[PFS] GM Lithrac's Cosmic Captive (#8-00), subtier 10-11 (Inactive)

Game Master Cyril Corbaz

Open for dotting purposes. Introduce your character and roleplay as you see fit before we start.

The Varisian man in the fancy shirt, vest and pants smiles as he looks around. "Another bug hunt, eh? You'd think by now dear Master Shaine would at least offer better food and drink before he sends us out to die. Alas, we'll have to make due with cheap wine and stale pastries. It is our lot in life."

He twirls a staff around his hand, sighing dramatically. "I'm Imbroglio Guarini, known by some without breeding or manners as Vinnie. It amuses them to no end, for some indescribable reason."

A male of average height walks into the room, his skin is darkened from working in the sun. He wears a salt stained tricorn with a jolly roger on the side. He has a few days worth of growth on his face, on the neck is a bright black tattoo of a scorpion. A dark purple coat held shut at the waist by a black belt. A pistol is shoved into the belt, right by a hanging scabbard containing a highly stylized handle sticking out. He puskes his sleeves up revealing his forearms and another jolly roger, this one tattooed on his left right arm.

He looks at the only other person in the room. hmph. Fandral grunts, he then takes off his tricorn and sweeps it out to his side, he than bows down low. In a mocking tone,So honored to be on this adventure with such a prestigious person such as yourself. I will make sure my muddy breeding and lack of manners do not offend you. He lifts his head and smirks at the Varisian.Vinnie

Vinnie smiles back. "So you have heard of me. Excellent. We shall get along just fine."

"Cheap wine? Love that stuff. They never seem to run out of the stuff!"

Another man approaches, tanned from the sun and showing signs of mixed parentage from across Avistan stands tall and broad. His body meant for arena rather than a library. The attire he wears shows no attempt at coordination with one another.

He wears silken armor from Tian Xia with stains of mud, blood, and booze lingering though attempted cleanings. His face shows about as wear and tear, scarred from various battles, but along with a hopeful grin.

"I'm Sielan and looking forward to whatever they are calling us in for today."

A half-orc dressed in chain with a bright red cloak and hat comes sauntering in and takes a brief look at the assembled crowd before stopping at Sielan. A huge grin crosses his face.

"What? Sielan!? HAHAH! Great to see you again!"

He gives him a playful punch to the shoulder. "Last time I saw you time travel was involved... I expect this to be just as outrageous as before!"

He chuckles and looks over at Imbroglio and Fandral again. "My apologies dear friends! My name is Silver Crusader Solomon Goodman, but you can all call me Saul. My job is to make all of you twice as awesome as you already are, even after a few tanks of cheap wine."

He smirks. "After my latest assignment to Cayden's hall... ESPECIALLY after a few tanks of cheap wine. You know I never really realized how much Caydenites and Gorumites have in common. One drinks then brawls, the other brawls then drinks! And we all go home happy... and wake up with a hangover."

I too have visited Cayden's hall in the past. And you speak true, they offered us a pint as soon as we got in and then not 15 seconds later, we were in a scuffle. Almost got kicked out of the place, that would of cost us the mission though. Ah, good time Fandral smirks and then extends his hand towards the half-orc. Fandral Devinwood, Captain of the Dancing Pixie and humble servant to the Exchange.

"Exchange, eh?" Vinnie leans forward and offers Fandral the super secret Exchange handshake.

A comely woman with pale blue skin wanders in and greets everyone with a warm but distant smile - pleasant and professional. Her blue ombre hair is swept back neatly into a tight bun, and her grooming tidy and understated. It doesn't take long to note the telltale scars of a martial life under the concealers and makeup.

She wears stylish yet functional ambassadorial clothing of well-cut silks in the reds and blacks of Cheliax. Her cloak is secured by a brooch pin bearing the insignia of an infernal eye looking out of a swirling portal.

"Svetlana, or if you visited the fighting pits of Magnimar you may have seen me fight as Hellion" she offers by way of introduction.

