1310 PbP Gameday - Beggars Pearl - utopia0137 (Inactive)

Game Master utopia27

We sure this is Torvic?

Little Foot frowns slightly at the confused dwarf, then shakes his head and moves over to the cave entrance. He attempts to conceal himself there from anyone approaching from inside, and waits in case the mite brings reinforcements while the others question the stranger.

Stealth (if it matters): 1d20 + 6 - 3 ⇒ (11) + 6 - 3 = 14

ps: back from Canada. Happy Thanksgiving!

Faeranduil is his delightfull self and scowls at the dwarf:

"Calm down a bit will you! We are pathfinders and here to look for a certain dwarf called Torvic. Are you him? And who is this person you are thinking we work for?"

"Torvic? Torvic? That's supposed to be me, isn't it? Did you say Pathfinders? Take me away from her - help me. Please?" He coughs, with a phlegmy, rattling cough, and wipes some bloody froth from his lips as he curls into a ball. On the ground, in the dust, he sits muttering. He is obviously on the verge of collapse, but he staunchly continues to jerk himself back into awareness whenever his consciousness begins to fade.

ALLCON: GM has noted the watchers at the tunnel entrance.

Falksat ignores the baby dwarf and addresses the group:
"Can any of you verify if he's under the effects of a spell? I don't think he will be of much help for some minutes, do you want to wait or shall we go after the Mite?"

What do you mean?

apologies, didn't mean to be cryptic. Little Foot at least is watching the entrance to the cave, seeking cover from anyone inside (very tactical). I just scanned back, and don't see anyone else actively covering the cave entrance. I wanted to make sure Little Foot's active oversight was acknowledged.

heh, figured he'd be more useful there then socializing

"He probably needs some time to recover or divine power to revive his senses. It would be unsafe to take him with us into the cave, we'll probably need to leave him up here. Maybe the elf's horse could keep him company." Rowanna offers her opinion, before casting Detect Magic on Tovic.

"Seriously, now, I'm not leaving him here alone. He could as well just bump into a three and die, or run away, or anything else stupid. Tell you what, why don't the party take a look inside the cave to see what you find, and I'll stay with him out here. If something shows up just call out and I'll move to help."

Torvic is not currently ensorceled (oh crimminy - now I gotta see if he has stuff.. brb.. nope), and is otherwise without magic. There is a lingering... effect. He has obviously been exposed to intensive magic. The campfire is dead, the embers are out, but the ashes still smell like smoke.

Faeranduil has also cast a detect magic at the dwarf.

"It is fairly obvious that this dwarf has been exposed to some strong magic. It seems like there is some lingering effect, but I can not quite catch what it is."

Some dice rolls if necessary
Knowledge Arcana: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

someone ask him if he actually found the place we're supposed to be looking for!

Could this be a symptom of that funky mold we read about?

Torean shakes Torvic to try to get him to focus. "Snap out of it man! You're a dwarf not some sniviling kobold! What the hell happened here? Did you find the Cavern?"

Torean checks the auras himself too.
Detect Magic
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

-Posted with Wayfinder

I don't think he will talk, so...

Falksat draws an arrow and show it to Rowanna.
"Do you mind giving me some light, my lady?"
Whether or not she casts light on the arrow, he sees the other are worried about the dwarf and moves to the entrance of the cave, bow ready and arrow notched. Taking a peek inside, he moves in a little, and if nothing shows up he shots the arrow deep inside the cave, to provide some light.

"I didn't prepare that one, but I can create lights to illuminate the cavern." Rowanna offers, casting Dancing Lights and commanding them to move inside the cavern and fill it full of light.

As light floods the cavern from diverse sources, a brief 'squee' can be heard from deep in the cavern, and the trailing scrap of a cloak flutters around a crevice far back and high up in the cavern, disappearing in a fold of rock that appears impossibly small for a rat, never mind the diminuitive mite.

-----

"Cavern? Cavern! Yes! We could retake the cavern, if only.. but someone stole the Pearl. Perhaps to save ... companions... ? But she is there - she has them, and stalks their dreams." Waving at the cavern, "Not the right way. Cavern is that way." He points a wavering finger farther into the hills.

