GM Jhaeman's PFS1 Module: "Curse of the Riven Sky"

Game Master Jhaeman

"If you don't have a magic ring, I think any magical jewelry will be enough to set me free. Please hurry, I can feel his mental domination returning to cloud my mind already!"

Using 1 round (or 2, per GM fiat) of my discern lies ability on this statement. Both whether magical jewelry will set her free and whether she's being mentally dominated. DC 18 Will to negate.

(Adeah is suspicious of anyone who is allegedly being held against their will but unwilling to do whatever it takes to get free.)

Th'telis puts the back of her hand to her forehead and staggers! "Oh! It's almost too late! I feel . . . I feel that . . ."

Suddenly, she stands bolt upright. "I love and obey Naazza. He is the perfect husband."

Adeah rests the barrel of her musket on her shoulder in a relaxed pose. "I worship the goddess of uprisings and breaking chains. I was very close to killing your 'perfect husband' where he stood, for the crimes you want us to believe he's committing. I'd be careful with that story, if I were you."

She turns away from the dryad. "The whole thing is a lie," she tells the others. "Let's head to the giants."

Xilt shrugs keeping his distance for now. He had no real intention of intervening in the first place but he definitely does not want to be played for a mark.

"Very well our attention is best spent elsewhere."

"It did seem somewhat suspect." says Farrokh "There's also that canvas bag hidden over their in the in the brush.".

The "mind-controlled" dryad suddenly looks irked. She makes a rude gesture towards Adeah before somehow merging into the tree behind her and disappearing from sight!

The remainder of the day's travel is uneventful, and soon it's time to camp yet again.

Overnight, a cold wind tears across the campsite, bringing with it freezing rain that turns to sleet as the temperature drops further. Fortunately, nothing beyond the miserable weather seems threatening outside.

As it must, the sun rises--through the cold wind and rain remain.

Please mark off a ration and prepare spells for Day Five. This day is treated as Cold, so I will start to need Fort saves as you walk (unless you have relevant magical protections); I'll provide more detail on the checks if not everyone is protected when we start going.

Berato dons his sheepskin boots and ermine-fur cloak, hat and mittens that morning. "A cold wind is blowing my friends... a spurned dryad never bears anything good."

Fort save, cold-weather outfit: 1d20 + 12 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 12 + 5 = 18

The party stays warm and dry inside Xilt's extra-dimensional sanctum (Rope Trick). Before resting he fortifies every party member with protection against the elements so they have little to worry about the morning cold.

Endure Elements is up on everyone

Before departing the Rope Trick the wizard casts a simple spell on himself to repel and dry any incidental rain that might fall on him (Prestidigitation) and he even draws forth an umbrella to use.

Tzleztor rankles at his master's fastidious nature. The Mephit was even (temporarily) stripped of all of his scrolls (they are placed in the wizard's Handy Haversack) in the unlikely case that they might become wet and unusable.

He shakes his head and his irritation is unmistakable.

"Fussy aren't we today?"

Adeah makes sure she stays bundled up warm against the weather, though Xilt's spell thankfully keeps the bite out of the wind. Still, she's only uncomfortably cold instead of bitterly cold. "Well, nobody ever said the life of a Pathfinder agent is glamorous."

Prior to sleeping Farrokh casts his usual set of bedtime spells...

Xilt's magic makes a mockery of winter, and the group is able to progress in comfort.

In the early afternoon, cresting a tree-covered hill brings into a view a group of six thick-limbed hill giants with hunting clubs and throwing stones at the ready. But it's not an ambush--at least not for you. They seem to be stalking something else among the sleet-dripping trees below . . .

Upon spotting the giants Farrokh ducks back out of sight. "Any views on how we want to handle these? Avoid them, try to talk with them?" he askes the rest of the party, casting a couple of extra long terms spells on himself as he does so (mage armor and overland flight).

"Anyone able to scout and get us some info on what they are hunting?"

"I do have some spells that would be helpful here. Be right back." Adeah mutters an incantation into her hand and disappears.

Casting invisibility, which only lasts for 5 minutes so it will need to be a fairly brief trip.

Stealth + invisibility: 1d20 + 15 + 20 ⇒ (12) + 15 + 20 = 47

Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (7) + 16 = 23

Specifically looking for what has them so anxious & prepared.

