Seltyiel listens when Marina describes the phrase Mauta repeats and says, "Certainly sounds like some of Pharasma's flock. Servants of the sun is probably a reference to these Sarenites here. Does anyone else want to ask them questions? I'd rather not scare them too badly."
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"Well, so much for that. Mauta, hopefully your insanity will end when we defeat this monster. Unfortunately we are unable to help you at the moment. On the up side, however, you can live a relatively happy and prosperous life in Madness. Have you heard of Tsukiyo?" Dissa looks around the room before he begins proselytizing, and thinks now may not be the time. "I'll be back, and we can discuss the Prince of the Moon then."
Dissa fumbles through his pack, and eventually retrieves his notes from Venture-Captain Diya. "I suppose the alchemist is our final option? The other leads have been surprisingly unhelpful." He looks at the crazed construction worker, and whispers "Sorry Mauta. It's true, you were exceptionally unhelpful."
With that, Dissa begins asking around for a young alchemist known for accidental poisonings.
Seltyiel shrugs and follows along, "If nothing else she gave us another potential lead, assuming we wish to check out the Pharasmans."
Dissa is able to find the closed shop rather quickly as the town is still talking about the community member poisoned. Entering the establishment reveals a frail looking man struggling to read through a small tome. He looks up as he hears you, "The shop is closed. I'm not allowed to sell my wares."
The man blushes, "I can see that. But I do appreciate the compliment. My name is Sokari. If you are not here to purchase what are you here for?"
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"Good. Now that you're ready to talk, tell us about the demonic faces. We just scouted the lair of a Div, spoke to an insane woman, and now we're talking to you. What happened?" Dissa gives Marina a lifelong glance, and whispers to the cleric. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. But way to put him on his heels!"
Sokari waves you forward, unwilling to speak of his ruin too loudly lest he be ruined again, "I didn't see the demonic face until after I had been ruined. You see, I heard a disembodied voice, thought it was another merchant messing with me at first, but it seemed so friendly! It promised me great power, and though I was intrigued I shoved it off as a prank. The voice then compelled me, made my mind fuzzy and susceptible to whatever it wanted. It convinced me to poison my customers. When my shop was closed it left, and I haven't felt its presence or seen it once since."
Sokari's eyelid starts twitching as he backs off from Dulomak. "Did something I say upset you?"
Sokari looks nervous and clutches the book to his chest, "I didn't really lie. I just omitted the fact that this book helped me when I couldn't do what the voice wanted. But I have to study it, don't you see? If I can just translate it I'm sure it has the secret to immortality in it! As a Thuvian I can't get that through the Sun Orchid Elixer, this is my only chance!" His voice rises in pitch as he backs against the wall.
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"You don't want immortality. Have you ever heard one of those stories ending well?" Dissa looks deeply into the mans eyes, and continues with all sincerity. "Believe me, I have lived the life of an old man. It is satisfying to know that your works had meaning, and your death will be a welcome transition to the afterlife. Find a spouse, have or adopt some children, shape their lives and futures, then join the River of Souls as intended by nature."
Dissa creeps closer and closer, allowing Marina to reach the book while the mans attention is occupied.
While Dissa is distracting the man Marina is able to slip the book from his slack arms and look through it. The book is written in Ancient Osiriani and filled with notes on necromantic experiments. The journal contains mere snippets of knowledge; no one could ever replicate the necromancer’s “immortality” with these notes alone. The journal serves as a clue, for it references ancient markets the necromancer frequented to procure supplies, as well as her service to the Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues. "H-hey! That's mine!" He tries to sound strong, but continues glancing nervously at the half-orc and dinosaur nearby. "B-but you can have it if you really want it."
"Ah!" Sokari flinches. "Keep it, keep it!" The journal will help to find the location for sure. One clue left, at the temple of Pharasma, the Thrice-Shrouded Necropolis.
Priests of Pharasma, the Lady of Graves, oversee this large graveyard and several small shrines surrounding it. For reasons lost to time, the necropolis possesses three unique traits: the sun’s light shines weakly upon it, causing the graveyard to be dimly lit even on the brightest days; the entire graveyard is under the effects of a calm emotions spell; and sounds in the area are muted . These oddities do not prevent the graveyard from being a popular place for Merab’s residents, many of whom worship Pharasma.
As you arrive you are approached by a priestess, mid-ranking by the cut of her robes, who asks, "Have you come here to pray, followers of the spiral?"
