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Deciding cooking, eldritch study and (especially) singing are not her thing, Eadie approaches the group of warriors maintaining their weapons and armor.
“I am Eadie Silverskin of the Pathfinder tribe. My chieftain called Venture-Captain Smine Weapon-maker sent us to build stronger relations with your tribe.”
Feeling a little awkward amongst the strangers, Eadie tries not to show it as she confidently removes her great helm and begins cleaning the travel grit and grease from her weapons.
*Hmph* study.” Eadie waves a dismissive hand at the arcane scholars. “I prefer to see the fear in my enemy’s eyes as their fresh blood sprays my silver skin.”
Wondering if there is any knowledge she can share with the Ghost Wolves, Eadie pulls a pot of alchemical grease from her pack.
"If you paint this on your armor, it is easier to escape from a Technic League ..." she *spits* on the ground “brawler or myrmidon’s pincers.”
“How do you fight large robots? I like to lunge with my sky metal falchion.” Eadie demonstrates the maneuver. “If I drink a potion to make me larger, the tactic works even better.”
She *sniffs* at the potion vial. “I suppose casties are good for something.”
Take 10 Climb: 10 + 7 = 17
While still encased in armor, Eadie also carries out her regular calisthenics routine, which incorporates a run in full kit, pushups, situps and a little Tien yoga. She finds a convenient tree to climb, drops a rope from one of its branches and practises climbing up and down, while casting envious glances at the individuals sparring.

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Assuming that V will head toward the tent of casters, Amestra drifts about the camp offering her services as translator when needed. Though she can't hold a tune worth a darn, she does try to learn at least the words of the song the elders are singing, as well as the meaning and story behind it.
-Posted with Wayfinder

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Not one for much socializing (having all the companionship he could ever want always with him), Insidion throws his bedroll to the ground, and using it for a pillow, drifts off for a nap.
A thin glow emanates from each closed eye as he sleeps.

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Karl finds peace amongst the children that are seen running around camp. And he joins them for a game of tag, trying to infect himself with some of the happiness that playing kids naturally have. Using his speed and agility to keep himself at a distance, but letting himself be caught every now and then, after all, not being able to win a game is frustrating, and he doesn't want to impose such feeling on the small Wolves.
After tiring some of the children out, he stops the game to find some bowmen for friendly accuracy competition.
-Posted with Wayfinder

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V looks around, shrugs, and heads off to the mystics' tent to see what it might have to offer.

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Kai first wanders over to the scholars, his natural thirst for knowledge never satiated. He stands at a respectful distance listening in, but not being a spellcaster himself, he eventually finds himself lost in their ramblings. What's more, he finds himself distracted by the noise of the screaming children, especially when Karl is running after them.
Soon, he wanders over and after watching a while with a bemused smile, joins in. When they tire of the game of tag, he introduces them to a game of Eagles Catches the Chicken, a game apparently played in Goka (at least that's what his father said). Soon, he finds himself at the head of a long line of children, blockading the efforts of the "eagle" from stealing his "chicks". With their boundless energy, even Kai eventually collapses to the floor in exhaustion, though with a wide gleeful smile on his face.

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As it turns out, the Ghost Wolves are interested in seeing fighting techniques as practiced among the warriors of the Inner Sea and out West.
Eadie, you can make an attack roll against an AC of 20 to showcase how people-at-arms fight in Korvosa.
In the mystic's tent, Vanzetti and find themselves quickly amidst a friendly debate as to the possibility to angle cone effects.
If you want to participate, or perhaps keep your own counsel on that matter but share some of your arcane knowledge, you can either make a spellcraft check or a knowledge (Arcana) check. Of course, you can further refine how you want to interact with these people and thus provide me with a skill check you'd like to make along with a reasoning behind it.
Karl begins playing with the children, who gleefully include the visitor in their games.
Playing games with children is taxing! Make a Fortitude save![ooc]
Amestra is taught some of the working songs sung by these Kellids, but finds herself asked about songs where she comes from, or perhaps stories; it's clear that noone actually enjoys butchering boar, but sharing song or tales around the task is a way to distract oneself from the monotony.
[ooc]Amestra, you can try a Perform check, or perhaps a knowledge (History) check. Unless you want to make a story up, in which case Bluff will be needed.
I know a couple of you wanted to divvy up your time between a couple things, but let's resolve this first batch and then we'll get to your secondary activities.

