"Eh, just odds an ends an tha like. Didn't know no one that liked her, but don't think no one cared enough ta off her."
The pirate will answer.
-
Looking about, the only animals you can readily spot are the geese still angrily guarding their pond.
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Most of the onlookers seem pretty nervous about fessing up to any shennanigans to a deputy, but after a little smooth talking on Marconis's part they seem a little more eager to spill what they know. One of them, an older grizzled Raft Pirate from the River Kingdoms remembers seeing Sandra about, during the first week or so after the meteor's fall. She was kind of unpleasant in a quiet sort of way, and she was selling some old worn personal equipment, but back then people were snatching up anything they could get their hands on (to be fair it hasn't changed much). Sandra had a way of knowing immediately if you were interested in buying or just looking around, and was quick to send people on their way, and despite seeming to be an average woman she had a weird sense about her that made you not want to make trouble, and she never seemed to get in much trouble despite her hostile attitude. As far as he knows, one morning she wasn't there, and it wasn't long before her body was discovered a good 15 yards or so around the hill. A younger Grundy resident turned hopeful treasure hunter will back up his story, adding that Sandra didn't seem to mind keeping the shop running well after dark, she also guarded her spot jealously, chasing off any others who tried to take advantage of the increase foot traffic of this end of the path. Someone from the back will also shout out that she in fact often camped out at this spot when the initial rush had people coming in non-stop, that it looked like she used the pond and the near-by forest to shore up supplies instead of heading back into town. As far as you know, the murder happened at some point during the night, long enough after the initial meteor strike that there would be plenty of time to ambush Sandra camping alone at her store, but it seems no one was around when it happened, everyone was either in town or camped out at the crash site, not halfway inbetween. ...Of course she was at kind of a bottleneck, if someone who didn't want to be seen was following the path into town, they would almost certainly pass right by her...
It's not the threats or assurances that take the fire from Ernest's eyes, it's Calli and Judd's mention of disease. As if he knew already but was just angrily lashing out at a scapegoat he already knew, Ernest will seem to deflate. Spittle still dribbling from his chin, he'll wipe it off half-heartedly and say, "But... But... It couldn't be no disease I ever heard about. Nothing that could take tha whole crop inna night. An I seen tracks an the like! Somethin' was in there an now ma livelihood is gone! Daggnabit it's harvest season an I ain't got nothin ta pull! Ye gotta promise me you'll get that sheriff workin' on this, and I don't want none o' her twenty gold-piece words neither... I need help..." The Farmer will say rather pathetically. He'll step from his crate and lift it up, slowly shuffling out of the way, as if trying to gather as much simpathy as he can. Some in the crowd behind you whisper amongst themselves that the situation was handled well, even if they did want to see the crazy farmer do something weirder. With Ernest calmed down the crime scene lies beyond, though now that you can get a good look at it the chicken wire set up to defend the scene has done little to deter people from entering to look around. Sandra's sundries and tent have Lon ago been removed, rain and wind have erased much, and what few tracks lie within the 30 or so feet that have been cordoned off look to be fresh, most likely from curious adventurers looking to take a peek. As the oldest and most accessible crime scene, there was little hope that any new information could be garnered, but there is no harm in trying, and intensce scrutiny may reveal an important clue.
It seems Calli's attempt to calm the old man has only increased his paranoia. "O' course it were those thrice-damned foreigners with their kooky magic an their... uh, SWORDS! THEY WERE CHOPPIN' EM UP! Laughin' as they did it too! Oh, I know those folks, they's was in cahoots with them outta-towners ta curse an spoil ma beautiful vegetables! How else does ya explain this rot!? An I was hearin' em too! Laughin' at me just the other day! Suspicious laughin'! You write that down! I can hear em' prowlin' around ma field at night! But they're slippery I tell ya! They're all workin' tagether! You'll have yer prison cells full tonight dag-nabbit!" At this point many of the adventurers headed with you towards the crash site have stopped to marvel at Earnest's performance. Confusing their jeering and hushed laughing for signs of support, he is spurred on, continuing to rant about how they are in fact all arrayed against his precious vegetables.
Ernest will wheel on Judd like a hound picking up a scent. "ALL O' EM DAGNABIT! ME ENTIRE CROP! In tha space o' one bleedin' night! One night they're jus' fine, an tha other they're rotten! ROTTEN! GOTDANGRASSAFRASSINDOGGARINNITSASAFRASS!" Ernest will appear to have a fit, thrusting about his rotten head of lettuce about, slathering Judd in a torrent of rotting lettuce sludge. "But I done know who done it! It was a group o' those foreign folk! And that Shamus Mcgaphy! And that Karldon Rierson an her girls! Oh and that Kieran Cavanan rapscallion! You get yer manacles out you, there be some dastardly criminals about!" Ernest's red face and the vein throbbing in his forehead make him look just as crazy as he sounds. His raving and ranting is starting to draw a crowd, but if he is to be believed then his entire crop was ruined overnight. Talking the clearly agitated farmer down might be difficult, of course you could also work him up even more trying to get to the root of his problem, or you might be able to distract him and just get him to clear off.
Just a heads up, I've got several huge parties this weekend, I won't be able to post until Sunday night, sorry.
As soon as he sees you all, he hones in on Calli like a hawk looking for a mouse. He'll walk forward, scooting his box along with one foot. He'll awkwardly shuffle towards you, yelling. "You! Aha! You'll all get it now! Deputy McDaniels, you get yerself over here, I need you ta make a report! A criminal report! Get yer notebook out girl, there's been a crime!"
Stat items are always a good call. Consumables, resistance items, even a good ol' fashioned ring of protection. Scroll of spell knowledge are pretty nifty for spontaneous casters too and they aren't that much.
