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Each of you received the following missive from the Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch.
Greetings Friends,
For some time I have been making diplomatic inroads into Kaer Maga, the so-called City of Strangers. The Society would love to gain access to the many vaults carved beneath the city long ago. However, because of the danger of the vaults, the group in charge of protecting them—the Duskwardens—rarely allows anyone to stray from their carefully patrolled paths. The Duskwardens seemed willing to consider allowing Pathfinders to venture beyond their protection, but only if we were acting on behalf of one of the city’s major factions with their endorsement. They want us to prove that we are willing to work as partners to a faction and that we will not upset the city’s existing balance of power.
After receiving the Duskwarden’s reply, I reached out to the leaders of several of the city’s largest factions with evidence of our agents’ skill and goodwill. Most of the responses I received were noncommittal. However, Horus Ilaktya took a greater interest. Illyakta is the de facto leader of the Ankar-Te District. He has asked me to send a group of agents to investigate a recent event that has caused property damage in his district.
A word of caution—very few in Kaer Maga are beacons of morality. In Ankar-Te, necromancy is respected, and people openly walk the streets with their undead servants. Horus is the owner of a shop called the Last Rites, the district’s largest purveyor of mindless undead, or, as they locals euphemistically call them, Twice-Born. Horus lives by his own code, a code that should make it safe for you to interact with him as long as you don’t interfere with his merchandise. He doesn’t kill people, and he only uses corpses that he purchases from the families of the deceased. In keeping with his faith in Urgathoa, he sees these “rebirths” as a gift, and is unlikely to react well to any suggestions to the contrary.
I understand some of you may find his occupation and methods distasteful, but please keep the larger mission in mind and avoid causing any diplomatic incidents.
Sincerely,
Sheila Heidmarch
A small map of Kaer Maga is folded along with the letter, with the location of Horus Ilaktya’s store in Ankar-Te clearly marked. Once you have read the letter, you have a day to make purchases before receiving transport to Kaer Maga via a teleport spell. You find yourselves just outside Kaer Maga’s walls, atop the plateau that allows the city to tower over the surrounding landscape.
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A towering, tattooed grey-black half-orc warrior, bedecked in mithril and with bleached dreadlocks tucked under a shapeless hat, stands next to a large hippopotamus. The hippo wears studded leather barding with a fine cloak and a grim amulet. The odd duo gaze at the city below.
"Kiboko has had his fill of corrupt cities Mvumbu. At least with this one the inhabitants are more honest about their corruption. Kiboko has destroyed many undead; he does not consider them 'Twice Born.' Kiboko has yet to meet an undead that did not try to kill us, curse us, or devour us! What strange tasks the Pathfinder Society places before us..."
"Haaaaarrrr!" agrees Mvumbu the Wise and Beautiful. In the depths of her animal mind a dim and unpleasant memory stirs. It is a memory of a time before she and Kiboko left the jungle, a memory of a dark cave, a terrible battle with the walking dead, and a grievous wound...
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 so some undead will not be a problem, right???!! 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.
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Ingrge hides a frown as the Venture-Captain mentions the undead...there's a reason why they're his most disliked enemy...but he'll try to keep an even keel while he's around them...
The half-Elf brightens upon seeing the half-Orc and hippo. "Kiboko! It's good to know I'll share this journey with you...and Mvumbu, wisest and most beautiful of all creatures! 'Tis a pleasure to see you again as well...
"I'm sure Flyn will be sorry to have missed you two yet again...I was again sent as a replacement as he has not returned from the cursed isle as expected...the Lodge is concerned 'bout that expedition..."
”Ingrge, I know this name! Didn’t you win the Sargava Chalice for the Society?! Great achievement!!“ Enora says with a big smile!
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"Ah, Sargava! Kikoko did not know that you had travelled in the Expanse, friend Ingrge. Have you met the Ekujae? A most secretive people, but great allies to those that they trust. Kiboko is blessed to receive a sacred tattoo from the Ekujae."
Kiboko gestures to a facial tattoo clearly very different in style to those more often seen on half-orcs.
"Enora. Kiboko greets you."
