[PFS]GM Dennis - #3-23 The Goblinblood Dead (closed) (Inactive)

Game Master Dennis Muldoon

"Hello! I'm Eugressia. I apologize if I forget your names; I'm not the best at remembering things. I'll make sure you stay safe and sound, though!"

Again,the winds are more active around the sylph than around anyone else.

After things have settled down a bit, Oiur sits and makes sure they're ready for whatever may come. They pull a dark-bladed dagger from a sheath fastened high on their chest. They test its edge against the back of their thumb, and smile when fine hairs peel away at the blade's caress. Their soft breath scatters the threads into the grass.

After a beat, they look over at Eugressia. "How does one acquire a personal breeze, anyway?"

"Oh, it's a sylph thing, I suppose. I listen to the winds, and they listen to me. Observe."

She moves away from Oiur and whispers to the winds. They hear a soft voice in their ear, murmurring, "The winds carry messages for me. They also help me to notice lies."

Wind-Carried Voices, extraordinary ability that functions as message.

She moves back to converse normally. "They also protect me, though I hope that won't need a demonstration."

Breeze-Kissed provides a +2 bonus to AC against non-magical ranged attacks.

"So, I'm to understand we's gonna be walkin' aside the caravan, is that correct? An' about how long's it to our destination? I ask just outta curiosity, not 'cause I ain't accustomed to walkin' or anythin'," Rowdy adds with a grin.

Just get some rope; Ib'll pull a cart for you, Rowdy. The bird pauses. He might pull you off a cliff if you're not careful, but at least you won't be walking.

Rowdy's grin widens.

"Whilst I appreciate the offer there Irp, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I can't have people sayin' The Honey Badger's afraid a walkin' a few miles, especially when I ain't. An' besides, I don't wanna impose none on our buddy Ibb here. I'm sure he's got better things to be doin'. An' I don't mean golfbin either, I mean watchin' out for trouble an' the like."

Rowdy turns to Kazrin and Jandri. "An' we is just talkin' about a few miles, right?"

Oiur smiles at Eugressia's display, then hums a clear tone and taps the knuckles of their right hand twice against their sternum. The charcoal lines of their throat tattoo vibrate for a moment, and their voice sounds softly next to Eugressia's ear. Casting message.

"The wind sounds helpful! Slightly more subtle than my method, too."

They repeat the same sounds and motions, this time directing the spell towards Rowdy. They form their ventriloquism into high pitched, growling words.

"Don't walk too far, longshanks—it toughens up your meat!"

They hold up and inspect the dagger's blade to hide a mischievous smile.

Rowdy's hand quickly goes to his gun.

"You all hear that?"

But soon realizing there are no real goblins in sight, and that Oiur is looking a little too innocent, Rowdy says, "Very funny. Hope that gave ya a good laugh. An' lucky for them there ain't any goblins around, 'cause I am all badger and no honey right now."

Oiur struggles to contain themself as Rowdy's face goes from wide-eyed surprise, to knit-browed suspicion, to an accusatory frown directed squarely at them. When he speaks, Oiur explodes in a brief peal of laughter.

"You should have seen your face!" They sheath the dagger and begin unfastening the earth breaker on their back. They chuckle. "Come now, Badger, you'll be sweet again soon enough!"

They take the big hammer in hand, testing its weight, before leaning its head against their shoulder to investigate where the wooden haft meets metal.

Pondering Eugressia's wind affinity, Oiur realizes something they might have (tangentially) in common with the sylph.

"You know, sometimes I hear words in flames. Bonfires, lanterns, things like that. It doesn't happen often, but I swear it's true." They chew on the inside of their lip pensively. "They haven't said much, but I think I remember..."

They clear their throat, then emit a string of crackling percussive syllables, ending in a long hiss.

"Why, yes! That is Ignan, the language of the Plane of Fire. Perhaps you have some ifrits in your family tree?"

