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Thread: COTE: The Adventure!

  1. #1
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    Post COTE: The Adventure!

    Prelude:

    Felix and Farook, co-founders of the Fortunehunters adventuring camp, sat on the sixth story balcony of Kassen’s great bell tower. As they prepared to strike the seventh hour, the pair could see the whole town, thatched roof houses and farms giving way to the Tourondel River and the dense Fangwood Forest.

    “Coincidence,” declared the catfolk. He neglected his cold coffee as he sharpened his arrowheads on a whetstone.

    “Coincidence?” Farook echoed, chuckling. He sipped his riboo tea which he kept hot with a spell. He ticked points off on his long simian fingers. “To the team that wins the most festival games, the tradition of retrieving the Everflame shall fall. Our five students, left in town by their guardians past the month of *Neth were. Both of these things, for the first time in three years, are happening. Again I say, coincidence, the sour skeptic’s term for destiny, is.”

    “I don’t believe in your ‘hamfisted agents of fate,’” Felix said. “But I see how anyone might take one look at our motley students and conclude nothing less could put those five in the same tent. Or keep them there.”

    There was Mort, the gnome sorcerer obsessed with his gadgets, Fuego the ifrit obsessed with clean, Sarha the curious and gentle tengu, and barbaric halfling Mingy, who ranked honor just a hair above battle in her favorite pursuits. Last year had brought a fifth student, Micah, a sociable albeit deaf ifrit gifted and schooled in Sarenrae's mysteries of life energy. Once the great bell chimed the tenth hour, their five campers would meet their instructors at the base of the tower for practice drills.

    “In my bones, I feel it!” Farook insisted. “The ones to retrieve the Everflame, our little family shall be. And stronger their differences shall make them.”

    Felix’s tabby tail twitched in agitation. “I’m not so sure the timing’s right for our four misfits to go charging around a moldy old crypt,” he protested. “What about the rumors Mayor Zolas has tried to hush up these past six months about disturbances in the graveyard? Or that troublemaker of a peddler Ravelli and his half-wit sister disappearing, along with the mayor’s ‘crypt cleaning crew,’” ---he ladled the phrase with sarcasm---“less than a week before the festival? Now those things are probably not coincidences.”

    Farook shrugged. “Too jumpy you are. Bring our young folk together only to tear them apart, Fate would not.”

    “Apart from each other, or limb from limb?” Felix asked darkly.

    The monkeyman grinned serenely. “Either. Surprise you they will!”

    As they rang the great bell seven times for what the locals called “the fortunate hour,” the morning sent each of their students a surprise of their own…


    OOC:

    *Neth = November

    Stay tuned for your PC (Player Character's) solo scene and get ready for roleplay and some rolls!

    Make and post in the OOC (Out Of Character) section any d20 roll you need to if you want to use a Skill or something, and I'll respond. Otherwise I will prompt you.

    For now there will be in-game placeholders for our fourth player (hence the bracket notation [Player#4]) until they're less busy with work.
    Last edited by UngainlyDodge; 07-11-2015 at 06:52 PM. Reason: added Mort! Added Micah!
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

  2. #2
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    Exclamation RESERVED for Player #4

    This space reserved for further postings. Do not reply.
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

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    Post Little Lady Ain't Much For Small Talk [Sarha and Thora: In the House of Jade Gym]

    While the great bell chimed seven, Thora strode through the House of Jade, the quarter of Kassen’s multi-faith temple devoted to Irori. The dwarf’s hair was more silver than blonde after over two hundred years as a priest of Torag, god of artifice and creation. But the arms in her sleeveless tunic still bulged with muscle thanks to her other profession as Kassen’s metalsmith.

    She passed by the library, prayer mats, and candle lit altars to the god of self-perfection in mind and body, stopping inside the gymnasium. There she spotted her tengu apprentice, Sarha, along with monkey bars, a rock climbing wall, tall hanging sandbags, and chin up bars.

