The inn was the sort of place the pampered might call "charming" with a derisive sneer as they passed on by, but Pathfinders were more practical than that. Especially when they must be. The directions included in your note were a bit obscure, seeming to double back on themselves along the bustling dockyards of Cassomir before reaching your destination. You pull the now well worn paper from your pocket and review it once more for good measure.
Pathfinders,
You have been selected for a team reporting to V.C. Hestia Themis in Cassomir. She will meet you at the inn my directions will lead you to, so follow them carefully. You'll know you've found it when you see this symbol.
A hand drawn sketch of a dove in blue.
If it were not for the nondescript sign painted in blue paint holding an olive branch in its beak, you could not be sure you'd found the place. The business simply proclaims itself "Inn" on it's moisture warped and weathered sign. The image of the dove looks curiously like graffiti, definitely fresher by comparison.
As you enter the door, you begin to notice discrepancies to the unkempt appearance of the outer facade. The interior is solid, though still simple. The main bar in the open common room looks as if it may be one solid piece of dark wood that has been polished so well it gleams in the lantern light. The place is less crowded than you might expect it to be as well with only a few patrons and one barmaid. She looks up and meets your eye as you enter, giving a polite nod.
Team - Alpha (or could name the teams?)
1)'Hellion' Svetlana Irriseni - Fighter 2
2) Li Shuo - Zen Archer/ Qinggong Monk 2
3) Jorag - Cleric 1
4) Frindlikh Ardig - Rogue 1
5) Otiophon - Paladin 1
6) Mujenbai Kayunga - Saurian Shaman 1
7) Marco Vail - Sage Sorcerer 1
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Team - Beta
1) Odo the Bold - Paladin 2
2) Dietrich Wenger - Fighter 1/Rogue 1
3) Selter Sago de'Morcaine PFS - Druid 2
4) Marla Gunddur - Summoner 2
5) Tanselle Bashar - Gunslinger 1 (Yes, the namechange is fine.)
6) Tresca Versei - Alchemist 1
7) Gaius Pellandir - Sorcerer 1
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Odo hesitated as he entered the common room of the inn, a bit surprised at the tidiness of the interior compared to the dingy exterior. But then a smile crossed his lips. He shouldn't have been surprised. He recognized the doubling-back in the directions was probably intended to obscure his path to any suspicious observer as a security measure. Of course the exterior of the inn would similarly obscure what was inside. This must be the right place!
The halfling slipped off his dark colored traveling cloak and hung it on a peg alongside his rucksack and a small, wooden shield, wiped his feet on the mat, and stepped into the common room proper. He called out to the barmaid, "Half pint of beer, please," as he made his way to a bench. His mail shirt jingled a bit as he sat down and he took care to keep the sheath of his scimitar from scraping along the bench as he settled in to relax with a sigh. He smoothed his red hair with a hand as the barmaid approached with a mug in an effort to make a not too unsightly impression.
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Fresh off his first actual mission as a Pathfinder, Otiophon travels the short distance from Absalom to Cassomir in a non-descript trade vessel, one of any number that ply the route between the two great trading cities. But to "Oti", as he is casually known, this great city is simply the "Crusader's Port" from which he could (or should?) be traveling the Sellen River north: North to Kyonin - his home country - and to the demon Treerazer; further north still to the The Worldwound...
If the mode of transport was nondescript, the same cannot be said for Oti, who arrives outfitted in shiny scale armor, a large wooden shield in hand, and with clothing and all emblazoned with holy symbols of Iomedae and symbols of the Silver Crusade. (Subtlety has not been a virtue.) Physically, too, he is a commanding presence: tall, dark hair, powerfully-built frame and arms, a deep voice, strong chin - persistently, unavoidably 'clean-shaven' - and eyes that are like burning coals.
As he finds the "Inn", though, there is something else about him - a light floral scent, perhaps roses or ...?
Striding up to the bar, Oti nods respectfully to the barmaid and orders a particularly potent tea known from his days as a junior member of the Greengold watch, something bracing and rejuvenating for mind and body, followed with a drink of water from a 'skin and, unwrapped from a wax paper bundle, several bites of a simple 'trail ration' consisting of small-cut blocks full of lards and dried meats and fruits.
While he waits, Oti occupies his time productively by perusing a newly-purchased "Blue Book" for Cassomir, detailing the port city's seedier "brothels, burlesque houses, and gambling halls"...
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Cassomir, border town. Frindlikh crosses a street as he takes up the surroundings It's not Oppara, but at least it's the right country. To report to Hestia Themis, VC of the Pathfinder Society, Cassomir branch. A mysterious note with a blue dove on it, Frindlikh has been searching for its likeliness for an hour now. And I should know the streets. Off to a good start here..
As he finally finds the sign matching the note, he just sees an armour-clad aasimar step inside. Ain't that a sight. Blue doves and silver angels. Stepping inside, Frindlikh uncomfortably mutters G'day all.
Moving up the bar, he soft-spokenly orders just a beer, then, with a swift move, produces a dagger and starts removing the dirt from under his nails.
