Sunday, December 3, 2017

Session Highlight


The newly minted starfinders leave the Drift Rock in their new vessel, the Sunrise Maiden, to return to Absalom Station. Unfortunately, another ship is lying in wait for them, ready to attack as soon as they are clear of the asteroid. The attacking ship is a scout from the Corpse Fleet, the renegade armada of Eoxian starships that has officially severed ties to. The Corpse Fleet is outlawed in the Pact Worlds.With this knowledge at hand, the crew made quick maneuvers to retreat towards the safety of the nearby armada that serves as Absalom Station's defense from hostile threats from space. The Sunrise Maiden, taking fire from the cairncarver, made a well placed shot into the hull of the undead ship, disabling the starships power core. The crew was now free of pursuit, leaving the drifting vessel behind, they continued on toward the station.

Xan's crew arrives back on Absalom station amid a dizzying swirl of fame, thanks to the countless video screens of Gevalarsk Nor's broadcast. News of the Drift Rocks ancient origins, opportunists are already maneuvering to find some way to profit off the discovery. Amid the buzz of reporters and onlookers, the explorers don't take their minor local celebrity status well. The starfinders manage to wade through numerous statements and autographs, retiring to their rooms but quickly.

After concluding findings with the Ambassador and the Society, a new mission is soon made available. A call comes in for Cassie from the crew's preferred contact within the Society, Chiskisk. “There is some good news. The Starfinder Society’s linguistic database recognized many of the symbols found on the Drift Rock, because this is not the first time they’ve appeared post-Gap. The bad news is that the source is… highly unreliable,” Chiskisk notes, as segments of their chitinous body scrape together in agitation. “All that we have about these earlier texts comes from Halkueem Zan nearly three centuries ago, and it seems that no published studies of those texts have appeared since. According to these records, Zan’s original findings were donated to the Qabarat University of Xenoarchaeology and Xenoanthropology on Castrovel shortly after his—“ The shirren pauses while contemplating how best to phrase the sentence. “—disruptive expeditions. Fortunately, the Society has numerous alumni from that university, and we can readily secure you a contact there and forward our personal recommendation to a few faculty members. Perhaps they can show you Zan’s notes and even take you to the original site so that you can search for more clues about whatever this Drift Rock once was.”

The nature of the device within the Drift Rock is indeed puzzling. A trip to the University on Castrovel may be an excellent opportunity to uncover an extraordinary secret, and the answer might both earn the group fame as explores and unlock hitherto undiscovered technologies that could better the Pact Worlds. The trip to the vibrant planet of sparkling blue oceans, continents blanketed in vividly green forests, and swirls of clouds, is cut short by a emergency transmission.

Chiskisk appears on the bridge's hologram. “Apologies, an assignment for you. This one is a little a different than others you might have received.” Themself pauses before explaining, “It’s an internal matter. You’re probably aware that after the Scoured Stars incident many of our colleagues elected to leave the Society. That is unfortunate, but not surprising. Hate to lose good field agents, but no one is conscripted into the ranks. Normally we wish them well and that’s that. In this case, the defector, former field agent Reynald Talbot, stole an artifact from the Lorespire Complex before departing. Theft is where the Society draws the line; we need you to get that artifact back. Unfortunately, Talbot left Absalom Station. An immediate investigation to determine the last known whereabouts is by tracking down some of his recent crew mates. We need you to seek his pilot named Livewire, who is interred at the ‘Sauna’—a prison colony on the volcanic moon Varos. Contact this prisoner, as she is our only link at this time to Talbot." Slouched in the pilot's chair, Xan lifts her head slightly, arms still folded in lazily comfort," What's the artifact?" Chiskisk antennae droop in explaining. "The answer is complicated because it’s actually two questions: what the artifact is and what Talbot thinks it is. We’re operating under the assumption that Talbot thinks he’s stolen an object from old Golarion called a philosopher’s stone. Legend has it that the stone could transmute matter, among other properties. What Talbot actually stole was recently re-cataloged as a charlatan’s stone. It does something similar, except the effect is a potent illusion and only temporary. We think ancient con artists used to make false gold. We want the stone back, it is not worth dying over, so be careful. Talbot’s not worth the expense of dragging back here, so you can do whatever you think is necessary with him. That said, you don’t have a license to go on a mass killing spree. Don’t make the Society look bad. The Society will, of course, cover your travel expenses.”

