[PFS] 02-02 Rescue at Azlant Ridge (Inactive)

Game Master Zizazat

You are several days northwest of Bloodcove—days of dusty, dirty running and riding as your caravan guide, the scoundrel Raimondo Scevola, whipped his horses and wagon-drivers to go faster, faster! Closing in behind you, no more than an hour by horse now, ride dozens of Aspis mercenaries. Your activities in Bloodcove, it seems, were not as secret as you hoped.

A sudden cry goes up among the wagons, and all eyes look back the way you came. The days-old familiar sight of pursuing horseman has vanished. “They’ve given up the chase!” Raimondo declares and a tired cheer erupts from his caravan.

"By the Dawnflower, it is about time! But why now...so suddenly? I hope we have not be driven like antelope to the slaughter...what is up ahead?"

Oh that's crap! There is no way they just vanished.

"Uhhh, there's no way they just up and vanished," says Mareck Bolthune, Varisian tough. He puts his right hand to his eyes, as if it will help him to see, cocking his wide-brimmed hat backwards.

"I am just glad they are gone and we can slow down a little, all this forced march is hard on a city girl. Perhaps we should scout ahead a bit as well, maybe there is some danger coming?"

"I agree. Let us scout ahead of the group and make sure they are not driving us into some sort of trap."

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Scanned the first page of the previous scenario, but I'm mostly gonna wing it as far as the introduction. GM, feel free to adjust anything that doesn't make sense, and Horatio to glom on to this introduction or invent your own.

The inquisitor slides his helmet off with a grateful grunt, slinging the strap over one hand as he wipes a sheen of sweat from his eyes. Though glad that their pursuers had slackened the chase, he almost annoyed that he had lugged this suit of mail several days under the sweltering coastal sun, and at the end had no need of the protection.

Suppose I couldn't turn them down, he regretfully recalls the assignment, but the next time Aram Zey and the Society put out the call to reinforce a supply mission in this forsaken pot of insect stew the call a jungle, I'm packing something a bit more airy.

Slachagok's initial optimism at exploring the savage lands of Garund had peaked at the sight of the city built into the roots of a massive tree, as he disembarked the ship along a pleasantly chill sea breeze. Colder by far the reception granted an Abadarian half-orc by privateering populace, and Slach found little joy in the irony under the sweltering coastal sun.

He at least had managed, through luck and circumstance, to avoid any encounters with the Consortium before joining up with the main party. After several sweaty, fly-flecked days of marching, was allowing himself to see an upswing in his fortunes.

"Aye, we'd best as might," the half-orc sighs, "on th' off chance they han't decided to cut their losses an' comisserate in some shady waterin' hole." Licking the dust from his chapped lips, he tried not to dwell on the image.

Horatio smiles wanly as the rest of the caravan gave cheer at the lack of riders chasing them. Certainly, his first mission as a Pathfinder was nowhere near as glorious as he thought it might be. He'd been amazed when, two days ago, his Society contact had given him a seemingly random location in the jungle and within an hour, the caravan had happened across him.

"Do you think they're gone?" Horatio asks, looking at Batah, "Or is this merely the calm before the storm?"

As though he is spooked by his own question, Horatio quickly checks the condition of his rapier and shortbow.

One note about my profile; I'd expect that as we're part of a caravan that the heavier items would be stowed as part of the caravan while they move so that Horatio gets full flexibility. That is why there is a "Wagon" entry at the bottom of the profile. Let me know if that is incorrect.

Mareck slowly peels an apple with his knife and watches the two newcomers to the caravan. The Varisian tough crunches into his apple, savoring its juices, a slight smile cracking as he watches the half-orc (Slutchagon? Slugachon? Gokasluch?) sweating in the heat under his mail.

Don't look askance at him, Mareck. That mail may be what saves his (and possible your) ass one day. And his name is Slachagok. I guarantee you, failing to remember a companion's name will certainly predispose him towards disliking you. Now go make friends. Offer him some apple. I'm sure he'd appreciate that.

Mareck stops eating his apple in mid-crunch, looks down longingly at the delicious half-an-apple in his hand, and sighs in regret. "Riiiight," Mareck says under his breath, his mouth full. He walks over to the half-orc and, wiping the apple juice from his face with the back of his forearm, holds out the remaining apple.

"Hey, mate. 'Slach-a-gok,' right? Yer lookin' hot. Fancy some apple? I, uh, 've had muh fill."

