GM Hawthwile's Beyond the Halflight Path (Inactive)

Game Master Hawthwile

The road to Kaer Maga was long, but the journey uneventful. As the Pathfinders find the Drunken Fool tavern, they have a chance to rest for the evening and share dinner with their companions before the expedition the following day.

This is an excellent opportunity to get to introduce yourself and get to know your fellow adventurers - or reminisce about past adventures together.

A half-orc sporting full plate strides into the tavern. Etched into the armor and both images and symbols venerating Shelyn as well as what appear to be runes of a necromatic nature. While the differing messages should be at odds with one another, the styles actually compliment one another. In his hand is the weapon of his goddess. A pristine glaive, with the star metal polished to give the blade a mirror like finish.

He looks around for any familiar faces. Seeing none, he makes his way to the bar. First here I guess. He orders an ale, then rests his frame on a nearby stool; keeping an eye on the entrance.

A dwarf smelling of herbs approaches Korum. He is unkempt but looks quite healthy! At his side you see a small dinosaur.

”Hey you half-orc. You surely are a Pathfinder! Sadaf Kargar! It is a pleasure doing business with you! If you have any interest in natural resources or animal products then I am your expert!!!“ Sadaf says.

—-

Sadaf is a young Dwarf from an Osiriani merchant family that always felt the pull of the wilderness and saurian animals.

He is a stoic negotiator but has an empathic approach. He is very perceptive and understands people's motives which are qualities that are very important as a merchant.

He typically walks around in his lamellar horn armor and during battle usually tries not to attack but use spells and his animal companion ‘Danduun’ instead.

Sadaf's family has deep roots in the Exchange faction of the Pathfinder Society.

Thus, the Kargar brothers Almaas, Jangafzaar, Toral and Sadaf are all members of the Pathfinder Society.

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"So what’s your story Mr Glaive?!" he says looking at his small dinosaur.

The paladin offers his hand. "Well met Sadaf. Name's Korum. Can I get you something from the bar as we wait?" He takes a moment to take a sip of his own ale before responding to the dwarf's question. "My story, huh? Well, when I was about eight, my village was over run by an undead horde. No warning, took us all completely by surprise. The guards gave as good as they got, but it came down to numbers. I ran out of my hut, and grabbed the first weapon I could find. It was long, and unwieldy, but it wasn't like I had much choice. I was able to scramble to a neighbor's roof and take advantage of the length, stabbing down at the mindless corpses." Korum's eyes gloss over as he begins to relive the night. "But then some of the monsters that retained some semblance of thought saw me and started to climb. That was it. It was dead. I closed my eyes and asked any god that would listen to keep me from turning into one of those abominations. I was going to die, but I didn't want to loose my soul." He smiles, "Then, there was the baying of a wolf. A howl that pierced the night. Suddenly, the biggest wolf I have ever seen, before or since, burst out of the night. It started tearing through the horde, making its way toward me." He looks at Sadaf, "I know I'm supposed to say how strong and brave I was. Truth be told, I froze. I thought for certain that some god heard me and sent this wolf to cull me and save my soul. When it leapt up to the roof with me, it started ravaging the ghouls that had just climbed over the lip."

Korum takes a long pull from his mug. "She stayed with me all night. Keeping me safe. Occasionally, she'd nudge the glaive with her snout, pushing me toward a group coming forward."

He shakes his head as if he still can't believe the events of the night. "Next thing I knew, the sun was rising, the horde was destroyed, and I survived. The wolf didn't even nod or anything, she just disappeared into the morning mist. But I knew. I hadn't a doubt. Shelyn sent that wolf. Seems I was prayin' while holding her weapon of choice. I figure my life was over that night, so I have spent all the days since trying to do right by her. Well, that and trying to destroy any undead monstrosity I can."

He gestures his mug at the dinosaur, "I imagine you didn't just pick him up at a local shop."

Just outside the inn, a dwarf stands on an overturned crate and accosts pedestrians. "The end is nigh!" he shouts. "Repent! Or don't! It doesn't matter when all ends in fire and flame."

Sadaf listens intently.

"Hmmm ... undead horde ... defended yourself although you were close to death. Very brave to admit that you needed help and could not have done it alone Korum! My brother is a very devout follower of Shelyn so I already like you and am glad that you were saved!" he says with a crocked smile.

