GM dot.
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He inclines his head respectfully in what might be a somewhat comical sight-- a jet-black human-sized avian creature acting with civility. He wears leather armor inlaid with metal studs. Less than comical is the variety of weapons he displays openly: javelins, throwing daggers, and a long, curved sword strapped across his back. "Calchas Entreri."
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A lanky tiefling woman approaches with flowing robes of deep blue and green which partially hide her wings and tail. With all the gravitas and smugness typical of someone in the employ of a Taldorian noble, she cocks an eyebrow and looks down her nose at the rest of the group assembled. I am Iowyn, soothsayer of Taldor. I suppose it is pleasure to lend my services to the Society.
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A gaunt, pale humanoid wearing a black cloak, with a large, wicked scythe strapped to his back enters. His silver hair trails down around his face, and he moves with an awkward gait, like his body doesn't quite fit together perfectly.
"Good day, my friends. I hope all is well. Am I late? Has someone from the Society told us yet of our assignment?"
Venture-Captain Brackett stands in the opulent Grand Cathedral of Aroden in Almas, the intricate stained glass window onto Andoran’s bustling capital speckling his thin, hawk-nosed face with colored light as he presents your orders.
“The Society has been granted a unique opportunity, and I hope you are up to the task. Last week I received a missive from the nymph queen Syntira of Darkmoon Wood to the north. It seems a deadly plague afflicts the fey of the Wood and they are desperate to find its source and a cure. While we would not normally waste our time and resources on this sort of endeavor, this particular situation presents us several potential boons we can not pass up."
“Syntira has long attempted to improve relations between her fey subjects and the human inhabitants of nearby Falcon’s Hollow. Sadly, the Lumber Consortium agents who run the town are not open to a diplomatic solution, and tensions remain high. The Society stands to learn much from the fey, both about their magical nature and the elusive First World, and we could certainly benefit from a powerful ally in Darkmoon Vale. Do whatever you can to get the bottom of this plague and find a solution. We must show Syntira that the Pathfinder Society deserves her trust."
“We believe the strange disease may originate from a cursed relic known as Isandrea’s Basin rumored hidden deep within Darkmoon Wood. If this theory proves accurate, I want you to obtain the basin and bring it to me for study. I imagine an external force harnessed the artifact’s power and guards it heavily—so be prepared."
“One Lumber Consortium logging camp in particular was involved in several conflicts with the forest’s resident fey over the last year, and both Syntira and I believe that starting your investigation at this cutyard will prove most productive. I will provide you a map to this location as it’s a good place to start your investigation. Once you have located and identified the disease, seek Syntira herself and aid her in “One Lumber Consortium logging camp in particular was involved in several conflicts with the forest’s resident fey over the last year, and both Syntira and I believe that starting your investigation at this cutyard will prove most productive. I will provide you a map to this location as it’s a good place to start your investigation. Once you have located and identified the disease, seek Syntira herself and aid her in any way possible. Stock up on provisions here in Almas before heading up-river, as you may find Falcon’s Hollow too small and provincial for many of your needs. Don’t dally too long, however, because the disease is quickly spreading, and we want to stop it before it gets out of hand.”
“According to Syntira’s description, the infected are covered in small white pustules and quickly weaken and wither to their deaths. We have not heard reports of any afflicted humanoids in the area—only fey—but you should use caution as humanoids can catch the disease. Itmay be in your best interests to prepare for dealing with the disease before heading to Falcon’s Hollow."
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Saera's kept quiet till now, but when the Venture-Captain's done explaining the mission she steps forward. The only thing Saera didn't inherit from her succubus mother are the wings, and when Saera speaks her razor sharp teeth show. "We should indeed take proper precautions. I'll buy two vials of antiplague as well, just in case."
"Are you a doctor?" Saera asks Balon, "Do you have any knowledge on diseases like these?"
"My name's Saera by the way. Saera Dyar."
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A gnome with pale feathery hair wrapped in garish desert robes bursts in as the Venture-Captain explains the mission. "Am I late? Sorry. I got distracted. There was a bit of a thing down the street. No big deal. The fire's almost out."
After Brackett finishes: "Don't worry. We'll take care of it. Always good to help out the fey. Do we know anything about these loggers and why they've been fighting the local fey?"
"I've already got some antiplague and if it takes more than a day to reach this Darkmoon Wood, I should be able to make some more. Tricky stuff though. A little hard to make on the road."
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"I would... hesitate to call myself a doctor. I do have much knowledge of disease, however. And the undead heritage in my blood gives me a slight advantage against accidentally contracting diseases, as well."
You notice a holy symbol hidden carefully in Balon's robes, with the symbol of Urgathoa on it.
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Listening to the others comment on the mission briefing while he contemplates the task at hand, Vincent waits several minutes before speaking. I fear I know little of plagues, but I have traveled through the region once or twice. If we can help Syntira, find the cause of the plague, or help resolve current tension, we will gladly do so.
