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Vladimir 1NLD
Constantin 1NLD
Runes -14hp R3 D3
Constantin disables several of the runes, even more than Lini.
Unfortunately for Constantin, this also turns the attention of the runes from Lini to himself, and the runes swarm over him, while also stretching out to include Vladimir and Iubex. The damage is negligible, but threatens to distract them from the battle at hand.
"Hey, where are they going! I'm not done looking at those yet!" Lini yells as the runes float away from her. Droogami dutifully hops after the runes to take another bite as Lini continues to try to undo the runes.
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The runes begin to flicker as Lini, Vanya and Constantin disable many of them. Droogami and Khismia also attack the swarm relentlessly. The combined assault causes the runes to dissipate and disappear.
The runes defeated, you move back into the museum and go up to the second floor. Gears, glass, and chunks of wax litter the polished wood floor under a sign that proclaims “Scars of the Lich.” The corpse of a Kellid warrior lies in a pool of blood, her furs soaked through. A constant ticking and whirring sound echoes in this area.
You assemble at the hallway and hear clicking and whirring coming from behind a wall. A trio of four-armed, three-legged human-sized clockwork constructs come into view.
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Vladimir 1NLD
Constantin 1NLD
Vanya -8
Nusar -10
B - 24
G
R
Nusar and Vanya deal significant damage to one of the prone contructs (blue).
Red stands up, and then clicks and whirs as it starts to repair Blue. Blue slams Vanya with a clockwork limb, giving her a nasty bruise on her rib, then also stands up. Green moves out of the grease to Nusar and strikes it painfully.
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Vlad's eyes widen as he sees the constructs and tries to think what he knows of them to share with his colleagues. Iudex meanwhile strides to the side and swings the spiral blade at the blue-tinged construct.
The blade flies true. Vladimir himself takes a shot with his crossbow.
He practically shoots his foot.
"Go go power kitteh!" Lini yells as she spurs Droogami into a charge.
She also takes a wild swing with her little sickle.
It is a very wild swing indeed...
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After a loud crack and a ripple of arcane energy, silence falls across the museum as the construct guards freeze in place and haunted relics drop to the ground. Nigel’s voice rings out, magically projected throughout the museum: “We’ve disabled the magical security measures. Since we haven’t found the thieves yet, they must be hiding in my third-story study. Please subdue them; they have much to answer for!”
Nigel Aldain’s announcement echoes through a museum littered with shattered clockwork and toppled exhibits. There’s no question that the Pathfinders have quelled the building’s defenses, and perhaps the peaceful silence will set whoever hides on the third floor at ease.
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Vlad looks side to side as the constructs fall. "--well, that was easy. It sounds like we must make for the stairs. If anyone's a bit dinged I can tap you with this wand as we run."
"Come on Iudex! Stairs! You love stairs!"
"I AM INDIFFERENT TO STAIRS," the eidolon responds.
"What, don't you climb them all around the Spire at the Boneyard or something?" Vlad retorts as he makes his way for a stairwell.
"NO."
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Several other pathfinders rush into the room and help you defeat the remaining constructs, and the compromised defenses allow you to proceed up another floor.
The mahogany walls and domed, plaster ceiling both show signs of heavy damage. Most of the luxurious furniture and the crystal chandelier are intact. The contents of cabinets and bookcases lie strewn about the floor. A small wooden panel near the door hangs open, revealing an arcane sigil covered in scorch marks.
A Kellid woman dressed in furs with intricate scars all over her body steps forward. She holds a hand up and says, “Stay back. We are members of the Twinhorn following, and we have only come to retrieve what was stolen from us.”
A towering figure steps forward; his translucent red form is that of a man clad in heavy armor and wielding twin warhammers. “Medda, they must be in league with the thieves; they should die for crossing us.” The man’s voice sounds hollow and unnaturally loud, and as he speaks, the chandelier glows with a dull light.
The woman, Medda, puts a hand on the figure’s arm and says, “Maybe we should give them a chance to explain themselves, Anok.”
