Silence. Darkness. Nothingness and void are all that are to be had. It would seem that everything that had existed has ceased to be and that that shall be is to be created. All of the sudden from what seems like the depths of nowhere, a beautiful but warped voice beckons out of nowhere. "COME TO ME, COME TO ME AND MAKE YOUR DESTINY EASIER!" Instantly a flash of light that appears so intense, anyone would agree that they believed they would now be blind as it's intensity lowers until sight can resume.
"What in the dagnabit-"
She cries out in silence, for her voice seems to fail her. Or else her plea is consumed by the raging light.
'Huh?'
The warrior grunts, his tone betraying the confusion he feels.
"I just want to sleep for another five minutes," mumbles Eloen.
"Is this a ploy to get me into bed? I don't do freebies."
As the intensity of the light comes down, you find yourself come to be immersed in a warm, flickering orange mist. However the mist is still too thick to easily identify the shapes that are both still, yet moving around. It is clear to see though where ever you are, there is a state of panic as screams can be heard.
As the intensity of the light comes down, you find yourself come to be immersed in a warm, flickering orange mist. Through the mist you see many moving shapes and shadows, while shapes that seem to look like buildings seem to dance with a sporadic orange light at the top. Screams and slight cackling is heard all around you as it is obvious that where ever you are, this is not a state of peace.
Once again, you hear the voice and it's distorted, angelic tone call out "Come to me, and I will give you your destiny and show your fate!"
Groggily, Kera tries to lift her head, to move her hands and curl her toes, and to determine why everything seems so, so wrong. The pounding of her blood in her ears doesn't help, beating as it does with its relentless salvo. And what of Thimble?
She tries to answer the voice that calls to her, though her mouth feels as though it's full of marbles.
"where...where am I?"
Farumph stares at the strange sights and sounds, before whispering. "Calm down. Th-this is explainable. Surely."
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Yeda squints and scans the foggy scene for the source of the cackling. The scanning proceeds less deliberately than she means and every few seconds it's as if she'd always been turning her head in the opposite direction, or that she's suddenly at a different vantage point looking at different buildings. Still, she strains to follow the cackling...
She seems to be getting no closer to it...
'What is this mist?' Galeas murmurs to himself, blinking furiously in an effort to clear his vision.
Arya is confused by her surroundings, and is untrusting of the ominous voice. "What is your interest in my destiny or my fate?" she askes in response to the voice. She readies herself for any danger that surrounds her.
You get the sense that the woman's voice has no good intentions, and combined with the apparent chaos around you, it would seem that you're being marked for death.
As you keep your bow at the ready, you find nothing through the mist that seems tangible enough to fire an arrow at.
You're able to piece enough to know that this must be a vision, and from the chaos and the voice, it can't be from Nethys. But the intention of this vision still seems unknown.
While nothing much changes, you are able to get a better glimpse of what's going on, and tell that the shapes seem to be like buildings almost.
As you look further, the shapes of the buildings you see have started to look familiar to you, although there is still enough haze to throw off any specifics.
You find yourself still trying to find where this voice is coming from, but seem to not be having much luck at all.
Kera climbs slowly to her feet, trying to remember what is going on. What's the danger? Has anyone called on Sheriff Hemlock? Where are her aunts?
Farumph narrows his eyes and whispers. "If this is a vision, then may you reveal its purpose to me. For what reason is this place in such chaos? Who are you?"
Squinting into the strange orange mist, Galeas unslings his Warhammer and begins to walk toward one of the building-shaped silhouettes.
Arya keeps her guard up and starts to walk towards the building shapes in the mist. She thinks to herself, "I will not allow this mysterious woman to control my fate."
As you look around, you notice a blurred and hazy shape, part of it looking firm, while the other appearing to be soft.
As you look around, you see a wide shape that stands about as tall of a human woman, the left side firm while the right side seems jagged, frayed and limp.
