DM Carbide's PFS#8-07: From the Tome of Righteous Repose (Inactive)

Game Master John Woodford

Dot here when chosen.

"Happy to be here, folks." Says the man wearing a long leather duster, a low slung cattleman's hat and chewing on a stalk of wheat. He's neither short nor tall, not particularly handsome, but cocky in the way only a cad can be. He's got long stringy brown hair and blue eyes and he smells of gunsmoke, which is explained by the heavily enruned pistol on his belt.

"Name's Shakes. Jeb Shakes. Job's to keep you brainy types alive while we work. Haven't lost one yet, don't intend to start now."

Thieve's Guild Fence/Front/Nightingale Dot!

Yes, Kel is very much based on the Nightingales from Skyrim, and his tavern functions as a fence and a front for the thieve's guild in Absalom. Bigger post coming later. Found he's missing his chronicle from the Year of the Shadow Lodge special a while back, so I still have some purchases to do. Shouldn't be anything that intense.

A half-elf with a confident bearing enters, pale haired, with dusky skin and grey eyes... "Hello, I'm Celidrian, pleasure to meet you all. I guess you'd call me one of the brainy types, Jeb. I'll do my best to pull my weight."

Despite claiming he's one of the brainy types, he's equipped with a short bow and a few quivers full of arrows. As well as the quivers, he's got a couple of wands and some scroll tubes tucked into his belt.

Jeb nods and angles his chin toward the bow and arrows. "Nice armaments. I approve of anyone smart enough to avoid getting close enough to get hit. Though I find I have to use this monster," he taps the greatsword hilt sticking over his shoulder, "More than I like. Some things don't die when you fill 'em with lead. Some things need a good cold iron slicing."

Celidrian nods toward the firearm and it's runic markings. "Sweet gun... I assume you know well how to use it.. I'm impressed... as well by your choice of backup weapon. Let's hope you don't have to use it much during whatever mission we're about to embark upon."

A beautiful man with a stern look on his face, and a shining scimitar at his side joins the team. He stands quietly, shining with the light of the dawn as he listens to the conversation.

"Oh my, now there's a tall drink of water... What a handsome fellow!" Celidrian says quietly to Jeb as Chaul enters the room. "I hope he's as friendly as he looks."

A well dressed man, wearing black dragon-skin leather pants, a crimson noble's shirt, and a long black traveling coat enters the room. At his hip are two rapiers, two bandoliers full of vials and strange packets cross his chest, and pouches adorn his belt. He gives the gathered pathfinders a wry grin, and claps Jeb on the back.
Picture Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time
Well mate, the trick is to make sure your opponent doesn't see you until after you've poked them with the pointy end of your weapon, see? Well, that's how I do it, anyway. Worked out well so far.

He gives a slight chuckle and introduced himself.
Kel Na'Yaa at your service. I'm usually the one they call when there's a lot of locked up stuff, or a lot of traps. My jobs to keep everyone from meeting walls, floors and spikes at alarming rates of speed. Pretty handy in a fight too, if I do say so myself. Trained with Rashek Ironguard in Korvosa. Just make sure you let me go first, right?

He takes a seat, and pulls out a small notebook and starts scribbling away. Anyone close enough can see that it's a log of whiskey deliveries from a Dwarven brewery to his bar, The Laughing Lizard Tavern.

Eyeing up the others, Chaul offers.

"And I'm the one Kel comes to when he missed the tripwire and wants the whole in his chest patched up. The name is Chaul, Chaul Drammerson. Faithful servant of the dawnflower and foe of the dead. I'll be looking after your spiritual needs, and likely as not patching up your body at the same time."

Kel looks up and grins.
Aye, good to have one of you around. You'd be surprised to see how many times that particular situation happens. Those bastards'll be hidden good sometimes. I'll feel better knowing you're behind me.

He returns back to his notebook, and continues his scribing.

A tall and regal looking female elf comes in and says "I heard there was some archaeological mission to go on?" She is armed with a nice elven blade. "The name is Alektara."

Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin has summoned the lot of you to the Grand Lodge. Shaking his head, Valsin hands over a terse message--"Send a party of your best to the Uscalin Lodge. Yr obedient, VC S. Besnik"

"I have no idea what that wastrel wants. It's probably important, though. He doesn't usually ask for anything more than an occasional bit of help bailing him out of trouble. I've made arrangements for your travels."

