Best Story for Easter SingCon 2013

[Richard Loh]

Greetings, Pathfinders.

The days for the last three days of Pharast (March) has seen much activity, especially where the vile deeds of Tancred Desimire are concerned. What is also most worrying, is the appearance of a cult of Lissala in the midst of Magnimar. Why do they want the Runecarved Key? They mentioned that they slept for 10,000 years. What other evil is hiding in the shadows and biding their time?

Though the threat is temporarily over, we cannot allow such evils to exist or threaten our world. As such, I would like fellow Pathfinders to submit a report of their expedition in person, whether through writing or speech. Details of your exploits might help us uncover more clues as to our opponents' next move.

May your blades be swift
Sheila Heidmarch

A 1,000 word essay of the events which happened in the Easter SingCon 2013 which you have personally participated is a must.

GMs, if you wish to participate, please feel free to write a story from a 3rd person or from a NPC or a monster's perspective.

Please list down the following items.

Date played:
GM:
Scenario played:

Actions are also allowed in the word account. (In other words, you can describe the character's actions as he recounts his tale, BUT... the emphasis is on the story told.)

Closing date of submission is on the 30th April. Winner of this report writing will get a boon of your choice.

EDIT: This is creative writing, so feel free to write a story, either as a player or as a GM! No restrictions!

[eryda]

O. M. G. I have to do a 8k word essay already and now I have another 1k creative essay to do. *Cries*

EDIT: A slight clarification query, please.

If we(I), played as well as GM'd, how would you like for me to write a review? Cover only one aspect or both?

[tyrellian]

Fantastic idea guys! Now to pick a story!

[mort]

A Mort's Tail

Date played: 31/03/2013
GM:Terrance
Scenario played: Race for runecarved key



We were standing at Serpent's run coliseum. It was packed full to the brim with people from all walks of life, from intrepid adventurers hoping to make a quick buck, to wealthy merchants eager to witness the thrill of blood sport. My collegues, Anferno, Nickolai, and Venino had been sent by the Pathfinder Society to raise funds for the runecarved key. Some of our earlier adventures had involved missions of a dubious nature, such as climbing up a wizard's tower to find incriminating evidence to "encourage" her to drop out of the auction, wrecking up a wererat's dens and to move smoothly through political and social intrigue. I was distinctively uncomfortable. Afterall, my studies only took me to study about nobility, and not interact with them. Most of them anyway, they were a bunch of butterflies without a brain in their heads. My colleagues excelled in those settings, making good on their various skills to climb a wizard's tower, steal the lockbox and literally tumble to the ground without taking a scratch. Between the 3 of them, they managed to cow a slippery Halfling into dropping out of the auction, and dig out various tidbits about our fellow competitors to black mail them out in the auction for the runecarved key. Our last venture didn't end so well, collecting debts from an alchemist-turned-wraith. After most of our weapons failed to penetrate her incorporeal form, we realized that we were against something we were woefully unprepared for and fled for our lives.

"And the Grand Prize is five thousand Gold Pieces!", boomed the loud hearty voice of Axetongue Drobek, shaking me out of my reverie. "The Challenge? Oh, last a minimum of 6 rounds of combat with Fluffy down there. "As if on cue, we heard a monstrous roar from behind him. "What was that?" I looked at my colleagues and they looked at me dubiously at me, and Anferno quipped, "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I was inclined to agree, but held my tongue. Instead, I replied, "We need the funds." Axetongue continued, "The audience so likes a blood sport, so bonus marks will be given for chopping off her heads. You may forfeit the match after the 6th round and beyond, and I will tell Drogan down there to command the beast to enter its pen. The match will automatically be halted if any combatant is knocked unconscious or killed. However, since my patrons do enjoy a good fight, bonus marks would also be given for prolonging the fight. Ladies and gentlemen, lets go to the arena and I shall introduce you to Fluffy, where the first gladiator may step forth!"

Fluffy, unlike her name, was a 5 headed serpentine monster with a thick blue leathery hide and rows and rows of sharp, wicked teeth. A plume of snow sprouted out from one of her mouths as she snapped restlessly at the air, as if eager for something to vent her frustrations on. Her dark yellow eyes were filled with endless fury, and on her neck was a gem encrusted collar. We felt the crowd shift uneasily around us. Some more prudent fortune hunters decided that their lives simply weren't worth the risk and quietly left the arena. I stretched out my magical senses and detected a strong enchantment aura on the collar itself. "Probably the collar in which the mage uses to keep it under control", I thought to myself. I was a student of the arcane arts and I remembered my days in wizard school that the teachers had once spoken about a hydra, a fearsome serpentine multiheaded monster that was nigh unkillable. In a strangely detached portion of my mind, I knew that "Fluffy" was a hydra variant - the cryohydra. The rest of me however, was in awe of the majestic beast.

