GM Crunch and the Pallid Plague (Inactive)

Game Master Saving Cap'n Crunch

”Great.” The tip of Torku’s unsheathed blade rests against the ground as the tiefling draws for his defensive shield once more. ”These ones at least aren’t zombies - well, not yet anyway - so you should be able to try negotiating a cessation of hostilities without violating your oaths, Korum.” He snorts. ”Well, without violating them more.”

Casting shield and drawing weapon. I don’t see opponents on the map, but he’s unlikely to have moved forward in any case.

Vulpina's shot clips one of the men. As a group, they retreat, some walking between the flower bushes. They converse in an unfamiliar language while pulling out slings.

Round One/Two:
Torku (shield)
Vulpina
Blue
Green -2
Red
Doran
Korum
Makras
Dana

Doran bows his head and shakes it as Makras rushes forward.

I should be surprised, but I am not... he says as he sets his shield down against his leg and pulls out his bow.

Anyone know what tongue they speak? Tell them to back off...or I'll stick one between the eyes.

Makras strides forward, grinning.

Move action & total defense.

kn nature : 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Dana casts a spontaneous toppling magic missile on both the green and blue figure!

Full round action, toppling mm is a 1st lvl spell due to traits.

Blue: 2MM, Trip : 2d4 + 1 ⇒ (1, 3) + 1 = 51d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Green: 1MM, Trip : 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 21d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26

Here I was thinking my Sylvan would come in handy :P

”I must admit I am not familiar with... whatever language that may be,” says Vulpina.

It's not too important, but here's one I can think of: Vulpina, Dana, and Doran can roll Linguistics.

"These lugs speak perfect Taldane, I'm sure of it," Vanick says. He is currently cowering behind Dana. "And their intentions aren't good, we would've found that out the hard way if we hadn't scarpered just as we found 'em."

As he speaks, Dana knocks down her targets without trouble. Muffled curses can be heard as they eat dirt.

Round One/Two:
Torku (shield)
Vulpina
Blue -5 (prone)
Green -4 (prone)
Red
Doran
Korum
Makras
Dana

forgot to roll nature

know nature: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

It's not too important, but here's one I can think of: Vulpina, Dana, and Doran can roll Linguistics.

Ahem...the paladin is slightly worldly and has that skill trained as well.

Linguistics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Ahem...nevermind. The paladin seems to be rather distracted at the moment. Something god related I'm sure. Nothing to see here. Move along.

forgot i had linguistics trained...pardon my braindeadedness....

lingo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

linguistics : 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17

If it’s just being trained in the skill that’s needed to guess the language...

Linguistics: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Who wants to bet it’s Druidic?

I was restricting the check based on languages known, but considering you are quite knowledgeable and well-rolled...

Dana and Torku pick up a few words similar to Elven and Sylvan in the farmers' speech. Meaning escapes them without more context and time to listen. But considering this and what has been said about these people, the pair are reasonably sure they're speaking in the reclusive Druidic tongue!

Hero Point for Torku! Oh, wait...

Also, sorry if I've inadvertently downplayed this any, but these folks are looking quite hostile. They just haven't quite had the time to act on it yet. It may not change your actions, especially as Korum doesn't tend to strike first, but the bold still have full turns.

They may be hostile, but Vulpina's all-but-pantsed hostile folks before :P and now she has a new skill to do so! Ranged Disarm: gotta love it ;D

Vulpina pockets her pistol, trotting forward and drawing a new one. "I have already removed one of your weapons," she sighs, "but turn your gratitude toward the Ulfen that stole from me the patience required to do that twice more. Weapons down, step forth, and you will not be slain!"

She can't help but roll her eyes. Another group that will surely be dead before a minute has passed, all because they overestimated themselves or were too devoted to a futile cause.

Torku likewise rolls his eyes. "I don't think they're smart enough for that," he calls dryly to Vulpina as he walks past the gunslinger. "Though I thought druids were supposed to be wise. Maybe it's part of this disease to rob them of their wits?"

Double move.

”I am saying it more for my sake than theirs,” she admits with a sigh.

Well, I can't just let them go and get themselves killed.

Korum moves up to support the advanced team.

"Maybe it's part of this disease to rob them of their wits?"

"Well then Tork, you should have nothing to worry about." He shrugs at the tiefling, as if to say 'low-hanging fruit'.

"Don't worry, 'Coral', we're all very impressed by your wit. Outstanding work."

Two of the druids whip rocks at the oncoming Pathfinders. The one who Vulpina relieved of his sickle runs up to Torku, and tries to sock the tiefling. He doesn't look to be trained in the art.

Oh hey, the punch actually landed! But he doesn't have Improved Unarmed Strike. So Torku, if you can hit with an AoO, I'll knock off the damage. If you miss, make a Fortitude save.

