The Blakros Museum rises into the night sky, its single black spire severing the full moon in twain. The black iron gates surrounding the exhibition hall grind in protest against the wind. Beyond, the museum’s large oaken doors stand wide open, a silver-gray mist belching forth from the cavernous darkness within. You wonder how you ended up here, standing at the precipice of unknown terrors, and instantly Venture-Captain Adril Hestram’s wide looming face is conjured into your minds’ eye. His booming words ring out from memory as clearly as he spoke them only one hour ago:
“The Blakros Museum is cursed. Some darkness has descended upon the place and those who enter are blasted with evil and left raving through its halls, more beast than men. The curator, Nigel Aldain, is an old associate of the Society, though he chose to leave our organization some years back after a disagreement.” Adril looked sheepish then, as if remembering some distasteful incident from his youth.
“Nigel has long denied the Society access to the Blakros Museum’s considerable collection of relics and scrolls, using his extensive contacts to nab several excellent finds right out from under us... he always had a nose for the hunt. Whatever is past between Nigel and the Society, he needs our help now. Perhaps if we can come to his aid, he may think on rejoining the Pathfinder Society, or at least offering to share his discoveries with us.”
“Apparently the trouble at Blakros Museum began this morning, shortly after a wayward Pathfinder named Lugizar Trantos returned to Absalom after months spent in the Mwangi Expanse. Supposedly, instead of coming straight to the Lodge to report in, he went to Blakros, sold his finds to Nigel,and then disappeared with a hefty sum of gold. The few who glimpsed Lugizar claimed he was much changed by his time in the Mwangi... gaunt, his eyes yellowed and unfocused, a strange rasping cough that seemed to wrack his now wasted frame. Whatever he brought back with him, we believe it is the cause of the Blakros Museum’s ills. Root it out.”
You look around at your companions. One is a towering bear of a man with braids and skin that point out his Ulfen heritage, he was the veteran that the lodge sent on this mission. Another is a stocky dwarf who does not seem to be wearing armor, however he seems to carry a set of what you think are keys along with standard adventuring gear. the last two seem to be a pair of gnomes, yes I said gnomes. One is preoccupied looking up at the night sky as if he is studying the stars themselves. The other is a bit shorter wearing robes leaning on a gnarled cane as it is obvious that there is something wrong with one of his legs. He seems to have a tattoo or a birthmark on his right cheek.
Nolin(Untrained)
Ursus(Untrained)
Smoggin(Untrained)
You notice the birthmark on the other gnome's face looks an awful lot like the holy symbol of Pharausma, the Lady of Graves. You know that she is the goddess of death.
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True to his namesake Ursus is a roaring giant - loud and boisterous and with a presence that is almost impossible to ignore. Even then, during the short sea voyage to the isle the museum calls home you quickly learn that beneath the musclebouond Ulfen's crass exterior is an honorable heart and loyal ally. He smiles often and laughs even more.
"Well met, fellow Pathfinders. The name is Ursus", the big warrior says offering a fierce meaty handshake.
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"Pleased to meet you, Smoggin Stargazer," the gnome introduces himself. His clothing give him away as far travelled, and not native to the region. He also seems to enjoy a good laugh, with all the wrinkles around his eyes. But somehow he seems a bit odd, as whenever he takes something out of hispockets, it just lands far away from him.
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"Bartleby." The gnome with the gnarled cane replies, pulling back his hand and wiping it on his robe. At first it seems he is glaring at Ursus out of the corner of his eye, then he turns his face and it becomes apparent that one of his eyes doesn't look in the same direction as the other, though it's hard to tell which one does, or whether he's ignoring the big man now or was doing so previously.
After you introduce yourselves, you start thinking back to right
after you were given the mission. You all took some time to prepare
for it in your own individual way.
@Ursus - You remember seeing one of your favorite women in the Petal district for a some fun. After you were finished, she left to go wash up. As she got up you spotted a piece of paper under where she was lying. Or perhaps she dropped it? In any case when you picked it up, it had writing on it!
Honored Servant of the Empire,
This Blakros Museum is possessed of a number of interesting pieces.
Weapons are fine, gold is always amusing, but me, I am more intrigued by masks—the more exotic the better. They can prove most useful, especially with so many fascinating balls and parties approaching. Collect for me at least four masks unlike any to be worn by other dilettantes of Oppara this season. Do this and you shall bask in the beneficent radiance of my gratitude.
Honorably,
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
@Bartelby - You were walking out of a shop where you had just haggled for some goods. You made out like a bandit and obviously the merchant was a sucker.As you passed an alleyway, a large imposing Varisian man bumped into you. "Sorry."He said and he kept walking.
