A human man is sitting off to the side, an unfolded sandwich in his lap. He's sweaty and covered in dust, and over his shirt is the same loose, bright yellow vest the others have been wearing to stand out during night construction. He looks up, regarding the halfling suddenly upon him and asking questions, eyes wide and words a little faster than he's capable of really taking during his lunch break. "There was a fire," he says, a little confused by Keleni's approach and excitement, unsure what she could want or if she's a bright-eyed and overexcited passerby just casually striking up a conversation he's not entirely in the mood for during his chance to relax. "I don't know a lot about what happened, I just work here."
Nothing in that spoiler is too intense, so 10+ is enough to go into there. Abadar isn't exactly a secret god or anything. I just put 20 since it matched the corresponding roll prompting it.
Returning back the way you came through the crowd, you reach the small, burnt section of Absalom, where scorched earth has been chipped away and little bits of building have been blocked and 'livened' with fresher, less charred constructions and scaffolds. Nothing is complete yet, but the skeletal frames of buildings have begun to rise; wooden and metal support structures, brick walls reaching up to the mid-calf on a medium-sized humanoid, and floorboards have been laid down. Usually construction wouldn't be out of place in The Coins, where new shops are built or town down and restructured all the time, but the sheer size of this continuous workplace is far beyond the scope any of you have seen before, especially with the church of Abadar standing brilliantly at the end of it all, half of it still standing proudly in defiance of the flames. Workers come and go, pushing wheelbarrows and hauling tools and planks to and fro. It's a coordinated and well oiled machine running as they seek to build atop the city's scars so that people can finally finish healing.
Approach this however you guys feel like doing your thing.
Well, you could always roll to see if you know stuff, Freyja. You've got the skill and all. Also, Stella ain't the mortician.
Knowledge (Local) 15 about the fire:
The fire cut through many buildings in up the northern end of The Coins, and even a couple buildings in the Ascendant Court. Although the Church of Abadar was the most notable for its lavishness and the reverence of the God of the First Vault within the city, a dozen business were lost in the fire, including an inn and several shops. Ten dozen lives were lost in the fire, including several priests of Abadar, almost all of the residents of the inn, and workers attempting to tend to the flames.
Once Keleni and Shiro have posted one last time we'll move on to the construction site, it seems. Unless anyone has other ideas.
Oops, lost the tab from the downtime a few days ago that redirected the URL to a downtime page and wouldn't show anything else, then forgot to open it back up. My bad.
Knowledge Religion (20) on Abadar:
Abadar is the god of cities, wealth, merchants, and law. A neutral god of peace and commerce, he is naturally one of the most worshipped gods in the city of Absalom, and his former church in the city stood as one of the most lavish in the continent, serving many purposes for the community as a central bank. In addition to religious duties, his clergy and knights act as money lenders, lawyers, and judges.
The mortician leaves for a moment to call for help from some other mortuary works, returning with several much stronger people than he who can help haul the bodies toward the furnace room. He himself doesn't handle them and seems to keep a nervous and worried distance from the bodies as they're taken away to be burned, and even then, he doesn't look like he'll be able to sleep well for fear of their return.
"Do you think you can handle investigating?" Stella asks, looking around. "I have to get ready for my shift, and my captain cannot know I'm doing anything in my off-duty hours. Don't pretend to be a member of the city guard and don't leave a trail of living bodies, and you should be fine."
If only someone had a wand of CLW on them. Nudge nudge, Shiro you f*%$. Also, enter Khandi, everyone just act natural.
Stella regards Mirabelle with surprise. "Oh no, we're dealing with... what, ghouls? We need to look into this. Someone is leaving bodies infected with ghoul fever around the city and hoping they won't be seen until it's too late, that's called an emergency."
"Fortunately for you, you won't have to go many places," the mortician says, turning to look at the corpses, not quite squeamish, but fearful. He's used to working with dead bodies, not undead bodies, and even though you've taken out the 'un', he's visibly concerned. "They were all working on the renovation project to repair last year's fire."
Live in Absalom or Knowledge (Local) 15:
The rebuilding efforts to replace the buildings claimed by last year's fire are regarded as a single project funded jointly by the city and the Church of Abadar. Rather than individual works projects vying for space in the crowded section of the city against each other as well as civilians, contractors are being hired to work on the entire section.
If only someone had a wand of CLW on them. Nudge nudge, Shiro you f*@!. Also, enter Khandi, everyone just act natural.
Stella regards Mirabelle with surprise. "Oh no, we're dealing with... what, ghouls? We need to look into this. Someone is leaving bodies infected with ghoul fever around the city and hoping they won't be seen until it's too late, that's called an emergency."
"Fortunately for you, you won't have to go many places," the mortician says, turning to look at the corpses, not quite squeamish, but fearful. He's used to working with dead bodies, not undead bodies, and even though you've taken out the 'un', he's visibly concerned. "They were all working on the renovation project to repair last year's fire."
Live in Absalom or Knowledge (Local) 15:
The rebuilding efforts to replace the buildings claimed by last year's fire are regarded as a single project funded jointly by the city and the Church of Abadar. Rather than individual works projects vying for space in the crowded section of the city against each other as well as civilians, contractors are being hired to work on the entire section.
