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As the jade knight falls, the spirits seem to flee back to where they came from. Grandfrogger pushes aside the cloying aura of evil, and a glow of golden energy wafts over Zithembe who quickly recovers consciousness.
Sleeping Sword steps up to avenge his fallen ally and pummels the graveknight, striking twice exactly in her weakest spots. Her eyes glaze over as she falls un-life-less to the floor. As she drops, Grandfrogger feels the weight of the sacrilegious aura fade away making it easier for him to heal now.
Haruguchi screams out, but he cannot reach her assailant because of the tangle of vines across his legs. That really annoys him, and the little one that did it to him is right … there!
His frustration knows no bounds, but he intends to fight on.
BOLD May Act
Map: The Lady and the Troops
Conditions: None
Buffs: bless, Weapon Song**, Escape Route
Maria
Soddy Daisy
Hepsubia
Zithembe
Lady Michiko
Sleeping Sword
Grandfrogger
Blue (aka Haruguchi)
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Cutting down the graveknight, Sleeping Sword looks into her eyes as the spark of corruption is extinguished. "When I let go of who I am" he tells the fallen samurai "I become what I might be."
The monk resumes a fighting stance. "Maria means that he battle is not won until the corruption is cleansed, Hepsubia. Destroying Lady Michiko's physical form is not enough to grant her the Final Sleep."
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Maria puts an arrow into a gap in the dullahan’s armor plating while Hep and Sleeping Sword banter. The ghostly apparition turns its non-head toward the chatter, and you can almost hear it sigh as it spots Zithembe picking up his sword and standing from where he had fallen.
BOLD May Act
Map: The Lady and the Troops
Conditions: None
Buffs: bless, Weapon Song**, Escape Route
Maria
Soddy Daisy
Hepsubia
Zithembe
Lady Michiko
Sleeping Sword
Grandfrogger
Blue (aka Haruguchi)
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Hep disarms the prone and apparently re-dead-ified Michiko. Soddy flings another seed pod at Haruguchi’s left knee, damaging and further stiffening the joint.
BOLD May Act
Map: The Lady and the Troops
Conditions: None
Buffs: bless, Weapon Song**, Escape Route
Maria
Soddy Daisy
Hepsubia
Zithembe
Lady Michiko
Sleeping Sword
Grandfrogger
Blue (aka Haruguchi)
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The damphir monk moves gracefully across the cold stone floor and swipes his katana - holy symbol of Shizuru that it is - straight into the dullahan’s armored form. As it comes out the other side, the unholy fire rising from Haruguchi’s neck sputters and dies out. Bereft of its animating force of will, the empty armor clatters to the ground in a crash.
And all is silent….
Zithembe
Maria
Soddy Daisy
Hepsubia
Sleeping Sword
Grandfrogger
Lady Michiko
Searching the remains of the Lady and her Troops, you find that her armor is a type of lamellar armor made of steel, but it seems very strangely arcane. Her katana is magical, but her naginata and wakizashi, though of the finest quality are not magical. The dullahans both carried magical longswords of Avistani style, and their full plate armor is also magical.
There’s also that strange rift of darkness swirling in the back corner of the room.
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Sleeping Sword flicks any remains of the accursed undead off his blade with a flourish. He sways and staggers in his combat stance, eyes half closed, and turns on his heels. In the moment of silence before the two elves begin their academic discourse, he falls to his knees and prays quietly.
"Empress of Heaven, I commend these lost souls to your mercy. Grant them the Final Sleep."
Standing over Lady Michiko, the monk sheathes his sword. "It is the source of the corruption. I sense it" he tells the elves. "Noble Zithembe, if you are well enough, speak the prayers of the ritual scroll. I will assist in any way I can."
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"Give me one moment," the shabti says. His copper metal eyes are dull, and his usually smooth and vibrant jade skin is paler and spider-webbed with fine cracks. However, he does only need a moment. In less than a minute, his vibrancy and vigor return.
He unfurls the scroll to examine what the ritual requires of them.
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Hep leans over the armor, and having seen something like this once before in her long elven years, she immediately recognizes the sorcery involved. This is graveknight plate. One day after a graveknight is destroyed, its armor begins to rebuild the undead horror’s body. This process takes about a week . If the body is again destroyed before the process is complete, the armor will simply restart the process anew. If the body is undisturbed for the whole time, the graveknight wakens fully healed.
