The Whispering Tyrant has escaped Gallowspire and ravaged the lands of Lastwall. Although the nation managed to evacuate many civilians, there are still refugees, Pathfinders, and irreplaceable cultural treasures trapped in this undead-ridden realm known as the Gravelands. The PCs are part of the Society's efforts to infiltrate these dangerous lands, rescue the Pathfinders missing in action, and recover what historical texts and treasures they can. Just be quick! Every hour behind enemy lines increases the chance a nearby army learns of the PCs' mission.
Founded in the wake of the Shining Crusade that defeated the Whispering Tyrant in 3827 ar, the nation of Lastwall stood vigil against the dread lich’s return and repeated orc invasions alike for nearly 900 years.
Despite the efforts and sacrifices of Lastwall’s soldiers, the Whispering Tyrant broke free only a few months ago, and the lich’s armies and magic devastated Lastwall in revenge for his centuries of imprisonment. Although the Whispering Tyrant suffered a major defeat that brought his invasion of other lands to a halt, Lastwall as a country is no more—all that remains is the shattered terrain known as the Gravelands.
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Each of you receives a summons:
Greetings Pathfinder,
I hope this letter finds you well. The Pathfinder Society has found itself in dire need of agents in the Gravelands region, so I am requesting your help for a mission. My home lodge in Vigil is, shall we say, inaccessible at the present time, so please meet me in Caliphas at my temporary headquarters in the Vodavani Lodge and present this letter to me upon arrival.
Destination: Goldenflame
Thank you for your assistance,
Venture-Captain Evni Zongnoss
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Grimm arrived early at the Vodavani Lodge in Caliphas - sufficiently early that the building had yet to be unlocked.
For the first hour or so of his wait he had busied himself with assisting one of the nearby market traders setting up his stall. With that done, he had struck up a conversation with a pair of street toughs, oblivious to the fact that they had been assessing whether he was suceptable mark. He had parted company with them on good terms; kicking his heels for a further half hour he had resorted to trying unsuccessfully to coax a melody from his tuneless brass vuvuzela.
It was at this point that the now exasperated merchants prevaled upon the servants at the Lodge to open up, to prevent him drowning out their sales pitches and dispersing their customers. By the time the other Pathfinders arrived, Grimm was ensconced at an upstairs balcony, watching the comings and goings in the street and occassionally calling out greetings and jokes to the bemused townfolk beneath. It appears that the recent terrible events in Lastwall are not currently succeeding in depressing Grimm's jovial demeanour.
Behind him in the waiting room his pack leans against a leather armchair, alongside a vicious curved polearm and a massive steel ball and chain. A steaming coffee pot sits neglected on the sideboard.
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The waters of Avalon Bay lapped against the hull of the Albatross anchored just a few hundred yards from the docks of Caliphas. Always an early riser, Elien had watched the rising sun slowly illuminate his homeland, just starting to burn off some of the fog that had gathered overnight along the city's shore and streets.
The trained investigator gave a wistful sigh. It was good to leave the mosquito-infested River Kingdoms behind and return home, but sailing from Illmarsh across Lake Encarthan had carried its own anxiety as every crewman kept casting fearful glances towards the Eye of Dread where they half-expected the Whispering Tyrant himself to manifest and hurl a blast of arcane power to sink their ship. Of course, no such terror had appeared, but it nevertheless continued to feed the superstitions embraced by everyone onboard. And, as everyone in Ustalav knew, superstitions were quite often all too real.
The clunking sound of a rowboat being lowered caught his ears and he glanced over at his traveling companion and fellow Pathfinder, Elanna. He noted the half-elf's veil was in place again, and he gave her an encouraging smile. "The weather's usually overcast enough that you won't need to shade your eyes, my dear..." he announced as he moved to join her in waiting for their ride to the shore. Shouldering his pack and crossbow, he made ready to assist her with climbing into the rowboat. "But Caliphas is nothing if not a moody place. The fog always reinforces that fact, but it's good to see some sun breaking through the clouds. Perhaps it's a metaphor for these troubled times?"
Once they've climbed down and taken a seat within the rowboat among the Albatross crew, he continues their conversation. "I must admit, I was surprised to finally receive a missive from Evni. The Society seemed content to send me off to the ends of Avistan, from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings to the River Kingdoms...but I'm finally home, and apparently receiving a mission directly from my own people among the Vodavani Lodge. Thankfully, you're with a local and I can guide us there easily. So, there'll be no last minute, dramatic entrance in the middle of a Venture-Captain's briefing this time, I promise..."
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Elanna yawns as she sets foot on the bridge of the Albatross. The sound and vibrations of the anchor hitting the bottom of the lake had awoken her after a too short night.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to collate all those Darklands map last night. I know it’s better to do that when everything is still fresh in my mind, but I’m not sure showing up half-awake will impress the Venture-Captain. I’ll better let Elien do all the talking. After all, he is on his home turf.
Stretching up, she ambles towards the railing, drops her pack at her foot and takes out a boar-bristle brush.
"You are the local here, Elien. So I’ll follow your suggestions.", she says, removing her veil and setting out to vigorously brush her rebellious hair.
Alongside the tall investigator, she offers quite the contrast. Three quarters of a foot shorter, nearly half the weight, her dark brown skin and white blond hair to his pale skin and dark hair. She winces slightly as she braids her hair and pulls on the fresh acid burn scars on her right cheek...
She takes his hand to steady herself as she jumps into the rowboat and settles at his side. "Yes, no more theatrically late entrance this time! And I’ll be happy to have a guide to the local customs. I mean, even after training in Absalom, I’m not used to big cities. And I've heard so many things about Caliphas...", she replies as he reminds her of his custom late briefing arrival.