"Ladies and gentlemen, which of you will dare challenge Fluffy for the grand prize?", Axetongue's voice boomed over the arena. "I will. I am Zyle Lightfingers, and I will challenge the beast for the prize". A lightly armored human with a mop of curly brown hair and two daggers stepped forth. He vaulted up to the platform flamboyantly with great grace and agilty, which I knew I could never hope match.

"You have one round to prepare yourself."

"Peh, who needs preparation. My daggers will pierce the foul beast's hide", Zyle bragged confidently as he twirled his daggers.

He then sauntered into the arena, eager to win the prize money. Almost as if I had heard my weaponmaster next to me say, "Once you understand the thing, you know what it's capable of. Then you know how to kill it." I watched. This time, my very life would depend on those words.

The fight didn't last long. In all honesty it was outright slaughter. The massive cryohydra, for all its bulk, moved far faster then anyone would expect. It pounced on the overconfident Zyle and Zyle, caught flatfooted, did not get away in time. 5 heads tore instantly into Zyle's body, leaving him a bloody ruined lump of flesh. The crowd gasped, stunned by the sheer ferocity of the monstrous beast.

"So..which brave adventurer is up for the challenge next?" "I will. I am Balanar, a follower of Gorum, and it will be good to test my strength against a worthy opponent." A solidly built dwarf warrior with a scraggy red beard, wearing plate mail and wielding a dwarven axe and a towershield lumbered up the platform."

"You have one round to prepare yourself."

"I have no further preparations to make."

He plodded ponderously into the arena. The cryohydra pounced but found that its jaws could not find purchase on Balanar's armor and shield. Balanar, with great skill of axemanship, cleaved off one of its heads, and the crowd roared thunderously. I saw at that very moment, an evil glint appear in the cryohydra's eye. It backed up a step, and turned all 5 heads towards Balanar and breathed a short burst of icy breath. The dwarf caught the full breath in the face, and staggered, his movements seemed to be labored. He tried striking for another head, but after being slowed by the icy breath of the cryohydra, his axe bounced off its thick hide. The cryohydra exhaled another short burst of Icy breath and Balanar collapsed on the ground. During all this, the calm, detached, portion of my mind had noted that the icy breath was of..a.. relatively short range.

We were here afterall, for the prize money. It meant that one of us, if not all of us, had to enter combat with the beast. Our entire group were what an army would call, "Light skirmishers". Vernion was in studded leather while Nickolai wore a chain shirt, and I was clad in black robes. Anferno was perhaps the most "heavily armored" of us all, sporting full plate and a shield. However none of us felt really confident about being in combat with the beast. Perhaps there would be safety in numbers for the beast might get distracted by our numbers, but how could I risk my entire team on a venture I was not certain of? Besides, I had a plan. The Snowfox himself, the great trickster, would be proud of my plan. If it worked, I would get out relatively unscathed. If it didn't, all I could hope for was a quick death.

"So which of you down wish to compete for the prize money?"

"I will. I am Kalara, and I want the prize money." I hoped my voice didn't tremble too much. I then picked up my guisarme and walked up the platform.

"You have one round to prepare yourself."

I gulped a potion of resist energy(cold), and walked into the arena.

The crowd was looking incredulously at a slim figure in black robes wielding a guisarme. I hope they didn't notice my quivering knees either, or at least they were covered by robes. My heart was pounding heavily in my chest. A single mistake, or miscalculation, and I would be dead.

Forewarned by my unfortunate predecessors, I kept a close eye on the cryohydra. I had no illusions on how a straight up fight with the hydra would go. It would end VERY badly. I definitely was not anywhere as agile as Zyle, nor did I wear heavy armor(though I wore my mistmail, concealed, under my black robes).

I raised one hand above my head in a gesture of entreaty, and called, "Spirits of Air, grant me wings of wind." Immediately a small whirlwind manifested at my feet. The Spirits of Air must have approved of my daring plan. I controlled the winds with the ease of long practice and rose 30 ft into the air, out of reach of the cryohydra's bite. Perhaps once I had not been that graceful in the sky, and my first attempts did send me crashing unglamorously into low lying trees. After constant quips and insults by my spirit guide, Basha, with comments that even fledgling owls flew better, I had mastered the art of flying and could even perform blade dances while controlling my winds to stay stationary in the air. Id say that's pretty darned good already. Even Basha these days, when asked about my flying skills would only comment, "Will do". The cryohydra snarled but waited impatiently, thinking that I would have to come into its range of its devastating bites in order to harm it.

