(PF) maggie's Rise of the Runelords: Hook Mountain Massacre IC

[Desril]

Setsuna

Keeping her hand on Maethilur's hilt but not drawing the black blade, Setsuna quickly glances from the strung up man to the worg before him. They were vicious and cunning creatures, but they were intelligent, and that meant they could be reasoned with. Intelligent didn't mean smart, however, so the Tian princess tried her best to keep a calm, level voice, as if trying to keep an animal from being spooked when she spoke up, "There is no need for us to fight, worg. We are going to help this man, but we do not want to harm you, if you leave now in peace there will be no trouble for either of us," she says, hoping the beast takes her up on the offer, hoping Brin hurries over to heal the man before his wounds get the better of him.

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I roll to seduce the--

Diplomacy (1d20+11)[19]

[jamieth]

Naya

"It's as Miss Setsuna said", Naya nods, seeing that Setsuna realized the beast for what it was, "We won't allow this man to come to more harm, but we don't want to harm you either", she says, raising an empty hand towards the worg... which might not fully convey a meaning of 'I'm unarmed' when coming from a sorceress, but still.

Spoiler: OOC

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Diplomacy (1d20+5)[20]; treat as Aid Another attempt?

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Sweet words don't seem to be having any effect on this beast. Ears flattened and its tail stiff with defiance, the worg continues to growl menacingly, even stalking a deliberate step forward in Naya's direction.

"There's no point reasoning with these furred blighters. It's a worg. Whatever it's up to, it's up to no good. And there'll be more of its kind close by - you heard the howls." Shalelu's voice from behind you is cold and brisk with anger. Hurrying up from behind Red, she nocks an arrow to her bow and sights down at the worg's head, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

[Bhaakon]

Brin squints through bleary eyes at the battered man in shorts barely better than rags, and immediately takes note of a familiar detail--and not the wiry thews highlight by his emaciation, or a lucky glimpse through his torn drawers. "See how ragged the flesh is 'round his wounds? That's the work of an ogre hook, just like the man I treated last night." She whispers. "And he's been starved, long enough for it to show. Why are the ogres keeping prisoner and leaving them tied to a tree in the woods, eh? Some kind of offering? Or are they laying bait for a hunt? Or is it just a game?"

"Something about this stinks fierce, I say. But I don't know what to do about 'cept cut the man down and ask him. And that mutt is in the way." She clears her throats loudly. "You, worg! You going to get your food doled out like scraps tossed to a whimpering lapdog, or do you fill your belly with a proper hunt, eh? Have some pride and begone."

"And if he don't wanna go..." She mutters, unshouldering her weapon.

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Hey, it might work... yet another Diplomacy! (1d20+8)[12]

[jamieth]

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Taking what was said in OOC as canon...

As the party's collective call to the beast's common sense makes the worg back away, naya immediately rushes towards the prisoner, and starts untying his ropes.

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post / Red

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Red's Perception checks:
(1d20+12)[29] - passed
(1d20+14)[16] - failed!

Naya's Reflex save vs pit trap: (1d20+7)[10] - failed

Shalelu's Attack: (1d20+12)[27], Damage: (1d8+1)[7]

Something in Brin's candour seems to rattle the worg. Even as it curls its black lips and continues to growl through bared fangs at the lot of you, hackles raised, its tail twitches and lowers to the ground - a giveaway semaphore. It takes an uncertain step backwards. Then another. Shalelu, however, is not as willing to continue negotiations.

"Vel, o thyr pyl-" Muttering through clenched teeth, her green eyes glinting cold as jade, Shalelu looses a single arrow at the worg. The feathered shaft strikes the beast squarely in the rump, causing it to yelp in pained alarm. Shying sideways, the worg promptly bolts for the cover of the forest, not even pausing to give a parting snarl.

As soon as the way is clear, Naya rushes forward to deliver the bound man of his predicament, failing to notice in her haste the unnatural disturbance of the leaves just below the man. No sooner does she tread within ten feet of the man, the sylph feels the earth beneath her feet somehow flex and then abruptly break beneath her feet, the world suddenly going dark, filled with the awful din of the snappingand splintering of twigs.

