Roused from sleep and herded aboard the Winking Wyvern, the party sails urgently for Rivenrake Island and the ruins of Xin-Bakrakhan, ancient capital of the Thassilonian Runelord of Wrath. A note from Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch informs the group that a Society-funded dig team has uncovered a totally intact temple that appears to be associated with the goddess Lissala, buried for 10,000 years. Given the fresh revelations that this long-thought-dead cult is thriving and allied with the Aspis Consortium, it’s a truly wonderful find, providing an unprecedented opportunity to gain knowledge of this forgotten faith. Even if the site turns out not to be dedicated to Lissala, learning more about the faiths and practices of ancient Thassilon always provides an abundance of knowledge. Often the items they use in their rituals lead to clues about the cults.
By now the work crew has finished clearing the site—the time to explore its secrets is at hand. The Society has no exclusive contract to the site, and Aspis Consortium agents scour the countryside seeking such ripe targets, so time is of the essence. Archaeologists Halla Beusophis and Kovo Murse can answer questions when the group arrives, and a fellow Pathfinder ranger, Riemme Batelle, is already on the island, ready to join in this exciting endeavor. Sheila Heidmarch has given the party a charge: eliminate the ancient temple’s dangers so that Society scholars can study the ruins safely, and bring back whatever knowledge lies within.
days of Bakrakhan was Yamasoth, a nascent qlippoth lord of cursed kingdoms and vile experiments. Rites to Yamasoth included mortification of the flesh and experimental transformations. Alaznist was a dedicated follower of Yamasoth, and sought to learn his ways in order to harness that power for her own armies.
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"This is the place. They say that somewhere here, Alaznist, the Runemistress of Wrath lays hidden. May she rest in impotent torpor forever."
"My past experience with the cult of Lissala working with the Consortium was not going so well. An odd cult. All about duty and punishment. Mostly themselves, I think. But still a tight little community. They seemed to like magic that involved symbols and glyphs, as well as pacts. But not really bad people that I could tell."
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Wonderful, I have never heard of any of this before! It will be a learning experience!
Be careful of the Cultists of Lissala, they are hard core. I had a previous... encounter in Riddleport with them. If anyone calls me Shadowtongue, or Mister Orange; just say you have never heard of either one of those people and this is your good friend Vasilios. It would be dreadful to repeat the Basilisk incident, or the soul devouring statue incident...
The sea journey is uneventful, and the sloop’s crew gives the Pathfinders a wide berth, partially out of respect, partially out of superstitious dread at the destination. Only the captain, Haerla Skolet, is open to speaking with you.
The harbor closest to the Xin-Bakrakhan dig silted over hundreds of years ago, so the Winking Wyvern drops anchor and sends the party ashore in a pair of launches. Greeting you are a half-dozen bedraggled souls living in rugged tents sufficient for four times their number. You're led by a grim-looking woman in work clothes, with signs of emotional strain and fatigue lining her face.
"Good day, Pathfinders. M'name's Halla Beusophis, lead archaeologist on the temple dig."
“Thank goodness you’ve arrived,” begins the careworn Pathfinder. “Two days ago workers at the dig site were attacked, by what or whom I don’t know. I was here at camp when it happened. Only a single worker escaped—Shadaq, who crawled back here, bleeding from a dozen terrible injuries. The wounds were mortal and none of us here possessed the skill to aid him. Before he died we got little information. He told us of the attack, said everyone had been, ‘gutted like game birds.’ His last words—as his eyes violently rolled back in his head—were ‘Lissala is angry, but so am I.’
“The six of us are all that’s left—myself and these five hired excavators. They’ve refused to go back to the site and I didn’t dare go alone. We’ve been huddled in these damned tents since Wealday, waiting for your arrival. I’ll take you to the dig myself, but I don’t know what we’ll find. If Shadaq’s words are true, it won’t be pretty. Only the gods know whether those same attackers lie in wait.”
