GM Infinity: Crypt of Everflame, Wizard Party [Completed!] (Inactive)

Game Master mishima

The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. Aftr a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.

Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. “Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself lef these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”

None expected their arrival, but the party was well aware the task ahead of them meant more than just the traditions of a small town...

Dot.

Dotty, dot, dot.

Is there anything we know about this town or ritual about retrieving the flame before we get here? Might a Knowledge check come in handy?

Yes, that was the major change I had in mind. Whereas the townsfolk have been treating this custom lightheartedly and as nothing more than tradition, from your cabal you know that there is something more at stake here...festival be damned there is an evil force here whose power extends beyond acceptable limits. A dark lord known as Asar poisons the leylines surrounding this geography. Your cabal, recognizing this interference, has brought together a small squad to deal with the encroaching power.

Dottage

The peeling of the bells pulls Og from his personal thoughts and requires him to focus on the mission at hand. What does he know of Kassen anyway. They seem to follow Erastil. No problem there. But this whole ritual of torch lighting makes little sense to him. Why not just strike a flame and be done with it? Fire is fire is fire, right?

Still this expected request for heroes gives him and his team a license to investigate. Og does not see any other groups stepping up, which fits well with their plan. He has no desire to have to win the right to enter the crypt. So, standing his full and considerable height, and with his curving black blade tucked securely into his haramaki Og steps forward. I shall go. Who is with me? His deep voice rumbles out of his well muscled chest and his greenish skin stands in contrast to those around him. He looks expectantly to those in his cabal.

William smiled at the all so familiar funeral attire, even if it was not such a joyful ceremony. Instead, it was simply the rituals of a town full old superstitions and fears.
the little Will knew was enough for him to get the gist of it all, at least what was known...

Will watched as Og, the brute of a mage, stood and proclaimed his interaction in the ages old ceremony. sighing, will raised his hand and muttered under his breath.

At least i get paid for this...

Hemiantus adjusts his traveling cloak as he approaches the assembled townsfolk, its many stains and repairs evident of many nights spent sleeping under the stars. A small, grey rat clambers up onto his shoulder from one of his many pockets, and look out across the town. Absentmindedly, he takes a nut from another pocket and hands it to the rodent, which happily consumes it.

The wizard waves in the general direction of the town. "It's the town of Kassen, my love, just like we have planned," he says to the rat.

At the half-orc's call, Hemiantus steps forward and taps him on the shoulder.

"We're all with you, Og, that's what we decided." he whispers to the tall half-orc. "Or were you planning on doing this all by yourself?"

Hemiantus nods at the necromancer's words, but turns away from the elf to see if anyone has noticed them and to judge their reactions.

Taking 10 on Perception and Sense Motive, so 19 and 12 respectively.

"Finding flames and bringing them back?! Of course I would love to go!" The townsfolk, dressed in their somber attire, drab and uninspired, look around confused.

"No no, silly humans, I am down here! I might be small but you will find no better expert on flame related activities... just look at my hair if you don't believe me, I almost look like a flame!" Finally looking down, they see the cheerful gnome. Nodding to the half orc and the elf, Medghar steps forward out of the crowd.

"Medghar's the name, burning is the game. The town needs a flame, flame can be tamed, and then nothing is the same!"

Seeing the serious looks of the townfolk, he taps his pistol and tips his hat. "Sorry if my ways are strange or offputting. I am just excited to finally see this flame of yours brought back. Sign me up, you won't regret it. Well, probably won't regret it anyway." The gnome's laugh almost borders on a cackle.

"Can't have a story without a Moral, and that is me, Moral by name if not nature. And I can hardly allow my heroes to set out without my inspirational terrible puns, and bargain basement repartee - nothing encourages a man to quest quickly like a companion who's glittering wit is so magnificent it will only be truly appreciated after his demise," A rakishly handsome young man says, moving forth with an overblown swagger, a small black goat trotting along at his side.

"And after all if you are to send forth someone, you really do not want to send someone who might prove useful about the place. As a self proclaimed comedian I am clearly the outstanding candidate when it comes to expendability!" Bezoar the goat rolls his eyes bleats sarcastically.

"Alright my Wizardly brethren, are we ready to expectorate in the face of danger, save the metaphorical hot damsel, and put her to cruel use warming up the community at large?" He says glancing to each of his friends in turn.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

He steps forward looking you all over, his mannerisms still reek of tradition and ritual "Who will carry the lantern?" he holds up a silver inlaid bullseye lantern, with a fire inside despite the daylight. The crowd goes silent.

