Volcano's Land - Forged in Blood

Game Master Miner Cotren

Darkness surrounds the land where the peoples of Volcano, River, and Forest live under a Fallen Sky.

Map.

Most recent loose ends


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Iniga, Margherita glances toward you. "Do you want to, eh, bring along your family too? I know it's a short walk to get there, but we don't know much about this tribe, things might get rough?" She phrases this last as a question.


Female CG Sylph Ranger (Stormwalker) 5 | HP: 9/30 | AC: 15 (14 Tch, 11 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 20 | F: +4, R: +9, W: +4 | Init: +4 | Perc: +10 (13) , SM: +2 | Speed 35ft | Active conditions: none

Samen, Marianne laughs at your comment. "Losing your childhood seems to be nothing more than losing your happiness, so yes, I'm sure stupid Marianne in the past was happier."

She sighs, pushing the clean plate away from her. "Anyway, let's talk about something less depressing. Should we go try and find Iniga? Or try out that tah-shala tournament? Is that any fun?"


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

"Ehh, I never really took to it. Burning down scarecrows was fun, though. Yeah, lets find our cousin and see what trouble she's managed to find."


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

"Aye. Iniga was more perturbed by the disappearance of that priest. Perhaps she requires assistance."


Female Ifrit Female CG Ifrit Skald (Fated Champion Red Tongue) 6 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 16 (11 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +8, CMD: 19 | F: +8, R: +4, W: +5 | Init: +8 | Perc: +8 , SM: +11 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: none

"I'm pretty sure we can handle things if it gets rough, but you are right, it might be worth just letting my family know where I am and what I'm doing just in case . You never know when you might need more allies."


Female CG Sylph Ranger (Stormwalker) 5 | HP: 9/30 | AC: 15 (14 Tch, 11 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 20 | F: +4, R: +9, W: +4 | Init: +4 | Perc: +10 (13) , SM: +2 | Speed 35ft | Active conditions: none

As the two groups search for each other, Marianne's sharp eyes spot Iniga first. "Iniga! Can you believe they're hunting stone pigs around here? What's an ele with a bow to do in these circumstances?" She smiles. "What have you been up to?"


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Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

"Find harder arrows.", quips Wamblee in response.

"What news do you bring?"


in the interest of game flow, let's assume Iniga tells the group that she has heard previous rumors (from several weeks ago) of the Wyrmwood tribe being involved in dangerous gem or crystal magic - a lead that may connect to the Matoskah and the others


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

"I see. Good work, cousin. Do you know if any of the Wyrmwood tribe remain at the Meet?"


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Female Ifrit Female CG Ifrit Skald (Fated Champion Red Tongue) 6 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 16 (11 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +8, CMD: 19 | F: +8, R: +4, W: +5 | Init: +8 | Perc: +8 , SM: +11 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: none

Thanks GM, I was at a concert and was unavailable. Back now.

"I am fairly certain that the Wyrmwood tribe still currently exists at the meet. The tribe itself is several days travel but the chief and other significant people are here and only a short walk away."


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

"Then let us find them."


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

"Lead the way!"


Following the winding procession of tribes and camps upon the hillside, you see a clear pattern - Ambrosia and the other allies of the North Tribe are all strung together, followed by a large gap, and then the Eastern Tribes begin. There is very little traffic crossing the no-elen's land between them.

Wrymwood is, of course, across that tense plain, somehow devoid of grass or any other growth.

As you cross, you notice a group of several oreads peering at you, moving to block you. They move slowly, deliberately.

about fifty feet away

They are all tall, strong els, covered in dead trophies of deliberate blasphemy - elephant tusks strapped to forearms; bloody vulture feathers festooned upon necks; immaculate pogonaskin capes; canary-bone necklaces; and the leader, the tallest, has a strange crooked red amulet you cannot make out.

Their strange savage eyes, surrounded by black warpaint, make eye contact with each of you.

about forty feet away

The leader speaks in a quick Sedime patois that only Samen can follow completely, with Wamblee catching one or two words. "Heyhey! You keep flames and birds away from our most sacred tribes of Great Forest." He casually jabs his spear toward Marianne and Iniga, clearly intent on preventing the two from getting any closer.


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee raises an open hand to signify non-hostility.

"Shared roots, els of Wrymwood. I am Wamblee Firenze of Cedersmoke and these are my kin. We would speak with you on a matter of grave importance."

