Pathfinder Narrative – The Shadow Clock

Back from the Mill The sounds of the mill had stopped, aside from the creaking of the great water wheels below.  On the top floor of the now corpse-ridden building the party stood over a dead elf and his deceased henchmen.  Raoul walked over to the bleeding corpse, laying his hand on Oggrash as he passed to relieve the orc from his rage-induced fatigue.  After pulling off the twisted spiral flesh mask the dead elf wore, the paladin was able to see the face of the man who had been hell-bent on the party’s death. “I think this guy might have been important around here.  I think his name might be Ironbriar?  Justice Ironbriar sounds familiar…” Patrick’s eyes widened a bit as he heard Raoul speak.   The sorcerer stepped close enough to verify that the dead elf was in fact one of the Justices of Magnimar.  While Patrick considered what the killing of a Justice might entail for his future Oggrash walked into the office in the back of the room. Inside the walls were covered with the tanned and stretched faces of numerous people, thirteen once Ogg finished counting.  Just the skin of the faces, each in a particularly Continue Reading →

Pathfinder Narrative – The Seven’s Sawmill

On the Road Garus was preparing to leave Sandpoint and begin the ride to Magnimar.  He’d decided to wait a day after Raoul, Vinder and Oggrash left.  Partly this was to spend some time in wild spaces around Sandpoint rooting out any remnants of the ghouls from Aldern Foxglove, but mostly it was to get away from the overly optimistic paladin and the dour half-orc.  They were good companions in a fight, but a bit tedious around town.  Garus was not overly fond of most creatures that walked on two legs.  The implications of Foxglove Manor pointed toward a longer journey with a group, so a day off was a welcome opportunity for the druid to find the patience to deal with people once he got to Magnimar.   After a day spent roaming the nearby farmlands and dealing with the occasional stray ghoul, Garus spent the night in the Tickwood, east of Sandpoint.  The druid had returned to the outskirts of Sandpoint and was saddling his horse in preparation to head south-west on the Lost Coast Road when a large, slightly green tinged man in a dusty traveling coat rounded the corner of stable and made for Garus himself.  Garus Continue Reading →

Pathfinder Narrative

Note:  I’ve been playing a Pathfinder game for a few months and decided to start writing up the play sessions.  This is my first attempt.   Putting the Dead to Rest A weary band of adventurers rode in to the gates of Sandpoint as the lowering sun lit the sky with fire.  The red light highlighted the dried blood and sunken eyes of the party.  Foxglove Manor and the caverns below had presented an ordeal not only of steel and spell fire, but also of the mind.   A barbarous orc, a dusty jacketed man, a druid, his bonded gorilla, and a rogue bristling with tiny hilts retreated to their lodgings at the Rusty Dragon to rest.  A paladin strode off to his rooms at the Savah’s armory.  Guards went to alert the sheriff that the bedraggled Heroes of Sandpoint were back, all alive, but looking worse for the wear they had endured. The paladin arrived first in the Dragon’s dining room some time after sunset.  Sherriff Hemlock was already there, anxiously waiting for the others to rise from rest or prayers.  Not long after the paladin settle in to wait with Hemlock the rest of the band made their way Continue Reading →