This is to hold a place for now. You can dot in here for tracking in "My Campaigns".
For a city founded upon bloody combat traditions, Tymon is surprisingly docile. Weapons are invariably peace-bonded, there is a lack of muscle-flexing machismo in the streets—even public disputes are scarcer than in comparably large settlements. Rule of law here is strong, perhaps, or else violent urges are simply sated vicariously through the famed Arena of Aroden.
Whatever the cause, little impedes the swift journey to Smine’s Weaponworks, locally famous as a place of business but secretly also a Pathfinder lodge. The sound of ringing steel and the withering heat of the forge through an open sliding door identify the stone structure as readily as its well-painted but soot-stained sign. Several apprentices work blades in various stages of completion, and at the largest work area toils a smiling dwarf: famed weaponsmith and venture-captain Holgarin Smine. He glances up under singed eyebrows, never missing a beat as he says,
“Ah. It’s you. A moment.” After putting some final touches on a spearhead, quenching it in water, and nodding approvingly after a brief appraisal, he unties his apron and opens the door into the adjoining building. Within a few minutes, Smine has set out refreshments such as bread and cheese in a much cooler kitchen.
“Forgive me for not asking about your journey. Love the details, but those can wait. Someone’s picking a fight—with us,” he divulges in broken sentences reminiscent of the staccato clanging of the adjacent forge. “You might know we’re committed to supporting Mendev. Important business, that. Worldwound expanding, wardstones failing. Not good for anyone. So when we send supplies north and they’re stolen, it gets our attention. And that’s been happening. Months now. Boat after boat heading up the Sellen, attacked, looted—always a few days out of Tymon. Now, River Kingdoms shipping isn’t always chancy; brigands on the water are nothing new. Not like this, though. And it isn’t all shipping. Just ours. Someone is targeting us.’
“It’s my job to get to the bottom of this, and I have a notion how. Been told you lot were just what I needed. So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re not just going to find these pirates; we’re going to flush ’em out. They want to hit Pathfinders? Pathfinders can hit, too. They’ll think they’ve got another soft supply boat, but the cargo will be you. Ready to fight.” He grins
before concluding, “You’re bait. But you’re bait that bites back.”
Smine looks confused at Belvica's odd speech at first, then smiles as he seems to understand.
"Now here's a real woman! Glad they sent you, my dear. A huntress is just what we need on this assignment. As for your friend's question..."
He turns to Xavian.
"We want to take them down, permanently. While you pose as the crew, they will try and rob you. You take them down and hunt down their hideout and deal with any others. Take out their entire operation. Anything else you learn, bring back to me. Who hired them, why they’re harassing us. That sort of thing.”
"If you bring back any survivors, they’ll probably wind up naked
in the arena, so your call if that’s mercy."
Xavian remembers quite a bit about the city of Tymon.
Tymon is founded on a tradition of gladiatorial combat, most famously in the city’s Arena of Aroden, where gladiators have vied for popular acclaim
for over 2,000 years.
Tymon’s ruling class is composed entirely of experienced gladiators who earned their status after winning 10 arena combats. Called “bloodied,” these gladiators have rights and privileges beyond any common Tymons. They alone are allowed to own property or bear weapons, and their word carries greater weight in court, almost placing them above the law. Tymon’s ruler, called the Champion, earns his place through combat as well.
In spite of the privileges of the “bloodied,” specialized laws grant some equity to others. The Law of Grievance allows anyone to challenge someone who has wronged him to arena combat. This carries across social ranks; if challenged by a commoner, even one of the “bloodied” must submit. Even the Champion’s position is not secure; through the Law of Succession, any “bloodied” can challenge him for leadership.
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"Aye," says Tristan to his halfling companion. "A city built on the idea of combat may prove exciting at first, but without the rule of law and the strong faith to bind it, such reliance on muscle and sinew can easily turn to ruin. Would that I had the time to join in combat in the arena, and show those god-fearing men what it means to be a Champion of the Inheritor!"
Tristan spouts such nonsense about might being right and protecting the less powerful for a while before realizing no one is listening and shutting up in an embarrassed silence.
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Heccan ducks his head under the door frame, late as usual to the party. The always dapper barrister is fanning himself and appears to be slightly sweating. Pathfinders! My apologies, really. I was able to wrangle up some legal work in this gods forgotten corner of the world and simply could not let the easy coin slip by me. Is it me, or is it intolerably hot in these so called River Kingdoms? So what better place to have a briefing than a forge? Genius!
