[ACO] PF2e Q4 - Port Peril Pub Crawl (P6) (Inactive)

Game Master UncleFroggy

Please dot (add a post) in here and then delete your post to add yourself to this campaign.

1) I am based in Southeast Asia (UTC +8) so my posting hours may be unusual (especially for those in North America). I usually update at least one or twice per day. Just to keep the game moving, please post at least once every day and at least once during the weekend.

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4) Please note that on the following days, my posting can get unpredictable:
Tuesday/Thursdays - all day, as they are the 2 busiest days of my work week

4) Please complete the Macros and the Slides linked at the top of the page.

5) Questions, concerns? Feel free to share them in the Discussion tab.

6) Let's have some fun and tell a great story together! After all, that's what we are here for.

Port Peril Pub Crawl

The last few days on Calisro Benarry's ship, The Glorious Payoff, had been interesting ones for Dr. Croaker. The grippli doctor had bided his time, waiting for their colorful Venture-Captain, Calisro Benarry, to just go ahead and give them their briefing already. Oh, she'd been a gracious host... She gave them just enough work aboard the ship to feel included without actually working them too much, told them lots of ridiculous stories about her home town of Averaka and time as a smuggler before she became a Venture-Captain. She'd also included a few tantalizing tidbits about the political situation in Sargava--no, it was called Vidrian now, wasn't it?

But she hadn't gotten to the point. Nothing about the mission, or why they were doing this little pleasure cruise in contested and pirate-filled waters. Never mind. Dr. Croaker knew that he could wait it out. He was from the sodden lands, and the swamp had taught him the value of patience and listening to the winds. He had genially offered his services as a medical man, and opened up his ears to hear the gossip that the winds brought him.

Which wasn't much, actually. All he knew from the crew's talk so far was that they were close to their destination.

He clambered up the rat-lines of the ship, feeling the satisfying rough texture of the hemp rope under his hands. It smelled of salt, wind, and human sweat, along with the grassy scent of the hemp itself. He tugged on the rope, and it felt solid under his hands as he made his way up to the crow's nest. Then he took in the view of the sea, and felt the wind in his face, and he calmed. Human politics did not always make sense, but this... the sea and the wind? This he could rely upon.

Then he looked down, noticing the rest of his team, up and moving about on the deck. He supposed it was time to learn more about these strangers upon he would be soon relying, including the little grippli witch who had come with them. Taking a deep breath, and spreading his webbed arms like wings, Dr. Croaker leaps off the crows nest and gracefully glides down to the deck.

Bowing to his teammates, he says, "Good morning. Shall we grab some coffee, and talk?"

At the stern of the ship stood Arnold, projecting an air of general unpleasantness. Well, for the time being at least - there was no shortage of things to complain about here, all the way from the seasickness to the stabbing sensation that the salty air imparted on his nostrils, to the sunlight, to the people milling about on the deck keeping him from a moment's peace - he'd almost rather have gone back in the ring. It was easy to be liked in the ring; one didn't have to be clever or funny or personable, all one had to be was entertaining, and that was easy enough to achieve with a spear in your hand.

They were close enough to their destination, weren't they? Oh, he hoped so. He couldn't wait to get back on solid ground. Even if he simply wanted this all to be over, maybe there'd be something on this job that made him glad he would've taken it. True though it was that he didn't care a great deal for politics, perhaps there was a better use for his time and his strength than pure entertainment. A pirate would probably have the advantage if it came to a brawl on the ship. His stomach and the sea did not go together. He preferred not to think about that for the moment.

Arnold didn't make much of a move to address the frog flinging itself down from the crow's nest, but it did catch his attention, so there was that.

When she first boarded the ship, Auntie Kikiru gave a small curtsy and introduced herself and her lizard Spot to each of you. She said her talents lay in her knowledge and the intersection of the natural world with primal powers. She doesn’t carry much for weaponry, just a dagger and a hand crossbow. She doesn’t have any armor.

Evidently enjoying the breeze and sea spray, Auntie Kikiru is sunning herself at the bow of the ship as she whittles away at a chunk of wood. Her lizard Spot is sunning itself beside her. Every once in a while, Auntie reaches out and scratches the lizard’s scales. It seems to like it.

When Dr. Croaker mentions coffee, she looks up at him and says “I will gladly join you, dear. My preference would be tea.”

A panther of modest size lies on the deck, basking in the morning sun and paying no mind to the ship's crew who seem to be giving it a wide berth. At the sound of the little grippli voices, it raises its head and gives Dr. Croaker a wide-eyed, expectant look.

"Coffee! Coffee sounds great to me, mister! Doesn't it sound good to you too, Palo?"

