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A halfling sits on a chair pressed against the wall, his bare feet peeking out from beneath his black robes accented with white trim, the hairy feet tapping out an impatient rhythm. "Well," he says to the other agents gathered together to await the briefing on the new assignment, "where do you think they're sending us? Are some of you new? I'm Gwydion Flaxseed, by the way, and I wouldn't say that I'm extremely experienced either. Although now that I say that I'm not sure if that is reassuring or not." He frowns at his own misspoken and ill-worded introduction for a moment but then goes back to tapping his toes idly.
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A Dwarf who has a lot a hair that seems to gather in dreads and wearing loose fitting robes that look dirtier than they actually are, sits on the ground crossed-legged inspecting those around him looking for a friendly face. Once the Halfling is done talking he gives a toothy grin (although he is missing a few), "Haha well met friend! The names Chewwy or thats what my friends call me but what the heck we all belong to the Society so we are all friends in some way right! I have traveled a bit but wouldn't call myself experienced."
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"We would not be Pathfinder's at all if we did not have experiences that were....ah... useful to our employers." A very-heavy Kelishite accent while sliding into a chair on the right side of the room. "Experience is different to us all, but it is our experiences that bring us to the rock in the center of the world after all. It is simply how long we have been 'Pathfinders' that perhaps marks the difference now." The head dress of the deep Kelish desert hides most of her hair and ears, in a plain cream color, the lace is left off the face revealing the clean cut lines of elvish heritage stand out on the face of the woman speaking.
She sits down a basic pack obviously non-magical by the soft clinking sounds with in it, and a rapier tied to the side. "Amestri al-Midean formerly of Khardaji Bay, trader and traveler of the Golden Path, and 'friend' if we are amenable."
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A dark skinned elf looks up from a book she was reading and pushes a pair of spectacles up her nose.
"Ah, greetings. My name is Prudence Silvermoon. I find myself quite inexperienced as well. That is to say inexperienced in I suppose you could call it field work. To this point I would discribe my experience as primarily academic. I anticipate this to be substantially more violent, though no less cutthroat."
She chucked at her own attempt at a joke.
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A fairly well built half-orc comes in giving everyone appraising glances, chooses a seat with it's back to the wall and sit down, and says, Hello, I'm Gene. He reaches into has pocket and puts on a pair of glasses and his backpack and pulls out a bit of string and a needle and begins mending a piece of clothing.
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A young Mwangi man, barely older than a boy, bows before you. His armor shines in glossy black, a circular birthmark with three equidistant spokes, each the rough shape of blade, lies upon the back of his left hand.
"I am lucky to be among such widely experienced adventurers such as yourselves. I am Toric, a lucky disciple of Calistria and here to serve you in whatever capacity I may. May fortune favor us all."
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Your boots squash with fetid water as you plod through the Puddles district. A thick fog hangs in the air, seeming almost to caress the flesh with an unnatural chill. As you stand outside the Soggy Piper in a foot and a half of brackish brine, you try to recall what was so damned important to demand your presence in the half-flooded slum during Absalom’s rainy season. You remember your meeting at the Lodge just a few hours earlier with your Venture-Captain, .
A bear of a man, he motioned you into the meeting hall with a casual wave of his grizzled hand. The human captain outweighs most of Absalom’s half-orcs, and though a layer of beefy blubber coats his frame, those of you who have tangled with him in the Lodge sparring ring know that beneath this thin veneer of fat lies nothing but solid, steely sinew. Adril’s wild beard wags to the ponderous shake of his massive head as he examines a scrap of ancient parchment on the table before raising his eyes to greet your gaze and speaking:
“Come in then, friends, and thank you for answering my summons so swiftly. The society is in need. An old and quite penniless historian, a bespectacled wag-beard by the name of Yargos Gill has recently made a discovery in an old archive that we have a great interest in obtaining: an ancient codebook, left behind in the wake of one of Taldor’s many failed attempts at invasion. This several-hundred-year-old text would prove an excellent addition to our collection, and must be preserved.
