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The runelord speaks from the heart, with so much real passion he drops his polearm.
Gobo knows this: Pathfindering requires one to trudge through vile cesspools that suck hungrily at one's fine new boots, pull allies out of drowning mires crawling with flies, choke in the sulfurous stink of centuries-old rotten eggs, be tormented by horrific creatures both living and undead, and last but not least be put upon by the rigors of excessive frugality.
It is axiomatic that Pathfindering is terrible for one's health and self-esteem.
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Initiative:
”Hm, maybe working together is better than being alone down in this horrible sewer. Alright, I’ll pack up my stuff…” She pauses for a moment ”What’s that noise?”
As if on cue, two creatures with far too many legs and wicked looking tails scuttle out of the nearby tunnel, looking quite aggressive!
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Success:
Critical Failure:
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Ingmar and Zalmora both react quickly, hitting the scorpion to the left from the relative safety of the walkway. It responds by scuttling quickly forward and lashing out at the nearest creature, Ennillee, with it's venomous tail!
The shifty monk ducks under the blow, however, as she prepares her own assault!
Gobo howls a high-pitched invective: Yes, yes yes! Of COURSE intolerably vile creatures rise from the oleaginous slop to beseige Gobo's noble efforts! Such is the nature of this hideous region named "Blackwood." Witness the power of his cunning mind for Gobo Byzant, Runelord of Pride, is prepared! Gobo spends three actions ranting and waving his polearm about, and a slick of rainbow-tinted grease spreads out before the farther scorpion.
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Ennillee quick movements don't fool the scorpion, but it doesn't matter. her first punch knocks it off balance, leaving it wide open to her second which cracks its carapace and knocks it to the floor, dead!
Gobo, meanwhile, tries to slow down the approach of the other one, warping the terrain around it. The scorpion slips and stumbles a bit as the ground it sees no longer matches the ground it feels, and is significantly slowed in it rushes up next to Alladin .
Branwaen pulls out a hand crossbow, loads it, and fires at the scorpion!
She curses as her bolt goes wide.
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Ingmar decided to go back to one of his favorite tricks agains the scorpion. He raises his hands high as if grabbing something above him, and the ground opens up underneath #2, reaching out to grasp and crush it!
”Take that you cave lobster! We’ll be havin’ ye’ fer dinner!”
Just in case, he draws his clan pistol.
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Zalmora moves for a better shot, takes aim...and then shoots an arrow into the muck beside the scorpion.
Ingmar decides to make the ground do the work for him, trying to cause it to catch the creature in its mucky embrace. The scorpion is too quick, though, and dodges the worst of the damage.
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Gobo trembles with terror as the scorpion approaches, but he says words of encouragement to himself, trying to be brave.
Then he uses his mind to fling a slime-covered rock at the scorpion!
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Alladin inspires his allies, though his telekinetic attack flies wide. Ennillee moves into an advantageous position...then fails to take advantage of it. Gobo is more focused, though, mastering his own fear before beaning the creature with a large rock!
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The quick scorpion dodges the worst of Dewin's electric assault, though it does get jolted a little bit. It turns to face Ennillee as she moves around behind it, lashing out at here with one of its pincers!
It catches the monk squarely, the sharp sides of its talons cutting deep into her as it grabs on! Some of her salty blood splashes onto its wounds, though, causing it to writhe in pain.
It then tries to finish her off with its stinger!
Despite the pain from the salt on its wounds, it manages to sting the captive Ennillee, knocking her unconscious before dropping her to the ground.
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Branwaen looks nervously at the scorpion, then steels her resolve. She draws an elixir and dashes past it next to Ennillee .
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Zalmora takes careful aim and fires an arrow, burying it center-mass on the creature and sending it sprawling back into the muck, dead!
Branwaen quickly feeds the potion in her hand to Ennillee's unconscious form, reviving the undine. She draws out two more and hands them to her as well. "I sure am glad you lot were here. I don't think I could have taken those things on my own. If things like that live down here then I'm definitely ready to leave!"
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Making your way to the surface, Branwaen thanks you once more and prepares to set out. "Thanks again for your help down there. I'm going to make myself scarce before I run into any Pathfinders; no sense in escaping one kind of monster just to run into another. I'll find another way to pay off my debt to the Aspis and then leave the lot of them behind!" With that, she turns to leave the Blackwood for good.
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Back in camp, Valais listens carefully to your tale and thanks you for your hard work. She asks Ennillee to stop by the medical tent to get checked over, to make sure there aren't any lingering effects of scorpion venom. She also tells you there's a group heading to Cassomir tomorrow, off to catch a Pathfinder-chartered ship headed back to Absolom. There are berths reserved for any of you that wish to return, though you're also welcome to stay here as part of the camp.
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'Aspis' is the organization for which the term 'mendacity' was coined. 'Pathfinder' is a byword for 'hardship.' Each is a menace in its own right; therefore, Gobo cannot blame Branwaen. He, too, shall absquatulate the Blackwood region.
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Back at camp Gobo tries to get as clean as he can. He sharpens his fauchard, making sure its blade is razor-sharp and gleams for his next mission. A Runelord must have pride in his weapon!
The next morning he steps out of his tent with several bloody bandages on his fingers, ready to head to Cassomir and board the Mimosa. He stretches in the sunlight and drops the fauchard. It doesn't matter; in a few hours enough he'll be resting in one of the ship's luxury suites. Soon he'll be sipping champagne with the haut monde in the ballroom under a crystal chandelier… for surely, the Pathfinder Society would not have stinted on travel expenses back to Absalom.
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"Thanks, Valais. I think I will see about taking a scenic route back to Absalom. Unless there's a reason for me to hurry I think I'll take a longer route back," Zalmora looks off to the horizon, adjusting her backpack straps. "Maybe I can find some bounty work along the way."
The next morning finds the ranger nowhere near Gobo, the caravan to Cassomir, or any sort of creature comforts. She puts out a treat from a pouch and feeds it to Baxter, and heads north towards the Verduran Forest.
She's going to head home to Nirmathas and pay a visit to her father.
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Dewin fusses over Gobo while Gobo fusses over Gobo — a clean catfolk is a happy catfolk, after all, and Dewin presumes the same to be the same for a Runelord.
Finally satisfied to be dry and out of the sewers, he climbs aboard the Mimosa and inquires as to the cost of such a vessel, with an eye to the future, of course.
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Alladin freshens up his traveling clothes, sniffs his pits, nods approval and starts singing a lighthearted ditty to both pass the time and gets his friends to smile and maybe dance a bit.
Aboard the Mimosa, he keeps the crew's morale high with ribald tales of merfolk and sea shanty songs of grog and pirates. At night he goes through his mental list of guys who know a guy to help him in his inchoate mushroom business venture.
"Until next time, y'all!'
And with that, Alladin walks off into Absalom whistling.