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Urgir, capital of Belkzen, land of the orcs, is a dusty city composed of a discordant combination of crumbling dwarven architecture and rickety shelters. Medda has asked that everyone try and obtain tribal tokens, which allow safe passage through Belkzen and protection from the orc tribes. She has purchased as many tribal tokens as she can with gold but still needs more to have enough for her following warriors and the Pathfinders.
Leader=> Tribe -> rumors
Blenta => Storm-Screamers of Rull -> trying to train a particularly independent gorthek
Borbus => Cleft Head -> looking for entertainment that isn't just violence
Bukog => Steel Eater -> supposed to be the metal smiths
Gekgaro => Broken Spine -> looking for a good winter camp
Graffa => Burning Sun -> training on an obstacle course
Kardook => Bloodied Gauntlet -> challenging others to nonlethal combat
Mirtgog => Murdered Child -> looking for information on Empty Hand tribe
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Hearing that one of the tribe leaders is looking for entertainment, Atronia heads out to look for the Cleft Head tribe. She asks around, looking for their leader. When she finally finds Borbus, she bows to him with a flourish. Once she gets back up, she grants him a wide smile.
"Finally I am given the chance to meet the great leader of the Cleft Head tribe! It is an honour to meet you, great Borbus." She lets the mild flattery sink in for a second before introducing herself. "My name is Atronia. I wander the world getting tangled in adventures and spreading the stories of exploits by those I have met on the way. Today, I've been brought to this place on a trip north through your lands, and so I wanted to meet you. I hope to hear from you of your own access to rulership and perhaps of the legends of your ancestors, as I am sure they are rife with worthy stories. But first, as a gesture of good faith, perhaps I could share one of my stories with you and your kin."
Having said this, she waits for a short while, looking expectantly at the orc, hoping he will agree to this exchange and perhaps offer safe passage, or at least be more open to the idea of allowing it.
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GrubGlub takes stock of the environment, and shivers. "This is certainly nothing like my warm and humid swamps.." he says in observation. "But the body must bend where the world will not." With a bow, he heads off looking for a way to procure more badges for the team.
After a while, he stumbles over some news.. it seems that Kardook of the Bloodied Gauntlet has an open challenge for Nonlethal Combat. Thinking that this was right up his alley, GrubGlub heads that way. When he gets there, he observes the trials and the different styles that are used in this part of the world. He picks up a few tricks watching, then approaches the Chieftain with a bow. "I am GrubGlub, martial artist and open hand fighter from the jungles and swamps of the Great Mwangi Exapanse!" he says by way of introduction. "I have heard of your challenge, and would wish to trade knowledge with you. I will accept your fight, then perhaps we may teach each other some examples of each traditions? It would benefit us both, and knowledge is never lost or wasted.. only something to be longed for!"
With this, GrubGlub enters the ring, casting aside his enveloping robes and his weapons so that he may fight in his little cloth with simply his long fingered and webbed hands and his springy and lean legs.
He closes fast with his opponent, and after feinting one direction, quickly springs the other and wraps his legs and arms around the unfortunate soul, throwing the creature into a pin.
Once the match is over, he bows to the Chieftain, then spends the next few hours teaching and learning the ways of hand to hand fighting this particular tribe uses.
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Makon considers challenging chief Kardook but thinks better of it Chiefs are great warriors most of them..I could end up embarrassing the Pathfinders. Petrok in his brief time in the Urgir Market also had heard that Chief Graffa was training on an obstacle coarse..I can ride, climb, swim, and survive in the wilderness pretty good! Maybe he needs a trainer? His mind made up, Makon makes his way to Chief Graffa's camp. As he pushes his way through chief Graffa's orc camp he (attempts) to intimidate a younger warrior in to granting him an audience with the chief, You ...yeah you! hey knuckle head, drop what you're doing and show me to the chief! I'm going to be his new trainer! What do you mean trainer for what! Trainer for the obstacle coarse...of coarse..now don't be a horses arse and show me to your chief! Makon cracks a grin at his own pun, when the young orc turns his back.