I took out a scroll from my handy haversack and began a spell that would make me swell to double my size. This would give me the reach that I needed to stay out of the cryohydra's range. The hydra on seeing that, breathed a burst of icy breath onto me. I saw it with the corner of my eye and managed to avoid the worst of it, while continuing spell casting. That semi dodge, coupled with the potion of resist energy(cold) I had taken earlier, meant that the residue of the breath that I failed to dodge did me no harm. I completed my spell successfully, swelling to double my size. I realized that I could afford to be 5 ft further from the hydra then I actually was to still be able to engage it in combat with my guisarme, and made the necessary adjustments. That would put me out of the icy breath range. I knew that the potion did offer some protection, but I wasn't too inclined to test out its effectiveness, besides I knew if I had caught the full force of the icy breath, it still would have hurt me.

I drew upon my personal magic and enhanced my weapon, then attempted a slash at one of the heads. Its tough leathery hide defeated my attack. The cryohydra, now realizing my ploy was enraged, and made a leap for me but I managed to dodge. I was shocked. "Damn it, never did anywhere in the Wizard's academy did they say cryhohydras could jump," I swore. "Oh well.. you learn new things everyday, some of which weren't what you ever wanted to find out.. or maybe no one lived to tell that cryohydras could jump", I thought to myself.

I slashed at the cryohydra again and sliced off one of its heads. The crowd roared its approval. Unfortunately, in my haste to land a good blow, I had left myself open and the leaping cryohydra landed a good bite at my side. My lifeblood begin to flow down my robes, dripping onto the arena floor. And so we continued our dance of death. I managed to slice off another 3 heads, which just regrew back, while the cryohydra had savagely bitten me several times. Seeing the futility of continuing a fight with an un killable opponent, I forfeited the match. The cryohydra was ordered back into its pen. Head swimming from the blood loss, I staggered out of the arena, bleeding profusely from many bites, and with the adrenalin rush from combat leaving me, collapsed outside the arena. "Anferno, mind fixing me up?", I called out to my colleague from the ground. Later I found out that I had fought the beast for 9 rounds continuously - which was more then any sane person would have stayed, winning the prize money of 5000 gp.

Ahh..the things we do as pathfinders..



*Extra notes:

I wrote this whole part, but not the whole scenario for the fek of it (Didn't really feel the drive to write the whole scenario).

I also took quite abit of artistic license. (Some things never really happened).

Kalara is adopted of the snowmask clan(see shades of Ice 3). I tried to find out on the religion of snowmasks, but could not get any. So I RPed that it is somewhat like shamanic tradition, where you have animal and elemental spirits (see clan of the cave bear). Her Spirit animal is that of the snowfox (think artic fox). Her spirit guide is her familiar(Basha bat) - who in the future may turn out to be an air spirit(air mephit!).

Kalara has 16 int, and 7 cha..so excuse lack of social graces.

-Extra scene-

Kalara and Anferno (after nabbing the assassin and tapping out - run for it!), sitting in some halfway decent looking tavern, lounging on the bar couches.

"I don't usually do this, but I Really Really Need a drink now. Im totally tapped out"

*Chink mugs*

Both start drinking, Anferno to drown his shame of running in the BBEG battle, Kalara to settle her nerves after a totally fked up day. Which includes brawling with a hydra.

All around them the city guards are clearing the city of devils and demons while they get themselves drunk.

[Daryl Kong]

Anferno limps to his Captain's quarters onboard the Bloodfang, docked in Absalom. His armor bloodied and damaged, marking the difficulty of his long adventure. He turns to his first mate and whispers, _{"Send word to the Paracountess, Golarion is in chaos once again... Tell her we will rendezvous at the usual place and I will deliver my report."}[/b]

[not2fear]

These are the first Pathfinders I've seen to 'Chow keng' and report sick, although i suspect only half that party will will understand what i speak of.

[mort]

Discretion is the better part of valor! I was almost out of spells at the end: (x1 shield),(x1 burning hands), (x1 Vanish), (x1 Rime frostbite) and a mirror image. Nothing offensive, and totally nothing to disable multiple people in a hurry

*Flies off in a hurry*

[Daryl Kong]

After encountering bearded devils, the next waves of enemies would surely have been more bearded devils, greater demons and balrogs.

*sails off in a hurry*


How were we suppose to know its just lemures and hellcats and whatnot...

