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Deciding to brazen it out, the party collects all of the refugees early, and head to the docks, issuing them with 'new' travel papers.
There, you lines of people waiting to proceed through the checkpoint and board nearby ships. Two Emerald guards are stationed there, showing obvious enjoyment in their work as they go through the papers of potential travellers, looking for excuses to 'levy taxes'.
As your turn in the line approaches, and everyone gets out their travel papers, a great gust of wind blasts across the docks, threatening to rip passports from passenger's hands!
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Before they arrive at the docks, Adalan asks Garrla, "Can you use your rank as an Emerald Guard to help convince the other guards to let us through, or will it make them more suspicious that someone like you is trying to leave the city? And do you have any way of proving you're not a plant who'll turn us in as soon as we hit a checkpoint?"
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Through a combination of quick reflexes on the part of Deshacerla, Adalan, Hannah, and Mara, and quick thinking on the part of Dran'Thor (who manages to shield two refugees), none of the papers go flying.
The older of the two Emerald Guards looks vaguely disappointed, and goes over your travel papers with a fine-tooth-comb...
...but unable to spot anything out of the ordinary, is reluctantly forced to let you go, without shaking you down!
Once past the guards at the docks, the party and remaining refugees are able to slip out of Edasseril without further detection. Aboard the Merry Mayfly, they sail, unmolested to Magnimar. Once there, they meet with Sheila Heidmarch and Valais Durant to discuss the outcome of their mission and receive expressions of warm gratitude from the refugees they helped.
The freed refugees are grateful to the Pathfinder Society for their freedom and most pledge their services and good will for the benefit of the Society in the years to come. For his part, Guaril is appreciative of your efforts, but is eager to recover his portion of payment.
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The party is summoned to a private audience with Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury within the Starrise Spire in the city of Nerosyan.
A silent halfling in a hooded robe leads you to a chamber near the top of the spire and departs with a solemn nod, leaving you to your meeting. Jorsal’s study is a small, tidy room lined with bookcases and furnished with an altar in its eastern corner.
A mail-suited man kneels on the stone floor with his back to the door, his head bowed in obeisance as he murmurs his evening prayer. As the door creaks shut, he stands and turns to acknowledge his visitors.
“Well met, Pathfinders. I am Jorsal of Lauterbury, Venture- Captain of the Starrise Spire. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay in Nerosyan thus far—a short visit, regrettably, that is now at its end. Tomorrow, you travel north to rendezvous with my friend Selik, a representative of the Farheaven clan. Selik awaits you within a trading post at the crossroads, where you are to exchange supplies and information.”
Jorsal beckons his guests toward a high table strewn with rolls of parchment, broken quills, and pots of ink. He gently sweeps the items to one side, revealing a painstakingly detailed map, inked in his own hand, of the Sarkoris Scar and its surrounding lands. Jorsal thumbs a spot south of what was once the Worldwound and continues, “This is your destination. I cannot rely on mere couriers for this errand, as miles of dangerous country lie between Nerosyan and this site. The demons’ foul influence still lingers in some parts of these accursed lands. I’ve hired a wagon to bear you and the supplies to the trading post. Your driver is a stalwart woman who’s made the journey many times. She’s prepared to depart tomorrow at first light.”
Jorsal pauses to study his map and absentmindedly traces a finger along the route from Nerosyan to the crossroads. [b]“Your task is simple, but I warn you to stay vigilant, and report any unusual occurrences to me.”
He then hands over a note.
"Any questions?"
Both Adalan and Mara are aware that, though management has changed over the decades, Devil’s Rest is a well-known trading post and inn that never turns a guest away. Crusaders, travellers, and even fleeing criminals have enjoyed the post’s frontier hospitality in the past. The rumour that the trading post was founded by an exiled Chelaxian noble is true.
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“The wagon I mentioned is loaded with supplies we’re donating to Sarkorian reclamation efforts around the Scar. As leaders of the project, the Farheaven clan chose to send Selik to speak on their behalf. You’ll be exchanging reports with him, as well as delivering these supplies.”
“Selik is a son of the legendary Farheaven clan. The followers of Dolok Darkfur may seem strange friends for crusaders like myself, but time and again they’ve proven their mettle. Selik is no exception. He’s headstrong and impetuous, but you won’t find a better scout or a better shot with a bow. His strength in battle aside, I think you might enjoy his company. Even if you don’t, treat him with respect—he and his family are crucial allies to the Society.”
"Hey Venture Boss, you got lots of those cold iron arrows up on the rooftops. Want to give us some for this job?"
