GM supervillan's Feast of Ravenmoor [PFS Gameday VIII] (Inactive)

Game Master supervillan

Angela takes a bit of a back seat after the ferry, deciding to let the full pathfinders take the lead. She does give a small shock of surprise as Golthwur proves he does have some use other than casting spells and garnering people's anger.

Though once she gets to the feast she decides to (proverbially) let her hair down (this thing takes a good 50 minutes to stay in place and, given the potential for jarring on assignment, has enough hair wax it probably wouldn't unbend if she took out the pins.) She makes sure to drop her pack at the mayors house, stashing it under her bed, but keeping her longspear and wayfinder close at hand just in case.

She gives a good look around the feast area and festivities and decides to try her hand at the fire jumping. She trundles up to the group and gives them a cool smile. "Seems that there's more meaning to this fire jumping than I can see. Anyone want to fill me in, and can outsiders participate?"

Byron immediately gravitates to the food, purchasing some tick legs. He'll take Compy out and share some with him, and walk around the fair, avoiding the raven fights.

Perception, watching the crowds: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

"Seems that there's more meaning to this fire jumping than I can see. Anyone want to fill me in, and can outsiders participate?"

"I see no reason why participation would be limited merely to beings of the material plane." replies Golthwur with a smirk. "Though why any outsiders would waste a good gate spell to venture to this forsaken place would be quite a mystery indeed."

The wizard neither has the stomach for stirge or tick nor the youthful vigor for jumping or wrestling. Instead, he merely casts detect magic, sets back, and makes observations.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Gronkh is still disappointed that there's no horse racing, but he'll take what he can get. "Aye, 3-legged race it is then. Who wants t' race wit' me?" He begins to remove his armor to get ready for what is sure to be a festive occasion.

Angela Isafira wrote:

"Seems that there's more meaning to this fire jumping than I can see. Anyone want to fill me in, and can outsiders participate?"

"I see no reason why participation would be limited merely to beings of the material plane." replies Golthwur with a smirk. "Though why any outsiders would waste a good gate spell to venture to this forsaken place would be quite a mystery indeed."

Angela gives a small mental sigh and pauses for a second. "You know I meant someone from outside of the town. Outsider can mean more than the magical term."

She gives a holler over at Gronkh "I can if you don't mind poteintailly literally carrying me through the race! Also If you tied up one of your horse's legs he could compete by himself, couldn't he?"

Jeskit is interested in the leaping over fires. Oy there, I would join you in this leaping contest. What is awarded to the victor? He begins unbuckling his breastplate.

Yagaji offers Gronkh his biggest, brightest (and only kind of) smile. "Yagajimoro Iodoma would be most honored and humbled to enter the three legged race with Gronkh. So...how do we grow a third leg, and is it some sort of relay race, or do we compete individually?"

Gronkh thanks Angela for her offer to participate, but thinks that perhaps he'd best assist Yagaji.

"Well, it's simple really. We just need to get some branches and then we strap them to our shins and run like that, as fast as we can. We should find out if we can use any trees, or if they have specific requirements. Why don't you go ask and I'll wait here?"

Gronkh thanks Angela for her offer to participate, but thinks that perhaps he'd best assist Yagaji.

"Well, it's simple really. We just need to get some branches and then we strap them to our shins and run like that, as fast as we can. We should find out if we can use any trees, or if they have specific requirements. Why don't you go ask and I'll wait here?"

Angela gives her short feet a long glance and then looks up at the significantly taller Gronkh, and his much longer legs. With a wry smile she comments "I am a third your height. You would probably just be dragging me around! Do not worry about it."

The Dreamer's Leap

Angela and Jeskit approach the group of villagers by the bonfire. The fire is small, having only recently been lit, but it is readily apparent from the amount of peat and wood on hand that it will grow to a much larger size. Youths and elders take it in turns to jump the fire whilst other villagers look on.

"Ye can take a turn, if ye wish, strangers. If the flames lick yer arse, 'tis a sign that the Dreamer favours ye! Good luck will be yer lot!"

"Aye, that's th' prize, 'tis!"

