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The world-renowned Blakros Museum has outdone itself, gathering an unrivaled collection of relics from the Shining Crusade, a holy coalition that felled the greatest lich to threaten Golarion. When trouble befalls the exhibit mere days before its debut, the Pathfinders intervene, only to discover that one of the relics is key to averting a far greater disaster that has laid in wait for a millennium.
The story continues, first taking the Pathfinder Society to Lastwall's tangled Fangwood to earn the favor of a powerful celestial being and destroy a sinister curse. The PCs then return to the Solstice Scar itself for one final confrontation with the evil that dwells beyond—and a chance to end her villainy for good!
"The Solstice Scar" is a multi-table interactive adventure in which each group's actions can affect neighboring groups and contribute to the entire room's success. This is the last installment of an ongoing adventure updated and rereleased incrementally several times since May 2017, collectively telling a longer story while also presenting exciting stand-alone chapters. Based on participant feedback, this final chapter features two slightly longer parts rather than three, providing a more focused and exciting experience.
Written by Kalervo Oikarinen
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When the Shining Crusade defeated the dread lich Tar-Baphon in 3827 AR, the lich’s lieutenants scattered, hoping to evade the crusade’s triumphant armies. Eshimka, one of the nightwalkers serving Tar-Baphon, fled north to hide and build up its power.
Ivvora, a disciple of the divine martyr Vildeis, tracked the evil creature into the Tusk Mountains. There she contacted a nearby tribe of Kellids known as the Twinhorn following, and together, they formed a plan to destroy the nightwalker.
On the winter solstice, they lured Eshimka to a circle of standing stones where the Twinhorn druids used their powerful magic to bind the nightwalker. Ivvora leapt from the shadows and attacked, burying her sacred dagger deep into Eshimka’s flesh before the blade snapped off near the hilt. Try as it might, the nightwalker could not pry the blade loose. As the druids’ ritual concluded at the darkest hour of the solstice, Eshimka sensed its imminent demise and used magic to escape back to the Negative Energy Plane.
After the escape of the nightwalker, Ivvora left the ruined hilt of her blade with the Twinhorn following, instructing them to place it on the center stone each year when the world grew darkest. She then traveled north, pursuing new threats in her never-ending quest to eradicate evil from Golarion.
The Twinhorns have kept their promise to Ivvora over countless generations, ensuring that their nomadic circuit always brings them back to the standing stones each winter.
For centuries, Eshimka has been able to travel the planes and build up its power, gathering armies of undead followers. However, the combination of the druids’ magic and the fragment of Ivvora’s blade have prevented the nightwalker from returning; the former bars it from traveling to the Material Plane except during the winter solstice, and the latter pulses painfully with holy power as a reminder of what awaits the undead menace if it returns. Eshimka is patient and waits for the day it can gain its revenge on mortals. Each year it prepares itself to travel back, but thinks better after sensing Ivvora—in truth the hilt of her dagger—waiting to finish it off.
Recently, acquisition agents from the Blakros Museum discovered the Twinhorns’ interesting tradition while following the story of Ivvora, champion of the Shining Crusade. They approached the following, asking to buy the relic to display in their new exhibit. When the Twinhorns refused, the acquisition agents stole it, unwilling to let such a rare treasure rest in the hands of barbaric northerners. They quickly traveled south, returning to Absalom with their
prize.
Once the following became aware of the theft, they dispatched a large group of warriors to retrieve the hilt, led by Medda, the following’s spiritual leader and keeper of Ivvora’s treasured weapon. They vowed to return with it before the winter solstice, for it was not a point of pride but a matter of life and death for all living creatures in their territory.
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The Pathfinder Society received a call for help from the Blakros Museum, where intruders had tripped the many defenses and barricaded themselves inside the building. Upon overcoming these safeguards, you encountered Medda and her Twinhorn warriors. Medda was willing to discuss the Kellids’ reason for attacking. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin was angered to learn that museum agents resorted to theft to gain relics and promised Medda that Pathfinders would accompany them back to the Tusk Mountains to return the hilt.
With your help, the Pathfinders secured passage for their convoy through the Hold of Belkzen and fought off renegade tribes’ raiders.
