This Means War!

Game Master metid

War is coming to Golarion. Where will you be?
Battle Map
4 Desnus || Third Quarter || Mostly Sunny


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The light of the waning moon shines gently down onto the empty village square, sending low shadows sprawling from the buildings surrounding it. For such a bustling, crowded place during the day, the stillness that night brings makes this place feel like a ghost town.

It is nearly midnight when the first of you arrive, perhaps out of some sense of punctuality, or you simply misread the moon's position in the sky. Either way, it seems as though your contact has not yet appeared. Nothing to do now except wait.


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

Aviz sits on his perch, fauchard held loosely while he gazes down at the meeting spot suspiciously. This better not be a setup. Either it's a distraction or they don't think I'm a threat. He had been here for nearly an hour now, although most of that time had been spent circling the area and learning the lay of the land. At this point he's just waiting on a rooftop, hiding in the shadows of a nearby tree. Whoever arrives here, he intends to see them before they see him.


Male Strix

"I may not be as smart as the humans, but I am smarter than most of my sort. It doesn't take a genius to realize that if I'm the best to carry this object away, then they know what I am, and they must be desperate."

Choraak moved slowly into the square, looking in as many directions as he could. The hunter's instincts of his kin was legendary among The People, but Choraak had no illusions about his own abilities. He was a clawless babe, newly from the nest, before his first molting, when it came to these things.

"Nobody here, but us humans," he thought to himself.


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3

Marcaius took an empty seat on the edge of the square, and stuffed the folded remnants of a large sign that read 'THE END IS UPON US!' in big hand-painted print inside his backpack. He shifted the double-headed flail aside from its holster and stretched his legs, limited as they were by the battered scale mail that he wore.

He was tired, but not disheartened; two people actually stood and listened to his preaching for nearly a whole five minutes today, and one woman had dropped a silver shield into his donation cup; all in all it had been a more productive day than many. As usual his warnings about the imminent apocalypse were met with silence or the occasional jeer, but he had long since been use to it. Besides, the town guard hadn't given him much trouble (yet), and he could afford to spend a few more days in this village before moving on with his message.

His work was so very necessary, after all, especially in these troubled times. And then there was the matter of that note...


Male Strix

Oops, I gave no description.

Choraak is an extremely dark skinned bald humanoid, a grayish black tone, not brown in the least. The rough stubble on his head could seem like some horrible skin affliction combined with ingrown hairs all over. His frame is very gaunt and angular. He wears an odd-shaped backpack over his black and grey leathers. Tall gray leather boots with overbroad soles must have been purchased off the bargain rack, given how unskilled must have been their creator. His hands and fingers seem freakishly large as the emerge from the ends of his long sleeves, and the strange skin affliction appears to not have spared them.

If you will, imagine a shaved bird. How the shaved down quills might look strange on a humanoid's skin. That's what I'm going for here.


Male Gnoll Ranger (Trapper/Warden) 1 (HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 T:11 FF:16 | F: 5 R: 3 W: 2 | Init +1 Per +7)

Falstaff shuffles into the square, peeking furtively out from under the hood of his large cloak.

He looks up at the sky, humming quietly up at the moon. His yellow orbs sweep from the brilliant light of the moon to the scattered radiance of the stars.

Desna smiles on me this night, he thinks to himself.

His six-foot-five frame pads over to one of the benches, his keen eyes piercing the gloom with a predator's ease. One, south edge. Two, cautiously moving in from the south-east. Three? That could be a person, but I'm not sure.

Falstaff breaths a huffing growl as he leans on his scythe like a walking stick.

Which to approach? South, or South-East? Or should I even risk it? Falstaff rubs his left shoulder absentmindedly, remembering being chased out of that scummy village in Ustalav.

Once more he looks to the sky. Without risk there is no reward.

Falstaff pads up to the figure sitting on the southern edge of the square. Marcauis, just so you know.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Falstaff asks, trying to be nonchalant.