So re-killing Michiko every few days will keep her from waking, but won’t destroy the armor. To do that, Hepsubia has heard that only complete and utter destruction - such as by such as by being disintegrated, taken to the Positive Energy Plane, or thrown into the heart of a volcano - will destroy the armor and end the graveknight’s existence. Since that’s way beyond what they were tasked to do, she thinks taking the armor to Venture Captain Bresnick to deal with is likely the best path.
As to how to get it back? Well, one could wear it. But she’s heard other rumors. Darkly horrific rumors that say since the armor is imbued with Michiko’s life force, anyone wearing it will eventually be absorbed by the armor and replaced with the original owner.
Meanwhile, Maria explains that the rift is one to the Negative Energy Plane. It looks like it was created as part of a necromantic ritual and that during its creation, a wave of energy erupted from this spot to engulf the original defenders. That’s likely how so many of them ended up as undead and trapped within the keep.
Zithembe takes his time to examine what the ritual requires. It certainly seems within this party’s ability, and he explains to them all how it will go:
Zitembe begins the process and his knowledge of ritualistic magic makes it seem easy as pie.
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Aha! Dirty trick, old girl, I like it!
Hepsubia points a finger accusingly at the now deceased Michiko, before speaking in ushered and hopefully spooky tones
This, my friends, is a Graveknight plate armor. It's a potent magical item, capable of bringing back to unlife any undead. You got to use extreme measures, like throwing it in a volcano, throwing it into the Positive plane-hey, or maybe the Heavens?-using a disintegration spell, to finally get rid of it. Takes a few days for the armor to re-create the original undead. Maybe we should put it in a box full of holy water? Don't know if that would slow down the processus. But it would be funny to try. A consecrate spell maybe? Does that even exist? I'm not sure. Healing spells maybe might damage the undead. But I like the idea of a box full of Holy water, with some little wheels on it to help move the box. Well, I guess any spell with "Holy" might help. Note for myself: "Holy sh*t" isn't a spell with verbal components.
A pause, to appear even more spooky
Ho, I'm not really sure of that last tidbit of information, but maybe wearing the armor would be a B. A. D bad idea, as the spirit of Michiko must be tied to it, and maybe, just maybe, there's a chance-or risk, depends of your point of view- that she possessed your own body. I'm perfectly fine with mine.
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"I have no doubts that a mobile casket filled with holy water would be effective, Hepsubia. If we could fashion such a thing. Otherwise I will simply carry the weight upon my shoulders, and trust that the Society has the means to destroy the accursed armour and grant Lady Michiko peace."
"Uhh, if positive energy will help seal the rift and purge the corruption, then I can contribute also."
Sleeping Sword offers further prayers whilst meditating on Michiko's holy symbol.
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Maria pulls out her little guidebook. Little being a ‘joke’ she usually uses way too often when calling the large tomes that.
”Alright, let’s kick this into gear. That ritual circle needs to have thinner lines, and a triangle here instead of a diamond. See the image shown here? Sharpening the chalk and redrawing will work.”
”And remember the pronunciation is always important. The tone, in this case, is actually the main part of the spell. If we had a bard… who am I kidding, Hep probably sang this tune before in a bar somewhere. Anyway, should be simple to close the rift. Just don’t smudge the marks.”
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Zithembe begins the ritual before Maria quickly steps in and bogarts the show; but, in a good way that ensures that everything is perfect and there’s no “accidental" negative energy discharges or widening of rifts to some plane of horrors. Everyone helps and the rift closes with a satisfying “squip” sound. Sleeping Sword hefts the necromantic armor, and the party heads out of the fortress-tomb the way they came in.
At the entrance, the first rays of the sun are peeking through the dawn fog outside. In the shadows of the stone steps, Sōchō Sumidagawa awaits. He addresses the party in Tien, but his attention is clearly on Sleeping Sword and the burden he (literally) shoulders.
”You have succeeded. And her Ittō-Hei have fallen also, I presume. Thank you.”
Rising from his deep bow of thanks, he asks ”Priest of our Empress of Heaven, will you walk with me into Her morning light and bless my passage?”
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"Sumidagawa-san" Sleeping Sword returns the bow, as far as he can whilst carrying the fallen General's armour.
"Shizuru-sama greets us." He speaks softly in Tien and lifts his face to the light. "It is time for our morning ritual. Join me." The old priest lays Michiko's armour on the ground with reverence.
"He has asked me to guide him home to the Light" Sleeping Sword turns to tell the pathfinders. "It is my duty, and my honour, to do so."
Kneeling down, Sleeping Sword produces a handful of items from robes and pack: a meditation crystal that refracts the sunlight, a clean cloth, an old but well-kept prayer book, and his simple wooden holy symbol.
