GM Xavier Kahlvet's Passing the Torch—Low Tier (Inactive)

Game Master KingTreyIII

”Oh hello there Torch - long time no see,” Arnaut replies wearily. ”You’re looking rather green if I do say so myself. But tell us, what is so important that it must be done right this second? Does it have anything to do with keeping this pile of trouble from jumping up and yelling ‘Gotcha!’ again?”

Didn’t Valho have a wound that also glowed green? Oh bother.

"No! Well, yes, but I need to know if we're on the same page. Why? Why do we need to destroy the helm?"

Peter adds,” The helm is his phylactery. As long as it exists, Vahlo will return. ”

”Oh, my apologies, Peter, I didn’t realize we were playing 20 Questions! Tell me: Animal, mineral, or vegetable? Undead? Okay, bigger than a breadbox? Yes? Alright, now how about you give it to me from the beginning so we’re not wasting precious time!!!”

"Oh hush Torch - didn't your doctor tell you shouting is bad for your blood pressure?" Arnaut lazily waves a hand at the spymaster. "Besides, we really should be asking Absalom's finest information broker what we know and not the other way around. But if not wasting time is the point, perhaps you could start with what you know, and we'll supplement."

Torch grasps two handfuls of hair and throws his arms up. ”Fine!

“Vahlo is a graveknight servitor of the Whispering Tyrant. Graveknights are bound to their armor like a lich is to their phylactery, and Vahlo’s armor is actually that helm. Vahlo has been using the Society from the very beginning to further his own agenda from within the Ten, and as long as that helm exists then Vahlo will come back and continue to do so! So, everyone get in a line and put on that helm!”

Peter nods, since, much of that tracks with his own knowledge"Would you mind submitting to Marta's questioning on that? Is multiple people putting on the helm the decemvirate helm's specific means of destruction?"

Inquistors can discern lies no? He can voluntarily give up the saving throw. Also, any kind of knowledge check on knowing what will happen to us if we do that?

"First of all, ew. I just watched that helm spawn a disgusting baby a few seconds ago.

"Second, a graveknight? Peter, that might have been good to know when we were trading blows with Stumpy.

"Third, last time I destroyed a graveknight we used a volcano. You sure the helm would survive that? I'm sure there's a perfectly serviceable one nearby...

"Fourth, a line? Ugh, everyone knows never to form a line because the audience doesn't want to see a wall of people - they want depth!"

The more astute of the Pathfinders might note that Arnaut's whining has a twinge of magic infusing it, wrapping around them and buoying their spirits should the worst happen.

Arnaut can use saving finale to grant someone who fails a saving throw a reroll, but he has to have a performance active to do so. He'll start with Inspire Courage +4 (bonus against fear seems like it could be handy), but he can switch to Inspire Greatness if we think the +1 to Fortitude could make a difference. The most important thing is to have a performance going - only exception is Soothing Performance since it requires four uninterrupted rounds to activate.

"Would you mind submitting to Marta's questioning on that?

”Yes, I very much would mind; I currently have a mind blank, a spell turning, and a glibness all going, among numerous other spells, and so long as there is even a slight chance that Vahlo is coming back I am not dismissing those spells and wasting more of my resources. It’s only a matter of time before what few Pathfinders remain in Absalom come here, and when they do the Decemvirate will take back that helm! Five people putting on the helm within a 24 hour period will destroy the artifact—normally it would take doing that twice within two days, but the ritual supercharged Vahlo’s rejuvenation, draining the helm of most of its power and leaving it weak enough that it can be destroyed right here, right now. So again I say: Put on the gods-damned helm!!!”

Sir Hendric takes off his helmet and puts on the Decemvirate helm.

Assuming it does not take control of him, he takes it off and says "Next?"

@GM I don't know if you need to go back, but Rita's 16 touch would definitely hit Bellamin. I expect it only matters if the effects are permanent.

Bellamin takes it from Hendric and looks distastefully at the helm that most recently had spawned an undead monstrosity from nothing. If we must. Torch, if you are lying to me, I'll hunt you down and kill you again. Bellamin puts on the helm and takes it off to pass to the next person.

Marta floats up to her feet and wastes no time and casts a CSW on herself, then allows Peter to finish the duty Save yourself one charge, Peter. What were you using to do the healing that it would do 3d8+8?

CSW: 3d8 + 13 ⇒ (7, 3, 3) + 13 = 26

"Very well. No wonder she was so cocky, knowing that she would just hop back up and cause all kinds of grief. Too bad we cannot contain her and find out how to destroy the Whispering Tyrant."