A look of slight disappointment crosses her face "House wine and yesterday's pastries again? I tee have been to Caydens Hall, a little too disorderly for my liking but there is no disputing they know how to brew."

As she speaks she quietly scans the faces in the room, eyes clearly taking in manners of dress, noting details, clearly appraising. She looks back to Fandral, his tricorne, his tattoos, "Merchantman from Riddleport perhaps?" she offers, then takes a seat, laying on the table a book with a well-worn leather cover, the gold leaf title on the front of the volume has mostly faded and flaked away but the words can still be made out - The Measure and the Chain'. She toys with a shining wayfinder emblazoned with an emblem of a silver dragon absentmindedly as she speaks.

Saul looks over the newcomer cautiously. "Ah but what is disorder but an expression of freedom? A well ordered battle is a rout in progress... The chaos of the struggle is what brings the glory."

Peering at the brooch and book he shows a frown, but peering at the wayfinder he smiles. He looks back and forth a few times and then shrugs. "Nice Wayfinder, where did you get it?"

The Chelaxian looks thoughtful for a moment, considering the words and weighing the merit of them. "I used to think the same way until I saw what became of the chaos. Until I saw that the chaos leads to waste, as resources are not well accounted for or allocated, and as a result, we are left with so many haves and have nots. The chaos leads to an inability to plan a mutual defence, the brave souls who stand to defend themselves and their communities get slaughtered pointlessly by the demons who wait in the dark - the only hope of the outmatched defenders is to be planned and organised - for that way lies might, the strength of the whole greater than the sum of its parts"

"I choose order to ensure an organised society, where the rules are clear and we all know what to expect, where each person has access to justice and is not forced to act like an animal only able to own what they tear from the world with one hand, and in the other hand needing to hold a knife to defend it. Why should the farmer feel that his crop he tended all season can simply be taken by bandits without recourse? No, law and order thank you, I've seen the alternatives. Not much glory in Galt, just a lot of headless bodies."

She looks at the wayfinder "Ollysta. A fine example of what good can be done in the world when one chooses to. An example of choosing order over chaos for the greater good. No shortage of glory there."

"Ah I must concede that the chaos of freedom can only be entrusted to those without malice in their hearts... but when in doubt I'd always rather let people show their true colors of their own accord."

He stops and thinks for a moment. "Wait a second... did you say slaughtered by demons in the dark? Hah! Once I led an army up against the demons of the wound... now THAT was a slaughter! One of the proudest moments of my career as a pathfinder."

He smiles wistfully and pulls out a replica of the Horn of Aroden sized to be used as a warhorn.

"That was the day I found my true calling to the Silver Crusade in fact... I watched my old Taldan allies squabble while Ollysta took action. Not long after that I came back to join her cause."

Sielan throws an arm around Solomon, "I'm hoping for something a little less this time. I'm wanting to make a mark on history, not become a part of history."

He gives a nod to Svetlana but gives only a base examination before moving onto some inner thought.

"I'm gonna have to admit I've heard great things from groups putting their minds to it. Fighting united for justice and all that."

The bulky warrior takes a moment to pause as contemplates his breakfast and starts picking at his teeth. He continues speaking before he finishes. "Still I've heard lots of orders that end up hurting innocent people. I'd just go with my gut on those sort of things rather than give that decision making to a higher up."

"You both got good reasons though, and I promise not to stop on your toes while we protect those in need. Assuming we aren't all here just to rob some Aspi vault."

"What's wrong with robbing an Aspi vault? Those guys are-"

He ends that sentence with an orcish phrase that translates to something best not repeated in mixed company.

"I was there the day that the Master of Spells fell... I'd be happy to go rob an Aspi vault just for fun. Little pleasures."

Thinking back to the Master of Spells, Sielan's mood lowers as he shows doubt and worry before doing his best to shake it off. "I was there that day too. I've got no friends that are still running around with them. I just is harder to call out, For Justice!", he says thrusting his hand into the air, "Now give us everything you have!"

