"Let's end this." Nat strides down to try and finish off the reeling kobold.
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The kobold leaps back, avoiding the rapier. Drawing a light pick the kobold brings it down on Nat's shoulder.
The pick digs into Nat's neck, reopening his wound as the halfling falls to the ground yet again.
Nat (0/15; Dying 2; Wounded 1)
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Dragon Shark Warrior (-4)
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Keznan (16/16)
Pawl (3/21)
Alec (21/21)
"Nat! Curses! Keznan raises his hand and a freezing ray burst forth towards the remaining kobold.
Meanwhile, the broom hops out of the sewer waters. With its bristles still dripping with gunk, it smashes down upon the reptilian's head.
Cursing as the rogue drops again, Alec prepares to hack the offending kobold in two when an icy beam of light streaks over his shoulder and drops the thing.
Kneeling by the rogue he hurls the mini-dragon things body off their rogue and checks him over, "Who has that med kit? I'm out of potions."
I don't have it," says Pawl who has only a +1 for Medicine.
Looking closely, Alec notices the medkit poking out of Nat's bag.
Keznan pulls the medkit out from Nat's bag, takes a deep breath and attempts to use it to patch his wounds. He makes a mess of things, however. Eventually, he gives up and whips out another vial to pour down the halfling's throat.
Pawl looks at the bag and thinks that he remembers how to apply a pressure bandage from his military training.
"Nat, I think I can do this. Just let me know if I get it too tight."
Pawl pulls out a bandage from the kit and applies it to Nat's wound.
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Keznan pours the last of his potions into Nat's mouth, reviving the wounded halfling yet again.
The Dragon Shark sorcerer keeps a small stash of goods just inside the cavern. The trove contains a scroll of illusory disguise, a well-worn hat of disguise that appears to have been repeatedly rumpled by a meaty fist (or maybe even a tentacle), and 8 sp.
The sorcerer also kept what she believed was a wizard’s spellbook but was in fact a waterlogged journal. The ink on many of the damp booklet’s pages has begun to smear, but the pages near the center are still fairly legible.
*****
...to ensure that my clients receive all the support they require. Many forget that Milani is not just a goddess of liberating the oppressed, but also of ensuring they’re not condemned to hardship once free.
Justerian—male human dockworker, about 40 years: I worry about Justerian. The slavers wore down his spirit as much as they did his body. He struggles to cope with his new life and fears his former masters might find him and shackle him again. He needs friends, and while I am glad to see he has steady employment, his living conditions are not healthy.
Remna—female dwarf scullery maid, about 40 years: With good reason, servitude has left her resentful of social elites. She’s ambitious, but I have tried to counsel her against association with some of Absalom’s more dangerous circles. Much as I do not like the rumors I’ve heard of her new role models, she is free now—including free to make her own decisions. I shall stay in touch should she need help.
Aedo—male halfling gardener, about 50 years: He has managed fairly well with the transition. Wealthy families who once secured his services for free were eager to hire him. I have provided him the silver needed for tools, and his business is thriving along the Petal District’s Rose Street.
Nelfurhin—female elf alchemist, age unknown: Formerly a scriptorium slave handling several households’ documents, Nelfurhin has found a welcome home at the Pathfinder Society. The Society is a good fit for her, particularly as the Grand Lodge continues to clean up some of its questionable practices.
Omoak—female half-orc personal assistant, about 25 years: She served Lady Eambria Tullian, who perished during the siege in Absalom’s defense and apparently willed Omoak a considerable sum for a decade of service. I’ve helped her locate and start up a grocery business.
*****
Among the names are Remna, the Bloody Barber recruit (from “Snippets”); Justerian, the dockhand who has taken shelter in the Puddles (from “Puddles”); and Nelfurhin Zor, the Pathfinder Society recruit whom the you seek.
Shortly after you finish wrapping up the last of the Dragon Shark kobolds, Fazgyn and the Sewer Dragons emerge from the southern cavern. The kobold trapmaster looks at the carnage. "We take care of scouts on the other side." He looks at Nat. "Looks like you had worst." The kobold smiles ear to ear. "Well done. I shall tell the Sewer Dragons of our success."
Nat (8/15; Wounded 2)
Keznan (16/16)
Pawl (3/21)
Alec (21/21)
Alec looks over the journal, "Well this is a fascinating tidbit of evidence isnt it?" furrowing his brow in consternation, "but I'm at a loss how it all fits together, any ideas?" he looks about the group, glad that Nat seems to be back on his feet.
"What now?"
"Oof. It appears, Fazgyn, that I need to practice your ways a bit more. That trap almost did me in, then that kobold almost did me in. Ow."
Keznan turns to the kobolds. Wagging his little finger at them, "Well, the Pathfinder Society has held up its end of the deal. You kobolds better do that, too! We need information on the disappearance of ex-slaves!"
"Maybe our captain can help us piece these things together a bit more. We have two names on this list that we don't know anything about. Maybe he can point us to them?"
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With a couple days worth of rest, which Nat wholeheartedly welcomes, you are once again summoned to see Ambrus Valsin. He rubs his hands through the hair as he looks tired. "With all of your information you gathered I have spent days going over your reports. It seems the victims of the Rose Street killer were all liberated slaves who were once hidden in the demolished and undead-infested ruins of the Precipice Quarter by the cleric of Milani who helped them escape. Even stranger, they all were harbored in the exact same safe house—the Sanguine Thorn" He slides you a letter with the address. "Travel to the Precipice Quarter to find the Sanguine Thorn and investigate what is happening."
