The Forgotten God (Table 2) (Inactive)

Game Master Rednal

They did eventually excuse themselves, intending to let you study in peace.

"...Zanaver." the prisoner eventually said, ignoring the platter of meat and fruit that Father Otiward had brought in earlier. He simply didn't have the stomach for food at the moment, not after what had just happened over a surprisingly short amount of time. "We just went where Priadan told us to. He said he'd had a vision that this was where all his wishes would be fulfilled, so we came." He didn't seem particularly happy to be speaking, but the events from earlier suggested he didn't have much of a choice, either. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

Seeing his reluctance to touch any of the food Father Otiward had brough, which she had thanked him for, Sevia shrugged and reached for an apple. Biting into it she chewed and...stopped to stare at the fruit in her hand, swallowing - then immediately setting upon the thing until only the core remained. "Gods...I never realized how food could be so enjoyable..." Sevia muttered to herself before ravenously digging in.

"Hmpf, well apparently prophecy isn't as clear as it used to be - if he really did receive some vision. I supposed if he wished for death so much he certainly did receive his due." Sevia morbidly concluded between bites, then finishing up the rest of her meal, noting with disinterest his apparent discomfort. "So 'Zanaver,' how did you end up in Priadan's employment? Tell me about your work with him. And why did you have those two villagers with you?" Sevia asked as she set aside her dishes and opened a neater, newer looking tome titled 'Gods of Golarion,' perusing its contents as she listened to him.

The priest simply stared at her for a few moments, then snorted with laughter. "You couldn't tell? Some Goddess. That girl is the most blessed child to be born around here in generations, and everyone knows that a richer offering is something the gods like; who'd bother with sacrificing a milk-maid to the Goddess of Death when they could offer someone who'd have become at least a High Priestess in her own right if she survived long enough?" He seemed to think this was something anyone would do - though, in fairness, it wasn't like most gods discouraged this sort of behavior, even among the peaceful and relaxed ones. Stopping a quarrel between two children was nice, but stopping a war was better. Any god of evil would be far more pleased with heinously evil crimes than petty deeds, and in the same vein, truly noble and heroic acts were recognized much more often than everyday kindnesses. In short? If you wanted to matter, go big or go home. "As for why I followed him... he may have been little more than a showman, but at least he wanted to change things, and that's far better than the parasites who just keep sucking a nation dry. It would be better for everyone if they were put out of their misery."

The only item of his appearance that seems to be a religious mark is a disk with four curved lines coming out of it, and the holes of a skull in the center of the disk. It's clearly the symbol of a deity of death, but not something you've ever seen before.

Sevia shot him a scowl, "Tread lightly - I'm not one to suffer fools." she told him, flipping through a few more pages of the book in front oh her. Fhanys being divinely touched was interesting; but not implausible, for both angels and demons alike were known to often spread their essence through mortals. Though, it did seem like a somewhat too coincidental that such a girl would be responsible, at least partly anyways, for her awakening. "Still, you are not incorrect. I can think of many Gods who would accept such an offering with delight..." Sevia trailed off. Of course, the mere fact he would've gone along with such an act dropped her opinion of him another step - even at her lowest she would've been disgusted by it. "Though, I do not recognize that symbol upon your robes and it has been vexing me, who's is it?" she asked as she placed another book atop the one she'd just been reading, this one entitled 'The Rise and Fall of Taldor.' Zanaver's bitter attitude was more than obvious and it was making her curious about the country's current state of affairs.

After sparing a brief glance at its table of contents, she skipped ahead to a more recent entry, one with a map of the region. With widened eyes, Sevia whistled a little after glancing at the current map of Avistan. "I didn't realize Taldor was doing that poorly!" she remarked, having been surprised by how mightily the Empire had fallen since her time.

"Why... it's the symbol of Death, of course. The sign given to Priadan's ancestor, marking him as a chosen favorite of the goddess." Sevia's lack of knowledge seemed to be the main thing fueling his disbelief; a true deity would obviously be far more aware of things like this, wouldn't they? And if somebody didn't know things they should, all it really did was suggest they were some kind of impostor. A powerful and dangerous one, to be sure... but very few people believed incredible claims without proof that truly backed it up. This was especially true for members of any clergy, who tended to have somewhat higher standards on the issue, if only because their own deity would be quite upset with them if they got certain things wrong.

Sevia looked up at the priest and raised an eyebrow, "Were you not paying attention in the tomb? Whoever Priadan's ancestor was, they were no follower of mine - nor did I ever grant any such boon to a mortal. I have been gone from this world for thousands of years, not hundreds. That-" she pointed at his robes "-is not my symbol." She said, withdrawing from her clothes the same medallion that she'd shown Fhanys, and held it up towards Zanaver, showing the mark to him.

"This is my holy symbol." Sevia told him bluntly. Letting him look upon the image of the dragon before putting away the symbol. "Hmm, perhaps Father Otiward might recognize it?...More importantly though, this begs the question - who's symbol is that really? I don't take kindly to being impersonated. Though I have one suspect." Sevia said with ire, drawing the Gods of Golarion book back on top of the table and flipping through the pages - looking for any references to Norgorber, or at least anything mentioning her herald Pharasma.

There were quite a few notes on the activities of Pharasma, perhaps the most well-known deity of death at the moment - and though the book contains a description of Pharasma's own symbols, none of them match what the priest has. As expected, however, there is less information on Norgorber - most people do not know too many things about the God of Assassination, but what is known is enough to ensure that his worship is banned throughout most of the world. Of course, his symbols tend to take the form of masks and similar items, which doesn't particularly match the symbol of the unknown deity.

