[Outpost IV] GM Enchanter's Flooded King's Court (Inactive)

Game Master Enchanter Tim

From a ruined theater in the run-down Puddles district of Absalom, a goblin hero and self-styled king rules over the nearby goblins. Shifting foundations beneath the playhouse have revealed ruins from Absalom's early history, and the goblin king has put out a call for explorers to search the area and clear out its dangers. The Pathfinder Society has answered the call. They aren't the only group that is interested, however, and they must prove themselves to earn the right to enter these lost chambers.

After receiving a message from Drandle Dreng, you find yourself gathering outside an old playhouse in the Puddles District.

Feel free to introduce yourselves before we start

Hobbling along, leaning heavily on a thick and sturdy cane (functions as a club), a hunched half-orc woman past the peak of her life approaches the dilapidated facade of the old playhouse. She's masticating some jerky like a cow chewing its cud when a black rat pokes its head out of her pocket and squeaks imperiously at her. "Shut up you stupid rat! Here! Now stop it!" She grumbles sharply at it as she bites off a piece of jerky and shoves it, and the rat, roughly into her pocket. There's a final squeak of petulant defiance before the rat settles quietly into its fabric holding cell. The woman turns her back to the wall and stands stock still, doing a passable imitation of a gargoyle as she waits for the others who were supposed to be here.

Mostly hidden under a thick grey woolen cloak, Birgid Sapphiresong--paladin of the dwarven pantheon and exile of Glimmerhold--pauses in front of the playhouse and sighs. Delving into ruins at the behest of a goblin king can't be any messier than playing kingmaker in the Riverlands. I hope.

Stomping her feet in a vain effort to knock some of the grime off, the dwarf nods to the half-orc watching her over by the wall. "Are you here at Dreng's request as well?"

There's a pause as the gray half-orc looks over the newcomer. Sighing, she grumbles: "<sigh> Yup. Can't wait. Name's Itka."

Jogging up behind the dwarf comes a human woman, the hood of her own cloak flying off as she runs and exposing her short, dark brown hair. "I don't understand how you can get around so quickly on such short legs," she complains to Birgid. After a moment to catch her breath, she smooths out her cloak and offers a gloved hand to Itka. "Pleasure to meet you. My name is Erryn."

"I don't understand how you can get around so quickly on such short legs,"

"Efficiency," Birgid retorts with a dignified sniff. "I decide where I'm going and then I go there."

Her slate-colored lips quirk with wry amusement around a single tusk as Itka takes Erryn's hand in an iron grip. Her arm seems unusually long for her body as she stretches it out of the voluminous ratty robes she wears, but that may just be because her posture is deeply hunched. "Itka. I walk slow too." She indicates her cane as the wind blows black hair lightly streaked with gray into her eyes. She flicks it away with a glower that emphasizes her ever-present frown lines.

A goblin lurks behind the corner of the playhouse, observing the approaching people. Only when he sees the familiar faces of Erryn and Birgid, he seems to relax and comes out into the plain view. He waves at the two Pathfinders and jogs closer.

"Erryn! Birgid! Me so happy see you!" the goblin says with relief in his voice.
"Strange homeless-looking man give Zug note, tell come here. Say it's Pathfinder business. Me not know if to trust strange man. But now me see you here too, so must be real job!"

The goblin, small and scrawny and clad in very mismatching colors of assorted materials now notices the half-orc as well. He smiles warmly and extends his hand in greeting.

"Hello, me Zug! Me Pathfinder! You Pathfinder,too?"

Extending her long arm again, Itka takes Zug's hand without hesitation, squeezing without shaking. She answers him in a grinding, gravelly voice: "Aye. Name's Itka. Fairly new Pathfinder myself. A 'homeless-looking man', you say, huh? Sounds like Drandle Dreng. Hmp. The man has a reputation." Her eyes smile wryly, though her mouth remains settled in its customary frown.

Erryn waves back to the goblin, smiling "Zug! I did not expect to see you here. If you're coming with, this is sure to be an interesting job."

A voice speaks from above you, speaking common with a detectable Jalmerayan accent, "Ah, hello, Cleric Canmore! Do you remember me? We went to Xin Edasseril together and rescued those refugees." Looking up at the voice, you see a gnome of indeterminant gender, dressed in a dark cloak, balancing on a third story windowsill of a nearby building. "Zagnut says hello as well."

From a nearby windowsill, a purple squirrel chirps and waves.

