GM Sphen's page

When Estella mentions checking the dam, an older woman canes her way over to you. "Adventurers, huh? Well, we'd be grateful if you'd go check on things. Certain sure that none of us ever thought the damn dam would ever fail. And now we've lost the village. Probably head up to Fort Rennick for shelter while we figure out what to do."

The people around you look stunned. Almost two solid days of driving rain and now the sun shines on the valley (though not for much longer as it is only a few hours from setting). Their homes wiped out. Whatever that thing was in the water that half of them aren't sure they believe the other half saw.

But those close enough nod along with the words of the old woman, taking up the idea of heading to Fort Rennick for safety. Give themselves a place to be while they work on rebuilding.

The combination of when you were warned and the magics employed grants you all the chance to get clear of the rising waters. The dash through the storm is cold, wet, and blinding. The water level rises quickly, from a few inches to a few feet. Adreniline pumps through you as you go, mixed with relief as you begin to climb out of the water. Some of you stop to haul struggling locals alongside you, the last few stragglers reaching out eager hands for assistance.

From the relative safety of the valley slopes, you strain to see the town as the villagers huddle around you. The ones you helped up the muddy slope thanking you for your aide. Soaked through, cold, forlorn, the sound of rushing water meeting wood crashes through the darkness.

Though you cannot see it, you can picture in your minds the buildings below being torn off their foundations, pushed further downstream. What you don't have to imagine is a massive blacks shape, more than 4 times the size of the ogres you recently fought, with writhing black tentacles. It guides itself along the current, taking no notice of you or the locals nearby. It fades into the distance with the flood.

Shorlty after that, the rain finally begins to lessen. Within minutes, the clouds part and the sun shines down. You are finally able to see the valley below. Stone foundations scoured of their walls can just be seen over the retreating water.

Murmurs of "what happened?", "did the dam fail?", and "what do we do now?" repeat from the mouths of the residents of Turtleback Ferry. Questions of "what was the thing?" are ignored as a problem for not right now. Headcounts are counted, supplies are accounted for. Everyone seems stunned.

@Sherman & Ceven: The locals are headed east, up the valley slopes. The water is flowing south. To your west is the river itself, currently overflowing its banks. East is the mountains, high ground. South is more valley. North is more valley and eventually the dam.

Most of the party is headed east, so are the vague shadows of the townsfolk.

@Ceven: The woman is panicked. She points to the east, teeth chattering.

Estella dashes into the rain, the drops seeping into clothes that hadn't had time to dry yet. The sheets of water make seeing difficult, and she zips past shadows of townspeople making for high ground.

Ceven graps the hostess, taking her to a rooftop to try and survey their surroundings. Unable to see more than shapes beyond 10 feet, a new strategy will be in order.

Tarphrex and Elisani head into the streets after Estella. Elisani is practically dragging the kobold along behind her, his enchanced speed sapped by the water reaching his knees. Still, they progress faster than the townsfolk, closing on their head start.

Appreciate the well wishes everyone.

@Estella: Probably the cold and the amount of time I had to spend out in shoveling snow.

I feel guilty even posting anything about it, especially since some of us have much more serious medical issues that we should all be supportive of.

But I'm back and posting. Still need about half the team to post their actions.

Sorry folks, taken ill. I'll post when I'm feeling better.

Don't know about where you all live, but it is cold AF here. The snow was enough that I got called into work for emergency snow removal, and bad enough that I told them I wasn't coming.

Did have to shovel a lot today, though. My back is going to be sore tomorrow.

Also as a side note, I'm taking my oldest to a convention this weekend, so I won't be posting on Friday.

The hostess begins to lead Tarphrex to the back, but at Sherman's shout, she turns, a stunned expression on her face. "Oh, I dinnae think it were that urgent. But iffin you think it is." She moves over to stand next to Sherman, ready to follow.

I need to know how people are going to be getting to safety. Obviously, Ceven can fly, and could likely carry one or two of you.
Keep in mind that visibility is limited to 50 feet, foot is unsure and getting worse, you have limited time. I'm not going to enter initiative, but I would like declared actions round by round from each of you.

