PFS PBP Gameday VI, GM Ultra Plus's Dead Man's Debt [CORE] (Inactive)

Game Master Will Huston

Available for dotting. We will begin on Gameday.

-.. --- -

Dot!

Hi

.

Greetings all!
(put up my sheet & info' as required)

/./

Khellek sighs and puts away the tome he was reading.
"Another interruption to my studies?" complains the old man.

"Welcome to Nantambu," the golden-eyed women says as she escorts you from the river keel boat through the Wind Song City. It has not been an easy trip. The heat and humidity have been stifling, and progress up the Vanji River has been maddeningly slow. Still, when the Master of Spells tells you to go to a city, a Pathfinder doesn't have much of a choice.

"For those of you whom I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting, I am Aya Allahe. There is much to discuss, but here is not the place. Follow me, please.” A small flash of the wayfinder is all she provides to prove her identity. "Be careful, the Society isn't the only operation here." She leads you through the crowd to an immense stone building decorated with carvings of fierce apes, giants, and reptilian figures. A wooden sign with white paint names this place as "Sharrowsmith's Exports".

Inside, there's little relief from the heat. She pulls a well-hidden switch and the wall slides open and a well-apportioned and, thank-Desna, much cooler lounge appears behind it.

“Welcome to the Nantambu Pathfinder Lodge,” she says, her gesticulations not able to hide the heavy fatigue in her voice. “As you most likely have heard, Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith has recently passed. He leaves behind many loose ends. I’ve done my best to help your Society with the day-to-day problems, but the current task is beyond my capabilities."

“Over the last few weeks, the local Ekujae tribe has become... ” she pauses. “They have become rather violent toward anyone they believe to be connected to Nieford or his Pathfinders. They have waylaid several travelers who fit that description, but have not yet killed any. Instead, they return these victims, beaten and bruised, near well-traveled roads. As I have been the Pathfinders’ only permanent contact in the area lately, these victims have come to me and reported their experiences."

“Mostly they speak of interrogations and threats. The Ekujae claim that Nieford Sharrowsmith owes them a service, and that if he himself will not settle the debt, then his associates will. I have searched what I have of Nieford’s records, but so far? All I have found is a single entry in one of his journals mentioning the Ekujae, although there is no mention of any deal. Given his penchant for secrecy and his rather unfortunate habit of relying upon his own memory, however, I have no doubt there is something he said to the elves to strike a bargain. That the Ekujae were willing to make a deal with him at all speaks to his strength of character. They don't trust outsiders easily, but he was an honorable man.” Allahe pauses, emotion briefly piercing her rather flat demeanor. For a moment, it looks like she might possibly cry.

When she speaks again, her voice is clear and determined. She hands the assembled Pathfinders a detailed map drawn on a scrap of paper. “Nieford drew this map to help him find his way to an Ekujae village. I ask that you follow this map as best you can and make peaceful contact with the Ekujae. If you are not confident of your ability to navigate the jungle, I suggest you hire a guide. There's no shame in that Once you arrive in the village, find out what it is that the Ekujae want, and if it is in your power to do so, fulfill Nieford’s bargain."

"While I doubt the Pathfinders could ever turn the Ekujae into full allies, they are dangerous foes.” Allahe shakes her head, “We don't want to make the same mistake as the Aspsis did and antagonize them.”

Polanco puffs on his cigar as he listens to Aya Allahe speak and describe.

He is geared as something of a blend between a traditional dwarf - heavy armor, big axe.

"I'm just a sword arm, looking to do my part for the study of history. So I have no real survival skills to impart...other than the survival of that auld man over there " he says puffing smoke in the direction of Khellek.

"Sharrowsmith's debt is one that I can pay so I am down for doing my part for a great preserves of culture and artee facts. I am sure he promised it and just didn't report. Poor habit for a venture-captain but eh. These Ekujae don't trust outsiders but they trusted Sharrowsmith enough to pull a stunt like this so like...what's gonna set them off?

