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Ameiko stares blankly at the strange man in front of her. She had only met him through his companions very recently, and seemed quite reluctant to speak to him. Even with Crokus there, someone she had met a few times now, she wasn't willing to speak of it.

"What happens between me and my father is our business friend. I know you mean no harm by it, but for now, please give me the room I need to clean and get some rest."

It seems that is all there is to it, and so the party breaks up for the evening.

****

The next morning is a late one for all but Ira. The monk woke very refreshed, and snuck back into his own rooms in the wee hours of the morning. By the time the others of his party had roused themselves from the late evening of food, wine and in some cases women, it was late morning.

The breakfast that day was not up to the usual standards of the Rusty Dragon. It seemed as if leftovers from the previous day had been thrown together to form some type of soup the locals called Scrumpy. The bread was fresh though, and the water clear and clean. Barely any of the nobles had arisen yet, including Lady Nessa, who had merely groaned pleasurably and stretched languidly before rolling over and returning to sleep when Raimos left her. Ameiko was not to be seen though, apparently deciding to remain in her rooms this morning.

The repast was interrupted by a presence suddenly appearing at their shoulder. It was one of the younger town guards, a lad barely out of his teens and with a slight beard to show for his age. He stood nervously in front of the Heroes of Sandpoint, waiting for them to acknowledge him before speaking. "Gentlemen, the Lord Mayor Deveron and Sheriff Hemlock would have words with please. They request your presence at the town hall within the hour."

He stood there, waiting for a response.

The older mans face pales considerably as both the orc and the half blood step up to him.

He took a step back, visibly shaken before a small amount of courage comes to the fore again. Staring straight at Crokus he snarled "You! It was you and your friends and all your type that causes such woes as this town has suffered. Why don't you vagabonds just leave this place!"

Ameiko, freed from her fathers clutch, threw the liquid contents of her glass into his face. She was livid with rage and shame and whatever words she spoke were loaded with hatred.

The old mans face went blank at her words. He stared through Ameiko, as if she were suddenly dead to him. "You would rather throw your lot with such as these, then so be it. I have no daughter!"

With that, he turned and stormed from the room, leaving the stunned guests to stare after him.

Ameiko slumped against the bar, the energy seemingly sapped from her fully. "I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, but that's the evening done. If you'll please wrap up your drinks and make your way to you rooms, I'll see to cleaning up."

The party was done
*******

I'll post tomorrow morning with events for the next day. Feel free to post questions or your interractions for that scene if you wish to do anything before retiring for the evening.

The party was starting to wind down as the night dragged its way towards midnight.

Lord Foxglove, quite inebriated, had come to find Ira, and was now lamenting the young Monk had retired early to his rooms. He was talking to another young Lord, (the one whom Crokus had mistakenly insulted earlier that day), and was esposing the teachings of the monks god and how his unarmed techniques were "amazing to behold". All the while the young Lord was holding him upright and nodding in sympathy, while Ogling one of the serving girls.

Raimos had somehow managed to disappear as the evening wore on as well. It was only after Zair noted that Lady Nessa was also conspiculously absent that he came to understand what had happened. The strange Inquisitor hoped his bardic friend wouldn't land himself into too much trouble. It seemed one of the other Lords, a local man by name of Titus, had also noted the ladies absence and was none too pleased. Still, none of them were bothering Zair and Crokus.

When the door to the Rusty Dragon flew open, it caught everyone's attention. The cold night air swept in, causing goose bumps across the flesh and flickering the candles at the tables.

A tall man stood in the doorway, his clothes clearly those of a rich man. His face was livid with anger, flushed red around the cheeks and his almond eyes bulging with barely repressed rage. His skin colour, the cut of his hair and the thinly cut mustache clearly put him as a foreigner. When he yelled into the room, his accent was also thick.

"Where is my daughter!!" his words boomed across the general chatter that was still occurring. "Where is Ameiko, who should be home tending to the family business instead of acting the Harlot in an establishment such as this." His tone and the way he dismissively indicated the building told volumes of what he thought of the inn.

He caught sight of Ameiko then, standing at the bar with a bottle of expensive spirits in hand. Her face was pale, and a look of mixed horror and anger was crossing her face. The man's words slipped into a foreign tongue that neither inquisitor nor barbariab could understand. His tone hadn't changed though, and it was clear he was berating the owner of the establishment with his full wrath. As he spoke, he began to stride across the room towards his daughter, pushing through the gathered guests and ignoring the comments of "I say!", and "Really, the rudeness!".

He reached Ameiko and grabbed her physically by the arm, looking to drag her from the tavern immediately, while the shocked nobles and servants stood watching.

Only Crokus and Zair are able to witness this event and act accordingly. Ira is currently sleeping at the house of blue stones, and Raimos is indisposed with young Lady Nessa of Magnimar (a rather pleasant young lass who was no stranger to the pleasures of the boudoir it seemed).

Aldern gingerly picked himself up off the ground and made his way over to the dead beast and his erstwhile companions.

"By Gorum, what strength!" he stated in awe. He looked somewhat drunk, and his fine clothing was soiled by the fall into the loam and grass. However, a broad grin showed upon his face as he realised his group was he first to slay a beast, and a very sizeable one at that.

Zair was watching the forest intently, so he was the first to see the four beaters returning to the site. The men looked dirty and tired, and one of them carried his arm as if it pained him. It seemed these were definitely the cause of the boars wild flight.

While the party dressed and trussed their kill, and Augie cleaned up the various bits of blood and brains, Lady Nessa rode back to the them. She seemed none the worse for wear, but her tone towards Raimos had cooled somewhat. It was clear by her look and some of the words she spoke that she had expected the man to ride off after her, and "rescue" her. In fact, Raimos at least suspected she may have let the horse have its head rather than have lost control as it first appeared.

Within half an hour, the other three groups had also returned. Each group had managed to bag wild game, but nothing as impressive as what remained of the boar Crokus and Ira had slain. Pheasants, rabbit goose and wild boar were on the menu tonight it seemed.

******

The fire roared in the Rusty Dragon that evening. Ameiko had done a superb job roasting the boar and the other game, though she had berated the party for destroying the head of the animal as she couldn't present it properly now.

Around the inn, people were laughing merrily and many were quite drunk. The nobles had hired the entire place, and were supplying their men and themselves with the best that Ameiko could offer. Spirits, wine and ale were flowing freely, and the food was plentiful. The cool spring breeze coming in off bay couldn't tough them in here.

The four men were the toast of the party initially, but before long people had closed to groups of their own, as is the norm in any party that runs for long enough. So it was that the four adventurers found themselves sitting at a quiet table, near the fire and the food, enjoying a moment with just themselves.

Well, grats on levelling. Let me know how you want to spend the evening. Crokus, no half orcs here sorry to say. Raimos, you could try patching things with Lady Nessa. You're fairly sure she'd be very receptive if you played your cards right. Ira and Zair, up to you two I guess.

The boars head exploded under the vicious assault, its brain case cracking and spraying blood and gore over both Ira and Crokus. The creatures body fell instantly, its legs shaking somewhat as they tried to catch up with the fact the head was no longer sending signals.

A flock of birds flew up and into the air, their long tails and colourful plumage showing they were pheasants, but everyone was still staring at the horrific carnage that Crokus had wrought upon the boar.

There was a clatter of wood and metal and a dull thump as Aldern Foxglove tumbled from his horse, finally losing the battle to control the beast and wield the spear at the same time. Beyond him, Lady Nessa's horse continued to bolt, her screams growing fainter as she went.

The hunt, it seemed, was over.

If Raimos isn't inspiring courage, feel free to remove the +1.

no, that was my bad I believe. His intention was pretty clear, id just forgotton some details over the last few days. I should remember to re read posts before I update.

On that note, you need to read my edited entry above. Crokus is hurting pretty bad right now.

The moment the boar burst from the forest the party reacted.

Raimos had been ramping up for this moment, and his voice soared into a crescendo as soon as it happened. The fighters and nobles around him felt themselves lifted to greater feats of battle prowess as his trained voice inspired them.

Crokus rushed into the beast and swung his mighty hammer. Only the added rhythm of Raimos' tune allowed him to pull the move off though. The blunted head of the weapon thudded with a satisfying crunch into the boars side and it screamed in pain, thrashing its head from side to side.

