Cataclysm Denied (IC)

[rs2excelsior]

Welcome to the IC thread for Cataclysm Denied! OOC thread can be found here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?558760-Cataclysm-Denied-Pathfinder-E6-(OOC)&p=23075797).



For centuries, the city of Thorevik has stood as a bastion of civilization standing on the fringes of the blasted wastes that were the Forsaken Lands. The rich mineral deposits in the mines under the mountains known to the Dwarves as the Three Brothers kept its people here even as the remnant energy of the Cataclysm scorched the land nearby. Its massive stone walls and strong guardsmen kept the occasional threat at bay, and its people lived and worked with the terrors of the Forsaken Lands an ominous background presence rather than an ever-present danger.

Over the course of the last few weeks, this has begun to change. Rifts have begun to occur more and more frequently, around and even in the city itself. With the chaotic energy has come panic, and flying rumors of the source of the disruptions--that the miners have dug too deep, that some cursed individual or entropic cult has entered the city, or even that the judgement of the gods themselves is upon them.

Regardless of the reason, the city elders have begun to quietly take steps to deal with the problem before panic spreads too far. A call for volunteers has gone out among the mercenary and adventurous types, looking for people willing to take on a task--details are sparse, but it seems some means has been found to save the city, though getting a hold of it will prove incredibly dangerous. A team which is able to succeed will have nearly any reward the city can provide, though failure will likely result in death. Despite the dire consequences, there are those who answer the call nonetheless.

You are one such group. You find yourselves making your way toward the Gilded District, the area of town where the wealthy patrician families reside. Their opulent mansions speak to the wealth of the city just as effectively as its soaring stone walls. By far the largest and most ornate is that of the Baramunz clan, the dwarven family which runs the mining guilds of the city. As they control the supply of metals to the city's smiths, including the incredibly valuable adamantium that has kept the city from being abandoned long ago, they are by far the most wealthy and influential family within the city. For several centuries they have managed to keep control of the city's government, using their power to put either a member of the clan or one of their allied houses on the seat of government through virtually every election. As such, the Baramunz mansion is the de facto building where Thorevik government business is conducted.

At the gate, a pair of scarred guardsmen search you before allowing you inside. Their armor, halberds, and pistols are inlaid with silvered trim, though you do not doubt their effectiveness should it become necessary to use them. You are led inside past the entry hall, a high-ceiling columned room lined with busts and designed to simultaneously awe and intimidate guests, through various halls and wings of the mansion, to a waiting room. By comparison it is rather plain, though still far from uncomfortable. In ones and twos others enter, until five of you have assembled. The steward, a somewhat groveling old dwarf who walks with a pronounced limp, leads the last member of the group into the room. "That is all we were expecting today," he states in a tinny, warbling voice. "Make yourselves comfortable, we will be with you shortly." With that, he closes the heavy wooden door behind him and leaves the five of you alone in the room.


You have all entered separately (or in small groups, if you want). Feel free to introduce yourselves to one another (or not) and generally set the stage. I'll let you interact IC for a bit, then you'll be given your quest and sent on your way.

[Sønderjye]

The contrast between the majestic white unicorn and it's ragged rider would have been laugh-provoking if the consequence of being impaledby the long ivory horn wasn't so present. His equiptment seems to be poorly maintained, with big holes in pants and shoes and a hairstyle that looks like it never saw a comb. Both his rusted chainmail and the longspear attached to his back you can see spots of what looks like old blood. His eyes flickers quickly from the many humans and his body language suggests that he is far from comfortable being around this many people.

The city itself hadn't been particularly impressive from the outside. There was a few old ruins that were both grander and more intimidating. It was the inside that were breathtaking. There was just. so. many. people. How did they do it? There seemed to be nothing that could stop one of them from stabbing and eating another in broad daylight. The rider was happy that he was removed from ground by his mount, so at worst somebody would try to cut his feet off and he'd have time to react.

It also helped his own nervousness that he could almost smell the fear from the public that were being directed towards the duo. Most of the fearful people he had encountered had chosen to run rather than fight when he encountered them back in his territory so presumably these would be equally unlikely to attack.


At the gate, a pair of scarred guardsmen search you before allowing you inside.

The stranger snarls as the heavily armored guardsmen reaches out for him and a black gas flows out of him and gather as a winged halfling-sized figure with a mouth littered with a row of razor sharp teeth and whose limbs end in sharpened talons.

Seeing the suprise on the guards faces he sends Damian a questioning look.

[hannahbbug3]

Drow had arrived at the mansion house quite early in the morning, having no notion of proper social calling hours and having responded to the call for volunteers as soon as he heard it. Thorevik, whether it wanted Drow or not, was his home, and he wasn't going to let the wild lands swallow it up. He had been out there before and survived it once. He figured he had as good a chance as anyone did of surviving out there.