Wonder of wonders, a panther that can speak! Or maybe not. After all, as the world grows more and more connected it's more and more common to encounter all manner of interesting folk during ones' travels. The panther's query is directed at the young woman perched nearby on a barrel, seemingly lost in thought.

The woman, human with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, looks up, a bit startled. Her eyes, one a brilliant green and the other an icy blue, regard the pair of gripplis as well as the panther sitting nearby. "Huh? Oh, right, coffee. Sure, why not? It's certainly early enough for it." Though rather pretty, the woman's beauty is diminished by the tired and somewhat sour expression she wears on her face. A sigil on her hand pulses with a gentle light; the panther bears the same sigil on his forehead.

She slides off the barrel and brushes herself off before giving the panther a stern look. "Relas, you get one cup. ONE. You remember what happened last time, right?"

Having apparently decided that it's not a good idea to spend this entire job behaving like a frigid little jerk, Arnold reluctantly approaches the rest of the group, although there is a noticeable effort made to stick by the side of the deck and not draw attention to himself. His face is flushed green with nausea and he generally looks like he hasn't gotten anywhere near enough sleep. "Pass on that one.. coffee gives me palpitations." It's unclear who he's talking to - he speaks at a volume that implies he's not really interested in getting a response. He's not hiding away in the corner anymore, though, so maybe it's the thought that counts?

As a splash of salt crashes over the bow of the Glorious Payoff, Calisro Benarry deftly steers her ship through a hidden channel, carefully navigating through the barely visible rock and coral that protrude slightly from the water’s surface. Behind the Payoff, a slightly smaller ship—the Sea Sparkle—follows, making every effort to follow Benarry’s course as closely as possible. Off the port hull, the deep green of the Garundi coast is illuminated by the late afternoon sun.

"See those gulls?" Benarry shouts over the flapping of the sails, "that’s the sandbar we’ll be dropping you off at. Barely sticks up over the waves, but the seabirds flock over it to feast on crab. As I explained earlier, Vidrian—you might have known it as Sargava not that long ago—needs explorers to chart the trade routes to the south that they couldn’t use back when it was ruled by Cheliax. Simple enough bit of adventuring, but the new nation’s been having trouble with the Free Captains of late. Turns out when Vidrian broke free of Cheliax, the locals stopped paying the pirates protection money, and now they’re the number-one plunder target in the Shackles. What’s more, the pirates have set up a blockade preventing our ships from making it down to Vidrian to assist."

"Thankfully, we’ve got someone on the inside. Stella Fane, a Free Captain with ties to the Firebrands and the Pirate Council, has been in contact with the Society. She and members of the Society’s leadership have put together a fairly clever plan to help the Society’s ships pass through the pirate blockades unharmed. The Wind and the Waves willing, the Payoff and the Sparkle can sail to Vidrian, no problem. While we’re doing that, I’ve arranged transport for you to Port Peril to meet with Fane and get her to sign this contract making the whole thing official—she may be a pirate, but she’s the kind that holds to her word. You’ll need to avoid drawing too much attention until after the deal is done. Once she’s signed the contract her friends in the Pirate Council will ratify it and there won’t be much the lesser captains can do. Be careful. Anyone looking to put a stop to this need only ensure that contract never gets signed."

"It’s a long-term trade agreement; we tell her where we’ve had reports of slavers—she hates them and it’s no skin off Society members' backs to let her know—and she approaches us first with any information she receives regarding archaeological sites and historical discoveries. Our obligation requires us to make the information exchange each time one of our ships passes through the Shackles, so attacking a Pathfinder ship is the same as attacking Stella and her allies on the Pirate Council. Smartest deal we’ve made, if you ask me."

"Careful with that contract, by the way. It’s all magicked shut, so only Fane can read and sign it. Now if there isn't anything else, you can all jump overboard and swim to the sandbar."

To explain the concept of Hero Points to Arn Neyes: You can spend a hero point to reroll any check (including a combat roll) but you have to accept the second result, even if it's worse. There are exceptions to this but I'll explain it if it comes up. In addition, you can burn your remaining hero points to not die (which I have had to do more than once). If you have questions, please don't be afraid to ask. We are all experienced GMs here and between us we can probably answer your questions.

Earlier

"Pass on that one.. coffee gives me palpitations."

Palomia takes a good look at the man, noting his condition, and makes a surprisingly sympathetic face. "That's rotten luck. Next time they want you to sail somewhere, see if they'll at least pay up for something to help you with the seasickness."

