GM Ladile's League of Kick-Ass Dudes: A Pathfinder Society Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Lady Ladile

(As Jan enters the Naga's Nightie he breaths in the sweet combination of aromas: stale beer, meat roasting in an open hearth and several days of sweat), "Ah, my kind of place..."

(In response to the bartenders question), "I will have a tankard of mead, a piece of whatever you have roasting over there," (his head tilting in the direction of the fireplace), "and if it's not asking too much, a couple of questions, for one who has traveled from the far north to these southernly lands."

(Reaching into his belt pouch, Jan deposits 5 gold pieces on the counter), "This should get us started..."

OOC- rather than his normally direct approach to gathering information, Jan is going to take a more deceptive route, making it appear as if he is trying to gain information on the Pathfinder Society (as a competitor) and any recent excursions to local ruins.

(Taking a long drink from his tankard), "Ah, that's as sweet as nectar falling off a Sea-Nymphs...",(Giving the Bartender a roguish wink), "I have heard that some folks come here to find adventures and treasures buried in all manner or ancient ruins and that some even belong to professional societies... Path-tenders or some such nonsense."

Bluffing his way to see if he can glean any information or attitudes (negative) towards the Pathfinder Society (and assuming the bartender's a human): Bluff: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7, (while trying to gauge his reaction to 'Path-tenders'): Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

(Irregardless of his success or failure, Jan will enjoy a couple more tankards of ale and a large meal consisting of some well-cooked meat-let's say 10 gp worth).

Meredith continues munching on her food. Just enough to not be hungry. She thanks all of the servants for their help, and makes sure she is appreciative of their efforts.

"This city? It's my first time in a desert." Meredith carefully sips some soup, especially after seeing Dalen's reaction. "There's a lot of... bureaucracy here. I'm surprised we can't leave the city without a permit. Is there some danger out there? Some kind of resource to protect?" Meredith is curious at how Khari managed to shut itself off from the desert.

"Ahhh, I am afraid not," Mavius replies to Lazarus. "My duties do keep me quite busy most of the time. Why, you saw the lines at the office did you not? And today was a rather slow day, all things considered," he chuckles. "I apologize if my staff seemed inattentive during your visit, however," Mavius adds, turning his gaze to Dalen. "They were not rude to you, surely? If they were, you must give me their names so that I may have a word with them tomorrow," he continues, looking quite serious.

"And as for the permits," Mavius says, pausing for a moment to sample a bite of couscous, "an unfortunate necessity. There has been an increase as of late in attempts to smuggle stolen goods and other illegal contraband through the city; considering our location as a port city I am sure you can understand why Khari would be a prime target for such things."

As Lazarus delicately steers the conversation towards the lord-mayor, Mavius shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Cousin, actually, but an easy enough mistake to make as we do look quite a bit alike," he explains. "As for interests...curious that you should ask. Ah, Marsiol is ever absorbed in his duties to our dear Queen and I...well, it is never a good idea to lose sight of the forest for the trees, yes? It is to one's advantage to keep abreast of all that goes on within the city."

Mavius pauses and takes another drink from his goblet and gives the more talkative of the two samsarans a meaningful look. "I am sure your Pathfinder Society would agree. Do they not also deal in information?"

"Oh," Brayden says in a startle. His mind had been wandering to his earlier success with the clerk. "Yes, they do. Information, discovery of artifacts, and exploration of Absalom and beyond. Interestingly, we were able to learn a thing or two about the Aspis Consortium having activity in these parts. It is no surprise that you mention illegal contraband." Brayden has a sip of tea, but only just. He'd barely touched his meal, but he never was one to indulge anyway.

Then he sets the cup down and clears his throat, a glance down at his plain brown pants. "Please excuse the attire. I never felt dressing up to be.. required. I would rather impress you with my own thoughts. After all, a foolish goblin in a noble's outfit and expensive jewelry is still just a foolish goblin."

Jan - Naga's Nightie

The barkeep raises an eyebrow at Jan even as he beckons for one of the serving wenches to bring round a plate of boar meat.

"Friend, subtlety ain't your strong point is it?" he remarks dryly. "'Path-tenders'? Sounds like some kinda high-falutin' food. Just ask what ya mean to ask next time."

"Yeah, everyone's heard of the Pathfinders, even way out here. As to what people think of 'em, depends on who you're asking," he remarks as he begins cleaning some of the dirty mugs clumped near the end of the bar. "Hear tell it they're demons to some and angels to others. Round here?" He shrugs. "No one really cares much one way or th' other. Not our business."

