You are waiting with your fellow agents to hear your briefing.
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The tall human wears a simple jerkin over an exceptional-looking suit of fine golden armor. His face is grizzled, and he carries a stout bow in his hand. At his side is an enormous gray wolf, easily as large as a horse. The wolf looks content, sitting on his haunches and panting happily.
The man waits for his companions to arrive.
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A short, stout dwarf enters the lodge.. He's still wearing the dirty. blackend fullplate he had last time you all saw him.. Across his back is a greatsword that nearly drags the ground.. A tattoo or Gorum resides on his left cheek.. A symbol of who he gives worship too..
He nods to Osric.. "Nice to see your still around Osric! How's the slaying been lately?" He pulls a piece of jerky and tosses it to the dire wolf before pulling a cigar and fireing it up.. Taking a seat he takes a few pulls while awaiting a response.. Looking for a servant.. "What's a dwarf gotta do to get a beer or five around here?"
Venture-Captain Osretia Cassomiran welcomes you to her office, and delivers a curt briefing over spiced tea and sweet incense as she peruses an overflowing bookshelf distractedly. “I need to send you to Koor, where a valuable Pathfinder agent has seemingly disappeared. Her name is Zahra Kadamizi—a gifted scholar and archaeologist, and one of the most knowledgeable agents I know on the topic of genies. When she last reported in, she was searching for an ancient Toragdan vault-turned-prison hidden amid Koor’s crumbling ruins.”
Osretia drops a heavy book on a table with a dull thud; its cover reads Moukadeem, the Drowned Emir of the Ever-Thirsting Oasis. She opens the book and begins to read aloud.
“Deep within Koor, in the year four thousand twenty, Absalom Reckoning, I, Ahmad of the North, trapped the mighty marid Moukadeem in an iron lamp, casting a seal of solitude upon it. Let none free him, may Torag be praised. And thus I threw the lamp into the steel vault of the mighty Father of Creation below the forge-city Koor...”
Osretia leaned back, and took a sip from her tea. “This is clearly why Zahra went looking for the vault, and perhaps why she’s gone silent if she found it. I want you to collect her notes, penetrate the vault, and bring her back safely. If you should find this storied iron lamp, of course you must bring it back as well. Any questions?”
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A half-elven woman, far too slender for her inlayed and gilded full plat, strides forth from the corner. "Fascinating indeed, Madame Cassomira. I assure you that the the Church of the Abadar is fully in agreement in your mission of exploring this site and, hopefully, recovering this valuable artifact. And I see you have enlisted some of the finest of agents for this endeavor; Grimnir, Osric, a pleasure as always. Although... did you by chance do we have a linguist or master of the arcane among our ranks for this journey?"
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A tall, handsome man with Chelaxian features, but the latest Magnimarian clothing saunters in. "Sorry I'm late!" He gets a look of concentration on his face. "I overheard most of the briefing, let's see. The marid known as Moukadeem plagued the headwaters of the River Ladan over 700 years ago. His wicked ways and penchant for cruelty earned him the moniker, “The Mad Marid”. Moukadeem’s appetite for human women knew no bounds, and during his reign of terror, he took many concubines and mixed his marid blood with the most beautiful of Qadiran women." Flinders shakes his head. "As punishment for the genie’s crimes, a high priest of Torag bound the insufferable Moukadeem in a lamp and tossed him into the fires of Koor’s smelting house."
