GM Tarondor's Trouble in Tamran (PFS Scenario 7-07) TABLE "A" (Inactive)

Game Master Tarondor

Violet mills among the crowd, kind of taking in what people are eating and seeing what looks appealing. While trying to hear bits of conversation of hearing things that might be relevant.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Tekkannan quietly observes the crowd and what they are drinking, wondering if it is too early by local custom to order wine.

Zhatara's friendliness pays off. After 1d3 ⇒ 3 hours, she meets Lily and Lilah, two human musicians who make money with a dueling lute act. In between sets at the taproom, they're happy to talk.

"Hello! You're a new face, aren't you? Well, welcome. Sit and tell all about your travels!"

"Me? Well there's nothing too exciting to talk about I fear. I'm just a merchant who came here in Tamaran searching for stolen cargo. Seems like bandits have been particularly active in the last few months, so me and my companions have come here to try to salvage what we can of our enterprise..."

Bluff check: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16

Lily says, “I heard the thefts were fake. One of those Pathfinders was in here a few weeks back asking around about the Shining Crusade, wanting to know if anyone had a picture or a drawing of what the soldiers back then looked like. I asked her about the thefts, and she said it was all a lie to let the smugglers drive up the prices.”

Lilah adds, “Yeah, I remember that elf. She gave me the willies, her and her boyfriend both. Glad I haven’t seen them around town lately.”

"As a matter of fact I can attest the thefts were not fake at all... but I'm intrigued... can you describe these pathfinders? Strange they asked about the Shining Crusade... is there some place related to that particular scuffle nearby?" asks Zhatara innocently...

The two sisters laugh. "This is where the Shining Crusade did a lot of its fighting, all those years ago! I think that's probably where Tamran got its start. Or something like that. It's not unusual for scholars and treasure-seekers to come in and ask questions like that. We get one every year or so, it seems like," Lilah says.

"They were elves," Lily adds. "Oh, and I thought they smelled like...like a root cellar. Sort of...herbal."

"A bit... swampy... perhaps?" asks Tekkannan

The two ladies shrug. "No. Just like old dried herbs, really."

Your conversation is pleasant and goes on for a few more minutes, but you learn nothing further here.

Zhatara looks disappointed:"I see... Well thanks then, I suppose we could look into these ruins ourselves" she says before motioning for the others to follow her out of the establishment.

Seems like we did what we could here. IIRC there was still one other place where we could go... The Forest Bounty Inn

So you head over to the Forest Bounty inn.

The interior of this enormous wooden long house is brightly lit and filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and merriment. Food scents mingle with the smoke of cooking fires and tobacco pipes. Servants carry food and drinks from the open kitchen area to the various wooden benches and tables that fill the hall. Many of the patrons are armed and armored, proudly bearing the insignia of local militia groups on their cloaks and tabards, along with the sword and tree symbol of Nirmathas.

You attract immediate attention upon entering the feast hall, causing all conversation and music to stop momentarily as the patrons turn to examine the new arrivals. The many, many citizen soldiers and veterans of the Molthuni wars stare at you and slowly return to their drinks, grumbling.

Zhatara tries to mingle and learn something useful from the people here...

Diplomacy check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Dalgron bites on his hand to resist his urge to blurt something out, and instead has a look around for anything odd.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

A wounded veteran clad in a green cloak bearing the symbol of Nirmathas approaches you. He walks with a noticeable limp and is missing his left arm from the elbow down.

“Now is not a good time for strangers to be asking questions in Tamran. There are rumors that spies walk among us and that Pathfinders are among those spies. I find it a little hard to believe, given Pathfinders helped me out in a time of need,” he remarks, gesturing with his hand to his amputated arm.

Oh? What need was that? I'd love to hear your story if you are in the mood to tell it to us.

Diplo: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Jerrik must have come off as being bored or something, sheesh.

In talking with the veteran, "Rest assured there are good people still that do want to help."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

Tekkannan nods. "Perhaps I could purchase you..." he consults his notes "an ale, or other mildly alcoholic beverage, to keep your throat from getting dry while you tell the tale."

The man introduces himself as Imad Sharras, a Nirmathi patriot and one-time freedom fighter. He tells the story of how, years ago, he was left for dead after a bitter struggle with a Molthuni raiding force and how he was rescued and carried miles to safety by a Pathfinder named Marcus Farrabellus, now the Society's Master of Swords.

“So here is my offer. I know something of these bandits you seek, and I will tell you, but first one of you must drink this,” he says, producing a small blue bottle from his pocket.