For the rest of you, standing too far to reach, you can only watch in horror as the ground underneath Naya gives way - plunging the sylph into the gaping maw of some cunningly disguised pit.

"M-miss Naya!" Too stunned to even berate herself mentally for having failed to spot the trap, Red barely gasps out the sylph's name. Stumbling to the edge of the pit, she hesitates, then peers over, fearing the worst.

Naya casts Feather Fall as an immediate action.

GM ruling on the use of Feather Fall vs Camouflaged Spiked Pit Trap

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According to the PFSRD:

The affected creatures or objects fall slowly. Feather fall instantly changes the rate at which the targets fall to a mere 60 feet per round (equivalent to the end of a fall from a few feet), and the subjects take no damage upon landing while the spell is in effect.

GM will take this to mean that Naya does not incur the 5d6 falling damage for falling 50 feet. But she is still falling nevertheless, which means the spikes in the pit still get the attack roll against Naya. GM has rolled that there are (1d4)[4] spikes in the pit. Since Naya is falling slowly, GM will allow Naya an additional reflex save at DC 12 against each of them to avoid, i.e. 4 reflex saves.

Rolls are all in the dice thread, but basically, Naya is very lucky. Perhaps panic sharpens her agility - she manages to dodge 3 of the 4 spikes but still takes damage as follows for the last spike.

Attack: (1d20+15)[19], Damage: (1d6+5)[11]

[jamieth]

The moment ground disappears from behnd her, Naya brely registers as a threat; she wasn't afraid of falling since she was barely a toddler. So, she only gave an encouraging smile to her companions as she slowly drifted down... and didn't even bother to check what exactly she was drifing towards. A sharp pain in her leg reminded her of the extreme stupidness of that decision... "Ouch! Eh, Miss Red, don't worry, it's not so bad!" she quickly chants a spell and darts up the pit, "We were lucky it was me... if someone actually fell all the way down here..."

[Desril]

Setsuna

Frowning as Shalelu hits the retreating worg, there wasn't a point in being hostile since it was already leaving, but such concerns paled in comparison to Naya's sudden fall. Gasping, she rushes over to the edge of the pit alongside Red to see if the sylph is ok, sighing in relief when Naya calls out. I should've been paying more attention, if I'd seen the trap I could've warned her!

Still, there wasn't a point in kicking herself for long, there was a dying man and a trapped friend to rescue. Unfortunately, she didn't have any rope handy for Naya's sake, so turning to Shalelu and Red she asks them to help get Naya while she and Brin get the man down. The cleric's healing abilities were probably going to be needed, after all. Noman she leaves out only because she doesn't know what he can do and isn't sure where he can help out best, but doesn't object to him volunteering.

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Some of you already know this but my computer died last Thursday, so I'm SOL until I get a new motherboard. Will be posting on laptop until then. Sorry for any dip in quality in the meantime

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post / Red

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Red takes 10 on Climb check for 20.

The half-smirk of satisfaction that fleets across Shalelu's face as her arrow strikes the worg abruptly vanishes at Red's cry of alarm when Naya falls, causing her to immediately spin with another arrow readied to the string, cursing guiltily under her breath. Nor does seeing the sylph float back out of the pit a few scant seconds later do much to ease the elf's tension.

"Damnation. My apologies, Naya. This is precisely the sort of thing I should have spotted before you had a chance to walk into it. Sister Brin is right - this whole thing stinks, and the smell's getting worse the more we linger. I've no doubt that ogres are mixed up in this somehow." Giving Naya a brief nod of relief, she immediately glances back at the knot of trees that the worg had vanished into. "I'll stand guard. Get that man down and see what he's about."

Moving the man to safety takes some awkward wrangling - with Naya having sprung the pit trap under him, the poor sod now dangles over a 10 foot wide hole. It is only when Red shimmies up the tree with kukri in hand to cut his bonds and haul him by his wrists out of falling range, that those of you trying to rescue him are able to get him down.

Even in the crisp cool air of late autumn, the stink of sour perspiration and unwashed body hits those of you close enough to the man like a slap in the face. A weeks-old beard stubbles his chin, his wrists raw from the chafing of the rope and some of his scabbed wounds beginning to bleed anew from having been cracked open as you all struggled to get him down. For those of you who think to check his person for signs of the Sihedron, the search turns out negative - aside from older, faded scars, the man's body is free of tattoo marks.

