GM Ladile's TL;DR: A Pathfinder Society Campaign

Game Master Lady Ladile

Show people you are trustworthy, that you were a victim of your own foolishness but that you learned your lesson. Everyone has been a fool one day or another! Especially me! Do small things first, help your neighbours, carry bags for old ladies, help mommies with their chores, help children with their homework, I don't know. You don't need alchemy to do good things. Alchemy is just a tool. What's really important is your heart, and to do the right thing. People around might not forget, but they might forgive. And it will be easier for them to forgive if they see you working to get their trust back

Maria avoids the chatter, simply making a few notes and waiting for her allies to finish.

"I think there is a great deal more information we need before passing judgement upon this gent. That said, as Zith pointed out, the city is managing his case. And if we want to find out what actually happened to provide any actual evidence to resolve the case, we need to find the Div."

Any knowledge checks from reading the book? Maybe related to the ancient markets or the pharaoh?

"I have been to the Boneyard twice," he answers Effie's curiosity. "I believe the yamaraj would find compulsion, if true, an exemplary defense."

Effie's eyebrows go up at Zith's remarks. "Twice?!"

"You're going to have to enlighten me later, Zith. I've no clue what the yamaraj even is. But right now, Maria is right. We need to find the div."

"Speaking of the Boneyard, the only other thing that we have to go on is Mauta's testimony about Pharasma's symbol," Parison chimes in. "Is there a temple or shrine in the city dedicated to the Lady of Graves?"

After Parison's gentle but firm tirade, Sokari sits silent as he processes the priest's words and those of Effie, Hepsubia, and Zithembe.

"I...I don't know, maybe you're right. Your, uh, statuesque friend," he looks at Zithembe, "isn't really wrong...I felt like I didn't have much control over my actions after I'd flipped through the book the first time. But it doesn't really matter, does it? People still got hurt and she's right," a nod at Effie, "that a lot of people aren't going to believe that something else made me do it - or care."

"You said Brother Herhut, right, sir?" The young man considers his options further and then seems to come to a decision. "Okay. I'll do it. I won't be able to practice my craft here for some time...or maybe ever...but maybe I can still make myself useful there, somehow, if they'll let me. Guess I'm not doing myself or anyone else any favors just sitting here and moping anyway, huh?"

For the first time since meeting him a few minutes ago, Sokari actually looks and sounds hopeful.

"Thanks. Whatever's going on, whatever this div is, I hope you can find it and put an end to it! Just...be careful and don't let it dupe you like it duped me, okay?"
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Another post to follow, please stand by~

While Sokari sets about packing up his few remaining belongings all of you take a few more minutes to consider the book you now possess and how to proceed. The book proves frustratingly vague beyond what you've already been able to determine and the question of why the div would've had it - or given it away - seems to be one without an obvious answer.

Alas, there's not really anything else to be learned from the tome. Taking off my GM hat a bit, this section of the investigation is presented more in a 'broad strokes' method rather than a 'fine details' method, if that makes sense.

Still, you have the book and it's possible that Obahar will be able to do something with it when you go to meet with him tomorrow. In the meantime, the late afternoon sun shines in through the nearby window, a reminder that the day is beginning to draw to a close. As you discuss your options, Sokari coughs to get your attention.

"Um, not really meaning to eavesdrop but it's a small shop. You're looking to speak to a Pharasmin priest? Then you'll want to visit the Thrice-Shrouded Necropolis," he explains. "It's the biggest graveyard in the city and there are a lot of little shrines there on the property too. I can give you directions, if you want?"

You recall that Obahar had also mentioned the Thrice-Shrouded Necropolis as a potential lead. The question is whether to purse it now or wait until tomorrow morning.
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You can visit the Necropolis now if you like but there had also been some mention of calling it a night after visiting the alchemy shop and visiting the Necropolis the next morning before your meeting with Obahar. Up to you guys on what you want to do.

Maria perks up, "Oooh, a graveyard at night. An excellent hiding place, most people are superstitious and avoid them. We might just find the div there!"

She makes a note in her margins, visit the Boneyard... but have a way back.

"If everyone else wants to visit now, I will not object," Parison says. "I don't think the div would be there, Maria. Especially if the Necropolis is looked after by Pharasma's clergy."

