Zarta Dralneen urgently requests your assistance in the archives beneath Skyreach in Absalom. The vaults hum with nervous tension as researchers and guards hastily scribe warding circles and erect defensive constructs around a scorched circle of melted stone and smashed shelves.
Nearby, a sphinx carefully directs the containment of several sparking crystals fallen from a smashed Osirion urn. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin keeps his eyes firmly focused on the scorched circle, while engaged in heated conversation with Zarta Dralneen. A handful of singed hairs mar her otherwise carefully composed appearance.
Valsin continues, “…a needless risk of agents and resources. Your countermeasures worked. Just accept that success and let’s be rid of the thing.”
Zarta gives an acknowledging smile to the new arrivals and lightly places a hand to direct Valsin’s attention. “We aren’t sure of another way to safely close the portal permanently. And here we have some of the Society’s best, eager to assist.” Valsin frowns, but Zarta quickly stymies further argument. “This is a risk but also an opportunity. Think of what censored history we might uncover from a pre-war Thrune. And if we fail, you’ll still have the pleasure of smashing the talisman. I have the experience and… this is something I need to do, Ambrus.”
Valsin gives an exasperated sigh, “If you don’t return and leave me to clean up this mess, trust that I will find you and give you a dressing down to remember.”
As Valsin stalks off, Zarta smirks as though about to make a cheeky response. She quickly refocuses, producing a dark iron talisman set with a ruby and inscribed with Infernal script. “This, my friends, is a melancholic talisman, a device of diabolic manufacture that opens a portal to a specific point in Hell. It activated spontaneously yesterday, allowing a flight of imps access to Skyreach.” Zarta continues with pride. “The Dark Archive has prepared for such planar incursions after last year’s intrusions, and we quickly destroyed or captured the devils. With information gleaned from the imps, I carefully reopened the portal and ventured through. I found myself in the city of Dis in the Nine Hells. I learned through my contacts there of the talisman’s connection to Gellius Thrune, a scion of Cheliax’s ruling family from just after the Everwar about 300 years ago. Gellius sold his soul to a devil named Leventi. Another devil, the osyluth Vetrivides, noticed my investigation, as they too are investigating this Leventi for acting against the interests of Hell. If we can find proof of Leventi’s wrongdoing, Vetrivides will award us the soul of Gellius Thrune, who we can then question on how to permanently close the hellmouth. Vetrivides provided me with writs to act as their agent for the next 48 hours.” She smiles impishly and concludes, “As you’ve no doubt heard your enemies shout, it’s time to go to Hell.”
Zarta produces a bone scroll tube with two writs scribed in Infernal, detailing the Pathfinders’ right to legally move about the city of Dis as Vetrivides’ agents for 48 hours after arrival, providing one copy to your group. She also explains the risks of drawing Dispater’s Attention, which can be caused most specifically by attempting bribery or otherwise skirting the law. She advises you to act as lawfully as possible while within Hell.
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“I will find you and give you a dressing down to remember.”
Eadie scratches her head. “Paracountess, how will a dressing gown help you remember?”
“This writ does indeed seem to be legitimate.”
“Lemme see that, Fen.”
Eadie snatches the contract out of her friend’s hands. “I might pick up something you missed.”
She looks up cross-eyed from the document, bamboozled by the Infernal writing. "Is that blood? Ewww. You can have it back."
“What kinda devil is Leventi? Do you really believe it’s acting against the interests of Hell? Sounds like the kinda line a rival would use to rope in gullible outsiders to do its dirty work.”
The warrior frowns. “I also have some questions about … the terrain.”
“Do we need any custom protection against the heat? Will our magic items work normally in Dis?”
“What does ‘not skirt the law’ mean? I assume we shouldn’t start any trouble but are free to defend ourselves?”
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A tall, gangly half elf in ill fitting platemail comes stumbling into the archive, Sorry I'm late, slept in, had a bit too much to drink last night if such a thing is possible. He looks around and takes a sip from a hip flask. So, what is all so important that a man has to be woken in the middle of the day?
Did you just say we are going to Hell? Who the Hell would want to do something like that?