[lkerhsien]

Day 28, March 13, Stormy

Received words from Venture Captain Sheila Heidmarch to travel to Magnimar as soon as possible on the ship she had prepared. Further information was told to be briefed upon arrival. Met with several fellow Pathfinders on the same ship. Tenzekil, a short fellow, rings on every fingers, reeks of alcohol. He is smiling even in his sleep lying on this weird cat that has a head of a monster; Kairon, a huge man bulge in muscle, isolated himself at one corner of the ship, muttering the word "smash" almost every half a second, in his other hand clutches a little barbie doll; Anferno who is cladded in full plate armour, blood stains could still be seen on his shield, seems to be a dangerous man; Nikolai, sneaky fellow, saw him peeking into some sex novel which he hid in his backpack; Aeryl the cleric, she does seems to be the most sane among the lot of them. I wonder when will we be able to reach Magnimar..

Day 29, March 13, Sunny

Our ship finally docked. This is the first time I had came to Magnimar, me and the party head to the Heidmarch manor without delay. We get to know from Venture Captain Sheila's briefing that the newly arrived Apis Consortium's silver agent named Vidrin Jenk is eager to prove his worth to the organisation. He had recently purchased the Barracuda Cartage company and is planning to patch up with a group of cultist who worshipped Lissala, the Thassilonian goddess of rune, fate and obedience. Our mission is to foil their reunion.In fact, I do not like this mission.

=============To be Continued================

[xuthiensun]

Date played: 30/3/13
GM: Adriaan van Wijk
Scenario played: The Quest for Perfection, Part 3: Defenders of Nesting Swallow

-This report written on parchment using black ink in fine, neat handwriting is addressed to Venture Captain Sheila Heidmarch-

Report #30032013
Name: Ian Ravenhelm
Society ID: 80671-1

After spending days traveling down the Tuunma River and crossing the Sea of Eels, while eliminating the threat of Lingshen authority, we finally managed to dock at Shokuro. There, we met up with our contact who gave us more information of our final destination: a small farming village known as ‘Nesting Swallow’, where it is believed that the last living descendant of Master Li Yao resides, and that she is able to empower this Braid of a Hundred Masters we have so valiantly smuggled across the land for. We spent some short time preparing for our journey, and soon embarked through the woodland countryside towards Nesting Swallow. However, as we approached nearer the village down the road, we spotted and heard some commotion, and discovered a group of about four hooded figures threatening some defenceless villagers. They had already started to ransack the contents of the villagers’ overturned cart.

Fearing for the worst, we prepared ourselves for combat. Using my Shining Wayfinder, we managed to discover that they were a part of the source of evil that we know, that has been threatening the area. We engaged, having the upper hand as they did not realize of our presence, and soon we managed to defeat all but one. After much interrogation, we managed to squeeze out the name of their leader, a ruthless tengu named ‘Kwankhonu’. We decided to strip him of this equipment and let him go. The villagers who were attacked thanked us, and the old man who was protecting the group revealed that he was actually one of the elders from Nesting Swallow. After taking the time to repair their cart, we escorted them back to the village, where we were welcomed joyously. Despite much fever of our arrival, we prepared ourselves for an audience with the village elders, and ultimately Je Tsun, the living descendant of Master Li Yao.

She explained that the tengus had been attacking, raiding and stealing the village’s harvests for some time, and our arrival would have been considered godsend, despite the fact that we were present only because of our mission. Nevertheless, she agreed that if we were to help defend the village and ultimately stop the tengus from ever attacking again, she will do all in her power to restore the Braid. Inspiring hope in a village that as lost almost everything was motivation enough.

For the next few days we started to work on the village’s defences. On the first day, much to the elders’ surprise, we managed to complete the entire harvest. Talathal, who went on a scouting mission, relayed the information that the tengus were gathering for the assault, and might be arriving in about nine days. On the second day, Shera led a few of the villages out to flood the fields, while the rest of us started to train the able-bodied men of the village in the ways of combat. The next few days would consist of Shera and Yunn organizing the villages to construct the wall, while Talathal, Zhora and I continued to train the rest of the villagers to fight.

On the eighth day, we received report from a village scout that the tengus were charging for the attack. We quickly positioned ourselves to the eastern wall and prepared for the raid. The first wave of tengus we picked off easily: Talathal shot a couple, while Yunn and Shera managed to do quite a bit of damage to the rest of them. For myself, I had managed to slice a bandit from the top of the wall. The second wave was slightly more challenging, as one of the tengus who rode with the group was apparently a spellcaster of some sort. However, after an exchange of arrows, bombs, spells and slashes, we managed to kill most of the bandits while their spellcaster fled.

