PbP GameDay 3: PFS #6-06 Hall of the Flesh Eaters (1-2) (Inactive)

Game Master Wilmannator

Miro starts to dig, unaware that Cyrus has become adventurous, yet quite lazy. He contents himself to cart off the rocks and dirt the others accumulate, keeping it out of the way.

"Gentl" he stops himself and lets out a quick breath. "Brothers, in these last encounters you both rushed ... headlong into danger. Gunari you with the ... madwoman, and you Cyrus here with the .... undead. Don't mistake foolhardiness with .... bravery. We could have avoided those cannibals ... with some simple rations. And Cyrus if those undead decided you were better tasting than .... that 'mass', we would have been hard pressed to catch you.

The voice of Finarin reaches the old man, and upon hearing the words Ibid shakes his head with a tightly clenched lip and an air of cold frustration. The old man steps beside Miro and begins taking deadly, piercing swings with his pickaxe as if trying to slay some invisible opponent.

As if that little showoff would even listen, Ibid thinks to himself, bringing the point of pickaxe home with rage.

I implore both of you to be more ... prudent in the future. I have grown .... attached to you both. In my long elven years, I have seen many of your .... race, be born, live and die. I pray that your .... time comes when your hair is fully grey and not unnecessarily rushing into ... danger."

Taking a break from excavating, Ibid steps to Finarin after the elf has finished providing his advice to the others.

"Don't take it personally, Finarin, if Cyrus doesn't listen to your words," Ibid says, putting his hand on the elf's shoulder, and shaking his head once more. "Our young friend doesn't know what's good for him... doesn't know to listen when you've got his best interest at heart."

Ibid's mind drifts back to the deck of the Throaty Mermaid... back to the driving rain and salty spray of the wild and hungry ocean... to a desperate plea to the young rogue.

Sorry... been sick all weekend.

Gunari looks at the two starting to do the digging, and before they get into it for very long, he asks "Why don't we check out the one door that is left, just in case. I'd prefer not to be exhausted if we wake up something there. Also, maybe we dig in shifts, and perhaps even take longer, so that we don't wear ourselves out."

Miro continues digging stubbornly for a few more moments beside Ibid before he nods at Gunari's wisdom. Although the instructions were that the tunnel had been collapsed, it would be best to clear out any additional adversaries before they wore themselves out. He gets up and gets ready with the others to open the door.

Cyrus stands, his anger and frustration boiling over. He knew Finarin was right, but his frustration wouldn't let him admit that, yet.

"How is it that you are such an expert on what you think is best for me? YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!" he yells, and stands there for a few, tense moments with his fists clenched.

After a few deep breaths, he calms down a bit. "But you do know what happened. Why is that such a terrible thing to know? How can knowing be any worse than this hell I've been in my whole life, trying to find answers?" he says calmly, quietly, almost pleading.

When it becomes obvious he isn't going to get answers yet, he nods to the remaining door. "Whatever is in there, I'm sure I've woken it up. Sorry. And for earlier. " he nods to Finarin, humbled. "Let's see what that room holds, then we can dig this tunnel."

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Cyrus, my friend, you are obviously fighting some inner demons. We all have histories, but right now we need to focus. I'd hate to see you die due to an impulsive act. Leave those to me, because Cayden Cailean has granted me abilities that help me to survive such... impulsiveness.

"Here, let's drink a toast to our victory, and find what horror lies behind that door!"

The party wonders if perhaps the war priest is sincere, or just trying to avoid hard work. Could be both!

Amaranti grabs the drink offered, and toasts to the Drunken Hero before drinking deep. Then he drops his backpack, and all the digging tool within, and studies the collapsed tunnel. "Better look north door first. Or barricade it. Someone with sharp ears, any sound behind door?"

"True Cyrus, I am not ... your dad. But that does not mean that I am .... unwise. You are a man grown, able to make decisions for ... yourself. A foolish man does not consider the .... consequences, and a petulant child does not .... expect them.

