PbP GameDay 3: PFS #5-99 Paths we Choose (3-4) (Inactive)

Game Master -Karma-

if anyone could get the best price, it was Miro. Lort begrudgingly allows Cyrus to part with his money, vowing internally to chip in later.

"Iara would be welcome to try out all competitions I have in my shrine of Kurgess," says Lort with obviously false friendliness, "Wrestling, melee, archery... and my favorite new addition: the grave robber toss. Installed just this night."

Miro snorts in amusement at the latest addition to Lort's Games. The rather overt threat wouldn't be lost on the woman, but was a bit over the top, likely. Still, if anyone was going to be robbing tombs, it was going to be Pathfinders, damn it all!

Iara counts the coins Cyrus gave him, and looks thoughtful. "Oh well, I guess this might cover my probable losses. Save your threats, I'll tell you all I know: I got the amulet and similar items from a man called Vonraig. After he sold me the amulet, I hired a few urchins to shadow him to the source. They saw him purchasing bright green chalk and slipping into sewers below the Petal District. A while later he emerged with a small bag that jingled like coins."

The peddler draws a crude map of the Sewer entrance location. "Now, unless you are actually going to buy something, am I free to go?"

"I see no reason to detain you further," snorts Lort, "We've got more than enough to go on for now. Consider yourself lucky. A less scrupulous group might decide to thrash you now and take their money back."

When the peddler has scurried off, Lort addresses the group, "Seems relatively simple. We head to that location, follow the green chalk and find the grave. Then we send back for some Osirions and we reconsecrate the site."

Always one to oversimplify, Lort grins, hefts his blade and makes ready to go.

"The sewers below the Petal District. Methinks the s&&% will not smell like ... roses. Why always must I crawl through .... filth for this society?"

Looking at the departing peddler, he thinks how awful a life one must have to crawl through excrement for a few extra gold pieces.

"Hmmmm...maybe it won't be so bad, right?" The halfling's cheerful demeanor has all but evaporated, but he heads for the sewer anyway. Who knew, it might be their greatest adventure after all?

"Hey, Lort. We may not need an Osirion for that. I mean, what am I, chopped liver?"

'Damn. Some chopped liver on rye would actually be pretty good right now. With some strong onions and horseradish?' It becomes apparent that the Caydenite is distracted in thought, until he starts talking again.

"So, the sewers, eh? I think I'll leave my little buddy back at my apartment for this. Don't want him playing with more poo than he usually does. Stupid monkey.

"I think we'll be just the sort to go take care of this tomb... unrobbing. Though it just doesn't seem right. Miro, you got that Prestidigitation spell, right? I am guessing we'll be needing it!"

'Maybe I should pick up a bandana, just in case. And some gloves.'

"The sewers can't be that bad, right?" Cyrus chuckles uncomfortably as the group uses the map to make their way to the entrance.

"I wonder. Its likely easier to justify grave robbing when the artifacts are being used by the society to advance knowledge through study and museums. The poor sod who has been pilfering through this tomb is just looking to make some quick coin. I'm not sure that actually justifies it, but the motives behind what the society does are different than most grave robbers."

"Come to think of it, I'm not entirely sure I care. I suppose I haven't made up my mind yet, and haven't been truly pressed to make that moral decision just yet. There is comfort in being able to follow orders, and not give them..."

Lets just get this tomb closed up and report back to the sapphire sage... Maybe he will just have us come back down and clean it out again later, for the faction's sake...

Cyrus can't help but smile in all the irony of their current task.

"Ha!" replies Lort upon hearing Gunari's comment, "Would that you were chopped liver, these fine foods have not agreed with me. I also know a blessing or two these days. I thought the man spoke of a specific ritual, though. Never mind, I'm sure we can muddle through.

"And you forget, Cyrus, we have the blessing of the Society behind us when we rob tombs. Let them worry about the morality of it. I'm just happy to be exploring the world."

Lort smiles cheerily and looks at the map again before picking (what he hopes is) the correct path through the familiar streets of Absalom.

