CLOSED Pathfinder: Rise of the Runelords, Burnt Offerings
- Thread starter hewligan
- Start date
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
hewligan
First Post
The Return of Hemlock
Four days pass. Autumn is deepening. The trees turning gold, the light at the encroaching of night staining the sky red. The rain comes and goes, washing the streets clean. Clouds boil off the edges of the horizon after that, never quite getting close enough to threaten a proper storm.
Jokad
Jokad has spent his days in exploration. After the party came pain. He awoke in a soft, clean bed, with light pouring in from the windows. His head was filled with colour and disjointed pain. A proper hangover, the type he seemed to spend his life running away from, was upon him. He had no memory of much of the evening. Upon Jovik's departure, he had ordered a round of spirits, and from there things had rapidly gone fuzzy. There were games of card, he thinks, and once Danth and Kael left him, he spilled out into the main room and continued his revellery.
The ... attentions ... he tried to lavish on Amryl had not got him very far, but then he doubted that a leering, drunk, rather boastful young man was an attractive sight.
So his head had hurt, and his muscles too.
He dealt with the hangover the way he always dealt with them - he escaped into the wilds for some fresh air and a cold swim.
Each day after that had seen him awake early, leave the inn, take to the surrounding lands, and explore. He had walked miles, swam in the local rivers, cleared his head, got out from the bustle of Sandpoint, and let the fresh air and cleansing winds heal his body. Each night he returned to town to share dinner with his friends, to share an ale, and to try, each time a little more successfully, to strike up a conversation with Amryl.
She liked him. He could tell. She would linger sometimes, and then move away too quickly.
But her father was always watching.
Jokad felt changed. Stronger for his exploits, quicker with a blade, but also more balanced, more at ease with his wildness. He hadn't tamed himself. He would never tame himself, would rather die first, but he felt in control of the wildness that was such a part of him.
OOC: Just trying to build an explanation for the addition of a level as ranger.
Danth
The priest did as he knew he should. He made his presence known. He split his days between the church and the guard. He was becoming a welcome sight in both roles. People stopped him often, asking for a blessing, or pressing some small token of gratitude into his hands, from a copper to an apple, to, in the case of one old woman, a little wooden religious symbol.
He dedicated himself to renewing his connection with Saranrae. He felt her power strengthen him. He worked with the local priests to perform the cleansing of the old Catacombs. He felt the thick crust of evil slowly peel from those places. He was present at the funerals of the men who worked in the Glassworks, working to comfort the many left behind to cope with the death of their loved ones.
He kept himself furiously busy, but the whole time, at the back of his mind, was the niggling worry that he should be returning rapidly to Murimar to address the request for him that had arrived. Things were more pressing here, of that he was sure, and more importantly, the people had taken to him, and needed him, and so he would stay.
OOC: You receive the 2 Cure Light Wounds potions that were being prepared for the party. Please distribute as you desire.
Kael
Mal enjoyed the short period of rest. He would curl up in front of the fireplace and snooze while his young master read, or shared a drink with friends, or, as he did on one occassion, went gambling with Jovik.
Kael joined Danth on his patrol duty for a few hours each day, letting Mal run around at his feet. He tried to fill the days, but the feeling of being stuck here, at least until Hemlock returned, was quietly driving him mad. He understood Jokad's need to escape the confines of the town each day, and wished he could join him, but he felt a sense of duty in town, felt the need to be visible, to try and calm the townspeople, to try and act as if things were returning to normal.
In truth he desperately wanted to say farewell to the responsibilities that had been thrust upon him. He would rather face a goblin one on one that sit here waiting for them to come calling.
Jovik
Four days can go very quickly when you are having fun. Money risked, money gained, and, unfortunately, lost once or twice. At cards, at dice, and wagers. He was a small time hero now, and that seemed to give him routes into games that had previously been closed to him. A seat at every table, as long as the table was in a bar or gambling den, and a drink for free to boot (well, most of the time). Not bad!
