Hewligan's Rise of the Runelords: The Skinsaw Murders

[frostrune]

Item list update:

+1 Spear of despair (Impaler of Thorns)
+2 Breastplate with wolf motif (Wolves of Sandpoint... get it?) 4350 gp
Warhorse & trimmmings (military saddle, bridle, saddlebags, etc) 470 gp ish

He will also buy a beautiful dress <with some help> for Amryl 50 -100 gp. At some point during the month he will ride back to Sandpoint for a visit

For Hew and Danth[sblock]

At some point during their month of enjoyment while they are waiting for their stuff to be comissioned...

Jokad approaches Danth one day while he goes about his duties at the church/orphanage. His body language is odd, far more sheepish and meek than his typical outgoing and overbearing style. It is evident something is on his mind beyond his usual cares of food, wine, and bloodshed.

"Danth, I have something for you." His simple introduction is curious.

"In our time together your power has saved me numerous times. You are strong with your God and it is obvious she is kind and just. I wish to give this <producing a bulging bag of coins> to your church. I am confident you can do much more good with it than me. Please take this with my thanks."

With that he hands you the sack (500 gp) and with a sheepish smile and curt nod he stalks hurriedly off.

Hew - I will get a small, strong chest commisioned and put 1000 gp inside. My intention is to bury this on our trek back to sandpoint on the farm of those people we helped (can't remember the name). The farmer will know I am burrying something and where. Jokad feels confident he can trust him having saved his family's lives.

Should leave me with 71 - 121 gp of pocket change (depending on the cost of the dress)

[/sblock]

 

[hewligan]

Item list update:
...
He will also buy a beautiful dress <with some help> for Amryl 50 -100 gp. At some point during the month he will ride back to Sandpoint for a visit
...
[/sblock]

On the dress: for 50gp you could furnish the girl with a lot of very fine stuff. A 50gp dress would be incredibly fine - probably too fine for her to ever want to wear (she does live in Sandpoint after all). Some good boots wouldn't go amiss - hard to get in Sandpoint!

As for the other stuff you posted - all good!

 

[Rhun]

OOC: So for Danth:

- Periapt of Wisdom (+2)
- Heavy darkwood shield +2
- Wand of Lesser Vigor (50 charges), paid for by everyone.

Do you want us to begin updating our character sheets?

 

[Fenris]

Was Jovik going to take the Sihedron Rune Medallion, or what someone else? That gives a +1 to saves, to perhaps a bit pointless to combine with a cloak of resistance.

No, I believe that it was radiated a strong evil and Danth suggested it be destroyed which was the plan to destroy it.


Hewligan
[sblock]
In any case Jovik already has a Sihedron Rune Medallion, from Thistletop. It was the key to the demon prison. He did keep that so 2 don't work well together But does that mean I can't use a cloak of resistance?

Also is there a way to send money reliably back to Sandpoint?
[/sblock]

 

[Friadoc]

I guess you are referring to the fantastic range of Sorceror Blood Lines in Pathfinder? I will take a read today and let you know my thoughts, but in truth, the choice is all yours, and I am comfortable if we have to ret-con the game a little to allow for slight changes to characters.

OOC:

Yes, oh yes, that is the awesomesauce that I refer to.

I'm cool with retconning, too, but I like to go for a smoothness that fits the character, too. I've a feeling that arcane bloodline makes sense, else I'd have to feat in Mal. We'll see, though.

 

[hewligan]

In response to Fenris - yes, these can stack, so please go ahead and add the cloak. Please be sure that your attributes/saves/etc. incorporate all permanent item effects.

 

[hewligan]

Please all see the conversion notes on the OOC thread, detailing how to proceed with conversion to PRPG and also level-up rules.

I will post this weekend (at the latest) with the final game-ending tie-up post, and then shortly after conversion is complete we will proceed with the next adventure in the path.

Please note that I will be HEAVILY altering the next adventure from its published format. I did not like several elements of it, primarily because it felt too disconnected and I feel that it fails to foreshadow the greater thread in the AP. I will be keeping the first couple of parts of the adventure, and then altering drastically, adding a lot more linkage into what came before, and more importantly, what will follow.

