Abalia was more then happy to set foot on land. While the sickness would leave in instantly she knew it would go away soon. Yet she couldn't help but smile as she set about ensuring anything they needed to set up a base camp was brought off the ships, though she didn't dare go back upon them.
"We should focus upon setting up a base camp for right now, then do talks about scouting parties tomorrow morning?" She asked Samuel after their pavilion was set up.
Qazag staggers ashore.
"Indeed. We should set up a perimeter and investigate some of these heights. I'll see to the disposition of the troops."
He begins to head off, but stumbles and nearly falls. "After all that time at sea, my legs are still... wobbly. I'll be fine soon."
After a few trips have been made hauling goods from the ships, a small group approaches Samuel and Dengorin.
They bow slightly before a half-elven man speaks up. My Lords, I understand the importance of setting up our new home as quickly as possible, but many of us are exhausted from the long voyage, and morale is low. Please, let us all forget the work for today so we can relax and explore our new home--slaughter some of the animals and make a feast we can all enjoy. He looks up hopefully, his expression mirrored on the faces of the others. It would help lift the hearts of everyone here. We can sleep under the stars tonight and begin in earnest in the morning. The group waits expectantly for your answer.
Throwing a feast for everyone would cost 2 BP, and may make it a little more difficult to properly grow the herds of animals you will need in the future. However, it would make people quite happy to already have a celebration in their new home.
Samuel considers for a moment and turns cocking his head to look at Dengorin "I am not altogether opposed however we should set up some of the tents, a spot a rain while sleeping under the stars would soon dampen spirits again. Some can still go back to the ships to rest for the night if it starts raining. But his highness did not send a single man to administrate, share your insights on the matter if you please?"
Samuel was in an agreeable mood It has been some time since Abalia wasn't feeling unwell, I have never seen someone effected by the motion of the waves so severely.
2BP is something but it seems like a reasonable request and it might pay off mechanically... or it might not. On an unrelated note oh great and glorious GM who is kind and merciful in his random assignment of NPCs who are not there to assasinate my PC... the Kerensky's want to have a sit down prior to leaving with Caspian.
Well, he was on a different boat.
Let's go ahead and move the meeting over to the Kerensky google doc so as to not bloat the gameplay thread.
BTW for everyone else, Timeskeeper messaged me before the campaign started to discuss some possible ideas for her character, and that's where all of this is coming from. If anyone else wants to do something similar I'm happy to oblige; it makes the world feel more real for each of you to have lives and conversations that the others don't know about.
Dengorin considers for a moment, then says, "Such a feast would do well for people's morale. In fact, since today is the day we have made landfall, let us declare it a festival day. Each year, on this day, we shall celebrate our arrival in our new home. Set up the biggest tents so people have shelter from the rain, should it come, and then the feasting shall begin. Do you agree, Samuel?"
Setting the Festival Edict at 1 - the day of our arrival.
As soon as his horse is unloaded, he begins to groom and saddle it.
"I'll take some men and scout the immediate area. Besides, Irontoes here could use the exercise."
Though the soldiers we have are not cavalry, it's not too hard to ride a horse. I'll take 25 men and give them horses; if there's a fight they can dismount and fight on foot. I just want to see what is within a mile or two, not going to explore the whole hex.
Samuel nods at the bishop, his lips parting in a grin happy to have finally arrived and for things to be coming together "Something to look forward to and take count of the challenges overcome."
Samuel will begin assisting Qazag with preparing his horse if Qazag does not object "General Qazag, we should have things ready for a feast on your return. Would you co ordinate with the troops on your return to make sure they all have a chance to partake and we still have a few men armed and ready at all times just in case. As a show of solidarity given the small numbers I'll abstain from wine and spirits til the last of the men have a chance to join us."
"If you encounter trouble and receive any injuries bear in mind I've got some healing magic in case you can not find the Bishop or High Priestess. But if all goes well I'd be very keen to hear your impressions over some food when you come back."
"Every festival needs a name no? Would just the Landfall festival do?" Abalia asked Dengorin with a small smile.