After a moment, she lifts her grey eyes to his dark ones and adds, thoughtfully: "You know, I would have thought you’d be happier to go back home. Or am I just reading you wrong?"
"I sort of noticed you talk a lot about what you learned, back here in Caliphas or in Lepidstadt, but not about your family or any friends you may have had here ? Are we going to meet someone not very happy to see you when we round the next corner ?", she adds as the boat hits the docks and they set foot on a well maintained pier leading the busy East Docks and the Ashtown district beyond it.
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"You know, I would have thought you’d be happier to go back home. Or am I just reading you wrong?...I sort of noticed you talk a lot about what you learned, back here in Caliphas or in Lepidstadt, but not about your family or any friends you may have had here ? Are we going to meet someone not very happy to see you when we round the next corner ?"
"Hah!" Elien smiles, "I suppose many adventurers come from broken families with their own little melodramas or extreme rivalries, but my upbringing arose from no such troubles. My parents owned a very successful business, tailoring the various fashions of the day for commoners, middle class, and nobles alike. It was their hard-earned coin that bought me access to the studied halls of Lepidstadt University. And I felt a great weight of responsibility to ensure it didn't go to waste...unlike a fair number of other rabble-rousers who sought only to wine and entertain themselves while sullying their family's good name."
"No, Elanna. There's no hardship or ill will between me and my family in Ustalav," he continues, "When I left Lepidstadt and came to Caliphas, it was for a very different reason. A girl, if I'm telling the truth. Amelie Debrujette, daughter of a noble family in Caliphas with ties to the Palatinates on her mother's side. We met at the university while her famiy was summering in northern Vieland. We dallied in romance for a brief time, but of course, she's from a much higher social standing than I could ever expect to attain. Hence, our relationship wasn't meant to last, and we both knew that, so we parted on good terms. Last year, her parents betrothed her to a more well-placed lad, a martial sort, and a member of the knighthood. Last I heard, he was called up when Tar-Baphon broke free of Gallowspire. So, it wouldn't surprise me at all if he's involved in the Gravelands now. I hear they're still evacuating people on ships out of Vellumis, and Ustalav has taken in its fair share of Lastwall refugees already. But part of me fears for Amelie. She must be worried sick for her fiance's safety..."
The investigator gives a wan smile. "And that's the source of my pensive thoughts this morning. When I left Caliphas to pledge my service to the Society in Absalom, I was never really sure if I'd be coming back here...or if I'd even have a cause or reason to see her again. Now, the Whispering Tyrant is loose. A Venture-Captain has a mission for us in this part of the world. And here I am wondering if she's okay..."
He soon changes the topic so he can regale Elanna on the various aspects of the capital city as their footsteps take them away from the docks and deeper into the Ashtown district. "Prior to joining the Pathfinders, I did a fair amount of work over there at the Quarterfaux Archives, you know?" He points out the large building in the distance, only marginally visible thru the lifting fog. "I would catalog Osirion artifacts for the museum. And I used to write a treatise or two on Ustalavian heritage. And when the troubles started, I'd read excerpts from my book on the history of Tar-Baphon there in the central market, trying to encourage my countrymen to support those seeking to counter his threat to the region."
His voice trails away as they continue walking and the Vodavani Lodge finally comes into view down the cobblestone street. "There's our destination," he nods, "The market seems a bit subdued this morning. There's usually twice this many vendors out by this hour. Times are certainly a lot different now."
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Ahead, drifting down from a first-floor balcony of the Vodavani Lodge, a jaunty whirling tune is enlivening the street and the market stall beneath. A trio of street urchins are dancing for coins beneath the balcony, and the music appears to lifting the spirits of shoppers and hawkers both.
As Elanna and Elien approach the music reaches a spiralling crescendo, executed more with enthusiasm than skill, and a burly figure in a simple blue tunic lifts a battered-looking fiddle and bow high above his head. He bows, smiling deeply despite any signs of appreciation from his audience, and calls out to the stall holders and their customers below "Thank you! Thank you! That tune was 'Two Pigs in a Boat', a composition of my own making! Please, show your appreciation to my fabulous troupe of dancers there! A few coppers Sir, Madame? For the orphans?"
He flips the fiddle and bow over the railing, only for them to vanish into thin air shortly after leaving his hands, then tosses a handful of coppers down to the jostling urchins. He looks back into the interior of the Lodge, but remains outside with a momentary flash of boredom flitting across his heavy halforc features.
He hesitates, then rolls his sleeves and commences pulling chin-ups using the high windowframe above the balcony door.
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"Oh, my..." Elanna stays speechless for a moment as she listens to Elien's fully detailed answer.
Then she lets out a short crystalline laugh that is swallowed by the rising fog. "There's no way to get a short answer from you. I should have known by now. Well, if we go where this knight servant of your former flame is, we'll give him a hand instead of throwing him under the carriage."
She smiles back at him and ambles along as she listens to his anecdotes on the city.
As they reach the Vodavani Lodge, they are greeted by the fading notes dancing tune. Elanna looks up to the half-orc calling them and casts a quick glance to Elien, checking if he seems to know the performer.
"Thanks for the music!", she calls and fishes a few coppers that she flips at the dancers.
"By the expression on your face, Elien, I'm betting this is not Venture-Captain Zongnoss.", she whispers "Let's get in and find our new companions."
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"You're quite correct, my dear. I have...no idea...who that is..." Elien whispers in return. Then, he politely waves and smiles at the stranger on the lodge balcony before guiding Elanna across the marketplace and up the stairs to main entrance. "I wonder what's keeping Evni? Shouldn't he be here by now?" Opening the door, he calls out to anyone inside. "Hello? Anyone home?"
