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A Pathfinder Society Scenario designed for levels 1–5.
When the flames of revolution swept through Galt, the Society lost much of what it held there: dozens of agents, several lodges, and the fellowship of countless contacts who foreswore the Society rather than become targets themselves. Although Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro has reestablished a foothold in the country, she needs to rebuild her network of allies. One of the most important figures resides in Rosehaven, a small village due to celebrate its yearly festival of light and forgiveness. Petulengro hopes that an entourage of Pathfinders might participate in the festivities and endear itself to the Society’s former friend. Past evils have other plans, however, and unless the PCs can keep their wits about them, they might not just lose sight of the mission; they might lose their lives.
“Reaping What We Sow” is a spooky adventure, perfect for fans of Pathfinder Roleplaying Game: Horror Adventures while still suitable for more light-hearted games.
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Late afternoon light pours in through the windows of the meeting room in Galt’s Woodsedge Lodge, and the smell of freshly baked pastries wafts in from the kitchen. Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro sits at the head of a polished mahogany table in front of tall piles of papers. She clears her throat.
“I’m glad to see that all of you made it here safely. My name is Eliza Petulengro. And what are the names of the agents who answered my call today?”
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Gaz arrived to the VC's office early, an accident caused by his confusion with Galtian clocks. The disheveled halfling sat in one of the few chairs in the middle of the room and with a toothpick he alternated between cleaning his teeth and shoes. Teeth, shoes, teeth, shoes..
Shuttering, Petulengro regarded him with disgust and refrained from conversation by hiding behind paperwork. Luckily for her several others would soon show up.
At her question Gaz grunts and nods, starting to chew on the dulled muddy toothpick. "Gaz Gortag, Gurat Bi Rup horde." He turns and scans around the room behind him. "
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In a violent plum of multi-colored smoke a tiny gnome appears sputtering and waving his arms.
”Confound it Bert! Why do you always drop the purple pellet when I am trying to greet people!”
The garishly clad tiny fey extends his hand toward the slightly taller Halfling with an overwhelming toothy grin. *cough* My name *wheeze* is Prizm! I hear we get to go to the festival of light and forgiveness! They make the best *sniff* scones there EVER!”
The gnome makes a grandiose gesture with his arms and several playing cards, silk handkerchiefs, and dice fall out haphazardly. ”Oh no!”
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Out of the shadows a small avian squints his tiny eyes in a look that could only mean purpose. He deftly rolls out from under the table where he was hiding and makes a mad dash at the floundering gnome.
With a deft extension of his leg, he causes Prizm to trip and sprawl on the floor in front of Gaz.
Bert then runs up the backside of the gnome and perches himself atop the fallen demi-human to lock eyes with the barbarian.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the small dodo breaks into what could only be a jig.
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Adoril ties up his donkey, Tanto, outside the lodge and makes sure he has some food.
Adoril dusts himself off a little and walks inside to the meeting place.
"Hello, I'm Adoril Carter. A paladin of Erastil. Pleasure meeting you all."
The bow accompanying the greeting is a little awkward, clearly not a natural thing for this man to be doing.
"Gaz, good to see you again. Maybe we can get you airborne this time."
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Gaz jumps from the chair as the mind boggling illusions and failed tricks play out before him. When at last Bert is dancing atop Prizum, Gaz bursts into laughter and takes Berts wing, shaking it vigorously. "I'm tallest here! That never happen! You are wonderful dinner my funny little new friend, I make spicy sau... uh... bath for you.. just let me.."
As Gaz searches for basting supplies Adoril enters. "Old friend! My you have grown strong! Please, throw me anytime." Then as an aside Gaz leans towards the Paladin and adds, "I brought extra piss healing mud incase either us get filth again."
Gaz gives Adoril a wink as he continues to search the office for cooking supplies.
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Bert wiggles free deftly and executes a perfect backflip (aka rolls off Prizms back) while tossing a small pebble right into the nose of Gaz.
Running this way and that in excitement he rushes over to Prizm's backpack and pulls out a small jar of pickles and then dashes over to his friend Lya.
With a tiny foot he nudges the jar of pickles toward the street performer and then continues to dance happily.
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Prizm stands and dusts himself off. As he slaps his colorful robes plumes of colored dust float about which in turn causes the small gnome to sputter some more.
