Feral's Devil We Know (Inactive)

Game Master Feral

Ryster nods as his wipes his firearm down with an oily rag. You got it pal. What happened to ya?

Cestis rubs his forehead as he climbs to his feet and struggles to recall the events from earlier in the day.

"I was attacked. I remember thinking it was Aspis trickery but it wasn't. There was a crazed man - a worshiper of Groetus - and some undead. I heard them saying something about selling us as slaves so I struggled and they knocked me out."

Ryster glances at his party with raised eyebrows. Well, your freed now. Ryster moves along and opens the other cells. You others be alright? The same thing happen to you then?

While the group attends to the prisoners, Rhyno continue to watch for any new arrivals or the undead to rise and continue the fight.

With the group's aid Cestis makes it back to the Pathfinder lodge where Hestram debriefs him. The burly Venture Captain is quite pleased with the party's performance and, after arranging for a stipend in their name, suggests that they stay close. There may be more in Cassomir that the Society needs their help with...

This marks the end of Part I. We'll get Part II started as soon as I'm able to get chronicles out. I hope everyone had fun.

It's been three months since the party's efforts help stop a slavery ring, headed by a small cult of Groetus worshipers, from snatching citizens off of Cassomir's streets and rescued one of their peers. Since Dalirio Teppish was stopped, the brazen kidnappings have ended and peace has returned to the bustling coastal Taldan city... mostly... Wealthy citizens still disappear from time to time and worse, rumors of Derro - freakish underground dwelling gnome-like humanoids - living in the sewers have began to surface.

It's late morning on one chilly Oathday when the party is summoned to a Venture Captain's office in the Cassomir Society lodge.

Venture-Captain Hestia Themis, a small, dark-haired, and dark-eyed Taldan woman, sits behind her enormous blackwood desk in the Pathfinder lodge in Cassomir and clears her throat. “My friend, the Countess Arieta Patrizia, is dead. She escaped her capture by the fiends who operate beneath Cassomir only to succumb to disease and wounds incured in Cassomir’s disgusting sewers. Ordinarily, this would be a matter for the Taldan authorities, but Arieta came to me directly after escaping and recounted a story that leads me to the natural conclusion that only the Pathfinder Society can resolve this issue.”

Venture-Captain Themis rises and paces back and forth behind her desk. “Arieta told me of an artifact she saw while in captivity below Cassomir. This artifact, called the jet rat, is known to us, but we must confirm that what she saw is indeed true. She claims to have seen it transform normal rats into something bigger, more vile and mean. If that’s true, the artifact she saw down there is old, evil, and should be stored safely in the vault s beneath the Grand Lodge in Absalom where we can study, catalog, and examine it. Worse, she claims to have seen this object in the hands of the derros, vile Darklands creatures that we have long suspected are responsible for the Cassomir kidnappings. I have a map here that shows the location of the sewer grate Arieta was dropped through when she was kidnapped. She could not, due to her illness, recall much about how she got to the location where they kept her in captivity, but she knows where they dropped her into the sewers and you’ll find that location on this map.”

Venture-Captain Themis stops pacing and eyes you across her desk. “Bring me back this artifact — if you happen to free a few captured Taldans along the way, that’s good news, but the artifact is your mission. Any questions?”

While the Venture Captain speaks, Rhyno is again furiously scribbling on a scrap of parchment. Go to Sewer. Find Jet Rat. Derro bad. After blotting the parchment, he stows it safely in the scroll case and rises to full height. He twists and flexes his muscles, writing always gives him cramps. He causally swings a new maul over his shoulder. "None from me. Seems pretty basic."

In the room lounges a Tien-Dan man of roughly 5'7" is dressed in loose-fitting cloth pants and heavy boots, and a vest without a shirt. On the back, a single character in Tien are embroidered, 刀. Over it hangs a backpack of miscellaneous goods and a pair of blades of different lengths. Around his belt are stuffed a number of pointed pieces of metal, designed like a 4-pointed star.

"You're serious; some sewer romp," he states with a scowl. "I gotta say, at least Sheila effing Heidmarch sent us on a mountain hike. Can you at least promise me you'll at least feel a little bad when there's some bone monstrosity, climbing out of Hell to eat us this time?"

The venture captain rolls her eyes, "I promise to feel a little bad."

Alexia sighs. "Sewers... really?"

"I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle dear", the Venture Captain chides.

"You two, the quiet ones, did you have any questions?"

Waiting on Chorister and Ryster to check in.

Did anyone discern the nature of the disease Arieta succumbed to? Ryster says while fiddling with his firearm.