Raimos readied his bow and fired, but the fear of hitting his now too close orkish companion meant the arrow flew wide into the trees. Beside him, Augie had stiffened and the hackles on his neck were raised. It was testamount to how well

edit - lost this half way through when key board died. tried again on ipad and lost the second half to time lag

Augie stayed by the bards side despite clearly wanting to attack.

The boar attacked at random, slashing its tusks hoping to kill the things causing so much pain.

odds is crokus, evens is Ira 1d6 ⇒ 3

fort save vs stun 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16. attack1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21, damage 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Lady Nessa screamed when she saw the blood from Crokus' massive wound. Her mare was startled and bolted suddenly, dragging the screaming noblewoman away over the fields.

Aldern proved no more efficient, nearly dropping his spear and running his horse into Iras mount beside him.

Some of you guys are trying too much at once here. Zair can't dismount, arm himself and then move in one round (especially since getting a shield ready is an action).

Raimos, bardic performance is a standard action so you can't do that and shoot at the same time.

I get the feeling that I may have confused you with the description. The perception meant you weren't surprised when the boar burst out. It didn't give you a surprise round sorry.

As to bardic performance helping Crokus - it can't this round, as your initiative is after his. However next round, he is both inspired and flanking. That will make a fair difference I think

edit - Raimos, on reading through your last post it seems as if you were readying an action to cast bardic performance. It seems clear when I read the descriptive text, but not when you ooc your actions. Can I ask that you spell that out in future please? It will make all the difference in running complex fights.

im allowing the bardic performance to be up for start of combat, so Crokus hits

cheers

The group heard it coming before they saw it. A squealing and thrashing through the shrubs and tree line of Tickwood, and then an amazingly large ball of muscle, tusk and fur burst forth. The boar was bigger than any farm pig would grow. An older male, its tusks yellowed with age and one cracked from ancient combat.

The creature was incensed at the noises that had frightened it from the woodslands, and the sudden bright light made it even angrier. Its beady eyes focused on the nearest target and the creature charged, head down and tusks ready for the attack.

Initiative for the boar 1d20 ⇒ 7

The ride was pleasant for the most part. Raimos managed to make himself quite a few new friends amongst the hob nobs of Sandpoint. His natural wit and charm, and his ability to recite the popular epics of the time had managed to turn what could have been a very awkward trip into something else entirely.

Crokus had put his foot in it almost immediately, commenting that one of the nobles reminded him of his mother, which was doubly insulting since it turned out the effeminate noble had actually been a young man of particularly interesting stature. Ira had merely played the part of silent witness, deferring to his companions whenever necessary, and Zair had made it quite clear that if anyone was to talk to him, he would place scorn and possibly violence upon them. The combination of those three had almost led to disaster, but Raimos really did turn out to be a godsend in this instance.

When they finally arrived at Tickwood, the location for their hunt, the nobles were well into their third bottle of brandy liqueur. Spirits were high, but tongues were also becoming less well guarded. It was deemed that the party should split into hunting groups, and a wager was placed on who's party would bag the finest catch of the day. Three of the nobles openly placed scorn upon Raimos' companions, and refused to have anything to do with them, so in the end it was the four friends, Aldern Foxglove and a Lady Nessa De'mur who were teamed together. The lady had taken a very strong shine to young Raimos, and was riding exceedingly close to the handsome bard now. She had probably had more than her share of wine too.

With that decided, the hunting party separated into four groups and rode around the edge of the woods, separating themselves over a good mile or so of terrain. Aldern rose his hand, and one of his own men raised a horn to his mouth and blew a long note. This was the signal for the hunt to begin.

There was much whooping from the nobles, but unexpectedly, none of them moved. Instead, the four footmen that had accompanied each group sighed a little disconsolately and dismounted. Each of them grabbed a large drum and walked into the woods. After a few moments, the sound of beating drums could be heard throughout the woods, seemingly circling away from the group before winding its way back towards the party.

"Hah! Soon my friends, the beasts of this wood shall pour into our waiting arms, ready for us to slay them for the feast. Great sport what!" Aldern slurred a little as he spoke. His mount had managed to close a little closer to Ira's and he slipped the monk a conspiratorial wink. "Nothing you can't handle though Ira, eh? Why I reckon you won't even need to boar spears we bought with us to the hunt. Not with a body honed for combat such as yours eh?" It was the third such comment the noble had made on the trip, and it was becoming a little irksome.

Raimos of course hadn't escaped his own nobles attentions. Lady Nessa moved in close to him, her horse pressing so close that her thighs pressed against Raimos' own leg. She leaned over, as if to whisper something about the hunt, but what she asked him was a question usually reserved for the Calistrian priestesses or the Red houses of town. Apparently nobles weren't backwards in coming forwards, especially when they were drunk.

Ok, I need perception checks please. Also an initiative. At the moment you're all mounted, but you can dismount if you want before anything comes from the woods.

The next post from me will be a fight with whatever comes out of those woods. You're all currently 20 feet from the tree line, on horses that won't shy from a wild animal but are not combat trained. The ground around you is open grassland, but uneven ground. You can charge etc, but if forced to make reflex or acrobatic checks around here, a natural 1 means you've rolled an ankle or stuck your foot in a rabbit hole etc. That will impede movement a bit. cheers

Also, feel free to post responses about the trip before you put in your actual rolls. I put some interesting things in there for some of you to respond to hehe.

The two days seemed to fly past. Each member of the party passed the time in their own way, making themselves at home amongst the peoples of Sandpoint.

By the morning of the third day in town, they were ready for their hunting trip with Lord Aldern Foxglove. When they arrived at the Rusty dragon that morning, the sight that greeted them was somewhat...chaotic at best. Men dressed in various liveries where holding horses or hounds. Some stood polishing weapons and even more were waiting with what seemed packs of provisions to be taken on the trip. For experienced travellers such as Ira, Raimos and Crokus, it looked more like an incursion or travelling party set for long term exploration rather than a mornings hunting.

When Aldern saw them, he called a greeting and asked them over to the group of men and women he was standing with. He introduced them as various nobles from the region, and one or two from Magnimar that had travelled to town for the festival as well. Each of these people greeted the adventurers in their own way, but you feel the tension in the air. It seemed that some form of political debate had been going on before the party arrived, and now the nobles stood in small groups, factioned off in sections of common belief.

This trip was going to be more than just killing boars it seemed. Every one of the small group who had banded together to fight the goblins three days before realised that their every action and word was being watched by some powerfully rich people. A wrong word here could be more disastrous than a broken weapon in combat.

Ok, You'll need to make some diplomacy checks during this trip to see how well you do in the presence of nobles. Additionally, some skills such as nobility, history, geography or religion may serve you well here. Kn local as well to get a grip on local politics. These people are more impressed with knowledge and refined minds than they are with muscle. They have any number of hired muscle they can call on, but skilled folk with keen minds are not so common.

After what seemed an eternal walk through the burial grounds, the small group found themselves once again in the temple of Sandpoint. Father Zantus looked tired when they approached him. The long night spent healing the injured of the township, and the equally long morning dealing with teh fallout of the attack had taken its toll on Sandpoints head priest.

When they mentioned the despoiled tomb, he sighed and told them that particular crypt belonged to the old head priest of the township. He and his daughter had died in the very fire that had claimed the old shurch itself. Yesterdays festival had been as much to remember he and his daughter, and a number of others whp had died that year in a brutal series of mruders. The celebration and reopening of the church was meant to put those times of trouble firmly in the past and allow the township to move onwards.

He seemed worried that someone seemed to have deliberately targetd the old priests crypt and stolen his remains. He was doubly worried that such a powerful artefact as the robe of bones would be used and then casually tossed aside. Someone with power had acted at the graveyard.

The sheriff could shed no more light on the subject. He had no idea about arcane matters and the fact no goblins had been found bode well for the man.

Both church and guard paid the party for their efforts though, providing each group member 10gold in total (5 from the sheriff and 5 from Zantus). All up it had been a profitable venture, though rahter painful for Crokus.

Ok, 10 gold to each of you. See OOC thread for what's next

Having inspected the robe, Zair determined it was a necromantic item commonly known as a robe of bones. These garments carried the bones of slaughtered victims who's skeletons then be brought forth through magic to fight for whomever had used the cloak. This one seemed to have been completely used and apparentky tossed aside when done so.

Ira' s amazing abilty to see detail found two things. A small patch of green cloak had caught in the stone of the coffins lid. The material was of very fine quality, and hadn't torn easily. Whoever had worn it certainly had been forced to drag the cloak free in their hurry to leave.

