GM Kate's Extinction Curse [closed]

Game Master Kate Baker

Prism looks surprised. "Do we need to move the tent? Did a storm come through here while we were gone?" She looks around, knowing that it will only take a single ember or spark to catch the entire tent on fire.

"No storm, but it was at the edge of the camp. No risk to the big top. Probably someone smoking and didn't put their ashes out well enough."

If there's nothing else you want to do while back at the camp, I'll assume you'll return to the temple tomorrow.

Sorry, meant to post!

Rova's curious about this -- spontaneous combustion is definitely a potential precursor to The End! She goes over to investigate.

Perception (master) (+2 circumstance bonus when using Seek action to find hidden or undetected creatures within 30 feet): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (17) + 15 = 32

"We need to be careful of people smoking nearby. That tent burns and we all lose our livelihood." She helps Rova search that area for anything unusual.

Rova searches the area. She finds a few cigarettes around, but then she spots a burnt torch, nestled in the roots of the tree that caught fire.

"Good news!" Rova chirps happily. "Well, sort of. There's a torch here, so it's probably not The End yet. I don't think that would come with anything so prosaically. But ... I think someone might have tried to start this fire, unless they were really careless!"

Any other checks we can make to try to find a source for said torch. I'm assuming any tracks would probably have been obliterated at this point.

"Likely someone just careless." Prism pokes around and grabs the torch. "Let's head back and get some rest."

"But ... I think someone might have tried to start this fire, unless they were really careless!"

"On purpose?!" Unset replies, disheartened. "This here should be a place of joy and amusement, not murder an' arson. If the tent be under threat, do we dare leave it behind again? 'Least 'til we settle the matter of whether it be intentional 'r not?"

"Me life and me livelihood'r tied up in this tent, here, they are. But, more im'portantly, this be where me friends--me family--be livin'," he says aloud, concern evident in his voice.

"Forgive me, I'm unfamiliar with circus life: does you tent frequently come under threat of arson?"

Rova looks around for tracks. She mostly sees animal tracks going through the area, but then she spots one comically-oversized shoeprint.

A clown left this torch.

"THERE!" Rova says. She ponders furiously. Maybe if they could make an impression of the print, they could check everyone's shoes. The one that "fit" would be the bad clown. Then she has a sudden sinking feeling.

"What if it's not Rovagug or Lubaiko, or our clowns ... What if it's Mistress Dusklight?!" she exclaims angrily.

The clowns of the Circus of Wayward Wonders show off their shoes, but none is a match for the footprint Rova found.

Where would you like to go from here? Back to the temple? Investigate Madame Dusklight? Talk to the constable? Something else?

"If you think it is Madame Dusklight then we should see the constable. Let the authorities deal with them. Though if we keep bickering and crying wolf soon they won't even believe us and we will get kicked outta town." Prism works through her thought process out loud.

"Or worse!" Rova says, speaking from experience. "Maybe we should just tell everyone to keep a closer lookout while we go back to the temple. Maybe we can figure out what she's doing."

I say let's go back to the temple after telling our fellow carnies to keep an eye out.

”No cops.” She switches to a rolling eyes faceplate. ”Until absolutely necessary.”

You work with the circus members to arrange for guard rotations, watching the edges of the camp.

You sleep restfully, and awaken energized. All drained conditions are cleared!

You return to the temple, showing your permits to the guards.

Ulthadar greets you as you return to the bottom level.

"I am glad you have returned. I was worried you would not. Those spirits were not like me, a priest from so long ago. They were killed here much more recently."

Ulthadar is just saying hello, ha ha. I put you back toward the entrance; where would you like to go next?

"How recently?" Prism asks concerned that another group came down here while they were gone as she heads off to the west.

"It was a few days ago...perhaps a week?"

Prism moves on down the hall, and opens the doors to a strange room.

Twelve statues ring the perimeter of this round, cavernous chamber. The exquisitely detailed stonework depicts humans facing inward toward the room’s center, all but two wearing a mask of cloth, leather, or stranger materials. Low stone steps lead to a circular dais at the center of the room, where an inscription has been carved deeply into the gray stone. Double doors exit to the north and east.

The twelve statues:

A muscular woman swings a carpenter’s hammer. This statue wears a patchwork mask of balsa wood, iron, and leather.