"I'm on board with fighting them to keep others safe. Feel more like a bandit when we are just looking to move relics from their vaults to ours."

"Heh... Nothing to do with justice, just that I'll never turn down an excuse to kick them in the... Erm ... Vulnerables. Call me petty."

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Vengeance. Such a petty motive. There's very little profit in revenge. Now, justice, there can be some profit in that!" Vinnie adds, smiling.

"Ah yes! Justice! Many a wonderful epic have been written about those seeking justice. You should come by my theater one of these days and see just how much profit can be found in that"

He winks and nudges Vinnie in the ribs.

"Well well friends... The hour draws near for another grand adventure! I suppose one last drink and off to meet the bosses?"

"I don't believe in last drinks. Last drinks lead to last stands and I am far too pretty for any of that. Let's simply take a short pause in our revels until they can be take up again, eh?"

Saul chuckles. "With my connections, I think I can afford a last stand. Would make for an OUTRAGEOUS epic... a last stand told from the perspective of the warrior himself, written by AND performed by the warrior himself."

He looks around for a moment then laughs loudly. "Hah! Don't worry, I'm no death seeker, just prepared to turn misfortune into opportunity. That's your line is it not?"

"Speaking of drinks, I understand that my way of dealing with things can be very direct, whereas other people would prefer to take more indirect approaches or parley for lengthy periods. I won't interrupt negotiations, but if you get to a point that you ever believe that violence or the need for violence is imminent, simply utter the phrase 'I sure could use some Chelish Ale' and look at the person to whom the violence needs to occur and then step back whilst I break their jaw"

The Chelish agent goes back to her book.

"Good to know friend Svetlana" Saul says, unintentionally butchering the pronunciation of her name. "Generally when a parley goes a direction other than my direction, I use a key phrase to let the party know as well. Usually I say 'Diplomacy has failed! Charge!' but your more discrete approach has it's merits. I shall consider it. Or maybe a compromise? 'Diplomacy has failed! I could sure use some Chelish Ale!' Or 'I could sure use some Chelish Ale! Charge!' Hmm... I shall think on it."

Vinnie nods. "I fear our chances if we have to battle a Chelish Ale golem."

"Do they have those? That would be a waste of ale." Sielan scratches at his chin thoughtfully on this, but doesn't even consider the comment as a jest.

"Hmm, I wonder if a very powerful cleric could possibly develop a much more powerful variant of the 'enhance water' spell and use it on a water elemental. An Ale elemental would certainly make for a very interesting creature..."

"My dear Solomon, some damn Caydenite has probably tried it and we'll probably be called in to stop its murderous yet intoxicating rampage. Just wait a week."

"The warning will be when we hear of the thing being exhibited in the famous Blakros Museum, that is usually the sign Pathfinders will be called shortly to deal with the latest display"

A young woman strides into the room, completely unfazed by her lateness. Her outfit has much in common with the standard Iomedaean cassock. However, the yellow trim has been replaced with a more ostentatious gilding, the skirt only goes to the knee and is pleated, and the arms are sleeveless. Her leather opera gloves and thigh-high boots match the same style. Most of her wavy golden blonde hair is back in a ponytail held by at least half-a-dozen ad hoc ties, but a few loose locks frame her face.

Two engraved tomes hang from belt cords on her right, and a longsword modeled after Iomedae's holy symbol hangs in a ruby-encrusted scabbard on her left. Her spring-loaded wrist sheaths are the same ivory and gold color as her gloves. Eleven wands, one for each of Iomedae's Acts, are sheathed in her belt, each engraved in raised letters with a single word such as "Honor" or "Purity" on it.

She waves at everyone with a dainty hand.

"Hello, darlings! My apologies for my tardiness. I sometimes just get so caught up in praying to My Beloved Inheritor that I simply lose track of time!"