There isn't anything I can do to help, but I'll be here whenever you get back.

Estella Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Hostess Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

@Estella: "Oh my. I suppose ya may be right. I'll just grab a few things. Don't go yet, I'll just need a snap." She moves to head towards the back of the building.

@Estella: Opening the door drowns out any response you might have gotten from the hostess as the pouring rain assaults your senses. The previously dulled thudding of innumberable rain drops is all you can hear, the biting cold water finding every crack in your clothing is all you can feel, and the dull grey light is all you can see. You adjust to it all as you close the door, enough to make out some of your surroundings.

Water laps at the bottom of your boots as it flows down slope toward the river. This must be a common occurance during heavy rain, you realize that is likely why the building you just left has a stone foundation but wooden walls. Looking around...
Perception Check: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
...you notice some people of the town are headed south (downriver), carrying children and packs. Their forms are little more than shadows around you. They hurry past with cloaks on and heads down, trying to get through the deluge as quickly as possible.

Then, with another crack of thunder, you hear a rending sound like the gods themselves groaning with anguish. The people in the streets pause, looking north. You cannot see their faces...
Sense Mothive: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31
...but their stances shout of shock turned to fear as their quickened steps turn to runs. Some head south, others turn east towards the slopes.

The woman looks out the window, "Oh, none of ya have ever lived in a valley, have ya? The water always flows towards the river."

You're not sure if she's being obstinate or is generally unconcerned.

@Tarphrex: You do see water in the streets. It's flowing in a thin sheet towards the river. You also cannot see more than two feet or so past the window.

@Sherman: She seems dismissive of the even the thought that the damn could break. "Break? The damn's older than everyone one of us combined. Go on and don't worry your mind 'bout it." She pauses, then thinks better of it. "But I suppose iffin it'll put your mind at ease, you'd want to head for the valley slopes. Get to high ground."

@Ceven: She laughs (good naturedly) at your request, talking to Sherman (as the visible oldest) first. "Youngins now adays, never listenin to what's said." She then looks to Ceven to explain again. "No rooms here, young man. Copper piece and you can rent a space by the fire. Iffin you're tired, you'll 'ave to convince your friends to keep it down."

I know it's not what you asked for, but I do have the full gallery of the PFS pre-gens. Level 4 is the closest (again, I know it's not what you asked for), but it would save you a bunch of work and ALL classes are included.

Otherwise, if you still need some in like March, I can help out.

Coming week I'm gonna get back on the GM seat, running an online Quest for the Frozen Flame campaign. It's been years since I last GMd, wish me luck!

Good luck, great fortune, and break a leg.

A few hours later, another loud crash of thunder shakes the boards of the building. Less surprised by it now, your hostess barely pauses before she continues her small talk. You learn that she married a local and they opened this place, that he died some years back (natural causes), and the new riverboat gambling den has taken a fair amount of their business lately. Typical small town concerns.

A third wall shaking peel of thunder assaults your ears. Even less concerned now, the woman, who still hasn't said her name, prattles on uninterrupted. The roar that builds on the edge of your hearing, however, distracts you. You're not even sure you hear it at first, but it continues to grow louder and louder until all of you are convinced you hear it.

@Tarphrex: The woman maskes her shock at the thunderous noise and waves away your concern. "Oh, dinnae even worry yer head 'bout thaat. There's a damn upriver thaat'll protect the town."

@Sherman: Washed away in a heartbeat. The foundation of the building is stone, and likely would withstand the fury of the storm. But the building itself, well-built as it is, would not. Powerful as the storm is, it still has a while before "storm of the century" levels, though.

@Estella: "Oh, aye. I was jus tellin your wee friend 'bout it. Skull's Crossing, we call it. Upriver some ways. Ya probably passed it on the way down, though ya likely missed it in the storm." She continues to busy herself. "Not much here less you like fish. We did have a river boat, for the gamblin types. Don't know how they much in the way of coin round these parts, but they weighed anchor a few days back. No one really knows why they left in such a hurry." She stops to consider the rain. "Though likely good for them that they did. What with the storm and all."