Heccan flashes the group a wide grin as he makes his rounds to his old compatriots. Why if it isn't Tristan Zanderholm! Good to see you my stodgy friend. I trust the war against evil continues...Belvica! You are a vision! It really has been too long. Smiling he sits himself next to Xavian, nodding to the hafling rogue. I could not help but hear on my way in, we are to be bait it seems. Wonderful. Once again, not covered in the Society literature. Being dangled out as a golden goose, really. Please my good captain, is there any other way to find these miscreants?
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Tristan welcomes the sorcererous Heccan with a warm smile and a firm handshake. "Only doing my duty, I could never do any less." he says stoically.
"It seems this place has a "might is right" mentality. One wonders where they're sense of mercy or the care of the less fortunate falls in this place of arena combat."
Smine grins.
"Well, now that you're all here, I haven't got much more to tell ya. Spend the rest of the day in town. Act your part, maybe it wouldn't hurt to appear a bit incompetent or buffoonish, in case the pirates have any eyes or ears about, it could throw 'em off a bit. But that's up to you. Be at the docks soon after breakfast to meet your boat. Good luck!"
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Heccan bows his head in deference to Venture-Captain Smine. If I hear you correctly, my good captain, is that we have been given license to troll about town, boast about our wealth and accomplishments, have too much to drink, and generally act like a pack of jackasses. Well I do not know all about you all but I usually do just that every Fireday. Tristan has always refused to carouse with me, but it looks like this time its an order my stodgy friend. Heccan laughs audibly and chucks the paladin on the shoulder. Now you'll get to see what Belvica and I are on about before we stumble in at dawn.
Heccan starts for the door. Oh, do not worry sir, I will not be fully into the cups this time, but I think I can fake it rather well. Xavian, perhaps you should shadow us as we play the pack of fools and see if those keen eyes and ears of yours pick anything out of the Tymoran masses.
Heccan leaves and engages in conduct just as the captain suggested. He leads the group to several spots, makes a show of buying drinks and generally acts the part of the boisterous ass, though admittedly he does not too much acting to get there. He uses his natural affinity to uncover information from people to determine the tavern most likely to have nefarious patrons. He leads the group there and buys drinks for everyone, ensuring the barkeep gives Tristan the biggest mug of ale he or she can muster.
He speaks loudly to the paladin as the ale is placed before him, making an show of slurring his words and speaking loudly. Here you go, you old sailor! Can't *hic* can't have my captain of the guard, the only one capable of protecting my embarrassingly large store o valuables, be the only one not drinking. Its such an easy run, I am sure it will be smooth sailing, so drink up! Fffrankly, I could care less if we are late. Those edgy Pathfinders will jusst haf ta wait! Heccan takes a swig of wine and motions the barkeep for another, and continues to make a show of it, being careful not to drink to get drunk, but enough to make the appearance he is tying one on.
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Tristan looks around, a bit uncomfortably. The falseness of the show makes edgy, but also understanding that it's needed to draw out the bad guys, he takes on the role, but not very well or capably.
"I think I will have that drink, master." says Tristan woodenly. He gulps back the drink feeling the fire-whiskey burn his throat on the way down. AFter his second shot, his hands begin to get tingly and his vision begins to close in.
Soon the poor paladin is staggeringly intoxicated.
The ruse is complete, as Xavian notices a pair of tough-looking figures paying an unusual amount of interest in the team.
You retire to a nearby Inn, and pass a peaceful evening. After this, you head out to the docks to meet your boat.
You meet the vessel, Tevryn’s Terrapin, and its mistress. The pilot is a thickset woman of Taldan heritage approaching her middle years. She introduces herself as Demeliah Sorhenson.
"Well met, Pathfinders. It's a pleasure working with you folks. Smine's filled me in on the plan. You can count on me to steer this tub, but I'm not getting paid enough to stick my neck out in fight. I guess that's your job! Anyway, we can leave just as soon as you're ready."
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Hung over from a hard night's detective work, Tristan is already feeling queasy when he sees the boat they are too ride. "I don't even want to talk about the last time I rode in a boat." he says. "In Tian Xia, we kept getting attacked by threats on the shore and on the water. Thought I was going to die for sure."
But," he says, steeling his nerve and his stomach, "there's nothing for it now. We have a missino to complete. I will ride for the glory of Iomedae and the Silver Crusade!"
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Heccan rejoins the group in the early morning looking rather refreshed. He cautiously boards the Tevryn's Terrapin clearly inspecting the vessel as he does. Through a barely noticely strained expression with a quirked brow, Heccan addresses the captain A...fine vessel captain. On behalf of the Society, I thank you in advance for your service.
