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Hey folks, sorry for the delay of game. I'm going through something of a family crisis at the moment and haven't been able to get to any of my online games (or much of anything else, really). The game is not forgotten and I will do my best to keep things moving along, but it may be a much reduced pace for the moment.
Ah! I did know that, I just couldn't find the correct text - I was looking under their definitions in the glossary. Okay, so aside from a moment of intense scrutinizing on Loki's part, it's not something anyone is going to notice. I'll do my best to remember to point out anyone that "lights up" on your evil-dar, but feel free to point out that you're checking if you're particularly curious about someone in particular.
"Greggor," the guide says simply as he moves through the lodge. He leads the group to the second floor and down a hallway covered with a plush red carpet. The young man comes to an abrupt halt outside one of several identical looking oak doors. The only variation to give this portal meaning is a brass plaque fastened to it that reads, "Venture-Captain Heidemarch". Greggor knocks twice upon the door before giving the ornate knob a twist. No sooner does he enter than he takes a step off to the side, granting each of you ample room to enter as well. The office is as eloquently decorated as the rest of the lodge. Several bookcases armed with tomes and scroll stand along the perimeter, while a half-dozen chairs are situation in a semi-circle before a large mahogany desk in the center. Several full-length windows look out over the Heidemarch grounds and parts of Magnamar itself. Before one of the windows, stands a raven-haired woman with her back to you, her hands clasped behind her. Her attire is both expensive and practical.
I don't know about Belial, but I'll consider Loki to be using it with everyone he meets, assuming the circumstances provide sufficient time to do so. One question I have about spell-like abilities (and supernatural for the purpose) is what sort of activity is required to activate them, i.e. verbal command, a physical gesture, etc. This might be the only hindrance to having your detect evil "running all the time" as it may be rather obvious to onlookers.
"Crack team, eh?" the guard replies with a smirk. He looks back at his partner, "Absalom sends only the best for our Lady Heidemarch, right Jacques?" The other chuckles a bit as he pushes one half of the iron gate open. "Well, Mister Crackpot, you're right about one thing - it's best not to keep the Lady waiting. One of the servants will show you the way once you reach the house." He makes a sweeping motion with his arm to indicate that you're all free to pass. As the guard referred to as Jacques pulls the gate shut behind you, you hear one of them mutter, "Another bunch of over-zealous greenhorns. I doubt they'll last a week in the wilds of Varisia." It's a quick stroll along the cobbled path that leads to the Heidemarch manor. The lawn is well manicured and the building itself is free of grime. The architecture and layout give you the sense of a private residence rather than a Pathfinder lodge. A quick rap of the brass knocker fastened to the door summons a young man. The man is tall, even for a human, and shockingly thin. Despite his unusual measurements, he sports a well-fitted jacket and slacks. He takes a moment to look each of you over from head to toe before raising an eyebrow at Benny . In a rather bored tone, he says "You are the agents sent from Absalom. The Lady Heidemarch has been expecting you. Follow me."
Several days more and the voyage to Varisia comes to its conclusion. An anonymous crowd is waiting for you as you disembark, although no one steps forward to introduce themselves. A quick scan of their faces is enough to tell you that most are laborers; rolling barrels, driving carts, or unloading wagons all along the waterfront. Everyone, it appears, is more interested in their own work rather than four new arrivals. One or two porters acknowledge your passing with a nod as you make your way across the docks, but you are otherwise just another face in the City of Monuments. As you move inland, the scent of the ocean recedes. It is quickly replaced with all of the varied and curious smells of a big city. Pedestrians travel up and down the streets as merchants hawk their wares from stalls and street-side carts. An occasional glimpse of the city watch can be caught patrolling in groups of two or three. Aspiring performers sing, dance, and juggle in hopes of earning the privilege of someone’s coin. The directions Venture-Captain Vaslin provided to you before your departure from Absolom are easy enough to follow and eventually lead you into the city’s wealthier Naos district. As you travel along its avenues, you’re surprised at the remarkable level of cleanliness here. Lavish homes, detailed statues, and inviting public spaces are well maintained and show hardly any degree of wear. Heidemarch manor, like many of the residences here, is a sprawling estate with expansive green lawns. Even from the street you can spy several independent buildings, including a handful of smaller cottages set off to one side of the property. A pair of guards, each sporting both the Heidemarch crest and insignia of the open road, stands vigilant at the gates. As your party approaches, one of them steps forward and raises his hand signaling for you to halt. ”What is your business at Heidemarch Manor?” he inquires curiously.