Oh gods, Mareck, your command of the Taldane tongue is nearly as pathetic as the lines you tried back in Bloodcove on that Carteghen warehouse mistress. We're getting you diction lessons when we return to Absalom.

Mareck's eyebrows lift and a smile quirks at the corners of his mouth.

"He he, diction."

That is not what I meant, you clod, 'diction' means the -- oh forget it.

After another hour and a half of travel, Raimondo Scevola calls for the caravan to stop as you enter a small clearing. He calls to Mareck and Slachagok, "Keep them eyes pealed boys. Those vipers on our tail may have gone, but I doubt they will stay gone." Climbing down from his wagon, he walks over to the horse examining one of it's hooves. "I'da swear this shoe was working itself off, but it looks good. Guess we'll take short water break and get going again."

Even as he finishes his sentence, ahead of the caravan a piercing whistle sounds. In front, behind and from a western gully Aspis agents on horseback emerge from the jungle to attack! Scevola and his drivers take cover under their wagons, yelling for the Pathfinders to protect them!

Round 1:
Slachagok
Alafair
Batah
Aspis Mercenaries flat-footed
Horatio flat-footed
Mareck flat-footed
Aspis Captain flat-footed

Slachagok, Alafair and Batah may act!

Roll20 map should be good to go!

What are the feint DCs of our opponents?

Batah moves towards the cover of a fallen tree blocking the progress of 2 of the Aspis mercenaries.
He calls upon his faith to create a bolt of fire, that he aims at one of the oncoming enemy.

Attack-Ranged(Touch): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2

@Horatio - DC 13 for the Captain, DC 11 for the grunts.

@Batah - Captain or grunt? (I'll label them on the map, my bad) :)

I will aim for the Captain

Alafair will cast Mage Armor as Standard Action and ready her light crossbow as Move Action, otherwise standing the same location.

Increase AC to 16/12/14

"Ah, sod it," the inquisitor curses, tossing the helm aside. He draws his falchion and takes a step towards the western pair of mercenaries, adopting a defensive posture.

Draw falchion, 5-foot step, total defense. AC for rest of round is 22/15/17.

Hopefully I don't blow the mounted combat rules too badly here...If someone sees I'm doing something really wrong please let me know. Most of the verbiage seems to be around mounted in melee which they are not presently.

Merc 1 rides over trying to get a clearer shot with her longbow at Batah.
Merc 2 draws a bead on Batah from where she sits.
Merc 3 coaxes her horse forward for a clear shot at Slachagok.
Merc 4 rides around her partner taking a clear shot a Alafair.
Merc 5 rides forward taking a shot at Mareck.

Merc 1 longbow vs. Batah: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 3 - 2 = 21 *hit, threat*
Merc 2 longbow vs. Batah: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 3 - 2 = 2 *miss*
Merc 3 longbow vs. Slachagok: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19 *miss*
Merc 4 longbow vs. Alafair: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20 *hit*
Merc 5 longbow vs. Mareck: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 3 - 2 = 20 *hit*

Merc 1 confirm vs. Batah: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 3 - 2 = 5 *miss*

Batah damage: 1d8 ⇒ 2
Alafair damage: 1d8 ⇒ 7
Mareck damage: 1d8 ⇒ 7

Horatio and Mareck may act!

*EDIT*
They should have all made DC 20 Ride checks, these are not combat trained horse, so this may retcon stuff:

Merc 1 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Merc 2 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Merc 3 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Merc 4 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Merc 5 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Apparently they do a terrible job managing their non-combat trained horses, and spend the whole round trying to do that. Except for Merc 2, who can't hit the broadside of a wagon. :)

Come on Merc 2, get it together.

Edit: Spoke too soon. Sucks at bows, but he's a good hand at horses. You other thugs could learn something from this guy.

Link up with the half-orc, Mareck. Letting them come to us is -- what? Nooo!

Mareck immediately charges the closest Aspis agent, swinging his scarf as he goes!

Atk Mercenary 4: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 4 + 2 = 15 Dmg: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

If they're on horses, shouldn't they be occupying 10'x10' squares as large creatures?

5'x10' technically, but yeah large. I adjusted the tokens and now the look scary :)

I thought they they did away with non-square sizes to avoid facing issues. The space templates list large (long) creatures as 10x10 with 5 ft. reach. Not that it matters at the moment, more than enough room for everybody here. I mostly feel bad for Mercs 2 and 3 that suddenly got squashed.

