Shackled City (Pathfinder) - GM_Chris

Game Master Chris Shannon 719

You exit the Drunken Morkoth Inn to a gloomy, drizzling morning. However, the fresh, crisp air is refreshing after the night's revels. As you look about the woman is no where to be seen, but you notice that you are not alone...

You exit the Drunken Morkoth Inn to a gloomy, drizzling morning. However, the fresh, crisp air is refreshing after the night's revels. As you look about the woman is no where to be seen, but you notice that you are not alone...

Stepping out of the Drunken Morkoth, Thierry looks out across the caldera barely able to make out the general outlines of buildings on the far side through the drizzle. Strapping on his well worn and battered bastard sword, he reflects on the news of last night. Jack Redshirt dead and dismembered. Aisling used to laugh at any silly thing he said. It would drive me green with envy at how easy it was for him to make her smile. He ruefully smiles at the bitter memory. I should inquire of the town guard to find out what they can say and see that he is at least properly buried. If Mariselle's rumors were true, I should find a priest who will consecrate his remains.

He notices the others exiting the inn and nods in acknowledgement to them. The paladin; fallen? The forsaken priest; almost certainly fallen. I recognize those two, they came in on the heels of Lord Vhalantru. That other though, I don't recall him from last night.

Finneas exits into the dawn light, weary from the long revel but excited at the prospect of a new dawn. Stretching his full height he grabs a piece of fruit from the sign above the door.

Now how did that get out here?

Looking about at those who have left with him, he feels as if something has happened, as if the first step of many has been taken. He casts about for a loose stone from the street. Finding one, he squeezes it in his hand, allowing the sharp edges to cut into his palm.

To remember
That's good son, be proud of your heritage
Not today father, it has been a long night

"Hello all."

Everyone looks so intense... and noble. I think something happened just now but I do not know what. I'm to go with these people, but where? What is going on here?

"Uh. Anyone need anything? Anything I can do to help?"

Atol stands comfortably confused on the moist pavement looking in admiration at his new companions.

"Hello all."

Everyone looks so intense... and noble. I think something happened just now but I do not know what. I'm to go with these people, but where? What is going on here?

"Uh. Anyone need anything? Anything I can do to help?"

Atol stands comfortably confused on the moist pavement looking in admiration at his new companions.

"Hello. I do not believe we've met. My name is Finneas. What brings you to the Drunken Morkoth?"

Dyrant leaves the Drunken Morkoth speaking to Karu Kintabu, profusely thanking him for helping him find the book that Dyrant "lost" in a pique.

"Thank you for helping me find my book. I would hate to lose this as I have already lost my self-respect last night. You have my gratitude for its return." Dyrant claps Karu on the back as the giant walks away down the street.

Dryant blinks, eyes adjusting, at the sunlight hitting his eyes as he regards those standing outside with him.

"What a foul night that was, eh? I walked in lost, am walking out still as lost, but I care much less. Sometimes one needs to really let go before one can rebuild."

Dyrant reaches absentmindedly for his holy symbol, his hand passing through where it should be. Dyrant sighs.

"I don't suppose any of you fine chaps found a symbol in the bar? 2 concentric circles? Small red stones? I would mean a lot to get it back."

"Ah, what a fine night of free drinks and fine company. A pity it ends with us standing blinking in the disapproving light of dawn, but I suggest we make the most of it."

"I don't suppose any of you fine chaps found a symbol in the bar? 2 concentric circles? Small red stones? I would mean a lot to get it back."

"Last I saw you were handing it to the barlord in exchange for drinks. I expect it's still there."

Aeneas exits the tavern still flicking bits of shattered fruit from his clothing.

"Crazy gnomes." he smiles at the memory.

"Not a bad morning. We could use some rain." Aeneas turns his head to the sky hoping the drizzle will aid the de-friuting process.

A wretched drizzle falls from the ash-gray sky. The crowded, rain-slicked buildings seem especially bleak and frightful this morning, hunched together beneath the gloomy skies. A few lights burn in their windows, but mostly their shutters remain closed this early. The scent of chimney smoke fills the air, and the din of water trundles from the rooftops, splashing into dark alleys, and turning street gutters into rivulets. A sudden, plaintive cry for help from a nearby alley splits the morning air.

"What the!?!"

Aeneas turns to the alley and begins to sprint.

To Dryant. "Get the guard."

