GM Qstor PFS #0-28 Lyrics of Extinction FULL (Inactive)

Game Master Qstor

I've got this... Rallas says as he cracks his knuckles and sets about disarming the traps.

DD: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (14) + 29 = 43
DD2: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (17) + 29 = 46

Granny chuckles slightly at the repeat visitor.

She pulls out another chunk of ration bar and offers it.

It is Kahwen's turn to be impressed.

"Quite adept, Friend Rallas. I don't think I've ever seen such a creative and effective solution to dealing with pit traps. It seems we all have things to learn on this expedition. I only hope I can demonstrate some knowledge that will help everyone," he says.

Ahh you're just being nice...I'm sure you could do it just as well as i can. Truth be told, my gloves help a bit. They're enchanted...and have all the tools I need for the job...better than fishing stuff out of a pouch by far...

Kahwen bends close to examine the gloves, his head tilting quickly from side to side and turning to see them from different angles.

"Really? I've got my really good thieves' tools but I'm always looking for new things that will help."

RetCon

How did you die?

After Tyruwat sang the Song of Extinction, he unceremoniously dumped our remains here, after torturing us in wicked rituals in the name of Zon-Kuthon
What is past the hall behind the hidden door?

The shaman and his guards.

What do you know about dangerous music, such as the Song of Extinction?

It is a hymm to the Midnight Lord

- - -

The parrot munches on the seeds and flies away from Granny.

Rallas easily disables the pit traps and the Pathfinders see the hallway leads to another wooden door.

"I think I've seen some of those back at the lodge," says Granny, brushing her shoulder clean. "The ones I saw weren't any better than some magical goggles."

"Apparently someone named 'Tyruwat' sang the Song of Extinction, tortured these guys to death, then dumped them here. They say there are guards ahead, as well as some shaman. The Song itself is dedicated to Zon-Kuthon... like the collars those Howlers outside had."

The glowing pebble extinguishes, as Granny transfers the spell to a small golden lump orbiting her head.

to clarify the guy tortured the people they died then he dumped them here

what slide are we on? me confused...

Hey Jory...if you're running low on arrows, let me know...I have a pile of them..as well as a back up bow in here... Rallas says as he pats his enchanted quiver. He then heads down to the door and listens for any activity on the other side.

perc noise: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (14) + 21 = 35
perc door traps: 1d20 + 21 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 21 + 3 = 30

"Sounds like this Tyruwat fella's our target. I figger if we bop 'em in the kisser fast, he won't be singin' no death song at us." Trokkus follows along behind Rallas, glad there's a skilled scout in the group.

"I'm sure Klaus would be more than happy to scout ahead and have a peek, too, even going through any walls or doors before we open them."
Inga suggests.

"No problem."
Klaus says with a nod, adding,
"Inga can also make me invisible. I can get a good look at what's ahead. Inga is able to see, hear, and smell through my senses while separated."

Jory politely declines the offer of more arrows. ”Right behind you guys.”

what slide are we on? me confused...

Hey Jory...if you're running low on arrows, let me know...I have a pile of them..as well as a back up bow in here... Rallas says as he pats his enchanted quiver. He then heads down to the door and listens for any activity on the other side.

my bad slide 2

Rallas hears mumbling in Elven, talk of people in the hallway but no traps on the door.

assuming you're opening it

The entrance hall to the cathedral is devoid of any furnishings,
and dimly lit by candles mounted on the wall near the door.
Across the room is a wooden door that bars the way into the
inner sanctum.

Inside are three wild elves with bows in their hands they're reaching for arrows.

"The work of the Midnight Lord must go on! We will not face the unbridled wrath of Tyruwat! Leave now or die!" one shouts in Common.

Perception (Granny): 1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 12 + 2 = 28
Perception (Natharanak): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

"Oh, come now." Granny says, moving up slightly. "Why not wait and talk a while? Maybe let us get those manacles off?"

"As for Tyruwat's wrath... well, he doesn't reach everywhere, does he?"

