[PFS] 02-01 The Bloodcove Disguise (Inactive)

Game Master Zizazat

Please feel free to introduce your characters and role play with each other while awaiting the Master of Spells.

The Master of Spells looks at you, squinting his eyes as he withdraws a wand holding it out for you. "By all means Pathfinder Bolthune, impress me."

Mareck grabs the wand Aram Zey holds out to him.

"Ahh, uhh, hmmm, OK," he swishes it around, then holds it like a dagger, then like a small sword. He settles for a downward grip, like a stabbing dagger, and approaches the Chelaxian knight still busy getting his equipment together.

"YOU! DEVIL-WORSHIPING, COLONIZING PIECE OF PIG-S$~*! YES, I MEAN YOU! EAT WAND!

Mareck's eyes bulge when he begins yelling and veins pop out of his arms. His knuckles go white and spittle begins flying from his mouth.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 Dmg: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

No penalty for the improvised weapon, due to Catch Off Guard.

and just for good measure:

Intimidate DC12: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

The wand stabs right into the man's eye. A faint <pop> is heard and he cries out in pain. He clutches his eyeball and bends over, screaming.

Mareck walks back, calmly, to Aram Zey and hands him his wand back, slightly bloodier than before.

"There you go, sir. Sorry 'bout the mess."

Now that's what I call, Catching Him Off Guard!

Mareck picks up his pack, adjusts his hat, and follows the other Pathfinders out the door to await their briefing by the Master of Spells.

That was a most impressive use of a wand as an improvised weapon, Mareck. But unwise. Imagine what your fellow team members now think of you. Be nice.

The Varisian bravo in front of you opens his mouth, as if to argue with somebody, though nobody has said anything, then closes it.

"Roight, ehh, sorry 'bout that back there, mates. The man asked for a demonstration of combat competence. Just followin' orders. I'd never get inta it with any y'all."

His big, floppy, feathered hat sits a bit cockeyed on his head. He adjusts it and smiles.

"I'm Mareck Bolthune, nice ta meetcha," he says shaking each person's hand in turn. <shake>

"Well, nice to meet YOU, miss. You brighten my day up a bit, then, ehh," he says, kissing Alafair's hand in a courtly way. <kiss>

"Ahh, an you, too milady. This is going to be a GREAT bit of travelin' <wink>," he says when he meets Nightwolf.

When he gets to Keladry, he sticks his hand out while still staring at the two ladies of the group. "Mareck, yeah, yeah, nice to meetcha." <shake> Then his eyes alight on Keladry's angelic features and he recalls his latest adventure in the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment.

"Urkk - I uh mean, hey, uhh, hi. Don't hit me."

"Greetings and may you always find yourself in the cleansing light of Sarenrae's light. I am Batah ibn Abbala, follower of the Dawnflower and neophyte pathfinder."

"Geez, man, you gotta get that looked at! Yer not a very good holy man if you can't cure that nee-o-phytis stuff!" cries out Mareck, wiping his hand rudely on his trousers.

The Chelaxian straightens and walks toward Mareck with purpose. "Just remember that when Master of Swords asks me to demonstrate my sword." He strikes you across your face with the back of his plated hand, the force of which knocks you off your feet as you as talking to Batah! Quickly Mareck scrambles back to his feet, a dagger appearing in his hand as he does so.

Aram sighs heavily, shaking his head. "Disappointing and typical. You failed to realize he was an illusion. Even when the illusion struck you, you failed to realize it and fell to the ground! Pathetic really."

Turning to look quizzically at Aram, then back to the Chelaxian, Mareck sees the knight begin to fade into nothingness. "But...but...", Mareck stammers.

Aram Zey and the closed double doors he was standing in front of also begin to fade into nothingness. Beyond the open double doors, in a large stone chamber stands the real Master of Spells. "Enough of this foolishness Pathfinders. We have many miles to cover and time is short...come in."