@Estella 2: "Storms, ya mean? Likely as common here as anywhere else, I suppose. Though this one is as bad as ever I've seen."

Whether you answer her questions or not, the woman continues to pepper you with them. She seems glad to have someone new to talk to more than actual prying.

A few times throughout the evening, you hear thunder rumble in the distance as the rain continues to pour. Normally, a place like this would see townsfolk coming in to share some company, but no one wants to brave the elements today. As you begin to consider setting up bedrolls for the night, you hear it. The loudest peel of thunder that you've ever heard. Not just the loudest tonight, but the loudest ever. It rumbles down the valley, shaking the boards of the building, dust falls from the stone fireplace as the ground beneath you shakes slightly. The proprietor stops her prattling and looks towards the door, worried.

What do you do now?

@Tarphex: Ah yes, teleport. You could have teleported, or dimension doored, across. You'd think I'd be better about not assuming things after so many years, but apparently another reminder was needed.

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The woman blinks, then bustles into motion, chatting away all the while. She brings over racks upon which to hang cloaks, adds a bit more wood to the fire, brings over benches, etc.

"Aye, a proper good afternoon to ya'!" Her accent is quick and not local. Maybe Kellid? "Pardon my shock, but we dinnae often see visitors out this way, specially not in weather the likes of this. I'll be puttin on some stew for ya right soon. Warm ya up good and proper it will. As far as beds go, we dinnae have any. But for a copper each, you can get a space there by the fire to warm your bones." She talks so much that you're able to speak without worrying about her overhearing. If you want to get her attention, you need to speak over her.

She disappears into a back room, and returns about 10 minutes later lugging a large soup kettle which she puts over the fire. Then gone again, returning with bowls, bread, and spoons that she piles on a nearby table.

"Now, what brings ya adventurers out to the back end of nothin'?"

@Tarphrex: The river is wide enough that it would be a difficult swim for the untrained on a normal day. Glutted with rain water, it would be dangerous to all but the best swimmers.

______________

Ceven takes to the air to carry you across. Even taking multiple trips, it will still be quicker than waiting on the barge ferry to cross and recross carrying you.
While in the air, Ceven notices a feature that was obscured by the obscuring rain. The village sits in a valley of hard stone, a short distance east are the foothills of the mountains. Likely to be close to the river for fishing and trade. In other parts of the world, they'd need to worry about mud slides, but here they just can't have baements due to flooding.

The ferry-man, a man you could only describe as a bumpkin, watches in silent amazement from the doorway to his shack as Ceven carries you over one or two at a time, depositing you in the muck before returning with the next.

As Ceven arrives with the last of the group, Estella askes as sweetly as she can, being so grumpy about the weather, for a place to stay. He silently points towards the largest shadow looming nearby, and you set out towards it. The shadow soon coalesces into a wooden building set on a stone foundation, to large for a house, to small for an inn.
Those of you who have spent time in smaller towns recognize the signless building as common house; a mix of bar, community center, meeting hall, and hostel. You'll likely be sleeping on the floor, but it should be dry and warm.

Entering in, you find a large room with a wooden floor. A few scattered tables with benches and a small bar are the only furnishings. A warm fire and a surprised woman are on opposite ends of the room, the woman sitting idly behind the bar with an embrodery hoop in her hands. She is older, dark hair turning to grey and held back by a kerchief, with simple blouse and skirt, an apron hanging on a hook nearby.

By morning, the storm has arrived. It started with a drizzle, the drops pinking off the armor of whoever was on watch. By sunrise, it is a deluge. The sort of rain that would have had you reconsider leaving Fort Rennick to begin with. But now, most off the way there, you continue on towards Turtleback Ferry, eager to get indoors.

You set out quickly, knowing any sort of fire to cook breakfast would be a wasted effort. Eating while you walk, your boots churn the dirt path to mud. By noon, the mud sucks at your boots with every step. The hike becomes an exhausting parody of such, a slog as the rain continues to pour unrelentingly down upon you.

