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You meet at the Grinning Pixie, a maginificent vessel who also seconds as a pathfinder lodge, knowing almost nothing about the adventure at hand.
As the Grinning Pixie lurches and sways in the storm, Venture Captain Calisro Benarry of the Arcadian Mariner’s Lodge grins widely as she slides a clay jug of strong Sargavan rum across her table. Though broad-shouldered and half a head taller than most humans, the intimidating half-orc speaks with an almost childlike excitement in her husky voice. “My apologies for all the secrecy,” she says. “I had to make sure some pirate rascal didn’t catch wind of our mission. Now that Drenchport’s a week behind us and we’re hugging the Eye of Abendego, it’s time to give you lubbers the full run-down.”
Benarry waits for the jug to make its way back to her, then takes a long swig. “I mentioned in Drenchport that the Society wants you to explore a recently discovered ruin somewhere north of the Shackles. Well, that was partly true, but it wasn’t exactly the whole story.” Benarry’s eyes narrow and her grin becomes unsettlingly sharklike. “We’re actually sending you to the Gloomspires, to Old Sevenfingers’s tomb.” Chuckling softly, she slides the jug back across the table. “Here, have another nip. Looks like you need it.”
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A lean elf reaches out to take the jug and pour himself a mug of rum. The elf has unruly brown hair, clad in leather with various assortments and tools about his person. On his back a single scabbard is strapped horizontally, with a blade hilt on each end.
His eyes narrow at this new information about the mission. "Tomb raiding eh? And what exactly can we expect to find at this old tomb of yours?"
And maybe a chance for an item or two to slip into my own pockets
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A tall well built half orc stands at the table. He is wearing full plate and has his helm under his arm. He has a large Falcata over his back. On his breat plate is the symbol for Abadar.
"What kind of creatures do we intend to find here"
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Standing between the elf and the orc was an utterly bedraggled young woman who likely stood shorter than the orc's shoulders. Her eyes were slightly squinted and bags rested under them as if she'd just woken up. And the outfit she wore suggested the same, with a hodgepodge of clothing covering her as if she'd just rolled through everyone's bags below deck and pulled on whatever she found. The only consistency were a collection of scarves tied around her neck and limbs.
She stifled several yawns as Benarry introduced the mission, becoming momentarily distracted as she started looking over her shoulder and muttering to herself before the Gloomspires drew her attention back to the moment at hand. After Eraith finishes with the rum she fumbles with the jug in both hands and takes a weak pull from the lip. The face she pulls is ridiculous as she tries to imitate the venture captain, but Seren manages to stifle most of the coughing that comes as she carefully sets the jug down.
She finally manages to sling her thumbs into her belt beside a pair of awkwardly worn Tien blades, poorly trying to look impressive as she continues to cough. "Who's Old Sevenfingers?"
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A tall Half-Elf sits on a bench as the ship sways from side to side. He casually plays a flute while waiting for his orders. He plays a rather somber tune, playing the same section multiple times until he gets it just right. He's dressed in an antique breastplate with the crest of Shelyn in the center. He has a dark brown cloak draped over him and an ornate mask covering his face, except for a slit where his mouth is. He where's a glaive on his back, that he keeps waxed and polished. As the venture Captain speaks he moves to gather at the table, politely passing on the jug without indulging. "I'm curious, should we be concerned with whoever you're so concerned with that we had to wait this long to know what's going on? Also I'm not familiar with this Seven Fingers fellow and what exactly are we looking for is it Art work by chance?
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Gloomspires
Sevenfingers
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Seren stands there, knowing nothing pertinent about the local history. Instead she's quietly humming what sounds like the tune Caladrel was working through moments before.
When the half-elf speaks she waves something unseen from the side of her head and looks at him. "We don't really think something called Gloomspire was ever beautiful... or that you can really make it that way."
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"Well, it *cough cough* puzzles me how you can all act so calm. This is Shackles: thieves are everywhere! Keep your eyes open!"
Sitting next to Eraith is an old Varisian man, almost constantly coughing. He has made it abundantly clear that his name is Kaspar Markov, as if the name is supposed to mean something. He sits with a hunched posture.
Kaspar is dressed in scholar's robes. A worn out grimoire is hanging on his belt, and he carries a scroll box: sure signs of a wizard. A keen eye can spot a bright green scorpion climbing around his pockets, most likely his familiar.
"The Gloomspires. Curses and monsters. I expect great discoveries from there," he says, and then coughs again.
He hasn't touched his beverage.
