The Decemvirate sends members of the Pathfinder Society to the former crown jewel of Ustalav's royal courts, the decaying city of Ardis. Tasked by the Society to look into the fate of Absalom's former Master of Blades, Vonran Vilk, what they find will lead to exploration, diplomacy, murder, haunted pasts, and tragic love. Can the PCs stop the rampage of the Midnight Mauler before he kills again?
"The Midnight Mauler" was originally an exclusive adventure, run only by 4-star Pathfinder Society GMs, Venture-Captain and Venture-Lieutenant campaign volunteers, and Paizo staff for its first year, but has been revised and updated for public release
Written by Crystal Frasier.
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”Come, Pig. It seems we are needed once again. What? No, I am positive they asked for both of us. Hrmmmm. You are not as irreplaceable as you think. No, they are not sending you to “Keep me in line.” What are you grunting about? Whatever, Pig.”
I wonder who else received this summons. sigh Yes, you will be the most supreme porcine ever sent to that back water as you call it. Yes, I have acorns for you. Yes, they are the ones you like. What? Yes, I went shopping. You don’t believe me? Well. That sounds like your problem.”
Grunt
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There is a large half-orc in full plate milling about. A highly stylized longsword, a sunburst surrounding the pommel, is emblazoned upon his breastplate. The same symbol can be seen upon his palm as well.
He appears to be slightly uncomfortable in his armor. He is constantly shifting and scratching beneath the armor. He can be overheard muttering, "Damned sand gets into everything...."
Strapped to his back is a wicked black greataxe. Even while in town, his hand never appears to stray too far from the hilt of the greataxe.
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A shortish, unassuming Keleshite human approaches, wearing a very new looking dagger on her hip (the sheath looks quite stiff actually) and a new-looking bow strapped to her back. She carries in her hand a large flag, with the symbol of Saranrae prominently displayed.
She speaks rather softly, introducing herself as Bel Canto. Though her voice is quiet, the tone of her speech is musical.
"I believe I might be able to help you with that, sir." . She smiles softly.
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The plate armored Half-Orc glances at the Halfling and nods while turning towards the Keleshite woman.
"Greetings my lady, I am known simply as Gresh. I am but recently returned from the deserts of Qadira and it seems that I cannot quite remove all the sand that gathered within my armor during that trip. I would be most grateful if you could assist in this matter."
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Grippli's cloak glows a bit as he smiles and raises his hand. His fingers make little rolling motions back and forth and tiny bubbles coalesce around Gresh from head to toe. A white foamy mass quickly encases the half-orc as the bubbles begin cleaning. Grippli's hands wave around in odd patterns directing the bubbles to "sensitive places". A nod punctuated by a grunt signals the cleaning is finished.
Grippli's arms raise and his eyes close. The room grows cooler as all of the moisture in the air gathers between the grippli's out stretched hands. "Grandfathers, wash away that which troubles our companion." The moisture erupts from his hands as a tiny downpour starts over Gresh, washing away the foamy soap.
"There you are, Gresh! Squeaky clean! If a bit wet. You will dry."
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A hooded Human with what looks like tusks on closer inspection slides into the room...clutching two swords at his waist, there is a slight jangling in his cloak.
He appraises the room, and notices the Grippli cleaning the Half-Orc...Mr Grippli, do you have a moment to wash my knob collection?" he asks with a quiet, husky drawl...he opens his cloak, you see a Big Brass Knocker; a ship captain's door handle; a cheap metal, gold coated, ornate rose-shaped doorknob and an overly gaudy but simple doorknob that upon closer inspection may or may not have belonged to brothel at some point..."They get dirty in my line of work you see.."
The Pathfinder Society’s Master of Blades, Marcos Farabellus, rarely assigns missions himself. Rarer still do those orders come directly from the Decemvirate.
“You bold few are in for a journey,” the towering wall of a man states. He rubs his beard for a few moments, as if physically searching it for the right words. “There’s a problem in Ustalav. An embarrassing one. Most of you have probably met Vonran Vilk, the old man who used to work in the library. He was the Master of Blades well before my time; the man lived more stories than you or I have even read. A few months back he returned to his homeland of Ustalav to write his memoirs for the Society. Something happened along the way. Now, a serial killer stalks Vilk’s hometown of Ardis, killing off all his old enemies. Under the full moon. I think you get the drift.
