The Strangler of the Shadow Moor (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

When a mysterious experiment draws together the Plane of Shadows and the Plane of Negative Energy, strange things are born, and a world begins to unravel |

Encounter in the Hall


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Lantern Lodge

male Wayang Eysterlun Shadowcaster 4 | AC 21*, T 15, FF 19* |HP: 23/23 | F +3, R +3, W +3? | Init +2, P +4 |CMB 0 CMD 12| 1/4 Void Points

How much experience (if any) did we have prior to this?

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Sasithorn is too busy staring at where the monsters' corpses would have been to catch the new development. "Quite the welcoming party, weren't they? The Great Black Library back home will want to hear about this, if it hasn't already!"

I cast Mystic Reflections (detect magic) and scan the area.

Sczarni

Male Human Rogue (pirate) 12, Gunslinger 1

"Yeah. That was...odd. To say the least."


Male, old, old, Male

Some "Do Gooder" has moved this thread. Oh well, are the participating individuals willing to convert this to a full managed game? If so, I may open a recruitment just to see if anyone else is interested.


Male Dwarf Stone Oracle/Fighter(Weapon Master) 1/3 I AC 18, T 17 I FF 17 I HP 40/40 I Saves F: 4, R: 2, W: 3 I Init: +1, Per: +1

Why not?


Male, old, old, Male

I've sent PMs out to the participants of this game,who might be having trouble finding us, except you Xor, and asked if they would like to keep playing in a more traditional Campaign Setting, and so far, with a very nice response, Capain Edward has bowed out, I wish him well. So let's wait and see what the interest is before we move on, shall we?


Male, old, old, Male

I am currently recruiting some new Player Characters. I hope that Marvin, Xor, and Sasithorn will be patient with me. I will be posting a narative that will get the game heading in the right direction soon, but ...

meanwhile


Meanwhile, on Lighthouse some 26 parsecs away

Parker knew that someday he’d go back to Hamth, but it never, in his wildest nightmares, ever occurred to him that he would be going their legally, and as an agent of the IRS.

The last time he was there, things had gotten, well, complicated is probably the nicest way to say it. He left a few things unresolved, a few people angry with him, and a few bodies in closets he hoped no one had opened.

Hamth was a dangerous place. In the star systems he knew of, Parker was aware of only two other worlds that had the kind of magic that worked like it did on Hamth, those worlds were Golarion and Riom, and after a couple of trips to Hamth, Parker knew he wanted no part of those other worlds no matter how promising the cash income might be.

So now he was waiting at the star port of Lighthouse for an agent of the IRS to show up with his tickets, and whatever files he needed to study before the long journey back to the world where magic was the rule, and technology an ugly step sister.

“Mister Andersen, I presume,” a short man in a blue suit approached him carrying a weathered, almost antique looking satchel.

“Yeah, I’m Parker Andersen, you must be Dwyer. You with the IRS?”

“No sir, I mean yes sir,” the little man said with a smile. “I mean yes sir, I am Paul Dwyer, but I’m not with the IRS. I’m with a special organization. We prefer to keep a very low profile. The IRS has contacted us to help you get to Hamth. I have a few things her for you.”

“You’ve got my tickets I hope,” Parker said as the little man handed him the satchel. It was surprisingly light. “And I really expect them to be first class. No sleeper tube for me. If I’m going to spend two months in transit, it’s going to be in style.”

“About that, yes, Mister Anderson, the accommodations will be acceptable to you, I’m sure, but I’m sorry to say they won’t be as a first class passenger aboard a regular star liner.”

“Two months is a long time to spend aboard a junk, Dwyer. You’re not seriously thinking of sending me on an IRS mail carrier I hope. In fact, if we have to make more than two jumps, that’s even better. I’d enjoy the down time at a class a star port for a change. By the way, how will I be updated on the status of this situation once I arrive?”

Dwyer smiled.

“Well, I imagine everything will be pretty much as it is in the brief in your bag, you can read it on the way, and take some time getting familiar with the local customs.”

“Dwyer,” Parker said as he pointed back and forth between the man and himself several times, “I don’t think we’re on the same page. Somebody’s watching this world, a few IRS agents I’m told, and I’ll want to know what has changed when I get there.”

“Nothing will have changed from,” Dwyer looked at the chronometer on his wrist, “approximately twenty two hours from now.”

“Twenty two hours from…what are you saying Dwyer?”

“Mister Andersen, the IRS has asked us to supply you with transportation to the outer system zone of the planet Hamth by means of the Annic Nova, and it should be arriving momentarily. We’ll get you settled down in one of the better staterooms of the Nova, but please understand it is a small ship.”

Parker wasn’t often stunned. He was stunned now.

“Did you say the Annic Nova?”

“Yes sir, the Annic Nova.”

“The Annic Nova is a myth, a ghost ship, a fairy tale. Are you telling me it is a real thing?”

“Yes sir. The Annic Nova is a Class “Z” registered eight hundred ton vessel belonging to our organization and kept in service by an agreement between fourteen interstellar governments.”

