Don't worry, Artie - we wouldn't leave you out of a fight for long, Calia responds with as much cheer as she can muster, offering her hand to help Artemis get up...or at least help him start to get up. Being so tiny had advantages...but there were drawbacks, too. I think Sariel might have been affected by Asar - he was acting weird, but Doreen says he'll get better if we take him to that fountain we saw before.
At Forest's concerned call, Calia rises and approaches the sarcophagus cautiously. Is it...is it usually open like this? Laird, did anyone tell you whether the sarcophagus was supposed to be open? She continues to move forward, carefully avoiding the blue mist as she stretches to her tiptoes to peer into the casket. He looks fine...well, I mean, great, after all these years...but there's a broken chain around his neck - like, a jewelry chain. It looks like something got grabbed off it. Laird, does Asar have anything that looks like it could be part of a necklace? Well, I mean - what's left of Asar, anyway.
Laird moves closer to the sarcophagus while signalling that Woodruff should wait before leaving with Sariel, I...no it was never mentioned. I would assume that Asar opened it?
Laird will stop at Asar's remains and look to see if there is anything there...
Is he cuter.
When he's dead?
I'll never tell.
Doreen steps forward.
"Out of the way. Please." The last word is added grudgingly.
She draws the cards and lays them out, inspecting them to see what magic rests within the dead man and the leaking mist.
Doreen detects that a gentle repose spell has been cast on Kassen's body and made permanent, presenting his body's decay even two hundred years later- the copper coins covering his eyes and traces of salt around the edge of the sarcophagus are evidence of that. However, it seems some apparition is flowing forth from Kassen's body, taking the form of a cloud of glowing, blue mist above his body, which begins to take shape as the witch observes...
Meanwhile, having been healed by Doreen's spell, Dimira begins to stir. She suddenly screams and swats at Forest, fighting against his grip, and it seems that she has not yet registered that it is not Asar who holds her. After a moment, she seems to come back to reality, and calms down- and buries her face in Forest's chest, bawling.
Laird notices that there was, indeed, a necklace of some kind around Asar's skeletal neck. It appears identical to the one around Kassen's, and just the same, whatever medallion hung there has been taken.
The glowing mist begins to coalesce into a humanoid shape above Kassen's sarcophagus. The face of a handsome older man with a fine beard and noble features forms, followed by broad shoulders clad in pauldrons and a cape. "Asar... Asar..." it whispers in a pained, rasping voice. "...the poor fool. Always blaming others... for his misfortunes..."
The spirit of Ekat Kassen himself seems to have been awakened. Its eyes seem to focus on the assembled young heroes, and a warm but weary smile crosses his ethereal features. "I feel the blood of my people flowing through some of your veins. You are strong, all of you. Asar Vergas was my greatest friend once, but jealousy and hatred consumed him and made him a monster. Despite his betrayal, I asked that he be kept close to me in death. But..." Concern and confusion come upon the ghost then. "...why were we awakened? A darkness... an evil... it came upon this place and defiled our crypts... seeking... something..."
Kassen groans in agony, the sound filling the crypt. Even the Everflame above seems to flicker in the wake of the sound. "Asar's betrayal... the Island... upon the great lake... Endless wealth... too much for any man to claim... I sealed the gates, and we split the key, just the three of us... entrusted it to us... I thought our friendship would protect its secret, but... Greed... and jealousy..." Kassen seems to be tortured by the memories as ghostly hands form and clutch at his skull. "Iramine... Iramine... He thought I stole her love... Asar, my dear friend... it was all my fault...! I knew he loved her... but I could never resist her... I sowed the seeds of his hatred, and the Island... caused that hatred to bloom..."
Finally, the haze clears, and Kassen returns to his senses, as they are. "You children have done much good here. You have crushed Asar's vengeance before it could spread beyond this tomb. You risked life and limb and braved great terrors to achieve your victory. You are all every bit the heroes I and my friends were, but far more pure... Please, accept these gifts."
Kassen's misty form dips back into the sarcophagus for a moment, and several scales pluck themselves from the old hero's armor and float into the air, moving on their own power toward each of the young heroes. In addition, a beautiful, gleaming shield, a sturdy-looking leather pack, and a glittering blue gem float up out of the sarcophagus.
"These items served me well in my travels," Kassen says. "Consider them payment for the blood you have shed in battle. The scales are my boon to you- may they bring you some of the luck that protected me in life."
"uhm noble Kassen... were your keys around your neck?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
I'm in the presence...of... Artie tries to stand but immediately falls to his knees. "What's this Island...milord? There was a fella what tried ta head out on the Gray Lake...thief we think...outta town bloke...was he tryin' ta get ta this Island?"
Artemis reaches into his pouch, thinking that he should offer something to the apparition. His hand closes around the alien, yet comforting, metal of the Pathfinder's compass Cygar had given him. The one that had belonged to his grandfather.
"The keys... yes, they were... three pieces... turned into amulets. One for myself... one for Asar... and one for Iramine."
Artemis recalls that there are no islands on the Gray Lake larger than a few feet across. Certainly nothing that could hold anything of note.
"The island... We ventured there, the three of us, on our final adventure together... The island in the center of Lake Encarthan, surrounded by a storm of evil that never ends... Where Tar-Baphon tried to lure down and trap the Last Azlanti before his defeat."
Everyone knows of Lake Encarthan, and some of you may have heard vague tales of an "Isle of Terror" located there. It is the stuff of the most grotesque horror stories any of you know.
