Purple Mountain

Game Master Paizo Fan

Somehow, you've found yourself in a small cluster of buildings and tents on the banks of the River Sphinx. Mount Na-Ken rises in the distance, surrounded by its brothers and sisters.

However, the local chatter talks of a new menace; the Cult of the Locust Lord. Adventurers have tried to plumb the depths of the Locust Lord's temple and not returned, and some pilgrims have recently gone missing. All the evidence points to the Locust Lord's cult being the party behind the attacks. The locals are all in agreement that something needs to be done, usually mentioned within earshot of the well-armed strangers to their encampment.

Feel free to introduce yourselves. You will be able to purchase standard gear and up to masterwork weapons here.

A halfling enters in full armor and shield with a small sword at his side. He has a serious look on his face, though his armor, shield, and sword look new and untested. He smiles and looks around,

"Samduc, knight errant. These 'subtle' clues about problems around here can't be ignored."

"Knight errant?" A half elf, armed only with a dagger, detaches himself from a nearby wall with the easy grace of his race. "It's not often that I have the fortune to meet a halfling, much less one skilled at arms. Although I've found that, in general, those who dismiss an unusual sight, usually do so at their own peril."

Though the corner of his mouth is twitched up with a hint of amusement, there's no malice hiding behind his eyes as he offers his hand. "Mithven Droverson. Student of the arcane and novice bowman." He holds his empty hands palms up. "Although I seem to lack for one, at the moment. I agree, it would seem that someone may have to do something about the current state of affairs."

Curiously approaching, a character of faith cloaked in a white coat studded with jagged bones. With white distance eyes,a pale green half-orc looks at you two offering, "You must be of the new group of us "intruders". Gruul Omugu, mine name. A pleasure."

A well traveled dwarf stomps between a row of tents, muttering to himself. Ink and dirt equally stain his hands, cloak, and face as he absentmindedly rubs hair out of his eyes.
Suddenly he notices the others gathered around and looks up sharply. Glancing around, he nervously rubs the grip of the shortsword at his belt. Strange group for a mugging. Not often seeing an elf and an orc together.

You tell me the name of this place? he growls.

He looks around again, trying to spot a tavern or alehouse.

"This place has no real name, effendi," says a man dressed for the desert, "It is merely a stopping point between the two great cities of An and Sophis."

Verbannter notices that there are a couple of buildings, one of which may well be some kind of tavern.

What a diverse mix at these crossroads

"Well met everyone. Let's get some suds and talk about how we will make our way in this land of opportunity."

Mithven regards the other three individuals carefully. A time of need, and four strangers meet at a crossroads. Mother might call it fate. I'm not sure I agree, but..."I can't see why I should pass up a drink, especially not if it can get us out of this sun." No harm in at least chatting. One friendly face in this environment would be a welcome thing.

The Half-Elf squints against the light, trying to figure out which building the Dwarf and Halfling are referring to, and starts walking in the general direction of their gazes.

Agreeing with the thought of a frothy beverage, Gruul ponders, "A well timed drink this seems..."

One place is as good as the next, and this Cult of the Locust Lord sounds like it needs dealt with.
It seems I may have companions whether I want them or not."

Verbannter stomps toward the tavern grumbling to himself.

It seems something must be done. We may not always get to pick our companions, but its always better to have someone watching your back. He looks sharply at the half-orc. Well, usually.

Mithven glances over at the Dwarf. "Come now, he can't be that bad. He's only half Human, after all.."

Not wishing to upset a possible companion, Gruul soothingly says, "As expected Dwarf, I understand your discomfort with aligning yourself with one of the 'hated', but you and I have no reason to follow the usual ways of society. I propose we set aside our moral qualms for until after we've dealt with this current menace."

If needed here's an untrained diplomacy check 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Samduc smiles. "Well spoken. I am technically half human too: half human and half air. Now let's get that drink."

Samduc also plans to hit the locals and barkeep up for information.

The Half-Elf chuckles at that, "Lead on, then." His friendly demeanor belies his discomfort in the desert surroundings in general.

To drink it is.

After Verbannter gets to the tavern he orders himself a single ale and nurses it quietly.
Does anyone have any more knowledge of the Cult of the Locust Lord, or do we just have to get get the knowledge ourselves? Verbannter says in hushed tones.

The 'tavern' is little more than a two-room building. The 'taproom' is roughly the same size as a large living room with some cushions scattered around for the patrons to sit at. It appears that the second room is for the owner, a thin Kelish man who busies himself with cleaning glasses.

Aside from the group, there are a couple of dust-covered travellers relaxing in the cool shade of the building, letting the midday sun cook everything outside.

Samduc smiles as he enters the tavern. He speaks directly to the barman, "A drink for all, and pour yourself some too. I am Samduc the Thirsty, and these are my boon companions."

