"Wait for me--us!" Zarisha calls after the tengu as she follows.
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As most of you run up the hill, following Jig, Baby Huey and Marcus, you turn the corner and find a large furry upright creature and two tiny dinosaurs waiting. The furry one appears happy that you've arrived, though it's not about to invite you for some milk and cookies.
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COMBAT TRACKER
Round: 1
Tactical Map
Active Conditions:
------------------
Those with ** may go
**Jaariko 'Baby Huey' Niqo - AC 18, 15/15
**Marcus Howe - AC 19, 21/21
Brownie
Bluey
Jig Gnasher - AC 18, 15/15
Glorzia
Grammy Thistledown - AC 16 (18 w/shield), 17/17
Lilting Rill - AC 17 (18 w/shield), 18/18
Zarisha al-Sakawi - AC 18 (19 w/buckler), 17/17
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You don't recognize the creature. Apart that it's smelly... and hungry...
The creature roars with pain and surprisingly, speaks common.
"Glorzia knows humans have festival where they eat birds. I see large bird here! Glorzia eat well! ATTACK! GET BIRD!!"
The two tiny dinos, deciding they're more afraid of Glorzia than they are of you, charge. One goes after Marcus, the other at "the bird".
Brownie runs up to Marcus and tries to chomp him.
Bluey heads over the Jaariko and attempts to do the same.
As Bluey clamps down onto Baby Huey's leg, Jaariko feels a burning pain start to travel up the leg.
Max Duration: 4 rds
Stage 1: 1d6 + Enfeebled 1
Stage 2: 1d8 + Enfeebled 1
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COMBAT TRACKER
Round: 1
Tactical Map
Active Conditions:
Before Your Turn:
Marcus - DC 16 Fortitude (pending the readied action results)
Baby Huey - DC 16 Fortitude
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Those with ** may go
Jaariko 'Baby Huey' Niqo - AC 18, 10/15
Marcus Howe - AC 19, 21/21
Brownie
Bluey
**Jig Gnasher - AC 18, 15/15
Glorzia (-7)
Grammy Thistledown - AC 16 (18 w/shield), 17/17
Lilting Rill - AC 17 (18 w/shield), 18/18
Zarisha al-Sakawi - AC 18 (19 w/buckler), 17/17
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Marcus flattens Brownie as it tries to get in close.
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COMBAT TRACKER
Round: 1
Tactical Map
Active Conditions:
Before Your Turn:
Baby Huey - DC 16 Fortitude
------------------
Those with ** may go
Jaariko 'Baby Huey' Niqo - AC 18, 10/15
Marcus Howe - AC 19, 21/21
Bluey
**Jig Gnasher - AC 18, 15/15
Glorzia (-7)
Grammy Thistledown - AC 16 (18 w/shield), 17/17
Lilting Rill - AC 17 (18 w/shield), 18/18
Zarisha al-Sakawi - AC 18 (19 w/buckler), 17/17
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------------------
COMBAT TRACKER
Round: 1
Tactical Map
Active Conditions:
Before Your Turn:
Baby Huey - DC 16 Fortitude
------------------
Those with ** may go
Jaariko 'Baby Huey' Niqo - AC 18, 10/15
Marcus Howe - AC 19, 20/21
Bluey (-1)
**Jig Gnasher - AC 18, 15/15
Glorzia (-8)
Grammy Thistledown - AC 16 (18 w/shield), 17/17
Lilting Rill - AC 17 (18 w/shield), 18/18
Zarisha al-Sakawi - AC 18 (19 w/buckler), 17/17
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Glorzia screeches in pain as Jig's cutlery hits her. She snarls and swings her massive bastard sword at Marcus.
She howls with delight as her sword punches through his armor. She then swings a meaty fist at him.
But in her excitement, she punches the air.