As he ponders his own question he taps himself wiith a wand and starts pulling tattered dog eared chronicles from his pack. I am sure I saw some mention of the infernal realms in one of these, pretty sure cousin Antonius has been to Hell or he might have been talking about Isger, or possibly somewhere called Earth. Never could get a straight answer out of him, the man is as crooked as they come
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"'Least these blighted devils keep their word," Rudzik adds with a scowl. "Don't mean you can trust 'em, but at least they won't attack on sight without some reason, unlike those demons Eadie and me drove back into the Worldwound." His scowl deepens. "'Course, that don't stop 'em from finding any excuse to do what they want with ya'."
20+: Legions of devils patrol the streets of Dis, enforcing Hell’s laws, and the city is home to millions of damned souls and other fiends. Its markets teem with merchants and exotic wares from across the multiverse, though simple food and drink is hard to locate.
25+: Dispater rules the city, with other high-ranking fiends carrying out his will. The archfiend’s wife is Erecura, a demigoddess who rules by his side and exerts a more benign influence. The Erinyes Queen, Eiseth, also claims a portion of the second layer from her aerie, Widow’s Cry.
30+: The Oppidian Maze occupies most of Dis, its labyrinthine streets ever-shifting according to Dispater’s will. There is an ordered logic to the Maze’s design, known to few.
Zarta checks a few items. "You'll have a short while in case you need supplies, but the sooner the better. Vetrivides is like any other devil, you can trust the contract. Heat should not be problematic and magic items not linked to good or chaos should be fine. Any other questions, pets?"
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"'Least these blighted devils keep their word," Rudzik adds with a scowl. "Don't mean you can trust 'em, but at least they won't attack on sight without some reason, unlike those demons Eadie and me drove back into the Worldwound." His scowl deepens. "'Course, that don't stop 'em from finding any excuse to do what they want with ya'."
"I have, of course, consorted with devils before," Sniffs a beautiful, if unusually spindly and alarmingly pale, Gnomish woman wearing ornate Qadiran mage's garb, swooping in atop a nightmarish serpentine monster with iridescent black-and-white stripes, that drifts lazily through thin air. "Hell's Law is consistent within itself, but grounded in a Lie beyond your imaginations."
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"The stark sincerity of the Abyss, by contrast, has a civilization to it all its own," Adds the terrible serpent-being.
Before he(?) can fully close his maw, another, smaller second head shoots out.
"DEVIL BRAINS TASTE LIKE STALE GAMEFOWL MARINATED IN HYSSOP OIL ILL-REAPED! YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" It helpfully adds in a shrill voice before the larger head sucks it back up.
Strongly Law-Aligned: Creatures who are not lawful aligned take a –2 penalty on all Intelligence-, Wisdom-, and Charisma-based checks. This penalty stacks with the penalty for not being evil.
Enhanced Magic: A spell or spell-like ability with the lawful or evil descriptor is treated as if its caster level were 2 higher.
Impeded Magic: To cast a spell or spell-like ability with the chaotic or good descriptor, a caster must attempt a concentration check (DC 20 + the level of the spell). If the check fails, the spell does not function but is still lost as a prepared spell or spell slot. If the check succeeds, the spell functions normally.
Zarta grins. "You may have the opportunity to bargain for that answer down below. I'm not willing to part with the secrets of the universe without recompense."
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“Cheers for the drink, Ando! May you always find your lager chilled.”
'Wolf-whisperer' Navhelan gives her friend Sir Wilk a scratch behind the ears
“I'm not willing to part with the secrets of the universe without recompense.”
Eadie twists her lips into a sour ‘cat’s-bum’. “Well in return, I would have bought you a vodka and yellow-ade.”
Once everyone is ready, Zarta directs the melancholic talisman at the middle of the room and speaks the command word. The talisman’s jagged engravings twist and spin as if alive, and a wide, fleshy maw of teeth and fire tears itself open within the room’s warded circle. Thin films that cover the interior of the portal snap open like layered eyelids, slowly swelling outward as if under some great pressure. As the last membrane retracts, a blast of heated air billows into the room. Through the portal, you can see the jagged towers and iron architecture of Dis. Zarta steps into the circle and through the vertical portal with shoulders set, motioning for you to follow.
