|
The party considers what to do with the slaves it has liberated.
After entering the museum, Myrd had checked the shadowy doors and discovered they were locked. On the other hand, he doesn't recall anyone attempting to open them.
Myrd has also realized there might be some connection between the mysterious runes tattooed on the foreheads of the slaves who've been here for weeks and the strange duality of planar existence within the museum, equal parts Plane of Shadow and Material Plane.
You all recall Hamaria Blakros mentioning some device that enabled the Onyx Alliance to bridge the gap between the Shadow Plane and this world. Who knows what might happen to the slaves--and to others for that matter--if you were able to disable or destroy the device? Could it free everyone and stop the Onyx Alliance from using it to continue their nefarious activities, while marooning some unfortunates to a tragic purgatory within the Plane of Shadow?
It seems clear that greater dangers await those who remain in the Museum. Can you accomplish your mission while simultaneously safeguarding the slaves?
Zavubak checks his Rolex. Probably a couple of hours till sunrise.
The matriarch of the Blakros family said you must complete your tasks before dawn. What do wish to do with the time remaining? The sands slip through the hourglass...
|
|
The terrified slaves follow you out of the filthy squalor of the Blakros latrines and Onyx Alliance slave cells and through the east exhibit hall and pain laboratory. Their eyes widen in shock at the mangled corpses and unconscious bodies of their erstwhile captors. They tremble in fright at the continued frenzied howling of the beast behind the northwest door.
You enter the corridor again, the sign over the door across the hall reading “Treasures of Distant Goka” in bright lettering, while a shadowy sign occupying the same space reads in dark, block letters “Cold Storage—Perishable Specimens Only.” As you pass by the door, the chilly draft emanating from the room courses shivers down the back of your neck.
The slaves are on the verge of panic, too scared to follow, too terror-stricken to remain in the pain laboratory. They hesitate for a moment then bolt back toward the beckoning dim lights in the entry and atrium. They pound on and rattle the door, unable to open it. Finally, they sink to the floor in huddled despair.
|
|
You stalk down the corridor, the baying of the shadowhound tolling like an ominous church bell, masking the sounds of your steps. At the end of the hallway you reach a high, closed door. The sign above it reads “Biological Oddities” in clear lettering, while a dark reflection of the same sign warns that the room beyond contains a “Ritual Chamber.”
|
Zavubak similarly waits for Ptehp's cue. "A ritual chamber? This may be where the sacrifices happen." He takes a drag on his latest cigarillo, a dust of ash coating his hand. "Let's hope we are not too late. I'm afraid there won't be any sort of welcoming committee beyond that door. At least, not in the sense one would hope."
|
|
The shadowhound's baying reverberating througout the museum, Ptehp opens the unlocked door to the room marked "Biological Oddities" and "Ritual Chamber."
Harsh, cold light floods this room from the ceiling, gleaming off the marble walls and shining across the polished granite floor. Myriad pedestals display stuffed creatures suffering from unspeakable deformities, and liquid-filled glass tanks hold the shriveled bodies of even stranger anomalies. In the room’s center, a wide ebony pyramid rises ten feet off the ground; darkness seems to flow out from its top into the air like ink in clear water. Indistinct rune circles, candelabras, and idols cover what can only be the site of barbaric sanguinary rites, occupying the same space in the Shadow Plane.
The Blakros Museum’s current main exhibit is a collection of medical oddities and cursed freaks—a disturbing array of deformities that would turn a Lamashtan’s stomach—but they do not compare to the horror of Wightir House’s comparable space. The implements of unspeakable rituals lie scattered about, including bloody sacrificial knives, vats of unidentifiable liquids, rune-etched stone idols, and a massive summoning circle surrounding the central dais.
Standing before the dais is the thin gray form of Uthil Mak, overseer of Wightir House and executor of the Penumbral Accords. Kneeling before him, the Blakros daughters, Eleanir and Michellia, sway in a sort of trance as Uthil Mak prepares for the ritual branding by coating a thin knife in a strange black liquid.
Gweld the White Owl
Myrd Sharpclaw
---
Uthil Mak
---
Ptehp
Honey
Tera
Zavubak
|
|
"I assume you are the one they call Uthil Mak? My name is Gweld, and I will be your executioner today!" Gweld proclaims pointing the sword at the fetchling, issuing a formal challenge to battle.
