Success! You free Kerm and escape without further incident.
As Sovukh begins sawing away at the vines with his knife, the vine retracts suddenly as if recoiling, and Kerm thumps to the ground.
"Thanks Sovukh. Let's get out of here!"
The group breaks through the treeline, the vegepygmies chasing after. Bone spears whizz through the air near the men's heads, but once they hit sand they're in the clear. The vegepygmies crowd at the treeline, angrily thumping their chests or pounding rocks on tree trunks, but they don't dare follow beyond the protection of the jungle. The last rowboat awaits the pirates, and the ship in the bay is already beginning to unfurl her sails.
A +2 ties with the passive difficulty for these obstacles, so you succeed at minor cost. In this case, I'm going to introduce a complication.
Sovukh's keen eye spots the signs of buried traps in the earth, the darkness proving no obstacle for his orc eyes. His companions, eager to make it to the safety of the ship, are less careful. The group charges through the undergrowth, Sovukh blazing the trail around the traps. Just as they make the treeline, Sovukh hears a scream from behind him. Kerm's taken a wrong step and now he hangs by the leg, suspended from a tree by a tangle of vines and hollering his head off. "NO! Help! Don't let them get me! Somebody help!" Further back, it sounds as though the vegepygmies have managed to make it past barrier. The beach is visible through the trees, the last rowboat waiting on the sand.
So now you've got a choice to make. Kerm is Caught in a trap. This seems like it could either be an Overcome to free him from the trap or a Defend to fend off the the oncoming vegepygmies. Or you could leave him for dead and make for the boats.
Yes, it would be silly not to invoke Blocked Path. Go ahead and give me a roll to overcome the Booby-trapped Jungle.
The men make haste to put some distance between themselves and the vegepygmies. The night is dark, the light from the full moon only piercing through the dense jungle canopy in scattered pools of silver.
Alright. Looks to me like a Forceful attempt to overcome an obstacle. Invoking gets you a +2 for a total of 3, so that's a success. You create an aspect: Blocked Path. You'll get a free invoke on that aspect.
Though paralyzed with fear, Sovukh's barking commands get through to the men. With the vegepygmies bearing down on their position, they fell the tree with a heave and a ho! The tree comes down, blocking the horde.
There's no time to waste feeling victorious. The block will slow them down, but not stop them; after all, this jungle is their home.
We're in a conflict. There are 4 zones, arranged basically linearly. On one side, we have the jungle with Sovukh, the men, and the vegepygmies. Inbetween is zone 2, which is another patch of jungle. Past that is zone 3, the beach. And the final zone is the water, with the ship at the far end. Per the rules, you can move across one zone for free unless there are obstacles. For zone 2, expect there to be an obstacle.
Since you succeeded to create the Blocked Path aspect by 1 shift, it has a passive difficulty of 1, so the vegepygmies have overcome it. However, if you choose to use that free invoke, it'll grant a +2 and the vegepygmies will fail to overcome it and you'll get an extra turn to try to make good on your escape.
A bright full moon shines down on a placid jungle island. A two-masted ship sits anchored in the bay, sails furled, and rowboats dot the shore. Tracks in the white sand lead from the boats into the dense trees, palm fronds swaying in the gentle breeze.
There is a disturbance at the jungle's edge. A man charges through the brush, long dark hair whipping behind him as he makes a break for the rowboats. Captain Tremain, pirate caprain and treasure hunter extraordinaire! The men of his crew follow behind, blackguards and blackhearts the lot of them, and the calm of the night is broken by the sounds of struggle.
Back in the jungle, a squad of men brings up the rear, charging desperately through the underbrush. Terrified, they stumble through the dark tangle of trees and ferns and vines. One falls into a pit trap, impaled on spikes. Another runs neck-first into the coils of a hanging snake. Behind the unfortunate stragglers, a surging horde of viny green humanoids chases them, carrying torches and bone-white spears, eerily quiet as they move through the jungle to overtake the men.
"There's too many!" whimpers one of the men. "We'll never make it! Sovukh, what do we do?" All eyes turn to one among them with skin as green as their pursuers - Sovukh Serpent-Eye!
This is the discussion thread for Shackles of Fate, part of what I hope will be the first part of my Golarion FATE project. While Pathfinder used to be my go-to system, I have moved on to game systems with narrative-forward mechanics. However, I still love the Golarion campaign setting, so I'm hoping to have my cake and eat it to by running a FATE game set in Golarion.
The player and I have a Discord that will likely be our main OOC channel. This thread is to serve as an explanation for anybody else who happens to read along so they understand what's going on, and for whatever use I come up with for it down the line.
Let's see if we can't get things rolling again, shall we? Having another NPC that actually likes Selene should help with that.
Selene's blast hits the skeleton square-on, but it doesn't seem to faze the creature. It turns its empty sockets to gape at Selene, and slowly makes its way toward her.
Sister Mardhalas dispatches a skeleton with a glowing sword and turns to the source of the sound. When she sees Selene up the hill, she grins and raises her sword in a salute. "Pharasma sends her favor upon us this night! Selene, come down her and show these whelps what real monster hunters are capable of!"
Assuming Selene joins the inquisitors below...
Falling back to rendezvous with Selene, Sister Mardhalas briefs her on the situation. "I was starting to worry this was going to take all night! But with you here, maybe we can put an end to this quickly. These undead abominations are hardier that your average skeletons. It's fitting; in life they were among the best soldiers to grace the battlefields of the Shining Crusade. They're slower in their old age, and something about the graves in this place makes it tough for them to navigate." She gestures, and Selene sees an inquisitor back-pedaling and moving between a row of graves while the pursuing skeleton pauses every few steps, as though unsure of his quarry's location.
"The big one, on the horse there? That is, or was, Sir Brendant Hoffstader, a commander in the Shining Crusade. He was a courageous man, but he met a gruesome end at the hands of the Whispering Tyrant. His restless spirit still possesses his armor, and a few times a year he materializes and starts trying to raise an army to conquer Caliphas. One day we might discover how to send him to Pharasma once and for all, but for now, if we can defeat him tonight, his soldiers will return to their graves until the next time he calls."
