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The shifting sands of Osirion have been known to swallow entire communities, wiping them from the face of Golarion. Those same dunes sometimes uncover that which has been lost, revealing secrets from the past. In a nation with a rich and mysterious history, such discoveries set off a rush of exploration, but the deserts are not a safe place, and more than one group of treasure-hunters has donated their bones to the sands. When Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir contacted you this morning in Sothis, the story was a familiar one. A group of Pathfinders has gone missing in the desert and he would like to send you to find them. You have been asked to meet at his office to discuss the rescue. You arrive a little early, waiting for the arrival of the captain as you wait around the lodge.
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A stooped, old and rather bedraggled half-orc stomps into the waiting room. By Rovagugs hairy balls this bloody sand gets in everywhere and its hotter than hell out there. Why cant the higher ups never send us to somewhere nice and cool. This weather is terrible for me aching joints. Have they no respect for an old mans faltering health.
He pauses and peers around the room. Hah, none of them young layabouts even here yet, bloody typical is this new generation, don't know how to keep time, probably all gonna get eaten by some horrible desert monster. I bet Norden leaves out some crucial bit of info from the briefing too, would be just like him.
He slumps down into a chair and pulls out a dirty paper bag. Prising a dark boiled sweet from the congealed mass with one long claw he pops it into his mouth and starts vigorously sucking, heedless of the drool that dribbles down his chin as he does so
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A short half-orc man with wide shoulders, clad from head to toe in glimmering full plate steps through the door. A motley collection of weapons hangs at his side and across his back. Around his neck hangs a medallion depecting a flexed arm, holy symbol of the god Kurgess. He looks like he is about to greet Karsa, when a creature bellows from outside.
Harwoooo!!
Kramac stops, and sticks his head out of the door.
Jino! Stay! I told you you can't come in here. Last time I let you into the Lodge, you wrecked the place! I don't care how careful you promise to be! Wait!
His companion momentarily quelled, Kramac turns and surveys the room. Having caught the last bit of Karsa's monologue, Kramac greets the half-orc.
Hah! Any desert monster I have ever met would find Kramac and Jino a tough meal! I welcome them to try though. And who might you be? Whatever your talents, we will surely make a fearsome team!
Kramac strides forward, and gives Karsa a jovial pat on the back, before extending his hand in greeting.
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A tall, cloaked person, dressed for the desert sun, quietly steps into the office...he takes a look around, before pulling back the hood on his cloak to reveal a face with distinct Elven features...
He bows to the two half-Orcs. "Ingrge, at your service..."
To Kramac, he gives a wry yet reserved grin. "You must be Kramac. Flyn told me to give you his regrets that he was not able to make this mission as the Lodge decided to send him to the Cursed Isle. He hopes to catch up with you later...I was also told to pass on the same to a Kiboko but, more importantly, to the wise and beautiful Mvumbu...he said I'd surely recognize her with no description at all..."
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As Kramac slaps him on the back Karsa begins to cough and splutter, doubling over as he appears to choke on his boiled sweet. Retching, he manages to eject the offending object, spattering Kramac's boors.
Careful there lad, you don't know your own strength he says, wheezing and pulling himself up, his shockingly white beard sticking out all over the place. As he stretches a tattoo of a small, green scorpion, scurries from the top of his head down to his neck.
Skills, what skills is it you be wanting to know I bring? he shouts, prodding at Kramac with a long bone stick.
Mostly it's experience lad, I assume yon young'un Balentiir is sending me so there someone with a brain in his skull to make sure you greenhorns come back alive. I might have a bit o'magic in me pocket too to help us out if things get tricky and I never run out of these... he says drawing out a dirty paper bag full of suspicious boiled sweets. Care to take one lad, they'll rot your teeth mind!
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A towering grey-skinned, scarred half orc enters the room. He is clad in a bright breastplate and wears his bleached white dreadlocks under a shapeless cap.
Seeing Kramac, the newcomer strides over and embraces the smaller man.
”Brother Kramac! Kiboko is glad to see you again! But where is Kuuma? Kiboko only saw a rhinoceros outside. Mvumbu is keeping her eye on the beast. A fine creature.”
He nods at the other pathfinders, his grin showing prominent tusks. “Kiboko greets you."
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Karsa peers myopically at Kiboko. Well, aren't you just a walking racial stereotype lad!, he hobbles over to him, Hopefully you've got some brains in that muscle bound frame he snaps as he jabs him with the bone cane he uses to help him get around.
