Sool's page

If Sool is to be immortalized as an NPC or a haunt (!) then I wish to go on the record as saying that Sool did not dislike anyone in the group. The only person he really disliked was Bort, because he was an annoying loudmouth. In fact he rather liked Throkk because he seemed good-natured and uncomplicated.

Sool is a very lonely person who has sort of lost hold of how to relate effectively with other people. For the most part, what seems like disdain on his part was instead confusion or uncertainty with how to respond. He is very old and has watched many people that he cared about live and die and pass into the oblivion of vague memory -- that sort of thing (to my mind) would tend to throw up barriers around the heart and make it difficult to trust in establishing new bonds with new people. My concept for him was that he became an enchanter *because* he was so bad at relating to people-- he needed the 'cheat' of manipulating people with magic to properly fit into the world. As it turned out, I barely used any charm spells in the game, and the few I tried didn't work. I would have been better off playing an evoker.

Because Sool also tended to be fairly honest and speak his mind in a bland emotionless manner, he obviously came off as snooty or sneering. That was never my intent, so I probably failed in that respect with the character. To be honest I started leaning into the jerky-ness for comic effect, just to amuse myself, as the game progressed. Part of his stiffness was his unwillingness to talk about his past or his emotional pain -- trusting others is just not something he does.

I also had a concept that I'd have him 'lecture' a fair amount about the technicalities of magic, but there was clearly no one in the group who would have been had any interest in that, so I dropped that idea as well.

One nice surprise in the game was Sool's very mixed feelings about Vilree. He couldn't help but identify with her a bit, as a kindred spirit lost on a dark path. Clearly she had to be stopped and deserved to be punished, but a part of him always hoped she could be saved. He respected her skills and her spirit, even as he despised her malice and hate. That ambivalence lasted up until the moment of the final fight.

BTW, just for closure, what exactly did the town DO to Vilree's mother? I don't think we ever got a clear story there, and that was the central mystery of the adventure.

And what the heck is that key for?!

It probably opens the gate at the fort. I seem to recall we had to bash that open.

My thanks for the kind words, but I don't think I'm going to continue. I just can't get comfortable with 2e--the character building and the feats and most of the magic items are just bewildering to me. Plus I'm just kinda fatigued with all my Paizo adventure paths right now.

Thanks Kevin for a fun game, I'm super glad we finished.

Sool wonders for a moment what Morson actually does for a living. But only for a moment. Best not to let one's thoughts linger on the motivations of dwarfs.

"Agreed, we should report back to the town and let them know that we've solved their problem for them. No doubt they'll be vaguely grateful."

...when faced with evil I'd rather know how to do more about it than keep someone else on their feet... if that makes any sense.

Sool glances away and thinks about this for about 3 seconds.

"No, not really." he says abruptly, shrugging. "It seems to me you could easily do both."

He plucks at the remaining shreds of his acid-soaked and incinerated robe. "Ruined. How positively tragic."

"I do know something about growing dissatisfied with one's life and seeking new paths. When you live as long as an elf, it's practically inevitable that eventually you find yourself --played out, shall we say? Loneliness and emptiness and regrets..."

He stops himself, then looks back at Sazen a little imperiously. "But I suppose when one lives as briefly as one of you mayflies, it doesn't pay to dawdle about in a profession you don't enjoy. I'm sure you'll come up with something." He's still fiddling with his robe. "Do you have a needle and thread? Perhaps I could patch it..."

"You wouldn't bother me." says Sool blandly. He doesn't seem to mean anything more than ignoring other people would likely be fairly simple for him. Then he suddenly blinks and looks curiously at Sazen.

"You regret becoming a cleric?" he says, mildly surprised.

Sool emerges from the dank dirty pool looking like a soaked cat. "Well, that's that, I suppose." he says, a trifle bitterly. He looks down on the exsanguinating elven woman and ponders her in silence for a while. It was his first really good look at her.

"I suppose we should bury her. Or cart her back to town."

"You know, I suppose technically no one owns this place any more. I think it's probably ours if we want it. If one can think of a reason to live in this dismal backwater. Still, she had nice armchairs. And the local orcs seem to have been cleared out for the moment. It might not be a bad place to settle down and work on my next book."

