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A tall, Bonuwat man with close-cropped hair, a green dragonhide breastplate, and a deinonychus stands waiting. "No where are they sending us, Shredder?" he asks the dinosaur. "Somewhere that you can tear something up, I should imagine." he answers himself.
He notices the other Pathfinders around him, only barely. "And who might you lot be?"
The dinosaur looks up at his master, bouncing slightly. You hear a 'tap, tap, tap' as his talon taps the floor.
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Earlier, you received a letter from Sheila Heidmarch:
Greetings,
Once again we find ourselves at the forefront of a great discovery involving Thassilon.
Please meet up with your fellow agents in the Publican House in Riddleport. It is a
popular tavern and a temple to Cayden Cailean. Once you’ve gathered together, proceed
to the Shoanti camp location marked in the map I’ve given you, south of the Calphiak
Mountains near the shores of the Varisian Gulf. There you will meet with the Shoanti
leader Tide Watcher. She contacted me for help after her discovery of a Thassilonian
ruin near their homes.
I trust you understand how rare it is for the Shoanti to reach out for help, and how
vital this makes your mission. Continued friendly relationships with the Shoanti are a high
priority for the Society, as is learning whatever you can about this ruin and its original
purpose. A word of caution, though—I know little about what you may face ahead. If the
mission proves too dangerous, do not let your pride as new agents stand in the way of
common sense.
I’ve enclosed money to pay for your passage and provisions along the journey. Try not
to spend it all in one place.
Sincerely,
Sheila Heidmarch
The letter came with a map, a small pouch of gold coins.
You the adventure in Riddleport, a port city in Varisia famous for the massive stone arch at its center and its tendency to attract unsavory types. You meet up at the Publican House, a popular tavern and temple to Cayden Cailean, before departing to follow the map that the venture-captain provided. The journey to the Shoanti village proceeds without incident.
The sound of crashing waves and seabirds mixes with the smell and cool spray of saltwater at the entrance of a wide, low sea cave open to the Varisian Gulf. A bustling community is hard at work in the dim morning light: tall, tattooed men and women clean and fillet fish, while others toss crustaceans into pots; a group of older children sit in a circle on the sand near the water’s edge and repair nets and harpoons; nearby, several women are busily patching holes in a small boat.
"This is not a sight very many outsiders ever see, Pathfinders," says a tall, muscular woman. Her head is shaved and tattoos line her shoulders, arms, and neck. "But we are pleased you have come. Kel-grish! Welcome! Let us walk."
"I am Tide Watcher, the jothka of this tribe," she says, as she leads the way onto a small path heading up the hill above the cave. "As you probably know, the Shoanti do not often call upon outsiders for help. But this is a special circumstance." She stops atop the hill and takes a deep breath of the wind blowing off the water before turning to the hills and mountains to the north.
"Two weeks ago I stood watch on this spot, minding both the water and the land. Suddenly a plume of flame rose into the air in the hills there." She points slightly northwest. "[/b]I took a group of warriors to investigate. When traveling down familiar caverns, we soon found a place where the floor had recently collapsed into another series of tunnels that had smooth, worked walls. Then we found the stone door. It flickered with flame and was deeply carved with the runes we know to be the language of Thassilon."[/b]
She pauses, a sour look on her face. "It is forbidden to explore places marked with these runes, so I thought it best to simply try to collapse the cave entrance and be done. But then I saw the door was open. Something had either gotten in or gone out. I sent word to our allies in Magnimar of what we’d found. I contacted Sheila Heidmarch specifically because I have heard that under her direction, the Pathfinders have made fair dealings with the Shoanti, laid the spirit of an ancient symbol of peace to rest, and stopped a Runelord from rising once again. Five days ago, a priest named Julian arrived from Magnimar and claimed he could seal the door. He worships a good god of monuments, he said, and was confident he could succeed. I have not seen him since, however, so I do not know what has happened."
Tide Watcher turns to the group. "Pathfinders, I want you to learn the nature of this place beyond the door and determine if it is a threat to my tribe. If it is within your ability to eliminate it, do so. If not, we will discuss closing off the cave entrance permanently. Do you have any questions?"
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Polanco scratches his butt kind of not paying attention as he arrives at this location I gotta be honest, I don't know why they keep sending me to deal with these weird tribes in the middle of nowhere, I dinnae think I am that good with new people! Or with Thassilon. I am good at keeping brainy scrawny scholar types who do know dead languages alive though the scraggly bearded, possibly drunk Dwarf wielding a spiked paddle mutters all this to himself as they approach.
