GM Woran's Rise of the Runelords

Game Master Woran

"That is what you get for most of you being naked but all your fur migrating to one place. It should be spread out more evenly, like on your baldish brother"

"So right you are, Justin." The rat is so cute when he's grumpy. She grins. "I often think about how my looks would have been improved with more fur. Perhaps Rodrak or Oskar are more to your liking?"

"We'll see you later, Dad!, Ameiko!" She gaily waves at her father, and then says, "Vy, are you coming? We're off to chat with Oskar's boss, and then go off to the Cathedral!"

Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Having been shown where it was once, she remembers and sets off in the correct direction, Oskar and whoever else wants to come in tow. "So, today will I get to see inside the shop? Or do you think Nisk will be sitting there with the windows all boarded up still? I'm interested in alchemy. Do you get to do any of it?"

"So, today will I get to see inside the shop? Or do you think Nisk will be sitting there with the windows all boarded up still? I'm interested in alchemy. Do you get to do any of it?"

As the walk, Oskar ponders Rataji’s many questions. “If I had to put money down, it’d be on the boarded-up option. ‘Course, he’ll probably still be all, ‘Why aren’t you in here,’ never let it be said the man let logic get in his way. That said, you’ll prolly get to see inside, ‘cuz I’m getting in there one way or another.”

“I don’t directly make a lot of stuff, ‘cept for the really easiest things. Most of what I do is helpin’ out. Clean the equipment, keep the inventory straight, don’t let stuff boil over, that kinda thing. Which is good ‘cuz that’s all the sorta thing Nisk’s just shitty at - ‘scuse my sayin’. A little workin’ the counter, and helpin’ him feel all nice and safe when he’s meetin’ suppliers - again, stuff he sucks at on his own - makes me an Oskar-of-all-trades. As far as the actual alchemy goes, though, I got one good trick…” Oskar trails off there. No reason to let that particular cat out of the bag just yet. Cat, or whatever the hell he is…

"How'd you get keen on the topic," Oskar tries to redirect the conversation. "Your old man have a penchant for blowin' stuff up?"

Taj blushes, and her hair smokes a little more than usual. "No, he doesn't blow things up. But... I've always had an affinity for fire. Maybe you've noticed? I love fireworks, explosions, and all those things. I used to get in trouble starting fires as a toddler, before I learned control. But I'm also interested in transformations -- potions, alchemy." She smiles. "Dad wanted me to be a bard, like him, and though I don't have his musical gifts, I do have a lot of curiosity about a variety of subjects."

"It's a baser form of magic but any form of magic is interesting to study in its own right... he sighs. "Blowing things up is easy. . Just put as much magic you can manage into as small of a spot as you can and give it a thwap. Changing one thing into another? THAT takes talent. You need to have an understanding of not only both forms but also the process of how to make one into another while maintaining them as a viable whole during the process. "

"I've always had an affinity for fire. Maybe you've noticed?"

Oskar briefly assumes an air of mock surprise. “Why, I had no idea! Kiddin’ aside, that’s pretty cool, ‘Taj. Couple years ago, my cousin Lyssa and I tried to blow up a tree on the edge of the forest. That… could have gone better. Folks think she’s gonna develop into a sorceress or somethin’. Whatever she’s gonna do, she better do it ‘fore she burns the island down,” he jokes.

After hearing Justin defend the honor of his specialty, Oskar smiles as if amused. “Yeah, it’s too bad I don’t have nothin’ like that up my sleeve, that’d be really cool…”

"With that much affinity perhaps you should wait OUTSIDE the shop. No point showing the goblins up

Sparks fly off Taj's head. "Wait outside? No way am I waiting outside. Besides, I can control it. I just have to be really calm. Serene, even." She demonstrates by closing her eyes for a moment. All the flames die down, leaving only the barest hint of smoke.

She pokes Vy. "Don't just stand there! Tell them about my excellent self-control!"

"Don't just stand there! Tell them about my excellent self-control!"

Oskar puts on his Skeptical Face and waits to hear this one...