After a few seconds, the sounds of a sigh and feet slowly shuffling can be heard inside. Whoever is approaching is clearly in no hurry.
A small window on the door opens at about waist height, and two dark eyes peer out.
"Oh. Pathfinders."
The window closes, and the door locks open one by one. A dhampir goblin, dresses in simple scribe's robes, opens the door.
"You're early. Come back on Toilday."
Without waiting for a response, he shuts the door in your faces.
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The mage returned from morning shopping in the market to find a half-orc up on the Lodge balcony doing pull-ups, and a man and a woman standing outside the door of the Lodge looking very surprised as the door was slammed in their faces.
"You'll have to excuse him," the man says with an apologetic smile as he approaches. "He's not much of a morning person, and you are a few days earlier than expected."
The human looks to be in his mid-twenties. Average height for a human male, with the build of someone who probably keeps fit more by hauling large tomes in a library than by weapon practice. His shoulder-length dark brown hair, close-trimmed beard, and bronze-hued skin speak of Taldan ancestry, but his violet eyes are large and expressive -- distinctly Varisian. He wears a fashionable, if somewhat battered, long coat over sturdy explorer's clothes. He carries no weapons, but as he transfers his basket of fruit and bread from one hand to the other, the morning sun catches on a ring set with a gem on the third finger of his left hand.
"I'm Oiyeron Marduzi," he says. His name follows his features, a Taldan given name, Varisian family name. "If there's anything I've learned staying here at the Lodge these past few months, it's how to deal with grumpy door guards. If we're quiet and don't disturb the peace, the Captain will see us when she's ready. Come on in."
He will show everyone into the Lodge and quietly take them to the room attached to the balcony the half-orc has been hanging out on. He puts the basket of breakfast foods on the table. Speaking a word and making an arcane gesture towards the cooling coffee pot, it starts to steam once more as it heats up.
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"Well, we tried to arrive early this time.", replies Elanna to the man greeting them.
"But I sure didn't expect this kind of welcome. But you arrived right on time, master Oiyeron. I was about to suggest to Elien that we go and grab breakfast somewhere else. But if you know how to get in, please lead the way.", she adds with an wide smile and a small wiggle of her pointed ears.
As they enter the room upstairs, she continues: "But the way, I'm Elanna. Elanna Elthiel from High Reach in New Thassilon. I suppose we will be working together oven the next days or weeks, so it's a good thing we have a little time to get to know each other."
She removes her bandolier, drops her pack on the ground and sets her bow and quiver on top of it. Then she sits at the table and waves at Grimm. "Come in, breakfast is ready."
Pulling out a dagger, she picks a loaf of bread and slices it before handing it to her fellow Pathfinders.
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Elien, Elanna and Oiyeron enter the upstairs sitting room to find the halforc brushing plasterwork dust ruefully from his chest and arms. A fine white powder still pepperpots the crown of his head. He wipes his hands off, then extends a hand to the newcomers. As he greets them, he taps a fallen chunk of the now-damaged windowframe out of sight under a wooden sideboard.
"Grimm Bana, late of Elidir, and newly inducted to the Society. It's a pleasure to meet fellow Pathfinders - I've had a long, journey to get here, and whilst I respect their ways, the merchants and farmers which whom I shared the road do not make for the most varied of company, or for the most appreciative of audiences." He grasps a bread roll, and tears a hunk off. To Elien and Elanna, "You two look like each other's shadow image! Are you together?" He munches on the roll, assessing them, a broad smile on his face.
"Good bread, my man" he says to the bearded human with the breakfast tray, "Thank you. I was not expecting anything so welcoming from the Venture Captain's staff, given the reaction I receieved from that cantankerous fellow downstairs. Thrice he refused me entry. Only once I promised to silence an enthusiastic and extended reveille, ", he taps the battered brass trumpet at his side, " did he agree to admit me."
His eye is caught by another loose section of plaster, which he prods out of sight over the edge of the balcony. "Newly inducted to the Society, and within a week of arriving at Elidir, the Venture Captain despatches me to Caliphas for my first mission! "There's no time to loose" they said, "We want you out of here immediately" they said." He beams at the others. "Do you know what were are needed for? With the Whispering Tyrant defeated at Absallom, this mission to the 'Gravelands' should be interesting, right? Something to incorporate into a song, after, perhaps?" His fingers twich in the direction of his trumpet...
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"I'm Oiyeron Marduzi....If there's anything I've learned staying here at the Lodge these past few months, it's how to deal with grumpy door guards. If we're quiet and don't disturb the peace, the Captain will see us when she's ready. Come on in."
"Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Marduzi. Elien Psirec, at your service..." The investigator looks around as they enter the Vodavani Lodge, "I was actually curious to see if Dr. Trice was here, as well," he explains, "Beaurigmand is my Venture-Captain, you see, as I'm a local here in Ustalav. I know the missive we received was from Evni Zongnoss...a refugee from Vigil since Lastwall fell...and Trice has no doubt given her leave to use our headquarters while he ministers to his patients. You know this facility is also an asylum for many who suffer from madness and mental trauma? The doctor has been quite busy dealing with the aftermath of Tar-Baphon's destruction. I'm sure he has many new supplicants seeking his skills...so, perhaps we'll only be seeing Evni after all..." His voice trails away as they ascend the stairs and enter the room attached to the balcony where they saw the half-orc from the street below. Once Oiyeron produces such a hearty repast, he defers to Elanna so she can partake ahead of him. And he remains quiet for a time as Grimm joins them.
"You two look like each other's shadow image! Are you together?"
