Against the Cult of the Reptile God - Group 1 (Inactive)

Game Master Chainmail

When asked his name, the old man responds with the single word; 'Ramne'.

The trip back to the others is much slower as the old man leans on Maggie on the way back. As the returning group approaches, those left behind notice nothing amiss until the old man appears out of nowhere when the groups merge. He is quick to start speaking in a cracking voice:
"Get up! We are off to the nest of vipers! Daylight is a wasting."

A weasel stays on the shoulder of the old man, occasionally checking his two pockets for seed.

"Yeah, c'mon! Didn't you know? We're off the see the Wizard!" Strang smirked, before beginning to whistle.

Terion paces back and forth impatiently as he waits for the other to return - "Foolish this all!! We sit here not knowing what could be happening to the lads and the girls... It makes me go nuts!"

They are my charges, MY responsibility!! If something happens to the kids..."

"Wizard? I thought we were going after an evil cult."

It's a reference to a movie.

I don't know what that is.

It's like a story, but you can see and hear what the characters are doing and saying.

Isn't that witchcraft?

I'm not clear; did we get the gear we wanted?

If you posted your list of pruchases before the post that Ratigan returned and bought things you asked for, it was bought. If you didn't, I will created a second trip to the black market. Strang may get the standard--do you want to join the club? opportunity all rogues get.

Belrain, decked in his new armor and with his new weapons readied, gets up from where he had been painting more embellishments onto his shield. "How'd it go? Did you get the information? I'm ready if everyone else is!" he says.

Magnhildr shrugs her answer to Belrain's question.

I've got a question for all of you. Kirthfinder basically describes Charisma as being a measure of your self-confidience and force of personality. How do you portray a character that's competent and confident in battle, but very awkward the rest of the time? I don't normally dump charisma, so this is new for me.

Fighting is one thing, but sometimes having to talk to people is an excruciating experience. You can't relate with other people, don't understand their motivations or when something you say would be offensive.

The shortest definition of PF charisma I can think up is this: Confidence. High CHA characters know exactly what they're thinking, what they want, and how they're going to go about it, and they do it. They also understand the way people respond, and understand how to maneuver around their kind. Low CHA may be hesitant, shy, tactless, or blunt. Of course, being PF, any mix and match of the above qualities good or bad is believable in RP, if you can play it off right. It's not all about the looks.

Ama, still torn between bemusement and worry, comes to stand next to Belrain. She smiled at his enthusiasm-- something that she did not quite have-- and gestured to the old man with a shrug. "He is it."

The glaive rested on her shoulder, and she casually leaned against the weapon, watching the old ma-- "Ramne", she mentally reminded herself. "He says he can lead us to their main base, and keeping in mind that we have been in the temple twice so far, switching our assault may catch them unprepared."

Her expression was a bit dubious, but it was better than what they had to go on, so she was willing to trust the hermit. The sooner the townspeople were not waylaying visitors to their town, the better things would be.

"A change of approach is certainly called for, I agree. We can only hope that enough forces are diverted to the temple now to ease our entry to the main hideout."

"I agree with Elgoron, naturally. We've discussed it and it seems the only smart decision. The swamp is where we would have ultimately been heading anyway. This just bypasses some needless danger and hopes to catch the cult by surprise."

We are not yet all together right? Because Terion has a couple of thoughts on ignoring the temple ;)

We brought him back. I think we're all back together now.

Ramne leans on the strong barbarian and chats amiably with Maggie as they depart. The path you recognize as the one you were led on when the elves rescued you.

Whiskers, the badger leads you unerringly through the swamp, never seeming to lose the trail. Ramne feeds him the occasional treat as you wander slowly on the trail.

Ramne has a song he like to sing: "The ants go marching one my one hurrah, hurrah."

You cannot believe that he has made up his own verses all the way to a hundred by hundred, but he has. His singing voice is not all that nice either, but he makes up for it with determination.

Marching order is good?

Ama was rather uncertain about which to undertake. 'If the cultists were working with a limited amount of men-- and they sent people to reinforce the temple-- if we assaulted the base in the swamp, they would have somewhat of an advantage.', she thought to herself. Unfortunately, they just did not know enough about what was going on besides what they had been told.

::agreement::

'We're missing some information, but don't have the means to acquire it.. or do we?' Thinking back on something they had her do in the temple that she had not proven to be too good at, she thought about the mental exercise she was taught. "If we were not able to approach the temple, or the swamp, how would we learn what was going on?", she asked herself..

The cultists were people, as far as she had known.. and people had to eat. Unless they were especially good at survival in the swamp, how much food were they getting from somewhere else? Was there some kind of clue that would let them know which people of the town were allied with the cult? Perhaps a symbol?

Shaking her head, she looked back to the others to see what they were planning. She was trying to remember if she saw anything like that when they first came into town.

So, we're back to going in blind, in a new location, with probably worse odds.

Seems so.

And we've got baggage this time too.

I have a feeling that Ranme over there will prove to be more than he seems.

Hopefully it's for the best then, and not just another cultist trap.

