GM Rednal's Bloody Jack (Inactive)

Game Master Rednal

Kuldra sighs, "Let's find this fortuneteller. Figuring out what that sludge is isn't going to tell us where to look next."

Orson's efforts at object reading were, alas, unable to reveal too much about the flyer in question, aside from a vague sensation that it had been passed through at least two hands. One of them felt like a woman, the other like a man. On the bright side, you did have a new destination - and after thanking the still-amused Everett for his time, you headed off.

The last gleam of twilight has given way to nightfall by the time you finish the climb from the banks of the Great Lyme River below up through the tangle of streets that is the Skew to the summit of Festival. The ramshackle streets and elevated walks you climbed rose steeply between the countless hovels and shops, built upon each other like a seemingly never-ending stack of precarious children’s blocks. The creaks of ancient timbers shoring up sections of this cobbled-together mass and the all-too-obvious warping and groaning of massive bolts holding key structural elements of the conglomeration together give the entire journey a feeling of taking one’s life into his or her own hands. It is not a pleasant sensation, and you are stunned to realize the masses of people that live and work in and among this house of cards. The dailies frequently speak of collapses in sections of the Skew, but they in no way capture the true peril that lurks incessantly among its rising byways and the atrocious loss of life that must occur.

Surmounting the Skew brings you to the summit of the great pier that is the Festival District, and only a few hundred feet away lays the entrance to the Great Fayre, a riot of colour and lights, attractions and screams of delight against a background of never-ending, tuneless calliope music and the lingering smell of urine and fried treats.

However, here at the very verge of the summit, set up outside the limits of the Great Fayre, are endless rows of vendor stalls, many occupied, some abandoned, but all burdened with years of grime and disenchantment. One in particular catches your eye — a ramshackle wooden affair with its back end virtually hanging out over the drop of the Skew below. Faded bunting that was once some shade of purple flutters feebly in the first breezes of the night around a hand-painted sign — long since faded and peeling — that shows an elaborately dressed, sharp-featured young gypsy woman peering deeply into the ubiquitous crystal ball. Still barely legible next to this image are the words, “Madam Larua — Teller of Fortunes and Diviner of Secrets.” You have found it.

Here it is. Hope neither of you have dinner plans.

"Eh, I've eaten worse than what they sell here. At least I think. Looks precarious, though, like a gust of wind could send it tumbling in the Skew."
The woman approaches the stall, knocking at the door. "Is this place as uninhabited as it looks? We'd like to ask you some questions!"

She sighs and checks to see if the door is open. It was a bit odd the dwarf was not the least diplomatic here.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim interior of this flimsy structure. The floor creaks, and the floorboards sag noticeably near the back wall where they extend out over the edge of the precipice of Festival. The rear wall even bows slightly from this warping, though much of it is covered by a thick, moth-eaten curtain. The side walls are likewise covered in this manner, and the ceiling is swathed in old, dusty bolts of muslin, giving the entire room the feeling of the inside of a gypsy caravan wagon.

Before the rear curtain stands a small, cloth-covered table. Upon it rests a dust-covered crystal ball with a few well-thumbed, illuminated cards splayed out before it, along with an inkwell and old quill. Behind the table sits a bedraggled, white-haired old woman in threadbare finery and a colourful bandana. Her sharp features sag and have been dulled by age and drink. You assume her to be the aforementioned Madam Larua, but clearly many years have passed since the portrait on the sign above the door was painted. She thumps a half-empty bottle to the floor behind the table and fixes a bleary eye upon you.

"Welcome. Here, ze future is revealed for only five in silver. Which one of you wishes for ze reading?" she inquired.

Ada cocks her head to the left, looking inquisitively at the seer, before tossing a gold piece on the table. "All of us, on city business, but I have a question for you before we start. How did you look before your mother and father were born?"

She steeples her hands, waiting for the old woman's answer to the koan to judge her character.

Orson reaches out with his hand, baffled.

Wha- oh all right.

The woman eyed the coin, and with a movement deft enough to look like magic all on its own, she made it disappear. "Does an arrow consider the merit of its target, or the stone reflect on the honor of its foe? One can only see what is there." she answered calmly. "Of course, some see far more than others."

Orson has absolutely no idea what to make of all this riddlespeak and stays silent.

"Ontological and empiricist, interesting combination. So, about the business at hand."
Ada produces the old flyer. "This was found while investigating the murder of Mister William Hughe, also known as Old Bill, in East Ending, together with the emblem of the Guild of Sewagers and Ironmongers. Can you tell us anything about any of that?"

