GM Chie's Gallows of Madness (Inactive)

Game Master Korolan

Fizzlebottom stoops to pick up the sap and examines it. "This is odd. I wonder who left this here? And why? In any case, I'll take it unless it's useful to any of you fight-y types..."

Dusty will join Miri's attempts with a cold iron bolt of his own.

Between Dusty and Miri scraping away at the goo, it comes off pretty easily. The tree looks like it will recover, but probably not any time soon.

Next on the list: Pricknettle's Potions and Poultices!

Pricknettle's Potions and Poultices is a small cheerful cottage encircled with a wooden fence. Inside are organized shelves, with every type of alchemical remedy or aid categorized. Behind the sales counter, the proprietor, Majara Pricknettle, is working with a series of beakers and glass tubes, alembics and other alchemical equipment while a small flame burns under another bubbling beaker. "Welcome to Pricknettle's, where we cure what ails you! What brings you in this afternoon? Looking to take the edge off that hangover? I have Soothe Syrup behind the counter!" Her bubbly demeanor matches her bright blue hair and lace-trimmed blue leather Alchemist's Apron.

Bash clomps inside with his heavy boots, doing his best to keep his weaponry safely away from all the breakables. "Real Dwarves don't get hangovers... we just get thirsty for more ale."

After finding a safe place to stand he continues, his comrades seemingly having lost their voices temporarily "The Mayor asked us to hunt down those kids that didn't show up to work lately. This place was on that list." He says, doing his best to be.. less like himself.

"Well, well, well, mighty fine to make your acquaintance, if you don't mind me saying so! And these are some fine looking libations you are selling here. I might just need some soothe syrup - sea travel don't agree with me, not a bit of it. I'm sure that you can likely help me, though I need to earn a bit of coin before I'll be able to purchase any of your wares..."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

By the way, speaking of earning a bit of coin, the Mayor has asked us to help find these missing apprentices. I hear one of 'em was yours. Don't suppose you can help us? Any idea what might have become of them? When did you last see your apprentice?"

Miri tries to be helpful. "Yeah! Ah, we were very sorry to hear about your missing apprentice. We'd like to help if we can." She fidgets nervously, maybe thinking about how her last attempt to make friends and be sympathetic went.

Diplomacy, aid another attempt: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Near the infected tree.

Making sure cold iron helps, Kiddir joins in cleaning the tree from infection. "I knew from what material is made this chain, but never thought it will come in handy so soon."

In the next shop.

Stands and silently watches, with hands crossed on his chest.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16 Anything unusual in the store.
Sence Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17 Anything alarming in the reactions.

Back into the swing of things! Thanks for the patience around the holidays!
Majara's demeanor, after hearing the name of her apprentice, begins to sour. "Gellion is late for work again, and that is all that needs to be said about the matter. If you are looking for Anything that Alchemy can Aid you with, I am more than willing to help you find what you need. If you have no other business here, I'm certain you can find your way out." With that, she diverts her attention back to the complex alchemy kit.

Anybody else want to try and talk to her?

Miri looks a little flustered. "But -- you aren't worried about him?"

She then has a thought. "Wait, you saw Gellion yesterday?"

'Late for work again,' or 'hasn't shown up again'? We're trying to help, I should think she would want to tell us everything she knows. Hush gestures at Majara. Can you talk to us please?

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

For the record: This information is the same that I gave to Kiddir.

As Miri tries to talk to Majara, and Hush signals toward her, she seems to be avoiding further talk about Gellion.
If anyone else would like to attempt to help with Diplomacy, here's your chance!

Ma'am we ain't gonna force you to talk to us if you don't want to. We're just hopin' to help Gellion if he's in any kinda trouble.

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (9) - 2 = 7

Sense Motive, DC15: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

Bash watches on as the others try grilling the little gnome over Gellion What the Christ.. why are women so f~*@in difficult some times!

He holds his tongue for a bit, but if the others don't make some headway he shakes his head a bit disgustedly and slides the Mayor's writ across the table.

Fizzlebottom eyes the goings on with a sleepy stare. He's normally quite charming but perhaps this time he should have had some coffee beforehand... He glances around the shop, wondering if there is perhaps a bunsen burner of coffee someplace.

Having already flubbed my Diplomacy roll, I assume that there's not much more that I can do...