"A graveyard at night. What could possibly go wrong?" Effie tempts Fate somewhat - but then remembers that Fate is Pharasma's remit.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." she smiles.

Perhaps I haven't given Sarenrae enough thought. Parison has the right of it here. He has been punished by the city, true, but now he must repent for his crimes. It was by his hands that this occurred. Rumble gives Parison and approving nod.

"Leh's do ih then," he says, exhaling deeply and tossing Sledge over his shoulder. "Doubt tha Pharasmins would leh ah bunch o' bones walk in their yard, buh night is tha bes' time fer 'em tah be smashed!"

On their way to the Thrice-Shrouded Necropolis, the Dwarf eventually slows to walk in step with Parison. "Thanks fer wha' ye did. Aye wasn' feelin' righ' abouh tha whole thing, buh thought tha aye was jus' ignorant. Bettah than aye would'ah done ih too!" Torag would have wanted some broken fingers for an alchemist that poisons his customers. Fear keeps the underhanded in line. But the lad clearly wished to better himself and now he has the chance.

"It should be safe if it is tended by the Shepherd's priests," he agrees. "However, if we plan to do anything with risk, it is probably best to wait until our Sun has risen in the morning." He casts his gaze at Parison with the emphasis.

That's 3 in favor of going now and 1 'either way' vote so I'll go ahead and move you guys along a bit.

With the ancient book in hand and the name of the location you seek, you decide to go ahead and visit the Thrice-Shrouded Necropolis now and see what you can turn up. Acting on the directions Sokari gives you it doesn't take you long at all to make the walk and there's still a little bit of daylight left by the time you reach your destination.

Priests of Pharasma, the Lady of Graves, oversee this large graveyard and several small shrines surrounding it. In spite of it being located within a bustling city, the entire graveyard is dimly lit, and sounds are strangely muted here. There’s also an oddly calming aura that hangs about the entire place, tamping down any anxiety or agitation you might have but also any strong feelings of joy. As you step through the gates and look around, a priestess approaches, her hair tinged with grey and her manner grave.

"Greetings. I am Renofre, a servant of Pharasma. Have you come to pray?" she asks. "We will be closing the gates soon but if you wish to pray you still have some time to do so."

"I wish that coming here to give homage to the Lady of Graves was all we were here to do, Sister Renofre," Parison says, addressing the priestess. "We are trying to track down a div that has escaped from a dig site that was recently unearthed in the city. A witness unfortunate enough to encounter it said that it spoke of trying to find a lady who wears the spiral of death, which is the symbol of your goddess."

To show Renofre that his intentions are good, Parison cups his holy symbol of Sarenrae hanging from his neck in his right hand and presents it before letting it drop back against his chest.

"We also say this in order to make you and your fellow priests aware in case the div should come here looking for what it is seeking."

Following suit, Rumble brandishes his own holy symbol of Torag. "Aye, 'tis true. Anythin' strange 'appenin' 'round 'ere or tah yer priests?" he asks. "'ow are yer patrols 'nd duhfenses?"

Maria does not brandish any specific holy symbol, though she does make a note in her journal to purchase one for every major religion... just in case.

Sister Renofre listens intently to Parison and Rumble's explanation, a slight frown creasing her face as she does. "I see. Well, there was some talk of recent sightings of a maniacal disembodied head, strangely enough, near one of the crypts. We sent an acolyte, Manetho, to cleanse the threat, which at first seemed to us to be some sort of minor undead menace based on the description. Manetho told us it went fine and he had handled the threat, but then he began acting very strange and withdrawn. Soon after, we caught him digging up graves, which is profoundly anathema to us, and locked him up to repent of what he had done."

She pauses and thinks a moment, then says, "He seems to be making little progress, however. Perhaps it would be useful to you to speak to him? Perhaps he’ll tell you what happened to him to cause him to do something against his faith."

Sister Renofre leads you into one of the small catacombs. As she does, she glances back at Rumble. "I haven't forgotten your question. Normally our defenses and patrols are sufficient to deal with the usual threats you might expect in a resting place for the dead. Would-be thieves and graverobbers, the occasional disembodied spirit...which is why we sent Manetho to investigate these sightings. If we had suspected there was anything more serious afoot then some of the senior priests would have been sent instead."