First post is up, let his the ground running!
Having recently completed your training as Pathfinders, you were granted a scant two days to enjoy your promotion to field agent before receiving a summons back to the Grand Lodge. Together with three other new agents, you assembled in the office of Ambrus Valsin. After a rehearsed congratulation, the Venture-Captain gets down to business. As he hands each of you a pass aboard a merchant vessel dubbed the Opparan Opal, he informs you that the Pathfinder lodge in Magnamar has been quite busy as of late and fellow Venture-Captain Heidemarch has requested additional Pathfinders to assist her in the ongoing activities there. Preparations for your journey are hurried, but by day’s end you find yourself at sea. The voyage from Absalom to Varisia is lengthy, but blissfully uneventful. The ship’s crew is diligent with their duties and leaves you alone for most of the trip; giving you the chance to get better acquainted with your companions.
Okay, the holiday weekend is just about over. I should be making the first post around lunch time tomorrow. Hopefully everyone will have their characters ready to go by then - or shortly there after. This will be fun.
It's up to you, but I vote for the Inquisitor.
Good news, everybody! The PDF of Murder's Mark just landed in my downloads. I'm going to plan to read it over this week, which should allow us to get rolling next Monday, the 26th!
I don't actually have any of the sanctioned modules, so it doesn't much matter which one I run in that respect. Murder's Mark sounds like a good one, especially when compared to the two other 1st level sanctioned modules - one of which I know you and Rachel have already played. An electronic copy would be handy for posting maps for you guys and gals, but for the price difference, I'd prefer to have a physical copy, so I opted for door number three - the module subscription which will net me both physical and electronic versions of Murder's Mark for the price of just the physical. In addition, my other subscriptions are shipping out any day now, so I was able to sneak this in with the order before they went out the door!
It seems that Murder's Mark is the consensus for starting your character's careers out on. I'll have to purchase the module and read through it, so that may delay things a bit, but we don't have a solid start date yet anyways and it's not like your characters are going anywhere in the mean time.
Just wanted to get the adventure setup in preparation of play. My players can post their characters here and start a game discussion while I get things ready.
Okay guys, I just sent out the last of the chronicle sheets. You should now have all three chronicle sheets for the entire First Step series. Please let me know if you're missing any of the paperwork or did not receive the chronicle for part three. I'm going to leave the campaign open through the weekend before closing it up shop.
Not a problem; that's what I figured had happened. I'll get you the paperwork as soon as I get back to the office.
My pleasure, I hope you enjoyed it. As I said, any feedback/suggestions are encouraged. Andrazi, I believe you're the only one that has a Day Job check. If you want to make that, I'll scan these Chronicles and get them in the email to you all.
So, that pretty much concludes the First Steps series. I hope you all had fun with it. I'll work on getting Chronicles out to each of you next week. Being that this was the first PbP that I've conducted, I wouldn't mind any feedback you guys might have. You can either leave it here in the discussion group, or send me a private message.
Nestor shakes his head slowly as he pulls that last clinging strands from his scalp. Bending down, he begins to rifle through one of the bodies, "I can't say for certain. Perhaps this will help explain things though." The appraiser unfolds a piece of parchment pulled from the gillman's pocket. He studies it a moment, nodding sagely as he eyes move from left to right across the page. When he's done, Nestor stands and hands it to Andrazi, "It appears our three would be relic dealers are actually agents for the Aspis Consortium. Seems they thought they might pull a fast one on us by trading our legitimate artifact for their fake. Unfortunately, our efforts have been wasted, although I suspect Venture-Captain Dreng will be happy to know we were able to retain possession of the Pathfinder's property."