'I think you should stop evading the question right now. When it comes out - and it will happen - everyone will know that you knew or saw something unusual or important, but not reported. It will not end well. I promise.'

Without changing his position, kiddir says this slowly in a hoarse voice.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

With Kiddir's insinuation, her previously cheerful face turns bright red with anger. "How DARE you insinuate I know what is going on here? I haven't seen Gellion in DAYS! You think that I wouldn't be helpful if I knew what was going on? The NERVE of you coming into My Shop and thinking I have something to do with this. Get out of my store this instant you THUGS! Go shake down Father Ildris! His daughter is probably the cause of all this nonsense!" After quickly shooing you all out the door, she slams it shut behind you. A moment later, the door pops open as she throws your letter from the Mayor out the door with you, before shouting, "Don't even THINK about coming back!"

That... didn't go as intended. But maybe you have some good information?

Sense Motive,DC5: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Bash bends down to pick up the writ "Well that ain't great. Pissin off the potion Gnome Kiddir, she's gonna turn ya into a newt fer sure! How 'bout we take this shit show to Father Ildris."

Bash leads the way, shaking his head and muttering something about women and gnomes in general.

"Mistake."

He shrugs and goes in the direction of Father Ildris.

"Communicate with commoners better without me. But remember - some of them will be involved. There is always one traitor."

Well at least we know there's somethin' goin' on that links some of these apprentices.

Fizzlebottom listens to Bash's rantings about gnomes with amusement. "Really? Do tell... It seems as if one of my brethren has managed to disturb you at some point or another. I'm sure that must be a hilarious tale!" ... and as the group continues down the lane towards the residence of Father Ildris, Fizzlebottom alternates between speculations about the various ways that gnomes may have disturbed poor Bash's sense of calm, and guffawing at the same.

Miri's eyes go wide. "Wow. She... has some issues, and we're only here to solve one of 'em."

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (15) - 2 = 13

"Kiddir, are you sure it's going to be one of the shopkeeps though? Maybe it's one of the shopkeepers who still has their apprentice. Or maybe a would-be apprentice who was rejected? Who would have a reason to take the apprentices? Doesn't seem like Majara would have done it..."

One of the few stone buildings in Saringallow, the Temple of Erastil looks to be considerably older than many of the other buildings in town. The two story building is missing many of the adornments that you would expect from a temple, instead having a large lodging room, and built in infirmary. A couple wait nervously outside the infirmary. A dwarf with flecks of grey mixed in with his ginger beard comes to them somberly. "Jonas and Elise should be just fine with a little bit of rest. I'm sure Jonas learned his lesson about sneaking up on his sister. I'm unfortunately out of aid for the day, but first thing in the morning I should be able to patch them up good as new."

After chatting with the two, he directs his attention to Bash. "Ah! Welcome kinsman, to the Temple of Erastil!" He offers his hand out for a shake, before glancing down, and wiping the blood off on his smock. "Sorry about that. Farmers and folk take the most of my days, but I'm always willing to help out the community when they need it! I'm Father Ildris, what brings you here?"

Disappearances. Hush looks around approvingly at the temple and its servant greeting them. Though Erastil has little appreciation for Love and Beauty, Hush respects his followers for the good works they do.

Bash grumbles at Fizzlebottom on the trip over as he starts to get in on Bash's ramblings. "Not you, that damned harpie at the potion shop. MOST Gnomes ain't such a pain in the ass, she's just takin' the cake."

"Eh" Says Bash, taking the man's hand without a second thought. "Mayor asked us to take a look 'round town 'bout these missing kids. These apprentices. One of 'em is yers?" He asks, doing his best to keep his language clean, at least for the moment.

He looks back at the others for a more thorough and thoughtful explanation.

Miri nods. "Bash is right. We've been asked to investigate what happened to the kids and we're trying to talk to everyone to learn what we can about what might have happened. Hopefully we can get them back safe and sound!"

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (5) - 2 = 3 Fizzlebottom has no clue about Bash's motives but accepts his comments about Gnomes with his usual whimsical good humor.

"Greetings, Father Ildris! I don't suppose you have any idea what's become of all the missing apprentices?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

There we go! I love it when we can do things the easy way!