Marta floats to her feet and takes her place in line, nervously eyeing the dust that was so recently a deadly foe. Considering herself still in combat and not fully trusting Torch, she switches her judgement up a bit to offer some protection from spells.

@Bellamin, it was a natural 1

@Marta Monavic Devas can cast it 7 times per day. Fluffy and should both be fully healed with your spell as well .

When Hendric dons the helm Peter casts heightened awareness again.

After Torch and Hendric, Peter dons it and takes it off. using arcane sight and my fairly high knowledge/spell craft to look for ill effects before doing so

Marta follows Peter's example and also casts a heightened awareness and has someone recharge her ioun stone with a shield spell.

Once everyone else has had a chance to try one the fabulous headgear, Arnaut sighs heavily and dons it as well. "Do you think this thing brings out the color of my eyes?" he asks as the mask obscures his face.

Marta floats to her feet and takes her place in line, nervously eyeing the dust that was so recently a deadly foe.

I’m assuming that this means that Marta puts on the helm like everyone else.

Also, Peter doesn’t notice any adverse effects.

Once Arnaut dons the triple-spired helm its metal grows brittle. Several cracks form on the helm, and it silently shatters into several large pieces; Peter, with his arcane sight, watches as the large shards lose their magical auras.

Grandmaster Torch stands with tenseness as he casts detect magic, staring fervently at the shards on the grass. After several seconds, the information broker pants deeply. He presses his back against the Wall of Names and leans his head back, then slowly slides down to be sitting on the grass.

Torch reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out a pair of hefty leather bags that he tosses to his half-orc companions, landing at their feet with the jangle of coins. The half-orcs look at the bags with concern, then at each other, and then at Torch.

”Boss...?”

Torch gestures the back of his hand through the air, as if dismissing the two half-orcs. The bodyguards glance once more at each other, then reach down to each pick up one of the sacks. One pulls out a scroll and sets it on the ground while the other grabs the first’s shoulder. The two gaze once more at their employer before one of them utters a few incantations and the pair dimension door away.

Torch removes the complex metal goggles and haphazardly tosses them to the ground. He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes away the layer of sweat from his face. With a grunt, he slowly rises to his feet and moves down along the Wall of Names, his fingertips traipsing along the dark stone.

He stops at a certain point, looking at the engravings around him. He softly growls and pulls out an adamantine dagger. He flies up to near the top of the wall, where there is a moderately-sized margin free of the names of any Pathfinders and easily digs his dagger into the stone wall.

Torch spends the better part of a minute continuing to carve into the wall. When he finally floats down to the ground he reveals several inexpertly carved names engraven into the wall:

Kiras Lithron
Rosarra Springale
Thanien Kiandel
Asha Sandwalker

Torch tosses the dagger to the ground and sets the top of his head against the wall, placing the palm of his right hand against the wall. All the while Torch continues to pant deeply.

Pausing for PC reactions before I continue any more.

Arnaut watches the performance curiously. Not much like the Torch of old - but are those agents? Should we know them?

Sense Motive, GH: 1d20 + 43 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 43 + 2 = 63
Knowledge (local), GH, Boon, Take 10: 10 + 22 + 2 + 1d4 ⇒ 10 + 22 + 2 + (2) = 36

Hendric bows his head as Torch carves more names into the wall.
"May they find new paths to walk in the worlds beyond."

"Thank you for your assistance, Grandmaster.
Vahlo tried to convince me that he was on my side because, in the past, he had done things that were to my benefit.
Another schemer and mastermind recently tried the same. You may know of them. It didn't work there either.
I have been around enough to know that schemers will do such things when its suits their purposes. I thank you for not insulting my intelligence as they did by making such protests.
Still, even if you took action against Vahlo to protect yourself and your interests, rather than out of the goodness of your heart or your fondness for me, your help was valuable. And with Tar-Baphon on the loose, we need every ally we can find - even if they are allies of circumstance.
What will you do now?"

Peter glances at the shattered helm “ That was a priceless artifact of the society, but a price that needed to be paid to stop far worse events. As far as I can see, it’s magic is gone. I’m glad Vahlo is gone forever, but what of you Torch? Was Vahlo your only target within the society? Do you remember the last time we saw each other?

Peter listens intently on what his allies have to say, and what else Torch has to say.