“Yargos makes his home in ‘The Puddles,’ Absalom’s poorest district, suffering from a well-known reputation as a haven for lowlifes. Following an earthquake ten years ago, parts of the Puddles now rest below sea level, resulting in frequent and untimely flooding. Those who can afford not to live there—don’t. “The district is the stomping ground of pimps, harlots, addicts, knifers, and hoards of unseemly derelicts. It’s never been a kind place, but recent reports reveal some new nameless terror on her waterlogged streets. Several persons claim to have seen cloaked, skeletal-like figures marching through an unnatural fog. Ill tidings indeed. Tracking down Yargos is now a priority—--lest some yellow-toothed thug cut him down, or one of these strange wraiths carry him beyond the pale. Find him, fellow Pathfinders, and find the codebook. Your exploits will be recorded in the Chronicles if you succeed.”
The memory fades as a fresh deluge of cold seawater rounds a bend in the lane and assaults your knees. After searching for Yargos at his favorite eatery, the Soggy Piper, you learned you just missed him. According to the Piper’s staff, a gang of dangerous young tattooed toughs arrived ahead of you. They grabbed Yargos and several of his friends from their dinner table and dragged them to a nearby cliff at the edge of the Puddle District. The watch was called, but they will arrive too late, as they often do in the Puddles, when they bother to venture there at all. It is early evening, the first Wealday of the month of Desnus, an old man is about to face some awful fate at the sea cliff known as Torsen’s Maw, and you are no closer to finding the codebook Adril sent you for.
~~~~~
As you approach the cliff, you see six brash young toughs covered with tattoos of vicious, snarling dogs prodding four terrified older men off the edge of a cliff into the sea. The prisoners are shackled together in a line with heavy chains, which shall surely drag them to the sea floor in short order should they tumble from the cliff’s edge into the churning waters below! The thugs are armed with saps, spiked gauntlets, and crossbows.
Round 1!
Gene
Thugs (Cyan & Pink)
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric
Thugs (Yellow & Gray)
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners
Round 2
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Seeing interlopers coming, the Cyan thug grabs Yargos and throws the old man over the cliff's edge before taking a step towards the newcomers!
Yargos and the others fall, dragged down by the weight of the others...but the last man in line - Samchar (cyan) - grabs onto a sturdy plant root at the edge of the cliff! But who knows how long his retired-watchman-arms will be able to hold up the weight of four men in chains?!?!
The Pink thug rushes forward at the half-orc, swinging his gang's unique type of spiked gauntlet (called "Dog claws") at Gene!
Round 1!
Gene
Thugs (Cyan & Pink)
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric
Thugs (Yellow & Gray)
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners
Round 2
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"Oh dear!" Gwydion shouts as he rushes forward, thinking of anything that might help the poor chained men now dangling from the cliff. The halfling pauses to reach over his shoulder to his adventuring pack, unhooking the coiled rope dangling from the side. "Clear me a path, Gene! And Toric!" he shouts. "But... someone else should probably pull them up," he adds, looking at his short arms and their underdeveloped muscles.
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"Hang on there!"Amestri moves forward towards the cliff, passing the Halfling. "He's a bit smaller than a camel, but I can get that around him, if I may?"
Rope in hand, Amestri will spin in about for a moment creating a loop at the end, and tossing it in the direction Samchar (cyan). ~See lots of people with sharp point objects... IGNORE THE ROPE!
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Gwydion and Amestri tag-team and miraculously, the half-elf manages to snag the lasso around Samchar's head! Prudence tugs with all her might but isn't able to help drag the old men up over the cliff's edge, while Toric blesses the party!
The Gray thug moves forward to attack Toric, also leaving an opening for the Yellow thug to charge Gene!
Round 1!
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners
Round 2
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink)
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray)
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Chewyy is unable to get a firm grip on the rope!
The Blue and Green thugs grab their loaded crossbows and fire at the people trying to pull on the rope - Amestri and Chewyy!
vs. Amestri.
vs, Chewyy.
But both shots go wide!
Samchar cries out as his muscles burn in agony, clutching the rope with one hand and his clump of roots in the other. Help!...I'm slipping...don't know...if I can last much...longer!"[/b[
[b]Round 2!
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink)
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray)
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners (1 Round dangling)
Round 3
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Gene's attack goes barely wide, and the Pink thug responds by trying to attack Gene in turn!
