PrP: The Galena Lode - Part 1

The burnished gold of lit lanterns illuminates the damage resistant metal walls of the Adventurer's Guild. Tonight, as with most others, adventurers are toasting their successes and mourning their losses. All of it happens with great energy and enthusiasm. A table of burly soldiers laugh raucously at the discomfort of their junior man, whose plight is understandable. A squid looks up at him from the saucer. An entire squid. Even though it doesn't move, he seems more than a little reluctant to bow to the jeering of his companions. A duo of bards plink the strings of a pair of lutes, each dueling with the other and sending the occasional sour note into the others solo. For a coin, they'll lampoon the giver with an outrageous tale and they have no shortage of coin. There is meat and ale aplenty--adventurers often have more money than sense. All of the commotion can be heard from the hiring hall, though in no great detail. A row of boards are bolted to the wall from a few feet above the floor to a few feet above the ceiling. Upon those boards are jobs, requests, and pleas for assistance. These are seldom duplicated, and yet, each of you has an identical missive in your hand: I, Leacaeon Aldaren, rightful owner and operator of the Galena Lode mine, mill, and smelter, do hereby request the assistance of three or four willing adventurers in the trivial manner of a work stoppage at the mine. Inquire in person no latter than this date. That date is tomorrow at noon. Mel has done the Guild thing a few times, he's familiar with the process in broad terms, though he's certainly not familiar enough to spot subtlety or nuance. He has a paper, and he's come to inquire about work. He's here now, because if he gets here tomorrow at noon, it may be too late. He weaves his way in and around the revelry to try and find Leacaeon Aldaren. "Hello, has anyone seen .. er. Mister Aldaren?" he calls out. Jensine steps forward when Mel speaks, raising her hand. "I am also here to speak to Mister Alderaan. Alderan?" She's not sure how to pronounce it. Jonan arrives at twelve noon exactly. Having stabled his courser outside the guild the young armored Knight gives the interior of thoughtful look before giving both Mel and Jensine a thoughtful look. Without pronouncement he moves to stand amongst them. The calling for Mister Aldaren catches not only the attention of each of you, as the questioning isn't terribly subtle when it's broadcast to the parties in attendance, but it also catches the attention of one of the young servants. She holds a silvery lid atop a platter. Alarmingly, this seems to be a challenge for her as something inside that covered dish thrashes against the metal. "You are looking for Lord Aldaren?" she asks, looking at Mel and Jensine in turn. They're not so very far apart from each other. "You will be able to find him at his mine in the Redridge Mountains. It's only a few hours walk." She flashes a weak smile, and the dishes clatter. She manages to hold them together once again, but not before a flash of a scaly green tail makes its way between top and bottom. It makes even more noise when she clamps the metal bowl atop the tail so abruptly. Mel nods to Jensine and smiles warmly, relieved that he's at least not alone in this. "I'm not positive, either," he admits about the name. "Looks elvish or something, with all the vowels," he surmises. Mel is not a linguist by any stretch of the imagination. He nods as Jonan comes up, and he asks, "Are you Mister ..." and cuts off as the servant comes up. "Ah, I see," he answers. To Jensine and Jonan, he says, "I'm Mel, by the way, it's nice to meet you all. I guess we're meant to walk there?" He looks at the invitation. "No time like the present, I guess, I don't have anything I need to do. How about you two?" Jensine listens to the servant, nodding solemnly. "Then we shall seek him out there." That's a 'we', anyway. Turning to face Mel and Jonan more squarely, she adds, "My name is Jensine." She is, by the way, chewing on a little sprig of mint. The knight's blonde brow furrows slightly as the pair are re-directed towards the Redridge Mountains, "Then perhaps he should have summoned us there.." He remarks without anger in his voice but takes this time to look at both Mel and Jensine upon making himself known, "Jonan Constantine." The knight speaks as if he cannot suffer as a stranger for long in the presence of others and then gives a polite bow for both of them, "A pleasure." "My mount is stabled." He announces matter-of-factly, "If either of you prefer to ride I will secure a horse for you each.." Then, "..or a horse and cart if one of you is unaccustomed to horseback." He lingers only long enough to get their answer and then goes back out the door to make the arrangements. Mel errrs at riding, and admits, "I'm used to walking, to be honest. I could probably ride as long as you don't need me to go very fast? I don't know a lot about horses, I was with the infantry in the war." He thinks about this, aware that he's playing a different part now than the soldier he used to be. "I'll ride, though, if it's important?" Jensine exchanges a glance with Mel before looking back to Jonan. "I can ride but am also accustomed to walking. Providing us with horses would surely be expensive. I cannot ask that of you." <OOC> Jensine says, "I am casting Goodberry!" GAME: Jensine casts Goodberry. GAME: Jensine rolls 2d4: (6): 6 <OOC> Jensine says, "Six DELICIOUS BERRIES." <OOC> Ishmael says, "Noted. Thank you." Jonan nods to what Mel has said, "It is unimportant." He admits and then regards Jensine with a thoughtful expression. "The expense, too, is unimportant.." The man replies warmly, "..I will meet you out front shortly and ride no faster than you can walk." With that he exits. Mel shares a shrug with Jensine and to