|Paizo Pathfinder® Paizo Games|
|About Paizo Messageboards News Paizo Blog Help/FAQ|
Kurst agreed to the plan, and within a half hour you pass the Trunau gates and are headed towards a hilly area known to contain many caves. Kurst says, "We scour these caves every month or so, not wanting the orcs to get a foothold so near our town. The last one was a few weeks ago, I think. There's plenty of places to hide out around here, that's for sure."
Following Garvey's occasional head nod or point - gagged, it was hard for him to alert any sentries, but it also made his directions a bit garbled - you found a cave entrance. Kurst nodded for a pair of rangers that had accompanied you to check it out. These experienced men cautiously stalked forward, then took stock of the area. One went in, while the other covered him with bow drawn.
After a few minutes, the scouts came back. "No one there boss. Five bedrolls, ashes from an old fire, maybe 2-3 days, and some clothing. Nothing of value, and it doesn't look like anyone's been here for a couple of days. Maybe this one was telling the truth."
AoO: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
j: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
a: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
z: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Jakscar slashed out at his opponent, driving his sword deeply into it and filling the pool with more blood. Angelica's opponent gashes her leg once more, sending the rogue even more off balance. Zaphomil also takes another strike, this one along his side.
Angelica takes 3 damage
Zaphomil takes 2 damage
Everyone is up (I have already moved Zaph, Harbug, and Shabbezz based on their prior posts).
combat hit point status:
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Kelendra's bridge sprang into existence, and the oracle lightly stepped to the top of it, near the edge of the balcony. (10' wide from L12 to F13)
Anklebiter, trying to forestall any intruders from outside, ran to the open door and shut it, plunging the area into darkness, lit only by the dim glow of Kelendra' moonlight bridge.
Lefrik, not having anything to hit, ran back to the foot of the bridge and then around the balcony towards one of the dretches. (I'll use that attack roll next round)
Calla also moved up the bridge, firing off an arrow at the western dretch as she did. The arrow hit, though not cleanly, doing a bit of damage.
Bruendor had much more luck, as he slid up behind the dretch, now covered in webbing, and slammed his rapier home. There was the familiar hesitation of the blade as it met the demon's magical resistance, then the slim blade tore into the creature's organs. The dretch didn't die, but it was badly injured. It still managed to free itself of the sticky webbing, though its swipes at the dwarf were mostly just defensive.
On the other side, one of the spiders' mandibles glowed with golden energy and it bit down hard on the dretch. The creature shrieked in pain as the smite attack pierced its defenses. Its thrashing shredding the last remains of the webbing on it, and it howled for vengeance.
Here's the map
Combat hit point status:
By the time those staying at the Ramblehouse arrived back at the inn, the bodies had been removed, and the cleanup was mostly done. Only a few dark stains on the floor and the glare of the proprietor showed that anything was amiss.
No screams of "murder, foul!" ring out this night, and the Ramblehouse is once again a quiet, but bustling inn in the morning. The food is eggs and pancakes, with rashers of bacon to round it out. An hour after dawn isn't the busiest time of the morning, so you are able to meet without the jammed confusion of the night before.
Kurst showed up soon after all had eaten, hoping to talk to you about last night's events and this day's plans.
"It's not every day we get a group of Freedom Town assassins in Trunau, and especially not a group that was after so many people. That fellow you took prisoner - Garvey, he said his name was - is chattering like a magpie, hoping to keep his neck attached to his head. Nothing he says is of much use in finding his employer, I'm afraid. Did you find anything? I hear you were looking for Frum. Did you find him?"
Everyone walks the streets, looking between buildings and down alleys for the elusive Omast Frum, but there is no sign of him. Very few people are out on the streets after dark, and those few that were said they had not seen the man. A couple of fruitless hours' worth of searching left you tired, frustrated, and a little put out out.
It is now well after dark, and everyone other than those in the Killing Ground or the Ramblehouse are to bed. How would you like to spend your night?
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Lefrik killed the last dretch on the stairs with a superhuman effort, nearly collapsing the broken stairs even more with the force of his blows. Bruendor raced up the stairs, planting his feet with care and launching himself into the air. He landed, skidded slightly on the extremely dusty floor of the balcony, and halted his motion by grabbing the nearest pedestal. The globe on top rocked precariously, and the dwarf quickly steadied it before it could smash on the floor and pour more electricity through him.
The dretch on the other side of the balcony struggled mightily against the webbing holding it to the floor, but was unable to free itself. Unfortunately, the eight legged freaks that Anklebiter had summoned were unable to hurt the dretch any further.
The other spider fought ferociously against the dretch nearest it, but the demon fended it off, and even nicked the spider with a claw.
Anklebiter's spell rang in the last dretch's ears, though the thing simply seemed to shrug off most of the damage. It wasn't able to shrug off the pair of cold iron arrows that Calla slammed into its chest, though. Nor the dagger that Kelendra drove into the demon's neck. The dretch was dead before it completely registered what had happened.