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Yeah, this is a bad idea. Did anyone consult with the highly trained agent before committing a team to this horrible plan? Of course not. Why ask Fen for any input? Let's just TOSS HIM INTO HELL with a bunch of others to babysit Zarta.
Before she opens the portal, Fendel makes a few last moment preparations. He casts a spell off of a wand, then enacts the magic from a scroll.
The detective takes a moment to double-check his gear...and make certain nothing is lurking just beyond the portal. He walks a few feet forward, simultaneously striding across worlds. The heat slaps him the face, but the veteran operative realizes it posses no immediate threat. However, he is keenly aware that just about everything else they encounter will be. He scans the vicinity for dangers.
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Ando regards the swirling mass of smoke and foulness and gives a little sigh. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained he says with a shrug. He pulls out and activates several wands and a scroll.
Arriving on the other side he almost retches with the stench of evil. Well, this is unpleasant he mutters.
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“Ando, can you please cast life bubble on me from my scroll?”
Eadie has learnt from experience that following Fendel’s lead is usually wise. She places her helm of dusky steel over her chain hood and locks it in place on her armor’s gorget.
Although in no doubt the malevolent realm she is about to enter could consume her up without even noticing, the black knight is surprisingly calm and confident as she follows the others.
I must be mad. Abadar, I pray I am not already lost.
The odor of seared blood permeates the choking, hot, smoky air. A low scream resonates from countless writhing bodies impaled on spikes atop the surrounding structures. Fiendish sigils adorn banners hanging from palace walls that stretch across city blocks, while a river of fire wends its way through canals below the nearby courtyard. Flights of imps patrol the bloody skies, while the winged figures of erinyes perch atop buildings, always watching.
At the center of it all, a tower of impossible height stretches endlessly upward, its walls covered with gargoyles. Zarta checks a series of rods placed around the portal. “These should conceal the portal’s presence and keep anyone from accidentally wandering through,” she explains before looking around at the city and grimacing. “Ah Hell…being away for five years wasn’t long enough.” She gathers herself and continues.
“We have two writs and, with only two days to search for clues across a very large city, I suggest we pursue separate leads. I have a good supply of sending scrolls, so we can reconnect.” She gestures along the canal. “In this direction lies the Fallen Fastness, a library of mortal sin. Vetrivides waits there and may have more information.” She gestures in the other direction, toward the river of fire. “Following the Andrimal this way leads to the floating Market of Breaths. Information and treasure flow there, and my contacts say Leventi’s associate Arenthea frequents the market. Leventi’s business dealings may offer some…” She smirks, “…damning evidence.”
After you have time to laugh at her joke, she continues, letting you know she intends to set off alone but advises against your splitting up. There are only the two writs, and with her having one and your group having the other it would be dangerous to split further. She provides six scrolls of sending so that you may communicate across a distance. "I will pursue whichever lead you do not. So which will it be, the Fastness or the Market?"
"Very well, have fun at the markets. Oh, and you might want to dismiss your pet there unless it's absolutely necessary. Creatures like that aren't welcome here." And with that, Zarta walks a brief way before she simply disappears from sight. Very mysterious.
The group begins to travel towards the market of Breaths, which they can see in the distance as a tower floating 300 feet above the ground. First it must be navigated to, either through magical or mundane means. If it is the latter, the group must make a knowledge (planes) check. You may also seek some form of help should you so choose.
The devil tells you something about a bone cage and a roc somewhere below the tower.
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If this is what is smells and tastes like through the life bubble I hope we’re gone before it expires.
Eadie is very quiet as she keeps in step with the group. Her subconscious pricks her wakened mind constantly – reminding her of the need to stay alert for the others.
She is otherwise distracted by the unnatural heat through the ground and in the air, the tortured screams of the old and very young in despairing voices of a thousand different species. Vile acts and substances – some familiar, some not – in every direction she turns, displayed in a casual openness that threatens her mind and soul.
Though perhaps she is most frightened of the likelihood of getting used to ... THIS, the longer she stays.
Have I contributed to it in any way?
Otherwise the young intruder speaks to no one. Never directing her gaze at any particular entity, trusting Fendel and the others to do their jobs.
