PbP GameDay 2: PFS 05-07 Port Godless (5-9)

Game Master SwampTing

Opening gameplay thread for pre-game RP and dotting.

A slim figured tien woman enters the lodge.. Her dark hair flows down over her shoulders and onto her pale skin arms.. Her eyes are strikingly blue and have a very unique look to them..

She quietly moves to a chair and takes a seat..

Already seated is a slim half-elven man dressed in loose and brightly colored layers. He seems entirely dstracted as he peruses some of the provided reading, as half a dozen tomes sit next to him.

A frail woman of advanced age enters the room. She might once have been a red-haired beauty but now her hair is an orange-tinged white, her skin sagging and marred by spots and freckles from too much time in the sun.

She speaks an arcane word and her appearance instantly transforms into that of a beautiful young woman, blonde with black-tipped shoulder-length hair. She wears a well-tailored riding dress, a whip on her belt and bears the triple-dagger holy symbol of the Savoured Sting, Calistria.

She winks at the wizard and nods to the woman, speaking in fluent Tien, "Greetings."

The next to enter the room is a man dressed in an immaculately clean white outfit of Tien-origin under a sturdy black greatcoat belted at the waist. Several clubs hang from his waist, tucked into a red sash wrapped tightly around his waist. He languidly twirls a hooked lance in a slow circle with his right hand as he enters the room whilst carelessly brushing his shoulder-length hair from his face with his left.

Nodding to the gathered occupants of the room with a smile, he props his hooked lance against the wall and takes a seat on a well-cushioned couch nearby.

"Hello all," he says genially in an oddly-unplaceable accent. "Exiel. Pleased to meet you, and glad to know I've not missed the party.

The door opens quickly following Exiel's entrance, and a grim white-haired warrior darkens the doorway. Keen grey eyes set in a time- and care-worn face scan the room quickly. He sees the party and quickly moves to them, a hitch in his stride evidence of some past grievous wound. As he moves closer, it is clear this is an older man, clearly a veteran of many past campaigns. His sartorial style is a blend of worn gear of many nations and city-states, none with any obvious prominence. A thick white-grey braid hangs loosely down his broad back, and a gorgeous orange-veined bow take sup the lion's share of his back.

He reaches the table, a quick smile breaching and then just as quickly subsiding. His touches his helm to the two seated women, nodding. "Ma'am. Ma'am." He then silently nod to the men, looking awkwardly for a seat. "I'm Scrillion. Ya'll are the other Pathfinders?" He waves briefly at the barmaid before seating himself. He smiles, mildly, and waits for his ale, socially defeated.

FYI: You are presently in the city of Manaket, in the godless nation of Rahadoum. The titular "Port Godless" is a city-port named "Azir", the capital of Rahadoum.

You have been summoned to the Swordmeet Lodge in the city of Manaket in Rahadoum by Venture-Captain Obo. Upon reporting to the lodge, a young male servant showed you to a meeting chamber within the lodge. It is furnished with several couches arrayed before a low table. Incense burns in a pair of identical braziers in 2 corners of the room, and the smell of the incense hangs heavy in the air.

The manservant informs you that Venture-Captain Obo will join you shortly (in about 2 days out-of-game). He also tells you that if there is any equipment that you wish the Pathfinder Society to aid you in procuring, you should inform him so that he can arrange for the purchases whilst you wait.

Otherwise, you have the room to yourself until the Venture-Captain arrives.

Nothing much happens as the time passes, and before long Venture-Captain Obo makes his appearance. He nods to all of you as he enters and takes his place before the low table.

“Right, let's get this started then,” he declares as he strokes his graying beard. “I won’t mince words. This mission is of vital importance to the Pathfinders’ success in the Worldwound. The Society has many powerful spellcasters, yet few can compare to the Riftwardens in feats of demon-banishing. That Abyssal scar spawns many demons, and the aid of capable abjurers would be a great boon in our march to Jormurdun, the newly discovered Sky Citadel . When our leaders requested the Riftwardens’ aid, we were denied; too many of their wizards are already committed to Mendev’s cause.”

Obo’s face betrays his chagrin, and he continues. “However, in saying no, they tantalized us with a means of securing their trust and alliance. Several Riftwardens led by Jahani Jodinaj and stationed in Azir were recently preparing for a dangerous task, but they recently stopped responding to magical missives. Were we Pathfinders to investigate these Riftwardens’ disappearance, we would have performed a great service to be repaid in kind."

