The Pathfinder Society sends you into the undead-ruled nation of Geb for an undercover mission, not disguised as undead, but temporarily transformed into a shambling, zombie version of yourself. Can you survive the ordeal to return to the land of the living, or will your final grave be among Geb’s bones?
A Pathfinder Society Scenario designed for 5th to 9th level characters (Tiers: 5-6 and 8-9).
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A booming voice calls out from the wood-paneled office’s open doorway. "Welcome! Welcome my friends! Please, have a seat." The speaker, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin, points to a number of chairs around his desk. He sounds friendly, but his smile seems forced.
"I’m not one for beating around the bush, so let me lay it out for you. Three weeks ago, we lost contact with an expedition of Pathfinders sent into Geb, led by a researcher from Absalom named Joktan Heth. He and the other members of his group were magically disguised as undead creatures and tasked with recovering an ancient tome known as the Testament of Geb, purported to be a scholarly treatise on the creation of new types of undead - intended specifically for use on the battlefield. Joktan’s mission was to sneak into the country, locate the Testament, and bring it back to the Vaults. He’s overdue and we fear the worst. We need you to undergo the same process of disguise, infiltrate Geb, and learn the whereabouts of Joktan, his team, and most of all, the Testament."
"Pathfinders, time is of the essence. If that book falls into the wrong hands, it could destabilize the entire Inner Sea region. We need that book and we have the utmost faith that you’ll do what’s necessary to make sure we get it. Any questions?"
Geb is a nation ruled by the undead. Intelligent undead have the same rights as the living (or even more), and the kingdom uses other undead as a form of cheap labor and as expendable, renewable soldiers in the country’s armies.
Because of the nation’s dependence and promotion of undeath, the faithful of Pharasma, goddess of death, often conduct raids into the country in an attempt to destabilize it, to destroy unholy sites, and eliminate the undead abominations that call Geb home.
Living creatures need to be careful while in Geb since they can become conscripts in the army, or used as sustenance for the various types of undead within the kingdom.
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"Ick. How exactly does this disguise work?"
"I know this place is really big on undead and most of their most important leaders are no longer living. But you do know they have a bad habit of using living creatures like us a fuel for their minions, right? I do NOT want to be fed to a spectre. this had better be a really, REALLY good disguise."
And I am DEFINITELY switching up my miracles.
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A figure dressed in a weathered gray duster slips silently out of the shadows. It is unclear when he entered the room or if he has been here the whole time. The vigilante's face is concealed underneath a leather plague doctor mask that has been modified to expose his natural beak, which is the same shiny black color as the patent leather of his mask. He has a long bow slung on his back and a pair of swords hanging from his belt but his razor sharp talons and long pointed beak seem just as dangerous as these weapons.
Despite his ominous appearance, his voice is rather shrill when he speaks.
"This must be quite the valuable grimoire indeed if it is worth risking two teams of Pathfinders to retrieve. Can you tell us anything about this man that was sent to retrieve it the first time, this Joktan Heth? Any clues that may help us pick up his trail would be greatly appreciated."
"Ick. How exactly does this disguise work?"
"The Society has in its possession an item known at the Chalice of Undeath. When used, it gives a creature the semblance of undeath, while the creature remains alive and maintains full control of its soul. Our experiments here show that until the process is reversed - by drinking from the chalice again - you will have the semblance and aura of an undead, and be affected by magic that also affects undead," Valsin explains. His expression grows serious. "Be warned that healing magic that affects living creatures will hurt you while you are in this state, just as it would any true undead."
"This must be quite the valuable grimoire indeed if it is worth risking two teams of Pathfinders to retrieve. Can you tell us anything about this man that was sent to retrieve it the first time, this Joktan Heth? Any clues that may help us pick up his trail would be greatly appreciated."
Valsin nearly jumps out of his skin as the stealthy tengu suddenly steps out of the shadows to speak. "Dark heavens! That kind of skill will serve you well in the field but next time give a man a little warning!"
