Aram Zey stands in a narrow, basement hallway in the Grand Lodge, not deigning to acknowledge the Pathfinders as they arrive to meet him in this peculiar spot. He casts a quick, disdainful glance at each of them, one eyebrow rising in disdain as he realizes only three have arrived so far. With just the slightest hint of a double-take, his gaze returns to Ostendiel and both eyebrows rise up, despite the man's obvious effort to beat them into submission.
With a sigh, Zey turns away, to study the dull patterns of the stone blocks that make up the wall of the hallway, which clearly hold more interest for him than the agents he's about to send into danger.
As Tarn arrives, the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells turns to the plain door before him and opens it, still not having spoken a word. The door leads into a cramped, stuffy room, where the Hao Jin Tapestry hangs on the wall. The tattered piece of fabric, five feet wide and seven feet long, looks more like a worn tablecloth than a storied artifact. Aram Zey stands before the tapestry, his arms folded across his chest, and begins to speak.
“As you all surely know, the Society labors at some cost to assemble a dwarven relic known as the Sky Key.” The Master of Spells produces an intricately sculpted piece of metal decorated with fluid carvings. A sudden flash of excitement fills his weary eyes. “The object I hold in my hands is one of five pieces of that curiosity. The pieces that the Society has obtained so far share the same luster and artistic sensibilities, but have different shapes and functions within the assembled artifact. Today, hopefully, you will retrieve another piece. Previous missions lead us to believe that a fragment of the Sky Key lies within the tapestry, in the company of a dwarven clan that left Golarion for Hao Jin’s realm some time ago. Your task is to enter the tapestry and make contact with these dwarves, discern what they know about the Sky Key, and negotiate for their piece, should they still have it.”
The taciturn sage produces a hexagonal beard clasp of thick, polished metal. “Pathfinder agents retrieved this beard clasp from one of the sites that we suspected of holding the Sky Key fragment. It belonged to an ancestor of the dwarves who live in the tapestry, and it may assist you in your negotiations. Return it to me if it does not gain you the fragment you seek. We hold no particular ire for the dwarves. Retrieve the Sky Key fragment if possible, but try not to murder anyone.”
Aram Zey adds grudgingly, “Does anyone have any questions before I send you into tapestry?” His glance rests on Ostendiel a long moment before he adds, ”Does everyone plan to stay in the tapestry and make an effort to complete the mission?”
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"I will do everything within my power to stay in the tapestry and complete the mission," Ostendiel says, keeping a level voice.
"I do have one question. Our entrance point to the tapestry: how close is it to where the dwarven clan is, and how do we find the location of the clan from the entrance point?"
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The druid has wildflowers braided into her long red hair and colorful ribbons decorating her dragonhide armor: obvious attempts to soften the appearance of this very large and muscular half-orc. It is not as effective as she wants it to be.
On her shoulder rests a very self-satisfied toad, Amanita, nicknamed "Boss Toad" by some goblins. Next to her, dogging her heels, is a very large constrictor snake, Dewberry. Lisianthus has made her a collar from wildflowers, but it does little to distract most people from the large fangs, powerful muscles, and razor-sharp scales.
"Oh, how exciting! I've never been in the tapestry before; the wildlife in there must be fascinating! What types of creatures might we run into?"
"You should enter the tapestry very close to the village of the dwarven clan," Zey responds dismissively, "and you can just proceed to the village. As to what kind of creatures, well, Hao Jin swept bits of lands from all over Golarion, and perhaps elsewhere, into the tapestry when she created it, so be prepared for anything."
He gives Sard's question just an instant more thought than the others' before shrugging and saying, "We've had no contact, but I have no reason to expect them to bear you any ill will." With a wave of his hand, he adds airily, "And you have a dwarf among your company, I'm sure they'll like you just fine."
"No more questions, then? Do you need to make any purchases before you go or can we get this mission under way?"
When the Pathfinder team declares themselves ready to depart, the Master of Spells teaches you a command word and instructs you to place your fingers one at a time on a specific spot in the tapestry, asking Ostendiel to go first, just in case he decides to return promptly. The monk bravely places his finger on the spot and utters the command word, only the slightest quaver in his voice. The others follow suit, with Lis and her menagerie transported last, and the party is whisked away into the storied Hao Jin Tapestry!
The hot, humid air announces an abrupt change in the local scenery and clime. A large earthen hill fades into view, surrounded on each side by hills covered in vines, grass, and stands of jungle trees. In one direction, mountains rise until they meet a haze of thick clouds. In the other direction, the deep blue sky is barely visible through an expanse of thick jungle. Just ahead lies a small village, its dirt streets empty and its stone buildings overrun with vegetation. The assembled Pathfinders, with more than a few missions in their chronicles, are shocked to discover that the situation within the tapestry is not quite what was described in the briefing.
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Tarn listens silently to Aram Zey blather on about his pointless goals, and then sighs mightily. "Vera well, we'll talk to another group of dwarves and convince them to part with a relic of their history to satisfy your curiosity about wha' will happen when you stick it all together. I'm ready to go."
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"Oh, this place looks inviting! So much for a nice tavern stop a'fore we head into tha mountains," Tarn mutters to no one in particular. "Looks like Zey still needs practice with his aim, using this tapestry."
Tarn loads his crossbow and looks around, his gaze setting on the <something> to the southwest. "Wha's tha', then?" he asks, pointing at the whatever-it-is.
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"Things are not going as expected; that is to be expected. That is why experienced Pathfinder agents such as ourselves are sent on these missions."
As they reach the ruins of the village, he says, "The ruins look old, but they have been disturbed recently. Some of the rubble has recently been exposed, graves have been dug up, and some of the remnants of the murals have been defaced recently."