Meanwhile the Cyan thug draws his crossbow, takes a step forward, and fires at the person who threw the rope in the first place (Amestri)!
Round 2!
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray)
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners (1 Round dangling)
Round 3
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink)
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Toric draws his mace to defend himself, and calls upon the might of Calistria to dissuade his attacker's blade.
Using touch of chaos on the Gray thug
You can imbue a target with chaos as a melee touch attack. For the next round, anytime the target rolls a d20, he must roll twice and take the less favorable result. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
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- KO rounds, Blind/Stunned rounds, then Stunned 1 round.
- KO rounds, Blind/Stunned rounds, then Stunned 1 round.
The Yellow and Pink thugs collapse to the ground with matching thuds, their eyes rolling back in their heads.
The Gray thug's eyes spin a bit, but then she swings at Toric!
But thanks to the chaotic powers at play, he misses wide!
...and...somehow by invoking Abadar???...the bard and halfling cleric manage to pull not one but two of the chain-bound prisoners up onto the cliff, leaving only two still dangling!
Round 2!
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners (1 Round dangling)
Round 3
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink)
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray)
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Chewyy (who forgot that he gets a +1 from Bless) is barely able to grapple the Green thug!
The Blue thug reloads his crossbow and takes a shot at the wizard (Prudence) who just KO'd two of his friends!
The Green thug tries to punch Chewyy with his Dog Claw while grappled!
Both thugs miss as the prisoners continue to hang on, the two on dry land trying to help Amestri and Gwydion pull their friends up.
Round 3!
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink) Pink out of commission for 7 rounds
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray) Yellow out of commission for 7 rounds
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green)
Prisoners (2 Rounds dangling, 2/4 on dry land)
Round 4
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Gene comes in with a slice that hits the Blue thug in the neck, causing him to drop immediately, blood gushing from the wound!
The Cyan thug drops his crossbow as he takes a step forward, swinging his Dog Claw at Gene!
Round 3!
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray) Yellow out of commission for 7 rounds / Gray Grappled
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green) Blue bleeding out
Prisoners (2 Rounds dangling, 2/4 on dry land)
Round 4
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink) Pink out of commission for 6 rounds
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Toric's blow goes wide even as Prudence knocks out two more thugs! Amestri's prayers are answered as she manages to get a third of the four men up on the cliff - only Yargos Gill remains dangling!
The last remaining thug cries out as he stumbles a step forward, "You'll never stop us! War Dogs to the death, man!" as he swings again at Toric!
(mods hidden)
Round 3!
Chewyy
Thugs (Blue & Green) Blue bleeding out / Green out of commission for 7 rounds
Prisoners (3 Rounds dangling, 3/4 on dry land)
Round 4
Gene (-2 hp)
Thugs (Cyan & Pink) Cyan/Pink out of commission for 9/6 rounds
Prudence
Gwydion
Amestri
Toric (-3 hp)
Thugs (Yellow & Gray) Yellow out of commission for 7 rounds
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Chewyy knocks the last thug unconscious as Gene, Gwydion, and the others pull Yargos up to safety!
On the thugs, you recover 6 "Dog Claws" (MW Spiked Gauntlets), 6 Saps, 6 Light Crossbows, ~55 Bolts, 6 Torches, 6 Tindertwigs, 6 Leather Armor, and each of them has a magical "Programmed Tattoo" of a Nessian Warhound pack fighting among themselves. You also have a minute or two for any healing that you require, as well as to tie up the thugs (who will not cooperate or respond to interrogation, saying that they're more afraid of their boss than you).
The chains are rusty and easily broken (none of the thugs carries a key) with a DC 15 Strength check that you'd be able to make taking a few minutes and a bit of leverage. The dinner companions return to their homes, but Yargos presses you with a wild tale as you walk with him in the direction of the Grand Lodge.
"Pathfinders, thank Desna that fortune sends you my way! Not just the saving-my-life thing, for which I am so very grateful, but also because of the Silent Tide!
