Explore, Report, Cooperate: A Pathfinder Society Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Nik B.

Fallen Fortress


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You are in Absalom, the mighty City at the Center of the World, and you've always longed to explore one of the countless ruins of failed conquerors that litter the plains outside the city's walls. You've heard rumors that one of the sealed siege castles has been laid open by a minor earthquake, and word on the street is that no one has yet entered the tower, which folks are calling the "Fallen Fortress."

Perhaps you've been doing some odd jobs for Absalom's Eagle Garrison, and the commanding officer sent you to ensure that whatever's going on at the Fallen Fortress is no threat to Absalom. Perhaps the local church of your god asked you to explore the ruined siege castle amid rumors of undead within the tower. Perhaps a historian approached you to collect any artifacts that might still be within the ruined tower. No matter the reason, you've been directed to The Black Cat, a small tavern outside the city walls near the Cairnlands to meet with a man named Stills—he'll give you further direction to the Fallen Fortress.

Feel free to use any of these reasons or come up with your own reason for wanting to meet with Mr. Stills and explore the Fallen Fortress; just work it into the conversation as you see fit.

A fire burns in the hearth as you enter The Black Cat, and only a few customers are scattered among the tables. No one looks up when you walk in or tries to get your attention—perhaps Stills is yet to arrive?

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

He was cute, in his own way, with that wave of ginger hair flopped across his forehead. And so nervous when he approached her - so many of the worshipful were, when it came to it. Blustery and burly, loud and looming, they all turned into awkward teenagers when the robes came off.

But then some turned back into stupid men and snakes once the prayers were completed and communion was taken. Like Ginger Wave. He had tithed up front, but for one prayer session only. His attempt to procure a second prayer session was less sweet and more violent, likely in line with his true nature, Esme reflected.

It ended poorly for Ginger Wave - the hubris of attempting such an act in a House of Seven Veils impressed Esme and her sisters, but not to the extent that Ginger Wave would be given over to mercy. Esme giggled at the thought. She had been given the privilege of Reaping first once Ginger Wave had been prepared. It was not a bountiful harvest, but as she sifted through the secrets that spilled from him, there was one that struck her. A private job offer from a collector in town; an abandoned ruin of a tower just recently opened for exploration by the elements. Was Ginger Wave a talented adventurer? He wouldn't likely remain as much after her sisters had their fill.

The job intrigued her - she claimed her bounty. She did not gamble lightly, but she needed this opportunity to make some more substantial coin. Her actions in Misery Row required investment to maintain secrecy, and that investment had begun to get dear. She was so close to cracking the den of degenerates who were trafficking bodies into Absalom for unsanctioned and sacrilegious carnal acts. She needed a name; she needed coin. Perhaps there would be more substantial bounty in this tower than found in the empty pockets of a failed rapist.

The black eye was not too difficult to cover up - her Qadiran sister had a balm for that. What was difficult to cover was her face, especially if she wished to talk to someone. The Black Cat was a tavern that she had visited before, and there was always the possibility of encountering a worshipful outside of mass. Still, the instructions had been clear, so Esmeralda strode into the small tavern, sniffing lightly at the smoke wafting slowly up the chimney.

She had no clue who she was looking for, but she had a name: "Stills". Her raven hair, catching the fire light and reflecting motes of violet matching her eyes, had been left to hang low over her traveler's cloak. Her locks were one of the things that so often attracted attention, and as she strode purposefully from the front door to the barkeep at the far end of the room, she did not doubt its continued power. Perhaps Stills would contact HER once he saw the padded armour doublet and walking stick she had employed to mark herself as "one up for an adventure".

The bartender got her second-best smile. "An ale, sweetheart." When in Wati, drink the water that the locals drink. Esme continued to muse on her Qadiran sister as she waited her drink and her employer.

Dark Archive

Male Halfling Sorcerer 1 | HP -3/7 (unconscious)| AC 13, T 11, FF 11 | CM. -2, CMD 10 | F+2 R+3 W+3 /+2 fear | Init +2, Perc +2
spells:
1st: 4/4

Lexel Eventhorne sat behind the counter of the curio shop the merchant quarter of Absalom rolling a single copper penny over his knuckles. As the coin passed from index to pinky finger and returned deftly over his short halfling digits, he contemplated the information he had just been relayed. How one of the ruined siege castle that lay just outside Absalom was opened during the recent earthquakes. How the interior may contain relics and artifacts from long ago that would fetch a fair amount of coin here in the shop. Most importantly, how Lexel was ready to take on the challenge of being the person who explored the ruins.

Truely Lexel had always longed to explore the ruins outside the great city walls. His magical skill was raw and untested but also not without power. He also was running short on time. His parents weren't getting younger. They weren't sick or dying yet but who knows how many more years they had.

Who knows how many more years we all have left for that matter?

He was making decent coin as a merchant but that it may take several lifetimes to earn enough to purchase the type of item he would need. His decision made, Lexel hopped down from his stool, grabbed his cloak and hat from the hook, spun the sign closing the small shop, locked the door and made his way through the streets of the city to the Black Cat Tavern. After walking for what seemed like hours he found himself outside the tavern.

He took one last deep breath and pushed the door open.

His thin frame topped with oversized pointed hat filled the frame, well as much as a halfling frame can. He can't help but let the excitement of the pending adventure bring a wide dimpled smile to his face as he scans the room looking for Stils. He makes his way to the bar clambering up onto a stool he motions to the barkeep to grab his attention. After ordering a berry wine, he scans the people in the bar he was told others would be interested in the "Fallen Fortress" and was more then a little curious whom he would meet.

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

"Brother Asha, a word?"