Jonan, he nods curtly. "On my way," he says, and he'll actually follow Jonan out. That way we don't get separated in the crowd. He travels light, it seems, so he's ready to go. Leaving Alexandria requires that the party pass through the Mountain Gate at the foot of the Airstation. The majestic and silent behemoths of airships drift overhead. Each is tethered to a spire as though it were a child's balloon and the afternoon sunlight shines upon their hulls. The ground has none of the peace that the airships possess. Men and women hurry about. Some are clad in ship uniforms and are clearly on their shore leave or returning to their ship. Others wear the heavy coveralls of stevedores and cargo handlers. They're the ones that must wrestle with the sledges brought by great stonebeasts to the gate. The busy port is the last place to buy any goods before leaving through the gate along Redridge Road. Barring any last minute purchases, the trio set out along the Redridge Road. Jensine is essentially ready to go; she doesn't make any stops on the way out of the city, anyway. Once on the road, she's a reasonably fast walker. Someone accustomed to walking, maybe. She tends to poke ahead, foraging as she goes. Mel has no plans to purchase anything, nor any particular skill for foraging. He'll try and keep up with the horse, but it's a hard pace, and he'll wind up slowing the party down unless you want him to arrive exhausted. You paged Whirlpool with 'No problem!' Jonan Constantine rides atop a heavy silver courser in dark quilted padding which has been stitched with a platinum dragon rising before a brilliant orange sunburst. A fine light-shield has been affixed to the saddle within easy reach. One mailed glove keeps a light grip on the reigns while the other grips a long lance which points upward with its base upon his boots. Though far from an experienced storyteller the young knight is charismatic for he laughs and speaks with the others as they make the journey. It quickly becomes clear that he is a Knight-Templar of Daeus but whatever rigid morality he may possess seems to be more of a personal conviction as he never chastises the others for any mischief they might present. The weather is pleasant and the path from Alexandria grades down in a gentle slope along the hard packed road. Stone dominates the way, but in some places heavy loads, stonebeasts, and the elements have shattered the stone to gravel and the gravel to dirt. Still, it is one of the better roads in the land and carefully maintained despite the wear. In the distance, the curving blue tower of Fate's Spire marks a waypoint along their path. Even an easy pace will see them there on time. <OOC> Ishmael says, "All right. If you're keeping an eye out, please make a perception check." <DM> The DC is 13 to notice the other party ahead of them in the road. GAME: Jonan rolls perception: (9)+1: 10 GAME: Jensine rolls perception: (8)+10: 18 GAME: Mel rolls perception: (19)+9: 28 You paged (Mel, Jensine) with 'While the occasional traveler has not been uncommon, ahead of you is a group of three that are standing in the middle of the road and having an argument.' You paged (Mel, Jensine) with 'If you want to say something or do something, please do so. If not, let me know.' To (Jensine, Ishmael), Mel pages: If we're close together, I'll say something quietly, otherwise, I'll hold a hand up or signal or something? You paged (Mel, Jensine) with 'If this were miniatures, you'd be touching squares in some fashion or another. You can talk quietly and not be overheard. Go ahead and pose it.' Mel is generally alert as he marches. Footsloggers have to be alert! He squints into the distance, and mumbles to the others, "A small group up ahead in the road." He squints again, shields his eyes. "Looks like they're having some sort of discussion. Maybe an arguement?" Jensine slows, falling back to join the others, nodding as Mel speaks. She murmurs, "It seems so. Hopefully not a serious one." Jonan's height upon the mount seems to do little more than place the sun directly in his eyes. For he squints, despite the emblem of the blazing sun upon his tavern, before the light and then nods to them as if trusting their assessment. "It would cost much time to navigate a path around them." Pause, "Whatever their business we have no quarrel with them unless they are brigands and - then - we would be better equipped to encounter them than the small-folk who frequent these roads." Just ahead, the small party will find another group standing in the middle of the path having an argument. Currently, a stout khazadi barbarian is engaged in an argument with a human woman in half plate. The polearm she carries isn't held in the at ease position. Instead she grips it until her knuckles turn white. The third fellow, a half-elf, seems amused by the argument. "I tell ye," the dwarf insists, pointing a square finger at the brunette in half plate. "We'll not be the only ones. If we do this your way there won't be half again enough to cover our tab." This earns an eye roll from the fellow and he turns his eyes to the woman. "So be it, Belrin. We've tried it your way before..." "Aye, and my way worked, dinnit?" Belrin shouts back. "Wait... who're them?" He points a dwarven waraxe at the approaching adventurers. The two groups seem to be the only ones armed and armored today. Mel nods agreement with Jonan's assessment, though he finds it a little strange to be doing so. "Way too far, if we wanted to get past them." A shrug about their business. "I suppose so, yeah," he agrees, though he's not sure he wants to just accost people. He will continue to walk forward, keeping up with Jonan on his horse as best he can. He'll call out to the group when we're spotted, "Helloooo, on the road. Explorers' Guild group from Alexandria here!" Jensine sticks her hand up in