The only reason I am telling you this is that it may mean I get the challenge in several areas a little too tough (or easy), but this was always going to be an issue with us moving to a new system (albeit a system closely related to 3.5e). Please be forgiving

In subsequent adventures in the path, we will remain much closer to the published adventure.

 

[hewligan]

The first week in the city of Magnimar passes well. New-found wealth and new-found friends ... a welcome mix.

Several of the noblemen on the list that you retrieved from Xanesha make contact with you through various channels, and you are invited to several very fine meals, one trip to the opera, and receive a very generous donation to Danth's orphanage from another. There is an element, you feel, of these noblemen of enjoying being able to connect with local heroes, although none seem to know why they are on the list or really want to dwell upon it too much. Instead they prefer to show you off and thank you in their own way. It may be superficial, and it may be fleeting, but the food is always excellent, the company gracious, and the women fragrant.

In that same week, there is much fitting of armour, and visits to organise the purchase and sale of various magical items. Some pieces are ordered from Korvosa, some from even further afield (Cheliax), but they will all be here within a few months, and deposits are paid to secure them.

Within the city, word of your deeds spread quickly. Within the Shadow, the poorest district of the city, and the place you dwell, you become proper heroes. Kids seem to follow you everywhere, old ladies come from their doors and hand you scones, or shake your hands in their liver spotted hand, or even plant kisses upon your cheeks. They have long lived in fear of the murders, and also of the repercussions of the murders (midnight sweeps by the city guard, random arrests, threats, and so on). For a part of the city that depends upon the more illicit paths to earning a coin, the reduced guard presence is welcome, and life appears to be quickly returning to normal.

'The Wolves of Sandpoint' quickly capture the city's imagination. Jokad, with his striking Shoanti looks, is perhaps the most visible and celebrated of the heroes, but you all feel the friendliness of the city towards you. People ask questions. It is impossible to pay for a drink anywhere. Everyone wants to ask about Ironbriar (for word of his involvement quickly leaked, as did work of the pumpkin giant, and the snake lady in the tower). Soon the story is embellished, and the things you faced are demons and horrors of the nine hells, but behind it all is a relief that the city is finally no longer gripped by a crippling fear as night after night the murderers strike.

There are some recriminations. You hear, once of twice, of rumours of Ironbriar being found, or of one of the remaining cultists being tracked down and beated (or killed). Most of this is just ill-founded rumour, but you don't doubt that at least one or two people have used this as an opportunity to frame and then remove their rivals. Such is life in a city!

 

[hewligan]

Jovik

Jovik wakes late. It is ... what ... 10 days since they defeated Xanesha? He rubs his eyes. They are a bit sore. No, not his eyes, his head. Too much armagnac. He loves the stuff - 32 year old Taladorian Blue. Amazing, and very, very expensive. But he wasn't paying, and the nobleman who was dining them last night seemed very pleased to share a bottle with the heroes. God, he had drunk too much, again.

Jovik rolled over. Another hour in bed wouldn't hurt. But there was something on his bedside table - a letter. Someone must have left it for him. He pulled himself up, reached for it, slipped it open with his knife (ALWAYS sleep with a knife!), and creased his eyes as he tried to read the letters in the dull light.

Dearest Jovik,

I hope this letter finds you well. I travelled to Sandpoint, hoping to find you there, but I heard of your exploits, and the dangers you have marched south to defeat. I would join you, but I have some errands to run for the elves, north of here, and then will return to Sandpoint.

I trust you are well. I miss you terribly. Things have not gone well since you left Fort Rannick.

I have resigned as a Black Arrow, leaving the fort and my old life. I am not sure what to do now, but I cannot be there anymore. I wish you were here now. I want to talk to you about this, but ...

Please, when your work is done in Magnimar, and where ever your travels take you after that, please find your way back to me at Sandpoint. I will check in every couple of weeks over the spring and summer. If I do not see you before the end of the summer I will assume that you are either dead, or do not wish to see me.

My love, take every care. I hope to see you soon.

Shalelu.

Jovik suddenly feels sober. Shalelu was incredibly loyal to the Black Arrows, the band of rangers that guard Fort Rannick. It was her life, or at least had been her life until he had turned up and confused things. But still, for her to resign her position with the Black Arrows meant something very bad must have happened.