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"Well...that's rich. We were asked here to stop thieves looting the museum... and when we find them they accuse us of being in league with the thieves ourselves! As I see things we can very well start to kill each others or we can try to settle this without bloodshed. The choice is yours but out of curiosity... What is that you want to retrieve exactly? What was stolen from you and why do you think it's here? The museum was going to display relics from the Shining Crusade. That's mostly Taldan history... what Kellids have to do with that?" asks Vanya sounding puzzled.
"What Reddie here means is that maybe we can try to work out together what's really going on here and set things right. I don't know about any thieves, but Nigel said there were thieves here, but it looks like there's more to this story. If something was taken from you, I'm sure we can work something out to restore it to you. Besides, I have a kitteh and puppies, and why would you want to fight kittehs and puppies when they are so soft and cuddly?"
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The person identified as Medda looks in confusion at the rhyming man and zoophilic midget, but the combined ludicrousness seems to ease her nerves.
"Very well, let us talk. For now. We are from the northern lands—the Realm of the Mammoth Lords to you southerners. Our following, or tribe, has been searching for our stolen heritage for months.”
“These Blakros people stole our most precious heirloom.” Medda retrieves a bundle of bloody bandages, then unwraps it to reveal a dagger hilt with only the fragment of a black blade. “It belonged to Ivvora, a champion of Vildeis who vanquished the great black evil from our land over 900 years ago. We kept it safe until the Blakros agents stole it three months ago.”
The creature called Anok adds aggressively in his deep, booming and hollow voice, “They came into our camp asking about Ivvora. Medda gave them shelter and told Ivvora’s story, but we would not part with the hilt. The next morning the hilt and the Blakros agents were gone. We tracked it here, to this building.”
"Your turn. Who are you and what is your association with those Blakros thieves?"
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Making sure to stand behind Iudex, Vlad clears his throat.
"We're Pathfinders. We are not Blakros museum staff, but we're here because a number of our own possessions are on loan to this building, which is called a museum... a bit like a shrine, you might say, for items with history. We were told thieves were breaking in and stealing items from it... so we came to protect our own investment, as it were."
"We might have a common cause, if there are actual thieves upstairs."
Vlad tactfully chooses not to mention that Pathfinders could easily be considered thieves a lot of the time. He studies Anok as he speaks, trying to figure out what the red... translucent... thing is.
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Vanya sighs before answering:"We are Pathfinders. We were having fun when the curator of this museum, which by the way happens to be the Blakros' museum, interrupted the festivities and asked for our help because the museum was being looted by thieves and its defensive system was going nuts. So we came here to stop the wards from causing more havok and possibly destroying priceless historical relics and possibly apprehend the thieves. Which brings us where we are right now, I guess. For the record I believe your tale. These Blakros' people can be underhanded if they really want something. There's just a thing I don't understand though: this exposition is supposed to be about the Shining Crusade. Why would the Blakros want something belonging to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords?
"Well... sometimes truth really is the best policy..."
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Anok glows red with anger. "Thieves?No doubt the Nigel bastard was referring to us. That cur dares! When we asked for the relic to be returned, that Nigel man refused, saying he did not honor ‘seller’s remorse.’ Now the rogue calls us thieves!?”
"Calm yourself, Anok," Medda interrupts, though she still watches you carefully. "Ivvora was a scourge against evil, a true friend, a dwarf, and a devotee of Vildeis. She fought in the Shining Crusade, but entrusted the relic to us for safekeeping. However you look at it, this man Nigel is either a thief or an accomplice of thieves."
"If you are done asking questions, we would like to leave now. If you intend to stop us, expect no quarter or mercy."
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Vladimir looks to Iudex; the helmet looks back at him with an unseeable gaze, but the suggestion of implacability. It's the eidolon that speaks.
"IF NIGEL ALDAIN SPEAKS OF SELLER'S REMORSE, PERHAPS YOU AND YOUR TRIBE STRUCK A BARGAIN YOU ARE NOT DISCLOSING," the psychopomp says in his flat, emotionless voice. "ALDAIN IS AN AMBITIOUS MORTAL BUT I DEEM OUTRIGHT THEFT WITH NO COMPENSATION AN UNLIKELY ACT FROM HIM."
