Zinou's Dalsine Affair (#2-21) (Inactive)

Game Master Zinou

It begins as a rumor, a fairy tale. In the ghettos of an unforgiving city, a child of an ethnic minority—unpopular even in his homeland—hears tales of a city without judgment. In the glow of a burning palace, a disgraced noble begs his advisers for a place to disappear.
In the dank mud of the forest, hiding from the guard’s hounds, thieves whisper of a city without laws, without sanctions or pursuit.
This is always the way.
They come, alone or in caravans, to the foot of the great cliff and stare up at the city walls above, eight stories tall and broken by a thousand doors and windows. They pass through the gateless tangle of beggars and schemers and emerge into a city of contrasts: perpetual twilight inside
its hollow, sheltering walls, the endless noise of crowds and hawkers at its center. They enter—the pilgrims and refugees, fugitives and opportunists—and are seen, and
are just as quickly forgotten. As one, they are enveloped and disappear, vanishing into the patchwork populace and melding with it—just a few more faces in a city that long since quit noticing them.
A city of outcasts. A city of strangers.
Welcome to Kaer Maga.

The first thing a traveler to Kaer Maga sees is the cliff. Towering 3,000 feet high in places and never dipping below a thousand, carved with the faces and forms of vanished kings and gods the Storval Rise neatly bisects the frontier land of Varisia along a massive tectonic fault line, separating the lush lowlands of the coast from the arid and pitiless badlands of the Storval Plateau. Stark and forbidding, these rocky bluffs are unclimbable by all but the most daring, leading those who seek passage out of the civilized lands to ascend carefully along the edge of the Yondabakari River, which cuts a channel through the stone, or else to turn north and head straight for Kaer Maga itself, hoping to brave the legendary Half light Path.

From a distance, Kaer Maga appears to be an enormous outcropping of gleaming, white stone extending straight up from the cliff ’s edge, its 80-foot-high walls forming a seamless, six-sided ring and its squared-off skyline broken only by a cluster of towers and minarets at the south end. Upon closer inspection, however, the great walls are revealed to be riddled with holes at every level, doors and windows carved by its residents. From these random entrances hang knotted ropes and ladders, cargo nets and winch-operated dumbwaiters, which residents use to come and go without a second thought—even children swing stories above the ground and scamper carelessly across makeshift landings. While several gated entrances at ground level are big enough for carts to pass through unhindered, most newcomers enter through a vast break in the walls where some unknown force shattered the stone in ages past. And within this breach, generations of Kaer Maga’s poorest residents have made their homes in the most literal sense. A high rise of wooden scaffolding and temporary structures towers almost as tall as the walls themselves, shack on top of shanty in a hodgepodge of scaffolding and scrap lumber its interior a maze known only to its inhabitants who live arborealy on planks and nets in a shantytown of vast proportions. This is the Warren.

You arrive as a group in the city and the adventure will begin as you drink a pint in an inn. Just dot in and make yourself comfortable in the inn. Roger, the innkeep, has a french accent and comes towards you with a bright smile.

The innkeep, a stout man in his forties with an impressive black beard, comes towards you as soon as you settled at a table. The inn, named "The Traveler's Inn", is all you can expect of it: dirty, crowded, smelly but above all welcoming.

The innkeep speaks to you with a loud voice:
"Voilà, voilà! Qu'est-ce que j'vous sers? La pince?" and bursts out laughing as he clearly didn't expect you to understand his dialect.

"What d'ya wanna drink, lot?" he eventually says in a broken common.

ʕง•ᴥ•ʔง

"Absolutely beautiful." The redheaded human known as Jiggo Maelerant mumbles as the caravan moves past the walls.

At the inn, Jiggo shines his new symbol of Erastil. "Hello barkeep! I'll just take a mug of water right now. I have so much to see in this city, so much to do!"

The innkeep raises an bushy eyebrow in disbelief.

"Er... You meant pale ale, right?"

"I will have a dram of whiskey, and a mug of spiced mead... the smell of the Warren had attached itself to my taste buds and I need to annihilate their blister immediately!"

