GM Tyranius City of Strangers Part 1 and 2 (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

Prakriti accepts the fruit from the man outside the inn, passing him the appropriate amount of copper. Why, thank you. Oh, while you're here. You don't know of a Besel Ardoc, do you? My friends and I are hoping to meet him and hear he may be a local."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

Yorad manages to pull his hand from 'her' with no small effort. Guess this lass don't know her own strength!

"Perhaps later Miss. We are interested in what you know of a Besel Ardoc. From what I hear he sound like your type, perhaps you have met him in person?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

I'm sorry. For some reason, this thread got removed from my campaigns page. I'll try to keep up.

Mahalak follows his allies around, aiding them in knowing the whereabouts of Besel Ardoc.

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

He tries his best to behave the panther as eyes follow the pair. Once inside the room with Miss Feathers, he sets the panther to one corner of the room.

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

"Why, thank you, Miss Feathers!" Savannah exclaims with a smile. "But, we're not here for intimacy. We're here for information. As my friend mentioned, we're looking for Besel Ardoc, and the barkeep mentioned you might be able to help."

Do I need another diplomacy?

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Prakriti grabs ahold of the apple. The thin man smiles as his lip splits open. “Those Ardocs aren’t stupid. They run the best golem-making factory since Thassilon, and when you run something like that, you have an obvious source of guards. I ain’t never seen Besel without at least six of those iron things stomping around behind him. If you’re trying to find him and put a hurt on him, you best change your mind, friend.”

****************************

Meanwhile Savannah and Yorad deal with Miss Feathers. "Oh, I can help alright." Her large bottom lip juts out as Yorad shakes the large man's hand free. "Besel Ardoc was just seen this morning drinking at a pub in Downmarket. Down by that disgusting troll Augur temple—called Augur’s Entrails, I think. There’s a troll on the sign pullin’ his own damn entrails out on the sign. You won’t catch me drinking there, but I saw Besel and his iron monsters there this morning.”

"Really?! Oh, thank you!" She gives Miss Feathers a hearty handshake. "May Kurgess smile upon you."

Savannah turns to leave.

Yorad tips his hat at the large 'woman', "It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Feathers. Perhaps after my business is done...?" He smiles as he hastily follows Savannah out the room.

Miss Feathers reaches out a hand and grabs to stop Yorad from leaving. "Hold on now. I gave you a story. Share one of your sordid stories with little old me." She flashes her eyelashes at Yorad.

"Ummmm...sure...", Yorad manages to blush slightly on the 'woman's words, "I am short on time but I can tel you about the last time I took a bath...back in Absalom..." He then proceeds to relate a story about a hot bath, ninja assassins, and a sparkly horse called Princess Sparkletrot.

"I hope you liked that story...and YES it is COMPLETELY TRUE!" He laughs as he quickly exits the chamber.

Riti rejoins the others as they exit Miss Feathers' establishment. "You all look like you had fun in there. All I got was an apple! Oh, but I did find out that Ardoc usually retains a guard of upto six mechanical golems wherever he goes. Did you find out anything helpful?"

Savannah gives Prakriti a clap on the shoulder. "Well done!"

Then she nods. "Besel was just seen this morning drinking at a pub in Downmarket called the Augur's Entrails! Let's hurry! He might still be there."

"Uh... Where is Downmarket, again..? Have we been there?"

Sarina continues to remain silent after the "blood incident".

As you arrive at the Augur's Entrails, the number of trolls and other monstrous humanoids distinctly increases. You hear wares being hawked that would seem a bit out of place in Absalom. "Git yer fresh Thylacine bladder! Full of urine fer cleansing yer warts!"

A few quick turns leads the group to the proffered bar/temple. A drunk giant of a river troll is passed out next to the door, his hand is immersed in a bowl of water.

The group enters and sees the only human in the bar surrounded by three iron golems, talking to a troll in ornate robes with a crusty red spot around the abdomen. They speak too softly for you to hear.

A troll to the left of you hollers. "Oi! What'll ye have?" he motions at the blackboard behind him with hastily scrawled Common. Blooded Drink - 10 GP; Thunderfirkin Brew #5 - 1 GP; Steelkeg Brew #3 - 5 GP; Fortune's Brew - 50 GP

Savannah smiles at the troll. "Oh! Well, let me see..."

She reads the menu and decides that the Steelkeg Brew sounds like the safest choice.

"I'll have a Steelkeg Brew, thanks." She pulls out the coins, places them on the bar and takes her drink, then heads over to Besel Ardoc's table.

"Hi there! You don't happen to be Besel Ardoc, do you?" she asks without preamble.

Yorad suddenly realizes he is out of money, so he quietly moves behind Savannah playing the part of the silent bodyguard.

"I'd like a, um, Thunder... fur... kin?" squeaks the gnome. He reaches up and places a gold piece on the counter. "Please!"

"Any of these gonna give me trouble walking in a straight line after I drink em?"

