GM Deneve's The Fall of Plaguestone (PFS 2e) (Inactive)

Game Master redeux

Outside the Feedmill you find a wooden sledge covered by a tarp.

Once inside, you notice that the Feedmill is at full attendance, with several of the farmers arguing about the wolves and asking Garley, clearly out of his depth, trying to reassure them that the wolves aren't a problem for the town as they "don't even approach the farmlands", you hear him state. Delma shakes her head at this, as Trin and Kolrnal are busy serving food. The atmosphere is hot and the smell of sweat fills the room.

A woman shrouded in a heavy brown cloak trimmed with leaves marches up to you from the bar. She turns to you, and despite having her cloak’s hood pulled low, you can make out weathered lips and a slender chin. In a pointed tone, she asks, "Is this your work?", pointing to the sledge waiting outside.

(You have time to keep Hallod out of sight, if you wish)

Kunsheng gives the sledge a blank stare. "I do not know. Did anyone see it arrive?"

Deerslicer looks at the sledge, then back, and shakes his head. "Me never make d'at. Me make d'ese, though." he points to his dogslicer and shortbow.

Gamble lifts a corner of the tarp, curiosity piqued by the woman's accusation.

"That's my sled, sir. I found those things there in the middle of the road.", the woman states.

Gamble would see the cargo, a familiar pile of wolf carcasses. Several of them have mange and there are at least two are large, hulking dark brutes, similar to the wolf you faced at Hallod's lair.

"Well, defending one's self is not usually referred to as 'work,'" Gamble says. "However, we were attacked on the road by a pack of mangy wolves and a couple that seemed enchanted several days ago. We killed a few. Others ran off. This looks like more than we encountered, but I could be remembering poorly. It was a harrying assault. These're diseased. I wouldn't have recommended touching them or bringing them into town."

He lets the tarp fall back down over the wolves.

"So many poor dead wolves... men-folk make them go crazy!"

In a pointed tone, she asks, "Is this your work?", pointing to the sledge waiting outside.

"No, ma'am, we did not build your sled."

Sinan shakes his head in a bit of mirth. "I'll go and get Garley." He gives a short bow to the woman as he passes. "Ma'am"

As he steps into the Feedmill, Sinan takes in the sights and smells. Despite the farmers' agitation, they all came together for support and camaraderie. The sheriff, for all his uselessness, trying hard to keep his town together- even if he could be outclassed by a stubbed toe. It reminds Sinan of something he only knew in passing. A family.

Either that or barely into my thirties, I'm getting too old to adventure.

"Sheriff, Delma, I need a word if you can." he says with a nod to the farmers indicating that the priest means alone.

"All joking aside, we were traveling with Bort's caravan when some of these wolves attacked it. Some of them had been warped by alchemy to vomit a potent corrosive fluid. We left the carcasses where they fell, as food for scavengers. That was (one or two? I can't remember) days ago, though. Is there a problem?"

Bidding her companions farewell, Pepper will give Gracie her last Goodberry, and slip off into the forest, with the she-wolf.
"I am a bit overwhelmed by all the goings on... and will go off to try and collect my thoughts, and either get Belta back here with me, or go join her.
Be safe all!"

The woman watches Sinan head inside and shakes her head.

|----|----|----|----|

At Sinan's request, Garley and Delma look at each other puzzled, but assent.

"Trin, you're in charge while I'm gone.", Delma says putting rag on the counter. She asks Sinan, "Private room? Basement is better."

Garley, meanwhile, begins to peel himself away from the farmers, only to have one of them grab him by the arm.

"Now see here, Garley, you can't just leave—", one of them begins to complain.
"I'll be back Herondal, sit down.", Garley reassures him. "Noala's taken care of the wolves now. We're fine."

The farmer snorts.

|----|----|----|----|

Outside the Feedmill, the woman speaks to Kunsheng and the others, watching the leshy leave the noise of the Feedmill and head northwards.

"It'll need to be careful. It's dangerous out there.", she murmurs.

Looking at the group, muddied, hurt and smelling of wood, blood and sweat, she speaks up. "You have me wrong, sir. I need your help if you are the ones responsible for these dead wolves. I am Noala Kesrir, the forester. But I'm seeing you're hurt. Perhaps this can wait if you need to recover, but what I need to say is urgent. Can we talk in private?"

"As long as you're not going to pull a weapon on us, we can talk wherever you want."

Simon keeps on alert anyway.

