Cottonseed Lodge (PFS2)

Game Master Redelia

"There an 'Olombe' that be staying here?"

The ulfen man, stout for his breed, and hearty if of midway heft, with hair coiled into thick locks and covered shoulders-broad in heavy furs, asking nobody seemingly in particular, looks this way and that before seating himself at the bar.

"That'd be the ship leaving for the north - back home doncha know! - been a long couple months heading back from the east - could wind myself up now for a darkened draught" he smiles and quizzes a look "Or down, rather it'd be. Or maybe..." a look of mischief as he glances inside his large coats at the bandolier bearing various bottles of mixed-volume reagents "Something to relax - fitting for long voyage!"

So ..... where are you going?

"There an 'Olombe' that be staying here?"

The ulfen man, stout for his breed, and hearty if of midway heft, with hair coiled into thick locks and covered shoulders-broad in heavy furs, asking nobody seemingly in particular, looks this way and that before seating himself at the bar.

"That'd be the ship leaving for the north - back home doncha know! - been a long couple months heading back from the east - could wind myself up now for a darkened draught" he smiles and quizzes a look "Or down, rather it'd be. Or maybe..." a look of mischief as he glances inside his large coats at the bandolier bearing various bottles of mixed-volume reagents "Something to relax - fitting for long voyage!"

A mwangi man in his seventies speaks up. "I am an Olombe." He chuckles and looks around the room. "In fact I should think I am the only Olombe here at the moment."

He approaches the ulfen and sets his drink on the bar. "Who might you be, my friend? And why do you seek me? I don't recall owing anyone any money." He checks his purse. "And considering the state of my finances at the moment that is indeed a good thing."

"Scuttlebutt is you are the man I am looking for - I have use of a skald" the ulfen man smiles broad, the near misunderstanding flying right over his thick head "Not just you - we may need a ranger and a druid (Quetzahl and Ulfgar) - wilderness you know, gotta be stayin' together - and a sneak (Nal)- in case we get into trouble. And perhaps a man who can fight with his bare hands" (Zizarc).

"Me though? M'name's Fjorn of the Kolkind Clan. I'm roundin' up a posse to head north - gotta a friend of a cousin who needs help. And they can pay"

Letting the phrase hang in the air, our pharmacological hero looks around for the bartender - all the while sizing up the other patrons in the bar, before turning to Zarina "Irrisen" with a sudden reply "You been there?"

Zarina ponders for a bit. Near it ... like the Land of the Linnorm Kings ... but not in it. Bit too cold for my tastes.

As Fjorn describes what he needs, a dwarf with red hair that is receding but a thick, immaculately braided beard and a perpetual scowl stares into his mug of ale. He sighs, then spits on the floor before draining the mug and setting it on the table.

Standing up, he heads over to where Fjorn and Olombe have gathered and waits, silently, one hand resting idly on the head of the waraxe on his belt, the other on the hilt of his clan dagger.

"Spitoon's right over there, buddy" the goblin behind bar says, pointing to a brass fixture a few feet from Ulfgar as he walks over to collect the empty mug.

"Scuttlebutt is you are the man I am looking for - I have use of a skald" the ulfen man smiles broad, the near misunderstanding flying right over his thick head "Not just you - we may need a ranger and a druid (Quetzahl and Ulfgar) - wilderness you know, gotta be stayin' together - and a sneak (Nal)- in case we get into trouble. And perhaps a man who can fight with his bare hands" (Zizarc).

"Me though? M'name's Fjorn of the Kolkind Clan. I'm roundin' up a posse to head north - gotta a friend of a cousin who needs help. And they can pay"

Letting the phrase hang in the air, our pharmacological hero looks around for the bartender - all the while sizing up the other patrons in the bar, before turning to Zarina "Irrisen" with a sudden reply "You been there?"

"A skald you say? You intend perform some impressive deeds then?" The old man drinks deeply from his flagon as he ponders this. "Very well. The chance to gather new stories is always welcome. I have never been to the far north before and now is as good a time as any."