Oiur looks over their shoulder at Ibb. "That's a metaphorical tree, so you don't have to worry about it catching fire and my family being hurt. The Storval Plateau is mostly rocks anyways. She just means I might have an ifrit ancestor."

"Maybe I do, at that. Once I earn a real name and can return, maybe I'll find out." Their gaze wanders, and a cloud seems to pass over their face as they're lost briefly in thought.

Their melancholy passes quickly, though, and they turn back to Eugressia. "Ignan. Plane of Fire. Hmm! Have you been there? It's hard to imagine anyone living in such a place."

Eugressia closes her eyes and tries to remember.

"I'm really not sure. Maybe I have," she responds to Oiur, while absent-mindedly rubbing an old burn on her forearm.

”A few days walk” Jandri says, not turning around from the horse. After a few more moments of preparation she adds ”time to go”, climbs aboard the wagon and shakes the reigns to set off..

Jandri and Alik say little throughout the day, only speaking when they need to issue an order. Kazrin more than makes up for his companions’ somberness, though, telling numerous jokes and the occasional Varisian legend as the caravan winds through the woods. Camon says little too, but is at least approachable, unlike Jandri.

There is evidence of the war everywhere—discarded and rusted armor and weaponry, numerous displaced trebuchet-hurled boulders, and occasionally the remains of a hunter’s trap, only recently triggered by an unfortunate forest animal. Even in the light of day, the blackened trunks of the Chitterwood trees, still bearing the scars of the great fire that marked the end of the Goblinblood Wars, loom menacingly over the narrow forest path. Eventually, the thud and crash of boulders launched from Logas can no longer be heard. Even the sun struggles to penetrate through the canopy at times, leaving dark pools of shadow stretched across the path.

As you approach the end of the day, Kazrin tells you that you’ll soon reach the first campsight.

Also, please describe to me where you are walking, relative to the wagon (5ft in front, 10ft behind, along the right side, etc.)

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 15+1 to detect lies
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 7

Eugressia walks along the left side of the caravan. She uses the winds to whisper messages to her companions.

"Kazoo...Kazrin is quite nervous, despite his jokes and stories. Camel..I mean, Camon, is nervous too, but happy about his freedom."

Ibb walks 10' in front of the wagon, nodachi on his shoulder, looking for golfblins.

He ponders the mysterious and rocky Stor-val P-lanes throughout the day, wondering if he might also be part Ifrit; after all, Irp always said he has rocks for brains…

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Hey Irp, who messed with those those dirt piles ahead? Gophers on my golfblin course?

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

nat 20, then a nat 1 :)

Eh? Looks normal to me, but that's never stopped you before. Nothing for it: in the immortal words of Jean Paul Satyr, 'Au revoir, gopher'.

On hearing that Camon is nervous, Rowdy walks along side the caravan near the halfling (The right side?). He keeps his eyes peeled for any trouble.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Not speaking to anyone in particular, but hoping Camon overhears, Rowdy says,"I ain't talked about this much, but when I first gained my freedom, it felt too good to be true, like too delicate a thing to believe in, an' I wasted so much time lookin' over my shoulder for someone about to take it all away again. But let me tell ya, that ain't livin' free; that's beein' a slave to yer fears. I decided then that I was gonna live a free man or I was gonna die a free man. There weren't gonna be no in between for The Honey Badger. An' I ain't about stand around an' let someone else get stuck in between either."

Ouir has been talking with Eugressia, so is walking alongside her.

Daemons are the evil outsiders most closely associated with specific manners of mortal death, right? So I'm sure Jean Paul Satyr would assert "Abaddon is other people."

Also out and about at the moment, can write more later but feel free to move things along!

Oiur perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

As Ibb, acting as vanguard, approaches within 10ft of the disturbed dirt a skeleton bursts out and attacks him! Its claws, though, are unable to penetrate his armor, harmlessly scratching across his shoulder.

claw, flat-footed: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Something looks off about it, as if it's not a human skeleton.

Surprise Round!

Know(Religion): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

That's no gopher.