As Pepper leaves, Deerslicer leans toward Noala and says, "We killed da wolves, yah. We was gonna kill a couple more tonight, but da tree girl kept one of 'em from dyin'. Crazy tree people!"

Noala is taken aback by the mention of drawing weapons.

"No. What? Of course not!"

She listens to Deerslicer and she sounds surprised when she speaks once more. "You have seen more? Then we really must talk, but not here. The sheriff... he won't listen to me and we should burn these corpses. They're all tainted."

|----|----|----|----|

It's a cool night and the noise coming from the Feedmill is the only sound in miles. Garley and Delma reach the basement, Delma carrying with her an oil lamp. The noise coming from upstairs is muted somewhat.

"Alright, what is it?" Garley asks annoyed. "Got a situation up there with some angry folks, foreigner. And why is the goblin down here, Delma?"

In the shadows, the rotund shape of Phinick cowers in a corner.

"We have your murderer, Sheriff. Hallod has admitted as much to us, which we would all be prepared to testify towards. He told us that he forced this poor fellow-" he gestures to the goblin, "to administer a poison as an added spice to Bort's meal without telling Phinick what he had done. Poor Phinick is an innocent in this."

Sinan looks to Delma for a moment to assuage her fears about the goblin. Then back at Garley. "More importantly, we found evidence in his home that he supplied the poison among other alchemical regents to and from someone else. Killing Bort was an effort to silence his supply chain."

Sinan stares hard at Garley. This is the time for the man to stand up and be a leader in his community. If he falters.... "We have spared Hallod, so he will be alive until the judge comes. Who his benefactor is, we do not know. But we will remand him to your custody."

Delma looks worried as Sinan lays out the facts. She tries to approach Phinick but the goblin is too skitterish as Garley begins talking incredulously.

Wai—what? Pardon? Poison? Alchemy? And Hallod? Hallod is involved in this, you say? Show me that evidence and where is Hallod? I'll have him, uh, I'll have him locked up, uh, here.", he says wiping his brow.
"Of course not, Garley!" Delma says indignantly. "Use your old barn if you have to, but you are not putting a murderer here in my business!"
"Oh. Right... right. Take me to Hallod as well. I'll have a few words with him."

Kunsheng glances over to where Hallod is restrained. "Yes, we should talk somewhere more private. I apologize for our manner; we have just been in a fight for our lives."

Gamble nods to the woman and says, "The stable is fairly private. Fights keep breaking out in the tavern. My name is Gamble."

Deerslicer points at Hallod, and Gracie walks over to sit on him. He nods approvingly. "She'll tell us if he wakes up," he say. "I is Deerslicer, elf lady."

"Valor Holysword, cleric of Sarenrae."

Valor looks at the incredulous stares.

"Iomedae! I'm a cleric of Iomedae! Sorry, it's been a long day. We have items from his hideout."

Valor hands over the notes about the stump, as well as the parallel entries in Bort's ledger.

Deerslicer nods. "He get hit in da head a couple o' times."

While Sinan is busy handing over the evidence into the very capable hands of sheriff Garley (under Delma's supervision, of course)...

"Pleasure to meet you all." Noala replies. Her voice is slightly coarse. She looks a bit stumped at Valor's comment, but simply nods. "I-I see. You should have his head checked. Those type of injuries can have unintended consequences. Now, you mentioned the stables? Let's head there then."

At the stables you find Edra and Tamli sitting down on wooden benches near the horses, speaking to each other, sharing a drink in pewter mugs. Their conversation is soon cut short by your arrival.

"You need to try this one, Miss Tamli", Edra begins as she pours some alcohol into Tamli's cup. "It's from the south. Southern Squall; some type of rum, I reckon. Oh! Hello! You look like a dog chewed you to bits!", Edra says in surprise.
"Oh, dear! What happened to you all?", Tamli asks worried as she lets her cup sit on a hay bale.

Noala looks dismayed at seeing Edra and Tamli at the stables. She clears her throat. "Edra, I need the stables for a few minutes.", the older woman says.
"Why? You gonna talk about them weird trees and creepy wildlife again?"
"Edra!"
"Fine, fine. Sheesh. C'mon Miss Tamli. Let's give 'em some room. Noala can get ornery at her age."

Tamli looks worried, but lets Edra guide her outside.

|----|----|----|----|

With both women gone, Edra turns to you and tosses back her hood to reveal long, elven ears and deep, emerald eyes. You notice that she avoids the use of her right hand, which is entirely covered in an oddly shaped leather gauntlet. Brushing her hair back, she begins talking.

