GM OfAnything's Port Godless (Inactive)

Game Master terraleon

"Maybe this Maroc knows something about her plans and intended whereabouts... Do you know where we might find him?" Hakime isn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but sometimes she does get to the point.

"Iso is curious. Did lady vanish from house? Or did she go out and not come back?" asks the big barbarian.

"Iso is skilled tracker. But two weeks is long time, and streets hard to read."

When Hakime suggests the merchant, Iso's eyes light up.

"Beautiful Hakime is as smart as she is beautiful! Iso thinks Hakime Amalgamates Beauty and Smarts! We should talk with Merchant Maroc."

He offers the archer a hug of congratulations. As he moves in for the clinch, a small hoard of microscopic vermin await their boarding opportunity.

"I see" says Hakaam as he casually flashes his Wayfinder for confirmation. "Perhaps it would be appropriate for us to search the lady's quarters? And perhaps you would be so kind as to just tell me, as much as you can remember about all the things that took place in the household, beginning three weeks ago?"

With a masked smile he bows apologetically. "I am sorry if such a task sounds daunting or my request to search her affairs rude, but I am a trained investigator. Finding out things that are hidden is a task that I find great purpose and meaning in."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (20) + 13 = 33

"Of course as soon as that is done, I would be remiss in going to meet with that Taldane fellow. But I feel that talking to a copper-smith in the sook will not yield as much as our own investigation" he says with a look to his fellow Pathfinders deep with meaning. Eando Kline, by the god's sweet sweet mercy, remember you fools, Eando Kline is pretending to be a copper merchant!

Bones nods, "Still it wouldn't hurt to speak to this Taldan copper merchant Maroc."

The dwarf give a knowing look back at Hakaam that Eando Kline is a one potential if reluctant ally in this investigation.

Akhina patiently answers each of your questions.

"Maybe this Maroc knows something about her plans and intended whereabouts... Do you know where we might find him?"

"I don't know where to find him, but I expect he has a stall in the Grand Sook. It is a vast marketplace, though. He may not be easy to find."

"Iso is curious. Did lady vanish from house? Or did she go out and not come back?" asks the big barbarian.

"She left on one of her excursions and didn't come back. I don't know where she went off to."

"I see" says Hakaam as he casually flashes his Wayfinder for confirmation. "Perhaps it would be appropriate for us to search the lady's quarters? And perhaps you would be so kind as to just tell me, as much as you can remember about all the things that took place in the household, beginning three weeks ago?"

With a masked smile he bows apologetically. "I am sorry if such a task sounds daunting or my request to search her affairs rude, but I am a trained investigator. Finding out things that are hidden is a task that I find great purpose and meaning in."

The woman pales at the request. "Her quarters? I should think not." She smooths her skirts again, "However, she did meet with Maroc in the study more than once. I could bend the rules and show you there if it would aid in your investigations."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (1) + 17 = 18

"Anything would help", says Hakaam who for once cannot get a read on this woman.

"Indeed, dear lady, I'm certain we could learn all we need to know if we allow our investigator a few moments to examine the study." Turathal offers a bow and gestures toward the interior of the home.

sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

"Is there anything else you could tell us of this Maroc? Did Lady Jahani have many dealings with him before the latest troubles? Do you know what first brought them together? Clearly you find the man unsettling, and we need to know why."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (20) + 20 = 40

NOte: posted in discussion by accident, but Hakime requested prestidigitation from Turathal and he obliged (delousing, lol)

Bah, people are so confusing. Look at this one squirming and obfuscating! Science is so much more straightforward!

Doctor Drokk lurks uncomfortably in the background whilst those more skilful in dealing with persuasion (that doesn't involve terrifying anybody) try to get information from the majordomo. Or more accurately, he looms menacingly, it being difficult for a 6'7" hunchback in spiked fullplate to lurk.

"Is there anything else you could tell us of this Maroc? Did Lady Jahani have many dealings with him before the latest troubles? Do you know what first brought them together? Clearly you find the man unsettling, and we need to know why."

Akhina looks down at her lap with an aura of concern, "Only that the Pure Legion is also looking for this man." She looks pleadingly at Turathal, "My mistress would not break the Laws of Man, would she?"

She clears her head, stands and shows Hakaam to the study. His search of the room is quite thorough, checking behind, underneath and inside anything that might move. Beneath a basket of cushions, he finds an envelope labeled "From Maroc" and in the brazer, some wispy paper ashes among the charcoal.

