GM Litejedi's Curse of the Crimson Throne - Anniversary Edition

Game Master Litejedi

Korvosa Hinterlands Map you can use.

Neolandus shakes his head, "the wilds - keep to the wilds. We can't be seen, not even in Harse, not until we get to the ranch." Vencarlo rummages through some of the things he has in his reclaimed bag, and retrieves a small, dull silver amulet which he hands to his friend. "this'll prevent scrying, and such." The seneschal nods and puts it on. So, the party travels north across the grassland and low hills towards Harse, through the wilds. Harse is about 45 miles away, so I'll assume a speed of 30 while traveling, or, about 5.5 days.

The trip is uneventful, though camping is not particularly pleasant, somehow Neolandus had some hidden skill at surviving in the wilds and food and water are sufficient, though roughing it certainly is not what the party is used to. Soon they reach the place where the Sarwin River merges with the Falcon River.

Venarlo retrieves a disguise kit, and says "okay - we will use the ferry service, but break up our crossing according to a random schedule." It's clear he's thought carefully during the trip about how to get to the Blackbird Ranch. "There are guard patrols, and we can't be seen." He gestures towards Kaliyah, "I assume you can take care of the matter on your own?" as he smiles slightly.

Soon enough, the identifying armor and weapons are all packed away as everyone prepares out of sight of the road and ferry. Vencarlo retrieves a set of dice, and rolls them a few times, thinking carefully. He points at various people and assigns them roles, "you, a newlywed couple." to Marcus and Magda, "Kaliyah, you're taking your aunt on a pilgrimage" and to Aru, "the three of us are merchants. We're going to stagger our crossing by a few hours each. Here are the disguises." His kit has some rubber noses, makeup, wigs, and other things, and he's soon able to get everyone situated, though he leaves Kaliyah to resolve the disguise on her own. People do not look much like each other.

Following his advice, the party passes through the ferry and through Harse. They make their presence known, and join up again at the outskirts, off of the road and head north of the village.

After the organization, but still wearing the disguises, a thirty-minute walk north of town along the Sarwin river finds the party at a moderately sized horse ranch sitting comfortably in the cleft of two low hills topped with small copses of fir trees. This is Blackbird Ranch. Near the entrance is a barrel-chested man with black hair and mutton-chops, wearing suspenders. Next to him stands a woman in her early-teens with short, blond hair, and an infectious grin, unmistakably Trinia Sabor, though she seems to be somewhat better 'equipped' she seems to be wearing some fancy armor and magic items and has a few scars on her arms, and a small one on her face and neck. She waves slightly at everyone as they approach, and whispers something to the man she's near, who nods.

The man cheerfully calls over, "ahh, y'all must be interested in those horses - come, come, sit a spell and rest your bones, and we can have a discussion." He gestures for everyone to follow. Trinia seems tight-lipped, uncharacteristically, and the party follows Jasan into the barn. He quickly points out a few of his horses that seem young and sturdy, and starts to haggle a bit with the 'merchant' that is Vencarlo, and eventually Jasan sighs, "not gonna be figured out now, maybe some dinner will help. C'mon down into my basement - my dining room ain't big enough, but it's cozy enough down there." He introduces everyone to his wife, who's in the kitchen making supper. With her is the other young woman the party saved, Bethany, who's eyes widen when she sees everyone. Trinia puts her finger to her lips and winks at the other girl, who blinks rapidly, and looks away. Jasan moves over to his wife, and embraces her, and the woman nods, and speaks to Bethany, and the girl turns away. Jasan leads the party downstairs into a large basement with a few overstuffed couches around a low table, along with a long table that has a number of chairs. Once everyone is inside, he closes the doors, shakily, and exhales slowly.

Jasan looks uncomfortable, and grimaces at Vencarlo, who pats him on the shoulder, and turns to the party, "erm - by chance, does anyone have a few... hundred?" He turns to Jasan again, who nods, "500" and Vencarlo turns back, "500 ... gold for our friend, here. He lined all of his basement walls, carefully with lead. Hidden behind panels and such. We can speak freely here, finally." Jasan moves towards the table and motions for the others to sit. Trinia also heads down the basement stairs and performatively flops into one of the couches, resting as she waits for the party to get their bearings.

Vencarlo pats himself down, "I'm afraid what's left of my money went up in smoke with the academy, apologies".

A little cream, hiding her ears in her hair, and keeping her mouth closed makes Mags lose her orcish heritage, almost to a startling degree.

almost human trait comes out for the first time!

Her continued quiet also helps sell her role in the disguise, a demure 'bride' for the rough not Wall. She even manages to not flinch when he touches her shoulder or grasps her arm.

At the request for funds, Mags slips off her magical pack and counts out the coin needed, handing it over without a fuss other than a nod of thanks for his work.

She runs her hands along the table, missing knowing what it thinks of never seeing the sunlight.

Yaziyah snorts at the idea of Marcus as a newlywed, then sobers a little as she remembers certain conversations with his second-in-command. While the woman might not be looking to wed him, clearly the man was not without his charms... for some. That memory stirs up memories of Korvosa and its people - some of them dead now - and she does her best to not let her grief and anger bleed into her "performance" as a stiff-backed, prim auntie going to the market alongside her "niece".

Once they reach the ranch she takes in the sights with curiosity, breathing shallowly to avoid the stink of manure and gods know what else. The streets of Korvosa were hardly fragrant, but those were smells she was used to. The blonde girl didn't look like a farmer to her, and she thinks she catches a few significant looks between her and some other people in the group, but leaves it well alone until they are in the basement.

