"In the earliest days, when the gods shaped the heavens and the earth, light flowed through the spheres into the world and all things were new. The gods made the genies, the first people, then the dragons and all the creatures of the earth. The gods were very pleased with themselves. Or rather, most of them were.
"Rovagug saw the creation of things, and at first he smiled, for he was newly risen as well. But then he gazed upon the land, and felt an itch to scratch the stones, to see what was inside a genie. His thousand feet must have claws of adamantine for a reason, and like a jackal with a bone, Rovagug tore and chewed and howled and spit, as if the earth were his to despoil.
"The other gods looked on, and spoke the first divine anger. 'How dare he destroy what we have made? Why does he kill and claw and break the shining harmonies of creation? We must stop him.'
"The gods spoke to Rovagug of peace. He ignored them, and vomited forth the bones of a forgotten race. The gods spoke to Rovagug of beauty and the harmony of new-made creatures. He ignored them, and tore open the sky with stones hurled from the heavens, setting fires across the world. The gods tried to pull Rovagug away as he climbed to the heavens, clawing at the moon. He turned and snapped at their hands. His teeth ripped the robes of Sarenrae, and shattered the shield of Abadar, and devoured the weak among the gods’ servants.
"The gods’ new rage made their former anger seem as nothing; they gathered their strength and fought Rovagug in a fury, and they were all cast down.
"No fury can stand before wrath, and nothing can destroy destruction."
It's been almost six months since the day Haleen disappeared. Despite the note she left, you've tried everything at your disposal to track her down. Search parties, posters, even spending money on a divination specialist - nothing's been successful. Until now.
You have no idea why Haleen would want to go to the old ghost town of Kelmarane, but somebody told you he saw her in the area recently. Of course, he could just have been after the reward money you offered, so you waited for verification. Then a second person told you the same thing. And a third. This couldn't be coincidence.
As if by fate, this is when you met Garavel. His employer was forming an expedition to reclaim Kelmarane and was hiring those with skills in that regard. By the time you found this out, almost all the slots had been filled, but there were still a pair of vacancies.
The expedition had plenty of muscle, but they were simple mercenaries-for-hire. Someone with a strong moral compass would be needed to keep them in line. Also, while there was already an apothecary and doctor, the expedition currently lacked an arcane practitioner. It was as if these positions had been custom-made for you, and this made your hire a simple process.
In the two weeks since then, you've been traversing the scrublands of Katapesh with Garavel as your guide, working to meet up with the rest of the expedition - and your mysterious employer. From what you've been told, she's a merchant princess of surpassing beauty. It's currently mid-evening, the shadow of the Pale Mountain looms far off to the west, and you've almost reached your destination - the Sultan's Claw. It (and the rest of the party) should lie just over the next rise.
Eserelda looked back at her husband and smiled. "The beginning of our journey starts right at the bottom of this next hill. What awaits us, I wonder?" She gave him a swift kiss and adjusted her glaive in her back. Thoughtfully she looked at the claw like tree. "Beauty can be found in all things, my friends. This tree, I believe, calls us toward the Divine beauty of reunion and recreation." She smiled at the others and sped up to examine the tree more closely, to touch it's bark and bask in the beauty of the falling sun.
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Shafir chuckles at his wife's enthusiasm. "Personally, I'm hoping some soft cushions await us. Seriously, is your butt not sore from the camel?" He was also hot, but complaining about that to an Ifrit was a waste of time. Choosing to keep a more leisurely pace, he took advantage of Ezzy's speeding up to enjoy the rear view.
"I know that tone. Come on up here and look at this, not my body. And no my butt does not hurt. As you can see it's nicely padded." She giggled. "There they are!"
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As you crest the last rise, a caravan of a half-dozen wagons and a large tent comes into view. Camels in a nearby pen prance in agitation, and a clutch of confused goats and livestock wander the grounds around the wagons. Perhaps a dozen men and women rush around the campsite, chasing down an animal or hastening toward the center of the cluster with pails of water in their hands. One of the wagons is on fire!
Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach, an ill wind blows several Harrow cards from inside. One of these blows directly toward Eserelda, catching against your chest before turning to embers. It's the Cyclone, signifying a force that tears through whatever it meets at the command of another. That's when the entire Sultan's Claw erupts in flame.
The central flap of the largest tent flies open, and a beautiful woman steps out. "Douse that flame!" she shouts imperiously at the men at the wagon before turning in your direction. "Ah, Garavel! And just a moment later than the nick of time, as usual. Hurry up and find some way to help."
Eserelda gasps and runs forward, ready to aid the people in need. "Move it Sweetums there are people to help! Try and get the fire out!!"
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Nodding to his wife, Shafir hurries toward the burning wagon. There was a bucket brigade working on it already, but the fire was dangerously close to spreading to a nearby wagon. "Help me get this away from the blaze!" he called to several mercenaries who were deciding what to do.
Once within range, he called upon his magic. "I wish that wagon would move out of the way."
