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The Pathfinders find themselves in Nerosyan, Mendev, just outside the Worldwound. (Visual aids here)
Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury stands on a balcony of Starrise Spire, overlooking Nerosyan. The sounds of saws and hammers echo from the city below. He turns to the tall woman in full-plate armor standing by his side and says, “Ollysta, I believe our Pathfinder agents have arrived.”
Ollysta Zadrian recognizes and greets Tiki. ”Venture-Captain, this is Tiki, a valued member of the Silver Crusade.” Addressing Tiki, she says, ”I don’t believe I’ve met your fellow Pathfinders.” She motions for the rest of you to introduce yourselves.
Jorsal bows slightly and smiles. “A pleasure. As you can see, Nerosyan is still rebuilding. However, thanks to the timely and decisive actions of the Pathfinder Society, Mendev still has a city to rebuild. I want to personally thank those of you who had a direct hand in helping to contain the threat of the Worldwound. We now look for new sites to establish forward bases of operations.
“Yet, even our victories shine a light on our failures. It seems that while we were able to rebuild Nerosyan and drive out the demonic scourge, we could not rebuild the body and mind of one of our own.”
Ollysta takes over, “For nearly two years the Silver Crusade has worked with the Pathfinder Society to attempt to cure Valais, a Pathfinder sent to investigate former Venture-Captain Thurl. He kidnapped her, then shattered her mind and body, replacing most of her physique with babau and kalavakus flesh.” The paladin splays her hand and holds it up, as if to the rising sun. “Even the light of the Dawnflower cannot banish Thurl’s darkness; usual healing magic has had no effect.”
Jorsal steps forward, “Valais has an idea that she believes could help the Society and herself, but I’ll let her explain it to you. Are there any questions you have about her unique situation before we call her in? I can also answer any questions you have about the crusade against the demons of the Worldwound before we continue.”
Enora, a small female halfling in fine robes looks at all of you with interest.
She walks very slowly trying to understand the current situation.
"Oh I am so very sorry about Valais' situation!!! But now ... we are here to help!! 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 - Venture-Captain, Ollysta, please be assured that you have our support in uncovering the secrets of this affliction. And I am quite optimistic that we will be successful!" she says cheerfully.
"Can you please tell us what exactly was done to Valais. I am not familiar with her situation and current state of mind and physiology." Enora says.
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The barrel-chested vanara stands upon being introduced, plates of basalt resting over his enormous frame. He face, neck and arms are a tangle of scars.
I am Tiki. Originally I come from the jungles of Casmaron where my tribe was corrupted by the cults of Angazhan. When I refused to follow the demon lord, members of my own tribe tried to tear me limb from limb. As you see I bear the scars of their betrayal. I barely escaped with my life due in no small part to the help of my companion Kiti.
I traveled north but found few who would truly welcome me if not outright rejected me with threats of violence, that is, until I reach Lastwall. They listened to my story and welcomed me. The let me join their ranks as an ally against the demons. No, as more than an ally, as member of a tribe of a different sort than the one I fled from.
Though I have not undertaken many missions for the Society, I immediately volunteered for this one. What was done to Valais seems not too much unlike the scars I was forced to bear from my point of view. Some wounds never fully heal.
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Sitting silently in the corner is a tall but lean human male. His face is mostly covered by a dark hood on a dark cloak- but what light illuminates a dark well kept beard and young eyes. He observes the room quietly, only slight head movements providing acknowledgment of his hearing and understanding of the situation.
At his feet lays a large, black, cat. The light hitting it displays a gentle, almost imperceptible spotting under the black. As soon as the beam of light passes her fur recesses into its deep black color.
The cat, for her part, looks comfortable if not bored.
"How exactly does one replace flesh with that of the demons and the like, and still survive to talk 'bout it? There ain't words enough for that type of evil- an' Ive been in Cheliax for the last couple o' years. I take it you trust her an all?"
The man looks around at the other pathfinders, before pulling back his hood.
"Names Edmund. This here is Kissan. I don't like talkin' much about the past. Spent most of the last few yers stuck in Cheliax. I guess you'd call Verduran woods home but I aint been there since I was a young man. Got me my Kissan and then got my way out."
