I was recently contacted by a high-ranking priest of the so-called god Razmir with an intriguing but troublesome offer: he claims to have his government’s permission to help us set up the first Pathfinder Lodge in the nation of Razmiran. As Pathfinders have been banned from Razmiran for over 50 years, the possibility of once again having access to that land is one we can’t ignore—but I don’t trust the theocratic Razmiri government. All they care about is praising the name of their fake god and keeping the common people poor and ignorant while they live high on the hog. Though I can’t imagine that they see the Society as anything but a nuisance, the agreement they offer seems reasonable.
Despite my misgivings, I’ve been ordered to investigate the proposed location. I’ve chartered you passage on a ship headed to Razmir to meet with this high-ranking priest in the village of Prophet’s Rest, a hamlet on the Glass River just west of Xer. The priest’s name is Narsen, and he’s expecting you. Help secure the location for the Lodge, make any necessary repairs, and hire some locals to help you hold it for the next month or so while I organize a more permanent staff.
I am sending you with a significant sum of cash to pay local workers, buy any construction materials, and grease a few palms if need be. I’m also including a few dozen bulbs of a magical plant called a Whisper Lily. These were given to me years ago by a Chelaxian associate, and once planted, the flowers have the ability to transmit sound to their sister plants here in Tymon. Plant them in secret around the new Lodge, and we’ll be able to keep better tabs on what’s going on with the locals once you leave.
Good luck!
Holgarin Smine
With the death of so many at the Siege of Gallowspire, the Envoy’s Alliance must redouble its efforts to recruit new members for the Society. Razmiran is a completely untapped source of new recruits, and although I know that Smine wishes you to find some who will serve the new Razmiri Lodge as guards and servants, you should also be on the lookout for anyone who might have the potential to one day become a full Pathfinder. Sadly, Razmiran is a land where few can be counted on not to report our secrets to the government, so I send you on a delicate mission: seek out the locals and gain their trust. Once you think you have it, try to ascertain whether or not they can keep a secret from their government. If they are trustworthy, give them one of the special tokens I have included with this missive, and tell them to return it to the Pathfinders of the Lodge once it is fully established. It will serve as a marker to those who come after you of the Razmiri’s trustworthiness. These markers are imprinted with the holy symbol of Razmir and should not arouse suspicion. With your help, we will return the Society to its former glory.
With greatest respect,
Fola Barun
Your adventure begins aboard the Queen of Elysium, a river sloop that is headed for the hamlet of Prophet’s Rest in southern Razmiran. Your fellow passengers include a sullen and unfriendly group of Razmiri spice merchants returning home from abroad, and a family of five refugees from Lastwall fleeing the destruction of their nation by the Whispering Tyrant.
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Victus stands aboard the Queen of Elysium, having long ago given up his life working the docks he is surprised by often his travels have led him on a vessel. Victus stands tall and maintains a stern face most of the time, particularly when not talking to someone else. His skin is an ashy gray that is frequently associated with Nidalese and he is eager to tell those who will listen that he is training to join the Hellknight's Order of the Rack.
Victus wears a rugged full plate but not the iconic hellknight plate as he has yet to pass the Hellknight Test, a one-on-one combat to the death with a devil, to become a full member. Among an array of weapons he notably carries a silver longsword and a shield that looks like it has been used as a ram.
He shares privately with his companions, "I'm wary of the Razmiran...I've had nothing but trouble in my adventures so far. Though, I hope that this will change for the sake of building the society."
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The delicate-appearing young man wanders about the deck of the ship, a perfumed handkerchief in his sleeve that he uses frequently to blot his brow, cheeks, and face. Though it is obvious that he wears makeup, the general appearance is comely. Aloysius makes sure not to exert himself too much in order to avoid sweating, and directs his hired hand as such.
"Chall, do bring the parasol this way," the young man directs his burly hireling, using the parasol as a sun block.
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Aloysius approaches the refugee family.
"My dears, do tell me your story. It would seem that you've seen a world of hurt. I'm Aloysius Armadatring, Pathfinder envoy, at your service."