He starts collecting up her various possessions that will fit comfortably into his satchel.

Sool runs forward and leaps into the water to attempt to douse both the fire and acid damage from Vilree’s bombs.

From there he casts a spell at the mad elf, hoping to impair her.

casting Hideous Laughter on Vilree

OK, so Sool, takes 16 from the alchemist fire, 2 from the acid flask, recieves 22 in healing, and will take 2 & 2d6 at the end of the round, correct?

Sool turns to Vilree and unleashes a little damage of his own.

Magic Missile, Heightened: 6d4 + 6 ⇒ (2, 3, 1, 2, 4, 4) + 6 = 22

Probably not a good idea. I don't really know 2e rules well enough to play someone else's character effectively, I can barely play my own. Sool's corpse is going to melt beyond effective healing, so I think I'm just a spectator now. Good luck guys.

Sool slumps to the ground, unconscious and sizzling.

We shoulda just attacked her on sight, in retrospect

"Please listen to her, Vilree. Let all of this go. There's more to life than this." adds Sool.

Sool follows Morson to the opening to Vilree's cavernous lair. The sight of the sad and wicked woman standing alone and preparing to defend herself almost draws out enough pity from him to make him forget her myriad crimes and incipient madness. Almost.

He moves further into the chamber and addresses the villainous Vilree, giving her one final chance to be reasonable.

"Vilree!" he calls out in a commanding voice. "It's over. Your schemes have failed, your lieutenants are dead, and your assets have run out. Surrender peacefully, and return to the town with us. Explain to the magistrate and the citizens of that town what led you to this mad quest to destroy them. They have wronged you, but you have also gravely wronged them. Perhaps a testimony of your misfortunes and traumas will earn their sympathy or at least bring you some degree of closure. Be sensible. Please don't make us kill you in some dank, lonely cave. You are a woman of great talent and learning-- don't waste it all for pride and vengeance."

All the above is contingent on Sool not springing some wicked and deadly trap on himself when he steps into the cavern. I know it's probably futile to try to talk her off the ledge, but Sool feels like he owes her a last chance. Call it a sense of professional courtesy.

Sool noses his way to the front for a peek once the line stops. Spotting the bats, he points along the wall to the north, indicating with his expression that they should try to sneak past the potentially noisy bats.

"Hmm. Well, this may explain why she chose to set up shop in this dismal place. This is a Flaystone deposit. Quite rare. Thankfully." He carefully collects a sample in one of his glass vials and puts it away in his pack.

"Shall we continue?" he says, addressing his companions. "There's a passage here to the south."

Sool takes the torch down from the wall and goes to have a closer look at the green veins in the rock.

GM, what sort of check to know what this stuff is?

"It may have once been an ogre. Constructs don't breathe and groan -- whatever that thing was, it was once a natural creature. May Pharasma take its soul."

Sool will allow Sazen to do any healing she wishes to do, then opens the next door.

Sool moves to stand near Sazen then sends a piece of debris flying at the monster...

Telekinetic Projectile: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

...but misses.

Sool groans as the thing breaks out of its cage.

"You just *had* to talk to it, didn't you?" he says in exasperation. He then begins casting...

Cast Magic Missile, 3 action

Magic Missile: 3d4 + 3 ⇒ (2, 4, 1) + 3 = 10

Seeing his companions looking at the grotesque creature in the cage with lingering looks of pity, Sool emits the tiniest of sighs and spends a few moments cleaning his fingernails.

As the other approach, he opines.

"I very much doubt there's anything we can do for that unfortunate thing, whatever it is. Perhaps when we find Vilree, we'll learn more from her private notes about her experiments and whether there is anything we can humanely do for it aside from giving it a merciful death."

He then opens the next doorway.

"It doesn't seem inclined to leave, whatever it is." says Sool as he cooly regards the gurgling monstrosity. "We can deal with it on the way out if we wish. We should continue our search for the woman."

Sool will move to the doors on the east side of the room.

