The strange city of Carrion Hill has long loomed over the surrounding swamps in eastern Ustalav, yet its rulers have shifted many times through the centuries. Often enough that only a few sinister scholars and curious minds know the true nature of the hill’s original inhabitants—vile and depraved cultists of the Old Gods. Yet this morning, a dreadful recrudescence rises from the depths of buried nightmare in the vaults below Carrion Hill. A monster stalks the twisted alleys of the city, spreading panic before it and leaving destruction in its wake. Can the Carrion Hill Horror be stopped?
"We shall be paid with blessings from the Dawnflower for abolishing this horrible evil."
You find yourselves in the Vodavani Lodge in Caliphas, capital city of Ustalav. Sitting at his desk before you is Venture-Captain Beaurigmand Trice, though he just prefers to be called Dr. Trice. "Agents, I've gathered you here this morning because of an urgent missive from a compatriot of mine, Vanton Heggry, mayor of Carrion Hill.
It seems something dire has happened in his city and he needs people experienced in investigation, problem solving, combat and more to figure out the mystery of what happened. I'm sad to say I don't have much more information to give you at the moment and I'm too busy helping the lodge recover other Agents that have disappeared to help myself. All I can do is teleport you close to the city and point you in the right direction, hopefully Vanton will have more information for you once you arrive."
Once you've prepared yourselves Dr. Trice ensures you are all forming a bond and teleports you. One second you stand in the nice comfortable lodge, and the next you are out in the wilderness overlooking the city of Carrion Hill. The sky above is gray and lightning flickers in the distance behind you. Trice points in the direction of the densely packed city saying only, "Off you go," before disappearing with a faint pop and the smell of ozone.
The trek into the city itself is not hard, though the air contains a chill from the ever-present threat of rain. You reach the city gates and are let in, the men standing guard looking slightly relieved to see you with weapons and knowing which end is the one to hold. They are all dressed in black leather armor with chains strewn about, as well as longswords on their hips and bows ready strung across their shoulders.
They seem to know where you are off to just by your demeanor and gear and point towards Crown Manor, the home of the mayor. You walk through the tight streets, buildings looming large overhead and can't help but feel hemmed in, as though the city were designed to be one giant trap. As you round the first corner you hear a crier in the square, "“Carrion Hill needs heroes! Men and women of stout heart and bravery are asked to come to Crown Manor with all haste, there to receive a task worthy of their skill and talents and a reward of suitable magnificence. Make haste to Crown Manor! Make haste!”
Despite the cramped quarters of the city no one stirs on the streets. You barely see any of the watch in your peripheral vision, and a street past the crier his cries are muffled and indistinct. Even the crows are avoiding the town, flying high above, calling out in fear and avoiding everything below.
As you approach Crown Manor thunder claps in the distance and the heavens fulfill their promise of rain by the bucketful. Its staccato beat upon the cobbles and shingles around you echo eerily and anything outside is quickly soaked to the bone. You rush to the manor and see two more of the watch outside, despondent and miserable in the rain. Their faces light briefly with a flicker of hope as they see you arrive and quickly usher you into the central hall, dripping and wet.
With you are more members of the guard and a run-down looking man, just edging over 40 with some salt in the fine pepper of his beard and hair. He sits in a chair, distracted and fretting over some reports in his hand and looks up as the doors close behind you.
He straightens just a bit before gesturing you to be seated and addressing you, "Pathfinders, I thank you for attending in our hour of need—Carrion Hill has a long history of battle, yet always before its enemies have attacked from outside our walls. We are fortified to defend against such attacks, but now we face an entirely different threat. Our enemy is already here, dwelling in the tunnels and catacombs below and surfacing to strike without warning.
“As you may have heard, the first of these attacks occurred early this very morning, when something huge came up from below in a part of the Tangles called Slipper Market. It partially destroyed a building and killed a half dozen locals before retreating into the ruined structure. The Crows were swift to reply, led by our own Commander Garus, but when they arrived, they were slaughtered to the last.