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COMBAT TRACKER
Round: 1-2
Tactical Map
Active Conditions:
Before Your Turn:
Baby Huey - DC 16 Fortitude
------------------
Those with ** may go
-2-
**Jaariko 'Baby Huey' Niqo - AC 18, 10/15
**Marcus Howe - AC 19, 12/21
Bluey (-1)
Jig Gnasher - AC 18, 15/15
Glorzia (-15)
-1-
**Grammy Thistledown - AC 16 (18 w/shield), 17/17
**Lilting Rill - AC 17 (18 w/shield), 18/18
**Zarisha al-Sakawi - AC 18 (19 w/buckler), 17/17
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Marcus stares daggers at Glorzia but she's unfazed. His maul, however, arcs downward and smashes her on the top of her head, splattering Marcus with bits of bone and grey matter, killing her instantly ().
At Glorzia's death, Bluey disengages immediately and hides in a nearby crevice. You also release Babs from the stake but she is terrified.
Zarisha hikes to the top of the hill, around the puddles of gore, and over to the dinosaurs. She tries to calm down the tiny, little predator.
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Lilting ready to start singing a song to inspire everyone gives a slow blink in realization that the fight is over before they even could react. Not a truly unusual thing, but a clear sign that a group fought well.
They instead turn their focus to the agitated dinos instead and start to sing a calming, wordless song for them.
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Zarisha, Grammy and Lilting Rill manage to calm the dinosaurs down and get them to follow you back to Xila's camp. Xila is overjoyed to see Babs and hugs the little dinosaur.
"Oh thank you for recovering little Babs! You have definitely earned your reward!"
Reaching into her pouch, she hands each of you 4gp each.
Seeing Bluey, she adds, "It might take a bit of time to find this dinosaur's pack as we don't know where Glorzia got them. But rest assured, I will do my best to reunite it with its family."
She then invites you to join her as she reunites the baby dinosaurs with their parents. "I'm heading off to reunite the stegasaurus younglings with their family now. Come along!"
You follow Xila to the valley and witness a heartwarming reunion as the stegosaurus younglings are reunited with their parents. As you depart, Xila bids you farewell and wishes you luck on your future adventures.
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Your travels now take you to Isarn, the capital of Galt, outside an inn that caters to travelers. A sign outside originally read "Travelers, Travelers!" but somebody painted "BEWARE" in red, changing the message to "Travelers, Beware: Travelers!" A young halfling, Shance Hattenpock, stands by the entrance, desperately trying to hand some sort of envelope to people entering or exiting the inn.
"You, there! A minute of your time? I can pay—I need your help. Rather, my uncle does. I’m Shance Hattenpock, and my uncle Trinsky is a talented sculptor. Unfortunately, he has fallen victim to the endless political scheming that plagues Galt. Someone framed him for art forgery, casting him into disgrace, no doubt to advance their own station. There’s a salon tonight, at an art gallery of sorts. Many artists will be there, trying to impress Asrennia Vaville, the hostess. I’m certain one of them framed my uncle, but I’ve been uninvited. Will you attend the salon and help expose the truth to restore my uncle’s name?"
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One of the strangest beings you have ever seen comes walking down the dusty road. A torn and filthy space suit covers a mechanical body as it sluffs through the dust. That isn't nearly the strangest part though as a cracked glass dome covers the head like some sort of helmet that is filled to the brim with sloshing water. Several strips of adhesive are attached holding the cracks at the seams in crisscross patterns as a dangerous looking sharp-toothed piranha swims within the helmet.
Th piranha swims around to look behind. "Oh, you mean me?" He listens to the man's plight. A gargled voice emits from a hidden speaker beneath the spacesuit. "Art forgery! Oh my... people being killed in the streets and sold to slavery around the world but this certainly needs dealt with at once." He feigns the urgency of this as he reaches for the envelope. "I will help you." The pirahna smiles wickedly as small bubbles come from its mouth to the surface.
