It has been nearly 5 days since late evening messengers pulled you awake from your tasks and ordered you to appear before Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng by midnight. Dreng, ever presenting the appearance of the doddering, decrepit old man, met you in his personal quarters in Cassomir. Dressed only in tattered night clothes complete with a faded yellow sleeping cap, the youthful excitement in Dreng’s eyes belied his elderly appearance.
“We’ve found them!” he declared, the moment you arrived in the Great Hall. “Those pitiful bastards who murdered Pathfinder Bodriggan Wuthers in Oppara those few days ago—you know, the Zyphus-worshipping fools who tried to turn Oppara into a zombie-filled nightmare? After all this time, we finally tracked their remnants to a burned-out temple in the vagabond camp across the river from the capital. You will set out for there at once—there is a ship waiting—and meet a man named Sebastus Hustavan outside the burned-out temple. You should remember him. You saved his life. Once a man of great importance, he seems to have fallen on hard times—fallen so far as to join those Zyphus fiends. But he’s redeemed himself by telling us their location! Find Hustavan—it can’t be hard, there’s only one burned-out temple to Sarenrae in the vagabond camp—learn all you can about the cult’s hideout, and then cleanse it of their presence. Cultists across Golarion must know they may not use the Society to fulfill their horrid glories—so too will they know that the Society will not stand by and watch its members murdered!”
Dreng cleared his throat then, his posture losing the sudden youthful fire and passion and looking more like Mu at this moment, his shoulders hunching once more, his face pinched and tired. “Of course, while you are there,” he rasped, “do your duty as Pathfinders and seek anything they may have that the Society would need in the vaults.”
So, after a hurried early morning rush to gather supplies in Cassomir, several days in the blustery open plains, and another trying to locate this abandoned shrine, you find yourself walking through a chilly, early morning rain storm and approaching what the vagabond locals say is the location of the burned-out temple to Sarenrae.
|
A weathered dwarf sat, seemingly collapsed, in a large chair in the briefing. Has it really only been five days? By the goddess, I've been busy! He looks like he has been to several layers of hell, plus the Worldwound on multiple occasions since that time in the theatre.
"Ah, ye must be the other Pathfinders. I had heard ye were at the theatre as well. A wonder I didn't see ye. Must have been across the auditorium or some such. Name's Baern. All that's left of the Bellindorn clan, at least that's what they tell me. Pleased to make ye'r acquaintance."
Once out of the meeting, the surly dwarf goes to get his favourite breastplate enchanted further. You notice a large plate adhered to the armour over where the heart would lie. It appears as though there is a rather large dent beneath it. Baern merely shakes his head regarding it muttering something about a "flying b%%$$ with a score to settle".
|
Still wearing the fancy nobles clothes from the opera a tall half orc stands in the corner. Across his back is his trusty great axe and on his shoulder sits a tiny bat. "If I recall this Sebastus was difficult and did not like to follow directions. Do we really have to trust this man to lead us into a cultist layer?"
|
|
Seb.. Seb.. Sebastus shtill owesh ush a drink Gob!
A muffled voice comes from the doorway as you suddenly hear a loud banging sound and a clattering of pots and vases as they break all over the floor.
Immm... alright
You turn around to see a man picking him self up off the ground. The man looks as if the only shower he has gotten since the Oppara was sleeping in a slightly filled horse trough.
He sways while he stands looking as if he might tip over again but yet he seems to be pretty stable.
|
looking more like Mu at this moment
Back at the Pathfinder meeting...
Mu, at that moment, was looking almost like Dreng -head down on the table, slightly snoring, old man drool edging out the corner of his mouth. He had completely slept through the whole briefing, then woke up asking if Dreng had come by yet. Once Shu had filled him in along the journey to the temple, Mu picked up a few suprlies along with his usual Tian ingredients at the local Tian town of whatever city."Hoi. Why we heah?", he asks Shu for the fifth time in four days.
Dreng looks wearily at Malachite, sipping from his mug before answering his question. “Hustavan was once a consul of the empire and carried the title Magistros. He was present in the House of the Immortal Son when the Society saved Oppara from the cultists as you know. In the last few days, it has become apparent that he had joined the cultists out of desperation. He has fallen on hard times over the last few years and it is likely that the cultists promised power or fame. Who knows... His recent messages to our lodge in Oppara indicate that something in the cult has changed and he wants out, so he’s given us their location in exchange for us keeping him safe and bringing him back to Absalom, where he will likely spend his days scrubbing floors in Skyreach.”
I don't recommend to trust the man implicitly, but we have reason to believe that he truly desires to leave the Zyphan cult. He is a coward at heart as you saw a few days ago. You can always trust a coward to run from trouble. Dreng holds his mug in two hands in an attempt to warm his frail, bony hands.
-----
Rain patters down in sheets over the scorched skeleton of a once majestic temple. Walls of thick, blackened masonry stand tall and abandoned, with gaping wounds revealing where stained glass windows once caught the morning sun. The roof has collapsed and most of its remnants are long gone. Only large, immovable remnants of the crumbling masonry remain in the rubble piles scattered throughout the ruin.
All that remains inside this ruin are rocks and chunks of wood either too worn down and ruined to be of use or too heavy to carry away. There are signs that this place has been used in the past for shelter, but it has since completely collapsed, and most of the residents of the vagabond camp seem to give it wide berth. Two sets of ruined stairs in the temples south wall lead up to a once proud pulpit. At the back of the pulpit, an enormous stone lid, several hundred pounds in weight, has been pulled off a set of stairs leading down into darkness.