“The ship that travels through time?”

“Something like that, yes Mister Andersen. You’ll depart in the next few hours and spend one week traveling to a secure jump location, then sixteen days in the AEther, to reach Rail Point Station. You’ll take on supplies, and make another jump to Hamth’s system, that should take about two weeks, and then a final short-jump to within shuttle distance of the world. The trip should take about eight weeks.”

Parker tipped his head to the side and asked, “So When do I reach Hamth?”

“You already have, sir. In fact, in about six hours you should be landing on the planet. It takes a little getting used to, and it can be unsettling, the first time, but there will be plenty of time and several records you can review while in transit that will help you adjust to the temporal dislocation.”

Dwyer’s wrist chronograph chimed.

“Ah, that would be the signal. The Nova has arrived. We’ll board a shuttle and be there in a few hours. Oh, and Mister Andersen, I don’t suppose I need to remind you that this entire trip, never, happened.”

“Whatever you say, Dwyer, whatever you say.”


Male, old, old, Male

For Sasithorn, Xor, and Marvin

Thursday Night (turn 129), Two Barrels Tavern

You help carry Holly into the tavern, where Nigel is clearing a table, and then he drags it close to another and throwing a clean cloth over both he stammers, ”Here, put her here.”

Tessrimea stays close to the girl’s side, while Paulina and Nathaniel keep a safe distance, ensuring the people with the proper skills are taking care of her.

meanwhile at The Blue Roof Inn…

A scream.

Then the sounds of shouting in the alley, a crack of thunder, more shouts. The guests at The Blue Roof Inn are roused form a peaceful sleep on a cool spring evening. People begin to open their doors, holding candles out into the hall and whispering, “What’s going on.”

No one answers them.

One by one they begin to go down the stairs into the large common room on the first floor. Dundie Bonnar, the owner of the Inn is there. He is an old man, with silvery hair. He is thin, but he stands tall, and he holds a lantern in his hand and he tries to calm his guest. The light from the lantern is bright and it shows the stains of the old man’s night shirt and worn woolen trousers. He is not wearing any shoes.

”Everything is fine, people,” the old man says. He is gruff, but it seems his crankiness comes from being woken in the middle of the night, as he yawns and rubs his eyes with his free hand.

”Some kind of fight in the alley, I suppose,” he says. “Folks be drinking themselves into a stupor, most likely. They’ve all gone back to the tavern now and it looks like it’s all over.”

Back in the Tavern…

Holly seems to be coming around. Her head turns from side to side slowly, and she blinks. She looks exhausted, but otherwise fine. Tessrimea holds the girl’s hand and comforts her with soothing words.

Something odd is going on, but can the Character’s notice what it is? You can make a Perception Skill Check, the DC is 20!

Outside, a longboat, a sturdy built craft with long oars, rows up next to the pier alongside the stone wall of Connie's Bright...


Male Dwarf Stone Oracle/Fighter(Weapon Master) 1/3 I AC 18, T 17 I FF 17 I HP 40/40 I Saves F: 4, R: 2, W: 3 I Init: +1, Per: +1

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Aye lassie, check her eyes. I swears they were as black as those strange thingermerbobs out there


Female Gymnagaopthian Cleric/1 | AC 16, T12, FF14 |HP: 7/7 (d8-1) | F: +1, R: +2, W: +5 | Init: +2, P: +3 | CMD 12

She leans in close, and examines Holly's eyes.

"They look normal to me, by the way, what did you say your name was, sir? That was impressive. The way you destroyed one of those things with that exploding rock. Can you teach me that spell?"

Tess slides up close to Xor and smiles brightly at him.


Male Dwarf Stone Oracle/Fighter(Weapon Master) 1/3 I AC 18, T 17 I FF 17 I HP 40/40 I Saves F: 4, R: 2, W: 3 I Init: +1, Per: +1

The names Xor..Xor Chucksalott, as far as the spell twasn't nothin just a light O..rize..uh spell. When we was outside I saw her open her eyes and they was black as coal


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Male Elf Cleric 4 | AC (17), T (12), FF (15) |HP: 29/29 (0 NL) | F +4, R +4, W +7 | Init +3, Perc +7 |CMD 16

Diarmal stood at the entrance to the common room, his clothes hastily donned and sleep still in his eyes. He brushed it away, the strange screams and noises from the alleyway below his room at the forefront of his mind.

He'd seen a lot of men fight, and broken up quite a few of those fights. Caused a few, too. But none had made noises like that.

"Nonsense," he murmured to the sleepy inn. "Someone- well, never mind. I'd better just go take a peek in the tavern. Make sure everything's all cleared up, at least. Then we can all get some unimpeded slumber."

Grabbing his pack - he'd had the foresight to keep it packed and ready to go at a moment's notice - Diarmal nodded goodnight to the other patrons and headed across the road to the Two Barrels. Cautiously, he pushed the door open to see what lay inside...


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Female Elf Ranger 1

The woman approaching in the longboat appeared as annoyed as the other passengers, though not from the cold water sloshing over their ankles.