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"Oh my, I rather dislike this Gault place. Such constant war isn't good for the ecology. Oh! What's this? An artist unfairly charged with forgery?" she sighs. "And I thought the worldwound was problematic. There seems to be no end to sillyness these civilizations get to. I wonder if there is even a druidic circle around here."
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Marcus shakes head and sets his maul down on the floor, holding th handle to prop it up. "Why am I not surprised that an innocent man might be framed in Galt?"
The man glares that the halfling for a moment. "But how we really know your uncle is innocent? Can we speak to him? And what's in the envelope?"
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Standing next the building, looking severe and unassailable with a cold wind blowing around her hinting at her distaste for the place, Tibal pauses her brooding at the sight of a piranha speaking from a taped up fish bowl... on legs. "Right, I've seen awakened animals before but never known one that tried to build themselves a body like this. Good grief the future is a strange place."
She watches X-23 get pulled into the calls of the halfling in front of the tavern and approaches with interest, before recognizing a few new faces in the area. "Oh, you again. I take it you're going to be taking this halfling up on his plea? I guess I could help a few familiar faces. I loathe what has happened to this area, especially as a good friend of my was buried near here... About 10 millennia ago, though. But helping a wrongly accused man would be a start at fixing this place, I guess."
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You know that the bored socialites who typically attend these events need little goading to start spilling what they know, but they’re experts at gossiping without specifically calling someone out. Furthermore, it’s a well-known secret that Asrennia Vaville has terrible taste in art, but no one dares tell her, given her influence.
Shance looks at Marcus. "I know my uncle's innocent! I've got your invitations right here for the soiree that Asrennia is holding today. Please say you'll attend and clear my uncle's name!" Shance almost looks like he's about to drop to his knees and beg.
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”Asrennia Vaville? Oh, I’ve heard that name. The knights told me all about her after a recruiting trip to Gault, this was back before Lastwall fell off course. Anyway, beast of a woman or so I hear. Knows nothing about art, but instead of educating herself, she just uses her name and power to slander anyone who speaks up to her. And I hear the hens she surrounds herself with gossip just as much as she does, though they never say WHO they are gossiping about. Disgraceful if you ask me.”
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The estate that Asrennia Vaville has converted from asylum to art gallery is only a 15-minute walk from the inn where you met Shance. The bleak building with barred windows stands in stark contrast to the ostentatious outfits of the several dozen guests making their way into the venue. Asrennia Vaville herself stands at the entrance. With a simple smile or disappointed frown, she indicates who is welcome and who must go, and no one seems willing to defy or question her decisions.
She smiles at you and says, "Newcomers are always welcome at the gallery of Asrennia Vaville. Please, come in, and enjoy the displays. The theme of the night is one of contrast between civilization and nature—you simply must tell me what you think. The next tour is starting shortly. Enjoy your evening."
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Your tour guide is a gnome with flaming hair who appears insulted to be guiding commoners around a museum of sorts. His bulbous nose is upturned, a sure sign that he considers this task beneath him.
"Stay in line. I will not allow group members to go off, especially to the off limits areas. Now then, we shall visit the paintings section first."
This gallery consists of a collection of paintings depicts a variety of forest scenes, most of which include animals or game trails. You see an older man examining the paintings. He loudly lists off how many of each animal he has slain.
An older bureaucrat, Apexi Fulminoir, is here. He longs for his younger, carefree days of hunting on his family’s lands. When asked if he knows anything about Trinsky, Baltaram, or the scandal, he mutters that he’s not concerned with such things, then shows them one of Baltaram’s paintings and asks their opinion: "Baltaram here has made quite a name for himself lately. What do you think of this, hmm?"
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"Look at this, the deer is the same height as this wolf here, but that would only happen if it was a dire wolf, and it clearly isn't . . . there are no spikes. Oh my, and over here, the fox is as tall as this thumbleberry bush, those grow between four to five feet tall! I doubt this artist . . . whoever they are . . . has ever set foot outside a city!"