Additionally, he found a small sign of whomever had been buried in this place. The remains of the stone lid had little that could be read, but the monk did find a detailed sigil of the goddess of luck. It was more than just an icon that would be placed for a follower, The craftsmanship was superb, likley costing more than a few gold pieces alone to be crafted. That it had survived the destruction of the name plate was extremely lucky.

Apart from this information, there was nothing more to be found in this location.

It was time to return to father Zantus and the sheriff.

The room within the vault seems to have been thoroughly ransacked. The goblins had taken liberties to splatter paints and other, more foul stains across the effigies to Desna inside the place.

Someone had shifted the stone lid off the coffin inside and it took only the briefest of looks to determine that whomever had been buried there was no longer resting there. The remains of the departed had been completely removed. The plaque above the door and the stone carving upon the coffin itself had been destroyed too. Meticulously. Short of magically repairing them, there was no way read who was buried here.

To the side of the room, a black satin cloak had been tossed carelessly. It seemed to be made of many small pockets or patches, all of which were empty and torn. Sigils of skulls and other symbols of the necromatic arts adorned the cloak, and it felt chill to the touch.

Surpisingly, despite the damage to the place, nothing but the remains inside the coffin had been taken.

The two skeletons that the group had fought dissolved to so much bone dust and ash after a few moments. Even the rusted mail they had been wearing had vanished.

Ok, whatever skills or spells you have to help work this out. Go for it

Despite bleeding profusely from the jagged scratches, Crokus manages to bring his hammer to bear. The weapons metal head crushed ribs, driving the spine sidewards and causing the upper body to tumble and collapse upon the floor.

As suddenly as it had started, the combat was over.

I'll do some more tomorrow morning. Or maybe later tonight. Combat is done, it's just some problem solving now :)

The skeleton in front of Crokus exploded into shards of bone as the big warrior brought his hammer to bear. The Orc's face was split in a toothy grin as he turned to see if Ira had witnessed his prowess.

Now that the danger was lessened, Zair moved in and unlatched the second door, giving him clear space to face teh second skeleton. As he moved, more of his body became visisble, highlighting to his new companions why he felt it necissary to go about heavily cloaked.

Ita ignored them both. He stepped up next to Zair, trying to finish off the second skeleton but was hampered by both the others in his party and the the doorframe itself.

Completely ignorant of the other skeletons demise, the remaining set of bones clawed at the armoured for of Crokus, desperate to end his life in a welter of blood.

Skeleton makes two attacks as a full attack action. 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21. Damage 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3. Second attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15, Damage 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

The skeletons clacked forwards as rapidly as possible, their mouths open in what would be a scream of rage, if tehy'd had vocal chords.

Using the claws of their ony hands, they raked at the big ORc blocking the doorway, trying to slash and tear his life away. Whatever force had animated these long dead things, it certainly didn't like the living.

Skeles charge 10 feet. One is attacking directly into Crokus so no cover. The other is attacking from next to the closed door. This provides cover for both Crokus and it.

Skelton one attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11 Damage 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6. Skelton 2 attack (Crokus has cover vs this) 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16, Damage 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Despite their aggressive tactics, neither skeleton lands a blow.

Raimos, not knowing how dangerous nor how many of teh animated dead their were inside, began to chant a battle hym he remeberd from years before. The magic of words infused his friends with vogour and might.

Ok, Raimos has started Inspire for you lot.

The door to the Vault slmmed into the doorframe before swinging back outwards. The heavy wood nearly clocked the scarred Orc on the face before he ducked aside when he realised which way it swung.

The light of teh day streamed into the vault, lighting upon a pair of skeletal figures that turned at the disturbance. Dry bone clacked as the creatures moved forwards, rushing towards the door to intercept the living beings that had come upon their domain.

Skeletons initiative 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

See ooc thread for details

The group were amazingly efficient at quartering and searching the graveyard. Within minutes, they had come across a series of tracks leading from the rear wall of the place. Zair, who seemed to have some skill in tracking, could tell a number of goblins were responsible. More disturbing was they appeared to be accompanied by a man sized humanoid wearing boots. While the Goblin's tracks were haphazard and diesctructive (seemingly going out of their way to crush vegeataion or to kick and scuff tombestones) the humanoid's tracks were far more discrete and a little difficult to follow. Whome ever it was had made some attempt to be discrete but hadn't a lot of success in concealing the tracks.

They followed them through the cemetary into the richer quarter, amongst some of the vaults and mausoleums. One of the vaults had clearly been tampered with. Its heavy doors were slightly ajar, and the tracks led both in and out of the tomb. Something moved within the vault, bumping slightly against the stone of the walls. Whatever it was couldn't be seen through the crack in the door, at least not unless it was opened wider.

Ira (Knowledge History results)

As a group, you couldn't have picked a more motley crew. The men moved with much noise, and surprisingly, much singing, into the burial grounds of Sandpoint.

Around them stood the monuments and markers for the dearly departed. A mixture of old headstones, wooden crosses and elaborate tombs clearly showed the varience of wealth within the town. Given how long this site had served as a township, and a gypsey settlement before even that, it wasn't surprising that the graveyard itself was quite significant.

In the hours of mid morning, it seemed peaceful enough. Of course, if goblins were present, then their dislike for bright lights and the fact they had been driven from town the night before would mean they weren't likely to be found in the open. It was time to do some searching.

Ok, there are 4 basic quarters to the graveyard. Each one requires a perception to search for signs of damage etc, or a survival to track goblin movements in the place. I have a DC in mind, so when your group makes a collective roll high enough to beat that, then something turns up. Depending on how well you beat it will determine how long it takes to find. In other words, if each of you can roll up to 4 perception or survival checks pleaseplease, I'll update after that.

Belor stares blankly for a minute before continuing, completely failing to see any humour in the event. "Right then boyos, Father Zantus was told about the goblins plans this morning, and he's asked for some people to go check it out. He has accolytes and such, but the folk in the church have their hands very full with injured and berieved at the moment. Plus arrangements for funerals. You lads go and see him and let him know I sent you. I feel you're more than capable, and if it turns out some of the little buggers are still there, I can pay well for you to clear them out."

With that, the sheriff turned back to his map of sandpoint and the work he had been doing before the three men entered.

The trip up the hill was a little surprising for the three of them. Twice they were approached by people in the street and offered thanks for what they did yesterday. Each time the thanks was offered, Crokus was avoided a little, but he seemed to still be included in general. More amazing was the way they occasionally caught groups of folk staring at them and whispering and smiling. Apparently killing some goblins in town meant something in these parts.

They finally arrived at the grand entrance to the newly opened church. The building showed no signs of damage from the raid, but the banners and bunting that decorated the area yesterday were gone. Outside, two young accolytes were talking with townsfolk as they arrived, organising the small crowd into priorities as they made their cases heard. Most of them were inquiring after loved ones, but some it seemed were seeking handouts from the church, to aid them for the damages caused in the raid.

AS the group arrived, the two accolytes looked at each and then bowed a little. "Welcome, friends. The high priest has sent word that if any of you three were to arrive, that you were to be sent straight through."

This was met with a few cries of dismay or outrage from the crowd, but the two young priests quickly began to deal with this as the party made their way inside.

The sounds of injured and the low hum of prayers could be heard throughout the building. People moved about with purpose, carrying foods stuffs and fresh linen. It was quickly apparent that the prayers of the priests were obviously outside the means of payment for many folk in town, so more traditional methods of healing were being employed. It seemed Abadar had some sway in this church, as much as Desna was the main religion.

They came across Father Zantus in the main auditorium, involved in a firm conversation with a strange looking priest of some type. The man was dressed in heavy cloak and travellers garb, concealing his features at first, but there was an unearthly glow coming from beneath the hood and something odd about the way cloak hung around his body. Almost as if it had shapes to conceal that were not entirely human.

Zantus turned an exasperated expression towards the trio as they entered, and forced himself to relax into a smile.

"Ah gentlemen. I am so very glad to see you here. It is rare we find men of such courage and talent in the westlands, and what you three did for us yesterday cannot be taken lightly. I was hoping you would come, and wished to offer you council and reward for your services, but today sees me somewhat overwhelmed. We have an issue in the graveyards, and now this ...fine gentleman, has called to offer services as well. It seems Desna plays her hand even now. That the three of you should arrive even as this gentleman has seems somewhat prtentious, don't you think."