"Cannae believe they care 'bout that lout," Redwyn mutters, scratching roughly at her unkempt red hair like a dog with an itch. "Be sendin' me all this way, an' they've no proper sense o' the water line. An' the...smell." She breathed deeply, her face souring. "What's wrong with the smell here? I don't like this one bit."

She was out of the boat ten feet before is sensible, though she did not seem phased as she hopped into the lapping waves. She even used her rough hewn spear to vault herself part of the way. Rydwen was already trudging into the town before the boat is tied, without a single glance back or a grunt of recognition.

"Diarmal, ye thrice damned fool," she groans quietly to herself. "If it weren't fer the wanderin' I wouldnae even be here. I barely even remember ye. Damnation, why me?" Seeing activity at the tavern she strides there in a straight and unwavering line, knocking over a rubbish bin that happens to be in her way.

"Sooner I be gettin' back to me bog, the better."

Completely OOC dice test, since I don't know how to do them and want to figure it out before it's needed!

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

I see that roll's been a 20 the whole time I was correcting typos in preview. Does that mean we get that first set roll, and have the opporunity to write about our success or failure lower in that same post (as long as we preview?)


Male Grippli Fighter (lore warden)/2, Druid 1 | AC 17, T 14, FF 14 |HP: 20/34 | F 7, R 3, W 4 | Init 5, P 8 |CMD 15

Ribat observed an elf vault to shore by spear as the boat approached the dock. Well, she sure seems to be in a hurry! I wonder what's so important? After the crew tied the boat securely to the dock, Ribat gingerly stepped onto the pier and looked around. Seeing activity around the tavern, Ribat slowly approached it, attempting to stay in the shadows. I'm not sure what's going on, but I've got a bad feeling that it's going to bad for business.


Android Gunslinger (Musket Master)/4 | AC 18, T 15, FF 13 | HP: 42/46 | F+5, R+8, W+3 | Init+6, P+11 | CMD 19

Marvin is preoccupied with performing rudimentary maintenance on their musket, cleaning out the gunpowder and oiling the grooves, but remains very much alert.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28


Female Elf Ranger 1

Her stomach rumbled, and the feisty redhead - already quick to temper - became even angrier upon realizing that she was completely out of rations. The voyage had obviously not allowed for the hunting of small game that she was so used to feeding from, and she hadn't had a thing to eat since last night. She hadn't torn through her rations from hunger, but boredom...by Tarclughlin, was she bored. After hearing tales of sailors she thought they'd be happy to spar, but they seemed far too cultivated and professional to engage. Rydwen decided there that no good can come from water that moves.

So caught up in her thoughts of Diarmal, she does not actually see him, and roughly hurls open the door to the tavern in the hopes of inquiring to his whereabouts. Clearly she would need to barter for some sort of foodstuffs. She wasn't able to flush out any wild ducks or do any fishing, but she still had the small pouch of coins the clan elders had given her. The weight of the bag felt heavy with responsibility.

Lantern Lodge

male Wayang Eysterlun Shadowcaster 4 | AC 21*, T 15, FF 19* |HP: 23/23 | F +3, R +3, W +3? | Init +2, P +4 |CMB 0 CMD 12| 1/4 Void Points

Sasithorn examines the monsters' erstwhile victim.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Sense Motive (if relevant): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

I scan her with Mystic Reflections (detect magic).


Male, old, old, Male

Thursday Night (turn 129), Two Barrels Tavern

Marvin:
While everyone else is keeping an eye on Holly, you notice that Paulina is standing very still and holding up the handle of her flail in a most unusual way. Though most of your memories of what you are and how you came to be here are corrupted, and often information that you try to retrieve is incomplete, you suddenly have a flash of insight that what she is holding is actually a cleverly disguised audio and visual recording device

Sasithorn:
You detect a moderate, lingering aura all around the girl. Studying it for a few moments you begin to feel as though you might be able to identify the school of magic involved. The DC for a Knowledge Arcana Skill Check to identify the school is 20


Android Gunslinger (Musket Master)/4 | AC 18, T 15, FF 13 | HP: 42/46 | F+5, R+8, W+3 | Init+6, P+11 | CMD 19

Before Rydwen enters the tavern, Marvin is in motion to investigate a potential danger. The android puts down the cloth they were using and holds their musket steady in two hands, quietly walking to behind Paulina.

Stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

If they go unnoticed, they position their musket towards Paulina, pressing its muzzle against her back.

"Drop the recording device and state your identity."


Male Elf Cleric 4 | AC (17), T (12), FF (15) |HP: 29/29 (0 NL) | F +4, R +4, W +7 | Init +3, Perc +7 |CMD 16

Hardly having had half a second to take in the scene in the tavern before him, the door flies open in his wake. Diarmal spins around and his eyes reflexively widen at the sight of a fellow Drasbian. But not just anyone...

"Rydwen? By Aisling's graces, is that really you? How- Where- What are you doing here? Last I saw you, you were back in the highlands... and that was years ago!"


