CLOSED Pathfinder: Rise of the Runelords, Burnt Offerings

[frostrune]

OOC: Very cool. I love the Wolves of Sandpoint idea.

Jokad is leveled up and he added the 'flaming' property to the magical longsword he recovered from the Goblin champion. He has now dubbed it 'Whitefire'.

We have Nualia's bastard sword (possibly magical), her bow, a bunch of papers/journals/scrolls, and I have no idea what else. It would be nice to know what our treasure haul is but at this point I am guessing that to be near impossible. I am showing 11 gp on my charcater sheet. Hewligan, if you can't re-create our treasure list perhaps you can just give us an approxmiate lump sum division? Jokad BADLY needs new armor and I am sure there are a zillion other things we all need (group wand of CLW anyone?). Kind of difficult to buy stuff when I have no idea what I have to work with.

I will definitely post something about Jokad's 1st night back when I get a spare moment.

Looking forward to more.

 

[frostrune]

"You will be heroes here. We will make you freemen of this town. We will make a Charter of the Wolves of Sandpoint, and you will be its members. We have little money to speak of here, but I do still have some political power, and I will work hard to have Magnimar reward you!"

At last, the meal is over, and talk is done. You get to leave your macabre cargo behind and leave for a night of drinking and sleep. The horse is stabled by the guards, and the ale will flow.

Jokad nods to the Mayor and the Sherriff before he heads out the door. He pauses with his companions once outside.

Jokad sucks in a deep breath of the cool night air and takes a monstrous bite from probably the 5th apple you have seen him eat. "Well lads where to?", the mischevious gleam in his eye is unmistakable.

"HEH. I look a sorry mess for a night out on the town," he shrugs... and he does. It already seems like ages ago when he nearly bled out on the flagstones when in reality it was but a few hours. Despite Danth's best efforts he still bore grevious wounds and his remaining clothing was torn and blood soaked. Jovik wasn't much better.

"Perhaps a proper bath first, eh? Well a beer or two then a bath. THEN I'll be ready to make a proper showing. I'm heading to the White Deer... <he hesitates seeing Jovik's sly look> to stow my gear and get a hot bath," he finishes pointedly. "Where shall I meet you?"

Kael and Danth seem inclined to head to the Rusty Dragon and check in on Ameiko, Jovik to the Hagfish. The town wasn't big enough to hide in. He'd find them.

Jokad takes another bite of his apple and trudges back off to the north, his smile growing with every step.

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

Jokad heaves the apple core into the shadows and strides right up to main doors of the White Deer. Muffled voices certainly can be heard from within but the crowd is hardly raucous.

He presses the door open and ducks beneath the lintel. The rush of bright light blinds him for a moment but the silence of the room is certainly obvious.

When his eyes clear he sees a bunch of worried and expectant faces. He remembers what a sorry mess he looks like. The townsfolk probably think he's staggering in on death's door.

"No worries folks," he booms, "The goblins are dead. Their fort is burnt... AND BY THE GODS I'M THIRSTY."

The collective sigh of relief is audible. The jubulent reaction moreso. The room erupts in various calls for 'thanks' or 'good job' and of course numerous calls for ale and wine. A zillion questions come at him at once but Jokad just limps through the crowd on the way to the bar.

Old Garridan is already filling him a mug of Shoanti Stout and the proud look on the man's face gives Jokad a glimmer of hope with Amryl. "Where was the girl anyway?" he thinks to himself. No sense in looking, the press around him was too thick.

He lifts his mug and drinks like he just crawled out of the Cinderlands. He wipes the foam from his lips on the back of his grimy hand and claps the empty mug back on the bar.

"Look folks I'm tired, I'm filthy, and I'm as sore as a gelded bull. I know you have questions and I'll tell you the tale but right now I need another beer, a hot bath, and some new clothes."

"Garridan, can you help me out?"

A second beer was already on the way.

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

To his surprise Jokad awoke as another bucket of steaming water was dumped into the overfilled tub.

"Gods did this feel good!" he thinks to himself even though he was jammed into a wash basin far too small for his lanky frame. Garridan's wife, Leah, smiled at him. There was not even the slightest chance of modesty in the small tub and apparently they 'found' other duties for their eldest daughter. He still hadn't seen a glimpse of the girl.