You another one with one of those great lumbering beasts? I hope you plan to clean up after it he says, his voice wavering as he turns and begins looking around in confusion. Where did I leave me bloody specs...g%++##mit, have those kids been hiding them again....
The scorpion tattoo on his neck seems to bulge for a moment before popping out into a tiny, bright green scorpion. It scurries up to his ear and hangs there, twitching, possibly communicating in some strange way.
What do you mean there on me head, don't be ridicule..., he fumbles about, oh, right, there you go. Fumbling with them he jams them onto his nose and peers intently at Kiboko. I s'pose I should introduce this little fellow. This is me familiar, Reginald, bloody stoopid name if you ask me but it's the one he chose.
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Bursting through the doors comes the man whom you are familiar with as the Venture Captain around this areas, Norden Balentiir. He makes a quick headcount and realises that not everyone is present, with a sigh he begins the briefing.
"It can't be helped, but time is strictly of the essence here, and I can't wait any longer. You'll have to fill the rest of the team in." He gripes, "Just over a month ago, a merchant traveling through the Parched Dunes stumbled across the entrance of an ancient tomb, uncovered by the sands. He sold the location of the tomb to the markets here in Sothis, where the knowledge was quickly brought to the Ruby Prince’s attention. Of course, the Ruby Prince contacted me the very same day for efforts to search and recover whatever we find among the sands, and left immediately. They kept in contact via magic for most of the journey, but shortly after entering the tomb itself, they lost contact and have not been heard from since. This has left me restless and worried. You would need to travel to the tomb, find the find the missing Pathfinders, and complete their mission if they have not done so."
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Kramac will take one of the sweets and begin sucking on it, as demonstrated by the elder half-orc. He begins Hah, old man! Advice is always welcome! Feel free to stand in the back and shout advice at Kramac! Bonus points if you sing it!
Kramac takes on a somber tone at the mention of Kuuma.
Kuuma was greviously wounded in a previous mission. He barely survived, and was not fit to continue adventuring. Do not worry though - Kramac found him a nice family in Absalom to live with. And found Jino. Jino is good strong companion!
After hearing the mission briefing, Lost Pathfinder team, eh? I just found one of those - though in the far north. Some of these new recruits are very foolhardy. What kind of threats might we expect to find in the tomb?
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“I know very little of the tomb save it's name. It is called the Hall of Seven Scepters and it is supposedly the final resting place of a powerful merchant prince.” Balentiir adds, but the name might ring familiar to some of you.
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While no one is speaking, the door to Venture-Captain Balentiir's office creaks open as Martha steps inside. Martha is a tall, muscular Chelaxian woman with long dark-blue hair and lightly tanned skin, clad in piecemeal armor of various metals and hides, a glinting falchion hanging from her back. She stands incredibly still in the entrance to the room, eyes silently scanning the Pathfinders sitting in the room, before taking her place.
"Please excuse me for being late, Venture-Captain; my arrival to Sothis was delayed", she says, her voice airy yet crisp and her dental consonants accentuated. "I am Martha, Martha von Lucius, of Cheliax. I listened to the briefing from behind the door, but did not want to interrupt anyone."
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Karsa scowls at Kramac, I do not...sing
As he listens to the briefng his scowl deepens. You want us to track into the endless waste of desert after a bunch of fools who probably got themselves eaten by purple worms. Have you got any idea how hot and sandy and unpleasant it is out there. Have you got no respect for an old mans joints... after which he trails off into incoherent rambling.
At mention of the Tomb he breaks out a variety of books and tomes and mutters a couple of spells. Picking up a blank journal its pages begin to fill with information.
Hmm, this place is the tomb of some idiot merchant who had more patience than I given he had six wives. The lot of them are buried in there and it looks like he had an obsession with traps and puzzles so you knuckleheads best be on the lookout.
Turning to Norden he grumpily asks, So, what are we likely to come across in the desert? Also, I suppose we should have endure elements across the team yes?
Stay still lad, this wont hurt...much he says as he produces a number of small needles. Pulling back his armour marks him with a crude tattoo, whispering a spell over it as he does so. Right, this little bit o'magic will let you unravel enemy magics. It will only work once so make sure to not waste it.
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A dusky-skinned vudrani woman in full adventuring kit speaks up, "Six wives is more than any man -- or woman for that matter -- should need. Perhaps he was killed for hoarding their affections?"
"Do we know anything about the region -- are there known to be bandits or gnolls who are active, of whom we should be wary as we travel to this site?"