Round One/Two:
Torku -4 (shield)
Vulpina
Blue -5
Green -4
Red
Doran
Korum
Makras
Dana

I checked the rules, but I cannot find an answer to the following question. As Korum has a reach weapon, would he also receive an AoO vs the unarmed attack?

Attacking unarmed only provokes from the target of the attack.

Makras strides up to one of the farmers. "Like wheat before the scythe, so must we all fall!"

Attacking Red (I think--color's not my thing).

+1 Heavy Pick: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

AoO: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Piercing damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Torku’s blade dances to a horizontal position, letting the diseased farmer run into it as he tries to clobber the tiefling.

The tiefling uses the man’s momentum against him, blade darting out and back in like an oversized thorn. A quick step back puts occultist and paladin side-by-side.

Rapier: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Piercing damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Crit Confirmation: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Crit damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

I think I was playing in a game recently with someone who mentioned being colorblind. Since then I've vaguely thought about marking enemies with different border dashes instead of colors. Would you prefer that? It'd get me to stop thinking and start doing, if nothing else.

Torku jabs the man's pustule-covered fist before it can smack him upside the head. Before his would-be assailant regains balance, one more swift cut from the tiefling sends him to the ground.

Makras follows suit for another foe, managing a hit. But his target grins rather than falling despite the heavy injury.

Round One/Two:
Torku (shield)
Vulpina
Blue -5
Green
Red -10
Doran
Korum
Makras
Dana

Dana moves forward.

Double move.

“I fear I will not forget this group after all!“

Vulpina trots along, reloading her pistol as she goes. She doesn’t see the situation as dangerous enough to make particular haste.

Korum moves toward the northern most farmer. "Don't suppose you'd consider surrendering."

Readied Action {bad guy is hostile & in reach}: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
Damage: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

Seeing his friends close and not stay back, Doran shrugs and grabs his blade and shield and moves up.

The two remaining foes draw closer and to punch the Pathfinders, unaware or uncaring of what happened to their fellow. "Why would we surrender? We are victorious whether or not we survive this conflict," Korum's assailant crows. Before he can even swing, the half-orc cuts a mean notch in him.

Blue Punch vs. Korum: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Damage: 1d3 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Red Punch vs. Makras: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Damage: 1d3 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

This provokes from both Korum and Makras. I'll knock off Makras's damage it he hits, otherwise it's a Fort save. Korum, I'm blanking on whether your readied attack just invalidates his, but his misses anyway. You can still take the AoO, I think.

Round Two/Three:
Torku (shield)
Vulpina
Blue -19
Green
Red -10
Doran
Korum
Makras -4 nonlethal
Dana

Dana delays.

They have everything under control. Moving is truly difficult.

Korum reverses his grip and slams the butt of his glaive into the druid's face.

AoO (Weapon Trick) NL: 1d20 + 10 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (16) + 10 - 2 - 4 = 20
Non-Lethal Damage: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

The Weapon Trick feat allows you to attack adjacent targets with a reach weapon (with a minus to hit).

Vulpina sighs, striding to strafe her next target. She takes a moment to line up her shot, then:

KRAK

Pistol Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 vs Red
Pistol Damage + Focused Aim: 1d8 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 4 = 13

Makras swings gleefully at the farmer.

Attack of opportunity: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Normal attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Korum's warning tap takes his opponent out for the count! Makras takes a punch to the face, but his assault combined with Vulpina's nearly pushes the would-be brawler to the other side of the Boneyard.

Stillness returns to the field, besmirched only by disturbed bits of pollen from the druids' flailing about. "I reckon that's what woulda happened if we had stayed around the first time," Vanick says, looking over your handiwork. "Maybe to us Lumberers instead of them. Didn't seem too tough. Busy being barking mad, I suppose."

Combat over!
Makras -4 nonlethal

”Looks that way.” Torku grabs the edge of his cloak with his tail and passes it a hand hand, pulling it over his nose and mouth. ”Anything useful on them? Notes or anything? They mentioned having already won, and we still don’t know what they were trying to accomplish. Bah, anything would probably written in Druidic anyway...” The cloth mask does little to hide the constant sourness of his voice as he bends down to investigate the man in front of him.

Torku finds a tiny wealth of gear on each druid, but no notes, decipherable or otherwise. All are thankfully still alive, though. Perhaps an interrogation is in order?

Each one carries a potion of cure moderate wounds, tanglefoot bag, +1 leather armor, masterwork sickle, masterwork sling with 10 bullets, masterwork gardening tools, shovel, and 50 feet of silken rope.

Also, is that the extent of your precautions while looting? They all look to be in an advanced state of the disease, to the point you might not want to take off or wear the armor.

Doran examines the fallen infected.

heal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

I would not put on any of that...the weapons might be usable...if cleaned properly.

i'm good for gear...maybe a potion of cure would be a good idea

Makras stabilises one of the dying foes and then tries to waken him with vigorous slaps. If need be, he'll even feed the man one of the healing potions. Leaning over him with his gore-encrusted pick at the ready, he'll say "No sleeping until you're dead! Tell me where there are more of you, or something else to watch burn and gasp as the last shreds of life escape their lips."