It actually comes as a bit of a surprise when he finds out that others are expected to arrive. Drow lingers by the warmly glowing hearth in the room, sitting on his knees in the floor before the flickering flames, as the other volunteers slowly trickle in. There are more than he expects, and aside from that, several newcomers to town. He saw it when they had arrived, but he hasn't spent any large amount of time with them on his radar. He but glances up towards them, features impassive under his stony mask, before nodding in greeting. His gaze returns to the flames and he pays little mind to the others as they trickle in. Or, at least it seems so. Instead of watching, he's listening to them, any conversations that start, hearing them piddle around the room. It isn't until the master of the house appears that the pale, silver-haired half-elf gets to his feet, brushing off his knees and crossing his arms as he listens to the man speak - but then, he's gone as soon as he comes, leaving the group alone with each other. Having called attention to himself by standing, Drow is glad for the mask covering his face, which hides the slight nervousness he feels from view.

[LordotTrinkets]

At first, Damian was enamored by the interior of the Thorevik. It was like seeing Zagahn alive and bustling for the first time. After that initial reaction, though, he started to feel overwhelmed by all the PEOPLE. Damian'd been kept up at night by the mating calls of numerous creatures, but he'd never encountered racket so great that it made it hard to stay awake.

It was hard to keep his own thoughts separate from the ones spoken around him, but Damian also was trying to keep a close eye on Forrest, his traveling companion. Forrest wasn't the man's name - poor bloke couldn't remember his name - but Damian found him in the forest. Hence the nickname Forrest. Anyway, Damian could see how Forrest monitored the passersby and knew that he was on a hairtrigger. His concerns were confirmed when they approached the mansion and two guards tried to search them.


The stranger snarls as the heavily armored guardsmen reaches out for him and a black gas flows out of him and gather as a winged halfling-sized figure with a mouth littered with a row of razor sharp teeth and whose limbs end in sharpened talons.

Seeing the suprise on the guards faces he sends Damian a questioning look.

"Calm down!" Damian moved to grasp Forrest by the shoulder, but stopped himself when he realized it might make him more upset. They just want to make sure you have the scent of a friend." After the guards calmed down, Damian allowed them to search him first. "See?"

With that settled, Damian entered the waiting room. The experience didn't begin as pleasantly as Damian had hoped. Another bear loomed threateningly in one of the corners of the room, setting Medved on edge. After that initial shock, though, something seemed... off. The bear neither moved from its spot or frightened anyone else. On top of that, both his and Medved's noses confirmed that it didn't smell like a bear. The duo continued to study the stuffed bear until the steward walked in.

One of the other recruits, a half-elf, tried to begin the introductions, but was seeming to have some troubles. No matter, Damian decided to get the ice broken with a few of the greetings that Medved taught him. And, well, Damian did exactly what a man taught etiquette from a bear would do and walked straight up to Drow, gave him a solid "Hey! My name's Damian. What's your's?", followed by an even solider shove on the shoulder.

Edit: As Damian approaches Drow, he notices that Medved does not follow him, and instead stares frightened at the half-elf.

[hannahbbug3]

Drow gives a grunt as the monster of a half-orc comes over and shoves him. The beastly stranger isn't taller than Drow is, but he more than makes up for it with the sheer size of his arms alone. Drow has always been a spindly, willowy thing, and while the shove doesn't knock him over, it does push him back a pace. To be approached so easily is... strange. People so often tried to steer clear of him, but this... Damien had come forward with no hesitation at all. Drow doesn't misinterpret the shove as an act of aggression, able to tell easily enough by the man's tone of voice that it's some sort of greeting. A strange one. But a friendly one. The only part of Drow's face visible from beneath his mask, his mouth, quirks upwards for a fraction of a second as he regains his balance.

"I'm called Drow," the half-elf answers, "After my mother." His voice is hoarse, like he hardly ever uses it. After a beat of hesitation in which he tries to figure out if it would be appropriate or not, he curls his hand into a fist and sort of bops it off of Damien's shoulder. He can't muster a shove like the orc could, but it seems like contact was an integral part of the man's culture, so Drow joins in, as unused to it as he is. He shifts his gaze - impossible to tell, really, with the mask - over Damien's shoulder, to the bear. "Magnificent beast. Haven't seen one so large in a while. Is he yours?" he asks. Certainly a brute of a creature would have no qualms following this bear of a man.

[dascarletm]

Cyrus strolls to the Baramunz mansion, somewhat reluctant, he had never been hired by such a rich contractor before. Wealthy merchants or scholars, sure, but never in the Gilded District, let alone with the Baramunz. Entirely intimidated Cyrus meets the guards awkwardly, but makes his way to the meeting room. Entering his green cloak concealing his many weapons. He moves deftly and precisely, and completely ruining his stoic he says unconfidently, "Ehm, hello everyone." He sits in a chair, giving a half wave as he does.

He sits waiting for the debriefing.

[Deadguy]

Aerilaya de Marchia had been doing these things since she was old enough to carry her own armor. A call for skill would go out, there would be a briefing involving not nearly enough information, a large reward would be offered with the expectation of failure, and then she would deliver. She looked around the entrance, assessing the wealth. At least this employer should be able to deliver the payment promised, whatever that might be.

