DM Frogfoot's Homebrew Adventure - the Wastes of Belkzen (Inactive)

Game Master Dalton the Thirsty

Your spell flickers and fails.

what that an energy / elemental attack dm? from multiple source or just one?

Arwen slowly stands up from where he landed and slowly but surely draws out his weapons ready to brace for another impact

oozuala looks over the wire, puts her crossbow back, and draws a flask of alkali.
"Think that's important, Arthur?"

"Very. We remove it, they turn off. It'll be tough, though. Let me look at it a sec."

"Couldn't i just melt it?"

"That might explode it and kill us all. Let me see here."
He draws one of his cure moderate potions and flicks some of it at the cluster.
2d6 + 5 ⇒ (3, 4) + 5 = 12
Then snakes his hand in and pulls out the temporarily shorted cluster, moving it as far away from its position as possible.
"Shut the box! Shut the box!"
I honestly can't find how many potions I have left. I've used one now out of the number I got at the cellar.

Arthur's gambit pays off. The potion, infused with magic, splashes against the electric cord. Suddenly, there's a -zzzt- sound, and the cable goes dark - though those with Detect Magic active can see that it's still emitting powerful magic. You hear a chorus of high-pitched voices from the darkness crying No! and Why!? as the darkness recedes.

Finally, you can all see again in the room. The hallway is relatively unremarkable now - you see the threshold where the stone turns to wood on the interior, and there are pastoral farmland pasture scenes on paintings on the walls.

The room continues inward for another dozen feet beyond the wood threshold and there's a pair of doors on the far end of the room. One of them is ajar, and appears to have stairs leading upward directly behind it.

The other one has been knocked off its hinges, blown inward by some tremendous force. You see what appears to be a kitchen area beyond. There's no trace of the creatures that attacked Arwen.

Arwen, the blasts that struck you were of an unknown energy type that leaves no traces of where it struck on your armor. The damage ignored DR.

Bah i'll live. Nice work there Arthur. Anyone else but me hurt?

Caln walks to Arwen and casts a spell on him...

Cure Moderate Wounds

Healing: 2d8 + 5 ⇒ (6, 3) + 5 = 14

Tks Caln i feel much better

"Aw. I wanted to see what they were."
He looks over the chord.
"I could probably do something /pretty/ freakin cool with this, if it comes back out with us. Oozula, do you mind?"
He gestures to her extra dimensional backpack with it.

Please be quick if you can Arthur we don't want the defenders to have all the time in the world to get ready to assault us.

Blinking in the returned light Suny looks around.

Perception:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Please be quick if you can Arthur we don't want the defenders to have all the time in the world to get ready to assault us.

"I say we push on."

Suny nods at Caln's words though she awaits the development of what people have found/seen.

Hope very thing is going okay with every one. (^_^)

Right then. Arwen will lead on further into the castle

Working on it right now but struggling with the creativity needed at the moment. I apologize :(

Here's your discussion thread - roleplay your introductions here!

(Reposted from other thread, under the new alias. Note that his name is "Jethro." with a period, as "Jethro" simpliciter is already taken. If Caln wants to repost his stuff, we can do take 2 of the introductions and go for it from here....)

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The wheels of the wagon ground to a halt on a dusty stretch just inside of the town gates. "This is it," said Jethro.

It wasn't a question, but the dwarf took it as such. "Ya wuz expectin' maybe a seraglio's palace an' an arena o' kings?"

"No, but maybe a wooden palisade and a pair of guards at the gate."

"Buildin' timber's `spensive out here. Sod's cheap. An' fireproof. They'ns thinkin' o' putting a stone wall 'front of the sod, but some o' the smarter orcs figger it ain't smart to wall 'emselves out'n here and won't sell stone. Can't be a fool all th' time.

"An' don't let the open gate fool ya none. Man on th' watchtower's been countin' yer nose hairs fer the past two hours. A feller'll see forever out here."

"Yeah," Jethro agreed. "I like it. It's nice to be able to see what's coming. And the land looks good."

"If'n ya can get th' water. Taters 'n' hops. Best beer in Golarion here. That's what I's here fer. If ya don' like it, wagon goes both ways." The dwarf gave a slight shrug.

Jethro grabbed his dusty pack and hopped down. "No, I like it here. A person can breathe. `Freedom.' It says so right on the label."

"I ain't a one to go pryin,' but... freedom from what?"