Granny speaks calmly but confidently, briefly calling on a guiding spirit for inspiration.
Static inspiration roll: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Adjust Attitude v1: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (7) + 29 = 36
Adjust Attitude v2: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (19) + 29 = 48

"Sounds like this Tyruwat fella's our target. I figger if we bop 'em in the kisser fast, he won't be singin' no death song at us." Trokkus follows along behind Rallas, glad there's a skilled scout in the group.

"Or cut his throat," Kahwen casually agrees.

He's reaching for his sword to demonstrate on these elven guards when Granny begins talking to him.

Out of respect for his elder, he makes a small bow and waits to see how they answer before deciding if he's going to slice them open.

Trokkus wrote:

"Sounds like this Tyruwat fella's our target. I figger if we bop 'em in the kisser fast, he won't be singin' no death song at us." Trokkus follows along behind Rallas, glad there's a skilled scout in the group.

"Or cut his throat," Kahwen casually agrees.

He's reaching for his sword to demonstrate on these elven guards when Granny begins talking to him.

Out of respect for his elder, he makes a small bow and waits to see how they answer before deciding if he's going to slice them open.

"Will you project us tengu elder and warrior?" one says as they all move their hands away from their quivers and move their arms to their sides.

"I have blunt arrows, but are these evil elves? If so, maybe we hurt em bad!!"
Then, when they move hands away, Jory raises his right hand to show he is not ready to fire.

Not the time for that, Jory... Rallas says, sotto voce.

Yes..we can. Help us and we will let you return to your people.... the elf says as he puts his hands at his side, mirroring the jungle elves, knowing he can outdraw them if necessary.

"Of course we will. Would you mind if we came closer? It's a little hard to get the manacles off from here, you know." She smiles disarmingly at them.

"We are Pathfinders. We protect everyone who needs it," Kahwen chimes in. As soon as it becomes apparent that they aren't going to attack and that they are chained up, he moves towards them, slowly drawing out his thieves' tools so they don't mistake them for weapons.

He'll get to work on the first ones manacles.

Disable Device: 1d20 + 17 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 17 + 2 = 39

Hearing a "click" and "thunk" as manacles are removed and drop to the floor, Inga raises an eyebrow in astonishment at Kahwen's lock-picking skills.

When Kahwen glances about and eventually makes eye contact with Inga, she smiles and mouths "Nice job."

Inga, Klaus, and the entourage move into the room to assist where needed.
Smörboll seems wary of the elves, even placing himself between Inga and Klaus as they enter, with his axe firmly gripped.
"Ye nev' know, milady."
He grumbles with a scrunched face.

Klaus, with Junia on his shoulders, rolls his eyes, slightly annoyed with Smörboll's protectiveness.

Jeeves quickly reorganizes some items in the wagon.
"There's plenty of room in here for those manacles if you want to keep them."
He says proudly, standing erect like a soldier and giving a salute.

"Well protect you in any way necessary."
Inga states with her hands on her hips, giving a nod to Kahwen.

"It's nice to meet some friendly folk around here."
She says in a pleasant tone to the elves.

Jory honestly says:
"Even elves, I have spare sandwiches."

Jory reluctantly offers the elves some of his sandwiches.

Trokkus gives what he thinks is a warm smile, but probably looks fearsome given his broken tusk and scarred face. "Talkin' sure beats fightin'--less bruises, at least. You folks know sumpin' 'bout this extinction song? On accounta we gotta stop it."

With the offer of aid the elves lower their weapons and stow their arrows.

"Thank you. For removing our shackles. The man awaits alone in the temple singing the evil hymm to the Midnight Lord."

The elves wait for the Pathfinders to take off their shackles.

- - -

The Pathfinders remove the chains from the elves then turn as they hear flapping, as the parrot returns and lands on Trokkus.

"Rah...more seeds!"

"No, thank you for deciding to make a change. That can be hard, I know. Did you want to go with us to the city when we leave, or were you going to find your way back to wherever you were stolen from?"

That bird. Just like a child... if mom says no, better ask dad.

Trokkus looks momentarily startled when the parrot lands on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm not a pirate, ya know! Folks'll laugh. And I ain't got no seeds. So, uh, better scram fella."

