Defense of Brookside

Game Master caster4life

The farming hamlet of Brookside has suffered some violent and mysterious attacks.

Current map
Group Loot
Big maps
XP
NPCs
Intrigue notes


1,301 to 1,350 of 6,242 << first < prev | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | next > last >>

Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perception: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28 Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23

Perrin starts after Mel in concern, opening his mouth to speak, but then a word in Smythe's ramble catches his ear. Reaps? He looks in utter confusion from the broken window to the poster in Kazador's belt, and his expression stays much the same until they're called to meet with the Bishop.

Claudius' understanding manner seems to make Perrin relax, and he gives the Bishop's question some serious consideration. "Probably?" he says finally. "I mean, if you tell us that you're secretly plotting to take over the Continent, then no promises. I'd give my life to keep your information hidden, but I wouldn't give, like, everybody's." He stops talking when he feels that people are looking at him. Wait, was this one of those things where we're just supposed to say 'yes' without thinking about the nuance?


The corners of the Bishop's eyes wrinkle in a smile. "No, no. I've seen enough of power for one life. I wouldn't be foolish enough to want that or think I could take it. But there are those who want that and the people of Helm can only be protected by preventing war. Our forces are too small to keep us neutral if Iustia and the Conclave go to war. The only thing that protects us is the possible intervention of the other great power." His face grows heavier and heavier as he describes the situation.

Then he straightens up. "I propose to tell you some of what I know and ask for your information and your discretion. You have proved yourselves capable and could find more profitable employment or patronage than myself. But if you wish to save the lives of peaceful elven lads from the far west, conscripted farmers from Iustia's north, and the villagers of Helm, you'll find me your dedicated ally."

He looks at you all closely.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 33 ⇒ (7) + 33 = 40

You feel your hearts weighed in the balance as he looks past your eyes and into your selves.


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

"Then I will stay. Ostara holds community sacred -- the bonds that allow people to live in peace with one another. Warmongers exploit those bonds to drive men and women to destroy other communities in order to expand their own. War is thus a perversion of community. We must prevent it, if such lies within our power."

His eyes gazing upon her seem more like bottomless pools of wisdom. Mel dips her chin towards the floor. "I am shamed that my people have held the lives of yours in so little account."


Claudius nods. "Thank you, Melira. And thank you for your apology, though many of your race are completely innocent. But we have much to do. Thankfully, you halted Alric's desperate bid to free the prisoners. Now I must move carefully within my government to keep this information from reaching Iustia. Further, I am concerned about the Reapers' employment by the council. I believe there is something to this string of office break-ins. It would be a great favor to Helm were you to determine what that is for me."


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Something clicks.

Perrin gasps so deeply he almost falls over. Then the gasp turns into a relieved laugh, and the fall turns into a quivering bounce of excitement. "I get it! I finally get it! Everything finally makes sense." He stops, apparently surprised that no one else is sharing his epiphany. "Oh. Right. Explanations." He looks around the room, studying each face before settling on the Bishop's.

"You seem like a trustworthy person," he says hesitantly. "Of course, I'm two for two now on the whole mass murderer thing. So here's really, really hoping third time's the charm."

He takes a breath. "A few hours ago, Kazador, the coroner, and I were approached by a halfling spellcaster who asked to speak with us in private." The doctor starts pacing, and it's suddenly as though he's back in his lab in Brookside, working out his next alchemical formula. "When we agreed, she offered to pay us for information on the elves who were arrested." He doesn't meet Mel's eye, remembering the overwhelming instinct that Mel Would Not Approve.™ "Maybe we should have left right then. But it occurred to me that if she knew we were hiding something, her next step might be to go after one of the Astin guards and beat it out of them. So I gave her the basics, that the elves were connected to an attack on Brookside, but I told her we had no idea why. I figured if her bosses thought we and Helm were in the dark it might throw them off our track." He checks for reactions around the room, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm kind of new at this. But we learned something as well: whoever she was working for had inside information about the orc attacks, and her answers seemed to show that they weren't from Iustia or the Bishopric."

Perrin stops pacing and meets Claudius' eye. "I didn't put it together at the time. But then we read that the halfling worked for the Reapers, and you just said the Reapers are working for the council. Which means she never wanted to learn about the elves at all - she just wanted to find out what we know. Alric, the halfling, the lockboxes, the bakery... it's all part of the same plan."


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

Kazador nodded at this, looking both shocked at Perrin's intuition and wordplay, as well as embarrassed at his own role.

"I...never would have put that together. Then again, all I could say was that I was hired to protect the group and I did so. Uhm...who're the Reapers again?"


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

As Perrin speaks, Mel's expression passes through a series of phases.

