Parison Drakemoor's page

Thank you for running this scenario for us. While not playing this scenario before now, I had heard about it through the grapevine of fellow Society players about it being a tough scenario from the GM's perspective to be able to run and I was wondering how it would translate to PbP, but you seemed to have done well with it, Ladile. My hat is off to you.

Now I have a bit of sad news. I'm not going to be continuing in the campaign, or in PbP, for that matter. I've been doing PbP pretty solidly for a little over 18 months and while I've had fun with it, I'm starting to experience burnout. Truth be told, I've not been as active in the past six months in Society play, whether it be in-person, online, or PbP.

As a gamer, I've enjoyed getting to interact with all of you and help tell the stories of the past scenarios we've done (with some great moments of both seriousness as well as humor). Thank you for letting me game with all of you and I wish all of you the best of luck going forward with the next scenario.

Explore, report, and cooperate. Game on!

The dawning of that next day and the next step towards a brighter future dawns brightly over Urigen. Within the window of his room, Parison undertook his daily ritual of his morning prayers to his goddess. On those days of morning sunshine, the beams of light always gave the priest a secure sense of both safety and comfort. As he held his silver medallion in his hand, the sun's rays seemed to enhance his sense of euphoria moreso than he'd remembered since donning the Dawnflower's mantle.

"Something new begins and something ends."

The feminine voice was commanding, yet sublime. Startled, Parison looked up, his invocation dying in his throat. No one was there. He looked around, even throwing a sideways glance under the bedframe. All was dust underneath.

Perplexed, the young man resumed his morning prayers to Sarenrae with a modicum of wariness. When he finished, he ambled downstairs to join his friends for the breakfast meal. As he partook of the spread of food on the table, he looked around the table at his companions in silent contemplation. Rumble was arduously putting away as much food as he could. Janus and Zithembe were debating the nature and philosophies of the First World between bites and Hepsubia and Maria were discussing the merits and flaws of bows and swords. Grinning serenely, he turned his focus back to filling his own stomach.

None of them noticed when a gangly man with blond hair wearing a backpack entered the Oaken Knot's common room. His travelling clothes bore the dust of the open road and a rapier was sheathed at his side. His eyes scanned the room until his eyes fell upon Sarenrae's cleric.

"Parison Drekmore?"

The man's high-pitched voice brought the flow of conversation and breakfast to a halt as all eyes turned to the source of the interruption. "I am he," Parison replied as he gave the newcomer a look of both appraisal and scrutiny. "Who are you?"

"My name is Darro and like yourselves, I, too, am a member of the Pathfinder Society," he replied as he produced a wayfinder with the open road glyph from underneath his tunic. Returning the wayfinder from whence he produced it, the man unshoulder his backpack and rooted within before producing two pieces of parchment. "I was sent to find you and give you this," he said, presenting a scroll bearing Sarenrae's seal the mark of the high priest of her temple in Absalom. "From Captain Smine, who hopes you are well and that your assignment is progressing nicely," Darro added, producing a second scroll.

Parison took the latter scroll first, opened it, and silently began reading it.

"Ah tried ta tell 'is fool th ye'd be comin' back an ta wait, but he insisted on findin' ye. Hope that ye an ye fella agents be 'ale an 'earthy an' 'at things in Urigen be goin' as planned. Explore, report, cooperate." Holgarin Smine

"We were just in the process of wrapping up our business here in Urigen," Parison replied. "We just have to help with a ritual and we'll be finished here. Holgrin will be pleased with what we have to tell him." As the others at the table began introducing themselves to Darro, Parison broke the seal on the second scroll and began to read its contents. An expression of grimness crossed his features as his eyes moved back and forth across the page, the words within hitting him like arrows. As he finished reading the scroll, lines of determination creased the man's grimance. He finished the scroll, rolled it up, and placed it not uncaringly into his backpack and stood up.

Something new begins. And something ends.

"My friends," he said, his voice serious and mixed with sadness and regret. "I fear the time has come for me to say farewell to all of you. That was from the temple of Sarenrae in Absalom. My services are needed at the Temple of Redeeming Sun in Merab." A sigh escaped his lips. "I must have made a lasting impression on my brethren when we were there dealing with that business with Veshtahz and the cultists because they asked for me specifically. I have to leave immediately."

Parison looks down at his feet for a moment, feelings of sadness and guilt welling up inside him. "I hoped I'd never have to make this choice," he said in a thick voice filled with sadness. "Save Janus, all of you knew that if I had to choose between Sarenrae or the Society of which I would choose. That time has come, ready or not."

Taking a deep breath, Parison thinks carefully about the words he will say next. "It has been an honor and a privilege to work with, travel, and get to know each and every one of you. We've had our fights and differences of opinion at different times but I feel like those times served to bring us closer together instead of pushing us apart. Janus, my only regret lies with you and that being I didn't have the time to come to know you as well as I have the others but you have earned my respect and admiration in that time."