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Spellcraft: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

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Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
Karl hadn't tired so fast in a long time, when he began his monastic training. It appears he has gotten out shape after getting caught time, after time. He tries to save face acting as if it was intentional. Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28
But, if any Wolf asks him about his failing stamina, he says "It's been a long time since I was this tired, I believe these kids will grow to be excellent warriors if they wish so."
Unless you rule he can't use Bluff to act that way because of Vow of Truth, then he just states the latter.

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Relieved at the Ghost Wolves’ interested looks, Eadie grins.
“I have learnt at the feet of many great swordmen. My first mentor was Don Vencarlo Orisini, who ran a fencing school in the Old City of my home town. My drill instructor at the Grand Lodge of Absalom was Master of Swords, VC Marcos Farabell …”
A blur of silver at ground level suddenly silences the young warrior. Though the creature is small, Eadie feels fear bubble up in her tummy as her nemesis weaves its way through the Ghost Wolves at blinding speed. Clearly it has selected the lone Pathfinder as its target!
Her fight or flight response engaged, Eadie subconsciously chooses the former. Snatching her just-cleaned falchion from the rack, she swipes the ground before her, like a farmer scythe-harvesting wheat as the furball enters the space she occupies.
falchion (non-power) attack vs AC 20: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (4) + 19 = 23
Neatly separating the critter’s tiny head from its body, Eadie manages to suppress a *shudder*
"I HATE mice! One ran up my leg once, in an old apartment I shared with my Aunt Alix."
Eadie is ready for a second round challenge, if appropriate GM Upaynao.

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Learning the words of the elders' songs is quite easy for her, but singing them is nigh impossible. Knowing how badly she sings, Amestra defers from performing, not wanting to insult them with her awful rendition. But when they ask her about songs and stories, she eagerly begins with the ancient history of the Elves and the Sovyrian Stone, and then segues into the tale of Treerazer and the Elves' ongoing battles against him. She learns from the tribesmen that they know nothing of the Mwangi, so drawing on what she learned on an adventure there, she tells them about the Ekujae elves and ties their story back into the ones she already told.
Kn(History): 1d20 + 1d6 + 1d4 + 9 ⇒ (5) + (5) + (2) + 9 = 21
I'm using the +1d4 benefit from a Faction Pin on this roll, also. I have a Grand Lodge pin for her, which can be used once per session for Kn(History), Diplomacy, or Survival.
-Posted with Wayfinder

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One last post before I make my way to GenCon! Posting on my part will be spotty for the duration of the convention. If you want to see me, stop by in between slots. I will be GMing most of the time.
I'm fine with it in this situation Karl.
Evening sets in, and the Ghost Wolves begin preparing a communal feast of dried fruit, hard cheese, and meat carved and roasted from the immense boar. Entertainment takes the form of tales both solemnly historic and vividly comedic, including a lively story Jala tells of a bumbling spine dragon. Some of the elders, impressed with Amestra's stories, beg her to join on in, with calls for all outsiders to pitch in with their own story.
Xol-Nomag finally makes her grand appearance, brandishing a severed gearsman's head as she marches into camp with her warriors. She greets her people with aplomb and almost savage enthusiasm, but for the time being does not approach or address you, preferring instead to observe you all sternly from afar. Among her own tribe, people tread carefully around her, treating her with a blend of awe, devotion, and perhaps even fear in some.