I hate it when the forums stop alerting me to new posts. Sorry for the delay.
Knowledge (religion):
Selene recognizes the skeletal soldiers as being of the common variety, albeit perhaps a little stronger. Sharp weapons aren't as effective as something that can smash their bones, and the cold embrace of death has left them immune to cold magic. Undead traits, DR 5/bludgeoning, immune to cold.
The horsed figure is something far more sinister - a graveknight. The foul magic that spurs this creature's unlife is far more powerful. It resists clerics' holy energies and all forms of mundane attack. It even shrugs off the effects of most spells and elemental energies. [OOC]Undead traits, DR 10/magic, immune to cold, electricity, fire, channel resistance +4, spell resistance 16.
Random question, where does Selene get the horse? Does she conjure one? I'm handwaving that she gets one, I'm just interested if you have ideas.
The robed acolyte gets a quizzical expression at Selene's report, but nods and scurries off, leaving Selene to track down Sister Mardhalas.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
8th of Rova, 4717 AR
Vojmorant Cemetery
10:30 PM
The ride to Vojmorant Cemetery is uneventful but not arduous. The fog dissipates somewhat as she gets beyond the walls of Caliphas, and the countryside surrounding Vojmorant is clear and peaceful tonight. Reaching the wrought-iron gates, Selene sees four other horses tied up nearby.
Shining Gate is located far at the back of cemetery. Selene scrambles through fields of graves going back hundreds of years as she makes her way. The farther back she goes, the fewer paths and signs she sees, but the place is littered with statues, crypts, and mausoleums bearing vaunted names, some as old as Ustalav itself.
Selene hears the clanging of steel on steel and barked battle orders becoming more distinct, and before she knows it, the great stone archway of Shining Gate stands before her. A great, twelve-foot sculpture of a valiant crusader flanks either side of the grand gate, which is currently locked shut. The inquisitors must have closed it behind them to prevent any undead from getting out.
The gates prove no barrier to Selene. Just beyond stands a memorial to the knights and soldiers of the Shining Crusade, and beyond that the land slopes down into a valley. From her vantage point, Selene can survey the scene below. In the vast field of Shining Gate, Sister Mardhalas and her inquisitors are engaged in battle with undead knights. Selene can count no fewer than twelve skeletal foot-soldiers clad in ancient armor, and a fearsome figure riding a ghostly charger. The soldiers move slow, and the horsed figure appears content to watch and command from the rear.
Maiden's Choir is an easy landmark to spot, taking its place in the Caliphas skyline like a great eyeless socket staring heavenward unblinking. Nearby Castles Mashir (to the west) and Stryithe (east and south) keep it company, but even the splendor of the Majesty Hotel cannot blot out the great dome of Pharasma's cathedral. Made of black marble and shot through with veins of amethyst, Maiden's Choir stands as Ustalav's oldest and most magnificent claim to fame. Long before the recent relocation of the capital from Ardis, before the reinforcements of the city's walls, before even the time of the Whispering Tyrant, Maiden's Choir has been home to Pharasma's faithful in Caliphas. The cathedral has borne witness to Ustalav's many horrors through the ages, but its presence here, in the Caliphas skyline, is stone-wrought testament to the supremacy of the cycle of birth and death.
It is said by some that Maiden's Choir is the most magnificent of all of Pharasma's cathedrals on Golarion; it certainly holds some of the faith's most storied relics. At her heart sits a silver mausoleum-like reliquary, containing such holy treasures as the Sarkorin song skulls, the scroll bones of Father Gesenge, the armored Gown of Tears, and – or so goes the claim – one of the steel splinter-feathers of the goddess’s own herald.
Mother Thestia, well past her Maiden years has moved through Mother and is working her way into her Crone. Just a young priestess when the Prince moved the capital from Ardis to Ustalav, she has seen the congregation multiply in size over the years. Maiden's Choir used to be a bastion for the common faithful - farmers and laborers, mostly. These days the congreagation swells with members of Caliphas's burgeoning nobility. Through it all, Mother Thestia has done her level best to stay above the feuding and politcking of the ruling class, but the high priestess always has time for the farmhands, blacksmiths, and stonelayers. From the highest to the lowest, all are seen in equal measure under Pharamsa's eye.
Though not as militant as Kavapesta, Caliphas has need of holy warriors just the same, perhaps even moreso. The inquisitors have their own wing in the cathedral, well away from the grand domed hall where the church's services are held. Under the watchful eye of the current High Inquisitor, Sister Zetiah Mardhalas, Pharasma's red-clad inquisitors train to hunt both heretics and monsters alike. Though surprisingly young for her someone in her position, Sister Mardhalas has the hardness of a fired stake and the cutting edge of a silver dagger. Her unwavering faith in her goddess and overwhelming zeal for hunting down enemies of the faith are not wasted in Caliphas; there are enough exorcisms to be performed and ghouls in the cemetary to hunt to keep her occupied even if she had three times the number of inquisitors under her command. Though not the easiest person to get along with, Sister Mardhalas took an uncommon liking to Selene during their interactions three months ago. Impressed by the way Selene handled herself, she has snever fails to attempt to recruit the Constable into the ranks of Pharasma's Inquisitors.
As Selene wanders the halls, there are few red-coated warrors roaming about, and Sister Mardhalas is nowhere to be found. However, an acolyte who recognizes Selene stops to give her a hand. "Sister Mardhalas and the others are in Shining Gate. I expect they will be indisposed of for the evening."
Constable's Intuition:
Shining Gate is a burial ground located outside the city walls toward Wrenhyde. Specifically, it is a portion of the vast Vojmorant Cemetery reserved for the interred remains of soldiers who fought in the Shining Crusade. If Sister Mardhalas and the rest of the inquisitors are all there, it's likely that the Crusade's fallen are restless this night. Selene knows that it's maybe twenty minutes away on horseback, but less than ten by her preferred means of travel if she can get above the fog.