OOC: Roll 1d20 -6, that is how many gold pieces you gain (and yes, if it is negative I want you to subtract that number from your wealth!)
Being conspicous does not come naturally to you, though, and you find the parading around town a bit uncomfortable. Instead you prefer to just weigh in with the guards on the clearup - working with Danth to clear out the Catacombs, working on the horror scene that is the Glassworks, even helping to dig graves. Anything is better than walking around all day making small talk with concerned people.
At night, however, things are different. You have fun. You gamble, you carouse, you get lucky once or twice (and slapped once or twice), and you wake up with a headache one every single morning. This, surely, is as good as life gets?
Well, not really. You are bored of it. Sandpoint still feels constraining. It is tiny, everyone knows you, and it is impossible to reinvent yourself into the person you want to be when everyone knows you as Jovik, the cheeky one, the naughty one, the bad child, the failed fisherman. Sure, they call you Jovik The Hero now, laughing as they say it, but you are just as desperate for escape as you were last week. More so, if truth be told. Sandpoint is starting to feel VERY small.
The Evening of Day Four
On the evening of the fourth day, as the sky turns purple, and as the four of you sit down together for dinner at the White Deer (where you have finally persuaded Garridan to take your coin for your custom), a messenger comes to get you. You are ushered back to the Mayor's office where Keverin smiles warmly as you arrive. Sheriff Hemlock stands beside her. He looks exhausted, his cloak dusty from the road, his boots thick with mud. Mayor Keverin speak.
"Thank you for coming. Hemlock has returned from Magnimar with some soldiers to defend the town!"
The relief is evident in her voice. Hemlock moves forward.
"They have provided ten fully trained soldiers for the duration of the winter, at least five months! It is a welcome addition to our defences, but it may not be enough. Mayor Keverin has told me about the ... horrors ... that you uncovered. I thank you, the whole town thanks you. But it worries me. Some great evil is stirring below our fair town, and now the goblins are due to attack us. Can I see the notes you recovered from Tsuto?"
He flicks through the booklet, his face creased with concern.
"Nulia is leading these beasts? I thought she was dead, but now it makes it clear that she killed her father and fled. And what demonic influence is this that Tsuto talks of? I am concerned that if the goblins attack en-masse, then even with the soldiers from Magnimar, our town may perish."
Mayor Keverin interjects.
"Sherriff Hemlock and I have been discussing this threat. The Thistletop goblins command a small complex that sits atop an island off the coast, about six miles from here. They are a strong tribe, the strongest, and it seems that they may have gained control over the other tribes. We feel that our only chance of stopping their attack before it happens is to take out their leader. We don't think they would ever have planned an attack on Sandpoint on their own. They don't have the intelligence or acumen to form allegiences let alone plan an attack. Would you be willing to take the attack to them? To try and take out their leader before they arrive at the walls of Sandpoint?"
Four days pass. Autumn is deepening. The trees turning gold, the light at the encroaching of night staining the sky red. The rain comes and goes, washing the streets clean. Clouds boil off the edges of the horizon after that, never quite getting close enough to threaten a proper storm.
Jokad
Jokad has spent his days in exploration. After the party came pain. He awoke in a soft, clean bed, with light pouring in from the windows. His head was filled with colour and disjointed pain. A proper hangover, the type he seemed to spend his life running away from, was upon him. He had no memory of much of the evening. Upon Jovik's departure, he had ordered a round of spirits, and from there things had rapidly gone fuzzy. There were games of card, he thinks, and once Danth and Kael left him, he spilled out into the main room and continued his revellery.
The ... attentions ... he tried to lavish on Amryl had not got him very far, but then he doubted that a leering, drunk, rather boastful young man was an attractive sight.
So his head had hurt, and his muscles too.
He dealt with the hangover the way he always dealt with them - he escaped into the wilds for some fresh air and a cold swim.
