GM Erich's The Many Fortunes of Grandmaster Torch - Outpost 2018 (Inactive)

Game Master Thereus, Silver Crusader

This is the thread for gameplay.

“Welcome to glorious Sedeq, Pathfinders. I trust your stay has been pleasant so far.” The speaker is a strikingly beautiful woman, slender and dark, dressed in the most modern Qadiran fashions. Her study is opulently appointed and seems to have mementos and trophies of past adventures covering every available surface. She favors you and your comrades with a slight half-smile and continues in her thick Qadiran accent: “I am Venture-Captain Yasmin Kal’al—I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”

Looking around at the valuable trophies and mementos, Khouri is suitably impressed. In his world, the more outward signs of opulence and success one displayed, the more impressive they must be.

He bowed low and introduced himself in the dwarven style: "Khouri Saltbeard, at your service. The Master of the First Vault smiles at oru meeting which, with his guidance, shall be profitable for us all!"

The dwarf is dressed in half-plate with a large steel shield on his back. His weapon of choice is dwarven waraxe which is hung at this side.An ornate golden key hangs from a filigree necklace. The dwarf takes his surname from the dark beard, which is braided and oiled for the occasion, and which is flecked heavily with spots of white. His head is shaved bald which glistens in the heat of Qadira.

You see a knight wearing an eye-patch riding, for the lack of a better word, a giant sea turtle. The knight sports a well-balanced lance and an assortment of daggers strapped in a bandoleer, which rests next to a shiny amulet atop a gleaming fullplate adorned with golden seagulls. A beautifully sculpted darkwood shield is also adorned with a painted large golden seagull shown in full flight. After dismounting, and carefully leading his mount towards the most competent stable boy he can find, Raynor enters the building and approaches the group for introductions.

"Captain Cordite at your service! First name Raynor for friends of the Society. And down there in the street is Phranklin, my loyal seagoing steed. We heard that you require assistance with an urgent matter, dear Venture-Captain, and we're here to give you any help I can give, if you'll have us."

Phranklin nods, and squeals excitedly, somewhere in the street below, as you can hear through the opened window in the study.

"My vessel, The Fearsome Tide, is moored in the harbor, and my crew is on a 4-hour notice to sail, if your task requires naval support."

Out in the street, Phranklin politely bows his head to any onlooker approaching, and slowly follows the stable boy to his paddock. He obliges any children wishing to pet him or talk to him.

A halfling int he room scans faces of the speakers with her eyes, and waits her turn. The backs of her hands and arms are covered in scars, and her belt stores multiple different weapons - including a rapier, an axe, a sling, and a buckler. She has a bow on her back and an empty quiver tier to her outer thigh. Her chainshirt occasionally reflects the light from the Qadiran sun as she moves - mithral. She drops her backpack on the floor and wipes off droplets of sweat from under her ash blonde hair.

"Wow! You have your own ship?", she seems flabbergasted. "Um - I'm Nergi." - she waves at everyone in the room with a wide smile on her face. "Hello!"

So many divine martials. Hah!

"Well me Nergi! honored to make your acquaintance!" says Raynor, politely shaking the halfling female's hands. With a lower tone to be discreet, Raynor asks, looking at her scars "are you still in pain? do you require assistance?"

The halfling looks at Raynor with a confused look. "Pain? What?", she looks at her scars and it hits her. She smiles back. "Oh! No, these are old wounds. My little witnesses of penance. Sort of. Don't worry about those."

A well dressed, and impeccably groomed dwarf hurries into the room, slightly out of breath, and scowls when he sees all the others who beat him there.

The frown quickly disappears, and is replaced by a smile, before he pushes his way past the others, to present himself to the Venture-Captain, bowing deeply.

"It is a pleasure, and an honor, to finally make your acquaintance." He says ingratiatingly. "I have heard so many wonderful things about the job you've been doing here, I could not but leap at the opportunity to see your operation in person!"

"Baron Smarmy." He adds, by way of introduction, bowing low once more. "Late of Kravenkus, but her now, in glorious Sedeq, to do whatever it is you need done."

All his attention seems to be focused on Yasmin, and he ignores the other Pathfinders entirely.

A young Taldan man dressed in white and blue robe walks in to the room. Though most of his gear is quite plain, one cannot help but notice the quality and craftsmanship of the longbow strapped to his back. He bows to the gathered Pathfinders. "I apologize for my tardiness. I was just told to come here moments ago. I am called Bo Goh Twang, and I would like to join you." With little more fanfare, he pours himself some tea and sits at the briefing table.