The innkeep raises an bushy eyebrow in disbelief.

"Er... You meant pale ale, right?"

"Hey Callan... how much alcohol is in Pale Ale?" Jiggo quickly whispers to Callan.

Hasshin walks into the room and sees his friends "callan, jiggo how have you been.

"HAHA with great pleasure! I believe you're a connoisseur!" says the innkeep loudly to Callan. He'll serve you what you order, even if he's reluctant about serving water in his inn.

A dwarf with an intense gaze enters the room and looks the other Pathfinders over.

He carries a fine dwarven longhammer and bears medium armor with a dwarven boulder helm, as well as the holy symbol of the obscure dwarven deity Dranngvit around his neck.

"Io Hammerhand," he tells the barkeep, "at yer service."

"I'll 'ave yer finest dwarven ale--no other race makes it like the dwarves!--but ye'll do me a favor an' nae bring me a second mug. Me drunken dwarven paladin brother's made me recognize temperance as a virtue..." he adds.

"Sweet Calistria, Jiggo, I beg to differ," Amarandlon mutters as the group passes the walls. "Although it is certainly...impressive."

The elf shutters as he makes his way into the Warren. "So many...creatures...pawing, touching, filthy little vermin. Hey! You! Hands off!" he snaps, stepping around one particularly filthy, leering beggar. In the inn the elf seems to relax slightly. "A mug of spiced wine, please. Kyonian, if you have it, sir."

The barkeep looks at both dwarf and elf and bursts out laughing.

"Of course, I do have this! This is the City of Strangers! The city where nobody comes from! The city from which everybody belongs!"

When he comes back with your beverages, he shows a crooked smile as you toast and begin to drink. He comes eventually closer and says with a grim but serious face, shifting completely his face expression.

"You finally made it! We were waiting for you."

He shows you a wayfinder he wears at his neck but which was concealed under his cloths.
A drunkard hits the innkeeper in the back and shouts something you don't quite understand. The man turns quickly, laughing but concealing the compass, and slaps the man on the shoulder as if they were old friends. Eventually, the drunkard finishes his glass and makes his way out.

By the time you finish your drink, the tavern is even more crowded than it was before. Suddenly, as you chat, you notice that the innkeeper sat at your table. When he's sure you noticed him, he stands up and silently waves you to follow him in the backroom.

Amarandlon blinks, surprised, when the innkeeper reveals himself. Nethys' right hand...he must be a field agent. Well, this has gotten interesting. When the huge man beckons them toward the back room, the elf turns to his companions and clears his throat. "I think it's time that we...er...discussed that...business transaction, yes?"

Bluff to pass a secret message (DC 15): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7

"You know...the one with the...er...rocks? And the...string...oh, confound it. I'm going to go to the back room now. You should follow."

He leans in and, just to make sure everyone's got it, whispers "I think he's a Pathfinder!"

Amarandlon: good at spells, not so good at social subtlety. :P

Hasshin looks at his companions "well lookss asss the pleassantriesss are over time to get to work" hasshin gets up and makes his was to the backroom as discreetly as he can

Io watches the man intensely, unsure whether to trust him. In the end, he sees no alternative and follows the others.

Jiggo is almost finished drinking his "water" (or whatever the barkeep presented him) as the Innkeeper motions to the back. "It's gotten loud around here."

Bluff (to pass secret message): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

"Ah, yes, Amarandlon. I will follow you."

Callan throws the whiskey to the back of his throat. He closes his eyes and slowly lets the heat cascade down into his stomach where the warm feeling spreads throughout his body. He is momentarily taken back to his fist drink at the age of 9. The gladiators he was tasked with serving thought it would be fun to deceive the young stable keep into imbibing. At the end of a rather eventful adventure, the young Callen evacuated his stomach all over the stable Lanista's bedroll. That little incident cost him 10 weeks of additional chores... and 20 lashes.

"Let us go, then. And see the man, about.. the.. horse." the barbarian mutters, coming back to the here and now.

