The Moar Core Tour (Inactive)

Game Master BretI

Tilting her head slightly, Iovo admires the axe. “Very nice axe, extremely useful against golems and constructs. I doubt we will have to deal with anything like that in the embassy though.”

Looking up from his weapon to the dwarf, she comments “You must have been at this a bit longer than we have. Our last mission we had some problems because we didn’t have magical weapons.”

"It ain't been magical long. Got it soup'd up after one of my last protection details. A weird one, keepin' a sleep walkin' numbskull from gettin' into too much trouble."

He shakes his head and lets out a low whistle "So you got an idea of what to expect from the likes of this old bag of bones, what kinda strange crap can I expect out of the likes of the rest of ya?" Besides the normal hair-brained Elf junk anyhow.

"Wouldn't that somewhat depend on what you consider strange?"

She pauses a moment before continuing.

"I'm pretty good with locks and traps. I only dabble in magic." Pointing to Damiar and Phinellippa she adds "They are both much more skilled in the arcane."

Gesturing to herself and Damiar, she adds "We come from the Elvish homeland. Had a gnomish tutor who taught us a broad variety of topics, but that is fairly common. We joined the Pathfinder Society because we thought it would be a fun way to see this world."

"My sister is quite good at the social skills. I received some basic training, but really don't quite have the talent for it."

"What else would you like to know?"

"Well, I guess some of the important stuff: can ya take a punch? Can ye avoid one? Can ye climb, jump, or swim if needed? Oh, and if ya only could take one to yer own funeral which would it be: ale, mead, stout, lager, or water?" He raises his gray eyebrows and awaits an answer.

No way I'd say wine, everyone knows Elves can't get away from WINE!

Ticking them off on her fingers, she answers “Not really, although I have taken hits a couple of times so someone else in the team could do what needed doing.”

She touches her second finger. “Sometimes, but once again others are better at that.”

Moving to the third finger. “Only if easy, yes, and only in calm waters.”

Moving to the forth finger “Think I would prefer something a little different.” She pauses to consider a few moments before adding “Maybe a fuzzy navel or firefly lemonade — something that looks and tastes interesting.”

Perplexed that he even offered it as a choice, she adds “Water would seem really inappropriate at such an event.”

Phinellippa scribbles on some parchment.

"I had adamantine as an entry, but you've added new connotations! Wonderful!"

A third elf appears from around a corner, his face sober and his emerald eyes seeming to take in everything. "Looks clear," he says quietly, glancing in the direction of the house guard to ensure the man isn't eavesdropping.

After a moment, he deliberately moves his gaze to the dwarf, and for a split second, a look of disappointment appears on his face — it's there for scarcely a moment before being replaced by the studied emotionlessness of before. "Hello. You must be the new Pathfinder," he observes. "I am Rees."

Ironshanks offers up another powerful handshake "Aye, wanna see mah credentials?" He responds with a not so clever quip.

"Name's Ironshanks of Clan Magee." He raps his fist against his breastplate in a personal Clan salute it seems. "Who else we waitin' on fer this party?"

Rees leans over and whispers something in the dwarf's ear.

His face betrays a hint of sympathy as he pats the dwarf on his broad back in a rather human gesture.

As Ironshanks introduces himself and makes conversation with the elves, Garif pays no mind, his attention clearly fixated on their new teammate’s axe. Tipping his head to one side as if trying to look at the weapon in different reflections of light, he takes a step closer to Ironshanks, then actually sniffs the air near its blade. ”What, adamantine, you say? It is a glory above all things, is it not?” He circles Ironshanks to look at the blade with a different perspective, seeming to forget that there is another person involved in this little dance as he focuses on the metal of the axe. ”Looking at it, and from its scent, I think the ore that produced this adamantine may be from the mine high on Mount Onik, in the south of the Five Kings. Its shimmer as it moves matches what I’ve seen of that ore, which of course in only found in thin sulfide layers in certain mafic igneous bodies of rock…”

Garif looks up, realizes he’s only a few inches from Ironshanks’ face, and says, ”Oh, uh, sorry about that. I am Garif, Garif Stonetoe, of the Five Kings Mountains.” His bald pate, as he backs it up to more socially acceptable distance, is blocky and rather pale, resembling a small, weathered boulder as much as a head. He’s much less heavily armed and armored than Magee, wearing only armor of cured animal hide, with a simple warhammer hanging from his belt. He runs a hand over his thick grey and white beard and says absentmindedly, ”Oh, and this is Nico.” A large cat, looking much like a mountain lion, but with an entirely black coat save for a patch of white on his chest, does not deign to engage in the introductions going around, and Garif thinks back on what’s been said around him.

