The message was an invitation to come to the home of Prester Gallowsmith in one month's time to discuss the end of the world. The letter was signed with a signature and a sigil: three interlocking circles with a spiral at the center. It's not a symbol you're familiar with, but it seemed to evoke a sense of familiarity none the less. Despite your doubts, or perhaps because of them, you have decided to attend. You choose your travel methods carefully, for you know that you may never pass this way again. With some difficulty, you were able to reach the great city of Absalom and locate Gallowsmith's home.
In Gallowsmith's house, there was a crowd of others summoned as you were. The scholar himself appeared to you as a construct of tiles, rising from a mosaic depicting the legend of the drowning of Old Azlant, and told the following tale.
"I am a member of a brotherhood of men who study the planes and the stars and the space between. For many years we have met quietly to share our insights and to speak of the knowledge that we have gathered. The death of Aroden changed everything. Suddenly all the omens and prophecies ceased to function, and even basic divinations could not be trusted. It was in that moment that a brother of mine observed a strange occurrence heretofore unknown to us. During a simple teleportation effect, he observed that the Golarion of his destination was not the Golarion of his departure. Fortunately he was not stranded on that strange shore and was able to return to us with his findings. From that moment, we were able to make several discoveries. Bear with me; the path ahead is not a clean one."
He pauses, gathering his thoughts. "We have discerned that every major event in the history of our world holds a certain temporal energy. It permeates the planar boundaries and as we found out, alters them. You see, every major event or keystone moment creates a potential for an equal and opposite outcome. The very energy that causes history to hinge upon that moment creates its opposition. When this occurs, a new Golarion is produced, divergent from our Golarion in that moment. If the event is strong enough, that Golarion continues, evolving in its new path separate from our path, spawning its own alternates. If it is weak, it will die, usually within a few days, but we have seen such realities persist for longer before fading. Indeed, in Pharasma's Boneyard, there may well be a graveyard of such realities. But I digress. In this garden of forking paths, there is always a prime path, a Golarion from which all others sprang. I first believed that our world must be that world, but of late I am reconsidering that conclusion. That does not change the basic point: it seems as if the weight of these other realities is becoming too much for this world to bear. The rifts are the result of this stress. They are the tears where one reality intersects with another, and if they are allowed to continue, they will eventually cause all realities to collapse in upon each other, destroying them all. We know not why or where this threat comes from, but we believe we may have a way to stop the collapse."
Gallowsmith pauses and the mosaic tiles composing him rearrange to form a sort of network of roots. His voice continues, though, seeming to come from all around you. "In each reality, we have identified a keystone, a place or person or thing upon which that reality rests. Some aspect of these things has become lacking in some way and must be rectified if that reality is to be shored up against the collapse." A portion of the root lights up, and as it glows, you see a tomb, lost in the desert, sitting between two gigantic statues of lions with the claws and tails of scorpions. "In this reality, this tomb houses the consciousness of a great arcanist that is once more awakening. He must not be allowed to awaken. If his evil is stopped, his reality will be shored up and the threat against all of us is lessened by the weight of a single grain of sand. Minor, perhaps, but taken in total with others and it is enough to destroy us all."
The adventure that followed was impressive; at the last, you were the only one left up, but you were able to stop the group that wanted to rouse the arcanist and ensure that he stayed asleep. With the end of the threat, you and your compatriots were precipitated back into your Golarion. There, another of Gallowsmith's colleagues--a priest of Desna--told you that you needed to travel to Five Kings Mountains, to the elven trading post of Elistia, and be there by a date and time one week off. He provides the money for a teleportation spell, which gets you most of the way there, and with a bit of haste you get there in time.
According to the directions you received, you make your way into the trading post and into the dwarf outpost inside it, an entrance into the deep tunnels held by the dwarves of Five Kings. At the appointed time, a rift opens under your feet for a few seconds, dumping you into another Golarion at the same position. There you meet a gnome druid who sends you into the deep road, telling you to hurry so you can catch up with another of Gallowsmith's parties.
Departing from the gnome with a simple nod Dashel hastens along the road. Saying a quick prayer. Iomedae you honor me with yet another task, let your light shine through me, so I may righteously serve your purpose. My blessed longsword ensures that evil shall not thrive. He continues to hustle forward until he hears a deep dwarven voice. Prudently, he unslings his shield but he leaves his sword sheathed, approaching cautiously, "Friend or foe" he announces in a confident voice.
Upon hearing the challenge Duncan immediately dismisses the light on his Greataxe and darts for the shadows as his group finds whatever cover the rocks in the tunnels could afford.
