I think Corsario is probably right. It was fun while it lasted, see you all around the boards.
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The trade she's willing to make seems like a pretty bad deal for us, since there was a +1 chain shirt and a broken +1 rapier as well as a bunch of alchemical stuff, potions and an eversmoking bottle, which is worth 5400 gp by itself. With the 50% off she's offering, We're only getting 1875 gp in potions and 125 gp in antiplague. So we'd be giving her 8000+ gp in items for 2000 gp in potions.
Gyllan pats his belt pouch and realizes he doesn't have the coin to buy even one of the water breathing potions, much less to cover antiplague as well. "Perhaps the field marshal could pay for our potions?" he suggests. "Or we could follow Rommin's idea, and make a trade. We found all manner of stuff in the ratfolk leader's lair."
Gyllan's background as a fixer has exposed him to many such deals, and he nods knowingly at Eries' offer. "Sounds like a fine plan," he replies, "though I agree with Rommin that it would be good to be protected against disease as well as drowning. Can your alchemist friend cut us a deal on some antiplague as well?"
Before Gyllan can strike again, Rommin has felled the otyugh and ruined Corso's boots. "With friends like these - well, I'll say no more," he comments wryly. "Yes, let's get out of here."
"Dammit," Gyllan mutters quietly as the otyugh challenges the bounds of their friendship. "I was with you all the way, Rommin, sorry it didn't work out." He steps forward and slices at the creature with his greatsword!
"It just called us friends," Gyllan objects, laying a hand on Corso's blade and pushing it toward the ground, "and it sees itself as an enemy of the ratfolk! I'm with Rommin, we free it, maybe we can tell it to only eat ratfolk or monsters or something."
I'll be camping Thursday through Sunday, with little to no signal. Bot me as needed.
Gyllan pauses and considers Iozif's question, then says, "Well, it hasn't attacked us outright, and we've got lots to feed it. And it probably beats fighting it." "Stay close, Rommin," Gyllan suggests, moving toward the passage heading south, "I don't want this thing to think I'm the next snack. But I think you've got the right idea, trying to talk to it. I guess I'll give it a try." As he gets to the opening he calls out, "Here's food! Who are you? Can we go past?" He then tosses the wererat body ahead of him down the tunnel.
Gyllan collects a pair of alchemical fire flasks and a healing potion, then waits for the others to grab what interests them. Looking at the broken silver rapier for a moment, he wonders aloud, "Why do you suppose they had silver weapons? Are they fighting each other? Is there some kind of turf war between the wererats and the were...bats?" With a shrug, he continues, "I guess we should check out that other corridor, near where we fed that otyugh. Let's bring a couple of bodies along, since it seems to like wererat." He sheathes his sword and hoists the body of a dead wererat over his shoulder before moving to the south, keeping his eyes open for the great hungry monstrosity.
Taking a moment to further investigate the crates, Gyllan says, "I thought it was a bit funny that they'd only have cloaks for whatever they're planning. There's lot of stuff underneath the cloaks in the crates!"
He then takes a look around the room, wondering what else the crafty ratfolk have stashed, and moves over to a crack in the wall. "Oh, here's some more!"
"Don't worry about it, Corso," Gyllan reassures his friend, who's taking his little mistake surprisingly hard, "crazy things happen in a fight like that." With a barely suppressed grin, he adds, "Of course, it wasn't my arm, you hit our friend with anger issues."
When the wererat leader falls, Gyllan can't contain his relief, "Finally, that guy was driving me crazy! Let's search him and his thugs, then clear the rest of this place. And feed them to the otyugh around the corner while we're at it." He drops to his knees next to the body of the wererat leader and searches him for anything of significance, asking as he does so, "You all right, Rommin? The mighty Corso got you pretty good there! I was worried maybe one of those rat bites had turned Corso into one of them!"
Gyllan swings his mace once again at the wererat but misses, to his intense frustration. "You can't win!" he cries out, "Why won't you surrender, fool?"
Taking advantage of Rommin's new position behind the wererat leader, Gyllan swings his silver-headed mace once more, hoping to end this fight!
Gyllan strikes back at the wererat leader, though he misses just as badly! "Rommin, see if you can get around him!"
I'll be leaving for PaizoCon on Friday morning, and returning Monday evening, and will likely have very little time to post while I'm there. If I'm holding things up, bot me.
"The nerve of these guys, huh, Corso?" Gyllan calls out with a laugh. He swings his mace in a two-fisted grip at the wererat leader, but the strike is a poor one.
That's great news, DW!
Sorry to hear it, DW! It's been fun playing with you, even if we've just been in the one game together. Happy trails.
Yep, I'm sure, and the text you quoted demonstrates it. I can't draw on your map, but if you draw a line from the center of one wererat's token to the center of the other wererat's token, that line passes through adjacent borders of Gyllan's space, not opposite borders. The line has to pass through the opposite (parallel) sides, not just through two sides, of the square. Looking at this diagram from the PRD, the wererats are currently in situation #2 in relation to Gyllan. About Criticals and Fumbles: What can I say. I like the "cinematic" opportunities of those. I like to make something of those rolls. Sometimes it will be good for you, sometimes don't. I hope you don't mind. Sure, that's fine, and can be fun. Is there a rule set you're using or are you just creating effects as they happen?