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

Looking up at the moon, Dorian sees that it's about 5 minutes to midnight as he walks up to the town square. He pauses for a second taking in the scene of a scaly humanoid toward the center of the square and across the square from Dorian is a hulking cloaked figure talking to a human sitting on a bench. At the site of the cloaked figure, Mani lets out a low growl. Dorian, sensing Mani's uneasiness, puts his hand on Mani's back and quietly whispers, "Shah fraha, Mani"

Azlanti:
"Easy there, Mani"

I don't like him either. There's something eerily unsettling about him.

Dorian glances up at the moon.
Well, It's almost midnight.

Opposite the square from Falstaff and Marcaius, a tall, slender elf in a gray cloak walks out of the shadows and pulls the hood of his cloak down revealing his long, silvery white (not gray) hair. His skin is pale, even for an elf and both his skin and hair seem to glow with the moonlight. He carries a walking stick about an inch shorter than he is. By his side is a large canine, about 3 feet tall at the shoulder, with the same color fur as the elf's hair. They take a few steps into the square and wait patiently, taking in the scene. Though they look like they've been on the road a long while, they seem fairly clean and vigilant.


Wolf Animal Companion 1 [HP:4/16] [AC:14, T:12, F:12] [Fort:+5, Ref:+5, Will:+1] [Init:+2, Percep:+5]

Mani stands by Dorian's side and glares at Falstaff.


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3

"Mmm. I suppose s--"

Marcaius turned to answer the question and found himself face to face with a gnoll.

It was wearing a large cloak that hid most of its body from view, but it was a gnoll, no mistake about that. Now, Marcaius had travelled pretty extensively on his mission, and he'd seen gnolls before, but generally they were either slave traders from northern Garund or demon-worshipping raiders who attempted to kill/rob/enslave/eat people if given the opportunity. You certainly didn't expect to meet one engaging in polite small talk in a random Chelaxian village.

Should he be screaming? No one else seemed to be screaming. Or running for that matter. That was good, it meant they probably weren't being raided. And Cheliax was renowned for its slave trade, although this was a small village and he hadn't seen many actual slaves. That usually went on in the cities.

Yes, that was logical. This gnoll must be a slave trader on his way to the city, which is why nobody seemed to be alarmed by his presence.

Best to act natural.

"Tell me, friend, have you heard the news? Oblivion is near, and the Skull-Faced Moon will soon descend upon the Spire to devour all that is. How do you plan to spend your remaining days?"


Male Gnoll Ranger (Trapper/Warden) 1 (HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 T:11 FF:16 | F: 5 R: 3 W: 2 | Init +1 Per +7)

I don't remember the letter mentioning some sort of code... Falstaff pauses as he muses over the man's words. What deviousness have I got myself into?

"This is indeed the first I have heard of this. I had not read this message in the Great Tapestry, so I thank you for the warning." Falstaff attempts to be cordial. Blast, now what? Think, gods damn it!

"I plan to seek enlightenment for the journey, much as you do." Falstaff says carefully.

Excellent, now I've alluded to the letter, and the fact that I am willing to help. Man, Garret's lessons on clandestine operations had nothing on this guy!


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3

A hopeful smile was framed by Marcaius' scruffy grey beard. He was actually interested in listening! Well, gnoll or not, he couldn't let this chance slip by.

"Indeed!" he says, happily. "As well you should! The sixth configuration on the cusp of the thirteenth parallel indicates that when the Follower shines it's pallid light upon Aucturn's shadow, the Thin Men will leave the Kingdom of the Godless en masse in a futile effort to escape what is to come. This will happen on the fourth day, making it the eleventh sign, don't you see? 13 minus 6 plus 4 equals 11! It's all so self-evident when you realize where to look!"

He stops smiling and looks mildly concerned, pointing at the wolf across the way that's glaring at Falstaff.

"I say, that dog has been staring at you for quite some time. Are you by chance carrying any sausages on your person? You may be standing upwind."


