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The Ace of Dreams, Vellumis, Lastwall
Your orders have sent you to Vellumis, the largest city and most important port in the crusader nation of Lastwall, on the shores of Lake Encarthan. The waterfront and city center boast impressive architecture, with many buildings marble- clad, domed, and colonnaded in the once-popular Chelish Old White style, characterized by whitewashed walls, ornately decorated eaves, and massive arched windows.
Though there are an exceptionally large number of soldiers, most wearing Iomedaean iconography, roaming the streets, most are civilians. Flags of a dozen nations, and churches of at least as many faiths, can be seen as you navigate the city streets, leaving the elegant city center and heading into a seedier neighborhood that greatly resembles the dockside areas of Absalom.
When you arrive at the address you were provided, you discover a busy gambling hall. Raucous conversation fills the room, as men and women gather around a number of tables, playing various card and dice games. One of the bartenders notices you enter.
”Here for the Venture-Captain? He’s running a little bit late, but you can go ahead and wait in the office. Just through the door in the back.”
As you weave through the crowd, you catch glimpses of some of the players in action. A crowd has gathered around one table, where a tall woman, whose fine features indicate both elven and Garundi heritage, commands their attention. Her finely made grey silk robes are embroidered with silver spiral patterns, standing out against the simpler, warmer outfits favored by most patrons.
She rolls a handful of dice across the felted table.
The crowd cheers, and a stack of chips slides her way.
The door at the back leads to an office. Though the room is decently sized, a broad mahogany desk, piled high with books and papers, commands much of the far side of the room. The majority of the open space has been claimed by a hodgepodge of mismatched yet comfortable chairs, all positioned to face the desk. Over the next few minutes, several others arrive in the office as well.
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A man of rigid posture walks in. He stands tall, a hand over six feet. His armor is meticulously cleaned to a shine. Across his back rests a shield of mithral, plated with the symbol of The Inheritor. A silver hood is pulled over his head, but it does little to obscure his features. The man's eyes are white - entirely white - lacking in iris and pupil. He speaks few words but they are kind in choice and strong in timbre. At his side is a magnificent longsword with a hilt of electrum and steel. Words in the celestial tongue run down the length of the scabbard, reading "Daybringer."
"Hail and well met good friends." He accentuates the greeting with a fierce grasping of your forearms. "May we find glory in our mission. I am Jorciel, Warder of Iomedae."
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Horacio enters, of similar stance to Jorciel with an equally impressive mithral shield and a holy symbol of Iomedae but clearly lacking the well toned muscles that Jorciel shows off so well.
He has that certain air about him and is clearly touched by the upper plains.
"I am known as Horacio, the Purifier."
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"It is my pleasure to meet you both." His bow to the Purifier is in an old style.
He looks about, nodding in thanks to the self appointed watch here, "I hope our mission takes us elsewhere, for while I am adept at catching cheats, it's not why I heeded the Call."
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Antonella smiles. “May I ask what you made of the well-dressed Garundi-elf in the gambling pit, Ser?”
"As of this moment, I make nothing of her yet. While the Inheritor grants me power over reading a person, I find that such invasion is not to be done lightly and wihout cause.... Still, but flawed mortal perception tells me that sh'es a force to be reckoned with, and may have something to do with our future."
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A tall, thin Garundi male, clad in a simple, loose-fitting mail shirt, with an ancient-looking bow crafted of a dark wood which seems to drink the light strapped across his back, strides up to the others.
"This one apologises for his lateness; this far north, it takes longer to commune with the Spirits..."
He then bows.
"This one is Amenhotep of Wati, and he has the honor of being the chosen vessel of General Akhentepi in this age."
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The Garundi half-elf gives Amenhotep a slight nod as he passes by.
Observing the assorted gamblers, drinkers, and other patrons, Sparky gets the distinct impression that profit is not the owner's primary motive. The bartenders pour strong drinks for the regulars at the bar, rather than using them to loosen the pursestrings.
He also notices a long-haired Varisian man weaving his way through the crowd, stopping every now and then to greet a customer, whisper something to a dealer, or throw a couple chips down on a table, before making his way to the office where you've gathered.
"Welcome, everyone! I'm Shevar Besnik, the Venture-Captain for this lovely little establishment." he says as he gets behind the desk, and begins moving books around on his desk, checking under sheafs of documents, and opening drawers.
"Bear with me just a moment. I know it's here. I was looking at it just before you got here.
His face breaks into a grin as he uncovers a solid oak box. As if to punctuate the discovery, a crowd in the gambling hall erupts in cheers.
Distracted for a moment, Besnik stares at the closed office door that leads to the common room. “Desna laughs. Well, she laughs at me, but she smiles on them.”