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Jorsal raises an eyebrow, and shakes his head sadly.
"I am afraid not. That said, I am sure you could find a merchant in town to sell you some."
Jorsal nods to Dran'Thor.
“Though the Worldwound closed years ago, only fools believe the demons were driven out of the surrounding lands entirely. Some of the wild creatures still bear the Abyssal corruption, and the lawless roads are crawling with brigands.” Jorsal motions to the illustrated forest around the trading post. “I’ve heard rumors of even darker things in these woods. It’s best to be on your guard.”
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The day following yout briefing with Venture-Captain Jorsal, the party set out at first light to rendezvous with Selik Farheaven. You travel north in a hired horse-drawn wagon from Nerosyan. Your driver is a taciturn human woman who wears her hood pulled low over her weathered face. She tersely introduces herself as Maeri and insists on embarking immediately.
Your route takes them through miles of wilderness along an uneven dirt road. The journey is unpleasant; the road is rough, and the wagon constantly bounces. The only sound besides the whistling wind outside is Maeri’s shouted commands to her horses, urging them to ever-greater speed; it is clear that she is eager to make this journey as quickly as possible. As the days drags on, Maeri drives the horses hard and isn’t apt to stop for anything except an emergency. If you peer out of the wagon’s curtained windows, you notice that the landscape subtly warps as you travel farther north, with deformed, gnarled tree trunks creeping along the ground rather than upward, riverbeds stagnant with greenish-black sludge, and disturbing animal calls that sound like human screams emanating from the overgrown brush.
At midday on the last day, Maeri stops near a polluted stream to tend
to her horses. She carries her own canteens and refuses to allow you or her animals to approach the nearby water. During the stop, you encounter a fellow traveler named Kellvan, who introduces himself as an inspector
from Nerosyan, currently on business. Presenting his badge, he asks about your destination, and the contents of your wagon, before nodding, and continuing on his way.
A few hours later, the trail crosses through a thick forest of mutated trees. The horses inexplicably rear and whinny, bringing the wagon to a halt. Maeri disembarks to soothe her beasts and free them from their tangled harnesses. As the PCs enjoy a brief respite from the bumpy ride, movement stirs in the overgrown hedges surrounding the dirt road, and three huge boars, each the size of a horse, burst from the undergrowth!
Thorax (-)
Deshacerla (-)
DB (-, -, -)
Bair (-)
Adalan (-)
Dran'Thor (-)
Mara (-)
The big-belly goblin lets out a loud, preemptive burp and shouts, "DINNER!!"
Thorax narrows his eyes and grins that evil grin that goblins do when things go their way. He stows his shortbow, then sneaks through the bushes for an ambush.
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Adalan moves past Deshacerla and into the bushes in order to get a clear line of sight to the boars. He utters a sibilant incantation and twists his hands in an elaborate gesture, causing a white-hot spark to shimmer into existence next to the foreleg of the lead animal. The spark rapidly expands, darkening in color as it grows until a reddish-orange ball of fire several feet in diameter engulfs the boar's leg.
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Oh, no! says the dwarf when he hears the Thorax speaking from dinner. They didn't have to fight these animals. The druid was pretty sure he could have calm them down to bypass them with fight. Now it's clearly a plan that he can forget.
Well he will try a new spell fare away enough not to hurt Bair who already run for close combat.
Fireball:
Then he asks Little cat to attack the first one.
Nature, command DC 18, assurance: 10+9=19
Then the animal pounces.
Pounce:
Damage:
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Adalan conjures a ball of flame...
...which the boar neatly avoids.
Dran'Thor then conjures a ball of fire...
...and starts roasting some pork!
His cat pounces, but misses.
Thorax moves into the bushes...
Deshacerla shields Bair.
Bair then charges forward, and smacks the closest boar!
Mara draws her shortsword, moves forward, and takes a swing...
...landing a solid blow.
Viewing the tiger as a predator, all three boars try to drive it off...
...dropping it into merciful unconsciousness, as they gore at it.
DB (-45, -21, -21)
Adalan (-)
Dran'Thor (-)
Tiger (-60; Unconscious)
Mara (-)
Thorax (-)
Deshacerla (-)
Bair (-)
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Adalan rolls his flaming ball over Red...
...who once again dodges.
Purple, on the other hand, is not so lucky when it comes to the electrical discharge, squealing in pain and alarm!
Deshacerla then weaves a protective ward over Bair.
