[PFS/Shifty]The Hydras Fang Incident (T4-5) (Inactive)

Game Master Nik B.

After an Andoren village is razed by the Hydra's Fang, a renegade Chelish slaver-ship, outrage threatens the stability of both nations. You and your fellow Pathfinders are sent to capture the Fang before the Inner Sea is pitched into a political frenzy.

Feel free to dot in

You are awoken in the middle of the night by a sharp rap at your door. Opening the door, you find a sleepy-eyed page requesting your presence in Drendle Drang’s quarters. You dress hastily and navigate the halls of the Grand Lodge. As you near Drang’s chamber, snatches of violin music waft from the hall where his quarters are located. Arriving at the door to his chamber, you realise the music is emanating from his room and your knocks go unanswered. Entering his room in ones and twos, Drang ignores his guests until four groggy Pathfinders arrive. Once all four are assembled, he sets the violin down abruptly and strolls over to the fireplace mantle, retrieving a felt slipper and a meerschaum pipe. He withdraws a small pouch from the slipper and opening it, removes some shag tobacco. He begins to pack the pipe with the tobacco before removing a hot poker from the fireplace, touching it to the pipe bowl, and drawing on the pipe until the contents kindle an ember. He stands eyeing the assembled group and puffing on the pipe for a long few moments before speaking.

"Pathfinders, I called you in tonight to discuss a problem I need you to solve". he says as clouds of pipe smoke drift lazily around his head. "Have you ever heard of Darsielle Du Moire? He’s the third son of a wealthy Chelaxian count and a little bastard at that" he says before anyone assembled can answer his question. "He excelled at squandering the family fortune on debauchery and hedonism before this old man gave him the boot. Old man Du Moire gave his son a small sailing vessel and a privateer’s writ and sent him on his way. Well Darsielle took to a privateer’s life like a jackal upon the carcass of a fallen stag". Drandle says as he begins to pace the room. "In a few short seasons, he sank half a dozen pirate ships, as well as one or two Andoren vessels that he claimed were unmarked". Dreng rolls his eyes. Due to tales of his ruthlessness, the infamy of his ship, the Hydra’s Fang, has spread. Then the little bastard sailed in to Westcrown and demanded to be made an admiral". Drandle smiles and shakes his head. "Darsielle’s got a pair on him. I’ll give him that. Anyway, his demands didn’t sit well with the current high-admiral, Astran Thrune. Compounding matters, the Andoran government accused Du Moire of deliberately attacking free Andoren ships. Dubbing his attacks “acts of war,” they threatened to retaliate unless the Chelish government placed a cease and-desist upon the Hydra’s Fang".

Dreng stops pacing long enough to knock some of the ashes out of his pipe and reload it with more tobacco. "Where was I? Oh yes, soon after the Andoren accusations, several of the imperial families called for the privateer’s head. Upon official word of his condemnation, Darsielle fled Westcrown and went on a rampage, foundering ships and looting small towns up and down the Andoren coast. This time, the Andorens responded with a formal declaration of war. Hoping to avoid conflict, the Chelish diplomats promised to permanently rid the Inner Sea of the Hydra’s Fang, provided they stay their attacks. Andoran accepted a temporary treaty, giving Cheliax thirty days to make good on their offer". Drandle smiles again, shaking his head. "Such a little bastard. Well, a fortnight later, Darsielle struck the small Andoren village of Wittleshine, burning it to the ground. He churned the ivory sands to black ash, butchering scores of fishermen and seaweed farmers before dragging off the living in slave chains. Keeping their word, Chelish dragoons attempted to stop him by ambushing him with two battleships just off shore. Chelish rear-admiral Gusarre the Bleak led the dragoons and in a radical maneuver rammed the prow his ship, the Righteous Fury, into the Hydra’s Fang’s hull. Unfortunately, one of Darseille’s men got off a lucky retaliatory shot that struck Gusarre in the throat, pitching the admiral into the angry waters. In the disarray, Darsielle’s men set the Righteous Fury’s sails aflame with a barrage of tarred arrows. Du Moire quickly piloted a narrow escape, while the remaining Chelish ship chose to aid their allies rather than give pursuit—a poor decision, for which her captain was later hanged" Dreng frowns. "Be glad we don’t live in Cheliax"

He stops pacing and stares at the party. "Which brings me to your part in this. With the Hydra’s Fang’s badly damaged hull taking on water, Darsielle desperately sought safe harbor in the one port where he could still pull favors, Diobel. Right here in our home territory". Drandle smiles wickedly. "I need you to go Diobel where you will be contacted by one of agents at a local pub called “The Tails”. He’ll tell you where to find Du Moire. Also we have intelligence that says that Darsielle has some tablets that we’d like to get our hands on, but your contact will explain everything" Dreng gives the party a half-cocked smile "So you better get packing. Any questions?"

dot .

