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A thin man with rigid posture enters. His clothing represents the height of fashion in Sothis, and his loose shirt hides the scintillation of mithral beneath. In places where his muscles do show, it looks corded and striated, like a quartermaster’s rope. His dark hair bears a single streak of silver. While he is quick to smile, his jaw remains semi-clenched most of the time, as if he expects the situation to crumble at any moment. As he greets others his eyes focus with an archer’s aim, studying the other person the way a wizard studies a relic of arcane power. When done, he gives a genuine smile before returning to his expectant state.
This is Agis of Sothis
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Indra arrived to the appointed meeting place to find only one other had arrived ahead of her. She saw the thin, rigid, man and thought to herself, Interesting, he seems to understand discipline and rank given his stance and measuring gaze. As Indra approached Agis she smiled gently and said, "I take it you are here for the job from the tiefling as well?" She curtsied and said, "I am Indra, you are?" Indra was dressed in a traditional Vudrani sari with a strapless top and knee length skirt underneath it. Her midriff was bared and her long brown hair was worn straight. She was well kept and fastidiously clean and arranged, a woman who might well value order, and walked very gracefully. Her skin was dusky and she wore a kind of circlet with dangling pearls on her head. Her only weapon seemed to be a dagger that she had in a nice sheathe at her waist.
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As the Grinning Pixie lurches and sways in the storm as Indra and Agis discuss when Venture- Captain Calisro Benarry of the Arcadian Mariner’s Lodge enters the room. She sits and then grins widely as she slides a clay jug of strong Sargavan rum across her table. Though broad-shouldered and half a head taller than most humans, the intimidating half-orc speaks with an almost childlike excitement in her husky voice.
“My apologies for all the secrecy,” she says. “I had to make sure some pirate rascal didn’t catch wind of our mission. Now that Drenchport’s a week behind us and we’re hugging the Eye of Abendego, it’s time to give you lubbers the full run-down.”
Benarry waits for the jug to make its way back to her, then takes a long swig. “I mentioned in Drenchport that the Society wants you to explore a recently discovered ruin somewhere north of the Shackles. Well, that was partly true, but it wasn’t exactly the whole story.” Benarry’s eyes narrow and her grin becomes unsettlingly sharklike. “We’re actually sending you to the Gloomspires, to Old Sevenfingers’s tomb.” Chuckling softly, she slides the jug back across the table. “Here, have another nip. Looks like you need it.”
The Gloomspires are an ancient field of massive stone columns that rise from the Arcadian Ocean. Most sages say they were already old when the Ghol-Gan Empire was young. The Gloomspires are hollow and contain many chambers and passages, all of which are believed to be cursed, monster-infested, or both.
Since the time of Ghol-Gan, many of the Gloomspires have been explored, and some have even been claimed and repurposed by other beings. Of these, Sevenfingers’s tomb is the most well known.
The Gloomspires are inundated with strange, reality-warping effects. The columns occasionally shift their positions, and many explorers report feeling a sense of wrongness and foreboding just from being in the area. This bizarre magic also makes teleportation and planetraveling magic very difficult, though summoning spells tend to function normally.
The Gloomspires were constructed during the Age of Serpents by a humanoid race of powerful sorcerers called the Makers, who are believed to have escaped enslavement from some nightmarish realm and fled to Golarion.
Sempet Sevenfingers was a legendary pirate who was active in the region 300 years ago.
From his dreaded flagship, the Voracious, Sevenfingers commanded a small fleet of pirate ships. He was feared and despised for using cannibals and madmen to augment his boarding parties.
Sevenfingers was a powerful wizard who dabbled in necromancy and communed with evil outsiders, entities from the Dark Tapestry, and other beings from unspeakable realms beyond Golarion.
Sevenfingers had dealings with the denizens of Leng. His flagship, the Voracious, was actually a black ship of Leng, gifted to Sevenfingers by his dreadful allies.
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Shaking her head slightly at the offered drink Indra responded, "No thank you, though the offer is appreciated." She bent her mind to remembering what she could of these places, not sure if she knew anything useful, but trying none the less.