"One moment, Onukr." the man says to the troll in front of him.

He casually turns to Savannah. "I figured you would show up eventually. Have your friends wait at the bar while I finish my business with the High Priest here." Besel says as he yells to the barkeep to get a round of pitchers for the visitors.

The trollkeep pours a couple pitchers of Steelkeg and Thunderfirkin for the Pathfinders.

--20 minutes later--

Besel and Onukr conclude their business out of earshot with the former standing and bowing as Onukr heads up the marble stairs in the rear.

"Now what can I do for you fine.... Pathfinders?" he says as he looks you over.

"Just a small favor, trivial matter really. We're having trouble finding someone, and we're wondering if you might help us out. His name is Besel Ardoc, and I understand he's known to have metal golems around him at all times."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

Savannah raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Oh...kay..?"

She heads over to the bar, as requested and waits curiously. "Who do you think he thinks we are?" she asks her companions.

She drinks her glass of ale, but doesn't partake further of the alcohol.

---

"Pathfinders?" Savannah remarks in surprise. How do you know we're Pathfinders?"

She looks at Besel curiously, but then suddenly smiles. "Oh! I'm sorry! Hi! I'm Savannah!" She sticks out her hand for a handshake.

"We came to Kaer Maga at Horis Collgardie's request. He mentioned that there were Pathfinders in town causing trouble and opening a lodge -- only there shouldn't be. We came to see what Horis knew about it, but found him dead, with some goons throwing heads at us! Your goons, apparently. We thought they killed Horis, and they tried to kill us, so we killed them -- sorry about that, by the way -- but later we found a letter insinuating you wanted them to kill Collgardie's murderers? Anyway, it was quite confusing."

She leans over and looks at him closely. "Were you really a friend of Collgardie's? What do you know about his murder?"

Diplomacy to AID: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Derp. Disregard my post; that's what I get for not reading properly.

Yorad raises his hands in a placating gesture, "Now we don't want any trouble wit' you. All we are tryin' to do is find out what the situation here be."

Diplomacy, Aid: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10

"That's right...and find out who's stirring up all this trouble and put an end to this business!" Riti adds, hoping it wasn't Ardoc himself who was the culprit in question.

Diplomacy (aid): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

"So, my men that escaped said. It would be wise not to level accusations. One might believe you to be with the Shadow Lodge." Besel peers at Savannah. "I heard from my men that you weren't the ones to kill Collgardie. Sad, Dakar would have owed me that favor." Besel muses aloud. Though he does seem a bit somber as he mentions Collgardie's death. "Truly he was a dear friend."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Savannah remarks, utterly obvious to any intended threats he might have just levelled at her.

"The Shadow Lodge? What's that?"

"Dakar? Who is Dakar, and what do they have to do with this?"

Besel informs you "I thought it was just a code word you Pathfinders were using to set up a lodge in Kaer Maga and that is when they started causing trouble, Collgardie and I sent a letter to his friend at the Grand Lodge in Absalom before a bunch of Pathfinders in Kaer Maga turned up dead."

"Beyond that," Besel says, "I had nothing more to do with the whole situation. I only hired the goons to kill Collgardie’s assassins because Dakar, the head of the Commerce League, said he would owe me a favor and being owed a favor by Dakar is worth more than all the gold in your vaults in Absalom.”

"Sounds like this Dakar is a real player here," Yorad comments, "Still doesn't explain why he would want to take revenge on Collgardie's assassins, and why he was killed to begin with. I don't suppose you could arrange a meeting between us and Dakar?"

"Shadow Lodge? I've never heard of them. They sound like imposters to me. Do you have any idea where I can find them?"

"Shadow Lodge? I've never heard of them. They sound like imposters to me. Do you have any idea where I can find them?"

Besel shrugs. "Like I said, I though you Starfinders were using it as some sort of code."

I don't suppose you could arrange a meeting between us and Dakar?"

Besel laughs uncomfortably, perhaps rudely, for a long time. When he’s done he says, “Dakar is the most secretive man in Kaer Maga, and that’s saying something. If you want to talk to him, you might as well climb to the top of the walls and shout for him all day. You don’t find him, Pathfinders, he finds you.”

He points a finger up to the group. "I leave you with this warning. Be careful who you make deals with here, Pathfinders. Kaer Maga is a city brimming with politics—play the wrong kind and you’ll end up dead. Hell, play the right kind and you’ll end up dead. The point is, be careful who you make an enemy of here—or worse, who you end up owing a favor to.”

Besel winks and walks out as his three iron golems follow him. It is very apparent that their impromptu meeting is adjourned. He disappears into the large crowd outside the bar but the tops of the iron golems are still clearly in view as they meander through the trolls, giants and ogres.

"Well, shucks." Savannah remarks. She crosses her arms and thinks for a moment. "Sounds like we need to track down Dakar and the Shadow Lodge... No better to place to start than here, I suppose."