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“Ooh! Ooh! I know a story!”
Eadie sits cross-legged on the ground, eating heartily with her fingers in the style of her hosts. With her training regimen complete, she wears lamellar leather ‘jammies’ along with her full complement of weapons.
The young warrior bows her head respectfully if she senses Xol-Nomag's penetrating gaze, but otherwise acts normally – laughing and chatting with her neighbors and listening attentively to the Ghost Wolves’ tales.
“It’s a true story of daring, love, jealousy and betrayal! A timely reminder of the need for two tribes to understand one another, if they are going to build the trust required to sustain a lasting relationship.”
“But enough of pretty speeches.” Eadie *rolls* her eyes in self-mockery.
"Early in my Pathfinder career, I was spelunking deep underground with two cool male tengu, when the party got caught in a diabolical trap. It was a very tense time, and I suspect most of us were thinking, 'We're not getting out of this.'"
Eadie thinks back to that time and *shudders*
"We were all about to go completely underwater - I was wearing armor made of heavy steel links - when we caught a lucky break and the water drained away."
"The humans in the party were relieved and emotional, as you can imagine. Our steadfast paladin of Iomedae danced for joy, like your old folk do when nobody’s watching." Eadie *winks* at the gray-hairs sitting around the fire.
"And in my adrenaline fuelled rush of relief, I kissed the nearest two of my companions - one of whom was the more dapper of the two tengu. He conferred with his fellow birdman who opined that according to human customs, he understood that meant we were now married!"
Eadie chuckles and *shrugs* "So I decided to play along. At the end of the mission, I explained to my beau that he had to cover me head to toe in shinies, give me his share of the spoils (though I promised him a small allowance), organize a séance at the Temple of Pharasma to formally ask Aunt Alix for my talon in marriage and stop hanging out with his mates at the pub."
"I told him he wouldn't miss his friends, because I had prepared a very long honey-do list of things for him to do about the nest and what else did he have to do now anyway? Seeing that I'd given him a very generous 6pm curfew."
**Innocently** "Can you believe I haven't seen my no-good husband for years now!"
Eadie grins wickedly.

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It doesn't take much prompting to get Amestra to tell another tale. Harkening back to another of her adventures, she chooses the story of Ranulf the Hammerhand, also known as the Huscarl King.
Turning to her Pathfinder colleagues, she apologizes, Friends, I'm going to tell this story in Hallit, since it's about a Kellid chieftain. I'll tell you all the story later on the road, I promise.
Then rummaging about in her pack, she withdraws a tiny jar of white grease and proceeds to cover her face in a ghostly white mask. Addressing the tribe in Hallit, she begins by explaining the face painting.
When I journeyed into the Realm of the Mammoth Lords some time ago, I was inducted into the Kellid Snowmask Clan as a Snowmask Sister. That Clan covers its faces in this manner as a tribute to their patriarch, Ranulf the Hammerhand. Let me tell you his story and that of Jedrek's Shard.
Sorry, I tried copying and pasting the background info and story from Scenario 2-19, Shades of Ice Part 3, Keep of the Huscarl King into a spoiler. But Wayfinder, Acrobat and my tablet wouldn't cooperate. For the compete story, please see the Scenario intro.
Kn(Local) covers "Legends and personalities" so I'd like to use that since the story is about a fellow Kellid tribe, and one that she's a ritual member of, per the boon from said chronicle.
Kn(Local) taking 10, rolling Inspiration: 1d6 + 10 + 14 ⇒ (1) + 10 + 14 = 25
-Posted with Wayfinder

Yours is mined |

Amestra begins:
“Whitethrondagi Soya Lodge shtab-kvartirasida ma'lumotlar bizni yo'qolgan Ulfen shohining qoldiq minorasini qidirib topib, bizni Mammoth Lordlar Qiroliga olib bordi.”
“U erda bo'lish uchun aytilgan kuchli qurol, Pathfinder Jamiyatining vayronagarchiliklarini tuzganlarning qo'llariga tushib qolsa, falokat keltiradi! Kim birinchi bo'lib topadi?”
“The powerful weapon rumored to be there would spell disaster if it fell into the hands of those who plot the Pathfinder Society’s destruction! Who will find it first?”

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Insidion comes out of his tent to listen to the stories.
He finds Eadie's story amusing and lets out a hearty roar. When Amestra tells her story, he listens but does not understand the tongue of this people.
He hopes it comes across well in translation.

