Stormcrow's Return of the Runelords

Game Master stormcrow27

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

After a long day, Thurin was not particularly perceptive, be it with his surroundings or other people.

Sense motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14
perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

woot

In a contemplative mood after his purchase (but of course not use) of his long not used drug, Eric is far more aware of others motives, and of his surroundings, then usual.

If he senses any trouble, he will lift his Lucerne hammer and lean on it, as if he just needed a break.

I mean draw my lucerne hammer and use it like a walking stick, not making aggressive moves with it, but I would like to have it in hand.

Fantasy consumerism for the win!

Results

Morelda: You can also purchase any adventurer's gear, clothing, food or drink item at 10% of the normal price from Ultimate Equipment.

Color me embarrassed; I've interpreted the Circle Market Bargains of 10% of the total cost as being 10% off the base price instead. ;p

Knowing just where exactly in the Circle Market to find the best bargain for a Bandolier, the Young Varisian Wizardess manages to come across a suitable one for the princely sum of just 5 copper pieces instead of the customary 5 silver pieces. -1 sp with 5 cp in change

It was just the perfect holder for not only her acid flask but also for her Prismatic Crystal and enough space to place some cured leather from her spell component pouch so they'd all be within easy reach if it ever became necessary to use them, along with her small utility knife [although it was mainly just for show].

As the day goes on, old Possum Coots starts serving up his "possum " punch nearby the east side of the market, near the old well. Some people start to gather and drink more and more as the day goes on. Near the end of the afternoon, one group seems to be staying together and longer then normal...

All players, please roll Sense Motive and Perception checks.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12.

Having found her much needed piece of equipment at a nice bargain, Morelda's attentiveness and observations are much more improved from before, which is just as well...

Eric, you drawn your lucerne hammer and lean on it.
Koshon, Lorel, Eric, you notice that the 5 individuals currently sipping punch appear to be commiserating the loss of some friends from the earlier battle between two rival gangs, and that they seem to have a crude patch of a mouth with jagged fangs descending from it embroidered on one or another area of clothing.

Morelda, Lorel and Koshon notice another group of potential ruffians coming into town nearby... They don't appear to be armed, but who knows what troubles lurk in the hearts of men and women?

Eric sees Koshon as well as the group of ruffians, walks over to him and whispers 5 horned fangs most likely, by their emblems. Possible source of trouble. Funerals and rememberances can often cause violence in my experience. Situation could erupt if they see one of their enemies. Orders?

He will then follow Koshon along, and support him in his endeavours,
weapon nonchalantly in hand. It is easier to ensure peace with a STR 18 reach weapon behind oneself after all.

I do not have versatile performance yet, so my Diplo, bluff etc. is just +2. It is more likely then not to assist on aid another, but give me a ping if you want assistance.
I do not actually believe I know anyone else in character yet. Hair braiding fun nonwithstanding.

"Dammit." Koshon cursed under his breath. "We need to get these Fangs off the streets."

The gregori braced himself and walked over to the gang members. "Sorry to disturb you, gentlemen from your libations. But I think Order members are coming our way, and I wish to keep the market a peaceful place. Can you please get off the streets as to avoid a ruckus?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Lorel watches with interest, sipping her punch. A fight could be just the thing to lift her spirits.

Eric aids his own voice to Koshons attempts.

Diplomacy aid another: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Signeurs, your adversary is likely looking to capitalize on their unjust victory, I would deem it a sound strategy for you to withdraw for now, avoid engagements that are not in your favor, bide your time and wait for them to become drunk, dumb, cocky and sloppy, which they will quickly, would it not?

Success her puts Koshons roll to a 16

Is anyone else going to make a move?

Grandfather Mossbeard is strangely drawn to the weapons vendors in the square. Strange, because he never needed more than his trusty shillelagh. Perhaps it is the large discount the vendor is offering. He is fairly certain he could purchase one of the weapons and turn it for a quick profit. Regardless, market days are always nice and Mossbeard takes his time perusing, enjoying the crafts and services produced by the townsfolk. He notices what looks like several separate parties converging - recognizing one member among them as a skald who's stories he had enjoyed - but he is not overly concerned. Guards would have a greater presence on market day.