"Yeees, Captain Dreng! So good of you to wake me from my peaceful slumber - again! Captain Malachi Malarkey, at your service once more." The tengu warrior makes a sweeping gesture with his tricorne, and bows extravagantly. "You have a ship for me to captain? A crew? I will take this scurvy dog Du Moire, by Besmara's Bloody Bones!"

A scrawny half-elf wearing a worn shirt, trousers and a cloak rests a beaten up pewter tankard on the table and raises an eyebrow. "Hmm, so even the Chellish authority has decided this ars-"

A high pitched chirp eminates from within the tankard and interrupts the obviously incoming profanity. "Language!"

The half-elf sighs and continues. "Has decided that this privateer has taken things a bit too far... That sure takes a lot. So... no reason to take this guy prisoner I'm guessing? If we catch him we can simply dish out some Pathfinder justice, free the slaves he's taken, then take our bounty from his hold?"

He pauses and thinks for a moment and then smirks. "Or maybe take him alive, then free the slaves, then let the slaves exact justice on Du Moire..."

He stands up and extends his hand towards Malachi. "Searlas Savy, vagabond of Nex, pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"You have a ship for me to captain? A crew? I will take this scurvy dog Du Moire, by Besmara's Bloody Bones!"

The Venture Captain seems on the verge of breaking some bad news, but then gets a gleam in his eye "Indeed I do, the ship is the Hydras Fang, just a small matter of a man being on it still of the opinion he's the captain"

sure takes a lot. So... no reason to take this guy prisoner I'm guessing? If we catch him we can simply dish out some Pathfinder justice, free the slaves he's taken, then take our bounty from his hold?"

"As your conscience dictates. Should he fall at the point of a sword or swinging from a noose at the hands of the authorities or any other fate he meets - I have little concern. The only thing that is certain is that he is not to leave Diobel upright"

"Caw?"

An odd-looking bird, seemingly part parrot and part hawk, and even then not altogether correct, flies in to the room, peers into the tankard on the table, and comes to rest on Malachi's pauldron. "Caw!"

"Yes, Polly, it is early. Still, you know what they say about the early bird, eh?" Malachi scratches the strange bird on the back of its colourful head.

"Yes, Captain Dreng. So how many men does this dog Du Moire have under him? Are they loyal? Is he trying to recruit in Diobel, yes?"

"Maybe a dozen or so, about as loyal as Pirates can be under such a fellow, and he may be recruiting, but that is simple speculation. Our man in Diobel will probably have a better idea"

A shy half-orc joins the group, obviously still groggy and not fully awake, and his eyes nervously shift between the other Pathfinders gathered, as he fidgets uncomfortably. While it's obvious that he is half-orc, his features are much more human like than orc. And while he would be considered large for a human, he is fairly small compared to his orc brethren. He wears a worn breastplate that seems too small for his body, clearly made for a man of normal size. But his most striking features are the numerous tattoos and ritualistic scars that cover his body anywhere you can see exposed skin.

"Ehh, I spent a little time on a ship before in Tian Xia. Not the best time, but not the worst either. If there's a pirate that needs killing though, I'm happy to oblige."

Anything else? If everyone is fine I will move us forward shortly :)

Are we short a PC?

Malachi looks askance at the half-orc.

"Ā, anata wa ryū tei ni tabi shita? Minata ni itta koto ga arimasu ka?"

ETA: profanity filter has butchered the japanese/tien.

He'll be along shortly :)

doticus

Sorry, long day at work. I should also point out that I have run this Scenario before, although it's been a long time. If that is an issue, please let me know and I will step aside and let someone else take my spot with no issues.

Needing his precious sleep, Torrel is last to arrive, his eyes still groggy, his mind still partially asleep. He listens to the briefing, doing his best to stay awake and take notes of key details. After Master Drang finishes with his mission briefing, . . .

"So you better get packing. Any questions?"

"No, I think I understand. We are to capture this Chelish upstart and help nudge Andoran to wipe Cheliax off the map. Retrieve these strange tablets, and ,. . . well, I suppose I do have a question after all. Once the dust has settle, what are we supposed to do with this Mr. Du Moire?

