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

Game Master Lady Ladile

Determined to allow the fey to mete out their own judgement of Vondrella, for it is they who have suffered the most for her actions, you resolve to visit Queen Syntira as soon as you possibly can. This proves a little trickier than usual, however, as you quickly realize that none of you know how to reach the place where she dwells and holds court.

But, as many of you know, the fey have mysterious ways. Hoping that perhaps the Queen - or an emissary - might come to you, Annea and Meredith and Denair sing their request to the birds in the sky and whisper them to the trees. And then, rather than wait for an answer that may or may not immediately be forthcoming, you decide to proceed back to Falcon's Hollow - or at least the small makeshift field hospital on the outskirts of town - to check in with Laurel and Lady Cirthana.

When you get back not only do you have quite a story to tell the pair, taking care to do so out of earshot of their charges, but you also find that in your absence Laurel has finally perfected a recipe for an antiplague specifically tailored to combat the palepox!

"Couldn't have done it without you, that's for sure," she smiles, looking quite tired but also elated. "Hopefully you've managed to put a stop to any future outbreaks altogether but even if a few spores from those flowers managed to settle elsewhere, at least now I've got a way to help fight this 'palepox' off and it'll no longer be a death sentence for anyone who gets it."

Glancing over at Vondrella, who keeps her gaze steadily on the ground, Laurel lowers her voice and adds, "Normally I'd not keep such a secret as her from the town, but...if you're going to bring her before the Queen of the Forest, I'll abide by your decision. And if you put your request to the elements, well...I expect you'll get your answer before the dawn."

And with that rather enigmatic statement from Laurel, there's little else to do but bed down - and wait.
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Another post to follow, please stand by~

Sometime later, as the moon hangs high in the sky, you all wake from your sleep to find yourselves surrounded by soft, twinkling lights. A delicate, unclothed figure stands before you, a nymph with hair the color of flame and long ears tapering to points above her head. No mere mortal, her beauty has an unearthly quality like nothing you've ever experienced or imagined and she greets your wondering stares with a smile that is somehow beautiful and terrible at the same time.

"A little bird came to me, singing of the mortals who braved the threat of Isandrea's Basin," she murmurs, her voice musical in its tone. "The satyrs of the wood came to me, shouting of the mortals who had sought a cure for the wasting illness that plagued my people. And the trees whispered to me of the mortals who wished to deliver unto me a precious gift - the one responsible for the illness, the one who tormented my people so."

As she speaks, Laurel, Lady Cirthana and the recovering lumberjacks sleep on, deeply, never stirring. Distantly you think that perhaps the nymph queen laid a spell on them to prevent them from waking - that this meeting is for your eyes only. Vondrella, however, is wide awake and trembles with fear before the proud nymph queen, too overcome to speak.

"You must repay me for the slight your arrogance has caused me and my people, for despite your insult I love you as I love every Man and Beast, and you must learn to take this love into your heart. I shall rescue you from the darkness of the world of Man. You will come with me and live in my realm and there you will learn humility," the Queen declares. With a snap of her fingers, Vondrella vanishes without so much as a cry or whimper.

"Meredith Ulmari, Denair, Vosk Lazav, Quang Chi, Annea Clivana, and Frankie - you have saved my people," Syntira continues, turning her attention back to all of you. "You are known to us and will be honored as heroes of the Darkmoon Wood. Tonight we celebrate you..."

The walls of the small shack that you've bedded down in melt away, revealing a beautiful summer glen. Syntira reaches out one hand to Frankie and the other to Denair. "Eat, drink, and be merry with me and my subjects," she beckons...
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Assume that fun and merriment (of both the kid-friendly and otherwise varieties, if you want) ensue and post accordingly, if you wish! I'll do one other follow-up/closeout post a bit later~

With the settled, Meredith is at a loss. How do they reach the queen? Or at least an emissary? She'll settle for those horny Satyrs if they can carry a message...

Denair has a very odd idea. Well, it's odd until Annea agrees about calling out to the birds and the trees. Why not? It's not the craziest idea. I mean, Denair exists. The Queen of Thorns almost certainly existed. And all the fey she's met...

So she calls. Screams. Dammit, you birds better be listening. I sound like a... quail? Hummingbird? Emu? I don't know. How many fey are laughing at me right now? They probably have a letter to write or something. Meredith shakes her head. She takes a long swig.

Back at the outskirts of town, Meredith shares the story to Laurel. "Good news. Bad news. Vonderella. You told me about her. She came back. She... was bitter about her abandonment. She hated how her parents were left to die then burned without a burial. So lost hope, and the Pallid Princess took her. I'm glad you were able to find a cure. We found the cause, she can never do it again. The beggars won't bother you again, either."

"The fey of the Darkwood got hit even worse then Falcon's Hollow. She has to answer to them. No idea what they will do, but... hopefully she can find redemption and a new home." She breathes a sigh. "At least... that's what I have to think."

With a party hosted by the Fey, Vosk spends the entire night indulging his appetites. Starting first with the food, he samples as many delicacies as he can, asking the trio of Brownies on the table for their advise in wine pairings.

His ample belly pleasantly warmed by the richness of the food, he then turns himself to the drink in earnest. Having been taken in by a Dryad and Sprite, he's offered a variety of wines and liquors in tiny cups, favoring taste over inebriation.

By the end of the night, however, Vosk finds himself in a whirlwind of excitement that eventually fades to black. Waking up naked in the woods with several other party goers (particularly snuggled up to a Naiad and a Satyr), a Grig presents him with his neatly folded clothes and a cup of what passes for coffee in the Vale. He doesn't remember everything, but from what he does? Damn it was a good night!

Everyone is sitting around, and they FINALLY decide to call upon the Queen for help. Of course, duh. So she nudges Meredith to talk to the grass, the wind, the birds. They all speak to her, she speaks to them, and they carry their tale to the Queen. Hopefully Meredith doesn't invoke her wrath.

Hearing about the cure does bring joy to Denair. There was fear in her mind as she heard the tales of the dying fey. "Laurel, could you... um... write down the cure? The Darkwood would love to hear more about it." And it would make a good offering.

The night is young, and most have gone to bed. Denair urges Meredith to relax and get to bed, even though the human is wide awake. The humidity is just right. The pollen smells just right. And there's a hint of persimmon in the air. Meredith's going to embarrass herself if she does this wrong.

But finally, the Queen arrives. Denair keeps her head low, and thinks about getting Meredith to bow down, but it would seem silly. Plus she may as well enjoy the Queen's dramatics and sense of flair. Bye Vonderella. Hopefully she won't be too cruel.

A feast, yes. Let the others participate, eat and drink. Denair's time to shine is now. She walks up to one of the Queen's emissaries. "We're all sorry for what happened. We have brought the person responsible. On behalf of my Boss, I present to you the cure the Humans developed to fend off the disease. Here is a copy. Hopefully we can modify it to help those of the First World. The Former Queen of Thorns and the Pathfinder Society send their thanks and well wishes."

Denair walks up to every emissary and courtier she can and reminds them of where the cure came from and who was responsible. Most of them are quite thankful. Some even mumble her name, trying to memorize their saviors. Others grumble their ounce of gratitude, warning her not to let the success go to her head. Ah, politics. One day Meredith will be fully reborn, and all of these favors will pay off.

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 6

Denair takes the moment to slip away and approach the many mourning dryads. She tells them of the cure, and tries to raise hope for those still fighting. She tells the dryads about her incredible journeys and describes the outside world to them. She's lucky, and she knows it. "They take it for granted- sailing across the ocean, walking for miles into unknown territory. We're chained to our Homes. But I'll give you the ability to project yourself. Using only words."

Perform(Oratory): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Denair pulls out several leaves, stained with ink. Some have drawings, some have words on them. All of them describe the many journeys and locals she's visited. "Read the words, look at the drawings, and let your mind take you there. It's better than the real thing. I'll write as much as I can, and bring more here. The Boss... she still doesn't know what I've been doing with all of those lessons she's taught me."

