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Your boots squash with fetid water as you plod through the Puddles. A thick fog hanks in the air, seeming almost to caress the flesh with an unnatural chill. As you stand outside the Soggy Piper in a foot and a half of brackish brine, you try to recall what was so damned important to demand your presence in the half-flooded slum during Absalom's rainy season. You remember your meeting at the Lodge just a few hours earlier with your Venture-Captain Adril Hestam.
A bear of a man with only a few teeth remaining in his head, he motioned you into the meeting hall with a casual wave of his grizzled hand. The human captain outweighs most of Absalom's half-orcs, and though a layer of beefy blubber coats his frame, those of you who have tangled with him in the lodge sparring ring know that beneath this thin veneer of fat lies nothing but sold, steely sinew. Adril's wild beard wags to the ponderous shake of his massive head as he examines a scrap of ancient parchment on the table before raising his eyes to greet your gaze and speaking:
"Come in then, friends and thank you for answering my summons so swiftly. The Society is in need. An old and quite penniless historian, a bespectacled wag-beard by the name of Yargos Gill has recently made a discovery in an old archive that we have a great interest in obtaining: an ancient code-book, left behind in the wake of one of Taldor's many failed attempts at invasion. This several-hundred-year-old text would prove an excellent addition to our collection, and must be preserved."
"Yargos makes his home in 'The Puddles', Absalom's poorest district, suffering from a well-known reputation as a haven for lowlifes. Following an earthquake ten years ago, parts of The Puddles now rests below sea level, resulting in frequent and untimely flooding. Those who can afford not to live there - don't."
"The district is the stomping ground of pimps, harlots, addicts, knifers, and hoards of unseemly derelicts. It's never been a kind place, but recent reports reveal some new nameless terror on her waterlogged streets. Several persons claim to have seen cloaked, skeletal-like figures marching through an unnatural fog. Ill tidings indeed. Tracking down Yargos is now a priority -- lest some yellow-toothed thug cut him down, or one of these strange wraiths carry him beyond the pale. Find him, fellow Pathfinders, and find the codebook. Your exploits will be recorded in the Chronicles if you succeed."
The memory fades as a fresh deluge of cold seawater rounds the bend in the lane and assaults your knees. After searching for Yargos at his favorite eatery, the Soggy Piper, you learned you just missed him. According to the Piper's staff, a gang of dangerous young tattooed toughs arrived ahead of you. They grabbed Yargos and several of his friends from their dinner table and dragged them to a nearby cliff at the edge of the Puddle District. The Watch was called, but the will arrive too late, as they often do in The Puddles, when they bother to venture there at all.
It is early evening, the first Wealday of the month of Desnus, an old man is about to face some awful fate at the sea cliff known as Torsen's Maw, and you are no closer to finding the codebook that Adril sent you for.
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Act 1- The Drowning Depths
Six brash young toughs covered with tattoos of vicious snarling dogs are prodding four terrified older men off the edge of the cliff into the sea. The prisoners are shackled together in a line of heavy chains, which shall surely drag them to the sea floor in short order should they tumble from the cliff's edge into the churning waters below.
Song pants heavily, obviously pleased with herself.
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Outnumbered and helpless victims in need of saving. How do I end up in these situations, there better be a good pay day at the end of all this. she thinks to herself as she draws her fine shortsword rushing the the thug directly in front her. She raises her sword and at the last moment instead of thrusting her blade she attempts to shove the man over the cliff.
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Miette moves forward vanishing behind a large rock, and her crossbow bolt takes the central villain in the armpit and sending him tumbling to the grass.
Eleanor moves forward and singes the thugs with her flames, while Song takes advantage of his foes flatfootedness to move around behind them and sinks his teeth into one of the thug's calves tearing it open and sending the unfortunate fellow into unconsciousness blood spurting freely.
Already singed the three thugs, one of whom has just lost consciousness, cannot avoid the onslaught of Rathan's torrent of flames and two more collapse flesh smoking.
Naiyra draws her bow and puts an arrow in another thug's throat leaving one remaining wide eyed miscreant. Ignoring Ennoia's orders he makes a break for it screaming obscenities as he runs, until the Paladin's shaft buries itself in his chest silencing him.
The prisoner's gape in awe at the annihilation of their tormentors, and it takes a few seconds before they think to scurry away from the cliff's edge - giving Song nervous looks. The bearded fellow, best dressed of the four, though a trifle ragged from recent events, steps forward,
"A thousand thank you my friends you have saved us all. I am Yargos Gill, thoroughly indebted to you! These poor souls are my friends, Tashen, Ilmn, and Samchar. And these thugs you have so ably thwarted are Nessian's Warhounders - young fools looking to impress that verminous gang leader. I fear I must ask for your aide further, for I may have put the lives of everyone in Absalom in grave danger!"
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"You are most welcome sir, perhaps you could lead us somewhere dry and not overly out of our way, and explain what you mean by 'you have put the lives of everyone in Absalom in grave danger.'?" Eleanor answers, calling Song to her that she might mount the war beast.
As she mounts her wolf, Song, Esmeralda attempts to get her beast to get the scent of the bandits, and fetches a scrap of clothing from the man at her feet just in case.
Song does her best to obey, and sniffs around the corpses of the fallen trying to get a good scent, moderately appreciative and somewhat offended that Eleanor felt the need to get a scrap of clothing, 'just in case'.