Birgid sketches a small bow to the enthusiastic goblin. "It is good to see that you're well, Master Zug. Have you learned any new songs since we parted ways?" Her smile takes on a more hopeful cast. "Perhaps a new instrument...?"

If Zug doesn't go on to found the Cult of the Blue Oyster he will make Birgid's player very sad.

When the gnome makes himself known Birgid turns and extends her greeting to him as well. "A friend of Erryn's is a friend of mine. Birgid Sapphiresong, at your service." She gives the squirrel--Zagnut?--a bow as well just in case. It was never a bad idea to be nice to familiars.

Squinting up at the newcomer's voice, Itka's brows furrow in confusion. A purple squirrel? And why not come down here to talk? "Hmp." She gives the third story daredevil a nod of acknowledgement, but refuses to shout up there without a better cause than this.

The gnome deftly scurries down the wall. The squirrel, on the other hand, leaps from the windowsill, flying through the air to land gracefully on the ground near the group.

As the gnome catches up, they offer a nod of their head. "You may call me Highwire. Zagnut and I perform in various circuses, and sometimes take on jobs with the Pathfinder Society as well." Pulling back the hook on their cloak reveals an elaborately styled mountain of rainbow-colored hair. The gnome whistles, and Zagnut launches itself into the air, performs a triple flip, then makes a deft landing on the gnome's head, vanishing in hairdo. Highwire pulls their hood back up.

"Let us hope this mission involves less lugging rowboats around through the city sewer system."

"Oh, noooo. Me never could change instrument. Cowbell is bestest!" Zug says, shaking his head at the idea. He takes the cowbell from his belt and clanks it a few times to prove his point. "But many new songs, yes, yes! Right now me practice song called (Don't Crit) The Reaper. But bossman say it could use more cowbell - so me practice very hard to make more sound."

The goblin is about to start giving a sample of the song, but is suddenly distracted by Highwire's arrival. "Oh, hello Highwire and Zagnut! Me impressed, you very skillful. Me never been to circus, so if you coming to mission, all mission feel like circus. Great!"

As Zug clanks his cowbell, Itka nods in approval, commenting in her harsh voice: "Everything sounds better with more cowbell." The corner of her lips quirks upward; it's hard to tell if she's serious or joking.

Her black eyes widen in surprise at the sudden appearance of voluminous rainbow hair when Highwire doffs their hood. Wow. That's...a lot of color. Far too flashy for me. She seems relieved when the brown hood covers all that brightness once again.

Erryn's gaze is summoned upward by Highwire's invocation of her name, and her eyes widen in recognition. "Of course I remember you, Master Sanja! The way you punched that door open in a single blow was incredible." As he climbs down to ground level she looks around at the gathered agents. "It's been some time since I saw this many familiar faces in a single place. An auspicious beginning to this particular mission."

The old playhouse 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. You all are reminded of what the letter from Drandle Dreng stated.

Welcome everyone! Let's get started! As is usual, the GM Screen is for me, and the individual spoilers are for those characters only. I don't consider information to have been shared by default - if you wish to share your information, you can relay it in character, or tell others in ooc that the spoiler is open. Note that you may all have different information.

Ernir Boulderguard was, as always, fashionably on time. Or as his mentor back in the citadel used to say, late as usual. He donned his typical purple robes with inlaid gold trimming and a gold circlet, all barely visible under his lilac cloak. "Presto!" he shouted every few seconds with a disgusted face as he approached the old playhouse, each presto cleaning his robes from the great amounts of mud on the streets. "Why would I take a mission in such a filthy place?"

The wizard sneered at the rest of the people outside of the building. "Look at you. All dirty, caked in mud..." the dwarf said as he exclaimed presto once more, leaving his clothes inmaculate. "You're the rest of the pathfinders, I suppose."
Ernir stopped for a second to recompose, exclaiming loudly, "Excuse me, where are my manners? My name is Ernir of the Boulderguard clan in Janderhoff. Pray tell, who might you be?"

Spoiler is open once we begin discussing the mission.

Eyes slit and lip curled with disgust, the hunched half orc (arguably the most ratty looking) retorts with a voice that sounds like gravel being crushed between rough granite slabs: "Well, if you don't like how dirty we are, you're welcome to cast your little spell on someone besides yourself!" She turns back to the more agreeable members of the group. "As I was about to say, I didn't have much time to research our mission after getting it, but I did manage to find out some things. The 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." She looks up at the building beside them. "The playhouse seems old. I wonder how old."