The wiry halfling straightened, brushing sweat off his brow with the back of a hand that still held a weed. "Yes, Father?" Since his arrival in Absalom, he'd spent some part of each day working the small fields of Erastil's shrine, outside the city walls. Ostensibly, his labor was trade for a bed and food, but Asha also found the work calming -- after years on the frontier, he needed a daily dose of familiar work to balance the overwhelming bustle of the great city.

"We do appreciate your help here, but there is a task perhaps more suited to your strengths. When we can, we contribute to the defense and safety of these communities beyond the walls. An old ruin has opened, and requires investigation."

"I understand, Father. Thank you for thinking of me." After taking a few minutes to finish weeding the row, Asha scrubbed (most of) the dirt from his hands, gathered up his possessions, and set off.

Stepping through the door of the Black Cat, his pack, bow, and quiver over his shoulder, Asha pauses, frowning slightly and blinking while his vision adjusts from the bright sunlight outside. Seeing Lexal smiling at him expectantly from a barstool, Asha moves to join him after a slight pause. Father Preuss hadn't said anything about his contact being a halfling? "Excuse me, might you be 'Stills'?"

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

This was his third day in Absalom, yet Blothar was still overwhelmed by all he saw. His wide smile and green eyes filled with child-like wonder revealed that he was most likely some country bumpkin on his first visit to a big city. The overland trip from his small hometown of Nybor to Sandpoint was uneventful, but having never been on a boat before, once he boarded the ship bound for City at the Center of the World, his adventure had begun!

Having no real plan for meeting the necessities of life, he made his way to the Temple of the Shining Star. When he first beheld the Mark--the largest sundial in the world--he felt his faith in Sarenrae renewed, a feeling he'd last felt when She granted him the ability to confer a shining halo of light upon his shield--his first divine spell.

After proving his skill with his cold iron scimitar, the clergy offered him a way to earn his keep: Explore the recently-exposed "Fallen Fortress," destroying the undead rumored to exist therein. He hurried excitedly to The Black Cat to meet with the contact the clergy told him of.

Blothar burst through the door of The Black Cat, removing his wide-brimmed foppish blue hat, revealing long, black, well-groomed, gorgeous hair. He took in the patrons, realizing he had no idea what the man he was supposed to meet looked like. When no one met his gaze, he bellowed, "Stills? With still no response, his greenly-tinted tanned cheeks turned a bright red, and the tall, lean, handsome half-orc made his way to the bar. Remembering the horrible taste of the grog the sailors shared with him when he asked to try drinking something new, Blothar stayed with what he knew and asked for an ale.

Asha & Esmeralda, are you displaying visible holy symbols?

Lexel, do you appear as devilish as your avatar, with red skin?

The Exchange

Male Half-orc, Frostkin Brawler 2 | hp 10/21 | AC 19(t12;f17)| CMB+5 CMD 19 (f17) | F+5 R+5 W-1 *immune cold weather | init+2 | Perc+4 | SM-1 | Surv +1 | Speed 30 | Melee unarmed strike +5; 1d6+3

It would seem that Ginger Wave was in a league of adventuring halflings, muses Esmeralda as she nurses her bitter ale. They couldn't be more different, though. The pointy hat one drinking berry wine seems insular and intense. The smiling one sporting the bow and the dirty hands feels fresh and breezy, like a---

Blothar wrote:
"Stills?"

The half-orc bellowing from the front door interrupts the half-elf's attention. Now there's a handsome fellow. Hair almost as pretty as mine. Esmeralda raises her hand, beckoning with a finger.

"Over here, handsome." Esmeralda makes no room to allow for space at the now-cramped bar, but points at a spot just alongside her right hip as a place for the new-comer to stand.

Remember, they may be expecting Ginger Wave. Keep your scarves close.

The curvy half-elf extends her hand coquettishly toward the half-orc in a greeting. Noting the look of confusion on the half-orc's face as he takes her hand, she responds with genuine mirth and a sparkle in her violet eyes. "Oh no, my dear fellow. I'm not "Stills". Esmeralda. Esmeralda Le Fi. I'm awaiting him as well, but, well.....I was lonely and I thought company would be appreciated."

She looks the half-orc up and down as a child would take in a mountain of lollies.

"And I was correct," she sighs breathily.

No obvious holy symbols. What about you?

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar sheepishly takes the offered hand and just barely brushes the back of it with his lips, careful not to allow his sharp, jutting bottom canines to touch the beauteous woman. "Well met, Lady Esmeralda," he says chivalrously. "Blothar, child of the Dawnflower, at your service," he adds as he curtsies, a crudely carved but large and prominently displayed wooden symbol of Sarenrae dangles from a cord around his neck as he does so.

Since you posted as Craggark instead of Esmeralda, there's some awkward half-orc love going on here.

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Apologies, all. Hopefully the Craggark post will be removed. I humbly submit this in its place. LOL @Blothar #tuskontuskaction

It would seem that Ginger Wave was in a league of adventuring halflings, muses Esmeralda as she nurses her bitter ale. They couldn't be more different, though. The pointy hat one drinking berry wine seems insular and intense. The smiling one sporting the bow and the dirty hands feels fresh and breezy, like a---

Blothar wrote:
"Stills?"

The half-orc bellowing from the front door interrupts the half-elf's attention. Now there's a handsome fellow. Hair almost as pretty as mine. Esmeralda raises her hand, beckoning with a finger.

"Over here, handsome." Esmeralda makes no room to allow for space at the now-cramped bar, but points at a spot just alongside her right hip as a place for the new-comer to stand.

Remember, they may be expecting Ginger Wave. Keep your scarves close.

