Shifty PFS Group Bravo (Inactive)

Game Master Nik B.

1d20 ⇒ 12

It astonishes me how often a combat ends with a Magus critting.

You got the book (the one thrown at you) and you solved Bosks little problem - all is well with the world.

Next up is Hydras Fang.

I need to go rustle up a replacement for Tikky.

Boon 1d20 ⇒ 13

THE HYDRAS FANG INCIDENT

You are awoken in the middle of the night by a sharp rap at your door. Opening the door, you find a sleepy-eyed page requesting your presence in Drendle Drang’s quarters. You dress hastily and navigate the halls of the Grand Lodge. As you near Drang’s chamber, snatches of violin music waft from the hall where his quarters are located. Arriving at the door to his chamber, you realize the music is emanating from his room and your knocks go unanswered. Entering his room in ones and twos, Drang ignores his guests until four groggy Pathfinders arrive. Once all four are assembled, he sets the violin down abruptly and strolls over to the fireplace mantle, retrieving a felt slipper and a meerschaum pipe. He withdraws a small pouch from the slipper and opening it, removes some shag tobacco. He begins to pack the pipe with the tobacco before removing a hot poker from the fireplace, touching it to the pipe bowl, and drawing on the pipe until the contents kindle an ember. He stands eyeing the assembled group and puffing on the pipe for a long few moments before speaking.

"Pathfinders, I called you in tonight to discuss a problem I need you to solve." he says as clouds of pipe smoke drift lazily around his head. "Have you ever heard of Darsielle Du Moire? He’s the third son of a wealthy Chelaxian count and a little prick at that" he says before anyone assembled can answer his question. "He exceled at squandering the family fortune on debauchery and hedonism before this old man gave him the boot. Old man Du Moire gave his son a small sailing vessel and a privateer’s writ and sent him on his way. Well Darsielle took to a privateer’s life like a jackal upon the carcass of a fallen stag" Drandle says as he begins to pace the room. "In a few short seasons, he sank half a dozen pirate ships, as well as one or two Andoren vessels that he claimed were unmarked" Dreng rolls his eyes. "Due to tales of his ruthlessness, the infamy of his ship, the Hydra’s Fang, has spread. Then the little bastard sailed in to Westcrown and demanded to be made an admiral" Drandle smiles and shakes his head. "Darsielle’s got a pair on him. I’ll give him that. Anyway, his demands didn’t sit well with the current high-admiral, Astran Thrune. Compounding matters, the Andoran government accused Du Moire of deliberately attacking free Andoren ships. Dubbing his attacks “acts of war,” they threatened to retaliate unless the Chelish government placed a cease and-desist upon the Hydra’s Fang".

Dreng stops pacing long enough to knock some of the ashes out of his pipe and reload it with more tobacco. Where was I? Oh yes, soon after the Andoren accusations, several of the imperial families called for the privateer’s head. Upon official word of his condemnation, Darsielle fled Westcrown and went on a rampage, foundering ships and looting small towns up and down the Andoren coast. This time, the Andorens responded with a formal declaration of war. Hoping to avoid conflict, the Chelish diplomats promised to permanently rid the Inner Sea of the Hydra’s Fang, provided they stay their attacks. Andoran accepted a temporary treaty, giving Cheliax 30 days to make good on their offer". Drandle smiles again, shaking his head. "Such a little prick. Well, a fortnight later, Darsielle struck the small Andoren village of Wittleshine, burning it to the ground. He churned the ivory sands to black ash, butchering scores of fishermen and seaweed farmers before dragging off the living in slave chains. Keeping their word, Chelish dragoons attempted to stop him by ambushing him with two battleships just off shore. Chelish rear-admiral Gusarre the Bleak led the dragoons and in a radical maneuver rammed the prow his ship, the Righteous Fury, into the Hydra’s Fang’s hull. Unfortunately, one of Darseille’s men got off a lucky retaliatory shot that struck Gusarre in the throat, pitching the admiral into the angry waters. In the disarray, Darsielle’s men set the Righteous Fury’s sails aflame with a barrage of tarred arrows. Du Moire quickly piloted a narrow escape, while the remaining Chelish ship chose to aid their allies rather than give pursuit—a poor decision, for which her captain was later hanged" Dreng frowns "Be glad we don’t live in Cheliax".

He stops pacing and stares at the part - "Which brings me to your part in this. With the Hydra’s Fang’s badly damaged hull taking on water, Darsielle desperately sought safe harbor in the one port where he could still pull favors, Diobel. Right here in our home territory". Drandle smiles wickedly. "I need you to go the Diobel where you will be contacted by one of agents at a local pub called “The Tails”. He’ll tell you where to find Du Moire. Also we have intelligence that says that Darsielle has some tablets that we’d like to get our hands on, but your contact will explain everything" Dreng gives the party a half-cocked smile. "So you better get packing. Any questions?"

