DM John's The Reaping Stone

Game Master Paizo Fan

Your arrival in the city of Maerh-Varza has gone unheralded and without incident. Led by Captain Johnson, you have arrived at the Stirge and Hammer Inn in the Market Hill district; an area of the city reserved for the working class and the occasional wandering adventurer. As you have arrived at the behest of the Guild of Streetsweepers and Lamplighters, your board and meal has been pre-paid, although any alcohol purchased is to be paid from your own pocket.

The Stirge and Hammer Inn is run by a man in his early 50s by the name of Vasaro. He is possessed of hawk-life features, greying curly black hair and a twisted beak of a nose. He seems completely at home speaking with you, as he spent over twenty years serving in the King's Rovers; guarding the city within a range of 100 miles, protecting the outlying villages and keeping the roads free of bandits.

Assisting him is his lovely daughter, Basila. She's only recently turned 17, but upon instantly speaking to her, you can tell that she is far from your average serving wench, with an excellent head for numbers and a warm, caring personality. It is obvious from the way that Vasaro watches her that he loves her deeply; unsurprising once you learn that he lost his wife and son in childbirth almost twelve years ago.

For those of you drinking, the Inn serves only one beverage; Vasaro's own beer, Old Blind Stirge, which he brews in part of his stable. It's a heady stout with a deep taste. Whilst perhaps not the best ale in the land, it is certainly a fine way to spend the evening.

Vasaro
Basila

The Stirge and Hammer Inn

Captain, which table are you and your fellow mercenaries going to sit? No one else is in the Inn aside from yourselves, Vasaro and Basila. At this point in time, feel free to chat amongst yourselves, engage Vasaro or Basila in conversation or just generally enjoy the ambience. It is currently around 9pm at night.

The light was fading at the Stirge and Hammer, when a tall powerfully built man walked in dusty from the road. He was unmistakably a solider, with his with close cropped dark hair, perfectly maintained kit consisting of a standard issue breastplate, boots, with a well polished great axe poking out from under an oiled cloak which was swirling around him in the wind as he stood at the door. He scanned the room, checking for exists and cover, a lifelong habit that had served him well on more than one occasion. What luck, nobody there apart from the barkeep and his daughter.

Seemingly approving of the Shining Blade's he visibly relaxed and strode over to the barkeep with a smile, "Ah Vasaro I believe? Excellent! The name's Johnson, I believe my squad is expected. I'd like that big table over there by the fire. I trust you've received the down payment? Oh you have good, good. No I'll be eating the same as the men, and the first round will be on me out of my pocket. Oh and about that I hear your brew is particularly heady stuff, I need the men alert tomorrow so no more than 2 of those for anyone. I don't anticipate any trouble tonight, but if anyone steps out of line particularly around your Daughter I'll have their guts for garters."

Johnson walks over to the door and nods as the new squad file in. He says, "Well lads, here we are at last. Welcome to Maerh-Varza, get your selves comfortable, but not too comfortable eh? We've got an early start tomorrow."

For the most part Johnson seems happy to stay aloof and listen to the Squads banter, hoping that they don't know the real reason for his detachment... I can do this, I can do this, I've done it before, we had a good campaign. It's going to be fine. No really it is. They're surely not as young and green as they look, are they? I'll watch out for them, I'm not going to loose my cool, I'm NOT going to get them killed! It's going to be fine, it's going to be ok...

Lurking in the Captain's shadow (or at least of a size such that, next to the Captain, he fades into obscurity) comes a short, hooded figure. The mercenaries have long since gotten used to the occasional odd, sharp smells that frequently seem to follow the figure, but the innkeeper and his daughter may not be so inured. "Aye, Captain. Don't worry. About me. You know I don't. Get drunk easily." He pulls his hood back to reveal a whiskered, snouted face. "Nice place. Zrair will be happy. Place to curl up. By the fire." He glances back over his shoulder.

The door to the tavern opens and a figure adorned in Lamellar armor, a helmet that covers the entire face but the eyes atop its head. As the figure comes into full view, a great sword can be seen, the sheath strapped to its back.

The figure walks up to the the bar, takes off the helmet, and shakes her hair out. "Hi there! Here to meet some people! Oh! I think I see one over there. Tootles!" She goes to the table and sits by Johnson at the table by the fire. She smiles at him and punches his arm. "So youre the captain, eh? Nice to meet'cha! Im Shelai!" She flashes her dazzling smile and runs her fingers through her golden hair before offering one for a shake.

