[PFS] GM kuey's Gallows of Madness (Inactive)

Game Master kuey

Please ninja-dot, i.e. post something random, then delete the post immediately, so that this game will appear in your campaign page.

Breakfast is barely over when you are called into Venture Captain Drandle Dreng’s office.

The Venture Captain is partially hidden behind stacks of papers. This is not helped by he large, steaming mug of tea his is currently slurping from.

"Ah, yes, Pathfinders. No need to sit. This won't take long. I recently received a letter from a lady I knew a long time ago. Sadly, it was not to rekindle any private relation, but a plea for help in the professional fashion so to speak. Sandra Trinelli is now the mayor of the town Saringallow. In the last week or so, youngsters have been disappearing. There have also been sightings of unusually large vermin. She fears foul play, but wants to keep any investigation on the down low. The population of Saringallow is very superstitious, and she fears that there will be panic in the streets otherwise."

Dreng takes another slurp of his tea. "I’ve known Sandra to be a level-headed woman. If she fears that there is foul play, it most likely is. We are normally not in the habit of returning lost youngsters. But Saringallow is one of the few towns that came trough the Goblinblood wars unscathed. Its central location next to the Conerica river makes it an exelent base of operations to explore nearby ruins in the Chitterwood. If we can find out what is going on, and win the locals over at the same time, it would mean a solid base of operations for the Society."

Mind already on something else, Dreng waves you away. "Now off you go. There is a boat waiting for you at the docks setting off in a couple of hours. I see you have your gear already. Good. Enough time for any last minutes purchases and ask around the city a bit. Mayor Trinelli will answer your questions about what is going on once you reach Saringallow. Chop, chop, off you go."

Dismissed rather unceremoniously, you stand outside his room glancing around, not even having the chance to introduce yourselves. So you do so as you head back out into Absalom City and make your to the docks.

Some of you may already know something Saringallow or find out things from speaking to people along the streets. You may reveal spoilers for your roll up to the respective DCs for the following respective checks.
Knowledge(History or Nobility)

Knowledge(Local) or Diplomacy

The strange black and purple ooze that sort of sloshes and sort of spins its way like a ball sits outside of Dreng's office with the rest of you. It has acted entirely non-hostile this time.

"Pbt." The noise is heard from the strange ooze. It writes with a strange tentacle appendage into the ground in front of you all.

Call me GAB! I am a Pathfinder. Nice to meet you :)

It holds its tentacle forward, as if offering to shake hands, then goes back and writes into the ground.

I promise I am not toxic unless I spit.

I have none of the above skills.

You can attempt Knowledge of DC10, and diplomacy might always work. :)

Blobby Knowledge History DC10: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1
Blobby Knowledge Local DC10: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9

GAB! draws circles in the ground, then a question mark. The blob appears to know nothing about Saringallow.

Diplomacy DC10: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
As GAB! goes out searching for answers, it finds most people don't wish to talk to an ooze.

GAB! decides the best action for now is to go find a merchant who can help GAB! stock up on supplies. With some crayons and a bit of paper, GAB! uses its tentacle to write up a list of items.

GAB! rolls over to a merchant stall, where a balding middle-aged mustached man wearing a tan working apron and light linen clothing sees the familiar ball of whats-it roll up to him. GAB! hands the list over to the merchant, and the man looks it over carefully.

Some time later

GAB! returns to the party with a barrel, masterwork backpack full of GAB!'s drawing supplies, and two potions of Cure Light Wounds he bought in his previous adventure. Attached to the backpack is a note.

Feel free to use the potions, and backpack. Stuff me in the barrel when you need me hidden.

