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Once the window opened, Bart, Qadathra and the Desnan devout can easily escape in the streets of Nisroch, while the faerie dragon warns her master of her success. As the bounty hunter remains oblivious of her loss, the party rejoins later outside the city, meeting an overjoyed former captive.
"I must thank you heartily, friends! I am Golbrier Frosh, bard in the service of Desna, and as you know a member of the Whispered Song. I am free thanks to you and your little friend here." the man says as he pats the familiar who made everything possible. "We need to hurry and to put some distance between us and Alya, before she realizes that I have escaped."
A long journey then begins, which is fortunately made a bit less tedious by Golbrier's information on your quest.
"I've got word from the Whispered Song about what you seek. The leader of the Onyx Alliance expedition is a man named Lord Maravan, a spellcaster of some power who has trained both in Absalom's Arcanamirium and under a Tian Xia weapon master. Our organization has heard he's looking for something called an "Obsidian Obelisk", a minor artifact somehow related to this land's affinity with shadows. He's headed towards the Cairn of Shadows, which lies within the Barrowmoor. We believe this site to be the burial mound of a horselord chieftain called Telendrak, an ancient foe of the Midnight Lord who we Desnans hold in high esteem. I'll guide you to the cairn, but I won't accompany you inside. I'm a lover and a singer, a bit of a dancer too, but I'm not a fighter."
About a week later, you all reach the Cairn of Shadows. The journey has proved uneventful thanks to Golbrier's remaining in constant contact with his secret cult, which allowed you to avoid patrols or Kuthite loyalists. As you're facing the entrance of a barrow mound, Golbrier gives you the latest news.
"A report has just reached my ears, friends, the Onyn Alliance expedition has entered the Cairn of Shadows, and it looks like they've starting excavating, possibly even started exploring this site. I'll remain outside and wait for you. Good luck!"
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We have scored another victory for righteousness! Penelope exclaims once the party is on safe ground. And without bloodshed, lending a golden edge to our deeds.
The exalted look on her face quickly turn back to a frown as Golbrier explains the involvement of the Onyx Alliance. Robbing the burial mound of Telendrak. We must put a stop to this man, and his alliance, thwart his plans in the name of all that is good. I swear that we will disrupt the plans of this dark menace, and put and end to his scheming!
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Now out of trouble (and earshot), Bart takes a moment to properly introduce himself. "Sorry I couldn't say much back there, I thought it was better to stay separate from you. I heard about the mission from the Venture-Captain before I left."
While he speaks, Bart fingers one of several daggers sheathed on his belt. "My name is Bartholomew Flaxseed-yes, that family-" he says this last part with a bit of disdain in his voice and a roll of the eyes, [b]"-although everyone calls me 'Black Bart'. A term of endearment given to me by my brothers that I have taken as my own. Although Bart works just as well. I travel the roads the rivers, finding work where I can but the Society pays the best, I've found. I hope I can be of service, or at least be of further service since I already broke this zealot out, thank you very much."
Bart hands his wand of cure light wounds to Vladek or Penelope, whoever wishes to take it, and thanks Penelope for the protection.
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A Flaxseed of Cassomir! Pleased to meet you, I am Penelope Tyaden, third of that name. Oppara's Tyaden family. My ancestor is Archimedes Tyaden, hero of the battle of White Pass. Though my family has served as protectors of the house of Wintermark, I myself fought in the Mendevian crusade. If I may be so bold to inquire, you are of which branch?
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Somewhat grim on the week ride the dwarf doesn't say much.. he keeps to himself and occasionally gives prayers to his god. He seems to like his cigars as he's constantly chewing on one.
"Well met Bart.. Grimnir is my name. Stay close and ill try and set you up to use those daggers properly.."
Before entering the cairn Grimnir uses his extend rod to cast extended versions on Heroism, See Invis, and Percieve Cues.
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Scroll of Breath of Life
Scroll of Cure Serious Wounds
Scroll of Lesser Restoration
Scroll of Freedom of Movement
Scroll of Heroism
Scroll of Haste
Scroll of Cat's Grace
With the door down Kayluss will use a charge off his Lead blades wand and one off his Longstider wand, before using his wayfinder to cast light on his shield.
Looking to the rest of the party, Anyone have any objections to me taking point?
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When you enter, a large hall stretches to some great height, its ceiling too high to see. Chains of every size and length hang from above, filling the space with delicate clinks and slow scraping sounds as they gently sway in some unfelt breeze. The depth and height of the chamber are difficult to assess as the chains obscure vision beyond a few feet, but through the forest of chains comes the sound of strangely slow running water.
The atmosphere of this place is clearly eerie.
Moving through this room requires brushing against the chains, leaving streaks of rust, oil, and blood on clothes and armor. The chains do not impede your way, though they block your ability to see far into the room. As far as you can tell, the room continues past a bridge, to the theoretical east.
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A Flaxseed of Cassomir! ... If I may be so bold to inquire, you are of which branch?
Bart audibly sighs as if embarrassed by the associations but replies. "Have you heard of the Venture-Captain? Trotter? He is my nephew. I am the third unwanted brother to Henry and Horatio, Henry being Trotter's father."
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Bart keeps up just behind Kayluss, Thorgrim, and Grimnir, making a scowl at the dirty chains leaving streaks on his clothes. He makes hand signs to indicate they should keep pushing on towards and across the bridge.
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Dampened Light
Within the prison plane, all sources of light—both magical and mundane—have their ranges halved.