Following Iara’s directions, the group is able to find and use the sewer entrance used by the looter. As Finarin feared, the sewer doesn’t smell at all like roses... Instead, it is filled with odours of excrement and waste, and the elf doesn't want to even imagine what the liquids there might contain.

Absalom’s sewer system is infamously complex, and navigating it would be nigh impossible, if not for the path drawn with green chalk. Tracing the path through the dark and slippery corridors, the Pathfinders easily find their way to the tomb entrance. The chalk path ends to corridor by a brick wall. Closer inspection reveals part of the wall has been dismantled, and then later re-bricked to hide the tomb entrance. It looks easy enough to remove the bricks with a few minutes of work, or just bash in the wall with a few quick strikes.

How do you choose the enter the tomb? Marching order?

If we have to re-close the tomb, would probably be best to carefully open it. I will search for traps and the like, but Lort or Gunari would be our best point men... If it is dark enough to roll a stealth check, I will stay in the sneaky sneaky...

Stealth: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

I'll let you roll perception for potential traps, or other things.

Lowering his pomander, "Wonderful. Remind me again why I choose to wade through the mire for this ... society? Nevertheless, let us disturb little enough when entering. We should prepare for the worst. I fear our ... s@~$ will surely fly faster than Gilligan can toss it."

Finarin turns towards his companions, fully expecting any manual labor to be performed without him.

Should we prep spells? I am comfortable in first or second tier of a marching order. Assuming 1 or 2 abreast max.

"Friends, I would suggest the following marching order. If we are single file, then I should take point, with Lort behind, then Cyrus. We'll then have my armor, Lort's strength, and Cyrus's eyes. We can follow it up with Finarin, Miro, and Ibid. If we can go two-by-two, then I say we have it be myself and Lort in the front rank, with Cyrus and Finarin next, and finally Ibid and Miro. How does that sound?

"If we find a door, or whatever... any obvious entry point, we can quickly cast any 'buffing' spells, and go in."

Cyrus nods in approval of Gunari's suggestion, not breaking his search for hidden danger in front of them.

The old man nods to Gunari, approving of his proposal. "Aye, sounds agreeable to me. I'll watch and cover you as best I can. And I promise I'm better prepared than on our last expedition."

"Hopefully you won't have to save all of our butts again, Gunari. Being the one smart enough to prepare the exact proper spell."

Ibid steps into position in the marching order, drawing his longbow and knocking an arrow. His eyes drift over the group and the surrounding area, watching for threats.

"If no one minds, I'd like to shed a little light on this area, as well," Ibid says, raising his compass-shaped wayfinder aloft with his free hand but waits for approval before casting light.

"I am worried, Gunari. You almost sound ... sober. And you make quite a lot of sense. Let us proceed. Miro, if you please. Would you mind cleaning this ... filth off of me?"

Checking both wrist sheathes, loosening his scimitar, the elf contentedly takes his place in standard marching order looking forward to testing out his new skillz.

"Indeed, your suggestion sounds very sensible, Gunari." He laughs at Finarin's request. "Unfortunately prestidigitation is not one of my known tricks, my friend. We'll have to find you a washerwoman when we get out of here." He chuckles, moving to the back as suggested.

"Never thought I'd see the day when you wanted me at your back and not your front, Gunari," chuckles Lort, clearly amused by the marching order, "But since I can see clearly in the dark, it might be best for me to head forwards a little ahead of the rest when the circumstances are different. This will serve for now, though!"

Lort takes up behind the warpriest, eagerly fingering the hilt of his freshly honed greatsword. Now this is the real party!

Dismantling the wall reveals a short passage which leads into the tomb of Temit Khemi. Staying in the corridor, the party is able to study the tomb as far as their magical light shines. Lort's dark-adjusted eyes can see even further, but leave still the farthest corners of the tomb unrevealed.

The tomb wall has depictions of funerary rites and stylized illustrations of life in Absalom are still fairly well preserved. Over a dozen small, terra cotta statues of humans equipped to perform common chores line the north and south walls, and at least as many urns and coffers are scattered throughout the room. Just at the edge of his vision, Lort sees a sarcophagus that is partly open, and disintegrating shreds of linen nearby attest to someone having ransacked the contents.