Victims of Vahlo? That seems the most likely reason agents wouldn’t be on this wall that Torch thinks belong. I joined the Torch’s shadow lodge thanks to their dedication to pathfinder agents, but that was when I followed him, and he still has much to answer for from then and since. I don’t know about other events, but he killed someone I helped capture, at his request, right infront of me, when he fell from from the society’s good graces. Right before he ordered his enforcers to deal with us!

Torch lifts his head off of the Wall of Names and turns around. “This is where it ends,” He announces, while removing several rings and tossing them onto the ground, seeming to ignore the questions posed to him. “So many years ago, I joined the Society and did the Decemvirate’s bidding, only to be betrayed and abandoned rather than have the leaders admit wrongdoing.” He unclasps his cloak and unbuckles a bandolier of potions, adding them to the pile. “I worked independently after that, as you know, trying to change the Society through the Shadow Lodge.” He grunts derisively while upending a belt pouch containing spell components, a half-dozen tub-shaped feather tokens, and an ivory statue of himself. “Lost control of those rebels, I admit, but the new Shadow Lodge that resulted? What a magnificent thing that was!” He looks Peter in the eye with a smile on his face. ”Together, we stood to reform the Society from within!” He punctuates this point by dropping his quiver and discarding a leather case brimming with scrolls. He breaks his gaze from Peter and looks askance. “Until I realized that all the progress we seemed to make ceased the moment the Decemvirate took an interest.” He unceremoniously adds his sword to the growing hoard of magic items.

“I’m a suspicious man, and I admit I jumped too swiftly to blaming the Decemvirate. Yet, when the opportunity came to discover their identities, I took it. My old nemesis Dorianna Ouidda had secured the names, yet even she had yet to piece together Vahlo’s motivations,” He snaps his fingers several times and casts numerous dispel magics, a magical aura upon him disappearing with each snap or casting. ”But I recognized him from the tales, recognized what his presence might mean, and knew what he would do to anyone who stood a chance of knowing his true identity. I killed Dorianna, I publicly betrayed the Society,” He looks once more at Peter, sorrow in his eyes. ”And I no doubt disappointed you. It was the only way I saw in the moment to deflect blame from Pathfinder agents like you, Peter, and take it on myself, becoming in the Decemvirate’s eyes the villain they always assumed I would become. And to be fair, it worked; instead of an inquisition, the Grand Lodge reached out with an olive branch and special training.” Torch sighs as he locks his gaze with Peter’s, clearly speaking directly to the tiefling rather than the group of Seekers before him. ”I couldn’t bear to see Vahlo wipe out you who placed your faith in me, even if I had to break your faith to save you from that fate.”

Torch sheds the last of his equipment except for armor, belt, and his amulet, plus a candle and tindertwig held in his hands. “For old time’s sake,” he notes with a wry chuckle as he lights the candle and balances it on the ground before concluding. “Since then, I’ve done everything I can to unmask Vahlo in a way that the Decemvirate couldn’t laugh off. I’ve stolen, spied, and even warmongered to that end, but at last the worst of the Ten has fallen. And by now my agents have finished carrying off enough evidence implicating two of the other Decemvirate that I suspect they’ll flee the Society once those documents come to light.

“I’ve done what I came to do. I’ve finished what I set out to accomplish. What I’ve done, I’ve always done for the Pathfinder Society and its agents. But that’s not for me to judge. I’ll answer any of your questions, and I’ll submit to your judgment. If I am to live or die, let it be the decision of true Pathfinders, not the Ten.”

The infamous and enigmatic Grandmaster Torch, a character as old as the Pathfinder Society Organized Play itself, awaits what you say next. What do you do?

Arnaut nods, calmly walks up to the man, and slaps him across the face.

”That’s for almost getting Bellamin killed by hiring an assassin.”

Another slap.

”That’s for the citizens of Absalom who lost their lives to the undead you allowed to be raised during Thurl’s siege of the city.”

A third.

”And that’s for making us stand here and watch you get undressed.”

Finished, the bard turns and walks back to join the other Seekers.

"You've suffered enough," Jordan concludes. "If you think yourself capable of living the rest of your life, I will do what I can to protect you. I always knew something felt...off...about the Ten and some of their orders." Jordan joins the Grandmaster in sitting against the wall. "I do not blame you for what you've done; you helped to calm a lot of what happened, even if only be leading us from one place to the next with rumors. For that, I thank you. And, well, for that!" Jordan says, playfully shooting an arrow into the remains of Vahlo's helm.