“Since then, the thing has moved on, surfacing no less than three times in different parts of the city, crushing buildings from below and slaying anyone it finds inside. I’ve got the entire force of the city watch in reserve, and with each new event they respond quickly, but the damage is always done by the time they arrive. Already there is talk of war and invasion, but I still believe that what we face is a single horror. If we can only figure out what it is, we might be able to defeat it. And this is where your group comes in—the horror has moved on from its initial point of entrance, but if you can explore the ruins in Slipper Market, perhaps you can find some sort of clue to tell us what it is we face. I cannot spare any of my Crows to aid you, for they are needed in keeping order in the streets, but if indeed you can find something… anything…about this monster from below, I will pay you and your organization handsomely: 1,500 gold for solid information, and twice again that amount for aiding in defeating the horror.”
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Listening intently is a slim well built humanoid. On his back sits an elvin curveblade and he is wearing all black ninja robes with a hood. From behind his hood you can see the tip of a beak and his hands are claws.
"I think we will be able to help with this. Have there been any survivers that can describe this creature to us? You said all the crows perished or do they have a head quarters where we can speak to someone?"
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Standing at the back of the office, ao that he can keep an eye on his companions to ensure their safety, is a humanoid clearly of hellish descent. Simply introducing themselves as 'Ronin' when in the Venture-Captain's office, the ex-Samurai is dressed in ratty grey Hakama and battered sandals, a gleaming breastplate hidden by a tattered grey kimono. His skin is a deep scarlet and clearly scaled, with prominent horns and dead eyes that seem to peer into the very soul of those he watches. Twin Scabbards adorn his left hip, each containing a meticulously sharpened and oiled Katana, the only part of his appearance he seems to care for.
Bowing low at the waist, Ronin addresses the mayor, his eyes glowing eerily. "Great honour to you Lord, though I wish we were meeting at better times, though it is likely we would never have met otherwise." his speech reveals a Tien accent and his words are clipped. "I accept your task and will lay my life down to ensure my allies' success."
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Valyssa listens intently to the man... "I had heard something of this on my travels here but this is worse than I could have foretold. Slaughtered to the last...war and invasion... did you say 1500 gold and more...? I think we can help you in this regard. What else can you tell us of this Slipper Market."
The mayor wrings his hands trying to let out some of his nervous energy, "Whatever emerged to destroy the buildings was certainly the size of a giant, judging by the extent of the damage it inflicted, but those who saw these events have difficulty describing it—it was as if the buildings were pulled apart from within. Some few who saw more say that the creature itself was strangely hard to see, as if it kept to the shadows or were invisible. I'm not sure you'll be able to find many who are willing to talk, everyone seems to have gone into hiding.
"Unfortunately Commander Garus was among the first killed. When the dust had settled from the initial confrontation we hadn't even known who had gone in. Once the second wave of Crows arrived they had to dig their friends and comrades out of the rubble that remained."
The mayor breathes a sigh of relief as everyone expresses their earnest confirmation of the mission. "I knew it was a good idea to send that message to Doc, and I'm glad you all arrived so quickly. Had you walked from Caliphas there might not have been a city left. As to Slipper Market, it lies in the Tangles on Stormway Steps, on the lower western slope of the Hill. It was bustling, but the reports I've been getting have suggested everyone has disappeared from the area for fear of another attack."
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Ronin listens to the Mayor's report intently, sadly, the nature of the attacks could easily be attributed to any number of large beast so he was clueless to its identity. Paranoid however, he lets his natural powers loose and his empty eyes glow with an eerie light. Suddenly, the life auras of those around him flare into vision for him alone, allowing him to see if he was being deceived by followers of Undeath.
"Most Tragic. Have any of the Crows been taken to a doctor or Undertaker? We may find out more of the creature from the wounds sustained."
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The Professor, standing an inch over three feet and bearing more wrinkles than dried prune, suddenly wakes from his power nap.
"Giant beasts, you say?"
Smacking his lips, he pulls large glass lenses from his eyes and at that moment his oversized eyes seem to disappear from his face. After polishing the glasses with the hem of his bathrobe, he returns them to his face.
