RoundTable Adventuring

Dear Diary...
A place to journal your character's thoughts

I hope this will work as I would like it to. For those of you who are so inclined; please keep a personal chronicle from your character’s perspective. Or, if you were the GM a third person perspective of the previous session or even the villains’ if you like. To do so just click Create New Post

An action die will be awarded for logs that are considered “worthwhile”.

Amarro #1

Well That didn’t go as planned.

Things I learned on the failed attempt to get to the other bar:

1. Daggers are surprisingly heavy
2. The kid can throw one hell of a punch when he needs to
3. Sheriffs have some apparent dislike of letting people finish a perfectly fairly acquired pie
4. Tomoe is: – surprisingly strong and fast…
– Also surprisingly adept at tying knots
– not a very light sleeper though
5. I need to find a better way to get down from a window quickly
6. Owls are scary
7. It’s Always the Gnome

plans for the future:

1. learn how to escape from ropes
2. learn how to tie ropes
3. pretend to be a good boy when Tomoe is watching (the kid is alright though, much better than
i thought a paladin would be)
4. do the ol’ sticky fingers routine in the next town, purse is feeling a little light.
5. Make SURE Tomoe or the kid does Not see the ol’ sticky fingers routine
6. beer

should be fun these next couple of weeks, and maybe I’ll even get to shoot that little goblin cocksnot in the face! yeah that’ll put a smile on my face.

Leon #1

Well, it’s a hell of a first adventure. It’s nothing significant like going to destroy an undead army or slaying dragons, but it’s a start. The party I’m venturing with is…. interesting to say the least. There’s 2 halflings, both are completely different and neither get along. One seems to be an experienced adventurer, but his methods are questionable. But perhaps such are the ways of adventurers?

This other party that we met. They need to be brought to justice, how could that ‘sheriff’ allow people of such alignment to stay here. They are the root of the problem. If that blockhead fighter didn’t make a scene, I’d still have that dagger. Something is definitely fishy with this whole thing.

Maybe I’m just overthinking things. Perhaps my sense of fairness and justice are different than that of the outside world. I think the party is suspicious of my nobility, but I don’t think they know I’m of house Raglan yet. Perhaps that is for the best, for now.

Also, I really should have asked that barmaid for her name….

Chartreux #1

The encounter at the inn conferms what Chartreux always knew – you cant trust the Authorities. In the name of ‘peace’ and ‘order’ they run roughshod over the truth and only care about the concerns of the rich and ‘proper’ citizens. We were attacked and defended ourselves, but because some dumbass scholar is too stupid to protect his property WE are to blame.

So now we are forced, under penalty of imprisonment and theft of property, to risk our lives traipsing through the wilderness trying to make sure that the rich investor class always gets their moneys worth. And to make matters worse we are forced to compete again another group who have shown their willingness to use force and murder their enemies.

The Sheriff cares nothing for truth or justice and no doubt drags that Witch in for questioning so often for bullshit crimes youd think she was a tiefling. If this injustice is what passes for the LAW in the region we should do everything in our power to destroy it.

Leon #2

Adventures are not all fun and games like the stories make them sound like. My first quest was also the first time one of my allies fell in battle. It is regretful that not only did we lose a valuable ally, the forces of good and justice did not quite prevail this time around.
Perhaps the light is not all powerful? Perhaps there is no justice in this world, people live or die at the fate of a dice roll. It is saddening to believe that our lives are nothing more than favorable results.
Light, give me strength. Purge these doubts from my mind. Help me to better protect my comrades. Tomoe died trying to protect me. It was because she doubted that I would be able to defend myself. Curse my immaturity, it’s because everything thinks of me as a mere child, as someone to be protected.
Light, give me the power to protect others, the power to convince others that I am strong enough to take care of myself.

Sheriff Cage Blunnde's Journal

It was a mildly curious and irritating week. As originally thought, “The Traveling Exhibition of Doctor Phineus Krane, Professor of Antiquities and Master of Shroud Artistry", did attracted the attention of the local Hobgoblin rabble. A refreshingly naive Halfling reported the body of a dead hob scout in the road. Seeming expectant that I would abandon my charge to launch an investigation. Monastic type, a believer, must have been cloistered too long in the mountains.

Hobs view other races as nothing more than tools—implements to be enslaved, cowed, and put to work. If only she new what a Hob thinks of her people. Halflings are especially prized as slaves for their agile skills and the ease of breaking them to the collar.

