Venture Captain Sheila Heidmarch stands before a window in her study, sunlight glittering on her signature emerald garments. She speaks in a deep and sonorous voice, and wastes no time getting to her point.
“First, thank you for gathering here on such short notice. Please have a seat. Once you’ve heard what I have to tell you, I believe you will forgive my enthusiasm.” Gathering her thoughts for a moment, she begins briskly, ”Documents we recovered from our Thassilonian excavations describe an elven fortress on the border between the Mierani Forest and the former Thassilonian province of Cyrusian. Because the borders of the forest have receded in the years since, any remaining ruins must be well outside of the forest as it now stands. As I’m sure you’re aware, the elves of Kyonin typically guard elven historical sites closely, but in this case it seems the elves have lost all record of the site; they don’t even know it exists. Needless to say, this discovery represents an invaluable opportunity for the Society to explore without supervision. Take this map and make your preparations. I want you to reach the tower before news of its discovery reaches any of our rivals.”
Counting off her points on elegant fingers, she lists the tasks to be completed in finding and researching the ruins, “First, verify that the ruin even exists. Assuming there’s still something there, I want a detailed report on the architecture of the site. We don’t gain access to ancient elven ruins often, and this investigation must be thorough. Finally, bring back any surviving artifacts left by the elves who built and occupied the tower.”
She casts a quick glance at the assembled Pathfinders, her eyes widening slightly as if to ask, Why are you still here? With a sigh, she says, ”I suppose you have questions?”
|
Hassam is a middle aged Rahadoumi man. He wears exotic leather armor and posses a longspear with an old banner that has the symbol of the open road embroidered with great care on it.
Hassam listens carefully but gives pause when Shelia rebukes Hassam and his companions without provocation.
After spending a moment to gather his composure he does ask a question "Do the recovered documents contain any info about guardians, or other magics left behind to deter those such as out selves?"
|
Hrolf is a large ulfen hailing for the frozen north. Although mighty and ponderous in his movements, he carries himself with a grace that belies his bulk. A long dark mane stretches down his back and his beard is tied into a neat pair of twisting braids. Every exposed inch of weathered flesh, aside from his hands and most of his face, are covered in elaborate tattoos in the shapes of beasts. He wears an mithril breastplate across his barreled torso and a worn hide kilt. Across his back is a deadly hunting spear.
"No questions from me", he says after Sheila's finished explaining the mission. "The task is simple enough. Though if we encounter elves on the way in or out, what would you have done with them?"
|
|
Mavarion is a dwarf of average stoutness, with tanned skin, dark clothes, a chain shirt dulled by constant use, and a grey hooded cloak. He wears an interesting headpiece, like a combination of a battle helm and a crown made for a head half again the size of his. The holy scales of Abadar are stitched into the left sleeve of his cloak, one of the few instances of color to be seen, and, as if to further endorse his faith, several crossbows, the chosen weapon of the Master of the First Vault, dangle at his large belt. A backpack full to the brim with many small objects hangs from one shoulder.
"Sounds like a very straightforward mission," he drawls in dulcet tones. "Even if we were to be discovered by the elves, how much would they be likely to mind? After all, they did abandon the place. Finders, winners, I say, we'd be in the right. And as this fine gentleman asked-" he gestures with one arm at Hrolf while bowing his head to the Ulfen man in respectful greeting, "-What do we do if they object? Run? Fight? Another option that eludes my mind as of now?"
Heidmarch’s impatience fades slightly as it becomes clear the Pathfinders are asking reasonable questions, with the success of the mission in mind, and she answers each one thoughtfully.
”The Velashu Uplands lie some days to the north of us here in Magnimar, not far past Riddleport,” the venture-captain offers, with a nod to Liam.
Turning to Hassam’s question, she continues, "The tower appears as a reference in the journal of an emissary to the elves sent from Xin-Cyrusian. In her journal, the wizard left detailed notes about the tower’s location and mentioned the building’s luxurious accommodations, but no information about defenses. However, similar locations have been warded by magic and guarded by outsiders. I doubt that the elves would design anything that would harm their own kind, but we have not explored enough elven sites to offer more than speculation. I am confident in your skills and training.”
”As to elves,” she replies to Mavarion and Hrolf, ”obviously, we’d prefer not to antagonize them, so ‘fight’ would perhaps not be the first answer to meeting them. But you are veteran Pathfinders, and know the goals of the Society and of this mission. Use your best judg-“ She interrupts herself, considers Mavarion a moment, turns her glance to Hrolf, and then says, looking squarely at Hassam and Liam, ”Use your best judgment in the matter.”
"If you've no further questions..." she says, with a glance at the door, so the party is sure to know where it is.