The priest offers prayers on behalf of Sumidagawa, and invites the lost Sōchō to join him when he gives thanks to Lady Sun for the success of his divinely-willed quest. "May Lady Sun, in her infinite mercy, grant the Final Sleep to you, loyal servant."
When the prayers are done, Sleeping Sword gathers his possessions and the cursed lamellar and steps towards the dawn at Sumidagawa's side.
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Sleeping Sword’s holy duty fulfilled, you all return to Uscalin Lodge. The trek is made easier when a passing merchant offers you a ride in his wagon, remarking how Pathfinders have helped him out with security many times. He eyes the strange, burn-blasted armor but keeps his curiosity to himself.
You arrive at the lodge in the early evening to find Venture Captain Besnik still at his desk. He listens intently to your debrief, making notes about the numerous haunts and undead that you encountered. When (presumably Maria) is finally finished, he remarks excitedly about what a wonderful chronicle this will make once he’s heard back from his other teams, who are also investigating other passages from the tome.
“I knew you would triumph! Just goes to show I picked the right Pathfinders to seek out adventure while unknown dangers lurked. There could have been almost anything there! Go and rest while I put our report together for the Ten. Surely, this addition to the Chronicles will put Uscalin Lodge on the map.”
He hands out your payment and dismisses you to your free-of-charge rooms in the upper story of the Ace of Dreams, the combination local and legal gambling hall and Pathfinder lodge. As you all prepare to depart his office, he makes one last comment before putting his nose to his books.
“Though I may joke about the crusaders, they do play a vital part in the service of good. You, too, have done important work today. You have removed a pressing danger and helped the spirit of an ancient hero find rest. Well done, Pathfinders. I hope you are as proud of yourselves as I am of you.”
The city of Ardis was once the crown jewel of Ustalav’s royal courts, but since the seat of government moved to Caliphas, its glory has long since waned. The former metropolis now plays host to deluded nobles and peasants alike, all running through hazy imitations of a life decades gone, insisting they still matter and that their glory has yet to diminish.
The Pathfinder Society’s Master of Blades, Marcos Farabellus, rarely assigns missions himself. Rarer still do those orders come directly from the Decemvirate.
“You bold few are in for a journey,” the towering wall of a man states. He rubs his beard for a few moments, as if physically searching it for the right words. “There’s a problem in Ustalav. An embarrassing one. Most of you have probably met Vonran Vilk, the old man who used to work in the library. He was the Master of Blades well before my time; the man lived more stories than you or I have even read. A few months back he returned to his homeland of Ustalav to write his memoirs for the Society. Something happened along the way. Now, a serial killer stalks Vilk’s hometown of Ardis, killing off all his old enemies. Under the full moon. I think you get the drift.
“Look. I’m not going to blow you a lot of smoke. Vilk defined what it meant to be a good man in his day. More importantly, he’s still got secrets buried up in that geriatric head of his that the Decemvirate doesn’t want spilled on the cobblestones by some superstitious Ardisian’s silver ax. Even worse, Ustalav sees the Pathfinder Society as a band of mercenaries and grave robbers. If anyone finds out that as prominent a Pathfinder as Vilk stalks their streets and murders their nobles as the man they’re calling the ‘Midnight Mauler,’ that might be enough excuse to have the entire Society expelled from Ardis’s borders without any debate.
“Ideally, you are to stop the murders without killing Vilk. But if push comes to shove, access to all the history of Ustalav outweighs any one man. Stop Vilk, whatever it takes. Our man in Ardis will meet you at the docks.”
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It's been a long time I've been in Ustalav, but I remember the roads to the country. So you think Vilk might be a lycanthropic serial killer?Did he mention being bitten by a lycanthrope in an adventure? Do you think wererabbits exist? Surely if he was bitten by a weresomething in his younger years, while he was active, we would have known, he could have killed someone.
"That is my fear," Marcos says. "But I hope I'm wrong."
Ardis used to be the capital of Ustalav, a varied nation of dark forests, high mountains, and superstitious locals.
When the seat of government moved to Caliphas, Ardis’s glory and wealth steadily faded. Today, nobles with long lineages but little money or influence squabble endlessly, fighting to rise to positions in the courts that only they care about. Many estates and city blocks lie empty and crumbling.
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Maria knows some stuff, probably. But before that she pipes up, "While I appreciate that from your point of view, Vilk is an old man with infinite experience and stories. But from our point of view, he is quite a young fellow. Probably, unless he is an elf or another long lived individual. But that wouldn't match the timeframe posited."
She refocuses, "ANYWAY. I will concede he probably has more field experience than any of us. Though maybe not Hepsubia, who might be immortal. But she forgot most of what she has lived so it is what it is."