"Not freedom from. Freedom to."

"Oh." The dwarf's tone was leaden. You would need to be in a graveyard to find someone less interested in philosophical discussion.

"Well, I got ta get me some cargo." The dwarf turned around, rummaging in the locker behind the seat. "Me cross-cousin Ulfgar, here, runs th' livery stable. Shoo'n horses an' such. I ain't allowed ta talk ter 'im, unnerstan'? But ya give 'em that bottle, tell 'im yer new in town, an' 'e'll prolly let ya sleep in th' yard. Ya got a gift. Might make a good salesman. Or mebbe ya could dress th walls.

"If ya can't find nuthin' else, try th' Sheriff. 'E's always lookin' fer bright lads. Now I got ta get loaded down."

Jethro caught the proffered bottle by its leather wrappings. "Thanks, Mr. Ironfist. I'll not forget this."

"Jus' remember. In [six] months, th' Flood Road will. If ya can't get out by then, yer stuck. But wagon still runs both ways."

"I appreciate it, Mr. Ironfist. But I'll make it here. Maybe I'll be ordering some stone slabs from you next time."

The dwarf grunted and twitched the reins as the wagon rolled on.

Freedom Town, thought Jethro. What a pretentious name. A few square miles of well-irrigated potato fields, populated by desperate scoundrels and men without hope, surrounded by hordes of hostile orcs. Only a rogue or a fool would come here by choice. I'm looking forward to it.

Marco enjoyed hanging around the inside of town at the gates. He frequented these areas before his breakfast and after his dinner, just to see who may be coming to town. The population of Freedom Town was growing quickly, and everyday he felt safer and safer within its confines. He knew that he was a wanted man, but not yet here. However, he could not stop looking over his shoulder.

It was at that moment, he saw an Aasimar, if he was not mistaken, disembark from a wagon driven by a dwarf. He recognized the race from Magnimar, but he had not seen any that he could remember here in Freedom Town, but then again, he had not been here that long.

Marco is a tall, well-muscled, bearded man with a clean shaven pate. He is intimidating by looks to say the least. He carries a longsword on one hip and a shortsword on the other. He casually approaches the Aasimar.

Mornin', sir. Can't say as I have seen you around here before. I am Marco Andrezi, pleasure's mine. What brings you to Freedom Town?

Just a question. What time of year actually is it in game? Is the road currently dirt and dust? Or have the rains come and hence the road is currently more river?

(Reposted from other thread, under the new alias. Note that his name is "Jethro." with a period, as "Jethro" simpliciter is already taken. If Caln wants to repost his stuff, we can do take 2 of the introductions and go for it from here....)

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The wheels of the wagon ground to a halt on a dusty stretch just inside of the town gates. "This is it," said Jethro.

It wasn't a question, but the dwarf took it as such. "Ya wuz expectin' maybe a seraglio's palace an' an arena o' kings?"

"No, but maybe a wooden palisade and a pair of guards at the gate."

"Buildin' timber's `spensive out here. Sod's cheap. An' fireproof. They'ns thinkin' o' putting a stone wall 'front of the sod, but some o' the smarter orcs figger it ain't smart to wall 'emselves out'n here and won't sell stone. Can't be a fool all th' time.

"An' don't let the open gate fool ya none. Man on th' watchtower's been countin' yer nose hairs fer the past two hours. A feller'll see forever out here."

"Yeah," Jethro agreed. "I like it. It's nice to be able to see what's coming. And the land looks good."

"If'n ya can get th' water. Taters 'n' hops. Best beer in Golarion here. That's what I's here fer. If ya don' like it, wagon goes both ways." The dwarf gave a slight shrug.

Jethro grabbed his dusty pack and hopped down. "No, I like it here. A person can breathe. `Freedom.' It says so right on the label."

"I ain't a one to go pryin,' but... freedom from what?"

"Not freedom from. Freedom to."

"Oh." The dwarf's tone was leaden. You would need to be in a graveyard to find someone less interested in philosophical discussion.

"Well, I got ta get me some cargo." The dwarf turned around, rummaging in the locker behind the seat. "Me cross-cousin Ulfgar, here, runs th' livery stable. Shoo'n horses an' such. I ain't allowed ta talk ter 'im, unnerstan'? But ya give 'em that bottle, tell 'im yer new in town, an' 'e'll prolly...