"Oh and General, if you could note any place you think would be wise for a watchtower, or fort, I'd like to hear of it. Setting up a foreword defense could help us greatly. We don't know what else is out there and with how little we have, well I'd like to have a bit of warning if something does head our way." Abalia requested.
"General, is it? That was quick. Hah! I never heard of a general who had only 50 soldiers in his army before! But we'll build an army soon enough."
"Would you co ordinate with the troops on your return to make sure they all have a chance..."
Qazag nods. "Will do."
"Every festival needs a name no? Would just the Landfall festival do?"
"'Landfall Festival.' I like it. Nice and simple, and you know what it is about."
"Oh and General, if you could note any place you think would be wise for a watchtower, or fort, I'd like to hear of it."
"I was thinking the same thing, milady. Perhaps great minds think alike." Qazag smiles.
"My first thought was that we site our new town on the west side of the river here. That way, an approaching army travelling by land would have to cross either the river or the mountains to get at us. Preferably a little ways in from the coast; we don't know how strong the ocean storms can get in this land, but we might get the occasional hurricane. The river estuary can serve as a harbor."
"Secondly, a tower on a headland overlooking the river mouth would be a good asset to watch for incoming ships, and it could also serve as a lighthouse."
"I won't be going far afield today but we will scout more over the next few weeks."
Qazag bashes his right fist against his breastplate (a standard Imperial salute), and rides off.
|Varden Baile Phuir|
Varden drags himself off the ship in a less than dignified manner, it is obvious the man is more than happy to find his footing on solid ground once again. Given an hour or so to breathe in fresh air and solid ground beneath his feet the shades of green start to fade from his face.
Before the festival edict.
"Seems we have started off on a good foot. Though I would suggest we hold off on any festivities myself, until we know how well the plants and animals we have brought fair in this climate. Better to dress an animal that has lamed itself in the first month rather than sacrifice some of the herd now. But, I will yield to the exuberance of the others in this."
On the subject of buildings.
"A lighthouse and a quay to begin a port would be desirable, we don't want any ships coming in to run a ground or miss us. A shanty town will suffice for now, built up around the landing. A stout pallisade should also be a priority. And, if it wouldn't be too much to ask, a stout building for my collection. I have brought a selection of volumes that we may find indispensable for beginning this endeavor."
The mood among the men lifts greatly as you finish your patrol; they are clearly eager to join the celebration.
By the time Qazag returns the party is in full swing. Several large fires have been lit, and the air is filled with the sounds of music and slightly drunken laughter. Even the guardsmen currently on duty are having a good time, chuckling as a few young children chase each other across a field.
Evin was conspicuously absent from the preparations for the feast, appearing only to help carry a few bundles of tent poles and canvas up from the hold to be loaded on boats and rowed ashore. But by the time food was ready, he was to be seen dancing about in high spirits, all the while imbibing even more spirits.
At one point, as he wobbled past Varden, he slurred, "d'n loo s' sober, Elf-man."
Then he keeled over and vomited into the trampled grass. Some of it splashed Varden's ankles.
I really, really hope that washes out.
Kurhat grumbled something about the lack of taxes and how that should be enough of a celebration, but he was an old dwarf. Leading his collectors down the ship's ramp upon his very expensive, reddish horse, he frowns as he descends, "We're not going to be collecting much from this lot for now. That should be celebration enough. But I do look forward to real food."
Sending someone back into the ship to grab the rest of their terribly strong ale, Kurhat nods to the other important crew members as he passes them, "Glad we made it back in one piece. Feel free to join us and partake in traditional dwarven ale, if you're stomach is strong." He trotted off to set up his house's tent and then found a place to light a fire and drink ale. His fellow dwarves kept the fire lit, piling timber and loose branches on it in a timely manner.
Current taxation level is none. +1 Loyalty! +0 Economy. Next month will be the same.
Samuel will try to spend time with a lot of people, ask how they found the voyage, especially with the higher ups. He'll smile at Abalia as he goes if she's not with him at various points through the festivities. Seeing Evin get a little over indulgent he'll have a word "Perhaps switch to some watered wine or something a little weaker, this is the last time in a while we will be able to celebrate like this. I'd hate to see you leave us early." He'd press a chicken leg into Evin hand.