Feeling the magic coursing through his body, Gweld darts towards the enemy, putting the full power of the Northern Fury into the weighted swing.
|
|
Myrd casts haste on the party, and Gweld charges the fetchling.
In the umbral lighting caused by the confluence of the Shadow Plane with this world, Uthil Mak seems to blend into the shadows. Gweld's blade misses the creature.
"Welcome to our little ceremony. We can always use more slaves." A supremely confident Uthil Mak aims fist at the cavalier's jaw, a front kick to his kneecap, a side kick to his solar plexus, and uses his ki to finish with a back fist to the human's temple.
The fetchling is shocked that none of his own blows connect.
Gweld the White Owl
Myrd Sharpclaw
---
Uthil Mak
---
Ptehp
Honey
Tera
Zavubak
|
"Selket, help me free these prisoners!", Ptehp calls out with Fervor as he surges forward, using the effect of the Haste: "My thanks to thee, Myrd!"
Thanks to the added speed, Ptehp is able to get past one of the Blakros Daughters, in position to attack the enemy, while leaving space for the others to close in on him.
Ptehp calls out: "Eleanir, Michellia, we are here to free you! Snap out of your trance!"
Ptehp flips his whip back, and then brings it back down in one long sweeping blow, between the drugged prisoner and the dark pyramid, aiming to hit the Dark Enemy... crrrack!
____________
-
• Move action: w. Haste that is 2x20 ft. (moved 5 sq.)
• Standard action: attack
|
|
Zavubak swoops ahead with an unnatural speed. Whether the boon is provided by Myrd's spell or from his own herbal concoction is anyone's guess. Regardless, he steps up next to Mak and raises a bladed claw above the fletchling's head. "You there. Uthil Mak? Hmm... Different name, same fate."
He swings his claw across the shadowy creature's shoulder, aiming to rake a swath of flesh off his bones.
Despite his confidence, Zavubak finds he's distracted by the sisters' beauty, and misses.
|
|
Ptehp's scorpion whip lashes out, finding its target through the mob of his allies. Uthil Mak screams in pain and outrage.
Zavubak's claw swipes through umbral air, missing the fetchling.
Honey reaches out with her scythe, misses one ankle, but narrowly catches the other, upending the Onyx Alliance overseer.
Uthil Mak hits the floor, but he laughs like a playful, evil child. "I haven't had this much fun since I had my way with the last Blakros daughter. It's been too long, really." He licks his thin, stained lips. "Twins! Doesn't get any better than that, am I right?"
Gweld the White Owl
Myrd Sharpclaw
---
Uthil Mak
---
Ptehp
Honey
Tera
Zavubak
|
|
As Myrd enters the north exhibit hall and ritual chamber, disgusted by Uthil Mak's taunts, Gweld slashes twice with his long sword. The first blow was about to miss, when fickle fate failed the fetchling, both attacks strike true.
A look of concentration flashes across Uthil Mak face for a second, then he stands up, aiming an uppercut at Gweld's chin. "I like your pretty face, human. It makes such a beautiful canvas for my artistry."
Uthil Mak snarls, reassessing his tactics against these elusive foes.
Gweld the White Owl
Myrd Sharpclaw
---
Uthil Mak
---
Ptehp
Honey
Tera
Zavubak
|
|
Zavubak swings his claw against Uthil Mak's face.
"Uthil, you are as foolish as you are disgusting. You are outmatched and overpowered. Nonetheless, you refuse to surrender. For that reason, you must be taken down!" Like an angry cat, Zavubak recklessly claws at the fletchling, digging deep into Mak's chest and pulling the shadowy flesh in a neat strip off the bones.
|
|
Having defeated the Onyx Alliance overseer Uthil Mak, Ptehp and Myrd examine the Blakros twins, Eleanir and Michellia.
They remain in their dream-like trance, unresponsive and oblivious to anyone and anything around them. Myrd is convinced their condition is linked to the ongoing effects of the Wightir Conjunction.
You search the room and the body of the fetchling for clues.
Uthil Mak wears a prominent onyx ring on his left hand, which sports the same rune that appears on the branded slaves’ head. In his satchel, you locate a copy of the Penumbral Accords detailing the original agreement forged between the Blakros family and the agents of the Onyx Alliance.
The ceremonial dagger Uthil Mak was preparing for the ritual is long and dark, with a sinister curved blade. Runes have been etched along the length of the blade.
