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Jorag followed as the small town below the city was searched for prisoners, ready for danger in spite of everything being quiet and calm. As Oti freed the rats, he nodded with a smile. "Very true Otiophon. Are you sure you do not favor Kurgess?" He smiled. "Ah but I jest of course. I suspect your reasons are a touch more noble than those of mighty Kurgess. He would see them free to fight to live, more than anything else."
When asked, Jorag simply nodded and filled the air with motes of light, channeling the healing energies of Kurgess into anyone nearby.
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Marco cautiously enters the room after the derro is dispatched. He scans the room with detect magic while the others search it physically. When finished, he takes the black rat statue for his cataloging duties. "Frindlikh, will you check that chest outside with the supplies, in case it's trapped and locked?"
Marco then follows along as the party searches the rest of the city, finding slaves, but no more threats.
Frindlikh determines there are no traps on the chest and without any enemies to worry over, he opens the lock easily after a short time. Inside is a potion, two scrolls, and a fine looking shortsword. The sword looks to be excellent quality, perhaps even enchanted.
There are less Taldan citizens held here than you had expected, but they are grateful for your aid and eager to follow you out of this place. The mites seem to have all disappeared, a pile of discarded shackles and keys the only trace left behind.
Several of you notice a box hidden in the rafters. When you retrieve it, it contains a large stoppered vial of a thick black fluid and an apparent kit for coating weapons with the substance.
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Before going, Oti looks over the supplies, possibly taking a few samples of manufactured items, trying to determine what the supplies are for and where they might have come from.
As the final task, of course, Oti help Jorag retrieve the murdered Taldan citizens floating in the sewer above, out of view of the rescued Taldans.
Your victorious return from Cassomir Below should have been sweet, but like the stench of the sewer that still clings to your clothes and gear, it held a bitter taint. You brought the jet rat out of the enemy's hands, true. But you freed only a handful of kidnapped Cassomir citizens and returned with nearly as many corpses as you did live bodies. The reports on those you saved is not encouraging either, as some seem irreparably damaged from their time with the Derro.
Questions plague you as you while away your time, on stand-by once again. Some of your companions give voice to them over drinks.
"The place seemed so empty. Why would there only be one derro? It just doesn't make sense."
"Did you see all the empty cages? Did we arrive too late?"
But no answers come, and you are left again with too much time to speculate.
The traffic in Cassomir and the Inn ebbs and flows like the tide as ships deliver people and cargo to the nearby docks and then carry them away in the next moment. More Pathfinders come and go and you get the distinct impression that Venture Captain Themis is putting a lot of agents on the problem. Other folk of all varieties drift through the common room, unloading their own cargo of news and rumors. The Teppish name catches your ear and you begin to hear conflicting accounts from those conversing nearby. First someone speaks of the traitorous Dalirio Teppish's well deserved death but then later the same day, someone else reports that he has escaped the Pathfinder's grasp. Yet another rumor tells the tale of lost love reunited and a dark wedding somewhere in the depths uniting the Teppish and Ismacco families forever. The flotsam and jetsam clutter of conflicting whispers do nothing for your peace of mind.
It is a relief when the door of the Inn finally opens to reveal Cestis, the fresh-faced scholarly Pathfinder you freed from the madman, Dalirio Teppish and his slave-mongering cult. He approaches your group with yet another list of names and urges you gather your gear and follow him to the Pathfinder Lodge.
Alpha (1-2 tier)
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1) Jorag - Cleric 2
2) Mujenbai Kayunga - Saurian Shaman 1
3) Marco Vail - Sage Sorcerer 1
4) Selter Sago de'Morcaine PFS - Druid 2
Venture-Captain Hestia Themis regards you with dark, haunted eyes. The petite Taldan woman was widely known as quite a beauty, though her now harried appearance revealed she had not borne the stress of the recent troubles well. The sunken shadows under her eyes told of long hours spent straining by candlelight instead of getting much needed rest. With a perplexed stitch in her brow, she paced beside her enormous desk as you settle in to hear her speak. Her voice is gravelly with overuse and saturated with frustration and cynicism, but still commands the attention of the room.
“I simply do not understand. A new kidnapping spree plagues us again despite all our efforts. It seems our citizens make easy prey to those who profit from such exploits! While this disturbs me, I am more troubled by reports that some of those kidnapped have returned to the city as undead monsters who accompany this Cult of Nature’s Cataclysm plague, a plague that I can’t seem to excise from my beloved city." She trembles with rage, her lips peeling back in a snarl as she slams her fist down on the polished blackwood.
