“Where the f*@$ have you been?” Jerk hissed as Zu hopped lightly into the covered wagon. “The moon is starting to set!”
Zu shrugged. “Those lumberjacks were having a good time. I followed them to three taverns.”
“Did they notice you?” Aesop asked.
“Maybe. But they seemed pretty drunk.” Zu snuck a peek at the Seven’s Sawmill. “What’s going on?”
Sandoz yawned. “Absolutely nothing. We think everyone’s gone home for the night.”
“Really?” Zu scanned the sawmill again. “Then let’s get going.”
Alton raised a hand. “I just want to say that breaking and entering is illegal.”
“Who’s gonna catch us? The Hellknights?” Jerk scoffed. “Relax: we’re just gonna look around – it’s not like we’re planning to kill anyone.”
***
“They do decent work here,” Jerk observed as he led the party past ropes and pulleys and stacks of lumber. Stepping carefully around the log splitters, Jerk then led the way up to a large workshop: handwork cluttered the tables, while tools hung neatly from hooks. There were three doors facing the party: the two on the left were closed, while the one on the right was open. Unfortunately, that door opened into a dormitory filled with bunk beds. As the party’s various lights shone into the room, one man snorted himself awake.
“What the…” the man blinked owlishly at the sight of five heavily-armed warriors (and Alton). “Who the f$!$ are you?!”
“Do not be alarmed,” Zu said calmly as more men began to wake. “We are the Red Hammers, and we wish to speak to the Brothers of the Seven.”
The man lunged forward and slammed the door shut. “What did he say?” “They’re the Red Hammers!” “Who are the Red Hammers?” “Aren’t they that adventuring company from Sandpoint?” “What the f~$+ are they doing here?” “What time is it?” “Where are my pants?!” “Boss! Hey boss! Some men are here to see you!” A few seconds later, the leftmost door opened and an elf in garish red robes stepped through.
Jerk hesitated. “Aren’t you…Justice Ironbriar?”
“Yes. And you are trespassing.” The elf narrowed his eyes. “Die!”
With an inchoate gurgle, Jerk clutched his chest and fell over.
Oh man! Talk about your cliffhangers! ;) I'm still here reading as well, and the story you tell is as fun as ever. I am surprised at the amount of restraint that your group has. I mean I think I would have torched the Misgivings no matter who it would upset.
Glad you're still reading! It's always fun to see comments from readers, though I hope we're not spoiling anything for you.
If Sandpoint was as dry as southern California (instead of miserably wet like Seattle), we would have torched The Misgivings in a heartbeat!
***
As Jerk pummeled his chest and tried to regain his feet, men in hideous masks and garish red robes charged from their dormitory and assembled beside Justice Ironbriar. Baltin took one look at his opponents and burst out laughing. “You’re going to fight me in your pajamas, armed with shaving razors?” The dwarf warrior slammed his waraxe against the fetishes on his tower shield. “Well slap my monkey and let’s get busy. Redhammer!”
It was a massacre. In fact, the only opponent who gave Baltin and the party any trouble was Justice Ironbriar. The elf dodged every attack and followed up every stab with a charm, every slash with a compulsion, and every blast with a curse. Shield high, Baltin circled Justice Ironbriar warily. “Your men are dead or dying. Surrender now, elf, and we’ll show you mercy.”
“I think not, you meddlesome miscreant,” the elf spat from behind his vertigo-inducing mask as he retreated into his bedroom. “It’s just a matter of time before your will crumbles and your mind breaks. Flee!”
Baltin sneezed as the compulsion washed over him. “You’d think so, but you’d be wrong,” the dwarf growled as he pulled on his fleshscale mask and assumed the form of the elf. “Yo Sandoz, is this b%+$$ glowing?”
The warlock looked down from his perch on the ceiling. “He’s as warded as a warpriest of Torag. Jerk, do something!”
“The power of Nethys denies you. The power of Nethys denies you. The power of Nethys denies you!” With a flourish, Jerk stripped away every spell affecting Justice Ironbriar. With a clang, Justice Ironbriar dropped his war razor and raised his hands in surrender. With a crunch, Baltin-Ironbriar buried his axe in the chest of Justice Ironbriar.