A willowy man carries a sculptor’s tools and a painter’s palette. This statue wears a mask woven of boar’s bristles.

A stooped, elderly man with an empty bowl in one hand reaches out with the other. This statue wears a mask of burlap cloth.

A broad‑shouldered woman clutches a sheaf of wheat and a sickle. This statue wears a mask woven of dried grain stalks.

A burly man hauls a net laden with fish. This statue wears a mask of silvery netting.

A cloaked woman crouches low, aiming a heavy bow toward the center of the room. This statue wears a mask of brown leather adorned with autumn leaves.

A pudgy man carries a scale under an arm and holds out a hand with a palm full of coins. Its mask is missing.

This statue depicts a wizened woman hauling a stack of books in both arms, a quill tucked behind her ear. This statue wears a mask constructed of stiff parchment.

A young man holds a crooked staff and reaches down to stroke a stone lamb. This statue wears a mask of spun wool. Art on Slide 2

A stocky woman stands at attention, a crossbow strapped to her back and longsword and daggers at her belt. This statue’s mask is constructed of pieces of broken blades.

A lanky man displays lengths of cloth draped over and arm and holds a needle and thread. This statue’s mask is missing.

A grinning woman touches the dagger at her belt and holds up a purse with cut strings. This statue wears a mask of black satin.

Aroden Lore: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (18) + 13 = 31

"Ah! The guises of Aroden! Here's the Artisan and the Artist. Begger, Farmer, Fisher. And over here, the Hunter, the Merchant, the Scholar, and of course, the Shepherd, Soldier, Tailor, and finally the Thief." Kennari rubs his chin for a moment. "Speaking of thieves, several of the masks are missing...Aha! The inscription: Aroden blesses those who share his guises. Perhaps the masks are key to something in this temple, and someone who preceded us here took some."

"Makes sense, I'd suppose," Unset replies. "As for the where the masks may be, don't be think'n me a a thief. This here face is the real things, so t'speak." He gives the scholar a grin.

Moving past the gnome, Unset makes his way to the door to the north. "Shall we head this way?" he inquires.

"Do you suppose we should borrow a few those masks ourselves? The inscription certainly could be read to suggest doing so."

"Oh, I don't think we should take them from the room!" Rova says. "It made sense, but ... I just get the feeling it could be bad. Like when a Sarenite starts paying too much attention to you."

"Butwhat...could..Aroden..possiblydo..tous? He isdead." Prism looks around with a bit of surprise.

Niksi looks appraisingly at the statues and listens to the explanations. ”So he assumed different genders as well? Well, that’s the first tidbit I have heard of Aroden that sounded remotely interesting.” She takes on a slight teasing tone for their resident Aroden-ologist. ”Why don’t we see if we can find the other masks about? That might right things, magically speaking.”

"The lot of ye are full o' insight, ye are," Unset nods, though concern crosses his face. "But, we've been through much o' this here place and not found no sign of masks, best I can tell. 'nd further, if harm is t' be comin' to those not wearin' the masks, then, perhaps, we'd best put 'em on before we head off 'xplorin', lest we be beset by that which is already off, magically speaking?"

"I think there's still a lot to explore," Rova says. "I think if we can bring the masks back, then ... I don't know, just look like we're one of those people? If Kennari holds a bowl, he kind of looks like that third statue..."

Or someone can try to take a mask more carefully, but I don't have the skills to do so.

Prism hangs back, not wanting to anger a God, even a dead one. "Nope, all good here, let's just keep moving."

Unset opens the door to find a hallway.

The west side has crumbled away into an enormous natural cavern. A crude ramp of crumbled stone and earth leads from the cavern floor up to the hallway.

This is probably how the xulgaths got in.

Filthy nests, cold fire pits, and broken tools show that there were once hundreds of xulgaths or more camped here. The cavern still bears their lingering, pungent odor.

"Seems we found the 'back door', we did," Unset notes as he stares down the large cavern. "By the looks 'er 'em, there done be a good number of them creatures here, least at one time."

"Wonder what would prompt such a large gatherin'?" he inquires aloud as he begins to search the camp. "And iffin' the lot of 'em are all still here in this temple?"

