Doot in here for fun.
The adventure begins at the top of an observation tower within Skyreach at the Grand Lodge in the city of Absalom. The PCs have responded to a summons from the Decemvirate themselves. As they wait, they have a few minutes to socialize over the impressive view of the city, just before sunset.
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Pip takes a moment to admire the view from Skyreach. The faint tint of rose in the sky washes all the buildings below in a gentle pinkish glow. She sighs with satisfaction. "You know, I've never been up here before? I'm always either in the library, or running 'The Law and You' classes for new Pathfinders in one of the subbasement classrooms. It's nice to be up so high."
Pip is a sturdy gnome, with more than the usual touch of fey about her. Vines snake through her green hair, and peek out through her clothing. She turns to the others, floating her business card to each of her teammates with a bit of prestidigitation. "Hello, I'm Pip from the Envoy's Alliance Legal Defense Fund!" She grins. "I was born and raised in the Westgate of Absalom, but my grandma's from Bhopan. I've been on missions with some of you," she nods to Salliss, "and I think some of you may have taken my law classes for new Pathfinders. I'll be your legal representation on this mission, and over all mission support throughout."
She gestures with a brown hand towards the others. "Your turn! Who are you, and where are you from?"
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A half-elf in a cloak balances on the ledge, enjoying the view. He turns and nods at Pip’s statement.
“Salliss, I’m from Erages. Scout in training to become a demon slayer.”
That explains the cold iron rapier at his side. Most if not all of his equipment appears to be of elven construction. If not for the eyes, he could easily be mistaken for an elf.
"Woof!"
Don't forget me!
Bailiff, Pip's well-behaved riding dog, barks expectantly and sniffs in Salliss's bag.
Did you remember any treats for me?
Bailiff wags his tail.
"Woof!"
Bailiff catches the jerky in mid-air. I'm such a good dog!
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Herondal is a thin gnome wearing the fantasy equivalent of a 3 piece suit.
He also wears a mask with a slight smile on it. As he sees Pip the face changes to a bigger smile and a wink. He takes the proffered card gladly.
"One can never have enough lawyers. Thank you. I'm Herondal. An entertainer of minor fame. I helped write the play 'The Sewer King'."
He then lets Bailiff sniff his hand and pet him.
Pip can sense that Herondal is also Fey. Though he seems rather restrained for one.
"I don't believe I have adventured with many of you before."
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Sitting somewhat aloofly to the side is a Halfling clad in dark, rugged, hide armor, the material of a strange blue-grey-skinned animal, that has since been darkened by a Shadow rune. It has shown many years of hard use, ranging from gouges made by conventional weapons, to obvious burns and acid splashes. Even one burn that is shaped rather like the end of a large pseudopod. A single, gleaming, sphere of constantly flowing water is somehow pinned to the chest-piece.
More striking, however, is the large Glaive, with a blade head almost as large as he is, that lays across his lap. The cold-iron of it shimmering with an ethereal glimmer. He is carefully and methodically inspecting it for any sign of dullness, and sharpening every dull-point he finds.
He looks up momentarily after Pip, Salliss, and Herondal introduce themselves. "Bardyth... The Giant..." He'll grunt out, before returning to his inspection. He will then notice the floating business card, and takes and uses it to test the sharpness of the blade. By the time he is done, the card is reduced to a pile of paper-shavings which he dutifully slips into a pouch labled "kindling" in Jotun.
Suddenly, like being struck, he shakes his head as a thought comes to mind, and he decides to practice those charm-courses he's been taking since joining the Society. Looking up and offering what might be a smile, if one had never smiled before in their life, and saying "It's a treasur- erm, pleasure to meet you..."
Satisfied that he has done his part to be friendly. He lays the glaive carefully by his side, and pulls out his bow, inspecting it to make sure it, too, is in working order, while softly singing a Jotun nursery rhyme...
A cursory glance shows that he carries little else. A pair of goggles, some really nice boots, a single aeonstone, a wayfinder, a backpack that looks 3/4ths empty, and a bandolier stocked with several potions, but of only two varieties. One, the obvious healing potions, and another strange one that glows green.
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Up the stairs walk a furry creature, 3 ft tall well built. At first sight, you can recognize it as a grey wolf, well built and with massive jaws but still a grey wolf. It stops seeing Bailiff and eyes him without moving like he was deciding what to do.
His brown eyes only focused on the dog.
