With Rene at the DM helm, the players were:
We began the adventure on a ship full of scoundrels, escorting an elven lord across the sea. A sudden raid by 4 aquatic elves was quickly dispatched; however, we discovered that in the confusion, our charge had been daggered in his bed. The investigation was on!
Our investigation proved…challenging. Hampered by shitty die rolls, we Keystoned from one suspect to the next, often violently spurned by those we attempted to question. Our Chelaxian smooth talkers couldn’t even convince the ship’s harlot to bed them, despite offers of coin. Our efforts proving fruitless, and without even a primary suspect, we returned to the deck, and were suddenly beset by a fearsome squall.
Immediately after weathering the storm, the first mate and the ship’s cleric ambushed us, attempting to overwhelm us while we were still staggered by the storm. Proving that we were far more proficient with cold steel, we quickly turned the tables, and discovered that the first mate (whom we had failed to interrogate) was the man behind the plot.
After reaching our destination, the elf lord suddenly appeared, as alive as can be, and admitted that he sends magical clones of himself to do business in his stead. At least we were paid for our trouble…