He daintily drags a crate in front of the forlorn family and perches on it, shooting eyes at his man-servant to make sure the parasol blocks out the sun over him.
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A portly, bespectacled Ulfen man ambles closer to the conversation. He wears thick hide armor befitting his people. His only weapon is a small blade so pristine an ungodly amount of time must be spent on its upkeep, or more likely it never sees use. A small white dog lopes alongside him wherever he goes on the ship.
The man earlier introduced himself to his fellow agents as Pyotr, "but a humble merchant from simpler lands," as he phrased it. He makes up for Aloysius's lack of interest in Victus, and has already asked both men all about themselves. He didn't seem too fussed if the answers weren't up to snuff. The Ulfen hasn't talked to the other passengers yet, but only thanks to lack of time. Now that they're being engaged, he sits on the deck to join in.
"You know, I recently starred in a play regarding this tragedy. Quite high-brow, a bit too much so, I'd say," he croons. "I've hoped to revise it to better encompass the effect it had on everyone. More about you gentle folk than some mighty crusader known the world over. It's done to death - sorry, carry on."
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"You're a merchant who happens to also star in plays?" Aloysius levels the question at Piotr over his shoulder. "Chall? The parasol, please."
"Thank you -- As I was saying...OH MY GARTERS your dog is so cute! What's his name?"
Despite the quick-fire tone and the obvious infatuation with the canine, Aloysius only slightly shifts on his perch to take in the Ulfen and his dog.
At the elf's feet lounges a cat, a species some of you might recognise as a cougar although it is clearly still a juvenile.
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"I am many things," Pyotr replies, looking pleased by the attention. "Though those two occupations are hardly attention-grabbing to Society recruiters. More to their liking, I'm an arms dealer, trading in the strongest weapon of them all - information. You look like a man who appreciates the value there."
The Ulfen sours a bit as talk turns to the dog. "Ugh, always stealing the spotlight! He's called Boru, or so he says. And he's not even mine. He just follows me around like a less talented shadow. But I will admit, he has his strong suits, including a discerning taste and quite the arsenal of exotic profanity. Care to put on a show?" The question is turned at Boru. As one might expect, the dog doesn't speak up.
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A tightly muscled goblin has been hanging about the general area without coming too close to either of the animal companions aboard. Like his own person, his gear seems functional, though not necessarily clean. At first he seems to be grimacing all the time, but an observer might eventually conclude it to be his resting expression.
An older human man keeps close to him. Occasionally Rout hands the man some small item and the man does something with it and then hands it back.
Rout knows how to get rid of dogs that won't stop following you, he offers, in a tone that one might offer to share a trick for getting a stain out of a garment.
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Victus speaks to Khunbish, "It's a pyramid scheme. A giant pyramid scheme for a fake god." His voice goes from disgust to reverence when he adds, "at least Zon-Kuthon has something to show for himself. He saved Nidal during the Earthfall and perpetually enslaved the Nidalese."
Victus believes Aloysius has the right idea of talking to the locals on the ship though and would like to talk with them as well. He'll keep his conspiracy theories and proselyting to himself.
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"Hello, Boru!" Aloysius waggles his fingers at the small dog. "It doesn't sound like much affection is lavished upon you, you poor mutt."
The young man sighs to himself, checks the parasol held by his man Chall for sun coverage, and pats at his brow with his handkerchief.
"*ahem* Anyhow, my dear refugees, you were about to share your tragic story with us." He turns back to the family.
The refugees are a family of two parents and their three hungry children, all humans. The mother looks alert as the Pathfinders approach, running her hand through her oldest son's tangled brown hair. "Oh, Pathfinders? I hope that means it's true that Razmiran is opening the borders some. My name's Jesyn, I worked as a cook in Lastwall before..." She and her family get quiet for a moment, in remembrance of "before" and what happened after. "...anyway, we picked this ship from the docks where we were fleeing because it was less crowded. We'd heard from other sailors that the refugee crises in Ustalav and Absalom were becoming too much, so we thought why not take our chances here. Lots of stories about building new lives in the River Kingdoms, right?"
