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Muddled Pasts - Pathfinder 3.5
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<blockquote data-quote="jydog1" data-source="post: 5435743" data-attributes="member: 48156"><p><strong>Session #22 - January 18, 2011 - Mob Mentality</strong></p><p></p><p>notes: crazy goings-on in Magnidaar as we managed to get ourselves in more and more trouble, as PCs are wont to do. We had a guest player (Tofa's player's sister) who fit in seamlessly and was a fun addition. The session ended on what could only be called a cliffhanger as the heroes of Sandport are going to have to do some quick thinking to avoid a grisly fate . . . dinner was a ravoli lasagna tossed together by laura and myself and a cosmic crapload of Italian pastries. Leave the d12, take the cannoli!</p><p></p><p>from the journal of Grezzalik M'Rethen:</p><p></p><p>We managed to catch a few hours of sleep back at the Smiling Dog before regrouping and stumbling over to the Academica Arcanica. Firendrin was still babbling about the gargoyles and once we were inside damn near lost his mind when he spotted one of the guardian golems. I believe he had a conversation with it - details are mercifully lost to the wind. He had some business with Eland Drosk, and Tofa some with Haradrum Mensk (about her sword Hidarga, which according to her is a weapon of legend. When I'd first examined the sword it seemed like a host of other abilities were present but not yet accessible by her - perhaps Mensk could provide her with some answers).</p><p></p><p>I went to see my former adviser Jandro Pelesh. his office had moved, and I playfully bowed and scraped as I entered. "Oh great and newly promoted Dean of Ancient Magic, will you spare but a moment for a lowly worm of a former student . . ."</p><p></p><p>He greeted me with his usual good nature! "Grezzalik! Not dead yet! And with even more tattoos! Splendid, splendid, do come in!" His spacious office was full of interesting things, including a cute tiefling who looked up from some scribing.</p><p></p><p>"Yes, yes, Cyrith, this is Grezzalik, now out and about making his mark in the world." I blushed as she rose and nodded. "Cyrith Jegere, very nice to meet you. I saw what you did in the dual against Zerlan Scarnetti."</p><p></p><p>Ugh. "Ah, that's like, faded and nobody talks about that anymore, right?"</p><p></p><p>She laughed. "Surprisingly enough, someone's head being blown to pieces is a tenacious subject."</p><p></p><p>I shook my head and, at Jandro's urging, brought him up to date with what's been happening, with emphasis on the Thassilonian parts. He was very interested in the Catacombs of Wrath and their connection to Runelord Alarzist, having been only lightly briefed by Broderick Quint. After a while the others joined us and I introduced them. </p><p></p><p>Then a bunch of colored lights went off in Jandro's face, but instead of being shocked or dazed he merely glanced at the for a second before peering over at Firendrin's familiar. He nodded , made a few finger wiggles and POOF - the familiar was gone. Firendrin almost leaped out of his skin.</p><p></p><p>"What did you do?"</p><p></p><p>Unperturbed Jandro replied, "You were infested with Chaos Worms, boy. Nasty things. It cast a spell at me."</p><p></p><p>"Well, she's very mischievous!"</p><p></p><p>"Wait!" I cocked an eye at the dwarf. "Has that thing been causing all the problems with the guard?"</p><p></p><p>Firendrin tried to look angry. "She was just having fun!" he turned to Jandro. "What did you do?"</p><p></p><p>He shrugged. "I dismissed it, back to where it belonged."</p><p></p><p>"But that's my familiar!"</p><p></p><p>"Really?" Jandro raised an eyebrow. "Here the familiars are usually much better behaved. I suppose I can bring it back if you wish."</p><p></p><p>"Yes! Yes! bring her back!"</p><p></p><p>"Very well." As he gestured Jandro shot a wink for Cyrith and myself, and the thing popped back on Firendrin's shoulder.</p><p></p><p>"Dean, can I ask a favor? I, uhm, spent some time with one of the Sisters of Fate, and I'm just curious if she left any sort of lingering effect on me."</p><p></p><p>THAT got me a curious look (and a snicker from Trixie) but Jandro wove a spell or two before saying, "Well, I say. It seems you have a wyrd, Grezzalik. There's something plucking at the strings of fate that trail from you - not sure in what way, but it definitely has a hand in your future."