"Ah,” he notes with some pleasure as two servant carry platters of drinks and fruit into the room, “We have refreshments. May you find them to your pleasure.”

As he begins peeling an orange, he frowns and adds, “We have one potential ally in this investigation, though I doubt he will leap at the chance to help. A contact of mine recently spotted the former Pathfinder Eando Kline in the sook of Azir. He has donned the guise of a copper merchant and likely prefers a degree of anonymity, but he is also a very well-connected man; if anyone knows what ills have befallen the Riftwardens, it is he. Should he not wish to speak, tell him, ‘Sasha Antif-Arah sends her regards—healthy and alive from Andoran.’ Beyond that, be careful, Pathfinders. The sands of Rahadoum are unforgiving, and the Pure Legion is even less so.”

"Any questions?"

"Rahadoum!" She looks around the group for any holy symbols.. "Better hide your diviness if you have any there.."

Knowledge local:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

"Indeed," Exiel mutters as he fishes out his holy symbol. "It's not for nothing that their capital is nicknamed 'Port Godless'..."

"Lucien, perhaps you could be of some assistance,"he continues as he pulls at the lapel of his outfit to reveal a tattoo of a tiny bird. Before your eyes, the tattoo peels itself off Exiel's chest, taking three-dimensional form as it does so. With a flutter of its wings, it flies to Exiel's shoulder and chirps in a...well...chirpy...voice.

"All right, what suicidal task have you got for me this time?" the bird asks in a voice that one familiar with avian mannerisms might identify as almost cavalier.

"Nothing so dramatic," Exiel replies with a bemused grin. "I simply need you to carry my holy symbol for me...discreetly."

As he says that, he ties the cord of his holy symbol around Lucien's neck. With a nod, the bird flies to Exiel's chest, and then into Exiel's chest, taking the form of a tattoo once more, albeit now with Exiel's holy symbol prominently displayed on its breast.

I assume that as with other spells and abilities in which a creature melds into an object, like meld with stone or treestride, items carried by the melding-entity also meld?

"I'm not sure I can share many insights about Azir, but perhaps you, Venture Captain, can furnish us with the latest relevant rumours?"

Scrillion shifts on his bench, uncomfortable at the thought of so much sun. The sun tended to be an annoyance at the very least to those wearing large plates of metal welded to each other all over the wearer's body and he had spent many a long uncomfortable day baking in the hot sun while on watch. Nevertheless, a job is a job. The old campaigner absently scratched the faded car of an old knife wound on his thing.

"Sir, do we have have any idea at all what those Riftwardens were firing up to do before they dropped contact? Might make a difference down the road." A second unpleasant thought occurred to the grizzled archer. Demons. He'd fought every kind of mortal foe, and even spent an unforgettable night holding off a horde of the risen dead, but he had yet to encounter those creatures of evil made manifest. He didn't relish the opportunity. He looked around at the others. Well, at least they seemed equal to the task. He hoped.

I'm happy to have the holy symbol meld with the thrush, but only because I assume it is a relatively small item that it could feasibly carry. But more than 1 will be too much for it to meld with.

Obo nods at Exiel's question, amused by Exiel's unusual method of smuggling his holy symbol.

"Yes, well, Azir is the capitol of Rahadoum. The entire nation upholds the Laws of Man, which make worshipping the gods illegal. The country adopted these laws following decades of religious wars, and although this has driven away the most devout merchants, Rahadoum is nevertheless the home to many influential businesspeople."

"Also, although often referred to as atheists, the people of Rahadoum accept that the gods exist but simply refuse to venerate them, believing that the price of worship is too great. An elite militant organization known as the Pure Legion enforces the ban on religion."

"That said, despite the Pure Legion’s best efforts, there is nevertheless a considerable trade in smuggled religious paraphernalia. Punishment for breaking religious law ranges from a fine for possession of forbidden texts to public humiliation or deportation for proselytizing or displays of divine magic. Needless to say if you fall afoul of this, you will be unable to continue with the mission, whilst the rest of the group will have to try to carry on without you."

"Basically, do NOT get caught breaking the law. By all means use any divine magics at your disposal, but only when and where no one will see it, or at least no one you don't intend to silence."

Venture-Captain Obo is knowledgeable about the city, but even he does not know anything, and with a sufficiently high knowledge local roll, you may know something that even he does not.

