CLOSED Pathfinder: Rise of the Runelords, Burnt Offerings

Character Thread
OOC Thread

Post 1: Background Information

The summer sleeps

The first day of Autumn is upon us, and the beautiful, crisp air offer hints of the colder weeks ahead. The rolling mists that at times shroud the town are lifting, and the gentle lull of the ocean offers a calming backdrop to what a romantic might call a perfect day, if only it weren't for the cursing laughter of the local fishermen unloading their catch, and the shrieking calls of the seagulls that whirl overhead.

The town of Sandpoint

A simple, relatively peaceful young town with all the color and common oddities one expects from a tightly-knit community, Sandpoint sits at a point on the Lost Coast halfway between Magnimar and Windsong Abbey. Wood buildings and cluttered docks line the town’s natural harbor, while farms and the manors of wealthy citizens dot the surrounding countryside. During the day, fishing, farming, lumbering, glass-making, and shipbuilding occupy most of the townsfolk, who commonly retire to their homes by way of Sandpoint’s many taverns. A playhouse and would-be museum make unusual attractions in such a small community, but Sandpoint’s true landmark is the Old Light, a lighthouse of ancient origins that lies in ruins.

A relatively peaceful town, devoid of many of the dangers of a true frontier town and intrigues of a sprawling city, Sandpoint has nonetheless had its share of troubles. The fading scars of a recent terror still linger, a time most folk refer to as the Late Unpleasantness. Just over five years ago, a madman stalked the streets of Sandpoint, killing dozens. Known as Chopper, the killer’s month-long terror ended bloodily when an eccentric local artisan was revealed as the murderer and killed during his attempted capture.

Adding to the pain, less than a month later the local chapel burned to the ground in a conflagration that nearly consumed the town’s northern half and left the local priest dead.

Emerging from the shadow of these events, though, Sandpoint has healed and rebuilt, with many townsfolk viewing the coming dedication of a new church as a symbolic end to the healing and return to normality.

Danth Brinfield, favored of Sarenae

The morning of the Swallowtail Festival is upon you, and the town of Sandpoint is abuzz. You had spent the previous evening amongst Father Zantus, his acolytes, and the three other clerical dignitaries who made the short trip from Magnimar, performing a quiet little ritual of bread-breaking and blessing.

Romath Sinochrin of Abadar, a heavy-set, brocaded fool, more interested in his heavy ceremonial medallions, and position as deputy head of the Magnimar Mercantile Society, made your night an uncomfortable one. He clearly feels that your youthful presence here is demeaning to his own trip, and while he did little more than grumble privately during the trip here, last night, after he had downed a few glasses of red wine, his true feelings bubbled out.

"Shocking insult from the church of Sarenrae to send one so wet behind the ears!" you heard him whisper into the ear of Zantus during the night. You ignored him, as best you could, but in truth his drunken rudeness ruined your night, and even now has left a lingering bitterness. You may be young, and you are aware that being sent upon this trip was an honour, but you know you are up to the task.

You stand in front of the small mirror in your cold room, trying to clasp the last few loops of your ceremonial robes together. There is no place for armour at todays ceremony, but the vestment, stole, and associated paraphenalia feel even more restrictive than your favoured bronzed scale mail.

Just one more day with Romath, and then thankfully you will be free of him, as you are set to return immediately to Magnimar while the rest stay behind for a few days to enjoy the ongoing festivities. No such rest for you, though, as shortly after your arrival a messenger arrived requesting your return as soon as possible after the festival. This, coupled with your anger from the night before, has left you feeling rather distracted.

Note: You have no armour on, but will have your weapon!

Mandraiv the hermit, free spirit of Desna

At last the festival is here. Your old friend, Father Ezakien Tobyn, may have been killed in the fire that destroyed the old temple, but you know he would have rejoiced at the magnificent cathedral they built in its place. He was a true friend, one of the few townspeople who would seek you out to ask for your thoughts, or to share news with you, and when he perished you were saddened.

You are no stranger around Sandpoint. You visit there to buy seeds and gardening equipment, as well as to sell some of your famous rhubarb and plum jams when the season is right, but in your heart you don't feel part of Sandpoint.