We thought we were victorious, until we heard screams from the northern gate. The bodies of villagers flew through the air as the gate came crashing down to reveal a sinister looking creature: one that had a body of a bear and the head of an owl. Zhora had taken the opportunity to steal one of the dead rider’s horses and attempted to distract the beast, while the rest of us prepared the incoming of Kwankhonu, riding on what seemed to be a giant, ferocious… Chicken.

At that point came the moment of our downfall. The beast had managed to slay many of the villages, who ended up fleeing in terror back into their houses. Zhora, Talathal and I tried to keep the beast in control but its attacks were too mighty for us. Yunn tried to distract Kwankhonu, but went unconscious from an attack at the wall as soon he lunged over it. Shera, on the other hand, fled in order to gain a better position. It seemed hopeless at this point as I was exhausting all my powers, and it looked as if Kwankhonu might have been the end of us all…

But our most unexpected moment arrived. Shera bravely went in to cast color spray at Kwankhonu, and to our surprise, it worked! Kwankhonu and his mount became blinded as we heard the shrieks of pain. Shera quickly grabbed his katana that he had dropped and ran quickly towards Talathal. The remaining villagers, who were inspired by our courage to the point of fighting to the death, charged in to engage the beast as well. We were finally turning the tide! I managed to free myself to heal Yunn, while Talathal, using Kwankhonu’s blade, started to slash at the beast with Zhora pounding away on it as hard as she could.

Once the beast was dead, we quickly diverted our attention to Kwankhonu, who had just recovered, and had now declared a challenge to Talathal. Despite the fact that his chicken mount was ferociously strong and dealt quite a bit of damage, Yunn managed to lob a bomb that disabled it, causing Kwankhonu to fall on his feet. In the final moments, after our last struggle, we finally cut Kwankhonu down, thus signalling the end of the raid.

We cleared up the place and as Je Tsun promised, she managed to empower the Braid. As we left we said our goodbyes, knowing that on that day good has triumphed over evil… But how long that will last, we will never know for sure, for the threat that looms around the lands are indeed creeping to places we would least expect.

Reporting for the Pathfinder Society, on behalf of the Silver Crusade,
Ian Ravenhelm

[eryda]

Noticed my previous query has not been yet answered. Would like to repeat it once more, with another one:

1. I assume that if we(I) GM'd, I would just pick one aspect and write, yes?
2. Is it ok if I go past 1,000 words? I have a potential idea that probably will go past 1,000.

[Stephen]

Date played: 31/03/2013
GM:Terrence
Scenario played: Race for Runecarved key
(with reference to GM: Rich, Day of the Demon, played earlier the same day)

Well, here’s Venino’s little diatribe for your reading pleasure. Please note that this is meant to be entertaining and no offence is intended. Keep in mind that Venino is petty, jealous, a liar, and a bit of a tit.
-------------------------------------------------

You could say things had gone a tad downhill. There I was in Cayden's Mead Hall. Not such a bad prospect you might say, but this wasn't that fine happening place in Absalom; it was the mead hall Cayden's initiates go to when they're late. As in the Late Mr. der Flinke. Bugger.

"Weren't 'spectin' you 'ere so soon young Venino. Crying shame. Thought you'd be slayin' ebul an' making orf wif the goods for many years to come."
"I 'ere 'e spent most of 'is time runnin' fro' monsties radder dan foightin' 'em.”
"I 'ere he spent more time sneakin' into bed chambers than donjons."
"Aye. And more runnin' from irate fathers than ak-chew-al monsters; innit."
Of all the bars in the afterlife, I had to end in the one where everyone thought they could speak in a Talden accent.
"Give the guy a break; 'es just been deadeded. So wot exactly ‘aaarpend to yoo?"
"I was killed by a Devil-and-his-Dog-that-I-tanked-while-the-party-busied-themselves-non-lethaling-a-pre-teen-girl's-ass", I blurted out. Shocked silence. Then raucous laughter. Sheesh.

"Ah well, might as well get yer lips round one of Cayden's special ales. Here you are, get this one down yer sneck."
So things began to look up a little. I raised the stein of golden nectar and admired the fine head of foam, the gently settling full-yeasty texture. This, at least, was going to be good. Of course some priestly type somewhere on the mundane plane decides now's a good time to start hauling on my silver cord, dragging me back to the fubared body I'd recently vacated. Whizzer.

