A veteran Pathfinder exploring the Fenwall Mountains of Varisia has begun sleepwalking, traveling through the dead of night in the same direction each time. The following mornings, however, he awakens injured and lost in the wilderness, never reaching the mysterious destination that drew him from his bed in the night. Something is calling Kalkamedes, something powerful, but unless he can make it safely to the source of his somnambulism, that power will remain a mystery. It falls to a team of Pathfinders to escort the sleepwalker to his destination and uncover the true nature of the strange phenomenon overtaking Kalkamedes's dreams.
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A wrinkle faced, salt and pepper bearded Dwarf squints as he reads an announcement in the Absalom Pathfinder Lodge. "Sleep walker? What in Torag's slag pit is this crew coming to. Wasting a good agent's time ta babysit some kid that can't stay in his crib at night!"
He taps his withered coin pouch though and sighs "But if the pay is good then I guess I'll help some younguns get some experience.. even if its just babysittin'." He flips his metal visor down with a clang and marches off towards the teleporting room. Pappy never would believe one of his grandkids 'uses them magic portals'. Heh.
You have been summoned to Heidmarch Manor, the home of the Magnimar Pathfinder Lodge. There you are presented with a map and a short letter that reads, "Once you are all gathered, follow this map to reach me in the Fenwall Mountains. A pathfinder is in need of assistance. I am already with him, please join me as quickly as possible."
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A half orc in travel worn clothing reaches out his hand in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you. Name's Korum. Don't know the 'Lady', but so far I've never met a VeeCee who was ...nice. Still, I'd bet she knows what's what."
Further inspection of the road weary orc reveals a cloak spattered with dried mud and mended leather armor stained with something other than mud. He has a large ax strapped to his back that has seen some use. Korum offers a smile to Ironshanks, "Baby-sittin' sounds like a nice change o' pace fer a change." He slides a toothpick into his mouth and finds a piece of wall to lean against.
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"In my experience, Venture Captains are chosen to get the job done. Not to pander to one's emotions and be...nice" A stern looking elf says walking in and straightening his robes. He fiddles with the sword hanging by his hip before moving it to the other side. He then mutters to himself, "how am I to carry my sword and my book or one side. Damn these things."
"anyway, are we waiting on any one else" He says pushing his glasses up.
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Ironshanks looks at the fresh recruits as they walk in, keeping a tight lip for the moment and a furrowed brow A gnome, an orc, and an Elf? What sort of hells did I walk into here?
He straightens his brow and walks around introducing himself with a firm handshake to each of them. "Ironshanks Magee of the Clan Magee. Looks like I may be yer senor agent on this baby sitting mission."
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The door opens and a lean, pale, blonde-haired male elf wearing an olive drab robe and holding a light brown colored staff enters the room.
"Zis must be ze right room. Why else would zuch a motley crew of people be assembled unless eet were for a Pathfinder mission?"
He laughs, set his staff against the wall, pulls a chair out from the table and sits down. He then pulls out a tarnished silver goblet and reaches for a pitcher of wine.
"I hope ze Zangria ees good here in Varisia. My cousin, Xathos ees from zese lands and he always zeems to have ze best Zangria."
He lowers his voice and looks at the others while smiling mockingly.
"I zink he uses ze majicks to get zat wine all ze time!"
He laughs loudly and pours wine into his goblet. After taking a drink and grimacing, he asks, "Zo, what ees eet zat we are to do zis time zat zey do not weesh to do for zemselves?"
Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch glances out a window as the last wisps of twilight fade over the Fenwall Mountains. Turning from the sight, she runs her hand along the rustic cabin’s wall and stands beside an occupied wooden bed before addressing you.
“This,” the venture captain says, gesturing to the man thrashing around violently, straining against the bonds that lash him securely to the bed, “is our colleague, Kalkamedes. Every night for several weeks now, he has fallen into a deep slumber and tried to sleepwalk right out of his cottage. If not restrained, he marches straight north, eventually falling off a cliff or into a bog as if trying to get himself killed in an attempt to reach an unknown goal.” As though he were expressing disagreement, the man tied to the bed suddenly begins pumping his limbs even harder, the violent spasms threatening to smash the bed into splinters.
“There are those who have recently criticized the Pathfinders for our indifference to the plight of our fellow field agents. It’s time to show that’s not true. We want you to help Kalkamedes, whether he wants it or not. Several of our best spellcasters have attempted an extensive list of magical cures, but whatever sleepwalking curse or effect he’s under tenaciously resists our efforts. All we can do is keep him safe.” Heidmarch pats him with a degree of professional affection, and Kalkamedes rewards her by trying to swat her with his head.
“Kalkamedes’s friends are at their wits’ end, so we are going to attempt the only thing that we have not tried: we’re going to let him go tonight. That’s where you come in. I want you to follow him and keep him safe and in one piece. Let him get to wherever his addled brain thinks he needs to go so badly. Maybe, just maybe, if he gets there, you can find a way to help him. Maybe you can determine who or what did this to him and find a way to undo it.” Heidmarch pulls out a serrated knife. “Now before I cut him free, does anyone have any questions or last minute preparations?”
