Venture-Captain Drandle Drang looks tired as he calls an emergency meeting in the middle of night at his chambers in the Grand Lodge. “I’m sorry to call you in on such short notice and on such a dark night, but a friend of the Society needs your help immediately.” From an adjoining chamber, an elegantly dressed woman of middle age with olive skin and long, straight black hair and piercing eyes steps into the room. “Allow me to introduce to you Hamaria Blakros, of the esteemed Blakros family, whose name I’m sure you all know.”
Hamaria sits at Dreng’s side, smooths her satin dress over her knees, and speaks in a clear though pained voice. “I’m afraid my forebears made a terrible mistake, and I need you to help remedy the situation. When the Blakroses were first gaining a financial and social foothold centuries ago, my ancestors made a pact called the Penumbral Accords with a strange organization on the Shadow Plane called the Onyx Alliance, which granted us trade routes through its dark realm to avoid unpleasant searches, tariffs, and questions among the many parties with whom we traded. At the time, this was an invaluable service, but as our wealth and influence grew, the benefits became less pronounced. Now, almost five centuries later, we no longer want to pay the ongoing price of this agreement. Since that time, we’ve been providing a steady stream of slaves to the Onyx Alliance... including the eldest of our daughters each generation. This year we have two eldest daughters—my twins Eleanir and Michellia—and I refuse to let them be taken!
“But we can’t actively break the Penumbral Accords ourselves. We don’t know all the details other than our end of the bargain, which requires us to deliver slaves to our very own Blakros Museum on the night of each new moon—and to deliver the eldest Blackros daughter of each generation on the new moon after her 21st birthday. We are told to stay away until dawn, and have honored this command thus far. In every instance for generations, we’ve returned to find no sign of the slaves or our own heirs left in the building. They’ve got some device that lets them take our daughters to their plane, something that only functions one night a month, and only until dawn. That night is tonight, and my Eleanir and Michellia are already there! I need you to get in before the sun rises and deactivate or destroy whatever allows them to keep stealing our people. If that prevents them from ever threatening us and holding the Penumbral Accords over our heads again, even better.”
Dreng leans forward. “You understand, I’m sure, how valuable our relationship with the Blakros family is to the Decemvirate. Their assets at the museum are immense, and assisting the Lady Hamaria tonight will go along way to ensuring that both her family and our organization can form a long-lasting alliance that will benefit all parties.” He glances at Hamaria, who nods once in agreement. “I regret that Miss Teladren will not be able to join you, but we were not able to locate her, and we do not have the luxury of time to continue looking. You will have to make do without her, I'm afraid. Hurry to Blakros Museum, friends. There isn’t much time!”
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Gert whispers to Liam, "I'll bet Ana was smart and just didn't answer the door when they came knocking in the middle of the night."
Turning towards Hamaria, "Your daughters are already there, there is a device which will transport them to the Shadow Plane by morning, and we need to stop it. But you've never directly dealt with these Onyx Alliance folks?" Gert runs her hand over her new club. "I shall call you, Disable Device."
Lady Blakros nods at Gert. "That is about the sum of it. As long as you rescue my daughters, and destroy or deactivate whatever it is that allows the Onyx Alliance to steal our children from us, then you - and, indeed, the Pathfinder Society as a whole - will have my enduring gratitude."
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Liam stifles a yawn and blinks sleeping at them. He had stayed up late reading and as such, hadn't gotten that much sleep. He mumbles something in agreement to Gert.
As the tale goes, he seems to come more awake. And more uncomfortable.
"Ta be honest, m'lady, it seems like you shoulda hired a lawyer long ago ta try ta find some loophole outta this here contract. Lawyers seem to be good at that. But I suppose there isn't enough time at the present, now is there. I assume since it's your museum, you could provide us with a blueprint of the building?"
Lady Blakros seems to take offense at Liam's statements. "While I appreciate your expert legal opinion, "long ago" was not when my daughters were at risk, and, as I've said, we were not able to actively break the pact ourselves." She seems about launch into a tirade directed at Liam, but stops herself, smooths her skirts once more, and continues more calmly. "As for a blueprint, I did not have the time to search through the archives at the Hall of Records. I can, however, tell you that there are three exhibit halls, offices, and storerooms in the museum. Of course, that does you little good, because we have no idea where my daughters, much less the device itself, will be."
In the early days of Absalom, the Blakros Museum was originally the stronghold of an eccentric wizard. Abandoned for centuries, it was later bought by House Blakros, who turned it into a museum for their impressive collection of curiosities from across Golarion.
The mad astrologer Ralzeros the Overwatched built what is now the Blakros Museum thousands of years ago as an observatory to study distant worlds and even other planes of existence (and some say, to be studied by them). He later disappeared following a mage-duel with another of Absalom’s early wizards.
