PbP FS-3: A Vision of Betrayal (Inactive)

Game Master Deane Beman

Feeling that since it is a shrine to a fallen adventuress, and therefore not against her religion to pay tribute to her, she drops a gold coin in the shrine as did Amnur. She mutters a brief and silent prayer to Sarenrae, and aloud thanks Lady Kayle for watching over the pass. Then she climbs down again and slips back into her place in the marching order.

I call up, "would anyone like to do a sketch? What does it represent?"

"It's a shrine to the Lady Kayle, a great adventuress who sacrificed herself so her party could defeat a powerful dragon."

My eyes shine and I make a note of the name, determined to look her up when I get back to Absalom, "Thankyou, Lore! That's fantastic!"

Now that's a real adventurer!

As you make your way down the mountain pass thick blobs of fog begin to dance in between large thickets as the foul stench of swamp gas pollutes the air. Several exotic species of vines twist along the vapor-shrouded path, creating an ethereal seeming tangle. At random intervals, a splash of fetid water sounds in the distance, signaling the presence of frogs or other bog creatures.

A large log rests across a dirt path, standing five feet tall. A moldering wood door covers one of the hollow ends of the log, and a makeshift mud chimney emits a thin wisp of blue smoke. From behind the crude house comes the sound of someone humming an off-key tune.

Lauranna stopped and gazed at the log house. "This is quite...interesting, I'd say. What manner of tiny being makes its home in such a place? And on the path, to boot?"

Wait is it 'The' path? Or 'A' path?

As they descend into the swampy lands, Amnurs mood steadily declines. His face becomes flush and sweaty, and the gnats seem determined to make his prodigious beard their nesting place. Very early on he'd removed his cold weather gear, but his heavy armor warms up quite nicely in the swelter.

Later, he draws up next to Lauranna to examine the large log home. He looks up towards her face at the comment, "Oi! I'm the type of tiny being that could fit into a house like that! I'd rather eat my ears than live here, of course, but ya best watch yer comments about the normal sized folks around here, ya dern giant-spawn!" He harumphs loudly, swipes at a renewed gnat attack, and hollers at the home. "Hullo the house!"

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 7

"Oh, you could squeeze in there, to be sure, but I doubt you'd be comfortable for long. As I understand it, dwarves aren't exactly known for cramming themselves into wooden tubes just barely big enough around for their shoulders."

The log is on the path. I'll post a map once I get a few more Perception rolls...as Amnur is apparently wearing a blindfold! I'm not certain he is even aware of the path...much less the log! LOL

Amnur harrumphs again, but quieter this time, "Well, someone's gotta speak up for the little folks! Tiny indeed." He gives Lauranna a squinty-eyed look full of insincere malice and turns back to the house and the path... wherever they are.

Hey, when you're tiny it's hard to see stuff... I'm just sayin.

"Well I think it's just adorable, and there's nothing wrong with being little!" Lore moves a little closer and examines the place.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

"I'm not sure I want to go inside, but I definitely want to see inside."

I peer around the exterior first.

perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

As Lore gets closer to the log, she notices a reptillian creature tending to a patch of green-flowered thistles near her fallen log house, and busily hunches over each plant,speaking to them as if she were praising a small child for good behavior, occasionally humming a little song to herself as she tends to her garden.

As the group begins to approach her Mylvwara raises her hand in caution, calling your attention to a crocodile partially submerged in the bog at the edge of the garden.

"Why hello there! I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude but we are travelers in these parts and are surprised to find a house in the middle of the road. Your house and garden are charming. Do you mind if we pass by?"

When Mylvwara signals, Lore notices the crocodile and shocked, she pauses and looks to see if perhaps the gardener is in danger as well and shouts a warning to her.

"Look out! There's a large critter hiding in the bog there!"

The creature looks startled as the group approaches..but Lore's approach seems to put her at ease as evidenced by the smile returning to her face. She begins pointing to her plants and flowers and prattles on about...

...you're not sure; as its a language you don't understand. Mylvwara, however recognizes it as Draconic; marking the creature as a Kobold.

She makes no aggressive moves toward the party.

"Lets not linger here too long less she become spooked. Pier's End is not far...I'd like to be there by nightfall so we can get an early start tomorrow."

The spoiler's not working for some reason. PM me the contents.

I'm glad it's not just me!

It's like a trick spoiler!

Amnur glowers as they're introduced to the being, but it doesn't seem to hostile. Pity he thinks to himself. Having the croc pointed out to him, Amnurs hand falls to his weapon, but he doesn't draw.

"Aye, lets be off from this place." he says, eyes never leaving the crocodile.

"Um, Lore, step away from the kobold, carefully."

I shake my head and begin to walk a broad path away from the crocodile and the kobold, "If you could understand what it says..."

As the group carefully skirts around the kobold, she continues to sing and fawn over her flowers. Once out of her eyesight it's as if you were never there.

