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"So, sir, is this information about the walking dead from first hand experience? Or recent intel, perhaps?" Lauranna wasn't sure if Madris was talking to hear himself sound important, or because he really had important information to relay. Still, it was no good offending a man like Major Madris without cause.

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Rutilus' eyes go wide. It had never occurred to me that the undead were unwilling slaves. He nods his head and swears an oath under his breath. Tension gathers in his shoulders as he sets his mind to this task.

Brayden Green |

There was a group that came back only a day ago and told us of the ruins. Not the entire party made it back, I'm afraid.
Seeing the look come upon your faces, he says I fear that there is someone over there that must hear what I have to say. Adieu, and may you ever walk in freedom's grace. And with that, he walks away.

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"What do you think he meant by 'not the entire party made it back'?
That they lost a few members? or that they didn't come back with all their faculties or parts intact, perhaps?
No matter, seems pretty open and shut."

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"You know what that means? It means that there is several adventurer's worth of gear in there in addition to whatever was there in the first place." Wibeke rubs her hands together in anticipation. "I hope it was a spellcaster, they always carry small, valuable loot."

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"Wibeke, your warmth touches us all," Morvyn says with a cheeky grin, "So what do we think of this little adventure, my little playthings?"

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"You're a cleric, right? Between your channeling and our blades, we should be fine. Unless someone has ready access to holy water, a few detect undead or disrupt undead spells should do the trick."

Brayden Green |

Ugh. Work has been ferocious and I have the in-laws in town, staying with us. Gonna be a little hit and miss this weekend, I'm afraid... Not completely silent, but more than I'd like.
You are there discussing tactics, and opportunities when you are approached by a mild mannered man that you recognize as the venture captain of the Qadira faction: a well-dressed Keleshite man named Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam. His mannerisms are softspoken and subtle, quite the contrast to Major Maldris’s ostentatious pomposity. He draws you to the side, away from any crowds or activity, and addresses you in a slow, level voice with a strong Kelish accent.
“Like a fast-spoken djinn, I’ll get to the quick. I know where
you are going. House Damaq of Qadira claim the ruin, but we
are willing to allow you access for the price of a small deed
easily accomplished during your adventure. You will be well compensated,
I assure you, for profits are most rewarding
when shared. I assume treasure-seekers like yourselves are
interested in such a proposition?”
Without waiting for an answer, he continues, his eyes intent
and his posture rigid.
“The ruin is Qadiran, which is why we claim it, and we are
willing to defend it, but there are really only certain things left
in Asad’s Keep we are interested in: trade agreements, of which
we believe there to be many within the ruins. All we ask that
you do is to turn over all trade agreements you find to us
as soon as you return to Absalom, as we will be able
to hold the signers to them even centuries after
their signing.
“The satrap of Qadira—nay, the entire
Padishah Empire of Kelesh—has much to offer
the Pathfinder Society, and I personally have no
qualms about sharing those resources with you,
specifically. Shall we shake on this agreement?”

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Lauranna held her tongue, though not outwardly contesting the man's words. eh thought of "holding to missing trade agreements" seemd sour to her, though she wasn't sure why.
Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
"I am certain we will all do our part." she finally says.

Brayden Green |

I'm close enough to being ready for the child, let's do this... Baby room / ex-office is all vacuumed our, and I cleaned the carpet today. Now we just got to do a quick painting and it is good to go.
He has no idea where the documents are in the ruins.
you recognize that Aaqir al’Hakam is a deliberate man
whose attitude, while brusque, is not directly hostile
toward the PCs or the Pathfinder Society. Nevertheless,
it’s clear that he is unaccustomed to hearing the word
“no.”
To verify his statement about the trade agreements I would actually want you to make a knowledge local.

Brayden Green |

He shakes your hands, and bids his leave. The party is starting to wind down, and it wouldn't be considered rude to leave at any point from here on out.

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Wibeke snags several spring rolls from a porter's tray. "So we need to find a sword, kill every undead we find, and look for some trade agreements." She pops two into her mouth, shifting them to one cheek as she talks. "I think we should mosey, in case someone gives us another honey-do before we leave."

Brayden Green |

It's night time, and I'm sure that you would arrange a time to leave in the morning, and each person can post in the discussion thread what they want to buy before setting off. Standard prices from the CRB.

Brayden Green |

So let's move this thing along, If you want to shop just make sure you do it before we get into the cairnlands.
Is everyone ready?

Brayden Green |

So you make it down to the Cairnlands, leaving right after breakfast and arriving somewhere after noon. You find travel to the site to be arduous; the terrain is rocky and marred with the scars of millennia of wars, making it thirsty work for you to get to their destination, but you encounter no resistance.
The directions you have lead to a small gully; at the end of it is a cliff wall with a door set into it approximately 15 feet off the ground.
At the end of the gully, about fifteen feet above the ground on a cliff face, is an ancient, ironbound door. Its wood is dried and cracked. Directly in front of the door is a steep slope of rubble and dust-crusted debris that, as luck would have it, provides a path—albeit a rough and difficult one— right up to the door.
Perceptions.
(I will take your checks here and make a macro of them for the episode, so make sure they are the right numbers :) )

Brayden Green |

sweet! two more hits. And just a shade under a decade too...
(Is it too early to call this dead?)

Brayden Green |

I am officially declaring this thread on life support, and let's just say that I have my hand on the plug, and the "no resucitate" order has been signed.
If anyone wants this thread to continue I need 5-10 posts a day minimum, 1 or 2 from each poster.
So let's get it rolling, or not. :)

Brayden Green |

Some of you see what looks like a human up at the top of the clearing, and watch it jump down feet away from you in this gully.
Question: Are any of you proudly/openly displaying that you are from the Pathfinder Society on your clothing? They give out badges and that sort of thing at the embassy.

Brayden Green |

free free free.

Brayden Green |

sooooo... Hungry. I I can't ssstand it. And here is for food for me.
So before anyone does anything, or even has time to react, the creature says the above, and then notices your PFS badges and instantly straightens up and looks very very human, and womanly.
You notice that it is wearing "explorer" type clothing, and that it has a PFS badge on a torn sash.
It narrows it's eyes at the badge, as if remembering something, and then says, in a completely human voice "I was a Pathfinder. I love the organization, though I am afraid that my adventuring lead me here, and that this adventure might be the last of my routes for the Society. I doubt they'd let me in now... What a wretch I have become!"
My name is Marit Zargo, I was in the Qadiran sect. Myself and a few others discovered this ruins a few days ago, and we were attacked from the inside. I was the last one out, and I am afraid that I was bitten."
Knowledge Religion,or a high knowledge Nature if you would like.

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"Attacked from the inside? Are you sure it isn't still inside you?" Delivered with a wry smile.
Pausing... and realizing the situation he wipes the smirk from his face and tries to sound a touch more concerned. "What exactly attacked you?" He makes no effort to move towards the manthing.

Brayden Green |

Bitten.
It was a ghoul. I blacked out once or twice, and only woke up this morning, with such a hunger that I couldn't believe.

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"You look every bit of hungry, anyone have any rations?"
Rutilus takes two short steps back while flexing his hand; loosening it up just in case he has to draw the dagger from the inside of his cloak.