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A woman walks in, dressed in fine crafted studded leather armor. She has a "belt" of daggers draped form her hips. A wry smile on her face, she tucks her brown hair back behind her ears, So, is this the place. The Captain asked me to come here, said he had an important mission.
She looks around Hm, Got a strange group with me this time...well as long as I don't get in over my head like last time, as her mind starts to wander recalling her last mission.
She walks up to the earthy looking guy, So, what are you exactly, don't ever remember reading about your kind, if you don't mind me asking. Jasmine is my name by the way
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Snores echoes through the tidy chamber within the Grand Lodge as a tiny, withered old man not more than a few feet in height lays mouth ajar on the faded sofa. One hand rests in a pocket of his linen white pajamas(?) while his feet occasionally twitch and appear to be covered in nothing more than a pair of mismatched slippers.
Smacking his lips, he continues to snooze, occasionally mumbling something about magic, machines or magic machines while his spectacles drift further down the bridge of his rather lengthy nose.
"Mmmhmm.... mmmrmphmmm..."
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A massive, yet not towering mass of stone and earth walks into the lounge where the Venture-Captain has the Pathfinders waiting - an uncommon sight indeed! Its body seems made of granite, and while it appears to be chipped in many places, the whole of it appears invulnerable, unbreakable, formidable. A beard of orange and red crystal even make it look like a dwarf of sorts.
The creature - for lack of a better word yet - is wearing a finely crafted, solid-looking breastplate armor, adorned with veils and shades not unlike those worn in northern Garund among the desert folk. Numerous weapons are his arsenal, ranging from sharp falchions in various metals to a massive spiked hammer. The no-nonsense attitude the creature has makes him look as if he was ready to enter the Worldwound itself, among the first lines of warriors.
"Name's Basalte. I'm Pahmet, from Osirion, but also Oread. Earth folk." he simply rumbles, is voice as low as the deep echoing voice of the earth.
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Nice to meet ya, Hm I wonder if...nah has she starts to wonder.
She walks over to the sleeping Gnome, My father told me to never wake a sleeping Gnome...I wonder if those were just tales he told or if there were any truth to them?
She ponder if she should let him sleep or wake him. She decides that she might as well enjoy herself. She gently slips off one of the Gnomes slippers. Once off, she grabs a feather a gently tickles the old mans feet.
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An athletic female, dressed in old scale armor with bits of fur and bone strung here and there, enters the room.
She is comely, with intelligent eyes, yet she seems cold and distant. She nods to the rest of the room, then promptly finds a seat in the corner. She casts a brief but disapproving glance at Jasmine's tickling the gnome's feet.
The look on her face is determined, and conveys a distinct message: Don't mess with me.
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A young elf glides into the room.... Or did he bounce in? It is hard to tell. He moves with the gracefulness typical of the race, yet his excitement is clear on his face. You can almost see a small child bouncing up and down, "Can we go now? Can we go now?"
He is about to speak but stops himself when he sees the the female getting into mischief. Instead, he plops on the ground in front of the two people as if he were watching a play.
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The Professor flails about slightly in his sleep in response to the assault on the underside of his foot.
"Mrahhh... Mahhhammm, that tickles... don't make me... fireball."
Just as suddenly as he responded, he falls back into a deeper snore where upon several seconds pass before he spontaneously wakes, the end to his slumber apparently wholly unconnected from Jasmine's mischief.
"Well, I see a bunch of young'uns arrived. Still no venture captain?"
Pressing the spectacles back to the bridge of his nose, the old gnome grumbles.
"Typical venture captain. What time is it? Not midnight? Well, that's good, that means no Drengle Dreng to disturb my beauty rest."
After another half hour passes, the group is finally met by a steward who leads you to a vault deep below Skyreach. Before reaching the room, he hands a sealed envelope to each of you. Once you enter the room, you see a five-by-seven-foot tapestry hanging on the wall, surrounded by a series of platforms and ladders that allow a close view of any spot upon it. The room is otherwise empty, save for the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells, Aram Zey, who paces impatiently before the Hao Jin Tapestry, glancing up as the door creaks open.
“Thank you for your quick arrival, Pathfinders,” Zey says curtly, speaking without making eye contact, as though his mind is moving faster than his mouth. As he continues his focused pacing, he gestures toward the tapestry.
