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"If I were to ever retire, it would have been to Vigil," the cavalier says bitterly.
"My home is destroyed. If there are any survivors, I will rally them to fight against the Whispering Tyrant until my dying breath. And, if the Inheritor sees fit, I may fight for Her causes even after that... in some form..."
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With some unexpected time on their hands, our heroes commiserate, sharing their hopes and dreams.
Archaememnon imagines life as a chicken roosting in an alpine henhouse, and Sir Hendric ponders life as a lich in service to Iomedae, roaming the earth righting wrongs.
Peter just wants to curl up with a good book next to some hellfire in his hearth, like a tiefliing-emeritus in his pensioned dotage.
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Ollysta Zadrian gestures the Pathfinders close and then speaks as loudly as is possible. “My friends, the clues you identified in the Catacombs have led to a remarkable discovery: The Whispering Tyrant has hidden some kind of relic deep within the Black Caverns. We don’t know its exact powers, but the information you provided makes it clear the relic would be a powerful tool in the fight against the Whispering Tyrant. It may also help us to clear away some of the Tyrant’s corruption from this place. As loath as I am to say this, we must split our expedition.”
She turns to Shevar. “Our illustrious friend is right,” Shevar says. “I will lead part of the expedition to the Black Caverns and retrieve the relic.”
“And I will lead the force to disrupt the ritual,” Ollysta adds. “But I must make it clear that whomever goes with me to stop this foul necromancy will likely be facing the greater challenge. While the Whispering Tyrant surely has guardians for this relic, he certainly has his most deadly forces set to protect the ritual.”
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Shevar Besnik leads the way through the darkness for several hours. As the surface grows farther away, the air becomes increasingly cloying and stale. The sheer weight of the hundreds of tons of stone above is palpable. Hordes of lesser undead rise to stop the group several times on the journey, but they are no match for the Pathfinders and soon fall.
This level of the dungeon consists of a series of natural caverns, although many areas have been worked, smoothed down, and made easy to traverse.
Ahead, a dull red glow provides some illumination as the cavern expands, leading to the bottom of a deep chasm where a river of blood flows. A bridge spans the chasm in a low arc. "This is it," says Shevar.
You're at the west edge of the bottom of the chasm, which is 50ft deep with stone walls The river of blood is hazardous to the living, infused with negative energy.
Ages ago, Tar-Baphon hid the relic here, in one of the deepest corners of the Black Caverns, and charged powerful guardians to remain here for eternity. Three of these guardians lurk at the bottom of the chasm.
Crusted with rock, an immense skeletal figure, 50ft tall and weighing thousands of pounds, flies swiftly through the air, constantly surrounded by crackling purple lightning and strange, otherworldly gases clinging to its nightmarish form.
A cloud of translucent humanoid spirits whirls around a pair of ghostly desiccated corpses.
While most nemhain aspirants are evil to begin with—such individuals are often members of cults worshiping deities of lost or forbidden secrets— occasionally a goodly creature considers protecting a site worthy of a corrupted, tortured existence. Such an act, however well intentioned, is destined to damn her for all eternity.
The Whispering Tyrant’s servants immediately attack.
(+4 if ceasing Heighted Awareness from wand)
(+4 if ceasing Heightened Awareness)
Map & Images
Peter
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Green ??
Yellow ??
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Wynnreyell
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Red ??
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Julian
Bristor
Sir Hendric
Archaememnon
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You've been marching along with Shevar Besnik for just over four hours.
The three guardians of the Black Caverns are airborne, flying toward you to attack, about 15ft above the floor of the chasm and the river of blood.
Peter recognizes the creatures and warns the team. "The gargantuan skeleton in the middle is a tzitzimitl, an undead creature with two special attacks: Eclipse and Eye Beam. Its attacks also drain energy . The tzitzimitl has a number of formidable defenses, including something special: Light to Dark."
"The two creatures on the tzitzimitl's flanks are nemhains, incorporeal undead. They can direct their whirling clouds of bound spirits to strike their foes up to 30ft away. Their incorporeal nature provides them significant defenses."
An incorporeal creature has no natural armor bonus but has a deflection bonus equal to its Charisma bonus (always at least +1, even if the creature’s Charisma score does not normally provide a bonus).