***
Alton craned his neck. “Justice Ironbriar?”
“He’s alive!” Aesop looked surprised.
“He’s alright? He’s not hurt?!” Baltin exclaimed indignantly.
“He should be dead – that axe would have split a log.” Jerk looked confused.
“I think there’s more to this elf than meets the eye.” Zu slashed open the garish red robes with his war razor.
Sandoz whistled appreciatively at the sight of silvery chain links. “Mithral. He’s full of surprises, this Ironbriar!”
Jerk nodded, and recoiled when he suddenly noticed the dozens of humanoid faces decorating the bedroom walls. Stretched over wood frames and carefully preserved, they grimaced and leered at the priest of Nethys. “Uh…I think we just found the murderers who have been stalking the streets of Magnimar.”
Yeah, torching Misgivings was my first idea also. However, we were informed that with the rains the wood was too wet to catch fire. Also, Father Aesop told us that burning the place down wouldn't necessarily cleanse the place. I was willing to give it a try, but oh well... =)
Well done as always Alex and Crew. I doubt there is any other campaign journal I have been reading that just makes me smile the way yours does.
Good one Alex, having Jerk bluff about the sword. ^_^
I can't wait to see how the next set of encounters goes.
I'm happy that you're enjoying this. Just one more post until we wrap up The Skinsaw Murders!
***
The party argued. On the one hand, Justice Ironbriar did attack first. On the other hand, the party did trespass on private property. Unable to reach a consensus, the party decided to look for more clues.
“Did you restart the waterwheel?” Sandoz asked when the others returned to the workroom after some time away.
“No. Some lumberjacks did.” Baltin said matter-of-factly.
“And…where are they now?”
“They’re dead,” Jerk sighed. “One fell into the chute that fed the log splitters when Baltin shook him off his shield. The other jumped into the chute when we tried to take him alive.”
“Really?” Sandoz tsked. “That’s too bad.”
Jerk did a quick count of the surviving lumberjacks. “Uh, didn’t we take seven of them alive?”
Sandoz nodded. “One untied himself. I had to put him down.”
“The elf?” Baltin asked hopefully.
“Still bound and gagged. Sorry.”
The party started arguing again. Just when it seemed like the others would follow Alton and turn Ironbriar over to the authorities, Zu suddenly walked into the room with a face in his hands: “Does this one look like me?”
Alton paused. “From a distance. But he looks more Chelaxian than Shoanti.”
Zu turned to his cousin. “Aesop, does this look like my father?”
The priest of Sarenrae blinked. “A little. But I haven’t seen him in years…”
“Right. Jerk, when did these murders start?”
“Three months ago…” Jerk began to smile knowingly. “How old is that face?”
Zu tossed the face to Alton. “At least ten years old.”
Alton sighed, and nodded with resignation.
***
“I can’t believe they didn’t arrest us,” Alton said to Jerk as watchmen descended on the Seven’s Sawmill.
“Why would they arrest us? Sergeant Moran there just solved the mystery behind many of Magnimar’s murders, old and new.”
“What about Justice Ironbriar?”
“What about him? I’ll no doubt be asked to testify that the former Justice was a traitor to the city. But the good Sergeant agrees that paperwork can wait until morning, since he knows where I can be found.” Jerk looked smug.
“At the estate of Gaius Scarnetti?” Alton said accusingly. “So what now?”
Jerk yawned. “Zu wants to follow through on a hunch. Better gird your loins, because we’re going to the Shadow.”
Mwahahah!
Time for some fun.
I eagerly await the next installment, after said conclusion.
And the commentary that is going to ensue once you move on to Chapter 3 should be most entertaining.
We just retook Fort Rannick. As Father Aesop's player says: dem ogres just ain't right!
***
Two hours before dawn, on the first Toilday of Neth, 4707 Absalom Reckoning, Jer’kles Scarnetti discovered to his surprise and great shame that he was, in fact, abjectly afraid of dying. Earlier, when a monstrous scarecrow cracked his ribs with a mighty swat that sent him sprawling against the walls of the ramshackle tower known as the Shadow Clock, Jerk experienced a moment of doubt. Later, as he flung himself away from a massive bronze bell that destroyed the stairs and support beams around him, Jerk felt a flutter of trepidation. But it wasn’t until after the party had reached the summit of the Shadow Clock that Jerk truly believed that he was going to die.