“As I’m sure you know, we recently came into possession of this wonder behind me—the Hao Jin Tapestry—by winning the Ruby Phoenix Tournament in distant Goka. Within this piece of fabric lies an entire world in which one of Golarion’s greatest magicians placed treasures and mysteries beyond imagining. And it was supposed to be ours alone. This promise of exclusive access was made a lie, however, when the Aspis Consortium found a way into Hao Jin’s astral vault that bypassed the tapestry altogether, and Aspis agents are now busy stealing whatever they can move, hoping we will act too slowly to protect our winnings. Fortunately, a recent mission into the tapestry managed to uncover a clue about a possible Aspis base within the tapestry. That is your destination.”
“The camp, interestingly, is within a great stone temple complex uprooted from the Vudran jungle many centuries ago by the sorceress herself. Since her disappearance, that part of the tapestry has been encased in a massive glacier. This temple—dedicated to a Vudran monkey-god, we believe—could prove enlightening on its own, notwithstanding the Aspis presence there. It’s a grim thought imagining what the Consortium has done to the place, but apparently more than three-quarters of it is still protected by the glacier, so we can still salvage a great deal.”
“Vanaras—the simian humanoids responsible for constructing this temple—are great builders, and this temple is representative of the huge complexes that once graced the Vimada Forest before their wars with men and the rise of Khiben-Sald. It’s a representation of the cosmos, really, a series of nested squares with symbolic shrine-mountains all directed toward great Bahmenu, the mountain birthplace of the god Ragdya and, the vanaras believe, the center of the universe. This symmetry may serve you well, since it will help you predict the layout and functions of the temple as you make your way around it. Every corner of the temple will be fitted with a small shrine, all facing the symbolic mountain.”
“Even an abandoned temple is a holy place to the vanaras, as it is to most of us Vudrani as well, and we hope you respect that fact. If you can save the sanctuary from the insolence of the gods-damned Aspis, it may draw the mirthful and enlightened eye of Ragdya himself upon our Society.”
Zey stops speaking, and looks briefly at each of you with an impatient gaze, as if waiting for any questions.
* * *
Contents of the envelopes:
Devoted servant of the Forthbringer,
As ever, the true understanding of the past and the potential future is our goal. It is our tentative belief that the temple you will be entering might contain some surviving manuscripts of Hao Jin’s lifetime, including, perhaps, an earlier text of the Mizravrtta Brahmodya. Besides its importance to the understanding of Vudran secrets, it may shed some light on the ancient sea voyages undertaken by the servants of the God-Pharaohs to what the papyri call Wutja-Ra, and the islands of the Seas of Verdure and Reeds. Locate this, and it will mark your afterlife for favor.
In the name of the holy dead,
Amenopheus, the Sapphire Sage
Citizen of Free Andoran,
Having heard of the nature of your mission, we ask you to remain vigilant for impressed and unwilling members of the Aspis camp. The Consortium is accustomed to using captives for their worst work, and if the conditions within the tapestry are the same as they are in Consortium dig-sites and bases on Golarion, then we fully expect to find slaves to bent to their service there. But simply freeing them isn’t enough. We need tangible evidence that they are purchased slaves and not merely captured prisoners forced to work. Such evidence could be invaluable in changing the public perception of the Consortium in Andoran, and eventually maybe beyond our borders.
In democracy’s name,
Major Colson Maldris
Loyal Pathfinder,
There are some in the Society, myself included, who suspect some grander strategy on the part of our rivals. It’s of prime importance that evidence of Aspis Consortium efforts in the Hao Jin Tapestry be brought to our attention, beyond their overt goals of gross pillage and theft. Another team in the tapestry who came across the Consortium’s agents passed on a suspicion that some sort of secret alliance with beings dwelling on the demiplane might be in the offing. Get to the bottom of this.
Good luck,
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin
Loyal Imperial Subject,
I understand that your forthcoming mission is directed against the Aspis Consortium’s underhanded incursion into the Hao Jin Tapestry. I have heard from unimpeachable sources that the camp commander there is the notorious Leska Valentra, who killed the noble Taldan Pathfinder Decian Bardos last year. His wayfinder, engraved with his signet and handed down by generations of well-born explorers, was not recovered with his body. The Empire and his lineage pray that you may find it so it may be handed to his proper heirs.
For the Empire,
Lady Gloriana Morilla
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Evenstar finished reading the contents of her envelope, then folded it and placed it in a belt pouch.