Not long afterwards, you arrive in the port city of Vellumis, largest city in Lastwall. The Uscalin Lodge happens to be in a gambling hall, the Ace of Dreams, and looking around the occupants you suspect that few, if any, are there on Society business. Venture-Captain Shevar Bresnik, a tall clean-shaven Varisian, meets you as you enter and ushers you into an office off of the common room, closing the door behind you. Loud and raucous conversation continues to filter through the door, but it's muted enough that you can hear Bresnik without any difficulty. He lifts piles of papers and boxes off of his desk, stacking them out of the way on various side tables and chairs. "I know it's here. I was looking at it again right before you got here." His face parts in a toothy grin as he lifts up a solid oak box. "Ha! Found it!" As if to punctuate his discovery, a crowd of players in the hall erupts in cheers. Bresnik pauses, staring at the closed office door. "Desna laughs. Well, She laughs at me, but She smiles on them." He shrugs and taps the box. "All they have is gold; what I have in here is far more valuable."

Sitting down at his desk, he opens the lid with painstaking slowness, keeping the lid between you and the box's contents. With reverence and care, he lifts a large tome from the box and sets it gently on the table. "Careful, the binding hasn't held up well. This is one of the few copies of the Tome of Righteous Repose left in the world. I'm pretty sure there's one in the library of the Sancta Iomedaea in Vigil, but I'm--well, let's just say I'm no longer welcome there. Long story.

"Up until today, I've only skimmed the first few pages. I didn't want to damage it, but now that you're here I can't wait any longer. Care to plumb the depths of this most ancient and wonderful storybook? Oh, the marvelous adventures we'll soon be reading! This tome, if you haven't heard, is a collection of tales describing how various crusaders died gloriously and honorably. In addition to its inspirational value, I'm hoping we can find some clues in the text that will lead us to an as-yet undiscovered site or relic. Maybe we can trade a bit of what we find with the Knights of Ozem and earn ourselves some goodwill. After what happened last time, we need it.

"So, shall we?"

Chaul nods, leaning forward to see the book.

"Who wrote the book? And why, may I ask, are you no loner welcome in the library?"

He looks a little flummoxed however. "Surely you didn't summon us all this way to listen to stories.."

Jeb shrugs. "Sounds excellent, Captain. Reading from rare books never caused any problems whatsoever. I'll just stand back here a bit, if'n you don't mind."

Barging in through the door, pushing a young serving-man away by the face is a tall Taldane man in armor, a rather large crossbow slung across his back. With a rather disquieting smile he chirps out loudly: "My humblest apologies, Venture Captain Valsin sent me along as a reinforcement. Aldebert Dunitee, of the Highland Dunitees, late of the Phalanx... Go away serving boy, your lackadaisical services are not yet required" he barks at the poor boy before slamming the door in his face with a grin that borders on rabid rage. He then turns back around, his face, for the most part, more composed. "As I was saying. Late of the Taldane Phalanx, 3rd Legion, 7th cohort. I trust I didn't interrupt anything important. Agent Drammarson! A pleasure of meeting you again! At least this time we aren't dealing with any Tian mumbo-jumbo or past lives. Only good old fashioned Avistani mysteries." He pauses, his grin faltering slightly. "Why are you gathered around that tatter of a book?"

Gm, before this adventure begins, I would like to purchase 50 cold iron bolts, a holy weapon balm and some muleback cords.

"I must admit I have traveled far and wide for the society but this Lodge is a new one for me. Uscalin Lodge, I wonder if it was named for a person or a battle of great renown." the elf adds to the conversation.

"Aldebert Dunitee...I believe I have heard of you and this other one called Chaul. Your reputations precede you."

"Not the least bit surprising my dear. I am quite the specimen" offers the crossbowman, stroking his mustache while approaching the table. "And your name my dear lady? And why is there a homeless man in that far corner?"

"Ahh.. Aldebert..." smiles Chaul. One can almost see the sigh depart his lungs as the loudmouthed gunslinger enters the room.

"Bring Matelda for another outing? We were just about to have a story read to us."

To Alektara he offers a small bow. "One pray's you heard good things...". A quick glance at the musketeer shows that perhaps not all the feedback has been positive in the past.

"I love old, rare books... and I simply adore reading them... Would you care to read to us aloud, Sir?... Mind if I read over your shoulder? I really would like to see the pages while you read."

Celidrian gives Bresnik his most engaging smile.

"Ah, who wrote the book? A most fascinating gnome, one Rellakarabee Fustbickle. He interviewed dozens of crusaders and recorded the most tragic and heroic deaths reported to him in this book. It wasn't very widely published, for some reason, so it was very difficult for me to get my hands on it. From what I've seen, the poetry is a bit...purple, let us say? Not really my style (I'm more one for romantic poets, if you take my meaning).

"As to why I'm persona non grata at the Sancta, well, I was once the lover of one of the librarians there. A brilliant, insightful woman. The head librarian happened to find her shirking her duties with me in a room of sacred texts, and I was asked to leave shortly thereafter. Very shortly thereafter.

