DM Barcas - First Steps (PFS) (Inactive)

Game Master Isaac Duplechain

Absalom is the City at the Center of the World. Founded and created thousands of years ago when Aroden, the now-dead god of humanity, raised the Starstone from the depths of the Inner Sea. Hundreds of thousands of souls, of all races and religions, call it their home. Hundreds of thousands more pass through it constantly, with ships sailing from every place in the world to trade their wares. It is a place where anyone can find anything, if they know where to look.

The Pathfinder Society's reach extends throughout Golarion, and no place is it stronger than its headquarters in Absolom. The Society is a loose-knit group of explorers, scholars, and adventurers who seek lost knowledge and ancient treasure. The Grand Lodge is where many of the Pathfinders present themselves for consideration. An immense walled fortress in the heart of Absalom's Foreign Quarter, the Grand Lodge is a network of seven stone fortresses where agents are trained and dispatched. The largest of these fortresses is Skyreach, an enormous five-towered palace that sweeps high above the district. It is a place of wonder and a testament to the power and prestige of the Pathfinder Society, a bastion of knowledge designed to inspire the ideals of the Society in its agents.

A Pathfinder Society has no restrictions on accepting new applicants, though only those who do well enough on the initial tests are allowed to take the oath of the Society and become initiates. Initiates train under the Masters of Swords, Spells, and Lore, until they are deemed ready for their final test to become full field agents. Once successful, the new field agents receive their first assignments from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin, and begin their careers as Pathfinders.

Six of these newly commissioned field agents sit at a circular table in the Venture-Captain's antechamber waiting for him. The table is a heavy oaken table with the three duties of the Pathfinder carved into its surface in every language imaginable: 'The first duty is to explore mysteries of the world. The second duty is to report the findings uncovered in pursuit of the first duty. The third duty is to assist and cooperate with other agents to ensure the success of the first and second duties.' These six Pathfinders know each other by sight, having gone through training around the same time, but do not know each other particularly well.

Please introduce yourself to the others, including a visual description. Once everyone has done so, we can move on to the mission proper.

Even in Dasiji's own native land, the government that he worked for and the people that he guarded were of a different culture, thanks to colonization by Chelaxians. So, he is accustomed to feeling out-of-place and does not hesitate to break the ice.

The serious-looking Mwangi smiles brilliantly, like the equatorial sun shining through a break in the clouds. Greetings, all. My name is Dasiji Lekaya. I am an Ijo from Desperation Bay, and recently a Sargavan Guard. I know how to survive in the wilderness, navigate where there are no roads, deal with poison and disease, subdue the unruly, and kill the deadly. I am pleased to meet you all and hope that we will suit each other well. Dasiji lowers his head and gestures with his right hand, indicating that he is done.

Zavac, easily being the youngest at the table, looks at each of the men in turn, careful not to let his sad, yellow eyes linger too long at any particular Pathfinder. Ah, another half-orc, he muses to himself, noting the tusks and off-green tint that match his own. Perhaps I won't feel so alone. But, you never know...HOrcs can be just as volatile as their full-blooded counterparts.

Zavac's shaved head glistens in the light cast off by the torches (sunlight?), whilst his rather poor attempt at a beard, coal black, seems to mock from below. Carefully reading the familiar etched words in wood before him, he subconsciously allows his fingers to trace the etches in his own skin. Trial, error, trial, error. The gauntlets, scale mail and white robe cover the majority of the healed lacerations; he cannot hide those upon his face. Still, despite his awkwardness, he wears those with a certain pride.

Being only 17, and taking mostly after his human ancestry, his legs barely reach the ground while in this seat made for men. Merely 5'5, he had been shunned by most of the Orcs he had run into, and due to his Orcish "flaws", most humans had strayed slightly further. The scars that cover his body only add to this, but you'd be surprised. Never judge a book by it's cover. The most ragged usually have the most interesting tales to tell. He hadn't had much problems regarding what runs through his blood once he had made it to Absalom, but still. The looks he sometimes received from the other initiates...