The curvy half-elf extends her hand coquettishly toward the half-orc in a greeting. Noting the look of confusion on the half-orc's face as he takes her hand, she responds with genuine mirth and a sparkle in her violet eyes. "Oh no, my dear fellow. I'm not "Stills". Esmeralda. Esmeralda Le Fi. I'm awaiting him as well, but, well.....I was lonely and I thought company would be appreciated."

She looks the half-orc up and down as a child would take in a mountain of lollies.

"And I was correct," she sighs breathily.

No obvious holy symbols. What about you?

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

"Oh, Sarenrae! Just the thing to keep me warm."

The half-elf half-orc?squares her shoulders to Blothar, revealing her well-formed and strategically-padded doublet under her traveling cloak. A leather belt wrapped round her hips hangs off at a curious angle, appearing more for form than for function. Her leather boots extend just above the knee, and a dagger sits in a scabbard strapped to her left thigh. You note a knapsack slung at her feet at the base of the bar with a tramping stick topped with a head of ribbon and dried yellow flowers resting on top.

Ginger Wave in league with a Sarenrite? Maybe there's more to this toothy cleric than meets the initial eye...

Esmeralda murmurs, her eyes never breaking from the half-orc, and nods over her right shoulder at the halflings on stools at the bar.

"I believe they are here for Stills as well." Esmeralda adopts her widest-eyed look. "Now, we could go and make friends with them, or we could take some time to properly introduce ourselves."

Esmeralda punctuates the statement with a long sip of her beer, her eyes continuing their assault on Blothar's.

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar swallows deeply and can no longer meet Esmeralda's gaze, but tries very hard not to let his eyes wander to the rest of her body. His ale finally arrives, giving him the excuse he needs to break eye contact. "It would be...rude to ignore potential partn...er...compani...um...FRIENDS," he finally manages, the last word an uncharacteristic squeak in his otherwise strong and deep voice. He brushes some sweat from his brow and turns to the halflings. "Hail, wee folk! I am Blothar. Do you too seek this Stills?"

Does Pathfinder have a racial name for halflings besides the derogatory "Slip?" They wouldn't refer to themselves and halflings ("Oh hai! I'm half your size, and you represent normal, so call me a halfling!"), and "wee folk" seems so rude. I did a quick once-over Halflings of Golarion a few months ago, but didn't see anything there either. I know we can't use Hobbit(R), lol. Mystara and Forgotten Realms used the word "Hin" and I adopted that in my home games. Just wondering.

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Esmeralda smiles over her right shoulder at the referenced halflings, surreptitiously taking in Blothar's visible clothes and gear.

Righteous sun-worshipper...made his own holy symbol or given to him by someone dear...obviously not purchased unless he's dim and wouldn't that be ironic?...vain and confident...sweet and gentlemanly...a good bodyguard for this body...

Satisfied, the half-elf turns her purple eyes on the halflings.

"Esmeralda Le Fi. My friends call me Esme, and that's what you may call me, but I confess my heart skipped a beat at being called 'Lady'", - here she takes a deep intake of breath and pointedly defers her eyes to the floor in a practiced fashion for Blothar's benefit - "so you could call me that, too."

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

Asha nods to the half-orc in greeting. "I am, at least. So we have that in common, and with the good lady -- Esme? -- as well?"

He mentally notes the contrast between Blothar and Esme's fine clothes and grooming with his own plain garments brought from the monastery and the dirt under his nails. His holy symbol, Erastil's bow, is carved in wood and pinned to his tunic, in plain sight if smaller and less conspicuous than Blothar's.

This is an curious exploration party indeed -- I trust Father Preuss knew what he was sending me into, but it will be interesting to see what this Stills has in mind for us...when he finally appears.

"My name is Asha; if we're waiting for the same person, may I join you in a drink?" The halfling attempts to catch the bartender's eye for an ale to match the half-orc's.

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar smiles proudly when Esme says her heart skipped a beat.

To Asha, he says, "Please! It's on me!" Blothar notices Erastil's bow, and a warm smile comes to his face. "My parents--and me until just recently--help tend the fields in my home town of Nybor. Are you a hunter?"

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Esmeralda nods assent to the plain-clothed Halfling.

"Unh-hunh," the half-elf says, her lips parted ever so slightly as she takes in Asha.

Wooden bow...looks like a holy symbol...Erastil?...Desna?...or maybe just a big fan of bows...dirty hands and fingernails...humble and stolid...or maybe dirt-poor...seems well-fed and well-muscled though...

Attention drawn back to the half-orc, Esme fixes her gaze on his blue hat, running a delicate finger along the brim.

"Where is Nybor? And do they export wonderful hats like this? I'm not usually given over to hats, but the way it highlights your luscious locks..."


The bartender walks over and takes orders, offering Dwarven stout, Hardroot Cider, and Chelish wine—both white and red. He takes the orders silently and returns with the drinks.

I'm already very impressed, this is great!

Dark Archive

Male Halfling Sorcerer 1 | HP -3/7 (unconscious)| AC 13, T 11, FF 11 | CM. -2, CMD 10 | F+2 R+3 W+3 /+2 fear | Init +2, Perc +2
spells:
1st: 4/4
Asha Justfeather wrote:


Father Preuss hadn't said anything about his contact being a halfling? "Excuse me, might you be 'Stills'?"

"I'm afraid not my friend though we seem to be seeking the same person. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lexel Eventhorne, and it my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I also must say that by Cayden's cups it will be good to have another halfling on this venture."

Lexel unfassens his red cloak and removes his oversized hat placing both objects on the bar. Although both the cloak and hat bear the unmistakable indications of seeing far to much sun and salty sea air the garb Lexel wears underneath is finely crafted and well taken care of. A black silk kaftan with gold stitching and embroidery, matching relaxed fitting pants and crisp white tunic shirt adorn his body. He wears no army and the entirety of the rest of his adventuring gear sits on the ground in a plain backpack at the base of the barstool.

