DM Panic's PFS Perils

Game Master wakedown

Barnel scratches his head and then shakes it.

"I said it's supposed to be somewhere in a warehouse. I don't know which one, or where it is. There's dozens of warehouses in the area, and if she sees me snooping around with the lot of you, I'd be as good as dead!"

"Ha!" Ramli barks out a burst of laughter. "Fierce as a popinjay, you are, young Harrol.

Then he turns serious.

"That's not to say the rest of us can't back up those threats, though. You said if she sees you, you're in trouble. Only problem is we see you right now."

The laughter still in his voice sadly gives the lie to his threat, however.

Intimidate 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Barnel gives Ramli a puzzled look, uncertain if he just received a threat or not.

"Look, I don't know which warehouse, I've helped you all the best I can and I pray you can stop this wretched woman before she finds out I informed you all!"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

"That one is like a bluestar mår∂•† caught in the stare of a dreamcat. No guile, just fear. Run along, little mår∂•†." Thorel puts hir mouth on hir hand and gives a little giggle. Then realizes hir mouth is covered with ink. Ze smiles with pink teeth at Ramil, hoping his arcane talents extend to cleaning ink-smudged comrades.

My default assumption is you all allow Barnel to hobble away into hiding somewhere, and head back to the main street... let me know if that's incorrect.

As you all work your way back to the main thoroughfares of Absalom, a breathless teenager comes rushing up to you, before leaning over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath.

"My lords! Grandmaster Torch has sent for you. He wishes to meet with you at the baths within the Pleasure Salon of Calistria at once!"

The young lad gives a nod with his missive completed, but lingers for a moment with an expectant look on his face.

Sad Rock waves goodbye the baker-man.

"Don't let the yeast hater keep you down! The world needs baked goods!"

Sad Rock like scones.

Sad's tummy grumbles, wanting food.

Does that seem like something Grandmaster Torch would do?

You aren't surprised that Torch would summon you, he often has a way of popping up mid-adventure to stick his finger in things.

"Well done, lad, run along and tell the Grandmaster we're on our way!" Ramli says, tossing the boy a copper piece.

Sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 18

Thorel giggles at Sad Rock and happily follows Ramil, assuming that he knows something about Calistrian pleasure palaces.

A burly half-orc guard stands near the entrance to the bathhouse.

Grandmaster Torch reclines in one of the numerous small pools that make up the sauna, and steam fills the air. An attendant is rubbing a salve on Torch's burn-ravaged face, but quickly gets up and leaves when Grandmaster Torch gives a silent gesture.

"I have news from the Decemvirate and perhaps some assistance for you, but first I would like to hear what your progress is."

Picture of Torch - for those not aware of the man's appearance.

Thorel does not smile in the man's presence, and hides hirself away. There is no brightness in this one. Just shadow, like the elves below.

"Well, sir, someone seems to be impersonating graycloaks, from what we can tell. We believe there's a woman behind the thefts, and that the 'goods' are usually kept somewhere on the north side of the Ascendant Court, in a warehouse near the Pitview Pub. The mastermind apparently hates priests."

"Hmmmm..."

Torch lets out a long noise as he shifts inside the bath and ponders Ramli's update.

"Not bad for a half-day's effort. I have an idea..."

"Kreighton has discovered another relic, and he claims this could be the most important one yet. Supposedly, this keg was scavenged from the ashes of the original Cayden’s Hall and is the last keg Cayden Cailean drank from before he took the Test of the Starstone. After selling it to our relic dealer, the tavern keeper threw a huge celebration and bragged openly about how the Pathfinders were funding her retirement. By now, we can assume that we have piqued the interest of every would-be relic thief in Absalom."

"While I am loathe to put you in harm's way, this does present a unique opportunity. Should you accept responsibility for moving the keg from the pick-up location to the Grand Lodge, you will undoubtedly be the target of the relic thief we're looking for."

"You might be able to reverse the ambush and catch the bandit before she makes off with the relic - or follow the thief afterward to find out where she's been hiding."

Torch reclines again, arms behind his head and gives you all an appraising look, while awaiting your thoughts on his proposal.

Sad Rock addresses Grandmaster Torch, confuzzled.

"We no want Iuhmdee's Shart? Now want Caydeen's Asses? What kind donkey those? Atols?"

LOL at Sad Rock

Damvorak considers being bait, or wandering in and out of every warehouse in the district until the gray cloaked archer takes pot shots at them again.

"Grandmaster Torch, it is a good plan, a sound plan. I, at least, will do it." He looks to the others for support and camaraderie.
'Cooperate' - a core tenant of the Society.

Torch seems pleased by Damvorak's acceptance of his idea.

"Very good, I thought you might like the idea."

Gesturing with a wet hand towards a small table nearby, he adds.

"There is a scroll in a case there that you may find useful... in case you misplace something important."

Appearing satisfied with the outcome, he nods at you all.

You are all free to do anything else you wish here. You will pick up Cayden's Last Keg tomorrow morning, and Torch also provides you directions to the pick-up location, which is at a merchant's shop. You will successfully meet the merchant and pick up the relic, so if you were skeptical and wished to case the merchant's shop beforehand, feel free to post the roleplay - nothing suspicious is noted.

