Of the eight Nomads, four are human, including the one you targeted. Unfortunately, the favored enemy bonus won't help a natural 1...
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Why, thank you. Erthriel is aware enough of the presence of threats (and scored high enough in the Initiative order) to merit an extra action, especially given her unfortunate positioning. In subsequent encounters, I'll follow standard rules for surprise rounds, including Perception checks.
Grant shifts in his chair, looking mildly embarrassed. "As it just so happens, I let one of my buddies borrow a bunch of minis and my game mat for an emergency, and I still haven't gotten them back. We'll have to use theater of the mind for this combat." ===== Each of you move back toward the square, fighting the fleeing crowd of townsfolk as they rush to safety. It's difficult to make out anything in the midst of the panic, but as the people start to clear out, you can see the bedraggled militia with their makeshift weapons trying to fend off the attackers. Knowledge (Local), DC15:
Everyone's heard legends of the Nomads and their reign of terror across the Reaches. Most people assume they're related to the barbarian clans from the far north, with some ever claiming they're one and the same. However, you know that Nomads are far more unpredictable and brazen than the northern barbarians, striking fast and vanishing in the wind with their spoils. One thing holds true for these wandering raiders: diplomacy is not an option. Zanessa spies Olivia hiding behind her cart, safely out of sight of the Nomads for now. The girl is frightened and tears streak her dirty cheeks, but she doesn't make a sound. Erthriel enters the square opposite the attackers, her weapon drawn and ready but spying no one to use it against. Aeshelia and Augrer charge into the square, ending up much closer to the Nomads than anticipated and surprising a few of the raiders. Enemies: The group of Nomads is comprised of eight humanoids in patchwork armor, but the weapons they carry are surprisingly well-maintained and look like they could do some serious damage. Only two appear to have ranged weapons of any kind, and they watch the skirmish between their melee counterparts and the militia eagerly, hoping for a clear shot.
"The GM has final say in all ships," Grant intones with an air of authority. The s!$#-eating grin has yet to leave his face. "For the record, I already have a captain's hat in my closet." ===== Knowledge (Religion):
Your interactions with other faiths, while generally less-than-friendly, have taught you much about their basic customs. Cyanthia's sacred promise is a sincere vow tantamount to a blood oath, for the goddess regards the betrayal of one's word with unparalleled scorn. The tavern keeper's reply is cut off by the shrill clang of metal on metal, which reveals itself to be the rhythm banging of an extremely loud bell. Shortly after it begins, a horn can be heard from outside the town - one long, high-pitched blast followed by two shorter, low-pitched ones. The bell-ringing continues, casting its cacophonous sound over every street, but you can make out panicked cries and running feet between the explosive rings. "Nomads on market day?! Run! Get out of here!" The tavern keeper frantically whisks away your drinks and runs into the back room, sliding the deadbolt into place behind him. It doesn't take a local to know the threat that Nomads pose to settlements and the people within them, and the promise of exotic goods from all over Mirgaard likely drew them in like flies to a corpse.
"Followers of opposed deities getting together over drinks? I'd ship that." Grant laughs at the absurdity of the situation. "I knew approving both your characters for the party would make things interesting, but I was expecting a completely different type of tension." Aeshelia:
"I appreciate it. Two ales, or something stronger?" The tavernkeep pulls two steins off a shelf with a flourish, his shiny smile looking as if it were glued to his face; had you not seen his more serious side a moment ago, you'd probably believe it yourself.
The tavern's only other occupant, an elderly farmer type, gets up unsteadily from his chair, toddles over to the door, and runs into the doorframe twice before managing to leave. You can see him stumbling down the street for a few seconds before the heavy door closes, leaving you in a state of relative silence. Erthriel: You manage to find a set of tracks, only to have your excitement crushed by the realization that they're your own. Try as you might, you can't find any sign that an animal passed through here at all today. As you head back to the market, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, but when you turn around to identify the source of your discomfort, all you see is a few wandering people. At least your coin purse is still on your belt... for now, anyway.
You arrive back in the square just in time to watch the caravan members, aided by local guild craftsmen and a few volunteers, fully assembling the auction stage. Judging from their movements, the items up for auction appear to be stored in a nearby building, and a list of what's being sold is on display next to the stage.
"Just doing my part to keep the mood light," Grant replies. "There'll be plenty of time for gloom and doom down the road." Augrer: The quiet of the tavern offers a welcome relief from the endless hustle and bustle of the market. The barkeep notes your appearance and makes a bit of a face, but then says, "Be careful whose name you go invoking around here, lad. Plenty of folk have lost their families and friends to your lot." In a flash, he brightens up in a way that only an experienced actor can. "Your coin's as good as anyone else's, though! What can I get for you two?"
Zanessa:
Torek shakes his head. "Bertram's hiding by now, but I bet he's close enough to know what's happening. This whole thing was his idea - you'd never believe he could lead a revolution by looking at him, let alone after spending months working side-by-side with him, but he comes through when it counts." For a moment, just a hint of admiration shines through the half-orc's grizzled stoicism. "He makes things needlessly complicated to throw the Regency off our scent, and so far, it's worked... which almost makes it worth the headache." Augrer and Aeshelia: The Explorer's Rest lives up to its namesake, with over a dozen paintings and almost as many tapestries depicting Raubert Vanselir's exploits in the years following the War of Blazes. He features prominently in each depiction, whether standing triumphantly on a mountain's peak, standing triumphantly on the banks of a river, or sitting (but still looking triumphant) by a campfire in the woods with his trusted companions.
