A veteran Pathfinder exploring the Fenwall Mountains of Varisia has begun sleepwalking, traveling through the dead of night in the same direction each time. The following mornings, however, he awakens injured and lost in the wilderness, never reaching the mysterious destination that drew him from his bed in the night. Something is calling Kalkamedes, something powerful, but unless he can make it safely to the source of his somnambulism, that power will remain a mystery. It falls to a team of Pathfinders to escort the sleepwalker to his destination and uncover the true nature of the strange phenomenon overtaking Kalkamedes's dreams.
Written by Michael Kortes.
This is a private - by invite only - game
Everyone should take a minute and post your character introductions. Please include any quirky combats things you do (i know... core level 1-2 there isn't much quirk.)
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What appears to be an Elven child is sitting on a chair, feet dangling off the floor and swinging back and forth.
Last contact didn't mention anything about co-conspirators.. I'll have to just play this one with everyone in the dark.. What could the Company be wanting with this old veteran, Kalkamedes?.. Do they think he's turned for the Consortium?
She seems confident, smiling at everyone and making naive eye contact.
"Hi! I'm Mirima! I'm a prodigy, are you a prodigy too?" She asks the person next to her.
Maybe this isn't about Kalkamedes, but one of these other Pathfinder agents...
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Ver'Yanion eyes the little creature trying to disguise itself as an elf, and raises an eyebrow. "Prodigy? I don't know about that. I've been around a while, and decided it was time to get out into the world and see what is what. No, any rumors you may have heard about me getting into trouble with the authorities in Kyonin. Just because I was trying to force an Aiudara to let me use it without the proper keys? Mere oversight... just forgot the codes at home, honestly!"
He looks the small 'elf' over again, and winks in a conspiritorial way.
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"Wow, I didn't know they let kids into the Society. What're ya, my age?" says another energetic gnome. "M'name's Krixit - ya better drink lots of milk to get big and strong like me!" She flexes.
"You have about the right of it, gettin' out into the world. Just think of the fights we could have! None of this 'guard this, guard that' business, am I right?" She elbows Ver'Yanion and waggles her eyebrows.
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"What do you know! We probably are the same age! My mother always said I grew a palette for wine as soon as I could reach the table, that must be why I have always had agility of tongue rather than sword." Mirima drops off the chair and flexes her arm, "Geez, if I can't talk us out of it, I'm running behind you ma'am."
She then turns to the gate hacking Elf next to her. Losing things and forgot the proper chevron code for an Aiudara? I'm keeping an eye on this one.. "You gotta tell me about the Aiudara! What's it like walking through it?!" Mirima looks up at Ver'Yanion almost jumping in excitement.
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A greasy-haired, muted-green skinned, rather decent looking half-orc in scale mail and carrying a backpack full of every possible thing one could imagine, slowly walks in under the weight of all his gear.
"Oh, sorry, I must be in the wrong place..."
He walks out of the place, looking at the sign just outside, and then walks back in a bit confused, and out of breath.
Am I really being sent on a mission with a bunch of gnomes and elves!? Well they did say I needed to cooperate, and my momma did say to adopt a smile when things get tough.
Smiling wide, "Guess I'm in the right place after all. My name is Blood Oxe, and I'll here be your equipment purveyor and dealer-with-device-guy extraordinaire!"
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"Dealer-with-device-guy, Mr. Oxe? I am pretty sure I had that role down pretty well already. After all, it is a well known fact that elves have far more nimble fingers than the orc-blooded. Or I think that it is well know. No bother. Forget I even mentioned it. But, still, I have that role down very well. No lock unpicked, no trap unsprung. No-sir. To think that the guards that my set of skills meant that I was a criminal. They couldn't see that those elderly elves really needed me to get into the locked medicine cabinet. After all, they were to weak to get up to take their medicine. As a matter of fact, I saved there lives!"
Suddenly, Ver'Yanion feels the weight of the eyes in the room on him. "What did I say?"
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A well dressed, short eared elven woman with short cut, black hair and deep eyes observed the room. Calm and messured are her eyes and meaningful are all of her motions. Mounted on her ears are metal dangling to make chimes whenever she moved too quickly, which didn't seem like that would happen anytime soon. Her clothing is fine and form fitting with the back exposed to tattoos of webbed wings. Though her feet are adorned with leather boots, they still look to be a fine make.
She sits, observing, till she found a proper brake in the conversation. "Evening, comrades. I am Azdaja, the Black. I assume we all will fair well in the coming task." as before, she returned to observing and waiting. Internally she holds back her thoughts of the company or the mild rage for having to be here at all.
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"I'm pretty sure ya admitted to grand larceny, but that's okay. The Exchange takes all types," Krixit replies cheerfully.