So young... So full of life, what foolish notion lead her to sign up? Ow! She's much stronger than she looks.

Johnson simply nods at Shelai and finishes his pull on the tankard before saying, "Indeed I am, welcome to the squad Shelai. I'm afraid you're billeted in the same room as everyone else, I trust that's not going to cause any problems?"

Seemingly this was a rhetorical question because before Shelai can reply, Johnson continues in a lower voice, "So they sent you did they? I've heard about your fighting style. It's good to have you on the team, but it makes we wonder what else they haven't told me..."

She nods, thinking about it. "Thanks for the complement. as for what they havent told you, well, I'm sure you're going to find out rather quickly. Dark times, these. But there is always a ray of light, if ya hit the darkness hard enough!!" She laughs and thanks the lovely daughter as she brings her a tankard, taking a drink.

A minute later, a very severe looking man in a finely tailored grey robe enters the inn. The cowl hangs loosely over his shoulders revealing light blue skin which marks him as clearly inhuman. His hands are clasped and his chin is held so high that you wonder what could possibly be so interesting on the ceiling.

When he arrives at the table, Virtus runs a finger down the edge of the table. After an examination of said finger for dust, he frowns. "Captain, I see you have managed to find us a somewhat less disgusting lodging this time around. If current trends continue, I'm hopeful we may stay somewhere positively tolerable within the year."

Taking measure of Shelai, he mutters sub-vocally "Just what the apothecary called for, another musclebound tin can." His voice picks up, keeping an even, if monotonous, cadence. "Welcome to the squad good sir. Before you should hear otherwise, let me assure you that the rumors of this band being a dumping ground for problem recruits are mostly fictitious."

He sits stiffly, his posture straight as a sword, not touching the back of his chair. "Barmaid, one pint of rainwater if you please."

The white-muzzled mercenary squints down at his chittering companion.

"Don't tell me what I'll like, baldtail," he snipes, "unless it's a rat-sized jar of terrap sap."

But after he has taken his mug of Stirge, Zrair does choose the closest chair to the nearest fire. His fellow alchemist might be vermin, he had decided in the early days of the company, but through their profession and their studies, he has a fair bit in common with the unpronounceable fellow.

Stretching his legs by the glow of the hearth, he laps lazily at his beverage, watching the door as the new arrivals make their entrance.

Following behind the Captain, and matching him in stature, comes a strong tiefling with ram-like horns and a reptilian tail piercing through the protection of a thick suit of banded mail armor. He grins at the innkeeper's daughter, displaying sharp, razor-like teeth. "If the cap'n is buying, then you'd best bring out some tankards of stout for each of us. If Virtus is turning you down, you can pass his share my way." Kirzon laughs heartily at his own joke.

However, he is far more delighted to see the armored woman join their table. "At last, another warrior in the company. I was beginning to think we'd be stuck with another apothecary. Kirzon is the name, and I'd like to test that sword of yours sometime. Though you may be a woman, I won't be holding back."

Virtus throws up his his palms in submission at Kirzon's suggestion. "By all means my obdurate associate. Do not let me stand between you and whatever intoxicated follies you have planned for the evening."

Zrair looks up from his fireside table, where he had been idly tracing the wood-grain with a claw.

"If free rounds are folly, then we'd all be happier fools," he volunteers, his mood mellowed by the paired warmth of hearth and mug.

"But if you prefer you keep your sour mood, we'll have the sour stout."

Vasaro nods at each of you in turn, and you get the feeling that each of you are being measured. Zrair, R!Kktik and Victus in particular can feel the scrutiny of Vasaro's gaze but as the moments pass, he evidently comes to the conclusion that you mean no harm and are unlikely to cause trouble.

"Welcome to the Stirge and Hammer. The Guild sent along payment for your lodgings and food in advance; always prompt with the payments, so they are. I've also been briefed on your mission; you are to hunt down and slay an otyugh in the sewers of the city. You'd think the Guild would train their own warriors but every time something like an otyugh moves in then they open the purse strings and hire some mercenaries for the job," Vasaro says.