Zanaver simply turned to the side. "Don't ask questions if you won't believe the answers. I'm willing to answer you, but if you're just going to waste my time, I'd rather you simply kill me and get it over with already."

Does he seem to really mean it? Also on what he's been saying so far. Do you need to roll bluff checks if you tell the truth?

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Sevia rolled her eyes as Zanaver sulked like a child, 'Perhaps I should kill him, he's an evil nuisance and a fool to boot' but then she'd be deprived of a valuable source of information. 'Later I suppose' as she continued through the book she'd been reading. "If I had a copper for every time I'd heard a mortal say that I'd be rich - and you'd be surprised by how many times people are willing to oblige them." She said rather casually as she reached down to grab a text on the death of Aroden, not expecting much but which might tell her more about his prophecy and what occurred when he died.

As she looked at one of the maps of the current world she began to wonder how she might begin to go about finding her artifacts of power. There could be a lead or two she supposed in this library, but Golarion was a very large world...'These books might make mention of organizations dedicated to finding such items...' There was the organization Zanaver had mentioned...making her eyes widen with the realization that she could actually change Golarion - as she was beneath the notice of her fellow Gods and able to act without their interference. "What of Priadan's conspiracy? Who leads it if he could not? And how large is it? Large enough to have a reasonable chance of success?"

Bluff checks will never be used for telling the truth - unless it's being passed off as a lie, anyway. I'll roll them in secret when necessary, but in this case...

In every way that you can tell, Zanaver is telling the truth - it's always possible that he's wrong or misinformed, of course, but he certainly doesn't seem to think so. There's not even a shred of hesitation or confusion on his part, and despite his views on what should happen to the world, he actually seems like a fairly honest person. That doesn't make him a good person, precisely, but...

Zanaver coughed awkwardly. "Ah, he was under the impression that his newfound powers would suffice to gather more followers..." Hey, it wasn't like every nation-destroying conspiracy had millions of followers from its very inception. Phenomenal gifts from the Goddess of Death probably would have gotten him quite a following, too. Their plan didn't actually seem to be a very bad one - had things gone as intended, it might have stood a serious chance of succeeding. Unfortunately, your presence has had a rather detrimental impact on that...

"Typical." Sevia sighed, wondering why she'd expected anything at all. Someone truly noteworthy would've been more of a challenge to kill; the same could be said about Zanaver himself. "And I suppose you're the only one left? What about his family? I believe you mentioned something about them..." By now though she was hardly paying attention to the man, having gotten fairly little useful information from him. Increasingly she found herself amazed at the events she'd missed - Aroden's death was a sure shocker, but the aftermath was no less grand. The return of Tar-Baphon was upsetting, but she was impressed that mere mortals had managed to contain him where two Gods had failed - two Gods who also met similar fates...coincidence? Sevia was unable to know though, perhaps she should travel to Ustalav?

Sevia filed the thought away for later consideration as she stood up and began looking through the library for any books on ancient relics.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

"So, for why do you despise your government so much? Clearly this is no mere intellectual pursuit for you. I'm old enough to recognize when someone has a personal stake in fighting for something." Sevia asked, hoping to get a better grasp on what a mortal thought of things. Perspectives between mortals and immortals were vast, and Sevia prided herself on being able to bring herself down and see through the eyes of the souls she judged.

There aren't too many books on the relics of the gods - such things are quite rare, after all, but there are three volumes that have an emphasis on the subject. Two of them mostly seem like the work of amateurs interested in such things - after all, rare and powerful objects whose might exceeds normal limits are the sort of thing that can excite the minds of everyone from young shepherd boys to the mightiest of kings. The third book is a much more serious treatise on the matter, though it's obviously written from a religious perspective - namely, the status of various items as religious foci, and the cultures that surround them. Many of the items are judged as nothing more than local traditions, but several of the objects listed sound at least passingly familiar, none more so than what the book refers to as the Belt of Grace. Details are frustratingly scarce, but the book does offer several anecdotal tales of warriors who found their lives saved by the narrowest of margins while wearing it.

"Who wouldn't despise it except the parasites that benefit?" the Priest shot back. "It's a failed system, and all it does is prolong everyone's suffering. Between standing in glory beside a goddess and endless misery at the hands of bureaucrats, I'd hope the choice was obvious."

Sevia noted Zanaver's apparent lack of interest in speaking of specifics. She might try to get more out of him later but at the moment he was starting to become frustratingly evasive "If that's all you have to say on the matter then I'll concentrate on these books - I imagine Otiward might have something here on ancient artifacts..." Sevia trailed off, finding her first tome on godly relics. She spent the next few hours pouring over three books she'd found, occasionally asking Zanaver to clarify recent events or looking up general references that postdated her. In particular she made note of the interesting reference to the Belt of Grace, even if it turned out to be mundane magic rather than a divine focus it sounded powerful enough in its own right to pursue.

Before she'd known it the sun had already begun to set as she'd been finishing up her research. 'A possible lead on one of my artifacts, and a...passable understanding of "recent" history in Avistan. Good progress...' Sevia thought with a grin as she left the library, looking around a bit for Father Otiward "Father Otiward?" she called out.

It takes several moments, but the Father eventually walks in, looking almost boisterously cheerful... though he does spare a few moments for a hard glance at Zanaver, apparently none too pleased with the cultist. None of that negativity is directed towards Sevia, however, and he smiles widely. "I hope my little collection has helped you a bit?" he inquired... though the number of books out of their places seems to suggest a very thorough degree of study, and that's something no true priest could easily object to.