The Pathfinders cannot sense anything suspicious within the tomb. It is very quiet, the only sounds are the ones the Pathfinders make themselves.

Blinking once.. twice... and seeing no threats or anything of note in addition to the terra cotta statues and urns.

"Well, who wants to be the first to step into the tomb of Temit Khemi?" Ibid asks with a laugh.

"Ha! You should know better than to issue such a challenge to me!" bellows Lort, shattering the eery quiet, "Let's see what we can do about setting this tomb to rights. At least they've drawn up how we should do it."

Lort strides confidently into the tomb, weapon still drawn. If nothing comes out to attack him, he will check to see what he can do about restoring the tumbled urns to their rightful places.

"So much for a stealthy Lort. Cyrus, is it common for your dead to ... arise and walk out of their coffins?" Finarin moves to flank Lort as he moves further into the tomb.

"Not according to the stories," Cyrus answers Finarin, "But based on our recent experiences, I wouldn't discount that possibility."

Cyrus draws his shiny new Wakizashi and steps into the tomb following Lort. After spending a few minutes to make sure there are no immediate threats, he re-sheaths his weapon and goes about cleaning up the mess the raider has left. He places the amulet back into the coffin, and with Lort's help, slides the lid back over the top.

Making sure to set anything that was askew back to it's "proper" place

"Well... I suppose that simple task is done. How to re-secure this tomb though, that is a more difficult question."

Cyrus purses his lips, deep in thought as he scans the room diligently for anything that might give him a clue.

As the beefier companions go into the room to secure it, Miro keeps his eyes open, casting a spell to detect the presence of any magic. He spends a bit of time to separate the aura of his companions' magic separate from any new auras he might detect.

He looks around the entrance, setting his mind to the task of resealing the tunnel. Perhaps just some bricks, and a bit of mortar this time?

Lort leading the way, the Pathfinders move forwards. Just as the half-orc's foot touches the ground within the tomb, a terrible sensation overcomes him.

The others follow Lort into the tomb, but do not feel anything odd. Now that Ibid's wayfinder can illuminate the whole tomb, the Pathfinders see that it is empty besides the urns and sarcophagi they noticed earlier. The dead stay dead, and no one jumps up from the sarcophagi. Cyrus walks to the disturbed sarcophagus, and places the amulet back to it's rightful place. The lid is heavy, but with Lort helping with lifting, the two are able to slide it back.

All that remains now is to reseal the tomb so it will not be disturbed further. But before the group have time to return to the entrance, they hear sounds coming from the corridor. Sounds of footsteps approaching - someone's coming...

Place yourselves on the map

I placed myself, Ibid, Lort, and Gunari on the map, hopefully I didn't overstep my bounds! Please move yourself if you don't like the spot I put you in :)

"Well, it looks like we have a chance to convince some people to forget about this tomb's existence. I'm not keen on slaughtering some poor sap who just figured out how to feed his family for the next year or so, but I'll not let anyone think they can cut any of my friends down either over a few ancient relics..."

Lort will save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

"AH, MY FUÇKING EYES!" screams Lort in a voice sounding like a bear fighting a silverback gorilla while being mauled by a tiger, "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED TO ME?"

The big half-orc stumbles around, clutching at his face. Rivulets or blood stream down his cheeks like tears, dripping onto the floor. When he realizes that it isn't going to stop, he resigns himself to putting the tomb to rights.

Thanks for the placement, Cyrus!

At the sound of steps, Lort draws his mighty sword and stands at the ready.

"JUST LET ME KNOW WHEN TO CHARGE," he tries to whisper, failing miserably.

"Easy, Lort," the old man says, trying to calm the half-orc. "I'm sure you're not wrong, and we will indeed have to slay whomever approaches... nothing good ever seems to come from a chance meeting a dank, dark crypt... but we need to be sure before we launch our attack."

"One of us will signal you, when it's time for you to do what you do best," Ibid adds, putting emphasis on his allusion to Lort's well known ability to kill, all the while his grip tightening on the longbow clutched in his grasp.

"Miro," the old man says, turning to the halfling. "I don't mean to put you on the spot, but I think it may be time for one of your fabulous speeches..."