Why do I get the impression that he is lying?
Sense Motive on Torvic: 1d20 ⇒ 13
"Impressive! Want to take a look at the cave with me?" He looks at the surrounded crazy dwarf. "Don't mind the crazy one, if there something here we will want to know what is, and the best moment is now, while he is not in full consciousness."

If no one minds, Falksat ties his filter hood and moves in, hopefully with some backup from Rowanna and some others.

"Cavern? Cavern! Yes! We could retake the cavern, if only.. but someone stole the Pearl. Perhaps to save ... companions... ? But she is there - she has them, and stalks their dreams." Waving at the cavern, "Not the right way. Cavern is that way." He points a wavering finger farther into the hills.

The dwarf frowns back at Torvic, "Others?"

I know I asked this before, but don't recall an answer... but were we allowed to take the pearl and the scrolls with us?

What exactly *is* in the cave, anyway, Little Foot's been staring into it for a bit now, curious what he's been looking at... or at least the first 60' that darkvision would cover.

As the others seem near finished with their questioning, Little Foot stands from his sentry position and readies to enter as well, stopping for a moment to check the mite that Falksat skewered earlier.

dunno, do mites even have possessions? did we look?

"Keep the light off me if you can." He says, before they move in. He keeps his bow in hand, cold iron arrow at the ready.

Assuming the cave goes for more then a short distance, he would like to stay ahead of the party in an area of dim light or less if possible, in stealth mode (Stealth: 1d20 + 6 - 3 ⇒ (14) + 6 - 3 = 17). I'm assuming that means at least 20' out in front

If it turns out the cave is just a short hole, ignore all that!

I'm getting tired of these missions that require babysitting.

"Yes, let's see what's in the dark, scary, moldy, fae infested cave." Rowanna says with flat sarcasm, flipping her hair over one shoulder and following behind Falksat. "Preferably with the whole group."

With Theo's request, she moves the lights away from him to aid his stealthy movement.

The cave is a dark, scary, moldy, bat guanno infested cave that trails off to a number of smaller crevices and cul de sacs that might (or might not) be passages deeper into the earth. You can see where Torvic must have come from, and it appears he left a fair amount of skin on the rocks he squeezed through. Theo or Torean recognize a type of rock formation that generates a large number of tunnels and small chambers. It's likely that the hills in this area are honeycombed with warrens and tunnels that lead deep into the halls of the Underdark.

At the exit from the tunnel there is a pile of old (decades old) detritus, including some decayed humanoid remains and carefully stowed mining equipment.

@Theo - yep, the party has the pearl and scrolls.

Cesare follows closely after the front rank.

Falksat waits for the dwarf to decide if he wants to go in or not, bow at the ready.

Faeranduil lights his lantern and moves into the cave. He walks just behind Cesare.

Little Foot crouches down and examines the small crevasse it appears Torvic crawled out of, motioning the others forward. He carefully examines the remains and mining equipment, using an arrow to sift through them without touching anything.

"Looks like he came out here... must have really been motivated." the dwarf observes, absently. "We aren't fitting down that."

"If what he said was right, and the Caverns are further up in the mountains, he could have found a hole to crawl out of that would have dumped his crazy ass out here." He taps the nearby rock wall, "The rock in this area is certainly good for that sort of thing.... will be riddled with cracks and fissures and the like." He scowls. "Probably why Triongger picked here to build his hall, lots of natural tunnels would make it easier going, natural venting, that sort of thing."

"But it'll be a maze if they go anywhere at all, damned miracle he got this far." There's almost a hint of grudging respect in his voice. He glances up towards the top of the cavern. "Most will be too small to use... thought that damned mite could fit easily enough."

@GM We will keep Torvic close (even against his will) to prevent him from running away (possibly with the elf's horse).

Every minute, Rowanna will recast Dancing Lights to maintain the effect unless not given the opportunity.

"Can we move forward or not?" Rowanna inquires with some confusion at Theo's explanation. Then, she looks over the group, "I don't suppose any of you are capable of disarming traps?"

"Can we move forward or not?" Rowanna inquires with some confusion at Theo's explanation.

"Unlikely." Little Foot responds with a shrug. "Torvic may have found a back door out," he indicates the small crevasse, "But he had to play contortionist to do it. We're not fitting through there. This ain't for us, we're gonna have to find the front door. Just hope Torvic's brain ain't so scrambled he forgot the way."

