GM Silbeg 1-11 Flames of Rebellion [CLOSED] (Inactive)

Game Master Silbeg

To my illustrious associates,

I hope this missive finds you in good health. Recent news from out of the River Kingdoms has made the Society aware of important histories that may have been resting directly under our noses for the past several centuries. One of the founding Pathfinders, a woman named Kerinha Napsunar, whose exploits in the Chronicles have often had curious gaps and omissions, appears to have once had a temporary lodge in or near what is today the town of Sauerton. I implore you to travel there and speak to the locals. See if you can track down any documents or records of Napsunar’s time in the area or the purpose of her lodge.

You should find an ally in Sauerton in the form of the town’s mayor, Thalia Andares. Several years ago, the Society assisted Thalia in navigating a difficult situation with her father, and she has remained a trusted and reliable ally ever since. Her knowledge of the town and its families should quicken your investigations immensely.

If you discover that the lodge still stands or any of its contents have been preserved, please do your best to obtain any documents or possessions of the Society that remain. Once you have obtained whatever evidence there is to obtain, please report back to me hear in Almas.

Yours most sincerely,
Venture-Captain Brackett

You begin the adventure in Sauerton during the late morning, after a long trek north from the Andoran coast.

Grams looks around, wiping her brow, as she arrives in Sauerton.

"Well, isn't this a lovely little town," she observes to no one in particular. "Now, where is the mayor..."

An older dwarf, she clinks as she moves thanks to the chain mail she's wearing. A shield -- adorned with the image of a rune-carved hearth -- is strapped to her back, and a battleaxe sits on her hip next to her clan dagger. She smiles, deepening the laugh lines around her eyes and sets out again with determination. A

An old Mwangi woman in rags and a tattered shawl, a yellow-beaked magpie on her shoulder, passes through the marketplace on Sauerton, hawking bottles of her true Saurton Red.

"Come taste liberty in a bottle!" she cries in her husky voice. Admonishing all takers that the vinegar-like aftertaste is part of the appeal, darling. What are you, from Geb?

When she spies another granny approaching on her turf, she is initially threated, but then upon realizing this other granny must be a fellow pathfinder, she ditches her act, literally, behind some abandoned vegetable crates. Then, fixing his hair, Farzin Maaravi steps out to introduce himself.

"Hello, did you also receive the missive from the Captain Brackett? So much lost history with these forgotten lodges. Nothing we can't uncover though. Diplomacy is my middle name. Shall we walk together?"

"Boss, the wine!" squawks Papayo the magpie.

Farzin tisks dismissively. "It really was just vinegar, you silly bird."

"I'm so convincing," he says to Grams with a smile.

A quiet voice speaks from right behind Farzin. "Are you other Pathfinders?" The owner of the voice is a young halfling man, who seems to keep himself in the shadows of others. He wears green and brown clothing that looks like it would blend well into undergrowth, though fingerless gloves knit from pink yarn poke out of the end of his long sleeves. He fidgets with a lock as he speaks, picking it open and relocking it continuously. "I'm Nat. Oh, wait a sec, here." He pulls out a wayfinder and shows it to Farzin and Grams to prove his identity.

A figure approaches; she's draped in fine black clothing from head to toe. Her face is covered with a neutral actor's mask; her hair is tucked under a black velvet escoffion that's shaped like horns.

Thecla almost passes as human… but she is too tall. Her form is too thin and long — stretched. When she moves, it seems as if her arms and legs have four joints, and when she turns you notice she has two sets of hips. She carries an elegant steel shield and a whip. In her gloved hand, she cradles a corked Saurton red.

The voice behind the mask is measured with an actor's cadence; Thecla's diction is always a little rounded, belying her original Chelaxian heritage.

Hello, my beautiful scalliwings! She flashes a fashionable Wayfinder. Have you seen a grandmother about? She's selling this abysmal wine… distilled ciofeca, is what it is. She waves the bottle with disdain.

Even for a Hobgoblin, Kralgang's pale ash-blue skin is unusual and unnerving, as if somehow frozen between the realms of life and death. He approaches the group.

"I presume you are the pathfinders I have been asked to assist. I will do my best to protect and aid you all, as is my sworn duty. May our mission be successful, and know that, if any of you should fall, die easy in the knowledge that Pharasma will judge you fairly in her Boneyard. I will do everything I can to ease your passage."

Farzin looks at the quiet halfling as though he’s never seen anyone wear pink and green together. But his attention is quickly snatched away by Thecla and her escoffion. Even Kralgang’s arrival barely registers.

Collecting himself he says, ”Yes, that old woman. She seemed quite destitute. You’re such a dear to buy her wares.”

”Vinegar, boss!” squawks Papayo.

”Indeed,” Farzin smiles at Thecla, but mostly at her escoffion. ”Lets get you a proper drink to wash that awful taste away.”