Wrap up warm .... and be careful swimming in the waters there. They're extremely cold. She grins at the memory.

She then uses a spell to clean the floor.

"Thanks, Zarina" Seedy calls back to the druid as he retreats behind the bar.

No prob Seedy

"Yew misunderstand" the ulfen corrects the elder anadi "I'm keen on stories - long trip doncha know" his eyes light up here before spinning now to face the approaching the dwarf "Not a big talker, are yew? Yew know, where I'm from, a man is measured by his actions, so, from the looks of yew, yew seem capable and strong" making another glance around the bar "Still waiting on a few others..."

Noticing Zarina "Well that was awful good-hearted of yew, seeing as it looks like the bartender has his hands full" venturing an awkward stare from the dwarf to the human and back "I suppose that - er - since he's with me, I can apologize on his behalf!" dropping a few coins on the table - slightly overpaying - for the next drink...

Zarina just shrugs. Well .... I like to be helpful ... and Co-operate is part of our motto. Besides, I just got in from Port Valin at the northern end of Arcadia and not sure what to do next. I suppose I could go back to Jalmeray or maybe go home for a bit

The dwarf jumps a bit as Seedy calls him out. He follows the man's gesture and notes the spittoon. The flushes noticeably and looks like he's about to spit again in consternation but then swallows.

He gives a nod of thanks to Zarina and a nod of acknowledgement to Fjorn.

Sianfinn Duuslan, an aloof human in her 20s with long black hair gathered up in a ponytail and wearing an off-white cloak over a jet black dress, cautiously steps into the lodge. The Pathfinder Society had been good to her, very good to her, but actually being a Pathfinder? That was different.

She quickly surveys the room. Everyone here was so different from each other, and from her-- which was nice, she supposed, since everyone could find a place for them in society, but she wonders for a brief moment if she would ever truly fit in here.

Taking a deep breath in, she steels herself and walks towards the bar. She takes a seat and clears her throat as she turns towards the goblin on the other side.

"Hello. Are you... Seedy Wormsburrow?"

Sianfinn may be new to PFS, but I have a little bit of experience under my belt-- however, I am new to PbP.

"That's me!" the friendly goblin behind the bar replies. "Welcome, come on in. What can I get you?"

Welcome to Cottonseed! Keep an eye on the recruitment thread for games being posted. If you mention there that you're new to PbP, often GMs will reserve a spot for someone new to the lodge. You can also find lots of helpful info in this slide deck. Don't hesitate to post any questions you have about PbP in the Discussion tab, too.

Zarina turns to the new arrival and smiles. Hi. I'm Zarina. Wave druid. Welcome to Cottonseed. I take it you're new to the Pathfinders?

A nearby goblin turns in confusion and waves hesitantly.

"But I'm not a druid..." he quietly says.

"Meat and a baked potato would be nice. Chicken is preferable, but I'm not picky. And... I've heard good things of the apple mead around these parts?"

She turns to Zarina and a small but warm smile forms on her face. "Yes, I am new! Fresh out of training, in fact. And I'm a sorcerer."

She chuckles at Grimmylow's comment and waves back. "Hello."

What sort? Zarina asks Fey? Night? Angelic? .... or something I've never heard of?

And yeah ... the Apple Mead. I quite agree

I'm a Wave ... or Aquatic druid, which is what I meant She grins over to the goblin with a 'Gotcha' expression. Been a Pathfinder for ..... erm ... nearly four years now

She's currently dressed as if she's going for a swim sometime soon with the addition of a cloak wrapped around herself.

"The potato will take a little time, but I'll have that mead over to you in just a minute" Seedy says, setting a tuber into the hearth to bake. Hefting a jug from under the counter, he pulls the cork with a faint 'pop!' and fills a mug with the amber liquid inside before replacing the cork and sliding the drink across the bar.

"Draconic, apparently. Which was QUITE a shock to find in the family tree."

A pause.

"I'm, uh, still getting used to this whole 'magical lineage' thing. I... used to be a priest of Razmir and I thought all my magic came from him."