"Very much yes, I've been able to brush up on quite a bit since I was away. And I think may have a lead to...an item I might be searching for. I was hoping to make further use of your Library for a few days and was wondering if you have anywhere I might stay..." Sevia said rather hopefully, though in truth she did know a spell that could help her cut down on her research, searching the Library for references would not be as quick though. "Somewhere for him too I suppose, since I'll not let him away until I'm sure he doesn't pose a threat to anyone." She added as an afterthought, gesturing mildly in Zanaver's direction. It might be helpful to put him to work looking for leads for her tomorrow.

Zanaver seemed very reluctant to go along with this, but after what Sevia had done to Priadan, he didn't seem like he wanted to push his luck too far. Father Otiward, meanwhile, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Let me think... we don't have much in the way of sleeping space here, but our Inn does have a few rooms open at the moment. The landlord is a bit of a stickler, but in light of what you've done, I'm sure he'll be willing to let you stay for a bit. You can use the library for as long as you need it... after all, that's what libraries are for, no?" He seemed rather pleased that the books were being read - but then, helping others was his calling in life, so perhaps that wasn't too surprising.

Sevia nodded thoughtfully, a good nights rest would help her recover her power for another day of research. Perhaps she could walk around town and get a feel for the new millennium. "Thank you Father, that sounds promising..." She paused to consider asking about the medallion, but thought it might be best for tomorrow. "...there is something I'd like to talk to you about, but I think it can wait until tomorrow. Goodnight." Sevia said, giving a respectful bow.

"Come you, I'll think on what to do with you over the night." Sevia gestured for Zanaver to follow her as she left the Church in the direction Otiward had pointed her, not having much trouble locating a plainly signed Inn - entering the establishment with her charge in tow.

The Inn is a relatively simple place, with room for eighteen or twenty patrons around the place. Most of one side of the room is taken up by a wide bar, behind which is a collection of large barrels with taps set into them. The village doesn't seem to get enough traffic to support a true inn, so it seems that the primary purpose is of a tavern, with a few rooms rented out as they're actually needed.

Behind the bar is an older man, thin and somewhat grumpy looking. "Ah, so you're the one, eh?" he asked, walking over to one of the taps and filling a mug. He set it down on the bar a moment later and gestures. "You get this one on the house. If you want any more, I expect to see coin beforehand." Perhaps... he was simply nice in his own way?

Sevia looks around the building for a moment, though there's not much to see, before heading straight to the bar counter where the proprietor stood. She was somewhat surprised by the kind gesture of a free drink - small town charm she guessed. Still, a free drink was a free drink, so she took it in hand "Of course, and thank you." She said, giving the man a curt nod, clearly unphased by his gruff demeanor - Dwarfs were basically a whole race of the same, and none more so than Torag.

"I'd like to rent two rooms if you have the space." She said, sampling his ale before paying the man his price. The alcohol was actually quite nice as she continued to drink. "I'll see you in the morning. Don't try to run off, I'm a lot faster than you so you won't get far." Sevia told Zanaver rather bluntly, not needing to spell out what would happen after that, though in truth she didn't expect he would. Instead she left the bar counter after polishing off her drink, slinking back towards her rented room and retiring inside.

Sevia uses her Wild Arcana to cast Alarm on her room - with a mental alert if someone tries to enter: duration 6 hours

Striping off her gear, she plunked down onto the small bed inside. It wasn't particularly cozy, but it was a place to sleep, and it sure beat the tomb. With thoughts of an uncertain future looming over her mind, it was quite some time before she finally found a fitful rest.

As you dream, a thousand images run through your mind. The choices you have made, the relationships you have formed, the souls that have been judged... being a god is nothing at all like being a mortal. You aren't simply a very powerful person with an important job - you are that job, more of an idea than a person, but with nigh-unfathomable power to use while following your calling. But what did any of those things mean if they brought you down so far and prevented you from fulfilling the very core of your existence? Does a god even matter if nobody knows who they are or cares that they exist? These are not happy questions... but they are the reality that you must face.

Despite everything, you are eventually able to rest well enough to refresh your body, recover your energy, and prepare to start a new day. You are eventually awakened by a knock at your door and a voice that's becoming more familiar... "Miss Sevia, are you awake yet?" Fhanys called. "It's almost time for our morning rituals, and I was wondering if you wanted to attend."

Sevia groans, awakening from sleep for the second time in her existence...not nearly as jarring as her first, but she can hardly stand the groggy feeling associated with it. She reaches up with one hand, as if trying to grasp the heaven's with it "My life as a mortal...day two." Sevia muttered to herself, before sliding out of her bed. "Yes, I will accompany you, give me a moment." Sevia called to the door, taking a few minutes to slip her clothes and gear onto her body.

Her dreams had been...disturbing. As a Goddess she had never really drempt before, and she'd not done so at all in her long rest. Life would provide a nice distraction from those thoughts - Sevia had never been one before to shy away from Fate or dealing with the questions of it, but she'd also never been subjected to it in such a manner as well.

Sevia opened the door to her room, nodding to Fhanys. "Hello child, how do you fare this morning?" she asked, looking around for Zanaver or anyone else.

