GM Mikkel's homebrew Pathfinder campaign in a militarized magic setting [Completed] (Inactive)

Game Master Mikkel Madsenn

The private smiles but makes no move to salute her and says, "Pleasure to meet you, sergeant. Private Zahan."

He eyes the room of waiting civilians and says softly to her, "You've no idea. The southern contingent finally sees some action and I'm here babysitting the would-be volunteers."

Private Zahan leans in to whisper to Dulae, "Well, Wizard Fairhurst pushed to get volunteers to staff some searches, but the captain has say over who, see? And she turns at least half of them away. So I figure... "

Just then, the double doors open and the civilian group Dulae had first seen emerges, looking tired.

Private Zahan quickly says to Dulae, "Just a minute," and steps into the room.

After a minute, a calm, authoritative voice calls from within, "Enter."

Zahan exits the room and waves her in with an encouraging smile.

Before the doors close behind her, Dulae hears the private announce to the civilians waiting in the room, "Thank you all for coming, but we're done for the day now. If you'd like to volunteer, please be back after dawn and..."

The room is expectedly spacious, with two small doors leading to private offices. But in stark contrast to the usual meticulous order of a ranking officer's office, it is a chaotic mess. Dulae can see piles of scrolls, books, and papers spilled over desks, some stained carelessly with ink. She can see magic items commonly used by the military scattered on desks and the floor, including the biggest pile of teleportation orbs** she has ever seen. The mess indicates to Dulae that this wizard, Fairhurst, must outrank the captain in the military hierarchy.

Dulae sees a man in his late 40s of average stature and a scholarly build in high-ranking wizard's robes wiping tiredly at his eyes as his enters one of the private offices. Three young women and men sit at desks pouring over papers and scrolls with tense expressions. Dulae knows these are likely the wizard's apprentices.

Directly in front of Dulae is the commanding form of the captain of the southern contingent. She looks to be in her mid-50s and she is resplendent in the silver celestial armor of high-ranking paladins, complemented with a rich Altien-blue cloak. "I am Captain Jaya Vazquez. Your papers, please."

Dulae has heard of Captain Vazquez's competence, and reckons she is about a CR 10 or 11.

**Dulae knows teleportations orbs operate like the teleport spell, with one charge each. It will transport anyone touching it. The radius of the orb dictates the radius of the spell. Very expensive to make. But she also knows Silo Fairhurst invented them, so she's not too surprised.

Captain Vazquez accepts the papers and reads them over. She looks up at Dulae, then back down at the papers before handing them back.

She gestures for Dulae to follow her into the other private office before shutting the door firmly behind them.

Captain Vazquez's office is immaculate, with everything in its proper place, as per regulation. There is a small wooden desk, a chair behind it, a chair in front of it, and a closed closet door. A thin stack of paperwork is neatly ordered on the desk. Dulae thinks this is the smaller of the two private offices, reinforcing her earlier impression that the wizard must outrank the captain.

Instead of sitting or inviting Dulae to sit, the captain turns to face her and clasps her hands behind her back in an imperious posture.

"Show me."

Please put your next post in a spoiler (marked 'spoiler').

"Orders, Captain?"

Captain Vazquez breaks into a smile that is almost wolfish. "Welcome, lieutenant."

She gestures for Dulae to sit and she takes a seat herself behind the desk. "An unanticipated luxury to have you with us."

She drums her fingers on the desk purposefully, forming her thoughts.

"No doubt your orders from your commander have informed you that Southtown has been the site of an excavation operation on Mount Oranis for many months.

"In the meantime," she sighs, "this boneheaded wizard is bankrupting us by hiring civilians to use his useless magic maps that are meant to track these people."

She shoots Dulae a serious look. "I have a suspicion that there is a mage at the heart of this mist. Silo's ridiculous scheme unexpectedly presents an opportunity to get someone with your unique talents close to the mountain without scaring them off.

I want you to join a team tomorrow as 'retired sergeant' Toema, a fellow hired volunteer. Subtly encourage the team you're with to explore outside of Silo's silly maps if you need to, with all due awareness of the time of day and weather. No one is to know your true purpose outside of you and I. Report back to me discretely."

She folds her hands in front of her on the desk. "Any questions, lieutenant?"

Dulae sits down and returns the smile. "Thank you Captain; if half of what Kieran has told me is true it will be a pleasure to work with you."