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"What lies North of here that we know of? What's the furthest Kalkamedes has gone of yet?" The otherwise quiet Dwarf asks these questions with a polite but firm tone of voice. Her face softens a little before she adds, "I'm Moria, by the way."
Watching a sleepwalker is better than hanging around at home, I guess, but I thought my first adventure with the Pathfinder Society would be more... exciting? I hope it gets more interesting than this.
Sheila says, "His friends have typically found him no more than a couple of miles away, as he invariably gets caught in a trap, or injures himself enough to prevent travelling for the rest of the night. They bring him back here, and as soon as he can move again, he takes off."
"The furthest he has succeeded in getting is a few miles away -- barely an hour's walk. I haven't identified anything I could think of as his goal, so whatever it is must be a significant distance away. Hopefully you can keep him out of trouble long enough to actually get there tonight."
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The elf walks over to the man on the bed and ponders for a moment. "Hmm. Perhaps we should leash him. Maybe something around the legs, so if he tries anything, we could just trip him." He looks around to the others. "So who brought rope?"
His next question is pointed towards Shiela, "Do we know what mission he was on previously?
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Xusius considers what he knows about the local area. Much of the knowledge he has was obtained from his cousin Xathos in late night conversations over numerous bottles of Sangria.
He shares this with the other party members.
"Kalkamedes ees a veteran Pathfinder, though his fame does not extend beyond southern Varisia. Although he ees now semi-retired and only forwards ze occasional report to ze Decemvirate zese days, his colleagues continue to respect him for his many prior accomplishments."
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Xusius ponders the situation and says, "I zink we need to let him go where he needs to go. We will need to eliminate ze obstacles that impede his march as well as any dangers zat threaten his progress until he reaches hees destination. Only zen will we understand where he ees trying to reach and zen we may glean why he marches zere."
He then pours another goblet of Sangria and drinks from it.
"What ees to ze north of here zat may be connected to some of his previous Pathfinder activities?"
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Seebonickk shares what he knows with the party as well.
"Yeah he's a veteran like Xusius we should help him out"
He moves next to Sheila Heidmarch.
"What are you looking AT? Anything interesting? Anything interesting in the city? Maybe I can stop by after our mission. I've always wanted to visit the area."
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Moria looks back and forth between the two elves, pondering each idea. "We couldn't move very quickly if Kalkamedes is hobbled. What if whatever's calling him is more than one night's journey? Any slow down besides the cliffs and bogs he has already fallen victim to could make for a very long journey. Maybe we should head out soon, as to get a full night's travel?"
She sighs, pondering how she could possibly help someone traverse cliffs and bogs other than carrying them around or across. Not much comes to mind.
"Do we know what mission he was on previously?
"What ees to ze north of here zat may be connected to some of his previous Pathfinder activities?"
"I haven't sent him out for anything in quite some time. He had a tendency to pick his own areas of research and follow them up individually, so who knows what he has been doing recently?"
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Xusius considers what he knows about the local area.
Seebonickk shares what he knows with the party as well.
Both mineral-rich and monster infested, Fenwall is an untamed wilderness rife with dangerous terrain and bandit hideaways. This area is still a fairly unexplored wilderness, dotted with subterreanean caves.
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"What are you looking AT? Anything interesting? Anything interesting in the city? Maybe I can stop by after our mission. I've always wanted to visit the area."
Sheila looks at Seebonickk. "Pathfinders of all ranks are welcome at Heidmarch Manor. Come visit and I will certainly find a job for you."
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Moria looks back and forth between the two elves, pondering each idea. "We couldn't move very quickly if Kalkamedes is hobbled. What if whatever's calling him is more than one night's journey? Any slow down besides the cliffs and bogs he has already fallen victim to could make for a very long journey. Maybe we should head out soon, as to get a full night's travel?"
She sighs, pondering how she could possibly help someone traverse cliffs and bogs other than carrying them around or across. Not much comes to mind.
Sheila says, "Yes, you should get started right away, if for no other reason than to end this poor man's suffering."
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Flaith Festung is a beauriful young woman, about 5`6`` weighting around 140 Pounds. She has long braided honeycoloured hair and emerald green eyes.
She is wearing gold etched armor and a round steel shield with a golden Lion crest and armed with a cold iron Longsword.
She bows deeply and replies.
"My iomedeas valor shine on you. I apologize, my boat was very very late and I just managed to join you."
Looking around Flaith shrugs.
"If sir Kalkamedes was an adventurer, maybe he will have some of his gear stashed somewhere. This might provide useful!"
Flaith looks around the small house. The wardrobe in the bedchamber contains an explorer’s outfit and a pair of strong boots. A drawer in the end table by the bed contains a series of unfinished charts mapping the Fenwall mountains. The stove is warm and has apparently been recently used. Among the coals lie the remains of a crumpled and burned sketch. The sketch depicts a squat fortress under a full moon enshrouded by clouds.
