Chapter 7: Something Rotten In Greyhawk

[Stonjuz]

Map update

[wolfpack]

is this said outload? As far as Phineious knows everyone has everything they need.

[Stonjuz]

The doctor ponders the idea of ......traveling with enemies of Iuz (anything you say, can and wil be used against him)

*cough*....*ahem* ummm. so, uh, yeah. There is a very high probability that the doctor could have maybe forgotten to double check the certain something that may or may not exist, depending on who you ask and whether they've had a few rounds of whiskey or not. There could have also been the highly unlikely chance that the something in question, that may or may not even exist, could not have been properly covered up in the heat of the moment when the fires erupted. But seriously, there is nothing there of interest to anyone, just a normal old clinic. *whistles*

is this said outload? .

No, not outloud. I'm just having fun with his brain. Both of 'em

[grey_starr]

*Benson will maneuver them to pause by one of the better weapon smiths... so that he can drop 60gp(?) for a matched pair of long swords, one hip holster, and one back shield (with sword) holster. Also, for good measure - a dagger with belt holster*

[wolfpack]

cobbler whistles

60 coin! that's why I stick with spears

[grey_starr]

Actually... I think the stick is the only weapon I have not bothered to learn. So I suppose that might be something you might be able to beat me at.*teasing smile*

Truth is, good steel costs money... and could be what saves our lives. *using one sword to demonstrate a few forms - Kingfisher Circles the Pond -The Falling Leaf - The Rose Unfolds*

Thankfully a lot of the forms translate well into the other weapon styles... but, I will admit that combat comes easier to me than having to keep a secret. *glancing to the Doctor*

[wolfpack]

yes well my stick has a right pointy end as well, to the detriment of many a ne'er do well and cut purse.

Something the ones who set us up will soon find out

[Stonjuz]

Shacktown is comprised of huts, tents, lean-tos and shanties all connected by little more than dirt paths. No more than ten structures encountered have frames. "During high winds no less then ten percent of Shacktown is blown away completely." Nicholi points out along the way.
A few chickens can be seen around some of the shanties and a few goats are also seen in passing.
Eventually he brings the group to the only two story building around. It appears to have been a frame structure at one time but has been thru several patchings with different size planks. The place aint what it used to be.
The humble shrine to St Cuthbert still has a few of its glass windows intact, all have been reinforced with wooden lattices to protect from debris.
All in all, a striking contrast to the grand structure within the walls of the City proper.
As some of the locals see that the group is arriving, you all are pressed for handouts by a few beggers, young and old.

[Rukellian]

Not having received any answers from Benson, other than more suspected suspicion, Fezuul keeps to himself mostly, trying to figure things out on his own. As he looks upon Shacktown, part of him wants to go out and help the poor people, providing his services to everyone who needs them, another part of him is fearful of what may happen to the people if his group stays any longer. Just as they were attacked so boldly in the streets of Greyhawk, so much easier so would it be to be attacked here, and the doctor did not want to involve the poor citizens.

"I'd rather not spend too much time here, if the situation allows it," the doctor says out loud as he hands out a few copper pieces here and there. "We were attacked quite boldy in the streets some time ago by evil mages and their henchmen. I do not want to see the same chaos unfold here."

"With all due respect," he then says to Nicholis specifically, "I personally cannout vouch for the safety of the citizens of this small town here, if we were to remain. I don't know how much our friends here have told you, but we are being hunted; by what, I do not know, let alone why."

[wolfpack]

The people here will be no friend to those opposing us. These are my people.

Cobbler looks at Nicholis tears welling.


I have been gone to long, the shrine has fallen into disrepair. I will fix this, I will give whatever I can to have it restored.

[Majik]

Gilnes smiles at the typical banter between the fighters as he remembers his own weapon master... `such a shapely statuesque women... such grace and beauty, what a perfect figure she had as she danced around... so soft and warm once she was disarmed'. Gilnes muses to himself as he stops paying attention to Benson's demonstration of sword forms.

Smiling and winking at almost any girl of suitable age Gilnes arrogantly strolls out the city towards Shacktown. With honest words of regret to the beggars of this area Gilnes confesses to only having a couple coins to his name. During which he attempts to stear clear of the professional beggars that are the eyes and ears of the local thieves guild. `Nothing here today my friend` Gilnes says to the more obvious cut-purses.

Still Gilnes looks about and remembers his own start as a cut-purse in a town not too much better than this... he left that town a long time ago, and has no wish to remain in this one any longer than necessary.
So Gilnes simply smiles and nods as the fighters talk with their old friend.