Jordan looks out to his compatriots. "Though, if any of you harbor anything against this man, I'm much too out of breath to stop you from taking whatever revenge you wish."

Peter replies, clearly moved by the horrible truths behind Torch’s actions “ Knowing what I now do, I believe you’re correct, I would have been dead years ago if not for your actions. The society did provide special training instead of killing me, which is precisely what Vahlo tasked us to do to you. I’m in no position to pass judgment on you, so all I can say is you have my thanks for saving me all those years ago. I can’t speak for the now 9, or my companions, but I think there has been enough suffering on Vahlo’s account. Besides, we have the undead masses need to be tended to...”

He turns to his colleagues “ Do any of you disagree? ”

"I mean, I'm not quite down for undead hordes, but I do agree Torch, here, has had enough meddling from the Society."

”That’s for the citizens of Absalom who lost their lives to the undead you allowed to be raised during Thurl’s siege of the city.”

Torch takes Arnaut’s smacks without objection. He rubs the red spot on his face from the bard’s hand.

“The attack on Absalom was…fraught. The Society had built an impressive list of enemies, and it was my hope that by facilitating these villains’ private revenge fantasies, I might provoke the Decemvirate into open action and draw out Vahlo, all the while exposing these villains so you could defeat them before they got too dangerous. It didn’t work as intended. Certainly Muhlia managed to implicate Skyreach in coordinating the invasion, which nearly drove the First Guard to investigate the Grand Lodge. Thurl, on the other hand, was too unpredictable. I had hoped he might create a few golems and let them loose in the Grand Lodge; instead he turned up with an army bent on utter conquest! In the chaos, though, I infiltrated Skyreach and identified Vahlo’s sinister plans for the construct known as Gulgamodh. I sent my agents to disable the giant construct, but the Pathfinders managed to beat us to it and use Gulgamodh in the city’s defense—far better than Vahlo’s plan to unleash it on Eastgate. It seemed to have worked as far as flushing out the other enemies as well. Their resources sapped, they fell to you easily after that. In fact, I am almost certain that time and resources spent on the siege of Absalom were the only thing that stopped Koth’Vaul from focusing on Deskari before the Society could defeat him. Thurl and Koth’Vaul both had big plans with or without me. The attack on Absalom was a major waste of their resources for little return that ultimately ruined them. I regret the lives lost that day, but far more would have suffered if they hadn’t spent that energy attacking such a well-defended target.”

Marta's brow furrows as name after unknown name flys by. Not much of one to read the chronicles, considering them more pulp fiction than truth, Marta lives most of her life in a bubble until duty calls. Of the significant events in the Society's past, the most disturbing one and the one she was personally involved in...

"Well, I must say that most of that went right over my head. I WOULD like to know why Hestram went on his rampage. Was THAT your doings?"

"Well, I must say that most of that went right over my head. I WOULD like to know why Hestram went on his rampage. Was THAT your doings?"

Torch shakes his head. ”Hestram was a pawn of Dorianna’s; I had nothing to do with his actions save the name of the Shadow Lodge alone.”

So many dead. And for what? To kill one creature and drive away two others? Bellamin shakes his head. I cannot agree with your methods. The ends do NOT justify the means. And these means were horrific. I will not execute you myself, but you will stand justice for what you have done. He reaches into his Haversack and pulls out a coil of rope and begins unwrapping it as he approaches Torch, fully expecting an attack or other betrayal. I had hoped that becoming a jeweled sage would mellow your spirit as it seems to have healed your flesh, but here we are at the end of another scheme. This must end. Bellamin starts tying Torch's wrists.

Peter addresses Bellamin, although does not move to physically stop him" I'm not justifying Torch's methods, but to what end do you bind him Bellamin? What will the 10 9 do? Throw him in skyreach? For how long? On who's authority?

Torch cared, he cared about his agents, he apparently cared about us shadow lodge agents enough to become the villain. Torch, if we let you go, you say your vendeta against the society is done. How do you feel about stopping the whispering tyrant so we all go on living?

Torch makes no effort to resist Bellamin’s bindings beyond saying ”Perhaps you should let someone stronger secure the knot.” Escaping a rope is based on the CMB of the person who tied it.

So many dead. And for what? To kill one creature and drive away two others?

Torch sighs. ”Vahlo’s ritual would’ve killed thousands of innocent civilians and rose them as undead in service to the Tyrant, which would have caught the militia fighting the lich off-guard. The corpses of a few was necessary to avoid a cataclysm.”