”I guess you’re not much for cats?” he says to Ironshanks. ”Well, Nico found me, so I didn’t have a choice in the matter, but he’s been pretty useful in our adventures, when he’s not about to get himself killed. As for what you can expect from me, well, I’m not like our stealthy elf companions, as you might guess. I have learned to use the power of the natural world to do useful magic, and have trained Nico to protect me in a fight, though I often have to wake him first.”

With a sigh, Garif ponders their assignment and adds, ”And they will keep sending me on these jobs that involve parties and sneaking about and such. Does the Society not need a map of all of the mafic deposits between the Isger Pass and Coralesian, to produce more adamantine? I do hope our next mission involves something like that.”

Damiar comes back from the quartermaster's office with some items to help with the mission. "Oh hello! You must be our new agent!" Damiar holds out a hand to shake. "I'm Damiar! That's my sister, Iovo! I hope everyone has made you feel welcome! I'm sure that Garif is excited to have another dwarf around after being around all of us elves and gnomes!" Then she grins to Iovo. "So I finally picked up that magic bow that I have been wanting, and the quartermaster threw in a five pack of invisibility scrolls since he said you'd already grabbed the See Invisible ones!"

In other words, I spent 2 prestige on it.

“Oh, good! Glad you got the bow enchanted!”

Nodding, she adds “The scroll should work well too.”

As Ironshanks claims the first Elixir, Iovo asks “Who wants the other one?” She looks towards Garif and Rees as the most likely to take them.

She hands the two scrolls to Damiar and Phinellippa, explaining “I have one of these in memory already. With each of you having a scroll, we should be set.”

“Well, sounds like we have most of a plan. Should we head to the embassy?”

"Yes! Too bad we're not going as guests this time!" Damiar sighs. "They don't serve you appetizers or flirt with you if you're disguising yourself as one of the help!"

"I'll take an elixir,Iovo," Garif responds. "I probably make as much noise as Ironshanks here, even without metal armor. And Nico can sneak just fine if there's a need."

At Damiar's excitement about the party, Garif sighs and gives his beard another tug, then quietly says, "Hurrah, a party..."

“It is too bad we will not be guests at this one. On the bright side, we hopefully will not be anywhere near as disruptive as the uninvited guest at the last party they sent us to.”

Iovo seems very amused by the idea of being the problem at a fancy party rather than having to help security take care of uninvited guests.

"Yes, I heard about that," Garif says to Iovo, "glad I missed that party. Well, any party, really."

"Why? I think you would rock them, Garif."

Flashing back to the present...

"Listen, it's a busy night. Either you have business in the embassy, or you don't. So which is it?"

Ironshanks nods to Rees as he lets him in on a dirty little secret of the group. With a grim nod he accepts the wisdom as is, and is quickly distracted by Garif sniffing his axe up in his grill "Ye wanna give it a few practice swings? Can't say I know fer sure where the star metal came from, but I know it slices shields, necks, and skulls just great." He offers up the chance before being pulled through a worm hole back to the present.

-----

Damn. Never had my chance to give my hilarious come back.. "Only party I go to are 'heavy metal' parties. Heh. Elves wouldn't get it, but Garif would...

He snaps out of it and looks up at the guard who's losing his patience. Ironshanks nudges out of the chatty Elves forward to speak for the group, knowing full well he's best seen and not heard in times like these.

"We do. Tell 'em already."

"Oh, no thank you," Garif says, declining Ironshanks' offer to try out the axe. "Looks a bit heavy for me. But I'll be glad to have it along with us."

Some time later, Garif is still blinking thoughtfully and considering Damiar's play on words, but before he can come up with the right response, he's brought back into the moment by the guard's insistence on an answer. Knowing he'll just bungle any attempt at smooth-talking, Garif follows Magee's example and looks to a silver-tongued elf to make it happen.

"Yes, I can see that it is a busy night for you, and we're so very sorry to cause you trouble." Damiar's eyes widen as she looks up earnestly and innocently to the guard. "However, we have urgent information that simply cannot wait. It's for the ambassador's ears only."

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25

Nodding her head, Iovo says “Yes, we have specific orders not to give it to anyone else.”

Aid Bluff: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

”I see.” Obviously disappointed at his vanished prospects for bribery, the guard opens the door. ”Follow me.” He leads you into a high-ceilinged chamber where a woman in clerk’s clothing sits behind a large and imposing desk. The red paint covering the walls does little to hide the raised outlines of the ancient religious mosaics covering the walls of this former temple.