A meaty young man clutching a long spear in both hands and rather flushed races up to the group as they approach Drang's chamber, panting as a furious bellow echoes down the corridor behind him,

"Errr, help? I need to get out of here! Are you going in to see the Venture Captain? Let me come? I, errr, may have let my eidolon eat a goat on the carpets and the housekeeper is none to thrilled about the results... Please? I can fight, and cast a few spells, and she threatened to castrate me! And as an aspiring Knight I cannot hit a woman, well not unless she's performed some great villainy, I'm not a paladin..."

Hearing another shriek, the young man's eyes widen, "Oh, dammit, must have found the litter box - I mean the painting had blood all over it anyway, and I'd have been moaned at for taking him outside, and a whole goat... Errr, so I can come right? Thanks!"

Hastily he slips into Drendle Drang's office and assumes an attentive pose, after stepping out of sight from the corridor,

"Anything we can recognize this contact by Venture Captain, or will he find us?"

Are we to capture the vessel as a 'prize' as well?, the recently blooded Turac asks eagerly?

He smiles at Turacs forthrightness.

"Do as you will, so long as we get to the fellow first and put an end to him - one way or another - hand him in or walk a plank. We are worried about our tablets too"

He asides to Radnor:

"Get on down to the Tails and our agent will find you, you'll stand out well enough for him to know who you are"

Turac racks his brains as to what he knows of the captain or ship or recent events.

Any relevant knowledge rolls?

"Great, consider me ready to go then. I'll summon Nuzzle later, after we meet our contact blue furry dragons do tend to be rather conspicuous," Radnor says brandishing his spear, as if to show willing.

Nothing in particular - its more a case of everyone checking in then I'll roll you over to Diobel where it kicks off in full :)

There is a look from Dreng that suggests an unmuzzled dragon could have some interesting consequences.

You arrive in Diobel via the overland route from Absalom to meet a contact in a pub known as “The Tails”; a dingy, brine-soaked shack covered with swordfish tails located in a rundown section of town called South Reach. There, bitter longshoreman coming off the graveyard shifts pile in and slam rounds of a potent shark-fin liquor, cursing and complaining until they’re drunk enough to be carted home by noon. The disparaged scene has few prying eyes—the ideal place for Pathfinders to pass along their covert whispers.

You enter early in the day, when the small crowd of older men is at its most drunk and rowdy, the revelry within barely contained by the boarded-up windows. You stand out like sore thumbs among the ruddy-faced dockworkers, most of whom have more ginblossoms than teeth. The crowd immediately heckles you for being up-scalers and gold-thumbers, demanding you spend some of your coin to buy the bar a round, but quickly fall silent when moments later, a dark, cloaked figure rises from the back of the bar. Then, eyes averted, everyone returns to their former conversations.

Drawing back his cloak, your contact reveals himself — a man his late forties with obvious Chelaxian features and a faint beard. He introduces himself only as Osprey, then invites you to sit before he finally tells you why the Society dragged you to Diobel: “We’ve word that the accursed Chelaxian pirate Darsielle Du Moire’s has anchored his much sought ship, the Hydra’s Fang, in the harbor. Everyone’s looking for that bastard. He carries with him some ancient tablets of extreme historical value to our organization. Unknown to most, Wittlestone, the small Andoren town Du Moire razed to the ground, was also home to Myraxus Threeshadows, a noted but aging sage and umber mystic supposedly of ancient Azlanti decent". Osprey shakes his sadly before continuing. "Among Myraxus’s possessions he kept ancient forgeries of several tablets used in ancient rites during Old Azlant’s height. When Darsielle destroyed the village, he slew the wizard and took the tablets, hoping to pawn them to one of his buyers in Diobel. The tablets are a priceless archeological treasure, one greatly desired by the Pathfinder Society. In fact, just prior to the Azlanti’s death, we placed several bids to purchase the tablets and so naturally were the first to realize they’d gone missing. You must race to get Du Moire and recover the stolen tablets before his pursuers find him or he flees port" he lets that sink in a moment - “If our sources are correct, we’ve learned that he owes a substantial amount of money to one of the Consortium’s more ambitious Enforcers, an importer named Lubor Staizkal. Likely he needs to settle with him at some point. Go to Lubor’s shop on Meldon Lane, near the docks, and see if you can pick up Du Moire’s trail from there, then do whatever you can to get those tablets. May the Gods speed you in this task.”

