Hmm's PF2 #1-07 Flooded King's Court and Other Tales (Inactive)

Game Master Hmm

All of you this morning received the following message from Drandle Dreng:

Greetings fellow seekers of knowledge!

The Society has been presented with a unique opportunity and I think you're just the ones to help out. As you have likely heard, Absalom has recently become the home of a group of goblin refugees displaced by the Whispering Tyrant's armies. They have settled in the Puddles, quite content to live in some of the abandoned buildings there.

We've also learned from Ziraya al-Shurati, a Muckrucker in the Puddles, that the goblins have been digging around in the basement of the old playhouse that belonged to the Greater Absalom Performing Arts Guild. They've claimed this building as their own. In the process, they stumbled across some manner of beast they could not defeat but instead managed to seal away. With the local guards, the Muckruckers, unwilling to help, we have a perfect opportunity to step in and learn something new about the history of Absalom.

Several of our more experienced goblin Pathfinders have been working hard to build inroads into the goblin community, and this has led to an offer by “king” Zusgut to hear our plea. Your job is to meet Zusgut, explain that we wish his permission to explore beneath his playhouse, and then perform an initial exploration and assessment. You'll likely not have much time for exploration given the tides probably flood the chambers below each day, but do your best!

Sincerely,
Drandle Dreng

P.S. I almost forgot! Eando Kline of the Vigilant Seal is watching this mission closely. He's worried about ancient evils being released into the world by Pathfinders and what that will do to the public's impression of us. While I know such things can't always be avoided, it would be best if you either destroyed anything dangerous that you find down there or if you must bring it back to the Lodge, be very discreet!

★ --- ★ --- ★ --- ★

It's a beautiful day in Absalom as you walk through the Puddles district. The sun is shining brightly on all the slop in the streets, and there are even a few dry places here and there to put your feet.

Feel free to introduce yourselves in character to your team, or just dot-and-delete to add this to your list of campaigns.

"Hullo. Me Copper BerryDwaite, of dem Absalom BerryDwaites. Copper not real name, Copper nick name. BerryDwaite not real name neeDer. Me ADOPTED. Copper is halfling now, just look like goblin. But is halfling. Dis me first assignment to PaDfinders. Me excited! Me favorite aunt is PaDfinder! Aunt Juniper. She BerryDwaite too! What your name?" The scrawny young goblin with big eyes and bigger ears does not seem to stop talking, nor even take a breath between sentences, but she appears friendly. "Me get pretty PaDfinder letter. You get letter too? Want trade? ..."

The sound of clinking metal precedes a relatively tall dwarven woman, her graying hair pulled back in a long braid.

"Hello, there!" she says with a warm smile that seems at odd with the large axe strapped to her hip.

She uncomfortably adjusts the shield on her back -- the source of the clinking becoming clear as a suit of chainmail before turning her full attention to the halfling lass.

"Well, aren't you just the cutest thing," she exclaims. "I'm Brynsil, but most people back home called me Grams, so you can too. That's lovely that you were adopted, but BerryDwaite is your real name. If you were adopted, love, that is your family and they wouldn't want you to say anything to hint that you're not part of their family. I know I wouldn't. And trust me, I have plenty of people I consider family, even if they're not by blood. I did help birth them, after all!"

She shakes her head gently at the offer of trade.

"No, because then everyone would think you were Brynsil Lustershale, and not Copper BerryDwaite, which is who. You. Are."

"Brynsil Lustershale pretty name. Wanna trade names? Me like being Berrythwaite, though. You keep Lustershale, me keep Berrythwaite." The goblin is overjoyed to have such a nice new friend.

This makes 4 posts under this name. Just keeping track so that I can still change it.

A weather-worn woman approaches the pair and gives them a nod. She's compact and hardy, muscled from a life of living off the land. She looked Varki, by descent, with a wide face and braided black hair. Her clothes are practical, and her backpack bulges with the weight of her gear.

"Greetings, Brynsil and Copper. I'm Iqu. A pathfinder, like yourselves. Pleasure to meet you."