He looked at them, then continued in somewhat of a hurry. "We have heard the goblins raided the graveyard last night. To what end we don't know yet, for I haven't had time nor men to go through and check. It concerns me they may have defiled the place, and I need it checked to see if any thing of their feral nature remains. Of course, discretion and respect is of the utmost value here. These are the resting places of Sandpoints departed. I would ask that this fellow of the cloth joins you in checking the graveyard for. You three have proven more than capable, and this man is one who should understand the correct manner in which to treat a place of teh dead. Would the four of you undertake this venture, then I cna truly put my mind to rest and will better be able to offer some assistance you for the aid you supplied to Sandpoint last night."

This is Zair's intro. It's also a chance to interract with him from your perspectives. From here, its into the graveyard for a quick investigation.

Ira

The morning passes in pleasent conversation. Aldern is a witty man whom treats the men with respect and regails them with tales of Magnimar and his plans on restoring his families old holdings in the area.

Breakfast is superb, easily as good as the lunch that was provded during yesterdays celebrations. Foxeglove pays for everything, happily indulging in the others need for mead and any other want. By the end of the meal, he too is a little red faced from drinking the lite whine that he seems to prefer.

Both Crokus and Raimos approach the counter to seek lodging for the day and night. Ameiko greets the one with a smile and the other with a slight nod, and then states simply "All morning I've heard nothing but reports from my regulars on how you three fought your way through the golbin hordes in order to hold the north gate. For folks such as you, I offer you free board for the week."

"The West Coast is in need of people with such bravery." She turns her full attention to Raimos then and smiles impishly as she continues "I almost feel it nothing short of my official duty to see you well bedded".

With lodgings secured, a room for each, the group can easily store their gear and spend the rest of teh morning selling their wares.

See OOC for sales stuff

Having finished the errands, they agree to meet with the Sheriff and discuss the raid on the graveyard that was mentioned during teh interrogation the night before.

Belor Hemlock looked exceptionally tired when they approached. He was grumpy and now sported a bandage around his left arm, having finally had time to get an injury from the raid seen to. He looked up as the party entered and nodded his greeting. "You boys here to help some more, cause Desna knows we could use the blades.?"

Ameiko stares cooly at the scarred Orc, seemingly ready to respond with sharp words. However, Raimos' quick thinking and his eloquent manner with women manage to save the day. The lovely woman turns a radient smile on the man, making sure that Crokus is completely cut from her vision as she does so.

"You aren't the first man to think that, handsome. No, I am of Tianese descent. My family travelled across the Northlands by caravan many years ago to settle in Sandpoint, and now here I am."

Her smile turns a little impish as she continues to flirt with the bard. "I am afraid teh pleasures of your tongue will need to wait, dear Raimos. I must see to my customers and set the meals for teh day. Perhaps tonight the pair of us could perform together. I have a way with my hands that can make an instrument thrum, between the two of us we could tell a tale or two I'm sure."

With that, she swaggers away to get drinks and breakfast for the group.

Foxglove had watched the entire event with an amused smile upon his face. "Ha, my friend Raimos, careful with that one. She knows how to play the game my friend, and it seems she has taken you for a player as well."

"Now, I was wondering. If you genlemen are planning on staying longer in town, I am planning a hunting trip into the Tickwoods sometime in the next few days. I have asked a few of the local lords to accompany me and my footmen to see if we cannot bag one of the wonderous boars the local hunters brag about in these parts. Seeing as how you gentlemen have done me teh greatest of services, it would be my honour to ask you as my guests on this hunt, and to introduce to the people of note in town. Would you accompany me my friends?"

While he was asking everyone at the table, he was mostly facing Ira. It seemed as if the nobleman had taken the quiet and serious monk as a somewhat leader of the group.

Hemlock seemed troubled by the thought of someone organising and working with the goblins. "Its bad enough we have tribes of them in the forests and marshes, now we have to contend with them working together too."

His brow had furrowed at the news, and now he paced the room trying to think it through. Outside, the sounds of the cleanup from the evenings disaster continued. Eventually the big Shoanti sighed and looked at the three men who had assisted the twon so ably during the fight. "I think the graveyard can be checked in the light of day lads. Tonight we need to make sure the goblins are gone from the township proper and that all those who are injured are tended. We have to move the dead off the streets and we'll need men to keep watch on the entrances to town in case the little buggers rally and come back. Who knows how many there are out there, and if someone is commanding them, then they could return."

He asked them to assist, if they were willing. In the end, it wasn't really a choice. None of the establishments in town were available at any rate, since everyl able bodied person was out assiting cleanup. It was a long night for all in the township, and certainly marred what had been an excellent festival.

*****

The next morning broke with clear skys and a magnificent sunrise over the chalk hills in the east. The people in these frontier lands were hardy, and practical. While the events of the goblin raid had been terrifying, and in some cases traic, the majority of the township had already moved on and life was continuing as normal.

Boats plied their trade in the harbour, nets and long lines harvesting the sea for its bounty. The smell of fresh bread and the sound of smithy filled the air, and eventually Sandpoint came to life.

The three travellers found themselves at last in the rooms of the Rusty Dragon inn. The smell of cooking filled the place, and the woman behind the counter was an exotic beauty. Her eyes slanted upwards like an elf, yet her ears betrayed no such heritage. Her skin was a yellwoish tan, and the hint of a long tattoo could be seen on her right shoulder, looking like it may spiral onto her back. This was Ameiko Kaijitsu, and she was the owner of the tavern.

The three of tehm were welcomed as heros when they entered the establishment, though Crokus was still given some guarded looks as he walked across to the table where Aldern Foxglove sat.

The nobleman had changed into even more expensive clothing today. He wore necklaces and rings made of the finest gold and the rapier at his side was of masterwork craftmnship. It was obviously for display only though, given his performance during the battle last night.

When the men approached him, he looked up from his meal and beamed a huge smile at them. Shaking each of their hands, holding Ira's perhaps a little longer than the others. "Gentlemen, thank you for coming. You saved my life last night and I wanted to thank you personally. Please have a seat, let us talk."

He waved at Ameiko, who sauntered across to the table and took their orders, slipping a wink at Raimos as she spoke to him. "Perhaps we could hear a tale or two from you later sirrah. Rumour has it you are gifted with your tongue, and I would like to find out the truth of the matter." She smiled, then walked away to gather the drinks and meals for the men.

Ok, Aldern offers a reward of 20 gold each, and an invitation to sop at his townhouse in Magnimar when next you pass that way. He has more to say and offer, but you'll need to roleplay for that part. Please slip into character to ask any questions of the man.

Also, Kn. Geography can discern Ameiko's geritage, though most of you probably know it already. A Diplomacy check of DC5 can also just get someone to tell you where she's from.

Raimos, you can make a Sense Motive check too, for the little chat Ameiko had with you there.

Having tied up the two goblins, the three men were deciding what to do when the nobleman they had just saved ran over to them. His face was flushed with relief and gratitude, and he almost stammered over his words as he offered each man his hand and showered them with praise.

"Gentleman, I cannot begin to thank you enough. Please, when this all calms down and we have time to meet properly, seek me at the Rusty Dragon. My name is Aldern Foxglove, and if you ask after me I shall come and offer you proper recompense for what you achieved today."

He looked ready to burst, his enthusiasm was so strong. "Again, I cannot thank you enough."

With that, he ran off into the night, seemingly seeking someone or somtheing.

Ira began to look for injured to assist with, while Crokus and Raimos where wondering how information would be available from their prisoners.

Neither task had too long of a wait. Father Zantus began to round up able bodied folk to assist with moving injured to the temple for treatment, and to clear the bodies for proper burial, or burning in the case of the goblins.

Sheriff Hemlock took charge of the prisoners and was more than willing to let the group who had captured them assist in the questioning. The Sheriff seemed furious. He had lost five men in the attack, most of them killed in the initial chaos and surprise. What's more, many of the townsfolk had behaved erratically and in complete panick. This wasn't something he had seen since the the trouble times a few years back, and it angered him how quickly the township had fallen apart in disarray.

All this he told while pushing and shoving his goblin captives towards the barracks in the centre of town. He was not a happy man.