The wagon shifted marginally but failed to move from its position. He'd need to word the wish better, it seemed.
Off to one side, an elderly man was tending to two horribly-burned victims of the fire. As Eserelda approached, he nodded briefly at her. "I almost have this one stabilized, but the woman's fading fast. Can you help her?"
Eserelda closes her eyes and places a hand on the poor lady's chest. "For the glory of Shelyn, may you live on in beauty!"
The worst of the woman's burns fade, and her breathing steadies . The healer finishes bandaging his patient a few seconds later. "Praise be to the Dawnflower, we've done it!"
Knowing that wishes tend to twist if used too frequently, Shafir decides to try moving the wagon the more traditional way and begins to shove.
He's not particularly muscular, so his assistance is minimal at best, but the burly men helping him manage to get the wagon out of its deep-set furrow. It should be easier to move now.
Smiling breifly at the old man, she gets up and runs to the wagon that is being pushed out of the way. "Put your back in it boys! We can do it!"
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Not wanting to be shown up by a woman, the mercenaries give it everything they've got.
And the wagon moves away from the fire. You're able to get it moved far enough away that there's no risk of it catching alight, even if the breeze changes.
Eserelda quickly moved to help the people to put out the fire. "We got this everyone! Keep those buckets coming!"
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With you and Shafir helping man the bucket brigade, the fire is quickly extinguished. Once that's done, it's a relatively simple matter to round up the loose animals as they begin to calm down. Once everything's back in order, you can finally officially meet the rest of the caravan.
Almah - leader
Garavel - majordomo
Dashki - gnoll expert
Eloais - astrologer (deceased)
Father Zastoran - apothecary, herbalist, and medic
Hadrod and Hadrah - animal tenders, cooks, and camel drivers
Fixx, Keldon, Podarn, and Vodrave - Almah's bodyguards
Trevvis - mercenary leader
Utarchus and Dullen - male mercenaries
Kallien, Brotis, and Yesper - female mercenaries
Eserelda smiled sadly at the group. "It's a sad day when you lose a comrade." She bows her head slightly in respect and then raises her eyes to meet theirs. "I am Eserelda, Paladin of the goddess of beauty, Shelyn. It is a pleasure to meet you all."
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"And I'm her husband, Shafir. I'm an academic with a particular focus on wishcrafting magic."
Almah nods in response to your introductions. "I'm glad that you got here in time to assist. Eserelda, since you're a religious person, perhaps you'd like to say a few words for Eloais' spirit before we continue?"
"I pray that his soul be judged fairly and his last moments without pain. May the beauty he brought to this world grow and multiply even though he is gone."
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Once the brief service is concluded, Almah approaches the two of you. "This was no mere accident; it was intentional sabotage. Dashki says it's the work of pugwampis, which means we're close to the location I've chosen to be our base camp. Kelmarane is infested with monsters, as you know, so we need a safe place to stay while we work to reclaim it. There's an abandoned monastery a few miles from there that should meet our needs, but it's supposed to be infested with pugwampis and other vermin. That's why I hired you. Scout ahead and clear the ruins of any threats. Make it safe for the rest of us. Father Zastoran has some things that may prove useful in that regard. In return for your efforts, I can pay each of you 200gp."
Barbary Fig x2
Cinderbloom x2
Palo Verde Bark x1
Specifitine x1
Venus Hair Fern x1
Eserelda nods. "Best to keep it safe for everyone. Shall we go, hun?" She quietly thanks the old man and takes his offering.
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"Of course, sweetheart. Let's clear ourselves a ruin!" Shafir chuckles as he walks with his wife. Abandoned structures - especially those of important historical value like monasteries - tended to be treasure troves of information for the scholarly.
Once they were out of sight of the caravan, he summoned his genie companion. If this place was infested with monsters, some extra muscle would be useful.
Eserelda also summons her companion, concentrating for a minute to find and link with her kindred. The serpentine creature appeared with a pop.
"Yes, Madam Eserelda? You called?" Radgort said in a laid back but professional tone.
"There are ruins to be cleared my friend. Now then, since everyone's here shall we move onward?"
"Of course Madam. As you wish. And how are you on this hot day Sir? Keeping cool I hope." He inclined his head ever so slightly towards Shafir, face neutral.
"I'm doing well, Radgort, thanks for asking." His companion, Nysene, gives the fire snake a respectful nod but remains silent as usual. She'd never been much of a talker.
Scrub brush and a light, patchy carpet of weeds invade the monastery through two huge fallen sections of the western wall. The exposed nave beyond is a huge hallway littered with bits of debris ranging from tiny rocks to enormous sections of collapsed masonry. Most of the roof above the long promenade is gone, but several jagged pillars remain.
Before entering Esse reaches out a hand and touches Radgort on the shoulder.
"Lets be careful shall we?"
Then cautiously walks to the opening, sending Radgort to the other side.
Shafir and Nysene follow.
