Search Posts
Isaku backs out of the smoke cover, and fires a near-perfect shot at Horse, falling bewteen the dream and Itka to deter it. He reloads. ◇) Devise a Stratagem (vs Horse)
The shot strikes true - probably critically - and leaves the Horse off-guard to Doc's followup!
Quick search turned up this alias under "magical beast" - maybe not the tanuki you were looking for but maybe a start?
...while Dotty Smee tends to his ship, alone, in the dark, and without clothes. All night.
"You wardrobe, sir, is not here, sir"
"Yes, sir" is the dutiful response.
"Aye, that's a bad blow!" Dotty Smee observes from a safe position the elf's Thunderous Strike!
Dotty Smee tries to be helpful ”I can pilot a dinghy like no other!”
"Ah I see! Like an anchor!" Dotty Smee exclaims.
As his master looks to the Maze of the Open Road, and turns away, Dotty Smee points out "Lookee, sir. I believe you have missed something!"
..."whiskey. To thee top" the clever hireling interrupts with timely aplomb, hopping up on a bar stool...
"Huhwhat?" Dotty Smee cocks his one good eye.
"Can't say that'd be somethin' I be knowin', sir"
"Looks to be a dinghy, sir - the kind attached to a larger sailing vessel, sir"
"Nossir" Our hireling hero's tone reflexive, nonchalant, carefree.
"Aye" Dotty Smee, the dutiful hireling, inspects the campsite.
"They're gone!" he reports.
"Amee late to thee pardee?" A halfling man, of average stature, peg-leg, hobbles up. "Ben' caring fer the twerp since he was about yee tall" he motions to just about his shoulder height.
"I'm afraid I may lose consciousness..." He goes down!
Raising his Dueling Cape, Nanoc heads through the breach! Suffering White's wrath , he lands in his spot, and arriving quickly, and makes a quick snipe point blank! ◆) Raise
Looking for an opening, Nanoc contemplates heading towards the device... ◇) Delay to after Zug
◆◆◆ Stride The lady moves up to, looking for more ideas to steal!
◆◆◆) Paralyzed!
A terrified look upon her face, the lady freezes in fear a full moment, observing the horror of a mortal future foreshadowed in the egg chamber!
"The forest has wound us in circles for weeks - like it doesn't want us to leave!" they marvel "The rest of our crew is safe - an encampment nearby - we have been taking turns on watch" then "Here, from this stash, you might need to take something with you - I suspect the forest isn't done with us yet!" Choose One:
They explain the source of their predicament, starting with receiving a message from the kami within the relic shortly before reaching the village. The message was vague, but they were able to discern that the kami was trapped within, and that it was afraid that some sort of nefarious force in the forest would try to capture it. At the time, they had a strong sense that the kami’s ward was close by, and they convinced the caravan to take a minor detour to assist a spirit in need. Unfortunately, the detour ended up being far longer than they expected, as the theft of the relic disrupted their plans. Since then, they have been following trails left by the spirits in hopes of finding their way back to the spirit road. The have glimpsed the thief in the distance several times, still carrying their bag, but they have never managed to catch up with him. From this, they surmise (correctly) that the spirits are trying to lead them to the thief. They are tired, scared, and frustrated, and they feel guilty for leading an entire caravan into such a troublesome situation. After explaining the situation to the PCs, Lin Po and Ti Lan ask the PCs to track down the thief and put an end to this trouble. If the PCs ask the Pathfinders to come along, they explain that they are unwilling to abandon the caravan and encampment. Though it is still early in the day, the caravan
The stranded pathfinders recover themselves "Thank you for saving us" and "We have been unable to leave this forest for... about a month or longer?" the one turns to the other, who nods "I am Ti Lan, and this is my partner, Lin Po"
The fat one loses his will, and begins sobbing - the tall one enrages, begins yelling at the spirits in Tien!
The stranded pathfinders keep up the chanting from afar - the short one talking down the spirits with a soothing voice while the tall one defends him from losing his concentration!
The stranded pathfinders continue to do what they can from afar - the short one talking down the spirits with a soothing voice while the tall one defends him from losing his concentration!
The stranded pathfinder do what they can from afar - the short one talking down the spirits with a soothing voice while the tall one defends him from losing his concentration!