At the mention of Lake Encarthan, Calia's face goes white as a sheet. She knew the tales of the horrors there - she'd told the tales of the horrors there, to kids sitting in front of a flickering fire begging for a scare. But the stories couldn't all be true...could they?
LArid chews on his lip a moment and the offers, Well I suspect were we to check the neck of fair Iramine we would find it bereft of its amulet as well. I dare to say the intention of this evil was to make the amulets whole to their original purpose...
Forest doesn't try to talk to the girl yet. Sometimes it was better to just cry for a while, so he lets her. The image of Kassen has raised more questions than he answered. "What does Asar have to do with this? Why did he come to life? And where did the other undead come from? Did you see who took your amulets? Asar didn't take them..." His gaze drifts to what was left of Asar. For that matter, why is Kassen here? This isn't natural, none of it.
Kassen's disembodied spirit takes on a troubled expression at Forest's words. "Indeed, Asar and I were awakened not by our own hands. Someone... attempted to plunder this tomb. Asar's furious spirit... was awakened by the disturbance of his rest. His evil seeped out and shook the foundations of this place. The one who awakened him... seems to still lie at the foot of Asar's tomb."
Kassen gestures again toward the eastern wing of the crypt, where the party sees, in the flickering glow of the Everflame, a shape lying on the floor. The Everflame seems to brighten and concentrate its light as if willed to do so by Kassen, revealing the shape to be the body of a man in gray robes, lying on his back, obviously dead.
"...I can feel my strength fading," Kassen says. "I must return to my rest... and yet... I cannot sleep fitfully, knowing that the amulets have been stolen. Iramine... could be in danger. Young ones, I again salute your bravery. Take comfort in the Everflame's glow. Though... I fear... your troubles may not be over... until the amulets have been recovered..." Kassen's spirit slowly fades from view, and its misty aura settles once more into its sarcophagus.
The speech had done nothing to allay Calia's nerves - her eyes are as wide as ever. So...so there's going to be more of these things rising? What if...what if they get to Kassen? What if...? Her voice trails off, her unspoken words thick in the stale air. Grabbing the lantern, she makes for the Everflame. Come on, guys - we've got we came for. The flame's here. Let's get it, get back, and get going preparing everyone -
Only then does she notice the outline of the dead man on the floor. Setting the lantern aside, she draws her dagger, brandishing it before her as she approaches the still figure.
Approaching the body, Calia realizes that the crypts in this wing appear to have belonged to Asar and his raiders; their sarcophagi are all opened. The dead body in the gray robe lies at the foot of Asar's crypt, lying on its back with bent knees. One could almost imagine Asar, furious at having been disturbed, rising from his grave and immediately strangling the invader to death.
Close enough now to make out the details, Calia notices the stench of rot; this man has been dead for at least a few months, matching the timeline of the bodies found by Gray Lake, in the frog chamber, and those that became the zombies in the previous crypts. The man's hooded face is hidden behind an eerie iron mask.
The body does not appear to have been tampered with after its death; its belt pouches and backpack appear to still contain a number of items.
Razmir, Calia calls out, still brandishing her long knife toward the body (can't be too careful). He's wearing a mask from the cult of Razmir - bloke who calls himself the "Living God", been gathering himself some followers up north...near Lake Encarthan. Pieces were beginning to fall into place...and Calia wasn't pleased. Looks like most of the ones who came died - this guy's been dead just as long as the guy near the lake, and the one with the frogs, and most of the zombies.
But if any of them managed to get away with those medallions...and they have to have gotten away, or we'd have found the medallions by now...we're right f~+@ed. Because it sounds like Asar's not going to rest until we get those amulets back where they belong. Throwing her caution aside, she kneels and begins to go through the bags and pouches still attached to the ripe body. Maybe they're in here...
Unfortunately, there are no medallions in the Razmiran's belongings. There are, however, some items of interest.
The first of these- tucked into his belt pouch- is a folded up piece of parchment. It appears to be a map of the area, from Kassen all the way down to the Crypt of the Everflame itself. Scribbled onto the map are the words "2 medallions- entombed w/ Asar & Kassen ???" in barely-legible handwriting.
Also revealed are a finely-sculpted ivory wand, a pair of bracers that emit a magical aura, a horn of some sort, a spellbook, and- count' em- 354 freshly-minted gold coins identical to the ones found on the man by the lake.
"So it's not over." Forest mumbles. He sets Dimira on the stairs going up and sits next to her. "Sounds like there's supposed to be some kind of treasure you can unlock with the medallions. And they've got quite the head start. We should head home. A few more days won't make a difference now. Maybe they already got their treasure and left." Part of Forest hoped the last sentence was true. Better that these murderers left the Fangwood. Most of him knew it wasn't that simple. And they still had to answer for their crimes. Asar could hardly be blamed at this point.
Head home?
Is it home?
Or is home a city,
Far away?
"We need to escort the nutter and the damsel back anyway." Doreen points out. "And the mayor should probably know what happened here."
LAird nods after Doreen, Should we still try to have Sariel drink from the fountain?
- - - -
Having collected all the remaining items from the slain Razmiran's person, and having gathered the magic items gifted to them by Kassen's generosity and Asar's defeat, the party realizes their task here in the Crypt is nearly complete. All that remains is to light the lantern and bring a piece of the Everflame back to the village of Kassen... the original mission they embarked upon.
The wholesome golden flame springs to life, glowing even more brightly as the old lantern is held up closer to it. The Everflame sparks and splits, the fire leaping of its own volition into the lantern. Its glow is warm and invigorating.
