[PFS] #5–08: The Confirmation (Play-by-Post) (Inactive)

Game Master Robert Brookes

It is only by light of the moon that the duskblossom—nymphaea noctis—blooms. Perched cross-legged atop a mossy rock, a young halfling woman—Janira Gavix—observes a field of these water-born flowers floating atop the shallow pools of brackish water from where the nearby river meets the sea shore. The lapping waves of a receding tide crash nearby, though far enough that Janira cannot smell the sea-spray. As the moon comes into view from behind dark clouds, Janira keenly watches the duskblossoms begin to move, one-by-one unfolding their petals to reveal luminous stamen within that glitter with starlight pollen. She sketches their form in the moleskin journal set out across her lap, but finds herself unable to effectively capture their otherworldly beauty.

A sudden splashing and sloshing sound coming from the shore causes Janira to sit upright, her focus immediately moves from the flowers to the rocky shoreline. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat when she hears another deliberate splash-slosh, this time noticeably closer. Slipping one leg out from under herself, Janira levers herself off the rock and crouches down beside it at the edge of the tidal pool, clutching her journal to her chest as the sounds of something emerging from the water draws closer.

Peering over the top of the rock, Janira watches something rise up out of the river; a dark, though vaguely humanoid, silhouette in the night. Swallowing tensely, Janira creeps a bit further around the rock, watching this creature move. It's body glistens in the moonlight, draped in a woven cloak of purplish fabric and kelp-green plant matter that clings tightly to its frame. The creature's flesh is dark gray in coloration, and as it surveys the riverbank, Janira gets a clear look at its faintly luminous violet eyes.

A gillman, Janira realizes as some of her fear subsides, replaced by curiosity. Watching the aquatic man slink away, Janira scrambles towards another cluster of rocks, keeping behind the cover to observe in silence. The waterlogged figure moves a few more paces, then holds aloft both hands to the moon.

"અને તેથી મારા જાગરણ શરૂ થાય છે.," the gillman utters in a wet, sibilant verse that is strangely tone-deaf. Then, anointing itself with water from the river, the gillman continues to follow the riverbank inland. All the while, Janira keeps her distance, having forgotten her backpack and other gear entirely back by the water.

After following the gillman for nearly a mile, the wooden riverside opens into a grassy clearing at a rocky butte that breaks up the hilly land. The river snakes around the butte, and the gillman seems most interested in this geological formation, approaching its side that is cast in shadow by the moon. As Janira watches from the foliage, she finds herself transfixed on the figure's motions.

Then, as the gillman approaches the shadowed cliff face, he simply disappears into the darkness, as if the night swallowed him whole. Janira's breath hitches again in a staunched gasp, quickly followed by a hasty approach from the treeline. Her little, bare feet carry her across the grassy floor of the clearing to the cliff. Though once she steps into the shadow of the butte, the truth becomes clear to her. For cut in the side of the rock face is a narrow keyhole cave, from which a cool, damp breeze blows.

Cautiously approaching the cave mouth, Janira holds one hand out to feel the air blowing against her palm, then uses her hand to feel the cave wall as a guide until she is wholly submerged in darkness. Don't be an idiot, she warns herself, before anxiously backing out of the cave.

Standing there, one hand still in the darkness, Janira's lips curl into a delighted smile.

A mystery!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                Pathfinder Society: Year of the Demon
             T H E   C O N F I R M A T I O N
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The invitation delivered last night through the Grand Lodge of Absalom was remarkably simple, especially given the importance of the occasion: “Start where it all began. Meet us at the Pig’s Paunch one hour before dawn.”

The Pig’s Paunch is an inauspicious run-down building in the shadow of much less storied structures in Absalom, with a faded sign of a large pig standing on its hind legs, arms folded above a corpulent belly. Inside, the air is thick with the scents of human sweat, stale tobacco, and leftover food. Tables are filled with all manner of travelers from the lower rung of society; a greasy-haired half-orc sits at a table with four Varisian men engaged in a game of cards, while a pair of halflings sit at the bar sharing a pint of dark ale with a blonde-haired halfling woman. Flies buzz around from table to table, shooed off by both patron and barmaid alike.

In the center of the tavern floor, surrounded by inebriates sleeping off their revelries, a familiar elven man stands high upon top of a large round table. His blonde hair flows down over his shoulders, dark eyes reflecting the lantern-light like tiny blue-black marbles.

“Welcome! Welcome, my students!" He greets at the arrival of the fellow Pathfinders-in-training. "Please, have a seat!” With that, Kreighton Shaine, the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Scrolls, nimbly drops down to sit cross-legged on the table before looking about the tavern with a sense of reverent wonder. “Can you believe it? It all started here years ago—well, over four hundred of them at least. Under this very roof the Pathfinder Society was born."

As the group coming in to the Pig's Paunch make their way over to the table, Kreighton offers each of them a wry smile as he drums his fingertips on the table's surface, gesturing to the chairs not occupied by the unconscious revelers from the night prior.

