Shrouded in thick fog, the shifting Gloomspires north of the Shackles have long frustrated explorers. However, a recent discovery by the Pathfinder Society has revealed a brief opportunity to navigate the columns safely and search for the lost treasure of the legendary pirate Sevenfingers. The only problem is that the Pathfinders are not the only visitors to the Gloomspires.
Written by Tom Phillips.
#6–06: Hall of the Flesh Eaters (sub-tier 4-5)
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Thallin Quin - (Magus Myrmidarch 2 / Rogue Unchained-Sniper 1)
The Restful Spirit - Monk (Spirit Master) 4
Carax the Golden - Human cavalier (strategist) 1
Fingalad Eldahir(or whomever caps decides to bring =P)
Herr Magt Jaeger - Lvl 3 Bloodrager
Dreggar - Slayer 2 / Investigator 2
Dot.
Your summons was cryptic to say the least, Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry requests a team of hardy Pathfinder explorers to join her aboard her ship and lodge, the Grinning Pixie. Please clear your schedule through the end of the month and bring whatever you might need and meet her in Drenchport.
Well, you followed instructions and here it's been days since the ship launched but still no word about your purpose here beyond a vague reference to a ruin and the Shackles. Finally, the Captain invites you all to dine with her and hopefully share what your mission will hold in store for you all.
As the Grinning Pixie lurches and sways in the storm, Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry of the Arcadian Mariner’s Lodge grins widely as she slides a clay jug of strong Sargavan rum across her table toward you. Though broad-shouldered and half a head taller than most humans, the comely yet intimidating half-orc speaks with an almost childlike excitement in her husky voice. “My apologies for all the secrecy,” she says. “I had to make sure some pirate rascal didn’t catch wind of our mission. Now that Drenchport’s a week behind us and we’re hugging the Eye of Abendego, it’s time to give you lubbers the full run-down.”
Benarry waits for the jug to make its way back to her, then takes a long swig. “I mentioned in Drenchport that the Society wants you to explore a recently discovered ruin somewhere north of the Shackles. Well, that was partly true, but it wasn’t exactly the whole story.” Benarry’s eyes narrow and her grin becomes unsettlingly sharklike. “We’re actually sending you to the Gloomspires, to Old Sevenfingers’s tomb.” Chuckling softly, she slides the jug back across the table. “Here, have another nip. Looks like you need it.”
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Thallin sits quietly at the table, while trying to look less uncomfortable with the motion of the sea then he truly feels. Unfamiliar with the Gloomspires, the rogue seems unmoved by its obviously intended ambiance. While unskilled in the scholarly arts, Thallin has learned to quietly absorb others knowledge of such things as the need arises.
Patiently he waits with his dark cloak pulled tight around himself to ward off the sea’s chill. As the captain’s bottle makes its way around the table, Thallin politely slides the jug to the next person without partaking of its contents. It becomes apparent that the man is feeling less then well.
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The dwarf looks a bit strange not being in full armor or hauling the axe and shield he normally equips. Relaxed by the Captain's brashness, Dreggar immediately swigs from the jug when it comes to him and finishes with a flourish of his other hand back at the Captain, then passing it daringly to the person on his right.
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A serious looking man listens intently to the briefing and also politely refuses to partake in the rum, though for different reasons than Thallin. After the Venture-Captain is done speaking, he looks thoughtful for a moment before speaking himself.
"I have heard of these spires. They are an ancient field of massive stone columns that rise from the Arcadian Ocean. Most sages say they were already old when the Ghol-Gan Empire was young. The Gloomspires are hollow and contain many chambers and passages, all of which are believed to be cursed, monster-infested, or both. Since the time of Ghol-Gan, many of the Gloomspires have been explored, and some have even been claimed and repurposed by other beings. Of these, Sevenfingers’s tomb is the most well known. Sevenfingers himself, was a famous pirate some three centuries ago. The Gloomspires are inundated with strange, reality-warping effects. The columns occasionally shift their positions, and many explorers report feeling a sense of wrongness and foreboding just from being in the area. This bizarre magic also makes teleportation and planetraveling magic very difficult, though summoning spells tend to function normally."
"Well this sounds interesting!" says Ezren. "Strange that I've never heard of it."
Sevenfingers was also known to use canibals and madmen. But since that was 300 years ago, We may be dealing with undead canibal madmen. Magt says with a grin.
Bennary, why the rush? Why now? And how do you know which spire was Sevenfingers'?
The half-orc captain looks pleased to hear some of you already know a bit about what you'll be dealing with. “Good questions, my friend. I’ve been researching the Gloomspires for a very long time. Before I sailed to Absalom and joined the Society, I was a Free Captain here in the Shackles. Back then I learned about the Gloomspires, Old Sevenfingers, and all the treasure and secrets the old devil took with him when he sealed himself in his tomb.”
A long, rumbling growl of thunder makes Benarry pause, and she takes the opportunity to wet her lips with anothermswig of rum before she continues. “Since joining the Society, I’ve been able to learn even more about the Gloomspires. Most importantly, I’ve discovered that they’re tied to certain alignments of the stars, and that twice each year—beginning on the nights of the summer and winter solstices—the columns cease moving for exactly three days."
“So, tomorrow’s the summer solstice. Now that you know the ‘where’ and the ‘when’ of this little caper, you need to know why the Society’s sending you.” Benarry pauses before continuing in a lower, more conspiratorial voice. “I recently came into the possession of a logbook once owned by the pirate captain, Mazzer Thrennt. Before Thrennt ended up as lusca-bait seven years back, he was a moderately successfulm pirate who shared my obsession with the Gloomspires. It turns out his log contains an inventory of the plunder he liberated over the years, including the loot he found in Sevenfingers’s tomb. One item on Thrennt’s list immediately got my attention: His log described with perfect accuracy a relic from lost Lirgen called the Orb of Stars. I’m certain that this device can manipulate the malignments of the stars—or at least how we perceive them— and historical accounts suggest we could also use it to trick the Gloomspires into thinking that the solstice lasts more than just a day. The Society and I both want that orb, and it’s going to look really good to the folks back home if you’re able to secure it. Here,” she says, passing a sheet of parchment across the table, “I’ve written down some of the particulars.”