Outside, the sound of the whistle had stopped.
Two more down!
Combat hit point status:
I appreciate all the comments. Like I said before, it's a hobby I enjoy when I have the time to do it. I'm about to start taking some online lessons from some of the pros over at deviantart to try and up my game a little. *crosses toes*
Edit: FYI - running a group of 6 PCs through the Hanging Manse in book 3 gets really tight. My group was tripping all over themselves :D
Angelica 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Zaphomil waded into the murky water and as he made the last step, he wished he had not. The water was just a handsbreadth shallower than his impressive 3'4" height, and it was all he could do to keep his head above the water while walking on his toes. Even his innate ability to skip through the densest terrain was of little help. Everyone was trying so hard not to laugh at the little gnome, that he was the only one to spot the ripples moving towards the group, rather than splashing away as the ripples their motion was causing were doing.
He took a deep breath to shout a warning, but it was too late. Claws raked his legs and the water darkened with his blood. Angelica too felt a pair of clawed hands grabbing at her legs, trying to pull her under. She kept her feet, though her blood joined Zaph's in the pool. Jakscar's armor was all that preserved his legs, and as he leaned away from the attacker, he saw a hideous face with gills, tentacles, and a tripartate mouth leering up at him.
Zaphomil takes 3 damage and must make a DC12 Reflex save to keep his head above water.
Angelica takes 4 damage
Jakscar and Shabbezz are up!
combat hit point status:
Anklebiter the Insane wrote:
AB - I don't think that you could coordinate attacks like that with the spiders since AFAIK you can't speak with vermin. They would attack to the best of their abilities, yes, but not coordinate flanks and such. That statement in the Summon Monster description simply means they will use their abilities to best effect. I find it hard to believe that without direction Int - spiders are better coordinated than some of my int 13 PCs :p The way I see it, S1 would attack the dretch it is in combat with. S2 and S3 would likely attack the same target, but not to the extent of coordinating flanking. If you see it differently, take it to the Discussion channel or PM me
"I don't think Frum had anything to do with that business. He was four sheets to the wind when he came in here this morning. Blathered something about that graffiti and took off. I didn't give him anything but breakfast. You know I hold to the rules. I ain't cleaning the barracks jakes again. Think you're wasting your time. He's prolly holed up somewhere sleeping off his drunk. If that's it, I've got a business to run."
Bruendor acro: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
escape: 1d20 + 5 - 4 ⇒ (14) + 5 - 4 = 15
Calla's arrows slam into Bruendor's foe and the dretch staggered. Bruendor's follow up strike sent the demon to the ground. Lefrik side-stepped his opponent and smashed it down with his axe, beating through the demon's natural defenses with brute force and well-aimed strikes.
Anklebiter finished his spell and a trio of celestial spiders appeared on the balcony above. They spat webbing, gluing a pair of the demon up there to the floor. One managed to evade the sticky strands and stepped foot on Kelendra's bridge, which promptly vanished out from underneath it as she stepped off. It tumbled down to the broken stairs below, landing in a heap at Lefrik's feet.
One of the other dretches struggled in vain against the webbing, while the other slipped out of the strands and leaped from the balcony to press the attack on those still in the foyer.
Meanwhile, from outside there came the sound of a whistle being blown in a specific cadence.
Combat hit point status:
It is full dark by the time you make your way to the Killin' Ground. The only bar in Trunau outside of the Ramblehouse, the Killin' Ground was a great way for the rough settlers of the frontier to kill time. The rotgut served here wasn't aged or flavored. It was there for one reason - to get drunk on. As you made your way inside the place, Yelena kept her eye out for Frum, but she was unable to see him.
The owner of the Killin' ground, Rabus Clarenston, came over towards the group, waving his arms in a negative gesture. "No way, Shuklov. You know the rules. Kurst said you were on a special assignment, and I don't serve 'shine to anyone on duty, or going on duty soon. You know that. Papa Grast made that real clear the last time."
The hook sails across the pool, then bounces its way down the steps as Angelica draws it in. As she pulls it across the murky pool, she guesses that the water is no more than three feet deep or so. Easily wadable for the taller members of the party, though Zaphomil and Shabbezz were going to have to swim if not offered a ride.
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Calla's arrows whiz by Bruendor's head as the dwarf charged one of the dretches. Bruendor slammed his rapier deep into the creature, beside one of Calla's arrows, shoving against the thing's tough rubbery skin. Lefrik drove his axe deep into his enemy, using main strength to counter the demon's otherworldly tough skin. A blessing suffused the party as Kelendra chanted.
From the balcony above, the dretches grabbed what looked like crystal balls from the pedestals and began hurling them down on Bruendor and Lefrik. Both were inundated with arcs of electricity, their muscles twitching and trembling under the onslaught. Both man and dwarf also took some nsaty scrathes from their opponents' claws as the demons took advantage of their momentary distraction.