Unless otherwise noted, I am wearing my Swarmbane Clasp, using my Feral Hunter ability for Evasion and am maintaining Snake Style. )Benefit: You gain a +2 bonus on Sense Motive checks, and you can deal piercing damage with your unarmed strikes. While using the Snake Style feat, when an opponent targets you with a melee or ranged attack, you can spend an immediate action to make a Sense Motive check. You can use the result as your AC or touch AC against that attack. You must be aware of the attack and not flat-footed).

Game has officially started, hurrah! If we can average a post or two day, we will do fine.

The venture captain notes each introduction and nods politely to everyone assembled. “Very well, then. I am here as you are, by request of honored Venture-Captain Adril Hestram. I have been asked to brief you on the local situation as regards the Osirian artifacts."

She moves gracefully around a large table and takes a seat offering you the same with an exaggerated flourish of her arm. "As you should know, the smuggler Matzal Chaim moved four statues out of Sothis into Qadira. The statues are supposed to be quite valuable and had been confiscated by the Osirian authorities for study. We are not sure how Chaim got access to the statues in the first place—he likely had accomplices inside the Osirian Cultural Ministry. She pauses for dramatic effect.

"At any rate, Chaim brought the statues here. Sedeq is his permanent headquarters, though he spends most of his time traveling abroad. When he is in town, he spends the lion’s share of his time on the Qalli. While most of the city is given over to the human-chattel trade, the Qalli Spice Market is almost as lucrative as the rest of the city combined. Much of the money seen in Sedeq begins and ends in its stalls and processing plants. The saffron trade alone—” she brings herself up short.

“But never mind, this is not of relevance to you. Chaim spends a good deal of his time at the Topaz Pavilion bathhouse. We believe that he uses it as a point of contact with his various associates. Once you find Chaim, you will have to convince him to tell you who he sold the statues to—yes, they are no longer in his hands, we are sure of that. Time is of the essence—if Chaim’s buyer sells to others, the artifacts may quickly move beyond our grasp.”

Overview map on the front page of the handout.

"Find the man, talk to the man, find the statues."

Feeling there is no more to be had, the young monk stands up wordlessly as if the briefing was over. Bo enjoyed these more direct missions. Ones without confusing layers or problems. He felt is journey on 'The Path' should be direct, and he appreciated when the tasks given to him were similarly straightforward. The fact that others may have questions does not occur to him in the least. Ensuring his gear is in place, he looks to the others to see if they are ready to get started. Then, in the deep recesses of his meager intelligence, a thought blossoms.

"Statues may mean golems." The monk deftly switches the clasps on his cloak.

Swapping Swarmbane Clasp for Golembane Scarab.

Smarmy sits near the Venture-Captain, his attention focused on her every word, nodding in agreement with pretty much all of it.

"Of course!" He exclaims. "You need only ask! This miscreant will divulge his secrets, and I... er... we... will find your statues!" He barely conceals a frown at his fellow Pathfinders.

"I have ears and eyes in many places." He adds.

"What do we know about these statues?" asks Khouri. "Are they religious in nature? Do they have extrinsic value? Are they large or small?"

"I have only one set of eyes and ears," the dwarf says with a wry smile at his cousin. "But it may be that someone in the town knows more of the whereabouts of this Chaim or the property we seek. I will help you ask about."

Diplomacy, Gather Info: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Know Religion, for anything about statues?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

When the Pathfinders start to exit the briefing room, Raynor asks, "Venture-Captain Kal’al, a word in private please? if you would be so kind."

She points those interested to a map, and quickly highlights the location of both the Spice Market and the Bathhouse. "You should find him somewhere here or here. Should you need to find other places in town, you know where I am."

Yasmin leans slightly in her chair to address Khouri.

"As for the statues themselves. Well, I suppose they were small enough to be smuggled easily, so that limit's their size." She makes a transitional gesture from two fingers (inches apart) to two arms wide apart and punctuates that with a knowing smirk. "It is quite possible they have significance, religious or otherwise. And I haven't found a piece of Osiriani antiquity that didn't have a value to someone, somewhere. The very fact these were smuggled in, and now traded indicates their potential worth. And by now you should know, Osiriani items can be at least as ... interesting ... as the people who carry them."

She, of course, entertains Raynor's request for a private meeting.

Smarmy gives Raynor's back a brief glare, as the paladin requests, and is granted, a private audience with the Venture-Captain.

"I will check with my contacts, see what I can learn." He grouches, before forcing a smile back on his face.

"I'm sure, working together, we will solve this problem in no time!"

