The summons from Sheila Heidmarch arrives two hours before dawn. It is both urgent and terse, merely naming a room in the lodge where you are to meet as soon as possible. She will meet you there.
As you arrive in the sparse room, you are met with a few chairs, but not much else. Whatever it is that Sheila summoned you and your fellow pathfinders for, it must be important for her to ignore the propriety of attempting to impress pathfinders under her.
It seems you have a moment to make the acquaintance of your fellow team members. Best make use of it.
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Takkit arrives first, his bushy tailed twitching slightly with nervousness.
I hate being the first one in the briefing room. Then everyone thinks you know what the mission is, and I don't have a clue!
He takes a seat toward the back of the room, his tail curled around and resting on his lap, and pulls out a small wood flute. He begins playing a song his mother taught him when he was just a kit, from her homeland in Tien Xia.
His clawed fingers are surprisingly dextrous for such a task.
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The pale thin man would look more like an accountant than a Pathfinder, if it were not for the arrogant sneer on his face. THAT is all Pathfinder.
He wears embroidered robes bedecked with Sihedron sigils and arcane signs. His lip just naturally seems to curl into a sneer.
"You there. Furry fellow. I suppose you're one of those insufferably bard fellows that always strums a mandolin or plays drums during negotiations, are you? No, I don't want to know your name. Names are for those who complete missions. I shall call you minion. Tell me, minion, what use are you to be put to?"
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Takkit looks up, and his lip slightly curls.
You'll call me by my name, sir. That name is Takkit Shinrou. I'm no performer, unless you count what j do with my knives as a dance.
Quicker than the eye can follow, the flute is gone and two daggers are in the kitsune's paws, each giving off a slight blue glow on the deadly sharp edge.
And I just finished a mission. If you're curious about my contributions, go look at the dead Remorhaz they just brought into the Grand Lodge for dissection, and read the field report. I assume you're one of the magic using types? Good. I'll be one of the ones making sure you don't get knocked senseless.
The daggers disappear into their hidden wrist sheathes and Takkit extends a furry, clawed paw for a handshake.
Takkit. My enemies never see me, until it's too late.
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"Very well, minion Takkit. I will note whether or not you can fulfill your promises on my report of this mission. And yes, I am master of the arcane arts. I expect you'll be familiar with my exploits. If you are not, no matter; you'll soon be quite familiar with them." He shakes the kitsune's hand lightly. His hand is way too moist for a long handshake. His grip is, well, not reassuring.
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The next Pathfinder appears to be familiar with working the earth. His clothing is stained, especially at the arms and legs with the dark color of rich soil, just as his hands are. But if this wasn't enough of a clue, perhaps the small plant creature with head like a carved gourd that follows him would be.
He his festooned with all manor of weaponry. A longbow is slung over his back. At his belt is a heavy pick made of cold iron, a scimitar of adamantine, and a silver machete. He carries a sturdy staff in his hand as he walks. He moves quickly for such a portly man.
As he takes a seat next to Minmaximus, a bit of soil shakes loose, falling to the floor around him. He speaks slowly in a deep, reverberating voice.
Hello, my name is Loxx. I can be your guide through your wilderness or a guard in the ruins. This is my assistant Fetch. I call him fetch because that is what he does.
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A human with a shaved head and wearing the traditional outfit of a monk walks in. You hear the clanking of chains easily before you see them. Wrapped around the human monk's hands are very heavy chains designed apparently to slow the wielder down. "I heard that this mission might already have enough agents, but I would like to offer my abilities and test my strength on such an important sounding task."
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"Ah yes, more minions. Excellent, minions Loxx and Deaglan. You will perform adequately, I trust. I want you to know, just to reassure you, that I have an 88% success rate of returning at least most of my minions' corporeal forms back in working order. Well, of the adequate ones, anyway. Let's not speak of the inadequate ones. But I am confident that you will survive in a very real approximation of your current states." Min nods, his face grim and set as if the matter was closed.
He nods to the new fellow, adding, "Yes, well, more human shields are always welcome, minion. Do you have a name or shall I call you, hmm, let's see, I shall call you Thumper. You look like a Thumper."
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Takkit looks at those gathered in the room, his tail twitching every now and the.
Why is everyone just letting this... mean person get away with being so rude? Oh well. I've dealt with worse. Just gotta finish the mission and then I'll probably never see him again.
To the rest of the group, he introduces himself.
I'm Takkit. I'll be taking care of the traps and stuff. I'm also good with knives. And I carry a lot of stuff that I've found is useful. Just don't let the big nasties come at me, I don't wear big armor like some of you.
In a hurried rush, the Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch arrives. She demonstrates a scarcely contained mix of excitement and anxiety as she motions for everyone to take a seat.