His companion, Stormborn the spinosaur, chases children around the outskirts of the market. As dangerous as the dinosaur looked, as dangerous as he was, he was well behaved. Children shrieked and laughed as they climbed atop the feathered giant, riding him about as he herded other children around the green areas of the square.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Mossbeard shall watch for now.

The gang members with the famg markings seems to pay Erik and Koshon no mind, drinking more and going on about how they'll be biting back soon enough. The other gang of ruffians approaches.
One of them shouts "Hey you, fangless! Get out of town or we Roadkeeprs will show you what true pain looks like! Ya! Time for a bit of the rough and tumble! We brain them and they'll be leaking pretty red all over the road, and then we'll be true Roadkeepers!"

The two sides begins to square off, looking ready to throw a punch, drawing up clubs, mugs, or even easily available heavy chickens as weapons (the chickens squak indignantly at this miscue, but can only scratch or peck ineffectually..)

Thurin stopped and watched the spectacle with interest. How foolish could the surfacers be? It seemed like he was soon to find out…

” Time for a bit of the rough and tumble!” ah, Baldur’s Gate…

Eric considers for a moment, then has an idea.

A, a challenge, of course this must be answered. Turning to the Roadkeeprs he asks them whom of you is your strongest fighter on the long road to glory?
Turning to the fangs And who of you would bare his fangs and stand against him ?

Adressing everyone Brawls happen everytime, but a real duel between 2 champions, under the august eyes of the Port Governeurs office no less he continues, pointing to Koshon would be far more to talk about? And to profitably bet into, I would even offer to heal both fighters afterwards with a cast of my magic

I have cure light wounds, but would rather prefer for Mr. Koshon to make such a diplo check (it should be far easier then convincing them to leave the streets, like, reducing a confrontation between 2 groups of young men to a fistfight between 2 worked for me in real life once). A "Duel" is far more managable then a 5v6 or so brawl.

Lorel readies her sickle. She doesn't have many non-lethal options, but she won't miss out on the fight.

Morelda, Lorel and Koshon notice another group of potential ruffians coming into town nearby... They don't appear to be armed, but who knows what troubles lurk in the hearts of men and women?

Presumably, Morelda wouldn't recognize these ruffians of the Roadkeeprs since she's not a local resident of Roderic's Cove?

Just what is it about this town seems to attract so many youthful ruffians!?

Seeing yet another group of presumed ne'er-do-wells sauntering so cocksure of themselves into the bustling Circle Market, Morelda looks frantically about for some town guards to alert- only to see the somewhat familiar form of the tall Angelic Representative of the Town Council [I've seen him accompanying those other town guards as well as some of the higher-ups in town before; I think Audrahni mentioned something once before about the town having an actual angelic outsider working with the Town elders...], along with a pole-hammer wielding aide-de-camp [Isn't he that person who sang about... pirates a week's back ago? He's actually a member of guards too!?] by the Angel's side, as they both are busily confronting some other gang-members- all of them members of the Fangs, no less.

Gladdened that she opted to not partake of any of the 'possum punch', unlike the last time she was at the Market, the soberly alert Wizardess surreptitiously reaches for the cured leather located in her newly acquired bandolier and starts to do a casting of Mage Armor, accomplished through her bond with her Crystal Bladed Scarf [still in the disguised form of Varisian Dancing Scarves], as she stands discreetly aside off to the distance. Casting Mage Armor via her Weapon Bond as a precautionary measure.

The gregori has a momentary look of amazement at Eric for such a potential good idea, then quickly composes himself.
"Em, yes. Mr. St. Cyr is correct. A Duel between factions will be recognize by the port-governor's office, but only if done away from the Circle Market and down by the docks for more room."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9 [facepalm]

Out of academic interest I guess

Diplomacy aid another: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Well I would have failed too I think :)

As the leader of the Roadkeepers prepares a response, a watery, drowned figure appears of out of nowhere and screams "NO,MY COVE! NO!"

Everyone please roll a Will Save DC 19

Will DC 19: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17 Nope. Close, but nope.