"We've certainly traveled quite a ways together," Elien responds, "Most recently by way of the River Kingdoms, but we've gone as far north as the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, as well. Elanna here's a scout...and a darn good one. I'm more of a scholar and an investigator of strange occurrences and superstitions...mostly with an eye toward righting wrongs and explaining the unexplainable while safeguarding the innocent against things best left alone."
"Newly inducted to the Society, and within a week of arriving at Elidir, the Venture Captain despatches me to Caliphas for my first mission! "There's no time to loose" they said, "We want you out of here immediately" they said....Do you know what were are needed for? With the Whispering Tyrant defeated at Absallom, this mission to the 'Gravelands' should be interesting, right? Something to incorporate into a song, after, perhaps?"
"Or the Chronicles..." Elien adds, "I'm afraid I've a talent more for the quill than a lute or piano. Thus, I look forward to telling our tale within the written word rather the musical version."
He selects an apple from Oiyeron's basket and draws a slim dagger to carve off a slice. "As for the Gravelands, their new name is well-earned, as the circumstances of their razing is both the gravest outcome imaginable...and I daresay, it's sent a great many stout defenders and watchmen to their grave. Or, perhaps worse, the dead have yet to be put to rest and they still walk those lands carrying out the will of the Whispering Tyrant and his followers."
"In truth, part of the reason I joined the Society was to apply myself to countering the lich and protecting my homeland. So, whatever mission Evni has in mind, I hope it will lend itself to that goal..."
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"I'm not exactly part of the staff here, sort of a guest." Oiyeron explains. "Most accurately, a refugee doing my best to keep myself from being one of Dr. Trice's patients. I help out where I can in return. I woke up early this morning, so I went out to get some fresh food from the market. The Doctor is probably in the other wing of the Lodge building with his charges, it's where he's mostly been since Venture-Captain Zongnoss took over the Lodge mission duties." The mage nods at Elien. "I am familiar with the Venture-Captain's recent history, I came here with her."
Oiyeron brings the steaming coffee pot to the table and pours himself a mug. He selects some food and takes a seat.
"I had known her by reputation, if not quite personally. I grew up in Vigil, dreaming of running away to be a Pathfinder for most of my young life. Endlessly preparing to defend your lands against an evil that had been mostly dormant for hundreds of years didn't sound particularly interesting at the time. Even in recent years, I still occasionally found excuses to visit the Lodge and talk to the fascinating people who came through. But, my duty as a Lastwall defender, and eventually--" His voice catches, and his gaze falls on his silver ring, which he rubs absently with his thumb as he continues. "--other things, kept me from joining up."
The mage takes a gulp of his coffee. He slightly grimaces, but doesn't reach for any sugar or cream to sweeten the drink.
"When your mother is a Knight-Captain of Ozzem and your father is an arcane researcher at the academy, you're expected to carry on in one tradition or the other. My older brother became the Knight, I chose the magic." Oiyeron shrugs as he picks at a few crumbs on his plate. "In the end it didn't really matter, the Whispering Tyrant destroyed it all anyway."
"I have no idea where any of them are, now. Dead, undead, possibly refugees like me? Zongnoss says she has some ideas to help the Lastfolk still trapped in that nightmare land. And, well, everything that was keeping me in Vigil is long gone, so I signed up to be a Pathfinder to help her out."
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"Ah. I am sorry for your loss, Oiyeron. There are similar tales all across the shores of Lake Encarthan. Refugees are pouring in from Lastwall. I prefer to still call it that, rather than the Gravelands, honestly. We patriots here in Ustalav have always honored and respected those who took vigil over Gallowspire. We know the horrors of the Tyrant just as keenly, both from our ancient history and now in the present. So, their sacrifices across so many generations will never be forgotten in these lands."
"You might be unaware, but I myself recently penned a book on the histories of Tar-Baphon across the Ages. It was something I dabbled in researching back before the troubles began and then more earnestly when he escaped. I used to read excerpts from it in the marketplace below this very lodge, urging my countrymen to accept the refugees and take up arms to resist Tar-Baphon, lest we repeat our past. I also feared the Tyrant's gaze would be upon us shortly after Lastwall fell...but then he turned towards Absalom...presumably because of his long history with Aroden who rose the Starstone from the Inner Sea. In Caliphas, we both celebrated and feared that outcome. I can't imagine what that lich would do if he somehow used the Starstone to ascend to godhood like the legends describe."
"All in all, it seems our world is changing," Elien finishes, "That's not to say it hasn't changed before. It surely has across the Ages. But I think perhaps we've entered a new one now. And it's up to us to decide how it too will end."
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"Hmm. Well, even without the Lich Tyrant himself I am certain that the empting of Gallowspires will have unleashed any number of horrors. The undead across the border will seek new targets in time. Anything we can do to slow that moment will be of value."
Grimm turns back to the balcony, and guestures down at the crowds below "Look at those refugees - shock on their faces still. Last time was Lastwall - next time could be Caliphas, Belkzin, or anywhere across the Lake." One green fist pounds the wooded railing. "If Andoran, Taldor or Absallom raise a Crusade for this new age, I'll join up. Or if the Tyrant's armies return to the offensive again, I'll join up. Until then, I'll serve the Society in whatever way they ask."
He spins back to the room, face brightening as he plucks a fruit from the tray. "This is good scoff, Oiyeron." He collapses back into an armchair, eating noisily.
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Elanna stays silent and listens to her companions' discussion. Trying to make sense of the dark tidings and the dire warnings.
I did not know things were so dire here. I never heard of the Tyrant's name before joining the society in Absalom and even there, it did not sound that bad.
Eventually, when there's a lull in the discussion, she speaks up. "I'm sorry for your situation, Oiyeron.", she says "But be assured that if we find news of your family, I'll do my best to help you track them and bring them to safety."