As you enter the chamber, Aram Zey stands there with a scroll in hand. He appears to be standing in the center of a chalk circle approximately 15' in diameter. "Come close now Pathfinder." Aram Zey begins reciting the words from the scroll...

With a flash of light and a stomach-churning shift, the cool, saline air of Absalom collapses into the stifling, wet heat of the Garundi coast. Within moments, sweat begins to ooze from your pores as the fetid stink of the local climate envelopes you like a damp blanket.
The scroll in Aram Zey’s hands crumbles into dust, its magic spent. The Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells removes his hat and begins fanning himself. “All right Pathfinders, welcome to the blistering hole that is the Mwangi Expanse. Any of you who bother to keep up with your Chronicles know that the Society has an archaelogical expedition working in the Terwa Uplands, about 80 miles northwest of our position. Of course, I doubt if more than half of you read anything but dirty poetry, so allow me to sum up: the Azlant Ridge site shouldn’t be there. There are no known Azlanti sights in the Mwangi Expanse, but here we are. It may be the best-preserved evidence that the Azlanti at least visited the Mwangi Expanse. A servant of Angazhan called Ruthazek the Silverback King claims the site, too. His troops have laid siege to it and our people are starving, dying from disease, and running low on ammunition and personnel, which is where you come in.”

Zey points north through the treeline, to where a ragtag city of boardwalks and wooden buildings straddles a swampy, red river delta. “Your first stop is Bloodcove.” He chokes out the word as if it insulted his mother. “The Azlant Ridge site needs supplies, and Bloodcove is the nearest trade port. They need 2 tons of food and clean water, five crates of arrows and crossbow bolts, and clean dressings for wounds. House Cartahegn is your best choice as the Society works with them occasionally. We already arranged payment to a caravan leader named Raimondo Scevola several weeks ago. Make contact with him to carry everything north. Also, look for a man named Senzer somewhere in town. He was an alchemist funneling potions and information to our team in the Uplands, but he went silent a month ago. You need to find out why and get that stream of potions flowing again.

“Don’t think this will be a simple trip to the market. Bloodcove is a pit founded by pirates and run by criminals—scum with no sense of achievement or appreciation for arcane advancement. Even worse, it’s a stronghold of the Aspis Consortium, which loves nothing more than perverting and profiting from Pathfinder discoveries like Azlant Ridge. Keep your heads down and do nothing to attract suspicion; perhaps adopt a disguise. Normally I don’t give a damn if you heroic types kick in doors, make asses of yourselves, and die, but more than your lives rests on your shoulders now. If you fail and the Azlant Ridge site receives no backup, it will surely fall.”

Aram hands over a coin pouch to Alafair. “As I said, we arranged payment for your caravan some time ago. This should cover the cost of supplies. If you dip into your own resources and manage to survive, the Society will attempt to reimburse you.

“Once you deal with that business, head northwest.” He presents a sealed scrollcase and an ornate, golden key on a leather thong to Keladry. “Guard these with your life. The key’s exact purpose eludes me, but the symbol it bears is repeated on a doorway at Azlant Ridge. The scrollcase contains a map to the dig site. My magics secure the case, though, and it will explode violently if opened within five miles of Bloodcove.

“Ask your questions now. I return to Absalom the moment I believe you capable of getting to Bloodcove.”

Nightwolf shows herself to all and in turn shakes hand with everyone greeting them warmly. *Shake*
I hold myself high as I go around but then after introducing myself to all I go to the corner watching the show. I patiently wait for the master to come.

Kelasry approached the chamber dressed in a pure white coat that when walking would show a scale mail beneath him. On his back there was a shield showing the symbol of Iomedae and at his side there was a mace. Black eyes regarded those present for the time being as he got himself in a comfortable stance. A brow was raised when Mareck decides to show his prowess against the Master of Spells but his lips are sealed for the time being, this wasn't the right time to speak up. As Mareck makes his way around to smooch up to every woman in the room his lips curl up in a smirk till the point where a hand is reach out to him.