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"Wolfie? Wolfie were are you?" yells in high-pitched voice a creature that comes from behind.
A short goblin of dark-green skin looks around, his eyes never really making eye contact but simply sweeping through the place. "Oh, hello. Are you astronomers? or... " his sight stops on Bardyth
"... pathfinders? Anyways I got a message to come here, My name is Hopper."
He looks at you, observing the items with more interest than the owners. He carries a bandolier which is filled with odd bottles, only half of his head is covered with hair, while the other side is covered with tattoos of horrible quality and completely are lacking any symmetry.
His armor and clothes just like Bardyth armor carry plenty of burn marks and oddly colored stains, but you wonder how much of them were done by someone other than Hopper.
"Wolfie, now please behave, there are other furballs here, I know it may sting your ego, but other canines are also here. "
At the same time, Hopper signing to his mount using sign language; 'Stay calm'
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A stocky dwarf in chainmail with various weapons handing from his belt walks in the room and takes a look around. His long brown beard has started to grey, making it almost look speckled with salt. His four weapons range in ages, starting with the new and relatively shiny trident, followed with his older but well maintained warhammer. Next is his dwarven waraxe with designs popular 300 ish years ago, but maintained beautifully. Finally is his dagger, that has had its pommel and cross guard nearly worn smooth from use, but the weapon is polished to a glimmering finish.
He nods at everyone in the room, before answering Pip in a a heavy seafaring accent with choppy short sentences. "Ionic Saltbeard. From Osirion. Former pirate, current Pathfinder. Hopin' to get a position on de Pixie. Good at cuttin' dings. Not greatest at words. A pleasure."
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If I can swap the purchase, modify my above with the following. If not, I'll buy it before we leave town.
Satisfied that he has done his part to be friendly. He lays the glaive carefully by his side, and pulls out a strange, gnarly spear, wrapped in greasy hide, and its head resembles a thick, clawed finger. Bardyth starts inspecting it to make sure it, too, is in working order, while softly singing a Jotun nursery rhyme.
Another dog! Another dog! Hello friend!
Bailiff wags his tail and circles the room happily, hoping that the other dog will chase him and play.
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The sudden loud barking has Bardyth jumping to a combat-ready stance instantly, his glaive in his hands in a fluid motion, ready for whatever may be going on... After a few tense moments of his muscles bulging and his eyes scanning the room for any threat, he realizes it's just the riding dog trying to play, and he'll relax again. Resuming his resting place, but once more double-checking his equipment is all in place.
The door to the tower opens with a clunk, and eight cloaked figures stride into the room without ceremony. Each one wears a unique, intricately designed mask that seems alive with powerful magic. The turn to the room’s center in unison as a ninth individual—Eliza Petulengro, the only unmasked member of the mysterious Decemvirate—enters and closes the door behind her. She quickly turns to address the gathering.
“Pathfinders, we have an emergency on our hands. Sapphire, a member of our leadership, has been possessed by an ancient and wholly evil spirit. Between this spirit’s fiendish magic and Sapphire’s subsumed knowledge and guile, we are struggling to get out ahead of whatever destruction this foul entity is concocting. What we do know is that the spirit is that of a cyclops demoniac who intended to summon the demon lord of storms, Urxehl, into our world.”
Another member of the Decemvirate wearing a mask fitted with stag-like antlers speaks. “The summoning requires a rare ritual. We do not know how to counteract such unusual spellcraft, but we have an ally who does. Dolok Darkfur, the manifested god of the Farheaven Clan from old Sarkoris, should be able to assist us. Through Dolok and the god caller Nelket, the Farheavens connect to traditions of calling, binding, and communicating with extraplanar forces.”
Eliza Petulengro pauses for a moment and then speaks again. “You are among our most experienced Pathfinder agents following our Society’s recent losses. We need you to convince Dolok Darkfur and Godcaller Nelket of the Farheaven Clan to help us rescue Sapphire and put a stop to this spirit’s machinations. We can teleport you near to the Farheaven settlement, where I’m confident you’ll be warmly received. The Society has come to the Farheaven’s aid several times in the past few years, so you should be able to convince them to return the favor. This mission is time-sensitive, and the integrity of the Decemvirate, if not the safety of the world, depends on your success. Are you ready?”
Pip recalls the following about Urxehl.
One of the masked figures answers, Yes, the Monoliths you interacted with during the previous missions are connected and taking care of them possibly limited the power of influence from Urxehl."
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As the Decemvirate step in Herondal respectfully removes his mask.