"Watch the hands." She warned the guards as she allowed them to search her, arms held out from her sides. Once escorted to the gathering, she stepped to the side but remained close to the doors. Aerilaya looked at each occupant with a narrowed gaze. Quite an odd assortment. She gave a sigh and shook her head. Just another obstacle to overcome.

As the half-orc shoved the half-elf, the mercenary quirked a brow. A blood rivalry? She waited to see if a battle would break out. When there was none, she relaxed slightly and quietly waited for their hosts to arrive.

[Sønderjye]

"Calm down!" Damian moved to grasp Forrest by the shoulder, but stopped himself when he realized it might make him more upset. They just want to make sure you have the scent of a friend." After the guards calmed down, Damian allowed them to search him first. "See?

Seeing that nobody tries to hurt Damian, the stranger moves closer and reluctantly allows them to search his person, sniffing them in turn.

"Why are you doing this?", he asks in a cautious tone.

Later in the room he clearly pays attention to the other introducing themselves but doesn't offer his own name.

He looks at Drow as if trying to determine if the masked figure is eatible. The thing had pointy ears and most things with pointy ears and without sharp teeth could be eaten. Did this Drow had sharp teeth? It was hard to say with the consealed face. The friendly way that Damian interacted seemed to imply not-food so that was probably the safe assumption for now.

Satisfied that it was friend and not Food or Danger, his gaze moves away to study the two other living things in the room. The sitting one seemed far too relaxed for danger. The woman radiated Danger though and he didn't like the way she was looking at Damian while fiddling with her sharp stick. Those could kill. He prepares to have Brother throw himself in front of the shot, should she decide to.

[rs2excelsior]

The guards step back and begin to reach for their weapons when the unicorn rider snarls, but Damien is quickly able to defuse the situation. They still appear uneasy letting someone who seems so feral into the mansion, but they allow the group to pass without further trouble.

The group has a while to wait, sitting alone in the opulent mansion. Small introductions are made and the silence of a group of strangers in uncomfortable proximity settles over the room. After a long while, however, the door swings open once more, opened by the wizened dwarf steward. "Your grace." He steps out of the way, allowing a group of three to enter the room.

The first is a human, probably mid-forties, face heavily scarred from a lifetime of battle. He wears a breastplate emblazoned with the image of a lightning-lined hammer upraised, the emblem of house Baramunz. He carries a long sword and a heavy pistol at his hip. His appearance and clothing is scruffy, but his armor and weapons are meticulously clean. The second is a gnome, dressed in the long robes of a scholar. She appears haggard, hefting a stack of ledgers and scrolls and checking behind her to make sure she has everything she needs. While the human takes position by the door and scowls at the assembled adventurers, she piles her ledgers on the desk and begins sorting through them.

The last person to enter the room is a dwarf, dressed in heavily bejeweled clothing fitting of the manor. He is a black-haired dwarf, with sharp, bright eyes. This is Gamil Baramunz, son of the current Grand Mayor of Thorevik and heir to the Baramunz clan. Though his father holds the political power in the city, it is known that his son has taken over more and more of the family business, and speaks with his father's voice. This dwarf is among the handful of the most powerful people in the city. He stops short as he sees the odd assortment gathered to take up the mission, but quickly composes himself.

"Greetings, and welcome to the manor," he says, meeting each of your eyes in turn. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." He settles into a large padded chair. "As you surely know, Thorevik has a problem. It seems the rifts have been becoming more and more common within the city. People have begun to panic, and the city guard is having difficulty coping when madmen are popping up everywhere and monsters have appeared in the street. Unfortunately, there is no way of predicting when or where a rift may occur, or closing it once it opens--until it closes on its own, which may or may not even happen. If things continue on the path they're going, the city may have to be evacuated." He pauses, collecting his thoughts. "Fortunately, there might be something that can be done. Annen?" The gnome rustles through her stack of papers and produces an intricate drawing of a staff--made of wrought iron, lined with runes and bearing a glowing diamond in its center. Attached to the drawing are a sheaf of notes on an elven wizard by the name of Altawaeyl.

"This is a staff made in the earliest days of the Cataclysm. As the rifts first began to appear, efforts were made to contain them and stabilize the fabric of reality which was being torn apart. It was believed that all such efforts were unsuccessful, for obvious reasons--we wouldn't be living on the edge of a wasteland if they had worked. But our researchers have found evidence that Altawaeyl may have, in fact, been successful on a small scale. Fragmentary records indicate her tower may have survived for longer than expected as the Cataclysm spread, but it is believed that it eventually fell. If you can find her tower, you may be able to locate the staff. If it can be activated, we can stabilize the space around Thorevik. It's a lot of ifs... but it's the best hope this city has so far. We do not know the exact location of the tower, but it will be deep within forsaken lands. This is not a trivial task, so feel free to ask whatever questions you may have." Gamil says, holding the gaze of each of you in turn.