Diplomacy": 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (9) + 21 = 30 In the possibly vain attempt to get Evin to slow down a bit and show some temperance.
"Baile Phuir, let not slight find purchase. The brothers Kerensky will see all accounts brought to balance and see you enjoy the evening as best you can." A few quiet whispered words and gestures before Baile see's the vomit slide off leaving the shoe clean. He then tips his hat.
Diplomacy": 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (18) + 21 = 39 To try to salvage the situation from complete disaster!
Prestidigation does say it can let you clean a ten foot cube!
He'll smile tired but excited and a bit relieved to be done with the pleasantries "On distant shore I find noble wife returned to good vitality. I confessed I am burdened with dilemma, vexed as I am and weary. If my lady would accompany me I have half a mind to dance but I must attest the other half ponders moving feet to walk on unknown shore. Replacing thrum of music with quiet word, replacing food and friends for a time with simple and honest moment. My mind is set on both paths, so fortune dictates I must follow heart. Now tell me dear wife, where do I go?" He'd be moving to take her hands in his.
I started thinking about the Spartacus, Blood and Sand TV show earlier so now I've got the cadence stuck in my head. I really liked that bit.
|Varden Baile Phuir|
That is one of the wonderful things about being a player character, you can completely ignore other players' diplomacy rolls.
Varden looks first to the sick younger, than too the competent older Kerensky, than back down alto rest his eyes soon the younger again. "Do not worry, I remember a day not to long past when I was a boy of ninety or so summer counts, I made the ill advised choice of drinking something called whiskey. It was not pleasant going down, less so coming up. Give the boy another fifty counts and he will have matured some. Fear not good lord, I take only the mildest measure of one so young, any less then their first century can be forgiven immaturity." The look on the elf's face shows full well that he is being serious.
Bluff: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
"But, if you have a moment, I have a most delicate question I would ask of you and your lady in private. Mayhaps when the festivities have wend down the path to somnelance and the common man has gaed to ground for the night?"
It's not mind control, still can't hurt... though cleaning the shoes can always help a bit
Samuel nods to the man's words as he begins to move off. "At some point later in the night and at the latest then good sir. Apologies but I have been talking of business and duty for what seems like hours, a respite is needed."
Sense Motive": 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (1) + 21 = 22 I love versatile performance...the natural one will always have the last laugh!
"Well first we need jobs for them to earn coin at." Abalia told the old dwarf with a small smile.
Abalia helps serve everyone some of the cattle and ale. Making sure the people get an equal amount of each as well as she could.
Though when Samuel comes up, requesting she choose something for them to do, his wording makes her blush. "Our path is that of the shore." She answered, smiling brightly at him as her hands joined his. "Some times to ourselves."
Kurhat gave an affirmative nod towards Abalia, "We had best give them jobs then. Should we invest our resources now, we will profit greatly later."
His circle of dwarves sat among themselves discussing the first steps toward a working economy, "A mint would give us a standard of currency for our budding nation. It may be pricey now, but it is a solid investment. Others will hear of us and know that we are civilized enough to offer trading terms."
Another dwarf spoke up, this one with a rotund stomach and thick eyebrows, "To create money is to invite danger. We don't have the farmland to support a larger army, but a wall would help us greatly should we be found."
A redbearded dwarf sat in his chair, stroking at his whiskers, "Aye. We should dedicate our districts in an orderly fashin'. Economy is the drivin' force of a natin'; should be our first goal."
A dwarf with a perfectly trimmed goatee and a crooked nose stated with a frown, "Good luck tryin' to convince these youngin's. They say we're stubborn and it's true, but at least we got sense. I bet you 10 gold they'll want to erect a statue in their honor, for landing and setting up tents. They'll call it the Great Tenting."
A cheerful, rosy-cheeked dwarf laughed and swung his mug of ale around, "Here here! To the Great Tenting!" After having another swig, he claps the grumpy dwarf on the shoulder, "You're too harsh on them. We were young once before, 200 years ago for some!"