Today, though, you are going to hold your head up high amidst the throng and listen to the dedication of the new cathedral. You are not doing it for yourself, you are doing it for the memory of Ezakien and what it would have meant to him.

You look at your old scale mail, shield, and morningstar, laid out on your bed, polished to an amazing shine. You have spent the last week at work during the night ours, getting things stitched up, oiled, cleaned, and, in truth, loosened in a few places to allow your more ... relaxed girth fit into it. You may look slightly silly, but you don't care. This is the gear of a cleric of Desna, and by her blessing you are going to wear it and ignore the inevitable comments!

Note: full armour and morningstar, but no backpack or sunrods, etc.

Jokad the Reaver

Your debt has almost been repaid. Father Zantus and his acolytes have been nothing but kind to you since your arrival in a terrible state, and seemed slightly embarrassed when you demanded that you repay your debts to them. At first they thought you meant a small donation in coin, which they would have gratefully received, but when they finally realised you actually felt obliged to do something to physically repay their service, they quickly found a use for you. Since then you have been working hard to prepare for the upcoming festival, helping the carpenters build the small stage, clearing the central square, carrying the barrels of pickled fish and vegetables, the rounds of cheese, the kegs of ale, and the barrows of apples and pears up from the market to the north eastern cathedral district.

You are tired, but it is a good tiredness. Your muscles feel like they have been tested, and your soul is starting to yearn for freedom from the town. Father Zantus asked if you would mind staying one more day after today, to help clear up after the party tonight, and then to finish the clearing up and dismantling tomorrow. After that, you plan on taking your possessions, making your thanks, and leaving this town. You have no idea where you will go, but the road is calling!

Note: You are lightly dressed with no weapons. You are, after all, on hand during the ceremony only to help carry things, etc.

Kael Saern

You have been in town a few days, and there is no way you are missing this festival. Free food, free drink, young ladies, and a chance for you to forget your predicament. You are a smart cookie, though, and you have an idea that you might be able to make a pretty penny today. Not only is the food free, but you might be able to help a few people out with a mending spell and make a few silvers. If that doesn't work, well in all honesty there is little else to do today.

Note: Normal equipment, but without your backpack which is in The Hagfish inn, where you are staying (for free for a few days, in return for helping old one-legged Jargie Quinn, the rather strange owner, with some alchemical ideas he has - none of which are ever any good, but he does seem to enjoy the resultant explosions).

Jovik Magnix

The last few months have been testing for you. Your father has grown more distant, perhaps coming to the realisation that you have no intention of following your brothers and him into a useful profession. You have been working your socks off, legitimately (well, largely) for the last few months as well, raising coin, but you have done it out-with the boring world of fishing. Your odd jobs, working for the Scarnetti family as a messenger and fixer, has not exactly enamoured you with your family (or most others), but the pay is good, and the work is simple (even if there is always an undercurrent of threat to their demands).

And then you went and dropped the ball, telling your oldest brother about your intention to leave right after the Swallowtail Festival. You had had a few drinks, had been acting the big man, buying him a couple with your easy-found coin, and then your mouth had run away from you. He hadn't said anything at the time, but when you awoke the next day to a roiling headache, the cold attitude of your mother made it all too obvious that your brother had told them of your intentions.

Since then the family have been harbouring mixed feelings for the Swallowtail Festival. Your father, a pious man who has been doing his bit to pickle extra fish to provide free at the festival, has had his excitement at the consecration of the new cathedral (and an all-too-rare day-off) dashed by the knowledge that it may well be the last day that he sees his young son.

He hasn't spoken to you about it, but you can read him like a book. He is disappointed in you. He feels you are running away from your responsibilities. He is scared you are going to get yourself killed.

But hey, you are a man now, and it is time to make your own destiny, and after this Swallowtail Festival (which has become like a stone around your neck), you will be free of guilt and responsibility.

Note: You are lightly dressed with only a concealed dagger in your possession.

