Steven Westiron
((
*roll* 1d100 + 7 -25 = 71))
With a bit of effort, Steven gets the barrow moving again, and they make their way into Shell Street. It’ll take some fancy work to get through here safely, though. The other two teams are close behind, and the crowd cheers at the close race behind run.
((
*roll*: 1d100 +7 – 40 = 66))
With Jared shouting out warnings for the dangers and challenges ahead and Steven’s balance and reflexes, they put Shell Street behind them quickly. Up ahead, the street makes a gentle turn onto Junker’s Way. They need to negotiate the turn, and then into the final stretch.
The two farmers manage to keep up with Steven, but the Twins come to a halt as they run into a pothole, barely managing to keep the barrow upright between them. They fall behind, and it’ll be a miracle if they manage to catch up in the final stretch.
((
*roll: 1d100 +7 – 10 = 76))
By now, Jared and Steven are functioning like a well oiled machine, taking the corner at speed and making it look easy. In the distance, the finish line can be seen at Junker’s Edge.
The farmers are right behind Steven, and the crowd cheers as the two race forward, neck and neck.
((
*roll*: 1d100 + 7 = 66))
Steven’s legs burn from the exertion, but the finish line is in sight. One final effort will be enough to get there, and Jared yells at him to keep going, the farmer’s are edging past them!
((
*roll*: 1d100 + 7 = 95))
Steven sees a groove in the way that looks perfect at the last moment, and easily maneuvers the barrow into it. At the last moment, the farmer’s barrow veers to the left, and while they manage to correct themselves in time to avoid an accident, the damage is done.
Steven and Jared sail across the line a second ahead of the second place team, to the resounding cheers of the crowd at the close race they witnessed. Gorvi hustles over and slaps Steven on the back.
“Well! That was a hell of a race! And according to my hourglass… 56 seconds!”
He turns and roars to the crowd as he raises one of Steven’s hands in the air, and one of Jared’s with his other hand. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Our new racing champions, and a new time to beat… 56 seconds!”
The cheering is deafening as the other participants come over and congratulate the two of you. “It’s been a few years since someone’s beaten the record, so the prizes have accumulated a bit. Each of you can choose one, so take your pick.”
- A pouch with 50g in gold and silver
- A potion of Cure Light Wounds
- A potion of Mage Armor
- A grimy set of studded leather armor – Gorvi says it’s one of Larz’ finest creations, and that’s saying something (masterwork quality)
There are two pouches of money, and Jared grabs one quickly – he definitely has no aspirations of adventuring, and he’s quite grateful for his sudden windfall.
After selecting your prize, you two are led over to the edge of the cliff, where fishing poles are set up. Down below is a large container filled with crude cutouts of goblins with hooks attached to each. The other contestants are there, and a crowd of watchers.
Gorvi looks around with a grin as he explains the game. “Now, everyone knows that we dump out the town’s junk onto Junk Beach – reason its got its name, right? Now, we all know that the goblins are down their stealing junk during the night – not a lot we can do about that, and hey, it was junk. But then again, one man’s junk is another man’s treasure… and sometimes there are some real treasures to be had. The winners each get three chances to fish in the barrel. Maybe you catch a goblin, maybe you catch something good – it’s all down to luck. Second place gets two chances, third place gets one, and for the fourth… well, better luck next time, right?”
Before each of your attempts, you’re allowed ten seconds to look into the barrel and try to spot something shiny before he make your fishing attempt. Since you can’t see where your fishing line is going, you have to hope you cast it in the right general area.
((
*roll*: Perception 1 – 1d20 + 8 = 15.
*roll*: Attempt 1 – 1d100 + 15 = 24))
((
*roll*: Perception 2 – 1d20 + 8 = 17
*roll*: Attempt 2 – 1d100 + 17 = 60))
((
*roll*: Perception 3 – 1d20 + 8 = 24
*roll*: Attempt 3 – 1d100 + 24 = 72))
Steven’s attempts become better and better, but his first two casts land him only goblins. On his last attempt, sweat beads his brow as he carefully tugs on the line, the weight on the end feeling different then the times before. Indeed, he pulls up a bottle of dark, viscious liquid. Gorvi gingerly hands it to Steven.
“Glad that didn’t fall off. Alchemist’s Fire… nasty stuff, it’s amazing what Podiker, the town alchemist will throw in the trash sometimes.”
The other make their casts – one of the farmers manages to pull up another bottle of alchemist’s fire, which he receives with a resigned shrug. “It’ll make starting a fire easier.” He says philosophically.
Steven gains a bottle of Alchemist’s Fire, as well as whatever prize he chooses above
Author
Topic: Let’s Play Pathfinder: Rise of the Runelords – Chapter 1: Burnt Offerings (Read 89776 times)