Blothar's entry and bellowing for Stils only makes this Halfling smile more. He was liking this ragtag group already. Halflings were more then capable but he once witnessed a Half-Orc grab a shoplifter and snap his forearm with just the strength of his grip. When the big Half-Orc addresses them Lexel responds: "Indeed we seek Stils as well."

Esme was another matter entirely. He'd seen this show and learned this lesson seven years before when he was 18. He had traveled to Katapesh with a group of other merchants and the group was wined, dined, and treated to the harems of the wealthy merchants that he was there to trade with. Everyone that is except for the young Halfling, who the merchants believed to be just another well dressed slave. Lexel saw the inverse reaction between the two; the more beautiful women they threw at the group the worse the trade deal was for his side...

That's not to say he didn't appreciate the sexual allure of women. He was a healthy, red blooded Absalomian Halfling male after all; and Esme was a wonderful specimen of femininity. He's wary of her because she is coming on too strong like a wonderful perfume that someone had sprayed far too much of. When it came to the Half-Elf Esmeralda Le Fi he just made a mental note that consisted of 2 words: gorgeous and dangerous.

@Blothar only when I summon the diabolical energies in my blood to bring forth magic does my physical appearance become devilish. I'm thinking black pool eyes for low level casting, red skin for mid level and full on translucent horns and wreathed in hellfire for high level spells.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Wizard (Diviner) 1 Health: 6/6

Officer Belgrym bellowed down the stony hall that was the barracks. "Attention!"

Boots clattered in unison as soldiers in varying garb and armor stood at the foot of their designated beds; posture straight, feet forward, focus ahead.

"Private Dalimathrin! Come forth!"

An elf of white hair tied back with a leather string marched his way to the front of the cobblestone complex. Coming to a stand not four feet from his commanding officer, the soldier saluted and replied in suitable fashion, "Sir, Private Dalimathrin reports!"

"At ease, soldier," and the elf lowered his salute, rested his hands behind his back, and stood calmly, waiting for orders. Silence still pervaded the room.

A document was brought forth from a pocket of Officer Belgrym, and handed to the elf. "Inside are instructions for a mission you are tasked with. Follow its directions, and report back when the objective is completed. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Then, on your way soldier," Belgrym stated. "The rest of you return to your duties!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

------------------------------------------

Reuhne had read the document, though this was truly his first mission. He had joined the military in order to make a name for himself, but up until this moment, all the elf had been doing was menial tasks that simply passed the time. Clerical and registry work, mostly, and even then, his duties revolved around mending equipment and tools, or cleaning various parts of the garrison. At least, now, he had opportunity to truly prove himself.

Arriving at the inn wasn't too difficult, as he had patrolled these parts before. Wearing a darkly dyed tunic of brown, leggings of a shade lighter, and basic leather boots, the elf bore little more than a sword at his side, an unstrung longbow with quiver on his back, and a backpack with what little belongings he possessed.

Eyeing his way through the tables and chairs, Reuhne paced his way to the bar, and waited patiently until the bartender gave the elf his attention.

"If you have watered ale, I would like a flagon," the soldier said while placing a coin on the counter. "Also, is there an individual here by the name of Stills?" Reuhne added.

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

"A hunter, yess...." the halfling pauses in his response to Blothar, derailed for a moment by Esme's gaze, only finishing his thought once she turns her attention back to the half-orc. "...er, and field work, and whatever else needs be done."

Turning back to Lexel, he offers, "So, do you have any idea of what 'this venture' involves? I only know that it requires exploration of some ruin, and that there may be danger - were you recruited with the same idea?"

Dark Archive

Male Halfling Sorcerer 1 | HP -3/7 (unconscious)| AC 13, T 11, FF 11 | CM. -2, CMD 10 | F+2 R+3 W+3 /+2 fear | Init +2, Perc +2
spells:
1st: 4/4

"I doubt I know scarcely more than you I'm afraid. I have lived in Absalom my entire life so I know that this city has come under attack many times throughout its long and glorious existence. Several of those wars lasted long enough that the enemies of Absalom built siege towers on the outskirts and surrounding islands. Though to be perfectly honest history was not my best subject in school...

Anyway, last week there were a series of small earthquakes. They were nothing major here in the city, in fact they barely knocked over a few items in my shop. Apparently one of those quakes was powerful enough to break open one of these towers."

Lexel interlaces his fingers and cracks his knuckles.

"There may be danger, yes. But there is also the possibility of antiquities and long forgotten war spoils for those skilled an brave enough to retrieve them."

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6
Lexel wrote:
"I also must say that by Cayden's cups it will be good to have another halfling on this venture."

Esmeralda took in the second halfling at that point.

By Cayden's cups?? Is it possible that we have an all-priest party? Would it then be a pilgrimage that I have interrupted by replacing Ginger Wave? And what god was he worshipping? Surely not Shelyn... A half-smile plays at the half-elf's lips as she cocks her head and looks at Lexel.

"That is a beautiful kaftan! Such gorgeous stitching! Did you get that in Kelesh? I must run that between my fingers...may I?"

Esmeralda slips her flagon onto the bar and steps away from her stool to approach Lexel, her hand extended. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lexel," and with a glance at Asha, "and you as well, Asha, honey."

This second halfling isn't carrying any visible weapons...perhaps he has them concealed?...finely-tailored clothing...red cloak...pointy hat...not any rogue I know would be accustomed to being stared at...maybe this is our priest of Shelyn?

Esmeralda runs the fabric between her fingers and coos.

