Mikhail contends with the evil effect that holds Xamanthe in its grip, but the centaur princess remains rigid as a statue.
STATUS
Kernithar - 102/102 hp, Enfeebled 1
Mikhail - 112/112 hp
Aristu - 72/72 hp, Clumsy 1
Alister - 96/96 hp
Piotr - 80/80 hp
Xamanthe - 40/40 hp, paralyzed
Alister rises wincing and tugging at his neck. "Not exactly restful dreams. But I'm reminded of a vision I had in the First World. I saw images of what I think were the empries and realms who have tried to hold the Greenbelt over time. I saw the Queen of Roses in her attempt to hold the land. But even before that, I saw a powerful cyclops lording over a vast empire of cyclopes. I believe this is what is left of their magic and their empire. Whatever it was, it was mighty in its time."
He looks over to where Mikhail was attempting to free Xamanthe. "We can keep trying, but we need to be brining her back to her people. Her mother will be worried and as a parent, I will not keep her child from her. Let's fashion a litter to carry her. However long it takes, we'll get her back home."
"I fear that she will starve to death or die of thirst before we get there. It seems like this is going to resist my ability to save her. Does anyone have an idea for how we might keep her alive without her sustaining herself with food and water?" Mikhail asks his companions.
"I will be sure to find foods suitable for her to consume in her current state." Kern assures the party as he sets out to forage for breakfast. "We can save the drippings of an animal to make a broth for her."
"I will also use some of my druidic magics to guide your next attempt, but it may be good to have a more powerful mage aid you directly." He states, returning with some berries, nuts and tea leaves.
"All the more reason to get her home quickly. Maybe we even send a runner ahead when we get closer." He glances at Kern. "Their tribe may have more powerful healers who can remove this curse."
"Makes sense. I can cover much more ground alone." Kern replies. "If you can care for her without issue, I will return with help within a couple of days.
"Gentlemen," declares Piotr. "I can also take us to the edge of the Shadow Plane to greatly speed our journey. Of course, there are some dangers in travelling those routes."
Piotr pauses before continuing.
"Would you prefer to take that route?," he asks. "Or stay in this plane?"
"My back hurts already. I say we go the fastest way that keeps us all together." Mikhail suggests.
"Which would be the Shadow Plane." He turns to Piotr. "How does that work again? And what kinds of dangers exist there?"
"Kayals may present some danger but can often be reasoned with. Anything else is likely to be hostile toward us." Kern says, he gestures to Xamanthe. "She will be most vulnerable. Any predator will immediate recognize this. What magics do we have to aid in protecting her?"
I find it hard to believe that Mikhail is going to carry a centaur for miles and miles. How will you transport Xamanthe, even at the speeds allowed by the Shadow Plane?
The team builds a travois out of sturdy birch saplings and Kern binds them together and stitches on a pair of blankets with thick leather thongs.
Piotr, chanting, causes a shadowy mist to rise all around you. The sun fades to a small, bleak point, then disappears altogether, leaving you swathed in thick shadows. The world is dimly lit in all directions by some indistinct source, leaving objects and people heavy with dark shadows.
A weird jagged landscape of toothy mountains and yawning crevasses spreads around you. Navigation here is difficult, for the sky gives you no sense of direction and all things are clothed in a dull, monochromatic sameness.
Kern instinctually knows the direction they should head. Something dark inside him stirs and steers him toward their destination.
Looking sterner faced than usual, Kern turns to the others with a hushed whisper.
"Follow..."
Kern estimates that the journey from the mysterious cyclops caverns to the Nomen encampment would take him a day and a half. Together with the whole team, it would take three days. Dragging a travois, the journey might be three times as long. Nine days, then. Piotr tells him that traveling through the Shadow Plane, this journey should take no more than four hours.
The shadowy landscape is drenched in darkness, the mountains a mere unseen presence, felt like some looming predator on a dark night. The team shuffles on their footsteps and labored breathing the only sound, and those sounds die away quickly, as if of loneliness. Trudging through dead and twisted thorn thickets, over tiny rippling streams and across sheer and terrifying ridges, the heroes are lost in a vast landscape of depressing darkness.