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"I fear there is no time my Lady. You see eight hundred years ago the Taldan's attempted to conquer Absalom, they sent a vast Armada in fog shrouded Desnus, and planned to use a force of infiltrators within the city, called The Black Echelon, to strike at key points, and disable the alarm systems before the Armada would descend upon us. Fortunately brave heroes of old dispatched The Black Echelon and the Absalom Navy was able to crush the Armada as it sat idle awaiting the signal to attack. All this would be well and good save that every man of the Black Echelon, and of the Armada swore an oath called The Binding Word, swearing that they would complete their mission no matter what it took."
"I did not know this when I found the Silent Tide codebook, and fool that I am I replicated some of the signals on a lark. And something awakened... Realizing what I had done I tried to warn all I could and went to throw the Silent Tide codebook into the sea, where it could cause no further harm. But Nessian, a jumped up young crimelord, snatched it from my grasp and now plans to use it to blackmail the city. We must stop him at all costs, he knows not the powers he toys with and they could destroy us all!"
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Jumping up on the boulder Miette puts her hands on her hips and loudly exclaims: "I rule this rock! All fear me!" HAHA!
Feeling proud of herself the posturing green Gnome jumps down and saunters towards the chained four and bends down to untangle the four.
While working on the chains Miette says to Yargos:
"Old man, do you know where this crime lord Nessian can be found and more importantly where his gold is?"
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Yargos shakes his head, "I fear you misunderstand me Lady, the oath was sworn by the villains of the piece not the heroes, and it bound them beyond death itself. As for Nessian, I do not know where he might be found, I am not aficionado of the underworld, and gold is the least of our worries. However, I do know of a man who is, Grandmaster Torch they call him, an information broker of great renown and certain to know the business of everyone in Puddles if his reputation contains but a grain of truth," he wrings his hands,
"We must find Nessian, the Silent Tide Codebook contained an abort signal, but alas when I perused it I thought it only a curiosity and did not commit it to memory. If we are to prevent Nessian's foolish greed bringing down undead in their tens of thousands upon the city we must retrieve the codebook! I know where to find Grandmaster Torch and can lead the way, unless any of you have a means to find Nessian?"
Miette is able to free the men from the rusty ancient shackles with little difficulty, and Naiyra's searches of the dying Warhounders turns up a goodly amount of coin.
"Well you seem to know your business and I don't see as we can be a great deal of help," the fellow grizzled old fellow identified by Yargos as Samchar says, "I'll warn those who'll listen, see if we can't protect a few folks, but I don't expect they'll listen to an old timer like me. Good luck to you, and us all."
With that the three unfortunate dinner compansions depart, rubbing their wrists and casting frightened glances out at the fog shrouded sea.
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"We must find Nessian, the Silent Tide Codebook contained an abort signal, but alas when I perused it I thought it only a curiosity and did not commit it to memory. If we are to prevent Nessian's foolish greed bringing down undead in their tens of thousands upon the city we must retrieve the codebook! I know where to find Grandmaster Torch and can lead the way, unless any of you have a means to find Nessian?"
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Eleanor moves up next to the chained men, and takes the manacles in her hand, "Perhaps I should do something about these. You would no doubt be more mobile without chains holding you all in a lump!"
"Grandmaster Torch it is. No, I do not know how to find him. Unless someone else knows the way, I believe that would be the most reasonable starting place!
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Following Yargos who strides forward determinedly despite his plumpness the group wind their way through the waterlogged streets of the Puddles district.
Then everyone save Ennoia sees a red light flashing in a distinctive pattern from the top of a tall building deep within the city.
"Nessian!" Shouts Yargos, "He's signalling The Black Echeleon - the undead! Six flashes of red - I remember that signal... By the gods! That's the granary! Nessian has sent those monsters to poison the granary! C'mon, I don't know how, but we've got to stop them - we're the only ones who know what's happening!"
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Yargos leads the way towards the granary explaining as he pants for breath, "They planned to lace the city's reserve grain supply with a forgotten poison known as Gut Wither. In a siege the city would be faced with mass starvation, even now thousands would likely die!"
An eerily cold fog descends upon the streets around you as you hurry. Arriving at the huge granary you see the massive wooden door is ajar and the corpses of three guardsmen lie before it.
Through the open door you can see that the antechamber beyond is empty.
Song pads silently inside, stopping briefly to let Eleanor dismount. Once the gnome is safely on the ground, Song moves to take point, as directed by her master.
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Most of the floor inside the granary is covered in great piles of grain, its obvious that pushing through this will be difficult.
The ceiling is ten feet high and covered in flow hatches, designed to pour down grain from the level above.
As the group moves into the granary following the blood trail behind Song they see three cloaked figures unloading dark vials of glistening liquid at the end of the trail of blood. A second glance reveals that these things are not flesh and blood, but comprised of whirling mist which seems to fill their cloaks and carry their ancient rusted sickles, the only real substance is the skull that floats in each cowl!
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Naiyra's arrow hits true, but though it clearly pains the creature it does not seem to be as effective as it would against a less supernatural foe. The injured undead hisses and rises upwards its foglike essense seeming to expand and spill forth a thick mist all around it. It is still possible to see through the mist, but everything beyond a few feet away is hazy and indistinct.
The other two creatures drift silently forward towards Miette, the only sound the grain shifting in their wakes. Only one is able to reach her and attack, but it rakes its rusty sickle across the gnome's chest leaving a jagged and agonizing wound.