Each day after that had seen him awake early, leave the inn, take to the surrounding lands, and explore. He had walked miles, swam in the local rivers, cleared his head, got out from the bustle of Sandpoint, and let the fresh air and cleansing winds heal his body. Each night he returned to town to share dinner with his friends, to share an ale, and to try, each time a little more successfully, to strike up a conversation with Amryl.
She liked him. He could tell. She would linger sometimes, and then move away too quickly.
But her father was always watching.
Jokad felt changed. Stronger for his exploits, quicker with a blade, but also more balanced, more at ease with his wildness. He hadn't tamed himself. He would never tame himself, would rather die first, but he felt in control of the wildness that was such a part of him.
OOC: Just trying to build an explanation for the addition of a level as ranger.
Danth
The priest did as he knew he should. He made his presence known. He split his days between the church and the guard. He was becoming a welcome sight in both roles. People stopped him often, asking for a blessing, or pressing some small token of gratitude into his hands, from a copper to an apple, to, in the case of one old woman, a little wooden religious symbol.
He dedicated himself to renewing his connection with Saranrae. He felt her power strengthen him. He worked with the local priests to perform the cleansing of the old Catacombs. He felt the thick crust of evil slowly peel from those places. He was present at the funerals of the men who worked in the Glassworks, working to comfort the many left behind to cope with the death of their loved ones.
He kept himself furiously busy, but the whole time, at the back of his mind, was the niggling worry that he should be returning rapidly to Murimar to address the request for him that had arrived. Things were more pressing here, of that he was sure, and more importantly, the people had taken to him, and needed him, and so he would stay.
OOC: You receive the 2 Cure Light Wounds potions that were being prepared for the party. Please distribute as you desire.
Kael
Mal enjoyed the short period of rest. He would curl up in front of the fireplace and snooze while his young master read, or shared a drink with friends, or, as he did on one occassion, went gambling with Jovik.
Kael joined Danth on his patrol duty for a few hours each day, letting Mal run around at his feet. He tried to fill the days, but the feeling of being stuck here, at least until Hemlock returned, was quietly driving him mad. He understood Jokad's need to escape the confines of the town each day, and wished he could join him, but he felt a sense of duty in town, felt the need to be visible, to try and calm the townspeople, to try and act as if things were returning to normal.
In truth he desperately wanted to say farewell to the responsibilities that had been thrust upon him. He would rather face a goblin one on one that sit here waiting for them to come calling.
Jovik
Four days can go very quickly when you are having fun. Money risked, money gained, and, unfortunately, lost once or twice. At cards, at dice, and wagers. He was a small time hero now, and that seemed to give him routes into games that had previously been closed to him. A seat at every table, as long as the table was in a bar or gambling den, and a drink for free to boot (well, most of the time). Not bad!
OOC: Roll 1d20 -6, that is how many gold pieces you gain (and yes, if it is negative I want you to subtract that number from your wealth!)
Being conspicous does not come naturally to you, though, and you find the parading around town a bit uncomfortable. Instead you prefer to just weigh in with the guards on the clearup - working with Danth to clear out the Catacombs, working on the horror scene that is the Glassworks, even helping to dig graves. Anything is better than walking around all day making small talk with concerned people.
At night, however, things are different. You have fun. You gamble, you carouse, you get lucky once or twice (and slapped once or twice), and you wake up with a headache one every single morning. This, surely, is as good as life gets?
Well, not really. You are bored of it. Sandpoint still feels constraining. It is tiny, everyone knows you, and it is impossible to reinvent yourself into the person you want to be when everyone knows you as Jovik, the cheeky one, the naughty one, the bad child, the failed fisherman. Sure, they call you Jovik The Hero now, laughing as they say it, but you are just as desperate for escape as you were last week. More so, if truth be told. Sandpoint is starting to feel VERY small.
The Evening of Day Four
On the evening of the fourth day, as the sky turns purple, and as the four of you sit down together for dinner at the White Deer (where you have finally persuaded Garridan to take your coin for your custom), a messenger comes to get you. You are ushered back to the Mayor's office where Keverin smiles warmly as you arrive. Sheriff Hemlock stands beside her. He looks exhausted, his cloak dusty from the road, his boots thick with mud. Mayor Keverin speak.
