The Red Redoubt of Karamoss once stood on a ridgeline some two miles north of Absalom, overlooking the city. The tales say that it was a tall, sweeping red-grey structure, like an arrowhead balanced on two graceful pylons, altogether nearly a thousand feet high. It was apparently raised in one night, an astonishing feat by anyone’s standards; even so, what was built in a night was brought down in mere seconds, when the forces of the city, led by the druid circles of Absalom, finally counterattacked and destroyed Karamoss’ mighty stronghold. The vast fortress tumbled and fell down the ridge, sending dust and chunks of metal across many square miles and high into the air. The scavengers of the city’s underworld feasted on the debris for months, and word slowly spread across Avistan and Garund about the many strange and wonderful treasures that has once hidden within the mighty Red Redoubt.
That was many centuries ago, however, and time and human greed together have wiped most of the traces of the Red Redoubt’s fallen glory away. All that remains are the bases of the two columns that once held it up, a pair of D-shaped ruins facing each other along the ridgeline. Each one is several hundred feet across, and hundreds of yards of empty ground separate them. To the east, the ruins are surrounded by the remains of the Redoubt, an unbroken red-grey wall that reaches forty feet into the air or more. A single entrance – what was clearly once a door – is visible, at the back of a deep recess in the straight section of the wall, some one hundred feet wide and roughly that deep. The remains of the walls curve inward toward their top, suggesting that the recess was once covered over, and what look like massive doors that would have sealed the entire recess are visible, just peeking out from within a small gap along each side.
The same recess appears in the other set of ruins, but the westward section was clearly the more damaged one; the walls are gone in many places all the way to the ground, and no section is more than twenty feet high. Through those gaps you can see an eerie, unearthly terrain, the ground covered in pipes, tubing, collections of metal wires bound together in rubbery casings, shattered crystals whose shards still glitter in the early morning sunlight, and more, so packed together that crossing it would be a matter more of crawling or climbing than walking. In the distance, more walls contain an inner set of ruins, whose contents are entirely invisible from your current vantage.
This is the view that confronts you as you approach the Red Redoubt on the small path that cuts up the ridge from the City at the Center of the World. Each of you has, for your own reasons, agreed to explore the Red Redoubt at the behest of the Pathfinder Society’s Venture-Captain Shevala. The meeting with Shevala, in an inn near the Pathfinder’s Grand Lodge called the Twisted Ladder, was an odd one:
Shevala Iorae was an attractive Varisian woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, but her eyes glittered with an unusual intensity as she spoke to you all. “It is a simple mission. The Society frequently uses the Redoubt as a training area for new recruits, but we do not wish to put anyone in danger. My usual agents are otherwise engaged, and I need the area swept for new dangers and cleared before our next training period can begin. The reward for this task is 900 gold eagles, divided amongst yourselves as you see fit. Also, the Society pays close attention to the, ah, ‘outside contractors’ who perform exceptionally well. Perform this task as I require, and additional contracts may well be in your future, whether you choose to join the Society or not.”
Leaning forward, the Venture-Captain placed a sheaf of papers and a small leather satchel on the table as well. From the satchel she withdrew a stack of what seemed like compasses, although some of you recognized them instantly as wayfinders. In each wayfinder, in the slot where an ioun stone should go, an unusual crystal had instead been inserted; at your incredulous looks, however, Shevala shook her head. “It is not an ioun stone,” she said firmly. “The Society is testing the creation of other stones that might also work with wayfinders, and these crystals are part of those tests. Your assignment includes carrying these wayfinders for the duration of your explorations and recording any changes or unusual behaviors you notice in either the crystal or the wayfinder itself as you use them. Ideally, there should be none; but research is not about the ideal.” Gesturing to the papers, she concluded, ”The details of your assignment are there. Do you have any questions?”
Now you stand before the Red Redoubt, its secrets awaiting your discovery…
Macawi listens with interest. He ignores the papers, reaching for one of the wayfinders to examine it with interest.
In a deep, rumbling voice, he asks, "What is this? Macawi get one, too?"
Macawi listens with interest. He ignores the papers, reaching for one of the wayfinders to examine it with interest.
In a deep, rumbling voice, he asks, "What is this? Macawi get one, too?"
Standing before the Red Redoubt, Macawi is fascinated by the device provided by the venture-captain. He's not even looking at the ruins at this point.
Mala fingers the wayfinder in her pocket as she stares out at the ruins in front of her. There is no trepidation in her gaze, only delightful wonderment. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath of that wonderment, then with a wide smile she starts forward, heading for what look to be the main doors, her eyes peering about her as she goes.
Sylvalia shoulders her rather full backpack and studies the entrance to the Redoubt. It is plain to see that she likely overpacked, though she bears its weight without complaint. She wears no armor, but a pristine and finely tailored explorer's outfit that looks exceedingly out-of-place here amongst the ruins. Her wayfinder hangs by a leather cord around her neck. She carries a very simple shortbow and longsword of sturdy but old design. There is dust in the creases of the worked leather of the scabbard, as if it had been on a shelf for years. The arrows look new, however.
When she sees Mala start forward, she too will approach the main doors.
A tall, slim Keleshite man walks with the others. His clothes are dusty and travel-worn. The man wears a strange weapon on his hip--a pistol from Alkenstar. It looks a bit old, but cared-for nonetheless. The tall man seems to have a permanent scowl on his face; even when he "smiles" it is nothing more than a grimace of held-back disdain.
He growls a bit to himself and can't contain his annoyance at the excitement of the unblooded academics. He looks to the big lug, sees his child-like antics, sighs, and strides in front of the gnome and elf, holding his arm out to bar their path.