Ok, I'll post in occ thread now for loot plus summaries of info discovered from questioning the goblins. This doesn't require social rolls from any of you, since Belor Hemlock has your captives plus some others. He's very good at getting info from prisoners, so all of this becomes available to you whether you would have passed or failed a social skill roll. Something to note for mechanics discussion

Crokus swipes at the dancing goblin before him, but fails to land a blow. He could feel the strong ale the half orcs had plied him with beginning to churn in his stomach too. Strenuous activity after a heavy days drinking and eating were never a good mix.

He watched as the creatures eyes glazed over, the effects of his friends spell preventing it attacking him back. It brought a smile to his scarred face.

Ira snapped two successive blows into the goblin bosses face. He didn't needto second punch though. The first one had struck the things nose with enough force to crack the facial bones and push shards of bone into the primitive brain controlling the thing. It stood erect for a moment, body convulsing in reflexive reaction to its synapses severing and dying. Then it toppled heavily to the ground.

The sound of snoring goblin filled the square, and somewhere in the background the terrified cries of the townsfolk had been replaced with the desperate cries of fleeing goblinoids.It seemed as if the attack on Sandpoint had been pushed back.

Already people were poking their heads out of windows, looking down at the three newcomers who had taken on the defense of the upper town and defeated three savage groups of the goblin kin. It looked as if they had even managed to catch one or two of the little ferals as well.

For all intents and purposes, combat is over. You can capture the sleeping one easily. You can chose to capture the dazed one as well, a simple grapple will do it. Or you can kill it. A simple bonk on the head will do that.

I'll update more tonight when I've finished work. Including loot. I'll not be doling out XP. I'll just level you at appropriate intevals during the adventure. Cheers

Ira attacked with fist and foot, but none of his blows managed to land on the goblin. The creature was too well armoured and agile this time.

It became a moot point though, for Raimos again enacted his enchanting magics and the creature seemed to take on a dazed look. It was certainly unable to swing its horrid looking weapon this time, which could prove extremely beneficial to the monk. A solid blow from that weapon wold be nasty indeed.

Crokus was finally feeling more himself. He splattered the brains of one the goblins across the cobbled courtyard before turning to face the last enemy.

The little goblin seemed about ready to flee but then glanced across and saw its boss still standing. Taking courage, he swung with his rusty blade, hoping to bleed this ugly orc in front of him. Goblins were notoriously stupid, and this one had taken the dazed look on his bosses face for something like determination, rather than confusion.

Goblin attacking Crokus 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8, Damage 1d4 ⇒ 4

Raimos intoned his magic once again, sending a sleepy haze over the nearby goblins. As the magic settled over them like a warm blanket, the three greenskins wobbled a little, their legs seeming to sway in time to a mothers gentle rocking. One of teh creatures swayed a little too far and toppled to the ground, proceeding to curl into a ball and cuddle its sword and shield. The other two shook their heads and turned to see what was making all the noise.

The noise was Crokus. The huge Orc rushed across the square and smashed his hammer into the head of the dog like creature. The hammer blow was glancing, but it was enough to fell the fell the beast into a twitching mass of legs and rat tail.

The goblin riding the animal cried out and leapt free, rolling with the momentum and comng to his feat. He turned with a snarl, intending to hit the big barbarian that had killed his mount but instead got punched in the face by a running Ira. It was a solid blow too, knocking a few of the goblins teeth out and spinning him almost completely.

Yet, this champion was made of sturner stuff than his compatriots. It swung the long handled chopper two handed, scribing a wide arc and trying to bring it to bear on the monk who had hit him.

Goblin commando attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9, damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

The creature was seriously staggerd from the punch though, and its attack went well wide of the mark. Now combat had joined, it was better prepared to face this human again.

The two goblins who were still standing after Raimos' spell ignored the bard, choosing to rush the big barbarian with the huge hammer. The boss seemed to have the other longshanks in hand, though he doing some sort of wierd wobble step they took to be a fancy combat maneuvre.

Two goblins charging Crokus from 20 feet. G1 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11, damage 1d4 ⇒ 2. G2 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16, damage 1d4 ⇒ 1.

Conveniently, all three of you beat my goblins again. So you all get to act before them and act together.

The group rushed towards the sound of the screaming man, with Ira pulling ahead of the Drunken orc and the human bard. As they rounded the buildings leading to the main gate, they could see a vicious fight between a well armed goblin riding upon some hairless rat like creature, and a well muscled and well bread mastiff hound. Even as they watched though, the goblin got the better of the mastiff, using his mount to position himself behind the dog and slice down through its neck.

A ragged cheer went up from a group of goblins that had been cowering behind barrels and crates near the main arch way. Now they emerged from their cover, all of them converging on a water barrel behind which a well dressed nobleman cowered and screamed. It was his voice they had heard.

You have a surprise round. Info on combat in the ooc thread.

With a show of will worthy of one who studied at the great monastery, Ira shrugged off the magical effects. He unleashed a rain of blows upon the goblin in front of him, killing it even as the other fled the square in terror.

Behind this tableau, Raimos desperately poked his weapon towards the goblin biting at his leg. The blade missed, but ws close enough to make the little green terror turn and flee into the shadows of town.

For a moment, all seemed still where these three stood. The battle seemed to have moved off further downtown, with the majority of the townsfolk seemingly fled to their homes.

The three companions caight their breath for the moment, surveying the carnage. They could see a number of dead goblins nearby, many seemingly dead from their own stupidity as they leapt from buildings to attack people or had inadvertently set themselves on fire.

Sadly, a few townsfolk also lay dead upon the ground, throats cut or limbs chewed by the voracious goblins.

Father Zantus rushed across to the three combatants, checking them for injury and seeing if they needed his services. "Where did they come from" he stammered, seemingly still overcoming the shock of the moment. "How did such creatures build up the courage to attack us here?"

The brief respite was shattered by the sound of a mans scream coming from near the northern gate area. The sounds of excited goblins suddenly erupted from that Rea also, and what sounded like a vicious dog fight could be heard above it all.

"Help me!" Screamed a male voice, terror quite clear in the tremor of the words. "Oh gods above, they're going to eat me!"

Crokus finally found his momentum. He smashed the goblin before him into a bloody smear, its broken body flying sideways a number of feet.

Having cleared some space with that opportune attack, he staggered forward into the warchanter, weaving a path around the combatants engaging Ira to avoid getting entangled in that brawl.

Again his hammer swung in a murderous arc, crushing ten warchanter into so much blood and gristle. The creatures body stuck to the beveled edge of his weapon and the the big Orc had to shake it a little to make sure the gruesome remains fell away.

Behind him, the goblins cried out in despair.

no need to worry about crit threat, since you killed it with your AoO before it could land a blow. Goblin chanter is well and truly dead now too. Goblins will flee if given a chance, but Raimos and Ira still to act before that happens.

The group of adventurers must have offended Desna somehow. The lady of luck was certainly not shining on them this day.

Crokus, still realing from the ale he had consumed this day, swung his hammer but missed heroically.

Ira danced between the two warriors and flailed at the Bardic goblin, but failed to land a blow.

Poor Raimos found the pain from the little goblins attack was too much and he lost focus on his spell. Whats more, he missed with his counter attack and now faced the little beast while he himself bled.

The goblins swarmed and surged, leaping about and gnashing with teeth as much as weapons. Realising the flaming brands weern' doing much, the ones engaging Ira dropped them and focused on using their slicers instead.

Goblins attacking Ira. One has moved to flank with the other warrior now since Raimos' spell failed to work. 1st attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22damage 1d4 ⇒ 2. Second 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 damage 1d4 ⇒ 4

The warchanter again stepped back, and now found itself pressed against teh flaming the wagon. The heat from the vehicle was growing more intense and the creature howled a little as the flames licked at its body. Heedless of this, the creature began to chant again, pointing at Ira and trying desperately to cause his magic to wash over the longshanks with the dangerous feet and hands. Wrachanter takes 3 flame damage from wagon. Concetration check to cast Hideous laughter while damaged 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22 vs DC 14.

With a great effort the Warchanter succeeded in ignoring the pain and finished his spell. A wave of uncontrollable laughter threatened to overcome Ira if he couldn't called on his innate will to throw off the magic. DC12 will save or suffer the ignonimity of Hideous laughter my friend

The goblin nearest Crokus stood shakily and tried to slash the big Orc. Crokus can make an AoO on the goblin as it stands. The benefits of going before it in the initiative order. Assuming it doesn't die then it attacks 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21. Damage 1d4 ⇒ 2

Raimos found his opponent was just as crazy and ravenous as the others. It leapt on him, gnashing with its teeth and trying to drive its slicer into the wound it had already caused.Attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13, damage1d4 ⇒ 2

Note all, goblin stats have changed a little to reflect that bardic performance from the Warchanter has now ended thanks to Ira breaking the Warchanters rithm.

