“It might be wise for at least one of you to stay to assist, so that master Murnig here has the sight of a friendly and familiar face around if and when he does open his eyes again.”, Aumbril observes. “If one of you has to be off, I would prefer it to be you who volunteered to stay, Ashan, as I know you the better, if you will not mind such a comparison master Gladdenstone.”
"I will be glad to stay and help."
"Does this arrangement suit you Davkul?"
Ashan will be ready to accompany Davkul to the door, so he can quietly check on the looks he received from Davkul, and also re-assure him.
will you want a diplamacy check here?
He will also confirm where Davkul will be staying so that he can be contacted when Seebo wakes.
The last thing Ashan will suggest is for Davkul to keep his ears open, so that if he discovers any further useful information, we may be able to pass it on to the authorities, and to Aumbril.
Transfixed as he is, by the sounds coming from around the front, Seebo is too distracted to take note of the threat approaching from his rear, until with a faint rustle and a series of rapid footfalls, she is upon him.
With alabaster toned skin, blonde hair, and wearing a ballerina’s dress whose whiteness is sullied with bloody handprints the tall woman (she looks human) bounds confidently in through a breech in the wall at the ruin’s rear, and lashes out at Seebo with an ominous hand. Faint wisps of mist trail in the air behind her behind her, and she utters no sound. There is an almost translucent quality to her as if, if you looked hard enough, you would be able to see right through her. Touch attack at sufficient bonus that anything but a natural 1 hits. (1d20=14)
She strikes Seebo, and he feels a faint chill in his soul, but no other discernible effects… yet.
Initiative check (1d20+12=27)
Taking advantage of her speed and her unnatural dexterity, she presses home a further attack. (I don’t think Seebo is likely to beat her initiative check result of 27, sorry.) She pirouettes, a spectral scimitar appearing in each hand, lashing out in a flurry of blows which sap Seebo’s strength, leaving him sliding to the ground, practically helpless. Trails of some dark vapour are beginning to spill out into the air around Seebo…
At this point, Seebo has initiative.
Seebo can try and undertake one round’s worth of actions here. The position is apparently extremely disadvantageous (Seebo currently has a -7 effective penalty to strength for the duration of this ‘combat’) but I’m interested to see what Seebo would like to try, and will respond accordingly. This situation (in terms of the game) is about more than the superficial combat.
Bronx will bid Nim farewell and end back down. He'll look for some staff to ask about Seebo and to see about having some food sent up for Nim and the girl (preferably soup for the girl) and get a quick bite for himself.
Remembering what Walks Alone said about, things not being as they appear, Seebo concentrates (concentration 1d20 3=19) with all his being (will 1d20 5=21). Hoping this is no more than an illusion in this horrific place.
“Eh, yes. This arrangement certainly suits me.”, Davkul says. “I had a room paid for tonight at Mrs. Prestwick’s boarding house.” (Although he adds this latter in a manner which suggests he’s not certain if he will be there or not). “Place where Seebo and his brother were staying. And I’ll certainly be keeping my eyes and ears open...”
The sage instructs Gorwhal to show Davkul out, and invites Ashan to assist him in carrying Seebo to his laboratory. He instructs Jerek to gather up and collect various books and scrolls to accompany them.
Time: Approx. 13:35, 3 Nightal, 1383 DR Bronx makes his way up to the dining area and orders some stew, whilst at the same time getting a feel for what time it is now; he reckons up that he must have lost an hour or so wandering around the woods after losing his senses like that.
Besides requesting for some food to be sent down for Nim and the girl is there any information Bronx is interested in attempting to pump his fellow gnome, halfling, or dwarf diners (or even one of the serving staff) for?
As an after thought Ashan will add for Davkul to keep an eye out for Seebo's brother, and to let him know I will bring him back as soon as we have found a cure for him.
Ashan will then help Aumbril where ever he can.
I am unsure if you would like me to keep posting during the time spent researching how to help Seebo, If it looks like I can contribute in a directional way I will, else I will wait till I get inspired to suggest something else.
Bronx will ask about his companions and what has been happening in town today as there seemed to be a lot of commotion earlier as he was walking through town.
Davkul is shown out and Ashan helps the sage move Seebo through the house and down to the laboratory, Jerek following with the pile of books and scrolls. Here, the sage arranges Seebo carefully on one of the tables (after wiping it down with a cloth), and starts to open books and spread them out around the laboratory.