The barkeep must also be a big fan, because he's dressed in a replica of Vanselir's most famous explorer's uniform, right down to the replica of his red-and-white striped ascot. "Welcome, friends! Come in and enjoy yourselves." Noting that the two of you make an oddly appealing couple, he adds, "Not to worry - no one will bother you during the slow hours." He snickers at his own comment.
Zanessa:
Olivia's suspicion turns to confusion as you torpedo the conversation and start to withdraw. As you walk away, though, she tries to get your attention once again.
"Miss?" She hurries up to you and puts a small object in your hand. "I think ya dropped this. Might want to keep a closer eye on this in the future, yeah?" She runs back to the cart, leaving you holding a fine broach fashioned in the form of a swimming swan. If your hunch is correct, you haven't disrupted anything; you may have just gotten your first solid lead in your search for the journal's whereabouts. Erthriel:
The fox disappears from your sight as quickly as you noticed it. Scarfing down the rest of the fried bread is an easy task, and while such an abrupt intake of horrendously unhealthy snack food might fell any lesser mortal, the gods elect to spare you from death by caloric overload, though you still hear the anguished cries of your suffering arteries.
You give chase down the alley, but even being a fast runner and having sharp senses, you fail to spot any sign of the fox. A few pedestrians mill about on their way to and from the market, giving you a curious glance as you come running by. Aeshelia: Having officially been shipped in the imagination of one impetuous girl with the paladin by your side, you find yourself on the outside of a hushed conversation between Olivia and the trio of newcomers. You know of two easily-accessible taverns nearby: the Golden Goose is cheap, modest, and has quick service, but the Explorer's Rest is a far nicer establishment and the pride of the townsfolk. With the market in full swing, it's highly unlikely that either of them will be busy until the evening comes.
The girl looks genuinely suspicious of you once you start asking about jumping the line and looking at the auction items. "Not very sportin' of ya, is it? We already signed for it and everythin' else, so don't ya go tryin' to cheat everyone else out of their chance to buy. They'll prob'ly pay more'n all of ya." She scowls and shakes her head defiantly, her bangs flopping as she moves, but something about her aggressive back-talking seems a bit... off.
"Olivia, but people call me a nuisance sometimes. I run the cart while my dad's away. I get to do it a lot, so I can tell ya what ya need to know." She ponders your question for a little while before replying, "Yeah, we do. Dad says we've got to keep the details hush-hush, but we're sellin' some real fine stuff. Should keep us in the inns for a few months on the road. Ya should bid on it y'self." She peers up at Lorek with her eyebrows raised. "Ya sure look tough, mister. I bet ya could beat that stable boy with the hammer right into the dirt."
Thanks for sharing, everyone! I appreciate getting a bit of a look inside the heads of my players now and again, and I swear I'm not collecting information to traumatize you over the course of the campaign... I glossed over my take on the question a bit, but I think the message came across reasonably well, and being the egotistical maniac I am, I enjoy the chance to share the full extent of my nerdy interests. I'm actually a relatively new GM, having gotten most of my experience from home games over the past 3 years and stepping in to run the occasional PFS scenario, so I hope that explains my overall level of caution and the occasional bout of second-guessing myself that's popped up so far. I'm happy to take my time with this campaign and keep it running for a good while, though I know it may seem like we're getting a slow start; that's my attempt at giving you plenty of time to explore your characters and the world I'm building here, as well as a rudimentary method of getting you all invested in the stories we're creating as a group. Whether I succeed or not remains to be seen... Keep up the good work!
"Carrots are always preferable to sticks. I'm just trying to put the 'RP' back in 'RPG' - you know how it goes." Augrer and Aeshelia:
The raggedy young girl purses her lips at your mention of snakes. "Not a fan o' the Regency, eh? You'd get on well with my dad. I don't know much, but 'round here, people love Vanselir." She points to the statue standing vigil over the square, the explorer's sculpted face looking fearlessly to the west. "That gives them a big ol' headache, especially since their education people can't make nice with us townies. My dad says they can't hold their feet here or somethin' like that."
Butchered figures of speech aside, it's clear that she means the Regency has been struggling with Adelveldt for quite some time. In the meantime, it seems the two of you have some catching up to do, and Olivia waggles her eyebrows at you both, though it's difficult to see beneath her matted bangs. "Don't go mashin' your potatoes too much, yeah?" Before she can get entirely too suggestive for an impressionable lady of such a young age, a pair of half-orc men and a half-elf woman approach the stall, forcing her attention elsewhere. Erthriel:
Each bite of the rich, fried delicacy inevitably takes a year or two off your lifespan; of course, living to the ripe young age of infinity gives elves some leniency in this regard, and you're no exception.
Surveying the crowds reveals a sort of complicated dance going on among the shoppers - pushing each other out of the way, taking ground wherever it's given, and a surprising lack of altercations going on during one of the busiest times of the day. A blur of movement off to your left catches your eye for a moment, but on a second glance, all you see is a fox traipsing off down an alley and disappearing from view. Being the seasoned ranger that you are, you may wonder why such a normally skittish creature would wander into this mass of people, but then again, the caravan always brings oddities trailing in its wake when it arrives in town. Zanessa: Your sweep of every conceivable cart that may contain some clues about your target brings you to the fifth merchant on the list. The cart is mostly used to display fabric and clothing with elaborate designs, though a few rugs, tapestries, and other woven goods are visible off to the side. Running the cart is a girl who looks like the living embodiment of the word 'grubby', and she seems to be discussing potatoes with the human and half-elf who are departing the stand.