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Marco Vail's two years with the Society had been pretty much like his years without the Society - identifying magical items and passing on his analysis. There's just been more items to do, more paperwork, and less stress than running his father's shop into the ground. It's not what he imagined of the Society, but, whether he was paying his dues or whether he'd fallen into some rut after his induction, it at least put food on his table and a roof over his head. And if there was more travel like this in the future, it might be like an adventure. He wondered why these items he's been sent to catalogue weren't sent to Absalom like the rest. Or maybe he's been reassigned - maybe the Society has inventory clerks all over Golarion, and they figured he'd fill some vacancy in Taldor, since it's his home country.
Following the directions faithfully, he realized the roundabout path that the directions took him when he arrives at the inn. Hmmm... I wonder if the Venture Captain's memory of Cassomir is a bit distant, or if he's so used to intrigue that he feels it is required on even the most mundane assignments?
The slender, olive-skinned sorcerer takes off his backpack and leaves his travel gear by the door. He finds a table in the corner and leans his longspear against the wall. He unstraps his crossbow and quiver, setting them on the table, and then stands at the bar to order an ale to bring back to his table to watch for Venture Captain Themis.
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I large 'man' walks into the common area with a long thick bodied snake draped over his shoulders. It would probably be serious load for most people but he seems to carry it without too much trouble. His skin is covered with fine green scales with some black highlighting along the sides of his face and arms. He is dressed simply in hide armor and carrying a spear with a club hanging from his belt.
He mutters to himself, Excccellent! It doesssn't sssmell nearly asss bad asss ssselvesss expected from thessse mammalsss doesss it darling.
He walks over to the barmaid, Perchanccce would you have sssome sssmall rodents for her sssnack?
Ssss….
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The paladin doesn't flinch at the arrival of the reptilian man or his snake - or their choice of meals, which is a certainly a positive service in most towns! - as he has lived in Absalom for a several years now, but he has never seen the like before.
Oti nods respectfully to to each of the new arrivals.
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A tall powerfully build Garundi, with skin dark enough to appear truly black in the shadows enters the Inn nose wrinkled in displeasure. Glancing about he sighs and gives a small piece of paper a malicious scrunching before thrusting it into a pocket.
As the door swings closed behind him he catches it and rumbles, "Unapp, come."
A small creature, dressed in fur covered leather armour with a pair of fox-like ears attached to the head piece enters. A second glance reveals scales and tiny forelimbs, as well as powerful claws. It glances around nervously and stays close to the Garundi as he strides forward to the barmaid,
"Lady. I seek Hestia Themis, do you know this woman?" As he speaks his eyes scan the few patrons appraisingly.
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After making port in Cassomir, Tanselle spends a few hours seeking out some odds and ends - oil for her pistol, a dozen more lead bullets, maybe another few paper cartridges. Despite the city's size and status as Taldor's shipping hub, she has a difficult time finding supplies and what she does find is priced far beyond what she'd consider fair.
Considering the note in her hand, Tanselle decides a taste of the local fare and a glass of wine will have to do. Entering the inn, she takes a seat at the bar and motions for the bartender.
"A glass of wine, light and sweet," she says in her accented Taldane. "And a bowl of the stew, there, the one on the board."
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Dietrich steps off the ship and breathes a deep sigh of relief.
Blasted ships! After my last trip, I hoped to stay in Absalom for awhile. I'd almost prefer magical transport!
He heads off to find the sign of the dove. On the way he handles the Wafinder he purchased before leaving the Grand Lodge.
I guess I ought to start looking like a Pathfinder, a little.
He also picks up some masterwork thieves' tools on the way, in case he's asked to pick a lock.
He sees the serpent-man and the half-elf enter the Inn, and follows.
As he pushes the door open, the other patrons see a tall, burly man with short brown hair enter the room. He wears a slightly sour expression and has heavy stubble on his chin. He wears a slightly battered breastplate and carries a number of weapons, most notably a big woodsman's axe slung on his back.
He speaks to the bartender:
"I'll have coffee if you have it."
The woman behind the bar looked to be a local, and long accustomed to suffering all manner of fools and whatever else might come her way through the ports of Cassomir. She wore a sleeveless frock that prominently displayed the shapely, thick biceps she likely developed over a long career of lifting laden trays and polishing the handsome bar, plus a modest amount of cleavage.
She smiled at the Halfling knight as she passed him his beer,
”Welcome to The Bluedove’s Perch. Are you one of the group that has half our rooms reserved?”
As another armored gentleman came through the door, she smirked in a self-satisfied way which turned to a genuine smile as he drew nearer. But her brightened mood wavered a little when he ordered tea but she maintained her smile.
”That will be just a moment then.”
She looked for a moment as if she recognized the somewhat unkempt man who came in next, but a second look seemed to satisfy her that he was not the guy she mistook him for, and the look in her eye as she shook off the thought made him glad that he was not. She fetched him his beer without a word and then ducked into the back to brew the tea.
