GM Aeon's The Wounded Wisp (Table 2)

Game Master d'Eon

Dot in here. We'll start once everyone has checked in.

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This undine rests her boots on a chair and slams her empty mug against a table. "Who do I have to kill to get some good ale around here? Hmpf."

A hideous looking half-orc in Katapeshi garments sits across from the undine. The voice he speaks with, while deep and resonant, carries quite a refined manner of speech.

"Milady, I quite doubt you'll have to do any killing to get some ale... but to get good ale, well that may take quite a bit of traveling indeed. I don't fancy the weather in the mountains this time of year though, dreadfully cold."

A rather tall and fit human steps in to the room his scale mail and tower shield give away to his fighting style and while he looks young age wise his eyes give clear signs of having fought and killed both in training and in war.

As he sits down near the others the chair groans under the weight of the mans equipment. "I take it the two of you must be my team mates for the next mission. Either of you have any idea on what it might be? Getting rather tired of doing but training all day every day".

A small frog-like humanoid hops over to the others at the intersection, standing ALMOST two feet tall... maybe an inch or two shy of that height. He has very little adventuring type equipment - a small pack, his clothes, a water skin and a belt pouch. His only visible weapons are a tiny dagger and a small net tucked into his belt.

His skin bears what looks like ritual tattoos of some kind. They cover most of his exposed flesh. He looks at each of you, his head tilting from one side to the other as he does so.

Finally he speaks, letting out a small croak before beginning.. "Ruurbt... I'm Gribbl. Nice to meet you all." He climbs, with great difficulty, onto a large crate so he stands closer to the heights of the others, though still very much shorter than they. "I'm a sorcerer, though I'm still new to my powers... and to this Pathfinder stuff... just joined ribb-up!" He puts a hand over his mouth and blushes as he belches the last word...

Don't get too comfy inside, Drandle Dreng is rather eccentric ;)

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

Coming to the meeting place — an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge — a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency. “Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?” The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage. “Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?” Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour. “Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.”

As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venture-captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar. “The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from — oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”

The Wounded Wisp is a well-known tavern to Pathfinders, and is almost the unofficial lounge for the Society. The following Knowledge check can be attempted untrained, feel free to read whichever DC you meet.

Just about everyone in the Society has seen or been to the Wisp at some point, it will be quite easy to get there. Once you're done talking to Dreng, a DC 10 Knowledge (geography or local) check will get you there, or you can just follow the map Dreng provides.

know local: 1d20 ⇒ 18

"Ah, I've heard of this Wounded Wisp.. meeting place of the original founders of the Society before there WAS a Society, and a common place for Pathfinders to gather even today. And there are discounts for members too!"

know local for location: 1d20 ⇒ 12

"I know the way! Follow me!" He gives Dreng a little salute and heads off in the direction of the Wounded Wisp, without looking back to see who's following him. For a little fellow he moves very quickly.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

"Yes, and there is a lot more to the story than that..."

Feel free to read all the spoilers as Abdul tells what he knows.

Abdul moves along towards the Wisp.

Crixus listens to the full story and then has to begin jogging to keep up with the others as he heads towards the wisp.

Knowledge(Local): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

Aquavius is about to flip a copper piece when Dreng reveals himself. She laughs instead, clearly entertained. "Yeah, yeah, we'll get your stuff. I can't drink this town's mud they call ale for much longer, anyway."

"Huh, I've heard a thing or two the Wounded Wisp. Clearly affiliated with Pathfinders. Gribbl, wait up. Some of us like to bury ourselves in steel." She looks back at Crixus and chuckles as she heads toward the bar.

Gribbl slows down for the armored folks and continues toward the Wounded Wisp at a slightly slower pace. "Sure thing," he calls back to Aquavius...

As Crixus closes the gap and rejoins the others his breathing is slow and steady but he does give a nod of respect before "Thanks, I am still too young and inexperienced to fight with minimal armor the way the elite of our legion do, but I see now the ways of the adventurer demand much more in the ways of speed then I was aware of.

Crixus then looks at Gribbl opens his mouth to speak before pausing and then speaking "I uh don't want to offend you, but if you'd like you uh could hitch a ride on top of me. Since you seem to know where we are going i figure being able to see where your going from higher up means you can see better right.....or is that wrong?"

"That'd be fun.. I mean fine. thanks!" He holds his arms and webbed hands up to be picked up much like a small child might do. When he's up on Crixus' shoulder he settles in between sharp bits of the armor and directs Crixus with an occasional "That way" or "this way" while pointing.