Bruendor takes 1 electrical damage and must make a DC 11 reflex save or take another 6 electrical damage.
Bruendor also takes 8 claw damage
Lefrik takes 5 electrical damage.
Lefrik also takes 7 claw damage
Combat hit point status:
"Yeah, I heard." He indicated the play he was reading. "Bad business, that. You part of the crew Kurst said he was putting together? Figures you'd set yourself down in the biggest batch of trouble you could find. What d'you want Frum for? Haven't seen him today, but he was chatting about those White Swords with Patrol Captain Grath, Roddy's father, yesterday. He was pissed about how they couldn't be removed, and how they had no clue who could be painting them. I'd guess cleanup had something to do with them, but I don't know for sure. If he's not at the Ramblehouse or The Killin' Ground, I don't know where he could be."
The door is not locked, and Bruendor motioned for Lefrik to open it. The barbarian pushed the door open, axe held ready to attack anything that looked as if it deserved it...or just didn't move out of the way fast enough.
The room beyond was pitch black, with only the light from Anklebiter's staff spilling in through the doorway to illuminate the shadowy interior. There were two floors, joined by a broken staircase. On the balcony area is a set of short pillars, displaying some kind of crystalline objects, and obscuring what lay beyond. The ground floor had bookshelves all along the walls.
Forms lurk in the darkness that set up a raucous cacophony as the doors open.
anklebiter 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Everyone is up!
When Yelena pointed at the room that was assigned to Frum, Vashta didn't stand on social niceties. She barged right into the room and began to poke around. The others were a little taken aback at such forwardness, but stuck their heads in as well.
The room was untidy, and smelled strongly of drunk. There were no bottles or puddles of vomit, but the room reeked of old alcohol and putrid sweat. Clothes were tossed into piles on the floor, and the bed was rumpled and unmade. There were no obvious signs of where Frum might be, but Yelena's and Quill's observations about taverns certainly seemed to be backed up by the evidence here. If not in the Ramblehouse, perhaps Frum is at The Killin' Ground sampling some of Rabius Clarenston's moonshine.
Checking the duty roster scrawled on a blackboard by the barracks door, Yelena sees that Frum has been marked out the last three days and the next two, with Cleanup scrawled beside his name.
Vashta hurried after Yelena, both of them coming within sight of Quill after the first turn. The fletcher apparently did learn his lesson about rushing off on his own, as his eyes glanced left and right as he moved, looking for any other opportunists.
Arriving at the barracks, Quill waited until the other two caught up and let Yelena precede him through the door. This was her domain, after all. A quick set of commands sent four off-duty patrolmen headed for the Ramblehouse to provide Kurst with the backup he needed. Another quick series of questions provided the confirmation that Frum was not in the barracks, and no one had seen him the entire day.
At this point, darkness was beginning to fall, and the lamplighters were out, lifting burning brands into the cages of oil-soaked wood high up on iron-sheathed poles.
Night time is upon you.
Apparently Quill didn't learn his lesson about racing off on his own.
Yelena took off after Quill, heading for the barracks where she knows she can find an off-duty patrol. She also knows that Omast Frum normally stays in the barracks, in one of the private rooms reserved for sergeants and above. Perhaps she can find him there, though she doubts it. Frum is more likely to be drinking himself into a stupor somewhere.
Questioning the prisoner further, you got the full details of the cave hideout, with the man's assurances that there was no one left there, nor were there any traps.
Finding no traps or locks on the double doors, Angelica nods to Jakscar. The catfolk moves up to the doors and throws them open, revealing a large flooded chamber. Wide steps lead down into a wide pool of murky water, with an identical set of steps leading up out of the far side. Beyond those steps, a hallway continues out of sight. Columns rise from the pool to support the vaulted ceiling at regular intervals, each carved to look like a coiling tentacle. Mosaics on the walls depict scenes of ocean voyages, several of which are encounters with various sea hazards.
Yep, SR. I'll roll for you this time 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
AoO: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
ref: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
b: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
l: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Anklebiter's spell fizzled as it reached the drow, its magical energies dissipated by the dark elves' natural resistances. Kelendra's arrow wasn't so easily turned, though, and it drove in deep into her target's chest. Bruendor tried to take advantage of the distraction to get behind the dark elf, but the creature's flailing blade kept him from moving position.
Calla spat vengeance at the other drow, causing its sword to twist in its hand. Instead of blocking or even partially deflecting Lefrik's axe, the blow came in harder than ever, cutting deeply into the elf and causing the elf's own rapier to score its throat. The drow's eyes widened and then closed in death.
combat hit point status:
Shabezz moves forward to look at the fungi and the bones. She recognizes the fungi as a variant on a standard shelf mushroom, its pigments likely due to the combination of mineral seepage and the slime that grows on the walls. As for the skeleton, she isn't sure. Some type of large quadruped with a conical head and armored plates on its back. As ominous as they appear, they seem to pose no danger.