GM Tyranius (PF2) Bounty #6 The Road from Otari (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

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Collecting acorns on the roadside - the roadside from Otari - a tiny humanoid-shaped fey with minuscule mothen wings shakes them absent-mindedly, dusting the patch of highway around him with gentle ash, struggling a little to hold more than two at a time in an attempt to balance a third atop the two held in each arm...

...cursing in Sylvan frustratedly as it drops it's load for the 1d12 ⇒ 10th time, it kneels to touch the ground with it's diminutive hands, causing a faint green glow to suffuse it's body, as the three acorns begin to lift into the air under no visible force besides the verdant glow, but only temporarily again, for the creature sneezes, snuffing the luminescence, and spilling it's intended load once more into three different directions...

Blub.

The Isle of Kortos is best known as the location of Absalom, the City at the Center of the World, but many people live and work in numerous towns and hamlets dotting the island. One of these is Otari, a fishing village of about 1,200 people located roughly 75 miles west of Absalom.

You find yourselves in Otari, making yourselves known as capable explorers and able-troubleshooters. In the common area of this town you find a new scroll posting.

Intrepid Travelers Wanted!

Please inquire at Gallentine Deliveries for an urgent delivery that must set out for Absalom posthaste. Reasonable terms, payment upon delivery.

—Oloria Gallentine

Short like every halfling but thinner than most, Peri lifts himself up on his toes to read the scroll. His gray eyes shift back and forth. "Delivery to Absalom? Apple jumping! I'm heading that way, anyhow, and I could use more coin once I get there." He looks up and down the street. "Gallentine Deliveries? I suppose if I walk around enough, I'll find it."

From a Crook's Nook comes a dwarf. He licks his finger after eating tremendous seafood and he moves like he would be dancing to unhearable music. His hair and beard are of vivid red colors. He sees a thin small figure in front of the message board. And he approaches

"Dreaming of becoming an adventurer, kid?" he takes a look at the clothing and face and quickly understands his error

"Oh, please accept my apologies, I took you for one of those rascals, I swear on Ashava, one of them had hair of your color. However, your outfit should be a hint already."

He reads the scroll

"Rawiri, an ex-sailor, following the waves of life, but mostly on land now. Are you considering volunteering for the job? Never been to Absalom, maybe I shall join you. "

"Nice to meet you!" Peri replies to the dwarf with a grin, apparently unruffled at being mistaken for a child. He grabs the dwarf's hand, shakes it vigorously and lets it go before the dwarf has much chance to register that his hand has been shaken. "But volunteering? No. My kerchief is nearly empty. I'll be applying to work for pay."

Squish looks more like a set of oddly connected sacks of lumpy flesh than a person, but nonetheless they speak with surprising grace despite lack of an obvious mouth and a slight bubbling sound.

"Ahh, more Pathfinders. Since I was making my way to Abasalom, the chance to earn a few coins with some companions is a rare treat." lightly bubbles Squish.

Rawiri looks at Squish and stops for a moment and few times opens and closes his mouth

"Are you... all right? You look like you were hit by a maul, in the face. Have you seen some medic or maybe herbalist?" he asks concerned

"Ahh, more Pathfinders. Since I was making my way to Abasalom, the chance to earn a few coins with some companions is a rare treat." lightly bubbles Squish.

"Pathfinders?" inquires a cloaked figure. "Tell me, breathing persons--and... blob? If you are Pathfinders, do you happen to know the witch that once held this and if there happens to be any cure for a curse that she may or may not have placed upon one of the undead?" The creature known as Nangu reaches into his cloak and produces a dirty, stained wayfinder.

A sudden shift in the wind, blows back the cloak, revealing a man with pale, sickly skin, pocked with bright red, sun-burned blotches. Prominent fangs protrude from behind his lips.

Catching a scent on the sudden breeze, Nangu moves quickly to cover his face. "Ack! What is that offensive odor?! Is that what fish smell like?! Having to catch my breath after long times of walking is bad enough, but to have to smell things too?! It is too much!"

Peri arches an eyebrow as the anthropomorphic flesh sacs and the nosferatu approach the notice board. "Ah," the halfling stammers a moment, finally caught off guard, before he rallies. "I'm not a Pathfinder yet, but I was on my way to see if they'd have me. I hear they take all sorts. So where are you from?" He looks back and forth between the two most unusual potential delivery persons.

A kobold steps up to the group, wondering what might be so interesting at the message board. He's just stepped from the Fishery, after hearing tales of the place from a fellow Pathfinder. Worming his way under the tall folk, he reads the scroll tacked onto the board.

"A job! Some coins would be nice to round out my downtime after my last mission! And it's on my way back home, too!"

Seeing the others gathered around, he extends a scaly hand in greeting.