As she starts speaking, I'll use my detect lies ability.

The old woman glanced up as she noted Ada's magic. "Bah!" she said. "You keep that to yourself or you can bugger off." she took another sip from a bottle. "I do remember Bill, though. He visited me quite a few times some thirty years ago. Always rather intense, that one, like he was on a mission of some kind."

She doesn't seem to be lying.

"Do you remember what those missions were about? Any advice he asked from you?" asks Kuldra.

Thirty years ago, you say? That's quite a long memory you have, ma'am. He must have made quite the impression. Do you know what he was looking for, or trying to accomplish? No offense meant, but I don't imagine you have many people coming back again and again and again so often you'd remember them decades later.

Ada waits for Larua to answer before butting in with more questions of her own.

"He was always after readings to find what he called "naughty children". Pretty keen on their whereabouts, he was, but he never elaborated on why he wanted to know." she took another thoughtful drink from her bottle. "And, well, I've had lots of people in over the years, but you don't forget someone asking about kids a lot during the old Bloody Jack killings. I half-suspected it was him doin' it, but he never gave any hints or anything that it really was, and I was watchin' him awful close after his first two or three visits." Madame Larua added. "And then he stopped coming one day, of course, and that was that."

"And did your watching him closely reveal anything weird?"

Did he explain what exactly he meant by naughty? That's a pretty vague description.

Madam Larua shrugged at Orson's question. "I didn't ask, and he didn't offer." the old woman answered. "And I don't remember ze last reading I gave him. Bad luck to listen in on the spirits, it is, so I keep all of thoze locked away."

Ada racks her mind for anything else Larua could be able to help with. So many questions flood her mind that she can't grasp any, so she goes off a tangent, clinking another gold piece on the table.
"If you can speak with spirits, then, what can the spirits tell us about Bill's death?"

Naughty children during the Bloody Jack killings. That certainly bodes ill. I guess we need to know what these spirits know.

Orson stands silently awaiting an answer from Larua.

"'Zat iz not zomething to ask of zem." Madam Larua said firmly. "Ze spirits are... particular about zings." As she spoke, a shadow could be seen by the rear window of the building.

Orson nods his head at the rear window.

Do these spirits usually have a physical presence? Or are you expecting company from the rear? It seems something is coming.

"What can the spirits answer?" she asks with exasperation. [b]"Can they give us anything useful?"

Noticing the shadow, Ada raises a finger to her lips and tip-toes out of the shack, ready to draw her blade.
Stealth: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

Before Madam Larua could reply, the fragile building shook like a gust of wind was rattling it - and a massive tentacle crashed through the tiny back window, wrapping around the fortuneteller's neck. She could only let out a brief "Urk" before being pulled right out through the window with an audible snapping of bone.

Kuldra springs out, drawing her weapon and sheathing herself in armor as she does so.

No! Stop!

Orson gestures as if to grab at Madam Larua.

Ok think, no time to summon Andrealphus. Divine. Find the aura.

Orson follows Kuldra.

Unwatching Gaze, what was that?
Ada hurries towards the back, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever caused that noise.
I was already outside.

It was probably for the best that you'd darted out of the building - a few seconds after Orson escaped it, the entire building was dragged off the cliff and down to the rocks below by a flying creature that could only be described as a writhing mass of tentacles and snake heads. For the moment, at least, it seemed focused on its task... but it probably wasn't going to be long before it turned its attention to you.

Kuldra was not about to wait for the aberration to finish. She gathers up some crystal and hurls it at the creature.

touch attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
damage: 3d4 ⇒ (3, 2, 3) = 8
Reflex save DC 15 or be entangled

Ada's mind wondersat the nature of the beast, but her body reacts instinctively. Bow and arrow in her hands, she lets loose at the horror without thinking, acting on pure reflex.
Attack, Composite Longbow: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Not having the time needed to summon his favored ally with the creature right there, Orson holds his staff in front of him as if to strike with it and tries to identify any weaknesses it might have.

Knowledge Planes/Arcana/Local: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Clearly the stress is getting to him however.

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Kuldra's blast struck the creature, but wasn't quite accurate enough to entangle it. Ada's, on the other hand, simply passed through the air near it... and despite his education as a wizard, Orson wasn't quite able to pinpoint whatever the creature was. It drifted closer a moment later, then lashed out with its many body parts. Given the number of heads it had, it didn't seem to have any problem with targeting all of you.

Bite (Kuldra): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Tentacle (Kuldra): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Bite (Ada): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Tentacle (Ada): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24 for Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Tentacle (Orson): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24 for Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Grab (Ada): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (4) + 14 = 18 plus Constrict: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Grab (Orson): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31 plus Constrict: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Note that you are currently in its threatened area.