She sighs: "I did not realize things were so difficult down here. Hearing news from afar it definitely not the same as seeing them. I should have paid more attention to what you were saying Elien. But I'm not sure how we will be able to do something on any scale. I, I mean, up to now, I've just ran a race, helped with some pest control and fought a couple of duergars. That's not a lot compared to the issues in the Gravelands."
She thinks some more: "Sure, I know how to scout and move without alerting anyone in caverns or ruins. I've also learned to heal a little. But apart from that, I know nothing about undeads or anything else we could encounter there if we go try to rescue people. Do any one of you know how to fight these things?"
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"I'm sorry for your situation, Oiyeron.", she says "But be assured that if we find news of your family, I'll do my best to help you track them and bring them to safety."
"Thank you." Oiyeron says with a nod to the woman. "To be honest, my father was an accomplished enough wizard that he could have taken himself and my mother out of the city at any time, given some time to prepare the spell. The fact that I've not seen them here in Caliphas tells me they are either dead or purposely staying in Lastwall to lead some sort of resistance effort. My brother," the man gives a short, humorless laugh. "He probably died making some overly-valiant last stand."
Oiyeron takes a deep breath and looks down at his ring again as he lets it out. "It's my wife I'm worried about the most. She was a scout, too. Long-range, assigned to guide patrols of knights. She was in the middle of a patrol when everything went to the Abyss. I'm not even sure where they were headed."
"I know nothing about undeads or anything else we could encounter there if we go try to rescue people. Do any one of you know how to fight these things?"
"I know a fair amount." The wizard offers, looking at Elanna. "I've spent most of my life learning about and researching the undead and related magical artefacts. How best to protect against them, mostly. I've been on more than a few patrols myself, using my magic to defend against undead attacks. I will do my best to share all I know--" Oiyeron's gaze flicks towards Elien briefly, and one corner of his mouth quirks into a half smile as he adds quietly: "--When it is needed."
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"...Do any one of you know how to fight these things?"
"I know a fair amount....I've spent most of my life learning about and researching the undead and related magical artefacts. How best to protect against them, mostly. I've been on more than a few patrols myself, using my magic to defend against undead attacks. I will do my best to share all I know--when it is needed."
"I have a few books I can reference on the subject," Elien adds to the conversation, "...mostly from the research I undertook for my publication. While a lot of it is simply historical data pertaining to the rise of Tar-Baphon and the myths of his conflicts with Aroden and the Shining Crusade, it sometimes included descriptions of his undead legions and the atrocities they committed in the lich's service. I'll be sure to review what I have and see if I can jot down some excerpts that could prove useful for us."
GM:
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"Interesting - do go on." Grimm thumbs his chin, listening to the discussion between the others. "Clubs for the bony ones, blades for the fleshy ones. A stout heart. And a priest might be handy too...
As Grimm turns introspective, a small lute appears under his arm, and he begins to strum in thoughtfully. At the next pause in the conversation, he turns to Oiyeron, "Oiyeron, you have spent time here in the Lodge. Do you know how many agents are expected here to aid the Venture Captain? Does he have more than one such task at hand? I expect that the refugee issues outside " he waves one hand at the hubbub audible through the open window, "provide a multitude of oportunities for the Society to assist. Are we his only resources here to do so?" Grimm looks at the others, appraisingly.
A harried gnome clad in a blue turban and matching robe decorated with golden crescent moons and butterflies scurries through the crowd to the Vodavani Lodge, delegating tasks to surrounding Pathfinders. When she spots the newcomers, she issues a warm smile. “Ah, thank you for coming. Gather around over here, please.”
Evni motions over to a nearby table upon which rests a parchment map stuck with miniature flag partly obscuring the label “Lastwall.” “Apologies for the out-of-date cartography, but it’s the best we can do at this time. The re-emergence of Tar-Baphon dealt a devastating blow to the Society, so we’ve been scrambling to consolidate resources. The Society is focusing on missions into the Gravelands for two reasons: to track down the whereabouts of Pathfinder agents who went missing when the undead hordes struck, and to recover the fragments of history and culture that yet survive. I believe you all should have received a letter from me containing your assigned destination."
Evni points to a flag in the southeast portion of Lastwall. “Goldenflame was an idyllic place surrounding a college sponsored and supported by the church of Iomedae. Fortunately, most of the town was able to evacuate swiftly, but we know that some residents stayed behind out of a sense of civic duty to defend their home against evil."
“Goldenflame College is known for its documentation of the history of both southeastern Lastwall and the activities of the church of Iomedae in the region, as well as its collection of invaluable local curiosities accrued over time. Those relics and stories—if they can be recovered, then Lastwall can live on.”
Evni excuses herself and shortly returns with a bundle of paper.
“These dossiers contain information on all known Pathfinder agents in the region surrounding Goldenflame. Although we must hold out hope, I cannot truthfully say I am optimistic. Nevertheless, closure is important, and we can properly mourn for their loss and celebrate their lives if we know their fates. Perhaps these documents could be of some use to you in this quest. I’ve also completed and signed travel documentation stating your reasons for being in the Gravelands. Present this document to the border crossing, and you can then be on your way.”
Evni walks over to a nearby bench to a relatively massive pack, where she begins sorting through its contents. She pulls out a bundle of sacks. “Here. These are for you to transport any items or—” she bows her head “[/b]—remains you might find. I know it is a sad and gruesome task, but retrieving those fallen Pathfinders would bring closure to their loved ones.[/b]”
Evni then closes the pack and shoulders it. “I’m also heading into the Gravelands myself. May Desna guide us all on our journeys. Hopefully we can find what we seek."
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The door bangs open as a green-scaled kobold bursts into the room.