An incorporeal creature can enter or pass through solid objects, but must remain adjacent to the object’s exterior, and so cannot pass entirely through an object whose space is larger than its own. It can sense the presence of creatures or objects within a square adjacent to its current location, but enemies have total concealment (50% miss chance) from an incorporeal creature that is inside an object. In order to see beyond the object it is in and attack normally, the incorporeal creature must emerge. An incorporeal creature inside an object has total cover, but when it attacks a creature outside the object it only has cover, so a creature outside with a readied action could strike at it as it attacks. An incorporeal creature cannot pass through a force effect.
An incorporeal creature’s attacks pass through (ignore) natural armor, armor, and shields, although deflection bonuses and force effects (such as mage armor) work normally against it. Incorporeal creatures pass through and operate in water as easily as they do in air. Incorporeal creatures cannot fall or take falling damage. Incorporeal creatures cannot make trip or grapple attacks, nor can they be tripped or grappled. In fact, they cannot take any physical action that would move or manipulate an opponent or its equipment, nor are they subject to such actions. Incorporeal creatures have no weight and do not set off traps that are triggered by weight.
An incorporeal creature moves silently and cannot be heard with Perception checks if it doesn’t wish to be. It has no Strength score, so its Dexterity modifier applies to its melee attacks, ranged attacks, and CMB. Nonvisual senses, such as scent and blindsight, are either ineffective or only partly effective with regard to incorporeal creatures. Incorporeal creatures have an innate sense of direction and can move at full speed even when they cannot see.
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Peter looks at the army of undead infront of him Foul flying things. Would that I could ward all my allies… perhaps I can call in the big guns. He once again gives a dissertation on the creatures, but instead of stopping to get a drink of water, acts against them.
He calls upon his advanced training as a theurge to synthesize the spells of death ward, which he delivers to himself, and summons an movanic deva. He also makes a second, illusionary duplicate of Peter.
The angel which promptly says in celestial Fear not, let heaven’s light flow over you as it casts holy aura on the pathfinders. It then promptly flies over to the tzitzimitl, You shouldn’t exist, I’ll rectify that..
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Peter rummages around in his mystic theurge kitbag and comes up with a sythesized trio of sound tactics.
While smearing some Banana Boat SPF50 death block on the sensitive, tender skin of his gaunt face and scrawny arms and legs, the tiefling dials up a lean and mean, winged Victoria's Secret model wielding a flaming greatsword.
While Peter xeroxes himself, Gisele Bündchen scrunches up her perfectly-chiseled cheekbones and glutes and expels a brilliant burst of ambrosia-scented divine radiance surrounding our intrepid heroes, gracing them with her supermodel holy aura. *Schwing!*
The deva looses a war cry, "For Brady and Tampa Bay!" and then dives toward the tzitzimitl. As she approaches with 20ft of the gargantuan skeleton, the undead monstrosity opens its jaws, sinking its teeth into the monavic morsel of haute cuisine, and the awesome blow knocks her back 10ft, flinging her toward his yellow minion.
The electricity doesn't even faze the angel, and she's immune to the spittle's draining effects. And the tzitzimitl discovers the piece of angel food cake tastes a little tart to its razor-sharp sweet tooth, and it's unable to bite down as hard as it had wished. But one taste was all it took for its world to go dark. It claps its massive massive hands to its eyes, confirming the old adage that putting your mouth on a pure deva uninvited can indeed make you go blind.
Leaving the deva to its mate, the nemhain with the vomit-green aura flies forward and sends its bound spirits at the hellspawned caster that summoned the angel, the spirits' spectral hands seething with eerie dark fire. Then it cocks one arm back, ready to attack anyone who gets close.
Fickle Fate favors the mystic theurge, and the bounds spirits grasp nothing but the putrid air, sultry and heavy above the smooth flowing river of blood deep in the Black Cavern.
On the other side of the river, the glowing yellow nemhain reaches out an incorporeal claw to attack the monavic deva, while its bound spirits do the same.
