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 the Great Hall of Skyreach, the main fortress of the Grand Lodge in Absalom. 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 many months 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. 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, 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 Absalom, several days in the blustery Inner Sea, and another spent weaving through the bureaucracy of the Taldan customs rituals, 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.
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George, a tall, brusque man in a floor-length, black hooded cloak and a smoked glass mask of high quality, lightly steps down the muddy road, blowing smoke rings from the four-hose hookah attached to his back. His porter trudging next to him, ensuring the masked man's belongings are not tarnished by rain or mud. His misshapen monkey familiar riding his shoulder, tending to the coals, adding bits of tobacco and other herbals to the head and occasionally puffing on his own miniature hose that sprouts from the neck.
Letting the bold striders in the front take the reins of the mission, he ponders if he brought the right gear for the job. Muttering to himself, Drow, giant wasp, Ambras's, isolation, shadow essence..... He draws in another breath of golden smoke, I do hope I brought my tools. The monkey leaps over to the porter to fish out a rolled up black sackcloth and throws it at the head of the alchemist who deftly catches it, unfurling it to revealing gleaming picks and hooks. Ah, here they are. Thanks Mr. Chips. He proudly states before slipping them in his back pocket, claws gleaming the sullen rain.
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Kraang gives Dreng his undivided attention, nodding at all the appropriate moments. His sour milk colored eyes focus on Dreng's every mannerism through his cowl. Kraang rests his body on his stout quarterstaff, as long, rubbery fingers rap the wood.
Once the mission has been presented, Kraang gives sounds of approval coming from his covered throat. He scans blankly as he twists his neck to gaze upon his Pathfinder companions.
"You will do."
After the briefing, Kraang heads to the quartermaster. He utters only the necessary words while pointing to what he desires.
Scimitar. Cloak.
To any that also are purchasing supplies, Kraang chortles and gives some advice.
"Edged weapons will be needed for these cultists . . . minions"
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If I am needed to wield a weapon then you have not performed your job. Nivik states quite simply toward Kraang. Upon hearing Jake's statement Nivik adds, Don't be too quick to judge, my new friend.
Sensing that it may be easier to simply allow the cowled one to take command, Nivik simply smiles at him and states, If you have everything you need we are ready to depart.
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Ignatius is taken aback a little at Kraang's rather enigmatic statement, and the reaction it gets from the others.
"Well, I shall do my best, I will," he offers to the others. Why, these fellows all seem to be veterans, or at least they've been around the block a few times.
He follows Kraang to the quartermaster and picks up a few things. "Holy water... you never know what these cultists might have up their sleeves, right?" he asks the enigmatic, cloaked figure.
He then reaches down and partially draws his longsword, an obvious look of pride on his face. "Got the blade covered. Oh, by the way - I'm Ignatius."
"Does Hustavan need to live?"
"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. He’s fallen on hard times since—hard enough that he joined the cultists out of desperation. 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."
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After gathering supplies and getting some further information from the Venture-Captain, the party continues heading towards the burned-out temple of Sarenrae that has since been used as the headquarters of the grim cult.
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.
As you approach the shelter, you can hear the sounds of several wild dogs and the wimpering of a frightened human. The party rushes forward. . .
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.
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. When you arrive, Hustavan stands on the pulpit wielding a long piece of wet, rotting wood and is just barely keeping the dogs at bay.
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Kraang ponders for a moment. Like most of his druid kin, he has the ability to sooth the angry nature of animals. And like most things in life, there is a time and place for such measures.
This isn't one of those times.
Kraang draws closer to the dog pile, using his quarterstaff to glide over the debris before him.
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[Out of turn, but this relies on GM interaction and I don't want to slow down combat (aka Mike can reference this on his next post instead of waiting for me to post it after the dogs and then he has to post again). I don't know if this is allowed, but it makes sense to me.]
George's keen eye examines the dogs before he reacts to the scene unfurling before him to see if they pose significant threats to the party.
Ignatius rushes in with his sword and shield at the ready, trying to distract the dogs away from Hustavan. Kraang considers calming the dogs down but decides to move in with Iggy for the attack. Jake likewise advances while Nivik shoots a missile at one of the dogs!
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Luckily, the plan to distract the dogs seems to have worked and the dogs move after the fresh meat!
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George recognizes these as wild (perhaps rabid?) riding dogs.
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George silently moves through the room, exiting through a side door and moving along the outer wall. He empathically urges Mr. Chips to move to the besieged man in the temple and bring him to George.
Mr. Chips jumps from George shoulder and scurries inward, spotting the cowering man on the dais. Ook, ook! Mr. Chips points to the doorway he came from and jumps up and down before running back out.
George moves along the outside and sends his stolen monkey into to attract the man's attention. Hustavan follows the orders and makes his way down the stairs quickly and towards the opening away from the dogs.
With a blast of fire, Nivik takes out one of the dogs! Kraaang smacks the other dog over the head with his quarterstaff and Ignatius swings but misses. Jake moves up into the fray and finishes the dog off.
