@Marduk: It'd be a CMB roll to grab the thing, but of course Miss Chance.
Looks like you rolled the Acrobatics to get out the window fine and a miss chance, but I need the CMB roll. Let's see some magic!
With a flying leap, Marduk jumps out of the window... and feels a tiny form beneath him has he falls to the ground below!
One of Marduk's ribs is bruised, but he feels a pained squeak as his large half-orc mass has the creature stuck under him.
"Maybe dey are crazy!", someone from the crowd shouts as they see Marduk hit the ground. Ekira can only stand there, in a half-jaw dropped state,
Init Order (bold = up)
Marduk (14 damage, grappled, prone)
Ekira
Kintampo
Wyeth
Man (17 damage, 8 nonlethal damage, unconscious)
Demon? (7 damage?, grappled, prone)
Benson (10 damage)
Raevin
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Wyeth continues to stand calmly but threateningly over the man, in case he should stir.
"No, not crazy," he assures the townsperson. "Just concerned for you fine people, what with all these murders and now proof of invisible demons roaming about influencing people! I haven't known mister Gangtee long, but he seems an honorable, level-headed sort. Certainly far from insane. And Marduk," Wyeth laughs, "Marduk's... a bit 'unstoppable.' He's the one to go running into the burning barn to rescue the horses. That half-orc's more human than most men I know!"
He frowns. "Though I admit chasing after and fighting something invisible certainly looks like insanity. Miss Erika, can you see the thing, or its aura, at all?
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Since Benson is not in a position to see or hear what's going on in the house, I may as well announce what Benson will be doing this round. His plan was to move around the house to try to get a bow shot at the demon. By the time he gets there, he'll presumably see Marduk grappling something invisible.
I'll wait to commit to an action until I see the status of Markduk and the demon. But if Marduk still has the thing grappled, Benson will likely rummage in his pack for his bottle of ink or attempt to aid Marduk in keeping the thing in check.
Wyeth tries to push the crowd to their favor; some listen to his words, but are simply too preoccupied from the daring men who leapt from the windows.
Ekira goes to the bedroom and undoes her crimson cape and drops it to Marduk below.
"Hold it in this, half-orc!"
The small, squeaky thing Marduk is sitting on starts cursing at him in Abyssal.
"Get off me you foul, hunk of wasted soul space! I curse you! May you remain bald from the waist below! May your next meal taste like the excrement of a goblin with indigestion! May your soul burn up like flammable twig!"
Marduk then turns, putting his weight on the thing's winged back and his hand where he believes to be the back of its head while Benson comes up, bow drawn and waiting.
The party and Ekira join the acrobatic men outside. After another few seconds, a tiny red, winged demon now appears under Marduk.
It's a quasit, a tiny demon often used as a messenger. They typically try to sow chaos for higher demons or demon lords to gain power and ascend from their current form. Besides the typical demonic resistances, it also has fast healing and the ability to turn into an animal shape of some sort and turn invisible at will (when it's not in a choke-hold by a half-orc 8 times your size).
"What... why... ", the headstrong woman almost choking up, tears of rage slowly dripping down her face.
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Benson's grim face cracks a slight smile as he approaches the strange sight of Marduk wrestling the demon(?).
"I've spent enough time on ships to have picked up a fairly colorful collection of insults in many languages. That sounds like abyssal. I think the beastie is trying to curse you; either that or he's making menu suggestions."
Benson notices a teenage boy (about 13) watching and says to him, "Son, would you fetch my sword? Should be around near where the rope is hanging down." He tilts his head back toward the north side of the house.
Once he gets his sword back, he'll switch to covering the thing with his dueling sword.
The boy, still in a state of shock with everyone else at seeing a demon within their town, obediently listens to the sailor's request.