"Keladry Ragefyre, Holy servant of Iomedae. And why would I hit you?"

And with that the Varisian was ignored for now as his attention turned to the Chelaxian Master of Spells. His lips once more turned into a seemingly smile when the introduction was made. Then when they were transported he steadied himself for a moment before letting his black eyes take in the area in a quick moment, pondering on the location but his pattern of thoughts were pulled back to the Master of Spells when their mission was given. Each word would be noted and the names were all put to memory. A brief nod was given to the Master of Spells to inform him he was aware of the mission.

Upon the offering of the scroll case he rolled it over in his hands a few times before putting it away. The leather thong would be placed over his head and then put under his scale mail. The black eyes watched the Master of Spells for a moment and then nodded to him once more.

"The case will be protected, I will die before this falls in the wrong hands..." With that done he regarded his companions for a moment before speaking up once more. "How will we return to Absalom?"

Aram smiles to himself briefly, "I know Keladry, I know. One of the reasons you were picked for this mission was the ... strength of your devotion. You will protect it with you life, and I didn't even have to ask. But, should you think I'm a horrid cad, you do have my thanks. Once you have completed your deliveries to the Azlant Ridge site, you'll be returning by boat to Absalom. The Pathfinder in charge of the site, Diaz is her name, will help you make the arrangements."

Batah looks the paladin of Iomedae over and nod in his direction. He has nothing to ask the Spell Master as it all seems fairly clear. Having visited the great markets of Katapesh and Qadira, Batah is not overly awed by the task at hand.

<intro snipped>

Nice intro post!

Nightwolf gets herself ready to travel and awaits the others. She feels as thou there is nothing that can be done here and has what she wants so she just wants to go and find what must be found. *evil grin*

And why would I hit you?"[/b]

"Errrr, well, umm, see, hehe, kinda a long story there, mate," says Mareck.

He is a paladin of the Inheritor. His overly strict sense of fairness and justice will make him understand if you explain the other aasimars in the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment were deceived into supporting evil.

"Right, good idea. Uhh, well, last time I met some ass-uh-mars like yourself, they were uhh deceived into supporting evil...

And we had to fight them to purify the Lord Korada's Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment.

"And we had to fight them to purify the Lord Korada's Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment, and, uhh thatsa when I had to cut a few ass-uh-mars liken yourself," says Mareck. "So... no offense to the race and all, but, uhh, just don't wanna be offending you and gettin' into it. Me and the angel-types all ended up friends afterwards, though! NO really! Once we showed 'em what was wrong at the Temple."

"So, I guess that's why you might hit me."

Aram smiles to himself briefly, "I know Keladry, I know. One of the reasons you were picked for this mission was the ... strength of your devotion. You will protect it with you life, and I didn't even have to ask. But, should you think I'm a horrid cad, you do have my thanks. Once you have completed your deliveries to the Azlant Ridge site, you'll be returning by boat to Absalom. The Pathfinder in charge of the site, Diaz is her name, will help you make the arrangements."

"Oh right, some woman named Diaz is just gonna take care of it all. No doubt, mate," says Mareck, rolling his eyes at Aram Zey.

"Maybe you can just zap in and outta places quick like, but the miles matter to the People of the Road. By the time WE get there, this Diaz could be old, could be dead, could be insane, could be captured-"

Or incapacitated.

"Or inka passuh-tayted!" adds the Varisian, as an afterthought. "Might be better if we had some sort of-"

Long range version of the Message spell, normally associated with the transmutation school.

"yeah, some sort of long range version of the Message spell, normally associated with the transmutation school," adds the bravo, inordinately happy to have pronounced all the tough words correctly. "That way we could call for a quick pick-up via bigtime 'port. <Zapzap, boo-woop!> Bingo! Back in Absalom!"