To Scrillion, Obo says, "I do not know exactly what the Riftwardens were involved in, except that they were preparing for a raid of some kind. Also, the Riftwardens are an order of arcanists devoted to maintaining the planar boundaries and limiting the interference of outsiders, so wherever they were raiding, you can be sure there would have been demons or devils or some other such extra-planar creatures. Or perhaps an organisation that consorts with such creatures. Jahani will be able to tell you more, or if our concerns turn out to be true, then Kline will be your next best bet."

"Whilst we're on the topic, you should note that Kline was once a Pathfinder, but his philosophies conflicted with those of the Decemvirate and inspired him to leave. It was not a pleasant parting of ways, and I understand the wounds he bears are still raw; if you need to seek him out, be careful not to rub those wounds with salt. I hope at least one of you is good with words..."

As he says this, he hands 1d3 ⇒ 2 Exiel a simple sketch of a handsome Taldan man sporting a short beard.

"This should help you locate the man if need be. On the reverse side, I have included Jahani's address."

"One more thing...my sources inform me that they Legion have been rather...interested...in Kline of late. If you must seek him out, be sure that you are discrete. Do not draw attention to yourself or you may well find your mission jeopardised."

"I have decent skills at making a man talk.." She smiles.. "BUt it does sound like we should be on our way post haste.. Im ready when yall are.."

Knowedge: Local 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

At the entrance of Obo, Ranus perks up and closes his books, setting them aside and instead drawing a notepad, upon which he began taking notes in a flourishing shorthand. He pauses for a moment as the Venture Captain speaks of the Riftwardens, having long considered them masters of their craft and having only respect for them. Chelaxian or not, those that could control and dismiss outsiders were to be honored.

Absently, as he was taking notes, Ranus mentions "Rahadoum.. I've always been curious to visit the place. To shun the gods so harshly.. mm..." he trails off, looking to the side in thought. While his faith in Yuelrael was new, he had spent the better part of his life shying from the divine and applying himself to research. Though expected to pay lip service to Asmodeus as patron of Cheliax, he'd never quite cared for the ruthless law Cheliax imposed. He'd been well enough off, with his patron within the Society, but it was still a sore subject at times.

"What brought Master Kline to leave the Society, if I might ask?", he asked in interest, his moment of melancholy lost.

Aestrid listens with a coy smile touching her lips at the discussion of operating a godless land.

A perfect place for an accomplice of the Savoured Sting to work her magic. A merchant? A milkmaid? A crone? A warrior? No... Best to hide in plain sight.

She speaks a command word and her appearance is instantly transformed to that of a dusky-skinned Vudrani woman wearing a midriff-baring dark blue sari, delicate sandals, elaborate bracelets and baubles about her wrists and neck concealing her buckler, gauntlet and holy symbol. Her backpack is converted to a sling-bag and her whip is concealed by a matching satchel bearing a number of tiny pouches presumably bulging with exotic reagents.

Her disguise complete, she makes a small bow, her hands pressed together in a mocking display of obeisance.

Aestrid, just remember that the spell disguise self does allow a saving throw if a person interacts with your illusory clothing & jewelry.

The very widely-read Ranus already knew all that Obo disclosed, as well as a little detail that the Venture-Captain omitted: Rahadoum has experienced several terrible plagues and other disasters in recent memory, leading some to speculate that the gods are displeased with the
nation. Additionally, while the Pure Legionnaires have a reputation outside of Rahadoum of being merciless hardliners, they are educated, humane, and far from being bloodthirsty killers. They can be reasoned with, so long as their duties are not compromised.

As for what made Kline leave the Society, Obo frowns at the questions and speaks slowly, as if careful to choose the right words. "Kline was always a keen scrutiniser of the bottom-line...especially his own, and had a tendency to take unnecessary risks for his own profit. Also, and perhaps a little ironically, he was also in the eyes of some, overly sentimental where his friends were involved. He disagreed with some of the risks that his friends within the society were asked to face, or not told about, in the course of their duties. A ridiculous notion of course. The business of the society means that we are by nature risk-takers and problem-solvers, and we always do our best to train our recruits to handle the vicissitudes of their missions."

You sense that the latest question has put the usually jovial Venture-Captain a little less jovial.

"I'm not sure there is much more I can tell you about the mission, though I'm still here to take your questions if you have any more. If you have no further questions, finish any preparation you wish to make and report to the city gates. I have arranged for you to travel with a trading caravan, and my servant will accompany you to point them out to you."