New round, over to you guys. [ooc]Crokus, please make sure you track Rage, its gonna run out soon and this attack is far from over unfortunately.

Crokus ran drunkenly across the square, roaring in his bloodlust and shaking some of the drunkeness from his body. Unfortunately, it wasn't really enough. As his heavy boots trod over the cobbles, they hit a slick of blood and the big man toppled heavily into the cobbles. As he hit the ground, and audible woooof of air exploded from his lungs.

For a moment the antogonists all just stared incredulously at the almost comical sight....then the combat erupted anew.

Ira, realising the greater threat came from behind now, dashed across and landed a telling blow onto the face of the chanter. The monk hoped it was enough to stun the little bugger so it would stop singing that infernal song.

Fort save against stunnning fist 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13. Just a pass I believe.

Unfortunately, Ira had overbalanced in his rush across the cobbles and his blow was not as solid as he'd hope.

This left Raimos to deal with things. Chooising to ignore the last goblin from the initial encounter, the handsom bard began to chant a magical tune designed to lull the weak minded into sleep. He was careful not to effect his companions though, concerned about their ability to overcome the magic as well. Note that sleep is a full round action. It's effects will go off next round, then you can cast again. I'll rule that you can easily target 2 of the goblins once they're engaged. See ooc thread for more

With that, the goblins finally responded to the strange antics of the longshanks. The goblin who had his friends killed around him finally came out of his stupor. At first it looked as if he would flee, but then it caught sight of the goblin chanter across the square and its courage was renewed. Seeing the tall man nearby singing a strange song, the little creature raced across the square and tried to savage his legs with its slicer.

G1 attacking Raimos. Charges. 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16. Damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4. Nearly forgot its reflex for charging. 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

The other goblins also rushed in, trying to protect their leader.

2 goblins attack Ira, one rushes into Crokus. The one on crokus tries to charge. The chanter steps out of combat and casts a spell, healing itself.

2 attacks on ira. 1st using flaming torch1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14, damage 1d2 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3+1 fire. second using flaming torch 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8, damage 1d2 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1+1 fire.

Attack on Crokus. Reflex to avoid slipping. 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6. Fails so no attack. Both of you are now lying prone and staring into each others face wih a look of surprise. hehe.

Goblin Save vs daze 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12

Raimos again used his talents to confuse and daze the remaining goblin. The creature staggered under the magical effect, waving his blade and trying to defend himself while shaking his head to throw off the funny feeling.

Beside him, his companion fell twitching to the ground after another brutal attack from the unarmoured human. The nerve cluster he'd struck this time overloaded the simple creatures pain receptors to such a level that its brain had simply stopped working.

It seemed to be the square had nearly completely emptied of townsfolk now. Father Zantus was desperately applying some bandages to a wounded mans leg, having already healed much of the damage with his divine powers.

The sudden woosh-crump of a large fire igniting behind the group drew Raimos' attention away from the ongoing battle.

A little down the street, a new group of goblins had appeared. There were more of them this time, and one of them seemed to be singing a wierd piercing chant that was causing the others to caper more madly and work together to create damage with their flaming torches.

The noise that had drawn his attention to them was the sound of the wagon loaded with oil soaked wood for the nights bonfire. It was now happily ablaze and the goblin group seemed to be working at removing the wheel chocks so the flaming wagon could careen down hill.

As the bard watched, the wagoneer ran forward to try and drive teh goblins away, but the chanting goblin cracked a whip it carried which sliced neatly across the mans throat. He fell to the ground, clutching at the spurting woound and choking on his own blood. It seemed no one else was near enough to prevent them from pushing the cart downhill and into the main living district of town.

Ok, see OOC thread for description of the new group.

Goblin save vs Daze 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (11) - 1 = 10[/dice]

Goblin reflex saves vs pinning under collapsed table. G1 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15. G2 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20

Raimos chanted his magic, dropping a fugue of confusion over on of the green beasts, preventing it from attacking anyone.

The table above the goblins shattered under the might of Crokus' blow, and fell around the two remaining creatures. They were nimble enough to avoid the majority of their cover and one of them stepped in to attack the unarmoured man who was doing all the shouting.

Goblin attack vs Ira 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10, damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

The blow is clumsy, easily missing the nimble monk however.

Around them, the crowds continue surge away from the square, thinning out a little as the goblin menace scattered amongst the buildings to cause as much mayhem as possible.

Raimos was the only one in a position to see much of what was occuring. There were bodies lying on the ground. Many of them were goblins thankfully, but a few human sized shapes lay slumped in pools of blood as well. AS he watched, father Zantus moved over to a grop of fallen locals and seemed to glow with a holy aura. Two or three of the fallen townsfolk stirred after the healing effect washed over them.

There was no sign of the sheriff, but the bard could hear his booming voice calling orders as he directed the defenses and townsfolk to engage the goblins and push them further downtown.

Round 2

Your turn again fellas. No new targets so far. Plenty of swirlig melee etc, but no other unengaged creatures at this point.

Crocus staggered drunkenly across the intervening space and smashed his heavy hammer into the trestle table.

Even as he did so, ira had darted in and delivered a sickening kick to one of the goblins. The creature flew backwards under the blow, its ribs collapsed and its life's blood spurting from its mouth as it crashed into the ground.

nice roll for your first attack Ira. Seems our silent companion knows his way around a brawl.

1d10 ⇒ 6 Silver pieces for Raimos, performances throughout the day.

The day begian to draw to an end, with the orange glow of the sun as it set across the bay. An afternoon breeze had picked up and scudding clouds skipped along, promising rain later in the night. Each cloud was painted a deep purple and orange as the light of the grat sun burnt through the salt laden air to strike them from below.

The crowds all congregated near the new chappel, seemingly knowing that this was the time to be there for the official unveiling. Voices were raised in merriment, and more than one drunken group milled around, singing songs and generally enjoying themselves.

Father Zantus, the chief cleric of Desna and the chappel itself, made his way carefully onto the stage. It was clear he too had imbibed more than a little of the local mead and wine that day. Sheriff Belor Hemlock, a large Shoanti with the traditional blue tattoos of his tribe, stood beside the cleric. He looked around the crowds, grim faced and clearly the soberest person there.

Zantus raised his hand, something small and blue clasped within it. He tossed the object carefully onto the cobbled square in front of him. A loud bang, like rumbling thunder, erupted from the stone and the crowd turned as one to the stage. Voices stilled and all were staring in expectation at the middle aged human as he opened his mouth to speak.

A sudden scream broke the moment, coming from a women somewhere to the back of the crowd. Another soon follwed, this one from beyond the buildings and stalls that surrounded the Church Square.

A dog barked, but the sound was cut short by a shrill yelp of pain, and then panic truly set in.

From where the group were standing, it seemed as if the crowd errupted into panic. One minute people were pilling in confusion, thinking perhaps this was some form of performance. The next minute everyone was surging, the corwds pushing in different directions as the fear of attack set in.

A strange green creature darted across the view of the trio, disapearing into the crowd in the flash of metal and white teeth. None of the advednturers needed special training to recognise a goblin when they saw one. With a suddeness that shocked them all, the place seemed to be filled with terrible green menaces.

People all over the place were either being chased or desperately engaging the goblins. A bizarre and high pitched chant seemed to echo throughout the town, sung by the scratchy voices of goblin Warchanters as they whipped the attacking creatures into a frenzy.

Even as the three men readied themselves, a small group of goblins came into view throuh the crowd, they were armed and looked ready to set upon a mother and her two children who had been knocked to the ground in the commotion.

Ok doing this without a map. Will post this now so i dont lose it, then post in the ooc thread to outline the conditions of battle etc to see how this runs.

The rest of the day is spent in general revellry and celebrations of the township. After the mornings competitive acivities, there is a large lunch supplied for free by the taverns and inns of town.

Apparently these lunches are as much competitive for the proprieters as well, and everyone is encouraged to sample as much food as possible.

By lunches end, it is agreed by most that The Rusty Dragon has trumped everyone else, with a beautifully spiced Salmon dish.

