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Cyrus continues to blink the stars from his eyes while the magic from the wand stops the bleeding in his nose. With a shout, he pops the shattered cartilage back into place, allowing the wand to do the rest. The stains of blood on his shirt and a few specks on his face serve as a reminder to the power of the pious woman.
"I shudder to think what might have happened had you not fasted, milady." Cyrus says with a bow. He looks up, catching himself staring just a little to long as the lithe figure moves away.
Cyrus bows in response to Aeotsep's compliment, and casts a glance towards his Garundi friend, and faction brethren. "Master Aeotsep. I have a question for you that may seem odd, though I hope it is not to forward. As pathfinders, we are always in search of knowledge. You may know that while I serve the society, I also serve the Scarab Sages. When my masters heard of my trip to this place, the asked me to look for information that would only have the hope of surviving in a place like this, if it even exists. I search for anything in your records archive that references the jeweled sages, particularly during the timeframe of their flight from Osirion. Do you know if such a thing exists? If it does, what would an outsider like me have to do for the opportunity to look at them?
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Amaranti, now returned to his full height again, meets Cyrus' glance and joins the discussion.
"Is true. The Scarab Sages are interested on where Jeweled Sages go so many millenia ago. They scholars and sages, like you. Maybe they came here, and one of you write it in records." Details usually escape the Garundi's mind, but the story of his factions origin he has absorbed well. He might not pass as an Iroran monk, but he presents his request as humbly as he can - even hunching a bit as not to tower so far above Aeotsep.
"Cyrus my young friend. I am very familiar with all the collections in Tar Kuata. Sadly, what we have recorded is minimal. If you would give me until the morning, I am sure that I can locate the relevant texts for you."
"Good morning. I hope you have rested well from your trials yesterday. They were taxing on both the mind and body. Here, Cyrus and Amaranti. Look at these."
Aeotsep shows the PCs several texts that reference a now-absent scroll—supposedly a biographical account and paraphrased transcript of a discussion with a Jeweled Sage who stayed at Tar Kuata for 3 days soon after Osirion’s fall to the Padishah Empire. Any substantive research would require tracking down a surviving copy of the scroll, and Aeotsep finds a record suggesting one may still remain in the Sothis Exhibitory.
The next morning, the Pathfinders gather with Itephta and Aeotsep in the Master’s Room. The room is sparsely furnished but the Pathfinders can see that the items are well made and well used.
Itephta and Aeostep greet the Pathfinder warmly and even recount some of the fight the day before, especially the young ninja's acrobatic moves.
"Pathfinders, none can dispute you have erned our complete respect, and I can think of no other who are worthy of this relic. However, we need to ask more of you. We will bequeath the Sky Key component to the Pathfinder Society on the condition they provide our monastery some short-term assistance.
See, our monastery is remote and receives little direct aid from Sothis and the great river cities of Osirion, and this distance has made us a target for worshippers of Rovagug who recently became our neighbors. These so-called Doomsday Knights frequently attack caravans and pilgrims, and we have done what we can to protect the trails that lead here with the disciples we have. In fact, one of our own, a respected Ouat named Bertrag, disappeared several days before you arrived. At this point I assume he has perished; the cult is known for sacrificing intelligent creatures.
Irori promotes self-perfection, but I do not confuse that with blind self-reliance when confronted with a true threat. Tar Kuata can guard travelers or strike at the cult’s heart, but it cannot do both. With your assistance, we might rid this land of the Rough Beast’s warriors once and for all. What say you?”
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Miro nods thoughtfully, signaling affirmation of his acceptance. "While we aim to explore and report more than anything else, what would the Pathfinders be if they left an ally to deal with this problem alone? Of course we shall help you, even if you had no Sky Key."
The halfling grins wickedly, "These followers of the 'Rough Beast' will find out soon enough that they are not rough enough by half when my friends fall upon them."