“The trouble with this posited Selûnite ‘cure’ for such a condition, as I was saying”, the sage comments, “is that I am dubious of it- not least because some of the ingredients and procedures seemed design to invoke the attention of that church’s goddess. Now I don’t have anything against Selûne, as such, but I used to attend Oghma, Lord of Knowledge, with my prayers and even though he has been mysteriously missing- alas I fear completely gone- these past few years, I simply don’t like to get involved with any obeisance to another deity. However I believe that I understand the general principles of the proposed Selûnite cure, and should be able to translate them into something I can whip up here, in my laboratory, without dragging any deities into it. Now, if you could just pass that jar...”
If you would make a Craft(alchemy) check to see how much assistance Ashan is able to be on this occasion? If you wish, you may indicate that Ashan is taking ten, instead of rolling and taking a risk.
Pieces of the conversation that Bronx has over lunch, at least as far as replies from his fellow diners are concerned, go something like this:
“What, oh, you’re one of those folk who were swatting those beetles last night. Oh, well done, sir. Excellent work.”
“No, I haven’t seen you or any of your friends around, since then, or at least not until now.”
“Hey, I think I saw you at breakfast. The last two of you to leave were asking about that guest who was poisoned, Mr. Pophilov. Terrible business; he was a guest of the mine-owners who was staying here overnight. A lieutenant of the Sable Bow came across with some men to investigate and retrieve the body and personal effects of the late departed. Your friends helped them out with their inquiries.”
“I think I saw your friends heading into a blacksmith’s workship.”
“I think I saw one of your friends calling at one of the taverns, and offering to help with getting ready for the big party tonight.”
“I think I saw one of your friend’s cloak hanging on a hook in Glittergold’s Nugget.”
“I think I saw one of your friend’s pony outside the shrine to Silvanus.”
“I think I saw a couple of your friends talking with a shady man around the side of the Lady-Mayor’s house. The man they were talking to didn’t look happy about it.”
“There’s been quite a kerfuffle in the woods this morning. Some merchant who was staying at The Black Bear and his escort were going to hold interviews up at the former Red Star Mining offices and were attacked by a couple of enormous white birds.”
“Actually there were a dozen of the birds, and they attacked the folk who had gathered for interview.”
“Well I heard that everyone who had gathered for the interview went crazy and killed each other, and the only fellow to escape alive, with a warning of the dreadful madness was the legendary gnome hero, Ten Knot Jake, with his dire-badger companion.”
“Nah, Ten Knot Jake’s a children’s story.”
“Uhhh. Gallows you say? Nooooo. There aren’t any gallows in these parts. We gaol folk, or in the case of troublemakers brought to justice so bad there’s no alternative give them a noose over a tree branch, like the violent types got back in the bad old days of the gold rush.”
“Hey, I think he might be talking about the ghost gallows in the woods to the west; that appears sometimes on nights during the dark of the moon. But that’s not a real gallows. I mean it’s just an illusion the wizard Baerauble cast a long time ago, everyone knows that.”
Bronx, once finished will head towards the Red Star Mining offices as that seems to be a place where something big happened. Also he thinks he remembers something about that from talking with the others earlier.
Oh yeah, Bronx would have left the bark with Nim as well. He's run into too many conspirators to risk it while traveling around town.
Bronx has informed me that he left the piece of bark from the cabin with Nim by the way, and told Nim to keep it VERY safe.
One of the boarding house maids comes into the room with a tray. There are a couple of rolls, a hunk of cheese, and a steaming bowl of soup on it.
"A gentleman by the name of Bronx asked for some food to be brought down. A bowl of soup for an unwell girl, and some food for another guest?", she looks around the room.
I have posted to Nim to inform him Bronx left the bark with him and told him to be careful with it. Do you want to take your pony when you head up in the direction of the offices, or to leave it here?
(Bronx has earned an additional 120 XP for his further experiences in the woods this morning, if you would like to update the total.)
Seebo closes his eyes and attempts to ignore these events in the hope that doing so he can prove them to be but figments sent to torment him.
There is an intense chill that runs through him, and a fleeting mental image of something horrible and green, all tentacles and one terrifying eye spilling through a tear....
And at this point, we wait for Ashan to post....
Having checked for directions, and made sure that the way up to the Red Star offices will be pretty obvious (apparently features such as stone walls on the way up the valley, and the cleared route through the forest at higher levels should make it impossible to go astray without magical misdirection) Bronx heads back out into the snow. He makes his way across town to the place where, sure enough, a track begins to switchback up the steep eastern slopes of the valley.
By the look of the marks in the snow, a number of horse riders have been up and down this track earlier today.
Time: Approx. 14:05, 30 Nightal, 1383 DR
Apologies, but posts may be slightly erratic over the next couple of days, as I have various things I have to do, and I am trying to keep up 'a post a day' on the Golarion Campaign Setting thread. I unfortunately spent quite a lot of time last night trying to keep flamewars on the 4E boards from getting too out of hand, to little apparent avail, and now have to 'catch up' on things I should have been doing instead of that. Sorry about this.