Louder as he nears the alleyway"The guard is here! Weapons down in the Mayor's name!' Or whatever else the guard say when they arrive in force. I must have seen them break up a bar fight if nothing else.

I am assuming I am not wearing armor but I do have a dagger and my sap. No crossbow though.

Finneas stops his silent musing in the face of immediate action. Rushing after Aeneas he looks for the source of the cry.

Perception:

+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +0 Wisdom
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

I assume I do not have my greatsword or studded leather since I was working on the Gate earlier. At best I would have my hand axe, I leave that to you.

"I have your back Aeneas"

To Dryant. "Get the guard."

Lacking his divine focus and unsure that he still has his god with him, Dyrant will think of the only other thing to ever bring him joy (outside of his ministries): tooting his own whistle.

Move action: pull out signal whistle from bag.

Stnd action: walk into street to get look down alley while tooting, furiously.

Silfr will stride in the direction of the call for aid.

What we lack in armor and weaponry, we make up for in numbers and purpose.

No Eidolon, no armor, no weapons at the moment.
Perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7. I assume I have my cudgel, and Dyrant Maynor, the Pre-Sainted the cloth is not empty, it contains my wooden holy symbol to St. Cuthbert instead of your much finer one which is visible around my neck.

"Aeneas is it? I am yours to command!", Atol yells as he follows Aeneas into the rain.

Already there are folk to be saved! Much better then watching brussel sprouts grow. This is going to be great!

Thierry reacts the scream by sprinting after the others. At the mouth of the alley, he draws his bastard sword. He peers into the alley, his keen eyesight piercing the darkness aided only be the wan light from the gloomy dawn.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Have bastard sword, chain armour and other combat gear. Hey, I was actually at the Drunken Morkoth looking for work when the party crashed the inn. =D

With Aeneas shouting and Dyrant whistling, the group reaches the alleyway to see two men in dark clothes kicking a man on the ground. A third man stands closer to the alleyway entrance and stares at you. They all have painted faces (half black, half white harlequin style) and wear short swords. The man on the ground wears clerical vestments and an amulet while a heavy mace lies on the ground nearby. One of the attackers lifts the victim by the hood of his cloak and thrusts him against a wall as another growls, “Stay away from the orphanage, you got that?” The man closer to you shouts, ”Bugger off! I know the guard and you ain’t it!”

1d20 ⇒ 19 + ??? = People who rolled perception checks don't see anything else.
1d20 ⇒ 18 - Atol recognizes the man on the ground as Ruphus Laro from the temple of St. Cuthbert.

We're not in combat yet, but darn close so here is initiative and a map.
Beating of Rufus Map
Picture of beating

Round 1 Order:
Finneas
MIB 1
Dyrant
MIB 2
Ruphus
Aeneas
Thierry
Atol
Silfir
MIB 3
Once again, feel free to post out of order and I'll resolve them in order as possible. Providing alternatives will speed things along. Round 2 will begin in 18 hours, but hopefully sooner.

Round 1, Initiative 26

"Get away from that man!"
Intimidate
+0 Rank +2 Cha +2 Half-Orc
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Kord teaches strength and martial prowess, but I must not resort to violence first. Be calm. Remember your training.

The man closer to you shouts, ”Bugger off! I know the guard and you ain’t it!”

ROUND 1 Initiative 8

Do I recognize the facepaint style? Looks like gang colours. Knowledge local 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

"I'm close enough for today." Growls Aeneas as he slams his shoulder into the thug.

Full round action. Overrun thug 3 Attack 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14. End move in N,12.

Round 1, Init 19
MIB #1: The man by the wall (#1) drops Ruphus on the ground, pulls out his short sword, and takes a 5' step back down the alley to L9. "Our problem isn't with you citizens! Just move along!"

Finneas does not recognize the men or their face painting.

Dyrant will move to K18, still a'blowin' on his whistle, and then begin to get out his crossbow.

"TWEEEEEEE!!!" ::deep breath:: "TWEEEEEEE!!!"

Round 1, Init 10
MIB #2: The second man by Ruphus also pulls out his short sword, and takes a 5' step back down the alley to N9. "You drunks should just mind your own business!"

Round 1, Init 9
Ruphus: Ruphus takes a 5' crawl towards you to M11. 1d20 ⇒ 13 The men do not swing at him.

