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Guys with the end of the Green Market scenario I too I have come to the end of a road, for both Shardra and myself. I guess I've not enjoyed playing the shaman as much I had hoped; and without having a PC of my own to fall back on, any pregen I play will be progressively underpowered as we advance. I think I need a break, back to low level play and my own PCs! It's been a fantastic journey through the Tapestry, and I have hugely enjoyed the stories we have built together. Thank you to all of you - I will especially miss Kal, Diazepane, and GeraintElberion in his various aliases. I'd especially like to thank GM EbonFist, who has invested so much time and effort in setting the stage for us to play on. I lose track of how many scenarios of yours I have played through, but it has to be a dozen. Thank you. Good luck chasing the echoes of Hao Jin - I will be cheering you all from the audience ! Tim
Shardra looks on in comtemplation at the place where the shade of Galdron disappeared. She seems disappointed at his departure, and ignores Zeeva's words in a reverie of thought. She perks up at the mention of restoring the shrine. "Madame Zeeva, I can help with that. It will require care and attention - there may be other unquiet spirits to placate, and it would be an honour if I could continue what good we have done today, to leave an enduring legacy in the Green Market." Turning to the rest of the party, Shardra clasps her hands together in prayer. She her normally terse mode of speech lapses as with sincerity she says, "I wish you each success and prosperity in your adventures together. It has been a pleasure working with you. We have shared trials and success, but my story ends here. Good fortune, Pathfinders - I shall read of your progress in the pages of the Pathfinder Gazetteer! Shardra turns and leaves, talking to Zeeva about their plans for the shrine.
She takes a step the the west (assuming cardinal directions mean anything here...) and raises one armoured gauntlet. She experiences a burst of relief when, despite being on a new plane, healing energies still burst forth from her in a 30' emination.
As a move action Shardra pulls a scroll of 'Fly' from her pack...
"My Clanmother was very clear - think twice before swallowing. What is this, Alchemist?" Shardra does not know what Diazepane has in mind, and will chose from the Channel Vigour options based on his advice.
On the ride caross the Korvosan hinterland, past fertile land now farmed by the city and into the more marginal lands into which the Shoanti quah have been pushed, an terse and thoughtful Shardra shares with the others what she learned from her communion with the spirit world. "The market sits atop a shoanti burial ground, it is true. But much of this land is soaked in their blood. What is special here is the shrine - erected by a man who abandoned a life of violence to commemorate the fallen, who ended his life brutally slain and interred without honour. That is the echo from the past, the spiritual perterbation, that needs to be settled." On meeting Telmayne Fire-Eyes, Shardra bows deeply and solemnly in respect - an odd sight from someone of her short and stocky frame. Rising, she looks the shaman directly in the eyes and declaims; "One of your ancestors is unquiet. We wish to aid his rest. I know not his name. He erected a shrine where today the market stands. His life honoured the fallen of two Shoanti Quah. It ended in his butchery, his boby abandoned where it fell." She pauses. "This tale I have learned. Is it known by your people? His name deserves to be held in honour."
Before heading off to meet the Shoanti Shaman, Shardra first seeks to complete her own research into the haunt, and the history of the site itself. First, she scans her own experiences of haunts to evaluate whether her ability to channel positive energy could be used to permenently dispell the haunt: . Then, she settles into a cross-legged posture and summons her own spiritual energies to cast 'Legend Lore' on the Market site, to try to establish what might lie at the heart of the mysterious events they have witnessed. legend lore: Shardra finds out more about an important person, place, or thing. It takes 2d6 weeks to cast this spell from rumors, 1d10 days to cast it with detailed information, or 1d4 × 10 minutes to cast if the subject is present.
Afterwards, Shardra learns legends about the subject, possibly facts that were forgotten or never generally known. If she casts without the subject present, this information is less complete.
Even from a distance Shardra can sense the excruciating pain being experienced by those party members causght within the burst range of such dreadful puns. Utilising her still-functioning , she barrels forward in a blur of movement and channels positive energy to dispel the awful jokes. And to heal the party.
Shardra jumps to alert as the action breaks out, dropping the book she was perusing at the first of the four northern stalls. She darts south in between the fruit baskets, ducks, and summons the spiritual energy of the long-dead Shoanti clan who hunted these shores before Korvosa's founding, to accelerate the party.
