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The noonday sun shines brightly in a cloudless sky, but the rugged landscape diffuses the light as if through a stained glass window composed entirely of crimson panes. Deep red metal walls, broken but mostly untouched by rust even a millennium, form an obstacle course through the landscape. Clearly, when the Red Redoubt of Karamoss was named, it was not done ironically.
The marked path through the siege castle’s ruins leads to a large central chamber open to the sky above. Aside from the metallic flooring, walls, and rubble, nothing remains of the so-called “machine mage” Karamoss or his lost armies. Refuse, old campfire rings, and other signs of life attest to the place being a haven for scavengers and vagabonds.
The chamber is filled with a large, circular shaft in the metal floor, with smoothly rolled edges that demonstrate superbly uniform craftsmanship. A rope ladder descends into the pit, anchored by pitons hammered into the floor panels.
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Aetherys is a lithe elven girl bearing long, well-kept blond hair flowing down to her waist. Some of it is braided, with small clasps respresenting the Dawnflower. Her eyes are deep blue, and she hardly ever blinks. At her side, a black-bladed scimitar rests, engraved with arabesque. She nods at Marra, silently meaning she'll go down first into the pit. "Glad to have you at my side again, Marra. Let's hope we can once again be successful in our mission." At the same moment, the black scimitar seems to glow slightly, as if it was greeting the halfling devout of Sarenrae.
Victorious Crusader,
I have received exciting news from the front: Mendev's crusaders have pushed back the abyssal armies and razed several of their strongholds! It is too early to declare that we have won a war, but this is another battle in which we have triumphed. For the first time in a year, it seems Mendev is secure.
Despite the lull, I know that Queen Galfrey will not allow her troops to grow so overconfident that they miss any demonic counterattack.
Please accept my heartfelt thanks for your contributions. Without the Pathfinder Society's assistance, we might not have won several key battles, including the fight for Nerosyan itself. Tales of our courage shall follow the crusaders home, where these stories will feed the imaginations of a new generation of heroes. This is not lost on the Society's leaders, and in addition to written promises of aid in future causes, I can tell that behind their unfeeling masks, they have witnessed the good that comes from aiding a holy cause—I am certain! Were we only to have another monumental cause to unite the Society! Fortunately, there is no obvious candidate—fortunate because the benefits are not worth the mortal costs. Those who died in Mendev left behind broken families, and some of those who are returning home are finding no home to return to. Crimes on a smaller scale afflict the land, and a host of lesser battles remain to be fought. We must turn our focus homeward to show that we can also be soldiers of peace.
As you travel Golarion, remember that the Society's reputation is not the only thing worth redeeming. A thief may steal to feed her family or to fuel misguided dreams of easy riches, but even one who appears evil is not beyond redemption. Show charity to the needy, and open the eyes of criminals, that they might cast aside their present misfortunes and pursue a virtuous life.
That all may know peace,
Ollysta Zadrian
The trip to Karamoss, out from Absalom through that siege fortress dotted patch of hinterland called the Cairnlands brought back memories to some. Earlier this day, as the adventurers sat idle at the Pig's Paunch, a letter was delivered, from none other than Ambrus Valsin.
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"Greetings to you, fellow Pathfinders," a human female says to the group, bringing her closed right fist to her open left hand and bowing from her waist. She wears light brown and white monk robes - loose fitting to allow maximum movement and yet covering almost all of her young body. She carries two pair of wooden rods connected by a thin cord but no other weapons. She is a young human female - barely into adulthood. And yet there is a sense of purpose, or perhaps destiny, about her, in her serious manner and formal language. "I am Adrianna Na'lin, a student of the art of combat. I am honored to join this expedition."
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A cheerful halfling less than 3ft tall dressed in dark comfortable garb and two small scimatars at her belt, looks up with a friendly smile.
"Good to see you Aethery and Dawnblade again! Welcome Adrianna! I'm Marra a follower of Sarenrae trained in the art of her Dawnflower Dervish. Isn't it great that the Pathfinders are giving us actual training, rather than leaning on the job. That's a sign of a first class organization!"
Along the trip to Karamoss, Marra shares what she knows or learned during the research preparations.
The Red Redoubt of Karamoss was a siege castle created more than 1,000 years ago by the “machine mage” Karamoss in a failed attempt to conquer Absalom. Karamoss’s armies included initial waves of hobgoblins, followed by legions of strangely intelligent constructs. After several years and some close calls, the fight turned against Karamoss and the Redoubt fell.
While the Redoubt has no permanent residents, bandits, outcasts, or the occasional monster sometimes use it as a lair. Infighting for territory among these groups usually nullifies their threat, so Absalom’s authorities don’t interfere. One band known to lair in the ruins there is the Blood-Red Raiders, a small gang of bandits that mostly robs lone travellers.
