You’ve been assigned to a task in Absalom. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin has summoned you to the Grand Lodge early in the morning. Feel free to introduce yourselves to each other and get to know each other - he hasn’t arrived yet.
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An immaculately dressed Nagaji wearing studded leather armor carrying a heavy wooden shield, a shortbow, morningstar and longsword (all still with the price tags attached, and nary a scratch on any of it) enters and offers a courtly bow.
"I am Yagajimoro Iodoma, paladin of Iomedae. I am divine hunter of evil, and I stand ready." Yagaji offers another deep bow, mostly because he's not sure what else to do.
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A figure in dark hides slides into the room, spear resting idly on his shoulder. Almost unnoticed a grey wolf slinks in behind him like a silent shadow.
Surveying the room for an instant, the stranger lowers his hood, revealing a heavily bearded face and dark hair.
A half elf, a ... thing, and another race I do not recognize, I wanted to have new experiences and here we are. Immediately new things.
Nodding to his fellow pathfinders, he allows "I'm Brock" gesturing to his wolf, "this is Buck. We are hunters.".
With that he finds a corner wall to lean against, one hand idly stroking Buck's ears.
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The halfling bounds into the bar, smile on his face and spellbook under his arm. He quickly gives the group a once over all the while smiling.
Oh a nagaji, never meet one of them before. Very fun.
"Hi there fellow Pathfinders, nice to meet you I am Abolt and I will do what I can to lend a hand with my spells."
He scans the room again.
"No sign of the boss yet?"
He walks over to the nagaji checking out his assortment of weapons and issues a small, appreciative, whistle.
A young female clerk pokes her head into the room you were assigned to and does a brief headcount, before frowning. "Hmmm, I think we're still short one. Venture-Captain Valsin should be along shortly, though!" She withdraws from the room and you can briefly hear her voice in the hall before another woman enters, this time a half-elf bearing a tray of cups, two pitchers, and some small finger foods neatly arranged on a wooden platter. She sets the whole thing down on a round table in the center.
"Breakfast!" she announces. "Feel free to help yourself." Nodding to the others there, she, too, slips away.
There are fruits, small chunks of meats cheeses along with some rolls on the tray. The pitchers, when tested, reveal a sweet fruit juice as well as lemon water.
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A shadow darkens the doorway; a loutish heap of a man attempts to slink his way past the threshold. He is stopped in his tracks by the half-elf attendant, and presses to the side to allow her passage.
"My deepest apologies, my fellow gentle... uh... men?"
He squints at the scaled nagaji.
"Appears it I'm tardy to the breakfast table! Don't get up on account of me."
He drops his baggage off to the side of the room - an overstuffed pack whose contents are immediately discernible to the most unobservant of eyes. The tip of a scabbard peeks out of a hastily mended hole. A shield dangling from a buckled strap. This man is certainly not a light packer.
The sweaty, swarthy man lurches to the table, grabs the final empty chair, and plops down with all the grace of an ox. He grabs the nearest piece of meat, a handful of grapes, and rolls them up in a slice of cheese. In between bites, he scratches at a rather nasty looking patch of scabby skin at the back of his neck.
"Gods, where are my manners? Corbett Cromwell, pleasure to meet the lot o' you."
He glances around the table, hoping to see an excited glint in someone's eye.
"Seriously? Corbett Cromwell? Corbett "The Crab" Cromwell? 'Ardest man who ever trudged the Puddles? Fastest hands in the Flatsoles?"
The Crab takes a too-large chomp out of the leg of roast beast he's holding. "None of yer's big fans of the bareknuckle circuit, I guess."
Hrmph.
When Ambrus Valsin does arrive some handful of minutes later, it’s quick and without much ado. He slips into the room and stands before you, beginning your briefing.
“Pathfinders,” he addresses you. “One of our own left a few days ago to investigate one of the siege castles. It was sealed until just the day before his departure, but was laid open by a minor earthquake. Balenar is no freshly confirmed field agent, so the fact that he hasn’t come back to report suggests that something has gone wrong. Your task is to go and find Balenar Forsend. If he needs a rescue, do it. Help him finish the job and bring him back, safe and sound.” Valsin rubs at his temples, before adding, “Go into the city, get whatever supplies you need, and get moving. There’s no telling what’s happened to Balenar.”
He looks each of you in the eye, nods, satisfied with whatever it is he sees in you, and departs, on to whatever other tasks he has yet to get to that day.
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Corbett makes a quick fist, then opens it to offer a greased hand to the wizard. "Bare-knuckles, y'know? Pleasure, mate."
Once he realizes that Valsin's briefing is coming to a close, Corbett starts to accumulate as much food as his meaty paws can hold from the table, eyes darting to his left and right. He stuffs a heel of hard bread into his mouth, then clears the contents of a platter into a pouch attached to his belt.
