Plz dot and delete
The Blakros Museum rises into the night sky, its single black spire severing the full moon in twain. The black iron gates surrounding the exhibition hall grind in protest against the wind. Beyond, the museum’s large oaken doors stand wide open, a silver-gray mist belching forth from the cavernous darkness within. You wonder how you ended up here, standing at the precipice of unknown terrors, and instantly VentureCaptain Adril Hestram’s wide looming face is conjured into your minds’ eye. His booming words ring out from memory as clearly as he spoke them only one hour ago: “The Blakros Museum is cursed. Some darkness has descended upon the place and those who enter are blasted with evil and left raving through its halls, more beast than men. The curator, Nigel Aldain, is an old associate of the Society, though he chose to leave our organization some years back after a disagreement.”
Adril looked sheepish then, as if remembering some distasteful incident from his youth. “Nigel has long denied the Society access to the Blakros Museum’s considerable collection of relics and scrolls, using his extensive contacts to nab several excellent finds right out from under us... he always had a nose for the hunt. Whatever is past between Nigel and the Society, he needs our help now. Perhaps if we can come to his aid, he may think on rejoining the Pathfinder Society, or at least offering to share his discoveries with us.”
“Apparently the trouble at Blakros Museum began this morning, shortly after a wayward Pathfinder named Lugizar Trantos returned to Absalom after months spent in the Mwangi Expanse. Supposedly, instead of coming straight to the Lodge to report in, he went to Blakros, sold his finds to Nigel, and then disappeared with a hefty sum of gold. The few who glimpsed Lugizar claimed he was much changed by his time in the Mwangi... gaunt, his eyes yellowed and unfocused, a strange rasping cough that seemed to wrack his now wasted frame. Whatever he brought back with him, we believe it is the cause of the Blakros Museum’s ills. Root it out.”
Adril Hestram gives you a map of the museum (see Slide 7) and suggests you head to the offices first to find Nigel as he may have some insight into whatever foul curse vexes the place.
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Trudging down the street, Danibas stops briefly in front of the museum in indecision.
An observer would see a big man, dark skinned and dressed in well worn dun brown robes, curved sword on his hip and a battered pack across his pack. His face, furrowed in indecision was a strange combination, a particularly well versed traveller would guess a combination of Vudran and something else, perhaps somewhere in the land of the Linnorm King's. Either way, his visiage is best described as brutish and not particularly attractive.
As he debates whether to head straight to the office or poke around on his own, the young man refelcts on what brought him to this point. Abandoned on the steps of a monestery in Jalmeray he was raised to constantly seek physical and mental perfection. Unfortunately the second tennant was fated to elude him, having a hot temper and a penchant for drink and frivolity. Tired of his poor attitude and unnecessary conflict, his home eventually asked him to leave, seconding him to the Pathfinders in hopes that he would temper his rough edges during his world travels.
Master told me I was welcome back, should I manage to find serenity on my travels. And until this I am not welcome.
Harsh, but fair, Danibas had been chafing at the stern ascetism of his home temple anyway, and the chance for adventure and travel filled him with excitent.
Finally deciding to head to the office, the monk looks around...
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The massive Shoanti walks easily at the side of the monk. His tattos, shaved head, and tribal markings mark him easily as one of the tribesmen from the Storval Plateau. An earthbreaker hammer rests across his shoulders, and he is trying his best not to stare as they walk down the streets of the city. A painted horse follows him obediently at his shoulder, also bearing the markings of the plains horses.
Greetings, I am Kalak Sunrunner; may you find water and shade this day. This place is wondrous, but what of the totems which once occupied it? I am uncertain of trusting too much in what has been done here, it sounds as if someone has offended the spirits. The barbarian offers as explanation. If no one suggests any other course of action, he'll also head for the office.
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A raven-haired woman of slight build walks between the two strong warriors. Her skin is tanned suggesting, perhaps, that she spends a lot of time outside. Traveling, perhaps. Her hair hangs to her waist. A holy symbol of Shelyn hangs from her neck poking out just below the pale yellow scarf she wears. She wears a shirt made of some sort of animal hide. It laces up the sides showing a thin strip of her skin on each side. Her forearms are covered in bracers made of the same type of hide. She wears a long skirt, but is is cinched up in front of each of her legs with leather straps. She wears tall leather boots leaving only a small bit of her skin showing before her legs disappear into the shorts she wears under her skirt. In addition to securing the cinching straps for her skirt, her belt has two pouches, one hanging on either hip. Just behind the pouch on the left hip, a rope hangs. She carries no weapon, but has a strip of decorated cloth hanging from his left wrist. On that cloth is the glyph of the open road: the symbol of the Pathfinders.
She lightly reaches up and touches Danibus and Kalak on the shoulders saying, "Don't worry, my loves. I'll keep you safe," and gives them each a gentle smile. When they'd met this slight gal at the lodge, she'd introduced herself as Primwell Merimohr, but indicated she also answers to Prim.
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A tall man strides alongside the group, a wide brimmed hat pulled low over his face and a long non-descript cloak covering any sign of armor. He is not an imposing figure at first glance, looking slighter than the monk and barbarian in the group, but the large falchion on his back gives you pause. Upon further inspection one would see the slight green tinge of his skin, and all thoughts of where this man came from flee your mind as you realize he is of orcish blood. Only half orc... But that combined with his fierce gaze leave you feeling a slight dread. This is dispelled only slightly as the man grins a wide grim smile, his orc tusks protruding out just a bit more "Well met friends, the names Drogath Varyn. Glad to be along for the journey" As the last word falls from his mouth, the grin fades and the stoic gaze ahead returns. He runs his hand over his chest, touching the holy symbol of calistria that hangs there from a leather strap as the group continues on into the museum.