And they're dead. Good hustle, but next time, you guys have to try and keep posting an action a day to have everything gonig forward. Also, at this point, Mismeia is shitcanned, so we're down to five now.
The mortician cowers in fear behind the door, shaking in terror as he remains only just barely hidden behind it. He doesn't react until you ease up after the final ghoul drops. Naturally, that's also when Stella runs into the room, having heard the commotion and not been following after you, only to find that you've already cut the creatures down and the ghoul corpses now litter the floor.
"Not bad," she says, in a way that implies you'll not be getting much more vocal approval out of her. "Hopefully you know what we're dealing with now?" She looks past you, to the cowering medical examiner, and a smile cracks across her lips. "Might want to speed up the corpse burning process."
A few seconds after the fight ends, Mirabelle is able to move once more, freed from her paralysis and fear, fully aware of what's happened while she was frozen.
The ghoul standing in the doorway falls to Keleni and Freyja's swift double teaming, its body crumpling to the floor and opening up the chance for Shiro to sent out his burst of flame.
The ghoul in front manages to just miss the worst of the fire, though the one behind it gets struck directly in the midsection. Although scorched and with the smell of burning added to the already intense odour of decay and fetid rot, they continue to move forward, another one taking the place up front and trying to go after Freyja. For 'intelligent' undead, they don't seem to be thinking too tactically.
Margaret's player has dropped the character due to some issues we don't need to get into here, and has a new one who will be joining in on the change to the next scene. When this happens, just pretend she's always been there I guess. Brute force retcon.
I guess with no guarantee Mismeia is coming back any time soon, we'll just move on.
The particularly fearsome ghoul menacing Mirabelle is struck down by Freyja and Shiro's additional assault, and though she's still paralyzed, she no longer has a creature chomping on her neck. Keleni's shot strikes misses the centermost ghoul in the room by an inch, grazing across its shoulder, which draws an amused laugh from the undead creatures. The ghouls shamble toward the door, but only one is able to fit through it, and with Mirabelle locked down and harmless, it decides to go after Freyja, who's also within reach.
Bite:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
But its teeth fail to penetrate the Paladin's armour.
The bullet hits the ghoul in the shoulder, and it hurls a curse word as the impact sends its shoulder back, only for Mirabelle to stick it with her foil an instant later, right through the gut. But it clings to its undeath, albeit just barely, and leans forward, continuing to vent its fury against Mirabelle; perhaps even more so now, due to the bloodless hole in its chest.
The creature's vicious attacks leave Mirabelle stunned, its claws digging in deep and leaving her unable to move, paralyzed in a mix of pain, fear, and the undead monster's toxic effects.
The other ghouls move toward the door, blocked by the group gathered outside of it and waiting patiently for their turn; the foremost of the ghouls is up uncomfortably close to Margaret, who remains undetectable by their senses, able to slip away from the fearsome one who had just struck Mirabelle.
Yeah, roll damage in the first post. It's sort of redundant if you very clearly whiffed or flat out rolled a 1, but that's more of a 'not worth the effort, probably' thing than an actual imperative not to.
Okay, so initiative. Because play by post takes time, we're using what's called "staggered initiative". Basically, everyone who moves before the enemies may take their turn. Then, the enemies take their turn. Then, just to make things go by quicker, the party can all post their turns, including those who previously acted. So, right now, Mirabelle and Keleny are moving ahead of the ghouls. Once the ghouls move, everyone is "up" again. This just keeps the flowing and at the rough pace of a round per day, rather than waiting for everyone on their different schedules to post in turn, which would make a round of combat take significantly longer.
As Margaret opens the door, she finally catches a glimpse of some vision. Although she's invisible, the opening of the door is not, and something races feverishly past her, a gaunt, pallid creature resembling the three on the table, but it's not any of them. Another corpse that had been lying in wait scrambles through the opening, having remained hidden from her view. And with the door open once more, it goes straight for the most vulnerable looking living being in front of it. With the mortician behind the door as it opens, that means the lightly armoured Mirabelle. It snarls as it goes in for a bite on the woman's shoulder.
Attack:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Its sharp fangs fail to pierce her leather armour, but already its eyes stare in predatory hunger up at her; its flesh is not stretched so thin upon its body that it looks entirely like wiry and starving ghouls anyone would think of, but it clearly has not yet tasted flesh.
The other ghouls rise on the table as they finally cease to play dead, shouting demands for flesh and threatening to feast on you as they look toward the doorway.
Said there were four bodies, but only three were on the tables. Gotta be more careful. Now, it's combat time.
I'm going to explain how we'll be handling initiative in the discussion thread, so that'll go up soon (if it isn't already up when you get this, that is.) But for now, know that Keleni and Mirabelle are the only ones to act before the deadies.
There's no doubt about it; the rot around the bites is most certainly ghoul fever. The bites are savage and small chunks of flesh appear to be missing here and there, but they have a restraint to them that only the more intelligent ghoul would be capable of, rather than a savage and mindless plague zombie.