She shouts in both common and dwarven, "Let them go, {That-Which-Should-Not-Be}" She punctuates the sentence with her dorn-dergar, enhanced by magic.

attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
weapon damage: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
electric damage: 1d6 ⇒ 5
blast damage: 3d4 ⇒ (2, 4, 3) = 9
Once again, Reflex save DC 15 or be entangled

So this is probably where I die.

Orson struggles to wriggle free.

Escape Artist: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

With a grunt, Ada drops the bow and attempts to break free but gets tangled up in the slimy tentacles. "What in the name of insanity is this thing?"
Grapple check: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Incidentally, Orson, you should get your stat bar fully listed. The format's in my alias. ^^ It really helps when I need to do things like reference stuff like CMD, make hidden Perception rolls, etc.

As Orson and Ada struggled to get free, Kuldra aimed for an attack-

Attack of Opportunity vs Kuldra for not casting defensively: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 for Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 plus Acid Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

-and one of the flying creature's mouths bit her as she aimed to channel the energy.

Concentration Check: 1d20 + 5 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 3 = 9

The spell power fizzled, although she did manage to smash the head that had bitten her with her heavy weapon. The beast's hide resisted some - although not nearly most or all - of the blow, and it bit out at her with its other head as it continued to squeeze the others.

Bite (Kuldra): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 for Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 plus Acid Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3
Grapple (Ada): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (15) + 14 = 29 plus Constrict: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Grapple (Orson): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16 plus Constrict: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Ok, either I get out and run right now or I am about to die. Come ON!

Escape Artist don't fail me now!: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

And it did. Well this was fun.

"Getting hurt... is necessary... for recovery!"
With a grunt, Ada tries to push herself free from the tentacle.
Grapple: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Swift to proclaim a Judgement of Healing, gaining fast healing 1. If I break free, free action to draw my greatsword (Quick Draw).

I though that that didn't provoke. dammit.

She tries to figure out what it's weaknesses are, and strikes again, charging it up with crystal energy.

knowledge: arcana: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
casting defensively: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
weapon damage: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
electricity: 1d6 ⇒ 5
crystal: 3d4 ⇒ (2, 2, 2) = 6
DC 15 reflex save vs entanglement

Casting generally provokes, even as part of another action. There IS a feat that lets you use Energy Blade without provoking, though. Pretty handy if that's your focus, but this game is only the one level.

Orson didn't manage to slip away - neither did Ada, even as Kuldra sent another blast out at the creature via her weapon.

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Without, alas, entangling it. Rather than retaliating, though, all of the creature's heads suddenly whipped to the side and looked towards the distance. Its tentacles loosened a moment later, and it quickly rose into the cloudy, darkening sky, moving away from the battlefield and leaving you bloody and battered, but alive. Something else seemed to have caught its attention (although if you persisted in attacking, it might turn its focus back to you... with very uncertain results).

As for the old fortuneteller, well... it looked like her body was left beneath the rubble of the building below.

Orson stands up, coughing violently, and takes a mental note to find out what that thing was.

Is the fortune-teller-oh, nevermind. I was too busy dying to catch a good enough look to identify the thing, do either of you know what that was?

Ada catches her breath. "Something... not nice. Terribly unpleasant, I'd say, not even introducing itself. Good thing we got some info from Larua before she shuffled off her mortal coil."

She fishes a wand out of her belt and starts waving it around. "Are you hurt, Orson, Kuldra? It's best to heal those who are healthy, of course, way easier. But sometimes it can be worthwhile to mend wounds."

"Shall we check out this Guild? Or try to fetch information about that... thing? Or both? Or none?"

Perhaps we should check in with the Inspector. Some extra legitimate authority can't hurt our investigation... much.

You're certainly able to go find him - although I should note it's quite late in the day now, and many places, including his office, will be shutting down. You may have better luck if you go to find him in the morning.

"Then we should rest." she says as she scans for the return of the tentacled creature. "I think we should keep together and keep watch, just in case. Something does not want us solving this."

Agreed. My house isn't too far, and we can resume when we have daylight and witnesses. Unless you'd rather chance it with an inn? On second thought, that might be better. Nobody will know to check there.

"Inn sounds lovely, let's head there. Tomorrow I still think we should look for this Guild of Sewagers and Ironmongers. Nothing like some sewage to start off a great day."

"Both ideas sound good. But no place near the cliffs." the last comes with a shudder at the unnatural thing they had faced.