Game Post 1

The Swallowtail Festival
A stage has been set up in front of the cathedral and a woman with short auburn hair stands in the center. Behind her sit four wooden chairs, three of them occupied. As the crowd notices her, a hush descends and all eyes turn to the stage. She smiles and begins to speak:

"Welcome! As many of you know, my name is Kendra Deverin and I am proud to serve as mayor of this fine town. It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day. I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. I hope you all are enjoying your stay here in Sandpoint and especially if it is your first visit here I sincerely hope that you're having a wonderful time. And to all of the old faces I see today, thank you for coming and thank you for everything that each of you has done to keep this town strong in recent years. I see that even Larz Rovanky has torn himself away from work to join us today! It is truly a miracle from Desna herself! [There is quite a bit of laughter and many eyes are turned to a serious looking man dressed in all leather and wearing a sour expression on his face. Kendra waves to him and continues.] Without further ado, let me introduce your Sheriff, Belor Hemlock!"

A dour looking Shoanti wearing a worn breastplate and a longsword belted at his waist stands and walks to the center of the stage. His head is shaved and he his eyes are constantly moving about the crowd. He shakes the Mayor's hand and begins to speak.
"Thank you Mayor. Even in the heat of celebration, let us not forget the sad events that brought us to this day. And also let us not forget the souls that were lost five years ago. I would like you to all join me in a moment of silence to remember the lives that were lost in the fire that claimed our previous chapel on that fateful night. [The Sheriff lowers his head and the crowd joins him, many of them quite awkwardly as the silence persists. After the moment is over, the Sheriff raises his head and begins to speak again.] In remembering let us also not allow these events to repeat themselves. I am of the understanding that a bonfire is planned for tonight. I urge you all to observe caution during this event. [he clears his throat and smiles awkwardly] And ummm... Enjoy yourselves. Let me introduce the next speaker; give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprieter of the local theatre."

He nods to the crowd and walks back to his chair, passing the next speaker who is already on his way up to the center-stage. This man is quite a contrast to the Sheriff; he is brightly dressed, sports a well-groomed goatee, and seems to be thoroughly enjoying the day. As he reaches the center stage he loosens his collar a bit, winks into the crowd and starts to talk:

"Well, thank you Sheriff for that uplifting oratory. Now I know this town has been through some hard times, but look at what we've accomplished [He motions towards the church.] And I'm telling you, they spared no expense with this place. Father Zantus' chamber pot? Solid gold. I kid you not, our generous nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of this joint. I think the Churches even chipped in a silver or two! I even heard a rumor that all of the Gods got together and scrounged up four gold pieces to help get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the Padre over here is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! But before I let him get things going I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to the new production of "The Harpy's Curse" starring the world-famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda as Avisera the harpy queen! It's all premiering tomorrow evening at the Sandpoint Theatre and it is going to be fab-u-lous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Zantus!"

The crowd cheers as Cyrdak motions Zantus to the center stage. The young priest looks noticedly abashed at the reception set up for him. He wears the traditional ceremonial robes of a priest of Desna and a shiny silver holy symbol about his neck. He smiles and tries to calm the crowd down, eventually speaking when the applause has subsided:
"Ahem, thank you. Thank you Cyrdak. And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most Holy day. Today is a day of new beginnings so without boring you with long speeches, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"

And so the festivities begin. People give out cheers that seem to be half joy and perhaps half release. This is a new dawn for Sandpoint after The Late Unpleasantness (the term locals use to refer to the brutal serial killings of Chopper, and then the later fire that destroyed the old temple and much of the north eastern section of town). Drinks start flowing, food barrels get cracked open, and people mill around, looking to share their joy.

Swallowtail Release

At noon, as the new cathedral bell strikes for the first time, Father Zantus leads a small procession of his acolytes out into the square. A large Shoanti [Jokad] follows the procession, pulling a large covered wagon (with some help from the more junior acolytes.

Everyone quietens down again, as Father Zantus mounts the small podium once again to recount a short parable of how Desna first fell to earth and was nursed back to health by a blind child who she transformed into an immortal butterfly as a reward for her aid. As he finishes his speech, his acolytes pull back the wagon's cover, letting loose what appears to be a thousand children of Desna, a whirling, fluttering, swarming wave of Swallowtail butterflies.

An almighty cheer rises up amongst the crowd, as young children immediately dart and scurry off after the butterflies. As you watch the joyful scene, you notice that no matter how close the children come to catching the butterflies, they never quite manage.