"I'll give her five minutes", Vy yells from the kitchen.
"She just finished breakfest. She's well-fed. I say ten minutes, 15 on the utside" Pateba jokes back

Taj crosses her arms and looks mutinous. Then with a determined face, she turns to Eldira and Rodrak. "Do you see that? My own flesh and blood, stabbing me in the back. Maybe I should spend more time with people who actually believe in me." She smiles extra sweetly, looping her arms with Eldira's. "So tell me about yourselves. Where did you come from? What did you do before you came to join the defense of Sandpoint?"

She keeps her voice cool and professional, but when she glances back to see if the others are watching, her hair releases a few wisps of telltale smoke.

Leaving Snowflake and Pateba in the inn, the rest head out towards 'Botteled Solutions'.
Crossing Sandpoint market and into Festival street, the discussion continues.
Several people greet the group. Oskar notices that the greetings are more numerous and more heartfelt then he normally would get.

Once the group turns onto Raven street, you can see a half elf in a stained apron energetically sweeping the porch.

All it took was ten short months livin' with 'em, and savin' their necks from a goblin raid. Simple, really. The brief flash of cynical thought gets shoved aside, and Oskar does his best to ccept the newfound recognition graciously.

Said half-elf, I'll infer that's Nisk, yes?

"Not much to tell really. I only left the gwreiddiau'r byd warren six months ago, got run up a tree with Bitey by some varisians, and they let me travel with them by way of apology. I'd heard humans were xenophobic but thought the whole torch and pitchfork thing was just a stereotype until I saw it in action." he hmmms

I think I'll just wait outside. I'd hate for my story to end there with "and then they sweept what was left of him into a breadbox matchbox and sent him home"

"I think I'll just wait outside. I'd hate for my story to end there with "and then they swept what was left of him into a breadbox matchbox and sent him home""

"What? Nah, pretty unlikely that Nisk'd react like that. You'd be fine comin' inside if ya want..."

Eldira seems interested when it comes to the topic of magic, but doesn't actually join the conversation.

After her escape route has been taken from her by the dreaded "sweet arm loop", the takes ... slightly too long to answer:

"I usually sit over there" she points toward a corner booth, "and offer to print pigments on my customer's skin using a variety of needles. Most customers tend to describe them as tattoos if that word has any meaning to you.
When my shift is over, I mostly take the time to train my natural gifts. It is really fascinating to see projectile armaments fly through the air towards stationary or mobile targets, there are a lot of very interesting numbers involved. I picked it up from a couple of Erastil followers, that was the first thing I learned to contribute.

Before I escaped Numeria, some kind of base functionality was imprinted into me and while most of it is still too fragmented to use, I managed to restore some sort... ability. "

Looking around two suitable education objects present themselves:

Targeting her mug of piping hot "herbal infusion", she casts ray of frost, which should cool down the infusion to a level where it can be safely absorbed.

Not really waiting for a reaction, she grabs a knife, uses her arcane pool to give it a +1 enhancement bonus and cuts the apple in half.

"Of course, those abilities could potentially synergize, but I am still actively working on that. I have notes on a couple of other ....effects, but I lack the required operating resources to commit more than a very limited number to memory, and currently lack the option to upgrade my memory. That should cover my own non-bow related options.

.... .... ..... I originate in a metal/glass construct not significantly larger than myself, after exiting the construct, my memories are very fragmented. I remember running at peak efficiency from thus far unidentified constructs about 7 meters high, build like scorpions, crafted from some highly processed metal. Other memories from that time are still fragmented and can't be recalled at this time. Please try again later"

Those last words sounded even more mechanical and pre-recorded than usual.

"It has been 1246 days since my activation and my internal diagnostics lead me to believe that my abilities are currently at about 5 % of optimal operating performance."

After concluding her answering subroutine, previous interactions with humanoids have suggested that some counter information request is somehow the correct subsequent reaction.

"I see where you come from" pointing at Rataji's father, "and what your primary performance tool is" pointing at her slender blade "but at this point I lack sufficient data to project your personal trajectory.

What are you aiming at?"

ever printed too much, so that the floor is covered in paper... that's pretty much how Eldira talks, when she talks.

