Pathfinder - The Crusade part 6

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5  / Part 7

To face this mysterious sky lizard, we kept a team scrying its lair in order that we would know when it returned. When the mage on duty ran away screaming, Mr Tiddles teleported us into the cavern entrance. When we came back some time later, the horde of treasure was with us and took several days to catalogue. If you want to know more about the fight, you’ll need to find someone who’s heard Alexei’s Ode to the Battle. That shouldn’t be too hard… 

***

The corrupted gold dragon had spotted the scrying sensor and breathed acid upon us as we arrived. I threw down the adamantine fortress of being a small cube most of the time that Alexei had made Svetlana for the two of them to hide in whilst the others started laying into the beast. Husbit summoned an ice devil to assist us, as Alexei had learnt this creature was vulnerable to cold. I managed to hit it once with the crossbow and on my 2D10 of damage rolled… 2.* The dragon summoned a meteor to take out the fortress, as it was right in the entrance to prevent the beast escaping. It was utterly destroyed, but saved the lives of Svetlana and Alexei trembling inside. Husbit jumped to the Ethereal plane and hid in the rocks after I’d made use of Alexei’s cloak of shadows to shadowstep further into the cave.

Despite taking massive amounts of damage and being very, very grateful for Alexei’s ranged healing (courtesy of the mythic hierophant ability ‘faith’s reach’) and Kieran’s ‘heal mount’ (without which we would be one griffin down), we prevailed. As Kieran swung his bastard sword round to deliver the killing blow, he and Svetlana (and possibly Aaron) saw it lean its head in towards the blade, as though it wanted to die. The head flew off to land at Svetlana’s feet… and we suddenly were back in Drezen surrounded by treasure. The fight had lasted maybe 30 seconds but a day had passed.

Alexei quickly explained that we must never speak of the creature to anyone in Golarion. It was a member of a race that had lived here previously but had become too powerful so various deities had banished them. This one had either managed to avoid that or had managed to find its way back, becoming corrupted along the way. But the deities had removed all record of these beasts from the minds of mankind and if we were ever to speak of it then they would similarly remove us from history. It would be ok to speak of the creature in general terms – as per Alexei’s Ode (this being Husbit’s fourth natural 20 on a perform/craft check to produce artwork when he doesn’t have skills but insane charisma) – but we must never describe it. The only reason we remember it is because Alexei/Husbit didn’t think we’d want our heads messed with more than they already were, with the being taken out of time whilst Alexei and his patron dealt with the aftermath before returning us to Drezen. And that’s why this is being told OC – don’t want to risk losing my lovely Svetlana!

***

Alexei’s Ode is very popular and, after that poem he wrote at my wedding and the painting he did of Natalya, he’s finally been caught by a fan-boy who wants to be his apprentice, Graycen Silversong. And every time I think of my wedding and my husband and my motherand my friends outside the Worldwound, homesickness threatens to overwhelm me. Noleski chats to me often, keeping me up to date with the news from Brevoy, but it’s not the same as being there with him and I can’t speak to Mum or any of the others.

But back to the task at hand. Whilst the treasure was being sorted and prepared for transport back to Brevoy and the Dawnlands, Alexei rested to recover from his part in the battle, dealt with Mr Silversong and then started scrying for the succubus Arueshalae. He found her sitting in the bell tower of a church in the ruins of a castle with demons starting to surround it – she looked up, seeing the small sensor, and Alexei introduced himself to her. She quickly gave some landmarks to help us find her, roughly 3 days’ march away. We hopped onto Brutus and were there in a couple of hours to deal with the hag and small group it led trying to reach Arueshalae. She was, at least, protected by the bell tower, an artefact extending a field the demons could not enter. As we approached the tower, she came running out armed with a bow to assist us in dispersing them – surprised and pleased we’d already finished the job. She was also pleased to hear the Sword of Valour had been restored and Drezen was safe once more.

Her greatest concern was these nahyndrian crystals that were mentioned in Staunton Vhane’s journal – the ones that gave him his power and created the monstrosity we fought on the bridge. She knew they were mined and refined at various places in the Worldwound, but didn’t know where. Her best lead was the Ivory Labyrinth… but she didn’t know where that was, either. What she did know, however, was the location of an outpost run by Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth and she could lead us there. En route, Alexei quizzed her about someone named ‘Jerribeth’. Arueshalae explained Jerribeth was a Glabrizu demon, second in command and given the ability to shape-shift by Baphomet – a dangerous individual.