"No no - dogs are..." the secretary seems to reconsider, bites her tongue "I'll get that lock, thank you. Please leave your picks stowed - scratches the metal..."
A little short with the tengu - stress! - the secretary replies snippily "You've been here a week I'm sure you have taken note of everyone's quarters - of course we searched his! - but being on the payroll, this irritating task is hereby delegated to you! I must get back to my preparations, please and thank you" And with that, she clips her boots together and goes to sit back down and resume tending to the large pile of well-organized notes encumbering the moderately large (and made of quality wood) desk.
The industriously unapproachable secretary (who on at least one occasion had a loudly vocal mini meltdown from the stress of organizing the impending events described HERE) of this ordinarily well-run lodge whom the lot of you have politely avoided all week turns their attention suddenly your direction - an exasperated look after reading the morning briefing! - and with a brief nod before speaking, conveys with utmost professionality “We of the Hajoth Hakados Lodge thank you for your willingness to contribute in this politically sensitive endeavor. Our attentions cannot be diverted from other matters presently. I shall be brief. Our scribe, a gnome named Zatqualmish, has gone missing as of this morning, along with several necessary documents. We suspect foul play, potentially from an internal element, as the documents were magically hidden. A preliminary search has given us nothing conclusive, but you are welcome to investigate any areas or staff of the lodge you feel may help.” They gather their sheaf of notes and hold out a silver compass. “Take this, should you need something to give you a bit of authority with the locals.” Trained in Society or Pathfinder Society Lore: The compass is a wayfinder!
The sherif comes by and produces a document for Wilhuff Harjack to sign, and ripping it into several pieces, distributes one to each of the player characters. ”You can redeem these at the local notary. Well done team.” And with that, files another paperwork for the baby alpaca’s new name - Sprinkle - which causes her lip to curl, and settling all the taxable affairs, heads back up the hill...
Turning to Toavandil and snapping ”Technically correct but let us abrogate our tone to such matters.” Annoyed perhaps the sheriff turns her gaze back up the hill at the government building from which she had emerged to perform this errand ”Bounty stands, citizen. The good people of Petioner’s Port rely on the Harjhack farm for various foodstuffs as well as the alpaca wool for craft and finery. Let me stress the urgency thus. The conduct of business hereby stands to be interrupted” this last word stressed for an implied impact! Society (Trained) or Religion (Trained):
A raised eyebrow and beginnings of a snarl curl onto the nose of the sheriff, who seems discomforted with the spite’s unusual play of words, and moves to sternly correct where she sees error! ”Murder is no laughing matter, nor time for humor. The farm is indeed just north of here” she makes to leave as the still-parted crowd bears wide berth...
Swiftly emerging from the government building on a nearby hill, and stopping in front of the town’s major rest stop, “The Meticulous Truffle Inn”, a stern-faced woman places an updated sheet on the local bounty board while removing several others, parting a small crowd that forms around the board with the mere projection of authority, who themselves part into neat lines to permit her entrance, and remaining for her anticipated egress!
Olombe and Fjorn lead the way!
Diggen returns. "So, do you need more time to discuss our deal?" He indicates the contract on the table. "Or have you reached your decision?"
"Well my good lad. Perhaps you speak for your party, and perhaps not. With my conditions thoroughly laid, it wouldn't do to have you abscond with your modest reciprocal duties. Please understand, though my eagerness is high as concerns my desire to banish this devil from my home - an ability I posses not without help - too has my patience in having the deed done in a way that shouldn't risk my own damned existence shifted into another order of magnitude with respect to time. You see, you are not the first band of adventurers to come rapscallioning through this keep, indeed, but to your merit, you are the first to make it past the successive defenses of it's lower tenants" he looks as Emoubu here "As such, though it would pain me to wait, without your written agreement to this simple assurance, I am afraid I will have to wait for the inevitable next band, even as I have grown fond of our conversations as well as the specific spices in your tea!" The Ghost of Diggen Thrune sinks back into the wall of the library, gone from sight. "I shall you time to mull it over in the privacy of this library, unperturbed, until such a time as you have together arrived at a final answer. Fino alla nostra prossima riunione!" the sound of his voice echoes here, growing increasingly distant until barely audible by the last syllable. It seems that he is gone! Translation (Infernal): Until our next reunion!