Dimira slowly calms down as the party leads her from the resting place of Kassen and Asar. The group makes their way cautiously back through the corridors, dragging along the unconscious Sariel. Upon reaching the crossroads of the lower level, they take time to bring the paladin to the blessed spring, and douse him in its purifying waters. Almost immediately, the dark circles around his eyes lighten, and color returns to his cheeks. He awakens, confused and weary, but thankful for being awakened from the "nightmares."
Back on the top level, the sound of rain beating down in the canyon outside becomes apparent once more. The party makes their way back toward the safe room where they left Roldare, and upon knocking upon the door, the maddened cobbler cracks it open, the tiny pig Proudsnout worriedly snuffling about at his feet. The sight of Dimira seems to wipe the fear and confusion from Roldare's face almost instantaneously, and the two siblings embrace- and Sariel snatches up Proudsnout, apologizing profusely to it. It is a happy moment. Dimira, too, seems strengthened by this, and as the party gathers the rest of their supplies and prepares to depart, she speaks up.
"Um... I'm sorry for my silence earlier," she says. "Asar... questioned me. He asked me how long he had been dead, asked me about the village, and... I told him. I was too scared not to. I told him others would be coming to help us, that they'd find him and defeat him, thinking that it would make him rethink what he'd done, but... instead, he put his minions to work reactivating the Crypt's traps. It was all my fault..." Guilt hangs over the young woman as she continues. "While I was there, I heard him ranting and raving. He said he had been awakened months ago. The man in the silver mask wasn't alone. There were two more like him, and several hired bandits, all working together. A few of them got away. He didn't know where they were from or where they were going, and he didn't care about them or the amulets. All he cared about was revenge. He said he'd raise a new army, and they'd get their vengeance on Kassen's Hold. He even wanted to find away to reanimate Ekat Kassen himself, though I don't think he knew how. Even if we hadn't come when we did and stumbled into all this, he and his skeletons would eventually have marched on Kassen- maybe with a whole army, by then." She stops herself just short of stating how this might all have proven to be lucky as she remembers those who died.
Gus the pack mule, waiting patiently for its masters, is loaded up with the party's winnings and remaining tools. The rain outside has lightened to a sprinkle, leaving only a thin stream running along the canyon floor outside; it seems safe enough to travel.
"Nothings your fault, Dimira. Not everyone is trained to handle an undead hero from the past". Forest assures her. "But if Asar isn't going to stop...how long till he comes back again and how do we stop him for good?"
We stop him for good by figuring out whatever in the Hells these Razmirans are up to, and how to stop it, get those medallions back, Calia replies to Forest's musings, clutching the lantern with the flickering Everflame in her hand. But for now...we gather up the bodies of the fallen, we get back home, and we warn Kassen. We get everyone prepared, double watches, start making supplies and weapons. And...
She glances at the ground, a trace of guilt in her eyes. ...someone's going to have to coordinate it, take charge. Someone who's fought these monsters before, who can work with people, who can help to keep morale up. You guys...might be figuring out the rest of this without me. You can handle yourselves, you don't need me...but home might.
Artemis remains quiet during the discussions. As they approach the surface he goes about collecting the dead folk from their village, bringing them outside the halls of Kassen and lining them up. Next he sets about collecting branches long enough to fashion a litter to bring the dead back to town for burial.
In the gloom of his efforts Artemis is coming to a decision.
Determined not to leave a single fallen Kassenite behind, the young heroes, bearing the Everflame and many treasures but still consumed by gloom, finish creating their makeshift litter and bear back with them to Kassen's Hold the bodies of the dead. If Asar does rise again and attempt to recreate an undead horde, he will have to find others to corrupt with his evil.
There is much to talk about after the group finally makes their way up out of Serpent Gorge and back into the Fangwood. Luck- or perhaps the intervention of Ekat Kassen's spirit- prevents any of the wood's hungry denizens from approaching the party too closely during the trek north. At camp on the first night, the howls of wolves are heard, but the beasts never show their faces- a miracle, considering the smell of the corpses.
On the second day, as the party passes by the same fallen tree where some of them encountered Holgast's illusory orcs the day they departed on their journey, the sound of hoofbeats reaches the ears of the party. A group of riders on horseback approaches and greets the party- led by Mayor Uptal himself, looking a bit uncomfortable atop his heavy old steed but filled with vigor and determination. Along with him are many of Kassen's best and strongest, including ranger Arnama Lastrid, Sir Dramott, and- notable in particular because he is an outsider- Cygar. While the rest of the riders are almost overcome with emotion at the sight of both the returning heroes and the dead they have brought back with them, Cygar remains at a distance, watching and observing with curiosity on his heavily-scarred face. As Mayor Uptal collapses in sorrow at the sight of his best friends Gerol and Vark laid out on the litter, Cygar pulls out a journal from his cloak and begins jotting down notes- keeping his eyes trained on the youths the entire time.
Arnama explains that Jenna and Damien had indeed made it back to town the previous night, and it was decided that some of the more experienced adventurers among the community would ride out to help. When asked what Cygar is doing there, she can only say that he insisted, and Mayor Uptal relented.
The party debriefs the leaders of Kassen, filling them in on the details of what happened. Some of this they have already heard from Jenna and Damien, but much of it comes as a shock to them. The young heroes' fears that Asar might rise again causes Mayor Uptal to declare that he must ride out to the Crypt and cleanse it of evil- but first, the anxious citizens of Kassen, tortured by days of grim rumors, must be placated and the ritual of the Everflame's lighting must be completed.