As the Templar approaches under his own light shining from his Breastplate, illuminating the symbol of the inheritor, he relaxed, just a bit.
Depends! If ye really be some goodly folk then friend. If ye be o foul intent then woe is you.
Out pops the dwarf, wearing a Breastplate, helm, Greataxe which was taller than him and an assortment of other weapons giving him the appearance of a small walking armory.
Well met.
The tall human grins at the dwarf's response. His breastplate has been mended many times but it is polished and cared for; likewise, his shield evidences hard usage, but the painted long sword with a sunburst is unblemished. He wears a single longsword on his left hip and a heavy mace on the right.
"A friend it is then." He looks around his eyes scanning the surroundings, "Gallowsmith rushed me here, times of the essence to get to the Five Kings Mountains." He breathes out and extends his calloused hand, the back of which has many scars, "My name's Dashel de Penderwon and you will find no foul intent here only the light of Goddess Iomedae."
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"All the walking we've done and now people just keep showing up left and right from the other world, I worry the fabric between the worlds is tearing even more... we can worry about learning more from you as we press on quickly." Eretria replies from behind the dwarf before turning to continue on the road.
"Cowardly enemies can take many forms...true enough, but you'll find no such treachery lurking behind my shield." He stows his shield on his back and shows open palms to human lady.
A winged, flying helmet (Dashel, you recognize it as a Cassissian angel, one of the lowest orders of celestial spirits) bobs up to the newcomer. "Dashel de Penderwon. I recognize you from Prester Gallowsmith's house. Did the rift you came through close behind you?"
The angel continues. "Here is Gallowsmith's charge." Its voice shifts, and now it sounds like the scholar's light tenor. "This is the Dark Road, a tangle in the fabric of reality that, when combined with the rest of what is happening, threatens to tear all apart if it is not destroyed. Break the terminus before the Road is strengthened by the conjunction. Again, fare you well."
In its own metallic voice, the angel goes on. "The Dark Road is in the north, where Kyonin used to be. The maker of the Road is on the island and sustains the Road at its end; slay it, and the Road will vanish.
"In this place a star fell from the heavens and destroyed Kyonin and much of the surrounding lands. Things came with the fallen star, and one of them created the Road; more have come that way since."
*If you're familiar with the Second Darkness AP, this is a Golarion in which the drow plot came to fruition several decades early relative to yours.
"Yes the rift closed behind me." He listens to the instructions intently. Destruction of the road maker will surely be wrought with peril that can test the faith of all. Hope these "new" companions fair better than my last. If not, may Iomedae take favor upon their souls.
"So is it just the three of us, or are there others that have yet to make themselves known." The cleric asks the sorceress and dwarf.
The angel replies, "I am called Besmarial. There are two other independent agents with us, and I expect that one of them is waiting for some explicit indication that you are not hostile before she stops aiming an arrow at you from the shadows." It continues in a louder voice. "Elesandira, Krolmnite. This is one of Gallowsmith's other team members."
I stroll forward from further down the passage, dropping an arrow back inmy quiver as I walk. Selveshanaea weaves around me as we walk, uncomfortable in these depths.
"Well met. The road draws near and every extra sword-arm is keenly needed."
As I draw near, Dashel should be able to see a half-elf in worn but well-maintained travelling gear who carries a fine bow. A mountain leopard walking by her side.
"We have all come from far places at Gallowsmith's call. I am Elesandira and this," I nod to the big cat, "Is Selveshanaea."
The cleric smiles at half-elf and her big cat, "May I" showing his open palm to the Selveshanaea to permit him to sniff the newcomer before he touches the muscle cat. [b}"I'm Dashel de Penderwon and I would consider it a privileged to join your group."[/b] He pauses a few seconds, "My sword arm is strong, my faith is stronger, and I will use both to the best of my ability."
Well bloody Marvellous. Now we're all friends, let's get ta findin this thing that needs cleaving and be done with him. Simple enough job, so long as we be hard and fierce enough ta survive. Now we got a genuine cleric wit us, I can worry less fer alla ye and concentrate Angradd's fury on our enemies. Let's git movin. Come on, shortstuff.
Duncan was enjoying having a companion shorter than him for a change, though only Andrea had ever enough guts to make any short jokes around him.
How was she now he wondered. Was she still alive? Was he? Or was this all his own purgatory? Dying made it hard to tell.
Or with all these rift things going on, was he the Duncan he thought he was? According to Gallowsmith there were hundreds of worlds with multiple versions.
Was HE the real Duncan? He had memories of the Council of thieves in Cheliax. Of Kenji and Andrea and Areal. But that was before he remembered dying.
It was giving him a headache.