"Hello, Ernie! Welcome! Me Zug!" Zug is the first to welcome the dwarf to their ranks, and offers his only-slightly-mud-caked-hand for shaking.

"Me knows this building," Zug exclaims proudly once the introductions are over. "Is owned by Crookedtoes goblins. They really love plays and acting. Bestest goblin playhouse in all Absalom!"

Feel free to open Zug's spoiler for more detailed description

Updated my token on the slides. I also added a slide with a picture that comes pretty close to what I've pictured for Highwire (and Zagnut) out of Hero Forge.

Highwire nods. "Yes, the letter tells us that we are to meet with this 'King Zusgut.' I suppose we should go into the playhouse, then ... and hope it does not fall down around our ears."

I'm currently in front in the marching order, but I wonder if the Champion perhaps would want to take point. I will generally be doing Avoid Notice as my exploration activity, though, so it might make sense for me to be in front. Just wanted to give others the option. I am definitely not diplomacy-inclined, so in this case someone else taking the lead might make sense.

Erryn gives the wizard a skeptical look before turning her attention to Itka. "I know precious little about this place," she admits, "so I am grateful for what you've learned for us already. Let's head inside."

Birgid, you with us?

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.

"Do I look like a maid to you? I'll have you know I don't take offense lightly!" Ernir scoffed at Itka. He stared at her in the eyes for slightly too long before moving away. "... Fair enough, but only this one time. We have to be presentable for the king, after all."
Ernir focused, grabbing his staff with both hands and channeling his magic while chanting in an arcane language. Rays of purple mana swirled through the air, reaching each of his companions. As the ray touched them, their clothes -dirty and wrinkly- became pressed and spotless. Their hair -oily and unkempt- became clean and styled. Even their mouths tasted different, their teeth squeaky clean, with a slight hint of fresh mint.

He then looked at the goblin who gleefully introduced himself."Ah! Another one with manners, however little. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Zug." Ernir shook his hand, enveloping it whole with his rough fingers.

"I don't see a point on us dillydallying out here any longer. Let's go meet this alleged 'king'."

Before entering the building...

"Be careful, friends. If the Venture Captain's information is to be trusted all is not well with King Zusgut and the Crookedtoes tribe. It seems unquiet spirits haunt the playhouse--or the extensive ruins beneath--and drive the poor goblins to reenact their tragic ends. The ruins have a history of being lair of various other undead in the past. Best to be prepared."

+ + + + + + + + + + +

Birgid inclines her head in a respectful gesture to the goblin leader. "You must King Zusgut of the famed Crookedtoes tribe. While I admire your wisdom and foresight in hiring a second band of troubleshooters, it was entirely unnecessary. We are Pathfinders, and our reputation precedes us. More than that, many of us are members in good standing of the Vigilant Seal, and we will not leave good folk in danger, nor are we in the habit of asking others to clean up our messes. If you want the job done right the first time, you will entrust it to us." Whatever that might be...

Highwire peers over at the group of humans, inspecting them to see what he can tell of them. Adventurers or mercenaries, perhaps? He specifically looks to see if they wear any distinctive emblem that might give a clue as to their affiliations.

Erryn's jaw sets in response to Birgid's warning. "I've faced undead before. I'll be ready."

Itka is the last to enter the Playhouse, her heavy cane thumping loudly on the floor as she shuffles after the group. Arriving just in time to hear the tail end of the king's speech, she peers around the auditorium. Brigid's earlier warning rings in her mind. Undead? Hmp. I prepared the wrong spell today. Oh well. Stooping, she scrabbles around on the floor, collecting random debris: pebbles and the like. Stuffing them in a pocket, she gruffly announces. "Hmp. I'm ready." As ready as I'll be today, anyway. As an aside to Brigid, who seems to have taken the role of spokesperson, she mutters: "You think we should tell him we'll look into their nasty spirit problem? We'll probably have to deal with it anyway."

"Ooooh, did you hear that Gerrod?!" Zusgut gives a grin to one of the human warriors. "You are 'unnecessary'." The goblin king chortles and claps in delight at the claim-turned-insult.

He turns back to Birgid. "I like you dwarf. So confident. But I can't turn these others away just because you say so..."

Hmp. Well fine. Stumping forward with her awkward gait, Itka lowers her head in a bow to the king. "Your Majesty," she begins, her harsh voice reverberating around the auditorium. "I can offer my services as a herbalist to your tribe for a time, in exchange for your permission to explore the ruins beneath your home." There. Does that satisfy your bloated ego, you little annoyance?

