The Moar Core Tour (Inactive)

Game Master BretI

Verrix bleeds a bit, happy to know that he made the mite's pathetic existence slightly better before its miserable life was mercifully ended.

"I hope this makes the area safer for the gillmen who come here to visit the waters, and for any future Pathfinders who may wish to explore the Absalom diorama. Speaking of which, we should go speak with the gillman and deliver the bad news about his kinsfolk-- and the good news that it shouldn't be happening any further."

As you return to the large cavern, Uori is still kneeling in the water, praying or perhaps simply lost in thought.

"Um, it's us again," Garif says quietly, having completely forgotten the gillman could not hear him the last time he was here. He turns his attention to the small deposit of argillite he'd found earlier, wondering if the gillman would mind if he took a specimen with him.

Just a little chunk would be very nice to have - or maybe two, so I could carve one into something, and keep one in its pure form for my collection.

Damiar wades into the water, slowly and softly. When Uori turns to face her, she gives him a serious and concerned look. "Hey, have you got a moment to talk?"

How are we going to tell him that his people were being turned into zombies? But tell him we must.

"Of course. Have you finished your explorations?"

"We have. We have cleared the evil fey and the undead, but we discovered something unsettling." Damiar puts her hand on the gillman's shoulder. "The undead were gillmen. A necromancer was killing your people and using them. He's dead, and the undead were slain... But I think you must tell your people what happened here. Can we help you lay your brethren to rest?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
Knowledge Local or Religion (Gillmen Burial Rites): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Does Damiar know anything about how Gillmen take care of their dead?

Damiar knows substantially more than the GM! Let's go with, gillman typically bury their dead at the ocean floor, after a series of rituals.

Uori bows his head a moment. "Yes, we had assumed the worst about our missing kin. I am not surprised to hear that they have been killed, although it's good that we can lay them to rest now. I don't know that you'd be able to help, unless you can breathe water? Thank you for eliminating the necromancer."

"Breathe water? Not yet! I may have to look into spells for that option in the future!" Damiar bows to Uori. "Well met! If your people have need, come talk to us in the Pathfinder Society. We welcome all seekers."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"By the way, have you ever considered joining the Pathfinder Society? The Dark Archive could use a bright spellcaster like yourself. We do important work tracking down dangerous magic items and the like and bringing them in so that people can learn from them without the items causing harm." Damiar smiles. "Perhaps something to consider for the future?"

Does anyone want to aid me?

Iovo pipes up "It really is some fascinating work we get to do. You can meet some of the most interesting people that way!"

Aid Another, Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 Guess he isn't interested in meeting new people!

I'll help you recruit the next one, sis!

"Um, would you like to meet Janira? She'd love to meet you!"

Garif stands by respectfully as the gillman receives the sad news the party has learned. He lays a companionable hand on Nico's flank, thinking a moment, It must be a lonely thing to be here, the only one of his kind, worshiping a dead god, not even able to hear the water dripping off the stalactites...oh, look, a series of soda straw stalactites! Hadn't noticed those before!

Uori is happy to accompany you to meet Janira, who is delighted to meet the gillman. She takes copious notes on their conversation, and then turns to you.

"Well, Pathfinders, you did great today! I will recommend each of you for full agent status!"

A few days later, you each receive a letter from the Master you are closest to, confirming your status as a full Pathfinder field agent. Each of you has a personal ceremony where you are presented with your very own Wayfinder. (Family and friends are welcome to attend.) The Master reminds you that the Wayfinder is not only the symbol of the Pathfinder’s trade but also a reminder of the three principle duties: explore, report, and cooperate.

Kleines looks at his Wayfinder, turning it over in his hands. Huh, I've only ever thought of myself as a servant of Irori. He pulls out his holy symbol and holds them side-by-side. It's weird to belong somewhere else, too. He stares at both for a few more seconds and then just like that, the moment of deep reflection is over. He stows both items and pulls out his wad of scribbled-upon napkins. Guess I better file my report.

I'm planning to get the first post of Glass River Rescue up tonight or tomorrow morning. I'll probably post something to create a visual break between scenarios, once people have had a chance to make their final posts.

Verrix says to Janira, "Thank you for your guidance and companionship. If you ever require assistance in your endeavors in the future, I would be honored to help you."

No family attends for Verrix's Wayfinder-presentation ceremony; his adoptive mother is remote, and he did not expect her to come into the city for this sort of thing. (Or, if she did, she was magically disguised and he did not recognize her.) However, he was happy to see that Ollysta Zadrian was present when Marcos Farabellus presented him with his very own personalized Wayfinder.