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A robed human walks in. He is wrapped in bandages scented to try to hide the medicinal smell coming from them. He carries himself with an air of importance. "You will, of course, pardon my tardiness. It has been too long since I was last in the Kaer Maga and I became.... distracted along the way here." Only then does he really look upon his companions. To Enora he says, "You seem learned or at least fairly well dressed. Tell me, what is our goal this day?"
”Greetings to you as well Kiboko and Traber! I have never been to the Mwangi... maybe some day!“ she says smiling.
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After a quick introductions among yourselves, the Pathfinder make their way towards the city. On their way, you pass through an open-air meat market called Meatgate, where poor farmers sell their wares for affordable prices. Just past Meatgate, you reach the Gap, a massive hole
in Kaer Maga’s walls. Here, all manner of guides, porters, and runners are gathered, sizing up all new arrivals, likely in hopes of turning a quick profit. As soon as they spot these new visitors to the city, a number of them approach, offering to show you the sites of the city, including the best places to find food, entertainment, and rest. Finally, one of them pushes himself forward self-confidently. He stands tall and has a skinny build. He has a square, slightly average looking face., framed cropped, wavy, black hair. "My name's Oliver Lunadream. You won't find a better guide to show you around Kaer Maga. Now, now, you are probably thinking why you should spend your hard-earned gold when you can wander around the city yourself? Well, if you really know of the city, then you know what a chaotic place it would be! I can tell time is precious for you, so why begrudge..." he pauses briefly to size you up again then continues, "10 gold pieces? Better than wasting your whole day wandering lost, I say!"
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Scampering up through the crowd, bumping into a few people with a hasty "Oop!" and followed quickly by a "Pardon me," and finally a loud "OOF! Oh, dear, that's awkward."
Suddenly a heavily armored halfling shoulders his way in between the half elf and half orc. Oddly enough, the halfling's armored helm is only a few inches shy of the tall half-orc's shoulder. Odd that is, until the group notices the sleek, silver furred dog the halfling is riding.
"Pardon me folks. Apologies for being late, It seems when I read my letter I thought I had two days before being teleported. I'll never hear the end of that from Valsin I'm sure." he laughs nervously.
"Oh, Pooka Bladespinner, at your service. This here is Luna." Pooka indicates his canine mount by scratching behind her ears.
"Right then, I'm interrupting some business. *cough* I'll ah, just wait for a moment. Seems as though we can catch up on the way, right? And Hey! Oliver you say? I like your last name. I think we will get along great, I do hope you take my friend's deal here. It must be fate really, my dog being named Luna, and your surname being so similar." The halfling flashes a big smile, his face flushed from his recent urgency at catching up to the other pathfinders.
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Underneath Pooka, Luna's body shifts back and forth to the rhythm of her tail. The chain barding clinks and slides with the motion, and her muzzle lifts into the air. Her nose works overtime, sniffing the myriad of smells around her until she fixates on one in particular.
This is a new smell. The jungle smell is definitely coming from the half-orc, if my memory on races is correct, but there is another jungle smell. Wet like river water. Very subtle difference between river water and lake water and pond water and puddle water, the last one being my favorite.
Oh, that's a big dog. Is that a dog with no hair? How is her hair supposed to stand up tall like mine is doing right now?
Luna's hackles push on the chain barding and poke through some of the links, but her tail never stops wagging. Her ears perk up tall for a brief moment before drooping down while she continues to sniff the air.
Turning her head to the side a little bit further, she finally makes eye contact with Mvumbu, and her tail begins to wag so hard that the body wag starts to rattle Pooka's armor.
Like a good dog though, she waits obediently for Pooka to introduce her.
”Oh so great to meet another Halfling! And Pooka you have a lovely dog and seem to be soo brave and strong! Great!“ Enora says and comes forward to hug Pooka.
When she sees the guide appearing she also steps forward.
”I have no idea about the pricing but I want to be sure you are loyal and are not guiding us to the next talisman shop for your own profit. So what are your credentials?!“ Enora demands.
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Mvumbu the Wise and Beautiful sniffs at the little doggie.
"Haaarrrr?"