"And it's not bad to know how to pick locks. I mean, I know how to too! It's just tricky in all this armor. It's better to have a time for pickin' and a time for kickin'... butts, that is."
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Blood Oxe guffaws loudly, "Ain't that the truth Krixit!"
An' Ver'Yan..." Oh good Desna, how do I pronounce his name again? I am not fond of the weird names Elves often use
"...ion, you may have nimble fingers, but t'ain't nuthin' my great axe can't smash if I a mind to it."
He guffaws loudly again, "Just so happens though, I don' usually have a mind ta smash ya see. Tha's why I carry all this stuff... can't be too prepared mind you."
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"I understand... what was the name again? Should we call you Blood, Oxe, or something else? Never quite sure how the more... abrubt... folk wish to be called. Wouldn't want to insult you, and have to bear your smashing ways, you know."
He addresses Azdaja as she comes in. "Azdaja, glad to see another from our homelands here. I apologize if I have it wrong, and you are not from Kyonin... and if you are not, you should visit. It is a lovely land... full of wonder and elves! We've still got that little issue about Treerazer, but I am sure the folks there will figure it out soon. I mean, it wasn't like I am here to keep from being enlisted to fight the demons, after all... I would never fail to help those in need. Of course not!"
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She looks over the elf with both curiosity and repulse. "My kind are not welcome in Kyonin. Nor do I see myself mixed in with the like." Azdaja left the statement there. What good is a highly offensive elf with a likely hood to talk one to death first have any good with a mission with the Pathfinders? An organization this large must have surivablity.
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"Ver, may I call you Ver?" Blood Oxe shakes his head and gufaws loudly, "Call me Blood Oxe like it's one word."
Blood Oxe then looks over at the finely dressed elf, "Well Ms the Black, ne'er worry, I'm not allowed in Ver's homeland either! Ha!" And then guffaws loudly again.
"Pleased to be Makin all yer aquaintances!"
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'Something seems off here, almost like we're missing something. Damn I could go for a cigarette, maybe I'll get a moment alone.. at least elven youths get plenty of wine.'
Mirima fidgets for a moment as the group sizes each other up. "It's a pleasure to meet such an.. uh, eclectic group. I'm sure we all have our unique ways of opening doors..axes, lockpicks, magic, lies.." 'What am I talking about?'
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A tall female half-orc walks in. Along one arm peaking beneath her leather armor you can see part of a depiction of a dark demonic creature. Along the other you see a mirrored angelic likeness.
With a slight bow "Cratis, Cleric of Nethys, here to provide my assistance. Shall we get started?" Cratis says, locking eyes with each member of the party in turn.
Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch glances out a window as the last wisps of twilight fade over the Fenwall Mountains. Turning from the sight, she runs her hand along the rustic cabin’s wall and stands beside an occupied wooden bed before addressing you.
“This,” the venture captain says, gesturing to the man thrashing around violently, straining against the bonds that lash him securely to the bed, “is our colleague, Kalkamedes. Every night for several weeks now, he has fallen into a deep slumber and tried to sleepwalk right out of his cottage. If not restrained, he marches straight north, eventually falling off a cliff or into a bog as if trying to get himself killed in an attempt to reach an unknown goal.” As though he were expressing disagreement, the man tied to the bed suddenly begins pumping his limbs even harder, the violent spasms threatening to smash the bed into splinters. “There are those who have recently criticized the Pathfinders for our indifference to the plight of our fellow field agents. It’s time to show that’s not true. I want you to help Kalkamedes, whether he wants it or not. Several of our best spellcasters have attempted an extensive list of magical cures, but whatever sleepwalking curse or effect he’s under tenaciously resists our efforts. All we can do is keep him safe.” Heidmarch pats him with a degree of professional affection, and Kalkamedes rewards her by trying to swat her with his head.
“Kalkamedes’s friends are at their wits’ end, so we are going to attempt the only thing that we have not tried: we’re going to let him go tonight. That’s where you come in. I want you to follow him and keep him safe and in one piece. Let him get to wherever his addled brain thinks he needs to go so badly. Maybe, just maybe, if he gets there, you can find a way to help him. Maybe you can determine who or what did this to him and find a way to undo it.” Heidmarch pulls out a serrated knife. “Now before I cut him free, does anyone have any questions or last minute preparations?”
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"Venture-Captain... in the nature of your 'kinder, gentler Pathfinder Society', what equipment do you have to enable us, a group of very green Pathfinders, to do our jobs? I mean, I am pretty well prepared, but there is only so much you can afford as a trainee, you know." Ver'Yanion gives smile as he looks around the room, looking for anything that would be of use.
"Oh, and why would you waste good rope? Why don't we just untie him?"