He thinks various metaphorical thoughts about shining light when he uses the magical power of his new Wayfinder.

End "The Confirmation"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BREAK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Begin "Glass River Rescue"

You find yourselves in the Druman capital of Kerse. More specifically in the opulent parlor of the manor home belonging to Temel Passad, a prominent Kalistocrat. You are served the finest of Chelish wines and delicate sweetmeats while you wait. The wait gives you an opportunity to peruse the letter you recieved from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin (on the Maps & Handouts slides.

Two silent servants open a pair of richly lacquered doors, and a human and two dwarves stride into the lavish parlor. The man, clad in immaculate robes of whitest silk, is short and round with a blond oiled beard, and his eyes are alert and amused. He takes a touch of snuff from a golden box and sneezes before saying, “It is a pleasure to welcome Pathfinders to one of my estates once more. I am, as you may know, Temel Passad. I met most of you earlier, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance” he says, gesturing to a bookish gnome wearing a parrot on her shoulder that recently entered the room. ”Please, introduce yourself.”

{Insert Phinellippa's introduction}

When the gnome is finished, he continues. ”Allow me to introduce—” One of the two dwarves, a redheaded female in deep scarlet robes, curtly interrupts the man. “We can introduce ourselves, Passad. I am Metella Raugar, representing the interests of several Highhelm mercantile consortia. My companion”—she gestures to a dwarven man with leathery skin baked by the sun, his head swathed in a bright yellow scarf—“is Amauhak of Reth Bezel, a mystic of the sand dwarves of Osirion.”

Passad attentively sees to his guests’ needs and ensures that the refreshments are to your liking before discussing business. He informs you that his boat, the Abacus, will take you from Kerse, hugging the shore of Lake Encarthan before entering the mouth of the Glass River to pursue your first task: searching the Gray Revelation Inn. From there, the Abacus will take you the rest of the way to Mendev to deliver himself, Metella, and Amauhak, and hopefully the liberated envoys. The deeply tanned Pahmet mystic notes that keeping the presence of himself and his two companions a secret is the wisest course, given what happened to the earlier team.

You have an opportunity to ask any questions you’d like.

”Coquelicot.”
”CoCo.”
”Coquelicot.”
”CoCo.”
”If you just want your name to be shorter, it could be Poppy, that’s the same flower.”
”CoCoPoPo?”
”Wait, be quiet, we’re here. Please don’t embarrass me.”

A red-haired gnome with slightly disheveled clothes and many inkstains running all the way down her right arm enters the room.

”Hello, Pathfinders! I’m so pleased to meet you! I’m Phinellippa Dioptrice, and I’m here to offer my arcane services to the group! This bird is my familiar, Coquelicot.”
”CoCo.”
”We’re, uh, we’re still working on the name. Anyway, I read all about your Confirmation! How extraordinary! The Minotaur, the shrine to Aroden, the dead necromancer. Would you describe the experience as exhilarating or more as captivating?” She pulls paper and pen out of her backpack. “I’m writing a dictionary, you see! Every new word is a new experience! That’s how I see it, anyway. Oh, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Passad, I’m sure you want to discuss the mission!”

"Thank you for your lavish hospitality," Verrix says to Passad, realizing that he should probably review his, er, memories about what he did with the money he earned from his Confirmation. "I hope that our performance in the task ahead of us will earn this. If you don't mind my asking, what is your interest in this expedition? We are very grateful that you have chosen to aid us, of course, and I do not wish to impugn that. I am curious, however."

To Phinellippa, he says, "I am not sure I would use either word. It was... intense. Fighting our way past a gelatinous cube in cramped passages to come into the open and see our mentor squaring off against this gigantic minotaur left me, at least, feeling accelerated, driven. Of course, much of that feeling was deflated when I allowed myself to become stuck in a stream. But, the rest of the group performed admirably, and they were able to take care of the minotaur and rescue our mentor Janira Gavix before she bled out."

"Hello CoCo!" Damiar leans over and smiles at the bird. "You're a lovely bird!"

She then turns to the gnome, and says formally. "Pẹlẹ o! Awọn ọna wa ti darapo. Ṣe a yoo rin irin-ajo lọpọlọpọ?"

Then she breaks into a grin and continues. "I'm Damiar and this is my sister, Iovo."

"We're twins!"

Phinellippa mutters as she writes,"Fascinating. 'Accelerated' not meaning change in velocity, but rather an internal drive."

She lights up at Damiar's greeting. "Pẹlẹ o! I look forward to it! How did you learn to speak Gnomish so well?'

Replying to Verrix, Passad says "Ah, well I admire your society and all the good work you do, and know that we both shall benefit from a stronger friendship between us."