And what is it? Jerrik looks at the bottle, wondering if he can identify it somehow.

"That's an odd request. How do we know you are telling us the truth?" asks Zhatara, bluntly.

Sense Motive check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Dalgron grabs the bottle and holds it up to his face. "And just why would we take a mysterious drink like this from a stranger? You could have at least tried to pour it into a mug of ale and deceive us. I would have gladly taken it!" The dwarf grins as he looks at the man.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"Because it is deception which I am trying to avoid," says Imad. "This will help ensure trust."

He seems to be telling the truth.

Violet takes the liquid and downs it. Just to see what it does, knowing the other pathfinders have her back.

Dalgron clenches his fists and takes a step back as he half expects Violet Red to turn into a quasit.

Lovely! Violet, please give me a Will save!

Will Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

If it's been within an hour, since bardic perform get a +1 to the save

The taste is mild with a hint of fennel, but Violet notes no particular effect. Imad immediately begins asking questions, his gaze locked on Violet's.

“How long have you been working for Molthune?”

"Who is your Molthuni contact?”

and

“Do any of your allies have ties to Molthune?"

Violet can attempt a DC 12 Bluff check to convince Imad she's under the potion's effect.

Sensing from the rapid-fire questions that she took some sort of truth potion, Violet locks eyes and answers.

"Who is Molthune? Gurail Spelling is off, head of the pathfinder society we came to assist. Not that I know of."

Bluff: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

"Enough of this!" whispers Zhatara, moving near the man.

"Very well we are pathfinders but we are NOT working for Molthune. We are searching for stolen cargo and found out the Society has been maligned and possibly framed with false accusations, not unlike the one you just threw at Violet there. So what now? Do you wish to start a brawl? If so I'll just remind you that as pathfinders we are more than capable of defending ourselves"

Diplomacy check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

"Let's not be so hasty," Ashwait says to Rogar. "This gentleman isn't throwing accusations; there's bad rumours going around and he wants to be sure they're just that, rather than walk into a Molthuni trap. I can understand that."

"Rogar" should not have posted at all, it should have been Zhatara. Unfortunately I forgot to change the avatar before the time slot for editing expired

@Zhatara Yeah, I do that too. Since I'm playing a few things besides this. I review my post (just hit submit) and then hit edit to fix what I need fixing.

"You're quite right," says Imad. "I owe the Society a debt of gratitude I may never be able to repay, but the lies of Molthune are everywhere and I must protect Nirmathas above all. Still, you have convinced me."

"Two weeks ago while my men and I were patrolling along the edge of the Fangwood south of the city, we spotted a group of bandits attacking a smuggler in the woods. We gave chase and tracked them as they fled west, but lost the trail when they hit the river. I don't think they simply forded or swam; I'd be good money your bandits have a ship capable of sailing up the Marideth River. They come from someplace beyond the river."

"Thank you for the information, friend," the dwarf smiles as he looks up at Imad, "Seems like we keep hearing about the marshes and the river. I think we really should be looking into those places, perhaps after we meet with Guaril."

So.... to the swamps? Or do we wait for the meeting with Guaril before going?

The swamps are vast...

"I suggest we start from the area between the Fangwood and the river. Seems like there's been some pirate activity there. Could be our men" suggests Zhatara

So what are you doing? Searching one of the swamps or waiting to meet with Guaril?

Let's meet Guaril... he might give us more detailed information. Or try to sell our internal organs on the black market XD

I'm with Z, let's meet Guaril.

"Aye, Let's go to Guaril."

"Aye, Let's go to Guaril."

I concur. He may have some information that is useful.

"I do not have a good feeling about this. Guaril knew he could get information to us by the Lodge - this note seems a little... odd. We know that there are those in this town who wish us ill - could this be a trap? May I see that note that was delivered once more, please?"

Tekkannan examines the note carefully, looking for clues to its authenticity.

Linguistics to detect forgery: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Nope, gilt-edged, copper-bottomed genuine

*edit* REROLL! *waves PC Folio at GM*

Linguistics to detect forgery: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0Bzm2DNZNJqxnaGxhaE1jbXJfXzA/view?usp=shari ng

"Indeed this is a forgery. We are being lured into a trap. We should go to the site now so that we may lay in wait for our ambushers and, er, revolve their tables - is that the expression?"

"Seems like a plan. Lead the way then, Tekkannan!" says Zhatara

To the northernmost pier. Several hours before midnight - plenty of time to scope out the area and lay an ambush of our own.

"Aye let is go."

I need to set up the map. Not impossible without my computer, but difficult. I'll have it done by tomorrow evening.