As the words from the seemingly charismatic Mwangi end, Zavac takes cue. Shooting forth his best smile, however unnatural it appears, "Well, my name is Zavac. You all look familiar...". He trails off, becoming suddenly self conscious. Talking was never his forte. Although, you say someone needs to be scared into something? Well, he knows that card, and how to play it. All too well.

Dotted. Mwhahahahaa.

One of the Taldans flashes a toothy smile and gestures with a small wave of his hand. "Quintus Valorian of Taldor. Oppara, specifically. The name usually gives it away, but... well... heh heh..." he trails off as he glances at the others at the table with a slightly disparaging look, "Let's just say you all don't seem the artsy type. Nothing wrong with that! I'm sure we'll get along just fine." Just keep smiling... could be worse, right? At least I wasn't paired up with a smelly, greedy Qadiran.

Quintus is young as well at barely 20, but his strikingly handsome face gives him a more mature look than fits his personality. He wears an ostentatious jacket, the placement of every frill and fold precisely where it should be. Under this is a dark, polished suit of leather armor studded with glimmering bits of silvery metal. A rapier hangs at his side, its hilt worked into an ornate floral shape, along with a coiled whip. You can also make out the wooden stock of a crossbow above Quintus's shoulder.

"Well in any case... I, for one, am looking forward to a real assignment for once! All those years training at home just to find more training here... couldn't even make an exception for me!"

Astyannax looks around the table, noticing that the others are young, like himself. Guess that makes sense for beginning Pathfinders.

His scale mail is a dull grey, not the highly polished silver one would expect from his Taldoran features. A battered wooden shield rests against the wall behind him, a heavy crossbow laying on the floor beneath it. A longsword, the pommel unscarred, hangs from his belt on one side and a somewhat worn mace on the other.

His forearms are knotted with muscle and indicate great strength. When he entered the room he had moved with the easy grace of a calvalryman.

It's fair to say he is handsome, with wavy black hair a bit long in the back but cut short in the front. He sits straight, no slouching, and seems to be the tallest of the bunch.

It's hard to miss the silver clasp, shaped like a longsword, that holds his dark blue cloak together at his throat and gleams in the torch light.

He nods at his new companions as he rubs his clean-shaven chin.

My name is Astyannax and I hail from Taldor as well, though I much prefer Absalom. What little I saw of it before we were locked up here in the Lodge.

He chuckles.

I hope this is a real assignment. I feel like we've been training for years. I've read more books about more things in the past few months than I can remember. Thank goodness the tests around here are more physical than mental.

He shakes his head. Reading is not his forte, unless it's about Aroden.

Looks like we may be a team.

Of decidely mixed talents. He thinks with a small grin.

Any idea what they've called us in here for?

He looks about, hopefully.

The way Kehl sits, he look almost folded in on himself beneath the cloak and hood he wears.

His face is unshaven, lean, and his eyes cast furtive glances at the others around the table. A finger, shaking ever so slightly, picks at a scab on his chin. His voice carries the fading traces of a Varisian accent.

"Kehl. I am... Kehl."

Here he pauses as if to continue, his fingernail digging into his chin. He exhales sharply and shrugs, letting the introduction stand.

The last to arrive, Garauk surveyed the room as he slowly made his way to an empty seat. The light glittered of the freshly polished scales of his armor, a sharp contrast to his dirty green skin. Easily visible as he passed by, a might great axe hung from his back and those who had seen him spar knew too well the power he could put behind each swing of that deadly weapon.

At last it appears I am deemed worthy, but for what task?

Lowering himself into his seat, Garauk quickly sizes up the others, scowling at Quintus' self importance, before resting his gaze on Zavac.
"Garauk Pathseeker, of no land or tribe I care to claim." His voice is gruff and he practically spits the word 'tribe'.

Finally tearing his gaze from the half-orc, Garauk turns to Astyannax
"If it means getting out of this damned city, I care little for the reason."

Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin walks into the room with no preamble or warning, responding to Garauk as he strides in. "You won't be leaving Absalom for this mission. Hopefully you'll get to see it in a better light, Pathseeker." He looks around at the assembled group for a few moments, then waves them into his office. There is a massive map on the wall, beautifully designed in its cartography and calligraphy, with hundreds of small arrows piercing it. Tied to the fletching of each arrow is a piece of parchment with small writing in what appears to be a self-designed text.

Valsin walks up to one of them marking Absolom and pulls it out of the wall, reading it for a minute. He then heads over to his desk, a massive oaken slab with dozens of drawers, and pulls an envelope from one of the drawers. "All right, Pathfinders. Listen up. I know you are new recruits eager to make names for yourselves in the organization, but first we need to make sure you are up to snuff and won't get yourself killed out there." He gestures to the map with a jerk of his head. "I have a number of small assignments for you all, and it would be best if you could finish them befor the day's end. Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some sniveling bootlicker willing to do anything to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It's rough out there and I'm not just walking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness. Pathfinders find themselves in on missions. We've got people who look down on their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we have collected. This wealth of knowledge and these items of lore make us the most powerful organization on the planet. That said, since we are fractured and widespread, it's difficult for that power to light on anything for too long. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies." This speech has a practiced air to it, as if he has given it hundreds of times.

"Your first mission, to test your mettle and loyalties, sends you to meet a few people important to the Society living here in Absalom. These are other Venture-Captains or close allies of our organization, so follow their orders as you would mine. I've prepared a list of things that I want you to do. They're not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. Only report to me once you complete them all. Included in this envelope is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location." He holds the envelope out for any of the group to take.

Dasiji ponders the speech for a moment to make sure that he understands, then gets up, walks over to the verbose Venture-Captain, and takes the proffered envelope. "Thank you sir. I am glad for the opportunity, and I hope to finish this test and be back here by the end of the day." He opens the envelope and begins to read the list.

There are four items on the list, written in the same handwriting as the pseudo-language of the assignments. Fortunately enough, it is written in Common instead of whatever cypher Valsin uses. Dasiji reads the instructions and shows them to the others.

Dasiji puzzles through the instructions. "Medicine sounds important. I would do that first. Are we to delve the Salhar vaults ourselves, or just obtain the charter and maps?"

Venture-Captain Valsin leads them out of his office back into the antechamber. "You got a boat to Osirion? It's a simple pick-up mission. If the delve mission is still on the board when I think you're ready for it, we can talk about it. Until then, part of your missions is going to be figuring things out for yourself. There's no one to hold your hand in the field, which is something you've got to get used to." He closes the door behind them, leaving them standing in the room with the circular table.

Kehl listens intently. The corner of his mouth twitches as he ascertains the first of their assignments from the discussion between Valsin and Dasiji.

Same errands, different master... he thinks, as he follows the group.

Hopefully the company is an improvement.

After Valsin's speech, Quintus quirks an eyebrow at the Venture-Captain with a disdainful expression. "Meet important people? Sounds like more errand running. I thought the whole purpose of the training was to prove myself. Oh very well, let's have a look then..."

He peers at the letter held by Dasiji and quickly reads through the list of tasks, his eyes opening in interest at the mention of ancient Osirian vaults. Oh, the stories that might be found there! If there's one good thing that can be said about the Keleshites, it's that they can write a top notch tale.

His interest fades at the mention of visiting the estate of a Chelish... paracountess?... whatever that is. Definitely not good.

Quintus addresses the group after Valsin leaves, "Well. This should be no more complex than an Andoran play. 'Freedom good!' and all that. Any order should suffice, so I'll go with whichever you decide. I prefer to lead on the stage, not off." On anyone less attractive, his grin would be positively cheesy.

Dasiji blushes and holds his tongue as Valsin says his piece and leaves. So I don't know where Sothis is... Hearing that Quintus doesn't care about the order, he offers his opinion to the rest. "I think Zadrian's medicine first, since it could make a difference to someone; then Salhar next while we're fresh, since it sounds delicate. Dralneen after that, since we want something from her, and people get testy when you bother them late; so Karela last. Does that sound good?"