"Here are your drinks," Basila says with a sweet smile, the hem of her dress twirling slightly as she moves. Although obviously only in her teen years, it would appear that Basila has a firm grasp of the way a woman can spin a crowd to her tune. She expertly places a mug of Old Blind Stirge in front of each of you, with an exception for Victus who gets water as requested. "I'll bring your food up in a moment." Vasaro gives anyone whose eyes linger on Basila a hard stare.

"A representative of the Guild shall be here in the morning to lead you to the nearest entrance to the sewers that the otyugh was seen," Vasaro says. "Until then, please feel free to relax; I know how hard the life on the road can be."

"Good, everyone's here then. Don't mind Virtus, he has some very useful talents and you'll all be glad of him once battle is joined, although you'll have to make certain... allowances for magi tend to be prickly"

Oh dear, I think we're in for a rough ride. A Paladin, and him! I'll have to keep them busy, very busy...

Seeing that everyone has finished their food and most are nursing the dregs in their flagons, Johnson stands up and addresses the squad, "As welcome as Vasaro's hospitality is, it's time for us to turn in. The guild are famously punctual, important in their line of work, and will be here with the dawn. The company expects us to put on a good show. I expect you all up and in kit an hour before day break and to have everything polished and ready for inspection. Stow those groans! You signed up for this life, and besides first impressions matter."

Later, Johnson has a quiet word with Virtus, "What do you know about Otyugh's? I've heard contradictory things about the filthy creatures and I'd like to know what we're up against..."

As Captain Johnson begins to converse with Vasaro, the city bells chime the midnight hour. The flames flicker across the inn's fieldstone walls, which are adorned with dozens of hunting trophies and war mementos - including a collection of two dozen gnoll heads mounted over the large twin fireplaces and the well-preserved body of a snarling gnoll chieftain clutching a rusty and dented axe.

Suddenly, before the Captain and Vasaro can begin to converse they are interrupted by a rush of footsteps and a series of high-pitched yips and growls. This noise preceds the appearance of three small reptilian humanoids, followed by two armored men wielding scythes and a woman in dark, blood-red robes.

As you quickly come to your senses and move to defend yourselves, you see that two of the reptilian humanoids carry smoking wooden batons and the other carries a small bulging cloth bag. As the creatures prepare to throw their items at you, the robed woman draws a glass vial from the folds of her robe and shouts an order: "For the glory of the Scythe Mother! Kill them all!"

Party Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Kobolds Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Cultist Warriors Initiative: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (13) + 0 = 13
Tieranda Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Vasaro and Balisa Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

Initiative Order - Round 1
Tieranda - 23
Party - 17
Cultist Warriors - 13
Vasaro and Balisa - 8
Kobolds - 2

The robed woman stands triumphantly and tosses the glass vial into the room. It sails over the heads of the kobolds and cultists to land between the two parties of combatants and shatters into several pieces. A sickly looking cloud rises from where the vial shattered and appears to disperse throughout the room.

"Onwards, minions, kill them all!" she crows, pointing at the party.

I can't upload the battlemap until later tonight, however the kobolds are currently gathered around the table nearest the entrance, with the robed woman and two cultists flanking her just where the tap room opens up. Party initiative is up, so whoever posts first will act first. I also require Fortitude saves from everyone. Let the games begin!

Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

The warm surroundings and the heady stout had lulled Johnson into a false sense of security so the sudden appearance of the attackers takes him entirely by surprise, and he inhales a lungful of the noxious fumes and wastes precious moments hacking his guts up.

"Ranged, lock that robed one down! I'll take care of the minions, Zrair come flank with me!"

If possible, Johnson will move to try to set up a flank for Zrair

Regular Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Damage if that hits: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Nice dice rolls ;(

Due to the set up of the tables, you won't be able to reach them first round but I shall move you as close as possible with a double move. None of you will be able to close with them in the first round, if that makes a change to your action. For those with splash weapons, the optimum target is the robe wearer who is 55' away from you, flanked by the warriors.

R!Kktik reacts quickly, having had only one ale (and, truth be told, having gotten used to bar fights). He scuttles forward and hurls a flask of his own at the apparent priestess. The source of the sharp smell around the ratfolk becomes obvious as the flask shatters, splashing corrosive liquid around his target. "Tchk! Top that. Fuzzy." He twitches his tail back and forth. So half the party has tails? That's kind of unusual.

Fort save (incl. +2 vs. poisons, if applicable): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Thrown flask ranged touch attack on Tieranda, incl. range penalty (-2 for 35'; range increment 20'): 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 6 - 2 = 18
Alkahest acid damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
5 HP splash damage.

