Redelia's Wardens of the Reborn Forge (Inactive)

Game Master Redelia

Welcome; please dot and delete if you have been told you are invited to participate in this game.

A dwarf with a pick and clenching a cigar in his mouth enters the room.

"Hey all Rogar here..."

Please make sure you've followed the directions in the discussion thread. If you have not visited it, you will not get notifications. We won't start until everyone has followed those directions.

You have travelled to Alkenstar, with a request to meet with Eliza Baratella. You rest from your journey, and have a chance for any shopping that is necessary before the meeting.

this is also your chance to introduce your characters to each other, and for prepared casters to choose their spells for the first day.

Heat rippled off the desert sand. An arrowshot afore the walled city stood one of their own. Though he had not lived here for years, this has always been home. Not the apartment in Absalom. That was simply where he took solace from the journey his life had become. Absalom was his occupation. Alkenstar City was his heart. He was not a 'prodigal son'. In fact, he was far from it. His was just one soul born within the defiant city. Now he had finally returned. With a wry smile on his lips, he took a deep breath and allowed the import of this moment to wash over him.

Fendel had thought about his return for years. He left Alkenstar nearly a decade ago. Not deemed a fit enough shot with a rifle, he failed the training to join the guards defending the walls. His instructors said he spent too much time in the lab and library. Well, they were not incorrect. Who knows. Perhaps had he invested more effort on the range he would have earned a place protecting his home. But how would my life be different? I have literally been to Hell and back. Mana-storms seem to pale by comparison.

The recently minted venture captain asked for a brief leave from his duties as a trainer in the Grand Lodge. A journey to return home was long overdue. His time in The Society had kept him busy. While he maintained a steady correspondence with his parents, he had not seen them since the day he failed out of the academy. He was eager to share with them all he had accomplished. So when the messenger handed him a sealed missive sealed with the sigil of the Open Road, his heart sank a little. Ah, such is the life of a venture captain. No surprise they were consistently of foul disposition. Fendel accepts the scroll from the junior agent and sends her on her way. He takes a moment to read the communique, thought the brevity of it provides little information.

This is practically blank. I had thought a new title and responsibility would come with greater access to Society operations. Slightly frustrated, the detective took note of the time. If there is one constant to being a Pathfinder, it's that everything happens with little or no preface or warning.

Some time later, a man clad in dark clothing steps into the appointed meeting room. Hanging from his shoulders is a cloak as black as a moonless night. Along the trim are silver runes of elven script. In opposition to this, the man's chest and torso is wrapped in what appears to be a loose fitting ancient cloth. So old, any color it possessed has long since faded. Hanging low on his back is a well-worn haversack, while a quiver rides higher up, although the man does not seem to carry a bow.

A casual glance is enough for well trained eyes to take in the important aspects of the room. Sensing no threat, he steps into the room and makes a circuit to assure himself. It is only then he finds a place to sit, once again waiting alone for a briefing to start. I really thought I would be giving these now.

Perception: 1d20 + 37 + 1d6 ⇒ (11) + 37 + (4) = 52
Constant See Invisible due to his Spectral Shroud. He also has Trapspotter 10'.

The half-elf enters, wearing a very similar cloak.
Also an Elven Rune-Cloak +2!

He looks around.
Perception-off! Well I can't quite hit your result, but can get close.
Perception: 1d20 + 31 ⇒ (18) + 31 = 49
Not bad for a cross-class skill.

The half-elf wears an eye-and-moon holy symbol around his neck, and wears a mithral breastplate. A rapier and buckler hang at his belt, and a bow on his back.

He nods to the other Pathfinder.
"The night keep you."

He leans against the wall, waiting for the Venture-Captain to begin.

A creature of the desert, Slash enjoys the travel. The heat bothers him not at all. His golden armor, worn under desert robes, reflects random rays of the sun. As a trade prince he cannot help but wonder about the value of trade to this out-of-the-way city as he considers what he knows about Alkenstar.

Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Early as always, he cases the meeting location. Once he is convinced the location is secure he will enter. Green skinned and over 6', he is anything but subtle when not stelthing. Twin great axes cross his back. A black mace hangs at his belt. He is well muscled but light on his feet for an orc his size. jewels adorn his person and he carries an aroma of fine perfume. He enters the building without a noise and, ignoring any seats, takes up a position along the wall. Nodding to those already present he states Trade Prince Slash has joined you.

The tiefling woman arrives next. It is obvious that the heat does not bother her at all, which is not surprising, looking at her horns, a long thin tail and leathery wings folded behind her back (however, seem too small and weak to carry her through the air).

Through the upper part of her forehead there is a thin strip of tattoo in the form of runes, going somewhere under her short dark hair and probably designed to symbolize a kind of halo.

She has with her a large bow and a starknife made of a special strange black metal. Her medium armor shimmers in the sun as if made of mercury and seems to be just as mobile.

Tiefling smiles discreetly but warmly at everyone present, make a slight curtsy as required by etiquette and introduce herself.

Greetings, dear Pathfinders. I am glad to be back in business and I have no doubt that together we will achieve high results in our new task. My name is Arush Al-Fasi. I am a skillful archer and a connoisseur of things related to religion, planes, nobility and customs of different places. I'll be glad to be of service to you.

Her voice sounds soft and pleasant. There is no doubt that she is able to do one more thing that she did not mention - to speak charmingly with all the sense of tact.

A dark red haired dwarf enters chewing on a cigar.

"Rogar here..anyone know anything about Alkenstar?"

He looks for an ashtray to put out the cigar. "Haven't been there myself."

The detective acknowledges everyone as each team member as they arrive. "Greetings and Salutations. I am Fendel Meniska."

He nods in silent approval toward Ranalus' cloak. "Well earned."

Cannot fail the Religion DC
"Ah. I see you venerate the Matron of Eleusys and Dispater's betrothed. Quite remarkable. Should we be afforded the opportunity, I would enjoy having a deeper discussion about her influence."

Trade Prince, huh? I have yet to encounter one who was not over-fond of their abilities. Mayhaps Slash will be exception that proves the rule?

In response to the dwarf's question, "Perhaps not so coincidentally, I grew up here. Besides their well-known contributions to the development and improvement to the firearm, what else would you care to know Rogar?"

The door opens and a muscular man strides in, appearing very human except for the shining golden hair and striking azure eyes. An exquisite glaive is strapped to his back and he wears gleaming silvery mail and breastplate with ornate gold filigree. A finely-crafted morningstar, the blackened iron head appearing as a horned demon howling in pain, swings at his hip.
He holds his arms out in greeting, a wide smile across his face.
"Ahh! My new friends! It is a joyous pleasure to meet you all!"
He says very fervently.
"I am Arcturus, Blessed of Shelyn. It has been quite some time since I've gotten away from the temple for some good old-fashioned adventuring...
So, Alkenstar, eh? Heard it's quite a rough place."

Fendel, I'd love to talk with you about this. I have something to share, especially with a connoisseur of such topics. Arush nods politely.

She herself inspects with interest the whole company and especially the sacred symbols which Arcturus and Ranalus carry with them. It seems that what she sees causes her calm approval (and in the case of a half-elf, even curiosity).

Arcturus feels a sense of unease as he's scrutinized by the tiefling woman. He notices out of the corner of his eye as he stiffly stares forward that she's gazing at the birthmark on the side of his neck.
"Ahh. Haha. I see you've found the little songbird-shaped mark on my neck. Haha."
He chuckles nervously.
"When my parents noticed that mark on my neck the moment I was born, they rushed for a priest of Shelyn to have a look. The priest declared I was surely a Chosen of Shelyn, and luckily for my sister and poor parents, who were barely making a living at the time, we were rushed to the Temple of Shelyn where we were all able to live a wonderful life being cared for by the temple. My parents became acolytes and I was able to grow up at their side while also studying and learning the tenets of The Eternal Rose."
Arcturus then turns to the tiefling woman and rubs the back of his head, still nervous.
"I, uhh, never met a tiefling before."
Sensing her well being and honest approach, Arcturus offers a warm smile as he sticks his hand out in greeting.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, friend. I look forward to adventuring at your side."
He then looks at the others present, in turn, with a sincere smile.
"All of you, as well. Let's take good care of each other and be careful, shall we?"