Sool will move to check the hallway on the north side of the room, trying to move quietly.

Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Sool moves forward to examine the alchemical items and the note.

Are these items heading to the same address in Egorian as the ones in the last room? Is there a name on the invoice?

He looks back at the others and silently points to the broad passage leading out of this room, heading north, back toward where the 'gurgling' was.

Unable to see the remaining drudge, Sool moves forward but does not cast.

"I seem to recall something about 'gurgling' sounds coming from behind that other door. I wouldn't recommend fighting on two fronts." says Sool. He cranes his long thin neck looking around Throkk, then sends a spray of magical bolts hurtling toward the alchemical beast.

Magic Missiles vs Green: 3d4 + 3 ⇒ (4, 2, 1) + 3 = 10

Thank you for the clarification, I was indeed confused about the layout.

Sool nods his agreement to checking the southern wooden door. "It might be her. Or it might be that homunculus. And the door might be trapped like the room in the tower."

Sool follows Sazen down the stairs and ends up standing before the carving. His lips tighten.

"A nasty dream." he murmurs and shakes his head. He moves to the next iron stairway and peers down to the iron door.

"I wonder..." he says to himself, cocking his head curiously.

Sool moves into the room and looks over the laboratory with keen interest, and even makes a few notes on some of the tradecraft involved. He helps himself to a couple bottles of alchemist's fire and one bottle of the acid, carefully tucking them away in his pack.

"One might have guessed she'd have clientele in Cheliax." he says, brushing a long forefinger upon the address on the mutagen.

GM, do I see a stairway down off to the east?

Sool attacks Green with a telekinetic projectile again.

Telekinetic Projectile: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Sool keeps sending inanimate objects hurtling toward Green.

Telekinetic Projectile: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Sool continues to target Green with telekinetic projectiles.

Telekinetic Projectile: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Sool sends a Telekinetic Projectile at Green.

Ranged Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Sool casts 'Grease' under yellow, orange and green.

"I'll certainly look through these items once our primary job is finished." answers Sool. "I recognize some of these boxes and tools as being mentioned in the ledgers we found yesterday." He picks up a small jar filled with red powder. "Cinnabar. Quite rare and valuable. A potent transmutative substance. Do you realize this is perhaps the only substance that encompasses Abyssal and Celestial elements in perfect balance?"

He puts the jar back down, then gestures toward the unopened door to the north. "Morson, you may wish to look over that door for a mechanical trap like the one we encountered upstairs in the tower."

Sool looks curiously toward the pool, making sure the stone tomb is still intact.

Sool follows.

Sool moves to a window and attempts to look down into the courtyard below.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Sool follows Sazen up the ladder. As he steps down onto the floor of the tower, he looks around warily.

"I don't like this. No doubt we shall find nasty traps everywhere in here." he murmurs, mostly to himself.

Sool directs Throkk to set up the ladder near one of the guard towers.

He turns to Morson. "Would you like to have the first look? Or shall I?"

"Strange they wouldn't be manning the guard towers, especially if they aren't making any special effort to hide." says Sool.

He taps his chin thoughtfully. "She may have reanimated her dead soldiers. It would be simple enough for someone of her skills."

"Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. Perhaps we could use the ladder to get to a guard tower, then shoot down at them from above. I agree it makes no sense to wait until nightfall."

"If they are undead, and we were able to unlock the gate and open it, we might be able to lure them outside and trap them there. Lock them outside the door, then pick them off at our leisure. Still, first things first. We must get ourselves a better look."

Are the double doors closed/locked again?

If you had waited for the next one, all these people would now be dead Sool... do you really want that?

Sool shrugs. "People perish through malice and foolishness throughout this world every day. Especially you humans. You're like mayflies to me. You flutter about in mad hordes for a time, then die after your brief afternoon of glory, only to be replaced by tomorrow's horde. If I were sad for the passing of all human lives, I should have gone mad many decades ago. If I had never taken this path, I should never have been burdened with this nettlesome madwoman and these hapless townsfolk and I should never have lost a moment of sleep over it."