As you get closer, you can hear noises deeper in the monastery, but the initial hallway appears to be empty.
Tentatively Eserelda steps in, followed by Tadgrot.
Inside, there are small circular chambers to the east and west. The western chamber appears to have once held a shrine and wooden alter, but now only wreckage remains. The ceiling remains intact, though, and you can see a huge bas-relief mural of a muscular bearded man gesturing with concern toward Pale Mountain.
The eastern chamber holds a similar statue. Here, the figure is making a symbol of peace to a group of robed pilgrims on a hilltop. Their expressions range from beatific to horrified. There's also a stone slab that appears newer than the rest of the monastery. Inscribed on it is, "A ghost of unholy mien was purged from this place by Theodephus Estrovan, servant of Aroden, 4691 AR."
"That's a statue of Vardishal!" Shafir exclaims with excitement. "He was a regional saint in this area thousands of years ago who belonged to something called 'The Order of the Five Winds.'"
"And look there, between the statues legs. There is a door there. Shall we check it out?"
Essie moves towards the door.
A short set of wide ceremonial steps leads down to a cavernous chapel in which the congregants would gather for sermons in happier times. The vibrant orange and red starburst of Sarenrae still stands behind a film of rusted rainwater and dirt along the north wall overlooking the collapsed altar. Between the stairs and the altar stand dozens of old marble benches, many overturned and even more broken into two or more pieces. A wide walkway bisects the pews, leading directly to the raised altar. Here and there, a few clumps of the original red carpet along this thoroughfare hang on against rot and neglect.
Above the center of the chapel, dangling about 10ft from the floor, hangs a cluster of gnoll skulls in various stages of decay. Strung together like a ghoulish candelabra of twine and bone, the boulder-sized ornament hangs from the wooden rafters about 20ft off the ground. As Radgort descends the stairs, this 'decoration' begins to jerk around wildly as a pugwampi crawls out from its hiding place. With a squeaky laugh, it makes a rude gesture in Radgort's direction, and a half-dozen more dog-faced fey pop up from the rafters.
Looming walls with no apparent doors enclose this small roofless garden. Monks must have once come here to relax and contemplate the ways of nature, but any order they might have brought to the place all those years ago is almost impossible to notice now, as a wild cacophony of multicolored scrub plants and desert weeds have almost completely overgrown the space.
Radgrot hurries to find his mistress. "M'Lady it seems we have company. The Pugwampis are here and ready to attack. Shall I dispatch them with you as usual?"
Moving up to Radgort she readies herself for battle. "Why yes, of course. Would I have it any other way? Honey, the pugwampis are over this way!" She grabs her glaive and waits for them to get closer.
The pugwampis fire a salvo of arrows at you, but most miss. A pair of lucky shots graze Eserelda and Radgort.
Shafir and Nysene hurry over at Eserelda's call. Nysene immediately creates a dust storm to provide temporary cover from the archers. "Pugwampis are cowards at heart, my dear. They won't come down from their perches unless it's absolutely necessary."
Essie steps under one of the pugwampis waiting for the thing to fall.
Radgort aims a the closest Pugwampi.
As soon as the dust clears, Shafir stares ominously at the gremlin directly above his wife. "I wish you'd come down here."
Somehow, the pugwampi fails to move. Apparently wishcrafting can't compel creatures against their natural inclinations.
The pugwampis retaliate with another salvo of arrows.
Eserelda, getting annoyed, throws a dagger at the one above her.
Radgort curses quietly at the pain and aims at the one than hit him. Squaring up, he shot and let loose his bolt.
"It occurs to me that those rafters look awfully flammable. I wish that I was a dragon."
Shafir's hasty wish isn't worded nearly precisely enough to actually turn him into a dragon, but it does give him a breath weapon - at least temporarily.
The pugwampis screech in trepidation as Radgort pins one of them to the rafters and Shafir's mouth begins to fill with fire. They duck behind cover, but they can likely still be hit if your aim is good enough.
Essie goes to retrieve her dagger and throw it again.
Radgort Shoots at the pugwampi behind the old one.
Shafir spits a stream of fire that incinerates the nearest gremlin.
As Radgort impales another pugwampi and Shafir sets the rafters on fire, the three remaining gremlins screech in terror. The location of the flames means that they're now isolated from each other. As creatures who ascribe to "safety in numbers," their predicament is truly horrifying.
Radgort smirks as his bolt flies true a second time and takes aim at another, moving up to get a better shot.
Essie again retrieves the dagger and goes after the same one Radgort is.
As the rafters begin to burn, the remaining Pugwampis screech and jump down from their perches. A moment later, a new figure enters the fray. Leaping down awkwardly from the rafters at the rear of the chapel, a hideously fat Pugwampi carrying a warhammer that's larger than its own body prepares to charge at you. The size of the hammer makes your kneecaps twinge in anticipation of pain-bringing.
"Come at me beast!" Ezzie charges forward.
Also taking a few slithers forward, her eidolon shoots a crossbow at it.