    “I see there’s still nothing properly sized so’s my folk could reach!” she grumbled. “You’ll have a stern word with Brother Alok about that, won’t you Sarha? I wager the old bird would listen to you, after you retrieved that Hartha statue snatched from under his skinny beak.”

    Sarha cocked her head at her mentor. Thora had never sought her out at the gym before their session at the forge before. Nor had the smith ever expressed the slightest interest in the facility’s equipment…or this kind of small talk.

    “What draws you here at the break of dawn, anyway?” Thora asked the young cleric.

    OOC:

    Sarha, reply only to this post for now!
    Last edited by UngainlyDodge; 11-03-2014 at 06:54 PM.
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

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    Post An Apprentice By Any Other Name [Aleph and Fuego: In the Wizard's Home Lab]

    At seven o’clock Aleph the wizard’s popping, cracking joints announced his descent down the stairs of his stone tower, Kassen’s second tallest structure. As usual his early rising apprentice, Fuego, had preceded him into their lab.

    Their workshop’s shelves and long tables groaned under tomes, flasks, labeled jars, and other tools of magecraft and alchemy. Yet everything was spotless and in scrupulous order. The fastidious ifrit would have it no other way.

    Even dressed in his festival finest of shimmering sunburst patterned red robes and matching peaked hat, Aleph felt a touch shabby beside the immaculate Fuego. “Good morning, young Figaro,” he greeted him with eyes twinkling. “I trust you’ve been preparing for that excursion I hinted at yesterday.”

    Hinting was a generous way to phrase it, rendering preparation almost impossible. Aleph felt an air of mystery was his duty, and the so-called excursion could be anything from an herb gathering trip to Fuego’s parents whisking him back home to Lastwall.

    The old timer couldn’t resist another hint. “Perhaps we’ll try out those marvelous gloves of yours we crafted,” he went on, rubbing his papery hands together. “What do you say, Fizbo?”


    OOC:

    Simoriah, reply to this post only, for now!
    Last edited by UngainlyDodge; 11-03-2014 at 06:54 PM.
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

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    Post Unhappy Camper [Mingy/Mondo and Marta: In Fangwood Forest]

    Kassen’s great bell echoed to the Fortunehunters’ campsite roughly two miles outside town, where halfling Mingy Glasschewer reclined against Mondo’s warm furry belly. The tolling bell she might have chosen to ignore, but the tramping approach of a horse drawing a cart disturbed her further.

    She took a furtive look around before closing her eyes into slits and leaning back into her giant weasel. She’d seen no sign of Gugal, her long in the tooth *Chelaxian mentor often dismissed by the townsfolk as a delusional drunk and beggar. Traveling by horse and cart definitely wasn't his style, though.

    The intruder she glimpsed between her lids was unarmed, except for a wire brush in one hand and a shoulder bag and yellow dress draped over the other.

    “Mingy, dear? It is me, Marta,” came the no-nonsense voice of the town laundress. Like other townsfolk she spoke a bit more loudly and slowly when addressing the *Kellid. Her mousy brown hair was wound so tight to her head beneath her white cap that she had a look of perpetual surprise. “I am here to get you ready for the festival and drive you to town, young lady. Come, we will set up one of these tents to dress you in.” Her smile somehow tightened further. “Your…friend is not around, is he?”

    Gugal was not around, having apparently gone off for parts unknown without waking her. She had called him 'Grampa' almost from birth, ever since her nomadic tribe adopted the wily halfling armor smith into its fold.

    Grampa's un-announced absence was uncharacteristic to the point of bewildering, especially in light of his excitement yesterday over this being "Apprentice Day." Apprentice Day was the annual day on which Kassen's mentors were to formally test their protegee's progress, and it overlapped with the first day of the Everflame festival games.


    OOC:

    Drake, this post's just for you, for now!

