Flaxseed Lodge (PFS1)

Game Master Redelia

"sounds like quit a feat"
he takes another sip of his drink.

Madlock leans back in his chair a bit
"what a god mystery wouldn't do"

Two grey-skinned individuals walk into the lodge, one carrying a large musket, the other in an intricate blue dress.

"I'm tellin ya 'sis", says the male with the musket, "these guys pay good coin! Not only did I get to explore the river kingdoms, but we retrieved a fancy sickle. And THEN they handed me 500gp!" He turns to the half-orc behind the counter. "Hey there again Luurg. I'm getting my sis here involved with the society. Can you make her one of those fruity concoctions you've been making as of late?"

"IF these people really do pay well, I'll consider joining your little fantasy squadron. But, they have to know I'm...possessed. Maybe they can cure it?" Nia flourishes her blue dress before taking the recently made drink. Her eyes flash in amazement as she takes a drink. "Oh Pharasma, that was delicious! Is that fig?" She finishes the drink as quickly as possible before demanding another. "If these people pay well, I'm sold. Their alcohol is amazing!"

Luurg curls his lip into a smile "Hey dare, no problemo." He slides it across and leans over. "Dey pay gud, real gud. Dey send you wid friends too, beats werkin' solo n stuff. But some of da werk harder den udders. Some of da friends better den udders!" He chuckles, holding his quaking stomach as he does.

A man walks in, wearing a green mask with two large white eyes. He has a cloak, and a tight-fitting dark green tunic. One hand has a glove with the fingers cut off, while the other has a metal gauntlet. He walks over to the bar and sits down.

"Just some ale, please." he said. "Oh, and someone should call the town guard. I caught a guy trying to mug someone outside. Don't worry, I took care of it."

Madlock gets up, guzzles his drink and walks out.

"What can you make that hurts?" Inquires a statuesque human nun as she emerges at last from a shadowy corner - actually, it takes a moment to be sure she's human (and even then...): She wears more heavy barbed chains than she does cloth, and in spite of her distinctively Chelaxian features, her skin is literally black, as though she's been thoroughly marinated in ash.

"Fruity drinks no hurt. Dey taste gud. Maybe I can make dem wid spiky fruitz ok?" He pulls out an odd yellow fruit with spikes and tosses it into the blender with a thumbs up.

The man in the mask perks up when the half-orc mentions fruit juice. "I didn't know you had that. Forget the ale then."

"Oh, no, no, no, no--NO! THAT'S TOTALLY MY SCHTICK! You just turn around, leave, and find yourself your own theme there bucko!" says a lithe elf woman in a harlequin's motley and makeup.

The masked man turns, with a confused look on his face (Somehow, the eyes on the mask resize to his facial expression underneath. Weird). "Wait, I-I'm confused. Are you talking to me, or the hurty drink lady? 'Cause I just wanted some fruit juice." he says.

"Oh, I'm talkin' to you alright. See this sign over my head." she quickly draws a crude sign made out of a stool-top. "It says 'Madcap!' Except I put an extra 'd' in it because I'm really mad *hic* and a little tipsy. Now you go and change that nome d'plume of yours to something else--Bad Cap, Mad Cow, Mod Cape, whatever, or I'm gonna show you a real maelstrom! I mean you're not even wearing a cap! *hic*"

He shrugs. "Yeah, I've kinda been thinking about getting a different name. Seems a little... off-putting."

"And I want your twin over there to change his name too! *hic*" she says pointing vaguely over to MM's right. Then she falls over like a plank. None of that putting her hands up to fend off the floor or anything, just--*THUD!* And a some jingling.

I'm glad you weren't trying to claim a monopoly on clown schticks, or else the High Fool would have to run in during a break in his Society game and object!

"Hi Fool. Heh." *THUD* {jingle}

"Did somebody say 'high'? You gonna eat those nachos, 'Malestorm' was it? Kinda like a 'Sharknado' right, but made out of guys? That's a classic movie, man. It's sorta the secret backdoor sequel to Jaws II! So are you all part of the Legion of Laughter or something? Say man, you wouldn't mind buying me a beer would you? I'm a little parched because of all of the nachos."

"First, it's maelstrom, and I think I might change it, and second, what on Golarion is a "mood vye"?"