"Me here! Nubie the Ter'fy'ng!" he proclaims looking rather pleased with himself. He takes a look around the room and his eyes land on Grimm. The young swashbuckler scrambles to dig through his pockets before taking out a letter and holding it out to the half-orc.
"Me give to V'ture Capt'n Evni!" he declares as he smiles and pants happily, his tongue rolling out like an eager puppy. "You like me! You also green dragon!"
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As the kobold interrupts the Captain speech, Elanna sighs and taps him lightly on the shoulder.
"Her mister Terrifying, the captain is over there. Yes, the one in blue. That's the one who sent you the letter. And you will accompany the rest of us for our mission. I'm Elanna by the way."
Then she turns her thoughts back to the Captain's briefing.
Another mission where we get half the information we need beforehand and are supposed to figure out everything on the fly. I'm starting to think this is normal procedure.
Elanna raises a hand, asking for the Venture-Captain attention.
"Elanna Elthiel, here. Sorry to bother you but I want to be sure of what we are supposed to do in Goldenflame. If i understand correctly, you want us to recover documentation and collections from the Goldenflame College ? And then gather information about the whereabout of fellow Pathfinders or more likely find their remains or get proof of their death?"
"Then I'm afraid I've got quite a few questions. Because the first part of the mission seem relatively easy while the second amounts more to finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.
She counts on her fingers :
First do you know what type of undead did overtake the town and the college? That could help us prepare ourselves. And if you know, what are the best tactics against those specific ones?"
"Second, do you know of any stronghold or secure hiding where people could have retreated in Goldenflame? Or maybe somewhere the Pathfinders usually met or left messages for each other. This could be a good place to start with."
"Third, do we have physical descriptions or even portraits of these agents? Or even descriptions of unique items, rigs that they could carry. Because identifying them if they've been killed a few months ago is not going to be easy."
She counts a fourth finger then thinks some more and finishes. "I think I'll stop here... The rest is not very important."
"If i understand correctly, you want us to recover documentation and collections from the Goldenflame College ? And then gather information about the whereabout of fellow Pathfinders or more likely find their remains or get proof of their death?"
"Correct. Religious texts and historical records will hopefully have been overlooked by the troops of Tar-Baphon. You might also find items of cultural or religious significance: things that Goldenflame could
be remembered by."First do you know what type of undead did overtake the town and the college? That could help us prepare ourselves. And if you know, what are the best tactics against those specific ones?"
"The most likely undead will be zombies and skeletons. They are easily raised by necromancers, and make up the bulk of the front line armies."
"Second, do you know of any stronghold or secure hiding where people could have retreated in Goldenflame? Or maybe somewhere the Pathfinders usually met or left messages for each other. This could be a good place to start with."
"There was no pre-arranged meeting place that we're aware of. The whole region was caught by surprise - nobody thought they would need hiding places or message drops. But Goldenflame’s chapel functioned as a religious institution and the town hall, so historical records concerning its citizens and events would have been stored there."
"Third, do we have physical descriptions or even portraits of these agents? Or even descriptions of unique items, rigs that they could carry. Because identifying them if they've been killed a few months ago is not going to be easy."
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"Goldenflame...goldenflame? Hmmm...let's see if I can recall anything pertinent about that area of Lastwall..."
Elien muses for a bit while Evni answers Elanna's questions, his eyes occasionally glancing over at the kobold newcomer still trying to get the poor gnome's attention. '' he thinks to himself, ''
Finally, he looks up at the Venture-Captain and adds a few queries of his own. "The Gravelands are still a bit of a warzone, yes? Occupied by undead servants and foul followers of the Whispering Way, no doubt? Given that we'll be crossing at the relative security of the border, how will we be traveling overland to Goldenflame? By horse or on foot? I'd imagine it could be slow going if we're expected to walk into the region...and, even though it might draw more attention to us, I can only imagine a few mounts would go a long way to speeding our journey there and back."
"Secondly, provided we find the remains of any Pathfinders or various relics or histories worth reclaiming and preserving, how will we be expected to transport them out of Lastwall and still avoid the Tyrant's forces? I mean, depending on how much we find, it could slow our pace considerably, making us an easy mark...and we might have to drop such prizes in order to make a run for the relative safety of the border again."
"Thirdly, since it doesn't appear we have a priest accompanying us, are there any other resources we can take with us to combat the undead? Holy water, perhaps? Is that something anyone here could provide to improve our odds?"
"Fourthly, has anyone recently emerged from the area around Goldenflame that we could consult with and get a better sense of the lay of the land? Obstacles to steer clear of? Areas of continuing violence? Observed troop movements? And that sort of thing?"
"Lastly, are there any other allies inside Lastwall we could call upon or seek out for assistance or protection during our mission? And, if so, I assume the papers you've provided will serve as our bonafides, yes? Or, is there any other way we should identify ourselves to secure their cooperation?"
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Oiyeron searches his memory for details. "I know of Goldenflame, and that there is, or, was a college there. My own studies have been more thaumaturgical, and less historical or theological, however, so I didn't have much interaction with the students or faculty at Goldenflame College."
Oiyeron accepts the letters of introduction from Evni and lays them on the table for whoever wants to be in charge of them. He almost reverently takes the bundle of sacks from Evni and packs them into his backpack. As he does so, he takes a look at them with an eye trained to recognize magic (Arcane Sense) to see if they are just normal sacks or if they perhaps have some sort of enchantment on them to preserve their contents.
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Nubie's eyes land on Grimm. The young swashbuckler scrambles to dig through his pockets before taking out a letter and holding it out to the half-orc. "Me give to V'ture Capt'n Evni!" he declares as he smiles and pants happily, his tongue rolling out like an eager puppy. "You like me! You also green dragon!"