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In the mystic's tent, Vanzetti and find themselves quickly amidst a friendly debate as to the possibility to angle cone effects.
I didn't post earlier as I was not prompted, but after re-reading your previous post, I'm wondering it you had meant "Vanzetti and Kai" in the post above? If so, the following is his post to follow up. If not, just ignore. :)
After listening for a while, Kai could not resist the nerdy temptation to join in. "Apologies, I am not a spellcaster myself. My talents lie more in alchemy. But I have done some extensive studies of spell targeting. Just wanted to share that Archwizard Wendellan did archive in his Tome of Spell Shaping that various options for a close-ranged spellcaster in directing conical spell effects off to one side as a strategy to avoid allies. The efficacy of that, however, is still much debated in future reference texts."
kn(arcana): 1d20 + 13 + 1d8 ⇒ (20) + 13 + (1) = 34
Kai looks around in wonder, absorbing all the sights and sounds of the customs of the Ghost Wolf tribe. He sits cross-legged with everyone and sample every morsel of food and sip of drink that he can, eagerly experiencing a foreign culture that he seldom gets the opportunity to as a busy Pathfinder. He does note when Xol-Nomag enters and bows his head at her entrance respectfully, but seeing no signs from her, does not approach her for now.
He turns his attention to Eadie's story and laughs along uproariously at the end. Although skeptical of the truth of the story, he reminds himself what his father had shared with him once. But the power of a story lies not in the facts, for all stories carry truths of their own. He then turns Amestra. Unfortunately, he knows little of the language, and barely manages to catch the general drift of the tale. Powerful weapon? Lost tower? That sounds vaguely similar to my last mission. :)
linguistics: 1d20 + 9 + 1d8 ⇒ (6) + 9 + (2) = 17
Looking around and seeing no one else chip for now, Kai speaks up. "Let me share a tale, a tale my mother shared with me when I was young. A tale I remember fondly. A tale of gods and mortals. A tale of power. And a tale of how love makes it complete."
"Hei Feng, as the god of storms, is assigned the heavenly duty of punishing wrongdoers, smashing them with the power of his thunder. However, more often that not, he is capricious is his task and both the innocent and guilty fall under his blows.
Dian Mu is a young woman, filial beyond all expectations. She lives with her elderly blind mother in a barren farm, barely etching out a living from day to day. One particular season, the harvest was particularly bad. Dian Mu, however, kept this from her mother. She continued to cook rice porridge for her from the meager harvest, while she was boiling the husk from the rice to make a thin rice soup for herself. This went on for weeks until eventually, the mother grew suspicious. She dropped her chopsticks on the ground, as if by accident, and when Dian Mu obediently bent to pick it up, the mother grabbed over her bowl and discovered the truth.
The mother was touched and heart-broken at the extent that her daughter had sacrificed herself for her. She cried and hugged her daughter, insisting that no matter what happens, they must share the food. Dian Mu tearily agreed, and went out of the house to pour away husky broth.
Unfortunately, Hei Feng flying in the midst of the stormy clouds, failed to see clearly and assumed that this mortal woman was wasting precious food. To punish her, he recklessly struck his hammer and chisel together to send a bolt of thunder that killed Dian Mu almost instantaneously. The mother, hearing the explosion, ran out and felt the unconscious form of her daughter. She collapsed beside her, heartbroken, and soon passed away from grief as well.
Almost immediately, the heavens struck Hei Feng down, who landed just beside Dian Mu. Only then did he get a close look, and realised his colossal mistake. And he became touched by the filial piety that Dian Mu had shown to her mother. But what was done was done. With deep remorse, Hei Feng appealed to the heavens. The heavens listened, not only bringing Dian Mu back from the dead, but installing her as his assistant. She was granted a pair of mirrors to light Hei Feng's way before he strikes.
They worked together closely after that, Hei Feng's belligerent nature became more tempered by Dian Mu's kindness. These two opposites attract, and soon they became husband and wife. They continue working together to this day and that is why you see lightning before hearing thunder."

