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The Blakros Museum rises into the night sky, its single black
spire severing the full moon in twain. The black iron gates
surrounding the exhibition hall grind in protest against the
wind. Beyond, the museum’s large oaken doors stand wide
open, a silver-gray mist belching forth from the cavernous
darkness within. You wonder how you ended up here, standing
at the precipice of unknown terrors, and instantly Venture-
Captain Adril Hestram’s wide looming face is conjured into
your minds’ eye. His booming words ring out from memory as
clearly as he spoke them only one hour ago:
“The Blakros Museum is cursed. Some darkness has
descended upon the place and those who enter are blasted with
evil and left raving through its halls, more beast than men. The
curator, Nigel Aldain, is an old associate of the Society, though
he chose to leave our organization some years back after a
disagreement.” Adril looked sheepish then, as if remembering
some distasteful incident from his youth.
“Nigel has long denied the Society access to the Blakros
Museum’s considerable collection of relics and scrolls, using
his extensive contacts to nab several excellent finds right out
from under us... he always had a nose for the hunt. Whatever
is past between Nigel and the Society, he needs our help now.
Perhaps if we can come to his aid, he may think on rejoining the
Pathfinder Society, or at least offering to share his discoveries
with us.”
“Apparently the trouble at Blakros Museum began this
morning, shortly after a wayward Pathfinder named Lugizar
Trantos returned to Absalom after months spent in the Mwangi
Expanse. Supposedly, instead of coming straight to the Lodge
to report in, he went to Blakros, sold his finds to Nigel, and
then disappeared with a hefty sum of gold. The few who
glimpsed Lugizar claimed he was much changed by his time
in the Mwangi... gaunt, his eyes yellowed and unfocused, a
strange rasping cough that seemed to wrack his now wasted
frame. Whatever he brought back with him, we believe it is the
cause of the Blakros Museum’s ills. Root it out.”
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Fine Calistrian Leather creaks as Azalia stretches like an runner before the Absalom Marathon. I know I'm going to regret this she thinks. Then she shouts: Sheg? Mr. Sheg Wraithbane, are you in there? She listens quietly for a moment. Then walks up the steps, slowly drawing her rapier. Brrrrrringit!
(Dotting, will edit as soon as the sheet is complete.)
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The Half-Orc priest with brilliant red hair was the one to exercise caution, following after the Elf. When Azalia began to ascend, he loudly clanked after her, his ill-fitting armor beating against the glaive still upon his back.
"Dear girl, put your weapon away. If mister Wraithbane is at home, he's likely to be jumpy and nervous-and your steel will do little to put him at ease."
A worried glance was given to the building, and the man cleared his throat. "Though do keep it close at hand. We don't want anything getting the drop on us, after all."
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Agilely bouncing up the steps, Renli lets out a sigh of exhilaration. Pulling his wide-brimmed hat from his head, he runs his fingers through his disheveled hair as he smiles."Ah, the famed Blakros Museum! What treasures will we see within? Yet we must be on guard, for who knows what foul evil has been brought back from the Dark Continent?"
Searching his mind for knowledge of the Blakros Museum, he traces the edges and engravings of the door.
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Mwangi Expanse. At first he wrote letters to his brother
and wife, but after a few months these stopped coming
and most gave him up for dead.
His letters spoke of a lucrative find at one point,
three idols of dark wood carved in the shape of bearded
monkeys.
As the party enters the building from the gaping open door an unnatural cold permeates this chamber and the tendrils of silver-gray mist flowing out the front archway into the courtyard beyond seem to effortlessly pierce the flesh and gently caress the bone in a cold embrace. The grand entranceway’s vaulted ceiling is supported by six great pillars of hewn black stone. Braziers mounted on the pillars
cast white radiance from balls of continual light. The light glimmers eerily in the silvery haze that fills the atrium, giving the impression of something alien watching from the glowing fog.
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Stepping cautiously into the mist filled chamber, Renli lets out a shiver. "it is said Trantos spent nearly a year in the Expanse, and was feared lost to its wilds before returning. In one of his scripts home, he spoke of three wooden idols, carved in the likeness of bearded monkeys. Who knows what he unleashed..."
Peering into the mist, Renli tries to see what is beyond.
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Makoa was among the first into the mists, still prattling on as he explored. "Mm. Bearded monkeys or no, our first concern is to find the poor man and remove him from the prema...premi...place. Here. You know what I mean. Him safety is highest prio...pror...important."
He'd gotten separated for just a few brief moments in the fog-but those moments had been enough. He had been 6'2". He was still roughly that height, but hunched over, his body swollen and his arms a bit longer. The ill-fitting scale mail now squeezed at his body, making it even more obvious the Half-Orc had grown. Even his tiny tusks, formerly little more than white triangles on his mouth, had grown like a boar's!
"...Feel funny. I shower today?"
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Looking to the cursed state that three of his comrades have found themselves in, Renli draws his blade and looks around cautiously. "By all the Gods of Golarion, what foul curse could warp those so strong of heart and mind into beastlike mockeries of their selves?! Foul magic indeed." Looking each in the eye, he tries to see into their souls, hoping to find the character of his fellow pathfinders still strong within.