"King Zusgut. My name is Ernir Boulderguard, and I've heard you're quite fond of entertainment." The dwarf touched the point of his staff, a dim light appearing on it. The light grew brighter and brighter, and suddenly he pointed it to the ceiling, small fireworks emanating from the tip and illuminating the playhouse for a fraction of a second each as they exploded.

A chorus of "oooohhh" erupts from the goblins at Ernir's fireworks. In response a goblin pyromancer conjures fire and nearly sets himself aflame.

But King Zusgut seems more keen on Itka's offer. "Really? That would be wonderful! Do you do carpentry too? That rainstorm the other night sprung a leak in the west hall. Or we could use someone to paint the ceiling in the balcony area. Goblins have a hard time reaching that high." He sighs, and you realize how concerned the King is about their home.

It's meant to be downtime helping with the playhouse, but time is time.

Erryn gives a sideways glance to the pyromancer before returning to King Zusgut. "I am also a healer of no small skill. I imagine you have some subjects in need of medical attention for, say, burns and bruises."

Highwire perks up. "I am quite a good climber, good sir King Zusgut, and would be happy to offer my services to help with this ceiling painting in your balcony area."

"In that case..." The wizard ponders for a bit as he looks around the playhouse. "I know! I saw some stone outside, I can build a good foundation and lay a stone floor that won't flood. With your subjects help, of course." Ernir's duties as a noble in Janderhoff included the ocassional oversight of roadworks, it could probably apply to here too. He'd just need to figure out how to stop everything from sinking.

"Greeting, o' mighty king Zusgut!" Zug begins, and approaches with a deep bow.

"As you hear already. We not only deal with basement monsters (and no big deal - we is mighty heroes), we also paint roof! Zusgut kingdom never look better!" the goblin paints his claims with gestures of monster-fighting and roof-painting. Curiously, they look pretty much the same activity the way Zug expresses them.

"And best of all, we make great songs of Zusgut kingdom, and sing all around world. Everyone hear songs, and know Zusgut kingdom is bestest kingdom and makes bestest plays! Zusgut and kingdom be famous! Everyone come watch Crookedtoe's plays!"

And a dramatic pause. Zug's lips are moving slightly as he counts seconds for the optimal length of silence.

"So of course we bestest choice to help you!"

So does everyone want to offer your downtime after the scenario to help the goblins? Now that everyone has seen some of the interactions, I'll open the previous spoiler to you all in case you want to offer something different. Offering your downtime will mean that you cannot earn income at the end of the scenario.

You believe the King has already made up his mind, but is looking for entertainment or wants more for his ego. Displays of artistry (Performance), flattery (Diplomacy), bribery (payment), or a pledge of their free time (downtime) might sweeten the pot.

King Zusgut seems delighted with the offers. He claps his hands and stand on his perch, dancing a bit. "Excellent! Excellent! Crookedtoes home will be bestest!"

I can offer downtime, no problem

Zug joins the dancing and clapping hands eagerly. "Yes, me sing song right away!" he volunteers.

The goblins starts pacing back and forth, rubbing his head and ears and chin, muttering to himself as he goes.

"...what rhymes with king... ping... ding... Zusgut-feelgutt... nonono... rhymes lame, not needed, me just sing louder.."

Then the goblin hops onto a table, draws out his instruments and starts playing. After a (thankfully) short cowbell intro, Zug bursts into song - with a voice surprisingly high and silvery clear.

"His deep
Dark eyes
Keep watch on his kingdom
And the mysteries that sleeps safe inside
His hall
His towers of stone
Shall not be overthrown
For eternity
It is guarded by the king
Fame and the power that it brings

Zusgut reigns
In the Hall of the Goblin King
Oh yeah
In the Hall of the Goblin King
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"

Perform: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Community service is basically what Birgid is all about. She'll offer downtime too.

"Just so, Zug!" Birgid gives the goblin a small applause. Since the king seems to be mostly just yanking their chain to angle for a better deal, the paladin turns her attention to studying the rival claimants. If it seems reasonable to do so she draws nearer to speak with them.

I spent most of my life fixing and cleaning someone else's house, and I never want to again! Itka hides the rising fear-based hatred that rises at the memory of her past and makes like a statue, hoping that the king will forget about her and dismiss her offer as unnecessary in the end. She won't go back on her initial word if he insists, but she's not going to remind him of it, either.