"I, er... I'm ready whenever."
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Brock watches the large man's entrance with interest and some amuzement.
Buck watches with wariness initially then, noticing his master's lack of alarm, resumes licking a paw. Obviously the wolf didn't follow the bareknuckle circuit.
Once the mission is laid out Brock looks over his pack and comments, "we are ready."
Moving to the table, Brock takes cheese and meats for himself and Buck before the large man eats it all. To the newcomers he offers a hand with a simple, "I'm Brock" and a nod to the wolf, his everpresent shadow, "he's Buck".
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It takes about an hour's trek to get out to the castle you've been sent to investigate.
The ruined siege castle now being called the Fallen Fortress 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 quartrefoil 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.
From what you can see, the tower stands at approximately 80 feet tall and its exterior walls are amazingly smooth. It would likely be very difficult to scale. Comparatively, the ragged remains of the east wing’s walls look significantly easier to climb, though it damage doesn’t seem to extend up to the fifth floor.
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Brock approaches the eastern hole with caution, peering into the darkened interior as best he can as he approaches. Spear in hand and Buck at his side.
"Well, that looks ominous."
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Reaching the edge of the rubble and seeing his compatriots advance, Corbett shrugs the straps of his backpack off and lets it down half-gently with a sound somewhere between a clang and a thud.
He undoes a buckle, grabs a short sword in its scabbard from the pack, unwind a the strap, and belts it to his waist. He takes the battered buckler, and puts the backpack back on. He grabs the longspear from the ground, then kicks the sole of his one boot with his other foot.
He gives a low, deep snort, hawks up a wad of the day's breakfast, curls his tongue, and lets it fly with a wet *PHTHOO.* "Right behind you."
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Seeing his companions spread out, Brock leans to the big warrior next to him. " Looks like its you and me up the middle the eh, big man?"
Hearing a soft growl next to him.
"Yes, you too buck"
Hefting his spear he moves into the rubble.
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Before you can get too close, you’re beset by a pack of starving, wild beasts! They come from the tower, behind the small piles of rubble, to investigate. Each of the animals looks dangerous – their fur is matted with grime and dirt; Their ribs are visible through their thin flesh. Now that they’ve realized you’re aware of them, they growl and snap their jaws, hackles raised.
For every 5 that you beat the DC, you may ask for one piece of information from this list.
Combat Round 1
Effects
Terrain
Those bolded below may act.
Myth
Dog (blue)
Buck
Jack of Shadows
Abolt
Dog (green)
Brock
Dog (red)
Combat Round 1
Effects
Terrain
Those bolded below may act.
Myth
Dog (blue)
Buck
Jack of Shadows
Yagojima
Corbett
Abolt
Dog (green)
Brock
Dog (red)
The dog goes down without so much as a sound, the arrow piercing its skull an obvious story as to its end and a warning for future enemies.
Combat Round 1
Effects
Terrain
Those bolded below may act.
Myth
Buck
Jack of Shadows
Yagojima
Corbett
Abolt
Dog (green)
Brock
Dog (red)
The poor dog's skin sizzles as the acid burns into it, causing a high pitched yelping to come from the creature as visibly falters, staggered by the attack
Combat Round 1
Effects
Terrain
Those bolded below may act.
Myth
Jack of Shadows
Yagojima
Corbett
Abolt
Dog (green)
Brock & Buck
Dog (red) - staggered
Jack and Yagojimoro land simultaneous attacks, not only dropping their quarry, but effectively finishing it as well.
Combat Round 1
Effects
Terrain
Those bolded below may act.
Myth
Jack of Shadows
Yagojima
Corbett
Abolt
Dog (green)
Brock & Buck
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Corbett trails down the line and shores up the right flank, only to see the nagaji strike the wounded wolf down. He spots the one wolf that still poses a threat, and levels his spear at the beast.
"G'YAH!"
He lets out an unintelligible noise, like something a farmer would utter to scare off a rabbit from eating his cabbage.
The dog goes now, a whine in its throat. With no further distractions, you can safely approach the tower.
When you enter the tower, what you see is decidedly less than optimal. It’s apparent that the collapse of the eastern wing has caved in much of the first level as well. The southern wing is entirely filled with rubble, leaving only the northern wing (and part of the western wing) accessible. The northern wing of the tower seems to have escaped the worst effects of the collapse, but rubble still litters the floor and everything is covered in a thick layer of stone dust. Thick cobwebs cloak the ceiling and hang down the walls like gossamer tapestries. A single archway stands open in the southwest wall.
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Brock and Buck pick their way across the rubble next to Crab, warily looking at the two openings, seeing nothing of note.
"Well, right or left..." turning to his companions, "preferences?"
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Brock steps next to the big human.
"Buck and I will be at your shoulder, worry not, your flank is covered." peering into the darkness, he continues, "we may need some lights, however".
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