The outpost was a shrine cut into the side of a cliff. Statues stood guard at the entrance, and many more inside. The first room had at its head a statue of the demon lord Baphomet; the surrounding statues had been corrupted from those celebrating Abadar. Kieran winced as he entered, quickly casting a hallow effect that caused the goat-headed statue to crumble. The feeling of oppression lifted and we continued in.

As Evander (who has been acting more and more erratically of late) entered, noisy in his armour, a group of six Templars ran through the door that had been obscured by the statue. Alexei summoned his deepest voice and thundered at them to surrender or die: two turned to flee the room but were prevented from leaving by a third. The other three charged towards Alexei, to be tripped by Evander and his flail. Four of the Templars were killed in the short skirmish that followed – Evander abandoning his flail and short sword to beat one to death with his fists. The remaining two were unhelpful as the others tried to question them, so I let my curiosity get the better of me and snuck away through the door.

I followed the corridor along through the mountain until I reached a room furnished with a bed and a writing desk – and occupied by a woman and her beastie. She fired her crossbow at me – a small bolt in my shoulder, just enough to hurt rather than cause any real injury so I approached, rapier drawn, to fight off the beast. A pit opened beneath – magic, I suspect, rather than a trap – and in I tumbled, feather fall protecting me from harm. She took pot shots at me as I used spiders’ climb to get me out of there. To be honest, we were pretty evenly matched – neither able to do much damage. She summoned a shield of spinning knives around her, so I focused on her pet eidelon and eventually she managed to paralyse me with hold person and teleport away – just as the others realised I was missing and came to rescue me. Ah well. In her writing desk were papers from which we were pretty sure we could locate the Ivory Labyrinth itself, and off we went.

An illusory wall by the Green Gate – to the east of the Marshland and the west of the road. Actually fairly easy to find once you have a few clues and know the former extent of the forest known as the Green Gate. A small group of basilisks lazed by the entrance, but Keiran befriended one and gently guided the others out of our path. Bernadette, as he named his new friend, helped us when we reached the gate by petrifying one of the minotaurs standing guard on the other side of the portcullis – he left her eating its remains once we had dispatched the rest and were inside the courtyard ourselves.

We went inside the ‘labyrinth’, slightly apprehensive with our awareness that only Baphomet had previously escaped its confines. Skulking around the ground floor, I accidentally woke two minotaurs. As they stood and prepared to charge us, Alexei apologised and closed the door… that they promptly charged through, making them easy pickings and allowing us to liberate a few more items rendered ownerless before continuing round to another room, furnished with a writing desk and an enormous bed. A huge elven woman with long, green hair lounged there beside the corpse of a Templar. From the tang of blood in the air, he hadn’t been dead long. This was Jerribeth. She shifted into her true form – scaled, with extra arms – but it wasn’t enough to save her from a paladin’s wrath.

*To be honest, it was a bit of a night of rolling 1’s: we’ve just hit mythic tier 6, unlocking ‘force of will’ which enables us to use a mythic chip to re-roll a D20. Most of my mythic chips went on that, and I still ended up with critical failures.

BRUISES! (or, Hurray for Circus!)

Have had a really good circus class this afternoon. It’s something I love – I’m not particularly athletic or sporty but as an exercise this really seems to suit me (and the other people are lovely).

It suits me because I’m naturally quite flexible, so I was better at it initially than I expected, which in turn made me feel good and made me want to keep going. I’ve been amazed how quickly my strength and muscle tone has improved as well: it’s a fantastic exercise.

But you do bruise. In my first session, the lady taking the class warned us and also said we’d one day stop bruising and be disappointed and miss the bruises. I think I know what she means: every new bruise is very exciting to me! I get home and check for new bruises, showing them off to my much less impressed Husbit. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t like to see me bruised, but sometimes I wish he would get excited with me: these bruises are hard-earned and awesome!

Today's session was exciting because I'd learned a new move the other day that I could just do and I was pretty sure I'd worked it out and would be able to do it properly this time - and I was right. I unfortunately don't have a picture of that (I also still haven't figured out how to upload the video). I'll get some more photos for y'all soon, so I can actually explain the things that excite me (other than the bruises...)

There should be another Pathfinder update shortly. We got quite a lot done in last night's session.

Pathfinder - The Crusade part 5

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6

The first week after restoring the Sword of Valour was spent primarily sorting out supplies – finding what was useful and distributing it as necessary. The fighters – Kieran in particular – helped clear out the remaining demons but most of my work was stocktaking. So the second week, I helped Aenivia with scouting the surrounding areas and spent time trying to get to know the advisors and leaders Queen Galfrey had sent.

