GM Tyranius (PF2) Quest #1 The Sandstone Secret (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

Dot in here

Doot.

Dot.

Having spent a few days in the Sandswept Hall in Osirion you receive a small sealed missive from Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir who wishes to meet with you all in the lush gardens outside the Sandswept Hall.

Please go ahead and introduce yourselves at this time. There is a small handout in the maps concerning the Pathfinder Society and you will each begin with 1 Hero Point.

A burly dwarven woman in full plate arrives in the garden. She starts to walk across the lawn and crushes a couple of flowers. "Oops. Pardon me."

She then stays on the path and joins the group. The front of her plate bears a holy symbol that some of you might recognize as Gozrah.

She waves. "Hiya fellow Pathfinders!"

A female of Ulfen stock follow behind. Her heavy armor glistening in the sunlight. A faint smell of blood is coming from her, but none can be seen. She carries a hand-and-a-half sword strapped to her back.

Her red hair is braided and falls past her shoulders. "Ello." and waves back to Marra.

"Are you wit tha society as well. I am Rovina Sverdsdottir. A warrior from the Lands of the Linnorm kings."

A male iruxi, dressed in a homespun robe clearly designed for a female of a different ancestry, introduces himself. "Hello, my name's Thrass. I am..."

His eyes go wide at the sight of Marra's holy symbol, and his tail starts swishing in panic.

"Please, if you meet any more squirrels, tell them I've been good, okay? I don't want to fight any more of you, I've switched to a fish-only diet, see?"

From within the robes, Thrass produces a freshly-caught fish and chomps the head off.

By the way, Marra, it's spelled Gozreh. >_>

Fixed. Thanks!

"Hi Rovina. Squirrels? I bet there is a story there. By all means stay good though."

A three-foot kobold with golden scales stares at Thrass in awe.

"Hmm. Thrass, your name sounds familiar. Ah yes, my fellow Lodgemates described a valiant Iruxi dressed in robes who appears to be afraid of furry rodents. Worry not, I am Mik-Mek! I am a dragon descendant named from a member of the Soothscale tribe! I shall protect you from... from... whatever it is you fear."

He looks to the other Pathfinders gathered around, staring at him curiously.

"Where are my manners?! Well met to you as well. I am Mik-Mek. Sorry, I was told of an Iruxi monk by my good friend and colleague Kaitlyn. When I saw Thrass, I assumed it was him, since he still wears robes similar to Kat's!"

Thrass and my monk just completed Q06.

"Kat? Yes, we've adventured before, she's a good friend. Here, have a fish." Thrass produces another fish from his robe and hands it to Mik-Mek.

Thrass shivers. "I've gained a new appreciation for nature after transporting some Gozren relics. In my tribe I was taught to keep my mind as calm as a pond, but I've seen the fury of the ocean, and I didn't like it."

You are next introduced to a pale skinned human dressed in fashionable clothing over which he wears a chain shirt. He doesn't appear to be much of a warrior, having only a polished dagger at his side that doesn't appear to have seen much use.

"My name is Aleksandr Ostenoff, renowned thespian and entertainer of Caliphas... or rather, I was. But I have had to put aside that career for now."

Aleksandr concentrates, motioning as if beckoning someone forth. There is a rush of air as a feminine form surrounded in ectoplasm bursts forth. When she opens her mouth the sound is a mournful wail. The tone is sharp, grating, but there is a melodic undercurrent to it all.

"This is Imelia. My dearest Imelia. Though you may not hear it now, her voice was a divine gift. I can still hear that sweet voice under all that anguish. But jealous men tried to take her from me. They tried to curse her, to destroy me, but I would not, could not let go. I gave everything I had to find someone to take her curse away. In the end, the best I could do was to take it upon myself. But still her body could not take the stress and she died. But though she died she could not cross over. The curse of unlife that I bear in part has bonded us almost as strongly as our love had in life. Now we both stand upon the border between life and death. But out of money, and with no one in Ustalav able to help me and those who hounded us still on our heels, I travelled to Absalom with her. I sought join the Pathfinder Society, to partake of the knowledge it has collected to contribute to it that one day I may find a cure for her... for us."

Mik-Mek accepts the fish and, imitating Thrass, bites the head off and chews, enjoying the texture.

Marra's jaw drops.

"Have you considered talking to a priest? Or possibly a bard. Turn that drama into a song."

Marra suddenly remembers something and heads back to the flowers she crushed to try and put them back to how they were.

kn Nature: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

"I assure you that the priests here tried a few days ago. Unfortunately it had no effect." Venture- Captain Norden Balentiir says grimly as he comes into view.

