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Serwe is a wayang, a child-creature of shadow. She carries herself like a worldly traveler. Dark woolspun robes cover her inky black skin. She wears her grey hair cut short, almost shaved to the scalp and her cat-eyes dart from here to there with fleeting interest's seize her attention.
Every so often as she draws deeply on her carved pipe you catch glimpses of small bleach-dotted scars. A multitude of tiny bleach points create an exotic pattern of geometric shapes, almost tattoo like. She bears them from neckline to ankle. For wayang, geometry is sacred.
She's adorned in various trinkets and scroll cases. On her hip hangs a small heavy crossbow and a pouch of bolts. She seems relaxed, occasionally blowing clouds of purple smoke into the sky. Sometimes as children pass by you catch her watching them, smiling.
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The party is brought to Drendle Dreng's office in the Grand Lodge.
"Good news, everyone! I'm sending you to Varisia."
"Recently, the Pharasmins in Kaer Maga have noticed that bodies are disappearing from the Godsmouth Ossuary. At first only a few cadavers went missing, but the number has increased rapidly over the last few weeks. At the behest of the church of Pharasma, the Pathfinder Society has been asked to descend into the sealed lower levels of the ossuary. I have selected you to represent us in this matter."
"I have arranged transportation for you to Kaer Maga. Once you arrive, seek Valanthe Nerissia. She will get you into the ossuary, which you should clear of any and all threats. Above all, get to the bottom of the missing cadavers."
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Cornelia nods to Serwe, recognizing the wayang from the Archives, as the group is ushered into Dregn's office. The news catches Cornelia slightly off-guard and the normally self-controlled woman startles at the new, stuttering a little at the unexpected news. "B-but milord Dreng. I-I've never been out in the field before!" Her left eyelid twitches occasionally as she speaks, clearly nervous!
She wears her thick, black hair pulled back into an orderly tail, gathered at the base of her skull. She wears a burgundy blouse and a long, dark-gray woolen skirt. Everything about her appears neat and tidy, almost meticulous, but almost in an obsessively orderly manner...
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From the corner a small dark thing, dressed in roughspun wool robes of nondescript grey and taking a deep drag from her carved pipe, moves forward to address Dreng diectly. As she passes by Cornelia, an acolyte of the Archives she knows somewhat from the Citadel's darkened hallways, she places a tiny ink-colored hand covered in tiny white bleach-dots of raised fles on the girl's shoulder and gives her a firm squeeze.
Softly to the oracle, the wayang whispers "Steady yourself acolyte; you are ready for this. And, Auntie Serwe will be here to guide you should your path become dark. It will be an advnture, yes? And a chance to get out of the Arvhives." she confides in the young Chelaxian.
"As to the matter at hand Venture Captain, I am of the Dark Mother's children. A true Pharasmite." the little wayang woman curls two fingers and slashes the air in front of her, warding off the evil eye associated with grave robbery and necromancy. "Foul business, and we will see an end to it."
Almost as afterthought, she adds, "What can you tell us of Kaer Maga? I, for one, have never been to this city and any information would be helpful. Are Pathfinders looked upon with kindness or will this be a mission of discretion as well?" with her final question Auntie Serwe lights her pipe and inhales deeply as her exotic herbal blend catches flame.
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Cornelia starts at the hand upon her shoulder, spinning around suddenly to stare at Serwe with wild eyes. For just a moment the wayang witch can feel Cornelia trembling beneath her touch and believes she may have heard a ghost of a whisper of a strange, guttural word... Yet it was probably just an echo? By if so, why did Cornelia let out the slightest of whimpers upon hearing it?
Serwe's words, though, seem to have the soothing effect for which she had hoped. The young woman takes a deep, steadying breath before looking down at her with a slight smile. "Yes, an adventure..." her voice small and weak.
She looks back down at Serwe once again and lifts her shoulder. "Getting out of the archives does sound appealing." Cornelia's voice sounds more confident this time. "Varisia must be filled with all manner of relics that require studying!" Now those gathered around can hear the excitement building.
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"Now that's a good girl" the dark little creature cooooos patting the back of the young acolytes hand. "You look quite well dressed my dear. Look at these plain woolspun robes Serwe wears. Warm? Yes. Functional? Yes. Fashionable? No! ...,er well, in certain arctic covens the sack-cloth cassock is quite the..." the dark little figure cuts herself short, catching her own ramble and stopping short with a bemused smile. "You must forgive, dear one. Auntie Serwe can get carried away weaving a yarn, yes? Please do not hesitate to halt my tongue should It ever grow wearisome." she concludes good natured'ly.