“Today you will begin your Confirmation! Master Farabellus, Master Zey, and I all agree you each have shown your worth and dedication to the Society, so there’s no better time to see if you can handle becoming full field operatives. Allow me to introduce you to Janira Gavix,” he says as he motions for an excitable halfling woman to approach from where she was at the bar. As she approaches, Janira slings a large backpack over her shoulder laden with all manner of tools, from small lanterns to shovels, pots and pans. Pouches and scroll cases hang around her waist, and a distinctive blue-violet flower with jet black stamen is pinned in her hair.

Shaine continues, saying, “Janira here will be going with you on your Confirmation. She was one of my brightest pupils and will no doubt be an invaluable resource on your journey, for she discovered the caves you are about to explore during her own Confirmation.”

Janira waits for the Pathfinders to settle themselves, then speaks up in an enthusiastic and cheerful voice, “Greetings, aspiring Pathfinders! Six months ago, while I was mapping cave entrances in the foothills of the Kortos Mounts, I witnessed a lone gillman entering a concealed cave. I thought little of it at the time, but I saw another one enter the cave again a month later as my Confirmation stretched on. A few days later, after I completed my assigned task of cataloging plants, I entered the cave system, but was unable to find the gillmen...”

Master Shaine hops to his feet. “Initiates, for your Confirmation, you will travel to these caves to explore and document its many passages. Additionally, and most importantly, you are to learn what the gillmen are up to in there. Oh, and you really do need to come back alive as well.” With these parting words, the Master of Scrolls jumps off the table and ambles a few feet away, hands folded behind his back as he observes each of the Pathfinders one by one.

Welcome to your Confirmation! Please take a moment to introduce your characters, do a little RP with one another and Janira (or Shaine, should you have anything to ask him) before we move on!

The fat Quadiran man in the white robes and bushy mustache smiles at the halfling, his hands resting on his ample belly. "Ah, Mistress Janira! I was told of you by an old friend! He pronounced you a delightful person to share a bottle of Ott's Old Fire with! I am Amahl Bishankar, merchant and arms man by trade! Recently I have heard Sarenrae's song calling to me and I have joined the Pathfinders to see if I may follow it where She calls. Tell me what you know of these caves: are they extensive and have the gillmen a history of coming there?"

A man of average height makes his way into the busy tavern. Slightly slanted eyes take in the scene quickly as a long cat-like tail swisher slowly behind him. Finding his place within the tavern, the. An takes his seat, checking over the various pouches and vials that hang from his person.

He takes in both the halfling and the human before smiling widely.

I am Taelbin. A simple man who has some skill in alchemy and an insight I not investigations. I do hope that my skills will come in handy.

A small, lanky creatures resembling a emaciated goblin has been sitting taking notes in a likely-unfamiliar language. He wears black leathers which look brand new, and he carries a rapier at his side. An overfull backpack of material sits beside him on the floor.

"This one is called Fensyriath Orochi," he begins hesitantly. "Please excuse his speak, this one is new to your language." He collects his thoughts, as if speaking Taldane were an effort.

"This one comes from Minkai, and the lodge of lantern, to join Pathfinding Society. This one will work hard to help explore." Seeming to have run out of words, Fen flushes slightly, looks around awkwardly, and sits back down.

A tall, athletic elf with intelligent eyes surveys the group.

"I am Calanthir Silverhand," he states. "Together we will accomplish this task."

He carries a bow with a sure hand, and quietly checks his two quivers.

A big, hulking bear of a man, with shaggy orange hair, clothed in thick (but immaculately kept!) snow-white furs despite the heat, and with an enormous sword tied across his back, stands up, towering over most of the party members.

"I am glad to hear that you would like us to try to come back alive," he notes dryly. "That is vastly preferred, compared to the alternative... but where are my manners!"

Clicking his heels together, he bows, his movements surprisingly dextrous.

"Greetings, my name Hans Olafsson, and I am from the Land of the Linnorn Kings. I am afraid that I am still fairly new to this city - most of my training was abroad - but if we come across any problems that require blunt force to solve, I can be of great assistance. I should also note that alchemy is something of a passion of mine, so if we run into anything... interesting in that regard, I may be of assistance in identifying it. I also have some skill at wilderness lore, so if you need to find food, or track something, I can probably help."

Master Shaine watches as some of the Pathfinders take the time to introduce themselves, folding his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on his heels all the while. Once most of them have said their peace, he offers Janira a fond smile and throws himself forward in a grossly exaggerated bow, one arm sweeping out to the side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Pathfinder initiates and company," he grandiosely intones, "Best of luck to you all on your Confirmation." Rising up from his bow, Shaine offers one last look to Janira before turning and heading towards the door with an inexplicable spring in his step.

Janira, quiet while the initiates introduced themselves and Shaine saw fit to parade around like a peacock, finally settles in at the table with the others. A loud clunk and clatter accompanies her backpack being set down on the floor as she situates herself on a tall stool that—even with its height—does little to get her to eye-level with everyone.