"Those wolves back there aren’t the first, and I am afraid they won’t be the last. Worse still", she grunts, "the forest itself is turning sour. Plants and trees are withering, bearing bitter fruit that sickens and kills those who eat it. If you’ve been out to the old orchard, you’ve seen it."

She starts pacing up and down, growing more agitated as she talks to you all.

"For the past several years, there has been an ever-growing blight in the region. What started a few years ago with a single group of sickly trees has become a series of unconnected pockets of dead and dying plants. Worse still, some of the animals living near these areas have strange mutations and have turned hostile to travelers and the locals alike. I can discern no obvious cause. The only common element I've found is that in each afflicted area, the blight seems to start in a grove of very large, old trees."

The people of Etran’s Folly. Well, they're only vaguely aware of this problem, and they always seem to have an explanation for what's happening: 'it's just a bad summer', or 'maybe a pig died in the stream a few months back'! I have done all that I can to keep the villagers safe and put down any blighted creatures, but I cannot simply solve this problem on my own without help!

Her face turns fierce as she continues the next part of her tale.

"I tried talking to that fat fool, Garley several months ago, hoping that he might request aid one of the nearby barons. That lazy excuse of a sheriff told me he had no time for 'tree problems'. 'TREE PROBLEMS!', he says! Now things are worse than ever! This blight is growing, and I need your help to stop it as you've seen these wolves face to face."

Kunsheng blanches. "The wolves were changed on purpose, as were the snakes we fought earlier. If this blight is related, there is a mind and a will behind it. I can't speak for anyone else, but I will help you."

Deerslicer nods. "Me help you kill bad animals." He yawns. "But me gotta sleep first ... d'en eat breakfast."

"I could use some rest as well, but I agree this is very serious, and very much intentional."

"Of course. I only came here to gather supplies and speak to Delma. As well as finding out who hunted down those wolves. I need to head back into the wilderness. There's some business I need to take care of. I'll come back in a week. There's a blight I want you to see."

She reaches for her hood and hides her features again as she walks towards the stable doors.

"You'll need to pack for a lengthy journey, as the largest blight is located deep in the woods and is hard to reach on foot. Rest well", she says waving her good arm.

(Edit. Forgot to mention this will be a long trip)

"Honored to meet you. Safe journey!"

Are the others from Bort's caravan available?

(Yes, you would find them at your home fixing things. Tamli is waiting outside the stables, too)

"I am not certain that the changes to the beasts are intentional," Gamble comments on the Tian's assertion. "Your story certainly sounds like the changes--whatever the source or will behind the blight--are happenstance. Either way, this does bear looking into lest the village be overtaken."

"The rattles on the snakes were part of a deliberate modification, though. It may be that someone is using blighted animals for their own purposes."

"Hallod certainly was," Gamble agrees. "He just doesn't seem that smart."

Where are we staying? At the farmhouse?

"Whoever Hallod was working for, though, may be far more clever. The poison she used on Bort was wellbeyond my skill. If she made it...." He shakes his head.

Sinan spends the majority of the night going over the evidence against Hallod with Garley and Delma and making sure he's secure in his new imprisonment.

Later, when he has a chance for a good meal, he asks about Pepper, only then realizing the forest creature had left them. And absorbing the information his friends had amassed about the elven woman. He strikes up the idea to speak with Tamli, but it is late, and dreams await the priest.

Before turning in, Kunsheng approaches Tamli. "We found Hallod. He is still alive, and in the Sheriff's hands. He had been acting as an agent for another, who gave him the poison that killed Bort. From what we found, he had been buying supplies from Bort for this other person, then charging that other more than he paid Bort for them. There was something that this other wanted...an alchemical reagent I am not familiar with. Have you ever heard of something called corpse blood?"

Tamli listens to what Kunsheng has to say with rapt attention, the knuckles on her clenched hands white with tension. She seems relieved that Bort's murderer has been captured, but at the same time seems uneasy at the mention of another person involved and the corpse blood. She covers her mouth with one hand as if the thought of it made her sick.

"Corpse blood! No, I've never heard of it. Wh-Who would want such a thing?"

She grows quiet, and the only sound to be heard are either from the horses or the sound coming from the Feedmill.

"Do, do you plan to look into this further?", she says quite distressed.

"Yes," Gamble answers. "We're joining up with a local to search deeper into the woods to what's going on as well as what Hallod and his master had to do with it."