As the man begins to wipe down the bar, he casually swipes his rag over the gold coins Jan had laid down and oh, nothing there but a shiny, clean bar. "Now th' Aspis, that's a whole nother kettle of fish. Buncha shady figures, them. Came through awhile back with a big caravan, they did, headed out to them old ruins," he muses aloud, almost as if talking to himself. "Funny too, how quick they got passes to leave th' city. Must've had friends in all th' right places..."

"You callin' me a goblin?" Meredith retorts.

Perform(Comedy): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Something, anything to break up this dry talk.

Lazarus nods, "We Pathfinders seek to uncover and preserve knowledge for the treasure that it is, and to safeguard that which could be dangerous in the wrong hands."

When Brayden mentions the Aspis Consortium, he adds, "The Aspis view information as a commodity, acquiring it, by any means necessary, for its market value, and selling it to the highest bidder. More amoral than truly evil, but too often with dire, unintended consequences."

"Whom would you rather do business with, Mavius Giovenci?" the wizard-priest asks with a polite smile.

As the bottle surfaces Frankie hops over and retrieves it "Oh ya! I totally forgot! Mom always told me it was rude to show up to dinner without bringing a bottle of wine!" Frankie scurries over and hands the bottle to the man directly before heading back to his seat.

Afterwards Frankie continues to hound the servers with questions, tentatively trying a few of the foods they bring, but only the ones that seem like they could be sweet or dessert-like. "So is that a negative on the pancakes? Waffles? Maple syrup? Do you guys wanna try some? Do they make that stuff down here?"

"Um, no, it was a baker that said an official came by to correct a mistake and said his bakery was a castle, and he'd have to pay the taxes for a castle," Dalen says as she silently curses herself. Each word is very precisely enunciated, and her rural Taldane accent has almost faded completely away. "I've lived in Taldor and Absolom, and I've been a few other places besides, but most artisans that I have met do not live as nobles. Most that I've known live and work in places that are nothing like the houses that nobles live in. It seems to me that someone is either trying to put the baker out of work or is trying to skim money from the taxes people pay without anyone noticing."

Mavius offers a genuine *snerk* at Meredith's quick-witted reply to Brayden's remark. "Nicely timed, Miss Ulmari! I've heard that Pathfinders are often multi-talented, capable of wielding pen and word as well as the sword."

To Dalen, he raises a rather surprised eyebrow. "Really, now? A castle in the place of a bakery? How absurd! But come now, I am sure it was a simple clerical error. There is nothing to be done about it tonight but tomorrow, I will see that this matter is looked into with the utmost care!"

As the main dishes are cleared away the desserts begin to appear, much to Frankie's delight. Once more, the sheer variety on offer is nearly overwhelming - crisp peppermint tarts, spicy almond biscuits, smooth pudding, and even...plantain pancakes!

"Your syrup, little one," one of the servants remarks with some amusement as he leaves a small dish with warm syrup especially for Frankie.

With seemingly boundless appetite, Mavius selects portions of each dessert, piling them high on his plate. Just as he raises a spoonful of pudding to his lips, Lazarus asks his rather pointed question and the magistrate slowly lowers it again. "What a question to ask, Master Logos. I serve the interests of Khari, just as my cousin does," Mavius smiles. "While unfortunate that we had such an infestation of snakes, I assure you that such practices will not be tolerated in this city - nor will the perpetrators."

Sense Motive DC14: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

This magistrate would prefer that I not discuss the Aspis Consortium. Perhaps he's already familiar with them. He might even have an association or arrangement with them, if they got to him first.

He looks around at his companions, wishing there was a way to share his misgivings about the man with them.

"Signore Mavius, I get the impression you're no stranger to either the Pathfinders or the Aspis. We're grateful for your hospitality and we do not seek to offend you, our gracious host. But come now, let's lay our cards on the table. We would make better friends than enemies. Why not assist us as well? You've nothing to lose. If the Aspis succeeds, you win. If you've helped us, and we succeed, you win, too."
Intimidate: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Lazarus, you many-times reincarnated old fox. That was darn fine logic, if I do say so myself. Praise Desna for her inspired wisdom.

"It seems that wines weren't the only thing you've done your research on," Mavius remarks coldly as he stares at Lazarus. "But what evidence do you have, hmm? Nothing, I wager. Nothing beyond the ramblings of drunkards and your own intuition. I don't know how they handle things where you and your friends are from, Master Logos, but I'm afraid that under the banner of Cheliax simple talk and 'gut feelings' will not get one very far."