Lunch

Despite the entire morning having already seemingly been spent in lazy consumption, the best was yet to come. As the butterfly wagon is rolled out of the square, a small flurry of activity takes place, as all of the town's taverns set out their massive spreads of food, ALL FREE!

Roast chickens, lobster chowder, an entire roasted venison (hot, hot, hot peppery skin), and the most amazing curry-spiced salmon (from Ameiko Kaijitsu). It is amazing stuff, but poor old Mandraiv has to stop after a few bites. Not only is the spice too much for his simple palate, but he can feel his gut press uncomfortably against his armour.

Consecration

As the sun begins to set, at around 5:30pm, Fathur Zantus, looking tired, but with a massive grin spread across his face, steps once again onto the podium. Quite a portion of the crowd is getting tipsy by now, and Zantus, having realised that this might be the case, reaches into his robes to retrieve a thunderstone to get everyone's attention and get them to cease talking for a few moments. Children are still running around the stalls, getting tangled up in adults legs, high to the eyeballs on sugared apples and dried cherries. A few early-bloomers lie slumped already in blissful states of inebriation (blissful until the morning, at least).

Father Zantus raises his hand, holding the thunderstone aloft, and then throws it at his feet.

A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun's setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium.

He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak the prayer of consecration, and suddenly a woman's scream slices through the air.

A few moments later another scream rises, and then another. Beyond them a sudden surge of strange voices rises - high pitched, tittering shrieks and sounds not quite human.

The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbed glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses to the ground. The little thing is upon it, seeming to hack and slash with abandon, and then a few seconds later it is up, holding the dog's head in its tiny hands like a trophy. A goblin!

The little monster takes the dog's head by one ear, spins it round and round, before loosing it at Father Zantus. It hits the podium with a dull crunch, spraying tendrils of blood up the fine robes of the shocked priest.

As blood drips from the podium, and the little goblin darts from view amidst the confusion of running people, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.

It is a few seconds since the goblin disappeared.

Jokad, you were standing near the edge of the podium, hanging back and minding your own business. You know that there is a large mallet/hammer (damage 1d3) under the podium you could use, but retrieving it will take 1 round.

Danth, you were near the food stalls, trying to persuade Ameiko to give you the last piece of salmon. You stepped forward during the commotion and are now 15 foot from the podium.

Mandraiv, you were right in front of the podium, ready to observe the prayer.

Kael Saern, you were standing just behind two kids when the goblin ran past after the dog. Your instinct was to give chase, but you were delayed a little as the kids started to turn and flee. You are just 5 foot behind Mandriav now.

Jovik, you got caught up in the melee of fleeing bodies, and are in the middle of a rapidly emptying square.

Please all roll spot checks! Also roll initiative. The game has started...

Danth is startled by the sudden chaos, but at the sight of the goblin and the flinging of the blood-splattered dog's head, the young priest sets his jaw and unlimbers his morningstar. His eyes dart about as he looks for the goblin. "Where'd you go, you little blighter?"

Initiative: 9
Spot Check: 21

"Find your parents, little ones," says Kael as he moves forward enough to place himself and Mal between where the goblin went and the fleeing children. "Keep your eyes peeled, Mal, gobies don't like dogs, much."

If, or when, Kael spots the goblin, he'll call upon the arcane power in his blood, channeling it through a gesture, and loose it upon the goblin.

OOC

Depending on the range, Kael will either fire a ray of frost (if it is 25' or less) or a magic missle (if it is 25' to 100').

Kael's Magic Missle Damage (1d4+1=4)

Or

Ray of Frost's Ranged Touch Attack (1d20+2=17) and Ray of Frost Damage (1d3=2)

Kael's Initiative in Post #5 (1d20+2=12)
Kael's Spot Check in Post #5 (1d20+2=22)

"Lamashtu's teats! What was that?" Jokad unceremoniously bellows.

He instinctively moves to stand protectively in front of Father Zantus and reaches for the wooden mallet behind the podium.

He scans the fleeing crowd and the nearby shadows for further sign of the evil runts.