Heccan walks over to where Tristan is seated and cannot help but smirk as he sees the familiar signs of a hangover on Tristan's face. He speaks a touch loudly Good Morning, Sir Zanderholm! How does the morning find you! I must confess I rather enjoyed finally getting you to a tavern or two, and this morning makes it more worth the while. You are a noble warrior Tristan, and your sacrifice is duly noted. He grins and walks past him to where Xavian is situated. And good morning to you Xavian, I was so enthralled in my ruse last night that I failed to notice the reaction of the crowds. What do you think? Did our little charade work? Did we attract any unsavory characters?
The first day of travel proves uneventful as Tevryn’s Terrapin meanders upriver.
The second day begins much the same. By early afternoon you reach a bend in the river.
The droning of frogs, insects, and birds along the riverbanks creates an atmosphere fit for dozing, even though the sun is barely past noon. Directly ahead, the river twists to the east for a bit before rounding a forested hummock. A splash breaks the monotony of sound as something slides off the marshy banks and into the water.
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Struggling to keep his breakfast inside after a night of carousing added to the rocking of ship, Tristan is deep in contemplative prayer rather than keeping a sharp eye out. He is a bit startled by the shout of the dwarven ranger, and is slow to draw out his bow. But after a moment to steady his hands, he fires a true shot at the approaching target, wounding it slightly.
Belvica sees the gator swim for the raft, but her hurried shot flies over its head! A few moments later, a smaller boat rounds the bend. A handful of humanoid figures are on board!
-Posted with Wayfinder
-Posted with Wayfinder
As the gator and boat close in, it is obvious that a fight is on! Heccan moves first, casting his protective spell. Aboard the boat are five figures, four humans with a halfling who looks like the leader. The halfling casts a spell, glowing around her skin. Belvica and Tristan shoot at the gator, but only Tristan hits!
Round 1:
Heccan: casts Mage Armor
Scallywags (2): holding
Halfling: casts spell
Gator: swimming towards you
>> Xavian
Tristan: shoots at Gator and hits!
Belvica: shoots at Gator and misses!
Sailors (2)
Heccan is doubly protected, and Xavian's first arrow hits the halfling!
The sailors ready their scimitars for boarding!
The two soldiers shoot longbows at Xavian and Tristan!
Both shots miss!
The gator reaches the Terrapin, and the halfling begins casting another spell.
Round 2:
Heccan??
Scallywags: shoot and miss!
Halfling: casting again
Gator: swims
>> Xavian
>> Tristan
>> Belvica
Sailors
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Heccan spies the hafling in the midst of casting and once again calls upon his own infernal power. His eyes narrow once again and his voice let forth a low caustic rumble of sounds that barely resemble words. He lets his hands fly and releases the dark force, two objects of force that launch with velocity at the halfling caster.
MM cast at caster level 3.
Perception 1d20+6 +2 if forest terain
Belvica whips out her darkwood composite longbow and fires an arrow in the direction of the alligator 1d20+6
"Gatsor!" says Belvica while nocking her bow.
Initiative 1d20+2+2 if forest
She then takes aim and shoots the animal with her bow 1d20+6 if hits does 1d8+4
Round 2 Recap:
Heccan: casts shield
Scallywag 1 (-6 HP): miss!
Scallywag 2 (unharmed): miss!
Halfling (-5 HP): casts spell
Gator (-4 HP): swims up to your boat
Tristan: hits gator for 1 damage!
Xavian: hits leader once for 3 damage!
Belvica: hits scallywag for 6 damage!
Sailors: toss grappling hooks and begin pulling the vessels together!
Tristan, Xavian, and Belvica all make their mark on the enemy. The sailors lob grappling hooks, and the two vessels are drawn side by side.
Heccan unleashes arcane energies, and further injures the halfling spellcaster. He recognizes her spell as summon nature's ally.
Round 3:
Heccan: magic missile!
>> Scallywags
>> Halfling
>> Gator
Tristan
Xavian
Belvica
Sailors
The scallywags attack with shotels (a type of sword) and cestus, one against Trsitan, the other against Xavian!
v. Tristan
v. Xavian
An single blade cuts into Xavian!
A giant centipede pops into existence right between Tristan and Xavian!
It bites at the paladin!
No good!
The halfling chants and a flame appears in her hand. She lobs it at Heccan!
The gator clambers over the very low sides of the barge, then bites at Belvica!
Round 3, now up:
Tristan
Xavian
Belvica