“Who’s next?” The flying marilith cooed as she flicked Alton’s twitching body off of her longspear. “How about you, big boy? Xanesha can dance all night – can you?”
Jerk flinched, and called down a series of tiny falling stars to cover his retreat. “How’s Baltin?”
“Alive,” Aesop muttered as he rushed to heal Alton. “But I can’t keep doing this.”
“I think I weakened her with that nerve strike,” Alton gasped as color returned to his cheeks. “We can do this!”
Jerk stared at Alton incredulously. “Are you f*#+ing insane? She’s putting up spells as fast as I can take them down, and she seems resistant to magic missiles. We can’t do this!”
Baltin coughed and spat blood. “We have to do this! The only way off this roof is through her. We need to lure her down and kick her ass.”
Zu nocked another arrow as he ran by. “I make small talk, but she keeps trying to skewer me! Are we going to do this or not?
“You! Pretty boy!” Xanesha pointed a manicured finger at Alton as she soared lazily after Zu. “Run this Shoanti down, and I’ll keep you like a pampered pet.”
“Don’t even think about obeying that suggestion,” Jerk warned the unsteady aasimar as he leveled his fireball wand at the demoness. “Gods, I wish Sandoz was alive.”
And then, above Xanesha’s yowling, came an unmistakable drawl: “B#!&*, I will kill him myself before I’d let him turn on us. Kaleshak!”
***
Mayor Grobaras harrumphed his approval. “I thought she turned you to stone?”
Sandoz took a sip from his wine glass. “She did. But I’ll be damned before I let some woman have dominion over me. I recovered in time to hear her proposition Alton.”
Jerk dabbed his lips with a napkin and burped politely. “And then he blasted her straight up the, uh, snake. But I had no doubt that we would prevail.”
“You?” Alton sputtered in disbelief.
“That is to say,” Jerk amended as he pounded the choking aasimar on the back, “the tide soon turned in our favor. Xanesha was so distracted by Zu and Sandoz that she didn’t notice the rest of us pushing against the statue of the angel.”
“Oh.” The Mayor paused with his fork in midair. “That must be what destroyed the nearby tenement house.”
Aesop looked up in alarm. “Was anyone hurt?”
“None who matter. That was a joke, son.” The Mayor signaled for more wine.
Aesop laughed weakly; Jerk tried to make light of the situation. “So we saved you the trouble of tearing it down?”
“Exactly.” Mayor Grobaras winked. “You boys do excellent work: solving murders, destroying monsters – you did destroy Xanesha, right?”
“Oh yes.” Jerk replied. “She was in the middle of tracing out a dimension door when Baltin slid past her guard and buried his axe in her shoulder.”
“Redhammer!” Baltin pumped his fist, and reenacted the scene with a carving knife and a suckling pig.
“Redhammer!” Jerk acknowledged. “And that gave Sandoz all the time he needed to blast through her faltering defenses. I think the city watch still has her body in cold storage.”
“Hmm. Remind me to have it destroyed – hangings are good fun; demon corpses not so much.” The Mayor raised his glass in a toast. “To good fun, and good friends. I thank you again for saving my life, and for pulling my city back from the brink of hysteria!”
Yasha0006 wrote:
Oh, and tell Aesop's player that I love his Sleep spell incantation...
"Await the dawn..."
Thanks Yasha, hopefully Alex will include some of the others. *hint*
Yasha0006 wrote:
Nice! Way to go Alton...and way to go Aesop. Bumbling characters add a wonderful sense of whimsical reality to games that I love so much.
Yea, everyone was worried about Baltin, but I saw it comin' my way. Praise to my cousin on that one or I'd have been nothing more than human hamburger.
oh yea, I am now on the boards as well. Greetings all.
This is good stuff. I've been lurking for a few months but haven't bothered to post until now. I like how the PCs have an interesting shared background and relatives all over Varisia.
Welcome to the Story Hour Father Aesop.