After lunch, there is a ceremonial releasing of thousands of Swallowtail Butterflies. The event is significant to Desna, as it represents a famous legend from her followers. Apparently when teh goddess was injured she fell to earth and was nursed back to health by young blind girl. In repayment, Desna transformed her into an immortal Swallowtail Butterfly and chose her as her champion.

The remainder of the afternoon, the butterflies flitter around the town, passing in front of folk as they speak, gently alighting upon the heads of winderous children and being chased by dogs and cats alike, to no avail.

Crokus spends most of the time in the happy embrace of a very drunk half Orc named Gretta. Her and her brothers run the local waste gathering and disposal business in town, and after watching the big Barbarians prodigious strength, the family is very welcoming of him. He notes that the remainder of the township tends to keep away from him and the group though. Nothing new there Fort save vs Drunkeness please Crokus. You said you were going to drink, and these guys are going to oblige, especially if you're paying. I haven't worked out rules for it yet, but lets assume at least -2 to all checks if Drunk (until I can track down a proper rule for it)

Raimos spent the time espousing various epic poems and reworking his telling of Crokus' fight with the bear. All the time he looked to find a comely wench to woo, in hopes of free lodging for the evening. Certainly by days end there were no few opportunities present. It would seem that coastal air and country life agreed with the fine folk of Sandpoint, for quite a few comely women were among their number.

Diplomacy check to improve their attitude from indifferent to helpful my friend. Check the DC in the rule book to see if you succeed. That's what's required to get a night for free with an amorous lady (plus benefits). You can make a perform check to increase your odds. DC 15 nets you a +2 to your diplomacy. Every 5 points over that adds an additional +2. If you manage that, feel free to write in a young lass as a character for town with whom you now have very good connections to.

Ira stuck to the crowds, watching and learning with interest as the festivities continued. He seemed content to wait and watch, learning all the while and seemingly attracting no attention, neither good nor bad.

There was no sign of their other companion. Flightarrow seemed to have vanished after the archery tournament, and no one seemed to know where he was.

Ok, last chance for any specifics before we move on. Some big scenes coming up so I wanted these few things resolved first. Cheers

The fat Varisian man scowls at the large orc, reluctantly handing over his 3 gold.

"A fantastico effort eh! You have-a the strength-a of an Ox, methinks!", he leans in then, the varisian accent dropping from his voice as he whispers "Now be a good lad and scram. I can't afford to have folk like you winning every fight"

Looking at the crowd, he calls again, the strong Varisian accent present now his show face is on. 'Come-a-one come-a-all. Fighta the old bear, 3 silver buysa place eh!"

A bottle of rough grog is pressed into Crokus' hands and he is led away to the feasting being held in the main square. To his surprose, his new companions are half orcs, big and rough like himself.

Raimos launches into his account of the match, performing admirably and attracting a few patrons to him. He is greeted with a round of applause at teh end, but the group of locals is quickly drawn back to the next opponent in the bear match.

Up near the wall, the sound of arrows striking targets can clearly be heard and the occasional cheer from people as a particulalry good shot is made.

Ira, you can have a turn with the bear if you'd like. It seems to come back fairly refreshed each time it emerges from the screen.

Crokus renewed his efforts with the huge bear. His mighty arms bulged with sinew and muscle and he managed to reverse the grip on the creature. Suddenly he had the upper hand once again. The crowd roared its approval. This was something they could get behind for sure. The big Varisian began to look worried as Crokus seemed to get the better of his trained combatant.

Ok, well I can't beat that roll. So far round 1 to the bear, round 2 to Crokus. Let's speed this up. I'm going to roll 5 more rounds of grapples for my bear. Crokus can do the same. If two rolls come up in favour of one combatant in a row, lets assume they win by throwing teh other combatant out of teh combat circle. If it alternates between rounds, then all Crokus needs to do is last for the 5 rolls and he wins on time.

Since you'll know my rolls, when you compare yours Crokus, feel free to unleash your creative side and describe the combat from your perspective. Raimos, you too. I'm actually loving your wordsmithing at the moment. Truly bardic.

Ok, here goes my bear. Starting from round 3 grapple rolls are 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13, round 4 = 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12, round 5 = 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13, Round 6 = 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12, Round 7 = 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Hmmmmmmmm.... well if you cant win on those Crokus, there's somehting wrong hehe.

The crowd fell silent as the ugly orc stepped up and charged the emerging bear. They were shocked at both his hideous appearence and the brutality with which he grabbed the bear.

However, it didn't take long before they were again braying their enthusiasm at the fight and began laying bets again.

Ira stood watching his companion with a small amount of frustrated humour. It was fairly apparent this was not his preferred method of attack.

The bear roared in response to being grabbed, wrenching the metal chain free of the Fat Varisians hands, causing him to shout in surprise.

The huge Ursine grabbed Crokus in it's arms, desperately trying to get a grip so it could crush this annoyance like it had so many before.

Bear grapple attempt, 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25.

Crokus grunted as the creature gripped him in a vice like grip and began to squeeze.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA> IT never bodes well when the DM rolls a Natural 20 on his first roll of the campaign. Crokus is grappled, but not yet pinned. The bear is winning this round, but you've not taken anything in terms of damage yet.

Anyone with handle animal can make a DC15 check. If successful read the spoiler. Crokus, you're rather distracted, so you're at -2 for that check if relevent.

Ira notes with some disapointment that Irori is not one of those represented by the great temple. He is not surprised though, for his god rarely makes a great show in such places as this.

He spent some small time wandering the township, sampling the wares on offer and enjoying some of the simple entertainments to be seen.

As he approached one stall, he caught sight of a small household with deep blue stones as a path. The stones wound their way in a sinuous pattern, representing the flow of water through which all life travels. The reeds that grew around the house would clearly represent the way a man must bend in the face of assault, and the water showed that the path to perfection often led in strange ways and winding patterns. But always the river flowed to the sea, representing the the final font of all knowledge and perfection. All of this he recognised from his studies and time in monastery.

This blue path of stones led to a simple green door, and upon this door stood the symbol of Irori, painted in simple white.

How interesting.

Left this one fairly open for you Ira, since you showed some interest in the god but no other real pursuits here so far.

Raimos' performances had gathered a small crowd who laughed and applauded at all the right moments. His hat comfortably jingled with loose change that folks had thrown in, most likely enough to at least feed himself today. If he kept up at this pace he could claim quite a few silvers by days end.

As he rounds up his las few ditties, he realised a more discerning ear had been listening. A flamboyantly dressed Chelaxian man stood applauding graciously with the rest of teh crowd, and he slipped the young Bard a wink as his performance finished.

"It would seem you can turn a phrase or two sirrah." He stated with a broad smile and a low bow. "I am Cyrdak Drokkus, master of the local playhouse here, and I think perhaps you may have the makings of a fine Graphus" Knowledge history check for who that is. Or perform, since that skill probably lets you know something about famous plays or such

He looks at Raimos, expecting some response and possibly more than a simple greeting.

DC for the knowledge check is 12. If you make that then please read the spoiler below. You can use that in your answer if you wish.

More in an hour or so, just spending time with the wife and kids now. Cheers

Crokus had also found himself amongst likeminded folk. A large group of loud men and women had gathered near the ruined lighthouse, where a stretch of grass had been left bare. The big orc could see the archery competition from where he stood, but it was the spectacle before him that he had come to watch.

A fat Varisian man stood rousing to the crowd, calling all comers to step forward and challenge his champion to a match in wrestling and fighting. As the scarred warrior approached, he heard the crowd cheer as a broad shouldered sailor stepped forwards and placed his silver in the Varisians hat. The Varisian man smiled and shook the mans hand, before turning and pulling on a large metal chain.

A low growl came from behind a screen the Varisian had placed and from this cover emerged a shaggy black bear. The creature looked old and tired, yet Crokus noted the muscles in its body as it moved. The creature shook its head, and the little bells adorning its collar and mouth guard jingled in the morning air. As it walked forwards, the bear seemed to slump and favour one leg, and the crowd laughed at its old age.

The sailor seemd to take courage from his friends and toog a solid swig from a stone jug he carried. He stepped forwards and gave the bear a solid kick in the ribs. Even Croks heard the grunt that came from the bear, from a distance of ten feet or more. The crowd cheerd the man on as he proceeded to lay into the bear, which grunted and groaned as the baiting contiued. Bets began to be placed in the crowd and their excitement grew, even as the Varisian man called his despair at the beating his "Champion" was recieving.

