HM's Rise of the Runelords - IC

Welcome to something I have been waiting on a long, long time. To run the granddaddy of all the other great Pathfinder APs, makes me feel like a kid living in a hobby store.

When I finally got my copy of the Anniversary Edition I could hardly put it down. It has everything an epic tale of heroes saving the world should have, and spares no expense on the great locations, NPCs and treasure.

So let us begin because Sanpoint needs us!

HM

Adventure NOTEs and LINKs

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Sandpoint is what some refer to as a jewel in the rough, or maybe a barbed blade in hand. Although it is shiny and new it has spots that can cut to the quick if you let it.

The most notable of these unseen dangers in the short history of Sandpoint occurred in the winter of 4702, and are referred to locally as "the late unpleasantness." The people of Sandpoint would prefer to put the unsavory disasters behind them, but five years is not long enough to fully forget these events. Within the course of only a few years, a string of murders by a ruthless killer known as "Chopper" and a great fire which destroyed the iconic chapel and many of the surrounding buildings ravaged the town both physically and emotionally. A grand cathedral has since been built and the people of Sandpoint are finally optimistic about their future.

And that is what today is all about. Today is the day of the Swallowtail Festival and the dedication and consecration of the new Sanpoint Cathedral. And all of Sandpoint has come out to celebrate.

As you walk through the streets to where the main part of the festival is being held (before the Cathedral itself) you see all types of vendors and performers. Tents are being set up everywhere there is space and everyone is excited about the games, acts, and food to shortly come.

Some of the games are about to start and you walk through the crowd thoroughfare to watch. Tug-of-War and Log Splitting contest dominate those looking to test their strength, while a log beam set above the ground is set to spin in place and test those who think they have the dexterity to transverse it.

A vendor hands out hot meat pies for everyone to sample and as you eat the palm-sized spicy pastry you decide on where it is you think your talents lie.

Jenayah Asasehn - Mystic Skirmisher (Oracle (Wind)//Fighter (Mobile)) 01

Jenayah strides boldly through the crowds at the festival, looking around with a sense of wonder that, while completely at odds with her carriage and armament, makes it plain that in spite of the fact that she towers over most everyone there she's still quite young. Her companion is a full head shorter than his friend, and his compact build is a contrast to her lean, wiry musculature. Her long, silky black ponytail apparently takes on a life of its own as she leans down to speak into his ear, reaching out against the prevailing coastal breeze and wrapping playfully around his head, tickling his ear and partly obscuring his vision. Jenayah gathers it up and drops it over her other shoulder in an unconscious gesture plainly born of long familiarity. "Sorry, Wesh. Now this is a celebration worth seeing! I'm glad you talked me into coming into town for it!"
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[sblock=Stat Block]
JEYANAH ASASEHN CR 1/2
Female Human (Shoanti) Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +3; Senses Perception +1
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DEFENSE
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AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14. . (+4 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 14 (1d10)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
Weakness Haunted
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OFFENSE
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Spd 35 ft.
Melee
. . Cestus +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Curve Blade, Elven +4 (1d10+1/18-20/x2)
. . Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Hanbo +4 (1d6+1/20/x2)
. . Unarmed Strike +4 (1d3+1/20/x2)
Special Attacks
. . Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day)
Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) Spells Known (CL 1, +4 melee touch, +4 ranged touch):
1 (4/day) Shield of Faith (DC 14), Cure Light Wounds (DC 14), Burning Disarm (DC 14)
0 (at will) Mending, Mage Hand, Ghost Sound (DC 13), Sotto Voce (DC 13), Light, Enhanced Diplomacy, Spark (DC 13)
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STATISTICS
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Str 13, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 15
Feats Exotic Weapon Proficiency: Curve Blade, Elven, Persuasive, Totem Spirit - Tamiir-Quah (Wind Clan), Weapon Finesse
Traits Bred for War (Shoanti), Fast-Talker, Giant Slayer
Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +8, Climb +0, Diplomacy +9, Escape Artist +2, Fly +2, Heal +4, Intimidate +10, Perception +1, Ride +2, Sense Motive +5, Stealth +2, Swim +0
Languages Common, Shoanti, Varisian
Combat Gear
Cestus, Curve Blade, Elven, Dagger (3), Dagger, Hanbo, Masterwork Chain Shirt
Other Gear
Backpack, Masterwork (9 @ 14 lbs), Bag, Waterproof (5 @ 1.5 lbs), Bedroll, Charcoal Stick, Flint and steel, Ink (1 oz. vial, black), Inkpen, Journal, Lantern, hooded, Potion of Cure Light Wounds, Rations, trail (per day) (4), Soap, Bar (50 uses), Whetstone, Wrist sheath, spring loaded (1 @ 1 lbs)
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Giant Slayer +1 Bluff, Perception, Sense Motive, attack and damage against giants.
Haunted Retrieving stored gear is a Standard action or worse, dropped items land 10' away.
Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day) (Su) Melee touch attack deals 1d6+1 Electricity damage.
--------------------
"The giants took my family . . . not my life, though I thought it at the time.