"Amahl raises an excellent question," Janira notes as she fishes a journal out of her backpack, "and he also sets a fine example. A Pathfinder is only as well-equipped to handle a challenge as they perceive they are. A properly asked question can open a great many doors!"

Flattening her weathered, moleskin journal on the table, Janira swiftly leafs through it to a dog-eared page. "I've been observing the gillmen for several months now, ever since I was on my own Confirmation. A lone gillman comes, once a month, always during the full moon. Always to the same cave. The Society has no written accounts of gillman activity in the area, especially so far inland. The only permanent surface settlement their kind have is all the way in Escadar."

Flipping to a blank page, Janira looks around the table at the gathered group and smiles to herself before making a small note in her journal. "Before we get straight into the assignment, though, I was hoping we might get to know each other a little bit better than the stuffy introductions that usually precede these sorts of ceremonies."

Looking up and around the table, Janira taps one end of her charcoal pencil on her chin, and unintentionally leaves little black marks there each time she does. "Myself, I'm born and raised here in Absalom. My father was—still is—a porter, running carts all around the city. I'd aspired to become a Pathfinder since I was little." She grimaces, "Well, littleer."

"Since my Confirmation, I've been on several assignments for the Society, but I consider myself an educator above all else. While I enjoy field work, I'm just as at home in a classroom or doing instructional assignments like this." Running one hand through her short, blonde hair, Janira takes a moment to consider her company. "Some of you've come a long way to be here; Tian-Xia, the Linnorn Kingdoms, Quadira..."

Furrowing her brows, she finally thinks to ask, "Why?" Like Janira said earlier, a well-asked question can open a great many doors. "What made you all want to do this? Have you all been training for three years, or is this the result of a field-commission for some of you?"

______________
Gameplay
 
GM Note - Automatic Skill Checks: During the course of the confirmation, for speed of play, I will perform some autonomous rolls myself without needing to ask the PCs to roll. This will typically be for Perception checks, Knowledge checks, Initiative, and other rolls performed in reaction. Your rolls will be contained behind a spoiler labeled "GM Rolls", this spoiler tag will also include any monster rolls for transparency's sake.
 
You are always welcome to take the initiative and make your own skill checks, and if you have an ability that can improve a roll's result, re-roll, or otherwise affect such an outcome just indicate (before you make your next in-game post) that you would like to use it and I will modify the results accordingly.
 
Results for any of these automatic checks will be included behind a spoiler tag with your character's name on it.

GM, just so you know. Investigators can use their inspiration ability to add 1d6 to some rolls without using up the uses per day. Taelbin will use that ability for any of his trained knowledge(Arcana, History, and Local) and spellcraft skills.

Taelbin glances around the room at the assembled company, Seems to be quiet the well equipped group. Shouldn't have any problem finding out what these gillmen are doing in the cave. And a northerner that knows alchemy, might have to see what he knows.

"Well, to be completely honest. I traveled from Quadira for knowledge and adventure, but both of those require coin. So the Pathfinders seemed to be the perfect choice. For the last several years I've been working within the society, polishing my skills and learning what I could. This adventure will determine what happens next."

The teifling fixes his eyes on the halfling woman and her journal, "Janira, do you think that this cave has anything to do with the stories of how the gillmen were able to survive when the Starstone struck? Perhaps some connection to their deity or some other kind of safeguard?"

Taelbin's eyes shine with curiosity as you can almost see the various thoughts and ideas being moved about, trying to be lined up into the answer to his own questions.

"Ah ha! I see that I have landed in a fine band indeed. Please, I know so little of these gillmen; please share what you may!" The fat Quadiran man smiles and waves one hand in a friendly fashion.

Ione frowns slightly at the flies buzzing around, her cat like tail flicking in clear displeasure before glancing up at Taelbin, elegantly raising an eyebrow in a clear What are we doing here again?

Silently she takes in the group beside her, the only one she knew is Taelbin who she traveled from Quadira to reach this place together. She picked up her glass that she was drinking from, hand on the top of it to keep the flies at bay and calmly puts it back on the table.

Name's Ione. Like Taelbin I too come from Quadira. My reasons for joining the Pathfinder Society and doing fieldwork are my own.

She paused, tilting her head to consider. The task sounds easy enough. I do know a bit about nature. Surely with a bit of probing we can find some of the answers you seek.

Hans pauses, thinking for a few moments, before responding to Janira's questions.

"I came to the attention of the Society a few years back, when I helped guide a rather unusual party through the icy wastes up north - believe it or not, they were escorting Goblins, although to be honest, I never found out why." He then shrugs. "Still, I did a good enough job that I was sponsored at the Kalsgard Lodge, and after doing some initial training there, I was shipped off to Absalom for 'polishing'..."

Calanthir turns a haughty glance at the group.

"I am here for similar reasons," he states. "Are we all prepared to leave?"