After a moment or two of thinking Indra responded with some information, "As I recall the Gloomspires are an ancient field of massive stone columns in the Arcadian Ocean. The general agreement seems to be that they were already old when the Ghol-Gan Empire was first formed. They are alsoe hollow and have many chambers and passages, all of which are believed to be cursed, monster-infested, or both. Since the time of Ghol-Gan, many of them have been explored, and some have even been claimed and used by other beings for one reason or another. The most well known of them is Sevenfingers’s tomb." As to the latter topic she shook her head, "Unfortunately I'm not aware of anything else about Sevenfinger's Tomb other than the fact of it's being in the Gallowspires and a tomb."
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Robyyn had been spending most of his time on deck since the ship departed Drenchport, enjoying the rising wind in his hair as the ship approached and then skirted the ever-present storm at the center of the Eye of Abendego. His light and dusty grey robes swirled and snapped in the storm as much as his hair.
When called below decks to sit down with the Captain and the rest of the Pathfinders, it seems that the breeze has followed him, as his hair and beard continue to whirl and sway in an unfelt breeze. From time-to-time the motion of his beard reveals a tiny grey bat that rests inside, almost (but not quite) imperceptible among the light grey hairs of his beard. He seems to almost glide down the steps; it's hard to say if his feet ever make contact with the stairs or if he just floats down while making a stepping motion with his feet.
He settles into a seat opposite the captain, and listens to her tale. When she reveals that there is more to their quest, an almost imperceptible grin arises on his face. He grabs the offered jug and takes a deep pull, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand as he passes it around the table with the other.
"I haven't heard much of the gloomspires, but this Sevenfingers, I know of him. A famous--or, more aptly, an infamous--pirate. Favored crewing his ships with cannibals or madmen, I always heard. How much of that can be believed, who knows? It was more than 300 years ago, as far as I know."
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The jovial, redheaded, bubbly one of the two gnomes in the party takes in the news with a carefree laugh. "Gloomspires of Old Sevenfingers? Not an auspicious name, if they can't keep track of all their fingers. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Fenwick Findlefarb Tippletree Woogodoo Nanoquick Balnibarbi Kruknik Whoopsalittleovertotheleftnexttime Nashizzar. The Fourth. No, that's not an auspicious name, either."
Producing a goblet from somewhere in the folds of his clothing, he pours himself a drink from the jug. "Most recently, I was the Grand High and Most Inimically Holy and Extremely Esteemed Jester of the Joyful Court of Count Razimov, but I supposed that's actually the Late Count Razimov of some patch of land in Galt. As you can imagine, we don't get much news of the Shackles in far-off Galt, so you'll please forgive me if I fail to give your words the weight they warrant."
He shifts in his seat. Was that sound... clucking? "In any case, I'm proud to be a Pathfinder and so I welcome the opportunity to learn to be properly terrified by your revelation! Should I emit wails of despair now?"
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The boastful, blueheaded, chivalrous one of the two gnomes in the party smiles broadly as the description of their mission gets all the more interesting "My lady, we will fight off an armada of pirates if we have to! The treasure will be retrieved for the Society, you have my word as a Knight." He grabs hold of the table as the ship continues to lurch back and forth, his knuckles going white "Ahem, why I took on a group of ten pirates single-handedly when I was exploring the caves near my home..." The large grey wolf that has been resting in the corner of the room looks askance at Lord Braggett "Once you get them on dry land, they are no match for a trained knight on horseback!" You could have sworn the wolf rolled its eyes before settling its head back down on its paws and going to sleep.
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"That...mirrors...my own knowledge," says an Erutaki man, entering the gathering place. He fills the doorway to the cabin of the meeting area and has to stoop to enter. Well over six feet tall and adorned in tribal furs and charms, the man stands in the candlelight before the rest of the group. His skin is leathery with deep creases. Laugh lines skitter across his weathered face. When he speaks again, it is in the same baritone voice as before, slow and methodical, as if he considers each word several times over before it has chance to leave his mouth."My...apologies. I was conferring with...help."