This all seems so strange...a world within a tapestry. This is very far from home, though at least the cold will make me feel like I'm still there. Enough with all the talking...now is the time for action.
"I am ready to proceed," she said to Zey.
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The professor smacks his lips, scratches and itch and looks out at the other Pathfinders selected to delve into the tapestry with him.
"A visit into the tapestry, is it? Very well, I see you've assigned capable guards for my brilliant mind."
Removing his spectacles, he cleans them on his pajamas for a moment.
"My brain sometimes plays tricks on me. Was it liberate or incinerate any of these vanaras that we may come across?"
Returning his spectacles, the professor looks about for clarification.
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Basalte nods to Aram Zey in respect, ever reminiscent of his three-year apprenticeship in Skyreach during which he endured many of the Master of Spell's sneers.
"We will find the Aspis, cleanse the temple, salvage what we can. I will protect the scholars with my life." announced the oread solemnly, his earthen face impossible to read. "I am ready."
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Brayden looks about the company, taking stock of his companions. "An intriguing quest indeed. We are quite literally stepping on to the page, as though our great story starts with a quill to the canvas. As loyal pathfinders, we will see to the mission's goals while thwarting the Aspis Consortium. Let us begin!"
You are able to recall a little more about Ragdya. He’s most popular among vanaras, but he retains followers among the common peoples of rural and wooded Vudra, particularly in the region of Sikari. As he’s a monkey-faced god and not a human one, priests and rulers elsewhere tend to dismiss his importance, so there isn't much lore about him in the Inner Sea.
Perhaps believing Professor F was pulling some sort of jest with his question, Zey just glares at him.
Zey looks satisfied that perhaps no one is wasting time asking questions and begins handing out pieces of paper. "On those is the command word, just touch the tapestry in the area indicated on the bottom right corner and speak the command word and you'll immediately be teleported to the right spot."
With that, he makes his way to the exit.
Following his instructions, reality swirls around you and you instantly find yourselves in near freezing temperatures facing a Vudrani style temple in the distance half-covered in a glacier. Behind each of you floats a pulsing blue sphere of light, which is probably your way out of the tapestry. The spheres remain behind once you begin walking towards the temple.
Symmetrical and colossal, the brownish-red stones of the Temple of Ragdya emerge from the glacier, hinting broadly at the scope and immensity of the vanaran complex. Sinuousnymphs, mighty tigers, and trumpeting elephants—frozen in ruddy stone—encrust the temple’s outer friezes. Packed snow and ice clad depictions of vanaras in jungle scenes, creating an odd dissonance between the climate illustrated in the carvings and the frigid conditions of the temple. The wind howls, and muted voices drift from within the temple. Even more eerily, a strange hooting and shrieking issues from the temple’s cornices and spires, as if by some magical or artificial means the calls of thousands of monkeys echo the sound of the arctic storm. A wide doorway stands unobstructed, providing ingress to the columned courtyard within.
With the exception of the doorway, the walls are 30' high and capped with ice.
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The professor, with his limited vision, does nothing to recognize or acknowledge Aram Zey's glare.
Recalling small details about Ragdya, he prattles on about the monkey-faced god for a few minutes like a grandfather telling a story to a grandson.
"Ragdya the monkey-faced god. Always being tread upon by the more popular deities. No doubt he has a sizable chip on his shoulder for that. Perhaps we should arm ourselves with some bananas just in case that would help patch things over?"
The professor nods to the others.
"Eh? Ah? Bananas? Yes?"
Now feeling fully prepared, the Professor prays briefly to Brigh for protection against the chill of the north.
"Well, let's get going. I tend to get cranky if I miss my afternoon nap, which is in precisely 3 hours, 37 minutes."
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The professor's pajamas flip open, barely secured by a long thin strip of frayed cloth and all present can see his preferred choice of undergarment.
Briefs.
"Not a place I'd look to retire. More for the noise rather than the temperature, mind you."
Hobbling ahead, he squints at the courtyard beyond.
"Any angry monkeys ahead? I should've bought some chocolate and sticks as well, we could've dipped and then froze them."
Basalte
Evenstar
Melufiuous
Jasmine
Professor
Brayden
The thought here being Basalte has the most HP to take a big attack in the front, and Evenstar with 20ft movement would likely prefer to not be any further back. Rogues in the middle.