Those two started a funny argument, while a silent dwarf with an eyepatch over one eye finally spoke up, "We must work together if we are to ensure success." The other dwarves agreed, except for one. He was bald ontop, but his braided beard had more than enough hair in it. He snored loudly, several mugs around him empty.
The first few steps were fast but slowed to a more sedate pace as the distance widened between them and the revelry. Likely less well lit he picks up a pebble casting light on it and cupping it in the palm of his hand to illuminate the ground at their feet but not draw too much attention to them. As they draw close to the shore with the water lapping a few feet from them he skims the glowing rock out across the water before sinking.
Samuel looks into the distance across the waves and then to the dark silhouette of the mountains and hills before bringing his eyes to meet hers as they adjust to the darkened area. "Tell me what do you see here?"
Abalia met his eyes, keeping them for a moment as she gave him a playful questioning look before slowly moving her eyes across the landscape. Though the darkness made it hard to see them as clearly, but that wasn't what she was focused on. After a minute a soft hum came from her lips, the common sign she was thinking. Finally she turned to face Samuel, taking his hands in hers and intertwining her fingers with his. "Home." She answered softly as she met his eyes again. "A home, we can build."
GM, can a drunk sense motive? What penalty would I get? I'll hold off on rolling for sense motive for now.
(this wasn't intended to end up in the final post; I'm rolling for drinks to see how much Evin has drunk at the time Samuel confronted him and at the time he vomited. However, the results are pathetic enough I had to share. Bastardized poison rules for the penalties.)
AleDC10: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 16
WineDC13: 1d20 - 1 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 - 1 = 0
WineDC13: 1d20 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (5) - 1 - 2 = 2 <Samuel Confronts
FortDC13: 1d20 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 1 - 2 = 10 damage: 1d8 ⇒ 2 <vomiting
WhiskeyDC17: 1d20 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (11) - 1 - 2 = 8
FortDC17: 1d20 - 1 - 2 - 2 ⇒ (14) - 1 - 2 - 2 = 9 < um.. passed out.
When Samuel pushed a chicken leg at Evin, he scoffed. "I haven' drunk that much, brother. I haven' even finished my third drink yet!" But there was a telltale slur in his voice, and he wobbled a bit when he went to lean back against the table he'd just stood from. He'd misjudged the distance but recovered well.
Nevertheless, he munched on the chicken leg for a few minutes, sipping his wine between bites. Then he stood up and wandered off.
a few minutes later, post-vomit
After a few heaves, Evin stood back up and wiped his face. "Sorry," he said to Baile Phuir. "Y' shoul' really give whiskey another chance, though. They got th' good stuff o'er there." He gestured, then stumbled off in that direction.
Not soon after, he was found passed out on a pile of kindling that had been gathered for the next morning's fires.
Paizo ate my original post.
GM, can a drunk sense motive? What penalty would I get? I'll hold off on rolling for sense motive for now.
The progression for being drunk is Sober (no penalties) - Sickened (-2 on all d20 rolls) - Nauseated (incapable of any sort of concentration) - Unconscious. There are so official rules for when you progress to the next stage, but I would say Evin is Sickened at the point he pukes over Varden, so -2.
1d100 ⇒ 62
1d100 ⇒ 35
1d100 ⇒ 72
1d100 ⇒ 100
1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
4d12 ⇒ (12, 11, 6, 11) = 40
3d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 1, 5) + 6 = 18
Samuel gets +5 on the following Perception check, Evin gets the -2 for being drunk.
perception: 1d20 ⇒ 18
Though Qazag spends the bulk of his time among the soldiers, he does mingle, circulating around the party with a tankard in his hand. He smiles and chats, clapping people on the shoulders and backs, never spending too long with any one individual. For some reason he hasn't bothered to take his armor off.
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26
Kurhat looked out yonder and noticed the brave captain keeping his eye on someone for some time. He looked away, but Kurhat lifted his mug to his fellows, "I'll return." Making his way around the other bonfires, Kurhat stops near Captain Stormshadow, Oi, lad. Are you enjoying the festivities? My house members and I were looking for someone to join us and you looked like you were looking for someone to drink with."