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After they pass through the tapestry, Lisianthus taps both herself and Dewberry with a wand of longstrider. She also hands another wand to Sard. "Would you mind terribly casting this on Dewberry? It's just some magical armor. I tried to get her fitted for barding, but the silly dear just kept crawling out of it. Probably just as well; I'm hearing the other druids grumbling about the price of barding these days."
As they approach the village, Lisianthus's face falls as she sees the destruction. Oh my goodness. What terrible thing has happened here?
Looking up at Sard expectantly. Hissssss.
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Sard recoils as the large snake hisses at him. After a beat, he remembers what her owner had requested. "Oh, guess you want me to do something with this, yeah?"
He pulls out the wand of mage armor that Lis had handed him earlier and uses it to cast on the snake. Thinking about it for a moment, he then stows the wand, touches his chest with his hand, and casts the same on himself.
Following Tarn’s suggestion, the Pathfinders, undaunted by the (not entirely) unexpected turn of events with the dwarven village, make their way to the southeast, where they find a slightly nicer dwelling, in better repair than the others.
A few paces from the dwelling, progress forward is suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a truly bizarre being, making a terrifying sound, a roar that sounds like a hammer striking an anvil! The horse-sized creature has the face of a dwarven woman wearing a silver nose ring. Her body resembles that of a large bear, adorned with what look like the wings of a giant, scaly butterfly. A wickedly barbed tail writhes wildly behind her as her clanging call shifts to a sonorous growl.
Sard has never heard, read or dreamed of such a strange creature as this. It hesitates briefly as he speaks, continues its low, rolling growl, though it does not attack.
As the party assures the bizarre creature that they mean no harm, her growling subsides, her shoulders and wings slump and her head hangs low, her demeanor becoming deeply sad rather than fierce.
”You are not here to hurt and take?” she says in very simple Common. ”Others did, looked like you,” she adds, gesturing at Sard, Lis and Ostendiel as she says this. ”Could not stop them.”
After a gloomy pause, she speaks again, telling snatches of a tale, “Master was last of Naldak’s Point dwarves. They were good and proud until evil came and took the young away. Now they live in mountain to the east. Their heads are bald and their skin is gray. They should cut their beards in shame.”
”I am Grodel,” she replies, ”brought by my master. Grey dwarves didn’t kill master. Master died of sorrow, years after young of Naldak’s Point taken away.” Gesturing with her tail – which turns out to be tipped with an unpleasant-looking stinger – she points at some of the damaged structures and adds, ”Since then, others came – not dwarves – and did this, chased me away.”
"Others, look like you. No beards," Grodel replies. Considering a moment, she adds, "How long? Some moons ago, maybe three hands?" As she says this, she holds up a four-fingered hand.
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"Their heads are bald and their skin is grey?" Ostendiel says. His brow furrows. "Interesting."
He gives the others a look indicating that he wants to say more.
"What happened to them after evil came and took their young away? What did they do that makes you say they should cut their beards in shame?"
"Also, from what direction did these others come?"
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Tarn listens to the story sadly, his concern finally breaking through the reserve. "Yer master, what were they called?" he asks, as gently as he can manage.
If you have ranks in a Knowledge skill, I assume you know the basics of any creature with Base CR<Character level. Name, creature type, scariest ability, biggest immunities. If you roll really well, or make the roll but have ranks = character level in the skill, I give you pretty much everything that seems "important".
If you have encountered a creature with that PC before, I assume you remember the basics as well. If we follow the rules purely RAW, it would be meta-gaming to have a cold iron weapon without having ranks in Knowledge (planes) or (nature).
The system I proposed once to PFS leadership was that your PC auto-knows details of any creature whose base CR < character level IF you have ranks in the appropriate Knowledge skill = 1/2 character level AND you own the Additional Resource it comes from. Didn't fly.
She considers the questions for a long, sad moment before replying. ”Not many left, grew old and died, my master with them. Those taken by evil left their clan, their home, their gods, left all that was them. They went to the east.” As she says this, she points toward an overgrown path heading in that direction.
In reply to Tarn’s question, the strange creature’s amber eyes brim with tears and she says, ”Cannot remember master’s name! Bid me stay here, tells others what happened, but it has been so long!”
She calms herself and says, ”You wait.” Disappearing into the small dwelling behind her, she reemerges from the hut with an item clutched in each hand, a wand and an empty scabbard. ”You go to find master’s people, you take these to help.”
"No, I need nothing," she replies. "I stay here, do as my master said."
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Ostendiel says, "I don't know a lot about them. They are much like dwarves. Strong fighters, but varied as individuals."
"Like the drow, I had thought they were native to the Darklands, and basically unknown on the surface. It is surprising that a village taken from the surface into the tapestry would have them. We should be cautious. The duergar I met before were, to an individual, hostile. Hopefully this time around that will not be the case."
Grodel looks on sadly as the party departs down the overgrown dirt road. The journey takes over half a day, the grim peak of the mountain very slowly getting closer. After an uneventful trek, the mountain reaches overhead, covered in lush trees and white mist. As warm winds whip around the mount’s rises, wisps of cloud separate from the thick cover and float away. A brief plateau about halfway up the mountain features a sheer cliff, otherwise inscrutable from a distance.
Nearer by, a mighty waterfall roars overhead, the source of the thick mist that covers much of the mountain. The vapors become gray clouds as they rise in altitude, but near the base of the mountain they are white wisps rolling out from a beautiful pool. The pool’s water is clear and deep, with the spill forcing white bubbles back to a rippling surface. Deep into the pool, away from the frothy cascade, a glint of gold beckons the eye.
Hisssssss. Mom says to defend the shiny one. Perhaps there will be tasties in the water!
Ostendiel and Dewberry make their way through the water. They're able to swim across the current without any trouble, but Ostendiel can tell it might be challenging for some of the others.