He looks around at the others. "Hepsubia, Zithembe, Maria...and Rumble," he says. "All of you have a special place in my heart and my thoughts and you are more than just fellow Pathfinders and friends. You have become like family and I have come to know and love all of you in that regard. Thank you for giving me a chance and for being my friend. May Sarenrae watch over you and bless all of you in your trials and adventures yet to come."

"Yes," Parison says. "They'll also want to talk to Henbane, which is what we were on our way to set up before these fey," he says, waving a hand at the corpses of the grig and quicklings, "tried to stop us."

Parison steps next to Maria. "Blessed goddess, please aid my friend with your divine insight," he prays as he reaches out his hand and touches Maria's shoulder.

Parison moves to Maria and casts Guidance on her. +1 competence bonus to her next attack roll, saving throw, or skill check.

Although his friends are better armed for dealing with the quicklings and the grig, Parison is not. His weapons aren't made of cold iron and would do miniscule damage at best if he were to be able to hit any of them. None of his companions are seriously injured, but Parison wants to remain close in case things take a turn for the worse.

"Sarenrae," he murmurs out, beginning to pray. "Grant me safe harbor with your divine grace and let our enemies see that I pose no threat to them as long as I do not threaten them in turn."

As he completes the spell, Parison feels his goddess envelop him in an invisible warmth. Motes of light sparkle here and there on his clothing and armor as he takes a passive stance toward the hostile fey creatures, hearing the inner thoughts of calm and peace pushing away thoughts of aggression and hostility.

Parison takes a 5 ft. step to position himself near Maria and casts Sanctuary on himself. Enemies trying to hit him with weapons or targeted spells have to succeed at a Will save to be unaffected or they lose their part of that action and can't attack him for three rounds as long as he doesn't attack or use attack spells.

Parison is taken aback as the attack comes suddenly when the group reaches the town square. It's only when one the quicklings tries to go after Rumble does the dangerousness of the situation snap him out of inaction.

"Goddess," he implores as he steps up to his friend, "please give your protection to my companion that it may serve him in this battle."

Finishing his prayer, he reaches out and touches Rumble's shoulder. As he feels the power of Sarenrae flow through him and onto his companion, Rumble's stoneplate armor seems to glisten with a subtle glow.

Parison takes a 5 ft. step and casts Shield of Faith on Rumble. +2 deflection bonus to Rumble's AC.

"What Zithembe says is true," Parison says, not wishing for the bonds of peace established with his friends and Henbane to be broken and speaking for the first time since the group ascended the tower via portals. "And we're going to see the mayor to make this accord a reality."

"The only blue portal left is the one where the gears are?" Parison asks.

As he looks at where the portal is, the cleric's face pales, but his features are stoic with resolve. "I've seen a lot since becoming a follower of the Dawnflower and a lot have I seen since venturing with the lot of our group," he says, his voice twinged with nervousness.

"Now is the time to show my belief in my companions in addition to Sarenrae," he finishes and then begins to jog toward the tower wall before he can change his mind. As he reaches the wall, Parison suddenly changes direction and angles back toward the railing separating the clock tower gears from the landing. As he reaches the railing, he emits a forceful cry as he makes a leap of faith over the railing with all of the strength he can summon and spreads his arms in a swan dive toward the portal.

Acrobatics: Jump: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

Parison gets a running start and leaps over the railing into the blue portal. I copied my icon to show my path taken to it and I shouldn't take any penalties since I got a 15-foot running start to do a horizontal jump. Based on the path, it will be a 15 foot leap and I rolled a 16 on the dice, so I just barely make it.

"I agree with Zithembe," Parison says as everyone else weighs in on the diagram. "But where do we start? Also, there are the arrows. Would that mean that the portals we take also need to be ones that go to different floors?"

Parison had taken the opportunity after the fight to use another charge of the wand of cure light wounds on himself.

Wand:CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

The egregious wound and scar tissue were completely gone, replaced by healed muscle and flesh of a healthy color. But the cleric has no time to breathe before hearing commotion below. Most of his companions had charged down the stairs. Parison looked over to see Rumble and Zithembe engaged with what appeared to be a common looking gunny sack.

"Hey now!" the cleric admonished as he began to descend toward the ground floor as quickly as possible. "No one's getting sacked if we've got anything to say about it!"

If Parison had the time to heal up between the combats, his action will be to all out run 120 feet to get to the first floor where he can aid those in danger of the construct's attacks He should be able to get down on the second floor based where he was originally on the 3rd floor.