Mismeia, this is final warning on inactivity. One more time we get stuck for a day waiting on you and you're out. Sorry, but PBP is slow enough already, we've got to keep shit rolling.
Spoke to Margaret's player about if they wanted to switch the casting from Mismeia onto someone else and they decided they wanted to go in solo, so that's where this is rolling.
A little ripple of distorted airs runs up Margaret from her feet to her head, sheathing her in magic that will hide her presence from the senses of any undead creatures who may be inside. With peoples' preparations seemingly made, the mortician braces himself, taking a deep breath as he pulls the heavy metallic bar up that closes off the room; overkill perhaps, but that remains to be seen. He then pulls the door back, notably not moving from that position behind it as he averts his gaze, safe and obscured from whatever may be inside of there.
But beyond a wave of cold air carrying the incredibly pungent and rotting odor of death and diseased flesh, nothing jumps out at you. The storage rooms holds bodies awaiting autopsy before they get moved to a larger room to await burial, once arrangements with the next of kin have been made. This considerably smaller rooms holds many medical tables containing beds of ice that bodies are then laid on to keep them cool and staving off decay. Three such tables hold corpses stripped bare, revealing three humans, two men and a woman, who all seem on the stockier, blockily muscular end of the spectrum. Four tables, two on each side of the occupied three, are prepped with ice to receive more corpses, but are currently unoccupied. Save for the wisps of billowing cold air rolling out along the floor, there is no motion from the room, and no sound anywhere.
Also on that note, don't roll into the room when only half the party have responded, and there's other plans being brewed that involve other people going in first, unless you're actively doing a "nah f@!@ this I'm going in" kind of thing. Margaret and Mismeia appear to be first in the room.
The mortician shrugs. "As long as you report back to me with something definitive, do whatever you want to them. Standard procedure for diseased bodies is to cremate them, and we already have them all identified, so go wild." He puts his hands up, as if to distance himself from responsibility on the matter as he leads you toward the door with the bar down to lock it into place. "Open it when you're ready."
Make whatever preparations you want, figure out who is in and doing what, and then open it up.
"Well, the idea is that you would indeed look at the corpses. I have no hope of identifying whatever it is myself, and need to know how to take care of handling the bodies after my report is complete."
Margaret:
There are multiple undead creatures that spread disease to their victims; some, like zombie rot and ghoul fever, result in a victim who succumbs to the illness rising as one of the same, while others, such as necrotic boils or mummy rot, are simply fatal with no post-death effects, although diseases like athrakitis can spread when contact is made with an afflicted corpse. Not discounting the likelihood that creatures of decay and filth would also be capable of spreading more 'mundane' illnesses due to uncleanliness. Ghouls, zombies, and festrogs would be the most likely candidates, but you won't know for absolute certain until you can examine them yourself.
"That's the strange part. There is localized decomposition in the area around the bite mark, but everywhere else looks fine, and they show nothing else to indicate they're older than a day and a half by this point. I haven't checked on them since last night, given Stella's insistence that I keep them isolated and locked away."
The mortician sighs in relief at Margaret and the fact he won't have to dumb anything down before he looks down at his notepad, to the illegible scrawl that may as well be the runes of a long dead language for how incomprehensible it looks. "Four bodies came in over yesterday from the morning until late evening. They had been dumped in semi public locations across the two districts; in back alleys and garbage containers. None of them seemed to have been dead since maybe the night before at most. Since they seemed strange to me and I couldn't identify a cause of death, I sent a messenger to Stella about it, since she knows people who may be a little better suited for such tasks; my reports need to have better tham 'mystery disease' on them, or else people begin asking me questions. She asked that I keep the bodies isolated and frozen for a day while she got some monster hunters in. They're currently in a very cool room on beds of ice; we used to have a magically frozen room, but the magic has given out and nothing gets done fast in this city."
Moving on time. Next time I put the scene into "make your peace and let's move" mode, if you don't have anything left to post just put in an OOC "I'm ready" or something so I know everyone's seen it. Time zone f+$$ery makes it kind of complicated to know if something's been 'long enough' without that input.
Once your plates are empty and your drinks are empty, Stella rises, not even giving you much time to revel after your meals as she hurriedly urges you out of the newly reopened Gilded Unicorn. "Come on, we've got work to do." The other order members are quick to move tables back to remove the appearance of the inn as a place where a secret cabal of clandestine, potentially treasonous monster hunters are meeting, and sunlight filters back into the establishment. But you don't get much time to savour it as the middle aged woman ushers you out the door in front of her. "And stay close to me if you don't know the city. It's going to take some time to learn it."
Absalom bustles in front of you, an active and thriving city that has perhaps grown a little cramped in recent generations. Clearly, you've been stationed in quite a busy part of town, people moving with purpose and going about business; it would be easy to get lost in this shifting mass of a crowd, but it also seems like the perfect way to get lost in a crowd if that were your intention, something that it's hard not to take note of if you're supposed to be keeping things at least somewhat low key. Even as a shinier and more traveled section of the city, you can feel a general sense of lingering darkness in it; it's a city as built upon tragedy and crime as any other; a short walk away, you could well be able to buy a slave with the contents of your pocket, fully legal. It is a shining city of glory and a world united, but that shine does little more than distract from what lies barely hidden beneath the surface.