As the Captain describes the situation, Dulae's face grows grimmer. A twelve person team went missing? If we had known THAT, I wouldn't be alone. Three days to find out whats going on before the army scares the culprit off... doable.

Dulae clears her throat. "Just a few questions, Captain. First off, what level of magical support did the recovery team have? Second, could you identify anything about the nature of the mutilations?"

Captain Vazquez glances down at her paperwork.

"Two rank 5** clerics and a rank 5 sorcerer were in the search and rescue team." She flips through the papers to pull out another. "The animals were found mutilated with wounds consistent with wolf or bear attacks, but were not consumed. The traveler was found dead with no wounds."

**Dulae knows this is equivalent to about level 3.

Dulae stares at the Captain, face blank. SonofanAltiendamnedNorahstaintlickingnecromanticb$%%%! "I see, Sir. I suppose I will have to be cautious, then." She thinks for a minute, turning the Captain's words over in her mind. "I think this can work Captain, as long as the team I go with doesn't have any weak links; they wouldn't survive high risk reconnaissance. I don't suppose you can stack a team for me?"

Captain Vazquez frowns at her. "I don't agree to send anyone that I don't think can handle themselves, lieutenant. Did you have something in mind?"

That's quite a swear word.

Laurett's eyebrows go up a bit at Alaina's request, but she slides the gold off the table.

She collects something from the back counter and places a third-full bottle of whiskey on the bar that looks like it might pour five-ish full glasses. She then puts down two more empty glasses next to it.

She dips below the bar for a moment and puts a small metal pail in front of Henri. "This is for your room dearie. I won't tell you what to do, but, you should know that clean-up is three silver per mess."

Alaina - question for you in the discussion tab.

EDIT: Also, just for the record, anyone who is hungover tomorrow in-game (we'll do a constitution (read: fortitude) save with a bonus for Xizoh's remedy in the morning) will take a 1-3 penalty to any check for the day (or until they rest again, or there's some other heal attempt).

Laurett looks genuinely surprised for a moment at the sizable tip. "Altien bless you, dearie! That's mighty kind of you."

Xizoh and Cel notice Laurett becomes more likely to look toward their group to see if they need anything while helping other customers.

Captain Vazquez gives her a small, ironic smile. "Actually, lieutenant, I'm hoping they'll be smart enough to do just that if the team gets too close. We have enough people unaccounted for as it is. But I see your meaning."

She drums her fingers sharply on the desk again for a beat. "I'll see what I can do."

She rises and clasps her hands behind her back. "Bunk here while you're in Southtown, lieutenant. Hint that you have permission from me for your retired status as a favor to your former mentor Kieran.

"Report to the civilian waiting room first thing tomorrow morning and await assignment with the rest."

She smiles slyly. "I expect reports from you every evening, sergeant."

Dulae notices that none of the teleportation orbs in the pile are glowing, which means they are not charged and fairly worthless.

Private Zahan is re-ordering chairs in the civilian waiting room, which is otherwise now empty.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise at Dulae's comment. "Hm, bad luck to get stuck with the civilians. I guess retired status isn't all it's cracked up to be."

He finishes heaving the last chair, moved to serve as a table in a card game, back to its proper place in a corner. "But still, if she's letting you bunk here, that's something."

He tilts his head in the direction of the door. "Follow me, I'll show you."

He leads her down the stairs to the landing by the entrance, and then down the steps leading to the level below. The stone-lined space feels cavernous compared to the level above, as though some of it has been tunneled underground. Halls and rooms are well lit with lamps on the walls and feel comfortably warm.

Dulae catches glimpses of what looks like an armory, a training room, a workshop, a series of meeting rooms and offices, and a small mess before they reach a large chamber with many rows of cots.

Zahan leads her to the back of the room and stops next to a bed in the corner. "Back row is for visiting messengers. I'm sure it'll do."

Dulae's cot looks serviceable, with simple bedding and a standard issue pillow and blanket. The room is slightly warmer than the rest of the lower level, with no perceptible draft.

He points to a chest at the end of the bed. "For your gear. Anything you need washed goes to the laundry," he points to a large basket on the other side of the room. "Lights are out in here an hour before midnight and dim two hours before that. Latrines are outside, mess is the next room over with meals at dawn, noon, and dusk. I think you're on your own for travel rations though," he says apologetically.