Bronx will try to stop anyone (that doesn't look like an official) ask them if they have seen is companions and if they know what all the commotion was about since he just back into town recently.
Besides inflicting Wisdom damage (his wisdom score will be 10 when Seebo wakes up, and will recover as per normal for ability score damage, resulting in a temporary loss of bonus spells, etc) Seebo's recent experiences are going to have removed practically all his memories of the last month or so; as far as Seebo is concerned, the last thing which he remembers before going to sleep and dreaming about mythical gnomish creatures chasing him through a ruined town and a strange man and a dancer with a blood-stained dress and green silk scarf is making preparations to head out of Sundabar the next morning with Nim, in a great hurry.
If Seebo makes a DC 12 Intelligence check, then, when he wakes up he will manage to hold onto the name 'Walks Alone', 'the old warrior' whom Walks Alone spoke of, and for some reason his mention of The Apocalypticum of Alaundo. Otherwise, few details save impressions of colour (or rather the lack of it) remain of the 'dream', and absolutely nothing of his travel to Deadsnows with Nim, and various misadventures in these parts; as far as Seebo knows he went to bed last night in Sundabar, and has just woken up.
Any questions/clarifications?
Bronx hasn't encountered anyone on the streets on his trip to the edge of town; the continuing snowfall is likely keeping people inside unless they have to travel. Do you mean that if Bronx encounters anyone whilst following the track up towards the offices that that will be what he does?
For perhaps ten minutes, Bronx follows the track as it zigzags back and forth, climbing the east side of the valley in a stretch cleared of trees. He passes a point where by the look of it the group of riders halted for a while, before many of them headed back to town, whilst some went on ahead, and then returned.
At last the track ceases to wind, and instead runs roughly south, a cleared swathe half a dozen yards wide running through the trees, almost parallel to the slope of the hill although continuing to rise slightly. Bronx makes his way onward; at some point up ahead, to the left, set into the hillside if his information is correct, should be the buildings of the former Red Star mining company.
Bronx heads on through the snow.
Eventually, the signs show the riders who were heading outward at this point, ahead of Bronx, slowed their mounts in their approach. Bronx can still see no sign up ahead through the veil of falling snow of the buildings of the mine. The only signs of living creatures- other than of Bronx, himself- are occasional strange bird calls echoing through the woods and the scuffle of a hardy mountain fox, its pelt the thick white fur of winter, scuffling down the hill and crossing the track a short way in front of him.
Bronx glances at the fox for a moment, "Best get out of here, weather's looking bad and there are strange creature's running around, no place for you." He then continues on, keeping his hand on the hammer tucked in his belt.
The fox heads off into the trees to the west, and Bronx proceeds forwards, more cautiously, through the falling snow. The track crosses a small arched stone bridge, where a stream goes tumbling away down to the right into the valley below.
If Bronx makes a DC 17 Listen check (bonus vs. fey applicable):
Spoiler:
Above the noisy chatter of the stream, from somewhere up ahead and to the left, Bronx catches voices cursing and calling to one another in sylvan.
The trees suddenly thin, and through the swirling snow, Bronx glimpses the first of a number of slate-roofed buildings to the left of the track; and he hears the warning cry of a fey calling out in Sylvan go up from somewhere nearby.
"Hey, we've got ourselves a gnome visiter!"
Things are almost back to something resembling regular (in)sanity at my end; If you're absolutely certain you have no queries or suggestions, I can try to get things moving with you and Ashan again.
Bronx will pull his cloak around him more (effectively hiding the light hammer) and say out in sylvan, "Yeah, a gnome here to make sure everything is going according to plans. Now it is cold out here, so tell me how everything worked out and be quick I have other things to do."
If Bronx could please make a Bluff check to determine what level of suspicion, if any, is raised? Bonus vs. fey applies, and a +12 circumstance bonus. I wouldn't trouble you, usually, but this one is apparently a particularly paranoid fey under these circumstances (i.e. made an astonishingly high Sense Motive Check).
