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Once the team is ready, you proceed through the corridor to west of the Whispering Tyrant's trophy room.
The walls in this room are lined with tarnished silver mirrors, some of which have been smashed to pieces. Reflections of reflections dance about in the dim light. The hallway to the south is crisscrossed with crackling black energies that block the entire passageway.
The wards created by the Whispering Tyrant are far beyond the capabilities for most mortal casters to dispel. They cannot currently be bypassed by teleportation. However, the lingering effects of the positive energy released when the Radiant Fire detonated have caused cracks to develop in the Whispering Tyrant’s otherwise masterful spellwork.
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Sir Hendric lacks the magical expertise of his companions, but as he looks into a mirror he sees not a reflection of himself as he is now, but a reflection of days past!
The paladin Ollysta Zadrian, leader of the Silver Crusade, charged the titanic Shemhazian demon along with several of her paladins. They stood no chance. Some were frozen in place by the creature's gaze, others cut down as soon as they tried to close for combat, and Ollysta herself took a grevious wound.
Sir Hendric, ever more heroic than obedient, decided that Ollysta would not stand alone. His Pathfinder companions knew more about magical artifacts than he did - he was needed on the field of battle.
For Honor and Justice! He lowered his lance and charged, as he had done many times before. But as at least a few times before - such as that minotaur so long ago - the foe was seriously wounded but still stood.
Ollysta Zadrian struck with her sword, smiting the fiend, but it still was not enough. The creature's claws tore into her, and she lay at Sir Hendric's feet.
Could he withdraw to make room for another charge? The demon could pursue, or strike him as he moved, or escape with the body of the paladin. No, there was nothing to do but make a stand.
He battled the creature while his companions tried to activate the great weapon. Without the momentum of a charge, his lance could not as easily pierce its hide, but he would distract it while they got the weapon to work.
Any time now...
Finally he was struck from his horse, while Sentry was paralyzed by the fiend's awful gaze. He was faintly aware of one more mighty blow as he lay on the ground. Then, he heard the voice of the Inheritor, ...Honor unbreakable, even by death itself. You would have made a fine paladin. You bought them enough time.
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"Any of you strong magic users able to heal this cursed bite? I fear my wand isn't going to cut it."
Once healed, Bristor turns his attention to unraveling the wards . . .
First, he joins others in studying the vile wards – he casts detect magic and then tries to make sense of the knot of evil.
Next, he’ll investigate the mirrors, and is surprised to see scenes from the Ruby Phoenix tournament play out before him, fight after fight and a diversion with a dragon resulting in the Pathfinders’ resulting victory and obtaining the now unravelling Hao Jin Tapestry.
Finally, he’ll put his back into physically disrupting some of the wards.
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After the fray, Peter recasts heightened awareness.
He detects magic and attempts to study and manipulate the Wards.
Peter directs Sir Hendric's efforts to the best of his ability to weaken the struture.
Finally, Peter studys the mirror.
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"Ah, a task suited to my unique expertise." Julian rubs his hands in anticipation as he approaches the wards.
His eyes take on a slight sheen as he scans the magical signature of the wards. "I've not seen wardings like this outside Varisian ruins. Are they inspired by Thassilonian work?" He scratches the whiskers on his chin.
"Of course, Thassilonian, Osirion, or his own design, there's always some trick."
With a twist of his hand, he disrupts one of the arcane channels.
Total: 44
He moves to study one of the mirrors. "Here's an old memory. Where you there, Bristor? When we investigated that haunted market in Korvosa? A lesson to be learned there, about disturbing the quiet of the dead."
Finally, he looks behind one of the mirrors. "Even magically-reinforced stone crumbles, in time."
Total: 52
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Having defeated the immortal ichor, Bristor bids one of the heroes attempt to heal him of his cursed bite.
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In the Hall of Broken Mirrors, Bristor, Sir Hendric, Julian, and Peter study the mirrors, and the reflections they see in the cracked glass show them not as they appear now, but rather as recalled in memories of their past adventures.
The images in the mirrors swim and change, showing the past exploits of the Pathfinders. But something is just a little bit wrong with each of the memories, some detail that seems out of place. Perhaps it's the marred surfaces or maybe it's Tar-Baphon's malignant magic at work, but the visual recollections are altered somehow.
Bristor studies the wards, but his spellcraft isn't up to manipulating them in a meaningful way. But Peter has better luck with the task, as does Julian.
