Open for dotting.
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On a warm day, you suddenly hear a crash of thunder, as a massive dark cloud seems to appear from nowhere. Within it, a few sudden strikes of lighting send small lights out from the cloud, then suddenly something seems to break from the cloud, not falling as much as launching towards the ground.
I small comet, leaving a dark grey cloud of smoke in it's wake before it smashes to the ground not far from you, rocking the Golarion's ground around you and sending a cloud of dust up. Up in the heavens, that strange thundercloud begins to dissipate, revealing for but a moment what seems to be a rainbow before it to is gone. Closed off as if by magic like it was never there.
Than you hear movement from inside the dust, and a tall man walks out, looking confused and much worn for wear, though clearly if he, if it, survived that fall, perhaps not as bad as one might expect.
He is wearing strange armor, covered in runes that seem at a glance similar to those used by Dwarves, but these you can not understand. He glances at you, but doesn't seem concerned or threatened by your presence, then shakes of the dust, Mktte!!!", he utters in some sort of guttural voice, when suddenly a massive throwing hammer flies from the cloud behind him and lands perfectly in his hand.
Looking about for signs of whatever scrap he had just been in, he says something to you in a sideways fashion that seems to be a question, "Welches Land ist das? Midgard?", but then suddenly stops. "No, I know this realm. And I seem to be stuck here. . ."
As far as you can tell, the man seems to be an Ulfen, though even taller and bulkier than they are known for. He wields a massive hammer with ease, one that most would require both hands for if at all, and seems to be wearing some sort of armor, roughly equivalent to perhaps a breast plate or scale mail, but seems more like an odd combination of each, and even odder than those peculiar Tiens. Otherwise he seems to have very little, a small backpack, and 8 kegs of what smells like various strong alcohols.
"You, mortal of the lands of Golar, I need your help discerning why I have been brought here. The Nine Worlds are in grave peril."
After your last mission, Master of Spells Aram Zey sent you on an urgent but low-risk mission to deliver supplies to Varisian refugees. Your route takes you through southern Nidal, and soon after starting out on the road one morning a giant bird lands in the middle of the road before you, barring progress.
The bird speaks:
"Greetings, my fellow Pathfinders. Please excuse the eccentricity of my form, but my visit must be swift; I have vital tasks to complete before the moon turns. In the meantime, I have a quick errand for you."
"I have an a contact — a metallurgist named Adle — working out of a smelly little mining town in the Menador Mountains, just south of here. One of the locals sold her a silver ingot scribed with strange runes, and she’s asked for an expert eye to look it over. Go have a look, take a rubbing, and make a few notes; Adle’s eyes are keen and I owe her the favor. Perhaps make her an offer on the ingot; I will reimburse you
within reason."
"Adle works in a mining town called Stom’s Claim, on the edge of Silver Tarn. The surrounding area is untamed wilderness, hostile even to one as gifted in the ways of nature as I, so stick close to the marked roads. That region of the Menadors isn’t called ‘the Maze’ for nothing. Shouldn’t be more than two days’ delay in your travels, at most. Each way."
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"Two days, hum. I see, and think I might not have much choice but to accept your quest, little Osprey-bird. We are to seek an odd stone with magic writings from a metalworker named Adle, see if she might be willing to sell the stone. Is there anything else we should know?"
"Oh, and which way is this Stom's Claim?"
Osprey shares a bit more:
“This artifact may pertain to my own research. The region was once home to ancient Kellid tribes, and the Taldan military campaigned nearby when Cheliax was first settled. This may be an artifact of either group,or of some bizarre new culture. Whatever the truth, it
bears at least a cursory examination. It seems that you agree, and to be honest I really am curious to know more."
"The mountains doesn’t support many large predators or dangerous creatures. No, your only true enemy is the mountains themselves: the valleys and ridges twist and switch back without rhyme or reason, and travelers often disappear for weeks at a time. A few tales of desperate cannibalism come from this region for justthat reason. But Adle assures me the road to Stom’s Claim is well marked. Assuming you don’t try to take shortcuts, you should be fine. The hamlet lies to the south, follow the path over there."
He gestures with a wing.
"As for Courone Adle, she once fancied herself a Pathfinder, but the romance fell out of her life and she’s become much more practical over the years. Used to be a slave to an Egorian whitesmith years ago, which gives her a good eye for valuables and antiques. Don’t mention the scars; she’s a touch sensitive."
"I'm sorry I don't know more. I haven't personally explored this region before. I am trusting your abilities as senior agents."
Knowledge (geography)
Knowledge (history or local)
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Vladek lights up on seeing the conspicuously engaged bird. "Ah! At last we meet the famous Osprey!"