greeting. Her bow's in hand, but she doesn't have an arrow out to be nocked to it. The half-elf lets Mel go first. "Peace." Jonan guides his horse within a conversational distance of the party without readying his shield or lowering his lance, "Travelers, the same as you." The Knight-Templar remarks with a firm but friendly voice, "We journey to the Red Ridge on our own business.." His pale eyes drift to the woman who white-knuckles the polearm, "Easy, mi'lady." The young man says with care, "There is no ill-will here." Testing the waters and presenting an opportunity for their own confrontation to be explained without leveling direct accusation. "Oh... aye? Are you?" the dwarf inquires in a rough burr that plays at being innocent. This is absolutely impossible for him and it comes off as he'd meant it--mockingly. The arms and armor with the lack of a uniform might have been the clue. Also, it could have been the route from which they'd come. The surly dwarf cuts them absolutely no slack. "What ho!" says the fellow in the back. He's just dandy and nothing seems to bother him a whit. It's probably the only reason he can stand to be next to the feuding man and woman. "You don't happen to be traveling to the mines, by any chance??" He gives a disarming smile that is helped not in the least by the way the dwarf continues to point his axe at the adventurers. The young woman with the polearm stops gripping it quite so tightly at the Jonan's words. Perhaps she had yet to realize she was holding it so fiercely. <OOC> Mel says, "If I want to bluff about not being on the way to the mines, should I roll first and pose the results based on how well I roll, or pose vaguely then roll?" <OOC> Ishmael says, "Go ahead and roll. I'll roll their sense motive check as an opposed roll." GAME: Mel rolls bluff: (11)+7: 18 <DM> Fletch rolls Sense Motive at -1. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20-1: (19)+-1: 18 Mel shakes his head about being on the way to the mines, "Nono. Just on some business for the guild, further up the road." He smiles blithely. Playing dumb is another military tradition. Sarge isn't handing out prizes when he asks who knows how to skin a pig. "You know something about them, though?" he wonders, trying to seem innocently curious. Jensine blinks three times, peering at the other party. And their weaponry. She ventures a sidelong glance at Mel, curious, but at least she doesn't correct him or anything. Jonan looks to the churlish dwarf and nods courteously to the 'innocence' of the statement. Whether or not he even heard the dandy speak is unclear for when Mel moves forward to address the issue he never bothers to reply. Instead he remains fixated upon the dwarf in a way the others might miss. Without ever moving his head, or losing his composure, his eyes move from the dwarf, to the Khazad's axes, and then to his own lance and back without ever moving a muscle. He smiles with good nature, "Good journey to you all." Is all he says, "Shall we press on?" He asks his companions. Belrin takes the fixed gaze as a challenge and he bristles beneath his hoary black beard. Teeth, brown and round as pebbles form a rictus snarl that starts to leak out of the diminutive fighter. The woman stomps her glaive sharply upon the road. "Halt thy tongue, Belrin," the Valkyrie says in an imperious tone. The half-elf gives a pleased smile and opens his mouth to say something and she silences him as well. "And you too, Fletch." This causes a groan from the character in the back now that he realizes she has joined in the fun. To her discredit, she ignores him. "I am Larissa of the Glaive. These are my companions Belrin and Fletch. And while I may not agree with his attitude, Belrin's suspicions ring true. Are you indeed headed for the mines? We've a task at the Galena Lode." This is precisely your destination. <OOC> Jonan says, "Can I roll to identify 'of the glaive'?" <OOC> Mel says, "Oh, good point. Is this a Knowledge: Local thing?" <OOC> Ishmael says, "I think Knowledge: Local would probably fit best. Go ahead and roll it, DC 12." [RPThree] Ishmael says, "Zippo will be joining us in a bit, rounding out the party. He misread the time." GAME: Mel rolls knowledge/local: (19)+8: 27 You paged Mel with 'Larissa of the Glaive is an adventurer, much like yourselves. She's called that because of the Glaive she carries. She's reputed to be quite dangerous with it. Calling her a valkyrie is not at all out of character. She's haughty, but not violent by nature.' Mel is not sure if these three are brigands or adventurers, but they /do/ seem suspicious. And familiar. Maybe there were more notices handed out ... but ... if we want to get paid, maybe we'd better get there first. With this in mind, he puts off the question posed to him with a helpless shrug, bows his head to Jonan as one might to a knight or officer, replying with a crisp, "Yessir," and pointing up the road to the group we've met. "Your pardon, Valkyrie," he says with a bow to Larissa and her companions, "our own duty demands us, so we'll leave you to your business. We did not mean to interrupt." And he'll scoot off, hopefully without being stopped. Zippo has arrived. Jensine keeps her yap shut, following Mel at a stroll and nodding politely to each person as she approaches and hopefully passes them. Jonan pages: I am detect evil. Jonan pages: At Larissa. You paged Jonan with 'She does not register as evil (arrogance doesn't show up on Detect Evil), so she's clean!' "Well met, Larissa of the Glaive." Jonan replies kindly when she introduces herself, "I am Jonan Constantine, Knight-Templar of the Holy Order of the Sword." He lifts his chin a bit, "Sworn Sword of the True Metal." The Paladin states using the Khazad name for the Dragon Father. Jonan never looks to Mel though he silently weighs the fellow's use of the title 