A tanned half-elf fans himself with some form of cantrip as he sweats profusely, all the while following Aya and listening to her briefing. He is clad in the resplendent white robes and long gloves of a Kalistocrat, and even the strange blindfold-like cloth covering his eyes is the same dazzling hue. "You are graced by the presence of I, Zephyr," he intones, to no one in particular. "Whatever this mission ends up entailing, I will help you face it with my wealth of knowledge and eldritch might. Granted, wilderness survival is not as much my forte, I find it better to leave such things to hired help, as you've suggested."

"So, we are to meet this tribe, discover what, if anything, Sharrowsmith owed them, and carry it out if possible. Seems straightforward enough, if a bit vague." Zephyr shakes his head, and, in the relative cool of the lounge, retires his spell for a waterskin. "One thing leaves me curious, though. When and what did the Aspis do to draw their ire? If they trusted our man, perhaps they simply were led to dislike theirs. Understandable."

Khellek pants in the heat. His scholars robe is soaked through with sweat and he frantically fans himself with a sheathe of papers - desperate to try and generate some type of movement in the thick air.

"I never thought I'd be wishing for the cool of the north again!" he moans. "What did I do to offend the master of spells to get sent down here?"

Still, his keen ears pick up the hint of a story and in between ineffective swipes at a fly that seems intent on buzzing around his head he does what he does best. He thinks.

"These Ekujae... there must be a bit of history between the departed Sharrowsmith and them. And that is interesting in its own right. "

He wracks his brain for what he knows of the area and its peoples.

And is happy to take ten on knowledge history, geography or other related checks. Take ten results in spoiler bar.

He does offer a short bow to Polanco. "I think master dwarf that your strong arm will be very much appreciated in keeping the beasts of the jungle off my thin skin."

He calls for a cold drink. "What more can you tell us of the people who were attacked? How would the elves have known they were associated with the Society?"

He pants a bit "And what are the risks and terrors we are likely to face in the jungle?"

A blond elf in mithril armour speaks up "You can find all kinds of venomous creatures in the jungle. I would advise stocking up on antitoxins. Dress for the weather it will be hot out there. Other than that I believe Khellek has covered it."
Oh great two bards and Nerisiel the worst at knowledge checks not that she is keen to admit it

She pauses a moment before introducing herself placing a hand to her chest "Nerisiel, teller of tales and singer of songs. I prefer to disarm my foes with words or if that fails I use my whip instead. If they have no weapons" she sighs before adding "Like most things in the jungle, I can distract them with my whip or stab them where it hurts" She pulls out a mithril dagger twirls it around and then replaces it in her sheath

Joining the companions in the heat of the Mwangi is a tall, heavily built half-elf with sun-kissed skin and copper coloured hair tied into a warrior's braid. Due to the heat, his Breastplate is tied to his backpack and the Gladiator of Tymon wears a simple war skirt of leather strips and his high armoured sandals, a thin linen tunic protecting his skin from the unforgiving heat of the Jungle sun. A wicked Ranseur is strapped to his back with a silvered flail on one hip, the other hip having a simple polished steel mask strapped to his belt, engraved with the symbol of a mountain with a sword plunged into it.

Gratefully stepping into the cooler office and dropping his pack into a corner Skilgannon takes a drink of water from his skin, frowning at how warm it is.

"Greetings, I am Skilgannon of Tymon. As that suggests I am a trained Gladiator and a devotee of the Lord in iron." he introduces, his voice deep and powerful. "In battle I allow the rage of Gorum to flow through me. I do have some skill in hunting and surviving in the wilds, yet I am no expert."

I seem to be in a fine group. A fellow scholar is a refreshing sight here, especially given the plethora of muscle to protect us.

"If venom is a problem, disease will likely prove one as well," Zephyr chips in. "I thusly have enough of these-" the half-elf produces several vials of what appear to be liquid chalk, "-to go around. I am led to believe they are in high demand and very low supply. My business contacts, as well as those who I have lent aid to as a Pathfinder, have been so kind as to provide me with as many as I care to pay for. They don't taste good, but should allow you to better resist such ailments."