Marcus, in disguise, awkwardly pats Magda's shoulder like a dog, with a pained grimace that is his attempt at a lover's smile.

It would have perhaps been a better disguise to simply throw a tarp over him.

Once at the safe room, Marcus nods to his bride-to-be's handing over of the money. He was sick of all the subterfuge and would happily pay for a safe room at this point.

Knowledge (geography): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

"Hey girl, how are you doing?" Aru asks Trinia and gives her a hug, then Goro shakes her hand. "Looks like you've got some extra scars here and there, uh? Don't advise being hit in the first place."

Since she's been out of the armor, Kaliyah has been affectionate, soft-spoken and mild-mannered with everyone, a stark contrast to the time she spends in the armor. That all changes when she spots the old aquaintance.

Don't advise being hit in the first place."[/b]

"Or being stabbed." Kali says pointedly.

The long-suppressed memory of Kaliyah's first encounter with Trinia and the tiem she stabbed her, ran from her and got her all flustered comesing floods back to her with a sharp pang. For a moment, her posture stiffens and her eyes narrow slightly as she observes the now-better-equipped Trinia. The scars don't escape her attention, but neither does the confident demeanor.

Kaliyah does not offer Trinia a hug. She folds her arms across her chest and says evently "Trinia. It’s been a long time." Her tone is measured, with only a hint of the simmering frustration from the past that she's been unable to let go of now that it's resurfaced.

Marcus shakes his head at the tenseness between Kali and Trinia. He's had men plot his death that he now works with. Does take time though. And Trinia already seem unbothered; judging by the new collection of scars she's had more attempts at opening her flesh lately so Kali's transgression may not even be in her recent memory anymore.

"Looks like you've got some extra scars here and there, uh? Don't advise being hit in the first place."

Marcus's frown turns into a sneer. "We don't all have the luxury of occupying the back line."

Trinia looks confused. The disguise Kaliyah has is incredibly effective. It’s only after the woman dismisses some of the mundane and pseudo-magical effects hiding her identity that the bard, squinting, recognizes her. She smirks, ”huh, you’re the marine.” She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it, shaking her head slightly, and she inhales and exhales. Composing herself, she shrugs and seems to wait for someone else to say something, and doesn’t even bother looking at Kali anymore. The fear and hatred on her face that was so obvious when they last saw Kaliyah and Trinia in the Kroft’s office is gone, either she’s hiding it or suppressing it well, or she let it go. It’s been replaced by indifference.

Vencarlo looks at the exchange and frowns slightly, both at Trinia and Kaliyah, an unsettling expression, given that he’s taken a significant amount of abuse - being captured and tortured, losing his academy, and losing his city - with only a smile on his face. The older to the party known to be a vigilante seems nonplussed.

Neolandus hesitates, watching the exchange, to see how it’ll end, but when nothing further happens, he takes a breath, ”well - here’s what I know. I think Queen Illeosa has found something, something powerful. Why? The evidence:”

He goes on to explain
When Neolandus confronted Queen Ileosa about King Eodred II’s death, her response was to send Red Mantis assassins after him—proof enough of guilt to Neolandus. Through a combination of luck and knowledge of the castle’s layout, Neolandus escaped and went into hiding with his friend Salvator Scream in Old Korvosa.

After he recovered from the attack but before Salvator handed him over to the Arkonas, Neolandus spent much of his time conducting clandestine interviews, poring through records in Endrin Academy, and piecing together rumors to try to determine what caused Queen Ileosa’s sudden personality change from a petulant queen to a scheming tyrant.

Neolandus’s knew that Queen Ileosa had been “borrowing” the treasury key to look through Korvosa’s treasures. Neolandus was also familiar with several old and obscure legends about the rooms below Castle Korvosa— chambers, it was whispered, used to hide something of great power or terrible evil. He’s heard mention of something called “Midnight’s Teeth,” believed to be a sacred relic of great import to the Shoanti. Circumstantial evidence indicates that the Shoanti kept these teeth somewhere inside the pyramid that now serves as Castle Korvosa’s foundation.

Further research uncovered a chilling old legend. Several hundred years ago, a blue dragon agent of ZonKuthon named Kazavon brought the orcs of the Hold of Belkzen to their knees before attacking Ustalav and Lastwall, until he was finally defeated and his remains scattered. According to the legend, some of his body parts, including his fangs, contained fragments of the dragon’s essence.

Neolandus suspects that Midnight’s Teeth and Kazavon’s fangs are one and the same. The description of the queen’s new crown sounds to Neolandus as if she now wears the teeth on her brow, the implications of which trouble him greatly.

Hard facts about Midnight’s Teeth remain sparse, since Korvosa’s founders didn’t think it important to preserve much in the way of Shoanti culture. Yet the Shoanti have very strong oral traditions, and if anyone knows the truth behind Midnight’s Teeth, that truth is doubtless hidden among their historians up in the Cinderlands.

After Neolandus finishes explaining, Vencarlo puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and the seneschal looks weary. The fencing master clears his throat, ”for a number of reasons - mundane and magical - this area is safe, as anywhere near Korvosa can be. So it’s best if Neolandus, with his knowledge of the castle and with the political standing to actually take back Korvosa, remain here for a time. I should do the same. This means that investigating the cinderlands and the storval falls to you. Are you up for it?”

"The Midnight Teeth..."