At the sight of yet another goblin, she tilts her head. She's been teamed with with more goblins than she had any other race. She hadn't realized they were so common among the Pathfinder Society. Never, though, had she met one who lived among halflings. "You are unique, Copper. Be proud."

Copper, I think it usually tells you at the bottom for the first 10 posts.

"Hello, Iqu," Grams greets the new woman with a smile. "You can call me Grams, though. Not too many folks call me by my name anymore. I might forget to answer to it, at this point!"

She looks the newcomer up and down.

"You look like a woman who knows what she's about," she says approvingly. "Have you been a Pathfinder for long?"

From behind a rotting stack of crates a helmet pops up, then the tip of a crossbow, and then a grey beard. "Pathfinders eh? What's the secret password!" You hear tapping on the wood like drumming fingers, impatient drumming fingers.

"You know.. the THREE WORDS?" A Dwarven head now appears above the beard and below the helmet, eyes a bit bugged out.

"Me know!" Blue raises her hand excitedly, slightly hopping up and down. "Pick me! Pick me!" Finally, when the dwarf fails to call on her soon enough, she blurts out "EXPLORE!" with a self-satisfied nod to Grams and Iqu, forgetting to mention the other two words in the famous Pathfinder motto. Besides, exploring is the only fun part of being a Pathfinder anyway.

"Indeed, dear," Grams beams at the little halfling. "And then what do we do after we've explored, eh? Rrrr..."

"Rrr..." the blue goblin scrunches up her face as she's trying to think. "Rrr... Rrrr... RANSACK!" She smiles a toothy grin.

Scratch's head pops a bit farther up into view as the goblin hollers out one of the key words, but then it drops back down as she follows it up with ransack. Not good, not good. Another loot and pillager... gonna call down another cataclysm on everyone!

"WRONG!" He hollers, pointing his crossbow at the older Dwarf, surely she's got more sense. "Any day now, my back is hurting from all this stooping." The old fella admits, resting the stock of his crossbow on the crate for a bit of extra support.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?" Grams snaps at the newcomer. "Put that weapon away, boy! We're not going to kill each other and you should never aim a weapon if you don't intend to fire it. Blue, what do you think? Should we report this?"

Blue looks at Grams, then to Scratch, then back to Grams. "We will ... COH-OP-UH-RATE!" The goblin then begins giggling — though no one can be sure why — her ears flapping slightly with each laugh. Goblin humor doesn't always translate.

Grams shoots a triumphant grin, first to Blue, then to the new dwarf.

Finally hearing the last two words of the well known saying, Scratch shoulders his crossbow and clicks the safety back on. "Now now, one can't be too careful in the Puddles Ma'am. Lots of shifty stuff goes on here, and its my duty as one of the oldest members of the Vigilant Seal to not only explore, report and cooperate but to 'Protect, Contain, and Destroy'." He pulls out a copy of the same missive the others received.

He slings the weapon back over his shoulder on the strap and steps forward to properly introduce himself, following it up with a crisp salute "Scratch Steeltoe, field medic of the Five Mountains Infantry Division 2002, retired."

"Very nice to meet!" The goblin runs forward and gives Scratch Steeltoe a big hug. "Me Loola. Friends call me Bloo. You call me Bloo. Or Loola. Me not mind." she begins giggling at her own joke, even if it only makes sense to her. "What means 'Five Mountain Infancy Dah- Vishun'?" she asks, holding up four fingers. "Is that like Long Dah-vishun? That's boring."

A tall man diffidently approaches the group, deeply tanned yet unmistakably green. In one hand he holds Dreng's missive; in the other he clutches a pinecone and some dusty green sprigs of needles, as if for comfort.

"H..." He clears his throat. "Hello. Is this... the group for Drandle?" He hesitantly holds out his copy of the missive; a breath of wind makes it flutter. Seeing the other missives, he relaxes, just a little.

"Sandstone," he says, holding his bundle of herbs to his heart. "I... haven't done this before." He speaks as though words are the wrong shape for his mouth.

He tilts his head at the goblin. "What is... 'adopted'?"

Excited by the prospect of another new friend, Bloo begins to chronicle her entire life story for Sandstone, only pausing to giggle from time to time.

