Starfinder Gameday 6: 1-02 Fugitive on the Red Planet (Inactive)

Game Master Redelia

There is a blank experession on the andriods face..

"Shadow does not know what to think about his android companion. We should get moving."

Omen-Seeker studies the malleable android. "Indeed. Too shifty by half. Dial back the folksy charm and you should be okay. Folks expect a bit of smoozing, but too much makes 'em nervous. Yes, you'll do. Shall we be your bodyguards or your business associates?"

Aransevia twists her torso and waves her arm in a small motion. ”More in the bodyguard or hired muscle column, myself. Can’t say too many prospectors or antique dealers look like this.”

"Well then, let us go as they say 'follow the money.'"

He follows the statement with an awkward thumbs up.

Buff-bot, or 'Max' as he's now going by, will see about locating a seedy joint to start putting feelers out at. Any wretched hive of scum and villainy should suffice.

Culture: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

"I will need to spend a few moments studying the locals for demeanor and mannerisms. Once I gather enough data I should be capable of blending in more naturally. Present company contains a wide dispersion of personalities, and exhibits little to no rejection of dissimilar personalities, and as such several irregularities exist in my present state. I will seek to rectify that."

He looks over at Omen-Seeker. "Associates sounds best. I do not think that I possess sufficient knowledge to present myself as a 'man in charge,' but you should all adopt a tactical position best fitting your personal skill-set."

Max finds a local bar and enters. He asks questions, trying to be subtle and not call too much attention to himself. You can describe and fluff this the way you want, Max. The adventure only calls for a diplomacy check, which you can roll when you're ready. Others can certainly aid.

"Well, sometimes a man'll tell his bartender thing's he'll never tell his accountant."

Max looks around at the tables to gauge personalities before walking up to the bar. "I'll take a whisky... somethin' that burns going down. Make it a double. Business just isn't what it used to be..."

Anyone paying close enough attention notices Max respond to the bartender's gestures and nods roughly 1/10th of a second later than average.

"Huntin' for relics for some rich $^@#'s private museum on Absalom Station. Buyer pays well but I swear we spend nearly as much in fuel and repairs as we get for a catch. Hoping we can avoid too many jumps this time around."

He hands the barkeep the credits to cover his drink, and gives a face as though something has suddenly dawned on him. "Hey... you must hear a lot working in a place like this. If you've got any leads I'm sure we can negotiate some sort of finder's fee."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

"He awkwardly adds. The name's Max. Max..."

He pauses, realizing he hasn't actually picked a last name. He looks around the bar for a moment, and nearly panics. His eyes settle on a picture hanging on the wall and he continues. "Art....uro."

Omen-Seeker nods to the android. "Mr. Arturo, not his real name, of course, is correct. We require information. We have hard credits and we will pay, if the information proves worthwhile."

Diplomacy, Aid Another: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Shelldrake instead goes following the money, looking around for where the locals might be spending cash or partying hard...

It's a mining planet in a post-mining slump, she goes looking for drunken miners and salespeople to ask about where any 'gold' has been struck and where the wealth might be right now on this rock for a new and out of towner to get involved in

In transit

Looking down where the smaller arms are hiddent, it ponders 'What could be said about those...' Shaking its head as the android speaks it nods 'Ah, so we need vinegar then. Where would we find such a thing?'

Landing
Smiling, a strange look with mandibles it offers 'You're programming works quite well there. I would recommend on making the transitions themselves in public though. Aside from that, jolly good!"

As the two androids split ways, Xochitl looks from one to the other before exclaiming 'This one!' with an overly cheesy grin on it's face. Following Shelldrake, it offers 'You may need assistance. I'll help.'

Having a diplomatic person with each group could prove useful - And bad situations in PF make me reluctant to split the party too much. ;-)

Shelldrake, please roll either a diplomacy check, or a check for a profession that might apply (I'll allow electrician, as in looking for jobs in updating wiring in a mine). In this specific case, I will allow Xochitl to aid a profession roll with a diplomacy aid another.

Profession:Electrician 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

"I'm a qualified electrician and engineer, I can operate and maintain your machinerymachinery, I suppose I see them less as tools and more as family" the Android shrugs, she might not be programmed well for diplomacy, but she sure knows her way around power generation systems.

