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"When you meet with these guys and get them talking, try to get them to spill the details of their contract with the Redshields. I don't know about you, but I'm curious why a bunch of merchants would be interested in killing dragons that aren't even in their trade territory. I think the key detail will be how the Redshields are stipulating the division of the dragons' treasure once the job is done."
Sapphira waylays you before you can speak with the purported dragon hunters for yourselves. "They don't know how to keep a secret worth a damn, that's for sure," Sapphira tells you in private. "They're dragon hunters, by their own admission. Not even freelance, either. After a couple rounds of free drinks, I even got them to reveal that they're in the employ of the Redshields. They've been contracted by the merchant house to hunt down and kill any dragons they find in the area. "I haven't gotten them to spill the details of their contract yet, or if there are particular dragon sightings they are pursuing. I've already gotten their tongues loosened. You might be able to get them to keep talking, especially if they feel like big shots who've earned the attention of the local lord."
"Conquering Galt is one thing. From what I've heard, the place was a wretched mess with no standing army to speak of," Sapphira chimes in. "The River Kingdoms, on the other hand, is a hornets' nest waiting to be shaken. If the warlords and other powers in the region learn that Taldor might be invading, you'll suddenly see the River Kingdoms unified in purpose like never before. "It especially helps that the entire width and breadth of the Kingdoms already sits between us and Taldor's armies like a buffer zone."
"I have been prying information out of the princess and her friend, slowly but surely. That Lotheed woman is quite paranoid and vigilant, so it has been hard to make inroads. "So far, I have learned that Grand Prince Pythareus, the military commander who has maneuvered his way onto the throne, has halted his armies' advances now that they have secured Galt. Undoubtedly, he wants to shore up their supply lines in the newly conquered territory before advancing further. "I also managed to get our exiled noblewomen to share that Pythareus will probably want a few weeks to tour Taldor as a victorious hero, having reclaimed one of their empire's lost holdings. Besides stoking his ego, the noblewomen also suspect he will use this to bolster national pride and drive up recruitment for the army, since holding Galt and moving onto the River Kingdoms will take significant manpower."
"I've also heard about more sightings in the swamps to the south from the local hunters, coming in to drink away their wages. Rather than trolls, it sounds like there's definitely a tribe of lizardfolk dwelling around one of the rivers or lakes. Best case scenario, they might be a good buffer or sentry against any Taldan incursions northward. Worst case scenario, they've already clashed with the Whitehollows and might be hostile towards outsiders. "If you don't have any other priorities, you might want to track them down and settle the situation."
I would like to have all intelligence we have on this house confirmed. I need to know the facts before we judge them. If slavery is how they earn their coins, then there will be no home for them here. When word spreads to all corners of the river kingdoms, there will be no home for them anywhere around here as well. "Don't need to tell me twice," Sapphira says proudly. "Finding ways to foil these businessmen could be very profitable. Now, I know what you all are probably thinking about the money they've made from their schemes - I think the term is 'ill-gotten gains' - and how it might be somehow tainted by their deeds, but the right thing to do is to reclaim the money and put it to good use. Countering the bad they've done by doing some good, right?"
"I'll also keep all my eyes and ears open for any lingering activity by Lamashtu worshipers in the region. They creep me out. My mother once told me about a cousin of ours who set herself up as some sort of idol or queen for a group of Lamashtan. It didn't end well for anyone." Beneath her hooded cloak, your medusa enforcer gives an involuntary shudder, reflecting upon the story.
"Materialistic is one word for them," Sapphira replies to Bydar's contribution about the Redshields. "They do business in a lot of the shady goods that you'd expect to be flowing in and out of the River Kingdoms - poisons, pesh, weapons, and so on. "However, their biggest and most profitable trade seems to be in bodies." Sapphira explains that the Redshields seem to be involved in slaving operations running through Numeria, Razmiran, Molthune, and parts of Brevoy - although they like to label it as 'indentured servitude' to maintain a facade of geniality. "In regards to their work with the Technic League, they're definitely also using this trade route to export - or smuggle - star metal and strange technology out of Numeria. I don't know what they might be exporting out of Razmiran. I've also heard rumors that they're mainly importing food, weapons, and other supplies to the crusaders in Mendev as a cover for exporting something from the Worldwound. I really don't want to think about what that could possibly be. "In short, the Redshields will delve into any business that will reap huge profits. I can't even figure out what they're doing with all this money. They're hoarding it like a bunch of damn dragons."
"I've been tapping those noblewomen for information," Sapphira informs Lord Christian and company upon their next meeting. "They've pretty much been debating whether or not they have any chance at retaking the Taldan throne. Frankly, it seems like quite the longshot to me. For now, they're trying to decide whether Charis is a safe long-term base of operations for them. The exiled princess of Taldor could be a very powerful political ally; granted, she'd also be a very dangerous one. I can try to persuade them to stay or leave at your discretion." Sapphira reports that she has also done some digging into the Redshield merchant house, since they have been of interest to you. "They don't have the reach or power of the Aspis Consortium, but they've quickly built up a lot of wealth and influence in just a couple decades," she begins. "They fill in the gaps between each of Brevoy's great houses, acting as middle men since the nobles usually can't play nicely with each other. They've also taken stakes in the houses' businesses in lieu of payment, especially in their early years. Now they've extended their range into Numeria, the River Kingdoms, Razmiran, and Mendev. They pulled out from Galt right before the Taldan invasion, so I think someone tipped them off. "All in all, they're pretty good at maintaining a reputable front to disguise where they're really making their money."
"Ooo, I'm going to have fun with these two," Sapphira coos. She rises to go introduce herself to the noblewomen and learn about them, but she pauses and tarries to mention one last piece of information.
"While on the subject of dragons, I also heard another interesting account. A gang of bandits, apparently made up of Galtans driven north by the Taldan invasion, attempted to set up shop south of the Kamelands, past the rivers feeding into the Candlemere. "I say attempted because they were massacred before they could cause any damage - massacred by a dragon with coppery scales," she says, sounding amused. "While one dragon has decided to court Lord Christian, it seems the other has decided to become a vigilante and police our borders."
Sapphira sighs when she sees you enter her inn soon after the Taldan noblewomen. "As soon as I saw them, I was looking forward to questioning those two newcomers," your medusa spymaster says after joining you at a table, nodding towards the exiled princess. "Obviously I'll give you priority, but I hope we can finish this before the birdman jumps on the chance to chat up those noblewomen before I can." She spots the bottle of wine you carry. "The hunter woman found you quickly? Good." You can practically hear her smiling under her hood. "I've been laughing about this off and on all day. I've had to step into the back just to keep from making a foolish spectacle of myself. "The one who dropped off that bottle - your 'secret admirer' - she took the form of a tall, muscular Ulfen or Iobarian woman. Sandy hair. Small but sharp nose. Now, I say she took this form because I know it was all an illusion. She wasn't fooling me with her disguise. "That copper dragon you helped seems to have developed a fondness for our lordship," she nods at Christian, her cutting smile finally peeking out from beneath her heavy hood.
"Of the three spies we intercepted, one was from Pitax, one was from Daggermark, and the third...we couldn't actually get anything from him. The others either carried evidence that betrayed them or we got them to let slip their allegiances. The third man was actually halfway decent at his job. If I had to guess, I'd say he was from Mivon. But like I said, it's just a guess." When you mention your latest encounter with Lamashtan cultists, your enforcer generates a sound akin to a sigh and a growl blended together. "I actually naively hoped we were done with those wanks," she says, exasperated by their continued nuisance. "While you were gone, I also pursued all the leads we gathered about Delphine, that woman who tried to recruit me in Pitax for some Lamashtan coven. After speaking with or observing just about everyone woman who's come to town, I can say with certainty that she is not here now. "If there are multiple Lamasthan cells active in the region, she may be a link between them, acting as a recruiter." She accepts the proffered hairs, agreeing to do what she can with them to learn about the enemy. Lord Christian: When you ask her about her happiness, the medusa groans again.