Instantly awake, as only those trained by monks and drill sergeants can be, Quang Chi snaps into a roll out of bed. He immediately assumes the Bow to Royalty position - left knee on the floor, right foot forward with his chest pressing onto his right thigh. His right fist is closed and held solidly against the wooden floorboards, while his left arm extends straight back from his body, palm open and up. The position ensures that the supplicant can do no harm to the royal personage, while still maintaining readiness to defend said personage if needed.

Quang Chi remembers the last time he assumed this position. When in the presence of Lord Pham Sang Chinh, he kept his gaze locked firmly on the ground, but here and now he cannot keep his eyes off the vision of pure unearthly beauty before him. He senses that she is not displeased by what other royalty would consider such a grossly rude act.

When the Queen leads Frankie and Denair away, Quang Chi rises and dusts off his knee. He follows the others in amazement as he qawks at the variety of fey gathered. Gathered to honor them, it would seem, as various pixies, sprites, and dryads all wave and offer their thanks to the Pathfinders.

As he approaches the center of the glade, he becomes aware of the most otherwordly singing. He suspects the language is Sylvan, though for some reason he understands the gist of the song in spite of not speaking the fey tongue. It is a song of death, but a joyful death, a release of breath and an embrace of the waters. Appropriately the singer too is strangely otherworldly in appearance.

A solitary androgynous humanoid, perhaps with a touch of elf, stands alone in the center of the circle as various other species of fey play pipes and small drums in accompaniment. Her(?) skin appears damp, and her long dark hair floats around her solemn face as if it were underwater, even here on the land. As she sings, her gaze falls on Quang Chi, and as it does her sad eyes light up with just a glint of pleasure. Her song changes tune and tone into a final slightly upbeat chorus, and she bows to the assembled feys’ applause without taking her eyes from the archer.

”I am Eausah,” she says in introduction, her speaking voice soft and subtle like the flowing of a small stream. ”You are one of the Pathfinders who saved us,” she states rather than asks. ”The Queen has said we are to honor you, but I want to give you my thanks. Personally,” she emphasizes with a tiny smile. ”The sickness had spread in the ground water. It neared my stream, and I would have died had you not stopped it.”

Quang Chi rarely has trouble speaking to women. But this one - this one is so different. He finally stammers out his name and compliments her amazing singing. Eausah quickly takes the lead in the conversation, then leads him to her stream, and takes the lead throughout the night….

Climbing out of the water in the morning, Quang Chi is amazed at what happened. The sex was obviously truly unusual and unique, but perhaps most amazing was how he slept immersed in the water with Eausah’s magic allowing him to breathe. Overall, an experience that he will likely have to carefully edit when writing his report for Master Kae.

He rejoins the others, resisting the urge to obey the words stitched into the back of Vosk’s pants. He does find it interesting that they shift so that the reader always sees “Kick Me” in their native language. For all that the fey did to express their gratitude, they are still fey in the end.

Night time descends, and everyone goes to bed. Well, except Meredith. It's a full moon, clear night... wasn't it cloudy before?

Meredith does wonder what will happen to Vonderella. A life of hard labor? She'll maybe pay a life debt. Or worse. If Denair's words are true though, Meredith is serving her time as the Queen of Thorns. Or is it a chance of redemption? It feels liberating, in a way.

But something smells odd, and it's much too bright... and she knows. She doesn't understand why, but she is overwhelmed by the Queen's arrival. Yes, she's beautiful. Beautiful beyond compare. In fact, Meredith is taking a very good look. But it's more about how the Queen carries herself. Analyzing with a fair hand, pronouncing judgement, and giving a careful reward. "Uh... your highness... er, my Queen... um..."

She takes a hard gulp. "Please, do not punish Vonderella too harshly. She has committed a great amount of pain, yes. But give her a chance to work, repair the damage she caused, and maybe show they fey something they haven't seen before." Silence. "That's what you gave me, right?" Right? That's what happened to me?

Did the Queen... chuckle?[i] Meredith blushes and turns to Denair, who is definitely trying to stifle a laugh. [i]Am I hallucinating?

It only gets worse as the cabin fades and she's bombarded with scents, sounds and sights of the Fey Court. Watching Vosk and Denair run off helps, but doesn't help. It's all too much to absorb. Meredith quickly branches off and finds a quiet place to calm down. Catch her breath.

"A little quiet never hurt anyone, my Queen." A man's voice whispers. Meredith jerks her head up. "You know, the Queen is quite thankful for what you did. Of course she can't say it directly. Politics and all that."

Meredith still can't find the source, and the man laughs. "Do not worry about me, Queen of Thorns. You are growing stronger and stronger by the day. I wonder when you will fulfill the end of my bargain. I am patient. Say hello to Denair for me."

Meredith doesn't have time to check before a well-dressed dryad walks up to her. "Greetings, Meredith Ulmari. Former Queen of Thorns. Queen Syntira sends her regards. She will take your words into consideration. I am to accompany you until it is time to return." She pours some tea into a wooden cup. Not a single drop is wasted.

"So it's all true, huh..." Meredith takes a sip before she feels compelled to drink it in one gulp. Not hot, not cold, it feels just right. The dryad smiles. "This was your favorite tea. This particular batch was blessed by the Queen herself. Drink up. Then we shall enjoy the evening."

Frankie doesn't say much when they get back to town, not much to do really other than smile and look cute right? At night though he's quickly out like a light, its been a really long day with a TON of walking. Sometimes the others forget how short his legs are on those long walks.

Something though wakes him in the middle of the night. A whisper, a repeating whisper: Wake up Guisseppe, wake up! Before long it gives up and instead he bolts awake to a cold, wet finger stuck in his ear and a grinning Denair attached to the other end of it. "Hey, that's my gag!" He gives her a kick and stuffs some pillow case in his ear to get out the goop.

"Oh hi pretty Lady, I'm Frankie!" He sits up and yawns, squinting at the bright lights and wondering why she's naked. Huh, everyone keeps staring, should I stare? Maybe? Ok I guess. Frankie stares a bit too but probably for other reasons. Finally he nods, slowly, agreeing to take the woman's hand with Denny, walking into the forest's opening, face alight with curiosity.

Never has a child had more fun in his entire life, especially a child such as Frankie. Raised on and off the streets by 'Mom', Frankie never had much that he didn't pluck, sweet talk, or smile his way into. At home he was a nuisance: too much energy, too curious and fearless for his own good. Never was there a sweet he couldn't sniff out, a locked door he couldn't bypass, nor an old lady he couldn't impress. But this place... this place was filled with dozens of Frankies of all shapes and sizes! Some had hooves, some had horns, some were naked, some looked like trees! Laughing, smiling, dancing, and THE CANDY OMG THE CANDY! By morning his face hurt from laughing, his teeth hurt from the sugar and his back hurt from his bulging pockets of treats he made off with.

"Hi Frankie! Having fun?" Denair makes sure to check on one of the few humans who don't annoy her. "Make sure you don't accept too many gifts from the fey. You might take on a debt... oh..." She notices the smell and telltale sticky fingers of fey candy all over him.

"Well, if you owe everyone a favor it might cancel out... Oh! Let me show you my house! It's a big oak tree, but's hollow on the inside. There's a bed made of leaves you can sleep on, and all the water you can drink, hot or cold." Her ears flutter before they flatten. "No syrup, though."

The fey don't really believe in death.

To be more accurate, death in the First World just means you reincarnate as a different fey, with none of your memories intact. So playing pranks that could be fatal? No biggie, you didn't really die, you just came back later. It takes a lot for the fey to truly understand the value of life and death.

"More tea?" The emissary pours out another cup for Meredith, who drinks it up almost immediately. "The Queen of Thorns hated invaders- wandering fey were barely tolerated. So imagine when lumberjacks arrived to fell her trees, or hunters arrived to see if they could enslave the fey who lived there. They dragged me far away from my Home before she arrived, lashing them with her thorny vines. She even captured a few, used them as her playthings."