Together, everyone returns to town. What normally would have been a warm greeting and great jubilation are notably muted, especially as the bodies of the dead are carried through the gate. Nonetheless, the youths have returned alive, and with the Everflame- there is no denying that they have achieved a victory.
Friends and family rush forward to greet and thank and congratulate and offer their condolences. Some Kassenites seem to hang back, whispering among themselves warily, but most are relieved. Surprisingly, town outcasts Calia and Doreen find themselves met with rousing approval from the folk of the town, with smiles and looks of adoration turned in their direction.
That night, the traditional grand feast is held in their honor, as always occurs at the conclusion of the Quest for the Everflame. There is a distinctly somber overtone to the proceedings. This year, it seems many are drinking not just in celebration of another year's passing, but to forget the losses of their friends and family.
Laird comes back to town uneasily, having not been chosen to retrieve the Everflame but returning with it all the same. Laird avoids most of the folks and celebrates in quietude wondering what comes next. They had found a conspiracy of sorts, did he and the others then not have an obligation? For the night, he would let such matters fade. He urges Woodruff to find rest and respite in his home on the other planes. Laird finds a quiet corner at the edge of any celebration and simply watches, waiting for the next day and what might come next...
It could have been worse. A major disaster in the form of Asar's army had been averted and now they know some kind of larger threat is out there. Dimiria and Roldare were safe. A shame more couldn't be saved. Sariel would hopefully be ok. Time would tell, but Forest doesn't have time to wait around and see. He had to see about this masked god, regardless of what his companions choose to do. He tells his family of the events in the tomb and his plans to journey to lake Encarthan. They hadn't expected Forest back for a few weeks so that at least was a pleasant surprise for them. His mother doesn't want him to go, of course. His sister Melanie wants to go with, of course. Forest tells her she can't come because she's a girl, which goes over well and he wears a black eye to the dour celebration.
I've left
I've come back
And I know
This isn't my home.
The sudden outpouring of welcome and joy turns Doreen's stomach. People who called her names are suddenly her friends?
She doesn't think so. At least the people who went into the Crypt with her actually knew her. She slipped away from the party, heading back to her Great Aunt's cabin to pack.
"Time for me to go," She told the old witch. "I don't belong here."
He sits in front of the fireplace, staring up at his grandfather’s shield now above the mantle. Artemis had offered to work with master Ironhame to repair the new dents and scrapes it had acquired but his father had refused. He’d said it made the shield as much a part of all three generations as anything. Better to let it tell its tales for those to come afterward.
Artie had blushed at the thought of what that meant, but had reseated himself firmly back into his melancholy soon thereafter.
”I have to go, father”
”We know.”
”Am I up for this? Shouldn’t there be better sorts goin’ ta this fight?” Doubt and determination seems like they should be oil and water. But for Artemis they mix just fine.
”You’re a lot like him, son.” His mother says softly.
”I’m afraid.” Artemis looks down at his calloused hands. Are they more suited for woodworking or fighting? ”Grandfather spoke of it. The fear of doin’ a thing you gotta do. Ain’t never had a long time ta think about it, I guess. Scary things needed doin’, I just normally done ‘em. But not like these past days.”
”Good.” His father says. ”You need perspective. Just like looking on a piece of stock from all angles, with all sorts of light. You can’t start carving until you see it. Fear is gonna make ya cautious, make ya think...but it ain’t more important than the carvin’. It’s like gettin’ stuck not knowin’ what tool to use. Fear can get ya stuck...and it can get ya killed. But it’ll make ya smart if you let it.”
Artemis ponders for a good long while. His parents always had a way of talking to him so he’d understand.
---------------------------
As the festivities rise and those seeking the solace of the mood are soon lost to it, Artemis finds his way to stand before Cygar Anravis. He raises the compass in his hand and asks the question that’s been on his mind for quite some time. ”Tell me more about him. About my grandfather. Why have you given this to me?”
---------------------------
Celebration Night.
- - - -
As the night winds down and the celebration begins to fade, each of the young heroes of Kassen goes their own way. Some feel empowered by the experience- Calia, long an outcast in the community, remains at the feast for some time, drinking in not only the adoration of a community that has learned to love her, but also copious amounts of alcohol. Sariel seems to be recovering well, and both Roldare and Dimira appear to be on the road to recovery. The others all slink back to quieter places, seeking refuge in their own minds.
None of them manage to completely avoid company, however, as one man seems to have made it his mission to find them all.
- - - -
Laird, having sent his companion Woodruff back to his home plane to rest, is surprised to find a man with a scarred face and hooded cloak watching him as he turns.
"Interesting friend you got there, boy," Cygar Anravis says. "But not as interesting as you. You got somethin' special, Laird. Power. Potential. I won't keep you- I can see you need your rest. But I got my eye on you." He grins, the expression somehow both friendly and intimidating at once. "I'll be in touch." With that, he vanishes back into the night.
- - - -
While Forest nurses his black eye in solitude, he, too, finds himself approached by the one rumors claim is a member of the Pathfinder Society.
"I had thought I'd be havin' this conversation with the Redthorne girl," he says as he approaches without any proper greeting. "Who knows? Maybe she'll get over them nerves someday and become the warrior I thought I saw in her. But for now, here I am, talkin' to Forest Hunter. Hell of a name, that." He paces around, smirking as if amused by some private joke. "Fitting, though. You're quite the woodsman. An' dedicated, to boot. I know you got your eyes on Lake Encarthan already. Well, keep 'em open. I might have somethin' for you." He hands Forest a flask of ale and bids him adieu.