“A short time ago, I sent a team of Pathfinders to recover the refuge tokens that might grant us access to the Runelord Krune’s lair.
She stops for a moment and looks at all of you.
Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. The ancient country of Thassialon, who worshiped the god of runes, Lissala was destroyed in the EarthFall, the great catastrophe that destroyed most of the world. In Thassilon, they had seven rulers named the Runelords. Each embodied a certain "Sin" of magic that they used to empower them and give them strength and magic beyond any we know today. Upon the approach of the Earthfall, these Runelords used various methods to save themselves. One of them is Krune, the Runelord of Sloth.
She sighs.
The Lissalans, the cultists who still follow Lissala, want to revive Krune so that he may bring his reign of tyranny back. We plan on stopping him... but to stop him, we have to gain access to his lair. Another group of pathfinders has collected the magic tokens needed to access his lair... but we still lack the proper command words to activate them, and no amount of divination seems able to provide them.
She leans forward, looking to each them in turn.
“While we don’t know the command words themselves, we do know that the words are etched into a set of rune plates— durable, well-crafted, and roughly parchment-sized tablets bearing ritual instructions—that are held in the Thousandth Spire, one of the many towers at the Thassilonian ruins known as Desgard’s Thousand Columns in what was once Haruka. You won’t have time to formally chronicle the site today, as you
will not be alone. Our divinations also sensed multiple cells of Lissalans converging on the site, and it appears they have a lead. As a result, I have called in a favor from a Lissalan cultist we captured some months ago to have you teleported directly to the site.
“Krune and his predecessors appear to have protected their towers against most forms of divination. As a result, there is little more that I can tell you on short notice. The Thousandth Spire stands near the western end of the site, and its entryway will be marked by these runes,” she states, placing a slip of paper on the table.
“Don’t tamper with any of the other towers unless you know what you are doing; you will be travelling to an eminent site of sloth magic, and there’s little telling what products of conjuration magic lie hidden within.”
With that, Sheila plants her feet and curtly nods to signal the close of the meeting.
“You have your orders: retrieve the runeplates, exercise discretion, and show initiative. You’re among my top agents, and I trust you to do whatever it takes to get the job done. Questions?”
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Takkit gulps.
Um, Just.... Nevermind. I'm good to go.
His tail twitches nervously, but the young kitsune steels himself and turns to the rest of the group.
Well, it sounds straightforward enough. Kill the Lissalans if they get in the way and recover the words we need. Just the fate of the world as we know it hanging in the balance. Sounds about right for a pathfinder mission, no?
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Thumper nods towards Sheila Heidmarch, "My training and fighting style tends to work especially well against magic users. I can demonstrate what I mean with a volunteer mage here without hurting them if any of you need or want an explanation. We should know what we are all capable of if we are to work together on such a dangerous mission." he then speaks directly to Minmaximus, "It might be very beneficial to you as you can only improve yourself if you know what needs improving. Knowing what dangers could be out there could help you prepare for them."
Turning back to Sheila Heidmarch, "Other than that, I stand ready."
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Takkit looks perturbed at Deaglan's claim.
You don't mean... as a zombie or something, do you? I had to fight one of those before. I really don't want to be one.
To everyone else he smiles, his lips curling back to reveal his tiny, sharp teeth.
Like I said, I stab things. And take care of traps. I'm not as good as some, because I prefer fighting, but I'm decent enough I think. I already have everything I need, I'm ready to go when everyone else is.
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"Conjuration... Filthy summoners. Seems about right that they'd bring back the worst possible Runelord. Useless git. As for demonstrations, save them for combat, minion. You'll get no extra credit for showing off. Venture Captain, we will bring you back these plates. You may of course count on it." Min ignores the yammerings of his minions, because it never does to encourage such prattle. "Teleport away."
Enora, a small female halfling in fine robes looks at all of you with interest.
She walks very fast in your direction "Oh I am very sorry for being late!!! But now ... I am here!! My name is Enora. I assume we are all professionals here!! Might be a good chance to get to know each other. I am from Rahadoum originally and am quite interested in magical phenomena - I hope to have your support in uncovering the secrets of this wonderful world. And I am quite optimistic that we will be successful!" she says cheerfully.
Its use virtually died out with the fall of Thassilon.
conjuration magic. Its practitioners abstained from
using evocation and illusion magic.
to thrum with stored conjuration magic. A few sages
speculate that the site might serve as a storage facility of untapped arcane power for those so bold as to call
upon it.
and summoning spells behaved unpredictably yet
became more powerful when near the ruins—when she
managed to control the effect.
are not uniform but appear to be legions of individual
conjuration effects held in stasis.
of what is now Varisia, but it crumbled in the wake of
Earthfall over 10,000 years ago.
smallest provinces of Thassilon. Despite its size, Haruka
cunningly carved a place for itself through its unrivaled
slave trade and prominent role in the worship of Lissala
and the Peacock Spirit.
the violent destruction of Xin-Haruka soon after the
empire’s fall. Historians still debate whether or not a
host of metallic dragons razed the city, and the dragons
have remained silent on the issue.
historian indicate that perhaps metallic dragons take
turns watching over the ruins to ensure that no one
unleashes whatever lies in the towers.