Madame Shardra peruses the stalls wares with distracted interest. She purchases a large bulb of garlic, cracks it open against a wooden post and peels the dry outer skins of a handful of cloves with a pocket knife. Thoughtfully she munches on the raw garlic cloves as she meanders through the merchants, trying to sift matters of interest from the chat and banter surrounding her... She does not engage any locals in chat; the potent stench of garlic would be enough to knock them flat. Once she regroups with the party, she ushers the others into a close huddle to share what she has learned.
Speaking with a fluency and cadence which surprises not only the rest of the party, but perhaps the lizardfolk as well, the normally taciturn dwarf advances their case. "What do we want of the Muckmouth tribe? Many things. We would see you prosper. We would see you thrive. We would see you free of servitude. We would want you to avoid any repeat of the violence done to you by the others." She pauses. "We oppose them. But this is not your fight. We desire knowledge of where and when to confront them. Can you tell us?" She looks directly at Oosthic. "And we would like to share your company, and feast with you again, on other days. But this is for you to decide." "What do you say?"
Conscientiously Shardra sets about Valeros and Kal with her wand of CLW, prodding and poking at them until satisfied that their wounds have been adequately treated. Once this is done, and she is certain none of the party (bar maybe the lion?) is suffering from Mummy Rot, she turns to her favorite activity - examining the grave goods left by the mummy. Even when the lizardfold return, she barely pays them any attention, preferring instead to run her hands over the recovered items, feeling their pasts run through her fingers. Her attention too is caught by the mosaic.
Shardra barges forward, shouldering her way through the paralysed members of the party in her magically-boosted haste to protect them with a burst of channelled divine energy. As she reaches the edge of the undead creature's aura she recoils as if hitting a physical barrier but surges through, unaffected. She launches herself into melee range with the mummy, hoping to offer the Tengu an opportunity to flank attack. As she does so, she unleashes a spiritual blast at close range:
Wow you guys know how to engineer an exciting election. I mean, I know you love your Netflix dramas, but as a season finale, this is a nail-biter. I'm looking forward to the start of the next season, where the US Army have to storm the White House and and a car chase gunfight as the Presidential limo high-tails it down Pennsyvania Avenue.
Still in a dozy reverie at the rear of the party, Shardra appears to be distant, distracted even, by events occuring elsewhere in the spirit world. Shapes blur about her; two figures locked in combat: a cadaverous slow-moving elderly man versus a paunchy orange creature with flyaway hair. The older man appear to have the upper hand but his opponent is summoning foul magics or 'loor-soots' in his defence... Shardra feels her life being absorbed by this ugly yet addictive battle. "What? Oh, a foul un-dead horror? Ok, I'm back with you - sorry" Shardra snaps back from her thoughts and reaches for a spell to support the group. She calls upon her powers of fast reaction to intercede before the Mummy attacks... but her inattentiveness has cost her and she fails to react in time...
Shardra examines the twin assailants look with interest, taking, if others are happy for her to do so, the amulet of natural armour. She is most interested however in the ancient Taldan arrow. Turning it over in her hands she blows softly upon it. Moments later, a flurry of images form out of a blue mist streaming from the shaft: - a tall heroic Taldan man bearing an impressive walrus-style mustache and a silver longbow over one shoulder;
"This" exhales a flushed Shardra in an emotional voice you have not heard from her before, "is a storied item with tales to tell. An arrow which has left echoes through the years and across continents. These are the echoes I joined the Pathfinder Society to hear!" She takes it, and protectively folds it into her pack. She has an avaricious demeanour more akin to a dwarven love of gold: most out of character for the terse and cold Dwarf you have been travelling with.
Wanting tactically to control the battlefield, slowing any potential reinforcement and blocking any potential escape route, Shardra advances up to almost within reach of the melee. She glances up the tunnel to the north-east, guestures, and calls downs a in a 40' radius reaching up to the edge of the combat. "No escape, Aspis. Throw down your sword." What can she see up the tunnel? sickening entanglement, DC17: This spell causes tall grass, weeds, and other plants to wrap around creatures in the area of effect or those that enter the area. Creatures that fail their save gain the entangled condition. Creatures that make their save can move as normal, but those that remain in the area must save again at the end of your turn. Creatures that move into the area must save immediately. Those that fail must end their movement and gain the entangled condition. Entangled creatures can attempt to break free as a move action, making a Strength or Escape Artist check. The DC for this check is equal to the DC of the spell. The entire area of effect is considered difficult terrain while the effect lasts. If the plants in the area are covered in thorns, those in the area take 1 point of damage each time they fail a save against the entangle or fail a check made to break free. Other effects, depending on the local plants, might be possible at GM discretion.