The morning is hot and slightly humid, and you can see angry little clouds growing in size to the east near the forest that threaten rain in the future. For now, morning brings a flurry of activity about town as the adventurers heading south to the crash site are doing last minute preparations and shopkeepers are busily restocking from the previous day. The smells of spiced meats and baking pastries waft throughout the town square as several clever Grundy residents take advantage of the out-of-towner's appetites, selling meat pies fruit danishes that are easy to eat on the road. Meeting up near The Hammer Boy's shop (it is near the center of town, a pretty easy stop) you all can catch up, grab a bite to eat, do some last minute preparations yourselves, and fall in with the crowds headed towards the hills and the meteor within. The crowds are diverse, and certainly not as thick as they were right after the crash, but instead of the cheerful adventurous air you might expect about such a group, instead the moods of most present are tense and dark. Whispers fly about the procession of dark things found withing the ancient ruin in the hill, that nearly half the groups that enter are never heard from again. Rumors tell of four-headed dragons, evil unicorns, arcane trolls, and half a dozen other preposterous trials that lie within the buried monolith.
Diplomacy DC 10:
Apparently, the wreckage is the ancient city of the Owlbear people, but the Owlbears grew too arrogant, and in their hubris they were cursed by the gods to roam the world as maddened beasts. That's why everything in the ruin is designed for something really tall, and why it all looks ruined. Diplomacy DC 15:
The wreckage is extensive, what was revealed is only the tip of iceberg, but the tunnels within seem almost alive, they respond to people and things differently. What few rooms have been unearthed contained little, and the buried monolith contains a plethora of dangers for the unwary. The site is currently controlled tightly by three groups that jockey for access to the tunnels that lead furthest into the ruin's depths, everyone else is stuck with the scraps. Diplomacy DC 20:
Deep withing the ruins, far from the where the meteor hit, something still lives. Rumors are, one of the groups running the ruin found the corpses of some the creatures, but are hiding them denying the existence of anything still living in there. Groups that plunge past a certain depth, to where the ruins seem to be truly alive almost never return, though when they do, they tell of horrors within the dark and thus far most groups have returned empty handed. Heading away from town, the lush green river grass gives way to it's taller stronger plains cousin, but the repeated visitors to the crash site, following an old trail around the forest, have created a pleasent path through the sloping hills. Eventually, the trees begin to dot the landscape, until the forest begins to open up south of the path. Skirting closely to the Echo Wood you can see the enormous sturdy oak trees that stretch on into it's depths, as well as a large pond. Several very flustered geese will rise angrily up out of the water to honk their objections at you, and you can see several of the more frugal members of the procession making notes of the pond and it's tasty occupants location. Past the large pond, the trail dips as you pass between two large hills, and on the other side is the location where Sandra Jheru had set up a small tent and was selling camping equipment. As you pass the two hills, you do indeed spot the site, the tan tent still barely hanging on, with only two poles still upright. The scene has been wired off to prevent tampering, but there are several people who have made this area into a rest stop, the perfect place to stop and eat breakfast. There near the wired off scene, standing upon an upturned box, waving a spoiled head of lettuce is an older man with a bald lumpy head and wild light blue eyes that seem to jut from his head. His large lips are slick with spittle and his large crooked nose has thick patches of white hair sticking from it. His attire can only be described as 'burlap', while his scabby knees and hands are crusted with dirt. He stands waving the spoiled produce as if it were a weapon, thrusting and parrying to accentuate his words, sending bits of mold, and brown fluid flying from the rotten vegetable. "YOOOOOOOU! I see you all there! Walkin' to tha blasted thing when ye should be runnin' from it! It's a sign ye see! A sign from the heavens above to STAY THE HELLS OUTTA MY FIELDS! Ye think ye can get away with it!? Hooooo no, I been seein' ye do it! All o' ye! Treckin' in yer foreign pests and disease, me poor vegetables near stood a chance! YE JUST HAD TA MAKE EM AS ROTTEN ON THA OUTSIDE AS YE ARE INSIDE!!Meh poor vegetables... I know it's ye damned foreigners! Just as tha damned stone smote Billy Fefner fer ruinin' me prized rootabegas, there surely be more in store fer you lot. JUST YE SEE! THERE BE JUDGMENT A COMIN'!!!" His tone is warbly and high-pitched, but he slurs as if trying to speak through a mouth full of rocks. His speech is confusing, but looking at the state of the man, it's clear he has gotten little sleep, and must have been screaming at groups such these for hours already. This is of course none other than Ernest Finley, one of the finest purveyors of fine vegetables in town, though what he's doing out here is anyones guess, but he currently lies between you all and your crime scene.
I'll move things along for now, but if you made any specific purchases let me know. Just wanna make sure you guys are geared up for whats to come.
When you mention the word 'reward' his face will pull up into a sneer, though his eye look you over appraisingly when you mention the possibility of more relics. "Hm, very well. Should you bring me more of these relics, or any others hidden in this backwater town I shall reward you with some of the platinum my master set aside for this expedition." His human eye takes on a dull sheen that matches his metal one, and his voice lowers even further as he growls out, "However if I find you are holding any pieces back, or if you try to pass off some common trinket as a true relic, I will ensure that you will have no further need of gold." It's not so much a threat as it is a statement, and he says the sentence as if he has indeed done such a thing several times before and will do it again.
Just let me know what the rest of you guys want to pick up, and I'll move things along when you're done shopping.
The Technic League representatives have taken up residence in the Hallowed Hearth Inn, which is north of town near a few other less reputable inns. Lately rumors have been flying about the strange and horrible things the cult's arcanists have been doing within the inn, but it's still nothing but stories. Marconis-
"I am Setsin Dretch, second in command of the Cult of the Fallen Sky, the southern representatives of the Technic League. Those "coins" as you call them belong to Numeria by right and rule of the Black Sovereign. In addition, your Mayor has agreed to give us rights to any star relics with the town. Hand the relics over to us." His last statement was more of an order, as if he is used to giving out commands.
