Finding the Spark (Pathfinder 1E Quest)

24 of Arodus 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

They come afoot under the moonlight with the trod of weary folk who had to leave behind their mounts when the sodden ground could no longer hear them, with mace and crossbow, with chain mail clinking that none but a dwarf would have cause to complain about the steel they bore. The eyes of wary warriors had they, a dozen men who had shared watches and bread, wine and companionship and in the heavy silence shared unease at walking under the shadow of the woods under black for which their weak eyes were not meant. Yet on their marched, driven by a will and purpose greater than their own.


The 'knights', if you recall the term aright, are not the same ones who had been patrolling near Longacre, taller they seem to you encased in blackened steel that dancing with points of starlight, cold they seem, as the mental does not allow the heat of their bodies to spread outwards that one might almost mistake the pair of them for automation marching out of hidden ruins to exact ruin upon the living for a case known only to their long dead makers. But no, the warmth of flesh shines though the slit in their visor as they scan the trees and their own soldiery in equal measure. Upon their shields you is a lumpy spiral that one might count as a sign of poor craftsmanship were it not for the skill displayed elsewhere ringed in thorns.


"A Black Rose," Mina whispers. "I've never heard of that device before, but it seems an ill-omened thing."

Mina Knowledge (Nobility): 1d20+11 = 19 (Failure)

"A poor omen for them to be sure, when we kill them and strip it off to sell to that kobold back in Cauldron," you whisper back encouragingly, hands shifting under the false knots with which they had been 'tied' behind your back. How close to Burnlanders have to be to notice, you winder as they enter the camp. Forty feet? Thirty?

The babe is fussing at having to lay on the hard ground to sell the ruse, not crying yet, but if this takes much longer you're sure that will come. All the better to sell the ruse, you tell yourself guiltily.

Just then one of the armored warriors stops abruptly and calls out in a loud voice for Chief Sirkan to appear before his lord, giving you the chance to see the architect of the hunt at last. Aurelian Vicio is about a head shorter than either of his knights, though he more than makes up for it in the girth swaddled in gold and crimson robes. That red almost seems to stain his flesh from jowls to cheeks to the crown of his bald head, veins coil around small deep-sunken eyes. And when he smiles —you think that is a smile— it reveals sharpened, crooked teeth at odds with his pudgy exterior.


He turns towards the cage... and the baby goes silent. He barks out an order, impatient at the iruxi's seeming tardiness, and one of the knights hastens to obey, breaking from the line of warriors to cross the distance into the camp. Why not more of them? It occurs to you suddenly and you sharpen your mind like a spear and cast it forth.

Inquisitor Will Save against Detect Thoughts: 1d20+8 = 21 (Success)

"No," the word rakes across the surface of your mind. When no answer comes his laugh fills the night, like brimstone bubbles breaking the surface of Cauldron's lake. He raises one beringed hand to his guards to halt then walks across the beaten ground towards the cage. The knight who had spoken earlier follows. It's hard to read body language underneath all that steel, but something tells you he's appropriately unhappy about his charge's folly.

Inquisitor Wisdom Roll not to Approach: 1d20+3 = 7 (Failure)

Cruel knowing eyes slide down from your face to your shoulders to your arms... and suddenly they widen in alarm. He shouts a warning or starts to at least... Crossbow bolts buzz through the air like a swarm of angry wasps at the obvious target, you. Half of them find their mark, biting though shadow and silk, one in your thigh, another grazing left arm and a third jammed under your rib.

Inquisitor Perception: 1d20+4 = 17 vs Akorian's Slight of Hand: 1d20+2 = 12
Initiative rolled... Kori rolls 6 Second Lowest initiative in the round
Crossbowmen to hit (+5): Three hits -> Damage

You Take 14 Damage -> Now at 12/26

Thought the blur of sudden pain you see Cob launching himself at the inquisitor's back even as flame leaps to sudden life beside him, Gorok putting the gemstone to good use to pin him in place and distract him as the goblin jams the blade under the priest's arm with a yowl of triumph. The knight has not the time to turn his shield to guard his charge, not from the goblin, not from the flames. The priest of Asmodeus burns.

Inquisitor takes 28 Damage Total -> Now at 3/31

Amid the clang of weapons being readied, hue and cry being raised the whisper of Mina's magic passes like mist, unseen but felt and all at once, the foremost knight collapses with a clang as his fellow charges forth to shield his master with his body among a hail of javelins. Alas the iruxi are used to hunting game and the odd unfortunate logger, not warriors encased in steel. As the macemen follow, if at a less determined peace you realize the battle can still go ill...

Knight One Will Save: 1d20+4 = 16 (Failure)

Then that knight ever so bold buries his sword in the muck next to Cob as the goblin rolls away and sticks out his bright red tongue. Goblin insults are not your strong suits, but you thing he said something about not being able to hit a dead dog's ass. Alas you do not have the chance to admire a fine taunt as the inquisitor seems to have decided for the better part of Valor drawing a vial from his robes and downing it to fade from sight.

Knight Two charges Cob: 1d20+8 = 9 (Critical Failure)

Alas for him Iolda had been watching, two bright sparks of arcane fire spiral down from the trees striking him right between the eyes.

Magic Missile: 2d4+2 = 4
Inquisitor takes 4 Damage -> Now at -1/31 (Unconscious)

What do you do?

[] Heal yourself

[] Cast Blurred Movement on yourself and keep moving

[] Write in

OOC: Well there's good news and bad news, the good news is the most dangerous enemy on the field is unconscious and so is one of the knights, the bad news is Kori is a pincushion with less than half his health and those crossbowmen might just keep shooting at him.