"Well met, friends! I am called Mik-Mek! I am named for a legendary descendant of the dragon from the Soothscale clan! Shall we go and see what Oloria Gallentine wants us to bring to Absalom?"

...leaving the roadside in frustration, the tiny sprite's arbitrary wanderings bring it before the sight of a halfling, dwarf, ooze, dhampir, and kobold all curiously gathered in conversation around two sticks lashed together and fastened with a needle-shaped spring of worked ore to some thin tree skin stained with the oil of a fatty sea creature arranged into strange glyphs.

It wanders closer, but warily, hesitant to expose itself before this strange party, taking cover behind a nearby 1d6 ⇒ 5...

Hide (Stealth, Trained) vs Perception DCs 14, 15, 14, 16, 16: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

...careful not to make a peep!

It’s easy to find Gallentine Deliveries and to ask Oloria about the job. Seeing a whole group of you walk in causes her to perk up. "Ah, you must be here for the job. An aristocrat from Absalom, Kulrin Hulfheen, was in Otari last week for some sport fishing. He netted a large, rare trevally and arranged to have it mounted and shipped back to his manor in Absalom." She pauses for a moment grabbing ou a clean and crisp missive. "Here's the problem, I just received this missive from Master Hulfheen. Seems he wants his shipment expedited and is willing to pay an exorbitant fee (4 GP) to get it to him in three days time. I want to keep business going with him and am willing to let you keep all of he fee if you can head out right away."

She walks around her counter and points to the map. "Here's where it gets tricky. The walk to Absalom is three days away." She grimaces at the slower speed of the sprite flitting about the room. "Not only are my usual couriers out, but they have all of my horses!" Oloria already has the trophy safely packed into a wooden box with leather carrying straps sitting on the counter waiting to go.

Rawiri seems to have seen a small bird, maybe a hummingbird behind the statue of a gnome, but he couldn't see anything later on.

They went to the Gallentine Deliveries and hear about the mission the dwarf sights

"You expect us to carry that fish to Absalom? Those are the reasonable terms? Do you have some 2 wheel cart that we could use? "

He wonders for a moment

"I am less concerned of bandits and strange creatures that crawls from the flightless places underground, and more about the weight of this thing."

Says a bit concerned...

"In the tavern, I heard some odd stories about a lycanthrope that allegedly could be living somewhere near here..."

"An aristocrat like this Kulrin Hulfheen wouldn’t likely travel as far as Otari if it were dangerous," notes Nangu, imparting knowledge be gained over his long life. "Certainly, any monsters or bandits that we may encounter are likely timid or weak."

"The need for food and sleep makes the living weak and easy fodder," he adds. He looks down as his stomach. "Which reminds me, do any of you have anything I could eat?""

Mik-Mek agrees with Nangu, "Of course, anything we will meet on the road is weak. How can they defeat us? I am descended from dragons! I have my bloodline on our side!"

"Let us take this Kulrin Hulfheen's fish to Absalom!"

Mik-Mek turns to Peri, "Of course the Pathfinders will have you! When we get to Absalom, I will put in a good word for you. I'm from there and I can get you into the Lodge."

Basically Mik-Mek is a bit too caught up in his own greatness for his own good...

Squish gurgles "Yes, many dangerous things between here and there. Bandits less likely to attack a strong group like ourselves. Let us perhaps consider making haste so as to not endanger the deadline?"

"Thank you! I would appreciate that," Peri says to Mik-Mek. "I've never met a kobold. Are there many kobolds in Absalom? Oh, but I'm getting distracted."

He eyes the box and estimates its heft. "If there isn't a cart--Oh, so distracted, my name is Peri--then, yes, we had best set out! I'm certain that we can handle a few bandits or hungry beasts from under the rocks."

Oloria grows a bit red. "'Fraid my normal couriers have everything checked out at the moment. You are going to have to carry it."

Who is taking the parcel?

Curiouser and curiouser!

Maruta shadows the party to their destination, watching as they approach the counter behind cover of a 1d6 ⇒ 2...

Hide (Stealth, Trained) vs Perception DCs 14, 15, 14, 16, 16: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

When the curious parcel is produced, he reveals himself (to be not a hummingbird)! Walking over to it and struggling to lift it - He can carry 2 Bulk...

Rawiri grabs the box. Roughly 2.5 Bulk that he can carry before getting encoumbered

"Is that fish alive? Should we feed it? Change its water or something?"

A question, how big is the fish and can it be used as an improvised club? Asking for a friend ;)

"Ha! That would be an impressive feat of magic!" Peri laughs. "She said it's mounted." He tries to gauge the box's heft.

4.5 bulk before encumbered here.

Mik-Mek looks at the box. He's slightly intimidated as it's almost as big as he is.