Hmm...no seeds...but got some chunks of elven trail loaf that the bird can chew on... Rallas says as he fishes through his pack and grabs a wrapped loaf of bread and tears a chunk off and offers it to the bird.

From his perch on Granny's shoulder, Natharanak turns his head, focusing one eye on Trokkus.

Kahwen gives one of his now familiar bows in response to Inga's silent praise.

After the second set of shackles comes off, he moves more quickly with the third, having been wary about an attack still.

"I used to be a pirate," he comments to Trokkus. "And I have a ship so I guess I could be a pirate again...although, being a pirate is mean. Unless you're pirating mean people then, it's sort of nice?"

His head cocks thoughtfully to the side before he rapidly shakes it and his whole body.

"Is this the door he's behind?" he asks the elves, going to the only one he can see that they didn't enter through.

Perception (for traps): 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (15) + 17 = 32

Perception (to hear what's on the other side): 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (16) + 17 = 33

Disable Device (for traps or locks): 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (19) + 17 = 36

Disable Device for locks if there were traps: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (16) + 17 = 33

The tengun finds no traps.

I'm assuming you're going in?

The inner cathedral is a large chamber lit by brightly glowing
torches lining the walls. A long rug leads up to a treasure chest
sitting against the back wall. Above the chest stands a defaced
statue of a tall Mwangi man carrying a staff. Eight altars form
a circle at the back of the room.

A sick thin man stands next to a statue.

A song of music plays from a music box.

"The Midnight Lord will not be stopped."

slide 2 feel free to arrange yourselves near the door

The man starts casting a spell

combat pathfinders are up

"We gotta take this guy out fast!" shouts Trokkus. "Boots, don't fail me now!" Once again, tiny wings appear around the half-orc's ankles and he lifts awkwardly into the air and starts to fly (looking uncomfortable and cursing under his breath the whole time).

Standard action to activate winged boots for the second time today, and a move action to fly forward 60'. (Trokkus bought these boots after a debacle of a PFS Special, when everyone else was in the air fighting a dragon and he was stuck on the ground looking like a dope :)

Jory steps up five feet and prepares to unload some arrows, but he waits to see if anyone knows what this thin man is? "I don't think he is a ghost or a fancy bad guy is he?"

Just before the door is opened, Inga casts magic fang (10 mins.) from her repertoire and shield (10 rnds.) from her wand on Klaus. She then casts invisibility (10 mins.) on herself.

After stepping into the room and taking in the sights, Inga casts haste on the group.
Except Trokkus, who's quite eager for combat as he clumsily flutters away on winged boots, earning a chuckle & snort from Inga.

Klaus hustles down the main aisle and then between the pews to take cover and stealth behind a large column.

will cast just two buffs...lead blades and shield...

umd lead: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (10) + 15 = 25
umd shield: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27

Jory uses some ki and decides to test which arrows work best by cycling through his extensive inventory at the hooded figure.
With the magical speed and his ki power he fires six arrows with deadly aim for more hitting power.
thistle arrow: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 331d8 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18
cold iron arrow: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 331d8 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11
alchemical silver arrow: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (11) + 15 = 261d8 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
If no arrows prove particularly effective, he fires three more normal arrows
normal arrow: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 231d8 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18 Ki used
normal arrow: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 221d8 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18
normal arrow perfect shot: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 151d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 181d8 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Perfect shot used

7/12 ki 3/8 perfect shot left

Kahwen starts to giggle as he feels the familiar sensation of haste falling over him. He literally bounces in place for a few moments before dashing toward the figure on the dais. He can't reach the man just yet, but he draws his sword and gets close, ducking behind a column when he gets close.

Assuming the altar that the music box is on is the purple bit by the sickly guy

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 12 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 12 + (2) = 17

It looks like at least a couple of Jory's arrows hit... if those didn't disrupt that spell, her own attack probably wouldn't do any better. That music box was suspicious, though. It wasn't even worth considering the idea of crossing over those circles ahead of them.

"Thank you, Inga."