OOC:
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1355854

Initiative 17
Spot 20

Tactics - he is immediately concerned with protecting Father Zanthus but will immediately react to any visible threats to other innocents. He will rush into melee heedless of his lack of a real weapon or armor.

Init 1
Spot 9

Although the old man is slow to react to the scene, the defacing of a Desnan service is too much for Mandraiv. His face becomes quickly flushed with anger. He immediately moves towards the source of the chanting voices, suspecting them to be goblins come to make a mockery of the ceremony, all while speaking aloud a prayer of blessing and shouting, Ye blasphemous curs! I may be an old man but I'll deal ya a killing blow for yer dispicable act! I charge all able-bodied men and women to follow me. Let's show these creatures we won't be intimidated!

OOC: Cast bless on all within 40 ft (hope that includes some party members). +1 morale to attack and saves vs. fear.

Jovik whirls around in the crowd as it disperses. The shock rapidly being replaced by anger. He quickly scans the crowd for his family, more from instinct than from true concern. But still the thought crosses his mind that a goblin head would make his father a parting gift the old man would at least be proud of, maybe. It wasn't a fish after all. Still buoyed by youthful confidence that bordered on arrogance, Jovik pulled his dagger as he raced down the street after the goblin.

[sblock=OOC]
Jovik Spot Check in square Post 8 (1d20+4=23)

Jovik Init Post 8 (1d20+2=10)
[/sblock]

There is chaos all around. Goblin yells, insane snatches of lyrics, shrieking people fleeing, the scream of a child.

Danth, you managed to follow with your eye the fleeing goblin that killed the dog. It has scurried under a cart and runs a tongue excitedly along its over-sized blade, its eyes frantically searching out another target. This cart is to the right of the podium (as you face it), but is a good 20 feet away. More pressing, you spot a goblin clamber up onto a now-unstaffed food stall only a few feet from you. It seems to have one eye on you, and one on the grilled sardines that lie scattered around the table. This goblin actually has the initiative on you (he rolled 13), but rather than attacking he decides to grab a handful of sardines that he quickly stuffs into his gob, giggling maniacally as he then squares up to you, his dogslicer curiously waving in your face as if he thinks he might actually be able to frighten you. How strange!

Kael, you too spot the path the dog-killing goblin took, but you also spot the goblin near Danth, and, perhaps more worryingly, one little nut has actually just jumped atop a small child of about 4 years old, right on the edge of the square (about 40 feet away from you), his blade about to strike down. You also see a goblin go running at full pace towards the podium, a flaming rag stuffed into a bottle in his hands. This one is probably going to come close enough for you to try and take a swipe at him, but if you do that you will miss the chance to cast a spell at the one that is attacking the child. What do you want to do?

Jokad, you too see the path of the goblin under the cart, as well as the one that is running towards you with the lit bottle (initiative 1). If you retrieve the hammer you may not have time to intercept (it will come down to a battle of initiative rolls next turn), alternatively you can move to intercept this turn and take an unarmed attack against him.

Mandriav, you notice little other than the obvious mayhem. You were facing Father Zantus and missed much of what happened, but the screams from behind you make you catch sight of the mad goblin rushing towards you with fire. Unfortunately, due to your spot fail, you cannot act in the surprise round, but please let me know what you plan to do for next round.

Jovik, you too see everything - the child, the goblin on the stall, the one that hid under the cart, but you also see 2 goblins just there, right there. THERE! Right in front of you. 2 of them. How the hell did they get there? Well, you are still near the middle of the square, with people fleeing all around you. One of the two goblins before you is staring straight at you, the other is jumping up and down, shouting obscenities at the fleeing people. The one that is looking at you winks, and moves to attack. You, however, have the initiative on him (he got a 4, the other a 5).

Actions please for the surprise round (all except Mandriav), and also actions for the first full round (everyone), just to speed things along. If things develop suitably in the surprise round to render your first round action unnecessary, I will ask you to repost.

Danth, favored of Sarenae

His attention focused on the nearby goblin staring him down, Danth steps forward, swinging his morningstar with all of his might.




Danth attacks the nearest goblin.

Surprise Round
Attack 13, damage 9

Round 1
Attack 10, damage 8