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

'I'd vouch for her if needed. She certainly knows her way around wires." broadcasts the shirren.

With a roll like that, doubt you need much help...thankfully. :-P

Outside the bar, Aransevia keeps overwatch, exuding as much of an air of “don’t talk to me, don’t even look at me” that a 5-foot-nothing korasha lashunta can muster.

Perception, taking 20: 20 + 1 = 21

Sliding up to the bar..

"Run down or not credits still talk around here right?"

Aid Dipl: 1d20 ⇒ 11

Max and Omen-Seeker, the barkeep looks at you and grins. "It's been years since I've heard of anything like that around here. Believe me, I'd tell you if I knew. However, there are stories of money suddenly appearing in the little town of Tasch. Maybe someone there would know something."

Shelldrake and Xochitl find some semi-drunk miners in the same bar. They complain for a while about how hard it is to find any work now, but one of them mentions that there is a strong rumor of lots of jobs in Tasch.

How much does an Ale cost?

Max laughs. "Hah! Money suddenly appearing eh? I know that old story... someone scores some ill-gotten gains, calls it magic... or divine providence! Well... with any luck that kinda story will attract some folk looking to sell some wares."

Bluff + Expertise: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (15) + 6 + (4) = 25

He knocks back the rest of his drink, then stands up. "Thanks, you've been a great help."

~~~

Once out of earshot he whispers to Omen-Seeker, slipping a little into his more formal tone, but keeping the newly adopted voice. "The bartender's description matches precisely the artifact described. Let us regroup and compare leads before continuing this investigation."

I'll move us on to Tasch in a few hours; I just want to give time for people to react if they want.

Omen-Seeker nods to the barkeep and to Max. "Agreed."

Hearing the news of Tasch, and spying their companions heading for the door, Xochitl announces to Shelldrake 'Seems we should be going'

Turning to their informant, the shirren thanks them for their time. 'Seems we should try there. Thank you for the tip good sir! Best of luck and may Hylax bless your path.'

Turning it heads towards the door. As Xochitl approaches the others, it broadcasts to them. 'We were informed Tasch is a good place to look. What news have you?'

Aransevia spies the party exiting the bar, and picks up her pack. Hrmm. Here's hoping we've found a lead.

"This is most fortuitous. Omen-Seeker and I have uncovered an independent lead bearing the same information. It appears as though money has been appearing in Tasch. As our mission briefing included a description of the artifact being one that creates illusory currency, it seems as though all of our leads are in agreement."

Culture: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23 How close is Tasch?

"Looks like we are off to Tasch"

"Right-o." Aransevia connects to the local datasphere and begins looking up fares. "I'll see when the earliest transport out to Tasch is. I assume this can be expensed to the Society, or do we have to pay out of pocket? I hate the bureaucracy of filling out forms..."

Tasch is a small town a few miles outside of Maro, the city where you arrived. The Starfinder Society pays for your transportation there. It takes you 2 hours to travel on a dune buggy. It lets you off just outside of town.

A long dusty road, lined with single-story dwellings, runs through the town of Tasch. Some powered vehicles rest chained to their owner’s homes. A small general store stands near the center of town, illuminated by flickering white lights. Another building, full of locals, hosts a signpost that reads "Digger’s Dive"—clearly the town bar. Although the sun beats down on this desert town, its citizens meander around the bar in good cheer. Most are ysoki and humans, with the occasional lumbering fourarmed shobhad mingling among them.

"Shadow thinks we have found a place of gathering. We should move in for information collection."

Shelldrake starts heading to the bar "Your observation seems to be accurate"

Slipping into his normal drone for a bit, Max assess their new surroundings. "UNDERSTOOD AND AGREED. THIS 'DIGGER'S DIVE' APPEARS TO BE A SIMILAR SITE AS WHERE OMEN-SEEKER AND I MADE OUR INITIAL FACT-FINDING ATTEMPT. AS THAT RESULTED IN SUCCESS, I DO BELIEVE THAT THIS NEW LOCATION SHOULD BE UTILIZED FOR SIMILAR FACT-FINDING."