First: mouth agape, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Second: mouth firmly closed, eyes screwed tight, the hand to her brow telegraphing pained acceptance.

Finally, the indrawn breath and long exhale. "Oh, Perrin," she says. "After all the trouble we went to to keep this quiet. What were you thinking? I thought you understood how sensitive this was! If Iustia gets even a hint of what the Council was up to, it could precipitate the very war we're trying to avoid! What possessed you to think it would be a good idea to tell an information broker all about it?"


Does Roet agree to secrecy?

Claudius sighs heavily at Perrin's description of their meeting with the halfling. "That is grave news indeed. How certain are you that this halfling will report her information to the Council and not Iustia? The fact that there have been orc attacks would be easy information to obtain."


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perrin frowns. "It's your city's poster." He gestures to the sheet in Kazador's possession. "Says she works for the Handle of the Reaper, and that's definitely her. Same as that Alric guy, right? And he broke in for the prisoners. Could have been an Iustian kidnapping, I guess..." He looks doubtful and pulls out the two scrolls of dimension door. "But I don't think it's a coincidence that the scroll he was carrying matches the one sent in with the pastries."

The doctor scratches his head thoughtfully. "There were some smaller things as well. A turn of phrase when she said they wanted to know what we know, the price she tried to charge when we asked about Iustia. A joke that I think I just now get." Perrin shrugs. "But the Reaper connection was what I was going from. If she's not loyal to them, or they're not loyal to the Council... then who knows?"

Only then does Perrin turn to Mel, and he bristles slightly at her rebuke. "I get that, Mel, that's why I lied to her. I told her we had no idea what they were trying to accomplish. Did you want her asking questions in Astin next? Or Brookside? Think Vors and Hirda could have stood up to a mage as powerful as Ukar and Elrin put together?"


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

"Perrin," Mel says sadly, reaching a hand up to his shoulder. "You're a good person. You believe people are good and well-intentioned. But these people are not like that. Colonel Smythe told me a bit about the Handle of the Reaper -- the word 'loyalty' is not in their vocabulary. Maybe they're working for the Council right now -- but given half an opportunity, they will sell their information to the highest bidder. Because in the end they serve no one but themselves."

"By the same token, you assume people are trustworthy," Mel goes on. "But people like this mage woman you spoke with don't share that assumption! They deal in lies and half-truths all the time. They're not going to just trust that you told them the truth. They'll double check your story to find out whether you were lying or not. And now they know exactly where to go to do that: Brookside. You haven't protected Hirda or Vors. You've pointed the Reaps directly to their doorsteps."


The elderly man considers. "I believe Melira is correct. Loyalty is not a consideration these criminals would have. I deeply hope this information does not reach the King or worse still his Cabinet of Peers. Can you do anything to prevent this?"

As natives of this continent, you're all aware that the only King is that of Iustia.

DC 18 K loc:

The Cabinet of Peers is a newly formed advisory board for the King of Iustia composed of the king's young friends, aids, and sycophants. They greatly encourage his ambition.


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perrin flinches as Mel's hand touches his shoulder, but he doesn't push it away. "You're right. I am a good person. But I'm not an idiot. You don't have to explain to me that the world isn't fair, that people will kick each other while they're down. I've set enough broken bones to learn that for myself."

He crosses to Kazador and holds out a hand to request the poster, looking it over for a moment. "So yes, maybe our treasonous friend will betray her employer. But she could have done that already: they clearly trusted her to be in the know. Maybe she's on the road to Astin as we speak - but again, that was on the table the minute we rode into town with the entire Astin guard."

"So," Perrin says, smiling for the first time since his revelation, "we'll stop her."

Claudius II wrote:
"Can you do anything to prevent this?"

"I'm glad you asked, Your Holiness. Because I'm not an idiot, I had her tailed from the moment she left the tavern. I discovered that she uses the sewers to travel or hide. What's more, I sold her an unusual stone that I can track with a spell from a furlong away. And in return, I got this..."

He opens his bag and carefully draws out a purse full of coins. "Doctors learn to pay attention to cleanliness. When you hand someone a purse, for instance, you leave behind tiny hairs and bits of skin. Minuscule body parts. Add in a possession" he holds up a coin "and a likeness" he holds up the poster "and you'll have a lovely little scrying focus." A pause. "You can scry, right? I saw the strength of your healing back there."


Claudius nods with a wry smile. "Yes those are very useful and I would be willing to cast this spell for you. However, I have an immense amount to do to keep this situation as under control as possible. Shall I cast the spell now?"


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

Mel shakes her head, clearly unconvinced that Perrin has learned his lesson; but she says nothing more on the topic for now.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19

"If .... stopping this reaper agent is the best way we can help right now, then I will certainly help," Mel says. "And scrying her would likely give us some useful information."