Never one to be terribly modest, he didn't mind too much until the older woman insisted upon inspecting and dressing the savage wound on his thigh. That was a bit awkward, but thankfully brief.

His clothes were all but destroyed so she brought him some of Garridan's. Simple woolen breeches and a tunic. They were a bit small but servicable. When he was ready, he threw back the curtain that separated the small room from the bustling kitchen. And there, finally, was Amryl... and one of her sisters.

Jokad smirked, "I believe you owe me a kiss?"

"I remember no such bargain," she replied flatly. She was busy chopping vegetables and didn't look up to meet his gaze. She blushed a bit however. Her sister giggled making her blush all the more.

Before Jokad could reply Amryl's mother returned. Jokad quickly thanked her and headed out into the main taproom but not before making eye contact with Amryl one final time.

From there the night became a blur. It seemed as if folk were breathlessly waiting for the lad to re-emerge. The questions came anew, as did the congratulatory drinks. He caught only fleeting glimpses of Amryl all night and it became apparent early on that he was never going to get out and meet his friends. Eventually even the strongest men succumb to the power of alcohol. Young Jokad fought far longer than he probably should have and he would pay for it.

He awoke to an army of ogres marching through his head and little Amryl's mother could concoct offered much relief. Still he had too much pride not to respond to the Mayor's summons the next day. His friends seemed a little green as well. Their stories would have to wait for another day however. As soon as it was over Jokad hurried back to his bunk at the church. Maybe Father Zanthus had some miracle cure for hangovers? He needed to sleep

 

[Friadoc]

OOC

Kael would like spell storing placed on his quarterstaff, as it makes the most sense and, as we've seen, it is nice to have an extra spell or two on hand.

Updating PC in other thread, IC arrival post follows in new post.

 

[Rhun]

Placeholder for danth

 

[hewligan]

It had been shortly after dinner, and Danth had returned to his room to have a hot bath that had been prepared for him at considerable cost (a silver piece, for a bath!) In fact, when he had been told what it would cost to prepare the hot water for him, he almost changed his mind, but then he remembered just how much money he probably had now. The treasure, the coin they had received in payment, the gold they would no doubt be able to raise from the items they had recovered ... he wasn't sure how much it would come to, but it must be over 100 gold. That was a small fortune.

He would probably donate it to the church.

It was then that he recalled the original message he had received at the swallowtail festival. The message demanding his immediate return to Magnimar. That had been ... his mind tried to count back ... over a week ago now. Damn!

But still, he had paid for his bath, and he would have that, and enjoy his night of drinking and dancing and laughing, and then, in the morning, he would make his farewells and head back south to the city state that he called home.

It was not to be. He had been changing into a clean set of clothes when the knock came on the door. "One moment!" he had called out, and hurried with his dressing. When he had answered the door, a town guard was waiting for him.

"Sheriff Hemlock sent me. A messenger has arrived for you from Magnimar. I am to lead you to him without delay!"

And so his night of revelry had been stolen from him. He hadn't even got the chance to say farewell.

---

The message had not been good. In fact, it had changed his life. "Father Dretharius is dead."

---

The return journey was a blur. A fast ride through the night. A change of horses at a halfway tavern, and then another long ride. His body ached. Every part of it ached, until even the pain became just another wash of colour to augment the tiredness that commanded his body.

Father Dretharius was dead.

How could it be? He was only fifty, healthy, and well loved. The messenger knew nothing else. Just a hired rider paid good gold to make the trip in record time. He pulled some strings to get the change of horses, seemed to know every waypoint along the route, but was not the most social of characters. He only got to sleep once, at a tiny inn with a single communal room. He couldn't have cared, the rolled cloak pillow did the job beautifully, and he fell into the deepest sleep. He dreamed of Nualia, only he saw her as she may have looked before her demonic infection. She was barely more than a child.

And then he had been awakened from his sleep. A new horse awaited, and another long leg of the journey.

---

Magnimar was a bustle of noise by the time Danth arrived. Mid day, only a day and a half after leaving Sandpoint. The city was alive, and the trade taking place along the avenues was brisk. The Varisian travelers were here in numbers, partaking in commerce to prepare for the heavy rains of autumn.