"Please, everyone take one. An unprepared Pathfinder is more likely a dead one. Although I will expect them back if they go unused. A Kalistocrat cannot let charity outshine business."

I currently have 10 Antiplagues, off of a Chronicle sheet, I'll pass them around to others who may not have them. Also, please tell me if Zephyr is coming off as too brash.

Leaning on his polearm, wearing his battered breastplate and a silly looking flat-topped helmet, Ryan frowns when he hears about antitoxins: "Are we supposed to pay for those? What will the Society give us in regards to per diems, and travelling funds, and food for the voyage?".
He grumbles a bit about overtime never being factored in...

A rather bland looking Human of faint Varisian origins, in his early forties, you might recognize Ryan from his years as Absalom Guard in the Society's Headquarters.
Having never risen above the rank of Private, Ryan was nevertheless promoted to Pathfinder, simply because of his twenty years of service. And he never seems very happy about this. But, as he says: "If I'd left, I'm sure they'd've found a way of reducing my pension".

"Where will we be sleeping? Not in hammocks and such I hope?

First turning to the half elf, Aya Allahe looks rather mournful as she says "The Aspis's business rarely takes into account the prosperity of the local people. The Consortium attempted to force the Ekujae into consenting by taking some Ekujae captive. The Ekujae refused and the Aspsis attempted to capture a little profit by selling these captives into slavery. In response to the Consortium’s activities, the Ekujae elves razed a fortified Consortium outpost called Nightfall Station to the ground"

Turning to face the wizened bard, Aya says "Not all of them were. Some were independent explorers that the Ekujae mistook for Pathfinders, as the unfortunate bastards learned in their interrogations. As you can imagine, they weren't happy when they sought me out here. All the ones I know of have fled the area."

"The jungle has as many threats as it has inhabitants. To be frank, there is just not time or even the knowledge to catalog all its threats. Be careful and on guard. If you run into a horde of monkeys who can speak like men, I suggest running."

As for the grumbling Varisian, "Did your master of spells not provide you with anything? I'm not a true member of your Society, just a humble merchant. I'm only attempting to settle the estate of a dear friend. If you'd like to buy trail rations, I'd be happy to sell them to you. In fact, I also have some sort insect repellent from a local alchemist. In order to cover my costs, it will only cost ten gold pieces. And I'm sure an experienced Pathfinder won't have any issue roughing it in the jungle."

"Yes... sleeping. And the humidity! My books!" bemoans Khellek.

"Still, if one is to get ones face on the front page of a Chronicle. One must endure a degree of discomfort. I swear I will manage it this time. Dr Jones will not continue to outshine me!"

He gratefully receives the antiplague from Zephyr, nodding his thanks to the Kalistocrat.

"Apart from bessie here.." Khellek pats the crossbow at his side, "I have a magical bag that can hold virtually an entire library, along with provisions. There is no reason that we cannot enjoy at least some comforts while enduring this sweat-box."

He pauses, checking that everyone has introduced themselves.

"It would seem that we may want to hire a guide if none of us are familiar with the region."

Ryan looks at Zephyr, and the proffered anti-plague... and takes it, carefully putting it away.
"Well thanks, friend. I'll give it back if I do not use it. Do you need me to sign some receipt?".
Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0
Ryan looks around, thinking that he doesn't know much of anything about this place, but he sure does not like it.

"Well this jungle is far removed from anything like the fair forests of Kyonin. But asking around there are three main tribes of elves here. The Ekujae carry yellow heart clubs when on patrol. Why they can't carry bows like proper elves is beyond me"

Know. nature: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

"The humidity also brings biting insects and long travels as it saps your strength." Skilgannon informs, knowing little about jungles but having studied on the way over here. The Gladiator takes the elf's chalk-like solution with a nod of gratitude and places it in his belt pouch with his Anti-toxin. Considering it, he reaches into his pouch and purchases the insect repellent from Aya, placing the jar in his pack for later application.