Parison stands up, desperately looking to get back into the fight. His companions and the enemies are on the other side of the gears save for Maria. He looks at the portal near him. Going through it might help close the distance quickly but he dismissed the idea as being unsafe in terms of self-risk. Moving, the cleric opts to take the long away around the gears. He rushes past Maria and fails to see another portal before stepping into it and suddenly finds himself behind Janus Too.

"Woah.....that was an unexpected trip!" he says, feeling a little light-headed from his first experience of portal hopping.

Parison stands up and them moves through Portal 1 and winds up where he is on the map.....I hope.

Parison screams out as the arrow tears through flesh and muscle. He looks down to see blood flowing out through two different holes in his body as the arrow has passed completely through. Thankfully, the arrow didn't pierce the stomach or any vital organs in the lower reaches of his abdomen as the enter and exit wound were to the left of center on his body.

The cleric drops to his knees, hoping that the railing around the gears will provide additional cover and draws out his wand of cure light wounds. "Sarenrae, please bestow your healing touch through this wand," he murmurs out in desperation as he touches himself with the wand.

Wand: CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

As the magic of the wand washes over him, the wounds stop bleeding and close over, but some nasty scab and scar tissue remain that weep a miniscule amount of blood but not enough to be dangerous.

Parison drops prone as a free action, uses a move action to draw the wand and a standard action to heal himself with it.

Parison tries to clear the cobwebs from his head at the sound of fighting on the floor above. He moves past Rumble and stops a step or two away from both Hepsubia and Maria. He takes in the scene and sees that it will take Rumble some time to close to the closest enemy. Hepsubia had just beaten him up the stairs. One option remained for the cleric of Sarenrae.

"Precious Dawnflower," Parison intones softly. "Please continue to bestow your divine insight to my companion," he says, reaching out to touch Maria on the shoulder and feeling the power of Sarenrae leave him and enter Maria.

Parison casts Guidance on Maria. +1 bonus to Maria's next attack roll, saving throw or skill check, whichever she chooses.

"I will wait for someone to drop a rope from the window," Parison says.

Parison watches as the rope Maria has fixed in place descends to the ground. "After you," he says to Zithembe. The cleric watches as the shabti makes his way up the rope to the window. Exhaling, Parison takes hold of the rope and uses it to walk the wall up toward the window and his compatriots.

Climb: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

The wispy breath seems to come from nowhere. Parison isn't fast enough to avoid being covered by it, but he is fast enough to take in a mouthful of air and hold his breath long enough to get out of it to where he can safely breathe.

"Where is it?" he says, gasping for breath as he looks to Janus and then back to where the dark vapors emanated from. "We should be able to see it when it did that!"

As Janus calls out the gloom dragon's location, Parison moves down the steps in the direction that the inquisitor is pointing. He rushes up to Rumble as the dwarf moves toward the general area where the elusive gloom dragon has been spotted.

"Don't swing behind you, my friend," Parison called out as he arrived behind Rumble. The dwarf's eyes were red and watery and Parison wasn't about to take any chances in case his battle buddy had been blinded by the glitterdust. He didn't want to be the victim of friendly fire via Sledge.

"Blessed Dawnflower, I ask again for your guidance, this time for my companion," he prays. The warmth of Sarenrae's blessing flows through him in response and he reaches out to tap Rumble on the shoulder.

Parison moves and casts Guidance. Rumble gets a +1 compentence bonus to either his next attack roll, saving throw, or skill check.

As bedlam ensues, Parison looks around. He sees Hepsubia make a graceful landing to cut off the retreat of the vexgit and Rumble in close proximity. Maria, on the other hand, is facing off against another of the otherworldly creatures and no one is close to lend assistance.

"You've got one right where you need him, Rumble. Between you and a graceful elf!" he calls out. "I'll stay with Maria."

Moving on the platform to just above and behind Maria on the steps, Parison begins to call upon the aid of his goddess.

"Sarenrae, please grace my friend with your divine clarity," he prays. Sensing the power of the Dawnflower manifesting within him, he reaches out and touches Maria's shoulder, giving her the guidance of Sarenrae.

Parison takes a 5-foot step and casts Guidance on Maria, giving her a +1 competence bonus to her next attack roll, saving throw, or skill check, whichever she chooses to use it for.

As his friends examine the tower closely and make their discoveries, the priest of Sarenrae suddenly stumbles upon the solution to end the root of all conflict between all races. He stands up to share his findings but finds himself alone. He draws his scimitar, planning to make a scratch in the morter stone where he saw the solution.....and sees that the solution to eliminate war isn't there.

Was he looking at the right stone? He looks at the one to the left. No luck. The one on the right. Nothing there. Furitively, Parison looked at every stone in the area he knew to be standing in. The cleric came up empty. To make matters worse, he'd completely forgotten what he'd seen in his search to locate this lost knowledge.