The venture-captain shrugs. “All they have is gold; what I have in here is far more valuable.
Besnik opens the box’s lid painstakingly slowly, careful to keep the contents out of sight. With reverence, he lifts a large tome from the box and gently sets it on the table. A large image of Aroden's holy symbol, a winged eye, is embossed in gold on the cover.
“Careful, the binding hasn’t held up well. This is one of the few Tomes of Righteous Repose left in the world. I’m pretty sure there’s one in the library of the Sancta Iomedaea in Vigil, but I’m—well, let’s just say I’m no longer welcome there. That’s a story for another time." he adds with a faint smile.
“Up until today, I’ve only skimmed the pages. I didn’t want to damage it, but now that you’re here, I can’t wait any longer. Care to plumb the depths of this most ancient and wonderful storybook?"
Oh, the marvelous adventures we will soon read! This tome is a collection of tales describing how various crusaders died gloriously and honorably. I’m hoping to find some clues in the text that will lead us to an as-of-yet undiscovered site or relic. Maybe we can trade a bit of what we find with the Knights of Ozem and earn ourselves some goodwill. After what happened last time, we need it.
“Care to peruse the pages with me?”
I'd also take any literature-related Craft or Profession (like Librarian). An image of the VC is available through the link early in the post.
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Shelby entered the room after Besnik and closed the door.
He perks up at the mention of something more valuable then gold but is disappointed that it is a bible of some sort.
"So you believe the book to contain clues to buried treasures? If so and it is as rare as you say some of them may still be there to be found. I imagine you want us to find them and share the profits with you."
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The gnome poet Rellakarabee is virtually unknown outside of academic literary circles, but Amenhotep (or the spirits he confers with) is well read. His works focus on heroic figures and tragic deaths, but his melodramatic style prevents him from earning widespread acclaim.
Fustbickle's poems tell stories of the Shining Crusade, though historians debate how much is historically accurate, and how much is poetic license. Rumors suggest he may have been on speaking terms with Iomedae while she was still mortal.
Jorciel and Antonella are both very familiar with the history of Lastwall, unsurprising given their background.
Lastwall was established in 3828 AR, when it seceded from Taldor by mutual agreement. It is a military dictatorship, primary focused on keeping the Whispering Tyrant locked away and the orc hordes of Belkzen at bay.
The founders of the nation were the remnants of the Shining Crusade, which locked the lich-king Tar Baphon in Gallowspire. At the time they were primarily Arodenite, with the mortal Iomedae amongst the crusaders. Her worship has become dominant since.
Lately, Lastwall has had to recruit less pious individuals to fill its ranks, as many Inner Sea nations are more focused on domestic concerns, or devote their resources to the Mendevian crusades. On Lastwall's borders, followers of Gorum and Kurgess are more common than paladins of Iomedae and Sarenrae.
Besnik responds to Sparky,
"I'm not sure treasures will come in the form of gold and silver, but I imagine there's much of historical significance on the battlefields of the Shining Crusade. Something we can donate to the knights in Vigil would earn us much more in influence than we could get in mere coin."
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Into the gambling hall enters a fairly short humanoid of skin tones in dark browns and greys. He is muscular almost to the point of deformity, yet still walks with more grace than one might expect. He wears very little: a large loincloth, and a backpack, which leaves most of his flesh exposed. Glints of light reflect off of patches of skin that appear like mica, and other swaths of his body--particularly his fists--have a hardness that is visible.
He flips a coin to the bartender, and in deep, heavily accented Taldane he says Dwarven spirits. He downs the shot quickly and with only a brief nod of thanks to the barkeep.
He enters the office, looks at each of the present adventurers in turn, and bows with respect, right fist in left palm held chest-high. In his deep voice, in somewhat broken Taldane, he speaks. Greetings Pathfinders. I am Bodta Kostunica, representing Grand Lodge and Lucridious Clan. I look forward to adventuring for Society with you.
Without further preamble, he pulls out a wand. Any of you capable of using wand of Mage Armor willing to hold for me, and use for me?
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As the more well-read of the group checks out the book, the Oread simply watches with little expression.
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The paladin looks about, nodding to Bodta. He listens to his more loquacious comrades, and like the priest, holds his tongue for the moment.
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Besnik does his best to answer Antonella's questions, "Oh, she's just another Pathfinder passing through. On her way to the Pharasmins up in Kavapesta. Had a creepy companion with her for a while, but she sent him away. Customers don't like having psychopomps reminding them of their mortality while they're trying to play."
"The text isn't magical, so I don't expect it to transport us anywhere. Except in the metaphorical sense any worthwhile literature does. I don't think you'll need any shopping immediately."
"And I'm not sure what the relevant passages will be. Maybe you'll see something I don't."