However, you arrived at the Twinhorn encampment too late; Eshimka’s forces had begun flooding through a portal at the standing stones. The Pathfinders needed to fight back the undead and close the rift. Once the rift was sealed, you learned that the attack had left an extraplanar scar. Expecting an even greater invasion the next solstice, the Pathfinders must prepare to defeat Eshimka and end the threat forever.
The Society members followed in the footsteps of the paladin Ivvora, seeking the place where she died battling a powerful white dragon. There, Medda hoped to commune with Ivvora in the afterlife, learning how to reforge the broken dagger or create a new weapon to destroy Eshimka. In the process, those present had to fight the new generations of white dragons and their kobold servitors who inhabited the area.
Now preparations are being made to travel to an ancient battlefield where Ivvora and her comrades fought against an overwhelming undead force...
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Juxian smiles at Medda, "My home land really is quite cold...but sometimes the Blakros are colder than the lands I left. Sorry again about my in-law's actions with that artifact. At least we got it back to you with little bloodshed."
Memory dawns upon the fighter. "Wait, 'in-laws'?"
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“Another warrior of Vildeis?! Well met, brother! “booms the aasmiar in the dented and scratched breastplate. As he stretches out his hand in greeting, you notice the many scars which criss-cross both of his arms. You also notice how insanely good looking he is. In spite of his flowing blond hair, perfect angelic features, and the small flecks in his skin of something golden glinting in the light, he seems completely unself-conscious, open, and friendly. Standing in the chill air, his arms and most of his broad chiseled torso exposed, he also seems unaffected by the cold.
“How did you come to be a follower of Our Lady the Martyr? “
“I am Zarnel, originally from Mendev. And yourselves? “he asks Juxian and Abaal as he offers a shake to both.
As he listens to his new allies, it's obvious that he is slightly distracted. He keeps scanning the crowd of Pathfinders, searching perhaps for someone in particular.
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A timid ratfolk wearing a rather concealing cloak slowly approaches Zarnel. She reeks of oil, sulphur, and alcohol... and not the kind meant for consumption. Her cloak parts, revealing a bandolier containing strange clockwork gadgets, and a scabbard at her hip. She reaches out a clawed hand and tugs at Zarnel's cloak. "Hewwo again!"
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Feeling the slight tug on his cloak, Zarnel turns and smiles at the diminutive tinkerer. "Chou Wei, my friend! Hello again! It's good to see you." His clean and strangely soft hand grips her slightly oily one in earnest.
And still, even though he's clearly pleased to see Chou Wei again, he continues to watch the crowd of agents....
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A young woman with dirty-blonde hair and pale green eyes comes wandering through the crowd, looking around with a rather vague and dreamy expression. As her eyes scan the crowd they light up when they fall on Chou Wei.
"Old Friend Chou Wei! Hi!" she calls out, bouncing energetically on the balls of her feet as she waves to the ratfolk. The woman maneuvers her way through the crowd with surprising speed considering the heavy scale mail she wears.
"It's so wonderful to see you again, Old Friend," the woman beams as she approaches...but then she stops suddenly when she spots Zarnel. A faint pink flush comes over her cheeks as she raises her hand and shakily waves at him.
"H...hi Old Friend Zarnel! Um...it's nice to see you again," she squeaks.
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The large muscular nagaji stalks into the assembled pathfinders with purpose. An imposing figure, he looms over many of those around him, though moves with a quiet grace that belies his size. For those not familiar with the race, telling one nagaji from another is not always a simple matter, but this one looks familiar to most of you.
His eyes watch those around him, more than the path ahead, and when he finally speaks, it is then you know for sure, that this is indeed the pathfinder known as 575, the tell-tale rhythm of his speech a dead giveaway.
Into the Fangwood.
Following Ivora's path
From so long ago
He says finally, looking out over the woods ahead.
His mouth suddenly opens to reveal rows of sharp teeth, in an approximation of a human smile.
To be among friends
As we confront this next task...
What more can one ask?
He eyes Abaal with a puzzled expression, as the man puts on snow shoes.
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Just as Chou Wei asks her question, a vision of loveliness appears from the crowd. Not the nagaji, mind you, but a blonde so full of energy as to light up a room. Zarnel doesn't even acknowledge Chou Wei's question or 575's appearqnce. He stands a little bit straighter than before, and the smile on his face is one of delight and joy at seeing Her.