As Valsin leaves, Garauk ponders his words. True, this city and these people have been more tolerant than the others. We will do your errands, let me see how our "Allies" react

Hearing Dasiji propose a plan of action"Let us get on with this, this Temple of the Shinning Star should be easy enough to find" With that stated he heads for the door.

Kehl sizes up the Taldan showman.

He seems to enjoy hearing himself speak, he notes.

Knowledge: Local1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Hearing the name 'Temple of the Shining Star,' Kehl tries to recall what he's heard of it, and the district it calls home.

That Garauk is a charming one. Though Quintis is not as charming as he thinks.

He waits until the letter is passed over to him and reads the assignments, a flat expression on his face. He hears Dasiji's suggestion but waits until Valsin has left the room to speak.

I have no interest in Sarenrae's needs. But a task is a task. If we start there, let us follow next with whatever is closest by.

He straps his shield and crossbow to his back and moves towards the door. [/i]Doesn't look like a lot of teamwork coming with this bunch. Guess I'll just have to impose some order.[/i]

Knowledge Religion 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

Sarenrae is popular here in Absalom, thinks Astyannax as he searches his memory for anything about the Dawnflower that might be of help.

Quintus follows the others, marching to the door purposefully with his head held high. "To the temple! Let us begin our long and arduous journey to the Ascendant Court, where we will play the role of deliverymen of epic proportions! Surely, our heroic deeds will be praised throughout Absalom, nay, Golarion itself!"

After this grand procalamtion, he turns to everyone with a sheepish wince. "Too much? Sorry... Tend to get carried away... stop me if it happens again."

Zavac is the last to read the letter. After reading it, and hearing the banter between the others, he smiles grimly to himself. Yes, let us go do Sarenrae's bidding.

"Sarenrae's temples are a place I know well. I have yet to see the one here, so this should be an interesting visit."

He gathers his flail from the ground beside him, straps it onto his back, slings his crossbow at his side, and follows the others. There certainly is no love lost between Her and this lot. Let's see what happens when they find out of my circumstance.

With the group apparently settled on heading to the Temple, they exit the Grand Lodge. Fortunately, the Ascendant Court is not particularly far from the Foreign Quarter (at least in terms of Absalom's geography). The Ascendant Court is both the geographical and metaphorical heart of Absalom, the centerpiece of the city's religious faith and the hub of its great thoroughfares. Piety is the order of the day here, but as just about every cult has its own definition of fate, the Ascendant Court is just as diverse (and in its own way, dangerous) as any of Absalom's districts. The district's populace range from the poor, penniless wretches looking for something to believe in along the Avenue of the Hopeful to sanctimonious manor lords crowing in from the opulent Petal District, their personal palaces encroaching ever more closely on the holiest sites of their beloved gods. The district's guard, the Greycloaks, is composed entirely of incorruptible atheists sworn to protect the quarter against unrest.

Perception1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Kehl keeps a habitually wary eye out as they traverse the city, looking for threats and avenues of escape, and searching for another sign of the observer he glimpsed when they left the lodge..

Beneath his cloak, his left hand rests comfortably on the pommel of one of his blades.

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 14

Quintus walks confidently through the city streets, feeling more at home striding through grand avenues than within the confines of the Grand Lodge's walls. Something in the crowds catches his eye, but he turns his head a second too late to see what it was. Shrugging it off as just the usual bustle of a city, he follows his companions silently, sparing them another wordy monologue... for now.

Dasiji grins at Quintus's show. "No, it is good to keep a sense of humor. I learned in the Guard that someone has to do the uh... *simple* jobs and it might be you, so sometimes you can't take yourself and your work seriously at the same time." He shrugs. "I think it's better to do a good job and poke fun at yourself than to slack off and whine, when those are the choices."

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Dasiji smiles at a stranger and starts to wave, then loses sight of her. So many people, and almost all of them just ignoring us! You could get lonely in a crowd, here.

As the group exits the Grand Lodge, Zavac stays behind everyone. Close enough to hear what they're saying, but far enough away to avoid direct conversation.

