GM Endless Forms' PFS City of Golden Death (Inactive)

Game Master Mike Tuholski

Hello everyone! Feel free to dot or make character introductions. Also remember to check in to the Discussion thread if you have not done so already. Thanks!

A young man, bedecked in a breastplate and bearing a shield fashioned with a symbol of Iomedae upon it, steps purposefully. Though holding all of the outward appearances of a saintly Paladin, a closer look suggests otherwise. Furtively glancing about the room, the young man keeps to himself.

Standing silently off to the side, you see a tall, dark human man with a dark weathered cloak and a longbow and quiver on his back. He has a habit of observing conversations, studying the comments made as if unaccustomed to civilized gatherings. If he speaks at all, he speaks with a thick Varisian accent.

"Greetings. I hope Zhis is zhe right place. "

Lore practically bounces in, her golden hued chainmail jingling merrily. She flounces up to Ignatius and grins at him happily, her violet-hued hair flowing around her in a cloud. "Hi! I'm Lore.. so happy to meet you! Blessings of the day on you and yours!"

She shares a similar greeting with Roland as well... smiling at him with unabashed glee at meeting him.

"Blessings of Sarenrae to you all on this wonderful day! I wonder what the Society has planned for us now!"

She is entirely TOO bouncy and friendly, lol... and will chat with the two taciturn men happily carrying on both sides of the conversations until someone else enters the room, at which point she greets them as well.

A dwarf, not entirely sure that he is in the right place, approaches you. He looks much like a child that is trying to do something without his parents for the first time. Ummm, hi. I was told that I can help ya.

“SHE SHOOTS … SHE SCORES!!!”

A round leather ball, about the size of a half-orc’s head and painted to look like a moon-shaped skull, soccers through the doorway towards the Inheritor’s Inquisitor.

Ranged Touch Attack on Ignatius DC13: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

This object is quickly followed into the room by a rather plain young Chelaxian woman wearing a black outfit, which anyone proficient with Heavy Armor readily identifies as the padded garment worn underneath full plate. She slides into the room on her knees, clenched fists held high with her face pointing to Axis with a triumphant smile on her face.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

Then she spots the priestess and squeeees as her smile widens even further. She gets to her feet, bows to the purple-haired gnome and with a serious expression holds out both her hands.

“Excuse me, Ma’am. May I have the pleasure of this dance?” If Lore agrees, Eadie performs an impromptu jig with her friend, which ends with a warm hug and much silly giggling.

“How have you been, Lore? Had a nice break? I spent mine cruising the Fever Sea hunting pirates. Don’t let anyone tell you the Shackles is warm. Uh uh. I almost froze my b…low me down! New people!”

Eadie picks up the errant ball and walks over to Ignatius. “Sorry about that. Are you OK? Oh, where are my manners? I’m Eadie, cheerful nihilist and cleric of Groetus, god of the end-times.” She holds up the leather sphere again. “Why so serious, sir? We’ve all gotta go sometime. Might as well have some fun before we do!”

She takes her leave of Iggy and strolls towards Roland. “Hey, Rowdy! There’s far too much noise coming from this corner of the room. I’m Paravicar Eadie Navhelan, Hellknight-Signifier of the Order of the Nail.” She points a warning finger at the ranger. “I’ve got my eye on you, Sunshine.”

August is next … “Eadie. Inquisitor of Shelyn at your service, Master Dwarf.” The young warrior mimes taking out a sheaf of vellum and a quill, which she holds at the ready. “I need you to tell me where you got that haircut, sir. I’ll organize a raid by a Songbird Flying Squad. Don’t worry, they won’t get away it.”

She calls over her shoulder to the servant of Sarenrae. “Do you think we can do anything to help the victim in the meantime, Lore?”

Roland raises his eyebrow at Eadie's entrance. He smiles and nods.

"Welcome to zhe group, Miss Eadie. You seem zhat you have many titles of zhe clergy. It also appears you have traveled with Miss Lore? Zhis should be an interesting mission to say zhe least."