"Eight hundred years ago, a hidden armada of ships from Taldor floated off the coast of the Isle of Kortos like a thousand locusts, waiting for the signal to invade Absalom. The plan was simple, but deadly: When the misty weather of Desnus took hold, a fifth column of infiltrators known as Black Echelon would weaken strategic defense points and destroy Absalom’s warning system from within. Once their bloody mayhem was complete, the hidden saboteurs planned to signal the fleet, welcoming them to lay siege to a city now brought to its knees!
"There were prearranged signals using fireworks for each phase of the offensive. But when the mists of Desnus descended, the prearranged signal lights never appeared. Unbeknownst to the hidden strike teams, the leaders of the Black Echelon infiltration cell were discovered and assassinated by brave heroes of Absalom. The signal lanterns lay dark, and the rest of Black Echelon sat idle. Several hours later, the fleet’s hiding place was discovered. A quick counterattack by Absalom’s navy ambushed the would-be invasion force and Taldor’s armada was destroyed to the last mast. In the coming weeks, Absalom’s constabulary rooted out the remaining hidden members of Black Echelon and put every last one to the sword."
"The failed invasion mission, called the Silent Tide, would have amounted to little more than a cautionary footnote in a textbook of naval battles save for one crucial detail: Prior to entering Absalom, each member of the Black Echelon cell swore an ancient oath, known as the Binding Word. The Black Echelon pledged to fulfill their duties, no matter the barrier, no matter the cost. And apparently the power of the Binding Word compels these deadly saboteurs from beyond the pale!
"When the Pathfinders originally turned down my offer to sell them the codebook, I...er...I might have tried out one of the signals on a lark... Imagine my horror when skeletal Black Echelon operatives began to emerge from the mists and head out into the city! Even worse, the marines of the massive armada that now rest on the sea floor also swore the Binding Word! Once Black Echelon finishes its final task, the invasion force will rise and the Silent Tide will roll across the city, bringing death to all of Absalom!
"I came to the Puddles district so I could throw the codebook into the sea to abort the Silent Tide, but I had to stop off at the tavern to avoid the worst of the rain...that's where the young crime lord named Nessian and his War Hounds found me! One of Nessian's spies overheard me telling Samchar and the others about the codebook, so he stole it and was going to throw me into the sea instead!
Nessian gloated that he intends to use Black Echelon to sabotage Absalom's key infrastructures and then blackmail the city for a hoard of gold in exchange for the abort code! You have to stop him before it's too late!"
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"I guess some interesting questions then for you. First being where is this codebook currently?" Amestri asks as she coils back up the rope returning it to Gwydion Flaxseed in pristine condition.
"And I'm guessing ye isn't smart enough to have a copy on paper or in memory of said abort code do you?"
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Yargos shakes his head. "My memory is sort of frazzled what with the being almost thrown into shark-infested waters thing! I don't know where Nessian is now either! Oh what have I done?!?!"
Just then, you spot a series of red flashes - six of them to be precise - flares that go up into the air above the center of the city and then fade into darkness.
Yargos curses under his breath and stammers as he tries to remember...
"Nessian! He's signaling Black Echelon - the undead! Let me see, six flashes of red...six flashes of...I remember that one! By the gods! Absalom's central granary! Nessian has sent those monsters to poison the city's granary! I don't know how but we have to stop them! We're the only ones who know what's happening!" The old man is practically hopping up and down and waving his arms at you as he takes off at an unsteady run.
Should you follow him, you arrive about 5 minutes later just as an eerie cold fog has descended on the streets, limiting vision beyond the building you stand in front of - Absalom's two-story tall central granary.
The dead bodies of two members of Absalom's First Guard lay motionless in pools of their own blood in front of the doors which are no longer locked. Just inside, the body of a third guard sprawls. The inner doors to the left appear shut, while the inner doors to the right rest slightly ajar.
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Gwydion nods in understanding as the poor man struggles to remember the details in the heat of the moment. At the flashing of the lights and Yargos' flash of inspiration about the code, he says, "Well, at least you've remembered that. Sounds like we'd better get to the granary fast and be prepared for undead."
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At the granary and at the sight of the dead guard, Gwydion sighs and whispers, "We're too late for that poor fellow. But hopefully not too late for Absalom. Quickly, inside. Let's find them before they can poison anything."