The door to the other room was closed at the moment, and Zanaver didn't seem to be anywhere within the hall. The only one there was Fhanys, who was dressed in what appeared to be thick, ritualistic robes with more layers than were entirely comfortable for this climate. But then, mortals usually went out of their way to sacrifice things for their gods, and at least it wasn't her dignity that was gone... "Thanks to you, I'm fine." Fhanys said, smiling. "Follow me; I think you'll like this." she moved down the stairs and out of the building. In the center of town, only glimpsed yesterday, was a raised and covered stage decorated with various holy markings. They seemed to have been made to hang up and move around as needed, but the center of the back wall is clear of all but one symbol - yours. Most of the villagers have gathered in front of the stage, looking interested but not concerned (though a few are rather bored-looking). This is clearly something they do on a regular basis.

Shutting the door behind her, Sevia swept behind Fhanys as she walked down the stairs, following her out of the building towards the center of town. Inwardly she wondered which particular God the girl gave homage to, obviously not herself - nor any evil God...perhaps her Sister?...Speculating seemed somewhat futile since she knew little about the girl. Looking ahead, she noticed the stage positioned towards the town center and noted each symbol.

Of course, her eyes widened with surprise as she saw her own rather prominently displayed. '...But I thought...' Sevia began, looking at her medallion and the symbol on stage just to check they were the same. "Fhanys...?" Sevia asked in confusion, trailing off as she looked around the crowd they were approaching.

Sense Motive for a hunch on the social situation. Do people look confused, or seem to take special note of my appearance? Also Perception to listen to any whispered conversations of note.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22 vs DC 20
Take a 10 on Perception: 10+7=17 vs DC 15 (plus/minus modifiers)

Obviously she stood out like a sore thumb; aside from her armor and the swords strapped to her waist, her ashen grey skin clearly marked her as non human.

"Do you like it?" she asked, smiling at you. "I had some of the villagers help me make it yesterday. I hope we got it right..." She hadn't spent all that time memorizing its appearance for nothing, and seemed quite happy as she continued on her way towards the stage. Meanwhile, most of the crowd seems fairly positive - while you do stick out rather noticeably, it seems like everyone in town heard about what you did... and they seem honestly welcoming now. Most of the conversations are simple ones, along the lines of 'There she is!', though it's not entirely clear whether they're referring to you or Fhanys. One of the villagers waves at you, indicating a clear spot on a bench at the front - an invitation, it seems, as Fhanys heads for the stage.

"Yes, and it looks well made..." Sevia trialed off with a small smile. Clearly Fhanys seemed cheerful about its construction, and the crowd seemed genuinely positive. Mostly she justed wanted to ask why but Fhanys seemed to be enjoying being cryptic about the whole affair as she walked forward to the stage. Sevia was about to follow the girl until another villager waved her towards one of the front row seats. Not really knowing what she should do - Sevia decided to simply follow directions and see where things went, taking the proffered seat and exchanging a pleasant 'Good Morning' with the villager who'd waved her down.

An expectant air seemed to settle over the villagers as Fhanys took the stage, raising a ritual bell and ringing it sharply. She set it down a moment later and spread her hands wide, then clapped them together - and all of the villagers followed suit as Fhanys began to speak.

"We have given thanks to many of the gods for the blessings they have given our lives." she began. "Erastil, our lord of family and field, Iomedae, lady of justice, and Sarenrae, the lady of healing. However... there are many gods who act in our lives, and should we not thank them as well?" She folded her fingers until she was clasping her hands together, smiling towards the members of the crowd. "Today, I'd like to give thanks to a different goddess - one who isn't as frightening as we often think. As I'm sure you're all aware, yesterday was the most frightening day of my life... and I saw Death visit a man who wished ill upon our land. It's true that we often fear death... we don't want to part from our families and friends, and we're uncertain about what the future will be like. We all want to go to a celestial paradise... we just don't want to go there right now. However, death also stops our pain and suffering, welcoming us into her embrace when it's time for us to leave this world. Indeed, she is the only goddess who will be involved in everyone's life, no matter what they do, where they live, or how things go for them. Let us pray, everyone... and thank Death for her care." Fhanys bowed her head low, and-

Well over a hundred prayers, all at once, supporting the core of your existence.

No mortal could possibly hope to listen to so many prayers all at once, but you are no mere mortal. Each prayer is clear and distinct, not to mention representative of the one making it. Some are rather more hesitant than others, but all of them are praying... and while they may not quite qualify as followers, since most of them owe allegiance to another deity, they seem honest and well-meaning. Besides, who ever said that mortals couldn't pray to more than one deity?

And simple as the prayers may be... for a god, belief is power.

Gain 1 temporary Mythic Power. It will last until expended.

A short time later, Fhanys raises her head and looks at you... then smiles once more. The villagers slowly begin to disperse, apparently satisfied with the events onstage, and it doesn't take long at all for people to move back into their daily routines.

Would I need to use it before using my permanent reservoir of mythic power?

As she listened to the girl speak, Sevia couldn't help but feel a small smile spread across her face. Perhaps it might've seemed like a small gesture, but Sevia appreciated it greatly, feeling some of her self confidence truly return. Although she would not admit it, Sevia had considered at one point that no mortal would actually believe in her again, and that had frightened her. She watched as Fhanys completed her invocation and then heard the plethora of prayers around her - sifting through each one as if a flower in a garden, none escaping her attention.

And she felt...empowered by it. As if a deep current had lifted her body just ever so slightly. And while this meager gathering couldn't hold a candle to the height of her worship during her shadow crusade...it somehow felt warmer and more worthwhile as she returned Fhanys' smile.