Gunari you speak the truth. Let us .... clear this other room before proceeding."

Finarin has already retrieved his dropped scimitar and now has it ready, following in standard marching order.

Thanks all for posting so quickly! Time to move on.

At the front of the line, Gunari pushes the heavy door aside and steps through with his companions close in tow.

This large chamber has a relatively low ceiling. The far southwest wall is set at an angle, and against the center of the wall sits a heap of bones and skulls resembling a large makeshift throne. To the left of the throne sits an oak and brass sea chest, carved with images of sea serpents chasing their own tails.

Atop the grisly throne sits a rather smug humanoid who reeks with the smell of death. His skin is a pale shade of blue and his eyes glow a menacing red.
Beside the throne, two more undead humanoids stand up and hiss at the entering Pathfinders. These other creatures are the same near-quadrupeds with the spikes covering their bodies and pale yellow flesh. Despite the obvious hatred in their eyes, they do not advance.

The one on the throne affects a confident and almost polite voice as he speaks, ”Greetings, adventurers. It seems you have survived the perils of Sevenfingers’ Tomb, only to find yourselves outmatched at last by I, the ancient and mighty Rajhan-Vol. I grow hungry, and it has been some time since my food has come to me. Please, approach the throne so that we may talk more easily. Then tell me, brave explorers, what it is that you would offer me in return for your safe passage from this tomb.”

Rajhan-Vol

Make me some knowledge (religion) rolls if you will, please (doing the spoilers is too much of a pain in the butt!). You will at least be able to figure out that Rajhan-Vol is a ghast. No need to roll for the festrogs again.

"Greetings, Rajhan-Vol" the old man begins, with a slight nod of his head toward the speaker. "You will of course forgive us, if we do not step so quickly before you, until we have a had a chance to ascertain your intentions and judge our safety for ourselves."

Ibid studies the pale, blue-skin and red, hungry glow within the eyes of Rajhan-Vol.

knowledge(religion): 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (18) + 7 + (6) = 31

Good enough to know everything: Ghast. Of course, he may also possess class levels...

Ok...that's only moderately horrifying.

"Indeed, great Rajhan-Vol...what is it you would seek for our safe passage? Treasure? Magic? A bit of entertainment? I sing quite well, I am told!" Miro grins at the undead thing, not really entertaining any ideas of compromise, but more buying time for his companions to get themselves ready for the almost inevitable conflict.

With his bluster mostly spent, Cyrus breaths deep, his frustrations on simmer again for the time being. He internalizes the wisdom of Finarin and Gunari's suggestion, and finally has enough frustration out of the way to see the value in it. This of course, pays off well as the group approaches the obviously powerful looking group.

This is going to get interesting...

While standing in the doorway, he hangs his sickle back on the loop in his belt, remembering what happened the last time he cut one of the quadruped creatures. Carefully drawing his mace, as well as a dagger from its sheath in his boot, he every so slowly creeps into the room as his companions speak with the abomination. His thoughts mirror Miro's though he is unaware. His muscles tense, waiting for the inevitable conflict.

Sheathing my sickle, for now, drawing a light mace as well as a dagger. When this is over I am buying a wand of shield to use on myself for times like these...

Any metal on the great Rajhan-Vo?

Man, Finarin, you've really lucked out on the whole metallic thing here. Only bone. He does have a belt which may have a metal buckle - but it's mostly leather and the metal wouldn't touch his skin.

The ghast smiles a ghastly smile at Miro's offers, "It has been some time since music has filled these halls. Very well, halfling, sing for me! Let us see what you can do." Rajhan-Vol leans back on his throne and waves Miro forwards with a casual swish of his clawed hand.

Perform check, if you decide to sing. Let me know if you want to make a different roll with it (eg. diplomacy) also and feel free to make that instead but not as well.

Man, Finarin, you've really lucked out on the whole metallic thing here. Only bone. He does have a belt which may have a metal buckle - but it's mostly leather and the metal wouldn't touch his skin.