Lasciate Ogni Speranza, voi ch'entrate!
Nice one with Xanesha btw guys. They did an extremely good job on her as a villain for that adventure. One that could really take on an entire party of characters.
I can't wait to start hearing the Adventure 3 commentary...especially if you've already taken Fort Rannik back.
Yasha0006 wrote:
Lasciate Ogni Speranza, voi ch'entrate!
Abandon hope all ye who enter here? That seems a little over dramatic. =)
adversus solem ne loquitor
alea iacta est
una salus victis nullam sperare salutem
fortes fortuna iuvat
but seriously, why am I speaking in Latin? I'm Greek.
Sandoz, translations please.
Sandoz is as likely to understand Taldane as I am to understand Varisian. Hey Sandoz, Rosa was muttering this in her sleep last night; what does it mean?
Le bonheur suprême dans la vie est la conviction que nous sommes avons aimé, a aimé pour nous-mêmes, ou plutôt, a aimé malgré nous-mêmes
Good Chelaxian quote, Yasha, and welcome Michael!
***
I should have a new post ready by Wednesday. It's been hard trying to find a solid hour to write a story, but I'll be travelling for business and should have some downtime in the airport.
First, it means she's read Victor Hugo.
Second, it means she was with you, for which you should thank Sarenrae.
Aesop wrote: adversus solem ne loquitor
alea iacta est
una salus victis nullam sperare salutem
fortes fortuna iuvat
but seriously, why am I speaking in Latin? I'm Greek.
Sandoz, translations please.
No idea. I only recognised the original quote because it was in a nice little book I read about Hell.
Aesop wrote: adversus solem ne loquitor
alea iacta est
una salus victis nullam sperare salutem
fortes fortuna iuvat
but seriously, why am I speaking in Latin? I'm Greek.
Sandoz, translations please.
1)Do not argue against the sun (coloquial: Don't argue the obvious)
2)The Die has been cast
3)The one safety for the vanquished is to abandon hope of safety knowing there is no hope can give one the courage to fight and win
4)Fortune favors the brave
Personally I like: Illegitimis nil carborundum
The little voices in my head told me. =)
Rosa was nursing Emily when Jerk walked through the bedroom door. “Jerk! What a surprise! I didn’t expect you home so soon!”
“I left as soon as I was done, and rode through the night,” Jerk murmured as he kissed his wife and daughter. “What are you doing in bed? Sarenrae services are almost over!”
“Emily was fussing all night, so we decided to sleep in. Did you pass your exams? How’s your nonna?”
“Nonno is fine,” Jerk corrected, “and my Devotionals went well. Dean Talamas really liked my dissertation on applied thaumaturgy. But he wants me to start attending classes on a regular basis.”
“Is that a bad thing? I mean, isn’t that why we’re moving?”
“Er, yeah, about that…” Jerk began to unbuckle his breastplate. “I have some good news and some bad news.”
Rosa frowned. “What’s the good news?”
“The Church would like me to enroll at the Acadamae. They even offered to pay for my tuition.”
“Really?” Rosa offered Emily the other nipple. “What’s the bad news?”
“The Acadamae is in Korvosa…”
“Korvosa?!”
“…and the semester begins in Abadius.”
“So soon?” Rosa looked bewildered. “What about our claim on the Foxglove townhouse?”
Jerk sighed. “Still stuck in probate.” He watched Emily suckle quietly for a while, and then joined his family in bed. “So what do you think? Will you come with me?”
Rosa looked at Jerk in surprise. “Are you actually waiting for my input?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t I always?”
Rosa snorted, and lowered the pitch of her voice: “‘Rosa, I just bought us a sawmill, and need you to sign this.’ ‘Rosa, the boys and I are gonna help Sheriff Belor with something. Be back soon.’”
Jerk scratched his chin in embarrassment. “Alright…maybe I’ve been a bit vague about, you know, adventuring. But I’ve had an epiphany: adventuring is dangerous. I didn’t like it when that demon b%%#$ was pushing us around, so I don’t wanna push you around.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yeah, I mean it. I wanna do what you wanna do.” Jerk paused. “But I really wanna go to Korvosa.”
