The Crucible of Freya (Inactive)

Game Master Grimmy

As Sam waits in the blind, he helps settle Lannet's cloak around him. He checks carefully to make sure the cloak is fitted and cinched just right. "I messed with the neck clasp a little--I think you had it tighter." After squinting through one eye from two different angles thirty feet back same seems satisfied.

"We can find me another one someday. I may have to save the scion of a rich elvish family."

Waiting for Sam was always boring, but in leaner times Sam learned patience and preparation often paid off. Crouched beside Lannet, Sam casually whispers in a sing-song voice to the hobbit:
"I see something you don't see, and the color of it is.....Purple."

Location: The Guardhouse, Crimmormere
Time: Dawn
Lighting: DIM light

Kevezyat, Damien, Lannet, Janna, and Samduc crouch in the bog behind the guardhouse, Damien's illusion masking their presence where the reeds were a little thin.

They see Vhillish Quarelwick come into sight in the lot behind the guardhouse.

Leoven arrives at the front entrance of the guardhouse and receives a warm welcome from the guards.

"A priest! You lot, get out here, it's a traveling priest! Oh father, we've all got a terrible ailment, we're puking up fire and brimstone. Pardon my language, father. But perhaps you could say a blessing and give us some relief from this malady?"

The other guards leave Jerrid's room and come up front to the reception area to see if Leoven can help them with their stomach ache.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19 Drat!

Damien whispers under his breath as Vhillish comes into view behind the guardhouse, "Punctual as always sergeant. Lets hope we can say the same for our contact..."

Vhillish stands in the lot, frostily watching Leoven interact with the ailing guardsmen and the surrounding locale both;

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

The sergeant's whispered appraisal is directed to Damien;

"Poor excuses for soldiers Lieuten.. Aye-eye! We have company!! Weathervane on the next roof... leave him to you sah?"

Vhillish you can't see Leoven, he's at the front door, you're in the back yard :D

The dwarf on the roof of the warehouse sets aside the spyglass, apparently satisfied that Vhillish has come alone. He takes out a birdcage and releases a pigeon into the air.

Everyone in the reeds can see the dwarf now that Vhillish pointed him out via message. He has an eye-patch and a heavy crossbow and a looking glass. He seems to have been looking around to make sure Vhillish came alone.

Damien makes note of the dwarf, "Not unexpected. We'll keep an eye on our friend the eyeballer."

He looks over his shoulder, "Sam, eyes on the warehouse roof. Think you can put a bolt in the dwarf if he decides to graduate from voyeur to real menace?"

"He may have been hired to make sure you aren't welshing on your deal. You make the payoff like agreed first. We gotta be careful not to kill some poor stooge hired to see that you kept your word. You shoot one dwarf and you might have a whole clan after you!!"

The half-elf rolls his eyes at Sam's defense of the dwarf, "Something in your ears son? I said "If". Of course our friend up there is probably just making sure things go smoothly, same as we are. If he should do something unfriendly, I want you to shoot him. Otherwise leave the poor bastard alone. He's got enough problems being a dwarf in piss hole of a village like this. And as long as we're on the topic of paying attention. The payoff was made. Last night. This is just a pickup...in theory."

Well, lets see... - Leoven examine the guards while keeping an eye open for any suspicios behaviour

Sense motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

Heal: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

I think that if you drink some tonic of ginger and lemon then ou will get better

[spoiler=DM Screen]
Corius Betray? + Bribe: 1d100 + 25 ⇒ (49) + 25 = 74
Corius Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
/spoiler]

In the back lot:

Captain Corius shuffles into the back lot from the side street, looking shifty. It looks like the pigeon was his signal to show up. He nods at Vhillish.

"Good, you came alone. The release papers are all filed. I'll remand the prisoner into your custody now."

He creeps into the guardhouse through the back door.

In the front reception area:

Leoven senses the three young guards are not up to anything suspicious. They seem appreciative of the priest ministering to their ailment.

In Jerrid's cell:

After the guards leave him alone to go see the priest in the front reception area, Jerrid hears the back door open. Captain Corius enters holding the jailers key.

"Looks like you've been bailed out, you little goblin! A deputy from Fairhill is in the back waiting for you. I recommend you get out of town in a hurry unless you have one hell of a disguise to wear. Wistus and his men had other plans for you, they'll be none too happy when they find you're gone. You'd better keep quiet about anything you heard in here. No one will listen to a little monster like you anyway. It'll be their word against yours. Come quickly now."