The boy acts very shy, burying his face in his mother's skirts while still looking at the adventurers. Jesyn smiles. "The Pathfinders fought bravely outside the walls back home. Oscre here always dreamed of becoming a Knight of Ozem, but I think he might want to become a Pathfinder someday after all that."
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A timid elf walks around the ship and tries to examine the bulbs of Whisper Lily. "Fascinating," he muses to himself brings out his journal. You hear bottles clinking as he takes out a worn out leather-bound tome, some of the pages about to fall off.
As the others introduce themselves, he takes notice of the group and extends his hand. " Pleasure to meet you all. My name is Erevan Dalanthan and I've been studying different species of plants along my travels. This particular plant really has me curious as to what other property it might have."
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"Razmiran may be new to me. But while I'm here, I'll be holding to some advice I've learned is very important in the River Kingdoms too," Pyotr says sagely. "Always watch your back! Although it can be a good place, depending on where you settle. I'm sure you'll have little trouble rebuilding there."
The Ulfen gladly returns the handshake. "Welcome, Erevan. If we have any time off, I could talk your ear off about that sort of thing. And vice versa, I'm sure!"
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Khunbish simply nods at Erevan but otherwise does not speak further. He unconsciously strokes the fur of Irves, while studying the refugee family, feeling a sense of trepidation at entering the territory even just from the little he knows.
”It’s good to have a goal to work towards, young child,” he assures Oscre with a gentle voice. ”And the Pathfinder Society is as noble a goal as one could find.”
He then turns to study the merchants, not quite comfortable to approach them. Irves starts to growl almost imperceptibly.
The lad hides again, clearly more from embarrassment than fear. His parents smile faintly as their nerves appear to settle somewhat. Suddenly the ship's bosun, a husky man with a patchy beard, bellows out. "LAND HO! GATHER YER B'LONGIN'S, DOCK'S STRAIGHT AHEAD!"
The Queen of Elysium pulls alongside the dock of the small Razmiri village of Prophet’s Rest, with the sun just beginning to burn the morning mist off the Glass River. The rickety wooden dock is quiet, with only a few fishermen going about their business while a single guard in the yellow and purple colors of Razmiran leans lazily against a longspear. He jumps to attention when the ship’s gangplank comes crashing down, then lumbers toward the ship, stretching his stiff limbs.
As the other passengers move to disembark, a priest of Razmir appears out of the fog. He wears an iron mask and white robes, and comes flanked by two more guards. The priest places himself at the bottom of the gangplank, ready to meet the travelers.
The first group to descend is the group of three poorly-clad Razmiri merchants, carrying goods in large sacks on their backs. They hand a small bag to the priest, who peers inside, then nods and gestures for them to move on.
Next is Jesyn's family, who fish through their packs and hand a few silver coins to the masked priest. He looks at the coins with obvious disdain and hands the money back, motioning for the family to return to the ship. When Jesyn shakes her head and moves to argue with him, he points at Oscre and states in a nasily voice, “If you cannot pay the immigration fee, you may dedicate your child to the Razmiran priesthood instead.” Jesyn's face goes pale.
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Pyotr considers calling below-decks for the Eagle Knight or a slaver to discuss the boy's ownership, but decides against it. Too much effort and loose ends. Not that he plans on being entirely honest with these folk.
"Unfortunately, I have prior claim to the boy. My previous assistant met an untimely end and the family was willing to deal for a fresh start elsewhere. The child even agreed. But see, they were scared of you, worried you might take offense if they admitted he was already taken!" The man lets out an exaggerated chuckle. "Don't worry. If he isn't up to snuff, I'll bring him back here, with no doubt you'll make a better person of him."
The Ulfen nods in mock agreement at the priest's grudging response. "Perfectly understandable. Your people are entitled to their fair share. I will take responsibility, considering I have helped them this far. Not that it makes much of a dent in my finances anyway." He hands over 10 coins from the satchel.