Seeing the blood streaming from the half-orc eyes, Finarin produces his silken handkerchief from his sleeve. Looking at the handkerchief closer, Finarin slides the kerchief back onto his sleeve.

"Can you see Lort? No matter, just swing ... hard. On our go ... of course."

Gunari, hearing the footsteps, readies his shield. (I am fine with the placement.). Just in case talking can get us out of here, he casts Enhanced Diplomacy.

He says to his companions, "Well, we've not been quiet, so whoever it is knows we're here."

More loudly, "Hello? Is anyone out there?"

Miro, certainly not opposed to the diplomatic way out, gets ready.

If hostilities break out, he gets ready to rally his comrades. If, instead, Gunari starts trying to diplomatize, he will attempt to assist with all the suave and charm he can muster.

Lort stands ready to "cast" an intimidate. It's still more diplomatic than killing them... ;-)

Just as the Pathfinders ready themselves by the entrance, two gruff-looking dwarves step in from the corridor. Behind them, stands a pale man looking at group, furious. "Thieves! Looters! I found this tomb! It's mine by right, you're not going to steal it from me!" the pale man hisses. "Attack them, minions! Leave no one alive!". The dwarves look at each others, shrugging, and grip their axes.

The dwarves are wearing breastplates, and wielding axes and shields. The pale man is wearing an armour made of bones, and wields a dagger and a shield.

Miro, Finarin and Ibid are up

"Interesting... we get to play the 'good guys' this time. Dwarves, I will have you know that we are un-robbing this tomb! You should just surrender now, and give back what you have stolen here. Do that, and you can leave with your lives. You should know that we are Pathfinder Agents"

Gunari giggles a little at that. With all the stories of agents being 'murder-hobos', that statement should take some of the starch out of their stainless-steel undies!

Kn Local: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Well I know nothing

knowledge(local): 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 7 + (3) = 13

Immediately upon hearing the pale man's order, Ibid quickly steps to get a clear line of sight to the one of the dwarfs. At the end of his movement, he raises the longbow and draws back on the string, calling to Miro as he prepares to fire.

"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you, talking down this bloodthirsty dhampir, my friend," Ibid's voice rings out as he looks down the length of the arrow. "Just tell me if... or more likely, when... I should drop the first of these dwarfs, Miro."

Vonraig is actually a dhampir.

Ibid moves to the location: 1 square south, and 2 squares east of Lort. *token to be moved once I'm out of work*

Readied Action to fire at the southernmost dwarf if Miro does not use diplomacy or diplomacy fails.
attack(longbow): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
damage(+2 str, +1 magic weapon, +3 deadly aim): 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Miro should really do the talking, and we'll use Gunari as the Aid Another... Miro is a far better face character!

"Die shall we? Unlikely."

Uttering arcane words, Finarin casts Snowball at the bottom Dwarf.

Ranged Touch Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Cold Damage: 3d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 1) = 6

Fort save vs DC 14 or Staggered for 1 round

Really - 6? points of damage. You will find me in in the corner the rest of the day reading THIS

Miro is torn between his diplamancer skills and the man's words. He weighs it quickly in his mind, then shakes his head. 'Leave no one alive' kept resonating through his mind. Nope, f~%@ this guy.

Miro starts to sing an ironic song about a bunch of tomb-robbers who ended up dead in the tomb they were robbing.

Inspire Courage. Choot 'em, Bobby.

Miro is torn between his diplamancer skills and the man's words. He weighs it quickly in his mind, then shakes his head. 'Leave no one alive' kept resonating through his mind. Nope, f!$+ this guy.

Miro starts to sing an ironic song about a bunch of tomb-robbers who ended up dead in the tomb they were robbing.

Inspire Courage. Choot 'em, Bobby.

*if Miro's IC occurs before Ibid shoots*

Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Before the dwarf has time to move, Idib has already unleashed his arrow, which pierces the warrior's mail, cutting deep. His troubles are far from over, as Finarin's adds insult to injury with his freezing spell. The dwarf still stands, beard frosty, and staggers forwards. His companion looks angered by all this, and letting out terrible roar he closes in to nearest enemy - Cyrus.

