GM Doug's Flooded King's Court [Outpost III] (Inactive)

Game Master Doug Hahn

As Pip ponders the mysteries of the boat at the boat, you hear voices behind you!

HEY!

You turn and see the mercenaries from the play! They're peering at you from the corridor. It looks like they brought more friends with them, but haven't managed to clean up their burnt leather armor or wash their offal-smeared hair. One of them is missing one eyebrow — burned clean off. The woman in the lead has a shortsword sheathed at her side and a club in her hand. The men behind her have crossbows.

The woman steps forward.

Nice actin' up there, but I think you're outta your depth down here. Things down here can really hurt you, no toy swords. I even heard there's sewer crocodiles roaming around!

I'm gonna give you a chance to skedaddle. It's for your own good really, and our client wants this place mapped out. We're the choreographers to do the job. The man next to her taps her shoulder. Cartographers, boss. She pushes him away. Nevermind, Gerrod!

She looks at you. So whadda ya say? The time for pretend is over. I'll count to ten, and you can act your way outta here. Let the choreographers do their jobs. She taps the club in her hand as she counts. One… two…

Pip also notices Fedor, the mercenary she talked to earlier. He looks around, unsure.

“We already found the crocodiles. If you want their skins, they are back at the entrance.” Gurmire replies.

“Since some of your clothes got wrecked, maybe you want to go pick up the skins? I’ve heard people like to make them into boots!”

Diplomacy T: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7 The dice hate is strong...should have gone with Intimidation like I originallly planned before reviewing his skills.

The way he says it makes them wonder if that was meant as a threat or honest offer.

"I have a better idea," Pip says. She hands them her legal cards. "I'm Pip, a licensed barrister in the City of Absalom. I'd like us to work together. Here is what I am proposing. Pick up the crocodile skins to show your boss -- we don't need them, and they'll make you guys look tough. Then wait for us to explore and map the place, and we will share our maps with you. Everyone wins. You can bring back your story of amazing 'choreography' to your boss, and they will never know who did the actual exploring."

Pip smiles. "We're small, but we're tough enough to defeat the crocodiles. We have skills. And most importantly, we have training. Fedor, remember when I invited you to join the Pathfinders? That offer still stands, for ALL of you. There's exploration galore, and if you ask anyone, the Pathfinder Society pays really well. But most importantly, there's training and backup. I'm part of the Envoy's Alliance, a group that supports other Pathfinders if they fall into trouble and arranges for rescue."

Pip looks at this sorry group, and says, "You have an alternative. Take my card, join the Society, and you can have training, support, adventure, and a lucrative career. Get my letter of recommendation, and short-term get paid by your boss without any risk. Fedor, everyone, what do you say"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

If it makes a difference, I have the Group Impression feat.

She stops tapping the club.

Hmmmm. We'll need some additional assurances… namely in the form of gold. Olansa Terimor was going to pay well for our choreography — Ten silver each. You can pay it instead. Consider it a security deposit!

Fedor taps his leader on the shoulder and whispers (rather loudly). Boss, I know they seem like weird actors but I think they're good for their word. I trust 'em. They lost with grace and even asked us to join their gang! Pip's earlier efforts pay off here, increasing them from Friendly to Helpful.

She taps the club in her hand. Hmmmm. Hmmm. Ten silver piece is a lot, Fedor. But if you vouch for 'em, I'll trust you.

We'll do without the gold. We'll skin the crocs and share your maps later.

Deal — She stows her club, spits in her palm and offers it to Pip for a handshake, waiting for Pip to do likewise…

Pip raises an eyebrow at Terimor's name. So that's who hired them! I wonder what she wants with this dungeon?

I have Lore Absalom if it matters, too.

Pip spits in her palm. "Deal. We'll get you your maps for Councillor Terimor. And if you ever tire of working for her, my offer of a recommendation letter for the Society still stands. My family runs a badger training business in Westgate, near Gorgon Square by Statue Street. There's a pub across the street, the Plucky Crumpet. Meet you there?"

She shakes the woman's hand, and then prepares to take notes to make the best maps ever.

Bardic Lore, Cartography: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Lirabelle, knitting throughout the entire conversation, addresses Pip afterward. "Well, done, you! The Prismatic Ray will surely smile upon us for avoiding unnecessary bloodshed."

Yeah you made the society check; Absalom Lore would have been good too in this case!

She shakes Pip's hands enthusiastically. Meet you at the Plucky Crumpet. She turns and playfully kicks one of her companions. Come on, you lollygaggers! We got some crocs to skin!

They move off happily.

Combat averted! Great work. Have a hero point, Pip — it was nice seeing a previous effort of goodwill/kindness on your part come into play alongside a crit sucess.