"But the ultimate problem isn't the Reapers or even the Council. It's King Stephen, and more particularly his ambitions for glory through war. The entire situation in Brookside, when you get down to it, was about the Council pre-positioning troops for a war they believe he will inevitably start."

Mel stamps her foot. "I don't believe things are inevitable until they've actually happened. Ultimately, if this war is to be prevented, we need to find a way to deal with King Stephen. Perhaps his ambition could be channeled into something less destructive. A large building program, perhaps. Or a series of tournaments or something. For that matter, isn't he childless? Maybe what he needs is a sweet young wife to keep him home and, er, otherwise occupied."

She ticks off a few more ideas. [b]"We could find a way to make war prohibitively costly to him. We could foment disunity amongst his nobles, so that he is forced to pay attention to matters at home rather than turning his gaze abroad. We could ... I don't know, we could get him a pet!"

She sighs. [b]"But I'm afraid I don't have any real idea how we could put any such plan into effect. And even if I did, it would likely solve the issue for a only few years. At best. There is never any shortage of warmongers in the world."

She turns to the others standing in the room -- particularly those had not as yet spoken. "What do you all think? I cannot see a clear path forward. And so much rides on every choice we're making right now ..."


Male Tiefling Alchemist 8 / Master Chymist 4 | HP 95/95 | AC 27 TO 16 FF 23 | F +14 R +15 W +10 | CMD 32 | Init +3 | Perc +17 DV (+21 Traps) | Mutate 3/3 | Bomb 12/12 | Cold 5 Elec 5 Fire 5
Mr. Heineous:
AC 37 TO 18 FF 31 | F +14 R +17 W +9 | CMD 39 | Init +7 | Perc +16 DV (+20 Traps)
Current Effects:
Mutated into Mr.Heineous, Barkskin (NA+5)

Roet, thoughtful this entire time, finally decides to speak.

First of all... I like the idea of secrecy. Information is precious. But what's done is done, and it's water under the bridge.

He coughed briefly, still apparently feeling some pain from before.

With that said, I understand our course of action is to track the Reapers. One problem at a time. - he turns to Claudius - Then, yes... I'd say please, your Eminence, help us with your scrying.


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

Belatedly, Mel realizes a question was asked but not answered. In an aside, she quietly says "Kazador, the 'Reaps' or 'Reapers' are a criminal organization called the Hand of the Reaper. They operate here in the Bishopric, as we've seen, but undoubtedly have branches elsewhere also. They're loosely associated with the faith of Norgorber, in his aspect as the Reaper of Reputation."


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

”This all sounds insanely dangerous. But I’m not sure which one more so. Fighting an entire organization of lads like that fooker, or this talk of changing a king’s mind! But, suppose we’d best get yon spell cast to catch up with the lass before she gets back to her people.”


Claudius nods. "Dangerous is right. Thankfully, most are not as dangerous as Alric though some, undoubtedly, are even more so." Claudius calls for a bowl of water to be brought to him and draws out a very fine silver mirror from his robes. He then grasps the bits of hair and skin Perrin extracts from the pouch and bows over the bowl while speaking some words, holding out a golden symbol.

GM Screen:

Will: 1d20 ⇒ 5
?: 1d100 ⇒ 34
?: 1d100 ⇒ 45

He sighs with a slight smile of satisfaction. "Some basic divinations will function through this vision." You look over his shoulder into the pool and see a halfling who looks somewhat similar to the woman you met in the tavern in some kind of closed, underground chamber lit by glowing points on the wall around her. She appears to be waiting impatiently. You see a scroll lying discarded on the barrel in front of her.

Read magic or DC 25 spellcraft combined with detect magic:

Scroll of sending.


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

Mel peers closely at the vision in the waters. Not having seen this halfling woman before, she takes methodical note of her appearance, identifying details, clothing, equipment, and surroundings.

Perception: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (7) + 14 = 21

She also attempts to recall any useful information about halflings from her three-year-long introductory survey course on the peoples of the world. (Elven undergraduate degrees take about 12 years; Mel's part way through her doctorate at this point, meaning she's been a university student for almost three decades.)

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (18) + 13 = 31

Sweet! GM, you can put "everything about halflings" on the list of stuff to make up. ^_^


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perrin hurries over and inspects the surface of the bowl, eyes widening then narrowing as he takes in the strange underground room. Guidance on self. He searches for signs of an entrance or exit, or anything else that could point to the location - the material of the wall, the nature of the lights, and so on. He watches the halfling's demeanor as well, to see if she's reacting to any unusual temperature or odor. His helpful bat familiar pokes their head over his shoulder and turns it toward the bowl, scanning the scene with echolocation to pierces visual illusions.