DB (-54, -39, -21)
Adalan (-)
Dran'Thor (-)
Tiger (-60; Unconscious)
Mara (-)
Thorax (-)
Deshacerla (-)
Bair (-)
Stupid pigs didn't come close enough.
Thorax does his best to sneak through the bushes and leaps out at [cyan] with his shortsword!
vs FF?
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Seeing Dran-Thor's discomfort at once again fighting nature, Mara glances back at him. "Pretty sure normal boars don't have glowing red eyes. Nothing natural about that."
Speaking of glowing red eyes, she quickly snatches a small handful of dust and throws it into the eyes of the boar directly in front of her.
As it blinks and snorts, she slashes at it with her sword.
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Dran'Thor Stabilises the cat.
Mara temporarily blinds Purple, and then stabs it, causing it to squeal!
As it dies, it lashes out...
...lacerating her.
Thorax Sneaks forward, and stabs Cyan...
...and then Bair finishes the job, clobbering it into submission!
However, once again, it gores as it dies...
...but weakened as it is, misses.
The final Boar goes for Mara...
...landing a single hit with its bloody tusks!
DB (-54)
Adalan (-)
Dran'Thor (-)
Tiger (-60; Unconscious)
Mara (-32)
Thorax (-)
Deshacerla (-)
Bair (-)
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The boar avoids the worst of Dran'Thor's blast, but it is still enough to drop it.
It takes a vindictive swipe at Mara as it does so, but, slipping on its own blood, fails to connect.
Your driver unceremoniously lands you two leather flasks containing a moderate healing potions.
"You did good!"
There is also a crate previously abandoned by a traders’ caravan in the ditch beside the road. The crate contains bundles of damask silk and embroidered satin (worth 20 gp).
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Loading the cat into the back of the cart (if you wish to expend healing resources, feel free!), you finally reach the crossroads as afternoon fades into dusk. Devil’s Rest is a weathered two-story log building that overlooks the intersection from atop a nearby knoll. Twin brick chimneys protrude from its bark shingle roof. A vegetable garden and wooden hitching post occupy the yard to either side of the dirt path, which leads to a covered porch. A stable and outhouse are positioned discreetly behind the building.
Having delivered her charges safely to the trading post, Maeri bids you goodnight and unhitches her horses from the wagon before leading them around back to the stable.
There are a number of people gathered in the common room:
An imperious-looking woman dressed like a Chelaxian noblewoman sits at one of the tables, poring over some papers; she essentially ignores your arrival.
A blonde woman in a loose, diaphanous gown, fringed with small silver occult symbols, who waves at you.
"Welcome travelers! Have you come far? I'm Dehliana, a humble practitioner of the occult arts. Once you have settled in, I would be happy to perform a Harrow reading for you!"
Kellvan, the investigator that you encountered earlier.
Everyone except Deshacerla notices that Kellvan is only pretending to drink from his ale-mug, and his eyes never leave the Harrower.
There is also a stoutly built human, who looks strikingly reminiscent of a 7-foot-tall dwarf, with a barrel chest, broad brow, and well-groomed black beard, who is mopping down the floor.
"Welcome! I'm - Nordvick; the current caretaker. There should be a room available upstairs, if you need one..."
Finally, there is a young man with golden eyes, who waves you over as soon as he sees you.
"Hello! You must be the Pathfinders; I'm Selik. It's nice to meet you!"
Demon-tainted trichinosis! Of COURSE Thorax will slice that up!
---------- later on... ----------
Thorax sees the Harrower and his eyes grow big. He clambers up for a seat and attempts to fiddle with the picture cards.
"You see future, yes? Where biggest treasure for Thorax?"
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Bair looks around at his body after the boars fall. There are no new scars, "Hmmm..."
His eyes go wide and he turns to DC, "YOU MADE ME INVEEENCIBLEEE! DODAT ALLDATIME NOW PLEASE!"
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He has little to do at the bar, other than order drinks and begin drinking them.
Thorax slaps a bloody boar steak on the table.
"Here be dinner,
Eat up quick!
Hope fortune's good,
Which cards do I pick?"
to Make an Impression
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Noting Kellvan's wariness of Dehliana, Adalan sizes her up and tries to determine if there really is anything suspicious about the occultist.
He then directs his attention to Selik. "Greetings. We're glad to meet you as well, and to finally be somewhere relatively safe. We had an unfortunate run-in with some rather unusual boars on the way here. I hope there haven't been any similarly demonic incidents here at the crossroads? Anyway, I'm Adalan, and the supplies we're here to deliver are in the wagon outside."