His thoughts are distracting him from what goes on around him, focusing his mind on the plot to unravel. This group is...interesting, at best. Seems like I'm not the only loner here, though. It shall be quite the adventure working together. And the temple...it's been so long since I've set foot in one. I wonder how Sarenrae's other faithful shall take my new appearance....I wonder if they know about any others whom have the same "deal" as I.

Trailing behind the others, he is content to be lost in his own world as they head towards their first appointed place of interest.

perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Despite the time spent training, Garauk's senses have dulled little from his time in the wilds. He easily marks a redhaired woman watching them, before the crowded steets swallow her among the masses.
Hunting one among so many people is an added challenge, yet our large group will be an easy target, I do not like this

lowering his voice, "Did you see that woman watchign us? We may have already attracted attention, let us hope it is not unwanted"

Dasiji smiles cheerfully. "Yes, she was pretty wasn't she? Too bad it's so crowded, I'd have liked to say hello."

"Just be ready for the worst." Kehl mumbles at Garauk.

He continues to scan the crowd, dropping to the back of the group to watch for followers.

Perception1d20 ⇒ 7

Astyannax turns his head at Garauk's comment but sees nothing. Huh?

He returns his gaze foward. He walks in the middle of the group, inwardly sighing at the lack of discipline.

Well, we are just walking through the city. Maybe there will be some kind of order when we need it. Or so I hope.

It seems unlikely we would attract attention. But keep an eye out. Venture Captains are known for not telling operatives all the details.

He takes in the sights and sounds of Absalom, happy to be out of the compound again.

Now, if I could just get time to ride...

"A mismatched group like us? Unlikely to attract attention? Hahaha... I don't know if I've seen a more diverse crowd, even on the streets of a city like this. Besides, I'm used to attention. What's wrong with a little more?"

Quintus turns to Dasiji, nudging him in the side with an elbow and muttering under his breath just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Especially from a pretty face, eh? If that's what Garauk calls unwanted, I'm sure we can find a temple of Shelyn to change his mind... haha!"

Brow furrowed slightly in concern, Dasiji looks at Garauk to see if he heard, and shoulder-bumps Quintus gently, hissing quietly. "Be kind friend, not everyone is so used to attention being a good thing. I'm sure you know more stories than I do about pretty girls and half-orcs."

The walk to the Temple of the Shining Star does not take long, especially moving through the dense population of Absalom. As they arrive, they are immediately directed to Ollysta Zadrian. The paladin of Sarenrae is young in her years, but holds herself with the poise of a queen and a warrior simultaneously. As she notices the Pathfinders' arrival, she strides forward and addresses the group with a strong voice. “Thank the light of Sarenrae you have arrived! I knew Ambrus would come through for us in the Silver Crusade. I desperately need you to bring medicine to an orphanage and let me know if the headmistress, Gilga Baltwin, is deserving of our charity. Since our quest began, the needy have clamored for our aid, and I suspect some are abusing our generosity. It may sound cruel, but there are plenty of dishonest people out in the world eager for easy gold."

She stops for a moment, looking at each of them individually. “Do you know of the Silver Crusade? After discovering so many factions splintered the Society, a number of us banded together to proliferate the cause of charity and kindness using the Society’s resources. As it is said, ‘The Dawn brings new light’ and I’ve made it my life’s work to use our recent darkness to bring a new light to the world and to the Pathfinder Society. I apologize for straying off point. Will you bring this parcel of medicine to Auntie Baltwin’s Home for Recovery in the Eastgate district?” She holds out a small wooden parcel, a simple item with no frills, for one of them to take.

Kehl takes the package, and it disappears into his cloak. He nods to Ollysta, and turns, moving to exit rather hastily.

"Let's be on our way."

Perception1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

When he is outside, he looks out into the crowd, searching for the woman again.

Garauk visibly bristles, but does not turn to face the Taldan "Only a fool is deceived by appearances, even the most beautiful flower can be deadly. And were I in search of a mate, I would not sink to paying for one."

Garuak quickens his pace, eager to reach their destination. After listening to the Paladin's tale, he nods. We shall see if she is a woman honor. If she fails that test, shall we deal with her?" His voice is gruff, as always, and his expression leaves most wondering what he intended by that question.