The magistrate, now appearing to have thoroughly lost his appetite, pushes his plate away. "Yet your reputation precedes you. Pathfinders, as stubborn as ticks on a hound's back! You shall have your damnable passes if it means that I shall be free of your meddlings."

With a snap of his fingers, servants again seem to appear from nowhere and begin whisking away the partially-eaten dishes. "I believe you are staying at the Desert's Jewel, yes? My man will see you to the gates; your passes will be awaiting you in the morning," Mavius continues, rising from his seat. "I bid you good evening and good luck - this land outside of the city is not known for being hospitable."

And as quickly as it began, the evening comes to a rather sudden (but perhaps welcome for some) conclusion as you find yourselves escorted back to the outer gate of the mansion. The sun is now fully set but at least now you can return to your lodgings and prepare to proceed with your mission on the morrow.
__________

Today is another work day so I will continue us onward later this evening!

"Oh, the rooftop was pretty! And you can see the sunset right to the horizon- wow, the wind gets really cold at night." Denair climbs down to greet Meredith and her friends. "What was inside?"

"Nothing but Snakes and Vipers." Meredith replies coldly. "They know who we are and know we're not idiots. I don't know if Chileax sent us here to die or Aspis hopes to get lucky, but they're both wrong. We're Pathfinders."

Denair frowns. She's back to being Miss Grumpypuss again.

"And someone help me out of this dress, I feel like a whore. I'll never understand the point of these things. Just protect my skin from the sun and something to wipe the sweat off my brow anyday." Meredith mumbles once they return to the inn.

"Dalen, you need any help getting that off of you?"

Meredith puts her dress and jewelry in her bag. Her chain shirt feels much more comfortable. At least some Aspis Viper who shows up in the middle of the night will have to cut through it to reach her gut.

"Good night, everyone. Good night, Denair." She climbs into bed and lets the desert breeze drift her away to sleep. The rosebuds in her hair fall out as Denair withers away, returning to the fey realms for another night.

Frankie's eyes light up as the main course... of desserts... finally makes its way to the table. His eyes, then his nose, makes its way around the different platters and plates as he helps pass them around to the others. Sleight of Hand to Steal!: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30

Each plate somehow makes its way through Frankie's sticky fingers and onward down the line, even if the servers don't realize it. "Woah, so much great looking food! You've really brought out some great stuff Mr Mavius!" He eagerly digs in and tries the pancakes with a heavy/entire serving of maple syrup. Likes it?: 1d100 ⇒ 3 After one bite though Frankie's eyes bug out and he stops chewing, grabs Brayden's napkin and unceremoniously spits out the pancake into it. "Sorry, I think this one is bad.. its got.. some mooshy thing in it?" He takes the syrup bowl and liberates the last of its syrup to cleanse his palate.

However just as quickly as the bounty arrived, the bounty was taketh awayed. A queer and unhappy look furrows Frankie's brow as the servants quickly start taking the plates and platters away. "Oh.. what? Was it me? Ugh let me help... sorry!" He again hands back the dishes with a look of embarrassment from spitting out the pancake with the horrid mooshy, yet solid bits in it. Sleight of Hand to Steal: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (19) + 13 = 32

As they are quickly escorted out Frankie stays at the front of the group, slyly holding a pair of large cloth napkins bundled up out of anyone's field of vision as they march. Well, at least we've got some snacks for the trip home and breakfast! Once they make it out of the gates he smiles and holds up his bounty "Anyone miss dessert? The servers felt guilty and sent me along some for the road!" Bluff: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22 He stuffs a cream filled roll into his face, dribbling some onto his fancy shirt.

"Well, that was an interesting dinner. Excellent food and drink, too." Lazarus sighs, enjoying the memory and resisting Lil Frankie's offer of more pilfered desserts. "At least we acquired the exit documents we need."

"We should find Jan Eriksson, and see how his evening fared."

Dalen is all too happy to leave, though as she does, she feels a shiver run up her spine and wonders if she'll ever feel clean again as she leaves. Meredith's offer of help when they return surprises Dalen and the self-conscious ranger does her best not to look too embarrassed as she nods then turns so the other woman can get at the catch.