"I cannot speak for Lady Jahani, but seeking knowledge about your enemy is also a way to understand how to protect from that enemy. Worry not. I'm certain your mistress will remain true to the laws and customs in which she believes." Turathal turns to his companions.

"Anyone else in the mood for some sticky buns?"

"Iso will Amalgamate Sticky Buns with Ale!" announces the big man with a childlike grin on his face.

He points out the ashes.

"Can scientists read paper that has burned? Iso heard some have magic that can repair such things."

"Ah, magic can repair what is damaged Iso. But what fire has destroyed, I think is truly gone. At least, I can think of no oils or infusions that would suffice to restore what has burned away."

Doctor Drokk emphasises "fire" and "burned", exhibiting obvious excitement at the words.

The Grand Sook is a vast marketplace constructed mostly of tents with the occasional brick structure for particularly well established merchants, creating a sea of canvas and commodities close to the waterfront. The aroma of various spices blend with the smell of the sea water, forming an unusual, yet mouth-watering combination. Sea birds call from over the water, but few dare to brave the bustling throng.

The envelope’s instructions lead the PCs to an empty stall along the southern edge of the sook, near to the sea. The smell of seaweed is stronger here, and the crowd is thinner than those areas more central to the marketplace.

From the stall to the left comes a hawker’s shout, ”Buns! Buns! Get your Buns!” The merchant seems unfazed by the unusual nature of your group. He calls out eagerly to Hakime, ”Would the nice lady like a cinnamon bun?”

From the right comes an answering shout, ”Rolls! Rolls! Savory Rolls! Beef, chicken, pork or cheese!” A woman waves at Hakaam from the baker’s stall, ”Put some color on those cheeks!” She spots Iso and Bones through the crowd and adds, ”Get your flatbreads here!”

If you wish to avoid drawing attention as you ask questions, roll Knowledge(local) to blend in by observing local customs, Bluff to use secret messages or oblique language to communicate, or Diplomacy to reassure NPCs that your questions are innocent.

Hakime blushes at the baker's call for buns, then walks over to the his stall. I LOVE cinnamon buns... how did you know? I'll take two... have you any kaf to go with them? Oh... I think a couple of my friends are going for savory instead of sweet... their loss... Maybe I should just buy a whole box and share them? Hmmm... what else have you besides cinnamon? any jelly filled buns?" While he's filling her order, she looks over at the right baker's stall, then back at the left baker, her eyes lingering on the empty stall only a moment... "Sweet buns and savory pasties... a good combination... what used to stand between you? A kaf or tea bar would have been perfect! Looks like they just closed up, eh? Too bad, the bazaar is still quite busy."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

k(local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Bones goes over to the woman selling Rolls, "Well, I'll buy three cheese rolls, my good lady. I was hoping to buy a copper kettle for my tea, but I see the copper merchant has close shop early. Handing her three silver coins, Do you know if he will be back soon?" The dwarf watches her reaction.

sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Iso points out the shade sail. "That has moved."

Uncomfortable in both the crowd and the hot lands, Iso starts to sweat profusely. Those downwind of him subtly move away. Realising that perhaps he is not the best equipped to ask questions, he settles for breaking wind. After a minute or so he can't help himself.

"Iso was hoping to amalgamate one of your buns." he says to the first hawker.

Turathal seeks something savory, turning a critical eye to her wares before selecting a roll with what he hopes is pork.
"These do smell delicious. As my dwarven friend indicated, we were seeking to speak with the copper merchant. Would you know if he's returning soon?" He offers a gold piece. "For the food, and any information you might have..."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (19) + 20 = 39

Santigo smiles at Hakime's interest. "I have jelly rolls, lemon cakes, and gourd-spiced crisps as well. But nothing beats the cinnamon bun! I'll put together a variety box for you and your friends, yes?" He turns to his wares and begins assembling a collection of sweet breads. When he turns back to find Iso at the booth, his smile visible strains. He waves at the empty stall, "Oh, a copper merchant sets up most days, Maroc. He took off for the racetrack this morning- said something about looking for a dog that had found his good luck. If you want kahve, try Mama Al-Sahir's two blocks up the street." He gestures further into the sook "Maroc should be back again tomorrow if you are looking for pretty necklace to grace that neck." he gestures airily, still avoiding eye contact with the sweaty man. He adds hopefully, "You come back and buy another bun?"

Without taking a breath, he grabs a bun and shoves it at Iso, "Free sample if you eat it two stalls down." he gestures with his head toward the empty stall.