Cameroon is currently experiencing some civil unrest, and I happen to be living just minutes from the border with the conflict zone. The government has shut off internet to that region, as they'd done in the past. Currently, I have access; that may change unexpectedly.
I would like to emphasize that I'm in no personal danger, but if I disappear for a little while, that's what's going on. I'm pretty mobile on weekends, so I absolutely should not be disappearing at any point for more than two weeks.
High Inquisitor Mardhalas might have more information on the man. She was going to have to see her anyway; Department policy is to file all reports of undead of any kind with the Church of Pharasma.
With her light out, Selene manages to avoid attracting any more attention. The night is young, but she's not officially scheduled for patrol. Shortly, she finds herself at the Dock Street intersection. Going straight will take her back to Eskcourt, toward either Layla's apartment or her own. A left turn will lead her down to the West Docks, which was always bustling at this time of night. And to the right lies the East Docks and the insular Jade Quarter.
Not so much in your chain of command as above it. Like how the FBI aren't in command of the police; outside the context of their individual jurisdictions, they're ostensibly equals, but not really.
Knowledge (local):
Selene has no idea who this man is. The Bureau of Special Affairs was known for being unknowable, their agents included.
"Yes, I'm familiar with your record," the man says. "And as far as I can tell, you have no idea what you are. What matters is what they think you are, and there's sure to be more where that came from. So if you'd like to be tonight's main attraction for all that goes bump in the night, by all means, shine on you crazy diamond. But if it's all the same to you, I won't be sticking around for it."
With that, the man stalks off into the fog, seemingly keen to get away from the glowing city block.
He's going slowly enough that Selene can follow, if she's so inclined. If not, he disappears.
The man cracks a faint smile. "I was going to help, but you seemed to have the situation well enough in hand. You have to admit, lighting up a city block and fighting off three vampires isn't exactly the least inconspicuous thing you could be doing."
Despite his impertinence, the man complies with Selene's request. Reaching into his coat, he withdraws a badge that Selene can't help but recognize as the insignia of the Bureau of Special Affairs. Whoever this man is, he works for Mirakas Vashalnt in Whiteshaw's shadowy underbelly. "That should be sufficient," he says, replacing the badge. There's a lightness in his tone, but it never reaches the corners of his pale eyes. It's hard to tell what color they are in the glow. Blue? Green? Maybe even gray. "Who I am isn't nearly as interesting - or important - as who - or what - you are, Selene. Or, at least, what they think you are. Douse the light," he commands.
We never established this, but I'm going to assume that Selene switched back to her normal appearance some time after leaving Barragaro Road.
The fish heads covering the ground make for poor footing, and as she takes her shot, her foot skids just enough to throw off her aim. The energy passes by the vampire, creating another tunnel in the fog that terminates where the blast hits a building. The creature avoided the blast, but looks spooked. "The strigoi is powerful indeed," it says to the other.
They both snarl in pain as the light continues to burn away some of their gray flesh. "The light burns," growls the other. "Let us be done with this!" Silent agreement passes between them, and suddenly explodes into a whirling cloud of bats that take for the sky through the hole in the fog while the other nimbly scales back up the wall to disappear over the rooftops.
Combat over.
Constable's Intuition:
Something's wrong. The vampires were losing, slowly, but they still had plenty of fight left in them when they fled. The fight hadn't been a failed hunt on her part, it had been some kind of test.
As Selene stands in the fog, catching her breath after her brief exercise, she hears the sound of a pair hands clapping in applause. "Well done," calls a voice through the fog. The voice was deep, masculine, and a moment later, the figure it belongs to steps out from the edge of the fog. "But you should work on your aim. Nobody likes collateral damage."
As the man steps into the glowing nimbus of light, Selene gets a good look at him. He wears armor underneath a long black coat, and the knobbed pommel and grip of a longsword poke over his shoulder. The man is lean, and there are clear traces of Kellid in his features, though it's mingled with something else that Selene can't put a finger on. A black, wide-brimmed hat sitting atop his head completes the picture.
Knowledge (religion) DC 12 or Knowledge (local) DC 15:
Aside from the black color, the man's dress reminds Selene of High Inquisitor Mardhalas - the man appears to be a Pharasmin Inquisitor.
Perception (without senses) DC 20:
The coat looks familiar. Selene's certain that she's seen it before - riding on a horse toward Wrenhyde.
Cool, I'll check out the table! I've got no problem with that plan whatsoever. Just a full round action to break the barrel and pick up the improvised stake. But based on her knowledge, Selene knows that they're resistant to physical damage that's only bypassed by silver; a stake is relatively useless until the vampire can be incapacitated. In fact, she got a short lesson in the effective methods of hunting vampires from High Inquisitor Mardhalas during the Incident.
Thanks, I was having a bear of a time finding that formula. Also, nice rolls!
The vampire screams in pain as Selene slashes at it with her claws. Between her strike and the searing light, the damage is too much for the creature to take. Selene feels the force holding her down disappear suddenly and dozens of tiny legs on her skin. Looking down, she sees herself covered in spiders that flee the light as quickly as they can.
The other two haven't quite gotten the message yet, but as the skin continues to burn off their faces, they seem to have traded talking for pained growling and snarling. One slashes at Selene again, but its attack is turned aside by Selene's claw. The other reaches his hand out towards Selene and jerks it back toward himself. A moment later, something heavy collides with Selene's back with a thunk! Suddenly, something else replaces the stench of the burning vampire in Selene's nose, though the smell of old fish isn't much better.
Selene is no longer grappled but was hit with a barrel full of fish heads and takes 7 damage. The space behind her is now difficult terrain, due to the aforementioned heads.
I'm trying to parse the rules interactions between grapple and casting. As I understand it, your Defensive Casting roll is for casting defensively to provoke an AoO, but the DC for that is 15 + double the level of spell. Since Selene is grappled, she also needs to roll a concentration check with a DC of 14 + level of spell. Which leads me to my next question for you, as you're the SoP master - how do you figure the spell level with SoP in play?