His search produces a jade bauble and an iron disk bearing a wounding rune amid the debris.

"What ye make of these here?" he inquires of the others, holding the items out for inspection.

"I hope not!" Rova says. "I think there were a lot of them. It looks and smells like it, at least!"

She looks at the items and shrugs. Though I assume Kennari will be able to ID them.

That wounding rune's pretty nice. I'll take it, but if someone else wants it, that's fine too!

All yours Rova!

"Same, we haven't seen too many Xulgaths around here yet. maybe these all shifted to the other tower we already cleared a couple of weeks ago." Prism shrugs it off, the smell still on her clothes.

"Another tower?" Kennari asks, intrigued, looking up from deciphering the glyph on the iron disc. "What sort of tower?"

Onward?

"Yea Erran Tower. Mukmuk died there." Prism's hair and face dull in color as she is saddened by his passing still. She still feels his life energy pulsing within her as she follows behind.

Onward! :P

Yes! I moved Rova's fig to my next suggested location. I'll take the rune, but don't think we can etch it until we have a little more time (I hope someone has Crafting!).

"Yeah, I thought it was going to be The End there, but it wasn't that bad. Though I think the xulgaths are using them in some way that's fascinating to Groetus. He's getting closer!"

Crafting is Kennari's best skill, and he will gladly etch the rune for you in exchange for Rova telling him everything she remembers about the other tower.

"That's...a disturbing thought, Rova. And I'm sorry about your friend, Prism."

The first secret door Rova checks is another storage room. She finds only a thick tangle of cobwebs.

The secret door across the hallway leads to a slightly different room. Many of the dried goods that once stocked this pantry have crumbled to dust over time, but a few withered bundles of desiccated herbs and glass jars filled with gray, viscous sludge stand on wooden shelves built into the western wall. There is a door on the other side of the pantry.

"Oh, what do you think that is?" Rova asks, examining the sludge jars closely before worrying about the other door.

Nature (trained): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28 if applicable?

Rova thinks these may have been jams and sauces once upon a time, but now the jars area filled wit rot.

Rova looks disappointed. "I think Urgathoa got to these," she says.

She looks to the door, waiting to make sure Prism thinks it's safe before they go through it.

"Looks safe to me." Prism creaks the door open giving it her nod of approval.

This door opens to a kitchen! A large stone fireplace occupies the kitchen’s northwestern corner. Remnants of charred wood and ash rest in the hearth beneath a cast‑iron cauldron. A dozen pans and skillets dangle from hooks. The kitchen is remarkably clean.

To the left, a door opens to a wine cellar. The bottles are either smashed or spoiled.

To the right, you see a refectory. Faded tapestries adorn the walls of this dining hall. Two oak tables occupy the room, and the polished wooden floorboards are warped in places.

Pris digs around the room, coming up from smaller hidey holes with dust and dirt streaking her face. She holds a small glimmering potion in one hand and two gold candlesticks in another. "Found a few things we might be able to sell."

She jams them in the bag as the group continues to circle around, finding a door they haven't opened yet.

Prism opens the door. Deep recesses are carved into the stone walls of this room, although most are empty. Above each is a brass plaque. Splintered wood, broken glass, prayer beads, dried bones, and other debris are heaped in large piles.

It appears this was once a hall of reliquaries, though it has now been ransacked.

A xulgath with a third arm looks up at you. He is with a hulking demon with wings. They sneer at you.

Art on Slide 2!

Initiative!
Unset
Rova
Niksi
Prism
Kalagash
Winged Demon
Kennari

You get the drop on them, besides Kennari, who is too distressed by the ruined Arodenite relics.

"Oh no, more of them!" Rova says, quickly sizing up the newest foes. "What the heck kind of demon is that?"

Unsure, she decides to target three-arms, and moves into the room to target him.

Hunt Prey, Stride, Strike
+1 striking shortbow (deadly d10, magical, 60 foot range, reload 0): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (2) + 16 = 18

Thkrull moves toward the room, trumpeting in frustration at the people in his way.

He Strides forward, but not into the room yet.

"more demons and Xulgath's..." Prism groans, "And so far from the Worldwound." Prism vanishes from sight as she slowly sneaks through the room.

◆◆ Invisibility
◆ Sneak