Pyotr Drev's shop is a ways outside of Grundy, a bit north of the other craftsmen's shops towards the river. Even from a distance his forge's multiple smoke stacks are visible, twisting and angling into the air like some sort of dead spider's legs. His shop is... cluttered would be a polite word for it, dozens of half-finished products and inventions line the many random walls of his outdoor shop, many of the half-finished products have detailed descriptions of function and drawings of the completed product attached, as if Drev's mind moves too fast for his hands to keep up with, always moving on to the next project. The spindly Half-Orc is currently ignoring a throng of several adventurers from Cheliax who obviously lack the imagination to determine what his inventions actually do, and will happily blow them away when a deputy walks into his shop. Wearing a hood to block out the morning glare Drev will peer out at your unusual find through his grey/black hair that falls over his eyes. Grinding his teeth through the demonstration, his tiny tusks poking into his upper lip, when you hand Drev the weapons to inspect he will faint immediately falling to the ground with foam and spilt falling from his mouth. Before anyone can even react, he'll jerk back awake screaming, "O-OF COURSE! I'LL BUY THE-" His sentence will be cut short as he slams himself into the top of the table he was working at, a loud WHACK resounding through the early morning air. Blood dribbling down his face he'll fly to his feet (avoiding the table this time)and undauntedly cry out, "I-INCREDIBLE! That's just it don't you see! There isn't any magic in these things! It's pure unadulterated technology! Simply incredible! So advanced that it's indistinguishable from the arcane! Ha-ha! H-hurry! Pick out whatever you'd like! Eh-within reason...." Drev will show off several pieces of armor, but all of them are far outside of your price-range. Eventually it will become clear that you're looking for something less impressive than he has available. Drev will write you a writ for the Barracks, the shop south and closer to the river. "Thank you so much! Eh, just be sure to not tell anyone you sold this to me... but I will totally take any more pieces of technology like this that you find! Bring me some more and I may even be able to incorporate this technology into other items!" Heading down to the Barracks, which is a large conglomerate of several crafstmen in town, you can find exactly what you're looking for, and "Cherry" Ralvientorem the elven proprietor who manages and runs the store will be more than happy to take Drev's writ. Apparently he doesn't give them out often, despite being one of the more well-off merchants in town.
Dion-
Well, better sabotaged than last time. All it will take is a severing of the thin wire running down... wait, three more wires attach at seperate intervals... and a piece of fabric glued to increase friction... even a false panel almost seamlessly built in, clever. After a solid minute of breaking down the triggering mechanism through dozens of redundancies and red-herrings you head inside. Where of course Violet is sitting innocently, balanced on top of your drafting table. As soon as you enter she looks at you with large eyes and screams, "NOTHING'S HAPPENING HERE!" She juts out her jaw, plants her hands on her hips, and mentally dares you to challenge her obvious claim. Two seconds of silence will blow away her resolve, and she'll shout out, "Oh yeah! Don't believe me! What you wanna fight big guy!? Get him guys!" She'll snap her fingers, pointing to you ask if directing a spell or a well trained army of hedgehogs, but after a solid twenty seconds it's clear nothing is going to happen. "..." "..." "...REALLY! Come on, we worked on this for like, ever!" Throwing the cap she uses as a disguise on the floor in disgust she'll shout out, "You win this one! But I'll get you next time!" She'll hop off the table, landing on the floor and wander back over to the corner of spare supplies you let her work with as if nothing happened. Of course her weird display was only a distraction so those Imps could escape unseen, after all they get quite a tongue lashing from Violet if they're seen in your place. She'll happily greet you for real, her tone light and playful, and you can't help but be glad she's here to greet you. "Well, looks like you've had an interesting day, I hear you even found something interesting in the Tannery. Something about a diseased monkey? *Sigh* I suppose children were a poor choice for an information network." The adjoining room with your bedroom is just beyond the door, but it seems Violet won't let you sleep without squeezing a bit more information out of you. If you weren't sure, you would swear she seems a bit worried though... Calli- "HAHAHAHAHA! I am thinking your reputation is already gone if I could find this much drink!" Bohlrick shouts happily, hefting the barrel to create a cacophony of clinks. "But I am sure they will not last long! Come, I will tell you of our friends and our travels!" With that he follows you inside for a night of drinking and revelry. Eventually, the night fades into vague memories of stories, laughs, handstands, ghost hunting, pan handling, actually handling pans, throwing up, backflips, fist fights, agriculture, fly fishing, cow tipping, sculpting, and several more things you're sure will surface in the days to come. It sure was fun having Bohlrick back in town, and hopefully soon you can meet the whole gang again. Marconis-
"Marconis, I... I know you're set on displaying those coins but... Numeria conciders all star relics to be theirs, and well... I've heard some pretty terrible rumors about what Technic League. People say they'll burn whole towns to the ground just for hiding even a single piece of metal! You might want to concider giving those coin things to the Technic League representatives in town. But, either way I trust you, be careful brother."
