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The Blakros Museum rises into the night sky, its single black
spire severing the full moon in twain. The black iron gates
surrounding the exhibition hall grind in protest against the
wind. Beyond, the museum’s large oaken doors stand wide
open, a silver-gray mist belching forth from the cavernous
darkness within. You wonder how you ended up here, standing
at the precipice of unknown terrors, and instantly Venture-
Captain Adril Hestram’s wide looming face is conjured into
your minds’ eye. His booming words ring out from memory as
clearly as he spoke them only one hour ago:
“The Blakros Museum is cursed. Some darkness has
descended upon the place and those who enter are blasted with
evil and left raving through its halls, more beast than men. The
curator, Nigel Aldain, is an old associate of the Society, though
he chose to leave our organization some years back after a
disagreement.” Adril looked sheepish then, as if remembering
some distasteful incident from his youth.
“Nigel has long denied the Society access to the Blakros
Museum’s considerable collection of relics and scrolls, using
his extensive contacts to nab several excellent finds right out
from under us... he always had a nose for the hunt. Whatever
is past between Nigel and the Society, he needs our help now.
Perhaps if we can come to his aid, he may think on rejoining the
Pathfinder Society, or at least offering to share his discoveries
with us.”
“Apparently the trouble at Blakros Museum began this
morning, shortly after a wayward Pathfinder named Lugizar
Trantos returned to Absalom after months spent in the Mwangi
Expanse. Supposedly, instead of coming straight to the Lodge
to report in, he went to Blakros, sold his finds to Nigel, and
then disappeared with a hefty sum of gold. The few who
glimpsed Lugizar claimed he was much changed by his time
in the Mwangi... gaunt, his eyes yellowed and unfocused, a
strange rasping cough that seemed to wrack his now wasted
frame. Whatever he brought back with him, we believe it is the
cause of the Blakros Museum’s ills. Root it out.”
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The Taldan farm boy leans on his long spear as he stands looking at the spire, doors, and gates … but it’s the mist that his brown eyes continue to be drawn towards. He scratches his brown hair behind one ear in a particularly unintelligent-looking gesture, ”I don't like the look of that mist, but them rows ain’t gonna hoe themselves, I reckon.”
He looks over at the group, shrugging his armored shoulders, a gesture that causes his pack to rustle and bump, ”Any a’you done this sort’a thing before? Any clever ideas?”
As he waits for an answer, he goes back to looking for any subtle dangers or threats visible from their current position.
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Utabe gazed at the silhouette of the museum against the moon. There was a curious sort of beauty to it, it must be granted, though she could never get used to such tall buildings. "Oh, Oko," she spoke quietly to the buzzard beside her, "even when we get away from the Mwangi, it sends us little reminders."
Utabe turned to her fellow pathfinders. "Shall we enter through the atrium, and explore the building clockwise, as you would say, or do any of you have alternate ideas?"
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He looks over at the group, shrugging his armored shoulders, a gesture that causes his pack to rustle and bump, ”Any a’you done this sort’a thing before? Any clever ideas?”As he waits for an answer, he goes back to looking for any subtle dangers or threats visible from their current position.
"I have not. And I would not profess to my ideas being clever, either." Utabe tried to keep her face stoic, wondering if her companions could sense how out of her depth she felt. Why would she have been selected for this mission? Perhaps the answer lay inside.
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Kiddrik steps back from the mist, ”That ain’t a bad idea … um … what was yer name again? I’m Kiddrik. Kiddrik Brown.” He frowns down at the mist, continuing in a whisper he hopes won’t carry into the museum, ”And don’t touch the mist. It ain’t right. Some kinda magic.”
He gets the attention of the rest of the crew, who still seem to be taking the scene in. ”Anyone who’s got some trainin’ with magics should take a look at this mist.”
As he waits to see if any of the group is able to study the not-right mist, he checks to see if the museum has windows.
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Despite the intensity of the situation, Utabe cannot help but smile at her companion. "My name is Utabe," she answers. "And this fine bird with me," she adds, indicating a homely a buzzard as you've ever seen, "is Oko."
Introductions dealt with, Utabe considers the mist-covered museum with mounting worry. "I honor your concerns about the mist, but if we are to accomplish our task we must surely find a way to pass through it. Perhaps it does not cover every entrance? What do the rest of you think?"
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"Perhaps it does not cover every entrance? What do the rest of you think?"
"My thoughts as well." The monk steps up with the others, taking in the grand view, wrapped in ominous mist. Returning his focus to the group, he introduces himself with a humble gesture.
"Brother Tophor. In answer to your previous question, I've actually just returned from such a task - a large structure, infiltrated in the night. Though only time will tell if their similarities end there."
Peering again into the darkness, Tophor searches the edifice for a way in that is not threatened by the fog.
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Kiddrik dips his head to the introductions. "Looks like those windows might give us some idea what's in there. Brother Tophor and mister ... dwarf ... why don't you let me hike you up to look in?"
Unless another plan is suggested, the farm boy sets longspear to shoulder and walks quietly around the right side of the museum—walking wide of the mist—and stops by the first window. He leans his spear against the wall, drops his backpack on the ground, and laces his fingers to form a step ... offering it to Brother Tophor or the dwarf.
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As Brother Tophor peers into the window before him he sees that a mist crawls all over the ground of the entire room before him. There look to be six pillars in the room with balls of continual flame upon them that leave a very eerily feeling as the light illuminates the fog as the fogs tendrils reach and caress the pillars s if trying to climb them.