Looking at him now in the light, it would be hard to believe he was any older than 20 years. Fair skin thus far without scar and his short trimmed hair capture his youthfulness, even as he talks about the events of his "younger days"
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A slender Varisian woman saunters onto the balcony, the footsteps of her stiletto boots announcing her arrival—fashionably late, as always, but just in time to hear the bulk of the mission. She is adorned head to toe in skin-tight, black and yellow clothing that leaves little to the imagination and looks ill-suited to day-to-day lifestyles, let alone the gruesome life of adventuring. Layers upon layers of makeup cover her face, over-accentuating her features to an extreme. On her hip rests a whip of black-and-Yellow threads spiraling down its length, at its end is the image of a wasp prepared to strike. On her inner thigh rests a tattoo of a seven-pointed star, a symbol of her homeland that seems to lightly pulsate with magic. Indeed, this woman is, in every definition, a “lady of the night.”
With little more than a curt half-grin, she introduces herself.
”Izabela Dragi, humble servant of Our Fair Mistress of the Savored Sting.”
Izabela leans against the wall of the building in a position that seems to reveal more about herself than her clothing—she watches for Ollysta’s reaction, she loves teasing such holier-than-thou champions with a little taste of the real world.
”I vaguely remember Thurl, but the Decemvirate always seems keen on sending me far away from my beloved Magnimar—this is the closest to home I’ve been in ages—so my memories of the dwarf are scarce at best. Would you care to catch me up Ollysta, darling?”
At Edmund’s observation, Izabela laughs.
”You’re comparing devils to demons, dearie; they’re as different as apples and oysters. Cheliax tends towards the status quo—iron fist, trials and such—while here it’s about what’s ‘entertaining.’”
The large black cat lays on her side, half on top of Edmund's feet. As you glance at her she is playfully swatting at her tail, which is pulled across her belly and toward her face. She is completely engrossed in her "toy" and ignores the other humans in the room.
In a flash, she is on her feet and her paw comes down hard on the floor. She lifts it inquisitively, as if to see what she caught. She looks perplexed, and then annoyed, as a fly buzzes away and across the room. Settling back down, she lays down like a sphinx- ready to spring into action again if required.
Stupid buzzing thing, ruins good nap. Hoomans talk to much, even my hooman.
She yawns and, having lost interest in the fly, flops back over on her side with an audible thud- stretches- and then closes her eyes for another nap.
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A tall human man stands in another corner, idly retracing the lines on his skin that glow and illuminate his surroundings. He wears a sash and loose-fitting pants, leaving his torso and arms bare save for the tattoos and a cloak tied around his shoulders. A stylized picture of a scorpion seems to follow his finger, then returns to the back of his neck as Kije speaks.
"I too am curious how someone could survive such a procedure," he says lazily. "That she retains her sense of self after such a thing indicates a strong mind. Most folks would simply," he snaps his fingers with a quick flash of fire, "burn up." A slow smile fills his face. "It would be an honor to meet her."
Jorsal explains, “Thurl is dwarven demonologist and former venture-captain. He worked out of Nerosyan in his own lodge, attempting to study the demons to find their weaknesses. Apparently, he was corrupted by his own fascination. He used Valais in his experiments. He replaced much of her body with demonic flesh and suffused them into her essence.”
Ollysta adds, “We’ve tried removing the demon flesh and using regeneration magic to regrow her human body, but the demonic essence is so infused with her soul that the demon flesh grows back. Some have considered powerful resurrection magic, but we’re afraid her soul might not be able to return.”
Jorsal glances at Ollysta, who in return gives a quick nod. ”I think it is time for you to meet Valais,” says Ollysta. Jorsal leaves the room, returning quickly with Valais.
Valais says, “Greetings Pathfinders, My name is Valais. I hope that you do not find my appearance too disturbing ”
”The treacherous villain Thurl thought that demons’ powers would serve him better than Many have suffered at his hands, but ” I need your help investigating a mystery and Jorsal won’t let me go out alone, skulking in the dark, waiting.
“I’ve been having strange dreams lately about stone halls, a terrible beast, and a bleeding tree. Echoing throughout is a single word: ‘Laktharis.’ Our scholars say he is I’ve also felt a compulsion to find something in the Worldwound, dark and hidden.”