Desidera, I do hope the sun is warm on your shoulders today.

The half-smile returns to her face as she muses on her Qadiran "sister". Her thoughts are quickly interrupted.

Reuhne wrote:
"If you have watered ale, I would like a flagon. Also, is there an individual here by the name of Stills?"

Oh, what do we have here?

"You're in the right place, sugar. Esmeralda bats her eyes at the shell-shocked-looking elf. "I'm Esmeralda, and I'm buying that drink for you if you'll promise to make my evening and join our little growing band of thrill-seekers.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Wizard (Diviner) 1 Health: 6/6

Blushing more than a little, the elf replied wearily, "My name is Reuhne. I'm tasked with protecting a group of adventurers, as well as scouting a facility. I intend not to drink more than is necessary, and I can pay for it myself, not that I don't appreciate the offer."

The soldier couldn't help but feel a bit at odds with this woman who seemed rather too ambitious for his own tastes. The pair of halflings did raise his grin to a slight chuckle, but once the barkeep brought him his drink, Reuhne pulled out his spellbook from one of his pockets, and began studying the script on one of his spells. A drab and already worn tome of sorts, the book was held together by sewn together scraps of leather, and a durable iron spine.

"Is there any information on this place that you three might have gleaned thus far?" Reuhne inquired stoically.

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

"I'm afraid I don't even know exactly where it is we're headed," Asha replies to the elf. "I think we're all waiting to see what this Stills person has to say when he shows. Unless he's already here and has simply been waiting for us to arrive?"

The halfling scans the room, looking for anybody who appears to be taking an interest in the party. Though, considering my companions, it might be more unusual for somebody to *not* be taking an interest in us! he thinks to himself with a smile.

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Reuhne, eh? Aren't you a study in opposites?

"There's four of us, sugar." Esmeralda gestures at the half-orc. "The handsome one in the hat is ours as well.

She fixes the elven soldier with a cocked eyebrow. "Five, with you on board - Oh, goodie!"she claps as she sees the worn book in his hands. "I know who's going to be reading me my bedtime stories!"

Very soldiery...but full elf...carrying a bow and a sword that look like they see little action...and a book that has seen plenty of it...tasked with protecting us?...what manner of priest might he be?...Torag?...is not that a dwarven deity? Or Nethys, the god of magic?"

Esmeralda muses in her head, taking in the group that Ginger Wave was to join. What if they knew that one of their former members was criminal? Their splendid religions with their good intentions, all masking base desires...men. All the same.

Esmeralda laughs amusedly at something one of the halflings says. This Stills character does not believe in timely starts. All the more time to get to know you all.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Wizard (Diviner) 1 Health: 6/6

half-orc?

Leaning over, his eyes widened a little. "Such a diverse group we have here."

Noticing Es' eyeing of his tome and weapons, Reuhne chimed in, "The book is a hand-me-down from a rather dilapidated master of mine, while the sword and bow are what I'm trained in. I may be a wizard, but I am skilled in certain capacities other than magic."

The longbow was made of martial grade yew wood, but nothing too fancy. All the while, the sword was embellished with his family crest; a teal cat's eye surrounded by white metal of the guard in the form of eye lids. Reuhne's hand instinctively went to the pommel, almost as if to make sure it's still there.

Looking the rest of his party up and down, he couldn't quite tell what the rest of their skills lay in. "What is the role call on this group?"

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6
Esme wrote:
"Where is Nybor? And do they export wonderful hats like this? I'm not usually given over to hats, but the way it highlights your luscious locks..."

"Nybor is a small town nearly a week's hike east and slightly north of Magnimar. It is a very accepting place, so I'm told. The way they talk, I thought all outsiders stuck with their own, but just look at our little group! A shame though; I've still not met a dwarf." He shifts his grip on his hat to give an excuse to brush his hand against Esme's. He chuckles as he continues, "I bought this hat and the matching coat from a merchant passing through. He said it was Osirian. That didn't mean much to me, but I was young and feeling rebellious; I wanted something outlandish."

Blothar's eyes widen at the sight of Lexel's fancy outfit. This trip to the city was even more than he had hoped for: Strange new people, the promise of adventure, and even a beautiful woman!

To Reuhne he says, "I am Blothar, acolyte of Sarenrae." He bows, not quite sure how to address one so obviously learned and professional. In an attempt to sound not too ignorant, he adds, "my superiors have warned me that this Fallen Fortress is rumored to be haunted by the undead." At this last word, Blothar bars his pearly white teeth and for the first time looks like a stereotypical half-orc, rage boiling in his eyes. "A horrible fate that, and I would gladly help put such souls to rest."

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

"Well then," Esmeralda nods, "the undead will be quite a poor match for this party full of holy agents and a wizard!" She looks around to some nods, and more than a few looks of confusion.

Looks like we're not all clerics, then. But what are we then, Lexel?

Esmeralda notices Blothar's fingers.

Very good.

Esmeralda blushes - a trick taught to her by one of her sisters - and withdraws her fingers slowly, pointedly avoiding Blothar's eyes.


As the group continues to converse, the door to the tavern swings open. A hooded man enters—you can barely make out his dark hair and the hint of a beard. His eyes dart around the room for just a moment before they fall on the group, and he approaches.

Before speaking, he scans the group; counting five, he searches the room quickly again and points to the far corner near the fireplace.

"You there—you're with us. Come join us," he shouts, rather louder than you'd expect, in the direction of a male half-elf sitting alone.

The half-elf approaches, and before he can say a word, the hooded man continues.

"Right then—I'm Stills. I don't have much time, so I'm going to make this quick.