As you look around, you notice a blonde woman, who appears beautiful with no actual features holding in her right hand up in the air a body that appears shredded and hacked up, very much lifeless. However the body appears very familiar to you in an erie way.
If only Koya were here, she'd know what to do!
Hesitating only an instant, she whispers urgently and gestures, her fingers tracing across the air the arcane symbol that burns within her mind. It is the same as always, yet somehow different every time. Her inner eye opens, blinks, then shines with the simple radiance of a harvest moon. An ethereal sphere surrounds her body, glistening with the raiment of the night sky before vanishing in an instant.
She lowers her hand, her fingers balling into fists clenched tightly at her side.
At the very least, Koya wouldn't be afraid, and neither will you, Kera!
She is ready.
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Yeda suddenly notices the shadowy human female figure before her. Is it threatening? Is it the source of the voice?
She turns and squares herself with the figure, draws her sword, and cautiously, slowly approaches.
"I don't take kindly to your vague threats. What do you suppose is my fate, and my destiny is of my own making."
She focuses on the figure as she approaches.
Galeas turns and begins walking toward the odd shape, gripping his hammer and shield tightly. He breathes deeply, trying to calm his pounding heart to no avail.
Farumph keeps on his guard, reaching for his holy symbol. This strange apparition can be all manner of thing... Nethys, give me strength!
Arya draws her short sword and readies herself for whatever danger may come.
As you ready your blade and peer further, nothing else seems to jump out at you about this figure.
As you start to feel out towards the divine energies, you immediately start to feel a darkness emanate from the woman that can't be good.
As you draw your blade and focus more, you start get a very eerie feeling as that jagged image starts to look more like a body.
"You shall come to me, see your destiny, and meet your fate as the rest OF THEM SHALL TOO!!!" the voice screams out as the shape becomes horrifyingly clear to you. It is indeed a corpse. And as she throws it at you, it becomes very clear that this mutilated corpse is you. As soon as your death blocks all other vision, the harsh feel of daylight pierces your eyes as you are woken up.
Chapter I: Burnt Offerings
The coastal town of Sandpoint has faced few trials and dangers over the course of its forty-two year history, but unfortunately, that is all about to change. Unknown to the town’s founders, they chose to build their community over the ruins of an ancient stronghold once used as laboratory and prison, a place where horrific experiments and unholy explorations into what divides man from monster took place. These are the Catacombs of Wrath, a place where arcanists explored and perfected the stolen arts of life shaping and flesh warping, one of several such sites used by Runelord Alaznist’s apprentices during Thassilon’s height, When Thassilon fell, these catacombs went dormant, but the one buried under Sandpoint was not fated to stay that way.
Part I: Festival and Fire
For five years, the faithful of Sandpoint have attended church in temporary structures erected after fire destroyed the previous temple, and while their new religious leader was helpful, kind, and wise, church wasn’t the same. Now, the new cathedral is finally done. All that remains is for the Swallowtail Festival to renew the site’s blessings from the gods and it will be as if the Sandpoint Fire had never occurred.
23rd of Rova, 4708 AR. A beautiful day has fallen upon the small town of Sandpoint. There are people everywhere along with tents and signs. The obvious signs of a festival that is occurring. A festival that has become dear to the residents of Sandpoint, the Swallowtail Festival. A stage has been set up in front of the cathedral in the center of town and a woman with short auburn hair stands in the center. Behind her sit four wooden chairs, three of them occupied. As the crowd notices her, a hush descends and all eyes turn to the stage. She smiles and begins to speak.
