Lepidopteran's page

“Your flames are a gift,” Ellaeaanda says reassuringly to Ardoinel as one of the boggards slowly finishes burning. She calmly walks past a frantic Netkin treating a mortally wounded Cerrus—“He’ll live,” is her aloof diagnosis—and examines the ruined room a bit more closely.

Perception +9

“Like the graudalon, boggards thrive in jungles and swamps. Through the aiudara they must have travelled.” She nods at Resa’s offer. “Safe this room should be for rest, but certainty is best.”

If everyone could keep their current HP updated in their status line, that would help the healers know who needs treatment. Thanks!

"What in the Hells is wrong with you?"

Ankha is about to ask Braxton the same thing, but the intruder alters her priorities. As soon as she notices the skum, she pivots and raises her weapon defensively, but too late—the creature inflicts a nasty blow upon the half-elf. After a sorry look and a quick glance to ensure that the wound isn’t mortal, the alchemist retaliates with a powerfully accurate strike of her own.

Fauchard Attack & 2H Damage (S): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 271d10 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Confirm crit & crit damage: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 231d10 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

She will use the Bodyguard feat whenever possible, spending an AoO to improve an ally’s AC by +5 (with successful Aid Another on any roll except a 1).

Mutagen: +4 Str, -2 Int, +2 natural armor for AC18

Devise a stratagem: 1d20 ⇒ 19

With a detached air, Ellaeaanda calmly observes the growing battle for a few moments before fluidly nocking and releasing an arrow at the frog-person attacking Cerrus. Then she enters the room to support her allies, swapping out her bow for a weapon better suited for close quarters.

Attack = 19+8-2 (volley) = 25
Longbow Damage (P): 1d8 ⇒ 3 Strategic Strike: 1d6 ⇒ 6

◇Devise a Stratagem (free as an Active Lead)
◇Recall Knowledge (free from Known Weaknesses)
◇Expeditious Inspection (another free Recall Knowledge)
◆Strike (blue frog); Shared Stratagem makes Blue off-guard to Cerrus
◆Interact (swap bow for whip)
◆Stride
Whew! This is getting complicated!

“Dreams are the reality of another realm,” Ellaeaanda nods sagely when Ardoinel discusses his nightmares. “Bound by fate we are—by the fires of your mind, the shears of the norns, and the nudity of halflings.” She solemnly gazes past Netkin, referencing his query with as much portentousness as the dwarf’s dreams.

“Fortunate we are that the fates reply.” With a pulling gesture from her long, delicate fingers she draws forth another orb of orange light for herself. “Those beyond speak a tongue beyond my ken,” she adds in a non sequitur, looking at the door.

Ready for Cerrus to open the door and go first.

While Ardoinel fumes (literally), Ellaeaanda continues listening through the door, trying to discern what the creatures are and why they are here, in the basement of an abandoned Hellknight stronghold.
Spend 1 minute to Pursue a Lead: Investigate frog sounds.

When Cerrus joins her, she nods and smiles. “Valiant soul. Fortune favors the brave.” Her delicately slender frame gracefully steps aside, allowing him to pass, but she holds up a hand before he does so. “I know you prefer to have both hands free,” she says, looking at the burning torch. “I sense fate’s presence more strongly than ever—a brush with death is a brush with destiny. Allow me to request their aid.”

The elf lightly touches her necklace. It is simple and unobtrusive, but crafted with the skill of centuries: a fine, golden chain hangs around her neck, with a tiny pendant in the shape of a pair of shears, upturned and open, as if about to cut the thread that holds them. She closes her eyes. “Fate sees all, through light and dark; silence and void; memory and time. Gift but a portion of your sight to your follower—not to intervene, but to ease the inevitable.” Her wide, rounded eyes open, and the large, amethyst pupils that comprise their entirety now glow with a light beyond light. With a gentle gesture she guides a softly glowing orb to follow Cerrus, before looking at the others.

“Anyone else?”

Cast Light. It’s nice to have spells. :)

Sorry to ask, but is there any way to enable Free Archetypes on Pathbuilder?

Yes, but you need to pay a one-time fee of about $6 (if you haven't already). I just did so myself.