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

Aviz is more than a little surprised to see one of his kind step into the area first. Another strix? What are the chances of that?..Still, curiosity killed the cat. Hmph, he looks a bit trimmed anyways. He thinks with disapproval. He slowly rotates his head sideways as the old crazy man enters and he sneers his lip. That's the old man who was whining about the end of the world in the streets. Either I'm being played a fool or there's more than meets the eye to him. Next the tall, yellow-eyed creature walks in and earns another sneer. Now a gnoll. What kind of band of misfits are we collecting here? Then the most normal of them all walks in, a fair elf, but earns the biggest sneer yet. Bloody elves. He thinks simply. The dog walks in and Aviz shrinks a bit. That creature is going to smell me if I'm upwind... But as the gnoll and crazy old man start talking Aviz lets his thoughts go silent to listen.


Male Gnoll Ranger (Trapper/Warden) 1 (HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 T:11 FF:16 | F: 5 R: 3 W: 2 | Init +1 Per +7)

Damn. Falstaff mentally whistled his appreciation for the old human's tradecraft. He's almost too good for me to follow.

So, there are thirteen people watching us, six of whom are his allies. He says there are four more people coming up from behind me? Wow, he's good. Eleven hostiles and six allies? This guy's amazing!

Falstaff quickly glances around, trying to spot the people the old man says are there.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

Wait, dog? Almost without his notice, Falstaff lets out a low growl as he spies the canine. I. Hate. Dogs.

"Dogs and I...Don't get along." Falstaff mutters darkly, venom dripping in his tone. Dogs. Human's best friends. Always working together to run me out of town. It's always "Grab your torch and pitchfork, rustle up the dogs, and run that mangy Gnoll out of town!" Pretentious little sh*ts.

"Canines have a strict hierarchy in their packs. Alphas, betas, pack, and runts. Sometimes runts get kicked out of the pack." Falstaff grumbles a few words under his breath.

"The runts who survive living on their own become Omegas, stronger than Alphas and far more independent. No canine that follows a hierarchy tolerates an Omega." Falstaff smiles grimly, staring unerringly at the dog.


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25

Dorian absent mindedly strokes the fur on Mani's back. while surveying the area. His eyes sweep the square again then look back at the Gnoll now staring at Mani. This should be interesting. There's another . . . something up on the roof as well. Someone else is approaching the square too. Well armored from the sound of it. . .I hope this Gnoll doesn't do anything rash. Mani's a little extra anxious tonight.


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3

Now it was the preacher's turn to be confused. He'd never given the social structure of dogs much thought before. He also still hasn't yet noticed the two strix or the elf watching them, wrapped up in the conversation as he is.

"That's...quite interesting. There is a faraway star known as Sirius, also called "The Dog Star", which--"

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

"Er-- Did you happen see something over there, on that rooftop? I can't quite make it out from here."


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

Aviz has a pretty decent stealth check and he's been here a while so he's probably pretty well hidden, but in the spirit of advancement I'll just move things along.

Suddenly a shadow casts out the moonlight and a small gust of wind hits those present. A figure with outstretched black wings touches down, and a fauchard is held up. He's a few inches shorter than the gnoll and has a strong, wiry frame. He has pointed ears, slitted nostrils, pupil-less white eyes, and onyx skin. His white hair is combed back and falls loosely to his shoulder.

As he looks around his entire head moves, as if his eyes are fixed in place in his head, giving him a jittery feel. The humanoid sneers at those present, eyes lingering a second longer on his shaved kin. "Which one of you gave me this note?"


Male Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 1st

The clinking sound of armor is heard walking north into the square. As the figure comes out of the shadow of nearby trees, a tall man in a dark blue cloak can be seen under the moonlight. With exaggerated shoulders, most can surmise the man under the cloak is allow armored. The man looks around at the square, looking from right to left. By his exposed features, he looks to be human.

Jaro quickly studies the people present in the square at such a strange hour.