"Ugh, I hate philosophical questions like that. I got plenty of those from talking with that Vudran priestess." Despite her objection, she actually seems to sincerely contemplate the question. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am happy," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice, as though she wasn't expecting the answer herself. "My old measure used to be just whether or not I was still alive. Hells, death certainly found enough of my sisters. That's why I didn't want to follow their path, all claws and hissing and running afoul of monster hunters and the like. "Incidentally, that's also why I didn't take up with Delphine and her Lamashtans, if that's what you're concerned about. Even if she didn't creep me out, I knew that if I threw my lot in with them, I'd meet my end by either some adventurer's sword or upon their own sacrificial altar. "I've got a business, I've got some money, I've got a position of power...I've got a pet bird," she adds with a teasing tone, craning her neck to look around for Mr. Pink. "I guess I got what I wanted, after all," she says, allowing herself to sound wistful. "Although I don't think I need to be 'cured.' I'm not some boil that needs to be lanced. I like having my special defense, like a favorite dagger hidden under a garter. "Maybe some sort of enchanted lenses or goggles? I could keep them on when I need to look someone in the eye without it being the final time. That could be a fair compromise."
Bydar:
The Lotheeds are a family of minor Taldane nobility. They are most notable for holding the County of Meratt in northwestern Taldor. Syretia:
The Lotheeds are Taldane nobility with their highest ranking member being Count Bartleby Lotheed, who governs the County of Meratt from the town of Lotheedar in northwestern Taldor. The family is known for producing more than a few prodigies in magic and alchemy.
Martella is a black sheep of the family, being the half-Qadiran offspring of an affair by the late Count Mercater Lotheed.
"I had shortstack and the birdman collect the accounts and report them to me," Sapphira announces when Syretia inquires about the creatures sighted to the south. "The descriptions don't match up. It sounds like some of them have been seeing trolls, while others sound like they're describing lizardfolk. Given where these sightings have been coming from, either one is plausible. Hells, I might even wager than both are correct."
"They described a giant rock shaped like an elk by way of landmark, so they probably meant that temple of Erastil," Sapphira clarifies. "If the temple is actually further to the north, then it's little surprise these sots couldn't find it. "They didn't know exactly what kind of work was being offered. They speculated that it might be moving some kind of contraband. I suspect their information was second or third hand at best, so the details are well muddled."
"I've had Mr. Pink and my new...marmalade suppliers keeping their eyes open to spot what I might miss, rare though that may be," Sapphira reports. "So far, the Whitehollows have not been brazen enough to come into town after their last encounter with me. "However, I have overheard from some of the woodcutters and trappers that visit my establishment, especially after they've had a few too many, speak about someone offering work at a hidden temple in the forest to the west. And to think, some of our customers accuse us of watering down the drinks. We don't water down the drinks. Not if we want information from you," she adds with a smile that creeps out from beneath her hood.
Sapphira looks over the notes proffered by Syretia. She scans over them for only a few moments before, with a groan, she asks, "What in the Pit am I looking at?" She listens to the sorceress' explication, her exasperation slowly metamorphosing into curiosity tempered by confusion. "Why would I want to strip myself of my greatest defense?" she muses with a wave of her hand. "Even if this is only made available to my closest allies - which, I suppose, would be you and the rest of the dragon lord's coterie - where is the benefit? I get to show off my comely eyes?" ... Sapphira throws up her hands and quickly dons her hood with a groan when Booker next enters. "What's the point in having the birdman as a face if everyone's just going to barge into my room anyhow?" The medusa's sarcasm melts away when Booker presents the silvery prize. Even though her eyes are hidden by her hood, Booker can plainly tell how intently she is assessing the Desnan icon. "Yes, this will do nicely. When can your proliferate kin make their first delivery?" ...
Lord Christian's rhetoric is staunchly backed by the party's deeds, and a touch of divine blessing. The grumbling quiets, the bitter fires of vengeance are squelched, and the survivors of Nivakta's Crossing are entirely mollified. They accept the wisdom of sparing the dragon, the beneficence of guiding him to the path of redemption, and the sheer practicality of having an indebted dragon as an ally. In fact, in the coming days, Sapphira makes you aware of a new thread of gossip weaving its way through Charis. "You should know," she says, struggling to suppress her laughter as she explains the situation to the party, "people have begun to say that if Lord Christian is not Choral the Conqueror reborn, he's at least outdone him by keeping three dragons on leashes rather than simply two."
"I think I caught one of those Taldan rivals of yours - what was their name, again? Oh, yes. Whitehollow - trying to blend in and gather information," Sapphira tells Brandt, pouring him a drink at her bar. "I could've put a crossbow bolt in his back, but I figured you'd want him alive. Unfortunately, when I approached him, he ran like a frightened rabbit. Again, I could've stopped him like, ahem, a stone, but I did not want to cause a...commotion in the middle of the village. "I'd suggest staying alert. I imagine the Taldan party will be trying subtle methods to undermine your authority." ..... Lord Christian is soon approached by Abbot Kara Ilarenika. The Pharasmin priestess is accompanied by a small crowd of her fellow survivors of Nivakta's Crossing. They eagerly await the announcement that the dragon whose rampage decimated their lives has been slain. This encounter leaves you relieved that Apothyl opted to part ways with you, at least for now, several miles before reaching Charis.
"I've heard the name 'Nettles' mentioned more than once around the tables in my establishment, so I made a point of investigating," Sapphira offers. "Davik Nettles. He was an engineer who retired from Brevoy and built a bridge across a narrow span of the Shrike. Apparently, he made a handsome living charging tolls to cross the bridge - at least until the bandits who previously dominated this area paid him a visit. I've been told that the bandits killed him, burned his house down, and tossed his body in the river. "It seems there used to be numerous sightings of Nettle's undead remains patrolling the river and guarding his bridge. However, ever since the bandits were put down, those sightings have tailed off. I suspect that with his killers slain, his bones now rest. Of course, I can't promise that he won't make an appearance if you cross his bridge."
As you make your preparations, you are approached by your enforcer. "Evidently I now serve as your postmaster, as well, for this message arrived for you," she says, offering a folded piece of parchment. Once someone accepts the letter, she adds, "This was also left with it." Sapphira holds up a single, roughly diamond-shaped scale. It is a dull copper color, the size of your palm. "I continue to dislike how your new friend is able to slip past me. She's making me look incompetent at my job," Sapphira glowers. The Letter: Friends,
I've observed that you are making preparations to set out. Your timing is fortuitous. I've seen Mercifax fly back towards his lair in the mountains. Despite how he's tarnished, his behaviors remain familiar to me. From his flight posture, I recognize that he returns home to sulk. There he will likely remain for several days. There are two route towards his lair. One approaches from the east, from the direction of the Dunsward. This route is safer, but it will take you some time to arrive. In the meantime, he may depart or, worse still, notice your approach. The other is by way of Lake Silverstep. While this is a more direct route, it is much more dangerous. I will meet you soon, once you depart your village, and provide more information.
Sapphira listens to Booker's sales pitch as impassively as a statue. His offer of bringing back something from the party's travels, however, elicits a pleased smile upon the visible portion of her face. "You see, this is why I always thought my sisters and foremothers were foolish," she muses. "Why antagonize the adventurers, explorers, and would-be heroes when you can befriend them and earn your heart's desire that way?" She draws the proffered jar of marmalade closer and signals to Mr. Pink to bring some bread. "Since it seems our boss, Lord Christian, will soon be leading you and the rest of our mutual friends in a bit of dragonslaying, it's safe to assume that a literal hoard of wealth will likely be passing into our humble home here. Now, I wouldn't dream of expecting to have first pick of the spoils," she quips whilst spreading some marmalade upon a slice of rye. "Even though we are very much on the frontier, I still pride myself on being a woman of culture and taste. If there is a piece of clothing or jewelry among the dragon's hoard that particularly stands out, I would ask you to bring it back for me."
At dinner, held privately within the temporarily closed Scale and Feather, Sapphira reiterates what she told Syretia and Bydar when they visited earlier. "I was deeply unnerved when she quietly announced her identity and asked for her egg," Sapphira says about Apothyl. "I couldn't tell she was anything unusual when she walked in. I don't like being taken by surprise like that. "She explained the situation, but I didn't truly believe her until she provided some details that I knew could only have come from you. I swaddled the egg in a cloak one of the hunters left behind, and when I offered it to her, she snatched it and ran like an urchin stealing a loaf of bread. "Everything else has been painfully dull in your absence, otherwise. The arrival of those peasants from Nivakta's Crossing was the only other highlight, which is even more depressing now that I say it out loud. "Regarding that Temple of the Elk though...I've been questioning quite a few of the woodsmen who ply the Narlmarches. They say that a priest of Erastil by the name of Kavken has been tending it, restoring it. Without actually meeting him, I'd consider him highly suspect."