'Valkyrie' as he regards the woman following her introduction. He decides that were this to indicate that the party before them were virtuous his companion would not have bid them forward and after a long look at her he nods. "Good journey." He repeats as if actually meaning these words and then guides his courser between the other party and his companions. Setting off with them. As skeptical as the other party is, they aren't prepared to commit violence to stop the armed adventurers. The warrior astride a powerful horse and in shining silver armor likewise delays the possibility of a physical altercation. Belrin points his axe and Larissa is set to say something, but Fletch cuts them off as Mel, Jensine, and Jonan make their way by. "You haven't seen that tiny artificer have you? The one that looks like a clockwork toy?" Fletch's tone is so dry that seas drop to low tide in his very presence. The question sets Larissa of the Glaive and Belrin to looking about. It's in this state we leave this other party as our own ascends to the top of a small hill. It's also atop this small hill that a horrible clanking noise reaches their ears... "If you mean the ENGINEERING GENIUS who has been accompanying this sorry expedition..." That's the high pitched voice of Zippo ringing out. "... Then here he is, ready to save your hides and do some proper strikebreaking!" He marches forward with a yellow-toothed grin. "I'll be sticking with you lot the rest of the way. No objections, right? Right. Good. Let's get going!" Jensine raises her hand and gives Zippo a little wave. "Oh, hello again," she greets him. Apparently she has met him before. "Plippo, yes?" She tries. She really does. Mel breathes a bit easier once the other party is out of earshot. He gives it another couple dozen paces, before explaining quietly, "It seemed like they were on the same task as we are, and hadn't gotten there yet. I want to get paid for this, so I figured it was best if we kept going. I hope you're all OK with that?" At the top of the hill, we meet Zippo, and Mel looks puzzled. "Well, more backup for us, and let them wait for him until they give up," he says softly, though he glances worriedly at Zippo. "Uh, okay?" He looks relieved as Jensine seems to know him. "Zippo! With a zed." Zippo replies to Jensine, sharply correcting her. "And it seems like your crew would make a /far/ better group to travel with for me to field test my latest and greatest invetnions! Now, let us waste no more time! Onwards! To SCIENCE!" Jonan's polite masque breaks as they move beyond the other party and his smile is buried beneath the stern pursing of lips that makes him momentarily seem much older than he actually is and he looks at Mel who has already begun to explain.. The corner of his mouth quirks a bit as if pleasantly relieved by this revelation, "Until we know what we are up against it would be wise to not weigh ourselves down with an excess of personality." Pause, "Thank you." He replies thoughtfully and then looks to Jensine as if meaning her as well. Enter Zippo, the Paladin turns in his saddle to the rapid approach of a diminutive clockwork though he is no faster to ready his lance than he was against the previous party, "Then engineer us forward." He says lifting the lance and pointing it down the road, "Zippo." As if not willing to argue the matter. Jensine blinks at Jonan now, brown eyes holding a hint of puzzlement. "...My personality is not excessive." A pause. "Is it?" She looks to Mel for confirmation. Onward and upward. The encounter with Zippo's former party takes place at the nadir of the Redridge Road that stretches between Alexandria and the Redridge Mountains above. After a mere half an hour of walking, they pass the turnoff to a ferry off to the west. That would lead them across the Tornmawr and into the grassy lands in that fertile valley. The curved shape of Fate's Spire is beyond them, which means every foot they move forward is an ascent. Even for the athletic, calves ache from the ever upward climb. The sun is inching toward the horizon, but it's merely late afternoon and they'll be there in less than a couple of hours. Mel shakes his head at Jensine's question, having understood Jonan's intent, himself. "He means he didn't want to drag them in to the party," he says to her. "Dividing pay four ways," he's already assuming Zippo will be joining us, it seems, "rather than seven, is something I'm fine with." He trudges on, grunting as the road begins to climb. "Maybe horses would have been a good idea," he laments. "Oh," Jensine says, eyes widening with understanding. "I understand now. Thank you." She's very earnest. Very, very earnest. Jonan nods when Mel speaks, "You are welcome." He says to Jensine with a mild apology in his voice for having been misunderstood. However, with the matter settled he doesn't make a production out of it given the earnest tone in the woman's voice. "A good idea.." The Knight-Templar says with a chuckle, "Until we must tread into a mine. Then I have risked a warhorse for the convenience of the journey." The words are well intentioned though something about his demeanor makes it clear that a horse is simply that and if it were to save them hassle along the way its life would be worth it. He looks at the setting sun and unconciously increases their pace slightly. <OOC> Ishmael says, "As you get closer to the mines, you realize you have a moment with which you can take a break and still make it before nightfall. You can also push on, or you could make camp and arrive tomorrow. The deadline for arrival isn't until the next day, so you have options and you should discuss them among yourselves." "I say we press onwards! Zippo squeaks. "Those no-good slackers won't be expecting us to arrive earlier! Then we can really start cracking heads!" He is way too enthusiastic about