2.5-ish bulk before being encumbered

Peri laughs. "She said it's mounted." He tries to gauge the box's heft.

"Mounted? So, it is a living fish riding atop of some other animal then?" inquires Nangu, having had no prior experience with trophy fish.

3 bulk before becoming encumbered.

"Thank you! I would appreciate that," Peri says to Mik-Mek. "I've never met a kobold. Are there many kobolds in Absalom? Oh, but I'm getting distracted."

"Oh yes! There's a clan that lives in the sewers of Absalom. They're the Sewer Dragons. They will know who I am because I was one of those Pathfinders who helped them!"

Mik-Mek's first scenario was 2-5 Balancing the Scales

Rawiri relieves the sprite of the box, who unstresses somewhat.

He looks down and assesses his own size and land speed, in light of Oloria's earlier comments, and decides that in spite of being smaller and slower, that he is, in fact, just right.

Rawiri straps the box onto his back as his mind ponders breaking the mounted fish before it even arrives.

I would recommend probably not using the mounted fish as a weapon :)

Just as you leave to begin your trek you are greeted at the edge of town. “Greetings, friends!” Tamily Tanderveil hops forward on a wooden leg decorated with blue ribbons and painted waves. “You’re on your way to Hulfheen Manor, I hear, and I wonder if I could add a small bit to your load?” She produces a small wrapped parcel that smells sharply of brine. “Kulrin Hulfheen enjoyed our local delicacy of pickled fish eggs. Please take these to him in gratitude for his business—and maybe it’ll lure his business back to town!” Tamily produces a larger satchel bulging with breads, cheeses, and fish. “I wouldn’t expect you to do so for free, of course, so I took the liberty of packing some provisions for you. Consider it my good-luck gift for safe travels to Absalom.”

Who is now carrying the pungent eggs? :)

You all begin with 1 Hero Point

Mik-Mek accepts the pungent eggs and carefully stows the package in his backpack.

"Food! Here, here. Let me carry the provisions," Peri says. "I wouldn't want anyone to be overburdened. Here, I'll take the pickled fish eggs, too. Did you pack any in these provisions? Just curious."

A short time later, knowing how Nangu feels about fishy smells, he tries to slip the briny parcel into the twice-cursed's pocket. "So... who cursed you how, now? And they left a wayfinder behind?" He stumbles over a rise in the ground and bumps into Nangu. "Oh! Sorry!"

Thievery (reverse steal(T)) vs. DC16: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Cross-posted with Mik-Mek

"You can carry our food, Peri" Mik-mek says with a toothy grin.

Maruta watches as the two "large" creatures seem to fight over who gets to carry the primordial ooze that once had the potential to grow into a living being but now seems to have been preserved from natural rot by some strange process or tincture.

He continues to tag along.

"Blub."

Squish nods, glad to have that worked out and eager to get on the road.

Now I understand what the mounted fish is :D Sorry my English vocabulary with regards to fishing is limited to bait, fish and spearfishing ;)

Rawiri is glad that he does not have to carry the package in his arms. And waves to Tamily when he sees her. "Oh, provisions will be very important."

He turns to the side and spots flying small being "Eh, where did you come from? Are you one of those underground creature? Where did you come from? And more importantly what is your name?"

Rawiri turns around to look how the package behave if he moves more dynamically than walking down the road.

Unsure at first if the dwarf is referring to him or somewhich else, our tiny sprite hero dodges sideways after the first question, watching to see if the dwarf's attention follows correspondingly, in time to levy the second. He opens his mouth to answer either the first or second question, but is suddenly bombarded with a third and fourth!

"He is Maruta" the voice is surprisingly deep and low, as if projecting from some unknown depth in it's unfathomable one-foot stature; indicating the subject "he" by pointing a thin nailless finger at himself, he ponders the meaning of "underground" in use here. "It had him curious, so many refractions of light displaying the spectrum of mortality, it moves five as one, and as such, needed protection, as things do, when living creatures, as a prism or a single ray, travel upon any path, propagating themselves into wood unforeseen, not known, obscured: Today, he is also Six!" although the creature himself seems content with such an explanation, if it weren't for his habit of pointing at whom he was talking about, exactly which conjugation of subject, verb, and object was being made might be totally lost! Fortunately, when the sprite said "it" he pointed to Rawiri (and sometimes to the rest of the group), and when the sprite said "he", once again, he pointed to himself.

Now that they are "friends", Maruta walks unusually close to the dwarf - just under his feet in fact! - sharing his square as they travel on the Road from Otari - and whether or not his movements be tame or dynamic!

"Oh! Is that a faerie?" Peri asks.