"Yes, I'm familiar with The Maze - familiar enough to hope that perhaps we would be watched over in case anything should go too awry? Besting a wicked Kuthite diabolist in a duel of arcane wit is one thing, but I'm no mountaineer, and I don't care to trust myself to the altruism of Cheliax and Nidal."
"Come to think of it, this part of the world is...really not a good monument to the Human people at all, really."
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Scampering up behind the party is an unkempt gnome in comfortable, shabby robes and short boots. He carries a haversack nearly bulging with all manner of mundane equipment.
Oh! he exclaims. A talking bird! That's something you don't see every day, you know! he says to no one in particular. Fascinating! You know, some birds talk to each other, but it's exceedingly uncommon for them to talk to other species in such a manner. Remarkable!
After a moment of studying the bird, he turns to Thor. Er, Lazlo Ugarte, at your service. Um...I'm sorry, I wasn't really paying attention...what did he say?
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"Yes, I'm familiar with The Maze - familiar enough to hope that perhaps we would be watched over in case anything should go too awry? Besting a wicked Kuthite diabolist in a duel of arcane wit is one thing, but I'm no mountaineer, and I don't care to trust myself to the altruism of Cheliax and Nidal."
"Fear not. I shall have your back. But, if you know something, please do share.
After a moment of studying the bird, he turns to Thor. Er, Lazlo Ugarte, at your service. Um...I'm sorry, I wasn't really paying attention...what did he say?
"And I am Thor, friend, honored to fight at your side.
But, from the sounds of it, there will shall not be much fighting to look forward too.", he says with an obvious disappointment. "Still, the fates often have odd plans for us, so we shall see."
After Osprey takes his leave, the party readies to travel. Thor offers to help, wirling his hammer overhead and carrying the party aloft.
Otherwise, travel to the Silver Tarn is uneventful, despite the isolated location.
Amid the twisting dales and dark mountain passes of the Maze, a long, black lake dominates a small, muddy valley surrounded by collapsed granite outcroppings. At the lake’s edge, a glorified hamlet of canvas tents and crude log buildings squats in the mud, much of the surrounding area stripped of trees and ground scrub. As the sun sets and the air cools, a fog begins to rise as the light drizzle that has marked the last day picks up into a steady rainfall.
The sun sets fast in the mountains, and in the half-hour it takes to travel from the valley entrance to the edge of Stom’s Claim the air cools almost 10 degrees Fahrenheit and the light level drops to darkness.
Thick fog limits visibility to a mere two dozen feet, but the distant clang of a nearby iron bell provides enough consistency to navigate by. Eerily silent tents and rough log buildings line the streets at irregular intervals. Roughly carved wooden signs regularly point through the tangle of streets to what must be the most vital locations: “Public House,” “Lake,” and — most importantly — “Assayer.”
Just as the outline of the sturdily-built structure solidifies from the grimy mists, the sound of splintering wood fills the air, followed by a woman’s scream and gurgling, inhuman growls.
The door to the office has been smashed, and you rush inside!
The three hunched, scaly beasts bear a tenuous resemblance to the human form that only the maddest of Egorian sculptors might imitate. Their gangly bodies stagger on two legs, as if they were unaccustomed to standing. Drool leaks through a mouthful of crooked, needlelike fangs, and the stench of rotting fish fills the room. The horrors turn away from the panicked woman cowering near the far corner of the room. The beasts' mouths drop open and a gurgling howl shakes the timbers of the large workspace!
Round One: Fight!
Roary
Xiaobo
Enemies
Vladek
Lazlo
Thor
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Xiaobo will 5ft diagnal up and left and flurry of manuevers.
Starting at the right and moving around to the guy on other side of counter who will have partial cover. The 1d6 is acid damage
Guy on right
if tripped then get attacks
Guy on left
if tripped then get attacks
Guy behind counter
if tripped then get attacks
Xiaobo steps up and unleashes a flurry of manuevers!
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The first creature is tripped, and then badly wounded.
The second one (left) is nearly knocked down, but manages to keep its feet.
The third is tripped and both blows slam into its side, causing serious injury.
Roary springs into actions, and with his first cut slays the creature he's adjacent to.
The prone Tarnspawn unleashes a Terrifying Howl!
Meanwhile, the standing creature bites and claws at Xiaobo!
The bite and one claw get through the monk's defenses!
Round 1:
Roary
Xiaobo
Enemies
Vladek
Lazlo
Thor
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Not carring for the creature's scare tactics, Ill rush towards the large beast right in front of Xiaobo, slamming my hammer down.