The vampires recoil in pain as the city block glows like high noon. The creatures cast no shadows, but they burn like paper in the light. One screeches, "It burns!" Another tries to block the light from its eyes to no effect. But even as their skin smolders and smokes, Selene can see some of the damage repairing, the burns covering back over with new undead flesh. "The strigoi fears not the light," says the third, and takes a swipe at Selene. The others get a grip on themselves and pounce as well. A sharp contrast to their graceful display on the walls, the vampires strike with brutality and viciousness. Though dangerous, they lack finesse, and Selene manages just to duck and dodge away from swipes that could tear her throat out.
While the first two keep Selene occupied, the third wrenches her arm around as it grabs her from behind. "Blood still runs in the strigoi's veins," it rasps, a note of pained desperation in its voice. With the vile creature's face so close to her own, Selene gets a big whiff of the smell of rotting, burning flesh. Selene takes no damage, but is grappled.
As the light bursts forth, Selene's shadow writhes for a moment, as if seeking for some avenue of escape, before pooling in a tight circle at her feet.
Selene's blast of magic shoots upwards, leaving a clear trail as it burns off the fog. The bright light shines like a beacon as it travels, lighting up the whole street for an instant. In that brief, clear moment, Selene can see three pairs of red eyes staring down at her from the roofs on either side of the street, glinting with something like hunger.
Grinning between themselves, they each begin climbing down the walls, crawling on their hands and feet. They move with an unnatural grace but their paths are lazy, zig-zagging back and forth, and they call out to each other as they come.
"The strigoi wants to play," laughs one, nimbly crossing over a windowsill in his path. "We should oblige her," says the second, scrambling along the outside of a balcony. "But Grandfather said not to make moves," admonishes the third from the other side of the street, its tone mocking.
"The strigoi attacked first," says the second, gently tumbling in a handpring from the wall to the ground. "Yes, we have to defend ourselves," says the first, touching down a little ways from the second. "Grandfather will understand," agrees the third, leaping the last six feet or so and landing without a sound.
Through the hole in the fog, a moonbeam illuminates the street and the surrounding fog glows gently, casting an eerie pallor over the scene. As the creatures circle, Selene gets a better look at them. Their clothes were maybe once something approaching finery, but now they are now just ragged tatters. Their shirts are torn and dirt-stained, their pants are frayed, and their gray flesh is gaunt. It stretches tightly across their faces and their bald pates, the bone-structure thrown into sharp relief like a dessicated corpse, but their eyes gleam red and their tongues run over their enlarged incisors.
As they circle Selene, they begin to edge closer, slowly tightening the circle, but they seem to be enjoying their little game far too much to attack just yet.
"We've waited so long to see the strigoi for ourselves," says one of them. "Yes, ever so patiently," says another. "We've been watching for months," says the third, saliva gleaming on its teeth. "But the months feel like years," complains one. "And the years pass like days," laughs another.
Knowledge (religion) DC 14:
There can be no doubt about it. These creatures are none other than the ruby-eyed gentlemen of the sewers spoken of in hushed whispers and warned of by mothers to their disobedient children - vampires. Whether they plan to feed on Selene's blood, dominate her will, or batter her into submission with their energy-draining touch is impossible to say. Selene knows all the basic vampire traits.
Knowledge (religion) DC 19:
Judging by their strange decrepitude, these aren't the usual moroi breed of vampire. These nosferatu might turn into swarms of small creatures rather than a cloud of gas, and their strange magic lets them move objects without touching them rather than dominating a creature's mind.
Initiative:
Selene
Vampires
No real need for a map for this one. There is a roughly 30'x30' area that has been unshrouded from the fog by Selene's blast, with the buildings on either side of the street. There are three enemies around Selene in a triangular formation. Selene's up first.
Ariel nods, silently accepting the arrangement before withdrawing into the fog and shadows.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The trap set, Selene mentally reviews the details and preparations she'd need to make. For one, it might be wise to let Layla know that there would be an attempted robbery at her apartment sometime in the next week, especially wit the Ball coming up. She was already nearly loosing her head over last-minute preparation; she had fussed with the dressmaker for what felt likehours, time Selene could have spent doing something useful instead.
As Selene makes her own way through the night, the hair on the back of her neck stands on end and she gets the unnerving feeling she's being watched. It was a feeling that was beginning to become familiar; she'd been experiencing it intermittently since the incident three months ago, but hadn't been able to attribute to anything. There didn't seem to be any pattern, except that it only ever happened at night, well after the sun had set. Whatever it was, it hadn't interfered with her work, but it certainly didn't feel friendly.
Perception DC 35:
There! On the rooftops! With her enhanced senses, Selene catches the barest hint of silhouette against the moon through the fog, and her ears pick up the sound of multiple pairs of feet crunching faintly up above.
Yes, somewhere in the region of 50 gp up front. In retrospect, it would have been good to establish a silver-based economy, but oh well.
Refusing to deal in her side-business of fencing stolen goods (and apparently arranging heists), Ariel directs Selene to meet her the next evening in an alley just off Barragaro Road.
Walking down Barragaro Road, especially at night, is a tour through the city's social strata. The top of the route begins just south of the well-to-do neighborhood of Eskcourt. Traveling south through Hawthorne Rows, the surroundings quickly shift once the road reaches Oracle's Alley, soon after crossing the intersection at Dock Street, which connects the bustling West Docks with Ashtown and the seedier East Docks. As one continues to push through the fog past Dock Street, they soon find themselves in the open-air market the road is famous for.