So remember where I said that this adventure was really harsh?

Tieranda Fort Save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Warrior 1 Fort Save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Warrior 2 Fort Save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Kobold 1 Fort Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Kobold 2 Fort Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Kobold 3 Fort Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

All but the first warrior suffer 1 point of Constitution damage. Due to this, all three kobolds have lost 1 hit point.

Constitution Loss (Captain Johnson): 2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6

Captain Johnson immediately feels weakened and his gear suddenly seems to weigh several factors heavier. R!Kktik also feels weakened although not to such a great extent.

Captain Johnson suffers from temporary loss of 6 Constitution, simply down to rolling 1 on the the Fortitude save :( R!Kktik suffers a loss of 1 Constitution. This is a supernatural disease and cannot be removed until such point as the artifact that created it is destroyed or nullified. Anyone who fails the save is afflicted with 1 point of Constitution loss. Saving means you are still infected but do not suffer the Constitution loss. You must make 1 save per day. Please factor this into current and maximum hitpoints.

Despite his suddenly weakened state, R!Kktik still manages to toss his bomb right at the robed woman, covering her in acid. She screams in pain, joined by her warrior bodyguards as they suffer from the splash back.

Tieranda suffers 5 points of acid damage, the warriors each suffer from 5 points of acid damage.

Tieranda: 26/31
Warrior 1: 15/20
Warrior 2: 15/20
Kobold 1: 4/4
Kobold 2: 4/4
Kobold 3: 4/4

Ouch! Well, that's one way to incentivize going into harm's way.

So presumably making the saving throw tomorrow would just prevent further con loss? Would lesser restoration help here? Lets hope nobody else rolls a 1!

Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13.

Kirzon calls for Gorum's favor in battle to the company. He then moves 20 feet toward the enemy, drawing his sword in the process.

Cast Bless. +1 morale bonus to hit and to save vs. fear

For further details on the disease, you may roll Heal or Knowledge (nature) checks to understand the disease and Knowledge (arcana) or (religion) in order to understand the source, although I would suggest mangling the bad guys first! Also lesser restoration shall not heal up the ability loss until you have removed the source.

fort save: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Shelai grunts as the baddies begin to attack, she put on her helm and moves to the closest one she can get at, falling just short. She unsheaths her greatsword. "You came to the wrong inn, my friend."

"And here I thought the present company dreadful enough." The wizard outstretches his hands towards the invaders and enters a momentary trance. "I believe the Captain was quite clear, it is time for you to sleep."

Casting sleep, DC 16, trying to catch as many foes as possible. If the battle map is posted before our foes go, I'll tell you exactly where it's centered.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

What do I know about:
Otyughs Knowledge Dungeoneering: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
The disease Knowledge Nature: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
The disease Knowledge Arcana: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
The disease Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 15

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 7
Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8 +2 if poison

Knowledge (nature) for disease: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Knowledge (religion) for source: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Is the disease ability drain, or ability damage? If it's incurable either way, I guess that only matters for people with even Con scores.

I'll wait an hour or two to see if the map is up before taking Zrair's turn.

If you want to let the party know, as quickly and unequivocally as possible, that this adventure is not going to f$~~ around, permanent and recurring Con penalties are a pretty good method. Not disappointed.

To keep things moving:

Zrair springs up at the commotion, knocking over his bench and mug both. He opens his mouth to curse, but inhalation of the vile fumes preempts his invective.

Snarling in between coughs and spits, he draws a sling from his pack and steps toward the ambushers. He spins the leather thong about his head and releases, whipping a smooth stone into the fray.

Zrair moves 10 feet up, drawing his sling, and sling attacks an enemy. He will prefer, from high to low priority: enemies that are not sleeping, that are not behind cover, and that are kobolds.

Sling attack: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 5 + 1 = 19
Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Round 1 Summary
Captain Johnson moves as close to the enemy combatants as possible. R!Kktik launches an acid bomb at Tieranda. Kirzon calls upon the blessings of Gorum and moves towards the enemy combatants. Shelai charges one of the kobolds holding a smokestick.

Attack (greatsword, charge, Power Attack):: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Damage (greatsword, Power Attack): 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 = 10

She messily eviscerates the kobold from gizzard to gut and it falls to the side lifeless, its smokestick burning on the ground beside it. Virtus begins to cast sleep directed so that it might catch Tieranda and her two bodyguards. Zrair unleashes a smooth stone at Tieranda and catches her cleanly in the shoulder.