"Good day Ms. Petulengro! What can the Pathfinder Society do for you? My name as I said is Prizm, and my foray is the wonderful art of illusion. I imagine I may be able to help the cause given that this is the festival of light!"
While the gnome paces dredging the information from his massive mind, he takes extra special care to avoid the strange Halfling and his reference of ... mudd. Rather he walks over near his friend Lya.
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An angry halfling bursts into the room, his bent helm badly matching his rough, worn robes. The bastard sword on his back gleams, freshly polished, as do the buckles and bindings on his spellbook.
"Stupid earth plane. Stupid soldiers," he mumbles, then looks around the room.
"You!" he points at Gaz. "I know you're useful!"
He squints at the other short one in the room.
"You're untested, gnome. Be on your best behavior. None of your races silliness."
His eyes move above his own head level for the first time, looking at the other two.
"Ulfen man. I know you've got a good arm. Good," he looks pointedly at the woman in the room. "And who are you?!"
After the response...
"Venture Captain. Corrin Justicebringer. Here to put this country back in order. Riots, revolutions, sedition. I don't know how you handle all of it."
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"I am Lya, Champion of Shelyn. Teacher of the arts and devout believer of inner beauty."
The bright feathers in her hair, and her elegant Parade armor adorned in her deity's symbols attest to the truthfulness of her words.
"I've also been known to heal a wound or two when a fight becomes unavoidable."
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Gaz temporarily goes cross eyed as the pebble bounces off his forehead. 'The bird isn't..food..? Alright, [sigh] I guess I'll never understand magic.' he thinks to himself.
Seeing Corrin enter Gaz gets a good chuckle. 'Gooood, with this one comes crushing. He likely don't approve of festival women though..."
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Prizm comments to Lya in sylvan:
The gnome looks back to Petulengro listening eagerly.
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“As expected......Excellent.” Moments later, a wiry man wearing a tailored suit strides into the room. A white porcelain mask covers his face, and he wears a thin red ribbon around his neck. In his gloved hands, he carries a tray of sweet and savory pies, which he sets in the center of the table before quietly slipping away.The venture-captain serves herself a generous slice of pie. “Mind that you don’t get food on the papers,” she says. “They record the information that your fellow agents have been gathering about the ebb and flow of Galtan society. To perform such work properly is, unfortunately, far less interesting than it sounds. I have a more engaging opportunity in mind for you. You’ll be traveling about a hundred miles up the Sellen River to the village of Rosehaven. Rosehaven is the home of Armeline, a savvy information gatherer who was once a reliable contact for the Pathfinder Society. Twelve years ago, she was accused of espionage against the revolution in connection with some of her past work with the Society. She sent a cry for help the Grand Lodge. It was an exceedingly difficult situation, considering only a few months earlier revolutionaries stormed this very lodge and killed my predecessor and her servants. Following that tragedy, the Decemvirate suspended all operations in Galt. It was a sensible decision—after all, the Decemvirate is not in the business of sending agents on suicide missions—but it seemed a death sentence for Armeline. Whether through luck, guile,or both, Armeline survived. I would like to extend a formal apology to her, and hopefully convince her to consider working with the Society in the future.
We have before us the perfect opportunity. Rosehaven’s upcoming festival culminates in a ceremony of ritual forgiveness, which may encourage her to move past the Society’s unfortunate necessity so many years ago. I’ve arranged for a riverboat to pick you up at dawn. You’ll arrive in Rosehaven in the morning of the first day of the festival." Eliza frowns, “Oh, and one more thing. I have a hunch, and I learned to trust my hunches years ago. I doubt this mission will be as simple as it seems. Stay alert.”
"Any questions?"
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Gaz listens absently. Once the pies entered the room little else mattered to him.
'Yes, festival. Yes, good impressions, I only make good impressions. I make the best impressions, nobody is as impressed as me." he rambles in his head over the VC's monologue while tasting each of the pies. One by one Gaz sticks his finger into each pie and licks off the filling.
"Mmmm, I like this best. We make woman woed no problem." he says with a dirty toothed smile, pointing to a blueberry.
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"Exciting! I can wear my new entertainers outfit.. it has silks and sashes...!"
After being momentarily distracted by the fashion opportunities he waves his small hands to use some cantrips to move the offending odors away from Lya - noticing that his friend is not well he frowns slightly..
After hearing her comment on pictures...