The cleric searched in vain until it was almost time for the ceremony to start. He'd thought about disclosing what he'd seen. Or what he'd thought he'd seen. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell him, but an inner voice cautioned him against such speech. At best, his companions would consider his discovery a mirage brought on by spirits. At worse, they would think him a lunatic or a heretic of his deity. Or both.

The effects of the applejack was beginning to diminish, but he still felt that sense of scrubbed clarity of wisdom lingering when the faces of the tower erupt in a kaleidoscope of color. The display of clockwork mood lighting seemed to enhance Parison's euphoria, but when the figures began appearing around the square, the scene sobered the cleric up rapidly. While not scared, he was certainly amazed by arrival of these strange otherworldly creatures.

"Goddess, grant me and my companions your blessing in the coming conflict!" he shouts above the din of noise, calling on the aid of Sarenrae.

Parison casts Bless. +1 to all attack rolls and save vs. fear effects and will take a 5 foot step toward the edge of the platform.

Parison catches up with Rumble, but the rest of the group happen to be right on their heels and they find themselves at the clock tower in less time than it takes to tell.

The stonework in the floor struck the disciple of the Dawnflower as strangely intriguing. Parison began to take in the craftsmanship as he knelt down and slowly ran his hand over the floor. The applejack coursing through his body seemed to be scrubbing through the blood vessels within his brain and leaving him with a fresh sense of awareness. He wandered away from the others as the stonework engrossed him and became all-consuming in his state of alcoholic transcendence.

Perception (Stonework of both floors): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11

If I hadn't been playing this up as such, I'd use my GM reroll. I won't, though, because this is a prime example of how someone who has consumed alcohol thinks they're ten feet tall and bulletproof when they're not. I never get to do this with a character, either, so from a storytelling point of view, this is hilarious.

Parison keeps from grinning when Zithembe convinces Rumble to not be a party-pooper, but suddenly finds that easier to do when the dwarf begins to encourage everyone to knock back some drinks.

"One applejack for me, if you please," he requests to a nearby server and then pays the appropriate price. When delivered, he slowly sips on it as he listens to his companions and Seripan discuss the clock tower, its history, and the plans Mayor Ogden has for rediscovering its purpose.

The cleric holds up his glass to take another drink. His eyes widen as he sees that he's almost reached bottom. He turns and the server, like magic, is right there asking him if he'd like more to drink.

"No, no," he says, waving the server away. "One's enough to prime the pump. More would just clog the pump pipe." A cheerful glowing sensation seemed to be spreading from his cheeks across his face and his earlier melancholy had been pushed to the back of his mind by the current buzz he was feeling from the drink.

Parsion found himself admiring the shabti all the more when the idea is brought up to investigate the clock. The admiration turned to surprise when Rumble lit out of the tavern half-cocked and half-lit. "I'd better catch up with him. No idea of what trouble might come looking for him when he's like that," he says, quickly excusing himself. "Nice to meet you, Seripan," he calls back while trying to sidestep the other revelers in the tavern as he hustles to catch up with the dwarf.

Parison kept his words and his thoughts to himself as introductions with both mayors of Uringen. The trip through the wood, the primal vibe and the activity of trapspotting provided a focus to keep his thoughts from wandering to his inner doubts of his adequacy. Keeping silent as the others spoke to Ogden and Mieren.

Goddess, why am I here?

The cleric racked his brain. Every mission for the Society seemed to have a religious connotation that had allowed him to display his expertise. The diplomatic mission to establish peace with the Sewer Dragons didn't have any ties to religion or a base to spread the word of the Dawnflower, witnessing the brokered truce as a representative of the church of Sarenrae had given the alliance between both parties a religious stamp of approval that could swing some weight.

This missive from the Society was different from any he'd previously undertaken as an agent. There were no obvious religious ties, nor was it an ambassadorial mission of peace. He almost thought of seeking out Holgarin Smine and asking to be replaced once the group had been briefed on the particulars. An agent with an interest in science or a Numerian background seemed to be better suited for such an assignment. His friends, especially Rumble had been all that prevented him from asking to be replaced. He'd never be able to forgive himself if he'd not come and something dreadful should happen to them.

The overbearing presence of foreboding that had been omnipresent on their trek through the woods had done little to assuage the insecurity Parison felt. It was that insecurity that prompted him to keep quiet and just listen as the others spoke with the authority figures of the township. Wrapped up in his inner turmoil, he was uncharacteristically lax in trying to monitor the tone of the duo's words and their body language for any sutble clues about their personalities.

In Marduke's shop, Parison replaces his antiplague and picks up a pair of thunderstones. When they reach the Oaken Knot, the cleric observes the mix of people and suddenly wishes he'd thought to have purchased a weapon blanch that could give any of his weapons a one-shot effectiveness as if it were made of cold iron. The atmosphere within the inn's confines seems relaxing and it has an immediate effect on Sarenrae's disciple. Parison is unable to help himself, grinning, when Rumble complains to the group about having no time for merriment.

