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A Iobaran man walks into the room, and puts down his hat. He let's it lose and the hat slides down his coat and stops above the waist. It seems tied to a string of sorts. "So I hear there's an expedition being planned here."
He looks around the people in the room, and raises his hand in a semi-waving gesture.
"Hello there. Name's Anibal."
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It has been nearly 5 days since late evening messengers pulled you awake from your tasks and ordered you to appear before Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng by midnight. Dreng, ever presenting the appearance of the doddering, decrepit old man, met you in the Great Hall of Skyreach, the main fortress of the Grand Lodge in Absalom. Dressed only in tattered night clothes complete with a faded yellow sleeping cap, the youthful excitement in Dreng’s eyes belied his elderly appearance.
“We’ve found them!” he declared, the moment you arrived in the Great Hall. “Those pitiful bastards who murdered Pathfinder Bodriggan Wuthers in Oppara those many months ago—you know, the Zyphus worshipping fools who tried to turn Oppara into a zombie-filled nightmare? After all this time, we finally tracked their remnants to a burned-out temple in the vagabond camp across the river from the capital. You will set out for there at once—there is a ship waiting and meet a man named Sebastus Hustavan outside the burned-out temple. Once a man of great importance, he seems to have fallen on hard times— fallen so far as to join those Zyphus fiends. But he’s redeemed himself by telling us their location! Find Hustavan—it can’t be hard, there’s only one burned-out temple to Sarenrae in the vagabond camp—learn all you can about the cult’s hideout, and then cleanse it of their presence. Cultists across Golarion must know they may not use the Society to fulfill their horrid glories—so too will they know that the Society will not stand by and watch its members murdered!”
Dreng cleared his throat then, his posture losing the sudden youthful fire and passion, his shoulders hunching once more, his face pinched and tired. “Of course, while you are there,” he rasped, “do your duty as Pathfinders and seek anything they may have that the Society would need in the vaults.”
So, after a hurried early morning rush to gather supplies in Absalom, several days in the blustery Inner Sea, and another spent weaving through the bureaucracy of the Taldan customs rituals, you find yourself walking through a chilly, early morning rain storm and approaching what the vagabond locals say is the location of the burned-out temple to Sarenrae.
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No sense mentioning the Zyphus Stone to Agents we don't know very well yet. It's too powerful an artifact to be blabbing about to people you don't know you can trust.
I was there. They invaded the opera hall and slaughtered the assembled effete layabout nobles with zombies after barring the doors to prevent escape. We followed them down into the basement where we tracked and killed their cult leader. It was an ugly situation.
Herald straightens up, a signal to those who know him well that he's about to launch into a sermon.
But not as ugly as it's going to get when She-They-He arrives. I tell you, we must prepare now! We only have 10,000 years to make preparations and master the arcane magic known as "Hiye Tekk". We need New Clear bombs and Megga-Jigga-What Lay-Sirs and Foe-Tonn Tor-pee-dos (whatever those things are) if we ever hope to avoid the terrible fate that awaits us. I have seen glimpses of...
He continues on indefinitely until someone stops him or no one is listening any more.
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Anibal makes some notes, then stops when doomsday speak pops up. He frowns a bit, then his interrupts the Herald: "In ten thousand years, you'll be long gone, old man. No need to worry."
He raises his right hand, index finger pointing up. "I do have a question, though. If, as you say, you tracked down and dispatched of this leader... Who are we after?" Anibal looks at Dreng with a surprised look on his face: "The whole lot of them?"
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"What happened, exactly? Anyone knows? Last time in the Oppara, I mean.
“Their leader, a man named Fel Bustrani, tricked one of our young rising stars in the Society, a pupil of Venture- Captain Eliza Petulengro named Bodriggan Wuthers, into believing he was working on a dig of significant importance for the Society. Instead, he was digging up an ancient artifact dedicated to Zyphus that now rests in the vaults below. It has the ability to turn corpses into Zyphus zombies, creatures able to infect living humanoids and turn them into yet more zombies. Were it not for the presence of brave Pathfinders, Caladrel and The Herald here, I fear the city of Oppara would now be crawling with undead. Though Bustrani was slain and his cult scattered or captured, they were not destroyed completely.”