Map & Images
Peter
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Sir Hendric
Archaememnon
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While he's not familiar with a tzitzimitl, Bristor provides some more tech specs of the nemhains. "They have Profane Regeneration and Rejuvenation, as well as a number of scary spell-like abilities, including harm, slay living, telekinesis, antilife shell, and wall of force."
3/day—harm (DC 23), slay living (DC 22), telekinesis (DC 22)
1/day—antilife shell, wall of force
Wynnreyell snatches a wing feather from his spell component pouch and casts fly, taking off, trying to fly straight up.
The tzitzimitl utters a guttural chant in a gravelly baritone, sending tremors through the Black Cavern and claps its massive hands together. Your world goes black. The deep darkness sends a painful chill down the team's spines.
Map & Images
Peter
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Sir Hendric
Archaememnon
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Peter is concerned his usually sharp eyes aren’t presently working. Nevertheless, angels do have a solution for that, but not Gisele unfortunately. Peter summons a of heaven’s smallest, but a nonetheless useful, chosen.
4 finely crafted golden helmets with wings appear in the utter darkness, and Peter directs them in celestial.
Bring forth the light Cassisian-94632. Cassisians 105130, 210136, 109102, once you can see cast aid on Cayden’s avenging half-orc and the human with a long spear, and the knight.
Gisele looks angrily at the Nemhain infront of her, able to see again, and utterly unaffected by the cold.
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[dice=Fort save]d20+22 vs. DC 31
“Cayden! I need your strength more than ever!” Bristor activates his judgements of purity, justice and destruction, and then clicks his heels for haste to try to move through the air with speed despite going slow since he can’t see. “Marco!” . . .
"Just come toward the screaming."
Archaememnon swift action flings a fireball at a spot between the tzitzimitl and Green, then 5' to be above Julian so she can touch Bristor and cast Dimension Door.
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if the beasties appear to have taken damage from the quickened fireball:
If they seem not to have been bothered by it:
If the tzitzimitli is "made of bone, chitin, or similar material" then it takes a further 21 points of damage.
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Sir Hendric enters Snake Style and charges Green.
He will use Snake Style or Mounted Combat if he or Sentry are attacked by the Nemhain or the bound spirits. Snake Style is two-feat investment that he made specifically to deal with touch attacks, but Nehmains are really hard to deal with.
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The icy-cold blanket of darkness causes terrible, debilitating chills, staggering most of the team.
Julian draws his bow, while Bristor judges these undead foes, taps his booted feet together and flies toward the enemy.
Archaememnon's fast-pitch fireball erupts, inflicting second-degree burns on the two nemhains, but the explosion sputters out as the flames attempt to swallow the gargantuan tzitzimitl.
Observing the destruction wrought by the spell, the dragon disciple decides to follow it up with another, even more powerful, blast. The spell detonates, catching all three undead monsters in the fiery explosion.
It's apparent to the team that these undead are resistant to fire, and the nemhains' incorporeal nature lessens the damage even further.
Ready to charge, Sir Hendric hesitates, waiting for one of his comrades-in-arms to lift the bone-chilling darkness.
Peter summons four finely crafted golden helms decorated with intricate filigree, fluttering gracefully through the air on feathered wings. The mystic theurge issues them their orders.
One of them calls forth daylight like the rosy-fingered dawn, temporarily negating the tzitzimitl's deeper darkness in a circle 30ft from the cassisian. The other three angels bestow aid upon Bristor, Julian, and Sir Hendric.
Meanwhile, the monavic deva, under assault from the glowing yellow nemhain and its bound spirits, attempts to dispel evil, but the incorpeal specters elude her touch, for now.
Now that he can see the enemy, Sir Hendric spurs Sentry into a charge toward the green nemhain. His lance strikes the undead creature, who flails its incorporeal claws in vain, unable to reach the knight.
A quick-marching contingent of Pathfinder Guards runs past, attacking the green nemhain and inflicting significant damage to the monster.
Peter
Sir Hendric
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Archaememnon
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Uttering a silent, agonizing scream, the wounded nemhain with the green aura focuses it evil on the knights four-hooved battle wagon. Sir Hendric, skilled and experienced mounted combatant, immediately squeezes his knees into his steed's withers, and Sentry sidesteps the undead creature's grasping incorporeal touch. Then, by some miracle, the nemhain's bound spirits also fail to lay a spectral finger on the horse!