Lore (Shoanti): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18

Yaziyah shakes her head slowly, sucking her teeth. If anything came to mind about this relic, it was only vague fragments. Her gaze unfocuses as she stares north, through the walls of the ranch. "Let's hope they haven't forgotten the old lore like I have." She clears her throat, looking at Neolandus. "I don't know how the Shoanti up there might receive us. I speak the language, but I don't know all their customs, and... they might not take kindly to me. So, before we go on a very long and perilous journey - are you sure this is the best use of our efforts? Should we not..." She waves a hand vaguely, "plan on how we'll take back the city? Make contact with allies in Korvosa?"

Neolandus hesitates a moment, then shakes his head, ”the Field Marshal and her allies will have to do. There’s few we would trust with this information, and now that you all know my suspicions - well, what would happen if one of you were captured? If the Queen truly has Kazavon’s fangs, as soon as she found out she would kill you.” He says this matter-of-factly.

”Aside from seeming invulnerability, her magical power has likely only increased. The one thing she can’t account for is a way to stop the artifact. Her hubris makes her believe she is untouchable. Let us take advantage of that.” He has an open hand, gesturing to all, ”it likely will be somewhat difficult and unpleasant to leave the city, for many reasons, but can anyone else investigate this? Find a way to destroy the fangs, or at least negate them?”

Marcus grunts in approval of Trinia's handling of the situation. There are more important things at stake here. Hell the woman Marcus is seeing now has stabbed him on more than one occasion, so these two can at least be cordial.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34

Marcus almost considers the vague idea of possibly a faint smile upon hearing the information. "Well, this has just gotten real simple. Power corrupts. Take the crown. If it was controlling her, we're done. If not, take her head too."

However when Neolandus mentions invulnerability his frown returns in full force. "Less simple. Sounds like we have some reading to do."

He pauses.

"Invulnerable, do we know if we can just take it off or not though? Any magic bullshit about making it impossible to take off?"

Neolandus smiles slightly, ”such a thing seems likely, at this point. She may be able to remove it, but I doubt it can be taken from her by force. Furthermore, given this thing’s power - it seems likely that she has some freedom of movement effect. Or, from what I know of her spellcasting, she possibly has that effect otherwise. Since the assassination attempt - she doesn’t leave the castle much, anyway. And as the seneschal, I know that Castle Korvosa is impregnable.” There is confidence and pride in his voice, but it’s almost wistful.

Lore (Kuthanites): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Marcus's frown turns into a sneer. "We don't all have the luxury of occupying the back line."

Goro makes a 'no' with his finger and Aru translates. "It is neither a luxury nor a privilege, but the result of important choices made that culminated to such an advantage. Goro would say."

Aru then busies himself with looking for a cup and then sits on the ground. He takes an old compass from a pocket, opens it and them moves the cup, presumably thanks to some reading he is doing. Once he finds the right spot, the cup fills with water. Aru then touches it with his golden gauntlet, swirls it and takes a sip, followed by him consulting his book. "Hum, did you know the word 'impregnable' has its origin tied to a fortress so well secured that a sieging enemy was unable to break in even after bashing the main gate with a massive ram?" He lies.

Casting Heightened Awareness and Tears to Wine. Taking 10 on Bluff for 22 plus any bonus the GM decides to give me for such plausible tale.

Knowledge (history), heightened awareness, tears to wine: 1d20 + 14 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 14 + 2 + 5 = 23

"I'd rather avoid this trip if possible, just because... it will be a chore and I'm admittedly lazy. So, please, do not interrupt me for ten minutes."

Casting Akashic Communion

The still humanized Mags simply pushes a rock softly with her boot, around in small flips from rough point to wide bulge. She stares at it for moments, then suddenly looks up "You want us to go further away?" there is a creak in her voice, a minor breaking, like thin ice on a puddle.

Marcus starts to partly zone out as the more educated members of the party begin considering their approach, but then his eyes sharpen and his brows furrows in confusion. "I...I think I know where we should go. I'm pretty sure I saw Laori have a painting of some humanoid with blue scales. If this is Zon-Kuthon related, she might know more." He looks as surprised as anybody that he was the one with the insight to start unraveling this mystery.

Marcus retrieves his carved onyx gem, then pauses and frowns. "I've got a cleric of Zon-Kuthon I can contact, but I don't know if the magic will work in this room, and I don't know if we want to risk talking about it outside this room." He looks to the others for their thoughts.

"Right, one of Salvator's paintings? I think I remember it, although I really would rather not." Yaziyah shivers, then raises an eyebrow at Marcus. "It doesn't have to be anything sensitive. We can just say we miss her and would she like to get tea together sometime?" The Shoanti half-grins. "And cookies. She seems like the type to like cookies."

She looks at Aru. "How's your geography? Any towns in the vicinity, or cities?"

Marcus whispers into his stone, and a moment later, he hears a quiet voice, seemingly in a hushed tone someone, speaking back to him, but nobody else can hear what’s being said.

He seems to be concentrating.

Before long, the conversation, such as it is, ends.

Trinia raises her eyebrow throughout the conversation, and eventually raises a hand, "okay - I'm - look, I don't want to be a party pooper, but if this Kazavon character is a follower of... Zon-Kuthon" she whispers, "shouldn't we be careful about, you know, telling her what you're trying to do? Like" she seems to be considering her words, "maybe this friend of yours was looking for ways to bring Kazavon back to life." She shrugs, sheepishly, "just a thought - I don't know her."

Neolandus considers what she says, very carefully - and for a while. Looking at his friend, Vencarlo, adds "I think if they take care, they can avoid 'giving up' too much. Right?" He turns to the party.

Neolandus says slowly, "... I suppose...but -" there is a considerable pause, "I think at this point, we should be very careful about who we trust. Ultimately, we need to, at least, disable these midnight's fangs, if not destroy them. That may not be in her interest."

