Castle Greyhawk! (Inactive)

Game Master Misroi

Drysten looks confused. That was nice of you guys to buy my ticket while I was over retrieving my daggers from the tree. You know, the know I hit three times consecutively from 20 paces. Well, maybe thanks aren't in order, I did win the juggling contest. Oh well, thanks anyway! He stops. Wait, why do we need tickets for a castle filled with adventure and danger?

"No need tickets, Drysten Treestabber. We got big famousness!!"

Grubyub hisses in exasperation at the near certainty they weren't going to cut the old man even just a little bit. He looks back at the horseyhouse and promises himself that as soon as they're done heroing in the big castle, he was going to burn the building to the ground. He'd sit back and relax as it burned and the horsies died.

The thought brings a smile to his face. Then he sees Sparkly and his new helmet and laughs out loud. "Sparkly make good choice. You keep on, keep brains in head where they belong."

Grub hefts his pack and nods for Sparkly to line up. Handle Animal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 Sparkly makes as though to argue, but shrugs in an all too goblin-like way and falls in as Grub follows the old man to the gates.

"You open gate quick, boxman guard sound-drill. We need get heroing..." Grub shakes his horseychopper at him. "No burn down horseyhouse till Grubyub get back. Don't steal my happy time."

In his normal style LeGrande moves forward slouching a bit. He shakes his head in wonder. Are all adventurers like this.

"Why do you need tickets?!?", says the old codger as he begins cranking open the gate. "There's overheads to maintaining a castle, don't you know! Food costs, repairs, wages, that sort of thing. It ain't cheap, that's for sure!" He grunts as he slowly turns the crank, and the massive iron portcullis slowly begins to rise. Additionally, some hidden mechanism also begins tolling chimes atop the castle walls, creating a melody that echoes throughout the city.

After he finally finishes, he looks back at you, his sweaty and ruddy face beaming with excitement. "Now, afore you head on in, here's your complimentary maps of the bailey, and a coupon for a free upsizing on your first mug of mead at the Merry Memory Moss. The Citadel Union is open twenty-four hours a day to the public, but the Tower of Wizardry and the Herzog's Sanctum are only available to premium guests. Oh! And here's a pamphlet with a list of the attractions available. And, one last thing, please keep in mind that while there is no restriction upon the casting of magic within the walls, any sort of charming is a criminal offense, and will be punished by the castle guards."

"And, finally, let me be the first to welcome you...to Castle Greyhawk!", he cries, a look of exultation upon his face. He beams with pride as he looks upon your group.

Drysten reads through the pamphlet, dancing on his toes and he finishes.Ohh, Temple Greyhawk sounds like fun. Can we go there? What about the Tower? I bet it's not that difficult to navigate. Actually, let's go everywhere. Drysten pauses and then looks over the pamphlet again. Excuse me, Mister, it doesn't list the treasure room on here. Where is that?

"A... pamphlet? What kind of dungeon is this!? I didn't come here for some... tourist attraction!" Darius snaps, eye twitching. He snatches the pamphlet out of Drysten's hands, stuffs it in his pocket, and begins walking towards the gate.

"Nevermind that piece of parchment. We're going in now, and we're doing this like self-respecting adventurers should."

The goblin twirls his horseychopper and stomps after the human. "Hey, Fancypants Dare Us! Grubyub want to see foldy paper pam fillet! Grub say Messy Mary Mammary Tavern best bet for contracts! We get contract, we get plan for dumpster dive!"

Sparkly jumps on Grubs backpack and whispers into the goblin's ear. Grub laughs and whispers..."Heh...what Grubyub say?"

With a keening chuckle, Grub wipes his nose and corrects himself as Sparkly hops back to the ground and sets the tin cup he's using as a hat to rights. "Grubyub mean dungeon dive..."

LeGrande follows Darius in a few steps behind carefully looking at his gear to see if there is anything he might want after he steps into the first spiked pit in his eagerness.