Drangle Dreng smiles. You're contact Sebastan Hustaven may have more answers when you meet with him on who the new leader of the Cult of Zyphus is since Fel Brustrani fell.
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When the preaching ceases Kroval awakes from his trance of oblivious mental nothingness ( a typical state for him ) listens to Gealdn only to drift off again. Only to be brought alert again at the squawk of the bird-man.
"What's going on? I guess they're getting excited about something. I better join in."
"Yeah!" Kroval says with absolute agreement
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Cal strolls in towards the end of the introductions and planning, spots his pal herald and pats him on the back. Has my friend warned you of the "He-They-She" or whatever yet? Names Cal, Caldrel Quinn to be more quaint. So where are we off to now? After getting caught up he turns to The Herald: Hustavan eh? That bloat is still around? Looks like more babysitting duty for us then.
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I should think the Petal District would be a good place to look for a boat. Or...one might try the Docks District., Herald answers sarcastically.
He straightens up, but luckily this time there is no long-winded sermon.
I have Planned To Fail many times and Failed To Fail just as many. I'm ready whenever you are, my friends.
Herald gets a faraway look in his eyes momentarily, then robotically etches a bizarre alchemical formula on his shield:
Coming out of his trance, he notices the new inscription.
What in the Hells does that mean?, he wonders aloud.
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Rain patters down in sheets over the scorched skeleton of a once majestic temple. Walls of thick, blackened masonry stand tall and abandoned, with gaping wounds revealing where stained glass windows once caught the morning sun. The roof has collapsed and most of its remnants are long gone. Only large, immovable remnants of the crumbling masonry remain in the rubble piles scattered throughout the ruin.
All that remains inside this ruin are rocks and chunks of wood either too worn down and ruined to be of use or too heavy to carry away. There are signs that this place has been used in the past for shelter, but it has since completely collapsed, and most of the residents of the vagabond camp seem to give it wide berth. Two sets of ruined stairs in the temples south wall lead up to a once proud pulpit. At the back of the pulpit, an enormous stone lid, several hundred pounds in weight, has been pulled off a set of stairs leading down into darkness.
As you approach the meeting spot, you hear baying and growling in the temple. You hurry to the entrance and see the former consul of Oppara, Magistros Sebastus Hustavan, is here, currently being menaced by a pack of wild dogs. Hustavan is well over 6 feet tall, shockingly thin, and quite old. His head is balding and fringed by frizzled gray hair. His chin and cheeks are covered in several weeks’ worth of beard growth, the gray hairs standing out against his pale, leathery skin. He wears long white robes, muddy, torn, and ragged, and wears what looks to be a blue sash tied around his waist as a belt. The dogs are mangy, dirty things that wander the fringes of the vagabond camp in search of food or easy prey. Hustavan stands on the rundown Serenite pulpit. He’s wielding a long piece of wet, rotting wood and is just barely keeping the dogs at bay.
Anibal
Clik-Clak
Hustavan
Gealdn
Korval
Herald
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Dogs
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Caladrel
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Herald moves to the nearest opening and sees an grey-haired, tall, gaunt, unkempt old man inside.
I didn't know they made mirrors this big. Am I really that...oh, I see. Not a mirror.
Hmpfh! Bad doggies! Lay down!
He pushes, rather than throws, his morningstar careening at the nearest dog. It flies there with an otherworldly flair.
His weapon blinks out after striking and returns to Herald's grasp. He grins devilishly.
Little trick I learned back in Cheliax, when I used to have a name.
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The man leaps in fear at the sound of someone other than the dogs as Anibal calls out Hustavan's name. He calls back with a shaky voice. Of course I am you fool. Now come and save me! He shrieks, his voice echoing off the rubble.
Anibal rushes in drawing his weapon. Moving to a clear line of sight Clik-Clak takes aim with his heavy repeating crossbow and fires a single bolt into the green dog's leg, causing it to yip in pain.
Grabbing his Earthbreaker Gealdn rushes into the fray. Korval follows right behind the raging barbarian while the Herald moves up and waits for a dog to get near him before releasing his morningstar.