Marcus soon finds out that Laori is staying in Kaer Maga, which is directly in the path to their destination at the wider Storval Plateau. He makes it clear where the woman is, as far as can be explained. She's staying at Canary House in the Hospice district, but spends time during the day some days at the Burning Brand, which is a tattoo and piercing parlor in the Oriat district.

Jasan has his arms folded, but moves to a corner at this point, and retrieves a satchel, "figure as good a time as any. We got this satchel a few days ago - I'm not sure who sent it - the porter was hooded and such, and retrieved it from a... magic bag. I took a look inside already, here - " he hands it to Vencarlo, who looks inside, and then chuckles, "looks like Cressida still had some strings to pull. How that woman knew where to send this... Here -" and he hands it to the party.

She looks at Aru. "How's your geography?"

"My geography? Oh, I think you are moving way too fast, miss. We've not even had dinner together..." He jokes.

Knowledge (Geography), heightened awareness, tears to wine: 1d20 + 8 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 8 + 2 + 5 = 27

"The Akashic Records are surprisingly vague about Kazavon, but it backs what Neolandus have shared. I've got a sense that records about him were hidden or erased, but that is merely a conjecture." Aru shares, getting to his feet.

"I've heard rumors about the church of The Spanked One actually trying to contain Kazavon, collecting any related artifacts and bringing them to Nidal, But those are just rumors, so take that with a grain of salt."

"I agree it is very likely that the fangs of Kazavon and the Midnight's Teeth are one and the same, but I don't know more about it... and there are likely more artifacts made of other parts, but that is also merely a conjecture."

The party puts the satchel aside to look at later, and Neolandus nods, ”so, it’s settled? It sounds like this church - despite whatever misgivings I’m having, has the same goals we do. I recommend you all are wary about giving up too much. Your friend might be trustworthy, but even trustworthy people make mistakes.”

Aru knows a bit about Kaer Maga, basically the summary page on the wiki. He doesn’t know the tavern but it’s probably easy enough to find.

Vencarlo shrugs, ”but unless she knows everything, you’re probably going to have to go onto the storval - so I would prepare yourselves mentally and physically.”

Trinia sits up, ”well, I mean, I don’t want to impose - but I could help. They’re not looking for me anymore, and …” she fidgets, ”honestly it’s a little boring sitting here. Even if it’s risky, I’d rather take the fight to Illeosa even if it means danger.” She seems serious about this, ”I promise - I can take care of myself in a fight and in the wilds. Some of you - “ she meets some characters’ eyes, ”even liked my jokes - so I could brighten your spirits when times get tough. Plus, I’ve learned a lot of magic that I can use… and got pretty good at throwing daggers.” She retrieves a mithril dagger that you haven’t seen before and tosses it, catching it with expertise.

Trinia tries to catch Aru’s eye, ”I mean, I think Goro would want me, right?” The party briefly discusses things and doesn’t overtly object, so with little to do and limited time, they start to set out moving northeast towards the cliff top city of Kaer Maga. Neolandus and Vencarlo promise to stay out of trouble, and Jasan feeds the party a nice meal. Bethany comes downstairs and chats for a few minutes, thanking the party again for saving her. Trinia hugs her and tells her she’s excited to go on another real adventure, and Bethany blanches, hoping that Trinia stays safe. Jasan grabs some pullout bedrolls and beds, and says ”surviving in the wilds isn’t like the city. I recommend you head to the store in town and stock up.” I hand waved it before with Neolandus, but you’re all city kids and should prepare.[/ooc]

MAgda looks up from her fog as Trinia talks. She manages a brief smile and a nod, agreeing both about the jokes and her joining them. Then her eyes wander again back toward her city.

Yaziyah tilts her chin towards the bag sent by the Field Marshal. "I hope she sent a map. Or does anyone here know how to get to Kaer Maga?" The Shoanti clears her throat, glancing at Jasan before looking away. "Right, supplies. Food, water, a tent or two, probably... tools and such." What did one need on a romp through the inhospitable Storval Plateau?

Survival: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6

Writhing the bag are: a wand of sending with 10 charges, two scrolls of dream, and four scrolls of teleport (CL 12th) for emergency trips back to Korvosa.

The party has seemingly no objections to Trinia coming with them, and so the party moves to the general store. In short order, their magical bags are stuffed with provisions and the party moves to head north northeast towards the cosmopolitan city of Kaer Maga.

Trinia is jolly company, seemingly someone subdued since the last time folks saw her, though she largely speaks with Aru and seemingly, Goro, though she mostly watches the signing that the possessed hand signs and chats with it. She seems to basically ignore Kaliyah, and keeps to herself at night.

The party finds themselves only a day or so from the clifftop city of Kaer Maga, about an hour from the village of Sirathu, which until 4663 was a holding of the city state of Kaer Maga itself. Aru knows that like most of the holdings they’ve passed near and through, Korvosa itself has successfully claimed the holding, and the party is reminded that the city-state they approach has not always been on the best of terms with Korvosa.

The hinterlands are a mix of hilly plains, with low valleys carved from ancient rivers that once brought sediment down from the Cinderlands when the storval was not as barren. There still remain streams and rivers, such as the Yondabakari, which flow from the Cinderlands, but the rich soil below the plateau points to a more verdant time.

Magda snaps out of her haze for a moment, noticing three winged creatures flying low to the ground and approaching in a haphazard way, from the south. The party prepares itself as best as it can, but the creatures, soon recognizable as hippogriffs, do not immediately land.