"Thank you," mutters as she begins to change. Even after changing into the outfit she'd bought with the dress, a much more practical and comfortable set of clothes, she doesn't relax.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this," she says after a long moment. "I ran away from home t' avoid havin' t' play th' part of a doll, an' here I am doin' the same thing. I just wanted t' explore old forgotten places an' see what was out there, an' I've played watchman and diplomat since then. I'm just a woodland guide. I'm not any skilled negotiator or witty debutante."

Lazarus smiles at the ranger. "Your attire need not define you, Dalen Stonestep. You are the same person, no matter what you wear. Clothes are much like any other tool. We don this dress or that armor, because it is suitable for the task at hand, to enhance our chances of success, to blend in, or sometimes to stand out."

Shrugging into his customary robes, he continues. "I am a priest of Desna, the Song of Spheres. This black-trimmed white robe proclaims to the world my service to the goddess. For all our conviction that clothes express our individuality, in truth, we select clothes to make sure others know who and what we are. In my experience, individuality is the last thing we express with our attire, even the most eccentric among us."

He smiles again. "There, that's enough samsaran pontificating for one evening, no?"

(Upon meeting up with the rest of the group), "I hope you all had a good time with Mavius."

(Directing his attention to the entire group, but throwing a wink at Dalen), "This place has been infiltrated by the Aspis Consortium a few weeks ago, and a large group, reportedly well-provisioned, headed out in the same direction as we are... word is they are going to be looting some old ruins."

(Instinctively, Jan's left hand pats his belt pouch where his collection of Aspis badges are kept as mementos of his victories). By Gozreh, and the gods of my fathers, it looks like I will have a chance to add to my collection.

(Looking intently at Lazarus),"It looks like the Aspis have some friends in high places here... it might behoove us to be wary... so we don't get an assassins' blade in the back."

"We all work differently, Dalen. You've got a way with a longsword that I'll never understand. Some of us are more magically gifted than others. And some of us have a way with words." Meredith munches on a salted fig- where did this come from?

She nods as Jan speaks. "Mavius has definitely cast his lot with Aspis. He was probably hoping to detain us here or convert us. But now that he sees our conviction he can't wait to kick us out and hope we meet an unfortunate accident out there." She shrugs. "It won't be the first time Aspis has tried to kill me. Let's get what we need and get out of here."

"Th' passes won't be here until th' mornin'," she reminds Meredith. Despite the reassurances and the lecture, Dalen's spirits remain low.

"I'm gonna get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow won't be filled snakes an' vermin," sh says before curling up on the bed. A minute later, she's breathing easily in a dreamless slumber.

After meeting back up with Jan and comparing some notes, the party enjoys their pilfered desserts and the opportunity to shed their formal attire before settling down for the night at the Desert's Jewel. In the morning, just as promised, the group finds the promised travel permits waiting for them. Eager to get down to some actual archaeology, you make what last-minute purchases you need for your trip and set out across the desert.

Though the day is quite hot, it's also rather overcast and the cloud cover does make the heat of the day somewhat bearable compared to what it might've been otherwise. The group follows the map provided by the Athenaeum, its careful notations proving a boon as you make your way along, allowing the day to pass uneventfully and in relative safety. Soon, you can see a bluff rising out of the flatness of the desert to the southeast - the ruins that you seek. And just in time too, as the sun has already begun its descent from the sky.

If it's needed, Meredith has a Wand of Endure Elements.

Meredith's spirits soar as she leaves town and begins trekking across the desert. She's glad to be out of town, out of Mavius's tangled web of lies and out in the open. Bring it on, Aspis.

Meanwhile, Denair runs around, planting her feet/roots into the grounds, rambling about how few dryads will ever experience this. She's happy. And as much as Meredith doesn't want to admit it, if Denair is happy she is happy.

Frankie is up early "I gotta get supplies!" And rushes off out the door. When he returns he comes riding a camel. "Wooo check out this ride! It's really kinda hard sitting on top of this hump though..." Lucky for him, he's tiny compared to the big old camel that seems more interested in the tasty treats his rider keeps feeding him.

With the ruins in sight and dusk fading into night, Lazarus activates his wand of mage armor (44 charges remain), then stows it in his handy haversack, before drawing any closer. He checks his spring-loaded wrist sheaths, wand of magic missile in one and wand of cure light wounds in the other. Finally, he retrieves his wand of bless, ready for the worst.

(If needed, Lazarus, too, has a wand of endure elements.)

Brayden had been silent for the majority of the dinner. The others seem well-equipped enough to deal with the nobleman, and he felt he'd only make things worse if he said too much. He did sneak a cupcake when no one was looking, however.