--Click on the 3 horizontal lines in the top-left corner (next to Menu)
--Under 'Character', choose 'Character Options'
--Scroll to the bottom. Under 'Advanced Options', check the box that allows Free Archetype (should be the 2nd box). You can also activate the Ancestry Paragon Rules too (2nd to last box). As soon as you click one of these boxes, it'll prompt you to pay/log in.

Sorry Morga—it seems like my luck with hero points has rubbed off on you. I did the same thing with my reroll earlier!

Autumn’s face goes through all the requisite emotions as Morga’s healing attempt unravels: confusion at the mixed-up herbs, indignation that she would be sold a defective healer’s kit, and sympathy for the cleric’s attempt. “There now,” she gently pats the dwarf’s arm in consolation, “we all make mistakes.” What goes unsaid is that she herself collected and labeled some of the herbs, caring only about making the kit look good enough to fool an unassuming layperson.

As for tomorrow, I currently have no preference for Stonehome vs Rusthenge, so I'll leave it to others to decide.

With their captive once again securely bound and safely stored in the tunnel, Autumn returns to Elsie’s for a well-deserved meal and rest. Upon entering, she is a little surprised to see a dwarf at the table, sharing a meal and conversation with her elven companions. “Good evening,” she nods politely at the dwarf and even bends in a hint of a curtsy, “I’m Autumn. And …” Her eyes narrow, as if in recollection. “Aren’t you from Sandpoint?” She glances at San and Vildran for confirmation.

The sorceress has seen Morga only once, at the cathedral, when she was staking out the offering box. There was no conversation, nor exchange of names, but Autumn remembers the dwarf for how long it took her to diligently clean the cathedral—so long, in fact, that Autumn never got a chance to be properly alone with the offering box, something she remembers (or regrets) all too well. Morga, in turn, may remember Autumn as a one-time penitent who spent a curiously long time praying at a time when the cathedral was usually empty.

At the elf’s questioning look Autumn cautiously says “Don’t worry, I put it back where you left it.” She doesn’t say more, at least not openly, not until she learns that Elsie and Morga are trusted ears in their schemes. "And did you say your wound is infected?" she asks San while retrieving her healer's toolkit.

“Ooh, nice job!” Ankha praises Ku’Hania’s skillful clean-up. “You definitely have a way with water. Now, let’s …” The alchemist is about to go through the newly opened door when a particularly valuable piece of machinery slams forcefully into the wall, making a sizable dent. “Braxton! Stop acting like a petulant child. We could use this workshop to craft valuable ioun stones for the colony, if it weren’t destroyed. Does Ku’Hania need to take you back to the colony? As you yourself said, adventuring is not for small children.”

With a mild humph the alchemist follows Becky into the next chamber. When the bard explains the purpose of the identification ring Ankha grows visibly excited. “Ooh! Let’s see if it works.” Not shy to engage in self-experimentation, she quickly steps inside the metal ring to see what happens.

How perfect! Ankha does have 3 ranks in Spellcraft. Just to be clear: does the ring effectively cast Permanency (Detect Magic) on Ankha?

Not surprisingly, re-entering the tunnel does not improve Autumn’s mood, which bodes poorly for their hostage. After ensuring that the prisoner’s hands and feet are securely bound, she glances around to make sure everybody is ready, then rudely awakes the man by plunging his head underwater.

“Good morning,” she greets their hostage in an icily sweet voice through frigid, chattering teeth. “I hope you had a pleasant rest. We’d like to know what you and your friends are doing at the ring of spires. Please do your best to cooperate,” she draws her dagger and idly waves it near the man’s throat, then snugly presses the point against the man’s balls. “I’m the good interrogator, you see.” Her emerald eyes flash, and one eye momentarily decays into a dull, dead grey.

Cast Jealous Hex
Intimidation (Coerce): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
Spend Hero Point for a reroll: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

“You really don’t want to meet the bad interrogator.”

Wow, I think that's my best ever use of a hero point. :)

After a moment, Ellaeaanda’s eyelids rapidly flutter open. “Not yet called,” she murmurs softly, wiping away the droplets of potion on her face as she gazes at the torch lying about a foot away. Remembering how the bird had flown directly at her source of light, and how it had ignored Resa in the dark, she reaches out and grabs the torch. “Later,” she responds absent-mindedly to Netkin while rising to her feet—though the wound still hurts badly, protecting her companions is her first priority. And so she hurls the torch away as far as she can, plunging the immediate vicinity into a darkness that favors dwarves and demons.

