''At one 'ad a bloody nasty punch, wroight." Holding his side he pulls out the wand he has tucked in his pouch, holding it out to Carr. "Nice strike, Carr, would you's mind, 'ealing up, 'ese wounds fer me?"
don't really wand to face a potential BBEG at 5 HP, ting has his own wand, can Carr us it to heal him?
A booming voice echoes throughout the chamber. "Gladly, friend Ting." As the giant Carr grips the tiny wand and pokes his small friend with it.
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
'That feels better!' As Carr waives the wand tings ribs and beak begin to heal. Moving his arm around he nods and lulls his tongue in a tengu smile, "Tanks!" returning the wand to his pouch, he turns to the door.
"I's'l check tha door, wroight." Turning he quickly checks the door for locks and traps, if/when it's clear he then opens the door and looks inside.
Ting will take 20(31) on perception, and take 10(30) on the lock, if it's trapped he rolls D.D.: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (5) + 22 = 27
Nothing bad is discovered on the door.
It is, in fact, a safe regular door.
As you open it,
This room is nicely decorated and comfortably furnished, unlike the rest of the complex. Cushioned chairs create a comfortable sitting area, and a large tapestry depicting a battle of dozens of dervishes in a bright yellow sandy desert adds color to the room.
The air is scented with cinnamon and trophy heads and animal skins decorate the floor and remaining walls.
A tanned man with a thick mustache and a turban stands near the tapestry.
A tiger stands at his feet, but none show any hostility.
"Who are you, to intrude upon this place, obviously having killed the people outside?"
Ok. This Guy's disposition is unfriendly and, if you recall the words from the VC,
"Zamir is an arrogant man whose loyalties lie with whoever can make him famous to the people of Jalmeray.
Right now he believes the Aspis Consortium is the answer. You will either convince him that the Society is the answer—as he could be a very powerful ally in the region—or you’ll end his operations for good. How you handle it, I leave to you. Good luck on your journey and may the gods guide your hand."
Diplomacy is an option. He needs to become helpful, if that condition is to be met, getting him to become a friend to the society.
No easy feat, since that is 3 steps away from one another.
Diplomacy DC vs him (unfriendly) lies at 21.
Diplomacy vs him (indifferent) lies at 16
Diplomacy vs him (friendly) is 11.
d20pfsrd is offline, some details i can't look up.
Everyone can try to unfluence an NPC's attitude once. That would include aid other attempts.
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Carr casts guidance on himself before he launches into a tirade, after of course first confirming that this is the man they are looking for. "Greetings, great Zamir, at least I presume you to be Zamir as that is who I, the great and magnificent," Carr still being a good twelve feet tall continues, "Carrsoth van Beldenarr was sent to parlay with. We have come to persuade you to join us, the Pathfinder Society, in our crusade for good, and for your own betterment. As has been evinced, we are more than a match for anything here and I've personally slaughtered a few Aspis agents when they've been foolish enough to cross my path. You would do well to join us and reap benefits rather than earn our ire." He tries to keep it as friendly as possible, but can't help reminding their target of what awaits should he say no.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17
Reroll, don't think I have yet this scneario...
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32
Hands down, diplomacy ownage right here, ladies and gentlemen.
Zamir fondles one end of his mustache in contemplation.
"Hmm, i see.
If the aspis are incompetent enough to be defeated by a group of 4 sent by another organization, that speaks for your employer, doesn't it.
Same goes for my followers."
The tiger eyes the group, at which Zamir strokes the tiger's head.
One hand supporting the other's elbow, holding his chin between thumb and indexfinger, he continues.
"If your organization is as capable as you four are, perhaps it would indeed benefit me and my own goals."
His sharp dark eyes lock onto Carr's.
"Very well. I will come with you. Show me where i can get acquainted with your superiors."
I'll let you have some RP before going to the final debriefing.
"Well, that went rather well, didn't it? I thought we'd have to kill more of them after the first guards were so foolish."
Then Mylvwara catches herself and addresses Zamir, "My apologies: welcome to the Pathfinder Society. We shall all grow by our association."
Then she slips into Vudrani, "የማይታወቅ መንግሥት ን በጭራሽ አይጎብኝም ነበር. በጉዞዎቻችን ወቅት ስለ ባህልና ልማዳችሁን ሊያስተምሩን እንደምችል ተስፋ አደርጋለሁ?"