After some time refreshing himself, Sam will try to bring the drinks to the locals and ask them "Any news in these parts?"
Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

"I have the freshest water this side of the Sphinx, effendi," the barman says, pouring sparkling and refreshing water into clean glasses. Once their thirst is sated, he answers Samduc's question.

"The Cult of the Locust Lord, effendi," he whispers, "They have been a blight on this land for seasons now, abducting pilgrims and slaughtering those who assault their mountain lair."

Locust Lord sounds like a demon of some sort

Knowledge: Planes 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 To see if I may have heard a reference somewhere before. Seems unlikely.

Mithven drops his voice in response "Who is this Locust Lord? When did the cult come here?"
Diplomacy (Untrained): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Sam will settle up with the barman and leave a generous tip.
"How much do I owe? How will I find the mountain lair?"

Gruul ponders quitely, The Locus Lord... Where have I heard that name before...

Knowledge religion check 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

"I know nothing of the Locust Lord, effendi," the barkeep replies, "I know that this cult has been here for almost a year."

"Please, accept the water as a gift, effendi," the barkeep says with a smile.

None of you appear to know anything of this 'Locust Lord'.

"Do you know anything of the cultists themselves? Has anyone seen one?" Mithven pauses to drink more of the water. "Do they have a common manner of dress, or does anything else set them apart from the locals?"

"None have seen them and lived to tell the tale, effendi, survivors tell of strange sounds in the night and then death descends," the barman whispers. "I doubt they are men at all! If they are, surely they have djinni blood!"

"Thank you for the water and the talk. Now we need to find some hard intelligence and go hurt some culties."
Samduc is disappointed there is no obvious 'target' yet.

Just then, a lithe halfling man strides into the bar, dripping.
A fene, Frank, ez volt my finest shirt.
The sullen human who tails him into the bar responds with deference, but his answer is so low as to be unintelligible. The halfling shakes himself, spraying any near the door with a fine sheet of water.
Passing his servant a pack, he whispers to find seats, and quickly.
An ale for me and my friend, keeper, and a towel should you have it.
He keeps one ear on the conversation throughout, and stays far enough detached to run, but close enough at hand to join in. At the sound of a mountain lair, his ears literally perk.
Hallod, Frank? A mountain LAIR.
He hops of his stool- no mean feat, as he stands only barely above three feet- and bows deeply to those assembled.

Jó napot, friends. It would seem to me as though you are off on an adventure- egy igazi kaland- and I so miss my own days of dashing and... well, nevermind that. I would be off with you, if you would have me! My name is Rabzolga. Rabzolga Tolvajsi, at your service. Frank, persze, shall have to come with us, lest one of you assembled shall attend the tools of my trade...

"Most believe that the cult are located in the first mountain as you walk to Mount Na-Ken. There have been rumours for years that there is a vast complex hidden in the mountain, but I do not know how much truth there is in those words, effendi," the barman continues. "Were an intrepid group of warriors to clear the cult from their lair... well, I'm sure there would be many gifts bestowed upon them."

You can purchase up to masterwork simple and martial weapons and most regular goods and services in the encampment at the moment. Once you clear the first level, I'll begin to increase the size of the encampment so that magic items will become available. You're within a day's sailing to the city of An where more powerful weapons and black market items will be available. Worth considering as we delve further into the mega dungeon.

Samduc smiles at the newcomer, "We have enough to start this adventure now, let us go at first light. We celebrate, make camp, and set out for the first mountain tomorrow so the good deeds and rewards will flow to us."

Rab gathers himself together, wringing out his shirt and shaking a hand through his damp hair.
A good rest, and by a fire, will do us valam yio... Agreed, at first light!

Gruul senses the presence of a new companion and makes a mental note of the current events. "So it would seem that we are to be off on the 'morrow. This new lad is curious though; he seems almost as if he's had a troubled past. I must not tress on personal matters but it is ever curious..."

Agreeing with the thought of a pleasant evening with a group of interesting new friends, Gruul raises his untouched glass and proposes, "Gentlemen, let us enjoy tonight and make tomorrow remember our names as we journey forth towards Na-Ken!"

"It's decided then. May fortune favor us in our journey."

You sleep well during the night, bartering for a few beds in some of the merchant tents that are dotted around. Following a hearty desert breakfast and some crisp, clear water, the party begin to head towards the mountain range that lies around Mount Na-Ken.

The party travels for the entire morning, resting at an oasis as the heat beats down upon the desert. A couple of hours later, the party set out once again for the mountains and night is beginning to fall as you pass the foothills.

True to his word, the first mountain that you come to does appear to have a winding trail that leads to an ominous looking cave entrance. The trail looks as though it would take approximately an hour to climb and there are probably two hours before the desert temperature drops to uncomfortable levels.