Jorsal interjects, “We’d like you to escort her and help her overcome any trials. Keep her safe and watch for anything that could help her condition. While out there, the Crusade asks that we keep an eye out for any abandoned buildings or fortresses we could use and to ensure they are habitable. The crusaders have already sent out a scout, an elf named Shyael. She hasn’t reported in for a week and they’d like an update on her progress. If you don’t run into her, just report your findings about potential sites directly to me.”
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Izabela listens intently to Valais, surprisingly unaffected by the woman’s current appearance. When she finishes, Izabela moves toward Valais and places a hand on her shoulder, her previous, more vulgar demeanor nowhere to be seen as she speaks.
”Valais, your form is not gruesome, merely different. Thurl has cursed you and should be punished, that is true, but the act of vengeance is merely internal gratification—at the end of the day you have not changed physically. I have been cursed myself, and you must learn to live with your curses. A curse does not define you—it merely is a smaller part of the greater whole. You are still Valais, and I hope you don’t forget that.”
Izabela turns to address the Venture-Captain. ”So Valais has been having strange, almost prophetic dreams. What exactly do we know of this Sarkorian God that she is referring to?”
Enora is slight intimidated by the appearance of Valais.
”Do you Valais have any idea what we could face while exploring these visions of yours? And do you know why you are receiving these visions?! It could be a trap!“ she says carefully.
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Kije laughs once. "Hah! Of course it's a trap! That's why we've been called here - to spring the trap and turn its fury against its maker."
He turns to Valais, all traces of mirth or mockery gone from his face. "Though it would certainly help if we knew more about the trap before it is sprung. Stone halls, a beast, and a bleeding tree." He whistles slowly. "That's not much to go off of. And before I forget - Valais, how would you like us to support you?"
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The young man stays quiet, as before. Only a slight flinch at Valais' outburst shows his temperament- though he quickly reigns in his reaction, opting instead for a stoic response.
After a few moments of silence, he looks at Izabela and states matter of factly "Entertainin' enough fer ya?"
"I aint got much of an idea bout whats next, but I am here fer the ride regardless. Eyes peeled fer hideouts and such, along with some missin' half-elf. Got it. Not sure what'll help her condition but we can be lookin' fer that too."
Kissan pays next to no attention to the woman as she enters, caring little for two legs that aren't her companion. She lays calmly until the first of the Valais' episodes- in which she lifts her head, teeth barred.
A quick hand from Edmund calms her down, but her relaxed and playful demeanor has now passed. Her tail puffs up and the hair on her back stands on end- her eyes growing deep and savage. Her tongue runs across her upper lip and teeth, a low growl almost inaudible to all but the closest of the pathfinders.
Edmunds hand again comes forward, this time with a simple gesture in front of her face. Without breaking eye contact from the new lady, Kissan crouches down and the growl comes to a stop- though she still appears ready to defend her master.
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Izabela shoots Edmund glare that can only be described as “interesting.”
”Keep giving me lip like that and I might have to show you some ‘entertainment’ like they do it up here.” To emphasize her point, Izabela flings her whip over her shoulder, swinging and coiling about her shoulder and armpit until there is no more whip to coil. ”Apocrita doesn’t like it when people annoy her mommy.”
Izabela glances sidelong at Tiki following his question. ”Through the Worldwound, of course.” Izabela stops in her tracks, a look of realization shooting across her face. She speaks more slowly, as if thinking out loud. ”Through the Worldwound?—Of course!”
Valais replies, “The Worldwound used to be called Sarkoris before the demons slaughtered the weak. The clans of Sarkoris worshiped innumerable gods . Some even had personal gods they could summon to their sides. Known as god callers, they were the most revered members of Sarkorian society.”
“In my visions...the stone halls are fairly intact, but the windows are full of dirt. They are likely buried like a forgotten corpse. Of I get more of an impression that an image. When I try to remember, I just become overwhelmed by . The tree is fairly large with gnarled limbs and no leaves. Cracks in the tree bleed and burn!”
”I know not where we must voyage...the path feels familiar, like a dance you can only remember when you hear the melody.”
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Knowledge (history or religion): Sarkoris
Diplomacy (gather information) or Knowledge (local): the current state of affairs in Nerosyan
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The young man's tone changes slightly, becoming more introspective and philosophical.