Trinia looks up and seems surprised, ”that’s interesting- what are they doing?”

Goro gives Trinia a thumbs up when she asks if he wants her to come.

As they leave to buy supplies, Aru points out some choices, specially about the need to heavy cloaks, veils and hats to block the scorching sun and the biting wind of the plateau. "You city folks will love it." He lies.

---

As the hippogriffs approach, Aru squints his eyes against the sun to try to figure out what is happening.

Knowledge (arcana): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (5) + 14 = 19
Perception: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (13) + 21 = 34

Aru knows hippogriffs are not uncommon in the area. Nobody knows their origin, but being a hybrid of an eagle and a horse, they tend to move in herds for safety against the more solitary griffon hunters to dissuade the griffons from making a meal out of them. They can fly, and have some natural attacks, but are otherwise unremarkable (for magical beasts) with no special defenses or attacks. This current behavior is not abnormal.

Trinia looks up and seems surprised, ”that’s interesting- what are they doing?”

"Sizing us up." Marcus casually reaches into a side pocket of his backpack, pulling out a whistle. He places it in his lips, then draws his bow and knocks an arrow. "If you've got flashy magic, now's the time. See if we can make them reconsider us as worth fighting." He draws back, aiming high, and holds the string, eyes following the flying creatures.

Yaziyah begins clapping her hands as she murmurs an incantation. With each clap, the sound of thunder erupts, growing progressively louder until the rumbling sounds overlap each other in a deafening noise.

Casting Ghost Sound.

Kali holds up a hand, and moves to lower Marcus’ bow. ”Hey, just - hold on,” she comments as she watches the hippogriffs float over lazily. They pass over the party, and swoop around - circling for a moment before descending, and then landing cautiously on a patch of grass nearby.

The three hippogriffs fold their wings, and one seems to be smaller than the others. Kaliyah looks with a start and says quietly, to herself, ”Falcor?”

She blinks rapidly, and starts to approach the three slowly, hands extended outwards. One of the hippogriffs seems to have scars in various places - missing feathers, and one milky eye. The other eye peers at Kaliyah, and claws at the ground, making a quiet cry, ”kreeeew”

Kaliyah turns back to everyone, ”it - it’s Falcor! My old hippogriff!” She turns back and keeps approaching slowly. The other hippogriff regards her warily, and the smaller one - with wonder, snorting for a moment before it scrambles behind Falcor, obviously nervous.

Will let the interlude play out more when SL is available, just wanted to move on.

*************

The remainder of the trip to Kaer Maga is uneventful, but the looming cliff of the storval plateau is unmistakable as the height grows and grows with every passing step. In short order, the overhanging City of Strangers becomes more than a blemish on the otherwise rocky natural cliff wall, and it becomes omnipresent in the party’s field of view.

The party joins a path leading to one of a few different ways up, and sees more travelers and signs of habitation than they have otherwise encountered in their recent travels. Folks seem to be traveling towards and from Kaer Maga, and while not aggressive, they aren’t particularly friendly. They are mostly humans and halflings, but the ‘accepting’ nature of the city shows its nature with a handful of other, more exotic folk, use your imagination, but… including at least one small bearded troll - wearing a set of robes and jewelry, and holding a staff - as he hobbles along, attended by what appear to be human servants.

The party has only a small understanding of the nature of how to access the city, though Aru has visited once or twice before from atop the plateau (in a former life), access from the bottom is a different story.

The cliffs of the storval have guides that will help travelers ascend and descent - a motley crew of different people of various ancestries that eke out a living in the tough environment (which seems to be getting tougher - it seems to grow more arid, and there’s a warm wind blowing down on the party from the Cinderlands which turns the lush, verdant moors into something more akin to a craggy plain).

The party spies a switchbacked path which winds its way up, below the city, though it seems to disappear after a while, and Aru points out that he’s at least vaguely familiar with the city faction that manages this path - the Duskwardens.

Nestled at the base of the slightly tapered cliff, the party approaches a fork in the path, with a sign generously noting that to the south the lies the Yondabakari path (50 miles to Kaer Maga), and forward, the Halflight Path - the visible, switching one, that is 4 miles to Kaer Maga (you can choose how you ascend).

PCs who make a DC 20 geography check also know, helpfully, there’s another path up the Storval cliff - a mere 350 miles away is the Storval Stairs, past turtleneck ferry, the sword, etc.

Wide enough to accommodate entire caravans in single file, the trail begins at the foot of the cliff directly beneath Kaer Maga, where a small but well-maintained wagon trail splits off from the river road and terminates at a bronze gate which folks who make a DC 15 geography check know is called the Twisted Door an intriguing sight that is barely visible - shrouded by irregular cliff walls.

The 50 miles includes the distance to the river path, up, and back. Where to?

Magda worries at the other voices, not her voices, not the steady trickle of a gutter but a gushing of a stream, not the squeaks of the curious rat, but the chittering of those rats with the fluffy tails (squirrels, Yazi tells her as Magda stares in confusion at one).

It too much so she wads some cloth into her ears.

Then the beautiful winged ones soar out of the sky like pretty pretty pigeons, and she knows one. She lays a hand on Marcus's arm, shaking her head at the bow, more herself in that moment, then hurries beside Kali to hug the feathered wonder.

"Hi" she breathes into his fur.

-------

In the other city, her first other city, the voices can be felt, not simply heard. But she blocks it all out. Even the cobblestone singing about feet, which is actually quite beautiful and, well, disturbing.
concentration check: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 22

Reading the signs, she starts heading up the path marked 4 miles. The sooner they complete this task, the sooner she is home where she belongs.