After the fortnight had passed, Irabeth told us that a priest of Erastil had disappeared, right after finally completing the shrine he had been working on. A bit of investigating revealed that Jeska had taken the various set-backs to consecrating the shrine in his stride and seemed generally well-liked. A bit more digging, however, revealed that there was a darker side to the priest since he had come to town: female parishioners reluctantly spoke of the ways he had flirted with them – charming and flattering at the time, but creepy afterwards. His behaviour in other ways wasn’t entirely what one would expect from a cleric of Erastil and it seemed he had taken a great interest in the ways the ancient people who’d lived here had worshiped my god; an unhealthy interest, perhaps. The shrine had been desecrated. A book of heretical worship – that towns should have no more than 53 residents, that the 54^th would always be a traitor – was annotated that he wished to find more works by the author* in her burial place to the south.

We warned Irabeth where we would be going and that Jeska had gone bad. I hope Noleski would be pleased I’m remembering not to just run off but to let people know when I might be in danger. And even as I think it I miss him with a pang… it’s more or less months, now, that we’ve been married, and nearly as long since I’ve seen him. But I can’t think of that now: there’s work to be done.

As well as seeking Jeska, Irabeth asks that we keep an eye out for the bandits that are attacking caravans, and a mysterious flying beast – larger even than Brutus in his doubly-enlarged form – that has similarly but independently taken out supplies. This strange beast has only been seen from a distance: no one who has seen it up close has survived.

Brutus carried us southwards. As we travel, we’re keeping eyes open for anything that could be the secret church of Desnae where, rumour has it, the heretical succubus Aurashalé may be hiding. Aenivia has similarly had no luck thus far, but finding her seems important so we keep trying. We didn’t see any sign on this particular trip, but it didn’t take too long to locate the likely site of the tomb: a river of lava, complete with ‘lavafalls’ and a lake beneath with three islands. Further south, we could see a forest with pillars of smoke that we took note of for later investigation.

One of the shores had bright blue gems that arced power across to scorch another of the islands. Three vrock – bird-like demons – appeared to be preparing a ritual so we thought we’d better stop them. Between the ballista on Brutus’s back, Alexei’s spells and my crossbow, it didn’t take long to send them back to the hell from which they came. The gems were an interesting and shiny mixture of colours and varieties not normally seen together – uncut, but still worth something of a fortune (hmmm… not just ‘something of’ but truthfully a real fortune. I think I’m getting too used to wealth). Having foraged the gems, we turned back to the lavafall and the cavern where we suspected the tomb of the heretical cleric of Erastil* lay. We were not wrong.

Inside, a ledge enabled us to dismount from Brutus without landing in the lava. We could see a shadowy figure further in, slumped against a crystal coffin. He was worked up, shouting that he had betrayed Erastil and was unworthy: it was pretty clear, as he stripped out of filthy, vomit-coated armour, that he was intending to cast himself into the lava. Alexei spoke to him – spoke of possession and being out of control, spoke of redemption – and he calmed. It was remarkable. The crystal coffin behind him and the body it contained crumbled to dust and was blown away on the convection currents from the heat of the lava. We took the repentant Jeska back to Drezen, where he was given a horse and allowed to travel to his homelands to seek redemption. I hope Erastil guides him on his way, for it is a dangerous journey alone and sad as he is.

Us, we headed south once more, to those forests. It didn’t take long to find a well-sealed fort, with only one entrance in the form of large double doors and all windows little more than arrow-slits. Aaron and I snuck to it using the remains of the trees that had been cut back to create the clearing in which the large building stood. As I attempted to break the lock, Aaron activated his ability to ‘blur’ in and out of reality and used this to run through the door… As I continued to fiddle with the lock, I could hear sounds of violence inside so called the paladin and bodyguard still on Brutus’s back to come and help us… eventually got the door open to find Aaron had swiftly dispatched one barbarian and was doing his best not to kill the other.

Kieran healed the dead one back to life. I took an interest in the taxidermied bear and eagle behind the door: seeing someone else pulled back has become disquieting for me. There was a secret door behind the eagle – the barbarians later explained this lead to a storeroom. For now, I gave the resurrected man a drink to help him recover from the shock and he and the other guard lead us to their leader, sitting on a throne in a large hall in which statues of men and women glared down in judgement. He accepted he was responsible for the attacks on our supply caravans and, on learning we were part of the Crusade, advised he would have to kill us… That didn’t go well for him: barely a word from Alexei, and he was on the floor in a crumpled heap with no head.