While the townsfolk began to disperse, Sevia made her way onto the stage to Fhanys. "Thank you for that Fhanys. That was very kind...no, more than that. You placed some of your faith in me, and I'm grateful." Sevia reaches out and takes one of Fhanys' hands in hers, giving it a small squeeze. "For the divine, belief is power. In fact, it's perhaps possible that without the faith of mortals, we would wither and die." It was an idea which all the Gods feared and denied, because for all their knowledge - even they did not know the answer, except for perhaps Groetus.

Yes. Unless specifically noted otherwise, temporary bonuses to any kind of pool (HP, Mythic Power, etc.) are expended before getting into your permanent reserves.

"It's pretty hard to not believe in someone who saved your life." she said, reaching up to clasp your hand in both of hers. "I don't think many people ever want to die, really... but if I'll see you when I do, I don't think I'll be very afraid when my time comes. Even if nobody else does, I think I'll always believe in you." As she speaks, you can feel something resonating inside of you - and it's something you haven't felt in a very long time. More than simple words of faith, she truly has given you a degree of veneration reserved for deities... and it probably would have been incredibly blasphemous for her to feel that way if you weren't divine.

Fhanys has become a Cleric of Sevia, the Raven Queen. Unfortunately, you are not yet strong enough to grant spells to followers... but she doesn't seem to mind.

"Oh, but you were still studying in Father Otiward's library, right? I, um, should probably let you get back to that..." she pulls her hands back, looking a little bit embarrassed by her earlier words.

So she's a lvl 1 Cleric with no spellcasting? How about channeling/domains?

Looking down at Fhanys' hands grasping her own, Sevia truly felt touched at that moment. In fact, she could actually feel the girl's belief in her - her first follower in over three thousand years. It actually made her a tinge embarrassed to have won the girl over with so little of her power to invoke. It was all rather...humbling, and it gave her some more respect for the other ascended gods that she'd been so dismissive of before. "Thank you, hopefully I will be there once I've recovered my power." Sevia said with a grin, chuckiling a little as Fhanys pulled away in embarrassment. It WAS rather cute.

"Well, I could always use a little helper for sifting through his library if you've got the time, it is rather expansive." Sevia suggested as she mellowed out, though, her face slowly lost its cheery demeanor as she glanced back towards the inn. "Though, first I'll check on Zanaver and make sure he hasn't tried to flee...I've given some thought as to what to do with him, but well...given that it was YOU he wronged - I feel that you deserve to decide what's to be done with him." Sevia told the girl.

Channeling is simply Positive or Negative energy, and is unaffected. Domains are affected by your lack of powers.

"I have spent a few hours in there myself. It shouldn't be too hard to find what you're looking for." the girl said, nodding. She seemed more than willing to help there, though as the conversation turned to Priadan's companion... "I think it would be better to leave him alive for now. If you can get your power back quickly enough, maybe you can beat him to wherever souls are judged and greet him, too. Oh, but I guess he might try other bad things in the meantime..." she sounded slightly disappointed about that, but she was basically a nice person at heart. Given the choice between a poetic sort of vengeance and trying to protect other people from harm, she was the sort who'd always pick the latter... with a bit of regret. She wasn't such a saint that she had no selfish feelings at all.

With the crowd dispersed, the trip back to the Inn is an easy one - and the door to Zanaver's room is locked, just as it's been since the night before.

The Fetchling grinned imagining that scene "To see the look on his face would be priceless, though Priadan's would be worth more...You are right though, the man is evil enough to sacrifice the life of an innocent for power." Sevia said, her face turning to a frown as she contemplated Fhanys close brush with death. It felt despicable to think that someone would want to snuff out such an altruistic person for such a reason. She was actually rather pleased to have such a person as a cleric of her faith. "Are there no authorities to hand him over to? If not, I'll bring justice onto him myself." Sevia told Fhanys in a hushed voice they entered the building.

Upon reaching the door, Sevia noted it was still locked. Carefully, she leaned close to the door and pressed her ear against the wall, listening inside for any sign of activity.

Use perception to hear inside for walking or other sounds of wakefulness. DC 10 + 5 for closed door modifier. Or vs opposed sealth check. DC = 15 to hear us approach the door 25 if Zanaver is asleep

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

If Sevia hears Zanaver she knocks on the door, if not, she'll pick the lock

Those are some fairly godly skill totals for picking a simple Inn's lock. XD

A foul stench billows out of the room as you open the door. Zanaver's body is lying on the bed, a look of sheer horror on its face. However, even stranger than that is the mark on his face - a print outlining a hand can be seen, and within it, all of the young priest's skin looks drastically older and more withered. More gruesomely, however, his heart seems to have been removed from his chest... and a silver holy icon, with a skull surrounded by a spiraled disc clearly visible, has been placed inside. Behind you, you can hear Fhanys darting downstairs and away from the sight... but your gaze does eventually land on what looks like a small note that's been stuffed into the dead priest's hand.

Lol I didn't expect that would happen.

"Uhg" Sevia scrunched her nose, instantly recognizing the smell of decayed flesh and death. Sure enough the sight of Zanaver's corpse greeted her. While gruesome, the scene was very interesting, from the mysterious hand print to the replaced heart.

A second later she heard Fhanys' retreating footsteps and shook her head. "Get Father Otiward!" she shouted downstairs, hoping Fhanys at least heard her before she got too far. Looking back at the body Sevia grimaced, though it seemed the man hadn't known much she'd had the feeling there might have been a few things worth knowing she'd not asked of - though on the other hand she was glad she didn't have to deal with his fate. After a quick incantation she looked across the room for any magical auras, especially on the note in Zanaver's hand.