She refocuses AGAIN, "Alright, enough of my nattering. You seem to be implying that Vilk has been murdering people. If that is the case, we will end the threat to the public permanently if it presents a clear and present danger. If it does not, we will attempt to reasonably resolve the murders. Beyond that as always, we will protect the society's interests in the region."
"I hope that isn't the case, but the timing is coincidental," Marocs says. "Approach the investigation like Pathfinders. Your contact in Ardis will have more timely information."
Wild animals have moved into the abandoned parts of Ardis, and the common folk bar their doors at sunset to keep out the wild things.
Lycanthropes of all types shun silver, and silver weapons penetrate their unnaturally thick hides. The herb wolfsbane—also called aconite or monkshood—may cure a victim but is also poisonous and can kill a werewolf just as easily.
Only those born with lycanthropy spread the disease to their victims.
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A familiar face smiles at the elven scholars (and she regards Hep as a scholar, albeit an unconventional one whose wisdom may be the result of long experience and sometimes doing the wrong thing at the right time).
"Now wererabbits would be Totally Amazing! Keep your carrots safely packed!"
Effie embraces the elves. "Hepsubia! Maria! I've missed you both terribly. Are the rest of the gang in on this mission? How have you all been? I shall be glad of the long journey, it feels like we've got so much catching up to do!"
"I'm sorry to hear about Vilk's circumstances, Master Farabellus. I do have a good supply of silver bullets - well, cartridges anyway. But I hope they're not needed."
Effie leans in to Hep and whispers "I used to be a werewolf you know. But I'm alright now-oooooOOOOOW!"
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A "towering wall of a ..." tiger-demon-man bursts into the room and with a whooping laugh grabs Hep, Effie and Maria each in a huge hug as if he hadn't seen them in forever. But then, when you live completely in the moment and only for the joy of today, it likely has been "forever" to him. He notes the two new faces and introduces himself to them before suddenly turning somber. "Hey, where's Zithembe? He's okay, right? He didn't re-die or whatever while I was away?" When the others assure him that the jade paladin is fine, he relaxes. "Okay, good," he says a little embarrassed as he scratches behind his neck. "I mean, I know we kinda seem like we rub each other the wrong way sometimes, but he feels like a brother to me. Like an opposite-twin. I dunno. Anyway, you'll have to tell me all about your last missions on the way to this one. Ustalav, huh?"
"Werewolves? And wererabbits?" he says with a side-eye and chuckle at Effie. His tail begins swishing the air. "Are the locals gonna have an issue with a weretiger? I mean, that ain't what I am, o' course, but are they likely to think that anyway? And then go and do somethin' hazardous to my (and then their) health?"
"Either way, we find Vilk and put a stop to the killin'. Can he be cured, ya' think?" he asks Maria.
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We'll buy a few carrots, and cover them in silver, just in case we're attacked by wererabbits. I'm sure Maria can make something us in her laboratory. Maybe a chain or handcuffs in silver? Didn't we found some silversheen sometimes in our adventures? We'll get some. Maria will surely know everything about werewolves, and maybe even something about wererabbits too.
Of course, when Tyggger is back, Lil"Hep throw herself in his arms and hugs him and pets him and kiss him and squeeze him and call him George
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Maria accepts the hug and then allows the other two more access as she checks her notes.
I didn’t NOT miss the chaos of these three together. But it worked out ok so… into the fire again I guess. Hopefully calmer heads will be joining us soon.
Waiting a moment she replies to the many requests for information, ”Firstly regarding werewolves, they only transform under full moons, typically three days every month. Lycanthropes of all types shun silver, and silver weapons penetrate their unnaturally thick hides. The herb wolfsbane, also called aconite or monkshood, may cure a victim but is also poisonous and can kill a werewolf just as easily. And only those born with lycanthropy spread the disease to their victims. We will need to purchase some wolfsbane before we leave. I expect all of us have ways to deal silver damage. If not, then perhaps you should reconsider your weapon loadouts.”
She adds a few thoughts after all that sinks in, ”The locals are likely wary, especially with their wild animal issues. Staying out after night may be unwise. But also maybe necessary to catch our culprit. I don’t see a reason why anyone would react any different than normal to a person such as you, Holan-Ji. But then again, I doubt many have great reactions even in the most accepting places.”
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Soddy seems happy enough to greet the new (to her) faces that are Effie and Holan-Ji. "Hello! My name is Soddy Daisy. Tomorrow I might be someone else, but Soddy Daisy is who I am today."