The rest of the tribe were pleased to sign on to help us out, agreeing to act as guards for the caravans over this section of their route rather than bandits. One family volunteered to come back to Drezen with us to act as liaisons.

The barbarians had rumours of the strange winged creature that was our next target. It was scaled, they believed, and acid oozed between these copper-red scales. It was armed with large talons and teeth as long as broad swords. The creature was also said to be blind, with scars in place of eyes. However, they had no idea where it was based: the size of it meant it covered such a large area it seemed impossible to pin down. Finding a previously attacked location confirmed some of the rumours: gouged marks in the ground supported the teeth and talon claims, and other areas seemed to have been acid damaged.

With trepidation, we continued seeking out a lair for this beast and, after another few days flying with Brutus, in the cliff-like side of a chasm we spotted what appeared to be the entrance to a cave large enough to fit the rumours. The tunnel within opened into a large cavern filled with treasures – whilst Keiran kept guard at the entrance and the others gathered round Alexei, I spotted a sealed and blood-stained letter addressed to a cleric of Serenrai I knew was back in Drezen and a token of Iomedae I thought Akaros may appreciate, both small enough to be quickly and quietly pocketed. In the middle of the room, Aaron, Alexei and Evander drew my attention with sudden, jerked movements – fear like I’ve never seen in them.

Alexei looked up: “We have to leave. Now.”

He had created a scrying pool and sought out the beast within it: a terrifying creature of red, oozing scales with massive scars where its eyes had been. I didn’t look into the pool: the expressions on the faces around were enough to warn me off and mean I listened when Alexei said it was coming and we couldn’t be there when it arrived. Keiran went to argue, but we overruled him and Alexei took us back to Drezen through the Ethereal Plane (it’s a creepy place, but I think I’m getting used to it).

In Drezen, we explained what we had found and what Alexei had seen. He went off and returned with powerful weapons, armour and other items: a gift from his god. Apparently, this creature is out of place – should not be here, maybe should not be anywhere – so we have been tasked with getting rid of it. These weapons would give us a chance. Not much of a chance, but should mean we won’t die within seconds of its becoming aware of us.

So now to prepare to face it. Wizards and clerics will cast whatever protection they can to assist us, but then we’re on our own. We need to fight it on some sort of ground where it can’t just take to the sky and leave us, but fighting it within its own lair seems foolhardy too. This is a frightening prospect, but something we need to at least try.

*Yes, I’ve forgotten her name. Delamere? I want to say Delamere, but that may have been somebody else.

The Shin Kickers

So the Exiles 2014 Spring League has come to an end.

This shiny season seemed a good idea to bring the Shin Kickers back – a seasoned halfling team with some interesting players. The first season they played in, they did very badly and lost every single match but I did manage to start skilling the team up and this has produced some interesting (and potentially dangerous) individuals. 

Husbit has a rule with player names: if you don’t fill them in, he will using pornstar-type names. I couldn’t think of anything clever, so decided to name the trees after trees and the halflings after invisible/nobody-type ideas. When a player's killed/fired and repurchased, they are usually replaced by a player with the same name and a number....

Team Sheet at the end of the Spring Season

As you can see, Mr Shifty has died several times. He was the first 'fling to pick up side step but since his first death has been killed everytime he gets enough Star Player Points (SPP) to skill-up. Mr Nobody has managed to survive having two niggles for about two seasons now - no one can defeat him!

It seemed fitting that the first halfling to get an agility increase was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Mr Voldemort. Who then, of course, became my primary scorer. Across our league, he is only the second player (and only still living) to breach 100 SPP. He now has side step, sure feet, sprint and catch in addition to being AG4. Unfortunately, he recently suffered a movement loss but he’s still a valuable player.

I say the first halfling with an agility increase: at one point, I had 3 AG4 ‘flings. One was killed but the other (Mr Anon) is now AG5, with sure feet and side step.

Most excitingly, I have a MV4 tree, Mr Elm. He actually rolled a third (6-4) 10 but, being armour 10 (a tree) and already having taken two movement increases, Husbit (aka League Commissioner) wouldn’t let me make him movement 5 so I gave him break tackle instead. I’ve been hoping for a double to give him nerves of steel and make him my 'fling-flinger extraordinaire, although break tackle now means I'm thinking block for him to be the world’s scariest cage breaker.

Mr Oak, the other tree, has a good casualty record and has rewarded himself for that with grab, multiple-block, guard and piling-on. So far, I don’t think I’ve remembered to use piling-on once (and when I’ve remembered I have the skill, him being on his feet has been more useful), but as he’s only rolled normal skills and there’s only so many strength skills available, I’m sure it will come in useful eventually.