- - - -
The last thing Doreen likely wants on her lonely walk home, away from the festivities and the hypocrisy of the Kassenites who suddenly proclaim her a heroine after years of gruesome and hurtful rumors, is to be accosted by a stranger. And yet, here Cygar Anravis stands, smirking, hands in his pockets.
"Crowley," he says, casually. "Don't feel right, does it? Nah. It never will. Kassen'll never feel like home to you. Yer Gran might be here, but it'll never be home until you take ownership of it, and you're too young to have to do that right now. But I'll tell you what you do have to take ownership of, an' that's your abilities." He pauses to take a long draw on his ornate smoking pipe. "It was a thrill, wasn't it? Your little adventure in the tomb? In the thrill of the fight, or when you're stalkin' about in some dangerous territory, nobody's judgin' you for your looks or your past. Everybody's an equal. I don't know about you, but ol' Scar-faced Cygar used to find some comfort in that. The only comfort he ever found, really. So keep your chin up and ears open. I might come callin' on you sometime soon with somethin' more excitin' than pokin' about town, readin' fortunes. Somethin' tells me you'll be interested."
- - - -
The last of them, however, finds Cygar before he can come calling on him, and from the look on the Pathfinder's face, he was expecting this.
"Alonso Lihanuga was a good man," Cygar says as Artemis stands before him, holding the old compass. "I know I've told you that before. Hell of a skirmisher. But if you think all he ever used them skills for was to fight the Molthuni, you're mistaken. The Pathfinder Society's been tryin' to get a foothold in Nirmathas for a long, long time. When I was a younger an' more foolish man, me an' my buddy Reginar scouted around up here in hopes of openin' up a Lodge, probably in Tamran. We met Alonso then- us a couple of sketchy young bucks, an' him a bonafide Nirmathi ranger. He saved our bacon more than once when we got ourselves into trouble with hobgoblins or orcs in the Fangwood. Hell of a good man. We owed him a life debt, aye, that we did."
He gestures toward the old compass. "Alonso wasn't just a warrior. He was the first true Pathfinder in Nirmathas. That compass there was his wayfinder. If you've got any interest in it, maybe I'll show you how it works. Whaddaya say, Lihanuga?"
- - - -
A few days later...
Word reaches each of the youths that defeated Asar and completed the Quest for the Everflame a few days later that Mayor Uptal wishes to speak with them. Somewhat unusually, the Mayor has asked for the young "heroes of Kassen"- as now the people of their town refer to them- to meet him down by the docks of the river Tourondel.
It is, perhaps, no great surprise to find the Mayor waiting alongside Cygar Anravis when they arrive.
Artemis closes his hand over the compass and firms his stare into Cygar's eyes. "Yes." It's an acknowledgment of many things. It's a punctuation to his life in Kassen. In his heart he knows what he'll learn about his grandfather from this scarred man would set his feet upon a new path.
Over the next few hours he listens to Cygar. Over the next few days he seeks out the man from time to time in order to ask further questions. Artie is slow, and he likes to take his time to ponder. During those hours of contemplation he works in Master Ironhame's forge to aid in working on a new spearhead for grandfather's weapon.
When he is summoned to the docks, he is outfitted for travel.
Strange old man.
At least he's never been
An a$%+#++ to me.
"Sure." Doreen shrugged and traveled on. It wasn't the first time a man had made vague promises to her. If and when it happened, she'd evaluate what to do then.
Laird merely puzzles over the comments and, upon waking the next morning and bringing Woodruff back to his side, comments upon the situation to the eidolon. Laird knows that Woodruff will not respond to such observations but their bond lets him know that the eidolon will protect him and the unspoken connection is enough.
Referred to as part of the "Heroes of Kassen", Laird is uneasy weighing the sense that he earned such a title against his pure circumstance at being present. He decides its worth going, if the mayor does no intend Laird to participate, he suspects that he will be told to depart...
Imagine my surprise,
When they summoned me again.
Hero?
I'm a witch.
Doreen packs up her gear. She's already said her goodbyes to her aunt. Whatever this summons means, she knows she isn't coming back. Not to stay. She walks to the docks, humming a dark tune of discordant notes.
Forest does not like how Cygar seems to be implying he knows more about what’s going on than he has told. This is not the time for cryptic games, people have died. And he was an outsider who conveniently arrived just in time for the coming of age ritual. If I find out he knew something about this, about the crypt... His mind goes to the townsmen that were lost.
Forest stays in town after the celebration. Normally he was in and out of town as quickly as he could be, he felt he could do more out there, but something told him to stay a while. Maybe it was the nightmares of a skeleton raid on the town. Maybe it was the increased attention he was getting from the townsfolk as a "hero", especially some of the girls, not that anyone had ever given him reason before to feel unwelcome. He just preferred to be alone. After the second day of finding him in his own bed, his mother hopefully asks if that's going to be a regular thing now. Unlikely.
He does not accomplish much over the next few days. He makes new arrows to replace the ones he had used in the crypt. On the third day he looks for Jenna to return her bow.
---------
Finally word from the mayor. Finally something was happening. Anger wells up inside him at the sight of Cygar on the docks. What does he have to do with all this?
Cygar, the old Pathfinder, grins as he sees the youths approaching. "Good to see none of you rejected the call," he says, but a look from Mayor Uptal silences him.
The hefty, bearded Mayor of Kassen steps forward and smiles warmly. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," he says. "I imagine Cygar hasn't told you much- the situation is... delicate. Over the last few days I've had scouts crawling the area surrounding the Crypt of the Everflame. As of yet, there has been no sign of any undead activity, and Arnama Lastrid reports that everything seems quiet within the tomb itself. However, we will continue to keep watch over that place in the wake of what has happened."