Man Carr, if I had known you were going to talk him into it that easy, I would have saved the wand! Great roll :-)
Ting nods his head in agreement with Carr, "'E's bloody well wroight."
Seeing that they have made a new friend, Ting sheaths his sword, holding up the scepter, "So's what do we's do wit 'is?"
for what it's worth, I assumed it was a little later, as they were leaving.
Seeing that they have made a new friend, Ting sheaths his sword, holding up the scepter
Generally, that implies you sheath your sword at the end of the conversation. ^^ I mean, a -5 on all diplomacy checks...ouch.But since Carr already passed the entire check thing, it's just flavor here.
Zamir looks with a frown at Ting, who's waving the (fake) scepter.
He doesn't look too pleased, but Carr had him properly convinced about the benefit of the society, for him not to act and let his tiger have giant chicken for lunch.
"Yes, let us speak of great things and find people of like minds to grow greater together." Around this time, Carr would shrink back to normal size. "Ah, good. It would be hard to take the stairs at that size. I am the Angel, Carrsoth van Beldenarr, these are Ting, Foxy, and Brallenera. We will ensure your safe passage to a meeting with some venture officers or other such ranked individuals within the Society. You have my word on it, as surely as I am wearing pants." He is in fact wearing pants, in case there were a doubt.
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Once outside, and walking a bit down the hill, a cry for help comes from the walls.
"Hey guys, could you get me down from here, please?
I don't want to starve hanging from the balcony, sort to speak."
Zamir pays no attention to the guard hanging from the battlements of the crumbling wall.
sense motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
'Did I say something wrong?' Ting looks from the frowning Zamir to his friends, shrugging his shoulders, he follows the others back outside; tucking the scepter back into his pack where he had been carrying it.
Hearing the hanging thief call out, Ting toddles up the stairs to the wall. Hoisting the thief up, he draws his Kukri and slices the bonds, shrugging his shoulders. "No harm's do, wroight." He hustles to catch up to the rest of the party.
The man rubs his wrist, still somewhat surprised his pleas were actually answered.
He himself hurries over to the party, as the only one of three
"So erm...things have gone different than i'd expected, everyone up here is dead. Since i've nowhere specific to go as is, would...your organization take in explorers or scouts?"
Leaving the ruins behind, you take along the four prisoners, your charge, and the tag-along bandit.
Who, seemingly wanting to prove himself reliable, catches the next few days' food worth in rabbit, apples and fish.
The four seem to get some color back in their faces, after the needed sun and nutritions.
Eventually coming to the VC's office...
"Ah! You return, what of the assignment, has it gone fi-
Zamir looks around, taking in the surroundings.
"Working out of this establishment would do. It needs a few stylish chairs though."
The VC stands up.
"Zamir, i take it. It's good to see you all alive and well."
"So, pathfinders, tell me of what happened, please.", as he makes an inviting gesture towards nearby chairs.
Mylvwara takes a seat, "Thank you." and opens her journal.
"Following your instructions we made clumsy attempts to 'hide' the scepter until we were set upon by bandits. Despite Ting's best efforts to let them steal the thing, they fled without the sceptre and we tracked the bandits back to Zamir's hideout."
Her tone becomes more serious, "Sadly, the first few groups of Zamir's employees that we met only understood the language of violence and my companions were forced to slay most of them. Thankfully, as we passed deeper into the fort, Zamir's guards realised that discretion is the better part of valour and we were able to pass most unhindered. The penultimate guards even acquiesced to our demand that they release the four slaves which they had taken."
Mylvwara inclines her head toward Zamir, "Zamir had an unusual guardian, some kind of golem - I have detailed it in my notes - and we had to destroy that before Carr was able to persuade Zamir that the Pathfinders were natural associates for a man of his calibre."
She looks at her companions, "Was that it? Anything else... Oh, yes, a guard we overcame tagged along on the journey back and seeks employment amongst the pathfinders. He seems a passable woodsman, and eager to please."
Mylvwara gives a final shrug, "I believe that's everything."
She closes her notebook and sits back in the chair.
ting, standing on one foot, nods his head in agreement with Mylvwara. "It's loike tha elfy say's. We's met 'ese textilie's merchants an' shared a carrot. 'en we's whacked tha' bloody tar outa tha blokes lookin' fer tha shiney rod." He pulls the rod out of his pack to demonstrate that he still had it.