A course correction is made to the Sauna. This bizarre organic complex wildly contrasts the more pleasing Brethedan arcologies found within the swirls and eddies of the neighboring gas giant. Here, only the indentured or the foolhardy suffer Varos’ tidally heated hellscapes for a chance to mine the
moon’s spectacular gemstones. While the prison is safely above the moon’s surface, the extreme temperatures radiate upwards, heating the structure despite its distance and advanced organic
coolant systems. From this clammy complex, indentured prisoners descend upon the moon’s blistered surface as conditions permit. Inside the Sauna, prisoners endure strict discipline under the threat of exile to the inhospitable surface. Several communal areas provide the prisoners with the opportunity to roam freely amid a reek of flowers and sweat—a by-product of a bustling black market of deodorants, perfumes, and soaps. The prison staff is comprised solely of barathu guards who have adapted to the torrid climate with their race’s notorious bioengineering acumen.

The Sunrise Maiden arrives in orbit over the colony, a short communication ensues. Their host, a fawning barathu known as the Warden (LN combined barathu) directs them to a nearby floating landing pad. The instructions for the starfinders also include strict warnings to leave any armaments and contraband (such as food, toiletries, or anything else to tempt prisoners with) on their own ship.
The instructions go on to specifically note that credsticks are allowed into the complex, as the facility always accepts “donations.” Once docked, an organic bridge connects the pad to the structure itself. Xan, Twenty, Cassie, and Ketch disembark from their ship, extremely hot air (over 120 degrees Fahrenheit) blasts them, and while their armor should protect them for their jaunt towards the Sauna, it becomes evident that any prolonged exposure outside the prison is foolhardy.

A flotilla of four barathus—floating, iridescent masses of flesh with draping tentacle appendages—wordlessly greet the new arrivals and escort them to the nearby Warden’s office. The halls and rooms of the Sauna are entirely organic, comprised mostly of fleshy blue walls replete with pulsating green veins. Tunnels take odd angles, sometimes sloping up or down, which is a nuisance to humanoid creatures but not an impediment to the floating barathus. When the starfinders arrive at the Warden’s office, several hard, plastic chairs await arranged in a semicircle around a matching table. Opposite the table floats the Warden, an almost comical creature that looks like a dozen of the barathu guards mashed together into a floating mass of iridescent flesh and tentacles. The Warden telepathically offers several trays of a gray mush and glasses of an opaque, milky substance as “refreshments.” While these refreshments look unwelcoming, especially the drink to help cool off, the ever-present stench makes the idea of eating difficult. The Warden eagerly awaits the guests to sample his offered wares. They fail to accept this meal, displaying signs of obvious disgust of an assured bland meal amid the pungent odor. Amid an exciting squeal of flamboyant telepathic pleasantries from the Warden, communication was uncanny to translate between all of the organic gurgling and flesh warping consonants. Speaking as dignitary, Xan comes to learn that meeting with prisoners is forbidden. Yet the Warden puts out the suggestion of an arranged meeting, gesturing with one of its many tentacles, holding an empty credstick, and telepathically observing that “donations to our maintenance fund are greatly welcomed.” No one was willing to foolhardily donate a ridiculous sum of 2,500 credits. The Warden denies them access to Livewire. Xan's natural 20 garners admittance, albeit briefly, yet eternal is the friendship Xan made with the Warden this day.