Rosa rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll go. But we’re keeping this house, and we’re coming back if I don’t like it there.”
“You’ll love it there, I promise.”
After a moment, when Jerk didn’t immediately turn around and fall asleep, Rosa asked playfully, “Is there anything else on your mind?”
“Yes. No. Well…we’re leaving this Oathday.”
“What?!”
“On a riverboat. With Baltin’s mother. And we need to make a slight detour near Ilsurian, so that she can drop off some supplies for some rangers.”
“Didn’t you say that Magnimar would never recognize Baltin’s claim on that ‘lost monastery of Torag’, because it would be like spitting in Korvosa’s eye?” Rosa asked Jerk as they waited for Grandpa Gaius to get dressed for dinner. “What changed? Did someone move Falcon’s Hollow without telling us?”
Jerk shrugged. “I dunno. I’m no ambassador, but it doesn’t add up.”
“Who’s an ambassador? Baltin?”
“Nah, it’s his mom. I don’t think he wants to go home, but what are you gonna do? She came, signed some papers, and now they’re leaving.”
“So whose chateau will we be staying at?”
“Hers.”
“And whose idea was it to vacation there?”
“His. He invited everyone: you, me, and the boys.”
“Won’t she mind having a bunch of humans stay there?”
“Nah. We’re practically family. Besides, she likes looking at Alton.” Rosa smiled dreamily, but then Jerk cleared his throat. “The trip from Magnimar to Turtleback Ferry to Janderhoff should take less than two weeks.”
Rosa frowned. “That’s not much of a vacation, if we want to make it to Korvosa before your classes start.”
“The entire trip will be a vacation! I’ve heard great things about Whistledown and Ilsurian – you’ll see.”
***
“I am Helge Redhammer of Janderhoff, Ambassador to Magnimar, here to deliver supplies to Fort Rannick.” The ambassador looked magnificent, with robes of gold brocade, a scarlet rod of office, and a half-dozen dwarven warriors arrayed beside her. The effect was only slightly diminished by the overcast sky and the threat of rain. “And who might ye be?”
The human hunter gaped stupidly. “Ye be…I mean, I be…I mean, I am William. Did you say Fort Rannick, your majesty?”
“Milady will suffice, and I did say Fort Rannick.” The ambassador pierced the hunter with a stare. “Why?”
“Well milady, we haven’t seen rangers in weeks, not since it started raining. Mayor Shreed sent some men to the Fort three days ago, but I don’t think they’re coming back.”
“Right.” Ambassador Redhammer squared her shoulders, and began issuing orders: “Harsk, find us lodging – we may be here overnight. Baltin, find me Mayor Shreed – I want to know more about Fort Rannick. Alton, go get my umbrella – it looks like rain.”
Rosa clutched Emily to her chest. “What should we do, milady?”
The ambassador looked curiously at Rosa. “Just stay out of the way, dear – things may have gotten a bit…complicated.”
Hrm....how very intriguing. A very nice touch...personalizing the trip to include Baltin's mother and Jerk's family.
And Baltin's mother being a dwarven dame is just plain awesome. That is one of the things I like so much about Golarion. Even dwarven ladies should be able to use an umbrella. Any other D&D world and they would just put a shield over their head.
This situation should get interesting, what with what is afoot.
"Evil's afoot..."
"Thats becuase evil refuses to learn the metric system...otherwise it would be a meter..."
Sorry for the three week delay, but thanks for your comments. Our DM also liked how we brought our loved ones into harm's way. ;)
I have been consumed by work and family, so this story hour is turning into an story minute. That said, here are a few paragraphs -- I hope to throw up a few more paragraphs every day until I get caught up. Thanks!
***
Baltin Redhammer was a Decider. When the High Priest needed someone to “redeem” the lost monastery of Torag, he Decided that he should in fact listen to his father and be the one to force redemption on those wayward heretics. When that city clerk feigned ignorance about his claim, he Decided that it would in fact be a good idea to listen to Alton and file papers in both Korvosa and Magnimar. Eating, drinking, whoring, sleeping – Baltin found it incredibly easy to Decide to do whatever it was that someone else wanted to do. Thus, he was somewhat discomfited when Zu led the party off the road, through the woods, and freed a black bear from a trap.