Disappearing from sight, Adeah moves to discover just what the giants are up to!

Cool! No I will not try to intervene.

Adeah's spell runs out just as she returns to the others-- I hope none of the giants saw that!-- and gives her report. "Ok, it's something of an open question as to who is the hunter and who is the prey down there. The giants are about to face off against an enormous bear, probably bigger than they are. Way I see it, we can try to save one party or the other, or let them tear at each other and see who wins."

Xilt nods at the sound use of military strategy.

"True, it will be interesting to see who will be victorious."

"I guess our best bet is to keep our distance and let them have it out between themselves."

"If we save the bear, do you think we can make an ally of it? Can any of you Charm or otherwise persuade it?"

Seems like a job for Wild Empathy?

As the Pathfinders watch on from a distance, down below, there’s a crash of underbrush and a crackling of breaking tree limbs as a huge monstrosity makes a sudden entrance with a ground-shaking roar! The bear, standing an impossible 16 feet tall on its hind legs and its back is covered with bony ridges, tears into the hill giants! A bloody, brutal battle commences!

FANG! CLUB! SPEAR! TEETH! The battle between the hill giants and the dire bear is a whirling rampage of violence that leaves trees broken and boulders crushed! Blood, fur, skin, and hair litter the ground when finally it's all over. Half of the giants are dead or grievously wounded, but so is the massive, majestic, and terrifying animal. The surviving giants ignore their fallen companions and quickly go to work on receiving their grisly trophy by skinning the bear.

"Six giants beats one dire bear," Adeah says grimly. "I could tell when I got close that they're from the same Jurn tribe that attacked the castle. Should we go say hello?"

Soon the giants' not-so-delicate work of skinning the bear is done. They celebrate with loud, often-false, recountings of their prowess in the battle before starting a fire to roast the animal's meat.

I'll wait a little longer to see if anyone wants to do anything here, otherwise I'll assume you're moving on, still following the main tracks you've been following.

"I think you are right, Adeah - we should confront them while they are weakened."

Anybody else have an opinion either way? I don't mind going first, but don't want to drag us into it unwillingly.

"Would the idea be to see if we can get some information out of them?" asks Farrokh.

Leaving the giants to their grisly celebrations, the Pathfinders continue following the still-visible tracks of the force that invaded Zoarth's castle.

After a few more hours, just as the sun starts to drop over the horizon, the origin of the war party is found! Ahead is an ugly, simple camp of crude, hide tents gathered around the side of a rocky, barren hill containing a cave entrance. A few ill-kept fires burn lazily in pits, roasting large haunches of meat or boiling pots of stew whose contents are better left unknown. By human standards, the tents are large, but the giants that live here likely find them barely big enough to sleep in. Piles of crudely painted stones lie near a pile of various weapons; most of the weapons are immense clubs, but there are also a few massive axes, swords, and spears.

A few giants wander slowly about the camp, not terribly vigilant or energetic; each has shaved heads and threatening symbols painted on their skin. The entire area stinks of dung, rancid meat, wet leather, old iron, and offal.

It's been several days without a decision, so I'm just going to move us along.

We are in Dim Light.

As the camp comes into view Farrokh stops and looks for somewhere that the party can have a discussion without being observed.

”How does everyone want to handle this? I’m guessing we want to talk to them given we are looking for information on why the giants attacked the castle. But I suspect if we are looking to take a diplomatic approach here we probably still need to be ready to back that up with the threat of something more robust if it becomes necessary.” he muses.

Sorry, forgot to mention it ahead of time but I was at Origins over the weekend.

"I imagine getting them to talk will take no great skill. Getting them to not attack us on sight will be the real trick. Berato, do you want to take point on the negotiations?" (Berato has the best Diplomacy by a long shot.)

”Just in case negotiations don’t go as well as we hope, give me a short while to get a few additional spells memorised before we head over to introduce ourselves.”

Farrokh will engage in some magical preparations, once we have a finalised plan.

Xilt shrugs at Farrokh's suggestion.

"I doubt that these flunkies know anything of any importance. They look like low status guards to me."

"On the other hand taking a break to prepare your spells does seem like a good idea to me. There might be more challenging encounters to come."

"I am flexible with the approach and will go with the majority vote," adds Berato.