"Shall I have the birdman pour you a drink?" the hooded medusa asks any of the party who visit her at the Scale and Feather. "I know I sure needed one after your new friend stopped by to pick up her egg. "And before you ask: no, she's not still around. She scarcely spared ten minutes for the exchange before running off. I guess her human guise wasn't going to last long and she didn't want to cause a panic. Of course, she promised she would be watching and ready to help when you need her. I suppose I'm awfully paranoid to find the thought less than comforting." Brandt: You find Lira at a makeshift archery range, located a few hundred yards to the west of the inn, though well within sight of the huddle of buildings that make up your village. She is alone when you come upon her, trying to improve her skill as a hunter and guard.
"I'd forgotten just how dull the frontier can be," she says before you can get out a single word. "Even when some of the trappers and hunters got into moonshine-fueled arguments, they managed to make it uninteresting. I should've gone along with you and the lord, if only to catch a glimpse of the dragon I've been hearing about." Thus, she invites your explanation of the situation to the north. As she listens, though, her mood sours. "I take it back. I'm glad I didn't see the beast. Did it really rip the roofs clear off the houses?" She pauses and looks at the bow in her hands with uncertainty. "I'm guessing a simple thing like this wouldn't do a thing against such a menace?"
"Don't worry about me. I'm no victim," Sapphira replies to Brandt, although she does not sound insulted at all. "Deal with them as you will. The fate visited upon them won't hold back my ambitions." Sapphira heaves a sigh and pauses, her posture straightening as she seems clearly pleased with herself. "Anyway, I can also have Mr. Pink keep tabs on the people passing through the inn. Much to my surprise, he's a big draw. Locals and travelers alike seem keen to gawk at the 'big walking bird.' He's a good pair of eyes and ears, even if he's only one man." Brandt: Your domain remains small, with less than a thousand people inhabiting the entire barony so far. This spares you a hindrance in your present endeavor: there simply aren't that many people on the outskirts to observe. Under the long summer dusk, most of the people you see are hunters and trappers returning to town, or farmsteaders leading their animals in from the fields.
Everyone seems busy with their honest work, and you can't pick out signs of any suspicious behavior among them. If the cultists are lurking near your new home, they are not out tonight.
"I encountered Delphine in Pitax," Sapphira explains, putting venom upon both names. "I traveled to that wretched city when I first left home after resolving to find a company of explorers or adventurers to ally myself with. It was my misfortune to instead encounter that woman." The medusa pauses to remember the meeting. "In hindsight, I'm quite positive that she was also just a visitor to Pitax. I don't know where her true home might be, but if she's also been spotted in this region, it suggests a range of her operations. If I had to hazard a guess, she probably hails from one of the larger towns or cities in Brevoy."
Sapphira cycles through a range of emotions, albeit obscured by her hood and the dim light of the cellar, as she listens to Lord Christian's accounting of the past couple of days' events. "You act as though these kobolds mark the first time you've taken a gamble upon someone whom many might try to kill on sight," she quips with a wry smile. "Of course, they can't possible match me for style and skill, but hopefully they will prove useful allies, nonetheless." An awed quiet comes upon her, even if just for a few moments, when she is presented with the dragon egg. "Amazing," she breathes, clearly awed by the living treasure. "I can't even begin to estimate how much something like this could be worth. I'm not suggesting we sell it, so spare me your dirty looks. I mean that something like this could earn the favor of a powerful dragon - or at least spare us one's wrath. It's little surprise that you would want to keep it safe." Talk of the cultists elicits a shudder from your enforcer and spy. "When I came to the Stolen Lands, before I encountered Master Narthropple's party, there was a woman who tried to recruit me. Even before I saw that she wore the symbol of Lamasthu, there was much about her character that unnerved me. I'm no saint, but I'm no dunce, either. I knew better than to cast my lot in with her. Even if some bounty hunter or knight errant didn't come to slay the lot of us, I wouldn't trust her not to bleed me for her goddess." Another shudder wracks the medusa. "I don't know where she lurks or what company she keeps, but I can give you the name that she gave me: Delphine."
Brandt's mention of "talk behind closed doors" immediately seizes Sapphira's interest. She invites the party through the inn's backdoor, into the kitchen, and towards a hatch leading into a cellar. Much noise and merriment can be heard from the front room. "We're already quite popular with the local hunters and trappers," she explains, holding the hatch open with one hand and aiming her other hand's thumb towards the front. "I wasn't expecting to be accepting so many hides, pelts, and other animal bits as payment, but here we are." A newly hewn wooden ladder descends into the cellar, which still smells heavily of freshly dug earth. It remains half bare, containing only a small number of casks and crates. A single door bearing a sturdy iron lock sits in a niche against one wall. "Is this private enough? I could invite you into my room over there," she says, gesturing towards the locked door, "but it is rather small." She lifts a round wooden board that hitherto leaned against the earthen walls.
"It's all still very rustic and small, but it's a start."
Just before dawn, you break camp and part ways with the kobolds, who return into their home before the morning sun burns their eyes. You return home with your newfound precious cargo. After several hours of travel, you return by early afternoon. As if by serendipity, you find hooded Sapphira waiting for you, standing beside the inn on the northern edge of your small settlement. "Welcome back. How did it go?" she asks, eager to keep abreast of any new information in the area.
Syretia:
"My first contender for a name is 'The Scale and Feather,' using a feather weighed upon a set of scales as its emblem," Sapphira explains. "I have also been considering the admittedly less inspired 'Sapphire and Onyx.'"
She leans back in her chair, resting her chin upon her chest as she thinks. "Hmm, what else...I've also considered The Bottomless Well, The Cloak and Stagger, The Crow Bar," she punctuates this last one with a pause and unseen look that emphasizes how tongue-in-cheek it is. "I also came up with far too long of a list of names that are nothing but off-color innuendos."
Syretia: ”Oh, I wasn’t planning on being out here serving meals and pouring drinks,” Sapphira laughs. ”In fact, I was seriously considering recruiting your avian companion to be the ‘face’ of this establishment. He has the better blend of exoticism and...approachability. I would be more of a ‘silent partner,’ shall we say. I am much better at bookkeeping and negotiations, after all.”
Syretia: The inn is entirely yours. Though Cavan's commendable work stands complete, the inn is presently bereft of a keeper or even a name. Of course, that means there are no distractions or interruptions as you spread your books and papers across the table.
Or at least you expected no interruptions. Your solitude is broken when a cloaked figure, the hood drawn almost completely over their face, sits at your table without announcement or invitation. It takes a moment of puzzlement before you realize that it's Sapphira. "If you enjoy solitude, you may need to find a new refuge sooner rather than later," she says. "Unless you want a very unproductive inn. On that subject, I wanted to make a proposal." The medusa, already tapped to serve the barony as a sort of enforcer, folds her hands and leans forward. Although she disturbs your carefully arranged piles of documents in the process, she presents quite the figure of a merchant making a business pitch. "In lieu of installing any old body as innkeeper, or worse, recruiting someone unknown from the city, might I offer my services?" You can see Sapphira's predatory smile beneath the hem of her hood, and even without seeing her eyes, you can almost hear her wink. "I can guarantee that no troublemakers will be countenanced, so you don't need to worry about brawls spilling out into the street - once we have streets. Furthermore, this way I can assess visitors and newcomers as they arrive and gauge what sort of danger they may pose to your rule. If it sways your decision, I'll even let you and your companions have first go at naming the place, although I did have some ideas that were quite inspired, if I do say so myself. "So what do you say? Can I count on a charter from the lords and lady of Charis?"
"You assume correctly," she jauntily replies to Bydar. "Even if you swore that there was another hidden treasure room down there, I could not be convinced to return. I am satisfied with what I've come away with, and I happily leave the rest to you." Sapphira's lips briefly quiver as a thought crosses her mind, likely wondering if there could be another treasure room and potentially reconsidering her refusal. She does not revisit the issue, so presumably she reaffirms her decision. "If it's any comfort, I didn't encounter any other creatures down there besides those horned beasts," she continues. "I can't imagine any ancient traps remain down there, or else the brutes would have blundered into them long ago. And I question whether they even had enough brain behind that singular eye to concoct their own traps."