He gestured with his head towards his bonfire, "I highly suggest trying some of our ale. It'll keep your mind off of things."
Elijah is smiling in the inside as the feast is agreed upon.
Good, a feast will ease whatever tension may have arisen from no such event. If spirits are up, morale is up meaning crime should be minimal. No sense in causing unrest upon landing. Besides, I need a stiff drink after such a s#@!ty boat ride over
Elijah will partake of the feast, even if it means a few less cows and chickens to get the colony up and running. He takes a swig of whiskey and watches the young man imbibe WAY too much as he regrets it.
Hey kid, take it easy. The harder the liquor, the harder kick. You'll have plenty of time to grow into manhood here, don't ty to do it all at once, as he chuckles a bit thinking back to the younger days as his father gave him s*$% for the EXACT same thing.
Hope you are doing good sir...
Elijah continues to enjoy the feast and watching all the new citizens of Iplard. He keeps an ever watchful eye out just in case the people get out of control and drink too much.
per: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Samuel nods "Not a bad answer at all, as long as we help guide this place and protect it that's what it will be. There's little room for mistakes but if we do it right our family can take root and grow here. Not just our own, many. I imagine there'll be some heartbreak along the way, this wont be easy, but this can be a great place." Samuel leans forward and draws her into a hug warding off any chill in the breeze, lightly planting a kiss on her cheek.
Perception": 1d20 + 6 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 5 = 15
Looks like Samuel is too off guard at the moment to notice anything out of the ordinary right now
"Baile Phuir asked to speak with the two of us but lets enjoy the moment here for a while." Samuel would pull back keeping an arm around her waist before pointing out different areas and describing buildings that could be built. He does comment that if the land isn't too dangerous a park running straight onto the shore and ocean might be nice for people to relax at when such luxuries could be afforded.
Kurhat spends his night watching the captain, and when he finally gets up to leave, Kurhat walks after him, "Oi, lad. I would like to have a word with ye." Speaking very quietly and walking close, "This new land is filled with opportunities, but if ye disrupt the order of this fine settlement, we are going to have larger problems than your wants to deal with. Think and act carefully." Then he'd leave to spend the last of his daily hours with his fellows before retiring.
If you didn't get the chance to say or do something, go ahead and just make sure you mention that your post content was still during the party. But I'm going to move on.
The festivities last well into the night, until the fires finally die down and the last drunkards stumble into bed. It seems only a few hours later that the sun begins creeping over the horizon.
He addresses you by your appropriate title before continuing: I'm afraid we have a problem. Please come, quickly!
The soldiers lead all of you to a field bustling with activity. As you get closer you recognize the tension in the colonists' movements as they ready horses and pack saddle bags with supplies.
After weaving through a number of people, the soldiers bring you to Lieutenant Dawson--Captain Stromshadow's second-in-command. He immediately turns to you, wasting no time on pleasantries of formalities. About an hour ago a few women approached one of the watchmen--their husbands' had stayed out late drinking--and then never came back to their tents. He takes a breath before continuing.
At first we thought they had just passed out under a tree somewhere, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Captain Stormshadow just left with a search party and ordered me to coordinate from here. His expression turns apologetic. I thought it would be best to wake you all
Talking with Varden Baile Phuir the previous night. For Varden and Abalia
Samuel had finished shaving not long before the guard approached getting ready for the meeting with the Captain. He had intended to forgo the armour but he wanted to be equipped for any kind of problem now and asks Abalia to assist him putting on the armour and straps his rapier to his side. The studded leather armour is of the finest craftsmanship and is stained a dark green colour with golden stags and brown brambles for decoration. Adjusting his sleeves of many garments he adjusts his outfit to something a little bit more suitable. People would look to him in a crisis and they needed to see confidence. The guard would see in less than a minute Samuel has left the tent seemingly wearing new clothes and equipped for combat.
"Does anyone have any suggestions beyond?"
He turns to Dawson "If you can give me the names of the men and their wives, I'll see if I can gather some more information that might be of use to narrow the search. If we are lucky a group decided to do a little fishing or something and fell asleep but we may not be so fortunate."