"What was that? Something about my slippers? Why yes, I purchased them from the markets in Absalom. Rather something of a deal a few decades ago. They don't quite make them this way anymore."
He lifts a foot a scant inch from the ground and wiggles it for all to see.
"So yes, big beast. Tearing up buildings from inside. And as befitting the Society we've come prepared with..."
The gnome squints at the garbed tengu, the tiefling and the almost-orc standing about him.
"... appropriate, fodd, err, did I say fod--? I meant meat, err did I say meat? I meant hardy warriors, of course."
Clearing his throat, the Professor begins flipping through an oversized book.
"Now, anything you can tell us about the destruction besides its most recent origin? A smell of sulfur perhaps? Raking claw marks from oversized toenails? Scorch marks?"
"Good heavens! That is horrible, Mr. Mayor! We shall seek out this devourer and expose it to the light of the Sun." She starts double checking her gear to make sure she is prepared. "Let us make haste to the Slipper Market!"
The mayor nods his head, "The bodies that were recovered were brought to the local undertaker, though the man himself has been swamped helping triage the locals who were hurt by the collapsing buildings."
Slightly confused by the gnome's comments about his slippers mayor Heggren decides to focus on his questions, "I haven't been to any of the sites myself, I've been busy sending missives and redirecting the Crows to avoid a mass panic and riots in the streets. You'll have to head down to the market and search yourselves unfortunately."
Mayor Heggry looks immensely relieved and directs two of the Crows with him to lead you to Slipper Market. They nod, give a formal salute and march out the door, expecting you to follow on their heels. The rain hasn't stopped and seems to have grown worse, the downpour spelling a night of misery for any caught up in it. The town remains eerily quiet, despite the noise, or perhaps because of the noise of the rainfall. Everything is muffled and fuzzy at great distances. Shops are all closed, beggars seem to have left the streets, and there doesn't even appear to be the normal frightened faces peering from windows and doors along the way there.
When the you arrive at Slipper Market, they find the place in a state of disorder. Normally a bustling market, it is abandoned save for two dozen milling Crows. Your own Crow escort leads you through this throng of guards to a side street that has been roped off; one guard lifts a soaking, dripping rope barrier to let the everyone through and indicates that both Tarrig’s home and the partially ruined building where the first attack occurred lie just beyond. Wide-eyed faces watch the market from upper floor windows, but no one speaks—the only sound is the constant onrush of the driving rain.
The guards have set up benches under a barely functioning open tent in the market near the roped-off street entrance. Under the tent lie the remains of three bodies—all the guards have been able to recover from the site beyond the initial two. Garus is not among the dead. The first two bodies are a pair of homeless thugs who lived in the alley. The guards mention this with a look of distaste and a ward against evil as they haven't been able to catch these two for some time. The first body has been flattened by a single crushing attack to the chest, while the second has had his back broken. The third body is one of the Crows, a man whose body has been twisted twice around at the waist like a knotted rag and whose arms are broken in so many places that they flop like tentacles. His chain shirt and sword are twisted like the rest of his body—whatever did this to the man was huge and incredibly strong.
Kyra kneels down by each corpse, inspecting it closely for more clues as to the manner of their deaths. She invokes a blessing on each using her holy symbol before standing up solemnly. "This is very grave indeed."
The two thugs don't show Kyra anything special, but the Crow seems to have his face fixed in a rictus of fear, though that could be from being wrung like a rag.
A man steps forward nervously, wringing his hands. "Sirs, madams, I think I have some information if you need it. Everyone else is too scared to talk about it, but I want that thing gone from my town."
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The Professor blinks a few times before shuddering at the sight of the pretzel-Crow.
"Yeeesh! Tied him up like a shoelace! Whatever did this was both stronger than an giant and angrier than an ogre..."
The Professor continues to hunch over as he examines the corpses, taking far too long to stand up straight again and turn to look at the nervous arrival.
Kyra strides over to the speaker. "Yes, yes, please! Anything you have to share will be most helpful."