She takes a sip of the mead and smiles.

"This is great! Thanks!"

I take it there has been no evidence of sorcery among your ancestors or siblings then?

"Hey! I'm a priest! Do you know about Sarenrae? She's great! I think you'll like her. What's so great about Sarenrae is that she'll forgive you if you want her to. That's pretty great, I think. Even if you...burned some things down...as a random example, she'll still like you if you tell her you're sorry. I mean, you have to really be sorry. You can't just say it. But if you're really sorry, then she thinks it's ok. Also...she likes fire and that's also pretty great because fire is pretty great."

He holds out a piece of wood that's been charred and scorched but still holds the shape of a winged woman.

Yeah .... I know her. I hold her in high regard .... and Desna. Although my main alliance is to Gozreh - for obvious reasons

"See, that's the thing. My grandfather, from what I can tell, hid or destroyed a lot of his family records, so I never really knew about the sorcerors in his lineage until I went looking for them. And even then they were hard to find. He was a priest too, and I suppose he didn't want anyone else finding out that his magic wasn't divine in origin.

As for siblings, I only have an older brother, and he hasn't shown any real signs of magic. Same goes for my cousins. I guess I inherited the brunt of it."

Sianfinn nods in response to the goblin.

"I've heard of her! It's very nice to have a deity who preaches compassion and healing, after spending a lifetime being taught to bow down to divine oppression. And, yes, I do also hold Desna in high regard, especially as a refugee.

I do also have a soft spot for Irori and Cayden. Much like Sarenrae, Irori's expectation of self-betterment and pursuit of knowledge is a welcome breath of fresh air compared to Razmir's distortion of knowledge and stifling of the individual. As for Cayden Cailean... well, I'm not much of a barfly, but what could be more freeing than celebrating humanity exactly as they are, and to revere the basic joys of life?!"

She takes another sip of her mead and grins.

"Yes, it IS a divine blessing to have a good time!"

LMAO i just realized you're also the person I'm roleplaying with as Alika on the SFS thread... I knew the name Silvermist seemse familiar

Yeah ... I get lazy when it comes to naming characters

Seedy is also a devotee of Csyden Cailean, and I too have no objection to enjoying life, although I'm usually careful not to get drunk. I'm likely to do something silly if I get drunk. I have to admit though, I feel more alive when I'm underwater.

Not familiar with Irori though

"Irori is the god of self-perfection and enlightenment and the pursuit of knowledge and all that. He's often worshiped by monks and by scholars.

I try not to get too drunk, either. I like to keep my wits about me."

"For what it's worth, the Lucky Drunk is all in favor of moderation, and admires self-control in your revelry."

To be honest Seedy, if I get drunk, I'm likely to do stupid things I regret later

"Those other gods are all great, too. Especially Desna. Sarenrae really likes Desna. But Sarenrae is the best..." Grimmylow trails off, a look of mortification on his face.

"I'm not supposed to say she's the best. That's not respectful to other religions."

Then it brightens and he holds up one finger to emphasize his next point. "I mean I think she's the best!"

Further back from the bar, a figure lurks!

A billow of smokey haze unfurls from under a white wooly hood, obscuring the face, whose body seems to be relaxed into a back-leaning posture, sitting comfortably in a chair in a backways booth, alone.

There is a long pause. Then, with some opportunism, a hand seizes a moment to stuff a handsomely carved wooden pipe - well worn! - depositing into the bowl orange-haired sticky-buds of a pungently pleasant odor, which intensifies in aroma as a gentle flame is introduced, the cherry glowing a deep orangish-red, hints of bruorsivi pine wafting into an emanation cleared out by the distance set between the lone figure and the rest of the clientele...

Zarina grins. I've heard the stories about Sarenrae and Desna and all I'm gonna say is good on them. Even Gods should be allowed to have fun. I'm sort of envious though. She sighs.

Still .... who knows what could happen on my next mission.