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@Iowyn: "Morbid is in the eye of the beholder, my friend. Like me, you look to have blood running through your veins of creatures that may be despised by many in civilized society. My goddess does not find my taint despicable, in fact I am closer to her divinity than most of her mortal followers, thanks to my vampiric blood. One day, after I have paid my penance as a mortal being, I will ascend to immortality through undeath, and the Pallid One will embrace me with open arms."
With the whole party now assembled, the group of Pathfinders heads out to find the magical basin and hopefully bring an end to the disease plaguing the Darkmoon region.
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The light in Darkmoon Wood is dim under the thick forest canopy, and an eerie mist blankets the damp forest floor. A humble cutyard fills this man-made clearing. Thick darkwood stumps cover the ground and the scent of sawdust lingers in the air. Two rows of tents line a central path strewn with abandoned axes, saws, chains, and coils of rope. Over the unnatural silence of the forest, sounds of terrified screaming and ripping canvas carry from the far side of the camp. Six weakened men struggle to get away as two undead creatures stuffed like rag dolls with bright red, orange, and yellow flowers chase after them. Seeing a new threat enter the camp however, the undead beasts turn to you!
Initiative Order:
1. Balon, Calchas, Iowyn, Kiyanetikert, Saera, Vincent
2. Zombies
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"Some seem to have problems accepting those who are different," Saera says shaking her head. "Though I have to admit I'm not found of most of the undead, as they have a tendency to attack innocent people. Like those in front of us."
Saera moves forward while drawing her pistol. She aims for the closest undead and pulls the trigger.
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Balon sighs. "These poor, mindless creatures. If they weren't actively trying to hurt others, I would consider trying to keep one as a pet. Alas."
Balon pops a scroll of shield of faith out of a spring-loaded wrist sheath, casting it on himself. "If this goes south for us, I have a healing wand that is almost guaranteed to destroy them with a single hit, but I'd rather save that for healing one of you if necessary. Oh, and in case you were not aware, please do not use healing spells on my person. They will deal damage to me as if I were one of those." He then moves up 30 feet, drawing his wickedly-curved scythe as he moves.
Some of the party prepares for combat while others begin the onslaught. A zombie shrugs off Iowyn's hex while taking Saera's arrow in the shoulder. He makes a desperate attempt to bat it out just as Kiyan's bomb shatters against its chest.
1. Balon, Calchas, Iowyn, Kiyanetikert, Saera, Vincent
2. Zombies
Calchas is unable to connect with his thrown javelin…the zombies close in on Balon and Calchas.
Round 2
1. Balon, Calchas, Iowyn, Kiyanetikert, Saera, Vincent
2. Zombie (-2AC, -13hp), Zombie
Balon slices into the zombie and it explodes in a cloud of spores!
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He gags on grime and filth from the first zombie, which explodes as if rigged to do so. He presses his beak together tightly as he tumbles around to the opposite side of the remaining zombie, drawing his long blade as he does so. When he regains his feet he brings his sword with him, slicing upward. This will be bad.
Calchas cuts down the remaining zombie and it spews spores and flowers like the one before it...thankfully no other party members moved up in the meantime. With the threat dispersed the lumberjacks start treating their wounded. Some of them appear to be already affected by a disease being called palepox. While thankful to you for eliminating the threat they still seem wary of you.
One survivor speaks out for the rest of lumberjacks, "Thank you. M'name's Vanick Inor. You see, we were attacked by fey-it's a common occurrence in these woods and in our line of work-and we attempted some retaliation but must've caught whatever it is these fey have been going mad with recently. Those flowers-the one in the dead men-are grown in a grove not far away. I discovered it recently with several other men as we were tracking down satyrs. We were chased off by the field's guardians though: a band of crazy ex-druids known for begging in Falcon's Hollow's town square."
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Iowyn nods in agreement with Vincent. She hated the idea of getting closer to the risk of infection, but the grove was the only reasonable path.
The tiefling draws her robes tighter around herself in discomfort as discussion of the disease continues, Would you be able to guide us to these flowers? Although I feel we need some more information before we depart. Have you noticed any signs of the disease in the druids or satyrs? How many of your men have contracted or succumbed to the disease so far? Do you have an estimation about how long it takes ones to go from first infection to... She gestures to the remains of the undead ...well... that?
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When the group has the information they need from Vanick, Iowyn pulls aside Balon and any of the other pathfinders close by. In a hushed voice she asks the cleric, The infected men here... Is there anything you can do for them? I would rather not leave them to suffer and turn into whatever it was we just fought. But any sort of treatment is beyond my healing arts...
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"I'm sorry about your friends here, but glad we could help. What's going on with the fey? That seems to be the root of the problem? We'd heard some rumors, but how did it start? I thought they were usually pretty reclusive."
Also, Kiyanetikert will take a closer look at the flowers from the dead, wearing gloves and being careful not to actually touch them or breath in any spores.
"I've got the one dose of antiplague. Didn't have the chance to make anymore on the way here. Not much I can do for them beyond that. "
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He sheaths his sword and wipes off what he can of the spores that still cling to his feathers. He stays silent while the others talk to Vanick, instead looking at the bodies with Kiyanetikert. He knows little and less about what kind of plant is responsible, but maybe the bodies can tell him what the plant might look like. "What can you tell?" he asks his little companion.