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"You knocked them asleep? Good one, Amarandlon." Jiggo pats the elf on the back - hopefully he doesn't recoil. "We were able to rescue the Dawnflowers, too."
"Taldor banned worship of Sarenae since 4528 ar, almost 200 years ago. The amount of persecution has waned and wavered since then. Obviously the urban areas like Oppara and the xenophobic southern border towns like Zimar are much worse, but it's nice to hear there are havens out there."
Jiggo shakes his head. "But you already know that more than I do." He turns to the Dawnflowers. "It's very brave and honorable of you to worship here. There are people out there who need your help."
As Jiggo wanders through the labyrinth, he suddenly realizes something. "Oh right! Where are we going?"
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The halfling woman named Piria timidly answers Jiggo's question.
"I think the best we can do now is to try and find our way to the Vault of Sarenrae, although I’m not familiar with this particular part of the catacombs. Sarenites like us have used the catacombs for centuries to meet in secret and to move around the city undetected. It’s not the safest place, as we’ve encountered criminals and dangerous creatures down here from time to time, but I don’t think we have a better choice at the moment. The Porthmos Militia has likely alerted the other city guards to us. I doubt the streets are any safer at the moment."
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Callan puts away the parchment and charcoal he'd been using to draw a rough map of the tunnels and offers to take point as the journey forth.
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Amarandlon smirks as he sees the guards tumble. "Thank you, sirs," he says crisply to Erevan and Jiggo. "I do aim to please." Then he ducks down the stair and follows the others into
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In the catacombs, Amarandlon looks around with interest. "Well, you're hardly the first to use these tunnels," he chimes in. "You know that these may be up to 6,000 years old? This city was perhaps founded by descendants of Old Azlant. Maybe we should look around, see if there's anything of interest..." He starts to peer down a side passage, but hurries back to the group within moments.
"On a different note..." he clears his throat, turning to Piria. "I'm surprised to see your cult encountering such severe persecution. It doesn't seem to be in line with the most recent Taldan government policies as I know them...is there a person whom you blame this on?"
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Callan, ever cautious, looks intently for traps or pitfalls along their route.
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"On a different note..." he clears his throat, turning to Piria. "I'm surprised to see your cult encountering such severe persecution. It doesn't seem to be in line with the most recent Taldan government policies as I know them...is there a person whom you blame this on?"
"Is this prosecution recent? Maybe we can stop whomever is in charge of it. We can't tolerate this kind of treatment!"
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Piria hesitates before answering Amarandlon and Jiggo.
"I... don't think the brutality of the recent raid on the Dawnflower Blossoms reflects the current government’s attitude toward us within Taldor’s borders. If I may bold enough, I think that it is more likely to be the result of a single, ultra-patriotic zealot but I don't have a name, I'm not even the leader of this group. They were all slaughtered during the raid..." and saying, she begins to sob.
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"Thank you, Sir." answers Piria to Jiggo, a little more cheerful than before.
The catacombs twist and turn, the passages ranging in width from narrow five-foot crawlspaces to massive twentyfoot avenues. The walls and floors vary in material from rough-hewn stone to cobblestone to moldering wooden boardwalks. The current stone passage spans a width of twentyfeet and features dozens
of smaller, five- and ten-foot-wide, round tunnels branching off every few yards. The air is dry and still.
As you stride forward in the Vault's direction, Erevan, Amarandlon and Hasshin notice a decrease in small vermin and an increase in cobwebs as they pass through the tunnel. You also, with Callan, notice a giant spider hiding in one of the 10-foot-wide side tunnels before it springs its attack.
[ spoiler=Rolls]
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[/spoiler]
Erevan, Amarandlon, Hasshin
GS
Callan, Jiggo
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Amarandlon smirks. "Here, allow me," he says with a smile. Taking the wand, he murmurs something and taps Erevan, creating a brief, shimmering halo around the half-elf. "A handy spell to have stored in a repeating device," he comments. "May I?"
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Amarandlon grins. "Please. I have an idea..." Squeezing past some of the frontliners, he ducks around a column and draws a wand. "Courtesy of my friend Janira," he says with a wink to the ones who were present for that venture. Then he says a word and the corridor before him surges with fire.
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"Hasshin!" Amarandlon scolds. "You're in the way of my evocation!"
The elf sighs, tucking his wand away, then closes his eyes. When he opens them, the world seems to be moving more slowly to his new sight. Small, glittering streams link every creature in the room and shine brightly from some of his companions' gear. He turns his gaze to the spider.
"Now, Hasshin," he says, voice echoing slightly. "From the left!"
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Despite all their best efforts, Erevan and Hasshin don't manage to touch the spider.
It climbs even higher (5 foot step up) and is now out of reach of your attacks (unless you have ranged attacks or reach weapons). She spits a web at Callan and hits him! Callan is now under a deep coat of web and is entangled.
Callan, Jiggo, Erevan, Amarandlon, Hasshin
GS [16]
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The spider dies from the well-aimed arrow Amarandlon fired, falling loudly to the ground. There is nothing much to loot.
As you're greeted by the dawnflower blossoms, you continue your way in the catacombs and arrive soon in the Vault of the Dawnflower.