The shaded gardens outside the Sandswept Hall provide a welcome respite from the sweltering midday sun. Venture- Captain Norden Balentiir reaches up to one of the date palms overhead, pulling down a bunch of ripe fruit to share with the table. “They’re good for much more than shade, my friends. But I did not call you here to enjoy my garden. A few months ago, I finally received confirmation that we would be able to execute one of the last excavation permits issued by the Osiriani government. The site is a desert location where the dunes have shifted, revealing the beginnings of a staircase leading down beneath the sands."

“The Osiriani government is protective of its cultural history, and with recent changes in their stance on allowing foreign archaeologists to work inside their borders, I wasn’t sure this permit would even stand. The bureaucracy was rather slow this time around, but it turns out we were approved before they stopped issuing permits. I’ve already secured your provisions, including camels, tents, food, water, tools to perform the excavation, and a map to the site. As you know, it may take many weeks to clear the site of debris. The desert can be unforgiving, so don’t hesitate to return here to rest as needed."

“The government has already sent guards to oversee the site and protect against any potential thieves. Remember—keeping up a good reputation in Osirion is vital to the Pathfinder Society’s continued presence here. Don’t antagonize the guards.”

Marra enjoys the fruit.

"Of course we wont annoy the guards. Can you tell us more about this site?"

"Osiriani hmm? I heard rumors that they have studied the connections between life and death since antiquity. Were there any markings on the exterior that denoted a purpose for the ruins?"

"The entire structure is buried but perhaps what you seek will be inside." Norden Balentiir says hopefully. "“The shifting winds revealed only the top portion of the staircase. What lies beyond it remains a mystery.”

“Drink plenty of water. Travel near dawn and dusk to take shelter from the midday sun, and bundle up at night. Also, the desert heat can play tricks on your eyes. Stick to the map, use your common sense, and you’ll be fine.”

Thrass takes an experimental chomp out of a date, then not-so-subtly tries to dispose of the remains by "accidentally" dropping it on the ground.

"Ah, I happen to be an expert in exploring ruins. My last job also involved going into ruins and smashing everything that moved," Thrass says proudly.

"Do we just need to dig, or are we also supposed to figure out its significance? Because honestly, I mostly slept through History class in Pathfinder training."

It's clear Thrass don't do the smarts good.

Rhizzuk stands tall, their Hellknight plate a matte black does not even shine in the desert sun.

Rhizzuk listens carefully to the instructions and nods "The wheels of Osirian law turn, even if slowly. We will uphold the honor of the Society in our dealings with them."

Your journey to the archaeological site is relatively uneventful. With the supplies provided by the Venture-Captain, you have plenty of resources to handle the desert’s most basic threats. Traveling during the hottest part of the day is exceedingly uncomfortable.

As you arrive at the ruin, you find that the ruin’s entrance has already been excavated. The staircase leads down to a torchlit chamber. A canvas fence secured around staircase keeps most of the sand away from the opening. Nearby, a trio of guards rest beneath the tarp with four camels tied to a post beyond it.

As you approach one of the guards sits up fro. a nap and she covers her eyes from the sun with her hand. "More Pathfinders? Glad you could finally come now that the hard work is all done."

"What do you mean more Pathfinders? And who has been digging around here already?"

Not manifesting Imelia until we get inside.

Rhizzuk stares them down as a Hellknight is want to do, waiting for the answer to Ostenoff's question.

"What my colleague meant to say is that we were the first agents sent to examine the ruin. No one else should have been digging at all"

assuming we would have a copy of the permit

Rovina fishes out the permit and hands it to the guard. "Here is our paperwork"

"I assure you everything is in order. Can you tell us perhaps when this other agent arrived?

diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

The guard stares back at the hellknight and quickly becomes unnerved. She grabs ahold of the permit and looks it over. "Yea, this expedition began over a month ago. Last week a group of Pathfinders came in to begin cataloging the ruin's history. They all left except for one. The lead Pathfinder is still down there." She flips the permit around and seems content with it, handing it back to Rovina.

Mik-mek scratches his head. "What other Pathfinders? I was led to believe that we are the first group. Who is this lead Pathfinder?"

Marra tends to the animals and continues sweating as others ask the important questions.

"Let's not bother the guard too much. We should just introduce ourselves to the other agent" Rovina takes the permit and places it back in her overcoat.

"Shall we see what the other agent's have uncovered?" She says waving her hand to the entrance.

Thrass shrugs, unconcerned at the fact that other Pathfinders have apparently gotten here first. "Saves us time digging, I suppose."

Mik-Mek nods. "It is fitting, since I, born of dragons, should not be digging."