"Hmm. A bird-man, a gnoll, an older man, an elf and his wolf gather in an empty town square," considers the hooded human. With a sarcastic tone, he adds, "This bodes well."


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

Aviz bares his teeth at bird-man. "Watch your tongue human." Despite his reaction, he's put slightly at ease at the arrival of a paladin. Perhaps not so sinister after all.

I assume it's obvious that Jaro is a paladin. Also, how did you get +3 damage on your longsword attack when one-handing with a strength score of 14?


Male Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 1st
Aviz wrote:

Aviz bares his teeth at bird-man. "Watch your tongue human." Despite his reaction, he's put slightly at ease at the arrival of a paladin. Perhaps not so sinister after all.

I assume it's obvious that Jaro is a paladin. Also, how did you get +3 damage on your longsword attack when one-handing with a strength score of 14?

Only when I use Smite evil ability. And it's not obvious, but you are an astute being.

"Sorry," says the cloaked man, "TWO bird-men." The cloaked figure then approaches the older man and gnoll in the center of the square. "Could help but overhear your screeching, am I too assume, we are all here because we were given a strange envelope by a strange person under strange circumstances?"

As the cloaked man poses the question, he unhooks his cloak, revealing shiny scalemail armor beneath, yet his facial features are still mostly hidden.


The spouts of chatter, echoing lightly across the square, are suddenly interrupted by a loud braying from a wide space between two of the buildings surrounding the town center. A light set of footfalls can be heard from the alleyway, someone or something limping, slowly, across the dirt ground.

Into the pale light steps a cloaked woman, leaning heavily on a crooked walking stick, her grey hair, clouded eyes, and drooping facial features showing the effects of a age upon her. Flanking her on either side are two identical hooded figures, both towering over her in height, identical to the ones that had delivered letters to you earlier today.

Kn (Local) 10:
You recognize the old woman as a local apothecary owner, by the name of Mable. She is a kind, blind woman, who often simply gives things away to those less fortunate than herself.

One leads a donkey hauling a small, covered wagon behind it - the obvious source of the braying. ”Thank you all so much for coming. I hope the night finds you well?” The elder crone laughs slightly. “I have work for you.” She gestures at the cart behind her. “Myself and my friends are members of a… group of like-minded individuals. We are few in number, but strong in ideal. However, while we have been able to hide our symbols and our artifacts in secret for a long time, with this war approaching, and Chelaxian conscription squads and their zealous inquisitors rooting out ‘corruption’, we fear our exposure. However, we cannot just allow our memories, our culture to die.”

She points at all of you, in turn, very slowly before continuing. “That is where you come in. We have a center of meeting, in Varisia; the city of Yida, north of Veldraine. I need you to take this, discreetly, to that town. Now, we don’t have much to pay you with -” She holds up a 6 equally small bags of gold “-But it will be enough to get you on the road, and there will be much more when you arrive.” She nods and coughs, her speech over. The old woman lets herself rest, looking at each of you expectantly, her cloaked friends standing motionless beside her.


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

Aviz whips around with his fauchard held high at the braying noise. As the old woman and two somewhat-familiar hooded figures approach, he lowers his weapon but remains on guard. He gives her a skeptical look. "What do you mean by like-minded individuals?" He asks. He reaches out for one of the bags of gold to count it. "You believe the Chelaxian authorities are going to stop you. Why should we help without knowing what we're getting into? For all we know you're part of a murdering band of thieves. If we agree, what are we taking there, and how will we make contact with who we're delivering it to?" Aviz doesn't like the smell of this whole situation. He doesn't know this woman, he doesn't know these men, and he doesn't know these misfits around him.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9


Male Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 1st

Knowledge (local: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
The cloaked man speaks up. "Please, mad'am. A moment to consider your offer."
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 on what the old lady says.
Jaro closes his eyes and uses detect evil on the three people from the cart, using three rounds on each.


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

As the old woman and company come into view, Dorian and Mani make their way to the rest of the group. He listens intently to the woman then waits quietly as the others deliberate.