The Pharasmin takes you to a small, simple room which she unlocks. Inside the cool, dark room, a boy of perhaps seventeen sits in the corner with his arms around his knees.

He glances up are you all, a morose expression on his face.

"Here to talk at me too? Not sure why you’re bothering…"
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You guys usually do this anyway but to save some time, I'll note that you'll need to employ Bluff, Diplomacy, or Intimidate (or perhaps something else creative & clever) to get much out of Mantheo.

Effie smiles her warmest smile, and crouches down to look the boy in the eye. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Not at you, Manetho. With you. I'm Effie. My friends and I are tracking the Div you encountered. Did you know if was a Div? I imagine not. It seems to have a talent for getting people to act against their better natures. Yours is not the only case that we have seen. Will you tell us what happened to you please? Don't leave anything out, even if it seems irrelevant. The more you can remember, the more likely that we can help you - as long as you want to help yourself, of course. We are all responsible for our own actions, even if we are influenced by outside forces."

Effie glances over her shoulder at her companions. Even if some of us don't quite agree with that notion.

"But our intentions count for a great deal." She smiles again at Manetho.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

Maria smiles and shows her journal, "For the record, I believe this div is using some sort of mind control magic or ability, so it would help our investigation if you shared everything you know."

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Zithembe approaches the boy inside the cell, removing the prismatic stone from his pouch, which begins to glow at his touch, of course. He holds it in his open palm, weaving it slowly back and forth at the level of his waist.

"Manetho, yes, we are here to speak with you," he supplements the juggler's opening. "We want to understand what happened to you that made you change your mind so dramatically. It is unusual for someone who follows the Mother of Souls to disturb the resting dead. Can you tell us why you have decided to dig up the graves? Are you looking for something specific? We can try to help you. Do you remember meeting the disembodied head that sister Renofre sent you to deal with? We would like to hear how that experience went..."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

Rumble stands in the back again, Sledge against the ground while he stands stoically and stares at the boy. Last time we were with someone touched by the Div in need of care, I made it worse for her. I'll leave it to the others this time, Torag lend me patience.
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Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

Parison stands back with Rumble as Effie, Maria and Zithembe speak with Manetho. When Effie looks around at everyone else, he gives her a nod of encouragement.

"It's the same as Sokari," he whispers to Rumble. "But I think they have the right approach. Be firm but with a little less righteous anger. I risk losing his trust because they've said everything I would have said."

Diplo aid: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

We aren't here to judge you. You have made a mistake, but you're not the only one to do mistakes. And you were under an evil influence, you couldn't think clearly. Clear your heart now, don't wait until Pharasma welcomes you in her eternal gardens. Div-e in your soul and fearlessly speak your truth. it doesn't have to be a "Do or Div" situation. You are a servant of the Div-ine. Be united with your faith, don't let a bad day (or night) sod Div-ision in the worshippers. And I don't have any more ideas of jokes with Div. So far.

Manetho blinks rapidly and wipes at his face, snuffling a little as he does.

"This thing you're hunting, you said it's a div? If 'div' means 'floating head' then yes, I saw it. Sister Renofre and the others, they sent me to deal with it. But...when I tried to banish it with divine energies, it didn't work. Nothing I tried worked! The monster laughed and laughed and laughed..."

The boy puts his head in his hands.

"The Lady of Graves could not help me...I was powerless! Was it because I had failed her in some other way? That was the only thing that made sense," the youth explains miserably, his voice muffled. "I fled the crypt and I lied to Sister Renofre, I said that I'd taken care of the threat. I couldn't admit to them that I'd failed. What if they told me to leave?"

"But the head, it haunted my footsteps. It came to me at night, it whispered that the Lady of Graves had forsaken me but that it could help me regain her favor. It promised to reveal its secrets to me. It asked me to dig up graves. It said that she who wears the spiral of death would come for me...so I am waiting. It said she would take me east, beyond the Seven Crypts, to the Ever-Dying..."

He raises his head to look at all of you once more. "Was I...was I wrong? I just wanted to redeem myself in Pharasma's sight..."

Shaken from his faith, such weakness. But too much was asked of the lad before he was ready, that's certainly not his fault. Rumble furrows his brow before speaking.