"But to answer your question, Joktan Heth is a student of history, specializing in the war between Geb and Nex and the history of necromancy and undeath. He joined the Pathfinder Society early in his career and worked in the Vault helping catalog various artifacts and magical items. He discovered the Chalice of Undeath in the Repository and petitioned the Decemvirate to allow him to use its powers to travel into Geb in order to find the legendary Testament of Geb. Joktan was convinced that the Testament lies in the small farming town of Corpselight, and it's there that clues to his fate are likely to be found."
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"So I'm to be a finder again." A tall Chelaxian, wearing a rich blue cloak speaks up. He has distinctive features and for a moment you think he might be some nobility. That is, until you see his equipment and it speaks of butchery. Two short, curved knives sit on his belt, though he also carries a wickedly barbed net and a set of manacles.
"If this disguise works, we ought to be careful of being attacked by Pharasmins on the borders. They make raids into Geb from time to time."
"I want to be clear with our mission. The book and its secrets are more important than finding Heth and his team? Of course, getting them all out is preferred, but the ritual is what is dangerous, is it not? You say it's an ancient text. So why is it suddenly important that it be removed? Has Geb not had years to study it?"
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The teifling in the back of the room also wore a scowl when apprised of the mission. The others had been quicker to express their displeasure than he, but he became visibly more relieved when hearing the process of how simple it sounded to reverse.
”Another fine mess Zarta has gotten me in,” he whispered.
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A tall Sylph with long white hair, dressed in red and white robes and armor nods, clicking her tongue, "Tch, I do not like this undead solution, but if that is what must be done."
"I am Tiera Canamar, and I am glad to pledge my blade to this mission. But tell me, Venture-Captain, is there anything we should do to prepare for being in this state?"
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A small boy pops up from behind Valsin's desk, a steaming mug in one hand and a frosted white piece of cake in the other. "Hi, I'm Frankie! Sounds like we're gonna play dress up.. cool!" He takes a chomp out of the cake before setting it back down on the VCs desk and hopping down to mingle with the crew.
"I've been on rescues before, they aren't too bad, gotta be sneaky though, which, I am!" He puffs out his little chest a bit and takes a loud slurp from his mug. "When I want to be anyhow."
The little blonde boy looks to be around 10 years old with a knapsack on his back with the initials: GFF. A slingshot sticks out of a back pocket and you can see some shiny bits of mail showing under his long sleeved shirt.
"So Desna's healing magic won't work on us when we're disguised as dead people? Do we get to pick which dead people we look like? Can I be Elvis?!?"
"I want to be clear with our mission. The book and its secrets are more important than finding Heth and his team? Of course, getting them all out is preferred, but the ritual is what is dangerous, is it not? You say it's an ancient text. So why is it suddenly important that it be removed? Has Geb not had years to study it?"
Valsin seems to wince slightly at the implication of Aiden's words but then, reluctantly, nods. "As far as we can determine, the Testament is a book or scroll written by the infamous wizard-king Geb before he joined the ranks of the undead who served him. Not only does it discuss in depth a number of different types of undead, their creation, and their weaknesses, but it also includes formulae for constructing devastating undead weapons of war."
"If so...then yes, he's had years to study it or even perfect the formulae within, considering he's the one who supposedly wrote it. But there's been no indication of any unusual movement within Geb that'd support the production of such weapons. As to why he'd have such a thing and not use it...that's the question. Maybe he's waiting for something - who can know the motives of a creature that's millennia old? Or perhaps it's simply been forgotten with the passage of time. But whatever the case, if we can manage to spirit the Testament out of the country, the whole of Golarion will be better off for it!"
"As for Joktan..." the VC's voice trails off for a moment and then he sighs. "To be honest, I fear the worst. But if there's a chance that any of them are still alive, then we can't just abandon them to their fate. Find out what became of him and his team. If any are still alive, do all that you can to get them out."
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"I am Tiera Canamar, and I am glad to pledge my blade to this mission. But tell me, Venture-Captain, is there anything we should do to prepare for being in this state?"
"Good question," Valsin nods. "From what I'm told, one of the biggest things to keep in mind is that the ritual will change how certain magics will affect you. You'll radiate an undead aura but the ritual won't cloak you against more powerful effects that are intended to reveal truth. And of course the change in how healing magic as you're used to won't do the trick."
