DM Dr Evil's PbP PFS - Master of the Fallen Fortress (Inactive)

Game Master DM DoctorEvil

We should probably each buy (at least) one scroll of CLW for the next scenario.

If we are going to rest for the night, this room will work fine. We can secure the stairs, keeping looters from entering. We could also use some of the beds to try and blockade the doors. The only real problem I see is the damn smell from these creatures.

"Hey scrawny wizard, can you presto-digify this place? Clean it up a bit?" Orovan asks of Ruinor.

"Rest is always good. A bit to eat and maybe we take turns on guard. I'll take the first watch of a few hours as I seem to be the least bloodied.

Ruinor glances over at the half-orc with a look of contemplation on his face. "I'm afraid I didn't bother learning parlor tricks. I didn't find them very useful. We'll have to clean this place up a little the old fashioned way. I'm not sure how much it will help with the smell though." He then uses his staff to prod the beds, apparently not wanting to touch them with his hand.

It does not seem like you'll get much rest in this chamber which still reeks of troglodyte. You may want to backtrack to a safe place, or carry forward and see if you can find a better alternative.

"An intermission would most definitely be in order," Maximilian agrees, "but I am most certainly not touching one of those horrible things. I would sooner sleep on the floor downstairs."

Considering the stench of this room Aarion proposes another option. “I think we should backtrack to the room we just came from and set camp there."

(Assuming no one objects.)

Aarion gathers his things and begins leading the group back down the stairs.

Silverback nods and joins Aarion.

Orovan goes along. "Wasn't this my idea in the first place?"

Ruinor follows the others back down the stairs. "That's fine with me. I don't think I could sleep in that room anyway."

Retreating a bit to the temple of Nethys, the group sets up camp, to rest. The night is uneventful, with no intrusion or alarm raised, although a few of you hear the sounds of feet passing on the stairs outside, and once the mournful howl of a wolf raises the hairs on the back of your necks.While not the safest or most comfortable place to sleep, all the explorers get some rest, healing a few wounds, and restoring the magic need to ply their craft.

We will fast forward to morning, if you changed your spell inventory, please let me know what you have taken for this new day.

I will reset the same spells for the day. Do you require us to remove a days food and water?

Once everyone has had some rest, Aarion gathers his belongings and heads back up to the troglodyte room and inspects the two remaining doors.

Perception door (1): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Perception door (2): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

HMMmmmmmm ^

I'm taking CLW for both my spells today.

A new day dawns and the halls of this place seeks our presence. We have goods to find my friends so eat and lets move it.

"I hope today is a bit more entertaining than yesterday" Maximilian grumbles. "And less painful," he adds, examining the state of his wound.

From the door to the south, Aarion hears the sound of someone moving about the room, without much care to be quiet. The banging of metal implements or weapons is heard frequently as is harsh spoken words in Draconic, mostly curses and mumbles.

No sounds are heard from the north door.

Assuming no traps are found.

Aarion puts his finger to his lips and makes the universal signal for the rest of the group to remain quiet. Once everyone is comfortable with their position, Aarion opens the south door.

Orovan draws a pair of wooden stakes and prepares himself for battle.
Martial Flexibility: weapon focus(wooden stake)

Jos moves closer ready to unlock the door if needed. He takes a quick look at the door for traps before Aarion tries to open.

Trap Check: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Orovan draws a pair of wooden stakes and prepares himself for battle.

Martial Flexibility: weapon focus(wooden stake)

Expecting vampires there Van Helsing?

The door to the south is neither locked nor trapped, and as Aarion opens it, he sees that a brazier of glowing coals sits in the center of this room, its acrid smoke mixing with the ever-present troglodyte stench.
A few knives, pokers, and other metal implements lie atop a rusty iron box nearby.

Inside the room, standing at the brazier, is the single biggest troglodyte any of you have ever seen, a large cudgel in his hand. It hisses as you enter "Two legssssss, the master will not like intrudersssss, but I do! I like to beat them sssssensssslesssss. My ccccellssss will hold more!" And he leaps to attack.

Tulok - Round 1

22 Josnavaarin
17 Orovan
15 Aarion
8 Silverback
6 Ruinor
5 Tulok
4 Maximilian

The whole party (except Max) is up first. Everyone also needs DC 13 Fort saves again, or be sickened. Not sure my guy will survive to his action, but we'll see if the dice gods favor you or not in this fight.

Silverback, unable to reach the large creature, instead orders Splittooth to attack.

handle animal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

fort save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

The young, untrained dinosaur enters the room to attack, but does not know what to do when the stench overwhelms it.

fort save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

bite: 1d20 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 - 2 = 91d6 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 - 2 = 5

Fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

I don't know what I thought I was going to do with these wooden stakes. Might as well go for broke!
Orovan steps into the room and flings his stakes wildly, hoping for something awesome.

TWF without TWF, throwing into melee, at 2nd range increment. Because what the heck.
Wooden Stake: 1d20 + 4 - 4 - 4 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 4 - 4 - 4 - 2 = 14, Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Wooden Stake: 1d20 + 4 - 8 - 4 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 4 - 8 - 4 - 2 = 10, Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
WAT
Confirm 1: 1d20 + 4 - 4 - 4 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 4 - 4 - 4 - 2 = 8, Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Confirm 2: 1d20 + 4 - 8 - 4 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 4 - 8 - 4 - 2 = 10, Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

"Die smelly scum!" Orovan shouts as he lands two blows with incredible precision.

Tulok - Round 1 - concluded

Silverback orders his pet to attack, and while the pet complies, the smelly trogolodyte causes Splittooth to retch rather than attack.

Exploding into the room, armed only with two wooden staves, Orovan throws the improvised weapons across the room at the sole target. The throws are incredibly well aimed, striking the enemy in the eye, and the neck. Combined the staves create lethal damage to the target which drops only seconds after the door opens.