Meredith continued drinking. The tea was the right temperature, brewed with the right spices, for just the right amount of time. It was intoxicating. And it| broke her focus from the emissary. How long has the moon been out, anyway?

"The Queen of Thorns didn't care about their lives, and she planned to encroach on the human settlement to make a statement. The Court decided she had overstepped her boundaries. But Queen Syntira took a gamble with you. Humanity is capable of great evil. But they also understand the value of life."

Meredith finished her cup and asked for another. Another, dammit. She could hear the mumbling of the grass under her, asking if she could roll over a bit. The trees were clapping. Vosk, and Chi, and... of course they would do that, they're in a Fey Court. At least Denair was taking care of Frankie (he's going to be in a bad mood tomorrow.)

Meredith looked at her visitor. "She... enslaved them?" Meredith shudders. "As her playthings? That... isn't me. This Queen of Thorns sounds better off dead. Queen Syntira did see the good in her, though. I hope she's right."

The emissary smiles. "She is right. But you are not. The Queen of Thorns is not dead. She merely sleeps, waiting for her chance to embrace humanity. Speaking of sleeping, it is time for your rest."

Meredith raises her hand, and then burps. Her breath reeks of tea, and she feels drowsy. She passes out right then and there, as a bed of roses springs forth to gently put her head to rest.

The emissary smiles. "Rest easy, my Queen."

Frankie stops, looking up at Denny with sticky fingers, mid chew on that weird, sprucy taffy that's sweetened with honey "Your home? Here? In a tree?" He takes another slow chew. Then another. Then stops, obviously processing things in his under developed brain. "Huh! Let's go!" Off he goes, kicking sticks and rocks out of the way, even a few mushrooms that happen to catch his eye.

The road ahead splits into mirror images of itself; trees, rocks and a softly burbling stream on opposite sides of a fork in the road. Arrows at the fork point both ways towards “Home.” Quang Chi stands alone in the middle of the road and sees two images of himself sitting beside that stream, one on each of the two possible paths. He cannot help but move forward, and he feels as if he is experiencing both versions of himself simultaneously.

To the left, the figure of the monk sits alone just off the path. There is a small pile of freshly turned soil in front of him, and his hands are covered in dirt.

He knows without knowing how he knows that this version of him had spotted something yellow under a bush. He thought it odd that he was able to sneak up on her but assumed she was simply very deeply asleep. He reached out to pet her on the back only to discover that she was stiff and cold.

That kind of cold.

She had succumbed to the palepox and curled up under the bush to rest and heal. She had found only rest. Eternal rest.

He buried her alongside the nearby stream. Was this Eausah’s stream? he thinks even as he observes himself. The teachings of sangpotshi say that the stream would carry her spirit to a new body. She would be rewarded with a better life in a higher form for having been the best cat she could be. It gave this Quang Chi only a little comfort.

Suddenly but without any jarring sensation, he feels himself in the monk of the right hand path. This monk is happy as he plays with a living Little Guì Fù. She leaps and spins as she tries to catch the ribbon he tied to an arrow. He laughs as she glares at him as if to accuse him of cheating by keeping it away.

He looks up as a lone figure approaches. At first he thinks it is Master Kae, but then it becomes one of the masked masters of the Decemvirate, only to change again and resolve itself into… Auntie Chao? She looks at him with the love of a stand-in mother, looks at his little friend with pity and caring, and holds out her hands.

He understands. He cannot keep a pet. Not with the travels and dangers he encounters in service to his disparate Masters. Not in the lifestyle he has chosen. For him there will only ever be separation from anyone he could love.

He awakens alone in a cold sweat in the hut in Falcon’s Hollow. He’s sure he’s just broken a fever, but was it a late reaction to the Basin’s disease or perhaps a lingering bit of Eausah’s fey death magic? He does not know.

Quang Chi rises and steps out of the hut to relieve himself. But he is more relieved to see a small orange cat sitting on her haunches just outside as if waiting for him to emerge. He scratches her head and picks her up for a much-needed hug.

”Would you like a new home, Little One? I promise that my Auntie will spoil you, and I will visit whenever I come to Almas.”

He assumes that the exuberant purring and head-butting means “Yes.” She rides on his shoulders as he goes about his day and stays there all the way back to Almas. Little Guì Fù is indeed welcomed by Mrs. Chao, who asks him if he will be lonely without the little friend who clearly adores him.

”No, Auntie. I am always alone. But never lonely,” he answers as he looks out the door at his teammates waiting patiently outside.

The night passes as each of you spend your time with the fey host engaged in revelry or quiet conversation and contemplation. When dawn arrives some of you find yourselves back in your bedrolls as though nothing happened and others wake in more unusual spots before stumbling out of the woods still in the grip of sleep inertia. The events of the previous evening are hazy but it's agreed that it was certainly no dream - the sign hanging upon Vosk's back is proof of that.

And though each of you experienced the fey visitation somewhat differently there is one memory that you all share - that of a young, slender willow tree standing in the grove's center, its' leaves and graceful branches trembling slightly.

But there was no wind or breeze to speak of.

"Humility cannot be achieved without first truly observing the world around you, beyond your own wants and desires," Queen Syntira's voice echoes in your memories.

It seems that the judgement of the fey is just as wonderful and terrible as they themselves are.
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While the immediate problem of the palepox has been dealt with you remain a few days longer in Falcon's Hollow to allow for Frankie to convalesce as well as to aid Laurel in the production of additional antiplague. Some of you, such as Annea and Meredith, also take the time to patrol the nearby Darkmoon Wood to ensure that there are no other modified flamebloom groves left unaccounted for. It's only when you agree that you've done everything possible to prevent any further outbreaks of palepox that you make your way back to Almaas to give your report to VC Brackett.

"Excellent," he smiles when the debriefing is finished. "You've succeeded beyond our wildest dreams, not only preventing what would have been a devastating outbreak but securing a new ally in Queen Syntira and returning Isandrea's Basin for study. Take some time for yourselves to rest up, agents - you deserve it!"

End: The Pallid Plague

Meredith sat at the head of the table, looking down at her crew. Denair served everyone tea from the Darkmoon Teapot. It always calmed Meredith down.

Derrik started. "The first day you came back boss, it was pretty good. You were right about the apple trees. So we add the fertilizer and my clothes are dirty, real stinky. So I take it off, take a bath, and then I look for my spare clothing. But my old clothes are clean. Folded up, spotless. Then I run downstairs to ask who cleaned my stuff. And then my belt falls off- and my pants too!"

The humans and elves stifle their chuckles, but the man opposite him breaks into laughter. "Oh, Mistress Meredith! You should have seen Derrik's face! He was so embarrassed! He didn't notice us cooking dinner, or encouraging the crops to grow, either."

"Cram it, bitty bop, I'm talking." Derrik points at the short blue skinned creature. "Who are they? Why are they here? Are they gonna take my job away? Are they replacing us, Meredith? After all we did for you?"

The blue creature scoffs. "The Queen herself invited us here. She said we could make a new life here for me and my friends. Mistress Meredith and her assistant Denair have been gracious hosts." He turns to bow at Meredith, almost falling over as he throws his torso forward. "But these humans- they can't take a joke. The young children love us, as do the animals, so why can't they lighten up?"

She can see Derrik's eyes, locked onto Bittyblue. "Calm down. Bittyblue and his family, as well as a few others, live at the farm. They're good at small tasks, and they are good at enhancing crops. But they can't harvest food, they can't bring the supplies we need and they certainly can't sell it in town." Derrik looks down at the table, lost in thought. "And your children are bored while you work, anyway."

"So I need both of you to work together, here. A week in and the tomato vines are more ripe than ever. We're going to have a huge harvest this year, and that's going to sell. Really well. We make money, we improve the farm, everyone wins." Meredith puts down her teacup. "Got it? Bittyblue, fewer pranks. Derrik, accept the fey help." She motions to them. Derrik grunts but he is the first to extend his hand to shake. Bittyblue wraps his hand around Derrik's finger and shakes that instead.