The cultist warriors hold back, obviously keen to protect to protect their mistress. One of the kobolds tosses its smokestick into the midst of the party and the second tosses the bag at Shelai. They then draw their sickles.

Attack (tanglefoot bag): 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (11) - 3 = 8

The tanglefoot bag harmlessly strikes the table adjacent to her and covers the tabletop in sticky glue.

Captain Johnson AoO (greataxe): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Captain Johnson Damage (greataxe): 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Captain Johnson attacks the kobold throwing the second smokestick and neatly lops its head off.

The smokestick imparts 20% miss chance when within 5' and total concealment outside that range, and an attacker can't use sight to locate the target.

Round 2
Tieranda calls out to the Scythe Mother and a sudden wall of wind appears in front of both her and the cultist warriors.

"The Scythe Mother shall raise in you in glorious undeath!" she proclaims loudly to the party.

Tieranda Will save: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
Warrior 1 Will save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Warrior 2 Will save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Victus finishes his sleep spell but only one of the warriors succumbs to his magical effect, with Tieranda and the other warrior shaking it off.

Party Initiative is up!
Captain, there is a kobold in front of you, 10' away. The rest of you have movement that you would be able to move in and engage the remaining cultist and Tieranda.

Not sure if you wanted me to use the attack roll from above or not

Johnson reacts instantly when the Kobald turned it's back to throw something, swinging his axe in a great arc cleaving through it, leaving a glistening trail of blood in the air. Before the body hits the ground, he turns to find the next enemy but stumbles wracked by the after effects of that noxious smoke and coughs up a great gout of blood! His body spasms and he coughs a mist of bloody spittle as he demands, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!"

'She's killed you Johnson, your body's just too stubborn to notice yet', purrs an insidious alien voice inside his mind. 'NO! NO! NOT YOU NOT NOW!' 'Already you feel the weakness spreading, soon, very soon you'll be mine! Surrender to me', replies the seductive alien presence, 'it's your only chance for vengeance...'

Johonson's eyes roll up briefly into his skull, and in moments there seems to be a haze of heat around him, his movements grow jerky and his whole body suddenly reeks of barely suppressed violence, and when his his eyes roll back they are now bloodshot and tinged with madness... Quick as a flash he flings himself at that Kobald, swinging his axe with incredible force!

Charging, Raging, Reckless Abandon, Power attack on that kobald: 1d20 + 8 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 8 + 2 + 1 = 18
damage if it connects: 1d12 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Free actions: Speak, Activate Rage & Reckless Abandon
Full round: Charge!

The ratfolk unlimbers a light crossbow and fires at one of the remaining kobolds, but his shot goes wide in the confusion.

Crossbow to kobold near captain, incl. PBS: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 5 + 1 = 11

"Oho, you won't be coming out alive now that the captain's mad!" Kirzon charges, knocking aside chairs as he swings his greatsword wildly at the woman. Attack: 1d20 + 6 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 6 + 1 + 2 = 23; Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 4) + 6 = 15

-2 to AC after the charge

The remaining kobold collapes in a bloody mess, the floor gore-slick from entrails and what blood is left to pump out of the wound.

Kirzon charges Tieranda, his greatsword slicing through the air to connect with her side in a grievous show of force.

Tieranda: 11/31
Warrior 1: 15/20
Warrior 2: 15/20, asleep
Kobold 1: 0/4, dead
Kobold 2: 0/4, dead
Kobold 3: 0/4, dead

Shelai, there is now room to move up to the square in front of the warrior and diagonally to his right. The square in front of him will allow you to attack Tieranda and/or the warrior while the one diagonally to his right will only permit attacks on him. This close, Kirzon can see that there is a crazed look in the warrior's eyes as though he has no intention in giving up. For a brief moment, there is fear in Tieranda's eyes.

Virtus smirks at the carnage his allies have wrought as he purposefully strides across the inn.

He holds out his hand like a claw, locking gazes with the remaining bodyguard and mutters some more eldritch phrases.

Moves up to exactly 30' away from Warrior 1. (Preferrably with allies between him and them.)
Casts Daze on Warrior 1 (DC 15 will save)

Warrior 1 Will save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

The warrior's focus begins to drift but he quickly snaps back to attention and snarls at Virtus.