"Heady stuff. First Qaxl and now this. Let me grab a bit of aid real quick then I will be ready."
Glancing around Herondal offers a genuine smile. "Let's not forget the dog treats." He then leaves and is putting on his mask as he walks out the door.
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Bardyth will look at the members of the Decemvirate oddly coldly. "Am I allowed to tell my compatriots who Sapphire is? I do not like lieing to them."
Once the information about Urxehl is shared, Bardyth remembers it too. He immediately darkens in temperament, and clenches his fists in barely contained rage.
Muttering quietly to himself in common, the following words easily able to be made out. "Trolls... Giant-kin... eviscerate... annihilate all of them..."
It doesn't take much for people to figure out he has quite the axe, or rather Glaive, to grind against anything of the Giant sub-type. He seems all consumed by thoughts of destroying such, but manages to think clearly long enough to notice the other information about fire, and remembers all the fires he's dealt with in that region any time Urxehl comes up. "Going to go spend my last bit of cash on a ring of fire resistance... You all might want one..." he'll mutter before resuming his fuming about giants and trolls.
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“Can you tell us anything more about Dolok Darkfur? What is a god caller?”
“Other than cultists and demons, do you know of any other allies this cyclopeon spirit may have recruited?”
Looking to the rest of the group, he asks “Have any of you learned the Cyclops language?”
That seems to be all the questions he has.
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Hopper looks surprised at Bardyth and says to him "Maybe I will make you some juice to calm your nerves? What do you think?"
"Ring of fire resistance? To rich for my blood" throws coldly.
He listens to others talking about Sapphire's identity, and he does not know what this is about. "Oh yeah, I was there. One of you told us" he looks around at the masked figures.
"I can know Cyclops language, yeah. No problem"
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"I'm also fluent in Cyclopean. And a bunch of other languages. It's a gnome thing. It really helps when I need to pursue legal matters in jurisdictions outside Absalom!"
“Can you tell us anything more about Dolok Darkfur? What is a god caller?”
“Other than cultists and demons, do you know of any other allies this cyclopeon spirit may have recruited?”
Looking to the rest of the group, he asks “Have any of you learned the Cyclops language?”
That seems to be all the questions he has.
Eliza answers, "Dolok Darkfur is the Deity of the Farheaven Clan. Once an unfettered eidolon who was driven mad by a disease that ravished Sarkoris. Pathfinder Agents assisted in restoring the area and clearing the mind of Dolok.
Godcallers are religious leaders of the clans in Sarkoris. They are the ones that summon and bind the Deities to their clans. Nelket, who some of you may know as well, is the Godcaller for the Farheaven Clan, and the one that is bound to Dolok Darkfur.
We have been working closely with the Farheaven Clan since and must rely on them once more it seems. Hopefully they remember our help"
Eliza pauses for a moment, "We know that elementals from the plane of Fire have been working against from the previous missions there. Other than that, we have no clue."
A little while later, once the PC's return with their purchases, they are lead to a different channel. Ritual markings cover the floor and braziers are lit on the perimeter. A small carving of a bear with feathers sits in the center of the circle.
One of the masked members sweeps is arm in front of him, "When you are ready, we will send you off."
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The setting sun casts a blood-red light over the Farheaven camp. A wall of dark, smoky clouds fills the western skyline, hovering over an entire forest of burnt trees. Farheaven warriors rush to sharpen spears and string bows, gathering at a network of west-facing earthworks resembling a battlefield more than a settlement. Amid the commotion, a human woman approaches. “Pathfinders, your timing is impeccable as always. I know our people owe you so much already, but could you lend us your aid once more?”
The woman is Nelket, the spiritual leader for the Farheaven Clan, who some of the PCs may already know from past adventures. She explains that the Farheaven’s god Dolok Darkfur and several Sarkorian druids have begun a ritual to help restore the land scorched by the demons of the Worldwound, and that the ritual triggered a backlash from the dormant evil in the forest. The tribe is hastily preparing to repel a siege while Dolok completes the ritual, which should begin the forest’s healing and start to cleanse the fiends’ corruption.
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Bardyth either didn't hear Hopper's offer for a calming drink, or ignores him. In fact, he rarely seems to leave his seething muttering about killing all giant-kin, for the duration of item purchases and the ritual... From the way the shopkeepers act unsurprised by this, and patiently pick out what he is trying to buy between words of kill and death. Pip, who went to the same store, can gather this is far from the first such ranting Bardyth has done.