[LordotTrinkets]

He can't muster a shove like the orc could, but it seems like contact was an integral part of the man's culture, so Drow joins in, as unused to it as he is. He shifts his gaze - impossible to tell, really, with the mask - over Damien's shoulder, to the bear. "Magnificent beast. Haven't seen one so large in a while. Is he yours?" he asks.

"Yep, that's Medved over there. He's--" Damian stops midsentence as the steward enters and makes his announcement. He has no idea who this 'Grace' fellow is, but he can tell that the people entering are important.

Upon the invitation to sit, Damian crouches on the floor and begins paying attention. Listening is something you have to get good at in order to survive in the wild, so Damian picks up on all that's said.

"May I see those papers?" he says in an inside voice. When the papers are handed to him, Damian tries to make sense of what is written. Most of the words are too big for him to comprehend, but before giving up, he gives the notes a good whiff. Damian then hands them back with a "Yeah, I got nothing. Did this tower have anything special about it? Nearby rivers, lakes, weird rocks?

Knowledge (Geography) to see if Damian can identify any mentioned traits, or at least logical places to build a tower (i.e. not a valley): [roll0]

[dascarletm]

Cyrus' almost comically uneasy nature dramatically shifts when the representatives enter the room. He sits at the edge of his chair hands pressed together in front of his lower face as he listens intently to everything they have to say. His eyes don't waver but for brief moments when they dart to his supposed soon to be compatriots, or rivals depending on how they want to compensate us. He thinks though, that something so important wouldn't be a free-for-all offer. We would be sent as a team, he would have to deal with that later.

After they finish talking, he waits to let another break the ice. Damian asks for his papers, and as he looks over them Cyrus speaks in a manner totally different than before. Confidently, and with almost devilish purpose he says, "So, this wizard may have been successful on a small scale, and maybe we can enhance whatever held back the rifts at his tower if we can find it deep in the forsaken lands? I'm going to be blunt. I can see why you've gathered such a band of misfits, this is likely a suicide mission after what could be a herring. For me, the rifts are good for business, though so close to town hurts, I'm throwing away good business. I think we should start with how much you're going to pay us to throw our lives away."

After he finishes he sits back in his chair with confidence not shown before, crossing his arms and waiting for a response.

[Sønderjye]

The stranger follows the newcomers with curious eyes. Why were they wearing so much jewelry? It seemed really heavy and would likely slow them down if they had to run. On top of that it didn't offer any meaningful protection.

His eyes are equally curious when the robed gnome speaks but contrary to his soon-to-be comrades he doesn't speak. Instead he waits in anticipation. What the robed guy said was interesting enough but he wasn't sure how it related to him.

[Deadguy]

Laya folded her arms across her armored chest as the others chimed in with questions. Their feelings seemed to mirror her own. "It seems like a wild goose chase. Is there even an assumed location in your stack of papers?"

"Any backstory on the mage could be helpful as well. They tend to have specialties that carry over to their defenses. If we find it, there will probably be active or dormant protection and knowing what her particular talents were could help us overcome them."

[hannahbbug3]

Drow, when he finally speaks, does ask a question. However, it is not directed to their employers, but to the fellow group members. "I don't mean to sound... arrogant," he says quietly, "But I was wondering if I was the only one that has been into the Rift before. If you all haven't been... I just wanted to know, that is, that you all knew what we were getting in to. But," he looks over to the dwarf leading the meeting, and ducks his head. "I suppose that conversation can wait."

[rs2excelsior]

Gamil locks eyes with Cyrus, his gaze unflinching. "Yes, this is possibly a suicide mission. And it may be a red herring. Which is why we aren't just sending you after this one artifact. Other teams are searching other places, and researchers are still combing the archives. But this represents our best chance--if also the most dangerous. As for business, would you call it good business when your best friend is seized by madness and blindly attacks everything in sight? Or when demons begin spilling into the street? Or an entire city block of people are turned inside out one night? You may make your living feeding off the edge of these rifts, but things will get far, far worse if left unchecked." He turns to the rest of the group. "You'll find a map enclosed. It is almost certainly inaccurate, both because of its age and the fact that nothing stays static for very long in the forsaken lands, but it's the best we have. The tower was on the outskirts of the city of Eranel, which rested on a major river by the same name. The city no longer exist, of course, at least not as it did before the Cataclysm, but there should be some sort of ruins still visible. The tower was to the north, in the foothills of the mountains. The locations are marked. Any landmarks I could give you are likely to be gone or severely changed, but perhaps some traces will remain. As far as the...fields of magic Altawaeyl studied, she was very interested in manipulating space. Pocket dimensions, unusual geometries, staircases that end and begin in the same place. These are the kinds of defenses she might have employed at her tower.

He leans back, as if considering whether he has any more relevant information for finding the location or penetrating its defenses. Apparently unable to offer further information, he moves on to rewards.