He then looks at his companion Danduun.

"Yeahh, Danduun rather found me. No idea why dinosaurs are attracted to me. Living beings are usually repelled." he says a little self-consciously.

* * *

When Makras enters, Sadaf starts smiling.

"Makras!! So good to live through the end of the world with you!!" Sadaf says and starts laughing.

"The bread is rye, you say?" asks a familiar, irritatingly smug pretty face as she passes a loaf into Makras's gesturing hand. "Come now, Mister Vekker, your throat must be as dry as the dust we will all surely dissipate into at the end of days. There are drinks inside, and by the glow coming from within, I am certain we have found our half-orc friend once more."

The pistol at Lady Vulpina's hip has an odd look about it that was not there before; shadows play at the end of the barrel in a way that is simply not natural with the light.

Regardless of Makras's response (but with a hand on his shoulder to guide him in, should he agree), the noblewoman steps inside and grins as she sees a familiar pair.

"You have saved a few stools for us, I trust?" she asks, crossing the tavern.

Korum nearly takes the bait on her choice of words. With a smile, he suppresses the urge to say anything crude. "Ah, Lady Vulpina, a pleasure as always. I see you found civilization's last hope and brought him in with you." He offers the pair a drink. "You look good Vulpina. How have you been?"

”Quite well,” she says, taking the offered drink and raising a brief toast before drinking. ”Pirates again. I fear if they continue to deploy me against the like, they may seek to emulate my style. Would it not be odd if pirates became known for wielding a curved blade alongside a pistol in pitched sea battles?”

Hmm.

”I have availed myself of the Society’s enchanters and am quite looking forward to testing them. What of yourself? I hear you were indisposed for our prior engagement. Do tell me she was a fairer sight than you?” She takes another sip and playfully raises her eyebrows.

Thinking of his goddess, he answers without a shred of deceit. He raises his mug in a toast. "The fairest of 'em all." He leans in a little closer, "How's the new guy? He's a little light on the details, but he seems alright."

A faint gleam of recognition appears in Makras' bloodshot eyes as Lady Vulpina leads him into the tavern. He seems confused as to why she keeps following him everywhere, but in the end decides that the question, like everything else in the cosmos, doesn't really matter.

”I will provide details another time, but suffice to say that he was able to ruin a phalanx before they reached our blades, illuminate the dangers before us, and slow a giant’s footsteps—all with one spell.”

”And he seems to bathe more oft than Vekker, so he has that going for him as well.”

Sadaf shouts with a surprised look on his face.

"Ahhhh, Lady Vulpina! Curious to see you again! Usually, I do not end up with the same people again. Or people in general do not end up we me ... ehh ... in general I mean." and he insecurely looks at the Tien lady and then at Makras with a shrug.

"So you two already know our Shelynite companion??" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

”Why, certainly,” says Vulpina. Though he is nothing to lose one’s head over! Or shall I say that there is no one I would rather have negotiating with undead as they tear civilians limb from limb? No, that is inelegant. Perhaps a more delicate phrasing would obscure his folly but still irritate?

”He is a good friend,” she settles on.

dot...will get caught up in a bit..sorry forgot this game was starting...

Doran strides through the front door of the tavern. He looks around and a smile seems to crack his stern face as he sees familiar faces. He heads over to the bar and shakes hands with the others.

Well, this might be getting to be a regular thing then, eh? Got any decent whiskey back there? Need a stiff drink. So...what's the gist of our mission..any idea? Might not hurt to get some gear before heading out... the Taldan says as he grabs some snacks from the bar with a meaty scarred hand.

”As I understand it, we are to be deployed on a mission of sensitivity. Lives and wealth are at stake, and we are liable to be attacked by people who will resist all attempts at diplomacy and nonlethal restraint.”

She takes a sip; ”If I am wrong, Makras may determine my outfit next mission.”

Makras heads to the bar to order an ale. After dumping out a pouch of greasy copper coins to pay, he sits down heavily at the table with the other Pathfinders, sloshing half his drink on the table. He rudely interrupts the conversation. "I have seen something important! The world will not end in a fiery apocalypse. I was wrong about that. Instead, entropy will reign and the universe will slowly succumb to the gradual eternal chill of utter motionlessness. Prepare thyselves accordingly!"

