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Raul looks at the giant metal man and shrugs. I mean i can try but no promises. Raul reaches in his pouch and pulls out a small kit with picks and prongs. looking at the door ahead he will cautiously approach the chest ready to spring back towards his allies if danger should emerge.
Raul feeling confident in the fact that he is well obscured starts to make quick work on the lock placing a few picks in the mechanism he turns his ear closer to listen as he works. [ooc]If taking 10 is not feasible in this situation he will try to work quickly but always prefers not to rush his tedious work.
Raul moves in silently and then quickly and quietly opens the chest. Inside is a potion, two scrolls, and a fine looking shortsword. The sword looks to be excellent quality, perhaps even enchanted.
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Raul gathers the items and skulks back into the veil of darkness towards his companions, He hands the potions and scroll to the oracle and alchemist but clings onto the sword. Do you all mind if I give this thing a whirl? I might be able to dig a little deeper with this thing.
He will look to Grim for guidance before heading back towards the door. Maybe let me engage like before and draw their attention then everyone else can pounce when they bear down on me? If the group seems agreeable Raul will sheath the new sword in his belt drawing his trusty bow and will head to the door slowly nudging it open as to not to draw attention. He will wait a moment before briefly peering inside. If he sees any hostile individuals he will fire at the individual that appears to be the leader and then will immediately retreat behind the boxes and crates.
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"It's all yours, as far as I'm concerned" Tresca tells Raul, craning her head to look up at him. Beyond knowing which end to hold, the alchemist really knew next to nothing about swords. Drawing another phial from her pouch, she quickly gulps down the mutagen inside. The mutagen's side effect of making the half elf look bulkier and more bestial was somewhat diminished by the fact that she was still under three feet tall from her previous imbibing.
Tresca positions herself by Raul, drops her backpack, and places one hand in her alchemical pouch, ready to draw a bomb at a moment's notice. "That door will act as a bottleneck for the enemy" she points out, "Perfect target for a bomb, if you ask me. Between you, me, and Tanselle, that's three shots we can get in before the enemy even knows what hit em." The last fight had gone well with Raul starting things off with a sneaky shot. Could they make it three times as good with three times the firepower on the opening volley?
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"Concur. Prepare your weapons. I will kick down the door and step to the side. You wreak havoc inside. I will take care of anything that comes through the door. Ready?" Grimaldus grips his sword firmly and positions himself next to the door. He will double check to see if it opens into the building, or out. He will wait until everyone is in position, then either kick the door in, or grab the handle and jerk the door open. Then he waits...
1)
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4)
5)
Kurse determine the potion is cure moderate wounds, the scrolls are identical remove disease, and it is a +1 shortsword.
The Pathfinders get into position and Grimaldus kicks in the door with a bang, startling the only occupant in this room. Looking something like a twisted gnome with wild white hair, it screeches in shock. It's pale bluish grey skin and wide staring white eyes mark it as a Derro. A long, pink puckered scar of a rough and recently healed wound runs down it's cheek, and you know you have found the one Captain Themis described.
Raul fires his arrow, which only just manages to graze the derro.
Initiative Order - Surprise
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Grimaldus - Kicks in door and 5 ft steps out of entryway
Kurse
Tanselle
Raul - fires and hits
Tresca
-------------------------------------Round 1
Derro!
Initiative Order - Surprise
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Grimaldus - Kicks in door and 5 ft steps out of entryway
Kurse - casts bless
Tanselle - hits for 1 damage
Raul - fires and hits for 3 damage
Tresca - bombs for 7 damage
-------------------------------------Round 1
Derro
Grimaldus
Kurse
Tanselle
Raul
Tresca
The derro cackles wildly as it draws a deadly looking crossbow and fires at the first creature he sees through the door. Tresca finds she has nowhere to dodge as the bolt flies squarely at her. The quarrel of a crossbow pierces deeply and she feels a wave of weakness sweep over her.
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Seeing the derro's crossbow bolt so injure Tresca, Tanselle rushes into action. She dashes past her companions and into the room, plugging an alchemical cartridge into her pistol as moves. Once in position, she unloads a shot at her foe.
"Try to keep clear of my bullets, boys!" Tanselle shouts as she fires at the derro.
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Following the plan, Grimaldus waited until his comapnions fired their weapons, then burst into the room with his greatsword thirsty for blood. Seeing the derro standing there and hearing the pained cry of one of his comapnions behind him, Grimaldus bears down and strikes!
But all he manages to hit is the broad side of the house. He put a [I[really[/I] big hole in the wall, but not the enemy...
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Tresca nods at Kurse as she fights the lightheaded feeling from both the injury and the poison. "I'll agree with Slips on that one. Thanks." she tells him, grateful for the healing.
Loading a bolt into her crossbow she takes careful aim and fires at the derro.