"Thank you. If you need coin, I can help you. It's not much, but it's all my life savings. You must stop this person. No one, no one should suffer as Bort did."

Tamli reaches into her leather satchel and offers you 43 gold pieces.

As everyone settles in for the night, Simon has one more task.

Although exhausted, Simon creeps out. Taking a few rocks and loose boards, he crafts a makeshift shrine.

Gods like stuff. Deerslicer's words echoes in his mind. Simon takes out a few of his most prized possessions - a lockpick from his thieves tools, a bottle of salve from his healer's kit, and his rapier. He carefully arranges them on the altar, unsure of how a god might want things arranged. Simon steps back and looks at his altar in the moonlight. It looks ... accidental. Nothing like the shrine to Gozreh, which was wild and beautiful and appropriate to the setting. Simon looks around and finds a few plants. There are no flowers (do gods even like flowers?), but he lays a few vines around the base to make it look ... less accidental.

Simon takes out a torch and is about to light it, but realizes that it won't last very long. Remembering what happened with Sinan's scimitar earlier, he reaches out and touches his rapier.

"Light my path," he whispers. His rapier starts glowing in the darkness.

Simon sits and looks at his shrine for a little bit, and then falls asleep basking in the light of his shrine.

Deerslicer wakes up in the middle of the night and stumbles out of his lean-to, heading off into a nearby clump of weeds to relieve himself. As he does so, he glances over, and blinks a few times. After finishing his task, he grabs his kukri and scurries over to investigate the strange light.

He sees the makeshift shrone, with Valor Holysword lying on on the ground in front of it. He shakes his head as he goes back to his lean-to, muttering, "Crazy pinkskins ..."

Oh, the disjunction between playing a character of your design and the intended sequence the scenario author designed...

"We surely do not wish to take your life savings, Tamli," the Ulfen says. "But we are also certainly going to need supplies for our venture into the woods given what has been happening. We will try to be as economical as possible so we can return as much as we can to you."

The next day, Kunsheng sets to work on the house, starting with the living areas.

Gamble begins a regimen of martial exercises in preparation for their excursion into the blighted woods.

Retraining Quick Coercion into Quick Jump.

Simon wakes up refreshed the next morning, despite sleeping on the ground.

Simon will clean, and then repair the walls in the Living Quarters and Kitchen, in that order. He'll eat Deerslicer's leftovers, and will accompany Deerslicer to forage.

Survival, Day 1: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Crafting, Day 1: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (9) + 0 = 9

Not feeling super useful, Simon is going to spend a few hours visiting the barnchurch. He's not looking for anything, just wants some space to pray.

He finds a small blue and yellow flower which brings him joy, and he returns to the house with renewed energy.

Crafting, Day 2: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20
Crafting, Day 3: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (11) + 0 = 11

I'm going to pause here to see what remains to be done. Simon's not very good at Crafting, so once the Living Quarters and Kitchen are done, he's probably going to try something else.

Wonder if that crit success gives us anything special ...

Once Gamble has finished preparing for the battles sure to come, he spends time repairing the house gifted to them by the mayor.

Craft (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Craft (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

I think we still need the living quarters, don't we? Otherwise whatever portion needs to be done. Maybe the infirmary.

While visiting the old church, Simon meets Metmon and his son Edfur. Edfur is a young dwarf and as you work together he slowly opens up.

"So, eh, why worship a god, eh? Not like they do a whole lot for us.", he says earnestly but at the same time embarrassed by his boldness.

|---|---|---|---|

Clean up goes as planned and with the help of Bort's crew the house is no longer a shambling mess, and is just a mess. The days go by quickly as you work with Deerslicer preparing arrows and helping around the house. You get most of the walls fixed, but any plans for an infirmary or workshop are halted when you receive a visitor.

Sheriff Garley barges into your home in a huff. As soon as he sees you, he begins to yell at you. "Hallod's not doing well! What the hell did you people do to him?! He's sick!"

Deerslicer shrugs. "Well, he get stabbed with sword, poked with arrows, and bit by bear ... Me would be surprised if he feelin' all d'at good. Plus, da place he living ... it was really dirty. You no see his latrine. Even by goblin standards ... Plus, he drinkin' all kind of drugs. Not good on da body."

Garley turns a deep beet red at Deerslicer's flipant response.

"Why, you... ARGH! Why am I even bothering with one of your kind!? Hallod had better not die, is all I'm saying!", he says pointing aggressively at Deerslicer, before turning around and stomping away in a huff.