Anghazan? That seems like trouble. Demonic trouble. Is this servant of his "Ruthazen the Silverback King" an awakened gorilla then? And what sort of siege army can we expect? This has implications for how we get in and out of Azlant Ridge.

Mareck's eyes get big suddenly, as if he's hearing words that are surprising or frightening to him. His knuckles turn white.

"Look, mister Master 'a Spells, no offense, but I can't handle a dumb gorilla, much less a smart one. So this siege is full of angry jungle apes? How're we supposed to get in and outta Azlant Ridge through a siege army?"

Ask Master Aram Zey if he has--

"What about the caravan master? Does he have a way in and out? Maybe via boat. You did say we'd return from Azlant Ridge via boat. Does Azlant Ridge border on the water, maybe? We could get in that way."

I don't think we--

"All respect, mister Zey, but a map of Azlant Ridge would help a lot here for the latter part of this run. Can you provide that? I'm sure the Society has mapped the archeological site quite thoroughly, so I'm sure you've got something, right?"

He watched Mareck as he decided to explain his comment in regards of him hitting the Varisian. The black eyes watched the man's facial expression but he never showed any compassion or emotion when it was explained, his features were unreadable. Inside his mind words tumbled over each other as he contemplated the ramifications of what he had done. Mareck had blood on his hands of his kin but if they had been decieved by some sort of fiend who was to blame them? He decided to not push the point and pushed it aside, there was no reason to cause discord when he was about to embark on a mission for the Society. When he spoke his voice was soft yet there was steel behind it.

"I will pass on the judgement for now, seeing as we have more pressing matters at our hand. I do hope you are consider putting a donation to an Iomedea Temple for your transgression against my kin, even if they have been decieved."

And with that he put the transgression behind, he was about to say something to the Master of Spells when Mareck decided to speak once more. However this time he was caught off guard by the seemingly knowledge the man had of the area they were going to and he did seem to have a fair grasp of the politics in the area and also had some sound idea's. He listened for a moment before his voice cut through the silence once more.

"Iomedea will provide us with guidance and I have full confidence that we will make through this unharmed and without seemingly trouble. Iomedea will guide our hands and our path will be blessed by her guiding hand. However, your concerns are valid and I am sure the master of Spells can provide us with information about a possible alternate route to our goal should the need arise."

"Oh Mareck, if only you had been with me when I was receiving my orders from the Decemvirate. Then I'm sure we could have put all your good advice to use! Besides, it would deny me of the opportunity to shuttle around know-it-all junior Pathfinders. Pathfinder Diaz erected some sort of dimensional anchor, probably using one of the artifacts they uncovered. As a side effect, the magic blocks any attempts at magical communication." Aram scoffs. "You want more teleporting Mareck? Next time I'll send you back through the Tapestry, deal?"

Fanning himself with the hat a bit more frenetically, he looks to Alafair, "Good lady of Taldor, do see to it that the coins don't wind up in the hands of this one." thumbing over in Mareck's direction.

Speaking to Keladry, "Remember, don't open the case until you have collected Scevola's caravan and are headed north out of Bloodcove. Five miles." Aram makes a *boom* sound tossing his hands up in the air. "It contains the map you seek Mareck. The Azlant Ridge site is land-locked. You'll have to return to Bloodcove to take a ship back to Absalom, so don't make too many enemies in town huh?"

"I leave the finer points of getting into and out of a siege camp to your field expertise." Beyond the scope of Part I, but I like that you are thinking ahead!

"Only the quietest or cleverest Pathfinders survive so deep in enemy territory." Aram says, "Head into Bloodcove and see if you can locate Raimondo Scevola. As a bit of parting advice I'd suggest splitting up into pairs or as individuals regrouping near the Free Trade Square. Beware the eyes and ears of the Aspis Consortium, and if any of you have a wayfinder ... well ... the only thing it's going to do for you in Bloodcove is summon danger." It's a well known meta-meme to never split the party, but in the context of what happens next it's totally ok and makes a lot more sense than a group of 5 strangers traveling together in disguise not trying to draw attention to themselves.