Then the nemhain sinks lower, some five feet above the river of blood, its nourishing negative energy rejuvenating the undead monster, adding to its own profane regeneration.
The glowing yellow nemhain has eyes only for the delectable deva. It reaches out to the angel with incorporeal claw and bound spirits, their spectral touch draining away the last of the movanic deva's life essence, sending her spirit back to the hated celestial halls of heaven.
Regenerating as it moves, the yellow nemhain edges closer to the banks of the river, basking in its restorative vapors of blood.
Peter
Sir Hendric
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Archaememnon
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Standing atop the bridge and fighting his way across, Shevar turns to the expedition. Despite the dire situation, he smiles. “Don’t lose hope, Pathfinders! Keep fighting on! We must stop—” he begins, but the words catch in his throat. Without warning, an undead monstrosity materializes behind him. In a swift and cruel motion, the beast lashes out with a jagged spine of bone, piercing Shevar’s heart. The creature lifts the venture-captain’s body and carelessly drops him off the bridge into the river of blood below.
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Wynn focuses his ears, waiting for the creatures words. He knocks and readies an arrow. Imbuing the arrow with arcane energy, he waits.
Seeker Arrow (Sp): At 4th level, an arcane archer can launch an arrow at a target known to him within range, and the arrow travels to the target, even around corners. Only an unavoidable obstacle or the limit of the arrow's range prevents the arrow's flight. This ability negates cover and concealment modifiers, but otherwise the attack is rolled normally. Using this ability is a standard action (and shooting the arrow is part of the action). An arcane archer can use this ability once per day at 4th level, and one additional time per day for every two levels beyond 4th, to a maximum of four times per day at 10th level.
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The lifeless corpse of Shevar Besnik plummets from the bridge and lands with a sickening splash in the river of blood beneath you.
Ahead in the darkness, the team hears the tzitzimitl begin chanting a powerful incantation.
Seeker arrow nocked for just such an eventuality, Wynnreyell lets the arrow fly. It pierces the darkness, hurtling toward its target and strikes with an audible *Thwap!*
the gargantuan skeleton screams, in pain, yes, but its frustrated rage shakes the chasm's walls, sending sloshing waves through the river of blood.
The tzitzimitl lumbers forward, just beyond the edge of the hateful light, a loud splash indicating it's stepped into the river. A few of the more perceptive members of the team swear they can also hear its previous wounds stitching together, like chorus of Levi zippers closing.
Peter
Sir Hendric
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Archaememnon
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Julian sends up a quick prayer, imagining the ghosting figure of a paladin before him, "Lady Sophronia, now is the time I could use your aid."
Suddenly, his bow erupts in tendrils of light; sunbursts and angels, their arms raised to greet the dawn, trace themselves in delicate patterns along its length.
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Peter is shocked when he hears the words to a spell that would surely assault the life force of all of his fellow pathfinders, and visibly relieved when Wynn’s arrow disrupts the spells penultimate chant before the waves of death emanate. He once again directs his now smaller ensemble of angelic helmets in celestial.
To avenge Gisele and Shevar, bring more light, cast it on the weapons of your charges! Cassisian-94632, ward me and go forth until you illuminate the monstrosity.
Cassisians 105130, 210136, 109102 cast their daylights on Bristor’s falchion, Julian’s bow, and Hendric’s lance. While 94632 moves forth to illuminate the tzitzimitl. The Cassisians, after casting both of their useful spells, move away from the pitched battle.
Peter himself says in orcish
He once again calls on his training to summon 3 small anthropomorphic celestial foxes that cast their respective dispel evil spells, walk up to the Nemhains and deliver them.
The Vulpinals are clearly proud of themselves and say The fox says, foul spirits go away!
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Archaemenon will fly up and over the lip of the canyon
Arch will ready a boneshatter in case the tzitzimitl begins casting this round.
Boneshatter Fortitude DC 23
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“Cayden, lend me strength and bravery for this fight.” Bristor switches his judgment of destruction to that of smiting, making his weapon good-aligned. These seem like the kinds of horrors that this would help with. And then he’ll cast death ward on Archemennon before he moves away.