"Though I find it distasteful, I suggest that someone," meaning not me, "purchase a wand of inflict light wounds since my miracles will be unable to heal us while in this condition."
"It's not a wand but we do have some potions of Inflict Moderate Wounds available for you, eight in total I believe. But if you want to make additional preparations that's not a bad idea."
Unable to help himself, the VC adds, "And you're right - it's not an ideal situation but you'll all be safer in disguise than running around as your living selves for all the reasons that you already mentioned."
"And you'd be surprised at how many orders we get for those Infernal Healing wands..." he mutters under his breath.
"So Desna's healing magic won't work on us when we're disguised as dead people? Do we get to pick which dead people we look like? Can I be Elvis?!?"
"I, uh..." Valsin stammers, caught off-guard by Frankie's question...or perhaps just the realization that they're sending a child to do an adult's work. "If you can do a good job playing the part...then I don't see why not. But you have to be very convincing. You can do that, right son?"
"The inability to be healed is something I haven't considered. I would like the time to commission for some scrolls to be written."
"That also shouldn't be a problem. We can't dally around too long but there should be time for you all to pick up any last-minute supplies from the quartermaster before we begin the ritual."
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Aiden taps his lips in thought. "What exactly will look like? Zombies? Ghouls? Mindless undead might be easy to get around the country, but it'll be weird when we start asking questions of anyone. Uh, what about food? I'm not really looking forward to eating at a Geb Inn. Or does the spell take care of that?"
"Ok, get to Corpselight, find Heth, find the book, get out. Avoid accidently drinking a potion of cure. Did Heth mention where in Corpselight it might be? I would guess not at the local library."
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Frankie quickly mobilizes on hearing the challenge from Valsin "I'll be the bestest dang dead Bubba Hotep you've ever SEEN!" Whoever that is... He flips off his backpack and disappears behind the man's desk, giggling as he crashes and thrashes his way through not only his backpack but also the man's trash can and a couple of his desk drawers.
After a few minutes some growling builds under the desk as a hideous, ravenous CREATURE OF DEATH! emerges. "BRAINZ!" He shrieks! The man's blue garbage can affixed to the boys head and streaks of brown cocoa powder darken his eyes. He's even got some strips of paper stuck all over his body almost like mummy wraps with a hint of maple.
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"Yea, no kidding. I don't think I'm going to enjoy this. And I'm rather hoping there is another way than using the Chalice. Is there?"
Because if there is not, and that Chalice goes missing, ... I'd rather not think about it.
Guy does not like the idea of being stuck as undead without being able to reverse the process at will. His imagination is running rampant at the moment.
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Aiden taps his lips in thought. "What exactly will look like? Zombies? Ghouls? Mindless undead might be easy to get around the country, but it'll be weird when we start asking questions of anyone. Uh, what about food? I'm not really looking forward to eating at a Geb Inn. Or does the spell take care of that?"
"Ok, get to Corpselight, find Heth, find the book, get out. Avoid accidently drinking a potion of cure. Did Heth mention where in Corpselight it might be? I would guess not at the local library."
Valsin chuckles. "You lot have a lot of questions - but that's good. Better to be thorough than have to fly by the seat of your pants later on. Let's see...I believe you'll come out looking roughly like ghouls. Not a bad outcome since they're known to be intelligent but can also be quite feral, so you can express yourselves as either depending on the situation."
"Hunger shouldn't bother you while in your undead forms. After all, most undead don't need to eat in the strictest sense...they just enjoy it..." Valsin shudders. "And I'm afraid Heth didn't have anything more specific for a lead than 'Corpselight'."
"Whoa! Quite convincing and that's without the chalice," the VC applauds. "Once the illusion is laid over you then no one will have a clue that you're anything other than, uh, Bubba Ho-tep!"
"And what if we need to reverse the spell. Will we be able to?"
"You won't be able to reverse it while out in the field," Valsin answers. "But once you return, we'll get the effect reversed right away. I know that's not the answer you wanted to hear, but believe me when I say that this is the best way to let you move about in Geb without attracting an undue amount of attention to yourselves."