At any time of day, any time of year, rain, shine, or the usual fog, the stalls, stands, and holes in the wall are filled with hawkers, mongers, and criers selling anything and everything. Fish (dried, fresh, and braised), meat (whole, butchered, or still breathing), produce of all kinds. Used clothes, furniture, housewares and hardwares, you can find it all on Barragaro Road if just look long enough. But if one keeps going, all the way down to where the road nearly runs into Lady's Harbor, Barragaro Road offers a different sort of market. Streetwalkers ply their trade while shady characters in cloaks beckon from the shadows, offering any manner of stolen goods or illicit services. As Selene walks through in her disguise, one of those shady characters waves for her attention.
"He says he'll do it," Ariel says. She wears a rough-spun brown cloak, the hood drawn over her head. "You have the money? Good." Accepting the partial payment, she opens the sack and pours the contents into her hand. "It's all here," she confirms, stowing the payment in a pocket. "It is going to take him some time. Maybe a week or more. Your target, this Navickas woman, he says it will take some work. Good security. How should I contact you once I have the item?"
After some coy banter, Ariel finally catches on that Selene isn't interested in the usual services, that she just wants to talk. "You could have said that right from the start!" Ariel laughs. With the customary lull in business after lunch, thigns are slow enough that she can chat with Selene then and there. "Rosalind, I'm going on break."
After some cajoling and dancing around the topic of the local underworld, Selene cuts a deal with Ariel for her friend Mister Kent to steal a particular item from a private home. Ariel wants half the selling price up front, to make sure the money is real, but Selene talks her down to a quarter of the price. After coming to an arrangement, they agree upon a meeting time for Selene to hand over the coin and talk further details.
Based on information available to Selene regarding Ariel and her relationship with Barius Kent, she wasn't likely to give up any dirt directly. But Selene's looking for a way to nail Barius Kent and make it stick, so I hope this entrapment angle was a good compromise. I wanted to leave the details up to you.
Okay. Ariel is a prostitute and at this point just assumes that Selene wants what everyone else wants. It's possible I've been too subtle on that point? Also, if Selene does decide to make an appointment, she'll have to get creative about how she pumps for information. If you'd like, I can take that roll, handwave it, and move on.
Ariel scowls playfully. "What does this look like, a teahouse? I can dig some roots out of the garden and throw it in some water if that's what ye be wantin'. Otherwise, it's ale, beer, whiskey, or wine. Best be off doin' your work, but if there's something special you're wanting later on, you'd best make an appointment."
It's not my intention to roadblock, but I think I'm starting to lose focus. What's Selene's goal for this interaction at the moment?
With that Perception check, Selene also notices that Dionne's not wearing anything that would publicly identify her as an inspector. Maybe Selene isn't the only one who's incognito.
With her heightened senses, the background noise of the tavern gives her no trouble as she listens in on Ariel's conversation with Dionne. Ariel seems to drop her guard as she talks to Dionne, her accent becoming thicker and more noticeably Kellid.
Eavesdropping:
"...don't know how I can efer repay you!"
"Anything for an old friend, Ariel. But professional curiosity makes me wonder, what was he doing with a freaky painting like that, anyway?"
"He would not say. Something about this new 'patron' of his. I told him if he was looking to join up wif a gang, the Wild Bunch would be more than good enuf, but he wouldn't haf any of it."
Dionne's voice is suddenly sharp, dropping to a harsh whisper. "I've told you all never to use that name! You never know who's listening in this town."
"I'm sorry, Dionne. Forgif me."
"And watch your accent. It's slipping. I told you, if you're gonna make it in Caliphas, you've got to blend in. Outsiders like us don't belong, and they'll never let you forget it. Anyway, tell me more about this new patron he's got. Who could have any use for something like that?"
"He doesn't talk much about it. All I know is that he has been spending more time in the Jade Quarter."
"The Jade Quarter? He's getting mixed up with the Syndicate, then. That's bad news. He might have been better off if I'd left him in that cell."
"Do not say such things! Please, there must be something that you can do?"
"Maybe. I'll have a chat with him, but I'll have to make some arrangements. You're sure this is the guy for you? You're a pretty girl, Ariel, and you've come a long way already."
"All thanks to you! Yes, I am sure. Barius has his problems. But when he looks at me, he sees me. Not tavern wench, not whore, not Kellid. Just me, Ariel."
"Alright, alright, if you're sure. Anyway, I've got to get going. Hoptler's got a hair up his ass today, and I've got a lot of work left back at the office. Keep your nose clean, kid. I'll be back for a plate of Grimm's meatballs soon."
After their brief conversation, Dionne stands up and leaves without having ordered anything. Her eyes scan the room as she approaches the door, her eyes passing over Selene in her disguised form without noticing anything amiss.
Assuming Selene doesn't leave immediately after...
After a few more minutes and a few more patrons, Ariel finally makes her way to Selene's table. "How were the meatballs?" she asks, her Kellid accent now almost entirely disappeared.
After finishing the meatballs, which does indeed take awhile, Selene has some time to sit and digest. And to watch.
Grimm's is a typical dockside tavern with the typical dockside patrons. While she sits there, Selene witnesses a game of cards at one table nearly devolve into a brawl, merchants and captains making deals, money changing hands, and drunk patrons patting wenches and getting slaps in return.
As the lunch rush dies down and people trickle back out into the fog, an unexpectedly familiar figure enters the bar. A tall blonde woman with a cocksure grin and swaggering affect takes a seat at a far corner in Selene's section. Disguised as she is, Dionne doesn't recognize Selene as she passes by.
Perception DC 25:
Are Dionne's ears... pointed? It's difficult to make out with her hair hanging down over them, but it appears that slight points are sticking out of her hair.
It doesn't take more than a few moments before Ariel makes her way over to Dionne's table. From her positioning, Ariel's body partially blocks Selene's line-of-sight on their interaction.
Sense Motive DC 20:
For some reason, it looks like Dionne is known here. And getting preferential treatment. To Selene's trained eye, Ariel's body language is much different all of a sudden. Minimized, subservient, grateful?
She nods. "Tha'd be fine, or ye can sit around and have a few drinks. Those meatballs will take you awhile. Make a day of it," she winks.
