GM Endless Forms' PFS 07-12 The Twisted Circle (Inactive)

Game Master Mike Tuholski

Jiro dismounts from Honor and pets the horse's flank as he takes the other potion from Tin and applies the magical substance to the giant gash that is starting to fester on Honor's side. "Shhh... good job, boy!" he coos at the horse.

CMW: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (7, 2) + 3 = 12

Once his most prized possession is healed, Jiro turns to the cave. "We should investigate for any more gnolls in there. We cannot allow them to keep attacking travelers." the Bold Strider comments as he goes in on foot, sword drawn. Honor stays about 10' behind the man, used to this sort of thing.

Old Iron continues resting against the rock, hammer on his shoulder.

"Maybe we'll find some better gnolls. Their should hopefully be able to put up a halfway decent fight."

He shakes his head at the gnoll corpse at Tin's feet.

"At least better than these jokers."

"Better gnolls may be a relative term. These must be pretty depraved, resulting in their disfigurement."

Tin rubs the scar that remains of his (31 damage) wound and gives Cade a nod.

"Better. Less better. Whichever it is, let's just hope they's less lucky with their bows and arrows, you know?"

Tin peers into the cave.

"If they's in there, they probably heard us fightin'. So, we can 'spect them to be prepared."

Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Old Iron scratches the scales at the base of his neck, making a half-hearted effort to look for signs of travel nearby, not expecting to find anything but random gnoll and hyena tracks.

"Prepared is good. People usually do interesting things when they're prepared. You ever sneak up on an unprepared wizard? Most boring thing I've ever done. Spent more time washing him off my earthbreaker than fighting. Probably got more exercise, too."

He reaches back and massages the small of his back with the flat sode of his hammer.

"He probably would have just used those black tentacle things, or that cloud that smells bad, or used a fireball. They usually do that. Sometimes you get one that turns people into frogs or summons spider people and evil murder-children or some other weird crap you've never seen before. Might have been one of those."

Tin looks at Old Iron - a large dose of shock mixed with a small hint of admiration and approval.

"Yea.. well you know what else they's do? They shoot the crap outta whoever's goin' in front."

Tin then looks from Jiro to Cade and back to Old Iron.

"Sounds like you just volunteered. If that's the case, it's a'ight with me if you wanna save your chameleon power this time 'round to prevent any undesired surprisin' of 'em."

Tin plants the end of his spear in the ground, and smiling, gives Old Iron an "after you" gesture.

"Shoot me?"

He throws his head back and laughs.

"They can try. Even if they hit me, won't slow me down."

Old Iron shows off his teeth with a wide cockeyed grin.

"Betcha I can dodge an arrow with my eyes closed."

Necress doesn't follow much of the back and forth between Tyr and Tin. She watches their lips and catches a few words, but otherwise prepares herself to go into the cave.

After checking over the gnolls' bodies and fixing up your wounds, you head into the cave to see if there are more gnolls about. There are no gnolls waiting inside to ambush you but this place is quite interesting on its own:

Pictographs on the walls of this shallow cave show an indistinct winged creature navigating through a sea of swirling patterns and black dots. A clumsily constructed altar sits at the center of the cave. Dozens of small niches are carved into the wall, most filled with an odd assortment of items, teeth, scraps of clothing, a jar of white liquid, a wooden staff, several pieces of parchment, a cloth pouch, a leather satchel, and several identical wooden dolls.

The teeth are a mixture of human and gnoll and the white liquid in the jar is rancid cashew milk. The three wooden dolls are of exceptionally high quality and are almost identical. The wooden staff is of masterwork quality and covered in obscure symbols of Nethys. The cloth pouch is a spell component pouch. Several items in this room are magical.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Jiro sheathes his blade and has Honor remain outside once he sees the cave is devoid of life.

"I'm afraid that I am not much of an investigator." Jiro comments as he picks up a doll and looks it over. "Any of you good with this stuff? Tin, you were a cop once, right? Special Varisian Unit, I believe?"

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Cade pulls out his kukri and scrapes it across the top of the altar, "This altar was recently used. There's dried blood still on it, but it looks similar to the gnolls we just fought."

Religion DC15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Religion DC20: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Perception DC18: 1d20 + 10 + 1d6 ⇒ (20) + 10 + (5) = 35

Tin scowls as he surveys the interior of the cave.