Caln's attention is caught by the dwarf driven wagon as it comes to a stop just inside the town gates. He overhears the conversation between the dwarf and the...uh...sort of gnomish looking fellow. The mention of the Sheriff looking for help makes up his mind to approach the 'gnome.'

Well met fellow traveller. My name is Caln of Ravengro in the County of Canterwall in Ustalav. Blessings of the Lady Pharasma on you. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with the wagon master. I too am new to Freedom Town but in my case my Lady has sent me visions instructing me to come to the place and seek out the Sheriff as he will need help for the test that is coming. Perhaps we could visit him together?

Caln wonders at the strange appearance of the creature in front of him. However, all mortals come to the Lady so his appearance does not matter

Marco enjoyed hanging around the inside of town at the gates. He frequented these areas before his breakfast and after his dinner, just to see who may be coming to town. The population of Freedom Town was growing quickly, and everyday he felt safer and safer within its confines. He knew that he was a wanted man, but not yet here. However, he could not stop looking over his shoulder.

It was at that moment, he saw an Aasimar, if he was not mistaken, disembark from a wagon driven by a dwarf. He recognized the race from Magnimar, but he had not seen any that he could remember here in Freedom Town, but then again, he had not been here that long.

Marco is a tall, well-muscled, bearded man with a clean shaven pate. He is intimidating by looks to say the least. He carries a longsword on one hip and a shortsword on the other. He casually approaches the Aasimar.

Mornin', sir. Can't say as I have seen you around here before. I am Marco Andrezi, pleasure's mine. What brings you to Freedom Town?

Pardon my interruption Master Andrezi, but are you a native of this town. If so, can you please tell me anything about the Sherriff? My Lady, the Goddess Pharasma has guided me to this town in my dreams and has provided hints of a prophecy that threatens the Sheriff. Have you seen anything that could use the help of a cleric of Pharasma? By the way, please call me Caln

I wonder what this brute is doing here? Is he as dangerous as he looks? No matter, at the end of his life he will go to the Ladies Boneyard as do all mortals. Therefore, he is part of my flock to serve and protect and if necessary to ease into the glory of the long night

Wandering slowly up along the road (Or wandering the bank of the sluggish, muddy stream) The tall, blond mopped Elf approaches the huddled collection of buildings which have sprouted here amongst the rolling, grassy plains.

(^_^)

Oopies! *Giggles* Wrong avatar there fer a minute...

It has been a few weeks since arwen had given his word toward the sheriff, he was started to get used to the town, it's people and its customs. This morning since everything was rather quiet he figured that he would go make his round near the north entrance of town.

I am feeling better, my body aches no more, looks like all the damage has healed nicely. I am no longer hungry nor alone. I hope this peace will last long.

Upon getting closer, the Elven lass notes any peoples standing about near the gate-way to which she approaches. She meets their gazes with wide, inquisitive looks in return. Even going so far as to smile or grin -even wave- at said people staring at her in turn.

(^_^)

*Skippy, skippy, skip*

The orc girl hadn't come into her full size yet, standing just a hair over five feet tall, but she was heavily muscled and moved with the belligerent grace of a predator. The armor she wore was typical of her race, scraps of stiff leather bolstered with metal anywhere it could be hammered in, and her face was set in a haughty sneer as she walked down the street, squinting in the sunlight. She wore a curious long blade across her back, the tip nearly dragging on the ground, though the hilt rose a bit higher than the top of her topknot.

She was the newest member of Freedom Town's militia, though half the people in down would rather see her dead. It didn't matter to her. Orcs hated each other as well, but the tribe was the tribe, and you didn't turn against yours if you meant to live. The rat had understood that, and the humans who had accepted her for years would have to keep doing so now that she was an adult.

A dwarf at the reins of a wagon glared at her, hatred so deep in his eyes that she could almost feel it, but she met his look with the stoneheart face. These creatures, humans and dwarves and such, they were strange and soft, and they hated her kind, but instead of killing her Miss Anabel had taken her in when she was weak and hungry.

What she hadn't seen before was the dwarf's passenger, a strange, otherworldly being. She heard the two humans talking to it, and grinned as she cleared her throat.

"I can take you to the sheriff," she says, her voice a soft sort of growl.

I hav'na been in town for long, but I can say that if the Sheriff is lookin' for help, I'd gladly lend my swords to a righteous cause. Lead the way.