“Hello, Corona. I had hoped... How have you... I was concerned... “ he stammers uncharacteristically.
Why does she make me feel like a school boy again?
He gathers his wits, and puts out his hand to Corona with his palm more open and slightly upturned.
“It is truly wonderful to see you again, Corona,“ he finishes in a voice of sincerity and charm.
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The long journey south from the slopes of the Tusk Mountains to the edge of Fangwood took several weeks, during which many of the Twinhorns and Pathfinders exchanged ancestral stories and tales of daring adventures to pass the time on the relatively uneventful trek. By the time the Fangwood rises ahead in the brisk morning air, both groups are eager to confront whatever lies ahead.
Medda addresses the crowd gathered before her. “South of here lies a battlefield where the paladin Ivvora risked her life in a daring ploy to help her battalion defeat an undead horde. For her selflessness, Ivvora earned a token of Vildeis’s favor: the dagger she used to deal a terrible blow to Eshimka! For all the crusaders’ heroism, I can sense an undead taint lingered here, and that stretch of the Fangwood has expanded in the centuries since to absorb it. It is now our turn to earn Vildeis’s blessing, risking ourselves to end this threat so that in turn we might slay Eshimka once and for all.
“The terrain favors small groups over larger formations, so we shall divide into smaller groups to navigate the forest and identify the corruption’s heart. May Ivvora’s example guide us to victory!” With that, Medda and her phantom Anok turn and enter the Fangwood, followed by Pathfinder and Twinhorn teams that fan out behind her.
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To be among friends
As we confront this next task...
What more can one ask?He eyes Abaal with a puzzled expression, as the man puts on snow shoes.
Seeing the reptilian man look quizzically at his footwear, Abaal motions for his fellow to 'wait for it.'
“The terrain favors small groups over larger formations, so we shall divide into smaller groups to navigate the forest and identify the corruption’s heart. May Ivvora’s example guide us to victory!” With that, Medda and her phantom Anok turn and enter the Fangwood, followed by Pathfinder and Twinhorn teams that fan out behind her.
"See my dactylic disciple of the dragon friend." Abaal says expansively. "Is it not like you have been here before! It is as if this quest of ours has already been written! Come! Soon you shall unleash your breath weapon and claws upon the enemy! I of course have but one 'claw', but it is weapon enough for me--the black falchion of the Daring Sword of Katapesh!™"
He flourishes his adamantine falchion and then sheathes it.
"That is unless of course your have it within you sorcerous blood to fly us all over these mountains."
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"Oh! Well after we closed that portal...was it the first or second time? Anyway, after we closed the portal and things went back to normal I got to go visit Kaer Maga which was really really neat but sort of strange - did you know that there are trolls there and they tell the future by pulling their own guts out? It was really gross but really neat at the same time and anyway we went down into these big tunnels under the city and there were beasts from other dimensions and weird crystals and one of the other Pathfinder agents could do things with ectoplasm like I'd never seen before! And then after we lived through that mission I got to go to Heaven and it was great. Well, mostly great, the scenery is really pretty but they're really kind of stuffy up there some of them, like they've all got sticks up their-oh! Hi Old Friend 575!"
Corona prattles on, talking a mile a minute and at a much more rapid clip than usual...almost as if she's flustered about something. Or perhaps someone. As she does, a small chicken darts out of the crowd and flap-flutters upward to perch on the woman's shoulder. Perhaps catching the strange looks that the two other, unfamiliar agents may be giving her, Corona stops her talking long enough to take a deep breath before finally turning her attention to the new faces.
"Oh! I'm sorry New Friends, I got so caught up talking to Zarnel and Chou Wei and 575 - we've worked together before you see - that I forgot to tell you my name," Corona explains. "I'm Corona Merrion and this is Stuffing," she continues, indicating the chicken on her shoulder. "Do either of you like cornbread? I always make fresh cornbread before going out on a mission; there's plenty for everyone!"
This sort of manic energy continues for much of the journey to the Fangwood...