Sitting in the chair she came from she packs her ornate pipe once again and fills the room with a familiar purple haze. Leaning forward to whisper to the Chelaxian after collecting her thoughts, "I am sorry, I forgot to ask you dear. What are your areas of expertise? Did you receive your training at the Archive? I like to know how my companions interact with the world around them. I myself am trained in the healing arts from my mother, and her mother before her. I can also put an ogre to sleep with one word, but this is no thing. I would like to know more about you if you are comfortable in the telling?" the wayang asks with an air of genuine curiosity.
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Haha! I made it you daft old bat! calls a handsomely dressed halfling from the door a bright smile on his face and a dashing feathered cap on his head. He wags a finger mockingly at Dreng as he marches into the room. You were worried I wouldn't make it back in time! You should have known better! No petty 'Goblin Guild' could keep the great busy for long! The halfling gives the venture captain a big hug and the turns to the other party members, taking off his hat he give them all a sweeping bow, Sir Dydimus, at your service.
Looking back at the door with a confused look he puts his fingers to this mouth and whistles. In trots a shaggy white and grey dog. There you are Ambrosius, don't be scared. Come and meet some new friends!
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Standing to greet the halfling and his pup, the dark little wayang woman in grey wool-spun robes steps forward from the corner she had been in previously. She moves over and nods her head as way of greeting. "A pleasure to meet you Sir Dydimus. I am Serwe Incatra." the small woman offers a hand to the halfling, offering a handshake.
Serwe seems pleasantly suprised to not be the only Pathfinder of short stature slated to partake as an envoy to Kaer Maga.
After spending a few moments showing genuine love to the shaggy pup she turns to the young Chelaxian acolyte. "Might I also introduce a colleague of mine, Lady Cornelia D'Malheur. She will be accompanying our expedition" Serwe says, beaming a black-toothed smile at the well dressed woman in the other chair.
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Cornelia smiles when Serwe compliments her clothing. "Yes, mother always insisted we dress accordingly to our status." she shakes her head with a slight smile. "Even though we haven't been considered nobles since the family was run out Cheliax after the War." She clears her throat and brushes out an errant wrinkle in her skirt.
"Well... my expertise is more geared towards identifying and categorizing magical items. I was trained by the Archives and I also learned some skills to assist in acquiring said items as well. I also have... some magical abilities as well..." She fails to elaborate further.
She smiles politely when Sir Dydiumus makes his entrance and offers her hand to him after Serwe introduces her. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Dydimus." When she spots the dog she lets out a surprising squeal of joy. "Hello, Ambrosius, you're a handsome fellow!" She likewise pets and scratches the dog's ears.
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"Standing atop one of the highest spots of the Storval Rise, the cliff-top city of Kaer Maga is built inside the ruins of an ancient fortress: a six-sided ring of 80-foot-high seamless stone, stretching more than a half mile in diameter and topped with towers of every shape and design. Also known as the Asylum Stone, Kaer Maga has served as a refuge for exiles, misfits, and ne'er-do-wells fleeing persecution and prosecution for thousands of years, and is known throughout Golarion as a place where anyone can fit in, and where anything can be bought and sold."
"But, you won' spend much, if any, time in Kaer Maga proper. At the behest of the church of Pharasma, you will descend into the sealed Godsmouth Ossuary, find out what's happening to the dead bodies, and make it stop."
"Other teams of Pathfinders will deal with the Pharasmins requests for the lower levels of the Ossuary."
"Your contact in Kaer Maga is a Pharasmin priestess named Valanthe Nerissia. You can find her in the Godsmouth Cathedral in the Bottoms District of the city."
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Serwe sits silent, puffing out ringlets of smoke every so often as the instructions are relayed.
What did Grandmama Esmenet say about Kaer Maga, she read me so many Varisian stories as a child...has anything like this happened before? Is this Ossuary notable for holding any infamous dead? Come on Serwe, think!
Serwe opens her mind to a potential flood of information as her index-like mind slowly spins round, weaving a steady web of knowledge.
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Carved on the cliff face below the city are numerous representations of gigantic bodies and faces, though who these titanic carvings actually represent is a matter of some conjecture—the vanished runelords of ancient Thassilon, forgotten kings, dead gods, or someone else. Some of these massive sculptures lead into the Undercity, a dizzying network of caverns, tunnels, and chambers, both natural and man-made, that riddle the cliffs beneath Kaer Maga. (Picture)
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One of the most famous entrances to the Undercity lies in the mouth of one of the giant faces known as the Unnamed King, and opens onto a series of ancient catacombs where the honored dead of Kaer Maga are interred. From their cathedral in the Bottoms district of the city above, the clergy of Pharasma oversee the Godsmouth Ossuary, the most prestigious place in Kaer Maga to be buried—and the Pharasmins charge a hefty fee for the honor.