The party continues down the dwarf deep road.
We'll take the rear: my archery means I don't have to be up front to get involved and Selveshanaea and I are hardy enough to face foes who come from behind.
In front, by Angradd's arse!
"I can be near the front."
He slides his longsword blade out of it's sheath, there is a glow to it (light spell), and he rubs it with an oiled cloth before re-sheathing the blade. He then instinctively checks his other weapons.
Duncan renews his light for Eretria's benefit.
And props to look at his companions.
Me and Dashel first if you wanna go loud, 30ft out with me Darkvision leading. If stealth is what ye prefer, an I recommend that by the way then it should be Eretria in the middle with Dashel carrying the light beside her. Elesandria has low light vision and is a decent sneak so she should be 60ft out front with me 15 ft forward o that. I can sneak as well as any with a buddy and that puts me far enough in front to spot a foe BEFORE they see the light. A message spell between me an Eretria keeps us in contact. They be yer choices and I'm ok wit either.
Spreading out gives Eretria time ta get spells up but means the sneaks need ta survive while ye catch up. Don't bother me. Just means I get a few more souls sent ta Pharasma afore ye get there.
He stands holding his axe across his shoulder and waits for a decision.
By the way, we ain't established a leader o this band. I ain't fer it, but I'll speak me mind when I got something ta offer. An I ain't stupid but I like the adage o the simple answer is often the best. Don't expect me ta favor overly elaborate crap when a front assault or a simple flank is a viable option.
Dashel frown at the Duncan's reference to Pharasma. Iomedae will never forgive her for having knowledge that Aroden was going to die. He shakes his head putting the thought away, "I'm new to the party so I'll defer to your collective wisdom. A few moments of warning would do me well to cast some blessings upon the party.
Dashel will unsheath his sword for light if we are heading into darkness."Simplicity works well for me too, Duncan."
Dashel keeps his glowing sword drawn to assist him in those areas where light is a bit scarce. His shield at the ready.
Maintaining a steady pace.
Duncan stealths just a bit forward of Elesandria, carefully picking his way and long at her to maintain communication and see if she points out anything.
Elesandira, you move with the noiselessness of your feline companion, eeling through the shadows gracefully. After a while you think you hear something moving ahead of you. It gets louder quickly; sort of a moist squelching sound. In the shadows up ahead of you you see what looks like a ball about ten feet in diameter...it's rolling towards you quickly.
Duncan, with your darkvision you just catch sight of the ball when it starts moving in your direction. From the noises it makes it's soft.
Both of you recognize it as an ascomoid, an underground-dwelling ambulatory fungus, with poison spores. Duncan also recalls that they're resistant to bludgeoning and slashing weapons and don't burn easily.
Duncan thinks to see if he recognized the ball
I also rack my brains.
And gesture to my companions behind, a raised fist which then points ahead.
I rolled the Knowledge (nature) checks for both of you behind the spoiler tag, and provided what you remembered.
Duncan recognizes the ascomoid for what it is and cast DIVINE FAVOR (standard action if time allows) on himself and CHARGES, speaks along Eretria's MESSAGE spell and loud enough for ELESANDRIA Poison Fungus. Use Piercing weapons. Fire's no good. , dropping his Greataxe (free action) in favor of his Heavy Pick (can be done as part of a charge)
Dashel hearing the dwarf's warning casts a spell, a light of glory a the form of spiritual longsword appears (up to 150 ft away - the scouts would not have gotten that far from us). It proceeds to attack striking as a spell,
;
Dashel will move forward sheathing his sword and drawing his light crossbow.
I launch a volley at the ascomid.
Initiative order:
Elesandira
Duncan/Silf/Selveshanea
Krolmnite/Besmarial
Ascomoid
Dashel
Ava
At the top of the round, the ascomoid is 60' away.
Initiative order:
Elesandira
Duncan-casts Divine Favor/Silf/Selveshanea
Eretria
Krolmnite/Besmarial
Ascomoid
Dashel
Ava
Initiative order:
Elesandira
Duncan-casts Divine Favor, swift Judgement drop Greataxe. /Silf flies up to ceiling.
Eretria
Krolmnite/Besmarial
Ascomoid
Dashel
Ava
Ammendment to reflect time (next round will charge! )
Round 1:
Initiative order:
Elesandira-fires arrows
Duncan-casts Divine Favor/Silf-up to ceiling/Selveshanea
Eretria
Krolmnite/Besmarial
Ascomoid
Dashel
Ava
Elesandira, your first arrow sails over the giant fungus as it sinks down a bit, but your second hits.
Selveshanea waits patiently by his mistress' side.