Itka's downtime as an herbalist will only be offered if the king remembers it, since he clearly wants stuff she's not willing to admit that she could do.

The three human warriors are speaking among themselves and one glances over as Birgid looks their way. She gives you a glare for a moment and then turns back to her companions speaking in a frustrated tone.

King Zusgut, meanwhile, is clapping along to Zug's song, particularly the cowbell. "Oh, yes, entertainment! That's what this needs! See, goblins always know how to make things better!" The goblin leader points a finger high in the sky. “I know!” he says. “We should have a contest to see who goes! You can read lines from my play.” The surrounding goblins cheer. He squints at the mercenaries. “Since you got here first, you can go first! Show starts in two minutes!” At this news, another cheer goes up from the Crookedtoes goblins and they begin to crowd toward the stage.

Zusgut turns to two of the goblins and hurls a rock at one of them, hitting him on the head. "Raznik, Anzak! Give them scripts! The tribe shall judge their performances!" The two goblins hurry about and then one of them comes to give you a charred scroll with lettering on it.

The play is also on the slides, but the scroll file is easier to read. There are 7 parts. Assign a part to each person and then someone can take Mitzi's extra role. You have time to organize yourselves and strategize if necessary. When everyone has a part, I'll continue on and you'll get to see how well the mercenaries do.

Each person should post their character performing the line and then make a Performance skill check. We will actually go in order listed in the play. This may take a bit in PbP format, but it's worth it. :)

Highwire nods. "Yes, I would willing to offer my services with repairs ... once we have completed our exploration duties with the Pathfinder Society, of course."

Grabbing the script, he looks over his lines.

Is the throne already on the stage, or are we in charge of our own props and set dressing?

After a couple minutes of arguing among themselves and even at the goblin who gave them the script, the trio of humans take positions on stage and attempt the lines. Crookedtoe goblins gather around, many of them up on the balcony.

The balding man isn't horrible, at least putting some gusto into the lines, but the younger man and the woman are terrible in their performance: not funny‑terrible, just plain terrible. They read in a wooden way and mostly just stand on the stage looking uncomfortable, as if reciting lines a teacher has required them to memorize. The goblins are unimpressed and begin throwing bits of rotten fruit and pieces of wood (some of it on fire) at the performers as they boo loudly. The mercenaries leave the stage in a huff.

The goblin with you laughs at the mercenaries' performance and then begins pushing you on to the stage after them. "You turn! Make Anzak look good, ok?"

Zug runs to stage, picks up all the thrown carrots from the stage floor along with some sharp looking wood splinters. Then quickly back to backstage, where he starts assembling the carrots and sticks together.

"Here!" the goblins says, handing Highwire a carrot-assembly, which could look like a crown if one uses enough imagination. "You play Zusgut, yes? Put this in head, you look like king, too!"

And immediately afterwards, Zug storms to loot the backstage - he is sure he saw some face-paint and a wig somewhere.

Zagnut scampers over with the others, down on all fours and ready to assume his role as a dog.

Highwire nods, pulling their cloak back to that the flamboyant hair is revealed. Placing the carrot assembly upon their head, they move out onto the stage in a series of flips and cartwheels, jumping in the air and landing upon the throne dramatically.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

As Highwire sits upon the throne, they takes a dramatic turn, speaking their first line, "I see the great heroes have returned! But who is this with you? Speak, brave knight!"

Performance: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

The goblins cheer when Highwire appears flipping and cartwheeling with the carrot-crown on his head. As he speaks his line, though, the cheers turn to jeers and a few heckles are heard from somewhere in the theatre.

Rather than watching the mercenaries' performance, Birgid is watching the goblins, trying to spot some sign of the unquiet spirits Dreng had warned her about.

Birgid will be trying to see if the goblins seem to charmed or otherwise being given magical/supernatural nudges.

Zug enters the stage with dramatic flair. The goblin, face hastily painted pink and wearing a dark-coloured and extremely old wig, given a small bow to the hollering crowd. He swirls towards Highwire, and approaches the "king" with longshanks-walk of goblin traditions.

"Oh mighty chief of the goblins, whose wit and skill are unsurpassed." he begins - speaking as much to the other goblins as to Highwire. " I am called Ulthun, Watcher-Lord of Lastwall. Alas, that land has been overrun by undead and is no more!"

Performance: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15