You listen to one of the mercenaries whistle happily in the darkness. As it fades away in the distance, you ponder where to go next, weighing your options… ride the boat, look at the sinkhole, or explore the big room…

Please let me know where you want to go next! — slide 1 is updated.

"As much as I'd like to take the boat, let's clear the rest of the dungeon behind us first. Shall we look at the sinkhole, and then move on to the big room?" Pip asks the group.

Wow! I’m glad she is with us. I don’t think they liked how I worded my suggestion for some reason.

Once the longshanks have moved away, Gurmire says “Good job, Pip! I’m glad we didn’t have to hurt those people.”

Looking out over the water, Gurmire says “Sure, we can wait before using the boat. As long as we do it quickly.”

So about how much time has passed so far?

So about how much time has passed so far?

30 minutes healing after the Croc combat, 10 minutes between figuring out the machines, boat and talking to the mercenaries. So, 40 minutes have passed.

You move on to the sinkhole. Map updated.

The masonry of the sewer walls has crumbled away revealing a chamber of rough and uneven stone. You enter and find a pool of crystal-clear seawater. The shallow edges of the pool drop away sharply to a depth of 15 feet or so. At the very bottom, you see the brass hinges of a lockbox glinting among the barnacles.

There looks to be treasure down there! The water is so perfectly still so that you don't even need a swim check!

Packet takes off his hat and eyes the glinting lockbox.

"Here, someone hold my hat. I've got a grappling hook and rope, let's see if we can pull that box up."

Does this seem possible?

Ogren toddles over and takes the hat to hold. "What's this made of? I like the shape!" He then watches with avid interest Packet's fishing attempts.

Gurmire smiles and says “Best way to find out is to try it! If it doesn’t work, one of us gets to swim down and put the hook on the box.”

Packet takes off his hat and eyes the glinting lockbox.

"Here, someone hold my hat. I've got a grappling hook and rope, let's see if we can pull that box up."

Does this seem possible?

Packet, you can make a thievery check to try and snag the lockbox and tease it out from the grasping barnacles.

"Do we gots to take it aways from the barn-a-cles? They are like more natural greebling. Makes it look more interesting and stuff." Shwurk is happy to provide assistance, though she will try to do so in a way that brings as many barnacles as possible along.

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Nat 20!

Shwurk aids Packet, and pulls out a cluster of brass-tinted barnacles in the process! They must have eaten some of the lockbox's precious metals over the many years. They glimmer in the light — striped with midnight blue and golden bronze. These will serve as valuable greebles indeed. They might even be tasty.

I will add some "brass barnacle greebles" to Shwurk's chronicle sheet.

Packet is rolling at +11 from crit success on Aid

”Let’s see if we can get this thing open...” Packet sticks out his tongue as he concentrates.

Thievery: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29

Packet easily fishes out the mysterious lockbox. He does so well that, when the box is on the shore, he flicks the rope and causes the grappling hook to pop the lid open! Showmanship.

Inside is an old scrap of paper with the words:

For the Ilnudar family matter

It also contains jade cat and 5 gold pieces.

You move on to the large room and find nothing of interest. It looks like the only way forward is by boat… We'll say 45 minutes have passed at this point. Will move you on tomorrow.

Packet pops his collar and holds a hand out for his hat.

Ogren, jaw dangling open at the two mighty displays of dexterity, hands over the hat without looking. Staring at the open treasure chest.

You row across the cold subterranean lake. The boat is barely serviceable but makes it across with the help of some bailing.

Ahead is a rocky beach covered in bits of assorted refuse. Beyond, what must have once must have been a natural cavern wall is partially collapsed, revealing an area beyond of worked stone. The chamber within is large and constructed of pale green stone. Multiple rounded passages worm their way to the northeast and southwest, while a grand staircase rises to the northwest.

Icy seawater sloshes around your feet as you enter a large chamber — the floor here is covered in water an inch thick. There are several statues of humanoids looming in the in alcoves to the left and right, their faces chiseled off. Water drips in the shadows, echoing eerily. You wonder if it was just your imagination, or did you hear something walking around in the water, off in the distance? A sense of foreboding washes over you.

Map updated. You have a choice on direction: Passages A-F, or a large chamber directly ahead. Or, if you want to do something like "always go left" we can proceed in that fashion.

Crafting E: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

Gurmire inspects the remains of the wall. “Although the wall has been weakening for a long time, it didn’t break until a few weeks ago.” Smiling widely, he excitedly says “That means it hasn’t been explored in a very long time!”

He then looks at the statues, trying to figure out what race the statues were portrayals of. “I wonder why they destroyed the faces.”

They look to be human!