A glint catches Flaith's eye, and she notices a hidden lever in the back of the stove. Using a glove against the heated metal, she pulls the lever and reveals a hidden compartment in the floor near a stack of water barrels. The compartment contains a locked metal chest.
Seebonickk pulls out the chest and sets it on the floor. As Sheila watches, he deftly bypasses the lock, and finds what is probably Kalkamedes' old adventuring gear:
* a pair of bracers (magical)
* a mud-stained cloak (magical)
* a small vial of elixir with a small picture of a fish on it (not magical, but probably alchemical)
* a dried gourd filled with liquid and marked with a heart (contents are magical)
* an irregularly-shaped mithral flask with jigsaw-like edges and no markings, filled with liquid (contents are magical)
* an oiled cloth carefully wrapping a mithral longsword with a crack from its tip to its hilt (magical)
Xusius determines that the bracers are magical defense , the cloak is a standard cloak to improve the wearer's resinstances , the potion with the heart is a minor healing potion , and the potion in the mithral flask helps you hide from undead .
The sword is enchanted to be magically sharp as well as allow its bearer to help aliies . There seems to be something else about it, but he is unable to determine what.
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Moria hands the vial to Xusius, simply saying, "I can't make heads or tails of this. Magic isn't my strong-suit. But it appears there's one item for each of us that we know what is. I'd like the Cloak of Resistance if no one else feels they need it. If not, the Bracers of Armor. I already have a good weapon and a potion of Cure light wounds, and I don't hide from anything."
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Flaith looks at the longsword and looks at the other questingly.
"If our ward is sleepwarding we should give him his bracers to fortify him better. For the sword, alas, would you mind if I took it? It would be an honor, even though it is damaged! It will remind me that even perfect Faith can break, a lesson of humility!"
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"That is very.. poetic, Flaith. And you may be right, we are uncertain of how Kalkamedes ends up with these injuries, and any protection may help him reach his goal.
Moria narrows her eyes at the Gnome, the only betrayal of her confusion, and says, "How do you mean Flaith or I use the sword, Seebonickk? She would like the blade, and I am fine with my falchion. I am not too sure what 'Allying' means, and I only know of the bracers and cloak through other adventurers' stories."
She eyes all of the items from the chest once more. Here's your chance to see what magical items can do Moria.
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Xusius looks over the items and looks at the group. "I have no need of any of zese zings, but might I suggest zat Zeebonickk zake ze potion of Hide from ze Undead? Zat could come een very handy at some point possibly and allow zome zcouting when we need eet. I have a Mage Armor wand, so ze Bracers are of no use to me. Ze cloak would probably benefit zou more, Moria."
He then pulls out another wand and offers it to Flaith. "Eet appears zou are ze healer for us, no? If zou would take zis wand of Cure Light Wounds and use it as needed, oui? Make sure to heal Kalkamedes. Eet would do us no good eef he were to be killed or incapacitated. Now, what about zis oil?"
He directs his attention to the vial with the fish on it.
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Seebonickk turns to Moria and holds his arms up with palms out and smiles. "You ladies are warriors!" he looks down at his small longsword "I have a sword but that one is TOO big and heavy me for me. No offense meant OK! Use your falchion by all means! I'll take the potion if you guys want. But if they're wraiths hiding won't do much good. My Uncle Troggensbottle got shrunken by a wraith once and he died! I hope we don't see any!" He looks back in the hidden compartment in the stove. "I wonder if there's any more treasure in here!" then he moves to the front. "I wonder if this thing works? Do you think he does his cooking in there with all his magical gear hidden in the back??"
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The liquid in the fish vial is not magical, but it tastes of seawater and Xusius guesses it is probably an alchemical reagent to help you swim.
Flaith takes the sword. It gives her a slightly odd feeling; not bad and definitely not evil, but just slightly unsettling, as if there were something about it she couldn't quite sense.
You dress Kalkamedes in his outdoor clothes and place his magical bracers on him, dividing his other gear among you for future need. Sheila then removes the ropes holding the sleepwalker down.
Immediately after he is freed of his restraints, Kalkamedes totters out the door and begins stumbling northward. It is obvious that in his current state, Kalkamedes has no sense of self-preservation, and even the most mundane acts of navigation could prove difficult.
The night sky is clear with a waning quarter crescent moon that provides dim light, though the sleepwalking Pathfinder staggers on blindly, eyes closed and snoring. The ground is damp from the previous nights rain, though not enough to make the terrain difficult.
For half an hour he staggers along, maintaining a generally straight path. Things seem to be going well, when he steps on a damp rock, twisting his ankle and falling to the ground. He gets himself up, but is limping rather significantly.
With a practiced hand, Flaith easily heals the minor wound and Kalkamedes continues on his way.
After the ankle incident, you travel for another hour without incident. That's when you realize Kalkamedes is making straight for a thick, thorn-filled copse.
Moria steps in front of Kalkamades, but when she tries to grab him, Seebonnick "helps", and the sleeper somehow slips from her grasp and continues walking.
Flaith manages to stop his advance ... for now ...