"We will do our utmost to be discrete, Venture Captain, and as much as it is within our power, we will ensure that we secure the aid of the Riftwardens," Exiel replies, though he is more than a little ill at ease at being called upon for such subterfuge.

The old archer raises his hand. "One last question, for anyone who has been there. This armor does a decent job or stopping an arrow, but does get beastly hot. I don't want swelling to slow my bow hand. Should I be outfitting for hot weather before we go, or will this suffice?"

"Do not worry about that, Scrillion. The caravan will have provisions for the trip to Azir, and will take care of such necessities as food, drink and protection from the elements. Within Azir, the walls and the many shadows cast by the surrounding will prevent it from getting too uncomfortable in the armor. I would worry more about preparations that will help you in contacting and helping the Riftwardens, but since many of the specifics about this mission will depend on what you discover in Azir itself, you may find it hard to make specific preparations for this mission," Venture Captain Obo declares affably as he reaches for another apple. "You will just have to get there and use your own resourcefulness and ingenuity to resolve matters as best you can."

"In other words, you will need to be Pathfinders."

Still focused on maintaining an adequate deception, Aestrid takes pause, "Say, is it common practice for travelers and caravans to be searched for contraband items on the way into the city? This image will fool a casual inspection in the streets but if there is a more thorough search, it will not suffice."

Venture Captain Obo rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"Unfortunately, all visitors to the city are searched for contraband, which includes religious artifacts, though not in such a thorough fashion that it severely holds up traffic. If the magic you are using will fade upon closer inspection, it may be prudent to adopt a less-fragile disguise."

The caravan will be departing shortly. Make any other inquiries and preparations necessary.

In the interests of moving things along, I will assume that you make whatever preparations you deem necessary, then depart to the gate where you join up with the caravan and travel with it to Azir.

Any preparations you make before leaving Manaket should be described in your next post in the gameplay thread. This can include preparations made or actions taken as the following scene unfolds:

The caravan's passage through from Manaket to Azir is relatively uneventful. It is sizeable enough and sufficiently guarded to keep petty marauders at bay, and nothing much of interests happens. About a day's travel later, the city of Azir looms into view.

The heat of the midday sun accentuates the strange juxtaposition of salty sea air and dry, desert wind, just as the Rahadoumi caravans mingle with sailors from a dozen lands to make the markets of Azir a bustling, cosmopolitan hub of western Garund. The city’s edifices ranges from old constructions rejuvenated with elegant murals and exotic carvings to much newer buildings built with irregular angles and acute corners that combine to create an elegant mosaic of art and architecture. A vibrant soundscape overlays this visual effect, combining the sound of men haggling over baskets of dates, camels bleating in protest to their handlers’ commands, and the chorus of seagulls that soar overhead in search of an easy meal.

You are asked to disembark as the caravan nears the city gates. You see several officials performing routine tasks and inspections as the caravan passes through, though the caravan refuses to take responsibility for the party, describing you as strangers who paid for passage with them, but who are otherwise not affiliated with them. A pair of soldiers dressed in distinctive white cloaks approach you and ask you to declare any religious texts, icons, or other objects that they are bringing into the country.

Scrillion steps out of the caravan as much to stretch his legs as to comply with the guard's inspection. It has been years since he was able to sit for too long without his legs cramping up, so he finds every chance he can to get them moving. Just another thing they don't advertise about surviving past forty. There are days that he wonders if he really was one of the lucky ones in all the military engagements he's been through. At least his fallen comrades never had to suffer the ignominy of having their legs fail out from under them.

The archer steps directly and confidently to the guards, with the nonchalance of one noncommissioned soldier to another. "Hail, men. Scrillion, most recently of Manaket. Nothing religious here." He holds his arms up for inspection, and then opens his pack. "You boys know where I can get salve for my legs? They're cramping pretty bad from the road. In my experience, soldiers on guard duty know more about this kind of thing than most. Standing in one place can be worse than forced marches." The archer surprises himself with his garrulousness. He usually isn't much for talk, but he always feels a kinship with the faceless spear-carrier types. Having spent most of his life as one himself.

Btw, to keep things running smoothly, if you have any religious items, please declare what they are, where they are kept on your person (if you have not already done so) and regardless of where/how they are kept, roll me sleight of hand check or a dex check. Exiel, this includes you.