"Ye can try now, little miss" an elder says to Angela. "But ye'll need t' wait till the fire is full" he says to Jeskit.

Jumping the flames requires an Acrobatics (jump) check: Angela may attempt this whilst the fire is smaller, and has a DC10. Jeskit when the fire is bigger, DC12.
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Byron finds the roast giant tick leg quite flavoursome, though he's not entirely sure whether or not he's supposed to eat the shell as well as the meat. The villagers all seem to be enjoying the festivities, and some of them go so far as to invite him to join them at an idle game of dice, or to go and watch the raven fights. "Is tha' a bald raven, mister? Is 'e a good fighter?" one youth points at Compy.
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Golthwur keeps largely to himself, and is hardly surprised to find that the village is entirely mundane - not a glimmer of a magical aura in sight. They may keep magical beasts as pets, but the manner of domestication is evidently not sorcerous in origin.
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The three-legged-race

Gronkh and Yagaji line up for the race with several pairs of villagers. Each pairing has their legs bound one to the other's so as to require the pairing to move as though one three-legged creature.

A man and a woman, possibly young lovers, take a steady pace and move ahead; two eager youths try to outpace them, but one of them stumbles and both pitch into the ground! Two girls, the last pair of racers, giggle and laugh at them as they pass at speed.

Race positions:
Jack & Jyl: 15 feet
Egor & Sav: 0 feet, prone
Moreena & Joanna: 30 feet
Gronkh & Jeskit: ??

Acrobatics rolls needed from Gronkh & Jeskit

"Eh, Compy? No, not a raven. Not much a fighter, either, but he is poisonous, which I suppose counts for something."

Byron will happily engage in a little idle gambling.

Gronkh removes his armor and ties his leg together with Yagaji's, all while muttering about how "This ain't my idea of a tree-like-it race!"

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Gronkh's unarmored speed is 30'

Yagaji will likewise remove his armor, and ask the comedian to keep an eye on it.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Full Speed is also 30'

Oh that's hilarious. Given how the rules are set up, Angela would be better at the three legend race than the people with longer legs.

Angela takes a moment to wriggle out of her chain shirt and stretches before getting closer to the fire. "I take it we are required to jump in a specific manner, or can one jump free of set style? Know what I will try both." She runs and tries to jump in the same manner as the old man before her.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

She then lines up again to try a small somersault-esque maneuver, curling into a ball in mid air and then trying to land on her feet.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

ouch super closer to not making that DC...

"Oooh, good jumpin', little miss! Now let's feed the fire some, an' yer scaly frien' c'n try!"

Meanwhile, in the three-legged race, Gronkh and Yagaji keep pace with the fastest villagers...

Jack & Jyl make steady progress. Egor & Sav get to their feet, nothing bruised but their egos. Joanna has a fit of the giggles, and brings herself and her partner crashing down into the muddy ground.

Race positions:
Jack&Jyl: 30'
Egor&Sav: 0'
Moreena&Joanna: 30', prone
Gronkh&Yagaji: 30' + roll

If you want, Gronkh and Yagaji, you can agree a strategy for the race then post 5 skill checks each, so we don't spend a whole week on the 3 legged race ;)

GM, Re the race, I'm not clear about what strategy choices we have? Aren't we just supposed to make Acrobatics rolls? Do we have any decisions to make?

Noticing the halfling's attempt at the Dreamer's Leap, Golthwur smirks to himself. He casts expeditious retreat on himself, then walks over towards the flames. "Is it too late for an old man such as myself to take a go at a leap?"

GM, Re the race, I'm not clear about what strategy choices we have? Aren't we just supposed to make Acrobatics rolls? Do we have any decisions to make?

Your decision is how fast to try to 'run' - do you attempt a more difficult Acrobatics check? I took your first attempts to be against DC10 for moving full normal speed.

"Fire look a' mite big for us old 'uns now" an elder answers Golthwur.

"Try if ye likes, Pops" adds a youngster.

Jeskit stretches his legs out a bit and goes for a jump.

Jump, running start, 40ft speed.: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Not as graceful as I would have liked. Felt the flames lick my feet. Does it get bigger? I would try again.

"Fire look a' mite big for us old 'uns now" an elder answers Golthwur.