As Tanrov moves to help Thoradin free, the dwarf alternates between prayers to his deity and curses for the gillmen. Andrazi skirts the perimeter of the web, moving to intercept the bartender. As Hekirin and Nestor continue to struggle, the last gillman vaults the bar. She scowls at the Varisian as her feet touch the floor and immediately push off the wooden planks. With an graceful leap, she dives over the railing that once guarded the fish tank. As Andrazi reaches the tank, he peers down into the sea water below. Ripples are the only trace of the gillman. With some effort, Tanrov manages to free his companions from the entangling web and Hekirin finds his sight quickly returned.
Hekirin continues to fight blindly against the entangling web, swinging his wakasashi blindly in a desperate attempt to keep any possible foes at bay. DM Roll:
The relic sails just outside Thoradin's reach as the sticky strands restrain his arms. The item lands at his feet, threatening to roll away, but gets snagged on the web instead. Round Three
The faint warmth of Torag's divine power washes over each of you as Thoradin glows dimly beneath the mass of webbing draped over him. Tanrov immediately bends down and frees the artifact from the gillman's dead grasp. With an enthusiastic underhand toss, he passes it off to Thoradin.
Round Two (continued)
Andrazi finds himself entangled by thick gooey strands of the silken web. No sooner does he manage to wrench an arm free, than he finds his foot wrapped tight. Try as he might, he is unable to pull himself free. The bartender reaches behind the bar. As her hand comes back into view, you notice her gripping a slender glass rod. She calls out to the raging barbarian as she points the object at him, "Nelparsh." A silver shard of energy flies from the tip of the wand, weaving wildly through the air before striking Tanrov in the chest.
Round One (continued)
Thoradin's otherworldly voice draws Ahrmisa's attention and the gillman freezes in place even has he clutches the Pathfinders' artifact. Tanrov, eager to help save the day, steps free of the sticky webbing as he circles behind his opponents. Shoalo, quickly reverses her spear, jabbing it at the youth as moves close.
The thrust is too late and Tanrov moves by unscathed as he winds up with his maul. Having been compelled to halt, the male gillman's head makes an all too easy target as the barbarian crushes it. The familiar sound of a shattering skull preludes Ahrmisa's fall to the floor. The relic he was holding a moment ago comes to rest near his unmoving body. Having felt the sting of Shoalo's spear, Hekirin spins that direction and slashes blindly with his wakazashi.
Without his vision, the ninja's otherwise lethal swing sails harmlessly through the open air. Round Two
Still blinded, the ninja walks into this second attack against him, impaling himself on the gillman's spear. Smirking, the gillman crouches down and reclaims the relic.
DM rolls:
Initiative Order:
Nestor
Shoalo Andrazi Ulionestia Thoradin Hekirin Tanrov Ahrmisa Nestor knocks his chair over as he leaps to his feet. Pointing at the two gillmen opposite him, he shouts, "Stop them! They have our artifact." The low Azlanti woman steps forward, brandishing her spear. With a rough thrust, she aims to impale Hekirin as he fumbles without his vision.
The ninja turns blindly, avoiding the worst of the attack, but the spearhead still manages to open a deep cut along his bicep. Andrazi's ale leaps out of his cup and across the table. Ahrmisa instinctively throws his hands up too late and takes a face-full of liquid. From behind the cover of the bar, the third gillman continues to wave her hands and gesturing in your direction. Suddenly a thick silk-like strand leaps from her outstretched hand. It quickly expands as settles over the barroom, draping a sticky web over the furniture and patrons alike.
Web Spell:
Round one map: Bar (1)
DM roll:
Andrazi and Tanrov take a keen interest in the exchange, although the bizarre glyphs and angles of the fist-sized statuette that Nestor is turning over in his hands hold little meaning to either Pathfinder. Their scholarly ward, however, scrutinizes the object carefully. Opposite the party, the gillman gives the relic he was offered a brief glance before nodding in satisfaction, "This is acceptable." As Nestor's expert hand passes gingerly across the artifact's surface, several stone chips flake away. The appraiser scowls and taps lightly on the item. With an unhappy sound, he sets it back on the table between himself and the gillman. "I'm sorry, but this item is not an ancient Azlanti relic, as my superiors were led to believe you possessed. I certainly hope this is simply a misunderstanding and that we haven't wasted each others time coming here." Ahrmisa looks at Nestor as he fidgets with the Pathfinder's artifact. His gaze shoots towards the bar before meeting Nestor's gaze again. He opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of breaking glass interrupts him. As the party turns to look for the source of the noise, the gillman leaps backwards from his chair. Those still seated at the table notice the bartender gesture oddly as she says something drowned out by din of the bar. Both Ahrmisa and his companion shut their eyes a moment before the torches burning on the wall flare wildly!