With a bit of a laugh, Father Ildris smiles at Fizzlebottom. "I wouldn't be surprised if her and Gellion were off on another one of their 'Adventures. That girl has had Wanderlust ever since she was born. Her folks were lost to the Goblinblood Wars years ago, and I found the babe whilst digging through the wreckage of the Temple of Erastil. The bell of temple itself landed Just around her as the temple collapsed! I felt the only thing I could do was take the little one in, and I've been raising her as my own ever since! She has a tendency to bend the rules sometimes, but she means no harm. I think she wishes she was a little bit more heroic, and goes out of her way to try and prove it. The lass has only been gone 2 days, which is shorter than some of the other folks have been missing. If her and Gellion went on another one of their 'Adventures,' they most certainly met up at the Graveyard of Erastil on the outskirts of town."

With a bit of a wistful smile from reminiscing, he suddenly snaps back into focus. "Well, if you all need patched up, or feel like helping a few farmers, The temple of Erastil is always here!"

Well I hope he's right about this bein' harmless, but either way, I reckon we should head on out to the graveyard.

"Eh. We ahhh found this black goo around the orchard. Someone said it was demon bile? Thought I should be warnin ya, need cold iron. And don't eat it I guess, because that's the first thing I'd do..." Bash takes a glance around the room before spinning on his heel and heading out towards the Graveyard.

Father Ildris's face immediately turns from a good nature to concern at hearing "Demon's Bile." "Demon's Bile, this far south of the Worldwound? That's some serious concern. If you see any more of the stuff, hit it with Cold Iron! Either that or Holy Water. If you need something made of Cold Iron, I'm sure that Saringallow's Sundries should be able to find something for you. We see enough people on their way to Mendev, that we regularly stock Cold Iron and Alchemical Silver weapons. I might head there before going to deal with any more Demon's Bile."

Those're a good idea even if you don't know you'll be muckin' about with demons. They don't always give a fella a decent heads up.

Before the Temple of Erastil

"Kiddir, are you sure it's going to be one of the shopkeeps though? Maybe it's one of the shopkeepers who still has their apprentice. Or maybe a would-be apprentice who was rejected? Who would have a reason to take the apprentices? Doesn't seem like Majara would have done it..."

"It can be anyone. Any among those who live here. This is the trick."

During the conversation with Father Ildris

Defiantly silent, crossing his arms. Think everyone knows what happens if he begins to speak. But while he's clearly not going to.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 looking for the lie in the words of the 'holy father'

"Father, you are most kind to us poor adventurers. You can be assured that we will do our best to bring your adopted daughter back safe and sound. My friends, perhaps we should proceed to the graveyard and see if there is any sign of the apprentices there?"

Bash looks over at Fizzlebottom as he suggests they hit the graveyard next "Woah now there man. Didn't ya hear the Father? We NEED cold iron! This Dwarf needs it, all I got is some lousy arrows I found a few years back, I need a mace or hammer or SOMETHING with some meat on it before I go playin 'round in some demon infested graveyard!"

I vote strongly for the sundries, fighters won't go without their weaponry!

To the Sundries!

"Indeed, to the Sundries! I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Oh, it's fine." says Miri. "If they're not for you, you can hang back with me and gaze lovingly at all of the pretty things you can't afford right now!"

Agreed. To the Sundries!

*shrugs*

The Sundries store is small but efficiently organized, with a variety of weapons hanging from the wall. Many common tools Any mundane item less than 2200 GP are stacked and sorted specifically, as townsfolk and clerks bustle around selling and haggling over wares. Upon entering, an unenthusiastic young man in an almost threadbare cloth apron and a shock of bright blue hair comes to meet you. With a disinterested sigh and an Eye-roll he adds "Welcome to Saringallow Sundries, your one stop shop in Saringallow. How may we be of assistance today?"
Seeing how Bash has been dropping it on ever counter so far, I think it would be a safe assumption that you would show it to this guy?
Upon Displaying the writ from the mayor, his eyes widen. "Uh... Let me get my Manager, I don't think that I have the authority to honor this." Leaving his post at the door for just a moment, he returns with a tall woman with a bright smile follows him to the front.
"Thank you for stopping by in our little town! It looks like you are on an errand for the mayor! If there is any way that I can assist you, don't hesitate to ask!"

I have a Gaming Weekend and Frozen Pipes, and everybody is all ready to go!