“Look. I’m not going to blow you a lot of smoke. Vilk defined what it meant to be a good man in his day. More importantly, he’s still got secrets buried up in that geriatric head of his that the Decemvirate doesn’t want spilled on the cobblestones by some superstitious Ardisian’s silver ax. Even worse, Ustalav sees the Pathfinder Society as a band of mercenaries and grave robbers. If anyone finds out that as prominent a Pathfinder as Vilk stalks their streets and murders their nobles as the man they’re calling the ‘Midnight Mauler,’ that might be enough excuse to have the entire Society expelled from Ardis’s borders without any debate.
“Ideally, you are to stop the murders without killing Vilk. But if push comes to shove, access to all the history of Ustalav outweighs any one man. Stop Vilk, whatever it takes. Our man in Ardis will meet you at the docks.”
Ardis used to be the capital of Ustalav, a varied nation of dark forests, high mountains, and superstitious locals.
Violence among Ardis’s peasants is nothing new—criminals, Sczarni, and wild animals claim common folk regularly. But this new killer, the Midnight Mauler, kills merchants and even nobles. No one is safe.
Swift, brutal attacks under the full moon? Everyone knows the Midnight Mauler is a werewolf, and anyone with sense has a silver knife or wolfsbane by now. Though the city guard won’t admit it, they spend the days before each full moon rounding up outsiders and expelling them from the city.
Over the past 4 months, the initial fear of the Midnight Mauler evolved into outrage. The last full moon saw a young Sczarni boy lynched, and the coming full moon will likely bring more mob violence.
They say a Pathfinder named Erudyta has been sniffing around the murder scenes. Pathfinders never take time away from their grave-robbing to investigate a murderer. It means something, but what?
Reports of lunar transformations and brutal maulings in Ardis point to lycanthropy. A werewolf likely bit Vilk on his journey to Ardis, and he now transforms under the full moon—typically 3 days every month.
Lycanthropes of all types shun silver, and silver weapons penetrate their unnaturally thick hides. The herb wolfsbane—also called aconite or monkshood—may cure a victim but is also poisonous and can kill a werewolf just as easily.
Having been bitten, Vilk is only a bearer of the curse of lycanthropy, and cannot infect others. Only those born with lycanthropy spread the disease to their victims.
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Lemford looks at his greataxe.
"Looks like I'm gonna need to get me some fancy pantsy silvery axe, if this is indeed a case of lycantropy, and not some other thing."
He strokes his mustache thoughtfully. "Cant never know, you know. Knew a guy in Katapesh with a trained tiger. Used it to maul guys that owed him money, you know. Nasty buisness that was."
Unsurprisingly, silver weapons are not hard to come by in Ardis.
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"Weapons? I don't really use weapons." She stares at the standard she carries in her left hand. "It's a bit difficult to do much more than twirl my flag, most of the time. I find it's more efficient for me to help you all be better at your jobs, than attempt to use actual weapons. And Gresh, it's 'don't need ANY stinkin' silver.'"
Second Local (which hadn't been rolled on yet)
Nature, if you'd rather:
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Gresh turns toward Bel Canto, ”My lady, I believe I meant what I said...”
He then drops to one knee, places his hands upon the great axes pommel and bows his head, ”I swear in the light of Iomedae, before our comrades in arms and by the strength of Peacekeeper, that I will protect you from harm and rid Golarion of this werewolf infestation.”
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"Hmmm, I will need to get some silver too, we will organise it once we're there I'm sure..." Neal says, as he pats his two short swords,
"And maybe I should leave these doorknobs behind, I have a feeling they'll make a lot of noise." he talks to himself out loud, not caring if the others hear his musings.
An excited young man strains for a view from behind a row of dull, bored, gray-clad observers on the docks of Ardis’s modest harbor. His face beams with equal parts excitement and relief as the gangplank drops.
“Well met, my brothers and sisters,” the young man says. “Thank you for coming so quickly! I am Ryado Erudyta.” Despite his youth, Ryado approaches with a limp in his left leg. “I have a coach waiting to take us back to the safe house. We can speak more freely away from these crowds.”