"Don't forget, you also have this stronghold here," Sapphira says, raising her arms to gesture towards the ancient stone walls. "When you eventually build some kind of fortress or castle on these foundations - and you'd be foolish not to - you can give it whatever name you'd like. I think a powerful name like Castle Tilekdivyth has a certain charm." She shoots a disarming smile towards Bydar.
Mr. Pink: Sweeping the perimeter with your keen avian eyes, you notice that the two of you sit at the edge of the camp. Perhaps expecting a private conversation - or, at worst, a confrontation - she led you to an out-of-the-way place where you wouldn't be interrupted.
A pleased smile cuts across her obscured face. "That rule is quite to my liking. If the two of us are to protect this place from behind the curtains, then I believe this will be a very promising land, indeed."
Mr. Pink: "I know you're behind me," the cloaked medusa calls. She turns to face the tengu following her. "If it's any consolation, you might have fared better out in the wild, rather than this crowded camp." She listens to Mr. Pink's explanation, then softly shakes her shrouded head. "To be honest, I only understood about half of what you said," she sighs. "I'd expected at least one of you to remain highly suspicious of me. It's disheartening, but I also can't say that I'm at all surprised." She pauses near an unattended barrel, deftly hoisting herself up and taking a seat. "We're both rare birds," she says, her own pun eliciting a wry smirk just below the hem of her hood. "But only one of us has a reputation that follows them like a shadow. "I'm not a good person. I won't pretend to be. Of course, I'm not a monster, either," she emphasizes her point with a raised, ring-bedecked finger. "I want to learn from the mistakes of my foremothers. If playing nice and helping the adventurers is my best chance to survive, then so be it. As long as I can carve out my own piece of happiness, I'll gladly play by your rules."
Sapphira leans close to Christian, then thinks better of it and edges away. She whispers, just loud enough for him to hear but Narthropple to remain deaf. "I...took care of two others. I left them in the corners of the room where you found me. The accuracy of Master Narthropple's recollection determines whether these tunnels are clear or if one more of those beasts remains lurking just out of sight."
"I can lead us to Narthropple, whatever state he may be in," Sapphira declares. "Just keep your eyes open, especially behind us. I don't know how many of those things were down here."
"In the days we traveled together, I could never pry his purpose from him," she replies, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I was able to confirm his company had no affiliation with those damnable Taldanes. I came to suspect that, if they weren't simply pursuing old riches in some dusty ruin, they were hired to map the region. In my brief forays into the city, I keep my ear to the ground. I've heard that a few factions have suddenly taken an interest in bringing this land to heel." She pauses and kneels abruptly, brushing her fingers against a slab of stone low to the ground. "This is one of his markers. We're on his trail. When we find Narthroplle, I'd wager he'd offer gratitude rather than a fight. Depending on how he's fared over the intervening days, there may not even be much fight left in him."
"He was, by far, the most tolerable of his companions," she replies. "The priest was too headstrong, ready to charge into battle. He led us into the beastmen's ambush. Their scout was too quiet and eyed me too suspiciously. He made me nervous. Their wizard was the worst, always plying me with words to lure me to bed." Hidden by her hood, the expression that crosses Sapphira's face lies somewhere between a scowl and a wincing grin. "Narthropple was a soldier by vocation. He certainly commanded his companions with the sledgehammer-like grace of a sergeant. He spoke not about his background and seemed more focused on what was before him. While we marched along the river, I saw his fighting style in action against a patrol of lizardfolk. He fought with a pair of blades, one in each hand, and focused on parrying with one while landing a doughty blow with the other."
Now accompanied by Sapphira, the party ascends from this ancient refuge, back to the twisting tunnels that sit just above. As the avian duo scout ahead, Sapphira occasionally pauses to crouch down and feel against the stone of the walls, just above the floor. "I took Narthropple for a fool at first," she admits. "But he had at least a modicum of wit. He suspected that if he left any obvious trail markers, whatever lurked down here might use them to track us - or efface them and force us to lose our way. Thus, he made only very subtle marks, very low to the ground where they would be easy to miss." She rises and offers a faint snort of frustration. "He did not come this way. We may yet find his trail. He was a tenacious little slip."
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Does anyone know where there is a good discussion of mounted combat and the related feats. I have a character who wants to take some ranger levels, but I do not plan on enough to make a full fledged animal companion really worthwhile, even with Boon Companion. Mostly my character is archery focused, but my understanding is that down the road there may be a fair amount of mounted combat, possibly involving flying mounts - griffons, etc. I have searched the messageboards and the guides, but nobody seems to have written a guide or made a discussion thread specifically focusing on mounted combat and the benefits of the dozen or so mounted feats. Any insight or direction is appreciated.
A solid group of players are seeking a replacement DM. We started and played about two weeks before our esteemed DM became bogged down in RL and had to bow out. We are seeking a new DM interested in running this most lawful and evil of campaigns. Here is the link to the old campaign. We could either continue from where we made it to, or start over since we did not get very far.
I am in a campaign and last week it mysteriously dropped into the Previous Campaigns. I contacted the DM and he said that everything looks correct as far as the game setup and this does not seem to have affected any of the other players. If someone could help resolve this it would be appreciated. The campaign is: Jaye's Carrion Crown My character is: Alexa Grunwald Thank you.
I am sure this question has been asked, but I cannot find a concise answer. In the vast majority of campaigns I see, GMs or DMs post links to maps. Some of these maps have been created using MapTools or similar products. Some are hand drawn and scanned in. But many are parts of PDFs from Paizo or other modules/APs. Is it a violation of the copyright to post these to say Google Docs or a related storage site (Imageshack, etc), and to then share them only to the link so that players can view the map. Usually these maps have previously been imported as backgrounds into MapTools and have had sight lines, grids, coordinates, character tokens, monsters, furniture, and other things added, but they still use the original map as the background. This question came up recently in a discussion with someone who is considering running on of the Paizo APs on this site. Thank you, Tirion
17 Arodus 4711 Glorfin:
Leaving Rolgrimmdur was not easy. Fortunately you found a small dwarven caravan heading east to trade with your brethren in Maheto. For the first few days as you all marched east out of the mountains, the voyage was uneventful. However, on the fifth day, as you were preparing to make camp, you spotted a dozen horsemen following you. Knowing that anything was possible, you group formed up prepared for the worse, as southern Galt frequently provides. Fortunately, as the horsemen approached, it turned out to be an elvish mage, his guards, and several elvish merchants. Although initially standoffish, after determining that neither group intended to initiate combat, the elves dismounted and asked whether they could join your camp for the night as numbers are always safer in lawless Galt. The leader of the dwarves after grumbling about elves and their flighty natures, agreed. While sharing the evening meal, the elves informed you that bandit activity had increased to the west of the Verduran Fork and that the dwarves should take care crossing the plains between the Fog Peaks and the forest. Over the next week you crossed the hills to the south of the Fog Peaks and crossed the plains without incident, although on more than one occasion, you could see your group being watched and followed by horsemen. Fortunately they must have decided that a dozen armed dwarves was not worth the risk. Two days ago, you crossed the Verduran Fork and joined up with the main road heading north and east along the river. At this time, your traveling companions bid you farewell as they continued east to Maheto, while you turned north following the road to Yanmass - the gateway to Casmaron. To say that your trip has been longer and dustier than expected would be an understatement. With every step, you can hear the dust grind in your armor, and whenever you take a drink of water, you can taste the mud from the dust that has accumulated on your lips. The fields on either side of the river and road do not appear much better. While you are not by any means a farmer, the short stunted corn and wheat make it apparent that many may go hungry this winter. At last, three days after parting from the other dwarves, you see the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they are but specs, but soon they grow in height and as you approach the city walls you also begin to see what appears to be a tent city outside of the city. You knew to expect this, Yanmass is the first point of entry into the Avistan, the place where huge caravans from Camaron cross north of the World’s Edge Mountains with exotic goods from lands to the east. About a mile outside of the tent city, as you look behind yourself, you see a rather strange sight. Two halflings riding up the trail. While halflings on mounts is nothing unusual, the fact that one of them is using an elk as a steed does indeed cause your eyebrows to raise. Thus, you stop and step to the side of the road while watching the pair approach. When they pass you, you stoically acknowledge then with a nod of your head which they return with a wave before continuing on their way toward Yanmass. Shaking your head in bewilderment at the rather strange pair, you then turn and continue your way into the city of tents. As you pass through the tent city, you see strange wagons and peoples. People wearing turbans and carrying strange curved blades. You even see huge wagons with sails atop, as though designed to sail across the land like a ship on the sea. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of walking through the tent city, you see the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inches closer to the horizon behind you. And inside the gate, your future. All you know from your companions and the elves you met is that your goal is an inn of less than perfect repute that is alleged to be a popular gathering point for adventurers and guards, and unfortunately those seeking to prey on the unwary. This is the Inn of the Spider Queen. While the elves spoke of it with disgust, like a dwarf would speak of an inn run by a duegar, they did say that if one were seeking those desiring adventure, it was the first place to go. Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face - your beard will require far more than a little water to clean - you enter through the gates seeking the Inn of the Spider Queen. Tybek:
After leaving Maheto and your less than reputable past behind you. You travelled north. First reaching the mountainous Faldamont, another small city with a sizable population of dwarves, but the dwarves in Faldamont, unlike Maheto with its fine craftsmen, were primarily miners. With little call for your skills, you once again turned to acquiring money and goods which were not yours. Resulting in you leaving the city in the wee hours of the morning via a high wall with the guard close behind. After Faldamont, you continued north leaving the foothills of the World’s Edge Mountains and entering the broad plains of northern Taldor. With a continuous wind blowing from the thousands of miles of plains to the east in Casmaron, the sand and dust made travel by foot from farming village to farming village less than enjoyable. You had managed to pocket enough before leaving Faldamont that you did not need to resort to less than reputable means of getting food, however, you spent many long nights sleeping outside on the plains while listening the the distant howling of wolves and the other night sounds. Sounds which to a dwarf born and raised in a city like Maheto were strange and alien resulting in but a few hours of restless sleep each night. On one night you even heard a roar which you imagined to be a lion, causing you to hide is a dry stream bed for nearly a day before finally emerging to see that no lions were about. Unlike the major trade routes to the east and southwest of Yanmass, the road you followed was not much more than a path. Fortunately, you were traveling across a part of Taldor still regularly patrolled by the Taldan Horse and, thus, managed to avoid the bandits and other threats you had heard much about in various taverns as you continued your slow trek north. After several days of solemnly making your way north alone, fearing that you might die of thirst after having finished your last two wineskins the prior day and now having to subsist on the last half filled waterskin, you notice a lone traveller following you on the path. You continued your slow but steady dwarven pace, but it was soon apparent that this long legged traveller was faster than you and shortly before evening he caught you. You quickly noticed the symbol of Cayden, a tattered pewter mug, hanging around his neck. Open to any companionship, you struck up a conversation and eventually decided to make camp together. During the evening meal, which was quite spartan due to neither of you being properly prepared for this journey, Arindale introduces himself and tells you that he is a priest of Cayden. At this point your smile grew several sizes, and might in fact have stretched you face far beyond its normal size. You then asked whether clerics of Cayden can in fact create mead from dust and receive as a confirmation a skin full of mead. Perhaps not the best mead in the world, but for being in the middle of nowhere, it tasted like heaven. That evening you consumed several more and have no recollection of what occurred, but remember awakening late the next morning when the sun was already well above the horizon. After waking up late with a wicked headache, you again began the trek north, now accompanied by your new companion. Late that afternoon, you saw the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they were but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also begin to see what appears to be a tent city outside of the city. You knew to expect this, Yanmass is the first point of entry into the Avistan, the place where huge caravans from Camaron cross north of the World’s Edge Mountains with exotic goods from lands to the east. As you passed through the tent city, you saw strange wagons and peoples. People wearing turbans and carrying strange curved blades. You even saw huge wagons with sails atop, as though designed to sail across the land like a ship on the sea. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of traversing the tent city, you saw the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon off to the west. And inside the gate, your future. You did not know what to expect, but after being run out of two cities due to acquiring things from others which they did not wish to relinquish, you knew that this is your last chance in Taldor. If you are caught stealing here, your choices are north across the Fog Peaks to chaotic Galt, west to Andoran, or east to mysterious Casmaron, none of which you wish to visit broke and covered in dust. As you first entered the tent city, your new companion, Arindale, asks one of the guards where a cleric of Cayden and a dwarf can find a good drink. He told you that if you had any useful skills, you should seek out the Inn of the Spider Queen, not the most reputable of inns, but a place where those with the right talents and an interest in adventure could frequently be found gathering. Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face - your beard will require far more than a little water to clean - you enter through the gates seeking the Inn of the Spider Queen. Ranim:
While always considered the gifted one by your friends in the caravan, being stronger than all but the biggest men and with a personality that could charm even the grouchiest of people, you were also the most impulsive. When the caravan arrived in a new city or town, you would be the one to wander off and explore the taverns and libraries. You step-father and the others in the caravan never complained as you were good at taking care of yourself, and usually brought a whole stream of people back wishing to watch the performance. However, in recent years, you have discovered that heat and cold do not bother you as they do others. During even the hottest of days in Taldor, you would hardly break into a sweat. As the caravan began to make its return trip north and west out of Taldor and back toward Cheliax and eventually Varisia, you decided to leave. The impetus for this was a story you had overheard after singing in a tavern as part of your usual pre-performance advertising. It was a story of riches and danger from far to the north of Taldor. While you did not hear much, you did learn that many years earlier some cult had caused great unrest after summoning and releasing elementals in this remote northern region of the country. The rather intoxicated man who was boasting of this claimed that somewhere up there assuredly lay a kings ransom of treasure, and to prove this, he raised his hand and showed the gaudiest bracelet you had ever seen. While his story sounded absurd - why would someone summon elementals and bury treasure in the middle of nowhere - you nonetheless impulsively decided to strike out and see if you could find this treasure. Thus, the next day you found yourself singing to entertain the daughter of a noble who was traveling to her father’s estate near the city of Yanmass far to the north. The trip was to be by river barge which would take nearly two weeks to travel the distance up the Sellen River and then east along the Verduran Fork to Yanmass. The trip passed uneventfully other than a few stray arrows which were fired while passing through the forest, only to be met with return fire from the guards on the barge and the mage who was the young lady’s advisor and protector. Two days before the expected arrival in Yanmass, the barge was forced to stop when the usually full Verduran Fork’s flow diminished to not much more than a stream. At this time, you bid the young lady farewell and decided to continue the last day or two to Yanmass by yourself on foot. While you had never heard of Yanmass before two weeks earlier, you had learned much about it from the guards on the barge. Thus, after a day of near solitude slowly walking next to the river, your path met with the trade route from Oppara and southern Taldor after which the traffic picked up, as did the dust caused by the extraordinary dry conditions in the area. A day later, you finally began to see the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they are but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also began to see what appeared to be a tent city outside of the city. You knew to expect this, Yanmass is the first point of entry into the Avistan, the place where huge caravans from Camaron cross north of the World’s Edge Mountains with exotic goods from lands to the east. About an hour before reaching the tent city, you heard the sound of hooves and the sudden bark of a dog behind you. Assuming that this was another caravan from the south, you tiredly stepped to the side to let them pass. As you did so, you were surprised to see not a caravan, but the unusual sight of two halflings, one astride an elk and the other riding a large hound. Even with your traveling experience, you do not recall ever seeing anyone riding an elk. Thus, you simply stood and watched as they approached. When they reached you, the one on the hound gave you a cheerful wave and wished you a good day as they passed. You returned the wave and then once again stepped back onto the road for the last few steps before you finally reached Yanmass. As you passed through the tent city, you saw strange wagons and peoples. People wearing turbans and carrying strange curved blades. You even saw huge wagons with sails atop, as though designed to sail across the land like a ship on the sea. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of walking through the tent city, you saw the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon behind you. And inside the gate, your future. You did not know what to expect, but had been told by the guards on the barge that those seeking adventure in the Fog Peaks and other less inhabited parts of Taldor frequently begin in a less than reputable inn known as the Inn of the Spider Queen. Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face - your hair will require far more than a little water to clean - you entered through the gates seeking the Inn of the Spider Queen.