</p><p></p><p>"Wonderful," I muttered. "Medea wants to stick around, I see."</p><p></p><p>Trixie struggled to keep from cracking up. "Geez, Grezz, you can't even catch a social disease the right way."</p><p></p><p>----</p><p></p><p>From there we went to check out the Foxglove Estate. Jandro has suggested that Cyrith could use some field work and would be a boon for us as well, and nobody objected. We let ourselves in - having keys is a nice advantage - and after a bit ran into a blustering butler who insisted Foxglove and his wife were having lunch. He wanted to fetch him but we followed, led by Londis. Indeed Alderin was dining with what looked like Iesha and a maid. He jumped up and yelled in outrage, but that didn't stop Trixie from storming across the room and slapping him as hard as she could.</p><p></p><p>His face slid sideways and stayed that way. "Oh well, I guess there's no need for that anymore." As we watched all of them transformed into misshapen humanoids, the Alderin creating spikes from his fingers and mauling Trixie. I shouted and loosed a scorching ray at him but missed high and wide (OOC: the first of my many, many sub-5 rolls for the evening). Cyrith loosed a crossbow bolt as she screamed out what they were - faceless stalkers, shapeshifters. Things were dicey for a bit and I got clobbered by the butler-thing from behind before the battle tipped our way, greatly aided by the arms of Londis and Tofa and a summoned ant of Trixie's. We managed to keep the Alderin thing alive and with it secured Trixie gave it an icy smile. She'd gotten around the language barrier it was attempting to hide behind with a spell and it looked like we might get some good info out of it.</p><p></p><p>Then Firedrin walked over and stabbed it in the groin, also twisting the blade. killing it.</p><p></p><p>I stared at him. "What the hell are you doing? Why would you do that?"</p><p></p><p>He looked confused. "He needed to be dead."</p><p></p><p>"No, he needed to be interrogated! Heal him! Why would you do that?" I was stunned. Seriously, why would he do that?</p><p></p><p>Some muttering later the thing gasped back to life - perhaps overhealed as it shifted form and slipped the manacles. Tofa splashed it against a wall and we were done with shapeshifters. I left the room in disgust. Trixie told me later she asked Firendrin to cast Speak with Dead and he'd refused, saying it wouldn't do any good. </p><p></p><p>A search of the house turned up a mostly scavenged place except for a hidden cache we had the right key for. It gave us 200 platinum, the deeds to the undersea chateau known as Foxglove Manor and the place we were in now, and some legal papers drafted 60 years ago between Voros and the Brothers of the Seven, whoever they were. In another 20 years the estate would go over to them. interesting.</p><p></p><p>In addition we found a ledger listing transactions, including 200 gold a week for 'Iesha's trip to Absolom' that was paid each Oathday at midnight in a sawmill on an island just south of the main part of the city - the Sevens Sawmill to someone referred to as 'B7.' A lead!</p><p></p><p>In addition we remembered (OOC: with some GM prodding, but I did have it in my notes) that the cages in Foxglove Manor had a distinctive maker's mark - Rimer Founderson. trixie's cameo had one too, that of Minsk Madlevia. Worth checking out, so after we spent the night in OUR new townhouse we were off to the Bazaar of Sails.</p><p></p><p>Picture the largest market you've ever seen. Now make it ten times as big. That's about a tenth of the Bazaar. We made our way in and found the blacksmith fairly quickly. With Trixie running point we were able to get the name of the guy who'd commissioned them - Jellick Morves, who happened to own the . . . surprise, surprise . . . the Sevens Sawmill. There had been dead rats in those cages - rats would be a pretty damn effective way of spreading the damn phage. I made a mental note to got to the Arvensoar and ask if it had started showing up in the slums yet. </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, outside the others were being entertained by a traveling troupe of musicians singing about - us. As we came outside an absolutely gorgeous woman who had been talking to Tofa addressed Trixie, who either didn't hear her or was ignoring her. She went on as the singer danced away from Firendrin's clumsy attempts to steal his lute and continued his song, which suddenly began to venture into things we hadn't done yet, and probably wouldn't do. Dark, gloomy, evil things. The gathered crowd started to mutter angrily, and as the slice of hotness next to us laughed they turned toward us with ugly intent in their eyes. </p><p></p><p>This didn't look good for the good guys . . .