Barely registering the two shafts cannoning off her plate armour or the mild bruising that results, Shardra stamps noisily forward, ahead of the alchemist. As she does she guestures with one hand at the water of the cavern pool - in a moment it rises up, surrounding her in a coocoon of spinning water. Arriving within 30' of the archer, she points a forefinger at him, waggling it disapprovingly at him. "Wrong decision"
Lacking the requisite language skills to communicate with the tribal elder, Shardra adopts a charactistically taciturn strategy - mime. She points out each of the Pathfinders in turn; then at the Iruxi; then gives a big double thumbs-up. She mimes a whip-cracking brute; then slowly, deliberately, draws her finger across her throat, her tongue lolling from the side of her mouth. She points again at the party, then draws an egg-shaped object in mid-air. She mimes giving the egg to the elder. Finally, she hefts her weapon, and looks quizzically for the route out of the cave. She points and looks to the elder for confirmation with an inquiring expression.
Shardra hears the Iruxi speaking Taldan, and confident of the aid provided by the elf, if not the Varisian or the Alchemist, she speaks to him directly. "We will save your eggs. Because it is the right thing to do." She pauses. For what seems a suitably reptilian period of time. "We freed Iruxi at the Dog-Pharaoh's tomb. We freed you. We subdued, not killed, the Iruxi at the gate. We are not your enemy" She lets that sink in. And waits. "We oppose the Aspis and their work here. What can you say of their plans, their numbers, their weaknesses?"
Shardra regards the melee from the rear. The impact of metal upon armour, grunts of effort and cries of pain, echo off the stone walls of the claustophobic enclosed spaces of the lizards' lair. Plus, there's a lion roaring. Shardra turns and faces the partty's rear, standing so as to have a view into the darkness with her dwarven vision. She prepares to summon the spirits to her aid should hostiles come into view.
Shardra's hand pauses halfway to her mouth. She had been just about to chew on a succulent Quadiran date to top up her energy levels. The fighter's odd threat to cut through it in a moment leaves her confused. She shrugs. "Mage." She gestures the elf towards the gaps in the logs, and points out the suspended turtle shell. "Alarmed. Disable with Mage Hand ?" She steps back, content her exhaustive description of the problem was more than sufficient. She watches Valeros suspiciously as she eats her snack.
Thick sticky mud and waterlogged pathways do not suit a heavily armoured diminutive dwarf of limited strength and severely frayed temper. By the time the party reaches the Muckmouth, Shardra is exceedingly grumpy, and spoiling for trouble. "Lovely?" She spits. "Filthy. Infested. disease-ridden. These are better words."
The man makes an arcane gesture that sends a mystic projectile hurtling at Shardra Implacable, unshaken, Shardra absorbs the impact of the arcane assault without visible reaction. She raises both armoured gauntlets and in response a pulse of green spiritual energy surges out. "Save the Iruxi if you can. They yet may regret siding with the Aspis." A moment passes - then the swamp erupts in a verdant explosion of grasping, eager plant life, every branch and weed clutching at those in reach, exuding a sickly rotting odour of decay against those caught in its embrace...
Sickening Entanglement: Range long (400 ft. + 40 ft./level) Area 40-ft.-radius spread Saving Throw Reflex and Fort partial, DC17 As Entangle, except the plants are coated with an irritating sap that creates a painful, itching rash on creatures that touch them. Any creature that enters the area or ends its turn there must succeed at a Fortitude save or be sickened as long as it remains in the area and for 1d4 rounds afterward. This is a poison effect. Entangle
Entangled creatures can attempt to break free as a move action, making a Strength or Escape Artist check. The DC for this check is equal to the DC of the spell. The entire area of effect is considered difficult terrain while the effect lasts.
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