Axe: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Terrible as his roar was, his deeds do match. In his anger, he manages to competely miss the young Osiriani.

Next up: Cyrus

On battlefield the pillars are unpassable. I'd rule you can move to a same square as sarcophagus, but moving over sarcophagi (in north-south direction) requires a DC10 acrobatics check. Sound fair?

Cyrus chuckles at the bravado of the damphir.

"Today will not be your day, villain!"

Knowing Lort is right behind him, Cyrus ducks around the pillar to try to get behind the dwarf in order to get off a better shot against him.

Acrobatics to avoid AoO: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Oof... and totally missed my opportunity to use my shield wand before combat started...

Once in place, he waits until Lort steps up to the dwarf in order to gain the advantage from flanking his opponent to strike.

Holding my attack until Lort steps up to flank, which will push me slightly down in the init order.

Attack, Flank, IC: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 28 for Damage, SA, IC: 1d6 + 1 + 2d6 ⇒ (6) + 1 + (2, 4) = 13

Crit Confirm (wakizashi is 18-20): 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 11 for extra Damage, IC: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Heading to Sydney soon, not sure what my posting will be like, so hope you don't mind this in advance of this "Vonraig" character...

Blood from his eyes smearing his face, Lort steps the requisite five feet up to his foe, flanking with Cyrus. (Please move me, I can't).

"LEAVE NO ONE ALIVE?" asks Lort in his new hellish voice, grinning again for the first time since this demonic curse took hold, "WHAT A SOUND NOTION. AFTER ALL, WE DON'T WANT YOU RETURNING TO LOOT OUR FRIENDS' TOMB AFTER WE'VE RESTORED THE DAMAGE YOU'VE CAUSED!"

Losing his train of thought and becoming lost in the battle lust, Lort savagely swings his blade at the dwarf.

"NNNNAAAARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!" he screams through the literal bloody haze clouding his vision.

Greatsword, power attack, flank, inspire courage : 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 23
Damage, power attack, inspire courage : 2d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (1, 5) + 10 + 1 = 17

As a side note, if Cyrus downs the guy hen Lort will attack the dude on his diagonal. Won't have flank, so it's a 21 to hit.

As quick as Cyrus is, he is not able slip behind the dwarf without drawing a blow from his opponent.

AoO, Axe: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Confirm roll: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16 That was close... Those x3 crits could be nasty..

For a moment it looked like the axe was hitting Cyrus directly between his eyes, but the young ninja managed to dodge at the last moment. The weapon makes a nasty cut to his elbow, but it could have been much, much worse.

Vonraig at the back mumbles words of magic, and suddenly a horrible noise fills the air.
Sound burst damage: 1d8 ⇒ 8
Lort fort: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Ibid fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Finarin fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

My dice hate you... Lort, Ibid and Finrain take 8 points of damage and are stunned for 1 round. This also would mean that Cyrus' ready won't trigger unless someone else comes flanking the dwarf.

A stunned creature drops everything held, can't take actions, takes a –2 penalty to AC, and loses its Dexterity bonus to AC (if any).

Attackers receive a +4 bonus on attack rolls to perform combat maneuvers against a stunned opponent.

Next up: Gunari and Miro.

"Arrgghhh!" the old man bellows in pain as the horrible, cacophonous noise assails his senses, but his cry is drown out by the din filling and malignly reverberating off the walls of the tomb. Ibid sways and looks ready to collapse, but instead stands, rooted in place, one hand delicately holding an ear while the other hangs limp at his side, a weapon cord entwining the longbow to his grasp.

Ibid has a weapon cord attached to his longbow, yippy for being at least a little prepared :)

"Lort, keep clear!"

With that, Miro draws upon his bardic spellcasting abilities, a pile of grease appearing beneath the two dwarven counterparts of Vonraig.

Reflex DC 15 or fall prone.

Filling the squares containing the dwarves and the squares to the right of them.

"What .... was that!" Finarin screams as he puts his hands to each ear.

I was not holding anything, but I will be next round for sure. Get ready you Cullen want-a-be.