Tresca doesn't account for her newfound lack of strength and fails to raise the crossbow high enough. The bolt lands in the really big hole that Grim's recent attack made. Take that, architecture!
Initiative Order - Surprise
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Grimaldus - Kicks in door and 5 ft steps out of entryway
Kurse - casts bless
Tanselle - hits for 1 damage
Raul - fires and hits for 3 damage
Tresca - bombs for 7 damage
-------------------------------------Round 1
Grimaldus - creates a new window
Kurse - heals Tresca
Tanselle - fires and misses
Raul - moves in to flank
Tresca - fires and misses
Derro
-------------------------------------Round 2
Grimaldus
Kurse
Tanselle
Raul
Tresca
The derro screeches with laughter as the intruders fail to strike him, making scathing subconscious judgments against the decor instead. He nimbly steps toward the door to the other room, loosing a bolt on the behemoth that just put a hole in the wall into the other room.
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Tanselle dashes across the room, nimbly leaping between Raul and the derro to take position in the far corner. She pulls another cartridge from her belt pouch as she moves, plugging into her pistol as she skids to a halt. As soon as she is still, Tanselle fires another round at the laughing derro.
"I doubt you will find that quite so funny," she shouts over the din of battle.
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"No Sslipss I can't do that yet it'ss not ready, but I guesss I could practice." Kurse then does some leaping strides that gracefully move him into the room and throws in a little spin as he moves next to his enemy. He then reaches out with his boney left hand to strike the derro with it's swirling dark energy.
"Ssee it'ss not ready yet."
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"Oh for the love of - " Tresca mutters as her shot misses. Stupid crossbow had to be broken or something. With a frown, she braces the crossbow against the ground to pull the string back and reload. At the very least, it was hard to reload between her reduced strength and her reduced stature. Getting another bolt in, she raises the crossbow higher this time and squeezes the trigger...
... and holds her breath as the bolt seems to fly true. Was it enough to hit?
Raul moves and tumbles into a flanking position and lashes out with both blades at the maddened creature. His lunges strike home and the derro crumples to the floor, bleeding from it's wounds.
The derro wore leather armor, and carried a short sword, repeating light crossbow with 8(poisoned, you'd guess) bolts, 300 gp worth of platinum pieces and a ring of keys. The next room has several clean straw pallets covered in blankets and sleeping mats as well as a stack of small cages containing mundane sewer rats. Resting atop a small table is a ledger written in a strange hand and a shiny rat statue of heavy black stone.
The jet rat you were to find.
A chest in the corner opens easily to one of the keys on the ring and contains a wealth of gold and silver, assorted jewelry and ornaments, and even grisly bits like gold teeth extracted from their owners.
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Sheathing his sword, Grimaldus looks at the rat statue and the cages of ordinary rats. "Do you suppose this statue has the power to turn ordinary rats into those monsters we faced at the bottom of the ladder? No wonder the Society wants it recovered! Let us check on and free the other slaves and be on our way..."
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With the unpleasantness finally over thanks to Raul's swift work with his blades, Tanselle finally holsters her pistol and sets about searching the various buildings for lost Qadiran agent Wafid Sadaqat.
"Tresca," she says, "Perhaps you can help me find an associate of my faction who was lost to these slavers not one year ago."
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Tresca sprouts back up to her full height as she willingly dispels her reduce person infusion. She'd rather regain some of her strength if she had a big body to haul.
"Raul, Grim, don't let us forget to come back for that Derro's body" she mentions to her fellow Andorrans. To the others she explains, "Our faction wants proof of the derros' involvement down here. I'd say a body's pretty good proof"
Joining her half elf friend briefly, Tresca nods. "Of course I'll help look." she says, "If he's here, we'll find him" Tresca splits off to look in the hopes of covering more ground quicker. Who knows when backup might be on the way?
Tresca squints slightly as she starts to look. She was used to usually having keen eyes, but it appeared as though her mutagen dulled them somewhat.
Tanselle finishes documenting the crates marked with a red "X", settling on a count of 8.
There are less Taldan citizens held here than you had expected, but they are grateful for your aid and eager to follow you out of this place. As you call for Wafid Sadaqat, a weakened voice finally answers. He is emaciated from starvation and dehydration, but he still lives. The mites seem to have all disappeared, a pile of discarded shackles and keys the only trace left behind.
Your victorious return from Cassomir Below should have been sweet, but like the stench of the sewer that still clings to your clothes and gear, it held a bitter taint. You brought the jet rat out of the enemy's hands, true. But you freed only a handful of kidnapped Cassomir citizens and returned with nearly as many corpses as you did live bodies. The reports on those you saved is not encouraging either, as some seem irreparably damaged from their time with the Derro.
Questions plague you as you while away your time, on stand-by once again. Some of your companions give voice to them over drinks.