"My clothes are light as you can see, but armour can be a burden. Am I able to purchase scrolls to protect against the intense heat from your store? Or from a local sage?" he asks, writing out a promissory note from the Grand Lodge to cover the expense.

If I can, I will purchase six Endure element castings on a scroll for 1 Prestige

"Not only yellow clubs..." adds Khellek.

"Zalamere, in his recent work on these elves lets us know that the Ekujae tribe is divided into several scattered, self-sufficient communities. In times of strife, these groups band together against major threats. Recently, the Ekujae worked together to battle Aspis Consortium slavers operating out of Nightfall Station to the west. Aspis activity has not stopped, however, and rumors of sightings of Aspis agents south of Nantambu persist."

He looks pleased that he had read that particular article.

"I know that we will likely face swarms of insects. Predators too, likely near quicksand, water holes and other natural features. We will be well advised to keep our eyes open!"

He nods to the grumbling Varisian. "I'll take some of that insect repellent."

"Quicksand?!", Ryan lets out with a start, before grumbling to himself: "Enlist, my mother told me, enlist, guard-duty is a good and safe position. And, now, quicksand. Quicksand!".

The Gruff Dwarf, dressed in sort of a foppish Absalomian fashion, with a wide hat and tan cloak dragged over his heavy armor. He thinks a moment Yeah I'll be happy enough to buy some of that repellant off you, us dwarves resist the elements pretty well, but disease is a real killer.

He puffs his cigar as he listens to Khellek rundown the threats presented by the elements and the locals. That's useful information to know. Dem Aspis Agents are well known right pricks but now we know what they've been doing to these people. Kidnappin' people to be slaves from their families is bound to tae make these tribesman right pissed. Just gotta make sure they know we're pathfinders, but I dinnae have my badge of office yet. Hopefully some of you do.

He ribs his fellow guard. Aye Rye-anne, Quicksand is naught but earth gone soft. Ye'll be fine just push up from your haunches, deep down in your octraceps. Keep em clenched and ye'll be fine, still master merchant do you happen to sell anything that's good for getting through quicksand?

"Hmm.. rope is traditional. I should stock up on that too. And better hot-weather clothes. My formal robes will be ruined at this rate."

He does finger a lovely wayfinder at his throat.

"I for one can show membership with the Society. But how obvious we want to be about that I am not too sure.." admits the scholar.

"10 gold pieces? A steal of a price when insects can kill. I'll certainly take some." Zephyr fishes about in his pack and retrieves a small platinum coin to give to Aya. He then looks down to his garments and sighs. "I suppose I should exchange these robes for something more suited to the task. They are expensive, not to mention impractical for the job at hand."

"I wouldn't worry about our wayfinders, Khellek," the half-elf notes, producing his own lacquered compass and putting it back in his bag again. "I think we should keep them out of sight for the most part, in case any enemies are about. When we meet the Ekujae, we'll simply tell them we are here on behalf of the Society, to complete the deal they made with Sharrowsmith. Should they doubt our allegiance, we can show them as proof. Hopefully they will be quick to listen to reason."

"Speaking of insects and swarms... does anyone have the ability to dissipate them?" asks the scholar.

"Bessie here won't do anything other than annoy them."

If only hot weather outfits were CORE...

"I have some Acid with me, that usually melts them." Skilgannon replies to the Historian as they consider their options for Jungle travel. The gladiator was certain he was as prepared as he could be for the quest ahead, as long as he did not sink in sand or was torn apart by angry tribal elves.

"Well, we come to the point where talking will achieve little more here and actions will have to speak for us." Skilgannon states, buckling on his breastplate and gauntlets whilst grabbing his pack. "Aya, which Guide do you suggest?"

"My magic is more suited for single targets, preferably those with functional minds. Like Skillgannon, however, I do carry plenty of splash weapons."