Arem suggests that each person or small group can utilize one of the following methods to reach the Free Trade Square while trying to draw as little attention as possible:

Batah is quite confident in travelling by himself, posing as a merchant, or simply as what he is, a priest.
Surely even these brutes recognize the power of the gods to heal and help in such a harsh setting!
"If anyone wishes to accompany me, they are more than welcome, otherwise I will see you all, I hope, at Free Trade Square."

I walk up to Abbala and tell him I will follow giving him a pat on the back thanking him for the welcome he offered but I plain to also pose as a merchant.
"Thank you good sir, I trust you have an idea as to where we are going today. My plain is to stay back and watch for the ambush that seams to always come."

"Ah, very good then, So I shall be your stalking horse then!! Excellent. I will try to draw the attention while you see who takes interest. Perhaps a travelling priest will draw a bit more of the eye than a simple merchant."
Batah seems rather excited by the prospect and, breaking out his clerical robes, dons them over his armor and prepares to depart.

"Next time I'll send you back through the Tapestry, deal?"

"No, no," says Mareck at mention of the Hao Jin Tapestry. "I think I prefer the Road, if them's the choices, thanks mate."

He looks over at the shining example of paladinhood, Keladry. Looking him up and down, Mareck grimaces at the prospects of trying to disguise him.

"Well, whaddya say you darken that armor a bit, hide the Inheritor's symbol inside yer stuff, and we can go as a mismatched pair of down-on-their luck sellswords?"

So sorry to be late to the party. Kept waiting for the this one to show up in my dot list, but then remembered I failed to dot the Gameplay...silly. Glad you're off to a great start.

Alafair offers her hand to the Varisian, but finds to her great regret, that he is a fool or a mental case, or perhaps both. Hopefully his sword would do more talking than is mouth, if that were possible.

She listens and nods at the Master of Spells, whom she treats with utmost respect. She takes the bag of coin and it disappears into one of the folds of her robe.

The unfamiliar names bounced around in her head: Raimondo Scevola, potionmaster Senzer, the Cartahegn clan. For her first Pathfinder field assignment, she felt she was going in pretty deep. Hopefully, her companions had skills to offer as well.

She looked the crew over. You knew where you stood with a paladin of Iomedae . The foreign cleric looked solid enough, and the elf girl and a look about her. Alafair's eyes kept being drawn to the Varisian. Was it an act, or was he really that pathological. Time would tell. He could be an asset or a real problem...

Hearing that they had to go incognito, she said imperiously to Marek and Keladry. "I shall be a merchant, and you two shall be my hired swords. We are looking to make a deal with this caravan master to bring our trade goods to market. That should be natural cover for all of us. Let us head to Bloodcove and see what we can find out about this Scevola and the Cartahegn House."

He seemingly bristled when it became clear the party was about to split up. It made no sense to do so and it would put each and everyone in danger, it was common sense and a good tactic to not head out alone. Then when it was suggested he would darken the holy armor of Iomedea he was about to give Mareck a tongue lashing that would shame a local whore in a brothel but he decided to not do it when Alafair suggested he would be a bodyguard as well. He let out a sigh under his breath before speaking up. The steel in his voice was there, as if to let the others knowing that he was serious about it all.

"It is not a tactical good thing to travel in 2 groups, it would be better to stick together. Yes, it might draw some more attention to us should we do so, but it also means we all arrive at our designation. If we travel in 2 seperate groups and something happens to the other group neither would know it and it would endanger our mission for the Society..."

He let out another sigh when he saw that Batah was already getting ready to move out and his head only gave a barest sign of resignment before he regarded Mareck and Alafair once more. It would be an interesting time to travel with Mareck and Alafair that was sure. He reached for his backpack and pulled out a cloak and placed it over his current outfit, the small symbols of Iomedea were now covered, but the shield he was carrying and he made no sign of covering that up. Pulling the cloak over his head both his new travel companions would hear him whisper under his breath.