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The Amazing Vanzetti regales his audience with the tale, supplemented richly by magical phantasms, sound effects, and pyrotechnics, of The Vitruvian One, a boy who was outcast among his people for both his strange glass-colored skin, and for his stiff-necked refusal to revere their cruel and demanding gods, and how, after his land's pious Diabolist priest-king worked to fulfill a prophecy that brought legions of devils to the mortal world, The Vitruvian One singlehandedly forced back the invasion through wits, will, and sorcery, and saved his people from 10,000 years of Hell on Golarion - and derailing an ancient prophecy in the process, a testament to the power of mortal free will! The story concludes that when approached by the gods of the Upper Planes with the offer of an honored place in Heaven, Nirvana, or Elysium, he refused them all, opting instead to become an "angel of mortals," pledged for all time to defend the Prime Material from those extraplanar forces that would exploit, defile, or subjugate it.
Perform (Acting), Sacrificial Boon: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (13) + 17 = 30

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“Wow, Kai! So lightning is just the Thunder god’s missus doing tricks with mirrors.”
"I’m soooo gullible." Eadie shakes her head. "The Sapphire Sage told me lightning is a sudden electrostatic discharge, resulting from a potential difference between two electrically charged clouds, or between a cloud and the Golarion."
“And I actually believed him!”
☁ ⚡ ☂ ⚡
Eadie listens intently to V’s tale, though the strength of her faith blinds her to the story’s moral.
The Vitruvian One kinda reminds me of someone … But who?
Hmm … Singlehandedly forced back the invasion through wits, will, and sorcery … derailed an ancient prophecy … angel of mortals …
OHHHH! I get it now!
It’s a parable about Aroden!

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“Wow, Kai! So lightning is just the Thunder god’s missus doing tricks with mirrors.”
"I’m soooo gullible." Eadie shakes her head. "The Sapphire Sage told me lightning is a sudden electrostatic discharge, resulting from a potential difference between two electrically charged clouds, or between a cloud and the Golarion."
“And I actually believed him!”
Kai laughs out loud at this, not sure if Eadie is serious or teasing, but finding it hilarious nonetheless. "Well, there are truths and there are truths. The power of a story lies not in the facts, for all stories carry truths of their own."

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Karl is enjoying the stories told by his companions, but has no more stories to share, his had not been an exciting life before joining the Society and over half of his adventuring career was chasing the dragon in Taldor, which he already spoiled the victory and tragedy a few days ago for his new friends.
For now he listens attentively to every tale around him, be it from a Pathfinder or a Wolf.
-Posted with Wayfinder

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From the gormless expression on Eadie’s face, Kai concludes that the falchion-fighter is being serious. (She isn’t the brightest LED in the high-tech dungeon)
“Most definitely, Kai. I think stories impart lessons more effectively than one of VC Valsin’s dry old lectures, or from being yelled at by the Master of Swords.”
Eadie fingers her left cheek as something pricks her memory. “If V can tolerate it, I know a story about Faith. It involves the time I came face-to-Face with Abadar Himself …”

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With a lull in the conversation and hearing no objections, Eadie begins.
“I was going through a rebellious phase against my adopted mother’s faith. We had recently experienced an epidemic in Korvosa, and Archbanker Tuttle’s response was pretty much, ‘Seal the Golden Vault against the plebs! We’re OK, let them eat cake.’”
“My aunt was in an ‘off-again’ phase in her affair with one of the bank’s mid-ranking clerics – and even I could see the priestess was never going to leave her husband for my aunt.”
“We were fighting incessantly about my attitude to work at the Bank, and during one particularly heated exchange I said some truly horrid things to her.”
Eadie's speech is laden with regret. “Things that I can never take back because that same afternoon she was accidentally run down by a merchant's cart and killed.”
☪ ❂ ☪ ❂
“So I arrived in Qadira for my first Pathfinder mission pretty down on life in general and Abadar in particular. Then one of my companions started on at me about being a ‘rookie in need of protection on the mean streets’ and how he was the one to do it.”
Eadie sighs. “Now in hindsight I know he was just teasing me, but his timing was … Oh, so very bad! I gave him a mouthful – didn’t hold back and the expression on the poor guy’s face was identical to the one on my aunt’s the last time I saw her alive …”
“The team worked well together during our first time in combat, but the guy from before and I managed to get poisoned with some muscle-atrophying thing. I shook it off quickly – but he didn’t! Clearly we were inexperienced and underprepared and he began slipping away from us rapidly …”
“I couldn’t believe it! It was like history repeating itself. He was less than ten seconds from death when I just threw gold pieces at the crowd, screamed out for antitoxin at the top of my lungs – making a complete spectacle of myself … when some merchant pushed his way through the onlookers and delivered the serum into my hands. I poured it down his throat and … he survived! Though he remained very weak.”
“We took him to a mosque of Sarenrae, where I asked for an interview with the Imam. I explained what has happened and asked her if I had experienced a Visitation from Abadar.”
She replied, ‘The Balanced Scale provides what you need – but there is a price to pay for what you want.’”
Eadie’s sombre tone changes to one of uplifting joy.
“I’m convinced Abadar was with us on the streets of Sedeq that day, and my faith in the Master of the First Vault has never wavered since.”