Max accompanies his companions into the bar and once again goes up to the barkeep. PRIOR INTRODUCTION APPEARS TO YIELD ACCEPTABLE RESULTS, MAINTAINING TACTIC.

Max goes back into his adopted persona, and delivers the same exact line. "I'll take a whisky... somethin' that burns going down. Make it a double. Business just isn't what it used to be..."

Max's response rates seem to have improved to 80 ms beyond what would be considered natural.

"Huntin' for relics for some rich $^@#'s private museum on Absalom Station. Buyer pays well but I swear we spend nearly as much in fuel and repairs as we get for a catch. Hoping we can avoid too many jumps this time around."

He pays for his drink and again pretends to have a sudden realization. "Hey... you must hear a lot working in a place like this. If you've got any leads I'm sure we can negotiate some sort of finder's fee. The name's Max. Max Arturo."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Following his previous tactic as well..

"Yes.. Did he mention we have creds for information?"

Aid Dip: 1d20 ⇒ 18 +2 to diplomacy.

'They seem to have this down pat' considers the shirren. Hanging back, it waits to see what the other Android does.

'I think I'll help that one again if it's needed'

-Posted with Wayfinder

Faint electric lights dangle from the ceiling, while the open sky is visible from cracks between the planks that serve as a roof. The floor is solid wood. The interior walls and ceiling supports are mud brick, the latter being carved in a rare attempt at ornamentation. The tavern is divided in two halves by an energy field with an opening on the northern end. The bar lining the southern wall is open to either side, with a wall of half-empty bottles behind it. The tables are wooden and makeshift, but solid. The east end has square wooden platform about a foot above the floor. Two sets of double doors are built into the northern and southern walls on the west end, both ajar. A single closed door provides an exit behind the west end of the bar.

Several miners and their families occupy the bar. When Max tries to buy a drink, one of the miners insists on paying for his drink, making a comment about "Thanks to Talbot, I've got plenty to spare, friend."

The barkeep looks at Max and shakes his head. "The only magic artifact or anything like that around here is whatever secret thing Talbot has used to convert Thasteron to drift fuel. And he'd never sell it, our town's future depends on it."

Edit: Speech removed due to following post.

Max, before you make that speech, you may attempt a DC 14 sense motive to find out

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (9) + 2 + (3) = 14

Well then...

Shelldrake leaves the talking to the talkers.

Whilst she was built to be 'pleasant to look at', she knows her embedded social skills were only a limited set based upon the minimum requirements outlined in the manufacturer's contractual obligations.

She instead keeps alert for danger.

Max raises his eyebrows and goes to consult with his teammates. "THIS MAY PROVE PROBLEMATIC. THESE PEOPLE APPEAR TO HOLD TALBOT IN HIGH REGARD. QUERY: DOES TALBOT REALIZE THAT THE GOLD AND FUEL HE CREATES IS ILLUSORY OR NOT. IF HE DOES, THEN IT WILL BE UP TO US TO REVEAL HIS FRAUD SUCH THAT WE MAY RECLAIM THE ARTIFACT AND LEAVE HIM TO RECEIVE LOCAL JUSTICE. IF HE DOES NOT, THEN WE MAY BE FORCED TO RESOLVE THIS DIFFERENTLY. TO DEPRIVE TASCH OF IT'S HERO MAY RESULT IN THE STARFINDER SOCIETY EARNING A NEGATIVE REPUTATION AMONG THOSE WHO LIVE HERE."

He returns to the bartender with a new proposition. "Why, that sounds mighty useful. Perhaps he could stage a demonstration for us. Our buyer at least would pay a little something for a firsthand description of such an artifact. Could we meet with this Talbot?"

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 7 + (3) + 2 = 20

Shelldrake whispers back in her commlink "It would be better to increase the reputation of the Society, so perhaps prudent action is the best. There seems to be some danger in exposing him, or being seen to be the ones who do so"

Omen-Seeker engages another patron in the bar and asks this person a few questions about Talbot. "So, how long has Talbot lived in these parts? Sounds like he's been quite a boon for your town."

