DM Panic's Wounded Wisp Table 2 (Inactive)

Game Master wakedown

Starting a thread for the game-to-be...

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Checking in.

*Chimes ring* ... and queue boxed text intro!

You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission of utmost importance. Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.

Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.

“Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”

The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?”

Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.

“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.”

As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venture captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.

(Also, go ahead and briefly describe your characters as well with your first post and feel free to do any introductions)

Clad in an explorer's outfit soiled with oil stains and other smudges, with his blue pompadour styled hair sagging in the rain behind the pair of smoked goggles resting on his forehead, the gnome escorting the group looks miserable and grouchy as he addresses Dreng, "Yeah, yeah. Great. We'll get right on that. Who's holding onto the package for you?"

"The name's Van." He says to the others as he waits for Dreng's answer and takes a quick look at the map, "This rain sucks, let's get this over with quick."

After that amazing find last time, you'd think they'd at least show me the respect of giving me a Venture-Captain that isn't senile for the next one.

Any Knowledge rolls useful here? Is the location of the tavern easy to understand on the map?

The tavern's location is fairly easy to make out, and it's not too far.

"History no good. Must ask to find."

Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

"Surely you are familiar with the Wounded Wisp, Van? I should call this an auspicious beginning. I am Ṣ̄ilpin k̄hxng Ngeā Thī̀ Xāṣ̄ạy Xyū̀, although Xasay Xyu will suffice for more sun-dried tongues." He smiles an oversized grin meant to be friendly, but which comes across just as much as a disturbing rictus.

He wears a teak breastplate of earnest but modest workmanship over obviously foreign garb that is dark with macabre motifs, but jolly by Wayang standards. His skin is dark even by Wayang standards, with an elegant mane of indigo hair and eyes quite similar in color to the storm clouds overhead. A simple sword hangs at his hip, and a small shield is at his side - but more interesting would be the bundle of strange metal stencils depicting all manner of stylized creatures he keeps in a sweatless death-grip in his left hand.

The tiefling waves his left hand dismissively.
Away with you beg...errrr...sorry Sir. He says embarrassed while picking up the paper. After hearing the introductions.
A pleasure to meet you all, my name is Mollok and I will have to agree with master Van. The sooner we get away from this rain the better.

Also, are we suppose to bring the package back here to you Captain?

This frail and austere looking tiefling have left his youth behind him for some time now. He is dressed in an explorer's outfit impeccably tailored that follows the latest chelaxian fashion. Yet his ugly face full of old scars tells the tale of a different past.

"Yeah, yeah. Great. We'll get right on that. Who's holding onto the package for you?"

Dreng's eyes twinkle at Van's question and he smiles a broad grin.

"Ah! My good friend Heryn Gale. He should be working the bar at this very moment."

Dreng stares ahead blankly, as if forgetting something.

"Oh! And just so you know it when you see it - the parcel is actually a special vintage of wine from the cellar of the Wounded Wisp. I’ve been sampling their finer wines in descending order of bottling."

Drengle gives you all a look before shrugging and continuing to explain his request.

"I dare not disappear from my current role in this district, but I also would appreciate some comfort items. After all, I doubt anyone would judge a supposed beggar sipping from a bottle of wine."

"Once you arrive, just tell ol' Heryn that you need Dreng's bottle, he'll take you right to it."

With a smile, Dreng nods, spins on his heel and begins to stumble ahead in the rain like a drunen beggar.

Assuming that's all that's needed to satisfy everyone's questions... if folks have other questions for Dreng, we can always retcon them in a spoiler.

The party, with the curious instructions from the Society venture captain departs towards the Wisp.

The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink.

An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.

I walk up to the small folk's section of the bar (with Halflings and Gnomes everywhere, I imagine any halfway-cosmopolitan city in Golarion would include such a thing as a matter of course in the interior designs of its public buildings) and reveal my personal Pathfinder Society insignia to the barkeep.

"Heryn Gale? Oh, and a shot of Valashmai arrack with rosewater, if you would."

Map of the Wounded Wisp

Heryn Gale works the bar of the Wounded Wisp, catering directly to those sitting on stools while simultaneously preparing drinks for those at tables and coordinating the wait staff. The current talk of the bar is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.

Janira Gavix, known for guiding new recruits through their Confirmations, sits at a table entertaining new recruits.

A Keleshite man who is clearly a devotee of Sarenrae sits at another table enjoying his meal.

Two half-orcs, a male and female, sit at another table trading crude jokes.

Sitting at a table with a book is the military historian Yargos Gill.

**

Heryn nods to Xasay, clearly recognizing his symbol of the Open Road, and quickly pours his requested shot with impeccable skill.