Full transparency: EVERY time I have run this (4th time now) I've had players ask about the two statues on the map, but they are not officially noted in the scenario.

"Do we just want to do these passages in order?" Pip asks, pointing at A. "It's a good thing we're all small. Some of these tunnels look like tight fits."

Ogren happily bails out the boat with his helmet as someone else rows. As he splashes down in the new room, he gives it a long anxious stare. "The water isn't rising, right? No change, right? Wait did it just go up? Look right here!" If anyone gets in too close he gives a small splash of water at them. "Sorry, I had to, but the water here is worrisome. Let's move on."

He watches Pip for a second. "Yeah, in order sounds good! Being small is good for small passages!" The little goblin then throws up his shield, flail at the ready and moves to the passage assuming no one objects.

Packet agrees. Let's try the passages in order!

"But wait, am I the only one who heard something walking through the water?"

Packet looks out across the water to see if there's any movement out there.

perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Packet can't hear anything. Must be nerves.

You move on, exploring the rightmost hall. It leads to a chamber. This is an odd place; it looks like the chamber was once walled over but whatever the place once held has long since been swept clean. The room is a dead-end.

You leave, making your way to the next passage. This next hall is longer and leads to a chamber deeper within the complex. The floor here is sunk a foot and water's a bit deeper. This place seems to have once been used for document storage. Bits of saturated parchment, fragments of wood, and other detritus float on the surface. Small niches are carved up and down the walls, each space only a few inches square but nearly a foot deep. The niches to the north are mostly destroyed by the partial collapse of the surrounding wall, and a deep crack runs at an angle across it.

A statue of a hippocampus rears up against one wall. Its its eyes roll back as if in pain. A trident made of a corroded metal protrudes from a wound in its side. Behind the statue on the wall are carved the words “Ex Prothex.”

You look at all the documents and wonder what kinds of information might have been stored here, or if anything survives.

Society: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Packet scratches his chin as he contemplates the strange statue.

”Ex Prothex... What could that mean?”

Society: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

“First among equals — the city motto. The creature is Absalom’s mascot, the hippocampus. They have a group that rides them like wolves only in the water.”

Documents are important, so Pip looks over briefly at what's left. "A flooded document chamber! Oh no, think of all the records that are now in peril!"

Lore (Whatever): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Pip has Legal, Absalom, Scribing and Bardic to call upon.

Pip reviews the documents and finds a water-tight scroll tube.

Inside is a remarkable document, the deed to the playhouse and even some of the surrounding neighborhood!

Legally, this document in and of itself does not grant rights to the property, but it can be used to make a strong case for ownership for the goblins, given the lack of current owner.

"Oh, Zusgut will like this!" Pip says happily.. "Shall we go on to the next hallway?"

"Indeed! I'm glad we can help our new goblin friends. Let's continue."

Shwurk gives the contract a once over, nodding the whole time—probably a bit too much to be honest—then hands it back. ”Dis looks all in orders. Shwurk knows all about contracts and stuffs. You learns about all dat from merchant school.” She taps at the signature. ”See, dey wrote the sig-nature.” She points at a random clause. ”And see dere’s clauses and stuff. Dat’s really official and stuffs. Gots to do that.”

Bolstered by Shwurk's legal acumen, you move on to the next passageway. You discover nothing but more chambers that look to have once been walled off. You wonder who — or what — might have once been walled in these terrible dark chambers…

Water drips in the shadows… was that another sloshing sound in the distance? No one could be here, after so long, right?

Big room, or continue with the smaller passages D, E, or F?

Shwurk gives the contract a once over, nodding the whole time—probably a bit too much to be honest—then hands it back. ”Dis looks all in orders. Shwurk knows all about contracts and stuffs. You learns about all dat from merchant school.” She taps at the signature. ”See, dey wrote the sig-nature.” She points at a random clause. ”And see dere’s clauses and stuff. Dat’s really official and stuffs. Gots to do that.”

Ogren peers over her shoulder and frowns. "Wow! You can read this? It's so hard to understand. 'Hereby'? Here by what? Where's here? Can't be the document, can it? ... but if you say it means the holders own the theater that's great!"

He then tromps back into the main room disappointed the adventure with the small tunnels didn't lead to anything more. "Absalom has some sad tunnels, don't they? Barely call them a tunnel. I mean the ones in Kraggodan, you could hike them for days! Got lost in one for 2 days once..." He stops to check the water levels and make sure they haven't noticeably risen, before sheepishly continuing, "Meemaw stripped my hind raw for that one, mostly cause she was worried. But I did win the game of hide and seek with myself!"

He pauses in the main area again, then turns to the small 'tunnels' to the opposite of the other small tunnels. "Can we save the big one for last? Can we?"