-Posted with Wayfinder
While Vladek's Hex only slows the creature a little, Lazlo's spell coats it in sparkly dust and blinds it!
Vladek's familiar also hurts the downed Tarnspawn with its spell.
Thor moves in, but his blow rebounds off the creature's thick hide.
Round 2:
Xiaobo
Roary
Tarnspawn
Vladek
Lazlo
Thor
effects that affect animals. A tarnspawn is allowed a Will save to
resist spells and effects that specifically affect animals, even if
the effect does not normally allow a Will save.
Soul Feast (Su) As a standard action, a tarnspawn may attempt
to drink the soul from any adjacent humanoid creature killed
within the last round, storing the life force inside itself to carry
back to the Silver Tarn entity. Draining a soul is a touch attack
that provokes an attack of opportunity. A tarnspawn may only
store a single soul, and cannot use this ability if it has already
feasted on a soul. A creature whose soul has been imbibed
may not be returned from the dead with any magic short of a
limited miracle. Slaying the tarnspawn releases the stored soul,
allowing the character to be raised normally. If the tarnspawn
returns to the Silver Tarn, both it and the soul are absorbed by
the entity, permanently slaying both.
Spit Bile (Ex) Tarnspawn may spit a stream of acidic bile up to 40
feet as a ranged attack.
-Posted with Wayfinder
As Xiaobo trips, kicks, and throws one Tarnspawn, Roary is able to finish it with some powerful sword blows!
The last creature tries to stand up!
-Posted with Wayfinder
Xiaobo crushes the monster's windpipe, ending the threat.
The woman looks up at you, appearing unsure if she should trust you yet...
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Setting his hammer down as he looks to the terrified woman, "Its okay, little miss. You are safe now. Did they hurt you?"
If so, Ill heal her best I can.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Fiend's blood is, by definition, Evil incarnate - but swallowing codliver oil does not make one a fish."
Vladek looks at the former damsel-in-distress with concern, then turns to the party and speaks in a hushed tone. "It's a good thing they were no match for us in combat - I've heard of those things, and hoped that they weren't real. I'm not certain just what we're up against, but I see the maw of Abaddon at the bottom of all this. The souls of everyone in this settlement, literally, may be in terminal peril."
As Thor speaks to her, the halfling woman catches her breath and hesitantly crawls out from beneath the table.
"Thank you for dispatching those...things. No, I wasn't injured, thankfully. You wouldn't happen to be the folks Osprey sent?"
Assuming you answer in the affirmative:
"Nice to know you. I'm Courone Adle, he assayer around here. I'll tell you, I think there's more to this valley than silver and
a stinking lake.”
She points to the creature Lazlo is inspecting:
“Those things are… Well, I’m not sure, really. They’ve been coming out of the tarn for the past three nights, but their numbers have grown each night. We’ve already lost a dozen miners, and these… tarn-spawned horrors have never been this bold. Even the weather’s been getting worse. And I think it all comes down to these."
She brushes a few notes from a low work bench and pulls aside a gunny sack. Beneath shines a perfect silver ingot, it’s surface peppered with a flowing, swirling script.
“I’ve identified the writing,” Adle continues. “It’s Celestial, the language of angels. From what little I’ve translated, it looks like a ward. Two names come up again and again: Aroden, and
something called Nicoroux.”
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"Nicoroux was a pit fiend, mighty even among their ranks, who mysteriously went missing about 1,000 Golarion-years ago."
A look of genuine worry crosses Vladek's face - he's beginning to form an hypothesis or two, and presently takes solace in his lack of data to confirm them.
"Umm...where do the miners find these? I mean, in the mines, of course, but these obviously aren't just pried out of natural veins in the earth."
Courone's face blanches as Vladek reveals what he knows about Nicoroux.
"You're right there, friend elf. These weren't pried out of the mines. They were found when the miners began dredging the lake..."
It seems your thoughts on the subject mirror my own. I think the church of Aroden bound something here, below the lake. Something big. And I think these silver bricks were part of that binding."
"When the miners dredged them out of the lake it was like pulling bars from a prison window: this Nicoroux can’t escape yet, but I think it’s reaching out with those tarnspawn, and I think if it claims enough miners, it’ll be able to break free. There’s an old Arodenite temple nearby. If anything explains how to restore the binding, it’ll be in that temple."
"There’s, uh… There is a slight problem, though. If this is indeed a binding for some powerful creature, we’ll need all the original elements to reseal it. My bar is only the first the miners recovered. They’ve uncovered five more over the past few weeks. We need those bars before we can do anything. Most everyone has been holing up in the public house since the attacks started — it’s the sturdiest building in town. We need to get the rest of these ingots from the miners before we do anything."