No one else wants to chime in?
"There are worse things than death, friend, and there is much to say for having a healthy dose of caution. If the priest gives you grief, let me know and the council will deal with it, but don't go looking for trouble."
Turning to Dolgrin, "I'd hate to see you run out of town, Milbourne is full of mostly sensible folk, but if you do have business elsewhere, making yourselves scarce for a bit couldn't hurt."
"It's a bit early in the season for there to be much barge traffic, so you might have a bit of a wait. If you're headed to Thurmaster, the track is in good repair and as safe as anywhere these days."
"Welp, that's probably enough time for the crowd to have dispersed, if you'd like to be back about your business."
|Lichen the Wanderer|
Zask looks back and forth between the carpenter and his friends,
"What brings you to stay in this town? You 'ave an eye for the arcane as well as some prowess in war it seems. Are you here to protect this town from something more sinister?"
The diabolist tips the nod toward Garyld, acknowledgment of both his candour and proffering of caution.
At Zask's words Vhaezil narrows his eyes in scrutiny of the monk's line of questioning;
Not everything is based on nefarious threats Master Quickhand... Some places are just mires that throws up the odd piece of treasure...
Permitted to use a perception check to see if Zask notices Vhaezil's disapproving squint?
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
"If you've got somethin' to say go ahead and voice it, you've never been shy to voice your opinion 'fore.
Garyld laughs, "Hardly an eye for the arcane. Your friend openly displays a pentagram sigil of Hell. There are few that wouldn't recognize it as such. I won't say that I approve, but I believe in punishing a man for what he's done, not what he might do."
"As for me, I'm nothing special. I've called Haranshire my home for most of my life. I used to prefer a more rustic lifestyle, but these days I enjoy the luxury of sleeping with a roof over my head and so here I am. I'm not guarding against some grand evil. I'm just trying to keep life's petty evils from ruining the place that I hold dear."
"Now unless you folks are in the market for some archery supplies, or perhaps a cozy wicker chair, I won't keep you any longer."
Vhaezil shrugs nonchalantly before replying in his droll tone;
"I merely observed Master Quickhand that you delve behind every curtain of mundane life seeking nefarious foes and adventure like a greedy dwur coverts gold..."
The diabolist nods his head toward Dolgrin;
"No personal slight to you Master Shieldarm, but the tomes a littered with references of dwarven avarice..."
He continues, the impassive angelic face somewhat at odds with the flat words spoken;
"Returning to the point at hand... Weal and woe are constants of our mortal existence. Not everything is guided by higher... or lower powers."
After a brief day dream about lounging in a finely crafted wicker chair Zask's attention returns to the matter at hand,
"Well, thanks for the intervention on our behalf Master Garyld. I'll take my leave and be glad to be out of the presence of your ferocious riding hounds."
.. and with a wink and a bow Zask turns to exit.
Zask looks to Vhaezil quizzically,
"If one is not seeking nefarious foes and impossible challenge then what purpose is there to life? The mundane does not interest me too much.."
Zask mulls over his thoughts briefly,
"..perhaps that's why I have been able to tolerate your particular flavor of magicks AND Master Vheazil if you know of a curtain in which these creatures hide behind, please do show me some time."
Zask slaps his thigh and lets out a belly laugh as he exits the workshop..
"to nefarious foes and adventure!"
Dolgrin ignores Vhaezil's comment and apology well aware dwarves had a penchant to be greedy when it came to coin, but no more so than the other races in his opinion.
"Another day master carpenter we shall sit a discuss one of those wicker chairs over a bit of good tobac and dwarven ale. Never hurts to have a good place to set back and contemplate the day. Until then" Nodding he steps out of the shop back into the street and waits for the others. Laughing quietly at the back and forth between 'good' and 'evil' playing out behind him.
Good to go here, in response to Zask
Rhys leans against the door jam as the others talk with their 'savior', alternating looking out into the street and watching Zask and Vhaezil's chat.
He nods a the carpenter's comment on the condition of the track to Thurmaster, glad he has some more corroboration on the lay of the land between here and their destination..
He waits expectantly for the others to finish...
Vhaezil too makes tracks, pulling his hood close and stepping once more into the delightful streets of Milbourne.
As the other make their exit, Rhys looks up a the sky and opines, "it's late enough that , from what the locals tell me, we won't make Thurmaster before dark. We should stay the night and set off at dawn..."
|Lichen the Wanderer|
Vhaezil eyes the druid;
"You may be Wanderer... Most of us are not. Master Shieldarm is the only one among our number who can see in the dark. Prudence would suggest we stay until the morrow..."