As you approach the meeting spot, you hear baying and growling in the temple. You hurry to the entrance and see the former consul of Oppara, Magistros Sebastus Hustavan, is here, currently being menaced by a pack of wild dogs. Hustavan is well over 6 feet tall, shockingly thin, and quite old. His head is balding and fringed by frizzled gray hair. His chin and cheeks are covered in several weeks’ worth of beard growth, the gray hairs standing out against his pale, leathery skin. He wears long white robes, muddy, torn, and ragged, and wears what looks to be a blue sash tied around his waist as a belt. The dogs are mangy, dirty things that wander the fringes of the vagabond camp in search of food or easy prey. Hustavan stands on the rundown Serenite pulpit. He’s wielding a long piece of wet, rotting wood and is just barely keeping the dogs at bay.
Initiative:
Initiative:
1st: Gob; Bevek; Brewslee; Shu; Mu; Malachite; Baern
2nd: Hounds
Most the group rushes forward to protect their ward. Mu whacks a hound as it rushes at him. Bevek and Shu put it down with two quick shots after Mu disorients it with an attack.
Gob and Baern launch acid and ice at the remaining hound.
Malachite, the eternally indecisive, falters. The hound runs from the magic and weapons that threatens it, recognizing when it is outnumbered.
The man that most of you recognize as Hustavan rushes from the broken down pulpit. Thank god you are here! I thought I was done for. Doomed to die in this wretched place. He spits on the ground of the desecrated temple.
He remembers the opera house and your tactics and he ushers Shu down the stairs at the back of the pulpit. Quick, while they don't suspect anything. We must end this so I can return to society. Anything is better than this group of monsters and murderers...
Status:
Gob @ 23/23 HP; Bevek @ 16/16 HP; Brewslee @ 17/17 HP; Shu @ 41/41 HP; Mu @ 35/35 HP; Malachite; Baern @ 52/52 HP
|
|
"..." Sh!t..
Shu takes a breath. "Ok, like last time." He stops and looks at Gob. "Indoor voice Mr. Fancypants."
Taking a scroll from his haversack, he casts a mage armor spell to protect himself and a message spell to keep in touch with those behind him.
Once protected, he takes the lead, moving quietly down the steps with eyes peeled for trouble and another spell looking for magical traps.
At the bottom of the stairs that lead down from the surface is a small room. Two female statues stand in the middle of the room; their arms were broken off and are missing, and their facial features were long ago scraped away.
The statues both appear magical to Shu. The first is Conjuration while the other is Abjuration. Hustavan stays 15' behind the ninja, but tumbles down the stairs after he trips, rolling into the corner after he hits the bottom of the stairs. Ow...
He stands up shakily. Well handled, great Pathfinder. Those stairs were trouble and you easily moved on them. Quite the adventurer!
|
|
Baern flinches as the man spits on this once hallowed ground and casually glances at his wayfinder which, rather than points north, points to the nearest evil aura within 60 feet.
With scimitar and shield drawn, he enters the stairway with the others, keeping an eye for trouble.
When the pitiful man falls down the stairs, Baern simply shakes his head and keeps focused on what may lie ahead, continually checking his wayfinder.
Mmm... it looks delicious! Hustavan gladly eats the egg. Quite tasty! Thank you for the lunch! You shall have innumerable riches once we are back in Absalom!
Ooo... I love pig knuckle. We must have some of that once we reach Absalom. I know the best place for it. They do it up with a little apple chutney and cracklin'. I'm sure you would love it, great adventurer. Hustavan's stomach growls. Do you have some pig knuckle on you know for sandwiches? It's not the best time, but my mother, Nethys care for her, always said to make time for food cause you never know when you will get to eat again.
|
Malachite nods as Gob offers extra protection. "The arcane warding you gave worked well last time. I will take advantage of it again, if you are offering, kind master."
After getting the mage armor, Malachite will go move the loud-mouthed Hustavan from any more trouble with Shu and Mu Ping. "Better you stay back here, away from danger, good sir." he says, patting the man on the head. "Wise masters need to concentrate, so kindly be silent."
Mu punches Hustavan on the shoulder, but his armor absorbs all of the power that the ancient monk was trying to impart. Hustavan jovily responds with a punch to the monk's shoulder. This is the new thing that's hip with the children, right? He makes some awkward hand gestures. Wazzzzzup...
Malachite comes down the stairs to talk to Hustavan, but Hustavan chides him in return. Your elders are speaking, young man. I acknowledge your respectful tone, but we older gents have a special language. He punches Mu on the shoulder again. Don't we, Master Mu.
Bevek peers around the corner of the stairs, but he doesn't see any traps to disable.
Those are statues. Kind of worn down now, don't ya think? I don't think they are worth much... Hustavan answers to Shu's questions. Gnomes know what statues are, right? Never been to a gnomish city before. We have them everywhere in human cities. Figured you would have seen one in Absalom or something. They are cuts of stone in the shape of whatever the sculptor wants. A sculptor is... Hustavan starts rambling.
Hustavan has no weapons and no magical auras on him.
|
|
Malachite rolls his eyes to heaven using all his training to be patient with the irritating man.
He steps back to his place letting the wise masters deal with this fool, and keeping his eyes open for a real threat.
"Wise Masters, with your blessing I will proceed past these statues and we will see what transpires?"
|
|
Mu waves his wand over Mal, "Prlay to Shyka... and... you got armah. But maybe rlet empurah go filrst. " he points at the gnome.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Hustavan chides Shu after ignoring Baern. This spritely fellow is naught but in his eighties. He was but a child when I was already a man. This must mean we are going to be best friends, Master Shu. I will show you the best statues in Absalom. A well-kempt man must know about things like statues. These are paltry things compared to the best.
A fine rule, mister Gob. Your intelligence is only exceeded by your looks. Hustavan says to the wizard.