Savannah finishes her drink then walks around the bar, speaking to the patrons. "Hi, there! I'm Savannah! I'm looking for Dakar. Have you heard of him? How about the Shadow Lodge?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Once Besel has departed Yorad nods laconically, "I thought that went quite well no?" Shrugging eloquently he nods in agreement with Savannah, "Yeah, guess throwing some more chum in the waters couldn't hurt...he he. If there is a Shadow Lodge out there then Dakar would know of it, is me guess."

Walking around the bar one man shrugs at Savannah's questioning about where to find Dakar. A second man fiercely shakes his head, looking around the room nervously and quickly walks away, wanting noting to do with the situation. He rapidly leaves the bar.

"Hmmm, sounds like this Dakar person might not make his whereabouts know to your average man on the street. Let's just hope he actually does want to find us, or our chances of finding him appear to be rather slim...although by the sound of it, him finding us may not necessarily be particular pleasant either!"

Having said that, Riti joins in asking around for any more clues on either Dakar or this Shadow Lodge.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Prakriti seems to completely kill the mood in the bar, which pisses the bartender off immensely. With each person asked, they seem to get nervous and leave, setting their drinks on the bar without even finishing them.

The bartender crosses his arms. "You're killing my business. You guys are going to have to leave." He points to the door.

"Terribly sorry! Of course, we'll go, but may I enquire why it's making everyone flee? We're foreigners. Is everyone afraid of Dakar? Who is he?"

Yorad gently grabs Savannah by the arm and pulls her out of the bar, "Now is not the time fer questions. We have already asked too many!" He nods nervously.

Once everyone is out of the bar he points back to Colligarde's place, "I think we should return there and wait fer Dakar."

When Yorad takes Savannah's arm, Zil does the same with Prakriti-- though because of his small size, he can only hope she goes with him. "Yes, yes, terribly sorry everyone, don't mind us. We don't know any better," he adds pointedly. Once outside, he wheels on the others. "Those are not the kinds of questions you want to be asking. You heard Besel, dealing with this Dakar wrongly is a good way to get killed. You don't simply ask how to find someone like him. You need someone who knows how to ask without asking." He glances at Yorad. "Not here, of course, we'll have to look somewhere else."

Man, my bard would've loved this scenario.

You leave the bar and begin heading back towards Colligarde's place. As you wander the streets discussing your next avenue something strange happens. Suddenly, where a thick crowd of people once stood are now only six burly men carrying cudgels and a seventh with his hand in a pouch at his belt. All seven sets of eyes are on you, while in the distance, the crowds suddenly turn and find another way past this street. “You’ve been asking about Dakar,” says the man with his hand in a pouch. “He wants a word with you.”

"See, asking about someone can sometimes help you find someone, even if the person you asked doesn't actually give you the answers." Prakriti says with a wink at Zildaastin, although she doesn't exactly remember where she heard that truism first. It wasn't one she usually came up with herself, more like something one of her past lives might have said, maybe even her last one, 'Neela'.

Yorad glances about him calculating the odds of either fight or escape. Not liking the odds here he shrugs slightly in response showing his empty hands, "Sure, lead the way."

"Since we want to talk to him this works. Let's keep things polite."

Sarina tries to get a feel for if this is an escort to Dakar or an escort to a dark ally followed by a deep pit.

sense motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

"This is exactly what I had hoped to avoid," Zil mumbles, shoving his hand in his pocket to clutch his holy symbol. "My apologies, gentlemen, subtlety is not our strong suit. Please, lead the way."

"Oh, wonderful!" Savannah exclaims. "Thanks so much."

The man signals to his compatriot. The man grins cruelly, showing his missing teeth and missing tongue. He tosses six black bags at your feet.

"Go on. Put em on." the man with the cudgel states plainly.

Sarina feels as if the man is deadly serious.

"Put them on?" Savannah asks curiously. "Put them on what?" She picks up a bag and examines it, curious if there's something inside she should be wearing.

Clearly she doesn't understand what she should do with it.

Yorad eyes first the bags, then each of the men around them. He cannot help but grin slightly as he takes one of the bags and slides it over his head.

"He means just like this Savannah."

Mahalak looks at the man, then at the black bags. After counting them, he turns to the man. What about her? Mahalak points to Mavenee. We can't just leave her here.

"The pets come with us. Unharmed. If you agree I think we can cooperate with your boss's desire to keep his home a secret."

Sarina is willing to cooperate but thinks these guys want to separate her from Fluffy and she isn't going to allow that.

"Oh! I see." Savannah remarks. "I suppose that makes sense. Are you sure these are good and thick? I wouldn't want to accidentally cheat."

"Very well, then!" Riti pulls one of the bags over her head. Now in perfect darkness, she lets her mind drift out and sense the natural whisperings of her surroundings. It is unlikely to help her in any practical way in such a situation but she finds it comforting nevertheless.