Iqu regards the elderly dwarves and the childish antics of the goblin with a fond smile. "What an eccentric team we make. I admit to being pleased. Feels homey." She nods at Grams. "No, I haven't been a Pathfinder long. This is my second mission. I've just returned from Xin-Edasseril. Not a pleasant place."

Iqu gives Sandstone a nod. "Greetings, Sandstone. You're in the right place."

"Very nice to meet!" The goblin runs forward and gives Scratch Steeltoe a big hug. "Me Loola. Friends call me Bloo. You call me Bloo. Or Loola. Me not mind." she begins giggling at her own joke, even if it only makes sense to her. "What means 'Five Mountain Infancy Dah- Vishun'?" she asks, holding up four fingers. "Is that like Long Dah-vishun? That's boring."

"Never heard of 'em have ya? Ya, gobbies are pretty young..." He scratches his beard and tries to figure out how to word his response in the present Pathfinder Society 'climate'. "One of the many groups of foot soldiers of the Dwarven Kingdom. Real good at fighting our enemies.." He leaves it at that, and returning the hug with a gentle pat on the back.

As the two new souls show up Scratch is quick to give a squinted eye to their missives, checking that the water marks match up. "Ahh good, three was too few, but five ain't bad... how sneaky are ye?" He gives the new comers a once over to get a feel for their weapons and armor. He himself is wearing studded leather and carrying a sheathed short sword and a crossbow.

Iqu, who wears hide amor and a shield, and bears multiple hand-carved clubs and a simple spear, shakes her head. "Not very. Why? Do you expect stealth will. be required?"

When Scratch Steeltoe returns Blue's letter from Drandle Drang to her, she takes out a tindertwig, strikes it, and sets the paper on fire. She cackles in delight at watching the correspondence burn. Seeing the confused looks on her companions' faces, she offers an explanation, "Words bad luck."

In response to the dwarf's question of stealth, the goblin lass drops the paper on the ground where it continues to smolder, then quickly adopts a catlike pose and tries to sneak up behind Iqu, while she's distracted speaking to Scratch.

Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"WOOF!" Blue then begins another bout of stifled giggling, the sound of a dog barking being the scariest sound she knows how to make.

Iqu raises an eyebrow at the goblin, impressed with her sudden silence. As the goblin giggles, Iqu suddenly turns and snarls at her, making her best impersonation of a bear.

Nature (to imitate an animal sound?): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

She gives the goblin a wink.

"EEP!" the frightened goblin falls backwards into the water and casts shield, and dragon scales appear to cover her body when she does so. Then, seeing that Iqu was playing a prank on her, Blue begins giggling. "Me not scared of bear! Me Dragon Novice."

"You teach Bloo make bear sound?" she asks her new friend.

She begins to try on her own. "Rrr... Rrr... Rrr... RANSACK!" and grins at Grams.

You all have no idea how much I wanted to have Drandle's letter explode into purple fireworks when Loola set fire to it.

You all have no idea how much I wanted to have Drandle's letter explode into purple fireworks when Loola set fire to it.

Nothing would have made Loola happier, to be honest. Eyebrows grow back.

Sandstone glances gratefully at Iqu. Quietly observing the playful banter between his new companions, a hint of a smile forms on his face. Despite everything being extremely wet and very full of people, he begins to feel a little more at home.

Turning to Scratch, he says, "I move quietly, but also..." He beckons to Loola, holds out his hand, and casts prestidigitation. Sand cascades from nowhere into his open hand, outlining the form of a small lizard. Looking back to Scratch, he finishes, "... I can be hard to see."

Turning to Scratch, he says, "I move quietly, but also...I can be hard to see."

As if on cue, a disheveled human woman rounds a corner behind the group, her silent steps incongruous with her disorganized appearance. She catches sight of the group and halts, blinking wide eyes. Pushing loose, dark hair out of her face, she squints at the files clutched in her hand. "Pathfinders, I hope?" she calls, ruining any hope of a quiet approach. "Gods curse it—" the woman mutters as she nearly drops her papers in a puddle. It has been A. Day.