He dismounted and led his exhausted horse to the small complex of Sarenrae beneath the Irespan bridge.

It was a mixed complex, in truth three ancient, decrepit town houses, a small walled yard, and a small wooden tower that seemed to lean more perilously each year. The church was not strong in Magnimar, and there were only five clerical staff based here. The true role of the church of Sarenrae in Magnimar was to help displaced children. Two of the townhouses acted as small orphanages, one for boys, one for girls. Danth knew every nook and cranny of them - he had spent twelve of his first fifteen years growing up within them.

Even then the church has been led by Father Dretharius. He had taken a bequest from the church and moved to Magnimar to build a presence for the church of Sarenrae. Instead he had found himself moved by the poverty of the people who dwelled beneath the shadow of the ancient Irespan bridge, and had set up the orphanages. Danth had been one of the first children taken in. His first memory was of the orphanage.

---

That first day in Magnimar was a blur. They had summoned him a week before. They had tried to wait, but in the end they had offered his remains up to Sarenrae, burning him as was the custom.

The clerical staff, old and young, hung around Danth with reverence and nervousness.

He had been murdered. Murders were not uncommon, but most were petty fights or criminal gangs taking out their turf wars on one another. This had been different. He had been carved apart, his face removed, strange runes cut into his flesh. Why? Why would someone do this to him?

The complex felt strangely empty without him. Sure, the lively mass of children still ran from class to class, played pebble-dash on the lawn, and played tricks on one another, but there was an absence.

Danth had taken it stoically. He had spent almost two days letting the news sink in on his ride back. Sure, the facts of the murder shocked him, but what was clear was that people needed him to be strong.

It didn't take long to find out why.

---

Father Dretharius had made it clear to his other clerics that Danth would take over the leadership of the order in Magnimar if, when, he was to pass on. In fact, he had made it clear to the others that sending Danth to represent the church at the Swallowtail festival in Sandpoint was part of this. He had spotted something in the youth, a strength of character, but also something else, some favour that the goddess has laid upon him. And more. They spoke of dreams he had had. Dreams he had shared only with Song Master Moralin. The old cleric had claimed that Sarenrae had spoken with him, told him that the church would grow in the north. Not just in Magnimar, but across the northern lands, and that Danth was part of this flourishing.

And so Danth inherited the small church complex and orphanage of Sarenrae in Magnimar.

Father Danth, he became. Father Danth, Favoured of Sarenrae, Servant of the People of Magnimar. His clerics and teachers and lay people served him well. He found that the role just clicked. There was much to be done. People had been panicked by the horrific killing, and it took some time to calm the small number of worshipers who came to speak through him on holy day.

In time his congregation grew. People took to his sermons. They connected with his as he mirrored their own lives. He was one of them, an orphan who pulled himself up and found the hand of Sarenrae to guide him. He taught them that she was a god that wanted people to act, to change, to do what they knew they had to do to make their lives right. And his congregation grew.

---

Six months passed. Winter fell upon the city and a wicked flu struck the residents of the desperately poor Irespan district. It saddened Danth to watch the orphanage grow. Eight children in one season. A tragedy!

He did not forget his friends, or his exploits. News of his heroism reached Magnimar with the caravans, each time growing with the telling. He became a bit of a local legend. Once of twice the older kids had asked to see his scimitar, had asked if the woman had really become a demon. Did she breath fire? Did she fly? Is it true the Sinspawn's had heads that opened up to reveal rows after rows of teeth. He would just laugh, and offer some platitude that heroism was measurable in small acts.

When a Magi sent an acolyte from the high college to collect his favoured weapon to enchant, from order of the city leaders as reward for his bravery, he had refused at first, and then pragmatism overcame him, and he gave up his weapon. He wondered if he would ever wield a weapon in anger again.

---

And then one cold morning in late March, just as the snow laden routes north were opening up to trade again, he heard the news. Another murder, this one in Sandpoint, and the same carving of the flesh.

He knew he had to travel north again. He had actually allowed himself to forget about the horrific method of Father Dretharius' murder. He had been so busy, so preoccupied, that he had let himself push it deep. Suddenly it was all that consumed him. The news of the murder, sent to him, and him alone, by a scout direct from Mayor Deverin, was not common knowledge. And worse ... the note said that it was not the first. Not even the first in Sandpoint.