"Try if ye likes, Pops" adds a youngster.

"I...'likes'." Golthwur replies, spitting out the last word with obvious disdain for the youngster's poor grammar.

Rolling up his sleeves, the old man has some difficulty bending over into a starting position. However, when he believes the moment is right, he moves forward with uncanny--indeed, unnatural--speed and gives a flying leap over the larger flame.

If I calculated this right, then expeditious retreat increases Golthwur's 30 ft. base land speed to 60 ft. Creatures with a base land speed above 30 feet receive a +4 racial bonus on Acrobatics checks made to jump for every 10 feet of their speed above 30 feet. Therefore, Golthwur's spell grants him a +12 bonus to his Acrobatics check in addition to his +2 Dex bonus.

Acrobatics (DC 12?): 1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 12 + 2 = 31

With supernaturally enhanced skill, he well clears the fire and even manages to stick the landing, though it is clear that he experiences a crick of pain in his bony, left knee upon returning to the earth.

Obviously, pleased with his own performance, Golthwur lays on a bit of what the kids may refer to as 'smack', "That, I believe, is how it is done."

Ah, ok - I didn't realize we needed to choose which we were going for. Gronkh will go for the DC 10 result since he's not really very limber

Acrobatics DC 10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Acrobatics DC 10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Acrobatics DC 10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Acrobatics DC 10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Acrobatics DC 10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Ugh. Like I said, not too limber...

"Yer that wizardy fella folks is talkin' 'bout, intcha?" says a watching youth to Golthwur. "Ain't no way an elder c'n jump like tha' wit'out magic. Kinda feels like cheatin'. Now yer scaly frien' there, 'e's got th' idea!"

"Aye, we tend the flame, as th' Dream Tender tends... well... tends dreams. Aye." one of the older folk nods sagely at Jeskit as the nagaji just clears the flames.

Yagaji if you can give me 5 Acrobatics checks we'll see how this race goes!

Following his partner's lead, Yagaji attempts to stride along at full speed. Clearly there's some trick to this race that eludes him.

Acro DC:10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
Acro DC:10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Acro DC:10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Acro DC:10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Acro DC:10: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Three-legged race

Gronkh stumbles, and though he does not fall the pathfinder pair fail to make real progress. Still the race is tight!

The race continues, as Jack and Jyl set a steady pace and pull ahead. The pairs of youngsters end up rolling around in the mud giggling, and Yagaji and Gronkh get progressively more tangled up in each other until they too are on the ground, stuck in the dirt and unable to right themselves.

Jack and Jyl pull ahead, building an unassailable lead, and cross the finish line as victors with their rivals far behind them.
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Elsewhere in the festival grounds the raven fights continue.

The smith has opened his wooden box, and several villagers are taking turns throwing objects at the straw bales.

Anything else you'd like to try out or do?

Jeskit would be interested in throwing stuff if there's not more to do with the fire jump.

Gronkh grumbles something about being a jockey, not a horse, and tries to encourage the locals to add "real racing" to the festivities.

"In't got enough 'orses 'ere fer racin' sir." says one of the villagers to Gronkh. And indeed, it does look like Horace is going to be short of company in Ravenmoor.

Fallng Stars

Jeskit goes to see what the smith is up to. He discovers a small group of villagers engaged in a throwing contest. They hurl starknives at three straw bales placed at increasing distances.

"Here to try yer luck?" asks the smith. "Whoever gets the most hits on the farthest bales wins. Yer's got six sacred starknives t' try with."

Meanwhile, the raven fights continue.

Jeskit eyes the bales, Understood, let's have a look then. He walks over to the table of starknives and weighs one in his hands. He goes to the mark and channels his rage before a toss at the furthest bale.

dice: 1d20 + 7 - 8 ⇒ (20) + 7 - 8 = 19

Jeskit smiles. Let's have a few more then. Maybe not so greedy.

starknife, raging: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 7 - 4 = 9
starknife, raging: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (18) + 7 - 4 = 21
starknife, raging: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 7 - 4 = 11
starknife, raging: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (19) + 7 - 4 = 22
starknife, raging: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 7 - 4 = 15

so 1 success at the max distance and 3 successes at the 2nd bale.