"I feel. Like. Complete. Shit. And I can't move. Why can't I move? Hello? Anyone? You bring me back from the dead and I'm paralysed! Good job bastards!"
"Now now, calm down Mr. der Flinke. Pathfinders of all ages pass through these halls and you wouldn't want them hearing a string of obscenities would you?"
"It says in my file I'm Chayotic. Chayotics express themselves by swearing to show their love of freedom and contempt for authority, so if you think I'm going to stop you can just go..."
"Obsenicus Nulificus!"
"...Flex yourself. What? Hey, Harry effing Potter, what did you just do to me? Munster flicker! Oh this is ballshod!"
"Have you finished?"
"..."
“Its pronounced ‘chaotic’”.
“Wiseape.”
"It must have been quite a fall you suffered."
"Eh? What are you talking about? I was killed by a Devil-and-his-Dog-that-I-tanked-while-the-party-busied-themselves-non-lethaling-a-pre-teen-girl's-ass."
"I see. You must have suffered these injuries in transit then. Looks like you were dragged for days through a frozen wasteland of jagged rocks. I can tell you the good news though, that being dead cured you of the Baleful Hound Curse of Mysterious Fate."
"Fab. So why is it I can't move now?""
"Well your muscles have atrophied of course."
"What! How long was I dead? My insurance plan only covers Raise Dead. I can’t afford Resurrection."
"Well strictly speaking you'd exceeded the safety margin for resuscitation, but since you’re a rogue, a little brain damage isn’t going to make too much difference to your career is it? I daresay your friends brought you back as quick as they could."
"Friends! Oh, you mean those bottlenecks that left me with Devil-and-his-Dog-that-I-tanked-while-they-busied-themselves-non-lethaling-a-pre-teen-girl's-ass? Dodgiest bunch of deviants the Decemvirate ever lumbered me with. If I ever see those mothers again I’ll…”
A black armoured thrash-metal figure paused in the doorway, giving off flickers of green hell vapours.”
"Oh hey, ’sup Anferno."
"Ven-knee-no", came the deep monotone from the dark interior of the full-faced droopy-horned helm; a style made fashionable by mass butchers serving dark clichéd gods everywhere. "I just thought I'd stop by to check how you're doing."
"Just peachy thanks… So. Erm. Do you ever take that helm off?"
".... Why?"
"I. No reason."
"We've been summoned. Urgent mission. Muster upstairs in five."
The dark presence clanked off."
"Chipper."

So it turns out the Decemvirate wanted us to run interference against various competing parties set to bid for this Rune Carved thingamajig. Beats me why anyone would want to spend actual money on a single specific key. Locks are for picking surely; why would you spoil it with a key?

At the briefing Anferno didn’t mention anything to me, you know, about being dead and all. He just pretended to examine his black painted nails. I tried to sneak a look through his eye slit to see if he was wearing mascara. I think you can take this man-of-mystery thing a bit too far.

The other members of the team then: Nickolai. What a dude! We hit it off straightaway because we like all the same things: tight-fitting leather, stealing stuff, stabbing unsuspecting victims, stealing stuff, disappearing into the shadows, taking complex objects apart so they never go back together, stealing stuff. Healthy hobbies like that.

And Kalara. Introduced herself as a witch. As you do. No one argued with that. She was quite happy to see Goffic Tin Man, but I swear she rolled her eyes when she found out she was saddled with two rogues. No matter, she got us out of some pretty hairy situations that day and for that we’re very grateful.

Before getting down to business the Decemvirate decides to treat us by winging us an invite to this fancy pre-auction shindig. All kinds of classy people and fancy food. Apparently there was meant to be lots of whore-derves there too but I don’t think I saw any. But later it turns out we were actually supposed to be working while we were there, which was news to me. Ho hum.

The first real course of action was to liberate some gold from a caravan of the Aspis Consortium. This was right up me and Nickolai’s street. We were planning our play when Kalara says we should just kill them all as these creeps are pure ebul mofos who didn’t deserve to live. No one argued with her.

So me and Nikolai sneak in to strike out of the shadows only to find Dark Saucepan Man has decided he wants to play at sneaky sneaky too. Of course the whole camp is alerted and it’s getting rather gnarly when all of a sudden there’s this whoosh and witch girl is flying through the air twirling her effin’ bardiche and zapping spells at the guards. These poor buggers are dropping like flies. I swear some of them she just looks at ‘em and they collapse in spasms. We think we’re in the clear only to have some amoured Gygax beast relic from the 70s come barreling out of one of the wagons. Dunno what Kalara did to it though but by the time we get there it’s whimpering with its paws over its face. It’s at this point that we see a white beagle fly over. Or perhaps it was an eagle. And Kalara says that’s the sign for us to drop everything and return to base. No one argued with her.