Any issues if we put out one of the Consortiums eyes by dealing with this Lubor in a permanent fashion if he gets uppity?

Radnor nods, "Well that seems simple enough, I have no questions, how about you guys?"

Osprey has a chuckle at the idea, it being an entertaining premise.

Over a cold ale he expresses some sympathy that you are all out of towners and fills you in on the Kortos Consortium.

The Consortium is a semi-covert crime syndicate specializing in running contraband in and out of Absalom. Posing as a merchant’s collective, they have slowly seeped their way into every facet of Diobel’s social and political infrastructure, with high-ranking members serving as elected officials and holding prominent social positions. They ruthlessly persecute non-affiliates, and those caught smuggling are righteously handed over to Absalom’s officials. Such seemingly aggressive tactics create a thickly spun chrysalis of deceit to mask their criminal motives. Capital gained from dues and their own smuggling operations funds a hierarchy of minions used to maintain the group’s political infrastructure and protect its extensive property holdings. Diobel also provides a perfect strategic location for the Consortium to keep watch over activities in Absalom. Ultimately, the Consortium seeks to extend its gluttonous reach into the City at the Center of the World; if not openly, then by plucking its shadowed strings.

"So maybe not the sorts you want to tangle with, it could get out of hand very quickly and for little gain"

Anyone else before moving on?

On your contact’s advice, you arrive at the shop of one of DuMoire’s supposed connections. A sign over the door reads “Lubor’s Imports.” The door hangs slightly ajar. All is dark within,and eerily silent.

As you peer inside, you witness the scene of a recent brawl. Furniture lies smashed and strewn about. Near a closed door at the back of the shop, two bodies slump upon the floor, their blood pooling slowly beneath them.

Radnor summons an eagle onto his shoulder and rushes through and searches the room for threats, and if he finds none bends down to check the bodies for signs of life - though its rather obvvious he has no idea what he is doing.

Heal: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2

well, that rather puts a bit of a spoiler on things chaps.

He searches the room for clues while the knight errant tends to the bodies.

Take 20

Map up

Both men are clearly dead - one has had his throat cut, the other stabbed repeatedly - his body bearing several knife wounds.

As you check the bodies, Turac hears the sounds of things being moved in the adjacent room through the shut door.

The Arcanist holds his hand up, to catch his fellows attention and then stealthily as he can, draws his sword and stalks over to the door.

Stealth 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

He does a rubbish job and kicks over some of the debris in the room with a clatter.

Checking in. Not sure how I fell so far behind. Pozuket's been leveled up to 3. Yay!

What's an Umber Mystic?

Pozuket looks around the smashed-up shop with distaste, but quickly draws his brand new crossbow at Turac's gesture.

Radnor gives Turac a puzzled look, and whispers "Why are you sneaking?"

He points at the door, moves up to it and prepares to open it, moving to one side so the door shields him.

Radnor turns and nods levelling his spear and waiting.

Going to go with the older toon for this

Drawing his longsword, he slides his hand into his buckler and prepares himself, then nods to Turac. "Let us be on them, then."

Shifty, Aranan's sheet needs to be updated, I will do so tonight, but he is 5 and has a level of Bloodrager now

Thanks Aranan

...Turac attempts to move the door and finds it firmly locked from the far side, clearly this was some sort of operation where people required lockable internal doors - it occurs to him quickly that traversing this portal will involve crashing the door...

In short, there's no delicate way in and no locking mechanism to manipulate from this side - it will need to be smashed in

Radnor charges the door, but rebounds wincing. He continues slamming his shoulder ineffectually against it until it finally give - stopping only briefly to resummon his eagle when it vanishes.

Str: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Str: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Str: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Str: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Str: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Str: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Last one is the charm :)

APL 2.5 = T1-2

A teenage girl hovers over the corpse of a middle-aged merchant. Her silent eyes filled with tears, she mouths the word “daddy.”

Two armed toughs stand ready to face you off - swords at the ready!

R1
Poz
Radnor
Turac
Enemy
Aranan

"What happened here, better get your stories out fast because a spear through the gut makes talking tricky. Should we take them girl?" Radnor says, unsure if the thugs might be guards - though he doubts it.

Waiting on the others before I pick my spell choice

By the blood on their swords and the dead body at their feet Radnor is about 100% certain these guys aren't guards :p

The girl looks as though she is looking to be rescued, the men look more like 'pirates' for want of a better word - they gesture to Radnor to bring it on.

Radnor's celestial eagle goes for the northern man with a single flap of its wings trying to smite him, while he drops his longspear and pulls his club as he moves to strike. The eagle is more successful than Radnor.