"Torch, if we let you go, you say your vendeta against the society is done. How do you feel about stopping the whispering tyrant so we all go on living?

”I never had a vendetta against the Society, not once—my anger was against the Ten. And one man cannot best Tar-Baphon; without knowing the location of his phylactery any effort against him is merely a war of attrition. And if I’m being honest, I’ve spent years on the run and planning for today; I rarely gave what would follow any thought. It’s tempting to just retire somewhere warm and relax for once.”

"I think we should let him go.
I see no prospect of Torch getting a fair trial.
I see no danger in letting him free. In fact, we may have need of his services in the future. Maybe his network of informants will discover something to help the war against the Whispering Tyrant."

Sir Hendric will not aid in binding Torch, as he does not think it the right course of.

Marta grimaces, again, but also chimes in on behalf of Torch.

"Certainly, though he may be guilty of sins, the one for which we were called to remedy was manufactured. Unlike some of you, I am unaware of all this history. I just know that the one that sicced us on him was an emissary of one of the greatest evils this world has ever known and this Torch's crime was to be it's adversary. That is not law in action and I will not support it. Now if someone were to bring forth real charges and a trial were to take place, I could support that. But until then we really have no right to incarcerate the man. And it does seem like the man would be willing to face charges if they were brought against him."

"Is that correct, Torch? would you submit to a lie detection and verify that you would report for trial if so requested by the legal authorities? Perhaps submit to a geas, should someone here have such a spell or be willing to purchase one?"

Sir Hendric shakes his head. "Torch will never get a fair trial. If there were some charges and a warrant, and the Absalom authorities were to conduct the trial, he'd call the Decemvirate as witnesses. That is what I would advise if I represented him. They are intimately tied to everything he is involved with, so they are relevant.
They would have to remove their helms and their wards against divinations to testify.
Would they give up their secrets for the sake of punishing Torch? No. So he cannot get a fair trial.
It is what it is.
Let him go."

”Just out of curiosity, who are these two other members of the Novemvirate you were so keen to scare into hiding?”

"Not all the Decemvirate are bad. I wish folks would quit lumping them all into one rotten barrel. But as far as I'm concerned, I think all this hiding behind helms should end anyway. Look where it has gotten the society! Yes, who were the other two members? And were there any members that you trusted?"

”Just out of curiosity, who are these two other members of the Novemvirate you were so keen to scare into hiding?”

”I never learned their identities, only their nefarious deeds.” Translation: not detailed in this scenario.

"And were there any members that you trusted?"

”Not deserving of my animosity? Certainly. Trust? Absolutely not.”

"Bellamin, this man killed many so that the society may be righted. How many have we killed on behalf of Vahlo or his associates? I'm sure it at least matches, or better outweighs anything Torch could have done in the past decade. This man deserves the peace he sought. I will see to it he gets to his 'somewhere warm' and enjoys what remains of his life, if you all will let me. I had nothing to do with this Shadow Lodge nonsense, I wasn't around for the Assault on Absalom, and I most certainly harbored the same amount of animosity for this man until Mediogalti island came around and changed my mind. I will bring him where he wants to go, and then I will return, and the society will be out at least 30% of the evil it's been committing. Then, just maybe, I can finally get some peace in my penthouse for the rest of my days.

Deal?"

I suppose you all are right. There's no authority here in Absalom that could give him anything resembling a fair trial. The people implicated by his testimony are too powerful. He would be dead or even more thoroughly discredited before any such thing happens.

Bellamin drops the rope and looks Torch in the eyes. Will you also be giving up that Sage Jewel? Seems an awful lot of power to hold if you just want to retire.

Bellamin drops the rope and looks Torch in the eyes. Will you also be giving up that Sage Jewel? Seems an awful lot of power to hold if you just want to retire.

Not quite the question, but I'll roll with it.

"Amenopheus had once shown me his sage jewel and explained its significance, and when I learned that several more had been unearthed— in the same ruins where I had been burned, no less—I took pains to secure one. There was a certain satisfaction in at last obtaining the artifact I’d failed to recover decades ago, and it’s helped me understand and overcome some of my scars. At this point its value is more sentimental, and I’m ready to return it to the Jeweled Sages.”

Regardless, it seems the party has reached a consensus.

Grandmaster Torch sighs as he looks at his wrists, recently unbound by Bellamin.