"The cultural religions and beliefs persist, despite influence from Iomedae, Sarenrae, and others. Those displaced by the wound still hold close the idea of a return to their land and their religions of old. It has taken me a moment to place it- but Shyael... there was a Paladin of Erastil who bore that name, am I correct?"
Enora thinks for a moment.
”I know a little about the history of Sarkoris. Listen ... “
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"Intriguing," drawls Kije. "Powerful outsiders and eidolons, you say?" He leans back against the wall. "That's quite a broad range of possibilities, but the 'horrifying visage' angle certainly doesn't make this Laktharis sound like one of the friendly ones."
He turns his attention back to Valais. Even a strong will can burn out, he ponders. The question is, do her inner demons affect her actions as much as her words?
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Izabela smiles warmly at Enora.
”Like I said, it’s been far too long since I’ve been this close to home. But I do remember after the ‘Wound opened and the aftermath. Magnimar wasn’t seriously affected—but I do know of a Sarkorian descendant in My clergy whom I have...fond memories of.
“An Erastilian paladin? Now that’s interesting. I shouldn’t be too surprised—there are Abadaran paladins after all, and those two are pretty much the same save that one lives in the woods.”
The discussion concludes and the party prepares to head out into the Worldwound. Valais leads her fellow Pathfinders through the many alleys and side streets of Nerosyan. She heads east to Thurl’s old Pathfinder lodge, then northwest, before stopping in front of a small burned down shop near the city’s western walls. She sifts her way through the rubble, uncovering a concealed trap door that leads into a smugglers tunnel that travels beyond the walls of Nerosyan and past the Egelsee River. She seems lost and confused for a moment before finding the path again and continuing west.
Once beyond the city, Valais leads the Pathfinders out into the Worldwound, through the scorched hills that used to be the Falling Forest. While no venture into the Worldwound is truly safe, the PCs do not come across anything that poses a significant challenge to adventurers of their caliber. Instead, they encounter fiendish small animals and wandering dretches, the least of the demonkind, which they can frighten off or dispatch without expending resources. In the distance, the ground occasionally explodes in geysers of raw elemental energy.
After 10 days on foot, you make out a group of figures far in the distance. As you approach, you see that it’s an excavation camp, digging out a ruined structure above a twenty-foot high cliff. Picks and shovels lay haphazardly around, and the spire and roof of a stone building peek out from the dense, ashen mud. Over a dozen figures stand along the edge of the ridge, digging away at the dirt to uncover the ancient structure.
”HALT! Who goes there?!” calls one of the figures standing on the roof of the uncovered cathedral. Valais keeps a hood drawn over her face and stays behind the rest of the group.
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OOC: Sorry, missed it entirely... been going crazy
Rose finally gets her thoughts collected and pays attention, after Screech nips her ankles enough times.
"I'm sorry if I've been caught up in my own world, I'll try not to let it take over again.
Rose smiles as the challenge is yelled out.In reply she yells out, "The Lady Rhosalith Shadowblade of House Arpador of Taldor, who be you?"
”We can be honest with you! I am Enora, a Pathfinder from Rahadoum. This is my first visit to the Worldwound. Not a very lovely place to be honest! We are looking for a Paladin. Seen one? Or two!?“ she asks with a big smile.
Kije, even from 100’ away with your keen eyes you can make out a symbol of a bow made of antlers on the speaking figure’s tabard.
After Edmund’s rather unconvincing attempt at explaining that you’re “travelers,” the one speaking shouts, ”Liar! You’re either demons or in league with them! Either way, you’ll not interfere with our work here!” He turns to the people excavating and shouts, ”faithful of
Laktharis, flee while we deal with these demon-friends!” Then retrieves a small vial and drinks it. Most of the people working drop their tools and run, but a few stay and look prepared to fight.
ROUND 1! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
S
Kije
Edmund
CL
Izabela
GC
Rhosalith
Tiki
Enora
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Kije frowns. "That is the symbol of Erastil, so why are they going on about Laktharis?" he wonders out loud, then shrugs. "Oh well."
His hand dives into the pouch on his waist, pulling out a noxious paste and an even smellier crystal. He rolls the two together into a ball as he chants, then flicks it towards the northern end of the building. As it flies much further than a such a motion should have been able to send it, Kije grins. "Been waiting to try this one out," he drawls as the ball explodes with a dull roar and flames.