Benjamin nods his assent with the plan.

Thorel quietly follows in Damvorak's shadow, trying not to be seen by the Grandmaster.

Sad Rock looks about the chamber for food.

"Crunchmaster Toast, do you have food? Tummy hungry. Sad fight better with food."

At first, Torch looks bewildered by Sad Rock's inquiry, but then his eyes show some form of understanding and he gestures towards a plate of grapes near the scrollcase.

"Take anything you like, they're all yours."

Feel free to add any preparation you did this evening or the morning of taking possession of the relic.

**

Now standing around outside the merchant's shop, you are in possession of the relic known as Cayden's Last Keg.

The keg has old char marks on it as if it had been in a fire, and it still sloshes with the remnants of hops and ale. It's about 3 feet in diameter and 4 feet tall, weighing in just under 100 pounds.

Thankfully, the relic merchant has thoughtfully provided a small wagon and a donkey to assist in its transportation.

I need to know how you all are transporting the keg... i.e. who is in the cart if anyone, and where are you positioned about the cart as you work your way through the streets of Absalom?

Thorel meditates that evening on a crystal extracted from hir intricate bracelet. Visions of crimson dust storms against amber skies fill hir thoughts, and ze breathes contentedly. Here is nice. There was nicer.

Upon waking, ze takes a large octobook and studies a series of foldpages. Ze primes hir crystalline weapon and slides it into its resting place in hir bracelet-sheath. Donning the fantastic flutterflycloak, ze joins the party ready for a new day of wonders.

Ze walks alongside the cart, ready to scamper away from it at any sign of danger.

Damvorak walks behind the cart carefully watching for folks moving up on us over-quickly. He likely gets a little twitchy as most folks will be faster than the cart. After a while of constantly looking over his shoulder, he'll hop on the cart facing backward so he can better see who's approaching.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Apparently he's so focused on everyone, anyone who's actually sneaking up on them gets a free pass...

Sad Rock moves to inspect the ass, patting its back and checking its hooves.

"This Caydeen's Ass? Thought there were going to be more," Sad Rock says of the donkey pulling the cart. "Sad Rock protect ass. Maybe sure it not get hurt."

Sad Rock pulls out his club and stands defensively near the donkey.

"It's okay, little atol. Sad not monster. Sad friend. Here, have grape."

Sad shares his grapes with the donkey when he's not keeping watch.

"I think we're trying to protect the cask, my friend," Ramli tells Sad Rock as he walks behind the cart, trusting in his magic armor to protect him from any threats.

Unfortunately, he's distracted by Sad Rock's focus on the ass, forgetting to keep a close eye on the roofs around him for the likely inevitable attack.

Cast mage armor before heading out with the casket.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

When their business for the day is included, Harrol will take a walk around the pilgramage district with the glee of an excited tourist, spending the evening in prayer at the temple to Iomedae, and nearly being conned out of his coin in the Godsmarket. He'll try to see as much of Absalom as he can in one afternoon (which is precious little from his height in a crowd), before retiring to the society halls.
__

Young Harrol will sit in the wagon, using two charges of his wand of magic stone as they embark.

Guard Positions:
Thorel: Along side
Damvorak: On back, facing backwards
Sad Rock: Feeding donkey
Ramli: Walks behind cart
Harrol: Front of wagon
Benjamin: Somewhere :)

The wagon lurches to a start, and the donkey proves compliant with little guidance in beginning your trek through Absalom as "bait" for the relic thief.

After a few streets and alleyways, as you are about to pull onto one of the larger streets, a group of Graycloaks steps in front of you, where one - a fairly attractive brunette holds up her hand for the cart to halt.

With a booming of drums, followed swiftly by the music of horns, a parade begins to make its way down the street ahead of you, while a group of apparent revelers approaches the cart from the rear.

A man and woman walk hand-in-hand at the head of the group, and the woman gives Ramli a knowing smile as she approaches the rear of the cart.

Thorel stops and begins to fidget with hir armband and the crystalline weapon that lies within. "Låß•n ¡µm gr•ß•r ∑•r∂•n"

Poor man. He's with that woman and of course she sees Ramli and smiles at him.

Ramli grins.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Benjamin looks around nervously.

"This is not good."

Sad calms Caydeen's Ass and keeps his eyes open for trouble.

Sad Rock not monster.

Damvorak swings his legs under the wagon a little. He turns to see the parade oblivious to danger (based on my last perception check for just this sort of thing).

The parade passes along the main avenue without incident, and the Graycloaks part to allow your wagon to continue it's trek.

The revelers gathered beyond work their way past the cart and donkey, the woman giving Ramli a final, parting smile as they disappear into the crowds beyond.

However, a second group of revelers makes their way towards the donkey-pulled cart, deep in song about the improbable exploits of a Taldan prostitute.

Upon spotting the large keg in your cart, one of them slurs, "MOBILE ALE SERVICE!" and stumbles forward, somehow managing to produce an empty mug from somewhere on his person.