“This ends now! For a third time we battle Groetus-worshiping dogs and there will not be a fourth!” Taking several deep breaths, Hestia regains her composure, smoothing wisps of raven hair back into her up-do.
“I am sending you to Swift Prison to interrogate a cultist we captured who was trying to kidnap a local engineer. Meet my man Garver out front — he’ll take you in to see the Nature’s Cataclysm fool. Find out where the other cultists hide, where they’ve taken their recent victims, and how they’re turning them into skeletal undead monsters. Free as many Cassomir citizens as you can, of course — the good publicity never hurts. Any questions?”
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Mujembai listens with his arms crossed and a wrinkled forehead, when the Venture Captain is done the big Garundi merely shakes his head and begins heading for the prison.
As they move he nods to Selter, "It will be good to work with another druid, I have had little contact with those who share my abilities - and all the Shoanti druids I met had horses. I prefer predators such as our own companions."
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"The plot just keeps thickening, doesn't it?" Jorag asked no one in particular as Mujenbai exited. Looking back and forth between the the Venture-Captain and the big Garundi, he shrugged apologetically at the Captain. "No time like the present it seems, I best get going as well." He added before bounding out the door after Mujenbai.
Themis eyes Marco askance with a befuddled expression on her face. Tilting her head, she said to him, "You should know as well as anyone that Dalirio Teppish was killed in Cestis' recovery mission. Your team reported that he was beyond the power of healing magics, did you not?" She pages through a ledger, apparently looking for the documentation. "Yes, here it is. We retrieved his body and it was interred in a pauper’s graveyard in the swamps east of Cassomir. A suitable fate for such traitorous scum. It sounds like more ravings of that cult of mad-men to me, Master Vail. Was there anything else?"
“You will need to watch your step in Swift Prison, remember you represent the Society within their walls. We believe at least 15 Cassomirites — all of them engineers, city planners, masons, and the like have fallen victim this time. Retrieve them alive if you can, but if you can locate the threat, end it by any means necessary. Maybe the cultist in Swift Prison can tell you where to start.” Themis nods to Cestis who approaches with another stack of missives from your various factions.
Osirion Faction Mission, optional (Alternate for Grand Lodge)
Taldan Faction Mission, optional (Alternate for Sczarni)
Information on Swift Prison:
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I misss-like thessse half measssured sssolutionsss. Freeing a few victimsss and eliminating a sssub-lieutenant of thossse resssponsssible hasss had no effect.
A problem isss not resssolved by sssmacking the hand. We mussst wrap body in our coilsss and crusssh the life from it. Then it isss not a problem.
And ssso. The next ssstep isss to quessstion thisss traitor for cluesss to the location of the body of the problem.
Let usss go.
Swift Prison’s formidable gates loom over all who pass beneath them. Out front, a gilded statue stares uncaringly at those who serve time beyond her sentry-like gaze. The wrinkled, dirty faces of Cassomir’s prisoners are briefly illuminated behind the bars of the ground floor begging cells. Their pathetic drone as they beg for coppers fills the courtyard in front of the prison.
Hestia’s man, Garver, approaches your group as you arrive. He is a tall Taldan man with a slim physique and plain peasant’s clothing.
“You made it. Good. I've arranged to escort you inside. Follow me.” Garver turns and enters the prison, marching through myriad hallways that twist and turn and finally end at a plain but thick wooden door. Garver produces a key and says, “Our captured cultist fancies himself an artist, and if you like his work, it’s all for sale. I should warn you, he's a bit... unstable. but when he’s lucid he provides good information about the cult and their plans. You're not to harm him, so probably best to begin with a friendly tactic, eh?”
Garver opens the door and leads you down several stone steps into a dingy, shadowed room with three cells. He claps the guard on the shoulder and shakes his hand as if slipping the man a coin in the process. "How's about we let the Pathfinders have some room to visit with your guest there, hmm? There's a good lad, you're due a break by now, eh?" The guard stares stupidly at his palm for a moment and then eyes the party curiously, but climbs the steps and shuts the door behind him without another word.
In the center cell stands a man dressed in torn beggar’s rags splashed all over with paint. His bare feet are shackled to the floor by a 3-foot length of chain which clinks along as he drags it behind him, maniacally throwing color onto a dirty canvas. He scrutinizes his work for a moment and then suddenly rakes a paint-crusted claw across the canvas leaving savage marks across whatever it was. He cries out in wordless delight and grasps the paining, brandishing it over his head like a prize beyond all wealth. "For you, my master! Always for YOU!" He exclaims through a toothless grin. He then lays the painting atop a small pile of apparent recent works and sets up another moldy, blank canvas, furiously attacking it with his brush. He does not seem to have noticed your entrance at all, so complete is his absorption in his work.