"The city will supply you with provisions, transport, and an advance of one thousand gold pieces each. Should you return successfully, in addition to being known as the ones who saved the city, we are prepared to offer a sum of nine thousand gold. Each. In addition to whatever you may be able to recover, aside from the staff, of course. I trust that will be acceptable?" The gnome gives Gamil a look, but he either does not notice or deliberately ignores her.

[dascarletm]

Cyrus keeps his gaze on Gamil, unmoved, and after Gamil finishes Cyrus replies to Drow, "I've been in the lands before, but not more than a few days travel." Turning back to everyone else, "I suppose I'm game to risk my life for ten thousand gold if you all are. Has anyone seen ruins that could be this before? I know I haven't." His posture and tension relax as the talk of gold finishes, as he slumps back into his chair.

[Sønderjye]

The young man still wasn't sure what the point of all those shiny metal pieces were. They couldn' be eaten, they could protect you against the cold and you couldn't use them as weapons. And a thousand of them? That'd be really heavy and slow you down.

He didn't care much for this strange town with it's strange smelly people but food sounded good and it would be good to have a pack. Less risk and could probably help him absorb some of the creatures he couldn't before. On top there probably was a reason to why the beartamer suggested they'd go here.

"I accept", he says.

He sends drow a questioning look at the mention of the rift, unfamiliar with the term.

When travelling the forsaken lands, have my character seen something like those ruins?

[Deadguy]

The heavily-armored woman nodded her head, seeming to be accepting of the terms. "At least she wasn't a necromancer." Laya shuddered at the thought of a necromancer's laboratory stagnating for that long.

"I assume everything is already staged for departure?"

[dascarletm]

"What sort of transportation will we be using? I imagine a wagon or cart of sort. I'll need a little time to prepare, myself." Cyrus thinks for a second. " Let me help you go over those maps," he says to Drow as he gets up and moves to look them over.

Cyrus however seems to be a little distracted by the huge sum of gold he may receive if he completes this task.

[hannahbbug3]

A thousand gold is far more money than Drow has ever owned in his life. He's certainly seen that much before - hell, the shining gems that he could see in the mansion around him spoke of wealth which he had imagined of - but it had never been his own. And ten times that amount for success? There were... endless possibilities with what he could do. But he focuses his attention on the map, frowning. He can read the map well enough, it makes sense and is labeled and such, but he gets the creeping sense that such trivialities as north and south wouldn't matter much in the Rift. Last time he'd been through, he hadn't been alone. But, he supposes, he wouldn't be alone this time, either. He takes a cursory glance around the room, then nods to himself. Drow picks up the map, rolls it neatly, and places it in his bag.

"A thousand gold shouldn't be wasted," he says, not looking at the others as he speaks. "We should at least use it to prepare a little more, if we can."

[dascarletm]

Cyrus nods back, "Right, Gamil, may I have access to a gunforge and alchemical lab for a day? I would like to prepare more shot and weapons for the journey."

[rs2excelsior]

Unfortunately, neither Cyrus nor Drow have been around the ruins that Gamil speaks of--you've seen ruined cities in the Forsaken Lands before. They are often quite dangerous; the rifts seem to open more frequently around population centers for some reason, and despite the fact that they have generally been abandoned for thousands of years the latent energy still remains. You are both able to recognize at least some of the nearer landmarks, but after that you'll be venturing into unfamiliar territory.

Gamil nods as the party seems to begin to accept the proposition. "Idal, if you please?" The gnomish woman stands up, gathering the papers she didn't leave with the rest of you and hurrying out of the room. "Very well, you will have your payment. As for transportation, we have set aside a heavy cart and a pair of mules for your use. They should be able to handle most terrain you'll encounter out there. Ten day's food for each of you and for the mules is already loaded. Anything further, you will have to provide yourselves. I am sure I don't need to remind you"--he glances to Cyrus and Drow, who seem quite well acquainted with the Forsaken Lands--"that travel can be treacherous and food scarce."


Cyrus nods back, "Right, Gamil, may I have access to a gunforge and alchemical lab for a day? I would like to prepare more shot and weapons for the journey."


"Certainly. Go to the Blue Anvil and tell the forgemaster I sent you." Gamil scratches out a note on a piece of parchment, affixing it with his seal and passing it to Cyrus. "That should cover everything you need." He pauses, taking one last look around the room. "If there is nothing more you need from me, I'll let you go about your business. Idal will meet you at the door with your advances. Best of luck to you. The city is in your hands." With that, unless someone stops him with further questions, Gamil Beremunz turns and walks out of the room. The guardsman remains by the door a moment longer before turning with a scowl and following Gamil out into the hall.

Feel free to discuss whatever you'd like before leaving. If you have more questions for Gamil, you can stop him before he leaves. Otherwise, when you're ready to go, Idal (the gnome) will give each of you a sack containing 100 platinum coins as you leave.