"Welcome! As many of you know, and for those of you who don’t, my name is Kendra Deverin and I am proud to say that I am the mayor of this fine town. It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day. I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. I hope you all are enjoying your stay here in Sandpoint and especially if it is your first visit here I sincerely hope that you're having a wonderful time. After all, today is a very large day for us and we do our best to make it such a grand delight for anyone to enjoy! And to all of the old faces I see today, thank you for coming and thank you for everything that each of you has done to keep this town strong in recent years. I see that even Larz Rovanky has torn himself away from work to join us today! It is truly a miracle from Desna herself!” There is quite a bit of laughter and many eyes are turned to a serious looking man dressed in all leather and wearing a sour expression on his face. Kendra waves to him and continues. “Oh come Larz, don’t be so down trodden, it’s a festival; you’re supposed to have fun! In any case, welcome one and all once again, to the Swallowtail Festival! Before we keep going with all the fun for right now, there are a few other people here behind me that would like to give a few words as well. Apparently I’m not allowed as the mayor to hog all the sunlight, who would’ve guessed? Without further a due, let me introduce your Sheriff, Belor Hemlock!"
A dour looking man wearing a worn breastplate and a long sword belted at his waist stands and walks to the center of the stage. His head is shaved and he his eyes are constantly moving about the crowd. He shakes the Mayor's hand and begins to speak.
"Thank you Ms. Mayor. I’m glad to see that everyone is having fun and staying safe. However, even in the heat of celebration, let us not forget the sad events that brought us to this day. And also let us not forget the souls that were lost five years ago. I would like you to all join me in a moment of silence to remember the lives that were lost in the fire that claimed our previous chapel on that fateful night.” The Sheriff lowers his head and the crowd joins him, many of them quite awkwardly as the silence persists. After the moment is over, the Sheriff raises his head and begins to speak again. “In remembering let us also not allow these events to repeat themselves. I am of the understanding that a bonfire is planned for tonight. I urge you all to observe caution during this event.” He clears his throat and smiles awkwardly. “And ummm... Well, enjoy yourselves. Let me introduce the next speaker; give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprietor of the local theatre."
He nods to the crowd and walks back to his chair, passing the next speaker who is already on his way up to the center-stage. This man is quite a contrast to the Sheriff; he is brightly dressed, sports a well-groomed goatee, and seems to be thoroughly enjoying the day. As he reaches the center stage he loosens his collar a bit, winks into the crowd and starts to talk.
"Well, thank you Sheriff for that uplifting oratory. Now I know this town has been through some hard times, but look at what we've accomplished.” He motions towards the church. “And I'm telling you, they spared no expense with this place. Father Zantus' chamber pot? Solid gold. I kid you not; our generous nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of this joint. I think the Churches even chipped in a silver or two! I even heard a rumor that all of the Gods got together and scrounged up four gold pieces to help get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the Padre over here is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! But before I let him get things going I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to the new production of "The Harpy's Curse" starring the world-famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda as Avisera the harpy queen! It's all premiering tomorrow evening at the Sandpoint Theatre and it is going to be fab-u-lous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Zantus!"
The crowd cheers as Cyrdak motions Zantus to the center stage. The young priest looks noticedly abashed at the reception set up for him. He wears the traditional ceremonial robes of a priest of Desna and a shiny silver holy symbol about his neck. He smiles and tries to calm the crowd down, eventually speaking when the applause has subsided. "Ahem, thank you. Thank you, Cyrdak. And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most Holy day. Today is a day of new beginnings so without boring you with long speeches, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"
No later than the words escape his mouth, a stage covered wagon releases a storm of swallowtail butterflies into the air as the crowd erupts in cheer and celebration, signifying that the Swallowtail Festival has begun and joys can be had!
Within the town square and along many of the streets are plenty of places to enjoy an activity or two, all available for the young and young at heart. Vendors have places set up to purchase various items, be it general goods, clothing, or just a souvenir of Sandpoint. And there stand many places to eat, allowing a taste that all of Sandpoint has to offer, each and every meal provided to anyone who wants at no cost to them.
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Yeda turns to Eloen and Kera. "Come, let's check out this cathedral that's supposed to be a big deal. Then we can browse the shops and games after."