Sevia casts detect magic on the room - spellcraft to identify any magic items

Spellcraft: 10 + 7 = 17

Sevia doesn't pick up any dangerous magic items, or the paper if she identifies it as Explosive Runes or any kind of symbol magic

Walking forward towards his body, Sevia took a moment to search his robes for any other items before carefully removing the note from his hand and reading it in full. Retrieving the holy symbol last with a casting of Mage Hand to pick the item out of Zanaver's body, using a Drench spell to wash the item and then walk downstairs.

Nothing within the room seems to be especially magical - except for the faint residual energy on the holy icon, of course, but that's well within the expected results for something often used to channel divine magic. However, while none of the items are explicitly enchanted, a part of the air is giving off a dim aura, somewhat larger than a person.

The note itself is written in eerily flawless penmanship, containing a short but simple message.

Death comes for all who have served their purpose. I'm sure we'll meet soon enough, Keeper of Souls. Until then, walk a path without regrets.

Oh, and cute bird. I think it's time I returned him to you.

The note isn't signed with a name, but the same symbol as the holy icon seems to have been burned into the page somehow.

There's a flapping sound from the darkest corner of the room a moment later, and an owl flies out of it before landing on your shoulder and tilting its head, watching as the holy symbol was retrieved and cleaned. However, as you head downstairs, the man who owns the place is looking at you with one eyebrow raised very high. After a moment of consideration, he looks towards the few other people in here this early (most of them for breakfast, apparently), then...

"Out." The room was cleared with remarkable haste, and he moves his gaze back towards you. "I don't want to know." he said flatly, walking into the back room as Fhanys finally returned with Father Otiward just behind her.

You have recovered your Arcane Familiar!

I changed the familiar to a hawk when I swapped out fighter for a template. Would've liked to pick a Raven, but they make absolutely terribad familiars

Sevia read the note with stark intensity, as if her eyes might bore a hole into the paper. Someone was toying with her, and she did not like it. This mysterious stranger was not only keeping tabs on her, but knew exactly who she was. That was disconcerting - her first guess was some divine being, perhaps a lesser god even, but that was just a shot in the dark.

She was more distracted though a moment later by the bird which fluttered onto her shoulder, a bird which she recognized. "Hello Epyon" she cooed with a smile, giving him a little pet. "I don't suppose you saw who wrote this note?" she asked while holding up the paper in question, talking to the bird in a way that only he seemed to understand. Not that she was really expecting him to know. Carefully folding the paper, Sevia tucked it away and left the foul smelling room behind.

After arriving downstairs, she nodded to the barkeep, happy to have less people to deal with and glad for the arrival of Otiward. "Ah, good morning Father. I'm sorry to trouble you but it appears Zanaver's saved me the trouble of having to deal with him by getting himself killed." Sevia told the man rather bluntly, gesturing upstairs. "Unfortunately it appears his death was the responsibility of someone rather powerful. A someone who is either far more knowledgeable of the past then they ought to be or who is very long lived indeed to have remembered my title from the time before my fall. I'm not sure if you'll be able to tell me anything by looking at his...body...but I'm hoping you might possibly recognize this symbol." Sevia said as she handed him the unknown holy symbol, cleaned of its gore. "I found that...carved into his chest where his heart ought to be..." she said.

You might want to change the notes in your alias' SQ and Special Abilities sections - it still says Owl there.

Sadly, Epyon didn't seem to have any information - at least, not any that it could convey in a way that would make any sense at all. Meanwhile, Fhanys winced at the explanation of the gruesome sight, but she seemed like she'd be fine as long as she wasn't actually looking at it.

The Priest flipped the symbol around a few times, examining it in minute detail. "It's a holy symbol, all right." he eventually pronounced. "I don't recognize the symbol, though. This part's clear, of course." he tapped the skull with one finger. "No deities except those watching over elements like death or assassination ever use a skull on their symbols - it helps them avoid confusion. But this spiral..." he rotated the icon a bit. "Pharasma uses a true spiral in the form of a comet, not a disc like this one. It's almost like..." his expression abruptly changed. "Could it represent the spiral of a galaxy?" he asked, passing the symbol back. Though, he didn't have any idea how much Sevia might know about astronomy...

Whoops!...You saw noth'in!

Sevia gave a sympathetic pat on the back to her mortified friend. That was one of the more gruesome deaths she'd seen to occur, though - as an ageless God, we had seen such worse that the poor thing would be retching if she'd seen them. Evidently Otiward hadn't known the answer to her question, and she took the symbol back with some disappointment.

"I suppose? I'm not sure why a skull would be overlaid onto a field of stars...Zanaver called it the holy symbol of the God of Death, but I also know that to be erroneous." Sevia deliberately left out the part about how she knew that. Somehow she guessed a priest would not take kindly to supposed mortals claiming divinity. "I believed it to be the mark of an imposter; though - it appears there is some substance to the individual..." Sevia reasoned, putting the symbol away. "Regardless, I thought you might be able to look at the body and see if you can tell me how he died - it seems as though he might have been killed by a very advanced aging magic, but I'm not sure." Sevia gestured upstairs. "A Speak With Dead spell would also be helpful if you could cast it..."

"Not until tomorrow. The gods have seen fit to grant me divine magic, but that's not a spell I usually ask for." the priest rumbled. Like most people, he usually prayed for (and received) the magic most likely to be relevant each day, and many years of doing this had helped him settle into a routine each morning. However, he's more than willing to head into the room, though Fhanys was left below.