Ev Aid Another: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24 Perrin Perception: 1d20 + 11 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 11 + 2 + 1 = 23

He speaks softly to the Bishop. "Anything you can tell us about the town's sewers or underground passageways? Any guess about where this might be?"

Then Perrin turns his attention to the scroll on the barrel, and he scans for sources of magic within the room. Guidance and detect magic. Ev squeaks some helpful musings from his shoulder.

Ev Aid Another: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11 Perrin Spellcraft: 1d20 + 11 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 11 + 2 + 1 = 31

"Looks like that scroll is for sending messages. But it takes ten minutes to use, so she might be waiting for a reply." Does he identify any other auras in the room? For instance, the strong transmutation aura of the runestone?


Male Tiefling Alchemist 8 / Master Chymist 4 | HP 95/95 | AC 27 TO 16 FF 23 | F +14 R +15 W +10 | CMD 32 | Init +3 | Perc +17 DV (+21 Traps) | Mutate 3/3 | Bomb 12/12 | Cold 5 Elec 5 Fire 5
Mr. Heineous:
AC 37 TO 18 FF 31 | F +14 R +17 W +9 | CMD 39 | Init +7 | Perc +16 DV (+20 Traps)
Current Effects:
Mutated into Mr.Heineous, Barkskin (NA+5)

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19 Aid

Roet limits himself to use his trained eyes across the scene, trying to identify any details his friends might be missing. He gives them some space, however, so they can use their magical means and knowledge - stuff he's far from ever understanding.


Brookside:
The bishop furrows his brow and considers the location he is viewing.
K Local: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14

He shrugs. "Unfortunately, I haven't explored the bowels of my own city very thoroughly."

Mel:

Mel notices that the Halfling has some potion bottles, scrolls, provisions, and a small leather pack. She draws a bedroll out from her pack (reminding you of Perrin’s bag of holding) and sits on it. She also notices that the Halfling is in an enclosed rectangular brick chamber approximately 10 feet wide, 8 feet high, and 50 feet long. The Halfling is watching one end of the tunnel impatiently.

Perrin:

Perrin does detect the runestone’s magic on the Halfling, as well as a headband of charisma and a belt of dexterity. The bag is also magical (handy haversack of course). The aura of a potion of cure light wounds disappears when she places it in the bag. Judging by the Halfling’s expression, she doesn’t appreciate the smell of where she is waiting. She also looks distastefully at the damp brick walls.

Roet:

Roet notes that the brick wall at one end of the chamber the Halfling is staring at has a few fragments of what appear to be human bone lying in a corner. Something looks slightly suspicious about the bricks of the floor in that area.

You don’t have to share all of the information in your spoiler in character. You can simply say something like “Ferdinand tells his comrades what he learned. ”Highlight or two.”” People can then read each other’s spoilers.


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

"Looks like she's waiting for something, or someone," Mel says. "It's quite a large space, too -- long and narrow."

Go ahead and look at Mel's spoiler. Here's a Knowledge (local) check about the room. Is it a sewer? A crypt? Something else?

Kn (local): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19


Male Tiefling Alchemist 8 / Master Chymist 4 | HP 95/95 | AC 27 TO 16 FF 23 | F +14 R +15 W +10 | CMD 32 | Init +3 | Perc +17 DV (+21 Traps) | Mutate 3/3 | Bomb 12/12 | Cold 5 Elec 5 Fire 5
Mr. Heineous:
AC 37 TO 18 FF 31 | F +14 R +17 W +9 | CMD 39 | Init +7 | Perc +16 DV (+20 Traps)
Current Effects:
Mutated into Mr.Heineous, Barkskin (NA+5)

Wait, guys... Look, there! - he tries to point, showing the brick wall - Is that a bone? A human bone?

Please read Roet's spoiler.


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

"She's got that stone I sold her, and a good deal more besides." He reports what he observed. You can read the spoiler. "I could prepare a spell to track it, but it would take way too long - almost half an hour. We might be better off going through the entrance she used to get underground and seeing what we find. If she is waiting for someone, like Mel said, there could be others moving around down there that we could follow."

Roet Heineous wrote:
Wait, guys... Look, there! - he tries to point, showing the brick wall - Is that a bone? A human bone?

"Huh, that's odd. Do you think it might be part of some sort of concealed entrance?" Perrin inspects the bone fragments to see if they appear genuine. Profession (doctor): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

"This is the day that won't end," Mel mutters. "I'll get my stuff."

She pauses. "Hey, what happened to that coroner lady? She seemed awfully eager to take me into custody ..."


Perrin determines the fragments likely are human.

Claudius shakes his head. "Be careful. This looks exceptionally dangerous." He lifts his golden symbol again.