"Still, here I am, and I suppose the situation does call for a proper resolution. To walk away now would be to be partly responsible if Vilree should strike again someday. And that is another matter altogether. It is no small thing keeping one's conscience tidy for nearly three centuries."

He tips a final swallow of wine into his mouth, his thin lips pursing over the flavor. Then he places the glass carefully on the table with a slow finality. "Like it was soaked in ragweed and burlap." he laments, then rises to go to his rest.

***

The next morning, Sool sees to it that there is a good stout ladder for Throkk to haul through the woodlands back to the fort. He himself seems to have bathed and put on fresh clothing and has combed his long pale hair and pulled it back to be gathered by a silver clasp.

"Vilree has shown herself to be resourceful and mindful up to this point. She may arrange traps and ambushes for us as we return to her fortress. Or she may simply arrange to have our progress watched somehow. I do not expect this to be easy."

He plucks a brittle grey dandelion and blows upon it, sending a cascade of fluttering seedlings off on the wind. Then he tosses away the stem indifferently. "Shall we?"

Sool nods and gives out a little sigh. "I suspected that would be your answer. But it was worth confirming." A quick glance about the table confirms that Emri and Throkk were in agreement.

"I should point out that there's a good chance Vilree won't be alone when we get there. Remember that one of the orcs managed to escape -- it's entirely possible that he will return with reinforcements. Perhaps a lot. And we will likely have to break in to the place once again, so we may wish to have something more efficient that Throkk's shoulder. Perhaps a ladder or a grappling hook?"

He then takes a long nourishing swallow of his wine, trying to savor what little flavor there was. "You know, I had a bad feeling when I first approached Bort about riding on his caravan. I should have trusted my instincts and waited on the next one. I'm a scholar, not an adventurer."

It is a long afternoon spent dismantling the Plaguestone monument, and Sool spends most of it supervising the process and hectoring the good citizens of Etran's Folly like they are his own private workforce. But eventually the stones are all moved and buried. One stone is left in the small abandoned house where Sool had taken up his lodging and set up his alchemical apparatus, for further testing.

Fatigued but pleased, the slim elf retires to the Inn to meet up again with his companions and enjoy a pleasant meal of bread, cheese, fruit and a bottle of wine.

"My friends, we must take some thought to the future. Our names have been cleared of the murder of Bort, so we are free to continue our journey. The immediate danger to the town has been averted--Vilree has been thwarted, and the town made aware of her vengeful fantasies. We must decide now how to proceed."

"I see three options. First, we could declare victory and leave this town. We have done far more than could be expected of passing travelers, under the circumstances. We have no further obligation to stay, and some of us have lives and expectations outside this dreary hamlet. We could pack up the caravan and simply go."

"Second, we could rest tonight, then set out in the morning to return to Vilree's stronghold and continue our searching of the place, and then complete the process of tracking her down. Given that her mother -- over whose fate she is still obsessed -- remains interred there, not to mention that all her equipment and books are there, it seems likely she will regroup there and begin again with her schemes. We could make it our project to bring her finally to justice, or end her career more permanently if required."

"Third, we could choose a middle way, remaining here in this town. Keeping watch, helping them rebuild, being ready to aid them should danger return someday soon."

"Needless to say, if we wish to choose the second option, we should be nearly unanimous in that choice if we are to have any chance of success. One or two of us would likely not fare well against a Vilree primed for our arrival."

He sips his wine. "I welcome your thoughts."

Delma manages to get a few locals with a variety of tools including picks, sledgehammers and drills. She brings forth an old wash basin and some shovels to contain anyting that might come out. "Which tools do you recommend to get it open?"

"If there's witches using it for vile deeds we should smash it and bury it far from here." Offers one of the assembled villagers.

"Under no circumstances should you smash these rocks." warns Sool. "Whatever is inside may already be an active toxin, and might very well be able to volatilize into the air... er, that is, it may be something breathable."

