The other goblins, hearing the song so their companions ceasing, regroup and attempt to punch a hole in the Pathfinder's front with their arrows by concentrating fire on the cleric.
But their projectiles are easily deflected by the unholy one's defenses.
Fifth Round (Post-Haunt Manifesting) Cont'd/ Sixth Round Begins
Richard
Kazu -15 HP
Damhán-Alla
Goblin, R (blue)
Goblin, H (green)
Quintus
Goblin, M (red) -22 HP -24 NL
Ilathor -2 HP
Black Midnight
Goblin, S (yellow) -9 HP | -52 NL
Richard
Kazu -15 HP
Damhán-Alla
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"It serves the Prince of Law to keep me alive." Quintus answers Ilathor, his helm hiding his dry smile.
"I thank you for your gracious offer, but I trust His plans for me involves deeds other than shielding impudent elves from harm."
The cleric touches again his unholy symbol, and a ghastly image of heavy mace appears behind the blue goblin and strikes the creature.
Ilathor's bolt of magic force and Kazu's claws bring down one of the goblins .
The other , wounded by the unholy weapon, draws a well-craft dogslicer and tries to make his way toward the main tunnel.
Desperate to get through, the goblin strikes hard and with precision.
Sixth Round (Post-Haunt Manifesting) Cont'd/ Seventh Round Begins
Goblin, R (blue) -6 HP
Goblin, H (green) -5 HP | -20 NL
Quintus
Goblin, M (red) -22 HP -24 NL
Ilathor -2 HP
Black Midnight
Goblin, S (yellow) -9 HP | -52 NL
Richard -7 HP
Kazu -15 HP
Damhán-Alla
The cleric and the mage drop the final goblin. The rogue make sure he stays down. The kineticist makes sure he never gets up again.
You find among them, the following items: five +1 flaming arrows[I], two [I]potions of cure light wounds, three potions of jump, and three potions of feather fall, six vials of alchemist’s fire, eight smokesticks, six thunderstones, three small suits of studded leather, one small suit of masterwork studden leather, four shortbows, over four dozen arrows, and four well-made dogslicers.
A leather bag is propped up against one of the walls in the chamber, indicating that these Steelfang goblins were in the middle of sorting out their latest haul. The contents mostly consist of personal effects of negligible value, but contain a wand of prayer [ooc](5 charges)[/coo]. Broken stone from shattered statues and altars litter the lair, though a few stone tablets remain. Those that are intact have been defaced with paint, each bearing a drawing of a round goblin head with knives for teeth, but they are otherwise undamaged.
You are able to piece together the content of one of the tablets from the various pieces. The tablets contain an ancient ballad that tells the story of a dwarf named Jorgar Ironbellows, an ambitious noble who murdered his father to secure his inheritance, only to be assassinated by his own son in turn. The fable serves as a cautionary tale, warning others about the folly of favoring one’s own ambition above the lives of their fellow dwarves.
You suddenly receive a brief vision of an elderly gnome woman who says, “If only this song had been sung in the halls of Absalom’s lodge, perhaps these lessons would have saved a few lives and reputations. Sing it once more for me the next time you’re there, would you?”
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Damhán concentrates for a moment, and the bits of broken stone littering the floor start to rise up, and spiral about his person... like a small ring of dust around a planet.
He starts moving his hands in the air in front of him, and pieces of stone, seemingly at random, respond to his gestures, rising up in front of him. Some he keeps floating in front of him, others are quickly discarded and sent back to the ring of stone. After a while, the pieces remaining form the shape of one of the intact tablets.
"This one seems to tell a dwarven tale of murder and greed." He says, as pieces float in place before him. "Not your typical cheery ballad, I suppose."
He doesn't seem much interested in the story, beyond the puzzle of piecing the tablet back together. With a shrug, he drops the tablet pieces off to one side, and the remaining rubble falls clattering to the ground around him.
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Ilathor calmly dusts himself off and stows his wand. "These ventures are of my own design and I focus on reclaiming lost pieces of history. This primarily includes artifacts and knowledge lost to time. As Pathfinders, we find many fonts of lore that we usually cannot spend time investigating. I return after our mission is complete to then perform additional explorations and research," he explains proudly to Quintus. "I like to keep a roster of potential agents to pull from when submitting my requisitions from the Society, lest I am stuck with a lot of half-wits, mouth-breathers, and page-creasers."
His explanation is alarmingly cut short as Damhan-Alla callously drops the tablets. Diving to their defense, the Elf quickly scoops them up and carefully places them in his bag. With a deep scowl, he glares at the Human and stomps off to the stash of equipment they found. "Unexpected indeed."
Unless one of his teammates object, he pulls a potion of feather fall, an alchemists' fire, a smokestick, and a thunderstone. "Shall we see where this tunnel leads? I suspect whatever functioned as these pests' warren is merely around the corner."