Gather Info (re: nefarious individual): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

The halfling looks at people who speak. Most of the time, anyway, and makes mental notes of the assignment. "What do we know about this Chaim person? Any prominent accomplices? What makes him tick? Should we go poke around the Ministry as well?", she asks curiously after briefly eyeing Bo Goh Twang.

The venture-captain gives a rough sketch of Chaim's face to get you started and shows you to the door. "Very well, good luck Pathfinders. Come to me if you need any additional aid."

If anyone needed to make any purchases, consider that done.

The group hits the streets and asks around for information on their quarry and some other locations that have surfaced.

Queries regarding the Secure Market are met with a mixture of trepidation and silence. The best you can gather is that it is a location suited for individuals who wish not only discretion but also assurance of fair trade. Thus no arms or magic can be utilized there. As for it's exact location, no one (on the street, at least) is forthcoming.

Chaim, on the other hand, is a known commodity, a well known rogue , well connected and mostly well-liked. Even without resorting to showing his sketch or passing coin, you are able to deduce that his current location is indeed at the Topaz Pavilion Bathhouse.

The bathhouse is easy enough to find, being located prominently on the corner of Candlewood Street and Shackle Street, a scant block from the ramp down to the Central Market. Just as your group arrives, you see a man who clearly matches the description of Chaim exiting through the front doors with a satisfied yawn. For the briefest of moments he notices your odd little group, wheels turn in his head, his eyes widen, and he quickly flees back into the bathhouse.

A recent mantra enters the monk's head unbidden. Find the man, talk to the man, find the statues. With little other than that, Bo sprints forward in pursuit.

Double move if possible = 100'
Bo is not one of the deeper thinkers.

Is it bad that this is not my first... nor second... bathhouse chase?

Smarmy frowns, as their quarry spots them, and immediately flees. He throws an accusing glance at the others, but quickly covers it up with a concerned frown.

He moves to follow, doing his best to look like he's trying to keep up... if not for his short dwarven legs.

He'll let the others take the lead, content to just pretend to be trying, while keeping an eye open.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Nergi sighs. "Why do they always run?", and gives chase. She seems fairly fast for her small stature, and attempts to jump over or dodge obstacles in the way.

Alas, no chase mechanics in Season 0!

After chasing Chaim through what must have been half the rooms in the bathhouse, jumping pools and slipping across slick tile, the body of Chaim lies on the floor of a steamy room, a bloody gash where his adam’s apple used to be.

An exasperated voice from further in the room exclaims,“’Think,’ I said, ‘before you stab.’” The steam separates, revealing two sweaty half-orcs in heavy armor, one looking abashed with a bloody kukri in his hand.

A man sprawls luxuriantly in a small steaming pool in the center of the room. His visible skin is covered with horrible scars as if from badly healed burns.

Behold Grandmaster Torch, a notorious information broker who has helped the Pathfinder Society in the past—but always for a steep price.

"Don't just stand there, get some towels. I'm certainly not going to clean this up." He continues to berate the sullen half-orc, perhaps not noticing (or even caring about) your presence at the doorway.

Looking at the corpse with blood pooling around it, Khouri shrugs. "I guess we will get little information from him now, unless one o you can speak with the dead. Not sure if we have any other leads at this point or not."

Noting your arrival with a wry smile, the Grandmaster rises from the tub (soap clinging mercifully to all the right spots) as the other half-orc quickly retrieves a large woolen towel and surrounds the scarred man with it.

“Please forgive the mess—my bodyguard was a bit … overzealous in guarding my privacy. I recognize Pathfinders when I see them, though, and I’m always happy to be of service to the Society.”

Patting himself off through the towel, Torch steps brashly out of the tub and approaches, discerning each of you with quick, sharp glances.

“Yes, whatever you wanted him for, I’m afraid he won’t be able to provide it now. But if it was just information you were looking for, well, I’ve got all kinds in stock.” he says through a smug laugh.

"Grandmaster Torch, it is an honor Sir. Huh- my name is Captain Raynor Cordite, and when not patrolling the coast of Taldor for pirates or bringing troops to Mendez through the Sellen, I offer my services to the Society. This time, we're looking for four statues moved out of Sothis into Qadira by a smuggler named Matzal Chaim. Our intelligence has it that Chaim has already offloaded the statues. Anything you could do to help would be greatly appreciated. There's also the matter of the Secure Markets, which Ms. Khalka here and I have been asked to locate and engage in trade with. Anything in that regard you'd know Sir, we'd be thankful for."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

Raynor stumbles over his words a few time and gets red in the face at the Grandmaster's... nekkidness... :P

Bo sees the body. The mantra once again echos through his head.

Find the man. TALK to the man. Find the statues.