The next day, Brayden looks on at the vastness of the desert, a smile on his face. "Sand. And lots of it," he says as he kneels to grab a clump and watch it stream through his fingers. "Quite the contrast from the stone jungle of Corentyn, yet beautiful in its own way."

Frankie looks ahead on the ruins and smiles "Looks like we're here huh? Do you think those stinky Aspis are already here? Maybe we should try to be quiet to get in close to check?" He looks around at the mountains and stretches of sand "Not much to hide in out here Denair, and man its hot!" He has another slug of cocoa, er water.

Frankie's idea of supplies was the camel. As much as it pains me sometimes, he's a kid and I gotta play him as a kid that doesn't know anything about the desert...

Lazarus feels a commotion inside his robes. Ah, all the chatter must have awakened Sid.

*HEY! WHAT GIVES? CAN'T A RABBIT GET A LITTLE SHUTEYE?* The white rabbit pokes his head out of his master's robes, nose and whiskers twitching, cute little red eyes glaring. *Master, you need to get a grip on that @#$%in' little yard ape, before I take matters into my own hands. He'll be sipping @#$%in' cocoa through a straw for the rest of his @#$%in' life, the little b@#$%ard!*

Once again, the wizard-priest thanks Desna that no one else can understand his potty-mouthed familiar.

Dalen turns from the south, her eyes wide and brows knitting in worry.

"There's a Sandstorm comin'. We need t' find shelter, now!"

Survival or Perception (Find a suitable shelter): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

At the urgent tone in Dalen's voice, Lazarus follows her gaze, squinting into the distance, then looking around for a suitable place to shelter. "Do any of you spot a likely place we can ride out the storm?"
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Nope, no need for Endure Elements, thankfully!
__________

Even as Dalen gives her warning and you begin to look around for some sort of shelter, the wind begins to pick up speed as ominous dark clouds gather to the south. Looking around, the only shelter you can see anywhere around are the ruins jutting up from the top of the bluff. It looks as though there's a path winding up the side, if you can get to it in time...
__________

Each of you please make a Ride check if you are mounted to spur your mount along or a Constitution check to haul booty if you're on foot to reach the base of the bluff. Thanks to Dalen's keen eyes giving you a bit of warning the DCs for these checks are a little bit easier than they would have been otherwise!

Oh dear! How does one make a camel go faster?
Ride check: 1d20 ⇒ 7
"Em, friends? Please don't leave me to die. It shames me to admit it, but I've grown attached to this life."
VC Shirt Re-Roll + 5 GM-stars: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

(Responding to Dalen),"This isn't the North, but a sandstorm is as deadly as any blizzard from what I have been told."

We need to find some shelter quick

Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

Gozreh, give me strength!

(Running, but having trained for years to keep going when other have long-since collapsed, Jan pushes himself to his physical limit).

Constitution Check (Endurance): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
REROLL- Portfolio +3 GM Stars.
Constitution Check (Endurance): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

(Shouting at Lazarus), "GET THAT FILTHY BEAST MOVING!"

Con Check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21 Woo!

Dalen doesn't hesitate and sprints for her life towards the ruins, the heavy pack and the heat proving little hinderance to her.

Ride + Adaptable Luck: 1d20 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 4 + 3 = 27 Frankie points to where he wants to go and whispers to his camel "Hey Sal, give ya some more treats if you get me up there FAST!" And with a lift of its tail and a plop of its dung, Sal the Camel bolts off towards the bluff with Frankie bouncing and balancing on the top of his hump. "WOOOO! Sal you're way faster than that old mean guy said!"

Frankie waves the others onward, having the time of his life.

What a perfect roll. Frankie is supposed to be a 'fly by the seat of your pants' type of character. Luck will carry him through...

Any chance I could use my Handle Animal check instead? If not, my Ride check is +3.

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Meredith's camel plans to sit down and simply endure the sandstorm. "I ain't like you, we need to move it!" She's way too aggressive in spurring the camel.

Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
And she can't even make out the ruins Dalen is heading towards.

Con: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Denair, meanwhile, can't get a good grip in this sand. It's coarse and gets everywhere. She still likes the sand, but it's not very useful right now.

Con: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Folio reroll, +2
Con: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Brayden gets a mouthful of sand when the winds suddenly pick up. "Ugh... Did I say it was beautiful? I think I am now having second thoughts..." He loudly complains, pushing his way through the sandstorm as best he can.