”And hello you, and everyone else,” Farzin says to Kralgang and Nat, as if noticing them for the first time.

Thecla's mask tuns to Kralgang. How delightfully macabre!

Boh! She waves off Farzin's compliment, but seems pleased by it. In any case, I shall treasure this bottle as a keepsake of my time in Saurerton. I have enemies to poison, after all.

She cranes her very long neck at Papayo. The fine threads of gold woven into in her escoffion glimmer. Aren't you a lovely specimen. What was that about vinegar, my dear?

The town of Sauerton is primarily comprised of row upon row of neatly kept vineyards, interspersed with old stone villas built in the Chelaxian style. Each plot of grapevines is accompanied by vats for crushing grapes and extruding their juice, along with a large warehouse for storing and
aging the wine. The vineyards bustle with the busy hands of numerous workers, though the packed dirt and cobblestone roads have few other travelers during these industrious hours.

You, the Pathfinders, are gathered in the street, hopefully not making too much of a row. What would you like to do?

I believe this Thalia Andares is an ally of the society. Shall we?

I vote we talk to the mayor.

"Agreed."

Also agreed!

You ask for directions from some of the nearby people working the vineyards. The people of Sauerton are open and friendly, happy to pause for a moment, remove their soil-stained gloves, and offer a vigorous handshake. When you ask about Thalia Andares, the townsfolk cheerfully direct you to a large villa they refer to as “the old Sauer estate”.

As the you follow the townsfolk’s directions you make it to the old Sauer estate. The estate itself has clearly been rebuilt recently, and the vineyards around it are sparse and covered with fresh loam and soil.

“Hey there, strangers!” The call comes from a human woman in her mid-thirties with long, dark hair and an open, friendly face. “You must be the Pathfinders Brackett told me to expect. I’ve done a little digging on your behalf but haven’t turned up much yet. Why don’t you all join me on the veranda for a glass of wine while we talk about your mission here?”

See slide #3 for Thalia's picture

Thalia leads the you to the veranda and pours them each a glass of wine, moving on to the next person if they politely refuse. Once everyone has been served the wine (a sour red whose best quality seems to be that there’s a plentiful supply of it), Thalia takes a seat on a chaise lounge.

"So, what can I do to help you?"

"We require information from the locals. What is the best way of extracting the information we need? I sometimes am received as frightening to those who are not well travelled, so I wish to avoid causing offence or alarming the locals. I should also ask if there are any locals who are closer than the other villagers to receiving their appointment with the Lady of Bones? Perhaps someone who is particularly long-lived and knowledgeable?"

Kralgang will make the location of the old Sauer Estate the subject of his first investigation.

"Now, now, dear, let's not scare anyone," Grams gently chides Kralgang. "You attract more flies, as they saying goes, with honey instead of vinegar,"

She casts a quick glance at Farzin, hoping he'll get the message as well, and perhaps learn a lesson. If he were one of her grandchildren, he could be sure she'd have had something stronger to say. Her glance strays back to Kralgang.

I do hope he doesn't say anything about what else might attract flies, considering his attention to Pharasma...

Finally, she turns her attention back to Thalia.

"Thank you for the wine. As Kralgang here said, any advice you can give us to help find the old lodge -- or anything that might have come fromt it -- would be appreciated."

"Um," Nat says, taking a tentative sip of the wine, then a bigger one once he realizes his aunt Lirabelle isn't here to scold him. "Also, the names anyone you can think of that might know about the lodge."

Farzin smiles and politely declines the wine.

"Vinegar," squawks Papayo.

Farzin's smile broadens.

"Wonderful view here. Any idea where the lodge was located?"

Thecla steeples her finders and listens. She politely declines the wine.

“Frankly, I do not know terribly much. The Strickmund winery was built long before I was born, but from what I was able to find in old records about Sauerton, the land the lodge was built on was bought by Ven Strickmund’s great-great-grandfather about 100 years ago. Apparently Ven’s ancestor was a Pathfinder, so he might be able to tell you more. Be patient, though; Ven likes to talk and takes his time getting to the point. Particularly when he’s interrupted before he finishes his thought.”

"Very well. We will speak to Ven and see what we can learn."

Kralgang makes Ven's ancestor the subject of his second investigation.

Thecla agrees. Off we go!

Farzin smiles broadly.

"I believe we've all dealt with this kind of person, the type who does go on. I think we can navigate such conversations. Leave it to us."

"Just so that you know, Ven is one of Sauerton’s oldest living residents, and a passable vintner. If anyone in town can tell you anything about what the Pathfinders were doing on that land back when they still owned it, Ven will be the one.” says Thalia.

After you head out, you easily make your way to the winery.

A winery rests on the hilltop ahead, surrounded by fields with neatly ordered rows upon rows of grape vines and trellises. The winery is built of dark, well-polished wood, the steps leading to the front door grooved with the passage of many feet.