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As Abaal displays his falchion with a flourish, Corona gives him a confused look. "Um...I don't think there are any dragons here. Maybe? I don't know...my memory's been really fuzzy lately and sometimes I feel like I'm doing stuff that I've already done before."
She pauses for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But even if there aren't any dragons, it would be pretty neat if we could fly. I can't make us fly though; can anyone else here make us fly?"
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Zarnel reaches out and scratches Stuffing under the chin. “Hello, little one. At least this time, no one is looking at you like they want to eat you. “
“Corona, I too have felt the strangeness of these last several missions. As if we've been here before but not. I had thought it was your powers of Time and our, ummm, connection, that caused it. “he finishes with a strange catch in his voice.
As they trek south and get to know each other, Zarnel approaches Abaal. “ I appreciate you taking point. I think I shall remain near the back to protect... the others. Oh, and yes, Corona's cornbread is quite delicious. “
“Corona, I replaced the potion that I used to fly and slay the dragon that day, so I can do that again if need be. But only for myself, I'm sorry. “
As much as I would love to soar through the sky with her in my arms like a real angel.
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When Medda appears and issues her call to action, some of you experience an unsettling glitch-in-the-matrix sense of déjà vu. The moment passes, and you set out into the Northern Fangwood.
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You approach the edge of the forest. Brambles grow wild throughout the edge of the wood where a thick canopy of trees begins to filter out sunlight, turning day into night. The overgrown plant life forbids easy access deeper into the forest and fills the air with the sickly-sweet smell of decay. The outer edge of the blighted forest is overgrown with poisonous barbed plants, and the thick foliage hides venomous creatures in its nooks and crannies.
Undeterred, the team attempts to navigate its way through the area safely.
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575 moves through the corrupted woods nimbly, his movements agile, despite his size, as he slips under and past the multitude of dangers therein.
He tries to keep an eye out for other dangers, in the dense undergrowth, but just avoiding the foliage is hard enough.
With each forward step
The blight tries to deny us
With its poisoned touch.
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When Medda appears and issues her call to action, some of you experience an unsettling glitch-in-the-matrix sense of déjà vu. The moment passes, and you set out into the Northern Fangwood.
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Even with Juxian's experience with herbalism, he still has a tough time correctly navigating the thick and dangerous forest.
Juxian responds to 575's haiku by turning it into a tanka.
"Seems the poison is in me
Soon I shall fall victim here"
"Fear not! Abaal is at your side!"
With a whoosh of his huge black blade Abaal deftly cuts away the foliage and is at the man's side. With another way-too-close whirl of his mighty cleaver he cuts the clothing away from wound and makes ready to suck out the poison.
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Chou eyes Abaal and Juxian and opens her mouth a few times as though to speak. She closes it without speaking and contemplates the pair as she follows along.
Seeing Juxian taken ill she shyly approaches him and tugs at his clothing to get his attention. She looks as though she's swishing something around in her mouth, then spits out a small vial and offers it to him. "Antitoxin mistew Bwackwos?"
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Zarnel begins to try to climb over the twisted branches and through the gnarled vines. Just as he is about to get through a particularly rough patch, he slips. Falling to the ground he impales himself on a large thorn dripping with some foul venom.
He grits his teeth and urges his body to resist the poison that he can feel coursing through his body. But, alas, the plant's poison is just slightly stronger than his ability to fight it off. As the fever begins to wrack his frame, the golden flecks in his skin take on a greenish hue as if tarnished.
Corona struggles through the brambles, but the oracle manages to just barely avoid the worst of the hazards.
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You emerge from the brambles, relatively intact, but Juxian and Zarnel are sickened by the mild venom dripping from the poisonous thorns.
The forest floor is blanketed with eerie dark flowers that paint the otherwise lightless woods with their purple incandescence. Disorienting paths cut through the trees, forward-facing paths seem to lead back to where they started, and retracing one’s steps leads to unfamiliar terrain. Glowing eyes glare hungrily from within the impenetrable thickets, where the vines slowly curl around anyone who gets too close.
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Having more or less plowed her way through the brambles Corona pauses for a moment to catch her breath and to tend to her companions.
"Are you okay Old Friend Zarnel and New Friend Juxian?" she asks anxiously. "I'm not really much of a healer or I'd do more to help."