Catching the eyes of her presumed colleagues, the woman grins wryly. "Um, hi. I'm Tess."

Blue grins wide-eyed at the sight of the newcomer and her armload of flammable tinder, then stretches out a small blue hand. "Me Loola Berrythwaite of Absalom Berrythwaites. Me Dragon Novice. Also me named Bloo. That Gram. That Iqu. That Wutsizzname of Five Mountain Infancy Divishun. That Otherwutsizzname Sandstone. He make sand lizard." Loola points to each of the Pathfinders in turn.

"Do you have letter too?" she asks, hopefully. "I lost mine," she adds with a giggle.

Tess stifles a smile at the irrepressible Dragon Novice and ponders her stack of papers gravely. "Well met, and thank you for the colorful introductions, Blue! Would you like to hold on to my letter for me?" Shifting the files to her other arm, she extends the missive towards her new goblin friend.

Iqu, who wears hide amor and a shield, and bears multiple hand-carved clubs and a simple spear, shakes her head. "Not very. Why? Do you expect stealth will. be required?"

"Never required, but always handy." He grins, observing the burning paper with zero surprise, almost a slight bit of relief that goblins aren't completely evolved yet.

"Hard to see?" He glances at the lizard and shrugs. "I'll take yer word on it. I've got eyes like an eagle, not much gets past me... and I can put a bolt through the eye of a needle at 100 yards, just in case they try..."

He finally nods in greeting to the woman who just arrived. "Scratch Steeltoe, good 'nuff fer now."

Perception (expert): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

"It sounds like there's a story there," Grams says sympathetically to Scratch.

"I was quiet enough not to wake all the babies up back home, but in all this?" she adds, gesturing to her armor, "I don't think I can keep all that quiet. The mail jingles a bit, I'm afraid. But my children gave it to me and insisted I wear it, once I convinced them I really was leaving."

She greets the newcomer with a warm smile, still chuckling over Bloo's theatrics. She was a darling child, though Grams thought she might turn out to be a handful for the Berrythwaites. She was sure they must be worrying about her.

You finally reach the old Playhouse of the Performing Arts Guild. The structure has proven resilient to the daily flooding. It is roughly square‑shaped and measures 120 feet on each side of the outside walls. The stone foundation is in rather good condition considering the earthquake 20 years ago, and the wooden walls are still solid, but the exterior's paint is mostly chipped away, many windows are broken, and the wooden shingles rotten and failing. A few creeping plants grow along the exterior.

What Do You Know Before You Go?

Taking a few minutes to ask around the neighbors, Grams and Tess learn that he Crookedtoes goblins are led by Zusgut, who is obsessed with performance and acting. His tribe has taken over an old playhouse in the Puddles district that no one else wants because the Puddles are slowly sinking. They also hear the rumor that Zusgut is frustrated with the lack of enthusiasm from his tribe toward theater and would love extra help from anyone who is interested.

Tess remembers another tidbit about the Puddles district itself. There are certainly ancient structures below what is now called the Puddles. In the past, such places have been troubled by corporeal undead such as ghouls, ghasts, skeletons, and zombies. Older residents of the area tell stories of screams that would occasionally seem to emanate from somewhere deep beneath the streets.

I may give up on this whole secret roll thing after a bit and just let you roll your own... this is quite a bit more work for the GM. But I'm starting out with it for now, trying to keep with the spirit of 2E.

Armed with the power of local gossip, you enter inside.

Flickering torches fail to fully illuminate this large auditorium within the mostly‑ruined playhouse. Hints of the former beauty and majesty of the building are marred by the smell of mildew and ever‑present water puddles. The northern end of the space is occupied by a raised stage, with a large chair that must have once been used as a throne in a theatrical production long ago.

Goblins move throughout the room, some gathered in small clusters roasting food over open fires, others sleeping in what remains of the auditorium's chairs. On the crumbling balcony, a goblin choir rehearses, each member singing a different song, or perhaps the same song with different words, lyrics, and tempo. Goblin children chase each other about, their leashes dangling from their necks as they screech and shout. Occasionally a leash catches on a bit of furniture or rubble, bringing the wearer crashing to the ground while their companions laugh uproariously.

