Hours later, the crew of the Black Betty is on their way to the 5-day destination star.
The trip goes as expected. No surprises in the Drift, and you arrive in-system.
Search Posts
Momo's charge is in vain, not hitting any portion of the creature solid enough to do damage. Amideo's sword, however, strikes home. It's hard to tell how much damage was done, but the creature's reaction seemed to indicate it had at least felt the attack.
"That's being handled, but since your team's been so effective at assisting the fleet, we wanted to give you the first choice," the speaker admits.
"What...what did it do? I don't feel right!"
The creature lashes out with a claw that's all too real, physically cutting into Ricardo's exposed flesh. The claw stays imbedded for an instant longer than necessary, and when it pulls away, Ricardo stumbles back.
Ricardo draws his blade and moves forward, uncertain whether or not his attack with have an effect on the weird creature.
The creature seems to retract its mass from Ricardo's blade almost instinctively; it is incredibly agile.
Zia:
Creature:
The skeletal creature makes a hissing grunt and lumbers beside his Elven companion. As you approach, you see something drifts low over the barren plain like a living storm cloud, its amorphous body roiling with sluggish currents of violet and charcoal vapor. Dust skitters across the cracked earth beneath it as the thing pulses and swells, flickering against the darkening sky. From its shifting mass extend two strangely solid protrusions—arm-like shapes of denser, darker matter that reach outward with slow, deliberate movements as they attack an armored, mace-wielding man. He screams a final time, and drops to the ground as you approach. Initiative
Rocko is able to find a sheltered area behind a low hill as the sun sets. It should be cool enough, and even cold, for the evening. Once the party is settled in, the sun sets quickly. The cooking fire is drifting to low embers, and talk of who's taking what watch have begun, when the sound of battle is heard not far from your position. Just at the edge of your lantern light, you can make out the form of a human struggling with...something amorphous. The man's cries mingle with an unnatural hissing.
"If the bots know - somehow - where we're goin', then they know where to concentrate their forces to stop us. I dunno if we'll be able to force our way though their entire fleet. Prolly don't want 'em hangin' around Golarion anyways. We need a way to get rid of them for good..." "We don't believe they know exactly where we're going. We've got agents working on determining how they're following us. But for now, your Ratkin crewman is correct. We'd like you to pick one of the three systems, and determine if this is indeed Golarion, or if you can find evidence of the system there." A digital image pops up on the display screen. It features a stellar map, shown in two dimensions for simplicity, with differentials showing the distance to each star. "The first, closest star is a K-Sequence star. It is similar in mass to our own star back in the colonies, but is roughly 1/3 as luminous. It is approximately 1 day's Drift travel above and starboard to our current plane of travel, according to the latest Drift navigational readings." "The second, a larger yellow G-type star, is 3 days travel below our current plane of travel." "The furthest, a yellow star only slightly larger than the colonial primary star, is 5 days Drift travel ahead and 30 degrees to port to our current direction."
Julium 4 leads you into pure, rocky desert, with very little shrubs or cacti (see image). The sun has crested well past its zenith, and you're preparing to seek a sheltered area to camp for the evening.
I'm parched already... "C'mon Djack. Hasn't been that long since you've been out here. This is the cool part of the day!" Rico says, slapping Djack on the back.
Perhaps I've missed it (I tried to go back and confirm)... Is Rico traveling with the group? He is, yes. Ricardo slaps a mosquito on his neck. "Enjoying the nice muggy air, Djackie boy?" he asks.
The next morning each member of the crew receives a summons from Councilor Drongul. Arriving in the late morning in his briefing room, you note several military personnel as well. "Good morning," Drongul says, a serious note in his voice. "What I'm about to tell you cannot go beyond this room. We believe we have found three possible systems that may contain Golarion, our long lost homeworld. We suspect this is the reason the Cyleerin have been working so hard at destroying our fleet this last month or so."
By evening you've exited the swamplands, and are well up the mountain pass. Nothing hostile approaches your camp that night, but whoever is on 3rd watch hears the cries of eagles hunting their pray in the pre-dawn hours. Julium 2 is much the same as the 1st; by the time you've come down from the mountains and are back on the path that last year saw you battling the bizarre creatures that issued forth from the Wellspring of Chaos, the temperature is quite warm. On Julium 3, you're setting up camp just past the sealed caverns of the Wellspring, and preparing to enter open desert.
It's a frustration many in the fleet have felt and even voiced lately. Too many ships have been lost to these strikes in recent weeks.