Roland nods to August and Ignatius with respect as well, but without comment otherwise.

"I wonder if zhere will be any others to join us?"

With an imperious look, Eadie observes Roland from under hooded lids. “Thank-you, Sir Rowdy. I have found over-specialization to be of limited use to a Pathfinder agent. Do you concur?”

"It also appears you have traveled with Miss Lore?"

Eadie *deadpans* “Nope. First time I’ve laid eyes on her.” Before exchanging looks with Lore and giggling behind an open palm.

Ignatius looks incredulously at the strange woman that's bounded into the room. "Serious? How can one not be serious with the way the world is today? There is evil in the world. EVIL! And it must be routed out and brought low by Iomedae's blessed sword."

He looks around, a bit embarrassed. "I apologize for getting a bit excited. But the infidels must be stopped - whether followers of Lamashtu or the Aspis Consortium. That's the principal reason I've joined the society - the Decemvirate seems to recognize the need to stamp out evil-doers! And I mean to be one of the boots doing the stamping."

Then, realizing that others may not have the zeal that he has, Ignatius nods at the others and keeps quiet.

Lore gasps in surprise as Eadie enters, and when Eadie grabs her and whirls her into a few steps of a dance, she does her best to keep up with the complex footwork of the jig, giggling happily while doing so.

When the dance is done, Lore gives Eadie a big hug. "Hey there, 'lil sister.... so GOOD to see you again." She listens to Eadie's introductions with a big grin on her face, her eyes twinkling... Eventually and claps her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

When Eadie says they've never met before, Lore breaks out in a fit of utter laughter, almost falling over onto the floor, her face turning red as she gasps for air.

Then she steels her will and grows as serious as she can, pursing her lips and breathing deeply. She looks at Ignatius and walks over to him after she catches her breath. She stands right on his feet so she can be taller and looks up into his face.

"Evil is real, and that's a fact, but no need to be so serious all the time... None of us here are evil, so relax and be sociable for a few minutes. I'm sure your goddess wouldn't want you to be so dour all the time. Now, cheer up Iggy, or ... or... or..." She screws up her face as she contemplates a truly gruesome punishment for the serious inquisitor. "Or I'll... um... dance... no! ...I'll have Eadie dance naked for you... and trust me, you don't want that!... unless..." she wiggles her eyebrows at him suggestively. "Maybe you would?"

Then she grins at him mischievously and steps back off his feet, gives him a jaunty salute and flounces back over to a comfy seat and climbs up onto it, passing Eadie on the way, giving her a high five on the way by.

Ignatius nearly drops his shield at the lurid dance that Lore is suggesting. Though his face reddens, Iggy retorts back to the gnome, "Cheer up!? My good little-person, there will be time to cheer up once I'm back in the loving embrace of sweet Iomedae - after proving myself through a lifetime of humble service of quashing all things wicked on Golarion."

"But perhaps you're right..." Ignatius' stance relaxes a bit, he even leans to one side against the wall. "But not about the dancing! No, we are all here as loyal Society members. Perhaps a drink is in order. Cranberry juice?" Iggy tries to find a servant that could help him.

"Make mine a cranberry martini and you've got a deal!" Lore says matter-of-factly. "You really need to lighten up more, Iggy... you might enjoy a little lap dance. Life is for LIVING - and that includes a little recreation time too. You may have devoted your life to Iomedae and her causes, but that doesn't preclude a little fun now and again. Trust me, I'm a priestess - and not of Calistria either! I am sure yuor devotion and seriousness will be well appreciated when we are actually ON a task for the society, but right now is down time... chill a little. Be merry!"

You are not at all like the people I was doin' this adventurin' stuff with before... August looks lost at all of the new faces, then fixes on the inquisitor. Umm, sir? Perhaps I could just do as you tell me as it's needin' to be done? I'd feel better that way and you seem the take charge kinda guy.

"Make mine a cranberry martini and you've got a deal!"

Eadie holds up two fingers and twiddles them in Iggy’s direction.

"Iggy... you might enjoy a little lap dance."