"Oh yes! Do you have a painting... a drawing? I would love to have a likeness if possible... never fear we need not take it with us.. once I see it my magical mind will hold her likeness forever."
Prizm glances over at Bert who seems to be fretting over his bardic friend.
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Bert rubs his small feathered head on Lya's boot seemingly feeling bad for her. As his keen dodo mind notices the source of her discomfort the quickly sets about stomping on the offending food in a flurry of anger.
"bert! bert! bert! bert! bert! BBBeeRRRRT!!!!" the little bird chirps as he sets about destroying the pies.
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Gaz grabs his favored Blueberry pie away from the birds stomping feet just in time. While scooping out a handful with his left, he holds the pie in his right and offers it to Adoril, Corrin, and Prizm.
Gaz gives Lya an eye, 'No color, thin very thin, is she sick? But how how the bird.. hmmm.. ahh! She's a Vam-pie-re, makes perfect sense!'
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"I'm afraid I don't have a description and I've never met her personally, but you should be able to ask around and find her once you get to Rosehaven. It's a village along the Sellen River, home to several hundred people. Its seclusion shields it from the cycle of revolution--for the most part. Its people make their living primarily through farming and fishing."
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The riverboat that meets the PCs at dawn is a large rowboat with a crew of four experienced sailors. It moves slowly but steadily up the Sellen River, arriving in Rosehaven after 10 days of travel (food and drink are included in travel costs covered by the Society).
Rosehaven's only dock doubles as a shop selling fresh wares to passing ships. It adjoins both the village’s fishery—a large building where fishermen sort, clean, prepare, and preserve their catches and a small market catering to passing boats. Nearby, a creaky road sign points to the east. It reads "Rosehaven 1/2 miles". The road into town is quiet and easy travel, the afternoon sun on your backs instead of in your eyes. Along the way, you pass a few farmers bringing in the harvest. Most of the farmers eye your weapons with suspicion, but they go about their work with hopes of finishing in time for tonight's festival.
After about 15 minutes of walking you make it to Rosehaven.
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Prizm walks behind Gaz with his nose planted firmly in his many regional books and nearly walks right into the Halfling barbarian.
Stopping just short of said disaster he looks up and points at what his educated guess determines to be the course.
"Isn't this town just quaint? You can smell the local river fare and Bert is nosing around.. I am guessing someone is pickling something nearby."
Remembering their goal he continues "I would suggest that we have Lya speak with Armeline when we do find her.. after all the society did come off pretty rude when last we rubbed shoulders. Damage contro..... not that kind of damage Gaz... Put down that dog...."
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As luck would have it, Armeline's house is on your left. A couple dozen villagers appear to be finishing up decorations. They nervously eye your weapons and their conversations turn to hushed whispers.
After a few moments, a slot in the door opens and a pair of soild, deep blue eyes gazes at you through it. You hear a voice from the other side of the door: "State your business."
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Gaz finds himself caught in a whirlwind of confusion. He looks down at his feet as Bert scuttles off to its next adventure and pleasantly finds that the Dodo's pecking cleaned a lot of crud off his toenails.
'Hey hey! I love this place!'
Gaz joins the peanut gallery of Adoril's attempt at diplomacy, he is completely unaware of how well the paladin is doing though. As far as Gaz is concerned things are shaping up nicely.
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"I am Armeline...Pathfinders," her voice bristling with contempt.
"Do you know what Galtan prison is like? I doubt you do, as I described it in the dozens of letters I sent to your society for aid. You know--those letters that your society IGNORED FOR MONTHS?! You wouldn't believe the things I had to do to get what I needed to escape," she says with a shudder.
"Take your words to someone who will hear them--I have no desire to work with an organization that views its contacts as expendable assets."
With that, Armeline slams the hatch closed. Hopefully you'll have other opportunities to mend bridges.
Meanwhile, villagers start gathering in the square in anticipation for the festival. After a few minutes, a robed man exits from the village's temple of Shelyn and begins asking for people to join hands in prayer. Do you join the villagers in prayer?
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Gaz is almost excited to join in, though he is not quite sure what is about to go on. He just figures that the party is about to start, hordes are about community after all. As he realizes that this is a prayer, he stands patiently as the religious folk do their thing around him and tries his best to mimic gestures and not cause any trouble.
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Bert watches the others go and hangs his head slightly. He moves over to Prizm and retrieves a couple pickles he has been saving then moves back to the closed hatch.