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V raises an eyebrow beneath his mask at Eadie's story.
"It sounds to me like that was a prayer made to, and answered by, the beneficence of your fellow mortal - are mortals really so much more difficult to believe in than 'gods?'"

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“I can’t disregard what you’re saying, V. And I accept business may be done differently in Andoran.”
Eadie speaks calmly and logically, like she’s given this matter some thought. “But if you said, ‘Trust me, I’m a pop-up stall merchant’ in Korvosa or Absalom, you’d be laughed off the street.”

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V is now a little puzzled.
"And yet...trust an unfamiliar merchant is precisely what you did."
Sense Motive to see he's managing to get his point through: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

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Eadie can’t hit a DC 24 Sense Motive, V :)
“Out of options and time, I grasped whatever straw there was.”
"And yet...trust an unfamiliar merchant is precisely what you did."
Eadie’s eyes take on a faraway look. “If He was in fact, an unfamiliar merchant.”

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V sighs gently. She doesn't seem to get it.
He turns to the others. "Anyone else have a story?"
He suddenly looks out the corner of his eyes at Insidion. "How about you, Mr....'Cabbage,' was it?"

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Insidion grudgingly shares a tale of a conflicted halfling, Gollum, who seems tempted to betray his companions.
The part of Smeagol is played by a different voice, one not Insidion's own.
GOLLUM: WHAT?
SMEAGOL: Leave now......and never come back.
GOLLUM: NO.
SMEAGOL: Leave now and never come back.
Gollum growls and bears his teeth
SMEAGOL: Leave now and never come back!
There is silence and no response from Gollum
SMEAGOL: We told him to go away. And away he goes, precious. (he jumps and leaps about) Gone! Gone! Gone! Smeagol is free!
perform: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

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I saw that play ...
In 3 separate Acts – with a year's intermission between each one.

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The Kellids laugh raucously, nod somberly or clap vigorously as the situation demands. It's looking like the Pathfinders are a big hit! Except perhaps with Xol-Nomag; seated at the head of the banquet table she leans forward on her throne, stroking her chin with her right hand as she looks hard at each of you. Nonetheless, other tribesmen and women step up to tell tales of bravery in the face of evil sorcery brandished by the Technic League, or soulless constructs from beyond the stars.
Finally, Xol-Nomag stands, and the gathering falls silent. "It pleases me to see us all healthy and in such good spirits. The gods favor us on this day, but we must remember that favor is fickle, and it is often brought about by strength of arms and stern words. But enough of that; we have guests tonight! Rise Pathfinders; step forth and speak if you have any words for me."

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Kai glances briefly at his other teammates, before standing up. Nodding his head deferentially at the imposing leader, he first gestures for the axe crafted by Smine to be gifted to Xol-Nomang. "Please, mighty chieftain, a gift crafted by our Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine. I'll come straight to the point. We seek merely a simple matter - safe passage to Sulfur Gulch. As is the mission of us Pathfinders, we seek to uncover what lies in the ruins under there. And hopefully, put down some of the threat from the Numerian technology that likely runs rampart there. In this, we share a common goal."
diplomacy: 1d20 + 15 + 1d8 ⇒ (16) + 15 + (2) = 33

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"A mighty gift indeed" she replies, taking the greataxe and testing it's weight and feel with a couple of experimental swings. "A great weapon for sure. It cuts deep and to the point, and leaves nothing hidden. Like your lust for Starfall technologies" she adds with a dangerous smile. "You would come before me and claim repayment of the debt our ancestors incurred, yet spit in the face of our customs. We have seen the dangers of Sky technologies, the easy allure of it. Do you think us simple? No technology leaves our lands, debt or not" she finishes but as she leans back, you believe that she expects a response, perhaps even a rebuttal.