"Thank you for coming. Hemlock has returned from Magnimar with some soldiers to defend the town!"
The relief is evident in her voice. Hemlock moves forward.
"They have provided ten fully trained soldiers for the duration of the winter, at least five months! It is a welcome addition to our defences, but it may not be enough. Mayor Keverin has told me about the ... horrors ... that you uncovered. I thank you, the whole town thanks you. But it worries me. Some great evil is stirring below our fair town, and now the goblins are due to attack us. Can I see the notes you recovered from Tsuto?"
He flicks through the booklet, his face creased with concern.
"Nulia is leading these beasts? I thought she was dead, but now it makes it clear that she killed her father and fled. And what demonic influence is this that Tsuto talks of? I am concerned that if the goblins attack en-masse, then even with the soldiers from Magnimar, our town may perish."
Mayor Keverin interjects.
"Sherriff Hemlock and I have been discussing this threat. The Thistletop goblins command a small complex that sits atop an island off the coast, about six miles from here. They are a strong tribe, the strongest, and it seems that they may have gained control over the other tribes. We feel that our only chance of stopping their attack before it happens is to take out their leader. We don't think they would ever have planned an attack on Sandpoint on their own. They don't have the intelligence or acumen to form allegiences let alone plan an attack. Would you be willing to take the attack to them? To try and take out their leader before they arrive at the walls of Sandpoint?"
Rhun
First Post
Danth stands and nods. "I've already discussed this plan with my companions; A first strike against the goblins will weaken and demoralize them, and if we can kill or capture their leader, than so much the better." The young priest unconsciously touches the holy symbol of Sarenae that hangs from his neck as he continues. "It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak; evil must be opposed. I freely volunteer for this mission, to take the attack to our foeman. I am certain that the rest of my companions feel the same way that I do."
OOC: Danth will give one of the potions of cure light wounds to Jokad, and the other to Jovik. The reasoning is that they are more likely to take damage in combat than Kael is, and that Danth can heal himself if seperated...
OOC: Danth will give one of the potions of cure light wounds to Jokad, and the other to Jovik. The reasoning is that they are more likely to take damage in combat than Kael is, and that Danth can heal himself if seperated...
Jokad's days outside of town call to his deeper soul. The cool sea breeze stirs memories of a more bitter wind blowing across a craggy broken plain. The spirits of his ancestors seem to call to him. With greater clarity he recalls the lessons of his father. He begins to 'think' like an animal and the logic greatly aids him in tracking both man and beast. His prowess with arms increases as well. His new clarity evokes images of his clan's ancient feud with the giant-kin of the Storval Plateau and he begins to practice the techniques used to establish dominance over the brutish monsters.
He rejoices daily in the fierce renewal of his birthright but ever do his thoughts trail back to the small town that has become his home and a certain wild-eyed girl that has caught his eye. A very real danger grows somewhere to the north; a threat he must face to save a group of people he hardly knows. Someone philosophical might question this course but to Jokad it just seems 'right'. No further thought is wasted on why.
This past night he returned with some wildflowers he found still struggling against winter's swift approach and early this morning he left them in Garridan's barn knowing that Amryl will surely find them when she goes to milk their cow.
He finds himself daydreaming about how she will 'reward' him when the guards at the northern gate hail him.
It seems there will be no running free this day. Sheriff Hemlock has returned and his presence has been requested at the town hall.
______________________________________________________
<After the speeches of Sheriff Hemlock, Mayor Deverin, and Danth's elloquent response>
Jokad also stands and claps a strong hand on Danth's shoulder in confirmation. He looks directly at Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Deverin and speaks in a voice low and menacing, "Can't ever kill enough goblins.... and I ain't much for waiting."
"I stand ready to take the fight to their burrows."