A few hours later, spattered and fatigued (not mechanically), you reach the ferry from which your destination takes its name. Or so you presume. You arrive on the western bank of the river, the town sits upon the east.
The dock on this side is made of solid wood, and is barely above the water level after so muh rain. You can vaguely see the lantern hanging on the far side of the river, a signal that the ferryman is available.

Indistinct shadows lumped beyond the lantern indicate the buildings of the town. There should be some sort of common house or inn in which to get dry, once you can cross the river.

Leaving the fort is a strange affair. You stay a night, resting in lieu of the hard fought victory. The Black Arrows avoid you, leaving each to their own business. The morning dawns sunlit and cheery, birds singing. The mood in the fort is somber and grim.

You know where you need to go next, and how to get their. Travel east to the river, then follow it south to Turtleback Ferry. Simple.
You pack your bags and prepare to leave. You see the others in the courtyeard as you go. Shalelu, Vale, and Jakardros stand near the wall, looking on with impassive expressions. They are near where the corpses of Black Arrows had been strung up and left to the crows. Those have been cut down, but a new one has joined them. Kaven hangs, twisting slightly in the wind, a rope around his neck. His left pant leg has been torn off at the knee, the keen eyed among you can see a tattoo of a seven pointed star on his calf.

When you enter the space, Vale turns to leave, heading out the doors of the fort ahead of you. Shalelu only nods to you before turning her gaze back to Kaven.
Jakardros approaches, stoic, unapologetic. "Thank you for your help. Both with the ogres and with the traitor. I know I didn't get to tell you the plan, but Kaven let his guard down when we stood up for him." He looks over you all, and continues in the same tone even if some of you are visibly upset. "To be blunt, your accusations were unfounded at the time. You should be more precise. Take the time to aim before you shoot." He rejoins Shalelu, ignoring any words called after him.

Resolving your issues with him, you continue.
As you travel down the path, you see Vale, shirtless, off to the side, digging a large hole. No doubt preparing a resting place for the dead.

You spend a day traveling. The river provides fresh water, and the air cools. By evening, clouds have rolled in, covering the sky from horizon to horizon. The tempurature drops, rain is coming. Even the city folk can feel the pressure change in the air.

@Sherman: Yes. Feel free to read all spoilers for loot and keep/disperse what you'd like.

@All: Turtleback Ferry is to small to buy or sell magical loot. They would have basic adventuring gear available, things that could also be used in everyday life (rope for example, a dagger but not a sword).

Also, yes to everything being looted.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday break. This is a friendly reminder to finish leveling up and tell me anything you wanted to do before setting out to Turtle Back Ferry.
Tomorrow I'll post the continuation of the story.

@Sherman: For humans, the alternate favored class bonus for Oracles is +1 spell known. It does need to be of one level below the highest available spell you can casat, but it really pads out the spell list.

I've taken a look at next level for Tarphrex. He doesn't get a great deal, but he does get a spell at a new level - Fourth. And while Dragon's Breath is thematic and very tempting, I get it automatically in a level. I really like Greater Invisibility and Charm Monster could be fun, but believe Dimension Door will be a better choice for the party.

(I love the idea of Telekinetic Maneuver combined with a pit, but our kineticist can do it better at less cost, so I shan't go that route.)

Anyone have a specific vote for a particular fourth-level sorcerer spell? I only get one and I want it to be something with some utility, but I do expect to use a fourth-level slot for casting Haste extended with my metamagic feat.

Telekinetic Charge is a personal favorite.

@Tarphrex: Shalelu shrugs at the question of books.

@Sherman (et all): You don't detect any magic. What you do find, left right out in the open, is a scroll tube labeled for delivery. The name of the recipent is Mokmurian.

Unrolling the scroll, you can easily read the contents. The header says "Those who have agreed to grant their greed to the master's need". Following this a list of names. At the bottom, "Favorite customers of Paradise, Turtleback Ferry".

You have your next lead. A name and a town. And I think it is time for a level up.