MIB #2: The second man by Ruphus also pulls out his short sword, and takes a 5' step back down the alley to N9. "You drunks should just mind your own business!"

"TWEEEEEEE!!!" ::deep breath:: "TWEEEEEEE!!!"

ROUND 1 Initiative 8

Full round action. Overrun thug 3 Attack 1d20+3. End move in N,12.

Aeneas attempts to push past #3 hoping to knock him down. The man doesn't let Aeneas through and holds his ground. Aeneas bounces off him and remains in square N13.

You do not recognize the men. You felt leather armor beneath the clothes as you crashed into him. You are not prone.

Round 1, Initiative 3

Atol moves to M 17 brandishes his new holy symbol with heartfelt pride, and casts Bless on his new friends.

Bless: 50'r burst, +1 morale bonus to hit and saves vs fear

R1, I3

"Were it not for the remarks of these thugs, I would assume this beating to be a St. Cuthbert initiation ritual. We cannot stand idly by while another of his followers is reduced to blubbering tears!"

"I request the aid of Undzo, Devourer of Heretical Poetry, come to us from the Celestial realm and strike these ridiculously marked servants of neutrality!"

Undzo appears and attacks! Thug 3, or I can move forward and summon it to attack Thug 2 should the situation change

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 181d4 ⇒ 1

The alley is awash from his luminescent glow.

As Atol Lem steps forwards and brandishes Dyrant's holy symbol, the whistle goes from a full tweet to a medium scree and finally to a soft sputter before the whistle falls from Dyrant's lips.

"TWEEEEEEEE.....eeeeee....eeeee....t."

He has my symbol. How did he get it?

Round 2, Initiative 26

If the thugs run away:
Finneas moves to stand between where the thugs ran to and the priest.
"What exactly just happened here?"

If they don't run:
Finneas draws his axe from the loop on his belt and steps next to the man at the front of the alley
Move action draw axe, 5 foot step to M13, swing blunt side of axe at thug #3
"You were warned!"
Nonlethal Throwing Axe Melee +4 Strength +0 BAB -1 Fatigued -4 Non-Lethal
Attack = 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (20) - 1 = 19
Nonlethal damage +4 Strength -1 Fatigued
Damage = 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Chance for crit
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15
1d6 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Not sure if nonlethal can crit but if it can and that confirms...

A solid hit!

EDIT: And because my post wasn't long enough yet, I forgot bless, so that's a 16 to hit on the crit confirm.

Thierry moves forward to protect the crawling man. Double move to L11 through L14 to avoid any AoO.

Undzo, Devourer of Heretical Poetry bites MIB #3 on the right arm. MIB #3 responds by quickdrawing his short sword and slashing at Undzo. And I thought that feat was going to be useless

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
1d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Undzo returns to his home plane at a loss for words. MIB #3 then retreats to M6 since Ruphus and Aeneas are empty handed.

Round 2 Map

Thierry flexes the fingers of his off hand, completing a complicated gesture as he speaks, brilliant blue-white energy playing across his hand. He steps up, placing himself in front of the downed priest with two of the thugs directly ahead of him. He reaches out with his lightning charged hand to touch MIB #1.

Melee touch attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Spell damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2

He then swings his bastard sword at MIB #1.

Bastard sword attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Melee damage: 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Sigh, such good rolls too. Oh well. The only way I can keep them is if I partial charge Thug #1. Since I don't want to drop my AC to 7 against these guys (poor Undzo) I will instead:

Finneas moves to protect the fallen man.

"Leave now, and we will cause you no harm."

Move to N11, draw throwing axe

Round 2, Init 19

"Leave now, and we will cause you no harm."

MIB #1 keeps his short sword at the ready, but shouts back, "Agreed!" He then runs away (double moves) around the corner at L2 and out of sight.

Round 2 Init 14 Map

As Thug #1 runs away (probably fearing the whistle more than an easy squished bug), Dryant will move to L12.

Move action: Load the crossbow.

Dyrant begins to summon the breath to deliver a blistering sermon to the thugs, but without his holy badge of office, feels less empowered to do and instead keeps quiet.

Round 2, Init 14
MIB #2 also flees (double move) around the corner and out of sight.

Round 2, Initiative 3 (if we get this far)

Atol rushes to M 12 and cast Stabilize on the downed Rufus. Atol is pretty sure he doesn't need it, but worries on the side of caution.