this. Jensine digs another sprig of mint out of a belt pouch and tucks it between her lips to suck on. "I have no difficulties traveling by night," she says. So apparently she's not against the idea of pressing forward. Mel shrugs about mines and leaving the horse behind. He's not super familiar, but he wonders, "Don't they have mules pulling mine carts? Or artifice engines, I guess, but they can't be smaller than a mule, I'd think?" Based on no knowledge whatsoever. "If that's so, there'll be a way to get a horse inside. Though I don't envy you trying to maneuver it around." He rubs his leg with a knuckle as the going gets longer and longer, but nods at what Zippo says. "If we pause, those others might get there ahead of us," he points out. "So I'm good to press onwards. I've got an everburning torch in my pack," he adds. "I'm not sure." The Knight-Templar admits but seems to think on that point, "I am more familiar with lost catacombs than active mines." Then, "You may be right." When the others talk of pressing on he simply nods without objection. <OOC> Ishmael says, "Perception checks once again, everyone." <DM> Perception check DC is 15 to notice the three escaped miners. GAME: Mel rolls perception: (16)+9: 25 GAME: Zippo rolls perception: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Jonan rolls perception: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Jensine rolls perception: (19)+10: 29 You paged Jonan with 'You notice nothing unusual ;)' Jonan pages: Blinded by the glory of Daeus, as usual. You paged Zippo with 'It's getting dark outside, but you don't notice anything unusual. There's still about an hour of sunlight remaining.' You paged (Jensine, Mel) with 'You both will notice that there is a small ring of stones with ashes near a fallen plinth of stone. There's no smoke that you can see, but you're sure the fire wasn't burning terribly long ago. Let me pose and you two can react to this.' With less than an hour until the brilliant orange globe of the sun sinks beneath the far horizon, the clouds of the sky take on a myriad of rainbow colors ranging from pinks and yellows to shady blues in the distance. The path takes a jog here, surmounting a twenty foot fault in the path by jogging to the side in a switchback. One leg descends ten feet, the next the remaining ten feet which puts our heroes at the base of a twenty foot cliff. The final landing makes an easy camp, and a spring of water weeps from the rock and runs along the uneven surface to a natural stone basin about six inches deep. In the distance is a mining camp with high stone walls and flickering lights already illuminating portions of the yard. "There it is!" Zippo hisses enthusiastically. "Now, where are those shiftless layabouts? We'll teach them the price of sloth!" Jensine slows, eyes narrowing as she steps down onto the final landing. "Possibly quite near," she murmurs in response to Zippo, pointing to indicate a small ring of stones with ashes near a fallen plinth of stone. Mel looks at the campsite and sighs softly. "It looks so inviting. And someone's been here recently. Maybe our friends? Though they seemed to be heading the wrong way, if they were?" That's a puzzler. "But that looks like the mine over there. And I'd rather sleep in a camp than out in the wilds. No offense," he adds quickly to Jensine. "But I've done enough sleeping in the field to last a lifetime." As the light dims, he roots around in his pack for a torch, pulling a cloth off the cover, and behold, an Everburning Torch burns with cool light. Mel is a man of means! He also pulls out a cloak and wraps it around him. He sort of fades a little in the dusk. The shod hooves of the great courser echo in muffled thuds that sound off the stonework which as been drug clear by the great Khazadi Stonebeasts. The knight remains high in his saddle and, other than the initial survey of the road ahead, has scarcely given their path a look as his attention moves across the yard to the flickering lights ahead. "Hrm?" His concentration is broken as Jensine points to the small ring of stones and ashes, "Ah.." Jonan then nods and smiles when Mel speaks of preferring that they make camp ahead, "I second that." The blonde haired templar does not seem the sort who prefers the open sky to a proper camp. "Then let us advance to the one semblance of civilization in this blighted, technology-bereft land!" Zippo declares. "We won't go back!" cries a hoarse male voice. The sound seems to come from everywhere due to the nature of the stone in this alcove. The path continues on, but this hewed camp is surrounded on two and a half sides so the sound reverberates. A second voice and then a third join the first. Neither the second nor third man form words. Instead, they run around the corner of the switchback, alerted to the conversation and clopping of hooves on stone. These poor men seem to be barely alive. Shaggy hair hangs in greasy tufts from each of their heads and they're stained shades of black and gray along the entire length of their nearly nude bodies. Tatters of clothing cling to their emaciated frames. It's the eyes, though, that capture the most attention; they're bloodshot and glassy. Each one of these men are completely mad, and each one of these men carry a serrated knife. <OOC> Ishmael says, "This is a good time for init!" GAME: Zippo rolls initiative: Roll: 6 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 10 GAME: Jensine rolls init: (12)+3: 15 GAME: Mel rolls initiative: Roll: 14 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 17 GAME: Jonan rolls initiative: Roll: 15 + Bonus: 2 = Total: 17 GAME: You roll initiative for Albert: Roll: 8 + Bonus: -1 = Total: 7 GAME: You roll initiative for Basil: Roll: 17 + Bonus: -1 = Total: 16 GAME: You roll initiative for Chooge: Roll: 6 + Bonus: -1 = Total: 5 You paged Jensine