"Man, this reminds me of a couple flats I investigated this one time in Absalom..."

Sniffing the air, Tin moves a little closer to the altar before he leads down and squints at it.

"Hello? What do we has here?"

Tin rubs the greenish blood with his thumb before looking closer at it.

"Seems like someone's been cuttin' corners when it comes to cleanin' up their sacrifices."

Tin juts his chin at the items.

"So what's the deal with those? Somethin' to help them with their freakish cult rituals?"

Old Iron grumbles to himself as the group find the cave devoid of any inhabitants at the moment.

He finds a rock that can approximate a seat well enough and sits down, the cracking of his back making him slow down.

He gives a few half-hearted glances about, trusting Tin to find anything of interest, since this is his expertise after all.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

knowledge religion: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
perception (deaf): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Necress quietly examines the altar, the pictographs, and all the items in the room.

When she speaks, she does so clearly, perhaps as if she had spoken throughout her life and only recently lost her hearing.

"This is an altar dedicated to madness...to the Outer God Azathoth. Or so the dead whisper to me."

spellcraft: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

After examining the equipment and scrolls in the room with the aid of magic, she says "This could all prove of much use." See spoiler for what we found. I use a sling and would take the bullets unless someone wants them. I could also take the scroll of speak with plants if no one else want it.

I'm 95% certain they are firearm bullets since they are not specified as sling bullets and because we are near Alkenstar, which is known for its firearms.

After spending some time looking around the cave, you recognize that it is time to move on to your destination: Mercy.

The town of Mercy rests a mile south of the banks of the Ustradi River. A wooden palisade encircles a collection of its approximately one hundred wooden buildings. Hardy trees laden with red and yellow fruit dot the surrounding landscape. The road leads to a wide gate, which bears a prominent sign with orange-painted letters.

You arrive about an hour before sunset passing through fields of cashew trees. A sign attached to the gate reads Mercy does not allow dishonesty, firearms, or large weapons within town limits. Respect the curfew.

As you approach, a broad-shouldered man with dark skin and a straw hat opens the gate. He greets you, "Welcome to Mercy. I'm Sheriff Molume, and I keep the peace around here. As you can see from the sign, we don't allow people to walk around with large weapons around here. Before I let you inside, I need to ask you to hand them over."

"Of course." Jiro remarks, dismounting from Honor. He bows deeply to the Sheriff before unhooking his katana and presenting it to the man. "My name is Jiro and finding an oasis such as yours in the middle of the Mana Wastes is quite fortunate. How are the cashews? I have to admit that they are a guilty pleasure of mine." says the Pathfinder.

Tin fluffs his collar a bit before presenting his spear and shortbow.

"Not a problem, sheriff."

Tin wastes no time popping open his wayfinder "badge".

"Tin Futola. Detective. Pathfinder Society."

Snapping it shut - yet after presenting it for a reasonable moment, he returns it to his duster's pocket.

He cuts right to the chase.

"I'm hoping you can help us now, one lawman to another. We're looking for one of our own, a fellow investigator. Goes by Amenira. Osiriani."

Tin's also going to size this sheriff up. He a good lawman? Can he be trusted? Does he seem lax in his duties?

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 6 + (1) = 11

Yay for rolling 4, and 1 on the inspiration kicker.

Sheriff, you allow no weapons whatsoever, or just no large weapons as you have stated. My daggers aren't large, she says with a comical bat of her eyelashes.

diplo: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Old Iron walks up to the sheriff. He nods towards his lucerne hammer.

Then the earthbreaker.
Then the shortbow.
Then the katana.

He finally takes a deep breath and rests his polearm on his shoulder. He chews over a thought for longer than he needed.

"Define 'big.'"

dang...wanted those bullets!

Necress leaves a longspear with the sheriff, but maintains hold of a bone club.

"My cane..." she says.

Sheriff, you allow no weapons whatsoever, or just no large weapons as you have stated. My daggers aren't large, she says with a comical bat of her eyelashes.

"Oh, that'll be fine. Just the big ones that we're worried about. Can't very well get by without a knife, can you?"

Light melee weapons and quarterstaves are fine but anything else needs to be locked up. I would say a club is ok too.

"I'm hoping you can help us now, one lawman to another. We're looking for one of our own, a fellow investigator. Goes by Amenira. Osiriani."

