GM Sloth's "The God's Market Gamble" PFS (Inactive)

Game Master ThreeEyedSloth

The summons that each of you received from Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng is brief and a bit odd.

“Meet Kreighton Shaine in the stables to discuss missing artifacts.”

Aside from some briefings during training, few Pathfinders deal with the Society’s Master of Scrolls. As you each begin to arrive at Absalom's Grand Lodge, one of the servants explains that once everyone has assembled, Venture-Captain Shaine will see you.

The order that you post is the order that you arrive. Use this as an opportunity to roleplay a little bit and get to know each other before we fully begin.

Rolf looked around the stables for a sign of Shaine or his peers. The big Ulfen regarded the steeds kept there with equal parts respect and reverence.

I trust you are at least well cared for brothers.

A man seemingly glides into the Grand Lodge stables. He wears a cloak with his up. His features seem almost chiseled, his chin a little too pointy, hos eyes almost black. He listens to the servant, nods at a tall Ulfen man and goes to stand near one of the corners, facing the door.

The northman rested a big hand on the neck a nearby horse, startled by the newcomer's presence.

"You frighten the animals", he calls out to the hooded figure. "One has to wonder, why?"

Rolf is a massive Ulfen hailing for the frozen north. Although musclebound and ponderous in his movements, he carries himself with a grace that belies his bulk. A long dark mane stretches down his back and his beard is tied into a neat pair of twisting braids. Every exposed inch of hardened flesh, aside from his hands and most of his face, are covered in elaborate tattoos in the shapes of beasts.

He wears an iron breastplate across his barreled torso and a worn hide kilt. Across his back is a deadly hunting spear.

Entering the stables next is a human woman with Chelish features of average height. Her dark hair is cut short, and a vest of dark turquoise is worn over her leather armor. Lines of metal studs adorn the armor, and her hand rests on the hilt of her longsword.

Iolande looks to the men in turn, giving each a silent nod of greeting, before she keeps to another side of the stables, with one eye on the door.

Rolf greeted the woman in turn with a sharp nod and a grunt but kept his attention of the first one, whose presence had felt so... unnatural.

At least she's a pretty one.

A tall, muscular red-skinned man stares at the strange summons as he walks into the stables, scrunching up the visible part of his face. The rest, from the nose below, is hidden by a large scarf of a deeper red, wrapped around his neck. He is entirely bald, and a lone horn protudes from his forehead. Aside from the scarf, the towering tiefling is lightly dressed, in light pants and a barbed vest.

He nods to the ones already there, missing the comment on the animals being frightened. The oni-spawn also unsettles the beasts, as he quickly notices, so he at least takes care to keep his distance from them as he waits.

Demonspawn! What the hell has Dreng signed me up for?

Rolf watched the red-skinned man and shifted uncomfortably, not entirely unlike the animal he'd been trying to calm.

As another enters, and she notes the reactions from both Rolf and the horses, the lone woman in the room lets out a clear laugh.

"Well," Iolande says, her accent Galtish. "If nothing else, this will prove to be a memorable meeting.

Daimonji does a good enough job ignoring the horses and the visibly uncomfortable Ulfen, keeping his arms crossed (no small feat with the barbed vest) and his eyes locked on the door.

But the laugh? Earns Iolande a narrowed-eye look. After a moment, however, the onispawn's face relaxes. "Guess'm a memorable person," he states in a low, gravelly voice with hints of a Tien accent.

Ryster turns to Rolf. Hey, you say demonspawn like its a bad thing. What you got against it. He the turn and nods to Daimonji and Iolande

Anything that I write in italics is internal monologue. Rolf didn't say that stuff aloud.

Rolf swallowed a rising growl in his throat.

"In any case, Dreng will be wanting us to work together. Explore, cooperate, report and all that nonsense..."

The musclebound warrior crossed the distance dividing them and offered a meaty hand to the red-skinned demon-man.

"Rolf Hakonson, though some here have come to calling me 'Beastheart'."