The rented cab is small but well appointed, and after a moment of securing the luggage, Erudyta continues. “By now you must have heard of the unfortunate circumstances of Master Vilk’s… condition. I ran into him by chance six weeks ago at the library of a mutual friend. I was researching the Dracora family’s lineage, but that’s neither here nor there.” He glances out the window, peering at the long, orange shadows cast by the late afternoon sun. “To my shame, I didn’t put all the clues together until the most recent round of murders, but now I see it all… Vilk’s overland journey into Ustalav under cover of darkness, the low profile he maintains, and the identities of the seemingly random victims.” He shakes his head, showing more years than his rosy cheeks would suggest. “I wish I could stop him myself, but fighting a werewolf would’ve been well beyond my skills even before the 6 ghouls got to me.” He knocks gently on his left leg.
“The full moon starts tonight, along with Vilk’s next round of murders. I beg you to cure our wayward master if at all possible. You’ll find curative magics scarce in Ardis, but I believe a powerful dose of wolfsbane may reverse his condition, should he survive it. There might even be enough humanity left in his bestial soul to reason with. The guards grow wise to the beast, and the locals are on edge as well—if the guards or an angry mob beat us to Vilk, the Society’s relationship to the Midnight Mauler will be exposed. We can’t let that happen. One way or another, Vilk’s rampage must end tonight.”
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"Ryado" Neal starts with a serious, grim face, after finally pulling the cloak down off his head, "Do you believe he was a werewolf before coming back to Ustalav?"
"Also, how are we sure that it's him? What are the identities of the victims?" Neal asks, deep in thought, rubbing a hand over the cold-iron sword at his belt.
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”First off, Master Erudyta, my comrades and I appreciate your help and discretion in this matter. I have a few questions that I hope will allow us to resolve the matter at hand quickly and quietly. My first question is; do you know where Master Vilk resided during these past weeks? Perhaps there are clues there that would shed light on his current whereabouts.” Gresh asks the young master.
He pauses for a moment, in thought, before asking, ”Secondly, you claim that wolfsbane may cure Master Vilk of his affliction. My comrades and I are not familiar with the merchants here in Ustalav that might sell such a rare item. Where might we obtain the wolfsbane, locally, in the amount needed to cure Master Vilk?”
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Pig is still emitting what can be described, favorably, as "laughter" after Gresh's "valuable asset" remark.
"Ryado Erudyta... that is a very nice name. Is that Varisian?"
"You had mentioned researching a family... who was it... Dracora! Yes, that is it. That is also a very pretty name. Though, my last encounter with a dragon left me almost a member of the Celestial Choir. I do not wish to meet such a beast again. I digress; who is this family Dracora and what about their family did you find engrossing?"
"Master Shadowhand, while most of the evidence is circumstantial, it is clear that something has happened to Master Vilk. He has even started to look more vital since he arrived in Ardis, by all reports." explains Ryado.
"There have been fourteen murders over the past four months. He began with Wanda Oteski, the granddaughter of one of Vilk’s old adventuring rivals. Afterward he slew an elderly merchant and his son who bore witness at Vilk’s trial. The next month saw the death of an elven information broker; apparently she directed Vilk and his band to that ill-fated tomb. The list goes on, but all of them bear some connection to Vilk.”
He turns to respond to Gresh. “Alas, wolfsbane has become difficult to come by. The locals know lycanthrope attacks when they see them, and the local shops sell out as soon as it arrives. You may have better luck tracking it than I, though.“
"Tracking down Master Vilk is a little more difficult. I spent six weeks trying to track him down without any luck; too many of his records were simply wiped clean after his exile. If anyone in Ardis knows Vilk well enough to predict his actions, it would be his ex-lover: a half-elf courtesan named Markov Rutowski. Despite the urban decay, Ardis’s courtesans remain well insulated, and I lack the influence to even gain an audience with him. I understand Vilk’s exile was something of a black mark on Rutowski’s own career, and it likely remains a sensitive topic.”
He then waits for a response or further questions.