Arindale:
After leaving Oppara with a full keg of ale and a sturdy mount, at least that is what the old horse trader told you, you and your companions made your way north following along the western wall of the World’s Edge Mountains, seeking adventure where ever it could be found, which on the side of the mountains controlled by Taldor for three millennium were few. Your team managed to route a group of kobolds which provided for a good night in Maheto and a new keg of Maheto Dwarven Stout. You then proceeded north to Faldamont where you heard rumors of a tribe of goblins which had apparently taken root in a old cave a few hours east of the city. Without a second though, you and your crew immediately set forth to dispatch of these vicious vermin. Having left late in the afternoon following a drinking bout, you found the sun rapidly setting to the west without and sign of the supposed goblins. Thus, you set up camp for the night. As the healer for the party, you were assigned to the last watch in the morning. You were awakened about two hours before dawn by the party fighter, Marteen. Smiling and nodding, you took your watch. However, shortly after getting up, the prior day and nights beer caught up with you. While visiting a nearby tree, you heard the screams begin. More like cats being tortured than any intelligent creature was your best description. You quickly returned to see the party mage receive a dog slicer to the gut, the party fighter was already down and the rogue fighting a losing battle. Knowing that the twenty or more goblins were more than you could handle, you slunk back and hid in the bushes until the noises stopped. When daylight finally broke, you crept back to see the carnage from the prior night. Searching the area, you managed to find some equipment scattered about, but the rest of your party were missing, and you assumed dead. The horses were also missing. Embarrassed and unwilling to return to Faldamont, you recalled that the parties goal was Yanmass, or something like that. Thus, you turned north following the little travelled road from Faldamont to Yanmass, using the gifts given you by the Lucky Drunk to heal those in need, and in return being given food and drink, perhaps not the best, but enough to keep you alive. Also, while walking the long and lonely road north, you came to realize that alcohol was one of the root causes of your current situation. And while Cayden is the patron of those who drink, he is not the patron of those who die because of drink. Lying awake at night under the stars one night, you make a vow to never again allow the alcohol to control you. You may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but you at least came to realize that there was a time and place for drink, and on the trail in dangerous lands was neither the time nor the place. After many days of travel, you lost count after two, or was it three, you came upon a lone dwarf also making his way north. Not having seen any other travelers on the desolate path for more than a day, you slowed down your pace and joined the slow but steady fellow. He told you his name was Tybek and that he too was heading north in search of a change and adventure. That evening, Tybek explained that he was parched and the little water remaining in his waterskin just did not do the job like some good dwarven stout. Smiling and forgetting your vow, you called upon the Lucky Drunk and produced a skin full of mead, perhaps not the quality of the dwarven drink Tybek sought, but from the smile on his face, you assume that it did the job. After a having a skin full of mead yourself, you suddenly recalled your vow to yourself. Thus, you chose to instead consume water for the rest of the night. You could not say the same for your new dwarven friend. As you watched, Tybek continued to partake of your god’s blessings eventually becoming roaringly drunk and making strange proclamations about living in a clock tower and seeking some elemental spark or something to make a super clock. What exactly a clock is you never determined as Tybek then fell asleep drunk not awakening until well after sunrise the next morning. Later the next day, you and Tybek finally saw the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they were but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also begin to saw what appeared to be a tent city outside of the city. Not really having an idea what Yanmass would be like, this city of tents was strange and foreign, as was the garb of many of the merchants and guards. After walking through the tents for a while and staring at unusual clothes, the beautiful women, and the strange humped beasts being hitched to wagons, you stop and ask a man where a cleric of Cayden and a dwarf can find good drink. Laughing, the guard tells you to find the Inn of the Spider Queen. After another thirty minutes of walking through, and occasionally getting lost in, the tent city brought you to the city gates, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon behind you. With your mouth parched from the dry dusty trail you had followed for several days, you hope this Spider Inn or Queen Inn or whatever it was, had good drink, but also recalled you vow to yourself. Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face, you enter through the gates and began to look for the inn hoping your companion recalled what it was named.
Braden - Part 1:
After several years of self study with occasional training from a traveling wizard who would pass through your village about once a year, you finally decided to seek adventure. Although you had read about numerous exotic places, Jalmeray, Rahadoum, Varisia, you realized that you lacked the experience and funding to go to these places. Thus, you decided to seek your future closer to home. You left your village on the edge of the Verduran Forest and began to follow the edge of the forest north and east heading for Yanmass, gateway to the east, and the city where adventures into the northwestern corner of Taldor were rumored to begin. Your travels began uneventfully, but after two days, you were attacked by three goblins while resting for your second breakfast. Fortunately you managed to make the ground so slick that the goblins all fell to the ground. You then quickly grabbed your backpack, jumped on your faithful hound and rode off into the morning sun (with you tail between your legs). Two days later, still being much more careful watching where you took your meals, and also realizing that you may not have packed enough food to supply six meals a day for the entire trip to Yanmass, you spotted one of the strangest sights you had ever seen. Following behind you was not more goblins, not the Taldor Horse, but rather a very small person riding along on a elk stag. So bewildered were you that you completely forgot to jump on your faithful dog, instead you simply sat there and watched as the elk riding halfling approached. (See combined background for continuation of this background).
Maegge - Part 1:
Having been forewarned that the Lumber Consortium was seeking you, you managed to mount your mighty elk steed and flee from the druid grove before any harm came to you or the druids. Unfortunately despite your best efforts, the Lumber Consortium trackers have followed you for several days. You have managed to keep just ahead of them seeing what you believe to be their trackers far behind on several occasions. On the morning of the third day, you finally exited the dark and comforting confines of the Verduran Forest and found yourself in the dry expanse of the plains of northern Taldor. As the druids knew that you would be unable to return to the Verduran for some time due to the long memory of those in the Lumber Consortium, they asked you to investigate what was causing the unseasonably warm and dry summer in northern Taldor. You were unsure what the druids meant, but upon exiting the forest, you immediately sensed the unhealth that was before you. Dry and dusty ground with stunted or dead grass. Hardly enough for Gimpy, let alone the wildlife which should have been living on the plains. Turning east, you began to ride as quickly as Gimpy could take you, pausing to rest only when necessary and using magic to enable Gimpy to carry you farther each day than would be expected from a normal elk, or horse. On the third day after leaving the Verduran, about midmorning several hours into your days travel and having not seen the trackers in well over a day, you saw in front of you what appeared to be another halfling with a large dog and a beautiful owl perched on his shoulder. Hesitantly riding forward, you saw that it was indeed a single halfling just finishing up a midmorning meal. When you reached him, you dismounted and introduced yourself. (See combined background to continuation).