Knowledge (Local) of 10, or having lived in Absalom:
The Gilded Unicorn is situated at the northereastern edge of The Coins, the main market district of the city, and bordering on the Ascendant Court to the north, which is Absalom's religious center, and the Merchant's Quarter, the city's business district. Rather intriguingly, you're a short distance away from the modest temple of Pharasma located in the city; sites are also located in the city's graveyards, with this small temple serving as the city's central Pharasman base. The reconstruction effort to the northeast is a reminder of the fire that tore up a swath of the area a year earlier, with all of the buildings being reassembled slowly, but none more high rising than a memorial building meant to mourn the victims of the fire, and a temple to the god of commerce, Abadar, which is being built back upon with its ruinous remains to become even grander and more lavish than before.
Any time I post a Knowledge spoiler like that unprompted, you may make the roll if you have the skill, if you succeed, you may open the spoiler up. If you don't/you fail, you're SOL. Any conditions on there that would lead to you already knowing this information let you open up the spoiler without a roll.
Stella moves swiftly and steadily through the crowd, leaving you stumbling through a morass of people coming and going in all directions, but none of you end up lost or cut off from the others. She doesn't regard questions about what you're doing with anything beyond a harsh, "Wait until we're able to talk," and fails to break her stride the entire time, her voice merely biting and audible among the din of the marketplaces you walk right through. The way she walks without slowing or interruption is admirable; she moves seamlessly through the sea of people in a way that only years of experience can muster.
Reaching a modest and squat building emblazoned with the word "Mortuary" in unspectacular grey, Stella makes a turn so sharp it almost shocks you, and you follow after her through the door. Only once you're all past it does she speak, one hand holding to the sword holstered at her side while the other straightens out her leather armor and the district patch noting her dispatch and rank.
"Okay," she says, as though she were still in the inn, giving you the briefing like nothing had changed. "The lead mortician of the Coins-Market District mortuary is an old friend of mine. He's aware that this city isn't what it seems, since he deals with corpses that don't always have easy answers, but he's not a member of the order, so don't give him any more information than you have to. For his safety as much as ours. I'll leave you to look at them yourselves, but there are multiple corpses on ice that have large bites on their bodies, and are in a strange state of decay. He can't identify the origin of it, but hopefully you can."
As she speaks, a wiry, slouched man with small spectacles balanced precariously on a hooked nose walks out. His face is not particularly old, but given his posture and prematurey greying hair, a quick glance would certainly imply so. "These are your monster hunters? You could have done worse. Are any of you medically trained?" His eyes scan across the strange group assembled in his lobby. "Or squeamish? Probably not any of your first times seeing a corpse, but these aren't normal bodies, so if you need to ask anything to prepare yourself, I'm all ears. I can't write anything conclusive down, but I still have my eye sight. Mostly."
"Excellent," Alandre said, relieved that all six of the summoned prospects had joined in, rather than have a considerable amount of money go down the drain on at least one of them. "In that case, you may finish your meal in peace, and then Stella will explain the matter on the way. It's not the sort of thing you wish to discuss over food. IF you have need of me specifically, please talk to Kotri and she will arrange something, but otherwise, I hope things go fortunately for you, and that when next we meet, there is good news." Leaving the remainder of his food on the table, he stood up and set off toward the back, giving a small wave to a couple of the stragglers standing around watching, all of them presumably your new allies, who had not taken a seat at the table.
The guardswoman--Stella, presumably--muttered into her glass, "May not want to eat if you have a weak stomach. We're going to the morgue."
If there's any conversational lingerings, I guess give them a quick wrap-up for a moment, and once we're all good to ship out, it's on to the plot railroad.
"We have already looked quite extensively into your pasts. We have a good grasp on what you do, and that none of you seem more likely to hurt people than help them. So long as we don't come to regret this assumption, there will be no problem, regardless of your own personal manners of handling things. As for supplies, unfortunately matters like the creation of holy water are services the churches can't just dole out for free in the quantities we would need, and I sadly do not have access to my own stores of such supplies. You will have to take whatever you need from what you are paid. Although a few of our members may be able to sell you some of the less easily acquired tools of your trade. We have some quite eager 'hobbyists', you could say."
"Yes, there is something to work on at the moment. Lieutenant Riodos here will explain the details, but once we have finished with lunch, you can go with her to investigate something. We hadn't planned for there to be work today, but something came up. As for pay; you will each be paid weekly for your work, and of course have your rooms here at the Gilded Unicorn, as well as all of your food, taken care of. Kotri and her husband run the inn in their retirement, but it's still my money behind it; I suppose it's a front for the Ordo, in many ways, but gives us a central meeting place that will be more difficult to tie back to me than my own home would be. I will not frequently come to meet you here due to my seat on the Low Council and the illegality of funding what could easily be termed treason depending on how far this goes, but Kotri and other members will be able to relay the information to you.