Afterwards, you felt something in one of your pockets. It was a note!
Little Brother,
I know a guy who tells me that your going to the Blakros Musuem. In addition to your usual "liberating" I need you to get 4 exotic looking masks for me. Don't ask me why because I ain't sayin. Just do it and you'll be rewarded.
The Family
@Nolin - You were quietly reading in the grand library for some peace and quiet. You had picked out a book on the Mwangi hoping on some insight history of the region. However, when you opened it, someone had written on the back of the cover! Some no good kids obviously,
but when you look at what seemed to be petty vandalism, you see it says
something unusual
Most Worthy One,
The Ruby Prince loves his subjects as you well know, but even he has enemies among Osirion’s greatest families. The Matl family has long proven a thorn in his side, and indeed their duplicitous brood has plagued our great nation for centuries, ever since Lakma the Usurper claimed control over the family’s destiny. Thankfully the arm of history is long-reaching, and we at court have long suspected Lakma’s treachery.
The true ancestor of the Matl family was one Taltuma-Matl, a wise servant of the pharaohs. His true will was never discovered, and in it he most likely names a distant cousin as the beneficiary of his family’s wealth and honors (knowing full well his closer kin, Lakma, was nothing but a vile, self-serving wretch). It has come to our attention that Taltuma’s remains are housed at the Blakros Museum, beyond our reach. We believe his last will was interred with him. Find it. If we can prove Lakma had no legitimate claim to his family’s holdings, we can embarrass his descendants at court who vex the Ruby Prince, thus solidifying his power and perhaps even paving our way to glory.
In Unfathomable Gratitude,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
@Smoggin - You were sitting down for a nice meal and when you reached into your coin purse to pay, the money flew out and landed a few feet away from you. You got up to go after it, but it kept jumping farther and farther until it stopped halfway across the room. You eventually picked it up and paid for your food. However when you got back, you found a note sitting on top of your napkin.
Golden Servant of Qadira
We are, as ever, interested in the ebb and flow of great treasures. The Blakros Musuem in Absalom houses some of the world's most interesting oddities and trades them freely with the world at large. Our Satrap would know where these treasures flow to and at what cost. As you pursue whatever dust devil of foolishness the Pathfinder Society would have you chase in Blakros, be sure to keep an eye out for the musuems accounts and records of transactions. Retrieve them for me and your glory will know no bounds.
A Fellow Servant of the Satrap,
Pasha Muhlia Al-Jakri
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"Well let's get on with it then", Ursus says once the introductions are complete. "A friend of the Society needs us".
The big warrior looks around at his companions.
"Seeing as how you're all pretty green still it might be best if I pick up the rear and let you all handle the heavy lifting", the burly Ulfen says with a chuckle. "That way you'll have more to report on our chronicle when this is all done."
"Nolin, you mind getting the door?", Ursus asks as he strings his massive bow.
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"Yes, yes, let's hurry up, no time to waste", Smoggin comments, and seems to be rather excited about the prospect of going on an investigation. Also sometimes he seems to be a bit absent, as if lsitening to strange voices in his head. As he steps towards the door a slight eerie noise can be heard and breeze comes through the door, even as it is not open yet.
Nolin sneaks up to the door and looks for any traps. There seems to be no traps in the vicinity. Ursus hefts out his giant bow that looks like it was made from the trunk of a redwood. Smoggin nervously looks around for any potential dangers, but due to the lack of stars in the sky and the fog rolling in, he does not see anything. Kobash calls upon the Lady of Graves to bless his party with extra vitality. As Nolin steps into the room, the mist fills your lungs.
Bartleby
Nolin
Smoggin
Ursus
Almost immediately Nolin's eyes furrow and he seems to take on simian
features on his dwarven face. His primal rage takes over and he begins to step towards the rest of you to relieve his new found agression.
Bartleby
Nolin
Smoggin
Ursus
You gain the Mist Tainted Template.
An afflicted creature’s Intelligence and Charisma scores
are both reduced to 6, and the creature gains a +2 bonus to
its Strength and Dexterity scores. Additionally, the creature
becomes immune to fear, gains a +10 bonus on Climb checks
(and a climb speed of 20 feet), and gains a +5 bonus on
Acrobatics and Stealth checks. The creature also gains a slam
attack (1d4 damage for Medium creatures). This template adds
+1 CR to the base creature.