Male, old, old, Male

Everyone do me the courtesy of freezing for a moment, while I address Marvin's action. I'll be back soon

Lantern Lodge

male Wayang Eysterlun Shadowcaster 4 | AC 21*, T 15, FF 19* |HP: 23/23 | F +3, R +3, W +3? | Init +2, P +4 |CMB 0 CMD 12| 1/4 Void Points

This still happens before or at the same time as that.

Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Spellcraft (if relevant): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

Also: How much experience (if any) do our characters have other than what we got from the fight?


Male, old, old, Male

Sasitorn:
You started with 100 experience points. You can clearly see that the magic surrounding the girl is Necromantic, and that it is not fading

Marvin questions the attractive Dwarven woman...


NPC: F Dwarf (?)

Paulina drops her flail

My name is Paulina Southmiller. And, I don't know what you are talking about.

Her luck could not be any worse, as when the flail hits the floor it begins to emit a low beeping sound

Aw, nuts. Look, she says as she raises her hands in the air, you don't need to point that thing at me, alright. Just take it easy. I'm not a threat. My name IS Paulina Southmiller and I am an agent of the Interplanetary Relief Society. I'm just a regular second class field scout responsible for general observations and reports. I had nothing to do with those things outside, and frankly I've never seen anything like them. Let's all just relax and talk about it.


Male, old, old, Male

Diarmal walks into the Two Barrel tavern just as a coppery haired, strange looking sort of being
it is not immediately obvious to Diarmal if this being is human or some kind of elf, or even something he has never seen before

appears to be holding a metal rod against the back of an attractive female dwarf.

Diarmal isn't sure what he is seeing is a threat or if it is some kind of bizre tavern game

When the dwarven woman begins to talk, that is when Rydwen walks in a few steps behind him and he turns to express his surprise at seeing his cousin. Just past her, in the lamp light and shadows outside of the tavern, Diarmal sees a small frog-like man casually approaching

Diarmal:
Please make an untrained Knowledge Check, the DC is 10, if you fail, you think you see a Bullywug, and you only know this because people have told you what a Bullywug looks like, if you beat the roll, you are almost certain that the creature is not what a Bullywug should look like

Okay, let's let everyone unfreeze


Male Dwarf Stone Oracle/Fighter(Weapon Master) 1/3 I AC 18, T 17 I FF 17 I HP 40/40 I Saves F: 4, R: 2, W: 3 I Init: +1, Per: +1

*Holds rock menancingly*

Interplan...Uh Wot didya do to the girl there

*points at Holly*


Male Elf Cleric 4 | AC (17), T (12), FF (15) |HP: 29/29 (0 NL) | F +4, R +4, W +7 | Init +3, Perc +7 |CMD 16

Knowledge (stuff): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

With his attention split between the scene unraveling in the tavern before him, the unexpected arrival of his cousin, and the stranger approach-

By the gods, a Bullywug?

"Look out!"

Remembering the tales of the creature's supposed barbarism, he wasn't about to let his cousin fall victim to its attacks so soon after being reunited with her! He leapt for the door, interposing himself between Rydwen and the creature.

It only occurred to him after making a fool of himself that perhaps the creature's stroll into town meant they were decidedly less barbaric than the stories told. He stood with his eyes locked on the Bullywug's.

"Uh- greetings?"


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Male Grippli Fighter (lore warden)/2, Druid 1 | AC 17, T 14, FF 14 |HP: 20/34 | F 7, R 3, W 4 | Init 5, P 8 |CMD 15

As one of the elves rushes towards him, Ribat jumps back. Ribat knew exactly what was going on. Here we go again...

Given your...precipitous...reaction, I can only surmise that you have mistaken me for one of my barbaric cousins, sir. I must protest in the strongest terms. I wasn't automatically going to assume that you were reckless, despite the conduct of this other specimen of your kind." Ribat motions towards Rydwen. Truly, you must be a veritable bumpkin. A man of cosmopolitan tastes would realize that one cannot judge a book by its cover."


NPC: F Dwarf (?)

meanwhile, inside the tavern, where Paulina cannot hear the clear comments of the small frog-like man...

Um, what? NO! I didn't do anything to her. Anything I swear!


Female Gymnagaopthian Cleric/1 | AC 16, T12, FF14 |HP: 7/7 (d8-1) | F: +1, R: +2, W: +5 | Init: +2, P: +3 | CMD 12

Xor, Tessrimea says moving behind the burly dwarf, I thought she was with you. You don't know this dwarven woman?


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Male Elf Cleric 4 | AC (17), T (12), FF (15) |HP: 29/29 (0 NL) | F +4, R +4, W +7 | Init +3, Perc +7 |CMD 16

"I- well, no- it's-"

Diarmal took a long, deep breath. That went about as badly as anything could have gone. So much for being a proper representative of Lady Aisling. He gave a long and humble bow - a gesture he'd learned from many of the humans he'd crossed paths with. He hoped it translated to Bullywug.

"My deepest apologies, and trust that I speak for myself and my fellow, here. Whatever that- er, specimen did to offend you, I will take full responsibility. You must understand that our land is a harsh one that does not forgive indolence in the face of apparent danger."