The problem is not the trap. As much as we can see there's not enough space for us to go any further... Although the map shows a path wide enough. I suppose that is the way the dwarf came, and also the one where I heard something going in. Is it large enough for us to proceed?

Ninja'd!

Ya, not sure if we're supposed to go this way or not!

"If we can't follow him, then lets get Torvic back down to the camp to try getting more out of him. If we find that mite again, I'm not letting it get away!"

-Posted with Wayfinder

Torvic is happy to return to his campsite, though he remains twitchy and semi-coherent. After a light meal, a good fire, and some warm blankets, he succumbs to fatigue and exhaustion.

The next morning, he awakes appearing less wild-eyed. In fact, he is rather wonder-struck at having had a restorative night's sleep.

"Thank you all. I haven't slept at all for days, or restfully for much longer - the fey witch gets into people's dreams and kills them there. If I might take a few moments to scrape off some filth, I'd be glad to answer whatever questions I can." And Torvic sets to scrubbing himself down with a will.

Lightly restored dwarf at your service - fire away with questions.

Not wasting any time beating around the bush, Rowanna asks Torvic a question originating from the missive she received from Zarta, "So, tell me, who is this Lyrehawk and what is her relationship with your expedition? Is she the one that betrayed you?"

"So, tell me, who is this Lyrehawk and what is her relationship with your expedition? Is she the one that betrayed you?"

What?

Falksat looks at Rowanna, uncertain about who would that person be.
"Forgive me, miss, but shouldn't we start asking for what exactly happened yesterday?"

How injured is Torvic? And if we rested the night, would there be a chance for those with daily healing options to fix him up more before we did so, should they desire?

"Fey witch?" Little Foot grumbles. "Another mite, like those up there?" He hitches his thumb up towards the cave from the day before.

"Stand down Falksat, it is my opinion miss Rowanna just asked an excellent question."

Falksat looks at Faeranduil with a plain face, and then to Rowanna.
"Really? Well, thanks for showing me that." He smiles. "Common, go ahead. Get your answer." He makes a gesture for them to continue.

Faeranduil looks back at Falksat, his expression like his pet just managed a trick.

"You are welcome Falksat, I am glad to see that you listen to my instructions."

He then turns to Torvic: "Well, who is this Lyrehawk?"

"Jorlin, Merisk, and Lyrehawk were companions - we opened the mines. They are Rangers of Aspodell. Jorlin and I - we escaped. But She got Jorlin - stalked his dreams and killed him horribly. I crawled and crawled. Without sleeping. Without food or drink. Hunted by Her minions. But I slept last night - and didn't die. For that I am endlessly grateful."

"We made it to the Mines - it seems like a different life, but we found it. We were not the first. The mines - my ancestors' mines - have been occupied. A hideous creature -" He pauses for a moment, transported by inner nightmares, visibly twitching, " - a hideous fey queen, Lady Morilaeth, has defiled my family's legacy. And they feast, and dance, and cavort on the alters and forges my people crafted from the deep stone. Disgusting. Depraved."

Torvic looks at the adventurers with rage, hatred, and revulsion in his eyes, "This new moon She plans a 'celebration'", he spits the word, "A great debasement of the Gallery of Wonders itself." His outburst leaves him deflated. Dejectedly, he adds, "I can only hope that Merisk and Lyrehawk gain some respite from their torments while those creatures distract themselves."

GM, I assume we examined the mite, but can't find any post detailing that. How do you want to handle that?

"I'm sorry to hear that Torvic. I guess we shall give you some aid with saving your comrades. Hurtful as it may be, can you please give us a description of what that fey queen looks like and what she is capable of?"

Little Foot frowns as Torvik tells his tale, the frown that deepens as the tale unfolds.

When's the next new moon?

"What sort of fey was this queen? Can you describe her, or her minions." He asks.

Assuming he can offer enough of a description, attempt to determine what we might be dealing with: Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

"I've heard tell of another fey creature that makes its home in these parts, a pixie no bigger then those mites that harried you yesterday. Have you had any dealings with him? Perhaps he might know more of this Morilaeth and her ilk."