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"Oh but that is where you, and um whoever else this "we"......he peers around Seren looking for whoever else she is referring to, but seeing no one, he continuesare wrong, there is beauty in all things, all can be redeemed and show beauty he then turns to a dress Markov. What purpose would it serve to get upset, and at what? We have a duty to the society, and that duty will be there no matter. So be calm my friend you look skillful, I'm sure you'll be fine. Oh, but we're are my manners, allow me to introduce myself, I am Caladrel Quinn, last descendant of the Quinn family, and worshipper and right hand of Shelyn. You may call me Cal. He gives a gentleman's bow, with a hand over his crest.
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The chestnut-haired and -bearded dwarf, with a streak of gray in his widow's peak, takes the jug of rum and pours one out for himself. "Soddin' boats, I 'ate these things." He takes a long pull, and smacks his lips. "I ain't never been t'this stretch o' sand b'fore, so I'll rely on all y'all knowin' what's goin' on. Pleased t'meetcha. Name's Graxzos Khar-Bulkhet. M'friends call me Grax. You can call me Graxzos."
He busts up laughing at his own joke. " Well, except ol' man Markov. He's a buddy. Good t'see yeh again!"
Turning more serious, he returns his attention to the venture-captain. "Th' sleepy lass asked a good question: who is this Sevenfingers fella?"
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To Caladrel, Kaspar has these words: "I know I will survive: it's my money pouch I am rightly worried about."
"I am delighted to see you, too, Graxzos." Kaspar's unfazed, bitter face doesn't give the same impression as his words.
"Sempet Sevenfingers was a — *cough cough* — pirate leader, from three centuries ago. Probably dead by now."
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“I’ve been researching the Gloomspires for a very long time. Before I sailed to Absalom and joined the Society, I was a Free Captain here in the Shackles. Back then I learned about the Gloomspires, Old Sevenfingers, and all the treasure and secrets the old devil took with him when he sealed himself in his tomb.”
A long, rumbling growl of thunder makes Benarry pause, and she takes the opportunity to wet her lips with another swig of rum before she continues. “Since joining the Society, I’ve been able to learn even more about the Gloomspires. Most importantly, I’ve discovered that they’re tied to certain alignments of the stars, and that twice each year—beginning on the nights of the summer and winter solstices—the columns cease moving for exactly three days.
“So, tomorrow’s the summer solstice. Now that you know the ‘where’ and the ‘when’ of this little caper, you need to know why the Society’s sending you.” Benarry pauses before continuing in a more conspiratorial voice.
“I recently came into the possession of a logbook once owned by the pirate captain, Mazzer Thrennt. Before Thrennt ended up as lusca-bait seven years back, he was a moderately successful pirate who shared my obsession with the Gloomspires. It turns out his log contains an inventory of the plunder he liberated over the years, including the loot he found in Sevenfingers’s tomb. One item on Thrennt’s list immediately got my attention: His log described with perfect accuracy a relic from lost Lirgen called the Orb of Stars. I’m certain that this device can manipulate the alignments of the stars—or at least how we perceive them— and historical accounts suggest we could also use it to trick the Gloomspires into thinking that the solstice lasts more than just a day. The Society and I both want that orb, and it’s going to look really good to the folks back home if you’re able to secure it. Here,” she says, passing a sheet of parchment across the table,
“I’ve written down some of the particulars.”
Reefs surround the Gloomspires, so big boats like the
Pixie can’t get close. You’ll need to use my magical folding rowboat.At dusk, when the columns cease moving, make your way to the column containing Sevenfingers’s tomb—it’s the one with the shipwreck wrapped around its base. Climb aboard the wreck, and you’ll see a set of narrow stone steps that wind their way to the top of the column. Once up top, find a way inside the tomb and then find the Orb of Stars .
Thrennt’s log claims he hid the Orb in a side chamber connected to what he called the ‘hall of the flesh eaters’ and then collapsed the entrance to keep it safe. So, I’m giving you some picks and shovels since you might need to do some digging.
I’m certain there are multiple levels to this tomb, so keep good notes, and document anything you find that might help future expeditions. Check around the top level, but don’t go any deeper than you have to to find the Orb . Remember, you only have three days to do this before the columns start moving again.
The Orb of Stars is a solid sphere made of a dull copper-colored metal inlaid with dozens of star-shaped moonstones, rubies, and blue sapphires that mimic the stars of the Cosmic Caravan.
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Regarding some of your questions, she replies.
"Who's Old Sevenfingers?"
“He was a powerful wizard and pirate active in the Shackles three centuries ago. After a very long and successful career full of killing, looting, and assorted depravity, he entombed himself alive in one of the Gloomspires. His legendary tomb has lured pirates, explorers, and treasure-hunters to their doom ever since.”
"Captain, many have explored this area, what do you expect us to find that others have not, and how? We must cleanse this place, if nothing else, make it beautiful again."
"As I've just mentioned, our goal, is the Orb of Stars! If I... I mean the society can come into possession of this great treasure, who knows how much more of the mysterious gloomspire we can uncover. Sure there have been many to explore it, but we've only discovered so much!"