"Ah! Welcome friend! Grabbing one more round of drinks before we head off for the briefing. Better drink fast! I'd hate to be sober if Drandle is giving the briefing..."

Avelina takes a seat and crosses her legs. She waves off the talk of drinks.

"I would not think of any such thing! It would simply not be proper for a Lady of Faith such as myself to indulge in such...indulgences."

Avelina pulls one of her tomes from her belt onto the table and flips it open.

"In fact, wouldn't you all love to hear some stories about the Glorious, Beautiful, Divine Inheritor? They shall steel your hearts for battle!"

It's a Book of War Prayers from the ACG. If you listen for 10 minutes, it gives you a +2 morale bonus on the first save vs a fear effect you make during the day

The sound of book to table draws the warrior's attention. "I'd love to hear it. I always love hearing stories of the great heroes from way back when."

"Why not eh? Any about crushing demonic hordes? Those are my favourite" The Chelish agen smiles as he puts down her own tome.

"Ooh! Story time! I love a good story... in fact you should come to my theater some time. I perform there when I'm not on assignment with the society. Did I mention that I once led an army against the forces of the wound? I wrote an epic poem about that day... I call it The Day I Led an Army Against the Wound. It's 3 hours long and is performed once a month at my theater."

In response to Svetlana's question, Avelina taps a finger on her chin as she thinks to herself. "This story in particular concerns fighting undead. I shall take your request to heart though, for my next reading!"

Avelina's face beams at Solomon's description of his play. "I would love to see your play! I shall have to see if Auntie has time to visit as well."

Avelina claps her hands together and clears her throat.

"Now, on to the story! Today, I shall teach you of Iomedae's Fifth Act, which St. Septima of Drezen identifies as the Lesson of Persistence."

Avelina flips open the tome and picks out the desired page with practiced ease.

"At the Battle of Three Sorrows, during the Shining Crusade's war against Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, the Tyrant himself dealt the Crusaders a grievous blow. He slew Arazni, Aroden's herald, and threw her corpse before the Crusaders."

Her face takes on a grave expression.

"Iomedae was a paladin of Arazni. Imagine for a moment, your Goddess's corpse thrown to your feet. Imagine for a moment, the despair as the Woman you have aligned your Eternal Soul with is broken and bloodied. Imagine for a moment that Her killer stands before you, his armies at his back. Imagine for a moment feeling as though all the evils of the world stand against you."

Avelina begins to tear up.

"Iomedae felt all of this, and more, for it is impossible to do justice to such a moment with these few meagre words. I tell you all this so that you may understand the context of this truth: even with all this weight upon Her, Iomedae did not stand down. She shed her tears, but she did not break. She did not forget Her Heart, even at the sight of the worst conceivable despair a paladin may confront. Instead of a retreat, she ordered a charge. Unprepared for such a swift response, the Tyrant let Erum-Hel, the Lord of Mohrgs receive the charge. With a resounding cleave of her blade, Heart's Edge, Iomedae smote him with such force that the general collapsed in an instant, only holding onto his profane existence due to the Tyrant's intervention. The rest of Erum-Hel's followers melted under a Righteous Tide, their black blood incinerated before it could even hit the ground and taint it with its evil. The Tyrant, always cautious, pulled out from the battle with his forces, knowing that a canny commander must respect the tides of battle."

Avelina can barely contain a grin as she continues reading.

"Here, we come to the Lesson. For Persistence is the ability to press on even when all the world stands against you. Persistence stole the Tyrant's triumph from him and gave it to the Righteous. When Evil attempts to show you despair, persist. Shed your tears, and fight."

Sielan's grin doesn't go away, but it does become more somber as the Svetlana speaks of Iomedae's turmoil. Closing he eyes he lets the conjure the image of the mortal who had not yet ascended to godhood.

"I can't say it was the happiest story, but the strongest heroes come in the darkest days. Clear as day why you'd follow her. Thank you for sharing the story. Wish I could tell it half as well as you did."