"Gorum's Rusty Codpiece!" Qazag swears. He heads over to the soldier's camp and starts shouting orders.
"Move your asses, ladies! First Section! Divide yourselves into groups of five. We're forming search parties. Go and get some horses - you can cover more ground that way. We're going to fan out and then move back and forth, first right, then left, to cover all the ground radiating out from the camp."
"Second section! I want twenty men on the perimeter right now! The other five need to move through the camp and get everyone here looking for them. If it turns out the missing men all snuck off with mistresses there'll be hell to pay!"
"Sound your horns once if you are under attack. Two short bursts if you find the missing men."
"Move it people! We saddle up five minutes ago!"
He turns back to the other leaders.
"Okay, we'll have five groups of five combing the area. But the troops aren't really trackers. Anyone with tracking skills or just good eyes generally can join up with one of these squads - it would help. I'll make sure they follow your orders."
Some of the leaders would be good for this, and can help out.
"Dengorin, Tsiala: if you are not going out maybe you can set something up to receive any wounded we might get."
Qazag turns back and heads to the soldiers again, getting ready to mount up and ride out.
Samuel takes a moment, not used to fighting from horseback but the gears start whiring in his mind. "I am not a renowned rider but my courser is trained for combat. I'll go with your group, though not as proficient as our renowned clergy in an emergency I can provide some magical healing. Also if you need to send to shout a message I can aid with a spell made for commanders to be heard over an entire battlefield." Samuel gets a few people to help him him get his mount ready, making sure to have the barding on, it's design matches his own studded leather armour, the courser is sorrel in colouration.
During the party
Dengorin will see to it that his tent and his retinue's tents are set up, then will join the festivities. He drinks only moderately, but takes the time to speak with as many people as possible. He also blesses the food prior to eating, intoning a short prayer to Abadar.
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
The morning after
Dengorin had just prepared to begin his morning prayers when the soldier came to speak with him. Accompanying the soldier to the meeting, Dengorin listens to them explain what happened. Turning to the half-orc, Dengorin says, "Major, I have three followers of Abadar with me who may be of some assistance. All are combat-trained, have their own equipment, and experience tracking people down. I would like to send them with the search parties. They will be most helpful while I set up a healing area with my acolytes."
Sense Motive for Qazag: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Abalia stopped what she was going when she noticed Caspian. She offered him a small smile but when he quickly busies himself with something else she sighs.
Walking with Samuel
"It's good to hear your thoughts." Abalia said with a smile as she walked along side Samuel. "You seem very excited about this." She told him. "I like it."
When the guard came to get them Abalia has been fixing her hair for the day. Though she quickly stopped and slipped on her gloves and altering her clothes into a lovely green dress with golden trim before she began to help Samuel get his armor on.
When she heard why they had been summoned her mind when into over drive. That hum came from her lips again as she began to think. "If the men slipped out with mistresses Qazag we'd have more missing. As of right now there are only three men missing. Dengorin, if Qazag is okay with it I would suggest putting one of the priests with each of three of the five groups. If something happened to these men they may need healing. Should you and Tsiala need more space to set up something in case each are wounded please let my servants know and they will clear space in our pavilion for them." After that she placed her right hand over her left glove, the green dress she had on slowly changed into black pants with a red bodice trimmed in gold and a green blouse under it. The gloves turned into golden bangles. "I'm coming with you to help." She stated to Samuel. "The more eyes the better."
|Varden Baile Phuir|
sense qazag: 1d20 + 11 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + 11 + (1) = 18
perception party: 1d20 + 10 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + 10 + (3) = 19
If you had done any digging in to Varden's past, it is an open secret that he had recently lost his wife and their infant twins to an unfortunate fire nearly twenty years previous. The man has done nothing but poured himself in to his work since that time. There were even rumors that he had been somehow responsible for the fire himself, even though nothing ever came of any investigation.
"...and duty is the crux of which I have come to speak to the both of you." An almost wistful look crosses the man's face as he gazes at the both of you, his eleven features almost exaggerating it in to a moment of pure sorrow before it passes once more in to a stern gaze. "We will have to lead this new colony well, see it thrive and guide it so that it may become a home we can all be proud of. This will in of itself require the full attention of all involved, and we can I'll afford distractions. So I will ask you, will he be a distraction?" Varden doesn't even glance at Samuel as he asks the question, instead his intense stare has focused directly on the woman who has yet to speak a word.