I'll be checking in over the holidays, and I hope you all have a great end of year. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and bless you all.

@Tarphrex: Prestidigitation does clean the mess, but it would be a time consuming process to do it all. And some of the books have also had their pages torn out. You'd need to clean them, then sit down and sort them out before repairing them, even with a mending spell.
Alternatively, you can alleviate the smell, at least.

@Tarphrex 2: There is a similarity between the opulence here and what you saw atop the clock tower.

@Estella: Shalelu nods to your statement, then turns to leave. Clearly, you're being given as much time as you need on this one.

Almost done with cookies! I have one more variety to bake tomorrow, then I just have to pack them up and mail them. Thankfully my sister and brother-in-law came over tonight to help decorate sugar cookies, otherwise Mom and I would have been doing that all evening. It's a lot of work, but it's delicious work. And it brings back good memories of my grandma. Christmas cookies were always her thing.

When I was a kid, my family would listen to this album every year. Now, I put it on when we decorate for Christmas. Your story is exactly what they're talking about.

Christmas Memories

When Shalelu finds you, she gestures for you to follow her. She leads you down, into a lower level that you've not started searching yet. The hall has barred cells lining the length and the near end has a single, reinforced wooden door. Leading you to the door, she explains succinctly.
"We found this while searching for bodies. Figured you'd want to look before we messed it up."

This simple room might have once been a jailer's den, or perhaps even a torture chamber, but someone has gone through great pains to repurpose it. The air now smells of sweet exotic incense, and veils of multicolored silk drape from floor to ceiling throughout. Between the rustlings of the veils, glimpses of giant cushions are revealed. The floor is strewn with luxuriant red throw rugs and sheets.

Tell us, how does your company feel about costumes? You can layer a lot of clothes under a costume. Seasonal costume also show you as being in the spirit of things.

And if they question it to much, you can bring up the story about JRR Tolkien and C.S. Lewis going to a party in matching polar bear costumes. It isn't related, but it is funny.

I hope you all had a great weekend. My youngest daughter convinced me to take her out sledding yesterday. And it was COLD. Even bundled as we were, we lasted last than an hour.

Looking into B29, the "Chapel"...
The walls within this enormous chamber are mounted with dozens of trophy antlers, some taken from stags that must have stood as tall as dire bears. Most of the antlers are draped with bits of rotten flesh, strips of skin, or coils of viscera. To the west, a marble altar has been heaped with the mangled remains of at least a half-dozen dead men and women. A crude image of what might be a three-eyed jackal has been painted in blood on the wall above the altar's alcove.

Searching the highest tower (B35), you find a badly mangled bell. It looks like someone (or multiple someones) beat on it with a hammer continuously.

____________

Searchng the first floor....
You find the first floor deserted. You occasionally see one of your 4 companions moving bodies outside, most of the corpses mangled in some way.
One of the rooms has crude paintings on the walls depicting common animals. Another has a "poem" of sorts.
Me Big-a-Big, You- Small-a- Small, I Eat Your Head!" and "You Never Think Me Write All Over with YouBloody Neck, I'm Holding".

A library with empty shelves smells horrible. A corner of the room shows the fate of the books; a brown smeared pile that assaults your noses, similiar to the map room upstairs.

All in all, the fort has been wrecked. Almost no furniture remains unbroken, no wall hangins still hang, and no one was left alive. Even some of the ogres were killed by their own, a few over-sized corpses left to rot in whatever room they were tossed into.

It takes you almost two hours to seach the fort, and you gather to share your lack of findings when Shalelu approaches you.

(More on Shalelu tomorrow, give everyone a chance to say or do whatever they wish until then.)

So, next Friday (the 19th) I go on Christmas break. My posting tends to get sparse when I'm not working, so just a heads up for everyone that it is that time of year again.

Also, I got a PS5 as a birthday/Christmas gift and am eager to get into/through Final Fantasy XVI, Oblivion Remastered, and Expedition 33.

I'm going to try and find a good place for the game to pause for a couple of weeks by the 19th and may push things a bit (one way or another) to pause there.