The journey north spans several rather pleasant days, along the coast road by the Varisian Gulf, with a stop in Sandpoint for a quick meal before heading through the Churlwood. A night in Riddleport offers the last taste of civilization - if it can be called that - before setting out for the Velashu Uplands. After a day and a night of travel on the empty plains, the Pathfinders arrive at the location described in the ancient journal. Where the tower once stood, all that is visible is a lump of weathered stone protruding from a low hill. A small, cave-like opening can be seen on the southern face.
|
|
During the trip, using an elaborate series of mirrors, Hrolf tattoos a pair of majestic eagle's wings along his meaty shoulders.
***
Arriving at the tower, Hrolf joins in the spellcasting fun. Working through the party's ranks he touches each of his companions, thickening their skin. He offers Hassam a plain platinum ring.
Once he's done he touches an elaborate tattoo of a mongoose along his collarbone. The tattoo pulls away from the northerner's skin becoming a living thing of flesh, blood, and sleek dark fur.
After a flurry of spellcasting worthy of the Runelords whose land once bordered this tower, the Pathfinders enter the ruin. What at first looked like a cave reveals itself as the foundation of an ancient building. Crumbling stone walls, their blocks blanketed in moisture trails and weeds, slowly give way to the soil of the surrounding plains. The ceiling is partially open to the sky, and beneath its limited shelter shards of fallen stone litter compete for space with small mushrooms and other fungi that grow out of the spiderweb pattern of cracks in the floor. Against the chamber’s northern wall, the remains of a door made from petrified wood lies open, barely clinging to the door frame with nearly disintegrated hinges.
|
|
Mavarion cordially thanks Liam for the offensive and defensive spells he casts upon the dwarf. "You won't regret it, I'll deal with anything foolish enough to stand in our way." It raises the question, however, how he is to do this. He has thus far exhibited no signs of magical talent, and does not look particularly strong, although he seems slightly lighter on his feet than the average human or dwarf. "Yes, this is certainly a wreck if I've ever seen one," he remarks cheerily, looking about on the tips of his toes for anything unusual.
"Look, fellows! This will doubtless liven things up. Someone has been here recently, could still be." He indicates the footprint and unhooks a crossbow from his belt.
Stone walls stretch between three rounded turrets to form a vaguely triangular central room. Long forgotten elven heroes bearing swords and hunting hawks stand proudly immortalized as marble statues, silently guarding the shadowed alcoves between the towers. A damp, earthy smell rises from the carpet of moss and small fungi that covers the floor.
As the party enters the room, a loud voice fills the space, "Dresbaswyr wedi mynd i mewn i'r tŵr."
The eyes of the statues flash briefly as the loud message ends. As Mavarion asks what has just happened, Hrolf’s massive form slumps to the floor, where he begins snoring gently.
Mavarion is able to wake Hrolf without difficulty, though he does have to take care to avoid the sharp teeth of the Ulfen’s mongoose friend. The little creature is clearly puzzled by its master’s unexpected nap and eyes the dwarf suspiciously as he shakes Hrolf’s shoulder. As Hrolf stirs and climbs to his feet, however, an odd sort of skittering sound can be heard from the eastern door, and three bizarre plant-things enter the room! These strange creatures walk on four spidery stalks and wave long green tendrils in the air as if questing for food. At the top of the plant sits an inverted bell-shaped cap, a sort of primitive flower, filled with spores.
Hassam has no notion what these things are. Liam is not able to identify what they started out as, but is quite sure they are corrupted with the taint of demons!
Hassam’s fingers move deftly through the motions to cast his spell, and he feels the magical energies build as he expects, but the power seems to just fizzle out rather than granting his companions magical speed.
The bizarre plants move forward, the yellow-petaled one getting cut badly by Hassam’s attack! Hassam notes that the cut seems to mend itself quickly, a gooey sap filling in the wound and knitting it back together. The creatures then lash out with their tendrils!
Liam manages to overcome whatever is suppressing magic at the moment, and Mavarion sends a single sling stone crashing clean through the pod at the top of the green-fringed creature! A burst of spores floats into the air from its bell-like top and the plant-thing drops to the ground, tendrils twitching madly for a long moment before it goes still.
Hrolf pierces the pink-petaled plant! The hole made in it partially closes, but he's clearly done it some harm.
The yellow-petaled plantoid stiffens its tendrils a moment, but does not attack with them. Instead, its bell-like cap expands for a moment, then contracts quickly, as if it had inflated its cheeks and blown something out! A nearly invisible cloud of fine dust – or perhaps spores – floats down on a broad area around it, entering the mouths, noses, and even the minds, of the Pathfinders.
At the same moment, the pink-tinged monster takes a skittering step towards Liam and beats him with its tendrils!