Healing: 8d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 4, 4, 6, 1, 3, 1) = 23

Roet and Kazador, you've received 46 healing total from the bishop.

He smiles at mention of Arla Fuller. "In a sense, she did. She is largely to thank for the rapidity with which I arrived here to verify her report. I will manage your legal status from here on out and ensure you have the means to procure the lodging you deem best."

Anyone else want to do something before heading out to where Ever saw her go underground?


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

"It's too bad we don't have time to spend this 'ere gold. This lass seems right dangerous. I'd rather be properly equipped, lest we just be corpses filled with gold for her to loot."


Brookside Campaign Journal

Kazador, you guys can go buy some loot before you try to take her on but it's up to you how long to wait. Fairly standard loot, like a numerical bonus armor of a common variety, ring of protection, belt of + stat, etc could be picked up a lot faster than less common stuff, like pauldrons of the bull or something that most wealthy adventurers wouldn't be interested in.


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

How about my gloves of the apprentice cheating, wayfinder, and ioun stone?


Brookside Campaign Journal

Those are fine. Curious. Are the gloves a prerequisite for something?


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

Not at all! They just give prestidigitation. For Kazador, he used to be a vain dwarf, who prided himself on his appearance. For him, washing off the soot and grime is a reflection of him pulling himself out of the dark place he was in. It takes up a slot, and it costs money which could go towards combat, but I figured that it made the most sense for his character


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

"That makes sense, long as we're quick about it." How about fate's shears?


Brookside Campaign Journal

I don't have a non-arbitrary system for determining what's common and what isn't but I haven't heard of that very useful and cool item before so it seems uncommon to me. Sorry. Looks great, though!


Claudius nods at all of you. "Well if you are going to be in my employ, secret or otherwise, I will support you the best I can with subtlety." He hands you each 100 platinum. "If that is all, I should return to the prisoners." He sighs wearily. "I have the major pieces of information but they may still hold valuable details for me to learn." He turns to exit the room.

Once two or more move to end this scene, we will. And once two or more move to head to the sewer grate, we will.


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perrin turns to Claudius before leaving. "Thank you so much for all your help! And also for generally not trying to take over the world. That's... appreciated."

When they get to the shop, Perrin ignores the magical arms and armor and makes a beeline for a rack of alchemical items in the corner. He hovers for a moment, scooping various concoctions into his arms, before hurrying over to the counter. Seven flasks of alchemist fire, four vials of alchemical grease, two smog smoke pellets, a burst jar, and a pouch of myrrh if they have it. He reaches for the money from the Bishop, then stops. With a wry smile, he pays with the 30 platinum pieces he got from Daisy for his answers (including a 2 pp tip). "Hey, sorry for the rush! I've got a couple items of my own to figure out, is there anyone here who could help me identify them?" If they can, Perrin will use guidance and aid another.


Perrin succeeds in finding and purchasing his alchemical ingredients. A young ratperson comes up from the back. The shopkeeper calls out to him "Hey Whisken, a gold for you if you can tell this guy what these things are!" The ratfolk nods eagerly. "Oh yes sir! Yes sir! Yes sir! I'll try!" The furry young fellow bends over the items and peers carefully at them.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 16 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 16 + 2 + 1 = 27

"Ooh ooh! Interesting! This one will make you have a clearer mind, these will make you really fast, and that one will make it harder for magic to affect you! Shiny! I don't know what that last belt does but it looks really great! I might be able to figure it out if I tried again after reading some more of my books!" The shopkeeper happily tosses him 5% of your tip. The small ratfolk chitters with glee and runs into the back of the shop, holding the coin up high in triumph.

You've now IDed the headband of wisdom, boots of speed, and pale green prism (cracked: +1 resistance bonus to saves).
Figured I'd put one of my unused aliases to use.


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perrin thanks the ratfolk warmly for his time. He'll keep the headband, of course, and I agree with Kazador that Mel should have the stone. I'm thinking maybe give the boots to Mel as well? Since it's typically easier for archers to get full-attacks, especially against enemies with flight and teleportation. We've got that wand of haste as well if there's time to use it.

Speaking of which, is Mel okay with Perrin UMDing wands and scrolls on her if he didn't make them himself?

As Perrin waits for the others, he spots one final purchase: crystal lenses that sharpen his vision into perfect clarity. Eyes of the eagle and a masterwork tool for Perception, if allowed.

When Mel reaches the front of the store, he offers her the boots and the stone "Here, I found out what these do. They should make you faster and tougher if we run into that halfling." His hand dips into a pocket as though to grab something else, but then it stops. "Hey. Are you okay? You seemed a bit... shaken up, earlier."


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

Kazador stood outside the pawn shop. He was wearing old, rusted and bloodstained half-plate. His hair was no better. He shivered as he gathered his courage.