"I named the Lodge after a fellow Pathfinder and good friend--and by 'good friend' I mean 'most bitter rival.' Uscalin owned the hall, you see. I was playing a hand of golem against him here. Well, the snake won a big pot against me, but that smug ba--ah, worthy and noble Pathfinder wanted more. He doubled down and put this very establishment up as collateral. After a prayer to Lady Luck, I won the next pot, and the place has been mine ever since! I started calling it the Uscalin Lodge to get under his skin, and the name stuck."

Kel snaps his notepad shuts and chuckles at the mention of Gnomish Poetry.
Aye mate, books written by gnomes are always a bit... different. Ah well. If the information is good, then what are we waiting for? Let's get ourselves a prize, no?

The man stands, adjusts his rapier, and moves closer to the book.
So, I'm assuming you've found something in there that warrants a team of pathfinders. What did you find, mate? I've been itching to get back into the field and get published into a chronicle!

"Hmm. Indeed. Quite the salacious tale I presume. I have many a salacious tale from my time in the Phalanx myself, but alas I have been asked many times over by Venture Captain Drang not to mention such things during meetings. In deference to his current and past rank I see myself obliged to obey. A pity though. The story of how the squad was forcibly removed from the temple of Calistria is a pretty daring one if I may say so myself" muses the crossbowman. "At any rate, let us let you proceed Venture Captain."

"Wait...wait...wait...wait...wait...this is a gambling hall....surrounded by a bunch of holier than though paladins...how is that possible...?" Alektara asks stunned by her realization.

"Many religions take a more tolerant view to certain acts that others. The dawnflower celebrates.."

He looks hard at Aldebert.

"Yes, there is an "R" in that word. We celebrate new beginnings, and the beginning of life is one of the greatest of all new beginnings. Iomedaea .. well, she values some other things more highly."

He looks to the captain.

"Read on good captain, let us know how we may help."

Jeb shrugs and chuckles slightly at the 'room of sacred text canoodling.'

"Wait...wait...wait...wait...wait...this is a gambling hall....surrounded by a bunch of holier than though paladins...how is that possible...?" Alektara asks stunned by her realization.

The Venture-Captain assumes a haughty air, looking down his nose at the group. "They 'allow its continued existence by their good graces,' but only because they can't legally force me to close it down. Plus, I think they like having all the dirty, underhanded scum in one place so they can keep an eye on us, er, them. Having all the disreputable types in one area does allow me to pick up a good amount of gossip, too. Like the story of Lady Withren...." His voice trails off, and he looks at the ceiling and whistles.

I suppose I should put these out there. This set of spoilers is about the gnome and the Tome.

This set of spoilers is about Lastwall.

Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Religion: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

Replying to the VC she says
"Makes sense since Lastwall was established in 3828 AR, when it seceded from Taldor. This benevolent military dictatorship is primarily focused on keeping the Whispering Tyrant locked away and the orc hordes of Belkzen at bay.

As I understand it the numerous holy warriors here is because Lastwall originated from the remnants of crusaders living in the area after the conclusion of the Shining Crusade, the great war against the evil wizard-king Tar-Baphon sometimes called the Whispering Tyrant, who rose after his death as a lich.
What... I am not just a pretty face you know. I like to read books." Alektara rambles on to the others.

Takes ten on diplomacy for 27
"I seem to recall a bit about Rellakarabee. A poet wasn't he? A tad on the melodramatic side by all accounts. Not really my thing. However he did like to immortalise members of the shining crusade, and one story I heard had him meeting Iomedae before her ascension."

religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

know history, take 10: 10 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ 10 + 8 + (3) = 21

"I've read that lately, Lastwall has had to recruit less pious individuals to fill its ranks. Out on the borders, followers of Gorum and Kurgess are more common than paladins of Iomedae and Sarenrae."

Some further information on Lastwall:

know local: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (18) + 8 + (5) = 31

"Seems that Lastwall is ruled by an elected 'watcher-lord' and run by the military, but not everyone here are knights or even soldiers. While it's generally believed that Lastwall is a nation of paladins and clerics, many of the soldiers aren't very religious and many follow non-good militaristic deities like Gorum. Lots of the people of Lastwall are getting concerned that organized orcs could breach the waning defenses and break through, and Lastwall may cease to exist. And while the majority of the resources guard the borders, dark forces have infiltrated inside the country... Moving resources to deal with these might cause the borders to collapse. It's a tough situation to balance, I'm sure."

feel free to read the spoilers, but that's the gist of them

Chaul nods. "All of which is a concern... but how does that relate to this old book of solider's tails?" asks the ever-practical cleric.

"Will it serve to inspire a new generation of orc-fodder? Or does it hold the secret of a long forgotten weapon that held back the forces of darkness in ages past and could do so again?"

Knowledge Local-Gnome: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20
Knowledge Local-Lastwall: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

"This gnome, I hear he was supposedly on speaking terms with Iomedae herself during the mortal years. Supposedly his poems are based on actual events. There may be some nuggets of truth in them."