Peter provides valuable supervision of the engineering, then Sir Hendric, aided by Bristor and Sentry and , manages to weaken the physical structure of the wards. Julian is able to disable more of the wards.
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Feeling the magic of her shapeshift begin to weaken, Archaememnon throws her heft against the columns.
Strength
She gazes into the mirror and recalls the time she stormed the Diamond Gate (in vain).
With the party falling back in disarray, Archaememnon fought a desperate rear-guard action to save the wounded and escape the crypt. The failed mission was a single blemish on an otherwise spotless record. It wounded her pride to this day.
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Archaememnon throws a draconic shoulder against the physical structure of the wards, and though he doesn't succeed, he would aid someone else who tries.
Sir Hendric studies his peculiar reflection in the cracked mirrors, and he's just on the verge of gleaning something useful, but then he notices an unsightly blemish on his chin, breaking his concentration.
However, Bristor, Julian, and Peter each manage to piece together patterns in these discrepancies, gaining insight into the mirror’s structure.
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With a triumphant shout, Shevar Besnik’s voice rings out. “Pathfinders! Together we’ve cleared the remaining wards from the stairway. And together, we’ve beaten back most of the monsters these Catacombs had to throw at us. Who wants to go deeper? I’m sure it’s just as bright and cheery as up here!” The way to the Silent Shrine is clear!
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Thanks to the skills of the team and the other Pathfinders, you bypass Tar-Baphon's wards in the Hall of Mirrors and continue south, deeper into his lair.
You enter a massive receiving room, it’s marble walls, floors, and ceiling hinting at its former glory. Four statues of a skeletal figure dressed in ornate robes and crowned with a horned helmet stare menacingly at the wide bridge that crosses a bone-strewn pit.
This once-opulent room served as a place for welcoming guests and indulging in grotesque entertainments. The pit is 30 feet deep, and the bones layered in the bottom make it difficult terrain. A heavy, odorless, invisible gas fills the pit, pushing out all the breathable air.
The team passes through the receiving room without incident and heads for the exit in the southwest corner of the chamber.
The stairway leads upward for only a few feet before it is blocked completely by rubble, while the stairs down are were warded and impassible by magical or mundane means. You and your fellow Pathfinders successfully breached these powerful defenses.
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Named for the way all sounds here turn to harsh whispers, the Silent Shrine is a place full of libraries and laboratories devoted to the study of undeath. It was here that much of the experimentation carried out by the Whispering Way was conducted under the blind gaze of statues of numerous death gods. Statues of Urgathoa, Kabriri, Orcus, and Charon stand throughout the facility, placed near shrines to those gods. Although the Whispering Tyrant does not worship any of these deities, his allies and guests found them comforting.
The hallways in the Silent Shrine are 10ft tall, and its rooms are 20ft tall.
The silence of the shrine is pervasive, pressing in on the ears of anyone entering. Broad stairways to the east and west lead to landings with statues of terrifying gods of death.
While the constant cries and echoes of lost souls in this area of the Gallowspire are dampened, the muffling effect makes it hard to hear much of anything.
An immense humanoid skeleton, towering over 20 feet tall and weighing some 2 tons, stands draped in tattered robes, its horselike skull lit from within by an eerie red glow. Its smile reveals a handsome set of impressive teeth, and clawed hands extend from the sleeves of its robes.
"Welcome, mortals, to the Silent Shrine," the creature greets you. "How may I serve you?"
"Perhaps you would like me to tell you the story of some important object you have brought me?" the strange creature offers. "I ask only for the sacrifice of a single life in exchange."
The small statue on the landing in the northeast corner of the room is of a python wrapped around a gravestone.
Map & Images
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Sir Hendric looks distracted on the stairs for a moment.
"A foul servant of the Tyrant in my mind, promising immortality. As an undead abomination, no doubt."
He doesn't seem too bothered by it, having expected all manner of assaults and ploys.
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But we can also use ploys.
On seeing the immense undead try to bargain with the party, the cavalier does not immediately attack.
While his instinct is to lower his lance and charge, his rage at the Tyrant for destroying Vigil does not overrule his considerable Wisdom.
He keeps silent and moves back a bit, waiting to see what the plan is.
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As the team moves deeper into the Gallowspire, Sir Hendric tells his companions of a voice speaking to him, promising immortality. If anyone else heard anything, he or she isn't speaking of it.