[jamieth]

Naya
HP 13/24

"No, no, miss Red!" Naya protests, landing in front of the pit, avoiding stepping on her wounded leg - and ultimately resorting to floating several inches off the ground, at least for the next several minutes, "I got too careless... A former tomb explorer should no better than to run forward before traps expert okays it! And I did know better, just..." she sighs, "Need to get old habits back, I think..."

"Anyway, whoever left this man here to die... didn't do it for the cult, it seems. Still... that means there's at least two groups making human sacrifices around Turtleneck Ferry?" the sylph shakes her head in disbelief.

[Bhaakon]

Brin hardly takes any time at all to look at the man's wounds before she's busy plying her wand to close them. Only when that first task is done does she splash some water in his face to rouse him. Should could try and dribble it down his throat, but he was like as not choke and cough on it.

"I don't know about a sacrifice. The man was clearly bait for that trap. The question is whether it was meant for that worg or if it was meant for people like us." She responds to Naya as she attempt to wake the man. "Maybe he can answer, if I can get him conscious again. He'll probably be famished." She ruefully withdraws what little remains of the snack she'd taken for the road, one and a half of the delicious fish cakes, and prepares to offer it up along with some water and stronger beverage if the man desires. Well, they were cold anyway.

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Spend up to three charges off the wand for now, unless fewer will top him off:
(1d8+1)[7]
(1d8+1)[4]
(1d8+1)[6]

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Under Brin's ministrations, the worst of the man's wounds knit and close, dried blood flaking away to reveal raw flesh, pale stripes on his dark skin. Coughing feebly as Brin splashes water in his face, he cracks open his eyes, squinting up at the elf's nostrils for several bleary seconds before turning his head to peer suspiciously around at the rest of you.

"... Yer not from Turtleback. Who are ye?" The man's voice is hoarse with disuse, his dry lips cracking afresh as he speaks, doing his best not to look at Brin's proffered waterskin. "Did yer escape the halfbreed and his worgs?"

[jamieth]

Naya
HP 13/24

"When we found you..." the sylph shakes her head, gradually settling back to her two feet, "There was only one worg... we drove it away... but what is halfbreed? We... heard about ogres nearby, but..."

"Oh", she adds, "We were sent from Magnimar to find out what happened to the Turtleneck Ferry... apparently there was some kind of communications failure... And you - are you from the village too?"

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

The man grimaces as he tries to sit up, only to wince and glance down at the half-sealed gashes on his belly. "Halfbreeds. Ogrekin. Whole bloody family of them. The Grauls - did no-one warn yer? One of the fat bastards strung me up here, gods alone know why. Styles himself a crack hunter, hangs out with worgs..."

Unable to desist any longer, the man snatches the waterskin from Brin and takes a good long swig, water spilling over and dripping in rivulets down his tangled beard. Coughing as he mops his mouth with the back of a grimy fist, he gives a curt shake of the head in response to Naya's other question. "Nah- not Turtleback. I'm a Temros. Vale Temros. From Rannick, born and bred up at the Fort. Me whole family's with the Arrows. Though there ain't no family left alive now, nevermind the Arrows or the damn Fort."

[Desril]

Setsuna

She'd left the man's care to Brin, knowing she'd just be in the way, but that doesn't mean she can't speak to him and she can't help but react to that last comment. "What do you mean? What happened to Fort Rannick?"

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

The man - apparently called Vale - takes another greedy swig from Brin's waterskin, but nearly spews the contents of his mouth out in shock at Setsuna's question. "Yer don't know yet? Could've sworn I'd been caught for weeks - why, the Fort, it's gone. Run over by them Kreegs ogres. Damned fullbloods..."

From where she stands several paces away, those of you who happen to be looking in Shalelu's direction see the elf grow pale, her fair skin blanching a pallid grey as she gazes at the man with an expression of mute horror.