Whereas the stench within the Warden’s office was bad, the stink in the common area is almost unbearable. Several half-naked, sweat-drenched workers of various species crowd around here. The barathu guards combine to form one larger, menacing amalgam creature, ensuring the PCs remain safe from confrontation. After several minutes traversing through this sweat-slicked region, the barathu guard amalgam stops at a table where a ysoki sits. The ratfolk constantly licks her paws uncomfortably while grooming her drenched and matted pelt. With the guard’s arrival, she looks up and acknowledges an unspoken communication between herself and the barathu collective. In an instant, the barathu collective splits into its separate entities and floats off in independent paths throughout the complex, leaving Xan alone with the sweat-soaked ysoki who looks up with cautious interest amid a timid introduction, “Hiya, the name’s Livewire. What can we do for each other?” Livewire soon learns of Xan's manhunt, knowing this information is something she can use to barter. The ysoki seeks comforts and does little to hide her recognition of the fact that her information on Talbot is valuable. Livewire makes known her desire in the Sauna’s most lucrative commodities: personal hygiene products. Xan went one step further by ensuring Livewire's tool belt would be sent back to her family for safe keeping while the ysoki finishes the rest of her interim. Livewire relates to the solarion what she knows. “He’s smart, capable, a bit brash, and a reasonable field agent. Talbot is also self-entitled and ambitious. After the Scoured Stars incident, he expected to be promoted to venture-captain, but the Forum felt he needed more time. He got angry. I think the theft is retaliation. Talbot caught a shuttle to the Akitonian city of Maro, so that’s a great place to start. Wealth is hard to come by on Akiton. The ex-Starfinder has a plan, and that plan involves gaining a large number of credits. Given Akiton’s unstable economy, such a surge should be identifiable for those who “follow the money.”


Outside the observation windows of the Sunrise Maiden floats Akiton, a world the color of blood, rust, and red clay. A thick shell of white caps both poles. The shuttle descends toward the planet, and a barely perceptible shift in gravity occurs as the ship’s artificial gravity begins to lessen and the planet’s natural gravity begins to take hold. From suborbital heights, a handful of small towns, large
complexes, and industrial sites that spew noxious fumes into the thin atmosphere surround the trench city of Maro. A spidery web of dirt roads scratched into the rust-colored ground by regular traffic connects these sites to the metropolis. Maro, the so-called City of Lights itself, comes into view
as the ship begins its final descent. The city occupies more of a vertical space than horizontal, built into a six-mile-long section of trench that is half as deep and a half mile wide. Entire neighborhoods and business districts are built into the walls, accessed by patio entrances. Lights, neon signs,
and holographic advertising bejewel either side of this urban canyon, while an active spaceport and industrial zones occupy the ground level. As the shuttle lands, it does so beneath the backdrop of an immense mural of brightly glowing neon-green graffiti that reads in Common: “Git Out! Planet’s Broke!”


Amid the gathering of information, the group meets with Rey, an akitonian, none to pleasant and all too curt. Intent upon selling his shit sticker. A dune buggy guaranteed to get them to the town of Tasch. That guarantee lies in one way travel, as Rey, with his southern charm, guarantees it won't make a return journey, sure to shit itself. Rey only offers to sell the shit sticker, and informs the group it is not available for rental. The starfinder come upon the knowledge that Akiton is generally lawless, except for whatever laws a local authority might impose. Akiton survives on trade and commerce. Strangers find loyalty hard to come by, especially in the big cities. Newcomers are consequently likely to be observed and watched, especially if an organization believes it can take advantage of the strangers. Without further insult or injury, they dust off in their spacefaring vessel toward Tasch.

A long dusty road, lined with single-story dwellings, runs through the town of Tasch. Some powered vehicles rest chained to their owner’s homes. A small general store stands near the center of town, illuminated by flickering white lights. Another building, full of locals, hosts a signpost that reads “Digger’s Dive”—clearly the town bar. Although the sun beats down on this desert town, its citizens meander around the bar in good cheer. Most are ysoki and humans, with the occasional lumbering fourarmed shobhad mingling among them.