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"I am sworn to uphold order. And the chaos that is the Rough Beast disturbs that order. We shall do whatever we can to learn the fate of your fellow monk, and to rid this region of the Doomsday Knights should that be possible. For was not the Lord of Contracts foremost in the fight that bound Rovagug? His followers can do no less. "
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In the morning, when Aeotsep brings them the texts, he listens to the monk's explanations carefully, and trying to remember what is written, to later report back to Amenopheus and Tahonikepsu. Once that is done, he thanks Aeotsep, but cannot help and ask: "I was thinking... Before we climb the spire, you say one student attain wisdom like founder's. Who is this student?" This question, while presented humbly, is followed by not-very-inconspicuous nudge towards the young ninja.
"We help you, of course" Amaranti states matter-of-factly. Their mission was to get the Sky Key component, and if destroying Rovagug cult is their way to attain it, then they shall strike at the heart of the worshippers. Besides, the Garundi has taken quite a liking to the Irori monks, he is happy to help them.
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"Sothis Exhibitory... got it." Cyrus jots the information down in his journal, not trusting his mind to remember the details. He smiles sheepishly when Amaranti nudges him as he asks the question. He cannot help but wait with bated breath for the answer, on the off chance his friend's instincts were correct.
Much like his large Garundi friend, Cyrus has taken quite a liking to the monks and their way of life. Not so much that he wished to join, but, enough that he knew he would long to return to visit someday. He had a pretty good idea of how his report to Amenopheus and Tahonikepsu would go regarding the possibility of finding a jeweled sage from amongst the wisdom here.
"Miro speaks for all of us, we would be delighted to help defend your caravans and rid the area of the rough beast's influence, even if there were no sky key to obtain. I would like to come back someday to visit, perhaps to study for a time, and I would like to make sure that there is a place to come back to. It would be our pleasure to help."
With a little help form their halfling friend, "Well it might not be right for me to share her information, but I will never forget Dhiara. You know sometimes she sends us letters, let me go see if I can find one."
He returns moments later,
No matter the great distance that separates me from the monastery, every day I fondly remember the humble halls filled with extraordinary knowledge and mortal potential. I encourage each of you to strive for excellence and also look forward to the day you might leave the monastery to test your skills against worldly challenges. I write this not to suggest that Tar Kuata restricts our skills, but there are
discoveries one can pursue only beyond its cloistered walls.
My writing supplies are among the last of my humble belongings left to pack. The people of Iadara have mostly kindly honored the conclusion of my personal trial against Tanglebriar, yet even 10 years without rest seems trivial compared to the struggles of the elves that call this home.
Nonetheless, I have met and exceeded my goal, and it has driven me to find others who fight against impossible odds. My contacts in Erages speak of kindred outcasts in a land called Averaka_a place unfamiliar to me, and one that I am intent on finding.
My next letter may not arrive for many months. Until then, always aspire to be greater than you were the day before, and harness the lessons of the past to realize a greater future.
Your fellow sister,
Dhiara
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Cyrus wanders around, knowing the group will be setting out soon. Eventually he finds Aramaya sitting alone, meditating.
Hmm... might not have enough time to wait for her to finish, but do not want to interrupt. Let's not make this awkward... if you can help it...
Cyrus approaches quietly and begins to open his mouth to speak. He stops himself short, thankfully, and instead sits down next to the woman. He crosses his legs, mimicking her pose, and closes his eyes.
...
Some time later a pebble bounces off Cyrus' ear, snapping him out of his reverie. He turns back to see Ibid and Miro quietly waving him out of the room.
time to go... well... maybe next time Aramaya...
Getting up as quietly as he can, Cyrus slips out of the room and follows his companions, refreshed and ready for the inevitable battle to come.
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"Aeotsep, this is amazing information! We have a breadcrumb trail to start on now. This place, and you people fascinate me more and more by the minute. Thank you! I cannot wait to visit again, on a less official capacity." Cyrus smiles, bowing, shaking hands, whatever seems most appropriate to convey his gratitude for the letter and information. He grins to Amaranti, knowing this will greatly please their leaders.
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I did not think I hit him that hard. I wonder if he is weak, or I was too far in my battle lust. I would apologize, but I do not want to offend him. He tumbled past me so fast I could barely see him. What ability he possesses.
As Cyrus gets up, Aramaya cracks one eyelid open, begins to say something, thinks better of it, then continues to meditate.