Fear this guy's willpower!

Any way to get into a flank against either awake enemy without eating a bunch of AoOs?

Shelai runs up to the warrior The one that isnt sleeping And attacks.

Power attacking his bootay
attack roll: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Damage: 2d6 + 9 ⇒ (3, 4) + 9 = 16
rolling to confirm crit: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Crit damage: 2d6 + 9 ⇒ (4, 4) + 9 = 17

Shelai screams loudly as she brings her greatsword across to hit the warrior.

The warrior's cry of pain is cut short as he falls lifeless to the floor, the greatsword slicing open his chest and spilling his lifeblood.

You'd have to double move, Zrair. You would be able to charge the Tieranda though.

Tieranda: 11/31
Warrior 1: 0/20, dead
Warrior 2: 15/20, asleep
Kobold 1: 0/4, dead
Kobold 2: 0/4, dead
Kobold 3: 0/4, dead

Alright, let's give that a go. Guess we don't need a map for this battle at least, if it's almost over.

Zrair grins as his companions fell most of the attackers.

"Save at least one of those -hack- minions from complete evisceration," he pleads. The alchemist has never had the chance to dissect a kobold.

His arts must wait, however, with some potential specimens still quite alive. The crimson-cloaked woman, in particular, who has so far withstood their spells and blades.

Tossing his sling aside and drawing a bludgeon from his belt, Zrair springs toward the apparent leader of the group.

Drop sling, charge Tieranda, drawing cold iron light mace as part of charge, attack. AC is 16/12/12 for the round.

Attack: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 2 = 11
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Round 2 Summary
Zrair's mace cracks off her armour, bouncing off without causing so much as a scratch. The warrior cultist is still asleep from Virtus' spell.

Acid Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Round 3
Sensing her impending doom, Tieranda turns to flee back the way that she came. However, in doing so she leaves herself open to attack from her adversaries.

In the interest of keeping gameplay flowing, I'll roll for the AoOs.

Zirkon AoO (greatsword, bless): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 1 = 12
Zirkon Damage (greatsword, bless): 2d6 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 2) + 6 + 1 = 14

Zrair AoO (cold iron light mace, bless): 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 5 + 1 = 26
Zrair Damage (cold iron light mace, bless): 1d6 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 2 + 1 = 4

Shelai AoO (greatsword, bless): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 1 = 10
Shelai Damage (greatsword, bless): 2d6 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (4, 2) + 9 + 1 = 16

Zrair Crit Confirm: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 5 + 1 = 19
Zrair Damage: 1d6 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 2 + 1 = 4

With a combination of R!Kktik's acidic bomb and Zrair's deft strike as Tieranda turned to flee, she falls to the ground lifeless.

Tieranda: 0/31, dead
Warrior 1: 0/20, dead
Warrior 2: 15/20, asleep
Kobold 1: 0/4, dead
Kobold 2: 0/4, dead
Kobold 3: 0/4, dead

Party exp: 13600/30000. Once you hit 30,000 exp then every shall level. What do you want to do with the sleeping warrior? What is your next action?

After splattering the room with the innards of second Kobold Johnson hungrily scans the room for the next victim, accompanied by his inner companion singing, 'SLAY! SLAY! SLAY! Rip them limb from limb!' Out of the corner of his eye Johnson spies a large furry shape and with a snarl he charges! 'SMASH IT!', demands the alien voice. 'NO! That's Zrair! GET OUT OF MY HEAD DEMON!' As ever, the presence receeds with mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

Johnson stops suddenly mere feet from Zrair, the great axe falling to the ground. Johnson sinks to his knees and a strange lassitude falls over him. For a while he doesn't move. Later, looking tired but back to his old self, the Captain picks himself up and looks at the shattered corpses with dismay.

When the Captain speaks, his voice is slow and measured, "So it seems our days are numbered... I fully intend to look fate in the eye and laugh! I may die, but I'm taking whoever send these with me to hell!

Knowledge is power, if we are to have vengeance we must know our enemy better than they know themselves. Find out what you can from these..."

Vasaro and Basila rise from behind the bar counter, Vasaro with a loaded crossbow. They take stock of the situation and then leans heavily against the bar.

"Praise be to Erastil, you've defeated them," Vasaro breathes heavily, a sickly sheen on his face. Basila appears to share the same affliction.