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Edmund sighs, hoping to avoid combat. Glancing about the terrain, he moves south across the broken ground. Hand signals flash and the jaguar follows closely- ready to defend her friend.
As he moves, Edmund closes his eyes for a brief moment to focus on the might of the bull. Small horns appear on his forehead, and he pulls up his cloak to cover them.
Reaching a place with a clear view of the entire ridge, Edmund pulls back on his bow and unleashes an arrow toward the figure not caught in the fireball blast.
FAIL
FAIL
PASS
Kije’s fireball goes BOOM and thoroughly singes two of those caught in the blast. The strange looking creature seems to evade any damage from it though.
The guy to the south sprouts wings that appear to be made of fire! He then begins casting a spell.
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ROUND 1! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
S
Kije
Edmund
CL
Izabela
GC
Rhosalith
Tiki
Enora
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If he has an Erastilian bow then it’s likely that paladin is nearby.
Izabela whispers a short prayer.
”Mistress, bless me that I might enact vengeance against these fools in Shyael’s stead.”
Izabela’s hands glimmer black and yellow as she moves to a better position, drawing her precious whip as she does so.
Edmund’s arrow connects with the figure who was shouting at you just moments ago and he winces. The warpriestess calls upon Calistria to grant her favor and arms herself with her whip. Two more of the figures on the ridge drink from small vials of liquid, disappearing from sight. The strange crab-like beast appears poised to strike.
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ROUND 1! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
S
Kije
Edmund
CL
Izabela
GC
Rhosalith
Tiki
Enora
Enora casts HASTE!
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Rose leaves her shield on her back as she starts moving forward, hoping to catch the spell Enora is casting. "Screech, Stay with Enora, do as she says until I call for you."
(Know:Religion Auto pass)
If the haste went off and she received it, she'll draw her bow after a 5' step and let fly a few times, at the person wearing the Erastil tabbard.
Damage
Damage
Damage
Enora uses her staff of embers and throws a fireball on the crab and the other two standing on the cliff.
Status: # 7-17: Thralls of the Shattered God
The little arcanist pulls out a staff almost as tall as her and uses it to echo Kije’s tactics.
Rose arms herself with her bow and takes a shot at one of the foes and the arrow strikes home. Tiki augments his defense and Kiti’s offense, and together they advance on the foes. The archer spots Tiki and Kiti and takes a couple shots at the rider.
ROUND 2! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
S
Kije
Edmund
CL
Izabela (Divine Favor)
GC
Rhosalith
Tiki (Barkskin)
Kiti
Enora
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"I don't know what spell that guy's casting, but the long ones are usually more powerful!" Kije yells to Edmund. "See if you can mess it up for him!"
He then turns his attention back to the targets of his fireball, scowling at their recent disappearance. "Now really," he mutters, "that's just rude." He pulls out a bit of shimmering dust, then gently blows it towards where he last saw his targets, where it blooms into a shower of golden motes.
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"Two fer the caster, god'it."
For a brief moment Edmund focuses on the creature- directing his anger against the obvious display of hostility. Desna, guide these arrows
Drawing, he takes just enough time to level the shot before releasing a second arrow at the target.
"Kissan. Stay alert for the invisible ones. Don't let them sneak past you!"
Hearing her master's concern, the cat crouches into the ready position and smells the air. Find hidden. Protect Hooman!
Kije dusts the area where moments ago two figures disappeared, bedazzling one of them, as well as the crab-monster.
The now-visible cultist frantically waves his hands around in front of his face.
The crab-monster waves its ginat pincers around in front of its face.
Edmund struggles without success to try to get an arrow on the figure back there casting a spell. As the spell is completed, a huge beast appears on the battlefield! Thick bony plates armor the domelike back of this quadrupedal dinosaur, its powerfully muscled tail ending in a bony club. The figure then flies up into the air above the creature and casts another spell.
The beast spots Edmund beyond the fissures in the earth and moves around them with unnatural speed to attack!
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ROUND 2! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
S
Kije
Edmund
CL
Izabela (Divine Favor)
GC
Rhosalith
Tiki (Barkskin)
Kiti
Enora