Best be cautious about this, or they'll be sending another group of students to "explore" our corpses. He draws his gun and slowly moves towards the entrance.
Perception
Mala pishes softly and makes to walk under the man's arm. "Who said anything about not beiong careful?" Her eyes are still scanning.
The squat, rectangular man looks at the gunslinger.
Don't worry, slim. I'll take care of the ladies. Just stay outta my way. Can't be looking after all of ya at once.
He tilts his head until his neck makes a loud crack, and he briskly walks up beside Mala, whispering:
Seeing the others moving forward, Macawi tucks the wayfinder into a pocket and moves to keep up, readying his shield as he goes. In his deep rumbling voice, he asks, "You want Macawi watch behind us?"
Perception
Mala looks up at Garrick with an innocent expression.
Sylvalia's brow furrows as she regards the two ruined structures. Adjusting the straps on her shoulders slightly, she turns to the group. Our first of certain to be many choices lies ahead. Which approach shall we take? The eastern half appears to be the more intact and defensible of the two; but should any brigands have taken refuge there, they may be complacent. The western half affords us more means of ingress, but defenders may have fortified those with traps, triplines, deadfalls or pits.
After a moment's consideration, she ventures, I would suggest our approach be via the eastern ruins. One way in means one way out, so less chance of enemies slipping around to flank us. It will likely be guarded by the living, and as such be vulnerable to the spells I have selected and prepared this morning. However, this only holds true if my analysis is correct. I make no claims to prescience.
Sylvalia's brow furrows as she regards the two ruined structures. Adjusting the straps on her shoulders slightly, she turns to the group. Our first of certain to be many choices lies ahead. Which approach shall we take? The eastern half appears to be the more intact and defensible of the two; but should any brigands have taken refuge there, they may be complacent. The western half affords us more means of ingress, but defenders may have fortified those with traps, triplines, deadfalls or pits.
After a moment's consideration, she ventures, I would suggest our approach be via the eastern ruins. One way in means one way out, so less chance of enemies slipping around to flank us. It will likely be guarded by the living, and as such be vulnerable to the spells I have selected and prepared this morning. However, this only holds true if my analysis is correct. I make no claims to prescience.
Well-stated. I agree. I think we should spread out a bit and approach slowly.
We'll eventually end up in both places anyhow, so if Sylvalia says east is better, then east has my vote also.
Hearing the people behind her chatting about the direction and apparently choosing east, Mala alters her course to head in that direction.
Having heard no dissent - or other instructions - Macawi will concentrate on watching the terrain alongside and behind the party.
He expresses no opinion, for or against, as they discuss where to start. He continues to follow the rest as they make their way to the east entrance.
Knowledge:Local:
The massive walls of the eastern ruins mount up before you as you head toward the lone doorway, set into the back of a cavernous recess. A short ramp connects the smooth metallic floor to the uneven ground outside, and your footsteps ring out with echoing clangs as you step in. Whatever treasures might once have lain here have long since been carried off.
Though the area remains open to the elements - the roof, if indeed that is what you would call it, was sheared away when the Redoubt fell so many centuries ago - long shadows cast by the midmorning sun wrap the far side of the recess in gloom. As a result, it is not until you step onto that metallic floor that you are able to make out two human figures standing near the doorway, clearly guarding it. One is dark-skinned and curly-haired, with the long, rangy build common to many Garundi; the other is broad-shouldered and pale, with yellow hair and drooping mustaches, most likely Ulfen, from the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Both carry crossed scimitars on their backs and crossbows in their hands, and their leather armor bears a few fluttering red patches, indicators of a common allegiance. When you come into view, the two men exchange glances, and after only a moment's pause, raise their crossbows in tandem and prepare to fire. (Their movements have an eerie similarity.)
Initiative
Initiative 1d20 + 1
Initiative:
Initiative
Mala drops the small pack that had been slung over one shoulder to the ground as she crouches down, pulling her crossbow around to point at the guards as she does. "We don't need to fight about this! We just want to get past and have a look inside!" she calls out as she fits a bolt into her weapon.
Macawi will move to interpose himself and his shield between the guards and Mala. He will also draw a javelin.
Foolishly trusting in his armor, Sparky approaches the guards with a big grin on his face. "Come on guys, there is space enough for all of us in there, isn't it. We just want to have a look around."
Noting that one of the guards appears Ulfen, Sylvalia will switch to Skald.
Garrick holds his arm in front of him in a strange circular motion as he advances forward quickly, not bothering to draw the crossbow slung across his back.
Hiding behind crossbows? I'd expect as much from a Garundi, but I thought you Ulfen were supposed to be mighty warriors. Throw your weapons down and leave this place, or use them at your own peril.
Noting that one of the guards appears Ulfen, Sylvalia will switch to Skald.
** spoiler omitted **Diplomacy 1d20+5
Noting that one of the guards appears Ulfen, Sylvalia will switch to Skald.
** spoiler omitted **Diplomacy 1d20+5
Initiative:
For a moment, it almost seems as though Sylvalia's words are getting through to the man - he hesitates, the crossbow wavering, and his companion looks at him quizzically. The moment passes, however, as soon as Garrick charges forward, shouting a challenge, and the two men fire - one at Garrick, and the other at the looming half-giant.
As soon as they fire, the two men drop their crossbows and advance to flank Garrick, readying a scimitar in each hand as they go.
Cursing the darkness, Sparky draws his scimitar and moves to engage guard #2 (assuming that he is still standing).