"To the Unknown!" Xasay lifts his shot and consumes a third of it. His other hand expertly fans his shadow stencils like a deck of playing cards and holds up a particular four, which manage to cast shadows on the opposite wall that bear a remarkable resemblance his companions. He gestures to the shadows and says: "My friends and I need Dreng's bottle."

Van appears somewhat disconcerted on the way to the tavern.

My precious time wasted, ONCE AGAIN, because the old geezer wants us to pick us his wine! I need to seriously reconsider working for these people.

Once the group arrives, Van follows the wayang to the bar, but waves off anything to drink as he takes a look around while drumming his fingers with impatience against the counter. As he waits for the Gale guy to get them the requested booze, he says to mostly to himself, "I wonder if this place has a towel."

"*sip* A worthy idea! The Society ought to avail us of those, oughtn't it? It is said that a good towel is amongst the most useful implements any adventurer can hope to have...."

Heryn chuckles politely as he sets the bottle on the counter and overhears Xasay's conversation with the shadows.

"Dreng sent the lot of you?"

He gazes out at the assortment of wet Pathfinders in his establishment.

"His bottle's down in the cellar. No, no... there's no oversized rodents guarding it that I need help with."

He grins at his own joke, but shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I can't leave the bar alone, so if you'd be kind enough to give me a few minutes until my help arrives, which should be..."

Heryn gazes up at an old mechanical clock at the far end of the room.

"... fairly soon."

He gives a nod to the assorted Pathfinders who have made themselves at home in the Wisp. Janira Gavix can be heard mumbling something to herself about Confirmations...

Having been fairly quiet to this point, Helm seems uncomfortable in the tavern and does not partake of any alcohol.

"I believe we will simply wait to retrieve this bottle, as we have no other task here," he says.

The samurai does not take a seat, but waits patiently for their escort to arrive.

"You can just tell us where it is and we'll go get it, no problem." Van suggests with a shrug, "Who are you waiting for anyway? And, what's all this I'm hearing about some Sir Reinhart guy committing suicide?"

Taicho nods at Heryn's suggestion to wait ...
"Wait. Soon."
... then makes his way to stand near Helm, declining to participate in drink or leisure until the mission is complete.

At the mention of a knight committing suicide, Xasay's head tilts sideways and clockwise toward Van, at an angle and to a degree that can only be described as 'unnatural.'

"Who has stepped away from their own shadow, now? Now therein must lie a tale. Why does nobody tell me these things?!?"

Heryn wathces as Taicho and Helm oddly stand in wait, giving them a few moments to see if some sort of joke is about to unfold.

He then turns to Van and shakes his head.

"It's difficult to explain which exact bottle you'll be grabbing for Dreng. Best I take my break and show you down myself... not that I don't trust you all poking around our cellar..."

Heryn seems to consider matters for a moment, but then elaborates.

"Dreng sent a crew in for the last bottle, too. I'll be damned if they didn't knock over a dozen other bottles in the process."

Heryn seems like he's counting, before he continues again.

"Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Have a drink. It's on me today for making you wait. Feel free to socialize... after all that's what the Wisp is for -- you Pathfinders to socialize!"

Taking a few steps, he gestures to a dizzying array of colored bottles and brews on tap behind him.

Despite the invitation to have a seat and a drink on the house, Helm waves his hand dismissively at the suggestion. He obviously has no interest in a drink, and little interest in small talk.

"Though I would partake of some sake after our mission is complete, I will require my whits about me today, I am sure," the samurai responds.

A late arrival, Macdowell joins the group at the tavern. He nods to Janira Gavix as he enters. At least I am not mopping up that one's mess again.

Dreng send me. Apologies for the late time. The tiefling clad in black and red robes says to the party while adjusting his holy symbol of Asmodeus. Do you people have the bottle already?

This is probably one of their 'tests' again. Figures.

"Not thirsty, my man, not thirsty." The gnome says with a sigh, then asks Heryn Gale, "So, this Sir Reinhart, what have you heard about him? Also, who are you waiting on in order for us to get that bottle?"

Heryn shrugs.

"Sir Reinhart of Kenabres - he's some sort of Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north and plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone today. Folks are placing bets on if he succeeds or fails, no doubt there'll be crowds gathered later."

Heryn glances at the tavern's front door.

"And as for my relief... looks like it's here."

He gestures to the Pathfinders to follow.

"Follow me, and mind the stairs."

Basement Map

A set of wooden stairs descends from the main floor to a door, which upon opening leads into this tightly packed storeroom. Barrels, boxes, and crates of assorted foodstuffs and drink garnishes are pushed against the walls or under the stairs.

Heryn takes a few steps and then moves out of the way gesturing to a ten foot deep rift that bisects the basement.

"Quake did this back in '98. Haven't gotten a chance to fix it up yet so be careful."

A wooden plank serves as a "bridge" crossing the span.

