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As the Grinning Pixie lurches and sways in the storm, Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry of the Arcadian Mariner’s Lodge grins widely as she slides a clay jug of strong Sargavan rum across her table. Though broad-shouldered and half a head taller than most humans, the intimidating half-orc speaks with an almost childlike excitement in her husky voice. “My apologies for all the secrecy,” she says. “I had to make sure some pirate rascal didn’t catch wind of our mission. Now that Drenchport’s a week behind us and we’re hugging the Eye of Abendego, it’s time to give you lubbers the full run-down.”
Benarry waits for the jug to make its way back to her, then takes a long swig. “I mentioned in Drenchport that the Society wants you to explore a recently discovered ruin somewhere north of the Shackles. Well, that was partly true, but it wasn’t exactly the whole story.” Benarry’s eyes narrow and her grin becomes unsettlingly sharklike. “We’re actually sending you to the Gloomspires, to Old Sevenfingers’s tomb.” Chuckling softly, she slides the jug back across the table. “Here, have another nip. Looks like you need it.”
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Kiddrik—a young, eager Taldan—listens with increasing excitement. His quick, infectious grin threatens to overwhelm his face as the half-orc captain finally lets them in on the secret mission.
"Gloomspire?" he says to no one in particular. "Sevenfingers Tomb?"
He looks off into space. After a brief, expectant pause, he shakes his head, muttering, "Well, that's no help."
Looking back at the group, he shrugs, his tone apologetic. "Never heard of either. What are we supposed to do there?"
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A spindly-legged amphibious humanoid struts into the room, the spurs on his boots jingling with each step. He raises his webbed fingers to his Stetson and nods his head at each person individually. "Howdy, folks," he croaks out in a gravely base. A long Alkenstar shooter is slung from his back and his belt-which seems far too big for his skinny body-is loaded down with ammunition.
"Folks tend to call me 'Chochok' if that suits you well and fine." He grabs the jug and tosses his head back. "Ahh! Some mighty fine drink you've got there, yes indeed."
After listening to the briefing, the grippli nods his head. "I've heard of Sempet Sevenfingers, can't say I know much more'n a name though. Yup, this sounds like'n to something I'm capable of doing. Ayup, I'll be ready to set off quicker'n all."
Taking advantage of the lull in conversation, Benarry continues "“I’ve been researching the Gloomspires for a very long time. Before I sailed to Absalom and joined the Society, I was a Free Captain here in the Shackles. Back then I learned about the Gloomspires, Old Sevenfingers, and all the treasure and secrets the old devil took with him when he sealed himself in his tomb.”
A long, rumbling growl of thunder makes Benarry pause, and she takes the opportunity to wet her lips with another swig of rum before she continues. “Since joining the Society, I’ve been able to learn even more about the Gloomspires. Most importantly, I’ve discovered that they’re tied to certain alignments of the stars, and that twice each year—beginning on the nights of the summer and winter solstices—the columns cease moving for exactly three days."
Wiping her lips with her sleeve, she smiles. “So, tomorrow’s the summer solstice. Now that you know the ‘where’ and the ‘when’ of this little caper, you need to know why the Society’s sending you.” Benarry pauses before continuing in a more conspiratorial voice. “I recently came into the possession of a logbook once owned by the pirate captain, Mazzer Thrennt. Before Thrennt ended up as lusca-bait seven years back, he was a moderately successful pirate who shared my obsession with the Gloomspires. It turns out his log contains an inventory of the plunder he liberated over the years, including the loot he found in Sevenfingers’s tomb."
"One item on Thrennt’s list immediately got my attention: His log described with perfect accuracy a relic from lost Lirgen called the Orb of Stars. I’m certain that this device can manipulate the alignments of the stars—or at least how we perceive them—and historical accounts suggest we could also use it to trick the Gloomspires into thinking that the solstice lasts more than just a day. The Society and I both want that orb, and it’s going to look really good to the folks back home if you’re able to secure it."
"Here,” she says, passing a sheet of parchment across the table, “I’ve written down some of the particulars.”
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"I reckon this'll be a task we can do. Can't say all that Orb and solstice stuff don't go right over my head, but that'll just be how it goes, I 'spose. It's a job and I aim to do it and do it right."