He offers the same handshake to all others present.

The large red-skinned man's eyebrow lifted. A handshake was offered, and after a moment of hesitation, accepted with a strong grip.

"Jus' call me Daimonji. You ain't my usual crew, but I know the rules well'nough." He nodded again to the rest assembled.

My mistake, scrolled down to fast and did not pay attention to italics. Or maybe Ryster is a mind reader.

Get out of my head!

Just waiting on Tiasar and Jake, and then we'll begin.

When the hands are offered, Iolande gives a firm handshake. There is no dainty movements from her.

"Good to meet you," she answers. "Iolande Hafford. Pretty new to Absalom and the Society, and I never understood the pattern on which the Captains chose their agents. Then again, it's not my job to know."

"Speaking of," Iolande says. "Where is the man of the hour, anyway?"

A pale, dark haired elf quickly strolls in. He nearly walks into a wall since he's reading a scroll, and right before he puts it away it appears he whispers to a raven on his shoulder. The raven looks around with startling intelligence, fluffing its wings and cawing loudly. The elf looks up as if he just noticed he got there, then looks around the room
"Greetings, I am Tiasar Auvrelth, wi..."
He trails off as his eyes fall upon the tiefling. He just stares for a moment, then he smiles and takes out an enormous book that he starts scribbling in. After a few weird looks he catches himself and stops, putting the book away "Apologies, I'm researching much about the planes, but I forget that I have other matters to attend to" While Tiasar seems somewhat oblivious to his surroundings occasionally, anyone paying attention to the raven notices it constantly looks around the room, usually staring at people over animals.

Prepared spells: 0th level-Detect Magic, Read Magic, Mage Hand. 1st Level-Summon Monster 1, Grease, Sleep, Silent Image.
Depending on what kind of situations we're going into I might change my spells. If we spend a day in town I'll have more benign, illusion or enchantment spells. If we're traveling, I might have more explosive spells. For now this is a halfway point

"Dunno, I think they draw from a hat." Then again, he seemed to run into Kyra a lot, so maybe someone on the Decemvirate just has a sense of humor.

The red-skinned tiefling's eyes darted over to the door, as came in the man of the hou... oh, never mind. That Tiasar fellow goes and writes to Daimonji's face, earning him a low growl from behind the concealing scarf.

But he stops, and the growl fades, though the onispawn's eyes remain narrowed. "Daimonji," he says tersely. He does not offer his hand.

An elf, a wizard no doubt.

Hrolf greets the newcomer with a fierce handshake.

As Daimonji gives him a growl and dark look, Tiasar quickly realizes his mistake and tries to backpedal
"Ah my apologies, I meant no offense! I just find your race exceedingly fascinating, and one of my best consultants at the wizard school was a tiefling. He told me of how tieflings can all be very different, and I was just making a note of your physical appearance"
Tiasar tries to offer a smile, hoping he hasn't made an enemy.
As he shakes Hrolf's hand, despite himself a small gasp escapes his lips "Ah, you have quite the grip friend. I'm glad we have a strong hand along with us" After introductions are made, Tiasar begins to reach for his journal. His hand freezes, and he glances at Daimonji, and he decides to read a little. He pulls out a small, very thick book titled "Magical Creatures: Volume III" in elven

Wizards.

Daimonji doesn't return the smile, though it's rather hard to tell. The best he does is shrug and stop paying mind to that elf as he resumes waiting silently.

Opting to read was likely a wise move, though.

Jake strides purposefully into the stables. He walks very erect, almost military in nature. The hilt of a fine Two-Handed Sword sticks out above his shoulder. He is large, well-muscled, cleanly-groomed, and his Breastplate shines. He glances briefly at the motley crew gathered for the meeting.

His eyes rest a moment on each individual, but lastly upon the large Ulfen.

Sorry all, I did not think that I was late. Jake Hargrove is the name.

He steps up to the Ulfen and extends his hand for a firm handshake, and he does so around the room.