Eadie *drops* the leather ball she’s been holding between upper arm and left side. “What’s a lap dance, Lore? Sounds painful. Have you ever done one, Roland?”

You are not at all like the people I was doin' this adventurin' stuff with before...”

“Well I should certainly hope not!” She laughs with Lore as she passes, returning her hi-5 before kicking the leather ball a little ways up into the air. With her tongue protruding slightly, Eadie bounces the ball off her head, thighs and feet, trying to keep it off the ground.

Take 10 Acrobatics: 10 + 2 = 12

Ok, I'm back from New Zealand now so let's get this thing going!

The familiar halfling Venture-Captain bustles through the back door of the Flaxseed Lodge and into the meeting room where the party has assembled. "Good! Good! You're all here!" Except whoever Tek decides to play, but that's ok. "And it seems you've all gotten to know each other already! Fantastic! Essential to effective adventuring, I've always said! Now, let's see what we've got here." Trotter looks down at his clipboard as he absentmindedly brushes some snow from his sleeves.

"Ah yes!" he looks up and addresses the assembled party as if beginning a lecture. "You may have heard that some agents previously went to the town of Kassen to participate in somewhat of a ritual dungeon-delve there only to discover that someone else had gotten there first and awoken the dark spirits within. Chasing down the culprits, the Society discovered that a woman named Iramine, a leader in the Cult of Razmir who calls himself the Living God, was behind it all. She had sent some of her followers to Kassen to recover two bits of a broken amulet that had been buried in that crypt. The cultists met Iramine in Tamran, the capital of Nirmathas, and she now has all three pieces of the amulet in her hands."

"Before the agents could find out exactly what she was doing by infiltrating her compound, Iramine hired a boat and with a large contingent of her followers set sail for the Isle of Terror, intent on giving the Living God all of the wealth of the world. You see, by combining the three pieces of the amulet Iramine has restored the key that Tar-Baphon himself had once used to access his treasure city, otherwise known as the legendary Xin-Grafar or the City of Golden Death."

"So you can see this could be disastrous for the region-and for the whole Inner Sea to be truthful-for if Razmir had such a fortune his power would grow immensely. I'm putting it up to you to chase Iramine and her Razmiri cultists to the Isle of Terror and stop them before they hand over the wealth of Tar-Baphon to the crazed Living God. You should be able to secure passage with Captain Walren, the dwarven captain of the flat-bottomed barge Black Mist in Tamran, the capital of Nirmathas; Captain Walren is a Pathfinder sympathizer and will be able to sail you across stormy Lake Encarthan in relative safety."

Trotter double-checks his clipboard and then places it back under his arm. "So, I think that's about it. Are there any questions before I head back to. . . well, let's just say before I head back to my own mission."

Ignatius relaxes as the VC Flaxseed gives the assignment. He answers the halfling boldly, "By the sword of the Lady of Valor, we shall bring this cult to a swift end!"

"What sort of land is Nirmathas, I'm afraid I have not ventured there."

Lore lofts a brow at the mention of the Isle of Terror and Tar-Baphon, shudders slightly when she contemplates actually going there... "Okay, so we go to Tamran, get a boat to the Isle of Terror, where we stop Iramine from accessing Xin-Grafar with the amulet. Sounds like a lovely lark." She smirks slightly, her final sentence dripping with sarcasm... then her demeanor and voice change as she asks the VC, "I'm sure IRamine and the Razmirans will pose their own threat, but do you have any idea what we might face on the Isle in terms of the 'normal' environment there?"

A tall, man with a hawkish nose stands in the back of the room, listening to everyone speak, his eyes never ceasing to dart around the room. Once Trotter has finished speaking, he steps forward. "I am Nikomedes Diogenes, investigator and loyal subject of Taldor. It is a pleasure to meet such qualified individuals for this endeavor."

Eadie watches the newcomer with a critical eye, but keeps her opinion to herself.

Bit of a fancy-schmancy. Could almost be a Venture-Captain!

She introduces herself politely, while thinking of a way to break the ice ... “I have oft heard the term ‘I do this for Taldor.’ Pray, do you know the origin of this term, Ser?”