"Oh!" "Just before I enter this wayfinder - please sign here!" There is a document sitting on the table over yonder which The Ghost of Diggen Thrune indicates - which he has already apparently drawn up -
True to his word, Diggen Thrune teaches you the binding ritual "And when you go to bind , the only alterations you are to make are..." as well as a modified version that could serve to bind the weakened devil to the throne.
Just before entering, he takes the party on their word "I trust you to hold up your end of the bargain" avoiding eye contact with Nedri but otherwise making a point to connect personally with each of you before submitting.
And with that, the Wayfinder glows with an eerie red light, which seems to add to the items heft somewhat...
"Parli Infernale, mio giovane amico?" he addresses Duncan. Translation (Infernal): "Do you speak Infernal, my young friend?"
"When the Throne is destroyed, I finally obtain peace, you see, for I care not to remain trapped in this Keep for all eternity. And the devil? Banished! As I implied, the situation is a win-win-win. Have you not the ambition to be yourselves Landlords?!" Aurelien holds up the wayfinder he's had since the flaming skeleton attack. "You would put your spirit in here? And not be able to get out unless we spoke the proper words? Where can the devil roam now? You will teach us how to seal it into the throne and another phrase to release you? "Yes my lad, in there. The process is only mildly complicated, but as I have had a long time to brood over a way to release myself, I have worked out a method that I believe you can replicate! There is a little more to it than two simple phrases, but yes, that is the gist"
With the inherited ease of his caste, the Ghostly Thrune edges away from Nedri with a pompous revulsion, loudly ignoring his existence with upturned nose and downturned contempt, instead facing the cleaner dressed and well-mannered Aurelien. "My own story has barely started. I am not yet forty and not very experienced. I was born in Western Rahadoum and began hearing my ancestors speak to me at a young age. I find history fascinating. I have spent most of my years studying the past to help us not make the same mistakes again. I hope to uncover more of use through the rest of my life. Cheliax is doing the same as all empires before it. It is waning, but remains somewhat influential as it does. Andoran, where we are, and Kintargo remain free and strong. I hear the Mwangi colonies are no longer ruled from Cheliax. You may not like this news but I would not lie to make you happier." He looks at Diggen to gauge his reaction. "We are here seeking Pathfinder history and I think you can help us. Maybe we can do something about the devil upstairs, too. "Yours barely started - mine in it's twilight!" he lights up and "drinks" the last of his "tea" cup “I’m a servant of the empire, you know; I was knighted for my efforts in quelling rebellion in these parts. Rewarded with land on the far side of the country and a responsibility to guard this region." he looks upstairs here with an eyebrow raised "Like I said: Bit of a barbed deal that." his tone shifts to one as if apologetic, almost asking for your forgiveness in understanding his "simple" mistake "How was I to feed and larder troops to protect a keep on the opposite side of the empire from my holdings? I wasn’t, and that’s the simple truth of the matter. A devil, though? Hah! No food, no morale issues, and you don’t need to worry about paying them until the job is well and truly done." his apologetic tone increases further "And how was I to know that agreeing to be bound to the beast until the empire’s control of the region was reestablished and peace was returned was going to leave me stuck here for all eternity?” he pauses here, "handing" the cup back to Khaul... ...There is a moment where he eyes the cup once more - as if deciding upon - but to the party's relief, seems to decide against it, and says instead "Listen here, my friends: I have a bit of a proposition for you. I cannot leave this keep under my own power for as long as the devil is free upstairs, and he can’t be sealed back up in that throne of his by anyone other than me. So here’s my proposal: I’ll seal myself up in one of your wayfinders or another magic item of your choice. You head on upstairs and confront that infernal bugger. Best him in combat, and when it seems he’s destroyed, he’ll be weak enough to bind. What matters is that one of you place the item containing me against his throne and speak the proper words, which I will teach you. That’ll seal the bugger back up in his throne and put him at the service of the keep’s proper owner. Once he’s sealed up, place both of your hands against the object you seal me in and speak the same phrase; I’ll be free to travel on to the afterlife I’ve earned with my service to the empire. Once I’m gone, you’ll be the keep’s proper owners, with your own bound devil to oversee the place. What do you say?”
"Oh my how exotic! Serving in my retinue there used to be a couple of servants whose job was to scout the lands surrounding this very keep! Too bad for them that they were the first to fall when the dissidents of the area came back thinking they could reclaim..." a long-winded story here about battles during his time occupying this territory when he was properly alive...