He does, respectfully, lower the volume of his mutterings to the point they are barely audible when the group is approached by Nelket, and his mood seems to improve slightly when she asks for aid repelling a siege. "Battle? Where?".
His hands almost twitching with excitement at the idea of getting to fight something, and his mutterings being a little less full of death and destruction... But still focused on removal of all giant-kin.
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After being excused, Salliss heads to the quartermaster. While there he picks up two lesser healing potions for the mission.
Based on the discussion with the others, he also buys several consumable items: Oil of Potency, Silversheen, and scrolls of Darkvision, Waterbreathing, Water Walking and two of Resist Energy. This is a longer list than he had originally prepared, but they all seemed useful.
Satisfied, he then heads to the meeting area. He examines the ritual area with interest.
After getting teleported, Salliss is quick to scan the area around him. Realizing there is no immediate danger, he then looks towards Nelket.
With a smirk, he tells her “That is a much better greeting than others give us. Some confuse people that move to solve problems with those that cause problems.”
With a slight bow, he says “I’m Salliss, and would be glad to help you and your tribe.”
"Glad the Society's stance on helping others have never faltered." She smiles warmly, “We’re about to come under attack! Dolok’s ritual to heal the forest has provoked a horde of demons and their allies that had lain dormant within the forest. We need to protect the ritual casters and the vulnerable until the spell is complete at sunrise.”
"We need you to help repel the attack" She then reaches into her satchel and pulls out several multihued feathers. "Use these to assist you." She hands each of you one feather. " these feathers are straight from Dolok Darkfur’s own plumage, and they can be used to help secure the camp’s perimeter. When planted into the ground and buried up to a certain color, they create Dolok tree with leaves of the same color."
Nelket directs the PCs to the camp’s western front, charging them with holding the line from the oncoming fiendish forces.
A churning current of primal water, conjured by Dolok Darkfur’s ongoing ritual, rushes along a crooked trench at the edge of the Farheaven encampment. Sapling trees and fragile underbrush bloom gradually but visibly within the borders of the mystical river, breaking the blasted earth with spots of green and the faint creak of growing stems and trunks. In stark contrast, the older trees beyond the river stretch their splintered, ashen branches like flayed fingers toward a soot-choked sky. Any plants rejuvenated by their proximity to the water continuously burst into flame like embers newly doused with oil.
"Here is where you must make a stand." Nelket points to the two trails heading East, in the area you are currently staging, leading to the Farheaven Camp. "Do not let any evil beasts through this area. If they do our camp will be overran." She then inspects the well. "And if they make it in here, they have a direct line to the center of the encampment. Best not let them get to our heart."
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Ionic mostly just nods and agrees to things being said during the briefing, not adding too much to the conversation as the most recent revelations he'd just heard about were already well known among the group. He does follow Bardyth to go grab a ring of energy resistance for fire, just in case. These forests burn and burn deadly.
A new ring of gold with a fire opal joins the previous gold ring with a square cut ruby on his left hand and making the iron band on his right seem a bit lonely. He also picks up healing potions from the general supplies.
He accepts the feather with a curious look and then nods at Nelket's words about what to do. "Sounds like a fight. Dis'll be fun."
Herondal is able to get a decent look at the first wave of attackers. He sees a pair of small demon looking things with Heads and legs of a goat. They carry flaming swords.
They are accompanied by a trio of red serpent like figures. They carry polearms and seem to burst into flames.
Saliss, Herondal and Ionic recognize that these are Brimorak Demons, also known as Arson Demons, these creatures are immune to fire and weak to cold iron and good.
Pip chimes in and let's the party know that they have the capability to breath flames and if you cut them, boiling blood will rush out of the wound and cover you.
Ionic, Pip and Salliss recalls these as Salamanders, medium fire elementals. Knowing that they are immune to bleed, fire, paralyzed, poison, sleep. They are also weak to cold.
Hopper goes into more specifics and advise that they can coat themselves in an armor of flames and they have really quick combat reflexes.
Barydeth is unable to discern their movements though.
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“Given what we know of them, I doubt any salamanders will try to sneak across the river. Unless forced to, they will all want to take the bridge across.”
“Although the Brimorak Demons are immune to fire, it doesn’t sound like water would pose a threat to them. We will need to watch for signs of the demons attempting to swim across.”
“Who wants to watch the northern bend, make sure nothing sneaks across the river?”