The orc girl hadn't come into her full size yet, standing just a hair over five feet tall, but she was heavily muscled and moved with the belligerent grace of a predator. The armor she wore was typical of her race, scraps of stiff leather bolstered with metal anywhere it could be hammered in, and her face was set in a haughty sneer as she walked down the street, squinting in the sunlight. She wore a curious long blade across her back, the tip nearly dragging on the ground, though the hilt rose a bit higher than the top of her topknot.

"I can take you to the sheriff," she says, her voice a soft sort of growl.

Caln spun around as he heard a growl from behind him. He eyes narrowed as he saw that the speaker was an Orc. Caln's right hand strayed to the handle of his morningstar. He paused in the movement when he noticed no one else was reacting in alarm to the presence of the Orc. Then the meaning of Orc's words hit him.

Hello Mistress Orc. My name is Caln, a cleric of the Lady Pharasma. I would appreciate you showing me the way to the Sheriff.

Lady give me strength, Caln thinks. An Orc. Next to the undead, Orcs were the greatest supporter of the Whispering Tyrant that had ravaged his country before being defeated by The Shining Crusade. The Lady's ways are indeed mysterious that she leads me to an Orc

You can see Caln sub-consciously fingering the silver Holy Symbol of Pharasma that hangs around his neck as he waits for a response from the Orc.

In the process of putting up Jethro's crunch now. FWIW, Jethro is male, and looks more like a half-gnome than anything else. If Marco can really identify him as an aasimar, then Marco obviously knows a hell of a lot more about celestial genetics than Jethro himself does.

Hmm, that's odd. A human settlement, and the first native I run into is a half-orc. Whups, a full-on orc. Who's obviously working for the sheriff. This could be something really cunning -- covert operations? Nah, why blow cover that quickly?

I also don't recognize her tribe. The armor's fairly standard for this region, but the tribal markings? Is there a "Walled City" tribe? Or is that the symbol for a broken jail cell? Maybe she's one of the not-fool orcs that Ironfist was telling me about, the ones who trade selectively with this town?

Jethro turned around, whipping his hat off his head. Well, thank you, ma'am. That's superb service. Normally it takes me a few hours and getting thrown out of at least two drinking establishments before I get taken to the sheriff. It will be a novel experience talking to a sheriff while sober. His long hair gleamed like ivory in the sun as he bowed low.

I am called Jethro, arcanist and golliard. He smiled warmly as he straightened up, brushing some dirt off the long tails of his coat. I am entirely at your disposal, but perhaps the sheriff would prefer if I -- if we -- cleaned off the dust of travel, first?

Just a question. What time of year actually is it in game? Is the road currently dirt and dust? Or have the rains come and hence the road is currently more river?

Having grown up in the kind of land that the Wastes of Belkzen are described as,... I assume that if it's not actually raining RIGHT NOW, the road is dusty, as is everything else. Most of the water in the "wastes" doesn't come locally, but from snowmelt (hence the Flood Road, bringing water down in early spring).

Basically, there are three seasons; winter, melt, and dry. Since we could get to the town at all, it's neither winter nor is it melt.

.. or at least that's how I read the description. Similarly, the potatoes, hops, and irrigation ditches are straight out of my childhood....

Jethro turned around, whipping his hat off his head. Well, thank you, ma'am. That's superb service. Normally it takes me a few hours and getting thrown out of at least two drinking establishments before I get taken to the sheriff. It will be a novel experience talking to a sheriff while sober. His long hair gleamed like ivory in the sun as he bowed low.

I am called Jethro, arcanist and golliard. He smiled warmly as he straightened up, brushing some dirt off the long tails of his coat. I am entirely at your disposal, but perhaps the sheriff would prefer if I -- if we -- cleaned off the dust of travel, first?

The Lady is always full of suprises...first an Orc and now an incredibly tall Gnome. Why do I have the feeling that they both are somehow tied into the dreams that have led me to this place

Hello, friend, uh Gnome?? Are you also drawn to the Sheriff? Perhaps by your God...

Hakiri sees the cleric reach for his weapon, and then stop. She remained still, but tensed up, ready to draw her blade if need be, but wanting to be sure. It had been only a few months since the rat had shot her, and she was not going to give him cause to shoot her again. If that meant letting the human take the first swing, so be it.

When his fingers went instead to the silver spiral he wore on a cord around his neck, she nodded her head.

"I see you serve the Lady of Graves," she said. "I hope neither of us will meet her today."