The priest pauses, feels the coins in his hand, then nods. "So be it. Guards, take the newcomers to join the others. All debts are paid, so you may depart for Xer." He turns about as the guards wave the family toward a horse-drawn cart with a half dozen other peasants aboard.
Jesyn's eyes well up, and she looks to Pyotr. "Thank you! Thank you for keeping my family together. Blessings of all the gods upon you and the Pathfinders." She and the others rush to the wagon, nearly bowling over another priest who is walking briskly down the dock toward you. This new priest wears a silver mask and blue silk robes edged with silver hemming, likely indicating a different rank from the priest you initially dealt with. His voice is clearer and bolstered with enthusiasm. "Aha! Pathfinders! Welcome to Razmiran! I am Mask Narsen, short for Mask of the Twelfth Step. Please, join me at the inn, we can hammer out the remaining details of our agreement there. How was your journey? I imagine these lands appear modest by comparison to your Society's famed exploits, but it is hard to ignore the glorious aura of wondrous Razmir, thrice-blessed be His name, that graces His domain!"
***
As you enter the village, you see a ruin about a mile away on top of a tall promontory rock overlooking the village and the Glass River valley . Even from a distance, it looks to be in poor repair. In the village itself, the buildings you pass on the way to the inn are all recently painted, and many windowsills are decorated with colorful flower boxes or draped with the yellow and purple flag of Razmiran. On its face, the hamlet looks rich and prosperous.
Narsen leads you to the inn, presently staffed by a homely middle-aged human woman with a gray bun and bland attire. Narsen sweeps toward the bar where she polishes silverware. "Blessings of Razmir upon you, Lotte! Might we have a private room?" He places a coin on the bar, prompting the innkeeper to turn around with a start. She hurriedly brings all of you to a back room, where a modest but tasty lunch of root vegetables and mutton awaits.
Narsen gestures for you to take seats and enjoy the food. "This is all very exciting! I have been preparing for your arrival here for several months now. You see, I was able to convince the Visions of the Fifteenth Step—the highest echelon of the Razmiri government—to allow the Pathfinder Society access to our blessed nation to establish a lodge in an abandoned fort. You probably saw it on our way here, truly fine real estate, less than hour’s travel from Xer. The building is called Fort Agate, and although it's been uninhabited for some time I'm sure you'll find the good villagers of Prophet's Rest willing to help you make any necessary repairs—for a price, of course. Would you like to see the site for yourself, or would you like to tour the village first? I'm delighted to answer any questions you have, of course."
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"Maybe not all the gods," Pyotr winks at Jesyn. "Only one person I've met has much good to say of that Lamashtu lass. Do try to stand up for yourselves if any more give you a hard time - but not too much so." He nods respectfully to Narsen, but doesn't say anything just yet.
During the luncheon, he sits back and starts slinging questions. "I'm glad you're enthusiastic about this endeavor. You must be, to have convinced those of such high station. But if I may ask, what brought you to that point? Perhaps an acquaintance in Lastwall spared from some awful fate? I've heard that one a few times before.
"And Fort Agate, is that the big building elevated a ways higher than the rest of town? I hope the citizens don't get the wrong idea from that. But it looks like a good fixer-upper. I'd rather peek around town first, though."
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Aloyisus stands in awe of Piotr's skills.
Before Jesyn and Oscre part ways, Aloysius walks up to the boy.
"Here," the young man says, placing one of the coins provided by the head of the Envoy's Alliance in the palm of the child, "is a reminder of what fate may hold in store for you, little friend."
Aloysius makes sure to not draw attention to the given gift, ruffling the hair of the child as he departs.
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Victus notices the empty streets though he makes no mention of it to those around him. Instead he continues to remain silent as they walk.
----
"Hm, I would perhaps like to visit the Fort first. I imagine it will give us a better idea of what aid to hire though I will defer to my companions' preference. Can you tell us the history of the ..blessed.. fort? Also, why did it fall into disrepair?"