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Walking past the beggars, Jorag scrutinized their faces, looking for those who did not truly deserve the situation, tossing several silver coins to each. He said nothing, but gave Garver dirty looks when the mans gaze was elsewhere.
Having reached the cell and seen the state of its occupant, Jorag looked doubtful. "This man has been able to give good information?" He whispered to the others. "I must admit my hopes have been slightly dashed by his...display of character."
Walking slowly towards the cell, Jorag addressed him in a soft voice. "Enjoy painting I see? Im not personally good with art, it is mostly lost on me. Are you any good at it?" He said, stopping in front of the bars out of arms reach of its prisoner. "Im Jorag by the way.
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On the way to the prison, Marco silently reads the faction message. "I thought maybe the Dalirio rumors might have mixed him up with his twin, or maybe it would turn out they were triplets! Amenopheus seems to think he may have been risen by necromancy. Do the undead marry?"
Marco walks through the courtyard silently. He looks on few of the begging prisoners, consciously avoiding the question of whether they all deserved their conditions.
He speaks up as Jorag begins interacting with the cultist. "We were told that your paintings are for sale. Is that true? Will you show some of them to us?"
Garver notices Jorag's rigid jaw. "What's wrong, Pathfinder? I'd have thought you'd been in Cassomir long enough to know the cardinal rule by now. Money talks and bull$#!+ walks! Is it different where you come from?" He smiles pleasantly, as if well accustomed to judgmental looks on foreign faces.
The painter straightens from his work and squints through the dim lighting to see the speakers. "My paintings?" He shuffles toward the bars dragging the heavy chain behind him, his staggered steps halting as the chain pulls taut against his shackled ankle, stopping him short a full foot back from the bars. His eyes held a terrible awareness as he ran his gaze over his many visitors. "Of course, friends. The master has sent you to me... His patience knows no bounds. He beholds us all under his watchful gaze until the last life falls. Praised be He who ends the days! Do you seek my secret, friends? Soon enough — but in return I ask something from you. The vision is not yet revealed and I need it to complete my collection." He points to two paintings hung in a shadowy corner of his cell. A third canvas hangs next to them but is blank.
“Outside this very prison, you’ll find a statue covered in gold. You may have already seen her! Describe this statue to me as best you can - do not spare any detail - and I will be able to complete the vision. Only then can I tell you all I know.”
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Jorag smiled warily, leaving Mujenbai to complete the task alone, trusting in his eye for detail.
"well, seems you arent quite the raving lunatic I was expecting then." He stepped up to the bars, squinting at the paintings on the wall. "What Master do you speak of? I take it you arent refering to our venture captain, the one who sent us. Do you believe our presence here was set in motion by someone else?"
He looked up at the celing towards the courtyard above. "You mean to tell me you havnt seen the statue yourself then? Or does it maybe now bear a feature it didnt previously? Something to send you a message? Forgive my suspicious nature, but I am not so sure telling you anything of it would be wise."
The statue sits just outside of the prison’s gates, its golden form shining brightly in the sun. It stands just over 7 feet tall and rests atop a 3-foot-tall stone base. The statue depicts a curvy Taldan female with short hair and wearing flowing robes open at the neck. Her face is beautiful to behold but she regards you with a blank, uncaring expression. One gilded hand lifts a blindfold from her eyes while the other extends toward you with an open palm, demanding to be filled. Faint moons decorate her flowing robes, and she crushes a set of scales beneath her left foot.
Mujenbai notices a small detail that most might miss. The sculptor apparently left his mark on this work of art — a small letter “I” embossed into her left foot.
Back in the cell, the mad painter shakes his head violently at Jorag's words. "No, no... your captain sees naught, groping blindly before her in the dark. You venture into the light of my master now. I am His prophet, I am the Doom-seer. I live only to behold His visions. I must paint the gilded lady, then the scene will be complete."
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Marco turns to Jorag, but speaks loudly, more for Garver really than Jorag. "He means his master, Groetus. If he is his prophet, that would explain why so many of the rest of us find him confusing. We must seem foolish to him - the level he works at." He turns and speaks again to Garver. "This vision, is it a vision that is to come, or a vision of the present? There must be some marvelous things happening somewhere, with all the craftsmen and engineers that you've been, ah, recruiting."
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Selter is currently just following the others and observing.
Selter shakes his head in mild confusion, I don't think I will ever really understand the point of these prisons. If a creature is not a threat, why restrict it so? If it is a threat, why not just eliminate it and be done? It simply makes no sense to expend such tremendous resources to preserve a threat to society.