Judgments: 2/6 activations
Boots of Speed: 7/10 rounds
Greater Bane: 14/16 rounds
Dimensional Hop: 32/32 5ft increments a day
Spells: 1st 6/7 ; 2nd 5/6; 3rd 3/6; 4th 3/5; 5th 3/4; 6th 1/1
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Going to the mattresses, Julian calls in a favor, and Lady Carmela Soprano appears, and bending over, bestows her blessing on the man's bow with a kiss. "That's amore, Giuliano!"
Bristor exercises his better judgment, flicking his inquisitor's selector lever from full destruction to a more discriminating, good sight alignment.
On dragon's wings warded from death, Archaemenon flies up and over the lip of the canyon some 50ft above the floor of the Black Cavern. She readies a spell, planning to rock the gargantuan skeletal tzitzimitl to the bone, if it tries to cast another spell.
Summoning another squad of celestial reinforcements, Peter issues a series of detailed Fragos to each. His summoned centurions salute and march into battle.
Three of the cassisians put daylight-shines on the wielded weapons of Bristor, Julian, and Sir Hendric. The last brave and winged helmet carries its daylight past the forward edge of the battle space and into the deeper darkness, exposing the tzitzimitl in all his gargantuan glory.
Archaememnon is shocked to see that the crown of the tzitzimitl's bony skull reaches the lip of the chasm!
The vulpinal agathions, sly, bright-eyed, anthropomorphic foxes dressed in simple minstrel's clothes and each carrying a musical instrument in one hand, yip once in acknowledgment of their orders, cast their spells, and fly toward the nemhains, heedless of the personal danger. Reaching their targets, the Mötley Crüe smash their guitars over the nemhains' incorporeal heads and banishing their malignant bound spirits to the mosh pit of hell.
Sir Hendric, itching to charge a worthy foe, especially now that he beholds the bellicose behemoth, instead exercises some good judgment of his own, withdrawing back to Bristor and requesting the half-orc apply some of that protective death ward lotion on his horse.
Peter
Sir Hendric
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Archaememnon
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Stripped of their bound spirits by the vulpinal agathions, the nemhains retaliate with undead vengeance, casting spells to slay these summoned creatures while fending off their attacks. The glowing yellow nemhain's hand seethes with eerie dark fire, and it reaches out to touch the red-tailed fox.
The cursed green-hued nemhain bellows a silent spectral scream, its spell fizzling out as the sly fox's vulpine grin breaks its concentration.
The pair of specters take succor from their profane regeneration and the negative-energy infused vapors of the river of blood, the green nemhain actually dipping its wispy toes in the viscous fluid.
Peter
Sir Hendric
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Archaememnon
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Former Master of Spells Aram Zey knew a thing or two about magic and how to use it. In a remarkable and marked departure from his usual disdain for his lessers, he once shared something actually useful with a young Pathfinder, who now puts that knowledge to good use. Wynnreyell recalls Zey's favor, and following the haughty wizards's instructions exactly, he manages to cast chain lightning.
The fulmination arcs first toward the tzitzimitl, passing harmlessly through its titanic body in a dazzling shower of snapping sparks. Then the lightning forks into two secondary bolts that whoosh through the pair of nemhains like Torag's hammer through the smoke of the dwarf god's fiery forge.
Though disappointed with the results of the spell on these undead creatures, the arcane archer takes some solace in the electrical energy's suppressing the nemhain's profane ability to regenerate - at least temporarily.
One foot submerged in the river of blood, the tzitzimitl casts its hollow gaze around the collection of intruders assaulting the Gallowspire, before its cavernous empty sockets settle on the wyrmling near the lip of the chasm's wall. A glowing beam of force and electricity bursts from left eye and strikes Archaememnon like the Death Star hitting Alderaan.
The river of blood works its wonders upon the gargantuan skeleton, restoring it to full health.
Peter
Sir Hendric
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Green Nemhain
Yellow Nemhain
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Wynnreyell
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Red Tzitzimitl
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Julian
Bristor
Archaememnon