Ricardo slaps a mosquito on his neck. "Enjoying the nice muggy air, Djackie boy?" he asks.
Up to you which way to spin it. Diplo would be +9, Bluff would become +8. Neither one is game breaking by its presence or absence.
Another hot day of riding the planes comes and goes without incident; tomorrow you will be approaching the swamp in which you battled the witch last year. The swamp from which that odd frog man Dartaniel Lemonte claimed to originate. You'd be into the mountains by mid-day on the 1st of Julium. Julium 1 dawns warm and muggy, with humid air flowing up from the Southwest. After another quick breakfast of Rocko's creation, you continue on. Soon, the solid ground gives way to soggy mud, followed by marshland. Soon, you'd surrounded by trees, small ponds, and lots of wet ground. Travel, as you remember, is slow going through this land. You pass the destroyed remains of the witch's cabin. Somewhere under there lay the bones of the once-animated skeleton Raymundo.
Morning
A meadowlark is already at work somewhere nearby, its bright, liquid song carrying effortlessly across the open land. Another answers from farther off. There is no trace of foot traffic. The sun crests the horizon fully now, and the change is immediate. The cool edge in the air disappears, and it becomes warmer very rapidly.
The party stops to rest in the grasslands, leaving the Gnoll village to their own peace. The night passes without incident. Fifthday, Juna 30
The Betty docks on The Starlume a few minutes later. The crew is supposed to pick up Clarissa and transport her to a few other locations in the fleet to provide medical assistance.
By mid-day, you've passed the ranches entirely, heading into open buttes and mesas. The early summer heat is getting oppressive by high noon, though there is a southerly breeze which at least serves to cool you as you sweat (except for Rocko, who pants to cool himself). By evening, you've entered the grasslands which lead to the shortest path over the mountains, still more than a day's journey away. As the sun sets, you can attempt to push on to the Gnoll village you visited previously, or you can rest here in the grasslands.
Fourthday, Juna 29 (two days later). Having made your preparations for the journey, placing subordinates in charge of any organizational duties you may have individually, you ride now out the Southeastern Gate, fording the eastern spur of the river until you get to the rancher's path leading south. Rocko has taken this path many times, as have the others, but he thinks now of that first adventure not so very long ago, with different companions, to solve the mystery of the missing cattle. He makes a face which the flat-faces might not recognize as a grin, as they pass the Boulder Mark, remembering Pious reaching out to touch the monument that seemed so massive when Rocko's world was much smaller.
Got an idea for a narrative writeup of my downtime. Rando, I know in the past you've done that, was wondering if you were still planning on doing it or if I should go ahead. Please, feel free to write up your idea. If I have to make minor tweaks to it I will, but only if necessary.
No turret on the fighter flying off without guidance (or any of them, for that matter). Both of Burlap's shots hammer into the fighter; the particle beam brings down her rear shields, leaving the craft vulnerable to the coil runs. The bullets rip into the vehicle's rear, and finally, out the other side. The Cyleerin fighter explodes only briefly, burning off gases used in secondary systems, before the two halves of the vessel (minus the engine and cockpit portions, completely destroyed) float off in different directions. With that, the battle is won. Juce and Wyvern Squadron have finished off the rest of the fighters, losing two of their own in the process. "Thanks for the assist, Black Betty, would have been much worse if you hadn't been here."
Ricardo looks from one to the other as Rocko and Amideo discuss the utility of providing such aid. "But I can count on you, right? I mean, never let it be said that Ricardo Gama backs down from a fight, but the amount of good I could do on my own is limited."
The number of incoming Cyleerin fighters is finally dropping off as the Raptors pick off more and more of them. The occasional Raptor is destroyed, as well, but the Cyleerin tactics are clear. They will eventually win a war of attrition. But not this engagement, they won't. Top of Round 5
Once again, the beam weapon (narrowly) misses, but the Cyleerin fighter you'd hit previously (the one that doubled back) is hit solidly by the coilgun. The vessel is not destroyed, but Burlap scored a direct hit on the engines; this particular fighter is adrift in space. That said, it is still able to fire at you as it drifts past.
Back in Engineering, Cherry grumbles as she watches the shield energy indicator recharge to full, then almost immediately drop to 25% on the front arc as the Betty takes another hit. Still, no hull damage.
Cyleerin:
"Absolutely, Betty! I welcome the assist; switch to military channel 327."
The particle beam misses its mark, but the coilgun's sights are dead on. The Cyleerin fighter explodes in a fireball. The first one you hit loops back around and fires as it approaches you.