The small creature, like a gnome but clearly not, gave her a bow and spoke so quickly and at such length that she scowled, trying to follow his words. She shook her head when he was finished and replied brusquely.

"He's seen dust before. You want to see him now, come with me. You want to get drunk first, find him yourself."

Working on the assumption that it's a small enough town that those of us who are residents would know each other at least a little. Looks like that's Marco, Arwen and Suny, besides myself.

Well,.... Caln, was it?.... Ordinarily, you see, I try not to be drawn to law enforcement at all. said Jethro, over his shoulder. But I seem not to have a choice about the invitation presented by this, er, formidable young lady. Obviously there's more going on here than meets the eye.

... or the javelin. He turned back to Hakiri, and spoke in a much more gutteral voice Ես լիովին ձեր ծառայության.

With a sudden shift in attitude and a look of determination, Jethro lifted his pack to his shoulder. Let's go, then.

Hakiri sees the cleric reach for his weapon, and then stop. She remained still, but tensed up, ready to draw her blade if need be, but wanting to be sure. It had been only a few months since the rat had shot her, and she was not going to give him cause to shoot her again. If that meant letting the human take the first swing, so be it.

When his fingers went instead to the silver spiral he wore on a cord around his neck, she nodded her head.

"I see you serve the Lady of Graves," she said. "I hope neither of us will meet her today."

Mistress Orc, we all will meet the Lady someday, but today I feel that there is something else for us to do. By the Lady, I pledge my healing to you.

Turning to Jethro I agree with Mistress Orc...I feel that we need to meet the Sheriff now

Lady grant my companions and me the strength to see this quest through

Shouldn't we be doing the actual role-playing in the game thread instead of the discussion thread?

Not that I'm not having fun, mind you.

Shouldn't we be doing the actual role-playing in the game thread instead of the discussion thread?

Not that I'm not having fun, mind you.

Probably so, I guess this was supposed to be a role-played introduction only

This thread can be used for just regular discussion when the time comes, but for now it's a good place to RP an introduction to each other as characters. Think of this as a prologue and the beginning of the gameplay thread will be chapter one.

Current inhabitants of freedom town can take liberties with people and places around town that they know, within reason.

Ausk, as a half-orc, your character would understand Hakiri's problems with the other townsfolk better than most. Feel free to include any interactions your characters would have had in your backstory.

Also I encourage everyone to follow Caln's example for listing stats.

Suny wanders into the town, stopping to (Or stopped by) those who's task it is to do so.

Her clear voice, though chopped language, can possibly be heard by those gathering around the wagon.

"Hey-YA there!" (^_^)

Suny's appearance is of a tall, blond mopped Elf. Studded leather armor with the dust of the road clinging to it. A large backpack in which is a chest. Strapped along the side of the back pack is a sword. Her hands ar3e covered in thick, leather fingerless gloves.

Suny wanders into the town, stopping to (Or stopped by) those who's task it is to do so.

Her clear voice, though chopped language, can possibly be heard by those gathering around the wagon.

"Hey-YA there!"

Hello Mistress Elf. The Lady's Blessing on you today. My name is Caln, a humble Cleric of the Goddess Pharasma. You have the looks of a fellow traveller about you

An Orc, an extremely tall Gnome, and now I believe a Sea-Elf all here at the same time. This isn't a coincidence. Whether they know it or not, I feel the hand of the Lady in this

Suny wanders into the town, stopping to (Or stopped by) those who's task it is to do so.

Her clear voice, though chopped language, can possibly be heard by those gathering around the wagon.

"Hey-YA there!" (^_^)

Suny's appearance is of a tall, blond mopped Elf. Studded leather armor with the dust of the road clinging to it. A large backpack in which is a chest. Strapped along the side of the back pack is a sword. Her hands ar3e covered in thick, leather fingerless gloves.

"Good morning! I am Jethro, my colleague here is Caln, and we were about to be escorted by this fine but nameless lady" -- Jethro inclined his head towards the armed and armored orc -- "to the local sheriff, for reasons that will no doubt become clear in a few moments. But if your plans for the day do not include a visit to the town lockup, you might want to find a different street for your morning stroll."

Crunch for Jethro is up. Speak now or forever hold your piece.

I'll get something going soon-- I'm down with a stomach virus or something these last two days, which makes me about 100% less likely to chime in with a creative bit of introduction.