He does go with Mujenbai to look at the statue.
if take 20 is permissible in this case,
On the way back in, Selter asks the escort, Do you know why that statue is out there, who had it made, or why this creature is interested in it?
If Mujenbai misses any details that Selter noticed, he will fill in those gaps in the description.
As he hears the description of the statue, a strangely placid look comes over the painter's face. His eyes roll back in his head showing only yellow-whites orbs in the sunken sockets. His body shakes and for a moment, his eyes seem lit from within by a pale, bleak light. "Yes, I see it now..." is all he says before rounding on the blank canvas on the wall. He attacks with brush and fingers in artistic frenzy, splashing paint wildly about his cell. A few minutes pass as the image unfolds rapidly before the stunned Pathfinder's eyes. Once he is finished, he stumbles to his bunk, exhausted and panting, the strange light now gone.
His latest masterpiece is the first of the series, judging by it's position of the wall. The painting appears to be of Swift Prison itself, but it shows a terrifyingly skewed perspective. The once-beautiful statue stares back transformed, her visage twisted into a demonic snarl. Small, grey humanoids with large, white eyes prowl among the cells tormenting cowering prisoners in the painting’s background. In the foreground, a lone figure brandishes a radiant holy symbol as he falls before a horde of the grey creatures at the foot of the sinister statue.
The second painting depicts a stately, white stone building surrounded by three-foot-tall bas-reliefs which circle the building’s outside walls at ground
level. The same small grey creatures stand atop the halls steps and punish men bound in chains — all of whom appear to be wearing the robes of Taldan government officials. At the southwest corner of the building, the bas-relief glows a bright white where the same lone figure from the first painting attempts to sooth a group of frightened children by playing a flute — the notes of his music are actually painted above him on the canvas in striking detail.
The third painting depicts a retaining wall that shores up parts of a ruined district. It shows dozens of the angry grey humanoids smashing brightly painted urns against the retaining wall, while the same lone figure from the other paintings frantically attempts to push down an obviously barred door in the middle of the
wall, presumably to escape the rows of small menacing shadows that seems to pursue him.
With a strained voice, the mad painter begins to speak;
"Even mighty Gods make use of tools,
my master's reside in the Crypt of Fools.
Beneath Old Cassomir, hidden away
he waits until the blessed day.
They will invade the Hall of Wonders
in search of plans that must be sundered.
But our Champion must be tested,
for in the past he has been bested.
And so, here now, on your arrival,
Dalirio begins the final trial."
On the way back in, Selter asks the escort, Do you know why that statue is out there, who had it made, or why this creature is interested in it?
If Mujenbai misses any details that Selter noticed, he will fill in those gaps in the description.
"Sorry friend, I'm just the hired hand. The statue has been here for a long time as far as I know. This all seems odd to me, but I've come to expect odd things working for Hestia."
Garver shifts uncomfortably, seeming unnerved by what he has seen and heard. He clears his throat and says,
"As I mentioned the painter's works are for sale. The profits will allow him more, uh... comfortable living conditions here. The three you are looking over are 1 gold apiece and the others are all 5 silver each."
Garver calls the guard back and settles your account so that you may leave with all of the paintings, if you are done here.
Looking over the images, Jorag immediately recognizes the grey creatures as the Derro. He also notes that the moon iconography on the statue's robes appears to be some homage to Groetus by the sculptor.
Marco correctly identifies the second painting as being a government building, specifically Cassomir’s Imperial Hall of Records. Selter recognizes it as well, having passed right by it on the way to Swift Prison.
Jorag determines the third locale to be the ruins of Quickfall Abbey, a site holy to worshipers of the dead god Aroden, now in ruins and rumored to be haunted. He is certain the the lone figure shown in each scene is a representation of Aroden himself, as he has special significance in Taldan history. Often his image is used in Taldan lore to represent the spirit of heroism that may come forth in anyone as he walked the world under so many mundane guises.
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Marco poses his own questions to the prophet. "And here's where I will seem foolish to a prophet. The lone figure in each of these paintings is not the same Champion that you speak of, is it? Your Champion is a Champion of Groetus. Which of these buildings is the Hall of Wonders? Is it the Hall of Records? If the derro begin here, at this worthless prison, it must be because a passage led them here from the Crypt of Fools. Is that the reason it begins here? Is the passage in the prison, or is it part of the statue, or are there multiple passages leading into the prison?"
The mad painter is fading from consciousness, apparently spent from the ordeal of his vision. He nods his head slightly as Marco speaks.
"Dalirio received the Master's blessing, but he must prove himself against those who would stand in defiance of our holy doom."
With the words on his lips, his eyes slip shut and he falls into a deep slumber.
Garver speaks up as the painter cannot be awakened.