Myrd examines the corpse's gear, and he detects magic on a potion, his belt, bracers and cloak.
You investigate the Wightir Conjunction. The 10-foot tall black stone pyramid exudes an eerie black essence from its apex, which seeps into the air and slowly dims the illumination of the room. Surrounding the relic’s apex are a dozen bloodstones set into the rock face, from which a strong aura of conjuration and illusion emanates.
|
|
Gweld, who's been pacing across the hall back and forth twirling his blade, pumped by the combined effects of the hastening spell and the mutagen, finally gathers his wits and gets back to the group.
Just uncorking the potion is enough for anybody familiar with Alchemy to unmistakingly identify it as a Cure potion because of the very specific odor these potions usually carry. Gweld looks closer at the bottle. "Ah, the potion is very thick, see this precipitate on the vial? This curative potion is sure to be able to handle some Serious Wounds."
He shifts his attention on the black stone pyramid. "I think that destroying, or maybe just even removing the stones should end this shadow incursion. What do you think, Master Sharpclaw?"
|
"Wait a second, I have a scroll that will help me understand what these runes on the dagger mean" Myrd takes out a scroll and reads it
"These runes on the dagger speak of the Midnight Lord and a sacrifice that will bring shadow to the multiverse. The Midnight Lord is of course Zon-Kuthon, god of darkness, pain, and loss." He then goes on to examine the belt, bracers and belt. "I don't know what the bracers do, but the belt is a lesser belt of giant strenght and the cloak is a common cloak of resistance
Finally Myrd takes a look at the stones, he slowly nods "I agree master White Owl, we should destroy these stones. Although I have no idea what will happen with the prisoners if we do that. This fetchling wasn't carrying a key, was he?"
|
|
Gweld identifes the potion, then thumbs through the Penumbral Accords before placing the document in his rucksack.
Myrd identifies the belt and cloak and translates the runes etched on the dagger. Myrd also deduces a way to disable the Wightir Concordance, but he expresses concern that doing so now would have unknown, possibly dangerous, consequences for the rune-marked slaves.
Zavubak blows a little essence of the half-orc herb in the Blakros ladies entranced faces, but elicits the same non-response as roughly shaking them had done.
Ptehp is more than a little creeped out by the black pyramid, and he suggests leaving the twins with the rest of the freed slaves, then pressing on with the party's clearing of the museum.
|
|
After conferring with one another, the party remains focused on their primary mission, to rescue the Blakros daughters and to destroy the device enabling the Onyx Alliance to move between planes.
Ptehp and Gweld take the Blakros twins, Eleanir and Michellia, to the entryway and atrium. The other slaves look relieved to see the pair of Pathfinders and shocked to see the young ladies still alive. The two rune-marked slaves are as listless as ever.
|
|
Ptehp will grumble a bit, and wait to see if Gweld attempts to Disable the doors, casting Selket's Guidance on Gweld if he does do this.
If it comes to bashing the door, Ptehp will put his shoulder to it, also getting Selket's Guidance for this.
Finally, if all else fails, and they resort to breaking the door down, Ptehp starts slashing away with his whip.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
By rogue's hook and crook and by brawn's brash smash, the party eventually gets the door open. The freed slaves rush out into the pre-dawn foggy night, gaslights casting a glow on the cobblestone street. Even the two rune-marked men seem relieved, blinking and rubbing their eyes as the cobwebs in their mind are brushed away.
The two Blakros ladies snap out of their trance as soon as they exit the museum. They peer back over your shoulders into the shadowy interior, shaking after their ordeal.
Unrestrained anger mars Eleanir's beautiful voice, "Damn Mother and her diabolical pact with the Onyx Alliance and with those monsters!"
Michellia's pouty lips tremble, "We saw you slay Uthil Mak. Did you get his bomb-throwing sidekick, Mazzel Gol? She's worse than him."
As they regain their composure, some of their self-confidence returns as well. The young women insist on waiting for you to return before heading back to their estate. Three of the freed slaves, including the woman, remain with them, tending to their needs.
|
|
"It is great to see you awake and alive, Blakros twins," Zavubak smirks. "If there's someone else in there who was assisting Mak, we should get back in and track her down. I have a feeling that destroying the Conjunction first may stop us from reentering, although what do I know? That's just what the wind and fire tell me," he says as he puffs on another cigarillo.