"...what my companion is trying to say," Vlad says with a delicate throat clearing, "is that we wonder if there isn't more to the story? And, well, we are sort of here at Aldain's bequest. And told to apprehend the looters. And you're taking something out that I'm sure Aldain considers part of his collection. So. Perhaps we ought to ensure we hear his side of this as well.... which, unfortunately, means not letting you leave until we have this sorted out."
He smiles in a bright, brittle fashion... and casts a shield spell on Iudex.
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"Witless worms! Medda is the guardian of Ivvora's hilt. It has been passed from Keeper to Keeper for generations! To suggest that we would bargain away our sacred charge is precisely the kind of insult that saw those Blakros thieves sent from our lands! Choose your next words carefully," Anok snarls as he begins to glow crimson.
When Vladimir casts his spell, the two tribesmen archers immediately nock arrows to their bows and aim at him. Medda also raises her spear. They do not attack yet, but it is clear they are ready to fight if you do anything else that might be misconstrued as hostile.
Constantin's rhyme confuses them long enough to prevent immediate hostilities as they work out what he's actually saying.
"We don't have time to waste here. Let us pass or we will force our way through," Medda adds in a more controlled tone, but her voice also is hard and determined.
"Wait wait wait, stupid tin can notwithstanding, maybe it doesn't have to come to this. We can take you to Nigel and sort this one once and for all, and if he's in the wrong we'll kick his ass for you and send you on your way? Better than us all walking away from this all hurt and bruised? I mean, you wouldn't want to have to fight a puppies and kittehs, would you?
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Vlad looks deeply wry at the suggestion he 'keep his stupid tin can in line.'
"You have a vastly incorrect understanding of the relationship between myself and the 'tin can'," he remarks, while watching the arrows aimed his direction with pursed lips.
At the Twinhorn tribe, he says with a sigh, "Blunt as the 'tin can' is, surely you grasp what he was pointing out? Aldain thinks a bargain was made. Maybe the agents he dispatched stole from you and lied to him. Listen, I meant no offense regarding your holy relic, and I'm sorry if I gave it. But the Blakros family are.... very powerful, very rich, and spread across the many lands like a blanket. If you walk out of here without sorting out the truth of this, they'll act as if you are thieves, and it's a very long journey back to the north, isn't it? Do you want to be attacked by the richest family in the world for the entire journey there? Or would you rather get to the truth of whoever's claiming you made a bargain that you never did?"
Iudex remains stonily silent to the various references to his being an idiot, his gaze fixed on the potential enemy and his person planted in front of Vlad.
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The crowd of guards, onlookers, and concerned citizens outside the Blakros Museum quiets as Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin approaches a woman clad in furs exiting the museum. "My Pathfinder agents tell me that you are Medda of the Twinhorn following, is that correct?"
"Yes, I speak for the following." Medda glares at Nigel Aldain, "I have come to reclaim what is rightfully ours. His agents stole our most sacred relic after we refused to sell it. We have traveled through dangerous lands to claim it back, and still he refused—"
"My agents claim they bought it," Nigel protests. "I’m not going to just give it to you because you stomp into my office demanding priceless artifacts."
Valsin interjects, "Nigel, let us listen to her story and decide how to proceed. Medda, tell us about this relic. Why is it so important to you?"
Medda takes a deep breath. "Over 900 years ago, a powerful warrior named Ivvora came into our camp. She spoke of an angel named Vildeis who guided her hunt for a great dark evil she called Eshimka. Several of our scouts had recently disappeared, later found ripped into pieces. The elders insisted that we help banish this evil and ensure the safety of our following. They laid a trap for the evil spirit, luring it to our sacred standing stones on the winter solstice. There, Ivvora and the great dark evil, Eshimka, fought a mighty battle that raged for hours. Just as the night was darkest, Ivvora dealt Eshimka a telling blow, digging her dagger deep into its flesh. The creature tried to escape, but it only snapped off the blade and then collapsed on the center stone. The elders finished their ritual and destroyed it completely.