    *Chelaxian (Russian equivalent, in Golarion the empire that once owned Nirmathas where Kassen lies)
    *Kellid (neanderthal/nomadic tribe cave people equivalent, typically from the Realm of the Mammoth Lords)
    Last edited by UngainlyDodge; 11-01-2014 at 05:27 PM.
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

  6. #6
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    Default Mingy Glasschewer

    Mingy looked up at the washer of clothes and listened to her talk. What she said made little sense to her.

    "I must be finding Grampa. He probably drunk and forgetting what day it is. Why you carry yellow rag? It dirty?"

    She looked around for her mentor as she stood up and stretched.

  7. #7
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    Post Keep Your Rag? [Mingy & Marta]

    Quote Originally Posted by Drakestendor View Post
    MINGY: "I must be finding Grampa. He probably drunk and forgetting what day it is. Why you carry yellow rag? It dirty?"
    For a moment Mingy's visitor could only gape at this mangling of her intentions. Yet the girl didn't seem to be doing it on purpose...or was she?

    The halfling thought she spotted Grampa's hairy-footed footprints leading away from the tent he had fallen asleep on top of last night after failing to assemble it. The canvas still smelled of his sweat and smoky whisky. Before she could investigate further, the laundress blocked her path.

    "NOT RAG, PRETTY DRESS," Marta insisted, unconsciously aping the pidgin Common. She held up the child-sized dress by its sleeves a foot from Mingy's body. "DRESS FOR YOU. I mean, this is for you." Thinking quickly she added, "I think Grampa go to town. You get in the cart," she pointed helpfully, "and we go find Grampa in town. Okay?"

    Peering around the woman's skirts, the halfling saw the footprints did not appear to lead in the direction from which the horse-drawn cart had come.


    OOC:

    A Survival Skill Roll for tracking would be welcome...

    Question, Drake: Will you control Mondo's movements and behavior, or did you want me to even when no Handle Animal is involved? I was going to leave it up to you.
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

  8. #8
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    Default Mingy Classchewer

    Mingy glared up at the woman who cleans clothes.

    "No, I go the way Grampa went. He get lost sometimes. Thank you for pretty, yellow, dress rag."

    She yanked the dress from the woman's hand and walked around her towards the footprints.

    In the Kellid tongue, she firmly barked orders, "Mondo, come! Find Grampa!"

    Mondo bounded over, growling at the lady as he went past. Mingy deftly jumped into the saddle as Mondo's nose hit the ground trying to find the scent of Grampa.

    OOC
    ride check d20(13) + 9 = 22 to fast mount as a free action
    mondo survival check to track d20(15) + 5 = 20.... can follow tracks up to 10 hours old with that roll, unless it rained
    I plan on controlling Mondo, but feel free to make him do stuff in yer posts, but we are usually attached at the hip
    Last edited by Drakestendor; 11-02-2014 at 08:59 AM.

  9. #9
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    Post Pump It Up!

    Quote Originally Posted by UngainlyDodge View Post
    While the great bell chimed seven, Thora strode through the House of Jade, the quarter of Kassen’s multi-faith temple devoted to Irori. The dwarf’s hair was more silver than blonde after over two hundred years as a priest of Torag, god of artifice and creation. But the arms in her sleeveless tunic still bulged with muscle thanks to her other profession as Kassen’s metalsmith.

    She passed by the library, prayer mats, and candle lit altars to the god of self-perfection in mind and body, stopping inside the gymnasium. There she spotted her tengu apprentice, Sarha, along with monkey bars, a rock climbing wall, tall hanging sandbags, and chin up bars.

    “I see there’s still nothing properly sized so’s my folk could reach!” she grumbled. “You’ll have a stern word with Brother Alok about that, won’t you Sarha? I wager the old bird would listen to you, after you retrieved that Hartha statue snatched from under his skinny beak.”

    Sarha cocked her head at her mentor. Thora had never sought her out at the gym before their session at the forge before. Nor had the smith ever expressed the slightest interest in the facility’s equipment…or this kind of small talk.

    “What draws you here at the break of dawn, anyway?” Thora asked the young cleric.