He seems to hope that will bring some small comfort to the group, but soon presses on. "That brings me to the next point of business. You told me of the slain man in the strange mask you found outside Asar's tomb. I've heard of these masks before. I consulted with Father Prasst and then confirmed my fears with Mr. Redthorne- you know, Jenna's father? Make no mistake, the man who appears to have led the group that originally broke into the Crypt and, it would seem, started all this horror was a priest of Razmir." This the Mayor seems to understand comes as no surprise to the group. "Cygar tells me that a temple of Razmir opened in Tamran a short time ago. Considering the evidence before us, I would say the story of what happened at the Crypt should be clear: a party of mercenaries from Tamran, led by this priest of Razmir, invaded the tomb of Ekat Kassen about two months ago and attempted to steal the amulets worn by Kassen and Asar. In doing so, they violated the sacred burial grounds, awakening the dead and... causing their own ugly deaths, as well as those of several Kassenites. Am I missing anything, Cygar?"
The Pathfinder says under his breath, "Sounds about right." He approaches the group, his scarred countenance still held in an unusual smirk. "Listen, I don't want to waste any more time. I told you all I'd come callin' soon. I got somethin' for ya. A mission. An' I think all of ya have somethin' useful to contribute to the cause. How'd you like to get revenge for your fellow Kassenites who got killed because of all this mischief? How'd you like to get those amulets back?" He chuckles and looks at Doreen. "How'd you like to get outta this town for a while and see someplace a little bigger? I'm talkin' about headin' down the river to Tamran. I know you kids already got your sights set on Lake Encarthan. This's what you need to do if you want to get there."
Cygar gives the party a few moments to consider his proposal. "When you get to Tamran, you're gonna meet a buddy of mine, name'a Reginar. He's a Pathfinder based in the city. He's been watchin' the Temple of Razmir since it opened its doors two years back. We keep each other up to date on all the latest shady business goin' on. He says strange things are happenin' in Tamran, an' the Razmirans are at the center of it all. I want you to talk to him and hear him out. Might end up bein' there's no need to head out to any Isle of Terror at all, Gods willin'." His hand idly reaches up and strokes his scars. "See this ship here? This barge's called the Black Mist. Captain's a man by the name of Walren. Good fella- he'll get you to Tamran in one piece, all right. You'll meet 'im later. For now, I got somebody else I wanna introduce you to. 'Ey, Hyder- get yer pint-sized patootie down here an' say hello to the gang!"
Get yer pint-sized patootie down here...I guess that's my cue'
When Hyder hears the old pathfinder call for him, he nods to Captain Walren and invites;
"Lets go meet tha townies.'
Then heads toward the gangplank of the Black Mist' tapping the deck and railing with his cane. Carefully tapping his way across the gangplank he lands on the docks.
He appears comfortably dressed in non-descript traveling cloths, his chain shirt slightly showing from under his jacket and bandoliers, though no other weapons are visible. His darkwood cane in one hand his other extended in greeting, a smile on his goateed face. As he nears it is obvious why he is tapping along with his cane. His eyes are a milky white, he is obviously vision impaired.
'It's was good to be back on a ship, but not as exciting as meeting these young people, since I spoke with Reginar the dreams have stopped...yes that's them. Well not all of them, but apparently the few that were chosen by the gods to be here.'
Calling out his response as he nears:
"small patootie indeed sir, I would have you know I am a full inch taller than average, yeah."
Nearing the group he stops, his smile widens as he squints a little and looks over the group of young people standing on the dock, his eyes resting on the tall young man carrying the spear and shield, apparently his eyes are not as useless as they first appear.
"Of course we halflings don't breed 'em quite as big as you all do here in Kassen. Pardon good folk, where are my manners, yeah"
Doffing his felt hat with his free hand he gives a deep bow, his smile wide as he stands.
"I be Hyder Troseddol only child of my proud parents Tribin and Yamyra, yeah. I recently hale from Tamran, but born and raised on the river boat “Dial Y Cariad.” I'll wager my eyes raise tha question 'What can tha little fella do?' Well let me put it to rest. I've been a river-rat, smuggler, scallywag, pickpocket, confidence man, second story sneak thief; and of late a healer and dreamer of dreams. Most important I have a healthy distrust for these 'priests of Razmir' and their masked god too. Why don't you all introduce yourselves, so's we can get tha niceties out of tha way, so's ta speak, and be underway, yeah.
LAird looks over at Woodruff and then simply nods at the grizzled pathfinder as he decribes what he wants.
As the halfling bows and begins introductions Laird gestrures to himself and then Woodruff in turn. I am Laird and this is my companion Woodruff. I'll let the others introduce themselves...
The woodsman was still a it awkward and saw no reason to expand beyond names...
A different city.
A different time.
A different reason.
A chance to shine.
Doreen listened to them talk. The mayor. The old man. She listened to them babble on about gods and clerics and undead. Bad things, but she already knew that.
The halfling.
Now, he was interesting. He smelled like a harrow deck smelled. She drew a card and examined it, then smiled grimly.
"The little man's the b*%!@ of destiny." Doreen says to the others. "Swept along by the tide of fate, hoping he won't drown in the ocean of possibility."
With that, Doreen hefts up her bag and walks onto the ship.
'ahhh...the plain one and the bright one...Laird and Woodruff...Laird takes the lead and bold enough to speak before the others...interesting, there is more to him than meets the eye'
Hyder smiles, making eye contact with Laird
"A pleasure gentlemen"
Nodding as the two young men head to the boat.
