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A beautiful young woman with a slight point to her ears strolls in, a well-wrought starknife at her hip and a small bow strapped to her back. She looks as if she'd be as comfortable on the battlefield as she would performing for a crowded tavern, and smiles at her new allies. "It's good to meet you all. I'm under the impression that this Society is a good way to travel the world and spread the love of Desna. I'm eager to get started."
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A tall, hale man with dark hair and wearing heavy leathers and the spotted hide of a jungle cat walks into the room. A wayfinder with the Glyph of the Open Road hangs from his belt. A very much alive spotted jungle cat follows quietly behind him as he enters.
"I, too, am eager to get started," he says. "Eager to learn the truth of what this 'Mosquito Witch' is."
A shaky elf enters the room and tries his best to straighten up. You can hear bottles clink inside his somewhat bulky backpack. "Hello there. I'm Erevan. Nice to be working with all of you." He extends his shaking hands and stabilizes his glasses as they're about to fall off.
You begin this scenario after traveling through the River Kingdoms, to the gladiator city of Tymon. Based on directions from the Grand Lodge, you find yourself at Smine’s Weaponworks, famed smithy and clandestine Pathfinder lodge run by the friendly dwarven Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine.
The din of ringing steel and the simmering heat of the forge makes Smine’s Weaponworks easy to find, beyond even its sterling reputation and its well painted sign. An open sliding door leads into a work area filled with apprentices, each toiling to fuel the ceaseless demands for weapons to feed the city’s famed Arena of Aroden. One of the workers, a grim-faced halfling woman barely taller than her own anvil, flashes a smile and points to a narrow staircase at the back of the smithy.
Climbing the stairs provides a small respite from the din and the heat, with hanging bowls of cloves and aromatic bark making a heroic, if futile, effort to cover the smell of coal and sweat. The Pathfinder Lodge above the smithy resembles an adventurer’s boarding house, providing an excellent cover for the comings and goings of the Society’s agents. A door to a kitchen opens, and a soot-smudged dwarf dressed in a leather apron steps out: Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine. The dwarf’s gestures brusquely to a table within the kitchen, his hands wiped passably clean of the ash and grease of his trade. An assortment of bread, cheese, and cider has been set out on the table for refreshments, as is a bizarre doll made of dried wheat stalks.
“Hope the journey went well.” Smine greets. “Dangerous these days. More dangerous further west, so suppose I shouldn’t complain.” His short sentences almost matching the staccato cadence of the forges below. “Won’t waste your time. Ever heard of the Mosquito Witch?”
Smine grins and leans across the table, picking up the grotesque doll. Beady, painted red eyes and a needle-like snout is barely visible through shaggy wheat-stalk hair, and six handless arms are clutched to the doll’s chest. “Locallegend. Ugly thing. People claim it lives near a town out here called Shimmerford. Hunters have been trying to catch it for over fifty years. No one has managed to. Villagers sell the failed hunters dolls and souvenirs instead. Fun for all.” He frowns and sets the doll down.
“Not now, though. Mosquitoes and bloodseekers started plaguing the villagers. Killing livestock. Swarming people outside. Getting into food. Been happening for a year or so. People are starting to leave the town entirely. They blame the Mosquito Witch. I don’t. Doesn’t matter. It’s a problem either way. You’re going to stop it.”
There's a moment of silence before you realize that, Smine has finished his terse briefing and is waiting for any questions you might have.
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Erevan gasps upon hearing of the Mosquito Witch. "Last I've heard, that creature hasn't been spotted for about 60 years now. But I don't find that last spotting very reliable on the fact that eyewitnesses were rather young. Oh dear, how do we stop something so mysterious?" He tries to steady himself as the clanking of his bottles become more audible because of his shaking. "Can you lead us to where the most recent incident occurred?"
"Well, this thing sounds positively horrendous. Even if the Mosquito Witch isn't the culprit, it sounds like you're in need of some exterminators. Perfect task for us, I'd say!" The cheery half-elven woman is obviously raring to go.
Attach When a bloodseeker hits a target larger than itself, its barbed legs attach it to that creature. This is similar to grabbing the creature, but the bloodseeker moves with that creature rather than holding it in place. The bloodseeker is flat-footed while attached. If the bloodseeker is killed or pushed away while attached to a creature it has drained blood from, that creature takes 1 persistent bleed damage. Escaping the attach or removing the bloodseeker in other ways doesn’t cause bleed damage.
Blood Drain (Single Action) Requirements The bloodseeker is attached to a creature. Effect The bloodseeker uses its proboscis to drain blood from the creature it’s attached to. This deals 1d4 damage, and the bloodseeker gains temporary Hit Points equal to the damage dealt. A creature that has its blood drained by a bloodseeker is drained 1 until it receives healing (of any kind or amount).