--------------------------------------------------------

Some things you might already know about Razmiran and its state religion:

Iovo goes over to the two dwarves.

Pausing to look them over a moment, she asks "How is it that the two of you came to be traveling together? Also, what is the Pahmet?"

Garif is very pleased to learn that they’ll be traveling with dwarves, and introduces himself briefly in their language before switching to Common for everyone’s benefit. ”I am Garif Stonetoe, of the Five Kings Mountains, nice to meet you Phinelippa, Passad.” Noting the raven on the gnome’s shoulder, and thus the bird’s proximity to Nico’s sharp teeth and faintly twitching nose, Garif looks quickly at the great cat. Nico’s eyes are focused intently on the raven, and the panther’s expression suggests he’s quite convinced that Coco would make a tasty mouthful indeed. ”Nico, no,” Garif says sternly, though the cat’s expression does not change, nor do his bright eyes leave the bird for an instant. Garif positions himself between Nico and Coco, hoping the panther will simply forget the bird is there, though he’s not convinced of the idea’s effectiveness. ”They can develop some very fixed opinions on things, can’t they, these animals that choose to travel with us?” he remarks, laying a hand on Nico’s broad head and trying to redirect the cat’s attention, to no avail.

Hoping that Nico will not suddenly decide that Coco is meant to be lunch, Garif turns back to the conversation at hand, ”I think both exhilarating and captivating apply – there was a lovely argillite deposit in the main cavern, and the possibility of studying the deposition rate of some delicate stalactite formations – though that would depend of course on the gill men having taken very careful notes over the years of their worship there. But like my friend Verrix, I would add a word – frustrating. One does not rush rocks, and sometimes study of them takes time. We had to walk right away from an impressively large formation of what I’m certain was banded agate, and I don’t know when I’ll get an opportunity to be back there. I fear life as a Pathfinder may be full of such frustrations…though I am a bit excited about traveling the Glass River. I can’t help but assume that the name comes from obsidian formations somewhere in the river basin, like the Glass Mountain near my home. Did you know that you can speciate the origin of a piece of obsidian, actually identifying where in Golarion it formed, by holding it up to a bright light and studying the…Nico, no!”

Garif is just in time to lay a hand firmly on the cat’s broad nose, causing Nico to blink and rethink his intended leap at Coco and Phinellippa. ”I am sorry,” the dwarf says to his newly-met gnome colleague, ”we may have a period of Nico and Coco getting used to each other.” With a sidelong glare at his cat, Garif adds pointedly, ”I do hope Coco is a good listener, unlike some cats.”

Studying the letter they’ve been given a moment – while carefully holding it in front of Nico’s eyes so he can’t see Coco - Garif then asks, ”How long have the dwarven envoys been missing? When did Rakuska respond to the Society’s communication?”

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

"I know a little of this Razmir, the living god," Verrix says. "He claims to have passed the Test of the Starstone -- although one might question why there are still only three bridges across the chasm to the center where the cathedral is. His priests rely more on pushing people about and asserting their authority through thuggery rather than actual divine miracles. The entire country is rather oppressive, as the priests patrol the area looking for disloyalty, making everybody in the place paranoid. Alas, if we run into somebody who seems friendly in the country, we should be suspicious, for they may be trying to take advantage of us in some way."

Iovo goes over to the two dwarves.

Pausing to look them over a moment, she asks "How is it that the two of you came to be traveling together? Also, what is the Pahmet?"

Metella answers: ”The Pahmet are an ancient nation of dwarves in southwestern Osirion, sometimes known by outsiders as sand dwarves, though they do not use that term themselves. I first met Amauhak as I traveled to Tar Kuata on business. Our paths have crossed many times since then, most recently when we were each engaged by the Pathfinder Society for this mission. While our primary purpose here is diplomatic, serving in place of our missing colleagues, the fact is that each of us have a countryman among those missing envoys and have great hopes for a rescue.”

Amauhak adds ”Indeed, though it may be best if we stay out of sight as you do the rescuing, given what happened to the earlier diplomatic team.”

Studying the letter they’ve been given a moment – while carefully holding it in front of Nico’s eyes so he can’t see Coco - Garif then asks, ”How long have the dwarven envoys been missing? When did Rakuska respond to the Society’s communication?”

Temel answers: ”The previous envoys were due to arrive a little over a week ago, and the brief communication was sent shortly therafter.”

Rees watches with interest as the dwarves introduce themselves. He glances between Garif and the dwarves a few times as the conversation unfolds, his face showing the slight wrinkles of deep thoughts beneath the surface.

During a lull in the conversation, he clears his throat softly and asks, "Is there some reason that the... Razmirans? would specifically target dwarves?"