She looks eager to soak in the day with her friends and they can't tell if the cathedral is truly of immediate interest or if she's just trying to get it out of the way for the "fun stuff." That usually is her first impulse, but Yeda is often surprised by what turns out to be interesting.
As they head in that direction she asks something that she definitely wants to get out of the way. "Did either of you happen to have any strange dreams recently..." she trails off self-consciously.
Farumph looks to Galeas. "Well, I would like to see the cathedral first, if you would join me. Of course," he says, licking his lips,"Getting some food also sounds great. So many different things to try! They certainly don't have foods like these where I come from."
”There were how many ghosts?” Kera asks seriously, scrutinizing Arika’s scared, wide-eyed face. The latter’s freckles seem to flare against her pale complexion as she glares seriously at Kera. ”Oh, ‘round three I’d say, but you know they’s more where them come from. Chopper had many more victims’n three. I’d bet Casp was among’m. Just floatin’ aimless-like through th’graveyard.”
Kera punches Arika’s shoulder softly, scowling. ”Swear it. Swear that you saw real ghosts in the graveyard last night. Swear it on Casp’s grave.” Kera knows she’s being blasphemous, but if Arika Avertin’s lying, surely this will break her. ”Oh I do, Kera. On Casp’s name.” Arika replies quietly. ”I’d have told mum already, but she’s still so raw ‘bout it.”
It was true, Kera knew. Ever since Alma Avertin’s son Casp was murdered by Jervis Stoot during his notorious killing spree five years earlier, Alma hadn’t quite been the same, and her daughters Arika and Aneka had taken to tending their family bakery on her behalf. Now, on the fifth anniversary, Alma had been acting even more strangely. Could be it be the spirits of the deceased tormenting her from beyond the grave? She remembers her horrid dream from the night before, and she shivers.
The cool autumn wind begins to blow, sending a scattering of butter-yellow leaves cascading down around Arika’s wagon of wares. Kera glances nervously toward the cathedral, and the graves beyond.
”But if there were ghosts in Sandpoint, surely Niska and Koya’d know ‘bout it already.” Kera protests weakly. ”She knows all ‘bout such things!”
”Well, maybe she didn’t know ‘bout these things. These that floated over from Chopper’s Isle, to walk their graves ‘neath the yellow harvest moon.” Arika ooohs like a ghost and tickles Kera, and then Kera knows she’s been had.
”You skunk!” Kera squeals, punching Arika softly on the arm. ”I should put a hex on you! Niska taught me a new one just last night!”
Arika screams playfully and shoots off through the crowd, Kera in hot pursuit.
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She’d decided not to turn Arika into a toad, not after she and Aneka had offered up some of their sugar pumpkin turnovers. Kera liked those, and they weren’t available except during the harvest season. She’d called it a fair trade for frightening her with stories of Chopper and the ghosts. Shenanigans.
Then she’d found Yeda with Eloen and taken a place beside them during Mayor Deverin’s speech. She’d clapped excitedly and whistled for Cyrdak, gasping with excitement when he’d announced the casting of Allishanda. ”She’s wonderful!” Kera gushed. ”They say she’s the best singer in Varisia, and maybe even Cheliax, too!”
When Yeda mentions the cathedral, Kera tuts and sighs, but follows along. The cathedral was nice and all, and even had a shrine to Desna, but Kera just couldn’t get excited by, well church. Plus, her parents and her aunts had taught her to say her prayers outside, so she wasn’t sure why Father Zantus cared so much about the interior. Priests.
"Did either of you happen to have any strange dreams recently..."
Kera pales. ”Are you kidding? I did, just last night, something dark and violent. A pretty woman, at least I think ‘twas, um, well I think I saw myself. Dead. Eerie, huh?”
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Kera pales. ”Are you kidding? I did, just last night, something dark and violent. A pretty woman, at least I think ‘twas, um, well I think I saw myself. Dead. Eerie, huh?”