Smine scratches his head when asked about the Witch, and pulls out a wheat-stalk doll. “Looks like this.” Smine wiggles the doll. “Missing the wings, though folks disagree about that piece. People claimed to see it a while back. Some claim they saw it more recently. No one’s proved it. No one’s caught it. No one’s sure what it is. Would be exciting if we found out.” Smine smiles wryly. “Don’t expect us to.”
"I won't be leading you. Problem is in Shimmerford, down the river a piece. Once you arrive, find Galia. Gnome. Hard to miss. Not a Pathfinder. Knows me, though. Knows we fix problems. She’s the one who sent a letter about the situation. Would have a better idea of the situation on the ground. After that, find what’s causing the problem. Stop it. Report back.”
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Erevan takes down important notes from Smine's accounts and takes out his alchemist's tools. "Let's see, we'll need to prepare well for today's investigation."
The elf's demeanor suddenly changes to a more serious tone. He opens his formula book and pores over the ingredients of his elixirs. After a few minutes of measuring and brewing, he fills up four bottles of his concoctions.
"There! That should do," the elf says as he puts the elixirs in his pack. "Don't mind the smoke, it'll be gone in a few seconds. Sorry about that."
"Galia. Got it. Well then, let's not waste any more of the beautiful daylight! I'm eager to get out of this smoky place and see the sky!"
To Erevan, she turns and giggles. "Silly, there was already so much smoke in here from the forges out there, yours barely registered!"
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"Bloodseekers remind me of vermin in the jungles of Mwangi," Chulyin says. "They are vicious and persistent. If they sink their proboscis--nose, after a fashion--into you, it is better to pull them off before killing them as you will continue to bleed through the part of them left in you. However, dead is dead."
He gestures at the jaguar, to languidly rises from the floor. "I will stop by the stores to gather some scrolls and maybe stop at the shops on our way out of town."
Having concluded his business with you, the venture-captain directs you to a boat that he has hired for your trip to Shimmerford. As a parting to you, he says, "I’d stay inside while traveling. Clouds of mosquitoes are hanging by the shore and above the water. Doesn’t sound pleasant.”
You travel to Shimmerford without any incident, though as you approach,
thick clouds of mosquitoes hanging over the shoreline become more prominent, until the earth seems covered with writhing black masses of flying insects.
When you disembark from the boat, a gnome with blueberry-blue hair and copper skin emerges from a tiny house that has been mosquito-proofed with cloth and wax crammed into every crack and seam. She hurries over
to greet you, wringing her hands and swatting away any mosquitoes that come near her.
“Oh, thank goodness! Oh, thank goodness! You actually came! Smine actually sent someone! You must be them, right? No one comes here a-anymore unless they’re planning to help! Do you want to talk inside? My house is mostly mosquito free! Can I get you anything? My beet juice is also [b]mostly[/i] mosquito-free! Would you like to sit down? A fresh haircut, maybe? Oh, thank goodness you’re here!”
Miranda quickly moves into the house, not wanting to be bitten up. "I'm so sorry to hear that you're dealing with so many pesky insects! Hopefully we can help!"
The energetic gnome goes into a sneezing fit when she inhales a small cloud of mosquitoes that flies too close to her face.
"P-please--cough, cough--my house. Arg!"
When you arrive at her home you find a tiny house, cramped even for gnome living, but everyone manages to cram themselves inside. The gnome pulls the door shut behind you and stuffs the doorjamb with rags to seal any small cracks.
a small number of insects still buzz through the air, but it is at least safe to breathe inside.
"My name is Galia, by the way. I'm s-so glad you've come. I'll answer as many of your questions as I can, but we--the townsfolks of Shimmerford, that is--haven't been able to figure out the root of our problem very well."
In answer to Fin-Thir's questions, she says, “W-well, you probably noticed the mosquitoes. There’ve been a lot of bloodseekers, too. Those are mosquitoes that are as big as your heads! The little ones are bad enough, but the big ones have been driving people out of the town. One even carried off poor Mrs. McClairby’s cat, and some of them killed all of Mr. Rujat’s prize cattle. It’s been really, really, really awful around here!"
"As far as taking you someplace, here you are! The attacks have been happening all over town. I haven't seen anything beyond b-big b-bugs myself, but some of the other townsfolk might have. Those townsfolk that are left, anyway. Most everyone has left. I haven't given anyone a trim in a week!"
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Chulyin disembarks with a word of thanks to their ferryman. He lifts the wayfinder from his belt and shows the carved wooden lid to the gnome. Almost immediately he drops it and swats a mosquito--or ten--on his neck. "Inside would be perfect," he agrees.
The jaguar leaps gracefully off of the boat and follows along. His ears flick with annoyance at the buzzing and tickling, even if he is mostly spared from the bites.