Well, with our warriors a bit better equipped, and everyone on a similar train of thought for our battle formation, we should endure combat much more efficiently than before.

But will it be enough??

As the group making their way to the temple for the third time, Strang kept an especially sharp watch for signs of cultist activity.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Swamp, not Temple. I'm guessing Mags and Felgar are up front, with the wizards in the middle of the rest.

Magnhildr takes the extra weight without complaint. She obviously felt uncomfortable talking to the man at first, but as the trip went on, she managed to relax a bit. She didn't mind the singing, and was actually humming along after a few verses.

She does keep an eye out as well. Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Terion continues on mumbling and muttering about not going to the temple to make sure it is cleared out, and trusting someone out of the blue.

Apart from that, he keeps to himself.

Felgarr shares Terion's reticence at not clearing out the temple, but having a guide to the cultists stronghold proves too powerful a temptation for him to ignore.

He approaches the taciturn warrior, wary of the old man's possible betrayal and catches Terion's eye, and nodding minutely in affirmation.

Then, he takes his place at the van, with the wild woman.

Whiskers leads you through a slight swamp, but it quickly gives rise to farms and ranches. Curiously many seem abandoned.

After an evening of camping, nothing happens, and day 2 starts out pleasantly. After only an hour of travel, Whiskers leads you into a gloomy wood. Moss hangs from the trees and the dripping of water seems everywhere. The forest is eerily silent.

Whiskers leads you through a hidden trail to the right around noon, and light is needed to see in this dark woods. Given the lack of underbrush in the light starved woods, the party can walk two wide easily.

The journey continues and at the end of day it is time to make camp again. Ramne seems to creak as he settles down. Although he hasn't complained, the two day trek seems to be taking its toll on his old frame.

Encounter: 3d8 ⇒ (6, 3, 1) = 10

Set up three watches, and we'll see what happens. Let me know who is 1,2,and 3 watch

I'll take third watch.

Terion is glad to take first watch - preferably with someone that has Darkvision ;)

Since yesterday was uneventful, our spellcasters should still be at full capacity. For expediency, I suggest:
1) Terion, Strang, Ama
2) Felgarr, Elgoron
3) Mags, Bizzle, Belrain

Since yesterday was uneventful, our spellcasters should still be at full capacity. For expediency, I suggest:

1) Terion, Strang, Ama
2) Felgarr, Elgoron
3) Mags, Bizzle, Belrain

Works for me.

Agreed.

Seems balanced. a healer awake at all times.

I'm good with it.

The third watch notices a pack of wolves cross your trail. As day is breaking, they seem to melt away.

As the group resumes the trek, the ground gets softer, the forest darker, and the air soggier.

Ramne speaks up: "The locals call this the Dim Forest. An apt name."

Whiskers continues to find a trail through the forest and swamp.

Maggie Survival: 1d20 ⇒ 11

Helping the old man, Maggie notices that she can follow the trail of what look to be large lizard tracks that they are following now. The party completes a third full day of travel and Maggie finds one of the few dry spots in the swamp to camp. The water nearby seem to have a strange taste, but does not seem contaminated. Another night of watching is uneventful, though an occasional wolf is seen.

The fourth day of travel following Whiskers through the swamp leads to what appears to be a structure of some kind in the distance. Obvious man made straight lines are seen that blur the natural curves of the swamp.
Ramne exclaims:"We best tackle that in the morning. A night assault is probably not so smart. Maybe we can camp nearby and come back."

It is well into twilight after four days of travel and you arrived at what looks to be a large man-made structure in the middle of the swamp.
Do you investigate some now, or come back fresh in the morning?

Let me know if everyone has four days of rations. If not, Maggie will have to make some survival rolls and take some risks to find food with wolves stalking the party.

I say we chance it with the wolves. If a night assault isn't smart then I don't to chance it.

Ehh, looks like I don't, anyway. A bit of hunting may be in order.

Six days' Trail Rations, here!

"Yeah, I think we've had it up to 'here' with doing things 'not so smart', right, Bel?"

Yum, Rations.

Bizzle sits resting his feet. "You know what's fascinating? Shoes. Everyone needs them. They're always running out, and a good pair can help you avoid disease and move you faster. I wonder if there's a way to make them better? Anyway, I'm all for resting tonight. I'm tired."

Terion has exactly 4 days of rations :D

If hunting is necessary, Terion will provide his assistance as best he can:

Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Meh... At least I can aid another :/

Belrain smiles at Strang. "We did the smart thing, you and I, and didn't get killed." he says sadly. "Let's hope we're smart enough now to put an end to this cult and give our friends a peaceful rest, by the Light."

Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26 With Terion's aid that's a 28 :D Only two days of rations here, but I think we're good.

Magnhildr goes hunting, but those of keen wit notice that the petite, wild-haired woman doesn't carry a bow, but instead a glaive.

Terion cannot help but amaze at how the lithe woman stalks its prey, getting close enough to cut them down with her massive weapon, instead of the most traditional ranged hunting methods.