The man takes a breath and begins his story, determination set across his features, “As every morning, the Slipper Market was awake early. The merchants set up stalls in the two hours before dawn and prepare their wares, and that was when a terrible something came crashing out of Marshan’s house. There were an awful lot of screams, and the entire house shook as if some great invisible hand had taken hold of it and was trying to push it into the ground or crumple it in its fist. I ran for the watch, but by the time we’d come back, it was all quiet. Wasn’t more than a few heartbeats after the guards entered Marshan’s home that the shaking and the screaming began again. Some of the guards ran back into the street only to be lifted into the air by something unseen and crushed most horrifically; it left behind only a few bodies, whatever it was. The house has been quiet ever since, but that doesn’t mean that the monster’s gone!” He indicates the ruined structure down the street with rubble spilling from the holes in its walls, "That was Marshan's place."
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The Professor bobs his head, eagerly absorbing the information from the man.
"An unseen hand you say? Preposterous!"
As the man continues his story, the Professor rubs a bit of wispy white stubble on his chin.
"Hmmm... Possible..."
As the man gestures towards the ruined building, the Professor snaps his fingers.
"Probably even! An unseen hand! Why didn't you say so earlier! Sounds like the work of some sort of nefarious wizard. Did Marshan have any wizardly enemies perhaps? Was he a slipper salesman and perhaps sold mismatched sizes? I know that would certainly cause me to lob about a few fireballs in anger."
The man shakes his head, "No, Old Man Marshan moved into that abandoned place a few years ago, started renovating it from the ground up practically. Kept to himself, didn't deal with Slipper Market business. You ask me he was probably some retired adventurer living off the spoils of days spent raiding tombs and slaying ogres. Only company he kept came in the dark of night and left a'fore dawn."
The nearby Crows hear Phantomblade's request and nod, waving everyone forward, not willing to get closer to the building than necessary.
The side of a single-story wooden house has collapsed outward into this ten-foot-wide alley, adding to the clutter and refuse. The roofs provide some shelter from the rain, leaving swaths of blood and gore on walls here and there. The hideous smell wafting out of the ruined building is as unplacable as it is stomach-turning. Perhaps the strangest is the huge spiral-shaped smear of blood on the wall opposite the partially collapsed building—sheltered by the rain, this ominous rune rises high on the side of the building, as if something enormous had used a broken and bleeding body as a brush to paint its mark.
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Keeping quiet during the investigations and questionings, Ronin nevertheless kept his soul-seeing eyes on the crowd and anyone they may meet, looking out for signs of the walking dead or other strange beings. His left claw is grasped firmly on the hilt of a Katana at his hip, looking ready to draw it in a heartbeat if given the cause. Listeningto the man's story he could see it had promise - a retired adventurer could indeed have just kept to himself, but so did cults that could summon strange beings from the planes that they couldn't necessarily control.
Stepping into the building he can see nothing into the Runes, but instead looks around for any signsof fiendsish malignancy.
Attempting the front door you realize it is still locked. Presumably everyone and everything has been traveling through the enormous hole in the wall.
The living room inside is in a complete state of disarray. Doors are smashed open and the northern wall has exploded outward. The furniture is in shambles, and rain leaking in from multiple fresh holes in the roof has done little to wash away the thick layer of sticky black slime that seems to coat every surface—slime that exudes a horrific stench something like an open grave, burnt decay, the air before a thunderstorm, wet and diseased fur, and worse. Scattered amid the slime and rubble are body parts—too many to be from one victim and all strangely bloodless.
"Oh dear. This is a terrible state of affairs indeed. We must be extremely careful as we proceed." She tells the others what she knows of the symbol.
"Ugh! This is horrible!" Kyra nearly retches as she enters. She keeps a hand clapped over her nose and mouth as she picks her way through the debris.
Poking through the rubble you find 5 arms, 4 legs, 2 trunks, and a head. The rest is probably still buried.
Phantomblade, continuing in, discovers what was once a cluttered but cozy parlor; but now the couches, bookshelves, tables, and other comforts are in complete disarray. The eastern wall is partially collapsed, including what once may have been a fireplace to the northwest and two doors leading into other rooms of the building to the southwest. A hideous smell wafts through these holes.