From atop the throne a voice rings out, cutting across the chaos, clear and annunciated, although obviously still a goblin's. “Oho, what's this! Another group looking to throw their hats into the ring, as it were? Probably the Pathfinders I was expecting.” There is an angry yell from a group of humans wearing armor and bearing sheathed weapons dimly visible near the stage. The goblin turns and addresses the interruption from the grousing warriors. “Now, now. I never said anything about exclusive rights, did I? Hah!

“So, Pathfinders. I'm sure you've heard about our trouble with a creature in the basement. What is it your organization is willing to do for my kingdom, and why should I let you go instead of these fine folks?” he asks, gesturing to the warriors.

The human warriors all glare at you, one of them muttering, "We were here first."

What do you do?

"Not worry. Me handle this," Blue whispers to her companions before striding forward.

"King Zusgut! Me Loola Berrythwaite. Pathfinders bring gifts!" Blue pulls a tindertwig out of her pocket, strikes it, and sets it to light on the load of papers being carried by her friend, Tess.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"Pathfinders take care of basement creature," she vows confidently, then quickly asks, somewhat less sure of herself, "How big creature?"

Regaining her composure, the little goblin lass continues, "We not scared of basement creature. Me Dragon Novice. Him in Five Mountain Infancy Divishun," pointing at Scratch. "Him make sand lizard for you," pointing at Sandstone. Then pointing at Iqu, "She make best bear sound."

"It's not nice to leave people out, Blue," Grams tries to instruct. "What about me?"

Despite the correction, she's impressed with the little halfling goblin's attempt, and general friendliness. Surely, the goblin king would respond.

She turns her attention to the talk folk in the playhouse with them.

"And who are you?" she asks, taking a close look at them. We heard the Muckruckers weren't willing to help."

Perception (expert): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Yeah, I haven't quite decided the easiest way to handle secret rolls either. I will admit I like the legitimate uncertainty of not knowing for sure if the information I've gotten is accurate vs. the meta gaming of it, but it also seems like a lot of work for the GMs (maybe even moreso in the PBP format?).

Blue is embarrassed by her chastisement. "Oh, that Grams. She nice and smell like fresh cookies."

I do admit secret rolls are more work on the GM, but I must also admit, I do like not knowing my rolls on things and whether info is likely to be truth or hearsay.

Scratch is happy to let Blue head inside first, A goblin den, best not send in the old goblin stomper first... who are those guys...

"Name's Scratch" the old Dwarf nods to the Chieftain, about as far of a friendly greeting he's ever given to a greenskin outside the society. Times have changed, he's trying.

"We're here to help with your problem, keep those little rock chewers of yers safe from anythin' bad down b'low. Lotta bad stuff in this part of town, who knows how bad, we're gonna find out."

+4 society if that helps ID the other human group. Or +7 expert perception.

"Oooooh!" The little goblin babies running around trailing leashes all react with pleasure at seeing Tess's files alight in flame. It was a good thing these were not the original files, but copies.

Then an old female goblin runs up with a bucket, splashing both Tess and Loola as she dumps it all over the burning papers.

SPLASH!

All the baby goblins jump up and down and wail, "Velvik!!!! Nooooooo! It was Pretty! Fiiiiiiire!"

The old female goblin, apparently named Velvik, points her bucket at a freshly painted sign on the wall that reads:

PLEES NO FIRES EXSEPT SPESHEL EFFECTS PERFORMUNS!

"You want to do fire? Do it on STAGE, as part of performance!" Velvik says. "You want to risk burning down the theater?"

Several goblins raise their hands at this question.

SPLASH!

Velvik casts a spell to refill the bucket and sloshes each of them with it. "No! You! Don't! Aaaaaaarrgh! By Sarenrae, that was a rhetorical question!"

"Still, GOOD DRAMATIC ENTRANCE!" the goblin king beams at Loola. "Better than those phillistines!" King Zusgut points at the all human group. Then he waves his arms. "The only thing grander than fire is.... THEATER!"