</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="jydog1, post: 5435743, member: 48156"] [b]Session #22 - January 18, 2011 - Mob Mentality[/b] notes: crazy goings-on in Magnidaar as we managed to get ourselves in more and more trouble, as PCs are wont to do. We had a guest player (Tofa's player's sister) who fit in seamlessly and was a fun addition. The session ended on what could only be called a cliffhanger as the heroes of Sandport are going to have to do some quick thinking to avoid a grisly fate . . . dinner was a ravoli lasagna tossed together by laura and myself and a cosmic crapload of Italian pastries. Leave the d12, take the cannoli! from the journal of Grezzalik M'Rethen: We managed to catch a few hours of sleep back at the Smiling Dog before regrouping and stumbling over to the Academica Arcanica. Firendrin was still babbling about the gargoyles and once we were inside damn near lost his mind when he spotted one of the guardian golems. I believe he had a conversation with it - details are mercifully lost to the wind. He had some business with Eland Drosk, and Tofa some with Haradrum Mensk (about her sword Hidarga, which according to her is a weapon of legend. When I'd first examined the sword it seemed like a host of other abilities were present but not yet accessible by her - perhaps Mensk could provide her with some answers). I went to see my former adviser Jandro Pelesh. his office had moved, and I playfully bowed and scraped as I entered. "Oh great and newly promoted Dean of Ancient Magic, will you spare but a moment for a lowly worm of a former student . . ." He greeted me with his usual good nature! "Grezzalik! Not dead yet! And with even more tattoos! Splendid, splendid, do come in!" His spacious office was full of interesting things, including a cute tiefling who looked up from some scribing. "Yes, yes, Cyrith, this is Grezzalik, now out and about making his mark in the world." I blushed as she rose and nodded. "Cyrith Jegere, very nice to meet you. I saw what you did in the dual against Zerlan Scarnetti." Ugh. "Ah, that's like, faded and nobody talks about that anymore, right?" She laughed. "Surprisingly enough, someone's head being blown to pieces is a tenacious subject." I shook my head and, at Jandro's urging, brought him up to date with what's been happening, with emphasis on the Thassilonian parts. He was very interested in the Catacombs of Wrath and their connection to Runelord Alarzist, having been only lightly briefed by Broderick Quint. After a while the others joined us and I introduced them. Then a bunch of colored lights went off in Jandro's face, but instead of being shocked or dazed he merely glanced at the for a second before peering over at Firendrin's familiar. He nodded , made a few finger wiggles and POOF - the familiar was gone. Firendrin almost leaped out of his skin. "What did you do?" Unperturbed Jandro replied, "You were infested with Chaos Worms, boy. Nasty things. It cast a spell at me." "Well, she's very mischievous!" "Wait!" I cocked an eye at the dwarf. "Has that thing been causing all the problems with the guard?" Firendrin tried to look angry. "She was just having fun!" he turned to Jandro. "What did you do?" He shrugged. "I dismissed it, back to where it belonged." "But that's my familiar!" "Really?" Jandro raised an eyebrow. "Here the familiars are usually much better behaved. I suppose I can bring it back if you wish." "Yes! Yes! bring her back!" "Very well." As he gestured Jandro shot a wink for Cyrith and myself, and the thing popped back on Firendrin's shoulder. "Dean, can I ask a favor? I, uhm, spent some time with one of the Sisters of Fate, and I'm just curious if she left any sort of lingering effect on me." THAT got me a curious look (and a snicker from Trixie) but Jandro wove a spell or two before saying, "Well, I say. It seems you have a wyrd, Grezzalik. There's something plucking at the strings of fate that trail from you - not sure in what way, but it definitely has a hand in your future." "Wonderful," I muttered. "Medea wants to stick around, I see." Trixie struggled to keep from cracking up. "Geez, Grezz, you