Gyllan steps further into the irregular room, giving Rommin room to come in behind him. He then rounds on Girrigz and delivers an incredibly powerful blow on the wererat leader!
All - I will be leaving on Sunday for two weeks of travel for work. I should still be able to post with some regularity, but my schedule will be busy and I'll be many time zones away, so likely won't be posting as much or on the same schedule.
"They're waiting at the end of the hallway, hiding in the shadows on both sides," Gyllan whispers. "Let's end this. I'll take the right side." He moves forward into the room and swings his mace in a powerful, two-handed grip at the first wererat he encounters.
An idea occurs to Gyllan and he calls through the crack in the wall, "Stay right there, more food is coming." He draws his mace and says to the others, "Let's go after these ratlings before they put whatever plan they have into action. Everyone ready?" He moves toward the narrow passage to the north, his ioun torch lighting the way.
Gyllan listens to the crunching sounds of the wererat being eaten, then says, "Well, do we feed the beast, or take the fight to the wererats? I had hoped to sate this thing's hunger, but it seems that could take a while. Iozif, you have any idea what the thing we're feeding might be?"
Gyllan hooks his mace back on his belt and says, "Everyone keep an eye on that tunnel to the north. I'm going to see if I can do something about our friend in there, who only knows one word." He grabs the nearest wererat body and pushes it toward the crack, keeping himself as far away from the reach of the massive arm as he can. "Hungry? Eat!" he says, keeping the conversation very simple.
Gyllan says, "Maybe we can feed a wererat to whatever is in there, calm it down a bit," before he spins and looks to the north. "Someone's coming for us! That way!" he warns the others. He sheathes his sword and draws his silver-headed mace, moving to hide behind a rock as he does so.
Gyllan hurries after the fleeing wererat, blade in hand.
"Sorry, friend, too late for that," Gyllan says, his shadowed form stepping forward. He raises his blade and brings it down in a diagonal arc, ending in the chest of the one on the ground!
Makes sense, it's a language-dependent spell. I have an inquisitor who loves to use it, but has to be careful about who he tries to use it on - sometimes he casts tongues first, to broaden his options.
The shadows swirling around Gyllan cause the first wererat's arrow to miss him! "You won't get a second chance," Gyllan says darkly as he steps forward and swings his blade in a low, flat arc at both wererats!
Gyllan draws his blade as well, adding to Corso's argument, "If he doesn't come to speak to us, his people are going to begin dying while he waits next door." As he speaks, the shadows of the sewers seem to coalesce around him, making his form harder to distinguish.
Anybody see this encounter going anywhere but a fight? We weren't really sent to make friends with Ripperclaw, so I think fighting him is okay, but I don't want to start something if anyone thinks there's a different approach still available to us.
Gyllan doesn't move from where he stands, having seen the gestures of the wererat. "Stop," he says bluntly. "Your friends didn't notice it, but I did - you signaled them to come behind us, ready to attack. You need to do as my friend suggests, and have Ripperclaw come here to talk to us. We don't know what lies ahead, and have cause for concern. He surely knows his home well enough, and where his guards are, to be confident to come in here and simply talk. It's the closest thing to safe, neutral ground we've got. And you have given me little reason to trust you, with your secret signals and evasions."
Gyllan takes a single step forward before he realizes what the wererats have said. He lays a hand on the hilt of his sword and says, "No, I don't think so. We'll talk to him, but I'm not going in unarmed." He glances around at his companions, fairly sure that they'll agree with him, but willing to be convinced of a different approach.
I think it's a little early to make that judgment. You are moving at a much faster pace than DMDE was. Personally, I think we were going too slowly before, but we may have a period of adjustment as we figure out what pace everyone can keep. Also, I find weekends are a lot slower for posting, and for some reason this weekend has been crawling in almost all my games. As a result, the waiting for Ripperclaws seems to be taking extra long, as you wait for the other players to post any actions they'll take before he arrives. I say we give it some time, you keep going at the pace you enjoy, and we'll let everyone weigh in on whether it's working for them.
"Easy, fella, I'm just getting out of the muck and onto dry land," Gyllan says to the wererat. "You and your two big rat pets have nothing to worry about." I hope the others heard that, so they know who's waiting around the corner from them. I've got a feeling we're in for a few surprises down here, might as well cut them down where I can.
Gyllan waits for the wererat leader to appear, wondering if they're about to have a big fight on their hands. His hand strays once or twice toward his silver-headed mace, but he does not lift it from his belt.
"We want everyone to be better off," Gyllan replies, rather pleased that he hasn't been shot at, "and talking to Ripperclaws is part of that. Does he have a cure? That would be helpful indeed."
"Maybe you can let him decide if he'll talk to us?" Gyllan counters, stepping casually forward. "There's no cause for us to fight - and certainly no cause for you to shoot me with that bow of yours, we're just talking."
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