"Many ah test o' faith is failed, buh only when ye sop tryin'," he points out. "Speak tah tha Priestess, Pharasma 'as no power ovah ah Div tha way she does fer tha skellies. Firm, but no anger. Got to keep it in check.

He clears his throat. "Ye lied tah ah superior, an' thah's sumthin' ye'll 'ave tah atone fer, buh aye don't think tha yer Goddess 'as forsaken ye, jus' yeh." You're bloody lucky nobody else got hurt by your damned childish ways, even Dwarf children know not to lie to their elders like this THE WHOLE CHURCH COULD HAVE BEEN AT STAKE AND YOUR FOOLISHNESS WOULD HAVE CAUSED IT! WHAT IF CITIZENS HAVE BEEN HARMED BY YOUR PRIDE!

Face reddening, breathing intensifying, the Dwarf barely remembers Parison's words. He steps out of the room and stomps off.
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Diplomacy (Aid) vs Someone, please help <3: 1d20 ⇒ 13

Manetho flinches as the sound of Rumble's clanking and stomping recedes down the corridor.

"Um, did I say something wrong? What he said makes sense, but he seemed mad for some reason. I know that I lied. And now I know that I shouldn't have. I should've just been honest with Sister Renofre and the others," he sighs.

"But do you think he's right? Could I make things right again, if I really tried?"

I got a simple question for you: what makes you think you don't deserve a second chance?

Hepsubia looks directly in the eyes of the young priest, and smiles

Grab that chance by the neck, and drag it screamin" and kickin" into your life. Show it who's the boss. Hey, maybe it was Pharasma plan all along to let you make a mistake. You're a big believer in Fate, as all her priests, and who are you to challenge your Fate? Now your Fate is to put the things right again. So do eeeet. And do eet naw, my wee lad!

Diplo: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22s

Whether it's the smile she gives him, the directness of her words, or the sincerity behind them, or all three, a smile slowly spreads across Manetho's face. There's still some worry and uncertainty behind it but it's clear that the elf's words and Rumble's and everyone else's have pierced the veil of despair the young man had been wrapped in.

"You're serious, aren't you? You never once flinched or looked away during that speech - and neither did your dwarf friend."

Manetho takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

"And if you believe that I can do better and put things right - even though I'm a total stranger to all of you - then maybe I should try and believe it too. I hope that Sister Renofre and the others will see it the same way and give me another chance and let me make up for what I did."

"Good. If you're sincere, and I think that you are, then I'm sure your brothers and sisters will help you make amends.

Before we depart - do you know what the div meant by 'the Seven Crypts', or the 'Ever-Dying'? Have you heard those terms before?"

"We have," Zithembe says to Effie. "The name of the dungeon that the Sarenrites cleansed and sealed was the Dungeon of the Ever-Dying."

"Pssst. I know that Zith, but I don't know if our friend here knows something more. Like where it is maybe."

Rumble stares up at the night sky. The stars, the clouds, the moon, all poised with a celestial splendor. Dancers frozen in the moment before the music erupts from the orchestra, their cue to spring to life. Torag, Father of Creation, I pray unto thee. Stalwart obedience is your way, yet grant me the patience to nurture it in others, even as they fail. My anger has taken hold of me, but how am I to be patient with others when their actions could bring untold harm to others? Grant me your wisdom, show me the way.

He takes a seat in the grass, his hands tracing the sigil of faith on Sledge's head, waiting for his companions to emerge.

"Actually, I have," Manetho chimes in. "Well, sort of. I don't know where or what the 'Ever-Dying' is - well, I didn't until just now anyway - but the 'Seven Crypts' is a reference to really old shrine to Pharasma. All of the acolytes learn about these things during our training," he explains.

"Sister Renofre said that it was destroyed long ago. And, well, to be honest that's another reason I thought the creature might've actually been sent by the Lady as a herald or omen...how else would it know that name? It's not exactly something that just anyone or anything should know about, you know?"

Seeing as how the others seem to have a better rapport with Manetho, Parison ducks outside where he sees Rumble sitting on the grass.