"asking me to desecrate the holy symbols of Iomedea, the nerve of him..." With that said he straightend and regarded both of them for a few seconds. "Let us make our way then and hope our companions get to our designation unharmed. However, we need to set a time frame to wait for each other so that we know how long to wait before conducting our mission."

The group of Pathfinders makes it plans and heads toward Bloodcove, planning to regroup in the Free Trade Square in two hours. Along the way Nightwolf and Alafair both try to get some information from the locals as to where they might find Raimondo Scevola, or alternatively a good place to hire a caravan.

Awareness Score: 2

All arrive intact to the Free Trade Square, though Keladry's paranoia about splitting up seems to have drawn some undue attention and Alafair tried to reassure him with a ham-fisted soliloquy about the life of a poor Taldan merchant girl seems to do more harm than good.

The Free Trade Square is a bustling, open square ringed by stalls, carts and stands selling all manner of goods. You'll not likely find what you need in the amounts you need here, but anything you'd be interested in for personal use can probably be found for sale.

I'll give you time to plan your next move from the Free Trade Square.

"Ah, it is good to see that we have all made it this far! I do so love the hussle and bussle of a busy market. So what now? Do we know where to find House Cartahegn or the teamster Raimondo Scevola? Perhaps I should ask around! The Dawnflowers light can show us the way!"
Batah will look around to get the feel of the market then cast Guidance on himself then start to question some of the local merchants and stall owners.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 5 + 1 = 12

Batah enjoys the market, recalling the hustle and bustle of Katheer's great markets. Striking up a conversation with an old Mwangi man, Bathan learns that two nights ago a drunken Scevola stumbled through the Square on his way home from a night of drinking at the nearby Wandering Way, smashing into a stall and upsetting some pottery which was smashed to bits. In the morning he apologetically returned to pay for the damages, receiving quite a public tongue-lashing from the angry half-elven merchant.

Batah thanks the old man and purchases a small item from his stall, paying and extra few gold for it as way of compensation. He also offers his blessing to the man before heading back to tell the others what he had learned.

Batah picks up a Mwangi puzzle box for a total of 5 gp. It is small wooden box with sliding panels and buttons which when solved opens a small concealed cache inside which could hold a coin sized object. Without knowing the steps to unlock it, it requires a DC 12 Int check to solve.

Batah enjoys the market, recalling the hustle and bustle of Katheer's great markets. Striking up a conversation with an old Mwangi man, Bathan learns that two nights ago a drunken Scevola stumbled through the Square on his way home from a night of drinking at the nearby Wandering Way, smashing into a stall and upsetting some pottery which was smashed to bits. In the morning he apologetically returned to pay for the damages, receiving quite a public tongue-lashing from the angry half-elven merchant.

"Hehe! This fellow seems like just the man to meet! Right? I mean, The Wandering Way? Warms my heart and reminds me of Varisia and my fellows," says Mareck, remembering his own upbringing amongst the caravans of the People of the Road.

"Let's get some ale, friends!"

Mareck rubs his lucky dice in one hand, a look of impending happiness on his gambler's face.

Nightwolf watches from the shadows it find what items there are a surplus of.
Knowledge Local Check 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Alafair says:"I have also heard Scevola spends time at the Wandering Way it should not be hard to find him there. I think we should spend some time there looking or asking for this man. We also need to find out what we can about House Cartahegn."

She begins to bustle about the market as a merchants daughter might, looking at fine things, but not really buying any. She enjoys the role-play of bossing the "sellswords" around a little.

While in the market, she specifically looks for the House Cartahegn name or anyone talking about it

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 13
Know Local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Once that is complete, and as it approaches the evening meal, she asks her bodyguards to escort her to The Wandering Way. There she will ask around about hiring a drover to move a caravan of goods for her father's imaginary Taldan business.