Calli-
As you approach to withing view, he'll rush foward, still far down the street with his arms open wide in what will a completely unavoidable and rib-crushing hug. He'll cry out, "Little Dove! Of course this is you! HAHAHA! I had heard you were here da? So of course I must come! It is I, Bolhrick!" And of course, it is Bolhrick. When last you saw him, Bolhrick Garkmav was the set and prop master for the Glory of the Risen Rose, and one of the most stable and practical men you have ever met (his fashion sense not withstanding). The Glory of the Risen Rose troupe owes much of it's existence to the hulking man and his incredibly skillful hands, handy at just about any task Bolhrick kept the Rose's wagons moving and had an almost supernatural ability to assemble the most life-like and vivid props in no time at all. His sets alone could bring people to tears, or have audiences gasping in horror. But it wasn't his talent that endeared you to Bolhrick, it was the quiet dignity and beauty of his soul. Gregarious and friendly, generous and loyal, what Bolhrick lacked in physical beauty, it was clear to any that met him that The Eternal Rose had blessed this man in other ways. And at the very least he was a blast to drink with. "It has been some time since I have seen you has it not!?" His booming voice echoes slightly and you can hear dogs begin to bark in the distance. "The troupe has been lesser since you have left Little Dove, but I say 'Bah, at least there is more for me to drink'! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He begins laughing so hard you worry he might pass out at his own joke. "But fate has lead to us staying here for a time, so I say enough drowning in wood shavings and paint chippings, I must drown myself in the finest drink this fine town has to offer! But for this I must drink with someone special! So da, here I am! And here you are! And here is our drink!" He says, holding up a huge barrel holding dozens of clanking glasses. Celen-
"DADDIE! Da-da-da-da-da eeeehe he!!" Somehow completely unimpeded by the pudgy hand in her mouth. She runs up holding her free hand up to you, clearly wanting to be held by her father. Hepzibah bursts free from the pillows like a breaching whale, sending them flying across the floor. She stands trying in vain to rub the creaks from her back and whispers, "Oh thank the gods..." She smiles lovingly towards you, fluttering her long eyelashes and flashing a brilliant smile with her too-sharp canines. You immediately realize she has work for you. "Well look who's back so soon! And not a moment too soon, as someone's daughter decided it would be an excellent idea to break into our stash of old sheep livers and roll around with them in the yard." Your daughter will punctuate that sentence with a well timed giggle. Well that would explain the scent, which is far and away from the worst thing you have smelled today. "She needs a bath, the trash needs taken out, the vials need scrubbed, that batch of new Blackwater needs powdered and separated, and the hares I left out need salted. I'm going to bed, my feet are killing me. Don't let Jyacynth stay up too late, and hurry up to bed yourself. Love you!" Despite her mockingly sweet tone, she shuffles off to bed obviously exhausted from a day of keeping shop and watching a 3 year old. She'll smile back to you as she reaches the doorway, and it's amazing how even through everything her eyes still have have that same sparkle they did when you two had just met, that same sparkle that still is meant just for you. She'll let out a loud yawn and shuffle off without a further word towards your bed. Marconis-
As you walk through the doorway into the room, you can see your sisters sitting about the table talking excitedly about some new silk a Qadiran trader brought in while you mother flies about the table, filling their plates with food despite their constant pleas for her to sit and eat. They turn excitedly and welcome you when you approach, Silvy even leaping up to hug you. Although they act normally, your mother yelling at you about being late for dinner and Pralia scoffing at the state of your clothing, you can see in their eyes that they were very worried about you. "Well, I suppose you'll be wanting some ham then! Oh, and next you'll be asking for some potatoes! Ha, here we go, you're even going to beg me for some of my fresh vegetables!? The ones I guarded from those blasted scavengers all day in the hot sun! I'll bet you even have the nerve to get me to save you a piece of Anna's delicious cake!? Well I never!" Shiloh will "mumble" loudly to herself as she runs around the kitchen piling food onto a plate. Of course even though her exasperated mother tone is enough to grate your very soul, her wide smile makes it clear she is actually just glad to have her son home and safe. "It's good to see you brother, or should I say Master Deputy *flurry of giggles*. I hear you took care of several drunk... er..." Silvy will say sweetly flushing as both of her sister yell out, "Silvy!" Obviously bringing up a topic she was wasn't supposed to talk about, Silvy will rush over to help Shiloh carry over a pile of food that could feed the entire 4th crusade. "...I was only worried..." Silvy will say quietly. "Yes well I'm sure that lout only got what was coming to him...and hopefully he won't remember everything..." Pralia will say with a huff. "Girls that's enough. Now hush and let your brother eat, he's obviously tired and starving." Shiloh will say with an air of finality, smiling brightly at you through her silver locks that always manage to escape her bun.
Eh, alright. In the interest of speeding things along I'll just give you the sell prices. Sell Value: Blue Orbs- 62 ea.
I do rather like that tier system, and you are right about asking about every little thing. I'll use this tier system then: Lesser Minor 80% Under 4000gp
Of course this will also depend on the merchant and item in question but for the most part I'll stick with that.
Walking back to the town proper takes a good forty minutes, but the fresh air does wonders, and by the time you see Skiff Street and the south of Grundy, the horrors of the Tannery seem like a distant memory. The sun is finally, lazily sinking beyond the horizon and the heat of the day is giving way to a surprisingly cool night, just a precursor of the winter to come. Skiff Street is surprisingly even busier than you left it earlier, though as you pass through, the rest of Grundy seems to have settled down a great deal with most of the travelers and fortune seekers having found lodgings or a place to drink. Few people talk about it, and even fewer people seem to realize it, but lately Grundy hasn't been the kind of town that people walk around at night in. It's hard to believe that your town, your home, has become so dangerous. And you few know exactly how dangerous it's become. Each of you can split up, deciding upon a time and place to meet tomorrow to continue the expedition, and heading off to your respective homes.
Don't forget the Numarian "wand", it's function is unknown but it seems to be something specific. I plan on adding all of your characters and locations to the Campaign Tab, I'm expanding the list quite a bit as well to include new NPC's and locations for the future, I'll post it when I get it all together.
Identify is only a standard action now, you could always check out the rod before you hit the road. Feel free to split loot OOC here as well.
Letka will say her goodbyes and will lead the obviously cranky old woman back home barring any more questions. With the days still long, there is plenty of daylight left to continue on back to Grundy proper, or head east towards the other murder sights. With the sun finally beginning to wane the light spreads into the Tannery, piercing the almost mystical atmosphere it held. You all can gather up what you want or need, collecting the strange and alien artifacts these creatures held. Even without getting them appraised, you know Numerian artifact can sell for small fortunes, so at the very least being a deputy certainly helped to pad your coin purses today. But questions still remain. Three deaths still go unexplained, death from being cut in half by something hot, death by massive exposure to some strange disease, and death by something massively strong and flexible. The Wretched Ones didn't display anything that could have resulted in those injuries. Why were they here? Why did they they choose the Tannery as their base of operation? What were their goals? Many more questions have arisen, but it was clear that if they hadent been rooted out, there would have been even more deaths. Taking solice in the fact that you helped make Grundy a safer place, you all head out from the Tannery and the horrors it once contained.