He steps forward and gives Guy a sympathetic clap on the shoulder, leaning in close to whisper something to the priest.
"Courage, friend. I know this is a lot to ask of you but I wouldn't have requested you for this if I didn't think you were cut out for it. And if things should get ugly...the team will need your light to cut through the darkness."
Valsin then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small token, offering it to one of you. "We'll teleport you to an isolated position in north-central Geb, near the city of Graydirge but not near enough that anyone should see you suddenly arrive. From there you will need to head toward Corpselight, to the east of the city. Once your mission is completed, send word via this magic token and we will have you teleported back to Skyreach."
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Sensing the uneasiness of the human, Guy, Molos can’t resist the opportunity to tease him a bit further. ”Grrrrr. Arghhhhhh. That’s all you are going to able to say. You sure your magic will still work, Guy?”
Naturally, Guy rises to the bait, already not the most secure of people.
"WHAT? Huh? Oh dear, you could be right. I'll have to make sure of that as soon as the transformation occurs."
Guy nods at Valsin and tucks his head a little higher and recites his usual pre-mission litany in his head, though a lot more earnestly this time.
No guts, no glory. No guts, no glory. No guts, no glory...
So engrossed and self absorbed is he that he totally misses the exchange between Valsin and Lil Frankie until startled out of his reverie by the shouted "BRANZ" at which points he jumps a bit.
"Do you HAVE to do that?"
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VC Valsin does his best to keep a straight face in response to 'Bubba's' antics but can't quite manage to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching, as though fighting back a smile.
"Nothing wrong with a little levity, even in the midst of unpleasantness." He steps out from behind the desk and looks all of you over for a moment before continuing. "No more questions? Very well. We must move quickly then."
After allowing you to make your last-minute preparations and purchases he leads you to a special room in Skyreach where a number of mages wait you, as does a large cup, carved from bone and engraved with runic symbols signifying life and death, that sits upon a pedestal.
"Once the ritual is completed, these same mages will transport you to Geb. Take care, Pathfinders, and godspeed," Valsin murmurs, giving each of you a heart handshake (should you be willing) before stepping back to allow the ritual to begin.
All in all, it's actually a very simple affair - water is poured in from a pitcher, and each of you is given the chalice in turn to drink from. The process isn't particularly painful but neither is it pleasant. You first notice a change with your teeth as they grow unusually sharp. You feel your nails lengthen and thicken into claws. But perhaps the most disorienting sensation is the feeling of cold that settles over each of you, seeping deep down to your bones as though you were caught in a snowstorm - yet you feel no pain. Breathing in brings a wealth of strange sensations, most noticeably the scent of meat and of blood. The meat and blood of the living.
Looking around, you see that while everyone's skin has become grey and mottled, their eyes red, ears pointed, they're still largely recognizable as themselves. Just...dead-looking.
You scarcely have time to comprehend these changes before the mages begin their teleportation spell, and the room in Skyreach blurs and shifts away from your sight. Moments later, the world materializes into a hazy swamp, the few plants within as dry and colorless as one would expect in a nation ruled and inhabited by the undead. Ghostly pale moonlight provides illumination and a mournful wind blows slowly from the south, carrying with it the unmistakable sickly sweet scent of long-dead flesh mixed with newly spilt blood. Only the sound of rustling brush breaks the tomblike silence.
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The Ghostwriter sees what little Frankie did; because the Ghostwriter sees everything. He quietly approaches the little halfling and whispers, "I see what you stole young man. You need to turn that over to an adult, because if you do lose it we will all be in very, very big trouble."
The Ghostwriter pulls up the sleeve of his coat to see that his glossy black feathers have turned into a ashy gray. He sees that his talons also appear to have become even longer and sharper than before and when he touches his beak he realizes that other weapon of his also feels deadlier.
"These are an improvement in many ways! I could truly strike terror in the hearts of wrong doers in this form!" the vigilante says enthusiastically. His shrill voice is now a little more raspy, with a subtle rattling sound.
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Guy immediately casts a guidance miracle on himself and is relieved to feel the generous boost that accompanies the spell. Though he dies struggle to pull out the right spell components with his hands so malformed.