Maegge & Braden - combined Part 2:
Maegge rode up to Braden on his majestic elk, looking like a halfling noble, if not for the twigs in his hair and general appearance of one who has spent many days living off the land without a shower or bath. Braden was unsure of who this strange woodsy looking halfling might be, but offered his hand and asked if the elk rider might want to join him in second breakfast. Having been on the trail for several hours already, Maegge agreed and soon the two were talking, Braden explaining his interest in magic and desire to adventure and see the world. Maegge being more reserved listened carefully before telling Braden that he is being followed and that they should continue east before the Lumber Consortium hunters caught up. Thus, the two halflings, one riding a majestic elk and the other on his faithful hound, began to make their way east toward the Verduran Fork and distant Yanmass thereafter. As they proceeded, the dry and dusty trail did not improve, but fortunately, the spirits of nature had granted Maegge the ability to create water out of the dust, so both were able to drink when their mouthes become parched and provide their mounts with water when needed. Two days later they crossed the Verduran Fork at the ford just north and east of where the river enters the forest and then turned to the northeast toward Yanmass. The travel was uneventful and you both discover many commonalities in that your skills are not those common among the halflings or gnomes you both grew up knowing while living in and near the great forest. After another two days on the much busier north-south trade route from Oppara, you finally began to see the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they were but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also began to see what appeared to be a tent city outside of the city. Not really having an idea what Yanmass would be like, this city of tents was strange and foreign, as were the garb of many of the merchants and guards. A mile or two before reaching the outer ring of tents, you passed a lone woman walking north who greeted you with a wave and an accent which you believed to be Varisian, or at least not from the small woodland villages you both grew up in. Shortly thereafter, just before reaching the tents, you passed another lone traveler, this time a stout dwarf. When he turned to give you a stoic welcome common among dwarves, you saw that he was covered in dust from days on the road. However, his piercing blue eyes that almost appear to shine like a light from the heavens was what made him so memorable. After walking through the tents for a while and staring at unusual clothes, the beautiful women, and the strange humped beasts being hitched to wagons, you stopped and asked a man where two tired travelers can get a good drink. With a laugh the man tells you to find the Inn of the Spider Queen where many travelers, and adventurers tend to congregate. You then continued your ride through the tent city, a ride which gathered many stares as with all the various steeds and beasts of burden, few had likely ever seen an elk used as a mount. Alas, you finally saw the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon behind you. With your mouthes parched from the dry dusty trail you had followed for several days, you hoped this inn had good drink. Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face, you enter through the gates and began to look for the Inn of the Spider Queen. _____________________________ After being directed down several wrong streets and even one alley, you finally see ahead an old and worn sign waving in the light dust filled evening breeze. It is readily apparent that this is your goal as the sign has on it a rather poorly drawn picture of a spider with a crown perched upon its head at a rather odd angle. After looking at the sign and the building from which it hung, you proceed into the Inn. From outside, you can noticed that the inn is a two story structure and appears to stretch back for a fair distance. A plaque on the door, done in a picture, indicates that no animals are allowed inside the Inn. The plaque indicates that all steeds or other animals must be put in the stables and pens behind the Inn. Those with animals or those who want to look at the stables:
The stables behind appear to be well tended and contain a number of animals including over a dozen horses, including several with eastern bloodlines you have never seen before, several ponies, a half dozen dogs and a number of more exotic animals including one hippogriff, two camels, and even an ostrich. It is apparent that travelers do frequent this inn. The charge is:
An additional note attached to the sign with prices indicates that the owner of any animal which attacks and harms any employee or other animal will be responsible for paying any and all costs incurred.
As soon as you open the door to the Inn, you smell years of unwashed bodies and spilled alcohol. Clearly this is a working man’s tavern, not that where one would expect to find a noble or member of high society. The interior is dark, even at this early hour, and filled with smoke from the pipes of two men sitting by the fireplace. However, what catches your attention is the centerpiece of the room. Behind the bar and covered with either very clean glass or some type of magic are several beautiful and disturbing pieces of artwork. In the middle, directly behind the bar is a large painting of a hideous monster. It looks like a spider, but the body is bulbous, huge and purple. However, instead of a spider’s head, it has the upper torso of a dark skinned female humanoid. In one arm it holds the torso and head of a knight, in the other the lower body of the same knight, apparently ripped in half by the creature. Most terrifying is the look on the creatures face which makes it look as though she is in ecstasy at having destroyed the warrior of good held in her hands. Behind the spider queen is a huge web of multiple colors which almost seems to change as you look at them as though you were looking at this through moving water. On either side of the central picture are two other smaller paintings, which you would call creepy at best. To the left is a picture of a large web. In the web is caught a man wearing the garb of a cleric of Iomedae. Next to him is a beautiful woman, but from her back sprout eight legs as though a spider were sprouting from her back. It is apparent from the picture that this queen of spiders has just caught her next meal, or perhaps mate. To the right of the spider queen picture is another scene which will leave nightmares for years to come. This time though, while there is no web, you can see the same woman as in the picture to the left of the spider queen. This time however, she is lying on the ground being poked by three goblins. Close inspection of the picture reveals that the sticks the goblins are using are blunt and their eyes are black, as though undead or under some spell. At the same time, the woman is smiling and in fact resting slightly above the ground supported by the eight legs protruding from her back. In the back of the picture, you can see approaching from behind the goblins what appears to be a brave warrior prepared sneak up behind the goblins to rescue the fair maiden, completely oblivious of the perilous web of deceit into which he is being ensnared. Finally, above the fireplace at one end of the room is a fourth picture. While this one does not have any spiders or spider queens, it does show a large building ablaze with flames while a small child dances and laughs in front. In the windows of the building you can see several other children attempting to escape the inferno. _________________ Spoilers for the Spider Queen picture.
Dungeoneering or Nature DC13:
The upper body of the spider queen appears to be that of a dark elf or drow. Planes DC18:
You have heard of demons and devils from the Abyss and Hell that combine animals and humanoids into monsters of untold evil, but never one such as this. Dungeoneering DC17:
You have heard of a creature called a Drider which is part dark elf and part spider. Planes DC 25:
You recall seeing mention of a horrid creature which resembles this in an old dusty text while looking for something else. The text was from another material plane and noted that the drow in that land worshipped a chaotic and evil demon lord named Lolth, a demon lord so powerful that she ascended to godhood. _________________ Spoilers for the pictures to the left and right of the Spider Queen picture.
Dungeoneering DC22:
This looks like a creature know as a Jorogumo. Jorogumo’s entice potential mates and then after mating, paralyze their mates, lay eggs in the still living body and then bind the living paralyzed body in a cocoon until the eggs hatch and use the captured victim as food. History DC22 or DC15 if from the Verduran Forest:
You recall a story of a spider woman who lived in the Verduran Forest many years ago that fits these pictures. You believe she was killed or driven away by the druids and rangers of the forest together with the brave halfling wolf riders. ________________ Spoiler for the picture over the fireplace.
History or Local DC18:
You recall reading somewhere that about twenty years ago, there was a horrible fire in an orphanage in Oppara. Reports afterwards said that it was started by a young boy who had hoped to meet some famous adventurers. The adventurers had canceled at the last minute to attend a banquet with Grand Prince Stavian III. The child was so distraught that he lit the orphanage on fire causing the death of many other children and a number of adults caring for the children. _________________ After looking at the rather disturbing pictures, you glance about the room and see a number of people. At one end around a table next to the fireplace, which is not lit due to the heat of the day, sit four men wearing long flowing robes with turbans on their heads, likely caravan guards if you had to guess. Before the fireplace in two large rocking chairs are two older men happily chatting while enjoying strangely crafted pipes unlike anything you have seen before. In one corner sits a tall dark man wrapped in a cloak and carefully watching all who enter the inn. In the middle of the room at a large table are several gnomes and a halfling who are attempting to talk two male humans and a lady elf into a game of dice. Finally, at a booth along one wall sit three people, two with swords sheathed at their sides while the third, a shorter woman, has a long cloak drawn around her. There are still several open tables. As soon as you enter, the barkeep, a large man with a big smile, calls out and welcomes you. Shortly thereafter, a rather scantily clad woman approaches and asks whether she can get you anything to drink or eat. She also invites you to grab a table before they are all taken by the evening crowd.
Welcome all to the OOC page. Please jump in and get to know each other. I have gotten the initial IC post about 1/2 done - takes a while to create it with all the backgrounds. I hope to have it within a day or two - except that work seems to keep sticking its nose into my pbp time and may push it a day or so. Once again, congrats on being selected and get ready to see just how evil the elements can be.