In the candlelight at times a shape ripples on the edges of his shadow and what appears to be a child's shadow peeks out from behind the man's own, as if a child were hiding behind his legs, though none are there, and never were.
"My name is Iqaal...of the...Miusunnit tribes, son of the Stilt City. You...may call me Iqaal."
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Venture-captain Benarry smiles at Lord Bragett.
"Delighted to hear that. I'm no lady, though. Keep your antics for yourself, sir." she says with a toothy grin.
Not caring much for the refusal of rum, she resumes her briefing.
“Very well, now that you presented yourselves, I have to admit that I’ve been researching the Gloomspires for a very long time. Before I sailed to Absalom and joined the Society, I was a Free Captain here in the Shackles. Back then I learned about the Gloomspires, Old Sevenfingers, and all the treasure and secrets the old devil took with him when he sealed himself in his tomb.” A long, rumbling growl of thunder makes Benarry pause, and she takes the opportunity to wet her lips with another swig of rum before she continues.
“Since joining the Society, I’ve been able to learn even more about the Gloomspires. Most importantly, I’ve discovered that they’re tied to certain alignments of the stars, and that twice each year—beginning on the nights of the summer and winter solstices—the columns cease moving for exactly three days.
“So, tomorrow’s the summer solstice. Now that you know the ‘where’ and the ‘when’ of this little caper, you need to know why the Society’s sending you.” Benarry pauses before continuing in a more conspiratorial voice.
“I recently came into the possession of a logbook once owned by the pirate captain, Mazzer Thrennt. Before Thrennt ended up as lusca-bait seven years back, he was a moderately successful pirate who shared my obsession with the Gloomspires. It turns out his log contains an inventory of the plunder he liberated over the years, including the loot he found in Sevenfingers’s tomb. One item on Thrennt’s list immediately got my attention: His log described with perfect accuracy a relic from lost Lirgen called the Orb of Stars. I’m certain that this device can manipulate the alignments of the stars — or at least how we perceive them — and historical accounts suggest we could also use it to trick the Gloomspires into thinking that the solstice lasts more than just a day. The Society and I both want that orb, and it’s going to look really good to the folks back home if you’re able to secure it. Here,” she says, passing a sheet of parchment across the table.
“I’ve written down some of the particulars. Any questions?” she adds.
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Lord Braggett nods "Quite right, quite right... Oh, there is one thing! Do you have any picks or spades we could requisition for this excursion? You know, just in case one of my comrades needs to dig an entrance to this delightfully named Hall." He says while gesturing towards the larger members of the team "We will, of course, return them to you when the task is complete my Lady... Ahem, I mean Captain."
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Having read the notes and considered what her companions had said Indra noted, "Actually, Findlefarb, I'd say he was a quite intelligent pirate. Documenting his loot made sure he would know what he had there, and leaving it in the tomb where it could only be accessed at certain times would have been a good way to keep it secured from those who would want it. He would always know when to be here to guard it and would likely add to it at those times. He might well have needed time to determine just where he could sell it and for how much so it was safest to leave it in the secure tomb I think." She looked at Robyn then, "I would think that, if we couldn't find it and got trapped we could keep looking, we might be able to find it and reopen the tomb early. If we got out after failing we could always try again next time it opens I would think."
Indra looked to the captain and asked her, "I assume that such would be an option, returning to check again the next time should it not turn up? I also have to agree with Iqaal, what are these...flesh eaters, the tomb is named for?"
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To Lord Bragett, Benarry answers "Yes, of course, mate. Take what you need. There's also a shop on board if you need to purchase wares."
To Iqaal she answers "Well, Thrent's log mentioned his exploration of Sevenfingers’s tomb and a few of the other Gloomspires, but the old goat was careful not to map or describe the Gloomspires’ interiors or describe any of the monsters or traps he and his crew encountered. His log contained an inventory of the treasures he found, which included a description of what I believe is the Orb of Stars. Thrennt claimed to have left the Orb in a side chamber connected to the ‘great Hall of the Flesh Eaters’ — a name long associated with the uppermost level of Sevenfingers’s tomb. He also claimed that he collapsed the tunnel leading to the chamber with the intention of returning later with digging tools to retrieve it."