Would have been an easy case. Only hours earlier some long-haired oaf and his band of sell-swords demanded bounty for the poor bastard. Told him flat, “Even if there was a bounty on Hobgoblins, this season, one is still expected to bring proof of death.” Loud were his objections but like most cowards they were short. Omitted that knowledge to the Halfling. My job is to keep the peace and killing a hobgoblin isn’t exactly discouraged around these parts. Didn’t do any good though the grease-bag decided he’d take his bounty out of the other band of mercenaries the Halfling was a part of, some flashy dagger. Valuable too would fetch a fine price. I could see why the Paladin wasn’t willing to part with it.

A tussle ensued that quickly exploded into an all out melee. Those Jenkin boys aren’t getting any prettier. Still fighting over the same broad that left town years back. I don’t even think she ever spoke to either of them. Personally, I’m not against an honest brawl, why in my youthful waste… It was looking like it was going to blow out after the Halfling bird nutted Honnerhock… or, whatever his name was. Then, POW! Now, I’ve seen paladins smite evil before but, it is always a sight to see. Had to put a stop to it right then and there before it turned bloody.

Took the vinegar right out of those despicable Banner bastards. The Taldan’s say, “Sick the wolf on the tiger and the hunter’s work is done.” This unfortunately was not the case. The centre piece of the exhibit, Chelish King Haliad III, was on fire. Ironic, that. I was starting to think this other group of rabble was alright what with one of them avoiding the brawl all together. But that uppity Halfling squaw lead the verbal strafing in an attempt to blame the injured party. It wasn’t Krane who started the melee. What was the skinny, arrogant, bookworm to do? Shoulders like a trout that one. Strong breeze would put him over. That table he hid under is probably the only thing that kept him alive.

I confiscated the dagger and sequestered both groups in separate windowless rooms upstairs. Ostler was good enough to wave the fee. Such a friendly chap. Keeping that place running like a top. I’ve always been curious why he didn’t open up a larger Public House on one of the more major routes through the Arthfell. Even opened up some reserved stock to comfort that pompous, over entitled professor. There’s a reason shrouding went out of fashion it’s morbidly depressing. A simple rendering of a person, while they were still alive, along with a token is much more respectable than an imprint of their naked, desiccated corpse. Rendered by magic; what a waste of resources.

Doesn’t feel right punishing all these people due to the destruction of an over priced rag. If it’s half as valuable as Krane claims, in accordance with the law, he has to be compensated for the loss. I hope an answer to this problem presents itself while I dream. The hour is late and I need my rest.

Amarro #2

dammit, stupid girl, why’d she have to go do that? she had the best way to take care of that vine with those flaming rocks of her’s and if she had just stayed back with the rest of us… we could have pruned it back in plenty of time to keep the kid safe… but then she drops the sling and goes rushing in with glory in her eyes and i’m too far away to stop her…

damnit… who knows how hard this is hitting the kid, i doubt he’d even seen a corpse in the street before, let alone someone get snuffed out right in front of him. As for Chartreaux… she seems to be handling it fine but i don’t know how to read those eyes of hers so i can’t help her.

weren’t even allowed the closure of a burial for Tomoe cause that wolf dragged her off into the forest before any of us were recovered. well maybe this will teach those two something that i couldn’t have taught them… being the hero is just the fastest way to end up in the ground under a rock.

Tomoe's Journal, ??? - 01
entries made up until her death

=Translated largely from Tien, these are excerpts from Tomoe’s journal. Entries are spaced by who knows how much time; she seemed to be more interested in simply writing. There are earlier entries, but they’re mostly terse and filled with rambling, poorly-worded sentences about what she’d been learning that day. Her entries made within Absalom are mostly where these excerpts begin, and where this log starts, though some is omitted simply for brevity=
… This land is kind of warm at this time of year, I wasn’t expecting that. I suppose that it’ll be easy enough to adapt to, I got used to living in the mountains after all, it’ll be nothing to re-learn living in the lowlands. The trip in the hold of that ship was interminable, and Roukan doesn’t seem to be doing well since then; I’m not sure what he’s sick from, but perhaps it is simply weariness? Exhaustion? It’s been a few weeks though, and I don’t understand doctor-work; less about animal doctoring. He’d carried me many, many miles out of that country, but I wonder if he’s fallen ill with something worse? I don’t really know what to do here, though the crew had given me some fresh bandages for his paws, and he is so quiet, constantly looking at me like he’s expecting me to say something…