Turning he sees the next speaker.
'The dark one, she had the Harrow cards...swept along...how very interesting'
Hearing the young lady's comment, Hyder's smile becomes a broad grin, he turns toward her as she passes, speaking with confidence.
"Not to worry, Missy! Like I said, I'm a river rat, I can swim about anywhere, yeah."
Artemis stands stoic on the dock, listening to the mayor and eventually the halfling as they layout the next days and weeks and months of what would be their lives. More often than not, Artie is focusing on the grizzled Pathfinder, Cygar. The stories of his grandfather’s exploits cling to the big youth like a cloak in the hot of the summer. He had a lot to live up to if he was to be worthy of grandfather’s compass...if he was to be worthy in following in his grandfather’s footsteps.
”If this is what you want for your life, Artemis, then your mother and I couldn’t be more proud.” His father had said the night before.
”Or frightened.” His mother had rested a hand on her son’s broad chest and quickly added, ”Not because we don’ think ya can do it, son… We fear for wha’ the world outside Kassen will do to ya… How it will change ya…”
In the morning, they had seen him to the door, pack readied, weapons polished and waiting. They’d worked together to clothe Artemis in his new armor and to affix his weapons in their appropriate places. At first, he’d resisted, thinking the efforts akin to treating him like a child running off to trade school. But his father had rested a hand on his shoulder and looked him square in the eyes. Silence between them. Mother stood to his side, holding his cloth shirt, waiting for Artie to understand. This was a transition. This was their way of acknowledging that he’d become a man in their eyes.
Tears had painted all their cheeks, but there was a larger measure of joy to with the solemnity.
Now, standing on the docks and listening as his companions went about introducing themselves, Artie feels different. Normally, meeting someone new, his smile would be broad and welcoming. Especially at meeting the halfling who seems to have similar tones of positivity as his Auntie Cal. But he remains stoic, and waits his turn to greet the newcomer and board the vessel.
”I’m Artemis Lihanuga.” He offers a giant hand to the halfling after slinging his shield and putting his spear in the other hand. ”Ya can call me Artie if it suits ya.” He pauses for a moment and looks towards those of his companions that have boarded and Forest behind him, then back to Hyder. ”I’m glad yer among us, Master Trosedoll. I’m guessin’ we’ll need some wily-wise ta see us thru to the end o’ this journey…” He pauses again, mulling over what Doris had said and constructing his next words carefully. They are new to his mind...to the instinctively friendly nature of the big woodcarver. When he continues, his tone is darker, borrowed from aspects of his companions and no small amount from his father. ”...ya says ya have a knack with the wrong side o’ business. See to it ya don’t put my friends inta danger ‘cause of it.”
With that, he grabs up his gear and heads up the plank to the ship. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to turn around and apologize for his harsh words
As Hyder turns back to the two remaining youths he sees the giant of a man approaching with his hand extended.
'The one who slew the undead, well, re-slew, he looks different somehow, much older, maybe just more confident'
Tucking his cane, so as not to trip the giant, he extends his own right hand high, which is quickly smothered in the hand of the other.
Hmmm, callouses, not just from weapons but honest work as well.'
Hyder nods and smiles warmly as man welcomes him, then as they continue grasping hands through the pregnant pause, as Artemis' countenance drops, Hyder lets his smile wane. He sees the struggle in the mans eyes. He sees the decision made and hears the words spoken. Nodding solemnly as the spearman turns and joins the others on the boat.
'No words will convince him of my intention, I will have to earn that ones trust. I will have to earn everyone's trust, but at least he came out and said it. Maybe some day I will tell him about the fire...maybe not, my actions should speak loud enough for all of them. But he is different than I expected.
Looking straight forward, putting a smile on his face.
'Anyway what's to worry, when ever has a -Hobbit Halfling ever gotten his friends in danger."
Hyder looks back toward the dock where only one youth remains.
'Ahhh, the archer but no one else, pity, I was hoping the bright haired gnome would still be with them she seemed...intoxicating.'
They were all there. All but two. Sariel was still sick, but where was Calia? And why all this talk of the capitol city? He ignores the stranger for now. "Why do we need to go to Tamran? We know where these Razmirazites are. Why don't we just go there? If we're going to waste time in Tamran we might as well send word out and wait for enough warriors to gather to assault the island in numbers. I'm tired of feeling like you know more than you're telling us."
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Idiot senses tingling.
"Don't be an idiot, Forest! You don't hunt without knowing something about what you're hunting and you don't hunt it in its lair! You wait for it to go past your blind! We're freaking intelligence gathering!" Doreen calls out from the boat.
At Forest's questioning, Mayor Uptal opens his mouth to scold him, but Doreen interrupts him. Cygar, meanwhile, only laughs, though there is a hint of an appeciative glance toward Doreen.
"Forest, Forest, Forest," the aged Pathfinder says, "I ain't offended. In fact, you got good questions to ask. Did I know Razmir's lackeys had designs on Kassen's Tomb? Hell no, I didn't. Reginar, my buddy in Tamran, had been keepin' an eye on 'em for a while now, as I said- an' if he had suspicions, he couldn't get word to me quick enough. So if you feel like this is all somehow my fault for not knowin' it was comin', I'll accept that. Maybe if I'd been watchin' the right people, I'd've seen it comin', and I didn't." He chuckles to himself and spits on the ground. "But lemme tell you somethin' regardless. Do you know what the Isle of Terror is? Do you know the kind of evil that place spews out? There's a storm on that island that never ends. It was a domain of Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant. Even the Razmirans won't go there if they can help it. If there's a chance you can cut this madness of in Tamran- or, better yet, if it turns out we're wrong about what's goin' on here and there's no need to go out there- that's a chance worth takin'. I get that you're heated about what these masked clowns did to yer town. I am, too. But don't run off to imminent death and disaster without considerin' all the options first. At least hear Reginar out- can you do that for me?"