A couple of his friends grin and stumble forward, propelled by the promise of free alcohol.

The first drunk man shoves his cup into Damvorak's lap.

Damvorak gruffly knocks the cup aside (but not so hard that he flings it from the mans hand).

"This ale is not for sale. Begone young master or you'll feel the sting of my staff!"

Looks like our green Thorel was jumping the gun a little with hir casting. Not sure whether I can keep it. Happy to let it go — I was intentionally playing her as a bit too jumpy.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

Thorel laughs sweetly at the revelers, but does keep an eye out for trouble. Ze feels the weight of hir raygun as the mug lands in Damvorak's lap.

Part of that prior encounter was to get some Pathfinders to jump the gun.

I'm assuming you enlarged. And then shrank again a minute later. :)

"Aww, c'mon friendsh... jush a little f' our cupshh..."

Thorel believes these folks are drunk and want some booze.

@Damvorak: Intimidate check to go along with those words, please.

Ramli shrugs. "You can't fault them for wanting a drink, Damvorak. Who wouldn't?"

"Sadly, my friends, the keg is actually empty. The halfling there -- believe it or not -- drank it all. He follows Iomedae and is shorter than Nethy's staff, but he can drink like Cayden himself! You'll have better luck elsewhere, I'm afraid."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Intimidate: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

Damvorak makes his presence known. A little bit anyway.

Sad Rock makes sure Caydeen's Ass is safe, scratching his ass (his own) to pass the time.

"Alright, I shee how it ish!"

The drunken revelers stumble and bump their way back into the crowds before you can all plainly hear them approaching a merchant and demanding another swig of ale.

Sad Rock's newly adopted dog gives a parting bark of "Good riddance" to the foul smelling men, and looks up at its master for approval.

**

Nearly a full hour later, the wagon continues to creak its way through the city streets, coming to a stop as the Pathfinders' eyes narrow at the next "challenge" before them.

Here, a wagon loaded with over a dozen chicken cages has toppled onto its side ahead, and a farmer and a local vendor are arguing loudly over whose fault it was rather than clearing the alley.

As feathers float and waft their way onto your shoulders and the cart, Sad Rock's new companion sniffs the air and begins eagerly barking at the panicked chickens within the cart, stirred to a frenzy by the angry voices of the two men.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 10

Ramli looks around, to make sure there are no archers ready to fire but begins to approach the men as they seem to be arguing for real.

"Come, friends," he says with his usual grin. "Surely there is no reason to argue. Give us a minute and we'll have you on your way again in no time."

Ramli believes the men to be genuinely arguing and looking to assign blame to one another.

The first man - the farmer - points to the roof of a nearby building where chickens jump and hop about, pecking at the roof tiles.

"Who's going to fetch my lost chickens!"

The second man bends to the ground and retrieves a shattered fragment of pottery.

"And what about my urns? This one carried several snakes! Are they now lost in Absalom?"

Both men take steps towards each other, fury in their eyes.

@Ramli: Diplomacy checks for the diplomatic path, please.

Even as he tries to reason with the men, Ramli glances around to make sure there are no snakes nearby.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Damvorak shakes his head. Folks in this city are crazy. Just gather up the chickens and be done with it. Not worth getting into a desperate fight over!

He watches Ramli try to find peace between the men.

As Ramli begins smoothing things over between the two men, Harrol nervously glances about the alleyway and spots a robed woman gesturing and chanting from the darkness of the shadows to the south. The Iomedean cleric can clearly see her eyes focused on Cayden's Last Keg.

Surprise
23 "D" : Casts a spell
19 Harrol : TBD
8 "T" :

Round 1
23 "D" :
19 Sad Rock :
19 Harrol :
10 Damvorak :
9 Ramli :
8 "T" :
6 Benjamin :
5 Thorel :

Latest Map

Now Up: Harrol only in the surprise round.

"Look out!" the halfing shouts, attempting to foil the ambush with a spell of his own. "Iomedae, shield us from their gaze...""

Casting Obscuring Mist, to be dismissed on his initiative count next turn.

At Harrol's behest, swirling mists engulf the Pathfinders in a twenty-foot wide cloud around the halfling.

Footsteps can be heard approaching the cart under the cover of the fog and the cart shudders with a change in weight.

Surprise
23 "D" : Casts a spell
19 Harrol : Casts Obscuring Mist
8 "T" : ??

Round 1
23 "D" : ??
19 Sad Rock :
19 Harrol :
10 Damvorak :
9 Ramli :
8 "T" :
6 Benjamin :
5 Thorel :

Latest Map

Now Up: Everyone!

Not sure exactly what's happening, and hoping Harrol's not overreacting like Thorel before, Ramli quickly casts a protective spell on himself.

Casting mage armor

Round 1, Init 19

Unaware of anything happening outside of a new fog existing, Sad continues to scratch his ass (this time, the donkey). Sad delays.

This might be Iuhmday's Fart. Must be getting close to Shart.

Thorel takes out hir octoscrolls and casts a spell not unlike Ramli's. A purple haze once again forms around hir.