"She would have made a fine Hellknight. Great tale though!" Svetlana adds encouragingly.

Vinnie smiles. "I like your story-telling. Can't say I'm much for religion, but if that's your thing, I'm not against it. I'm no Rahadoumi. "

The woman in the red mask was quiet. She had been watching all the teams, taking note of each one on her clipboard as they filed in.

Would they be ready for what lay ahead? She had no idea. Whatever happened though, she knew it would be out of this world.

____
Overseer GM Hmm, checking in. Players, feel free to continue to introduce yourselves to each other in Absalom in character. We start June 9th, and I'd love for everyone to be ready to go before then.

.

"Hah! Yes! A wonderful story! I do believe I have read several partial accounts of the war against the whispering tyrant in a hidden Lionblade library. They seem rather protective of their history."

He smiles and stands tall. "Well well friends, it looks as though the top brass wishes us to assemble for our mission briefing."

He pounds back his remaining ale, and lets out a rather loud belch. "Last time the society gathered so many of us we were sent back through time to fight the serpent horde. Lets see if they can top that one!"

★ - OVERSEER ANNOUNCEMENT - ★

5. 4. 3. 2. 1. BLASTOFF!

The Society's Master of Spells, Sorrina Westyr, looks up with approval upon the 30 foot platform the society is erecting around the base of the Spire of Nex. Her slate-gray skin seems to blend into the stonework behind her, but her manner is lively. She grins as she addresses the unkempt beggar beside her. ”See, Drandle, we were ready in time. You owe me a beer.”

The old Venture Captain titters. “Heh. You’re not away from the spire yet. We’ll see.”

“So we will.” Sorrina nods, then waves at the assembling crowd. “Pathfinders—welcome and well timed. Please, make your ways to the designated safe areas quickly and carefully, and please mind the wards. Try to keep the paths clear, as we have some very delicate equipment coming through. I have some amazing discoveries to share in just a few more moments.”

Meanwhile in the crowd, the aura of excitement continues to build. Rumors are flying everywhere as Pathfinders ask each other, “What’s this all about?”

BEGIN PART ONE.

Avelina preens at the positive reaction to her little sermon.

"How lovely to finally have a team of Righteous Hearts for company! I am very much looking forward to this...whatever it is now."

As if on-cue, the Society's leaders call the teams to their areas. Avelina lovingly closes her tome and hooks the clasp and stands up.

"Well now! Whatever we are doing is starting. May the Glory of the Inheritor travel with us today!"

She strides off towards the assigned place with light, joyous steps, a proud grin on her face.

Starlight brightens the grassy plain surrounding the immense Spire of Nex. Overhead, a comet lazily streaks across the night sky. Heavily armed patrols guard the perimeter, and the shadow of great wings occasionally blots out the stars. Sharp flashes of amethyst light, quick shouts, and chanting briefly periodically rise above the waiting crowd's chatter as spellcasters hurriedly construct and maintain crackling wards. These efforts revolve around a thirty-foot-tall upright gleaming metal ring constructed at the Spire's base.

You might hear rumors of the Society's latest activities related to this gathering.

Diplomacy (Gather Information). One roll: open all spoilers that apply.

- - -

You might know the significance of the Spire of Nex and what it might be used for.

Knowledge (Arcana) or Knowledge (History). One roll: open all spoilers that apply.

- - -

You might know more about the new comet in the sky.

Knowledge (Geography) or Profession (Astronomer). One roll: open all spoilers that apply.

A tall elven man approaches your group. He is followed by a youngster dragging a small cart in which you see stacks of small rucksacks. You notice other people moving around the group that are also followed by an adolescent with a cart.

"Well met, I have been tasked by the Venture officers to provide magical assistance on your trip outside of Golarion's atmosphere and into a low-gravity environment."

He waits for a moment to let the news sink in.

"Yes, the comet! I won't be joining you there. But I can protect you from environmental temperature extremes, the vacuum of space, and damage dealt by radioactivity. I wouldn't plan on leaving Golarion without it!"