A very androgenous Kebro wears a tattered dark brown wide brimmed hat, worn out bandanna over their face that was once black but now worn to grayish. Piercing green eyes, light colored long whispy hair, weathered light skinned face, and pointed ears under the hat. They wear a tight vest, fitted worn hide armor, and boots all shades of brown and seemingly "patchwork". Over all of this is a collared cloak, tattered and worn, with a split in the bottom middle of it resembling wings, long enough to wrap around fully for protection from the elements. Kebro uses a spear as a walking stick, multiple short spears strapped to their back, scimitar at their side, and every once in a while a small multi-hued scarab beetle can be seen darting around their person.
"Nice to meet you all. My name is Kebro and this is Elytra." Kebro almost whispers with a voice as raspy as the desert wind. A small sized scarab beetle pokes it's head out of the cloak and chitters a bit.
knowledge history: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
knowledge local: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
"All I know of Saringallow is the town thrives on the varied commerce that passes through its high walls thanks to the river that is next to it."

Striding in with no shortage of confidence, a half-orc in the latest Taldan finery. "Yes, this must be the place. My name is Krennel Halfstool, of the Almas Halfstools from Andoran's beautiful capital. My (adopted) father was a captain with the Eagle Knights actually." His eyes survey those at the gathering before stepping up and offering a hand of greeting to all who are present. Each shake of the hand is accompanied by a simple, "Pleasure to meet you." When he finally comes to 'GAB!', the alchemist not-so-discretely pulls out a scented handkerchief and covers his nose. After an uncomfortable silence, "Ah ... yes...well...here you are. Freedom for all and all that I guess... little ...goo?" Continuing to cover his nose, "Well...this mission must be more important than I thought as some of us were ...in more of a hurry to get here than others and could not stop to bathe." He looks to the others as he points to the amorphous mass. "I'm sorry, who does this belong to? Is it a familiar or companion of some kind? My first thought was an eidolon, but I don't see any markings." He takes one last disinterested look. "Well, congratulations to whomever brought you. They found the single most disgusting I have seen yet. And I have met a gillman." Though the half-orc wants to poke 'it' with a stick, he resists the urge to do just that.

Who the devil is the Society letting in these days?

of the town Saringallow.

"They must be desperate. Let's just say that the townsfolk are not known for their warmth to outsiders. There is a reason it's not a tourist destination. I mean, they built that huge wall after all. Even though we're there to help, don't expect them to accept us." Krennel looks down his nose at the blob, "Heavens know what they'll think of him."

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (17) - 2 = 15

"Pbbbbbt!" GAB!'s tentacle comes out and gives Krennel what could be considered a salute?

Krennel looks down his nose at the blob, "Heavens know what they'll think of him."

GAB!'s tentacle pushes the newly purchased barrel forward.

"Your plan is to hide in a barrel? That will not be awkward at all. We'll just walk in to the mayor's office. Then what? You stay in there? You pop out and give her a heart attack?" The alchemist looks toward the venture-captain. "Do you care to chime in on this? Hello?!?!" With no response forthcoming, I swear, this addle-minded fool should be retired! Krennel again deigns to speak to GAB! "Tell me little...thing, where is your owner? Maybe they have some idea of what to do with you."

GAB! jumps into the barrel, and now looks like a dark liquid.
"Blorp!"

The barrel rocks and falls to its side. GAB! begins to roll the barrel around while inside it, landing the barrel near Krennel's foot.
"Blorp Blorp!"

"Hey hey! Watch it! These are brand new boots. I don't want to get...you... all over them."

Krennel lifts his calf high boot up to a chair and starts wiping vigorously. To most in the room, there does not seem to be anything on them. The half-orc calls over his shoulder, "Do you stain? Why am I even talking to you? Ugh! I can't imagine the cleaning bill for this." He turns half a head back to GAB!, "And whoever you belong to is going to pay that bill, every copper." He goes back to work on cleaning non-existant GAB! parts off of his boot, muttering to himself all the while. "Sakes alive! I mean, who just brings a pet like that and leaves it in a room unattended. Somebody could get hurt. Man oh man, someone is getting an earful when they get back. Aw, look at that. It's not coming out. Now I'm gonna have to buy that wand of Prestidigitation. I wonder what that's going to set me back."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Yen Wu shook his head, "We might see if we can find out what they need and they might help us in return. The hard part is finding out what they need. GAB! might be on to something. If we get him, er her, er it in where they can listen in to what is going on, it might narrow down what the town needs. the Viskanya said as he parted his eyebrows with his tongue.