♞♞♞♞

Eadie has a low curtsey for VC Flaxseed as she listens intently to the pre-mission briefing. She exchanges looks with Lore at the mention of cultists of Razmir, but stays silent until the Lodge’s founder is finished speaking.

“Venture-Captain, I have questions.”

“Our mission sounds like a race to explore a Lost City of Gold – pretty cool. But you mentioned a quest of your own … What is your quest?”

“Iggy likes cranberry. Lore likes purple. What is your favorite color?”

Roland lets his companions ask the questions as he listens intently.

At a pause, he will chime in with a question for the Venture-Captain.

"Zhis amulet sounds very powerful. Are zhere other groups zhat may be seeking it for zheir own purposes?"

"What sort of land is Nirmathas, I'm afraid I have not ventured there."

"Nirmathas and its bordering country Molthune have been at war for what must be centuries now. Molthune is more well-known for its classically-trained and highly disciplined armies (think Sparta), whereas the Nirmathi take a more natural approach to their warfare (every Nirmathi npc I've ever seen is a ranger).

[b]"I'm sure IRamine and the Razmirans will pose their own threat, but do you have any idea what we might face on the Isle in terms of the 'normal' environment there?"

"You shouldn't have too much problem getting to the Isle with Captain Walren's help. Once there, don't dally around too much; get straight to Xin-Grafar. What awaits you there I'm not quite sure; there haven't been many-or perhaps any-successful ventures there that have brought back useful information."

“Our mission sounds like a race to explore a Lost City of Gold – pretty cool. But you mentioned a quest of your own … What is your quest?”

"I'm afraid I can't speak to that at the moment. Special assignment from the Ten, you know! But I'm sure you'll be able to read all about it in my next Chronicle once it's no longer classified."

“Iggy likes cranberry. Lore likes purple. What is your favorite color?”

Trotter thinks for a moment. "Hmm. The color of old paper, like a well-worn book. What would you call that? Eggshell? Off-white? I'm afraid painting and colors are one area I'm not an expert in."

"Zhis amulet sounds very powerful. Are zhere other groups zhat may be seeking it for zheir own purposes?"

Trotter shakes his head. "As far as I know, we're the only other ones who know about its existence besides Iramine and her close associates."

Any other questions?

I can't think of nothin'. Do we go now? August just waits to be told what to do.

Does he mean beige? Eadie's open mouth reflects her horror. The great Venture-Captain Trotter Flaxseed’s favorite color is … BEIGE!?! But that’s sooooooooooo BORING!

Which reminds me, that Bold Strider guy had his protégé painting the outside of the Lodge off-white. Can’t wait to see how fast it dries!

I can't think of nothin'. Do we go now?

Eadie walks over to the humble dwarf. She smiles and says “August, one of the reasons Lore and I were being so silly before is because there’s a lot of fighting coming up. You and I are likely going to be in the thick of it, so it’s important that we look out for each other and work well together.”

“I'll buy a grooming kit and do something with your hair and beard on the trip to the Island if you like. Will you help me please, Lore? We might color it too ... What color do you think?”

She kneels to look the dwarf in the eye. “August, let me tell you something my old fencing master Vencarlo Orisini told me …"

"'Eadie, do not walk in front of me, because I may not follow.'"

"'Eadie, do not walk behind me, because I may not lead.'"

Eadie smiles again. “Just walk beside me, and be my friend.”

Niko listens carefully to Trotter's comments. "I can think of no other questions, at the moment."

Ignatius bows his head in appreciation to VC Flaxseed, "I think that information should suffice, thank you." He turns back to the others.

"Eadie, is it? I apologize if my zeal has offended you or Lore in any way - but I shall not apologize for my faith in the Sword that Shines in the darkness." The inquisitor's voice takes on a rapturous tone. "Do not fear - I shall prove myself to be a worthy ally for you all."

Ignatius then pulls out a small notebook from his backpack. "Now, before we depart, I hope we'll have some time to purchase some necessities - yes?"

