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Believing you've found as much as you can from the unstable woman, the Pathfinders then take a visit to meet the wayward alchemist. It doesn't take much to find the man and his shop, or what used to be his shop. A cramped, single-room establishment full of empty shelves. A large sign is posted across the windows. "Closed for business."
An irritated voice yells from the inside. "I don't sell nothing no more!"
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A worn looking man, with heavy eye-bags, and a very unkempt look approaches you from within the establishment. His body odour reeks as if he has not showered in days. "Well, I see you must have heard that I am the chosen one. Yes, it is true, the ugly horned demon has come to me revealing me the secrets of life." He proclaims proudly, somewhat delusional you might think.
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"Power of eternal life of course!" He exclaims enthusiastically as he lets you into the barren establishment. "I fear not death! I am the chosen one! I would gladly demonstrate to you my powers, but the guards! They took everyone away from me! They are jealous of what I'm capable of..." He expresses himself as a very unstable individual.
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The man continues his confident stride, "A flying head it was! If you seen the face itself, you would know, hideous being, like an disfigured orc ugly you know? Well I wouldn't be able to tell you the actual powers itself, it's secret you know, but it involves pretty complex stuff, mainly immortality. Of course, it does come with a price of a few experimental test which cause some poisoning, but that couldn't be help ya know, for the sake of alchemy." He continues to describe a little bit more on the experimental wisdom the creature imparted on him.
The alchemist could not have performed such advanced experiments without detailed help. Detailed as in written step by step.
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Salron works hard to keep a straight face as the man speaks. "Might I ask why you would choose to believe such a deformed thing? Obviously if it looks that way it must have issues of its own that it is dealing with." Salron gestures to the group that they should leave before we get stuck listening to the crazy man ramble on further.
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"The demon head, he told me he was a messenger of the god he did...errr.. I'm not sure where he went. It could be anywhere! And of course, these experiments are to prove my lineage of being the chosen one. In return I would be granted immortality! I created some sort of elixir on request of the head. However it made people sick, they don't understand anything! They don't know the price of magic!"
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In search for answers, the group leaves the perceived mad-alchemist and head to the last possible lead, the necropolis. Priests of Pharasma, the Lady of Graves, oversee a large graveyard and several small shrines surrounding it. For reasons unknown to anyone, the necropolis possess some unique traits: the sun’s light shines weakly upon it, causing the graveyard to be dimly lit even on the brightest days, every sound made in this area is difficult to hear, almost as if everything is muted. Oddly enough, everybody feels calm and emotionless when wandering the necropolis.
When you arrive, you are immediately greeted by a mid-ranking priestess. Dressed as Pharasman Priest, donning in dull colours with a spiral necklace. "Good day, I am Renofre, have you come here to pray?"
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Initially, the woman looks genuinely puzzled at the situation laid before her but soon makes a connection. "I do not know of this undead queen that you speak of, but now that you have demonic disembodied head, I do recall that we sent an acolyte recently to cleanse a minor undead menace that was reported to be a floating head. The acolyte was successful in deterring the menace but the whole thing has scared him. Perhaps you could speak to him regarding this."
With that, she leads you on to a small catacomb where they are holding the acolyte—a cool, dark room that has yet to be used for any burials. The acolyte, a young blonde man, sits in the corner with his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth.
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Renofre looks in confusion about the favoured sting.
Hskoro attempts to calm the boy. With himself still rocking, he speaks, “The Lady of Graves could not help me… I was powerless! It promised to reveal its secrets to me. It asked me to dig up graves. It said that she who wears the spiral of death would come for me… so I am waiting. It said she would take me east, beyond the Seven Crypts, to the Ever-Dying.”
Renofre gasps, "You would suggest that the undead menace still lives then?! But why..."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" The poor boy yells continuously rocking himself in his sorry state, repeating forgiveness but any other means to reach him seems to be met without success.
The priestess sighs, and turns to you, "The seven crypts, is an ancient shrine to Pharasma. But it was destroyed long ago. Every since, our order has served the Lady of the Graves in this crypt." Renofre explains, hoping it would help bring some small information to you.
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"There, there young man. No one is coming for you. You where given false promises meant to break your mind. Why it was done we can not you say but trust in your fellows and they can help you." Salron preaches.
"Why where the Seven Crypts destroyed and what caused its destruction? Salron asks Renofre.
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Realizing there's not much more to learn from the insane man, you return to the Scholar's address to report what you've learnt so far in hopes for more answers. Obahar’s home, a small one, is a dilapidated, ancient stone structure that seems out of place among the more modern dwellings surrounding it. While originally three stories tall, most of the top story fell away long ago. The front door hangs slightly ajar.
Thinking something's amiss, you enter cautiously. Inside the home, the you discover that Obahar lives an austere life—the main floor consists of a tiny kitchen, a sitting room, and a simple bedroom. The second floor is a single large room—the scholar’s study—with a blocked staircase that once led to the third floor. Obahar crouches on a desk in his study, wearing only one shoe and chewing on a scroll. He is addled and unable to speak or understand speech. There are bite scars on his neck and shoulder, though they have mostly healed.
Conveniently, the documents relevant to your investigation—maps of the city from long ago, official records from government archives, and the like—are strewn about Obahar’s desk. However, before you are able to gloss over them, an unexpected guest arrives.
“Good thing I was around, or the old man would be long dead. Those wounds were a lot uglier before I showed up.” The armored half orc tells. "I am Zurnzal, an agent of Grandmaster Torch, and I've come to lend my aid."
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Zurnzal explains, “My employer has been watching recent events in Merab with keen interest. The doru attacks seemed to draw the eyes of Amenopheus’ agents, and Grandmaster Torch shares mutual concerns with the Sapphire Sage; both of them think there is more to the sage jewels than anyone dares to believe. I am here to offer information to aid in your search for the Dungeons of the Ever-Dying”—the half-orc smiles knowingly—“if you give the Society’s guarantee that when it comes time to act on the threat to the Jeweled Sages— whatever it may be—Torch will be welcome to stand alongside his, ah, colleagues, in the Society.”