Ven Strickmund sits in an old wooden rocking chair in the shade provided by the covered deck that serves as the front porch of his winery. The old human man bears a long, gray beard, and his teeth are stained a light magenta color from years of “tasting” the wine he and his family produce. When he sees the PCs, Ven raises one hand in a vigorous wave and calls out to them, “Well, ’ello there friends! Welcome t’ Sauerton! Thalia let me know ye were comin’. Grab a chair and sit a spell!”

I have already had too much Sauerton vintage today, and am beginning to feel a little ill. We would be delighted to hear the truncated version of your forebear's life and times in the Pathfinder Society.

"Too much Sauerton Red? Never heard of a thing! Why, in my day, we'd wake up with a glass, warmed by the hearth. Drink it all day while workin' in the fields. Nothin' better to keep a man healthy and hearty!" He pulls out his jug and tops off his mug, offering it to the rest of you. “We’ve been making passable wine here since before it was a proper town

"Warm 'un, though, ain't it. Reckon we'll be gettin' a storm in a coupla hours, though."

"Oh, well, if it's passable wine then sure, I'll have a taste," says Farzin, much to Papayo's surprise.

"How can you tell a storm is coming?" he adds.

Thecla shoots Farzin an icy glare when he takes the wine and starts talking to Ven about the weather.

I thought he said he KNEW how to DEAL with this kind of person!

She gathers herself, hoping to follow someone's — anyone's — lead in getting the old man talking… be it by hook or crook.

"Um, thanks for the wine, sir. It's, um, very passable, as you say. Um, speaking of things from long ago, sir, do you know anything about an old Pathfinder lodge that used to be here?"

"Ah, you look to be my own age," Grams says with a wink at the old man, taking the offered mug of wine, though takes only a few sips. It wouldn't do to be getting drunk this early in the morning, and she keeps an eye on Farzin to make sure they young man realizes that himself. "Surely you have some tales you can tell us about what things used to be like."

"Please tell us about your ancestor who was a Pathfinder, and the location of the old Pathfinder lodge, as this charming young man has requested."

That is as charming as an 8 charisma gets you.

“Well, round ’bout a hunnerd years or so ago, my pappy’s pappy’s pappy’s pappy bought this here land from a feller from the Pathfinder Society. Got a great deal too, on account of how he was a Pathfinder hisself. My pappy’s pappy’s pappy’s pappy that is, of course the fella sellin’ the land was a Pathfinder as well. Anyways, this wasn’t a great place for a lodge at the time; too much a goin’ on, too many folks riled up about Pathfinders. Your group hasn’t always had the best reputation in all parts, though yer allus welcome ’round here. Where was I?

"Right, right, the old lodge. It was a big t’do at the time, on account of the money from the sale of this here estate being used to buy the deed to Diggen’s Rest, an ol’ keep ’bout a hunnerd miles east o’ here. Folks ’round these parts know the stories ’bout the battles and such fought ’round there back during the empire days, an’ suppose’dly there was e’en a ghost or some such. Pathfinders at the time figgered it was a proper place to move their books an’ such. Ghosts tend to keep the vis’ters away, y’know? Funny thing is, I don’t know as that Pathfinder ever came back through here. Maybe they’s still out at Diggen’s Rest, maybe they went somewhere else? Yer best bet’s probably to go look for yerself. I kin mark it on a map fer ya, or close ’nough, and I’m sure you can get supplies fer the hike here in town.”

Ypou will be heading off to Diggen's Rest, which is a 100 mile trip from Sauerton.
Make any purchases you will need to make the trip. Assuming you all have a speed of 25, you can make 20 mile per day.

Farzin, upon hearing the trip will be 100 miles, asks for another glass of wine.

I think I'm go to go!

"Before we move on, I would like to hear more about this pappy's pappy's pappy's pappy. And about the weather."

Kralgang is inwardly pleased with his own efforts to build a rapport with this mortal imbecile.

Thecla tumbles to the grass and languishes while everyone makes small talk. She gets out her moleskin notebook and pens thoughtful and detailed recipes for revenge food on the road.

Have 2 weeks' rations.

Nat checks his pack, checking his supplies for the road. When he spots a small bag of dried fruit with a note from his aunt, he smiles, then repacks his bag. Have 2 weeks of rations.

Grams smiles broadly, pleased at the need to go explore yet more of the world. She wouldn't have traded her life with her family for anything but it's exciting to see beyond the Five Kings Mountains.

"If there are ghosts there," she says with a slight shiver -- of fear, or maybe it was excitement -- "is anyone used to fighting them? I wonder if we should see if we can get any holy water."

Also have 2 weeks of rations. If possible, I'll buy a vial of holy water for 3 gp.