Tanrov and Hekirin are consumed by awe of the glowing colorful lights spewing from the torch. Their vision is filled with whirling colors as they are blinded to the activity around them.
As everyone, including Nestor, quickly becomes involved in the merits of sushi, it takes a moment before you all realize when two Low Azlanti are standing a short distance away, watching your table. The man is carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle and his companion, a woman, stands as if protecting over him. As the realization of who this pair is settles on the party, the man nods acknowledgement and pulls up another chair. "I am Shoalo and this," he gestures to the woman standing behind him, "Is Ahrmisa. Before we begin negotiations, I am sure you will want to examine our artifact? I am curious to do that same." He places the bundle on the table and Nestor does the same with the package he extracts from his pack. The men slide their respective relics towards each other and begin to unwrap the item they've been offered.
Nestor leads the party to the Grindylow's Goblet. He indicates for you to find a table in the busy tavern as he speaks with the bartender. When he returns to you, with drinks, he explains that he's sent word to the Gillmen embassy that you've arrived and that he expects them to make contact before too long.
Nestor seems equally eager to see this journey to it conclusion. His limp appears to have faded quite a bit as he weaves your party through the streets. Finally he pauses before a sea-side tavern. The weathered sign above the door identifies it as Grindylow's Goblet. Nestor holds the door ajar to allow each of you enter ahead of him. The sounds of a busy tavern echo off the wooden walls of this unusual building. Resting precariously over Escadar's harbor, the tavern offers an unequaled view of the water. In the bar's corner, a thick glass aquarium presents a striking display. Within the tank, a coral statue of a goblin with the lower body of an octopus hosts a school of colorful fish that flit about the nooks and crannies of its tentacles. "Make yourselves at home," Nestor instructs as he gestures in the direction of some of the still empty tables, "I'll join you in a moment." The scholar makes his way across to the bar where he speaks to the bartender in hushed tones. After a moment, the bartender nods and Nestor moves your join you. It's not until a waitress has served everyone a round of drinks that Nestor explains himself, "I've sent word to the Gillmen's embassy here in Escadar. They're expecting our arrival and eager to trade, so hopefully they will not keep us waiting too long."
Wiping his hand first, the halfling takes the one offered by Andrazi. "Most excellent. We'll be ready to sail in about an hour, just as soon as we get my vessel ready - and a spot of desert for myself. I'll see you gents aboard the Salty Osprey shortly."
After turning over the agreed upon sum, the rotund Small Otti gives the order to set sail. The weather is fair and the trip across the water is almost pleasant, if not for the nagging fear of crossing paths with a Consortium vessel. Fortunately, no such ships are spotted before the Salty Osprey makes port in the city of Escadar. Once the party is again on dry land, Nestor steps forward. He puts a hand on Andrazi's shoulder, "Well led, sir. I have no doubt I'd have perished well before now if not for the company of you and your friends. Our assignment is almost to its conclusion, but now is where role becomes more prominent." He turns to address the party, "Let us proceed at once to the our rendezvous. This way." Nestor limps off, no longer lagging behind but confidently leading the party through the busy streets of Escadar.
Tanrov:
The portly halfling seems to have as much interest in his meal he does you or your companions, although he does recognize a chance to earn some coin when it comes his way.
The halfing smiles, "A chap has to eat now, doesn't he? How else do you expect me to stay afloat in the water?" He chuckles to himself as he pats his rounded belly.