"Blorp!" It sounded a lot like enthusiasm.

"Good thinking. GAB we could ship you in and after some reconasense, you could slip back out fairly unnoticed."
Kebro kneels next to the ooze.
"How small are you able to get? My Elytra may be able to carry you if the barrel does not work."

Elytra peeks her head out of the cloak, skitters down Kebros arm, hops to the floor beside GAB, and chitters happily.
even though the build says "giant beetle companion" Elytra is small size.

GAB! remains silent for just a moment or two. Then suddenly it begins to shrink rapidly. GAB! Now looks like it is 1/4th its original size and appears to not be straining in the slightest.

A well dressed Elf approaches the collection of pathfinders our in the street. ”I seem to be running late. I was supposed to be... I had a meeting with... with a.... ” he looks down at his notes, adjusting the glasses on his face. ”A Mr. Drandle Dreng? Might you offer me some assistance to direct? I am afraid I was supposed to be meeting a few others...”

He stops and looks around at the group assembled. Ohh... you would, perchance, be pathfinders? Rithon, mage extraordinaire, at your service!”

Local: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

————————————
”Right you are about the locals. It takes a famously long time to warm up to strangers!”

Rel is a handsome man of average build. He is decked out in some not-so great looking armor, but bears a beautifully carved and painted holy symbol of Shelyn around his neck.

Greetings and apologies for the delay - one never knows when inspiration will strike and need to be answered.

Looking at Gab,

What an interesting array of colors you are... I have never seen such a shade of green before

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

After a few moments, Rithon startles, looking down at the ooze. "Well, I'll be... I read about such a thing in a textbook- but I never thought that..."

There is a moment of silence

"Oh bother, how very rude of me! My name is Rithon, my new friend. I find your arcane nature very interesting!"

Alright, let's get going!

Satisfied with all the shopping, the Pathfinders make it just in time to the boat. The captain is glaring at you impatiently as you board in a passive-aggressive manner, clearly eager to set off to deliver his goods, but otherwise doesn't say anything.

Clearly, the Mayor's request was urgent for Drendle had hired a fast craft. In less a day, the ship has already entered the Bay of Solva and sailing up the River Iseld through the lands of demon-worshipping Cheliax. By the 3rd day, the ship has already entered the Conerica River into Isger, vassal state of Cheliax. From Misarias, it is less than a day before the boat docks at your destination, the small town of Saringallow.

What strikes you almost immediately as your boat nears the town is a sense of unwelcome. Few towns you have come across has as extensive and high walls that seem to surround the entire town. And they are not just a relic of history for they appear well-maintained and you can spot active patrols on them.

Indeed when you disembark from the ship, although the ship inspector is not actively rude, he clearly is not being particularly hospitable either. He curtly ask for your business in town, and studies very carefully the very brief letter from the Mayor requesting your presence as if suspecting forgery. Only after he has satisfied himself does he loosen somewhat, and very professionally directs you to the Town Hall near the centre of the town where her office is.

Time now is approximately late morning. Will pause here briefly before hopping us to the Mayor.

Even though they have important business in this town, Kebro keeps conversation with the locals to a minimum. Mostly sticking to polite nods, aware that some areas of the world are wary of newcomers for their own reasons. For now Elytra will stay under the cloak as well.

The half-orc pulls the brim of his hat down low. Who knows how these...agrarians will react. Best to let the others do the talking.

Looking at Gab,

What an interesting array of colors you are... I have never seen such a shade of green before

When Rel says 'green', GAB! frantically starts to jiggle. It looks like it is trying to see if something got on its body. After a few moments, the Ooze begins to relax.