Thanks! Just have to pitch a few rugs and live with moly smelling carpet for a few days while it gets replaced, not too bad .
"Yes." Tabitha will say simply. "Somewhere out there is an entire tribe of these Wretched Ones as Letka called them. Perhaps several if their leader held that few fetishes, assuming the old ways were kept relatively intact of course." She keeps rubbing her right hand, musing for a moment. "As for the bear... it sounds as if went mad, those things happen sometimes. But for it to lose its mind and remain in that same spot, a spot you were then lead to by some trail? That seems to be far too much of a coincidence..." She'll look slightly offended at being asked to identify the strange items, her scowl lines long and deep on her face. "I don't know what any of those things are, but if you bring that stick by my shop later perhaps I'll take a closer look. For now it's getting dark and I've been away from my home one too many times today."
"I admit, I do not know. I don't know how these creatures even developed without anyone knowing of their existence. But their arrival now cannot be mere consequence." Tabitha says, her pale brown eyes lingering on the corpse of the bloated king. "You have more than earned respite, I cannot imagine the horrors you were forced to endure here, and I am so sorry for unintentionally throwing you unknowingly into these creature's den. I don't know why they chose this place of all things to base themselves, but you are correct Mr. D'monius, continuing upon this investigation is sure to unearth answers to the questions your discoveries have created. I cannot fathom what else lies in wait, but you have prevailed here today. And I believe you can do so again." Letka says, wiping off her spectacles on her collar that pokes through her shining half-plate. "I thank you for saving this building as well, and from what Alphonz tells me the apprentice tanners are undamaged from the prolonged exposure to whatever mental stimuli they were exposed to. They expressed great interest in returning to their profession and laying their master to rest. I'll have Alphonz gather a group of volunteers to clean the building and prepare it for operation again. You may gather anything of use or value from these... Wretched Ones, it's the least I can offer, and I'm sure you may find some items of use." Letka composes herself and helps Tabitha to her feet. "Are there anymore questions for Ms. Almick before I return her home? Will you be headed south, camping on the road or do you intend to spend the night in town?"
Sheriff Letka and Tabitha arrive later than expected, Ms. Almick looking tired and grumpy, a heavy cotton shawl pulled tight around her light frame despite the weather.
"Well, what they are I cannot say." Tabitha Almick will begin, her normally shaky voice is smooth, clear, and strangely melodic. She normally keeps herself to one or two word sentences much like the Mayor, and many of you realize this is perhaps the first time you've heard her say more than a few words in passing. "But I believe I can tell you what they were. The totems and symbology they carry resemble those of an ancient Kellid tribe that travelled the plains and forests of southern Numeria ages ago, the same barbaric tribes whose descendants now settle in Starfall, the capital of Numeria. These creatures, I believe, are the descendants of that very tribe. As hard as it is to imagine, those humans were somehow changed drastically through generations into the creatures you see before you. Precisely how this came to happen is beyond the realm of the arcane, and thus outside of my expertise, though my magics have allowed me to discern that my theory is at least partially correct." "These things bear a... power in them, and on them in the form of those stones. A power I think that was not meant for this world, or at least one that the forces I wield violently opposes. Those grey stones were important to them, but I know not why, they hold great danger in them that much I can feel." For a moment, Tabitha will hold her right arm grasping it tightly, her face contorted in pain, looking for all the world to be a tired aging woman. "Ugh, damn these old bones. My arm always flares up when there's a storm coming. But, that is what I have found if you have any questions." Letka will nod at Tabitha's assessment, her lips set into a scowl. "I fear I know little about these beings save that I am confident these creatures were responsible for the murder of Sandra Jheru and the post modem mutilation of Belloo Flungnugget. These creature's claws match those found on the victim's bodies, and their weapons were responsible for those impossibly thin and precise cuts. Of course nothing you described matched the wound that initially killed Belloo, nor Dirk or Kahlil. How curious... I pray there are not more of these creatures hiding about Grundy, or perhaps there are different species?" Letka scratches her head, and Tabitha shrugs, but it's clear the mystery isn't solved yet.
Sorry guys, my apartment got flooded in all this rain out by me. I was scrambling a bit but I'll make a post by tonight at the latest.
The Sheriff's Office is further outside of Grundy's main street than one might think, it's to the south-west near the West Sellen built into the soft ground of a large hill. The main office, where Letka spends most of her time when the town isn't under assault by dozens of problems is small and cramped, full of mismatched furniture with a low ceiling that is uncomfortable for the taller races. It lends a claustrophobic vibe to the surprisingly large number of solid dwarf forged prison cells in the room beyond that are currently full of the rowdy day-drinkers sleeping off their inebriation. Letka sits floating in a veritable sea of paper-work, most full of her tiny meticulous dwarven script. Despite only seeing her a few hours before it somehow feels like days. She listens to your report with the same serious, quiet face she listens to every citizens report. She begins her response with an almost automatic comment you've heard hundreds of times, though it does make you feel better, a bit of normalcy after so much strangeness. "Judd, what have I told you about self deprecation? It is a useful tactic for decreasing tension in social engagements, though increased and prevalent use results in jaundiced perceptions of mental characteristics..." Your mother sighs, taking her spectacles from her face to rub the bridge of her nose. Her dark eyes seem lost in thought for a moment, but as always, she soon has a plan. "This news is far outside of projections, I am glad to see though that you prevailed with no lasting damage. I trust the others are safe as well? I am glad to hear they were of some assistance. I met with Alphonz earlier to discuss the condition of Dirk's apprentices, he is currently questioning them now, perhaps later we may garner more information on that front. For now I will meet you at the Tannery with Tabitha, she has proven to be well versed on numerous extra-planar and magical phenomena, her assistance will prove valuable, thank you for the suggestion." - Inside the large tightly wrapped bad are several now familiar looking items, as well as one eerily familiar looking one.