Hippogriffs:

Marcus lowers his bow with an arched brow, but once he recognizes what's going on he lets up on the string and returns the arrow to it's place in his quiver.

Present:

Marcus keeps an eye on all the passerby's, but keeps his silence, adding to the "not aggressive nor friendly" crowd. He's all to happy to accept Magda's heading on the shorter route. No need to delay.

Hippogriffs

Yaziyah stops chanting and clapping as it becomes obvious that the creatures do not intend them harm. She stands back as Kaliyah approaches them, apparently familiar with at least one. Truly wondrous creatures they were, and the shaman allows herself a small smile at the sight of the reunion.

At the foot of the Storval

After squinting at the sign for a while, Yaziyah takes a few steps back and cranes her neck to look up, following the switchback patch up the sheer cliff side with her eyes. "If this way is so much shorter, why would folks ever take the other one? Unless there is some catch to this shorter one." Her gaze turns to Aru, as the only one among them who has ever been in these parts.

Mags stops, a good twenty feet in front of the others. She looks back but doesn't say anything.

"You're right. Whatever it is, we'll need to brave it. We can ill afford delays now." Yaziyah squares her shoulders and starts after Magda, using the shaft of her hammer as a walking stick.

"It is considerably more dangerous, of course." Aru points out. "Basically the very nature of every shortcut ever devised or still to be devised."

"You want the safe route, you take the long path of the Yondabakari. You want speed, you don't care for passing close to the creepy undercity, and you don't mind your legs twitching for a day or two, you go up the Halflight path."

The party starts hiking up the path as the morning ends, and joins a handful of other travelers doing the same. They soon finds themselves staring at an extraordinary sight. Ancient beyond reckoning, these immense double-doors are covered in runes of an unknown language and take their name from a strange and subtle warping of their edges, which seem to rotate at strange angles yet still fit together without a gap. In a phenomenon frequently studied by visiting scholars, any given edge on the gate appears perfectly straight, yet as the observer follows it with his gaze, he finds his eyes have somehow turned, and what was once an outside edge is now inside.

Standing in front of the gate are a pair of tidy-looking humanoids in dark grey leathered armor. Each has a pack full of adventuring gear, including belays, rope, and other climbing equipment at their feet. They have bandoliers with a number of vials and other accoutrements, and human at the front has a notebook which he has open, something particularly useful given that there is a short line behind him, facing the doors.

The other guard, a dwarf, has a small, ridged shield, and a sharp pick at his side and seems to be looking over her shoulder at the entrance to the proper trail. There are about a dozen travelers of various ages standing nearby speaking amongst each other,

The party moves to stand in line, and after a few minutes, a gaggle of travelers emerge from around a corner on the trail, lead by a yet another dusky-armored half-elven woman. She inclines her head and says to the people following her, with a slight smile, ”safe travels, may the City of Strangers welcome you again.” She approaches the human man, and dusting herself off, retrieves a vial and takes a drink - some small scratches on her neck heal, and the young woman winces before sighing in relief. She moves over to a nearby bench and sits down, drinking some water from a canteen.

The human man says to the people assembled nearby, ”well, Duskwarden Lydia has to take a short break, and she will lead you through the halflight path.” It seems the party will have to wait until the next ‘round’, whenever that is. After the half-elven woman has had time to rest, she stands up, and cheerfully says to those standing near the gate, ”well - I trust you’re all ready to go. Come along, I’ll help you if I can - but it’s always best if you can help yourselves.” She appraises everyone, and takes a pack from an older traveler, hefting it on her shoulder seeming without effort. She looks around, ”well? Come on. Spread the load. Help each other.” She gestures at the confused travelers, who don’t all seem to know each other, until it’s clear she means that they strongest among them should help the weakest. Once the loads have been satisfactorily distributed, she claps her hands, ”well done! Now, on to my rules. You’ve already gotten the general….” and her voice starts to trail off as she turns around the corner, the travelers in her party following dutifully.

The man seems to start calling people in line forward, and the party has a scant few minutes to wait before he reaches them. He has a lockbox out, and is writing on a small ledger. He takes down the party’s names (or pseudonyms if they want) and offers to contact next-of-kin for a small fee. Otherwise, the cost is two gold per person.

Seeing as the price is trivial, the party pays and joins six others in front of them and one behind, to wait at the bench. The dwarf wanders over, ”Right, I’m Duskwarden Marigold. Here’s the rules: one, the Duskwarden is the boss on the halflight.” She looks over who’s assembled, ”maybe you can take care of yourselves. Maybe not. Those are the rules though. Two, stay on the path, except where this contradicts rule 1. Three, you don’t touch anything, don’t listen to anything, and just… don’t do anything disruptive - except when doing so would prevent you from violating rules one and two. Easy, right?” Her gaze lingers on the we’ll-equipped adventurers, ”last year we lost 5 travelers. Only five. All of them violated one of the rules or another. They’re there for your protection. We vow not to abandon you unless the cause is hopeless - but the undercity can be brutal and unfair, and hopeless can happen. Got it?” She waits for everyone to at least meet her eye, and she nods, ”should be no more than an hour until Shale gets here. Until then, prepare as you’d like.” She wanders back over to her spot and keeps guarding.