After the briefing, she considers all of the information offered by her companions as well as by Marcos. "I know that time can play tricks on the memories of fleshys and make them forget things that they knew. Do you think that's happened to Vilk? Because it seems strange that this has been happening for months and he hasn't asked for help or tried to lock himself up before the full month."
"The quartermaster should have some available," the Master of Blades answers Hepsubia . He seems to take Soddy Daisy's question as rhetorical.
Once you have finished your provisioning, you board a ship to Cassomir. You take a long passage on a series of river barges until you reach Kerse on the Gulf of Accord. At Kerse, you board a ship to cross Lake Encarthan to Caliphas. A good ways to go yet, you take a shallow-keeled ship from Caliphas up the Avalon Bay and into the Raiteso River. You follow the river until you reach Satravah on Lake Raiteso in the Hungry Mountains. There you join a caravan crossing a pass in the mountains to Kavapesta on the eponymous lake. Here you catch your final river barge up the Vhatsuntide River to Ardis.
An excited young man strains for a view from behind a row of dull, bored, gray-clad observers on the docks of Ardis’s modest harbor. His face beams with equal parts excitement and relief as the gangplank drops.
“Well met, my brothers and sisters,” the young man says. “Thank you for coming so quickly! I am Ryado Erudyta.”
Despite his youth, Ryado approaches with a limp in his left leg. “I have a coach waiting to take us back to the safe house. We can speak more freely away from these crowds.”
The rented cab is small but well-appointed; after securing the luggage, Erudyta continues. “By now you must have heard of the unfortunate circumstances of Master Vilk’s, hmm, condition. I ran into him by chance six weeks ago at the library of a mutual friend. I was researching the Dracora family’s lineage, but that’s neither here nor there.”
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"Hiya' Soddy," Holan-Ji greets the little leshy lady. "You a carnivore, vega-vore like Maria and Jobu, or a little bit a both? I'm not tryin' to pry, but one o' the things I do is find the best places for the team to eat, and I gotta account for everyone's tastes."
It's then that he realizes that like Zithembe, the Grandfrogger too is missing. "What happened to jobu? He finally retire to a nice lily pad in the jungle somewhere? Dang, that crazy familiar o' his gonna drive him crazy," he finishes with a guffaw and a shake of his big head.
"Anyway, I won't be needin' any silver. These," he pauses for dramatic effect as he transforms his fingers into razor sharp claws, "work just fine 'gainst both fey and were's."
En route to Ardis, true to his word, Holan-Ji does indeed find the best street food markets, hole-in-the-wall locals-only places, and even one fancy place in Caliphas that normally requires reservations. But he somehow gets the team past the snooty maitre de simply on charm.
On the docks of Ardis, Holan-Ji lets Maria take the lead with Ryado as he's sure she'll have (many) questions for the young man. Meanwhile, he focuses on keeping an eye on the surroundings as he doesn't trust the locals not to cause problems for Pathfinders and were-tyggers.
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Maria is annoyed!
She was right in the middle of her recounting of the last mission. Page 35 of 70. It was just getting to the good part. Well, assigning good or bad to a section of writing wasn’t really ideal, it’s all just her recording the events.
The elf clips her journal shut and stands. All her teammates have already disembarked.
Well, they were in a hurry. It couldn’t have been that they wished to get away from my clinical retelling of our last mission. Must just really want to solve our next mystery.
She waits patiently until in the carriage, ”Is this a safe enough space to speak? If so, what further information do you have for us? Our venture captain advised you may know more.”
“Nothing happened precisely. I had an epiphany.” He glances out the window, peering at the long, orange shadows cast by the late afternoon sun. “To my shame, I didn’t put all the clues together until the most recent round of murders, but now I see it all… Vilk’s overland journey into Ustalav under cover of darkness, the low profile he maintains, and the identities of the seemingly random victims.” He shakes his head, showing more years than his rosy cheeks would suggest. “I wish I could stop him myself, but fighting a werewolf would’ve been well beyond my skills even before the ghouls got to me.” He knocks gently on his left leg.
“The full moon starts tonight, along with Vilk’s next round of murders. I beg you to cure our wayward master if at all possible. You’ll find curative magics scarce in Ardis, but I believe a powerful dose of wolfsbane may reverse his condition, should he survive it. There might even be enough humanity left in his bestial soul to reason with. The guards grow wise to the beast, and the locals are on edge as well—if the guards or an angry mob beat us to Vilk, the Society’s relationship to the Midnight Mauler will be exposed. We can’t let that happen. One way or another, Vilk’s rampage must end tonight.”