"What did I say?" the strange man looks at the masked man with puzzled look on his face. Then he delves the pockets of the bathrobe he is wearing for a cigar. "Sorry man, sometimes I get these flash-forwards you see. You ever hear of the Seattle Seven? Never mind man. It's not important. Nah, keep it man, the name I mean. It's cool.... though Mod Cape does have a sort of, you know man, 'mode cape' vibe goin' on. And you've got a cape right there, man! It's like that guy with rose darts and nice suit and mask, man. You know the one. It's got style. Say you wouldn't happen to have a light, wouldja man? After-nacho smoke."

The dude abdies

The gnome looks up from his frost beverage and considers the Madcaps. "Ya know, this whole brew-ha-ha could be avoided ifin' ya jest married each other. It's crazy, I know, but with name's like yers, its a wee more'n possible that it would work out well fer the both of ya. Just my two coppers." He hoists up his daiquiri and offers, "Cayden's blessing to the future bride n' groom...or not. Just lookin' fer a reason to make a toast."

"Thanks, but I'm gonna need another beer here."

The Madcap Maelstrom wrote:

[dice=Wisdom check]1d20-1

dangit, I kind of wanted to fail.
I'm pretty sure you can always choose to fail a check.

Ah, fair point. I fail the check.

The masked man seems slightly taken aback by the gnome's comment. "Umm..." After a moment, however, he starts looking around. "Hey, anyone else feel like they're being watched?"

[dice=Wisdom check]1d20-1

dangit, I kind of wanted to fail.

I'm pretty sure you can always choose to fail a check.

"If the crew's like this," Nia says, gesturing to the room, "I'll have to take some time to think about it. Even though this drink was amazing....." She guzzles the remainder of her drink and tries to sneak out.

"Please, they aren't all drunkards. But, I do agree, I think it's high time I take my leave and, well, leave this...odd bunch alone." Markus says in response as he too attempts to leave.

"Hey, who're you callin' a 'bunch'? Why the nerve 'o some people!" He holds his hand up to no one in particular with fingers wide, "See this?" Then he slowly closes his hand to make a fist, "Now there's a 'bunch' for ya. 'N ya be knowin' what else?" He brings his other hand around, also balled up into a fist. "I got another bunch right here!" He looks at his hand and looses a little steam over the next moment. "Well, it's a left actually. Not suren ifin it matters much. Wait a sec...nope, got nuthin'. Hey look, Luurg gave me a tiny umbrella!"

The Madcap Maelstrom wrote:

dangit, I kind of wanted to fail.

I'm pretty sure you can always choose to fail a check.

"Nice marmot, man." the Dude says of the gnoll.

Make a DC 8 Wisdom check; if you FAIL....

[Unconscious] {jingle}

"Hey man, you gonna get that?"

EbonFist wrote:

The Madcap Maelstrom wrote:

dangit, I kind of wanted to fail.

I'm pretty sure you can always choose to fail a check.

"Nice marmot, man." the Dude says of the gnoll.

"Is that still in there? I thought I got it all," he asks, picking at a bit of furry meat stuck between his sharp teeth with a long, sharp nail.

Professor Kal Agari steps in and sees Madcap on the floor, Ebon picking out his teeth, and what looks like an ale too many. "Oh, ho ho. It appears I have arrived just in time for the party!" He pulls up a seat and gets himself a tall frothy ale.

"Pardon me, but this old man is looking for a job. Anyone know where a scholarly gent could find a gig, as the kids these days call it?"

Luurg looks around, the spiky fruity drink still not claim. With a shrug he claims it for himself as the chaos continues around the bar "Why you all look mostly same. Must be twinsies. Bossmen sure do like hiring twinsies here."

He finishes the drink and heads back to his hammock, urinates in the potted plant it hangs from, then climbs back into it for a nap. Seconds later a low, rumbling rolls out from his mouth as he passes out.

"Oh great. Now it's snoring. At least that's better than making those fruity pieces of junk." Jordan then jumps over the bar, grabs a fancy whiskey, and pours himself a "shot" in a wine glass.

Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28

He manages to quite stealthily place a platinum piece in Luurg's belt pouch before settling down at the table across from Professor Kal. "If you're looking for a job, you've come to the right place. Just chill here for a bit and SOMEBODY will walk in with a request." He puts his feet up before taking a large swig. "Whew, that's some good stuff. That's what I do. Works like a charm. The bunch around here typically makes it a bit easier to wait. Though, the passed out drunk ones make me worry. I've watched a few people not wake up from those."

The masked man chuckles, then stops. "Oh, great, I'm late!" He then runs out, stepping around the unconscious other Madcap.

Luurg wakes up with a start, nearly falling out of his hammock "Gotta go gotta go!" He grabs up his bed and backpack and races outside, hip checking Jordan on the way past. "Oopsie."