Bluff: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Alafair is able to learn the location of the House Cartahegn Trading House, across the north bank of the river near the northern outskirts of town. I have marked the map. She also learns that they seem to have a pretty direct line on most of the food trade in and out of Bloodcove. She overhears:

"Wha'da mean closed? Ya gon all morn'in an ya come back empty handed?" a surly man with pale skin and dark hair is yelling at someone.

"Not my fault boss, I swear! Some kinda problem at the sugarpress, they closed up the store front ta deal with it. Come back tomorrow she says. She's a looker though, I won't mind going ta see her again!"

The humid stink of Bloodcove mingles with the reek of sweat and the sickly-sweet odor of tropical plants and exotic tobaccos. The foyer of the guild house looks more like a tavern than a place of business, with tables carved from dark jungle woods and overstuffed cushions. Older men and women mingle or brood over their drinks, while strapping young toughs claim the area around the cold hearth.
Across the room, a swarthy, moustachioed man bellows in anger. He sweeps an arm across the tabletop shared with a red- cheeked companion, spilling drinks and playing cards onto the carpet. “You bashterd,” he drunkenly shrieks, “You scheating bashterd, Elanzo! I need thoshe animalsh! I have a client whoshe paid fer my caravan!”
His companion wrings the remains of his drink out of his shirt. “No one cares, Scevola. Those were the stakes, and your horses will be chow for my men before we set sail in the morning!”
“You shlipped shomethin in mah drink! You’re taking my horshesh over mah dead body!”
Elanzo simply shrugs at this and snaps his fingers. The three brutish beauties gathered by the hearth stand up and begin moving toward the pair.

Pathfinders go! I've also moved the map, and updated the Bloodcove handout with the locations you've discovered. I believe everyone has control of their token and their faction mission. If not let me know.

"Here now! What seems to be the problem? Cheating at cards? Well maybe you need the light of the Dawnflower to illuminate the problem!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

While still in the square: Alafair approaches the man being yelled at and attempts her most winning smile. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about the sugar press. I have business there but seem to have lost my way, can you tell me how to find it. I will be happy to pick up whatever you may need there also, saving you the trouble."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Apparently, her feminine wiles are more powerful than she imagined...

In the Wandering Way: Alafair sees the contact in trouble. She snaps her fingers at Mareck and Keladry indicating the thugs approaching. "See if you can slow those guys down." she whispers to the muscle.

She emits a flashing spark of fire at Elanzo, trying to stop his further action and frighten him. "Leave the man alone, fool. He is under our protection. You will take your winnings and leave him to us."

Cast Flare DC 14 or be dazzled and attempt to Intimidate.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Perhaps she should stick to flirting...sorry, not a very low profile.

Unfortunately Batah's words don't seem to help the situation...Captain Elanzo stands up, putting his back to the wall looking at his crew and says, "Take our winnings from this old drunk. If these strangers interfere, well, looks like we'll have to beat them into a press gang huh girls?"

Crew #2
Mareck
Alafair
Captain Elanzo
Nightwolf
Keladry
Crew #1
Crew #3
Batah

One of the crew moves up to her boss' table, pulls out a sap and swings it at Scevola! But Scevola manages to smash her in the knees with his chair distracting her!
Attack:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Mereck and Alafair you're up!

[before the combat]
He followed the processing with a mild interest and when some information was passed on he put everything away in his mind for future use. And with that all of a sudden they made their way to a local bar. And ofcourse trouble was about to follow them and with a sigh he stepped up forward and regarded those present before he spoke, his voice strong with conviction.

"Gentleman, I am sure that this is all a misunderstanding and this can be solved in a mere diplomatic way..."