"One thing that it may be worth checking first is if the tracks we have been following continue past this place or end here."

A quick survey shows the tracks seem to lead right into the camp . . .

"I, for one, would like some information from them. Going in swinging steel will accomplish only one thing-- preventing any more attacks to Zoarth's castle-- but won't tell us why it happened in the first place."

"Well, we can approach and say we wish to speak. If they attack us on sight before we have a chance to have a dialogue, then I'll be ready to fight."

"Good idea Adeah. Why don't you go ahead and seek parlay. We will be a few yards behind you in hiding should they decide to not be as honorable as you are."

Berato has an Elixir of Hiding and a scroll of Obscuring Mist for such occasions...

Adeah marches up to the giant camp, holding up her empty hands in a gesture of non-aggression. "I want to talk to your leader," she calls out in a stern voice. "I'm guessing that would be in the cave?"

Having prepared his spells, Farrokh applies a number of them to himself before Adeah heads off, and then accompanies his companions in the direction of the camp.

Farrokh will apply the following spells before the party approach the camp: extended heroism, extended clay skin, extended barkskin, see invisibility, shield, and heightened awareness (from wand).

As Adeah marches toward the giant camp and calls out in a stern voice, she catches the attention of a trio of giants standing at the edge of the camp.

Although such things are not always easy to tell with the brutish creatures, one appears to be a young male and another a young female. They talk excitedly with each other and with the third giant in a seemingly indecipherable mish-mash of languages. The third giant, who stands two feet taller than the others, has two heads--one head appears to be male while the other might actually be female.

When the trio come toward you, one of the giants starts showing off by doing bicep curls with a massive boulder, and another takes some playful swings with a tree-trunk sized club, and you can feel the air whoosh just over your heads! They don't really seem angry or hostile, just . . . excited to have newcomers around? It's hard to tell, and none of them show any sign of having understood what Adeah was shouting about.

Farrokh turns to Xilt "Looks like we'll need your talent with languages here.".

He then proceeds to look for another boulder that he can use to show off his own ability to do bicep curls with large objects.

Xilt shrugs expecting there is to be an almost immediate combat.

"Very well then. I better put up some magical protection ... just in case."

Before Xilt begins his negotiations he copies himself.

Mirror Image, CL 13 with arcane point spent: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Xilt casts a magical protection!

@Xilt: Ok, so what do you say to the giants?

Xilt looks shyly at Farrokh.

"I will be happy to translate anything that you would like to say but I am not going to lead the conversation."

Xilt is no social butterfly and he will not lead any negotiation unless there is no other way. :)

Tzleztor never fails to miss any opportunity to needle his master.

"Come on. What is so hard. You can make your intentions known to some stinky giants."

Berato steps next to Xilt, shaking his head, and turning to the young giants, puts on a big smile full of whiter than white teeth, the such of which can only be grown in privileged Cheliax. Making exaggerated gestures emphasizing how BIG he thinks they are and how STRONG they all look, Berato speaks slowly, E-N-U-N-C-I-A-T-I-N-G each word then taking long pauses, nodding fiercely in agreement to Xilt so that the half-orc can have the proper time to translate each sentence completely and without leaving behind any details.

"How mighty are the young ones of the Jurn Tribe! Show us your strength and show us how far you can throw these rocks! THEN: I want you two to wrestle, and I want the winner to wrestle the one with two heads. Fun first ya??? business later yeah? now FIGHT!!! GO!!!!!

Animated and gesticulated diplomacy, dampened by Xilt's dry translation: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (6) + 17 = 23

Berato pulls out some ale and takes a few sips while watching the fight.

The two hill giants immediately take up Berato's translated challenge, hurling boulders with abandon and jumping up and down in delight or dismay as the massive rocks land further or nearer than the other's. Instants later, they're locked in a wrestling match that shakes the ground with every roll and fall! Meanwhile, the two-headed giant--surely an ettin--looks on with a dumb smile on both the male and female head.

@Xilt: Communicating with the ettin requires an Intelligence check to speak a special pidgin. The DC is dependent on how many of the following you speak: Giant, Goblin, and Orc.

Xilt speaks all three of the Ettin's pidgin so he anticipates no difficulty communicating with the creature.

Intelligence check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19