Slash looks amused. Mhhh. We all experience the gods differently I suppose. Oh, sure, they are great when you are doing what they want. I find them fickle and with their own agendas that are not always in line with my own. And there are so many it seems that no matter your action, it will be in opposition to at least one god. Best not to draw their attention to you I say. But I am about team-work. I'll have your backs. All of you.

What a wonderful story you have, Arcturus! The Eternal Rose is truly a charming deity. And those ideals on which Shelyn stands... Someone may not put them in the first place in importance, but deny the beauty of the world and life? It's very strange and suspicious, isn't it? - she smiles affably. My story is not so rosy. In some ways, even the opposite, since they got rid of me as a child marked with the dark seal of daemons. The shame of the family and so on... She looks at the floor for a few seconds, then smiles again. However, nothing new. Only the chosen ones go to adventurers, or those who have crippled their psyche in childhood. Everyone else is sitting in normal places, building houses, having a family and children and living a social life. She's laughing more merrily now. And we... we protect them.

She turns her head to the half-orc.

Oh, Trade Prince Slash! Don't worry, it doesn't matter if the Gods are leading us or our ambitions, it's important that we are very experienced agents of Society and each of us has proven our effectiveness more than once. You can rely on us despite all this talk about the Gods.

"Yes, there is a place in the world for beauty," Ranalus says, with a hint of wistfulness.

Ranalus notes Arush's curiosity, and Slash's cynicism.

"There are some gods who look out for outcasts, exiles, and those who have been betrayed. And who make few demands on them.
All that Count Ranalc asks of me is that I take revenge on those who betray me. This I do.
In the meantime, the Society pays well, and takes in many who have no home in other societies."

Fendel follows the conversation. "I have to say, Trade Prince, that my views and outlook very much paralleled your own. I thought that the gods used the souls of mortals as little more than pawns or poker chips in the games they play. I had no interest in becoming such fodder. Then The Society sent me to Hell to liberate the Paracountess. The suffering I witnessed. The torment. It is too infinite to describe. All I realized was that my sense of deific bravado was shattered. To protect my eternal soul, I understood that disdain for gods would provide little in the way of protection or succor. I agree that they all have their own agendas. Even so, I now find the lack of such a patron too great a risk to consider going without."

Arriving in Alkenstar, you go to the Brass Guild to meet with Minister Eliza Baratella. She greets you warmly, apologizing that she provided so little information in her summons to you. She describes how in recent months, the city’s Brass Guardians (made by the Brass Guild) have been going haywire and attacking Alkenstarians without provocation. She requests your aid in figuring out why, before the Council no longer trusts the Guardians to protect the city.

“Whoever’s behind this plot is powerful—likely someone in the government who sees me or my creations as a threat. But I can’t go around flinging accusations of sabotage and treason without evidence, nor do I know if I can trust the authorities here to investigate. You, on the other hand, are neutral parties. I’ve got a good sense of where you can start looking. When the first Brass Guardians started raging in the streets, we looked closely at their serial numbers to determine where they’d come from. In every case, the clockworks had originally been positioned in the city’s western quarters, closest to the Karggat Hills. I sent Arvanor, my assistant, to follow a series of tracks left by a guardian leaving the city’s western gates. Those tracks led north and west into the Karggat Hills, and into a mine some fifty miles away. Arvanor reported back that he was headed into the mines to investigate further, and no one has heard from him since. That was two months ago. And since then, the Brass Guardians’ attacks have only increased in
frequency and intensity. I have secured transportation for you on the guild’s private airship, under the pretense that you are trapsmiths we’ve hired to help protect our facilities in Martel. You won’t go to Martel, however; instead, the pilot has been instructed to take you directly to the Karggat Mine. Please find out who’s behind this sabotage of the Brass Guardians and bring me evidence to put an end to the plot. The guild and I have significant resources with which to reward you, and time is of the essence.”

"Greetings, Minister Eliza Baratella."
Arcturus says with a respectful nod.
"Wouldn't an airship be easily noticed from the ground as we approach the mines?"

Any info from my knowledge local roll in my first post?