[hannahbbug3]

Drow begins for the door at once, not paying much mind to the others for an instant, but then, he remembers - he's working with this group, and they need to have a plan in mind. So he stalls when he reaches the door, and turns back. "I have a place, on the edge between the city and the Rift. It might be a good place to meet, when we are ready to leave," he says, coming back over so the others can hear him describe where he lives. "It is not large. Certainly not an adequate place of rest for this many people. But the door locks, if there's anything you wish to leave behind, it will be safe. No one bothers my home." He cuts his gaze over to Cyrus - still hard to tell, with the mask - but it's obvious he's speaking to the man. "I may accompany you to the alchemy lab. I rarely get the chance to worth with masterwork tools," he hums. Then, back to the others. "Shall we settle on a meeting time? A day, perhaps?"

[dascarletm]

"By all means." Cyrus nods. "I think I can finish my work in a day, especially if I get to it immediately." He stands up getting ready to depart to the Blue Anvil.

[LordotTrinkets]

As Damian receives his bag of platinum, he is more shocked by the words of Drow. This mysterious fellow, who's just a few minutes ago suggested that he's been INSIDE the rifts, is inviting everyone to his house. "Err... All right, meeting together tomorrow sounds good, but... This rift you mentioned before... It's not IN your house, is it?" Damian cringes at the thought, but pulls himself out of it when he sees Forrest getting closer to the gnome. If he doesn't help Forrest, he'll wind up starting a scene or throwing that 1000 away.

Alright, Damian went and used the funds to get himself some potions of barkskin and some enchanted armor for Medved. I'll just fastforward on the shopping scene unless Sonderjye wants to play it out.

[hannahbbug3]

"On the edge," Drow says. "I grew up within the Rift. It's never bothered me," he says, as though it's a perfectly natural statement, though he knows it's anything but. There's no pride or swagger in his voice. Simply stating a fact. "I can show you the way, if you would prefer. It's easy to get lost on the edge of the city."

[Sønderjye]

During debriefing

The ragged adult makes a sharp breath in annoyance after Drow ignores his obvious question.


"Ten day's food for each of you and for the mules is already loaded. Anything further, you will have to provide yourselves. I am sure I don't need to remind you that travel can be treacherous and food scarce."

At this the young man looks up: "10 days? It sounds like you expect this to take a lot longer. Why don't you give us food for the entire time?"

-- Later --

Assuming a meeting time/place were agreed upon and someone told him that he could exchange the shiny metal pieces for animals, the-one-who-lost-his-name later finds himself at the market place. He'll accept any offer of company.

Mule shopping

He poked the big fourlegged animal once. No reaction. Then once more. Still no reaction. It was confusing really. How could such an inattentive animal avoid eing eaten. Sure, it was big but there were far bigger things out there.

Poison shopping

After getting a mule he went looking for some kind of poison-producing animal. Preferably a vermin of sorts, like a spider or a scorpion.

Exotic beast shopping

Regardless of whether he found a vermin, he then went out to scavange for more exotic non-animals. He had heard a rumour that someone was selling a small dragon and he wanted it.

In the SRD mules are 4gp, scorpion 15, spider 25, and pseudodragon 200, Hippogrif egg 200. Of course your prices might be different and there might be other interesting beings.

Anyone are invited to join the shopping and anyone who came with are invited to throw some rolls around to help the search. It can also be done of screen or done parallel to the adventure itself.

Knowledge local doesn't make sense as he would have no way of knowing beforehand. Here's some diplomacies though, use whichever you want.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[dascarletm]

Cyrus goes to the Blue Anvil, and using any assistance they can provide begins working on crafting two new masterwork pistols, and some more ammunition for the trip. After a good half-day he heads to the shops to pick up all manner of supplies: rations, adventuring gear, alchemical weapons, and other mundane gear. He also loads up a few barrels of water from the local well to put in the cart, water may or may not always be available.

The next morning he finishes up his work at the Blue Anvil and heads to the rendezvous.

[hannahbbug3]

Drow is waiting outside of his small house, gaze trained on the path that leads to his home. When the first person of the group arrives, he stands up, crosses his arms, but offers a small smile. His mouth is still the only thing visible from underneath his mask, but he seems pleased. "Glad to see you," he says. As confident as he is that he can come out of it well, he doesn't want to face the wastelands alone.

[rs2excelsior]

At this the young man looks up: "10 days? It sounds like you expect this to take a lot longer. Why don't you give us food for the entire time?"

"We are giving you supplies from our personal stockpiles. Fact of the matter is, I don't know exactly how long this should take. That is why we've asked for volunteers with experience travelling in the forsaken lands. That is why we have also included cash to supplement your supplies as you see fit.


-----


Sønderjye:

You are easily able to find a mule, a spider, and a scorpion available for sale for sale at SRD prices. The markets in Thorevik are fairly extensive, and while exotic animals aren't exactly high-demand, you hear rumors that someone dealing with such creatures is in town. It's an old, wizened human, not the person you'd expect to be handling potentially large and potentially dangerous creatures. Following the rumors, you head to a ramshackle old shop to find the shopkeeper bent over a large cage shrouded by a blanket, inserting a stick with a hunk of raw meat attached. You can't see exactly what it is inside the cage, but after a few moments of squawking he removes the stick without the piece of meat. You describe what you're looking for.