"The place seemed so empty. Why would there only be one derro? It just doesn't make sense."
"Did you see all the empty cages? Did we arrive too late?"
But no answers come, and you are left again with too much time to speculate.
The traffic in Cassomir and the Inn ebbs and flows like the tide as ships deliver people and cargo to the nearby docks and then carry them away in the next moment. More Pathfinders come and go and you get the distinct impression that Venture Captain Themis is putting a lot of agents on the problem. Other folk of all varieties drift through the common room, unloading their own cargo of news and rumors. The Teppish name catches your ear and you begin to hear conflicting accounts from those conversing nearby. First someone speaks of the traitorous Dalirio Teppish's well deserved death but then later the same day, someone else reports that he has escaped the Pathfinder's grasp. Yet another rumor tells the tale of lost love reunited and a dark wedding somewhere in the depths uniting the Teppish and Ismacco families forever. The flotsam and jetsam clutter of conflicting whispers do nothing for your peace of mind.
It is a relief when the door of the Inn finally opens to reveal Cestis, the fresh-faced scholarly Pathfinder you freed from the madman, Dalirio Teppish and his slave-mongering cult. He approaches your group with yet another list of names and urges you gather your gear and follow him to the Pathfinder Lodge.
Beta (1-2 tier)
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1) Tanselle Bashar - Gunslinger 1
2) Tresca Versei - Alchemist 2
3) Grimaldus - Fighter 2
4) Raul Valentino - Rogue 1
5) Odo the Bold - Paladin 2
Venture-Captain Hestia Themis regards you with dark, haunted eyes. The petite Taldan woman was widely known as quite a beauty, though her now harried appearance revealed she had not borne the stress of the recent troubles well. The sunken shadows under her eyes told of long hours spent straining by candlelight instead of getting much needed rest. With a perplexed stitch in her brow, she paced beside her enormous desk as you settle in to hear her speak. Her voice is gravelly with overuse and saturated with frustration and cynicism, but still commands the attention of the room.
“I simply do not understand. A new kidnapping spree plagues us again despite all our efforts. It seems our citizens make easy prey to those who profit from such exploits! While this disturbs me, I am more troubled by reports that some of those kidnapped have returned to the city as undead monsters who accompany this Cult of Nature’s Cataclysm plague, a plague that I can’t seem to excise from my beloved city." She trembles with rage, her lips peeling back in a snarl as she slams her fist down on the polished blackwood.
“This ends now! For a third time we battle Groetus-worshiping dogs and there will not be a fourth!” Taking several deep breaths, Hestia regains her composure, smoothing wisps of raven hair back into her up-do.
“I am sending you to Swift Prison to interrogate a cultist we captured who was trying to kidnap a local engineer. Meet my man Garver out front — he’ll take you in to see the Nature’s Cataclysm fool. Find out where the other cultists hide, where they’ve taken their recent victims, and how they’re turning them into skeletal undead monsters. Free as many Cassomir citizens as you can, of course — the good publicity never hurts. Any questions?”
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"Roger. Primary mission is the destruction of the Groetus cult. Any restraints on our actions? Do you wish to have prisoners for trials or for the problem to go away quickly? If we need reinforcements will they be available?" Grim asks with military efficiency. You can see that he lives for this - mission planning and execution...
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A mission in a prison. It wasn't ideal, but at least it got them out of the sewers. Dealing with the undead on the other hand ... Tanselle found herself having less and less time for those not following nature's laws.
"We won't let you down," she says, patting the pistol at her hip.
On their way to the prison, Tanselle engages Odo with questions about the nature of cold iron and silver's effects on the undead and whether it was worth stocking up on some special ammunition based on what the captain described.
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While the half-elf was less than thrilled to once again be battling the cult that just wouldn't quit, she was glad at least to be doing so with good companions. She had worked with them all before, and she couldn't think of anybody else she'd rather have watching her back.
"We'll do everything in our power to make sure they stay down, Captain" Tresca says confidently.
Following the group out of the lodge, she listens in on Odo and Tanselle's conversation. It never hurt to lend an ear to the resident expert when you knew what kind of danger you were getting yourself into.
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Odo gives Tanselle's question some thought before coming up with an answer. "I bear an iron scimitar because it is effective against demons, not for its utility against the undead. I do not believe it will be either more or effective against such creatures as any blade of steel. Of silver's effect, I know relatively little. I have some silver bullets for my sling that I bought for suitable emergencies, but I figured that would be more an issue with devils than undead."
"I will say this - the forms of undead suggest certain things. How do you make a walking skeleton bleed or pierce it's lung with an arrow? A deep penetrating wound would do little, I expect, compared one that smashes its bones. And against undead without solid form, ghostly apparitions, I fear nothing short of magic will do for how otherwise do you cause bodily harm to that which is without a body?"