Without warning, something cracks at Kern's feet. It is a heavy black crossbow quarrel buried three inches into the dusty ground.
"Hands up," comes a voice in thickly accented Taldane. "Nobody move."
A dim light, furiously bright in this place, blazes forth on a shoulder of rock twenty yards ahead and ten feet above, showing a gray woman of middling years. She bears a ebony wand in her hand. Next to her a powerfully-built youth, equally gray, is reloading a crossbow.
"Who are you," asks the gray woman. "And what business have you in Lord Ulatharix's realm?"
"I am Alister Medyved, Baron of the Sword Marches. I give my humble apologies to Lord Ulatharix for our intrusion. However, we are simply passing through and we would be grateful for your permission to travel in his realm. We wish no conflict." Alister bows his head towards the woman.
Kern freezes but remains silent, letting Alister do the talking. He sizes up the two while they converse.
As the youth finishes reloading his crossbow, the woman speaks. "Ulatharix is not called The Reaper for his pleasant disposition, Your Grace. The blasted remains of a dozen towns speak to the fate of those who displease him. We are but his loyal slaves and the survivors of his wrath."
"Though our master knows no mercy, he is willing to be appeased by tribute. You are well-accoutered and thus wealthy while many of Ulatharix's slaves go hungry. On behalf of our master we will accept a tribute of five gold coins. Each."
Piotr prepares to end his spell and pull himself and his companions from this relam short of their destination.
Alister considers the woman for a moment. "A fair price, I believe. If we pay this fare, we would be granted safe passage through the lands by his Lordship? Do you speak on his behalf?"
You've never heard of Ulatharix, but you recognize these people as Fetchlings, a dusky race of the shadow plane supposedly descended from the humans of Golarion.
"I speak as his slave. Your toll will mean you are unmolested by me and mine. Mighty Ulatharix will do as he pleases. When you reach the plains to the east you will no longer be near my people, but you will still be in Ulatharix's realm."
"Four more. Hidden." Kern says under his breath to the group. He tenses for conflict but continues to let Alister and the others do the talking.
Alister nods to the others, then looks back at the woman. "We will pay your tribute. Though, I would like to know the name of who I am paying and who has benefited her Lord's people." He pulls out five gold coins and jingles them in his hand.
Piotr remains silent, ready to end the spell and pull his companions back to the Material world.
Kern laconically states "I don't have that coin."
"I am called Maralaika and this is my son Carador. We are the wardens of the mountain passes."
Piotr digs through his purse, picking out the coins until he has the required amount.
"Who are the others?" Kern asks casually. "If we're paying coin, could we at least meet all of you?"
"This is a toll, not a social get-together," says Maralaika. "I've no intention of removing my people from cover. Are you paying or not?"
Aristu reaches into a belt pouch and pulls out 3 platinum dragons. He approaches Maralaika and hands the coins to her. "Here you go, this should cover all of us."
Alister holds up his hands. "Easy. We are paying. Here you go." He begins to collect coin from the group until his brother steps up to pay for them all. "Now, may we be allowed to continue on? How much further is there to your territory?"
"Leave it there on the ground and you may depart," says Maralaika. "We are wardens of the mountain passes. You will reach the grasslands in a few hours. I have heard that travel is slow in your world. It is not so here."
Aristu stops his approach. "OK, sure." He crouches and sets the coins on the ground. He stands up slowly, holding his empty palms out, then takes two steps back. "Can we expect to meet more wardens on the grasslands?"
"I think not. But Ulatharix hunts there often. You would do well to move swiftly."
"We will move as fast as we can given our load" Kern says, gesturing toward the frozen centaur.
Mikhail takes up his load and begins moving again.
You soon move out of the mountains. It feels as though you're just walking, but the terrain seems to change rapidly, always half-hidden in shadow. Soon you are traversing a wide savannah of dried grass and ash-colored trees. Deep pools of shadow lay inky black beneath these and you instinctively stay away from them. A few hours later, Kern believes you have arrived at your destination, though all you see is twisted gray grass and shadowy boulders.