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Cyrus realizes that he has gleefully accepted the assignment, but doesn't know exactly what it is.
"It seems like the best course of action would be for us to strike out at the heart of these thugs while you continue to focus on protecting the people of this area and the caravans. Is that what you are suggesting?" Cyrus makes sure that it is clear he is not questioning them, merely confirming what he thought he heard.
"Do you have any idea where this place might be? What do you know of the thugs who have attacked the pilgrims and caravans? Simply starting a fight might not be good enough to chase them away, we may need to find a way to convince them that they don't want to come back..."
“We have tracked the Doomsday Knights to an abandoned mine located more than a day’s travel north of here.”
“They are a cult of Rovagug led by Tasutek, a priest granted considerable physical strength by his patron. Most wield divine power in one form or another. The church of Sarenrae warned us of this group, which fled the Dawnflower’s wrath in An and found refuge here.”
Aeotsep moves to the collected group before they depart. I wish you fortune and insight in your upcoming challenges. Before you depart, as a show of our appreciation, please accept these gifts." he removes his two rings—. He also hands over a phylactery of faithfulness and an incense of meditation.
"It has been my absolute pleasure to watch you all grow in your short time here. You will always have a home here in Tar Kuata." The ageg monk makes his was down the terraced steps that the Pathfinders has raced up only a day ago. Once the Pathfinders reach the village, he bows deeply, and begins the trek back up to the monastery.
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"It has been a joy facing your challenges, Aeotsep," says Lort, a genuine smile on his face as he shakes the monk's hand, "They were tough indeed. It is easy to see why so many of your aspirant's become villagers. Perhaps next time, you will find some challenges that will best me! Ha!" The half orc slaps the old man gently (for once) on the shoulder, "Actually, I do not doubt that that Aramya would have slaughtered me in single combat. She is quite exceptional. When you see her next, please apologize for the shiner I left on her forehead."
"It will be our absolute pleasure to perform this task for your monastery," Lort adds when they are given their mission, "Followers of the Destroyer are not to be trifled with lightly. Such zealotry and unbridled chaos are hard to reason with. Luckily, I have brought with me the tools of reason and Kurgess has deigned to give me the strength to wield them!" Lort pats his greatsword fondly.
Approximately 30 miles north of Tar Kuata lay the Merotsi Mines. A weathered wooden sign still stands by the entrance, warning visitors in Osiriani to “keep out.” The mine’s adit is also boarded over, though the planks are loose and easily removed. The distinctive steam still permeates the mine. Any character breathing will notice that the fumes feel uncomfortable, but are not harmful.
Torches in the wall sputter in the damp air, providing only dim light. The air here is acrid but does little beyond irritating the eyes. Five horses tethered to hooks on the walls have bloodshot eyes, rashes, and other minor conditions from their apparent exposure to the mist.
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Cyrus carefully picks his way into the mine, resisting the urge to rub his eyes from the bothersome air. He inspects the lift and mine carts, peering down the long tracks to see what may be seen.
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As the team approaches the lair, Faustus will cast a couple of long-term spells. First, he casts See Invisible (lasts 1 hour), and then Perceive Clues (also 1 hour) (tag line will be updated).
"Be careful, friends. We don't want to get in over our heads."
If he hears a language he doesn't understand, he'll follow up with Tongues.
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"Ha! While you look for clues, the enemy plots our demise!" bellows Lort, blowing any chance of a silent approach, "Come, let us face them on the field of battle and make them pay for the injustices they have wrought upon the peace loving monks!" As Lort strides forwards in his clanking plate armor, his fellow Pathfinders realize that a quiet approach was never on the cards anyway.
The Pathfinders' approach to entering the mine is as varied as the Pathfinders are themselves. As they burst on the scene, Cryus, overcome by curiosity, heads straight towards the mine cars spooking the horses. They begin kicking and neighing causing quite the cacophony.
Faustus takes a more cautious approach, casting spells. His evil god rewards his attention to detail.
No sooner has he cast his spell, than Lort and Kaisharga notice a small, green winged creature that resembles Rovagug.
