GM Burglar's 00-24: Decline of Glory (Inactive)

Game Master mechaedd

"HOLD, by Stavian's hand, HOLD!" Hiram shouts as loud as he can (and he's very very loud) as soon as he sees the Taldan Crown. "Peace, brothers! We are agents of the Crown ourselves, sent here to investigate the condition of the brewery. Unless you wish to interfere with His Majesty's business, I suggest you allow us to pass!"

Bluff, Bluff, Bluff the Nobles!: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

Did someone say fire? haha

I can’t see the map, how far away from me are they, and how many targets do I see?

One is about 15' and the other is about 20' Two targets

And the fog blocks los from 10 feet

Opal moves forward 10 feet and unleashes a stream of seasure-indusing colors from her hands.
Color Spray, Will DC 14 save. I am assuming I can hit both in one shot. If I can't let me know and I will chose another action.

They've got 10 feet between each other, so no 15 foot cone. They're a 7 and a 10 pin in bowling, if that's understandable.

The warrior draws his sword, and stands his ground.

We are lawful travellers on legitimate business - state your authority!, Luccinus bellows.

Opal will don her shield and pull her morningstar in preparation.

Initiative Roadblock!

Hiram sighs. "When you hit the Boneyards lads, be sure to remind Pharasma that I tried to save your worthless hides." Drawing the really fancy rapier I bought!

All movement is considered to be over rough terrain due to the wet, swampy conditions.

Round 2:

Hiram slogs up to #1 and pokes him with steel!
Free action turn on Arcane strike, move action slog through muck, standard action STAB!

Stabbity Stab: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
1d6 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Fun Fact: Arcane Stike is a swift action to activate, though it doesn't really matter here. It would matter if you were trying to maintain a baric performance, though, since swifts can't be done with downgraded move or standard actions. *The More You Know! Also, 1s are funny.

Chelsea conjures a ball of flame and throws it at the soldier not engaged in melee.
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 (Touch)
Damage 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Luccinus fearlessly charges one of the soldier with a vicious overpowered strike.

Sword with Charge 1d20 + 6 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (20) + 6 + 2 - 1 = 27
Damage 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

- 2 to AC / AC 21

Confirm?

1d20 + 6 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (8) + 6 + 2 - 1 = 15
1d8 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Ander fires another arrow at the soldier on the right.

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

He then throws down his ineffective bow, cursing, and draws his curve blade.

You are in no place to bargain sir. But she still casts Stabilize on the fallen man. He won't die now, but you should bandage him up and let him recover.

Opal flips the man over so he's stable and not drowning. "Still got what I wanted, though." he says as he coughs up a chuckle and a little blood. "Now you will, too, missy. What'chyou wanna know before you step into the fine little ****hole bum****-nowhere town known as Railford?"

Hiram smiles at the man's bargaining. Taldan pride has truly fallen a bit in recent years...

"Where's Becher these days?"

Chelsea blows a few tendrils of smoke off of her fingertips and stares down the man with the ruined face.
"You scream and it will be the last thing you do. You better answer all of their questions."

Intimidate 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

And magic is a horrible way to go... you'll be begging me for a clean death.

He gives the remaining guard a grim smile.

I'd listen to her if I were you - you WILL talk, one way or the other.

Assist Other Initimidate 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Seeing his friend breathing and the scary people, he responds. "Boss man Grald tol' us that that Becher's squattin' on land he ain't got the deed for. Said his dad'd never give him the deed, with all the disagreein' they did. By Stavian's reform plan BS or whatever, we're here to get back the land and win us some noble titles. I'm guessin' that's what you lot are here for, if you're here by the 'crown's orders'."

He moves the hand away from his face and lets it cool in the drizzle. "Grald's an' Becher got some kinda history, but 'ya don't pry in to yer boss' baggage."

Interesting, Luccinus says in an off hand manner. So you attacked us on the suspicion that we were here on a legalistic landgrab, the same as you and you wanted to put us in the ground rather than share?.

He turns to Hiram.

I'm no expert in Taldan law but this sounds like attempted murder at best, and attempted treason against those thought to be crown agents at worst. Whats the correct legal approach here?

"Look, we attacked 'ya 'cause Grald said 'hit anyone who tries to interfere with takin' this rogue squatter lord'. Personally, I couldn't care less what happens to this ****hole, but a job's a job. If yer lookin' tah murder someone fer this, it's Grald. I'd say that bum-rushin' him's suicidal; he's got so much Phalanx trainin', it's absurd. Mentality like a general and hard as a weary traveler's companion in the best whorehouse in Oppara, if you ask me."

Hush now, we're talking, says Luccinus absently as he looks to Hiram, waving the bloody tip of his sword near the guardsman's face.

He turns his full attention to Hiram.

Normally the traditional legal precedent is hanging for either... but I'd hate to be on the wrong side of precedent. Is there some leeway for clemency here?

Hiram takes up a thoughtful pose. "Hmm. On the one hand they were following orders. On the other, they did attack us while we were under the pretext of being agents of the King. Ah well, they are fellow Taldans. I say we leave them with their hands tied and their weapons confiscated. They'll be no more trouble to us, at least. And their information is useful."

When do you expect the rest of your unit to return? How often are there patrols?Ander says to the soldier.