”Thank you, Vanius, that will be all” the woman says without looking up from her papers. Once the door is closed behind the guard, the woman glances up and looks you over. She looks down at a large book on her desk, flips a page, then looks up with a scowl. ”I'm quite sure we have no appointments scheduled for tonight. How can I help you?”

"There was no appointment because this was a matter of utmost urgency!" Damiar meets the woman's gaze, her face shining with both innocence and concern. "We have breaking news that we can only tell to the ambassador himself. If it could wait, we would have made an appointment, I assure you!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

Garif murmurs vaguely, points a broad, calloused finger at Damiar, and nods at the clerk, as if to convey, 'What she said.'

Aid Bluff (completely unneccessarily): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7

Made an appointment? That is a real stretch.

Iovo nods, repeating her line about “We have specific orders about only giving it to the ambassador.” In spite of what she thinks — or perhaps because of it — she delivers the line completely straight faced.

Aid Bluff: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Ironshanks clomps inside, giving the doorman a grunt and a head nod of thanks. He stands in the back as the Elves, and for some reason Garif, speaks to the 'I'm so important, look at my desk!' clerk.

Beaut of a desk, bet I could splinter it in two wacks with this axe... His mind wanders off.

”Oh, I see! Wait just a moment, and I’ll fetch the duty officer.” She carefully closes the ledger on her desk, stands, opens the door behind her, and speaks to someone inside. Through the opened door you catch a glimpse of a large, oddly-shaped room with several desks. You hear a muffled discussion, before the woman closes the door and returns to her desk. A moment later, the door opens again and another woman steps through, this one wearing the livery of a guard officer. ”Ailena tells me that you have information for the ambassador, and for reasons that are still not clear to me” she shoots the woman at the desk a dirty look, ”she can’t accept it for delivery herself. Very well; you may give your material to me, and I will ensure it is delivered to the ambassador.”

I’ve added a map of the room you’re in to the slide deck (also linked in my header), and circled the door she came from.

Ironshanks summons all his self control to not freak out as yet ANOTHER person not titled 'Ambassador: My Daddy Was a Big Deal' gives them a hard time. "Eh. We'll wait." He looks around for a chair or a waiting room or something.

Ironshanks summons all his self control to not freak out as yet ANOTHER person not titled 'Ambassador: My Daddy Was a Big Deal' gives them a hard time. "Eh. We'll wait." He looks around for a chair or a waiting room or something.

ROTLFMAO!

"The ambassador is very busy tonight with the gala" she says, with poorly disguised annoyance. "I will ensure your information is delivered promptly." I'm going to need a Diplomacy check from someone or some other means of convincing to get her to allow you to wait and speak with the ambassador directly.

Damiar is very impressed with how human bureaucracy keeps spawning itself. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience, but our orders are strict. We need to deliver our message to the Ambassador and the Ambassador only."

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Bluff 5 Star Reroll: 1d20 + 9 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 9 + 5 = 27

Damiar hopes that Amara Li can continue to hold him. Desna help us if the Ambassador actually SHOWS up.

She sighs. "Very well. The ambassador is quite busy tonight, but he can find time for you eventually. Ailena, show them to the waiting room." With that, she nods a goodbye and returns to the room from whence she came. The woman behind the desk leads you to one of the door to the east. Inside is a sparse room containing only a table and a few old chairs. Another door leads further to the East. "Please wait here. The ambassador will see you when he's available." She quietly shuffles out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving you alone.

"Um, yeah, only..." Garif offers, quite unconvincingly, in support of Damiar's story. Even he can hear how lame it sounds, and his bald pate flushes slightly pink. Maybe I should follow Nico and Ironshanks' examples, and let the elves do the talking.

Bluff, Aid (again, completely unnecessarily: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8

Ninja'd by 16 seconds, but I'm keeping the post up!

Dennis, those bureacrats are efficient! Not only are they trying to kick us out of the embassy, but they've locked me out of the slide show as well!

Um... Not being able to see the map... Have we noticed a livery for embassy servants that we can use when we disguise ourselves?

Iovo just smiles as her sister convinces the guard officer that they would not be handing over the documents.

She allows herself to be guided into the very crowded waiting room. Once Ailena shuts the door, Iovo listens and waits long enough for Ailena to return to her desk.

Iovo then carefully checks if it was locked. She does not attempt to open it, but does tell the others if it is locked.

Then she makes her way across to the opposite door. “Pardon me, squeezing through!”

She then carefully checks the opposite door for traps and to see if it is locked.

We have seen the livery on the Guard who tried to convince us to give him the papers.
It isn’t clear if Ailena had livery, but we can take her as an example of how clerk servants are dressed.

Before opening the door, she taps herself and Nico with her wand of Mage Armor and quaffs the elixir of hiding.