The ratfolk is cajoled inside, though he does rummage around until he finds the every present bucket of sand and stands ready with it. He blinks a bit at the androids explanation of where they came from. "I am deeply beggining to regret that the haphazard nature of my training means I can't guarantee putting you back together if i could take you apart for study. Yet. As to tattoos, anything that covers that weird bare skin of yours has to be an improvement

Yes, its nisk

Hearing talk behind him, Nisk gives a small yelp and turns around.
"Oh goodness me, Oskar, you startled me. Dont do that. You know how dangerous that is in the shop."

Hearing the comment about the boarded up shop, Nisk tone turns a bit more sarcastic. "Why yes Oskar, I did open up. Its a *shop* after all. Now that goblins dont threaten my livelyhood anymore. If they had gotten even a whiff of some of the things inside here, they would have had enough material to torch half the town, and blow up the other half. Sure, they would most likely have gotten themselves killed too, but I would rather not die a horrible painfull death just to see some goblins blow themselves into giblets."

Oskar shrugs. "I'd have figured it depends how much gibleting happens in the course of it, but yeah, I guess not."

"Aaaaaaaanyway, I just came by to tell you I'm gonna be at least a little late today; the Sheriff wanted to talk to the lot of us in the aftermath of the little fracas yesterday," Oskar gestures to his new companions. "Everyone, this is Nisk, this is his shop. That's Rataji, you kinda met her yesterday, Justin, Eldira, Rodrak, and uh, well Vy ain't here, huh." Oskar points around the room, giving everyone an introduction. "So, yeah, I have no idea how long this is gonna be. I'll be back soon as I can, and if you're gonna use that one condenser, make sure the regulator valve is working. I think I got it fixed but I haven't had a chance to test it yet. Soon as I can, I promise."

Nisk shrugs. A bit absentmindedly he replies, "Yes, yes that's fine. I wanted to attend the service in the cathedral anyway. And I doubt people will be in the mood to do shopping after that."

You're not sure, but Nisk seems... Sad?

Peeks over the counter,eyeing a few reagents and sighing at the few copper remaining in his pocket. "Perhaps you could market some of your wares as home defense devices? Or perhaps sell to the city guard? he hmms thinking. Perhaps the new hero of sandpoint "Perhaps the hero of sandpoint here could tout the effectiveness of some of your wares" and stands on tippytoes to nudge the half human.

"Ah, uh, well..."
Nisk seems very uncomfortable that you touch him. Not because you're a ratfolk, he seems not very keen on it in general.
"Well, making more things for people to defend themselves is well and good. But I would need some sort of... legal document from the sheriff or some such that if they set their own house on fire, they cant blame me. I have seen some of these people throw. They couldnt hit the broadside of a barn with a cabbage."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Nisk. If the opportunity comes up, we'll mention it. In the meantime, start puttin' together a list of materials and reagents you'd need for fire... uh, puttin'-out-stuff," Oskar pauses a moment, trying to think of the word but drawing a complete blank.

"I know a couple of suppliers were gonna be in for the festival. You got a meeting this afternoon wth one of them, but I forget who; it's in yer book. If it's Jhevon, you tell him his price has to come down twenty percent or he can jam it, okay? If we wanted to be gouged on prices, we'd be dealing with that Rhoumok a~!#%#* from Urgir."

Oskar claps Nisk on the shoulder, and tries to bolster his spirits. "Keep your chin up, okay? This can be a big opportunity for ya."

Again Nisk jumps a little from being touched.
"Ah! Oh dear. Oskar. Well. Yes. Meetings. And fire exstinguishing potions? That is a possibility. If we go from a basic liquid ice, but then maken sure the oxigen binds with the pre formed hybridisation matrix..."

Nisk mutters to himself for a bit and fishes a piece of paper out of his apron to jut down some notes.
You know its no use bothering him any further once he gets an idea in his head. You just hole he manages to remember his appointment in time.

"perhaps you could use the exothermic reaction of the fire itself to speed the transformation, sucking the heat out of it while simultaneously producing more retardant?"

Takes 10 for a 19 to geek out to knowledge arcana.

Exited, Nisk draws a diagram. "That is actually a pretty solid idea, but as you can see with this equation, reducing the axionogmatic components for the conversion to a volume that fits inside the average flask will make it highly unstable. It would work but would render it less effective in the hands of the townfolk. Not to mention too expensive for them."