The dogs turn their hungry eyes from Hustavan to the immediate threat as they charge the party. Herald's morningstar hurtles through the air striking the purple dog in the shoulder. The red dog has difficulty moving over the rubble to reach Korval and Gealdn is able to get a blow in with his hammer, dropping the dog on the spot just before it's jaws reach Korval's throat. Gealdn's earthbreaker make contact with the red dog's head splattering it all over the pile of rocks.
Anibal
Clik-Clak
Hustavan
Gealdn
Korval
Herald
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Dogs (Green -4)(Purple -3)
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Caladrel
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Caladrel joins Clik-Clak drawing his bow, scanning for additional threats as Anibal, Gaeldn and Korval drop the green dog with a flurry of blows.
The Herald hurls his morningstar at the purple dog though his aim is a litle off as the morningstar strikes a piece of rubble instead.
The remaining purple dog leaps at the Herald and bites at the older man.
Using the broken pile of wood to leap, the dog stumbles as the wood shifts underneath it.
Anibal
Clik-Clak
Hustavan
Gealdn
Korval
Herald
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Dogs (Purple -3)
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Caladrel
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The remaining dog drops like a sack of potatoes. Hustavan quickly clamors down the rubble and rushes over to The Herald and Caladrel. His breathing labored. Thank gods you are finally here! I thought I was going to die in this hellish crypt.
Looking around he glowers. I see you have brought me some new escorts? They any good. Hustavan latches onto Glaern after he saw his smash two dogs into the rubble. You look to be strong enough. Keep me safe and I will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.
Hustavan quickly shoves the Herald forward down the stairs at the back of the temple. We must hurry, so I can get out of here and returnto the Society! Go. Go!
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Next time that Hustavan wants saving he better hope his enemy is threatening me too or I'll leave the ungrateful puny thing to his fate
Korval follows the group downstairs hoping to finish this business with Hustavan soon.
As they move Korval takes as much of lead position as he can not because he cares if his guide dies, but more so to take his frustration out on the next thing to impede his quest.
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"Right, right...", snickers Anibal.
"Before we head out, perhaps a rundown on the situation inside? Or are we improvising?" He takes out his journal again. "I've been told you were to provide information on this... Erm... Cult - or whatever it is."
Hustvan stops in his tracks and halts the Heraldfrom going any further down the stairs as he begins a long winded tale that seems to go on and on.
Fel Bustrani’s Zyphus-blessed plan to uncover the ancient Zyphus Stone and turn all of Oppara’s citizens into slobbering, horrid zombies failed. In a twist of irony, adventurous Pathfinders struck down Bustrani not long after he betrayed and murdered the Pathfinder who aided him in the acquisition of the Zyphus Stone in the first place.
All of this came to pass inside the House of the Immortal Son, Oppara’s most famous opera house and a frequent gathering spot of Oppara’s wealthiest citizens. Pathfinders in Oppara are now held in even higher regard than before— especially by the upper class citizens—as many of them either had relatives who survived the incident at the House of the Immortal Son or actually survived it themselves.
Bustrani’s ragtag bunch of cultists did not fair so well. Most of them were either killed when the Pathfinders foiled their plan or were captured and quickly put to death by the Opparan constabulary. A few dozen managed to escape, however, and skulked back to their hideout beneath a burned-out church of Sarenrae in the rotting, tumbledown camp on the south bank of the Mighty Porthmos River known as the Grandbridge Vagabond Camp. There Bustrani’s lot fumed and argued about how they might seek revenge on the meddlesome Pathfinders, or how they might steal the Zyphus Stone back from Absalom and use it to finally fulfill the will of their deity of accidents, graveyards, and tragedy.
His sighs and gives a small shudder. Korval even hears the man actually whimper as he tells the tale.
“As I got closer to the cult I saw a ragged dead thing with skin like blood and eyes like fire! I screamed and ran as soon as I saw it. Haven't been back for nearly a week now. Last I knew they were building traps and killing one another. I don't know what happened but not one of them has come to the surface since.”