“Sounds reasonable to me. Big critters need big spaces, so staying to the smaller spaces should be better.”

Alphabetical order again?

”Small places it is then!” Packet points down corridor D.

Yes, alphabetical order.

Pip nods. "Sounds good to me!"

"Let's go!" Lirabelle raises her shield in preparation for more crocodiles.

You move along this new hallway, finding more mysterious chambers that used to be walled off. The tides have washed away all evidence of what might have been here. You move on to the next hallway.

You make your way down a long, claustrophobic corridor and turn left. Ahead is another hallway, but you notice something different here. There's a span of the masonry that's different from the wall — a passageway here has been bricked over. There's a hole in the masonry, though, about the size of a goblin's head — just big enough for someone to peer through and see what's beyond.

Crumbled bricks and mortar lie scattered on the floor below the hole — whatever clawed or smashed open the brickwork must have done so recently, as the tides haven't had time to wash away the evidence.

You could look inside if you wish…

Pip sends dancing lights into the hole. "Maybe we'll better be able to spot what is in there if we have light! Or scare out some animal if something is holed up in there."

Pip sends in the lights; something inside sloshes around in the water — clearly startled. It sounds like something moving around on two legs. You hear a low, sepulchral voice whisper from the hole. The words drip slowly out of the opening, like blood seeping from a cold corpse.

Whoooo… who… art… thou? Water sloshes around. Dost thou… live? The… living? Come… to… me. You can hear the creature approach the hole. Prithee. Prith-eee… please… let… let me… see… thee… So long.... it has been..... soooooo long....

Ogren gives a smile. "Aww, it's just someone who's been trapped down here. We should help! I'm sure they're friendly!" The little goblin then toddles up to the hole.

"Hello there! I'm Ogren Bound, of the Crookedtoes Tribe, adoptee of the Deepwall Clan. Call me Ogren please, the whole title is waaaaayyyyy too long. Can I have your name? And what are you doing down here?"

Ogren has Lore (Undead) in case he sees anything not living. (which out of character I believe it is).

Gurmire frowns. “I thought no one was supposed to have been here. Is that a different way in?”

Pip startles. "Er.... New friend....? Why did you ask us if we were living? Aren't you alive too?"

----
You can roll the check yourself, Orgren.

Orgren peers inside. He sees a creature that looks like this peering back at him. Also on slide 2

Candren’s wish

This phrase has been scratched deeply into the stone, over and over again, thousands of times.

The creature peers at Orgren and licks his lips with his long tongue. I…I am…I was… I was called Marcon Tinol. Thou art living? Yes? Yes?

What… am I … doing? I was…’prisoned here, chained. Bricked behind this very wall. Marcon gestures with wickedly-clawed hands at the opening.

I…slept…died?

I woke then, and I broke chains. Searched for escape, but there was none. So slept again I did, ‘til the ground shook. Since then I have drifted in the cold dark water…and chipped. A crack, I noticed after the shaking. This hole is all I have…created.

Several of you look at the being's clothes and realize they are about 500 years out of date. The name "Candren" also rings a bell to some of you. It's the Harbormaster of Absalom's family name.

----

Crossposted with Pip. But the "I slept… died" should answer her question.

Undead Lore: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Crafting: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Ogren gives a small jump at the shock of seeing the gaunt man looking back a him. But he listens anyways. "Marcon, it's nice to meet you! Poor thing getting trapped in here and dying! Who would brick someone up behind a wall alive? That's terrible! Oh and yes I'm living. And I would love to find a way to make sure you can live again!"

He glances around the other room and then asks, "Ah who's this Candren? Do you wish something from him?"

Crafting E: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27

Looking at the wall, Gurmire says “You’ve been making good progress on breaking out. Probably will do it in about 10 days or so.”

Bardic Lore, Undead: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Absalom Lore, Candren: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Query: Is PF2 enlightened enough to have civilized undead, like the ones from Eox in Starfinder? Though come to think of it, there is the nation of Geb, which is also Absalom's main source of wheat, so clearly a trading partner.

"Greetings, Marcon," Pip says, formally. "I have never met a ghoul before. It must be pretty lonely in that hole. I would like to hear your tale, and what you would like of us." Pip uses token spell to fly a business card into the Ghoul. "Maybe we can assist you? Absalom is not friendly to the undead, but we could possibly get you escorted to the Geb embassy. Or arrange for a more permanent release if that is what you wish."

Pip peers at the ghoul curiously. "One of my first missions was in the Gravelands. It was my experience that most mindful undead -- the ones that rise on their own, rather at the hands of a necromancer -- rose because of injustice, or because of incomplete vows or duties." She points at the words, 'Candren's Wish.' "Marcon, what has brought you back to us?"