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Muddled Pasts - Pathfinder 3.5
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<blockquote data-quote="jydog1" data-source="post: 5582792" data-attributes="member: 48156"><p><strong>Session #34 - May 30, 2011 - Frenemies!</strong></p><p></p><p>[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Notes: for the sake of player unity I chose to pass on what would have been totally justified PvP retaliation, but a number of things happened in the session to thoroughly piss poor Grezz off. I've played him as almost blindly loyal to his party mates to this point but even a doofus like him is starting to reach a boiling point. He might be a wee bit unpredictable in upcoming sessions.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">We ended up (as usual) with a bucketload of money. I wasn't able to spend until after the session due to RL time issues, but I went an unusual route for me an bought a few scrolls instead of one big fancy items. Forty-seven is still considered just a few, right?</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Dinner was the amazing hot dogs from my local butcher. Walked past the place yesterday and it was empty with 'FOR LEASE' signs in the window. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">From the journal of Grezzalik M'Rethen:</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">They forget. They forget what I have done for them, what I've contributed, and they treat me like some wet-behind-the-ears fledgling wizard fresh from the Academica. One day they will push too far, or embarrass me too much, and yet still, after I've responded with great ferocity, they will no doubt scratch their heads and say, “Why'd he do that?” </span>[/FONT] </p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes, I find members of my so-called friends a bit wearisome.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">We returned to Magnidaar loaded down with cash, items, the mind-fried bird people, and in my case, my mother. Over the ensuing days she slowly began to emerge from her shock and started living in the real world again. It took a while to figure out, but she finally decided that the best place for her, right now, was (TBD) (OOC: not resolved yet between myself and GM – Grezz has offered to buy her a house anywhere she wishes, move her in at the Hidemarches, or perhaps she'd be interested in Windsong Abbey. The GM is mulling it over. In any case, she's ensconced somewhere before we set out again). Aside from taking care of her, the next month was extremely busy for me. We sent Rhoswyn's former prisoners to the Sanitarium, which seemed the best option. It took me a while to write our travails down for the Pathfinder Society, but I got it done. Firendrin offered to do it first, but his first page consisted some, uhm, odd sentences, such as:</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px"> “I've always found yellow to be the tastiest of the colors, but lacking in texture. For that, you need purple.”</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px"> “I was once again lost in internal debate over whether or not it was worth amputating a toe to see what I truly tasted like.”</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px"> “Yog-Soggoth is both frightening and yet arousing as well. Is it any wonder I get excited around octopi as well?”</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">And so on. I felt compelled to take over after that. Once that was done I spent some time in what I'd turned into my lab creating things, and even managed to make some grenades without blowing myself up. Once I glanced up and spotted my mother watching me from the doorway with a proud expression on her face.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">With a load of cash at my fingertips I decided to expand my usefulness and purchased a few dozen scrolls of varying types, making a merchant extremely happy that day. On one ramble through town I spotted Burgose, my sister's fiancee, and hailed him. </span>[/FONT] </p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">He looked up, spotted me, went pale, and started to run in the other direction.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">He was easy to catch – the adventuring life has made me hardier than the average merchant, it seems – and once I got him to stop stammering apologies and begging for his life I was able to coax the story out of him that he and Dessavia had split. It took a little longer for him to admit it was because she'd caught him with other woman, and he looked at me with such terror that I burst out laughing. Maybe having a bit of a reputation wasn't such a bad thing.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">He knew where she was living – not at House renth – and when I knocked on her door I got my second surprise of the day as Nortlan answered. He blushed, shrugged, and gave me a hug. Dess looked happy and he seemed head over heels, and it made for a pleasant afternoon. He was doing well in his family business and their future looked bright. Good.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">He squinted at me and muttered under his breath as I was leaving, eyes widening. “By Erastil's Bow,” he said, “what have you been doing? You reek of power.”</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">My turn to shrug. “Killing dragons, lamia matriarchs, fey queens. Nothing special.” I invited them to visit my mother and headed out.