    OOC:

    Sarha, reply only to this post for now!
    Sarha was just finishing up her 15 minute AMRAP (as many reps as possible) alternating 15 burpees and 15 rope swings; falling face first into a push-up then jumping up then running over to swing on long heavy ropes to the ground. Breathlessly she replied, "I always enjoy a morning workout before heading to the Forge. Warming up the body can help warm up the soul. A better question is what are you doing here?"

    A timer went off to signal the end of her workout and Sarha fellvonto her back with a hard slam on the ground. She gasped for air with her eyes closed but a smile on her face. “I don’t believe your folk have ever stepped foot in this place. Sure you can blame the pull-up bars for being too high, but I believe every other piece of equipment is more than sufficient to accomplish any work-out of your choosing. Not to mention, the bars are adjustable.” She followed with a hearty laugh at her light humor which had been made funnier by her feeling light-headed from her intense workout.

    "I'm hungry." She darted up almost as quickly as she had fallen and ran to her locker where she had a backpack filled with protein bars then proceeded to stuff her face with 5 at a time!
    "Friends don't let friends mend evil altars." - UngainlyDodge
    "The goblin died as he had lived, ignorant of what was going on and generally outraged." - UngainlyDodge

  10. #10
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    Post The Game is A-Footprint [Mingy/Mondo & Marta]

    Quote Originally Posted by Drakestendor View Post
    Mingy glared up at the woman who cleans clothes."No, I go the way Grampa went. He get lost sometimes. Thank you for pretty, yellow, dress rag." ...Mondo bounded over, growling at the lady as he went past. Mingy deftly jumped into the saddle as Mondo's nose hit the ground trying to find the scent of Grampa.
    The laundress took a quick step back from Mingy's growling weasel, and her horse Clover snorted in fear and began to back away. Yellow dress in hand, the halfling and her furred mount bounded into the woods hot on the trail of the missing Gugal.

    Looking at the mud and grass stained garments knotted around Mingy's limbs and torso, Marta couldn't quite bring herself to give up so easily. Not after her boasts to the other village wives about how she could transform the savage girl into the belle of the festival.

    So she calmed Clover and led him in Mingy's wake. She fell a little behind, having to wind the horse and cart through the trees and stones. A wooden barrel, a watering can, soft horsehair brushes, towels, twine clothesline, three large quilts, and paper packages of soap bumped and slid around in the bottom of the cart. She'd intended to rig up a shower and give Mingy a long overdue bath. No doubt that lout Gugal would require one too, once found.

    To experienced trackers like Mingy and Mondo Gugal's footprints were easy to follow and indicated a leisurely pace, for the first fifteen minutes or so. But then they became deeper and spaced further apart, a running gait. And shortly after that a bigger pair of prints overlapped them. The latter were from the clawed paws of a rather large beast.

    And that wasn't the only thing the beast had left behind. There was also a pile of scat warm and pungent enough (and still free enough of flies and beetles and the like) that it had to be very recent.

    Gugal and his bestial pursuer couldn't be far ahead.

    Marta completely missed the tracks, too busy muttering to herself in a voice loud enough for Mingy to hear. "*Erastil knows what that fool Gugal was thinking, leaving the girl in the wild like that. A mother, that's what a girl her age needs. Or at least someone to get those nasty little birdie skulls out of her braids."


    OOC:

    Athletics (Ride) Skill 22, Success to quick mount. Survival (tracking) roll 20, Success to follow prints.

    Next time we'll get a Handle Animal Skill roll for Mondo to make him follow the "Seek Grampa" command, but no big deal.

    Knowledge (Nature) Skill roll will tell you more about what you're following. (Or Survival works.)

    *Erastil: God of farming and the hunt who encourages his followers to aid and inspire others with acts of kindness; he is the primary god worshipped in Kassen and Nirmathas in general.
    Last edited by UngainlyDodge; 11-17-2014 at 10:08 PM.
    "Fall into my pit trap, shame on you. Fill my pit trap with bloodthirsty sharp-toothed goblins with abyssal templates, shame on me." ---SuperBall

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