Grimm's eyes widen in surprise at the small draconic creature. He looks left and right but sees as the others take its appearance in their stride. "Mini dragons? Whatever next?" He gingerly reaches out and pets Nubie on the head. "A green dragon, huh? Please to meet you, Mister The Terrifying!
Sober music swells as the Venture Capital sets out the scale of the task that lies ahead of the newly formed group, and the morbid fate that may have befalled their fellow Society members in Goldenflame. Then Grimm realises that this might be distracting, and dispels the lute he was using. He listens intently to the questions put by the scout and the crossbow-weilding investigator, and the responses given.
Grimm will make a Society check at +3, and a Lore: Warefare check at +3 too, to recall any useful tactics he might have picked up from the Lastwall refugees about the armies of the undead
"Sounds like a cart might be useful if we are to carry off records, artifacts and ... remains. Conspicious and slow though. How about a pack mule ? Slow - but maybe with fear behind it, it could outpace the slower walking dead? He rubs his chin in thought.
"... has anyone recently emerged from the area around Goldenflame that we could consult with and get a better sense of the lay of the land? Obstacles to steer clear of? Areas of continuing violence? Observed troop movements? And that sort of thing?"
"Some of the regugees in the city could be from Goldenflame - it's not so far away. I could seek out some who might help us." Grimm will attempt a 'Gather Information' Diplomacy check on the city's streets after the briefing . (Diplom +5)
As Evni shoulders his pack, "Thank you Venture Captain - may Desna keep you save on the road ahead."
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"how will we be traveling overland to Goldenflame? By horse or on foot? ... provided we find the remains of any Pathfinders or various relics or histories worth reclaiming and preserving, how will we be expected to transport them out of Lastwall and still avoid the Tyrant's forces?"
"Sounds like a cart might be useful if we are to carry off records, artifacts and ... remains. Conspicious and slow though. How about a pack mule ? Slow - but maybe with fear behind it, it could outpace the slower walking dead?
“Unfortunately, the Society is stretched thin at this point in time. Goldenflame is not far from here, though, so a round trip should be possible in a single day. Due to a combination of high demand and already low supply in Caliphas, it's unlikely you'll be able to rent a mount or cart. But you might find one left over in Goldenflame."
"Thirdly, since it doesn't appear we have a priest accompanying us, are there any other resources we can take with us to combat the undead? Holy water, perhaps? Is that something anyone here could provide to improve our odds?"
"Holy water is ... in high demand. Did any of you bring some from Absalom?"
"Fourthly, has anyone recently emerged from the area around Goldenflame that we could consult with and get a better sense of the lay of the land?
"Unfortunately, with the roving bands of undead, any information that we have would be out of date by the time it got here. But the college is a 10-minute walk from the town."
"Lastly, are there any other allies inside Lastwall we could call upon or seek out for assistance or protection during our mission? And, if so, I assume the papers you've provided will serve as our bonafides, yes? Or, is there any other way we should identify ourselves to secure their cooperation?"
"If anyone has a wayfinder, that's a universal symbol of the Pathfinder Society."
Grimm will attempt a 'Gather Information' Diplomacy check on the city's streets after the briefing
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Nubie turns around at the tap and proceeds to hand his letter to the gnome in a somewhat subdued manner.
"We go to Lastwall? Last...wall? Where Lastwall? Where Firstwall?" Nubie wonders out loud as he tilts his head a little after listening to the covnersation. Having just joined the society after leaving the caves of the Hookclaw clan Nubie is still largely not very familiar with the different places aboveground though he tries to remember bits of conversation regarding the place.
"Nubie never been there before. Nubie explore new place! New people hear about Nubie the Terrifying!" the kobold's face lights up at the thought though it quickly dims as the swashbuckler remembers a few conversations he overheard while undergoing his Pathfinder training.
"Goldenflame so close but dead not come here? This place strong." he nods to himself. "We fight crunchies. Nubie need basher."
Nubie decides to buy a light mace and a potion of holy water before the group leaves.
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The Pathfinders depart Caliphas early in the day, passing through a heavily fortified Ustalavic border crossing staffed by Knights of Lastwall, one of whom examines the documentation and then waves them through with a standard disclaimer about entering the Gravelands at one's own risk.
Goldenflame is a few hours’ travel southwest of Caliphas by foot in the direction indicated on Evni’s map.
Obstacle #1:
A large, steep rise blocks the most direct path through the area, and the road diverts around it. If the Pathfinders could climb the rise, they could save some time.
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"Elanna, my dear?" Elien speaks up, "I believe you're the best of us when it comes to scouting experience. Do you think you can find us a way up and over that rise rather than having to follow the road around it? Might save a bunch of time in searching for these remains and relics if we can get to Goldenflame quicker. And, with any luck, we might avoid the Tyrant's undead altogether and be back in Caliphas before anyone knows we were there..."
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Elanna perks up and surveys the rise "Let me have a quick look, Elien. This does not look too hard."
She starts up the slope, checking for good foot and handholds where the slope is most steep. At some point, she takes out her short sword and uses it as a machete to clear a path through some brambles. Finally, she reaches the top and waves the rest of the party up.
Elanna scrambles to the top of the hill, marking out the path by neatly slicing branches with her short sword.
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Using his fauchard as support and occasionally turning to offer a helping hand for Oiyeron, Grimm joins the others in labouring his way up the rise.
Slipping heavily at one point and thoroughly coating his right leg with mud neither helps his mood nor speeds his climb.
Approaching the top of the hill he crawls the last 10 meters or so, to avoid silloutting himself on the ridge. Cautious of the presence of the undead, he scans the surrounding countryside, watching for unfriendly eyes...
Obstacle #1:
A large, steep rise blocks the most direct path through the area, and the road diverts around it. If the Pathfinders could climb the rise, they could save some time.