Thanks, battle-buddy. I needed that.

"I don't know what she is, but I think she was talking about when all the clock faces align tonight," he whispers back subtlely.

"We'll make sure that the reports make it to the mayors," Parison says. He looks around at his companions. A grateful smile crosses the priest's face now that the journey through the wood is nearing an end. "It may be the simplest thing we'll have to do while we're in town. Thank you for your company, Jamal and for bringing us this far."

"It's not Heaven, I'll admit," Parison whispers back to Rumble. "This wood is foreboding, but it's not of wickedness. It feels raw, primative."

Parison tries to do his best at looking out for any possible dangers or hazards along the path the caravan is taking through the forest during the next few days. A sense of foreboding hung heavy over the cleric. The wilderness was unnaturally quiet as if it were holding its breath in anticipation of a moment of surprise or reckoning. He wasn't a woodsman, but Sarenrae's disciple had an uncanny sixth sense when it came to danger and the wilds he and his friends journeyed through exuded menace bordering on supernatural. Keyed up like an over-wound lyre string, Parison was on high alert for any traps or ambush.

Perception + Janus' Aid: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 10 + 2 = 22
Perception + Janus' Aid: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 10 + 2 = 31
Perception + Janus' Aid: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 10 + 2 = 30
Perception + Janus' Aid: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 10 + 2 = 27

Parison's face turns a slight shade of red with embarrassment. "I am an acolyte of Sarenrae, yes," he says to Jamal, trying not to feel like a horse's ass. "My faith is what helps me to aid others in treating ailments and helping them to heal. When it comes to practical application of such treatments, Zithembe is much more skilled in those ways than I am."

"I could ask for the Dawnflower's aid in slowing the poison among the hounds," he says to the others as he removes his healer's kit from his backpack. "But I would need a day to seek her favor in granting such aid and the dogs do not have that much time to wait."

"Blessed goddess, I pray for instinctual guidance in aiding my friend as he attempts to heal these dogs from the toxins that permeate their blood," he murmers as he does his best to aid the shabti and assist his friends.

Aid, Heal + Healer's Kit: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 4 + 2 = 11
Aid, Heal + Healer's Kit: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 2 = 14
Aid, Heal + Healer's Kit: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 4 + 2 = 21
Aid, Heal + Healer's Kit: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 2 = 14

Parison successfully gives Zithembe a +2 bonus to all of his check results.

Parison takes a couple of steps back when the small crocodile begins snapping its jaws before he realizes it must be able to communicate with Janus in its own way.

"I'm glad that you and your companion are on our side," he comments. "He's small, but he still looks dangerous. I would not wish to make him angry."

I was almost thinking that Dis was the City of Brass but then realized that's in the Plane of Fire, not in Hell.

Ladile's Random Observations

So, if you ever get to feeling like it's just a little too easy to sit and write your PbP posts, up the difficulty level and get a cat. Mine likes to indicate he's ready to play by walking up to my chair and making 'Prrt!' noises.

If I ignore him sometimes he'll wander off to amuse himself elsewhere...and sometimes he'll get more insistent and start swatting my legs and nipping my feet.

(I very seldom ignore him.)

Sounds like Dyer has trained you well. :)

There's not much in the way of downtime after the mission beneath Absalom's sewers is completed. While Parison is happy that an alliance was reached with the Sewer Dragons and that no more agents lives would be lost, the means to achieve the end continue to nag at his conscience. The only casualty of the mission was Chief Kibizax. The cleric didn't doubt that Yiddlepole would make a fine chieftain for the Sewer Dragons, but regret at ending her father's live still weighed upon his mind.

Parison and his friends had been forced to protect themselves and kill the old chieftain. Still, each day he wondered how things might have been different had Kibizax been in his right mind and not suffering from mental illness. If he'd had the chance, the disciple of the Dawnflower could have attempted to help him as he'd helped Obahar to regain his sanity. Unlike the div in Merab, Kibizax was not someone beyond redemption but such a transformation would bring no comfort to the families and friends of the Pathfinder agents who'd been slain under orders from the old chieftain. Restitution hadn't exactly been what the group had sought from the Sewer Dragons, but it been given in the form of the kobold's life, a kobold that had went bonkers.

Was the price he paid worth it? Perhaps in had in the eyes of the laws of Absalom. Parison felt that such a price was both lacking in value and hollow in the pursuit of collection.

When the summons had come to travel to Tymon, Parison felt greatful for something to do that would keep him from dwelling on such a moral conundrum. He visited the chapel of the Temple of the Shining Star and communed with his goddess for peace and protection on the journey northward to the River Kingdoms and for the wisdom needed to help guide his actions and those of his companions. He stopped by one of the many marketplaces within the city and purchased a 50-foot length of silken rope.