Sadaf is truly confused by this new proclamation.

”Makras! Are you sure about that?! I was really looking forward to the other.. Ehh ... well ... that ... ahh ... I shut up!“ the uncharismatic dwarf says after a botched attempt of an improvised joke and sits down.

”Here I had all my summer outfits packed—and now you are telling me to dress for cold!”

The Pathfinders each received a letter from Sheila Heidmarch, the venture-captain overseeing operations in Varisia, before they set out for Kaer Maga some weeks ago.

Greetings Friends,

For some time I have been making diplomatic inroads into Kaer Maga, the so-called City of Strangers. The Society would love to gain access to the many vaults carved beneath the city long ago. However, because of the danger of the vaults, the group in charge of protecting them - the Duskwardens - rarely allows anyone to stray from their carefully patrolled paths. The Duskwardens seemed willing to consider allowing Pathfinders to venture beyond their protection, but only if we were acting on behalf of one of the city’s major factions with their endorsement. They want us to prove that we are willing to work as partners to a faction and that we will not upset the city’s existing balance of power.

After receiving the Duskwarden’s reply, I reached out to the leaders of several of the city’s largest factions with evidence of our agents’ skill and goodwill. Most of the responses I received were noncommittal. However, Horus Ilaktya took a greater interest. Illyakta is the de facto leader of the Ankar-Te District. He has asked me to send a group of agents to investigate a recent event that has caused property damage in his district.

A word of caution - very few in Kaer Maga are beacons of morality. In Ankar-Te, necromancy is respected, and people openly walk the streets with their undead servants. Horus is the owner of a shop called the Last Rites, the district’s largest purveyor of mindless undead, or, as they locals euphemistically call them, Twice-Born. Horus lives by his own code, a code that should make it safe for you to interact with him as long as you don’t interfere with his merchandise. He doesn’t kill people, and he only uses corpses that he purchases from the families of the deceased. In keeping with his faith in Urgathoa, he sees these “rebirths” as a gift, and is unlikely to react well to any suggestions to the contrary.

I understand some of you may find his occupation and methods distasteful, but please keep the larger mission in mind and avoid causing any diplomatic incidents.

Sincerely,

Sheila Heidmarch

The letter also included a rough map of Kaer Maga, with the location of Horus Ilaktya's store in the Ankar-Te district clearly marked.

Now, many days later, the Pathfinder agents have convened at the Drunken Fool inn and tavern. In the morning, Kaer Maga awaits.

What do you do?

The faceless mass of gray fur tries to open the Drunken Fool's door with slight difficulty, then resorts to a spell instead. Loam is still a riot of color, what with her golden rat and pink-trimmed robes, which are a slightly darker shade of green this time. The ratfolk notices some familiar faces where she expected strangers, and looks more enthusiastic for it (she must have missed Makras amidst the crowd).

"I shouldn't have been so firmly against disturbances, it seems," she says with an obscured smile. "But my last assignment put me in close proximity to all manner of interesting magic. Had I known who I was working with today, I would've looked at my letter sooner, and been on time. How have you all been keeping?"

Upon reading the dispatch, the paladin's mood instantly sours.

Heidmarch! No doubt she picked me especially for this assignment. It's an assualt on my faith, duty and calling. This is her payback for last time. I know it in my bones. Using her VC clout to play games and get a little vengeance. Who the hell is she to manipulate agents like this? May as well send me to Geb to host a dinner and open trade negotiations.

His eyes scan the gathered agents. If I don't go, and they have a run-in with some abomination? I'd never forgive myself. Damn you Sheila! How can you put innocent lives at risk just to exact petty revenge for feeling slighted. You are not worthy of your position.

Korum spits. "Damn her!"

”Well, this day continues to improve, does it not? Loam, I feel it has been an age since I last saw you. Come, I’ve saved one of the high stools,” she says, pulling it over. ”I had rather hoped to see you or Miss Shecks.”

She raises an eyebrow at Korum. ”Is something the matter? If you want service, I believe it is customary to tap your drink upon the table in these parts.”