When you arrive in the backroom, the atmosphere is heavy and the smell of smoke fills the air. The room in which you arrive is not very well lit and you think that's on purpose.
As soon as you get there, the barkeep is sit at a table that... isn't quite a table but seems more like a whisky barrel. The man smiles but his voice is once again low.

"My name is Roger, pathfinders. Who sent you? Marcos Farabellus? He was my favorite instructor! Nevermind, we don't have time. Are you here to end the troubles with this so-called pathfinder lodge in Kaer Maga? Anyway, you should have been more discreet when you arrived in the city!"

Amarandlon bows. "Well-met, Roger. Delighted to make the acquaintance of one who is clearly an accomplished Field Agent. I am Amarandlon, and mys ser--um, companions are Callan, Jiggo, Hasshin, and...Io." The elf points them out one by one, albeit rather dourly. "I apologize for not being more discreet, but we were sent to meet with you...we know few of the details of what are plaguing your lodge. Pray, inform us!"

The elf pulls a small chair up to the whiskey barrel and sits at it primly, tenting his fingers like a professional counselor.

"Errr, wait. Are Pathfinders not liked here? That's a real shame." Jiggo ponders. "This is such a beautiful city. I wanted to take a look after we finished here, but if it's too dangerous...Hmm."

Roger nods at each one of you when Amarandlon presents the party. After Jiggo speaks, he has a confused look on his face.

"No... not at all! Wait... you weren't sent for this mission? Damn, I knew I had to listen more carefully! What are you here for?"

Seeing your blank faces, he sighs heavily and leans back in dispair.

"You're not the pathfinders I'm looking for!"

He downs the pint before him. And thinks a moment. He eventually shrugs and declares "Well, nevermind. It might be another team. Hope they're not lost in the way! I have work for you, though. The temple of Pharasma is having... troubles these last few days. I know nothing more about this but I suggest you head towards the temple as soon as possible to see if there's anything you can do to help."

Sorry, it was quite of a long introduction but in the module, the PCs are like teleported without any sense in the temple to begin the adventure... That's why I added a bit of fluff. :)

"To the temple, then..."

-Posted with Wayfinder

After hearing the indications Roger gave you, Callan leads the way up the gravel path to the top of Kaer Maga's only hill. The climb is not a long one, but it is somewhat steep, and your breath comes a little faster from the labor once you reach the top. The path levels out and before you, perched on the cliff's edge just above the gigantic face that leads into the ossuary, is the Godsmouth Cathedral.

From what you can see, the Godsmouth Cathedral consists of a central nave surrounded by three separate wings. The cathedral's walls are of black granite, supported by flying buttresses, and rise 100 feet to the church's slate-shingled roof. A bell tower above each wing climbs 50 feet higher than the main structure.

The gravel path leads you among a small grove of rowan trees and if you look, you can see nesting birds among the branches of those majestic trees.

A trio of acolytes are tending the bushes and vines growing around the walls at the end of the gravel path. They see you approach and one walks past the two guards standing at a triple portal providing entry into the cathedral, disappearing inside. The other two acolytes put down their shears and water cans, and walk out to meet you beneath the rowan trees.

"Welcome travelers." says one of the acolytes, a young man of no more than 16 years. "I am Asa and this is my fellow acolyte, Brianne. We are your servants. In the name of the Lady of Graves, we welcome you to the Godsmouth Cathedral. What is your purpose here?"

As they walk up Hasshin stops for a moment to take in the grandeur "My my my, That iss impresssive"
and he continues up the steps

NP, better the have a realistic way to the AP then POOF! lol

I agree. Enjoyed the opening!

Amarandlon sniffs. "It certainly is...large. Though rather unpleasant in my opinion. So symmetrical. I've never understood the fascination you worldly lot have with the goddess of death. Jiggo, is there aught you can tell us about this pile?"

When the acolytes approach, Amarandlon smiles indulgently.

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6

"Well, now, isn't this adorable! They've let these children participate in your religious services, as though they understood the cosmos!" Turning back to Asa, he speaks in an exaggerated, over-enunciated way, as one might to a toddler, or someone with a mental disability. "We're some nice people who heard you had trouble! Yes, trouble! Right here in Dead Human City! We came to help, because we're so nice! Is there someone you can take us to? An adult? Your mommy or daddy perhaps?"