Hustavan drops to his knees and begins sobbing. "Oh, thank you! So stupid of me! The cultists were building traps and killing one another when I fled, and I couldn't even get away from them on my own! No one has even come to the surface since. There was some ragged dead thing with skin like blood and eyes like fire sent by Zyphus himself! But that was a week ago when I tried to get out and make it up here by myself; I don't know what's been going on since, but I couldn't be around with that thing in our presence." He dries his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. "I've made far too many mistakes. I want to accompany you down into the hideout as a guide. It's the least I can do to repay you. Besides, I don't want to be up here alone or travel back by myself."
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Ignatius sheathes his sword and approaches Hustavan. "They turned on each other? That's not such a bad thing..." He smoothes back his hair as he thinks, then turns to the others, then faces back to Hustavan.
Iggy gives the old man a solid look, ever suspicious of strange people met in ruined buildings.
Is he being sincere? Can he be trusted?
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George proclaims loudly, We cannot trust a man who betrayed his title of Magistros of Oppara by joining the Zyphans. Look at him, he has now betrayed these same Zyphans to join the Pathfinder Society. I would propose that we put him to death for his nature and save him the heartbreak of continual betrayal that this man only seems capable of, but he has been requested alive by the mission docket and by Monsigneur Flaxseed. That being said, perhaps he will also be useful in identifying the traps of the underground complex and if he isn't, then he may learn to... fast. I propose we secure the betrayer in ropes, give him a ten foot leash and have him lead us throughout the Zyphan dungeon.
George then closes his eyes, pushes Mr. Chips empathically to light new coals for his hookah. Mr. Chips scuttles under George's thick cloak and reappears on his shoulder, holding some more herbals which are added to the head. George tries to remember what he learned at Daggermark about Zyphus as he solemnly inhales and exhales the fluorescent blue smoke.
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Kraang causually looks at the dog's bite mark. He then pulls out a wand that looks to be made out of honeycomb with an egged shaped piece of amber on top. The amber has a bee trapped in side.
Alcocer
Alcocer
In response to George's suggestion, Kraang! pulls out a pinch of dirt and spreads it out before him. He steps onto the dirt and scuff his feet twice while in-canting a spell in Druidic. Once done, Kraang!'s gaze over at Geroge and says.
"Your dog."
Hustavan stays quiet as George discusses what may be a grim fate for the traitor.
George recalls that Zyphus is a minor god, the deity of accidents, tragedy, and graveyards. His faithful call him the Grim Harvestman, or sometimes Father Grim. He delights in stealing souls bound for Pharasma’s Graveyard—specifically, he steals souls that die in tragic accidents, so his faithful try to make those happen as often as possible.
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"Tragic accidents, eh? That could explain why these cultists got so violent with each other," Iggy notes - trying to sound helpful.
Not wanting to waste time, Ignatius follows George's suggestion and ties up Hustavan with his silk rope, leaving enough at the end for Ignatius to hold on to as the old man guides them.
"Unless you want to hold the rope," Ignatius asks George, holding the end out to him.
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By all means, Ignatius. You seem the stronger of the two of us to pull him to safety.
George turns to face Hustavan, This rope is your lifeline. You know the traps, right? Well, if you don't then this rope is what stands between you and being impaled on poisoned spears. To illustrate this, he reaches over and gives a tug on the rope implying that should he need to be rescued that Ignatius will yank him to safety.
That being said, as a Zyphan, you should be honored to fall prey to a trap. Your patron god has given you the ultimate gift, so this is your dream job, right? The intended dark, wry, sarcastic humor is likely lost on Hustavan.
George turns back to the party, I will be just behind the betrayer to double check for traps. George slips the picks and hooks from inside his cloak to show the group. Then I will disable them.
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"Know? No, I don't know the traps! I haven't been down there in over a week, I don't know what they've done since then! I told you, I don't want to be a Zyphan any more! But if this is your punishment for my shameful acts, then so be it!" Hustavan looks to Nivik pleadingly, seeing that the elf has more compassion than the other Pathfinders.
Hustavan leads the way down. 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.
Sure enough, as Hustavan careful eases his way towards the statues, suddenly a sickly green arrow shoots out at him!
The arrow drives into the poor man's flesh and dissolves into acid.
Hustavan calls back, "Ah! I'm so sorry I failed you! Please don't let me die for this mistake! I'm not good at this! I'm not good at this!"
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Some rustling occurs under his cloak before George produces a lithe sandalwood branch adorned with runes. He extends the branch to Ignatius. I believe that you are capable of divine magic. Would you mind patching up the betrayer? I am out of alkali fluid to counteract the acid, however continual application of the wand's magic should suffice. I believe your kind refers to it as Cure Light Wounds.
He examines the wound and sees the acid continuing to burn. Interesting... The acid seems to have eaten through the arrow and is still fizzing. I must remember this for the future.
George focuses on the statues a bit more closely to identify the trap and its mechanism. He examines both the statues themselves and the floor for potential trigger mechanisms.
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You hold onto the wand as it is largely useless for me. That being said, a man of my proclivities needs to be ready for any situation and this situation appears all to often in the Society, it seems. Nivik and betrayer. You seem to be in the line of sight of the arrow trap. I believe the stairway is still safe. Perhaps find refuge there whilst I search the nearby hallways for more Zyphans and disable this trap.
While Ignatius is caring for Hustavaan, George will stealth forward and move out of what he believes is the LOS of the trap. He will first peer down the hallway branching to the left before attempting to disable the trap on the statue, provided he sees the mechanism.