As you approach, she turns to you and nods at each of you in turn. "You all lookin' to buy somethin' nice? I can 'elp - I'm in charge 'til my dad gets back."
To All Players: in the interest of fostering conversation (and satisfying my endless curiosity), what have been some of the biggest influences on your writing/roleplaying styles? What are some of your favorite stories, whether literature or otherwise? [EDIT] I realized I should have led off with some examples of my own, so here goes. As an English major (yes, I appreciated the joke earlier), I decided to study the literary works I'd admired ever since I was old enough to read. Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels are chief among them, and he's still my biggest influence and greatest role model as a writer, though I'm quite familiar with the traditional "literary canon" - it comes with the territory. Poetry, music, games, and anime are my other favorite varieties of art; I approach them with a vested interest in discovering the stories they tell, and I've always been fond of the Beat Poets, jazz, fantasy RPGs, and shows like Cowboy Bebop and Samurai Champloo (Shinichiro Watanabe is a stylistic genius).
"There's an obvious soft cap on traits to keep your characters from having too much cheese, but I'm granting custom traits that fit your characters' roles and will improve over time to stay relevant. I prefer to enable, not handicap." Grant says all this with a straight face, oblivious to his own 'granting traits' pun. ===== "That you should, young lady." Grumdil stops twirling his beard just long enough to bow courteously and wave farewell. "Enjoy your day, and be sure to take advantage of having half the world brought to your feet." Having gained all you can from the kindly dwarf, you feel better about your odds of finding and securing the journal, even though most of the details have yet to be filled in.
"Actually... I might have an idea about that. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, but I think I can make something good with this." ===== Sense Motive:
You feel like he's making a reasonable attempt to help you understand the world of trade. Beyond that, his intentions are inscrutable, and it's impossible to say what he stands to gain by telling you all this. Regardless, you feel a little wiser and are prepared to put your newfound insights to good use. You gain the following trait.
Aspiring Merchant: Grumdil's words struck a chord with you, giving you a renewed desire to master the art of bartering. You gain a +1 bonus on skill checks related to bartering or trading for goods and services, as well as Appraise checks to identify the value of goods and services you've researched beforehand. "Anything else would take more time than I currently have and lengthy explanations from someone far more patient than myself," he adds with a smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Grant takes Whitney's paper and studies it for several moments, his brow quirked with curiosity. "Well, damn. Got a hidden Lore Generation macro that I need to know about?" He grins during the good-natured teasing, but a gleam of admiration flickers in his eyes. "I'll rework the name and a few details, but for the most part, I think this will work. Thanks!" Zanessa:
Grumdil smiles knowingly at your flattery and nods. "You seem to have the hang of the most basic principle: being able to talk to people. Of course, you'll need to listen and keep your eyes open for the things people don't tell you." He twirls his beard as he speaks, seemingly exceptionally cool and relaxed at the moment. "You're selling an experience, not just your goods. Also, learn to back off when it's necessary, but don't hesitate to chase a 'yes' when you know you're doing the right thing."
He pauses to greet and wave at a few passersby. "All you have to do is figure out what mark you want to leave on the world, and then do it a little bit at a time every day. As for the auction... don't be afraid to bid with money you don't have. Also, go after what you want like nobody's business, but make sure you know what you want before you bid." He winks mischievously. Erthriel:
The bedraggled, yet cheerful gnome finally stops long enough to take your order. "It's been bombastically fantastic! One fried bread will be five silver pieces, please!" Upon closer inspection, the gnome is vibrating intensely, as if his entire body is pressurized and wrapped in a tiny earthquake of enthusiasm. "I can guarantee that you've never tasted anything like it!" Aeshelia: Olivia looks a bit offended at the implications of Aeshelia's turnip cart remark, but says nothing else about it. "Pleasure doin' business, miss. My dad'll be pleased, and maybe ya could show him what you wind up makin' out of it when ya finish." With the transaction complete, she watches your interactions with Augrer, looking more curious about him with each passing moment.
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Grant answers with a sinister little smile. "Then again, it's very possible that the Regency is just misusing the name of an honorable deity to do all the puppy-kicking themselves." After a moment, he adds, "Don't forget that if you see something you want to change - or don't see something that you'd like in the game - you can make it happen. This is the first campaign using this setting, so there's a lot of wiggle room with the lore." Augrer and Aeshelia:
Olivia just laughs and finally dredges up the cloth Aeshelia had been asking for. "The look don't always make the man, Mister Stables, but we might be able to do it for ya. O'course, if yer a do-gooder like ya say, you prob'ly don't have the gold to spare. Miss Tailor over here actually looks like she's ready for business." Tallying up the cost of materials by consulting a small chart on parchment next to the cart, she eventually says, "That'll be six silver a bolt, miss. I wager ya could get more'n your money back with what you make out of it." Zanessa:
"Oh, would that it were one of my pieces," Grumdil laments. "I can cobble something together now and again, but nothing quite as elegant as that. However, my connections and excellent social compass have served me well in the world of trading." He gives you a bit of a funny look before asking, "Looking to learn trading yourself? You might be able to turn a tidy profit if you play your hand right." Erthriel: The noon bell is already tolling by the time you reach the front of the line, and your stomach hasn't failed to let you know how ready it is for lunch. A crazed-yet-polite gnome with equally crazy hair dashes this way and that between his little cooking station and the counter, trying to speak every time he gets close. "Hello! What... can I get... for you?! Only... three of our... famous Fried-Food... On-A-Stick... left!" He hands one customer after another their finished orders, his permanent smile becoming more manic with each passing second.