He rejoices daily in the fierce renewal of his birthright but ever do his thoughts trail back to the small town that has become his home and a certain wild-eyed girl that has caught his eye. A very real danger grows somewhere to the north; a threat he must face to save a group of people he hardly knows. Someone philosophical might question this course but to Jokad it just seems 'right'. No further thought is wasted on why.
This past night he returned with some wildflowers he found still struggling against winter's swift approach and early this morning he left them in Garridan's barn knowing that Amryl will surely find them when she goes to milk their cow.
He finds himself daydreaming about how she will 'reward' him when the guards at the northern gate hail him.
It seems there will be no running free this day. Sheriff Hemlock has returned and his presence has been requested at the town hall.
______________________________________________________
<After the speeches of Sheriff Hemlock, Mayor Deverin, and Danth's elloquent response>
Jokad also stands and claps a strong hand on Danth's shoulder in confirmation. He looks directly at Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Deverin and speaks in a voice low and menacing, "Can't ever kill enough goblins.... and I ain't much for waiting."
"I stand ready to take the fight to their burrows."
Friadoc
Explorer
OOC
Post #625 - Wealth Adjustment (1d20-6=4) - Looks like 4 GPs.
Okay, I totally misread that sentence, that was meant for Jovik, not Kael. Feh.
Sorry.
Post #625 - Wealth Adjustment (1d20-6=4) - Looks like 4 GPs.
Okay, I totally misread that sentence, that was meant for Jovik, not Kael. Feh.
Sorry.
Last edited:
Fenris
Adventurer
Jovik wins and loses coin over the next few days, but ends his spree up a few coins Jovik Gambling Post 626 (1d20-6=3)
not bad considering he didn't pay for anything else during that time.
But despite his time, which a few weeks ago would have seemed like paradise, Jovik find the town oppresive, his drinking, gambling and carousing are really just ways of getting his mind off the horrors the he saw and the horrors here in town. Every building seemed like a prison, every person a jailor. Jovik needed freedom like a fish needs water and the longer he waited the worse it was getting. He took his stuff from his house and had made that jump to adulthood the way he wanted to. But now he wanted out, desperately. He needed new drinks, new sights, new loves. A change.
So when the mayor asks them to attack Sandpoint Jovik immediately jumped up and said "Hell yes!", taking Hemlock by surprise, both from startling him but that this young theif he was chasing just a few months ago was now volunteering to put his life on the line to defend the town.
But for Jovik it meant leaving town, getting away. The cliffs were dull these days, and he hungered for new sights, even battle was getting to be a craving for him now.
OOC: Thanks for the CLW potion. I weanted to get the new dagger checked out during this time as well.
not bad considering he didn't pay for anything else during that time.
But despite his time, which a few weeks ago would have seemed like paradise, Jovik find the town oppresive, his drinking, gambling and carousing are really just ways of getting his mind off the horrors the he saw and the horrors here in town. Every building seemed like a prison, every person a jailor. Jovik needed freedom like a fish needs water and the longer he waited the worse it was getting. He took his stuff from his house and had made that jump to adulthood the way he wanted to. But now he wanted out, desperately. He needed new drinks, new sights, new loves. A change.
So when the mayor asks them to attack Sandpoint Jovik immediately jumped up and said "Hell yes!", taking Hemlock by surprise, both from startling him but that this young theif he was chasing just a few months ago was now volunteering to put his life on the line to defend the town.
But for Jovik it meant leaving town, getting away. The cliffs were dull these days, and he hungered for new sights, even battle was getting to be a craving for him now.
OOC: Thanks for the CLW potion. I weanted to get the new dagger checked out during this time as well.
Rhun
First Post
Danth turns his attention back to the Mayor and Sheriff Hemlock. "I would like to better equip myself before assaulting the goblin stronghold, though. Is there a place in town where we can secure better weapons and armor?"
I'm not even sure how much accumulated wealth we have...we might not even have enough?
I'm not even sure how much accumulated wealth we have...we might not even have enough?
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