"I was born into the Otòn tribe of the Tamiir-Quah Shaonti 17 summers past. My life in the mountains of northern Varisia was good; I had the love and respect of my family, and I excelled in the games and contests my people use for preparing their youth to enter the world as adults.

"But I never reached my passage. On the eve of my name-day and marking ceremony - the 14th anniversary of my birth - the giants attacked my tribe and slaughtered all of my kin. I was 'spared' only because I had retreated to our sacred cave to prepare myself for my naming. Lost in the trance my people use for ground and center, I did not even hear the sounds of the ending of my world.

"When I 'awoke' and went to join my people, my ground was shattered, my center blown away by the storm of slaughter revealed to my eyes.

"The tempest of my grief was almost my destruction, but I lived through the body of the storm and eventually found it's eye. A . . . presence . . . called to me, caught me up and anchored me in calm. I know not the length of time I spent within the eye of my grief-storm, listening to the council of winds all around me, but when the eye released me from its calm I found that I had passed through the other edge of my sorrow. The winds that once howled of the passing of my tribe now sing to me of purpose, though I know not what it is.

"Bereft of kith and kin, past the age of my youth but unable to live amongst the Shaonti as an adult because I had not completed my naming, I left the mountains of Varisia. For the past three years I have traveled the land, doing what I can to preserve my honor and hone my skills as I seek the purpose to which the wind calls me. I have met many people, made many friends; I have learned much of the calling of the wind and improved my martial skills.

"I know that the Otòn continue - they whisper to me when the winds are quiet, they play their mischievous tricks upon me to remind me of their presence. It is not much, but it suffices. I am at peace.

Except for the giants."

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[/sblock]

Wesh swallows a mouthful of the delicious hot meat pie. "Sandpoint certainly has its charms," he says, smiling. "If you really want to get the most out of the fun, you're going to have to join in the games, Jenayah. Me? I fancy myself the sort for balancing the log."

He takes another bite of the hot meat pie, touches the Jenayah on the arm, pointing towards the suspended log, and heads over to put his name in.

Chase Lockwood - Woodsman

Chase quickly finishes off the meat pie he was given. It was good, but perhaps a bit overseasoned. Of course, the woodsman was used to flavoring his meals with whatever herbs he could find growing wildly, so perhaps it was his sense of taste that was out of sorts. With a smile, he turned his attention to the games.

He considered both the log balancing and log splitting. The woodsman was more agile than he was strong, but he'd chopped a large amount of wood in his life...perhaps that would give him an edge?

The masts of Horizon's Kiss were not tall after the ships Khepri had seen in the harbors of Magnimar, but the ship was quick and its men cheerful, so the trip was far more pleasant than the one across the sea proper had been. In truth, though she had read about oceans before, the sight of all that water had been dizzying at first...and the motion of the ship on the deep sea waves had confined her to her quarters for a great deal of the journey.