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"I, personally, pray at night or whenever I can see the moon. Tsukiyo guides my hand. However, we have some odd remnants of Ancient Osirian, which may interest the Lady of Graves." Dissa procures the horns, and shows them to the priestess or any acolyte willing to examine them.
The Paladin clears his throat, and begins to describe the sequence of events since arriving in Merab. "Just today we explored an ancient underground ruin, destroyed a few dozen undead, spoke to a demented construction worker, and crossed paths with an alchemist both influenced by demons to poison others while seeking immortality." He pauses, reviewing to make sure he didn't miss any major items.
"We come to you for a three reasons. First, the demented construction worker mentioned a death spiral in Ancient Osiriani. Our cunning linguist was able to pull those key words out of the babble." He nods his head toward Marina at the mention of translation.
"Our second reason for visiting is to follow-up with one of your worshipers, Obahar. He was doing some research on these horns, and we have come to follow-up with him." Dissa suspects Obahar will be here, so he looks around briefly to see if the scholar is approaching them.
"Finally, I would like to ask you about the Pharoah of Forgotten Plagues. I believe the Div which has escaped from the tombs this morning may have a connection to your temple, and will likely continue her research of mass ritual sacrifice." Dissa leans in and whispers, "Which sounds pretty gross."
"We have reason to suspect the Div is attracted to relics of great power, and would appreciate any help you could offer."
The priestess follows along, for the most part, and brings you to the area where an acolyte is being held.
The boy sits in the corner with his arms around his knees. He says, “the Lady of Graves could not help me... I was powerless! It promised to reveal its secrets to me. It asked me to dig up graves. It said that she who wears the spiral of death would come for me... so I am waiting. It said she would take me east, beyond the Seven Crypts, to the Ever-Dying.”
Seltyiel perks up, "Sounds like yet another clue. I suggest we wait here for Obahar, and if he does not arrive within a quarter hour, seek him out at his place of residence. Acceptable?"
She shakes her head, but suggests that the other members of the Pathfinder Lodge might be able to direct you there. And it is true, once you find your way back to the lodge the agents there are able to point you in the direction of Obahars home.
Obahar’s home is a dilapidated, ancient stone structure that seems out of place among the more modern dwellings surrounding it. While originally three stories tall, most of the top story fell away long ago. The front door hangs slightly ajar.
Kontha sniffs around the perimeter, three different scents being the most recent. One smells of dust and old leather, the other smells of scrolls and buildings, recognizable to her as Obahar, and the last is blade oil and poison. Only Obahar's scent comes from the house at the moment, the others leading away into the city.
Seltyiel pulls his sword loose and prepares to enter the building. Inside the home, you discover that Obahar lives an austere life—the main floor consists of a tiny kitchen, a sitting room, and a simple bedroom. The second floor is a single large room—the scholar’s study—with a blocked staircase that once led to the third floor. Obahar crouches on a desk in his study, wearing only one shoe and chewing on a scroll. There are bite scars on his neck and shoulder, though they have mostly healed.
A voice calls out from behind you, "Good thing I was around, or the old man would be long dead. Those wounds were a lot uglier before I showed up." An armored half-orc walks into the building behind you, hands away from his weapons. "I am Zurnzal, and I am here on the behalf of Grandmaster Torch to offer aid to the Pathfinders, on agreement with his conditions of course."
Zurnzal is a difficult read, but he seems true to his words.
"Clearly this is the work of that Doru that's been causing so much trouble. Its venom quickly drains men of their wits. Would you like to hear Grandmaster Torch's offer?"
Zurnzal explains, “My employer has been watching recent events in Merab with keen interest. The doru attacks seemed to draw the eyes of Amenopheus’ agents, and Grandmaster Torch shares mutual concerns with the Sapphire Sage; both of them think there is more to the sage jewels than anyone dares to believe. I am here to offer information to aid in your search for the Dungeons of the Ever-Dying”—the half-orc smiles knowingly—“if you give the Society’s guarantee that when it comes time to act on the threat to the Jeweled Sages—whatever it may be—Torch will be welcome to stand alongside his, ah, colleagues, in the Society.”
Seltyiel shakes his head, looking over some of the papers under Obahar, pushing him off the table in the process. "It looks like we have what we need to find the Dungeons ourselves with these notes from Obahar. I leave it to the rest of the party to make a decision, but know that we don't need your help mercenary," he finishes with a sneer.