[Stonjuz]

Six cots inside a large common room, soon bring meager joy from most, but for Benson and Phineus it is a blast from the past.
Both shared duties here in this room. Many an hour polishing that brass,... wait,... the brass is long gone.

[Majik]

Gilnes takes a long look at his cot, and barely stifles a sigh as Lafria ... his elvin cat companion enters.

She utters what appears to be a crude laugh before she leaps up to the highest perch she can find and watches the scene impassively.

[Majik]

For the DM: [1d100] = 12[1d20] = 1[1d10] = 7[1d8] = 8[1d6] = 3[1d4] = 3

[wolfpack]

phinieus takes a cot and laments the disrepair the shrine has fallen into.

for dm [1d100] = 3[1d20] = 15[1d10] = 7[1d8] = 1[1d6] = 6[1d4] = 1

[Rukellian]

Fezuul, unable to find sleep due to his frustration, stays up and tends to everyone's wounds. (Improved Healing: Anatomists make excellent doctors, gaining a +2 on their ability checks for the healing nonweapon proficiency. Patients resting under their care restore damage at an accelerated rate of 3 hp per day (4 hp per day with the herbalism nonweapon proficiency)). "I musn't lose sight of my medical practices, even in troubling times like these. This is... *sighs* the least I can do for them."

[NJWilliam]

Branc Temugen

Branc picks a cot and sits down to examine his staff of striking more closely.
While a fine and valued weapon, he does not see why a simple staff of striking would demand an attack of the nature of the last with a specific objective of seizing his staff. Perhaps there is more to it than meets the eye.

Branc uses his detect magic ability to more closely examine the staff and determine if there is an aura other than that already known to him.

To his companions, he says, "Do you think we need spells for combat or investigation, most likely, tomorrow?"

[Stonjuz]

include some rolls in the posts....I dont like rolling secretly for those who didnt, or who didnt post during the last go'round
Detect magic reveals nothing more than is already known of the staff. Temugen thinks back to Nellsir, the Captain who let the staff fall into his control. Any reason for such an act eludes Branc. A mistrust of his own superiors perhaps?

In the early evening, as the characters begin to fall into peaceful relaxation, Nicholi will offer washings and to finish up what healing Lokvin prescribes. Stains in cloth and morale give evidence of the need but Nicholi is impressed with the humility in Fezuul's approach and will only assist in healing the most tramatic of injury before the "Dokta" completes his skills. As the party, felines included, gets as comfortable as the current situation allows, Nicholi reveals his problems in a more detailed manner. The session is low and secretive. Any words above a whisper, leave even the air listening. The cleric passes out what little breads and rice he has. Mixed along with summoned goodberries the older man begins......"I know nearly all of the people who live in Shacktown. Some leave all the time. But they always take their belongings with them. When you're this poor, every little possession counts. You dont just disappear in the middle of the night leaving everything you own. The thing that really bothers me is that none of them said goodbye. Others who have left have let me know that they were leaving and where they'd be going. I was always happy when someone found an opportunity elsewhere or found some family. But the folks who have left lately-well, they just seem to have vanished. Im worried and I truly hope that they have found a better life somewhere but i just cant help but think that they are in more trouble than they had here."
He goes on to describe seven men and three women in particular, who have disappeared in the last month. "Reasonably good health, all of ém. Most were parish'ners too." It is apparent that he is deeply concerned and adds, "I can show you where they lived but I have already searched those places. The only thing I found that was remotely close to being a clue is this diary. It belonged to a man who moved here four months ago."
He hands the book to Gilnes. It bears the words, The Journal of Janson Parlens.

[NJWilliam]

Branc Temugen

Branc improvises the strap already on his staff for slinging it across his back so that he can more easily tie one end to his wrist to help secure it should another attempt be made to steal the staff from him.

Doh! Sorry.

Branc: [1d6] = 1, [1d8] = 4, [1d10] = 8, [1d20] = 18, [1d100] = 49

[Stonjuz]

Skimming thru, flipping pages, Gilnes does his best speed-reading and confirms as Nicholi summarizes.
"The book tells the tale of the past few years of his life. Janson was a juggler in a traveling carnival for three years, but he left because the carnival was sold. The new owners treated the troupe poorly, cut their wages and generally treated the performers as their own personal slaves. Janson decided that even a life of poverty was better than the indignity of working for those people.
He left the carnival and came to Greyhawk City because the business had once visited the city and Janson thought it to be a wonderful place. Unable to find work, he settled into Shacktown until he could find something better. The journal stops abruptly. A little over two weeks ago was the last entry."
Nicholi seems reluctant to let the group keep the book but he says, "Letting good men as yourselves study it, may help save others from whatever fate Janson has suffered. Return it to me when it is no longer of benefit. Won't you?"