She emerged a short while later, her eyes on the steaming cup on her tray and when she lifted her gaze to meet the next speaker’s reptilian eyes, she gasped in sudden shock and sent the teacup flying, spilling piping hot tea all down the front of her skirt. She then promptly swore up a storm that would do a longshoreman proud, backing away with her tray held in front of her. She gives the other Pathfinders expectant looks and then after a moment of nothing happening she straightens out of her defensive posture and sets her jaw at a determined angle, exclaiming.
”Oh no! No, no, no… I did not sign up for this!” She punctuates her sentence with the serving tray, banging it down on a table and then stomps off down the hall. The harsh sound of a voice raised in fear and anger and is soon replaced by the melodious tones of a trained singer.
Soon the woman returns, led by another now. Though smaller in stature, she was clearly the elder of the two.
She had long, diaphanous locks of bright blue that swam around her slender form and eyes like limpid pools. She glided forward with the grace of a dancer and placed her hands palm to palm and lifted them to her lips, bowing slightly before the great snake which towers above her.
”My apologies, Pathfinder. My name is Azura and this is my Inn. Marie was simply surprised. Clearly, I should have prepared her better for your arrival. Rodents tend to avoid my establishment, a point I pride myself on. But we have squab hens for dinner and fresh eggs. I can send out for something if those will not do.” She smiles warmly as Marie recovers the broken teacup, still looking anxious, but a bit embarrassed as well. After she clears away the mess, she goes to fetch another cup of tea and a bowl of stew.
Azura fetches the lady’s wine and fellow’s coffee as she answers Mujenbai’s question.
“Indeed I do. It was she that advised me of your arrival. I expect she will be arriving shortly. Would you care for something to eat as you wait.”
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She smiled at the Halfling knight as she passed him his beer,
”Welcome to The Bluedove’s Perch. Are you one of the group that has half our rooms reserved?”
Odo does his best to shrug off the awkwardness of the tea and rodent request scene, "Er, yes, kind madam. I believe I must be part of the reservation. I did receive an invitation and directions to this fine inn.
And don't you fret about the, uh, scaly gentleman. I've never seen his like before but I don't think we shall see any trouble from him beyond some uncommon dining practices."
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Instead of being called "Team Beta" could we be called "Gaius' fantastic band of altogether stellar gents and/or lady-gents"?
The inn's door swung open yet again to admit one of the aforementioned lady-gents. The half-elf who walked in could be politely described as petite and fair skinned, but it would be more accurate to describe her as scrawny, short and pale. Clearly, this pathfinder didn't go outside often for missions, and there was evidence of sunburn and windburn on her cheeks from the journey to Cassomir. She took her seat between Gaius and Tanselle, both of whom she favored with a brief smile.
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As perplexed as he was by the reaction of the first young lady, Selter was appreciative of the restraint shown by the second.
Apologiesss are not necesssary. One sssupposssesss ssself looksss almossst asss ssstrange and sssinissster to you, asss you folk do to ssself.
And yesss, a sssingle hen would sssuffice.
EXAMPLE:
[dice=Acrobatics]1d20+11 [dice=Attack w/ Rapier]1d20+6 [dice=Damage]1d6(+1 if flanking) [dice=Sneak Attack]1d6
I did move us to a new map, so you're probably still looking at the approach. I added links to the campaign pages so you should be able to see "Current Encounter Map" on your campaigns page as well as at the top of every Gameplay page so you don't have to wade through the posts to find the link.
Ok, noted for Tanselle.
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I did move us to a new map, so you're probably still looking at the approach. I added links to the campaign pages so you should be able to see "Current Encounter Map" on your campaigns page as well as at the top of every Gameplay page so you don't have to wade through the posts to find the link.
Great! That's the link I've overlooked. Thanks.
Sorry for my delays, folks! I'll get your updates posted within the next few hours. Been a lot of studying and writing to finish off my semester and we had a winter storm playing now-you-see-it-now-you-don't with my internet connection all weekend... >_<
Bad news is it isn't quite over, but the good news is my schedule will open right up by the end of this week and I can get back to moving us along at a faster pace.
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Just a quick note to say I have completed my finals and will be able to advance all my games soon. I've just spent more hours writing and studying than I did sleeping for the last 48 hours or so.
I'm going to slip into a coma now. Zzzzzzzzzzzz....
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Yeah, it is the most efficient because a Wand of Cure Light Wounds (for 750 gp or 2 PP) heals, on average, 5.5 HP per charge, while a Wand of Infernal Healing heals 10 HP per charge for the same cost.
Although using one is specifically mentioned in the PFS FAQ as not being an alignment violation, it still seems vaguely inappropriate for my good-aligned characters to be making much use of. After all, someone somewhere is casting an evil spell and making an item with it, and buying one would seem to have ramifications for good characters, particularly clerics of a good deity. I could see using a captured one, for example - using evil against its creators - but even then only in emergencies with my paladin... (All just personal role-playing considerations.)
Yep, its an RP consideration. My Pally wouldn't be wild on it, but then 'being miffed > dead' when push comes to shove :p A man has to be realistic after all. :)
Hope everyone is having a Happy Holiday Season! I'm relaxing posting requirements since I'm sure things will get busy for many folks. I'll continue to check in and update as often as the fates will allow. (Been having some internet and hardware issues)