Serene. I need to stay serene here.

Still, Taj looks around the 'Bottled Solutions' like a kid in a candy store. Her hair is only carrying the faintest wisps of smoke.

"Thanks, Nisk! This looks like a great shop. We'll be back soon!" She looks to the others. "If we're going to make the ceremony, we should go!"

"very well. lets go ask the gods what they thought of it instead of trying to keep it from happening again by addressing one of the many many MANY things the community did wrong. I'm sure they're looking now that we've made an appointment when they couldn't be bothered during. "

"Don't be bitter, Whiskers. Different folk do things differently. So, which way to the sermon?"

Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

"Dad pointed it out to us when Vy and I came into town. It's that huge building to the Northeast... You know, the one with all the stone arches and three wings coming off of it?" Taj not only points, but she takes off in that direction. "Come on, I've never seen the inside. I'm sure it's very grand!"

Oskar follows Rataji around the shop, trying to surreptitiously keep a bucket of sand nearby at all times, ready in case something sets the girl off. "So uh, if you dig on this stuff, I know a guy who knows a guy, I could help you get a little setup goin'," he grins.

As Taj takes off toward the cathedral, Oskar says to the others, "Uh yeah, it's just past the running girl with the smoke in her hair. Can't miss it. Or her, really..."

"A little setup?" Taj calls back, grinning. "From a guy who knows a guy? Oh, how could I resist that?"

You know, the one with all the stone arches and three wings coming off of it?"

"Yes, you finally do something sensible and make a defendable structure out of stone and then you put big giant windows in it so it's not defensible"

He looks to the dwarf. "you 've got to be with me on this one other whiskers"

Rodrak nods, remembering the large structure from when he first entered the settlement.

"Aye, in regards to not having large openings in otherwise defensible buildings. Then again, I am used to constructions having no openings to the sky at all." He starts gesturing in the direction of the structure. "But I reckon this one wasn't made for sieges. It'll serve in a pinch, tho. Board up the windows, add a few platforms for observers and ranged experts, set up a field hospital in the pullpit..."

He then looks a bit contemplative and hastens to add "... after asking the Gods for kind permission to temporarily use their Holy House as military strongpoint, of course."

Approaching the cathedral, you find yourself back in the square where you fought bravely against the goblins.
Just like yesterday, the square is filled with people, but this time, the mood is subdued. No festive clothes, and some people wear the black of mourning.
A militia group patrols the edge of the square.

Most people cluster close together, finding comfort in family and friends.
A few faces seem familiar. The two older men that expressed interest in Justin's wares can bee seen herding a group of kids towards the cathedral. Luca can be seen in the group. He waves shyly before being ushered on.

At the side of the square, you can see Ameiko, having some kind of heated argument with an older man. You're too far to hear, and before you can approach, both split off, faces frowned in anger.

A couple of people approach you, shaking hands, and thanking you for stepping in yesterday.

Father Zanthus starts guiding people inside, but Snowflake and Pateba have not joined you yet.

"I don't see yer brother or dad anywhere," Oskar eyes up the crowd, using his height to his advantage. He turns to Rataji. "I was a little surprised Vy didn't come with to Bottled; did he say anything to you?"

"And by the way, I wasn't kidding when I said I'd help ya pick stuff out at the shop." Oskar lowers his voice. "Nisk's got the less-than-great habit of taking broken merchandise, and mixing it in with good stuff, in an effort to spread his losses around. I've tried tellin' him, just stop dealin' with guys who sell him broken crap, but hey, why listen to me?" Oskar smiles wryly.

Justin seems a little uncomfortable with the attention, tail lashing side to side a bit and his whiskers twitching a little more than usual. "Its weird. Like being thrown a parade for walking down the street. he spies the gentleman who was looking at his wares. "talking business would be crass. General archeology on the other hand... " and heads over in their direction.

Justin:

Approaching the group of kids, Justin gets stared at. The kids range from you guess age four of five to maybe early teens.
Both men are answering an endless stream of questions from the kids, but immediately notice that their wards attention goes elsewhere.

One of the children pulls on one shirt of an older man with heavy streaks of grey in his hair.
"Ilsoari, Ilsoari, look, there is a little rat wearing clothes. Why is the rat wearing clothes?"