Erthriel:
Thanks to Zanessa's earlier unpaid advertising, a sizable line has formed in front of Tupanuck's Fried-Food-On-Sticks Stand, with people jostling each other to get closer to the delectable smell of arterial blockage skewered on thin pieces of wood. "I heard it's the best ever!" says one prospective customer. Another replies, "And it's inexpensive!" Glowing recommendations aside, you'll be waiting quite a while for your food, but the smell alone might just convince you that it's worth it. Zanessa: The silver turtle looks at first glance to be little more than a decoration, but as your finger brushes its shell, you feel one plate give way, and the tinny tones of a clockwork music box flow from the turtle's open mouth.
"I can see I was right about that eye of yours," Grumdil says with a smug smile on his heavily bearded face. "Made that one myself back in Finnfrith, and it's been with me on the road for about thirty years now. I'd say... it's worth a hundred and fifty, that one." He nods sagely at his own estimate, and given the relative lack of similar mechanisms in Adelveldt, it's difficult to tell how much the music box's true worth would be.
Sorry, forgot to address that question earlier. The Regency outlaws arcane casting entirely, so anyone who displays the power to cast arcane spells or use spell-like abilities is breaking their laws. Magic items are strictly regulated in that only those of divine origin (crafted using divine magic, that is) are allowed; anything originating from arcane magic is banned and subject to confiscation. Similarly, the trade of such items is highly illegal, making the black market for magic items quite lucrative in areas they have trouble controlling. The Meritor Merchant Caravan doesn't officially sanction the trade of magical goods, but it can't do much to control that; since far fewer people with arcane talents are among the general populace and they rarely subject themselves to Temerian inspection, they can't go around enlisting people to detect magic on their vendors' wares.
Zanessa:
Zanessa's inquiries would reveal little about Grumdil's methods, political leanings, etc. The prices could be verified with an Appraise check, though it's obvious even without the check that his pricing runs a bit on the high side.
Perfect! Erthriel may or may not be in the Fey queen's sights already...
Added the Recommended Listening doc to the Campaign Info tab. It's still a work in progress, and I'm looking for suggestions on fleshing out the songs used. Hope you enjoy!
"Finally, someone with an eye for quality! I have one of those, and the other one's glass." He winks at you and makes a sweeping, magnanimous gesture with his arms. "Looking for something specific? I've got goods galore if you've got the gold to match."
"As much as I love clichés and well-worn conventions, I'm trying to avoid some of the obvious story traps in this one. I don't mind getting a little cheesy here and there - it's just gotta be done in moderation." ===== Zanessa:
The first few stops yield little success in your search for the rug. The guild members and independent weavers are equally tight-lipped about their techniques and connections, so it's difficult to make any headway in determining who might be sympathizing with Adelveldt's anti-Regency movement. However, the fourth stall you visit definitely catches your eye.
Even though the vendor is a listed guild member, all of his products look haphazardly arranged and don't match; every article of clothing, piece of furniture, and random trinket seems to have come from a different set, with no underlying theme to his stock. The dwarven vendor manning the cart wears a wide-brimmed hat and a fine set of clothes, with bejeweled rings adorning his thick fingers. "Good day, friends! Come to ogle at the fortunes of the great Grumdil Grindstone?" Torek looks mistrustful of the dwarf, but Grumdil pays him no mind. Aeshelia and Augrer: Once again, Olivia gives Augrer a weird look. "Ain't never had to pay the fees at Temerian checkpoints, have ya? We travel a good bit, and we have to pay for 'safe passage' and all that. My dad says it's all a shakedown to keep the people under... something or other." She shrugs, her shaggy curls bouncing comically. "That's why we make such nice stuff - we have to get our gold back on every trip."
Aeshelia's suggestion elicits a snicker from the young apprentice. "Oh, yeah! Maybe he needs a nice smock to keep people from making a mess all over his posh manners."
Agreed. Inquisitor functions quite well on the front line (particularly with a two-handed weapon), and you have a slew of strong defensive buffs/spells that will make you plenty threatening up-front. Throw in the beautiful mess that is Judgment, and you've got a nice little beatdown kit. [EDIT] I'm fine with minor rebuilds during downtime (e.g. not in the middle of a fight, dungeon crawl, or other encounter) if you guys are ever unhappy with how your characters have turned out. Since we haven't hit our first combat yet, if you feel like rearranging some of your character's ability scores or features, I'll allow it for the next little while.
Zanessa:
The list of items up for auction this evening covers a wide selection of furnishings, decorations, and tool sets in a variety of styles. Six different dwarven rugs are being sold, each one from a different weaver or guild; since the items won't be on display for another couple of hours, you'll have to wait to be able to investigate them and discern which one holds the journal.
Torek seems to be keeping a close eye on everyone you come across. Ever since the meeting with Bertram, you've been seeing a different side to the old orc - tense, wary, with the air of a predator who has become prey. It's a far cry from the blacksmith's usually calm and steady demeanor, and makes him seem more like his kin than ever before. Augrer:
The tailor's apprentice gives you an odd look, but doesn't press the topic any further. "Right. Ya one of them Regency nobs? Seen a lot of 'em carryin' them hammers and symbols like yours. My dad's always complainin' 'bout your taxes."