“What should we do, Baltin?” Alton asked. “This bear is obviously trying to lead us somewhere, but your mother wanted us to go to Fort Rannick with all speed.”
Jerk spoke before he could respond: “Do you hear dogs?” And indeed, Baltin could hear dogs. A few seconds later, he saw them, too, with a deformed ogrekin loping along behind them.
“I’m huntin’ bear!” the ogrekin yelled. “Bear, git inta mah belly!” Zu retorted with an arrow. Baltin Decided that he should help rid the earth of an ogrekin. Less than a minute later, the dogs were down, the bear was safe, and the ogrekin was moaning on the ground.
“I’m going to use short words,” Jerk said in Giant as he thrust a tattered rag into the ogrekin’s face. “Where did you get these patches?”
“Rangers. We, we caught them near our home,” the ogrekin stammered.
“How many?”
The ogrekin counted his fingers. “Six?”
Jerk pushed his estoc casually through a rock. “How many still live?”
“Three?”
Jerk looked at Baltin significantly. “These are the insignia of the Black Arrows. Something has happened at Fort Rannick – we should rescue the rangers, assuming we trust his math.”
Baltin nodded, and beheaded the ogrekin. He had Decided to rescue some rangers.
We don't hear much about Baltin (he seems to always be in the background). I love the way you've portrayed him here, and can totally see someone playing him like that.
Which is funny considering that Baltin is pretty much in the forefront of every battle. He is the rock on which all their enemies break.
Ayup. Baltin's player has a tough work schedule, so at times he comes in when we've already started. A typical conversation may go like this:
Baltin's Player: What's going on?
Us: We're going room to room. You're taking point.
BP: I love this plan. (To DM: "I walk into the living room")
DM: You hear a click...<rolls dice> and a massive blade scythes towards your head, stopping only as it hits your tower shield.
Us: <cheering> Redhammer!
BP: Redhammer! (To DM: "I walk into the next room")
We really missed him last night -- we just started the Fortress of the Stone Giants, and his attendance is going to be spotty through May.
I can see it going something like this...
On a beautiful and thick piece of slate the words
"The Redhammer! Baltin "
Decider
Below would be the words...
"I Baltin, the Redhammer, am not a thinker. I do. That is what I do. I am a decider, I am a doer. REDHAMMER!"
Sometimes those kinds of characters are the most fun to play though. A fine set of armor, a fine set of morals, and a fine set o'things to kill.
omg, he's a pc; that explains a lot.
Redhammer, a fine tribute to Beowulf as any I've seen in some time.
"Kewl, I show up and I've got stuff to frag - gimmie my dice!"
Come now....Alex Y! I await the antics of the Redhammer Consortium!
Yasha0006 wrote: Come now....Alex Y! I await the antics of the Redhammer Consortium! I can't begin to tell you how much it irks Sandoz that he is referred to as part of the "Redhammers" =)
I'd imagine it does...
Sandoz just doesn't have the same ring though.
In case you haven't figured it out this campaign went the way of the Dodo. Mainly because our GM's schedule changed, but also because of a growing distaste for the 3.5 system on the part of several players.
Ahh...someone was lured away by the *Bling* of 4e huh? Too bad, I had been greatly enjoying this campaign. While in-person gaming is generally a no-go for me, please consider the possibility of online gaming via a Virtual Tabletop. Pygon, a long-time poster here on the forums wrote the code for one called TTopRPG and is a featured link in the Paizo Chatroom (where you will often find many of us). I also just recently finished running J1: Entombed with the Pharaohs with other Paizo notables Lilith, Pygon, Daigle, and Eyebite using the MapTool VTT application.
It worked pretty damned good. I would happily extend an invitation to explore that option with some of the folks around here. You guys are awesome roleplayers and there are lots of people here on Paizo looking for folks just like you guys.
Paizo Chatroom
Come on in and talk it over with some folks if the idea sounds intriguing. Most everyone in there are people that are devoted to trying and playtesting the PF Beta, so if you've not had a chance to play that yet, it may be a good opportunity.
Recent threads in Campaign Journals
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