There was no question about it. Jovik was going home to Sandpoint. Now!

-----

It was a dull trip. He had made his excuses and left, but Jokad had been really adamant that he would go too, but Jovik had finally convinced his friend to stay in Magnimar. Heck, the big dolt needed to get his armour fitted, and refitted, and (if he kept on eating all that rich food), probably refitted once again. Anyway, he needed a break and most definitely did not want to get messed up in Jovik's personal problems. Instead, Jokad promised that he would follow his friend north in a week or two, when his final fitting had taken place and the armourer no longer needed Jokad until the final item was ready.

-----

When he arrived back in town, paying a few gold coins to the merchant that had let him hitch a ride on his carts, and let him use his fine halfling tobacco, Jovik was met with a heroes welcome all over again. The people of Sandpoint already considered him a hero for his part in saving the town from the goblins, and the skin-eating monsters from below, but now he had fought off the ghouls, and delivered the town from a hideous mass murderer.

He was in no mood for the celebratory atmosphere, but he soon found out Shalelu was not in town, and this he allowed himself to be swept along with some of the atmosphere.

His family were ecstatic to see him. He feasted with them that night, buying suckling pig from a local farmer, some honey, figs, and fine (for Sandpoint) wine, and let his mother cook them up a storm. He really enjoyed that. The family meal, the gentle ribbing from his brothers, the contented silence from his father which he KNEW meant that he was proud of his son, and the constant fussing of his mother.

He slept better that night than he had done in weeks.

-----

It was four days later when Shalelu turned up. She looked exhausted, just back from an eight day excursion to the nearest elven tribe where she had grown up, passing on news and finding out what was stirring to the north and east.

When she saw Jovik she leapt at him, threw her arms around him, and sobbed.

It took a while for the full story to come out, but eventually Jovik managed to piece it all together. Her father, a human who had lived briefly with her mother among the elves, had left her as an infant, after her mother had died. She had never heard from him since then, but she knew of him. She had contacts among the elves, the traders, the trappers, the gnomes, the rangers and druids of the lands. She knew he served Magnimar's army, but had always been positioned far to the south. But then he had been assigned control of Fort Rannick, and that was it. She had resigned as soon as she heard the news. Her life - the job she had done for so many years, had been thrown away because she could not bear to serve under the man who had abandoned her.

Jovik didn't quite understand how to respond, but she didn't seem to care. She just held him and sobbed.

Later, when they were both a bit drunk, she admitted to him that she just didn't know what to do with her life now.

-----

And then two days later she had left. A message had arrived for her from the elves, and she had told him that there were stirring to the east. That was it. Stirrings to the east, and she was off, with a long kiss goodbye.

Jovik stayed another few days, until his friend Jokad arrived.

 

[hewligan]

Jokad (and then Jovik and Jokad)

Now Jokad, he just finds it all a bit weird. You see, he isn't a "hero", he is a Shoanti. All Shoanti are brave. They are born brave. But they aren't city people, and they aren't used to THIS many people, and they certainly are not used to having dinners with noblemen, and having noble women stroking his arm after too much wine and telling him how big and strong and brave and heroic he is.

He doesn't particularly like these ladies. They have a whole lot less class than Amryl, despite her being an inn-owner's daughter in a frontier town. His thoughts kept turning to her more and move over the days. And the more people wanted to talk to the great warrior, and the more they pressed him to regale them with his tales, the more he wanted to escape back to Sandpoint.

But he was trapped here for a time. He needed to get his armour made, and it was coming along nicely. The armourer was a fantastic craftsman. An ancient man with four strong grandsons who worked the forge, and his two middle-aged sons running the front of shop, but it was the old man who did all the measurements, who painstakingly drew out the amazing wolf-head shoulder plates and breastplate. He was a genius, and while a little sullen and prone to snappiness, he was, in Jokad's eyes, a true artist. He was also going to be very rich, after Jokad's order, and he liked to tell the young Shoanti, at least once a day, that when he got the final payment he was going to buy himself some golden earplugs so that he could escape the nagging of his wife in style.

WHen Jovik left, Jokad had been desperate to go with him, but he had had to stay behind. His fittings where still proceeding, and more importantly, his war-horse, ordered from a famous trainer near Korvosa, was due to arrive any day now, and it would take several days of training before Jokad would be able to take full delivery of the horse.