Is it charm or compulsion?

Will save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Not that it would matter

will DC 19: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Will: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

will: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Will save from the watery, drowned thing: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19. +1 to that if there's any charms or compulsions involved.

It's not a charm or compulsion effect. Koshon, Eric, Grandfather Mossbeard, and Lorel, all of you are panicked for 4 rounds. Morelda and Thurin, you're unaffected.

The spectral scream causes the market to break out into panic. Animals and people begin to run away in a frenzied attempt to escape the appalling apparition. It fades away, the water of the bay splashing around the spirit's now absent form.

Ooof panicked for 4? Good thing the spectre is gone, as I am spending 4 turns to run the hell away, and would then need to spend 4 turns to run back.

Covet? Exclaims Eric apparently misunderstanding the apparition
Sacre bleu it covets? But what? Seeing the probably not well coiffeured spectre, a most dire realization dawns upon Erics face.
Qlippoths bugger on my lovelife it craves my HAIR, I must escape it!
as he paniks and hightails away from the apparition at 100 feet per turn.

Having been in some riots, and having had some experience with mobs,
he subconciously choses the possible escape route that has the least people on it. Perhaps the mob also wishes to somewhat avoid him, on grounds of the spectres possible interest in him.

Lorel drops her punch, spilling it in the street. She runs away in the fastest way possible.

As Koshon runs away from the scream, the gregori tries to process what he experienced.
Why am I running? It's just a scream! But I feel like Asmodeus himself is after me?!!

Thurin scratched his head in confusion. Everyone was fleeing from the apparition, but it was already gone. Logically speaking, it couldn’t hurt you if it had already left. Either that or it was an illusion. Either way, there was no danger. What he was curious about was what had caused it. Sadly, he was no wizard, so there wasn’t much he could do on that front. So he looked around to see if any other clear heads remained.

It's not a charm or compulsion effect. Koshon, Eric, Grandfather Mossbeard, and Lorel, all of you are panicked for 4 rounds. Morelda and Thurin, you're unaffected.

The spectral scream causes the market to break out into panic. Animals and people begin to run away in a frenzied attempt to escape the appalling apparition. It fades away, the water of the bay splashing around the spirit's now absent form.

Yay to the dice-gods for sparing team psionics from some untimely running? ;p

Staring in wide-eyed fascination and surprise [plus a tiny smidgen of fright] as the mysterious apparition suddenly departs just as it inexplicably appeared to all within the market, Morelda, after wisely keeping her distance from all of the fleeing throngs of masses, tentatively makes her way to the exact spot that the watery, drowned figure appeared at. Does the seawater remain upon the ground or does it also fade away/disappear just like that figure?

Was it all some kind of illusion? The way everyone next to that figure fled: it wasn't just self-preservation... it was like pure unmitigated fear!

Morella casts Detect Magic, her only spell of analysis memorized, as she magically analyzes the scene of the disturbance.

Know:Arcana: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15. Ruling out any arcane hoaxes.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10. Is the water real or conjured?

Ooof panicked for 4? Good thing the spectre is gone, as I am spending 4 turns to run the hell away, and would then need to spend 4 turns to run back.

Covet? Exclaims Eric apparently misunderstanding the apparition
Sacre bleu it covets? But what? Seeing the probably not well coiffeured spectre, a most dire realization dawns upon Erics face.
Qlippoths bugger on my lovelife it craves my HAIR, I must escape it!
as he paniks and hightails away from the apparition at 100 feet per turn.

Having been in some riots, and having had some experience with mobs,
he subconciously choses the possible escape route that has the least people on it. Perhaps the mob also wishes to somewhat avoid him, on grounds of the spectres possible interest in him.

No, not the ghosts of barbers past!

Thurin scratched his head in confusion. Everyone was fleeing from the apparition, but it was already gone. Logically speaking, it couldn’t hurt you if it had already left. Either that or it was an illusion. Either way, there was no danger. What he was curious about was what had caused it. Sadly, he was no wizard, so there wasn’t much he could do on that front. So he looked around to see if any other clear heads remained.