Derrik stands up, first. "Sorry Boss. It just- I'm not used to critters the size of house cats. I should get goin, anyway. My son's tired already, I gotta take him home and feed him before he falls asleep." He waves goodbye.

Bittyblue smiles. "Ah yes, Derrik's son ran all over the field looking for us. He did ask us to find the best places to hide. Thank you for arranging this meeting, Mistress. Humans aren't ready for pranks the way we are."

Meredith's farm grew from a job to a home to a town. She shook her head and poured more tea. A kingdom is built on growth through compromises. She grabbed her longspear and headed to the rosebush.

Denair thought a dryad would have sprung out at some point from the roses. It grew quickly enough, expanding from a sprout into a small patch Denair could hide in. Then she realized the thorns only moved away from her and no one else. Oh well, she enjoyed the privacy.

"Oh, hey Boss! Want to practice the Outflank manuever? I think you figured it out." Meredith nods and the two run around the roses, using the edges as target practice. Meredith thrusts her spear as Denair slams down, hitting at the same time. Meredith's timing gets closer to Denair's, and they act as one.

Meredith pauses for a bit. "Hold on, I'm exhausted. Man, this rose bush is huge. Smells nice, at least. I should make more rose water for the tea." Denair scuttles up to Meredith and lies down, and Meredith instinctively pets her fur. The Boss is a lot more calm.

"Oh jeez. Sorry Denair, I forgot to tell you. Before I met the delegate and she gave me the tea set. There was... someone told me to tell you hi. I couldn't see him. And then I got the tea, and all of this Queen of Thorns stuff made sense, and then the fey moved in and I've been dealing with that-"

Meredith catches herself. "I always feel comfortable talking to you, I sometimes ramble. Anyway. He said you knew him. He was like a whisper on the wind-" Meredith nearly jumps back as Denair suddenly springs up and grabs her arm, tightly clutching it.

"He didn't hurt you, did he? Did he talk about anyone else? Does he know-" She looks around to the bush, to the barn, to the trees. "Does he know about me?"

Denair stays at Meredith's side for the rest of the day, even when Meredith unfetters her. But the Boss doesn't understand her fear. No one does. Except for him. And that's the problem.

Swirling colors and raucous voices filled the Phulong sex-entertainment district of Katapesh. Outside of the bars, clubs and dance halls, beautiful girls in costumes matching the establishment’s theme worked as touts to entice customers in. They ran the gamut from girls in Tien costumes to barbarian princesses, Vudrani belly dancers, and everything in between.

On this warm night, a solitary man stood stock still, eyes closed and arms akimbo on the roof of The Naughty Wench gogo bar. Wearing an all-black outfit and soft-soled shoes he went unseen by the girls in their pirate costumes below. He carried a quiver on his back, but no bow was visible, and a bandoleer with a few small bottles crossed his broad, well muscled chest.

The bald man’s eyes opened suddenly, and he immediately began to race and jump from one rooftop to another finally landing in a 3-point stance. With the fingers of one hand splayed across the tiles and his other arm stretched straight back, he looked like an illustration from a martial arts handbook. As well he should, for Quang Chi was known in certain circles as much for his martial arts skills as for his bowmanship.

Close. She is verrrry close, he thought as his eyes scanned the rooftops. His magically enhanced senses prickled. There! Realizing where his quarry was, he frowned. Of course. I should have known, he thought, for without even realizing it he’d arrived at The Kitten Club.

Turo will not be happy to see me again, he considered as he surveyed the entrance and its enormous half-ogre/half-ettin bouncer. So perhaps he should not. Yet.

The monk silently dropped down into the alley behind the club and slipped in through the service door when the bus boy brought out another load of trash. The clanking of the empty beer bottles made enough noise to cover any mistakes he might make with his footing. Not that he did, of course. He made his way to a darkened table, watched the crowd, and looked for her.

”What are you doing here?” a female voice suddenly hissed in his ear. ”You *cannot* get caught in here,” the halfling woman said softly but urgently from behind him.

”The only one who could ever sneak up on me,” Quang Chi replied without turning to face her. ”A pleasure to see you too, Maharni.”

”Whatever. But seriously, Turo will kill you. Why are you here?” she asked, but from her sad tone it was clear she already knew why. ”I can’t go with you. I owe them too much. And they’d certainly never let me leave here with you of all people,” she insisted.

”I am here because your parents asked me to find you. And because your sister asked me, also.”

”Tabita asked you? You?” Maharni replied incredulously. ”What’s happened that she forgave you enough to even speak to you?” she asked worriedly.

The monk didn’t answer with words, but instead withdrew a tiny cat carved in pearl from the bandoleer pouch centered over his heart. As he did, he heard Maharni’s choked cry.

”No. No. No. She can’t be. She’s too young.” As she started to sob, she pulled herself back deeper into the shadows. ”I can’t go. They’ll kill me. They’ll hunt me down. They’ll kill Tabita. If they find her before she… before she dies. They’ll kill my parents; everyone knows my parents back home. I can’t. I can’t....”

Quang Chi waited while Maharni cried it out, not turning toward her, not offering even a word of condolence lest he betray her location. The waitress brought him a drink, and a few dancers sashayed towards him, but he made himself look disinterested and they passed on by. Fortunately all of them were new enough that they didn’t recognize him from the last time he'd been here what seemed like ages ago. He wasn’t ready to face Turo again quite yet. Not until Maharni was ready to leave with him anyway.

When he noted that the crying had finally stopped, he held his tongue until she stepped out of the shadows. She stood tall with a look of determination on her face. ”What’s the plan?” she asked him, fire in her eyes instead of tears.

”Ah, there she is,” Quang Chi said with a wide smile. ”The Pathfinder agent I once knew. Thief, spy, trap-springer.” He reached into the smallest pouch of his quiver and continued. ”Mistress of the double daggers,” he finished, revealing a pair of matched ebony-handled black-steel daggers.

Her gasp was audible enough to catch the attention of one of the other girls. Quang Chi saw the look of recognition that flashed in the dancer’s eyes and knew they had no time left.

”Where did you…” Maharni began as Quang Chi suddenly rose from the table and swept around her to face the front door.

”Too many questions, Xiao Shu,” he chided her teasingly with her old nickname. ”But I have one for you instead.” Calling upon all of his mystical powers as he made his way toward the front door, he asked, ”Are you ready to see Turo humbled?”

Oh, he will *definitely* not be happy to see me.

---------------------------------

”How long does she have?” Maharni finally asked in a quiet voice as she put the bandages and healing supplies away. He’d certainly humbled Turo, but that didn’t mean the ex-gladiator-cum-Aspis-muscle hadn’t gotten in a few good licks, too. In the end, they’d forced the Kitten Club and its Aspis owners to acquiesce to their simple demand that Maharni wouldn’t be hunted unless she failed to pay off her debts. Then Quang Chi had simply paid them off with the proceeds of his last mission in the Darkmoon Vale of Andoran. The pair walked away with their heads held high to the cheers of the crowd that had gathered expecting to see him get torn limb from limb.

”Long enough for you to get home,” he answered solemnly. ”They weren’t sure beyond that. I have friends - healers - who are attending to her.”

”Thank you,” she said as she kissed him on the forehead. ”For taking care of Tabita. For taking care of Turo. For taking care of my debts.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. ”For taking care of me.”

As Maharni pulled Quang Chi to her, she accidentally bumped his injured elbow. He didn’t complain, but the look he shot her spoke volumes. It spoke of friendship, camaraderie, and caring. It spoke silently of the adventures they’d shared together, of the friends they’d made, and of the friends they’d lost. It even spoke of something close to love, though neither of them would ever use that word. Volumes of stories already written, and volumes yet to be told.