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A tall, slender, fashionably-dressed human with sandy blond hair and a wayfinder hanging from a chain against his chest turns a corner, spots the rest of the adventurous-looking types, waves, and walks over to meet the group. A sleek mithril chain shirt covers his torso beneath a nice black doublet, a spell component pouch is at his waist, and two black leather bandoliers brimming with wands and scrolls are crisscrossed on his chest. What’s most striking though is the small serpentine creature that swims elegantly through the air around the man’s head almost as if it were a wisp of smoke, a glowing rune on the creature’s forehead matching the one on the man’s.
”Well met, fellow Pathfinders. This is Severin and I’m Nicolas.” Nicolas looks at the skinny man who’s obviously not a Pathfinder, and says, ”Something tells me you’re not our man Horus Ilaktya.”
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"Madame, Monsier," Oliver replies in a faux-Galtan accent, "You wound me with your counter-offer! Lunadream, yes a most unfortunate, is without doubt the best guide you can find in this city. The rest of them can attest!" He waves his hand at the other guides, but most of them have already wandered off. "Come, come, you are mighty adventurers! What is a measly 10 gold pieces to you? Payment upfront." Oliver glances at Kiboko with one raised eyebrow, but decides not to answer, whether out of confusion or fear, it is hard to say. Instead he replies to Nicolas, "Horus? The stick of a man who runs Last Rites? Why I could take you right to him this very moment!"
”Here is your payment! Lead the way!“ Enora says with some doubt.
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Oliver gives the Pathfinders a bow with a flourish, turns towards the Gap and gestures you to follow. On the other side of the Gap, you enter what Oliver introduces as the Warren district. "Please don't judge Kaer Maga by what you see here, for this is the poorest part of the city. The district's name comes from the maze of makeshift shanties and haphazard constructions that its residents have cobbled together with limited resources. Anyone who is willing to put the work in to help the community survive is welcome, from humans and halflings to goblins, orcs, and wererats." Along the way, the residents pay little attention to you, and many give a friendly wave to Oliver. It seems that he is rather well-known hereabouts.
The transition between the Warren and the rest of the city is stark. Everywhere else, Kaer Maga's thick walls are in good repair. All of the city’s districts except the Warren are situated in a multilevel complex of massive, vaulted chambers, cast in perpetual twilight lit by a kaleidoscope of shimmering lamps. Soon. you arrive at the district of Ankar-Te. "Even by the standards of Kaer Maga as a whole, Ankar-Te is a district known for accepting all manner of beliefs and philosophies that rarely appear in polite society. That would be a good example." Oliver gestures to a number of mindless
undead servants that are a common sight in its streets. "You smell that a perpetual incense? It's meant to cover the odor emanating from the flesh of the working zombie hordes, but if you ask me, it does a poor job." Eventually, Oliver delivers you to the Last Rites. "I'll wait here, since I believe you have private business to discuss?" He gives you a wry grin. "Don't worry, I won't bolt. You've paid upfront, so you've got me for the whole day."
The interior of the shop named Last Rites has far from the somber appearance its name suggests. Fresh-cut flowers stand in vases throughout the room, filling the air with a pleasant fragrance. The walls are painted light green, and multiple still life paintings hang in gilded frames from the walls.
A tall, thin, middle-aged man stands near a long marble table in the center of the room. He smiles and gestures at the finely crafted mahogany chairs around the table before settling himself into the one at the end. He then picks up a tiny bell and rings it. At the far end of the room, a door opens and a figure dressed as a servant enters, carrying a tray. The figure’s movements are stiff and its eyes stare straight ahead as it sets a tray with a decanter of deep red wine and several glasses down gently. The creature then turns and leaves the room.
is an unusually well-preserved zombie.
"Pathfinders!" says the man at the table, as he offers the wine. "How pleasant that you could come. I am Horus Ilaktya, owner of this establishment and a leader of the Ankar-Te district. Your Venture-Captain—that is the correct term, yes?—Sheila Heidmarch promised to send some of her most capable agents. I am sure I will be pleased with what you have to offer. But on to business."
"I would like you to investigate a problem in my district. Just the other day I began to hear reports of property damage in the district, but I have not had time to investigate these reports myself. Since I knew I had Pathfinders on the way, I thought I'd leave it up to you to determine the cause of this damage and eliminate any threat to Ankar-Te’s wellbeing, even should it take you beneath the city and into the vaults."