"I first earned my title of Lord when I accepted this posting - nobody else dared stray this far outside of the Empire at the time, and I wanted to seize the opportunity to expand my own wealth, no naturally, I began talking to my cousin..." another long-winded story about the "adventure" of navigating Thrune family politics so as to gain sufficient recommendations to oversee the expansion into the territory that this keep used enforce and oversee... My family hailed from southern Cheliax. They made a few mistakes in political backings and we found ourselves needing to... relocate. After a bit of this and that I left home. I fell in with Captain Benarry and the Pathfinder Society and have been a bit of a nomad ever since. "Oh don't you just love Cheliax? Such a mighty nation - I'm sure to this day it's territories expand into every major continent. Tell me, what news do you have of my beloved country?" He turns toward Aurelien and Nedri now, but not before taking a "sip" or "tea" - increasing the diameter of fluid spilled below him, and never-the-less softly and politely grunting with the pleasure of a satisfied pallet. His cup now And hovering in the air "in" his "hand" as he continues to swirl it this direction and that...
**...with a small psychokinetic force, Thrune swirls the "tea" in his cup...**
His eyes open a little wider here at the multiple curiosities about upstairs - he plays his hand by seemingly having a mental dialogue, which ends with an almost context-less "Bit of a barbed deal that..." His attention returning to those present "Duncan Veritan - that is much better, yes - from where do you hail?" and he turns to "Good sir - would you remind filling my tea?" he winks here "And while you do, regale me with a story concerning your origins?" then to "And you - I am sorry to say that there haven't been many visitors in years, no. But today, much is changed. For example, the pleasure of your company: With whom am I honored in the presence of?" and as he speaks three things become immediately apparent to the party: 1) His glass is empty
**...the liquid spills onto the ground... but the psychological effect of "drinking" seems to be satiated...** "Very... shall we say... well, it was a bit weak... not really suited to me but... it's been awhile since any such treat has crossed my pallet... so thank you. Come to think of it: It’s been a decidedly long time since anyone civilized made their way here. Last folks were those Pathfinders about a century ago... Shame how that turned out. I did warn them about the devil in the attic you know. And that was before all the kobolds showed up to worship the damned thing. Don’t suppose I can say much though, given as I’m the reason he’s here and he’s the reason I’m still stuck here.” He seems to have decided that Emoubu is "one of you" and has since relaxed his eyes of looking at him. Floating inches above the ground now, his feet lost to the etheria "Don't be silly: Of course this is my library!"
**curtsies** **floats down and reaches for the drink** **slowly sips... considers...**
The discorporated voice speaks first to those upon the highest rungs of the library held aloft by the runic levitator. Nedri / Aurelien / Emoubu:
What appears is the translucent apparition of a portly man in his middle years, with an oiled mustache, thinning hair slicked back and tied in a neat knot. He is dressed in a billowing silk shirt, polished silver breastplate, and black leather boots held together with an excessively complex series of ribbons. Ned shrieks, "Nine Hells, it's the in-laws! Run fer it!" He stops himself before he can book it Looney-Tunes style and squints. "Oh, wait. You ain't Dierdre." He puffs out a relieved breath. "The deathly pallor really had me fooled fer a minit. Now whatchoo want, ghost?" "Good day spirit. What can I do for you?" Aurelien sounds polite but looks non-plussed by the voice. It's almost as if he hears the spirits regularly...... “I say” the voice calls out “I don’t suppose any of you fine people happen to have brought along a pot of tea and some decent leaves? It’s been forever and a day since I’ve caught the scent of a decent cup.” It then addresses the voices yelling from around the corner - both parties unable to see eachother at the moment.
"Thank you. And yes, maybe a dram of that as well!" Ahem yourself. How can we help you? "Would it not be the height of barbarism if I were to trespass into your library, hide in your corner, then pepper you with impatient and rude comments?! My have times changed..." Nedri / Aurelien / Emoubu: He seems to stare overlong at Emoubu... as if trying to decide how he "fits" into your party...
"Ahem" A discorporated voice clears it's throat. The ironic echo of the library carries the baritone far enough that even Khaul and Duncan can hear it - but it is in Aurelien's and Nedri's ears that it roars with thunder!
|