Erthriel: With your business (or lack thereof) officially concluded, you look down to see that your purse is still attached to your belt and no lighter than it was before. The old woman turns back to her cart and carries on with another potential customer, as if her cryptic message about the silver stag and finding the "secrets of the sun" had never been said.
Having only just entered the market a short while ago, you still have plenty of time to shop around, or you can find some other way to pass the time.
"Jay, I set this game up so you'd be swimming in plot hooks. All you have to do is pick which one to bite." Grant taps the side of his head knowingly before continuing the scenarios. ===== Augrer and Aeshelia:
Olivia resurfaces from the sea of colorful cloth with several sample swatches in shades of brown, deep red, and forest green. "Fancy any of these, miss? Azure Rose, ya say? My dad's prob'ly heard of ya. I'm just a 'prentice, so I'm still learnin' a lot. We been doin' this..." She pauses and taps her chin theatrically. "...'bout six years now, I wager. Our lot's called the Furtive Falcon, 'cause 'we don't need to make a fuss to soar above the rest'." She stands vigilantly at attention as she recites the family motto, and then grins. "It's good fun, ya know?"
Augrer's arrival elicits a quirked eyebrow from the girl as she looks your clothing up and down. "Fresh out the stables, yeah? You lookin' to clean up and make somethin' of ya'self?" She reaches into one of the cabinets on the cart and pulls out a tunic that's nice enough to fetch a good price, but still obviously made for peasants. Erthriel:
The old woman shrugs - considering one shoulder is higher than the other, they're briefly the same height as she does so. "I know how it goes, missy. The next time we're in town, I have a feeling you'll have made a bit of a name for yourself." Suddenly, she clutches your forearm and her eyes roll back in her head, her voice changing from the crackling rasp of an old hag to a deep, rich alto fit for a queen. "Follow the silver stag, good huntress. Before you leave this world, you must find the secrets of the sun." The episode passes as quickly as it had begun, and the woman grins at you with her three remaining teeth. "And don't forget to keep an eye on your pockets - there are thieves around here who are loads better than that scamp!" Zanessa: As you catch his arm, Bertram says, "Look for the swan." With that, he pushes his way through the crowd and disappears from view. Through the noise of the shoppers, you can hear someone say, "Damn it! Where's my coin purse?"
Your endorsement for Tupanuck's food stand is enough to draw a small crowd. Between his cheerful attitude and utter joy at making sales, you think it's very likely that he'll succeed . In the meantime, you, Kaden, and Torek still have the afternoon to while away as you wait for the auction to start. The auctioneer's platform is still being set up by several of the caravan's attendants, though a parchment bearing the list of items for sale has been pinned to a stake next to the platform's frame.
"Teamwork feats would be pretty cool to see," Grant admits. "I'm okay with you running two characters as long as the rest of the party has no objections, which you guys don't seem to have. I can put out some feelers and see if a fifth player would be interested in picking up Kaden as their PC, but either way, we'll figure it out once we're done with tonight's session. If you want to swing by on Saturday, we can grab lunch and work out the details." ===== Aeshelia:
As you approach the nearest tailor's cart, you notice that the designs are reminiscent of those by Lenoir Dufresne, a famous tailor from Joule-de-Mer. However, the insignia on the cart is a falcon carrying a mage's staff in its claws, which doesn't match any craftsman's mark you can recognize.
A young girl with a shaggy haircut pops up from behind the cart. "Hiya! I'm Olivia, but my friends call me trouble. Lookin' for somethin' thick, are ya? I might have just what ya need." She beams at you and starts rummaging around on the side, giving you ample time to ogle the clothing, fabric, and rugs for sale. Augrer:
For whatever reason, you've decided to chase after the cleric of Cyanthia, and you find her a short distance into the market at a weaver's cart . You can't make out the conversation between her and the girl who is presumably running it, but it seems normal and businesslike at first glance.
One noticeable difference is that the nasty looks have mostly stopped coming your way. Your attempt at standing up to the Temerian ambassadors, short-lived though it was, may have struck a chord with the locals. It's too early to tell what the effect may be, but you've taken a step toward gaining their trust. Erthriel:
"Since you're a sharp one, I can part with them for 20 gold coins each," the old woman says. "That's with the discount for getting on my good side!" She cackles again, appearing to enjoy your company much more than you would expect. "Of course, these are far from my only wares, so if something else catches your fancy..." Zanessa: Torek smiles at the mention of food and checking out weapons. "Agreed. We should enjoy the day while it lasts." Bertram bows to you once again before melting into the crowd, leaving the three of you - a motley family, to be sure - on your own.
The food vendors are much more affordable than the rest of the caravan, and you can pick up a snack for five copper apiece. A gnome with a shock of frazzled pink hair prepares your fried bread right in front of you, his grinning, larger-than-life likeness painted on the gigantic wooden sign on top of his cart. "Here you go, tall ones! Three of Tupanuck's finest Fried-Food-On-Sticks!" He dances a little jig after being paid and waves goodbye as you leave. "Spread the word! Tupanuck Liftwick is gonna be HUGE someday!"
Alright! I’m probably over-explaining from the nerves/excitement, so I’ll try to tone it down. You guys are more than welcome to offer suggestions for gameplay as we go - I can always use the feedback.