And so for the first time in six months he picked up his armour, his weapons, and his pack, and prepared himself for travel. He would uncover the murderer of his mentor, his ... the man that had been like his father!

He left the orphanage in the hands of his clerics, the numbers now swollen to six, and took the trade route north.

 

[Fenris]

Jovik was in high spirits for the walk back. He was whistling and tossing Gull's Wing about in the air, cutting down leaves and nimbly catching the balde as it whirled back to his hand. He loved that sound.

And why shouldn't he be in high spirits, he had survived. Jovik always survived. This time Desna had truely smiled upon him. He had gotten out of mnay pickles and close calls before, but this one trumped them all. He had cheated death. The severity of the event had already faded in his mind, and the bravado of youth returned. Jovik had tumbled and stabbed his way to an adventure and a pile of treasure. He had opened the chieftans' chest and helped defeat the demon who had been terrorizing Sandpoint. His family would be safe.

Each step closer to Sandpoint made the memory fade and his spirits soar. He practically skipped into town. Jokad merely shook his head and wondeed yet again about the lanky youth.

Jovik silently headed over to his parents house. The house was dark, fishermen get up early, another reason Jovik hated the profession. He easily picked the lock, it was the one he learned on. Crept over to the small kitchen table theat fed him for so long and left a small bag of gold and a short note (I'm back and safe. Jovik) before leaving as quietly as he had come, locking the door behind him.

He turned his feet to the Hagfish where he had a rousing welcome. The beer came quickly as did demands for tales. Jovik told a few, and they always had him as the most heroic, central figure it seems. But in night filled with kisses and beers and stories, is heart wasn't in it. His normal luck at cards even gave out. Desna can take as well as give he thought, and didn't complain at losing for once.

It had been a long, long day, the night was getting long, word spread that Jovik was in the Hagfish and it was getting more packed by the hour. Exhaustion was overtaking Jovik, but youth is a curious thing, it provides the body with rest and nourishment or no reason at all.

Jovik eventually saw the sun coming up, the fisherman in him knew it, he excused himself, headed upstairs, there he took out his one of ther set of clothes and washed up. He stood for a moment looking at Gull's Wing and Goblin Hook. He thought about howthey had taken him so far, and would take him, finally he had enough money to leave. Then came the summons to the Mayor's office.......



Jovik took the badge with some reluctance, this was a chain to him, gilded or not it tied him to Sandpoint. Here he thought he would have his freedom finally, enough money to move away and now this. He almost gave it back, his hand was moving that way until he thought of his mother, and his hand slowly returned.

Jovik left the mayor's office in much less high spirits than he had come in on. The other may have seen it as a great honor, but Jovik saw bars.

 

[Rhun]

ANOTHER PLACEHOLDER FOR DANTH!

Hewligan, I've had a busy week, but I will have my posts up by the end of the weekend.

 

[hewligan]

Jovik's Escape

Jovik knew all about the original Wolves of Sandpoint. They were just legend now. Ancient stories about the small group of rangers, druids, and warriors who first wrestled this area from the hands of the goblins, bugbears, and ogres. That was many generations ago, and now they were just a name bandied around as a simple representation of honour, of bravery, and perhaps of camaraderie. Jovik had his own thoughts about these things. They had probably been men like him, driven by wanderlust and boredom to escape the confines of their hopeless lives. No doubt they had fallen into their 'heroism' by accident, much like him, and no doubt the passing of time had made the stories grow far beyond the reality of their actual deeds. Regardless, he was now tied into their legend. A Wolf.

That first week was nearly the death of him. Actually, he didn't quite survive the week in Sandpoint. Five days it was. Five days of patrols, cards, drink, and ... soft companionship. And it drove him crazy.

Then Shalelu Andosana returned. (OOC: link to a picture of her). The elven ranger who you last met a couple of weeks ago and who furnished such good information on the goblin tribes in the area.

It is arranged for Jovik, Jokad, Kael, and Shalelu to have a private dinner. She sits quietly at the table in the private room of the White Deer, listening to your tale, occasionally tearing off small splinters of the fresh bread that has been provided, and sipping on her red wine. When you tell her of the death of the bugbear Brathazmus, she raises a single eyebrow, and leans forward.