Korum shakes his head. "No, its that bi.. er witch, Heidmarch. She's got a set on her, that's for sure. Though if she had any courage, she would have said all this to my face. She's a piece of work." He tips his tankard and empties it with a few gulps. "She represents the worst of what The Pathfinders can be. She makes choices that put agents at risk. I'm not saying the missions per se. There is always an inherent element of danger with those. It's her politics. The job of a venture captain is to ensure success and provide support for the agents under her command. Heidmarch seems to have little regard for those she is responsible for."

"Oh, I remember the last disaster she sent us on," Loam nods in agreement. "A pity the Society feels they have to associate with her. Some would call such slimy indifference worse than an honest evildoer, though I don't know if I agree."

"But we have to be on top of the world to tear it down. The more we act as her toadies, the more change we can enact down the line."

Vulpina raises an eyebrow. "I feel as if she is assigned the head of jobs that the Society needs performed but does not need attention for. To that end, she's generally been quite effective."

She sips her drink and stares at nothing. "Besides, better us to be assigned to this than a squadron of twitchy-bladed scoundrels. Should things go south and this is a trap meant to lure Pathfinder agents to their demise at the hands of the undead, who better to have on our side than you, Korum?"

She clears her throat. "Once you've finished attempting to negotiate with them, at any rate."

Sadaf shrugs.

"Never met the woman before so I cannot comment. But this city seems very different to what normal people call 'normal' I suppose"

The half-orc holds up a finger, "That was ONE time, V!"

Vulpina eyes the finger. ”Is that how many times it happened, or how many limbs that fellow has remaining?”

The way I look at it is similar to Lady V here...some missions need discretion...or deniability. Makes sense...avoid any undue scrutiny. Doran says as he takes a long pull on his mug of ale.

Makras' pungent body order often makes people think he's the walking dead anyway. He stumbles along after the other Pathfinders, talking to himself and occasionally pulling on his hair.

Apologies for the long delay.

Their mission still a mystery, the Pathfinders pay for their drinks and retire for the evening. The other patrons of the Drunken Fool are quite boisterous and rowdy, but the inn's rooms are thankfully at the other end of the building.

Dawn comes without notice for most of Kaer Maga, as the city is shadowed by the very rock walls it is built into. Multitudes of lamps and torches still cast the streets of Ankar-Te in a perpetual twilight, their light shimmering and twinkling through a perpetual fog of incense. The Venture-Captain's directions point to a well-kept shop with a sign stating "Last Rites" in white and gold trim. The interior of the shop has far from the somber appearance its name suggests. Fresh-cut flowers stand in vases throughout the room, filling the air with a pleasant fragrance. The walls are painted light green, and multiple still life paintings hang in gilded frames from the walls.

A tall, thin, middle-aged man stands near a long marble table in the center of the room. He smiles and gestures at the finely crafted mahogany chairs around the table before settling himself into the one at the end. He then picks up a tiny bell and rings it. At the far end of the room, a door opens and a figure dressed as a servant enters, carrying a tray. The figure’s movements are stiff and its eyes stare straight ahead as it sets a tray with a decanter of deep red wine and several glasses down gently. The creature then turns and leaves the room.

“Pathfinders!” says the man at the table, as he offers the wine. “How pleasant that you could come. I am Horus Ilaktya, owner of this establishment and a leader of the Ankar-Te district. Your Venture-Captain - that is the correct term, yes? - Sheila Heidmarch promised to send some of her most capable agents. I am sure I will be pleased with what you have to offer. But on to business."

“I would like you to investigate a problem in my district. Just the other day I began to hear reports of property damage in the district, but I have not had time to investigate these reports myself. Since I knew I had Pathfinders on the way, I thought I’d leave it up to you to determine the cause of this damage and eliminate any threat to Ankar-Te’s wellbeing, even should it take you beneath the city and into the vaults."

“See what you can find in the streets. I’d also recommend talking to the Augurs. Their command of prophecy is quite impressive. When you have dealt with the threat, return to me and we will discuss your findings.” Horus steeples his long fingers as he leans back in his chair and smiles at the Pathfinders. "And of course I will share what I know of the incident. Is there anything in particular you would like to know?"

What do you do?

Korum's grip on his glaive tightens at the sight of the 'servant'. The whiteness of his knuckles is fortunately concealed within his gloves. He forces a smile, "What was the original matter? You had already sent for us, and the recent disturbance happened as we were in route. So, why did Heidmarch send us? I am simply trying to get an idea of how everything relates."