This time the woman addresses Tanrov, "I have a crew. I don't need the likes of you fouling up my ship." As she scowls at the burly youth, Andrazi slips off his stool to try his luck elsewhere. The aroma of a freshly booked meal greets Andrazi as he approaches the plump halfling who is busy gnawing on a fat drumstick. The short fellow clutches a full mug of wine in his other hand. His eyes widen as they meet the gaze of the Varisian. He holds a hand up as he hurriedly chews the mouthful of food. Swallowing it with a hasty gulps he opening the conversation, "You and your comrades be needing a ferry, eh? I overhead your conversation with the fair Madame Sumore over there. If it's a ship you be needing, then you be in luck - it's a ship I've got." He pauses to take a drink from his mug and push his mostly empty plate away from him. He frowns as he puts the mug down, "Bleh. Unseasoned meat and watered-down wine; at least they aren't serving me out of the horse troughs. Anyways, I'd be happy to take you across the way. It looks like you and your pals can afford my rate of 55 gp a piece."
The woman grunts and takes another drink. She cocks her head to one side as Tanrov interjects with his appraisal of the group, trying to determine whether the youth was being sarcastic or sincere. Finally, she addresses Andrazi, "Alright, but it'll cost ya. 70 gold a head."
As Tanrov, Herikin, and Thoradin draw up positions around the tavern, Andrazi continues his negotiations. The woman mumbles something under breath about tourists as the Varisian takes a seat adjacent to her.
Tanrov: The woman clearly has a chip on her shoulder, although it's anyone's guess as to why.
The woman briefly looks in Andrazi's direction as he addresses her. She takes a swig of her beverage before replying "Yeah, so what? Do I look like I captain some sort of luxury liner?"
Thoradin once again calls for his deity's divine aid in restoring Andrazi to health.
Having recovered the bone wand and handful of gems, the party sets out at a slightly quicker pace - ready to be done with the damp and sticky mire. It's a blissfully short 5 hours before the smell of the sea reaches your noses. Grandmaster Torch's map has lead you, as promised, to the sleepy fishing community of Pier's End. The village of less than a hundred is the last stop before Escadar. The only thing standing between you and completing your assignment is about 24 miles of ocean. Only three vessels are moored here that appear to be capable of taking you to your destination. As expected, their captains are found loitering at the village's inn. The keep points out a surly-looking woman, a fat halfling, and a disheveled wild-eyed man blowing thick gouts of grey smoke from an aromatic pipe as he serves food and drink to those requesting it.
As Andrazi continues to sit and collect himself, Tanrov begins sticking his hand in the pockets and pouches of the dead kobold. Most of her belongings are worthless trinkets and junk. The most interesting item is a long slender bone that has been tapered to a rounded point with some strange glyphs crudely carved along the length of it. Unclear as to it's worth, the barbarian puts it aside and continues to rummage through the corpse's possessions until, with a burst of triumphant glee, he extracts a handful of amethysts.
"Oh my, that was certainly an unexpected surprise!" Nestor states as he wanders back into view from the far side of the fallen log. His feet,leggings, and forearms are caked in mud, as if he had fallen, but otherwise seems unharmed. "I imagine that alligator would have turned me into kibble had I been out here on my own. Once again I owe you all a debt of gratitude. Yeesh," the scholar exclaims as he notices Andrazi, "Are you alright? That looks to be a rather nasty lump on the back of your head."
Tanrov catches the kobold on the back swing, nearly lifting her off her feet. Having regained his senses, Andrazi pounces on the heels of the barbarian's maul, swiping a deep gash across creature's mid-section. Before she fully knows what happened, the kobold lays dead at their feet. The moment of silence that signals the conclusion of an exchange of blows is punctuated by the brighter glow of Torag's healing aura.
Reeling from the blows, his head throbbing, Andrazi drops into a defensive stance even as Tanrov rushes to his side. The youth drops his maul onto the 'gator and it roars in pain as its scales and bone crack. As the beast whips its head around to look at its new target, Hekirin slips through the grass behind the animal. Striking just behind its skull, the ninja swiftly finishes the job Tanrov's blow has started. Perhaps its the dankness of the swamp, perhaps Torag is in a foul mood, but Thoradin's healing light seems to shine less bright than normal as the dwarf begs his deity's favor. Appalled by the barbarian's devastating blow on her pet, the kobold turns her club on the youth.
It's a wild swing, rather than a well-aimed strike, and the heavy stick sails harmlessly short of making contact.