Shalelu starts to talk, her voice is beautiful, almost musical, and at times you have to strain to pick up her quietly spoken words.

"He was a terrible creature. An adversary of mine for many years. I fought him three times, but neither of us could gain the upper hand. Once he nearly killed me, but I managed to leap into the river. He hated water. Hated it! Once, I caught up with him after he had slaughtered the entire family at a distant farm. He had done his work over a few days. Days! He was a beast. I thought I had him that time. I had filled him with arrows, but still he slipped from my grasp, fleeing into the thistle briars near Thistletop. I thank you for killing him!"

At this last bit, you slide across the necklace of ears as proof of the killing. Shalelu offers a weak, sad smile.

"Only a portion of his victims! You should burn this, or take it to the church for consecration."

Now that she has broken her silence, she seems a lot more animated, and the telling of the rest of your tale is more enjoyable for her questions, and remarks. The meal ends, but the drinks continue to flow. Jokad appears sedate, Kael tired, and more than a little preoccupied, and Jovik, poor Jovik, is latching on to each and every offer of excitement, trying to find something to spice up his 'imprisonment' here at Sandpoint.

As the evening unfolds, Shalelu starts talking about her work at Fort Rannick. She spends much of her time there, using it as her base of operation, helping out the hunter and ranger order, the Black Arrows, that use it to tame the dangerous area it is located at.

It is having some problems of late, just more activity in the Hook Mountain area. Problems that the Black Arrows are handling well, but she wants to do some scouting to see if she can find the root of it.

Jovik's ears perk up at this. A fort, far away, needing help. Best of all, it is NOT Sandpoint. He starts to enquire if they could use any additional aid. A scout perhaps, someone fleet of foot and quick of mind. Shalelu laughs, but then seeing that he is serious, nods enthusiastically.


"Of course. But it is a long trip. I was going to leave tomorrow, taking the river barges, with some connecting walking. That will take about 6 days. I know a few shortcuts! By horse it takes 9 or so. My foot 19. You will need a few gold to pay the boatmen. Trust me, you don't want to walk!"

Jovik smiles. An escape. A way out, and real adventure!

OOC: Follow up post for Jovik to complete this will follow tomorrow, as well as Jokad's. If Jokad wants to go with Jovik, let me know and I will add him to this tale - otherwise I will craft a separate one. Kael will be separate.

I will also do the treasure estimates tomorrow, although I may miss a few things.

 

[Fenris]

Jovik nods "I'll have the gold for the bargeman, no problem there. I have a few errands to run. I'll meet you outside the White deer in the morning." says Jovik as he heads out. His head was spinning with the possibilities. Hook Mountains. Jovik would need a few cold weather supplies. A heavier cloak, a blanket. Gloves. He headed out to quickly gather them up.

He then headed to his parents house. He had avoided it all week. Finding reasons not to patrol that area. He knew he had to go tonight. He approached the door and knocked. He knew it was unlocked and that he was welcome, still, he knocked. As the door opened the warm smell of home spilled out with the light from the hearth, mom's cooking.

And Jovik was swept up into the arms of his mother in a smothering hug. Jovik, for once, did not try to avoid it or end it. Finally her crying drew the rest of the family.

His brothers immediately wanted to see his Wolf badge. Jovik knew they had both been capitalizing on his name and fame to garner a few free ales themselves. A hundred questions came at him. His brothers, both older and stronger, now stood hanging on his word, looked up to him. Now they were just fishermen. Jovik was a hero. A clearing of the throat behind them, cleared out his brothers and mother, leaving Jovik alone with his father. He gestured at the table. He and Jovik both sat down. Jovik looked around the kitchen. There was a new pot on the fire jack and it looked like lamb stew rather than fish had been for dinner. Mom had been spending at least a little of the money Jovik had been leaving.

Finally his father spoke. "So, you're a Wolf now eh? I guess the gods had a different path planned for you which is why you fought being a fisherman so hard."

Jovik nodded.

"Probably just as well, you were a lousy fisherman." continued his father with a rare smile that caught Jovik off guard. That broke the ice and he and Jovik talked for a long while that night. The rift between them fading.