"No more questions from me for now, though I'm sure I'll think of some later when it's too late." She smiles and shrugs.

Then she walks over to Niko with a little flounce in her step. "Hi.. I'm Lore... so happy to meet you, And this is Eadie, and Iggy, and Auggie and Roland... I'll be your designated healer on this trip... Glad you could join us. Nice gun! Is it as noisy as I've heard they are? I've never actually met anyone who used one before!"

August listens to Eadie with a look of doubt on his face, however the more he listens to what she says the more he seems to trust her. That sounds like a plan to me. I'll be by yer side every step of the way then! August seems to smile to himself, comfortable that he seemingly has found someone he can depend on to guide him in this new adventure.

So, we don't really hafta color me beard, do we?

Yep, you can make purchases along the way/as you head out.

Trotter nods and says, "Now, it's a true shame that I don't have time to share with you all of my knowledge about the City of Golden Death but I really am crunched for time, as you can imagine, so instead I'm going to have to lend you one of my Chronicles on the subject and you can do some light reading on your way to Nirmathas and across the lake."

The Pathfinder Chronicles state that the City of Golden Death was once a thriving metropolis called Kestrillon, a shining beacon of magical research. Tar-Baphon himself led an army onto the island, conquered the city, and renamed the city Xin-Grafar after the Thassilonian style. He stored his wealth there, protecting it with a nefarious trap.

Later, the Chronicles say, Tar-Baphon used the city as a base from which to build the Wizard-King’s Pit, a trap for the god Aroden. Tar-Baphon lured the Last Azlanti to the island in the hopes that he’d be able to force Aroden to descend into the pit. Aroden would then be sucked to the bottom and deposited on the Negative Energy Plane, where he would succumb to that plane’s energies. When Aroden successfully thwarted the wizard-king’s attempt on his life, Tar-Baphon was destroyed, though he would later rise again as the Whispering Tyrant, one of Golarion’s most feared nightmares. The Wizard-King’s Pit was never destroyed and lies open, connecting the lush, forested island to the Negative Energy Plane—a connection that, over time, has laid waste to the land around it and given the island its current name and reputation.

So, we don't really hafta color me beard, do we?

Eadie has a patient smile for the dwarf.

She waits for a reaction from the dwarf, before grinning. "I’m kidding, Auggie! I’ve got some tasteful ideas in mind, which will accentuate your personality, while de-emphasizing your … weaker features."

“You just wait and see!”

"Welcome, Niko. You will fit right in with zhe merry bunch zhat we are."'

Roland smiles at Eadie's attention to the dwarf.

"Zhis City of Golden Death sounds like zhere is much more zhan we are being told.
I do not like zhe description of zhis pit of god-catching. But how do you prepare for such zhings?"

"Eadie, is it?”

“It is!”

"I apologize if my zeal has offended you …"

“Never in life, my good Ignatius!”

She bows. “It sounds like the ‘Sword that Shines in the darkness’ will make a good partner for the ‘falchion that slices up bad guys in all lighting conditions.’”

♞♞♞♞

"I do not like zhe description of zhis pit of god-catching. But how do you prepare for such zhings?"

Eadie’s face turns grim. “With a strong arm and a stout heart, Ser Roland. And by the Lawgiver’s Hammer, with capable companions by your side!”

“And if that doesn’t work – I'd try ‘running away.’”

The dwarf looks shocked and starts to stammer a refusal to such a ridiculous notion but then realizes that the woman is kidding... maybe.

And why do ya keep callin' me 'Auggie'? My name's August! August Autumnwind!

Roland nods silently at Eadie's response then grins.

"Aye, you could be right. And we have Zhis saying in Varisian...when you are running from zhe bear, you only have to run faster zhan zhe dwarf. "

Roland slaps August on the shoulder.

"But by zhe looks of him, I do not zhink our friend August has had to run from much in his career, am I right? "

Eadie waits patiently for the dwarf to calm down before saying, “It’s a nickname, a diminutive, a moniker or pseudonym used between friends as a term of endearment. Just to be friendly-like, ya ken?”