"I believe it was some strain of filth fever from her escape through the sewers. Normally it would have been easily treatable but in her condition... she had no chance."

Ryster nods. Is there anything you can tells us about these derro?

Blah. Weekends. Busy. But I'm checking in!

Choristers nose seems to turn up of it's own accord when the 'jet rat' is mentioned, and a foul taste seems to have entered his mouth, causing him visible discomfort. He gathers saliva, and discreetly looks around for a place to politely dispose of it.

"The derro are insane and dangerous but I'm confident your group can handle anything they can throw your way. I can tell you that they innately have a few supernatural powers, mostly focused around trickery but they can conjure magical darkness and create localized thunderclaps too. Treat them like you would any other serious threat and you'll be fine."

Hestia stifles a laugh at Chorister's discomfort and then gestures to the door.

"Well off with you. I have paperwork to see to and you have an artifact to find."

Chorister smiles with his mouth full, walking quickly to the door and spits the saliva into a corner, licking his lips several times to clear the taste. He waits for Sen Tarlpan to emerge, sticking a hand out to clasp with the short but well armed man, "Well met good sir, I am Chorister Burr. I do not uhhh... not believe we'd have the pleasure!"

Sen snorts a mild chuckle out. "Heh, a bleeding heart with a pretty face to match. At least you'll pretend to care. Still, a sewer jaunt is better than paperwork." He stands to leave and pauses in the doorway as if he was going to add something else but, decided against it and waits for the rest outside.

While outside, Sen tests the man's strength with the handshake. "Sen. Single-handedly killed a bear and saved some magic elf last mission. You may have heard of me."

Ha, yeah, pre-sleep posts, trying to respond is tough when were both going at it.

Chorister blanches as the strength in the mans grip, but manages to keep from crying out, retracting his hand when it's released to massage it gently with his other hand. "Mr. Sen you say? I may have heard tell of such a feat, well done sir! Quite uhhh... impressive I must say."

@Sen, I agree. Not the kindest medium to two people typing stuff at the same time. :)

Rhyno looks at the newcomer to their group as he boasts of his escapades. "I have not heard of that, then again, we've been assigned here fer 3 months. Bears're difficult ta kill, unless they are cubs." he says with a bit of a grin, offering his own hand to the man.

Sen returns the second handshake, this time being outdone in strength. "A bear's a bear when the gamble simply calls for the first cut. I play to win. Don't think I caught anyone's name back there, aside from the delicate Mr. Bear (Burr)..."

”I be called Rhyno Steelarm. If this be anything like the last mission, I’ll be the one taking all the cuts’n bruises.” replies the ulfen, thumping his chest a bit. ”Any other questions for the Venture Captain, or can we be going?”

In a quieter voice, Chorister kind of calls out over the words of the conversing warriors, "It's uhhh.... Mr. Burr, uhhh... yes."

lets go!

Ryster grumbles in protest at Rhyno's statement. Hey! I took it on the chin a couple times! He glances over at Sen and says in conspiratorial whisper. Though I do try to stay behind the big man as much as possible. He finishes with a wink and holds a hand out to Sen. Name's Ryster, nice to make your acquaintance. I think I read a little of the Chronicle for the mission you speak of. Wouldn't know it by lookin' at me, but I read when I can..

As the group gets ready to move out, Rhyno pipes up. ”So I was thinkin. Sewers are smelly. What if we took some cloth’n made a mask with some perfume’r something on it? Also, I think I be wanting to buy a set of scrubby cloths I can burn after we’re done.”

Is that possible GM, and how much would it cost?

Sen points a thumb to Rhyno while continuing to speak with Ryster, making his way out of the room. "Other than maybe Scribbles here, I think I can safely say that I've never really spent more than a few minutes around anyone I'd peg as someone who might actually read those things. Too many words." Sen looks around at the immediate area. "It's a good idea, though I think I'm just going to get this thing cleaned again after we're done anyways. Vests like this are rough to get commissioned over here."

CRB clothes, and just don't track keeping them after the scenario. Or, If you own Ultimate Equipment, here's a better list.

A gold piece or two will easily get you a cheap suit of clothing.

It takes the better part of an hour to traverse Cassomir's streets and find the specified sewer entrance but the party arrives there without incident. The stink proves to be as potent as you'd expected.

Murky puddles dot the tile floor below, which gently slopes toward the room’s center where some of the puddles are very slowly draining into a large, 10-foot-by-10-foot drain. Thick, sticky webs cover most of the corners of the room, and several large vermin appear to be caught in the webs. The sound of running water can be heard to the east.

