Gameplay here
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Tytus Umbraleyes is a stocky young man of clearly dwarven blood, about 4`8`` with maybe 240 pounds. His heritage is obvious, as he has blackest orbs for eyes, a long tail and maw to make a shark proud. He dresses usually in brown leather pants and coat with an embroyeded red and black vest. If on a mission he wears a mithral breastplate of best dwarven craftmanship dyed in gray and gold, embossened with the hammer of Torag on his shoulders.
His belt of woven steelwire has the dwarven rune of strength engraved on his mithral buckle. On his left hip is a strange looking gun and on his right a block of adamantine carved into a angry dwarven head on a long chain. Two crossed bandoleers holds a few potions a mutagen and extracts.
Tytus vanity are cigars, whenever possible he lights one and gently savors it.
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Shortly after a Pathfinder enters, the air peels back to reveal another, as if hiding under an invisible blanket. This dwarf has a scarred, ruddy face only a mother could love, and a well-paid one at that. Beyond that, almost all of his body is obscured by a baggy priest's robe, and the dark garb underneath. It is adorned with stylized keys of Abadar, and a fair few bloodstains. Even so, he looks better built than the average dwarf, with heavy muscles. Several crossbows and belt pouches rest around the belt cinching up the garment.
"Good to meetcha, Sir," he drawls, his voice like extremely antisocial gravel. "I'm called Mavarion, or Mav fer short. A holy hand of Abadar, an' solver of whatever problem can be paid to fix."
This man does not worship Abadar, and highly doubts anyone will believe his lie. Still, he does it for some reason.
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A broad shouldered half-orc who stands at 6'7 and has plenty of tattoos on him enters the room, kicking the door open with no great care. He is wearing a mithral breastplate with a mendevian flag on it. He has a Falchion at his side that has a special aura to it.
The man bears no sign of his belonging to the society nor to any faction, aside from one tattoo who looks like metallic wings burning, covering his muscular right arm.
Looking at the persons around, he yells
Shamak looks like he just woke with a really bad hangover and his breath stinks of a interesting mix of mead and beer.
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Another half-orc joins the group, but this one bears no tatoos, but only thick crimson scales that begin at his cheekbones and run down his neck, to his arms. His body is covered in a deep purple robe with gold embroidery showing dragons flying over an army of marching orcs whose hands are ablaze with magical fire. Tucked into his belt are a bevvy of rods and wands. scroll tubes are tucked into bandoliers and at his wrists.
"They call me Lurgh."
The Pathfinders begin the adventure in the Magnimar Pathfinder Lodge at Heidmarch Manor, where they await their briefing in the sitting room. Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch enters the room, gives them a quick once-over and launches into the assignment in her characteristically deep voice.
“Thank you for coming, Pathfinders. You look well qualified for the task at hand, and I’m relieved a team such as yours was available so far from the Society’s heart in Absalom. How familiar are you with the ruins of ancient Thassilon? Well, you’re going to be getting a lot more familiar with one of the most strategically important sites in the entirety of Varisia—the Storval Stairs.
This stairway—carved by giants and scaled appropriately for creatures of their size—provides the easiest means of climbing the Storval Rise west of the Iron Peaks. Thus, it also provides the swiftest means of getting supplies and personnel to and from the ruins of Xin-Shalast and other sites of interest on the Storval Plateau. We had a supply caravan go missing a week ago; its last reported location was near the stairs, and rumors I’ve been hearing from as far away as Riddleport indicate this isn’t the only similar situation in recent months. Some reports claim a tribe of hill giants have claimed the Storval Stairs as their territory and are demanding exorbitant tariffs to pass in either direction. Apparently they’re led by the self-proclaimed King of the Storval Stairs, who doesn’t like the idea of anyone traveling through his kingdom without paying their due.”
A knock sounds on the door, and a messenger sticks her head in shyly. In her hand she holds a leather scroll case embroidered with traditional Varisian beadwork. “A message for you, Lady Heidmarch. From your cousin Guaril in Riddleport.” Sheila accepts the missive, tips the courier, and turns back to the matter at hand, shaking her head.
“I’ve told that greasy charlatan to stop calling me family…” The venture-captain draws the scroll from the case and quickly reads it, raising one eyebrow inquisitively. “Well, this is fortuitous. It seems ‘Cousin’ Karela is also interested in your mission, and wants to ensure your success in a timely fashion. No doubt he has some ulterior motives that don’t align with our own... Then again, we’re likely to use his influence among the Varisian people to populate the supply caravans to and from the Storval Plateau, so perhaps his motivation is not so different after all.
“Travel to the Storval Stairs and confirm what happened to our supply wagons. While you’re there, take care of this so-called king and ensure he and his giant followers don’t present a problem for us in the future. Then hold the location until a larger contingent of Pathfinders arrives to set up a more permanent way station there. It’s nearly a five hundred mile journey, but our ‘cousin’ has seen to it that won’t be a problem for you—he included a scroll here to teleport you to a location another ‘relative’ of his divined as the current location of the supply caravan. He says it was expensive but a good investment, and that you’re worth it.”
Sheila holds the scroll out for the taking, the sketch of the location one should use as its destination visible in its uncurling corner. “Best of luck, Pathfinders.”