"Anything else you might need, let me or Lieutenant Buhari know, yeah?"

Laurett hears Cel's plan to sleep in the stables and raises her eyebrows. "No charge, if you're sure. Make sure you don't get any hay near the woodstoves or lanterns or Rik will throw you out by your ear," she says with a grin, but a serious look in her eyes.

After opening the outside door, Cel feels a shock of cold and an icy breeze. The lights around town have dimmed since they were first lit, and he can barely see Mount Oranis towering over the sleepy town. In the light of a recently risen new moon, he notices an unnatural-looking cloud of mist is slowly roiling from the top of the mountain and seems to have crept about a third of the way down the mountainside.

The stables are warm and comfortable inside. A single lantern offers a dim view of three woodstoves emitting a steady, glowing heat to different areas of the stables. The floor near the stoves is remarkably clean of hay. The horses are all quiet and calm.

From the doorway, Cel can see a few stalls of presumably about a dozen. One stall looks to be stacked full of hay, with its stall door shut.

A couple minutes after Cel hits the hay, he hears the creaking of a woodstove door swinging open and the lightly percussive sound of someone throwing more wood in.

The door swings shut and latches. A few seconds later a boy of sixteen pokes his head over the stall door, blanket in hand. He sees that the person he was going to offer it to has buried themselves in hay, so he shrugs and leaves it draped on the door of the stall instead.

"You will be safe here," he whispers. "'Night."

"Many thanks!" says the random man cheerfully. "Mighty kind of you."

Zahan scratches at his head for a moment. "Hm, you know, I'd actually go ask the quartermaster, Balewa. I'd bet she'd have some you could borrow for the search. I think some of the other civilian groups have, depending on where they're headed."

Chance Henri drops her keys at the top of the stairs: 1-7 No, 8-20 Yes: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Alaina hears a quiet metallic clang that sounds like a key dropping just after they reach the top of the stairs. Henri does not seem to notice.

The narrow bed has plain white bedsheets that feel crisp and clean, a feather pillow, and a thick knit wool blanket. There's a short wooden table next to the bed, a chair in a corner, a dry washbasin with a pitcher of water and a coarse towel, a small metal tub, and a chamberpot. Four wooden pegs stick out from the wall next to the door.

An unlit lantern sits on the table next to a couple matches. A woodstove next to the wall is providing a comfortable amount of heat and a bit of glowing light, with a small stack of wood and an iron poker beside it.

There is a muffled clamor below, as the rest of the tavern's patrons finish their drinks and head home. Xizoh can also hear the intermittent opening and closing of doors near his.

Alaina's room is quiet - the noise from the tavern downstairs fades as patrons leave.

Dulae wakes to sudden lamplight, the shuffling of soldiers in the barracks around her, and the strong smell of coffee from the mess.

Cel wakes to daylight that spills through the stable doors and is filtered through the hay. He hears Rik softly humming an upbeat jig to himself in the next stall over as he mucks it out. Cel smells hay and the familiar, smoky scent of woodstoves burning pine.

Xizoh wakes to bright daylight and a chilly room. The woodstove in his room looks like it needs to be relit, although the wooden floor is fairly warm from the warm tavern below. He can smell fresh bread and bacon.

Henri wakes up feeling cold in a strange room that she doesn't recognize.

It is small and simple, about ten feet by eight feet. Bright sunlight is streaming in through a single window with thick glass that offers a blurry view of the Abbhen mountains.

She is lying, still fully clothed, on top off a narrow bed that has plain white bedsheets that look crisp and clean, a feather pillow, and an unused thick knit wool blanket.

There's a short wooden table next to the bed, a chair in a corner, a dry washbasin with a pitcher of water and a coarse towel, a small metal tub, and a chamberpot. A row of wooden pegs stick out from the wall next to the door.

An unlit lantern sits on the table next to a couple matches. A woodstove next to the wall looks like it is not currently lit, but there is a small stack of wood and an iron poker beside it.

She can smell bacon and freshly baked bread.

She spots a brass key with a leather tag on the floor near the door.

Please roll a fortitude check.

Alaina wakes to bright daylight and a chilly room. The woodstove in her room looks like it needs to be relit, although the wooden floor is fairly warm. She can smell fresh bread and bacon and hear the muffled chatter of a few voices in the tavern below.

Please roll a fortitude check.