Horatio narrows his eyes at the sudden appearance of the riders, braces himself and draws his shortbow, notches an arrow against the bow string and lets fly at the Captain.

Attack (shortbow): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Damage (shortbow): 1d4 ⇒ 2

Crit confirmation: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Critical damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Move action: draw shortbow
Standard action: attack Captain

"Hah, take that, you cretin!" Horatio shouts at the Captain with a large grin.

I guess this encounter was built incompetently on purpose so it wasn't a total murder-spree? I'm still seeing some disconnect though between when Ride checks in combat should be used. The scenario says melee but the CRB seems to imply 'battle.' I'm going to do some more research so hopefully next round isn't such a mess.

The Captain readies his lance, but the horse seems to have other ideas.

Captain Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Round 2:
Slachagok
Alafair
Batah
Aspis Mercenaries
Horatio
Mareck
Aspis Captain

Slachagok, Alafair and Batah may act!

Batah again flings fire at the captain.

Attack-Ranger Touch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Alafair steps to the side for a better angle and then conjures up a glob of acid , tossing it at Merc #5 who is not yet engaged in melee with Mareck, but the green jelly flies wide of the rider and disappears harmlessly.

Move 10' west and cast Acid Splash

Acid Splash, Ranged touch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

I'm going to take my action now to avoid delaying any action.

Even as the arrow from his first shot quivers in the Captain's body, Horatio pulls another arrow and fires it at the Captain. He'll select the nearest mercenary if the Captain is dead by the time of his next action.

Attack (shortbow): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage (shortbow): 1d4 ⇒ 2

Horatio curses as the shot goes wide however.

When do you want me to roll for reclaiming arrows? At the end of the combat or as we go on?

Not a problem post ahead, however you want to track your arrow reclaiming is fine with me. Saving it till the end and putting it behind spoiler tag is probably the best.

"BY ABADAAAAAAAR!"

Slachagok lifts his falchion above his shoulders and dashes toward a mounted archer.

Charging Merc #3. If there's any difficult terrain on the way, he'll use Agile Feet beforehand (free) to ignore it for one round.

Charge attack: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 5 + 2 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 4 ⇒ (5, 4) + 4 = 13

Slachagok, I think you transposed your damage numbers :) It's listed correctly on your profile. In this case, no big deal, you are going to do a min of 8 which is enough to kill the merc anyway.

Batah's fire of Sarenrae again finds it's target, burning the struggling captain.

The Inquisitor of Abadar charges forward bringing his falchon up into the chest of the mounted mercenary, knocking her off the horse, lifelessly to the ground.

Merc 4 manages to manuver her horse back from Mareck slightly and fires her bow at him!

Merc4 longbow vs. Mareck: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14 *miss*

Horatio fires his bow again at the captain but misses this time.

Mareck is up!

Whoops, sorry. Not the first time I forgot to add the two-handed damage bonus.

"Oi, mate, try that on me?" says Mareck as he closes with the fourth mercenary. "SCREW YOU AND OUR HORSE!"

Atk Merc #4: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 Dmg: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

The captain seems eager to join in the fight, his horse however does not.
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Round 3:
Slachagok
Alafair
Batah
Aspis Mercenaries
Horatio
Mareck
Aspis Captain

Slachagok, Alafair and Batah may act.

Satisfied with his present tactics, Slachagok turns his focus to the second mercenary. His heavy mail did him no favors during their hot days of travel, but on the battlefield it seems barely a hindrance to the half-orc's furious motions.

Charging Merc #2.

Charge attack: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 5 + 2 = 18
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 6 = 13

Alafair repeats her last action conjuring up an Acid Splash and tossing it at Merc #5 who isn't engaged in melee yet. Unfortunately, the results are pretty much the same as well.

Acid Splash, Ranged Touch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

Horatio fetches another arrow from his quiver and fires it at the Captain once more.

Attack (shortbow): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage (shortbow): 1d6 ⇒ 6

Horatio curses loudly again as his shot goes wide.

Mareck, what are we going to do? Six enemies and Alafair and this little burglar fellow can't hit the broad side of a Aspis Consortium warehouse. Mareck?

Grimly, Mareck bears down, remembering the smooth, wavelike dances of the Varisian dancers in his mother's troupe. The swoop of the scarf, the bend of the leg, the snap of the blades... they all come back to him as he concentrates into a near trance.

Mar e ck! Wh a yo u ** * d * in g? I c a n* h * * r a n* m o r e!