@Raevin: Give me a Diplomacy check, please :)
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"I think what Raevin is trying to say is that we now see what has been hidden from us. This ... thing has been pretending to be the voice of the divine. It convinced Ekira and that joker up there," Benson points toward the second floor of the house, "that Pathfinders were responsible for the recent setbacks to the forces of good at the Worldwound. It played one off the other, manipulating him to commit murder and plant evidence to make it look like the Pathfinders or one of us had done the deed, then convincing Ekira She must promote the will of Iomedae herself by convincing you to put them to death. But now our eyes have been opened. We see this evil for what it is. Let us put an end to this abomination so that the healing may begin."
Benson looks to the others in the group to ready weapons to attack the demon. Then he looks at Ekira. "Ma'am, would you care to strike the first blow?"
For the second time since you have seen her, Ekira smiles. "Gladly, but there will only be one blow.". With her cold iron longsword in hand, she drives the blade through the demon's neck.
Marduk feels the demon go limp under its arm.
She then turns to the crowd, but speaks to the party. "I am truly sorry. I let a prejudiced hate consume me... and I was nearly corrupted in the process. Thank you for convincing me of my fault before more innocent lives were lost." She then falls prostrate in front of you all.
Ekira warmly heals your wounds.
She then offers to pay for further healing at the temple.
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Benson reminds the sheriff of the miscreant upstairs, who is probably the actual murderer. Then he drifts over to the beer garden and looks for some attractive young ladies who are interested in hearing stories of fighting pirates on the high seas.
While passing a mirror, he thinks, I really am ruggedly handsome, aren't I?
The Sheriff, also in amazement at the actual turn of events, hastily takes the unconscious man into custody. Likewise, he sincerely apologizes to Dakota, Corwin, and Torum, the three immediately showing genuine signs of gladness at their turned fortunes. After hearing the story and seeing the man there, the three Pathfinders nod solemnly. "Tis a terrible thing this man did... and to pervert justice for the sake of corruption...", the halfling ranger chimes in. "Well, thank you lot for our freedom."
Indeed, everyone in town heads to the beer gardens. Some in remembrance for the deceased, others trying to drink away their anger and rage that has been pent up for so long, but it is indeed obvious that many are pleased that something that looks like peace will return to their sleepy little town.
Sheriff Tobias and Ekira both join you and offer a full round, the former for properly solving the crime and the latter still embarrassed at her misplaced anger towards the Pathfinders that nearly drove her to demonic influence.
"I don't know what to think, to be honest...". the raven-haired woman proclaims. The rosy cheeks are evidence that the four glasses of wine she has drunk this evening are taking its toll on her. "The fall of Kenabres, the Pathfinders at Nerosyan when it was besieged... I think they were allied with the demons, but I was under their influence, too... Iomedae must think me a fool! By her heaving bosom, how can I call to her for justice when I perverted it so..."
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Benson will delay the healing (I think he ended up with 5 points of wounds) until after he's milked some sympathetic attention from the women of the town.
At some point, he will share some of the fine liquor he won with Ekira and apologize for some of the lies he told. He'll come clean to the whole town that we are Pathfinders sent to investigate the fate of the other Pathfinders and that there is no trading consortium, although he will offer to pass on information to any merchants he sees who trade with Mendev to consider some of the town's fine beverages and other crafted items.
To Ekira, he'll say, "My mother liked to quote a Tien proverb that says, 'The true sign of wisdom is to know what to remember and what to forget.' If Iomedae is as wise as people claim, I'm sure she will know what to remember about you and what to forget. If you want folks 'round here to remember the right things about you, I'd suggest you find some orphans who need a good home and bring them to this place and find them a good family to be foster parents; let them grow up in this wholesome environment. Good luck to you, if you believe in luck."
To the mayor, he'll say, "You're a good mayor and sheriff. I might encourage you to adopt the legal principle common in Andoran, to presume a suspect of a crime is innocent until proven guilty. Lets a few guilty go free, but prevents of a lot of innocents from being put to death."