Flinders smiles and rubs his hands together, warming up to his dissertation. "Ah, let's see Koor....It was an ancient forge-city, now a broken ruin of stone, clay, and bronze. Abandoned during the centuries-long war between Qadira and Taldor, it remains a mystery why the no one has ever repopulated the city. Legends tell of a Qadiran noble who lost an immense dowry within Koor around the time of its abandonment. This noble stored the dowry he was amassing in the Forbidden Furnace for safekeeping, but because of the vault keepers’ desertion, he lost the chance to gain his true love’s hand in marriage. A powerful cult of Torag flourished in Koor’s industrial heyday. Its leaders brought much wealth in and out of the city, for they encouraged efficient production and quality unmatched throughout much of the Inner Sea. When the city became a resource contested by the Qadiran and Taldan armies during the Ghevran Victories, the lawful good Toragdan leadership abdicated the city to avoid contributing their skill and knowledge to what they saw as a needlessly bloody war. When the city’s forges ceased to function without the Toragdans’ guidance, the city was abandoned entirely, leaving the vast wealth of its rich aristocracy behind."
Flinders takes a deep breath and sighs. "Alas, that is all I can recall of the matter."
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A slender blonde woman with obvious elven heritage steps forward. She wears studded leather that covers some important things, but leaves her belly exposeed. A whip is coiled at her hip and a buckler is strapped to her arm.
"I am a bit of a linguist," she says in a silky voice. "And I have a few spells at my disposal."
Grim and Muriel know that Marids are genies from the Plane of Water. The most powerful of all the genie races, they are said to possess the strength of the ocean's currents and teeth made of pearl. A marid typically stands about 16 feet tall and weighs nearly 2500 lbs. They are perhaps the most unpredictable and capricious of the genies, a quality that the others (particularly shaitans) find to be both aggravating and embarrassing to the entire genie culture. Many marids become dancers, storytellers, performers, or other types of artists, and often travel to the Material Plane in disguise to seek out new audiences.
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A Varisian man in his early fifties, wrinkles starting to cover his bald head. He has a large rune tattoed on his forehead, one that Thassilonian experts may recognize as the Wrath rune. Many other tattoos, either written in Varisian or Thassilonian, cover his body, including the Sihedron rune on his chest. The man is often seen with his chest bare, a red varisian scarf around his waist and breeches covering his legs. A veil of bone and silk covers his lower jaw and nose, embroidered with ancient symbols and Thassilonian runes.
"I am Shandor Arvandru," the elderly Varisian says in a rasping voice, "though the young Pathfinders often call me "the Beast". I am here to lay waste to our enemies, prove the inevitable superiority of Thassilonian Wrath magic over all known and unknown ancient empires. A marid will do, provided he proves uncooperative - which I expect him to do, of course."
After making preparations in Katheer, the party heads out into the desert in search of Zahra's camp and exploration site.
A multi-hued pavilion tent bristles against the wind as its unsecured flap whips wildly in the sandblasted desert. Ahead, a large white-washed causeway slants skyward toward a shattered citadel capped with a gleaming bronze dome. Behind the citadel, several minarets stretch their worn brass and bronze exteriors toward the sky. Even more impressive is the huge clay wall that encases the crumbling city of Koor. As the sun crest the horizon, the first unbearable rays of heat reflect off Koor’s long-baked earthen fortifications, staining them a blood red—an eerie sight, regardless of whether it’s a tribute to the fallen defenders of the once-great forge-city, or merely a trick of light.
A simple base camp rests outside Koor, flanking the road leading north to Omash. Two small supply tents, several crates, and one large pavilion tent comprise the staging point of Zahra’s Koor expedition. The two small supply tents hold all manner of surveying gear: ropes, plumb-bobs, stakes, and levels. The crates hold pickaxes, awls, hammers, chisels, crowbars, and shovels. The larger pavilion tent serves as a sleeping quarters, office, and meeting area.
Entering the largest tent, you find that rich carpets soften the earthen floor of this lavish pavilion, and time-weathered maps envelop a desk and table. Opposite the map-buried surfaces rest lavish pillows and a plush bed that beckon to road-weary travelers. Several crates stand stacked along the tent’s southern fold. Its northern flap contain an armor stand and two tables covered in equipment.
Several scrolls rest on the desk in plain sight under a simple bronze paperweight.
beneath the bed:
Today finds me in a wonderful mood, as I am once again in Koor. Something about its clay streets comforts me. I am quite busy planning my explorations. I have identified several promising locations and am confident I shall find the vault.