Yeda's face turns white at hearing the familar scenario recounted back to her. Gulp. "Okay, I didn't think think I would hear nearly the same dream! It was all pretty hazy, and a dark figure was vaguely threatening me. I'm not sure if it became my own body, or it threw my own body at me. That part happened in a very frightful instant, and then I woke up sweating. I've not had dreams like that since I was very little."
She considers the implications for a moment.
"Can this even be a weird coincidence?"
Eloen is somewhat shaken by the strange, dream-like experience, but she seems to keep it for herself, for now.
To Yeda she says, "I agree, this ceremony is, after all, a dedication for the cathedral; the least we can do is pay our respects. Though perhaps I could have some tea first... forgive me, my nerves are a bit unsettled; something to calm them would be agreeable." She gestures in the direction of Ameiko's Rusty Dragon cookery, where the rambunctious proprietess is busy serving her own selection of flavors for the festival. "If you want, I can fetch the tea and then meet you at the cathedral."
After Yeda describes the dream, Eloen is very somber for several moments, then says, "Father Zantus might be able to tell us more. He is, after all, a priest of the goddess of dreams."
"Aye, let's visit the cathedral first. I've questions for Zanthus, and the food always tastes better closer to mid-day anyway." Galeas replies to his small friend. He was weary, and concerned that his restless night and haunted dreams were an omen from Desna herself.
"Perhaps if you're up to it, we could compete in the hagfish challenge this afternoon? You won't find a more unique taste in all of Varisia." he added with a smile.
"My aunt says there's right power'n dreaming." Kera pipes up, her dark hair billowing in the wind as they cross the square. "Like, dreams have the power t' reach beyond themselves, into the waking world. And dark dreams do herald dark days. Is that why your nerves's rattled?"
"Say, if you're going to the Dragon, tell Ameiko she'd better save me a bite of that salmon dish she makes. Last year it ran out before I'd had any."
Ahead, she spots Galeas and Farumph. "Hmm, those two look familiar, but I can't quite place 'em. Do either of you know them?"
Farumph nods to the larger man."Save food for later. And the hagfish challenge sounds interesting. What does it exactly entail?" While his voice sounds innocent, the smirk on his face clearly shows his jest. "I'll take you up on it, although I question how much I can take. I don't suppose they'll give a handicap to help my small physique?"
He spies Kera looking at the two of them. Elbowing Galeas in the hip, Farumph says "Hey, isn't that the lady we met last night in the tavern? Name was... uh..." He scratches his head, trying to recall it.
"Well, we should decide if we want to get food now, or speak with Father Zantus first," suggests Eloen.
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Yeda shudders and experiences a brief shiver at Kera's suggestion. "I hope these dreams hold no such power."
She looks up at the two Kera is indicating. "I think I worked with the taller one for Sheriff Hemlock a short time. I don't recall his name. It wasn't my favorite work, though I didn't have any particular problems with that man. I don't recognize the gnome he's with."
To Eloen, she says "Let's get the matter of these dreams put to rest first. We'll enjoy our food better with less of that on our minds. They're likely nothing anyway."
Eloen points to Galeas and says, "That's Galeas, he's a militiaman. A stand-up fellow, if a bit undisciplined." She turns toward the cathedral. "I'm sure there's a crowd for tours and for the grand opening, let's see if we can find Father Zantus before he has to make a speech."
"A handicap? It can't hurt to ask."Galeas says with a smirk.
The warrior turns, catching Kera and the others glancing their way. "Kera, if I recall correctly. That's Yeda and Eloen with her, too. I know them, Yeda spent some time working with us in the militia and Eloen has been here in Sandpoint since I was a child." he replied, scratching his chin."Perhaps we should say hello?
"I hope these dreams hold no such power."
"I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much," Kera replies. "Most dreams'r just dreams." She doesn't sound particularly confident in her statement, as though she's trying to convince herself.