"Roger. Primary mission is the destruction of the Groetus cult. Any restraints on our actions? Do you wish to have prisoners for trials or for the problem to go away quickly? If we need reinforcements will they be available?" Grim asks with military efficiency. You can see that he lives for this - mission planning and execution...
“You will need to watch your step in Swift Prison, remember you represent the Society within their walls. We believe at least 15 Cassomirites — all of them engineers, city planners, masons, and the like have fallen victim this time. Retrieve them alive if you can, but if you can locate the threat, end it by any means necessary. Maybe the cultist in Swift Prison can tell you where to start.” Themis nods to Cestis who approaches with another stack of missives from your various factions.
Andoran Faction Mission, optional (Alternate for Silver Crusade)
Qadiran Faction Mission, optional
Information on Swift Prison:
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"The cultist will talk," Tanselle said. "We can be very persuasive."
Not having ever heard of Swift Prison, Tanselle takes some time speaking with patrons of the inn and street vendors on the way to the prison to see if anyone else knows anything that could be of use. As usual, her cold demeanor and the pistol prominently displayed on her hip ensures that every conversation is as terse as possible.
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The alchemist takes a moment to read over the letter which Cestis passed her, finding a second sealed letter inside. After reading her letter, she slips the sealed letter into her coat, and makes a mental note to burn the letter containing her instructions as soon as she finds a decent source of flame.
She frowns as she thinks about the instructions further. The note had been explicit about keeping the mission discrete, which only really concerned Tanselle, the only member of their group not pledging loyalty to Andorran. She was becoming fast friends with her fellow half-elf, and it just seemed wrong to keep her in the dark.
Following the others to Swift Prison, she takes a moment to strike up conversation with the locals, see if she can find out a little bit more about where they were headed.
Unfortunately for the half-elf, striking up conversation had never been her strong point. Fortunately, though, she had done her research before arriving and remembered a few key details.
"We may find that a bribe may speak louder than threats, in this case." the alchemist advises, "From what I recall reading, this prison extorts payments from its interred, and gives all sorts of privileges for those who can afford it. Buying a few months of relative luxury could go a long way towards loosening this cultist's tongue."
Swift Prison’s formidable gates loom over all who pass beneath them. Out front, a gilded statue stares uncaringly at those who serve time beyond her sentry-like gaze. The wrinkled, dirty faces of Cassomir’s prisoners are briefly illuminated behind the bars of the ground floor begging cells. Their pathetic drone as they beg for coppers fills the courtyard in front of the prison.
Hestia’s man, Garver, approaches your group as you arrive. He is a tall Taldan man with a slim physique and plain peasant’s clothing.
“You made it. Good. I've arranged to escort you inside. Follow me.” Garver turns and enters the prison, marching through myriad hallways that twist and turn and finally end at a plain but thick wooden door. Garver produces a key and says, “Our captured cultist fancies himself an artist, and if you like his work, it’s all for sale. I should warn you, he's a bit... unstable. but when he’s lucid he provides good information about the cult and their plans. You're not to harm him, so probably best to begin with a friendly tactic, eh?”
Garver opens the door and leads you down several stone steps into a dingy, shadowed room with three cells. He claps the guard on the shoulder and shakes his hand as if slipping the man a coin in the process. "How's about we let the Pathfinders have some room to visit with your guest there, hmm? There's a good lad, you're due a break by now, eh?" The guard stares stupidly at his palm for a moment and then eyes the party curiously, but climbs the steps and shuts the door behind him without another word.
In the center cell stands a man dressed in torn beggar’s rags splashed all over with paint. His bare feet are shackled to the floor by a 3-foot length of chain which clinks along as he drags it behind him, maniacally throwing color onto a dirty canvas. He scrutinizes his work for a moment and then suddenly rakes a paint-crusted claw across the canvas leaving savage marks across whatever it was. He cries out in wordless delight and grasps the paining, brandishing it over his head like a prize beyond all wealth. "For you, my master! Always for YOU!" He exclaims through a toothless grin. He then lays the painting atop a small pile of apparent recent works and sets up another moldy, blank canvas, furiously attacking it with his brush. He does not seem to have noticed your entrance at all, so complete is his absorption in his work.
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Seeing the rambling artist they've come to question, Tanselle nudges Tresca with her elbow.
"I question the value any information we get from this man," she says. "We'd have better luck asking one of Kurse blue friends."
Unnerved by the man's frantic motions, Tanselle places a hand on the grip of her pistol.
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Odo watches the deranged artist and sighs. "This isn't going to be easy," he tells himself. "But easy isn't what you took your oaths for."
The halfling walks over to the stack of finished paintings and starts to look through them.
"I would not have taken Groetus to be a patron of the arts. Does he appreciate the work you are doing with these canvases and paint?" Odo tries to break the ice.