When she returns, she delivers a steaming bowl of meatballs, swimming in brown gravy, with a hunk of rye bread on the side. Each is roughly half the size of a man's fist; together, they'll make for a very full meal. Selene's heightened senses can easily detect the various flavors, even covered in gravy. The chicken meatball is coated in various peppers and was smoked before cooking, the lamb-and-pork meatball was basted with green herbs and some red pepper for kick, and the beef meatball has warm notes of nutmeg, ginger, and allspice along with the onion and garlic, and was browned in a red wine sauce.
"Got a couple o' choice brews none o' the other taverns haf got. Grimm's got some friends, orders 'em special." She rattles off a few different imported ales and beers from around the Inner Sea, a bottle of elvish wine from Mierani Forest, and a dwarf firewhisky -Dragon's Breath. "Dragon's Breath is new just this month. Dwarves don't like lettin' that one outta the mountains. As fer the rest, ye can't order off the menu durin' lunch rush, so if there's something special ye be wantin' you'll haf to come back later."
After Selene finalizes her order, Ariel sends it to the kitchen and returns to taking care of her other patrons.
Constable's Intuition:
She's clearly expecting that you're here for more than food and drink, and she doesn't seem happy about it. More to the point, she doesn't seem happy that you're here during peak hours. She might be willing to make arrangements for a later time.
A cool look passes across Ariel's face momentarily before rattling off the day's menu. "Toady, mutton stew's on wif leek and potatoes, we got fish and chips, and our Grimm's famous meatballs," she says. "Meatballs are the best, naturally, but they'll cost."
Knowledge (local) DC 10:
Grimm's Grinns is indeed famous for their meatballs. The recipe is secret, but each of the three meatballs is made with a different meat and blend of spices in a rich gravy.
Sense Motive DC 12:
The meatballs aren't the only "best" thing on the menu that will cost. She's feeling you out.
Since we've had this extended break, it's a good time to take a different tack if it's needed. I went back and re-read a lot of it, and it actually reads pretty well, which I'm pleased about on both our behalves. That said, I'm also aware that the scene-by-scene pace drags on extensively. Do you prefer lingering over the scenes and interactions the way we've been doing, or would you prefer to move things faster, even if it means hand-waving the details?
I looked over the Ultimate Intrigue rules, and I can't say that I was too impressed with what I read. I don't think I'll be incorporating any of the additional sub-systems.
The bartender nods casually, the request barely warranting his notice. Between Skoli's information and the well-earned reputation of dock-side establishments everywhere, it's a fair bet that he gets questions like this one a lot. "Have a seat over there," he says, gesturing to a section of smaller tables for individual diners. "She'll be along shortly."
The designated section, like the rest of the tavern, is packed with diners and drinkers. There seem to be two serving girls working this corner; during the lunch rush at Grimm's Grinns, turnover would be high. One is a portly dark-haired girl of the usual mixed stock, maybe a little more Ustalav than average. The other is a taller blonde with green eyes and more striking features. The bartender throws a glance her way and she acknowledges Selene's arrival as she delivers a tray of stew and bread to another customer.
While she waits, Selene takes the opportunity to take in her surroundings. Most of the tavern was filled with sailors and longshoremen on leave or at lunch, with large tables for rowdy crews. Her section took up a smaller portion of the establishment, reserved for individuals or pairs. The patrons on this side appeared marginally less wild and seemed to be composed of a mix of merchants, sea captains, and locals.
After about ten minutes, or so, Selene starts to get the impression that she's being kept waiting on purpose, the way the wenches revisit some of the tables to refill drinks and bring the occasional additional course, when Ariel finally comes around. "Gudday luf, what will you be having?" She's got the easy sort of false friendliness expected at a place like Grimm's Grinns, and there's definitely traces of Kellid in her accent. Up close, Selene can see faint pockmarks on the girl's face, traces of healing acne scars that make her look as if she's just beyond adolescence, but there's something hard about her eyes.
Constable's Intuition:
Ariel's Kellid, no doubt about it. Grimm's Grinns may not be the most upscale wine-and-dinery in Caliphas, but it's one of the nicest places on the docks. As cosmopolitan as the city aspires to be, the racial rifts in the local populace run deep. Kellids are on a low rung in the social ladder. It must have taken a lot of hard work for a Kellid girl, even a pretty one like Ariel, to find work at a place like this, and she'll probably never get any higher.
Training ends the first week in August and then I'll be moving to my permanent site. My plan is to return to regular posting in this game by the second week of August. How does that sound to you?
Hey there, I'm in the last stretch before leaving for Cameroon! I'm flying to DC tomorrow, set to leave the country next Wednesday. I'm not sure what my posting schedule will be like going forward. I intend to get some more posts up before leaving, but if you don't hear from me for over a month, that means this is the last internet access I had.
Whatever happens, I want to thank you for this opportunity and for sticking with it this long. It's given me the opportunity to get a lot of stuff out of my head and onto paper, and I've had a great time!
This place is above-the-boards. Bribes are welcome anywhere, but there probably isn't any need to go flashing the badge around. It isn't unheard of for people to request a specific server, especially if they're known for providing extra services. The path of least resistance is simply to ask.
The barman takes little notice as Selene dumps the unconscious man in the corner, and Skoli just shakes his head.
The rest of the morning passes uneventfully as Selene makes her way toward the West Docks. Passing through Ashtown, the fog is supplemented by the haze of dirty smoke. Many of the buildings are flecked gray with a coating of ash, the product of the district's dirty industry. Ashtown is alive and filled with the sounds of people working, in stark contrast to the stillness of the East Docks. Despite the activity, it isn't difficult for Selene to find an empty alley to make good on her transformation. The gruff-looking man from Fume End emerges on the other side of Hawthorne Rows a patrolling constable.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
12:00 PM - 7th of Rova, 4717 AR
Grimm's Grinns, West Docks
The West Docks are bigger and busier than their counterpart on the other side of the peninsula. The sooty and smells of Ashtown give way to a salty sea breeze down by the water. The fog is lighter here than in the choked streets of the city, and the black-and-purple-sailed ships of Caliphas's navy can be seen across the harbor. Ships of all kinds are moored here while sailors and dockworkers crowd the piers, loading and unloading cargo, while captains treat with customs agents and barter with merchants.