Finally Jovik stood and stirred the fading embers. He called his mother into the kitchen.
"Mom, dad, I am leaving in the morning. I am leaving Sandpoint. I am headed to Fort Rannick up north, and I, I don't know if I'll be back." His mother cried and begged him not to go. His father nodded. He had come to accept his son's decisions.

"I am proud of you son, proud of what you have done, and the man you have become. You will always be welcome here." and with that he turned and headed back into the house. His mother tried to stuff some stew down him, to mold him longer, but Jovik gave one final hug and then headed back out into the night. His last night in Sandpoint.

 

[hewligan]

Treasure Update

All, this is an OOC post with my attempt to collate the treasure.

I took Friadoc's earlier post (pre-Thistletop), and then updated it. I have made assumptions about selling things, and identifying things. This took a long time to put together, so the end of Jovik's story, as well as the others, have had to be punted by a day. I need you all to update your character sheets with your treasure, and feel free to use your wealth to buy anything not exotic. Also some items below may be sold (Jokad has a few magical weapons that seem to do the same job). half list price from PHB to sell! Sandpoint cannot buy anything worth more than 800gp, so it tops out there.

All items that say sold have already been added to the following gold totals:

Group: 106gp (already split and added to below, so ignore this)
Kael: 30gp +40gp +26gp +5sp
Jokad: 30gp +40gp +26gp +5sp
Jovik: 30gp +40gp +26gp +5sp (Jovik, this is before subtracting what you left your family, so please do that)
Danth: 30gp +26gp +5sp (Again, before any donation to the church)


---

Pack Horse for Kael (gift from Aldern)

Masterwork Thieves' Tools (Jovik)

Some rings you sold for 14gp

+1 Ring of protection - THIS MAY STILL NEED TO BE ALLOCATED?

Dagger (Jovik snagged, worth 10gp)

Cloak of the Guard (Midblue, trimmed in white)

Scroll - Burning Hands (CL 3rd) - I forgot to mention it but was levitating in the room with the wine, etc.

LongSword - +1 (taken by Jokad)

Silver Dagger - non-magical, but useful against creatures resistant to normal weapons (hint)

Masterwork Handaxe - unclaimed

Bottle of Wine - just nice wine, to be honest. Something to enjoy together later.

Wand of Shocking Grasp (Kael)

+1 Dagger of Returning (Jovik)

Miniature Tiara - sold for 33gp

3 ancient gold coins sold for 15gp
Unholy symbol of Lamashtu - sold for 10gp

---

Wand of produce flame (34 charges) - cost 100gp to identify. UNCLAIMED

2 potions of tree shape
2 potions of speak with animals
potion of barkskin +2 (it cost 6gp to identify various of the above potions) ALL UNCLAIMED?

Shadowmist, warhorse, 30hp, (2gp to get cured and stabled) UNCLAIMED

wand of silent image (5 charges, cost 100gp to identify) UNCLAIMED?

Danth took a very fine holy symbol of Sarenrae and his scimitar from Ripnugget's treasure.

Jade necklace sold for 30gp

Masterwork composite longbow, taken by Jokad.

Masterwork bastard sword (CAN BE SOLD FOR 167GP IF DESIRED)

Pathfinder journal (worth 3gp)

Obsidian paperweight (sold for 1gp)

3 fine bottles of wine (drunk!)

Scroll of sleep
Scroll of comprehend languages
Scroll of mirror image
Scroll of see invisibility
Scroll of whispering wind

A wand (a thick carved wooden wand with a red stone at the top) of magic missiles, 38 charges, CL 1st. 100gp spent to identify. UNCLAIMED

A dagger (jovik?)

Lyrie's blood soaked but very high quality cloak of dark grey with runes stitched into it in black, turns out to be a cloak of resistance +1 (identify cost 100gp) (UNCLAIMED?)

25gp for the pearl earing you found on her. SOLD

+1 bastard sword from Nualia, given to Jokad

Seven pointed star medallion and lock for the demon room, with Jovik. cost 100gp to identify. Worth several thousand GP. Grants +1 resistance bonus to all saving throws. Once per day it may be commanded to bestow the bearer with false life. Also provides gentle repose effect when placed on a corpse. Currently with Jovik, although there was some talk about destroying it.

Heavy gold holy symbol of Laamashtu, melted down for gold and sold for 50gp