Sheila nods and stands up.
I will be back in a moment... I need to fetch the woman who will cast the magic to take you there. Do NOT tell her why you are going. She is a Lissala cultist that we captured that has... agreed to work with the society. While she is bound by a mark of justice to warn you against
dangerous courses of action and provide nonviolent magical assistance, she is not compelled to explain her reasoning or endanger herself.
She leaves only for a few minutes and returns with a woman who's eyes are blindfolded. The Thassilonian runes tattooed on the prisoner’s left arm are surrounded by a brand of the Glyph of the Open Road.
This is Karethia. Karethia? If you would please.
The woman simply nods...
before she mutters the words of arcane magic, and with a while, you find yourself out under the open sun. A two-tiered, half-mile long ravine gashes a jagged wound across the dry ground of the Storval Plateau, defining the limits of Desgard’s Thousand Columns. A grove of enormous crystalline prisms fills the ravine’s bottom, but only a few of the gem-like pillars crest the fifty-foot cliffs to the north and south. Built precariously close to the precipices on either side rise two rows of sturdy stone towers, each bearing irregularly placed spikes that appear to grow from the stone itself.
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"Beware, these columns hold stored conjuration effects. DO NOT TOUCH THEM if you can at all avoid it." Min spouts off before the teleportation takes them.
"It matches the description. I'd say we're in the vicinity. However, this Thousandth Column might require some searching. Let's begin in a reasoned fashion."
”Wow, I have heard of sin magic and the history of Haruka and ancient Thassilon! Let me tel you... “ Enora says and she starts to talk ... and talk ... and talk!
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Takkit looks at the columns and gulps.
Well, here we are. Now what? Mr. Min, you seem to be the knowledgeable about this place, where do you recommend we start?
He unsheathes his daggers and makes sure all of his potions and other tools are loose in his bandoliers, giving his smoke pellets a somber eye before turning to the rest of the group.
We need to be careful. My last group rushed ahead, and we lost two members. I don't want to have to avenge any more dead friends.
Loxx has an easy enough time finding said trail. Several squads worth of feet heading to the west. The team treks after the trail for a while before they spot the tower before them.
A small army of bodies lie crumpled, broken, and scattered about this tower. Many of the corpses are partially dissolved, and the parched ground is pitted as if from strong acid. Unlike the entrances of the other towers, this structure’s door stands slightly ajar, as if it had been forced open.
More distracting however, is the very large dragon that sits outside it, picking his teeth with the bones of what you can only assume use to be a Lissalian cultist. He looks over the team as they come up the hill and belches.
AH! More fools come to try to break into the tower and release it's evil on the world. Delicious. If you would all just stand still for a minute, I'm quite full from these idiots, and I need to give my stomach a moment to settle, then I'll eat you.
respect, but praise must be sincere without
seeming sycophantic.
their moods, loyalties, interests, and opinions with
little to no warning.
type that enjoys sweet foods and drinks, especially
favoring wine and baked goods.
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Takkit slinks to the side of the group, one clawed hand on a smoke pellet on his bandolier and the other at his side, holding his dagger but not in a threatening stance.
Evil? What evil? We're Pathfinders. The good guys, you know? What's locked away here?
He makes sure that there is at least one beefier party member in-between him and the dragon, but if one views it tactically, he's really just appearing to be non-threatening so he can get the jump on the dragon if it attacks.
”Listen everybody about the dragon ... “ Enora whispers.
”My colleagues and I are here to fight evil and not to support it!“ Enora states.
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The dragon looks at the bunch and curls his tail as he looks at them.
Here to fight evil are you? Most interesting. You say your here to destroy the evil that lies below?
He muses, scratching his chin with one long claw.
Interesting... It could mean I wouldn't have to guard it anymore. But what reassurances do i have that you are not more evil doers yourselves, just ones clever enough to lie first instead of charging the door?
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"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. If you don't allow us to pass, perhaps an evil group will one day defeat or sneak past you and unleash the evil on the world. Do you perhaps possess a mortal form that you could follow us with? You could work together with us." he then displays his chains prominently, "I am no slave, not any longer, I wear these chains until the day that slavery is ended in our world. Their weight slows me down, but they make sure I never forget why I train and why I fight in Falayna's name."