"Well he was an excitable fellow. I suppose he found a job?" The professor asks while looking at his seat neighbor Jordan.

Massaging the soon-to-be bruise on his shoulder, he winces. "Yeah. Guess so." He casts CLW on himself to stop the bruising before jumping up and heading out. "I have as well. Should be my last one. Haha!" He quickly scurries down the hallway. I'm going to have the BEST Mid-Absalom apartment EVER! Little does he know I'm gearing him up for Eyes of the Ten. MWahahahaha!

Perhaps the most beautiful man you've ever seen walks in as Jordan exits the bar. Whistling briefly to catch everyone's attention, he places a notice on the board before calling out, "If there's any fresh Seekers here like young Jordan there, the Decemvirate has a special request for you." Bowing gracefully to those assembled, he exits stage right.

Looking for two more lvl 12 characters for Eyes of the Ten! More information can be found here!

With all of the subtlety of a injured bull stampeding through a pottery vendors stall a woman clad in a full set of Gray Maiden plate enters the lodge and makes her way to a bench.

An elvish man in shades of green and brown leans against a wall in a shadowy corner of the Lodge. Arms folded across his chest, he observes the gathering with aloof curiosity. His demeanor is somber, and his visage stern. An impressive bow and several bladed weapons are sheathed across his back, on his belt, and to his thighs... obviously, this is a man well trained and prepared for battle.

A follower of Sarenrae peeks his head into the room looking around for a momentary place to sit and drink his berry wine.

“So this is the famous Flaxseed Lodge!”

The broad shouldered man planted his feet and placed his hands on his hips. A smile formed on his face as he looked around the main hall. A faded amethyst cloak obscured the blue and white uniform of the Steel Falcons.

“Not too shabby,” the man said. He ran one hand through his graying hair - a bad habit he had long since given up on breaking - and stepped toward one of the empty seats at the bartop. The man dropped his pack next to the stool and undid his sword belt. He set the blade, scabbard and all, against the footrest beside his stool before finally taking a seat.

“Name’s Khoda,” he said to no one in particular, “I figured that if I didn’t finally leave Almas, this ol’ Mugget boy was gonna end up having lived and died no more’n a handful of miles from where he was born.” Khoda’s sentence was punctuated by the sound of a buckler (stylized to look like a golden eagle) clanking against the bartop.

“Oops,” Khoda chuckled and removed the buckler, setting it on top of the rucksack. “Anywho, anyone know of any VC’s that are looking for fresh faces?”

A gnome with a comically large hat and a platypus perched on his shoulder walks in.

“Barkeep, a mug of your finest ale. And some water for my friend here.”

With that he finds an empty table.

The elvish bladesman in the shadows furrows his brows at the loud human. He shakes his head for a moment, but says nothing.

After briefly glancing at the quieter human and the interesting gnome, the warrior continues to observe the gathering more generally.

Every so often, he glances at the front door. Perhaps he is expecting to meet someone.

“So this is the famous Flaxseed Lodge!”

The broad shouldered man planted his feet and placed his hands on his hips. A smile formed on his face as he looked around the main hall. A faded amethyst cloak obscured the blue and white uniform of the Steel Falcons.

“Not too shabby,”

"Sorry. I've been meanin' to shabby it up a bit." says the Publican smoothing out the germs on the bartop into a glossy veneer with his filthy wet rag.

A gnome with a comically large hat and a platypus perched on his shoulder walks in.

“Barkeep, a mug of your finest ale. And some water for my friend here.”

With that he finds an empty table.

"Sure." he says to the platypus not seeing the gnome behind the tall bar. "You one of them 'Nagaji'? I always pictured your folk as more reptilian, and less marsupial for some reason."

Andy walks into the bar, a big smile on his face as usual, and walks over to the mission roll call board...."Let's see...Jing Kwan and "Tiny"...nope. Phosdlon...nope. Amerel...nope. Thorur Gundur...nope. Vladamir Dufau...nope. Kam Yuen...nope. Last but not least, Andy Applebottom....nope. Oh well, maybe tomorrow."...and then he turns and walks back out.

HELLO

A tall Slender half elf enters the lodge, wayfinder hanging from his belt alongside a long stylistic blade with a tattered hilt.

He pauses for a moment in the doorway and takes a deep breath as he look around the lodge.

"Ahhh the flaxseed" he says in a confident tone, "How I have missed you".

He proceeds to the bar and takes a seat "That recruitment board looks a bit bare for the time of year....has the Society stopped recruiting here?"