“Lorelendral becomes ‘Lore’, Ignatius becomes ‘Iggy’, Nikomedes becomes ‘Niko’ and August CAN become ‘Auggie’, if you like. If you don’t like – no problem! Just let us know.”

Eadie recalls her training under the Master of Swords at the Grand Lodge, prior to taking Confirmation. “VC Farabellus must have really been endeared to me. All those different pet names he called me, at the top of his lungs too! Even when I messed up really bad.”

"Ah, Roland... running away is never an option, Eadie misspoke... At least not until the healer is clear and away," says the slowest runner in the party with a grin.

Eadie smiles at Lore, but is soon lost in in her own little world … an index finger resting on her chin.

Eventually she says “I can’t speak Varisian. Which is pretty sad for someone who grew up in Korvosa. I only know: Sí, No (took me a while to get that one) and ¡Ándale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba! ¡Epa!”

Man this group is great!

You finally make your way to Tamran and head to the docks, where nearby you see the welcome sight of the Black Mist, the flat-bottomed barg you will take across the lake, and its dwarven owner Captain Walren.

Captain Walren welcomes you aboard. "To Fort Landing? The Isle of Terror, huh? Well why not!"

The back third of the barge contains a cabin with cots for you and the small crew. Captain Walren employs a deckhand named Ewem, a Kellid who speaks very little Common and largely ignores you, and two other scurvy sailors. On board is also an old pirate captain known as Mabon the Destroyer, a bent, elderly man with gray hair, a gray beard, and a patch over a perfectly serviceable eye, who is kitted out in black leather and white lace.

He’s a talkative man, happy to tell a dozen stories about his glory days in the Arcadian Ocean, but he’s also one of the best boat pilots on Lake Encarthan and takes his job seriously. He works for Captain Walren because, as he says, “That surly dwarf saved my hide in Daggermark after I bedded the daughter of the city’s Captain of Horse! Had he not set fire to the inn and dragged me drunk and besotted with lust into the muddy streets, I might not be standing here before you today!”

True to her word, Eadie turns up at the docks on time(!) equipped with a grooming kit. She is dressed in the ‘pirate outfit’ she wore on a recent mission to the River Kingdoms, which includes cut-off navy denim pants, high black jack-boots and a blue-and-white striped sleeveless jersey, overlain with high-quality armor made of stitched leather plates. Her diverse array of weaponry is never far from hand.

As she waits to board, the fighter holds up her index and middle finger together like scissors. She grins evilly at August while making a *snip* *snip* action with her fingers.

Eadie greets Captain Walren respectfully with a low curtsey. “How do you do, sir? Eadie Navhelan – ship’s barber reporting for duty.”

Such a romantic story. *sigh*

“Oh, I bet all the ladies swoon when you tell that story, Mr Mabon.” Eadie gets to her feet and *rolls* her eyes behind the man’s back as she leaves the cabin.

Aid Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18

If Lore is cooking, Eadie will offer to help her big sis. “I was cook’s mate on a pirate-hunting ship on the Fever Sea, Lore! I made half-decent fish stew for supper – but burnt the breakfast fritters – and told everyone that I learnt everything I know about cooking from you!”

Eventually Eadie will hunt down August, Take 10 Survival: 10 + 7 = 17, sit him down and explain her plan to him.

If there's no cook aboard, Lore sidles up to Captain Walren and shyly offers "I'm a bit of a practiced chef... I'd be happy to cook for crew and passengers alike while aboard... If you'd allow, that is."

She blushes but still breaks out into peals of laughter at Mabon's tale. "You must be quite the ladies' man, Mr. Mabon, and good that you had such a friend as our good captain here, or you might be less of one today, eh?"

And to Eadie, "Fish stew is a start and hard to make well, so kudos my friend. And fritters are hard to make without burning... I'm impressed that you even tried them. Perhaps we'll make some for breakfast, and I'll teach you a few secrets I've learned."