Everyone can roll a perception check.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

Rhyno looks around behind his perfumed mask, clearly unhappy to be traipsing around the city’s waste, oblivious of the otehr goings on in the area.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Ryster can't stop from smirking at the big man's perfumed scarf and sees not much more than that..

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

In a mocking, high-pitched voice with a faux southern Avistan accent, Sen compliments the newly-bought gear and is clearly distracted by it as well. "Oh, Mr. Scribbles, I dare say; your new scarf smells dee-viine. You simply must tell me who your tailor is when we're through."

Rhyno growls at the newcomer’s mockery, his grip tightening on his massive hammer, ”I would stop that if I were you, I have killed men for less. Be glad you are a part of the society and benefit from their protection.”

Ryster explodes into laughter at Sen's comment, only to put a semi-serious face up when Rhyno retorts, though the dwarf can't hide the tears rolling down his cheeks. When the big man turns away, Ryster gives Sen an elbow in the side. Well done! Deeeee-vine! Heh! Ryster says in a loud whisper, before exploding into chuckles again.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Chorister has a kerchief up to his face, partially obscuring his view of things, but the smell is quite overpowering. "I fail to see the humor." he says, his voice muffled by the cloth.

Sen responds to Rhyno with a smirk. "Ha, no kiddin', big guy; same here. Tell you what, want to make a wager of this? No cash prize or nothin', since I've already gotten enough of a verbal beating for that..." Sen sheepishly looks around a little before turning back to Rhyno. "Highest kill count wins. No prize beyond bragging rights, unless you want to, uh, up the stakes, per se. Like writing in our reports about how great the victor is, or somethin'. Or go around and wear somethin' really awful. Like a perfume-laden scarf."

Perception check: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (3) + 0 = 3

"Hordes of Hades!" she says, as she breathes in the aroma. Ripping a piece from her chemise, she ties a makeshift kerchief around her face.

Rhyno shakes his head in the negative at Sen’s wager ”Landing the fatal blow is nothing special. If Ryster shoots a beast so it barely clings ta life, and one of us ends it, does that mean we be better than Ryster? No. Kill tallies only promote ego stroking and working as individuals instead of the team we supposed to be.”

"Ugh, no fun, c'mon, competition makes the individual strive to be better, which betters the team, no? Plus, only biggest contribution counts sounds like a fine term for me."

Unfortunately, the entire party is too busy reeling from the smell or chatting to spot the enormous spider – easily the size of a large dog – advancing up the wall.

With a hiss, it flings a string of webbing at Rhyno.

Touch: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 5 - 2 = 23

The sticky fluid hits the big Ulfen square in the chest gumming up his limbs and sticking him to the ground.

Rhyno is entangled. He can try to break free as a standard action (strength check).

Alexia: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Chorister: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Rhyno: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Rhyster: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Sen: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
Bug: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Sen is up.

And here we go.. Ryster says as his sees Rhyno webbed.

Can Web be cut, in the Universal Monster Ability?

The webbing can be cut but that won't remove the entangled condition.

Moving over that the specifically-called-out grate move as close as I can to the spider to throw shurkien (and draw a katana as part of the move.)

Shuiken(point blank): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 161d2 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Sen’s missile connects earning a shriek of pain from the giant spider.

Unfortunately, the grate proves to be rusted through and buckles underneath his weight.

Reflex save.

The spider turns to Alexia and shoots another strand of sticky webbing.

Web: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 5 - 2 = 6

But the spider misses, splattering webbing across her feet instead.

The party is up – possibly with Sen in a pit.

Ref: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 Pits, my love, how could you?!?

As Sen attempts to swear in Tien about missing the attack, he stomps the ground in anger and the grate buckles beneath him.

Rhyno flexes his mighty muscles in hopes of bursting the bonds before they become to binding.

STR: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Sen falls 10 feet before he hits another sub-grate. For better and worse, this grate appears to be in a lot better condition.

Fall: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Rhyno’s mighty flex gets the web stretching but it proves to be just pliant enough to keep from snapping.

It’s harder for the victim to break free than it is for someone else to break him free.

Ryster, Alexia, Chorister, and Sen (in pit) are up.

Alexia flicks her wrist and pronounces a word.

Casting the now ubiquitous daze (DC 14).

Ryster moves up to the edge of the hole and fires his musket at the spider.

RTA PBS: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 6 + 1 = 14
Damage: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Sen sheathes his Katana while muttering something, and begins climbing at an accelerated rate.

Climb, -5 penalty: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8