These people call the place "Kassen" but in your studies you've learned it was actually "Kassen's Hold". Here Ekat Kassen repelled the attacks against his old companion Asar Vergas, the betrayer. Finally for the people of his hold Ekat took the fight to Asar in his makeshift crpyt stronghold. Both perished, and the flame memorial was made to honor Ekat and provide warmth to travelers in the wilderness.

3 months ago the cabal's diviners started sensing dark magics in the area. There is enough raw materials there for a small necromantic army, if suspicions are correct. But you may have your own suspicions...

Nearby are some pack mules loaded with various equipment snorting stupidly as the mayor's lantern swings back and forth in wait.

William investigates the mules.
why don't one of you hold it, perhaps the flame-happy gnome.

he rummages through the suplies and begins to organize them into even piles how many mules are there? small detail, give it to gnome-Mcflamehair there

And don't set yourself on fire

"Anyone want to play Torch Bearer? I could always carry it until we are out of sight of the Village and then hang it on Bez's pack? Like to have my hands free if there is trouble." Erald "says" wordlessly to his fellow practitioners.

Hemiantus points one of his long fingers at Og, Moral, and Medghar, indicating them to the mayor.

"They're the ones you want, sir. At least they're the ones who always compete to take the lead."

The rat on his shoulder nudges him a bit, trying to get his attention, but he holds up a hand, bidding her to wait.

"I'll ask him that in a minute, my love," he whispers to the rat.

Ass details: 5 mules, 5 double stuffed backpacks containing rations, a tent, winter blankets (the time is Autumn) waterskins, maps, rope, tinder and tindertwigs, potions, torches, grappling hooks and booze of some sort.

william pulls out the booze and sniffs it, then he dips his finger in and tastes it
appraise the booze: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20my bad, that's +5 not six... so it's 19

then he pockets a flask ;)
muttering something about the number five, he begins putting his own suplies onto one of the mules.

Oh where is the fun in that? Setting yourself on fire is a great way to test its temperature, and your reflexes. You must try it some time... but I understand that you might have reservations on controlling it. Understandable, perhaps I could assist you then? How does next time when you are sleeping sound? You will be all nice and relaxed and ready for the ensuing fun! Finishing the thought to William with the mental equivalent of a wink to ensure that he knows that he is ... probably... joking, Medghar saunters up to the elder.

"Why of course I have to be the one to take it! And my name is Medghar, Medghar Relagh, not Mcflamehair. They would be so lucky to have one even half as gifted in their family tree!"

Without waiting for approval or regard for ceremony, the gnome snatches the lantern from the man and proceeds to stare into its light. "Ohhh.... pretty..."

Hemiantus mentally scowls at the gnome.

Remember, Medghar, ever since that accident in the master's laboratory, Master Nightwing does not have much of a sense of humor when it comes to your pranks. Also, a bit more respect with the mayor. We want to stay on these people's good side.

Tastes like cheap brandy, distilled from god knows what wine...still, should warm your belly in the coming cold nights.

A bit stunned the mayor relinquishes "Hail, b-brave adventurers!" he sputters and the crowd claps awkwardly. "The supplies are yours for the 2 day journey...we've tucked a map away for you..." But you all are well aware of the path.

The mayor once again speaks to the townsfolk. “I present to you the brave heroes who will follow in Kassen’s footsteps to retrieve the Everflame! Some of them may not return, but I say to you that their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. Go, heroes, and do not return until you have the eternal fire.” With that, the mayor points to the south, the direction of Kassen’s tomb. The townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces.

Oh come now, you all know that I can mostly control fire just fine. And that incident was totally not my fault, as I have said before. How was I to know that his precious experiment would react that way to gunpowder residue on my clothes? Seriously, he should be thanking me for helping him out of there before he turned into a charcoalified fuddy-duddy instead being the living one he still is. Mentally sticking out his tongue to Hemiantus, he breaks his gaze from the flame finally and holds it out in front of him.

"This is a strong fire, small but brave. Take it to the memorial we shall, to let it burn bright but true!" He half bows to the elder.

Hemiantus raises a hand as if wanting to be called on in class. When he realizes that this might look a bit silly in the current context he walks up to the mayor and chats with him a bit.