------

Ishe smiles warmly, "Three cheese rolls coming up!" She bustles to add three steaming rolls to a paper sack and hands it to the dwarf. "Oh, Maroc'll be back tomorrow, I hope."

She takes Turathal's gold and tests it before adopting a mischievous grin and hollering, "Business is booming over here!" toward Santigo's stall. She carefully wraps a pork bun in paper before offering it to the man. "Not shopping for pots and pans are you?
You're bold to ask about Maroc. The Pure Legion did the same, not an hour ago. I wish you luck getting that man to pay off whatever debt he owes you before the Pure Legion finds him."

"My friend, only one?" scoffs Hakaam as he approaches.

I'd like to claim perhaps a circumstance bonus seeing Hakaam is actually from this area of the world, but I respect the game mechanics at play.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 1d6 + 9 ⇒ (16) + (6) + 9 = 31
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17

"Such a bounty deserves it's praise, and I am famished. My friends did not believe me when I said to them that the Souk was a marvel to behold. Our business tends to bring us more towards the eastern portion of the Inner Sea."

"In any case, tell me how many I can get for another gold piece. Real food , my only weakness." He grins like a child beneath his face scarf, confiding loudly "I am somewhat of an epicurean."[/b]

Hakaam's diet, even though sometimes outright inhuman and strange, definitely comprises some of the finer foods available.

Ninja'ed by the GM.

"Ah. Well." says Hakaam, stalling for a reply. "I suppose I will have to eat these delicious comestibles fast then. Did he happen to say where he was going? I suppose he'll be in jail soon, but we'd rather meet with him before that."

Hakime watches him make up the sampler box with a smile... "Well, you've beem most helpful." Hakime smiles warmly at the man... "That box of sweet treats looks SO yummy... thank you so much for telling me about Mama Al-Sahir's... you should arrange to share a double sized stall with her..... both your sales would increase! Anyway... I thank you for telling me about Maroc too. How can a woman resist a lovely necklace? I will have to come see him. I hope he's having good luck at the racetrack... but not TOO good, or else he won't come back here tomorrow, eh?" Hakime will pay the man for the buns, and wander over toward Mama Al-Sahir's = but not too far... just enough so when the rest of the party leaves the baker's they can all gather and talk without being overheard by the merchants. She will advise them of what she heard...

"Maroc claimed he was headed to the racetrack this morning, something about a dog that found his luck... not sure what that meant, but that's what the bun-seller said. He says Maroc should be back tomorrow, but I don't think we should wait... perhaps find this racetrack? ... But on the way to wherever we're going, I'd like to stop at a stall close by. I need a cup of kaf after that sweet roll... Oh! and I bought these so you could each have one or two... they are excellent!"

At Hakaam's invitation, Ishe beams, "Best food around here, that's for sure. For that coin, I'll give you a dozen rolls. Take your pick- Beef, chicken, pork, or cheese." she waves at her various stuffed pastries. "He didn't say to me, but he wasn't in a hurry either. You might beat the Legion if you know where to look."

----

Santigo takes Hakime's money with a low bow, then begins shouting at passersby, "Buns! Buns! Sweet buns here! Enjoy a treat!"

I was on the fence as to whether or not that was the custom there.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22

"Only a dozen? But I am in town only for a few weeks and fate knows when I will return to the lands of my childhood!"

Give or take a few thousand miles of sand, depraved end-of-the-world sexually liberated cultists and creatures that take pleasure in turning your food to ash...

"A kind soul such as yourself will no doubt take pity on me and allow me to sate both my appetite and my homesickness with three more of your wondrous rolls which remind me so of my mother's cooking..."

Or at least how I would have liked a human mother to cook for me. I cannot say she didn't cook, but if I'm honest with myself here, that was more of an aftereffect of her weapon. If the gods do care about their dominion, they'll preserve me from ever smelling burning offal again.

Once it's all said and done (Hakaam really only aims for one more roll) he'll take a variety pack.

Iso takes his "Free sample" and with a big smile walks down the street two stalls. There he stands and loudly 'amalgamates' the bun. To be honest, it is not so much an amalgamation as complete destruction. Bits of bun fly left, right and even into the unfortunate stall holder.

"Iso likes Buns!" he happily shares with any and everyone willing to listen.

Drokk is uncomfortable in such a large crowd of people, but fortunately his appearance results in most folks giving him space. At the trade stands he waits a little ways back, showing no interest in the food, but observing.

know.local (if needed): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

When the party regroups and Hakime offers sweets: "I do not eat, thankyou. It wastes valuable research time."