Edit: oop, Falksat beat me to the first question! =)

"Lady Morilaeth is tall and willow, terrible in her shadow demeanor. She owes something to elves, and something... other. And her eyes..." again, with the twitching.. "She rules over a hideous court of lesser creatures - dero and mites and others. In herself she is an enchantress. She invades your dreams and torments them. She and her creatures brew terrible elixirs from mushrooms and poppies - they induce dreams and nightmares and worse." His eyes grow somewhat glassy, and he sighs, "oh, Lyerhawk, Merisk, would that you had died..."

New moon, conveniently 2 nights hence.
Knowledge(nature) - some oddball fey hybrid, doesn't sound like she fits a known category.
Mite - a small pouch of gems, some filthy rags, a small sized dagger of uncertain durability. Nothing written, tattooed, or other communication.

"How do we find the entrance to this place? Can we get there before the moon goes dark?" He growls slightly, "If they're busy cavorting, perhaps that'll give us a window."

Heh, this should be interesting: none of us are loaded for fey bears!

Stupid impending will saves!

Little Foot will give the remainder of his cold iron arrows to Falksat, keeping only 2 for himself, before they head out. "If its fey, these will do you better then me. All I brought though, so careful."

Faeranduil seems disgusted and is mumbling under his breath "We need someone with knowledge he said, like they do not know that I know next to nothing about the natural world."

He straightens a bit and speaks up "Time to do some extermination I guess, does anyone know if Fey have resistances or weaknesses to a specific element?"

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Well, this just got much more interesting...

"A Fey witch? I simply can't wait to make her acquaintance." Rowanna smiles darkly, "I'm also curious about another thing, Torvic. What do you know about another dwarf named Beggar? Is he involved with this in any manner?"

"This Witch is defiling the Gallery of Wonders with her enchantment magic? She dares hold her dark rituals there?!" Torean spits at the thought. He nods at Faeranduil. "Time to exterminate them is right! I'll start with that little mite and work my way up until I can laugh in her face and brain her with my hammer!"

Torvic looks hopeful, "Extermination? That sounds lovely! You can do that? I can show you where. Everything after we found the entrance is a blur, a haze. But discovering the caverns of my ancestors was the most memorable day of my life. Before it all went horribly, horribly wrong. Extermination sounds really satisfying."

"And Beggar? Beggar is a low life that skulks around these hills. Was it him that robbed me? Next time I see him I'll wring his scrawny little neck for robbing me, right after I buy him a pint for keeping the heirloom pearl and the old documents from capture by Her."

(and yes, you can hear the capitals in Her)

Falksat comes in controlled, choosing his words:
"It is dangerous Torvic. You saw for yourself what they are capable of, and although we are experienced, there is still a great risk to our lives. We will offer you aid in what you seek, but in exchange the Society will want full access to the Gallery once and if we get rid of the enemies. Agreed?"

"So eager to go back in, then?" Little Foot asks, one bushy eyebrow raised.

He shrugs slightly, then quickly gathers his things. "Lets get to it then. Won't be pretty this lot traipsing about these mountains if we don't get their before the sun's down."

"Not that they're that pretty when the sun's up either." He adds quietly with a humorless chuckle.

He gazes up into the mountains in the direction Torvic pointed the day before. "Where we headed then?"

Say, did Torvic respond to my question about the local pixie? Or he not know?

edit: heh, yay Falksat for staying on task! =)

Note: although not 'rated' for this, I'd encourage everyone to review their faction goals, either now or soon... :)

Eager to return to the halls of his ancestors, and enthused about the term 'extermination', Torvic starts looking for enough equipment to head to the Gallery of Wonders. "Have you got the Pearl? It was stolen - horrible thing that - but did it come back home? We need it. I'll remember what for when I see it. I'm sure. Absolutely." Torvic loosens some stones next to the firepit, revealing the lid of a metal box. Within are several sacks. Torvic begins rummaging, muttering to himself, "All the good stuff is gone. <blargh!> Spare clothes. Extra tools, old armor.." <sniff> <sniff> "leather hasn't degraded too badly. Glad I didn't throw out this axe." Torvic's cache has a strange variety of castoffs and spares, along with books, scrolls, notes, and old stone tablets.

"Right - let's go - we can be there before dinner if we hustle."

Torean kneels down beside Torvic to look in the box. "What are all these notes and things?" He picks up one of the stone tablets to inspect it.

Dwarven writing?