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“Kiboko and Mvumbu are accustomed to the heat of the Mwangi Expanse, and Kiboko enjoys the blessing of the Ekujae. Your thoughtfulness is appreciated Grandfather. Be assured Kiboko is a cunning warrior, and Mvumbu is as Wise as she is Beautiful.
If we must face undead in this lost tomb it will make a change from the corruption of civilisation."
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The Venture Captain ponders for a moment regarding the possible threats, "As far as I am aware, I've heard of gnolls, not so much bandits, in this parts of the desert but I would be surprised if you run into them, as I said, this is a popular trading route that is relatively safe." He looks out the window as a group of merchants bring six well fed horses to the lodge. "Well, it looks like your transportation has arrived. Now if you would, please immediately head out in search for the lost agents. Their lives could be at stake!"
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Mounting your horses, you being your journey. Leaving Sothis behind, the group travels southwest, following an ancient trade route for much of the way there. On this road, your journey remains relatively uneventful as suspected of Balentiir, save few encounters with fellow travellers. Mainly merchants or travelers making their way to or from the great city primarily dealing with popular trading goods such as spices, jewellery, and various forms of clothings.
On the second day on the trade route, the directions given to you by Balentiir requires you to leave the simple trail and venture south into the trackless desert. This sun-baked land has few markers and little in the way of respite from the relentless heat.
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Karsa rents a camel rather than a horse. He spends much of the day complaining about how uncomfortable, smelly and recalcitrant it is and its tendency to want to wander off in the wrong direction. He also complains about the heat, the sand and, at night, the cold. All of this is despite his daily use of his wand of endure elements.
He also insists on helping whoever is doing the main survival check on the basis that he is older, and therefore wiser, despite barely having been to Osirion before.
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After the first day on the road, it becomes evident that Martha is not the most talkative person on Golarion. She barely says a word, replying in short sentences that get right to the point when prompted to speak, and spends most of her time watching the environment for danger or objects of interest from horseback. Occasionally, Martha rides up to Juhnavi to point at a landmark she may have missed or check possible trails, but leaves most of the pathfinding to the others.
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Kramac will ride Jino across the desert. He is jovial, always laughing or telling a story. He spends a fair but of time catching up with Kiboko and Mvumbu, and sharing sroties about Flynn with Ingrege. Kramac does attempt to teach Karsa a few songs, mostly by singing poorly at the cantankerous half orc.
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Kiboko and his large hippo companion Mvumbu traverse the desert in high spirits. Kiboko does not even sweat from the heat, whereas Mvumbu glistens with a reddish sheen.
“Kiboko is sorry to hear about Kuuma, Brother Kramac. But Jino looks a strong friend. See how much Mvumbu has grown? She is not a juvenile now!"”
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Upon first seeing Mvumbu, Ingrge's laughs inwardly at himself. Flyn had only described her as 'wise and beautiful beyond words'...Ingrge had assumed she would be some Elf maiden...
Ingrge listens intently to Kramac's tales of his friend. He laughs as Kramac sings to Karsa...he enjoys the camaraderie even though he comes to the same conclusion as Flyn on his new friend's singing ability...
Kramac will shift Jino's animal focus to con bonus, and the Rhino will trek onwards through the desert.
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The rolling dunes of the Parched Desert seem to go on and on, without change. Beyond each ridge is another, and another, and another. But then comes a sudden change. Just over the next ridge lies a nest of bones, rocks, and sand—a very large nest. As you approach this oasis to take a break from the heat, you realise that oasis nest a family of giant scorpions! Upon your arrival, it becomes evidently clear that they do not take a liking to your presence and become very hostile.
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Karsa looks around at his rather denuded companions and then over to the large number of scorpions.
Bah, can't let the yung'uns take all of this lot on head first even if a bit o'poison might be a good lesson for em.
Get down he barks as he raises his bone walking stick and intones a spell. The air around him shimmers and heats blasts from him in all directions. A ball of fire appears in his open palm and rushes forward to engulf the southern group of scorpions.
The force of the explosion drives the old man back a step and he manages to set his eyebrows alight. Patting them out quickly he peers over to where his spell detonated to see what effect it had.
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Martha draws her falchion as soon as she spots the scorpions, her armor now replaced with a set of oversized robes that have clearly not seen much use for a while. Even after Karsa launches his fireball, the fighter remains standing in her place. She tilts her head towards the creatures.
"Attack?"
While it seems that she is desperately trying to conceal it, the sweat on her face and occasional shudders of her limbs make it clear that Martha is not in best condition to fight.
"Moooaaarrggghhh!" bellows Mvumbu the Wise and Beautiful, as she gracefully bounds forwards to her friend's side.