A young man, perhaps not having reached his twentieth summer, sits astride a magnificent steed. The horse is a perfect combination of legs, feet, quarters and muscle. Its head is as small as would be in keeping with the rest of its body. Its muzzle is fine, of moderate length. Its nostrils are large, so as to be capable, when open, of allowing the air free access to the lungs. Its ears are thin, and not overly-lengthy. Its coat is a deep gray in color. In short, it appears to be the perfect mare, full of spirit and intelligence.

Despite the drizzle, it maintains its footing on the cobblestone. Its rider, somewhat average-looking though perhaps handsome in a square-jawed brutish way, sits astride with considerable skill and pats the horse's flank.

"Easy, Banshee. We'll be done with this task in no time, and there will be no putting you away wet...I promise you that!"

During your walk to the Wounded Wisp, you pass a number of other residents on foot, camelback, axebeak, and giant centipede. No other horses are visible, and Banshee seems to draw quite a few stares, almost as many as the image of a grippli riding on an armored man's shoulders.

Gribbl's directions easily lead you to the Wounded Wisp. From the exterior, the Wisp is the quintessential dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure the view into the interior, and the only distinguishing feature is the heavy wooden sign over the door with a single lantern hanging from it.

Entering the bar, the smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.

A handful of groups are already scattered around the bar enjoying the food and drink provided by the staff. One pathfinder is regaling a group of initiates with tales of Durvin Gest. "Now, Gest traveled to Ninshabur after his many adventures aboard The Silken Purse, and eventually he found the fabled Chamber of Heaven…" she continues with a bard's flourishes. Another man is advising a pair of pathfinders in the importance of cooperation and being humble enough to seek help. "A Pathfinder should stand on their own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed," he says with a practiced air. A pair of half-orc twins are boisterously bragging and sharing their exploits in combat, and loudly greet you as you enter. "Welcome, I'm Garl, and she's Shrade. Come drink with us!" A couple recruits can be overhead arguing about the origins of the society, "But I thought the Society was founded at the Pig's Paunch?" one asks, only to be shot down by a few regulars and staff. Finally, an old man is sitting at a table with an oversized flagon of ale while reading a massive tome.

A woman, presumably Heryn Gale, is working behind the bar and smiles as you enter. "New Pathfinders, eh? Well as those two said, come on in. Drinks are on the house for new agents, you know."

"Really? Oooh, how nice. I want something to drink... What's good?"

Aquavius smiles when she sees the stained windows, and inhales deeply when she's inside the bar. "Ahhh, that's the smell."

A pair of half-orc twins are boisterously bragging and sharing their exploits in combat, and loudly greet you as you enter. "Welcome, I'm Garl, and she's Shrade. Come drink with us!"

"Sure thing! The package can wait a bit, can't it?" She turns to Heryn Gale. "Hey! Get me what these two are drinkin'!"

Preemptive Fort Save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Crixus will put Gribbl down if asked and marching over to nearby seat" I'd be glad to have some ale is there something local you'd recommend? "

Banshee's rider dismounts outside the tavern and looks the horse in the face.

"I may need to go inside for a minute. I will watch over you from the entry until I no longer can."

He carefully ties the reigns to a hitch post outside, then walks through the doorway, but looks back over his shoulder frequently.

The half-orc twins cheer loudly as Crixus joins them, then wave at Heyrn. She sets two more flagons of very frothy, pale beer in front of you. "Here you go, Luglurch Ale, why go cheap with free drinks?" The ale is incredibly salty, but good.
Aquavius, Garl and Shrade cheer when they hear your order, and Heryn shakes her head slightly. She fetches a squat bottle from the cabinet, and fills a small tumblr with the clear liquid. The taste is extremely corrosive and very potent, and your head swims almost immediately. You notice the half-orcs have almost a dozen empty tumblrs in front of them already. "Hey Janira, this blue lady knows how to drink!" they shout at the Pathfinder telling stories across the bar.

One more thing that sticks out is the large chalkboard set up behind the bar. Written in large letters across the top is the name "Sir Reinhart of Kenabres", and below that are two columns labeled "Yes" and "No" with smaller names in them. You notice Shrade and Garl each have their names written in different columns.

Once Heryn gets you all a drink, she looks at Aquavius. "Package? Oh, are you here for Dreng's wine? He's been going through every vintage we have, recent to oldest."

No Fortitude saves needed, you can drink 1 drink plus twice your Con modifier before any ill effects.