"For matters of leadership, we did not intend for that to be an issue, but if you wish to decide among yourselves who will make the decisions, then you may certainly do that."
"At the moment, we don't know who or what our enemy truly is; we believe most of what we have dealt with have not been knowing members of this society, but instead people spurred on by their influence and resources. What we suspect is that certain people have infiltrated higher levels of the major players in Absalom; the Arcanarium, the Pathfinder Society, the watch of at least three districts, and even all levels of the Grand Council. How many there are or who, specifically, are still details beyond us, but we've assembled some theories based solely on what drove some of us toward the Ordo Lumina. So for now, we seek to follow whatever leads we believe worth exploring and help people along the way until we can piece together enough proper intelligence to act on with certainty that it is complete. Beyond that, we certainly hope to protect the city from the threats it's not capable of handling, related to this shadowy group or not. Especially if there is a time where leads have run dry or we need to wait something out, dealing with other issues in the meantime is certainly not a waste of my resources. If it is for the good of Absalom, you may do it."
The table sits quietly and listens to your concerns in varying degrees of intentfulness; Kotri nods quite a fair bit as she hears you ought, while the guard remains steely and quiet. Once you've said your peace, Aladandre begins, looking toward Shiro. "Rest assured, Mister Berthomie, that we would not have called you here were all dhampir, regardless of whether they wish to harm innocents, within our sights. Our focus is on the protection of this city, not on a zealous campaign of cleansing. The Church of Pharasma is only one of the major players in this group, and even they have lent us an agent who is a Dhampir. If we were to begin culling people sight unseen, perhaps Sarenrae's agents would take issue with such a thing." He turned his head toward the elf, who nodded at him. "Likewise, Miss Fortuna, if someone has decided to raise the read for purposes beyond the harm of others, and can prevent them from causing mayhem in their wake, then we will have no reason to turn our attention to them. The Pharasmans will not approve, but this is not the campaign of a single ideology."
Kotri addresses Mirabelle. "Well my dear, simply put, we didn't know the extent of things ten years ago. Gilliam and I were tasked with investigating the rumour of vampires preying on folks in the Westerhold district, and became permanently assigned to keep watch on the city. Occasionally, we would work with the churches of Sarenrae and Iomedae to deal with potent threats that the two of us couldn't handle alone. It was only eight months ago that we began working with Alandre and extending our ranks past agents of faith already fighting monsters. In the past four, we have been tapping into our connections and seeking those who could help our cause, which is how we came upon you." As she speaks, her husband comes out with another tray of tea and potatoes, setting them down onto the other side of the table before grunting and limping back to the kitche once more.
Alandre prods at his potatoes with his fork longingly as he tends to Mirabelle's other concern. "If your family already knows what you do, then there is no fear in telling them that you have merely found long-term work in Absalom. It's hardly a lie, but it is vital that the exact purpose of what we do remain a mystery for both our protection and theirs. However, since you all seem to be in agreement, we can move on.
"Kotri is right; I am the reason that this has come together into more than a loose afilliation between faiths in the city. Last year, tragedy struck my family in ways I still don't entirely understand, and I turned to Pharasma's church for help.The information I had to give was grace and incredibly worrisome, but they didn't have the means to act on it, so I pledged a sizable portion of my fortune to making serious the effort to act on that knowledge, which is what we have done for the past six months. Church coffers can't afford to fund a campaign of investigation unless it's a direct threat to their church, but they have no problem with accepting my funding to do so. And we gained a proper name; the Ordo Lumina. Over the months, we gained more agents; people who like me stumbled to divine experts for guidance and answers in our terror, and who were willing to offer their aid and skills to those in need of help. You six mark the first that we have sought out intentionally.
"In the passing months, we've come to believe that there is more at work than the occasional disgruntled reject of the Arcanarium dabbling in necromancy, that there is something long-lived and vile pulling the strings of this city. The churches have suspected as much for a few years now, but our intelligence has made it almost certain. We don't yet know who or to what end, but hopefully with you to swell out our ranks, we could find out. So in short, we've assembled a secret society to combat other, more malevolent secret societies."
Once everyone has taken their seat at the table, all six of you facing the line of strangers, the woman in a city watch uniform speaks first. "I'm sorry if you're put on edge by any of this. I seem to be the only one here who could do without all the cloak and dagger theatrics." She looked specifically to her right, to the balding man and beyond him to the elven woman, then heaving a sigh as she turned to the dwarf by her side. The rat-faced human took a seat at the end of the table, eyes darting nervously about, while the other end was taken up by an oddly dressed man in a leather coat and a hat tilted forward to obscure most of his face, rounding out the group that was perhaps just as odd as the one assembled on the opposite side of the table. "You were told this was one of the nicest inns in the city, weren't you?" Her voice was edged with the utter lack of nonsense or fancy, standing out rather sorely amid the other colourful characters on other sides of her with a stony expression tinged with overcompensatory seriousness.