Ibb will power attack the skeleton with his Nodachi.

mwk nocachi +7 / power attack -1: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

Oh Waah!? Not-Gopher!

Damage(slashing): 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

Also 5 foot step to the right if possible (I moved Ibb on the map).

Ibb has bludgeoning weapons but will need to be told if the enemy has DR.

Oiur's melancholy returns as the group continues to travel through a forest marred by loss and destruction. They're shaken out of somber reverie by Ibb's investigation of the strange pile—Is that a grave?—and the ensuing explosion of earth and animated bones.

They spring to action and pull their weapon off their shoulder.They shout, "Golf, Ibb! Use your club!"

The earth pushes against Eugressia's feet when the flat top of Oiur's hammer slams into the ground. Something else pushes against the company's spirits. A low, flat, bracing drone fills ears and forest alike; a dirge to mourn the violence wrought on Isger, and a call to visit still more.

The hair on Oiur's neck stands on end, and the muscles of their thin, strong arms tense with each rise and fall of the hammer. They are focused and ready.

Standard: Start raging song (inspired rage) any who hear can accept

Depending on timing/ruling and his acceptance, that might also give Ibb +1 on the attack roll and either +1 or +2 to damage. Assuming it survives an 18–DR hit, yeesh!

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

I usually rule things like timing there in the player's favor. I don't think you should be penalized just because Ibb posted first. As you said, though, it doesn't matter.

Ibb has the wrong weapon in his hand. He swings recklassly. It doesn't matter. His nodachi passes through the skeletal beast with eave, scattering bones about the field and causing the skull to land in a hollow stump on the fly.

Another skeleton (this one looks human) staggers out of the forest to the north and takes a swipe at Oiur with a clawlike hand.
claw: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Alik stands by the back of the wagon, weapon at the ready, and hisses at Camon "Hide!

Round 1:

Rowdy steps up, drawing Serena from her holster, and fires a ray of positive energy at the more human looking skeleton.

Move, draw, cast Disrupt Undead.

Arcane Gun: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16 vs touch
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

"If it ain't goblins or bandits, then a course it's gonna be undead!"

Rowdy's beam strikes the skeleton true, leaving a gaping hole through the middle of it. The skeleton raises an arm to continue attacking before losing structural integrity and falling to pieces at Oiur's feet.

Another skeleton comes crashing out of the bushes to the south, twigs and leaves remaining entwined about its bones and joints. It moves forward and swipes at Kazrin leaving a bloody gash across his face!
claw: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Round 1:

Eugressia moves forward. Okay, it's just some skeletons; don't lose control of yourself.

She stares at the skeleton attacking Kazrin, and a rock at her feet hurls itself at the creature's feet.

telekinetic projectile, ranged attack into melee: 1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (1) + 3 - 4 = 0
damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4 bludgeoning

Oiur shifts their weight as the skeleton approaches, pulling back so that the brunt of its clawed force is spent on the rough hide of their armor. Before they can lift the earth breaker in retaliation, there's a small explosion behind them, and a beam of light deconstructs the skeleton before their eyes. The ray's blazing after-image momentarily obscures their view of Ibb.

Their chest still resonates with anchoring sound and measured breath.

Eugressia causes a rock to clatter harmlessly into the wagon's wheel.

Another skeleton rattles its way out of the woods, swiping at Rowdy.
claw: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

"Ahhh!" Kazrin recoils in fear at the skeleton attacking him, then regains control, drawing his sword and striking at the skeleton.
longsword: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
His blow causes the skeleton to fall to pieces before him; he stares at his sword in momentary disbelief.

Round 1:

Oiur's hammer pounds the ground in time with their steps. The twin rhythms help them parse the sounds of combat, pained cries and crumbling bones. They see the bright red of Kazrin's blood on his shocked face when the longsword shatters his assailant, its vines and dust returning to the earth.

They pass in front of Eugressia to stand besides Rowdy, lifting the hammer in case Ibb's own powerful blow cannot fell the skeleton before them. Their song is constant.

Move Action x2: head up to the green skellington.