"Kern," says Piotr with a hint of the fatigue from maintaining the spell. "If you are sure that this is the correct location, I can return us to the material plane."
Piotr waits for confirmation before ending the spell.
Kern says he is sure and Piotr speaks the words to return the group to Golarion. You find yourself on the windswept plains of the Dunsward, the sea of golden grass extending to the horizon in all directions except west, where the Tors of Levenies can be seen as a distant smudge on the horizon. Uncertain at first where you are, you soon spot a column of smoke indicating the presence of a large camp about a mile away.
You drag the wooden travois with Xamanthe on it into the camp and are soon surrounded by two dozen scowling and warlike centaurs asking angry questions.
"What did you do to her?"
"If she's dead, you'll pay for this!"
"Xamanthe's been hurt! The two-legs have her!"
Into this chaos walks Aecorra Silverfire, Xamanthe's mother and chief of the Nomen centaurs. She gasps when she sees her daughter laying on the frame of dirty birch trees and ragged blankets. Aecorra moves swiftly to Xamanthe's side and grasps her hand. She looks at you.
"What's wrong with her?" she asks, equal parts fear and anger in her voice.
"We were exploring a cavern in the mountains that appeared to have the remains of the Cyclopes empire. In the cavern we found a strange monster in a room that we defeated when it insisted on attacking us. Beyond the creature, Xamanthe was being held in some mystical paralysis. I have tried to remove it, but my powers were not strong enough to remove what holds her. So we traveled as swiftly as possible to here to return her to you in case you might have stronger clerics who can remove what ails her. If not, I will continue to try. But it may take some time before I am able to remove her paralysis." Mikhail says.
The instant Mikhail mentions the Cyclops cave, the hubbub around you stops. It's as quiet as a held breath.
Aecorra looks at you strangely and turns to her warriors. "Take Xamanthe to my tent. Then leave us!" The entire tribe moves away, whispering among themselves.
Aecorra regards you again, her face unreadable. "Walk with me," she says. And so you begin another walk back out onto the sea of grass. The centaur leader is silent until you are more than a mile away from camp. She continues to talk as she walks.
"Thank you for bringing me my daughter. She is willful and has much to prove. She broke our most sacred law, but I suppose she has already suffered for that foolish choice."
She continues walking and is silent for a time.
"We call the place you mention Olah-Kakanket. It means The Valley of the Dead. It is taboo, forbidden to all. Yet it is our most ancient tradition that we must watch over Olah-Kakanket to see that no evil arises from it."
"It is said that an ancient god slumbers there. 'Vordakai the Destroyer' he is called. Once he was god-emperor of the wide lands to the east, and now he slumbers in Olah-Kakanket. Our watch ceased on that place when the human army of Taldor drove drove our ancestors east. Yet I have brought the Nomen back into these lands to resume our ancient watch."
"Recently, Xamanthe came to me. She said she had seen a strange and frightful shape amid the stones of Olah-Kakanket. We wondered if you humans with your endless drive to explore, had found and disturbed what lies in the Valley of Death. I forbade her to go back, but she disobeyed me."
"If you ask me, that is the answer to your mystery. The people of Varnhold were taken away mysteriously and Xamanthe too? Strange shapes out of legend arise to threaten us all. My heart tells me your people will be found in Olah-Kakanket if they are anywhere."
Alister walks closely with Aecorra. "I was very alarmed when we found Xamanthe. I still am, though I hope now you can help her. We risked the Shadow Plane to return her to you safely." He listens to her explanation about Olah-Kakanket, raising an eyebrow when she mentions 'Vordakai.'
"I have heard of this name 'Vordakai' before. I believe one of the Varnhold mages was researching him. At one point, he thought it was a Nomen god. It is possible that his magical research uncovered something."
"Is this why your bard, Elenorik, is interested in the Cyclops ruins? And if the people are Varnhold were taken by Vordakai, perhaps Xamanthe has some knowledge of them. If she can be restored, I would appreciate speaking with her to see what she knows."