"Ain't no patrols. We're layin' siege; we're just camped out all around the outside. The dogs smell anyone goin' through since we can't see through the damn fog, and when the dogs bark, then we follow our orders. There's only 'bout 8 more of us, plus Grald, though he's easily worth 5 of us combined, being a vet and whatnot." The man thumbs towards the direction you were traveling earlier. "Walk straight towards town, and you'll be in with Grald none the wiser." The man shudders. "You should see what he does about failure. It ain't as bad as gettin' gutted or burned alive, but it ain't no picnic either."

Very well - take the clothes on your back, a dagger and make yourself scarce. You can take your comrade there... or leave him. Thats your choice. By way of advice I'd recommend you take the dogs too... they'll keep you alive with food one way or the other. Off with your weapons... and while you're at it, tell us about your camp and where we can find it.

"Camp? We got a fire a few feet that way and a **** tent we have to share. Welcome to camp." He waves his one hand, to accentuate the majesty of his domain. "Now, I can't bloody move, let alone pick him up. When you guys are done askin' and takin' our stuff, get on yer way so I can yell for some help. I'll... blame it on the mist an' him goin' nuts or somethin'. I dunno. Morale's gone to **** anyways. Unless one of your fine folks wants 'ta carry us back."

MW composite longbow (+1 strength), MW longsword, quiver with 20 arrows, studded leather

Any objections if I claim one of the longswords all? I'll be tanking this adventure for the party and every little bit helps

Nope

Let us be on our way. This drizzle is becoming bothersome. Ander says dryly.

How about we move him to the tent and you leave guardsman - your soon to be former boss will send a patrol soon enough to recover him... because If I see you again here, with weapon in hand? I'd wade through spears and pikes to make sure I get YOU.

Thats about as far as my consideration for your wellbeing goes - a very sincere warning.

"I've got half-a-face; I'm not fightin' any time soon. I'll just slowly make my way over to find wherever the hell that medic stumbled off to..." He waddles his way off, after making sure someone dropped his buddy into the tent (or at least near the fire, and not face-down in muck.)

The party makes their way on Assuming you don't want to fight the other soldiers. If for whatever reason you do, let me know.

Atop a hillock stand half a dozen small stone cottages surrounding a tall brick and timber building topped with a massive tin-covered water drum. A sign over its looming doors reads Railford Distillery est. 4693. From a squat brick building sharing an adjoining wall with the distillery rises a long cylindrical chimney. A low, moss-covered cobblestone wall surrounds the entire property.

Railford appears vacant, as the windows of the houses are shuttered and boarded up (though the distillery seems untouched as far as such acts.) The town is not empty, as one villager voices his opinion, which emanates from within a house. "Hey, you! Grald's dog! Didn't we chase you out once already?!? Get out of Railford! This is our town, not yours!"

"Well, Taldor just seems to have the height of hospitality doesn't it?"
Chelsea remarks in response to the yelling.

In sore need of law and order..., he says somewhat disapprovingly.

Luccinus turns to the building that the voice came from.

We're not with this Grald or even with the Crown. We seek Becher for a discussion. We have no interest in disrupting the affairs of your town, he says firmly.

"We all have our ups and our downs," Hiram remarks sardonically. "Hail countryman! We've come to help Becher resolve his issues with the crown. Can you point us to him?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

A pause of silence (or perhaps hushed whispers) passes by. "If you ain't Gralt's men, then why does that one got Gralt's emblem on one their sword?"

Sharp eyes he's got, Luccinus mutters.

He then raises his voice.

One of the soldiers tried to stop me... turned out it was a bad move for him and I don't waste good steel.

"Indeed, some people shouldn't be entrusted with weapons! Luccinus here was kind enough to relieve the poor man of his burden and leave him alive to learn his lesson. I assure you, we're on the side of right! We want to help Becher. We're friends of his late father."

"I just want out of this rain."

"You killed one of 'em! Good job--" The man then hears the "left him alive" bit. "Oh. Well, good enough for us if you're willing to almost gut 'em! If you want to find Becher, talk to Dalard Fritch first. He'll be at the inn; he's Becher's old phalanx-mate. Just make sure they know the sword's not yours and you'll be able to walk right in."

Why would anyone want to have a lodge in this town?

We mean you no harm! Please, let us come in out of the rain!

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

anyone using their bows or other sword ? Suspicions aside, always take a bonus where you can

Hiram sighs. "Yes, that's right, insult them and then ask for help. That's a brilliant idea." He mutters under his breath.

Ander shrugs and addresses the crowd. Aye, we're here ta aid ye, and Becher specifically. Now if ye could point me lads and lasses to the nearest lodgin's we'd be obliged. Needs ta dry ours boots, slake our thirst, and stuff our gullets, if ye take me meaning. says the elf, trying to sound like what he thinks rural people might sound like.

The voice seems slightly confused. "Right... well, uh, th' Railford Inn. Jus' look to yer left; it's the big buildin', can't miss it. Full'a folk who'll dry yer boots and stuff yer gullet, if you get my meanin'. Th' militia's there, and Becher's right-hand man, Fritch, is there runnin' it. If anyone knows where Becher is, it's him."

As he starts toward the inn, Ander nudges Hiram with an elbow. See, you just have to know how to speak in the regional dialect. I can give you pointers if you'd like. The elf heads into the inn without waiting for an answer, clearly pleased with himself.