Nigel, on the other hand, is greedy. He snatches a pastry from Hakime and devours it.

Bones takes a moment to look around in the empty stall as he eats his cheese rolls.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

The merchant is clearly uncomfortable imagining Hakaam's mother cooking for him, but her pity is well hidden behind a mask of professional pride, "No, no. I insist. Have an extra one of each. You must enjoy the food while you are here. Only the best for a wayward son come home."

As Iso comes over, it is hard to tell what precisely causes her eyes to water.

Hakime gets a cup of kaf to-go from Mama Al-Sahir's. And the party splits the bounty of buns and rolls as you make your way to the races.

-----

Near the outskirts of town, a boisterous crowd of gamblers shout bets, laugh, and occasionally curse their luck as the breeders and owners congregate to test their hounds' speed. Azir has a reputation for its swift, sleek dogs, and you can see it is well earned. Wandering bookkeepers call for last bets, then the crack of a whip cuts through the furor. Six dogs race around the track at astonishing speed. The chestnut dog painted with a red number four noses past the dappled dog with a number two during the last leg, and suddenly the race is over. A magically amplified voice calls out, "And Sugar Bean takes the race! What a day! Make your bets, folks. Next race in ten minutes. Sugar Bean returns to the track in one hour."

Among the crowd, pressed against the fence that sets the track off from the throng, is a group dressed as hired guards. Most of the crowd is intent upon the dogs as they race, but several men from this group keep a noticeable eye on their surroundings. Nonetheless, all are collecting on bets and enjoying themselves. One or two to excess.

Set back from the bulk of the crowd, under large awnings, is a seating area. Several merchants and more noble folk relax here, enjoying food and refreshment from the nearby stalls, while their servants place bets, observe the races and report results. At the center of attention is a woman almost entirely covered in silks. Only her eyes are visible, scanning the surrounding crowd, though she occasionally slips a cup beneath her veil to take a sip of wine.

curse it all! we should have gotten his description from his neighbor merchants... ah well..

perc: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34

Active buffs: heightened awareness (assuming less than 80 mins have elapsed since the noble's estate).

perception, heightened awareness: 1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 12 + 2 = 16 +2 more if "finding something hidden" applies (half orc scavenger alternate racial trait).

"We should look for 'Maroc,' or perhaps there is a dog called 'Lucky'?"

Perhaps Nigel is more observant.

The grotesque little creature perched atop Drokk's hunch is much more excited than his master to be in this strange place, full of sights and sounds not to be found in an alchemist's laboratory.

perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29

"Eeee. oook, pfffft?

Turathal seeks out a bookie, and asks for a racecard, hoping to get "lucky" and find an aptly named dog.

perception: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24

Time elapsed since Lady Joninaj: 60 minutes. It is approximately 1:30pm.

You've caught the eye of the more observant attendees of the races. If you wish to avoid drawing more attention, roll Knowledge(local) to blend in by observing local customs, Bluff to use secret messages or oblique language to communicate, or Diplomacy to reassure NPCs that your motivations are innocent.

Turathal finds a gregarious bookie near the edge of the crowd. "Looking for a dog named 'Lucky', huh?" he scratches his chin, "Well, you may be out of luck. Ole 'Lucky Spots' was looking to have a good run this morning, but she hurt her leg in a race just after midday." He shakes his head, "A shame. It'll be some time before she's back at the races. I had had one bettor who bet big on that one." he shrugs, "He didn't stick around long after that. His loss could be your gain, though. I'll give you good odds on Lightning's Shadow or Djinn Rat in the next race." he waggles his eyebrows suggestively "Whaddya say? I'll pay 4-to-1 on either."

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 1d6 + 9 ⇒ (2) + (5) + 9 = 16

"Ah, the race tracks." Hakaam pauses, suddenly unsure as to how to behave. Gambling was not part of the things I did in my youth. Unsure as to what to do, he decides to approach the lady in silks. "Many blessings upon you Desert Bloom, I am Hakaam Al-Ajam, Trade Prince of Qadira. Would it be that I had to hide my beauty like yourself; alas, my burden is to hide my unfortunate heritage. Might I dare ask the name of such a peerless bloom who dains grace the dog tracks with her presence?"

Sense Motive (Is this Eando Kline cross-dressing?): 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (3) + 17 = 20
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (7) + 13 = 20

Iso enjoys the sights and sound, if not the heat.