=she seems to be noting days, but it’s still not clear if it’s been since something, or simply the passage of time. Some time later, she picks up again=
… Roukan’s muscles are finally seeming to mend. I suppose it’s a weariness that went deeper than I’d expected, though I’d only been concerned with my own well-being, and he’d been careful to not show any weakness, I’ve realized in hindsight. He’s been stronger than he should have been, I’m sure he knew this was hard for me. I wonder how he’s been handling it? His kin all fled into the wild, and his father was struck down just before sensei died… I need to consider his needs, too, he’s never even left those mountains. I suppose we’re both out of our element here, in this strange land…. everyone speaks so strangely here, but occasionally I will hear a familiar accent, or someone simply speaking Tien, and my heart will start racing. I need to get out of this city. I need to find another school and continue my training. I need to go to ground and get some support; but where do I go? The embassy?? No, I need to look at the schools in the city and ask around another school to train at, and to get some proper treatment for Roukan within my means (which are so meager), and some proper food, and another sensei to… sigh. Yes, many things to do.

=she goes several entries rambling about current events, talks about Absalom at length, the people she’s seeing, some of the memories she’s trying to process, and so forth. Several pages are torn out, then…=
… I still don’t understand how to open sensei’s puzzle box, almost a year after leaving. I don’t even know if he intended it for me, but it was there among his things, and I was in such a rush, I just grabbed what I could, eyes clouded with tears, dust, and blood as they were… anyways, I suppose that answer is unknowable until I open it. Is this a final lesson from him? Everything is so confusing, I feel like I’ve been pulled away from him before I was prepared…

=another entry that could be a few days later=
… I’m glad to be out of that city. Every city I’m in reminds me of him, of that life, and I found myself constantly on edge. I slept soundly for the first night in who knows how many weeks last night, out under the stars. I would dream of the experiments sometimes while in that city, of the screams of some of his victims. I… I don’t know if it was right to just… leave like I did, but what could I have done to him? To try to bring him to justice? He was just too powerful. I can only imagine what’s happened since. That he was allowed to operate there simply because he was rich, that he would buy slaves and conduct his experiments in pretty much public eye… he mocked justice, but I will return and exact true retribution on him, I swear this. I must… I recall passing by the slave district in that city a few days ago and just feeling it all in my heart, waiting there under the surface… I wonder if any of them will be going to Tien… to him?

Again, I am so glad to be out of there. Sensei spoke of finding quiet within, to finding pockets of peace, but I never understood. He was so patient, I realize now… I must look forward to my studies, I am so pleased to have found another temple, it will be good to be out in the mountains, among others of my order… but will it be enough alike to be calming? Will my next sensei be anything like him? Am I clinging to that memory? What would he say about that… well, heh, I know what he would say. He would scold me and make me run water for the rest of the day, then hand me the book when I’m almost too weary even to lift it, and tell me to study until I no longer considered such things… I’m so glad I brought that beat-up old thing with me. Sometimes, reading until the candle flickered out or sleep found me first, I found my weary brain wondering if he was even a man, but I suppose I found out when they found us… he seemed to move through them with an unnatural grace, but he bled just like anyone else and…

=there are some pages torn out, and some time seems to have passed before another entry was made, but the script is clearer, and there are a few words in Taldane=
… My training these last few months has been so hectic that I haven’t hardly had time to put pen to page, but tonight as the others are resting I figure I’ll make note of the passage of time. I’m learning to handle the quick speech of these Andoren students as the time is passing, even picking up some of the local colloquialisms during my instruction, so that language barrier has been something that I’m chopping down with diligence. No halflings among the students at the temple, but one of the senseis is so old that he very well could be, the height he’s shrunk to! He’s so harsh, though… kind of reminds me of sensei, but he’s so old that his skin seems to be tree bark! … Speaking of bark, Roukan is doing so much better, he runs around with some of the other, bigger wolves (there’s very few of them here though, mostly boars and bigger animals, and none as small…) like he’s a pup again. I’m glad to see him in such good spirits, and the other students are so amazingly skilled, it’s almost like seeing my sensei show me the first movements again, but there’s such differences between his style and this school’s that they’ve taken it upon themselves to practically retrain me from the ground up. I’m very pleased that they’ve asked to be shown his style as well, that it could be worked into their curriculum, I know he would be proud that I’ve passed on his legacy and shown his style to others…