This seems like an interesting crew. I cannot wait to hear the mission details.

Tiasar smiles and greets Jake warmly, wincing slightly at the handshake. After Jake passes, he looks down at his throbbing hand I think I may have just survived the most dangerous part of this journey

The raven perched on Tiasar's shoulder suddenly becomes alive, then turns and seems to whisper something in his ear. "Would you like me to check the area for the man you wait for?

Tiasar nods, and the raven takes off

"Since Scrollmaster Shaine isn't here yet, you technically aren't late," says a dark-haired woman with a Galtish accent. She returns the firm handshake with one of her own, but she does not have the matching strength. "Iolande Hafford."

Hrolf gripped Jake's forearm in a warrior's handshake. This was the sort of Pathfinder he wanted at his back. A strong sword was better than any magic.

He's no Ulfen but at least he's not a damned monster...

"The missive gave no details. We will have to wait for Shaine to arrive if we hope to learn more."

After a brief moment, Kreighton Shaine and a stable boy stroll into the muddy stables, the elf's scholarly robes dragging through the muck. His soft shoes are clearly soaked through, though he doesn't seem to notice. He barely seems he even notices all of you as his eyes drift around the stables.

“I’ve been working on an extensive study of religious relics, trying to ascertain whether items gain a certain aura of divinity that cannot be detected through normal means. I’ve been collecting these artifacts through a series of well-known dealers in the God’s Market. We’ve never had any trouble before, but recently several of our couriers have been waylaid by a particularly elusive bandit.” Kreighton pauses briefly as his mud-soaked robe snags on a nail and he nearly falls over, but the stable boy catches his arm and steadies him.

You speak as if you know this bandit, Master Shaine or at least have some clues to his identity?

Daimonji returns Jake's handshake with a firm grip of his own, and introduces himself briefly to the human, as before.

And finally the man they were told to meet arrives. The large half-oni pays no mind when Shaine almost falls, as the stable boy seems to have it well in hand.

Instead, his eyes light up at the mention of a bandit. The edges of a smile are visible from behind his scarf as he hits a fist against his open palm. Subtle, real subtle.

Kreighton stands himself back up, and then continues as if the Tiefling's words were completely silent to him.

“As they were headed through the Ascendant Court, a group of thugs ambushed our couriers. The first time I thought it was a coincidence—a random mugging. After the second time, however, Grandmaster Torch had some harsh words with me. He suspects someone has targeted our couriers specifically. The Drandle boy suggested I have you investigate the disappearances..."

"Dreng must suspect this is big if he called for a full group of Pathfinders to see to it", the big Ulfen muses.

"What else do you know about the attacks?"

Tiasar nods and listens while Kreighton speaks, and after a bit he quietly casts detect magic and scans the newcomers. After a minute he coughs to get their attention

"How do you propose we begin searching for this bandit?"

Morde fluffs his feathers as he adjusts himself on the roof. Staying out under bright-light-moon is better than hot-small-man-nest... Morde keeps quiet and scans the area for any newcomers

Perception1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

As Hrolf and Tiasar ask their questions, there is a long, uncomfortable pause and for a minute it seems the elf has completely forgotten he was discussing something.

Hrolf clears his throat. Loudly.

Shaine glances up with a sort of stunned look on his face.

“Oh yes, here, this list will help you. The Grandmaster has helpfully provided it as a starting point.”

After the elf hands Hrolf the folded parchment, he begins pacing and staring into the empty corners of the stables.

Assuming we all read the letter. Also, do you like having a separate alias for my familiar? I thought that maybe since he could talk it might make things easier

"Thank you Shaine, this will be of great help" Tiasar looks to the others "What do you all think of talking to the witnesses in chronological order?"

I'm assuming you're all passing around the letter and reading it. Also, that's fine.

Hrolf glances at the note, sees too many words, and then hands it off to the clearly more interested elf.