She trots off to the cabin and picks a cot... something near the door so she can slip out to make breakfast early in the morning without waking the others. After stowing her gear, she heads to the 'bow' of the barge to watch their progress and enjoy the clean air over the waters for a bit.

Before boarding, Nikomedes answers Lore's question, going into great depth about the history and workings of firearms, unless cut short.

Once aboard the ship, Niko paces the boat, inspecting it workings and engaging the captain in nautical questions.

As the old tar begins telling stories, Niko nods politely, inserting a question now and then. "Mabon, do know anything of where we are going? Any rumors and such?"

Lore listens to Niko with rapt attention, she really does seem interested in the pistol and firearms in general as he talks about them... Especially their history.. She asks several questions about the workings as he talks about them, as she has no knowledge of engineering and needs many things clarified for her. When he is done to his own satisfaction, she gives him a broad smile and says, "That was fascinating, Niko... thank you SO much for your time and the benefit of your knowledge. Perhaps if there is time on our travels... or afterwards... you might give me a lesson or two on how to actually use one of these? If I need to, I'll buy or borrow my own if that's necessary... just for the lesson of course. I'm adequately trained with a crossbow, but I've never used a gun before. I think it would be fun and interesting to learn. And I promise I won't shoot my eye out."

"Fish stew is a start and hard to make well, so kudos my friend."

A little timewarp maybe? Back to the ‘80s! OK, maybe I don’t need to go back quite that far …

Eadie beams at her friend’s praise of her attempts at cooking. “It was a good group I adventured with in the Shackles, Lore. Though I missed you, Lhug and Grim. I even tried to get the Captain to name captured ships after you guys and my Aunt Alix.”

“Names like The Black Dragon, Ravenous from Kravenkus and In Service to Lore, but the Skipper wouldn’t hear of it.” Eadie pouts a little as she remembers.

The young Pathfinder chooses a cot near her friend. “Don’t be afraid to shove me hard to help with breakfast in the morning. Aunt Alix always had problems waking me and Lhug shook me so hard at watch-change one night, it left bruises – and I still didn’t wake up!”

“It’s so funny, Lore. The little break has made me happier to see you and continue the adventuring life again. I think sometimes we can take for granted the good things in our lives and we need little reminders of them from time-to-time.”

Roland take his turn on the barge deck, watching for the approach of the fabled city...or at least more likely pirates.

" I am sure zhe breakfast will be welcome as we may not have zhe time for zhe proper meals once we are within zhe city. "

He turns to August.

"So what are zhe sorts of missions you have seen, August?"

Ignatius keeps out on the deck for as much as possible - keeping an eye on the horizon. When breakfast is prepared, he tucks in to his meal with enthusiasm. "Lorelendral and Eadie - this food is superb. I can't thank you enough for this."

"These fritters remind me of the big breakfast we had before my older brother was accepted into the order of Iomedae's Paladins. My parents were so proud..."

After the meal, Ignatius returns to the deck. Within a few minutes, his is enjoying is breakfast the second time as he succumbs to sea-sickness and heaves his partially-digested food over the side into the water.

As he straightens up, his stomach emptied of its contents, he sheepishly turns to the others. "I'm sorry, that was not indicative of how delicious breakfast was. It's just that I don't do well on the water."

Lore reaches up and rubs Iggy's back gently to comfort him... "I wish I had a cure for seasickness... I'm so sorry you're feeling bad." She will wait with him by the railing, rubbing his back gently in a circular motion, which most folks find some relief in, at least until the heaves pass and he can relax a little and enjoy the clean pure air over the lake... for soon enough they will be in the miasma of the Isle and it has it's own dangers, she's sure of that.

Once Iggy is feeling a little better, she'll head back and eat a cold breakfast (the cook always eats last) and start cleaning up.

Mabon and the Captain seem pleased with the company and the offers to cook a decent meal, which they don't seem to enjoy very often.

"Mabon, do know anything of where we are going? Any rumors and such?"

"Oh, there's all sorts of nastiness on the island but I've never set foot on land there myself. Can't tell you much."