DC 10 Fly Check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Talon: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17 Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 +1 if thug is evil
Talon: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 +1 if thug is evil
Bite: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19 Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 +1 if thug is evil

Radnor Club: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

The room really doesnt allow for spells that may hit Radnor and Turac has no skills at shooting fire into melee... but he can help Radnor a little.

He casts Grease on the mans hands who stands north of Radnor.

With a quick move, Aran pops into a rage and steps forward, both hands on his sword, cutting down the man who has not been beseeched by Turac.

"Vile murderers. You will pay for this crime!"

Power Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
Damage: 1d8 + 6 + 6 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (7) + 6 + 6 + 1 + (6) = 26 The 1d6 is only applied if the enemy is evil.

Might be some AoO issues. If the bird moves in it has to stop in the first square, or it will draw an attack of opportunity. Still want to go ahead? It needs its own square as it is Small :(

Remember, they have been ready and waiting for several rounds as you bashed in a door.

Aran will take the AoO. At the time that he moved in, he would have had a 20 AC (Now 18 once raging).

OK tidying up a bit, pardon the sequencing

Pozuket inspires the party, goading them to greatness!

The two thugs act in Readied unison as Aranan breaches the room and starts pushing through.

Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
One of them striking home!
Damage 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

As he continues to push, one of them tries knifing away some more.
Attack 1d20 ⇒ 9 to no avail

The eagle flies in and furiously claws and pecks at the man, holy smiting away with a celestial light. The man succumbs to the onslaught.

Turac steps up to cast his spell but as his incantations are about to trigger, Aranan brings his steel to bear on the man that just stabbed him - running the fellow through.

At that moment, the young girl simply shoots a magical light at Aranan.
1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 Magic Missile.

Radnor is having none of it and steps in to club her - but the swing goes wide!

Back to proper sequence, pardon the mix around but figured it still made sense and cinema, otherwise the first person in blocks the way in - horrible map. Worst in PFS imo.

R2
Poz
Radnor
Turac
Enemy
Aranan

Radnor and his eagle close around the girl, and the eagle pecks at her, but Radnor not keen on hitting a girl misses again.

DC 10 Fly Check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
Talon: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13 Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Talon: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7 Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Bite: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Club: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8 Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Only the bite lands, inflicting a wound, but the caster remains standing!

Pozuket moves forward, to just inside the doorway, and points his crossbow at the girl who cast a spell at his friend, frowning. "That may not have been the wisest action you could have taken." Taking careful aim with the crossbow, he continues "Surrender, and start talking, or we'll treat you as we did your comrades."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26

Maintaining bardsong (2/18). Readied action to cast Ear-piercing scream (not shoot, as his actions would suggest) if she does any hostile action, including casting any spell.

The girl has zero interest in Pozukets offer (Diplomacy doesn't really work once the blows have begiun being exchanged) and is clearly intent on fighting on. He unleashes his ear piercing scream and she is knocked from her feet and deposited in an uncomfortable position on the floor, dying.

Turac waits for the men of violence to complete the inevitable.

"Anyone got any skill with healing? We'll want to find out what is going on I think," Radnor says looking to his fellow Pathfinders, knowing his own hamfists are poorly suited to the task.

Walking over, first to the fallen man that was in the room first and taking a gentle look at the man to see if he can be helped.

1d20 ⇒ 12

After a quick look, if the man still breathes, he will place a hand on him and heal him.

1d6 ⇒ 1

If he isn't alive, the heal will go to the caster who had attacked him.

"I'll do what I can..."

The man responds to the healing, but remains unconscious.

Poz shakes his head after the girl rejects his offer and dies for it. "Well, lets see if we can figure out who these thugs were."

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

The gnome begins checking the fallen for any form of identification - badges, notes, distinctive tattoos, etc.

Poz works out fairly quickly that the thugs and the sorceress all have a very piratical and nautical feel. The two bodies out front just look like hired guards, and the dead man in the room as you arrived has the good clothing of a merchant... or maybe a moneylender.

It is clear now that the people you just fought are Du Moire's henchmen, and the man at your feet, who bears a single stab wound to the throat, is almost certainly Lubor.

The other realisation is that the slayings were very very recent, and these thugs were in the process of robbing the place of valuables - and that some things have already been carted away.

Radnor withdraws a wand from his wristsheath, "We need to get one of these people talking and its going to be a lot easier to restrain a caster. I cannot use this but if none of you have anymore healing save the woman with this, then we can bind her hands, take away her spell components and find out what she knows."

Wand of Cure Light Wounds

She stirs awake, and as her eyes settle on you all they set in grim determination.