Father Otiward grimaces when he sees the body, but approaches it and begins a thorough examination of the body. "Obvious necromancy of some kind, but I'm not familiar with any spell that ages only the skin it touches and not the surrounding area." he mused, going over the face before checking the chest cavity. "Chest has filled in a bit, but these are unnaturally smooth for a cut. Definitely a magical effect of some kind, though I can think of several ways it would have happened. It looks to me like it was the effect on his face that killed him; he would have been thrashing around too much for the heart to be pulled out so cleanly otherwise. If I had to guess, it was a fairly quick death." He muttered a few words under his breath as he crossed to a bin, and a small downpour of water flowed over his hands as he cleaned them.

A cleric who doesn't leave spell slots open? tisk tisk. By the way did I not find anything else on Zanaver when I searched him?

Sevia nodded, aware of the rarity for need of the spell, though she was glad he seemed capable of it - given that it was generally more powerful than most clergy were capable of. "Memorize it tomorrow if you would." she said as the two of them proceeded up to the room, Sevia leaving her familiar with Fhanys to keep her company.

Having had a minute to air out, the stench of the room wasn't quite as overpowering as when she first walked in. Sevia watched as Otiward surveyed the body, unfazed by its gruesome nature. Otiward didn't seem to know anything more telling than Sevia herself could have guessed, but she appreciated the try. "Hrm, well - perhaps we might learn something when we speak to his soul. It does look like he at least got a look at his killer judging by the look on his face." Sevia said as she began to wrap his body within the blanket on the bed he'd been using, no need to horrify anyone else. She'd pay the inkeep a few copper for the value of the cloth later. "What do you want to do with the body? Obviously we can't leave it here."

No, there wasn't anything of particular interest or use.

"We have a place in the church to lay the bodies of the deceased while others mourn." Father Otiward said. "It doesn't see much use, of course, so there's no problem keeping the body there as long as we need." he moved forward to pick the body up entirely. It was a bit of a heft even for him, but after taking a moment to be sure of his footing, he nodded and moved towards the door. Then... "Do you have reason to believe anyone else in the village is in danger?" he asked, quiet and serious. They were all very grateful for your help with Fhanys, but if members of the village were at risk...

Sevia paused to think about his question a moment. With Priadan and Zanaver dead, the only person left in town of interest to this being was herself. Whoever it was, they were definitely going to continue keeping tabs on her, but killing any of the townsfolk didn't seem like it would benefit them. 'But what about Fhanys?...and Norben?' that was an interesting question, given their involvement in the affair. "I can't be certain. The note that was addressed to me mentioned that 'Death comes to those who serve their purpose'...Zanaver mentioned Priadan, their leader, had received visions of my tomb...it could be this being was the one who directed them there...if so this would simply be them tying up loose ends...so I don't really see what killing anyone from this village would accomplish...but that hinges on a lot of assumptions" Sevia said, tapping her chin a bit before her eyes widened.

"Oh bother, if Zanaver's dead then the sell swords they hired that I let go are definitely dead somewhere out there in the woods." Sevia sighed, before stepping forward and putting a hand on Otiward's shoulder. "Look...I can't really say for sure, though I don't really think so. But...if my presence is putting anyone in danger, you have my word I'll leave." she told Otiward with a straight face.

For just a few moments, Father Otiward looks at you... then nods slightly. "The gods watch over all of us, and we must trust in their judgment." he mused, bringing the body the rest of the way to the church. "By the way, I pulled out a few more texts you might find interesting before... this happened. I hope you'll find them enlightening." He nodded towards the rest of the church as he bustled around the resting room. Zanaver was almost certainly evil, and possibly insane... but his body, at least, seemed like it would be treated with the respect due to the dead.

I assume my familiar just sticks around with Fhanys and tries to cheer her up

Glad that Otiward seemed to be rather understanding about the situation, Sevia followed him down the stairs. She noted that Fhanys had left...evidently with her familiar, perhaps his presence might make her feel better. She left a couple copper on the bar counter - probably more than the blanket was worth, but enough she thought to compensate him for his troubles. "Thank you Father, I'll be in the Library if anyone needs me." She gave a curt nod before she was off. It was good to see that the clergy of these days still treated the dead with respect - regardless of their alignment. Entering the Library, she looked around for the books Otiward mentioned, an obvious stack left near the books she'd previously been looking at. Sitting down, she reached out for the one on top, glancing at the title - and that of the others, before cracking it open to give it a skim.

As a resident of the forested areas, this was hardly the first time Fhanys had worked with creatures... but an arcane familiar was something else entirely, and she actually smiled a bit as she gently groomed the bird with a small brush.

Today's reading involves similar fare to yesterday's, with a few other things sticking out. One record of the church, dated about ten years back, mentions an ongoing effort to stamp out a number of vicious death cults focused on Pharasma. While minor crusades into the area were generally effective, the cults kept popping back up a few years later, and the inability to stop this from happening seemed to be frustrating the writer.

Another tome is far more recent, concerning reports of consistent darkness over a patch of land some ways to the west. It hasn't seemed to spread trouble very wide, and it's so far out of the way that the government seems to ignore it, but the locals have recognized it as a problem... though your instincts warn you that this would probably be a difficult issue to deal with until you've regained more of your powers.

You're able to skim through both of these books (and quite a few others, mostly about history and, especially, the impact of the gods on it) before lunchtime rolls around.