Lort barges in, declaring for all the world to hear that he is here, and ready for action.
Ibid, though still suffering from a freak accident involving a cactus and desert avian on the journey to the abandoned mine, is still with it enough to begin his investigation.
Ibid undeterred by his afflictions, is able to tell that the smell that is permeating is volcanic in origin and mildly acidic.
He is also able to tell that the small green winged creature is a Homunculus
The large Inquisitor, seeing the Homunculus has a book, looses his sh*t and 'Pronounce Judgement'. The construct is found wanting, and is now a splattered, gooey mess on the mine floor.
As the Pathfinders move away, the horses settle down. They still look spooked, and you wouldn't want to barrel ride with one of them. Apparently they will be content to live in a semi-volcanic environment, slowly dying a little each day.
The curious ninja, now that the horses are settled the the Homunculus is goo, begins to explore the cave somewhat more.
To the east the mine carts sit on a double track that descends down a steep tunnel. Each pair of carts connects to a pulley assemblage by chains, which an operator can move using a large windlass at the top of the tunnel. Each cart can hold up to three Medium creatures and has a smaller windlass, allowing a creature to ascend or descend unaided.
To the west is a standard mine lift, metal cage, wooden platform, and several levers of varying size. The elevator can hold up to six Medium creatures.
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"As much as I would like to ride down in one of these carts, it most likely won't take us to the same place as the lift here. If there is nothing left here, we might as well head down..." Cyrus nods to Miro, indicating he should push the button, or swing the lever once everyone is aboard.
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Once aboard, the affable halfling begins to try to pull levers. Try as he might, time and neglect have frozen the lever marked 'Descend' in place. Some of the stronger members of the group also give the old heave-ho to no avail.
Stymied they look at each other wondering what to do.
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"Ha! The mining carts are a better way to go anyway," says Lort, "At least that way, we'll know how to get back out again. I do not trust an elevator that is already broken!"
Ever the incautious one, Lort leaps onto a mine cart and begins to try winching the windlass.
"Ha! Beautiful!" he cries, "Now, who wants to ride with me?"
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"well Miro, let's give this another shot!"
"woohoo! I thought you would never ask!"
Cyrus leaps into the next mine cart, mimicking the checks that Lort just made, and waits for the rest of the group to load up before beginning the descent.
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Miro assesses the elevator, looking about the thing and the gadgetry until inspiration just...happens. "Cyrus, I think if you connect those two thing-a-ma-jigs there, and possibly clamp these two widgets together, then maybe put a bit of oil on those gears, we should be able to get this bad boy rolling again!"
The Pathfinder, like all high-performing teams, immediately go to work fixing the problem, rather than admiring it. Miro points out that he once saw a book that talked about gears and other things that moved. He suggests to the nimble Cyrus that if you move that kannuner valve, and pump up the tron rods, then the dewhickey will functions at optimal standards.
Rolling up his sleeves, Cyrus does as the halfling instructs. A string of curse words, some grease, and a bit of bubble gum, the lift is fully operational.
The Pathfinder once again pile into the lift, a little jostling, and "Hands to your self mister", and once again Miro throws the switch.
This time, the lift jiggles, rumbles, and begins a jerky decent into the cavern below.
As the lift shudders to a halt, the Pathfinders warily de-lift, the immediately feel a wave of heat roll over them.
In severe heat (above 110° F), a character must make a Fortitude save once every 10 minutes (DC 15, +1 for each previous check) or take 1d4 points of nonlethal damage. Characters wearing heavy clothing or armor of any sort take a –4 penalty on their saves. A character with the Survival skill may receive a bonus on this saving throw and might be able to apply this bonus to other characters as well (see the Survival skill in Chapter 4). Characters reduced to nconsciousness begin taking lethal damage (1d4 points per each 10-minute period). A character who takes any nonlethal damage from heat exposure now suffers from heatstroke and is fatigued. These penalties end when the character recovers from the nonlethal damage she took from the heat.
As they look around, they see that
This would be an unremarkable cavern were it not for the metal tower that occupies most of the space and pushes against the fractured ceiling.