Not really, I get a +3 to hit on shocking grasp if they have metal - changes my tactics

Amaranti twitches his fingers nervously, and waits for Miro to act.

Your change for glory might be here, useless worm, the Garundi sends, without even looking at Kaisharga.

So life and death depends on how the stiff likes the song... Oh, the suspense..

Kaisharga moves itself into position to strike quickly, glowing eyes fixed on Rajhan-Vol. "Sing well, half-man. Don't choose anything too modern", the eidolon whispers, a hiss barely audible.

kj:religion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Gunari is more than a little confused by the group talking to this undead thing, so looks to his defenses, first. He figures that if the ghast is hostile, He will attack at the spell casting. If he is a caster himself, and not hostile, he may wait due to the defensive spell.

Gunari casts Shield of Faith

Finarin steps alongside and a touch in front of Cyrus and whispers "Ghast first". He sheathes his scimitar, and loosens his bow for quick and easy access.

Miro steps forward a couple of paces, launching into a rather long ballad about a Queen of Korvosa and the evil machinations of a long-dead evil dragon and devil lord and the ultimate triumph of a group of heroes over these things. He just picks a long one to make sure his companions have plenty of time to get their tactics straight.

Perform Sing: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

Luckily for Gunari, Rajhan-Vol seems quite enamored with Miro's singing and takes no offense at his defensive casting.

When Miro is finished, the ghast stands and gives a rather half-hearted round of applause, more for show than genuine appreciation. He glares at the festrogs until they too applaud the halfling's beautiful singing.

"Marvelous! Beautiful singing, my dear fellow. I feel quite moved," Rajhan takes one dramatic step forwards, places his hand on his heart and gestures broadly with the other - for all the world as though he were a nobleman giving a rousing speech to the peasantry, "I shall demand but one of your number in tribute and allow the remainder to go free. That is five for the price of one. If you cannot decide for yourselves, I will take the largest of your number. Probably that Garundi over there."

Rajhan-Vol awaits your response with an expectation of gratitude for his divine benevolence.

Miro's wonderful distraction has allowed you all to move to wherever you like in the room before the ghast makes this reasonable demand of you. You may each have a single spell cast or have drawn a single item or weapon without raising anyone's suspicions. You may whisper any messages you like to one another during his song without being heard or noticed.

While Miro sings his beautiful tale, Ibid moves a few feet from the room's entrance, while the ghast is listening to the halfling's beautiful monologue. When the old man has stopped moving, his longbow is in hand and his eyes are narrowed at the blue-skinned monstrosity.

"...If you cannot decide for yourselves, I will take the largest of your number. Probably that Garundi over there."

If only you knew what we have already decided, the old man thinks, watching his companions readying to end the terrible life of this ghast. Your fate has been decided, Rajhan-Vol.

Ibid moves to J1, draws longbow. *token not yet moved*

"Ibid, bows, ghast first"

To group "That thing ... smells. Stay away form it if you can"

Slowly creeping to the periphery of the room, Finarin manages to sheathe his scimitar, and draw his bow.

Can someone please move me to K1?

Cyrus'd

I'll take M3

"Ibid, bows, ghast first"

Ibid nods as a cold smirk spreads across his lips at the thought of the oblivious, blue-skinned wretch unaware his fate had been sealed.

"Miro, play ... another tune. One we all know ... and love."

From my post above and the guidelines you just gave us, I will keep my sickle in hand, but draw a dagger, as opposed to switching out for the mace. What an awesome build up...

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During Miro's performance, Amaranti casts Shield on Kaisharga. The Garundi listens to the creatures 'noble' offer, grimacing when he hears the default victim. Then, with a booming voice, he declares: "Kaisharga volunteer, useless worm it is. No good for us"

You get sick, if get too close. What serpent-vomit look like? Try keep dead ones away from us

Are you truly interested in the look of my bile ? If your friends are right about that creature, you'll going to see a lot of my waste.

Silently, and very slowly the eidolon starts moving toward the ghast, keeping away from archers' line of fire. 15 feet from Rajhan-Vol, Kaisharga comes to a stop, and waits for the battle to begin.