Elanna: Successfully charted a path (+2 to everyone's Athletics), Succeeded in climbing
Elien
Grimm: Failure
Kei
Nubie: Failure
Oiyeron: Failure
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Kei clumsily runs towards the group while waving his hands; he stops a couple times to pick up items that fell from his hastily-made backpack.
The young tian-min lad was full of bruises and scrapes, and the scholarly spectacles that usually stood proudly in the middle of his face were hanging halfway through. It was a mystery to him and probably to anyone else with experience under their belts how he was even picked to make it into the dreaded Gravelands.
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Elien watched with some trepidation as Elanna made the climb, but knew better than to doubt the scout's expertise. He only hoped she could map out a route that would work well for everyone else, too...and that included him. Unfortunately, it appeared the rest of their party was no better at scaling such a hill as he'd be. And before he even had a chance to begin his own climb, he heard the voice of Kei hurrying up behind him. The investigator's hands strayed towards his weapons belt just in case he needed to defend himself, but the young Tian seemed harmless enough.
"Hello there," he greets the newcomer. Once Kei introduces himself and explains his presence, Elien nods sagely. "I've been a late arriver a time or two for a mission, as well. But no worries. We're glad to have you. The more the merrier on this trip. After all, the Gravelands...formerly Lastwall...are such a grim place." He points up at the rise where the others are still struggling their way. "We intended to make this a shortcut to speed our arrival into Goldenflame...though, if I'm being honest, it looks like this effort may just wind up slowing us down. You're welcome to give it go if you wish...and I'll follow behind in case you need assistance."
He then watches Kei start his climb before beginning one of his own.
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Elanna waits patiently, crouched at the top of the rise as her teammates climb the small rise.
All that time, she keeps her eyes and ears open, trying to read the terrain ahead of them and detect any potential threat.
When the team is assembled, she whispers: "Okay, people. From now on, we're into hostile territory. So no loud noises or calls. Let's take a two minute rest and we start again."
She nods towards the newcomer and winks: "Welcome to the team. I'm Elanna. I see you've shattered the record for late arrival. One or two hours more and you'd have had to find your way to Goldenflame on your own."
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Elanna does some stretches, eats a meal, and takes a power nap at the top of the hill while everyone else struggles to get to the top. Twenty minutes have elapsed before the group is ready to move on.
Obstacle #2
A massive patrol of undead troops is approaching but seems not to have noticed the Pathfinders yet; the group is too large to engage in combat, and the group will have to sneak around.
Setup (Deception): unattempted
Clearing the Obstacle (Stealth):
Elanna
Elien
Grimm
Kei
Nubie
Oiyeron
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Crouching low, Elanna points at the troop ahead of the Pathfinders : "Has anyone a good idea on how to distract them while we pass by them? I'm pretty sure some of us can sneak past them but I'm not sure all of us can without sending them on a wild goose chase. I can try if you want, but that's not what I'm best at."
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Kei is still catching his breath; he speaks, his voice trembling born from exhaustion, fear, and the anxiety of having new companions.
If I may... I could try and summon a creature to use as decoy. I can recall at least a couple helpful plants from my land of origin. That, if you're okay with my suggestion.
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"Maybe I could create a makeshift flaming bolt for my crossbow and fire it off this hillside in a different direction from us? With any luck...it might catch a bit of dry grass on fire and a bit of smoke to draw eyes away from us while we scramble down the other side..."
Elien proceeds to draw upon some of his alchemical ingredients, a bit of twine and a flammable fuse so he can light one of his crossbow bolts on fire. He then lines up a shot towards a particularly distant area, counting on the height of the hillside to give him the maximum possible range.
Once the bolt is away, he encourages everyone to keep their heads down until he can determine if any smoke has begun from the impact area. Assuming it draws the interest of the oncoming patrol, he then guides everyone down the other side of hill with instructions to keep low and use whatever cover they can find along the way to avoid being seen.
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Clack, clack, clack. The sound of bare bones clatters on the hard earthen track as the undead troop marches past. Rank after rank of skeletal forms tramp past in a clatter of tarsals, metatarsals, phalanges, cuneiforms, talus, navicular, and cuboid bones.
From a wooded copse Grimm watches avidly. It is his first slight of the walking dead, and far from sending a chill through him he is exhilarated - by the danger, and by the unnaturalness of the sight.
At one point one of the figures clatters to the ground, an already damaged or age-brittle hip joint collapsing mid march. The rest of the troop march on, and over, regardless. After they pass, the shattered cadaver twitches and drags forward following in their wake.
"Amazing..." breathes Grimm. "How long will they stay animate, after their necromancer has left the area?" he asks Elien.
Distractedly, and with the marching warband in mind, Grimm unthinkingly casts Summon Instrument to generate a drum, and starts beating a soft march in time with their steps...
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"It depends on the strength of the necromancer and how much power they invested into the undead. Anywhere from minutes, to days, to forever." Oiyeron answers from beside Grimm. He turns at the sound of a drumbeat and sees the conjured instrument in Grimm's hands. Oiyeron sticks his hand out to block the tapping and whispers urgently."You need to control your magic, friend, before it gets us killed."
Bards, the wizard thinks to himself in exasperation. Absolutely no discipline. Oiyeron turns back to following Elien down the hill.
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Kei bites his lower lip as he looks at Eilen's distraction.
"Well, I guess that's actually a much better idea"
He follows the lead of his more experienced team mates and tries to lay low, afraid any error he makes could spell danger for the party.
The sound of Grimm's drums set an alarm inside Kei; for a minute, he thinks the Undead army has spotted them. He audibly gasps, attempts to run, and falls to the ground.