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Blood Oxe looks back over his shoulder at all his stuff, and looks at Ver, wounded, "Why do we need more stuff?"
Hearing Mirama's query, Blood Oxe thinks for a moment and starts looking around the room, "Don't know why I did'n think of it before Miri, but he might have left some clues around here!" And guffaws loudly at himself.
“I have little that would be any use, but I believe Kalkamedes would forgive your making use of anything in his cabin.”
Yup - he's cursed alright.
"Whatever did this is powerful. Whether it be man beast outsider or artifact. As always be careful"
Blood Oxe searches the kitchen, and inside the stove he finds a crumpled piece of paper . Also, he finds a hidden level behind the stove, which releases the catch to a hidden compartment concealed in the floor under a stack of water barrels. Inside is a locked metal chest.
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Blood Oxe guffaws loudly, "Good one Miri! I'm in! Ver, you think you can take me?!"
Blood Oxe sets his backpack of stuff on the ground gently, so as not to damage any of Kalkamedes' house, and takes off his scale mail. Cracking his fingers and cricking his neck, he smiles broadly as he takes out his masterwork theive's tools and goes to work on the chest.
Guffawing, "Ha! No idea if that did it, but why don't you try to open it, and if it failed, try these picks Krixit!"
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Krixit's voice sounds muffled, as she is partway through taking off her scale mail. "'us' a sec'nd! Mmph!" The armor falls to the floor with a distinct thud.
"Alright! Let me at it!" Krixit tries the box, testing out her unlocking skills.
"Uh... I guess I'm a bit rusty!" she says after a moment of fiddling.
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Ver'Yanion shakes his head at the other two... And moves up to give it a go himself..
"Really, it is easy. First you slide this little bit up here... then twiddle this other little bit there... Back to the first sliver, and then... " click!
"There, not a problem for nimble finger and a nimble mind!"
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"Ooo, nice technique, Master Thief!" She grins and reaches for the box - and then pulls her hands away. "The honors are all yours, dishonorable one."
She looks around at the others. "Could, uh, someone lend me a hand getting this mess back on?" Krixit glances at the struggling man on the bed. "Before he manages to break free."
You read in a chronicle...Kalkamedes is a veteran Pathfinder, though his fame does not extend beyond southern Varisia. Although he is now semi-retired and only forwards the occasional report to the Decemvirate these days, his colleagues continue to respect him for his many prior accomplishments.
Blood Oxe tinkers with the chest... Krixit takes a turn finding it still locked but partially completed... and manages to lock it fully again.... To which Ver takes a swing at and and a satisfying *click* is soon heard.
The chest contains: Magic Bracers, a magic mud-splattered cloak, a magic vial of liquid, a gourd with magic liquid, a mithral flask with magical liquid (that doubles as a caltrop or dagger), and a magical broken longsword with a crack down the center of its blade.
"We do not have time to waste. Look at him! I don't think he can take much more of this, so i need you to get out there tonight. One way or another- we're going to settle this and cure him." the venture captain annoyedly chastises Ver.
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"Well, Ok then. Sir, yes Sir!" he replies, giving a mock salute with the sword in hand.
If the weapon has a sheath, he puts it on. No thought is given by the elf that someone else might want the blade, or that any discussion is needed about who would wield it.
"What's this other stuff?"
He'll try to figure out what sort of effect each of the liquids have by touching his finger in, smelling, and at last resort, tasting.
"Can anyone tell me what this cloak does?" he considers for a moment putting the cloak on, but pauses as all eyes are on him.
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"Alright Ver'Yanion! Way to go! You win the grand prize of suiting Kalkamedes up in all this stuff for his big reenactment tonight!"
Mirima then noves over to Cratis and the note, "Written in anything fun? Did I hear you say curse by the way? Maybe this is the spent up spell.." She gets on her tiptoes to get a glance at the smudged words.
The party discrens no further knowledge feom the note.
Venture Captain Heidmarch looks on with a tinge of impatience. "are you ready?" she holds a knife near the bindings on Kalkamedes.
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The elf cringes at what looks to be an outright waste of good rope. "Ready? Wait. Can we release him, Lady Heidmarch? Let's put a lead on him, maybe some 20 feet or so of rope, as that he can't run away. Maybe one the burlier among us could hold on to it."
He then sheathes the broken sword, and says, "We should make sure someone has all of this gear." If no one takes them, he puts the cloak on, and then puts the potions away. He doesn't, however, fret if someone takes any of that.
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Discreetly, Azdaja casts detect magic at the strange sword Ver'Yanion was holding after he made a bit of fuss. If there is something to the sword, she'll consider saying something to someone more educated about arcane things than she is. Otherwise, she stays out of the way of her cohorts. No need to get her hands dirty if she doesn't have to.