"Are you OK Rufus? That looks like a nasty bump!", Atol looks up, "Is anyone else injured? It all happened so fast I didn't keep track. I promise to do better in the future."

Why is Durant staring at me so?, shifts uncomfortably, Is he badly wounded? Did I miss something again?

ROUND 2 Initiative 8

"Go on! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again."

Move: draw sap
Standard: draw dagger.

The following assumes the third also runs
That went better than I could expect, but we'd better hurry this up in case they decide to come back with more.

Male voice: You should have hit them in the face. That is the way of your people. I am disappointed.

Grimacing, Finneas looks behind him.

Ah, a loaded man with a loaded crossbow. I'd run too.

I take cover behind one of the barrels in the alley, keeping an eye on the direction the men in black ran while allowing myself to duck any stray bolts from the rear.

"Are we waiting for the guard or getting out of here? I don't want to explain how Dyrant had a crisis of faith and a bottle of rum then starting loading his crossbow."

Finneas briefly looks up and allows the rain to wash over his face, hoping to temporarily banish some of the weariness he feels now that the combat is over.

Undzo, Devourer of Heretical Poetry bites MIB #3 on the right arm. MIB #3 responds by quickdrawing his short sword and slashing at Undzo.

Undzo returns to his home plane at a loss for words.

"Poor Undzo. I shall call him back later and gift him a book."

Silfr will ready to summon another celestial entity should thug 3 advance or attack, rather than flee.

"Are we waiting for the guard or getting out of here? I don't want to explain how Dyrant had a crisis of faith and a bottle of rum then starting loading his crossbow."

"We can hardly abandon this poor fellow to the merciless elements, or as prey for whatever miscreant may spy him in the alleyway. What if more hooligans with painted faces returned to liberate him of his possessions? A priest who loses his holy symbol so easily would be a pathetic sight. Let us instead stand watch and tend to his wounds until the city guard does arrive."

"We can hardly abandon this poor fellow to the merciless elements, or as prey for whatever miscreant may spy him in the alleyway. What if more hooligans with painted faces returned to liberate him of his possessions? A priest who loses his holy symbol so easily would be a pathetic sight. Let us instead stand watch and tend to his wounds until the city guard does arrive."

"I intended we should tend to him whichever course of action we took, of course, no sense rescuing him only to abandon him. I will follow your lead in this Silfr."

Assuming the 3rd MIB is able/allowed to flee
Perception checks
Name + Perception - 1 per 10'
*Aeneas - 1d20 + 5 - 3 ⇒ (18) + 5 - 3 = 20
Atol - 1d20 + 5 - 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 - 5 = 6
Dyrant - 1d20 + 4 - 5 ⇒ (1) + 4 - 5 = 0
*Finneas - 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Silfir - 1d20 + 4 - 5 ⇒ (14) + 4 - 5 = 13
Thierry - 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 3 - 2 = 5
Rooftops - 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17

As the third attacker flees around the corner, Aeneas and Finneas notice a fourth figure in dark clothing on the rooftop dash away. However, they note they did not hear a thing.

Ruphus stands up, but his legs quiver. He picks up his mace and glares at Atol Lem, bloody spittle filling the air. "Where have you been!?! Alexander said you abandoned your garden and went drinking this morning. I normally don't trust him, but you do smell like it--or at least your new friends do. In any case, we need to get you back to the temple. You know you're not supposed to be out on your own." If that's taking it too far Atol, let me know. I'm seeing clueless and gullible, but not actually mentally challenged.

Ruphus turns to the rest of you. "Thank you for the rescue. I wish we could stay longer, but the day has just begun and there is so much to do."

"I.. I..." But there is much to do! The OLD MAN gave me this new symbol of my faith for a reason. Surely I am not meant to leave now that it's just begun. There is something at work here I do not understand, and I am tired of not understanding

"Ruphus. Ruphus, I am staying with these men. I am not drunk, not on liquor. But look for a moment at this Holy Symbol. It is not mine. It was given to me, it is symbolic of my new calling. It is a sign from God that I am on the right track here. I should remain with these men and undertake whatever calling has put me on this road."

I hope, I hope...

Atol stands his grounds a moment, then frets and fondles his Phylactery absent mindedly tracing the carved 'Priest' in the wood with his finger.

"Are you badly hurt? Should I heal you before you go?"

Chris - totally fine!!