Vale passes a hand over his eyes, his shaven brow furrowed and knitted with inner pain. For those of you who are close enough to hear the involuntary catch in his voice, Vale seems to tremble, retreating inward into himself. "Gods. I was just out with my patrol. Same old trail circuit. When we came back, the place was swarming with those bloated bigfolk bastards... Captain Gareth, his head swinging from the gate by his hair... We could hear the screaming from behind the walls - our people. Tried to storm the place, Kreegs routed us into the woods, Grauls hunted what was left of us down..."

All PCs to make a Perception check.

[Miraqariftsky]

"GRrrrrrhhrRRRMMMM." Rico rumbles from the area's perimeter. Her lip curls in a snarl, nostrils flaring, ears standing in outrage. "Sorry fer yer loss."

She doesn't say it aloud, out of respect, but has to struggle to keep herself from crowing,

Why ain't I friggin' surprised. BAH! Knnnnnnew it!
Damn that we're too late, though.

"United front, looks like." she says, glaring into the woods beyond. "On the warpath. Somebody's holding their leash, I warrant."

Hmmmmmm. Wouldn't be surprised neither iffen they've got some insider traitored them out.

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Perception, eh? +2 if this wood happens to be on a mountain or highland of some sort. +2 if we're dealing with Giants or Fiends.
(1d20+13)[30]<--- Are you friggin' kidding me? FIIIIIIIINE. thaaaaaaaaanks.

The orcblood constable's glare narrows, then she spits as the hairs on her nape prickle in a sudden wave of paranoia kicking in. "Vale. Can ye stand? Brin, cover 'im. Hellgirl, on point! Red, cover the right. Naya, git ready ta fry summin'."

"I seriously frakken hope I'm mistook an' y'all gunna laugh at me... but m'fraid... he was BAIT, an' we're the fish."

[Desril]

Setsuna

Hearing the man's words, Setsuna looks troubled and her gaze hardens somewhat, but as Rico starts to bark out orders she does as bid and moves to a forward position in case this is a trap. Keeping an eye out, "If the fort has been taken, we should take it back. We can handle ogres, and if it really has fallen then the people at Turtleback Ferry are defenseless."

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Perception 14 in OOC

Sorry, short post, not much to do here until the trap is sprung >.>

[jamieth]

Naya

"Besides... as long as there is at least some chance that someone could still be alive..." the sylph looks at the ranger, "Mr. Temros, we can't waste any time... if you could tell us about the Fort? Maybe there's some secret tunnels, or something - so we won't have to storm it directly... flying everyone over the walls will take too much power..." she starts calculating their options.

Spoiler: OOC

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Perception (1d20)[18], not that I can beat Rico's roll

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post / Red

"My patrol. We were fifteen. We knew the Fort, inside out. And we didn't stand no chance. What makes yer lot think yer can take it back?" At Setsuna and Naya's talk of taking back the Fort, Vale knuckles at his reddening eyes and sniffs aloud, though his face remains dry of tears. All the same, he seems to calm down at the idea of striking back, making a deliberate effort to still his body, breathing out slowly through his mouth in deep huffs.

"... Aye. If yer were to plan an assault... tell me more... I might be able to think of somewhat to get us in." Vale speaks deliberately, eyeing each of you with mild suspicion, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "But secret tunnels and such... only the leaders would know. They're all dead, now. 'cept for Captain Sovark. Poor man was still barely alive when I got dragged out here. But those wretched Grauls have like slit his throat by now, just like they did with the rest 'o us-"

"Sovark- Jakardos Sovark, do you mean?" Shalelu cuts the man off with a broad wave of her arm, momentarily forgetting her watch post as she strides over to where he lies prone. A curious urgency animates her every move, lighting up her solemn green eyes with some blazing inner fire.

Vale, momentarily stunned at being interrupted thus, blinks in confusion. "Why, yes. That's him, Jak Sovark... Yer know him, lady?"

Shalelu ignores the question and glances up sharply at the rest of you. "If this man is alive, then we must save him."

*****

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Red's Perception check: (1d20+12)[23] - passed

Only Red and Rico pass the Perception check

Cautiously fanning out from where the man lies, Red sniffs the air, letting most of what the man says pass over her head as she scans the forest around them.