The journey was uneventful save for the changing from trade ship to riverboat at Cassomir and Parison found himself in the city of Tymon. He produced the summons and followed the directions to reach Smine's Weaponworks and found himself reunited with his companions.

"Where's Effie?" he asked, seeing that the bard was not among them. The news of her sabbatical from the others did nothing to raise his spirits. Things seemed a little harder, a little colder.

The disciple of Sarenrae stays broodingly silent when Holgarin Smine ushers them into his office and briefs them on their newest assignment, though he does take note of the Ulfen and the oddly colored crocodile with a curious interest. He nods affirmatively at Maria when she hands him the scroll box and can't help but give a small smile when Rumble greets Holgarin. The cleric suddenly wondered how long it had been since Rumble had been around other dwarves.

"I'm please to meet you, Janus," Parison says once the briefing is done, offering his hand. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the River Freedoms. May I ask why these freedoms are so important to this area of Avistan? And Holgarin," the cleric continues. "Is there anything more about this tower that we should know about? And this man Jamel...is he trustworthy?"

Forgo your Downtime and succeed at a Diplomacy, Knowledge (Local) or Perform (oratory) check with a DC of 15 + your character level to organize a charity event. Alternately, donate resources worth 100 gp per character level to charity.

I would like to donate resources, so you may deduct 300 gp from what I earned for this chronicle. Doing this will also give me this reward on my Season 9 Silver Crusade Card.

PURIFIER (2+ goals): When attempting a caster level check to remove a curse, disease, or other condition, increase your effective caster level by half the number of goals you have completed (rounded down). You can also apply this benefit when others attempt caster level checks to remove such conditions from you.

Within the crate of artifacts, Parison discovers a holy symbol of Sarenrae made of purest gold. After doing some checking and discovering that while antiquated, it is neither non-magical nor does it have any historical or archaeological value outside of the materials from which it was made.

Parison will take a gold holy symbol of Sarenrae for his chronicle item.

"It was not our wish to do this to Chief Kibizax," Parison says for effect as he moves in Rumble's direction. "But he gave us no choice. In his final bow, he proved to be both a crafty and challenging combatant worthy of his title."

When he steps beside his battle buddy and catches his words, Parison replies in a whisper of his own. "This is who Maria and I talked to at the theater in Absalom. We should be safe if we play along, and if we're not, we do have her brother as a bargaining chip."

Parison then turns around, speaking more for the audience of kobolds than to anyone else. "Chief Yiddlepole," the cleric calls out. "We came here to parlay on behalf of the Pathfinder Society. None of us here desire further bloodshed. If we surrender to you, will you hear what we have to say and then allow us to leave your domain in peace if we can offer suitable tribute?"

I do a little VTT Parison. I think if you're on CST then you're 8 hours behind me. But it's a struggle to find the 4-5 hours at a time I need for a VTT game right now, I'm primary carer for a toddler with additional medical needs. I manage it maybe once every other month, with my old UK lodge having moved online. That's a Sunday afternoon and the inlaws can babysit.

Fitting in PbP posts is much easier :)

Understandable, Effie. Real life comes first and I'm glad you're able to do PbP if anything when it comes to Pathfinder or Starfinder. Normally, I'd run VTT during evening hours my time, but that's when most folks across the pond are usually sleeping. Also, some folks in the lodge have started a home campaign of Tyrant's Grasp on Monday nights and I'm playing in that. With Sundays, I have church in the morning and then Organized Play scenarios/dinner gatherings with the local lodge in the afternoon and evening, so Monday afternoons are about the one block of free time that I have for VTT, running or playing.

Still trying to make sure he keeps as many items as he can between himself and Kibizax, Parison reaches the end of the theatre seats. He drops down into the orchestra pit and circles right around the grand piano and then climbs up onto the stage.

Hearing the kobold's words while he's moving, the cleric is feeling winded after climbing over the rows of seats and the stage front.

"He's persistent. I'll give him that," Parison says with hitched breath in a tone of both frustration and respect.

Once more, Parison double moves to where he is on the stage.

Being ever so cautious, Parison moves as quickly as he can. After seeing the bolt emanate from the cloud, but luckily missing Zithembe, he elects to stay within the cover of the theater seats.

"Tenacious cuss, isn't he?"

Parison double moves to where he's currently at on the map.

With only a few minor wounds, Parison slowly begins making his way through the seats, trying to spread out from the others in case the wily kobold has any more nasty surprises he could hit everyone with at once.

Trying to think of something to do, Parison thinks back on what spells he has prepared for the day that could either help pin down where Kibizax is or disperse the vapors on the stage.

Nothing.