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Recently, the Pharasmins have noticed that bodies are disappearing from the ossuary. At first only a few cadavers went missing, but the number has increased rapidly over the last few weeks. Increased reports of undead deep in the crypts has led them to believe that the source of the problem lies in the sealed levels below the main crypts. A heresy has taken root in the Godsmouth Ossuary and must be stopped.
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Lighting her pipe and drawing deep, Serwe weaves a fact-filled yarn to everyone present. She describes in vivid detail a city of monuments built into a high overlooking cliff-face. She grimaces a bit as she describes the extortionary rates for burial, showing her distaste for taxing the dead more than was necessary. "Fellow Pathfinders, a great heresy is a'foot. We must root it out and put an end to this grave robbery."
Suddenly, the dark little woman is overcome with a fit of the giggles, her eyes tear with laughter. "I....hah, I am sorry my friends, please forgive my outburst. I find it darkly funny that the 'robbers' are being 'robbed', if the exuberant prices to be buried in the Ossuary are as high as I seem to recall.". She clutches at a small Pharasmin holy symbol around her neck and does her best to regain her composure.
"Blaspheme's must be handled friends. When shall we depart?" she addresses the last bit to Drendle Dreng, they man who'd brought them all here today.
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Cornelia listens intently to Serwe as she describes the great city of Kaer Maga... distantly wondering what sort of dark and terrible artifacts could be found within those walls. Absently her right hand fingers the black pouch at her waist. She smiles at the wayang's outburst and giggles a little herself, despite the macabre topic.
"I agree! Reasons such as this is why I believe I would like to be cremated after I pass. The thought of my soulless body being used for disturbing, god awful necromantic purposes..." She shivers. "Yes, I believe cremation is definitely the way to go."
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Travelling from another destination, one of the Pathfinders is late to arrive.
Now in his late forties, the man is tall, blonde, and handsome, and despite being past his prime, looks like he ought to be out saving princesses and slaying dragons. His dirty blonde hair is bound into three long braids.
The broad-shouldered paladin seems a warrior's warrior. His armor and weapons are mismatched, the pieces coming from a dozen different lands and cultures; yet worn by the man, they seem natural.
He greets the others heartily, despite not knowing them.
"Well met," the paladin says. "I am Ethendril h'Caramore. I have also been briefed on our mission," he adds. "Should any of you have any needs on our mission that I might assist you with, please do not hesitate to ask it."
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Serwe nods, seemingly content with her questions. "Shall we set off on this grand journey my friends? We have far to travel and a Heresy to thwart." she says conclusively, the word hersesy slides off her tongue like slithering snake. At long last, taking a long draw off of her pipe, she stands.
As the wayang adjusts her wool-spun robes she nods at their captain on her way out the door.
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Sections of the Advanced Race Guide are legal per the PFS additional resources. :-)
Yes, your purchases are good!
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OK. We'll fast forward to Kaer Maga.
The journey was uneventful. We pick up at the Godsmouth Cathedral in Kaer Maga’s Bottoms district. The party has been summoned for a midnight meeting with their contact, a Pharasmin priest named Valanthe Nerissia. In a side chapel dedicated to a martyred saint, she explains the problem:
"Thank you all for coming quickly. We desperately need your discretion in this matter."
"I cannot believe it. Interred bodies have been disappearing from the Ossuary. At first we thought it was a misunderstanding or a clerical error because only one or two bodies went missing. But, every time we go into the Ossuary, the number of "misplaced" bodies increases! We believe that the source of the problem lies in the sealed levels below the main crypts."
"Unknown to any outside the church, the Ossuary is nearly full, and the priests need more space to continue these burials. There are some in our order who would rather keep quiet and count our blessings. But this is no way to respect our forebears."
Specifically addressing Cornelia and Serwe, she pleads, "There are reports of undead in the lower levels. We must make sure that those interred are laid to rest! They cannot be risen to unlife!"
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Noding at her fellow Pharasmin while she rubs her silver holy symbol, the little wayang seems deep in her own thoughts.
Catching herself before laughing, not sure if her fellow Pharamin intended to make a necromancy joke, she addresses the priest with concern.
Moving dead bodies, a cleric-al error! Bahah hah, ok straighten up Serwe, work to be done!
"We will show the utmost discretion in this matter. Grave robbery is an abomination and those interred deserve peaceful rest. I have several questions" the dark little wayang woman rasps as she lights her little pipe.
"When did this start.?" she asks first, followed by several others in rapid succession.
"Are there any connection between the bodies taken,have you kept a list?"
"Have you consulted with any locals or was the Society your first contact on this matter?"
"What makes you think the sealed crypts hold they key, have noises been heard or evidence been found that the sealed crypts have been disturbed?"