One of the soldiers nods amicably at the grizzled warrior's words.

"Aye, it's dull work, but it's got to be done," one of them says as he looks into Scrillion's pack and gives him a quick pat-down before waving him through. "There are many would-be apothecaries in the marketplace where you may find salves and balms, though be careful of charlatans. I've found old-man-Jansen to be a rather reliable herbalist and doctor, so maybe you can ask around for him. The marketplace is four or five blocks that way, and you'll see a big plaza to your right."

He'll just be a random NPC expert in the heal skill.

As Scrillion passes through the gates he notices that the soldier is suppressing a chuckle. Poorly. You soon find out why as his companion bursts out in a stern-but-still-somewhat-effeminate voice. "Call me a boy again and I'll kick you in the [redacted] you [censored] old [censored] [censored] [censored]!"

Stifling a surprised outburst as the caravan stops, the oft-distracted mage finds himself having scored a small line in his latest reading material with his, thankfully dry, quill. Carefully removing the quill and closing the Osirioni epic, Ranus turns to gaze out at the glistening of water in the distance, mentally comparing the desert ports to those of Cheliax and Absalom he had frequented in his work for the Society. A fine place, this, so long as you weren't.. his eyes automatically started tracking towards Aestrid, before hastily snapping back to the guards and stepping down from the wagon as Scrillion hefted his pack again. Don't look at her, don't look.. nothing wrong with a wizard in Rahadoum!, the half-elf frantically thought, putting a smile on his face which widened as he looked past the two searchers towards the murals.

"Oh, hello. Ranus Kerschen of Cheliax, your servant.", he offers to the guards, giving a Chelaxian bow, though as he straightened he figured the two may not know the northern mannerisms. Ah well. They weren't to be blamed, they couldn't help it. Though they had excellent craftmenship here, mmm.. Thoroughly forgetting about the guards searching his pack and scroll cases, the half-elf shades his eyes with one hand and attempts to discern the meanings behind each sight. Talgarn the Hero?..no, no, he had an axe. Perhaps the explorer Chulai, the helm seems about right and..

The mage was, once more, completely distracted.

Lilian takes the scenes in as the trip goes.. Making quick notes in a journal she carries from time to time.. She's very quiet and doesn't meet people eye to eye much.. She seems to be quite shy, or so it seems.. She does not speak unless spoken too along the trip..

Spending 2 PP on an Endure Elements wand before setting out..

After further consideration, Aestrid adopts her native, normal form - for all the world looking like nothing but an armour-clad warrior of sorts, a drover perhaps because of the whip resting on her hip.

This time, all is as it appears except her holy symbol, which she wears tight about her throat disguised as a gold braid choker, too narrow to conceal anything. Her "hat" she converts into a simple, slender hairpin.

Use Hat of Disguise to hide holy symbol in plain sight. Take 10 on Disguise for a 27 and she'll try Invisibility if needed.

As the city of Azir looms into view, Exiel calls Lucien forth once more, and using prestidigitation colours his holy symbol to the tone of the skin on his chest. As Lucien takes the form of a tattoo on his chest once more, Exiel proceeds to use prestidigitation to add various lines on his skin near and across the now-skin-coloured holy symbol to further obscure its silhouette.

Disguise the tattoo as a just a random tattoo, using prestidigitation to effect and enhance the disguise. Will cast guidance before performing the task, and then take 10 for 17. I'll leave it to the GM to decide if I get the +5 for changing 'only minor details' or +10 for using magic to 'alter the form' of the disguise.

As the rest of the party walks past the guards, Exiel simply smiles and walks mutely to soldiers with his hands outstretched, inviting them to frisk him.

Well, that looks like everyone.

The guards are remarkably disciplined, peering into every bag and pouch and briefly searching each individual as they pass (the male soldier searching the male travellers and the female soldier searching the females). Ranus and Lillian, having nothing to hide, get through without any trouble.

Aestrid and Exiel, however, are searched almost at the same time by the two guards.

Aestrid, I will let you have the +10 from the disguise-self spell, and also throw in an extra +5 for only changing minor details, but if the guard scores higher than 22, she gets a will save to disbelieve the illusion as I'll take it to mean that her hand brushes past the illusion as she searches you. Based on the discussion thread, it appears that you are not using invisibility yet, so I will roll with that.