"I have many contacts in Absalom, and most of you were sent by them to help out on this little excursion. You all have your own reasons for being here, and that's fine—I encourage you to explore the Fallen Fortress as thoroughly as possible and find whatever there is to find. Here's a map to the siege tower to get you started."

He places a well-worn map of the surrounding area down the table, and continues.

"I have but one simple favor to ask—a colleague of mine went to explore the Fallen Fortress a few days ago and hasn't returned. I'm afraid he's gotten himself into some trouble, so keep an eye out for him as you explore. He can take care of himself, but he was always a bit foolhardy, so who knows how careful he was during his exploration."

"Well then—any questions?"

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

"One question, if I may? What is the nature of your - and your...colleague's - interest in this ruin? If we know what your friend sought, it could help us as we attempt to locate him." Both to Stills and in answer to Rheune's question, he offers, "I am Asha, a warrior of Erastil's order. Father Preuss sent me to aid you."

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

"What does your friend look like, Master Stills?"

The no-nonsense tone from Esme is odd - none of you have heard this as of yet.

The half-elf in the meantime is taking in the other half-elf to join the band.

A half plus another half equals a whole...problem


Asha wrote:
What is the nature of your - and your...colleague's - interest in this ruin?

"My colleague and I seek nothing more or less than to explore the unexplored places all around us. Word of a newly-opened siege tower was too much for him to resist, it seems."

Esme wrote:
"What does your friend look like, Master Stills?"

"Average-looking, to be honest. Light-colored hair, pale skin; you wouldn't peg him as an adventurer if you saw him. Goes by the name Balenar Forsend."

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

For the first time since entering the tavern, Blothar's gears start to turn. Asha's question seemed rather pointed, and Blothar tried to gauge Stills' reaction.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

He then remembered he was down to just over a dozen gold in his pouch, and the church said nothing about paying him. "What of, um...salvage rights?" He looked around nervously at the others, suddenly afraid such a topic was taboo.

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Now there's a practical question. Practical but foolish. I somehow have to pretend not to have heard the rules about property laws in this ruined tower.

"Good question, Blothar! And pray, do tell, Master Stills - what kinds of things might have your friend Balenar discovered? Do you think he could be dead? Would you want us to bring back his body? What if he was turned undead? Oh dear..."

Esmeralda looks faint and reaches out to Asha to rest her trembling hand on the beefy halfling's chest.

Perhaps a few helpings of drama will serve to avoid an answer to Blothar's question.

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

Or to make me look foolishly melodramatic and fragile. Oh well. Win-win for me - I do so very much need protecting. Ooooh. This halfling Asha IS beefy.

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar reaches out to Esme to help her stabilize herself.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

Asha starts and goes slightly wide-eyed at the jolt of Esme's unexpected touch, losing his train of thought as his gaze jumps from Stills to the attractive half-elf --

sense motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

-- and then trying to suppress a smile. She's certainly been confident and assured enough to this point -- hardly the type to go faint at the mere idea of undeath! What is her interest, then, in making a show? ...Not that I'm one to complain.

Deciding to play along, the halfling puts his hand over Esme's, looking up at her and reassuring, "We'll just have to be prepared for whatever may have befallen Mr. Forsend -- whether he is simply stuck somewhere or has found some grimmer fate, we'll be going in numbers enough to have each others' backs."

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Ooooo. Suave. I could get used to this.

Esmeralda blushes and pulls her hand gently away.

"That is very solid reassurance, Asha. I'll hold you to your word on it."

And in a lowered tone with a giggle, the half-elf leans forward and murmurs in his sandy locks: "And I've been told that my back is a very good one to have."

She leans over to pick up her pack and staff lying on the floor, turning her back to Asha to do so. Straightening up and shouldering her rucksack, she winks at Blothar.

"Fair enough, Master Stills. Where do we find you when we return?"

Dark Archive

Male Halfling Sorcerer 1 | HP -3/7 (unconscious)| AC 13, T 11, FF 11 | CM. -2, CMD 10 | F+2 R+3 W+3 /+2 fear | Init +2, Perc +2
spells:
1st: 4/4

Lexel listens intently to Stils information and climbs down from his stool to take a look at the map to this fallen Fortress. He nods in acknowledgment to the other Half-Elf male joining the group. The commotion of Esmeralda feigned fainting spell pulls his attention away from the papers.

sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 16

She is a beauty but a terrible actress. Lexel bemuses to himself as he returns to studying the map Stils provided. There are worse things to fear then death.

"Very well mister Stils, this task seems simple enough. We will do our best to see Baelnar home safe or the return of his corpse. Have you secured us transportation or do we need to procure this? We should leave post haste in case Baelnar is incapacitated."


Seeing through much of the posturing, Stills responded directly.

"I'm not sure what you'll find, valuable or otherwise. If you find my colleague, help him as best you can. If you find him dead, kindly return with his body. If you find him undead . . . do what you must. As for valuables—take whatever you find. Though I do urge you to write down you findings; you never know when those records will come in handy. I have nothing else for you, including transportation, and I must be off. I'll find you upon your return."

With that, and with an unexpected grace, Stills turned on his heel and walked out the door of the tavern.

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Interesting. Nothing save for mapping is desired by the superiors. I could get comfortable with superiors allowing for this level of independence.

After Stills leaves, Esmeralda turns to the party, abruptly business-like.

"Well, it would seem that we are the masters of our own domain, would it not? Left to sort out this fallen fortress all on our own, and even someone to rescue..."

She looks at Lexel. "What do you say, darling? Wanna explore with me?"

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Wizard (Diviner) 1 Health: 6/6

The show of conversation was a bit much for him, and when Es almost feinted, Reuhne flashed a moment of concern, and then let his mind wander back to the situation at hand.

He's not one to examine one's motives, but rather, to assume the best of people.