When presented to the Chief, Makon gets strait to the point. So I've heard you got some obstacle coarse or something or other you're training on? Makon waits for the chiefs reply and then presents his case. I'm in need of a few tribal tokens. Perhaps we could come to an agreement? Makon looks at the obstacle coarse nearby sees that it has several water hazards. I'm an excellent swimmer, a good climber, and what's more I've survived alone in the wilderness of the Mindspin for weeks on end with no support! Makon looks around to judge the other Orcs reactions and then settles his gaze on the chief. I'm the person you need to master this coarse chief! Let me train you and your men. You'll be victorious every time another tribe challenges you with my training! Makon pumps his fist in the air to get a reaction from the crowd.
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Iovarl realizes that most of the tribal leaders seem to be more interested in physical skill, something he isn't especially good at. He finally hears about Mirtgog of the Murdered Child tribe and decides that talking his way in and out of trouble is clearly one of his talents.
Iovarl works his way around the camps looking for some likely people to ask about the Empty Hand tribe. He talks with various groups and individuals, but his best chance comes from a local trader who seems to be selling some fresh cooked meat from a stall.
"This meat is delicious. What did you say it was again?" says Iovarl between mouthfuls."I've never had wild boar before, it's quite a strong flavour but very nice. Could i have half a dozen more to take for my friends?"He continues talking to the vendor while he prepares and packages the order."So has anyone been talking about the Empty Hand tribe around here today? They seem to be the talk of the market today."
After gathering what information he can find he goes to talk to Chief Mirtgog and shares what he has found out.
"...i hope this information is of use to you, Chief. When i heard this i knew i had to bring this news to you."
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Having received the chieftain's approval, Atronia finds an elevated spot where plenty of people will be able to see her, meanwhile thinking about what story she could possibly tell that doesn't involve combat. She decides to tell of her latest adventure and simply omit the monsters they had to fight on the way. She climbs on a stack of crates and speaks up in a voice that easily carries over the crowd.
"Come, friends! Gather around and hear the story of a legendary being and how the people of Golarion had to work together to free it from its prison! Come on, come on, you deserve a break and a story. It is a story of legendary feats, of adventure, and cunning, and exotic places." When she feels the people whose interest she managed to pique have gathered around, she lowers her voice slightly and starts her story.
The many brave adventurers had to split to find the creature, so they went three ways: some through the scorched lands under the sun, some through bitterly frozen lands of the night, and some digging tunnels straight through the unworked stone. In these strange lands, no monsters were to be feared, no combat was to be had. It was the very nature and the will of the gods that the adventurers had to face. Those who went through the lands of night found an abandoned city of dazzling ice crystals, so bitter cold that nothing could live inside without magic. It was a strange, desolate place where a mad ghost was attacking anything that came close with wisps of magic. When the adventurers soothed her with a song, she told them that the one trapped inside had been put there by a god, and of her fear of reprisal from that very god, who frowned upon those who dared show near the prison he has built.
The passage through the frozen city was hard, and some of the groups of split-up adventurers were running out fo protective magic, but soon the greatest minds gathered to find a way to warm this place and, at the same time, cool the path of those who had gone to the other side of the comet. They had to make the whole comet turn with powerful magic. Yet, when they did, the ice started to melt and the adventurers had to be careful, for they could easily slip into seemingly endless voids that gaped on each side of their paths, and pieces of the frozen path now broke off. The adventurers' efforts brought the demise of a few of their own, who fell and were never found.
The most agile adventurers made it to the core of the comet, but that is when the wrath of a godly earth elemental was unleashed upon them. Rocks rained down on them as they approached a strange, gigantic, jewelled puzzle box that floated in the middle of a cavern. I will not give you all the details of the puzzle box, for that would be tedious, but know it was so intricate that it took dozens of adventurers to solve it while their comrades protected them from some of the hazards of the place, stopping and pushing back great hunks of rock. All had to find ways to anchor themselves to avoid being blown straight into the rocky walls as the thing inside the box struggled to get out, sending powerful gusts of wind in all directions. In the end, through feats of strength, agility and wits, they managed to free what was inside... almost. Inside the box, they found a perfectly smooth gem, which they brought back to Golarion. The creature inside is a powerful air elemental, a demi-god who can now communicate with us from inside the gem. Someday, it may very well be up to us all to participate in freeing him."