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Near the end of the month we received an invitation from the Lord Mayor. Only a fool would refuse, and only a bigger fool would show up and make an ass of himself. Guess which option Firendrin took? I won't bother listing his antics, although I will note they weren't well received by either the Mayor or our other dinner companions: Lord Justice Bayle Argentine; Paralictor Darien Halst of the Hellknights; and Remiria Callinova of the Varisian Council. These were powerful people, and I spent most of the meal clutching my head in frustration over Firendrin's lunacy or Londis' naked greed. The inquisitor has seemed even more judgmental than usual, and slightly unhinged. </span>[/FONT] </p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">We were offered a job. Fort Rennick, tasked with quelling ogres by a remote town called Turtleback Ferry, had stopped communicating with everyone for about 3 weeks. In addition a letter to the lamia matriarch we'd killed had been intercepted. It was from someone named Lucrecia and was unnerving – it seemed whatever we've been uncovering had a root up there. Six scouts had been sent up. None had reported back. That's where we'd come in. </span>[/FONT] </p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">During negotiations Trixie cut a deal that allowed her to circumvent the local bard's guild, a good idea in case Drannalew still had influence. He'd vanished after being badly wounded and chased out of town. When it came to me I made a lowball cash offer and requested a minor political position, which was well-received. I'm not sure what I want to do in Magindaar yet – make life miserable for House Scarnetti? House Renth? Both? - but it would be nice to have an official position.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Once we settled, a barge took up upriver to the frontier town of Turtleback Ferry. The priest/mayor thought we were tax collectors while I thought he was just going along with a cover. When we poked around town we discovered a gambling and pleasure boat had sunk a few weeks ago, supposedly killing thirteen people including . . . Lucrecia, the head. Something told me she hadn't died.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Outisde we saw a dockworker with an interesting tattoo on his back – a sihedron rune. In an awkwardly handled exchange we finally got to take a look at them, discovering that they were magicked. Take a guess where they got them and who did the work? Right, our absent friend Lucrecia. Interesting.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Back with the mayor/priest Maelin Shreed we revealed who we really were before Londis so infuriated him that we damn near lost him as an ally. Guy is out of control. Later an offhand reference to his sister – I didn't even know he had a sister, it was just a random reference – got me punched in the face. Someone stepped in before I could retaliate, rage surging through me, and that was probably a good thing. Me trying to go toe to toe with Londis would not end well for me. Another episode like that and he's going to find out what happens when I don't fight fair. </span>[/FONT] </p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Anyway, it was confirmed that Fort Rannick and its 75 or so Rangers had gone silent and we let him know the extent of the tattooing – like half the town had them, and all were magic. The next morning we headed out to the fort.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Maybe halfway there we heard a commotion in the woods. Investigating we found a bear in a trap. Firedrin used his sleeping hex on it, and then wanted to leave. As we argued there was singing heard, and a malformed ogre with a trio of dogs appeared. He claimed the 'ranger bear' as his own, and my friends . . . started to leave, despite my protests. (to be fair, Trixie later told me she'd objected as well, but I hadn't heard her as I'd been too enraged at Londis and Firedrin just leaving me alone) I was so distracted that the dogs slipped up and tore the sleeping bear's throat out as the ogre kept babbling about rangers.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">That was it. Alone or not, I couldn't let this pass. I blasted the thing with lightning and as it bellowed with rage Firedrin fired off a fairly advanced spell that changed the creature's outlook toward us. Useful. Find where these rangers are, what's defending them, and then slit this turd's throat.</span>[/FONT]</p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">Problem is, Firedrin is treating it like it's his best friend ever, and his disregard for the fate of the rangers and for the bear that, for all we know, could be a ranger in animal form, is incensing me. I know Trixie is with me, and from the way Tofa is looking at him it's likely she's with us as well. While they were busy I cast <em>Gentle Repose</em> on the bear and covered it as best as I could – perhaps after we rescue the others someone can do something to help it. And rescue them we will, if I have to go in there myself. </span>[/FONT] </p><p> </p><p></p><p> [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]<span style="font-size: 10px">That's not the best option, of course. But I'll be damned if I'm going to leave people to be used like cattle by filthy ogres – including the freakshow that's now friends with our freakshow.