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Kazu lowers his claws once the final goblin has fallen, but the end of combat barely reduces his tension, as if he is on edge all the time. He glalnces expressionless at the stone pieces swirling around Damhan, and instead takes guard position at the entrance.
He gestures at the two potions. "I'll take one. Richard can have the other." Without waiting for acknowledgement, he gulps down the contents of one.
He then fades back into the shadow.
A thorough examination of the remaining caves uncover no additional treasures or sources of information.
Other than possibly discerning a means to bring a permanent end to the haunt, you determine that this cavern has now given up all of its secrets.
Upon your return to the entrance of the cave, Urgrin and Helga await excited to hear about what you found out about the cave. "We are pleased ta see ya alive!" cries Helga. "Did ye find a cause for the unsettling sounds?"
"Need a hammer?" He adds, hefting the weapon they pulled from the haunt room.
"Spooky haunts? AND goblin bards?!" Helga replies quizzically, before gasping upon seeing the scrawlings on the tablets. "Oh." The woman's face turns red with embarrassment. "So, those wretched cries we had heard, those were the sounds goblins?"
Urgin shakes his head shamefully, "We shouldna let our superstitious attitudes allow goblins to gain a foothold in this territory." He then lifts his head and says, "Thank you for dealing with them."
"As for this hammer," Helga interjects, seeming eager to change the subject. "It appears functional, but nothin' ta be proud of. If I had ta hazard a guess, I'd think it was Droskari. How do ya think the goblins got hold of it?"
Helga nods at the "explanation", though seems both embarrassed and unsatisfied.
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"The hatred between goblins and dwarves is ancient, many histories note the extreme and violent prejudice between the two races. The haunt we experienced was traumatic for us, however the goblins might have actually enjoyed it. That would appear to be a promising reason for why they would choose to live there, if anybody asked me," Ilathor offers.
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"I'll join, should the timing serve my cause. I do hope your expedition's results will be more than just rocks and broken pottery." Quintus replies the elf, after a moment of consideration. There could be interesting business opportunity in participating in an expedition without being on official Pathfinder business. Besides, he finds Ilathor's contempt towards fellow Pathfinders quite amusing.
Letting the others study the tablets, Quintus goes through the valuables, and takes the wand of prayer from the stash. "We'll all benefit the best if I keep this," he says, pocketing the item.
With the dwarves having renewed incentive to redouble their patrols and defenses, they aid the party with its departure from the Rising Spire.
When word of your completed investigations reaches Absalom, Kreighton Shaine requests that you meet him at the Grand Lodge.
Upon your arrival, he announces, "From what I have gleaned from reports, you have now acquired all the pieces necessary to unlock Eylysia’s last message, left at the site of her final confrontation before her disappearance."
"Come, follow me." he urges as he leads you through a series of vaulted halls and grand passages. As you approach, one of the research libraries within the Grand Lodge, Shaine pauses for a moment and announces, "I am eager to get started. As, no doubt, are the members of the Decemvirate who will be joining us."
Shane then resumes his advance toward the library, bidding you to follow.
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"A LIBRARY?!" Ilathor cheers, giddy like a child at this development. "I love libraries so much! Recently I was invited to spend time in the Taldane History library where we explored many tomes lost to time and secrecy! It was simply marvelous! I cannot wait to delve into the tomes in this one," he gushes, his joyous rambling continuing on for several minutes.
As part of his typical preparations for anything book related, he pops out a wand and places it against his temple before entering.
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"Decemvirate?" Kazu mutters to himself. He is surprised that they will be present, being always all secretive as is needed for their roles.
He studies carefully the security of the place. The Decemvirate gathering would be a perfect time for an assault. This is the Pathfinder Society headquarters after all.
"Decemvirate?" Kazu mutters to himself.
"I assure you that you have nothing to fear from the leadership of the Society." Shane replies. The voice of the sharp-eared elf is calm and soothing. "The members of the Decemvirate are as interested in uncovering truths of the past as you are."
Upon entering the library, you find two masked Decemvirate members—one with a helm that resembles flowing water and the other a steel whorl with three eyeholes awaiting you. They nod in greeting but, otherwise, say little more.
Lining the room are an assortment of old tomes and ancient artifacts. Among them is a totem of a mount, which evokes an artistic style of indicative of Shoanti culture, strikingly similar to that you which had observed in the Jeggare Museum. Also among the items in the room is an aged music stand and a rack filled with an assortment of cloaks.
"I trust you were able to gather the clues necessary to activate Eylysia’s last message?" inquires Shane as he ushers you further into the room of the library.
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Damhán frowns at the assembled items.
"The Shoanti stuff likely relates to all that mess at the museum in Korvosa." He observes thoughtfully.
"The tablet with that dwarf ballad... the vision from the other tablet suggested one play it here, in the Grand Lodge." He offers.
"As for the cowl thing... perhaps its part of an ensemble?" He adds, dubiously, fashion clearly not his thing.