@Benson: What single women there are in town are definitely more than pleased with the party for saving the town. Of course, playing the wounded hero card does have its perks and you have more than your fair share offering a warm meal and bed for the night if you wish to accept.
Ekira, even in her drunken shame spiral, nods at that. "That's some good words there, Bensn...", she now resting her head on the bar. But a relaxed smiles appears on her face, perhaps a sign that a better tomorrow may come to the troubled inquisitor.
"I can drink to that!", smiles Tobias. "Course, right now, I could drink to anything... this has been a long week. I'm lookin' forward to some actual celebration an' normalcy."
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Wyeth remained in quiet contemplation when the Sheriff collected the unconscious man he was guarding, and on the walk to the beer garden as well. Now well into his third ale and having listened to Erika's conversations, he clumps over to her.
"Miss Erika, I am from the Kingdom of Man. We abhor getting mixed up with gods for just this sort of reason. It's too easy to be drawn into their games or, as in this case, misled. But your choice to worship is just that -- your choice -- and by what I know of Iomedae... well, if I were to worship a god it would not be her, but methinks she isn't a bad choice."
"Justice and honor; those are two of her domains, yes? While you might have been misled, your actions were taken in her name and for principles she holds dear; honor has been fulfilled. And there would be no justice in her condemning you for doing what you thought was right. You're a fallible mortal after all; if she wants perfection she should send gods."
He manages not to offer his opinion on the fallibility of gods.
"I too am fallible. I lashed out at you -- justified though that was at the time -- and I thought ill of you without even considering you might be under some wicked influence."
He pauses for a long draw of ale, then shakes his head thoughtfully. "Judging by appearances and hearsay... that's a mistake I've made before, with goblins. But then being forced to interact with them for a good while, I learned they're not all terrors. Some of them are even almost likable. Almost."
He looks at Erika. "You, miss Erika, are like a goblin. You've shown me I'm still learning that lesson. So I will thank you for that, and also apologize for thinking so ill of you."
"On the assumption it truly was unjustified," he adds as he takes another sip from his flagon.
Then he raises his voice. "Normalcy?" he laughs. "You'll not likely get any of that, Tobias, until after we leave! Strangeness seems to follow us about, for some reason."
He raises his vessel and clanks it against the Sheriff's, then Benson's. "Thank Cayden for adult beverages!" he declares, as if they might be the solution to everything.
After you escort the beleaguered Pathfinders to Nerosyan, a familiar, yet disgruntled face greets you: Master of Scrolls, Aram Zey. "Took you long enough. Come here, we don't have much time to waste." With a quick snap of his fingers, he calls you to enter a meeting room. A large map of the Inner Sea is visible on the opposite wall and a red chalk circle outlines a portion of the jungles of the Mwangi Expanse.
Once in the room, the wizard has everyone stand in a large, runed circle. With a flash of light, the moderate, bustling air of Mendev collapses into the stifling, wet heat of the Garundi coast. Within moments, sweat begins to ooze from everyone's pores as the fetid stink of the local jungle envelopes you like a damp blanket.
"All right Pathfinders, welcome to the blistering hellhole that is the Mwangi Expanse. Any of you who bother to keep up with your Chronicles know that the Society has an archaeological expedition working in the Terwa Uplands, about 80 miles northwest of our current position. Of course, I doubt if more than half of you read anything but dirty poetry,", eyeing Benson and Wyeth suspiciously. ", so allow me to sum up: the Azlant Ridge site shouldn't be there. There are no known Azlanti sights in the Mwangi Expanse, but here we are. It may be the best preserved evidence that the Azlanti at least visited the Mwangi Expanse. However, a servant of Angazhan called Ruthazek the Silverback King claims the site, too. His troops have laid siege to the dig site and our people are starving, dying from disease, and running low on ammunition and personnel, which is where you come in.