If only there was a way to narrow down where he could be,]the cleric thinks. An idea comes to his mind, an unorthodox one as well as ridiculous, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Hey, Effie," Parison calls out, hoping that perhaps she might pick up on what he's doing and run with it. "Why do you think Kibizax is so angry?" He pauses for a couple of seconds to let the question drift over the theatre before answering himself, deadpan. "It's all the rage."

Diplomacy (Make Kibizax laugh in order to give himself away): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

Parison moves 30 ft.

Hey folks! In case you've yet to see it, the official announcement for Gameday IX is here! GM some games or wait with bated breath for player sign-ups to open! Or both! :D

They're going to be running The Sky Key Solution multi-table special this year! I'm probably going to sign up and play that with Rhys, my 5th level bard if I sign up for anything.

Also, there's something I want to let you guys know about that I'm doing.

With Covid-19 forcing a lot of Organized Play to move online until things return to a degree of normalcy, I thought I'd maybe have a chance to play more scenarios. My work schedule is usually Tuesday-Saturdays and I work 2nd shift on top of that so I don't get to play a lot with the exception of Sundays at my home lodge, but I have been willing to take time off and travel as far as 250 miles from home on rare occasions to play that are not cons (usually its to either check out a new lodge and meet new people and/or play in a multi-table special, which I've done the latter three times). I do enjoy PbP, but I like having just our game here and a D&D 5E module I'm playing on the Paizo forums to keep up with along with the occasional scenario to play every now and then in terms of keeping a healthy PbP balance.

But with online games, I discovered that a lot of the online game schedules mirrored the same times I would see before Covid-19 shook things up and that there were very few games across both editions of Pathfinder and Starfinder that were available on Mondays to play, and usually those games were late times. As I thought about this, I started to think that I couldn't be the only person who had the same kind of work schedule that kept me from being able to play more.

Earlier this week, I talked with Amber, the VL for our local lodge about something I wanted to do. I asked her if she would schedule #0-01: Silent Tide for online play on our lodge Warhorn page for a 12PM CST start this coming Monday and that I would advertise it on the Org Play Server for Discord. I wanted to see if there was interest out there for the first 1E OP scenario and 1E scenarios in general and if there were others who could play around that time, would be a decent time here in America and evening/night time for people across the Atlantic in Europe.

The plan was to see if people would sign up to play. If I didn't have the sign-ups, I'd try again and offer to GM a 2E scenario. However, the table filled up within a day and a half of my posting it on the Org Play Server. We might have a person or two to drop before then, but I'm thrilled at the response I've gotten. It's also given me the motivation to want to GM the Season 0 scenarios on most Mondays going forward and I wanted to let you guys know about this because (I think I have this right) three of you are currently on the other side of the pond and if you do VTT, it might be something you'd want to do especially if there are some scenarios you haven't played from that inaugural season.

I've GMed Silent Tide once before person-to-person and I've played it, but it's been awhile since I ran it and it's the first time I've ran a full scenario online via Roll20 and Discord, so I'm going to be learning as well as running and I'm sure there's going to be some glitches and hiccups on Monday, but I'm excited to get to GM for the first time since earlier this year.

Ok, that's it from me. Now how do I turn this thing off?

Parison nods at Maria's words as she passes him by. He takes a couple of steps forward, but refrains from drawing a weapon since it would be of no use against a kobold chieftain he can't see nor discern Kibizax's last position.

Very wary of what their wily foe can do and worried that he may have more lightning bolts or other nasty surprises to throw at them, he calls upon Sarenrae once more. "Dawnflower, please continue to aid me with your healing touch," he requests. Parison feels her healing presence build up within him once more and he releases it again, trying to repair the more serious wounds to his body and to make Rumble hale and hearty again.

Parison will Channel Energy once more, hoping that Kibizax hasn't somehow managed to get behind him This time, he doesn't get the benefit of Zithembe's bonus to heal since he's out of range.

Channel Energy: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 6) + 1 = 12

I forgot too, Hep. Make that 11 hit points restored off Parison's Channel Energy.

Parison staggers and it takes all of his willpower not to surrender to the welcoming arms of unconsciousness and possibly death. Every part of him feels as if he is burning up on the inside as all of the nerves in his body begin to pulse and twitch uncontrollably.

"Sarenrae," he gasps out, incredulous that he could live despite so much agony coursing through his form. The cleric sways on his feet, feeling the pain start to fade away to numbness. This is what it is like to die, he thinks as his knees start to buckle under him.

Suddenly, he feels a presence, warm and glowing envelop him as the throne room vanishes and with it, his friends, Kibizax and the dragon. A soothing, yet wonderful and comforting calm whose touch was like water to a fevered man, a mother's protective embrace of her child. She was here. He was with his goddess.

A guiding force took hold of him, like a parent holding the arms of their child as they take their first steps. As the pain and awareness of where he was begin to return, he pushed through the motion and spoke the necessary prayer.