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"Thank you Master Erudyta for the information. Perhaps I am not understanding the current situation fully. As I understand the situation, it is believed, by you and others, that Master Vilk, former Master of Blades to the Pathfinder Society, is currently a werewolf. It also believed that he is slaying those that have apparently wronged him, in some way, in the past.... We are here to help stop him from continuing to murder and hopefully cure him of his affliction."
Gresh frowns saying, "I believe my confusion is that you mentioned that Master Vilk has or had been exiled. I presume you mean he has been exiled from Ustalav? If so, why was he exiled? Is it commonly known that Master Vilk is a werewolf? Is being a werewolf what he was on trial for? Or are all these events you have mentioned; exile, trial and the ill-fated tomb adventure all in the distant past or have these events occurred after his return to Ardis four months ago?"
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Bel tries to look less green, after spending time on a boat she wasn't warned about. Boats, why is it always boats with these people?
"I am also curious as to what trial you are referring; we were uninformed he had ever been on trial. Is there more history about Master Vilk about which we have been ill-informed?
"I am also curious as to where and when specifically these victims did harm to Vilk, whether actual or perceived. Have their deaths been in order based on this? Who among his enemies are left?
"You say you don't have the influence to see this courtesan, but perhaps there is a way for our band to get in? Perhaps he is getting bored, and could do with a song?"
"The banishment happened long before I was born, back before he joined the Pathfinder Society. I don’t know many of the details; most of the records have been destroyed or moved to Caliphas over the past fifty years. Rumor has it he lost four fellow adventurers looting a noble family’s tomb. The family has since relocated, or else I’d say they’re our prime target. I know nothing else about the trial or the parties involved. Not many remain in Ardis with memories that long.
"As for his being turned into a werewolf, I believe that happened recently, on his voyage back to Ardis. I do not have any details, and if true, few would know about it, yet. This knowledge is what we are trying to prevent getting out.
"I’m concerned, I suppose, for Master Vilk and the Society. When Vilk was Master of Blades, he trained my aunt when she was being inducted into the Pathfinder Society, and he encouraged my own studies in my younger years. He’s almost like family, in a way, though I never knew about his past or banishment until I began investigating these murders.”
He looks to Bel, and says, "I hold no sway over Markov Rutowski, so you will have to make your own way to speak with him. However, he is well known, as are his courtesans, so you should have no trouble finding him."
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"Thank you for all the information, however you mentioned a list of 14 murders in 4 months," Neal pauses, deep in thought, a slightly visible look of pain on his face at having to do this,
"Do we have any idea who else in Ardis has crossed him or been involved in his life in someway? It would make it easier if we could maybe protect someone and draw him out!"
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”Thank you again Master Erudyta for the information and your service. As my comrade said, it would prove most helpful if we could locate his next target. Though, I suppose, if you had that information we probably would be headed there now....”
”If anyone would have information concerning Master Vilk’s past associations that would his ex-lover, Markov Rutowski. I assume you can bring us to his establishment... Unless you had somewhere else in mind.”
The carriage arrives outside the Ardis safe house as the you finish asking their questions, and Erudyta invites them all in to rest for a few hours, but urges them to start before the moon rises. The safe house itself offers few amenities, being more a museum and office than a home.
It is clear by the time that you arrive that he has told you everything he knows, and is quite concerned about the former Master of Swords.
"I am sure that you can buy any number of silvered weapons in the markets." replies Erudyta. "For some reason they tend to be pretty popular around here. I would recommend a silvered light mace instead, however, as they tend not to be affected by a silver weapon's tendancy to lose an edge."
"Oh, it was just a commission I was working on. The only reason I brought it up was that I saw Master Vilk at the library while I was doing the research. He did mention getting attacked after he crossed over the West Sellen River into Ustalav, somewhere in Varno near the Forest of Veils. His wounds had long since healed when I talked with him."
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"While I could use something to eat, the time spent on the boat has left me a little off the idea of eating right now. If you could give me a little time to freshen up, I would be interested in visiting the courtesans too.
"No, Mr. Grippli, I can freshen up myself." She waves off the little shaman as she can see the gleam in his eye as he prepares to help her.
[ooc]Note: Bel & Gresh haven't entered in their macros on slides 2&3, else I would roll. I thought Lemford might have a bonus on all knowledge checks, but didn't see nobility on his list.