Zey quickly points north through the treeline, to where a ragtag city of boardwalks and wooden buildings straddles a swampy, red, river delta. [b]"Your first stop is the wonderful town of Bloodcove. It is the most wretched hive of scum and villainy this side of Riddleport.", accenting wonderful with a bit of glee. "The Azlant Ridge site needs supplies and this is the closest trade port. They need two tons of food and clean water, five crates of arrows and crossbow bolts, and clean dressings for wounds. House Cartahegn is your best choice as the Society has worked with them occasionally. We already arranged payment to a caravan leader named Raimondo Scevola several weeks ago to drive the goods. Make contact with him to carry everything north. Also, look for a man named Senzer in town. He was an alchemist funneling potions and information to our team in the Uplands, but he has fallen silent a month ago. Find out why and get that stream of potions flowing again."
Zey sighs, placing his fingers just above the bridge of his nose as if he's regretting continuing the outline. "And don't get cocky in town; this won't be a simple trip. Bloodcove is a cesspool founded by pirates and run by criminals. Of course you two will fit in,", the Master of Scrolls not bothering to glance up at Benson and Wyeth. "But just because they're scum with no sense of achievement or appreciation for arcane advancement mean you can just waltz in and move through the place safely. It's a stronghold for the Aspis Consortium, which would love nothing more than perverting and profiting from our discoveries: like Azlant Ridge. Keep your heads down and do lnothing to attract suspicion. Perhaps a disguise will be a good idea...", looking directly at the stony outsider, Kerastes. "Personally, I don't give a damn if you blokes just kick in the doors, make asses of yourselves, and die, but more than YOUR lives rest on your shoulders now. Fail, and Azlant Ridge and all of the Pathfinders there go with it."
Zey hands Marduk a large coin pouch before he begins fanning himself with his hat. "As I said, we arranged payment for your caravan some time ago. This should cover the cost of supplies. If you dip into your own resources and manage to survive, the Society will attempt to reimburse you."
"Once you deal with that business, head northwest." He then presents a sealed scrollcase and an ornate, golden key on a leather thong to Kerastes. "Guard these with your lives. The key's exact prupose eludes me, but the symbol it bears is repeated on a doorway at Azlant Ridge. The scrollcase contains a map to the dig site. My magics though,", Aram chuckling to himself, "secure the case, and it will explode violently if opened within five miles of Bloodcove."
"Ask your questions now. I will return to Absalom the moment I believe you capable of getting to Bloodcove... or five minutes, whichever happens first."
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"You know," Wyeth says to Marduk quietly behind the back of his hand, "I got enough of Mwangi at the museum, without ever needing to be in Mwangi. We can only hope to avoid more 'fecal fisticuffs'."
As sarcasm and thinly-veiled insults continue to roll off Zey's tongue, Wyeth leans to the other side and speaks similarly behind his hand to Benson. "I say we fix Aram here up with Erika. Perfect for each other, don't you think?"
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Benson whispers back to Wyeth. "Perhaps if they'd spice the Chronicles up with some dirty poetry, more people would read it."
Benson has no questions, so rather than give Aram another opening through which to wedge insults, he stands silently, glancing at the others to gauge their attitude. To himself he thinks, Sounds straightforward enough. Discretely gather the supplies, get them on the caravan, locate a potion maker and slip out of town, all while avoiding any piratical entanglements. Looks like we'll be keeping our Wayfinders hidden again and making up another cover story.
"Nothing else? Just remember, you're their last hope. Bluffing your way through a backwater town won't be anything like this, so don't get cocky."
With that, Zey snaps his fingers, disappearing from the jungle. Bloodcove awaits you.
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The blueskinned Oread is still looking at the scroll when Aram Zey disappears. He straightens and puts the scroll in a bandolier and secures the key on a lace that he has around his neck. That lace already had an golden key hanging from it.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kerastes, Chosen of Abadar. I am not that comfortable with telling lies to get our way. I prefer to be genuine and make true allies rather then deceive people. I have quite good understanding what intentions others have."