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Makoa, Billin and Azalia each succumb to the mists effects as their features become more and more apelike features.
Renli peers past the room and sees a long hallway set before the party but otherwise no other features within this room in particular
The mist does not seem to affect Billin's dog at all and it looks as though Makoa, Billin and Azalia's features have changed that they still seem to maintain their sanity and personality.
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After Azalia's comment, Renli turns to Leena, "Seems like they are still themselves to me. Onward we go!" Leaning in close to Leena, he whispers, "You don't happen to have any bananas... do you? We might need them for coaxing. Just a thought"
Blade drawn, Renli heads further into the eerily glowing mist and toward the hallway, seeking doors of any kind.
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Renli looks up to the hulking elf-ape lady and smiles. "My, aren't we feeling friendly. Let's remember that there may be museum staff here, so we don't need to immediately kill everything. Also, we need to find the curator Nigel."
With his sword in one hand, he grabs the handle in the other, and steps back as he opens it.
Makoa himself was following along, scratching at his head for a bit. He retained just enough self-awareness to know something was wrong, that he should be...better...than this. Smarter. More keen. Still, at least he wasn't acting as violently as his brutish looks suggested.
The potential danger wasn't forefront in his mind-Azalia's scowl was. He put a heavy hand on her shoulder, simply saying, "No fight. Fight friend, bad. Find reason for change."
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The mists here congeal into a thick and silvery fog that cools the
lungs. Arranged throughout this large hall are exhibits on the
funerary traditions of several civilizations, along with preserved
corpses arrayed in grim stillness. A giant warrior looms from the
haze, his arms crossed at his chest, his helm solemn and still.
Beyond lie sarcophagi of varied designs, and a few glass cases
wherein withered dead are held upright by rods and string; grim
exhibits of long-dead citizens whose fallen empires were erased
an age past.
A placard above this hall reads “The Honored Dead” in
blood-red calligraphy.
As the party enters the room the undead wthin the display begin to tremor and return to life. One is a withered,
mummified thing from beneath Osirion’s sands bearing
a jeweled scarab on its chest among its spiced wrappings,
a scarab seer and warrior-priest of an old Pharaonic age
named Taltuma-Matl. Another is a hulking skeleton, a
towering ancestor of the Kellid race who wields a greatclub
fashioned from a mammoth’s ivory tusk. The third is a
shrunken, emaciated corpse wrapped in rotten silks, and
holding a silvered Qadiran scimitar in its bony fists. An armored warrior of a long-dead empire, clad in heavy discolored bronze plates and helm, is also present.
The two pile of bones reach the clawed hands and weapons towards the party of intruders as they advance upon Renli and Azalia. One of the skeletal beasts wields a greatclub while the other wields a deadly looking scimitar. Renli dodges out of the way of the great club although Azalia is not so lucky s the scimitar lands a blow and slices deep.
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Monster S1 and S2- Greatclub / Scimitar
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Renli
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Monster Z1
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Billin
Leena
Azalia
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Monster G1
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Lymwin
Makoa
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Ducking under the swing of the massive club, Renli calls back, "Because you told me to. Now hit something!"
Stepping to the side in an effort to allow his comrades to join in the fight, Renli trusts in his innate sense of luck and, drawing his walking stick while switching his sword to his off hand, swings it at the skeletal assailant.
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Renli moves to a more advantagous spot and slams his club into the skeletal nightmare. The skeleton falls to the ground as bones are flung across the room.
As Renli smashes the skeleton the shambling undead begins to make it's way towards the party as it swings it's longsword at Mokoa with no sense of emotion. The blade sinks into the soft pieces of Mokoa's armor with ease.
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Monster S1 and S2- Greatclub / Scimitar -S1 dead
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Renli- club
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Monster Z1-longsword
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Billin
Leena
Azalia
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Monster G1
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Lymwin
Makoa
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Leena, thinks to herself as she pools energy into her sword., "Really regret not bringing a club, I guess this will have to do." Swift Action Use 1 point in Arcane Pool for + 1 enhancement to weapon for 1 minute, Standard action attack skeleton to N of Azalia.
If the skeleton falls
Move action Make a to east U to end up 2 squares north 2 squares west.
If not Leena stays put.
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Azalia moves closer to the skeleton and swings her rapier at the undead creature. Her rapier passes right through the bones of the skeleton as her blade bounces off of the ribcage.
Leena swings her scimitar at the skeleton and knows the bones loose into a pile on the floor as they cease to move nd rushes to the aid of Makoa against the shambling undead.
Billin riding Remue rush to the humanoid creature with long sharp teeth that has pallid skin stretched over it's bony frame s he swings his Morningstar at the creature striking it right in the chest as Remue's snapping jaws miss his target.
The undead creature with long sharp teeth takes a bite at billin as he tries to rake both Billin and Remue with a clawed hand also. as a clawed hand both strikes Bilin and Remue drawing blood.
+ Paralysis
+ Paralysis
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Monster S1 and S2- Greatclub / Scimitar -S1 dead and dead
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Renli
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Monster Z1-longsword
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Billin-morningstar and bite
Leena -scimitar
Azalia -rapier
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Monster G1-bite;claw;claw
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Lymwin
Makoa