King's Bag:
There are several orbs of varying color, though nothing you haven't seen before. There are several small fetishes like those found in the living quarters below, those these seem much more carefully and expertly crafted, some even seem extremely old. The fetishes are mostly of animals and humanoid figures, made of several different types of materials, their quality is impressive despite their unusual make, and many details such as feathers and floppy tails can be seen. The last item, wrapped heavily in several layers of this unusual thick skin is an ancient wooden rod, carved with several old arcane symbols down it's length and decorated with fur, feathers, and fangs, strung on leather cording. The Rod is so old only it's inherent magic seems to be keeping it from falling to dust, and even without any magical talent, a faint hum of power can be felt when holding it. Whats strange is that the markings, and the rod itself look Kellid in nature. Blue Orbs x2
Spellcraft DC 22: This is an ancient Suzerain Scepter that was given to the ruler of a tribe as proof of their right to rule.
Celen's conjured water quickly puts of the fire, and not a moment too soon. The still smouldering floor-boards put out a chemical smell that makes your eyes water, and for a brief moment you wonder if you'll ever smell anything good again.
Both Calli and Judd spot the familiar decorative pouch that undoubtedly contains another of those mysterious grey orbs on the bloated monster's belt, in addition to a large sealed pouch that seems to have been made out of one of these creature's skin, bound tightly at the top with sinew. It's heavy and akward to carry but shouldn't be a problem if that's all someone is carrying.
Congrats everyone, defeating the Wretched King and his minions (as well as the dangers up to this point) earns you all a level, welcome to level 4! Do me a favor and post what skills and new class features you get, and don't forget my weird HP rolling rules!
Before finally succumbing to the incredible mental assault, Judd drives his mighty hammer home, crushing all three skulls of the monster simultaneously. Though immense, the Wretched King was already rotting, it's body clearly ravaged by mutation and disease, and it collapses with a pathetic gurgling sound into it's make-shift throne, finally out out of it's misery. The danger is not over yet, as the fire continues to rage unabated, spreading across the floor and climbing the walls, creating a thick wall of smoke and waves of intense heat. The stairway remains clear for now, but it's only a matter of time before it too is engulfed. Should you hurry, you may be able to gather what few clues you have to the creature's identity in their make-shift home below, or if you don't mind risking the flames, you may search the fallen king's corpse for any more clues.
DM Rolls:
Again Marconis's bolt is thrown aside by an unseen armor not unlike his own. The creature and Celen lock eyes as he slams into it with his morningstar, and for a moment the two seem lost in their own world, as does Calli who halts her advance and looks about with wide eyes. The creature reels back and lashes forward screaming, and with no arcane gesture or divine empowerment summons a blast of flame with the power of it's mind alone. The flames leap out towards Calli, Dion, and Judd, engulfing the wooden floor which ignites instantly, having the strong tanning chemicals long leeched into it. The fire begins spreading quickly, the creature clearly unwilling to perish without taking one of it's hated foes with it. It's only a matter of time before the whole building goes up in flames.
Calli and Judd:
Stepping through the wall of emotions emanating from the creature, you begin to feel the layers beyond it's all-consuming rage. Stepping closer you feel the creeping influence of a never ending and all pervasive fear, the likes of which you have never known, as if every second you are being hunted, watched by something from which you may never escape. Through that fear is something even stranger, something so unlikely that it catches you completely by surprise. Wonder. An utter child-like awe at the world around you. An aching yearning to explore and discover more about this strange unheard of world around you. The feeling is so innocent that you accident get completely caught up in it. For Judd, the danger or the Hound draws you away, back to reality and the fight at hand. But Calli looks around the room as if seeing everything for the first time. The unusual texture and feel of the wood beneath your feet, the unbearable comfort and itchiness of your wool undershirt, the way your hair feels as you shift around, the way the dull light of the sunrod dances about the room. Everything, EVERYTHING is so fresh, so new, so VIBRANT! It's as if you've lived in a world so different and alien, so dark and drab, and now the world is full of color and light! Every second something wonderful and incredible happens that fills you with mind blowing awe, and somehow you know that this is just what the bloated monster on it's pile of rusted tools is feeling, but for just a few seconds it's hard not to care. Celen:
Passing closer to the creature you feel wave after wave of emotion rocking against you like waves against a shore. Each steps take you through a different emotion, through a different feeling that pours from this monster like a waterfall. It's all consuming rage is greatest, so powerful that even below you felt it, creeping into your mind, but as you push closer, you feel FEAR so intense you risk wetting yourself and fleeing off into the night. Underneath that fear is WONDER a child-like awe at the somehow new and different world around you. And beneath it all, beneath the raging boiling emotions is DOUBT and confusion. This close to the creature, even as your weapon rends it's flesh and breaks it's bones, it becomes impossible for just a moment for your mind to handle the powerful being pouring so much of it's ego out into the world. And for just a sliver of time you are this creature, and it you. You remember being born in a lightless world of pain and terror, to a people hunted and alone. You were special, you had the power to lead, to teach. You learned of your people's history, and their noble sacrifice, and you fought as your people always did, to ensure that the story of your kind would continue. You remember the explosion of light and flame, that brought a new world crashing into your own. You stood in awe as the ancient stories proved true, of the kind that came before appeared exploring the halls if your home. But rather than treat your people as the heroes they were, you and your tribe were hunted and killed. Always hunted, always afraid. And you HATED them for it, these beautiful strange beings. They should of loved you, they should of shared what you and your kind helped to protect so long ago. Enough of the terror, enough of the hunting, you would take what you deserved from these hateful things. Leave the horrors and monsters of your world to them, you would have theirs, it was only fair. Even as you remember your life as this creature, the Wretched King remembers it's life as you. Discovering hope and your goddess and the magic that sang in your veins, the first time your wife to be looked at you the way you always lovingly looked at her, the moment she finally agreed to wed you and the warmth of her lips as you embraced, even the feeling of your heart skipping several beats as you felt for the first time your daughters fingers tightly grasp your own. It stares down at you, it's uneven malformed eyes red and blood-shot, and for just a moment you imagine you see a tear. For that small second you understand, this truly wretched thing upon it's rusted make-shift throne. You feel it's loss of love and acceptance, concepts it hasn't even any words for. And though this creature is not truly evil it is a vile thing. And it will never stop hating you. Suddenly your body begins to question which mind controls it, and as you fight for control you feel it begin to act without your mind's consent...