”Ha! Look what the goblin dragged in. Here to beg for your heirlooms again? I’ll let you know that the ring was just sold.”

The man behind the desk smiled. It wasn’t a friendly one.

”Not beg. I’m here to buy it back.”

The man laughed again. ”Ha! With what? Look at you. IF! If you didn’t amuse me so much, runt, I’d have you thrown out. I-“

Kazador dropped the bag of platinum on the desk. Coins spilled out.

”How much is left?”

——

Kazador walked out looking like a different dwarf. Gleaming fullplate adorned his body. A wayfinder hung from his hip, his father’s ioun stone still within it. His hands were wrapped in his grandmother’s gloves. Enchanted to remove any stain or smell which might befoul his person. His beard was as pristine as his armor. Finally he matched his hammer. And yet he hung his head in shame. His ring...his helm...his amulet. All lost due to his weakness.

When he returned he looked at the party with distant eyes. ”I’m ready.” He said.


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

"Thank you, Your Grace," Mel says humbly, and turns to follow the others out.

As the group leaves the room, Mel pauses in the doorway and looks back over her shoulder at the elderly prelate. She inhales as if to speak; a brief struggle passes over her face. Then she shakes her head slightly, pulls her scarf over her ears, and follows them out into the town.

Back to human guise. Taking 10 on the Disguise check; Perception DC is 18.

---

Spoilered for length.

Mel buys some armor:
As the party reaches a portion of town thick with merchants, Mel spies a shop named "The Bravest Soul," sporting a sign bearing the image of an incredibly macho bunny rabbit taking a drag off a cigarette while ignoring the futile efforts of a fox to chew through its suit of full plate armor.

"Uh, excuse me," she says to the others. "I'll just be in that shop there. I'll meet you in a bit."

Entering the shop she finds a spare, functional room. All sorts of armor hangs from the walls: more common types such as breastplates and chain shirts, but also less common fare like jazerants, brigandines, cuirasses, chausses, and many other components of larger sets. The place smells of new leather and the tang of oiled metal. Mel looks curiously around.

"Welcome," comes a voice, and Mel turns her gaze from the array of armors to spy the proprietor: a wizened old human man. He sits atop a tall stool behind a clean, well polished pine counter. His face looks as though someone carved it from an apple and then dried it -- browned, sharp-angled, beardless, and somehow cheerful. His smile seems entirely unfeigned, and Mel notices that despite his advanced age he sports some well-developed muscles.

"Uh, good afternoon, sir," she says.

"My, how polite. What can I do for you, young woman?" he asks.

"Well, I'd like to sell some armor. And buy some." she says.

"You've come to the right place then. Which will it be first?"

"Buying, I guess. I mean, there's no sense selling the armor I've got unless I can get a better set to replace it," she says.

"Show me what you have now," the old man suggests, "And tell me what you're looking for."

"All right." Mel struggles out of the orcish chain shirt she has been wearing the past few days and spreads it out on the counter.

He turns an intense and critical eye on the chain shirt. "Hmm. Iron wire -- with a squared cross-section? Good heavens, the wire must have been hammered out by hand instead of drawn. No one does that any more ... ah. Orcish work, it must be! Yes, I see it now. Brass rivets to seal the rings -- fair amount of care shown in sealing each link, but poor choice of materials, that brass will eat away the iron given enough time. Decent quality iron, but ... what's this? Rust?" He looks at her sharply, holding up a finger bearing a smudge of tell-tale brownish powder from a patch near the bottom of the shirt.

Mel flushes. "I've only had it a few days," she mumbles. "It came from a an orcish raiding party. I guess I didn't notice the rust. And, err, I wouldn't know how to clean it. Just ... a wire brush, maybe?"

He shakes his head. "Sand, girl! Put it in a barrel partially full of fine sand. Roll it down a hill a few times. That'll take the rust right off. Then dampen a cloth with linseed oil and wipe it down thoroughly, at least once a week while you're in the field, or once a month if it's in storage."

"I would never have thought of that, but it makes perfect sense," Mel says.

"Good. You have to care for your armor if you expect it to keep you alive. Now. What is it you are looking for in armor, and how does this piece fail to meet your needs?"

"I ... well, basically, it's too noisy," Mel says. "I hate making noise when I move. I want to know that I can be absolutely quiet if I have to. Also, it's a tad on the heavy side, and it pulls a little funnily when I draw." She pantomimes drawing an arrow. "It hasn't caused a problem, I just don't like it much."

"Archer, eh?" he says. He holds out a hand imperiously. Quite involuntarily Mel puts her hand in his; he flips it over and examines the palm. "Ah, yes. Not just an archer; a bowyer. The calluses are a dead giveaway. Show me your bow, my dear."