"Oh bother, how very rude of me! My name is Rithon, my new friend. I find your arcane nature very interesting!"

GAB! seems confused by the word Arcane, as if not really understanding what that means, but gurgles what seems to be a greeting.

At the port after docking.

GAB! shyly gets into his barrel and begins to roll it near someone, hoping they look like they are just kicking the barrel around.

Last purchases. Acid flask x1, Tanglefoot bag x1

Rithon avoids being on deck during the travel, instead hanging below deck reading and rereading his spellbook- via candlelight if necessary. He practices his small incantations- lifting, moving, cleaning the small area he as managed to hole up in for privacy.

When seen, he appears somewhat unkempt- despite the niceties of his robes, and looking as though he has had very little sleep.

As they approach into the bay, Rithon does move up to the decks- watching with some apathy as the ship slides into the bay.

"How quaint. Thinking that walls provide much protection..." he mutters to himself.

Getting off the boat, he resists to urge to lecture the docksman, instead staying silent while the others answer his questions. If asked directly, he "harumphs" before answering and greets passive inhospitality with his own. Once the dock master leaves, he turns toward the others.

"I imagine heading to the mayor right away will be valuable. Perhaps she can give us a token of some sort to help identify our purposes. I would like to not have to common folk hindering our investigations at every turn"

It seems easy to believe there is something going on here - there is a palpable air of paranoia. This would be an oppressive environment to live in - let us hope we are able to get to the bottom of what is going on.

Rel will not go out of his way to engage townsfolk until the group has spoken with the Mayor, though he will be happy to talk with any who approach him, though he will shy away from topics of why they are there at this time.

GAB! realizes no one is pushing the barrel, so instead the little ooze that could flips the barrel upside down, and begins to squirm its way forward, usually darting between cover and hideaways. It pays careful effort to have no one notice that the barrel is moving.

GAB! stealth: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Despite GAB!'s best efforts, a number of townsfolk spot the mysterious barrel sliding from spot to spot. The only reason that he is not confronted is that (1) it's a moving barrel! and (2) it seems to belong to the group of 5 strangers for it was clearly moving together with them. This, however, only adds to the general wariness that the townsfolk display towards Pathfinders. As you make you way towards the town hall, most passersby give you suspicious looks and a wide berth. Particularly avoiding the strange barrel.

The town hall complex dominates the center of Saringallow. Several large buildings overlook the rest of the town. The town hall itself is a two story building, with the offices appearing to be on the ground floor. A crowded garrison, what appears to be an armory, and tidy stables surround a large military-style training ground. A number of guards are milling about, including two at the entrance. They wave you in curtly after reading the note. Together, you carry the barrel up the short flight of stairs into the building and enter the Mayor's office.

The plush red carpet and oak furniture upholstered with velvet lend this room an air of comfort, but it’s also clearly a place of official business, with several layers of administrative papers, staff memos, maps, and charts covering the wide surface of the solid desk in the center. From her tall-backed chair behind her desk, Mayor Sandra Trinelli looks up, shaking herself out of a deep concentration.

"You are the Pathfinders that Dreng has sent?" Upon your affirmation, a subtle look of relief flashes across her face as she motions to the oversized chairs in front of her. She stares curiously at the barrel and starts when GAB! reveals himself. She glances at the rest of you, but seeing no alarm, assume the creature belongs to one of you and soldiers on.

"Normally, I’d exchange more pleasantries with my guests, but I fear there is no time," she says. "The business that brought you here is quite urgent — it may actually be a matter of life and death."

"Let me explain. You may have heard that several young apprentices from various establishments in Saringallow have disappeared in the last couple of weeks. Every one of them has failed to show up to work, and nobody seems to know where they’ve gone."

"That’s not all. Rumors are spreading about sightings of enormous insects roaming about town. So far, the townspeople have chalked up such rumors to overactive imaginations, but I fear they might be real, and that they might have something to do with the missing apprentices. I have no proof that the situations are connected, but if folks get that notion into their heads, things are bound to spiral out of control.”
She shifts nervously, as if avoiding an uncomfortable implication, before continuing."