Continuing herding the children, Ilsoari turns towards Justing to look.
"Oh what? Of, that is one of our friends. He is what is known as a Ratfolk. Be nice to him Allen.

Getting the attention of the man in the robes, "Hey Vorvashali, its our Ratfolk friend. The one you nearly talked to death yesterday."

Somewhat distracted, the man with bright blue eyes, long red hair, and almost bronze-colored skin turns to Justin.
"Yes, yes I remember! Such fine wares! Many exiting items. A true treasure trove if I say so myself. I had meant to contact you earlier, but such awefull buisness with the goblins. Had to protect the kids first of course. And then there was all the patrolling. But no matter. I have been dying to talk to you about several of your items. I've had a bit of an iterest in arechology you see and..."

The man continues on and on. Meanwhile, the group with the kids gets hearded into the cathedral.

You see Justin swept up by a herd of kids, and go into the cathedral.

The square starts to get quite empty. Most people have entered the cathedral, and you start to move towards the entrance yourself.

Once inside the cathedral, you can admire its impressive structure. Divided into three large arches, each arch holds a two shrines: Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae, and Shelyn.
The centeral area is filled with benches. Not all of them match.

You slide into your place next to the townfolk, when a bit to your left you spot Snowflake and Pateba, talking to an older man.
Somewhere in his fifties, the man seems to be explaining something serious to Snowflake.
Pateba has a slight smile on his lips, and nods occasionally.

When Oskar spots Rataji's brother and father (regardless of whether she's already seen them), he tries to discreetly get her attention with a barrage of pokes and nudges.

"Rataji."

"Who's that guy, Taj?"

"hey no, just because I'm short does not make me a chil... well yes I suppose we are wearing the same suit.. no you may not touch my tail. ow hey. Wait. Cookies you say....

With everyone having found their seating, father Zanthus welcomes everyone to the cathedral.
The crowd doesnt need much hushing this time. The mood of the crowd is very subdued.

"Dear citizens of sandpoint. Friends. Travelers. It does not matter if I've known you just a day, or all your life. Today, we are gathered here. Together. It should have been a joyous occasion. The first full service in the newly consecrated cathedral. Instead today is a day of sadness. A day of remembrance.
Let us mourn for those we lost, together. But also, not let that loss lom over us. Life goes on. We go on. Sandpoint, and you all, have weathered all kind of storms. And together we will weather this one too.
Those we have lost, will always have a place in our hearts. They will be remembered. Now let us pray."

Father Zanthus leads everyone in prayer. Six short prayers are recited, one for Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae, and Shelyn.
Father Xanthus follows with a longer prayer to Pharasma.
At the end of the prayer,,the congegation echos his words: "The Lady shall keep it."

With the prayers complete, the mayor takes a moment to adress the crowd.
"Deares citizes. We have lost so much in so little time. We gathered together in celebration, but we ended in tradgedy. My deepest condolences for yo all. My heart goes out to you that have lost friends and family. I thank you all for comimg here today. Together we will get trough this. For those of you who want to, at the end of the service there is time to pray and reflect here. Father Zanthus and his accolytes will provide support where needed. Thank you."

After the mayors speach, Father Zanthus says a closing prayer.

With the main body of the service over, people break up into groups to pray or reflect at the individual shrines.

Taj puts up with the poking for a bit, amused at how excited Oskar is at the sight of her family. Finally, she just takes his big hand, the one that was poking her, and holds it. "Yes, Oskar. I can see them too." She gives it a gentle squeeze, and then realizes that she may have held on to it a second too long.

"I don't recognize the other guy, though. I wonder if he's someone who knew Vy's old family. They were apparently big in Sandpoint... connected with this Cathedral somehow." She's out of the loop, which is a little disconcerting for her. She feels a little sad that Vy hasn't confided in her about whatever this is, yet. Still, he's entitled to his secrets. "Do you want to walk around the Cathedral with me? Maybe we could spring Justin free, Or Luka, if Justin is still enjoying the cookies."