Interact* (grab torch), Stand*, Strike* (throw torch). I don’t know if an attack roll is needed to just throw it, but if so …
throw torch: 1d20 + 5 - 2 - 10 ⇒ (15) + 5 - 2 - 10 = 8
My thought is to treat a torch like an improvised club, so it would have a 10’ range increment, and could be thrown up to 6 range increments aka 60’. I’ve marked where I’d like the torch to land with an X on the map.

“Heinous,” Autumn curses under her breath when the doglike aberration completely resists her magic. Whatever it is, she wants no part of it. Fortunately, her companions are drawing its ire, though their increased nausea is rather unsettling. For a moment she hesitates, then shakes off her concern. Better them than her.

“Unbelievable,” she curses her luck again when the man calls for help. Five outsiders?! With her presence known—and worse, announced—she abandons her hiding spot and rushes around the back of the tent. “Shush!” she hisses at the man. Her index finger slices through the air in a scolding motion, while magical energy ripples down her arm and towards the man in a piercing arcane blast. But the magical bolt ripples and fades out of existence before reaching its target.

Phase Bolt attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Damage (P): 3d4 ⇒ (1, 1, 4) = 6
Stride*, Cast a spell**. Damn, I think I have San gave his dice to me. :)

After picking up and stowing one of the tridents, Ankha hurries to Becky’s side. “Ooh, that is interesting,” the alchemist admits. She doesn’t know how to view magical auras the way any wizard-in-training can, but she has studied a fair bit of magical theory to assist her experimental research. “Hmm …” she murmurs. “Do you see how the circle fluctuates a bit there … and there? I suspect it’s some sort of transmutation magic.”

Spellcraft (Aid Another): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
What a wonderfully efficient roll! That's just enough for success, so +5 to Becky's roll

“Not illusion,” she smiles apologetically at Braxton, then winks mischievously at Becky. “Don’t mind Braxton—he has no use for magic unless it makes beer.”

In 2e, there is no separate initiative modifier. You generally just roll Perception, though sometimes you can roll a relevant skill instead. AoN describes it here.

As she sleeps, so Ellaeaanda wakes, without any fanfare or fuss. With eyes already open, she simply stands and gratefully accepts some stew from Helba. The elf takes small, deliberate mouthfuls and chews slowly, as if she had all the time in the world.

“The sun rises and the cycle begins anew. But our destiny lies beyond the sun’s reach,” is her way of stating that she is ready to explore the basement. “Resa?” she turns to see if the rogue is awake.

Ellaeaanda simply sits down where she is, cross-legged, not bothering to find a better or more secluded spot. Seemingly unbothered by any commotion around her, she rests her palms up on her knees and stares blankly into space, as if meditating or looking at something unseen. It’s clear why some people mistakenly believe that elves don’t sleep, for she remains this way for the entire night. Only those close enough to her would eventually hear a quiet snoring that reveals that she does indeed sleep, but in an upright position with her eyes wide open.

Ellaeaanda does indeed sleep, but she also has the Unwavering Mien feat.

After Ardoinel alerts the goblins to the presence of the warg pups, Ellaeaanda chimes in with further information. “A great bat roosts in peace if you but let it be,” her hand gestures vaguely towards the northwest corner, “and the bugbear Yolechta desires the same,” her arm swivels towards the direction of the bugbear’s realm.

Before she settles down to sleep for the night, she tilts her head slightly and fixes Netkin with an odd gaze, before finally pronouncing his fate. “In your future I smell freshly baked cookies.”

Ready to head to the entrance to the basement in the morning.

“This is so heinous,” Autumn mutters nervously, wincing as she clutches her stomach. “Elsie wasn’t kidding about the nausea.” Unlike the others, she moves no closer to the eerie monument; indeed, she takes several steps back.

“Feeding blood to this thing is not a good sign. Some sort of ritual, I’m sure.” She glances down at the ground around her, wondering who might have come out here. “I’ll just stay back here and admire the beautiful sunset while you explore these ruins that aren’t haunted or troubled at all.”