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Yesterday was very productive. I thoroughly searched several buildings, and discovered a few simple relics. But I am no closer to finding the Forbidden Furnace. Still, I quiver with excitement.
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What a brilliant day! I located the smelting house, and confirmed that the symbol from my research matches the markings etched on the building’s ruined walls.
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I saw it! It was only a flash of brilliant scales, but I am sure I had my first encounter with the legendary naga of Koor. I shall wake early and try to establish contact.
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Stupid day! I followed that ignorant beast into the vault, but it is as if it just vanished. Still, I made the initial penetration into the furnace. Blast this awful heat! I find the desert grating, and the stinging insects that assault me during the night are terrible. The furnace contained strange ethers, including a tangible blue mist—something about it was bizarre. I shall head back in the morning, and perhaps check other parts of the city for ingress into the vault. Surely the Forbidden Furnace has a back door.
Closer inspection of the armor reveals a depiction of a stern-looking priest forcing a marid into a lamp. In fact, this armor is engraved with the entire tale of the battle between Ahmad of the North and the Mad Marid. Intricate Keleshite script etched into the armor’s inner surface recounts the high priest’s victory in intricate detail.
When I, Ahmad of the North, looked at the six islands of the river laden I saw a fiend, and so, undaunted, I fought him fiercely. I attacked the Marid, striking with a flaming scythe, and fried the outsider to near death. Yet I knew the outsider count to not be undone. Righteously, I tossed the marid where he would be undetected for generations—let this not be undone.
WHen I, ahmad of the north, LookEd at the SIX ISlands of the river laden i SAw a FiEnd, AND SO, UNDaunted, I FOUght him fieRcely. i attacked the MArid, striking with a flaming scYthe, and FrIed the outsider to Near Death. Yet i knew the OUtsider count to not Be Undone. RIghteously, i tossED the marid where he would be UNDetEcted foR GeneRatiOns—let this not be UNDone.
WHILE SIX IS SAFE AND SOUND, FOUR MAY FIND YOU BURIED UNDERGROUND.
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"Look here, a mark on a map, a journal, and these ingot molds bear a mark; perhaps that of the local lord." Chjara picks up a journal and dusts it off. She reads a few entries.
"She looks for a vault, the Forbidden Furnace, that bears a certain mark; perhaps the mark of this mold. There is also a Naga in the area.
The talks of strange ethers in the furnace, a strange blue mist. She also searches for a 'back door'. It's the last entry, so perhaps she found it."
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Muriel steps into the tent and looks around, taking in everything. "This pavilion hasn't been inhabited for a month," she notes, somewhat surprised. She steps over to examine the scrolls on the desk. "These scrolls could prove useful to us. On is arcane eye, one is detect creature, and this one here is restoration."
She wanders around the room but notices nothing else of note.
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"Those scrolls could indeed be useful to us. I found this map with the smelting house circled, and Zahra's expedition journal. It reads:"
Today finds me in a wonderful mood, as I am once again in Koor. Something about its clay streets comforts me. I am quite busy planning my explorations. I have identified several promising locations and am confident I shall find the vault.
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Yesterday was very productive. I thoroughly searched several buildings, and discovered a few simple relics. But I am no closer to finding the Forbidden Furnace. Still, I quiver with excitement.
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What a brilliant day! I located the smelting house, and confirmed that the symbol from my research matches the markings etched on the building’s ruined walls.
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I saw it! It was only a flash of brilliant scales, but I am sure I had my first encounter with the legendary naga of Koor. I shall wake early and try to establish contact.
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Stupid day! I followed that ignorant beast into the vault, but it is as if it just vanished. Still, I made the initial penetration into the furnace. Blast this awful heat! I find the desert grating, and the stinging insects that assault me during the night are terrible. The furnace contained strange ethers, including a tangible blue mist—something about it was bizarre. I shall head back in the morning, and perhaps check other parts of the city for ingress into the vault. Surely the Forbidden Furnace has a back door.