Kerastes stays silent for a while and then continues
"Perhaps it is a good idea to share what we know of this town before we go in"
Kerastes lightly touches his golden key
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Nice to meet you Kerastes," says the androgynous young... man? "I have no compunction regarding the telling of some little white lies to reach a goal... even a whopper from time to time might be called for. We shall see... Anyway, I am Raevin... chosen of ... no one." He chuckles and winks.
"Unfortunately, I know little of Bloodcove itself other than what we've all been told. As I said, I had a friend who was here, but he only told me about the archaeological site and his travels to it, not about Bloodcove though. And of his travels, he only told me about the insects and the humidity."
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Now introducing himself to the likewise tall new figure, Marduk puts out his hand for a shake.
"I am Marduk, follower of the teachings of Irori.
If you are uncomfortable telling lies, you could tell truths vaguely, with luck no deeper explanation is asked.
Me and my friend Wyeth here have seen the effects of Mwangi ape-idols in a museum, may we not encounter those things again."
You know that the government of Bloodcove is a bit strange; the elite of the city elect a Grand Admiral who rules for life. In exchange, he or she enforces few rules and laws, especially towards economic policies.
Currently, the Aspis Consortium is dominating the political and trade scene. House Cartahegn opposes them, though, and thus are the best ones to work with. Enemy of my enemy after all...
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Benson shakes Kerastes hand and says, "Benson Steele, at your service.... Or Benson Gangtee, if you want to go with the Tien version of my mother's surname. I've had some dealings with pirates, mostly trying to defeat them when they are involved with the slave trade. I've heard stories about Bloodcove. Of course, sailors tell stories a-plenty, so these stories have to be taken with a fair deal of saltwater."
"As for fibs, I've told my fair share just getting through the last mission for the Pathfinders, so Wyeth, Raevin, and Marduk know what I'm capable of in that department. I suggest we work up a plaussible enough cover story that has an element of truth. We could be buyers for some unnamed customer, keeping it secret as a standard protocol of a cautious merchant. In our case, our customer will be the Pathfinders, but we can avoid telling anyone that without any or many outright lies. We'll need to look the part of merchants, of course. It would have been nice of Aram to have given us the briefing while still in Nerosyan, so we could have gone shopping before arriving here. But, ...." He ends his sentence with a shrug.
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Willing pawn of a rule-pusher god. Lovely, thought Wyeth... though he kept his expression neutral. "Wyeth," he states flatly, with a nod towards Kerastes as he studies the man, "and sometimes the end justifies the means."
Looking around, he adds, "Yes, Marduk and I have had some... 'indirect exposure' to Mwangi, but I know nothing of Bloodcove."
@Benson: You can look under Kerastes Kn: tab.
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"As for Bloodcove, eliminating the more obvious tall tales--I doubt the cove is really filled with blood--Bloodcove is a tricky place to negotiate, if tales are true. The leader of the town has the title of Admiral, who rules for life--although life can be cheap and brutally short in such places. He ... or she--I'm not sure if there have been any women appointed, but anyway--the Admiral is appointed by the movers and shakers in the community, so I would be surprised if the Admiral is much more than a figurehead. The real rulers are the merchants with the money and muscle. Word is the Aspis Consrtium is the strongest of late, but there's another up-and-comer, House Cartahegn. So it might be good to scout out House Cartahegn and see if they can back us if we run afoul of the Aspics."
"Since we need to find this potion maker, we might start by looking for him and get the lay of the land. Not likely to ruffle many feathers just shopping for potions and asking after the guy with the reputation. While we're doing that, we can window-shop to identify the merchants with the wares we need and maybe find out which power block each is connected with."
@Benson: Aram Zey actually did mention House Cartahegn as the first place to work with for supplies as they'd be among the few who'd actually work for the Society and try to keep their mouths quiet about it not to mention sell at a fair price.