"Iso is pleased there is wind here. Something too cool his fevered brow!"

He eyes up the various betters, and tries to blend in, calling out the names of favoured dogs as he keeps his eyes open for either the merchant or the lady.

perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
know(local): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18

k(local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

Bones tries to think what the local would do. He continues to look around for someone who looks like they are in disguise or not be found.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26

sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

"Ah, the race tracks." Hakaam pauses, suddenly unsure as to how to behave. Gambling was not part of the things I did in my youth. Unsure as to what to do, he decides to approach the lady in silks. "Many blessings upon you Desert Bloom, I am Hakaam Al-Ajam, Trade Prince of Qadira. Would it be that I had to hide my beauty like yourself; alas, my burden is to hide my unfortunate heritage. Might I dare ask the name of such a peerless bloom who dains grace the dog tracks with her presence?"

The woman's eyes glitter at Hakaams words, "We all have our vices, cursed one. My name is Jaina Al-Sahir. And I deign to be here because I happen to like the animals." She looks him up and down. "Why are you here?"

Hakime circulates, mostly waiting for the others to finish their inquiries, as without a description of the missing copper merchant, it's hard to figure out who to ask what.

When she hears the bookie talk about the big bettor on Lucky who left, she walks up to him and asks him... "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear... can you describe this disappointed bettor to me please? I think he may be the fellow I'm looking for."

diplo: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

Drokk carefully observes the locals. Out of his element, he is rather a wallflower.

know.local, heightened awareness: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 8 + 2 = 28

perception, heightened awareness: 1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 12 + 2 = 27

When she hears the bookie talk about the big bettor on Lucky who left, she walks up to him and asks him... "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear... can you describe this disappointed bettor to me please? I think he may be the fellow I'm looking for."

"Some Taldan man," the bookie responds, "Short beard. He was hoping to earn enough coin betting on the dogs to purchase some slaves." He holds out a race card to Hakime hopefully, "Would you like to place a bet? Fleeting Mirage is the favorite for this next race. Odds are three-to-two."

"I am not a gambler, though I think I'd bet on Lightning's Shadow if I were... I just like the name. Thank you though. Did the bearded Taldan tell you what slaves he wanted to buy and from whom? Knowing that might help me to track him down."

diplo: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

"He didn't mention where, but he's not shopping now." he laughs, "After losing a big portion of his money, he decided to take a soak at the Jistka Bathhouse to forget his troubles. He's probably still there."

"Ah, thank you, Perhaps I'll look for him there. You've been most hospitable. Have a lovely day, I wish you much good fortune."

Hakime goes to the group to tell them what she's learned.

"Shall we head to the bathhouse to find Maroc?"

A look of horror crosses the normally calm face of Iso.

"Not another bathhouse! " he calls out in horror.

"Water and baths make you sick. Iso does not understand their popularity. Iso is surprised anyone still lives in these cursed lands, especially with baths present."

He shakes his head in disgust at the practice, but that doesn't stop him tagging along with the rest of the group. At least there might be shade and a drink in a bathhouse.

take ten diplomacy to blend in=30

"A bathhouse? Interesting. Why not? It seems to be our best lead.

Is Iso afraid of the water? I have an alchemical enhancement that can help with that, friend."

"Iso is afraid of NOTHING" says the big man.

"But Water is unhealthy. Should be avoided. Baths make people sick."

"An interesting hypothesis Iso, yes. You are filthy, and you seem robust. I spent much of my early years in Absalom's gutters, and it did me little harm. I no longer need water myself, but I do occasionally bathe.

Perhaps you should gather more evidence. Test your hypothesis. You could be on to something."

Drokk is entirely sincere, his enthusiasm for scientific examination obvious.

Bones nods, "Bathhouse it is. Let's be off before our friend gets tired of soaking."

"Well," continues Hakaam, unperturbed by his fellow's antics. "I am here because someone whose insight I very much need is, or perhaps was I should say, here. And while my disappointment at his lack of manners is great indeed, so is my joy, for it is not often one gets to behold such a rarity" he continues with a small bow and perhaps... a wink? "In any case, I do so wish I had the time for you to perhaps share with me your enthusiasm for these hounds, but alas Jaina Al-Sahir, I must deal with this sordid business before I am to indulge in any contemplation, be it of the self or of delights much more pleasing to the eyes. Perhaps you could aid me; have you seen a man who bet upon a dog with "luck" or "lucky" as part of it's name? Some sort of foreigner."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26