</span>[/FONT]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="jydog1, post: 5582792, member: 48156"] [b]Session #34 - May 30, 2011 - Frenemies![/b] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Notes: for the sake of player unity I chose to pass on what would have been totally justified PvP retaliation, but a number of things happened in the session to thoroughly piss poor Grezz off. I've played him as almost blindly loyal to his party mates to this point but even a doofus like him is starting to reach a boiling point. He might be a wee bit unpredictable in upcoming sessions.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]We ended up (as usual) with a bucketload of money. I wasn't able to spend until after the session due to RL time issues, but I went an unusual route for me an bought a few scrolls instead of one big fancy items. Forty-seven is still considered just a few, right?[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Dinner was the amazing hot dogs from my local butcher. Walked past the place yesterday and it was empty with 'FOR LEASE' signs in the window. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!![/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]From the journal of Grezzalik M'Rethen:[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]They forget. They forget what I have done for them, what I've contributed, and they treat me like some wet-behind-the-ears fledgling wizard fresh from the Academica. One day they will push too far, or embarrass me too much, and yet still, after I've responded with great ferocity, they will no doubt scratch their heads and say, “Why'd he do that?” [/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes, I find members of my so-called friends a bit wearisome.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]We returned to Magnidaar loaded down with cash, items, the mind-fried bird people, and in my case, my mother. Over the ensuing days she slowly began to emerge from her shock and started living in the real world again. It took a while to figure out, but she finally decided that the best place for her, right now, was (TBD) (OOC: not resolved yet between myself and GM – Grezz has offered to buy her a house anywhere she wishes, move her in at the Hidemarches, or perhaps she'd be interested in Windsong Abbey. The GM is mulling it over. In any case, she's ensconced somewhere before we set out again). Aside from taking care of her, the next month was extremely busy for me. We sent Rhoswyn's former prisoners to the Sanitarium, which seemed the best option. It took me a while to write our travails down for the Pathfinder Society, but I got it done. Firendrin offered to do it first, but his first page consisted some, uhm, odd sentences, such as:[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2] “I've always found yellow to be the tastiest of the colors, but lacking in texture. For that, you need purple.”[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2] “I was once again lost in internal debate over whether or not it was worth amputating a toe to see what I truly tasted like.”[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2] “Yog-Soggoth is both frightening and yet arousing as well. Is it any wonder I get excited around octopi as well?”[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]And so on. I felt compelled to take over after that. Once that was done I spent some time in what I'd turned into my lab creating things, and even managed to make some grenades without blowing myself up. Once I glanced up and spotted my mother watching me from the doorway with a proud expression on her face.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]With a load of cash at my fingertips I decided to expand my usefulness and purchased a few dozen scrolls of varying types, making a merchant extremely happy that day. On one ramble through town I spotted Burgose, my sister's fiancee, and hailed him. [/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]He looked up, spotted me, went pale, and started to run in the other direction.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]He was easy to catch – the adventuring life has made me hardier than the average merchant, it seems – and once I got him to stop stammering apologies and begging for his life I was able to coax the story out of him that he and Dessavia had split. It took a little longer for him to admit it was because she'd caught him with other woman, and he looked at me with such terror that I burst out laughing. Maybe having a bit of a reputation wasn't such a bad thing.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]He knew where she was living – not at House renth – and when I knocked on her door I got my second surprise of the day as Nortlan answered. He blushed, shrugged, and gave me a hug. Dess looked happy and he seemed head over heels, and it made for a pleasant afternoon. He was doing well in his family business and their future looked bright. Good.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]He squinted at me and muttered under his breath as I was leaving, eyes widening. “By Erastil's Bow,” he said, “what have you been doing? You reek of power.”[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]My turn to shrug. “Killing dragons, lamia matriarchs, fey queens. Nothing special.” I invited them to visit my mother and headed out.