"... IT WILL BE UP TO US TO REVEAL HIS FRAUD SUCH THAT WE MAY RECLAIM THE ARTIFACT AND LEAVE HIM TO RECEIVE LOCAL JUSTICE. IF HE DOES NOT, THEN WE MAY BE FORCED TO RESOLVE THIS DIFFERENTLY. TO DEPRIVE TASCH OF IT'S HERO MAY RESULT IN THE STARFINDER SOCIETY EARNING A NEGATIVE REPUTATION AMONG THOSE WHO LIVE HERE."

Aransevia transmits her general thoughts to the party, while trying to hold a neutral expression.

"Agreed. Our man Talbot sounds like this pisshole town's salvation; the folk around here probably won't take too kindly to us exposing him, but if we have proof, they might even turn on Talbot himself."
She looks around, her eyes darting to both corners trying to see if anyone is suspicious of her crew. She then continues.
"... but that's not much our problem. The Venture-Captain told us that his theft from the Lorespire means his life is all but forfeit in the eyes of the Society."

She then looks around the room and uses her empathic senses to get a feel of the room; to try and see what the general tone is. Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14

"FORFEIT MAY NOT BE THE MOST ACCURATE WAY TO PUT IT. UNDESERVING OF THE SOCIETY'S PROTECTION... YES. AND WE SHOULD NOT RISK LIFE OR MISSION TO SPARE HIS LIFE, BUT THERE WAS NO ORDER OF EXECUTION. HIS LIFE WILL BE JUST A MATTER OF CONVENIENCE."

-Posted with Wayfinder

Aransevia replies once more, telepathically. "I... forgive my Common. Yes, I meant to say that his protection is not my concern. I've got five charges to protect, with recovery of the artifact being Priority One."

With her shows of force, and perhaps a touch of disregard for collateral to the mission at stake... Aransevia wonders if the past couple of cycles in the Castrovelian frontier has left her a touch savage and uncaring. On the other hand... she thought, ... a paycheck is a paycheck. His life won't alter the ones or zeroes of my credstick in any way.

The barkeep looks at Max. "Don't know if he'd do somethin' like that, but if you want to talk to Talbot, he's at the old thasteron mine just outside of town."

As Max turns away from the barkeep, he is approached by a vesk. "Please come join my employer, Mr. Philt, at the corner table. He has something important to discuss with you."

Max nods towards the Vesk. "Something to discuss?" Max offers his hand to the Vesk. "Max Arturo, and you are?"

As he accompanies the Vesk to Mr Philt's table, he attempts to get Aransevia's attention to come and keep an eye on the situation.

Aransevia lets Max and the vesk get a couple of paces ahead before trailing them through the crowd.

Shelldrake follows, but is busy watching the crowd.

Keeping a close eye on the new boss, Xochitl listens intently to their discussion.

'This could be problematic. How do we do this without upsetting the locals?'

-Posted with Wayfinder

The Vesk silently leads Max (and any others who accompany them) over to the corner table where Philt waits. Philt and his two bodyguards are Vesk.

"I am here representing AbadarCorp. My agents and I overheard you discussing Talbot. AbadarCorp respectfully requests to know your interest in this man."

"No need to let on that we're with the Starfinders, right?" says Aransevia, telepathically.

She then steps forward behind Max and puts a hand on his shoulder. "My employer here deals in antiquities, curios and artifacts. Specifically the re-acquisition and retrieval of stolen goods. It has come to our attention that this... Talbot has such an item that has piqued his interest."

"Ah. Perhaps we can help one another, then. This Talbot sold us a new kind of drift fuel. It worked, but only for a short time, and then changed to almost useless old thasteron. He needs to be punished for swindling us."

Guys, someone needs to roll a diplomacy check to make this work. If you aren't good at diplomacy and participate, please roll an aid another for diplomacy.

"As Aransevia stated... we have professional interests. As a member of AbadarCorp, while it is possible that we are at cross-purposes to each other I have full confidence that of anyone here you'd be happy to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 Ouch

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Omen-Seeker nods. "We suspect he stole an artifact he thought would turn dross into gold, but it actually only creates that illusion. We're not sure if he's aware of the actual nature of the artifact or not. Regardless, we've been hired to retrieve the artifact. "