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Iovarl realizes that most of the tribal leaders seem to be more interested in physical skill, something he isn't especially good at. He finally hears about Mirtgog of the Murdered Child tribe and decides that talking his way in and out of trouble is clearly one of his talents.
Iovarl works his way around the camps looking for some likely people to ask about the Empty Hand tribe. He talks with various groups and individuals, but his best chance comes from a local trader who seems to be selling some fresh cooked meat from a stall.
"This meat is delicious. What did you say it was again?" says Iovarl between mouthfuls."I've never had wild boar before, it's quite a strong flavour but very nice. Could i have half a dozen more to take for my friends?"He continues talking to the vendor while he prepares and packages the order."So has anyone been talking about the Empty Hand tribe around here today? They seem to be the talk of the market today."
[dice=diplomacy]1d20+7
After gathering what information he can find he goes to talk to Chief Mirtgog and shares what he has found out.
"...i hope this information is of use to you, Chief. When i heard this i knew i had to bring this news to you."
"I need real information. Sneak into his tents, pocket some incriminating evidence, that is what I need."
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Makon considers challenging chief Kardook but thinks better of it Chiefs are great warriors most of them..I could end up embarrassing the Pathfinders. Petrok in his brief time in the Urgir Market also had heard that Chief Graffa was training on an obstacle coarse..I can ride, climb, swim, and survive in the wilderness pretty good! Maybe he needs a trainer? His mind made up, Makon makes his way to Chief Graffa's camp. As he pushes his way through chief Graffa's orc camp he (attempts) to intimidate a younger warrior in to granting him an audience with the chief, You ...yeah you! hey knuckle head, drop what you're doing and show me to the chief! I'm going to be his new trainer! What do you mean trainer for what! Trainer for the obstacle coarse...of coarse..now don't be a horses arse and show me to your chief! Makon cracks a grin at his own pun, when the young orc turns his back.** spoiler omitted **
When presented to the Chief, Makon gets strait to the point. So I've heard you got some obstacle coarse or something or other you're training on? Makon waits for the chiefs reply and then presents his case. I'm in need of a few tribal tokens. Perhaps we could come to an agreement? Makon looks at the obstacle coarse nearby sees that it has several water hazards. I'm an excellent swimmer, a good climber, and what's more I've survived alone in the wilderness of the Mindspin for weeks on end with no support! Makon looks around to judge the other Orcs reactions and then settles his gaze on the chief. I'm the person you need to master this coarse chief! Let me train you and your men. You'll be victorious every time another tribe challenges you with my training! Makon pumps his fist in the air to get a reaction from the crowd.
...
Graffa is impressed with Makon's swimming prowess, and rewards him for it.
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GrubGlub takes stock of the environment, and shivers. "This is certainly nothing like my warm and humid swamps.." he says in observation. "But the body must bend where the world will not." With a bow, he heads off looking for a way to procure more badges for the team.
After a while, he stumbles over some news.. it seems that Kardook of the Bloodied Gauntlet has an open challenge for Nonlethal Combat. Thinking that this was right up his alley, GrubGlub heads that way. When he gets there, he observes the trials and the different styles that are used in this part of the world. He picks up a few tricks watching, then approaches the Chieftain with a bow. "I am GrubGlub, martial artist and open hand fighter from the jungles and swamps of the Great Mwangi Exapanse!" he says by way of introduction. "I have heard of your challenge, and would wish to trade knowledge with you. I will accept your fight, then perhaps we may teach each other some examples of each traditions? It would benefit us both, and knowledge is never lost or wasted.. only something to be longed for!"
With this, GrubGlub enters the ring, casting aside his enveloping robes and his weapons so that he may fight in his little cloth with simply his long fingered and webbed hands and his springy and lean legs.
He closes fast with his opponent, and after feinting one direction, quickly springs the other and wraps his legs and arms around the unfortunate soul, throwing the creature into a pin.