Seeing the life pump out of Chaim on to the floor, the monk calls on his spiritual mentor to hold the essence of the man's soul within his body until greater healing can be found.

I don't suppose casting Stabilize will make a difference, but it was worth a try.

"If you don't know who bought them, maybe you can tell us who on the inside helped him plan the theft. They too can give us what we need."

The barely concealed look of contempt Smarmy throws at Raynor's back, is only eclipsed by the fawning look he sends towards Grandmaster Torch.

As an aspiring information broker in his own right, he knew well of Torch's influence and reach... to actually run into the man was a fantastic opportunity. One he fully intended to take advantage of... if his fellow Pathfinders didn't mess it up before he got the chance.

"Pardon my compatriots." He says, bowing deeply. "If I had known you were here, in Sedeq, I would have sought an audience before now! Baron Smarmy, of Taldor, and of late, affiliated with the Society, as you have already cleverly surmised!"

"As this... person..." He pokes the body of Chaim where it lies on the floor, with one boot. "Has so rudely decide to become unhelpful... through no fault of yours, of course... we do find ourselves suddenly without direction."

"But I have no doubt you could provide what he no longer can!" He smiles ingratiatingly, and bows again. "For suitable compensation, of course!"

Following the tenets of Abadar, that the price must be paid for all things of value, Khouri cringes a bit knowing that Torch has a reputation for extorting high prices for his services. If Raynor is asking for aid, the Society better be ready for the cost.

He turns an eye on Smarmy, wondering where he is taking this discussion.

Hell if I know! =)

Nergi doesn't seem to be paying attention to the discussion. Instead, she checks Chaim's wound, and assuming he is actually dead, wraps a nearby towel around his neck. She looks at the bodyguards when she is done. "Did you really just kill a man for simply running past you? What if it was a kid?", she seems upset. "You know what.. It doesn't matter who it was. It's still a terrible thing to do, regardless."

She looks at the man in the bath, and comes a few steps closer, wishing to speak her mind. She notices the Pathfinders in the middle of a conversation with this person, and stops on the spot. She starts looking at the speakers.

"Ah, the statues. Yes, they have been the talk of the underground for some time now." Torch saunters over to a table and enjoys a fresh date. He turns back and motions to the dead man on the floor.

"I suppose this is your man, Chaim, then?

"Puts you in a precarious position, I must say." He pops another date. "One that I am quite prepared to help you out with. I know each of the buyer's identities. The locals would call it...kismet."

Without acknowledging Nergi's admonishments, the two half-orcs wrap Chaim's body in a series of towels and drag him unceremoniously from the room.

Frowning slightly at the untoward sight, Torch turns back to you, and through half-chewed date says "But I am more practical. I call it... worth 3,000 pieces of gold to you." His eyes widen to punctuate his steep proposal.

Frowning with anger, Raynor says, "What trickery is this? who are you? why are you impersonating Grandmaster Torch?"

Auto-succeed on the Sense Motive

Completely oblivious to the shakedown, the monk mistakes Torch's words as something else altogether. "3,000 gold...to us? It is generous of you to offer for you to pay us such a sum in compensation for this innocent man's death. Maybe you should be paying his family instead. I am certain the authorities would take that into consideration."

The halfling keeps looking back and forth as the debate unravels. With a confused expression and all that. She intuitively checks the straps on her buckler with her right hand without laying her eyes on the equipment.

Ah, the steam in here has clouded my words. No, the 3,000 gold is what you would pay me." Torch thumbs through the remaining dates in the bowl. "That should be manageable for agents of your...stature, no?"

The drip of water in the tub echoes in the hall.

"I see. Perhaps that is a little --steep-- of a price. But no one has ever claimed I am not a reasonable man. Instead of a pile of gold, maybe there is something more valuable to me at this time. Instead of emptying your pockets, how about this. I'll hand over the buyer's names to you in exchange for a to-be-determined future favor from... the Pathfinder Society." His eyebrow subconsciously raises as he awaits your response.

"That sounds more reasonable, and more in keeping with your reputation of always helping agents in the field. It would be my pleasure to help you in the future Grandmaster Torch. I will not forget your assistance on this day, and shall in fact make an honorable mention of your help when I file my report after this."

"We can't speak on behalf of the Society, Raynor.", Nergi intercepts.

"We represent the Society here at the moment, yes. But we do not have the kind of power to arrange the deal you are proposing. We are mostly agents, sure. Sometimes soldies, of course. We can speak on behalf of ourselves, yes. Not the entire organisation. If that is what you had in mind."