"bert"
The small bird places them on the doormat and goes about his work.
With a slow methodical pecking the little Dodo sets about trying to smooth things over and make a new friend.
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The robed man leads the townsfolk in basic prayers to Shelyn. He thanks the Eternal Rose for various blessings she has granted the village this last year, and concludes with a prayer that the festival will inspire her to grant the village more blessings until next year's festival.
The robed man approaches Lya not long after the conclusion of the prayer. "Welcome to Rosehaven, travelers! Do forgive the villagers apprehension. Many of us fled the violence from the revolution, and sight of your weapons likely invokes harsh memories. Despite this, you have picked an excellent day to visit --We’re celebrating Mercylight! As you just heard, this festival is dedicated to the grace of Shelyn, but you don’t have to worship Shelyn to participate. Go ahead, grab a pumpkin or two, and carve whatever you wish. There are plenty more in the fields, so don’t be shy!”
Although the children are excited for the festival, the adults seem fairly sullen. The point of the festival becomes clear--revelers are to take a pumpkin from a pile and carve them into works of art dedicated to Shelyn.
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Prizm wanders over and sees all the youth enjoying working together to craft works of art from the harvest bounty. With a smile the little gnome climbs up on one of the stumps near the center of the crowd and muses – ”It is nice to see so many humans enjoy one of natures creations!”
The gnome looks over at Lya as she works at perfecting her depiction and comments ”You know when I was but a child we used to carve large pumpkins into forts and play house!” he comments snickering.
”Ladies and gentlemen, please do not be alarmed.”
”ዝም ምስል” is intoned.
Suddenly a green sprout burst out of the ground and writhes around before a small pumpkins starts to take shape, in mere moments the gourd enhances its size over and over until it is absolutely giant nearly the size of a small cottage. Notes of music appear and disappear all over its surface and beautiful lights pulse to the sound of of Prizm humming. The vines that support the gourd curve and dance into the symbols of Shelyn. All the whole random melodic sounds burst and chime in positive tones.
Bert can be seen diving around the display dancing his fabled dodo dance.
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At first Gaz grabs a pumpkin and leaps onto to it, smashing the gourd to pieces. He laughs happily and several of the children seem entertained and excited by the harmless mischief. Seeing Lya carving the pumpkin triggers a revelation in Gaz. Oooooh! Give it face!"
The halfling then sets about cutting into the pumpkin, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as the planned knife strokes demand much concentration from him. Once he is done Gaz's eyes go wide and he turns his creation around to show everyone at the festival. What he has created is a brutish pumpkin face that is chewing a smaller pumpkin. "Gaz eat pumpkin, pumpkin eat Gaz! Hahaha! Shelyn!" he exclaims, not really aware of what the goddess represents but caught up in the atmosphere and excitement of Prizm's marvelous display.
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The robed man who spoke earlier, who addresses himself as Bertinard Dupin, wanders about the revelers in the square. Occasionally he stops to compliment someone's pumpkin carving before carrying on to make small talk here and there with the townsfolk. Armeline can be spotted among the crowd, staring daggers at those of you who wear your wayfinders.
Gaz's display gets a good laugh from the village children. It even gets a chuckle from some of the younger adults, while Bertinard lets out a hearty, jolly laugh. When Prizm does his display, the kids ooo and aaa at is his illusory pumpkin while others giggle and mirthfully point at Bert's dancing. The adults, however, are less enthused. Bertinard makes eye contact with Prizm and gives the gnome a knowing wink. Lya's pumpkin makes a fine addition to those already prepared, and Bertinard congratulates her in a booming voice before putting her pumpkin on display with some of the finer carved pumpkins.
The pile of pumpkins for carving reaches about one third as big as at was at the beginning of the festival. A few men from the village announce they'll head out to a local druid's farm for the backup reserve of pumpkins before hitching a mule to a cart and heading out of town.
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Lya whispers to the group "Keep an eye on that Bertinard. Something seems.. off about this festival. I am going to speak to Armeline and try to smooth things over... And do a pumpkin or two!"
Lya will make her way over to Armeline slowly.. shaking hands and offering Shelyn's blessings on a few people she mingles with. When she does finally get close enough to speak to her... "Shelyn's blessings on you. In the spirit of Mercylight, would you grant this humble paladin a moment of your time?" Lya carefully words her greeting, and waits patiently for a chance to speak.