Sevia set aside the two noteworthy books dealing with Pharasma cults and perpetual darkness for further reading. Tracking down those cults could bring her a step closer to uncovering her mystery stalker, especially since they sounded eerily familiar to Priadan's dogma. The perpetual darkness was more troubling though, as in her opinion that could actually represent the Shadow Plane seeping into the material plane - not so far fetched considering the Worldwound was a manifestation of the Abyssal plane doing the same.

Taking a nearby quill to a piece of parchment, she began to write some notes. References for Belt of Grace. Heretical Pharasma Cults. Unkown Death Symbol connected? Priadan's Conspiracy? - Leads? Ustalav? - Whispering Tyrant: How did he survive?

'I feel like I'm starting to find more questions than answers here...
Sevia thought wryly.

Before grabbing lunch, Sevia decides to take a few minutes to tote off the couple greatswords she left in Otiward's library to the town's metal smith to see about pawning them off - essentially accepting any amount for them. She'll try to negotiate selling the Master Work Buckler, but only if she can get its market value. After conducting her business, Sevia will return to the church and seek out Father Otiward.

Fortunately, negotiations are fairly easy when people like you - at least for the swords, which the man rather looks like he intends to melt down and hammer into useful things like nails. Good-quality metal only comes into the village every so often, after all. However, he does defer on purchasing the buckler - it seems to be rather higher more expensive than he wants to pay for, though he does suggest trying to sell it in a larger settlement, and directly to someone who wants it.

100 GP from the Swords, sold for half value at 25 GP each.

"I do hope you found something useful in my books?" Father Otiward asks, smiling as you approach. It seems like an honest question instead of a polite formality - he really does seem interested in what you might have found.

"I did indeed, thank you for setting them out for me. This is just a hunch, but I feel like that symbol that was...left with Zanaver, might be connected to those Pharasma cults - hopefully we can confirm that tomorrow." Sevia said, fingering said symbol in her pocket. "Those reports of permanent darkness also concern me. Unless there's a very powerful wizard behind them, the only other thing that I would think might cause such a thing would be if the Shadow Plane were leaking onto the Material plane." Sevia explained, further elaborating on her findings, which she mentioned that she'd have to read more studiously. She also thanked him for finding the books for her, and made it clear she was eager for anything else he seemed to think relevant. On that note, she'd have to find some more detailed maps of the area.

"By the way Father, I was wondering if you knew anything about that tomb? When Norben mentioned it the other day you seemed like you knew what he was talking about." Sevia asked.

"It's been there for as long as any of us can remember." the Priest observed, looking towards the distant door. "In fact, we think it was put here even before our village was settled... and we've been here a long time. Who'd go through all the trouble of building something like that so far from where anyone lived...?" Admittedly, there were all kinds of dungeons and ruins in the world, but most of those places had an actual population and reason for existing. The priest shook his head a bit.

"We scouted the place very thoroughly once we became aware of it, but since there weren't any undead within, we just decided to leave it alone. Though I'm starting to think that it may not have been a tomb, precisely... but more of a time capsule." They'd mostly just assumed it was a tomb from the overall appearance. Big open chamber, stone object for holding a person in, etc. A mistake anyone could make... assuming it was a mistake, of course.

Sevia nodded with a knowing smile, seeing that Otiward wasn't quite as knowledgeable about it as she'd expected. What WAS interesting as that others had been inside the tomb and she hadn't been awakened by their presence. Which implied Priadan had either possessed something which awakened her, or had some knowledge that allowed him to do so. "I would say you're definitely on the right track. But I hadn't realized others had been inside before Priadan - which begs the question, how did he manage to unlock the place's secret? I think our mysterious stranger is more involved than we thought." Sevia said rather cryptically, obviously sounding as though she knew more than she was letting on in that regard. It might be that Fhanys or Norben might be able to give her a clue about what Priadan might have done that those before him hadn't.

She wondered what he might make of it if he saw her resting place now. Of course, now that Zanaver was dead, she was interested in going back up there to track down those mercenaries she'd dismissed yesterday - under the impression she'd find them dead somewhere. "I assume you probably don't know who's holy symbol this is either?" she asked, showing him her Holy Symbol - which he probably had seen on the town's stage.

"Yours, isn't it?" he asked, grinning slightly. "Fhanys was quite insistent about getting it right when she had them make the big one." On this matter, at least, he didn't seem to be entirely on the same page as her - being older and probably wiser, he did have higher standards when it came to his faith... and accepting anyone's claims of godhood was a tall order without some kind of incontrovertible proof.

"As for the tomb..." he rubbed his chin. "From what Fhanys said, they were some kind of Death cult? It's not impossible that they did have something unusual... perhaps something that could bring people back from the underworld, even."

Sevia nodded and let the issue drop, she wasn't about to press into a religious debate with Otiward - those kinds of arguments tended not to go well. "Priadan himself was little more than a stage magician though...and he didn't possess any strong magical items with him that I could tell..." Sevia trailed off, though she supposed he could've used a scroll of some kind? - It might be worth asking Fhanys or Norben. Regardless, Otiward didn't seem to know anything more about the tomb, though the knowledge that it had been visited before intrigued her.

Bidding the man farewell, Sevia decided to head back to the library to quickly find a map of the area, before going to get some food after that - she hadn't actually eaten anything that morning. Afterwards seeking out Fhanys to ask her to describe in the best detail she could manage everything she could remember - from being taken to when Sevia had finally woken up.

Assuming nothing else comes up - Sevia heads back up to the tomb and tries to find the sellswords' tracks taking a 10 on Survival and spend the rest of the day trying to track them down