It isn’t more than 45 minutes before an oread man comes down from the path leading another group. He seems much more taciturn than Lydia and doesn’t seem to be injured. His craggy, rocky skin is unblemished beyond what seems normal, though having never seen an oread before, the party has no frame of reference for this. He’s pulling a cart, and a few children and an older woman step off gingerly, and he appraises everyone, ”who needs cart.” His voice is accented, and has a slight trill to certain letters, as he looks around. None of the travelers seem to be particularly disabled, and he nods, ”good. Empty cart. Ready?”

"What things are down there?" Mags manages to ask the dwarf, both out of pragmatism and curiosity. There are whispers... different, soft, almost... seductive?

really asking to know if there is a type of monster they know they face a lot so she can cast hunter's blessing.

For now the shaman moves around, her spells bring a rumble of the market, the smells of the port, the heat of well sunned cobbles... she misses them so much.

cast greater false life on herself, ward of the season (summer) on Yazi and Marcus ("The target is surrounded by tiny motes of light. While the spell remains in effect, the target’s base speed increases 10 feet. The target may instead increase its base speed by 30 feet for 1 round by reducing the spell’s total remaining duration by 1 hour."), waterproof on herself, and pass without a trace on everyone that lets her (10 people total)

greater false life: 2d10 + 10 ⇒ (5, 5) + 10 = 20

She will also extend her city's protection, as weak as it is out her, to Yazi.

Ward of the city hex: +7 untyped save vs disease and poison and 35% bonus on percentage chances to negate critical hits and sneak attacks. (This stacks with effects such as fortification, or abilities that grant a creature with no chance to negate critical hits a flat 25% chance.) Each time the ward is used (whether the roll is successful or not), the bonuses are reduced by 1 and 5%, respectively.

As they wait, Aru takes a notebook of his own and starts to pose Goro an assortment of questions, as if brainstorming about a hot topic. As they are about to leave, he then tries to make sense of it.

Aru is using Automatic Writing, an occult skill unlock. It is a DC 30 secret Linguistics check. Aru has a +20 bonus to this check. This works exactly like the divination spell with a success chance of 60% plus +5% for each 1 point Aru succeeds on this check (max 90%). Question: What dangers will we face in Kaer Maga?

Here, in the chilling shadow of the cliff, with the even more chilling presence of the undercity close at hand, Yaziyah is grateful for the brief warmth of Magda's spells. Once they have received their instructions, she prays for a few moments, calling on the protection of the spirits for the duration of their journey.

Then she looks upon their fellow travellers, offering to pick up heavier burdens - as long as they are not overly bulky and might impede her movements in a fight.

Stoneskin on self, DR 10/adamantine.

She nods in response to their guide's question, preparing to step beyond the strange doors onto the halflight path, making a mental note to tip the oread generously if they all made it alive onto the other side. The journey sounded dangerous indeed, and these people were risking their lives many times a day.

Marcus volunteers to take on a great deal of the packs, while also being reasonable enough to not make himself a liability. He also ensures he can easily drop them if the time comes for it.

Marcus is liking the structure of this path. Clear rules and leadership. However he does raise an eyebrow at one point. "Don't listen to anything?" He inquires.

The dwarven woman responds, "aye. Anything. Everyone knows or knew someone, right? You remember their voices?" She stares up at Marcus, "well, you might hear people you know from... wherever you came from. Down in the undercity."

She shakes her head, "maybe promises of wealth, calls for help. When I say anything I mean it. Understand?"

To Magda, the woman shrugs, "eh? Truth is, most of us don't know. We don't want to know." She leans forward, "we once killed a blob of tentacles and biting mouths, and that was something we recognized." She leans back, "people have written ponderous tomes about what's below Kaer Maga" she smirks slightly, "most speculation, but we're practical. We just kill what comes out of the holes. Even if we wanted to, half the things don't have... a reference guide to identify them. We count ourselves lucky that whatever spawned them is far away." If you want to use aberrations you can, but you may want to wait for Aru to respond from his divination.

"We shall be fine if we stick to the path. So let's do just that."

With no further preparation needed, Shale nods and starts pulling his cart, saying only ”follow.” He hands each person in the group a small amulet slotless item though. This amulet is a small crystal at the end of a simple leather thong. It glows brightly from within, shedding light equivalent to that of a torch. One of the other Duskwardens explains that if anyone clutches it, they can summon the closest duskwardens within one mile, once per day. The party accepts these and they and the other travelers start moving along into the winding path.

Inside the tunnels, the path’s terrain changes regularly. Just beyond the Twisted Door, the tunnel appears to be natural stone, worked in places to widen it but otherwise the sort of thing subterranean water flow might carve anywhere. As it climbs, however, this impression quickly gives way to regions clearly influenced by man or beast. Crudely carved corridors bearing primitive cave paintings, ornate masonry with elaborate frescoes, labyrinthine passages with all but the appropriate corridors blocked by rock falls, mirror-smooth tubes where only sand spread on the floor by the path’s guardians allows enough traction to move—the composition of the regions the path passes through seems to change like strata in the rock. One thing, however, unifies every section of the path: the careful brickwork of the Duskwardens, closing off side passages and heavily reinforcing those existing natural barriers between the Halflight Path and the rest of the subterranean realm.

As the group approaches every junction like this, Shale says quietly, in a low rumble, ”quiet.” Surprisingly, Trinia complies easily - while she’s been relatively chatty up to the twisted door, she seems to take the instructions of the guide quite seriously. The same cannot be said of a young human man in richly adorned garb, who smirks to himself and seems to be laughing off the admittedly brief ministrations of their guide. After the first such, incident, where the young chelaxian cupped his hands and said ”hellooooo…” to a bricked up passage (one clearly carved with intent Shale frowned and listened carefully, only shaking his head. Shale’s demeanor seems to garden, if such a thing were possible. The man, Adrian, seems to be trying somehow to ‘impress’ the group by showing off a carefree attitude (or something) but it seems to fall flat.