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"Very well, have fun at the markets. Oh, and you might want to dismiss your pet there unless it's absolutely necessary. Creatures like that aren't welcome here."
"Believe me, Msssssss. I wasn't about to-"
"HEY, YOU WANNA GO TO SPUMONI-WORLD, 2,468,642ND LAYER OF THE ABYSS?!?"
"Would I ever?! Count me in!"
With that, the freakish protean sucks itself into nothingness like noodles down a drain - abandoning Lucija of his own accord for the first time ever.
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"Wha-well *at least* return with a souvenir!" Snaps Lucija as she drops (with unnatural grace, it seems) to the floor before stepping through the portal.
Lucija pulls out another old friend she's relied upon much less before now: A grim-looking tome she'd discovered in her very first adventure with the Society.
"Let's see if a word of what you say is truly worth its ink, Coganaris...."
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Your group has little trouble navigating the streets of Dis, though it still takes you the better part of an hour.
You do find traversing the distance between ground and tower is a bone barge carried by a fiendish roc. The ferryman says it's 10 gold pieces each way, and that he'll ferry you unharmed and unchanged from here to there for that price.
The floating tower drips a constant rain of pitch onto the streets below and vibrates with a chorus of screams from the countless living tongues layered into its walls. In contrast, the upper portico hums pleasantly with commerce. Pergolas covered in thorny vines and quivering flesh loom over the maze-like cobbled streets. Snaking flames illuminate storefronts promising life, death, and everything in between, while tents of all shapes and construction host the quick patter of haggling and the predatory gaze of shopkeepers. Fiends, mortals, and more barter and deal, all under the watchful gaze of an enormous blue dragon perched atop the tower.
The merchants here are odd, and you see that in many cases items are exchanged without money passing from hand to hand. Bargains seem to be made as a primary form of currency. As if to perfectly demonstrate, one of the merchants tries to draw Lucija over. "You there, pretty girl, I can feel your feelings from here, such strong feelings... you could do so much more without them! Imagine your power without fear, without apprehension, without doubt. I will give you a good price for them. Come, see my wares!"
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Eadie hands ten hard-earned Mendevian gold crowns to the ferryman wordlessly.
Don’t get any holy crusader-taint on your filth encrusted claws, old mate.
Once in the tower market, Abadar’s still faithful soul finds herself slipping back into the usual role of minder for her companions.
I’m adapting to this demented world order faster than I thought. Not good.
She waves off any approaching merchants politely but firmly. “We have very good diplomats in this group. I vote to turn them loose on this town.”
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As Fendel walks through the streets, he is nearly overwhelmed by the suffering he witnesses. His highly acute senses, so used to taking in his surroundings, now seem more like a burden as every sight and sound leave its mark on the detective. The usually clinical mind has difficulty remaining impartial at the amount of suffering witnessed.
The research...the detailed accounts, nothing can prepare you for the ...immensity of this reality that is Hell. All my years have walked Golarion without worshiping a god. I refused to be chattel in their games. Given the eternal nature of the soul, perhaps it is time to rethink that strategy. How can a mortal stand up to this alone?
Eadie finds one merchant more persistent than the others. "You there! Brave one! Come, we make trade. Your soul, which you will never use after all, never miss, for something of great value! What use to you is your soul? Come, come."
25+: The erinyes Arenthea is a known associate of Leventi’s and seems particularly desperate to acquire any rare tomes or secrets.
30+: The night hag Yseldra buys, sells, and leases the souls of dead warriors from her well-hidden shop. She is renting the soul of Ophelia Peran, a former Thrune agent, to Leventi, but she’s grown aggravated with the contract devil’s high pressure tactics to buy the contract. The likelihood that she would make another deal with Leventi is slim.
Total Time: 2 hours.
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Ando stares with a growing sense of horror at the sights they are exposed to, I am not sure there is enough beer in the world to scrub the memory of this place. He keeps pace with Fendel, impressed by his ability to navigate the market and deal with its denizens. He offers the odd suggestion here and there but mostly focuses on trying to shut out the voices.
Perhaps we should start with this Night Hag? If she can be convinced to end the contract for Perans soul we might be able to find useful information?