"See what you can find in the streets. I’d also recommend talking to the Augurs. Their command of prophecy is quite impressive. When you have dealt with the threat, return to me and we will discuss your findings."
”Ohh Horus ... greetings to you! I have to admit that this is a very special mission that we as Pathfinders are on! And undead usually are our opponents but here they obviously are servants which some of my colleagues surely will need to adapt to! We will of course investigate this matter of property damage in the district. But please tell us if you know anything that the buildings that were damaged had in common ... like the kind of residents or the date of their creation or the location per se? Anything? And were people hurt as well?! Oh wait a minute ... I thought about buildings but please don’t tell me that undead ‘property’ was damaged and we shall investigate that?!?“
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Traber suffers the proximity of the unwashed folk in the Warrens and is only too happy to pass into the Ankar-Te district. He is familiar with Kaer-Maga and the districts particular eccentricities are no surprise to him. Traber had never been to the Last Rites before and seemed content that it was of an appropriate status for him.
"Property damage? How terrible. We shall root out these hooligans and inform them of the poor decisions that they have made."
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They'd have Kiboko judge them less harshly for keeping their poor in a ghetto! Kiboko likes this city no better than any other.
"Yes, tell us what manner of property has been damaged." Kiboko cares not if these wretches have lost their pet zombies. Kiboko will investigate the vaults as the Venture Captain requested.
"Moooaaarggghhh!!!!" bellows Mvumbu in disgust at the barely disguised stench of rot that pervades Ankar-Te. It is fortunate that she is too large to enter Last Rites, and Kiboko pacifies her with a whetbone to chew on.
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"No, no, no damage reported of the undead servants. Just buildings. But I've heard multiple stories. Some of them claim entire buildings have collapsed, while others say it was only a few walls. All in all, they appear rather random. Anyway, I'm not asking you to make a full appraisal of the extent of the damage. I don't need your expertise for that. Focus your efforts on making sure it doesn't happen again."
With no further questions, the Pathfinders take their leave. As promised, Oliver is patiently waiting outside, chatting briefly with various passersby. He really does seem to be a social butterfly. Seeing you exit, he bids farewell to a young lady carrying laundry to the wash and turns to you. "Where to next, my esteemed travellors?"
Enora looks at Oliver and then at the group.
”I would like to first gather some information in the affected areas! Then we need to see how to continue!“ she says.
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Pooka snaps his journal shut, having jotted down enough notes for now, cross referencing them in his mind with the warnings about dealing with Horus. Just don't lose sight that all he cares about is what he cares about...
Guiding Luna back outside, Pooka stands next to his mount and takes in the bustling scene around him. He remains wary of Oliver, but strangely enough, equally glad for his services.
"Once we have seen the area and buildings that have been damaged, we should take Horus' suggestion and speak with the Augurs. But first things first." Pooka smiles, agreeing with the groups assessment and moving out with the group.
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"Certainly, my kind sirs. And um, companions." Oliver gives the party and deep bow, and leads you first to the Warrens, then to various areas in the city which had seen disturbances. Most of the city folk stare at you suspiciously despite Oliver's best efforts and give you strangers a wide berth. A few who are willing to speak with you do not have anything useful to share. Three particular commoners though had the following to share.
First at the Warren, Oliver greets an old female halfling warmly. She is dressed mostly in rags but her shawl, which she clutches tightly, is uncharacteristically well-made. She was carrying a large bag of laundry, but stops to talk with you. Oliver whispers to you that she leaves on the streets and works odd jobs to make ends meet, and so might have seen something. "I saw a hooded dead figure dash off toward the Halflight Path with a couple of undead servants in tow shortly after some kind of commotion in the Ankar-Te district. I'm not sure what kind they were, but I've been in Ankar-Te enough times to
know a dead creature shuffling around. They moved kinda stiff-like,
and they might have been wrapped in rags."
In Oriat the entertainment centre, a dirty young elven girl barely in her teens squats at a corner begging for coppers. With a few coins, Oliver got her to talk. "Um, a few days ago, down by Cavalcade, I saw something strange." She pauses here, uncertain whether to continue, but you urge her on. "I saw this strange black pool of ... something. I didn't really care about it at first but I got bored cos everyone was ignoring with the drizzle and what not. So I went over and wanted to poke at it, you know cos you know, I was bored. Then it moved! It kind of like... flowed away into the nearby sewer grates. I know, I sound crazy! But I swear! That's what I saw!"