Hokay, time to kick the tires and get us moving along again!
__________

Having no desire to be caught out in the open, the group begins racing pell-mell towards the base of the bluff. Dalen's feet seem to barely touch the sand as she races along and though they struggle under the weight of their armor and gear, both Jan and Brayden aren't too far behind her. Sal, urged onward by the lure of all the treats she can eat, quickly outpaces everyone as she carries a whooping Frankie along. Lazarus' camel is more reluctant to get moving and it takes the samsaran a concentrated effort to get him going but finally, he seems to get the picture and begins loping along. Meredith's camel proves to be either incredibly stubborn or incredibly stupid and refuses to budge, until Lazarus's camel slams against her flank as they pass by. With an indignant bray, the stubborn one begins to move as well. And for a moment, it looks as if Denair will be left behind completely as she finds herself unable to gain a solid footing or traction on the desert sands. The eidolon glances over her shoulder as she hears the pounding of camel hooves approaching and tenses, waiting...waiting...and then just as Frankie and Sal draw even with her, she leaps and manages to catch on as they pass!

Jan, your first Con check was a success so regain that folio re-roll!

As you all come thundering up to the base of the bluff, you see that a narrow path snakes its way up the side towards the top. It'll take quite a bit of skill and finesse to get not only yourselves but your camels safely up to the top...

If you are on foot, please make a DC 14 Acrobatics or Climb check to make your way up the path. For those riding camels, make a DC 14 Ride or DC 12 Handle Animal check to lead them up the path.

Squinting through the howling wind and blowing sand, Lazarus spies the narrow path up the side of the bluff. Praise Desna, Our Lady of Luck, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to gain eternal life! The camel hasn't killed me, but the storm still might.
Ride check DC14: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Climb: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Dalen ignores the winding path and goes for the direct route. She barely slows as she reaches the base of the climb and begins to scramble up the rocks. The clatter of loose stones rings out over the growing wind hands and boots propel the ranger up. At the top she lets out a sharp, vicious curse as she realizes she'd never gotten any rope. Frustrated and not wanting to leave anyone behind, she waits at the top and hauls people up the last few feet.

"Weeeee!" Hollers Frankie as Denair grabs on and he keeps bouncing on the hump towards the bluff and then up it!

Ride, DC14: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

"You're the best camel I've ever known Sal!" He pats her neck, sending up a cloud of dust.

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
"Come on... Come on! I'm not built for sandstorms like you!" Meredith urges the camel to move up the path.

Denair thinks all of this is beautiful, even if she winds up buried alive. Still, she's a natural climber so she decides to climb up the path.

Denair has a climb speed, giving her a +8 bonus to climb checks for a total of +11. She can also take 10 on Climb checks even while threatened. If she can't take 10, here's a roll:

Climb: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

My bad luck with dice continues.

It's time to get climbing

Climb: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

(Pulling himself upward and onward, by a combination of strength and personal will, Jan scurries up the narrow path to safety.)

Brayden's hide armor proves especially heavy when buffeted by a sandstorm. Regardless, he points his katana forward as if to carve a path through the blinding mess. Whether or not it actually worked, he thought it might look cool.

Climb: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (16) - 2 = 14

The Empress of Heaven smiles upon him, and Brayden easily carves a path through the sandstorm as if he were mowing it down with his blade.

Frankie watches everyone else ride and climb up the steep slopes and cheers "You guys are doing great! Isn't this awesome? My first sand storm AND my first camel ride.. on the same DAY!" He coughs and sputters a bit when the sand goes up his nose, but yet he rides on!

With the wind now really beginning to pick up, the group races up the bluff towards the ruins at the top. Dalen scrambles up the side like a human fly while the rest of the group hurry along the narrow path that winds along, the camels now needing much less encouragement to get moving and keep moving. By the time everyone manages to reach the top of the 200' tall bluff the sand really begins to buffet the group and you all know that it'll only get worse. But there must be some place to shelter here among the ruins...if you can find it amidst the swirling sands.
__________

Now, I need a DC 15 Perception check from each of you to navigate through the ruins and the wind and sand to find a safe place to shelter!

(With instincts honed to Hawk-like levels... Jan navigates his way through the sandstorm.)

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Be it sand or snow, Gozreh will protect and guide me!

Perception, DC15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Frankie wanders up the path with camel-in toe (or perhaps the other way around) "I can't see a thing! Oh, the sand stopped, this spot looks good!" He luckily steers, or is steered in the right direction. Luck is always on his side.

Sorry, I had to toss in the camel pun.