Someone, anyone, please intervene. XD

You're killing me Amarandlon! I was on the edge to burst out laughing in the library, I succeeded barely to maintain my composure... I'm waiting for an intervention from someone in the group, though.

Roger nods at each one of you when Amarandlon presents the party. After Jiggo speaks, he has a confused look on his face.

"No... not at all! Wait... you weren't sent for this mission? Damn, I knew I had to listen more carefully! What are you here for?"

Seeing your blank faces, he sighs heavily and leans back in dispair.

"You're not the pathfinders I'm looking for!"

He downs the pint before him. And thinks a moment. He eventually shrugs and declares "Well, nevermind. It might be another team. Hope they're not lost in the way! I have work for you, though. The temple of Pharasma is having... troubles these last few days. I know nothing more about this but I suggest you head towards the temple as soon as possible to see if there's anything you can do to help."

"Oh! It's alright sir. Hopefully the correct team will arrive. In the meantime however, we'll check on this temple and see if it's alright. Thank you for the water, although it tastes a little funny..." Jiggo hiccups as he leaves.

Knowledge(Religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Jiggo is furiously scribbling into his notes as they approach.
"Lady of Graves - the midwife, the reaper of the dead, and the mad prophet. This cathedral is dedicated to all of three of Pharasma. Oh wow, look at that mural!" Jiggo makes a rough sketch of it. [ooc]Jiggo would wear a hawaiian shirt with a polariod camera at this point.

Knowledge(Religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
"Now THOSE," Jiggo points at the cathedral's bells, "Are rung for different occasions: birth, death, and prophecies. The dusty bell is the one of prophecy, and hasn't been rung since Aroden's passing..."

Dipliomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
Jiggo laughs and pats the elf on the back, gently. "Asa, Brianne. Good to meet you. My name is Jiggo, and Amarandlon here is practicing a comedy routine. Bad timing, my friend: we're on a mission. Hasshin and Callan, all of us are Pathfinders. We've been told we can help YOU." Jiggo puts down his Camera notebook and smiles.

Nice rolls, Jiggo! Just what the group needed :)

The acolytes smile and return the bows of greeting, ignoring Amarandlon's intervention. Asa nods to Brianne, who leaves you. Asa speaks up: "Brianne will fetch the Cryptmistress. We were told to be watchful for...adventurers coming to the cathedral today."
Minutes later, Brianne comes back along with a lady dressed in black. They emerge from the cathedral doors and walk down the gravel path to where you wait. The lady's approach is unhurried and she carries herself with confidence. Her face is hooded but her arms are by her side and she carries no visible weapon. As she approaches your group, she removes her hood revealing a pale face framed by dark hair and accentuated by dark lips and eyes. She inclines her head slightly to you and says in a voice smooth and velvety “I am Valanthe Nerissia. I believe you have responded to the church's call for assistance, haven't you?”

After pleasantries are exchanged, Valanthe sends the acolytes ahead, and then she leads you down the gravel path, through the now open doors, and into the cathedral's nave. Large iron candelabras hang from the ceiling and illuminate the central approach to the high altar. A plush purple carpet runs down the center aisle of the cathedral, flanked by rows of wooden pews.
"Let us talk in here." Valanthe proposes, indicating a small chapel off to the right. She leads you inside the chapel and beckons each of you to sit in one of the pews therein. The pews face an alabaster statue surrounded by lit candles.
"This chapel is dedicated to St. Feodric, a crusader of the faith. He was martyred in an unsuccessful attempt to slay the Harlot Queen Arazni." says Valanthe.
The acolytes come back to serve drinks and food and quickly leave afterwards.