[dice=Grapple]1d20+8Once the match is over, he bows to the Chieftain, then spends the next few hours teaching and learning the ways of hand to hand fighting this particular tribe uses.
The grippli is able to get the much larger orc into a compromising position greatly impressing Kardook!
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GrubGlub bows to the chieftain, and takes his leave. Almost as soon as he leaves that camp, he meets up with Iovarl and hears that he has been tasked with stealing information from another Orc chieftain. Without even considering for a moment, the little grippli volunteers to help the scholar. "Tell you what.. You show me where we are going and keep a lookout, and I can sneak in and get what we need! Then you can take it back to Chief Mirtgog for his approval. What do you say?"
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Makon runs in to Atronia on his way to chief Gekgaro's So he didn't like your story huh? Most Orcs prefer a crass sense of humor rather than heroic tales..tell you what..if I have time I'll go give it a try with old sleepy chieftain after I'm through negotiating with chief Gekgaro..In the mean time..why don't you look in to the Steel Eater tribe? Chief Bukog is their chief and as their name suggest ..they have a tradition of Weapons making and Black-Smiths in their tribe. Don't know exactly what you might say to him to get him to part with some of their tribal tokens but, perhaps you'll think of something along the way? Makon looks at the sun and observes it's already past mid-day. Time is running short if I've got two more chieftains to visit. I'll catch you later this evening at camp Atronia.. Makon trots off in the direction of the Broken spine tribe at the edge of the city.
When Makon arrives at the camp of the Broken Spine, things seem to be in disarray. There seems to be a division in camp of whether or not to camp close to the relative safety of Urgir in the winter or camp further abroad making it easier to raid and hunt but also more vulnerable to Last wall war parties. Having been raised by men for the most part, Makon was ill at ease with most of his 1/2 kin's savage ways. However, he did recognize that, each people had a right to exists and by and large live peaceably if they left others in peace. With this in mind he approached chief Gekgaro.
Great Chief, it has been made know to me that your old winter camp has become untenable because of frequent winter raids by the soldiers of last wall. I have come here to ask for an exchange. I myself seek safe passage through your lands and the lands of other chieftains in Belkzan. If you could depart with a few tribal Tokens to aid myself and my companions, I will use my considerable skill at survival to find you and your tribe a suitable winter camp closer to the city but, not so close that it prohibits all hunting or raiding Makon finishes his speech and looks around. Sure hope this works! [b] What say you great chieftain of my proposal?[/i]
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Medda takes a deep breath. "Over 900 years ago, a powerful warrior named Ivvora came into our camp. She spoke of an angel named Vildeis...."
"Wait a moment. 'She'? The 'powerful warrior' is a woman? Come now that can't be right." Ardentask says with a jaunty laugh.
"'Belkzen'? Hrmph. They'll never get me to one of those orc holds." Ardentask says fussily.
Dread grows upon me at every turn of the carriage's wheels as we approach the bastion of Makon's accursed kind--Belkzen, the broken land of savagery.
My fellow writers have insisted that I not go meekly into this heart of darkness but rather prepared. Thus, I have packed several days worth of granola and deep-fried kale, and purchased a rather gritty-looking, monogrammed waterskein, and a warm parka and snowshoes for when our expedition inevitably leads us northward to those mountains of madness Medda's people call home. It has been days now and my ears still hurt from the boxing she gave them.... The added weight of all this extra gear is quite daunting, hopefully there will be some staid natives I might hire to carry my things once we are forced by terrain to leave all creature comforts, like carriages, behind.
"Apparently the stars were not quite right, Atronia." Humbert says shaking his head. Suddenly his hands go to his ears and he adds in a slightly panicked tone: "But your speaking voice is really quite good."
he continues: "I have several stories of my own that they a might find entertaining if only for the tales' more lurid scenes. Oh, but please note, I do use the formal version of Taldane in my stories, so 'color' is 'colour', and 'specter' is 'spectre', and so on. Oh, and that word there is pronounced 'pseudopoidal.'"
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Discomfited by the lack of success her story had, Atronia goes wandering about. When she meets Makon, she tries to force a smile. "You may be right. When he said he didn't want to hear about any violence I thought maybe..." She lets her voice trail and listens to Makon's suggestion. "I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I might as well try."