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"On the notion of trust, I do find it quite convenient that two of the Decemvirate are here to check up on our work uncovering the dirty secrets of the Decemvirate..." Ilathor comments to nobody in particular, but does his best to position himself with a straight, unobscured line to the door. At least Kreighton is here and unlikely to happily see us murdered if the Decemvirtate wish to keep our discoveries in the dark.
"As our colleague has suggested, there is evidence of fraud among the early members of the Society and the founding of the Decemvirate. Specifically, the appropriated histories of the Shoanti at the hands of one Montlarion Jeggare. My colleague also makes an excellent point that the ballad could perhaps be beneficial in this mystery, as could the cowl in tandem with one of the cloaks that appear to have been provided," he summarizes. "Shall we?"
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Shane nods affirmatively at Damhán-Alla's suggested course of aciton.
If the members of the Decemvirate are displeased with Ilathor's comments, they do not make it evident.
When the elf asks posits his question, Shane gestures for the agents to proceed. "By all means." he says. "Please proceed."
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Damhán frowns at Ilathor, when the elf starts going on about fraud and conspiracy theories again. He shakes his head slightly. He had not intimated any of that, the arcanist was using his words to get up on his pointless soapbox again.
With a sigh, he concentrates for a moment, picking up the wooden shoanti rider totem they found at the museum, and moves it across to the riderless horse totem sitting in the room, to see from afar, if the former fits onto the latter.
The totem of the rider, appearing to move on its own, fits neatly onto the wooden horse. The air seems to grow almost thicker as it becomes clear that magic is at work.
Shane looks rather pleased and nods for the party to continue.
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"Promising. Who wishes to don Autumn's Cowl and sing the ballad?" Ilathor asks, in the hopes that someone will leap at the task. "As one Elysia wrote, 'Like the Lord of Seasons, our hoods illuminate truth, while their masks shelter deceit. Let this be the sign of our covenant.' Wearing the cowl and singing will likely be the key here."
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Quintus stands in front of the clothes rack, trying to recall Eylysia's exact words.
"I think the clue she left was 'Like the Lord of Seasons, our hoods illuminate truth, while their masks shelter deceit. Let this be the sign of our covenant.'."
"So perhaps we should wear these?"
And so, the cleric takes one of the cloaks and dons it. He pulls the hood on and off again, to see if there is any effect.
Following Quintus' lead, cloaks are donned. As the party members raise their hoods, they can feel the magic in the room intensifying. As one begins to sing the dwarven ballad, it becomes clear that all are to join in and the sound seems to amplify along with the ritual.
Long dormant magics activate and the research library around you blurs as the relics on the shelves seem to age in reverse. Items and furniture shuffle rapidly about the room until finally the movement comes to a halt. The room is now arrayed much differently than it was before, and strange swirling clouds of space wend throughout the area. At the center of the library stands a gnome woman with faded teal hair.
"About time you got here!” the gnome exclaims. “I’m expecting Veldrid any minute! We need to confront her with what we know and convince her to turn on the others. Once their deeds are revealed, they’ll have no choice but to resign."
In addition to the change in surroundings, you find that each of you, too, has changed--none of the Pathfinders looking quite like him or herself. Yet, somehow, you now know for certain that the gnome woman is Eylysia and that each of you are her companions.
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Kazu is momentarily stunned at the sudden appearance of the gnome but he recovers quickly. That is until he looks down on his arms and find his feathers gone. Claws gone. Instead, he is looking down at a pair of arms with very fair smooth skin and long delicate fingers. He touches his face and sure enough, his beak is gone, replaced by what he presumes is a elven face.
"Wait what?", he exclaimsin response to his changed appearance. "Huh?" he utters, when he hears a musical female voice emerge from his throat. "This better be temporary!" The growl he attempted to put into his voice comes out rather melodious instead.
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Richard looks down, both surprised and bemused to discover that he is now, apparently, a heavily-muscled Half-Elven female, clad in sturdy hide armour, and bedecked with beads and feathers.
He then concentrates, manifesting a blade of flame in his hands, before nodding in satisfaction.
"Well, at least my ability to do that remains unchanged..."
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Ilathor scowls deeply from his current vantage point, three and a half feet off the ground. "This is highly unamusing," he whines from under his gaudy hat. I'm THIS crock?! Fimbrik the bloody ILLUSIONIST is a wretched excuse for a Professor at the Arcanamirium! I deserve better!
"Eylysia, do be a dear and remind us all of the plan again? It would be a shame if some of us weren't on the same page, yes?" he asks, doing his best to sound overly pretentious, like a tenured, never-was professor lecturing beneath himself to a hall of miserable students.
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A quick look around him makes Quintus realize that he, too, must be wearing another guise. And looking down, he spots the holy symbol of Desna hanging on a chain around his neck - and bursts out in laughter.
"Oh, this is just hilarious! Of all the possible things, I'm a butterfly priest!"