Besnik nods. "That's what I'm hoping for. And Celidrian is right--if there's something there that's a potential threat to Lastwall and you're able to deal with it, the Knights will be grateful for the Society's help. Something to shore up our somewhat tarnished reputation here."

"A capital thing then that agent Drammarson and I are experts at restoring tarnished reputations. Or tarnishing them further. A delicate matter overall. Quite" opines Aldebert as he tries to look over everyone's shoulder to read the book's contents.

The Venture-Captain clears a space on his desk and begins to leaf through the ancient tome, moving with care and deliberation. Many of the pages are badly foxed, making it difficult to read more than a few words here and there, but eventually he reveals a two-page spread that is clear of blemish. The verso is a spare line sketch of three samurai in a style you recognize as Minkaian, while the recto has the full text of a poem, the Ode to the Lost (see link above). Besnik starts at this. "Minkai art! Let's see, the Minkai Empire was founded in 3619, and their first explorers didn't reach the west coast of the continent until at least 3691, but that's only sixty years before Taldor declared the Shining Crusade. These women could have been among the first Minkaians to erach the Inner Sea! Let's see what the poem says!"

"Never heard of this Mordesha. Anyone else know it?"

"Mordesha? I'm not even sure whether it's the name of a place or a person. Are the samurai the heroes evoked by the poem? Wherever these terrible events took place holds the answers to our mystery. Once we can verify the location, we can share the information with the Knights of Ozem. While you're checking into the location, remove any dark force that may still haunt the place--I have a ritual here that can unravel such things." Besnik searches through his office, eventually producing a small sealed scroll case.

Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

Ive heard tale of this a time or two in the tavern, mates. Tar-Baphon used the corpses of slain crusaders as new "recruits" for his undead armies. Smart on his part. Maybe that's what the ode means.

Local: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

"Wait, maybe Mordesha is the name of one of the hidden crypts the crusaders used to hide their dead in to protect them from necromancers. If we found the location of an intact tomb, that would be quite a find!"

"Such foul necromancy... it is a good thing the Tyrant is once again chained." seethes Chaul.

He looks to the VC "I would be keen to learn this ritual, and if we can find these knights final rest, I am happy to check that no forces of darkness trouble them."

"Take the scroll with you. It's ritual magic, so you'll need to have some basic knowledge of faith, the arcane, other planes, and the like to use it effectively."

After reviewing the poem and considering it further, you may have additional insights.

know local dc 15: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + 8 + (1) = 15

know geography dc 22: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 8 + (2) + 2 = 17

"While I'm not as well-versed in matters of faith as I'd like to be, I do have some background in the arcane and knowledge of other planes. Surely I can at least assist in those areas."

Survival: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 16

"Well homeless man, I have no clue where you claim this information about Mordesha being a place, but I can only assume that you have some insights that are tied to your vagrant condition. Perhaps we should ask another kind of vagrants altogether: librarians. They call themselves people of learning, pah! Let us put their knowledge to the test I say. Of course, we should attempt to cajole them and not rile them. Those dirty folk take offense to just about anything."

So with that said, could we justify using Diplomacy as a gather information check with a specific audience (in this case: librarians)?

"All of this is rather disturbing... ah the life of a pathfinder does make for interesting stories. So we can expect grave danger ahead. "

Geography: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 6 + 2 = 24

"If I recall while several old documents reference a town named Mordesha, it appears on no surviving official maps. There is a fire-blackened field some 46 miles north of Vellumis with a few tall cairns called Yua's Fingers, and I know that Yua is a Minkaian woman's name. Don't ask how I know; just take my word for it. Locals believe it to be an ancient druidical site, fouled by evil magic; it's also rumored to be haunted. The only road that passes near it detours a mile around it for no apparent reason. Could that be the place?"

"That sounds like the kind of place they might put things. If there was a warding to keep people away, that could explain the detour in the road." agrees Chaul.

"Let us pack for a trip and be off!"

He carefully takes the scroll with the ritual and places it securely in his baggage.

"Indeed! Let us make our way towards yet another Tian mystery" says Aldebert testily.

"Before you leave, I have a few other things you might find useful on the trip." Besnik digs around in his desk, eventually producing a traveler's any-tool, a wand of cure serious wounds with 7 charges remaining, a wand of protection from evil with 7 charges remaining, a +1 holy crossbow bolt, and a +1 holy bullet. After he's handed the items over, his apparently habitual air of insouciance disappears, and he turns serious. "Listen, I don't know if you've been to Lastwall before, but there are things here, terrifying things, left over from Tar-Baphon and the Shining Crusade. I have a bad feeling about this Mordesha place. If you run into powerful undead, or something like that, don't get the idea that you have to fight your way through them under some kind of time limit. If you're getting tired, running low on resources, retreat and rest. Got it?" He grins. "Good luck, then, and remember: explore, report, cooperate! See you when you get back!"