So the rangers were all dead then. From bigfolk. That wasn't surprising. Shalelu had said as much. Red slips one of her kukris from her belt, wishing she knew exactly what she was looking for. Taking back the Fort sounded really difficult though. Weren't forts supposed to be really tough? Made of stone and defended, like little castles? And just how many ogres was this man - Vale, wasn't that a kind of plant thing? - talking about anyway?

Pricking up her ears at the sudden but faint yip of what sounded a lot like a wolf, Red looks over at Rico and sees from her friend's furrowed brow that it hadn't just been her imagination. "... We are being... hunted. Something comes... maybe the worg. We should go."

[Bhaakon]

Brin's expression turns increasingly dower as Vale speaks. She shouldn't have been terribly surprised about the fort's fall--such a threat was why they'd come, after all--but confirmation was still a punch in the gut. Taking the place back with just a handful would be...well, they'd faced long odds before. Maybe not quite so long, but if they managed to get surprise on their side and pick off the ogres a few at a time. The beasties were supposed to be stupid, after all. Also, big. Very big.

Well, Shalelu was correct. If the Grauls had a yet-living prisoner, that was a more manageable problem that had to be addressed soonest. And whether Red was right or not about the worg--or something else--stalking nearby, it made sense to move anyway.

"You can lead us to the Grauls, then?" Bring asks, though her tone is rather close to a statement. "Tell me if you can't walk and I'll see about fixing that. Red's right, we shouldn't just stand here waiting for the worg to come back. We should be moving to find your captain. Running, maybe."

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

"Yeh, I can walk. Point me to the river, I'll take yer to where those halfbloods been squatting." Spotting the cold fish cakes by Brin's side, Vale snatches up one and devours it with frightening speed, heedless of the flakes of fish flesh that speckle his chin and palms. "Worgs'll track us down quicker than a halfblood though. This be their neck of the woods. You got any way to lose their scent?"

[jamieth]

Naya

"Maybe the river itself?"[/b] sylph suggests, "flowing water loses scents, isn't it? And it's close enough that we'll lkely won't have to care about the worgs before we get there..."[/b]

[Desril]

Setsuna

Oblivious to whatever it was that Red and Rico seemed to have noticed in the air, the tiefling perhaps wasn't as on guard as she should've been, but was still watching for possible worg attack as she nods at Naya. "The river may be the fastest option, but the water here is not calm, it will not be safe unless every one is a strong swimmer," she says glancing toward the still injured man. She'd practiced swimming with Red before coming here and was more confident in her ability to stay afloat compared to when she'd first arrived in Sandpoint, but she couldn't speak for the others.

[Miraqariftsky]

"We are..." Rico begins, then snorts. "...but armour fraks that up."

She turns, already striding towards the river, but keeping her pace slow enough for Vale to be able to keep up.

"Speakin' o' frakkin' up..." she pauses, then tosses a couple of pouches to Naya. "...More chilli. Mess with their noses. If'n ye please, spread this all over. Throw 'em off our scent fer a while. An' could we also depend on ye ta smooth out our prints as we go, hmm?"

"Don't let's go TOO close ta the water. If they hits us there, they could slam us INTO the river, advantage ta them." Leaning against a tree, waiting a while for their garnish trap to be laid, she squints at Vale and asks, "Ya reckon ye can still fight? Wot's yer preferred arms? Would pike an' hatchet suffice ye?"

[jamieth]

Naya

"I caould do that, sure..." the sylph nods, "spread the chili, I mean. The prints, though - I'm not sure wind could do that easily... not here, in the forest. Back home, in Osirion, sure... not that sand holds prints in the first place... and yes, sorry. I don't consider it'll take actually getting into the river to remove our scent..."

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Vale blinks in surprise at being addressed by the towering half-orc, staring first at her mottled skin then at her oversized incisor teeth with unabashed suspicion. Nevertheless, it takes him a few seconds before he realises what he is doing and coughs hastily.

"Yeh, I can cut those buggers up good if yer let me. I'm an axe man. Pike'll get caught in the trees. Give me that one, first halfblood I see, I split his damn skull for my momma's gravestone." He staggers to his feet and takes a few tentative steps to test his legs, glancing at Naya as she sprinkles the leaf-littered earth around the pit trap with liberal scoops of the chilli powder from Rico's pouches. Standing upright, the peak of Vale's bald pate easily reaches Rico's chin - even with his recent starvation, he is a tall, strapping man. In his Black Arrow armour and with his muscles filled out, he would have cut a magnificent figure.