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Just as the ship was about to depart, handsome man approaches the group, gliding towards them without a sound, his feet never touching the ground as he walks. He is of average height and has a slim build to him, yet is perfectly proportioned and in excellent physical shape. It's hard to judge his age as he appears much younger than he seems, having a youthful glow to him. His hair is a light blonde, almost platinum and with a particular sheen to it. Bright blue eyes that almost seem to sparkle like stars in the night sky look over the group gathered. His clothing is modest, similar to a clerics vestments, and impeccably clean, covered by a mithril breastplate. A gleaming morningstar hangs to one side of his belt and a dark wooden shield is strapped to his back, emblazoned with a blue and silver butterfly, the mark of Desna.
"You are off on a long journey, yes? Desna directed me to join you and aid you with my divine powers. Put your faith in her and she shall guide us on our journey." His speech is quiet yet smooth, almost as if he is talking in a whisper, and quite soothing. However you do catch him frequently mumbling to himself in Celestial from time to time.
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During the journey, Jorah spends much of the days resting, and the nights out on deck staring at the stars for hours.
The oracle quietly sits through the briefing by the captain, and politely refuses the rum. But he perks up when hearing about the artifact they are to recover."Hmmm, this Orb of Stars sounds fascinating. The ability to alter star alignments sounds like something created by Desna herself. I am truly humbled to have a chance to secure such an item."
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About the time the captain mentions how the columns stop moving, Thallin excuses himself and heads topside. Shortly after his departure, the sounds of last night’s meal can be heard being quickly evacuated over the side of the ship. In the distance you hear Thallin mumble "I hate the sea" as he makes his way down the left side of the ship.
"When do we depart?" asks Ezren, wincing in sympathy at the regurgitative sounds from on deck.
You spend a last tumultuous night upon the tempest tossed Grinning Pixie and by the time the pallid morning light leaks through the cloud cover, you are more than ready to be on your way.
The folding boat is loaded and ready to launch. Captain Benarry bids you farewell with some final words. "There's a canvas-wrapped parcel of tools for digging, plus a few other bits that may come in handy. Remember that the Gloomspires are a tricky place, so take careful notes. No one has been able to map this region, so it will be quite a feather in your cap if you can manage it. Double check that note if you forget any details. Desna's luck travel with you!"
Getting the boat to shore is a chaotic ordeal, the waves buck the little boat with every lap and it's not until you're well away from the storm before the heaving gentles out and Thallin regains his usual coloring. Before long your feet are again on solid ground and your mission has well and truly begun.
It took nearly two hours to climb the narrow, winding steps to the summit of the great stone column containing Sevenfingers’s tomb. Although the swirling chaos of the Eye of Abendego lies only a hundred miles away to the east, the violent storms it constantly hurls across the seas seem to have forgotten this eerily quiet place. Surrounding the monolith are dozens of nearly identical columns, their ominous outlines stretching down into the mist. And here, atop Sevenfingers’s tomb, is a small clearing surrounded by a thick and utterly silent veil of tropical trees, hanging vines, and thick undergrowth, all shrouded in fog.
A lush canopy of tropical trees, flowering vines, and thick undergrowth forms a dark green wall around this small clearing. A broad trail cuts through the foliage and vanishes into the mists to the northwest. To the south and east is the edge of the column, and a sheer five hundred-foot drop. The ground here is a soggy carpet of thick green moss and black soil.
At first glance, the clearing appears empty; however, Ezren and Dreggar notice signs of recent activity. The plants growing here seem to be stripped of all edible fruit and seeds. Put on alert, you look around a bit more thoroughly and find the remains of a weeks old campfire that contains the charred skull and bone fragments of a humanoid. All of the bones show signs of gnawing. Dreggar, Jorah, Thallin and The Restful Spirit find humanoid tracks leading along a thin path to the north.
"The game's afoot," says Ezren, flexing his fingers and cracking his neck. Drawing a strip of leather from his pouch he whispers a few arcane syllables and moves his hands in precise forms, momentarily leaving glowing runes in the air that fade as his hands move on.
"Let's go."
Ezren examines the wand handed to him by The Restful Spirit, grunts noncommittaly, then speaks the command word, surrounding the monk with an invisible field of force, then hands back the wand.
You follow the trail, Dreggar leading the group. The prevalent mists of the area make seeing ahead of you a real challenge. At best, you can make out 20 feet in front of you. Jorah, at the back of the pack, can barely make out Dreggars shape in front.
The narrow path is bathed in shadows thanks to the thick jungle canopy overhead. They seem to flicker and move in your peripheral vision, as if the shadows themselves creep and crawl and hunt in this fell place. A musty smell pervades the air and as you follow the trail, an odor like the burning of wet wood reaches you, warning you that you draw close.
A spongy mass of foliage squelches under Dreggar's boot and a cry from up ahead tells you that you have found the creatures you track.
Surprise Round Initiative
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? - cries a warning, stands from prone
Herr Jaeger
Ezren
Jorah
Thallin
The Restful Spirit
Dreggar
Ezren hustles into the cover of some nearby bushes, drawing his wand of magic missiles as he goes. He then covers his allies, waiting for trouble but unwilling to start any.
GM Turmoil
Jorah
Michael Hallet
Thallin Quin