He kept his head lowered, though he heard the folks behind him speaking of strange things. He kept a small amount of his attention on those proceedings, even as the Bullywug stood at the tavern's threshold.


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Female Elf Ranger 1

"What in the bloody blazes--!" Rydwen stumbled back at her cousin's approach, increased anger giving way to shock. "Di-Diarmal?!"

The hunter faltered about, ill at ease in such civilized civilization. Her hair whipped around as she suddenly took in the strange assortment of beings before her.

That her relative was there should hardly have been that surprising, nor his rush to intervene. Clans and kin were strong among the Drasbian highlands. Through the crowd she caught a quick glimpse of a pale and copper-haired individual that could have hailed from her homeland...though as they hadn't rushed in as well, Ryd instantly knew that they were just another foreigner.

Through stammers and stares she kept shooting back to the tiny frog man; it appeared he had fascinated her far more than on the boat. Truth to tell, she hadn't really paid much attention to anyone as she was so wrapped up in actively ignoring them and focusing on the shore, and stewing in her own juices. That she would miss someone or something such as that left a wound.

The tavern's assembled had exotic clothes with none of a strong kilt's camping functionality. They flapped their mouths with too many words and not enough meaning, and not nearly enough brogue.

"Hmph. City folk."


Male, old, old, Male

just a quick reminder that the Discussion thread of many games doesn't get used enough, in my opinion, and it is a great place to clear up any misunderstandings, or to set up an exchange between characters when a few questions can be asked to help make a role play post even better. It has been my experience that if you treat the PbP experience like a real Table, and engage other players in the Discussion thread it can go a long way to improving the game thread, thanks, now back to our regularly scheduled program


Male Grippli Fighter (lore warden)/2, Druid 1 | AC 17, T 14, FF 14 |HP: 20/34 | F 7, R 3, W 4 | Init 5, P 8 |CMD 15

Ribat recognizes the gesture. Though not a grippli gesture, it was one Ribat had observed often in his short career as a darkwood salesman. There you go again, Ribat. What an effect you have on people! He did push your buttons, but that's no excuse for flying off the handle. Oh, well, nothing to be done for it but try to make amends...
Apology accepted, at least on your own behalf. My entire point was that people can't be held responsible for what their fellows do. On the other hand, given the change in this lady's demeanor and the fact that the two of you are obviously acquainted, I suspect you might have played a role in her equally precipitous departure from the rowboat that carried us ashore this evening.
Ribat looks at the female elf. Madam, I hadn't the foggiest notion what to make of your behavior earlier. The prowess with which you executed the maneuver impressed me, but the sheer recklessness thereof frightened me. Given your obvious skill, I can see why you thought you would emerge unscathed, but I fear the same might not have been true for the rest of us if your stunt had capsized the boat. At any rate, that's water under the driftwood now. No harm done, as it turns out; we all made it ashore safely.
Ribat returns his gaze to the male elf. Sir, I feel as though I must also apologize. I understand the imperatives that a dangerous homeland can place upon one; I fear my own home is not the safest place in the world. It's just I'm positively tired of having to answer for their actions. However, I was out of line when I called you a 'bumpkin.' Hello, my name is Ribat, and I am a Grippli not a Bullywug.
Ribat extends his right hand in another human gesture gleaned from his recent travels.


Female Elf Ranger 1

After staring down at Ribat for a long while, expressionless, she began nudging him with her spear. Perhaps not quite roughly as much as...exuberantly. She got down on her hands and knees and looked him square in the eye. Her accent appeared increasingly thick in her excitment, the words falling out of her mouth without grace and practically thudding on the tavern's floorboards, and Diarmal might be the only one that doesn't need to strain to make her decipherable.

"War'er, war'er, always with the war'er! Why even the wee toad be afeared o' gettin' splashed! Why don't none be likin' the war'er? Should take to it as read'ly as road, but none ye cannae do. Methinks ye just willnae. Brick an' bridge be makin' ye all sof' an' lazy."

"An' wot's a 'bumpkin'? Cannae eat it?" Rydwen could, in truth, eat a great many things; not that this necessarily made them edible.


Male Grippli Fighter (lore warden)/2, Druid 1 | AC 17, T 14, FF 14 |HP: 20/34 | F 7, R 3, W 4 | Init 5, P 8 |CMD 15

Ribat grips the shaft of the elf's spear firmly in an attempt to hold it still. He looks straight at her, and his brow furrows as he attempts to decipher her words. Madam, I'm going to have to insist kindly that you cease and desist. As for your rejoinder, I am not 'afeared' for myself, I can handle myself just fine in the water, thank you very much. I cannot necessarily vouchsafe that the same is true for the other passengers, however. Secondly, you make a grave error in lumping all of the other passengers together; I dare say you've seen more brick and bridges than I have.