can't even catch a social disease the right way." ---- From there we went to check out the Foxglove Estate. Jandro has suggested that Cyrith could use some field work and would be a boon for us as well, and nobody objected. We let ourselves in - having keys is a nice advantage - and after a bit ran into a blustering butler who insisted Foxglove and his wife were having lunch. He wanted to fetch him but we followed, led by Londis. Indeed Alderin was dining with what looked like Iesha and a maid. He jumped up and yelled in outrage, but that didn't stop Trixie from storming across the room and slapping him as hard as she could. His face slid sideways and stayed that way. "Oh well, I guess there's no need for that anymore." As we watched all of them transformed into misshapen humanoids, the Alderin creating spikes from his fingers and mauling Trixie. I shouted and loosed a scorching ray at him but missed high and wide (OOC: the first of my many, many sub-5 rolls for the evening). Cyrith loosed a crossbow bolt as she screamed out what they were - faceless stalkers, shapeshifters. Things were dicey for a bit and I got clobbered by the butler-thing from behind before the battle tipped our way, greatly aided by the arms of Londis and Tofa and a summoned ant of Trixie's. We managed to keep the Alderin thing alive and with it secured Trixie gave it an icy smile. She'd gotten around the language barrier it was attempting to hide behind with a spell and it looked like we might get some good info out of it. Then Firedrin walked over and stabbed it in the groin, also twisting the blade. killing it. I stared at him. "What the hell are you doing? Why would you do that?" He looked confused. "He needed to be dead." "No, he needed to be interrogated! Heal him! Why would you do that?" I was stunned. Seriously, why would he do that? Some muttering later the thing gasped back to life - perhaps overhealed as it shifted form and slipped the manacles. Tofa splashed it against a wall and we were done with shapeshifters. I left the room in disgust. Trixie told me later she asked Firendrin to cast Speak with Dead and he'd refused, saying it wouldn't do any good. A search of the house turned up a mostly scavenged place except for a hidden cache we had the right key for. It gave us 200 platinum, the deeds to the undersea chateau known as Foxglove Manor and the place we were in now, and some legal papers drafted 60 years ago between Voros and the Brothers of the Seven, whoever they were. In another 20 years the estate would go over to them. interesting. In addition we found a ledger listing transactions, including 200 gold a week for 'Iesha's trip to Absolom' that was paid each Oathday at midnight in a sawmill on an island just south of the main part of the city - the Sevens Sawmill to someone referred to as 'B7.' A lead! In addition we remembered (OOC: with some GM prodding, but I did have it in my notes) that the cages in Foxglove Manor had a distinctive maker's mark - Rimer Founderson. trixie's cameo had one too, that of Minsk Madlevia. Worth checking out, so after we spent the night in OUR new townhouse we were off to the Bazaar of Sails. Picture the largest market you've ever seen. Now make it ten times as big. That's about a tenth of the Bazaar. We made our way in and found the blacksmith fairly quickly. With Trixie running point we were able to get the name of the guy who'd commissioned them - Jellick Morves, who happened to own the . . . surprise, surprise . . . the Sevens Sawmill. There had been dead rats in those cages - rats would be a pretty damn effective way of spreading the damn phage. I made a mental note to got to the Arvensoar and ask if it had started showing up in the slums yet. Meanwhile, outside the others were being entertained by a traveling troupe of musicians singing about - us. As we came outside an absolutely gorgeous woman who had been talking to Tofa addressed Trixie, who either didn't hear her or was ignoring her. She went on as the singer danced away from Firendrin's clumsy attempts to steal his lute and continued his song, which suddenly began to venture into things we hadn't done yet, and probably wouldn't do. Dark, gloomy, evil things. The gathered crowd started to mutter angrily, and as the slice of hotness next to us laughed they turned toward us with ugly intent in their eyes. This didn't look good for the good guys . . . [/QUOTE]
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