Listening to what you tell, he eventually says "Be wary, Sevenfingers was not only a pirate, he also was a powerful wizard. What happens if you fail? You get eaten or ghoulifed, I guess. Well... don't fail, that's the key!" she says with a chuckle.
"By the way, I’ll be in the general area studying another section of the ruins, so you don’t have to worry about me constantly looking over your shoulder. The window of opportunity is too short for me to work on just one project." she adds.
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"Got it!" Lord Braggett exclaims as he hops off his chair and walks towards Sir Kibble "Go in pick up the orb thingy and get out again quicker than a..." he stops to think for a second "Than a really quick thing that is late for a thing..." The large grey wolf slowly stands and shakes its head as Braggett scratches him behind the ears.
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"Hall of the Flesh Eaters! Now we're talking."
The clucking does reveal itself as an actual chicken, a white hen, somehow concealed in a hidden pocket on the jester's outfit. "They probably don't mean your flesh, chicken. I know, everywhere is the Hall of the Flesh Eaters for you."
Findlefarb thinks for a moment, and adds, "Perhaps there could be some alchemist's fire aboard? If the talk about undead is right, they really do make an unappreciative audience."
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The trip from the western edge of the Eye of Abendego takes about 2 days, and you experience minimal difficulty navigating the waters and reaching the base of Sevenfingers’s Tomb.
Once you arrive at the Gloomspire, it took nearly two hours to climb the narrow, winding steps to the summit of the great stone column containing Sevenfingers’s tomb. Although the swirling chaos of the Eye of Abendego lies only a hundred miles away to the east, the violent storms it constantly hurls across the seas seem to have forgotten this eerily quiet place. Surrounding the monolith are dozens of nearly identical columns, their ominous outlines stretching down into the mist. And here, atop Sevenfingers’s tomb, is a small clearing surrounded by a thick and utterly silent veil of tropical trees, hanging vines, and thick undergrowth, all shrouded in fog.
The summit of Sevenfingers’s tomb is covered with thick tropical foliage. Most of the trees here stand 30 to 40 feet tall and consist of various types of banyan trees, corkwoods, mangroves, palms, and strangler figs. Due to the ever-present mists, visibility atop Sevenfingers’s tomb is limited to 20 feet. There is very little natural wildlife here beyond insects and the occasional lost, miserable sea bird.
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Lord Braggett whistles "Look at those trees! Just like home isn't it lad?" He pats Sir Kibble on the neck as the wolf lopes along beside Agis. The proud looking gnome bobs up and down in the impressively padded saddle, he has already donned his shield and holds a flail in his other hand. With a fresh candle impaled on the spike at the top of his helmet, he feels he is ready for anything.
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Iqaal raises an eyebrow at the chicken. "Is this...a game of your people, are these not food where you are from?"
Later, he looks on at the dour sight and walks silent and trying to remain as alert as possible.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Findlefarb looks up at Iqaal. "Game? Definitely game. We eat chickens, too. But as a precautionary measure, I've always seen it useful to travel with a chicken. Startle one for an alarm! Pet one to soothe one's nerves! And yes, makes for a handy meal that won't spoil should you find yourself hungry. But, oh, yes, most definitely, this chicken..." he winks and presses his finger against his nose "...is game."
He gives the chicken a chance to scratch for insects, atop the mountain.
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The island wa certainly not what Indra expected. She figured it would just be a tall spire of rock, not an actual floating island that moved. The trees were much larger than she would have expected for it too, the place was very...interesting.
As Findlefarb pulled out a chicken from his pocket Indra was intrigued and listened as he explained it's presence. She smiled slightly and said, "I never thought of that. If I find I need to calm down may I try petting your chicken as well Master Findlefarb?"
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Findlefarb looks around, wide-eyed.
"Um... YES! Chickens are extremely powerful eldritch beasts! I hear tell that the great, legendary Starfall was simply a coverup for the truth... that it was CHICKENFALL! Why, the whole devil-worship thing in Cheliax is done to hide the fact that they all actually worship chickens! Have you ever been to a chicken dinner in Cheliax, and survived to tell the tale? I think not!"