The diabolist then adds in his matter-of-fact tone:
However should the Sacerdos... "priest" come. I will scorch his flesh and very soul."
|Lichen the Wanderer|
Zask looks between Vhaezil and Lichen,
"I have to side with Lichen on this one. Glad to be out of town and spend an evening out in the woods tonight. We may even run into the fabled monsters if we're lucky."
"Master Zask, I'll join you in the early departure but not the desire for fabled monsters, Penelope simply looks too much like a snack to such as them."
Dolgrin can be ready to go shortly, he will need to get repacked and speak with the men at the forge.
working by phone today, sorry for the short post
So split the party? (Which I am fine with.) Also, Dolgrin doesn't really have any reason to go to Thurmaster at all, since he's not a signatory to the delivery contract.
When party starts to make plans to head out, Daryl says, "From here, I think you'll be able to finish your delivery successfully without my aid. I don't like some of the sidelong glances I've been getting around here and I've some business of my own to attend to in Blackburn that I've put off for long enough. So here we part ways. You've been welcome companions on the road and I wish you good fortune in your travels."
I don't know GM-F well enough yet but some of my other would have said that with an evil laugh 'sure go ahead and split the party :)
"Fair travels Daryl, may we meet again." Dolgrin will clasp the large warrior's arm in farewell, before turning back to the others. "In town or out, I'm good, Penelope will always choose her stall no matter the weather. She's lazy, a good animal and companion but always happiest in a warm stall at night with fresh hay."
|Lichen the Wanderer|
Rhys sighs and gazes wistfully back down the street where the inn sits, comfortable and warm.
"Off we go!" he declares in mock enthusiasm, shouldering his pack, and offering with a hand, the opportunity for Lichen to lead the way...
Day: 1d12 ⇒ 3
Night: 1d12 ⇒ 8
Collecting your meager belongings from the inn, you head out of town and onto the wide dirt track that will lead you to Thurmaster. The path wanders away from the river, but eventually turns back to follow it at a distance. The area immediately outside of Milborne is doted with farms and your path is often crossed by locals out about their business. The shadows lengthen, you finder yourselves in wilder territory. Making camp, you settle in for a chilly and damp night. Taking turns at the watch, you pass the night without incident and dawn's grey light finds you once more on the road.
As the morning passes, you move back into more settled lands. A few small farms start to pop up, much more modest than the ones closer to Milborne. Eventually, the wooden walls of a small town rise into view. As you near, you see a great many abandoned houses, now falling into ruin, lying outside the rickety wooden walls surrounding the village. A large gate stands open, flanked by two bored looking militiamen. As you near, one steps forward. "What's your business in Thurmaster?"
|Lichen the Wanderer|
Lichen enjoys the walk through the countryside and is in a pleasant mood. His mood darkens though as the group spots the abandoned houses. What I wonder is to blame for this? he ponders.
He stays in the back saying little when the group reaches the gate.
Dolgrin walks with Penelope towards the rear of the group, watchful but enjoying the sounds of nature surrounding them.
As the abandoned houses become more plentiful a frown creases his face though mostly hidden by his beard.
"We have a delivery for the alchemist" Dolgrin replies to the guard presenting the safe conduct paperwork.
assuming he knows about them here guys
Dolgrin wasn't with us when we signed the contract?
Zask steps up with Dolgrin to support his claim and provides the invoice to the guardsmen,
"The dwarf speaks true, we are here on business of a delivery to the alchemist."
it was mentioned you were to make a delivery before our delay
I misread, thought you were producing the reciept the lil gnome gave it! Apologies!
The guard gives you a nod, "Alright, be about your business then. You'll find him on the far side of of the village." He wave you in and you step through the gate. The town beyond the wall is best described as a more rural version of Milborne.
The village's inn lies just beyond the wall. A muddy track wanders through the village and you can see the peak of small tower rising in the distance.
|Lichen the Wanderer|
Nodding to the guardsman Lichen asks Can you tell us what has happened here that causes some many houses to be abandoned. We passed so many on the road in.
"Oh, those have been abandoned for decades. It was all before my time, but there used to be a lot of trouble with lizard men raiding out of the mire. The Count eventually had these walls built and the outer houses were abandoned for safety. All came to a head nigh on 40 years ago with some big battle that pushed the lizards back into the swamp. It must have been something, because they haven't crawled out of the muck since then."
"Guess no one's found a good reason to rebuild."
"Tis a shame no one has claimed them and rebuilt in 40 years, perhaps that'll change. Thank you gentlemen."
Following Zask, Dolgrin leads Penelope down the road.
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Taking you leave of the gate guards, you head down one of the village's muddy roads in the general direction of the Alchemist's. A neatly maintained, small wooded house adjoins a plain two story, stone tower. Small flower boxes frame the house's windows and the whole thing appears to have been plastered and white-washed, unlike the other houses you've seen in town.