Atronia keeps walking around, absentmindedly listening to conversations around her. When she comes upon the Steel Eater tribe, she approaches some who are working at their craft. She observes them for a moment, complimenting them as she passes by each smith. She stops between one smith and their leader, and casually comments, after yet another compliment, "You know, I'm not as experienced as you working steel, but I've heard it said you can make it even stronger by folding it multiple times as you work it. I've never seen anyone use the method, but it sure would be interesting to see. Would you try it? As a sort of experiment."
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"You're certainly welcome to try Grubglub. You're much smaller and more nimble than me so you certainly stand a better chance than me. I'd likely triup over my own feet and be caught in seconds!"
Iovarl tries something a bit out of his element and goes to see if he is a natural at taming the gorthek.
He approaches the best slowly but confidently while trying to keep eye contact with the creature to show it he's in charge.
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Before he sets off to earn his reputation with any tribe leader, Enrique retreats to his quiet room in the Grand Lodge where he sits calmly for one hour, conversing with the malevolent spirit of Sir Enrique in his mind and allowing any party members to join in his seance. In the end, he manages to shift the conqueror's spirit's focus from battle to a mindset he thinks would help in Leader Benta's task - tending to animals.
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After a bit of running around, Makon at last finds himself at the tents and huts of the Steel Eater Tribe. He wanders around the various smith shops and stalls and inspects weapons and other goods. After, some time looking at the surprisingly good work of the Steel Eater Tribe, Makon makes a decision to approach the chief and request an audience.
Greetings clever and mighty Bukog! Your tribes skill with metal has lived up to it's reputation. I've spent this afternoon inspecting many of the weapons and other implements your tribe crafts and well as a craftsmen my self...I must say, your work is good....better than most I'd say including humans. Makon is not lying as indeed the Steel Eater Tribe it seems, have become experts at crafting weapons at least.
There is one small complaint chieftain. About you weapons and wares. Although, the durability and ability hold an edge on your blades is nearly un-matched; I believe the hilt padding to be bellow your otherwise excellent standards on most of your blades. As fortune has it..my father taught me the trade of a master leather worker and given a few hours..I could teach some of your hilt wrappers some techniques of softening the leather cord and under-wrap winding that holds on the hilt longer. In exchange I only ask for a few tribal tokens to allow safe passage in Belkzen. Makon looks hopefully at the chief. What will your answer be chief Bukog?
Unfortunately Makon is out of breath and has had one too many ale's when he approaches Chief Bukog.
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Humbert tells his tales, appropriately embellished with his supernatural spookiness, keeping the chieftain entertained for some time.
"Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li! cried the unnamable monstrosity from beyond time and rational thought. Tekeli-li!" Humbert finishes with his best impression of a wailing, idiot slime beast.
Invigorated by the experience, Humbert slaps his hands together and says: "Well, what's next?"
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Having traveled for more than a week through the harsh lands of Belkzen, the Twinhorn warriors grow excited as they come within a few days’ travel of their homeland.
As the sun dips behind the Smokespur mountains, the sound of drums start to echo off the rocky canyon walls, starting slowly at first, but quickly increasing in pace. Medda turns from her lead position in the caravan and shouts “Look out! Ambush!”
The drumming continues as a boulder hurtles from the mountain and lands on the lead wagon, sending splinters flying in all directions. Clouds of dust billow off the mountainside as dozens of orcs surge from the foothills and chant to the beat of the drums. Arrows and boulders begin to rain from the slopes.
Medda calls out, “Pathfinders, someone is willing to risk Uldeth’s ire by attacking us! I need some of you to meet their vanguard, others to guard the caravan, and a third group to take out their archers.”
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A mass of orcs and their monstrous allies charges down the foothills. Remnants of an ancient dwarven outpost provide cover and an obstacle in their path; it is the most defensible position from which to confront the enemy vanguard.
An orc warrior with three yipping coyotes at his heel come straight at you, shouting ”“For the glory of Gutrattle!”