Male Grippli Fighter (lore warden)/2, Druid 1 | AC 17, T 14, FF 14 |HP: 20/34 | F 7, R 3, W 4 | Init 5, P 8 |CMD 15

Bumpkins are people who insist on making over-broad generalizations about other people on the basis of their rather limited personal experience; I dare say you can't eat one...unless you're a cannibal?
8 Charisma, all the way, :)


Male Dwarf Stone Oracle/Fighter(Weapon Master) 1/3 I AC 18, T 17 I FF 17 I HP 40/40 I Saves F: 4, R: 2, W: 3 I Init: +1, Per: +1
Tessrimea Niessomat wrote:
Xor, Tessrimea says moving behind the burly dwarf, I thought she was with you. You don't know this dwarven woman?

No lass, I just saw er tonight during the brouhaha out back


Male Halfling Paladin/3 | Init +2, P +2 | HP: 16/25 | AC 19, T 13, FF 17 | F +8, R +7, W +6 | CMD 14 (Wisdom currently 9)

"Tess, is it? Could you check Holly again. I think there may be something still wrong with her. Xor, seems pretty sure he saw something. I didn't see anything unusual."

Nathaniel walks around the girl, and turns his head to see some commotion going on a the the door.

"You said you were called Marvin, didn't you?" he says as he turns back around, now facing the Dwarven woman and addressing the strange copper haired being standing behind her. "I don't know what that thing is that you are pointing at her, nor do I know why you'd be concerned about her holding that flail. Somebody better start explaining things."


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Female Gnome 1/Druid | AC (14), T (12), FF (12) |HP: (8)/(8) | F(2), R(1), W(4) | Init(1), P(7) |CMD (8)

"And then they were all like 'Whoa we give you the gift of sailing to Eshia, as we are very proud of... Oh, they were King and Queen, I forget that part. Anyway they were like...!

So begins Felicia's quest.

She had been on the ship sailing for days, though given the amount of time she had spent on it, she seemed no worse for wear. She asked questions, lots of questions. She made it an effort to talk to anyone, and everyone. The captain was her favorite, he always seemed to shake when she started coming up. Felicia liked to pretend that it was because of the awesome prowess of the great Gnomes of Wuingnomoska. While that thought made her feel mighty, it did kind of hurt her to know people were afraid of her. It never occurred to her she could have been bothersome, or even trouble.

When the ship did Dock, and she was told to go ashore, she had gotten her belongings in a bag, did an inventory count, and came up on deck. It was there she saw the elf, someone she hadn't gotten to know quite yet. she was already running up to introduce herself, when she went flying off the boat. "IS that normal? Am I supposed to do that?" She announced out loud to anyone who could hear her. She was already halfway up the edge when she finally did a double take and saw no one else making the same attempt. She thought better of it, and stayed on the boat until it properly made itself to dock. Her patience running thin... Should have just jumped.

Finally, everything was secured. Felicia snugged her pack against her shoulder and fell in line with the others to walk off, bracing herself for whatever she may run into. Though, that serious attitude left as soon as it came. When she saw him, the slimy looking one. "Oh hey!" Felicia called out for Ribat, though he seemed all the same unable to hear her. She tried to follow, really she did, though soon enough she was taking in the sights and sounds of this new land. "There's lots of tall people here! Seems sad though. feel a thick something or another in the air. I should ask about that, oh hey, what's that?"

She got distracted long enough for Ribat to get ahead of her, though soon enough the tavern came into her sight, where Ribat was... And he seemed in distress, though the fact he was standing at the door and she couldn't see beyond him made it hard for her to realize what was going on. "Hey! What's going on?! I want to help!" Felicia exclaims loudly, not much of a care to who may hear her. It didn't take long to draw her spear as she came running to the door, to see what the fuss was about.

Though soon even that died down, as well as Felicia's own attempt to be helpful, when she came up she locked eyes with the man, trying to look as fierce as her small body could, before she looked beyond him at the tavern inside. "Oh wow, this is a nice house, it's not as big as the one I went to to go on this trip, but it's nice. Think they will give me food?" Then the elf who had dropped off the boat was in her eyes. "Hey!" She exclaimed at her, altogether dropping her spear to point a finger and press against her waist with a firm push. "No one else jumped off the boat, I almost followed and looked like a fool! You shouldn't draw that kind of attention to yourself, it's bad manners! Though it's okay, I'm Felicia, nice to meet you. I didn't see you on the boat, why are you here? What did Ribat do? He robbing you?"

Though before long she saw all sorts of tense going on in the tavern, a dwarf with some...stick to her back while others spoke with her, and a flail on the ground. She stood there, silently a moment, before reaching down, and grabbing her spear again.

"I'm on Ribat's side!" She exclaims loudly, gripping her spear shaft as she prepped herself for whatever may come. "Leave him alone!"


Female Elf Ranger 1

The wilds woman's face becomes as red as her hair. She spent a good deal of most days catching toads for bait, to sell as spell components, or even to eat when times were lean enough. That suddenly there was a large one, dressed, and with fancier speak than she was capable of almost caused the floorboards to splinter as her hands clenched to fists.