with 'You're not showing up on the +tinit. Did you roll +init or +roll init?' Jensine pages: +roll init. Ugh. I'll try again. GAME: Jensine rolls initiative: Roll: 14 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 17 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Jensine did a +roll init instead of +init, so she's on the +tinit now." ===== Current Initiative Order ========= ---------------------------------------- 17 Jensine ---------------------------------------- 17 Mel ---------------------------------------- 17 Jonan ---------------------------------------- 16 Basil ---------------------------------------- 10 Zippo ---------------------------------------- 7 Albert ---------------------------------------- 5 Chooge ---------------------------------------- ======================================== <DM> Jensine delays, but takes speech as a free action. Jensine's quick hand reaches for an arrow from her quiver and sets it to the bow, which she raises as she draws. "Hold. We have no wish to do you harm," the half-elf calls to the men. Maybe she has no wish, anyway. GAME: Mel rolls 1d20+6: (2)+6: 8 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Mel, who were you charging? Then pose it. You don't connect." <OOC> Mel says, "Whoever was closer." <OOC> Ishmael says, "Albert then. Really they're all grouped together, but A comes first." Jensine pages: I would like to roll a thing to remember lead makes people craycray. You paged Jensine with 'Heal, DC 15.' GAME: Jensine rolls heal: (17)+8: 25 You paged Jensine with 'Mine madness. Especially common in lead, silver, and copper mines.' Mel has learned more than a few things in his life, and one of them is to throw the first punch. If you can take someone down before they can cause trouble, that's trouble they won't be causing. "Crazy people with knives don't chat well," he grumbles. "Crazy people tied up and disarmed, I'm all right with." And so he rushes in to attack, trying for a pre-emptive strike to end things early. Unfortunately, it's dark and he needs to put down the torch to get out his shield, and he gets his plans tied up as his feet move faster than his brain, so that he's moved up to the enemy, and he totally fails to throw a convincing punch. "Oh, hi there?" <OOC> Jonan says, "In a brilliant display I'm urging the horse forward a bit. Raising my shield and bellowing for peace. Diplomatically." <OOC> Ishmael says, "Diplomacy and not intimidation?" <OOC> Jonan says, "Yes. I am not threatening them." <OOC> Ishmael says, "Since they are decidedly unfriendly, it is 20+0 (they have no charisma modifier) for the DC." GAME: Jonan rolls diplomacy: (20)+10: 30 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Good lord man." <OOC> Ishmael says, "Diplomacy is generally not useful in combat but a 20? Pose it and I'll react. We may not be out of combat, but it's worth playing this part out." The madmen charge forward. "Peace, Peace..!" The Knight's firm voice echoes across the yawning chasm slicing asunder their madness as his Higborn ancestor, the Arch-Angel Talmoni, might have in the age before ages. "In the name of the Sun Lord cease your hostilities!" He hoists his high the mirrored light-shield bearing the emblem of the rising dragon in the fading light, "..be liberated in the /light of law/ and stand behind us as free men. We bring with us food and succor." The show of bravery and diplomacy from the knight stuns the three madmen for a moment. The mirrored shield casts the dying rays of the sun at them, shining across the ground with the might of the Sun Lord himself. They stumble in their bare feet and look around, at Sir Knight and at the others. Clarity fails to make it to their eyes though. "You do not come from the mines?" the first, Albert inquires. "You fool!" hisses Basil. "Of course they come from the mines! Come to take us all back and make us work and the spiders, the spiders!" This sets the men to wailing again. The keening sound and gnashing of teeth eventually turns back to the frustrated and murderous cries. A maddened mind cannot find peace for long. <DM> Basil attacks Mel with a dagger. +3 BAB, -1 STR. Mel has -2 AC due to charge. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3-1: (6)+3+-1: 8 <OOC> Jensine says, "Jensine will shoot once Basil's tried stabbery! Wherever that can be fitted in." GAME: jensine's inititave total changed to '9'. ===== Current Initiative Order ========= ---------------------------------------- 17 Mel ---------------------------------------- 17 Jonan ---------------------------------------- 16 Basil ---------------------------------------- 10 Zippo ---------------------------------------- 9 Jensine ---------------------------------------- 7 Albert ---------------------------------------- 5 Chooge ---------------------------------------- ======================================== <OOC> Zippo says, "How far away are they?" <OOC> Ishmael says, "They're 25' away currently. Mel is standing in front of one of them, giving Albert partial cover." Basil growls like a feral dog and then barks with an insane vigor as he slashes the wickedly serrated knife at the charging Mel. The knife whistles uselessly. <OOC> Ishmael says, "Are you shooting Basil or Chooge?" <OOC> Zippo says, "Basil." GAME: Zippo rolls ranged + 2: (11)+6+2: 19 GAME: Zippo rolls 1d6+5: (1)+5: 6 <OOC> Zippo says, "That's all cold damage. Also, he has to make a DC 16 fort save or be staggered for one round." <OOC> Jensine says, "Pew pew Basil!" GAME: Jensine rolls 1d20+5: (11)+5: 16 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Jensine, you also hit." GAME: Jensine rolls 1d8+2: (3)+2: 5 <DC> Fortitude save (DC 16) for Basil GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3: (15)+3: 18 "Enough talk! It's time for a technological solution!" Zippo raises his fist towards Basil, and a light begins to glow on one of the doodads attached to his gauntlet. A beam of icy white energy fires forth, slamming into him. Basil strikes, and just like that Jensine sends her arrow twipping into the madman's chest. "These men are afflicted with mine madness," she informs the others. "It occurs in those who work with lead, silver, and copper mines. They are likely to be violent. They cannot be cured as far as I know." Her lips press into a line with those last words. <DM> Albert attacks Mel with a dagger. +3 BAB, -1 STR. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3-1: (7)+3+-1: 9 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Not enough. He'll also take a five food step toward Mel's side, trying to flank him." <DM> Chooge charges Zippo with a dagger. +3 BAB, -1 STR, +2 Charge. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3-1+2: (17)+3+-1+2: 21 GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d4-1: (2)+-1: 1 GAME: Ishmael damaged Zippo for 1 points. 17 remaining. Albert slashes at Mel with the dagger, missing horribly. There's animal cunning to his plan, though, as the slash takes him a few steps to Mel's right. Chooge lets out a mighty shout and charges the tiny mechanical man with his knife. The dagger chips into the armor in a satisfying fashion... he grins evilly, unaware of how little it did. <OOC> Mel says, "5' step to avoid flanking, draw sword, stab." GAME: Mel rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25 GAME: Mel rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Critical hit!" GAME: Mel rolls 2d6+4: (10)+4: 14 <OOC> Jonan says, "Can I charge into combat with Mel and brain Basil with a blunt section of my shield?" <OOC> Ishmael says, "So a riding shield bash?" <OOC> Jonan says, "Yes. Riding-Charging shield bash." Mel finds himself alone in the middle of a melee whether he wants it or not, and he growls at Jonan, "Get your iron backside into this fight, you ponce!" He skips aside from one slash and hauls out his shortsword at Jensine's comment. "I tried going easy on you fellows," he asserts, assuming a clumsy on guard position with the blade. He shuffles to the side so they'll have a harder time surrounding him, and catches a bit of good luck when his dodging and weaving somehow distract these crazed fellows, and like lightning, he steps into an opening and thrusts his blade at Albert, scoring a wound, though his stroke isn't able to drive home and fell the crazed miner. <OOC> Ishmael says, "Yes you can. I'm adding it up. DC 5 ride check for the combat maneuver. Shield is an offhand light weapon that doesn't add its armor bonus for the to hit (though some magical bonuses may apply). And you lose the AC bonus for this round. What kind of shield is it?" <OOC> Jonan says, "It's a Light shield. So only 1 AC." GAME: Jonan rolls ride: (15)+2: 17 <OOC> Jonan says, "Do I still take the offhand penalty if I'm using it as a single (primary) attack?" <OOC> Ishmael says, "You do, from what I can tell. Though you do get your charge bonus." GAME: Jonan rolls melee+2-2: (9)+5+2+-2: 14 <OOC> Ishmael says, "That's enough. Damage is 1d3 plus half of your strength bonus." GAME: Jonan rolls 1d3+1: (1)+1: 2 "Let them pass." Jonan urges while still pointing his lance towards the sky, "Do not bar them any further." The knight's polite demeanor has faded for his conviction and yet he is unwilling to stand still as those whom he has named as allies fight against madmen. The Paladin lowers his shield and grabs his reigns while spurring the courser forward. Hooves shred the soft-packed stone and its first step as it moving in place before it leaps forward at a gallop. He thunders into the center of the madmen to disrupt their attacks upon Mel whilst dropping his grip upon the reigns midway to them and shifting to a low position. Lance still held with its tip towards the heavens he extends his forearm bringing the blunt section of his shield hard at Basil, whom had disrupted his cry for peace, "Fly, you fools.." He orders them with authority, "..before your spiders return." <DM> Basil attacks Jonan's horse with a dagger. +3 BAB, -1 STR vs AC 13 (-2 AC for charging) GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3-1: (9)+3+-1: 11 Basil is battered about by Jonan's shield charge, and though he doesn't seem terribly hurt he is greatly offended. He howls and slashes blindly at the horse. Luckily the attacks are too wild or the horse canters a step to the side, because it is not injured by the flurry. <DM> Cinematic mode engaged! Due to time crunch, damage values are doubled to half the time needed to finish the scene. GAME: Zippo rolls ranged + 2: (6)+6+2: 14 GAME: Zippo rolls 1d6+5: (1)+5: 6 <DM> Fortitude save (DC 16) for Chooge. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3: (4)+3: 7 <OOC> Zippo says, "Chooge is staggered for one round." "Close quarters combat! Calibrating anti-striker defensive array!" Zippo leaps back and fires off another ray of piercing white light into his attacker. <OOC> Jensine says, "Pew pew arrows." GAME: Jensine rolls 1d20+5: (7)+5: 12 <OOC> Jensine says, "EAT IT BASIL. Unless that doesn't hit." GAME: Jensine rolls 1d8+3: (2)+3: 5 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Albert will five foot step to engage Mel and attack him with a dagger. Chooge is staggered and cannot move, but he can attack Jensine who is basically standing next to him." <DM> Albert attacks Mel with a dagger. +3 BAB, -1 STR. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3-1: (17)+3+-1: 19 GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d4-1: (1)+-1: 0 <DM> Chooge attacks Jensine with a dagger. +3 BAB, -1 STR. GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3-1: (17)+3+-1: 19 GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d4-1: (4)+-1: 3 GAME: Ishmael damaged Mel for 2 points. 