"The Society has entrusted us with decisional powers in the field, Ms. Khalka. Let the barristers in Absalom decide whether the success of this mission was worth the Grandmaster's price of admission. My word is my bond: I'll take full responsibility."

The Grandmaster's smile widens, straining against the rigidity of his facial scars. "So is there a distinction between the goals and machinations of the Society and those of its agents? What an interesting dichotomy, if true. But that is talk for another day. Let's get that information to you. I assume of course, you each make the personal vow to aid me that the Seagull Knight here so quickly pledged."

"To have my word, I would like the names of who ever in the Ministry helped Chaim plan the theft so this kind of thing can't happen again. As you may have heard, Pathfinders look after their own."

This is said with a straight face as Bo has NO IDEA of Torch's past.

"If the group elects to make me leader, you will not need their vow, as they will be under my orders. If the group would rather keep operating as a council, we will need a vote now."

Raynor looks at the group, to see if they wish plausible deniability through him or wish to carry the burden of their choices.

Nergi remains adamant in her decision.

"I will not promise to do a 'to-be-determined future favour'. Especially not to a person who failed to do as much as flinch when his brutes sliced open a man's neck for merely running past his bath. That's simply a conflict of my actions and my conscience waiting to happen."

Torch looks down his nose at the halfling. "A reasonable position, perhaps. If you had seen the dangers I have, you might be over-cautious, too. Besides, I will reprimand my guard strongly, of course, up to and including his dismissal. I've had my eye on another brutish fellow out of Lastwall, what was his name? Zurngal? Sherzal?"

The half-orcs at the wall shrug.

As the group considers their pledge to Torch (or just the deniability umbrella of Raynor's leadership), the Grandmaster ambles over toward the archer.

"Ah, a man of my own ilk. Sweetening the pot. Always a valuable tool."

Torch considers.

I'll take a separate diplomacy check from Raynor and Bo

The look Smarmy gives Raynor would wither paint, though he makes sure the paladin is looking the other way, when he delivers it. It was clear to him that the paladin was a hypocrite of the highest order, given the body that was just dragged out, and should not be trusted, much less allowed to speak for him. Not that the dwarf trusted anyone, of course. He wasn't sure what the man was trying to accomplish licking Torch's boots so studiously, he had already spilled every card they had, before any sort of negotiation could happen... so they no longer had anything else to barter with.

"Though I'm sure my august companion here means well, I fear I must speak for myself in all things... a person can do little else at times." He says, the smile on his face forced.

He bows to Torch again. "But, favors for favors is a time honored tradition. Nothing in life is free, including information."

"Why, something as simple as a forgetful memory, should someone ask the wrong question, could be more valuable then coins." He adds, with a cheerful smile. Though he does not glance at the trail of blood where the body was just dragged off, it is not a huge leap to assume he's referring to the man Torch just killed for just running by. "The world is full of unscrupulous sorts not worth such efforts on."

"But, as you note, by pure happenstance, we find the only other source for what we need no longer available. So if we wish to garner this information, you would appear to have the upper hand!"

He gives torch a respectful nod, admiring the man's treacherous move, not believing it an accident for a second. "Tit for tat, as it were. The least I can do is offer some other small favor in return."

"And perhaps in the future, you will return even those." He adds, with a veiled nod. "Once this business is all done, I would love to chat further."

Hmm... might be able to use him for a faction card thing later =)

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28 if needed

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

The paladin wholeheartedly ignores the dwarf's grimaces and continues, "Seems like we have two votes in favor of a deal with Grandmaster Torch, one against and one undecided from Bo. Master Saltbeard has yet to pronounce himself."

Slightly confused "There is no 'indecision' here Raynor. It would seem that by asking for, and tallying, an uncalled for vote, you have tried to already place yourself in charge, so even if you lose you still have taken control. I don't think that is how it works." The monk looks back toward Torch, "I have told you what I would like."

Dip-LOW: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (17) - 2 = 15

Khouri listens to the back and forth, wondering if part of Torch's plnas is the seeds of discontent he has already sown?

"I agree with my cousin. There is nothing for free. The Grandmaster holds information that is valuable. information we need to complete our mission, which could endanger many. He is aksing for something of value which is hard to ascertain. A future favor may be more or less valuable than the information we seek, but that is how the market works, Abadar be praised! While I find it a bit distasteful, I feel compelled to accept the offer, and the necessary information, so we can complete our mission. Whatever the future favor is, we will have to pay the price sometime." He nods his agreement with the paladin and hopes that the halfling will understand and agree with the rationale.

"Are we all in agreement to receive Grandmaster Torch's information in exchange for a future favor then? Bo, Nergi: what will it be?"