"Are there any forces within Abasalom working to solves these crimes? Will we be expected to report to city guards of some sort?"

"I believe we are the force being expected to solve the problem. I believe the only report that will be necessary is the final one to the society once this mystery is solved"

Reading over the shoulder of others, Iolande's eyes glimmer with amusement at Grandmaster Torch's preamble regarding the Scrollmaster. She reads on, and tilts her head to the side.

"Maybe we should start with questioning the three witnesses, and see if we can find a pattern or identifying mark for these bandits."

"I believe we are the force being expected to solve the problem. I believe the only report that will be necessary is the final one to the society once this mystery is solved"

"That's good news. I hate paperwork."

Hrolf nods at Iolande's suggestion.

"I agree with the woman", the Ulfen announces. "To Cayden’s Hall."

Ryster listens to all the others, reads the letter before passing it on to Jake. Aye, I think we should go to Cayden's.

Jake quickly scans the letter.

Indeed, let us begin the investigation. I do have one question. Can you tell me more about the "tenuous" relationship with the Graycloaks? Has there been violence between them and the Pathfinders? If so, it may be difficult to keep our swords sheathed in dealings with them?

Venture-Captain Shaine quickly turns to address the question but his eyes end up locked with one of the mares in its pen. The elf's eyes open wide, as if he suddenly remembered something very important.

“The Graycloaks are a force of professed nonbelievers who police the God’s Market and the entire Ascendant Court. Their atheist bent is meant to ensure that no one group of worshipers receives any special treatment.

“Currently the Graycloaks are investigating the muggings, but seem to treat this as a relatively low priority. Apparently they feel these stolen treasures are ‘mere curiosities’ of no consequence."

Shaine pivots suddenly and begins pacing back and forth across the stables, his hands becoming much more animated as he continues to talk, seemingly without stopping for even a breath.

“There have been two robberies so far. The first stolen relic was a shard from a lance Iomedae used in a battle with a demon when she was mortal. The other was a pen that a Chelish noble claims was used by Asmodeus to create the accord with House Thrune. Neither of the relics has been validated as authentic, so their worth is questionable. Nevertheless, they are invaluable to study and the fact that they are likely going to be sequestered in some private museum or collection is infuriating to the Society!”

With that, Shaine swiftly storms out of the stables, with mud splashing further on his robes as he stomps away.

The stable boy clears his throat and timidly approaches the group.

"Uh, Mr. Shaine, uh, he was supposed to give you these, but, um... I guess he forgot. Here you go."

In his hands are various missives addressed to each of you.

Daimonji, even though he just doesn't seem to be the type for subtle investigations, carefully takes in Grandmaster Torch's words. He glances to Shaine, as though expecting more in the way of instructions.

"Guess jus' so long as we don't get in the Greycloaks' way or leave that bandit bleedin' in a dark alleyway. They'll wanna interrogate him, I bet," he muses. "Got no objection to checkin' the witnesses in order."

And then Shaine leaves without... Oh, wait, the stableboy's got it. The large red man reads his second letter from Grandmaster Torch today, nods silently to himself, and carefully folds it up.

Hrolf crumples the note, stows it, and nods.

"Let's get going then. The longer we take, the better the chances the trail will go cold."

Cayden’s Hall first.

Along the way, the big Ulfen tries to gather some additional information about the thefts.

Diplomacy to Gather Info w/ Enhanced Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 7 + 2 = 20

If anyone else also wants to make Diplomacy or Knowledge Local checks along the way, feel free to roll 'em.

Daimonji nods to Hrolf, cracking his knuckles and heading out.

Noticing what his teammate is doing, he stops to gather information too, though his bumbling attempts are likely doomed to hilarious failure.

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (10) - 3 = 7

Ryster reads his missive carefully, then folds and stores it in one of his myriad of pockets. As they head to Cayden's Hall he looks to the other. I'm gonna make some inquiries along the way. If I lag behind, don't worry I'll be close enough to see you.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Know Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9