Chochok strides over to the table and picks up the paper to read it aloud to the party in his deep drawl.
I’m certain there are multiple levels to this tomb, so keep good notes, and document anything you find that might help future expeditions. Check around the top level, but don’t go any deeper than you have to to find the Orb. Remember, you only have three days to do this before the columns start moving again. The Orb of Stars is a solid sphere made of a dull copper-colored metal inlaid with dozens of star-shaped moonstones, rubies, and blue sapphires that mimic the stars of the Cosmic Caravan.
The captain shakes her head in response to Kiddrick. “I’ll be in the general area studying another section of the ruins, so you don’t have to worry about me constantly looking over your shoulder. The window of opportunity is too short for me to work on just one project.”
The trip to the Gloomspires takes about two days. After arriving and making last minute preparations, and at dusk, you notice the Spire cease their movement. With minimal effort, you are able to row out to in the Captain's folding rowboat and find the Gloomspire with the ship wrecked at it's base.
It took nearly two hours to climb the narrow, winding steps to the summit of the great stone column containing Sevenfingers’s tomb. Although the swirling chaos of the Eye of Abendego lies only a hundred miles away to the east, the violent storms it constantly hurls across the seas seem to have forgotten this eerily quiet place. Surrounding the monolith are dozens of nearly identical columns, their ominous outlines stretching down into the mist. And here, atop Sevenfingers’s tomb, is a small clearing surrounded by a thick and utterly silent veil of tropical trees, hanging vines, and thick undergrowth, all shrouded in fog.
The summit of Sevenfingers’s tomb is covered with thick tropical foliage. Most of the trees here stand 30 to 40 feet tall and consist of various types of banyan trees, corkwoods, mangroves, palms, and strangler figs. Due to the ever-present mists, visibility atop Sevenfingers’s tomb is limited to 20 feet. There is very little natural
wildlife here beyond insects and the occasional lost, miserable sea bird.
The winding stairs lead to a small clearing near the southeastern edge of the column. A lush canopy of tropical trees, flowering vines, and thick undergrowth forms a dark green wall around this small clearing. A broad trail cuts through the foliage and vanishes into the mists to the northwest. To the south and east is the edge of the column, and a sheer five hundred-foot drop. The ground here is a soggy carpet of thick green moss and black soil.
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Kidd’s nervous chatting had accompanied much of their climb, but here—at the top—he drops to silence.
”Gnawed on, huh?” he responds. ”How old does it look?”
He moves near the edge, giving a tentative look over before shaking his head and finding his way back to the group. ”So what now?” He points to the trail heading northwest, ”That way?”
Examinging the area to the fullest, the party contiues upward. Within a couple dozen yards, you happen upon a clearing shrouded in shadows thanks to the thick jungle canopy overhead. A dozen makeshift beds of leaves and palm fronds surround a sickly campfire that barely manages to keep smoldering in the humid air. few splintered bones and cloven skulls litter the clearing, and all show signs of being gnawed upon.
A half dozen savage, but emaciated men sit in the clearing around a fire ring. A seventh sits in the back, vacant eyed, and drooling.
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Watch out Frog Legs, make sure they don't mistake you for food... warns Stag to Chochok.
Stag takes the lead and approaches the savages with his gun holstered under his cloak. HE-LLO! MY NAME IS STAG! He pulls a pack of trail rations on his way up to the men and offers them the dried meat and fruit as well as the hardtack bread.
Stag thinks to himself. I hope these are the flesh eaters that the hall is named after...
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Kiddrik steps forward with Stag, giving the fellow pathfinder an encouraging smile as he looks over the ... savages.
After a few quiet moments of Kidd watching the men, then cocking his head in a gesture that appears like he's listening, he turns back to Stag and the group. "I have no clue. Anyone know who these people are?"
Not wanting to be unuseful, he whispers a few strange words as he watches the clearing.
The group of men descend on the trail ration, fighting over it and devouring it within seconds. They then turn back to the party, drooling and gibbering, though in no particular language.
Joesef gets the impression they want to eat you!
Reesa begins casting a spell!
Kiddrick takes a step back and blesses the party!
Joesef moves up and slashes one of the maneaters!
Two maneaters peel off to the north, circling around, whle four others surge hungrily toward Joesef, swingsing clubs, but all miss!