A completely avoidable combat; yet this is the only time I've ever seen this encounter not end with a dead kobold....kudos!

The sleepy fishing village of Pier's End offers a warm inn, a hot meal, and hopefully a means to travel to the Isle of Erran. After some asking about you hear of three captains capable of ferrying you to Escadar. Darice Sumore is a surly-looking young woman, but if her sea-weathered face were softened, she could be considered pretty. Small Otti is a fat halfling who constantly states that his plump stature helps with buoyancy at sea. Finally, Crazy Old Tanner is a disheveled, fish-smelling, and wild-eyed man who constantly talks out the side of his mouth while blowing thick gouts of grey smoke from an aromatic pipe. He is fit to yelling at the sea, accusing it of being an unfaithful mistress and talking about how things were better when he was much younger.

Who do you want to approach first? Good role play and high Diplomacy rolls will likely get you good service at a great price!

Orion looms at the bar, drinking himself into a reasonable stupor. So many deaths...

He is prone to go with the last sea voyager, suspecting that he is the most likely to have booze on board.

Amnur approaches Darice Sumore with a swagger and his friend-winning smile. "Hullo there madame, I be Amnur Roanock, and my friends and I're tryin to get to Escadar. We already know you're the best-looking captain available but word around here is you're the best one to do the job." If possible he smiles even bigger. Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 6 Perfect

Lauranna, having taken to following Amnur and trying to ameliorate his ...personality issues... spoke up quietly, but firmly. "I believe my stout companion is trying to flatter you, in his own, very special way. Please, take note of his intent, and not his words. I am Lauranna Stormblessed, Champion of Iomedae. My companions and I are indeed looking for passage to Escadar. You come highly recommended. Are you and your crew available for such a trip?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"Quite a motley group you have here. I can take the lot of you across for 35 gold pieces."

"Hmm...6 gold apiece seems a little steep. Not unreasonable, of course, especially for a boat captain who knows the seas well, and a pilot who can guarantee avoiding the reefs around the area. Would you be willing to go for 4? That, plus a tip puts it around 25 gold. A decent sum for such a short trip, and while there are several of us, we mostly," Lauaranna glanced at Amnur with a small grin,"behave ourselves in company. in fact, you can almost guarantee that we would be the best passengers you ever had aboard your vessel. Especially if trouble arises."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Sense motive to make sure we aren't being bilked 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Amnur gets a small inkling feeling that he's being referenced somehow... but isn't quite sure. "It's true, we kick trouble straight in the crotch!" and kicks a nearby chair over (hopefully unoccupied) to emphasize his point.

Eager to assist Lauranna, I call out to Amnur, "Amnur! If you would be so kind? This man wants to hear Torag's views of the licentiousness of anthropomorphic personifications. Would you, please, please, enlighten us?"

I turn back to the fisherman I had been asking for directions, "I'm sorry, I was discombobulated by my dwarven friend; where did you say we could meet this Tanner fellow?"

Keeping to herself after the trek through the cold, Shilyn brushes back the hair from her face and taps her lip with a long slender finger. After a moment's thought, the words come flowing in rapid succession..

"Thirty-five gold is quite a bit. However since I don't weigh much and, speaking of which, neither do Lore, nor Mylv and since Lauranna is nigh my size, that leaves four of us that do not strain your ship nor your stores. Therefore, I do believe that twenty should suffice for the wear on your ship. Don't you think so? I thought you would, it's a pleasure to do business with you. Amnur, please give the lady her twenty gold would you? Thanks."

bluff + fast talker trait: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 6 + 1 = 26

Amnur, who had been prepping to give another demonstration of what they did to trouble, was leaning his axe against his hip, had spit into his hands and was eyeballing the downed chair with a calculating eye. At Mylvwaras' request he shrugs and moves to set the poor man straight, but before he gets there Shilyn made her request. He stops and makes a quick reversal, counting out coins as he approaches the captain. Ending back in front of her where he started he holds the 20 gold coins out invitingly, "Look! Shiny!" He even bites one of them to prove the purity of the metal, a trail of saliva connecting the quality gold coin and his bearded mouth.

"35 gold pieces...take it or take another boat. Typical fast-talking Pathfinders."

Meanwhile, Mylvwara seeks out Crazy Old Tanner. She listens to no small number of fantastic, and likely untrue, stories about his life while trying to dodge the puffs of smoke he blows in her direction. "Thirty five will getcha all across safe and sound!"

I'm not buying anything from a man called 'Crazy Old' that I can get elsewhere. I'm just there for the stories.

I start making notes, "Really, you say the devilfish was how big?"

"As big as my arm twice over...with a handlebar mustache and a patch over one eye!"

Mylvwara gets the impression that, not only is Tanner's story a lie, but that Old Tanner may not be as crazy as he pretends to be.

With a sigh, Shilyn counts out the other fifteen gold pieces and mutters under her breath. "You do realize, this will cut into my profit margin.."