This is why I'm here. This is why we're all here. Acavna chose us, even the gnoll who makes me uneasy. They're going to question her, maybe even say they're not going to do it, but they will. It's our destiny.


Jaro:
The woman appears sincere in her speech. None of the people detect as evil.

The old woman bows her head slightly. "All excellent questions. I suppose our organization could be considered... freedom fighters. After a fashion. We disagree with those in power in Cheliax and Nidal, and take efforts to undermine them. Though we follow no specific god, we do find some divine power allows us to continue our endeavors, so we have tenants and follow them as closely as we can."

She steps forward slightly to look Aviz closer in the eye. "Inside the cart is a crate. Inside that crate are contained a few things. Trophies, mostly. A few books of our tenants. Things that are important to us, buried within some silks and spices. We simply wish to preserve our culture, and our ideals, in the face of this war. Isn't that all your people wish for?" She shakes her head. "Our contact is going to wait at the temple of Desna in that city every day until you arrive. Her name is Jeyoré. I have written a call and response that will allow you to recognize each other once you arrive. On the road you will be just another band of traders, mercenaries, whatever. If you keep a low profile, no one will think to look twice at you. I'm sure that some of you are very experienced in going unnoticed," She looks pointedly at Choraak.


Male Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 1st

After a few moments, the cloaked man says, "Well, I cannot speak for the others here. But, as for me, I shall escort your 'silk and spices' to their destination." "When I return to Cheliax, I would wish to contact you, so we may talk about your 'organization' more fully."


Male Strix

knowledge(local): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

See! This is why it's always good to have a bard in the party!

Choraak approaches the woman, "not well enough apparently if you and several others spotted what I am. Of course, that one," he points at Aviz, "makes no attempt to hide his self, so maybe this town is different from many others."

He glances at the others, and then back to the woman, "war may be coming to these lands, but war has ravaged you lowlanders before, and it passes right by we who live amongst the clouds. What matters your war, or your culture, or you woman, to me? I came for trade, for my people, not to save yours."


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

"Is anything we're carrying dangerous?" Aziv asks. He sneers at the mention of him not being stealthy. I'm the only one in this whole group that was quiet coming in here. Fool.


"Thank you, sir knight. It is pleasing to know that you will help. And of course, we can discuss our... Goals with you.

The woman who none of you have ever seen or heard of before shakes her head and her expression hardens. "Make no mistake, hatchling. War is coming to us all. One way or another, we will all have to fight. Those closest to the noble houses know how real and how dangerous this is." She sighs after a moment. "Along with the gold for your trouble, which will be no insignificant amount, we will also give you contacts. We cannot give you men, and I doubt that you would take them even if offered, but we can outfit your fighters with better weapons and armor - armor crafted specifically for your kind, magicks that can stop even the strongest blade. You will need it when the dark fires and bloody spears come to your lands."

Turning to Aviz, she shakes her head. "Only the so-called 'dangerous ideas' as Cheliax's leaders would call them. There is a blade or two, but nothing will get up and bite you.". She glances down at the sharp tip of the fauchard in the winged man's hands. "Nothing you haven't seen before, I'm sure."


Male Gnoll Ranger (Trapper/Warden) 1 (HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 T:11 FF:16 | F: 5 R: 3 W: 2 | Init +1 Per +7)

Wait, the old man isn't the contact? Falstaff boggles slightly, eyeing both the old woman and the old man beside him.

K(Local): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Well, never mind that. She mentioned a temple of Desna! This is a sign. And I've never been to Varisia before, so that makes two signs! Excellent. Falstaff grins happily, satisfied with the lot Desna has bestowed upon him.

"The journey will be payment enough," Falstaff says with an awkward bow. "Anything beyond that is unnecessary."

Falstaff's been taught by someone who understands many complex social situations. That does not mean he understands them himself. Feel free to take offence.