Slash listens to the request in full before first offering Perhaps I can lend credence to your trapsmith tale Minister. I am a fair hand with such tasks. and then asking about the Karggat Hills. These hills, what can you tell us of the area? What, if any, are the known threats? Is magic known to be normal there?

He will also ask Forgive me my ignorance of such matters but how are these guardians controlled in the first place? Is it possible to take control of someone else's construct thought magic or some other means? Can I assume that you found noting physically out of place when you examined those that had to be taken out of service? And who stands to benefit most from the loss of credibility to your guild? Do you have competition?

Greetings, Minister. *A graceful curtsy.*

I would like to join my colleague Slash's question and expand it a bit. What are Brass Guards in general, how do they work, how are they created, and so on? This is beyond my competence. Thank you

"Also, are there any guardians missing? Is there a way to safely deactivate a guardian short of destroying it? When destroyed, do they have some final protection? I have recently interacted with golems that detonate upon receiving catastrophic damage."

"Also, can you describe Arvanor? Are there any passwords we should be aware of to prove our bonefides to him and that we are working on your behalf?"

"The guardians are sent out with a set of programming. It is possible someone has found a way to replace this programming. We think the guardians are all accounted for, either still working or having gone rogue in a public way. They do not have a safety mechanism as you describe. There should be no one around the mines, so no concerns about being seen there. You need not worry about recognizing or being recognized by Arvanor, it is all provided for. As for if magic will work, there is no predicting such things around here."

"In terms of who stands to gain, there is a faction who thinks we should be using human guardians rather than mechanical ones. I cannot think of anyone else who would have any interest in sabotaging the guardians in any way."

[ooc]You may assume you are aware of all the information found here.

I can see how precarious your position is. I believe my colleagues and I should depart as soon as practical to sooner right this matter. Other than transportation, what aid can you offer us in our pursuit of your desire? Perhaps the loan of a construct or at least some firearms? If we are caught in a zone of no magic having firearms available could be the difference between success and failure.

It is unclear to me if we have been sent here on official Pathfinder business or if we are more serving as mercs accepting a contract.?

"What would we need firearms for?" Ranalus scoffs. "A bow is better unless you are a true expert with guns."

Faster rate of fire, no misfires, and lets you use Strength. I see no advantage for a non-Gunslinger using a gun unless they are very weak.

"When does this airship leave, and how long is the journey?"

This is gun land. No telling what they might have to loan... Besides if he cannot offer us assistance on the mission that will lead into my request for a reward for completing the mission. Slash is a trade prince after all. What he might ask for and how depends on my question above. If we were sent to help by the society that is quite different than if we were hired to take on a difficult and dangerous mission.

Rogar puffs on his cigar.

"Airship? I bet gnomes built it!"

The society has sent you here. This is not actually written as a PFS adventure, so there are some gaps. Looking back, I failed to smooth this over enough...

"We do not make weapons here, so unfortunately can't be of help to you."

Then a construct or two? Slash asks with a smile. Surely you will invest something in our success. Any unused resources will, of course, be returned.

Then a construct or two? Slash asks with a smile. Surely you will invest something in our success. Any unused resources will, of course, be returned.

"The Society sent us knowing we could handle this," Ranalus remarks irritably. "If you doubt your abilities then you shouldn't have come."

"This haggling and begging is pointless. We will be fine. Let's get on with the job and stop asking for 'investment'."

Note - Ranalus doesn't even have a Day Job. So it's fair to say he has a very different perspective than Slash. Slash, I assume, finds haggling to be part of the fun.

"These brass guardians you mention, Minister..."
Arcturus inquires.
"They are clockwork, correct? Unlike golems that are more magical in construction rather than mechanical. Would you happen to know what kinds of weaknesses these guardians have? Are they resistant to magic like golems and are they actually made out of brass?"

I have not asked for payment Ramalus, only an investment in the mission success beyond the transportation already offered. I find your interference in my contribution to be unprofessional. My request is both reasonable and a good gauge of the Minister's actual desire for success. His investment provides me critical information about him and his desire for our success. If he cares about our success and has the resources to help why would he not help?