During the luncheon, he sits back and starts slinging questions. "I'm glad you're enthusiastic about this endeavor. You must be, to have convinced those of such high station. But if I may ask, what brought you to that point? Perhaps an acquaintance in Lastwall spared from some awful fate? I've heard that one a few times before.
"No specific acquaintances, but you're not wrong in your suspicions. The divine grace of Holiest Razmir spared our home from the devastation wrought by the Whispering Tyrant's escape. I'm sure that His radiance will continue to hold the lich at bay, for His power is unmatched and His righteousness is true, but the collapse of Gallowspire was a warning to me that, as safe as glorious Razmiran may be, our land borders the lich's domain, and the grace of Holy Razmir may not be felt as completely among His faithful if Tar-Baphon surrounds us with death. Furthermore, if the legends are true, the Whispering Tyrant has proven strong enough to challenge gods in the past; while Holiest Razmir would certainly triumph in such a conflict, many of His faithful might die, and I would not see His flock culled by such evil." He steeples his fingertips, tilting his wrists to accentuate each point. "A network of information beyond our borders, an organization of skilled and powerful agents, and a pipeline to reliable trade routes away from the Whispering Tyrant's clutches all seemed like valuable assets. The Pathfinder Society can provide us with those things during these uncertain times."
"And Fort Agate, is that the big building elevated a ways higher than the rest of town? I hope the citizens don't get the wrong idea from that. But it looks like a good fixer-upper. I'd rather peek around town first, though."
"Yes, that's the one! As you can see, it is strategically located and noteworthy in presentation, once it's been repaired a bit. Please, feel free to introduce yourselves the townsfolk before you proceed to the keep."
"Can you tell us the history of the ..blessed.. fort? Also, why did it fall into disrepair?"
“The fort was last held by a bandit lord before the coming of Razmir, thrice-blessed be His name, but the ruin is several hundred years older than that. It was most likely built by a Taldan or Kellid lord long ago to control the estuary of the Glass River. It may be in rough shape, but it has strong bones!”
Prophet’s Rest is about a half-day’s journey down‑river from the city of Xer and is situated on a bluff above the Glass River near where it empties into Lake Encarthan.
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Even though the ruin is clearly visible from Prophet’s Rest, Fort Agate is located a little under an hour’s walk away along old, overgrown game trails that wind through steep, wooded hills.
The northeast watchtower may have once been used to observe the movement of ships on the Glass River, but has by now collapsed almost completely. It currently stands barely 12 feet tall and leans dangerously to the east, its fieldstones jutting out at odd angles, giving it a very precarious appearance. Climbing the tower, with its many loose flagstones will be dangerous for those of Small size or larger. Although the watchtower cannot be repaired in its current state, it might be able to be safely demolished.
Great Hall: The great hall is accessed from the ground level of the courtyard by a spiral stone ramp that is 10 feet across and winds up the outside of the keep to a landing where the front door once was located. The door fell to pieces long ago, and all that is left is an empty doorway that leads into the great hall. The room inside is covered in broken masonry and pieces of wood. The ceiling of the great hall has a 10-foot-square hole
in it, open to the sky, that leads up to the roof. A wooden staircase, long since decayed, once ascended to the upper story. The anchor holes for the staircase can still be seen on three sides of the wall.
Ruined Barracks: While the walls and furnishings of this former dormitory have been severely damaged from roof leaks, its foundations and framing are in good condition. With substantial repairs, it could once again provide a comfortable shelter to future denizens of the fort.
Roof: With the stairs missing, there is no easy way to access the roof.
Dungeon: In the southeastern corner of the great hall is a winding staircase and a set of passageways that leads toward the dungeons. These passageways are blocked by rubble, and are currently inaccessible.
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Aloysius takes note of the various town members he thinks might make good targets for one of Fola Barun's tokens, secures a room at the inn (he will NOT be staying at the keep - for shame!), and then heads to the keep for a look-see alongside his manservant Chall. He does not even bother to attempt any of the more strenuous climbs about the fort.
He then returns to the inn, more to secure his room then to meet further with the odd Razmiran.