Despite being a half-orc, Abdul has no patience for loud boasting and ignores them. He decides that the man with the tome is most interesting. He takes a seat at a nearby table with his own drink.

Good day sir! Awfully sorry to interrupt, but I do enjoy a good book myself and was curious as to what you've considered to be worth reading.

"Now THIS is the good stuff! Haha! You two know how to drink."

Perform(Storytelling): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

"You know what this reminds me of? The Twin Blazes. One brother, one sister, both obsessed with fire. Terrible about subtlety, but you wanna burn something, they're the best at it! Haha!"

Aquavius spends her time talking about adventures of brave fighters, ambitious warriors, and charismatic rogues to anyone willing to hear it. Although maybe this ale was getting to her head and slurring her stories.

Gribbl joins Abdul if he doesn't object and sits and listens to the question and waits for the scholarly fellow to answer... when it's his turn to order, he sort of hems and haws and eventually orders a glass of water.

Steward reluctantly leaves his steed outside and walks to the tavern's proprietor, ignoring the various patrons inside.

"Might this place have an attached stable? Where can I find oats or hay around here, of the finest quality?"

A few good stories later, Aquavius burps and wipes the ale away. "Alright, time for work, I guess."

"Hey Heryn, Venture-Captain Dreng wanted us to pick up a parcel of some kind...you know where it is?"

Heryn grins a bit, "Oh, it's in the wine cellar with the others." She waves at the bar patrons. "I can't leave this lot unattended, they get enough free drinks already. Once my assistant arrives I'll be free to take you down to get it. Drandle sure does love his wine, sending six of you to make sure it's safe."

"There's a stall just around the alley, dear. Should be some feed as well, though you might want to check it just to be sure. We don't get many horses coming through." Heryn heads off to take a patron's order.

Shrade and Garl receive your story well, Aquavius. "Good tale, friend! Keep those skills up and you'll do better than us. We just get called up when skulls need cracked, not much is expected of us otherwise."

The scholarly man looks up from his book at Gribbl and Abdul. "Ah, well it's a history of the dwarven Quest for Sky, mostly the battles with the orcs. Yargos Gill, historian," he intoduces himself. "Quite a few interesting tactics employed by both sides, you know. What errand has the Society sent you two on? Quite an odd pair."

"I'm Gribbl, and that sounds like a fascinating story, and the book is lovely, too... so excellently bound! They.. well 'he' actually, sent us to collect a package and deliver it back to him. Dreng, that is." He tilts his head to one side... "This is my first mission for the Society, so I don't know if this is typical or not, but I've heard talking to other Pathfinders, that such tasks are never ask simple and straightforward as they seem. We shall see."

Steward shoulders his lance and opens the door to call to his horse.

"Banshee, do not be alarmed. I shall see to this package and be right back. I have already found a place we might obtain some high-quality oats when we are finished."

Shouldering his lance, he prepares to enter the cellar once Heryn finishes up.

"I already know you can take care of yourself...I just don't like to let you out of my sight!"

Heryn's assistant finally arrives and gets set up behind the bar. "Alright dearies, once you're finished up we can fetch Drandle's bottle."

Let me know if there's anyone else you want to chat with, then we can move on.

Crixus is good to go whenever, but he will wait till the rest of the group is good to continue.

Crixus will finish his current drink and then stand up saying "While I am loathe to leave such entertaining company, we were sent here on a mission however mundane it is and I'd rather Drandle not find us here several hours later drinking away, having not returned with his bottle. I'm sure their will be plenty of downtime after we drop off our package to come back and exchange more stories over a fine ale."

Having said his piece Crixus will begin slowly heading toward the assistant behind the bar as while he is eager to complete his mission he has no desire to rush anyone, doubly so as the matter is not life or death and their mission isn't razor sharp on the time requirements for returning.

Gribbl downs his water quickly, bids the scholar "Bye... talk to you again later, I hope." and skedaddles with the rest of the pathfinders.

It appears we do have to attend to our business now. Maybe later we will have time to talk more.

Abdul then follows Gribbl.

Aquavius yawns and leaves a few copper coins on the counter. She follows her fellow Pathfinders downstairs.

A striking woman with oddly colored eyes rises from a corner to follow the others.

Steward leaves his steed at the entry to the tavern and follows the others.

He seems to very consciously avoid looking at the newcomer, the striking woman with oddly-colored eyes.

The woman speaks up as the group descends into the cellar. She moves with the refined grace of a dancer, but her voice seems too loud in the enclosed space.