She pauses and looks at the lot of you, and hands you each 50 gold pieces in a form of a gift card. Valid for one day only, the grinning pixie's quartermaster's tools of the trades.
"Now, do you need anything else? Speak to my quartermaster if you need to purchase stuff."
The grinning pixie's quartermaster is also a master of the trades. He is able to find for you any mundane and alchemical gear. In addition, also a few magic items.
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Listening to the Venture-Captain's briefing, Kaspar almost seems to turn a decade younger, as he smiles warmly.
"Powerful wizards, mysterious artifacts, ancient ruins, legendary tombs. I am reminded why I became a Pathfinder in the first place."
"Benarry. Perhaps you missed it, but we were inquiring about the ruins' activity. Can you tell us what manner of creatures are found there?" he asks the Venture-Captain. "And thank you for this gift card."
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"So we are going to the tomb of a dead.. maybe undead.. wizard to find this orb of stars. " he pauses for a minute. " What happens if we are in there longer than 3 days"
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Seren seems to be collecting herself as she spins the card over in her hand several times, debating what it really was. She decided it was probably going to be a pair of alchemist fires if nothing else... you never knew where a swarm was hiding.
At Grax's words she tosses him a lethargic smile. "Wynn says she's glad you aren't afraid of ghosts. It was going to make the trip a little awkward if you were."
Then her attention is dragged back to Benarry. "The big guy is right... if we get stuck for some reason are we just trapped there?"
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"Who's Wynn, again?" Kaspar asks Seren. "Although never mind. I want everyone to gath— *cough* — gather around, and listen."
"No one here knows the undead better than I, for I am a scholar of the dead. Believe me when I say that an undead creature is much more valuable controlled than destroyed. When the opportunity arises," Kaspar pauses as he gets a coughing fit, "let me, Kaspar Markov, gain control over them. But keep your eyes open! Defend yourself, and don't hesitate to destroy any undead that I cannot control."
With his short speech over, Kaspar addresses Graxzos. "What kind of experience have you had with the undead?"
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"...shootin' 'em mostly," Graxzos admits, giving Kaspar a bit of side-eye. "M'people are tomb guardians in Osirion, an' risin's are more common than they'd like. I been clawed by ghouls, bit by zombies, touched by ghosts...got a bit of a tol'rance built up."
He chuckles darkly. "'course, m'father an' mother wouldn' be too 'appy abou' me goin' an' raidin' a tomb, so I ain't a very good Pahmet. You do whatcha gotta do, Markov. I'll shoot any tha' don't fall in line!"
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"Let's say, if you get trapped there more than three days, the likelihood of you escaping out alive, is nil to none." She starts laughing at herself. [/b]"Now, if there are no more questions, you best take your rest as you'll leave my vessel very soon."[/b]
A couple hours later, you approach the Gloomspires, there are columns a many, they look rather plane, but you are amazed at how they came to be in such an isolated place in the sea. You try to count them but with a strange fog enveloping around, you can't see more than a mile out into the place. You're dropped off at what is described to you as the path towards Sevenfinger's Tomb, and walk up narrow winding steps. The journey is long and tedious, and all you see is grey stone after stone after stone, the journey up the stairs takes approximately two hours.
A lush canopy of tropical trees, flowering vines, and thick undergrowth forms a dark green wall around this small clearing. A broad trail cuts through the foliage and vanishes into the mists to the northwest. To the south and east is the edge of the column, and a sheer five hundred-foot drop. The ground here is a soggy carpet of thick green moss and black soil.
[spoiler=Perception or Survival DC10] At the side, near to the trees, you find the remains of a weeks old campfire that contains the charred skull and bone fragments of a humanoid. All of the bones show signs of gnawing.
The architecture of the gloomspires is foreign to you, it does not follow any architecture of Golarians, it's somewhat alien.
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Kaspar does his best to endure the tedious climb. A bit surprisingly, he never once utters the words, "I am too old for this".
He hunches over the previous campfire, grabs a few bones, and puts them in his belt pouch. "It almost seems like these humanoids were bitten and burned, or cooked and eaten. Wouldn't you agree?"
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"Oh... good." Her words are weak and spoken softly. "We're all running out of there as fast as we can on day three, then." Once they're dismissed she will rush over to the quartermaster to get herself a couple of holy waters for to better deal with supposed undead. Even with old man Kaspar assuring them he could handle it.
During the two hour trek up the side of the spire Seren alternates between telling benign ghost stories about creatures more akin to Casper than Zuul, and playing a game similar to hopscotch as she moves form step to step.