Corona then pauses and looks around, noticing all the glowing eyes and grabby plants. "This doesn't seem like a very nice place..."
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Chou crouches low and carefully slips out from the brambles, making sure not to get slashed, pierced, bludgeoned, bitten, poisoned, or otherwise inconvenienced. Finally she reaches into her robe and pulls out a wayfinder... and judging by the size of it, one clearly meant for a human-sized adventurer, not someone of her diminutive stature. She gives it a quick shake and floods the area with light. She tucks her robe back over her shoulders, letting the (relatively) giant wayfinder hang clearly to illuminate her passage as she peers around, looking intently for traps or ambushes.
She opens her mouth to speak again, then considers her words. Finally she closes her mouth, once again electing not to speak, but instead gives a smile and a nod before drawing her blade and creeping forward.
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Sickened
The thick canopy of the forest keeps any outside light from passing through, but the glowing flowers provide dim light throughout the area. The local plant life seems to have a mind of its own and responds to you intruders with displeasure.
There's movement ahead, as two large monsters emerge from the undergrowth. Spikes cover the body of these two vaguely reptilian creatures. Their fearsome faces feature dagger-sharp teeth and glowing eyes.
The blighted beasts have eyes that glow faintly purple, and the same eerie flowers that blanket the forest grow also on their bodies. The creatures seem to ignore all the hazards in the area, and the flowers’ illumination is enough for the beasts to navigate and attack without concern for the dim light.
Chou wei
Zarnel
Juxian
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Pink??
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Corona
575
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Red??
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Abaal
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Juxian goes around and life links 575, Zarnel, Abaal, and Chou Wei since he forgot to earlier. "Vildeis will allow me to take your wounds, but try not to get maimed or something."
He then looks at the creatures, "Well, those are magical beasts and they are usually called Hodags in common. Let me think about what they do..."
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"Thank you Mistew Bwakwos."
Chou elects to close the distance between herself and the Hodag, positioning herself in a position to hopefully take advantage of the creature's tactics.
Once in position, she reaches back into her cloak and pulls a ripcord with a tag labeled Muscular Timing Augmentation Generator. A gout of steam blasts puffs out from under her cloak and the whirring sound of cogs emanates from her back. After a moment, they reach steady state and fall silent and she mutters, "MuTAGen opewating nominawy"
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Juxian warns everyone about the hodags' tail slap and their 'charge-and-toss' ability. Then the oracle establishes a life link with 575, Zarnel, Abaal, and Chou Wei.
Zarnel pulls a wand and activates it, creating an invisible shield of force that hovers in front of him.
Chou wei wonders if her wayfinder would work in the strange forest. To find out, she could activate it. She moves to block the hodags' charge lane. She blows off some steam and works a few kinks out of her back. She's ready, if one of them charges.
The ratfolk judged the hodag's tactics correctly. The pink one charges, but it ignores her, instead swinging its spiked tail at 575. The nagaji takes a crushing blow, and the tail slap sends him 10 feet into the air. He falls hard, landing prone.
Chou wei
Zarnel
Juxian
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Pink Hodag
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Corona
575
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Red Hodag
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Abaal
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575 reels from the hodag's attack, taking a moment just to get his breath back as he hits the ground hard.
Trying to keep Abaal between himself and the creature, he slowly gets back to his feet with an audible groan.
He turns his attention to the creature that caused all the pain, trying to remember what worked last time he saw them.
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Chou wei's wayfinder illuminates the monsters attacking the party. As the pink hodag charges past her, the ratfolk thrusts her rapier into its thigh.
575 catches his breath and clears his head, gets back on his feet, and calls upon one of his superpowers, temporarily honing his skills against hodags.
Corona teeters back a step and carefully casts a spell, and a brilliant flash of shimmering light bursts around the red hodag. It blinks it glowing, purple eyes trying to clear the twinkling stars from its vision.
The red hodag opens its maw and hisses an angry roar, stepping forward and reaching out for Chou wei with claws, tooth, and tail. Somehow the tinkerer evades every one of its powerful attacks.
Chou wei
Zarnel
Juxian
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Pink Hodag
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Corona
575
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Red Hodag
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Abaal