GM Singer's Jade Regent Campaign

Game Master Vuvu

"Aye, perhaps we should see what trickery is being played out behind the door."

Engir moves to the door, readies his axe, then kicks open the door.

Do I need a Break Door, roll?
Strength: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

The pantry door crashes open with the aid of Engir's heavy boot.

Bound and gagged on the floor is what appears to be Waltus Proudstump. His eyes go wide when he sees the big warrior before him with axe in hand, but his eyes shift to the sides as though he were looking for an even greater threat. When the old halfling's eyes focus on the pile of melting slag that was once his evil counterpart, he seems to relax some. His voice comes out in a muffle behind the gag.

Grrd wrrfk! Nrr geh' meh urtah' hur! He hops on his side and comes down with a thud. The same kind of thud heard moments ago by the heroes.

Dorvren quickly sheathes his mace and knife and moves to free Waltus. First removing his gag, then untying his bonds Sometimes people need a SoH for this 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

You are safe Mr. Proudstump...sorry...I'm Dorvren.

Dorvren quickly moves to retrieve the dagger he left in the shapeshifter, moving to the back of the party to both resharpen and restow it up his sleeve, not wanting to have to assume one of his personas to speak with Waltus, he tries to be as unassuming as possible.

As door bursts into splinters, Engir prepares to swing his axe at the hidden foe, only to see a halfling bound on the floor.

"It seems the fates have intervened on your behalf little one."

Engir scoops up the halfling in one hand (not bothering to untie him) and presents him to the party.

"I believe this is the actual little one we have come to find."

Waltus Proudstump, still rather proud in his demeanor despite the days event, shrugs off the loose rope and nods to Engir and Dorvren who have freed him.

Aye, lucky I was that you come along as you did. The halfling says. Eggs begin to burn over the fire. Waltus walks over and takes the small pan away from the flames. Pity.. He mutters, looking the eggs over with regret.

He looks to the heroes. I am Waltus Proudstump, THE Waltus Proudstump, warden and snake-wrangler of this fine marsh. Might I ask what you are all doing so deep into the swamps? Not that I mind, of course. The rescue is most welcome, thank you.

To the party, Emerald laughs, "Next time in addition to goblin armies and The Big Bad Wolf, I'll add dopplegangers to my list of things that don't need to answer the door."

Turning to Waltus she says, "Mr Proudstump, I'm very glad to meet you, the real you, I'm Emerald. We heard about a tribe of goblins near here that have been attacking caravans. From the one caravan they brutally slaughtered, they seized a shipment of fireworks."

Gesturing to the party she continues, "We'd like to prevent the goblins from using the fireworks against anyone. The nice old man, Cletus or Chester or Fester, who gave us a ride out here said you're an expert on the area and could probably point us to them. We'd appreciate you telling us what you know about them, how to find them, and how not to get lost on the way to them."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31

Listening to Waltus, Drovren smiles to himself, and quietly mutters.

Drovren marvels at how easily Emerald is able to speak to someone that she has never met before.

Aloria looks form the doppelganger to the halfing and back again... her hands go to her head and her fingers course through her purple locks... "That... " she pauses a moment and shakes her head as her hands return to her side, "... was disturbing."

She turns to the halfling, "Ahhh... Waltus, any hurts or the like you need tended? Since you know... I seemed to have healed your capture by mistake..."

Aloria is obviously distributed and worried about the incident with the shapechanger.

Aye, disturbing is one way to put it. Some folk might call it downright horrifying. Waltus says, tossing the eggs out the front door and into the swamp. He then puts a kettle over the fire. That thing attacked me this morning. It looked like one of the local trackers but when I gave it a good look its skin crawled like a snake shedding. Proudstump shudders. It must have been....full. It's belly was large and it locked me in that pantry there then took my form when it heard you approach.

The old halfling smiles at Emerald, obviously taken with her friendly nature. The Licktoads have been stirred up lately by something, sure as sure. The goblins have been patrolling the swamps in number and seem to be looking for something. Bold as brass they are, and bitter as lemon weed. I'll take you to their camp if you need a guide. It's the least I can do.

Walrus shrugs out of his beautiful looking cloak. And one of you best take this. It will help you if you truly aim to stop the Licktoads.

Waltus gives the party his +1 cloak of resistance.

Engir looks down at the halfling with his arms crossed as he hears his tale.

"Well then it does seem something foul is going on in this bog. I am ready to begin the murder-make and be done with these foul creatures."

Knowing that the locals don´t observ the ritual of non accepting a gift 3 times, Gohei bows elegantly and says:[b]"We are happy giving you a bit of help. The gift is not necessary, but we accept gladly."[b]

Slipping into the persona of Visarus a traveling Bard.[ooc]Bluff 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

Thank you Mr. Proudstump for the gift, and the guide. Where do you think this spawn of the pit came from? Think he is allied with the Licktoads? Are you fit to travel?

Emerald smiles broadly at the offer and gift, "Thank you Mr Proudstump, you're doubly gracious; we can use all the help we can get. If you guide us, you should head back before it gets too dangerous for you to make it safely home on your own."

"If we can, we'll stop back by here when we're victorious and give you an update so you know the woods are safe again. It will also give us a chance to boast of our bravery," she winks and laughs.

Waltus takes out several clay cups and pours a thin tea into each of them. The aroma is earthy and sweet.

Think nothing of the cloak. If I were dead then nothing but the mold would wear it. He grins. And I have no fear of goblins, fair woman, nor any danger in this swamp. I will stand with you if combat should erupt. It is a wardens job, you understand, and I take my job quite seriously.

You seem to remember the people of Sandpoint saying that no one had actually appointed Waltus Proudstump with the task of swamp warden, however, the halfling seems quite dedicated to the role nonetheless.

Waltus cooks up a thick broth of green tubbers and clams and serves the heroes lunch. While they eat he answers any questions they may have.

The halfling scratches the stubble on his chin and considers Dorvren's question. Not sure where that odd creature came from nor what its intent was. However, I doubt it had anything to do with the Licktoads. They aren't much for outsiders of any sort for there chief is as proud as a porcupine and twice as prickly!

Picture of Waltus Proudstump

Dorvren forces himself to relax out of his persona.

Thank you...Mr. Proudstump...the monster said...that the goblins were massing for an attack...do you think that is true?

He takes a deep breath and sips his tea, trying to still his nerves in front of a new acquaintance.

munching on tubers the gnome smiles and nods her head in thanks/ Once her mouth is empty she asks, "What brought you out to this swampland Waltus?"

Engir stands stooping in the small hut, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Methinks we should get on with murder-make of the goblins, it will be nightfall soon, and bogs can be of uneven footing."

Dorvren mutters to himself...

With a shrug Aloria nods, "I suppose there will be time to chat when those gobbies are dead." She stands and looks to the others to see if they are ready to get going.

Ikoma stretches for a bit and nods."It is time to start tracking those goblins. he says.

Dorvren finishes his tea, checks his gear and steps outside.

Shall we?

Ikoma leaves the home of Waltus and prepares to move on. He is itchy to get going and do his dutys.