Oi! Youse lot! Dis 'ere where wot one kin get a Pat'finner card?

From the door entrance a half-orc swaggers into the bar. He sees the odd assortment collected at one table and strides to them with purpose. Brox plants himself alongside Hans and nudges his elbow into the large man's side.

Gotsta add an air o' legitimassy t' m'woik 'hey?

I think you may have been invited to the second table! (this one is the first)

Second table is over this way, Brox! :)

Wrinkling her nose at Caranthir, Janira is quiet, though takes a brief note in her journal. After the others have finished speaking—those who opted to, at any rate—she looks back up and around to the group with a wry smile. "Some'f you are so keen on getting to work that you'd run out without really knowing the full length and width of what it is you're going to do."

"But," Janira chirps, "I do appreciate the enthusiasm!"

Flipping through a few pages of her journal, Janira gets to the meat of the meeting, such as it were. There, in pages of tightly packed script, are Janira's personal field reports about her own investigation of the region surrounding the cave. "On to the details of the mission at hand," Janira says with an eager grin. "[b]After reviewing my mission reports personally, Master Shaine believes it is no coincidence that each time the gillmen entered the caves it was during a full moon, so it is also no coincidence that you have been called here now, just a day before the moon is full again. We both believe that tomorrow night is our best chance to find out why these caves are important and what exactly the gillmen are doing in there."

"The caves we’ll be travelling to lie under the base of the Kortos Mounts. We’ll need to spend every minute of daylight possible to reach the caves by foot, crossing over the Cairnlands, taking the paths to Diobel, and finally making our way through the wilderness. With any luck we won’t run into any of the local inhabitants." At that, Janira grimaces and scratches at the back of her neck. "Once in the caves, we’ll need to work together to explore and determine whether any gillman are present or have been recently. Keep an eye out for any other clues that might hint at the caves’ significance, too."

"Now, before we head out, if there aren’t any more questions, we should take a moment to go through your gear and make sure nothing important gets left out." That said, Janira reaches down into her backpack and withdraws six leather-bound journals, each with the seal of the open road embossed in the cover, and a charcoal pencil attached to a rawhide bookmark that is bound to the spine.

One by one, Janira hands the journals out to the Pathfinders gathered at the table. "These are for record-keeping on your Confirmation. Please take not of anything you find of interest, or anything that may seem important. You never know what is going to be significant, or what might make it into the next Pathfinder Chronicle! It'd be embarrassing to say you were on the expedition that uncovered some famed Azlanti ruin, but you didn't get in the history books because you failed to file a report!"

Smiling mischievously, Janira climbs back up on her stool and looks around to the others, awaiting to see if there's anything they need or questions they might have before continuing onward.

__________________
Record Keeping!
Notes and records are important for a Pathfinder's field report. At any point during your Confirmation, you may indicate that you are making a journal entry on a topic or object of interest. Doing so takes 1 minute of time. Please use the format below to indicate when you are taking the time to document something:
 
 Journal Entry (#Topic): <#Brief synopsis.>
 
So an example would be:
 
 Journal Entry (Amahl's Weight): A detailed diagram of Amahl's proportions and an estimate of his full weight and girth.
 
(You'll find far more interesting things to document on your Confirmation!)
 
 
Misc Notes
Thanks for the heads-up about the Investigator's inspiration ability, Taelbin. I knew I'd forget a few tricks the new ACG classes can do. I've gone ahead and opened my PDF of the playtest with the errata from the forums in a notepad so I can try to stay more abreast of those situations!

Fen smiles at Janira. "This one is well -supplied for journaling," he states, gesturing to the journal he has been taking notes in. He flips more than two-third of the way through it to find today's page, and adds everyone's name to the descriptive text he had written earlier.

Turning to the group, he waits for a moment of silence so he can speak without interrupting. "This one has read of the central plateaus of the Kortos island. These should be wary of the centaurs tribes there, and of minotaurs. These ones should also know that harpies dwell in the mountains. This one recommends the purchase of earplugs from the quartermaster before leaving the Lodge."

Fen makes another note in his journal, and then continues. "Caves are often dark, and seldom uninhabited. Do these ones have essential gear? Food, water, rope, light, ways to combat swarming crawling things and horrors of the dark?"

Or'aight no needs ta be poxy...wrong table it is den...

The half orc recedes from the confused and slightly annoyed glares and heads back out of the inn

LOL sorry hehe! :D

Not a problem. I've played with one other investigator and they made the same note to the GM.

Taelbin catches Ione's glance and tries to give her his best reassuring smile before glancing at the offered journals. He begins to pat several of the pouches on his person, his tail even moving up to recheck some. He finally stops and takes one of the offered journals and pens.

"Well, it seems that I was a bit hasty in my preparations and would have forgot something this important. Thank you Janira."