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Utabe frowns when she learns of Kiddrick and Brother Topher's findings. "This mist cannot be avoided? That _is_ bad news. Surely it is related to Captain Adril's warnings?"
Utabe frowns even deeper, and you notice that she already has deep creases in her face from overuse of the gesture. "Forgive me, Oko."
She takes out a small arrow, shows it to her buzzard, who looks at it intently and then Utabe hurls the arrow into the mist. "Oko, Fetch!"
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When Kiddrik and the monk wander back, he sees the dwarf inspecting the mist. "Can you tell what the magic in the mist does?"
As he waits for an answer, he watches the bird return unharmed, looking skeptical. "What she can survive we might not. Either way, I still don't like magical fog in a place where all the folks have gone crazy."
He looks back at the museum as he considers, "There's a bunch more windows ... should we get a peek in them all?"
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Agreed. But, first, I have an idea.
Kharine sets her polearm down and takes off her backpack. Rummaging through the various kits and clothing, she retreives the cloak of her travelling outfit from her pack.
If you're going to walk into a building of mist, best not to breathe in the fumes, eh?
Folding the cloak width-wise a couple of times, she wraps her face with the garment, from the bridge of her nose down, leaving enough room to still be able to see.
Let's check the other windows.
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The party notices a many things as they peer into each of the windows.
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As he waits for an answer, he watches the bird return unharmed, looking skeptical. "What she can survive we might not. Either way, I still don't like magical fog in a place where all the folks have gone crazy."
Utabe's relief upon seeing Oko's safe return does little to lighten her mood. "Your point is well taken, Kiddrick," she says, tossing a tiny bit of meat into the bird's waiting beak. "Although Oko is he, not a she."
As Utabe aided the surveying of the museum, she scowled at each additional mist-filled room she finds. Only when the search was complete, did she offer her opinion.
"It seems that the mist inevitable. But I agree with Kiddrick that it is likely dangerous. A magic mist appears here just as people reportedly go mad? We cannot assume it is coincidence."
Utabe pauses, deep in thought, well aware that the wrong plan could bury the group.
"I think we must enter through the Beasts of Legends exhibit, though it will not be trivial to accomplish. What do others think?"
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Agreed. But, first, I have an idea.
Kharine sets her polearm down and takes off her backpack. Rummaging through the various kits and clothing, she retreives the cloak of her travelling outfit from her pack.
If you're going to walk into a building of mist, best not to breathe in the fumes, eh?
Folding the cloak width-wise a couple of times, she wraps her face with the garment, from the bridge of her nose down, leaving enough room to still be able to see.
"An excellent idea, Kharine," Utabe says, folding a similar garment from the thick fabric of her falconry hood. Immediately upon doing this, Utabe's eyes water profusely-- gobsmacked from the overwhelming stench of buzzard. But she says nothing, and hopes that this indignity went unnoticed.
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"Stuffed animal room, it is," Kiddrik says as he pulls an empty sack from his backpack and wraps it a few times around his neck and mouth. He gives the team—or really their gear—a good look over, then continues, his voice muffled, "Once we get the window open, I'll boost Kharine through, then send her polearm. Then you guys boost me and my spear through. Once I'm in, she can stay on guard while I feed a rope back through for you guys."
When they get to the window, he boosts Kharine up.
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As the party successfully makes it through the window they see:
A large placard above the entryway to this hall reads “Hunting
the Beasts of Legend” in great block letters. This gigantic
chamber is relatively free of mist, and darkness is held at bay by
braziers of radiant light. Behemoths occupy these halls, great
taxidermy nightmares such as a two-headed bear easily taller
than an ogre; a great desiccated beetle, its carapace larger than
the face of the clock tower of Absalom’s Clockwork Cathedral;
a massive specimen of chimera, its jaws open in a mock roar;
and an assembled skeleton of a tyrant lizard. The walls here are studded with strange masks, staves, spears, and other
implements of long forgotten cultures, most likely used in ritual
hunts of the beasts preserved here.
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Kiddrik walks quietly into the room , eyeing all the monstrosities. He can't help but give a soft poke to the huge bear with his spear tip. He turns around and looks at the group with a shrug and whispers.
"If nothing's in here, I guess we move on." He points at the north-eastern door, "That's the only one that we don't know where it leads. Should we clear the lavatory first? Or go in there?"
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Kiddrik looks to the stone chips, ”There’s a whole room in there filled with vines and what-not, i’m surprised more than just these masks aren’t damaged. Does make a fella wonder why this room has no mist, though. You think it’s the fires in the braziers? Lighting a few torches could be a simple way of finding out.”
He walks a circuit of the room, looking for anything else out of the ordinary.
he motions towards the lavatory, ”Let’s check in there for any survivors … or threats … and then at least we can move in another direction without worrying about something at our backs.”
Unless someone objects, he moves quietly to the lavatory door and presses his ear to it, listening for sounds from within before opening it up.
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As Kiddrik goes to the lavatory door to listen he hears what he believes to be someone laughing hysterically. Within seconds of Kiddrik placing his ear to the door the rest of the stone crumbles away from the masks as two creatures lurch into the air and hover at the ceiling 50 feet above. The creatures look to be a blackened, bat-winged fiend's head. Tentacles dangle from their chin and scalp as their fanged mouths hang agape.
Kiddrik
Drystan
Utabe
Brother Tophor
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Monsters
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Kharine
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While Kiddrik makes his circuit of the room, Utabe examines the cracked masks-- in particular to see if they have any explanatory text provided by the museum.
Assuming she learns nothing, Utable nods at Kiddrick and readies her bow, as he heads toward that door, preparing to fire at any threats emerging from the room.