"So this Everflame, can you tell us any more about it? Or the tomb for that matter. Or these Kassen and Asar fellows. We're not from around here, and do not have your local expertise."

The rat sits on the wizard's shoulder, quite interested in what the mayor might have to say. Its intelligent eyes glitter as it pauses momentarily to clean its grey-blue fur.

William relishes the thought of not all of them coming back... one person in particular...

what a cheerful display, i dear say, thank you.... you flee bitten cur... you would make a lovely corpse
Will nods ad the cheap booze. Hey, do you think this will burn well? he directs the thought to Medghar, a kind smile on his face but a sinister twist in his thoughts.

what lovely corpses you would all make... except for this mule... he thinks, eyeing the fifth mule.

More like it was meant to burn inside one's belly than outside, but sure, I could probably do improvisation with it. Medghar pulls out his pistol and holds it up to the lantern light, carefully not pointing it at anyone as he does so.

"Flame, meet my precious... darling, meet this flame we get to escort. Don't worry, little fire friend, we will take good care of you."

The mayor nods "Kassen and Asar were once part of a brotherhood who navigated and ultimately settled these lands. Asar had a dark heart and turned on Kassen...accusing him of stealing some amulet or some such. He sought to destroy this place, back when it was a Hold. Kassen valiantly rode out...walls be damned...and slayed Asar in the nearby crypt. But Kassen also suffered a mortal wound. There near his grave is the Everflame...its our custom here just before the last harvest each year to send out a group of young people to bring back the light."

This is vaguely ringing some bells, your cabal's diviners also seemed interested in any signs of an amulet within.

Knowing that Medghar introduces everything to his damn firearm, Hemiantus casually moves in front of the gnome, hoping that the mayor will not witness the worst of his depredations.

"Hmm, yes, that is quite interesting," he mumbles, "and this happened how long ago?"

"Yes, that was 200 years past. This part of the Fangwood was quite different back then you see, none of these modern marvels..." An old lady laughs and spits on the ground. The mayor goes on "...orcs from Belkzen...undead from Ustalav. Understand our Nirmathas was still a vassal of Cheliax at that time. Trade truly wasn't possible without Kassen's envoy."

William chuckles at the gnome. I get the bond between objects and their master, but that is just adorable my friend Will's message was obviously dipped in sarcasm. he then turns to the mayor, grave, you say... so he's buried under the flame? or is his body literally in the fire. will is highly interested in the fact that the mayor said crypt, grave, and hinted that there are dead things.
or did i not get that right? he thought

At William "Ah...no...the flame is truly just a memorial candelabra. Kassen lay undisturbed in his sarcophagus."

Putting up some maps shortly, of town and surroundings, etc

Hemiantus continues with the mayor, still trying to put himself between the man and the gnome. "And have the others who have accessed this tomb mentioned anything about where the Everflame might be located, or anything else about the location?"

Erald takes a female mule squatting so his eyes are level with its, "Hello there, let's try to get along hey? We've got a lot in common - people are calling me an Ass. I think I will call you... Hermione."

Leading Hermione on he calls, "Fear not people of Kassen, we are so good at getting hold of fire we sometime do it by accident! As I always say eyebrows are for cowards!"

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

"Of course, of course. Kassen's resting place is at the southern end of the second level, that's where you'll find the flame. It's a quiet nest in the Serpent Hills..." he shrugs "Not much trade that way. Suppose Arnara might know more, she's quite the woodswoman...or Holgast, he's the one who taught me its history."

Will pulled out his spellbook, a dirty book backed in a graying black binding. He skims the few spells he has and finds some of his personal notes.
so, these crypts, approximately how many are buried there? I imagine around a few thousand? ancestors and such. this is all educational of course. other than that, i would like to know of any recent deaths in the area, and if you know what caused them. I imagine there are a few natural deaths, just skip over those. i need to know if there are any strange beasts or so called "monsters" around.
will pulls out his quill and dips it in his invisible ink, waiting for an answer.

Oh, you know that the bond between myself and my darling here goes well further back than my studies. Why, my parents helped me assemble this lovely lady's first form when I was a mere 25 years old. Twenty-five! Most gnomes are barely writing by that age, and not proficiently let me tell you. But yes, she was a rough beauty even then... barrel fresh from the caster's forge, mechanisms roughly fitting into place.... It quickly becomes apparent that Medghar is going to tell you this story AGAIN now that you seemingly have triggered it. Furthermore, he seems to lose his sense of place while his is so occupied, gesturing with the pistol and walking absentmindedly toward the town elder, oblivious to him or Hemiantus.