Turning to the strange goblin-like creature. "Sounds like the plateaus can be a dangerous place. I don't know much about the gillmen's current status, but their history I do know a few things. They are sometimes called the Low Azlanti, an amphibious race that somehow managed to survive a massive star falling from the heavens. A star that destroyed both Thassilon and Azlant. Perhaps this cave might give some clues on how they managed to survive."

Taelbin hefts his pack to his shoulders, adjusting the shortbow and quivers to sit properly. "I believe that I will take your advice about the earplugs, but other than that I have the other suggestions."

Some of the described creatures seemed dangerous, and Calanthir took some notes in his journal about what they might face.

It might be wise to research those creatures before setting out.

He nods at the instruction and reviews his gear mentally.

"This one has a question... On this assignment of exploration, the Low Azlanti are not to be disturbed or molested?"

Are the stories of this Society true? Will they kill the innocent to claim it?

GM: I would like to use the Grand Lodge's library before we leave to learn what I can about harpies, centaurs, minotaurs, and gillmen. Or failing that, just make the Knowledge rolls so we can do any last-minute shopping.

Hans accepts the journal with a nod, and a smile.

"It would indeed be unfortunate if we went on our Confirmation, and did not record what we saw!"

Turning to the first page, Hans begins to make some preliminary notes.

Confirmation - party composition: Caranthir, wiry Elf. Taelbin, chemical-smelling Tiefling. Fensyriath, strange tiny dark-skinned creature with red hair. Ione, Aasimar spellcaster. Big (big!) Amahl, holy warrior of Sarenrae.

When finished, he looks up.

"I think I am ready to go. What about the rest of you?"

Amahl takes the pages with a smile of thanks. He places them in a pack, and turns to the others. "I agree. I am ready for the road, my friends!"

"Oh heavens, no. If you can facilitate peaceful interactions with the gillmen that is the way we must carry ourselves. We've no reason to be hostile to them at all, and we should try our best to respect their cultural and religious wishes when possible. But," Janira frowns a little, "remember that we live in a dangerous world and pursue a dangerous occupation. There will be times that confrontations happen, but never discount the power of a well-placed word. Often times it can prevent the alternative—a well-placed sword!"

Wrinkling her nose in amusement at the wordplay, Janira closes her own journal and tucks it into her backpack. "If you all need to pick up supplies before we head out, please do that now. I'll meet you in two hours outside of the city past the Wise Quarter. From there we'll be trekking across the Cairnlands for eight hours and camping in the wilderness. I hope you all have a bedroll, because not all of the rocks are comfortable!"

Sliding off of her stool, Janira threads an errant lock of blonde hair behind one ear, then picks up her backpack and slings it over one shoulder. "We've got to make it to the cave by tomorrow night, so try not to waste too much time! I'll see you all outside the city!"

With that, Janira departs the tavern and leaves the fledgling Pathfinders to their preparations.
 
 
 
 
 
        << The Cairnlands, Isle of Kortos | Party Cloudy, Warm | Mid-Day, Erastus 1st, 4714 AR >>
 
 
 
 
Several hours into the day as the warm summer sun shines brightly overhead the sky is swathed with fluffy, white clouds. A cool breeze blows in from the west, and over the rolling hills of the Carnlands, Janira Gavix leads an entourage of aspiring Pathfinders on foot. Ever since they left Absalom, Janira has been a constant source of conversation, hardly able to keep too long a pause between her stories. Most are retellings of famous Pathfinder adventures from the likes of Durvin Gest, tales of high adventure and fantastical discoveries from half a world away.

Janira stops, every so often, to point out interesting landmarks of note, from old siege towers now overgrown with ivy and moss, to crumbling statues of rampant horses rising up from the hills. Janira also finds plenty of time to stop and inspect a curious flower or copse of trees, making sketches in her journal and keeping pressings of petals and leaves, added to her already prodigious collection. While the halfling is small, she keeps a brisk and steady pace, clearly eager to reach her predetermined campsite on schedule.
 
 
 
 
 
 
        << Ruined Watchtower, The Cairnlands, Isle of Kortos | Clear Skies, Warm, Breezy | Night, Erastus 1st, 4714 AR >>
 
 
 
 
By the time the sun sets on the western horizon, Janira has led the group up to a scenic overlook atop a high hill in the northern Carinlands where leafless, twisting trees grow up around an old, sundered stone tower. The windswept hilltop bristles with scrub grass and vibrant dandelions. Dragonflies buzz and flit between the taller stalks of grass and the yellow flowers, while sea birds turn and wheel overhead on their way from the west shore to the south.

Climbing up a few crumbling steps into what little remains of the tower, Janira sets an oil lantern down next to an ancient stone-walled fire pit, kneeling down to light the lantern with a tindertwig. "Hans, would you take Caranthir with you and gather up some firewood? I'd like to get this going before too long," she notes with a gesture to the fire pit.

"Taelbin, Fensyriath, take a minute and scout around the tower perimeter. Don't go too far, just make sure there isn't anything here I might've missed on my initial scouting foray." With those orders given to a handful of the Pathfinders, Janira settles down by the fire and opens up her bag, removing iron bars and a cooking pot, setting up a spit to prepare tonight's dinner on.