Due to her drawback, Rydwen now has a -2 to Diplomacy and Sense Motive with Ribat because of her stubborn pride. This will last indefinitely, until "he apologizes." I'll keep a list on my sheet, since this will start coming up with a lot of folks. I doubt most if any of such apologies would ever actually be warranted!

Redwyn was just as shocked by Felicia's arrival. Was she on the boat too? She must truly have been self-absorbed if she hadn't noticed these two. She attempted to shake both off and step backwards, into the tavern. "...were jus' a boa'" she mumbled to her, drowning the sentence in her accent and the sash of her kilt.

"An' wer althes why yetukta--" She turned to her cousin after a moment, forcing herself to calm down and slow down, her voice to returning to comparative normalcy. "And were all this why you took to traveling? These..." Only those able to understand Drasbian and its slang, somehow, know the word:

Spoiler:
"foreigners?"

"You took off, Diarmal. You left your kin. I know we weren't the closest, an' I know the elders don't care. But they should."


Male Elf Cleric 4 | AC (17), T (12), FF (15) |HP: 29/29 (0 NL) | F +4, R +4, W +7 | Init +3, Perc +7 |CMD 16

"Aye, I did... with a heavy heart, Rydwen. But Lady Aisling wouldn't want us to wait idly by while the world turns. I couldn't..."

Diarmal trails off, knowing in his heart that, on some level, Rydwen was right. Drasbians, no matter where they may find themselves, would always be clansmen. And he'd forgotten that. He'd even lost most of his accent on the road, apparently forgetting it at some roadside inn years ago...

Reaching back into his past, he pulls out his best drasbian, complete with accent.

Drasbian:
"Apologies, cous'."

With a smile, he turned to the two strange (and short) folk at the door. Extending his hand, he gladly shook Ribbat's offered hand. "I assure you, no Drasbian has ever eaten a kinsman! The name's Diarmal, and it seems the both of you have already met good Rydwen, here."


Male Grippli Fighter (lore warden)/2, Druid 1 | AC 17, T 14, FF 14 |HP: 20/34 | F 7, R 3, W 4 | Init 5, P 8 |CMD 15

After Diarmal shakes his hand, Ribat turns to Felicia. No, Felicia,Ribat says in a patient tone, I am not robbing these folk. Never would I contemplate such a dastardly deed. Overstate the going rate for darkwood to pad my profit margin? Maybe. Common cutpurse antics? Never! I must say--and I hope this is does not offend you (I seem to be managing to offend everyone today)--I find it rather curious that you would basically accuse me of being a thief in one breath and offer to defend me with the next. I appreciate the gesture of friendship, but truly, you must have a most intriguing perspective on life. Why don't we continue inside and discuss it over drinks?
Ribat turns to stare directly at Rydwen. His bulging eyes not even blinking, he speaks to her in perfectly accented Drasbian with a measured, reasonable tone:

Spoiler:
Whatever his other deficiencies might be, at least Diarmal has learned to respect other peoples and ways of doing things. You would do well to emulate him in at least that respect, Rydwen. If you persist in underestimating 'foreigners,' who knows what evil may befall you? I insist on being respected, but I have no quarrel with you. Why don't you and your cousin come inside with us?


Female Gnome 1/Druid | AC (14), T (12), FF (12) |HP: (8)/(8) | F(2), R(1), W(4) | Init(1), P(7) |CMD (8)

She was standing at the ready, occasionally thrusting forward in an attempt to show her amazing prowess. Though it was beginning to seem like no fighting was to be done. More so, they were seeming to stand down. When he spoke, Felicia turned to Diarmal, her spear beginning to lower a bit as she addressed Ribat. "I think he is not fighting you anymore are we flaying-," she stopped short, as she witnessed Ribat take his hand and shake it. Which in turn made her put her weapon back on her back.

When addressed, she turned to face the Grippili full on. "Well we WERE on the same ship, that makes us ship mates I think. Though usually in my experience people tend to get mad if you take their stuff. So I just thought maybe that was what you were doing. Have you done it before? I did on accident, it was a dare back home when I went to the big castle. Though, the King said it was okay. Oh! Did I tell you why I am exploring?" It was a ramble to be sure, though it was not long after that did she here the term drink. "Oh okay, I like water, get me a glass! I can fill it up with my special powers!"

Regardless she would squeeze by the best she could moving up first to Diarmal and waving. "Sorry I almost killed you. I am Felicia, I'm here for a drink so I can't talk right now. But you should come and tell me about you and your boat jumping relative here. Why do you do that? That is strange. Is it something about the ears? Why do you all talk in weird tongues? Are you talking about me? Because I was told it is rude to talk about people in other languages. Stop that. Oh hey wait!" Felicia turned, looking inside the tavern, She pointed at the going ons already happening before their arrival. "What's that stick? Why is she pointing it at that pretty faced bit really wide woman? It is not pointed. Does she know?" she managed out before walking in and exclaiming louder. "It's okay! We are not fighting anymore! Get your stick out of that weird looking woman's back!"