Aye Tide Wtcher, I be Polanco Goldhammer and I'm about as outside as they come, but yer sitch-ee-ation sounds downright intristin'. ye dinnae think theres another Runelord in there do ye? Cus if so, I think I am gonna go give that Sheila a piece of my mind! De ye think this is maybe not a monument if yer boy Monument Man didn't do so hot?
He offers the man his flask Also what in tarnation is a jothka?
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A tall man, dressed in comfortable leathers and a long, flowing cloak, chews his his lip thoughtfully.
"Alright then... so we are to explore an ancient ruin, and (if possible) eliminate any threats within. Seems straight-forward enough. I can help manage things of an arcane nature, and have some skill with scholarship... do we have any among us that are skilled with locks and cunning devices...?"
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"I can burn locks and cunning devices," replies the wild-haired halfling with a satisfied grin.
"Don't be so sure, Goldhammer. A cleric of Sarenrae wouldn't thrive so well on the surface of the sun, let me tell you. So, hills erupting in flames and a door flickering with fire... sounds like I'm going to enjoy this expedition."
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"Naw... locks ain't my thing. Ain't Shredder's thing, either. But, between the two of us, we can track a dust mote on a windy day... we're hunters. Pure and simple. Don't any of you be callin' us 'primitive', though. Shredder, he don't like that much. An' you don't want Shredder on your bad side." says Alaric.
Shredder stops chewing on his bone for just long enough to acknowledge his name. Talon still tapping, he chews away.
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"A tribal leader, jothka are tribal leaders. A Runelord? It is forbidden to walk close to or into these ruins. We never investigated what's inside the caves. The priest is a tall, skinny man with dark hair and a shaved face." Tide Watcher answers.
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Mardonius tries to recall all that he knows about Thassilon and shares it with the rest of the group. "According to my studies, Thassilon was an empire that is now located in Varisia. The empire ended thousands of years ago and a seven-pointed star, called the Sihedron, is it's common art theme."
He also follows up the explanation of the Tide Watcher regarding jothkas. "Yes. There are seven clans and each clan is headed by their leader, or jothka as they call them."
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Stephen nods to Mardonius.
"Correct. There were also seven realms in Thassilon, each controlled by a powerful practitioner of magic called a runelord. Each treated his or her own realm as a kingdom onto itself. This area of Varisia was likely in the kingdom known as Bakrakhan, domain of wrath, ruled by Runelord Alaznist. Runelord Krune recently attempted to rise again, but the Pathfinder Society stymied his efforts.
Each Runelord was associated with a sin and tied to a school of magic: envy to abjuration, gluttony to necromancy, greed to transmutation, lust to enchantment, pride to illusion, sloth to conjuration, and wrath to evocation. Thassilon came to an end in the great cataclysm known as Earthfall, but it is suspected the Runelords all had preparations in place that would allow them to survive, perhaps even until the present day."
"Historians are suspicious of the fact that there are seven quahs of Shoanti, seven realms of Thassilon, and seven points on the Sihedron. Some speculate that the Shoanti were either servants or slaves of the Runelords in ancient times, and their taboo against exploring Thassilonian ruins comes from that relationship."
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Polanco looks really puzzled at this statement. Well then why dinnae ye just say "I am Tide Watcher th'Tribal Leader." Och well it dinnae matter.
Polanco takes a drag of ale as he listens to Stephen Strange - weird name that. Society always sticks Polanco with the weirdest nerds to babysit.
That's a good point by Steve there, eh! Tide Watcher would ye say yer tribe is particularly Prideful....or Wrathful....or envious....jess askin so's we can be prepared. Polanco asks with no shame or comprehension that it might be offensive.
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Tide Watcher looks at Polanco. "No, I would not say so. We are proud of our ancestry, but that's all." she answers while raising an eyebrow.
"If there are no more questions, I'd say pack what you need and we move to the caves as soon as possible." Tide Watcher says and begins the descent.
After a half-mile hike north guided by Tide Watcher, you arrive at a makeshift camp outside a cave entrance guarded by several warriors. The scouts here have not been inside recently, nor have they seen the priest since he entered. They have been ordered to remain outside to keep any enemies from emerging.
"From here on, I cannot follow you any more. No Shoanti would ever enter the caves. Good luck, Pathfinders." Tide Watcher says.
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Lasair stretches with a yawn, then procures a torch from his backpack. He flicks his hand next to it and whispers some mysterious words, and the torch lights up.
"Guessing it's gonna be dark down there."