Tanrov trudges out of the animated foliage, pulling the plants out by their roots even as they entwine about his legs and thighs. Andrazi similarly wrenches himself free, attempting to fling a foot-full of swamp grass at the alligator. Unfortunately, the wet mud makes kicking difficult and the Varisian's foot catches in the foul smelling muck. He stumbles in place as he flails for a moment to keep his balance. Still standing amongst the writhing vines, Hekirin draws a shuriken. With a quick flick of the wrist it flies from his hand and seemingly dematerializes in the kobold's shoulder. Pulling fervently at the entangling plants, Thoradin manages to tear himself free. More pulling and some healthy cursing manages to get the dwarf free of the spell's area of effect. Round Three
Unable to recover his balance in time, pain shoots through Andrazi's leg as it is perforated by the animal's teeth. Rushing to her companion's aid , the kobold advances on the Varisian, swinging her club wildly.
Distracted by the 'gator rending a chunk of meat from his leg, Andrazi is taken completely unaware as the hardened stick of wood connects with the backside of his head. Golarion spins wildly for a moment and the Varisian stumbles.
Round One
Reflex saves:
The vines and swamp grass begin to twist and writhe about you, wrapping themselves around your ankles and calves. Hekirin manages to bend and weave, slipping from the foliage before it can close around him, but the rest of the party is not so quick. Despite his apparent limp, Nestor likewise manages to keep out of the swamp's grasp. Almost in unison, the party draws its weapons as Thoradin calls out Torag's name. Panicked by the unnatural behaviors of the swamp, Nestor begins to make his was out of the entangling vines and back the way the party came. Reflex saves:
Round Two
Initiative Order:
As Andrazi turns to return to the trail, trudging through ankle deep muck and swamp foliage, the kobold lets loose a sharp screech and shouts, "Bi! Nt xguksen! Tiy qukk bir glen nt xguksen. Ablo Hlq, oeirwxr rgw xguksen!" From behind the log, you hear a low, deep growl and the sound of sucking mud as if something were dislodging itself from the mire. Draconic:
"No! My children! You will not harm my children. Snap Jaw, protect the children!" DM rolls:
A low hiss emanates from the reptilian humanoid as she continues to wave her arms at you.
The kobold waves her hands agitatedly, as if ushering you away, "Agii, ahii. Vuf ibwa bir qwkxinw gwew." Draconic: "Shoo, shoo. Big ones not welcome here."
As Andrazi translates to his companions, a small reptilian figure steps from around the opposite side of the log. The female kobold is dressed in tanned animal leathers and sports the skull of an indistinguishable animal atop her head. Having drawn your attention in that direction, you also now notice a small patch of thistles growing just beyond the creature in haphazard rows, as if planted to resemble a garden. There is a brief look of surprise before her eyes narrow and she utters, "Qglr lew siubf gwew? Kwlcw nt xgukseb lbs u ib owlxe." Draconic: "What are you doing here? Leave my children and I in peace."
As Andrazi calls out to the inhabitant of the fallen log, the humming stops and a voice calls out, "Gwkki? Qgi ua rgwew?" Andrazi: You understand the Draconic as "Hello? Who is there?""
The combination of mud and mist slow your progress on this last leg of your journey to the northern coast of Kortos. Perhaps it's your slower pace or just an eagerness to reach your destination, but although Nestor keeps to his usual position at the rear of the pack, he is not trailing as far behind as usual. Eventually, the fog begins to disperse. The dense rolling clouds peel back to reveal a clearer view of the muck and vegetation around you. After a time, you come across a large log that rests across you path standing five feet tall. A moldering wood door covers one of the hollow ends of the log, and a makeshift mud chimney emits a thin wisp of blue smoke. From behind the crude house comes the sound of someone humming an off-key tune.
Soon after, the you realize you've crested the mountains and are beginning to descend the north side of the island. The biter cold and knee-deep snows are gradually replaced by more temperate weather. By day seven of this overland journey across Kortos the ground has sunken altogether into a marshy bog. Thick blobs of fog dance between large tickets as the foul stench of swamp gas pollutes the air. At random intervals, a splash of fetid water sounds in the distance, signaling the presence of frogs and other bog creatures.
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