Lantern Lodge

male Wayang Eysterlun Shadowcaster 4 | AC 21*, T 15, FF 19* |HP: 23/23 | F +3, R +3, W +3? | Init +2, P +4 |CMB 0 CMD 12| 1/4 Void Points

Sasithorn's attention phases from his hearing and peripheral vision back to Holly, whom he is still ostensibly staring at. "Have you been practicing the Dark Arts for long?" He asks her. "If not, you may wish to consult a greater expert than I, the sooner the better - I see they've touched you." He smiles. "Don't fret overmuch, though; your life, perhaps even others', may be in danger, but for all I know, you may just as soon have been given a gift! Those things did choose to single you out, and they seemed as much constructed as living - perhaps they were servitors to something greater...."


Android Gunslinger (Musket Master)/4 | AC 18, T 15, FF 13 | HP: 42/46 | F+5, R+8, W+3 | Init+6, P+11 | CMD 19

Woah, that's a lot of posts. Apologies if this was late, I'm at GMT+8 and may not be always be on the same time as others.

"Identity accepted. Agent Paulina Southmiller, second class field scout, of the Interplanetary Relief Society now logged in the database. Please verify your identity by stating your given IRS authorization code."

Marvin puts down their musket and almost immediately slackens, upper body hanging down and circuitry tattoos glowing dimly as their voice continues in a drone.

"...Database corrupted. Authorization codes unable to be found. System is in emergency mode. Root authorization required to exit. Critical information: Recovery protocol initiated, reconstructed from background and local stimuli. System lockdown is in effect. Panopticon protocols restricted. Database access restricted. Entanglement communicator inoperable. Critical Mission Failure."

After a moment, Marvin straightens up and faces Nathaniel to answer his questions. "Information restricted. Forward request to nearest agent."

When yelled at by Felicia, Marvin only stares at her blank-faced.


NPC: F Dwarf (?)

Authorization codes? we haven't used those in over two hundred years. Everything is verified through Thermo-Ion Metric Attenuation Count, quicker and impossible to fake. Wait, what? Is this thing an android? That isn't right. Nathaniel, right. Look, all I was doing was recording the scene to be forwarded to my service system where it is being streamed at high speed to an orbiting...

Paulina realizes she has said too much, and recognizes that Nathaniel isn't understanding a thing she is saying.

Let me start over. My name is Paulina Southmiller and I work for an organization that performs monitoring, and relief services to people in distress. This organization is operated by a intergalactic treaty, that's a ...


Male, old, old, Male

Thursday Night (turn 132), Two Barrels Tavern

The cacophony of conversations is overwhelming.

The coppery haired individual speaks in nearly unintelligible gibberish, while the small dark-skinned Eysturlun begins to ask questions of a blond girl lying on two tables.

She cannot lift her head, and stares up at him with confusion in her eyes.

A Gymnagaopthian moves to stand between the Eysturlun and the girl, protectively. She raises herself up onto her knee and glares disapprovingly at the Eysturlun.

Nathianiel Boote, the Eshian Paladin, stands confused, his mind spinning with too many conflicting and overlapping conversations.

Everyone seems to be talking at once, and then suddenly there is a strange calmness that sweeps through the room, and a series of unmistakably unworldly sounds

*ssssshWhooop*

a silent pause

*THOOOM!*

A deep tone sounds and seems to shake the building, followed by a wave of distortion that flows through the room causing everything and everyone to bend, stretch to the east and upwards, and then like the supple branches of a young tree caught in a powerful gust of wind, bent to an extreme position, like a sudden snap, everything returns to normal.

It seems quiet for a moment, and then to the west of the tavern a low droning noise begins to rise like a swarm of huge and angry bees is approaching.

Please remember it is DARK, the time is approximately 9:50 pm, the turn meter at the top represents ten minute increments. The only light outside is a common lantern hanging by the door of the tavern.

Lantern Lodge

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male Wayang Eysterlun Shadowcaster 4 | AC 21*, T 15, FF 19* |HP: 23/23 | F +3, R +3, W +3? | Init +2, P +4 |CMB 0 CMD 12| 1/4 Void Points

Sasithorn's mind races at the speed of thought as he tries to figure out what just happened.

Consider each skill check below to carry the caveat "if applicable."
Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Linguistics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17

I probe the 4 cardinal directions of my surroundings with Mystic Reflections (detect magic).

As though as an afterthought, Sasithorn looks up at Tessrimea, points at Holly, and asks, "Do you know why she's positively marinated in necromantic power? I'm afraid I can't place it...."


Android Gunslinger (Musket Master)/4 | AC 18, T 15, FF 13 | HP: 42/46 | F+5, R+8, W+3 | Init+6, P+11 | CMD 19

Good to know what the turn meter means! And Marvin has darkvision (60 ft.) and low-light vision. Moving to E,0.

"Distortion detected. Unknown noise registered due west. Moving to gather data." Marvin exits the tavern, sidestepping the elves and Grippli to face west, the direction where the noise is coming from. Musket in hand, their eyes look into the darkness, the metallic sheen more apparent in the dim light of the tavern's lantern.

Perception (hearing might be more useful): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

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