Grimm's Grinns is a popular watering hole just a couple of streets off the docks, frequented by sailors and merchants alike. The atmosphere is much more lively than the Wretched Wraith, and looking at the colorful clientele, you'd think the circus was in town. The place is buzzing with the lunch rush, and wenches are busy ferrying trays of food and drink to the hungry patrons.
Selene quickly finds herself talking to nobody as her first blow knocks the thug unconscious. The body goes limp and crumples to the ground, the man's weapon clattering out into the fog.
Combat over.
Selene stands alone on an empty street in the East Docks, enshrouded by fog with a body at her feet.
Unfortunately you won't be able to use Warp. The thick fog prevents line of sight until you get the Unseeing Warp talent.
Stepping back out into the blanket of fog, Selene is caught unawares as she's attacked from the side - the Varisian from the bar. "You will pay for your arrogance," he snarls.
In his hand, he clutches a long knife, curved like the tooth of some wild animal. His hand trembles, but from anger - or fear? It was a lucky hit, and reckless of him to start a fight in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day. Fog or no fog, he has no idea the trouble he's in.
Now exposed, the man attacks again. What his strikes lack in finesse, they make up for in unpredictability, and he scores another his, slashing Selene's arm. "I don't know who you are, but these insults will not stand! We won't be pushed out so easily!"
Selene takes 13 damage. The fog grants concealment to creatures within 5 feet (20% miss chance) and total concealment beyond that (50% miss chance, can't use sight to locate) as per the fog cloud spell.
Skoli pockets the money and wipes his hands on his vest. "Well she's a woman, ain't she? She's got yellow hair, blue eyes. Probably some Kellid blood'd be my guess. Blokes say she's got what counts, but if you're askin' me, all your women kinda look the same, right?" Finishing his drink, he taps his fingers on the bar. "Better watch what you're doin', friend. Kent gets put away, you're liable to make some new enemies, and I'm not talkin' 'bout the Watch. Friendly advice is all."
Skoli furrows his brow and chews his bottom lip. "'s no good getting mixed up with police-folk. Bad f'yer health," he says, shaking his head. "That one was free."
Taking another gulp, the rat-faced halfling wipes the dribbling beer from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Barius Kent is a very popular man these days. Lots o' peeple askin' abou' him, you're the fourth one this week. If you're wantin' him pinned, I can tell you where to find his fence, but it'll cost. Twenty gold marks."
Assuming Selene ponies up the cash:
"Kent's never been very good at unloading his stuff, at least no' on his own. Word on the street is he's got hisself a new beau been helping him out, name of Ariel. Like as not she's the one who does his selling. She works down at Grimm's Grinns down in the West Docks, and she'll serve you more than dinner if you got coin."
Constable's Intuition:
Knowing Skoli, there's always more info to be had, for a price. The only question is if it's worth it.
"We are not that close," growls the Varisian, clearly unhappy with the interruption.
"What he means," interjects Skoli, trying to smooth things over, "is that he thanks you for the drink, and that you're welcome to wait over there." He gestures back to the end of the bar with the drunk.
With Selene waiting a safe distance away, Skoli and the Varisian finish their conversation in a matter of minutes. Once their business is complete, the Varisian man leaves with some haste, giving Selene a dirty look as he scoots past. Skoli reaches into his vest pocket, pulling out a pocket watch. Checking the time, he waves Selene over.
"Sorry about him. My clients don't take interruptions well. You can understand, I'm sure." Replacing the watch, he takes a drink from his beer, holding the oversize mug with two hands. "You lookin' for some dirt, then. Who's your man?"
This week I acquired a copy of Ultimate Intrigue. I'm looking through it to see if there are any mechanics I like; the Verbal Duel mechanics might work out better than the static Diplomacy and Intimidate rolls for situations like this.
As Selene changes her form, her shadow on the wall hesitates a moment before morphing to match.
"Yeeessh, dwink! Tank yew, ma frrrend" drawls the drunk, apparently still conscious. "Not fer you," the bartender growls at the man in admonishment. As he pours the drinks, Selene looks over the drunk and realizes that she's seen him in here before when she's come to see Skoli. Maybe he's just a local, but there's something about the man that gives Selene the impression he's not as inebriated as he appears.
"That's very kind o' you," says Skoli, smiling and gesturing to the next stool. The Varisian man glares at Selene, less tolerant of the interruption. "Wait your damn turn," he barks. "Now, now, don't get sore," Skoli says to the man. "What's the matter with you, treating a new friend like that? Take the drink, we'll get back to it after." Once the other man is placated, Skoli turns back to Selene. "T'what do I owe the pleasure?"
With Dionne vaguely out of the picture, Selene has some time to try to set things right. Her tip on Barius Kent had been good; if he hadn't had some luck fencing the rest of his haul, she would have had him for sure. With that in mind, she knows exactly who to talk to - Skoli the Snitch.
11:00 AM - 7th of Rova, 4717 AR
The Wretched Wraith, East Docks
Skoli the Snitch is a vile, parasitic member of Caliphas's overcrowded underworld. Making his way as a broker of information both innocent and illicit, he's known by everybody and trusted by nobody. Rather than hindering him, his reputation makes him useful for those looking to weaponize dirt on their enemies. Skoli plays a dangerous game, but he plays it well enough that the bigger fish let him play lamprey without much hassle.
Like all such denizens of disrepute, Skoli is a creature of habit. His favorite haunt is a dingy dockside tavern called The Wretched Wraith out on the East Docks. The East Docks are smaller than the West Docks on the other side of the peninsula; far from Castle Mashir and the Harbormaster's watchful eye, the the dockhands here are rougher, the captains are shadier, and the shadows are deadlier.