Free action: drop nodachi and accept Oiur's song

Move action: Circle around to flank with Rowdy, pulling the Heavy Flail. (Does Rowdy threaten with a gun, though? Does he have a cestus or anything?)

Power Attack Heavy Flail +6 -1 Power Attack +1 Raging Song: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Damage (Bludgeoning): 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

FOOOOOOOOORE!

Sadly he does not threaten with the gun and he does not have a cestus. That's a good idea though.

If Ibb’s last blow was a well-placed chip shot, this time he broke out the driver. The body of the skeleton clatters to pieces as the skull goes arcing off over the nearby trees and out of sight! Out of combat.

As quiet returns to the forest you have a moment to examine the skeletons.

Oiur's hammer thuds against the forest floor one last time, cutting off their song. They bend to investigate the tattered remnants of the skeletons' prior station.

"Mercenaries? Former ones, at least. Can't say much more—were they just grist for the Goblinblood War mill, or something else?"

They wince as adrenaline leaves their system and makes way for the pain in their ribs. They inspect their armor, probing the furrows left by bony fingers. Not nearly as bad as others, though. They stand, stow their hammer, and pull a dark red stone rod from their belt pouch. They mover over to Kazrin.

"You landed a good blow, especially given the one you'd just taken." Oiur traces a finger down their cheek, mirroring his wound. "Here, let me help." They hold up the wand, now shining with inner light. Cure light wounds, if he accepts: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

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

Eugressia begins to drone in a monotonous tone. "The Mercenary League helped turn the tide in several of the Chitterwood battles, indicating the importance of hired personnel to supplement national troops, particularly when dealing with disparate factions as in the Goblinblood Wars. Though the Chitterwood remains decimated..." She shakes herself, as though waking up. "Sorry about that. Oh. Did you see those tracks? Do you think that's where they came from? I think there was a major battle around there somewhere."

Knowledge (Local):: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

"I don't know much about these skeletons, but one thing I do know: if you want someone to hide then you need to be a little less obvious than hissin' hide at 'em. An' yes, I'm lookin' at you Alik. Are you trying to alert everyone in the danmed Chitterwood?"

Rowdy holds up a hand as if to stop any counter arguments before they start.

"Now, I ain't sayin' your intentions were wrong, 'cause they weren't. An' obviously, I want Camon to be safe as much as anybody else, if not more. What I'm sayin' is we need us a code word, like, blueberry pancakes. Or some kinda secret call or somethin'. I'm open to suggestions."

Also, Rowdy will wand himself up.

Wand of Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

And he's back to full health!

Ibb will offer a charge of his wand to get Kazrin back to full health (he might still be down a couple points even after Oiur's ministrations)

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Ibb stands near Kazrin above the skeleton's corpse, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, lining up a drive with his flail. Irp nervously dances about on the man's bald head.

At the very apex of his swing Ibb turns and looks at Rowdy — Grist and pancakes!? Breakfast for dinner!? Yay!

He swings; pieces of skull clatter through the woods. When the follow-through almost takes his head off Irp leaps, shrieking, into the air.

He admires his shot and whispers, fore.

An occipital bone bounces merrily down the tracks.

From atop the wagon Irp head darts around, looking at all approaches from the forest.

If those skeletons originated nearby, perhaps it would be wise to investigate before camping for the night. That, or we travel a good distance from here before resting.

For future reference, I'm fine with average rolls on wands out of combat, if you'd rather not roll.

Alik gives Rowdy an icy glare, but offers no rebuttal. Camon, for his part, pokes his head out of the wagon and says "Are they gone? I was worried at first, I thought they were Chelish agents." Turning to Alik he says "Thank you so much for defending me. I think, though, that they may be right about some sort of code word."

Kazrin snaps out of his shell-shocked glare as you approach to heal him, and says "Thanks, that was really starting to hurt. Funny, I thought for sure that thing had missed me. I was terrified, but I didn't feel any pain until after I destroyed it.