The balding man beside her waved his hand as if dismissing the issue entirely. "There's more important things to talk about," he muttered, straightening his collar out as his eyes scan over you one by one. You can feel everyone else's eyes doing much the same, sizing you up, almost suspiciously keying into certain details; manner of dress, major facial features. Anything to ensure that you're you. "For starters, why you're here. Thank you for coming; I worried some people would have been suspcious about the oddly accurate arrival of mechanical birds carrying vague messages, but here you are. You deserve answers, and fortunately, I have them for you.
"My name is Alandre Burton, and I own the Gilded Unicorn, along with many other businesses in Absalom. The letters were mine, and I am the one who wishes to 'hire' you, in a sense. As... 'theatrical' as my letter may have been, I believe it resonated with each of you in some way. You have all come across people who simply do not believe or could never know. Who take refuge in ignorance or could never tell that your abilities held a different purpose altogether than what it would appear on the surface. People like to believe themselves safe, thinking that imagining that all of the dark horrors of the night would never dare leave Ustalav will keep them safe at night, but we all know that isn't true. And perhaps nowhere is that less true than in Absalom, in recent years. Kotri?
The dwarf--Kotri, apparently--nods, casting a smile in turn along the line of you as her fingers toy with the pendant she wears, the holy symbol of the goddess of life and death, a rough spiral slowly growing wider as it spins outward from its center. "We've been tracking an increase in the undead in the city over the past ten years. Things have started happening, incidents that appear isolated, and I ended up being stationed permanently in--oh dear, I didn't forget to mention it again, did I?" She looked to the leather-clad man to her side, who nods. She sighs something about being so forgetful these days, shoving her necklace forward proudly. "My husband and I were inquisitors for the Church of Pharasma, recently retired, in a sense. Now we run Mister Burton's fine establishment." At that point, a grizzled old human limps out of the kitchen, carrying a large tray full of ale flagons for those who had asked and tea for those who hadn't, along with plates of steaming hot spiced potatoes. His gait is a strange one, as though his right leg were missing from the mid-thigh downward and beneath his pants is a wooden replacement. He lays the food and drink down on the table and doles them out to you. "And there he is now. Won't you say hello to our new recruits, Gilliam?" He only gives a grunt as he lumbers back toward the kitchen from whence he came. "He's just a big old softie once you get to know him."
As the dwarf turns back to look at her husband go, Alandre shakes his head to you, as if to say he is anything but. "And that is as much as we can say without needing assurance from you that we have your trust and cooperation. We wish to extend our clandestine operation within the city of hunters and experts who can deal with the growing undead threat, but operating in secrecy comes with certain limitations and the need to keep our intelligence close. Our mission is to do good and protect the city, but anything beyond this point needs a promise from you that you will help us. You will be paid for this, of course. It's work, and the chance to help people, if little else."
Oops, okay so I forgot to post this but meant to. Here is just a quick rundown of relevant lore shit for the setting:
Absalom is the city you are in. It is the biggest city in the world, and sort of the central hub of everything. It is home to a bunch of stuff, notably the Pathfinder Society, which is how they sort of justify organized play in the universe. This information has importance later on in the plot, and it's sort of an international group of adventurers from all nations who do missions generally for the purpose of keeping shit intact and not destroyed. The specifics are unimportant, by and large.
Another place that'll get mentioned a lot, and which I want to clear up jsut for the sake of it not being total nonsense to you, is the nation of Ustalav. It's basically where all the gothic horror shit happens, there's vampires and werewolves and shit everywhere and it's full of small villages full of superstitious townfolk with pitchforks. Fantasy Not Eastern Europe, if you will.
Major deities that don't need religion checks to know about that are bound to come up frequently include:
Pharasma, the Neutral goddess of life and death. Sorta Psychopomp-ish, oversees recently departed souls and shit. Importrant to stress that she abhors undead, and that plenty of her agents' stated missions are to put down undead.
Iomedae, LG goddess of war. Imagine every typical Paladin trope ever if it were a god, and you have Iomedae.
Sarenrae, NG goddess of the sun, redemption, and healing. The whole 'healing' thing often puts her at odds with the undead and forces of evil too.
Asmodeus is big bad LG evil god who rules Hell. He's worshipped in Cheliax, which is the evil nation.
Urgathoa is the NE goddess, and general originator of, the undead.
There are other gods who, when mentioned, I will note don't need a knowledge check to know the most basic of things about. The more obscure a god, the more I'll insist people make some rolls to learn things, but it never made much sense that all the major core deities be hidden behind rolls to even recognize the names of. Especially here, where I figure you're undead experts, you're going to know the symbol of the goddess of death on sight.
Sorry Mismeia, just make your introduction in a spoiler or something, we're gonna keep the ball rolling.
Margaret and Shiro:
You identify the faint voice running beneath Mismeia's and speaking her same words as a common symptom of the possession of a psychically turned individual by a spirit whom the possessee is capable of controlling to some degree, rather than one where the victim loses all control of themselves.