This set the tone for most of the action that happened that eventful day. At one point me and Nickolai double-teamed and took down a wererat; my first lycanthrope kill. Proud of ourselves we look around and there’s Kalara, the rest of the pack dead at her feet. And it seems we had the small one.

Next up we knew some Zimarny Cadron geezer was working as agent for a mysterious party in the auction. We were tasked with finding out who this new party was. We bluffed the old fella that we were security experts of a particularly discreet nature and that there were mutually beneficial arrangements we might be able to make with his patron. We managed to get an appointment with the patron’s representative, who turned out to be this devastatingly hot goff Chelaxian chick. I thought I’d turn on the old Venino charm to get what we needed. “So lady, let me tell you about the time I was killed by a Devil-and-his-Dog-that-I-tanked-while-the-party-busied-themselves-non-lethaling-a-pre-teen-girl's-ass”. Well that fell flat. And would you believe Anferno takes this as his cue to move in for the kill. He just nods his big helm and shows her the cut marks on his arms and she’s suddenly slipping about in her chair for him. Later though when he returns from his goffic rendezvous and we ask him who the patron is, it turns out he was so engaged with the delights of Miss Cheliax that he frikkin forgot to ask. Score.

Have to admit that Anferno came in handy for the next part though. We had to terrorize some poor old hobbit with gambling debts into paying up to us. We just said “Pay up or…” and points to Metal Mickey. On cue Anferno makes twin jet of steam come out from under his nose guard and the hobbit soils himself.

I should also say Nickolai had his particular high point too but I won’t steal his fire by relating it all here. Made me proud to be a rogue the way he scaled the wall, sneaked in and grabbed the goods. The exit could have been cleaner I suppose. No need to mention it was Kalara’s plan of course. She laid it out and no one argued with her.

Perhaps I should mention too the arena with the cryohydra. “No sense you scrubs getting killed; I’ll solo it”, says Kalara. No one argued with her. We sat with the rest of the crowd feeling small thinking about our poor career choices while she twirled in the air lopping heads off. I didn’t think matt black armour needed to be polished, but that’s what Anferno was doing.

Of course, you know how these things tend to escalate. The rest of the day saw devils popping up from every frikkin’ where. From that point on we were pretty much running for our lives till the end. I discovered an interesting thing about full plate armour though. It seems when you’re running towards the monsters to fight them then it tends to slow you the hell down. But when you decide that it’s a good time to flee, miraculously there seems to be no such problem. I’m sure Anferno can explain this weird physics.

Exhausted we manage to drag our sorry asses back to base. Kalara saved all our necks but even she knew when to tell us to cut and run. We retrieved the part of the key we were chasing, so that’s what counts right? Turns out the rest of the teams were taking the whole thing as some kind of sport. Devils popping out of the air and Pathfinders are whooping as they bag them. But instead of being reprimanded for their reckless behaviour, these goons are toasted.

Whatever. Anferno, Kalara, Nickolai and I at least walked out of there with our heads held high. I patted Anferno on the back, “Hey buddy, good score today; you didn’t let me die.” Wink. Smiley.
“Don’t … touch … the plate.”
“I…”.

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[mort]

Its really really very amazing how 2 people in the same group can have totally different stories on how the event took place. But that is the crux of RPGs. Each of us may play the same scenario, but our experiences will be vastly different due to how we view the series of events(fortunate or not). I'm flattered though

[Stephen]

Well, I did exaggerate some aspects for effect and played down others, but I think it captured the flavour of the day.

[Daryl Kong]

Letter to Zee Zee.docx (16.74 KB)

The sails of the Bloodfang catches the strong wind, propelling the Cheliaxian ship southwards, out of the Varisia Gulf and into the Steaming Sea. Anferno, the captain passes the helm over to his helmsman and limps to his quarters. Anferno's abyssal black full plate armor is dented, broken and dried blood stains of the tiefling can be seen all over the damaged armor. The crew passes quick glances over to their captain as he walks by, none says a word.

Anferno slowly pries his armor open and drops them on the wooden floor. He minces as wounds and bruises are still fresh. He takes a seat and looks blankly across his desk, his memories bring back flashbacks of his missions in Varisia. Two fellow pathfinders dead, a near party wipe and himself bleeding out on the ground three times in over ten days.

He shakes off the images to focus on the present. Chaos is coming. A letter must be written to inform Paracountess Zarta Dralneen, Venture Captain of Cheliax for the Pathfinder Society, of the dangers brewing in Varisia and close to home, in Cheliax and Absalom. A crewman knocks on the door and enters, laying down paper, quill and ink on the desk. He bows and leaves silently, eyes never laying upon the captain.