"My friend," he says in a calm voice, suddenly realizing the irony of being sage toward a man who's probably lived the span of his own life at least four times, possibly more. "I could see the fire in your eyes in there. You told Manetho exactly what he needed to be told and what he'll have to be accountable. I'm not telling you to douse it. Turn that anger toward the div when we find it and mete out Torag's justice with Sledge and make it pay for its crimes against those it manipulated. We'll all be there with you when you do and we'll make sure the div gets its due."

Rumble's eyes stay on Sledge, but his hand stops worrying at the sigil. Father, you work in mysterious ways. Even through one whose faith is sworn to another.

"Thank ye, lad," he says softly. Patience for the worthy and wrath for the damned. I'll be nobody's fool, but that's a good place to start.

"There's ah lot tah learn from yer faith, an' aye'll be tha first tah admit tha aye thought ih was fer ah bunch o' softies. Fer tha, aye'm sorry," he confesses. For the briefest moment, his voice gives. The slightest crack in a suit of platemail; barely perceptible, but glaring to a seasoned smith. So much to learn. For all my schooling, my time with the church, the wisdom of patience has alluded me all this time.

His hand traces the sigil again.

Maria continues writing her notes as Rumble and Parison flee. I wonder what is up with those two? Jeez, I hope we don't get attacked here with only half of us to defend ourselves. Never split the group...

She pipes up with some followup questions, "So, where was this 'Seven Crypts' shrine located?" She continues her questions after he gives an answer, "Where are the graves you tried to dig up and what were the names of those buried in them?"

Can't let our witness off the hook, better get as much info as possible. Might have to talk to the head priest though. Why are all these people so short-lived. What I wouldn't do for a couple elder elves that just knew everything about this area... cause they lived through it.

Parison nods to Rumble. Still waters run deep with this crusader of Torag. I'm glad he's on my side and that he's a steady rock for me and my companions. "You're welcome, battle brother," he says, coining the term the dwarf addressed him with when he first joined this group of Pathfinders. "You helped me to prepare for what physical conflicts may arise. It is only right that I help you in return. It's what friends are for."

The cleric looks back in the direction of where the others are. "We'd better get back before they get worried and come looking for us. Maybe the young man has told them something that might help us find this elusive div."

"Righ'... righ'..." Rumble mumbles as he stands back up. Enough time with my feelings, time to get back to something real. "Ahright battle brotha, leh's go find tha Div!" Putting on a brave face, he confidently strides back in with Parrison.

Zithembe looks over his shoulder and raises a hairless eyebrow as the dwarf returns. Turning back to the others, he says, "This is likely a question for a priestess rather than an initiate."

"So, where was this 'Seven Crypts' shrine located?" She continues her questions after he gives an answer, "Where are the graves you tried to dig up and what were the names of those buried in them?"

Oblivious to the heartfelt chat happening elsewhere, Manetho shrugs helplessly. "Beyond what Sister Renofre and the other priests and priestesses taught us acolytes, I don't know. And the graves? Um, they were just sort of scattered around. The div-thing didn't tell me about any specific ones so I picked at random, trying to spread them out so it wouldn't be so noticeable that they'd been disturbed."

It's difficult for the remaining four of you - Zithembe, Maria, Effie, Hepsubia - to really get a good read on Manetho's response but at the minimum Effie is reasonably certain that the boy is continuing to be honest. He really doesn't know anything further, nor do the graves he was asked to dig up seem to have much bearing on the case at hand.

Int: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Int: 1d20 ⇒ 8

"OK. I think Zith is right. Let's ask Sister Renofre about the Seven Crypts. Seems like our best lead on the div."

Intelligence: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

"After we speak with the priestess, we should return to the lodge for rest," he says. "We can review what we have found with Obahar in the morning."

Maria writes as she shares her thoughts, "So those that were unearthed were probably just used for necromancer things as opposed to being for a specific purpose. Yes, let us follow up with the priestess." She asks a final question, "Did you do anything with the bodies or parts you dug up?" After the answer, she follows the group out to find the priestess.

Though some of you are beginning to feel that you've learned about all that can be learned here at the Necropolis you still pose one or two final questions to Manetho and then to Sister Renofre after that. Unfortunately, neither of them have much else of substance to add. Manetho explains that his instructions on what to do with the bodies were supposed to be forthcoming but that he got caught by his superiors before he could learn more. And Sister Renofre is, unfortunately, unable to offer you any additional insight as to the location of the Seven Crypts.