For a thousand years, Taldor was one of the great nations of the world. Its rule extended from Qadira to the Arcadian Ocean. But, as with most great lands, power grew into complacency and corruption. Slowly its lands claimed independence. Cheliax, Galt, Isger and Andoran all obtained freedom. Eventually, even Aroden, the patron of Taldor, forsook the land when his followers moved the center of worship from Oppara to Cheliax. Without their patron, noble houses throughout Taldor rose and fell, some continuing to worship Aroden and his ways of good and law, others not. To gain advantage against their neighbors, some houses sought darker powers, signing pacts with denizens of the lower planes. As is not uncommon, when one focuses solely on ones neighbor, one frequently fails to notice what is happening beneath ones own nose. Thus, over the centuries, as former allies stared at one another from behind their fortified walls, evil slowly crept into the once great nation. Then, a little over a century ago, the unthinkable happened: Aroden died throwing Taldor, Cheliax, Andoran and most other nations of the Inner Sea into a tumultuous period of revolutions. From these arose the Infernal nation of Cheliax, the egalitarian Andoran, and the lawless Galt. While Taldor avoided falling under the sway of the devil as did Cheliax, the infighting between the thousands of noble houses became even more pronounced with many nobles suddenly disappearing or being outright assassinated. While eyes were focused elsewhere, with the nations which formerly worshipped Aroden coming to grasps with replacing this void in the pantheon, an unspeakable evil arose in the northeastern reaches of Taldor. A cult devoted to the evil powers of the elements arose in the little travelled foothills of the Fog Peaks. At first the cult was ignored as the land was desolate and unclaimed or unwanted by nobles fighting over precious lands in the south. However, soon unusual occurrences began to occur for which no explanation other than this cult was apparent. At first it was a slight increase in minor earthquakes, more frequent and violent storms, longer winters, and an increase in wild fires. But then as the years passed, these occurrences became more frequent and vicious and covered a far greater area of the Inner Sea. Droughts would be followed by floods, a volcano in the Fog Peaks, freezing blizzards in midsummer and blazing heat during the winter. In addition, organized raids of humanoids which would be expected to be fighting amongst themselves, as well as, bandit raids began to occur with great frequency. Not only were were these raids far more organized than previously, but the raids also began to include unspeakable monstrosities, such as demons and other strange creatures alien to the Inner Sea. Over a number of years, these strange weather events and raids began to stretch beyond the borders of desolate northwestern corner of Taldor. First they stretched into Galt and then Andoran, eventually even affecting the lands of, the Five Kings Mountains, Kyonin, and Druma. Then suddenly, all the rumors of storms and earthquakes spreading from the sparsely populated lands in the northwest of Taldor suddenly ended. Whether the horror stories from this twenty year period were nothing more than the creations of gullible minds, a few ales and creative bards, or whether these stories were true, you do not know. What you do know is that at about the time of the end of these stories, forces comprised of Sarenrae, Erastil and Iomedae worshippers, together with dwarven warriors, elven mages and other forces of good supposedly gathered in north eastern Andoran and set forth on an expedition across Galt. A few months later these forces returned looking beaten and bruised, but victorious. Since this time, there continue to be reports of raids by humanoids and brigands in these lands, but these are the not organized raids which had occurred previously, but rather they are quick and disorganized rape and pillage raids. What you also know is that in any gathering of adventurers in Taldor or Absalom, there is at least one group claiming to have returned from the area north and west of Yanmass with their pouches full of gold and gems and magic. It is these stories which have drawn you to this desolate corner of Taldor seeking your own fortune. After several days on the trail, or boat if you are arriving by boat, you see the low walls of the caravan city of Yanmass, the northernmost city of any size in Taldor and the gateway to the Kellid lands to the east. You might be arriving with a caravan from the plains of Casmaron. You might have travelled south around the Fog Peaks from Galt, or east from Andoran, or north from southern Taldor, Absalom, and the Inner Sea beyond. Your reasons for arriving in the far north of Taldor is your own, but you know that the Inn of the Spider Queen is your goal. An inn of questionable reputation, but also the supposed gathering point for many heading to, and from, the wild lands to the north and west. It is here that you hope to find others of like mind, and soon be heading into these lands of rumors to make a name for yourself, to gain riches and fortunes, to discover whether these rumors of blizzards and volcanos and earthquake and storms are true, or if they are just tall tales from the lips of a bard.
Yes, in case you are wondering, I have decided to rework the classic AD&D Temple of Elemental Evil - 1987 version. While I plan on staying with the themes and designs of the original module, the changes that have occurred over the past 25 years make much of the module untenable as a direct conversion. Thus, if you expect to find a bugbear behind a door, do not be surprised when it is a goblin, or an ogre, or a rabid wolf. Even if you have played the ToEE in the past, feel free to submit an application. Also, if you have played any of the computer versions, that is fine. All that I ask is that you let me know how much you have played/read this module so that I can determine how much things need to be modified to keep everyone on their toes. Also, if this module goes well, I would consider continuing the adventure into either the Slave Lord’s series (A1-4) or the Giants/Drow series (GDQ1-7). Obviously this would not be for quite a while as this massive 128 page module is probably the equivalent of 3-4 Pathfinder APs. (This estimation is based upon my having played several APs, I do not actually own any APs.) Posting Requirements: I am looking for people that can check in on the thread at least a couple of times a day, and post at least 1/day on weekdays. Weekends are more relaxed although I will usually continue to post and update over most weekends. Crunch Application Guidelines:
Modified Focus/Foible
25 point buy
1 stat must be 17 or higher before racial modifiers and 1 must be 9 or lower - minimum is 7 after racial modifiers and I expect you to play a low score (ugly, weak, clumsy, bad decision maker, etc).
Alignment is flexible – since you will be fighting a lot of evil, good/neutral is preferred. I also really do not like CN as it invariably leads to one of two things - party infighting or someone not playing their alignment. You are free to submit a CN character, but recognize you will need to have a very strong background. HP Max @ 1st, 1/2+1/2 roll each level thereafter (ie-1d8--> 4+1d4) Races: All core races are fine. In addition to the basic core races, the following races are all approved. Approved Races:
Any other race will require approval and a very good backstory. In addition, if your race is once of the standard +2/+2/-2 races, you may change any one, and only one, of these modifiers to another stat of the same physical/mental group to flavor your character, but a good reason for this change must be included in your background. (In other wards, if you want an elf fighter, you may switch the +2 from Dex to Str, or for a dwarf cleric, you may switch the -2 from Cha to Int.) Just remember, I expect something in the background as to why you are an agile gnome or a strong elf. Note - you may not switch a bonus/penalty from mental to physical and vice versa. (ie - changing from Con to Dex is ok, changing from Con to Wis is not ok.) Classes: - no summoners, no gunslingers, no ninjas, no samurai. Cavaliers are fine, but their mounted powers are likely to be not very useful in the large dungeons involved. Anything else from the Core Rules, APG, UM and UC is fine including archetypes. If you have questions, feel free to ask. As a note, I am not a huge fan of Alchemists, but will allow them as long as I do not think that the build is too unbalanced. Cash: Average starting cash. Traits: Two traits – no restrictions other than that only one per trait type is allowed. (ie - one combat and one religion is ok, two combat is not). If you wish to use a campaign trait from another AP, it will require approval.
If anyone wants any other Paizo or 3PP content, it may be approved on a case by case basis, but requires approval before being considered and a link or cite to the applicable rule. Personally, I think that Paizo has enough rules, so your background will need a very good reason for something outside of the regular Paizo.
Fluff Application Guidelines: Please let me know what your background and understanding of the Temple of Elemental Evil is. I know that there have been several video games and a 3rd generation D&D Return to the ToEE module of some sort. I am basing this off of the original AD&D module, heavily modified for Golarian and PF. I plan on changing a fair amount once we get into the real game, but would like to know how much people know about the campaign so that I can taylor my adjustments. Questions for all submissions:
2) You are traveling through the forest and you suddenly see three goblins poking at a bound prisoner on the ground. What do you do? 3) You just returned from successfully defeating a dragon which had been terrorizing the local villages. An orphanage requested that the brave heroes come so that the children can meet them. You accept, but then receive an invitation from the King to join him at a banquet in your honor. You cannot do both, what do you do? 4) How do you expect your character to develop by level 5? Level 10? 5) Who is your favorite villain and your favorite hero from a medieval story and why? Can be historic, from a book, or from a movie. 6) Let me know if/how much you have played/read the ToEE - any version including AD&D, 3rd Ed., Return to ToEE, or any video games or novels. 7) You are sitting in a tavern when a distraught father runs in and announces that his daughter has been kidnapped by brigands and now they are demanding a ransom or will kill her. He says he has no money to reward the party but hears that the brigands have had much success. What do you do? _____________________ What do you Need to Post Now for an Application:
Class – including any Archetypes
I don’t need full sheets or profiles at this point, they can come post selection, but the more you give me, the more I will have to evaluate your application on. I personally use a fairly standard format for my characters, look at any of my aliases. I will not require this format, but if you use something different and I cannot find something on your sheet and you do not respond, I will make decisions based on what I can find. Recruitment Timeline: Recruitment will be up for as long as it takes to get a decent list of applicants together, though at least through next Tuesday - July 24 at midnight Central US time. I will be looking at a party of 5-6 for this PbP. However one spot is reserved – which leaves 4-5 spots available. I’m sure the player with the guaranteed spot will check in – and the player is planning on playing a rogue. I have no problem with more than one rogue/skill player, but just be aware that there is already a rogue in the party.
I apologize for the long intro. Fire away with any questions that you might have and I shall endeavor to answer them. |