"Until then, all I can recommend is ginger ale...or maybe the good doctor here has some herbal tea that'll help?" She looks to Dr. Croaker and shrugs.
______________

Now

"Whoa whoa whoa, what? You want us to just swim over there?" Palomia repeats, astonished. "What if there's sharks or something??"

"Sharks?!" Calisro asks with a laugh, "Naw! We're too far inland. 'sides, you're Pathfinders, right, you should be able to take care of them. Last I saw a shark here was several years ago! And the sea was dif'rent then"

With some concern, Auntie asks “Is the sandbar still above water at high tide?” She is clearly concerned about if the water would get too deep for her.

With a similar look of concern, Arn eyes the pair of gripplis. It doesn't look like he's worried enough to speak up about it, but he's worried nonetheless - what if the saltwater dries them out or something? As long as they don't spend too long in it, he decides. As for sharks - "Don't worry about sharks. Any of those show up, I've got it." He still doesn't sound exactly gung-ho about it, but he's being more of a team player.

"That's the spirit!" Benarry laughs. "Looks like Arn here's got what it takes!"

“So is Stella Fane going to meet us on that sandbar?”

Auntie Kikiru's question draws a bark of laughter from Calisro. "HA! That's a good one! I'd love to see Stella come all the way out to a sandbar! Naw. You'll be picked up by someone and taken into Port Peril for the meeting. Now if there's nothing else, everyone jump overboard and swim!"

Auntie Kikiru waits a couple of seconds to see if this is another joke by the venture captain. This gives others plenty of time to be the first one over the railing.

"Eh. Water's calm now. Shouldn't be too difficult a swim, and getting off the boat will help Arn's queasiness and do him some good."

Dr. Croaker finishes his coffee, then summons plenty of water to swish out and clean his cup. He hands it off to one of the other crewmen with a thankful nod. Then he looks at the scroll. "It looks well-sealed so it won't get wet during our dip," he peers at Calisro. "What can you tell us about Stella Fane, since I presume we'll have to go looking for her? Any suggestions about where to look?"

Dr. Croaker points towards the Mwangi coastline, and the perpetual Eye of Aroden hurricane. "I'm a local. I come from just the other side of that not-so-distant storm, in the sodden lands that soak up all the extra water sprayed in our direction, so I know that Port Peril is a good-sized and boisterous settlement. I'd like some idea of where we're headed when we get there."

Then he looks over at the tiny sandbar. "Also...Who is coming to pick us up from that sandbar?"

"You'll see. Now jump overboard or I'll have my men throw you off!"

"Fine." Dr. Croaker snatches the scroll and dives overboard.

Athletics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21

At this point, he'd rather trust to the wind and the waves then try to get any more information out of this rough-and-ready Venture Captain.

As Dr Croaker heads over to the rail, Calisro suddenly yells to her crew "Hey, wait! Someone stop that frog!" One of the crew manages to grab Dr Croaker before he goes over the side and frog marches (HA!) him back to the captain.

"I forgot something. I noticed you haven't signed the Pathfinder Society Waiver HERE. Sign that and you're free to go over the side."

Having already done her paperwork and seeing that evidently Captain Benarry is serious about the swim, Auntie Kikiru goes over the railing and tries her best to swim over to the sandbar. She isn’t a very good swimmer.
Athletics T: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

Frog legs flailing, Dr. Croaker yells, "You want to talk waivers? Do you?!"

Rubbing his arms once they let go of him, he crosses out sections of the waiver agreement and handwrites in, Dr. Croaker will sue your collective sailor butts if you manhandle him again. Then with a flourish he signs the rest of the waiver.

"You threaten to toss me off, and then you manhandle me when I dive to avoid that. Make up your mind!" With what remains of his dignity, he dives overboard, muttering under his breath about the general lack of manners found in the shackles.

SPLOSH!

Once she and Dr. Croaker as both on the sandbar, Auntie tells him “It is no use getting so excited, dear. Save that for our enemies.”

"Hmmmph. I suppose you're right. So how long do you think it will take for Calisro to toss the others off the boat?" Dr. Croaker takes a deep breath and whispers on the wind. "Arn, Palomia, Relas, come in. The water's fine, and the sandbar solid."

He looks at Auntie Kikiru with a wink. "My voice really carries quite well. It's handy sometimes."

Then he dips in and out of the water, checking around the sandbar.

Dr. Croaker would like to search and see if he finds anything interesting.

He scrunches up his face in disdain at the thought of being thrown off the ship and goes to jump, nodding a little in acknowledgment when the doctor calls him into the water.

Athletics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Arn gets some saltwater in his nose as he swims towards the sandbar, which is uncomfortable, but barring that he makes it there just fine.