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"All that we do would be in collaboration with your tribe, of course," Insidion says, choking down just in time some snide remark as another voice began speaking.
diplomacy aid: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

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You sure you don't want to try the Sense motive? It's a super low DC for your tier for a reason!!!!!

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Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
"As you know far better than we, the world is full of wealthy and powerful interests who would go to almost any lengths to acquire Numeria's unique antiquities. Let me assure you, of all those interests, very few are more benign and trustworthy than the Pathfinder Society, and of those few who may be moreso, none come close to the Society's reach and resources - but some of the more wicked ones do. Consider this an opportunity to at once relieve yourselves of these dangerous wonders, entrust them to safe hands, AND deny them to more wicked of the world."
Diplomacy, Sacrificial Boon: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
Uh-oh, can I get a few aids? DM, might I get a bonus for making a good argument?

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It's a good argument, although fairly standard. I have a circumstance bonus in mind. But perhaps it might be best if someone took that and ran with it? Although, perhaps with a few assists it would be suifficient? Muahahahaha. I'll let you figure it out.

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"Like my friend Kai just said, if we are able to take some of our findings back to Absalom we will not only ensure they do that fall in the wrong hands, but also we will be able to study them and find a way to be better prepared at both fighting and defending from this technological beasts"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

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Sense Motive + faction pin: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 2 + 1 = 14
Unable to pierce Xol-Nomag’s inscrutable expression, Eadie attempts to build on the words of V and Karl.
“The Technic League ratbags have formed an axis with the Society’s archrivals – the Aspis Consortium. A corporation interested only in exploiting your starfallen charges for profit!”
“If our two peoples were to ally in a similar fashion, we would both be better equipped to face our common enemies together.”
Eadie follows up with a change of tack. “We believe something may be building inside Sulfur Gulch. If the complex is creating metal men or some other doomsday device, it could spell disaster for the Ghost Wolf tribes.”
The warrior holds up a hand in placation. “Now I accept there is a risk that allowing outsiders into the Sulfur Vault could stir up what lies within. However, there is greater risk in doing nothing and being surprised if the Metal Womb births Flying Annihilators or worse!”
“We have the prerequisite experience in dungeon-delving and trouble-shooting. With the added bonus of … being expendable.”
Aid Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11

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Watching Xol-Nomag's body language and expressions, and reading into her tone of voice and the lilt of her accent, Amestra deduces what she's really thinking behind her bluster.
Using 2 points of Panache to add an one extra 1d6 to each of these rolls.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2d6 + 5 ⇒ (17) + (1, 3) + 5 = 26
Following Kai's lead and adding to the sentiments of her collegues, Amestra continues, "Our Society values studying what we find, and learning from the cultures and lands we find them in. It is why we all speak other tongues, and why even simple adventurers as ourselves know the histories and stories of so many cultures. In the same way, our Society scholars would study any artifacts with the respect and deference they deserve. Perhaps in doing so they would find cures for some of the strange diseases that rampage this land, or find ways to disable the dangerous devices more easily. And because we respect the cultures, we would ensure that any such knowledge gained would be shared with you."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2d614 ⇒ (18) + (210, 445) = 673
OOPS! Wait, I can't roll d614's? I didn't want a "cheater" flag for correcting the dice type, so here's the correct roll:
Diplomacy - Corrected!: 1d20 + 2d6 + 14 ⇒ (12) + (6, 6) + 14 = 38
Nice, so one of those 2 d6's is an exploding one, meaning I can roll another d6 on a Natural 6. And she recovers 1 point of Panache on the other Nat 6.
Diplomacy + Extra d6: 1d6 + 38 ⇒ (1) + 38 = 39