I am happy to discuss any of this away from the Minister. But it seems you wish to to do in front of the minister. Makes me sad. Slash has not haggled at all. Look up that definition please. In no way has he suggested he will not go on this mission. And he certainly not begged for anything. To suggest so is intentionally insulting. Anything loaned will be returned. Slash will not profit at all. Sigh.

Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Fair payment for socially useful work, as well as reasonable investments in order to increase this public benefit, is the basis of a civilized society. I don't see anything inconvenient about the Trade Prince's questions. Please continue.

I'm a Knight of Coin after all!

Arush spreads her hands in a conciliatory manner.

We are all very different here and only mutual respect will help us achieve success in this task. Do you remember? Explore. Report. Cooperate!

Ranalus looks at Arush.
"When the Society has sent me to help someone, I have never asked for an additional 'investment' of those I was sent to help.
Never.
I have asked for their information about the situation at hand, and that is it. This behavior is entirely at odds with my experience in the Society and I find it unreasonable and unbecoming.
I also don't want any of their potentially malfunctioning constructs to accompany us. Why would we expect that to increase our chances of success?

But as you and Slash both wish to do this thing, carry on. I will wait."

Rogar turns to Ranalus.

"Let's look at the constructs before we go? If they're OK maybe we can take one if Slash wants? Assuming there's room!"

"Why would you ask me, Rogar? Do you want me to get on board with the idea and say I agree with it? I think it unnecessary, inappropriate, and gauche to even make the request, even setting aside their functional status.
And I would see the hypothetical loan of a construct as more of an obligation or burden than an asset. Flesh and bone I can heal, but trying to keep an expensive machine intact is more difficult."
There is Make Whole, with its very long casting time, of course, if I absolutely had to prepare some.
"Perhaps everyone else has had different experiences in the Society and thinks this is appropriate."
He shrugs.
"Have it your way. Do what you want. I don't agree with this course of action but it is not my decision and it seems everyone else wants to do this."

Arush will only shake her head in frustration.

"It's a pity that some people don't have the sense to understand that we shouldn't put our differences on public display. Lack of wisdom or ethics? And this is an experienced agent. I'll have to keep an eye on him so he doesn't do anything thoughtless. Perhaps, however, he is not so bad. I shouldn't give in to the first impression. Do I not know how deceptive it can be? O my Queen, give me the strength not to judge people down, to be more humble and to do more with myself."

Out loud, Arush will say the following in a calm, even tone. I think that if Slash's proposal finds approval, then we can just vote as a group of equals. If he does not find it, then there is no point in arguing. She clearly expects that this will put an end to the discussion.

The minister turns a glare on Slash. "The Society told me they were providing qualified agents who would be able to solve the problem," she says icily.

Thurning away from Slash, she tells the rest of the team, "The Guardians are indeed mechanical rather than magical, like a golem would be. You can see one of them here," she points to what she was working on when you entered. She has a partially disassembles brass guardian spread around the room.

I think that is all the questions, but it's possible a valid question got lost in the mess of Slash's request; if so, please remind me.

Arcturus' eyes glance back and forth at all the bickering.
"I, uhh... I just want to go on this adventure and kick some evil butt."

"Just wondering when we leave," says Ranalus.

"Yes. When do we leave? The longer we dilly-dally, those behind this plot have more time to continue with their evil machinations."

After looking at the disassembled guardian to satisfy your curiousity, you easily find your airship. It's an uneventful 8 hour flight.

if you choose to chat with the crew, you may make a diplomacy check to get some information. If not, please tell me what you do on the trip.

Ranalus will seem to keep to himself on the airship, walking around quietly, but in fact he is keeping a close eye on the crew and other passengers.

He is alert for anyone who seems to be observing the party, following them, or trying to track their patterns of movement.

It is possible, after all, that the saboteurs have someone on board.

As he does this, Arcturus's words echo in his head.
I wonder if we are truly up against 'evildoers'. It could just be people who are scared of machines supplanting the living races... or at least taking their jobs... if they are motivated by fear of the future rather than by malice, there may be a way to negotiate a peace.

Still, whether they are evildoers or just misguided and fearful, he isn't about to let conspirators harm the party.