She sniffs the air. Hm .. whatever I'm smelling, reminds me of the Land of the Linnorm Kings

"Oh yes. And Shelyn, too. The Dawnflower's love is too great for one being, even if that being is a deity!" Grimmylow replies.

He sniffs, too. "Smoke!" he says, excited. But he is clearly disappointed when he looks around and all he sees is someone smoking a pipe. He didn't even see them in time to offer to light it for them.

Shelyn .... remind me who he or she is?

"She's the goddess of beauty, art and music. Her symbol is a bird with a fancy tail," Grimmylow says, dredging up what information he knows about a god that is not Sarenrae.

"Her brother is" his eyes dart around as though looking for him "Zon-Kuthon!"

"Not a great brother-in-law, if you ask me, but Sarenrae is probably hoping to redeem him over family dinners. Or, perhaps kill him after the casserole if he cannot turn from evil."

Having had a good bowl, the ulfen woman stows the various paraphernalia amongst her effects, and leaves her post from the back booth.

Arriving towards the bar now, she slides in between the goblin and druid "Community" she offers "Means that one's family is extended beyond the bounds of blood, marriage, or law. Old Deadeye teaches us so. And even if, in his infinite wisdom, he didn't, we adventurers soon find this out all too well" she winks Grimmylow here.

How old is she? It is her eyes that betray the passage of years, for the rest of her bearing conveys a lightness as of youth. But the eyes? They have seen time's arrow - those subtle wrinkles near the lateral canthus - this despite the redness of their currently relaxed state.

"My name is Gunda, young ones. It is a pleasure to meet yew!" she smiles warmly.

Zarina has to grin at Grimmylow's reply. Wow! That's actually rather interesting she says. Mind you, I'm supposed to know that sort of stuff. Plus I can just see Sarenrae doing that.

According to some stories, Cayden Cailian also got in on the action

"Oh yes! Erastil is also a very good god. Not as good as...I mean, I like Sarenrae better but he is a good god. Perhaps he would be more to your liking, Zarina. But I guess there's not a lot of bow shooting under water."

He squints in thought trying to remember things about gods who are not Sarenrae, which is not easy. It's a little like trying to remember things about water or air or earth, things that are not fire.

"Perhaps but it is my understanding that he is more interested in Calistria."

Hi Gunda. I'm Zarina. And yeah. Community. I guess my family is the Pathfinders now

And no, bows don't work too well underwatee. There are special crossbows that do but it's mostly tridents, spears or magic. Ohhhhhh Calistra .. yeah .. not surprising I suppose. I sometimes pray to Her when I'm feeling low and would like companionship

Minding her own business, a conservatively dressed goblinoid figure nurses a mug and bowl in the corner. She observes the youthful exchange with the warm mirth of years that goblins never see, but makes no comment.

A gnome wanderer makes his way into the lodge, whistling to himself and checking the boards for any job postings.

Zarina glances over at the new arrival.

Zarina glances over at the new arrival.

Colorfoot gives a friendly wave in between checking postings.

Zarina smiles and waves back.

"Welcome, friend! Grab a seat wherever you'd like" the bartender calls to the new arrival. "Something to drink?"

"Welcome, friend! Grab a seat wherever you'd like" the bartender calls to the new arrival. "Something to drink?"

"Got anything with fruit in it?" he asks, climbing up and then plopping down onto a stool.

"Sure, comin' right up!" The goblin scuttles around behind the bar, gathering materials before beginning assembly. He drops a few ripe blackberries into the bottom of a large glass, adding sugar before muddling into a fragrant mash. Adding a hefty pour of clear spirit, a squeeze of lemon juice, and a dash of syrupy, dark purple cordial. Filling the glass with chipped ice, he stirs until a light frost appears, then strains the concoction over ice in a smaller glass, which he slides across the bar. "Here you go! I call it a Bramblebrasher, after some distant cousins of mine."

Zarina watches with fascination.

When you said something with fruit in it she says to the new arrival. I thought you were referring to a berry cider. But I've never seen anything like that before. How strong is it Seedy?

"Stronger than it tastes" Seedy replies with a grin.