"Please, I implore you to look into this matter quietly and thoroughly — find out where our apprentices have gone and discover the cause of our vermin problem. Don’t jump to conclusions until you have investigated every possible angle; we need to be absolutely sure that we know who or what is responsible before we take any necessary law-enforcement actions."

"I suggest you start by interviewing the masters of every missing apprentice on this list I’ve compiled. I suspect that, collectively, they might shed some light on the youngsters’ whereabouts. That could in turn illuminate our vermin problem, but until we have more information, I caution you against suggesting to anyone that the two situations are connected. Beyond that, though, you have my full cooperation in this matter. If anyone gives you guff about your line of questioning, show them this letter." The mayor pushes a scrap of paper with several names scribbled on it across her desk, a rolled-up, ribbon-bound letter written on thick parchment, and a simple map of the town. (See Handouts #1 and #2, as well as town map in maps and handouts.)

Glancing at Elytra, she adds, "I've known of those with druidic arts to have connections with vermin, but during this time, you might want to keep it hidden. The villagers might not understand." Looking at GAB!, she continues, "Or that for the matter."

"As far as an incentive," the mayor adds, "I’ve pooled together 50 gold pieces as a reward for each apprentice you manage to find and rescue, as well as an additional 100 gold pieces if you can determine the cause of our vermin problem — and eliminate it. Do we have a deal?"

You may ask whatever questions you have. Separately, showing the Mayor's letter may provide bonuses in your social interactions in this town. Saringallow Sundries, the town's general store, will also grant a 10% discount on nonmagical items or weapons.

GAB!'s tentacle hold forward its journal, with green crayon chalk writing inside.

Do we get lodging? :)

"I have a feeling that the faster we speak to the masters the quicker we can get out of their hair." Yen Wu said, looking towards the mayor.

However, let us not miss a chance to get some information that might help us. Did they associate with each other? Where did these insects first start to appear? Is there any remains of them in the area we can check out?" he asked

"Find the kids, kill the vermin. Understood." With a resigned sigh of 'Why me?', Krennel grabs the journal, reads it, dumps it back in the barrel so it hits bottom, quickly slams down the lid and leans on it to hold it shut. "So, will we be provided with room and board as well?" After hearing a loud <<THUD>> from the container. "And a place for our... I don't know...things? I guess?" With a small shake of his head, he holds up a hand toward the mayor. "Please do not ask. This is embarrassing enough."

Mayor Trinelli can't help but stare in wonder and suspicion at the blob holding out a journal, and gets curious when she sees Krennel read from it. But she diplomatically chooses not to ask.

"Room and board?" You can see her considering the request, torn between dipping into more of the town's funds vs hope to get this mystery over and done with with quickly. "Fine, show that letter to The Seagoing Mermaid inn at the docks. I'll send word to set aside a couple of rooms for you."

Turning to the Vishkanya, she pauses briefly considering his strange appearance, but is too polite to show how much it bothers her. "The masters would definitely have interacted with each other. This is not a large town after all. Well, maybe not Petrello and Drummady. They are husband and wife but have separated for some time now. I wish I could say it was an amiable affair but it was not. Otherwise, all the masters go about their businesses, some more successful than others. They make use of each other's services like any other townfolk. I have not noticed anything suspicious. I doubt they would have been involved in the apprentices' disappearances."

"As for the vermin, the first report I received was a couple weeks of ago, but rumours starting surfacing one or two weeks before that. Unfortunately, no remains. Those who have claimed to encountered them have fled the encounters."

Kebro smiles.
"Understood mayor. Thank you for the lodgings. It will be most helpfull. Do not worry, we will get to the bottom of this."
I wonder if the insects are a coincidence. I would hate to have to kill them.

Elytra chimes in and chitters loudly at Kebros feet.

"Ah yes, is there any proof of the insects actually attacking anybody?