Astyannax watches Kehl hurry out the door and sighs.

He mutters loud enough to be heard but is not speaking to anyone specifically. What is it with people rushing out of rooms?

He goes to the door and calls out Kehl! Get back in here. We're talking.

Then he steps back near the middle of the room and addresses the remaining four.

We are not a pack of wild dogs running loose. We are a group that is supposed to work together. Perhaps a little planning or some strategy might be of use before we descend upon the orphange, looking like a raiding party?

He looks at Quintus. You seem to enjoy the sound of your voice and use a lot of flowery talk. Maybe you should speak first.

Now looking at the other three. What say you? I don't think we'll be spilling a lot of blood at an orphanage.

At least, I hope not.

He waits for responses.

After the Paladin's speech, Zavac nods. "We shall do our best, Sister. I shall make sure of that. And this Silver Crusade. I must be back to hear more." Nodding, "Sarenrae's light be upon you."

Again watching the banter between his new group, he speaks up for the first time in confidence. "There will be no spilling of blood, especially at such a place as an orphanage. If there is, the one responsible shall have me to answer to. Sarenrae's fire cleanses all, and I am a finger of that flame."

After his rather bold comment, for him anyway, Zavac pushes out his chin, his yellow eyes shifting from one to the other of his companions, to see if any would oppose his zeal.

Huh...throw Zavac into Sarenrae's direct work, and he becomes a Paladin...don't worry, it's only for the work of his Goddess that he has such passion. He's NG...and this curse is KILLING me. Charisma out the ***, and yet I'm abrasive, 'cause "my body is decomposing".

Kehl follows Astyannax closely back into the church.

"Do you treat all mundane tasks as if they were military strategy?" he hisses. "It is simple enough. We deliver the medecine. We make sure this Gilga is not bilking this church and the Pathfinder Society while keeping aid from those who need it. And then we move on to our next assignment. I'll be outside. I fear we are being followed."

He hands the package to Astynnax and moves back outside to wait and watch.

As Kehl quickly grabs the package and exits with Astyannax hot on his heels, Quintus turns to Ollysta and shrugs apologetically.

Taking 10 on Diplomacy to improve her attitude (just in case!): 10 + 7 = 17

"My lady, despite initial appearances, I assure you we are capable of ensuring that this medicine reaches the orphanage safely, and we will ascertain the integrity of said headmistress. Who are we to deny a request from a beautiful woman such as yourself, it would..." Catching the sight of Astyannax returning from the door, Quintus cuts himself short and finishes with a slight bow.

After the cavalier's request, Quintus frowns in mock innocence, "Me? Enjoy the sound of my voice? What gives you that idea?" His frown melts into an amused grin, however, and he nods in agreement. "But You're right, a little planning is a nice thing. 'Stick to the script!' as my teachers always said."

Astyannax turns to Ollysta.

Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Smiles. Please forgive my rudeness.

My bad. I thought she had left the room.

The paladin Silver Crusader nods serenely at Astynnax. "It is not a problem. I'm glad that you approach things cautiously. In my time as a Pathfinder, I have seen to many of my brethren leap into the fray without thinking. You may wish to be more diplomatic with your allies. We are all in this together, trying to make this a better world for all to live in."

She addresses Zavac with a smile. "Please, I would love to explain the Silver Crusade's goals to you. Anyone filled with the zeal of Sarenrae, or Iomedae, or Shelyn or Desna or any of the gods who look upon us with blessings, is welcome to join in our desire to help those less fortunate." Her kind words towards Zavac are proof of that, being one of the few people in recent times who has not shied away or ignored him based on his appearance. "When you are done with your missions, perhaps. I know you've got a busy day ahead of you, based on the sort of missions that Ambrus enjoys sending the new recruits on."

Wasn't sure if anyone else wanted to say anything, but since it's been over a day figured I'd put up something.

Quintus listens to the paladin politely, but also impatient to continue with their task. Shelyn's all well and good... but 'filled with zeal?' Nah. Now Calistria... that's a different story! His mind wanders to various parties attended by servants of the Lady of the Room. Thankfully, he remembers where he is before any... embarrassment... occurs.