"It lasts for the better part of the day and I can cast it on each of you. The faction leaders have agreed that together they will pay for the costs. Of course they will find a way to make you pay for it in the end, but you first need to survive on the comet..."

He reaches into his spell component pouch "So, what do you say? Who wants it?"

I strongly advise you to make use of the spell. This special spell will cost you 1 prestige point and lasts 11 hours in-game time, starting in act 2 (which starts tomorrow)

Later the elf takes one of the small sacks from the youngster "In addition, the Society has put together caches of supplies to help Pathfinders trapped in hostile conditions make it back in one piece." He hands over the rucksack.

Each PC receives two pouches of air crystals, a potion of endure elements, and one snapleaf.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (5) + 21 = 26

"Beware of agents bearing gifts, says wise man."

I will spend the 1 prestige for the spell.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 30 ⇒ (14) + 30 = 44 Add +8 if it's about humans
Knowledge (history) concerning humans: 1d20 + 4 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 8 = 13

Avelina perks up, like a teacher's pet who has just been asked a question.

"Oh! I've heard that the Society has been conferring with the elves of Kyonin and copying maps, even piecing together and shipping an aiudura--that's an elf gate, if you didn't know. The society should have Numerian technology to help navigate in airless environments, too. I'm quite glad they followed my suggestion after that nastiness in the Red Redoubt."

@GM Avelina will also spend 1 prestige on the spell. Which spell is it? Do we have time to purchase additional scrolls of it, or at least some extra air crystals?

Saul meanders around a bit, chatting with the assembled guests, looking more and more confused as time goes on.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (6) + 21 = 27
Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12
Knowledge (Geography): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

"Hmm, seems like this mission has something to do with that new light in the night sky. The one all of the fortunetellers have been yammering on about. Turns out its a comet... passed Akiton recently and is on it's way past Golarion now. Apparently it has coincided with the openings of these gateways."

He scratches his chin as he slowly puts the pieces together. "Well, the archmage Nex built this spire, so obviously this is an undertaking that requires the most potent of magics to facilitate..."

His train of thought is interrupted by the elven man peddling his wares.

"Hello and well met chap! I'm sure I can handle myself in harsh envir-"

He stops suddenly and goes bug-eyed.

"...did you say the vacuum of space?"

He begins to put this statement together with his knowledge of the comet. "We're going to space?!"

A HUGE grin crosses his face from ear to ear and he leaps into the air with a fist raised high. "OUTRAGEOUS!"

He turns to Sielan and grabs him by the shoulders. "WE'RE GOING TO SPACE!"

He turns back to the elf. "I'll take it!"

Spending the 1 pp

"Hah! A comet! This is going to be a blast!"

The spell is planetary adaptation. You can buy scrolls if you like as there are vendors here, though you'd need to own the source book it appears in (People of the Stars).

Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (1) + 16 = 17

"Nex planted that hear and had to leave it when he ran with his tail between his legs. More magic went into that is in my little finger though."

Sielan claps Soloman on the shoulder as he tries to get a good view of the night sky. Hedraws a weathered and beaten book from his bags and pages through it looking for some answer, but shakes his head as he finds none.

"The mages are gonna have a good laugh on this one. Next time they try to sell me on air pocket spells I'll need to pay them more mind. Still, I'll be much more glad to be up there than in the library."

"I'll be glad for your magic, I'm not wanting to test where I can and cannot breathe. Hell, I'll even grab a scroll of that. Rather not have Captains and Masters yelling at me about being unprepared."

Will spend the 1 PP and purchase the scroll of planetary adaptation.

"Any of you been up there? Society has kept my feet planted on the ground up til now." He laughs hiding a trace of nervousness. "Hopefully they don't try to change that and make me stick down here!

Saul runs off into the crowds with excitement. "I'm going to write a new play about this! I'll call it... The Time I Went To Space. Yes! We're going to SPACE!!!!"