My Enemy's Enemy

It’s a cold twilight in the Dockway, and the salt-sprayed streets still teem with activity. A young city guard stands outside an ornately decorated storefront, the window frame adorned with baroque carvings of wild vines and flowers - The Dryad’s Trousseau. You find yourselves here at the request of Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch to investigate a crime - and not just any crime. No, this crime is not only the most recent in a slew of robberies that have taken place in the Dockway but yet another crime that, rumor has it, was perpetrated by none other than the Pathfinder Society themselves.

The guard glances around to make sure no one is lingering within earshot and then addresses you. "Oye, Pathfinders. Glad you all came so quick. Here’s the latest place robbed, this afternoon by a group dressed like your lot. The shopkeep is laid up in the flat upstairs - his landlady’s taking care of him. She thinks it was Pathfinders, too, but I talked her into speaking with you."

He knocks on a narrow door to the right of the shop entrance. "Look, I know you Pathfinders are all right. Cap’n Heidmarch’s done good in this city, so I’m happy to help you start sortin’ out what’s behind these crimes. But public opinion is goin’ south. The sooner you figure out who the guilty parties are, the better. Good luck."

The guard nods and departs just as a scowling elderly woman opens the door. "Right. You come to explain why your gang beat up poor Mr. Chert?"

The days at the farm are good. Bittyblue and the fair folk sang to the crops and Meredith has scored her biggest yield yet. Derrick and the crew are selling goods at a steady pace. Some of Derrick's crew have moved to the farm, building small shacks to sleep in and taking a pay cut in exchange. People are talking about Meredith's Farm and how it is its own town. Meredith laughs it off, but she knows it's happening one way or another.

Lately, rumors swell about darker motives. She's harboring fey criminals to steal from her neighbors. She's driving the other farms out of business so she can absorb their land for cheap. Some nymph has her roots in Meredith's hair, brainwashing her to the fey's whim. The Pathfinder Society is stealing and she's storing their ill-gotten goods. The summons from Sheila Heidmarch could not have come at a better time.

It's too convenient, though. Maybe this is another test by the Queen. Meredith urges Bittyblue and Derrick to stick to the schedule. She gets Denair and Frankie ready to find this thief.

---

Cold, back in the Dockway. Meredith can never escape the bar life. When she's overstimulated she can stay there and stay quiet- the drunks usually leave Denair alone. But here she is to find a lead.

Step one: Calm the angry witness. "We're trying to figure that out. Pathfinders don't attack people like this. Someone is making a fool of us, and we need to find out why." She smiles.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14

"Maybe you could help us and tell us what you saw. I could heal Mr. Chert, by the way."

Quang Chi stands alone at the ship's railing watching the white-capped waves on the journey to Magnimar. Tabita's funeral had left him emotionally drained. As much as he cared for Maharni, it had been time to go. Too much togetherness on top of the strain of Tabita's demise had taken its toll on him.

He'd not yet met the legendary Captain Heidmarch, and it would also be good to see his friends again. But he could not shake the gray cloud that hung over him. What was he feeling exactly? Regret at leaving Maharni? Disappointment that he could not do more for Tabita? A sense of dread that something would go wrong with this next mission? A simple desire to hold a certain yellow cat? Certainly a little of all of these, and maybe something else that he could not quite put his finger on.

{Sigh} I am letting the monkeys run rampant through my mind. I will be of no use to my teammates like this. Time to clear my head. He turns and unexpectedly finds one of the ship's security troopers passing by. Their friendly sparring session does indeed clear away the monkeys from Quang Chi's mind.

But a few of them cling tenaciously on, and his mood is noticeably more somber than usual when he arrives in the Dockway.

Quang Chi says nothing to the understandably aggravated woman. Instead he attempts to gain access to the shop, hoping to perhaps find some clues as to who truly did this.

Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.

These are better than I remember... Eeep! Someone's coming! Frankie tosses something behind the tree and into the pig's pen then wipes his face off quick. "Oh hi Meredith! We going some where's again? Sounds fun, I'll get Denny." Frankie races off, nearly lapping his invisible friends in his own personal foot race down to the carrot field.

"DENNY! WE'RE GOING ON A TRIP. LET'S GOOOO!"

Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17 Yoink!

A pair of orange roots disappear up Frankie's sleeve, he shakes out the dirt as Denny flies over. "I'm not sure where those ground hogs are Denny, but it looks like they got two more carrots!" He points to the fresh holes in the ground, shrugs and drags his friend off to see Meredith.

----------

Frankie doesn't really like boat rides, at least that's what he says. What he does like though is exploring the boats from top to bottom. No space is too tight. No mast too tall, and no kitchen too well locked for the likes of Frankie. He hasn't yet lost a game of dice or marbles either.. at least one he didn't mean to lose on purpose. "Nope Mr Captain, I haven't the foggiest clue what happened to the cook's favorite marmalade. Or those cookies. Nope."

----------

Frankie stood outside, staring at the walls, covered in carved plants and vines. Huh. Look at those, neat! Then he hears it: his quarry, his specialty! Being harassed by an annoyed Meredith. How can he talk to an old lady like that? Doesn't she know?

Frankie steps from behind his red headed parental figure "HI! I'm Frankie! I'm cold, can we come in and warm up?"
Diplomacy: 10 + 15 = 25

The surly landlady hurriedly places herself between Quang Chi and the door as he moves to try and head inside. "Now wait just a minute! Just because I told that guard I'd speak to you doesn't mean you just get to go wherever you please! Now tell me, what do you and your gang have to say for yourselves, beating up a nice man like Mr. Chert?"

Her demeanor is quite unfriendly...but quickly softens when presented with the picture of innocence that is Frankie. "Why hello, child!" she smiles, in spite of herself. "You're a Pathfinder? You seem mighty young for such work." She sighs and shakes her head. "Children these days, they grow up too quickly..."

Though it seems as though she might be about launch into a new rant, the woman shakes her head again and now looks at Meredith. "You have some healer training, missy? Hmm...I s'pose it'd be a rather strange gang to beat someone up and then send another group round to patch him up again! I think even Pathfinders would have more sense than that. So, if you think you can help him, I'll let you inside to see him - and into the shop too, if that will help you any."

Apologies; the description of the scene is a bit murky. Right now you're standing at the entrance to the building where Mr. Chert actually lives and his shop is directly across the street from there.

Hehe, yeah, I'm having to deal with a similar editorial inconsistency in my Grandmaster's Name games.

"Apologies, ma'am," Quang Chi says with a quick small bow. He's chagrined that his distracted state had almost inflamed an already tense situation.

"While my friends help Mr. Chert, I could please look at where the attack happened? It was in the shop, yes?"

Denair checks her arms, her legs, her trunk... well, she seems mostly alright. Helping Bittyblue, Frankie and the farm kept her busy. And she didn't have to think about Meredith's visitor. It was a welcome distraction.

"Hey boss. I'm gonna help Chi look around the shop for clues."

Vosk stands proudly at the prow of the Lushest Eclair. Shoulders back, he looks out through a long telescope as the wind ruffles what's left of his rapidly fading hair. Magnimar, eh? Just another city to dig my fingers into!

The sausages that are said fingers make the telescope look more like a toy than a serious navigational tool. What will it be this time? Macaroons? Crepes? Scones? Perhaps even a high tea? This dump won't even know what hit it!

A man, fixed with all the accouterments of a butler, clears his throat. "I do beg your pardon Baronet Lazav, I know how you so hate to be interrupted during your, erhm, posturing time, but you do have a date to keep with the Pathfinder Society at the The Dryad’s Trousseau. A Mr. Chert has been given a walloping in their name and Venture-Captain Heidmarch has asked if you would clear the air," he explains.

With a sigh, Vosk collapses the telescope and tosses it to the butler. What a petite mousse she is, mmm! "Very well, what would the Society do without me, really?" About time they called on me, we've been docked for hours! Sagging under his weight, he saunters across the gangplank and is quickly lost in the crowd.
___

"I have arrived, please, calm yourselves!" Vosk announces as he pushes into the store. The jewels encrusting his hand, absent from the prior trek into Falcon's Hollow, shimmer in the sun's rays, as do the lush furs of his cloak. "Please, madam, step aside while the professionals work." Although he looks around too, he was clearly referring to everyone else.
________
Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
If possible, Vosk would like to buy a Book of Letters for Magnimar please!