When she sees the look of expectation on your faces, she says "I won't keep you in suspense as to why you are here. I trust you have been chosen by your superiors or led here by faith, meaning what I am about to tell you is for your ears only. For generations, Kaer Maga's wealthy and powerful have been laid to rest in the Godsmouth Ossuary, and thus far, their rest seemed to be peaceful. The ossuary has existed for thousands of years, long before the founding of the city itself. There seems to be no limit to the number of bodies that can be stored here and yet..."
Valanthe pauses and places her fingertips against her lips and looks over them at you.
"Bodies are missing from the Godsmouth Ossuary. You may or may not know that the ossuary is forbidden to all but the clergy and honored dead. Even mourners are restricted to the ossuary's entrance or the cathedral. Not even the Duskwardens, the famed guides who safely lead visitors through the Undercity via the Halflight Path, are allowed to enter the sacred vaults.
"But now...there have been increased reports of undead deep in the crypts and this has led us to believe that the source of the problem lies in the sealed levels below the main crypts. A heresy has taken root in the Godsmouth Ossuary...and must be stopped!"

Visibly shaken by her own revelation, Valanthe sips some of the cold spring water she has in her glass before continuing. "The church is prepared to offer a reward of 500 gold for your success in stopping... whatever is behind the disappearing bodies, and an additional reward of 500 gold for clearing the level of all other monsters or threats. You may keep, of course, any valuables you find in the sealed crypts, except for obvious Pharasmin relics or treasures - those we ask you return to us.
"Again, this is for your ears only. The need for secrecy is absolute. The church can make life in Kaer Maga... very difficult for any who would wag their tongues too much."

Valanthe takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she releases it, and then opens her eyes and says "I know you must have questions. Ask them please, and I will do my best to answer."

"Damnation," Amarandlon murmurs as he sips his glass of wine. "Undead, again. Had I known we would be visiting one of your human boneyards, I would have arrayed my arcane powers accordingly. How urgent is this...cleansing? Could it wait, perhaps, until tomorrow morning?"

If we go in we go in, but I'll probably be a lot more useful with disrupt undead prepared.

The elf smiles after Valanthe answers his question, and leans forward. "You're in luck, Cryptmistress. I am something of an expert in magical devices and their potent effects upon the natural world. Indeed, my first mission for...our employers...was to investigate a vanished archaeologist who, it was discovered, had unearthed a necromantic artifact of some power that was being manipulated by a cult of Zyphus to generate undead. I slew the high priest of the cult, and we disabled the stone quite successfully. This is probably why I was sent here. To that end, let me ask: who has been buried in the Ossuary recently? Have any objects been placed in it that have not been screened for necromantic energies by your priests and wizards? Do you have any leading theories as to what the source of the disruption might be: an artifact, a malignant being, et cetera?"

"A shame. Who would be sick enough to disturb people from their final rest?" Jiggo is disgusted. "We'll do everything we can to return them to where they came."

He nods at Amarandlon. "Some preparation may make this easier, unless you think there is immediate urgency. Nonetheless, we will everything we can to stop this."

"Maybe we should purchase some holy water or other aids against the undead before we decend."

The Cryptmistress shakes her head in grief but eventually nods.

"Yes, you can rest. It is late now. However, you must depart early tomorrow morning. Asa and Brianne shall see to find you some rooms. Also they shall give you... supplies to fight the undead."

That said, she shivers and takes her leave, bowing.

Asa and Brianne show you your rooms for the night. They also provide you with 2d4 ⇒ (3, 3) = 6 flasks of Holy water. for free

I forgot to tell you but it is late in the evening. The meeting takes place at... midnight. :)

"Huh. Good point!"

Jiggo seeks out two flasks of holy water. (50 gp total)

We got 6 flasks for free (that's one per I think), and its midnight... Not sure we're going to find an adventurer's 7-11 in this town! ;)

-Posted with Wayfinder

Amarandlon smiles and bows to the Cryptmistress. "Thank you, lady. This, combined with my spells, should prove most effective at battling whatever undead menace lurks in your tomb."

Unless, the others wish to consult, Amarandlon retires to his chamber early, spending an hour poring over the scroll he purchased off Janira Gavix. I have heard of abjurations such as these...let us see now, if the cortical flux is manipulated by sub-magellar directional streams...