Exiel, I'll give you a +2 circumstance bonus for thinking of changing the colour of the symbol itself to match your skin colour, but this concerns the disguise of the tattoo itself: you are not just disguising a minor detail of the tattoo. You're on a 19.

Perception (guard 1 vs Aestrid): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Perception (guard 2 vs Exiel): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Guard 2 looks Exiel over, pats him down, and notices the tattoo on his chest. He scrutinises it for a good few moments, but eventually decides that it is nothing noteworthy.

Guard 1 searches Aestrid remarkably thoroughly, but finds nothing of note, until she asks Aestrid to lift her chin to check for religious items hanging from her neck. She absently reaches out to examine the golden choker a little more closely...

Will save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Oh wow...the dice hate you, Aestrid...

...and her eyes widen as the Aestrid's holy symbol shimmers into view. Immediately her eyes narrow and she grasps at it.

"Oh-ho, what have we here? Attempting to use magic to smuggle a filthy symbol of an even filthier goddess into Azir? Not whilst the Pure Legionnaires are on watch! State your business in Rahadoum! Now!" she demands as she reaches to pull the holy symbol off whatever chain or cord secures it around Aestrid's neck.

What does the rest of the party do?

I feel it only fair to warn you guys that if you handle this situation carelessly, you may well find it hard or downright impossible to proceed with the mission, either personally or as a group. Each player should decide for themselves whether or not they want to get involved, and tread carefully...

Need to know a few things.. How many legion folks are nearby? How many people in general are around us.. How loud is it? Thinking of attempting a spell and wondering its chance at going off undetected..

There are only 2 legionnaires in your immediate vicinity, but the guard house is very close by, likely teeming with guards. Initiating combat here...will not end well. The female legionnaire is reaching for Aestrid's holy symbol. The male legionnaire has waved Exiel in and is now watching Aestrid warily (though he is about 10 ft away from them).

There are alot of people around you. It is crowded - it's the city gates, and caravans are trying to get in. In fact, this little incident is holding up traffic and likely drawing attention.

Assume that the 4 of you (apart from Aestrid) have been waved through and are part of the crowd rather than the centre of attention. But there are alot of people around you, and without some way of casting surreptitiously (e.g. still/silent spell), any spellcasting has a good chance of drawing unwanted attention to yourself (the crowd will roll a perception check, and yes, the module itself provides the city's bystanders with collective perception and sense motive modifiers).

Yea nvm.. I was thinking about charm person but seems not wise..

Well, charming a person may be the right idea. We just can't use magic to go about it. Or if Aestrid wants to try something else, Exiel may be able to distract the other legion-dude. Since he was just searched by legion-dude, legion-dude would be the closest person to chat with casually as a busy-body by-stander. If nothing else, it means legion-dude does not run to get reinforcements.

'Damn it! I hope you have a damned good back-up plan, Aestrid...' Exiel thinks to himself as he walks back to the soldier who had just searched him.

"Wow, rough day for that sucker, huh?" Exiel quips casually as he shakes his head. "This kind of thing happen often?"

Exiel continues to make small talk about the situation to attempt to improve the guard's disposition towards him, or at least distract him.

Diplomacy to improve attitude: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (13) + 15 = 28

If he senses the guard is starting to get on-side, he will also ask "So what happens when someone gets caught pulling a stupid stunt like that?"

Scrillion turns back, watching the drama unfold with Aestrid as its center. The old archer is not much for delicate, face-to-face tasks involving conversation, so he stands somewhat nervously to the side unsure whether to jump in or not. He sidles closer Exiel, hoping he will not have to pull his Mark IV from the clip at his back. He might be a be to take a few guards down, but he certainly couldn't feather a whole city.

"Heh, yeah...you'd think that those religious idiots would know well enough to keep their religious icons out of the capital city of Rahadoum of all places, but no-oo. Every so often we'll get another religious nutter trying to bring in things they aren't supposed to."

The legionnaire appears to be receptive to Exiel's small-talk as a welcome break from the monotony of his job, and hangs back to chat whilst he watches his partner and Aestrid. However, a diplomacy attempt takes a full minute. You'll get your answer to your last question, but probably won't be able to do anything to help the immediate situation whilst you work on befriending that legionnaire.

What does the rest of the party (especially Aestrid) do? Aestrid, are you going to resist the confiscation of your holy symbol?

With sweettalking taking far to long to help the situation and magic not an option Lillian is unable to do anything but watch for now..