What about politics as a motive? Is there anyone that dislikes all of the masters, or all of the apprentices for that matter?

"Ah, all good questions!" the elf remarks, looking across the pathfinders. "Politics are commonly a motive, with people trying to gain more power or hold onto what they already have...". Rithon's voice trails off, lost in thought, before he snaps back immediately to the present.

"That is, uh, not to say that you would have any of that such thing, Mayor. Guilty people, in my experience, don't tend to hire detectives of our renown..."

The look on Rithon's face appears somewhat flabbergasted at his faux pas, and quietly mumbles something indistinct to himself.

Real smooth elf! He's gonna talk us out of a job.

"Ah yes, is there any proof of the insects actually attacking anybody?

"Not for now, thank goodness. Or the whole town would be in an uproar!" The mayor then pauses. "Unless they are the ones responsible for the disappearance of the apprentices. But it would be strange that the vermin are only targeting them?" She frowns, looking worried.

What about politics as a motive? Is there anyone that dislikes all of the masters, or all of the apprentices for that matter?

"I really can't think of any. I would not doubt that some of the masters might have crossed certain towns people in the course of their businesses. Sarenrae knows how many people Gunty has offended whenever he gets into his foul mood, and only his delicious bread keeps townsfolk returning. And even Alcie is occasionally foul-mouthed. Oh, she runs the tavern. As for the apprentices, well they are... well, they're young and get into all kinds of trouble around the town every other day. But not to the extent of harming them? I hope."

"Politics? As a town, we get by, but none of us are particularly wealthy. I mean, our walls kept us safe from the Goblinblood Wars all those years ago. And with the occasional goblin raids continuing, we do fare better than some towns in Isger. The river brings commerce through our town, but the neighboring troubles does put a damper on that somewhat."

She then smiles gently at Rithon. "I trust you have met some of my fellow townsfolk? Trust me, being in charge of them is ten times worse the herding a swarm of cats. At the very most, they tolerate the office. I seriously doubt anyone else would want my job."

Any more questions?

From inside the barrel comes a sound.
"Blorp!"

The barrel then flips on its side, and begins to roll towards the door.
SMACK!

It backs up and tries again.
SMACK!

It pauses for a moment, then the top pops off gently. The Oozemorph grabs the top, shifts the barrel on top of itself, then exits the door.

Out of sight of everyone and being alone, GAB! suddenly begins folding in on itself repeatedly and quickly. GAB! now looks like a six-foot female of Shoanti descent dressed in simple clothing with well packed muscles.

Using my 1 free hour of Fluidic Body to be ready to gather information with the rest of the team. Each hour tried to maintain afterwards requires a DC15 Fortitude (+1 per additional hour) to maintain this form.

GAB! is still an it because no one really knows what gender it is. This ability works like Alter Self.

"Thank you mayor for all your help. We will get to the bottom if this."
Kebro bows slightly and heads out the door and nearly trips on the barrel.
"Whoops excuse me GAB...
Kebro looks in the barrel. Upon seeing no ooze inside, looks up and down the street.
"Pardon me miss." Kebro looks to the person standing outside.
"This might sound strange, but have you seen an amorphous blob around? It is quite nice I ensure you."

Elytra follows Kebro out the door, hovering about head height the whole time. After Her owner looks in the barrel she repeats the action.

"GAB! is here. GAB! can't be human long. GAB! help." The woman says in a voice that does not match what you would expect to come out of her. Then she clears her throat, and starts speaking with a lower pitch.
"Does this sound more normal?"

The conversation continues, until Rithon notices the change in GAB! and turns in astonishment.

"Well, I'll be..." He quickly riffles through his pouch producing a notebook to jot down a few notes, still mumbling under his breath. [smaller]"I don't think that I have ever seen anything like that... what type of arcane forces could manage such things..."

As they step out into the streets, Rithon looks about, blinking in the bright sun.