I'm also assuming there's no shopping we can do, but Amarandlon will spend an hour trying to copy the scroll of mage armor into his spellbook. I don't know if that's something you can take 10 on. If you can, he will, but I think a roll is required.

Spellcraft DC 16: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Oh come on. :P

I see, I see...but how does one get the void field to PERSIST for such long periods of time?! The field is inherently unstable. Maybe if we...no, that doesn't work either...

@Ama: yes, you can take 10, but not 20 ;)

Asa and Brianne come very early to wake you up. Remembering the events of the night before, you have a bitter taste in your mouth regarding the mission that awaits you. The acolytes provide you with a meager breakfast and give you each a potion of Cure Light Wounds.

The hour passes too quickly for some of you, too slowly for others, and as the bell tolls in the tower of the sanctuary of death, Valanthe comes to find you. She is dressed in fresh robes of the deepest black and wears a pearl-handled dagger tucked through the sash around her waist. "This way please" she says, leading you out of the cathedral to the edge of the great chasm overlooking the lands of Varisia below. "Watch your step" she cautions as she leads you down the narrow, twisting cliffside path that passes directly into the mouth of the massive carved face known as the Unnamed King.

As you enter the ossuary proper, you see that it is well lit with everburning torches, richly decorated, and amazingly clean. Several Pharasmin priests, robed and hooded, silently tend to the deceased.
Valanthe leads you through luxuriously appointed catacombs packed with bodies wrapped in the finest linens and reverently placed in countless stone niches lining the walls. You descend several stairways before coming to an area that obviously sees little use – most of the burial niches are empty and dusty, the air is musty and close, and silence reigns supreme.

In this unused portion of the crypts, Valanthe stops before a wooden door, bound with steel bands. "This is the only known entrance to the sealed lower portions of the ossuary. Once you enter, the door will be locked behind you."
This causes you some amount of concern, but Valanthe quickly continues. Pulling a hollow mithral tube about a foot long from her sleeve, she says, "This is a chime of opening. It has five uses and will get you through the Pharasmin seals below. However, you must save one use to get back through this door when you are ready to leave." She points at the door as she says this.
"The priests will not open the door for you. They have no way of seeing through the locked door to recognize you or determine whether something... else is trying to get through. If you lose the chime or use up its magic, you must find your own way out of the ossuary."

Valanthe then goes to each one of you and touches you lightly on the left side of your face as she whispers, "The Lady of Graves bless and keep you safe." She then draws a large iron key from beneath her robes and inserts it into the door. She turns the key and the lock clicks loudly in the silence.

The door grinds open despite long years of disuse. Within, a stone spiral staircase descends into the earth...

Valanthe takes a deep breath and genuinely smiles at you and bows her head. "Again, I wish you safe travels. And will see you when you return." Then she steps back and says, "I will close and lock the door behind you. Good luck."

The Godsmouth Heresy has officially begun!

I need a few things from each of you:
• When you post, please include any ability or skill checks you want to make – I could make some for you, but I’d rather you control your character as much as possible while he/she's still alive...er...ignore that last comment. :D
• Matching the previous comment, please be proactive when you post. Try to move things up, even anticipating any skill checks you may have to do.

From your group I need to know:
• Marching order – which I will use throughout the adventure unless you wish to change it.
• Opening door procedures – who stands where, what are they doing, etc.
• Who is carrying the chime of opening?

I think that’s about it. Please be as specific and thorough as possible when posting actions. Are you ready? Let’s do this!

Zinou, thanks for all the extras you give us...the RP and details are very well done, and it is much appreciated!

Io glares at the portal ahead.

"You're sayin' 'at if we go in thar, we might be trapped wit' undeid an' cannae get out? Whit kind o' suicide mission is this?" the dwarf asks grumpily.

Still, the dwarf doesn't seem about to turn back. His animal companion, a young roc named Kradvid, hops alongside him. The dwarf removes a freshly killed rabbit from a bag and throws it on the ground, which the bird promptly devours.

"Aam sure our wizard friend'll want tae hold th' chime," he says with a gesture at Amarandlon.