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Grammy notices that the sizes of the animals aren't realistic, while X-23 and Jig notice that the brush strokes appear to be that of someone else.
Apexi lets out a good belly laugh, briefly drawing attention from those nearby. "You lot are either good or you're asking for trouble from the salon's host. Either way, good luck in whatever you're trying to do."
Your guide looks less than impressed with your findings. "I would caution you about speaking out against Baltaram. He has many influential friends who could make your life difficult here."
He clears his throat and moves you along to the next room, so as not to attract undue attention. He moves you to an outdoor area. This garden of sculptures is made up entirely of animals wearing current fashion trends from various regions around the Inner Sea.
Two women discuss the sculptures in hushed tones, trying to determine what city or nation each piece is from. Upon seeing your group, they look their down their noses at you.
You barely hear whispers of ill-concealed disdain. "Well look what the gnome brings. You think this lot knows anything about art?
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Grammy Thistledown sighs, and then puts on a loud voice so that it can carry over to the two gossipers.
"Did I ever tell you people about all the art and tapestries in Laswall? Oh me oh my, when I was invited there to teach a class on healing I was allowed to peruse some of the art halls. Oh, so sad that it was lost."
She then leans in and whispers to the rest of the team.
"Those two ladies are gossiping about our qualifications about being able to enjoy art? Deary me what snobs."
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The two women stare disdainfully at you. "Lastwall? Never heard of him. Is he a famous artist of the bygone past? Baltaram, on the other hand is the rage these days. But then what do peasants like you know about art?"
More whispers follow, then the pair lead you to a granite sculpture of a squirrel wearing a very fine coat and tie. "Let's see you evaluate this masterpiece. This is one of Baltaram's works, "Magnimar Bushytail"."
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"Hmmmm . . . lessie . . . well at least they got the height of the squirrels right in this one. Pure fantasy of course, everyone knows there are no squirrel species that live anywhere near magnimar, especially not the white-breasted blacktail, which is clearly what this is. Oh, I suppose a druid could have summoned them of course . . . . Or a Squirrel beastmen I suppose? Y'know, in beast form. I knew a Squirrel Beastman squire once. He was in LASTWALL. WHICH IS CLEARLY A CITY THAT STOPPED THE WHISPERING TYRANT FROM TAKING OVER THE CONTINENT FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS."
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Kazimir scoffs. ”That is not art. That is a squirrel, petrified by magic. You can see how the ephemeral harmonics change in proximity to the stone, revealing hidden life. A rather morbid strategy to produce statuary. Given the cost and tie, this was done intentionally rather than relying upon finding victims near a cockatrice nest.”
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[dice=Kazimir's Arcana (T)]1d20+7
Kazimir scoffs. ”That is not art. That is a squirrel, petrified by magic. You can see how the ephemeral harmonics change in proximity to the stone, revealing hidden life. A rather morbid strategy to produce statuary. Given the cost and tie, this was done intentionally rather than relying upon finding victims near a cockatrice nest.”
Grammy suddenly becomes VERY cross
”They did WHAT to a poor, innocent squirrel?!” lightning flashes in her eyes.
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Tibal follows the group and gnome around the displays, not entirely certain what to make of this place and the drastically different art styles from what she grew up with
She pauses in the painting room, curious about the painting everyone clearly claims isn't a 'Baltaram.'
She pauses, "These are brushstrokes one could have found before Earthfall! I highly doubt a properly trained modern artist would be using them intentionally."
She takes her time in the statues room, listening to the whispers on the wind.
She gives a pause and smiles, whispering back along the breezes in the place, "Hrmm, these artists can barely hold a candle to the carvings of Thalassion. The proportions are all off and you can see the chisel marks still."
She then takes a moment to actually examine the statue closer...
"...and then there's this one that is clearly just a petrified squirrel. I guess that explains the sudden leap in craftsmanship."