Weather: 1d100 ⇒ 55

"Treasure room?", the old codger repeats. "Why, probably in the Herzog's Sanctum, but I've never seen it!"

You enter the Castle, and as you do, the portcullis closes behind you with a resounding clatter. The large curved wall of the Citadel Union stands before you, and the impressive spires of the towers loom above and beyond this edifice.

You note that there aren't any peasants out milling about between the three buildings. It quickly becomes apparent to you why that is as the sky dramatically takes a darkened turn, and the temperature drops quickly. What was once a pleasant spring day turns incredibly chilly. You soon can see your breath, and what starts as white powder quickly progresses to heavy wet flakes. Snow begins to pile up outside, and visibility begins to drop. The wind howls mightily and picks up into a strong gale.

"Well," Darius comments, very happy to have taken his prized furcoat along, "The weather certainly is fickle around here. That Herzog's Sanctum seems like as good a place to start at any."

He nonchalantly takes the pamphlet out of his pocket and begins to consult it to find out where this sanctum might be, clearly unaware, or in deliberate ignorance of, the hypocrisy of that gesture.

Snowball touch attack!: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Fester wads a handful of snow, carefully molding it into a vaguely ball-like shape and hurls it at Darius. It misses the rogue by mere inches as Fester acts nonchalant and innocent.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Personality shift: 1d2 ⇒ 2

Snowball fight! Drysten packs his own snowball and wings it at the Jester.

Ranged attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

The snowball seeks out the "trying to look innocent" jester" like madness must have targeted him so long ago. The results of both inquiries were the same, leaving the Jester in a suddenly wet coat.

1d2 nonlethal damage or just let that part go?

"Why use white fluffies? Rocks work better!" He stabs his horseychopper into the ground and digs under the fresh powder. But he soon realizes that the powder would be more fun since he didn't want to see his new companions bleeding. Grub grabs up a wad of snow and hurls it at the smaller human.

"Hey, Fancypants Dare eel Us! No eat yellow snow!!"

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17 (+2 Favored)

The snowball splatters against Darius' arm, the snow getting into the mink coat's fine fur. He looks at it for a moment and brushes the snow off, then sneers at the rest of the party.

"How immature. Keep me out of your games."

Duncan shakes off the first few flakes with a look of confusion on his face. As he begins to understand what is happening his eyes light up like a kid at the feast of fools."Ooh, ooh, SNOW GUYS! IT'S SNOW! SNOWBALL FIGHT!!!" Duncan moves to the biggest pile of snow he can find and about lifts it up as a whole over his head. "SNOWBALL FIGHT!!! He screams again as he dumps it on the Jester. Everyone else becomes splattered with the slushy snow as it splatters outward.

1d20 ⇒ 13Splash weapon attacking the area :)

Legrande runs for the door, determined to stay out of the silly fight. He hates getting cold, and it must be warmer inside. Besides he knows they wouldn't have a chance in a real snowball fight.

You guys are forgetting your -4 for improvised weapon. BTW I don't have that same penalty :-)

As Duncan, Grubyub and Drysten fling snowballs at each other (or, in Duncan's case, does his best to emulate a very chilly create water indeed), LeGrande breaks for the nearest door, the snow crunching beneath his webbed feet. He bursts into the Citadel Union, and is immediately rewarded by welcoming warmth. The Union's interior is about as warm as the day had been before the freak snowstorm, and he notes several townsfolk milling about, shopping at one of the many pavilions located within.

Darius pulls up the collar of his fur coat, keeping himself as warm as possible as he examines the map. He notes that the Sanctum is located in the northeast of the inner bailey, but the freak blizzard has reduced visibility to a degree that everything beyond thirty feet or so is obscured by a billowing wall of white.