If a check is necessary, here's an Intimidate.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

The druid awakens with a smarmy grin on his face. Half of it bears what will become heavy scarring if he lasts that long, but he doesn't look too concerned. Until Makras is done speaking, that is.

"Ah, you wish to meet our congregation? It matters not if you're after them for what you think of as good or ill. Our holy work is already underway. Finished, perhaps even, so we're treating ourselves to a feast." The lopsided grin returns, but his fear is obvious. Still, his voice cracks repeatedly and plows through any attempts at interruption, as if he barely registers your presence. "We have spread these flowers, infected with the great palepox, through the impure town nearby while they thought of us as mere beggars. In but a few days, they will all be as infected as we, if foolishly unhappy about it.

"Like some of you, so I see without my eyes," he adds, head lolling in the direction of Doran and Makras. "You simpletons have no conception of the gift you've received."

With a bit more pushing in the right direction, he reveals the general location of some fellows, whom he calls the 'Fiendsblood.' The area indicated is vague, but he doesn't seem able to narrow it down even after more threatening. It could take days to search the tract in question. But first, Vanick insists upon going to see Laurel the herbalist, even if you already planned on doing so.

...Barring any other questions, that is.

Dana is very confused.

”I think it is really cute that you are telling us all of your past needs but could you please start at the beginning at least?! Who are you and where are you from? What are your goals in life? And why would you spread such a disease?“ she asks with little emotion in her voice.

diplomacy : 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (11) + 14 = 25

The man lets out a weak chuckle. A bubble of blood bursting somewhere under his armor or in his throat is audible. "All but that last one...I've got the same answer for all those questions. Doesn't matter. Might've lost my name even before taking off the silly druidic cowl. They didn't care about names either.

"But they pretended to know what it's all about. Trying to keep things balanced when all things do is die and die and die!" His voice slowly rising towards the end of his sentence, the ex-druid finally shows some emotion other than unfocused bliss. "Some of wised up after seeing all the death and nothing getting 'better.' With our minds open to that, it's easy to see that there's nothing wrong with spreading decay places it'll already go."

”And the wolves? Stuffed to the brim with your flowers and reanimated? Your doing as well?”

"Have you ever seen the druid's practice of taking an exceptional animal along on their folly? Those ones, that I assume you butchered, were ours. No less capable in their new forms, loyal to a greater cause, and filled with the blessed blooms without complaint. At least they understood the honor in that."

Lady Vulpina makes sure her pistol is loaded. Before they leave, she’ll make sure this one is put along the horrible road of “dying by gut shot.”

She doesn’t have much to say about the ranting, however. He is far from the first ruin-obsessed madman she has put down.

Korum looks over at Torku, "So, it was the blooms." His eyes return to the fallen druid. "I hope you've made peace with whatever god you worship." He turns toward Lady Vulpina, "I'm going to take Vanick back to the trail and start heading toward the herbalist. I trust you and your 'pragmatism' have everything well in hand here." Without looking back, the half-orc turns Vanick and leads the man out of the grove.

"So, it was the blooms."

"I suppose we shouldn't be that surprised you just now figured that out, given your performance with their pets earlier." The tiefling scowls in thought. "But what he said implies the disease didn't originate with the flowers, but was added to them. So we still don't know the true source of this plague - only who was spreading it and how. Better than nothing I suppose."

With a consoling pat on the shoulder, "Hey, don't feel bad that I figured out before you did. Everyone knows how hard you're trying."

Makras follows the others, mildly annoyed that these druids were planning on the end of the world and he wasn't invited.

Vanick crashes ahead as best he can, trying to keep a distance for your sake but occasionally needing support. The trek to Falcon's Hollow takes nearly a full 24 hours, but before then, some of your mild exposure to the palepox starts making itself known!

Doran, Makras, and Korum, make Fortitude saves.

Still, no matter how bad their initial symptoms, you aren't stopped from reaching your destination. Slowed slightly, at worst. Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the facade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop Vanick points you to. It bears a faded sign declaring it as 'Roots and Remedies.' A young woman with a premature hunch and shocking white hair answers promptly despite the late hour. "I don't need to ask any questions before you come in and get comfortable. Best way to treat whatever ails you, and you look to need it."

The small, mud-tracked shop smells of burnt earth and spicy incense. Bunches of dried herbs, dangling pots, and drawstring pouches hang from the ceiling, and a cauldron bubbles softly on a table next to strange presses and alchemical apparatuses. Laurel has everyone get as situated as possible without enough chairs, then turns to business. "Now, if you could tell me what's the matter...?"

Is is a magic disease that bypasses my paladin immunity? I have been counting on that and trying to keep everyoneaway from our infected ward.

Fort: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28