"Ivvora rested with us for the winter before departing to eradicate more evil from the world, but not before leaving us the hilt of her weapon." Medda withdraws a bundle of bloody cloth from her bag, then unwraps it to reveal a small hilt with a bloody fragment of black metal. "She told us to bring the hilt back to the standing stones every year at the winter solstice to keep evil away. We’ve had to travel for so long to retrieve the hilt, I’m afraid we won’t make it back in time for the solstice. Please, let me leave now."
Ambrus Valsin contemplates Medda’s story for a moment, then nods, his brow furrowed. "Nigel, you should send for the Blakros agents who ‘obtained’ the hilt and hear what they have to say. Medda, I’m going to send as many Pathfinder agents as you deem necessary to travel with you and your following. I want to ensure we return this relic to its proper place." Nigel starts to protest, but Valsin cuts him off. "Nigel, you wanted my help; you are getting it. I’m helping you fix a mistake your agents made. As for your museum," Valsin takes a moment to survey the heavily damaged museum, "I’m told most of the damage was done by your own security, not Medda and her following.
"Pathfinders, prepare to head north to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords."
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Medda and Ambrus Valsin discuss long into the night how the Society might help the Twinhorn following. By the morning they have concluded that while teleportation magic might take the Kellids and Pathfinders as far as Lastwall, Medda insists that Ivvora’s hilt has lost some of its spiritual strength since being stolen. She believes the only way to restore its power is to walk the same path that Ivvora took into the Twinhorn’s land after the Shining Crusade—and that path leads straight through the Hold of Belkzen, an unforgiving land controlled by orcs!
Society mages gather to transport small groups at a time to Lastwall, and from there, the convoy of Kellids, Pathfinders, and supply wagons set off north. For all their brutal reputation, the orcs have become somewhat more welcoming of caravans at the urging of Grask Uldeth, one of the strongest orc chieftains and the ruler of the de facto capital Urgir. Those who stop at the Table of Ralock can purchase safe passage in the form of special tokens from tribal representatives. It remains to be seen whether the Pathfinders can secure enough.
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Urgir, capital of Belkzen, land of the orcs, is a dusty city composed of a discordant combination of crumbling dwarven architecture and rickety shelters. Medda has asked that everyone try and obtain tribal tokens, which allow safe passage through Belkzen and protection from the orc tribes. She has purchased as many tribal tokens as she can with gold but still needs more to have enough for her following warriors and the Pathfinders.
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It takes a good deal of trial and error, but eventually, Constantin manages to find the lowest common denominator and regales Borbus with dirty limericks:
There once was a lass from Qadira,
Who arranged for her maid to live nearer.
They claimed quite platonic
Were her night-visits chronic,
But for miles all around you could hear her.
Lini hears about Blenta and makes her way towards the beast pits, but gets distracted along the way when she sees Graffa climbing at her obstacle course. A grin plays across her face when she remembers that Graffa was looking for a challenger.
"Hey lady, 1 tribe token says mah kitteh here will blitz through that obstacle course quicker than ya! Ready? GO!"
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Moving further along, she sees Gekgaro poring over his map and muttering about not being to find a good place to camp. Checking herself to make sure she's not carrying any Society paraphernalia, she walks up to him and looks at the map from over under his shoulder.
"Hmm...if it's a large camp site you're looking for, what you want are shade and water. Now looking at the geography, you should be able to find springs here, here and here, and these hills and ridges will provide cover from the winds that come from that side... Oh hey, by the way, you're from the Broken Spine clan, ain't ya? Reckon you could spare me a tribal token?"
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Finally arriving at Blenta, Lini sees her struggling with the gorthek and quickly moves over to help her.
"Hey now, see gortheks can be very stubborn, but they are like cats in some ways. See they really like this here herb, and so what you want to do is approach them slowly, let them see you approach, reach out your hand so they can sniff it and get acquainted with your scent, and then slowly offer them the herb...."
"Now you try. Here's the herbs - they grow around here quite easily. By the way, I'm looking to collect tribal tokens. You're from the Storm-Screamers of Rull, ain't ya? I'd love to get one of your's! You guys have the coolest-sounding tribe name if you ask me."