A short time later, knowing how Nangu feels about fishy smells, he tries to slip the briny parcel into the twice-cursed's pocket. "So... who cursed you how, now? And they left a wayfinder behind?" He stumbles over a rise in the ground and bumps into Nangu. "Oh! Sorry!"

"A witch put this wretched curse on me! I mean, look at me!" shouts Nangu, pulling back his cloak to reveal a once strong figure, now appearing pallid, sickly, and rather gaunt. "Do you think I want to be like this? Ever since she cursed me, I have experienced the most awful things! Fatigue. Pain. Hunger. My feet stink. My body sweats. My nose picks up the most awful odors—many of which, it turns out, are coming from me. I suppose I did go without a bath for 12 hundred years. The forces of the Whispering Tyrant never made bathing a priority."

"In any event, my fingernails are now growing. My hair’s now growing, much of it in unwanted places. If I don’t find some way to undo this curse, I am going to die---someday! And, I am beginning to fear that, unlike the last time, I probably won’t even still be around after that! I have to find some way to undo this curse!”

“On a, er, purely unrelated note--just out of curiosity--what are your opinions towards the undead?" he inquires, perhaps not as discreetly as he intended. “It is negative? In that case, then, I am and have only ever been just a regular human-type person.”

Nangu follows the others quietly, for now, wondering when he got a stone in his boot and lamenting that he cannot travel as a bat.

Rawiri is carrying the fish and Peri is carrying the pungent eggs.

Tamily seems quite ecstatic that you are willing to help him out. You set out on the trail at once, not wanting to waste another minute. Rawiri passes the time as he finally notices the sprite and begins to get to know him.

Just before sundown on their first day of travel, you enter a boggy area of the road and spot some traders in need of help. Just left of the road, a heavily laden wagon lies sideways in deep mud. The muck is churned and crisscrossed with layers of muddy sticks. Two dejected-looking halflings sit at the edge of the mud pit, stoking a campfire.

"Friends! Got yourselves in a frog wallow?" Peri shouts, hopping out of the shadows along the road when he spies the fallen wagon. "How can we help you? Besides the obvious need of righting your wagon, of course."

With strange confidence, the sprite strides right up to the wagon - leaving the dwarf's company for a moment - and, stepping into the mud, thrusts his hands into it, causing some roots to crawl out and begin to wrap themselves around the wagon wheels, slowly lifting the wagon upward...

Tanglefoot

...but only a millimeter or so as it slumps easily back into the mud ineffectually... he returns to the company of the dwarf. This would be easily possible back home.

Mik-Mek walks up to the halflings. "Well met, travelers! What can we do for you?"

Rawiri is walking frequently changin his strides, rythm, and direction of walking. He seems like he is dancing on easier parts of the route and he observes with interest how well Maruta is doing.

"Now I get it, five as one, was us. And you are the sixth one! Ha!" says the dwarf, obviously taking his time to understand cyphers within messages.

He stops for an instant and looks at the wagon and halflings

"Ha, I see you working on a campfire, but I hear no music! Why so serious friend?" he smiles broadly

"You would get further if the set that cart uptight." Nangu observes to the halflingd, pointing to the cart on its side. He continues walking, until he notices the others stopping to talk. He reaches for his blade. "So, we plan to pillage them, then?"

"Pillage? Even the Ulfen raiders would help travelers in need," Peri shakes his head bewilderedly. "My goodness this is an odd catch of fish."

Squish nods to Peri, seemingly unaware of the irony.

How well can Maruta keep up with Rawiri? (Acrobatics): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Able to naturally keep pace with the dwarf, perhaps what is truly queer is that the other four in the party walk (roll?) merely in straight lines!

Unable to effect the cart, he walks over to Nangu, and touches his blade point-first, pricking his own finger, and puzzling the dhampir with a queried look.

The halfling brothers eagerly greeting you as you make yourselves known. "I'm Kambit and this here is Miro. Strangest thing happened. We were taking our wagon of spices over to Otari's Market when we got blinded by a bright light. The donkey stumbled in the mud and next thing we know it is dying in the much there leaving us stranded." Looking down at the donkey it is clear that some wide-mouthed creature took a large chunk out of it.

They motioned to the makeshift ramp of sticks. "We have been trying to get out of here for some time now, but no luck. Noone else passing by has been willing to help all day." Kambit looks a bit scared. "I just worry that whatever creature that was is still out there somewhere."

"Oh. That's nine worms in one apple! I'm sorry," Peri says. "Let's see if we can't get your wagon righted. Who's going to help and who's going to keep an eye out for whatever ate the donkey?"

Squish nods and takes a look at the donkey, heavy lifing work clearly being out of their wheelhouse.

"Very well, I will help with the wagon, but then I am going to finish the rest of the donkey." concedes Nangu.

Athletics to right the wagon?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24