Mel brings out her bow and passes it to the old man, who subjects it to an equally critical inspection as he had the armor, running his knotted hands down the smooth length, gently pulling on the string to test its draw, examining the bindings on the grip.

"Are you a bowyer as well, sir?" Mel asks, thoroughly intimidated.

He shakes his head and passes the bow back to her. "No. Merely a craftsman who appreciates fine craft, as that is."

Mel glows momentarily in this praise.

"Now. As to your armor, yes; I can see this would not suit you. Close, but not quite. It was crafted for a woman, but one who was a tad broader of shoulder and a bit taller than you are. Chain mail has a fair bit of give to it -- the links compact easily -- but the weight is not as evenly distributed as it might be if it had been made for you. There's a bit of extra material bunching up under your arm; that's likely the source of the pulling you've been feeling. And of course, it does jingle a bit when you move."

Mel nods. "What do you have that might suit me better?" she asks.

"Laine!" he calls.

From the back room, a muscular middle-aged woman in a heavy leather apron emerges. "Yes, Da?" she asks.

"If you would be so good as to get this lady's measurements, I believe she may be interested in a set of leathers. The lamellar ones, done in darkleaf."

"Oo!" she says. "Right on it!"

In short order the lady scoots Mel off to a side room and takes her measurements in an efficient, business-like manner. Half an hour later, Mel has a new set of armor: dark brown leather, almost black but not quite, and made of many small overlapping lamella. "Held together internally by links in a very similar pattern to chain mail," the old man tells her, "But fewer of them, and muffled by the leather about them. Try it on."

The armor fits perfectly. Mel makes a few motions, and finds herself totally unconstrained. She draws her bow and pulls -- the motion is smooth and unimpeded. She gently eases the tension on the bow, a broad smile spreading across her face. "This is perfect," she says. "How much?"

"Laine there has enchanted that particular piece," the old man says. "And did a fine job of it, too."

Laine nods a pleased acknowledgement of this praise, and then disappears into the back room again to continue whatever task she had been at before.

"Eighteen ten," he says as Laine leaves. "And I'll buy that orcish job off you for one twenty-five."

Mel hesitates for a moment. It's more money than she's ever had in one place before. But ... "Done," she says.

I want to live, she thinks to herself. The coin is no good if I'm dead.

She counts out the money, and passes over the chain shirt.

"Thank you very much, sir," she says. "What's your name, please?"

"I am Master Therian Windfall," he says. "And that was my daughter, Laine Windfall. She does most of the actual work, these days. Old hands. And you, young lady?" He rubs his arthritic knuckles.

She hesitates. Which name to give?

"Melira," she says. "Melira Elenariel. But I go by Mel Elden these days."

He nods, unsurprised. "I had wondered about the scarf," he says. "But I do not pry into my customers' lives."

"It's just ... I think my kind are likely to grow unpopular soon," she says.

"I see," he replies. She has the unnerving sense that perhaps he does.

"Well, thank you again," she finishes. "I should go."

He nods. "A pleasure."

Mel turns to leave the shop, reaches out for the door handle, and pauses as she realizes there is a painting on the interior of the door. It depicts a fat fox reclining lazily atop a pile of armor, spinning a lucky rabbit's foot on a chain around one finger and grinning a toothy grin.

She looks back over her shoulder.

"The bravest soul can still be a fool, Melira Elenariel," he says to her. "Something to keep in mind."

She nods jerkily and steps outside, thoroughly unnerved.

---

Mel catches up with Perrin in the alchemy shop, purchasing a few sundries there. She takes the boots and the stone almost reflexively as he hands them to her.

"Really?" she says. "Well ... all right. If she's half as dangerous as her friend was, I'll be glad of both."

She's inspecting the gem he handed her when he asks the next question. She stands there a long moment, twirling the stone in her fingers. "It's broken. See?" she holds it out to him, indicating the flaw.

DC 20 Sense Motive:
She's not talking about the gem.

Then Kazador arrives on the scene resplendent in apparently new armor, and Mel turns away from Perrin to greet him. "Kazador?" she says. "My goodness, I hardly recognized you!"


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Brookside Campaign Journal

Thanks for that great little scene, Mel. Take a hero point. Kazador, your scene probably deserves one too but I'm only allowing players to hold one at a time. I'll allow a tad more time for Roet's purchases and Mel and Perrin's interaction, especially given the site outages.


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

More than fair. I thank you though. Also, really did enjoy your post, Mel

Kazador avoided making eye contact as he adjusted his helm. It wasn't the original for the suit of armor. It was dwarven made, sure. But was it made by his great-grandfather? No.

"Aye. I can hardly recognize myself either, it's amazing what some coin can do, isn't it. Is everyone ready to do this?"