Perception (Search for tracks): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Recall Knowledge (Occultism +3) for any info about relevant rituals.

“Like the tortoise that bears the world, a turtle holds the corpse afloat,” Ellaeaanda informs the others. “Unlike the lonely great tortoise, a fellow turtle keeps this one company.” She moves away, respecting the reptiles’ space. “Unless you would disturb the dead, let us leave them in peace.” The elf skirts around the room towards the broken-down portion of the eastern wall, where she examines the door before opening it.

Perception +8 for traps etc

“You go ahead,” Autumn encourages San with the permissive smile of someone with absolutely no interest in a bunch of rusty spires. “I think it’s worth learning more about Mara Froderson, so I’ll do that instead. And don’t worry,” she forestalls any objections with a confident wave of her hand, “about what happened yesterday at the dry dock. He won’t know it’s me, and I think he’ll be more receptive if it’s just one person asking questions, instead of a whole gaggle of us.” With the rain no longer an issue, she finds a secluded place to start assembling a proper disguise. Out of her backpack comes a full set of makeup, a mirror, some wigs, and a change of clothes—it becomes rather clear that she’s done this sort of thing before.

Busy part of the trip is over, so I should be back to posting regularly now. Autumn will use her Disguise Kit to Impersonate (just look like someone other than herself) with Deception +7. Plan is to casually walk past the dry dock to see who’s there—if it’s someone different, she’ll enter, but if it’s the same grumpy old man, she’ll head to the Froderson house instead. I do love splitting the party. :)

Coming out of her reverie, Ellaeaanda announces “The crystal I shall take for Yuelral, and the futures revealed within.” While they move on, continuing their exploration of the rest of the castle, she comments to Netkin, in a voice that is both off-handedly casual and supremely confident, “The cat is your spirit animal. Cherish and embrace your fate.”

Move to location on map (with usual Perception +8 for traps etc)

“You’ve actually been alive since before the Azlant empire fell!!” Ankha’s eyes are as wide and excited as if they were spherical squirrels overdosed on nuts, caffeine, and sugar. She didn’t really expect them to be alive during Azlant times—that was just wishful thinking—but now that her wish has come true ...

“Do you need to do anything to stay alive for so long? Special diet, exercise regimen, topical application of mildly poisonous flora or toxic heavy metals?” She rattles off the questions like kernels of corn popping in a bonfire, and in the blink of an eye the alchemist has fished out her formulae book in one hand, a quill in the other, and both are waiting eagerly to spring into action. “Not that I, uh, know the latter from direct experience,” she adds, in response to any judgmental looks she may receive. “Or do you just need to pray to your goddess, or maybe even do nothing at all?”

She makes a distracted, shooing gesture at Braxton without even looking at him. “You go on. I’ll catch up later, or else come back if you need me.” Her attention is firmly fixed upon the pair of statues. That Braxton is behaving just like Eliza—leaving immediately with promises to return and learn—does not cross her mind at all. Only one thing is on her mind.

“Please, tell me all about your creator Acavna. What must I do to have her grant me your longevity—or even immortality?--and eternal youth?”

”I believe accords are a type of vehicle.”

“Wait, what?” Ankha exclaims in confusion. “So an accord is like a carriage, or a ship? Would it help if we fixed it? Or is this an Azlanti thing?” She watches helplessly, then suddenly smacks herself in the forehead.

“Ooh, of course! I keep forgetting about Alba’s formula.” The alchemist plucks a vial from her bandolier, one that she actually had the foresight to prepare that morning but had forgotten. After gulping it down she listens to the conversation with brand new ears.

Drink extract of Comprehend Languages

“Ooh, I can understand! And I’m so glad you can understand Common. Who is this other pupil of yours, and what’s in the crumbling structure to the north?” she asks eagerly in the common tongue. After a pause, she puts away her weapon and narrows her eyes, examining the statues more closely. “And … what are you? Are you statues come to life? Were you alive during the Azlant empire?”

“Good day to you sir,” Autumn greets the elderly man with a friendly smile and a little curtsy. “Are you Derrol Finnick? Elsie told us that you are a master craftsman, and we were hoping that you could help us with a small task. We’d be willing to pay for your services, of course.” Glancing around the building she adds "I really love what you've done with your place."