"The rest of you, feel free to set up your bedding. I've got some fresh vegetables I picked up before we left and some marvelous spices. I'll cook us up a nice, spicy soup to give us the strength we'll need to get back on the road tomorrow." Pleased with how things have turned out thus far, Janira continues setting up.

"Seems like our luck has held out so far!"

_______________
GAMEPLAY
@Fensyriath: With only two hours before you set out there's not enough time to take full advantage of the Grand Lodge's library, though you can make whichever Knowledge checks you like. I'll provide you with information from each after you make your checks.
 
Travel Log
You have traveled a day out of Absalom ([u]if you needed to purchase any new gear you must declare it before your next in-character post[/u]). Janira led you over the Cairnlands for eight long hours, and now you've reached an old, ruined watchtower that is little more than a stone floor and partial walls to camp for the evening.
 
Please note any changes to prepared spells you would like to have ready for the next day. Tomorrow I will either continue with RP or I'll move us along to the next day, depending on what it looks like everyone is doing.

Taelbin takes a moment to makes some notes in his journal as the party gathers what they need.

Confirmation - Mission thoughts: Possible connections between the gillmen and the cave within Mount Kortos. Holy site? Rituals? What goes on?

Once finished, he turns to Fensyriath as he puts the journal away. "I would assume they are to be left alone. Unless they attack, but we will have to see."

Calanthir assists in gathering wood for the fire, then assists in starting it.

Once sitting around the fire, Calanthir also documents the day's happenings in his journal.

Confirmation - notes: Party roster, including brief notes on strengths. Also a sketched map travelled thus far, including prominent landmarks.

Amahl, despite his prodigious size, seems to keep up just fine, even singing off key songs in Quadiran as you walk. He aids in the camp set up, doing as he's told or asked, and finally sets down to sketch a few notes and maps.

Knowledge (arcane): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Knowledge (dungeoneering): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

Fen picks up 5 sets of earplugs and an air crystal before leaving town.

Journal entry (Mission briefing) - explore a cave near Absalom and determine whay interest the gillmen have with it.

Journal entry (Team of agents) - Amahl - Qadiran Sarenite, friendly; Taelin - hellspawn alchemist, arrogant; Caranthir - elf archer, impulsive; Hans - Ulfen warrior, literate! Ione - nature's child, secretive.

Fensyriath appears at the gates leading a wooly ram, saddled and packed with gear. "To not slow these ones down," he offers sheepishly by way of explanation. Thruoghout the journey, he listens politely to Janira, trying whenever she pauses to speak to the other members of the party to get to know them.

---

Hearing Janira's orders after the group stops, Fen ties his ram to a tree, checks his personal gear, and nods to Taelbin. "This one is well-suited to... slinking," he begins. "Does that one wish to lead or follow?" I hope he can be trusted. Too many who keep secrets have somthing to hide...

quick post since I'm at work, but Fen's "Literate!" Note in his journal had me laughing.

Going to pick up earplugs before heading out.

Taelbin appears at the gate a bit before the 2 hour time limit, smiling and nodding to the others before they all set out.

During the treck he listens to the stories Janira tells, along with the other points of interest she points out until finally coming to the campsite.

He does arch an eyebrow, his tail twitching slightly as Janira asks him and Fens to scout the area. Setting up camp without scouting the area before hand, hope we don't find anything that setup before us.

"Of course Janira." He replies with a nod before turning to Fens. "Well for ... slinking, I'm not the greatest, but I am willing to try. I'll take the lead, but give me one moment."

Taelbin, pulls a small vial from his belt, quickly dropping in various ingredients in before capping it and slipping it back into his belt. Taking a minute to prepare a Shield Extract in my open spot.

Once that is done, he readies his bow and heads out toward the lighthouse.

Stealth: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Once the scouting is done, Taelbin will make a quick entry into his journal. Day One: Noting the various flora and fauna that Janira pointed out along with the ruins.

Fen is very new to Avistan, having just come over the Crown of the World. He met many brave Ulfen warriors and Shoanti tribesmen, but managed to only see the stereotypical "barbarian" type and doesn't know better.

The ruins, it appears, are as safe as they are old. After a sweep of the perimeter, nothing dangerous or noteworthy aside from the weathered stone is discovered. At the campsite in the ruined tower, Janira prepares a hearty vegetable soup for the group, seasoned with a mixture of spices imported from Quadira, purchased off of a street-vendor in Absalom.

While she cooks the soup in a portable pot over the crackling fire, the halfling spins a yarn about the starlight night sky, telling the Pathfinders about the cosmic caravan—the broad name of each of the constellations of the night's sky—and assists in pointing out which of the constellations are visible this night. Though the story is a long one, it has a kernel of useful wisdom to it, wisdom of being ever-wary for unseen dangers, and ever-ready to stand strong (and united) in the face of overwhelming odds.