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About an hour after the spider ambush, you and the Sarenite refugees finally reach the Vault of Sarenrae. In the center of this large, natural cavern, easily more than forty feet in height, stands the ruin of a truly ancient temple constructed of chipped grey and white marble. Its domed roof collapsed long ago, but the structure is otherwise in remarkably good shape. Where doors must once have hung, a small campfire now burns, surrounded by piles of ragged but neatly folded bedding.
Piria timidly informs you that, millennia ago, this magnificent temple served as the center of Taldan Sarenrae worship. As time wore on and the faith’s popularity gave way to the veneration of Aroden, the temple, like so much of ancient Oppara, was built over and lost beneath countless layers or new development. Now, the Dawnflower Blossoms and other underground cults of Sarenrae use this as a gathering place for their largest meetings and a refuge in dangerous times.
As you make your way into the vault, you see that seven people sit huddled around the small campfire to ward off the damp and cold of the cavern. As soon as they spot the approaching party, they pick up wooden clubs and leap to their feet suspiciously. One of the cult members calls out, "Well met by moonlight, sisters and brothers, but soon the dawn will come!" Upon hearing the coded greeting, the cultists by the fire set down their weapons and welcome the party and their fellow Sarenites to the camp.
One of the lay priests present here, a slim, redheaded human man with pinched features, invites you into the ancient temple, offering you seats in the recently constructed pews. All are given food and wine, and while everyone is eating and drinking, the priest talks to you:
"I am Akkuret, priest of Sarenrae. May I ask you where are you coming from and what did you endure?"
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Jiggo reclaims his dagger as the spider falls.
"Greetings, Akkurret! My name is Jiggo. My friends and I arrived just in time to help these Dawnflowers out. Someone is persecuting these poor people."
"Oh. How long have you been down here? It's not really safe at this point. Maybe you need to seek shelter elsewhere?"
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Akkuret answers Erevan.
"Indeed! But I know what happened to the blossoms... That Chalfon Dalsine! It was him who ordered all of what happened in the city lately! Filthy criminal!"
Then he turns towards Jiggo and shows an absent look.
"Well a while, now. You know it's really easy loose track of time. But we never encountered any troubles down here. Dalsine's forces seem to either avoid this part of the catacombs or they don't know them well enough."
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The Half-Orc Callan hungrily accepts the nourishment offered and makes short work of his portion, he then says, "Thank you Akkuret, priest of Sarenrae for sharing your food and drink. I have been involved in death and dying for what seems the entirety of my existence and religion has never found its way into my life. Although I may not understand your dedication to something that you can not possess, I do understand right from wrong; and vengeance for wrongdoing may just become my religion."
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"Hmph," Amarandlon snorts. "I share your skepticism, Callan. The power conduits of so-called 'divine magic' are far too circuitous and limited for my liking. But I digress." Standing and brushing crumbs off himself, the elf says, "I'm far from certain, friends, that we can promise to bring Dalsine to justice. But if you can point us to where he is, friends, then I think there's at least an even chance that it will happen. Dalsine is in possession of several parcels that the Society needs, and retrieving them could get...complicated."
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Smiling at Callan and Amarandlon's speeches, Akkuret answers the party "You may want to rest a little before going out, it's dangerous out there. Are you wounded? And I may have some informations you don't. Don't you know this wise saying: Knowing is half the battle?"
Looking at Erevan, Akkuret raises an eyebrow. "Well, you aren't very versed in politics, aren't you Sir? Chalfon Dalsine was part of the pathfinder society but was expelled, due to many events. Because of his family’s wealth, he was able to circumvent some of the more stringent requirements the Society places on its initiates, and live a life of relative luxury. He paid others to complete his chores and assignments, and spent his days and nights in Absalom’s brothels and taverns. He did not care that his actions violated the Pathfinders’ basic rules, believing that his ancestry and social class placed him above such boring, petty concerns."
He makes a pause to see if you followed his explanations, taking a sip of his bottle of water.
"I worked a lot in the dawnflower's information cell. Chalfon left Absalom angry and bitter, and spent the next few years roaming the Inner Sea region in search of distractions. When his gambling debts began to mount up, he fled his many creditors and went into hiding in rural Taldor. With nothing else to do so far from “civilization,” the bored noble began dabbling in esoteric arcana under the tutelage of a local, reclusive magic theoretician named Banell Half-Drowned, who followed the way of the magus, preaching the blending of magical and martial techniques and he soon became one of Banell’s most promising students."
Akkuret pauses once again, apologizing.
"I'm sorry but to understand this story, you'll have to understand the big picture."
"Since Chalfon blamed the Pathfinder hierarchy for many of his own problems, he later joined a group called the Shadow Lodge constituted of people disenchanted with the Society, and aimed to supplant the inefficient and feckless Decemvirate."
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"The nice thing about the Pathfinder Society is that they'll accept you regardless of creed, social status or wealth. But in exchange you have to follow the three basic tenets: Explore, Report, Cooperate. Sounds like Dalsine didn't do that..." Jiggo shakes his head. "And fell in with the wrong crowd."
"Doesn't explain why he's persecuting you guys, though. This must be a Shadow Lodge plot. All the more reason to get there as soon as possible- we don't have time for rest, sadly."
Jiggo gathers his belongings and prepares to leave...