As the vessels continue through the fleet, the Raptors finally start to arrive. In the comm, you hear Juce Digly's familiar voice as his Raptor flies through the wreckage of another Cyleerin vessel. "Black Betty, thanks for handling the opening volley for us. Wyvern Squadron can take it from here."
Rico takes a solid swig of the proffered drink. He winces slightly as his eyes pop ever so minimally wider. "Thats...ehem, that's solid stuff," Rico nods, setting the drink down. ...and why would they attack them, I'd think that the Makava maintain the roads allows bandits to do their banditting... business?
"They’re not just raiding caravans, either. They’re testing the Makava settlements. Probing defenses. Burning crops. Stealing water. Killing scouts. I think someone out there is trying to break the desert tribes on purpose."
Here's the alias for my cohort! Didn't add any gear, wasn't sure how we wanted to do it. Otherwise he should be good to go. Just buy him gear as if he were one level lower than his actual level, that should be fine. I believe you said he was 5th level, so the 4th level amount of gear would be 6000 gp worth. you can use any portion of that amount and then just assume mundane gear without tracking it.
"Well, now that you mention it, I didn’t come to Albarra just to drink with my old friend Djack. Although I confess I did hope to find him here." He looks up, eyes darting between Djack and Amideo. "I came because the Makava tribes put out a call for aid." "You remember the Makava, don’t you? The stone-well people. They keep the old routes through the desert open," Rico says nodding nodding toward the southwest. "Raiders—real ones, not just starving bandits—have started hitting them from all sides." He ticks them off on his fingers. "Dust Reavers from the south. Red Knives out of the badlands. Even river pirates pushing in from the west." Djack doesn't remember much about the lands to the southwest, it had been quite some time since he and Rico had ventured that way. But he does remember that the Dust Reavers, a mixed group of refugees-turned-bandit from all parts of the Marches, and the Red Knives, a very hostile native tribe, hated each other.
Burlap's shots appear to go wide, but the particle beam manages to graze the oncoming fighter's hull, dropping it's forward shields and etching a line into its hull. At that instant, Joyride flies just under the oncoming fighter and does a tight loop about, angling the thrusters with a precision the best AI would be envious of.
"Friends from way back. Born in the same town, smaller than Albarra even. You might say we grew up together. And occasionally we got into some trouble together. Well, when I say that, I mostly mean I got into trouble and old Djack here got me OUT of it. If you know what I mean, your honor," Ricardo says, his laughter toning down as he looked at the serious judge's face. The food Rocko prepared surprises everyone, a bit. It's not as amazing as the regular cooks at the Mesa put out on a good day, but it's actually quite tasty.
"Hungry? You know it, my friend. Are you heading to dinner? I'll join you!" Ricardo walks with Djack to the Friendly Mesa, talking about his recent journeys. He's been in town about a couple days, and evidently had a run-in with Djack's band of civic-minded youth, The Lantern Bearers, which turned out to be a misunderstanding on both parts, each suspecting the other of nefarious intent. Djack and Ricardo laugh at the story as they enter the Mesa.
FYI, the first post of adventure 9 is up, but only Djack is currently in scene. No rush anyone else posting in-game as I know we're still deciding stuff about characters.
Juna 27 The late afternoon sun hangs low over Albarra, turning its adobe walls and red-tiled roofs the color of old copper. Wind carries the smell of roasting maize, dust, and horse sweat through the narrow streets. Bright woven banners snap between wooden balconies, and bells toll lazily from the Temple of the High Seven. As Djack makes his way toward The Friendly Mesa, a familiar voice cuts through the noise. "By salt and wind and The Seven, if that isn’t Djack Nymball himself." A man steps out from the shade of a building awning. He’s tall and lean, wearing a weather-stained cloak over light armor. A curved saber hangs at his hip, and a scarf is wrapped loosely around his neck. His hair is dark and flowing, his smile is unmistakable. Ricardo Gama. Old friend, and sometime rival. His grin widens as he approaches. "Look at you. Still walking humbly like an urchin on the street. I half-expected you’d be dead or rich by now."
Up to you. There's no problem with being focused if that's what you prefer to take.
I'll allow it if you decide to do so.
Approved.
A Handy Haversack is probably sufficient in volume for what you're looking for, and much cheaper than a full-on Bag of Holding.
If you'd like, I'll allow you to take a couple free ranks of Profession(Cook) instead of a trait. Certainly won't unbalance the game any.
Absolutely.
Certainly, it fits well thematically with the level we're at. Amideo hasn't exactly gotten in a ton of power attacks, so I'll allow the swap.
|