At the top she comes to a clattering stop, taking a moment to look back over the edge and blanche. "There's a quick way back down, but it doesn't look very fun." She giggles several seconds later and winks at the air before turning back to the fog covered forest. "Can't see a thing in there, though. Probably going to get attacked by some jungle cats for our trouble."
After glancing around several moments she gets distracted by Kaspar and his bones, she'll grab one herself and stare at it closely. "Something definitely chewed it, how can you tell what it is though? Just looks like any animal bone to me."
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Rogar will pick up few holy water with free voucher.
"look over there. There are humanoid tracks leading this way. Let's be careful. We don't know who or what did this to these people"
Rogar will take point as the party moves forward
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Seren puts a little skip in her step to get started and catch back up to the departing group. She's more tense than she was, pulling out the pair of wakizashi at her hips in two seperate, unpracticed motions. She doesn't seem to have a clue how to hold them beyond not touching the sharp parts, but it makes her feel better to have them out when wandering in strange fog.
"Your education is pretty good, Mr. Markov. My teachers can't seem to focus long enough to tell me anything useful like that."
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Eraith nods at the Venture Captain's words, wordlessly pockets the voucher and heads over to the quartermaster before boarding the ship
Eraith, ill at ease in the wilderness, quietly observes the surroundings and keeps his opinions to himself when the party encounters the campsite.
Upon hearing Rogar's observation, Eraith draws his twin wakizashis' and inwardly shakes his head at Seren's method of handling her own blades Hope she doesnt cut her own hand off
Eraith whispers to the party "Let me scout ahead just in case"
and attempts to disappear into the foliage.
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This clearing is shrouded in shadows thanks to the thick jungle canopy overhead. A dozen makeshift beds of leaves and palm fronds surround a sickly campfire that barely manages to keep smoldering in the humid air.
As Eraith moves up, he is not as quiet as he thinks he is, almost immediately, a few bodies rise up from the makeshift beds and start howling like animals. At this time, you are unable to clearly make out how many or what they look like, but you know there's more than one.
Caladreal,Eraith,Graxzos,Kaspar,Rogar,Seren
Barbarians
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Before the party scout goes into action, Kaspar chats with Seren while on the stroll.
"There is no need for honorifics, young girl. We are all equals in the Society." Kaspar ponders for a second. "Pray tell, have you considered being mentored? I seldom take pupils, but I sense some unexplainable energy around—"
He notices Eraith has found trouble, and decides to move closer to where he can see, and then casts his family's signature spell: glitterdust.
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"Sure thing... uh, Markov. Equals it is." She would have further responded about doing badly with mentors as she tends to get distracted easily, but apparently so does Markov as he wanders off mid-sentence. She watched him in a moment of consideration, then snapped herself back to the reality of the situation.
"Hey old guy, don't go standing up front like that!" Seren takes off after Kaspar at the sounds of the howling, falling into the steps of a twirling dance as she goes. By the time she ends her motion before the wizard her face has gone as pale as his and her eyes have rolled back into her head.
Eraith will be comforted to realize she is holding her weapons with far greater confidence now. An uncharacteristically prideful grin now sits on her face as she waits for opponents.
Spirit Aura: All allies within 30ft gain a +2 bonus on all non-spell damage rolls.
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Graxzos, new backpack on his back (and several large items now conspicuously missing from his person), makes the climb with ease. "Glad I invested in this baby!"
Graxzos nods and follows along with the others when they follow the tracks--when he hears the howl up ahead, though, and sees Kaspar and Seren hustling forward, he curses. "Damn spell-slingers! Didn' anyone teach yeh t'stay behind those o' us what can take a hit?!"
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Rogar will double move to his current location
"I will move around and cut off their retreat. These evil creatures will be destroyed."
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Orange
Black
Pink
Purple
Yellow
As most pathfinders put themselves into position, Kaspar throws glitter into the eyes of the few, causing sight problems in some of them. As the party gets closer, they make out the shape of the enemies. They appear to be heavily tatooed woman scantily clad in primal like outfits made of skeletons, fur, straw, and leather.
Caladreal, Eraith, Graxzos,Kaspar,Rogar,Seren
Barbarians orange (blinded) pink (blinded) purple (blinded)
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Eraith steps on a twig as he walks along the path, the snapping sound alerting the howling enemies who rise and approach them. He curses his lack of woodlore, and realising that the pathfinders faced foes of flesh and blood instead of undead, studies the enemies for any weaknesses.
Failing to spot any obvious weaknesses, Eraith moves quickly to take advantage of their blindness and stabs one of them.
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The barbarian like woman in their weak state attempt to crave out flesh from their enemies, however due to their weakness they're barely able to hit their targets. Only one is able to land a solid bite on Eraith.
Caladreal, Eraith -4, Graxzos, Kaspar, Rogar, Seren
Barbarians orange -9 +1hp (blinded) pink (blinded) purple (blinded)