"This one wanted to see the rat ... er ... sheriff," the orc girl says to Jethro, her head nodding towards Caln. "You're welcome to go find the bottom of a bottle instead." Yes, that's what a 5 in charisma looks like.

The arrival of the elf seems to distract the men for a moment, to Hakiri's relief. She watches the new arrivals closely, and is surprised to see that unlike so many of their kind, they do not seem overly troubled by the presence of an orc in their midst. Perhaps the rat had been right, that the office would convey some respect, or perhaps the people of Freedom Town were just a more hateful batch of pinkskins than most.

Marco sneers at Jethro. Then looks to the orc.

Since this little one didna' bother to introduce me, I am Marco, and I will join ya in seeing the sheriff.

He nods to the elf maiden.

Hello t'ya as well. What are ya called, lady?

He then turns to Caln.

A pleasure, Caln.

Marco checks his armor and weapons and stands ready to follow the Orc.

Marco sneers at Jethro. Then looks to the orc.

Since this little one didna' bother to introduce me, I am Marco, and I will join ya in seeing the sheriff.

He nods to the elf maiden.

Hello t'ya as well. What are ya called, lady?

He then turns to Caln.

A pleasure, Caln.

Marco checks his armor and weapons and stands ready to follow the Orc.

Blessing of the Lady to you Ser Marco. Well met.

I feel that our circle is almost complete, Caln thinks as he surveys the group. As he holds Pharasma's Holy Symbol he feels it almost vibrate with eagerness.

"This one wanted to see the rat ... er ... sheriff," the orc girl says to Jethro, her head nodding towards Caln. "You're welcome to go find the bottom of a bottle instead.".

Mistress Orc, would you mind leading the way to the Sheriff?

Did you say rat a minute ago when mentioning the Sheriff? I assume that is a comment on his personality?

Caln waits for the Orc to lead the way and will follow her to the Sheriff.

"His appearance," Hakiri says, seeing no reason to elaborate further as she turns to lead them to the sheriff's headquarters. After a few steps she stops abruptly and turns, remembering the onerous customs of the soft races. "I am his warrior. You may call me Hakiri."

I'm just about ready to get this underway, guys, I'm just having a hard time deciding on our 7th. It will begin by the weekend.

its hard life being a dm.. :)

Suny continues to smile at all the people talking to her and introducing themselves. When there's a break in the chatter she thrusts a hand forwards in an offer to shake.

"M'name be 'Suny' in'a speakin' of tha' peoples." She shakes her mop of hair, causing a light cloud of dust to float free and she giggles.

"I never bin covered in so much durt afore!" She says brightly, then tilts her head and her gaze seems to drift off into the distance for a moment before she blinks and luaghs again. "Nup! Never bin wearin' so much of tha' stuff afore!" She continues with the happy chirp of a laugh at the situation, as she continues where she left her first introduction.

"So, pleased I am ta' meet-cha Caln, Marco, Hakiri, Jethro...and..." She gushes, "Wait? Why is folks seein' this Sheriff? An' whut's a Sheriff do?" She blinks, obviously puzzled and inquisitive.

(^_^)

"What does a Sheriff do? Depends on the Sheriff, I suppose...." Just,... wow. You'd think that in the thousands of miles between here and the ocean, there would have been at least one monster with a sweet tooth. "Most of the time, the Sheriff keeps troublemakers in line in small settlements like this. So Cain here apparently thinks that there's some trouble that needs alignment."

"Of course, if the Sheriff's a metaphorical rat, it might be anything. And if he's a physical rat,... well, I've met spellcasters before. Perhaps Caln has simply foreseen that he needs an enchantment lifted. You any good at breaking spells?"

"So, pleased I am ta' meet-cha Caln, Marco, Hakiri, Jethro...and..." She gushes, "Wait? Why is folks seein' this Sheriff? An' whut's a Sheriff do?"

It is a pleasure to meet you Mistress Suny. Caln smiles al the obviously happy girl as he continues to absent-mindedely finger his Holy Symbol.

I am a Cleric of Pharasma, who besides being the Lady of Graves, is also the Goddess of Fate and Prophecy. My dreams have called me to this place and have revealed that the law keeper of this town, the Sheriff, as he is called is soon to be faced with a test that is beyond his abilities and that I should offer my humble services to him. I feel that Fate has led the rest of you to this place at this time to help the Sheriff also.