You are a savage beast with your only concern being destruction of those around you. I.E Attack the closest target which is Kobash
Nolin fueled by his primal urges ignores Ursus' warning and hits Bartleby right in the stomach. Bartleby is still standing, but he is in bad shape. He seems to be barely on his feet.
extra damage
Ursus pummels the dwarf into deep unconsciousness. After he slumps to the ground, you see some vapors leaving his body. His dwarven features are restored.
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Smoggin looks in disbelief, as the action unfolds around him. "This is not a good beginning he mutters, not good at all." He seems rather upset, "what to do, what to do," he mutters, then checks on both of them. "They need healing," he comments the obvious, assuming Nolin is fine again hn casts cure light wounds on both of them.
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"Wow, you have a wand?" Smoggin comments and raises an eyebrow. He takes, but as if a poltergeist takes it, the wand just clutters out of his hands, and falls a few feet away to the ground. Embarassed Smoggin hustles after it, "my apologies, my apologies, I don't know, but this always happens to me." He picks up the wand and heals both of them again.
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Leaning precariously over his cane, his breath coming in labored gasps, Bartleby withdraws a short distance from the group. Someone should probably sit on him. He says, gesturing at Nolin. At least until we know he won't start swinging that tenderizer again. He then raises a hand and assumes a posture of deep concentration. The birthmark on his face becomes vivid for a moment as he channels healing energy through the area.
An unnatural cold permeates this chamber and the tendrils of silver-gray mist flowing out the front archway into the courtyard beyond seem to effortlessly pierce the flesh and gently caress the bone in a cold embrace. The grand entranceway’s vaulted ceiling is supported by six great pillars of hewn black stone. Braziers mounted on the pillars cast white radiance from balls of continual light. The light glimmers eerily in the silvery haze that fills the atrium, giving the impression of something alien watching from the glowing fog. There is a door at the end and one on each side of the hallway.
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Bartleby refrains from giving an opinion yet, preferring instead to chant a few prayers to his goddess for insight, casting detect magic to see if any auras linger in the mist and the room. Unfortunately, his education in spellcraft is sorely lacking, so the presence of magic is all he will be able to determine.
Nolin moves up to the door on the left and starts searching it. He seems to find no traps on the door. It is closed, but seems to be unlocked.
The mists here congeal into a thick and silvery fog that cools the lungs. Arranged throughout this large hall are exhibits on the funerary traditions of several civilizations, along with preserved corpses arrayed in grim stillness. A giant warrior looms from the haze, his arms crossed at his chest, his helm solemn and still. Beyond lie sarcophagi of varied designs, and a few glass cases wherein withered dead are held upright by rods and string; grim exhibits of long-dead citizens whose fallen empires were erased an age past. A placard above this hall reads “The Honored Dead” in blood-red calligraphy.
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Bartleby begins his chanting prayer of virtue again, this time touching Nolin first to grant him the blessing before putting others between him, moving his way to the back of the group as he bestows the spell upon others.
Virtue spell, everyone gains a temporary hit point for 10 rounds minus the order touched.
Nolin 7 rounds
Smoggin 8 rounds
Ursus 9 rounds
Bartleby 10 rounds
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Smoggin follows into the room, glancing over the interior curiously, trying to be as quiet as possible, but still, if one listens carefully, something seems to be howling, just there, where the skeleton sits. And from the blood-red calligraphy a trickle of blood runs slowly down, falling with a 'pling' onto the ground.
As soon as Nolin says that, some of the corpses rise and start to stir as if to object! One is a withered, mummified thing from bearing a jeweled scarab on its chest among its spiced wrappings. Another is a hulking skeleton who wields a greatclub fashioned from a mammoth’s ivory tusk. The third is a shrunken, emaciated corpse wrapped in rotten silks, and holding a silvered Qadiran scimitar in its bony fists. The last is an armored warrior of a long-dead empire, clad in heavy discolored bronze plates and helm.
Bartleby
Nolin
Smoggin
Ursus
Scarab Seer
War-Chief
Qadiran Warlord
Bronze Legionaire
Smoggin
Bronze Legionaire
Smoggin
Bronze Legionaire
Ursus fires his bow and hits the ancient War-chief. However, the arrow bounces off doing minor damage. The Qadiran Warlord with its ornate scimitar rushes towards Bartleby and attempts to strike him.
It is successful and leaves a gash in Bartleby's side.
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"Abominations!" Bartleby exclaims as he takes in the scene and attempts to size up these undead creatures before sending them to his goddess where they belong. Raising his hand, his birthmark takes on the vivid hue again as he channels energy to destroy these creatures. "Pharasma, take these mockeries of life and banish them from the world of the living!"