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Khunbish takes his time to slowly get a sense of the village. Human dwellings still strike him as strange but after the few months in Absalom, he is starting to get a sense. He particularly enjoys talking with Sylvina Norritch as they share some herbalism tips, although he has to hold tightly onto Irves who gets excited seeing the rats.
He then follows the group as they make the way up to the fort.
Now out in the open, he feels more at ease and spots the strange droppings. He shares with the group, "Strange, these are droppings of ..."
Aloysius seems to have spotted something although if he doesn't offer, Khunbish does not ask.
At the courtyard, Khunbish feels the impulse to climb up the fallen tower to get a good look around. Pulling himself up was easy, but the fallen debris prove too unstable and he retreats.
In the keep, again the impulse strikes him and he attempts to climb to the roof, with rather unfortunate results...
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Erevan goes around town and greets the people along the way. He takes a keen interest at the temple and decides to spend more time there after checking out the fort.
He notices droppings at the base of the cliff and examines it.
But he doesn't seem to know where they came from.
He notices ring hidden among the stones and takes it.
He doesn't see anything peculiar in the area and moves on.
Nothing to see here as well.
He notices another set of droppings and examines it further.
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Rout sees Khunbish's attempt and has to try it, easily scampering up the side and keeping his balance up top. He takes a look around...
Rout pulls out a bunch of paper. Glances at some of them and tosses them aside, but seems to fixate with more interest on one deeper in the pile. Ah, this one more interesting he mumbles. He folds it up and puts it in a pouch.
Rout notices Erevan examining the droppings and shakes his head.
Flush with success over climbing the tower, Rout again attempts to climb after Khunbish, but this time falls on his butt.
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Victus explores the town. He takes note of the inn as suitable accommodations should they be needed. He also takes note of Junissa Yovitch who may be helpful in the repairs.
Begrudgingly he makes his way into the Temple of Razmir and does not spend a minute longer in there then he has to. Sickening...
The rest of time in town he familiarizes himself with everyone as best he can. All the while he remains mostly silent unless needing to talk.
When the group is ready to head to the fort he accompanies them.
He also notices the droppings at the base of the cliff and disagrees with Khunbish. "No, no, these are clearly droppings of...."
He takes note of the hole in the wall but and also the loose stone, but Erevan notices this more quickly and recovers the ring first.
Victus doesn't take note of anything in particular at first. He looks towards the watchtower and considers climbing it but sees that Rout has exceptionally handled the situation already. Victus doesn't feel he could best that and merely applauds.
crit fail.
Victus doesn't take note of anything as he falls into a daydream of becoming a full-fledged Hellknight.
His daydream continues as leads the group on and not really paying attention.
He doesn't make it to the roof though he may try again latter.
Victus takes note of the rubble blocking the way. He turns around and asks the group, "Well, where to next?"
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On the way to Fort Agate, Pyotr mentions, "I noticed coming in that there weren't many townsfolk about, mostly soldiers. And more important than the nice buildings we were shown are those just out of sight, which were simply awful! Maybe the Razmiri are bringing in new blood to live in and touch up the town, and this can be explained away. But somehow I doubt that."
He sees the droppings on the way in and takes Khunbish's side. "I agree, there is no doubt these are..."
He watches Erevan pick up the ring, idly checking it for magic before losing interest.
More droppings still in the courtyard, which Pyotr checks to see if they were the same as the earlier ones. He is glad Rout as scales the rubble with ease, saving him from having to try and likely hurting himself.
"It's well fortified here, if we were so miserly as to dodge a room fare," he observes of the barracks and dungeon. "But I can't think of any other reason to sleep here. Shall we depart?"
The Pathfinders wander about the keep, sharing what they find. Pyotr, Khunbish, and Victus, get into an argument over the scat, the former two convinced it was left by giant geckos while the latter insists it came from monstrous slurks; Khunbish ultimately wins the debate by addressing how geckos have uncanny climbing ability, making a crumbling ruin like this an ideal hunting ground. Rout begins making his way up the crumbling watchtower, with a shapechanged Khunbish slithering close behind.