Grant only needs to take a moment to consider Olivia’s question. “Sure! You’re not threatened or in a rush, so taking 10 will be fine.” ===== Augrer:
Javier narrows his eyes and seems to size you up for a moment.
After reaching his conclusion, he replies, “Yes, I believe the ’high council’ had a brief lapse in oversight.” With a curt wave, he motions for the other men to follow. “If you can be of further assistance, do not hesitate to reach out. May Temerious guide your hand.” The trio depart immediately, leaving you to your own devices.
Zanessa:
Torek grunts. “They’re snakes. They’ll slither around until they find a clue, and then sink their fangs into whoever they please to find it.” “Allow me to elaborate,” Bertram says. His wide-eyed enthusiasm screams ‘conspiracy theorist’. “The Regency will track down the journal secretly and attempt to steal it from the owner before they can deliver it to us. They’ll also have assigned someone to watch the auction as a contingency. If you’re going to help, let us handle the Temerians while you look for Ollie and grab the journal.” “The auction isn’t until the first evening bell. We have a while to wait.” Torek is far from the sentimental type, but as he looks at you and Kaden, he seems more than proud. “Looking at you, young-bloods, I have a bit more hope for our future.”
===== Grant has to take a bit longer with Whitney’s question. “I know it would run similarly to playing a pregen in Society, but I’m not sure. We could try to figure it out before our next session.”
Augrer:
Judging from Javier's demeanor and the lack of any visible militaristic tendencies, the trio does in fact appear to be a group of ambassadors on a peaceful mission. "It is regrettable that you feel that way about the actions of a few when they are overshadowed by the opinions of the many. Surely you would not wish to have such judgment passed on yourself," Javier replies with a quizzical look. "Are you not here on a mission of your own?" Aeshelia:
Your departure does not go unnoticed by the Temerians, and one of the ambassadors shakes his head with what you believe to be an expression of pity. The crowd is slowly losing interest in the exchange, though no one seems too keen on letting the interlopers out of their sight.
Zanessa: "The messenger is a trustworthy girl named Ollie. We agreed upon a signal beforehand, one we hope the Regency won't be able to decipher." Bertram's confidence starkly contrasts with Torek's lack thereof. "This is not a simple matter, and our friends are few and far between. If we wish to reclaim our culture from these barbarians, we must do so carefully."
Torek interjects, "I'm still convinced they're going to try something soon. The market is the perfect cover. We can't go in expecting everything to work perfectly."
DC15 Knowledge (Local):
You're familiar with the Regency's ongoing "reeducation campaign", which mostly consists of confiscating or destroying historical records and replacing them with Temerian propaganda. Adelveldt has been the target of Temerian inquisitions before, many of which have been predicated on debunking Raubert Vanselir's reputation and branding him as a fraud, though they have met fierce resistance here in the South Reach. Any records from the years prior to the War of Blazes would be highly sought-after by both the Regency and its opponents. "We know the journal is being held by someone who hates the Regency as much as we do, but they've remained anonymous and only delivered messages through middlemen so far," Bertram says. "They were planning on delivering the book to us during the auction by hiding it inside a dwarven rug." "The catch," Torek adds, "is that we won't know which one until the messenger points it out for us. It's all very subtle since we don't want the Regency finding out." The orc looks displeased with the plan for obvious reasons.
Kaden looks intent on staying, having inherited his father's quiet intensity and penchant for follow-through. Torek seems loath to impart any more information, but Bertram quickly jumps in. "It's a journal. It looks normal on the outside, but it's enchanted and very difficult to decipher. I can't tell you much more - just know that it's extremely important to our history."
Torek adds, "Bertram and I have some mutual acquaintances who've been searching for this journal for a long time. Unfortunately, so have the Regency. They're probably skulking around as we speak, hoping to seize it for themselves." Like most Adelveldtians, there's no love lost between Torek and the Regency, but the force of the snarl in his voice is almost enough to make you believe his grudge is personal.
Zanessa and Kaden:
Bertram shakes his head and says, "This isn't just a book you can walk up and buy. Some people might say it doesn't exist, but I know it does, and it's here."
"Enough," Torek growls. "Your mouth is outrunning you, boy. I've got your commission, and you'll have your precious book by the end of the day." The orc turns back to you with an apology written all over his face. "Zanessa, Kaden... go enjoy the market. If you still want to help your old Torek, you can keep an eye out for unusual items I could use in the upcoming auction." Erthriel:
The old woman cackles so hard that it shakes her whole body. "That's the spirit, missy!" She pulls out two vials with similar-looking seals. "If you're having trouble finding what you're looking for, you can use this one to make it more obvious. As for this one... well, sometimes, you can have too much of a good thing, eh? Care for a sample?" She unstops them and offers you a smidgen from each to taste.
She adds in a hushed tone, "Those Regency whelps may be out to ban magic, but they can't stop me from turning a profit from someone else's work!" Augrer and Aeshelia: "Thanks, mister!" The urchin starts to run off, but quickly zig-zags and sprints in the opposite direction. The source of his aversion reveals itself to be a trio of men clad in the garb of Temerian ambassadors. Muffled boos and hisses erupt from the crowd as they pass, but the newcomers bear it with the air of trained professionals.
The leader, a middle-aged man sporting a handsome salt-and-pepper beard, approaches Augrer and bows. "I see we are not the only believers in this place. I am Javier, and my associates and I have come from Castle Ein to discuss the peaceful integration of Adelveldt into the Regency."