These coyotes are smaller than their wolf cousins. They grin with sharp teeth, and they look hungry and perhaps abused.
A typical orc warrior on the warpath. Orc ferocity is well known, and they will remain fighting after being mortally wounded, long after most humanoids would fall unconscious from the pain.
3
1
6
8
7
2
4
5
- => Enrique
- => Makon
- => Atronia
- Orc
- Dogs
- Grubglub
- Iovari
- Humbert
U = Unconscious
S = Surprised
D = Delay
=> Active
Conditions:
Atronia 12/12
Enrique 15/15
Grubglub 19/19
Humbert 9/9
Iovara 15/15
Makon 11/11
Enemies:
Red Orc:
Green Dog:
Blue Dog:
Pink Dog:
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"Gutrattle? Is that supposed to be threatening?" Atronia asks mockingly as she advances upon the ennemies. More seriously, she adds, "I'd target the orc first. I don't think those trained coyotes like him much. Let me sing a little song for you." She starts singing a song about a man who tried to train a bear. It is a rather funny song, but still gives courage to those who hear it.
[dice=Knowledge (nature)]1d20+2
[dice=Knowledge (local)]1d20+6"Gutrattle? Is that supposed to be threatening?" Atronia asks mockingly as she advances upon the ennemies. More seriously, she adds, "I'd target the orc first. I don't think those trained coyotes like him much. Let me sing a little song for you." She starts singing a song about a man who tried to train a bear. It is a rather funny song, but still gives courage to those who hear it.
- => Enrique
- => Makon
- x Atronia
- Orc
- Dogs
- Grubglub
- Iovari
- Humbert
U = Unconscious
S = Surprised
D = Delay
=> Active
Conditions:
Atronia 12/12
Enrique 15/15
Grubglub 19/19
Humbert 9/9
Iovara 15/15
Makon 11/11
Enemies:
Red Orc:
Green Dog:
Blue Dog:
Pink Dog:
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Makon moves forward and hollers at the Orc warrior with the canines. You should have stayed at home with your pitiful mutts.. Makon spouts in orcish. You and your dogs will be crow food in moments!
As Makon moves forward here hears the inspiring battle song of the Skald and lets the music fuel his inner Rage..
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The orc looks concerned about the apparent brutality of the team's half-orc, but still orders the dogs forward. He moves to get clear, and throws his javelin at Makon.
The dogs then close in on their targets!
- D Enrique
- x Makon [YELLING!]
- x Atronia
- x Orc
- x Dogs
- Grubglub
- Iovari
- Humbert
U = Unconscious
S = Surprised
D = Delay
=> Active
Conditions:
Atronia 11/12
Enrique 15/15
Grubglub 19/19
Humbert 9/9
Iovara 15/15
Makon 3/11 [-1NL]
Enemies:
Red Orc: [SHAKEN]
Green Dog:
Blue Dog:
Pink Dog:
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Iovarl moves round the rocky wall and sees that Makon is getting worn down by the attacking dogs.
"Don't worry Makon, Iomadae will bless me with a celestial ally to help you!" he shouts
Iovarl chants some now familiar words as he conjures a celestial eagle to help his half orc ally.
N Small celestial animal
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision Perception +9
DEFENSE
AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 12 (+2 Dex, +1 natural, +1 size)
hp [7] [1d8+3]
Fort [+5], Ref +4, Will +2
SR 5
Celestial – Resist cold 5, acid 5, electricity 5
OFFENSE
Speed 10ft., fly 80 ft. (average)
Melee 2 talons [+3] [1d4+2], bite [+3] [1d4+2]
Special Attacks smite evil
STATISTICS
Str [14], Dex 15, Con [16], Int 2, Wis 15, Cha 7
Base Atk +0; CMB [+1]; CMD [13]
Feats Weapon Finesse
Skills Fly +8, Perception +10; Racial Modifiers +8 Perception
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Smite evil 1/day as a swift action (adds CHA bonus (+0) to attack rolls and damage bonus equal to HD (+1) against evil foes; smite persists until target is dead or the celestial creature rests).
The eagle flaps it wings trying to hover in place as it rips into the dog with it's beak and talons.