Khunbish notices some movement ahead. As the two reach the top, there is a rustling sound as four critters with double sets of leathery wings and long, pointed proboscises wriggle out of a small chamber in the dilapidated roof!
Priority since they are undetected by Pyotr, who tied.
Monsters
Pyotr
Khunbish (snake form, 10-ft high)
Victus
Erevan
Rout (10-ft high)
Aloysius
***
Red: ◆ Sneak, ◆ , ◆
Orange: ◆ Sneak, ◆ , ◆
Yellow: ◆ Sneak, ◆ Sneak, ◆
Green: ◆ Sneak, ◆ , ◆
The monsters seem to pop out of nowhere, lunging at the Pathfinders with their needle-like proboscises. Rout gets stuck twice as the attached critters' abdomens swell with his blood, while Khunbish dodges the oncoming bite and Victus's armor repels the beast.
Pyotr
Khunbish (snake form, 10-ft high)
Victus
Erevan
Rout (10-ft high, -8 HP, drained 1)
Aloysius
Red Monster (10-ft high, attached to Rout [flat-footed], +4 HP)
Orange Monster (10-ft high)
Yellow Monster
Green Monster (10-ft high, attached to Rout [flat-footed], +3 HP)
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Pyotr draws his rapier, not looking like he's about to use it. "Of course, brainless bugs! They're ironic folk, good at hiding because they have nothing to offer, and they drink one's blood as if it might one day let them be us. Taking our all and giving nothing back. There's no fooling them, I'd wager. But that doesn't faze our heroes..."
◆ Recall Knowledge (◇ Loremaster's Etude)
◆ Interact to Draw
◆ Inspire Courage
Irves roars and leaps at the one creature within his reach.
It takes Rout a second to get his arm around the beast sucking his blood, but he ultimately draws his spear and sticks the beast with it, skewering it like a sausage on a kebab. Unfortunately the beast tears off some of the goblin's skin as it falls, but the second one appears shaken by its mate's sudden death. Deaths, rather, as Khunbish the snake strikes with lightning speed at the other midge attached to Rout, killing it instantly. Down below, Aloysius, Erevan, and Irves work together to tear the creature to a bloody pulp, leaving only one frightened beastie that tries to latch onto the vicious snake.
Khunbish's serpent reflexes are too quick for the midge, which succumbs to its terror and flies away.
Pyotr
Khunbish (snake form, 10-ft high)
Victus (10-ft high)
Erevan
Rout (10-ft high, -9 HP, drained 1, persistent bleed 1)
Aloysius
Red Midge (10-ft high, dead)
Orange Midge (10-ft high, fleeing)
Yellow Midge (dead)
Green Midge (10-ft high, dead)
***
With the threat repelled, you finish scoping out the rest of the keep before returning to Narsen at the inn. "Oh my, looks like the keep was more exciting than I gave it credit for, after being abandoned for so long. I trust you were all able to handle yourselves, though. After all, you're back here, right?! In any case, I've secured you all a sizable shipment of lumber for your renovations, as well as a stonemason currently lodging here at the Melcat's Folly. You have the rest of the townsfolk at your disposal as well. For the right price, they will work hard—" He flashes a glance to Lotte. "—isn't that right?" The innkeeper hurriedly nods.
Narsen claps his hands together. "Splendid. Well, best of luck Pathfinders! I'd best be off; I must return to Xer to speak to my superiors and facilitate the continued cooperation between our government and your Society. I shall return in a few weeks, no more than a month, I promise. In the meantime, you'd best get started. A fort’s not much good without a door to close!" With that, he gathers his robes and makes his way back toward the docks.
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Aloysius shudders as the last of the midges flies away. "Brrrrr..." he says.
Back at the inn, Aloysius nods at Narsen's words but carefully guards his tongue, cautious to speak up lest his disbelief at the charity on display leak out of his mouth.
Once the team begins discussing their plan to restore the old fort, Aloysius surreptitiously gets Piotr's attention.