A soft little yeowl emanates from the ground, and Kera feels the familiar presence of Thimble pressing against her leg. "Hello, Miss," Kera coos, scritching the black cat cat along her back. "I hope you've been stayin' out 'o trouble. Careful, or you''ll get your tail stepped on." Thimble purrs and blinks her mismatched eyes--one grey, the other blue, looking a bit bored by the whole thing.
"Galeas, right, I've heard of him," says Kera, eyeing Galeas from afar, appraising his rugged features and scars. "Hmm, he seems awful young to have such marks on him. Bet he's got a story'r two. You know him well, Eloen?"
She whistles and waves toward Galeas and Farumph. "Oi! Galeas!" she calls casually, as though she has known him for years. "Who's your friend?"
"It seems they've made up our minds for us, my friend," Galeas blushes slightly as his name is called from across the town square, taken aback by Kera's forthrightness.
'You've battled bandits from Wolf's Ear, and felled boggards in the mushfens. Surely you can handle some smalltalk, maybe even make some new friends. Suck it up soldier.' He thought to himself, trying desperately to stop himself from going even redder. He found the din of battle to be a far more comfortable sound than that of a casual conversation, but he was determined to work on his dourness. With a deep breath, he turns to Farumph. "Shall we?"
Farumph smiles. "Remember your tongue is as much a weapon as your blade, and neither should be dull."
He walks over to Kera, going into a dramatic bow."Why, hello, good madam! I am Farumph Iusltine, son of Zilupo Iusltine and Loni Iusltine- father and mother respectively-follower of Nethys, man of good word, and the tallest gnome in the land." He grins. "I think. I have yet to be contested on that title."
"But yes, it is fantastic to meet you."
He turns then so that he may face all three of Kera, Eloen, and Yeda. "Where are you headed?"
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”Good to meet you... Fa-rump” she starts, hoping she didn’t just butcher the pronunciation. ”I’m Yeda Wolfspirit. I come from a tribe in the Calphiak Mountains in the north. I’m pretty new around here so I’ll just assume you’re the tallest gnome around.” She chuckles at her own joke.
”We were just off to briefly check out this new cathedral and ask Father Zantuz some specific questions. And you?”
Eloen nods in recognition to Farumph, then faces Galeas. "Galeas. Still wearing your armor, I see. Always ready for trouble," she says. Is she teasing or serious? It's hard to tell with her tone. She's also armored and has an elegant bow resting against her shoulder, so presumably the elf woman is similarly vigilant. "Join us for a brief trip to the cathedral? It's the reason for the celebration, after all."
"Yes ma'am, it pays to be vigilant even in times of celebration." Galeas responds, his posture stiffening instinctively as Eloen addresses him. He reaches down to adjust the warhammer hanging from his belt, obviously more than a little self conscious. "We were thinking of heading there ourselves before lunch, we'd love to join you."
Kera smiles brightly as Galeas and the gnome approach. She's found that this approach--treating even mundane social encounters with enthusiasm--works to ingratiate most people to her. And that she should ingratiate someone as handsome as Galeas, well... There are butterflies in her stomach.
As Mr. Iusltine introduces himself, she imitates his bow in her own fashion. Being slight of stature herself, she understands seeing the world by looking up at it, but my, gnomes take it to a new level. She's met a few in her eighteen years, but still finds them curious, fascinating creatures.
And they smell nice, like candy.
"Yeda is new, but don't let that fool you. She knows'r way 'round. And Eloen, o' course, has lived longer'n any of us."
"Right, the cathedral!" she exclaims optimistically, suddenly interested in the church when Galeas mentions it. "'Twas rebuilt after a great fire. The new church is greater than before, and has shrines to the greatest deities of civilization." She continues to explain as they walk. "There's Sarenrae and Gozreh, Erastil and Abadar, Shelyn, and of course Desna, the goddess of dreams and stars. She's the patron of the Mvashti's, ya know. Are you religious, Galeas?"