You knock at the door, and after a minute it opens, revealing a short dark-skinned elderly man in clean white robes. He keeps a neatly trimmed white beard and wears a tall, red fez. He peers at your motley crew with suspicion. "I do not know you. What do you want?" He says, his voice tinged with a faint accent.
"Good day, we have been hired to deliver cargo to the Alchemist in Thurmaster. We were directed here and so here we stand."
Zask produces the documentation provided.
"If you are not the Alchemist then we apologise and shall be on our way"
Zask offers a sarcastic half bow.
|Lichen the Wanderer|
The old man snatches the parchment from Zask. He perches a pair of spectacles on his beak-like nose and starts reading. He scowls and mutters, "Idiots, before turning his attention back to you. "A little scruffy for Seven Scales couriers, aren't you? Never mind. I appear to be the man you are looking for. One of you can bring in my package." He turns and heads back inside. "And don't track in the mud with you."
|Lichen the Wanderer|
"The folk here seem honest, wouldn't think there would be two Alchemist's in a small area of the world, and probably much more likely to lie. He seems trust worthy to me."
Insight: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Does it seem like this is the Alchemist?
Zask heaves the chest into the abode, but pays no attention to wiping his feet.
Dolgrin grins to himself as the wanderer and the monk exchange quips between themselves concerning the shop keeper that answered the door they had knocked on. Untying the package from Penelope's pack saddle, he hands it to Zask before leaning up against the porch to puff a bit on his pipe.
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Well you could have asked him his name and compared it to the name on the documentation that you had. Now mind you, I don't expect you as players to remember something I posted months ago, but paizo does have a lovely search thread function.
@Zask: You're confident that this is the man you are looking for.
Zask enters the house. It is mostly one room, with a door leading to what is most likely a small bedroom. Across from you is another door that leads past a kitchen area and out the back of the house.
The room is redolent with the aroma of exotic spices and something pleasant simmers on the hearth. Fanciful rugs cover the floor and as Zasks tracks his muddy boots onto one of them. There is a deep warning meow from an old, scarred tom cat that gazes balefully at Zask from its perch on an ottoman near the fire.
The old man doesn't turn around, but says, "Master monk, it you don't go wipe your feet, I will remove them. I will dry them and scent them with rich oils, fashioning them into a beautiful talisman, so that you may wear them round your neck as a reminder of the folly of disrespecting a man in his own home."
Apologies lads - none of the above updates were showing in my thread tracker - just clocked its been 10 days since I last pitched in :S Indulge my retconning up to speed
Parting of the Ways
As Daryl takes his leave, the diabolist stoically approaches him;
"Fair travels to you Draco. I shall miss the opportunity to indulge in theological sparring, although our Master's Quickhand and Shieldarm will no doubt fill your void."
The diabolist almost teases a smile, but remains impassive as he mutters something under his breath;
"Et lux in tenebris curat accipere"
"Remain in the light and I will caretake the dark"
As the group enter the village, Vhaezil keeps his hood up and hunkers down, with clear intent to draw little attention to himself in another backwater hinterland.
As he hears the exchange between Zask and the old man, Vhaezil sighs and finishes scraping his boots clear of mud.
He then enters after the halfling, announcing his presence;
"Master Eben. Excuse my uncouth companion... We were charged to deliver your wares and merely seek to complete our task and have you validate our promissory for payment."
As the Alchemist begins to scold Zask he freezes in his tracks and slowly back pedals to the entry way keeping an eye on the old scarred tom cat.
After Zask scrubs his feat with a piece of cloth he resumes to follow the Alchemist, being mindful to skirt around the expensive rugs if possible.
Zask almost jumps in surprise as Vhaezil speaks,
"It's been ages since the lad has opened his mouth!"
"Where can I place this parcel?"
The old man points to a table, "You can put it over there."
He turns his attention to Albrekt, "My name is Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad. Idiots and fools call me 'Eben'. I would hope that you aspire to be neither."
Once Zask places down the chest, Ahmed pulls out a small blade and pricks a finger. He traces a pattern of the chest and it opens with a pop. He glances inside briefly before closing it again "Everything appears to be in order. Just let me sign your promissory note and you can be on your way."
He does so with a flourish and hands the document to Albrekt.
(cough)Vhaezil(cough)... Albrekt is bigger and more fangy lol
Vhaezil listens and studies the old alchemist with his usual impassive express;
"Everything is in order I assure you. On your misnomer - our apologies; Eben was the name provided by the Seven Scales broker. Thank you for elucidating the error to us."
The diabolist accepts the document, checking it has been signed satisfactorily before rolling it up into his scroll case.