"Hmmm... Sounds like a pseudodragon. Unless you're looking to buy an actual dragon hatchling. That'll be considerably more expensive, if I could even get my hands on one. He moves over toward a large tank of water, gazing inside. From within the kelp and murky water, you see a goblin-like face looking back at you, before disappearing in a flash of tentacles. "Pseudodragons don't generally live this far north, and they're tricky things to catch. Sharp as a whip. But... I know someone who breeds them. Give me some time, and I can see what I can do about getting you one. In the meantime, feel free to look around if there's anything else you'd like. Got a couple of these beauties in last week," he says, indicating an enclosure with a few cat-like creatures nosing around in some brush. They look like large cats, but with bulbous, spiked tails.

[dascarletm]

Cyrus greets Drow extending a hand to shake, "I don't think we've actually exchanged names. I'm Cyrus, Cyrus Tarr, mercenary of the Red Wolves," he pulls up a sleeve to show a tattoo of a stylized wolf with Celtic knotting around it. I normally work alone, but I guess this is a er, special sort of mission... I believe I've seen you around, Drow right?"

[hannahbbug3]

Drow's expression warms a little bit when he sees the extended hand. It's surprise that colors his features. People often don't approach him so freely, but in two days, two different people have come right up to him with no issue at all. He follows the social protocol and shakes hands, his grip light and not lingering. "Yes. Drow," he answers. "After my mother." He gives Cyrus an up and down look, then nods. "You seem capable. I'll be glad to have you with me out there."

[Sønderjye]

"We are giving you supplies from our personal stockpiles. Fact of the matter is, I don't know exactly how long this should take. That is why we've asked for volunteers with experience travelling in the forsaken lands. That is why we have also included cash to supplement your supplies as you see fit."

"Neither do we?", the youngster asks looking confused. His face lights up when an idea comes to mind: "What about you give us as much food as you could imagine we would ever need, and then we'll give it back when we come back? "

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

Mule

His eyes lights up as he exchanges a few pieces of worthless metal for that giant animal! It might be dumb but the hungry void within him roars as the thing becomes his possesion. He doesn't waste a moment, immediately extending the tendrils of his soul and dragging the beast into himself.

Spider

Having learned his lesson from the terrified glaced of the prior crowd of people he moves to a discrete alley before absorbing it.

Magical beast and where to find them

'Pseudodragon?', the ragged rider thinks, finding the old man's knowledge lacking. There wasn't much pseudo over the tiny dragon creature. He of course doesn't say that. "Pseudo is fine, I don't care for the type of dragon. I'll be heading out soon though, how fast can you do it?"

"All of these look interesting. Mind introducing me?", he asks looking with hungry eyes at the many different beings.

Only knowledge I have ranks in is knowledge nature and I am guessing these aren't animals.
The Monster Trainer Perk called Appraise Monster (https://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/3rd-party-classes/northwinter-press/monster-trainer/trainer-perks/appraise-monster) lets me use an appraise check to learn a monster's HP, CR and whether it has low hp(0%-24%), medium(25%-49%) or high (50%-100%). Here's some rolls
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[LordotTrinkets]

Damian blinks when Drow casually says that he lived in the rift, and takes a step back when he realized that Drow didn't deny his house holding a rift. But still, this Drow fellow clearly doesn't want rifts opening up willy nilly, so maybe he just learned how to control this one? The idea didn't strike Damian as entirely crazy. Many people would insist that his bond with Medved was impossible after all.

Damian tries to act cool, but the pale side of his face is clearly flushed from fright. "Nah, I think I can find my way." After saying that, he's on his way to go shopping with Forrest.

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

Mule

Things seemed to be going pretty well. Forrest was completely amazed by these gold pieces they were given and spent them without incident... Then he decided to 'eat' the mule right in front of everyone. The sight inspired exactly what was to be expected and Damian readied himself to make a get away.

Poison

Forrest had learned his lesson from last time, much to Damian's relief, and absorbed the spiders out of view from others. It seemed that Forrest had learned just enough customs to at least avoid causing an incident. As such, he decided to make some quick errands before rushing back.

Errands

Damian drops off Medved's armor for magical enchantment, then stops by a potion shop to purchase some useful looking oils. Damian had to admit, these gold coins offset him too. They were called 'gold,' but they looked nothing like gold. He also couldn't count to one thousand, but he also knew that there were far less than that many in his wallet. However, what he handed over surely was enough, so it didn't make sense to look deeper.

Magic Animals

Damian reached the shop just in time to hear the shopkeep invite Forrest to look at the cat things. That look and request to be 'introduced' had Damian disturbed, but he figured that Forrest just wanted to see if the animals were any good before buying. However, just to be sure Damian walked up to Forrest from his side, making sure he knew he was coming, and casually mentioned. "Just be sure to look with only your eyes, ok?"