Keeping his crossbow leveled at the remaining thug in the alley, the one person of low character and untrustworthiness, one Atol Lem. Dyrant addresses Ruphus, using his crossbow to point at Atol Lem.

"You know this one? He is one of yours? Where I come from, thieves are not allowed to wear the holy symbol of St. Cuthbert."

Dyrant raises an eyebrow to regard Atol Lem moreso.

"Not more than a few minutes ago I had asked if anyone had found my holy symbol in the bar. This one," Dyrant again waives his crossbow at Atol, "remained quiet about it. Then, a moment ago, he pulled out my holy symbol."

Dyrant uses the bolt in his bow to poke at the holy symbol on Atol's chest.

"Tell me, what initials are there on the back of that symbol and what do they mean?" Dyrant waits but a moment before answering himself. "Let me tell you, the initials are 'M.P. + B.K.'." Dyrant smiles at the memory.

"You see, those were the first two I joined in holy matrimony under the eye of St. Cuthbert over 20 years ago: Marigold Pottersmoot and Beren Kyson. They gave me that holy symbol as a gift. Now, how did you get it? And maybe you would like to return it me?"

"Ah. Oh."

... whiirrr, click, click, click

"The OLD MAN gave this symbol to the barkeep and the barkeep gave it to me. I am no thief. If you wish it for some purpose I cannot fathom, take it with my pleasure. I have no need of real possessions and my faith is stronger for the brief time I had it to aid my companions."

Atol reaches out his hand with the symbol clutched in his fingers.

"Take it and be well my child. Perhaps you are the first of my flock in need? Is there something else I can give you? I have not much, but I may be able to scrounge a few coins."

Atol smiles and reaches in his purse, finding it empty.

"Ah. Oh. Perhaps next time I can fill your purse with my own!" Atol grins widely and looks around at the group content and happy with his position in things, though a little confused as always...

Dyrant uses his loaded crossbow's bolt to gently lift the holy symbol out of Atol's hand. He is completely fixated on his symbol and does not hear the words spoken at him.

Finally appeased, Dyrant steps back and holds again his holy symbol, feeling like a fool yet again.

Dyrant puts his holy symbol again around his neck, feeling the familiar tug and weight.

Dyrant smiles and unloads his bow.

I can rebuild someplace else, maybe?

Atol turns back to Ruphus, "Here, let me help you at least a little."

Atol rubs his ankle a little, and converts a Remove Fear spell into a Cure Light Wounds praising St. Cuthbert as he does so.

Cure Light Wounds heals 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 hit points of damage on Ruphus.

"There, that should help with that limp! Now when you get back, make sure to drink some strong tea and stay off that leg if it still feels sore."

I wonder what I did with my old holy symbol. I should get my hands on another as soon as I can or no one will know I'm a Priest!

"While we wait Ruphus perhaps you can tell us what those 3 wanted, and who they were? I noticed a 4th on the roof, what exactly did you at the orphanage that warrants such anger?"

Finneas' hand tightens on his axe handle

"Think carefully on that last question."

"Think carefully on that last question."

Ruphus's wounds close and he stands tall. He ignores Finneas for the moment and continues to speak with Atol Lem, "Curious. I've never seen you cure more than a scraped knee. I might not look it, but I feel completely better. Perhaps something is at work this day."

Turning to the half-orc, Ruphus's nose lifts a little. "I do not know what godless part of this world you came from but I am a servant of good St. Cuthbert and even the crassest creature knows we are good MEN."

Finneas Glenn wrote:

"Think carefully on that last question."

Ruphus's wounds close and he stands tall. He ignores Finneas for the moment and continues to speak with Atol Lem, "Curious. I've never seen you cure more than a scraped knee. I might not look it, but I feel completely better. Perhaps something is at work this day."

Turning to the half-orc, Ruphus's nose lifts a little. "I do not know what godless part of this world you came from but I am a servant of good St. Cuthbert and even the crassest creature knows we are good MEN."

Male voice: He has insulted the tribe, kill him!

"I was born here in Cauldron, and raised in the orphanage."
Pause
"And you were just saved by an ORC from the MEN who attacked you."

"I was born here in Cauldron, and raised in the orphanage."

Pause
"And you were just saved by an ORC from the MEN who attacked you."

"And I can see by your tattoos that you have obviously been 'finding your roots.' It's a shame you have lost connection with your adopted family during their time of strife."