=another page is torn out, and the following begins mid-sentence=
… a sort of mission abroad now. Hm, there doesn’t seem to be much to it, but I wonder why I must be the one to go? Sensei Berenfoodle wouldn’t tell me much that was helpful (he rambles on so much!), but it is my first time OUT out, and I can tell Roukan is itching to go, from what he picks up from me. He’s very clever, and seems to be learning more than just how to fight from the other animals and the senseis. He’s always following me around when I seem to be leaving, looking dejected when it’s simply to gather some water or something in preparation, but soon enough he’ll be carrying all of the gear. We’ll see if he’s that excited then!

=she makes note that it’s four days later that she’s made this entry=
… Hmph, what can be said of this turn of events? While in Oregent I caught a rather beautiful woman who was taking great care to hide a set of horns on the top of her head trying to rob a young, rather foolish-looking boy in full-plate who didn’t even have fuzz on his chin, but he seemed like he was more just pleased with her having been talking to him, victim of a con or not! As I made, perhaps, a bigger deal out of it than was necessary, some smooth-talking halfling man came up and began to try to… what, exactly? He simply made things more complicated than they already were, getting the boy to work for him, and “placing the ravishing blah blah blah” in MY care, until she explained that blah blah blah… ugh. This is why I lived in the mountains. These people… and this halfling man; this… Amarro! …. I can’t wait to get back to the monastery.

… Well, it’s interesting nonetheless. I’ll need to keep an eye on my things and what they’re up to, clearly. I guess I can’t just keep to myself this time… perhaps that is why sensei chose me for this job? Perhaps he’s trying to get me to be more comfortable out among people? Hmph. At least, here in the candlelight, with Roukan’s soft breathing, I have found the time to relax. It is good to be out and abroad, and these people will be an interesting diversion on the way back to… well, wherever their paths diverge from mine, I suppose… maybe I’ll stick with as many of them as I can for as long as possible so that I don’t get anxious…. I’ll consider it training, too. How’s that Taldane expression I heard Amarro mention go? Shooting two birds…?

Letters to Irori

Varro would see journaling as a waste of time better spent sleeping but he does pray, often. His “journal entries” will actually be his internal monologue to the gods of the Pathfinder Pantheon as part of his time spent in meditative states. Mostly, he attempts to curry favour and affirm gratitude through promises of offerings. Although, currently he has committed himself to the path of Irori he knows all the gods are worthy of respect and worship.

Daily Affirmation
“Irori guide my idle hands to honourable pursuits. May I hone my strikes to the standard of Cheu Chem. May my mind, body and spirit accept the discipline of your teachings.”

Recent Events
“Desna I have begun travelling again; show me this pleases you. Send me no more dreams of the disturbing past but of a more dignified, upright and wealthy future upon the path of Irori.”
“Calistria watch over… What’s her name from ‘The Rouge Lady’… The one that you have blessed with a distinctive glow. I look forward to worshiping at many of your temples on the uncertain road ahead.”
“Gorum why do you pull me from the path of perfection with temptations to my ego? Have I not shown you enough blood this moon? I hope I have not displeased you. Trying to kill the Half-Orc did not seem proper. I will sunder my next opponent’s flesh as an offering to sate your desire of my battles.”
“Cayden Cailean thank-you for your blessings of resolve and swaying Pharasma to not make me a martyr over spider whelps. Upon completion of our tasks I will procure a keg of fine ale for the first temple bearing your namesake.”
“Irori thank-you for placing the next step in my path before me. The problems of this small frontier town offer many opportunities for me to expand myself and balance my scales of past deeds. I will walk this path for as long as it pleases you. When I am worthy take me to sit at your side.”

Leon #3

The two new additions to our party have made me realize something, no one else loves truth, justice and righteousness nearly as much as I do. It is more than likely that I am the only good member of the party. Not only that, but one is the epitome of undecided, true neutral. TAKE A STANCE WILL YOU!?! Something seems off about the other one but I cannot put my finger on it. Perhaps after this adventure I should set out for a new group of adventurers. I aspire to be a hero, but my comrades are more likely to become villains. I will finish what I started here, but then I must bid the party adieu.

Also, enough with the barfights already! They are growing increasingly violent.


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