With that said he had made his way forward to make sure that he was in the right position should combat happen.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

If this is to late I will retract it and wait for my combat actions and Keladry will have just moved forward to stand in front of Alafair

Like Batha's words, Keladry's call for calm seems to fall on deaf ears.

[after combat begins]
Nightwolf walks into the bar following others action partway and then takes a full defensive stance waiting to see where her allies go hoping to take a flank.

Perhaps it is best not to bring attention to our interest in Scevola. But cheating must always be punished, especially when it is not in our favor.

"Oh m'lady, you can bite Besmara's teat, for all I care about this s+#!e-filled drunk bag 'o piss. But cheatin'? Now's that fightin' words to an honest gambler!"

Mareck moves up and pulls his bladed scarf from his hips in a fluid motion and swings it back and forth in an intimidating display of combat prowess.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Token moved on Roll20

The crewman in front of Mareck seems to have a sudden realization about the current situation watching Mareck's display. *shaken*

The captain reaches into a pouch at his belt putting something into his hand, his eyes darting all around trying to take in the developments in this bar fight.

Nightwolf slinks into the bar taking up a defensive position.

Keladry walks next to Mareck, shielding Alafair with his celestial body.

The crew makes it's attacks against the new intruders!

Crew #3 *shaken* vs Mareck: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 *miss*
Crew #1 vs Keladry: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16 *miss*

Round 1:
Crew #2
Mareck
Alafair
Captain Elanzo
Nightwolf
Keladry
Crew #1
Crew #3
Batah

Batah is up!

Batah puffs up, his face turning a definate shade of red as he bellows.
"How dare you speak such to an emissary of Sarenrae! Prepare to pay for your heresy!"
A small spark flickers in the cleric's hand as he prepares to hurl it towards his foe. By the time the spark leaves his hand it has become a full fledged ball of flame.

Attack-Touch Ranged: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

The captain does not seem intimidated by Alafair's threats. Meanwhile the crewman tries to savage Scevola.

Crew #2 vs. Scevola: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21 *hit*
(non-lethal) damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Scevola howls and calls out, "Pleash, pleash hep me! I's givs ya gold!"

Round 2:
Crew #2
Mareck
Alafair
Captain Elanzo
Nightwolf
Keladry
Crew #1
Crew #3
Batah

Mareck and Alafair are up!

My bad, fellas. I had a turn then deleted it once I saw the tactical map, then got sidetracked with work and couldn't get back to it. Will try to catch up now.

Round 1 action
Alafair shouts at the Captain. "Take your coin, but leave Scevola to us. He is under our protection. Failure to comply will mean your end." She then takes a step back behind Nightwolf. She also tries to see what the Captain has put in his hand.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 2

Not terribly effective, but a repost of what I had before. Standard Action to Intimdate. 5-ft step. Are the crew members attacking with lethal force and weapons, or is this just a bar fight?

Round 2

Seeing that words weren't going to stop this fight, Alafair gathered herself. "Combat is not my forte, but perhaps I can be of some aid."

As her adrenalin flowed, the arcane electrical energies began to surge through her, static sparks clinging to her gown and in her hair. Little strokes of energy crackled between her fingers.

She made a snapping motion and a light burst of energy appeared flashing in front of Crew #1.

Cast Flare DC 14 or be dazzled for 1 minute.

I leave this to you, as you always seem capable in these situations. But you may want to wait until the pretty sorceress tries her spell. Try not to die, Mareck.

Not needing the helpful hints, having been in a few scrapes before, Mareck readies himself to take advantage of whatever the friendly spellcaster can do.

Readies for an action from Alafair. Attack immediately after her standard action is complete.

Mareck pivots, bringing his bladed scarf about in high arc, its colorful reds, blues and deep purples flashing before the woman in front of him. If one listens carefully, the sharp blades sewn into the edge of the scarf <tinkle> as they move. In Varisian camps, around the fire at night, the singers and storytellers call this noise the Quiet Colorful Death.

Atk: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Dmg: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2