"I suppose we should know more about these missing apprentices. Who they are, where they worked, and what have you. Never know where these threads will connect."

The human-form GAB! says politely to Rithon. "I have reason to believe this is actually of natural forces instead, though I could not specify for certain."

"Since I am under a time limit, I will make haste to record some information from as many masters as I can before I will require my hiding place. If you do not hear from me, I would suggest looking for my barrel near the tavern. I would suspect that humans who have indulged in alcohol would remain unaware of a moving barrel."

The giant Shoanti woman, barrel under arm, takes off and heads for one of the masters...

Random: 1d6 ⇒ 6

... Towards the Dependable Drummady, master of Pavolus Laterna.

"We have to start somewhere. Since it appears that a good chunk of the apprentices worked to the Southeast of the town hall, we can make our way to visit them. The Haberdashery it over there while the Tavern and Cobbler are next to each other. Further down is the Bakery and Potions. That just leaves the Temple over there." Yen Wu said pointing out the locations

The mayor stares incredulously as the barrel starts making its exit, but again, is too polite to comment. Before she bids you farewell, she puts in one final bid of the urgency.

Trinelli sighs and gazes out the picture window beside her desk. "Our people are a superstitious lot. It’s a painful history," she admits, "but more than a hundred years ago, our town was little more than rural holdings belonging to Cheliax’s House Sarini. At some point, the Sarinis began dabbling in diabolism. It made everyone uncomfortable by all accounts, but no one said anything until it was too late."

She pauses, and when she continues her voice is filled with palpable anger. "Those horrible nobles exsanguinated several innocent youths in service to their dark patrons, like they were nothing but toys. The townspeople rose up, and in their rage, they hanged every Sarini they could get their hands on. They changed the town’s name to Sarini Gallows as a warning, though it eventually became Saringallow. Since then we’ve never knowingly suffered a Sarini’s presence in our town."

The mayor takes a deep breath, calming the passion that welled inside her while recounting the tale. "However," she continues, "We paid a price back then even beyond the lives of those young people. During the hangings, the townspeople began turning on each other, accusing folks of diabolism at every turn. The real villains lost their lives, but so did many innocent people. If folks begin to assume that foul play is behind the apprentices’ disappearances, they might decide to mete out justice against an innocent person. Or if they come to believe the two situations are related, they may begin to suspect a diabolic or otherwise foul influence, and there would be panic in the streets. Under no circumstances can I allow that to happen." Taking a deep breath, she finishes, "So please, get the root of the issue as soon as you can."

With such a charge, the rest of the Pathfinders take their leave in ominous silence.

----

Other than visiting the masters, you have the option of also gathering information around town about the apprentices. However, this would take 1d4 hours. Have to ask because of GAB!'s transformation. Otherwise, let me know which apprentice's master you would like to visit first. I don't think GAB!'s form can last for all six visits though. Unless you guys are planninng to split the party like what GAB! seemed to have done?

Gonna have to split the party at some point anyways; GAB! can't remain in this form long enough to visit everyone and would have to park at the tavern until everyone else was done if we stuck together.

If I branch off on my own, I at least don't slow down the party. At least, that is my thinking on this anyways. Apologies if that makes it more complicated GM. If it does, I can just park GAB! at the tavern and hide until everyone else is done.

Kebro laughs long and hard at the wonders of their ooze friend.
"I will take the haberdasher."

I guess that is true, I was thinking it was know arcana for oozes, but it is actually know dungeon. I stand corrected.

"That seems most reasonable, friend. I apologize if my interest has come across primarily as academic as opposed to collegial. I shall make an effort to prevent such oversight in the future"

There is a sound as the elf clears his throat.

"This might come as a surprise to you, but I don't possess what you might call, people skills. It might be best if I tagged along with someone else with more experience dealing with people, and not books"

Happy to be rid of away from GAB!, Krennel seems eager to get to work. "I guess it would make the most sense for me to seek out Pricknettle's. It would seem we share a language afterall."