Deep in his battle trance, Mareck ignores everything, tuning out all words and thoughts, except for the motion of his bladed scarf and the mounted Aspis mercenary before him.

Atk Merc #4: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 Dmg: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

And misses! ;)

And misses! ;)

I know! F#*&!

Sorry...my turn did not post!..it was another miss, but I guess I get another chance!

Again Batah raises his hand and a dart of flame shoots towards the captain of the Aspis brigands.

Attack-Ranged Touch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Ok that looks like my missed turn..weird!

Perhaps if we add up all these 9's we can get a hit!

Merc 1 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
Merc 4 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
Merc 5 Ride: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Ther mercenaries cannot get their bows trained on anyone as they again fail to manage their horses.

Horatio and Merck both miss their attacks as well.

Frustrated with his own mount, the captain dismounts his horse throwing his lance on the ground. He draws a short sword and advances on Batah.

Round 4:
Slachagok
Alafair
Batah
Aspis Mercenaries
Horatio
Mareck
Aspis Captain

Slachagok, Alafair and Batah may act.

Batah moves towards the captain, drawing his scimitar and calling upon his goddess to direct his hand to righteous victory.

Attack-Melee: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Slachagok pulls his blade free of another mercenary corpse.

"Pfuh," he snorts. "Some horsemen."

Seeing the apparent captain engaging Batah, the half-orc dashes over to support the cleric.

Move N x3, NW, NE, attack captain.

Attack vs. captain: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 5) + 6 = 17

Crit confirm: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 2) + 6 = 13

Move N x3, NW, NE.

Batah's scimitar is deflected off the captain's shield as Slachagok quickly moves in pressing his advantage slicing the falchion first though his leg then up into his shocked face!

The remaining mercenaries wisely execute full withdraws!

Out of combat!

You recover the following from the Aspis crew:

Captain: +1 chain shirt, masterwork heavy steel shield, masterwork lance, shortbow with 20 arrows, shortsword, scroll tube (scroll of cure moderate wounds, scroll of magic missile, scroll of shield), signal whistle, 1,800 gp!?!? WTF?

Mercenaries (x2): masterwork studded leather, longbow with 20 arrows, shortspear, 9 gp

The inquisitor wipes another sheen of sweat from his eyes as he trundles back to the caravan.

"Every'un still breathin'?" he asks. "Those Aspis bastards best have learnt their lesson. Whether that means turnin' tail or bringin' better horsemen, spose we'll find out." He leans against wheel, catching his breath.

Slachagok will take one of the longbows and 20 arrows. He is proficient with the shield and can cast from the first scroll, but Mareck and Batah may make better use of those respectively.

Mareck looks carefully at the chain shirt. It appears much better, from a protection standpoint, then his own leather armor.

I'll take the +1 chainshirt!

I guess the scroll of CMW falls to me!!:-)

Batah walks up to the 1/2 orc and claps him on the shoulder
"I thank you for your assistance. I was not sure if I would be a match for that fellow!"

Was anyone injured during the fight??

"It was very well played, Schlagok!" Alafair agrees, taking the Shield and MM scrolls. "Look at all this coin that man was carrying, no wonder he couldn't get his mount to behave, it was probably over-burdened."

Smiling, she turns to the caravan leader, Scevola. "It appears our trouble with the Aspis may be behind us now. Let's get moving again. What other dangers can we expect on this journey?"

Diplomacy/Gather Info: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

3 arrows to be rolled for, 50-99 saved.

1d100 ⇒ 21
1d100 ⇒ 31
1d100 ⇒ 23

Horatio pulls the arrow from the Captain's corpse rather noisily but is dismayed to see the arrowhead has fractured from striking the man's rib. With a sigh, he discards the useless arrow to the ground. He spends a few minutes searching for the other arrows but decides to stop once he realises he won't find them.

"Three arrows spent," he mutters, kicking a nearby stone. He picks over the loot but most of it is far too big for him. With a shrug, he seals his quiver again and looks to the others.

"Well then, what now?"

"Let us achieve the town. We are still far from it," says Mareck.

An excellent idea, Mareck. The mission is to deliver the supplies to the Pathfinder--

"I'm thirsty and in need of companionship," smiles Mareck when Horatio, Alafair, Batah and Slachagok look at him. "Azlant Ridge must have an inn or three, eh?"

Mareck slips the gleaming chain shirt on and tosses his leather armor onto the nearest caravan wagon.

"ONWARD!" he shouts with gusto.