"The Hall of Wonders and the Imperial Hall of Records are two different places. I can guide you to either, but it sounds as if we might ought to get going, whichever you decide. I don't think the painter will be answering anymore questions today."
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With the questioned rather abruptly ended, Jorag slapped his hands together, rubbing them a few times. "Well gentlemen, seems we have our destinations. Shall we get on with it then?"
He made for the exit, confident the others would be right behind him, or at the very least, Mujenbai would be. "It might be worth staying on the prison grounds a little while though. Being the first picture, it may be what is to transpire first." He looked back, a worried frown creeping through his otherwise chipper demeanor. "And if this man really is some sort of prophet, I can imagine they would want to spring him at the first opportunity."
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As the Pathfinders head out, Marco addresses Garver, "Garver, you should tell the guards here to be wary, since the Prophet depicts this place as the first to be overrun. In fact, given the mercenary treatment of the prisoners, you may want to enlist their aid in seeking any hidden tunnels throughout the prison, in case there are means of entrance on the grounds. Offer some reasonable reward for any prisoner that finds a tunnel entrance, and I'm sure the job will be done within an hour or two. What's the price for a year of nice quarters?"
Outside, Marco takes a closer look at the statue, noticing all the details that Mujenbai and Selter discovered. Once again, he asks of Garver, "Why is this sculpture here? Who decided this was a good idea? It's satire! A prison where justice has its hand out for a bribe? It's bad enough it exists, but who would be ridiculous enough to advertise it proudly? Not to mention the symbology that apparently sends some hidden message to this evil cult of Groetus-worshippers. I can't fault anyone for not recognizing it, but now that we know, bringing this statue down and melting it into something useful should be the next priority for this prison after all of this clears up. Hmmm... do you know who the sculptor is, or when the statue was placed?"
Garver leads the Pathfinders through the streets of Old Cassomir, chatting with Marco as they go.
"I've given your warning as requested, Master Vail, but I doubt it will be taken very seriously. Swift Prison has stood the test of time, after all. I'm afraid I don't know the first thing about the statue, though. Suppose my eyes just slide past it after all this time. Taldor's monuments are often grandiose things... makes little difference to a man with practical concerns on his mind. I understand you see things differently, but the Swift has it's positive points as well. Inmates with a talent or craft can still practice it to support themselves. They don't generally become desperate or despondent the way an animal does when it's become too used to it's cage. There is always hope of a more comfortable bed or a more delicious meal. A family man can still stroll down the street with his wife on his arm and his son on his back. 'Tis only those without a friend left in the city to care for them that get the worst of it. Have you ever met a friendless man who was not deserving of the fate? And to top it all off, the place practically pays for itself." He shrugs amicably, seeming to enjoy the friendly discussion.
Garver's step hesitates as you come within view of an odd looking building with a more modern look than most of the surrounding architecture.
"Huh... They must be awfully busy today..." He scratches his head, seeming puzzled at the scene.
Smoke and steam pour through many openings of this misshapen building. Gears and gizmos can be heard clicking against one another in a rhythmic cadence. A loud "ka-chunk ka-chunk" sounds as several pistons churn up and down, powering some unknown machine. A cacophonous symphony of clinking, clanking metal plays on, punctuated by the occasional scream of an errant grinding of metal on metal. A huge, impressive sign, nearly the entire width of the building, declares it to be Cassomir's Hall of Wonders.
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Marco is happy to consider the function of Swift prison aloud on the way to the Hall. "The appeal of a prison that pays for itself certainly sounds promising in theory, but I think I have two major practical concerns. For one, what good is a prison that you can pay to stay out of? Even though a criminal may be non-violent, if he's convicted of an imprisonable offense, he's being let off by paying a fine instead. Which leads to the second concern: if the prison is dependent on rents paid by prisoners, isn't it inevitable that a defendant's finances becomes influential in his sentencing? The knowledge that a defendant can pay his way out of prison alleviates the responsibility that a magistrate should feel when deciding the fate of another human being, allowing him to pass that responsibility on to the... market, so to speak. In other words, a magistrate may reason that if the defendant is truly innocent, he should be able to earn the rent necessary to stay out of prison. Further, the ability to pay is more likely to become a factor in determining a defendant's sentence. For example, a successful businessman, accused of a crime too heinous to pay his way out of, may be found guilty of a lesser charge instead, so that he'll have the chance to give some of his wealth to the prison rather than rot in the lowest depths as he deserves for his actions. These influences may be conscious or unconscious, but they are inevitable, if they're not present already."
At the Hall, Marco suggests, "A peek through a window would be a good idea, to ensure that this suspicious industry is only a coincidence."