At the end of my last Pathfinder session, Renka, Branwen, Lini, and Nyra had just left Granna Veil’s cottage when Elric the Merchant, accompanied by four thugs, stopped them in the street. Elric was determined to take Renka’s magical shamisen, resorting to force if necessary.
To read the last installment of my Mapmakers Folly Pathfinder 2e Campaign, click here.
To read from the very beginning, click here.
Scene 24, “The Merchant’s Ultimatum: Renka’s Shamisen in Peril”
The sun drops below the horizon, Willowshades street is in silence—no vendors shouting, no carts creaking, only the smells of meals cooking drift through the air. Renka the Kitsune bard brushes her shamisen lightly behind her back, her fingers gently touch the strings, weaving a melody that turns heads. Elric the merchant steps to block her path, flanked by four rough-looking thugs.
Elric the Merchant (smirking):
“It’s a fine instrument you’ve got there, fox. Rare wood, delicate strings… worth more than your life, I’d wager. Hand it over, and maybe you walk away with your tail intact.”
He leans in, voice low and sharp, eyes glinting with menace. His thugs spread out, blocking escape routes. The one or two people in the street senses trouble and begin to drift away.
Renka’s heart skips, but her allies—cleric, ranger, druid—watch silently from a few paces back.
Elric snaps his fingers, “Well? Don’t make me ask twice.”
Renka hesitates, fingers trembling as she loosens the strap of her shamisen. She lifts it slowly, eyes downcast, every movement deliberate. The merchant grins, reaching out greedily.
Elric the Merchant:
“Smart girl. You’ll live longer this way.”
• Renka the Kitsune bard rolls deception, +5, die roll = 8, so 13. Merchant rolls perception, (+6), die roll 6=12.
• The merchant believes she’s complying. This means Renka can act without the merchant expecting it—effectively granting her a surprise round.
• Renka uses her shamisen as an improvised weapon (1d4 bludgeoning, -4 penalty to attack roll), but risks damaging it (if she rolls a natural 1 or critical hit, the shamisen may break).
Renka lifts the shamisen slowly, as if surrendering it. The merchant’s greedy fingers twitch toward the polished wood. Then—CRACK! —the instrument arcs like a war club, strings screaming as they strain under the force of Renkas swing.
Renka (cold and clear):
“You should have asked thrice.”
The shamisen whistles through the air, missing the merchant by inches. His grin vanishes, replaced by a snarl.
Merchant (spitting):
“You little fox—kill her!”
The thugs fumble for their weapons, but the bard’s companions surge forward like a tide. The ranger’s sword flashes through the air, the druid’s fingers curl with primal energy, and the cleric’s holy symbol gleams in the sunlight.
The street erupts into chaos—shouts, steel flashing.
The merchant snarls, fumbling at his belt as the crowd scatters. His fingers close around a dagger, and with a hiss of steel, he lunges at Renka, aiming for her ribs.
“You’ll pay for that, fox!”
• Damage: 4 points → Renka takes 4 HP damage.
The dagger flashes in the sunlight and bites into Renka’s side. Pain flares hot, and her breath catches as crimson stains her tunic. The merchant sneers, twisting the blade free.
Merchant (snarling):
“That’s what you get for playing games, fox!”
The thugs roar in approval, weapons scraping free—but the bard’s companions are already moving.
Initiative is with Lini the Druid, she has tangle vine cantrip which takes two slots to cast, and aims it at a thug. Her spell DC is 15, thugs AC 16. Lini rolled 14 +9 spell attack, 23 against AC 16. Success. The target takes -10ft circumstances penalty to movement for two rounds.
The vines lash out like living whips, wrapping around the thug’s legs and boots. He stumbles, snarling, as the green tendrils tighten, dragging at his stride. The crowd gasps as the thug hacks at the vines with his blade, but they cling stubbornly.
“You’ll not run from nature’s grasp,” Lini growls, her eyes gleaming with primal power.
Merchants reflex is +2, he rolls 10, so 12 against Renkas 15, he takes 2d4 (5 hits) electricity damage.
The thugs move in next. Each take a move action, all four close in with their cudgels. They each get one attack. One attacks Droonami, Lini’s snow leopard, rolling 16 against AC 18, no damage. One attacks Lini, 6 against AC 18, a miss, one attacks Branwen the ranger, 3 a miss, one attack Nyri the cleric 15 against AC 15 a hit for 3 hits.
The street is chaos now—vines writhe across the cobblestones, lightning crackles in the air, and cudgels swing wildly. The merchant staggers, smoke curling from his singed tunic, while his thugs close in like wolves. One club smashes into Nyri’s shoulder, drawing a sharp cry, but the others strike only air as the party braces for retaliation.
Droonami explodes into motion, a blur of white fur and muscle. His claws rake across the thug’s chest, tearing fabric and flesh alike. The man howls, staggering back—only for the snow leopard’s jaws to clamp down on his arm with bone-crunching force. Blood spatters the cobblestones as the thug wrenches free, barely dodging the final snapping bite.
“Stay away from my companion!” Lini shouts, her voice sharp as the vines still writhing at her feet.