"Poor Mr Chet!" Sympathizes Frankie to the woman, he grabs her hand and tugs on it. "How about we make some yummie cocoa and cookies to help him feel better?" Suggests the little sugar fiend.

Frankie's goal(s) are to distract the woman so people can easily do what needs to be done with interviewing the man, and of course, get his hands on some fresh cookies and cocoa. He'll go with the others when they investigate the shop though for sure!

"Sure, suit yourselves," the woman shrugs as she steps across the street to unlock the shop door. "Name's Abigail Soap, by the way. Thank you again for looking into this mess. This isn't the first time something like this has happened around here and, well, rumor has it the Pathfinders are involved. So please, forgive me for being a mite suspicious of you lot at first."

With the shop now unlocked, Quang Chi, Vosk, and Denair are free to head on inside and investigate while Frankie and Meredith move to go with Mrs. Soap to see what they can do for Mr. Chert...
______________

Going to give Zirt a little more time to post, make introductions (if they wish), and let me know which group she's going with and then I'll get some post up to address each of you accordingly~

Apologies — here I am!

Just as the groups disappear into the home and shop, there's a high-pitched yell from down the street: "Waaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!"

Anyone who happens to look out sees a massive grizzly bear making its lumbering way down the street as passersby scatter left and right. Riding atop the bear is a smiling (and slightly anxious-looking) gnome, patting the bear's head with one hand while trying to use the other to urge it to greater speed. A few paces away from the bear, a large, fluffy dog trots next to a vicious-looking wolverine and an even larger short-haired dog which ripples with muscle as it moves. A tiny serpent peers out from behind the gnome curiously, beady black eyes glittering with intelligence in its fox-like head.

As the menagerie reaches the doors, the gnome hops gracefully down from the bear's shoulders and smiles at everyone—and anyone—who happens to be watching. Taking in the situation with big innocent eyes, the gnome claps her hands together and smiles at the landlady.

"Oh, hello! I'm so sorry I'm late, I came as quickly as I could, but Jadrek here"—she pats the bear on its foot fondly—"decided to eat an entire cauldron of stew last night and four biscuits, even though I told him it wasn't a good idea. Bears are such silly creatures! And Gregarious and Tseka were arguing about which of them I'd ride over here, and so I couldn't ride either, you know how dogs are. I am glad you heard me before you got inside and closed the door! These houses have such thick walls, I don't know if you would have ever heard me knocking, and poor Tseka has very sensitive hearing, you know."

The gnome's eyes light momentarily on the doorframe, and she shakes her head. "Oh dear, Jadrek, you'll never fit in there. And you two—no, no, I think Benedict had better come with me. Tseka, Gregarious, Jadrek, you stay outside and guard dear old Mister Chert, so nothing else happens to him!"

So saying, the small gnome motions to the wolverine and moves inside, looking all around as though she's never seen a shop before.

"Oh. Hi!" Denair drops on her knees and faces the newcomer. "I'm Denair. My boss Meredith is upstairs with Mister Chert. What's your name?" Denair extends a wooden hand towards the gnome, offering a gentle handshake.

She looks up at the menagerie of animals and her vulpine jaw pulls up, like she's smiling. "I see you help your friends. You should have come with us before- we were in the Darkmoon Vale, it was fun! I'll tell you about it later, though. Right now we have to look for clues!"

While Denair no longer has her leafy wings, she simply lifts herself above the ground and takes a look around the shop. She wants to be there, she's there.
Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (20) + 16 = 36

As Meredith fumbles with her words, Frankie just smiles and earns them entry. What is it with Frankie and his charm? He's always getting into places he shouldn't. How many times has Frankie just... appeared mid mission?

And now Vosk just marches up and demands an inspection. Meredith has so many questions. But first, she checks up on Mister Chert.

UMD: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21
Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

That should take care of all the surface injuries, but if there's anything deeper...

Heal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
She has no idea what she's doing here. Hopefully someone else is a healer.

---
Once the healing is finished, Meredith heads back to the rest of the team.

"Hey Vosk, can I ask you something? I've been working on my... mannerisms and I've noticed: People just listen to you. You walk in with your-" Meredith struggles to find the right word to describe him- "presence, and act like you own the place. And people agree."

If Humans could purr, you're confident Vosk would be, based on the way he smiles and looks back at Meredith. "Haha! My 'presence' surely can't be missed!" he agrees, slapping his ample belly. "A showman never reveals his secrets, but for you..." he winks at Meredith. "Perhaps I'll make an exception."

"Physical size certainly helps," he admits. "But the best piece of advice I can give you is to fake it until you make it. Pretend you own the place and most people can't help but to act accordingly! Much of the work is subconscious, but who pauses to question their actions when they've just been told what to do?" he explains, when a stray ray of sunlight catches more of his jewelry.

"Of course, the trappings of nobility don't hurt..." he says, pausing to admire his attire. "But I digress. Fake it until you believe it yourself. Once you've made it habit to believe you're superior, just about everyone else falls in line." In Kaer Maga you can't even stand in the bread line without an aura of confidence!

"Once you've come to grips with that gem, I'll add another to your finger, deal?" he concludes, raising an intrigued eyebrow at the woman. There is something special about you, but what is it? You know how to act, you almost carry yourself right, yet it is as though you're working from a memory that's just out of focus. How peculiar...

Okay folks, don't get too far ahead of yourselves with your posting :)

Denair, Quang Chi, Vosk, Zirt

While Meredith and Frankie go with Mrs. Soap in order to see about Mr. Chert while the rest of the group opt to get a head start on looking around in the shop across the street. Zirt opts to leave the majority of her menagerie waiting outside, much to the unease of the local citizenry who make a very wide berth around the bear and pair of dogs.

The Dryad’s Trousseau is one of a series of shops tucked into the back streets that serve the Dockway’s waterfront. A display window filled with colorful, hardy blooms fills the front of the store. The sign displayed in the window reads “The Dryad’s Trousseau, Exotic Flora. Proprietor, Elias Chert.” A sturdy wooden front door leads to the shop’s atrium. On the building’s east side, a narrow alleyway runs north to a delivery entrance.

With Mrs. Soap having unlocked the door for you all, it's an easy enough matter to head on in. Just inside the front door is an overturned planter the size of a washtub, emblazoned with the word 'Antaios'. Soil mixed with bits of broken pottery is spilled across the hardwood floor. To the north, an ornately decorated fifteen-foot-wide archway allows passage to the shop’s display floor. A sales counter fills the eastern side of the room, and behind it stand several bookshelves filled with horticultural tomes as well as a wooden door leading further to the east. A stoppered flask lies in plain sight in the middle of the floor.

Dryad's Trousseau

*edit* No problem on the Book of Letters, Vosk.

Meredith & Frankie

As the others head off to the shop the two of you accompany Mrs. Soap into her dwelling. When Frankie suggests that they make cookies and cocoa to help Mr. Chert feel better she shakes her head ruefully as she ushers everyone up a steep set of stairs.

"Oh that's a lovely idea child but I think what Mr. Chert needs most right now is probably some rest and a healer's touch. And maybe some soup..."

She stops at a door just past the top of the stairs and gently knocks, likely more out of habit and an ingrained sense of courtesy than anything, before opening the door and leading Meredith and Frankie through a small flat to the bedside of the ailing man. Elias Chert is a broad-shouldered, robust man in his late 50s. At present, his only obvious injury seems to be bruising and a small, bandaged cut on his arm. Despite the minor nature of his wounds, Chert seems gravely ill, sweating profusely and muttering to himself.

"I did what I could for that cut but it doesn't seem to have helped much," Mrs. Soap explains, her brow crinkled with worry. "It's almost as though he's caught a fever - but why or from what I can't imagine."

"Antaios...Antaios...No...Antaios..." Chert mumbles, shaking his head fitfully.