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"While I have never met Grandmaster Torch, I do remember sharing a cool-turned-hot bath with him more than once. I certainly don't mind collaborating, but it seems by brother in arms has at least a mild apprehension." Dissa looks to Seltyiel, and smiles at Zurnzal. "I cannot make any guarantees on behalf of the Society, as you and Grandmaster Torch both know."
With that, he tries to glance at the papers. "That said, I certainly would report the cooperation upon the completion of our exploration. I would be sure to mention that we gained aid, and with that aid you requested to participate in a future endeavor. I believe we all know that is the most authority anyone in this room carries. Thusly, I anticipate you have been instructed to provide the information."
Dissa grins further, pressing the advantage. "I would also assume, if we were to offer any guarantee, that you know we are incompetent fools without respect for station. I've heard your employer has disdain for those who act without authority, and even more so for those who fail to act despite authority. We will act, and we will enter the Dungeons of the Ever-Dying, and I doubt Grandmaster Torch will think favorably on your withholding of information despite our concessions."
Dissa extends his hand, palm up, in anticipation. "The map, if you please."
Zurnzal shakes his head, "Sons of Tsukiyo, always thinking about step 3 and forgetting what steps 1 was and that step 2 is necessary for the last." He spreads his hands rather innocently, "I don't have a map, merely more clues should you choose to accept them, but the half-elf seems to think you can get to the Dungeon without my assistance. Perhaps I should be on my way, let you figure things out on your own." He walks away, slipping into the shadows and disappears from the area quickly.
Seltyiel looks back down at the documents, "These should help us get to what we need. But what do we do with him?" he points at Obahar.
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"My word is good, but Dissa speaks true - we are not the Decemvirate, to speak for the society, nor even lodge leaders. But we can put in a good word with Amenophous. Or at least, I will."
Realizing she's talking to empty air, Marina turns to Seltyiel.
"If his wits really are addled by a div, I think I can restore them. Give me a moment, and we'll see.
Marina casts lesser restoration on Obahar, attempting to fix wisdom damage (and automatically removing fatigue).
"I have a few scrolls here as well if need be too, but he should also get better with proper care.
With Marina's spell Obahar comes to a bit, seeming to regain some of his sensibilities, though he is extremely absentminded. He can even put Dissa to shame with his ramblings.
Seltyiel continues examining the documents on the table scratching at his chin. "Cross-referencing everything we know with the stuff here will take..." he counts on his fingers, figuring a time, "about an hour. Someone should take Obahar to the Lodge or a church to recover while we look into the location of the Dungeons."
An abandoned shrine to an unknown deity sits where the Dungeons of the Ever-Dying are supposedly located. The people of Merab go about their business in the surrounding area—a relatively unremarkable market and temple district. None of the citizens come close to this shrine, and a few make warding gestures as they hurriedly pass by.
Seltyiel pulls his scimitar from its scabbard and loosens the top from his component pouch. "This is the place. Ready to go in?"
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In transit Dissa will offer to carry Obahar to the Temple of Sarenrae. It seems like he'll be a good companion to the construction worker.
"Um, Seltyiel, can you cast this spell from my scroll? It's supposed to sharpen the blade of my Fauchard. The arcanists of the Dark Archive told me any magic user could do it for me." Dissa brings out his scroll of Keen Edge and offers it to Seltyiel.
Dissa will cast Bless Weapon, Fallback Strategy, and Protection from Evil from his wands before entering the Dungeon of the Ever-Dying.
"Ready!"
The Magus takes time casting spells and making preparations, electing to keep one scroll on his belt in case of emergencies and stuffing the other in his pack.
A crumbling, twisting tunnel leads deep beneath the streets of Merab past layers of previous occupation before winding down the side of a large cavern. At the bottom, a twenty-foot-high windowless structure occupies much of this space. Stairs lead to platforms on the north and west sides of the building, but no other entrances are visible from here.
Stairs ascend five feet to a wide, open platform with doors to the west, south, and east leading into the building. Narrow pillars support a stone overhang 20 feet above. Approaching you can hear the sounds of chanting from beyond the south door. That particular door is locked, though the others nearby are not.
"Whatever they're doing sounds complex. It may take a while for them to finish and will allow us the element of surprise. Since none of us are good with locks, do we head east or west?"