He whips out a series of small balls and a paddle, and calls out "Behold!" He announces a series of odd chants, and the paddle stars bouncing and juggling the balls in air. A moment later, chicken feathers start to fall, dancing in the air as they float toward the ground.
Catching and stowing his equipment, he wiggles his fingers pseudo-mystically and hauntingly whispers...
"...Chickens..."
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As you all discuss, you reach a lush canopy of tropical trees, flowering vines, and thick undergrowth forms a dark green wall around this small clearing. A broad trail cuts through the foliage and vanishes into the mists to the northwest. To the south and east is the edge of the column, and a sheer five hundred-foot drop. The ground here is a soggy carpet of thick green moss and black soil.
You determine that the plants growing here seem to be stripped of all edible fruit and seeds.
You find the remains of a weeksold campfire that contains the charred skull and bone fragments of a humanoid. All of the bones show signs of
gnawing.
You find humanoid tracks leading along a thin path to the
north, where you are heading.
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"So, cannibals then? Very curious."
Robyyn examines some of the growth at the edge of the clearing. "I should point out that they may not be cannibals by choice. Look here; these have been stripped of all edible berries."
Robyyn withdraws a gnarled wand from within his robes and activates it on both he and Ayrii.
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Looking over the old campfire, trail, and local plants, Findlefarb adds, "Well, at least there was a fire. I was expecting the undead. They don't need campfires."
His ever-present smile fades as he continues to think. "But... there are no signs of humanoids here, other than this fire. How long have they been stranded here? And if they ate all the food, and we are the first humanoids to step here in a while, then wouldn't that mean they're eating their own? This... this is giving me a terrible chill. They might not be adversaries, but people needing help."
He starts with a realization, counts on his fingers, and adds, "But this place hasn't been reachable for over a week! Would this be our fate should we not leave before the time is right?"
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"People needing help you say? Then onward we must go..." he searches the ground for a moment "Um, these tracks are obviously easy to follow." He says confidently pointing in a direction opposite to where the tracks lead "So I will allow one of you to lead the way while Sir Kibble and I keep an eye out for cannibals, survivors, or chickens!" He makes sure to readjust his shield and swings his flail a little to loosen up in preparation of any trouble.
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Iqaal produces a similar wand to Robyyn's from his pack and with a word of activation, a translucent field shimmers around his body for a brief moment.
"On the ice," Iqaal says, lost in memory, "There were times when you were lost and you were hunting and your hood pulled down for the blindness and the unchanging day and you were still lost and had to eat and hoped the thing you were hunting and eating was...game. And your shadow only watched on, bunched at your feet."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Findlefarb's impromptu comedy routine was entertaining enough, though she suspected he could do much better if given half a chance. She laughed gently and said, "Well done Master Findlefarb, that was funny. As you graced us with a performance, maybe later on I will dance for you."
As they proceeded into the island's interior Indrana noticed the same thing that Robyn had and said, "You're right, they have been haven't they." She approached the remains of the campfire and said a few words in a strange language.
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You analyse the clearing with great expertise and start to realize why the local island is called after the title "flesh eaters".
As you move forward, you reach another clearing. This clearing is shrouded in shadows thanks to the thick jungle canopy overhead. A dozen makeshift beds of leaves and palm fronds surround a sickly campfire that barely manages to keep smoldering in the humid air.
Due to the thick foliage and the smoldering campfire, the entire clearing contains only dim light even during the day. A few splintered bones and cloven skulls litter the clearing, and all show signs of being gnawed upon. In the mist, you spot some humanoid forms rising up and taking an offensive stance with clubs. However, they're too slow to act before you do! One of them seems to lead the tribe.
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Agis [28/28] : ?
Iqaal [19/19] : ?
Indra [9/9] : ?
Robyyn+Ayrii [7/7] : ?
Braggett [12/12] : ?
Findelfarb [10/10] : ?
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CANNIBALS! [Green@ ; Blue@ ; Yellow@ ; Pink@ ; Red@ ; Leader@]
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