"Well, that's a relief, though I hope these annoying talons don't get in the wa... OUCH! Bit my lip. Weird, no blood. Let's get this over with please."
he says the last while waving in the general direction of Corpselight.
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Aiden turns to the others and a snarling ghoul stares at them. Then he stops and chuckles, looking down at his claws and feeling the fangs with his unnaturally long tongue. "Not bad. This could be useful in a pinch." He sniffs the air. "Oh, that's an interesting sensation. I suddenly feel like eating pork..."
He tries to lope along like he's seen other undead do as they make their way towards Corpselight.
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"Do you HAVE to do that?"
A much quieter "Brainz" wafts up from under the table in response. As they're getting ready to leave he drops the magic token into the Ghost Writer's pocket.
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Not to be outdone by anyone, Bubba Ho-tep Frankie rushes to the front of the line for first dibs of the chalice. "Ooo pick me, pick me!" He hops and waves at the attending mages, not wanting to be left out, nor having to wait for the supreme fun he's about to have.
"GAG! Water? Yuck." He sticks it out though and gulps down the offering, then quickly washing it down with his own drink from his waterskin.
The transformation completes quickly and Bubba Ho-Tep stands before the group "Huh, cool! You all smell funny!" He sniffs himself and shakes his head, now understanding why Meredith always tried to get him to take baths.
Frankie sniffs the air, wondering just where this town is.
After taking a few moments to marvel at the 'gifts' your new forms grant you, you quickly gain your bearings and begin setting off in the general direction of Corpselight. Thanks to the information given to you by VC Valsin, combined with your newfound senses, the going is actually easier than it would have been in your natural forms. And while the swamp you seem to find yourselves in is wet and uncomfortable even to your cold and clammy undead skin, it seems to be no more than 1 to 1 & 1/2 feet deep at the most and as such isn't too difficult to slog through.
As you reach a bit of dry ground littered with the ruins of what might have once been a home, everyone but Molos suddenly hears something besides the low, mournful whistling of the wind. The sounds of chanting and shuffling footsteps approaching your position from the north...
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Stealth? Not Guy. By now you have noticed he has two left feet. Besides he just freezes in place in a seizure of fear as his fellow pathfinders find various ways to disappear (some quite a bit more effectively than others) and leave him there.
Feeling his mortality threatened he casts a quick DC 17 Sanctuary spell on himself.
As you realize that someone (or several someones, judging by the sounds) approaches, everyone save Guy quickly scatters into nearby bushes, shadows, anywhere that might prove a suitable hiding spot. The priest freezes like a deer in the glow of a lantern light but finally regains enough presence of mind to cast a protective spell on himself.
After a few moments several humanoid forms come shambling into sight. At the front, ostensibly leading the rest, is a creature wrapped from head to toe in ancient strips of moldering linen accompanied by three armored skeletons. All four of them also wear filthy remnants of military uniforms and one of the skeletons carries a unit banner that billows softly in the light breeze of the night. They are followed by several apparently mindless undead in chains.
The skeletons are a type of undead known as skeletal champions. These appear to have been warriors, when they were alive.
The group shambles closer...and then the linen-wrapped leader silently raises a hand and the entire procession comes to a halt. Burning red eyes fix themselves upon Guy.
"Who are you? In the name of His Eternal Majesty, identify yourself." The voice is dry and deep, sounding like a wind from a just-opened tomb. He then turns and pointedly looks in the direction of each and every one of you that are attempting to hide. "That goes for you, you, you, you, and especially you. It is strange to see such a large group out in the countryside. What is your business? Where are you headed?"
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The Ghostwriter slinks forward, and hisses at the undead, "Do not make us tarry. We are on the trail of some very dangerous living creatures. They are too clever to catch with a big patrol and too strong to send just one of our kind. One is a cleric of Sarenrae, a dark haired woman of Garundi descent. There is also a Varisian warrior who wields a pair swords and a barbarian woman who carries the sword of a giant on her back. There may also be an elf with a brace if throwing knives and an elderly human wizard with them. If you see them, be careful. They have destroyed many of our kind already."