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Marra shares what she learned about The Red Redoubt "The Red Redoubt of Karamoss was a siege castle created more than 1,000 years ago by the “machine mage” Karamoss in a failed attempt to conquer Absalom. Karamoss’s armies included initial waves of hobgoblins, followed by legions of strangely intelligent constructs. After several years and some close calls, the fight turned against Karamoss and the Redoubt fell."
Continuing "Even so we are going for training, there is still the possible threat from bandits, outcasts, or the occasional monster. One band known to lair in the ruins there is the Blood-Red Raiders, a small gang of bandits that mostly robs lone travelers."
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A brown-skinned gnome runs up, shouting "Wait for me! Sorry! I'm late!". On reaching the group, he takes a moment to catch his breath, then bows, so deeply that the short scarf hung loosely across his shoulders, its bright red colour clashing garishly with his leaf-green hair, almost brushes the ground. "Cacumattus Diuberr, explorer and adventurer, at your service."
Karamoss was a Numerian wizard known as the “Machine Mage.” He had advanced knowledge of mechanical constructs, gained from decades of study within the Silver Mount. He was said to be part machine himself.
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Cacumattus grins at Adrianna. "I'm glad you like it, hopefully it will make it more pleasant when you're yelling for me to rescue you from some malformed monstrosity." Or yelling at me for angering one...
"Actually I suppose they'd be mechanical monstrosities in this place. I wonder if we'll discover whether the Machine Mage Karamoss was really part machine himself like the legends say! Always seemed far-fetched to me, I bet he was just using some illusion spell to make himself look that way."
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Aetherys nods at the the gnome, appreciative of the bits of knowledge he's able to share. "Part machine himself? Seems dubious, though it is known that wizards have attempted to find many ways to immortality. Regardless, I wonder what we'll find inside. Let's head inside, shall we?"
Once everyone is ready, Aetherys will go down the rope ladder.
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The Ulfen shieldmaiden of rather dubious heritage adjusts her sword in its scabbard as if to verify it is still there. Satisfied with the feeling of the steel under her hand she tussles with a loose braid. Her holy symbol to Torag
Diplomacy
"Not many people spoke to me about this place when I was on the way over, I kept talking to them about the wisdom of Ragathiel, and they weren't welcoming..." she looks a bit downtrodden "Nevermind, we'll see soon enough"
Boram can attest to the facts that Cacumattus just mentioned.
Karamoss was a Numerian wizard known as the “Machine Mage.” He had advanced knowledge of mechanical constructs, gained from decades of study within the Silver Mount. He was said to be part machine himself.
The entrance shaft opens into the center of a red steel chamber. The floor beneath the shaft is canted at a slight angle; it seems to have originally been a circular platform that fit flush with the rest of the room but at some point unevenly sank a foot or so. The floors around the room’s perimeter are solid and even, with a textured surface to give better footing on the smooth metal. The walls are riveted metal plates, fallen or torn off in places to reveal solid rock behind. Recessed slabs of metal with adjacent panels, presumably exits, are centered on each wall. The northern panel glows dimly, illuminating scorch marks and glistening red stains around it.
There are five doors to this room, four of which are marked with the three dots for 'do not enter'.
Boram quickly figures out that the stains near the glowing panel are dye, not blood. Neither he nor Marra find any traps here.
The door is easy to push open.
Behind the door is a long, red corridor, which, after taking as much as five minutes to traverse, branches in four directions. North and west, the tunnels continue unobstructed, but the eastern branch is blocked with a stout metal grating marked with three crimson circles within a triangle. A large, white “X” is scrawled in chalk on the floor in the center of the intersection.
Ever wary of death from above, Boram looks up, but sees only red ceiling.
Cacumattus sees nothing special, but there is an aura of illusion on the walls just here.
Looking to the ground this time, Boram sees a little tripwire just before the intersection marked with an 'X'
Fortunately for the halfling, he doesn't have to save face, as he easily disarms the trap mechanism.
The eastern branch is blocked with a grating and marked with the sign for 'do not enter', but the northern and western branches are readily accessible.
The corridor to the west is good for another ten minute stroll. An L-shaped corridor makes a right angle from the east to north. Just around the bend a dead half-orc sprawls on the ground. Above the corpse, a wooden sledgehammer dangles from a rope beneath an open ceiling panel. Though the head of the mallet is padded, the trap was apparently still lethal to the unfortunate half-orc. A few feet up the corridor another chalk “X” is scratched on the floor.
Boram finds no other traps for which this one may have been a decoy. It looks like the half-orc ran into this one, an fit became his undoing.
Odd indeed. There trap seems to have sprung, though, and the adventurer's checks yield little.