Suddenly the bear growled and rared onto its hind feet. It towered over the sailor, who was looking suddenly less enthusiastic about things.

He stepped in tentatively in and threw another punch, but the bear merely encircled the man in his arms and began to squeeze. The face of the thing shoved towards the sailors head, and it was only the muzzly it wore that prevented the the thing from tearing the Sailors face away from his skull. The big sailor beat futilely at the bears back and shoulders, but the huge beast ignored the blows and squeezed harder. It was then that Crokus saw its claws had been torn free at some point. There was a crack and a yell of pain from the man, and suddenly the bear had cast him aside. It dropped to the ground and paced around a little before moving back behind its cover.

The man on the ground dragged himself up, clutching at his rib area and walked into the crowd. He have cracked a rib by the looks of things.

The crowd was cheering and crying out for more, and more of the stone jugs seemed to appear from nowhere and criculate amongst them.

"Anyone else want to try their luck. 3 silver gets you in, 5 gold is the pot. Not a bad haul for lasting a minute with the old bear.! Who's up for the challenge?"

Well, do you want to wrestle a bear big fella? 5 gold is nothing to sneeze at in these parts. Mind you, it is a bear hehe

Flightarrow sees much that is unusual in this town. People from all creeds have come to celebrate. Even the normally aloof Shoanti tribes are represented fairly solidly today, though that may be due to the fact the Sheriff of town was reputedly a Shoanti himself.

After making a few general enquiries, the archer found an archery tourney planned for the day. He made his way to the upper reaches of the town, near the low stone wall that offered some protection from the wilder northlands.

Archers targets had been arranged against the wall, and markers had been set at different distances from these, to represent range challenges for the bows on hand.

As Flightarrow walked up to the competition, he noted a few young lads from the outlying farms seemed to have signed up (Distinguished by the garb, generally). Two others were of more noteworthy appearence.

An older human stood with a huge Bull Mastiff hound at his side. He walked with a decided limp but as he tested the competition bows, Flightarrow noted the bulge of muscles across his back and in his arms. The man looked competent and confident.

Nearby, the ephemeral beauty of an elven maid also caught his eye. This women had her own bow, and the way it sat comfortably across her shoulders let the archer know she was very familiar with such weapons. These two would be hard to beat for sure.

Ok, it costs 3sp to enter. Winner collects the entire pot (which works out as 3 gold all up).

I need you to roll some ranged attacks against a stationary target. They start at 30 feet (2 shots), then 50 (two shots), then 140 (two shots)

I'll roll for the other archers when you've done that. Average your scores over the two shots and compare against your competition. If beat their scores over the three ranges you win. Simple.

Nat 20 counts as auto hit, no need to confirm. It still gets averaged.

The first day of Autumn came with pleasent weather and clear skys to the lost coast. Varisia's midlands were beautiful to wander, barely tamed and vibrant with life.

The four men walking the road to Sandpoint were'nt too concerned with beauty though. They had come to the moderate township for various reason. Following the call of festivities and fun, the rumours of goblin activity, the need to prove themselves outside of tehir monestary or the chance of a contract for work at what they did best. All of them had their own reasons, but they all had something to prove.

This drive had bonded them so far on their travels, and now they felt comfortable in each others presence.

As they crested the rise, the group caught their first sight of the town. A sprawling affair, built on the sloping shores of the coast line, and divided as a township by a large and flattened bluff. The lower part of town seemed crowded with buildings, the streets meandering as the township had grown. The upper part, that built upon the bluff itself, seemed to have more planning in its layout and certainly had more space.

Three buildings in particular stood out in the township. In the upper reaches stood the new church. A stone edifice dedicated to a number of gods and godesses of Golarian. It the was the grand opening of this building, combined with the Swallowtail Festival of Desna that had prompted the festival the town was holding.

Beyond that, seemingly carved from the very granite cliffs of Varisia itself, stood the ruined remnants of an ancient lighthouse. The thing must once have been huge, but now all that remained was the the shattered hulk of a lost empire.

The only other building of some note was a two story building in the lower township, built in the tudor style and decorated with festive banners and bunting. The fact it was a playhouse of some sort was obvious, even from this distance.

Beyond the town, the coastal waters sparkled in the morning light. Very few ships plyed their trade this morning, with most captains choosing to forgo work in order to enjoy the festival that seemed to be about to start.

As the group made their way across the bridge leading into town, they came to a sign adorned with a simple polished mirror. "Welcome to Sandpoint. Take a moment to see yourself as we do"

There were no guards, and just beyond the wooden platform the sounds of cheering and merrymaking were clearly heard.

ooc - Ok, this is the intro. This is a festival, with all that you can imagine that entails. It is in celebration of a new church being opened and coincides with Desna's swallowtail festival. What forms of enterainment or information would like to find out my adventurous friends.?

<sigh>. Well, I think it's time I faced reality and also broke the bad news folks. My spare time has compressed seriously and I find there just isn't room there for me to run a game online anymore. I recently gave up my DM duties in one of my real life games to try to keep this going and to free my time a little to fit everything in. Unfortunately, it is now obvious that I cannot keep running this game at anything like a reasonable rate.

I know this will come as a disapointment, but it is something that happens all too regularly on these boards. Mark, you would know this all too well I'm afraid, since this happened to me a few years back as well. Still, we got a good year or so out of this game and I hope you enjoyed the character development as much as I did. Once again I seem to have ended things mid fight, but at this point I can't muster the time or energy to finish this out

Unlike my last effort with gming, I'm not pulling out of the boards completely. I'll be lurking and reading occasionally so maybe we'll catch up around the place.

May you all find great games to play in. Cheers

Feldspar provides a bonus to fear checks (+4). That should be enough to push the rallying cry over the save DC.

In response to Feldspars repeated question, the guardsman looked up with tear streaked eyes. "She kept coming, she wouldn't stop coming at me, and the children kept crying. Oh gods of mercy, she thrust her doll at me and I ....I panicked. I only meant to knock the damned thing out of her hand, but she threw herself onto the sword..

The Doctor

Algus cast his eyes over Durik, noting the religious symbols and other regalia that marked him as a follower of Desna.

Both Idrian and Durik could hear the contempt in his voice, even though they couldn't see his face. "Surely one steeped in the doctrines of teh churches must understand the kind of benefits this cure will bring. Most people cannot afford the prices the churches charge to remove disease and illness. The doctor and I have been working on something that costs a fraction of that charged by the churches. Now the common man may be able to keep disease from his family, particularly the types of things that run rampant in Ustalav."

He stood to one side as he spoke, clearly indicating that both men were free to leave and that this was his preference.

At Idrian's words, a groan escaped from the doctor, but a hollow laugh came from Algus. "Come if you must Idrian, but know that we seek the betterment of those low in the hrierarchy of life. Whether we are here when you return or not is yet to be decided, but I warn you, tread carefully if you truly come to stop my work."

Both men caught the use of the singular noun in that last statement.

The Fighter's Folly

Feldspar caught sight of his companions reacting to something just outside his periferal vision. The Paladin's sight had flared into a holy spectrum, scanning the aura of the living man and the dead woman before him, but neither of them registered with his sight. As he turned in response to the movement bahind him though, he caught the briefest flicker of evil, even as it was snuffed out by some strange magic.

To the rest of the party, the doll seemed to flicker momentarily, fading to some twisted parody of a small human child dressed in tattered rags and staring with the dead eyes of a weathered skull. The image seemed to confuse their minds and as each of them blinked and shook their heads, the thing disapeared from sight.

A strange sound emitted from the area, the whispered voices of five or six children, all of them calling for their mothers and everyone of them sounding scared and alone.

DC 16 will save or suffer -1 to attacks and damge as this effect torments you. Fear effect so Feldspar is immune. Seems to particularly work against Bardic magic too, Tania is aware. It is discordant and interferes with most bardic abilities to boost their friends morale

Round 1 proper starts now. Jo'no first, then doll, then the rest of you. Note, as far as you are aware the doll hasn't left its spot, just vansihed from sight. The effect above was just a fancy way of saying it cast invis. Tania, base chance to spot this thing even if its not stealthy is 20, as that is the benefit invis gives.

I'm off on a Bilogy Camp tomorrow and will be away for two nights. Most likely will have to wait until after then to update sorry.