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30


good sense motive - this is not the chief by the way, likely he is captain of the chieftain's guard, or a head hunter, etc. He seems calm for the moment - that is, not likely to attack unless provoked.

Some of the warriors laugh, though you are not sure why. The leader waves his els back, stepping forward toward Wamblee with interest shining in his eyes. Closer now, you can see the red amulet is the severed finger of an ifrit.

"You wrestle me beat me, then talk." He carelessly throws his spear behind him, and crouches in a grappling stance.

if you agree to the match: let's not belabor the exact grappling rules, let's just say we each make 5 opposed CMB rolls, and let me know any abilities you might be using that would tip the match in your favor


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

"As you say.", Wamblee replies, flexing briefly before advancing.

CMB: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
CMB: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24
CMB: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
CMB: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
CMB: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18

Just two passive abilities to bear in mind. Strength of Stone for +1 CMD vs bull rush or trip, and Purity of Body to ignore any diseases this el may be afflicted with.


grapple: 1d20 + 5 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 + 5 = 20
grapple: 1d20 + 5 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 + 5 = 26
grapple: 1d20 + 5 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 + 5 = 19
grapple: 1d20 + 5 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 5 = 11

Though the hunter is strong, he is obviously more accustomed to spearwork than footwork. There is a moment where his strength threatens to overbalance you, but you dig your feet into the ground, and he simply cannot move you.

Tired from straining, he puts up little resistance as you go on the attack, tripping his leg as you squash him to the ground. He is pinned, the chanting done.

Stunned silence from the group. Then, the leader jumps up and starts laughing. A wild, shrieking sound, he hops around in place, an expression of drunken mirth plastered on his warpainted face. He points at you, smiling, in what you think is a congratulatory gesture.

"Ohhey! You the guy hunted down those tribeless? Good you, good you. What say, trunk?"


Female CG Sylph Ranger (Stormwalker) 5 | HP: 9/30 | AC: 15 (14 Tch, 11 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 20 | F: +4, R: +9, W: +4 | Init: +4 | Perc: +10 (13) , SM: +2 | Speed 35ft | Active conditions: none

Marianne gives a victorious "Whoop!" as Wamblee puts the confrontational el in his place.


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

Samen shakes his head at the display. "If you two are done, can we put away the measuring rods and talk about the Ifrit?"


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee gives his opponent a nod of respect and offers him a hand up.

He was capable, certainly. That was no certain victory.

Whichever his opponent chooses, Wamblee will smile slightly at his sibling's commentary before addressing the chief.

"Shared roots. What happened with the brothers that they became Tribeless? And of course, we seek the ifrit priest."


The hunter stiffens. "You think Wyrm knows anything about them? What, you jus' come from Ambrosia, head full a' mushroom dreams?" He laughs, and his fellows laugh with him.

from earlier sense motive, he is obviously lying. he knows something of the brothers.


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee looks at the hunter sternly.

"Do not speak any more foolishness. Speak truth on the matter."


The hunter shakes his head. "Nah. Only Wyrmwood chief can talk about tribeless, and chief won't see likes a' you. You no chief, no chief-to-be. So get out with you question 'less you want to start a little war." He motions his els a step or two closer.


Female CG Sylph Ranger (Stormwalker) 5 | HP: 9/30 | AC: 15 (14 Tch, 11 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 20 | F: +4, R: +9, W: +4 | Init: +4 | Perc: +10 (13) , SM: +2 | Speed 35ft | Active conditions: none

Ever wary, Marianne slowly brings her bow to a more advantageous position.


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

"As far as you know, he is our chief." Samen looks around conspicuously. "Nope, no other claimant around here that I can see. Maybe you should get your chief to adjudicate for us."


someone roll some kind of check to support this idea


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

Guess that's me! This'll go over well!

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (18) - 3 = 15
Diplomacy: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (12) - 3 = 9 (Take the lesser of these two).


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Wamblee suppresses a small smile at Samen's attempts to convince the hunter. Quietly, but loud enough to be heard, he says to the warrior, "You are surely right. A chief would come with his advisors, his guard, and his handstone, would he not?"

Wyrmwood nods, happy to be almost rid of you.