This boring lets go! This bloke clearly loves the sound of his own voice, but such is the quiet tragedy of inbreeding. Come on we have mules, brandy, and adventure awaiting us! Erald smiles innocently, while Bezoar and Hermione eye each other dubiously.

Ignoring the more headstrong members of his party, the mage continues, "And this Arnara and Holgast, where might we find them?"

Its nice being part of a group where having a goat's shadow doesn't make me the weirdest one - not saying I am out of the running for the title mind you, I just have to marshall my foibles carefully to match against your esteemed bizarity.

"How many? Well, I...couldn't say...I suppose that's a fair estimate. Chaplain may have records."

To Hemiantus "As it happens, Arnara resides on the west side, Holgast in the eastern tower." 7 and 11 on map, respectively.

The mayor pauses a moment "Uh...ye all keep...animal friends like that?"

William give the mayor a blank stare. Okay, I'll go find this Chaplin... and ask him for you records...where is he?

William is trying hard to ignore the Gnome's story, but at the prattling goes on he slowly looses patience.
Hey, you know, when i was 25 i was learning the finer points of draconic writing. can you tell me how many different dialect of draconic there are. how about the wizard who first translated draconic script into an understandable form? if you can answer those then please continue your story!

William's frustration is obvious both on his face and in his thoughts

responding to the mayors question: no, i can't stand living things the words are filled with mallice

... and that is why I decided to lighten the strength it takes to pull the trigger back by half of a quarter of an ounce! The distracted gnome finally holsters his pistol, but gets the lantern way too close to the elder's robes for comfort, having walked around Hemiantus during his mental exposition and very nearly physically run into the elder.

"Oh, excuse me, I didn't notice that you walked up to me, is there some additional blessing you need to give my flame friend here?"

Erald raises a brow an incipient smile causing his lips to twitch, "Why of course, Bezoar is a very important part of my act known for his comedic timing..."

The black goat farts loudly while starring intently at the mayor, and then proceeds to empty his bowels.

"I'll grant you his humour is a tad unsophisticated."

Perform Comedy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Bezoar Aid: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (10) - 2 = 8

A little girl in the crowd exclaims with glee "Hah! He made that goat have a pooch!" Others snicker. Clearly perturbed, the mayor again takes up his public voice, sweating "...ahem...and so once again the brave fellows embarked on their journey..."

Hemiantus nods his thanks to the mayor and begins shooing his companions out of the town square as quickly as possible before the new "heroes" end up getting lynched by the townsfolk.

Intentionally speaking out loud once out of the main square, the half-elf talks to the others. "You know, we have to remember that scaring the normals is not a good thing. I'll go talk to his Holgast guy. Anyone want to come with me?"

"This is a strong fire, small but brave. Take it to the memorial we shall, to let it burn bright but true!" He half bows to the elder.

I believe the lantern is not yet lit. We are to go retrieve the flame after all.

He steps forward looking you all over, his mannerisms still reek of tradition and ritual "Who will carry the lantern?" he holds up a silver inlaid bullseye lantern, with a fire inside despite the daylight. The crowd goes silent.

Fire confirmed, ;)

Correct Og, the walls of the lantern are ruby colored glass that seems to glow from within in the Sun, from afar it appears lit.

edit: you additionally note a faint evocation aura

He steps forward looking you all over, his mannerisms still reek of tradition and ritual "Who will carry the lantern?" he holds up a silver inlaid bullseye lantern, with a fire inside despite the daylight. The crowd goes silent.

it has fire

i'm looking for this record keeper. much can be learned from the dead, especially if they where killed by something not native to the area.

William thinks for a moment, looking at the crowd. never-mind, I'm almost sure no-one has left this town in several weeks.

he then looks down at Erald's goat.
you... that was so... nice. I wonder who is cleaning that up...

Og spends a moment examining the gear and finds the cash of potions. Ho, what have we here?

Potions were mentioned...

More about the lantern: it is very ornate, something a priest might keep on display behind bars in a temple. Its silver frame is meant to resemble a verdant pastoral scene.

Og, the two vials are clearly labeled "Healing" and contain a clear, oily liquid with small copper colored flakes.

Someone in the crowd offers to help William "He meant Prasst there at the temple."