"Please, you need to find a cure for whatever ailment they've infected us with," Vasaro whispers, his eyes fearfully darting to his daughter. "I'll pay you 500 gold pieces and offer you free room and board for a month if you do."

A search of Tieranda's body reveals a second glass vial, similar to the one that she smashed on the floor. After a few moments of study, Virtus comes to the conclusion that it contains 'the reaping sickness', an obscure magical disease. She also carries an unholy symbol. Knowledge (religion) to reveal what god it is dedicated to. DC 15.

A search of the cult warrior fanatic reveals a poorly rendered, filth-stained cloth map of what appears to be a sewer system. Upon the map is a crude path in red ink. Knowledge (dungeoneering, geography or local) to identify the points on the path. DC 20. DC 30 shall identify exactly where the end point is, although this shall take considerable time.

Captain Johnson Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Zrair Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Shelai Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Virtus Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 13
Kirzon Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21
R!KKtik Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

You all notice muddy tracks leading from where the enemies ran up from the cellar below the inn.

"We have. A captive. He may talk. If persuaded." The ratfolk coughs once. "The sickness. Is in us, too." A quick chuckle. "Look, Zrair. The Captain. Got the dissection started. For you." R!Kktik sets to copying the map.

Johnson shakes his head and looks most unhappy when it becomes obvious the inn keep and his daughter are afflicted too, "We will find a cure, or die trying. Thanks for the offer of board that's most welcome, I accept."

"See if the prisoner will talk of his own volition, if not kill him. If you torture him he'll tell you what he thinks you want to hear and we won't be able to trust what he says."

Who is rousing Sleeping Beauty from his slumber then?

Kirzon binds the sleeping warrior with rope. Kirzon then calls on Gorum's strength to make him more... persuasive. Touch of Glory power for +2 to the next Cha check.

He bends his face over the bound warrior and slaps him awake, grinning to bear his sharp teeth. "So, why don't you start by telling us what's going on?" He licks his lips, as if eager to taste the warrior's flesh should he refuse. Intimidate: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

The cultist awakes and simply laughs in Kirzon's face.

"The Scythe Mother shall claim you all for her charnel throne!" the man begins to laugh maniacally. It quickly becomes evident that he was likely a simple minion for the robed caster.

"Given their point of ingress and penchant for diseases, I would hypothesize that the Otyugh sightings of our original employment are related."

"To answer your earlier query Captain, Otyughs are filthy creatures, strong as an ogre with a tendency to constrict their foes. If you must insist upon your usual up close tactics, I would recommend keeping a weapon you can wield in a single hand at the ready."

Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Knowledge Geography: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

IDing the Cloak Spellcraft: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
IDing the Sickle Spellcraft: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Wow that was terrible. For the map check, can I make one of each possible knowledge, or just one?

"Should this fool not cooperate, we should simply infect him. If he has even a shred of self preservation, that will align his motives with our own. If not, then it is no great loss."

R!Kktik finishes copying the map and looks up. "Turn him over. To the town guards. They can deal. With him."

"Is the disease infectious?"

Zrair follows the rest of the party into the cellar, pausing, for the moment, his inquest into kobold anatomy.

"I'm with our wizard on this one," he nods to Virtus. "If he won't lead us to their lair, at least his example may prove... edifying, as our mutual affliction takes its course. A guinea pig for potential treatment, if nothing else."

Skill check time. Can I assume Zrair gets a Guidance from Kirzon before each?

"That benediction of yours may help us find the purpose of these objects," the alchemists suggests to the cleric.

Knowledge (dungeoneering): 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 3 + 1 = 17
Spellcraft sickle: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 6 + 1 = 20
Spellcraft cloak: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 1 = 11

Discussion thread for The Reaping Stone. Please place any OOC discussion in here.

Thanks for the pick, and congrats to R!Kktik, Johnson, Kirzon, Shelai, and Virtus. Looking forward to a fun and perilous table.

A quick question for the GM before we start:

Among Zrair's starting gear is a big bundle of alchemical items. Would it be alright to assume that he has had sufficient time to craft some of these alchemical items for himself (at 1/3rd base cost)? I'd only be applying this to items he can craft by taking 10, i.e. only those with a DC of 18 or less.

Thanks! Ill be posting soon. :) Congrats to everyone else.