Now the day was sunny and bright, the wind brisk and fresh, and she'd had her 'sea legs' for days now. She was on deck when the Kiss came in sight of the Old Light. The ancient spire of stone was just how the books had described it, looming over the town from atop its sheer cliffs; its top broken off long ago, leaving only a great stone tube behind. It had been a lighthouse, used by ancient Thassilon, or so the scholastic community agreed.

Khepri's heart leapt to see it, and it was all she could do to stop herself from a most unseemly dance on the ship's deck. She had arrived!

---------------

The mood in the town echoed the young sage's perfectly. Having paid the captain what was left of the gold she owed him for the trip and given her goodbyes, Khepri found the small town in a state of celebration. A festival! Truly, the gods smiled on her endeavors!

With a broad smile, marred only by the meat pie she was polishing off, Khepri let her the hood of her white robes down, letting her rich dark skin show, and her black hair, curled into tubular locks in the style not uncommon in Osirion. Beyond that, the pouches and pockets that adorned her garments, along with the traveling journal at her side, and the scrollcases dangling from her belt, clearly suggested her occupation. Despite the dangers of travel, she carried no weapon, wore no armor. She needed neither, and either would only have slowed her down in a crisis.

She was a stranger in these lands, but had never felt so welcome since leaving the Mountain of Scribes. Sandpoint had so much to see...she started with the great cathedral, since that's what the celebration was about. How did this community of natives and colonists venerate their gods? The answer could find its way into her book!

Chase steps up to his turn at the log chopping race. He studies his piece of lumber for a few seconds before nodding he is ready.

[sblock=OOC] You could try a aid another yourself - Survival - for this. If you success then a +2 will apply to your first Strength check.

This is a race to see who can chop through the log first. You need to make two consecutive DC 10 STR checks before your opponent - I would roll in groups of 5 over on IC.[/sblock]

Jenayah and Wesh wait in line watching performers tumble by and then the men in front of them try and make it across the log. Some stand very still and then try and make it a few steps while others hurry across at neck break speeds. But none make it all the way to the other side of the spinning tree. The crowd ohhs and ahhs as men stand waving their arms or when the fall into the sawdust below.

[sblock=OOC]For this it is simple make an Acrobatics check to keep your balance as you cross. The distance is 40 feet, (so 3 checks at half speed, 2 if at full speed) DC's are 12 at half speed and 17 at full speed.[/sblock]

Khepri makes her way up the hill from the docks and sees all sorts of colorful stalls holding all sorts of merchandise. She looks about for a bookseller or scribe but what she finds is a table full of children's books with an older man with a bushy white goatee and thin rimmed glasses standing behind it.

"May I help you? Here you might like this one," he says holding out a book with a painted flower on the front. "It has many drawings and a few short poems."

Wesh patiently waits his turn to have a go at crossing the spinning tree. He watches the man in front of him take a tumble, and then it is his turn to step up. "Wish me luck," he says to Jenayah, winking.

Sandpoint's favoured son confidently hops onto the raised platform. Just keep your cool and you got this. He figures that would be better off to take it slow and let his natural skill do the work, rather than take a chance to run quickly across.

Wesh puts his arms out and takes the first few steps onto the spinning log. His balance is almost perfect. A third of the way across and he can begin to feel the log tugging him to one side, but his dexterity and training allow him to easy span the distance, weaving back and forth only a few times to keep his balance. He reaches the other side and steps off, a huge grin on his face. He takes a bow for the cheering crowd, then hops down off the platform.

Turning to Jenayah, his grin widens as he says, "Next up."

Khepri politely turned a few pages before replacing the book on the table and meeting the old man's eyes with a kindly smile.

"My interest is in books you'd not likely bring to a festival to sell, I'm afraid," she replied, her Osisi accent clipping her consonants and rounding her vowels slightly. "I've come to see the Old Light, and the other lost places of Thassilon. I've come a very long way to do this."

"I would very much like to see the writings of others who have come before me though. Do you have such things in your shop?"