Gronkh wanders over to the raven fighting area to see what is happening there.

Angela joins in on the star knife tossing, clearly interested in what she might be able to do here. "I'm not a great thrower, but I'd love to take a try if you don't mind!"

Tossing a star knife, 1: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Tossing a star knife, 2: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Tossing a star knife, 3: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Tossing a star knife, 4: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Tossing a star knife, 5: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Tossing a star knife, 6: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Could Angela Aid another on Jeskit's throws?

At the conclusion of the 3-legged race, Yagaji hoists Jak & Jyll up onto his shoulders for a victory lap, leading the cheers for the victorious couple. Then he'll head over to the starknives competition and cheer for his fellow pathfinders.

Yagaji parades Jack and Jyl around the field. Initially the two humans are alarmed, but they are soon laughing and slapping their reptilian friend on the shoulders as their fellow villagers cheer on.

Gronkh sees the aftermath of a raven fight. There's blood and feathers all over the fighting circle. Wormwort has just defeated Soot, and will soon face Clawfoot in the final of the Ravenmoor classic. The owners of the two birds are seeing to the creatures' various wounds, whilst onlookers exchange coin or bottles of hooch. "Who's yer money on, sir?" asks a villager.

Falling Stars

Jeskit makes a good start, and the smith Saul Lupescu grudgingly approves of his efforts. Angela only manages to hit the nearest target once though. "Ye were right, miss. No shame in tha' tho'." Several more villagers attempt the contest. No Aid Another on ranged attacks without special shenanigans; it's melee or skill checks.

Whilst several hits are scored on the second bale, nobody else manages to hit the most distant target. "Ye'll be tough t' beat, stranger" says the smith. "If none bests ye, ye'll have a seat o' honour a' th' feast."

Jeskit puffs his chest, Well we do like a nice seat when it comes to meals. That will be quite the honor. In return, the society would like to refurbish your set of ceremonial starknives.

"Refurbish? These sacred weapons were carried by our Founder, Iola Kriegler 'erself! Wouldn' be right fer outsiders t' work on 'em." The smith scowls sullenly at Jeskit.

Jeskit raises his hands, No disrespect, smithy. Merely a polish to honor the ancestors, not a replacement.

"Hmph. Well. Mayhap suggest tha' t' Mayor Kriegler, if'n yer th' winner."

Gronkh carefully assesses the prospects and potential pitfalls of both Wormwort and Clawfoot, before deciding to wager a gold piece on the fortunes of Clawfoot, reasoning that he suspects that Wormwort may be tired from his recent labors.

"Ain't no way an elder c'n jump like tha' wit'out magic. Kinda feels like cheatin'. Now yer scaly frien' there, 'e's got th' idea!"

"Cheating?! Why, I never!" touts Golthwur in a huff. The sulking wizard decides that a competition that has no place for magic is hardly a competition for it measures no true skill or ability.

"Hmph. Well. Mayhap suggest tha' t' Mayor Kriegler, if'n yer th' winner."

"A simple prestidigitation would more than suffice to bring polish and respectability to those blunted blades." Golthwur can be heard muttering to himself, though he makes no effort to provide any other contribution to the conversation or festival games.

The fighting circle is prepared for the final of the Ravenmoor Classis: Clawfoot versus Wormwort! Both ravens are healed of their injuries, and itching for a scrap.

It is a short, vicious bout. And although both ravens went into the circle looking fit and ready, perhaps Gronkh's instinct was correct. Wormwort proves weaker, and Clawfoot takes him out with a savage peck! "Ye've an eye for a strong raven, stranger. Here's yer gold." The villager who took Gronkh's bet claps him on the shoulder. Clawfoot's owner, Annie Corvus, takes the plaudits.

The fighting circle is soon cleared, and the villagers quickly erect a low fence of timbers around the central competition green while a pair of brawny villagers bring a squealing, sickly-looking pig into the enclosure. To the cheers of a growing crowd, the men slather the increasingly agitated pig liberally in slippery grease before tying the end of the rope around its neck to a post.