The group eventually reaches the front doorway of the temple. Four columns stand vigil in this open-air courtyard, a wide doorway opening in the center of each wall. To the east, a huge banyan tree lies fallen across the wide bridge that once permitted access to the great gates of the temple. To the north and south stretches a ten-foot-wide walkway running along the temple’s exterior wall. A wide moat of black ice separates this walkway and the inner complex. To the south, a crude wooden ramp leads from the walkway to the ice’s surface ten feet below. Two steep stone stairways lead up from the ice to doorways in symmetrical chambers flanking the main entrance on the other side of the moat.
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Evenstar looks at the options for entering the temple. It appears that they can either climb over the large tree blocking the path, or else go down onto the ice and cross to the south.
"What do you think?" she said as she points out the options as she sees them. "To me, it seems like it might be easier to climb over the tree."
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As the party stops to ponder the tree ahead, the professor nearly bumps into the elf in front of him.
"What? A tree? How inconsiderate, why I ought to incinerate such an inconvenience. Was it a treant or a quickwood? I seem to remember a little plantspeech... how did it go again?"
The professor continues to mumble to himself making sounds like wind blowing and bones creaking before shaking his head.
"Sadly, the pronunciations escape me. Is the tree still there or was one of you kind enough to move it away?"
Narrowing his eyes, the professor sizes up the temple like an old adversary.
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Jasmine, can't help but squint as everything changes around her. He teeth chatter as the brisk cold air hits her face. She pulls her coat tighter around herself to try and keep warm. She can't help but gawk at the beautiful ice-covered structure in front of her. Only in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would see sights like she has, i must tell my parents about what I have seen!
Jasmine, checks herself, one last time to ensure she is ready for whatever may come. She carefully approaches the most of solid ice, and takes a look around.
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After checking there surroundings, Brayden turns to hear the warrior-woman's words. "I agree, going over would allow us to enter directly, which they likely are not expecting. If we can get the advantage of surprise, that could be most helpful. Shall we?" Moving up to the large fallen tree, he takes stock of the branches and tries to climb over.
Jasmine does not spot anything out of the ordinary.
As Brayden climbs over the branches, one of them suddenly snaps back with magical energy, whipping him hard and entangling him in a snare trap that suspends him 10 feet up in the air by the branches! A number of tiny bells attached to the snare ring loudly in the courtyard.
The character is ensnared. Being entangled impedes movement, but does not entirely prevent it unless the bonds are anchored to an immobile object or tethered by an opposing force. An entangled creature moves at half speed, cannot run or charge, and takes a –2 penalty on all attack rolls and a –4 penalty to Dexterity. An entangled character who attempts to cast a spell must make a concentration check (DC 15 + spell level) or lose the spell.
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The professor looks about distractedly when he hears the crack of the branch and the ringing of bells.
"Whaa? What's going on? Is it suppertime with the Paracountess and has she allowed whips in the dining hall again?"
The tiny gnome's head whips about and he sniffs the air for the scent of any food.
"Oh, it's some sort of trap then? Is it magical or mundane?"
Waddling closer, the professor will take a look.
Evenstar is unable to make much progress up the tree, but the reach on her bardiche is enough to cut Brayden loose.
Professor F ascertains that the trap is indeed magical, but the resonance evaporates when the snare is severed. No other traps appear to be in the area.
Sounds of movement can be heard in the south side of the temple.
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After his spell completes, the professor waves his hand as if he were dismissing a messenger or swatting a bothersome insect.
"That certainly won't happen again. However, we seem to have caught something's attention!"
The professor moves to the far side of the larger warriors, placing them between himself and the growing sounds.
Voices erupt from the south side of the temple. A male voice shouts, "We got company."
A female voice laughs darkly in response, "Try to keep up, brother!"
Intiative (Round 1)
Evenstar <= Up
Jasmine <= Up
Melufiuos <= Up
S
Professor F
Brayden (5 Dmg)
H
D
Basalte
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Mel uses wand of shield and then, if there is time, moves below the professor.
-Posted with Wayfinder
From the south stairwell, a man with Ulfen features emerges carrying a heavy crossbow. Noting the injured man on the tree, he shoots his heavy crossbow at Brayden but misses thanks to the Banyan roots in the way.
Intiative (Round 1)
Evenstar
Jasmine
Melufiuos
S
Professor F <= Up
Brayden (5 Dmg) <=Up
H
D
Basalte