”Years of animosity. Years of hatred and contempt. Years of warmongering, deceiving, and villainizing. I had never expected this. I…I don’t know what to say…Thank you…”

“Well, this is certainly unexpected.”

A voice of middle pitch comes from behind the Pathfinders. They turn to see a pair of figures before then, both members of the Decemvirate, and behind them a slew of Pathfinders move about the Grand Lodge, the sight of a phantom chariot ferrying Pathfinders over the gate of particular note. One of the Decemvirate wears a bejeweled ivory helm—Shemis. The other wears a helm of whorled black mesh that wraps the head like a tangle of thorns, their physical appearance and voice devoid of any suggestion of gender or ethnicity beyond simply being from Absalom.

The Decemvirate of the whorled helm stands from a kneeling position, a shard of the triple-spired helm in one of their hands. Shemis clears her throat and steps forward.

”I commend you for your work in assisting the Grand Lodge in this, our most vulnerable time. We of the Decemvirate cannot express our gratitude in words alone.”

The Decemvirate of the whorled helm looks up at the Seekers before them, including Grandmaster Torch, and shifts their stance to stand with their hands behind their back. They speak once more in a voice of middle pitch in the most generic Absalomic accent one could imagine.

”That being said, even we of the Ten do not have the whole story, and some context is in order. It is time to report, Seekers; what has happened here?”

Grandmaster Torch clenches his fists, trying—and failing—to maintain his composure in the presence of two of the Decemvirate.

What do you do?

Peter answers," Given that you've used the chariot I provided to Eliza, I assume that you've been filled in on part of the story. Torch has long harbored suspicions about the Decemvirate, and in investigating them came to realize that Vahlo was, well, the undead menace that he was."

Peter points at the ashes next to the shattered helm before continuing, " Torch intended to assault the grand lodge, for the purpose of killing Vahlo. After discussions with Eliza, we came to the conclusion that this was necessary. We came here to find him in midst of an undead ritual that would have had severe ramifications for all of us living here. After destroying the graveknight, the ritual's energys became unstable. I did my best to try to contain them, but moments later they exploded." Peter points up at the previous spires of the skyreach towers, before continuing "Only moments later, Vahlo revived. We fought once more, as his blade began to reanimate fallen agents on the Wall of Names. We brought him down once more, with Torch's aid, and this time destroyed his phylactery.

Peter sighs slightly at the loss of one of the society's artifacts. He continues, " Torch explained his actions, and while I can't say I agree, I do believe I would have died in the Varisian frontier after learning what Torch did from the spider, at Vahlo's order. Torch has commited numerous foul acts, I believe him when he says he is done, and he didn't do these things for no reason. We were just telling Torch he is free to leave, and we do hope you'll agree. We may have stopped Vahlo, but there is still the matter of the whispering tyrant's siege. Still plenty of undead to move into the permanently dead column!

Shemis shakes her head.

”One situation at a time; the Whispering Tyrant’s siege is being handled, even if for the moment, by the combined forces of Absalom, Osirion, the Five Kings Mountains, and the Knights of Oze—no, the Knights of Lastwall. For the moment the Pathfinder Society is working in Ustalav to prevent the lich’s forces here from growing far worse. Even if we cannot assist the Absalom front directly, we are nonetheless instrumental in ensuring another siege upon our fair city fails. For the moment, however, we need high-ranking agents here in the Grand Lodge to ensure nothing goes awry—this ‘Vahlo’ has made that fact known.”

The whorled-helmed Decemvirate nods.

“Concern yourselves not with Tar-Baphon for the moment; you deserve respite, Pathfinders, even if it is the respite of giving a report while adrenaline leaves your systems.” They look around at the group before them. ”Is there anything that the rest of you would like to add?”

”Well, might want to start getting used to the term Septemvirate now,” Arnaut begins with his signature dazzling smile. ”Or at least Novemvirate, because that helmet’s toast.”

”What happened here? Why, a struggle between life and death, sword and fist, spell and secret! That helm which you hold merely a fragment of was once the public face of none other than Valho Huovar, member of the Decemvirate of the Pathfinder Society. Yet this man held a terrible secret for centuries - he was no man, but a monster! A Graveknight servant of the Whispering Tyrant, seeking to use the Society to further his dark agenda.

”Yet his secret was not entirely silent. Even at the beginning of the Society, there were those with the clarity of mind and stoutness of heart to not only recognize Valho’s actions, but to confront him and those who would trample the noble ideals of the Society for their personal wealth and prestige. For her bravery, she was banished from the group she tried to protect and forced into hiding in an island of assassins and oversized, bloodthirsty insects - while Valho walked free and continued to pull the strings of the Society.