"Ladies, Gen'lemen, an' strangers alike, 'tis the traditional greased pig chase! Who'll try their luck? Step right up!"

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
"Poor beast seems a bit out of it, don't you think, Madame Secretary?"

Perception w/out Heightened Awareness: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Heal: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

"Perhaps they drug the pig, to make it slightly easier to catch?" Byron hazards.

perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Jeskit looks at the pig with a tilted head, Seems unsporting, no? They really like abusing their animals around here. I won't partake in this nonsssenssse.

"Ladies, Gen'lemen, an' strangers alike, 'tis the traditional greased pig chase! Who'll try their luck? Step right up!"

Golthwur glances over at the "mundane" festivities, largely disinterested until he hears what he thinks at first to be a reference to a spell by name. Momentarily intrigued, he waits for some casting, only to be disappointed when the containers of lard are opened.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

It is then that he notices the off-putting porcine.

"Perhaps they drug the pig, to make it slightly easier to catch?" Byron hazards.

"Not, 'Perhaps'." notes Golthwur. "But, instead most certain. That pig is either poisoned or drugged!"

The wizard strokes his white beard a few times, then declares, "No good could come of poisoned pork or stoned swine! Something rather untoward is afoot!"

"Wha's tha' yer sayin'? Drugged? Our porker? Nay! Herbert, help us out here!"

The two burly villagers who brought the pig get into the fenced off area with the animal.

"We'll check 'im out. Ain't been no swine fever in Ravenmoor fer hunnerd years an' more!"

As the two men try to grab hold of the hog that they've just greased up, the creature honks once and then collapses into the mud. Then, a bizarre and disgusting transformation takes place. An additional pair of legs sprout from its body and its eyes turn pitch black with no visible whites, while a number of flytrap-like jaws sprout from its back. One of these jaws is large enough to snap and bite at foes, and now it snaps at Herbert!

bite: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Herbert falls to the ground bleeding!

herbert: 1d20 ⇒ 13

The villagers react with fear and disgust. "Somebody 'elp Marten! Else 'e'll be next!"

Combat round 1

Jeskit
Byron
Angela
Marten, villager
Golthwur
Gronkh
Pig
Yagaji

The bold may act!

No map for this encounter - you begin outside of a fenced off area that you can climb (DC5) or jump (DC12 with a run-up); the fenced area is a 30 foot square, if it should matter.

I have revealed a portrait of the porker on Slide 8

Jeskit curses under his breath for not re-donning his armor. He has to engage anyway. Let's go! He enters a rage.

Jeskit takes a running start and jumps over the fencing drawing his sansetsukon as he lands.

acrobatics jump: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

mwk sansetsukon: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
damage: 1d10 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

AC 13. yikes.

Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Whatever it is, its giving Byron the willies. Hedraws a wand of magic missile and fires one at the pig.

1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

"That's no pig." Golthwur notes.

Jeskit vaults the fence easily and in one fluid motion brings his three-section-staff crashing down on the weird pig. The beast gives a strange squeal in response - it's injured, but clearly not to the extent a normal pig would be by such a blow. DR

Byron takes a more cautious approach and fires a magic missile from a safe distance. normal effect.

Delaying Angela.

Taking the opportunity granted by Jeskit's swift attack, Marten scrambles over the fence to relative safety. "'Elp 'Erbert! Or 'e's a goner f' sure!"

herbert: 1d20 ⇒ 13

Herbert lies unconscious in the mud, next to Jeskit and the not-quite-pig.

Combat round 1

Jeskit
Byron
Angela
Golthwur
Gronkh
Pig; -8hp
Yagaji

The bold may act!

"Plainly, this creature is a cythnigot qlippoth, though one of unusual size. Such an outsider of primal chaos from the Abyss, usually seeks a host body among much smaller animals, don't you know." notes Golthwur.

He looks at one of the nagaji. "You, there, whatever your name is. Your mundane weapons will have little effect on it. Everyone knows that cythnigots are resistant to weapons that are not either cold iron or lawful in nature."

From the signet ring upon his finger, the wizard calls forth a bolt of magical force to strike the oversized outsider.

Magic missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4