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Danibas glances down at Primwell's words, over at the Shoanti barbarian and back at the half orc and starts to say something sarcastic, but then recalls his master's slight build and aging frame wiping the floor with much bigger opponents daily, and thinks better of it.
Instead he nods and smiles at the woman.
At the other introductions, he simply dips his head as way of greeting and says, "I go by Danibas."
Looking back to the museum he asks, "Do we head straight to the office?"
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Leo could barely contain his excitement when he heard they would be going to the museum. As part of the Dark Archives, he was always trying to collect items. Who knows what they might find. And, Nigel might give him something as a token of appreciation for helping. The elf's mind was racing about the possibilities during the walk to the museum. At the sight of the grey mist pouring from the museum doors, his mind snaps back to the task at hand.
"That's a bit concerning," he says with a nervous laugh. As this was his first mission, he knew he had to make a good impression on the members of his group. "I agree we should go see Nigel in the office. He may have some information about what we are looking for amd where it might be."
You can do some knowledge tests if you want some additional information
worships a demon lord named
Angazhan, who is described in the
Book of the Damned as a thing of
primordial darkness, a foul-breathed
demon who grunts prophecies of
blood to apes and madmen. The
jungle is his beating heart.
was founded hundreds of years past
by cultists who bowed to Angazhan.
It is said they captured the souls of
monkeys in the wood-grains of strange idols called Tik
Taan. The monkeys’ tormented spirits became the slaves
and playthings of Angazhan, who murdered their playful
whims and replaced them with a deep-seated hate and
wild madness. These Tik Taan are rumored to shred the
sanity of anyone who spends too long in their presence.
by a brave tribe of the Mwangi called the Jambala Jaeg.
The Jambala Jaeg created ritual knives, crafted out of
bone handles and obsidian blades, to slay the demons
inside the Tik Taan. Legends speak of the deadly mists
of the Tik Taan, ill humors that invade men’s hearts by
seeping into their mouths. Anyone wearing a scarf or
other protection against the airborne menace is immune
to its effects.
paws. He described dark eyes glaring out from the mists. Shortly after his return to Absalom, many of the monkeys and apes in the city’s enageries attacked their keepers and fled into greater Absalom.
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They said they thought his skull had been collected. He no longer wrote to his child, or his wife. For that he maybe has shame, or is not right in the head? Lugizar may be changed from whom any of you know. the Shoanti shares what he'd heard earlier in the day while playing the big, silent brute in a local tavern haunted by pathfinders.
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"My silly love," Primwell says, softly laying her hand on Danibas' back, "not all problems need to be solved with your fists. You might find there's a time when you need to use," and she lightly taps him on the forehead as she says, "this."
She then looks around at the group and says, "I suppose I shall have my hands full protecting you all, my loves, but so be it."
She then walks up and slips her arm through Drogath's as if he's escorting her and asks, "Shall we go in and see Nigel then?" and starts moving in that direction fully expecting the group to come with her.
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Kalak listens to what everyone has to say before chiming in, A curse from the spirits of a far-off land. It seems I am in the right place. Let us see this Nigel and what he has to say. We should be careful though - it is said that the curses of spirits are challenging at best.
He finishes, and follows Primwell to look for Nigel, shadowing behind the Varisian.
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Danibas grunts at the tap to his forehead before growling, "Yes, my master kept telling me something like that."
Still, the young monk refuses to allow the more even headed members of the group tamp down his excitement.
"Bah, anything can be defeated if I punch it hard enough! But, I suppose with curses and magic... I'll be happy to have you here to help." he finishes with a nod to Prim and Drogath.
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Kalak smiles at Danibas, Oh I do not disagree, I think even if you punch the magic hard enough, or.. hefting the massive hammer off his shoulder he smiles again. It is said among the shaman of my people that there are ways to make the spirits who do not want to listen, listen. I think I shall enjoy your company Danibas, we'll do just fine here.
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"Agreed. There's no sense standing here at the edge of night when there's a mystery to solve," confirms the bronze toned man, beaming a bright smile through the misty air, his hair wildly playing about like an ethereal flame.
Fyl's frenetic energy is just as palpable as the heat that radiates from the lithe ifrit; even standing he remains in motion, rocking back and forth on his feet, a gentle swaying motion that sends light ripples across his linen vest and voluminous pantaloons.
"Unless you fear a monkey curse, that is," he adds playfully before starting he head inside.
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"Oh, this will be quite some fun indeed my friends... Now according to the map we were given, the offices are through the atrium and to the left. past the halls of the dead exhibit. Let us go see these honorable dead on the way to visit our friend Nigel." Drogath chuckles quietly to himself as he follows danibas and Kalak through the door
[i]"An unnatural cold permeates this chamber and the tendrils of silver-gray mist flowing out the front archway into the courtyard beyond seem to effortlessly pierce the flesh and gently caress the bone in a cold embrace. The grand entranceway’s vaulted ceiling is supported by six great pillars of hewn black stone. Braziers mounted on the pillars cast white radiance from balls of continual light. The light glimmers eerily in the silvery haze that fills the atrium, giving the impression of something alien watching from the glowing fog."[/b]
You enter the first room and you only observe a light purple mist that runs through the rooms and you perceive that something magical must have originated it, you notice that something is trying to enter your mind but you are sufficiently sound to resist its effects.
In this room you do not see anything interesting except a corridor with doors at its doors but they seem closed.
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Feeling this strange power pulling at his mind as he crosses the threshold into the museum, Drogath pauses for a moment looking to see if there is a change in his companions. Seeing everyone carrying on as usual he grins "Well, whatever this curse is that has set upon the museum has failed its first trick against us it appears... I agree with Primwell, best we are all cautious moving forward."