Once the curtains are all drawn and a second check is made to ensure the door is indeed locked, the dwarf shouts toward the back, "We're all clear!" and pulls from beneath her shirt a holy symbol of Pharasma, which she lets fall down like a necklace as she moves back toward the bar, grabbing the slightly taller chair that lets her sit eye-level with humans. "And nobody drew a weapon," she says, smiling at you as she speaks in a calmer, more casual volume. "It's rare for one person not to feel like they're being set up, but for six of you to remain calm? I haven't seen that in all my many years."
A few people walks down the stairs, one a very well dressed man in likely his sixties, a little too well fed, but with the gaunt face of someone who could use much, much more sleep than they're getting. The crown of white hair around his head but absent atop it has grown a little unkempt and long, messy in a way that stands in contrast to the immaculately clean clothes of someone of high social standing. Behind him, a steely-faced middle aged woman wearing the uniform of a city guard; those who live in Absalom recognize the seal as being that of the Petal District. They walk steadily down the stairs together while the assorted clientelle who have remained after 'closing' begin to move around the layout of the tavern room, lining up tables and setting six chairs up.
"Please, go sit down," the dwarf says smiling and urging you all toward the table being set up. "Alandre hates to do business at a bar. Lunch and tea will be arriving for you shortly, and I promise that this will all soon make a lot of sense." With that, she carries her chair off, setting it up in an open space at the middle of one side of the table, the two new arrivals from downstairs taking their places to her right.
Off at one of the tables nearer to the door, you see two people sitting there; a human man with a rat-like face and the garments of a scoundrel, and a more colourfully but still very practically dressed elven woman. You can't quite remember where, but you recognize them from somewhere.
The old dwarf looks down at the key that the blonde woman had laid down in front of her. Her eyes flash down toward it for a fraction of a second before smiling warmly up at her and nodding. "And it certainly has been paid for, my dear. Your room will be available shortly, but please take a seat and make yourself at home until then. You look quite hungry from being on the road, so I'll have my husband bring you by something for lunch, it's on the house. Your employer is willing to cover the tab on your food and drink." She looks back down at the book, quickly moving around between pages to mark that Freyja had checked in, despite not asking her name or even looking at the small room number engraved on the key. Oddly, the dwarf scans around the room with her eyes and marks off a few other boxes as well, all from people who arrived in the moments after Freyja, and who had not yet spoken to her.
But before the Paladin can do much of anything, a halfling arrives and declares her need for a drink, which brings the The Gilded Unicorn into a shambling facsimile of livelihood. All of the scattered patrons seem more alert, several of them rising from their chairs. They begin to talk and move about, looking to one another and sharing nods. The dwarf smiles toward Keleni and says, "I'll be with you in a moment, dear," before pulling out from her chair behind of the counter and moving. toward one of the patrons. She tells him that they're closing for the afternoon and invites him to return once they reopen that evening for dinner, but that all non-residents must leave during the closing period. She locks the door behind him and begins to draw all the curtains along the front side of the inn, while a rather stocky and muscular human woman does the same to the windows on the left side, with none toward the back where the kitchen is, nor to the right where stairs lead up to the second floor and the rooms.
Gameplay thread is now live. From now on, the tab to keep open is the "Campaigns" tab on your character's alias; it will show when new posts are located in either discussion or gameplay, so you don't have to keep two different threads open to check up on regularly. It will show up in the Campaigns tab from the first time you post in gameplay. Couple other things, now that we're starting, since I imagine most of you are new to how this all works.
-You can make any changes to your character sheet up until you make your first die roll. Once any of your choices come into play they're locked in, so if you have any last minute revisions or want to double check, do it before rolling dice.
-Another houserule I forgot is that we're abstracting out alignments for the purposes of shit like Detect Alignment and all. Makes intrigue games so much less fun.
-The forum has a die roller, and BBCode support. You can see the codes in the info box inside of the post box. In terms of format, the OOC tag is for all of the out of character stuff and making mention of gameplay stuff or asking questions. So if you're casting a spell, you would prose out the casting and then in OOC note what you're casting.
-Spoiler tags will be used to relay information based on rolls like Knowledge and Perception, but also in the event someone breaks off from the party or something comes up that only one person knows. As a result, don't open spoiler tags that aren't for you. If there's an extended period that you will be communicated in spoiler tags with--like going off on yourself--then please also use spoiler tags.
-I will be handling initiative rolls, and will explain how I handle combat in play by post once we're in the first combat; I don't want to swamp you.
-The post format, beyond using OOC, is as such: put bold tags around any dialogue in addition to quotation marks so that they stand out from prose, and keep any thoughts or writing to italics.
-Please fill the class field in your profile with the following information, so that it will appear under your name. Leave the rest of the fields blank and just fill all of this line into Class. This will give me easy reference to all of the important info like your saves and shit.
Gender Race Class Level | HP 0/0 | AC 0, Touch 0, FF 0 | CMB 0 | CMD 0 | Fort +0, Ref +0, Will +0| Per +0 | Init +0
Doing so will help me make things go by a lot smoother.