[Deadguy]

Laya accepted the gold with a tip of her head in thanks. She hefted it's weight approvingly. "Never enough to get what I want, but always enough to get what I need." She shrugged and smirked as she made her way from the compound toward the markets, specifically the enchanters. A simple enchantment to increase the sturdiness of her armor was all she was after, expecting it to be tested heavily on this trip.

OOC: +1 added to Full Plate

[rs2excelsior]

"Ah, see, a pseudodragon isn't actually a true dragon, it just... oh, never mind." The shopkeeper realizes the odd man doesn't seem all that interested in dragon classification. "It will take some time to get in touch with my supplier, but assuming he has a hatchling ready to send me, it will take perhaps a week? Maybe two? It is not trivial to find someone who will ship such creatures, you see. In the meantime..." He moves nearer to the enclosure which the pair are observing. "These are called digmauls. Cute little things, but don't let them drop on you from above. Those tails aren't just for show. I've got a few giant cockroaches in those cages over there--keep them covered, see, some folk don't like bugs all that much--and you caught me feeding Phillipon there, my gryph. I usually don't name the animals, but, well," the old man gives a chuckle. "He was just too cute not to." Lifting up the cover on the enclosure, you see a dark colored, greasy looking bird with a razor-sharp beak and six legs which only fits the most unique definitions of "cute." "I have a few Moa birds out back, as well, but I don't keep them in here. They need room to run."

Digmaul: CR 3, 32 hp
Giant Cockroach: CR 1/2, 8 hp
Gryph: CR 1, 15 hp
Moa: CR 2, 19 hp

all the animals in the shop have full hp

[Sønderjye]

Magc Animals


"Just be sure to look with only your eyes, ok?"

He sends Damian a toothy grin and then returns to his studying.

"I don't have a week", he responds to the seller not hiding his disappointment. "How much is the Digmaul? And have you anything more exotic?"

I recommend that we finish this offscreen since it's holding off the rest of the game.

[LordotTrinkets]

Damian breathes a sign of relief.

---

As he and Medved approach Drow's house, Damian grins when he sees the others are outside the mysterious house. Just going into a rift gives Damian shivers.

About 30 feet from the house, Medved stops abruptly, causing Damian to tumble to the ground head first. "What was that for?" he groans while rubbing his head. Nevertheless, Damian recovers quickly and goes to introduce himself to Cyrus. "Hey bud, I'm Damian." he points to his bear, "And that's my USUALLY loyal mount, Medved. So what's your name?"

[hannahbbug3]

Drow's gaze goes to Medved when the bear suddenly stops. It's something that he's used to, at this point. That animals tend to avoid him. But he decides it's probably best not to mention that, lest the words deter Damian from joining them. Drow knows that he's really not dangerous - at least, to things that aren't a danger to him, first - but he doesn't really have a way of explaining that to the bear, so he keeps quiet on it. He gives Damian and Forrest a nod when the arrive, straightening up from where he had been leaned against the side of his house to greet them. "We're just waiting on one more, aren't we?" he asks. "The woman?"

[Deadguy]

Laya picked up the armor from the shop she had purchased the day before. Once she had donned the armor again, the woman brought herself and equipment to meet her new group. She gave them a silent nod in greeting as she arrived.

[dascarletm]

Replying to Damian's greeting, Cyrus looks him and his bear up and down, "Ususally? Think of that, going into the Forsaken Lands, and mauled by a bear." he gives an awkward chuckle, delivering his joke dry and devoid of comedic timing. He follows with a smile showing his attempt to be friendly, "I'm Cyrus by the way, you?" He pauses noticing Damian just gave his name, he shakes his head regretting adding the you. "Oh, you already gave your name, Damian. Ahem." Cyrus shifts uncomfortably.

[rs2excelsior]

"Unfortunately not, not in the store at least. Not since those people got mauled by the--well, no need to talk about that right now. The digmaul are a hundred gold a head, if you're interested. And if you like I can have a pseudodragon waiting for you when you return."

We can finish the transaction in the OOC, sure.

[dascarletm]

Cyrus checks to make sure everything is secured and stowed on the wagon, and on his person. He looks to the others, "So, ahem, do we have those maps? We should figure out which way leads us to this tower."

[Sønderjye]

"I take one digmaul," he says: "And yes, if you have one when I get back that would be great."

Having finished the shopping trip and feeling full from all the juicy souls, he heads over to the meeting spot, trailing along Damian.

He'll stand around and not really talk, though when Damian starts talking, he moves close and takes a sniff, putting their individual smells to memory.

[hannahbbug3]

"I have the map," Drow confirms, taking it from his pack for the others to see. He glances at the map, then towards the wilderness. "It seems as though we need to go that way," he says.

Whether or not he's right will depend on his survival check, I guess. :smalltongue:

[roll0]

[LordotTrinkets]

Damian looks over Drow's shoulder at the map completely oblivious to 'personal bubbles.' The lines and squiggles were all supposed to be mountains and rivers and whatnot, but Damian couldn't understand them for the life of him. Instead, he just nodded in agreement and motioned for Medved to follow him to that general direction.