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Leaning over to Barlor, "Great, another excavation site being attacked. Think you will turn into a big metal monster this time?"
Attending to their hostess, "It's a pleasure to meat you Halla. Do not worry. We have some experience with this. I promise you, we will get to the bottom of this, and solve the problem so you and your's will be safe. Would it be possible to examine the remains, and also possibly get a quick tour of the area? How many workers where taken or killed, besides Shadaq?"
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Maaarv's eyes widen a bit at Vasilios' mention of Riddlesport, "Oh, my friend Linnea told me about some running around she had to do over in Riddlesport. She said the Lissalan's had themselves a basilisk - nasty things those are..."
He shakes his head and listens carefully to Halla's tale. He nods in agreement with Yanos. "Yes, it would be useful to examine Shadaq's remains, if they are available."
When he has a chance, Maaarv will pull Yanos aside. "Hey listen, I noticed back in Ustalav that you like to do a lot of swinging with that hammer of yours. I recently learned how to make extracts that I can share. I wondered if you would like this flask of bull's strength? It should last about 4 minutes - more than enough time if we have a proper fight. Here...if you don't use it, you can just hand it back to me."
Maaarv hands the cleric a small flask with a simple representation of a long-horned steer on the label.
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"Yanos and I can handle any dig sites, raiders and monsters be cursed. We done it 'afore, hardly a scratch on us. Figure we can't count on me usin' any sacred artifacts to save our hide this time though." Barlor claps his club on his buckler and chuckles, then breaks down into a cough and spits something on the ground. "Ah, smell of nature." he says, taking a deep breath.
"I think I could put that there flask to good use. You'll be in fer a good showin', I promise you that!" Barlor brags as he reaches out to take the offered item.
"Well, Shadaq has already been buried. If you think it will help we are familiar with digging things up-I assure you it won't be a big deal, especially if you think it will help the investigation."
"Before you head out I can also provide for the party from the expedition’s stores, including rations, excavation equipment such as picks and shovels, candles and torches, 100-foot lengths of sturdy rope. The extensive ruins of the ancient city begin a mere stone’s throw from the shore, but the dig site itself is a 2-mile trek. I can accompany you there when you're ready to go."
"Should I have my men see to the body for you folks?"
If people want to examine the body, Halla will order her remaining men to exhume him.
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"Hmm, well as unpleasant as it may be, I do think it will be useful to examine Shadaq."
When the body is exhumed, Maaarv carefully examines the wounds.
"Well, this is interesting...these cuts are obviously from some bladed weapon. Yet these bite and claw marks are a little...disconcerting." He gives his fellow Pathfinders a worried look.
Halla looks on stoically as the party examines the body. When you are finished (she will not stop you if you want to take measures to prevent undeath), she leads you on towards the dig site.
The area surrounding the temple, littered with rocks, loose soil, and bits of excavation debris, make reaching the site slow and tricky.
Nonetheless, with Halla's guidance you eventually reach the structure. This breathtaking edifice is constructed of tightly fitted blocks of brown stone covered with intricate engravings depicting humans engaged in acts of terrible self-mutilation. A pillared portico girds the eastern front of the great temple, the carved columns resemble fat, coiled serpents. The structure stands about 20 feet tall, though a great dome rises out of the center another 20 feet. How this place could be more than 10,000 years old defies logic—some sorcery must have preserved the stone.
The stench of blood is the only greeting upon arrival at the excavated temple. Before an imposing stone structure lie a few stripped and eviscerated bodies bearing terrible wounds that go far beyond the marks of battle in their viciousness, and furrows in the fresh dirt indicating that others have been dragged inside. Halla covers her mouth to stifle a cry, then rushes to the side of one of the bodies, falling to her knees.
“Kovo! Oh, Kovo, look how they butchered you!”
Halla rallies and aids in examining the gruesome scene. She reports that others are missing: Pathfinder Riemme Batelle, two dig workers named Pel and Saala, and four laborers. A check of the surrounding area doesn’t turn them up, though you find a masterwork longsword coated with dried blood, a half-full quiver of arrows, and a broken longbow—Halla identifies them as belonging to Riemme.