Diplomacy (make an impression): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

This is my last post for now--I leave for my trip today. But that diplomacy roll should be good enough for the rest of the party to ask questions freely.

Reminder: I'll be away on a trip from August 10-19, so there'll be a slight overlap until Vildran returns on August 12/13. I will have some internet access but posting will be unreliable at best.

Thank you very much Delta for running this game! I had fun despite its brevity.

"I wholeheartedly agree," Reaching Rings says. "There is no reason for these flowers to suffer now that we have successfully removed the portal. With careful hypothesizing and testing we should be able to find a safe location for them to grow."

A tank would be lovely! I wasn't thinking cleric until I saw Followers of Fate. :)

Vildran Aistellmar wrote:

There's a little time before this occurs, but it's a longer time away so I didn't want to spring it at the last moment.

I've got a trip from 7/31 to 8/12, and for much of it I won't have internet access.

(not sure if this game will end before then or not, but in case)

Reminder

I've got you covered from 7/31 to 8/10 (when I leave for vacation).

Lazy last day of vacation here, so I snuck in a post.

Okay, I'll squeak in quick posts for my turns then.

FYI/reminder: I'm on vacation starting today and lasting until July 9, so please have Autumn tag along as an npc who's busy recuperating. If action is needed (e.g. in combat), Vildran can bot her.

FYI, I'll be on vacation from June 30 - July 9, so Rings will float around in the background as an NPC while the others take the lead. If combat breaks out I should still be able to contribute some short posts though.

With a painful groan, Autumn’s eyelids slowly flutter open. She lies still for several dazed moments, then, with some effort, she struggles onto her elbows and groggily looks around. Seeing everyone on board and at ease, she slumps back down with a tired but relieved sigh. As her other senses return, she notices that her hands are still sticky with the blood that has dyed her dress red. “So not worth it,” she mumbles to herself.

Listening to Ordwi, she nods weakly at her suggestion. “Getting out of here sounds fetch.” However, the sorceress doesn’t move to help—besides needing time to recover from her brush with death, she knows even less about sailing than Ordwi. After all, that’s why a Scarnetti goon was sailing the small craft she arrived on. That memory jogs her into alertness.

“Has anyone found Jack? The man who was with me when I arrived?”

Figured I should give the nameless goon a name, even if we never see him again. :)

Ellaeaanda nods approvingly at the halfling’s deduction. “Netkin sees with true sight. In tropical swamps and jungles graudalon dwell. The Cinderclaws have brought such savagery here,” she adds, carefully choosing her words to reflect the hellknight’s axiom that ‘Savagery must be quelled in the land, home, and mind.’

Looking at Alak, she suggests an alliance. “Shall we align our efforts with our fates? We could help you find your heirloom if you aid us against this cult. Priceless is your knowledge of this citadel and its crypts.” To Cerrus’s question, she obviously assents.

I'm here, but holding off on posting until Autumn is conscious.

“Yuelral’s favor upon you,” Ellaeaanda remarks approvingly when Ardoinel’s magical needles finish off the imp. “You’ve learned your lessons well. Did your parents teach the magic?”

After all the little devils have been sent back to hell, she stows her weapon and addresses Alak. “Well struck,” she compliments the knight. “How be you here when this citadel was abandoned?” To explain their own circumstances she adds “Fate delivered us to aid the goblins. And find a firestarter.” She glances meaningfully over at Calmont.

Sense Motive +8 on Alak please.

Thank you so much Vildran! Just got internet back so I posted what I had prepared on my computer yesterday.

“Heinous.” Autumn winces in great pain as metal skewers pierce her leg, but through gritted teeth she maintains her wits and composure. Her initial instinct is to retry her spell, but out of the corner of her eye she can see the elven wizard pulling on board. Even if she successfully charmed the dero, it would just attack Vildran instead. Perhaps if they were on land, where she could make a speedy getaway, she would abandon the elf to such a fate, but here, trapped on a small boat, she would buy nothing but a few moments of time. Besides, it was her penchant for self-preservation that made her board the ship first, and look where that got her.