Hope you all have a wonderful end of year.

Okay, I'm confused. Is a nymph manifesting from the locket or something?

(No. There is a lock of hair in the locket. That hair belongs to a nymph.)

This room seems pretty tapped out for clues. What next? Search the rest of the fort?

Elisani: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
Tarphrex: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

I'm glad he's doing well. I sincerely hope that he can stay the course.

@Sherman: It does, in fact, open.

@Tarphrex: I hope they get through what they're going through and stay healthy afterwards.

@Tarphrex: You are unable to determine the magic on these boots. But you can tell that they emit faint abjuration and transmutation auras. The locket is not magical, and nothing in the box detects as magic.

@Elisani and Estella: Elisani inspects the box carefully but is just (8 minutes) to late to beat Estella as she pops open the lid to reveal a cache of papers. Sifting through them, they appear to be letters.

With the wood weakened at critical points, the spear pops the false bottom open to reveal the box. It's a flat box of unadorned metal closed with a simple latch. Almost a foot square, but only 4 or so inches deep, it likely contains parchment of some sort. And the weight suggests that as well.

Underneath the box, a pair of dark green leather boots are stowed. A quick inspection of them reveals a) they are magic and b) a silver locket was slipped into one of them.

I had curry for the first time this year. I'm interested in trying an authentic curry dish, but every time we try to go out to an Indian resturant, we either need to cancel our plans or the place has closed down.

Hope you all had a good weekend. It's snowing here, like a lot.

@Elisani: No trap there, just a metal box in a hidden compartment. The compartment itself is broken, though. You'll have to pry the wood out of the way to get to the box.

Estella Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Sherman Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

__________________

@Sherman: You detect no additional magical auras; the magical gear from the ogres has already been stripped from their corpses and there are no illusion spells popping up in your sweep.

@Tarphrex: Correct on the voice coming from the hallway.

@Estella: You look for the source of the voice, coming up empty. But you do notice that one of the smashed pieces of furniture in the room has something interesting. It's a wine cabinet, and a hole punched in it shows that it has a false bottom. You can see something flat and metal inside, but can't make out what it is.

Alright, that was some good RP. But let's get some detailed "I'm going to do this" statements.

We'll say all minute per level spells have expired.

Also, for those not in the US, it is Thanksgiving week here. So, IF I post on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, it'll be in the evening. Otherwise, I'll be hanging out with my family. I promised my kids I would show them what real ramen tastes like, not just the cheap stuff they get at day camps sometimes. (Don't let me fool you, I'm still using pre-packaged noodles.)

Regarding our mystery spellcaster, I figured it might be a good idea to bring up a clue we pulled up over a year ago:

On the naga's lamia's body we found a letter, written by a "Lucrecia", gloating to her sister about how much more efficient the casino boat was and how Turtleback Ferry was a prime harvesting spot.

The fleeing ogres mentioned a Lucrecia, and the spellcaster's voice also spent her one line gloating and insulting her sister. With the silhedron involved, there's a lot of signs pointing to the spellcaster being the same Lucrecia from the letter. So even if we don't catch her now, we do have a lead to follow up on.

As Badger would say, "Penny for the smart lady". I wouldn't say that this place is lost to you, but you should at least let things cool down. And maybe searching around a bit for additional clues might net you something.

I'm glad you are enjoying it, because I feel tense about it. These interactions are always tough, especially over text based mediums, to make sure that the arguement is in character, not between us as people.

Hopefully everyone else is enjoying the interaction.

You guys don't know this obviously, and you wouldn't because they don't talk about their pasts as a rule, but Jakardros was falsly accused.

Things seem to be calming down when some of you begin to edge off the accusations, but Sherman continuing his false narrative that Kaven cut the skin off while the ogre chief was alive, and Ceven following that up with an expectation for honesty, sours the mood again immediately.

Jakardros looks around the room before speaking, "Honesty? I've seen what your honesty means. We're going to go bury our dead, let you children have a chance to think about who you're trying to fight."

Unless anyone tries to stop them, the four of them leave the room.