Chulyin sighs once they escape the bulk of the mosquito army, swatting the few clinging to his face. "Has anyone found a nest? For the bloodseekers, I mean. Or some body of standing water large enough to foster them."
Galia thinks about the answers to your questions as she squeezes past you to pour some (mostly mosquito-free) juice for you.
"We haven't found any nests, though there are many pools in the forest. Maybe there is something wrong with one of them? As for who is left in town..."
Galia sketches out a map of town and describes the remaining residents to you.
A1. Galia’s House: "So, this is where we are..."
A2. Hart’s Brewery: "The brewer, Rosa Hart, lives there."
A3. The Bell Family: "I don't think the Bells have been able to leave. They couldn't afford passage out of town, or so they say."
A4. Mordha Lyons’ House: "Morha Lyons lives here. S-she's one of the people who originally saw the Mosquito Witch!"
A5. The Tanner: "The T-tanner's name is Tanner. It gets a little confusing!"
A6. The Whitefish and Stag: "That's the local inn. The innkeeper was still there, last time I checked, but the town doesn't get many visitors these days."
A7. Ruza’s House: "Miss Ruza lives there, but I don't think she's taking visitors. Really, uh, keeps to herself."
A8. Braybon’s Smithy: "Luca Braybon's smithy is probably the least mosquito-y place in town, but I don't like the smoke."
A9. Marmazine’s House: "The baker lives here, Anna Marmazine. She's probably going to stay in town as long as there are people to buy bread."
A10. Shrine to Hanspur: "There aren't many worshipers here, but it's just a little riverside shrine, anyway."
A11. Abandoned Farm: "After the livestock started dying, the farmer took what he could carry and left in his cart."
"Either place sounds like a good place to start, to me. Do you have any suggestions of ways to keep the bugs off us while we investigate, Galia?"
Galia brushes several mosquitoes off her forehead, which you notice is already covered in bites. "There are so m-many of them. We haven't been able to come up with any good solutions. Even get under your clothes and armor."
You make your way through the small town, pestered by insects the whole way. By the time you reach Mordha Lyons' small house on the west side of town, you have mosquito bites on most of your exposed skin. No sooner do you brush bugs off than new ones settle on your body.
When you approach the door, a young Tian man with dyed white hair opens it. A look of vague annoyance clouds his face. "Again? This is the third day in a row you have come to pester my charge!"
Explosive Runes!
"As if you did not know! It was you yourselves who have already visited here." The man looks at you with a bit of pity in his eyes. "Have you forgotten already?'
He seems absolutely sincere in his belief that he has seen you before.
"I do not care much for the town, but it would be best if you left us alone quickly. I see that you will make a fuss until you speak with madame. Come, and be quick about it."
The man leads you into a room where a frail old woman wrapped in a blanket sits in a wooden rocking chair. Her hands shake so badly she can barely feed herself, and she doesn’t respond at all to your entrance.
"Yes, I think you must be mistaken, my good friend. We've... never been here before." Miranda gives the man a confused look, and looks ready to pat him on the head but restrains herself.
At the sight of the older woman, Miranda bows deeply. "Hello my lady. I am Miranda. We are here to try to rid your village of the scourge of bugs it has been plagued with as of late."
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"I can assure you that I have not forgotten being here," Chulyin says. "You saw a man such as myself garbed in the skin of beasts and accompanied by my loyal cat, which is certainly not native to this region and would be quite remarkable." He gestures to his jaguar companion.
"Troubling, indeed," he murmurs but is quick enough to accept the invitation inside.
He bows politely to the elderly woman. "Mistress Lyons," he says. "Forgive our intrusion. We hoped that we could bother you to tell us what you recall of the Mosquito Witch."
“It was all just a joke to them,” the old woman says, her voice pinched thin with bitterness. “They pretended to care, a little, when they were all scared that they would be next. Not much, even then.”
“It was up on Witchtop Hill. Up to the north, a little left of the three boulders and past the bend in the stream. We thought it was a dead animal at first, lying on the ground. It was when we got close that it sprung up, tall as a full-grown man. Came after us on its thin little legs. Didn’t matter how fast we ran, it was right behind us. I thought my heart would burst with the running. It was only when we got to town that we dared to look back. But we didn’t find it. Just sharp footprints in the mud, and smears of sickly sweet blood."
“And them, with their masks and their dolls and their festivals. They didn’t know what it was like. To have it in their dreams at night,
to wake up with its little paper dolls by the bed. If they’d seen it, they’d never have dared. They don’t know what it’s like to see its eyes in every filthy little bug, for the whining of those insects to be like screaming in my ears.”
Mordha clams her mouth shut, before speaking again, in a trembling tone. “It took something from me. And I don’t remember it. I don’t remember it. No one will ever remember it.”