After a few moments of silence, the halfling turns to Polanco. "And if I may ask, Mr. Dwarf, what is this crazy-looking weapon you're wielding?"
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You decide to enter the caves as soon as possible. After several hundred feet of twisting, turning, and often cramped passageways, the caverns here begin to widen somewhat. Broken arrows and short, makeshift swords litter the ground, and a rotting corpse lies slumped in a corner. Blood, now dried, is splattered on many of the rocks nearby. The passage continues to the east.
Alaric finds tracks of several dozen goblins in this part of the tunnes, as well as signs of a battle.
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Alaric thinks on the dwarf's comment of darkness, and with a simple tap and a simple "hebu iwe na nuru", his wayfinder starts glowing with light. He looks to the others as if to challenge them to do the same.
"Shredder is plenty fast, so can make it up from the back, and nature will speed my feet as well. Could someone use my wand of mage armor on Shredder? I promise he won't bite.."
"...much." he finishes under his breath.
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"Ah, damn. I knew I forgot something. This is the third mission in a row I fail to remind myself to pick up a wayfinder." The halfling shrugs and takes the wand of mage armor from Alaric, examining it while talking to himself. "Well," he mumbles, "torches are so much more fun."
Approaching the dinosaur carefully but with no trace of fear, Lasair waves the wand, knowing fully well that much movement is not necessary for the activation of wands. He then points it at Shredder, who suddenly becomes covered by a translucent coat of energy.
"Voilà, or whatever they say in your language. I should study Human ethnic languages more."
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Polanco beams with pride as he points to his big spiky paddle This...is what they call are Tair-Boot-Yay down there in the Mwangi Expanse. It's made o' this special bat-killing wood. Some of them Ay-koo-jay elves gave it to me and said I could take it with me when I left. Pretty boss ain't it?
Polanco looks at the dead goblins and his nostrils flare It jes had to be Goblins eh?
Shredder sniffs around.
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"Shredder, you don't wanna be sniffing around there. Nothing but dirty, dead goblins."
"Tere, looks here like the goblin died of puncture wounds and from fire. Seems like a normal goblin death... and life.
"Looks like there were two groups of them. One group fled west, while the other continued east. So, we should be on the lookout for goblins."
He then walks up and bats the dinosaur in the nose, as he was looking to take a bite out of the dead goblin. "Shredder, that thing's been sitting there for a couple of weeks! You really don't want to eat it."
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About 100 feet beyond the battle site, you locate a place where a boulder broke through into the tunnels below. The collapse formed a ramp that is easy to navigate.
The passageway twists sharply to the left after another 100 feet, opening into a wider room. Dim, flickering light illuminates a natural chamber roughly 30 feet by 10 feet. Stalactites cling to the ceiling and a few stalagmites rise from the floor. The air is damp and clammy. At the eastern end of the room stands a 10-foot-wide double door set into the wall.
Flames flicker about the columns and lintel, casting the spiky, spidery runes covering the surfaces into sharp relief. The doors are partially open.
Next to the door sits a man, exhausted and desperately trying not to fall asleep. He looks at you, but he's too tired to get up.
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"My name is Julian. I came here to seal this door, but something prevents my ritual from taking hold. I could raise the wall of force to keep the magic energies seeping from the ruins beyond inside. Did the Shoanti send you to help me?" Julian whispers.
From his clothes and equipment you can tell that the man is a cleric. He carrys a holy symbol: the crooked spire of stone covered in strange, astronomical writings.
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"I'm fine, just tired. I'm not injured, but I can't hold this wall much longer. I'm awake for almost five days now, renewing the wall every ten minutes. Please, head beyond the door and eliminate whatever focus of magical energies you can find: it might be a creature or an object. Once you’ve done that, I should be able to finish a permanent ward."
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"Given that this is likely a stronghold of Bakrakhan, I’d expect to see evocation magic used against you. Bakrahkan was also known for using fleshwarping magic to make more powerful soldiers. And I stumbled across a dead goblin on my way in. Maybe they are still lurking inside the caves." Julian answers to Stephen's question. "Please, do you have some water for me?" His voice is barely audible.
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"I'm a cleric of Soralyon, the Mystic Angel. I’m almost certain the ruins were part of the realm called Bakrakhan, ruled by Alaznist, Runelord of Wrath."
Julian drinks a few sips before continuing. "Thassilon was a powerful, sinful empire that ended 10,000 years ago. Its rulers wielded incredible magic, and the hazards they left behind often persist to the present. I see it as my duty to serve Soralyon and protect the modern world from these ancient dangers."