”Years passed, and Valho’s plots continued. But one man also dared to stand against him - our own Grandmaster Torch. But how does one accuse someone whose very identity cannot be confirmed? The answer, my friends, is very, very carefully. And when Valho took note of his investigations, how did our hero respond? This monster held not only his beloved Society, but the very lives of those he cared for most in his vile clutches!

”And so he made a choice. He took the fall needed to act outside the purview of the corrupted Society leadership, but he used every ounce of wit and skill in his body to take all the suspicions and doubts of the Decemvirate with him - to protect those, like Peter, who once followed his lead. Like his predecessor at the beginning of the Society’s tale, he went into exile. There, he continued to protect his beloved Society - both by playing the dangerous game of sabotaging the plans of our true enemies like Thurl (knowing that only death or worse would await him if he was discovered) and by continuing to find information about Valho and his shadowy past.

”His efforts are last came to fruition when Valho, emboldened by the Society’s siege on his master’s prison and enraged by Torch’s continued threat to his hidden identity, ordered us to seek and kill the Grandmaster. When the truth came to light, we returned here to the Lodge to confront the villain - only to find the Whispering Tyrant’s forces on our very doorstep! After removing Valho’s efforts at weakening the Lodge from the inside - which included both the use of foul necromantic artifacts to enslave the dead of the Society and the summoning of an archon to destroy any evidence of his evil deeds - we disrupted his ritual at the top of Skyreach and smite the monstrous Valho to the ground below!

”This was not the end, however. For at this very spot, the evil Graveknight reformed once more. Another mighty battle ensued as he sought to permanently silence the very Seekers he once guided now that they were inconvenient to his goals. Once more, his ashes fell to the ground - but this monster would continue to return time and time again so long as his armor remained intact. And, just as Valho had corrupted the Society, so too had he corrupted the very symbol of its leadership by bonding with the helm he wore. So long as it existed, so too would he.

”And who should be the one to help us destroy this festering evil? None other than the man who brought his foul deeds to light - our own Torch. Here he now stands before you, one who has sacrificed so much for the Society and the people within it. One who has lost everything because people like you could not bring yourselves to see the evil next to you, talking about the weather with you, discussing the Society’s next steps with you, eating fruit and laughing with you. Tell me, what have you done in the face of adversity that even comes close to what this man has done for us? How can you even begin to repay him for his sacrifices? Fall on your knees, members of the Septemvirate, and pray for his forgiveness.”

I think my companions have done an admirable job of summarizing our mission over the last few days. Bellamin nods his thanks to Peter and Arnaut. Now I have a question for you. Anonymity makes accountability impossible. The remaining members of the Decimvirate remaining masked means the Society as a whole cannot see and judge their actions or understand the motivations that are driving them. You've seen it already here, that anonymity has allowed a Graveknight to remain among your membership for centuries. There are hundreds of Pathfinders here who have all seen the same thing, and I expect are rapidly starting to question who else among the Decimvirate is undead or working for Rovagug or has some other nefarious motivation. It has to end if the Society is to continue. We don't need another Torch. You must act. I ask you to take off that mask, and that the rest of the Decimvirate do the same, so the Society as a whole can see who is leading them.

Well, isn't this quite the education?

Marta has nothing much to add, though she does take the opportunity to exercise her ability to detect alignment on Torch, while she has the chance, just to make sure there is not another hidden evil there. An aura surrounds her and changes nature as it shifts from shadowy tendrils, to white motes, then metallic stars, and finally coruscating worms. By the end of things, barring any magical misdirection, she will know the An aura surrounds her and changes nature as she shifts from shadowy tendrils, to white motes, then metallic stars, and finally coruscating worms. By the end of things, barring any magical misdirection, she will know the alignment of Torch.

"For once, I fully agree with another Pathfinder. Bellamin is right. I worry for the Decemvirate's safety and direction. If Vahlo could be there, who's to say you aren't the OTHER TWO Torch has implicated!" Jordan shouts, having the audacity to draw his bow at both Shemis and the unknown Decemvirate in front of him.

"I find it doubtful, but I also found the likes of a Graveknight halfling in the Decemvirate doubtful until about four minutes ago."

Jordan does lower his bow after catching the reactions of the mysterious Decemvirate. "What say you all in your defense?"