Perception: 1d20 + 31 ⇒ (7) + 31 = 38
If that would instead be a Sense Motive, it is only +14 for a 21.

Arush will communicate with the ship's crew. Collect opinions about the Guardians and just local rumors that somehow relate to the topic.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (5) + 22 = 27

Slash is interested in how the ship operates and wants to learn what he can about how it flys. He will mostly stay out of the way but will try to chip in and help out in areas where his help might be welcome or at least allowed. He is not spying but would like to know what do to if suddenly there was an additional need of crew.

He will try to engage any idle crew in friendly conversation and will eventually ask about the operation of the ship in general terms. If anything seems to be protected information he will not go there.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

After looking at the disassembled guardian to satisfy your curiousity...

Is there a skill check Arcturus can attempt as he looks over the pieces?

-------------------------

Arcturus looks up in awe at the imposing airship before him. He turns to his companions with a look of fear in his eyes.
"Woah. Wait a sec... This thing goes how high?”
He learns the truth.
"Ohhh, no, no, no. I'm not getting on that thing."
Reluctant to go aboard, and speaking his mind quite coarsely before boarding the airship, he's eventually coaxed aboard by his companions.

-------------------------

After a long night and a good (bad?) part of a day of airship-sickness and eventually understanding that the things down far below are not tiny ants on a different world, Arcturus is a bit more at ease with being aboard.
With an outgoing personality, yet struggling with a bit of motion sickness, he tries his best to mingle with the crew.

He cautiously approaches a toothless old ship veteran with an eye patch and a peg leg holding a battered fishing pole over the rail. The line reaches down barely a few feet below the other side of the rail. The wine cork bobber on the line swings in the strong wind as the airship soars above the clouds. Arcturus notices there is no hook on the end of the line, the end just whipping in the wind.
"Uhh. Greetings, friend."
Arcturus says with a friendly smile.

The old salt squints with his one good eye at Arcturus.
"Whoo-hoo! Well met, stranger! T'is a good day fer fishin'! Come, boy, grab yerself a pole an' join me!”
He points to a broken mop handle laying on the deck nearby.
With a shrug, Arcturus grabs the mop handle and takes a seat next to the old man.

"Cast that line out good, boy! Ya wanna get it wayyy out there!"

Arcturus acts as though he's casting the line out with all the strength in his arm.

"Whoo-hoo! Atta boy! Nows we jus' sit 'n' wait fer the fish ta bite."
The old man stares out into the clouds.

After a few moments of silence, Arcturus turns to the old man.
"Uhh... What are we trying to catch?"

The old man leans in and squints with a crooked grin.
"What're you tryin' to catch, boy?"
He emphasizes his words with a pointed finger in Arcturus' chest then turns to look into the empty expanse with a grin.

Several minutes of silence pass as Arcturus thinks long and hard about that question.

Realizing the old man is clearly off his rocker, Arcturus actually has a pleasant time conversing with him. With fishing poles held over the rail, the old man tells stories of the "good ol' days" with the Chelish navy and Arcturus tells his stories about growing up in the temple. They pass the time enjoying each other's company while fishing in the bright open sky. Arcturus listens closely for any useful tid-bits of information.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28

Given the nature of the mission, Fendel was impatient to depart. He does stay alert, looking to see if anyone does take any interest in their team or destination.

Perception: 1d20 + 37 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 37 + (6) = 48

Another skyship? Well, it should be interesting to see how one on Golarian operates. With keen eyes, he watches the crew as they go about their job. Never know if we might have to step in like last time. After having to pilot something like this the 'Red Planet' of Akiton, I want to make certain I am prepared.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 15 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 15 + (4) = 22 (+9 to Gather Information)

Ranulus can be a bit relieved when he sees that only your party and the crew are on the airship. He does not see anything suspicious from the crew.

Those of you who chat with the crew find out that the Karggat Mine—your destination—was barricaded shut years ago, and
their reopening coincides with an unusual spree of
earthquakes in the region.

The pilot and engineer find it odd that you are going there—under false flight plans, no less- but give no objections or warnings of being untrustworthy.

Rogar looks around the ship for anything odd.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

"Everyone ready?"