"Dreng's bottle will be in the southeast corner. It's labeled Rookie's Cl.. a-hem... Brew. Big yellow label. You won't be able to miss it."

Heryn folds his arms and looks out across the cellar, expecting someone to cross the span and fetch the bottle besides himself.

Xasay looks at the bridge, then to Helm and MacDowell, smirks, and says to Van, "We'd best pass before the bridge is made to scream for mercy."

He crosses the plank.

Acrobatics if necessary: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Well that's inauspicious.

Reflex save if necessary: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Xasay scoots across the plank.

He finds it sturdy enough as long as he crosses slowly.

So, no acrobatic checks necessary? In that case.

Slowly and carefully MacDowell crosses to the other side.

Xasay and MacDowell stand on the far side of the gap.

They both easily spot the bottle in question and its brilliant yellow label.

Mission nominally accomplished, Xasay takes a quick look around at what else is here before taking a closer look at the bottle.

Helm joins the others on the other side of the gap. Seeing the damage caused by the earthquake, he carefully looks for signs of latent danger.

perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Xasay notes a varied assortment of liquor, wine, beers, meads - enough to keep Pathfinders inebriated for years.

Helm joins the others on the far side, but sees nothing out of the ordinary.

Xasay reads the bottle's label.

Taicho follows across the plank ...

Van follows the others across the pit, figuring if this was some sort of trick they might as well get on with it. He also casts Detect Magic on the cases of liquor, with the bottle they've come to pick up in the center.

Xasay advances to the bottle and glances at the yellow-ish label.

Heryn calls out from the stairs.

"Yeah, that's the one Dreng wants you to pull."

Xasay looks down at the label, which in fact reads PULL ME.

Van finds no auras of magic in the cellar.

Assuming he hasn't already, Xasay takes the bottle.

KRA-CHUNK.

As Xasay wraps his shadowy fingers around the bottle to be procured, he is rewarded with more sounds.

KRA-CHUNKA-CHUNK-CHIRRRRR....

The wine rack jostles and slides aside, revealing a passageway beyond. The bottle doesn't even come free, appearing to be nothing more than a cleverly disguised lever.

Heryn nods his head at the discovery.

"That right ol' bastard Dreng..."

Updated cellar map

"True mission revealed?"

How about sharing some knowledge master Heryn. What is expected of us here? MacDowell says looking at the passage.

Heryn shrugs.

"Don't you folks have some sort of mantra? Explore, cooperate, report?"

He gestures at the cavern.

"Seems like that might be what Dreng had in mind?"

Xasay notes some sort of interior cavern with an ancient-looking desk beyond the newly opened passage.

Helm frowns as he looks into the cavern.

"I am afraid I do not enjoy being led on a wild goose chase. I do not see the need for the subterfuge, and would prefer a straightforward mission. Nevertheless, it appears that our mission leads us into this cavern," the samurai says as he moves into the darkness.

As Helm proceeds into the cavern, a sturdy silver chain jutting from the ceiling ends in a glowing orb that radiates yellow light across the rectangular room. A simple desk of polished wood, stacked with documents and scattered notes, shelters a pair of wooden chests against the south wall.

A series of cracks along the eastern and western walls form makeshift entrances into exposed caverns.

I'll assume everyone has walked into the cave with the desk by later this afternoon unless they've posted otherwise.

Van just shakes his head sadly as the bottle reveals itself as just a ruse to send them somewhere potentially dangerous, "Well, there you go. Glad I didn't get boozed up before we came down here. Let's see what this desk is all about."

The arcanist begins to make his way into the room, but pauses as he remembers something, "Oh yeah, traps."

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 10

Satisfied with his cursory examination, he proceeds to the desk to look over the various papers and notes.

Taicho will follow Van to the desk and also look for traps, secrets, etc.
Perception: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 6 + 1 = 20 +1 for trapsmith

More pointless tests... One day the Dark Lord will remember these insults, I will make sure of it.
With a deep sigh MacDowell follows the others inside the cave.

Just as the Pathfinders begin investigating the collected journals and notes scattered across the desk, several of them (Taicho, Van, MacDowell and Helm to be exact) realize they are not alone.

Following up on your insticts, the four Pathfinders turn and spot a pair of hideously malformed, hairless, pustule-covered corpses moving quietly up through the side caverns, appearing to be have every intention to take your group by surprise.

Surprise Round:
23 Taicho :
20 Van :
18 Festrogs :
14 MacDowell :
13 Helm :
3 Xasay : Surprised!

Friendly neighborhood map link

DC16 Knowledge Religion would identify these relatively uncommon undead as festrogs.

Now Up: Taicho, Van (in the surprise round)

Xasay has simply been staring in muted elation at the surprise ever since he opened the passageway. Oh, what fun!

"Incoming!" Van warns the others as he casts Mage Armor on himself.