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"Lots a nice info and stuff here.. Perhaps one of you arcane types should take arcane eye and locate creature.. The latter could prove very useful in finding this fellow.. Chjara you should hang onto the restoration.. If no one's gonna use this breastplate id like to pack it up as it has significant value to Qadiran.. We should definitely look into this smelting house.."
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"By all means, lead on Grimnir." says Shandor with a grin. He's currently wielding one of his magical rods in his left hand . As the Pathfinders delve into the ruins, his face traits change to become those of an elderly orc, vicious red eyes enceased in deep orbits, his thassilonian tattoos still visible and about to flare. Right before entering the ruins, Shandor briefly touches his sihedron medallion, only to find his health empowered.
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Flinders examines the armor. "Look here there is an inscription. It reads, 'WHen I, ahmad of the north, LookEd at the SIX ISlands of the river laden i SAw a FiEnd, AND SO, UNDaunted, I FOUght him fieRcely. i attacked the MArid, striking with a flaming scYthe, and FrIed the outsider to Near Death. Yet i knew the OUtsider count to not Be Undone. RIghteously, i tossED the marid where he would be UNDetEcted foR GeneRatiOns—let this not be UNDone." Thinking for a moment, he says. "I think it is coded messages, see the capital letters?...Let's see, hmm, yes I believe the code is 'WHILE SIX IS SAFE AND SOUND, FOUR MAY FIND YOU BURIED UNDERGROUND."
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Osric takes in the scene at the tent quietly, observing all of the details his allies reveal. He nods and grins at Grimnir as the mighty dwarf leads the way. To Flinders he says:
"It is well that there are six in our party, then! We'll just have to be ready to give that Marid the same treatment we gave those plants and demons in old Varisia, Flinders."
Osric will take the rearguard position, as his allies will not hinder his expert aim.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Travel to the smelting house circled on the map takes 30 minutes if traveling by foot from Zahra’s camp. When Zahra first uncovered and excavated the entrance, she marked it clearly not only on her map, but also on the paving stones of Koor’s streets, and a perimeter of brightly colored flags, roped off with surveyor’s string, now surrounds the smelting house. Inside, a secret passage stands open, its locking apparatus destroyed to prevent accidental closure.
Black iron girds the lower half of this grand hall’s walls, while a vibrant mosaic covers the upper half. The mural depicts a greedy man risking his life for a golden trinket. On the hall’s east wall, an ornamental door seems incomplete; its center is devoid of decorations in a six-foot-diameter circle. Flanking this door are six additional cast iron doors, three on the north wall and three on the south. On the chamber’s west wall, a steep staircase rises to meet the streets of Koor.
Closer inspection of the blank portion of the ornamental doors in the east wall reveals a circular recess that can hold six wedge-shaped mosaic pieces.
The mosaic that decorates the hall honors Torag, and consists of thousands of 2-square-inch tiles.
Grimnir notes one tile in the shape of a regular hexagon slightly protruding from the otherwise smooth wall on the left side of the chamber. Pressing on it sinks the tile three inches into the wall.
Indeed, the room is dark and Chjara sees nothing. The party does not notice any traps, though, and heads inside:
The room beyond is plated in cast iron. A clay shelf on the opposite side of the room of the door holds a mosaic piece. The tile is a 60-degree wedge that measures 3 feet from base to tip. The piece is forged from solid brass and adorned with Toragdan iconography.
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A tall, armored man wearing full Iomedean regalia appears at the entrance to the room. He motions for Osric, who comes closer. The two speak in hushed tones, the exchange growing more agitated. Osric speaks:
"I must bid you farewell friends. It seems a Pathfinder base that I helped secure earlier has fallen into enemy hands. I must go swiftly to join a rescue team. Oswin, a priest of the Inheritor, has been sent by Ollysta Zadrian to take my place."