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Xol-Nomag nods as she sits back, and sighs. "You make a good point scholars. It is important to study these things. Understanding how they hurt people will serve the Ghost Wolves well. And perhaps in time, everyone in Numeria." She shifts in her seat to look at some of the warriors in the crowd. "Tomorrow the Pathfinders will go to Sulfur Gulch, and as guests of the Ghost Wolves, they will be guarded against foe, Southern or local, flesh or metal. However, none of the relics within is to leave the Gulch. Their people can return to us if they wish to study these things more. Let those Aspis people come here; I have wet my blade with the blood of agents of the "new" Technic league and they bled like the old, and that was boring. Let them come. They will added to my collection of skulls. Now eat, drink, and grab yourselves a partner! Let the gods know of your passing upon this plane" she exclaims with a predatory smile, grabbing her goblet and punctuating her command by draining the entire contents. The celebration continues, well into the night.
The following morning
It is closer to noon than you might like by the time Xol-Nomag's warriors join you, including Jala, who pulls out a wand. "Xol-Nomag has said that you are not allowed to remove anything technological from Sulfur Gulch. But we know that some of you may be coming with technology of their own, taken from other places. Xol-Nomag has no desire to take these from you. I will now detect what technological items you have on your person so as to not take away what belongs to you."
Does anyone want to try and slip tech items away as he does this?

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Correct. Anything not found in your regular fantasy gaming. Anything that you would only be able to purchase off of a tech scenario sheet (6-01,6-02,6-03, etc...)

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Karl steps up first, holding his quiver in one hand and the light sack, that usually hangs from his left shoulder, on the other. He stands beside Jala, and opens both of his containers.
"Please go ahead, I have no technological wonders to hide. Other than my wristsheaths, which are no more than a metal spring." He pulls his sleeves to reveal one in each forearm, underneath the bracers, holding a magic wand in each. He points at the wands and adds "This one helps my arrows do greater damage, and this one protects me from attacks. For those times when the bracers are not enough.
I hope everything is worthy of your approval"

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V shows them his enchanted crossbow and a magnet.
"Those ridiculous hand-cannons they make in the Mana Wastes notwithstanding, most might consider the crossbow a fairly sophisticated feat of engineering...but I hardly think that is the prevailing view around here. Then there's this little thing, which is a most impressive bit of poseur's magic and workaday alchemy, but it's hardly some ancient Numerian secret."

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Holding her hands out to her sides, Amestra comments, "All of my belongings are of normal make or magical. I've nothing to hide."
Am I the only one picturing airport security (TSA for us in the US)?
-Posted with Wayfinder

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@Amnestra, yes defintely!
Kai similarly hands over his belongings and hold up his arms for inspection. "I am fortunate, or unfortunate, to have never encountered any such technological beings or items. In fact, to be honest, my curiosity is very much piqued now."
Just went through my chronicle sheets and just realised that Kai indeed has never played any such scenarios!

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“Grab yourselves a partner! Let the gods know of your passing upon this plane.”
Whatever do we need a partner for this late at night??
Ohhh … I get it! We’re going to play Harrow cards!
“Mighty Chieftain.” Eadie bows to Xol-Nomag. “My companion Amestra and I would be happy to demonstrate our prowess to two of your warriors. I only hope they can keep up with us.”
“Isn’t that right, Amy?”
♠ ♡ ♣ ♢
“All I’ve got is my ioun stones and wayfinder.”
Eadie *shrugs* “I believe the Society reverse-engineered them from ancient Azlanti technology. But the ruins of Azlant are an ocean away from the Sellen Hills.”

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Am I the only one picturing airport security (TSA for us in the US)?
FFS, do NOT get me started.

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"Oh I think that you should demonstrate your prowess to the greatest warrior here. And that would be me. Come with me, you two will show me everything in my hut" she husks with a predatory smile.
***One fade to black later, in the morning that the GM was expounding upon***
Jala, satisfied with his detection, nods to the other Ghost Wolves. "Alright. Let us make our way to the Sulfur Gulch." The journey, apart from perhaps a couple of low key chuckles from some of the Ghost Wolf outriders, is an uneventful affair. Within the span of a day you arrive to a specific portion of an expansive network of wind-swept arroyos. Descending into the natural divot, a lingering chemical smell assaults your senses. Perhaps it would be wise not to spend too much time here, as the otherwise hardy vegetation of the Numerian hill country is nowhere to be found here. Not too far from you, a collapsed cave entrance seems to emit a faint green gas
Wary, the Ghost Wolves spread out and watch their surroundings. From their body language, even they do not like this place very much. But that does not deter our Pathfinders, who cautiously approach.
You are still about 120 feet away from the collapsed entrance.
Back to you!