"So what kind of ports are there, on the other side?" Orion asks with a slight slur.

I would imagine that there are inns and... Taverns on the other side...

"As big as my arm twice over...with a handlebar mustache and a patch over one eye!"

** spoiler omitted **

Mylvwara gets the impression that, not only is Tanner's story a lie, but that Old Tanner may not be as crazy as he pretends to be.

"So, how long have you been sailing these waters? I suppose you know this region pretty well?"

sense motive, if needed: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
diplomacy, if needed: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

"I've been sailing these waters since before you we're born...and yet I'm half your age! Ha! Tell ya what young lass...you seem like pleasant company. I can go as low as 25 gold pieces...but not a copper less."

To Orion he says "Plenty of inns and taverns on the other side...where there's a port for sailors there's bound to be a place for them to drink."

"Crazy Tanner? Just head down to the docks and look for the disheveled fellow talking to himself in some strange tongues."

I grin, "I like you Tanner, I'll see what my friends say."

I give Tanner a gracious smile and return to the inn.

"Hello there, I think I've got us a boat with an experienced sailor; 25 gold."

Amnur looks up excitedly, his voice nearly bellowing, "25!? That's much cheaper than that sea-witch demanded! Nice going Mylvwara." The dwarf takes a swig of the drink he'd acquired to kill the time while the others searched for passage.

"Yep. And I don't think he's as crazy as they say."

Crazy Old Tanner's vessel makes for smooth yet entertaining sailing and you're actually sorry to see him go as you arrive in Escadar. Nestor informs you that the gillmen have agreed to meet you at a waterside tavern called the Grindylow's Goblet.

The sounds of a busy tavern echo off the wooden walls of this unusual building. Resting precariously over Escadar's harbor, the Grindylow's Goblet offers an unequaled view of the water. In the bar's center, a thick glass aquarium presents a striking display. Within the tank, a coral statue of a goblin with the lower body of an octopus hosts a school of colorful fish that flit about the nooks and crannies of its tentacles.

Two human servers busily provide food and drink to the tavern's half-dozen patrons, and a striking woman tends the bar. After you've had a chance to settle in for a bit, the gillman party arrives. Smaller and more low-key than the party the Pathfinder Society sent, the gillman contingent consists of only two Low Azlanti, a man and a woman. The male bears a delicately wrapped bundle of cloth, apparently around the Azlanti relic, while the woman acts as bodyguard. The gillmen greet the you and the man carrying the bundle introduces himself as Shoalo; the other, a muscular female gillman named Ahrmisa, remains silent and stoic. Shoalo sits down at a table and places his package before them, offering the seat opposite him to Nester Rees. Ahrmisa stands behind him, eyeing the rest of the party suspiciously. Shoalo invites you to place your item on the table for inspection and offers his as well. He takes only a cursory glance at the Pathfinders' offering before accepting it as the real deal.

Anyone with the Appraise skill is free to check the item for authenticity.

I do not have.

Orion sticks near the group, longing to get this over so he can go to the bar. It has been hours since he had a drink...

Untrained help?

Well that looks weird... Orion says trying to be helpful.

Help: 1d20 ⇒ 8

"How interesting."

appraise: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

I smile, turn to Shilyn, point at some of the scenery and say in a light tone:

Then I turn back to the table and notice a detail on the pathfinder's offering, "Oh, how pretty! I never noticed!"

I pick it up to examine the exciting feature and just happen to keep it in my hands.

Amnur looks at the items on the table, and at Orions and Mylvwaras' statements, "Is it interesting? Looks like a... What is it?" His dwarven features are screwed up in a perplexed grimace as he contemplates the oddities before them.

After spending a majority of the voyage feeding the fish what lunch she was not able to keep down, Shilyn is glad for the landfall, even if the tavern does appear a bit odd to her.

Finding a seat, she casually hooks the end of her rapier with her heel, moving it out of the way as she sits and orders a glass of wine and something to eat.

Enjoying the non-sway of the tavern, she falls on her food as if starved, only to be interrupted as the two gillmen approach. With a shrug, she continues to eat, seemingly paying no attention as words are passed along with the items. She listens intently to Mylv and attempts to keep her face neutral as she takes another bite.

"Interesting piece of art," she says around a mouthful of food which she quickly washes down with a sip of wine. "Where'd you find it?"

Not speaking Elven, Lore has no ide what's going on exactly. She does look at the artifact closely, but really has no idea what she's looking for.

appraise, untrained: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

She looks to the expert for his reaction to the artifact and waits for him to respond.

Shoalo looks nervous as Mylvwara reclaims the Pathfinder's artifact...stopping just short of lunging toward it. As Mylvwara and Shoalo discuss the forgery in Elvish tongue, Nestor Rees and Lore come to their own assumption about the authenticity of the gillman's offering.

Suddenly a class breaks from behind the bar and both Shaolo and Ahrmisa cover their eyes. A blinding explosion envelopes the room.