Still, your efforts today haven't been for naught. You calmed the traumatized Mauta, convinced Sokari to make reparations for his misdeeds, and gave the wayward Manetho new hope that his goddess hasn't forsaken him after all. And through it all you managed to learn what will hopefully be just enough for Obahar to work with when you meet with him in the morning.

But now the hour grows late and the shadows grow long, prompting you to return to the Twisting Garden Lodge to rest up and prepare for tomorrow...
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I'll allow a little time if folks wanted to make any additional purchases or do any further RP regarding the day's events, then move you on to Obahar's place probably tomorrow evening or Monday morning.

After getting a good night's sleep and making any preparations that seem necessary, you all head out early the next morning from the Twisting Garden Lodge and off to Obahar's home. You're hopeful that the learned scholar might be able to help piece together a lead on the Dungeons of the Ever Dying with the information that you learned yesterday, but of course there's no knowing for certain until you speak with him.

Though located in a relatively modest but charming neighborhood, Obahar’s home is a dilapidated, ancient stone structure that seems out of place among the more modern dwellings surrounding it. While originally three stories tall, most of the top story seems to have fallen away long ago.

And because of course it would, things immediately begin to go sideways when you arrive and discover that the front door of the home hangs slightly ajar. Once you call out - and perhaps even knock - and receive no answer, it quickly seems prudent to step inside and investigate.

When you do, you discover that Obahar lives an austere life — the main floor consists of a tiny kitchen, a sitting room, and a simple bedroom. The second floor is a single large room — the scholar’s study — with a blocked staircase that once led to the third floor. Obahar is here, crouched atop a desk in his study, wearing only one shoe and chewing on a scroll. His eyes roll randomly about the room, and he appears addled and confused. There are partially healed bite scars on his neck and shoulder. Papers and maps are strewn all about the desk and floor.

As you attempt to tend to Obahar and take stock of the papers strewn everywhere the sound of heavy feet can be heard coming up the stairs, and an armored half-orc strides into the room, announcing himself by saying, "Good thing I was around, or the old man would be long dead. Those wounds were a lot uglier before I showed up." He eyes the party a moment, then says, "I am Zurnzal, and I'm here on behalf of someone you may have heard of - Grandmaster Torch - to offer you aid."

The half-orc offers you a toothy smile. "Under certain conditions, that is."

Hepsubia looks at the wounds while babbling to Zurnzal, trying to find out who or what could have wounded the old man.

Heal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

It's kind of you, and you've did a good job taking care of that wounded man. And what would be these conditions? That we don't wear red for the rest of the year? That we don't say the word "nicopompous", if that's a word? That we hop on one foot every ten paces? That one would be fun..

when Hep considers the more serious faces of her friends

..at least for a while.

She suspiciously gets closer to the toothy half orc, looks at his mouth, and gets back to the bites wounds on the man.

No offense meant, but I had to explore every option. Heard that Torch is quite a shady character, ready to seize every advantage, even if I never meet him. Or maybe I don't remember meeting him. That's a possibility.

Maria also rushes over to see if she can figure out why Obahar would be addled and confused, but then realizes it might be above her current level of expertise.

Heal to find cause of confusion: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

That said, her other skills appear to be of more value in this situation. She begins immediately collecting the strewn papers and attempting to organize them into a cohesive story as to what someone might have been looking for here.

Any skills worth rolling for what Maria is attempting to do?

When the footsteps are heard, she pulls out her bow and aims an arrow at the doorway in case they are attacked. Once the half-orc doesn't appear to be an immediate threat, she lowers her bow and returns to her task while still keeping a wary eye on the green-skinned warrior.

Any Knowledge checks to figure out who this Zurnzal or Grandmaster Torch might be?

"Torch? I've met him. Poor man."

Effie looks sadly at the half-orc, and at Obahar.

"Here, let me help with those papers."

"'ey, 'ey, 'ey..." Rumble says, his eyes narrowing. "An' 'ow are we supposed tah know wha' ye say is true, eh? Rather convenient thah one ah Torch's lackeys 'appens tah be abouh tah save 'im..." Try as he might to read the Half-Orc, he can't find a damn thing to latch onto beyond his own general suspicion.
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Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9