Putting his book back in his leg pocket, the elf brought his gaze to the sword at his hip, and couldn't help but trace a finger along the lids of the eye.

Time to prove my skills, eh? he thought to himself. Ancestors, guide me Nervousness was something the soldier strayed away from, but caught in the moment, Reuhne couldn't help but wonder if he was truly up to the task.

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar can hardly contain his excitement. "I've been as ready as I'll ever be! Let's be on our way!"

He notices Reuhne gazing at the beautiful antique sword at his side. "Don't worry, my friend; I'm sure you'll get to use it soon enough!"

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

Esmeralda walks in the center of the fresh-faced band of thrill-seekers as they find their way to the nearest gate facing the Cairnlands. The halfling Lexel studies the map, indicating the correct path once Esmeralda is finished giggling and blowing kisses at the gate guard attachment.

"You never know if they'll be needed to assist us upon returning to town," she replies to Asha's stern look. "Besides, I wouldn't let them catch a kiss from me until you had first grab, sugar!" She giggles lightly, swishing her traveling cloak around herself.

The Cairnlands prove rough and jagged terrain, and Esmeralda makes good use of her walking staff to pick her way through the rubble.

I wonder what I heard of this rough-hewn area or this newly-opened tower from the guards as I flirted with them?

Diplomacy (Gather Info): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar looks more than a little jealous as Esme works the guards. He chuckles a little at her joke about a kiss from Asha, but then wonders suspiciously if she actually meant it.

Dark Archive

Male Halfling Sorcerer 1 | HP -3/7 (unconscious)| AC 13, T 11, FF 11 | CM. -2, CMD 10 | F+2 R+3 W+3 /+2 fear | Init +2, Perc +2
spells:
1st: 4/4

Lexel directs the group to the gate through the city with the most direct route to the fallen fortress. He takes one last look at the map before folding it carefully and putting it away in a belt pouch next to some green glass bottle. As the group reaches the gate Lexel removes his pack from his shoulders and sets it on the ground. A metal thud can be heard as the bag contacts the cobblestones. Lexel opens the bag and removes the source of the sound. Drawing out a halfling sized morningstar with a brass ring on a swivel on the end. He slips the ring over a hook on his belt near his right hip. Next a single stiletto dagger is removed from the bag and slid inside his left boot.

Lexel reaches back into the bag a third time and withdraws a thick glass flask filled with a deep red liquid. Undoing the stopper he takes a pull of the liquid then swishes it around coating his mouth and sucks in small burst of air to bring the the full flavor of the wine to life before swallowing it down. He rescuers the stopper and places the wine back into his pack.

He watches as Esmeralda work her magic on my the guards at the gate impressed by the skill she uses to gather the intelligence. "I am indeed ready to explore." he say to himself more then to anybody and strides out confidently with the group into the Carinlands that surround Absalom.

Silver Crusade

Female 1/2-Elf Cleric 1| HP -3/7 |AC13 t12; ff11| CMB+0 CMD 12 |F+1 R+2 W+5/+2 enchant| Init +2 Perc +4 SM +2 |Channel 1/6

"Oooo! A fellow lover of the grape!" Esmeralda squats down in her leather boots next to Lexel, a healthy breadth of thigh gaping from under her padded coat. "I'm most prone to drink a Chelish glass, but give me a Galtan red and I will NOT be responsible for what I do, or where I wake up." She giggles and straightens again, a spear in her hand where the walking staff used to be. She glances at Reuhne's raised eyebrow as she stuffs down her top the decorative fabric flowers that had been obscuring the blade.

"A girl has to be prepared." She winks at the gaping elf as she links her arm with that of the half-orc. "Blothar, are we going to have some fun today?"

And make some coin? Ginger Wave - this had better be worth the black eye...

Esmeralda surreptitiously loosens the leather belt hung low around her hips - a nervous gesture, but also a functional one, readying her whip to be easily drawn if needed.

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

Asha nods approval - and some relief - as his companions produce their arms. If this group can fight half so well as we flirt, we should be in good shape for a rescue mission! he thinks.

Having made no attempt to conceal his own weapons, he needs only to untie the peacebond on his sword and reach a hand over his shoulder to ensure his arrows sit properly in their quiver as the others make their own preparations.

"I've never picked up a taste for wine, myself," he offers. "Our vale was a bit cold for grapes -- but master distiller Nyack did near alchemy with grain."

Of course, there was always had plenty of wine flowing back at the estate, he recalls, though the gods themselves couldn't save any halfling who dared touch it.

"You've the map, Lexel? How long do you suppose our trip is?" he asks, to distract himself back from sour memories.

Silver Crusade

Male Half-Orc Cleric 1 | HP 10/10 | AC17 t11 ff16 | CMB+2 CMD 13 | F+3 R+2 W+5 | Init +1 Perc +3 SM +7 | Channel 5/5 | Touch of Good 5/6

Blothar beams as the half-elf takes his arm. "Indeed, milady!"

"I've only really ever drank ale. My father spoke of how his tribe used to drink the blood of their enemies, but that's one taste I've no wish to develop."

Seeing everyone else with their weapons, he pats the hilt of the scimitar at his side.

Liberty's Edge

Male Half-Elf Rogue 1 | AC:15/13/12 | Fort:+0 Ref:+5 Will:+2 | Init:+3 | Perc:+8 | HP:9/9 | Conditions: sickened

Prior to Esme's Arrival at The Black Cat:

I make some assumptions about the storyline here, so don't take all of this too seriously.