Distracted with trying to snap at Dion, the Retch Hound won't see Judd's hammer coming as it scores a tremendous hit, throwing the large "animal" across the room and into the wall. As it slams into the far wall it bursts into a huge pile of viscous mucus and bile, showering the three near it with flecks of still reeking pus.
DM Rolls:
Despite the hound's death grip on Dion's leg, he manages to wrench it from the creature's mouth, and sending broken teeth flying he manages to right himself.
DM Rolls:
Judd's heavy swing is dodged by the unusually agile hound, it bends and twists as if it has no bones holding it back.
Dion once more prepares his armor aided assault, the sounds of ratcheting gears and straining springs sound as his arm blades blur, striking the large Retch Hounds dozens of times. The creature howls in pain, but summons what little of it's strength remains and it's jagged teeth manage to pierce through Dion's weak armor joints, blood pours from his leg as the creature drags him still flailing to the floor.
The Wretched King reaches out with it's long arms, but Celen's spell prevents the creature from striking out with any speed, and even on the ground, Dion manages to juke out of the way of it's grasping claws which explode when they touch the ground, blowing and splintering the floorboards with telekinetic force.
DM Rolls:
Dion's arm blades lash out quickly at the large Retch Hound, leaving long but shallow lines that bleed ooze and pus. Unlike the others, this creature seems accustomed to pain, and it lashes out quickly at Dion after his attack though thankfully it's thin broken teeth fail to find purchase on his armor. Calli rushes forward, whipping the blue orb at the bloated monstrosity on it's "throne". Her aim is fouled by the mental assault but it's large explosion still manages to wash over the creature, it's two mouths screaming in tandem. Ignoring it's pain, the creature reaches forward with it's long thin arms towards Dion. Distracted from defending against the hound, the creature touches his helm, sending a concentrated mental assault to rip Dion's brain in half. Dion will spasm with pain, but his miraculous armor prevents too much damage from the seizure.
DM Rolls:
Marconis's aim is fouled by the powerful psionic assault, his bolt thunking into the floor far short of sitting creature. Celen's aim is true, and the orb sails easily through the air, smashing into the Retch Hound's face. It yelps in surprise as the orb shatters and explodes, sending waves of blue force washing over it and the creature sitting on it's make-shift throne, it's two mouths squealing from pain in tandem. Stepping closer to the creature and it's beast causes your mind to fill to the brim with emotions and sensations, but Judd powers through as if unaffected. However the stench of the beast proves even stronger than those below, and Judd's swing is fouled having to defend against so many sensory assaults.
As you ascend the stairs, it's like stepping into an alien world. Each step becomes harder and harder as this mental effect becomes more and more intense. Your vision begins to warp and bend, your heart races as adrenaline floods your system, yet you find yourself yawning, as if your very body is rejecting this alien influence. Each step seems to take an eternity as the simple act of placing one foot in front of the other becomes incredibly complicated, even breathing takes all of your concentration. Eventually, after what seems like days you reach the second floor, the light from the sunrod doesn't seem able to pierce the pitch-black of the following room, which in your warped perceptions seems like the portal to another world. While there is no physical barrier in the doorway, walking through the doorway you are assaulted by a wave of emotion so intense it's difficult to even stand. There is a faint glow from the end of the room, near a large collection of tools designed to work and treat the skins. There lying atop a pile of rusted machinery like some sort of twisted king is a creature that only superficially resembles those below. It's legs are small and underdeveloped, and with it's girth it seems like it hasn't walked in some time. It's stomach is huge and distended, and is split at the bottom, with several of it's rotting organs hanging out for all to see. Tumors cover it's form, and on either side of it's neck are two highly developed enormous growths that grossly resemble child-like forms, one has a mouth full of sharp serrated teeth, the other has large blood-shot eyes, staring in your direction. It's primary head is huge and bulbous, thick veins pulsing as it spits and gurgles. Reaching out with it's thin arms it screams again, thankfully not with supernatural volume, but as it's rage washes over you, it's difficult not to confuse it's hatred for your own.
Stepping from behind the pile of rusted tools is a lone Retch Hound, larger than the others you encountered. It moves as if to guard the wretched king, growling and foaming at you all as pus pours from it's eyes like tears. DM Rolls:
Approaching this gurgling wretched beast, even a little only increases the power of the emotions flooding into you, and even from the stairs you can tell that approaching too closely will increase this effect to dangerous levels.
Your Turns
Opening the door reveals another unusual sticky mass that explodes outwards when the door is opened. Regardless of whether or not Celen manages to dodge it, there are no ill-effects from the material and there doesn't seem to be anything in the next room to take advantage of the trap. The next room contains no windows, similar to the previous. Scattered throughout the room are various differently sized vats, in which various worked skins are being soaked in tannins. This room smells strongly of chemicals, but it's not a bad smell, just powerful. The largest of the vats towers above the rest, easily eight feet tall. Examining the room, it seems like the large vat contains several uncleaned skins laid out like sleeping rolls, as well as a few other living amenities and what look like some rolled up personal belongings, all centered around a large pile of grey orbs, though these looks smaller and... less pure is the first thing that comes to mind. Belongings:
These seem to be blankets made from a thick rubbery material none of you recognize, rolled up with the blankets are various, almost childish nick-nacs. Pieces of metal warped in unusual ways, smaller pieces of this rubbery material carved with rudimentary pictures, colorful pieces of glass, and small humanoid figurines made of wires. There are also a small collection of large coin shaped metallic pieces made of the blue-ish Numerian metal, and each pack contains a single piece of bone and hide worked into an unusual shape, though it looks vaguely like an animal. Numerian Coins x 13
Knowledge: Local DC 20:
The small fetishes in the creature's packs resemble those that the Kellid people have made for generations. Survival: DC 15:
Though there are multiple packs, only five of them have seen recent use, the others have been stored away for a few days now. The rest of the room seems to be empty of crazy psychic cancer monsters, but there is a staircase leading to the second floor.