The sheriff nods his head. "Of course. She lives in the orange house on the west side of town. She's been hanging around mercy for about a yar now. Every month, she goes into Alkenstar to send letters to her family. She's not a proper one of us, but she's nice enough, and follows the rules, so we don't mind her sticking around. She makes good toys for the children. Or at least, she used to. She's been in Alkenstar a mighty long time. I would've thought she'd be back by now. Maybe she decided to go back o the city life, but it's awfully rude of her not to at least stop by and say goodbye first."

All of Cade's weapons are "small" :)

Cade will move with the rest of the party nonchalantly.

"How are the cashews? I have to admit that they are a guilty pleasure of mine."

"Are the fruits on the trees we saw edible as well?"

Old Iron grumbles.

"Well, s&*$."

Old Iron begins collecting his weapons from his person, but he hesitates before handing them over.

"Anything starts to go down, I might need those back real fast. Where you gonna keep them?"

Anybody have a spare light weapon to share? Hehe....

"What are your rules on my longbow, sir?" Jiro asks inquisitively. "If you'd like, I could just leave it unstrung." he remarks, intending to use it as a quarterstaff should the need arise.

As they move towards the location where the weapons are to be stored, Jiro follows up on Tin's question. "We have reason to believe that she might be missing and not merely left your quite hospitable town without a goodbye. Would you allow us to investigate her home for any clues as to her whereabouts?" he asks.

Tin, ever blunt, continues to get straight to the point, particularly in the presence of Mercy's senior-most lawman.

"Man, we just came down from Alkenstar and we ain't seen her up there."

Tin pauses, keeping his piercing eyes trained on Sheriff Molume. He then begins to speak matter-of-factly, like he's sharing a story about something as mundane as a mix-up at the local market.

"So we on our way down... and we get jumped by a bunch o' them dogheads."

Tin juts a thumb at Necress.

"Necress here's somethin' of a specialist when it comes to weird religion stuff and she identified their altar as belongin' to Azathoth."

Tin looks at the sheriff again, leaning in real close.

"That ring any bells, sheriff? You wanna clue us in on what mighta' nabbed our girl?"

Always carry a dagger! Or two! What if you get swallowed? You need something to cut your way out.

The Sheriff indicates the storage nearby and allows you place your own weapons within. "They won't be going anywhere. The bows will have to go in there too." He scratches his chin. "And I wouldn't go eating the cashews without permission. I'm sure you can find plenty for sale in town though."

"We have reason to believe that she might be missing and not merely left your quite hospitable town without a goodbye. Would you allow us to investigate her home for any clues as to her whereabouts?" he asks.

The sheriff eyes you suspiciously for a moment but eventually answers, "Well, she's been gone for about two months though. I didn't realize anything serious was going on, of course. Try not to break the rules-I'd rather not have to kick you out of town-but otherwise you are free to do as you like."

"Necress here's somethin' of a specialist when it comes to weird religion stuff and she identified their altar as belongin' to Azathoth."

Tin looks at the sheriff again, leaning in real close.

"That ring any bells, sheriff? You wanna clue us in on what mighta' nabbed our girl?"

Sheriff Molume shakes his head slowly and frowns. "No, that doesn't ring any bells at all. Here we worship Robori, the God of Trees. He grows at the center of the village and protects the town with his blessed Circle of Life. You can speak with the priests if you would like to convert or ask them about this other altar. Maybe they would know."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (16) + 6 + (6) = 28

Tin keeps his eyes set on the sheriff.

"Robori, eh?"

I don't know Robori... is the tree deity legit?

Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Tin has never heard of Robori but, then again, it seems to be a (very) local deity that wouldn't be included in any literature about Golarion's religions.

Old Iron hands over his weapons.

"Well, lets get this show on the road, boys and girls. Might be fun."

@GM Ah, yes! Old Iron would like to buy a dagger and/or club in town if he can

Is worshiping Mr. Robori just like worshiping Mr. Roboto?

When the party is out of range of the Sheriff, "Perhaps we should start with the priests of Robori. In Amenira's letter, she mentioned that "the local priests are still not totally cooperative" and viewed her as an outsider. Perhaps they took action on their fears?"

I am a knife master...so I have like a billion :)

Jasmine will hand Old Iron a spate dagger.

Necress also hands Iron Tyr an extra bone club that she had.