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

Aviz wasn't entirely sold on the war idea, but the job seemed to be good paying for low risk. "As long as there's nothing alive, or chemically or magically dangerous. Sharp blades I can deal with."

He raises his brows at better equipment. "Are we being outfitted now or after the goods are delivered?"


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

Dorian stares up at the moon for a moment then closes his eyes for a moment as if focusing on something at a great distance.

Know Local: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

After a moment he looks at the woman,

"Acavna tells me you are a kind, generous woman. I care not about your trophies and trinkets, but we have a common goal. I will help deliver your silk and spices, Mable."


She nods to Falstaff and Dorian. "Good. I am happy to have you both on board. However, we would be remiss to not repay for services due. We believe in rewarding those that help the cause."

Turning back to Aviz, she simply states, "Payment upon delivery. But we will get it done once our agent informs us that the mission was completed successfully."


Male Strix

"I am no altruist, you should have mentioned payment up front. And we should not try to tarnish the honor of that one," he points at the gnoll, and then the elf, "or that one, by insisting they accept your payment. I am none too proud, and my people none too rich. I will see their refused shares well-spent to feed my people, and clothe them. We highfolk have realized long ago that honor keeps us neither warm, nor fed, but perhaps it is different for those of their sort," again he gestures at the same two.


Mabel raises her hands. "That is their choice. If they choose for you to have the money, then so be it. I have prepared a small collection of 100 gold for each of you now, to be supplemented by another 900 each once you reach the city and make the delivery."


Male Strix

"The deal is struck then! Wait, so 100 and 900? How many is that? And then add in his and the elf's shares," he points again. He nods to his two new benefactors, "the aeries of my people will echo with songs of your generosity. Remind me before we part ways to give each of you a talisman of safe passage through our lands to honor your gifts."


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3
Aviz wrote:
Aviz has a pretty decent stealth check and he's been here a while so he's probably pretty well hidden, but in the spirit of advancement I'll just move things along.

Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to include more of us in the same conversation.

While the negotiations were ongoing, Marcaius was deliberating internally about what to do. Anyone who cares to listen would hear the following mutterings from the back of the group:

"--no, no, they could be some of them, they'll try to get me...but is it a sign? What if it is...? 'She shall be found in the West, and you shall know her not, but trust her you shall, for the way is long and treacherous'...2x3/2=3+3=6, and six are we...but I was going to go south, not north...I could use a new blanket...so many new omens, I need more time..."

He stops massaging his temples and looks up at the group.

"...I'm sorry, did we already agree? I wasn't listening."


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

Dorian walks up to Mabel. "Thank you Mabel for your generosity. This coin will be spent well." He gives a subtle bow and accepts one of the pouches she's handing out.

As he walks back to the outer edge of the group, he stops next to Choraak, the shadow of Dorian blocking the moonlight from reaching Choraak. He speaks calmly in a voice just above a whisper, yet there is strength in his voice, and for the first time since stepping into the square, Mani takes his eyes off of Falstaff and shifts them to Choraak.

"Don't take my generosity for weakness, or my affinity for nature as naivety. It's true that trinkets and trophies don't mean much to me, but that doesn't mean that I do not accept my share of her investment in us. This coin can buy armor and weapons better than I can make. We'll need all the help we can get if we are to fight the death and destruction heading our way. I understand that you want to help your people, as I want to protect mine, but if we don't gather the tools to fight the darkness headed our way, neither of us will have people to help or protect. . . by the way, name's Dorian. Dorian Farahan. And this is Mani."

He offers his hand to Choraak.


Male Gnoll Ranger (Trapper/Warden) 1 (HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 T:11 FF:16 | F: 5 R: 3 W: 2 | Init +1 Per +7)

Falsfaff chuckles lightly at Dorian's words.

"Dorian has captured my sentiments admirably. My name is Falstaff." Falstaff notably does not extend his paw.

I doubt any would Take it anyway.