Caln gives a nervous half-smile Of course, I am a very junior member of the Lady's Clergy so mayhaps I'm wrong which means I've walked through Orc invested lands for no reason...uh, no offense intended Mistress Orc

"Oh, I'm sure there was a reason." smiled Jethro. I can think of a dozen reasons, few of them flattering. "Even if you were wrong, there's still a reason that the Lady let you make that mistake. A motley collection like this, at the sharp end of one of the most dangerous cities in north Golarion?"

At the far end of town, before he’d even made it to the sheriff’s office, Ausk caught Hakiri and Marco talking to a pair of strangers—that quickly became three. Seeing they were outnumbered, Ausk approaches. As tall as he is broad, covered with scars and a deep jade color, Ausk looks only slightly more human than Hakiri—- the fact that he’s dressed in human clothes instead of tribal leathers makes it stand out. He touches his hat as he approaches. ”Mornin’, folks. What seems to be the trouble?” he asks, hooking the earthbreaker-- a massive hammer with a four-foot-long handle-- onto his shoulder. ”I’m Deputy Gunn. I see you’ve met my associates.”

He looks to Hakiri and Marco, hoping for a quick and easy-to-digest summary of why a gnome, a Shoanti and some kind of peppy elf are the focus of their attention this morning.

There's a sudden transition from past to present tense, but I noticed that everyone was using it and didn't want to go back to parse what I'd already written. Call me lazy if you have to!

Suny enthusiastically shakes any proffered hands in return, grinning and nodding as another person wanders up and joins the conversation.

"We's goin' ta' meet tha' Sheriff." She replies to Ausk. (^_^)

** spoiler omitted **...

"Pharasma's Blessing upon you. I had just finished telling these folks" waving his hand to indicate the group gathered around him "that I am a Cleric of the Lady Pharasma from Ustalav and have been led here because of a coming test that your Sheriff will need help with. Fate seems to have conspired to have friend Gnome and friend Elf arrive at the same time. Your colleague was about to take us to see the Sheriff" waving his hand to indicate Hakiri.

And now a extremely large Half-Orc dressed in human clothes...The ways of the Lady are mysterious indeed

Marco nods in Deputy Gunn's direction.

Mornin', Deputy...ready to lend a sword, or two, if the Sheriff'll have me.

Ausk juts an eyebrow at the word 'fate' and nods. "They call it the Age o' Lost Omens on account of the fact that the omens are comin' true then?" He accentuates his faithlessness with a shrug.

"That's up to the Sheriff," he angles the comment to Marco.

Peppy elf. Not sure if that's a smile that hides a knife or not. He waits for the others to explain themselves.

I'm posting the first post in the gameplay thread later on in the week. For now, a bit about the setting:

Knowledge: History DC 10 (meaning you can try for it untrained):

"Good morning, deputy. Jethro, arcanist and golliard." The hat came off again. "At your service, and your boss's, apparently." Long live the past tense! Excuse me, long lived the past tense!

"I didn't realize that a trip to the Sheriff's office was part of the welcoming ceremony. But of course I'm happy to lend a hand, a spell, or a kind word as appropriate. I know two dozen rhymes for `bucket.' Some of them are even fit for ladies' ears."

Checking Knowledge(History) untrained : if I can take a 10, it's a 12. If not, it's a 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

No taking 10 on knowledge checks, but you know it anyway. :)

Checking Knowledge (Local): trained. Skill Bonus +4 (0 ability + 1 rank + 3 class skill)

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Ausk juts an eyebrow at the word 'fate' and nods. "They call it the Age o' Lost Omens on account of the fact that the omens are comin' true then?".

"Deputy, I have no idea if omens are "comin' true" as you say, but I'd be curious how often a Sea Elf, incredibly tall Gnome and a Cleric led to your town by dreams all arrive at exactly the same time? You may think coincidence, if I prefer to believe it's fate"

Caln smiles at the Deputy and says "Of course, it may be that I just wasted time on a very hot and dusty walk"

Knowledge History:1d20 ⇒ 18

Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15

"Tall gnomes. Fate. Got it."

Ausk was never one for religion, especially Pharasman priests. When all you have is a prophecy, every problem starts looking like an omen.

Apologies for calling Caln a Shoanti! I hadn't read your backstory until now. The avatar is a bit misleading. Typically, Ustalavic Varisians aren't bone-carrying native americans in skull paint. :P

That is a big spike! That was stolen by the original Town leaders. Impressive...