"We do sell fine silken ropes," Aya says to the dwarf, "But I don't know of any alchemical or magical... oh I suppose you might be able to call upon your faction contacts for scrolls of certain spells, but other than that, I do sell rope." I can think of an appropriate Core spell, but it would require some significant gold and fame, or at least some prestige points.

"There's a multitude of possible guides in Nantambu, and I have no particular allegiance to any one of them. They gather in the marketplace."

When the party does make its way to the marketplace, there's at least a dozen who will claim that they can get the party there, but most seem to be charlatans and scam artists. One is a boggard whom you are pretty sure that they would sacrifice the party to their dark lord, so probably don't go with that one.

There's three clear candidates for the job, all humans of Mwangi descent.

A) Kubalu, a drop out of the Magaambya academy. Kubalu has some magical tricks here and there and has good knowledge of the area.

B) Lisratak, tall for a woman at 6'2, this ranger has experience in treating and avoiding the diseases in the area.

C) Mitarat, a simple man dressed in old, dirty clothes, with a pet dire rat, he's clearly a follower of the Green Faith and a druid. He's not the only one to claim that he's met with the Ekujae before, but he's the only one who seems to not be lying about it.

Ryan thinks that Lisratak seems clean, at least, and avoiding jungle rot is a good thing, but he's willing to go with whomever the group chooses.
So long as he does not have to pay.
"How come the Society has not given us a stipend and expenses to cover the hiring of a Guide?".

"The same reason they dumped us here without proper clothing." sighs Khellek.

"I like the look of Mitarat, although that rat of his is a bit off putting. At least he seems truthful, which is pretty important."

He asks around to try and acquire some alchemists fire, or simple acids that might be used against swarms that surely must infest the jungle ahead of the team.

"What more can you tell us of the Ekujae?" he asks Mitrat.

Nerisiel will buy 4 more flasks of acid a coil of silk rope and 3 antitoxins and put them in her handy haversack. She will also pick up 50 cold iron arrows. (205 gp altogether) She will place her daggers, whips and ordinary arrows in the haversack and just carry her bow and cold iron arrows. Making sure that she doesn't drop into medium load

She nods approvingly at Khellek's choice of guide but lets him do the talking

Heading into the Market place with the others, Skilgannon uses his hard stare and large physique to scare off the charlatans before the group are able to settle on three of the better candidates. Whilst all three had merits, having a guide that knew of their quarry was a great asset, especially when they had protections against poison and disease.

"Agree, Mitarat seems to be a good choice, but please scrutinise more."

Nantambu is a large city. You can find what you want to buy with out any trouble. Just tell me what and the final tally of what you spent

Polanco will splurge on an extra length of rope

and then agree to meet with Mitarat None better than a druid for walking through the woods they always say

Ryan shrugs, and accepts the group's vote, but cannot fathom why they want a Guide with bad personal hygiene and a rat, and whose only claim to fame is that he lies better than the rest about meeting the Ekujae.

"I am very sorry Lisratak, that we are not leaving with you. Be safe!".

"Less than savory or sanitary, but I understand the reasoning," Zephyr messages the others. "I, too, would rather have an experienced and honest individual do the job." The half-elf is currently dressed in a plain set of explorer's garb, and looks quite a bit more shabby for it.

Can we tell from the map about how far away the Ekujae are, or is that something we should ask Mitarat?

Khellek eyes up the other's purchases and then spends some time himself, acquiring both additional missiles, as well as clothing and equipment to make the jungle journey a little safer.

"Nerisiel...I cna't help but note you have acquired some cold iron bolts. Are you expecting to encounter the fey?"

He sighs. "I suppose being prepared is the essence of 'adventure'. I should acquire some of them, and some silver and adamantine ones as well."

Unfortunately his purse doesn't seem to extend to the Adamantine.