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Bair is indeed able to tie one on at the bar.
Thorax's display causes the noblewoman to wrinkle her nose in distaste, then go back to her books, whilst the medium jumps, and lets out a shrill squeak.
The caretaker, however, doesn't react, giving every impression that he has seen far worse in the past.
"Certainly Sir. I'll cook it up for you."
Adalan doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
Selik is more than willing to trade tales with the party (some of them undoubtedly quite tall!).
"Demonic boars? Par for the course around here, I am afraid. Thanks to our great patron, however, our tribe has been doing fine; your supplies will just make things easier. Speaking of, have a round of drinks on me!"
At about this point, Annavinia, Dehliana, and Kellvan depart for their rooms. Nordvick disappears into the kitchen to prepare a dinner of roast boar and root vegetables while Selik holds court at the bar, passionately discussing reclamation efforts with his new friends over glasses of brandy. The group reconvenes to share a communal meal in the common room, except for Kellvan, who retired early.
After dinner, Dehliana places a velvet satchel on the dinner table and retrieves some of her ritual tools, including tapered candles, a silver dousing rod, and a mahogany planchette. She proposes conducting a séance to entertain the group. Selik is particularly enthusiastic about witnessing a medium commune with spirits, and Annavinia also reluctantly agrees to take part in the séance. Nordvick avoids the group by clumsily clearing away plates and anxiously tidying the already spotless common room.
Eventually, Dehliana lights the final candle and settles into a chair at the head of the table. “Place your fingertips on the planchette. The spirits will speak to us through this quill. Remember, friends, I am here as nothing more than a guide,” she murmurs, gesturing for the participants to follow her lead. Her shoulders relax and she rests her fingertips on the planchette. “Spirits, make your presence known and enlighten us from beyond the veil.”
The room is silent for a few moments. The table rattles as the sound of unintelligible whispers gathers in the air. Dehliana gasps when the planchette moves beneath her fingers, tracing a lazy path against the parchment beneath it. “Spirits, are you with us?” She inquires.
The planchette twitches and jerks of its own volition, darting out from under Dehliana’s fingers. In shaky, cramped handwriting, it scrawls the word, “Yes.” Dehliana smiles and turns to face the group gathered around her. “If you have questions for this peaceful spirit, now is the time to ask...”
Adalan recognises that her display is a harmless, but entertaining, fraud - enhanced by Ghost Sound, Mage Hand, and Prestidigitation. Additionally, he notices that the symbol embroidered on Dehliana’s satchel is the religious symbol of Razmir.
At the height of her display, however, something occurs which Adalan cannot explain: A gust of wind blows through the common room, extinguishing all non-magical light sources. The building shakes, rattling the windows and doors and knocking the planchette off the table!
At this point, the brass candelabra on the mantelpiece flickers back to life, and reveals a wizened man draped in bloodstained robes standing in the center of the common room. The apparition bellows, He raises a trembling finger to point at each guest in turn.
The exterior doors and windows of the trading post seal themselves shut immediately following the ghost’s pronouncement. Any attempts to cut through the walls or break down any doors or windows — both those leading outside and those between rooms — reveals that the structure not only instantly repairs any wound inflicted on it faster than the characters are able to damage it, but also foils more unusual attempts to cross it, such as using teleportation. It would appear that you are trapped inside the haunted house...
Pandemonium immediately breaks out!
Nordvick goes ashen grey, and starts mumbling to himself.
Dehliana gathers her things in a practiced motion, and hides in the middle of the party, reasoning that is probably the safest place.
Annavinia (the Chelish noblewoman) screeches, and runs away!
Selik is quite sanguine about all of this, looking at it as more of an interesting lark, than a life-or-death situation, and tags along with the group.
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During the journey the dwarf treat the little cat’s wounds.
Nature, natural médecine, treat wounds DC20, assurance and +2 because in the nature: 10+9+2=21
Damage healed:
Then he follows what happens in the house stroking his beard.
Come on. We must explore this house to try to understand something in this mess.
Thorax thoroughly enjoys the game of 'spin the planchette', and continues eating throughout the night (long after everyone else has finished).
He cowers as the ghostly man makes his accusations, and pleads from under the table, "It wasn't me! Probably. Maybe. But not for a while! All you Longshanks look alike!"
When the apparition disappears, Thorax's lack of object permanence displays itself as he humorously carves faces into the wooden doors and walls, only to see them erase themselves each time.
When the group ultimately grabs him by the collar and drags him away, he sets to doing rogue things and searches the door for traps.