As the night goes on, Janira is content to dole out soup, tell tall tales of Pathfinders of old, and enjoy the peaceful night that has been afforded to them all.

___________
Brief post to set the stage for the moment. Check the discussion thread for a brief word about a Paizocon-sized interruption!

Amahl listens to Janira's tales and smiles when she is done. "So, my friends, let us tell the tales that brought us here, shall we? For me, I am Amahl Bishankar, called the Fat because of my slim waistline! I grew up in a small trading post in Qadira, learning the trade of weaponscrafting from my father. When I became skilled enough, I set out to start my own shop in a small town called Gerrona in Taldor. I was mildly successful, but bandits raided our town and burned it to the ground. I was left for dead, my shop destroyed. Were it not for a kindly priest of Saranrae who saw the smoke and aided me, I would be dead! So I decided, when I was well enough, to learn the skill of the arms I made! I heard the calling of Saranrae, and she allowed me a small measure of her mercy. But I was penniless and without a place to call home. My mentor told me of the Pathfinders and I decided to join, knowing that such a band would allow me freedom to practice my new faith, hone my new skills and earn enough coin to start my business once more, perhaps now with an eye toward helping those like me." Amahl smiles and waves a hand toward the others. "Who is next?"

Calanthir makes himself busy stoking the fire.

I haven't been much for talk since their murders. Perhaps I should try...

"You should not be so hard on yourself with your nickname," he attempts. "Perhaps 'The Stocky', 'The Stout', or 'The Heavyset'?" he suggests.

Calanthir looks awkward in his attempt at conversation, then just shuts his mouth and continues playing with the fire.

Amahl laughs loudly. "Truth be told, friend, I was given the name by a particularly rude customer. I told her, 'Madam, I may be fat but you are ignorant, and I can lose weight!' I did not have the grace of Saranrae then! But it is no sin to be fat! I have lived a very good life and I have no shame over my frame and its size. To some the gods grant beauty and to some the gods grant grace, but to me they granted girth so that I might be seen and heard from a great distance! The better to spread the word of redemption! So it is my pleasure to fulfill the gods' wishes as best I can, with loud voice and great size."

Taelbin laughs at the large man's attitude.

"It is refreshing to see someone with your attitude, Amahl. Many would not see your size the way you do."

The tiefling seems to take a moment to look about the group before continuing.

"As for myself, I am Telbin Morro. I too came from Qadira, Khoka to be precise. That is were I learned my trade of alchemy.I had hoped to work simple as a trader, perhaps joining a caravan to ply my wares, but my mentor fell afoul of some locals and my training and life as I had planned it ceased."

"I had heard tales of the Pathfinders and realized that perhaps with them I could find my new life. So I traveled here, with Ione, and joined up with the Society. For the last several years I have been finishing my training and working within the Society, but this is my first true mission."

Hans enjoyed the vigorous exercise provided by tramping through the Cairnlands, into the hinterlands of the Isle of Kortos. However, when the time came to rest, he was equally happy to put his feet up in front of the fire, and enjoy the stew, nodding along as Janira tells her tale.

"I grew up in a small village about a days' travel from Kalsgard. The winters were tough, but there was always a distinct sense of camaraderie and welcome. When I came of age, I decided to strike out on my own for a while, and hired-on to various merchant caravans to act as guard/guide, all the better to see more of the world outside my small community. However, as I mentioned before, what changed my life's direction was when I encountered a band of Pathfinders tasked with herding a group of Goblins through the area - I decided that any group that could manage to make Goblins behave (relatively) well was a force to be reckoned with, and when given an opportunity to align myself with them, I jumped at the chance..."

He pauses introspectively for a few moments, before continuing.

"...and now here we all are, from all over Avistan, seeking to complete a common task. If that does not speak for the uniting potential of the Society, I do not know what does!"

As things quieted down around the campfire, Carathir was glad he would not need to talk much more. He toyed with the fire a little longer, then eventually left to meditate and sleep.

Amahl sits for a while, quietly watching the fire before heading off to sleep. He rises with the sunrise, kneeling to pray to his goddess before beginning the day.

Caranthir rolls up his bedroll and packs the remainder of his gear.

"Hello, Amahl "the Stout"! he greets the paladin.

"Are we ready to head out?"

Amahl smiles as he heaves himself to his feet and brushes off his knees where he knelt for his prayers. "I believe I am ready! I look forward to seeing these caves for myself. Perhaps we might be honored enough to meet one of these 'gillmen' and discuss their beliefs?"

As the group makes tconversation, Janira is content to sit back and listen to them share stories. No more has she brought out her journal, this time she is engaged in the personal tales of her companions out of personal interest, not professional curiosity. Settled cross-legged in front of the fire, the blonde halfling allows the night to pass by her with each story told.