Thank you! Looking forward to it!

Thanks for the pick, and congrats to R!Kktik, Johnson, Kirzon, Shelai, and Virtus. Looking forward to a fun and perilous table.

A quick question for the GM before we start:

Among Zrair's starting gear is a big bundle of alchemical items. Would it be alright to assume that he has had sufficient time to craft some of these alchemical items for himself (at 1/3rd base cost)? I'd only be applying this to items he can craft by taking 10, i.e. only those with a DC of 18 or less.

Likewise; R!Kktik has a slightly higher Craft check due to racial bonuses, but the principle is the same.

And thanks for picking me, DM J. Looking forward to it!

Looks like this will be fun.

Welcome one and all.

R!KKtik and Zrair; I have no problem with that. You can assume that before you set off you had time to prepare.

Can everyone use the following format for your profile headers (enter the following text with relevant changes pertinent to your character) in the Race/Class field in your character profile:

Human Ranger (Righteous Sentinel) 3 | HP: 20/26 | AC 19 (Armor, Dex, Shield) (ff 16, t 13) | Fort +6, Ref +7, Will +4 | Init +3, Perc +7 | Longbow +6 (1d8/x3), +1 Handaxe +6 (1d6+3/x3), Greataxe +5 (1d12+2/x3)

This allows me to keep the flow moving in combat/dungeon crawls. Also, you don't need to bold speech in the gameplay thread. Any thoughts should be in italics.

I've updated the profile header. Any thoughts on how best to capture the stat changes with raging, since most of them do change.

You can use spoilers in the header field, if that makes it easier.

There's a pretty short limit on the number of characters in that field. Can't get it to fit with spoilers, shame.

The gender, race, and classes/levels fields all appear in the header with independent character limits. I have Zrair's normal stats under race, and the class field for his mutagen stats. I don't know if I like it taking up so much space with the spoiler, though, might just add it on only when it's in effect.

Ah I see, I'll change it tonight. Thanks.

It's funny, I don't think any of us has any skill in diplomacy/bluff/intimidate.

Yeah I noticed that too. Oh by the way johnson won't object to (somewhat harsh) interrogation but he won't permit torture. Let's not go there :)

@John Stout - I completely understand if it's too late for such things, but would it be possible for Kirzon to make an adjustment to cover the Intimidate skill? He would give up the Focused Mind trait in exchange for the Fiend Blood trait (+1 Intimidate, Intimidate is a class skill). Next level, he'd drop a skill point into Intimidate. I think it's both useful and fits with the character.

Fine by me.

Sweet. Kirzon is getting scarier by the minute. :P

Sit by the fire, children, and I shall recount for you that blood-chilling tale... the story of The Party Without a Face!

To keep track of this sort of thing, I put together a spreadsheet organizing our various skill and language abilities which anyone may edit:

Link to Google doc

The skill list isn't complete--I didn't feel like calculating 200-odd modifiers, so for everyone else it only shows those ranks that are actually on our profiles. Feel free to fill out the rest for your own PCs. The skill name backgrounds indicate who has the highest rank, and black indicates trained-only skills that none of us possess.

Sit by the fire, children, and I shall recount for you that blood-chilling tale... the story of The Party Without a Face!

But we've got three tails, which should count for something.

Perhaps, but no one has Handle Animal either.

I can technically be a face. XD But we're gonna have a bad time.

That's a neat chart, Zrair. Surprised nobody picked up Necril. Of course, Kirzon's too dumb to pick up anything.

I'll probably pick it up if we get to level 3.

I will be gone for this weekend. Magic convention! I will post if possible.

As in "the Gathering," or as in "Castle"?

Zrair, you may want to re-read the 'Throw Anything' entry under the Alchemist class. Despite having no bombs, your alchemist's acid and fire are better than normal.

Thanks for pointing that out. I didn't realize the Int bonus damage was part of it as well.

I'd just noticed that, too. Which is part of why R!Kktik now jingles a bit when he walks...alchemist's fire, alkali flask, shard gel, and a couple of other things. Between his INT, ratfolk bonus, and alchemist level bonus he's got +13 on alchemy checks; if he survives to 3rd level he'll be able to take 10 and make DC 25 items.

Magic as in tricks.

Is anyone down any hit point damage from that?

Don't think so. Looks like the only harm was that Kirzon picked up filth fever, probably unnecessarily in retrospect.