With a mumbled spell, Granny rises into the air and flies over the seating, keeping the main pathways clear for everyone else.
Cast Fly. Thanks to Haste and encumbered flight, move 40'+30' (minus penalties for 45deg turn and angling upwards for one square.) Now 5' in the air.

sorry was busy at work. This was anti climatic...lol[/b]

The Pathfinders quickly enter the room. Jory unleashes a torrent of arrows. The Paladin and Granny move up as Inga hastes the party with her magic.

The arrows fly one after another. Jory remembers the time at the monastery where he made a tiny ring with his arrows on the target. This time is the same as the arrows hit the chest of the servant of the Midnight Lord. He struggles to mutter his spell as he collapses.

Combat over!

[ooc]the guy is dead dead..

In the room you came from you hear...."Rah..not a pirate seeds...rah"

Jory finishes and looks at the others.
"Not only does Jory find the best sandwiches, he has learned the way of the bow better than any elf that has killed his kin. Please remember me when you need to go on any more dangerous missions. If that music box is not cursed, I would like to be able to play that song when I am down. The song will pick up my spirits in the future hard times to come."

Jory begins to sing in an off-key voice "The midnight lord will not be stopped..."

"Oh my. Impressive shots, Jory." Quiet impressive indeed.

Granny flies forwards a little more, then presses herself against a pillar. Leaning out slightly, she casts a brief spell. The lid of the music box closes.

Cast Unseen Servant to close the music box.

Well...that was...quick. Nice shooting, Jory... the elf says with a nod of appreciation, himself no slouch with a bow, but clearly not nearly as good as the dwarf.
Now...let's see what's going on with this music box... Rallas holds out his hand and checks for magic auras first.

envoy racial trait...hardly ever use it...but handy...

perc, traps: 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (18) + 24 = 42

Trokkus lands awkwardly, knocking over a couple of the pews. "Well . . . flying boots ain't faster than arrows, I guess . . ."

Yeah, there was a zen archer PC when I ran Academy of Secrets and he could pretty much single-handedly take out every bad guy in a round or two.

anyone search the area near the statute?'

working my way there...and that zen archer was Flyn, right? his other zen archer is a beast too...

Inga and Klaus' jaws drop in astonishment when the Servant of the Midnight Lord is riddled with arrows and drops dead.

Inga alerts Klaus to her location with her bonded senses and, still invisible, regroups with her teammates.
"I'm here, everyone. I'm going to stay invisible until it wears off."
Her voice says from somewhere nearby.
"Let's get rid of that music box."

Klaus calls out for Smörboll and the children that all is fine and that they may come into the room.

Smörboll squints to get a better look at the dead servant far off at the back of the room.
"Criminy! Wha' happened? I didn't hear a thing 'cept fer a bit o' yammerin' from y'all, then some twangs of a bowstring."
He says, pulling out the stub of a smouldering cigar from the corner of his mouth.

After pausing for cover a moment behind the pillar, Kahwen lurches out, sword already coming up for a wicked downward slash when he gets to the spell caster.

He skids to a halt within a few steps.

"Where did he go?" he asks when he doesn't see the spellcaster.

It's only then that he notices the corpse and the arrows.

"I'll open every door and disable every trap for you, Friend Jory if you do this when we get to our enemies," he calls out as he sheathes his sword.

Although, at the moment, he lets Rallas do the checking, metaphorically bowing to the other man's superior searching and trap dealing abilities.

Jory seems a little emotional.

"Thank you all. This reminds me of the end of the Lantern Lodge, I never saw the Lantern Lodge again. Hopefully we can adventure together again."

"Yeah pal, happy ta have metcha!"

Trokkus takes out the earplugs and gives them back to Granny. "Thanks for the loan! I'd say ya remind me of me own Gram-Gram, but she use ta' whap me with the broad side of an axe just for lookin' cross-eyed!"

Having recovered the Song of Extinction music box from Tyruwat,
the Pathfinders superiors are eager to study it. Unfortunately, the
lyrics engraved on the music box reveal very little about
the lost Mwangi tribe’s culture, leaving the Society hungry
for more information. You're sure a mission from Dreng might be in your future.

The End.