End of Combat

Sheesh, overwhelming force against my lowly target. Talk about overkill...With those rolls you could've killed him with a sheet of paper and a roll of duct tape...

Orovan stands back to let everyone else admire his work.
Wooden stakes are just daggers for characters with more carry capacity than loose change.

After hearing the trog speak, Ruinor watches as Orovan runs into the room wielding two stakes. "What does he plan on doing with those?" he thinks to himself. As Orovan lets the stakes fly from his hands, Ruinor moves closer to door only to hear a crash and then sudden silence. Reaching the doorway, he sees an incredibly large troglodyte sprawled on the floor with both spike protruding from his head.

"Wow, Orovan, nice job. I'll have to remember never to play darts against you in tavern."

Well done Orovan. Your skill with those sticks is impressive.

With the eminent threat disposed of, Aarion begins searching the room, and then the Troglodyte.

Perception (Room): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Perception (Troglodyte): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

The troglodyte has the massive cudgel described before and a single brass key around his neck, and not much else. The room holds the central brazier where a mundane fire burns. Also there is a rusty iron chest with some metal tools lying on it. The tools, some pincers, a poker, a file look a bit menacing sitting there, their likely use as torture devices plain to all.

The iron chest is not locked. The brass key does not appear that it will fit the rusty old lock. Inside is a nice set of gear: a suit of masterwork studded leather armor, a masterwork buckler, a masterwork rapier, a shortbow with 15 arrows, two scrolls, a small device you recognize as a Pathfinder's wayfinder (a sort of magical compass that shines with light on command and grants a +2 circumstance bonus on Survival checks to avoid becoming lost), and a climber’s kit.

There is another door on the northeast side of the room.

Nice job Orovan. Now shall we split the plunder? Might I try on that leather armor? It really looks like it will be a good fit.

"This stuff looks more like someones gear then a chest full of loot." Aarion glances over to the wayfinder. "I wonder if they have a pathfinder held up here somewhere."

Aarion begins looking through the gear for any markings or inscriptions that would indicate who the stuff belongs to.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

"Looks right for you Jos. I say take it." Orovan replies to the sturdy elf.
"You're right Aarion. Though I'm guessing live prisoners are too much to hope for."

As the group prepares to finish the tower's exploration, Silverback says "I have prepared two healing spells. Does anyone require healing before we move on?"

I could use one on myself, but want to make sure any front-liners are topped off before we go on, and will prioritize anyone else that wants it.

Thanks for the consideration Silverback. I am currently uninjured.

"That was incredible!" Maximilian exclaims, looking at Orovan with a mixture of astonishment, admiration and a little bit of fear. "I simply must write this into verse. Don't worry," he adds, holding up his hands placatingly, "I'll use an appropriate form; you don't seem the sonnet type. Let's see...

"When Orovan's flying stakes struck,
The creature had no chance to duck,
Most everything dies,
When pierced through the eyes,
A short fight, but epic as--

"Ooh, that is a finely crafted blade," he breaks off as he sees the masterwork rapier. "Anyone mind?" he asks as he tests the weapon's balance with a few experimental slashes at the air.

Through the northeast door?

Very clever.

"It's all yours."

The door opens with a creak. Inside the small chamber you see a human figure manacled to the wall. The man is barely conscious, and bruised from what is obviously many beatings and can hardly raise his head to look at you.

The man has short cropped blond hair, and a goatee beard, but one side of his face is puffed and swollen. His back is also covered with welts and lashes and one of his arms has a scratch which looks infected.

Additionally, it appears to have been a while since the man has eaten or had enough to drink.

"Or maybe it's his. One of you wand-wavers have a spell for this guy? He might be able to help us."

Silverback attempts to administer to the man and see if he is conscious.

He holds a waterskin to his lips after he is untied.

heal: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Heal (untrained): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3 "Is he even alive?"

Aarion walks over to the man and place a hand on is shoulder. After a quick prayer to Pharasma, Aarion cast cure light wounds and channels it through the man.

Cure light wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Whispers to himself "I should keep the gear, it looks like this guy has had it. Ah nevermind.

" Good job guys, fix him up. Maybe he can tell us his story."

As the divine healing from Aarion courses through the man manacled to the wall, he begins to seem a bit more conscious. He is clearly alive, but looks in the early stages of malnourishment, and he also looks as if he has been beaten recently.

"Thank the gods, you found me." he croaks through cracked and battered lips. "I thought I was dead for sure. That troglodyte is a monster. You must've seen him when you came in...he's the jailer. The leader Tasskar, he's clever, but that one is just a brute. Have you dealt wtih Tasskar yet?"

"Think you could get this chains off me, lads? It's been a while since I've been free. Besides, I'd like to shake your hands for rescuing me."

Aarion gets a weird feeling.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

Sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Aarion casts detect magic and focuses on the man in the chains.

"Who are you and How long have you been down here?"

Sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

Silverback searches the "jailer" for a key to the shackles.

We haven't found a key yet, right? If the jailer has a key, I'll unlock the shackles.

"I have a brass key that I found on the Troglodyte jailer. I'm not sure if it is the correct key or not."

I intend to set him free once we have an outcome of the sense motives.

Neither Aarion or Orovan sense anything amiss with the beaten, yet amiable, man. The key from the trog jailer does indeed appear to fit the manacles holding the man to wall.

Upon being fried, the man rises slowly rubbing his painful wrists. "Well met, friends! I am Balenor Forsend, a stage actor of some renown, and a member of the Pathfinder Society. If you haven't heard of me, at least you've heard of my employers, I'll warrant. You have my gratitude and that of the Society for freeing me, but I wonder if I could ask you for a continuing favor?"