"One blessing of my burden as a Duskwalker is that I have been gifted natural talents as a Ghost Hunter. I have yet to face such a creature, but I am capable of defeating one should the need arise."

"Before we move on, I would like to hear more about this pappy's pappy's pappy's pappy. And about the weather."

Once Kralgang starts up the conversation, it goes on through the afternoon and into the night. Ven Strickmund, when he notices the time, invites you to stay the night, and serves a hearty stew (which definitely has plenty of Sauerton Red in it!).

In the morning, after a hearty bowl of porridge flavored by leftover stew, you head off.

The first couple of days are uneventful...

Over the course of the evening a pouting Thecla completes a draft of her new play, Waiting To Go. In it, two characters wait inside a wine-colored void, engaging in a variety of pointless discussions while awaiting the time to go. Of course, it never arrives.

Such drivel is sure to frustrate and confound the peanut gallery but may be adored by the critics. And the talkative old farmer character lives in a trash can, which makes her smile.

Grams offers to help prepare dinner, pleased with the invitation to stay, and happily chops up carrots and anything else needed.

She looks around as they settle down to dinner. "Nat, make sure you eat all of those vegetables. They'll help you grow big and strong, dear."

"Yes, ma'am" Nat says, taking a bite of carrot as he palms a large chunk of rutabaga and slips it under the table.

Despite the elven communities and dangerous forest‑dwelling predators that call the forest home, the route to Diggen’s Rest is strangely free of travelers and beasts. Thecla and Fazrzin feel increasingly uneasy the deeper they travel into the forest along the marked route, and the most sensitive among them begin to have nightmares of a blood‑drenched battlefield and the screams of the dying.

The densely packed woodlands give way to a sprawling pasture. Rising out from the grass and moss covering the ground, the ancient, rusted hilts of old swords stand out in silent testament to some long‑past conflict.

As you cross the field, several of the late warrior stand up to do battle once more, their heads aflame.
See slide #3 and #4

Burnin’ Hunks of Love!!
Lazarus is/are up.
Universal Adjustments:
Buffs/Adjustments: 


Round to progress 2021-08-03 1700 CDT (UTC-5)

Nat moves over next to the tree line, drawing his sling and letting a stone fly at the nearest skeleton before reloading. ◆ Stride, ◆ Quick Draw sling and Strike, ◆ Reload.

Sling vs. flat-footed Blue: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Bludgeoning: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Sneak: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Nat's sling bullet fails to hit blue.

The red skeleton moves up and then removes his skull, throwing it at Kralgang!
screaming skull vs AC20: 1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 10 - 2 = 11

Its screaming then becomes a Demoralize against everyone within 10' of Kralgang, as its skull bounces around!

intimidate vs Kralgang: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
intimidate vs Farzin: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
intimidate vs Thecla: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
intimidate vs Grams: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26 Crit for frightened 2!

That ain't right!
Kralgant, Farzin, Grams(frightened 2) is/are up.
Universal Adjustments:
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Round to progress 2021-08-05 1700 CDT (UTC-5)

Kralgang will whisper a prayer to Pharasma for a path to victory against these foul beasts.

Devise a Stratagem: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Free attempt to Recall Knowledge due to Known Weaknesses

Undead Lore: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25

Kralgang will share what he knows and then move to the treeline and take cover.

Kralgang realizes these are flaming skull skeletal champions. That realization sends a shiver down his spine, as he realizes that while these are indeed mindless undead, they act with a remnant of the intelligence they had in life. Typical of skeletons, you will want to use bludgeoning weapons on them, but you've also seen that they can throw their skulls, which would strike with slashing teeth and fire.

You can see that they are wielding shield and sword, and long lances are laying on the ground near the three that haven't moved.

Grams bites back a shriek of fear as the skull screams. She's heard of the walking dead, but she never imagined they would be like this.

She pulls her shield from her back and raises it to buy herself time as she pulls the vial of holy water that she's glad she thought ahead to buy.

Free action: shiver in fear
Action 1: Interact to draw shield
Action 2: Raise shield
Action 3: Interact to draw holy water
Free action: shiver in a little less fear

Farzin moves in and, with his mind, sends some rocks flying at the Red skeleton.

Telekinetic Projectile: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Damage: 2d6 + 4 ⇒ (4, 4) + 4 = 12

Grams buys herself some time, while Farzin attacks with his spell. He hits, doing some damage to the skeleton!

Grey moves up next to Kralgang and slashes with its longsword! It misses the hobgoblin!
longsword vs AC20: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

Blue then moves up next to Farzin, and also attacks with its longsword. This one critically hits the witch! It then raises its shield.
longsword vs AC18: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28 slashing: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5 10 after crit

Burnin’ Hunks of Love!!
Thecla is/are up.
Universal Adjustments:
Buffs/Adjustments: 


Round to progress 2021-08-08 1700 CDT (UTC-5)