Sense Motive, to detect anything wrong (1d20+6=24) “Oh right, you must be one of those guys Markov took on at the last minute.”, the voice comes from out of air, somewhere under the shelter of the eaves of a nearby shed. Other fey voices nearby, which had fallen silent, start to pick up again, as the fey who challenged Bronx continues: “Word’s getting around about you. Well Markov won’t be paying you anything now, so if you came up here looking for a fee, too bad. He’s ‘taken his leave of this world’ for the time being. The gods know it was supposed to be a simple enough assignment, pretend to be interested in hiring on, and assassinate the merchant, with backup nearby if necessary, but he blew it- must have lost control of the wildcard from the traces. All the other interviewees started chopping at one another- only before the merchant had arrived, so there wasn’t even a chance that he’d get killed in the crossfire- and then a bunch of the Sable Bow mercs showed up, only ready for trouble. After they had mopped up, they decided, given the snow, to head back to town to report, meaning at least we could move in to brush over any remaining magical traces before any high-brow nitwits can come out from town to take a look around. Given the bloody disaster, this operation’s being shutdown, and any survivors are being advised to move out of town. It was a typically over-elaborate ‘Baevus overkill’ plot anyway, practically unnecessary given the bigger picture. If he blows that because of this stupid mess up, he’s odds-on favourite to be sent to the Rashemen front. No more nice cushy jobs for Mr. High-and-Mighty curly horns over here in Luruar where the locals don’t have a clue what’s going on.”
(The fey addressing Bronx snickers at the end here.)
Bronx will act like he is mad when he hears about not getting paid, but won't interrupt. He will then say after the fey is done, "Damn, things have fallen through. You didn't happen to see some folks casting spells and messing things up for you? I was suppose to be on the look out for some folk like that."
There is a pause, then:
"Uhh, no, not that I heard. What in the hells was Markov playing at? Trying to ransom that girl back to her father and expecting underlings to maybe show up to interfere?"
The fey sounds like it's desperately trying to work out what on Abeir-Toril's going on.
"If so, did he get authorisation for that sort of side-deal?"
Bronx thinking he better not push his luck, decides it is time to go. "I got no idea what he was up to. But if things have gone to crap, then I better get out of here before those Sable bastards decide to come back." He then turns and will head back the way he came if not stopped.
"Well if you see Markov and Ranulph's partner, Jaego, tell him from us that we'd like a word or two before he skips town, if he hasn't already done so." the fey says. "He ought to have some sort of clue about what your boss was upto. Tell him, we've got another of those golden acorns for him as a bonus for assisting with the forge break-ins; that ought to get his furry little feet up here." From somewhere near by, there are snickers from other fey who have clearly been listening to the conversation.
Time: Approx. 14:37, 30 Nightal, 1383 DR
With a groan, and an aching head, Seebo opens his eyes. He finds himself lying on a firm surface of some kind, which turns out to be a table, in what appears to be an alchemical laboratory of some sort.
The laboratory is one large, high-roofed, stone-walled, open plan room, with a wooden staircase down to a floor area from a door most of the way up one and wall, and lit by a number of high-up windows at either end of the room and by various fires and magical lanterns ranged about the place. It is equipped with all manner of alchemical gear, including a rather unusual piece of apparatus which is part iron stove, part nest of glass-tubes. There are all manner of flasks and jars everywhere (and books) scattered haphazardly about the room and in the case of the containers labelled with strange and unfamiliar symbols. Here and there are various books and scrolls spread open.
In one corner of the laboratory a number of defunct beetles which appear to have been variously stabbed and/or beaten to death have been piled up, each one at least the size of a small halfling.
Standing over Seebo, with a virtually empty glass flask in hand with a stain of green liquid in it, is a clean-shaven half-elven man of bronze-toned skin, perhaps forty or fifty years old to look at and in his physical prime, his fiery red hair not yet beginning to fade. He is dressed in protective work-clothes, and has a look of intense curiousity in his keen amber eyes as he looks at Seebo, and Seebo does not recognise him at all.
Standing close to the half-elf, also wearing a protective apron, is Seebo’s contact, Ashan Ackanya. A smell not unlike a wet dog is currently filling Seebo’s nostrils, amongst other, stranger odours such as might be expected of an alchemical laboratory.
Ashan:
Spoiler:
The sage passes Ashan a protective apron, and the pair of them begin their brewing, Ashan following the sage’s instructions carefully.
It is easy to loose track of time in the laboratory, and various puffs of coloured smoke leap into the air at times from liquids, whilst strange smells emerge from some of the herbs as Ashan grinds them. Jerek comes and goes, fetching things. At length, the sage and Ashan have filled a flask, about the size of the sage’s fist, with a syrupy green fluid, which has a smell faintly reminiscent of a wet dog. The sage proceeds to carefully administer it to Seebo, and a couple of moments later Seebo twitches, coughs, then opens his eyes and lifts his head to look around.
Ashan & Seebo are both in the same ‘posting zone’ now, and can post to one another in spoilers. Sorry about the delay; I’ve had a bad few days, and have been too tired to feel able to work up posts such as these.