Meanwhile, on deck, a figure emerges. A rotund and gray-bearded dwarf approaches Doreen, his expression hard to read beneath his heavy brow and dense facial hair. "What's all this yellin'?" he barks. Seeing Doreen, Artemis, and Laird (with Woodruff) on board, he tips his wide-brimmed hat up and looks upon their faces appraisingly. "Aye, you must be the kiddies from Hyder's visions. Eh, Cap'n Walren, pleasetameetcha, n'all."
Down on the dock, Cygar looks around and frowns. "No Calia, then?"
Mayor Uptal shakes his head. "Leave her be. She's worked hard to earn the trust of this community. She has it now. Besides, we'll need all the able warriors we can afford if those undead monsters do come crawling up to our gates."
Cygar nods grimly. "And Sariel's still a ways to go in his recovery. Looks like this is you, then, 'Heroes of Kassen.' Walren'll wait until noon to depart, if you have any business to wrap up in town. It's a six day journey to Tamran under normal circumstances. Y'got three days on the Tourondel, then you'll be skirtin' the edges of Lake Encarthan down to Tamran. Hyder, I'm gonna take Reginar's word here and trust you to help get 'em to Reginar. You got any more questions before you head out?"
"A bear sleeps in its lair, Doreen." Forest responds flatly before turning to the pathfinder. He does not, in fact, know anything of any Whispering Tyrant. "I can tell you right now what you'll find in Tamran. Noise and liars. How are you going to pick out a few people in thousands? Better to stalk them on the island where they're the only ones and their guard is down. If you have suspects, why not have them arrested? We have them for graverobbing at the least."
'Apparently our archer is also a woodsman, familiar with the hunt. But he is certainly more, willing to think and ask questions. We will need him before we are done...should I put a little 'Oracle mojo' on this to convince him...no, he would pick up on it, I better play it straight.'
Hyder watches and listens as Forest and Cygar converse, chuckling slightly as the young man speaks of Tamran. Stroking his goatee Hyder clears his throat. Aaaahhhuumm, Your not wrong Forest, Tamran is noisy an' full o' liars, but I know Tamran and you might be surprised when ya walk in "The Forest Bounty."
Hyder holds up a finger hoping no one interrupts him.
Now, what I don't know a tinkers damn about is huntin' bears. Or for that matter, I don't know a blasted thing about huntin' lions or tigers either. So if I was gonna hunt any of tha three I would have ta hire an expert so's ta speak. Not just a bloody bush beater but a big game hunter, an EXPERT; which I's assume would probably be different fer each one, yeah."
Hyder looks directly at Forest.
"Now we are huntin' these priest's o' Razmir and all I know about them is what I have seen on the streets o' Tamran and they give me tha bloody willies. Now it sounds like all you's folks know about them is this little bit that you've shared here in the peer. So's we need an expert. Yeah?"
Hyder pauses for a moment looking from Cygar to the mayor.
"THAT expert is Reginar's and we can find him at tha Forest Bounty down in Tamran."
Hyder quickly gestures to the ship with his cane.
"So's lets get on this boat, take a short trip down tha river, go have a pint and find out what we can from the bloody expert and then hunt these buggers down, yeah."
Hyder then turns and returns to the boat, tapping his way up the peer with his cane. As he boards he gives captain Walren a nod.
Artemis wants to head back down the plank and reassure Forest. Tell him that so long as they go at this together it'll be alright. But he cogitates for a moment and simply says, "Let's go, Forest. We're goin' ta Tamron." He rests his gear near the rail of the ship, the glint of his boarding axe's blade catches his eye. "We need perspective 'fore we start choppin' this tree. We go ta this lyin' city n' grab us a few o' these Razmian's. We question 'em ourselves...mebbe learn a few things..."
He stares towards Forest for a moment then gestures his chin towards the plank. "C'mon."
Forest remains unconvinced. But what choice do I have? "Fine, to Tamran. But I'm not spending the next six months stalking masked men through dark alleys." That's what they do in stories about evil masked cults, and the heroes don't face the leader until it has turned into a fire snake or birthed an octopus headed dragon. Forest has had enough of monsters for now. He follows Artemis. "Asar could rise again any day. We need to get him his stupid amulet back."
He had done his best to convince his family that he wasn't doing anything that was any more dangerous than anything else he had ever done. His mother tried to convince him otherwise. His sister Melanie still wanted to come with. She insisted not being allowed to go was some kind of anti-Melanie conspiracy, and she had to be locked in the house till the boat was gone lest she find a way aboard.
Forest still has his fathers sword, but it was strapped to his back, unreachable in combat. Asar's sword had taken its place on his belt. There was something magical about the weapon. Despite its size it was light and perfectly balanced. The blade was bent and chipped badly, but Forest had cut himself several times on the unnaturally sharp metal. He had wrapped a brown cloth around the hilt and oversized guard in an attempt to make it look less sinister and to hide the large red gems at the base of the blade. He'd heard some city folk were attracted to shiny things, and not in a good way. He had returned Jenna's bow to her and was back to using his shortbow. There was a specific type of bow he wanted for himself, not one that could be found in the relatively small Kassen. He has hopes he can find one in the city. That at least would make the trip worthwhile.