[RD][PFS2] 1-01 Absalom Inititaion -- Shadow Lodge (Inactive)

Game Master Andrew Harasty

Before heading across the main hall again, Berry puts it together that something is haunting the main hall as well. The "not rat" noises sound more like hands. He gets a sense of flesh flaking off the rotting hands reveals smooth porcelain underneath.

Walking across would most likely have the spectral hands claw at you.

Berry holds out his tendril-like arms as he hisses through his fanged mouth. "Stop where you are." Squinting his eyes he attempts to peer at the unseen. "I have a bad feeling about going back across. This place is haunted and I get the sense it wants to lash out at us."

With a few simple rituals you are able to surpress the haunt in the main room.

Heading safely to the eastern wing.

Dining Room

The furniture in this once-fine dining room was crushed by the debris falling from the floors above. What remains is sodden and mostly unidentifiable.

Nothing else of note is in here.

Parlor

A large, long-cold fireplace stands in the east wall of this expansive parlor, but the furnishings are all rotted. A dank stench of mold lingers in the air. The ceiling overhead has collapsed, leaving the room open to the sky. The floor in the room’s southern end has followed suit, leaving a gaping hole into darkness.

Jorgan realizes the the hole in the corner red square is unstable and would need to be shored up before investigating safely.

Lough helps Jorgan shore up the hole, breaking out some simple tools... then suddenly realizing he forgot to bring them (no Repair Kit ((Doh!))), improvises with some items from his Adventurer's Pack (some rope, belt pouches, chalk,... ??)

Crafting (Trained): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

"That doesn't look safe." grumbles Jorgran.

Watching Lough attempt to fix the issue, he inquires "Did it work? Is it good now?"

With Jorgran's oversight, Lough attempts to correct a mistake...

Hero Point!
Crafting (Trained): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"Think that should do it..."

With a last minute bit of inspiration Lough secures the floorboards to safely investigate the hole in the floor. Looking down you see the remains of a humanoid.

Berry peers down into the darkness. "One of the lost recovery teams?" He pulls out a small vine (rope) and wraps it around the couch. Giving it a small tug he looks down. "We should recover the body."

"Aye laddy. You are correct."

Eyeing the hole and the rope, he volunteers. "Keep an eye on the rope and I'll try to get 'em. Dredge, stay here."

Athletics to climb down (Trained): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Glancing around, he tries to ensure he is alone in the hole before inspecting the fallen creature.

Looking closely at the body you see they are wearing the vestments and symbols of a priest of Pharasma. Included in their belongings is a block of funerary incense.

Other than dealing with this body, you have explored all you can of the house and now just need to spend the night.

Looking closely at the body you see they are wearing the vestments and symbols of a priest of Pharasma. Included in their belongings is a block of funerary incense.

Other than dealing with this body, you have explored all you can of the house and now just need to spend the night.

"If we are going to see the night through, then we should see this one on their proper way." Athelsted says solemnly, preparing to perform appropriate rites for a formal burial of the priest.

"Good idea, Althelstead. I don't know much Religion, but leaving a dead priest there can't be a good idea."

Poob's mood falls when the body is discovered. "That's a shame."

Lough just shrugs.

"Should we bury it in the back?" he offers

"The back seems as good a place as any." agrees the dwarf.

Tieing his own rope around the corpse, he climbs back up before dragging it to the first floor.

You properly deal with the remains. Having explored what you can of the house you settle in for the evening.

Nothing dangerous happens, but there are the occasional cries of pleas of not going back to the doll. The occasional off key lullaby. And at one point the sound of porcelain scrapping along wood.

In the morning you return to Calisro, Triumphant in your daring.

She offers you around of some "morning lubrication" that is somewhat spicy and with just a touch of honey.

After celebrating with Calisro, Janira Gavix races down the hall, her blond hair flying in her excitement. “I just heard you made it back—congratulations! It sounds like everything went, well, about as well as anyone could expect. Come with me, I have something for each of you.”

The halfling woman leads the way into a small office and distributes finely crafted wooden boxes. Within each, a gleaming compass lid emblazoned with the Glyph of the Open Road and an engraved name lies upon a cushion of silk. “I’m not sure if you’ve picked up your own wayfinders yet, but when you do, you should have ones that prove that you belong. Now it’s official,” she beams. “Welcome to the Pathfinder Society!”