Enhanced Magic
Spells with the shadow descriptor or of the shadow subschool are enhanced in the prison plane, functioning as if their caster levels were 2 higher than normal, and specific spells become even more powerful. Shadow conjuration and shadow evocation are 30% as powerful as the conjurations and evocations they mimic (as opposed to 20%). Greater shadow conjuration and greater shadow evocation are 70% as powerful (not 60%), and shades is 90% as powerful (not 80%). Despite the dark nature of the prison plane, spells that produce, use, or manipulate darkness are unaffected by the plane.
Impeded Magic
Spells with the light descriptor or that use or generate light or fire are impeded within the prison plane, requiring a concentration check (DC 20 + the level of the spell) in order to function normally. If the check fails, the spell does not function but is still lost as a prepared spell or spell slot.
Preservation
There is no need for food, drink, or sleep within the Cairn of Shadows, and creatures age at only half their normal rate. It is thus possible to keep prisoners for prolonged periods—many human prisoners currently
in the prison have been here for more than a century—but eventually every prisoner dies. After death, their bodies continue to act with some semblance of life for another century or two, but they are incapable of anything other than moaning and writhing. Any such body taken out of the Cairn of Shadows immediately becomes and inanimate corpse.
Locked Plane
As the prison plane is meant to hold souls indefinitely, planar travel within or away from it is restricted. Creatures may only enter or leave the plane via the barrow entrance connected to the Material Plane. This effects all conjuration (calling) and conjuration (teleportation) spells, as well as etherealness, ethereal jaunt, and similar spells that allow planar travel. It does not affect other forms of conjuration magic, including conjuration (summoning) spells (which only summons creatures temporarily, allowing them to arrive and depart from the demiplane normally).
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At the end of this macabre hall, a desiccated humanoid husk stands propped up by chains. Dozens of hooks of all sizes dig into its flesh, suspending the frail looking corpse a few inches above a throne of rusted iron like some corpse marionette. Its head hangs limp against its chest. The victim hanging over the throne is a shell of a man, but is still technically alive. As soon you approach, a dry coughing breath escapes him, sending ripples of motion up and down the chains that suspend him. Ancient, empty eyes lift to see who disturbs his rest, though he can barely to lift his head and can only speak in a rattling whisper.
"Who goes there? Who comes to disturb... err... Telendrak! Yes, I am Telendrak. I did not forget, Master! Please don't punish me. I REMEMBERED!"
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I am Captain Kayluss Baradin, Eagle Knight of Andoran. My companions and I are Pathfinders; explorers and bringers of light. What darkness has taken hold of you and this place? History tells us that Telendrak was a great Horselord, the last chieftain to defy Zon-Kuthon, more than 9,000 years ago. It would see that dark twisted god has taken hold of you. Please let me free you from your chains.
Kayluss moves to help the man.
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There are many possibilities. This plane does strange things with time, so this man's claim may be true. It could be that Telendrak is a name passed down, much like Tyaden, or Flaxseed. Or, most likely, it could be a ruse. Be aware, and don't let your guard down.
Penelope calls calm instructions, trying to do so as much out of earshot of the horse lord as possible.
Horse lord or no, we cannot leave this man hanging here
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"The Master of Chains. The Lord Above. Giver of Gift and Anguish. Our only god, now. He made me Telendrak, when the last Telendrak was so foolish as to die." he replies Bart with a submissive voice. "But he doesn't need to come. I obeyed, I am Telendrak."
"I am Telendrak, so that makes me a horselord, I suppose! They ruled the Atteran plains as fierce and independant tribes..." Telendrak then halts, dumbfounded.
"I mean WE! We ruled the plains. Please don't come, Master. PLEASE!" rambles Telendrak, his mind obviously broken beyond repair.
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It would seem that this man's master is in fact the evil god Zon-Kuthon. I can not tell if he serves him willingly or if his mind is so far gone that he believes Zon-Kuthon is his new master. While I would like to reap some justice that scrawny little worm I have a feeling he's a bit out of our league.
Kayluss tries to help take the man down,
This man is broken both in mind and body. It would seem the greatest mercy would be to end his torment. Let us explore further and see if we can not find some way of restoring this man's mind.
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The faerie dragon returns with ill news. At the top of the shaft, four creatures are waiting in ambush, having obviously heard you as you were talking with Telendrak. Three of them wear a white porcelain mask and elegant white clothing providing form and contrast to shadowy women. The fourth one resembles a ragged, horrifying, sharp-fanged crone covered in many bone fetishes.
In time, Penelope manages to remove the restraints from Telendrak's body. However, the poor thing appears to be in no shape to walk without help, even less climb chains.
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Unlike the areas near it, this wide hall has no chains within. Rough, uneven stairs run from landing to landing. There is the scent of old blood, and disturbing stains mark the walls. A single black wooden door sits at the end of the run of stairs. Kayluss tries to open it, but realizes too late it is a fake one. A wide pit opens under the feet of the whole group, dropping them thirty feet below.
Despite the pain and suffering, there is one upside to this fall. You find in the pit the bodies of several adventurers, which possessed 8 small ruby songbirds (worth 500 gp each) and 465 pp.
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Penelope gnashes her teeth as the continuous stream of pain comes in from the life links, muttering a prayer as she does so There is no pain, only trial. There is no fear, only temptation. The fire has no shape, it merely shaped the wood. The light clings to the darkness.
Weakened after the ordeal, she sets about healing herself with a cure wand, a process she undergoes without any hint of emotion.