:P

"What are you supposed to do with Du Moire? Whatever it is you normally do with dead bodies" Dreng shrugs his shoulders "whatever it is that wont anger your gods"

"Eh, yeees, I think we are supposed to prevent a war my friend, not start one. Du Moire will die, his body will be given to Besmara, yes."

You can make any adjustments or purchases in Absalom
***

You arrive in Diobel from Absalom at dawn to meet your contact in a pub known as “The Tails”; a dingy, brine-soaked shack covered with swordfish tails located in a rundown section of town called South Reach. There, bitter longshoreman coming off the graveyard shifts pile in and slam rounds of a potent shark-fin liquor, cursing and complaining until they’re drunk enough to be carted home by noon.

The disparaged scene has few prying eyes—the ideal place for Pathfinders to pass along their covert whispers. You enter early in the day, when the small crowd of older men is at its most drunk and rowdy, the revelry within barely contained by the boarded-up windows. You stand out like sore thumbs among the ruddy-faced dockworkers, most of whom have more ginblossoms than teeth.

The crowd immediately heckles you for being up-scalers and gold-thumbers, demanding you spend some of your coin to buy the bar a round, but quickly fall silent when moments later, a dark, cloaked figure rises from the back of the bar. Then, eyes averted, everyone returns to their former conversations. Drawing back his cloak, your contact reveals himself—a man his late forties with obvious Chelaxian features and a faint beard. He introduces himself only as Osprey, then invites you to sit before he finally tells you why the Society dragged you to Diobel.

“We’ve word that the accursed Chelaxian pirate Darsielle Du Moire’s has anchored his much sought ship, the Hydra’s Fang, in the harbor. Everyone’s looking for that bastard. He carries with him some ancient tablets of extreme historical value to our organization. Unknown to most, Wittlestone, the small Andoren town Du Moire razed to the ground, was also home to Myraxus Threeshadows, a noted but aging sage and umber mystic supposedly of ancient Azlanti descent" Osprey shakes his sadly before continuing "Among Myraxus’s possessions he kept ancient forgeries of several tablets used in ancient rites during Old Azlant’s height. When Darsielle destroyed the village, he slew the wizard and took the tablets, hoping to pawn them to one of his buyers in Diobel. The tablets are a priceless archeological treasure, one greatly desired by the Pathfinder Society. In fact, just prior to the Azlanti’s death, we placed several bids to purchase the tablets and so naturally were the first to realize they’d gone missing".

"You must race to get Du Moire and recover the stolen tablets before his pursuers find him or he flees port. If our sources are correct, we’ve learned that he owes a substantial amount of money to one of the Consortium’s more ambitious Enforcers, an importer named Lubor Staizkal. Likely he needs to settle with him at some point. Go to Lubor’s shop on Meldon Lane, near the docks, and see if you can pick up Du Moire’s trail from there, then do whatever you can to get those tablets. May the Gods speed you in this task.”

"Eh, yeees, I think we are supposed to prevent a war my friend, not start one. Du Moire will die, his body will be given to Besmara, yes."

I was just trying to be funny. :p

Korug looks at the tengu with a confused look "Hope you're not talking to me, no idea what you're saying."

At The Tails, Korug happily downs a few ales as they listen to their mysterious contact. He keeps his hand near his weapon and his eyes always scanning the crowd, unsure if the pirate may have friends here. "If we know where his ship is, why don't do just go straight there, why bother with this Lubor?"

Picking up 2 potions of air bubble and 2 scrolls of touch of the sea, 100gp total

"Ah, it is not important. I was hatched in Tian Xia."

Malachi addresses Osprey. "I am Captain Malachi Malarkey! A great personal friend of Trade Prince Aaqir al'Hakam, yes, we dine together often. I am experienced in ship-taking, yes. The Hydra's Fang will be mine. So, eh, this Du Moire dog, what else do we know of him? Does he fight with sword or spell? Is he superstitious perhaps? Eh, and you said Consortium, yes? Aspis Consortium?"

"If we know where his ship is, why don't do just go straight there, why bother with this Lubor?"

"There are a lot of ships out and about in the harbour and out around the wrecks and reefs, you could row around out there trying to find which spot the Fang is in, but if you're spotted they might make a break for it - or worse - you catch a fully crewed fighting ship with a will to fight. On the other hand, catch them at Lubors and it's a smaller land contingent and no ballistae shooting at you"

" So, eh, this Du Moire dog, what else do we know of him? Does he fight with sword or spell? Is he superstitious perhaps? Eh, and you said Consortium, yes? Aspis Consortium?"