With the halflings, unless I roll a double or stat their first skill is side step. This lead to a wonderful few games towards the end of the third season (when Army Dave’s norse San Frannorseca 49’ers obliterated the plucky 'Kickers), where 3 halflings were marked with red skill rings to show they didn’t have side step. Second skill tends to be sure feet to make extra movement more reliable, followed by sprint. I do have one side step/jump up 'fling, though – just to be different.

On doubles, I have one 'fling (Mr Wrong) with both kick-off return and sure hands: a lovely combination. If I manage to skill him up again, I’m looking at catch to make him even better at acquiring the ball early. My only other double is a blocking 'fling – my second, the first having been slaughtered in the second season by San Frannorseca 49’ers. I really wanted to go with mighty blow, but listened to the boring advice that block was more sensible.

The models are Impact! Miniatures' Elfball Gnome team. My favourite is the little guy cuddling the ball. These painted by our friend George.

So where are my team going in the future? I’m probably not running them next season: a killer Chaos Dwarf team in the form of Slow Whites has arisen that puts me off when I’m very fond of my little guys (for similar reasons, my Amaze-Zings Amazon team – sponsored by Haribogre – won’t be making a reappearance just yet), so it’s probably going to be ogres. But they won’t be retiring entirely just yet: I want to see if Mr Voldemort can earn himself that elusive final skill…

Rain Lover

I came across a new word the other day, ‘pluviophile’. It’s a proposed new word to mean ‘rain-lover’ or ‘one who finds peace of mind in the rain’. There seems to be some debate whether it should be spelled as ‘pluviaphile’ instead; I like the word either way, though think I prefer the second spelling.

Strictly speaking, I’m not a pluviaphile. My love of the rain ends after a few days of heavy downpour and a few minutes of drizzle. I do, however, prefer the rain to the heat – particularly when the rain comes heavily, unexpectedly and in company with thunder and lightning. The heat leaves me frustrated and fractious; the rain – heavy, stormy rain – refreshes and recharges me and definitely gives me peace of mind.

If I were truly a rain-lover, I would be able to identify clouds at a glance and tell you interesting facts about their height and formation. Instead, I have a few vaguely-remembered names from geography lessons at school.

Nimbus is a cloud, right?

But I love the rain. I love those fast, little drops that send you from dry to soaked in a matter of minutes and leave me drenched for work. I love those large drops that fall like an approving pat; cool in hot and heavy air.

That steady, heavy rain, where the drops are large but fall apart so you don’t get drenched immediately, that’s probably my favourite. It normally presages a thunderstorm, and there’s nothing like a thunderstorm to make me want to throw my shoes off and run barefoot through grass. I dream of owning a large, private garden not just because that would be lovely but also because then I could run naked through the rain without fear of judgement. I’d just need Husbit to stand inside the door with a towel for when I’ve had enough.

Invigorating.

When I was very little, our parents knew a storm was on its way because my big sister would have a nosebleed and my little sister and I would have terrible headaches. The pain is much less these days, but I can still feel the pressure build up before a storm and it raises an excitement within me that is thwarted if the storm fails to appear or if it happens overnight and I sleep through or if I’m too exhausted from work to go outside and just stand in that freedom.

I love the rain.

Amongst my colleagues at work, I have an almost negative reputation because I’m more comfortable in the cold than the heat. I joke that it’s because I lived in Wales for three years, but my Dad says I’ve always been that way. I can’t sleep in the heat and it makes my thinking sluggish, like a troll on Discworld.

I grew up in an old Victorian house and my father’s tolerance for the cold, like mine now, outweighed his tolerance for the heat so he would not turn on the central heating until the last possible moment. My bedroom was at the back corner of the house, furthest from the chimney breast that served the open fire. My radiator was at the end of the line and needed bleeding more often than not, so even when the heating was on my room often didn’t benefit. The small window was single-glazed – the room used to be a bathroom and I liked the floral pattern on the obscured glass so resisted having it changed even as I complained about the cold. In the winter, there would be ice on the water by my bed when I woke and, you know what? That’s the way I liked it.

Last winter, we had a lot of rain and high winds and it got old quickly. I think most people prefer to have some variation in weather – a cool day among the hot days they profess to love; a day of sunshine amongst the clouds. I prefer the cold to the heat but the occasional hot day is lovely, and I love a proper storm but they are more enjoyable in juxtaposition to calmer weather – or as a break from the oppressive heat of this summer.