Meanwhile, the Snowball Trio are approached by a small group of men dressed in dark leathers and are clearly unshaven. The three of them have also fashioned snowballs, and each sports a colorful knitted cap upon their heads. "Evenin', gents," says one, tipping his cap. "My name is Creuse, and I'll be your random mugging encounter this evenin'. Hand over your money, and not only will we not have to hurt ya, but we'll also give you a lovely T-shirt out of the deal. Show 'em the shirt, Peabody." A squat man withdraws a black T-shirt with the phrase You too can get mugged in Castle Greyhawk on the front, and the phrase ASK ME HOW! on the back. "So, what do you say? Do you want to do this the easy way? Or the hard?" Mirthless grins break out on their faces as they brandish their snowballs menacingly.

Darius bursts into laughter, looking at the three men.

"You? Rob us? Don't be foolish. If it's a battle you're looking for, I'll trounce you like you've never been trounced, but I advise you to leave."

"Oooh, oooh!" Fester shouts, prancing about. "The hard way, please! Oh please, oh please."

Duncan upon hearing the laughter of Darius, and not having payed one wit of attention to the newcomers due to the snowball fight, looks over to the three and sees the snowballs in hand.."Ooh, you join in snowballs fight." Duncan squeals as he flips a large pile of snow out towards the new targets continuing to get snow all over everyone.

With a sudden start Duncan raises to his full 6'7", a gentle giant towering over his companions. "I sorry misters, I'm not sposed to do things like that to people I don't know." He hurriedly rushes over to Creuse and starts to try and wipe the snow off the man. "I am so sorry mister, I am so sorry. I try to think ahead but it is so hard, please I a good man. I don't mean to be such a lunk, Grammy says it's because I don't have the sense Beory gave a slow boulder but I think I just smart enough." Duncan continues to busy himself wiping snow off the other two. "I don't mean to be bad, I aint hurt no one no ways. Not since that one time, oh but I didn't mean to that one time. I thought cause it was a bull it would be safe to play with. I always wanted a pet of my own and i thought a bull would be ok. I didn't mean to break the bull, I just wanted to pet him. Grammy got so cross with me, oh and she is gonna whup me. PLEASE DON'T TELL GRAMMY I THREW SNOW AT YOU" Duncan stares back at Darius with pleading eyes. "TELL THEM I DON'T WANT TO HURT THEM. I ONLY SUPPOSED TO HURT BAD PEOPLE. I DIDN'T MEAN ANYTHING BY IT."

Sorry Darius but you have been elected my George Milton. I am actually have a lot of fun playing the Lennie Smalls.

Don't worry, you'll get to take care of the rabbits.

Grubyub growls low and swings his horseychopper above his head.
Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

Move Action
"Sparkly, go for the eyes, boo!" he shouts towards his raccoon companion...Handle Animal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7...who clearly sees the better way to view this event is from a safe distance.

Attack Action
Grub attacks with his polearm... "Grubyub no want shirt, Grubyub want chop!!" With bloody murder in his little goblin eyes, he brings his weapon down on the one speaking.
Horseychopper Attack: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 + 2 = 22 +2 vs Humans
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 6

10pts to whoever gets the reference in the post...

personality shift: 1d2 ⇒ 2

initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Drysten opens up his pockets, stirring up the bountiful amounts of air inside of them. He profers the empty hands to the newcomers. Consider me good and mugged. Can i have the t shirt now?

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Darius draws his rapier, smiling with sadistic glee.

Ah, finally some action.

Any hope we could see what the area's like? Positioning and such?

And live off the fatta da land. As to the reference it's a raccoon not a miniature giant space hamster. Also if we put you in charge does that mean swords for everyone?

Duncan is puzzled.

Initiative: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Heh, heh, you bet. But I'll have to make the quiz harder next time.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

"There once was a bandit named Slice, who was offering free muggings tonight. But he tried with a gnome, who beat on his dome, and cut his throat with his own knife." The jester grins evilly and his eyes flash dangerously. For just a second, he appears startlingly lucid and serious.