As Thurin looked around, he didn't see anyone left in the square, man, woman, beast, or even ruffians ready to square off in a dance contest. The watery apparition's scream had cleared out the market, turning it into a chaotic mess. The only person who seemed to have resisted was Morelda.

Lorel drops her punch, spilling it in the street. She runs away in the fastest way possible.

Man and that was some good old homebrew. Well. not really, but you can't be too choosy on your alcohol if you're in a pirate town filled with gangs and ghostly apparitions

As Koshon runs away from the scream, the gregori tries to process what he experienced.

Why am I running? It's just a scream! But I feel like Asmodeus himself is after me?!!

Perhaps it's not Asmodeus, but something from the terrors of the deep, like Dagon...

stormcrow27 wrote:

It's not a charm or compulsion effect. Koshon, Eric, Grandfather Mossbeard, and Lorel, all of you are panicked for 4 rounds. Morelda and Thurin, you're unaffected.

The spectral scream causes the market to break out into panic. Animals and people begin to run away in a frenzied attempt to escape the appalling apparition. It fades away, the water of the bay splashing around the spirit's now absent form.

Yay to the dice-gods for sparing team psionics from some untimely running? ;p

Staring in wide-eyed fascination and surprise [plus a tiny smidgen of fright] as the mysterious apparition suddenly departs just as it inexplicably appeared to all within the market, Morelda, after wisely keeping her distance from all of the fleeing throngs of masses, tentatively makes her way to the exact spot that the watery, drowned figure appeared at. Does the seawater remain upon the ground or does it also fade away/disappear just like that figure?

Was it all some kind of illusion? The way everyone next to that figure fled: it wasn't just self-preservation... it was like pure unmitigated fear!

Morelda casts Detect Magic, her only spell of analysis memorized, as she magically analyzes the scene of the disturbance.

[dice=Know:Arcana]1d20+8. Ruling out any arcane hoaxes.

[dice=Spellcraft]1d20+8. Is the water real or conjured?

Morela detects no magic on the water, so it's definitely sea water from the bay. Whatever that creature was, it wasn't a sustained illusion, or any type of mind affecting magic that Morelda has heard of. Nothing psionic or psychic either.

No, not the ghosts of barbers past!

Mon dieu the greasy rusty scissors, they cut! They come closer! Ruuuuunnnnnn!!!!

Are we skipping 4 rounds to the end of the running?

Are we skipping 4 rounds to the end of the running?

That's the general plan, unless Morelda or Thule plan on running after someone to catch them.

Thurin walked over to the mage. It felt odd to see the streets so empty, making it seem like they were on some sort of stage. The gray dwarf looked up at her and said ”So? What happened here?” He didn’t see any point for idle chatter or polite banter. A waste of time, when one could get right to the point.

Koshon cautiously returns to the Circle Market after walking back from his flight of fright. The gregori notices what appears to be two individuals who stood their ground. A human woman and a druegar?

Constantly checking if his hair is still where it should be, Eric returns as well.

Lorel pulls out her sickle, as she stops running. She walks back to the circle market. She asks "What was that?"

As you gather back together, a familiar figure approaches. It's Audrahni, the elven cementary groundskeeper.

"Hello, Audrahni. Are you alright?" Looking to the others gathered, Koshon adds, "Is everyone alright?"

"Audrahni, it's good to see you." Lorel points where the apparition had been. "one of yours?" she jokes, settling her nerves a little.

Eric, still shaken but now also somewhat angry, mumbles under his breath in a harsh sounding language. Perhaps a perception check to notice.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
Koshon lowers his brow at the approaching Eric. "Was that Abyssal I heard?"

Stormborn angrily gathers up a group of children to protect them from the ghost, hissing and growling in the general direction from which the apparition had appeared...

Eric answers, in Abyssal:

Eric speaks common innately, infernal and abyssal from int 14, Thassilonian from his background trait. Galt is a wild place, constantly switching from great censorship to explosions of knowledge. There was a period in Galts history where the current rulers aimed to pacify and unite Galt against extraplanar foes (reasoning that this is healthier then uniting against supposed internal enemies), in that period, pamphlets and instructions on how to speak Abyssal or Infernal were quite available.