Entering Digger's Dive, faint electric lights dangle from the ceiling, while the open sky is visible from cracks between the planks that serve as a roof. The floor is solid wood. The interior walls and ceiling supports are mud brick, the latter being carved in a rare attempt at ornamentation. The tavern is divided in two halves by an energy field with an opening on the northern end. The bar lining the
southern wall is open to either side, with a wall of half-empty bottles behind it. The tables are wooden and makeshift, but solid. The east end has square wooden platform about a foot above the floor. Two sets of double doors are built into the northern and southern walls on the west end, both ajar. A single closed door provides an exit behind the west end of the bar. Xan strides in bringing with her swirling eddies of dust that kick up the shanty. Patrons of the dive welcome the arrivals with a cadence of fitful coughs, trying to expel the red rust from their throats. Crackling ionization can be heard from the green energy field as it arrests the dust cloud from entering the more favorable room of clientele.

Xan sits at the bar and traces her view along the eclectic room and spots Indigo Jack across the way. She recognizes Indigo Jack as one of Talbots shipmates. Meanwhile, the rest of the starfinders huddle in the doorway for an insurmountable period of time. A shirren move his bar stool closer to Xan and casually introduces himself telepathically. "Greetings, I'm Philt, representating AbadarCorp." AbadarCorp is the largest corporate entity in the Pact Worlds.  The corporate representative goes on to explain how he recognized the minor celebrities and assumes they have a mutual interest in Talbot. "The charlatan’s stone means little to AbadarCorp; the corporation is far more interested in punishing Reynald Talbot for swindling them. Luckily for us, both AbadarCorp and the Starfinder Society have mutually achievable goals. AbadarCorp wants Talbot, and the Starfinder Society wants the charlatan’s stone. The Starfinder Society deserter approached corporate buyers in Maro with a new, alternative fuel for Drift engines. The fuel was purchased for analysis, and if it checked out, would have been evaluated as a new commodity on the galactic markets. To the chagrin of the buyers, the fuel reverted to common thasteron not long after the AbadarCorp ships made to depart Akiton’s orbit. The fuel was purchased on good faith and AbadarCorp does not tolerate outright fraud. I see you have already taken interest in my quarry at the far end of the room. I will allow you to handle the matter on my behalf. Should you need assistance, my vesk bodyguards and I are quite capable of lending a interoffice hand."

Xan makes an alliance with Philt and zeros in on Indigo Jack. A gravel voiced nuar speaks out during the ensuing dis-pleasantries between Xan and Indigo Jack. "Aw yeah, I gets to kill things, and it’s good ‘cause my murder thirst needs quenching. I don’t like this human very much." Chest rapidly falling, an expulsion of heavy and hot air from its bovine snout, "I’m gonna put that big lug in my crosshairs and I’d be in my rights to kill ‘em all!" "Xalak-don.. easy." Indigo Jack puts a hand on the albino minotaur, who just clutches his tactical cryopike all the fiercer.

A deep booming female voice slices through the bar. “Intruders! We know you’ve come to Tasch in search of our savior. I give you this one chance. Lay down your weapons and leave our town. You will not disrupt the salvation of Akiton, not when Reynald Talbot has come so close to saving our world! You have one minute to decide.” The realization of battle at hand, no amount of dissuading akitonians from this fight becomes evident. Akiton suffered an economic crash when the revelation of Drift technology rendered the numerous pre-Drift fuels mined on Akiton virtually worthless. Talbot has reigned in overwhelming influence in the mining town of Tasch.


The battle was long but clearly at hand with Philt lending aid to the fight when Xan called for it. The crew of the Sunrise Maiden exchanged fire with multiple targets about the dimly lit taven. Moving about the room was momentarily disorienting, having three times the jumping height and three times the normal weight. A burst of blinding light from above had everyone averting their eyes. As the scene refocused to clarity, shards of wooden planks rained down. Indigo had busted through the ceiling with such raw jumping power. Sensing Jack was attempting to escape, the solarion created a graviton event, violently pulling her back down and impacting hard amid kicked up dirt and scuffling feet.

This Is The End

Running Adventure Paths weekly, and campaigns that would span a year and a half. I say no more Pathfinder. I'm done with the broken mech...