In Downmarket, the commercial district, you encounter Chanstone, a young male half-elf, whom Oliver shares is a runner of messages for various groups and businessmen throughout the city. The half-elf claims hooded figures have been in town for several days asking about a sculpture of an eight-pointed star of a dark stone. "They also kept asking how to gain access to the vaults below. Ever since they came through town, people have been nervous about going out at night! They're just damn creepy!" After a moment, he adds, "I think they had something to do with Kelgren Noc's muder. They were snooping around his place the day before."
"Looking for a troll augur, eh? They are not easy to find, and even then, aren't particularly friendly to strangers," Oliver shares with you. "But hey, it's your lucky day, for you've got me with you!"
With the whole team asking around and with Oliver's guidance, it is a scant 15 min when you encounter one. "That's Nuregore." Oliver points you to a towering female troll walking down the street. "Come!" The Pathfinders quickly run ahead to catch her to her with her long strides. When she spots the group coming up to her, she frowns but as soon as she recognises Oliver, she softens. With a somewhat gravelly voice, she addresses him. "Ah Oliver, you've got another group of tourists with you today? Showing them the sights of the city? I told you many times that we troll augurs are not tourist attractions!" Despite her scolding, it is clearly friendly banter.
"No, no, Mistress Nuregore. This adventurers are seeking your assistance. You see, they are investigating the recent disturbances across the city, and would like to request for your powerful divination to guide them."
Nuregone turns to the party, harrumphs as she crosses her arms. "My services don't come cheap. What do you want to know? And what have you already found out?"
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"Mistress Nuregore, thank you for taking time from your day to grace us with your consideration. So far, after speaking to several perceptive citizens in the district, we have gathered several small bits of information that we have yet to make sense of as clues. Mysterious strangers lurking about before a death and asking questions best not asked. Sightings of unusual phenomenon and liquids moving of its own volition. One kind lady spoke of undead behaving abnormally in the aftermath of one of the destruction events."
"Will you be so kind as to help us in this mystery? If money is required, we can pay. But if the price is something other than gold, then we will do our utmost to supply it instead."
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Kiboko grimaces (hard to tell, given his large tusks), looking from the bandage-wrapped self-styled noble Pathfinder to the matronly troll diviner and back again.
Must we work with undead AND trolls today? The last troll Kiboko encountered near killed three-quarters of our group.
"You forgot about the hooded figures asking after a sculpture of an eight-pointed star and access to the Vaults Below." adds Kiboko, trying to be helpful whilst disguising his discomfort.
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Luna strains against her lead, pulling on it as often as she sidles close to Pooka, bumping him as they walk. The conglomeration of smells assaults her nose, and her reactionary system is on overdrive. It takes all of her restraint not to growl at every passing undead or other denizen that would normally find itself on the business end of her teeth and Pooka's lance.
Pooka's firm but gentle hand covers her muzzle, reminding her that she must have been growling again as they approach the troll. The growl morphs into a low, rumbly yowl that rises and lowers in pitch. Luna plops her hindquarters down and slowly stretches her front legs out, reluctantly laying down while she waits for the pathfinders to talk.
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"I get the impression that we are in a race to find something, except we don't really know who we are racing against." Pooka adds his thoughts, then wonders immediately if throwing out guesses will cloud the matter or help.
"Figuring out who and why is key, but I'm guessing if we at least knew where, we would be much further along. The big question," Pooka turns to the Augur, "Is regarding the recent damage, and what we can do to stop it. I'm certain this is all related. Pardon my forwardness if you already knew, I just wanted to make sure you had the right context." Pooka bows his head politely.