The guard hands the permit back and shrugs. "Dunno. Paperwork said his name was Durvin Kline. It all matched."

You decide to go and introduce yourselves descending deep underground. A 10-foot-wide staircase leads from the surface into this ruin. Sandy dust covers the floors of the underground complex and the entire structure is Dimly lit. Several of the pillars in this once-grand entryway have collapsed. The statues around its edges depict scarab beetles.

To the north Marra notices a trap. A wall socket loaded with a spear connects to a floor tile just in the entryway. Marked on the map.

Society: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Aleksandr calls Imelia from the ether.

Society: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Society: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

"The scarab is common here. It's usually seen in tombs and places associated with death."

Rhizzuk will provide light from his wayfinder.

Pointing at the trap Rhizzuk notes "I hear those things can be quite deadly, maybe we should just go around if we don't get a response."

Thrass squints at the dim light, sighs, and lights up a torch. "Yeah, no sense in triggering that. Door to the west, or passageway to the east?"

Thrass thinks for a moment and stands still. "Should we call out to find Durvin Kline? Maybe he can come to us."

Marra also activates her Wayfinder.

"No way to disable the trap? Well, Let's try west for now. But first, Has he been in here recently?"

Marra looks near the entrances for recent prints.

Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Marra looks closely at the dust on the floor. It looks like footprints have been all over the place, which makes it difficult to tell if Durvin Kline passed through this way or not. After a few more moments it looks like the most recent set of tracks lead east.

"Let's try East first. Want me to lead?"

Mara pulls out her weapon and shield.

Heading east you come across a long hallway that branches off into several sets of doors.

Pulling a dart out from his bandolier, Mik-Mek quietly follows, sticking to the shadows.

Rovina looks confused as her comrades pulls weapons. "Resorting to weaponry already? We haven't even spoken to this Durvin yet.
" She shrugs, "At most we have him only saying they are a Pathfinder Agent. Maybe they are, maybe they are not. Not necessarily a crime to say something you are not. Especially not one punishable by death."

Rovina falls in next to Marra. Or behind, depending on the size of the cooridor.

"Without finding this Durvin and speaking to him first, how do we know the way forward is secured?"

"The guard out front hasn't had anything to report on potential dangers. If there were, they would have been dealt with during the dig." Rovina holds her hands up, showing surrender, "Not saying it is not a good idea to be prepared. How would you feel if random people showed up in the middle of your research with weapons drawn? Add to the fact that the guard posted out front. Did the new arrivals slay him and now on to me?"

She then crosses her arms, "I am not saying all fights are bad and can be avoided. But would rather not be seen as instant aggressors unless the situation dictates."

"Maybe this Durvin is legitimate and the Society, or Osirion Government, received two permits. Would not be the first time paperwork was messed up"

"I would rather be prepared for trouble. If people holding weapons causes this Durvin to be nervous then his time as a Pathfinder may be short. I suspect they are not a Pathfinder at all but a thief."

Instead of holding up her shield Marra walks ahead looking for traps.

"Do we want to check every room or stick to the hallways for now?"

"Not all agents are warriors. Some are more academic and value the research. Other's look to secure bonds of alliance with words. Not all of us are comfortable around weapons."

"Everyone plays a part. If we choose to boast our weapons and use them to intimidate our way through every meeting of suspicious individuals...well. It would not be the society would it."

"Not demeaning you warrior code. Just trying to see it from their side. We have the numbers and the element of surprise on our hand. I'm sure, that would be enough to make him nervous"

Marra looks confused but remembers the bit about Cooperate.

"Fair enough. But I still feel being prepared for danger is worth a few hurt feelings."

Marra puts away her sword and waits by the first door for a group decision.

Mik-Mek looks confused.

"We do not know if the first group even cleared out the dangers of this tomb. Maybe it's overkilling, but I would rather be ready than have to spend time arming myself if we run into unfriendlies."

Thrass looks on as the conversation unfolds, also confused. "The guard up above said they were here for a long time, right? Wouldn't they have cleared all the dangers by now?"

"If they were not Pathfinders then maybe they have added dangers for us to face."

"If only no danger lied in wait and exposed itself at the first opportunity. Perhaps danger was not ready to make its appearance on the grand stage. It was not the right moment, the right act even?"

"I don't have much use for weapons. Would you like me to take the lead?"

"If they were not Pathfinders then maybe they have added dangers for us to face."

Thrass makes a hissing noise that you eventually figure out might be a chuckle. "Oh no, they're going to team up with the long-dead? I'm quaking in my proverbial boots."

"Aleksandr, please feel free to take the lead. If you're confident you can defuse the situation, I'd be happy to let you go up front."