"Anything but the sewers, boss."
"I see," Keznan mumbles. "Then it stands to reason that whoever is perpetuating this is also connected to this safehouse previously. Now that is strange - what would anyone have against those harbouring at just this particular place? A mystery to be solved indeed."
"Any way we can get some healing before we take off to the Precipice Quarter? Losing our cleric to an accident has left us lacking in that area, Captain."
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Ambrus Valsin looks at the group, gravely wounded and covered in filth. "Take a couple days, but don't dawdle." He says.
****
After your rest you head out at once for the Precipice Quarter. Through a shroud of heavy fog, the twisted silhouettes of ruined structures loom over the broken cobblestone path. What was once the corner of an intersection is now an imposing chasm. The mouth of the crater is large enough to have swallowed a colossal beast, but mist, detritus, and darkness obscure the bottom. Numerous shards of stone and debris jut out from the inner walls as if the cavernous hole is baring its teeth all the way down.
"Well, that looks pretty ominous. I don't see this Sanguin Thorn, though. Are we sure we have the right address?"
Pawl looks around where they are at in the Precipice Quarter.
"It should be around here. Anyone see it?"
"Well, I trust Captain Valsin would have given us the right address..."
"Oh, this looks lovely." Alec grumbles as he looks over the site.
Looking about, the bard points to the battered sign amongst the wreckage, "Looks like the right place, anyway."
Keznan studies what Alec has found. "Huh. That looks like the holy symbol of Milani, goddess of devotion, hope, and uprisings. The same goddess mentioned in that journal."
Nat looks around for something convenient to tie a rope off to. "Safety first."
Pawl remembers how the cleric fell to her death earlier, so he nods appreciatively at Nat for using the rope. "I'll go first in case there's something we have to fight down there unless anyone has a better plan."
He looks at the party and if there are no ideas, he begins to climb down the rope.
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Nat ties the rope off to the sturdy sign post in the ground, giving it a few tugs it seems as if it should hold fine. The rope make the effort near effortless.
Broken bedrock, hunks of wattle, and splintered lumber—all lightly dusted with sea salt—sink into the mud. The lurching profile of a bowed and broken structure stands here, its walls little more than rows of warped timbers, covered in withered vines, that converge at strange angles. The door on this side of the wall is missing from its frame.
After his experience in the sewers, Nat tries to take Fazgyn's advice to heart and immediately begins looking for traps.
"I'll focus on looking out for magical auras," Keznan whispers as he concentrates on the area around as the team slowly moves forward.
Pawl draws his sword.
"What in the bloody blazes is a crater doing here? Is this something left over from the Fiendflesh War?"
Pawl walks over to the steps and looks them over.
Alec moves behind Pawel, keeping an eye out for clues or anything dangerous.
"Watch it. Something magical resides near the western door." Keznan calls Smudge to stay close and looks expectedly at the rest to take the lead.
Keznan summons his magic and fires rays of frost at the vines.
Nat draws his rapier, preparing to cut away the vines, but stops as Keznan's magic beats him to the punch.
"Hm. My way would have been quieter." Nat mutters to himself as he sneaks up to the whole and glances in, being as stealthy as he can.
"There! Job well done even if I do say so myself."
Keznan, obviously not hearing anything, follows along, continuing to detect for magical auras.
"I agree with nat." grumbles the bard as he follows the fighter and rogue down into the hole, prepared to cast a light spell should it get too dark to see.
While they move he keeps a keen eye out for anything unusual.
Pawl moves forward, sword at the ready.
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This drinking hall’s wooden floors are decaying, and its furniture is in ruins, but more visible signs of death and rot are literally staring you in the face.
A small cluster of the walking dead awaits you. Most of them are relatively fresh, but one with scarcely any flesh clinging to bone stands in the back, armed and armored with a skull-decorated fly scrawled across its shield.
Even from here you can see a large crack in the side of its skull, and a corresponding weakness in its grip on the morningstar clutched in its bony fist.
The skeleton raises a hand and gravely points it to Pawl. A thin rasping voice emanates through the dank room. "Soon you will join the rest...."
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Skeleton
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Keznan (16/16)
Nat (15/15)
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Zombie
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Pawl (21/21)
Alec (21/21)
Nats ducks through his allies, drawing his dagger in his off hand as he goes, hoping to catch one of the zombies off-guard before it can react.
Keznan starts when the skeleton appears, and actually casts a spell! He quickly follows up with his own, bringing forth an animated broom!
Almost immediately, the broom starts smacking at the skeleton.
Pawl tries to save against the foul accursed unholy attack.
He groans as the unholy attack causes pain!
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The broom smacks against the skeletal champion's backside, spreading dust into the air. The dust doesn't seem to affect the undead at all as they don't breathe.
Nat steps in and pokes his rapier into the zombie. The wound seems to do some damage but the zombie doesn't even flinch from the pain and merely utters a groan.
The zombies shamble in as one slams their body at Nat.
+ Grab
The decayed hand wraps tightly around Nat as the zombie bites into Nat's exposed neck.
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Skeleton (-3)
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Keznan (16/16)
Nat (4/15)
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Zombie (Red -15)
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Pawl (18/21)
Alec (21/21)