The wealthy and prominent House Blakros is a large, extended clan of eccentrics with trade contacts rivaling those of the Aspis Consortium, who made most of their money selling valuable antiquities across the border between Taldor and Qadira. Their daughters are known far and wide for their beauty, and marrying a Blakros woman is a sure path to power and riches.
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Veviane listens carefully and silently the whole time, pondering her answer. She opts for a cold tone and dry sarcasm. "Your sentiment is to be commended, Lady Blakros, and we will help you."
Then she prepares to leave in the Orphans' common room, gathering her scrolls and potions quickly before letting out "Truth be told, I'm not interested in her daughters' fate, but a contract is a contract, and the Society will gain in helping her. Let's head there, shall we?"
The Blakros Museum is a large gothic building that rises out of the night like a great looming shadow. As you approach, you don't note anything out of the ordinary.
Great pillars of hewn black stone support the vaulted ceiling of the Blakros Museum’s grand entryway, visible through its wide, double doors. Braziers mounted on the pillars cast white radiance from balls of continual light. A fossilized dinosaur skeleton occupies the northwest corner of the room.
Upon crossing the threshold, the air ripples and all visible surfaces shimmer as if they were momentarily composed of still, reflective liquid. As soon as the effect manifests, the strange sensation ends, leaving thick shadows covering all surfaces.
Wulfren's wayfinder flickers briefly, then goes dim, its light extinguished. Gert's light spell, however, is able to withstand the oppressive darkness and continues to illuminate the area around Old Lace. The white light of the braziers glows an arcane shade of blue, illuminating the shadowy form of a different skeleton that overlays the more solid dinosaur from moments ago.
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"You've had 21 years to try to figure somethin' out sooner." Liam mutters under his breath. It's a bit unclear if he's grumpy due to lack of sleep or because of the selfish, short-sightedness of Lady Blakros. Most likely it's a combination of the two.
He yawns, grumbling a bit more as he prepares to set off.
Liam fills the rest of the party in on what he remembers of the Blakros family and museum. "Originally, the museum was an observatory made by mad astrologer Ralzeros the Overwatched." "He disappeared after a duel with a wizard. The place went an' stayed abandoned for centuries 'til the Blakros bought it and turn it inta museum for their Gloarion curiosities. Lately, tha place has been known ta have a number of strange goin's on that they went and had the Pathfinder Society clean up for them. Donnae know what kind though."
"Well then, that's nice an' creepy," Liam mutters under his breath. "Any idea what that was?" He puts his hand against the doorway opening, testing if the barrier they came through has them trapped inside.
A shadowy wooden door stands closed against Liam's hand. Try as he might, he cannot push his way through it.
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Wulf loads his musket by the light of Gert's spell, and stays close behind the others.
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As soon as Old Lace steps foot in the hallway, the shadow skeleton begins moving!
The flames from Ic's wand blacken and crack the bones of the skeleton, but Gert's club meets only air. The creature, however, continues to move, twisting around to attack the nearest enemy: Gert!
The thing's teeth rake Gert's left arm, leaving bloody gashes in their wake!
Old Lace's talon scrapes across the bones of the skeleton, but has little noticeable effect. Liam does, however, get the dinosaur to expose its vulnerable flank to Gert.
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Wulfren move 10' west and 15' north. From his New position, he takes a clear shot at the creature!
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The dinosaur is able to avoid much of the damage of Veviane's spell. However, as it raises its skeletal head, Wulfren's shot rings out through the exhibit hall, the skull shatters, and the bones of the skeleton fall to the floor.
There are two signs over the western door. One, a brightly-lettered sign, reads "Treasures of Distant Goka". The other, shadowy and occupying the same space, reads in dark, block letters "COLD STORAGE - PERISHABLE SPECIMENS ONLY".
As you open the door, you see that dozens of mannequins dominate this room, each decorated in the trappings of distant Tian Xia. Ceremonial armor of samurai from Minkai and the silk gowns of courtly ladies catch the eye, but the delicate tea sets in long glass display cases seems out of place next to the strange shadowy figures leaning against the fan-decorated walls. Humanoid bodies encased in ice stand scattered throughout the room, and a glaze of dark rime covers the floor.
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Wulfren reloads with a normal bullet and stands ready to enter with the team.
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As a whole, the bodies are a grisly display of partially dissected humanoids and half-completed biological experiments. Each specimen is frozen in several inches of hard ice, and many have a rictus of pain and fear solidified on their cold, blue faces, and all of them have an identical black rune branded onto their foreheads.
While Liam is examining the bodies, he notices a movement out of the corner of his eye. The creature resembles a small, metallic cobra, its body made of overlapping iron plates, and its eyes pinpoints of red light.
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"Why, it's a metal cobra type thing. You're going ta hafta hit it hard. Or else do elemental damage, supposing you can get through its magical resistances. It's immune ta lots o' thing loike tha dino: sleep, mind effects, stun, paralysis. And lookout for its poisonous bite!" Liam warily regards the creature.