"As I said, we should seal the cracks with mortar. Something that won't break down quickly. Molten lead might be even better, but that's expensive and time-consuming and I'm not certain how fragile these stones are. Once the stones are sealed, this monument should be carefully disassembled and carried stone by stone to a safe distance from town and buried. 1000 yards downwind from the town's borders should be sufficient. And that area should be made off limits for any future farms or pastures -- we saw evidence in the forests of toxins that can blight the plant and animal life. In time, we might learn more and devise a way to safely eradicate these stones, but in the meantime, I believe quarantine is your best option."

Sool alerts the mayor to his discovery and recommends that the Plaguestone be dismantled immediately for the safety of the town. "And it should be done very carefully. Whatever is in there is likely quite toxic, perhaps even deadly. I would first reseal these cracks with mortar, then move the stones whole to some place far from town and bury them deep in the ground. If you like, I could attempt to study the toxin within the stones more carefully, but I recommend against any delay. While Vilree is at large, she will certainly be plotting a new attack. She is obsessed with this town's demise."

Is a Sense Motive skill just a Perception skill in 2E? I'd like to justify Morsun noticing Delma's reaction and being suspicious enough of Rolth to follow him.

GM, just to be clear, we found no mention of Rolth in any of our evidence, correct?

"Thank you." says Sool, paying little attention to the state of Delma's eyes or Rolth's eagerness to escape town. The elf makes his way to the center of town and unslings his pack and begins laying out his tools and reagents. He then begins with a few scrapings of the Plaguestone monument, beginning with how the stone reacts to acids and becoming ever more esoteric until he comes to a conclusion about how Vilree's 'bomb' would have worked.

Crafting: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21
Occult: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

Delma blinks "I'm the mayor and also the innkeeper." She looks around nervously "I can have Sheriff Rolth sent for."

"Ah." says Sool. He blinks a few times. "Of course you are."

He sighs lightly. "Yes, I think it would be best if we disturbed the sheriff. We have solved the mystery of Bort's murder, which was the reason he was holding us here in your ... your lovely town. We'd like to show him the evidence."

Once the sheriff arrives, Sool will begin recounting the adventures of the party and show all the receipts, notes, ledgers and journals left by the villains, explaining things like a teacher to grade-school children.

He concludes. "So you see, Vilree was at the base of everything, and is still at large. She blames this town directly for the death of her mother and will stop at nothing to have revenge upon this place."

"I should very much like to learn why she targeted her creature toward your Plaguestone. My guess is that the acid in the thing was meant to erode away some protective layer of stone and release something within the monument, but I should like to examine it closer and run a few tests."

"She will indeed. But it's time we engaged the town officials in what is happening. On the one hand, I should very much like to learn more about that Plaguestone monument now -- what it's made of and what it conceals-- and that will likely require their permission. And on the other, they can assist us in combing the countryside for our fugitive maniac. Most likely she'll return to her fortress; I suspect she won't want to remain there long, but it might be difficult for her to pack up a stone sarcophagus and all her equipment and treasures, especially without her minions."

He looks out toward the countryside south of town.

"Or she may still be out there watching us. Invisibility is no difficult task for an alchemist of her skill."

Finally Sool relaxes. As he turns back to Delma to return the empty pitchers to her, he resumes his usual distant and didactic demeanor, and chooses his next words carefully, knowing that they will be the talk of the tavern for the next week or so.

He points to quivering gristle of the melting alchemical drudge in the road. "That thing, dear lady, was lifeless creature sent to explode its contents into the center of your fair village. We managed to explode it early -- the goo you see on Throkk here was itchy and unpleasant and largely harmless by itself, but it was meant to serve as a catalyst... er, an accelerant... hmm..."

Reminding himself of Delma's probable education level, he tries to dumb it down a shade.

"The danger was that the goo would mix with something in the center of your town and cause some sort of reaction." He brings his hands out in front if him, slowly moving them toward one another. "If they had mixed..." He suddenly claps his hand violently. "The consequences for your town would have been quite severe, probably deadly. But the milk has neutralized the goo." He lifts away one hand, shows it to Delma like a conjurer after a trick, then puts his hand down.

"And now, we should probably go speak to your mayor and your sheriff. We have quite the story for them." He looks back to Morson and Sazen. "No sign of Vilree, I take it?"