"North by northwest through the Foreign Quarter to the Ivy District..." Viswall recited his father's instructions to himself aloud. I hope this friend of Father's is as sociable and connected as Father remembers him, otherwise I'll be penniless and stranded in a world of men. He looks uneasily at some of the taldan sailors on his father's ship, eyeing him with a look with which Viswall is all too familiar: disdain. Growing up the half-elven son and sole heir of a prominent, if eccentric, elven noble in the River Kingdoms left him at the end of such looks from man and elf alike.

Finally, as the ship draws near the docks, the young lord flips off the edge of the ship and lands on the Docks of Absalom, everything he owns in a pack on his shoulders. He fixes his steel pauldron, such that his family crest is quite visible, the blue and white waves gleaming in the sunlight. He checks his rapier, ensuring the blade is placed correctly in its sheathe, and marches forward, eyeballing the sun rather than paying mind to street signs or asking directions. He does his best to wrap his chestnut hair around his pointed ears before lifting the hood of his leather dustcloak to hide his fair elven skin and large amber eyes.

As he passes by the dock-merchants and approaches the Coins, he notices a pair of shady individuals making a deal over naught but pieces of parchment, is about to investigate when he hears a rather loud conversation, "He's gone all by himself!" a middle-aged, and homely-looking, yet well-dressed woman seems to be arguing desperately with a brown-haired and slightly bearded man, who was clearly already in a hurry.

"I know that, Ms. Forsend! Don't you think I know that! Why do you think I petitioned for the Lodge issue a summons in the first place?" This assuages the woman's anger, but not her desperation. "All the good it did me."

"So what do we do now?" She asks.

"Now I need to continue spreading the word, and maybe we'll get some neo-"

"Excuse me," Viswall says, surprising them both, and frankly himself as he didn't realize he had snuck up to listen more closely, "But might I be of service? I was headed..." he rethinks his statement and instead continues, "I'd come to Absalom to take a place among the Society members, but I fear my desire would be empty if I simply walked by the two of you. Who has gone all by whose-self and what can I do to help?" The man looked Viswall up and down, seeing his custom-tailored and fillagried leather armor, rapier, and pauldron, he apparently approved and pointed him in the direction of The Black Cat.

Quote:

Before speaking, he scans the group; counting five, he searches the room quickly again and points to the far corner near the fireplace.

"You there—you're with us. Come join us," he shouts, rather louder than you'd expect, in the direction of a male half-elf sitting alone.

The half-elf approaches, and before he can say a word, the hooded man continues.

Viswall smiles to himself, his hood still in place, he's never had a chance to practice his stealth-craft before. He wonders if any of them noticed him sitting by the fire listening and watching all they were doing from the moment Esmerelda entered until he was called on. He's certain his father would be proud. He returns the welcoming smiles and nods of his soon-to-be co-adventurers as he listens to the whole story from this Mr. Stills.

Viswall follows the lot of them out of the Cat, he silently listens and observes as he had since. Never speak unless you must. Those who speak often fail to listen, and a fighter's senses and perception of their surroundings are paramount to his survival, his father's voice echoes in his head.

Liberty's Edge

Male Halfling Paladin 1 | HP -4/11 | AC 17 t 14 ff 14 | CMD 15 | F+4 R+4 W+4 / +6 vs fear | Init +5 | Perc +3 | Spells: 0 | Smite: 0/1

Asha looks the quiet half-elf up and down. Sure he'll offer up what he wants, same as the rest of us. But some things need to be known before you walk into danger with a person -- "What should we call you?" he asks Viswall lightly. "Stills didn't leave much time for introductions after you arrived."


After a few hours of steady but not strenuous travel, you reach the location marked on Stills's map. The ruined siege castle rises out of the churned earth of the Cairnlands. No doors or windows mar the otherwise smooth expanse of the tower's walls.

The tower is quarterfoil in plan; its eastern wing has largely collapsed, exposing the interior floors to the open air. Only the topmost level seems whole, though its eastern portion hangs precariously over the mountain of rubble left by the collapse. At ground level, the rubble frames a gaping hole in the side of the building that provides access to the tower's darkened interior.

Esme:
So charmed was the guard by your advances that he put in extra effort trying to show off his knowledge of the Cairnlands.

"Oh the Cairnlands, m'lady; I know them well. A wide field of shattered weapons barrow mounds, and mass graves that surrounds the city of Absalom. Rising from the war-torn earth like the grasping arms of the dead are countless siege castles, towers, and fortresses constructed over millennia by would-be warlords who tried to take the great city and inevitably failed. Like forgotten monuments to failed conquerors, the siege castles of Absalom beckon the brave, the fearless, and the foolish with the promise of adventure and untold treasures, ever ready to create heroes or to entomb the fallen."

Liberty's Edge

Male Half-Elf Rogue 1 | AC:15/13/12 | Fort:+0 Ref:+5 Will:+2 | Init:+3 | Perc:+8 | HP:9/9 | Conditions: sickened
Quote:
"What should we call you?" he asks Viswall lightly. "Stills didn't leave much time for introductions after you arrived."

"Quite right!" the young half-elf said, letting his hood down to show his long chestnut locks, amber eyes, and handsome face. Extending his hand, he says, "Viswall, heir apparent to the house Vargasa of the River Kingdoms." After dispensing his rehearsed title, he hazards a sideways glance at Rheune, hoping he knows naught of the circumstances of Viswall's birth, before returning his attention to the mighty halfling, "Friends call me 'V'."

As they approach the wreckage, V suppresses the giddiness that naturally swells up in him at the thought of such an adventure, It wouldn't do to be grinning and skipping with a man's life on the line. The nobleman couches low and rocks forward onto the balls of his feet to hide the sounds of his approach to the ruin. He deftly equips his rapier as he draws nearer and scans the site for safe points of entry, traps, and signs of other life.

stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28
perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

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