No one in the group recognizes the warriors as being from any of Absalom's gangs. Sandstone's best guess is that their cheap hired swords... but hired by whom? Meanwhile Tess realizes something really important about Zusgut. While the King seems to approve of your group of Pathfinders (which after all includes a goblin), he's also delighted at the prospect of you competing with the mercenaries to provide entertainment for the tribe!

You can try to impress Zusgut in a number of ways: artistry, bribery, flattery or even just fixing up his decrepit and decaying theater.

Meanwhile the humans seem amused to be addressed by Grams. "They've got granny dwarfs out monster hunting? And look, there's another old dwarf over there! Where were you recruited from, a home for old toothless adventurers?" One of them leans forward and says, "It doesn't matter who we are. We're younger and stronger than you. Go home, grandma."

Tess stops wondering if "the goblins lit my homework on fire" will be an acceptable excuse to her employer and focuses again on Zusgut. "It's clear we've found a true thespian," she says to the goblin king. Her voice takes on a more charming timbre and her posture straightens, the "hapless clerk" image falling away as she approaches and gestures grandly to the decrepit hall as though it were the finest opera house. "Perhaps we could regale you with a tale or two of our own?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Edit: Ninja'd by Tess!

A sopping wet Blue grumbles to herself, "Maybe theater need burn down..."

Then she turns her attention back to Zusgut. "Yes! Tess regale you with her tail." She looks confused for a moment, then turns to Tess and whispers, "Me not know Tess have tail."
Diplomacy (is Aid a thing?): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

(Whoops! On the same page :D )

Grams laughs at the water-bucket play, clapping along. It wasn't how she ever disciplined her own children, but ... maybe it should have been? It sure seems effective.

What?" she says, turning to the humans with a scowl, her kind demeanor falling away to be replaced with a flinty look. "I must be getting heard of hearing, because it sounded like you were trying to insult me. And Scratch. Where I come from, you're not old enough to be out of diapers yet. Keep it up, and that's what you'll be in again!"

She turns her attention back to the king.

"I'm not much of a performer, your majesty, but I can certainly put on a fight scene for you," she offers. "Or help out around the theater. All sorts of ways to be helpful, not to mention making sure those little boys don't get hurt by any monsters you have down below."

Pretty harsh as a fresh level 1 to not be able to afford your skill kits. I have craft and can do some work on the theater, but no tools.

Scratch pays the human children no mind. He's got enough wisdom to know now isn't the time to cause a ruckus just for his own pride. A&@!~%#s.

"Big inta the drama club stuff? Yer stage could use a bit of fixin, if ya got some tools I could help with it. A trap door that needs greasin'? Even better at that.." He nods in appreciation of the elder goblin's good sense.

Craft, +1 if considered trap or alchemy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Iqu shakes her head at the other group. "Disrespect often spills from the lips of the ignorant," she scolds. "You judge too early."

Iqu surveys the theatre. "I may be able to help with repairs."

Craft: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Sandstone, feeling increasingly out of place yet wanting to prove his worth, tries to think of something useful to do. He closes his eyes and pushes out with his spirit. He gasps and a tear comes unwanted to his eye.

"This place is ... sad." He fumbles an aromatic smudge stick out of his bandolier pouch and holds it out in both hands toward the goblin King. "I don't know tools, but fire and smoke can also do good."

Herbalism: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Well that was a horrible roll but now I know how the dice tag works!

The old female goblin with a bucket, Velvik, watches Sandstone with narrowed eyes, but since he did not light the smudge, she eventually takes a sniff. "Smells good," she says, patting Sandstone on the knee before toddling off.

I realize as GM that I did not completely entail one of the ways that you can impress King Zusgut. Basically, the 'fix-up-the-theater' option does not require a craft roll so much as TIME. Specifically, the four days of downtime that you would get from this chronicle sheet. If you are willing to sacrifice your downtime and pledge four days helping him out -- whether it is providing day care to his actors, fixing up the theater, helping him gladhand theater people or reading his scripts -- that is worth a favor point with him.

If you decide that you want to offer the time, feel free to pledge that in character.