"From what we know he's a pirate, that's about it. He hasn't been doing a lot of 'fighting' per se, more just engaging in slaughtering fishermen or having his men involved in boarding parties on soft targets."

"Kortos Consortium, not Aspis. The Kortos Consortium are, as they would claim, just a collection of legitimate merchants and traders. The reality is that they are also involved in smuggling contraband, shady dealings, and growing their political influence. A well organised but crooked group, they are also a serious power here in Diobel and not the sort of people you want to fall on the wrong side of"

Searlas mindlessly translates for Korug. "He asked if you visited Minata."

Slowly he stretches his arms and cracks his joints and back, making himself comfortable in his seat. "Ahhhh... So I suppose we should be prepared for protracted sea travel. And the possibility of being thrown overboard."

I'd like to buy 2 potions of air bubble and 2 potions of touch of the sea. 200 gp total. Also I'll use my bard spell slot for the day to prepare Animate Rope. May help for our voyage.

"Shouldn't be too protracted unless you are planning on tipping him off and having to chase him out into the Inner Sea"

"There is too much chance that he might escape. Sounds as though his ship is fast, and he has a knack for escaping at any cost. No, we need to deal with this menace here. Too much chance that if they get spooked, innocents will be harmed. Of course, simply talking about this might be tipping the crew of the Hydra's Fang off right now. . ."

Sorry, I didn't really get a chance to post much early on.

Torrel is a middle-aged Taldan man. As he approaches, he at first seems to be wearing the full knightly regalia of an Eagle Knight of Andoran, but on closer inspection, to those more familiar with arms and armor, it is clearly only light training armor meant to resemble plate and bring comfort and to those who believe in those ideals. Coming from somewhere beneath his armor is some sort of soft greenish light, though it is mostly concealed at the moment.

The priest doesn't seem to carry any weapons save for a simple sling handing from his belt. On his face is a detailed tattoo of a nude female figure dancing over his right eye, with his closed eye lid becoming a moon backdrop. Hanging from his neck is a similar Holy Symbol, as well as an intricately designed scarf, circling his shoulders and crossing over his chest.

Hanging from the scarf is a sleeping bat, his familiar, Night's Star. Curiously, the tiny beast, partially awakened through a link to the supernatural world wears a miniature riding saddle, much, much too small for anything short of a beetle to ride upon it, and is also wearing what appears to be a tiny replica of a skeleton mask, the same child's toy common to certain holidays.

Taking a few moments to jot down some of the details of Osprey's briefing, "I believe that I am ready to begin when others are. Do you know anything of this enforcer, Lubor Staizkal?"

"Lubor is an average pawnbroker and moneylender, and being in Diobel, almost certainly deals with people of dubious reputation. As long as his interests aren't threatened I am sure he'd be a reasonable fellow"

"Would the Society consider paying off Du Moire’s debt? Not out of the kindness of their heart's, obviously, but perhaps to begin to relieve the tensions a bit, and allow us to get in and deal with things with more finesse and less casualties."

Osprey considers the question for a moment "I suppose it comes dow to how substantial the substantial amount of money is" he continues to think it through and you can see he appreciates the logic "Suppose you just need to get there before Du Moire turns up then"

"I agree, my friend. Let's get going, unless there is anything else anyone needs to do."

Just curious, where is Diobel exactly. Andoran? Korthos Island?

Western edge of Kortos

Korug orders another drink and asks if they have any fish stew "Alright, s'pose we should go talk with this Lubor. Wouldn't mind getting my belly filled first though."

"Eh, here you go my friend!" Malachi tosses Korug a fresh, sweet pear that he produces from his pack. "Finest fruit and vegetables this side of the Steaming Sea, yes! From my own personal supply!"

"Eh, I am ready yes? You can fill your wineskin with the stew, friend. Let's go see Lubor. If he's sensible he'll make a deal with us, yes?"

"Well, I'm sure once we inform Lubor of the gravity of the situation he'll happily tell us what we ask. Especially since we'll be informing him that one way or the other his debtor won't be around to pay up if he doesn't feel like working with us. Either the rat bastard will be paying the ultimate price for his crimes or we'll have f-"

Another high pitched squack covers his speach for a moment. "RAWK!"

"-d up royally and have accidentally chased him out to sea before he gets a chance to meet up with Lubor."