LeGrande breathes a sigh of relief at the now comfortable surroundings, and briskly rubs his hands together to stimulate the blood flow. He begins to browse around the union waiting for his new comrades to finish up their silly snowball fight. That stuff is dreadful. I don't understand why one would intentionally throw it at another if they don't mean harm.

My apologies, but I don't have a mapping program, and spreadsheets haven't worked out for me at all. We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way - using our imaginations! Most of the time, we shouldn't need too much tactical detail, but if there's questions, let me know.

Hooligan Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Creuse grins as Darius and Drysten forgo the easy route. "Excellent. I was hoping you'd BLRFFLRMRPHLLL!" Whatever he was about to say was lost when Duncan dumps a great deal of snow upon his head.

Strength: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

The hooligan somehow manages to keep his footing in the knee-high snow, but he is covered in the stuff. "Get off of me, brute!", Creuse cries as he tries to push the giant man away from him. "Alright boys, let 'em have it!" The three begin to wind up to throw their snowballs.

Those of you who are outside get to do stuff before Creuse, Peabody and Ragout go.

MEANWHILE...

LaGrande rubs his webbed hands together, and soothing warmth soon returns to the digits. Taking in his surroundings, he can see signs pointing to all sorts of shops and boutiques within the Union:

Seeing they don't want to hand over the t-shirt, Drysten decides to change tactics. He sidles next to one of the outside would-be-thieves starts whispering.

Vision of Madness

Melee Touch: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (17) + 0 = 17

Your mother never loved you.

The man takes a -1 penalty to attack rolls for 3 rounds.

@GM - Can you apply my above post?

Fester begins to sing, much better than he had previously. In fact, the tune is rather pleasing and inspires his allies.

"Slice, slice, slice the thug, stab him in the spleen,
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, helps keep life serene."

Using bardic performance to inspire courage (+1 to saves, attacks, and damage).

Perform (sing) check (if needed): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

At this point, I'm sort of lost. Are we expected to fight lethally or not? Pathfinder and this being a dungeon says lethal, but the whole "tourist attraction" thing makes me uncertain. Would I get in trouble for stabbing these guys?

React how you think Darius would react to the situation. Personally I am going to have to ignore the first round of combat as Duncan is going to be confused by the sudden fighting.

Duncan looks to Darius with pleading eyes hoping for some confirmation that he was still doing right.

Darius watches, baffled, as the would-be bandits pick up snowballs.

"Oh. Is that how it is? How pointless."

Shrugging, he disregards Duncan's interrogations completely, and follows LeGrande into the union.

"I don't know about you, but I'm getting the nagging feeling this place isn't what I came for."

If you're baffled by these events, then you're probably roleplaying Darius right. Every comedy needs a straight man, and it looks like you've elected yourself to be that man!

Drysten sidles up to the third man, who immediately shrieks in terror. "By the gods, it's terrible! Make it stop, make it stop! Why would they choose Affleck? It shatters the belief in a rational universe!!!" He flings his snowball at some imagined nightmare, which hurtles through the air and crashes into the side of the Union.

Meanwhile, Duncan looks back to Darius for guidance. None comes from the proud swashbuckler as he boldly strides into the Union, the snow quickly melting that had fallen upon his fur-lined coat.

"Ragout!", Creuse cries as he sees one of his men whimpering to himself. "You unmagic him this instant, or I'll-", is as far as the leader gets before Grubyub charges him and stabs the hooligan with the crudely-fashioned horsechopper. An incredulous look spreads across the man's face as he instinctively presses his hand to the fresh wound, color draining from his cheeks as he sees his own blood staining the snow. "Oh, blast it, it's all gone wrong!" He winces as he slumps to the ground.

Peabody looks to his two allies, one of whom has curled up into the fetal position on the ground, while the other slowly bleeds into the snow. He looks back to the group, and then finally to the man-mountain that has yet to move. He shrugs and tosses the T-shirt he had previously been holding to Duncan. "Here, take it, it's yours!", he cries before retreating into the falling snow.