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

Perrin examines the stone in her hand, searching for the flaw. Appraise: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 Finding nothing, he looks up at Mel in confusion. Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22 "Oh." He blinks. "You're right. It is broken. But we're doing are best to fix it, aren't we?"

He smiles at Kazador's appearance. "Speaking of fixing up: not bad!" At the dwarf's question, he turns back to Mel. "Almost." Perrin draws his hand out of his pocket and holds it out to her. In the palm is a ring inscribed with the image of a crossbow. "Here. Take it. Use it. Bring more force to your arrows. And if you so much as mention the word "deserve," I swear to Ostara I will hit you over the head with it."


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

Thanks, Kazador! It took almost two hours to write, so I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Mel takes the ring. A stricken look passes over her face when she realizes what it is. She shakes her head and pockets the ring without trying it on.

"Let's get going," she says in a rough voice. "The longer we wait the harder this will get. Where's ... what's his name? Roet?" She looks around for the man.


Brookside Campaign Journal

You head to the tavern where Perrin, Kazador, and that intense coroner met the halfling. Behind it, you find a dark alley with a sewer grate in one corner. The layout of the building and the alley makes it easy for you to slip out of the moderate flow of traffic and into the alley without attracting attention, as far as you can tell.

What would you like to do?

Roet, hopefully you have time to make your shopping decisions soon. You can do so before my next post that advances the motion. If not, you can shop after this little mission (assuming you survive, which is never guaranteed).


Brookside Campaign Journal

Perhaps the site is working now? What would you like to do as you stand over this sewer grate?


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

Mel eyes the sewer grate unhappily. "One moment," she says, and dashes into the pub.

The bartender looks up as she comes in. "Evening, miss," he says. "What'll it be?"

"I want an entire bottle of your cheapest whiskey," Mel says.

His eyebrows go up. "All right then, that'll be one silver," he says, and pulls out a bottle of amber liquid labeled Longshank's Old Bootrot. "Yer might want ter be careful with that, miss," the bartender says. "It has a kick like a horse and tastes like one too."

"Perfect," Mel says, slaps down a silver coin on the counter and leaves, tucking the bottle into her sack.

"All right, I'm ready when you all are," she says as she returns to the others.


Dwarf 10HD Sentinel (4) Buffs (n/a) Wounds (24) HP (103) AC (33/13/30) Saves (14/9/7, +2 Hardy) Initiative (+6) MF (3/4) HP (1/1) CMD (28+4 trip and bull rush, +2 vs grapple, +1 disarm and sunder) Battlefield Protector (Sp) sanctuary (3/3) shield of faith (1/2) prayer (1/1)

”Is that how ye plan to fight the smell, lass?” Kazador asked with confusion. ”If so...its a brilliant plan.” He said with all sincerity.


Female UC Rogue (Phantom Thief) 8, Warpriest of Ostara 1, HP: 91/91, AC: 24:17:19, CMD: 26 Saves: 10:12:9 (+2 vs enchantment), Init +5 (+3 when bluff/SM involved); Status:
Skills:
Acro +13, Bluff +4, Climb +6, Diplo +12, Disg +21, Escape A +11, Heal +20, Kn(arc, nobles) +13, Kn(loc, planes) +21, Kn(nat) +16, Kn(rel) +17, Kn(others) +12, Ling +7, Perc +20, Sense M +8, Stealth +27, Surv +5, Swim +6

"I doubt the strongest whiskey in the world could kill that smell," Mel says, wrinkling her nose at the odors rising from the sewer. "But if I get stabbed down there, and I live through it, I want some good strong spirits to clean any filthy diseases out of the wound. Even though it's going to hurt a lot."

She looks around resignedly. "Well, no sense delaying any longer," she says, and gingerly lets herself down into the darkness below.


Male Human Shaman (Witch Doctor) 7 ----- AC 19, HP 45/45, Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +12, Init +2, Perception +23

As Mel hurries into the pub, Perrin quickly loops some strings around his hand and sets one of them aglow, creating a concealable light just like when defending Brookside.

Then he pulls out a flask of oily liquid, opens it carefully, and dumps it over his cloak. Alchemical grease. He offers similar flasks to the others. "The poster said she uses magic tentacles - this should make it harder for them to grab us. If you'd like."

When everyone is ready, Perrin crosses to the sewer grate and peers down, checking for signs of danger. Perrin Perception: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (6) + 19 = 25 If he finds none, he gestures for Ev to slip through the grate and look around. Ev Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 35

1,301 to 1,350 of 6,242 << first < prev | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | next > last >>
Community / Forums / Online Campaigns / Play-by-Post / Trouble in Brookside All Messageboards

Want to post a reply? Sign in.