For marching order, we should probably have Callin and Hasshin front row. I'm a good 2nd line guy since I have a reach weapon and a flying companion. We can either have Jiggo or Amarandlong on the 2nd line with me and the other at the rear. As for door opening procedures, I'm not seeing a trap spotter, but I have the highest perception score (+9). I guess each door I'll take 20 on and then have Callan open it once I'm back in line?

Was Jiggo able to buy the extra flasks of holy water?

Jiggo wakes up, makes his morning prayer, gears up and gets ready.

He eats the breakfast and thanks the acolytes. "Asa. Brianne. Great work! You make the Lady of the Dawn proud. And my stomach, too! Haha!"

Jiggo listens to Valanthe's instructions carefully. "Looks like we need to keep this chime of opening intact for as long as we can. We'll make sure to eliminate the source of the problem."

Io's plan sounds good to me. Jiggo will back up the rear in case we get ambushed.

"This adventure just keeps getting better and better, well there is glory in death whilst in combat. From those about to die, we salute you!"

i am good with Callan in the lead, did everyone get a CLW wand? I took a skill point in use magic device, but I'm still at -1... So what does that roll look like?

UMD on a wand is DC 20...I don't think you can use yours, Callan. It will still be a great help when you're the only wand owner in the scenario!

Well if I can take 10 legally I'll definitely do that--then he copies mage armor into his spellbook! :)

Wait...wait...I see! Of course, it's so simple! I can't believe I didn't see this before! Amarandlon suddenly starts scribbling frantically into the small book he carries with him everywhere, frantically marking down calculations and occasionally sketching quick diagrams for himself. Yes, yes...this will do nicely!

The next morning, Amarandlon rises from his repose early and reviews his spells. The basic summoning of positive energy to damage undead, of course...and basic telekinesis is always useful, as is magic vision. Sadly most of my enchantments will be useless against the undead...

Today's spells have been selected and are listed in my profile.

Amarandlon stays uncharacteristically silent, apparently focused and meditative, during breakfast and on the trek down to the ossuary itself. He seems unfazed by the dead all around, although he stirs uneasily when Valanthe mentions the door being locked behind them. He accepts the chime from Io with a nod, though.

"I will be pleased to retain this," he says quietly, tucking it into his belt pouch carefully. "And I shall be very careful in its usage." He then draws a scroll out of his leather scroll case, tucking it under his arm and twitching his fingers nervously.

I agree that it's probably best for me to be 2nd-line, since I'm the most fragile. Happy to hold on to the chime, and Callan, Amarandlon has a UMD of +7, if you want me to hold onto the wand. Amarandlon will keep his scroll of mage armor handy as the group enters the ossuary, in case anything jumps out at them.

I'll just wait on Hasshin to confirm the decisions, but we'll go this way using Io's take 20 on each door (for a 29), which seems a good way to not make us waiting on various checks.

Callan will gladly hand over his CLW wand to whomever in the 2nd or 3d rank will use it on him (and anyone in need for that matter) as needed.

I have a wand of CLW, and can also use them without problem. I'm happy to hold them. If you want to just roll your own healing rolls out of combat, just assume you asked Io and used your wand on you.

Ok just got home i was so sleepy...i meant to only sleep for 30 mins and i woke up 5 hours later....ya im going to buy a wand CLW its 2pp right? and i am good with the order

A wand of CLW costs 2 pp (or 750 gp)

Callan checks his gear and his weapons and nods to the group, ready to decend into the unknown...

Amarandlon takes a deep breath, checking that he has everything in order. He nervously fiddles with a wand stuck into his belt.

I'll assume Amarandlon casts Dancing Lights when you go down.

The group begins his descent and when you arrive downstairs, Io and Hasshin spot a dark thing hanging on the ceiling. It's a dark jellyfish-like creature that attacks Callan, visibly angered that you spotted it. However, its slam misses widely the rager.

D vs Hasshin (flatfooted): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Round 1 - Bold may act! - Map in the header
Party
DM

Quarterstaff ready, Jiggo runs into toward the side.

Masterwork Quarterstaff: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Damage, 2H: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

"Well, I set up flanking, at least."