The goblins whoops with delight and jumps up and down leaving little goblins prints in the snow. "Ha ha!! Grubyub slit his throat!!" Grub jumps forward and runs a circle around the downed human. Hearing Festerjester's singing puts the little scamp in a delightful mood!

"Now Grubyub crunch,
he'll break his chest apart,
time for early lunch
when he tear out his heart!!"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 2 = 14 +2 vs Humans

He brings his horseychopper up in a stabbing arc, ready to bury it into the thug's back so he can cut him open like a dead deer...or a dead human. "Ha ha, time for Grubyub to eat!! Great Bip say Grubyub need more heart!"

Chopper Attack!: 1d20 + 2 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 2 + 1 = 15 +2 vs Humans / +1 Inspire Courage (Fester)
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 +1 Inspire Courage (Fester)

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

personality shift: 1d2 ⇒ 1

Seeing the goblin prepare to strike again, Dristen moves in front of the dead man. What are you doing! He's dead, let his soul rest! He thinks for a second. We'll take whatever loot he has on him as a tribute to pay for his way to whatever good afterlife he believed in.

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 20

In a remarkable moment of clarity, Fester says, "He's not dead! Not yet! I saw his eye open!"

Grub frowns at the halfling, growling out. "See, Drystendaggers?!? Grubyub miss chance to offer heart to Great Bip!"

The goblin spins his weapon about and prepares to strike again. "How dirtbag robber learn lesson not to steal if he no dead?" He dances around the halfling and goes in for the kill. "Grub want t-shirt say, 'me capture your heart in Greyhawk Castleplace!'"

Chopper Attack!!: 1d20 + 2 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 2 + 2 + 1 = 14
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Fester thinks for a moment, then sings, "I took your heart, in Castle Greyhawk." He chuckles to himself. "Yep, that works."

Duncan gives a shocked gasp as blood sprays out from the man. He takes but a moment before shouting out for help."Help, Help! Goblin is hitting this guy!"

Edited for mental level.

As Grubyub approaches, Creuse's eyes flick open, and he attempts to roll out of the way. In the end, he's too late, and a grievous wound opens on his side. "Oh, bugger all this!", he cries, one hand clutching his bleeding side. "Alright, alright! I yield, just keep your gob off me! The shirt's yours, and you can have my cash as well, just don't kill me!"

Duncan's shouts draw a pair of the guards. "Alright, alright, we're here. No need to shout. So, what's happening?" They look down at Creuse. "Well, well, well, if it isn't old Creuse. Where are your boys? Run off when your marks had teeth?" Creuse stares daggers at the guardsmen, remaining silent.

What's Team Union doing?

Dristen's eyes light up. Cash you say? I'll be taking that

"The Merry Memory Moss Tavern? That certainly looks like it could be interesting. If anything, I could certainly use a drink after all these idiocies."

Darius approaches the tavern and takes a peek.

Seeing Darius enter...he seems to have at least a little common sense...LeGrande moves to join him.

"Think they have anything in there hot"?

"Wouldn't be much of a tavern if they didn't." Darius remarks.

"He's giving away money?!" Fester shouts. "I could use some!" He steps up to get his fair share.

With the guards called in and the violence averted Duncan runs into the Union looking for Darius. "SIDE BURN GUY, HEY SIDE BURN GUY! WHERE ARE YOU SIDE BURN GUY!"

Grub plants his polearm in the snow butt first and looks down...err, straight at the bandit kneeling and clutching his guts. "Me Grubyub Sloppybreech, big famous archer. Me hand you a$$ for breakfast, eh?"

He notices Dirtydaggers and Festerjester grabbing the man's coin. "Bandit keep shirt, clean self up...you bleed all over pretty snow"

He looks up at the arriving constabulary, "Grubyub get reward, yes?"