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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 museum's ills. Root it out.
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Radagast can only shake his head at the mess the Venture Captain has managed to get him into this time.
"Charming. That appears suitably forbidding... A spooky-looking museum, with some sort of spirit turning men into beasts, and all we have to do is rescue a former Pathfinder who may hold a grudge? What could possibly go wrong?"
Nonetheless, his cynicism does not stop him striding cautiously forward, scythe at the ready...
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Murdoch, a stocky dwarf with red hair smiles. He straightens out his armor** and leans forward on his scythe, giving a wide smile to all those present. "Aye, and is that all the information we have to know? I'd say a fine group of adventurers and mercenaries like us should be able to solve your problems. And the Mwangi Express you say? Well, I know a couple of friends who are certainly interested in the area. I would like to go there and uh... investigate."
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The halfling suddenly realises about the drawings on Murdoch skin. He whisppers to the man.
"I know those drawings. You better give me a reason not to tell our companions and bring you together in front of the Venture-Captain. What do you have to do with our competidors?" the apparently weak halfling talks in a very clear and determined way.
"Ah! I can only see silver-gray mist belching forth from the cavernous darkness within." the short humanoid closes his eyes and focuses on something calling his inner magical strengths, all of a sudden four small balls of light appear in his hands.
Ledt opens then his eyes and sends the dancing lights forth in front of him into the darkness. "I suppose the only way to know is to check ourselves Abaal."
The halfling steps into the museum, just exactly in the first column.
Ledt steps into the museum and feels no ill effects other than a brief cold shudder as he breathes in the mist
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Murdoch, using his scythe as a walking stick, follows behind the halfling. "Aye, it doesn't seem like this fog has any effect on you. Perhaps it is benign..."
Murdoch enters the foyer and, much like Ledt, suffers no ill effects.
I mean, I could just be rolling these dice just to make you paranoid!
As the final two Pathfinders enter the museum...something odd happens to Abaal. Hair begins to sprout in some unnatural places and he begins to hunch over.
You have gained the Mist-Tainted Template. In a nutshell:
-Your Intelligence and Charisma scores are both reduced to 6,
-You gain a +2 bonus to Strength and Dexterity scores,
-You are immune to fear,
-You gain a +10 bonus on Climb checks and a climb speed of 20 feet,
-You gain a +5 bonus on Acrobatics and Stealth checks,
-You also gain a slam attack (1d3 damage)
Don't worry...if your mission is successful you'll be back to normal by the end; in the meantime its a great role playing opportunity. Have fun with it!
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"Yeah really. You meet quite a few people when working with merchants along the Inner Sea. The guy owes me for about five shipments worth of slips as far as I'm concerned. Do you know how much Chelaxians pay to return those who escape?" He shoots an apologetic look to Ledt. "Uh... no offense intended of course. Bounties are bounties and the Order of the Chain make fine businessmen."
EDIT: As Abaal starts to spout hair, Murdoch takes a quick step back and whistles. "Now, that's not natural. He's uh, not looking so good."
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Ledt jumps to one side "Oh! So you decided to become an ape-liche all of a sudden?" the halfling goes into a defensive stance, moves to the far side of the room and takes his mage armor scroll from his scroll case.
Not waiting for the offence to start, the halfling recites the scroll and an invisible armor surrounds him.
"You now, approach to me and you will find this bolt on your front monster!" the halfling draws his crossbow and loads a bolt as he goes deeper into the museum trying to not be beaten by the Abaal-ape.
Ledt and the newly ape-like Abaal come across a door above which a placard reads “The Honored Dead” in blood-red calligraphy.
West Exhibit Hall
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.
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When a Large creature (which normally takes up 4 squares) squeezes into a space that's 1 square wide, the creature's miniature figure occupies 2 squares, centered on the line between the 2 squares. For a bigger creature, center the creature likewise in the area it squeezes into.
A creature can squeeze past a creature while moving but it can't end its movement in an occupied square.
To squeeze through or into a space less than half your space's width, you must use the Escape Artist skill. You can't attack while using Escape Artist to squeeze through or into a narrow space, you take a –4 penalty to AC, and you lose any Dexterity bonus to AC.
He says determinedly, showing his comprehension in a much bassier tone.
Then he moves (squeezes) in after the pink-haired fellow who is obviously shrinking.
As you move into the room you are greeted by the sight of several corpses rising from their undead slumber. One is a withered, mummified creature bearing a jeweled scarab on its chest among its spiced wrappings. Another is a hulking skeleton who wields a great club fashioned from a mammoth’s ivory tusk. The third is a shrunken, emaciated corpse wrapped in rotten silks holding a silvered scimitar in its bony fists. Finally there is an armored warrior clad in heavy discolored bronze plates and helm.
Initiative Order
Ledt
Murdoch
Abaal
Skeleton
Skeleton
Radagast
Ghoul
Legionnaire Undead
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The small halfling is still fighting with Abaal when he sees the undead moving "W-What's that?!" he instantly reacts by moving far away from Abaal and the undead, into a position where he has a not hampered line of sight to the skeletons.
Without hesitating, he raises his left hand while still holding his crossbow in the right one and says a simple arcane word 'xoc!'. All in a sudden the mark in his front starts to shine and a ray charged of electricity breaks the air of the chamber moving to the side the mists, towards the skeleton holding the greatclub.
As the ray hits the creature he states "Nasty, those greatclubs are dangerous."
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Blinking in surprise at the sudden movement, Murdoch looks to Abaal, looks to the undead and then grins. pointing at the undead, he quickly says, "Abaal... smash." Taking up no more time, Murdoch raises his scythe and charges with a sudden rush of curiosity and the mummylike creature, hoping to sever it's head from it's shoulders qith one swift motion of his scythe.
Crit threat...
Hopefully flatfooted that confirms...
If the crit confirmed add this much damage...
Murdoch attacks the legionnaire…utterly decimating it before it has a chance to lumber from its slumber. Not to be outdone, Ledt turns one of the skeletons into a pile of bones. The slightly larger Abaal cuts into the ghoul who is unluckily not prepared for the attack. Suddenly alone, the remaining skeleton raises his scimitar and slashes at the oversized ape-man and misses by a wide margin.
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The halfling sorcerer jumps in panic on seeing Abaal crushing the undead around "Oh no! What a beast! Gods of the Mist, stop this craziness! You will not feed anymore from those undeads evil ape!", he runs farther away and points to the skeleton figure next to Abaal firing another ray of electrical energy that thunders through the chamber.
Now that the undead are dead once again you discover another corpse; a Mwangi warrior, his body preserved in hot mud, stands against the wall of the exhibit hall. In his hands he clutches a bone-handled kukri with a jade carved blade. (Treat as as Masterwork Kurki.)
The ghoul wears a scarab that acts as a feather token (bird), meant to deliver his last will and testament to his ancestors. One of the skeletons carries a masterwork greatclub, the other an masterwork alchemical silver scimitar.
While examining and dividing up the spoils of your victory, you hear hoarse screams for help coming from the next room. (Area 3).
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Abaal does a quick victory dance over the fallen undead before recalling what decorum means.
Then without wasting a moment races toward the excitement.