When she approaches him again, he nods and whispers to her as much as to himself - "Amazingly done girl..."

Elgoron sits down on a hopefully dry rock, and motions Bizzlemont to join nearby.

"You and I need to maximize our advantages. Opening our spellbooks has yielded tremendous benefit, but we need to plan out our daily preparations if we're to squeeze the most utility out of our boon. Since it sounds like we're camping here tonight, we'll have a fresh start to rearrange our choices and go in with a bit more of a plan."

"Agreed. What do you have in mind? I have two of my Color Spray spells right now, a Mage Armor, and basic illusion spell. Obviously it's my forte, but if you have a better idea, I'm open to it. I also have cantrips, but those are mostly minor things."

"Well, as it is, our limited energy means we must make our spells count. We need spells that will turn the tide and let our combatants wade into melee with less resistance. the color spray is good for everything but the undead, as far as I can tell. Just make sure to hit multiple targets, excluding our allies. I'll try to have a few castings of grease ready in the morning to give our enemies worse footing. Enlarging one of our friends might also give us tactical advantage with their increased reach. Combined with a slippery floor, it means enemies will have to test their balance and pick themselves up off the floor while enduring blows long before reaching us. And try to aim your blinding rays at the foes wielding the biggest weapons. You may want to keep the ray of frost prepared so you have a way to continue the battle once drained."

Think that about covers it.

Where in the world have you gained combat experience? How would a child know any of these considerations?

Strategy games.

4 days rations here

Ama spends much of her time in meditation, sorting and calming her mind. While she perhaps should have been apprehensive about what they were undertaking, they were already in the midst of it. So she resolved to deal with things as they came. So for now, she was focusing on herself. Meditation was not so hard, she had figured that instead of praying outward, you were focusing inward-- or at least, that was how she was working on it.

'I've almost figured out how to find you, too.. You're not hiding from me.'

::(Innocent)::

'Riiight.. I appreciate the peace, at least.'

::(dismissive acknowledgement)::

Ama had also noticed that Maggie had a glaive. She was going to have to ask her for pointers, since her dismal performance in the temple was not only ineffective, but embarrassingly inaccurate. She had to have picked up a bad habit somewhere that needed to be corrected.

"Good thinking. I'll exchange my armor spell for one to enlarge the others. If I sacrifice my ability to see magic, I can prepare Ray of Frost too." He suddenly smacks his forehead with his hand. "And we should have been making scrolls the past few days. How could we have forgotten?"

Are you guys metagaming?

Meta-what? What is that?

It's when you use out of game knowledge to benefit you.

Well if I'm a part of the game, then how would I bring knowledge from outside it? We are merely maximizing our resources and potential.

Oh, so min-maxing. That's not much better.

If you have a dagger, you stick it in other people. You don't stick it in yourself. That's what madmen do. We are intelligent beings.

Hmm, good point. You're pretty smart at this.

Undoubtedly. Remember, I'm older than you. 65 years of 'this' gives me an edge.

Yeah, but you spent the last 15 years making glass. Just glass. That doesn't help.

Oh, Shut up. You're the one that wrote it.

"Hey, are you guys talking about magic?" Belrain asks, overhearing Bizzlemont and Elgoron. "I know some magic. Maybe I can help with that too. I usually just ask for protection spells and ways to bless myself or allies. Is there anything else I can be doing to help us be more effective? Oh! And I can make scrolls too!"

"Hmm. You have a point, Belrain. I'd overlooked that your favor with the divine gives you a few resources. I do think blessings that aid the combat of the whole group are best, since you likely have as few as we do each day. So long as you can heal the seriously wounded and bolster our melee combatants en masse somehow, we'll tilt the scales in our favor in each battle. I have little experience with divine magic, for obvious reasons, so my best suggestion is to take note of our current spells and complement our choices with your own. You may wish to confer with Ama as well, since you two are likely to have similar opportunities for magical preparation. Just make sure that once everyone has their ideas, we confer as a group again to make sure we've covered all the group's needs."

Magnhildr doesn't speak much that night. She can be heard humming a tune as she runs a whetstone over the blade of the sword that was often at her back.

The party spends a damp, soggy night in the swamp and advances to what appears to be raised wooden palisade built to keep the mucky swamp water out. Everyone has wet boots as you wade in muck waist high, even higher for smaller folks.

There is about a fifty by fifty foot dry area inside the wooden palisade. At the end of the dry area a set of stairs descends into the depths. It is remarkably dry inside and the tracks of lizard-like feet lead inside.

Ramne points out: "This construction is not recent. This palisade has been here a while. It has restrained the incursions of the swamp for some years."

Strang carefully looks from behind the palisade into the dry spot, and has spotted nothing suspicious, creature or trap.

Any preparations. Are you stepping over the palisade and heading down the stairs?

I think we're heading over. If not, well, I guess I am about to mess up those plans.

Magnhildr shudders as she thinks about what the water was doing to her sword and glaive, but she pushes those thoughts out of her head as the palisade comes into view. She listens to Ramne, nods, and clambers over the wooden barrier, making the area a little less dry.