He lulls his tongue in a tengu smile. "En we's followed 'em bruised an bloody blokes ta 'air hidey hole an' whacked 'em a good'un again's, wroight." Cocking his head as his smile 'widens.'
ting shrugs his shoulders, nodding toward Carr. "'en it got borin' fer a minute whiles peoples yackity yacked, but we's got ta whack a dancin' stature. Sounded like cat's claws on slate, when ya hit tha bloody ting. But we's tore it up good!"
ting, shifting onto his other foot, then cocks his head toward there guest. "'En 'is bloke decided ta join tha pathyfin'er's an we's came back."
The woodsman raises his hand.
"Erm, yes, hello there sir. I am looking for a job, and these people said i should speak to you about that."
The VC looks from him back to you, and a small smile shows on his face.
"It seems you've won over more than just mister Zamir here."
"Stick around, when my talk with them is over, we can discuss employment."
Carr lets others do his bragging for him. To his mentor Brallenera's statements, he replies, "You have trained me in the art of being very angry, and led by a grand example. You are a valuable asset and a member of our team. I would be saddened by your absence! Also, I believe you struck a number of gentleman above ground with such force they broke instantly... and did you not scare a man such that he leaked fluid down his leg?"
Carr laughs. "Not useful, bah. If anyone wasn't useful, it was the thieves. They couldn't take a scepter from a sleeping birdman, and they abandoned the one of their number that did put a hand on it." He slaps a hand on her back, in what he approximates as a gesture a dwarf might. "There will be other fights!"
ting looks toward the woodsman and then the venture captain, shrugging his shoulders, in a very human fashion. "Well's 'en, welcome ta tha pathyfin'ers, you's'll do bloody well fine, wroight."
Nodding his head in agreement with Carr. "Yeah missy, you's took care of tha bloke on th steps," Thinking for a moment as he shifts from one crowsfoot to the other, "an' you's was a fantabulous help wit tha bloody stature! Me's an' Carr moight not 'ave been able ta hit's it if'n you's weren't distractin' it swingin' yer dwarfy wood chopper at it!" Ting, convinced he has said enough to encourage the 'Mistress of Mayhem' Lull's his tongue in a tengu smile.
Mylvwara addresses the VC directly, but is clearly speaking to two audiences from the way she repeatedly glances at her fellow field agents, "I must say, Captain, that this is a very effective and cohesive unit. I am very glad to have had the opportunity to work alongside them and would welcome the opportunity to do so again."
Her fox familiar appears from beneath her robes and gives a little bark, "It appears that Cariad concurs."
Here we go, apply safety belts, if you please.
The descent down through the forgotten maintenance tunnels and natural caverns below Absalom has been mercifully uneventful, and offers plenty of time to think back on the events of the day.
Messengers found you across Absalom before sunrise and summoned you to the Grand Lodge on orders from Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng.
His milky, half-closed eyes, normally offering a bearing of regal decrepitude, instead looked sour as he apologized for the early hours and introduced a thick man bearing the scars of many horrific burns seated in a chair in Dreng’s office, his feat soaking in a small metal bucket of steaming water.
Behind him stand two enormous, heavily armored half-orcs, their arms crossed over their massive chests and all four of their eyes constantly scanning the room for danger.
"Pathfinders, this is Grandmaster Torch," Dreng muttered sleepily.
Torch watches you all.
"He’s an... associate of the Society. We owe him a favor after some business earlier, and it seems he’s looking to collect."
"You wound me, my lord," says Grandmaster Torch, leaving Dreng chuckling softly to himself in the background. "I come in the interest of the common good. You see, my good friend and occasional business associate, Nuar Spiritskin, is missing.
You may know him better as the Minotaur Prince of Absalom, the head of the Taurean Embassy and something of a famous foreign dignitary, what with his assertions that he speaks for all Minotaurs everywhere.
A collection of papers recently entered my possession that spoke of a grand maze beneath the city;
naturally, my first instinct was to discuss the matter with Nuar.
He seemed as intrigued as I and after I elicited his help, he set
out at once for the maze.
It has been several days, more than enough time for a minotaur to solve a maze, and I grow worried for my bovine chum."
He pauses briefly.
"Clearly, I cannot take this matter to the guard. Poor Nuar would be scandalized if word got around that he couldn’t solve a simple maze. I can provide you with directions to this maze, called Delirium’s Tangle, if you promise to return Nuar quietly to his home.