"I must apologize for my tardiness. I was enjoying a glass of my family's Chelish red, and did not hear the runner's summons." After a moment, she continues," I don't hear anything, in fact. Other than the constant roar of a raging flame.

Ignia shakes off her head,"But, that is little excuse. I can read lips after all. Once I understood where to meet Drang, I hurried off, but you all had already gone ahead. I'm glad to have found you."

"Huh? Who're you- oh, a Pathfinder, right?" Aquavius's arches one of her eyebrows. "Hey, I'm talkin' here! Oh, I see. I'll make sure you can see me. The name is Aquavius. Welcome to the party." She waves the changeling in.

Crixus pauses his descent down the cellar and pivots in place to properly face the newcomer, once again tightly controlling his tower shield so to not slam into anyone.

Crixus then lifts his face visor so as to allow his lips to be seen and thus read when he speaks.

"Greetings friend, I'm glad that you could make it. Hopefully the presence of so many pathfinder bodes well for this retrieval mission.

Crixus looks Ignia over looking for any arms or armor that may be visible.

"How rude of me to forget basic manners. My name is Crixus, what might yours be."

"Ignia. Ignia Leroung. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." Ignia curtsies in the Chelish style as she speaks, flaring her skirt behind her, but keeps her one brown and one grey eye on the speakers.

"Thank you for your consideration. Are you familiar with Pathfinder Hand sign? It is not truly a language, but is quite useful for simple communication when your face is covered." She demonstrates a simple sign as she speaks.

<Question>

"I don't. Bet I could learn a thing or two. It might have saved me a few times to communicate without noise."

"I have a message spell, that lets me communicate at a distance with but a whisper, but um... yeah, won't help if someone can't hear at all.. " He moves to stand in front of Ignia and asks her, working hard to move his mouth in a human fashion as he speaks. "Hi! I'm Gribble. Will you teach me this hand language? I would love to learn it!"

Heryn leads you downstairs into the Wisp's storeroom. "Mind the gap", she says pointing to a large crack that stretches across the floor. A single flimsy-looking plank crosses it. "Happened back during the earthquake, and no one comes down here often enough to really fix it." She slowly crosses the plank, and waits by the entrance to the cellar. "Drandle is drinking his wine by vintage lately, newest to oldest for whatever reason. He's looking for something from 4306 AR, not sure where it is down here. Not something that's commonly asked for, but Drandle is anything but common."

A human-sized person moving across the plank at normal speed may break it, as will overloading it. Smaller people shouldn't have any issues crossing. A Disable Device check could be tried to stabilise the board and keep it from breaking. The gap itself is a 10' deep pit, and is 10' across.

Gribbl slips across the plank before a big person breaks it, and waits patiently on the other side for the others.

"I think i remember one or two but its been a couple years since I last served as a scout for my legion so I am probably rusty even on the one or two I do remember."

Crixus pauses to make sure no one is missing before continuing.

"Now that I know your deaf I'll be sure to include the hand sign if i spot anything and hopefully you can teach me some new ones as we go along."

Crixus then see's the flimsy looking board across the pit and looks at himself before back at the board on the pit and sighs before signing "Danger" at the board and sits down his intent to go last very clear.

"Well knowing my luck this thing will break under my weight, atleast they will have to fix it then" Crixus chuckles out unhappy that his gear he has trusted his life to as a soldier is causing him this many problems.

Oh, it'll definitely break if you step on it, Crixus. Hmm, no one has Disable Device either. Guess you could jump it, it's just a DC 10 Acrobatics check.

"I'd rather not risk falling in." <Caution>

Ignia steps back, holds onto her skirt, and jumps the gap.

Acrobatics(speed, ACP): 1d20 + 6 + 4 - 1 ⇒ (10) + 6 + 4 - 1 = 19

how dark is the pit if i can see the bottom I will us my rope/ and grappling hook to climb down and then back up. I have a torch is more light is needed to see the bottom. Regardless ill wait to see how the others fare.

Crixus takes a second look and "Yep if i so much as step on this thing its breaking. Unless everyone wants to jump this I'm going last."

It's 10' deep, and has plenty of handholds to climb with, DC 10 Climb check to do it. Using a rope would make it DC 5.

I don't have a rope, but it doesn't look too difficult.

Abdul slowly climbs down into the crevasse and then up the other side. Thanks to his agile breastplate, the task is pretty much trivial.

Climb: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Climb: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Climb: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Climb: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14