"Please bestow your healing touch on me and my friends, my goddess," he implored, letting that presence flow through him and out of him.

Channel Energy: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 3) + 1 = 9

Parison deselects the dragon when he channels.

I'll try to channel next round, then. Hopefully, neither of us will have to use it, but let's see how this plays out before we have to make that choice.

Reflex DC17: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Reroll + GM Star (Reflex DC 17): 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 2 + 1 = 7

Parison is unconscious with 0 hit points, but he isn't bleeding out.

Ok, so everyone is covered. Sorry for the confusion. Played my 2E cleric and used the same spell only to realize how much it's been nerfed for 2E where it's only 5-foot unless you use an action to expand it every round after it's cast. Guess that got into my head a little bit.

"It's not like we're going to be able to negotiate further," Parison says sadly as he moves into the room. "The chief's crazy."

Parison begins to pray. "Goddess, please bestow your blessing upon me and my friends," he asks of Sarenrae.

Parison moves into the room and casts Bless. Everyone but Effie will get +1 to their attack rolls and saves vs. fear effects.

"Your people fired upon us first without giving such a warning," Parison responds. "We only acted to defend ourselves and even then, we tended to the injuries they sustained. The same with your son. He threatened to kill us, but unlike the other Pathfinder Society agents your tribe has killed, we showed your subjects mercy. They are all alive, including your son, and all are physically healthy and hearty."

While Parison speaks, only the presence of the blue dragon prevents him from stepping forward. "We do not have abundant riches to give you, but the Society offers you not only a chance for you and your subjects to prosper from a mutual alliance, but we will fight with you against any rival kobold tribes as well as other enemies who would seek to wage war against the Sewer Dragons and we could work to ensure that you and your subjected will not be bothered by those who live above you in Absalom. All that we ask is to be able to move things through your territory should the need arise. We might be able to arrange it that in return, the Society would be able to give you the things you ask of us now in return for mutual protection for both sides."

As Parison speaks, he watches the chief's body language and facial expressions, trying to get a gauge on whether or not Kibizax is going to be receptive of such an alliance.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

"Do not harm him," Parison says to the others, remembering Yiddlepole's request. Yippotok's words have raised the priest's eyebrows as he becomes concerned that the group could inadvertently spill the beans about the negotiations he and Maria made with Yiddlepole. "Let's put him with the other kobolds and then meet with the chief. If we can negotiate an alliance, we'll let them go and give them back their belongings."

"And if we can't reach an agreement," the cleric says, looking as if he'd just taken a huge drink of spoiled vinegar and sounding just as bitter for having spoke it, "we have a bargaining chip for our own safety."

Parison moves to the entangled and immobile kobold and assists Zithembe in disarming Yippotok. "It's times like this I wish I carried a rope," the cleric remarks.

Aid Another:Disarm: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

"Be wary," Parison says as he and the others approach Yippotok as fast as they can. "He will only remain that way for seconds at most and if he concentrates hard enough, he can break free. Subdue him and remove any items he has on his person."

Yippotok gets to roll a Will save each round on his turn to break free of the spell until he succeeds or three rounds passes, whichever comes first.

"I just found Yippitok!" Parison calls out to the others. As he moves to allow room for the others to get in, he quickly notices how tight the aisles on the first floor are.

We go from a narrow sewer corridor to an even narrower room corridor, he thinks. What was that saying about frying pans and fires?

"Sarenrae, please keep this kobold from hurting me or my friends," he prays, beseeching his goddess to intervene in keeping Yippotok from acting.

Parison moves 10 feet into the room and casts Hold Person on Yippotok. DC 16 Will save or be paralyzed for 3 rounds.

Parison doesn't say anything. He's been with his companions long enough to trust their instincts if they feel something is wrong or if something bad is about to happen. And to hear Rumble yell when it's not a battle cry to Torag or to intimidate foes tells the Sarenrite priest that something is terribly wrong.

When Rumble gives the order to back up, the cleric doesn't hesitate. He begins to backpedal in a hurry just as Maria calls out the location of a secret door. Looking at where she is pointing, Parison moves to it and attempts to open it.

"I'm going to go through!" he says to Maria as he tries to gain access to the room beyond.

I can't see it on the map, but Parison is going to attempt to go through the door if it can be physically pushed open. If he can't, he'll try to go back the way the group came to get around a corner and out of the hallway. You have my blessing to move my token if you have to, since I can't see where to go in terms of the secret door.

"After everything we've been through since venturing down here in the sewers," Parison says as the group make their way deeper into the kobolds territory. "Underestimating what these kobolds can do would be at our own peril. Be careful, everyone, and be wary."

I'm good with whatever everyone else wants to play. Doesn't make a difference what scenario we do.