Getting slammed at work today, I'll post when I get home tonight
The small metal rod shows no signs as to it's function, and short of taking it apart it's anyone's guess. It has two small depressions on one end, and on the other end a simple € mark.
For those wanting to continue onward, the door to the adjoining building is currently closed but with no lock in sight. There are stairs in this room that lead upward to the second floor, and though whatever is was that's here did sound like it was coming from above, it's cry was so loud it could have come from either if the two buildings.
Judd pulls the ruined bodies of the creatures into the light to examine them. You aren't sure exactly how many workers Dirk had, but looking over these creatures you realize they probably couldn't be the workers. These creatures seem... acclimated to the disease wracking their body, as if they've lived their entire lives effected by the blood disease Alfonz mentioned. As if they were shaped by the disease itself. They do in fact bear a passing resemblance to humans, they share a similar bone structure, their organs seem nearly exactly the same (their mouths and digestive tracks still seem extremely underdeveloped, or developed to consume something else), and barring their extreme deformities and mutations, they may have in fact been human at one point. While you have heard of powerful effects that can warp and change humanoid, the fact that these creatures seem so similar indicates they be yet another offshoot of humanity, but where they came from, and what warped them so heavily is still unknown.
Marconis dismisses his spell and steps out of the way, just in time for Judd to slam his hammer through the doorframe, directly into the creature's head, splitting it like a melon. The creature, covered in and still standing in grease will fly across the floor with incredible speed, slamming against the far wall. For a split second your heads clear, the oppressive aura of this place, the reeking stench, the maddening emotions flooding your mind all cease. And then you hear a scream. These creatures, driven mad with rage as they were shouted non-stop, it was a wonder they managed to hide themselves away for so long. But that was nothing compared to this. It starts in your belly and seems to reverberate your entire body, your very soul. Noise doesn't begin to describe such an effect as blood begins to drip from your ears, the force of the scream so loud it seems to cause the wooden building to warp around you all as the edges of your vision blur. Just as incredible as the scream began it abruptly stops, leaving your teeth chattering and your muscles twitching. Something still remains in this building as the sound ends, it's echoes leading towards the upper floors. And then the sensations of this place come flooding back, with that burning rage still awaiting you all. Some of the creatures do still have several items attached to their crude belts, not to mention the "weapons" they were wielding, and unlike the hounds their bodies seem to remain after they are killed. Loot, DC 10 Perception:
The two weaponless creatures still have several orbs of an unusual material attached to their belts, and many of them are different colors. All of the creatures, in a decorative sturdy pouch attached to the back of their belts have a fist sized orb of some silvery-grey mineral. It is extremely heavy, much more so than it appears, but it burns bare skin and is uncomfortable to be around in the open, it makes your skin itch and your mouth taste of iron. Blue Orbs x4
Loot, DC 20 Perception:
The creature that faced off with Judd had an unusual metallic cylander, about the width of a thumb but twice as long, it is sectioned and contained intricate metallic parts within, undoubtedly a Numerian relic. Craft: Alchemy DC 16 on Orbs:
The Grey Orbs are something of a mystery, but they are undoubtedly harmful and should be kept with their bags. The Blue Orbs contain a volitile energy which explodes upon contact with oxygen. Although the shape of these slightly oblong suggest they are used for something else, as these creatures proves they are effective weapons. The Red Orbs are both genius and cruel, they contain a cocktail of chemicals and hormones that promote health and vitality, at the cost of their aid when the chemicals run out.
Knowledge: Engineering DC 17 on Box Weapons: These weapons are clearly designed to activate upon contact with an enemy, they have both pressure plates on the ends and a button near the handle. As best you can guess, they draw forth and collect portions on an enemies interior, leaving only an infinitesimal exit point. There doesn't seem to be any exit point for what the weapons collect, and as grisly as it may seem, the weapons seem to convert what they take into energy.
DM Rolls:
Neither Marconis nor Celen manages to slip an attack in to damage the last creature. Rather than loose moral, the thing simply seems to have lost what little of it's senses remained, screaming so loudly that it hurts just to stand next to the thing. It lashes out several times to no avail, Celen's careful measured strikes keep it from hitting him. Strangely, despite the creatures falling one by one, this unusual mental effect is continuing, and it only seems to be getting stronger. With fewer creatures pouring their emotions into you, you begin to feel what you thought was background "noise" before become more solid and real. It's as if something... greater than any of these monsters was feeding so much raw emotion and ANGER into these things that they couldn't help but attack. Almost like a bass note this larger presence looms beneath the mental effect, seething with anger and hatred.
Judd kicks his shield towards the creature, it bounces off of the thing's legs sending it careening directly into Judd's swing, as his hammer slams into it's sternum. The blow lifts it up off it's feet, and though the thing remains standing it hacks up an unhealthy amount of it's green blood, clearly having taken a large amount of damage. Celen and the creature continue to duel, when Marconis dashes in with his sickle, managing to catch the creature in it's side. Continuing to distract the thing, Celen seems adept at warding off it's many blows, and the creature clearly can't keep up it's assault forever. Dion manages to finish off the creature clinging to him, sending his arm blades crossing into it's body. With another swift strike, Dion lashes out at the weapon wielding creature facing off against Judd, bursting several of the tumors along it's body. DM Rolls:
The weapon-wielding creature will trip over Judd's shield, sending it's attack veering wildly off course. It's breathing is incredibly ragged, and it just glares at Judd as if it's hate alone would be enough to kill him. The creature facing Celen manages to squeeze in a lucky blow, the armor that was fouling his spells now the only thing preventing the thing's long claws from tearing through his throat.
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