Religion (Take 10): 10 + 4 = 14
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28

He recalls the servant. "What is the nature of the property damage? Vandalism? Destruction of possessions?" Do they consider the undead as slaves, and as such, property?

Yes, it's looking more and more as if Heidmarch sent the poor man here on purpose. Loam nods in sympathy with Korum, and agreement with his question. "If your hands are full enough to entrust us with this, surely it could help to hear about the other issues on your plate."

"Additionally, might we obtain a writ of authority from you? Or would the locals be less receptive with that in play? I'd at least like to be able to enter talks with the Augurs forewarned."

Vulpina happily pours herself a glass of wine, reclining and taking a sip.

She does not make eye contact with the servant.

Actually, she looks unusually stiff.

She takes a long, deep breath, then takes a slow draw from her wine glass.

Doran maintains a stern face as he watches the servant go about doing its duties. He watches warily, then relaxes a bit, thinking it would not do anything untowards.

Yes...was this damage specific to one person or area? Possibly targeted?

Sadaf rolls his eyes.

“That’s going to be boring Danduun. Probably an earthquake or ... a bullette?!“ he says silently to his dinosaur.

“No questions from my side. These guys have everything under control!“

Although he'd never admit it, Makras is offended by the notion that the Augurs' prophecies would be worth listening to when he's around. What could be more certain and important than utter, universal annihilation?

Horus smiles easily. "I've heard multiple stories on the scope of the damage," he answers. "Some of them claim entire buildings have collapsed, while others say it was only a few walls. I'm not asking you make a full appraisal of the extent of the damage. I don't need your expertise for that. Focus your efforts on making sure it doesn't happen again."

"Regarding the timing... Well, the letter from Sheila mentioned how capable and resourceful such experienced agents of the Society are. I knew that something requiring that level of expertise would come up after I sent her my reply." He laughs. "In a city as large as this, something always comes up."

"As for a writ, there is no need." He flaps the hand not holding the wineglass unconcernedly. "Just mention my name - that should clear up any confusion."

You might already know something about Kaer Maga and the people who live here - roll once for each of the following checks and open all inner spoilers your result meets or exceeds the DC for.

"Are there any other questions I might answer for you?" Horus asks politely. "If not, I would prefer to have whatever caused these collapses stopped before another occurs."

What do you do?

Makras shrugs, hocks a loogie in the corner, and heads on out to find some Augurs to argue with.

Diplomacy to Gather Information : 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Sadaf shares what he knows about Kaer Maga.

"Hmmm ... should be easy. We ask questions. Find out what caused the cave in. Then either capture or repair what caused it ... or inform you that it was a natural cause and nothing can be done. OK?!"

Arcana: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Loam isn't very well-read on this particular subject. "Kaer Maga is ancient, even more so than the mages of rune and sin. It's always made me want to come here a bit. Preferably under more peaceful circumstances, but we're all but guaranteed to see something interesting."

"Those varying accounts are strange. You'd think this sort of thing would be easy to verify." Loam muses over the problem. "No more questions from me. We'll find out the most on site. Thank you, let us be off."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Sorry, working at the moment. I would normally do more, but feel free to open the first three spoilers nested under Diplomacy.

K Local: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Vulpina knows what Sadaf knows a little better than he does, but doesn’t know everything Korum knows!

”Agreed, Miss Yin.”

Horus bids the Pathfinders farewell as they leave the shop for the incense-laden air of the Ankar-Te district and decide their next course of action.

Two votes moves the party.

What do you do?

“Off to the site!!“

With a curt nod, "Ageeed."

hey guys...i've been pretty sick last two day....just getting back into the swing of things...will post in a bit...

No worries Doran - as you can see we're not really rushing through this one. Get some rest and we'll see you when you're feeling better.

Sadaf and Korum start to look around for signs of damaged buildings, but quickly find themselves overwhelmed in the strange city. As they stand looking at a street sign trying to get their bearings, a young half-elf woman approaches them. "Pardon me sirs, but you looks a bit lost. Are you perchance visitors? I'd be happy to shows you around town - anywhere you wants, Ol' Cerise knows it!" She smiles happily at the other Pathfinders as they catch up. "And of course all your friends are welcome to comes along as well!"

What do you do?