At least Ordwi is safe, she thinks to herself with some surprise—when did she start putting others before herself? Focus. Her charm spell, so perfect as a failsafe should a mark angrily discover her con, is of limited use without a common tongue. As much as she hates the idea, in a choice between fight or flight, where flight is not an option …

Desna save me. The sorceress throws up her left arm protectively. The air ripples and shimmers, radiating out from her hand into a glimmering burnt orange shield of force, as her sleeve drops, revealing her arcane tattoo, a sturdy oak with multicolored leaves, now glowing with a soft, protective light. Her right arm thrusts forward in a stabbing motion, as if her extended fingers were knives, and the air here seems to disintegrate into a cold, sharp void that stabs into the dero at point-blank range.

Cast Shield* (AC is now 17), Phase Bolt** vs dero on ship. Let's use the bot post's rolls (attack 19, damage 6) so they don't go to waste.
Reaction: Shield Block.

I could see alchemical items being important since we might have limited access to potions, and for some people, water breathing might be an issue soon.

Okay, just let me know if you have any specific items in mind. Otherwise I'll just make an assortment of stuff that might be useful. Keep Watch would cut crafting time in half (so about half a week to make a 50 gp item).

@GM: Are you okay with me turning Ankha into a production factory?

Also, unless someone else wants it., I'd like to claim the Ring of Portection+1

I'm good with Ku'Hania taking it.

I'm cool with whatever (ruse or no ruse). Given the urgency of the situation (aka combat) though, it does makes sense to just rush in and have each PC do their own thing. (Autumn wouldn't cast Illusory Disguise until we've encountered dero first.) I will also wait to see what the other PCs want to do first.

(Also, confirming that I'll cover for Vildran this weekend.)

So, where to next? I find it easier and quicker to discuss such things OOC (for me, IC debate of such things is generally uninteresting and takes way too long). Thus far there seem to be two options:

1) Explore the citadel thoroughly first.
2) Go below through the secret entrance to take on the cultists.

I'm okay doing either, though my preference is for #2. I'm not sure what type of players you all are--I know some like to investigate every single room of a dungeon, while others visit only those germane to the plot (I definitely fall in the latter category).

Also, what do you all what to do with Calmont? Take him along to possibly help (or get in the way)? Tie him up? Something else?

After fooling the dero so completely, Autumn celebrates with a tiny smirk and a knowing look at the others. But her satisfaction quickly fades when dusk falls and her companions discuss making camp. Conflicted, she lights a torch and takes some time to examine the scene before them while mulling over their options. She picks up the potion bottle, gives it a tentative sniff, then offers it to the others for examination. “Healing, I assume?”
Please roll Recall Knowledge (Medicine +4) to determine if the potion is a healing potion (and possibly how powerful it is). How bad does the wound appear from the bloody dressings?
Survival: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14 She wants to see if they can continue following a trail. Also, are the blood droplets getting bigger or smaller?

So not a hero. Autumn has absolutely no desire to meet a band of dero in the dark—indeed, she would much rather be safe at home in Sandpoint—but … An image of Titus fills her mind. It’s bad enough that the princess is a priestess, but to return completely empty-handed, without anything whatsoever to show for her journey … The image is replaced by one of her mother. Damn it.

“Bastiano,” she begins with a sigh, “you said the dero’s kin are cornering some woman, and that it was willing to lead you to her after dark?” The sorceress frowns uncomfortably. “That means it’s able to leave its post after the sun sets, and warn its kin about us.” Her discomfort deepens. “I don’t like the idea of going after the dero in the dark, but at least they won’t know we’re coming, and it will be on our terms. Better than them finding us unawares while we sleep. And … it sounds like they’ll move in on the cornered woman tonight. Tomorrow may be too late.”

Since the GM does not bot for this game, it might be useful for us players to decide how and when to bot for each other. I’m usually pretty good about posting regularly and warning about absences in advance, but if I ever miss a day or more I’d prefer for Autumn to just tag along in the background, unless (a) combat, or (b) bottleneck.

a) I’ve posted generic botting instructions for combat in Autumn’s profile (at the bottom).

b) If Autumn is the only PC who can advance the plot/share critical information (e.g. only PC who understands a certain language, only PC who can pick a lock or break down a door, etc) then please assume that she does the deed/shares the info as I don’t want to hold up the rest of the party.