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Phantom will continue in, trying to avoid being seen by anything that might be hiding in here
-Posted with Wayfinder
Phantomblade continues his journey inward. What appears to have once been a library and bedroom is now in a shambles. Furniture is splintered, shelves and books smashed and torn, and everything is coated with a thick, stinking layer of tar-like sludge. A door frame lies burst open to the southwest, beyond which a flight of slime-smeared stone steps leads downward into the dark.
Scanning the room with his eyes the Tengu sees that many of the books in this room focus on the history of Carrion Hill and the immediate surroundings, as well as several tomes on astronomy. The peculiar thing is that each title gives hints that the contents of the book are about monsters and the cults that surround them.
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The Professor's head bobs at Kyra's report on the symbol's reference to the Dark Tapestry.
"Ah, yes! The Dark Tapestry! Of course! Such a wondrous place. Someday hope to visit again, you know? Just spent a lovely stay on Aucturn's Tear."
He then shakes his head as the severed arms, legs and head are uncovered, seeming mostly to be unphased by the grim sight.
"Hmm, not sure those match. I'd say there's at least another head somewhere."
He continues to study the rune.
"I'd say it's highly likely someone's trying to summon something... and succeeded! Curious indeed. I'd certainly enjoy some time alone with such an accomplished arcanist!"
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Following the others into the rooms, Ronin takes the time to reset his strange ability to see the life auras of those around him as his vision shifts to account for the darkness in the corners of this strange place. Listening to the revelations of Kyra and the Professor intently, the dishonoured Samurai frowns. "The Dark Tapestry? To summon from there one must be mad, or insane..." he says softly, despite the noise already made. "Could the Slipper Market Monster have come from there?"
Examining the gruesome body parts, Ronin kneels in the rubble and sweeps it away, deciding to examine them for cause of seperation.
He then slowly and carefully creeps off to see if there aren't any clues in the wreckage.
Ronin quickly determines that the limbs were removed from their bodies through sheer physical strength, each being slightly elongated near the joint with the flesh and muscles torn around it.
Whatever it was forced its way up from the stairs below, cracks and strain around the door frame indicating it had to squeeze itself through. Based on the slime and how it is drying it does not seem likely that the creature returned the way it came.
Kyra is sickened even further by the Professor's reaction to her news. "Accomplished? More like accursed."
Looking at the splintered doorframe where Ronin has indicated, she suggests, "It seems we must go downstairs and find where the Monster entered this plane."
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"Then lets move quickly before it strikes again"
Phantom will move down stairs quietly and look around if he sees it is clear
-Posted with Wayfinder
After the first turn in the stairway's descent, traces of dust and debris indicate that the stairs may have once been clogged with rubble but were recently cleared; by the second turn in their descent, the architectural style changes to an older one involving stone arches and brick-lined walls. The smell quickly dissipates as you traverse the stairs, though the darkness is everpresent.
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Nodding at the assessment to proceed downwards, Ronin slowly moves down the stairs at the head of his group, battered shield strapped to one arm whilst his Katana remain sheathed for now. His tainted eyes examine every corner of shadow and he kneels in the dust to ensure there is no sign of passage other than themselves here in this accursed place.
"I wonder if our ex-adventurer knew about this ancient place before he bought the building above, or it was a later discovery." he ponders aloud.
This chamber’s brick-lined walls are supported by fifteen foot-high stone arches. Between each arch, circular alcoves have been cut into the wall, each containing a stone sarcophagus. One sarcophagus on the southern wall has toppled over, spilling its long-dead occupant partially out on the brick floor. A dry swath of black sludge nearly ten feet wide runs down the center of the room, connecting the west and northeast stairs. The far end of the hall seems to have collapsed long ago. Along the south wall is a shut door.
"Ew! What in the world is that sludge?" Kyra takes a closer look at it.
The slime Kyra is examining is slowly hardening and extremely sticky. The scent is indescribable and the color is pitch black, seeming to absorb all light directed at it.