"Ahem! So! Orphanage! Medicine! Let's be off to the Eastgate, yes? Pay this Auntie Baltwin a visit?"

"Yes, let's do that." Dasiji smiles easily at Quintus's suggestion after going kind of blank at the discussion of irrelevant deities.

all this talk of gods, shall I too claim one as my own? I think I shall return someday to learn more, but I feel my answers lie elsewhere.

Catching the paladin's gaze, Garauk bows slightly, never letting his gaze drop."You show.us honor with your offer, now must earn your faith, good day"

Knowledge: Local check (taking 10: 15

As he watches the streets outside, Kehl ruminates over what he knows of the Home for Recovery or it's mistres, Auntie Baldwin.

He shifts impatiently, eager to move on.

The trip to Auntie Baltwin's Home for Recovery is quick and without issue, arriving there not long after leaving the temple of Sarenrae. They arrive to find that the place appears clean and in good condition considering the number and ages of its inhabitants, though it is nearly swarming with cats and children. Three young boys shoot marbles in the dirt near the side porch, and inside strewn toys and more cats lie about on the floors. A few children take care of chores, while coughs and sneezes softly erupt from the children's dormitories above.

An old crone sits on the front porch, stroking a gray cat that sits on her lap. She eyes the approaching group, clearly Pathfinders by their motley and armed appearance, and gives them a shout. "Oy! You bring me the medicine my kids need? It's about time! Hurry it up!"

Before arriving, Kehl will have made known what he has heard of this woman in the past.

"This woman, Baltwin, is not exactly an angel. Many praise her for her efforts with orphans, but she keeps a local merchant's liquor trade flourishing, and can be... demanding. As to whether she is what Zadrian fears she may be? I know not."

When they arrive, and she snaps at them, Kehl smirks.

"As promised..."

lol... ninja'ed by 3 seconds!

Quintus squints and taps his mouth in thought after Kehl says what he knows about this Baltwin character. "Hm... if I can get us inside, maybe you can slip away and have a look around? Don't think being a boozer is a crime, just not the best pastime when you run an orphanage, I'd say. Although... if I had to deal with all those kids..."

Diplomacy 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

When they arrive, Quintus smiles as he approaches who he assumes is the headmistress. "Hullo, are you Miss Baltwin? If so, we do have the medicine you requested. Though, might I first ask what troubles your children? I'm no good at the healing arts myself, but there's a chance some of us may be able to help. At the very least, I know some stories I'm sure the kids would love."

Sense Motive 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2... I'll believe anything she says!
Perception 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

Though his demeanor is kind, Quintus is suspicious of the old woman. Probably cares more for the cats than the kids, the old hag. Not even a word of thanks for the medicine! Hmph. He also glances around the orphanage in an attempt to determine the condition of the children, but he is too preoccupied to notice anything.

At Quintus's mention of the possibility of them helping with healing, Dasiji bows slightly, right hand gesturing in front of his chest. So diplomatic! Maybe we won't have to threaten to withhold the medicine to make her let us check the place out, after all. "I am trained in healing. I would be honored to have a tour; or if you're too busy, I could look for myself and see if there's anything I can do for the children."

Dasiji loves the water. Cats don't. He finds them suspicious. Perception: take 10 for 16.

The old crone seems in quite a hurry for that medicine. Sense Motive (untrained): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

was offline yesterday

Astyannax grumbled a bit as the group walked through the streets to the orphanage.

Heavens forfend we have a plan instead of wandering in blindly. No wonder Pathfinders prefer to work alone.

He had planned on asking if any in the group are especially skilled at reading other people, but decides to skip it.

Diplomacy1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Mistress Baltwin. The church of Sarenrae sends you their greetings and the medicine you need for these children.

His words feel flat to him as he utters them. Something about the place seems depressing.

Paizo has the worst-luck dice roller I've ever seen. My percentage of under tens is about 80% since I signed up for a PbP. I figured I'd do better than taking a ten half the time... Yeesh!