Vale reaches out a grimy hand for Rico's hatchet. "Come on, we'd best hurry. Yer kitchen spice won't slow them for long."

*****

Doubling back towards the river and down the dirt path you'd just climbed, Vale limps along as quickly as he can manage, making a good deal more noise than perhaps some of you are comfortable with as his feet scuff up stones and dried leaves. Already weakened from his presumably long confinement, he is soon panting so hard from the exertion that he wheezes in the cold air, goose-pimples raised on his flesh. While the more charitable (or worried) of your group might voice your concern, the man refuses all offers of help, insisting with a proud flash of the eyes that he can manage just fine, thank you.

"Ain't gonna wear no cloak but an Arrow one, now. And anyone helping me walk is one less pair of hands when we get into a scrap. Yer all just keep a lookout for those worgs or any bigfolk."

Shalelu seems satisfied enough with the change in direction, given that its purpose is to rescue the man whose name she'd found important. Leaping lightly from rock to rock as she brings up the rear of your group, with an occasional backward glance to check for pursuers, she nevertheless seems lost in her own thoughts, her brow furrowed as she retreats inward. In the end, it falls to Red to keep a more careful look out (difficult as it is at times for the tiny rogue to squint back uphill when there are large boulders and trees blocking her line of sight).

Near the wooden log bridge where you'd crossed the Skull River, Vale veers off the dirty path and into the woods. For those of you more experienced in the ways of the forest, you recognise that the man is following a poorly-maintained trail - patches of earth trodden bare, almost impossible to pick out from under the profusion of ferns and shrubs that manage to grow under the conifers.

"We'd no idea those bastards had even moved so close to the Ferry, see," he grunts, shifting Rico's hatchet to his other hand. "Our patrol trails take us up and 'round the forest, and we'd always figured that if any halfbloods or their sort came close to man-land, we'd have bodies turning up in no time at all. Turns out they were smart enough to hold their hooks off-"

At this point, Vale's explanation is cut short by a chorus of howls and barks from somewhere behind you. Scowling, Shalelu immediately plucks forth an arrow from her quiver and glances sharply at the man. "They'll be on us soon. How much further?"

"Few hundred paces, as the crow flies." Vale seems much less perturbed than the elf at the prospect of combat as he hefts the hatchet and nods imperceptibly to himself, feeling its weight in his callused palms.

Shalelu tosses her hair back with an impatient shake of the head, looking over at Rico and Setsuna. "If they catch us before we get to this ogrekin lair, we'll be trapped with hostiles on both sides. And it'll be their territory, on their terms. I say we greet this hunter fellow here and put an end to him and his dogs."

[Miraqariftsky]

A bushy brow rises,
Rico groans, then shrugs.
Takes a piece of driftwood
Of the sort with myriad little branches
As they make for the river, sweeps it behind them good
Brushing away tracks, to fool the eye
While the packs of spice, to the nose, shall lie

((Ach! Sleep's got me. Sorry I didn't get the latest IC. Will revise accordingly!))

[jamieth]

Naya

"If that's the case..." sylph asks, "Why did we ran in the first place? I mean, we could as well give fight at that clearing... would give us a few minutes to set an ambush, maybe set a trap of our own... less chance of them getting a reinforcement, as well... But, what's done is done; and I agree it's wiser not to let them get us in pincers. So... let's get ready for a fight, and show that ogre who's the prey here!"

[maggie_mcknife]

Red

"Miss Naya... Rico's s-spice... sweeping our tracks. It should have worked. But if it did not... then m-maybe that m-means... that what hunts us. They are cleverer... than us."

Or stronger. Or more numerous. Red quails inwardly at the thought, but holds the grim expression on her face, unwilling to let her misgivings show. Being scared wouldn't make the worgs any less awful to face. And if it was going to come to a fight...

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Red draws her kukris and nods towards the undergrowth by the trail.

"S-some of us s-should hide. Take out as m-many as we can... from the side. I am small. Worgs... t-they will... go for me first."