Knowledge(history): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

Phinellippa moves to put more distance between cat and bird.

"I have heard of these Razmirans, and they are nasty characters! One might even say," referring to her notes, "pestiferous. What do you think they want with your fellows? Coquelicot, stop trying to eat all the canapes."

The dwarves consider your questions for a moment, before Metella answers. "I can't say for certain, but I don't believe they have any particular animosity toward dwarves. I have heard that Razmiran priests have a habit of trying to shake folks down for whatever they can get. The reputation our kind have for miserliness is not entirely earned, but while I can't speak for Holfist or Pechas, I do know Rakuska, and she is not a dwarf that would take kindly to being strong-armed. I suppose the only way we'll know for sure is by finding them and asking."

At this Temel pipes up. "Ah, yes, I'm afraid that travelers in Razmiran are often subject to unannounced inspections and 'tariffs'.". Metella gives him a cold look and says "Yes, thank you Temel".

You can continue to ask questions as the boat travels, if you’d like.

Your journey along the coast of Lake Encarthan from Kerse is uneventful. Passad’s hired hands (five sailors in all, including the captain) are quiet and efficient, and the Abacus reaches the mouth of the Glass River and heads east without incident.

”We are entering Razmiri waters and shall soon pass by Xer.” Temel says. ”I advise that we dock and pay the necessary tolls. Abiding by the local customs will help us to avoid unwanted attention, especially if we include a “gratuity”. Further, without proof of a paid tribute, we are more likely to find trouble with one of the ubiquitous Faith Barges upriver. I am happy to cover the cost myself” he says, pulling two platinum pieces from a white silk purse.

”Bah, foolishness! counters Metella. ”Why give the authorities the chance to search the boat and find the three of us? Better to sail on, avoid the docks, and take our chances with the Faith Barges! After all, the last time they found diplomats traveling through here they...well we don't know what they did, do we? That's why we're here!”

Both advisors turn look to you to make the decision.

Before Launching

"Iovo and I were raised by a gnomish tutor. He was great! He taught us all about astronomy and literature and Golarian... He loved to travel!" She smiles at the gnome. "So, Phine...um... what was your name again? Where are you from?"

Aid Another History, Phinellipina: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

Damiar considers the words of Verrix and Phinny-something. Why do gnomes always go with such long names, anyway?

"You know, anywhere where there's a mandatory state religion, there's likely to be pockets of resistance and underground worshippers of other gods. It'll be interesting to see what we all turn up."

She also greets the two dwarves. "it's nice to meet you. This will be my second rescue mission for the society. My first was in the Five Mountains, with another dwarvish guide. We were successful there; I have high hopes for us here!"

On the Ship

Damiar bows to the dwarves. "This seems an important decision. Can you give us a moment to discuss this privately?"

After stepping away for a moment, she turns to her fellow Pathfinders. "I think we should just sneak by. I don't trust the authorities here one bit. Thoughts?"

Get caught out on the river, or get caught at dock? Neither sounds particularly enticing.

Looking to Damiar, she jests "I thought I was the twin that was supposed to always suggest trickery."

Looking to the rest, she adds "I agree with my sister. I expect it would be much harder to get away if we dock at a port."

Garif considers the twins’ proposal for a long while, casting his eyes about and realizing as if for the first time that he’s surrounded by water! He looks to his feet in a familiar gesture, as if wondering what rocks might be found where stands, then shakes his head in frustration. Slipping a hand into one of the pouches at his belt, he fumbles around in it for a moment, then pulls out a flat rock, its creamy white surface polished flat by eons of river water. His fingers work at the smooth surface of the touchstone, his brow knitted, and he says, ”I prefer to follow the rules – though bribing our way past these barges hardly seems like that, I suppose. And stopping to pay the tolls does seem like it might draw attention that we’re supposed to be avoiding…” With an uncertain look at the twin elves, who always seem ready to leap clear off the beaten path just to see where they land, Garif shrugs and finishes his thoughts, ”Very well, let us see if we can get past them.”

The cabin rings with the sad chirpings of a seasick raven. Phinellippa stops fussing over Coquelicot to join the conversation. "Yes, this plan is copacetic. It seems ill-advised to deliver our guests here directly into the hands of the Razmirans."

4/6 is enough to move on.

When informed of your decision, Metella allows a brief smile to cross her face before the diplomat in her regains control. Temel maintains a serene front, replying simply ”I’m sure it will work out fine this way.”