I’ve come to understand that you are one of a particular skillset that many would believe useless in the modern world. One way or another, you have come to learn that there are things lurking in the shadows, unknown horrors and creatures beyond death that plague this world in much greater number than any ‘normal’ person may suspect. Too many deaths in this world have been labeled a mystery by a town guard out of their depth, where the horrible truth would lead to a dark cult or something nobody could even name. Convincing those whose lives have not been tragically torn asunder by this knowledge is folly, but the greater folly still is in letting darkness run rampant through the world. I have come to suspect certain things that I cannot say in a letter, lest it find its way into the wrong hands, but ill omens have forced my hand, and I can no longer sit idly by and let the darkness deepen and proliferate.
You have been sought out with painstaking effort, word of your deeds coming to me through every channel and connection I have. I understand this is an odd request and an unconventional manner of delivery, but if I am correct, then the things I have alluded to above will strike a chord with you, and that you not only believe me, but understand what I am asking. I have a great need of your abilities, because threats linger on the horizon that will surely spell doom if there is no united front to stand against them.
If you are willing to help, please make haste to The Gilded Unicorn in Absalom. It is one of the finest inns in the city, and within this envelope you will find the key to a room that has already been paid through the next month. Lay low there and await further correspondence. Discretion is vital. I promise a reward for your consideration of my offer that will make up for the travel and the mystery.
The letter finds you no matter where you are, no matter how far removed from anyone who knows your name. It's carried on the clanging wings of a clockwork carrier pidgeon, an odd piece of mechanical work that flutters by, drops the letter, and just as swiftly leaves before you can process any of what's happened, without any discernable means of actually navigating anything or finding you. But as you look back down at the letter, the least of your problems seem to be the nagivating ability of mail delivering constructs.
Whatever your reason, a sense of duty to answer this call for aid or mere curiosity about the intentionally vague wordings and postal capabilities you never knew possible, you find your way in front of The Gilded Unicorn nonetheless, and you can't say you're particularly stunned by what stands before you. "One of the finest inns in the city" seems rather average as far as inns go, intact and clean but hardly a lavish lap of luxury like the wording implied and like anyone would hope for. But at least you're not footing the bill for whatever you're about to get into.
The interior is a little bit nicer, still rather middle of the road as far as inns go, but the ground floor tavern is not only tidy, but composed in the middle of the afternoon, with a few scattered people sitting alone or in pairs at tables. It's quiet and peaceful, in a good enough part of town to not be flooded with mid-afternoon drunkards already causing far too much noise and chaos. A kindly old dwarven woman sits at the counter, alternating between looking to the door and looking at a log book opened up before her.
Just make your entrance, we'll move on once everyone's arrived.
Sorry guys, been a tumultuous couple of days. Helping Mirabelle through a crunch redesign as she wants to go into Rogue, but I think once she's done that'll be everything, and we can get rolling. If there is anything else you guys need to know first, ask away, but otherwise I think we've got this.
Okay people, this is where you will congregate and discussify shit until we're all ready to start the game. Keep this thread open in a tab or something until then. Ask any questions you may have as far as things not listed here goes, and if you are new and don't know how to make your characters, I will help you via Skype. Use Myth-Weavers for your character sheet if you don't feel like formatting a text statblock by hand (although if you do, thank you), and put the link to that into your character profile, along with a spoiler block containing your backstory info shit for reference.
Build rules are as follows:
-25 point buy
-Starting level 3
-3,000 gold pieces starting wealth
-Two traits
Some house rules to note:
-No maps, gotta narrate everything
-Don't worry about carrying capacity; leave Strength at what you need it to be, and don't fret about having rations while being in the city.
Will field any other questions you have. Game starts when everyone is done.
Ignore this post, just setting up a game for friends.
Full Name
Angelic Eidolon Galatea
Race
Eidolon
Gender
Female
Size
Medium
Special Abilities
Darkvision, link, share spells
Alignment
LG
Strength
16
Dexterity
12
Constitution
13
Intelligence
7
Wisdom
10
Charisma
11
About Angelic Eidolon, Galatea
Angelic Eidolon Galatea
LG Medium outsider (good, law)
Init +1; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 14 (+1 Dex, +4 natural)
hp 7 (1d10+2)
Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +2; +4 vs poison
Resist acid 5, cold 5
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee slam +4 (2d6+4) or
_____ 2 claws +4 (1d4+3)
_____ unarmed strike +4 (1d3+3 nonlethal)
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 11
Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 15
Feats Power Attack
Skills Knowledge (planes) +2, Knowledge (religion) +2, Perception +4, Profession (homemaker) +4
Languages Common
SQ darkvision, evolutions (biped form, improved damage (slam), improved natural armor, limbs [arms], limbs [legs], resist acid, resist cold, slam), link, share spells
Angel
Hailing from the higher planes, angel eidolons are creatures of exquisite beauty. They usually appear in idealized humanoid forms, with smooth skin, shining hair, and bright eyes. Angel eidolons are impeccably honorable, trustworthy, and diplomatic, but they do not shy away from confrontation when facing off against evil and its minions.
Alignment: Any good.
Base Form: Biped (limbs [arms], limbs [legs], slam). Base Evolutions: At 1st level, angel eidolons gain the resistance (acid) and resistance (cold) evolutions. They also gain a +4 bonus on saving throws against poison.