"I'm sure we all do," Grant replies, eyeing his pristine Lucky Star of dice. He scoots his chair back from the gaming table and takes a moment to fetch a lacquered box from one of the bookshelves. Once he's sitting again, he opens it to reveal six more sets of dice in solid colors, each one slightly translucent. "Take your pick - I probably have more dice than brain cells at this point." ===== "Catch yer fancy, miss?" The elderly human woman running the nearest market stall fixes her one good eye on Erthriel, her gnarled fingers waving over the assortment of trinkets and baubles on her cart. "Maybe something for a sweetheart, or something to snag a sweetheart?" She chortles and nudges the elf with her elbow, as if in on a private joke. There's no way of knowing how expensive the handmade items would be, but a small portion of the cart has been allocated to flasks of vials of unknown liquids, each one with an intricately-decorated stopper hinting at their contents.
Torek shares a furtive glance with the hooded figure at your mention of the bookseller, but neither one says anything about it. In response to your second question, he waves the other person forward, prompting them to bow slightly. "Bertram here is an old friend of mine. He's not on the best terms with the Regency at the moment, so he'd appreciate your discretion." Bertram utters, "The book, Torek!" The orc silences Bertram with a glare. "We can figure it out later. These are my kin, and I won't have you involving them." He turns back to you, giving Kaden a pat on the shoulder. "You should go enjoy yourselves. This may take a while."
Some notes on Grant's GM style that reflect my approach to this PbP:
We're only one post into Mirgaard, and I'm already liking what I'm seeing from you guys. Keep up the good work!
Zanessa and Kaden:
The pair of half-blooded siblings draw little attention to themselves; the residents of Adelveldt have known you long enough to trust you, and the traders in the caravan are accustomed to showing no bias or favor in their dealings. The only ones who pause and stare at your passing are visitors from neighboring settlements, though Zanessa draws far fewer glances than Kaden.
As you emerge from the mass of tents for a breather, you find Torek having a hushed conversation with a cloaked, hooded individual, their words obscured by the buzz of the crowd. The other figure starts to withdraw when you arrive, but Torek makes a calming gesture. "There you are, young-bloods. How are the spoils looking today?" His rugged, scarred face gives way to a toothy grin, made all the more potent by his tusks. "I'm getting a jump on my own sales - this fellow here was commissioning a new shield." Erthriel:
The morning is surprisingly productive and yields a solid assortment of Leechwort, which you take to Teagan's apothecary. She graciously accepts your delivery and pays you for your trouble, earning you 9 gold pieces! The market is in full swing by the time you arrive, and as you enter the frenzied dance of prospective buyers looking to enrich their lives (for a fee, of course), you find yourself surrounded by all manner of people who don't seem to care about your elven heritage as long as you're looking to buy.
Suddenly, a child covered in dirt smacks into your leg, his poorly-disguised attempt at grabbing your new bag of coins foiled by his underdeveloped hand-eye coordination. "O-oh no! Sorry!" More out of guilt at getting caught than genuine remorse, the child flees through the crowd, heading toward the center of the square... Augrer:
Temerious may smile upon you today, but no one else in town seems to share the sentiment. Easily recognized as you are by your trademark weapon and attire, the people of Adelveldt give you a wide berth, settling for glaring daggers at you and whispering among themselves about your unwanted presence. Even the statue of Raubert Vanselir seems to bear down on you oppressively. No one has outright harassed you for your faith, but the cause of the town's discomfort with you is fairly obvious.
The wall between you and the rest of the world is suddenly breached when an urchin who might have looked endearing in any other light runs straight into you and is knocked flat on his back. "Oof... uh, you gotta help me, mister!" The child picks himself up and stares at you with what must be his attempt at puppy dog eyes. "There's a scary lady who tried to hurt me!"
Aeshelia: New to travel though you may be, Adelveldt feels like the sort of place you'd be happy spending time in. Ever since you arrived in town, the townsfolk have been gracious and kind to you, eager to hear tales of your travels - you've even been fortunate enough to find a small audience interested in your goddess. The open market is as good a place as any to spread the good word, and you find yourself appraising the various items of clothing being sold to see how they measure up to your own stitching.
Your attention is pulled away by the figure of a small boy trying to pick an elven woman's pocket, failing miserably, and running straight into the clutches of a paladin. You fixate on the man's weapon of choice and quickly realize that he is a follower of Temerious, making him an immediate cause for concern.
As grant waits for the hubbub to die down, he arranges his dice in his trademark Lucky Star formation: each one showing the highest number, the polyhedrals arranged in hexagons by size, and five sets in different colors mimicking the points of star centered on a sixth set in black and silver marble. "Alright, everybody. It's time. Welcome... to the Vanselir Tales." ----- Adelveldt may not be the biggest or richest settlement in the South Reach, but it more than makes up for it with heart and a community unlike any other. You've all been acquainted with Adelveldt in some degree by now - travelers passing through, immigrants who made it their home, or lifelong citizens who can't imagine living anywhere else - and the lively town, with all its quaint attractions and energetic people, slowly drew you into the pulse of everyday life within its borders. Today would be like any other day, but the Meritor Mercantile Caravan arrived earlier this morning, setting up shop in the middle of the square and displaying glorious goods from all corners of Mirgaard. Gilded tents of azure and crimson house tiny storefronts that spill out onto the paving stones, while banners and flags of all nations snap in the refreshing ocean breeze. The nearby buildings shelter the square from the morning heat in their cool shadows, and towering above it all is the bronze statue to the town's founder, the legendary Raubert Vanselir. Today is a day of celebration. Go forth! Enjoy yourselves! The world has never been brighter!