Wamblee nods back, amiable. "Well then. These," he gestures to his family, and the mercenaries, "are my advisors, and my guard. And this," pulling the lapiz-lazuli from Hotah out of his belt, "is my handstone. Cedar Smoke. I will see your chieftain now."

this comes from Wamblee's time researching Cedar Smoke at Branch and learning the ways of the Meet, and the tribes, from Odakotah

mechanically, let's say this gesture cancelled out the 2nd bad roll, and a 15 is good enough to get you to the chieftain, especially given the handstone


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Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

It worked. Good. Violence her would not go all our way, if it did at all.


The head hunter brings you past dour elders and sour children, eating joyless meals and attending unsmiling chores. Seated upon a three-legged stool made of a curious purplish wood, you see the chieftain who insultingly called you 'Wamblee Tribeless' but a day ago. He is giving you a dark look that holds equal parts bitter amusement and open contempt.

The hunter whispers quickly in his leader's ear. The Wyrmwood chieftain smiles, showing teeth crooked enough to have chewed diamonds. "So you Chief Tribeless now?" He points to your handstone. "Maybe maybe stick that piece of kak back where it come, and no dishonor your grandfather's tribe?"


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee's expression does not shift.

"Shared roots, Chief Wrymwood. I am Wamblee Firenze, of Cedarwood, and I have every right to hold this Handstone. I will be happy to leave, once I have what I seek. That is, an explanation of how Matoskah, Maht, and the others ended up *Tribeless*, and the return of the ifrit priest."

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

Wamblee awaits a response.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16


opposed diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2??

The belligerent chief looks at you blankly for a moment, as if trying to remember something. Shaking his head, he refocuses on Wamblee. "Ah, fine. But- you Speaker, not Chief. Come. We will stand and talk this over. The two of us. You guard you mage you hunter stay with mine." He stands up, the motion smooth despite his years, and motions you to follow.

Wamblee, your sense motive leads you to believe this may be a sign of the chieftain's advanced age - he lost track of the conversation, or his place in it.

let me know if you agree to Wyrmwood's terms. he's asking you to come with him alone - out of earshot but not out of sight, to talk


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

Samen shrugs. This is going way better than he expected.


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee nods and replies:

"As you say, Chief Wyrmwood.", as he walks to join the el.

That's a yes.


I'm not a fan of using spoilers for extended private conversations. I'll use spoilers if there is a big decision, secret etc.

Wamblee, Chief Wyrmwood walks you to a place uphill, deeper into East Tribe territory. You recognize it as a place of standing - likely where all the east chiefs meet to discuss matters privately. The table, carved from the stump an ancient lightning-felled tree, currently stands empty.

Wyrmwood stands before the table, inviting you to join him. His speech is slightly more formal now, but still heavily accented. "Does anyone else know what you know? I would give much to keep this quiet. Help you find that priest too."


Samen

An oread, who is obviously the magician of Wyrmwood, catches your eye. He is a shruken, mad thing, reeking of elderberry dreams and fermented moss nightmares. "A game of tshala, induna?" He drinks deeply from an intricately carved ivory drinking horn. Some of the syrupy purple fluid spills into his accidental beard.

sir, mister


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

Samen looks around at the surly folks surrounding them and makes a face that he supposes looks genial. "Sure, it'll pass the time. I can't promise you it'll be interesting, though. I've only played two games, and they haven't gone well."


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee replies directly and with a level tone, very seriously:

"That the brothers were Wyrmwood? Or that they used gem magic? Their clan my cousin heard through rumour. The gem magic we saw for ourselves *after* Matoshka flew a spear through the heart of an Ambrosia Tribe Griot."


Wamblee

The Chief does not make eye contact with you; he is lost in the past. "They changed. That damn magic change them, even change they face. No one would know they were Wyrmwood, but you and your what you say cousin. No one but their father," he beats his own chest once, "would ever see them true."

Now he looks up. "So you can ruin my tribe, or you can name a price. What say you?"


Samen

"Who say things have to go good to be interesting? Ha ha!" He cackles a bit, clears his throat, and takes another swig of elderberry wine.

wisdom check for game plz

magician tshala: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15


Female CG Sylph Ranger (Stormwalker) 5 | HP: 9/30 | AC: 15 (14 Tch, 11 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 20 | F: +4, R: +9, W: +4 | Init: +4 | Perc: +10 (13) , SM: +2 | Speed 35ft | Active conditions: none

During the meeting of chiefs and games of tshala, Marianne remains watchful, fiddling with her bow in a nonthreatening manner. Her eyes take in the Wyrmwood guards, the ifrit mercenaries, her brothers, and her cousin. She has nothing to say to the hunter who wears an ifrit-finger necklace, and he in turn practices spear throwing at a nearby bullface target.