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3

"I'm Marcaius," the priest says with a little wave hello, still trying to get up to speed. He seems a bit more lucid than a moment ago.

"Did you say that you were going to confront some sort of coming destruction? That just so happens to be what I'm traveling to see firsthand. If you know where it is, I would be grateful if I could follow you all to it. I'll even help deliver your things on the way, if you'd like. And a donation to my preaching circuit would be put to good use."


Male Strix

Choraak takes the offered hand and shakes it briefly. He looks Dorian in the eyes, "Choraak is me, and pleasure it is to meet all, especially Dorian and Falstaff, now that you have shed your cloaks of honor and revealed yourselves to be as mercenary as the rest of us. Even moreso possibly," he finishes gesturing to the bag of coin Dorian was quick to accept following his unmasking.


Male Gnoll Ranger (Trapper/Warden) 1 (HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 T:11 FF:16 | F: 5 R: 3 W: 2 | Init +1 Per +7)

"War is a practical endeavour. The people who wage it, even more so." Falstaff opined realistically.
"Just because the completion of the task is payment enough does not negate payment. It just provides...extra incentive."


Male Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 1st

"And I'm Jaro Vasilis, since we are doing introductions now. And Mabel, I'm no "knight". My aspirations are more higher than follow some Golarion king. Good to meet you all."


"Apologies, Mr. Vasilis. Well, then..." Mable says softly, glancing around at each of you. "If we are all in agreement, I am happy you are all willing to help. I trust that you will perform this task to the best of your ability, as it is an obviously extremely important matter to us." She performs another small bow, as much as she can while already being curled over. "I would request that you leave within the next couple of days, but if you need time to prepare yourselves for the journey, I would understand. Hershel here," She pats the donkey on its head gently, "will be waiting for you in the town stables whenever you are ready to depart." She sighs deeply, seeming as though she had gained a large amount of weight on her shoulders. "As for me, it is far past my bed time, so I must be going. Thank you. Your help does not go unappreciated." She nods to her two cloaked friends, and begins to walk back into the alleyway.

So, unless you have more questions for her, she's heading out.

Loot:
-100 gp Each
-An Adult Donkey (Hershel)
-1 Covered Cart
-Assorted Herbs, Spices, contraband, and Silks in a simple chest


Male Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 1st

"It appears that time is of the essence in this matter. I have water and rations to last me a week before I need to restock." Looking to new travel companions, "I am prepared to leave now. What say you?" Jaro looks to the others for their opinions.


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

"I am prepared to leave now as well. I think it might be best not to linger."

When Mabel is out of sight, Dorian will cast Detect Magic directed toward the cart full of goods.


Male Strix Fighter 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 17 | T 13 | FF 14 | CMD 17 (+2 vs trip/disarm/dirty trick/reposition/steal) | Fort +4 | Ref +4 | Will +1 | Init +4 | Perc +7

"I am prepared as well." He has a question halfway out of his mouth when Dorian starts checking out the cart. Aviz raises his brows and nods in approval.


Detect Magic:
Four small objects radiate magic:
1: Moderate Divination and Enchantment
2: Moderate Evocation
3: Faint Transmutation
4: Faint Conjuration


Male Mordant Spire Elf Mooncaller Druid 1 [HP:10/10] [AC:17 T:13 F:14] [ Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +5] [Init:+3, Percep:+9]

DM:
Where in the cart are the auras coming from? Are they centrally located? Spread out? Centered in the cart?


Male Middle-Aged Human (Azlanti) Cleric of Groetus 1 | HP 11/11 {effects: Fatigued} | AC 13 Tch 8 FF 13 {effects: Fatigued}| F +4, R -2, W +5 | Init -1 | Perc +3

"Sure, if you all are in a rush." He pats Hershel companionably on the snout.


Detect Magic/Dorian:
The auras seem to be clumped together in the center of the cart - they overlap quite a bit, but with a bit of studying you can make out which aura is which.

Hershel snorts amiably, his light grey fur slightly rough and plush to the touch.

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