Thanks! Natural follow-up question would be: of the five you mentioned, which aspect(s) are they more associated with? Let’s go down the list. Cùfuil, also known as the Savage, is depicted as a ravenous beast. Insatiable, violent, and nigh-incapable of reason, he is more of a force of nature than an actual deity. He serves as the subject of many cautionary tales about dealing with the Fey. Gheimhridh, also known as the Silent, is an avatar for the impassive specter of death that looms over all living things. They are of indeterminate gender and keep their agenda, if they even have one, a tightly-kept secret. Lachlanan, also known as the Clever, is a diminutive trickster who is attributed to be the progenitor of the gnomes. His wits and adaptability are the hallmarks of his tales, many of which are concerned with his escaping the jaws of Cùfuil or duping his fellow courtiers. Naola Dragan, also known as the Revered, is the noble, proud queen of the Fey. Her shrewdness and wisdom served the realm of Fionnach well in its time, and many become her supplicants out of a desire to emulate her strengths. Spéir Banríon, also known as the Brave, is a bit more ambiguous than his fellow courtiers. Many stories paint him as a gallant knight without peer, but others depict him as little more than a mindless machine of war, and no one can seem to reconcile the two sides.
Posting rate may be a bit slow over the weekend as I travel, but I’ll have reliable internet and will do my best to keep things moving along.
Another out-of-curiosity question: are the individual members of the Green Court more slanted towards a separate aspect of the group as a whole, or are they all mostly the same (or somewhere in between)? And are they mostly worshipped individually, in small sub-groups, or as a whole? The former, their embodiment of various aspects of a cohesive whole, is correct. They tend to be worshiped as a group, but each of the faithful usually venerates one slightly above the others - whichever one they most identify with is suitably deserving of more respect, though they still honor the rest of the Court (even if it's only lip service).
Was hoping for Lighting Okay I will look over the Subdomains after that I think I will be good to go Honestly, I don't know why I didn't include that for a goddess who deals with storms. Let's add Lightning to the list. Out of curiosity, what are Temerious's subdomains? Glad you asked! Artifice: Industry, Toil
There may be more revealed about the deities and their powers over the course of the story, so stay tuned...
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just pulling from the food fund, which won’t be running out anytime soon.” Grant offers a vague hand-wave as he answers, and then he turns back to his computer. “Alright, everyone. Now’s the time to finalize your characters, so if you have any lingering questions, ask away. If not...” He grins like a child on the first day of kindergarten, before they’ve been worn down by the rest of their lives yet to come. “...let’s jump in.”
Grant takes the time to open his laptop and get his dice ready while the players talk among themselves, but always manages to appear bright and attentive when someone’s telling their story. “You’re all doing great by sharing this stuff,” he adds encouragingly. “What about you, Jay? Care to rehash for our new arrivals?”
Great question! Air: Cloud, Wind
Hope that helps.
“And then, there were five,” Grant intones as he takes his seat at the head of the table. All the running around and carrying food must have worn him out a bit, as he stops to catch his breath for a moment. “Everyone, thanks for being here on time and ready to play. You have no idea how much this means to me - this is going to be a very special campaign, and I can’t wait to see what you do with it.” He pauses to take a sip of hot tea that he made while in the kitchen. “You all know me, but since we’ve got some time to just hang out, I’d like you to introduce yourselves to the other players and tell them a bit about you and your character. Trust is vital to having a successful party, right?” With a reassuring smile on his face, he waits for one of you to speak up.
Grant floats between kitchen and living room as he arranges the snacks for the evening on a small veranda by the dining room. “Help yourselves - there’s plenty to go around.” He waves his hand magnanimously over the cheese tray, assorted fruits, bowls of chips, pigs-in-a-blanket, wraps, and drinks of most varieties known to man. “We won’t get started until the other two show, but I’m never against breaking out the food a bit early. Also, there may or may not be dessert involved - consider yourselves warned.”
“Just a sec!” Grant’s voice rings out from the kitchen, and it takes him a few moments to step into the living room, giving you ample time to check it out. In stark contrast with the bare hardwood floors, rough counters, and simple wooden furniture visible in the kitchen and dining room, the living room is covered with framed paintings and posters from Grant’s favorite movies, hand-drawn illustrations of characters and settings from past campaigns, colorful throws depicting scenes from various mythologies, and a massive felt-topped gaming table sprawled in the middle of the right side of the room. Twin lacquered bookcases tower over the room, packed end to end with novels, rulebooks, and game sets acquired over the past two decades. An open cabinet takes up the left side of the living room, closest to the door, with a flatscreen TV and one of each of the current generation of game consoles. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite person in every reality,” he says to Whitney. Despite the residual softness from too much takeout, he seems to be in good shape, and his face looks no more sleep-deprived than usual. He also sports a “Kiss the Cook” apron that looks way too old and worn to be his. He walks over to open the door for the next arrival. “Ah, Jay! Welcome to your new home away from home. I’m finishing up the snacks, so you guys make yourselves comfortable, okay?” With that, he waltzes back into the kitchen, leaving you to find a seat.
Gameplay thread is officially open! Don’t feel obligated to post right away - just enjoy the rest of your weekends!
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