Ironshanks steps back against the wall, allowing Iovo to squeeze past and do whatever he's doing. "Yer lookin' as nervous as a long tailed cat stuck in a crate o hammers." His analogy may be unique, but regardless, Ironshanks ain't a rushing around type.

"Looks like we're in. Now, we gotta find someone's office right? That dark haired woman that throws all those crazy late night parties eh?" He follows suit and also drinks down his elixir of hiding, then tests it out, standing still against the wall like a stocky brazier.

Hide, Elixir: 1d20 - 2 + 10 ⇒ (16) - 2 + 10 = 24

"Not bad, I can hardly even notice myself. If only I had flamin' red hair." He glances towards the Elves and shakes his head slowly "Don't get any ideas else you'll get a free boot in the ass." He then takes the time to look under the table, curious if anyone else was sentenced here for eternity for having the audacity to want to speak to someone in charge.

Perception, Stonecunning vs Room: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Didn't we have a gnome with us too? Or was it someone's (HMMs most likely) NPC?

Oh rats! I was about to make you invisible!

Not looking away from the door, she replies to Ironshanks “I would say more excited and careful than nervous.”

With a mischievous grin, she teases him “Are you sure you don’t want red hair? We red heads make more fun!”

Rees glances back at the door through which the not-so-functionary departed, and then moves up beside Iovo and speaks quietly. "Um. I would not normally suggest this and probably should not, but... can you modify her door to prevent her from coming back in here?"

Have we noticed a livery for embassy servants that we can use when we disguise ourselves?

You would have seen some footmen outside helping people out of carriages and such, so yes. The duty officer you spoke to was in military dress uniform, rather than servant's livery (and I'll add a picture of her to the slides because it's great art (and the cover of the scenario).

Ironshanks doesn't notice anything unusual about the room, either under the table or in the stonework. Before Iovo can even move to examine the door leading further in, you hear a quiet *click* as it seems to unlock on its own and opens a crack. I'll poke Kate to post tomorrow.

Phinellippa is here! She just didn't have much to add in the talky parts.

Phinellippa also purchased an elixir of hiding before coming in and drinks it now, as well as tapping heself with mage armor.

She whispers, "what do we do from here? Are we pretending to be servants?"

Somewhat surprised, Iovo says “Someone just unlocked the door for us.” pointing to the door she was about to pick.

“If we think we can just use stealth, I think that might work slightly better. If someone gets caught I may be able to use my magic to disguise myself as a guard. I would rather not use that unless needed.”

Ever the curious one, she then peeks through the open door to see what is immediately beyond.

"Table's clear. Not even a stray gum wad to be found. They've got some rigorous cleaning staff, be warned." Satisfied the room is clear of anything like listening devices or peep holes, he straightens his bow tie and combs through his beard with his fingers.

"The Magee's aren't servants, at least not any I've met. We be noble warriors, so if anything goes straight south I'll just lie through my whiskers." He squints his left eye down and cracks a slight smile.

"How's it lookin' out there Chief? You said the door unlocked itself? Think we got a little extra inside help or someone just put out some bait..."

Curiously, Iovo sees no-one in the small hallway beyond, but she does find a set of keys hanging in the outer keyhole of the door that was just unlocked. You hear people passing by just on the other side of the red curtain, and from the door directly ahead of you come sounds that put a kitchen in mind.

"I'm going to be a servant. I think that if I swing in to the kitchen, I can grab a tray of hors d'oeuvres and make enough noise to cover all of you!""

Iovo nods in acknowledgement of her sister’s plan.

She quickly casts a spell so that she can communicate with the rest of you, grabs the keys, and then sneaks over to peek through the curtain.
Message spell
Stealth, Take 10: 10 + 9 + 10 = 29

Move me once you uncover that section please.

Iovo carefully peaks through the curtain at the end of this short hallway, revealing a longer hallway bustling with servant activity. At one is a set of doors that obviously leads back to the room you began in, and another leads tot he east at the far end of the hallway. On the far side is another thick curtain, the sound of many voices muffled beyond.

You see two options to get through this hallway without raising suspicion: (a) You can try to time your movement with the ebb and flow of servant activity, requiring one of you to make a perception check; (b) You can stroll down like you own the place, requiring whoever is leading the way to pass a bluff check.

Iovo whispers the information back to the rest of the group. She expresses confidence in her own ability to time it, but silently expects her sister will opt for the other solution.

“Long hallway, periodic servant traffic. I could tell you when to move so as to avoid the servant traffic, or someone could just make anyone we meet think we have the right to be here.”

“Crowd noise beyond the curtain at the end of the hallway.”