"If undead truly roam the lower levels than this may indeed be a Cleric'al error. I've known clerics with the power to raise the dead. Could this be necromancy from within? Are there any ways into the crypt from below? Might there be an entrance located in this Mouth of the underking?" she asks finally, her gaze drifts around the room as she asks most of her questions.
"Worry not priestess, if there are undead then we shall handle it." Serwe says reassuringly.
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Know Religion/History on the saint this chapel is dedicated to.
The chapel is dedicated to St. Illiska, a Varisian midwife who ran a hospice for unwed mothers and personally delivered over a thousand healthy babies.
Moving dead bodies, a cleric-al error! Bahah hah
;-P
"When did this start.?" she asks first, followed by several others in rapid succession.
"Are there any connection between the bodies taken,have you kept a list?"
"Have you consulted with any locals or was the Society your first contact on this matter?"
"What makes you think the sealed crypts hold they key, have noises been heard or evidence been found that the sealed crypts have been disturbed?"
"If undead truly roam the lower levels than this may indeed be a Cleric'al error. I've known clerics with the power to raise the dead. Could this be necromancy from within? Are there any ways into the crypt from below? Might there be an entrance located in this Mouth of the underking?" she asks finally, her gaze drifts around the room as she asks most of her questions.
"Worry not priestess, if there are undead then we shall handle it." Serwe says reassuringly.
It started a few weeks ago.
As far as we can tell, there is no connection between the missing bodies.
We consulted amongst ourselves. But, as I said, some within the Pharasmin clergy would rather take a pragmatic approach to this and merely stay thankful that the Ossuary is no longer full. We must exercise extreme discretion to avoid creating a divide within our ranks.
The other questions are lost in the verbal rapid-fire.
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Cornelia listens to the report quietly, occasionally smoothing an errant wrinkle here and there. "Yes, discretion is the better party of valor, or so they say. I echo my wayang companion when I say we shall get to the root of this mystery. Are there any relics or artifacts which may be the cause of this disappearance? Or perhaps any of your own order that have gone missing? Or shown a large amount of interest in the tombs recently?"
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"Thank you all for your understanding. So far, only the dead have gone missing. Since the Ossuary is a significant source of income, there are many who have an interest in its operation."
High Priestess of Death Delana Karaheis: A severe and imposing woman, Delana is the church's public face and de facto leader. She oversees the Godsmouth Ossuary, and refuses to let anything jeopardize the power and prestige of the church and the ossuary.
High Priestess of Birth Maris Jelasco: A skilled midwife and nurse, Maris takes a secondary role behind Delana, and spends most her time in the Sanctuary of Life helping expectant mothers and delivering babies.
High Priest of Fate Mahajan Sandeep: Mahajan was once a powerful cleric, but his visions eventually drove him mad, and he was sequestered in the Sanctuary of Fate with his charges. Mahajan takes no part in the daily operations of the church except during his more lucid moments, when his fellow high priests bring him those issues requiring the attentions of all three high priests.
Cryptsmistress Valanthe Nerissia: A member of the mysterious Sepulcherine order and a favorite of High Priestess Delana, Valanthe has risen quickly through the church's hierarchy. Delana has tasked Valanthe with solving the mystery of the bodies disappearing from the Godsmouth Ossuary.
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Serwe waits til the group is together, listening patiently. Her expression gives nothing away of the goings on inside. She does offer one final question as their host is about to depart.
"How do you prefer us enter the Ossuary to begin our investigation. Are we allowed free passage? I would not want to risk our mission here - I feel as if there is a problem to deal with here. I am aware of High Priestess Delana's stern nature. Is she aware of the our presence?"
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After the woman departs, Serwe reveals what she knows before offering her thoughts on the matter at hand.
"I have two ideas, one may connect to another but only time shall tell." the dark little creature says as she fills her pipe.
"First; this is a business first and foremost, at least once you climb up the hierarchy of power within the church. I expect the Ossuary brings in a great deal of coin. As it gets full, the profit margins have shrank. Bodies are being removed in order to make room for new. Obvious, yes, but where are they going, these missing cadavers? Hmm?" Serwe says, lighting her pipe and inhaling deeply.
Exhaling, she continues. "Second, perhaps we should investigate Kaer Maga itself before we delve into the Ossuary. If a person of low moral standards would remove a corpse from the Ossuary in order to make a coin what is to stop this same person from selling those bodies in order to make two coins! Yes, do you see how it could be possible? Every city has it's underbelly and, to many who live in the shadows, a corpse is a commodity. If we could perhaps ask the right person or make the right bribe we could find out who in Kaer Maga would purchase corpses. I think it is worth a look at least."
Having shared her thoughts, she smokes silently and awaits input from the others.