Dr. Croaker thumps Arn on the back until he gets all the saltwater out of his nose. "Now, let's practice breathing out under water. I promise that it stings less once you get the hang of it!"

Calisro watches the other Pathfinders as they swim to the sandbar. About to turn her ship away, she notices two other trying to inch towards one of the lifeboats. "Hold on. Those two are part of that group. Toss 'em over as well!"

Protesting vehemently, both Palomia and Relas are manhandled over the side and tossed into the water.

Fortunately, the water is calm and relatively warm and you are able to make it to the sandbar with little trouble, though Arn seems to have tried emulating a fish by trying to breathe underwater. Those on the sandbar hear raucous cheers, followed by screams as both Palomia and Relas are unceremoniously pitched overboard. They join you minutes later, dripping wet with sour expressions on their faces.

Croaker shakes his head as Palomia and Relas are thrown off the boat, but dries the water off them so they'll stop shivering. The water droplets fly to his hand, and then he drops them back in the sea with a soft plop. "That better?"

"There's a wooden crate buried here!" Croaker works to bring the box up, cooing at the waves and rocks the box back and forth until he deposits it on the sandbar right at Arn's feet.. "Anyone strong care to open it?"

Auntie Kikiru goes over to where Dr. Croaker has landed the crate and inspects it. “Does anyone have a crowbar?”

"Not me," Croaker says, glancing through his Adventurer's Pack. "Didn't have much need for crowbars before this, though they'd be more useful to me than these stupid torches that I have been carrying."

He drops the torches on the sandbar, glad to be freed of their weight.

"Let me have a crack at it." When they dig out the crate and drop it there, he almost immediately gets down to inspect it. It looks like he could open it. Arn braces his calloused hands against the wood, feeling around for the seam of the lid, and tries to move it.

Athletics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

lol

"Let me have a crack at it." When they dig out the crate and drop it there, he almost immediately gets down to inspect it. It looks like he could open it. Arn braces his calloused hands against the wood, feeling around for the seam of the lid, and tries to move it.

[dice=Athletics]1d20 + 3

lol

Arn, you wanna hero point that?

Athletics (Swim): 1d20 ⇒ 19

Palomia comes up spluttering after being heaved overboard like a sack of taters but at least she has little trouble treading water. Before making her way towards the sandbar she takes the opportunity to make a rude gesture back at those on the ship.

As she climbs out of the water she's quite thankful for Dr. Croaker's speed-drying abilities. "Much better, thank you! Gonna give those guys a piece of my mind if or when I see them again..."

"Oh, you found a crate? Maybe it's full of rum or something," Palo remarks hopefully. "Afraid I'm fresh out of crowbars, though."

Athletics (Swim): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

Relas seems less perturbed about being tossed into the sea and easily makes his way to the sandbar with his summoner and everyone else. "Aw Palo, don't be sore at them. They probably wouldn't have done that if there'd been any real danger to worry about. Probably."

Noticing that Arn seems to be having trouble opening the crate, he chimes in, "I don't have thumbs but I could try chewing it open with my teeth?"

[dice=Athletics (Swim)]1d20 + 2

Relas seems less perturbed about being tossed into the sea and easily makes his way to the sandbar with his summoner and everyone else. "Aw Palo, don't be sore at them. They probably wouldn't have done that if there'd been any real danger to worry about. Probably."

Noticing that Arn seems to be having trouble opening the crate, he chimes in, "I don't have thumbs but I could try chewing it open with my teeth?"

"Sure, yeah. Hopefully your luck's better," he tells Relas, stepping back from the crate and trying to act like that wasn't embarrassing for him at all. Whether it works is debatable.

Pass, too early for that..

Through the use of teeth, claws and brute force, you manage to get the crate open. Unfortunately, you notice that what appeared to be a beautiful bottle of rum is now in several pieces with the contents all over the crate.

Arn's Athletics check was a critical failure (10 less than the required DC)

The tide comes in as you wait on the sandbar, eventually leaving you standing in a few inches of water in the middle of the ocean. About an hour later, a small boat appears, sailed by an elderly dwarven woman. She anchors the boat at the sandbar and begins moving around sacks of shellfish and crab traps to make room in the cramped vessel. She looks over at you.

"So you younguns are jus' gonna watch an old woman move all this without helping? I figgered you younglings would at least help out an old lady. If you wanna get going to Port Peril now, get over here and help move this stuff around to make some room! Hlar's the name, by the way."

Seeing the broken bottle in the chest, Auntie Kikiru says “Don’t fret, it is likely the sea water had wrecked the beverage before the glass bottle broke. Still might want to get a crowbar for next time.”

As the water comes in, Auntie tilts the crate on its side and uses it as a stool to sit on.