Though Meredith is able to use a bit of magic to fully heal the cut on his arm and the bruises he'd suffered, she's unable to make any sense of why he fails to rouse from his fever state or why he's in such a state to begin with.

You need a DC 12 Heal check to learn more about his condition, should Frankie wish to give it a try.

Perception, Take 10: 10 + 15 = 25

Quang Chi steps carefully past the soil and broken pottery bits while letting his eyes take in the scene.

A dealer of plants. For medicinal purposes or decoration? I don't think that the Varisians practice flower arranging as the Tian-Min do.

He picks up the stoppered flask and hands it to Vosk. "Is it magical, my friend?"

Just then a gnome and a wolverine enter the shop. Though unusual, the monk is not entirely surprised.

"Hello, I am Quang Chi," he greets them both with a polite bow to each, not taking the chance that perhaps the wolverine might also speak Taldane.

@Meredith: You've seen QC use the Heal skill here in the Tomb if you need help.

Frankie lets out a bit of a stifled, disappointed breath as his hope for cookies and fresh cocoa evaporate. "Ok, maybe later then." His feet clomp up steep stairs as his eyes dart around the hall for things of interest.

"Hi Mr Chert, I'm Frankie and this is Meredith. We're here to help you feel better!" While Meredith heals up the man's scratches, Frankie pokes at the man gently with a nearby coat hanger. "He's all sweaty, and who's Antaios?"

Heal: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17

Strangely enough, Frankie's underdeveloped brain picks up on something. "Did you know I had the plague a few weeks ago Ms Soap?" He takes a step closer to the woman and shows her his still slightly scarred palms. He smiles "Its ok, I got better!" He chuckles a bit, knowing full well the joke he pulled on her.

"Anyways, we hung out around some good healers while we saved the world from the plague, AND... I remember them talking about stuff like this..." He goes on to describe what he thinks is going on. "I might have something that could help!" He pulls out a small bottle with a smiley face written on it.

Inserted the only way I could think Frankie would know! If he thinks it could work, Frankie would feed the man either an antitoxin or antiplague. He's got 1 of each.

Meredith looks at the man, curiously. "I can handle the surface level injuries, but... he might have a fever or something. Let me talk to Chi, but Frankie has a good idea."

She heads down to the shop where everyone is examining a liquid flask. "Maybe I can figure something out?"

Spellcraft with Guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 9 + 1 = 29
"Well, at least I can be useful here. It's a potion of Rage. But it's been diluted? Hmm..."

"Be my guest," Vosk says with a shrug as Meredith takes the offered flask. He scans the rest of the room for magic.

"Baronet Vosk Lazav," he says to Zirt (definitely not the wolverine), extending an arm out to his side with a flourish of the wrist. "I don't hold Agents to formalities, but you should know all the same."

He peers at the overturned tub from all angles. "Mrs. Soap, do tell, Antaios is important, because..." he insists with his hand for the woman to finish his sentence.

"True, he does not stand of formalities. But if you do use his title, do not mess it up," Quang Chi advises the newcomer in a quiet whisper.

"Meredith, how is Mr. Chert?" He looks around behind her. "Did you leave the boy with him? Alone?" he asks somewhat alarmed at the potential mischief Frankie could get into.

"Oh right. Chi, can you see what's going on with Mister Chert? I healed his immediate injuries, but there's something going on with him. Frankie had some... good ideas." She shrugs as she observes the potion.

Zirt claps her hands gleefully at the wooden-armed talking fox-thing, nearly forgetting to accept its proffered hand. "Oh my! Will you tell me the story of you and this Meredith Boss? I've never seen anyone like you! Though, there was one time my aunt's sister—" She breaks off as the door opens onto the shop and she spots the disarray within.

"Oh dear..." she whispers, her eyes wide as saucers. "Poor Mister Chert. So many beautiful plants! Why would anyone want to hurt someone who grows plants? Why, look, he even has Bordik root! I didn't even know that grew here! It makes a lovely tea, you know, and it's even better if you mix it with Snurkin's Fist in not-quite-equal proportions."

Busily talking of tea, the gnome nods politely, if a bit distractedly, at Quang Chi's bow. The wolverine, however, raises its head from sniffing the floor and gives the monk a long look. It might be coincidence... except that a moment later it raises its head and bares one sharp fang at the Baronet when excluded from his greeting. Benedict does, in fact, understand Common. ;)

Zirt, meanwhile, trails off and glances between Vosk and Quang Chi in confusion. "Er. Hello!" Seeming to catch her balance, she smiles at both of them, then directs her curiosity at Vosk. "I do hope you'll pardon me if I ask you what an Onet is! And you'll have to say hello to my friend Jadrek outside, because I guess you're cousins! Do you turn into a bear all the way, or only partially? And can you control it? Do you find that having "Bear" in your title... oh dear. Oh dear me, I'm being very rude. My mother used to warn me about being rude..."

Putting one dainty hand up to her mouth, she glances around the room in consternation, as if not sure whether she should run away.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Meredith moves up to Zirt, with Denair politely nudging her.

"Okay, okay Denair, I see her." Meredith looks down and extends a hand. "Hello, I'm Meredith. And these are your friends?" She turns to Zirt's companions inside the store. "Um... hello. What are their names? I was kind of busy, upstairs."

"Are you good at diagnosing ailments? The man upstairs is... it's not physical injury. Also, this potion is like a watered down rage potion. Not sure what's going on there."

"Oh, hello!" replies the gnome, smiling happily to meet someone else. Seeing Meredith's companion, Zirt's eyes light up. "Hello! You must be Meredith the Boss! I'm Zirt! Well, really my name is... well, never mind, Zirt is fine actually. Most people have a hard time pronouncing my name. Why, even my Aunt Sally sometimes has trouble. She usually just calls me Zirt, too. And this is Benedict, and the ones outside are Jadrek, Gregarious, and Tseka."

"Oh, and this is Yrishi," she adds with a gesture at the tiny fox-headed snake-thing peering out from behind her ear.

At the woman's question, the gnome shakes her head wryly. "Not really," she replies, "but I could look at him, I suppose..."

The gnome's hesitation is clearly unpracticed.

Heal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

There still seems to be some confusion - Mrs. Soap and Chert are not with the group that went to the shop. They are in the apartment across the street from the shop. To make things easier and avoid people running back and forth, I'm going to say that Meredith comes to fetch the rest of you (identifying the potion in the process) and everyone is now in the same place, at Mr. Chert's bedside. When you're done speaking with Mrs. Soap and examining Mr. Chert and everyone is ready, we can resume exploration of the shop.

There's an initial flurry of activity as some of you investigate the front area of the shop and others try to see to Mr. Chert. While Meredith isn't able to glean anything useful about Mr. Chert's condition, Frankie has a surprising flash of insight as he looks at the man - the man has somehow suffered damage to both his bodily health as well as his state of mind. Luckily, the damage doesn't seem to be permanent and Frankie guesstimates that he should recover on his own with several days of bed rest. Or maybe one of his magical friends could help? It doesn't seem like something that could be fixed with antiplague or antitoxin, sadly.

Chert has suffered Wisdom and Constitution damage.

It's about this time that Meredith returns with the rest of the group, with everyone crowding around Chert's bedside. Frankie is able to relay what he learned to the rest of you and Zirt can confirm it with her own examination of the man.

"Oh goodness, it got crowded in here," Mrs. Soap remarks as she squeezes past Vosk. "Wait...is that a badger?"

Luckily Vosk is able to quickly redirect the landlady's attention by inquiring as to who or what 'Antaios' might be. "Antaios...? Oh! That's what Elias named his prized topiary," she answers. "I'm not sure why he gave it a name but it's his prized plant. He's very particular about its care, right down to the amount of water and sunlight he gives it. As I said, I don't understand it myself but to each their own, eh? And I have to admit, he did a good job shaping it - it looks just like one of those big jungle cats!"