The second such passage, he sidles up to it and knocks on the heavy masonry, listening for an echo, with a smirk. Shale moves to Adrian and forcibly grabs him, his voice louder, but still low, like an earthquake, ”foolish”. With some rope, Shale grabs the man and with remarkable strength and speed, ties him up. With one arm he lifts the man up and tosses him into the cart. Too stunned to respond, Adrian, gawks at the indignity. Shale lifts up a finger to his grey lips and asks, ”quiet?”. With the other hand he retrieves a handkerchief, and the implication of the consequences of disobedience become clear.

Suddenly, there is a sound from the other side of the wall. A faint knocking, eerily mimicking the same pattern that Adrian had used.

Slightly frowning, he looks back at Adrian, who shakes his head, his eyes pleading, and Shale nods. Returning to the front of the cart, he starts pulling away even as the knocking continues.

As the party leaves, they hear a faint murmuring coming from behind them, but it could be a trick of the windy caves, or the sound of running water. It soon dissipates as Shake hurries away, the extra weight in the cart barely slowing him down.

********

At one point the path even opens up. Shale moves to the man in the cart and forcibly gags him, tying it around his head, despite his protestations. Shale points at his eyes and says harshly, ”path. only” and the party starts to pass through what appears to be a section of an ornate and abandoned city filled with doors, each carefully locked and barred.

Aru, Mags, and Marcus seem to become slightly distracted, though they generally keep plodding on. Trinia watches Aru, hesitates, and then seems to decide something. She approaches Shale to whisper something to him.

The stoic man seems to be considering something, and then he nods. Trinia inhales slowly and starts to tap out a beat on her armor with her finger, a rasping noise that breaks the silence. The sound is rhythmic, like a primitive instrument, soothing, but blending into the natural sounds of the cavern. With a start, the three that were distracted break their reverie, their minds clear. Shale nods as she keeps playing for the rest of their time in the deserted city.

They’ve almost left the city when they hear a rattling noise behind them, growing louder and louder, like a cascade, as if every door in the city is rattling in hits hinges, the rattling growing closer and closer.

Shale grits his teeth and plods on, though the party seems to notice he’s slightly more energetic, and as they pass into the hall, a squeaking noise echoes in the cavern. Unmistakably it is the sound of a door opening. A door at the other end of the city. And then another door opens. And another. Shake inhales and exhales, and through gritted teeth says only ”run” Trinia stops playing and nods, and the party does as instructed. Up, up, up, the party travels. Switching back and forth until Shale finally slows down. He listens and shakes his head, looking at everyone curiously, and says ”locked.”

When at last the travelers emerge, sweating and out of breath, they do so in a bunker-like structure of stone and mortar just a stone’s throw outside the Warren, allowing easy entrance to the city. Shale grunts as he retrieves Adrian and ungaggs and unties him, and the young man, ego bruised, glares at the seemingly ageless oread. Shale taps his head and shakes it, then moves to whisper something to one of the other Duskwardens on guard who looks at Adrian, and approaches him, ”sir, you are banned from travel on the halflight path for a period of one year. Best of luck.” He retrieves a notebook and starts writing down things, and annoyed, Adrian pushes through the line of people waiting and disappears into the city.

His work complete, Shale collects the ensorcelled pendants from each traveler and bids them ”good day,” then immediately prepares to ferry any amassed travelers looking to make the reverse trip down to the cliff’s foot.

Marcus is on the edge of threatening the man himself when their guide goes a step further and hogties him. Marcus nods approvingly, casually steadying the wagon as the man is thrown in.

On the opened path, Marcus takes the word of their guide seriously and keeps his eyes driven forward and down. When he hears the luring utterances make their way to him he frowns in disapproval. Seems a bit on the nose. A slight hesitation was inevitable, the oddness of the communication was enough to ensure that. But the rhythmic thumping gets his attention back, and he obediently keeps his eyes forward and continues his stride.

As the doors start opening and their guide gets more on edge, Marcus slowly drops to the back of the pack, intent on being the wall between them and any pursuing party. Luckily they manage to outrun it.

When the spoiled brat is untied Marcus audibly snorts in derision, but he seems satisfied with the temporary banning.

As Shale collects the pendants, Marcus slows to show him a sign of respect. There were no words that the man would want to hear. He knows the kind of work he does. But as Marcus hands over the pendant he extends a hand, giving Shale direct eye contact and a firm nod of respect, silently passing along the message between quiet men of violence of the acknowledgement of their burden. Then without further ceremony he turns and moves with the party to the city.

The journey on the halflight path is unnerving at best, and Yaziyah does her best to steel her mind against the strangeness and her heart against the fear. After the troublemaker is tied up by their guide, she moves to walk alongside the cart, ready to subdue the fop should he try to do anything unwise.

The section through the seemingly abandoned city is the most nerve-wracking, and she is constantly watching for threats; just because people no longer live there it doesn't mean that something else doesn't. As Shale gives the signal to run, Yaziyah begins jogging slowly, so that she falls behind to defend the rear of the group if needed.

As they reach the end of their journey, she hesitates as Shale marches away from them; it seemed somehow inappropriate to offer him money, but it is hard to think in the moment what else to give as a sign of gratitude and appreciation. After a little while, she walks over to the Duskwarden guard whom Shale talked to, and hands them 20 sails. "For the Duskwarden retirement fund, or... whatever you brave people need."