A poor excuse for a bedraggled, bruised and sickly gnome staggers out of the Captain's grasp into Vhillish's hands. He grips the sergeant's shoulder and walks away from the jailhouse at best speed.

"Thanks Vhillish. Where's my stuff?"

Captain Corius dumps Jerrid's pack unceremoniously on the ground of the dirt lot.

"Now get lost."

Crap I meant to write that earlier :)

"Goodbye captain." Jerrid hobbles off.

Captain Corius ducks down the alley. From the look of things atop the warehouse, the dwarf sniper has pulled out too.

What do you do next gang?

Once the guards are gone or no longer in the vicinity, and everyone is safe, Janna looks to the others, now can we have some breakfast?

small haul on the purse it seems, oh well at least i know I still got it.

Vhillish gives the Captain a curt nod, before assisting Jerrid toward where the others can provide support.

"Best we recall Leoven whot? The (ahem) good Captain wishes' our refound companion here out of town smartish... Slaver's will be looking for their pound of flesh I'll wager..."

The veteran keeps sharp looking for the dwarven sniper or other eyes that may be prying;

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Emerging from the reeds, Damien nods to the Deputy, speaking under his breath to Leo around the other side of the building, "Best get yourself out of there son. We've got the Gnome. Meet us back at the wheel, we can at least take a proper meal on the road with us."

Moving everyone away from the guard house and back to the Inn, he nods to Jerrid as they walk, "Welcome back. I'd advise a little more caution in future. This whole place is shady but I think I trust the authority least of anyone. We were lucky to get you back at all. What happened to Astor?"

Jerrid thinks for a minute, "Thank you Damien, they were going to take us to the duergar. Nobleman called Wistus runs it here from that jail. He said Astor had escaped, but the man was hurt. Me, I'm just happy to be out."

Sam say: "Welcome back Jerrid. Now before anyone marches off, I have a friend to introduce Jerrid to. We will see you at the inn in a few minutes."

Sam takes Jerrid to meet the potion lady.

Maybe Jerrid's stumbling walk and willingness to follow Sam shows how wretch the gnome is, but like a dog he does ....... follow.

At Iindriarog's Hut:

Iindriarog the half-orc witch squints at Samduc as he and Jerrid approach.

"No returns or refunds halfling. You got a good bargain on that tumbling belt and magical knife. Anyway that baton you traded is gone, I have handed it over to the historical society."

She shuffles her trinkets about on the counter.

Damien's expression goes flat at Jerrid's words, "The Duergar...well that makes us even luckier. We'd best put this whole place in our dust."

The veteran lets out a long suffering sigh as Sam grabs Jerrid, "Of course you do...just make it quick. We're clearing out as promptly as bloody possible."

Returning to the Wagon's wheel, Damien sees to getting breakfast for the group packed up, "Right. Grab anything left in your rooms, we're out in five."

Moving to the door, Damien takes a quick swig from the the Deputy's whiskey bottle to calm his thoughts and watches for Sam and Jerrid to return.

Lannet makes a dour face at the un-appetizing food served at the Wagon's Wheel.

"I miss Glarian. I miss Fairhill. When are Sam and Jerrid getting here? I'm sick of Crimmor. We need to get moving, they've already noticed Jerrid is missing by now."

Sam introduces Jerrid after speaking a pass phrase.

"Show us your wares. We may be able to buy some of your good potions too! This is our master alchemist. A capable mixer of liquid magic. Maybe even have a mission or two for exotic ingredients to send us on!"

bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Intro made, Sam indicates Jerrid.

Jerrid has a look around to see if he can spot a good potion or two.

Perception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15

The deep gnome quickly ferrets around in his sack and pulls out the gnoll herbs. "How about these as a sign of good faith? Taken off a shaman and you probably recognise their efficacy. Give us work and Sam and I will make good. What you got?"

Bluff 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

Iindriarog's Hut:
When Iindriarog hears the secret phrase, her demeanor changes.

"Ah. So you too are servants of Hecate? Well, then. Never mind these trinkets. They are only for superstitious fools. My real tonics and tinctures will serve you better my brethren."

She pulls out a case full of glass vials.

Janna is definitely not to happy with the pack and run idea. she gets what breakfast she can. and seems have a bit of a dour mood as she packs up.

she does not say anything at the present, but she definitely as some thoughts on her mind.

she tries to take what time they do have to try and enjoy a sit down breakfast.

Damien catches Janna sitting down out of the corner of his eye and comes over to her, "No time for that Ma'am. As soon as the half-pints get back we're out the door. The gnome's presence isn't exactly kosher anymore...remember?"