"I get that you want to investigate these things, and I think that's great, but I have to insist that you accompany us to the camping spot first. It's only about a half-hour from here, and we can defend ourselves well enough there. Once we're set up you could come back and investigate, or if you'd rather you could do it in the morning."

Once you get to the campsite it will be after sunset. You need to decide whether you want to return and track the source of the skeletons tonight, or do it in the morning.

Rowdy takes Alik's glare in stride. With a smile, he says to Camon, "Some people just don't understand the importance a secrecy. I"m glad to hear you agree at least. I'ma vote for code word pancakes. Ain't no one gonna figure that one out."

Rowdy certainly agrees to accompany the caravan to the campsite. He's torn though on whether to head back tonight or in the morning.

He looks at Kazrin skeptically. "How can we be sure you can defend yourselves? You did alright with that sword I guess, but it might take more than that, and then what are you all gonna do?"

Did I fail a check to notice skeleton tracks?

Oiur nods along with Rowdy and Kazrin's conversation. "I imagine there are more robust defenses at this site? It's your route, and you're all more familiar with traveling it. Head to the site, I say, but..."

They turn towards Ibb. The big man shields his eyes with the shelf of a meaty palm, absolutely unnecessary given the canopy's shade, and peers outwards to determine his swing's success. Oiur pats him on the shoulder.

"... we are quite discreet. But in this case," Oiur says, looking at the small shape atop the wagon, "maybe Irp can bring their particular discretion to bear? They're small, hard to notice, and I'm sure they can stay out of reach of any undead. They could scout a ways down the path before joining us at the camp site. Depending on what they find, we can decide whether to act tonight or pancake 'til morning?"

They smile. "A good code word, Badger. And a good shot earlier—one might even call it sweet!"

Also, average die rolls!? Pancakes, Dennis, the RAWers are coming! :p

The skeleton tracks were in the tougher knowledge spoiler. It's odd how this scenario does things. If no one had gotten that, I would have had you roll survival.

"We have some more defenses, but they only work if we're stationary. I'm confident we can defend ourselves if we're at the camp site."

Irp cannot make the knowledge check to spot the tracks at this level; he was listening to Eugressia talk, though. He would be happy to scout but might not be able to make the survival DC with only a +2!

Survival: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

Now that you've spotted the tracks, and given that Eugressia knows something about where the battle was, they're pretty easy to follow. Skeletons aren't exactly subtle.

Following the tracks from above is relatively easy for Irp, flitting through the trees. They can move more quickly than someone on foot, and shortly come upon a small graveyard in a forest clearing, the smell of recently-turned earth providing just one indication of freshly disturbed graves. Irp sees nothing moving except a lone, elderly wolf, sniffing around looking for something to eat.

So, now you have an idea of what you'll find. Are you going to return here tonight after you get to the camp site, or wait until morning?

Oiur listens attentively to Irp's account.
"Seems like it will be a quick enough matter to search the site; I see no danger in returning this evening. If the wolf hasn't moved on by the time we get there, I can weave the sounds of prey to try and draw it away. I should be able to get close enough if I stay upwind."
"Tongue and cheek comments aside, though, I'm not the stealthiest." They eye Rowdy. "Maybe someone else is?"

I vote come back tonight, and I'll cast ghost sound if there's still predators about.

Mmmmm. Remember how good the wolf stew was in the snowy place we went to?

Ibb votes we go tonight!

Rowdy furrows his brows the mention of the wolf.
"Oh, I can sneak up on some wolf, don't you worry about that. But what I wanna know is why there always gotta be a wolf snoopin' around in the first place? Last time we delt with a wolf, Eugressia nearly got froze to death. An' maybe you all ain't aware, but skeletons don't just decide, of their own accord, to come crawlin' outta the ground. I ain't no genius when it comes to necromancy, but there's gotta be someone or something that's bringing these dead back. I don't like it'"

He grins and says, "But obviously I think we need to be goin' tonight. We don't wanna give whatever's goin' on out there any more time to do it's thing."