Indeed, it seems for a while that it has worked out. You sail past Xer, seemingly without response. You pass trade ships heading back down toward the lake without incident, and the farther you get from Xer, the more it seems that you’ve made the right choice. CoCo hops around the railing of the Abacus as Nico stretches lazily in the sun.

"Halt in the name of the Living God! Stop and prepare to be boarded for inspection!" a man shouts, as nearby sailors ready grappling hooks to pull the boats alongside one another. Two others pick up a wide plank to set across, as a trained baboon hanging from the rigging screeches loudly.

How do you respond?

Why should we take extra pains to hide the dwarves if there's no reason to think they're after dwarves? Rees, standing beside the railing staring out across the water, is torn from his reverie by the appearance of the barge and the yelling man. He allows a brief frown to cross his face as he considers the group's likely response. Why are they so eager to flaunt authority? If it's their way of acting against the Pathfinders, it doesn't seem very logical.

Turning to the others, he gives a light shrug. "Should we allow them to board? Surely they only want to uphold their law."

Phinellippa looks nervously between her companions and the nearby ship.

"I could... I could make an image of a flag that looks like theirs if we want to try and bluff them? Otherwise, I guess we have to let them board or fight."

"I agree, Rees," Garif says. "We've already tried to dodge their laws, now at least we should trust their intentions. And if it turns out their intentions are bad, they'll likely regret it."

As Verrix watches Nico keeping an eye on CoCo, he is reminded of his adoptive mother on the few times he saw her hunt. The difference was that his mother never revealed her plans to the casual observer; Nico still had much to learn in feigned nonchalance.

During the discussion about what to do in response to the Razmiran bage, Verrix says, "I agree with Garif and Rees. Despite what we have heard of the perfidy of the Razmirans, it's possible their laws are just, and not overly usurious. Let us give them the chance."

"Very well. Let them board."

Two sailors send grappling hooks across and pull your boat close while a third lays a boarding plank across, angling down from the larger boat. One thug stands at the top of the plank, crossbow trained casually in your direction, while two more cross to the Abacus, crossbows in hand.

"My, my, what a fine boat you folks have here." one thug says, appraising the finely crafted boat with a smirk. "There sure are quite a few of you, aren't there? It would be a shame to let anyone miss such a beautiful day on the river. Why don't you tell everyone below decks to come on up here and enjoy the weather with us?"

Map is up, though you are not in combat.

Verrix looks annoyed, but tries to maintain a level tone of voice. "Is that necessary? Is that actually required by the laws? Please, let us know whatever fees there are for traversing this part of the river, so that we may be on our way."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Hearing the sounds of grappling hooks above, Iovo whispers to the emissaries "Keep quiet. You may want to duck behind those crates in case someone comes in!"

She then moves near the door and positions herself so someone coming in would not see the silver light mace in her right hand.

I'm perfectly willing to allow the others their way, but I'm going to be prepared for when things don't go to plan!

Where would the emissaries be? I would like to adjust my position so that I was with them after the Razmiri vessel got sighted.

They are hiding below deck, not on the map.

It's fine with me if you want to be at the foot of the stairs to the lower deck while this is going on, Iovo.

"Well, well, in a hurry are we? Come now, I can't properly decide what the appropriate fees are unless I know who and what are aboard, can I? Now, enough of this. Bring whoever you have down below up so we can meet them, or I'm going down to get them." He takes a few steps toward the stairs, waiting to see what your reaction will be.

The one in red is doing the talking, and I'll say that the stairs in the bottom right corner of the deck (where Iovo is on the map) are the stairs leading down to the others.

"Now just a moment," Garif says to the thug, "what are these fees based on? What's the number of people on the boat have to do with it? As enforcers of the law, I'm sure you have a fee structure you can show us, and we can all agree on the required amount based on that." Laying a hand on Nico, whose attention is now focused on the thug rather than Coco, Garif asks, "What's the tariff for a well-trained hunting cat, for example?"

"They're based on the will of the Living God, as interpreted by yours truly, and you've just earned yourselves the "Pain-In-My-Ass" surcharge. Now since you folks have declined to be helpful, I'll have to go look for myself. Step aside" she says, leveling her crossbow at those of you in her path. She eyes Nico nervously as she begins to walk toward the stairs. Her compatriot at the foot of the plank brings his crossbow up to bear as well.

She seems unswayed by Verrix's diplomacy. Garif, that seemed like you were angling for intimidation. You can roll for that, too, if you'd like. Barring that, she's headed for the stairs and the lower deck, where she will surely discover your hidden diplomats. You can allow her to do so, if you'd like, or you can try to stop her. If that's your decision, tell me your intention to attack and I'll roll initiative. She's watching you all carefully, as are her allies, so there aren't likely to be any surprise rounds.