Tell your friends with bows they can start whenever ready

move to J6

Miro nods to Finarin, starting another song, this one much more boisterous and loud, a song of kicking ass and taking names. Well, they weren't really worried about names.

Will start inspire as my surprise or round 1 action.

Ibid's action, if we are allowed a surprise round. Or first round action.

Hearing the tone and tempo of Miro's exquisite voice alter to that which seemingly urged and forced Ibid's hand to deadly force, the old man raises his bow at the blue-skinned monstrosity. Without a second thought, as if Miro were controlling the very bow is his hands, the old man aims and releases the string. Watching the arrow lunge forth toward its mark, Ibid knows he has put every bit of his skill and accuracy into slaying this foe... and he knows it is at Miro's urging.

designating Rajhan-Vol my ranger's focus (+2 attack and damage)

attack(longbow w/ RF & IC): 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 5 + 2 + 1 = 19
damage(+2 Str, +2 RF, +1 IC): 1d8 + 2 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 2 + 2 + 1 = 10

From the corner of his eye - Finarin sees Ibid draw. Whispering arcane words, the bow strengthens, the string tighten, and the arrows level straighter.

Shortbow Attack W/ Arcane Pool Point & IC: 1d20 + 5 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 1 + 1 = 15
Shortbow Damage w/ Arcane Pool Point & IC: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 + 1 = 7

If we have a surprise round, if I am before Miro I delay, unless that takes me after Ghast, then take 1 off my attack and damage roll

and I will move to try and stay more than 8 squares away from him

I will rule that Amaranti and Kaisharga's frankly awesome ruse kicks off a surprise round against the otherwise-ready-for-anything Rajhan-Vol. It is there action to distract him, though, but everyone else gets their licks in. Nice work to the Garundi and his Eidolon!

The haughty ghast looks with disdain at the proffered sacrifice, ”What do you take me for?” he asks, clearly insulted, ”Aside from the clearly magical nature of this creature, I have no interest in eating worms!” He takes a step forwards, ready to kick Kaisharga in whatever passes for his ribs when an arrow sprouts from his chest.

Betrayed, Rahjan-Vol points an accusing finger at Ibid before another missile strikes him, this one tipped with arcane energy. Foul, dead blood squirts from the new wound in his eye socket. ”Your efforts are for… naught… I will… devour…” The Lord of the first level of Sevenfingers Tomb does not finish his sentence as he finally finds a release from his eternal boredom.

The Festrogs at his side seem shocked as they become free-willed undead. Able to follow their own destinies for the first time in their undeath, they search their souls for that which they most desire. After bare moments of introspection, they both arrive at the same conclusion: what they want is… to feed.

Next up: Cyrus, Gunari (Surprise round), Finarin, Miro, Cyrus, Ibid (Round 1).

Cannot believe you just two-hitted the BBEG!

WOOAAAHHH!!! Nice shootin pardners!

Cyrus, remembering the spray from the last time he cut one of these weird beasts open, launches his readied dagger at one of them as he sees the surprising, satisfying arrows cut down the pompous undead leader.

Surprise Round Action:

"Deadeye Amaranti, now Deadeye Ibid and Finarin!" He shouts as his dagger spins end over end towards Dingus.

Attack vs FF w/IC: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 1 = 13 for Damage w/SA, IC: 1d4 + 1 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 1 + 1 + (5) = 11

He finds these new sandals give him surprising quickness in everything he does in that initial battle rush, and draws another dagger.

First Round Action:

Cyrus wastes no time in taking advantage of the slow reaction time of the inguses. He quickly launches his second dagger.

Attack vs FF w/IC: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 1 = 13 for Damage w/SA, IC: 1d4 + 1 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 + (3) = 7

Once it is thrown, he takes a moment to draw his final dagger from its hidden location, and prepares for one final throw before entering the fray.

Ugh I hope I don't have to get sprayed again...