With their stories said, and some without words to remark on, the night passes by without threat or concern. No dangers to be seen in the wilderness, nothing but fireflies dancing and flickering on the distant fields like stars that came down to visit the world's surface for an evening. The stars above, however, tell different stories all together as they trace their way across the heavens.

Come morning, however, the camp is notable light one body. Ione's bedroll has disappeared and her gear likewise gathered up. Janira seems unconcerned as the others awaken, putting out the last embers of the fire with a bucket of water harvested from a nearby brook. "Ione left last night," she remarks to the others with a sad frown. "She'd been feeling ill the whole way here, and ultimately just couldn't manage the rest of the trek. I offered to escort her back, but she said she'd be fine. Still, I loaned her my spare Wayfinder and a sketch of the map so she could get back safely."

Exhaling a sigh, Janira sets the bucket down by the old stone hearth and rests her hands on her hips. "Being a Pathfinder isn't easy, and the journey sometimes long and hard. With the few of us remaining, we're off to the Kortos Woods."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
        << Kortos Woods | Partly Cloudy, Warm | Mid-Day, Erastus 2nd, 4714 AR >>
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Ancient trees rise up with thick, mossy trunks and create a canopy of dense foliage so thick that it blocks out much of the mid-day sun overhead. After having traveled for some five hours past the ruined tower, the Pathfinders found themselves entering the Kortos Woods which lie on the border of the mountains. Here, where sunlight comes through as dappled swaths of gold across fields of brown pine needles and deadfall, the sounds of buzzing insects and chirping birds fills the air.

Leading the way at a brisk pace for her size, Janira eagerly hope from deadfall log down onto the dead leaves underfoot, using a fallen branch she'd picked up along the way as a walking stick. "So then, with the wooden sword in hand Ulzhan's eyes gleamed. She lowered the sword. "You're a strange man, Bors Kaskyrbai." She said in a firm voice, "But you would have made a fine husband." Swiftly, she stepped forward and kissed him on the lips, then pulled back a few inches to meet his gaze. "Don't come back," she warned with a kindness unexpected."

Janira has been telling this story for the last couple of hours, a tale of intertwined fates and lost loves, the kind of story that gets her starry-eyed and filled with wonder. Though the tale of Horse and Rabbit, as she called it, is an atypical one it is a story that has helped pass the time of long travel afoot.

"Bors laughed. "Don't w—"" Janira stops her story, pausing in mid-stride with a single hand raised at her back to signal the others to stop moving. Quietly, she scans the forest with a single brow raised and lips parted in an expression of uncertainty. Bird calls, the buzzing of cicadas, the occasional snap and pop of distant branches, what else could she hear?

The others hear it too once she stops her storytelling, the sound of splitting wood. It comes from behind the group, and soon the shadow of a tumbling tree comes into view. Caranthir leaps back with enough time to allow the tree to come crashing down beside him, hammering the forest floor and kicking up a cloud of dust and old, dried leaves. The sound echoes through the woodlands, sending birds scattering from the branches of higher trees.

But birds are not the only things disturbed by this fallen tree, as a pair of enormous dog-sized insects land from higher trees with a sickening snap-crack of mandibles. These tan, hunch-backed bugs are bulbous beady-eyed, with flickering jaws and long, bent legs that look to carry all of the power of a tightly-wound spring in them.

"Do not fear!" Janira shouts, "prepare to defend yourselves! These predators look agitated!"
 
 
 
 
 
 
      << Encounter: A Dangerous Path | Terrain: Forest | Hazards: None | Map Link: Kortos Woods >>
 
 
 
 
 
 
______________________
GAMEPLAY

Before posting in combat, please check the Discussion thread for the post that will be there momentarily!

I think you may have used the wrong PC icons? I don't recognise any of them ;-)

EDIT: Heh. Looks like I was too quick to post - I see that the map has been updated :-)

Hans - Round 1

With a roar, Hans charges one of the bugs...

Full Round Action, Charge Bug @P8 with Greatsword: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 2 = 15, for 2d6 + 10 ⇒ (2, 3) + 10 = 15 Slashing damage.

...cutting it half, and spraying haemolymph all over the place.

Hans, you've got lightning quick reflexes, those icons were only there for about three minutes! Ha!

"Nicely done!" Caranthir yells at Hans. Setting his feet, he draws an arrow and waits for a good shot.

Fen - Round 1
Fen looks at the creatures carefully, trying to recall his zoology classes. Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10 "Giant fleas. Disgusting vermin!" Fen takes a step to one side to find a clear shot, and looses an arrow at the flea that Hans did NOT charge. The arrow flies wide, burying itself in the undergrowth.

My icon isn't there, so I'm not quite sure where I am...
5' step to O18
Move-equivalent action - activate archaeologist's luck (+1)
Standard action - fire shortbow: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

EDIT: link was pointing to the wrong map, now I can find myself!

Sorry about that, Fen! I'll make sure the correct one is in that post next round. For everyone else's knowledge, the map link at the top of the thread is accurate. The perils of copy/paste!