"No I do not need to "potty". I am fourteen years of age and assure you I'm quite old enough to... " The ratfolk's tail has been festooned with an assortment of mismatched ribbons with worrying alacrity since the service let out, and he's trying to stand on tippy paws and wave to you with one paw while the other clutches a tower of oatmeal raisin cookies against their jacket trying to hold it steady.

" Rescue me and I'll cut you in on the cookies..."

Wondering about Snowflake, you look around, and see tall, bald Shoanti man approach you. The man wears a worn breastplate and a longsword at the hip.
He gives both Oskar and Rataji a firm handshake.
"Sheriff Belor Hemlock. Good to meet you. I have seen you about a few times Oskar. Good job keeping Nisk from burning down half Raven street. And you must be Rataji. Snowflakes new sister. Welcome to sandpoint. Lets gather all your friends up shall we?"

If you look surprised that he knows all this, the sheriff just shrugs. "Gossip travels fast in Sandpoint."

Gathering Eldira up from where she is quietly observing the ceremony. Justin needs a slight bit of resquing. Not as much from the children, but pretty much from Vorvashali, who has only stoped talking when the ceremony began, and started his stream of endless talk the moment the ceremony was finished.
When you head to the shrine of Abadar to collect Rodrak, you also find Pateba, Snowflake, and the man they were talking to there.

The sheriff gives a nod to the man. "Sir Jasper. Good day. If we could borrow the young man from you for a moment?"
The man gives a nod back to the sheriff. "Of course sheriff. All yours. I shall continue my buisness with Pateba here."
The sheriff eyes Pateba for a moment before extending his hand. "Sheriff Hemlock. You must be Pateba. Snowflakes father. I would like to borrow your daught and son for some matters. After its complete, I would like to speak to you and Snowflake. In private.

Snowflake goes a little pale, and looks at Pateba worried. Pateba puts a hand on Snowflakes shoulder to reasure him. "Of course sheriff. My son and I will come visit you after your... buisness. No problem.

With another nod, the sheriff takes his leave of Pateba and Sir Jasper.
The sheriff leads the group trough a side door of the cathedral.
Suddenly in bright daylight again, you find yourself outside, in the sandpoint graveyard.

Closing the door behind him, the sheriff adresses the group. "I've called you here because I need your help. Nothing too serious, but my resources are currently streched thin. We are still patrolling, and our best scouts are out there in the wilds of the lost coast to find out more about those wreched goblins. You proved to be very resourcefull yesterday, and I am forever gratefull for your help. If you had not stepped in, more people would have died."

The sheriff makes a sign over his heart, a sign of both protection and thanks for the Shoanti people.
"Now, to the point. Father Zanthus and his acolytes have been preparing graves this morning when they noticed something amiss. It looks like one of the crypts has been broken into. Probably happened somewhere during the raid. All looks quiet. There is nothing of value stored in the cryps. But I would like you to help out with scouting out the crypt. Its one of the older and larger crypts. Lots of nice hiding places in case a goblin or two did decide to stay behind."

With his explanation done, the sheriff looks at you expectantly. [b]"I do understand if you need to gather some items first. Most people dont go fully armored to a ceremony."
He looks slightly self aware in his breastplate.

As promised, the sherif gets a cookie for the rescue. The rest are stuffed into his maw, making his cheeks bulge out to the sides.

"Fank you. I'd say I'd rafer have another go at the goblins than the chilwren but I don't fink deres a differwence He shifts the cookies over a bit with his tongue "Vorvashali wasn't so bad, I think i managed to take a few good notes. If I could get him to slow down or figute out how to get a quill to write itself..."

You see a small smile creep across the sheriffs face.
"Ah, yes. The children can be quite a handfull. Sweet as honeyd milk one moment, beings of pure chaos another. Having Vorvashali help out is quite a benefit. He has as much energy as they do. Once the man starts talking, he just doesnt stop. I suspect he secretly has gills or some such so he can keep talking without drawing breath."

"Thats two people in town I'd long to dise..study. Yes. Study. He sticks his nose to his spellbook and his nose twitches as he reads. "I suppose it makes sense to send us in, as you lot can't see without the sun, or some light sources that tell everything down there that dinner has arrived. And if the crisis isn't over yet I suppose I'm still at your beck and call, for the good of the town. "