Just in case including my sneak attack damage creates questions, the SA damage is applied within 30 feet, when the proper conditions exist, in this case, the target being flat footed... Its about the only way to sneak attack from range.

Ibid watches Rahjan-Vol crumple to the chamber floor like a disturbingly twisted marionette with its string cleanly severed, as a sense of overwhelming pride for his companions takes hold within his heart.

A wry smile slowly spreads across his face as he knocks another arrow and releases it at the nearest festrog, perhaps not paying as much attention as he should.

from Ibid's position in J1, PBS applies against Wingus.

attack(longbow w/ PBS & IC): 1d20 + 5 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 5 + 1 + 1 = 9
damage(+2 Str, +1 PBS, +1 IC): 1d8 + 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 2 + 1 + 1 = 9

Dingus makes to hop over and attack Finarin, but is halted instantly as a dagger embeds itself in his neck. Puss sprays the chamber floor just before Dungus falls down mid-leap.

Wingus looks a little distressed, but his hunger overwhelms him as he turns to Gunari. Disgusting liquid pours from his boils as another ninja-powered dagger flies forth, thudding into his chest. Wingus wobbles uncertainly on his feet, but maintains his aggressive and hungry stance towards the warpriest.

Not even a stray arrow from Ibid dissuades him from this course*.

*Tee hee: main "course"! Am I right?

**EDIT**

Next up: Gunari (Surprise round), Finarin, Miro (Round 1).

Miro, wanting to keep any of these things from feeding on his allies, ceases singing and calls upon his innate powers to cause a slick spot underneath Wingus, hoping to trip him up and let the turkey shoot begin.

Will delay, taking the last action before Wingus. Cast Grease, F5-G6, DC 15 reflex or fall prone, maintain inspire.

Gunari, seeing that the battle is afoot, uses a fervor to cast Divine Favor, and charges the undead, drawing his light hammer, and attacks. He charges to H4

Silver light hammer charge divine favor inspire: 1d20 + 4 + 3 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 3 + 2 + 1 = 17 for: 1d4 + 2 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 3 + 1 = 8

AC is currently 20 due to the charge and shield of faith.

He maddened warpriest's blow shatters the bones of the festrog's skull. As with before, the blunt instrument does not pierce the creature's flesh enough to properly burst its pimply flesh. It is enough to put it down forever.

A strange quiet fills the "throne room" and the adventurers take a moment before looking around. Nothing of note is found save for a belt of dexterity +2 on Rajhun-Vol himself and a sea chest in the corner of the room.

The sea chest next to the throne bears a coarse inscription that reads “I leave you this as wages for your loyal service from now to eternity, my ambitious traitor—S.E.” Within are 10,000 silver pieces—a tiny fraction of Sevenfingers’ wealth.

Nice work! Nothing more to do or see here... time to clear side tunnel?

Sorry guys, scratch that Belt of Dexterity. Wrong tier and over-the page issues.

Miro shrugs and walks back to the other room, commencing with the digging once more. Stupid undead...just stay dead.

"Ok, I guess that it is time that we get our hands dirty, and dig out the tunnel. That is, of course, if there is nothing left here. Damned undead."

Gunari is not looking forward to the physical labor. Isn't that why he became a priest and an adventurer?

The companions resume their digging. It is hard, thirsty work. It is not luck, but excellent preparation that sees the party well equipped for this expedition. Gunari’s estimate was pretty much spot on: the companions remove the final boulder about six hours after they began.

How in hell did you all pass?

The companions, ever cautious, arm themselves and Gunari takes point to steps through the opening first.

This small chamber reeks of filth and rotten meat. A heap of coins and other valuables lies piled in the middle of the room. The largest item in the pile is a gem-studded copper sphere. Though completely motionless, the light on the sphere seems to flicker and fade like a desert mirage.

Blithely walking forwards to get a closer look at the sphere, the warpriest is taken completely aback when a ravenous ghoul leaps down upon him from behind and tries to tear his throat out.