Knowledge (history)-The player characters may wish to research the Storval Stairs’ ancient history before heading to the site.
Knowledge (local) or Diplomacy (gather information)-Investigating local news and rumors may give PCs more information about the Storval Stairs in the present day.
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"Sounds more up to my speed than usual," Mavarion says, pondering. "Looking for something big, slaughtering giants along the way. And a witch, you say, friend?" The dwarf fishes several small objects from his robe and juggles them idly about. "I take it the giant problem wasn't always so dire? Obviously there, sure, but not as brazen?"
"Of course they were always there. However, they take offense to the Magimarian government getting involved." Sheila say to Mavarion. "By the way, don't dwarves and giants have a history? You should take extra caution."
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"Yeah, there's a history there," Mavarion comments lightly. "But my nose isn't permanently stuck to a history book. I'm more prone to be careful of those I've personally slighted.
"...Which happens to include giants, among most every other race I can name. And they'll not like me anyway, as you say."
Lurgh finishes the spell and they are instantly teleported to the correct destination.
Five hundred feet from the foot of the Storval Stairs lie the remains of what appears to have recently been a small caravan, now scattered over a large area. Most of the wagons are overturned, and the corpses of livestock, hill giants, and a few humans litter the area. The smell of rotting flesh permeates the air, and a haze of flies surrounds the carcasses on the ground. A pile of broken wagons burns in the center of the wreckage, sending a plume of thick, black smoke into the afternoon air, visible for miles.
Shambling through the remains of the caravan are two giants. One of them happens to see you as you appear just outside of the remains of the caravan. He looks confused for a moment before letting out a guttural yell and raises club.
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus
GM(Black)
Lurgh
Mavarion
Shamak
GM(Blue)
The giant in front charges forward and takes a swing at Mavarion. The giants power lives up to its reputation as it delivers a massive blow to the unaware kineticist.
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus
GM(Black)
Lurgh
Mavarion- 31 damage
Shamak
GM(Blue)
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Shamak inhales and begins to shout at the giant in a raspy and very loud voice a song usually sung in Chelaxian underground scenes.
As his musical performance starts, you all feel enhanced in many more ways than you'd think...
TOTAL BUFF: +4 attack / +4 damage / +2 on saving throws (+4 against fear), ability checks and skill checks.
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A thick, transparent shell shaped just like Mavarion flares into sight just as he is struck, only to shatter at the impact. "Oh, ow," he chuckles, trying to move back and into the air.
As long as he still stands, the dwarf motions at a carcass. It flings itself at the closer giant's legs. "Wanted to use a wagon, but we should look through those."
Lurgh fires off two scorching rays, I am assuming black, they both connect.
Shamak begins his buffs.
Mavarion attempts to tumble with style. But gets thumped down almost immediately.
Mavarian pays dearly for his missteps, but still manages to connect his blast with the giant. But does not manage to knock him down.
The remaining giant charges ahead and attempts to finish Mavarion. But misses on the overhand chop.
Black: 75/158
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus
GM(Black)
Lurgh
Mavarion- 105 total damage.
Shamak
GM(Blue)
Black: 23/158
Blue: 52/85-shaken 2 rounds
Tytus moves up and delivers two quick strikes, sickening the giant.
It grits his teeth and takes a large sweeping swipe. The greatclub connects with Tytus and continues through to Mavarion
Shamak steps forward and lands a single slash at the other giant. Drawing its first blood. It looks down at the half-orc an hesitates.
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus- 31 damage
GM(Black)
Lurgh
Mavarion- 132 total damage.
Shamak
GM(Blue)
Lurgh moves forward and engulfs both giants in flames. Once the flames die down, both giants still stand, but barely.
Black: 0/158=staggered
Blue: 6/85-shaken 2 rounds
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus- 31 damage
GM(Black)
Lurgh
Mavarion- 132 total damage.
Shamak
GM(Blue)
The female giant kicks the half-orc in front of her.
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus- 31 damage
GM(Black)
Lurgh
Mavarion- 132 damage.
Shamak- 21 damage
GM(Blue)
Black: 0/158=staggered
Blue: 6/85-shaken 2 rounds
Tytus swings his chain around once more. It connects with its jaw amd falls forward into the dirt.
Combat Tracker
Bold May Go
Tytus- 31 damage
Lurgh
Mavarion- 132 damage.
Shamak- 21 damage
GM(Blue)
The trio of shuriken fly past the giant.
Shamak's first swing misses, but the backhand catches the giant of guard and lays her open.
Now with the immediate threat neutralized. The party as a chance to survey the area.
The clearing overflows with the shattered and burned wreckage of the caravan. A huge pile of wagons and other debris burns in the center of the clearing to no discernible purpose. The trampled and burned remains of a variety of trade goods litter the clearing. The only item of obvious worth that remains is a pair of finely carved ivory tusks that were hidden from whoever looted the site by an overturned wagon.
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Mavarion stumbles up, ruffled. "Damn giants. Woulda prepared better, it's been a while since I've been in a worthwhile scrap."
He starts piecing himself together as the force shield also begins to reform, then disappears from sight. "Don't worry, I haven't bailed yet. Just remembering to be cautious is all," he says, voice fading a bit as he rises.
"Nice animal that came from, probably," his voice come from nowhere as the horn is looked over. "Do they have big beasts around here?"