He hoists his rucksack over his shoulder. "Well... I suppose we have little time to waste."

As a note, I have +12 diplomacy and the Enhanced Diplomacy spell for a +2 to that.

"Eh, are you hiding a little friend for Polly in that tankard, yes?"

"Caw?"

"Squeeeeeeeee"

"Caw! Caw!"

Fine, I'll make him an alias too.

The pewter tankard on the table jiggles a bit and a strange looking thrush pops his head out. Climbing onto the lip of the vessel he ruffles his semi-translucent feathers. "RAWK! Not hiding! Napping. And keeping master from saying anything naughty."

"BAH! For the last time I am NOT your master! You are free to fly off and do whatever you -" <squawking interruption> "-y well feel like doing but for SOME reason you INSIST on flying around my head and keeping my tongue in check. That is until I get beaten to high h-" <more squawking> "-l and you decide to nip off for the day."

My bird has the figment template.

You finish your conversation with Osprey over some delicious clam chowder, and he fills you in with more information with the workings of Diobel. He then provides you directions to Lubors in Meldon Lane.

***

Following Ospreys directions, you arrive at the small business in Meldon Lane. A sign over the door reads “Lubor’s Imports.” The door hangs slightly ajar. All is dark within, and eerily silent. As you peer inside, you witness the scene of a recent brawl. Furniture lies smashed and strewn about. Near a closed door at the back of the shop, two bodies slump upon the floor, their blood pooling slowly beneath them.

"Crap!. . ." peaking within. If there is no immediate danger present, Torrel quickly moves in to check the two bodies for signs of life.

Pulling out my Continual Flame necklace if needed.

Heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

If either of them still have any life left, I'll go ahead and Channel Energy to keep them on this side of the proverbial veil. "Perhaps word has already got out?" the priest mutters, looking back at the party, "or perhaps Du Moire just didn't want to be owing anyone and we made it here too late?"

"Either that or someone else is looking for our quarry... If so be on the lookout for traps."

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Two bodies! Don't panic master!"

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26

-Posted with Wayfinder

It looks as though fear is keeping him from approaching but his anger towards the ever goading familiar snaps him quickly into action. "Not.... Your.... Master!"

-Posted with Wayfinder

"That was an expensive chowder for these poor fools, eh?"

Lubor won't be needing this storefront anymore, I'm sure a word in the right ear will acquire this valuable opportunity. At this point I'd like to check a box on my faction card: "identify a valuable business prospect during the course of an adventure", requires a DC19 Profession Merchant check, which I pass by taking 10. On the off chance that Lubor isn't dead yet, perhaps he will want to retire after this terrible experience!

Malachi starts looking for signs of passage or tracks.

survival, tracking, guidance: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 9 + 1 = 13

"Search the ah, bodies, yes?"

While the others are busy setting up play date plans for their furry companions, Korug shows down on more food and ale. Once they arrive at the merchants shop and find the bodies, the half-orc immediately draws his weapon in case there's more trouble. He pokes one of the bodies with the butt of his polearm "Any chance one of these is Lubor?"

-Posted with Wayfinder

All good Malachi :)

The party moves in... the only things of note are the two bodies of the men and the door leading to the east in this otherwise mishmash of an emporium. There is a lot of blood on the floor, Both men came to a violent end and are firmly dead - stabbed repeatedly with light blades. Korug looks at the bodies and notices they both look rather sturdy and wear chain shirts, more likely these were guards.

Hariwini catches the sound of moving boxes and muffled talking on the other side of the door, the door looks very sturdy.

Malachi whispers to his companions: "eh, these dead guys don't look like successful moneylenders. Or successful guards, either. You think Lubor is behind this door, eh? Maybe Polly can take a look."

Malachi and Polly look for any small openings in the wall.

perception, malachi: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21
perception, polly: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31

Polly is tiny and has the aberrant squeezer ability, so she can get through a gap a couple of inches wide.

If we find a suitable entry spot, Polly slips through. She tries to see if there is an altercation going on on the other side, or if it is just one fat merchant trying to hide.

stealth, guidance from malachi: 1d20 + 11 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 11 + 1 = 13

Then she comes back, and gives one caw per person on the other side, louder if there is a fight going on.

The sturdy door doesn't have any inches wide gaps, closer inspection reveals it to be a reinforced and well-built door - obviously the type to be securing the valuable stock behind it...

Based on the noise of things being moved about back there it isn't someone hiding, perhaps a robbery?