Approaching the portico, it’s visible that the northeastern wall has been breached. Halla was here just yesterday and claims all exterior surfaces were still intact—this demolition must have been recent. Halla insists that under no circumstances would Kovo or Riemme have allowed this to happen, especially without her presence. They agreed that the excavation team would wait for the party’s arrival before removing the barrier.
An intact version of the broken wall is on the portico’s southeastern face—irregularly shaped stones, much paler than the other stones of which the structure was built, mortared in place with dried clay.
had to have broken out of the temple.
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Maaarv follows Hallah to the body.
"Oh my," he says to himself. "It seems that - Kovo, is it? - Kovo has been, ugh boy...This one has similar markings as Mr. Shadaq, only more...pronounced."
Maaarv kneels down to get a closer look. "Yes, this body, and some of the others, seem to have been feasted upon." The alchemist stands and turns his head away, covering his nose and mouth with the back of his hand.
"What are we dealing with here?" he asks of nobody in particular.
After taking a moment to clear his mind, he takes a look at the portico's wall - noting the dried clay and mortar.
"Uh, guys? The uh... the way these bricks are all strewn about, someone had to break out of the temple. Look at the debris, all signs point to a breach out, not a breach into the temple."
Maaarv again glances at the faces of his fellow Pathfinders, though his own face is a little more pale than it previously was.
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"Hey guys, if we have a few minutes, I'd like to mix up a few extracts." Maaarv doesn't finish his sentence before he has his pack off and has opened up his alchemist's kit.
He immediately begins mixing some of the various tinctures and dry reagents, filling three small flasks with three different colored liquids.
The process takes him less than four minutes. He places the extracts in the open holsters on his bandolier.
"There, sorry 'bout that. Well, we are here to explore. So... let's explore!" Maaarv tries his best to sound brave, but he is a little nervous.
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"We can let Ing sniff the place out 'fore we follow. Tough as he is smelly, this one."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Halla watches as you approach the breach in the wall. She argues passionately for the party to refrain from marring any carvings or the like, as everything found is a potentially priceless archaeological treasure. When the party decides to begin their exploration, Halla states that she’ll make her way back to the seaside camp, anxiously awaiting their report.
Barlor sends his boar in, followed shortly by Yanos.
Eight great pillars, larger versions of the serpentine columns found at the pillared portico, encircle an enormous mosaic on the floor. The tiles of fading greens, reds, and yellows form a seven-pointed star. The dome peaks about forty feet overhead, its center pierced by an oculus five feet across. Near the front of the temple are the remains of a marble statue, smashed to bits. What it once was is unclear, as the vandal did a rather thorough job destroying the ancient work of art.
Toward the back of the wide open space, a long, five-footdeep pool lies in this western alcove, empty now, though the irregular red-brown stains on its surfaces leave little doubt as to what once filled the basin. Standing at the center of the pool is an eighteen-foot-tall marble statue of a strange being. Its body is a tangle of tentacles and eyes surrounding a circular maw filled with jagged teeth and barbed stinging tongues. Each of the thing’s tentacles ends in a claw, pincer, hook, or some other implement of pain. Ancient paint flakes from the grand effigy, but glittering in the light are dozens of onyx gemstones adorning the statue where the being’s eyes are carved. It appears that something is strapped to one of the writhing appendages with red silk ribbons. On the floor of the pool itself are dozens of small stone figurines.
In the rubble just inside the building rests a filthy black feather amid the dust and broken marble.
Sure enough, before the party can get too far into the temple two harpies rise from atop the pillars in the temple!
Both harpies begin to sing from atop their perches.
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I'll pull out my bow and shoot at one on them , then order Drop to "get ready to pounce".
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But instead of following my orders, overcome by the creature's grotesque not-beauty, Drop simply begins to climb back down and make his way towards them.