Of Rats And Redheads

Our second Pathfinder game kicked off with a bang — more goblins, more chaos in Sandpoint. We arrived in time to save Aldern Foxglove from some gobbos he should have been able to handle himself. Turns out he’s a big deal noble from down south with some rats in his basement — he slummed with us that night, took us on a boar hunt the next day, and flirted with Haywire instead of Amrudrel (the cad!). He actually wore out his welcome pretty fast, but he gave us horses and it’s nice to have a contact in the upper crust.

Aldern Foxglove


Aldern Foxglove, cad and bounder

The night of the goblin raid was spent at the Rusty Dragon, where we witnessed some family drama between Ameiko Kaijutsu, the inn’s proprietor, and her father, Tsuto Kaijitsu, a Level Ten Blowhard (of whom Amrudel may have made an enemy, after loosing a Grease spell under his feet at a moment of maximum pomposity). It was a great night, actually, as our gobbo-slaying exploits had made us local notables — food and drink were on the house, and room offered for a week. We told tales of our victory, with Roog in the middle of the slaughter, severed goblin heads bouncing to the four corners of the compass while the critically impaled body of a goblin commando twitched on his spike shield.

who can blame me?

Shayliss is trouble … but she’s the kind of trouble you want

Ah, poetry … and that might have been what attracted a busty redhead named Shayliss to the table, with some shaggy dog story about rats in her basement (again with the rats). Off she went with Roog to slay said rats, and in her basement one thing led to another, and to another, and finally to Roog getting laid out stiff by Shayliss’ shop keeping father, Ven Vinder. Poor Roog woke up hogtied and it might have gone poorly for our boy had the party not intervened, stiffened in numbers and resolve by two new friends from the tavern, the singed sorcerer Pyro, and the lawful stupid paladin, Spam. Roog would take the whole episode to heart, and later returned with a horse as an offering to the old man, to start off on a fresh basis … which got him in the door, and invited to tea, but picking his nose and farting in the fireplace put Shayliss off her lunch, and so went poor Roog’s shot at red-headed bliss (and also, his horse). Live and learn.

Mummy Momma

not quite the mummy we got to fight, but a guy can dream, can’t he?

Away from town we had our share of action, too, delving into a desecrated tomb to uncover clues at behalf of Abstalar Zantus, the top cleric in town. Someone stole the body of the prior … eh, Prior … and we were none the wiser after making that discovery, but did acquit ourselves well against the sundry skeletons and the rotting mummy on display. Against the mummy, especially, Roog was able to reclaim a bit of his romance-wounded pride, fully occupying the attention of the shambling horror while lesser heroes quailed in terror, then flanking the damn thing just in time for Haywaire to put paid to it. Fighting defensively rules!


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