I’m even willing to let your organization keep the artifact I believe lies in the maze’s center. Some ancient, elven hourglass—my notes aren’t specific as to what it does. Just ensure the Prince’s safety."
Dreng looks incredulous, but solemnly nods. "Nuar is a useful ally to the Society and a lost labyrinth below Absalom herself is too convenient to pass up. Take an hour to prepare and then head out. And be thorough; no telling what you’ll find down there."
’I don’t know this bloke.’ ”I’s is Ting Tang.” The black tengu doffs his conical helmet and gives a bow, making his goggles and the nasty scar at the base of his bent beak visible. As he stands upright he continues, ” me Pappy taught’s me skills Pathyfiners find ‘elpful, An I likes bein’ ‘elpful, speciallies when a ‘ittle sparkly’s ‘vailable, Wroight?” He winks, ”I knows a ting ‘bout locks and sich.” Then lulling his tongue in a tengu smile, he wrests his hands on the handles of his bastard sword and his sawtooth sabre, ”’an I know’s me way 'round a blade.”. He then winks, ”Welcome’s aboard, we’s is 'bout ta have a good time, wroight.”
Ting nods politely to the Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. But glares at the seated Torch. As the ‘Grandmaster’ speaks his eyes shift, from his fellow pathfinders, to the two large half-orcs, back to the captain and then Torch. When Torch is done speaking Ting ruffles his feathers in clear dislike for the man, turning to the Venture-Captain, he adds, ”If ‘is little task will rid us o’ tha favor we’s ow’s 'at bloke ‘en good riddance ta ‘im.” As he turns to leave, he says to the others, ”Looks loike we’s got's some last minute shoppin’ so’s ta speak. So's I’s’l be back in an hour, wrought.”
in the tunnel
Taking point Ting sets his ioun stone torch spinning around his helmet. His bastard sword in his left claw and his right claw resting on his chakram pouch, he begins to move forward, keeping a keen eye out.
he will take 10 (21) on perception just to get his bearings
also, going to go check tings supplies, if he needs to buy anything I will post a purchase list in discussion before my next post. I assume any magical items we can afford (including ioun stones) are available for purchase in Absalom
Quinn gives the Tengu a brief smile, "I have heard stories of your exploits, Master Ting. You and your companions: Carr the Angel-blooded and Brallenera the dwarven hero." He nods at each of you as he speaks.
"I look forward to working beside you all."
He adjusts his long coat, "My name is Quinn. I have a little alchemy, a little knowledge, a little combat skill... I will do all in my power to aid you."
Delirium's Tangle? I wonder who built it.
Not keen to ruffle feathers, Quinn remains distant from Torch, despite being intrigued by his appearance. "Very well, where do we enter this maze?"
Carr looks at Torch and gets the fuzziest recollection. Didn't I kill you? He shrugs it off as a temporal anomaly, and then considers again. Didn't you send us after those abhorrent statues? "Should we take out insurance policies? I seem to recall last time we came upon the good master Torch, some died, and giant bugs attempted to eat us."
Sure, let's go with that.
By the bits of information provided by Grandmaster Torch, you descend from Absalom’s maintenance tunnels into a network of natural caverns over the course of an hour of travel.
Light sources are a necessity for any characters that lack darkvision.
Ting notices some odd humanoid footprints as you delve deeper, and signs of insects, as bits of carapace are found.
Journey takes: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 1) = 3 hours. Nice, so little time.
Ting carefully examines the tracks (take 10), and within an hour, you stumble upon the tunnel entering something bigger.
Light sources at the ready? For those without darkvision.
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Carr complains slightly about being beneath the city, and the smells, and the things he sees, and basically just complains to do so.
Ting is using his 'ioun torch' as his light source.'
Oy, 'airs some odd footy-prints an' some bug shells, does any o' you's blokes recognoiter 'em?" Ting looks carefully at the carapace and foot prints, trying to recognize them. He then spends a few minutes attempting to follow the prints.
any information he learns he will share with the group
Knowledge: prints; dungeoneering or nature: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Knowledge: carapace; dungeoneering or nature: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
is he following the tracks already?
Survival(track): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Seeing the tunnel open up into something bigger, Ting carefully proceeds forward, keeping to right, moving slowly into the area keeping a keen eye out; sword in one talon, the other resting on his chakram pouch. "Oy, Mistress o' Mayhem, is you's dwarfy senses tingling?"
staying to the right, taking 10(21) on perception