The Wretched Wraith's name is the only honest thing about it. Situated in a building jutting off the side of a rotting warehouse like an afterthought, it's barely got room for the length of the bar and stools that run down it. Not much room for fighting, it's a perfect hovel for Skoli's kind of lowlife.
This time of day, the place is mostly deserted. Most of the gutter rats won't come out until the sun goes down. All told, there's one gruff barman cleaning glasses, one drunk slouched over the bar, and one pair of shady characters huddled in talk at the end of the bar. As she approaches, Selene can make out a shifty Varisian man (probably Sczarni) and a rat-faced halfling - Skoli the Snitch.
Layla smiles at Selene's request, the gears in her mind already turning. "Selene, darling, you know how much I hate needlessly involving myself in petty squabbles," she says, playing innocent. "But since you're being such a good sport about the Ball, I think I can do you this one little favor. Leave it to me. Now run along, little scarecrow, best you not know about the details." Standing back up, she shoos Selene out of her office, closing the door behind her on the way out.
That's fine with me. I'm beginning to enjoy Layla and it will be fun to see what other messes she can get Selene into.
Layla taps her cheek, imagining Selene's proposed outfit on her. "Oh, that's darling, darling," she exclaims as inspiration strikes. "Of course, it's the Harvest Ball, we should dress for the harvest! What a wonderful idea Selene, you would make such a stylish scarecrow, I'm so glad you thought of it! I'll have to think of something to match, better make that appointment with Alouette for tomorrow to give me some time to think."
Sitting back down at her desk, she twitters happily as she fiddles with her calendar. After a moment, she looks back up at Selene, almost surprised to see her still standing there. "Was there anything else you needed, darling?"
There's an excellent Golarion calendar that I've been using for reference. All options are set to the default, but I'm using the 4616 calendar year due to a mistake.
If you haven't seen it, I wouldn't worry too much. It's more of a thematic inspiration; the Chinatown district isn't a major setting in the movie. That said, the theme of the movie itself is an inspiration for the central ethos of my version of Caliphas. The Jade Quarter district itself has a lot more Big Trouble in Little China going on.
Countess Caliphvaso:
Countess Carmilla Caliphvaso is the beautiful and cunning ruler of Caliphas county, and is therefore technically Selene's boss. Known in certain circles as the "Queen of Caliphas", the Countess is an outspoken critic of Prince Ordranti. It is no secret that she desires the throne for herself and resents the decision made by Prince Valislav Ordranti (the deceased elder brother of current Prince Aduard Ordranti and previous ruler of Usatalav) to move the capital from Ardis to Caliphas in 4674 AR. Rumors abound that she is engaged in a scandalous relationship with her nephew Reneis Ordranti-Caliphvaso and intends to place him on the throne no matter the cost.
Layla gawks at Selene as she remembers that dress, her mouth hanging wide enough to drive a carriage through. Suddenly, she realizes that Selene must be joking, and begins laughing behind her hand. "Oh Selene, you slay me! You're always so dour, I never know when to expect you to make a joke like that!" Getting a hold of herself, she glides back to her desk to consult her calendar.
"The Ball is on the eve of the Harvest Moon, next Fireday. That's the 16th, and today is Wealday, do we have a little over a week. Gods, that's not nearly enough time, all the others will have had all month to prepare! Alouette will be furious with me, but I know she's be up to the task." Layla hems and haws as she agonizes over the scheduling. "It will have to be today or tomorrow."
By the way, Selene is completely free to say no to Layla or to insist on using a dress she already has; this isn't an essential plot railroad or anything.
Alright. I'll let you know now, the Jade Quarter takes inspiration from 'Chinatown' directed by Roman Polanski. The constables don't have a regular patrol there, and the locals are extremely insular. If Selene wants to compel Hoptler to commit resources for a raid, she'll have to collect more evidence than just hearsay and an address. That said, it's still well within the realm of possibility.
7:45 AM - 7th of Rova, 4717 AR
Whiteshaw
Pushing her way through the fog, Selene makes her way to work. Despite the fog, the streets are busy with the usual morning hubbub. The people of Caliphas are well acquainted with the fog. Despite (or maybe because of) the claustrophobia and undercurrent of dread that it brings with it, things are back to normal in Caliphas.
Reporting in to work, Selene receives a mindless pile of paperwork at the front desk, but no other assignments or even a summons to Hoptler's office. Days like this had become more common since the Incident earlier in the year. Hoptler seemed to think he could keep Selene pinned down with busywork, reducing her visibility and keeping her off the streets; in truth, it barely slowed her down. The average constable took hours to churn through paperwork, but Selene's efficiency had gone through the roof in recent months. What took most people a whole day to do, Selene could have down in just a couple of hours, and careful filing practices and some cooperation from the desk sergeant ensured that Hoptler was none the wiser.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
9:30 AM - 7th of Rova, 4717 AR
Whiteshaw
After her morning chores are taken care of, Selene drops by Layla's office for the morning gossip.
"Selene! Darling, so good to see you," Layla says looking up from the thick book open in front of her. She seems even more bubbly than usual this morning - there must be some seriously juicy gossip.
"You'll never guess what happened. But try anyway, won't you?" Before Selene can get a word out, Layla squeals with delight. "I have an invitation to the Harvest Moon Ball!" Standing from her desk, she saunters over to Selene, practically dancing around her small office. "You'll be my plus one, naturally, it will be so much more scandalous arriving as two lovely ladies than being draped on someone's arm, we'll be the talk of the town! We'll have to get you a dress, but I know the perfect place. Tell me darling, when are you free?"
Knowledge (nobility) DC 10 or Knowledge (local) DC 15:
The Harvest Moon Ball is an upcoming fête to be thrown by Countess Caliphvaso on the evening of the Harvest Moon at her palatial country estate outside the city. The Countess throws many such events throughout the year, but the Harvest Moon Ball is the crown jewel of the summer season. Everyone who is anyone is sure to be there.