---

It takes some time but eventually you approach the island. Captain Walren and Mabon personally row you ashore in a small, barely seaworthy boat. Mabon spends the journey bailing water out of the boat and grumbling to himself about poor seamanship while Captain Walren calmly smiles and whistles as he rows. As the tiny vessel reaches the white sand beach at the ruins of Fort Landing, Captain Walren tells you that he’ll wait with the Black Mist just off the coast for 10 days. When you wish to be picked up again, you must build two fires far enough apart for the captain to tell they are a signal from you and not a fire belonging to the Razmiri cultists. Once you are all ashore, Captain Walren wishes them all the luck on Golarion and rows back out to his barge.

The ruins on the west coast of the Isle of Terror have come to be called Fort Landing, as they resemble an ancient keep and happen to stand on the shore at the best landing site for explorers arriving on the island from the west. A complicated maze of tumbledown stone walls surrounds a partially collapsed tower covered in arm-thick branches of ivy. Beautiful white sand layers the nearby beaches, ceaselessly blowing against the western walls of the ruins and sometimes forming drifts as high as 30 feet.

Just inside those walls, you can find the remnants of the Razmiri cultists’ first firepit—as well as the first evidence that the Isle of Terror isn’t friendly: two graves, shallow and ringed with stones have been dug near a wall, out of the elements.

Niko moves up to the graves and examines them. I wonder what poor souls lie here....

Pereption: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

"Well, they may or may not have been Razmiri cultists... but I hope they rest in peace regardless... Shall we press on?"

August can only stammer an assortment of phrases like 'I dunno 'bout that' or 'maybe that ain't such a good idear' as Eadie shares the "plan". Eventually, being easily persuaded by those he feels have his best interests at heart, he relents to her wishes.

Once of the ship, August simply follows Eadie and the rest of the party. Oh, how long ya think them fellas have been lyin' here? Oughta be more than that, shouldn't there be?

… he relents to her wishes.

Eadie pumps her clenched fists up and down excitedly and squeals in delight. “You won’t regret your decision, August. I promise!”

Craft (coiffure): 1d20 ⇒ 8

Eadie collects hot water from the galley in a wooden bucket, hums as she sharpens a cut-throat razor against a thick leather strop, before wrapping a piece of sailcloth around August’s shoulders. With her tongue sticking out, Eadie clips, primps and shaves the dwarf. Despite her best efforts, she nicks the side of his ear with her scissors: “It's nothing. Just checking you’re ... not going to nod off on me, August.” Yeah, that’s it!

Once finished, she will nod in satisfaction - but withholds a mirror.

✂✂✂✂✂

As Lore tries to re-enter the galley, Eadie blocks her way, handing the gnome a breakfast plate that the young Pathfinder has kept warming on the galley stove for her friend.

She points a finger back the way that Lore came in. “You’ve done quite enough this morning, thank-you Miss! Go and enjoy the morning. I’ll have one of the more dextrous boys help me with the cleaning up – Iggy, Niko or Roland probably. Now shoo!”

♨♨♨♨

Being quite confident of Captain Walren and Mr Mabon’s boat-handling skills, Eadie decides to bet her life by donning her black full plate before entering the jolly boat. “August, will you please help me?”

Eadie’s dark armor has a heart-shaped key embossed over her left breast. She twirls a golden cape about her shoulders which features expertly stitched appliqué of a fiery angel, golden key, antlered longbow and blood-soaked rose. The feathers in her black helm are also gold and match the linen tasset that hangs from the front of her belt, which contains a number of stubborn stains.

Eadie’s new belt has a brass buckle that features the dour face of a gigantic Construct.

Once on shore, Eadie says a short, silent prayer to the Master of the First Vault over the graves of the fallen souls, before replying grimly to August.

“Don’t worry, August. There’ll be more. These guys didn’t bury themselves.”

“Shall we press on?”

Eadie nods at the priestess. “What do we want to do about a marching order? Does anyone want to scout ahead a little ways? If you get into trouble I swear by Abadar, I will rush into the fray as fast as my legs will carry me.”