The search for the missing revelers.
"I can go with a search party, eleven eyes may find something others miss."
"General." Tsiala says. "I can travel quite quickly, faster than any horse, for a few hours. I can bring along about 3 others with me, and we could see if we could find them. I could use at least one skilled tracker, and we could try and find them before anything happens."
Kurhat was sitting around his campfire with a mug of freshly brewed dwarven coffee. It was a bitter drink, much more so than dwarven ale. Upon approached, he set the mug down, "Great. Oi lads, up and at 'em!" He gathered his tax collectors and untied his horse, saddling up.
Meeting up with the others, Kurhat frowned in his morning attire, a bland, grey suit with white cuffs and fur boots, "What is all this ruckus?" Hearing what was going on, Kurhat shook his head, "We're traditionally trained, but we're still tax collectors at best. Though we'll show our goodwill and help you look."
Kurhat and others will join up with one of the search parties that doesn't have leaders in it already.
perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
Ok, sense motive for Varden last night...
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 3 - 2 = 21
Auto-fail fort save for hangover... Yaaaaay. GM, any consequences?
Evin sputtered awake. His head felt like it had been split. Light bit at his eyes, and the pain was so great it took him a few moments to process what the soldier woman was saying.
Missing? Missing who?
Then it hit. Oh, sweet Desna, he swore to himself. "I'll be right there."
He threw on a fresh shirt, barely remembering to tuck it in before he stumbled out of his tent with one boot only halfway on, its sole and upper flapping into the muddy ground as he rushed toward the open field.
On his way, he passed a campfire with a strong smell of bitter coffee. His head throbbed at the smell. He would need a clear head. Pulling up his wayward boot, he stopped at the campfire and grabbed one of the heavy-handled mugs sitting nearby. Two ladles from the pot and he was on his way again, walking as fast as he could without spilling.
When he reached the field, Evin walked straight up to Lieutenant Dawson, standing next to his brother who looked much better put-together than himself. He took a sip of the coffee, then immediately choked as his gag reflex forced all of the bitter liquid from his mouth.
"What the hell is this stuff?" he demanded. His head cleared from the sheer nastiness of the drink.
He turned to Samuel and Abalia. "Captain Stormshadow is..." and the gears ground into place in his head. "I'm going. Not as part of a search party." He chugged the rest of the coffee. It seemed to curdle in his stomach, but the heat warded away some of the pain in his head for the moment.
GM, I have Track. May I make a Survival check to track?
"Evin are you sure?" Abalia asked. "You had a large amount last night. You sure you're up for this?"
Dengorin shakes his head at Lady Abalia's suggestion. "I've brought only 2 acolytes with me, and neither does particularly well in the wilds. They would be far more useful here, assisting in setting up an infirmary. Captain Saldar and her two trackers will be more help. They all have combat experience as well."
Evin shook his head in response to Abalia. The world spun slightly as he did. "No, I'm not. Remind me to never drink again," he said. "But this is more important right now."
Then he heard Tsiala's suggestion. "That... is a much better idea than me running, high priestess Tsiala. I will go with you."
Did not see Tsiala's post before now. Oops.
|Varden Baile Phuir|
Qazag has mounted his horse and is ready to get going.
"Those of you who are coming, link up with your groups and get going. But not everyone should go; some people need to stay here and hold the fort, as it were."
Ironically, while Qazag has good skills for motivating troops he has no tracking or searching ability at all. But he would never consider not being one of the ones not to go.
Lieutenant Dawson leads Samuel only a little way off from the improvised command station to where several women are anxiously waiting, and identifies the three of them who each separately notified the patrols of their missing husbands.
Qazag, one of the soldiers you sent to start saddling up runs back to you. He salutes quickly while catching his breath. Sir, several of the horses are missing!
After only a little prodding he clarifies how many, I didn't get an exact count, but more than a dozen. What are your orders?