Jordan quickly plops next to Grandmaster Torch again. "Too far?" he asks the Grandmaster.

Sir Hendric shrugs.
"I'm sure you have your reasons. I actually don't mind judging you merely on the basis of the missions you send me on. I don't need to see your face for that. And there can be a monster hidden behind a pleasant face even without the benefit of magical artifacts. An operative of Rovagug, for example, might look just like anybody else.
And without protections against divination, all of our missions would be compromised by the Consortium, the Whispering Tyrant, or other enemies.
I see more downside than upside in removing the helms.
But it is not my decision."

The two Decemvirate members look toward one another at Bellamin’s comment and nod at one another.

”Some privacy is required.”

The whorl-helmed Decemvirate utters magical incantations over the course of the next ten minutes as they cast mage’s Private sanctum, positioning it such that Grandmaster Torch is kept outside of its area, but he is still well within sight of those within; any attempt by the Grandmaster is met with harsh warnings and turning him away. Once the spell is cast, the Decemvirate member sighs.

”Three hundred eight years ago there was a bloody coup within the Pathfinder Society; agents rioted over how the Decemvirate of the time governed our organization. Agents targeted them—blackmail, violence, magical compulsions—so that they may get their way, or take revenge over actions decided by the Ten as a whole rather than the individual. They decided then to stand down from the Decemvirate and secretly appoint successors, and that the Ten would henceforth be masked, that their identities may be hidden and such a coup could never have occurred. Adril Hestram, Grandmaster Torch, their attacks only happened because that anonymity was broken. We wear these masks so that those upset with how the Society is governed aim their hatred toward the ‘mysterious masked cabal’ rather than at those who wear the mask.

“Those who bore the triple-spired helm were prone to questionable—at times insidious—actions, and more than once over the centuries were they expelled from the Ten and a successor appointed in their place. This, unfortunately, is a relatively scarce occurrence among those wearing the helm, so it never aroused suspicion; knowing that the helm was the armor of a Graveknight means that when the helm was passed on to its successor, Vahlo likely destroyed himself that he may reform, for whoever wears the armor of a Graveknight while they reform lose both their body and mind, until all that is left is the Graveknight alone. As much as unmasking the Ten would seem to fix, in the end it would cause countless more problems to surface, as the actions of Grandmaster Torch and Adril Hestram have evidently revealed. However,”

The Decemvirate of the whorled helm brings a hand from behind their back—the one holding the shard of the three-flanged helm. They stare at it for a moment and let it drop to the ground.

“With Vahlo’s destruction comes the destruction of his helm, an irreplaceable artifact. And with it, the Ten would become Nine. So much has changed in the Decemvirate in just a decade—in spirit and in composition. It seems fitting that its organization should change as well to reflect its purged evils and a new era with new leadership.”

They takes their helm in both hands and lift it, their body resolving from that of a generic person into a clearly feminine body structure. Flowing down from within the helm of black whorled mesh falls a cascade of fiery red hair. Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro smiles warmly at the Seekers before her. Character Profiles Updated

“It was the bravery of Pathfinders like you who convinced the Decemvirate to accept me as one of their own. It’s past time I honor their courage by serving the Society as an open member of the Decemvirate.”

“It is a bold move to become Unmasked,” Shemis observes. “You are weaker without the artifact, and we are already weakened by becoming nine.”

“You’re missing the point,” Eliza remarks. “What the Society needs is a face and a name, someone—even if it is but one person—they can turn to with complaints and concerns, someone that can be held accountable for the poor decisions of the Ten. And what the Decemvirate needs most is new talent, courage, insight, and initiative.” She nods to the gathered Pathfinders and holds out her helm. “I know that someone will rise to the challenge.”

The Decemvirate of the ivory-clad helm chuckles warmly. “I doubt you’ll ever cease to surprise me, Eliza.” She turns toward the assembled Pathfinders. “Any one of you would be worthy of joining our ranks and helping us ensure that nothing like this ever happens again. What say you?”

"That's...one way to gain my trust. Eliza, I apologize." Jordan isn't completely shocked, but he definitely didn't fully expect that.

"I offer myself as a candidate, though any others here may do better than me. It'd be a good way to stay involved with helping the society, without straying too far from home. If you're offering, count me interested."

I expect that, like any job, it will have it's ups and downs. Nevertheless, I would be honored to accept if the position is offered to me, and will use that position to fight corruption everywhere while still fulfilling the responsibilities of the role, within the Society as well as the larger world.