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Near the end of the month we received an invitation from the Lord Mayor. Only a fool would refuse, and only a bigger fool would show up and make an ass of himself. Guess which option Firendrin took? I won't bother listing his antics, although I will note they weren't well received by either the Mayor or our other dinner companions: Lord Justice Bayle Argentine; Paralictor Darien Halst of the Hellknights; and Remiria Callinova of the Varisian Council. These were powerful people, and I spent most of the meal clutching my head in frustration over Firendrin's lunacy or Londis' naked greed. The inquisitor has seemed even more judgmental than usual, and slightly unhinged. [/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]We were offered a job. Fort Rennick, tasked with quelling ogres by a remote town called Turtleback Ferry, had stopped communicating with everyone for about 3 weeks. In addition a letter to the lamia matriarch we'd killed had been intercepted. It was from someone named Lucrecia and was unnerving – it seemed whatever we've been uncovering had a root up there. Six scouts had been sent up. None had reported back. That's where we'd come in. [/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]During negotiations Trixie cut a deal that allowed her to circumvent the local bard's guild, a good idea in case Drannalew still had influence. He'd vanished after being badly wounded and chased out of town. When it came to me I made a lowball cash offer and requested a minor political position, which was well-received. I'm not sure what I want to do in Magindaar yet – make life miserable for House Scarnetti? House Renth? Both? - but it would be nice to have an official position.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Once we settled, a barge took up upriver to the frontier town of Turtleback Ferry. The priest/mayor thought we were tax collectors while I thought he was just going along with a cover. When we poked around town we discovered a gambling and pleasure boat had sunk a few weeks ago, supposedly killing thirteen people including . . . Lucrecia, the head. Something told me she hadn't died.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Outisde we saw a dockworker with an interesting tattoo on his back – a sihedron rune. In an awkwardly handled exchange we finally got to take a look at them, discovering that they were magicked. Take a guess where they got them and who did the work? Right, our absent friend Lucrecia. Interesting.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Back with the mayor/priest Maelin Shreed we revealed who we really were before Londis so infuriated him that we damn near lost him as an ally. Guy is out of control. Later an offhand reference to his sister – I didn't even know he had a sister, it was just a random reference – got me punched in the face. Someone stepped in before I could retaliate, rage surging through me, and that was probably a good thing. Me trying to go toe to toe with Londis would not end well for me. Another episode like that and he's going to find out what happens when I don't fight fair. [/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Anyway, it was confirmed that Fort Rannick and its 75 or so Rangers had gone silent and we let him know the extent of the tattooing – like half the town had them, and all were magic. The next morning we headed out to the fort.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Maybe halfway there we heard a commotion in the woods. Investigating we found a bear in a trap. Firedrin used his sleeping hex on it, and then wanted to leave. As we argued there was singing heard, and a malformed ogre with a trio of dogs appeared. He claimed the 'ranger bear' as his own, and my friends . . . started to leave, despite my protests. (to be fair, Trixie later told me she'd objected as well, but I hadn't heard her as I'd been too enraged at Londis and Firedrin just leaving me alone) I was so distracted that the dogs slipped up and tore the sleeping bear's throat out as the ogre kept babbling about rangers.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]That was it. Alone or not, I couldn't let this pass. I blasted the thing with lightning and as it bellowed with rage Firedrin fired off a fairly advanced spell that changed the creature's outlook toward us. Useful. Find where these rangers are, what's defending them, and then slit this turd's throat.[/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]Problem is, Firedrin is treating it like it's his best friend ever, and his disregard for the fate of the rangers and for the bear that, for all we know, could be a ranger in animal form, is incensing me. I know Trixie is with me, and from the way Tofa is looking at him it's likely she's with us as well. While they were busy I cast [I]Gentle Repose[/I] on the bear and covered it as best as I could – perhaps after we rescue the others someone can do something to help it. And rescue them we will, if I have to go in there myself. [/SIZE][/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]That's not the best option, of course. But I'll be damned if I'm going to leave people to be used like cattle by filthy ogres – including the freakshow that's now friends with our freakshow.[/SIZE][/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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