Noticing her foul mood, Damien's expression softens, "Something on your mind? We'll be on our way to your tower soon enough. Just need to make good on our other sawed-off fugitive first."

Sam smiles at Jerrid.
"I just wanted you to meet the nice potion lady. If we get some exotic ingredients, we may be able to sell them here."

Sam is ready to leave the town after a quick visit to his favorite inn to eat.

Janna takes a few more bites then looks up at Damien, Its not about the Tower. she pauses a bit deciding that now is not the time.

she simply grabs what she can Fine, lets go, wasting daylight.

she starts to head out, they can catch up if need be. She still seems a bit upset, but, it does not seem to be directed at Damien only.

Damien regards the sorceress for a moment before simply shrugging, "True enough."

Provided everyone else has finished grabbing gear by the time Sam and Jerrid return, he holds up a wrapped packet of food as Sam attempts to order breakfast, "Already covered son. Though you're more than welcome to catch up if you simply can't resist a sit down. We're putting boots to the road."

Nodding to the others, Damien shoulders his hammer and makes for the door.

I think Sam was going to a different tavern since the food at this one was rather bland...I could be wrong though

Bland is not the word... it's like Fort Save bad, Lannet wasn't kidding!

Really? Yikes. I assume having stayed here that's something we would have learned already? If so, I guess we nix the part about grabbing breakfast to go...

Jerrid spends a minute listening to the offers and descriptions and then pulls out a pile of gold and sees if Sam can stump up the last gold.

He offers 49 gold for a potion of cure light wounds.

Afterwards Jerrid tells Sam he is heading out of town and will meet everyone on the Fairhill road.

Stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (6) + 14 = 20

Yup, the food in Crimmor looks to be as bad as Lannet warned, best to take his advice and "stick to trail rations or you'll get the runs".

Before Jerrid and Sam leave Iindriarog...

The half-orc witch slides Jerrid's gold back to him. She leans in conspiratorially. She seems intrigued by their offer to do jobs for her.

"I have heard stories that there is a witch who lives in a cave near Eralion's Keep. They say she was blind and the staff maker crafted her a staff which gave her arcane sight. Find her cave, and bring me that staff and I promise we will have a prosperous business relationship my little friends."

Iindriarog gives Sam and Jerrid two potions each from her case, pro bono.

Ok Jerrid is outside town on the road to Fairhill, everyone ready to go?!

Let's go!

Janna never did eat, the smell was pretty bad, so she will move on, this time Damien saved Janna from severe stomach pains later on.

Inside the purse Janna stole:

To Eralion Keep?

Rewinding a little

The gnome's eyes narrow a bit at the offer, he is more used to threats and beatings than kindness.

"Blind witch. Cave by keep. Staff of magic sight. For you. Agreed. Can I have these Iindriarog?" Jerrid scoops the money away from view and points to the potions of bulls strength and minor healing.

"You want the cat's grace one to help your quickness and hiding? It would suit you."

By 4 o'clock in the afternoon you are just south of Eralion's Wood (Hex 0416) and you have been walking for 9 hours.

There is daylight left if you want to keep marching. Kevezyat says she can help relieve fatigue.

It is six miles to go to reach the fork in the road, and from there six miles to Fairhill or the Keep, either way.

You can reach the fork by 9PM. The sun sets at 6PM, 2 hours from now.

1d10 ⇒ 9

Edit: Previously at Iindriarog's Hut...

The half-orc witch nodded and slid Jerrid the requested potions.

"Fetch me that staff and there will be more rewards for you..."

If my internet do not get fixed today, I will proabbly be unable to post until monday

Ok guys let's camp here for the weekend and return with a vengeance monday when Leo and Kevezyat are able to post again.

RP over the weekend welcome and encouraged.

Vhillish alternates between trudging alongside Damien and keeping a beady on Lannet. Whilst close to his former commanding officer, the veteran mutters a concerned aside;

"First Duergar slavers and now blind cave witches sah! Niffs of "out of the olde frying pan and into the burning pyre", if you ask me whot?"

The Deputy eyes the group who've been on the march for 9 hours since Crimmor.

"Best we camp soon sah. This lot are road-weary and we need to plan our next steps whot-whot!?"

Damien nods to the gnome, his voice similarly low, "This lot attract trouble like flies to so much dung..."

With their early start, the former Lieutenant takes measure of the sun and nods, "Right you are Deputy, see if you can find us a decent spot back from the road?"