"The priests might have some information, even if they are not hostile," the oracle agrees.

Tin looks the local lawman up and down a final time.

"A'ight. We'll follow up on them priests. Thanks for the heads up, sheriff. We'll do our best to keep you updated if we scare up any roaches we find hiding under rocks."

Tin fluffs his studded jacket and begins to head towards the center of the village to speak to the "tree priests".

As they create some distance from the sheriff, Tin shares his thoughts.

"So, I dunno 'bout you guys, but I've got my suspicions about these tree-huggers. And from what I could tell, the sheriff ain't got no particular love for them either..."

Tin sticks his left hand into his jacket where his lithe fingers quickly find welcome in a brassy home.

Equipping brass knuckles, yet keeping his hand in his pocket.

The temple is the largest building in Mercy. Wooden pews line the east and west side of the building, with a garden on the wouth. An enormous, twisted tree takes up the north side of the building. A pleasant walkway snakes around the tree up to the temple opening, which has no door. Animals made of twisted twigs adorn the branches, and vanilla orchids flourish in the shade.

Necress enters the temple complex and looks at the enormous tree.

Making their way in, she looks for someone to speak to.

@Jasmine and Necress Thank you for the loaners! Sorry for not being prepared well enough >_<

Old Iron follows behind Tin, trusting the investigator to know how to handle this type of thing. Old Iron keeps shuffling his hands about, as he appears to not precisely know what to do with them without his hammer.

"Soooo...how do we go about doing this kinda thing, Tin? Do we need to go shake down some people? I've done a few jobs like that in Corentyn...."

He looks up and off to the side, scratching his facial scar.

"In Absalom a few times, too, now that I think about it. Damn boring. People just cry at ya."

"I don't know. The sheriff seems well enough." Jiro remarks at Tin's odd suspicion. "How can you think they are suspicious when you haven't even met them?" he asks of the former lawman.

---

Jiro will stride boldly into the temple. "Hello?" he calls out, trying to find one of the local priests.

There are several priests milling about and one of them-a middle aged man with light brown hair-approaches. "Welcome. You are clearly from out-of-town so let me offer a blessing upon you: Wood of the tree speaks a whisper to thee. The sun rises soon. To you, a boon. Such is the will of Robori. Now is there anything else I can do for you or are you merely interested in our god in-tree-nate?"

"Actually, I am quite intrigued by your most deciduous of gods, but I was sent to investigate the disappearance of a woman named Amenira." Jiro says, clearly pleased to be blessed by a god.

"Have you seen or heard from her?" the man says as he examines the godtree, never having seen a holy tree before.

Cade follows Jiro's conversation, but keeps a keen eye on the rest of the crowd to see if anyone reacts suspiciously.

Tin's eyes narrow as he keeps them trained on the helpful man with the light brown hair, giving his companions a chance to interact while he patiently observes for them to slip up or ignite the kindling of his suspicions.

For when they reply about Jiro's inquiry on Amenira's whereabouts.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (13) + 6 + (6) = 25

In case that's treated as an assist to Tin...

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15

"Please," Necress says. "Assist us in finding this Amenira woman, if you have any information."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

The man shakes his head. "Oh, I haven't seen her for a couple months, at least. I did not know that she had gone missing-she goes to Alkenstar from time to time, you know. I am sorry, but I know nothing about any disappearances." You are quite certain that the man had no idea she was considered missing.

"Many thanks. Since you know of her, perhaps you might recall anyone she might have offended or wished her ill?" Cade asks.

Tin jumps in, feeling the man has been honest this far.

"Yea, or even any friends of hers. Anyone who might have more details on what's been going on with Amenira?"

Old Iron nods as his companions question the priest.

"Anything strange at all been going on lately? We fought some mutated gnolls on the way here."

Old Iron scrunches up his face in thought as he suddenly remembers he is talking to someone that worships a tree.

"Or is that normal around here? Not really sure what your baseline is for determining strangeness."

The priest shakes his head. "She was friendly with everyone in town and I don't think anyone particularly disliked her, as far as I know. She kept to herself in a painted house on the edge of town and peddled her toys to the local families."

The priest doesn't look overly surprised about the report of gnolls either. "Aye, I haven't encountered such things but out here in the Wastes that doesn't sound too unusual. You're safe in Mercy though! But be careful if you venture out of the town."