Assuming that you climb the trail and enter the cave, I've put the map into the short description at the top of the thread. The cave itself is not lit, and I'll need a marching order. Hmm, it doesn't appear to be showing up - you'll find the link in the Campaign Info tab. Showing up now. Huzzah.

Whoever is at the front of the party, roll Perception checks if you have a source of light or darkvision.

As twilight falls, the halfling squints.
Felmutat, Frank. Let me get at the torches.
Taking a wrapped parcel from the pack that Frank carries, Rab strikes a few times at his flint.
Come on... gyujt! Ah, there we go...
Rab holds up the bright torch, the orange light casting deep shadows across his face.
Well, they'll see us coming, but we had a rabbit's chance at grandma's of a sneak up on them with tin can, here... He looks over Samduc, muttering something about covered feet in his native halfling. You'd best go first, then- Egy momei, ega? He lets his eyes adjust for a few moments, then swings the light low to the ground, sweeping for tracks in the dust.
Survival (untrained) 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 = 8
KnDungeoneering 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
With a bow and a flourish, he steps aside to let Samduc forge the way, stepping in lightly directly behind him, Frank huffing the gear behind.

If that counts as the front if the party, 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16(17 to locate traps) perception.

Mithven will follow Rabzolga, letting Gruul take the rear.

Samduc points to the doors. "Can you listen at the doors and tell me what you hear? Maybe unlock them if they are locked. I have no problem being first in."

Does the first room have a door? It was described as a cave entrance and there has been no additional description for the first room yet.

The map shows doors to the left and right and straight ahead. I hate to leave doors unopened.

You've stepped into the first room? Excellent...

As the group enters the cave, Rabzolga and Samduc are suddenly assailed by small darts.

Surprise Round
Mite 1: attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15, damage 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1
Mite 2: attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9, damage 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0
Mite 3: attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18, damage 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1
Mite 4: attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3, damage 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Samduc and Rabzolga both take 1 point of damage.

Round 1
Rabzolga - 25
Mites - 18
Mithven - 10
Samduc - 9
Gruul - 6

Map will get updated in 2.5 hours.

Frank, my bodyguard. 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
With tiny darts still singing their metallic triumph, Rabzolga profers a curse to the heavens and rips the blade out of his own shoulder, whisking the tip to his nose.
perception, for poison 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
His face set in a scowl, he fakes as if to throw the dart.
bluff 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Taking advantage of the flinches that follow, he rolls backward through the doorway.
stealth 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (8) + 14 = 22
Forgetting his other compatriots, he yells roughly into the dark.
Frank! Dobd a fáklya! DOBD A FAKLYA, A MINDENSEGIT! Samduc, bevonják őket!

Whoops, almost forgot, KnDungeoneering, should it apply: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

"Mites, let's get em"

No real cover, so you'll roll outside the cave. We'll wait for Mithven to post. If no update by this time tomorrow, I'll DMPC

Mithven ducks and draws a dagger.

Perception to locate the mites 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

Assuming he spots one, he'll hurl the dagger at it. He won't cast anything without knowing he can get a good number of them within the AoE.

Attack, thrown dagger 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Damage, dagger 1d4 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

1 nonlethal for the lulz. Where's the map?

Map up tomorrow, got to use my work PC for it.

I assume I'm still outside so I wish to wait for the map to update for what I will do.

Mithven spots four small blue fey hiding in the back of the room, although they seem to be rather intent on eliminating him, furious anger in their eyes.

Map updated now. Post first round actions and we'll see how many of the little freaks are left! I am taking it that Samduc and Mithven are in the cave and I'll put Gruul and Rab at the entrance.

Aware that they have now been spotted, the mites change tactics. Two of the mites (marked as 3 & 4 on the map) chatter something in the darkness:

They make menacing hand movements towards Samduc and Mithven.

Samduc, Will: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Mithven, Will: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Samduc suddenly feels a gnawing sense of dread creeping over him. Samduc is shaken, -2 to attack rolls, saving throws, skill checks and ability checks for 10 rounds.

Mithven feels something wash over him, but nothing else happens.

The other two then charge Samduc and Mithven with sickles.

Mite 1, Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7, miss @ Samduc
Mite 1, Damage: 1d4 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1

Mite 2, Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15, hit @ Mithven
Mite 2, Damage: 1d4 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

Round One
Rabzolga - 25, complete
Mites - 18, complete
Mithven - 10
Samduc - 9, shaken
Gruul - 6

As the battlefield has changed, Mithven, you make retcon your previous action and go for the attack should you wish.

Sidestep right attack mite in front with power attack
1d20 + 5 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 5 - 1 - 2 = 171d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 2 = 6