Branwen whips her short sword free in a flash and drives it toward the thug’s side. The blade bites shallowly, drawing a thin line of blood as the thug snarls and squares up for more.
“You’ll regret that,” Branwen hisses, eyes locked on her foe, “You picked the wrong street.”
Combat Round 2
The merchant snarls, desperation twisting his face. He lunges at Renka with a flurry of dagger thrusts, steel flashing like fangs.
“Die, fox! Die!”
But Renka dances back, tails flicking, her shamisen still clutched tight. Each strike slices only air, sparks flying as the dagger scrapes the cobblestones. The merchant’s breath comes ragged now—his confidence shattered.
Lini snaps her gnomish fingers, sparks dancing like fireflies. She points at the thug, and in an instant, his tunic erupts in flames. He screams, staggering back as smoke billows from his body, the stench of scorched leather and flesh filling the street. His cudgel clatters to the ground as he collapses, writhing in agony.
“Burn for your greed,” Lini whispers, her eyes glowing like embers.
The other thugs freeze, horror etched on their faces—their confidence shattered.
Nyri raises her holy symbol, shadows swirling like ink in water. She whispers a prayer to the void, and reality bends—a ripple of darkness lashes toward the thug. For a heartbeat, his form twists unnaturally, bones creaking—but then he roars and shakes it off, muscles bulging as the warp fades.
“You cannot unmake me!” he snarls, gripping his cudgel tighter.
The snow leopard becomes a whirlwind of claws and fangs. With a savage roar, Droonami rakes his claws across the thug’s chest, then lunges forward, jaws crushing into his arm with a sickening crunch. Blood sprays as the thug screams—but the beast isn’t done. A final, bone-shattering bite sinks deep into his throat, silencing him forever. The thug collapses in a heap, lifeless, as Droonami snarls, fur bristling and eyes blazing with primal fury.
The remaining thugs freeze, terror etched on their faces. Even the merchant falters, dagger trembling in his grip.
Renka’s tails flick as her eyes gleam with mischief. She strums her shamisen once, a sharp, discordant note that ripples through the air like laughter itself. The merchant stiffens—then bursts into uncontrollable cackling, his dagger clattering to the ground as he doubles over, tears streaming down his face.
“What… what’s so funny?!” one thug shouts, backing away as the merchant wheezes and howls, his bravado shattered.
He manages to get l strike on her for 5 damaged.
Branwens attacker doesn’t make target and Nyras attacker does get his club on target but just causes 1 damage.
The thugs lash out in desperation, their confidence shattered. One manages to club Lini hard, drawing a sharp cry as the gnome reels back, smoke still curling from her last victim. Another thug swings wildly at Branwen, but the ranger sidesteps with a cold smile. Nyri takes a glancing blow, her eyes burning with divine resolve.
Behind them, the merchant is doubled over in hysterical laughter, dagger forgotten, while Droonami prowls like a demon of ice and fury, blood dripping from his fangs.
The tide has turned—the street reeks of fear and ozone, and the thugs know it.
Combat Round 3.
Branwen snarls, frustration flashing as her first swing misses. Lini with a swift motion, whips out her sickle, its curved blade gleaming like a crescent moon. She slices low, catching the thug across the thigh. Blood sprays as he collapses with a strangled cry, his cudgel clattering to the cobblestones.
“Stay down,” Lini growls, eyes scanning for the next threat.
Closing Scene.
The laughter dies in the merchant’s throat, replaced by ragged breathing and a bitter scowl. His fine clothes are scorched, his pride shattered. Two thugs lie bleeding on the cobblestones, and the other two scramble to drag them away, casting fearful glances at Droonami’s blood-streaked fangs.
The merchant spits on the ground, eyes locking on Renka with venomous hate.
“You think this is over, fox? Enjoy your music while you can. Next time… I’ll be ready.”
He turns sharply, limping after his men, the street in silence as the battered gang disappears into the maze of streets. The air still hums with magic and tension, but the fight is done—for now.
Renka’s shamisen gleams in the sunlight, untouched. The party stands victorious, but a shadow lingers: the merchant’s greed isn’t quenched. It’s only burning hotter.
Epilogue: Back at the Tavern
The tavern door creaks open, spilling warm light and the scent of roasted meat into the cool night air. The party steps inside, weary but victorious. Renka clutches her shamisen close, its lacquered surface gleaming like moonlight—beautiful, dangerous, and heavy with secrets. Her tails flick nervously as she slides into a corner booth.
Nyra murmurs a prayer, her hands glowing faintly as she moves from companion to companion, closing wounds with gentle warmth. Branwen leans her sickle against the table, eyes scanning the room for trouble even now. Lini curls up beside Droonami, running her fingers through his blood-streaked fur, whispering thanks for his ferocity.
Outside, the village stirs with life, unaware of the storm that passed through its streets. Tomorrow, the abandoned zealot awaits—a new shadow on the horizon. But for tonight, there is bread, ale, and the fragile peace of survival.
Renka plucks a single note on her shamisen. It rings clear and sweet, but in her heart, it feels like a blade. A blessing and a curse.
to be continued.
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