But, when that was all done (and the beast was magnificent, a truely beautiful grey beast with gentle eyes and a quick mind, called "Mist"), Jokad immediately set north for Sandpoint, his saddlebags laden with his treasure, and gifts for Amryl (fine clothes and boots that he had really struggled to choose, but in the end had found a genuinely nice nobleman's daughter who, one night at a party, had got chatting to him and had offered to help. She was the first geniune person he had met in weeks, and the items she selected were stunning, if a little expensive!!!) and her family (some sweet preserves and spices).

The ride north was short. Mist was strong and willing, and could cover 30, even 40 miles in a day. It did not take long to reach Sandpoint, and although he knew he would have to return to Magnimar soon, Jokad felt like he had come home.

-----

Amryl - just as beautiful as when he had last seen her, and this time there was no shyness, no hiding from her father, just a scream of delight and a mad dash forward to throw her arms around Jokad. Only then did she blush and pull back a little. The packed afternoon crowd in the inn were staring at her, and at Jokad. Her father walked in from the store room, carrying a side of dried ham to slice, saw Jokad, saw his daughter, and smiled warmly.

A fine lunch followed, with Amryl darting back and forth between her duties to bring him the finest cuts of meat, refill his ale, and catch a few quick words.

-----

He had caught up with Jovik shortly afterwards, feeling full and refreshed after the long ride. Jovik looked distracted and bored.

Sandpoint had grown too small for Jovik, and his insane wealth didn't allow him any outlet in this town. Sure, it had been lovely to see his family, but Shalelu's distress and departure had left him morose. In the days since his mind had grown bored.

He convinced Jokad that a night of drinking would go down well, and it did, but the two men's talk soon turned to adventure, and love. Jovik wanted to escape, Jokad wanted to escape into Amryl's arms.

Jokad's desire won out, and Jovik slunk home to another quiet night at him home.

-----

Amryl was delighted with her gifts. Delighted, but a little overwhelmed. She looked at the finery after a hard shift in the inn, her beautiful curls heavy with the smoke and smells of the day. She cried then, looking at these beautiful things, realising how far from her everyday life of hard grind in rough-wearing practical clothes, up to her elbows in dishes, or carrying large tankards that slopped their froth over her apron. These were clothes for a lady. She was a tavern wench.

Jokad tried to comfort her. He hadn't expected tears. Women were confusing.

The next day Jovik could only agree.

The two men passed a few weeks together in Sandpoint, but as the days progressed they both became restless, spending more time out on hunts, or visiting the farmsteads on round-about-walks.

Each night Jokad would steal away to spend time with Amryl, until eventually the pair dropped all pretence and started to stay the night with one another.

One night, as Jokad sits up playing cards with Jovik in his small rented apartment near the marketplace, Garridan turns up. The man's face makes it clear he is not happy. Jovik casts Jokad a glance that at once Jokad reads as 'do you need me?'. Jokad shakes a negative, and Jovik melts into the night.

It is not a comfortable discussion. Garridan orders Jokad to stay away from his daughter until he is ready to come to Garridan's door and ask formally for his daughter's hand in marriage. Until Jokad is ready for that, he should disappear himself. His daughter is messed up, dreaming of things that will not come to pass, and her work is suffering. More than that, people are talking, and one day Garridan wants his daughter to marry, but if she gets carried along by a wandering adventurer who gets her pregnant and then leaves her for adventures further afield, what then. WHAT THEN? What happens when Jokad's head gets separated from his shoulders by some demon?

-----

Amryl did not come that night, or the next. The day after that Jovik and Jokad decided to leave Sandpoint and head south to Magnimar again.

Both men felt heavy of heart on the journey south. Jovik felt as if his world had grown to such a degree that he could never fit back in to Sandpoint life, and didn't want to fit back in. The town just reminded him of how narrow life had been. He worried about Shalelu, and he worried about the fact he worried .... did this mean he was serious about her? Did he want to be serious about her? Was she serious about him? If she was, why was she so ready to disappear east at the first opportunity.....?

Jokad knew Amryl was thinking of him. He knew she would be crying herself to sleep at night. He knew she loved him. The only thing he didn't know was what he felt.