Looking stoic and wearing a tan jacket and wide-brimmed hat, a man listens intently. He takes a puff on his cigarette as he says, "Sorry about that. As you can tell, we're not exactly from around here, and some of us may not have been as cautious regarding researching your laws as we should have. My sincerest apologies. I'm certain that my friend here is not going to cause any trouble for you or your men."

Before we left the VC briefing, I would have asked if a wand of CLW would necessarily be prohibited from entry. As I have levels in investigator, which gets alchemist extracts, I could theoretically have crafted it and can use it without the use of divine magic. If that would not be permissible, I will leave the wand at home.

Isaac, hmm...the rules say that "For the sake of simplicity, there is no difference between an arcane and divine scroll or wand in Pathfinder Society Organized play. Thus a bard and cleric may both use the same scroll of cure moderate wounds."

On that basis I can accept that the wand would not be considered a religious item.

Also, welcome! Though the party is in a bit of a pickle at the moment...

Issac Quinn hops off the caravan gets to the front of the line and boldly declares himself a friend of the would-be smuggler!

The legionnaire considers Issac's words, but shakes her head with a bit of a sneer. "Oh? Then maybe you want to explain why she was using magic to hide it? She was clearly trying to avoid detection here!"

Depending on your reply to her question, make me a diplomacy or a bluff check.

Seeing no way out that won't crater the mission, Aestrid goes white as a sheet, unhooks her holy symbol and hands the silver medallion over. "My mother gave me that trinket and I was always quite fond of it."

She tries her best to look remorseful, her voice quivering, "I'm sorry for the deception, sir. I knew it was wrong, but I'm sure you understand me trying to keep a family heirloom. Please don't fault my companions, the mistake was mine."

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

The legionnaire considers Aestrid's words.

sense motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

And completely believes her! And the other guard is too distracted by Exiel to notice (and thus does not make a sense motive check).

"Hmmph...alright, you're clearly not smuggling for profit if you're only carrying one symbol. Heirloom or no, I'll be confiscating that. Just consider yourself lucky it was found out here at the gates instead of within the city. You would also have been fined and flogged. Don't cause any more trouble in the city. Move along now before I change my mind."

Exiel, there's your answer. Take note of what she said, and be careful how you use your holy symbol, or whether you take it out at all!

With the excitement over, Exiel and his new friend also conclude their conversation. He's now friendly, though you find out that he's only a low-level enforcer of the legionnaires. He willingly provides directions to any location you need, though. For the purposes of this scenario, you can assume that you can find any location in the city that you are looking for.

The party is now standing in the streets of Rahadoum. You have a contact name, an address, and an alternative-contact with a sketch. What do you do?

"Perhaps we should wait till after dark to check the address? We're supposed to be being nonchalant right? Perhaps this Kline can get you a replacement holy symbol Aestrid.."

Phew, I'm glad that blew over...though we've lost the benefit of Aestrid's spells. We'll have to do make do with what we have, I suppose. Damn I hate this place...

"I suppose since we have an address to call on, that's where we should head first? To the house of Jahani Jodinaj? I was under the impression that we were being expected."

Scrillion scratches his head, considering. "Well, the address is likely to be one we will have to break into, yes? Since it is daytime, should we instead head to the sook of Azir to see if we can locate this Eando Kline? I would imagine the daytime is best for casing a sook. My impression from the Venture Captain is that this fella is hiding in plain sight."

"Indeed.. A copper merchant wasn't it? Surely there can't be to many of those.. Let's go look for him and try to address after dark?"

Obo’s face betrays his chagrin, and he continues. “However, in saying no, they tantalized us with a means of securing their trust and alliance. Several Riftwardens led by Jahani Jodinaj and stationed in Azir were recently preparing for a dangerous task, but they recently stopped responding to magical missives. Were we Pathfinders to investigate these Riftwardens’ disappearance, we would have performed a great service to be repaid in kind."

Actually, it was the Riftwardens who were asking the Pathfinder Society to investigate what happened to some of their own, so you'd be making a house-call on behalf of their own organisation's HQ. Sorry if that part of the briefing was not clear.

But you are also free to try to find Kline first, if you wish. Alternatively, if you want to save in-game time and think you have enough 'face' characters to pull it off surreptitiously and discreetly, you can try to do both at once. ;)

At the moment it looks like the votes are:
House call: Exiel
Look for Kline: Lillian and Scrillion
Do both at the same time: No one