"I hope to not encounter demons or fey. It is just I never had the strength to draw a bow properly and paying twice the price to make sure the arrows hurt properly should we meet one I do not recognise instead of wasting an arrow that hurts them not seems a fair trade to me"

Mitarat considers his words carefully, taking a full twenty seconds before answering. "They don't talk much," he says finally, "Treat them honest, and don't make sudden moves. They don't like outsiders, and they don't like gossip." You get the sense that this is the most Mitarat has said in a while.

He clears his throat and then says, "There is the matter of my fee. A fair wage is thirty gold pieces. Get you out to the village, and get you back."

Mitarat, after consulting your map with his, says "We're about one hundred miles from this village. The first 80 miles, there's some hunting trails that will speed us up. Though, these aren't roads, it'll take 5 days. The last 20 miles, we'll be in Ekujae lands, the safest route will take two days."

Khellek sighs. "Two weeks in this gods blasted jungle? I might need to buy some spare boots as well."

He reaches into his pouch and rapidly diminishing pool of coins. "So... five gold each. I can pay my share, poor though a scholars stipend is."

"Fine idea, splitting the payment equally. To any newer agents or those who are strapped for funds, I can front your share."

"A hundred miles?" Zephyr repeats, groaning inwardly. Good thing I needn't walk so far, but that's still rather ludicrous. Oh well, I cannot change the situation through complaint.

"Are there riding animals available?" asks Khellek.

"I'd much rather ride that distance than walk it."

Why am I never playing an exchange character when we're getting shaken down for cash

Polanco agrees to pay his fair share and realizes he has not the cash to rent an animal and thus prepares his walking shoes for the long journey.

"It pays to be prepared for an attack at all times. However, I don't need all of my power to ward off such problems, especially with a good team such as this one. I can thusly provide a plane of force on which to sit every so often. We could alternate who gets to ride each time."

I was planning on casting floating disk from time to time (it only lasts four hours) to ease the trip a bit. I could prepare a few more at little loss to my offense. I shouldn't need many 1st-level spell slots while traveling, given that you guys are here too and I have wands and other abilities.

"I am sure the other Guide was a better bargain... anyhow, may I have a receipt? I would like to ask the Society for a refund. Talking about that, some friends and myself think it would be a good idea if us Field-grunts united, coming together in some sort of cohesive group, a union, in order to have more power in requesting changes from the Grand Lodge. Like Death-coverage. We put our lives on the line for the Decemvirate, die for them, but have to fork out for our own Raise Deads. Let us unite, and demand the Society cover that bill!"

Ryan forks over his five gold, counting it out in silver pieces, looking longingly at each one as it changes hands.

Sigh...

"If you want a horse, go ahead and get one, but the horse will be a liability rather than a help. The trails are too small and uneven, and there's some cutback trails on some cliffs so..." Mitarat says, pantomiming with his hands someone falling a great distance.

His flat face flattens even further at Ryan's talk and reticence, "If you don't want Elemion's and my help, feel free to make the trek by yourself."

as a benefit for hiring Minarat, you gain a +2 bonus on diplomacy, sense motive and intimidate checks against the Ekujae for this scenario.

"Also, because you adventurer types always seem to want to pull swords and hit things with them, you should. My self defense strategy is usually running and hiding. If we come into trouble on the road, I'm not a mercenary, I'm a guide."

Polanco, if you want to negotiate the price, you can. I'll need a Diplomacy, Profession (Merchant or Guide) or Survival check as part of it.

Agreeing to the Druid's price as it seems fair, Skilgannon takes five gold coins and adds it to the groups purse, happy to pay his fair share. Without many funds left, the Gladiator decides to keep his current armament. Debating on it, he decides to get his gauntlets and sandals reinforced with thick leather, as well has getting a light moulded leather breastplate, with matching reinforced skirt. The idea of him marching for weeks in the jungle in his steel plate filled him with dread.

"I am ready whenever Master Druid. I will make it my duty to keep you from harm as long as I am able." he says solemnly, holding out his arm for the druid should he wish, though taking no offence if it is avoided.

Ryan looks around, wondering who Elemion is.
"Is he or she included in the price?"