Ghoul bite attack vs Gunari: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

The ghoul is too engrossed in its own hunger, however, and misses completely.

Finarin steps through immediately afterwards, and with a spurt of arcane energy strikes at the ghoul.

Finarin attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Scimitar damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 I’m even rolling for damage like Finarin does!

Finarin’s attack is accurate, but unfortunately less effective than he hoped.

Miro sings a song of sixpence or some other inspiring ballad that spurs his companions on to greater acts of heroism.

Cyrus hurls a dagger at the ghoul.

Cyrus hurled dagger: 1d20 + 5 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 5 + 1 - 4 = 19
Dagger damage: 1d4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 + 1 = 6

It strikes the thing between the shoulder blades, but still it drools and hungers for Gunari’s warm flesh.

Ibid, strides into the room and brandishes his longsword.

Ibid longsword: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 5 + 1 = 18
Longsword damage: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 1 = 12

With a single swipe of his blade and a flick of his wrist, Ibid strikes the ghoul - and the last hostile creature in the dungeon - and beheads it.

With the ghoul out of the way, the companions stare in astonishment and no small sense of victory as they see that the sphere matches Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry's provided description.

Orb of Stars

Beneath the orb are piles of gold, silver, and copper coins dating back to the Age of Enthronement. There is also a shiny instrument that is shaped like a curled up serpent of some kind. Finarin later identifies it as a horn of fog.

Sorry to take over on this one, it's just digging and a very easy encounter. No need to draw this out any further. Time to report back to the VC!

Ibid, as stated earlier, has maintained an excellent written journal. Also, Gunari prepares an outstanding map of the tomb for the VC: Knowledge (Engineering), DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Using the folding boat, the party is able to return to The Pixie easily enough. It is another two days before Captain Benarry arrives. The half-orc captain is coated in sweat, dirt and is exhausted. Her earlier cheeriness is replaced with weariness. She refuses to talk about her “other projects”, but does lean forwards to speak to the assembled team, ”So, how did your expedition go? What were you able to discover about Sevenfingers’ Tomb? I want your full report. Spare no detail."

"Ah yes, back to digging I guess. Again I recommend we take .... shifts. Do any of you see a need for me to set a ... trap? Or have we killed all the undead here. Regardless, we should set a ... watch. I volunteer for first watch ... and any other watch we may need." The demure elf was not looking to volunteer anytime soon to lift a shovel, swing a pick ax, or lift a stone.

I’m even rolling for damage like Finarin does!

Finarin’s attack is accurate, but unfortunately less effective...

Har Har

Holy wall o' text I was Cyrus'd with. I may need to take an aspirin after getting that smack down.

Awww, you killed the BBEG while I was sleeping :) Good job!

Not without you setting it up with Kaisharga! This group rocks.

Cyrus non-chalantly meanders over towards Ibid.

Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

And slides the Journal out of his pack. He flips it open and starts to read.

"Task A: Learn origins of Lady Darchana's servant, investigate and learn the source of the scrying.... Oops! Apologies, wrong page."

Cyrus' cheeks flush a little red as he flips through a few more pages, deftly turning his shoulder to block Ibid from grabbing the journal from his hands.

"Ah-Ha! Here it is. Um... A sketch of Absalom? What the... Ahhh... haha! Uhh.." Cyrus scrambles awkwardly, flipping through the pages again.

He begins to "read" even though he continues to flip page after page, and it is apparent he is making it up as he goes.

"Well there was some cannibals, a jungle, a clever trap, a strange carving that made you want to eat dead things, A room with a tree and an eye thing, another room with flesh eating undead, a ghast who sat on a throne of skulls and enjoyed the exquisite singing of Miro here, and finally, a buried treasure room with the prize you seek."

Cyrus snaps the journal shut with a flick of his wrist, and hands it back to Ibid, thoroughly embarrassed. As he sits back down, near the back of the group, he mentions, "You should ask the others for the more detailed stuff...." And looks at the wooden floor around his feet, hoping the attention will shift back off of him quickly.