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Nuregore nods in approval as the Pathfinders share what they already have. "Seems you have already done quite a bit of legwork. This would make my work easier. A divination like this would normally cost you 20 gold pieces, but I like you. So it would cost you 10 instead. Come." Without another word, she turns, expecting you lot to follow. She guides you to a door in a forgotten alley a short walk away. The house looks no different outside that other houses until you realise the door is built for someone significantly taller than usual, or for a troll. Inside, the house is simple, but with furniture similarly built for one of larger size. She then guides you to a dark room with no windows, allowing only dim light to shine in from other rooms. The room is largely bare, with some simple cushions on the floor, and mysterious herbs in various bowls in one corner of the room.
"I can tell you something of where you should go," says the troll, who then kneels on the ground, draws a long knife from her belt and, with a powerful swipe, slices the blade across her belly. She carefully reaches inside her abdomen and draws forth her glistening internal organs, lifting them to her eye level. She does not respond to the powerful odor that wells forth, and instead studies her intestines intently. The troll frowns and her eyes narrow. She sets her knife and intestines on the ground then reaches deeper into her abdomen, finally drawing out her stomach. She palpates it gently as if feeling for something. "The walls are weak and it crumbles easily, the place you seek. A place beneath and below, yet there is much light. A rumbling groan originates from her stomach, the gurgle startlingly loud. Nuregore raises her eyebrows and looks at the group. "It falls apart. Beware."
With careful skill, Nuregore shoves her innards back and presses the skin together. Her greenish hide knits together quickly and she stands. "Those are the visions I see. I need to rest now. Please leave."
”That was truly disgusting and disturbing. But thank you!“
She turn to her companions. ”Sorry if I missed something but what is the Halflight Path that was mentioned by the people we met earlier?“
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"The Halflight Path you say?" Oliver pipes up. "That's the underground passage leading from the bottom of the cliff up to the surface of Kaer Maga, part of the Undercity. It's a shortcut used by those who value speed over safety. And costs of course, for the Duskwardens charge a hefty fee for escorting caravans through the Path."
Enora thinks for a moment.
”This troll‘s vision sounded like it was also on the dark somewhere beneath the earth. So we could ask the Duskwardens if they have seen something that sounds similar to her vision!“
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Pooka looks on, stunned by the manner in which the troll completes her divinations. The part of him that gets past the disgusting display is actually quite impressed. That's one way to take advantage of legendary troll regeneration... he shrugs.
"Thank you, your services were worth every gold piece." he tries to show his gratitude the best way he knows how, including keeping Luna back from that tasty looking liver...
Pulling out his pathfinder journal, he jots down what he has heard. "Memory isn't so great..." he says, answering an unasked question from his companions.
The walls are weak and it crumbles easily, the place you seek. A place beneath and below, yet there is much light. It falls apart. Beware.
"Enora is right I think, the Halflight path and the Duskwardens seem to be our next best clue." Pooka absentmindedly scratches behind Luna's ear, getting ready to move out and leave the troll augur to her recovery.
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With the next destination decided, Oliver leads the Pathfinders to the Duskwarden’s Guildhouse in the Bis district. The multilevel structure within the rest of Kaer Maga’s walls has collapsed in Bis, leaving only the walls and the highest ceiling. Buttressed platforms soar off the sides of the walls, each holding a small collection of homes and businesses. A hodgepodge network of pulley-drawn elevators provides transportation between the platforms.
The Guildhouse itself is a squat and solid structure with a placard bearing the group’s twisted-arch insignia in blue and gold. The mention of being on a mission from Horus Ilaktya's gains entrance. The Duskwarden guards escort you inside the hall to a small office where a female half-elf Duskwarden is going through some paperwork.
"Oliver, it's good to see you." The Duskwarden looks at the rest of you, and continues, "These travelers looking for an escort through the Halflight Path?"
"Talbren, I see you're doing well. Ah, no, these are Pathfinders, on a mission from Horus Ilaktya with regards to the Undercity. I best let them explain," Oliver replies.
"I see. We're always glad to have competent help around here. Things have definitely seemed more riled up than usual down by the Undercity," Talbren says. "How can I help, Pathfinders?"
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"Kiboko greets you, Duskwardens. Horus Ilaktya has charged us with investigating a crime spree affecting his district. We hear rumours of cloaked figures seeking the vaults below, undead heading into the Halflight Path; and an Augur has pronounced that the place we seek has weak crumbling walls and much light even though it be below us. Does any of this make sense to you?"