23 remaining. GAME: Ishmael damaged Jensine for 6 points. 12 remaining. This is all very loud. There is shouting and yelling, and Jensine finds that a little odd. But she sets another arrow to her bowstring and sends it singing into Basil's rag-clad, battered body. Unfortunately, Chooge has managed to creep up by her. <OOC> Mel says, "Can I flank with Jonan?" <OOC> Ishmael says, "You can flank Basil, who is trying to carve horse filets. Albert isn't in flanking with Basil, but you can't get him between the two of you either." <OOC> Mel says, "Roger, flanking then." GAME: Mel rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Mel rolls 1d6+2+2d6: (5)+2+(6): 13 <OOC> Ishmael says, "He's deep into dying. Be as cinematic as you like with the pose." <OOC> Jonan says, "I'll lance Albert." <OOC> Ishmael says, "He's barely 10 feet away, but that is enough to charge (I'm reasonably certain change facing doesn't require anything in pathfinder. it's not THAt pedantic about movement)" GAME: Jonan rolls melee+2: (13)+5+2: 20 GAME: Jonan rolls 2d8+6: (11)+6: 17 <OOC> Ishmael says, "Albert is basically dead. You too can be as cinematic as you like with your pose." Mel watches slackjawed as Jonan slams the fellow with the shield. "That's not how you fight on a battlefield, is it?" he demands critically, catching a scratch as he shifts positions with a slick move. Only a couple steps, but a pivot as well, so he's caught Basil between himself and the mounted knight. This it the classic Rock and a Hard Place scenario, but Basil isn't getting a chance to appreciate it because Mel runs his sword through the fellow's chest from behind without any mercy whatsoever, yanking it out and leaving the fellow gurgling on the ground. <OOC> Ishmael says, "Zippo, Chooge is in your sights. As Jensine cannot threaten an AoO with a bow, you do not get a flanking bonus." A warning. A nearly non-lethal attack. The madmen persist in their assault and the Templar must do as he has sworn to do: Stem the loss of life. If three madmen must die so that goodness may save the rest than so be it. Silver lance point drops downward for the first time since he left the city. A trample of hooves. Did Albert hear even that? "HUAGH!" A lance point and two feet of wooden haft burst through the center of the man's chest wrenching his body gruesomely from its feet as the thundering courser continues past and further down the decline towards the camp. It's a clean kill. A twist of the weapon splinters the ribs and sternum allowing the knight to wrench the thing free with a firm shake. He pulls the reigns hard and the steed comes back around. The lance drops. Chooge is next. <OOC> Zippo will fire at Chooge again! GAME: Zippo rolls ranged + 2: (15)+6+2: 23 GAME: Zippo rolls 1d6+5: (4)+5: 9 <DM> Fortitude save (DC 16) for Chooge GAME: Ishmael rolls 1d20+3: (17)+3: 20 "... This is the part where you fall down. For science!" Zippo shouts before firing another volley of deadly frost into his target. <OOC> Ishmael says, "Jensine, Chooge is at 0 HP and disabled. He can take actions, he can move at half speed, and he's tried to attack you. What will you do? (This is the last round of combat, if you decide to kill him or let him go it'll take us out.)" Chooge is barely hanging on. Jensine turns to find herself next to him, and, taking in his glazed eyes and battered state, she nonetheless frowns as she pulls forth another arrow and sets it to her bow. The arrow lances between Chooge's eyes, inevitable, unstoppable, and sails clean through. Jensine then pushes the dead man over with an odd gentleness. She did not enjoy that. There is the barest curl of the Paladin's lips when Jensine kills the disabled man. However, he says nothing of it and merely raises his lance point back towards the heavens. His first words are, "Is everyone alright?" In the heat of battle it is difficult to keep track of such things but he looks from person to person as if appraising their situation. He looks upon Mel last and then glances towards the bloody tip of his spear and then back, "That was not for you." He remarks tersely but then gives a faint smile, "Well fought." Pause, "All of you." "Another victory for SCIENCE!" Zippo declares excitedly. "Field test, successful!" "He could not be cured," Jensine murmurs, swabbing the gore from her face with her sleeve. Morose. That taken care of, she bobs her head and fusses about until she finds the berries she picked along the way, a sextet of particularly juicy speciments she pops into her mouth one by one. <OOC> Ishmael says, "Are you eating them all?" GAME: Ishmael damaged Jensine for -6 points. 18 remaining. <OOC> Jensine says, "ALL THE BERRIES THAT ARE GOOD" Mel finds himself looking up Jonan's lance for just a moment, and looks worried, then relaxes as it's pulled away. "Ah, I'm all right. You had me worried there, for a minute." He looks around at the others, "Are we all OK?" He looks at the dead guys, a little relieved at Jensine's assertion that they couldn't be helped. Not that he was trying very hard after the beginning, but ... "Did they have some kind of magic disease?" he wonders. "I think we have an idea now of what's wrong at the mine, though." Dealing with the three corpses is a gruesome task, just as dealing with the three living madmen is. The fight, if it can be called that, took less than a minute and took more than three men's lives. Their souls, if Jensine is right about the Mine Madness being incurable, were lost long ago. Little pieces of the party died tonight as well. Whether practical or religious, the bodies have to be removed from the road and put in some sort of repose. Doing so reveals nothing but the serrate daggers they carried, which in reality were nothing more than knives stolen from a kitchen, and a cluster of small bones. Finger bones. With teeth marks upon them. Dull, humanoid teeth marks.