Considering how our people skills have been going and Bash's personal people skills, its a fair assumption it would come out sooner than later. I just got my hot water back in the kitchen myself, go go winter!

"Now we be talkin! You guys do the chattin, I got some shoppin to do eh?" Bash leaves the note with the others and high tails it into the cold iron, bludgeoning section of the store and starts hefting all manner of weaponry. Squinting at the craftsmanship and swinging things left, right, and from high to low to test out the balance. If they brought the bar in here I think I'd never leave!

He spends a particularly long time swinging and admiring a cold iron warhammer. "Whatcha gotta have for this one? Gimme a fair price and I won't dicker with ya, we ain't got time for that shit, work needs gettin done!"

A halfling clerk stumbles and and weaves out of the way as Bash swings the metal hammer to and fro in the occupied store. "Sir!" Whoosh "SIR!" WHOOSH "SIR!"

Deftly dodging out of the way of the swings, he begins to tug lightly on the back of Bash's Armor. "Sir, Normally that Wonderful Hammer would be 24 whole gold pieces. Because you are on an errand from the Mayor, My manager has given me permission to give you a Special Discounted rate of 12 Gold, as long as you quit swinging it in the store!"

If you would like to make any purchases in the Sundries, the Mayor (who organizes this Co-Op General store) has gotten you a special 50% discount on one Mundane, Non-Masterwork weapon or Armor. Not a bad deal!

After a minute of hearing this weird sound below him Who's this SIR this Halfling lout keeps hollerin' at?

Bash stops and smiles at the clerk "You made my day kid, half price warhammer? SOLD!" Bash gives him the hammer to clean up and wrap as he digs out a dusty coin pouch, turning away from the others so they can't see how much he's got squirreled away.

The ornery Dwarf lays down 12 gold pieces, minted from Absalom stock, one at a time on the counter. Laying each down with a gentle hand, almost like he's parting with an old friend each time. "Maybe throw a leather strap on that thing so its easier to hang off me belt fer easy access would ya kid? I'll be sure to tell the Mayor mahself yer doin a bang up job down here."

"Absolutely!" the halfling chimes in, pulling a 'Clever Fox' branded belt hook from an apron pocket, before clasping it around Bash's Belt and fastening it into place. "The saleswoman gave us a very good price on these when she came through town! Speaking of coming through town, what brings you to Saringallow? Heading up to Mendev? That's what most people come for Cold Iron are looking for!"

"We're here lookin' fer some kids that ain't shown up to work lately, apprentices 'round town." He looks down at the leather hook on his belt and nods approvingly as he makes a few test draws of his warhammer from it.

"You guys have anyone here that keeps buggerin' off from work too? How 'bout that blue haired kid with the ratty apron? He's got that look about 'im." Bash levels an unfriendly stare in 'blue hair's direction.

The halfling furrows his brow in response to Bash. "Nope, everybody that is supposed to be here is here! Was Nolaria Wintren on your list perhaps? She came in a few days ago looking for the Biggest, Heaviest cold iron weapon she could find. We sold her a Cold Iron Morningstar before she headed out. Do you think she could be in trouble?"

Bash raises a black, bushy eyebrow, causing it to disappear under his oversized helmet "Nolaria... she's from over at the Temple eh? She could be, or she's just off playin' adventurer with her friends. We're gonna find out pretty f~&+in' quick hopefully." He drops his brow back down to its normal state as he looks around the rest of the shop.

"Anyone else local been 'round inna here buying cold iron weapons? How bout holy waters? I'd take a couple them too if ya got any. So long as it ain't Elvish holy water..."

Hush nods emphatically. Yes, she's on our list. Then he located a cold iron shortsword and digs through his pouch for gold. Can I buy this?

Will purchase a cold iron shortsword for the discounted rate of 10 gp.

Miri sighs and shakes her head. Wish I'd managed to save some of my discharge pay. Oh well.

Fizzlebottom peers into his pouch, finding it disturbingly empty, before smiling at the shop attendant, as he recalls that he doesn't have much of an idea what he would do with a cold iron weapon anyway.

"My goodness, Nolaria wanted a cold iron morningstar? Did that seem odd to you? Did you ask her anything about it at the time? We would certainly appreciate any help you can give us!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21