Entering the Silent Shrine, the heroes behold the huge skeleton, which some of you recognize as a saxra, an evil undead creature somehow connected to air, despite its towering size and bulk.
Peter recalls what he knows about a saxra's special attacks and defenses. "A saxra has no special defenses, per se, but it has several special attacks: bone swarm, energy drain, spawn skeleton, splintered ground."
Julian and Bristor glance at the statue in the northeast corner of the chamber. The python wrapped around a gravestone is the symbol of Farfarello, one of the Malebranche, a minor deity of Hell called the Lord of the Forgotten. They spot what looks like a small clay ball clutched in the python's mouth.
Hearing the huge, evil undead saxra's offer, most of the team rejects proposition, if it means the sacrifice of one of their own. Julian asks what the creature could possibly offer that would be worthy of such a high price.
The saxra dismisses the question as purely rhetorical. "I was lured into service to Tar-Baphone long before the Whispering Tyrant was imprisoned. If you've no interest in what I offer, then I will reap a fine harvest of souls to feed my master."
(+4 if ceasing Heightened Awareness)
Bristor
Peter
Wynnreyell
Sir Hendric
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Saxra
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Julian
Archaememnon
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Back at the caravan of goods following the expedition, Sheila Heidmarch speaks. “It’s time to resupply the front line,” she says to the Pathfinders on caravan duty. “There’s no telling what they’ll face next, and...” Her announcement is cut short as the wall buckles. A towering colossus emerges from the wall, blocking the path ahead. “... and we need to deal with this thing first!” Pathfinders from the caravan fire a barrage of arrows and spells at the creature, but they bounce off its tough exterior. “We’ll need strength to crack its defenses!”
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Peter says Well, Perhaps I can free you to serve a new master instead...
He then uses his rod to quickly cast command undead against the beast.
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Dravakuul the Risen, tearing through a horde of enemies, sees a team of junior Pathfinder trapped in a collapsing tunnel. Stowing his axe, he spreads his terrible wings and flies across the field. Arrows pierce him but he doesn't falter. He has died before and come back in service to the Ruby Prince. It is the prince to whom he pledged his life, and the prince has offered it to the society.
He plunged into the tunnel and throws his back against the breaking walls.
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While Wynnreyell moves into the room and sets up a firing position on the northwest landing, Peter tries to resolve the combat with a single spell, but the saxra possesses the incredible willpower.
the saxra scoffs, then laughs. "You have more stones than your brains."
"Bring it, b%!&%!" Adopting a martial fighting stance, the saxra waves it clawed arms around in a Neo-in-the-Matrix come-hither gesture. "Come, get ya some!"
Meanwhile, back in the Society's combat trains, Dravakuul the Risen and Ugly Neil, having responded bravely to Sheila Heidmarch's call to defend the vital logistics from the colossal monster's assault, find themselves trapped in a perilous situation, and need the assistance of other Pathfinders to escape. Their very lives depend on it.
Bristor
Peter
Wynnreyell
Sir Hendric
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Saxra
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Julian
Archaememnon
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With its ability to dispel death wards, this is no time for half measures.
" If you will not be turned, then you will be… destroyed," Peter says ominously as magical energy starts to arc between his fingertips. He recalls his acadamae training once more and a spins it into a summon calling forth a celestial Smilodon that appears and charges the flat-footed flying monstrosity.
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Peter summons a celestial prehistoric dire tiger, and as soon as it appears it charges the saxra.
The saxra snaps its jaws on the smilodon's back, just before the giant cat can reach it.
Suriving the saxra's savage jaws, the smilodon scratches and bites, finishing off the unholy skeleton.
Peter
That statue of a python with a clay jawbreaker in its mouth still stands in the northeast corner of the chamber...
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Able now to read the the note, Peter learns that it describes the location of a relic in the Black Caverns. The Whispering Tyrant placed this note here long ago, hoping that Farfarello would ensure this information would be lost for all time. Whether because of lack of true faith from Tar-Baphon or some contractual loophole, the deity never erased that knowledge.
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Wheeling his steed about after his spectacular charge, Sir Hendric spies a twenty-five-foot-tall figure in the center of the Silent Shrine. It's a burnished gold statue of a skeletal figure draped in fine robes and wielding a scythe dominates this room. A horned crown rests atop the figure’s head.
Moving closer, the team takes a closer look.