When Hlar greets them, Auntie chuckles. “Well now, it has been a while since anyone has called me young dear. Still I’m not one to idle the time away when there is work to be done.”

She jumps down from the chest and wades over to the small boat. Climbing in, she then starts moving around the lighter items to help make room.

Arn's face turns slightly sour at hearing the old lady, but that's more a consequence of the nausea, the embarrassment, and the fact that he's generally just not in the best of moods at present. In spite of this, though, he sucks it up and wades toward the boat, moving the sacks around. He eyes the group, not looking forward to being at sea again. "Will all of us fit?"

"I've carried more an' bigger than you lot. Now are you comin' or not?! I've been told to come out here earlier than I normally do and yer all standin' around not sure. I oughta tell Benarry to get another contact. " Hlar appears to be in a fouler mood than Arn.

Finally, when all the sacks are moved and space made, Hlar gets in.

"Y'know, Calisro Benarry made me come out here earlier than normal so you might as well help me row!"

Auntie looks at the oars and then looks at the rest of the group. She carefully moves towards the center of the boat so there is plenty of room for the big folk to row.

Auntie makes room for Arn and Palomia to row. The two humans get the hint and begin rowing, along with Hlar.

Hlar sails her boat in a meandering path to shore along the submerged rock formations. Occassionally, she would suddenly jump overboard and dive to the bottom of the ocean and returns with an oyster, sea urchin, or squid.

Hlar’s boat arrives in Port Peril around sunset. As you drift into Crescent Harbor, sailors disembarking for shore leave remain clearly visible, singing rowdily as they work. Hlar soon lands at a smaller dock to unload her catch and gestures at Fane’s ship in one of the docks—the Risen Albatross.

"Stella has a penchant for riotous nights on the town once she’s returned to port are well known. But I don't know where the kids go these days. You can talk to the harbormaster, Tsojmin Kreidoros. He might have a better idea of where Fane disappeared to."

Tsojmin, a dwarf, is close by, checking off tasks written in a ledger. Hlar points him out to you and sends you on your way.

You can either bribe him or use Diplomacy to get what you need

Dr. Croaker helps Hlar with her nets and such, manipulating the water to help push her crab traps into the boat, or swimming and diving with her when needed.

Athletics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

While he trusts the water implicitly and can manipulate it at will, he has a lot more trouble manipulating himself in the water doing the tasks, and sometimes comes up sputtering. Still, it is good practice!

When they reach the docks, he turns back to Hlar. "Good fisher woman Hlar, where can we find you again once we're done with our task? Will you be nearby?"

★ ---- ★ ---- ★ ---- ★

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Then he approaches the harbormaster. "Ahem! Ahem! Are you, good sir, the fine dwarf known as Harbormaster Tsojmin Kreidoros?"

Hlar sniffs. "I suppose I can stick around. I can always sell my catch...Now shoo! I was paid to drop you here and not chitchat with you!"

Dr Croaker makes her way to the harbormaster. He looks up from what he was doing and blinks. He mutters something under his breath before plastering a smile on his face. "That would be me. What ye needin'?"

Suddenly you notice a commotion as you see several rough men appear to be harassing a hooded figure on the docks.

DC 15 Intimidation to drive them away
DC 18 Diplomacy/Deception to trick them into leaving
DC 15 An attack roll to scare them away (we're not in initiative, consider it a skill check)
Need 2 successes

With the Harbormaster

You hear "I gotta stop hittin' the ale barrel. I'm seein' talkin' frogs now..."

Being excellent at whispering on the wind, Dr. Croaker stage whispers to the Harbormaster, "Are you sure you're only seeing one talking frog? As a medical professional, I can offer an excellent rate for a vision check."

Harbormaster Tsojmin's eyes bulge and he stares back at Dr Croaker... He blinks as he notices Auntie as well. Again he mutters under his breath.

In a more normal tone of voice, "So what ye needin'?"

"We're trying to locate Stella Fane... Do you know where she might be found?"

After noticing the scuffle

Dr. Croaker bows to the Harbormaster, and says, "Um, can I get back to you? There appears to be a mugging-in-progress happening over there." Dr. Croaker points at the thugs harassing the hooded figure and whispers to one of them.

"This is the spirit of the Hurricane, and the one you harrass is MINE. Unhand them NOW."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

One of the ruffians looks up, his eyes wild, "Who said that?!"

Auntie notices the troublemakers. Glaring at them, she makes a gesture and a thin icicle goes shooting into the upper part of one of the pilings that the ships are lashed to.

Then she shouts at them. “Do one of you troublemakers want a cold shave?”

Spell Attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20