Anferno inches forward and begins writing his report.

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To Paracountess Zarta Dralneen,

My Esteemed Lady, this letter is written for your eyes only. I leave it to your will if the following contents are shared with the Pathfinder Society and the new Venture Captain of Magnimar , Sheila Heidmarch. I bring you grave news from Varisia but before discussing matters future, please guard yourself well, for you are right, someone has been out to slander and discredit your reputation. His name is Tancred Desimire.

During the Blakros Matrimony, a marriage event that I am extremely gratefully to be selected by your Grace to attend, I had met Tancred Desimire, cousin to the groom, now known as Damien Blakros. As per your instructions to improve relations with influential key figures, I had discovered that Tancred Desimire was very unhappy towards you. Further dialogues with the man revealed that his brother, Algorn Desimire, a former leader of the infamous Aspis Consortium, was killed by Pathfinders. Details about Algorn Desimire were not revealed and no further questions were made, least he were to grow suspicious of my inquisitive demeanour.

Instead of blaming the actual killers, Tancred Desimire foolishly blames you as being responsible for his grief. Tancred also mentions something about his family name being ruined by your Grace but I am sure that is pure lies and self-deception on his part. Unfortunately the investigation was interrupted when Tancred made a hasty departure of the wedding and I was tasked to find the missing bride Michella Blakros, a minor inconvenience, as the runaway bride was quickly found by the beach, taken hostage by vikings. The vikings were quickly slain and bride safely returned to the wedding. No evidence as to why the vikings wanted Michella Blakros but I believe it to be a simple kidnap and ransom. 

The bloodbath that ensued later by the demons who crashed the wedding party will forever be my most glorious day. To stand ground and fight alongside your Grace, with the Hellknights against the chaotic forces of demons was simply pure ecstasy! The shadow demon Arastrax who cowardly retreated will be found one day and put to his final death by the righteous valour of Cheliax's fearless and unrelentless Hellknights.

Tancred Desimire's betrayal is further exposed during my mission to cleanse the Damien Blakros' historical but abandoned manor house. Tancred's journals were found, details of his rage upon learning his brother's death, his slow turn to insanity when he starts to blame you for his ill-fortunes, his gathering of demonic forces beneath Absalom to take revenge on the Pathfinder Society's Decemvirate and plans of a kidnapping plot on you! My dearest Paracountess Zarta Dralneen, I beg of you again to double your security and guard yourself well. I humbly suggest that you seek the aid of trusted Hellknights to guard you and to patrol the shadowy depths of Absalom sewers, in search of the traitor Tancred Desimire.

In Varisia, the cities of Riddleport and Magnimar have confirmed sightings and the undeniable proof that the Cult of Lissala is back. The Aspis Consortium is in an alliance with the Cult of Lissala and an underground temple dedicated to Lissala was located beneath the sewers of Riddleport. I was on a convert operation with the Pathfinder Society, under the guise as Aspis agents, to sabotage the structural integrity of the temple. The mission was a success, although the cult leader escaped when we attempted to apprehend her.

In Magnimar, the auction of the runecraved key brought in many influential and wealthy players to the fledging city-state. The Cult of Lissala made their bold move in public to seize the runecraved key. Devils and demons were summoned and ran wild in the streets, causing death and destruction on a massive scale. The city erupted into chaos as city guards fought alongside many groups of Pathfinders, who were stationed there. The battle raged on for hours and eventually the Cult of Lissala were pushed back into hiding, their demonic forces eradicated. The runecraved key is safe with the Pathfinder Society.

I hope our scholars will decipher the secrets quickly of the runecraved key. We need to know why the Cult of Lissala is after it and if the runecraved key is best kept safe within Cheliax borders. I urge your Grace to convince the Grand Council of Absalom to allow Cheliax's Hellknights and Inquisitors to booster Absalom's forces in the impending threat of demons. Riddleport and Magnimar also requires support to locate the Cult of Lissala. Rubaani Shafar, a mercenary commander, whom I befriended at the Blakros Matrimony, can aid us in this endeavour with her continent of mercenary forces. Time and chaos is against us but order shall forever prevail!

Your ever eager servant,
Armiger to the Order of the Scourge,
xoxo,
Inquisitor Anferno

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Date Played:
    29, 30, 31 May 2013
Scenarios/GMs:
    Rise of the Goblin Guild          (Aloysius)
    Severing Ties                      (Adriaan)
    In Wrath's Shadow               (Terence)
    The Blakros Matrimony          (Stuart)
    Day of the Demon                (Richard)
    Race for the Runecraved Key (Terence)