He dons gloves, then gingerly lifts the book out of the box. He lets it fall open naturally. It opens to an image of three women in Tian armor, with lines of text on the facing page.
The Venture-Captain jolts upright. “Minkaian art! Let’s see, the Minkai Empire was founded in 3619, and the empire’s first explorers didn’t reach the west coast of the continent until at least 3691 AR, which leaves only sixty years before the beginning of the Shining Crusade itself. These women could have been among the first Minkai citizens to reach the Inner Sea! Let’s see, what secrets does the poem on this page hold?”
He then recites the poem,
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Anontella and Jorciel have both seen that particular depiction of the sun before in other Tien religious art, but can't remember its particular significance.
Sparky and Amenhotep sidle up to the bar alongside a Kellid, dressed in battered full plate. An sword jutting from a mountain is carved into the breastplate. He claps Amenhotep on the shoulder with a surprising amount of force.
"Come, you two! Have a drink with me! You're looking at the newest commander of Hammer Rock. I'm buyin' anything you want, as long as it's whiskey!"
Meanwhile, Horacio manges to meet a pair of Iomedaeans, both expressing their concerns over strong black coffee.
"Did you hear about the crisis in Arwyll Stead? I heard a group of diabolists tried to take over the town. I can' believe the Watcher-Lord didn't send a battalion in!" says the first.
"I heard it was just an orc raid, and some passing travelers took care of it. But recruitment fell short again this year. If they take too many men off the front lines to deal with internal issues, the whole border might collapse."
While you mingle, Besnik calls the Garundi woman into his office. A short while later, he'll call you back in. The pair stand behind the desk, a large map of Lastwall rolled out across its surface.
"Thanks to Suheyla's assistance here, I think we've narrowed down a location for you to explore. We can't find any record of a place named Mordesha, but there is a site called Yua's Fingers. There's a series of standing stones in an empty field. Local reports suggest it might be tainted Druidic site, and roads seem to avoid the area. It's fifty miles travel from here."
The half-elf interjects, barely more than a whisper. "Actually it's only forty-six miles."
Besnik catches himself mid eye-roll. "Yes. Anyway, I'd like you to check that site out. Maybe there will be something of interest there. I've got a couple things that might help you out."
He rummages around desk drawers, recovering two wands and a 12-inch iron bar lined with small plates and spikes.
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Amenhotep nods to Sparky.
"Many of those who pass on to Pharasma's judgement leave an echo of themselves behind, allowing those who are sensitive to such things to contact them, and seek their wisdom, potentially aiding the supplicant with their problems."
He then gives a self-deprecating smile.
"This one is one such lucky individual."
Amenhotep frowns.
"A tainted Druidic site? That is troubling. The Spirits will undoubtedly be distressed in such an area..."
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"Indeed I can use such a scroll. Fear not, we will overcome all that befalls us. A site tainted by malfeasance is sure to bring foes and obstacles, but we righteous will overcome whatever comes our way."
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"Indeed I can use such a scroll. Fear not, we will overcome all that befalls us. A site tainted by malfeasance is sure to bring foes and obstacles, but we righteous will overcome whatever comes our way."
Bodta is stoic throughout the exchange, simply looking from speaker to speaker. It's tough to tell whether he's fully engaged in the conversation's meaning.
At Jorciel's proclamation, he takes a deep breath, then gives a low grunt of assent, with a sharp nod of his head.
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Besnik is also able to provide you with two pieces of +1 Holy Ammunition, and the wand of Cure Serious has a total of 7 charges.
The journey to Yua's Fingers takes about three days. The journey requires an extensive trek through the woods, leaving the major roads. You arrive during a thunderstorm to find a muddy field with pillars of blackened stone reaching to the sky like skeletal fingers.
Closer examination reveals that these are in fact chimneys, the last remnants of long-forgotten houses. Near one, a staircase descends 100 feet into darkness.
A cavernous chamber reaches east and west, and several smaller corridors branch outward from it. Dust and neglect mark this chamber, and darkness fills its corners. To the east lies a single stone sarcophagus. A long passage of text is carved into the wall behind the sarcophagus.
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Looking down the deep stairwell Horacio gives himself Iomedae's protective blessing and will share a blessing with one of his companions.
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Once down Horacio boldly strides into the middle of the room, his mithral shield gleaming in any of the party's light sources.
Once there he turns to his companions and waves them forward, "Come, let us show the darkness we are not afraid."
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Joriel gives a quick prayer to Iomedae, and heads down. His angelically enhanced vision helps, but he knows it's going to take more than that to make the party comfortable.
"It is my custom to always go left first, but I will defer to a tactical expert. First, however, let us examine this sarcophagus." Jorciel will concentrate, looking for evil auras about the thing before offering anyone else a look before opening it.