There's a bit of a pause and then Mrs. Soap coughs awkwardly. "Everybody’s been talking about how what's been stolen of late's been old statues and books and junk. And everyone knows that your lot's always got an eye out for that sort of thing. I even found one of them ‘way-show-ers’ you Pathfinders are always carrying, smashed on the ground right aside Mr. Chert," she explains as she pulls a broken wayfinder from her pocket and sheepishly offers it to you. "That's why I thought it was your gang that broke into the shop."

While the wayfinder doesn't seem to have a name on it the case does indeed bear the Glyph of the Open Road.

Vosk sighs and shakes his head. Society is shockingly filled with simpletons, the uncultured, or those cursed with a simultaneous affliction. Pulling a wand from his sleeve, he creates a visual aid for Zirt. "See now? Baronet, not Bear-onet or Baronette, for that matter," he explains, adjusting the visual to match his emphasized words.

"Mrs. Soap, I can't help but to recall that this well-shaped topiary was missing from my brief observation of the store... Was it one of the taken items?" he asks while inspecting the Wayfinder.
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Spellcraft (T10) vs Wayfinder?: 10 + 15 = 25
Attempting to ID the Wayfinder, in case it isn't a real one/cursed/etc. One charge from Silent Image wand for the spelling lesson ;)

Quang Chi continues to hang back outside of Mr. Chert's room. Though he'd planned to help examine the man, it seems that Frankie (!) and their new teammate had it covered.

He squats down and extends the back of his hand to Benedict as he did when he first met his little cat friend in Andoran. As he (presumably) sniffs the monk's hand, something occurs to Quang Chi.

"Benedict, could you follow the thief's scent trail from the shop?" he asks, pointedly ignoring Vosk's raised eyebrow look as he speaks to the wolverine in Common.

Frankie puffs out his little chest as word travels around that HE was the first to help figure out how poor Mr Chert was sick "Yup, can't help it if I'm a fast learner and all!" He gets a bit braggadocios, but with swagger like that who'd know he was playing it up just a little bit?

Bluff, To Fool: 1d20 + 16 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 16 + 1 = 36

About this time he notices the bear in the street. And then "Is that a dog or a mop? And ANOTHER DOG?" Frankie quickly rushes closer to pet the animals, wishing he too had remembered to bring his dog along. And the pet pigeon... let's not be reminded of the now bird skeleton Pidgy STILL tucked away in his backpack.

"Who brought all these nice pets? I love pets! Oh, and a Gnome... maybe it was you? I'm Frankie!" He waves at Zirt through the doorway, then goes back to trying to pet animals.

Handle Animal vs Bear: I WILL PET YOU!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Handle Animal vs Fluffy Dog: I WILL PET YOU!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Handle Animal vs Short Hair Dog: I WILL PET YOU!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"Hmm, I do have a scroll of lesser restoration around." Meredith digs through her backpack. "Can anyone use these naturally? I can try, but it's unlikely."

If no one is capable, it's time for UMD spam. Meredith lacks the Wisdom to use the scroll, so she has to fake having a 11 Wisdom (DC 26!) AND using a scroll (DC 23). Looks like I roll for the scroll first (applying Guidance) and then I emulate. I'll stop when I roll a 1 or I make both checks.

Scroll: 1d20 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 10 + 1 = 12

Okay, then.

"Ow." A spark zaps Meredith's hand and she recoils. "Maybe tomorrow."

Quang Chi rises from his chat with the wolverine as he hears Meredith struggling with the scroll. He steps into the crowded room and gently places a hand on her shoulder.

"May I?" he asks simply as he slips the scroll from her fingers.

Hmm, this is slightly more advanced than I expected. No matter, focus and concentration is not something I lack, he thinks as he peruses the magical text. As he does, his free hand absentmindedly rubs his wayfinder for a little luck (guidance)

Quang Chi takes a deep centering breath and begins the incantation. The words roll off of his tongue, and he almost stumbles on one but catches himself quickly enough. He can tell the magic is still flowing so he presses on. When he finishes, he pauses a moment to watch with a small amount of wonderment as the words fade away from the vellum.

CL vs DC 4: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4
Whew! just enough

Restores: 1d4 ⇒ 4 points to 1:Con or 2:Wis: 1d2 ⇒ 2

Lesser Resto is on the Hunter class list, but it is a 2nd level spell, hence the CL check.

Benedict tilts his head ever so slightly at Quang Chi, then drops his nose to the ground and begins sniffing intently. Not sure he'd be able to tell which scent is the thief's... unless perhaps that Wayfinder has the thief's scent on it...

Zirt beams at the gnome-sized human, though her eyes widen as he refers to her friends as "pets". "Be careful!" she exclaims, "they aren't pets!!"

As the boy charges in his direction, Jadrek the massive grizzly raises himself on his hind legs and makes a very loud blowing noise, then clacks his teeth together equally loudly! When the boy continues forward, the big bear turns and runs headlong down the street, stopping four buildings down and huffing loudly. Listen around 0:34 for blowing+clacking. :)

The big fluffy dog wags its tail wildly and runs over to Frankie, giving him a sloppy lick right across his face and then leaning into the boy (and likely nearly knocking him over in the process). The short-haired dog's ears stand up straight and its hackles rise, but Frankie's gentle approach soothes it and it finally lets him scratch its chest, giving a sedate, dignified wag of its tail in response.

"Mrs. Soap, I can't help but to recall that this well-shaped topiary was missing from my brief observation of the store... Was it one of the taken items?" he asks while inspecting the Wayfinder.

"To be honest, I'm not sure," the landlady answers with a helpless shrug. "I try to avoid the shop as much as I can 'cause I break out in the biggest hives if I get near all the flowers," she scowls.

Vosk's examinations of the broken wayfinder reveal that it is, in fact, a true wayfinder and not some well-done forgery. It seems to be the basic sort of wayfinder though, rather than one of the more unique ones that some agents sometimes carry.

Just a bog-standard busted wayfinder~

But just when you think that perhaps the wayfinder is going to be a dead-end lead, Mrs. Soap suddenly looks over towards the door where Quang Chi, Frankie, and Zirt's menagerie are hanging out. "That's a...a huntin' critter, there?" she asks, indicating Benedict. "If it is, then maybe this thing'll be of help! Y'see, when I got to the shop I saw one of those thieves was pullin’ Elias out the front door. Little fella was draggin’ Elias by his shoulders. It was then I seen him drop the ‘way-show-er.’ And, uh, come to think of it, it kinda looked like he threw the thing down on purpose."

The woman looks rather embarrassed by this admission, but it's another helpful clue - if the wayfinder came from one of the actual thieves then maybe it *can* be used as a means of tracking them down.

Meanwhile, Meredith and Quang Chi attempt to do what they can to relieve Elias Chert of some of the damage he suffered from what must've been a poison or perhaps fell magic. Though Meredith has little luck in getting her scroll to activate Quang Chi just manages to get it to work, restoring the ailing man's lost wisdom. Chert immediately seems to emerge from his delirium, but just as quickly falls into a deep, restful sleep from which he probably shouldn't be woken.

"Oh, thank the heavens!" Mrs. Soap exclaims, clapping her hands together with delight as well as relief. "Whatever you did, mister, it seems to have worked like a charm!"
______________

Attempts to wake Mr. Chert are unsuccessful *but* anyone who examines him can tell that he's in much better shape now and mainly just needs to rest to restore his Con damage. What now? Back to the shop? Or perhaps something else?

"Oh. Er... thank you, Mrs. Soap. Mister Chert should recover after a few days rest." She glances at the man, then back to Mrs. Chert. "If one of the attackers threw the wayfinder down like that, then maybe they don't understand the significance of them."

She looks at Benedict, then at Zirt. "Maybe we can try to track the attackers. Zirt, can you ask Benedict to smell around? If not I can augment Denair."

Meredith can use Survival at a +8 bonus to try to follow the trail of the attackers. She can grant Denair scent via Lesser Evolution Surge but it only lasts for 7 minutes.