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

"It shall at least be instructional."

Tshala!: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

Samen tries his best to pick up the intricacies of the game, but, too late, he realizes it had been impossible for him to win two turns ago.


Samen

The magician smiles, quiet in his victory. He holds out his drinking horn to you. "Maybe this instruction you need?"


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

"I could certainly use the drink, this much is true."

Samen leans in a bit as he takes the horn. "Any idea why there aren't any other Cedarsmokes out here? They all die out, or something?"


Male LN Oread Monk (Student of the Stone) 6 | HP: 41/50 | Temp HP: 0 |AC: 16 (16 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: +11, CMD: 20 | F: +7, R: +7, W: +9 | Init: +1 | Perc: +12, SM: +10 Darkvision | Speed 30ft | Stunning Fist: 5/6, Ki 5/6 | Acid Resistance 5, DR 3/Adamantine | Active conditions: 0 non-lethal damage.

Wamblee maintains his gaze.

"I see. I am content to remain quiet about this in exchange for two things. First, knowing the source of this gem magic. It could be a grave threat and I want to know if more gem-users are going to bubble up. Second, the ifrit priest found and freed. Are these terms acceptable to you?"


Samen

Your first mouthful seems to be a a simple enough (if a bit strong) red wine. But the aftertasteyou-

You taste the future, which tastes--to your cynical lack of surprise--sour as vinegar and spoiled berries. You are suddenly able to peer into the immediate consequences of your tshala game. Rather than question these circumstances, you proceed with the game while casually using this new ability.

tshala samen, still trying to beat a game of DC 15 vs magician: 1d20 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 5 = 17

The future comes faster now, and it has the feeling of being real, just like the tshala game. Spes creeps onto your hand, then arm, with alarming speed. As weeks then months pass, the landscape is taken over by Spes. Thanks to Spes, everyone is gem-encrusted special.


-youdontcare for the aftertaste. You cough and splutter, and you are holding a drinking horn, and the second tshala game is yet to be played.


Male NG Oread Magus (staff magus)(Elemental Paragon) 6 | Arcane pool: 2/6 | HP: 20/45 | AC: 16 (12 Tch, 14 Fl) | BAB: 4, CMB: +8, CMD: 18 | F: +7, R: +5, W: +8 | Init: +2 | Perc: 2, SM: 2 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None. | Spells: 0th: AS, Det. Mg, Arc. Mk, RoF 1st: MagWep 1/1, (Elemental) Frostbite 2/2, Det. elem 2/2 2nd: bladed dash 1/1, rock whip 1/1 Frigid Touch 0/1 Defending Bone 1/1

"ACK!!" Samen coughs and wheezes, looking at the horn like a dangerous snake that will bite him should he let go of it.

"That's uh... that's quite the brew you've got there. Great Forest, what kind of magic is in that?"

He takes a breath and looks the mystic in the eye, for whatever good that will do. Without considering any other possibility, he assumes the magician knew exactly what he was doing. "I must know, do the berries lie or speak true? As a follow-on and completely unrelated question, what do you know about gem magic?"


Wamblee

The chief sees a fair price, and nods immediately. "Sure, my hunter Tashunk go with you, help you find priest, fine."

He sighs. "And the gems. Where they from. It the Fey. The Tricksters. They show you sparkles, but really just throw salt in your eyes. The more gems, the more crazy, the stronger they be. And I tell you - my boys went up North on a raid, teach them North Tribes a lesson, and they come back like this. You want to see where gems, where mad Fey are, they North. That's where I lost my boys." He sways on his feet for a moment, hunched over in grief.


Samen

The magician's eyes gleam back at you madly, all whites and pupil. "True or lie?" He laughs, a sound accompanied by wet, mucus-filled coughs. "Both? Neither?" More laughter. He drinks again from the elephant ivory.

Sudden somber at your last question, "I know enough to stay away from gem magic. Promises made to Fey never turn out good. Drive people crazy, drive people Fey." His eyes stray to the far off figure of Chief Wyrmwood. "The chief damn near lost all his son."

"An' sorry, I dunno about Cedarsmoke no show."

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