With nothing happening up on the ledge, Autumn slowly inches closer and closer to view the orc. Almost immediately she regrets this choice. With a queasy stomach, she turns away from this assault on both sight and smell—whatever thoughts she had about examining the body more closely have completely vanished. It certainly doesn’t help when she overhears Sidonie conjecturing that the woman’s unsettling condition might be contagious.

With orc off the menu, Autumn turns her attention back to San and a more palatable problem: the creature on the ledge. “You might need to climb up, but let’s try something else first.” Seeing Vildran mouth words without sound, she has a pretty good idea what he’s doing, but it’s also something she’s already tried without success. Instead the sorceress attempts something a little more forceful.

Her pale green eyes gleam in the setting sun as she focuses her attention on the ledge … and then suddenly there is the sound of several large rocks tumbling down the cliff face above the ledge—though strangely no rocks can be seen.

Cast Figment (auditory illusion of rockfall to startle creature out of position)

No worries Delta! Thanks for keeping us updated.

“Venom,” is Autumn’s simple verdict on the wound. Before they set off to follow the path north, she takes a look at the shipping manifests. She generally isn’t interested in such things, but she recognizes the importance of trade deals to Titus, so she scans the documents for anything of interest: exotic goods that might be odd for Iron Harbor, names she might recognize from working at the Sandpoint Boutique, et cetera. After pocketing the coins for safekeeping, she follows San, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary that might help them find the missing priestess.

Please roll Lore (Mercantile) +3 to Recall Knowledge for me. Autumn will Search +4 (but if either Sidonie or Bastiano Search, she'll Follow the Expert instead to get the extra +2 bonus).

If no one objects, I can keep track of the party loot (gold, items, etc) in my profile for distribution as needed.

When the halfling shifts to a more reasonable tone, Ellaeaanda slowly lowers her longbow. “Death achieves nothing. You hear but do not listen. The goblins know not the way. Your threats are flames in a library, destroying your goal in vain. Cerrus,” she glances over at the thaumaturge and his hefty tome, “is the light you seek. Tell him about the gates and ring.”

The elf does not seem to notice Resa’s unstated plea for guidance, but instead returns her attention to the goblins.

Asmodeus damn Titus. Autumn maintains a neutral expression while Vildran corrects her misunderstanding and provides actually accurate information, unlike the mangled gossip that Titus hadn’t bothered to check. Would it be too much to ask for his other informants to hear the difference between ‘priestess’ and ‘princess’? Inwardly, she sighs. What do I do now? She wasn’t surprised by the Scarnettis’ insistence—the potential influence garnered from rescuing a princess would be great indeed—nor by her choice for this particular mission. But her fine clothes, practiced decorum, and silver tongue likely won’t have the same effect upon a mere priestess—and a priestess of The Lucky Drunk at that.

No matter. The sorceress will have to make the best of a bad situation. Perhaps the priestess is a high ranking member of the church, or perhaps that letter holds something of import that she can leverage. She’ll have to make do with credit for rescuing a priestess instead, and worry about the consequences later.

During this internal monologue, her face instinctively reacts to the odd elf’s tale with practiced ease, mimicking whatever emotions are appropriate, including feigning interest in the strange bruises even when she feels none herself.

“Thank you,” she responds to Vildran’s exposition with a pleasant smile as she dutifully takes the elixir. Autumn inspects the label, noting its usefulness with a nod, then gazes at the wizard with a mild look of respect when his magic manifests through his antennae.

On the other hand, she ignores his warning about the bolt, gently tugging it out of the body for a closer inspection of the wound.
Please roll Medicine +4 for Recall Knowledge about the poison.

Autumn pauses when she has a sudden realization. Looking back to where she came ashore, she asks “Wait … that’s their dinghy, not yours?” Her gaze drifts to the rope spanning the gap, and she thinks about the tremendous effort required to cross it. “Unlikely they crossed the rift then.”

She gives a little shrug. “But we might as well see what’s around the corner since we’re across.”

“Wait …” a puzzled expression furrows Autumn’s brow when Bastiano talks about the priestess, “… you’re looking for a priestess, not a princess?” It’s clear that her information about the matter is not completely reliable. She looks around at them all. “What exactly have you learned about the missing person? You all spoke with the man who washed ashore, right?”