Please dot and delete. We will begin when the convention starts.
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Waiting for these meetings to start was always the worst part of the job. There were simply too many unknowns. Who was assigned to the team? Do they understand the Pathfinder mission? What do they bring to the table? were they a jerk? And all of that was before they even found out anything about the mission itself.
In addition to the many unanswered questions, there was the long boredom that came with sitting around. While arriving early, or first, allowed for claiming the best chair or optimal seating location, it also meant enduring the accompanying lack of action. I coulda slept in.
Setting his helm down with a clunk, the pale, scarred half-orc poured himself some wine from the carafe sitting in the center of the sideboard. He then picked at the charcuterie board, seeking his favorite cheese. Some venture captains made the effort to put out a nice spread. For Korun, the sent a clear message about how the VC thought of the agent about to be sent into the field. Ah ha! Smoked gouda. "Come to papa!" Scooping up a handful of crackers, the paladin sat back down in what he determined to be to most comfortable seat.
He washed the first bite down with a sip of the wine. Not the best, but better 'n any field ration, that's for sure. He looked about the unremarkable room, wondering when the next person would arrive. As long as it might seem, the meeting would start sooner or later. It wasn't like he was going to be sitting here for weeks on end just waiting.
Things would get started soon enough. Then we can get outta here and into the field. The half-orc wasn't certain why that has always been so important to him. Surely Shelyn didn't seek beauty in some of the locations the paladin had been sent over the years. Gotta be the blood. This was often the conclusion Korum was left with when he felt his natural ferocity was at odds with his soul strengthening faith. Whenever he questioned or doubted himself, his blood bore the brunt of the negative while the venerated Shelyn was given for the positive. Not that the paladin thought about it in quite this way. He accepted his failings and weaknesses because he knew Shelyn had somehow seen beauty within him. That was more than enough for Korum. It gave him strength to know that a goddess found anything about him remarkable in the least.
He wiped away the crumbs that had gathered on his breastplate before drumming his fingers on the table. And now the waiting begins...
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A rough looking older white bearded Skald man with strange eyes walks in. He's dressed in a chain shirt with an axe at his waist and a shield on his pack. A Malamute drools a tiny bit and follows him in. Hearing the half orc paladin speak he turns and addresses him in Common. "I'm und Tormond Trollbiter from Kalsgard. I hear the Society needs warriors." He bends down and scratches the blue eyed dogs head.
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The sound begins dying down...but as it does so, one of the candles floating about the room wanders straight up to Tormond's face, and begins burning...black???
Also, a small, very, very crude-looking duck that appears to be made out of wax or ceramic (you can't tell, you've never seen anything quite like it) suddenly appears on Korum's shoulder.
required warning text:
Welcome to the Ruins of Bonekeep. This is the first of a series of special events designed to test your character to its limits and beyond. The threat of character death is very real in this event, but the potential rewards are greater as a result. You will be able to, as a table, decide to leave the event at any time should it become too deadly for you, except when engaged in combat. If this is not the type of event for you, now is the time to back out.
In person, there would be a strict limit on how long we could play this scenario. In PbP, we have a limit on the encounters to try to match the experience.
Before we proceed, I need each of you to acknowledge you have read the warning above.
We cannot start until the last player agrees to the warning. I'll wait one more day, and then recruit a replacement if needed. I sent a PM early this morning. Sorry for the delay, team.
The crumbling columns made from jagged pieces of bonewhite stone rise out of the hillside like broken teeth. Most believe that this ruined edifice is all that remains of the ruins of Bonekeep, a siege castle just twelve miles from the walls of Absalom, but the intrepid agents of the Pathfinder Society know better.
Two days ago, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin sent word from the Grand Lodge of a private meeting of he and his best agents. The missive explained little, other than strongly suggesting all recipients come urgently and to speak to no one of their errand. As Valsin entered his office, cramped as it was with eager Pathfinders, he unfurled a map of the area around Absalom and laid it out on his desk, marking the location of all of the ruined siege castles around the metropolis. Built by would-be conquerors and petty tyrants, these ruined castles are a testament to the strength of Absalom, a reminder to the next invader of the fate of those that lay siege to the City at the Center of the World.
"This is the ruin of Bonekeep," Valsin began, pointing at a newly marked spot on the map. "All too recently we learned of Tancred Desimire’s plan to use these ruins as a base for his nefarious plans. Fortunately, those plans have been ruined, but the greater question remains. Why would he select Bonekeep? The place is a total ruin, with little left standing aside from a few crumbling walls, or at least, that is what we thought. One week ago, I sent a pair of scouts, Wenton and Theodana, to investigate the ruins. Only poor Theodana returned. She says that they found a hidden staircase in the bottom of the ruins, the door to which looked like it had been opened only recently. Venturing into the darkness, they found some sort of vault deep beneath the ground, left untouched since the keep’s destruction over two centuries ago. That is unfortunately where things went terribly wrong. In just the first chamber, they sprung some sort of trap that took Wenton’s off head. Theodana fled before anything else could happen, returning to me to tell her tale."
Pausing to look over the assembled Pathfinders, the venture-captain continues. "This is where you come in. The Decemvirate is very concerned about this matter. Siege castles are dangerous places and this one is no different. Built by a necromancer named Volzaras, there could be some terrible things lurking down there, things waiting to get loose. We want you to go to the ruins of Bonekeep, have a look around to determine what sort of threat it poses, and to report back. Anything you find is yours to keep, as long as we get a look at it first. Good luck!"
That was two days ago. It took nearly an hour of scrambling through the ruins to find the staircase leading down into the silent grave. The dungeon waits.
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A diminutive, very scrawny halfling with very plain looks enters the lodge, sits, and nods patiently at every word uttered by VC Valsin. When the man pulls out the map, his beady little eyes go wide in recognition. From this point and until the end of the meeting, there is a constant smile about him that's a little disconcerting.
He approaches everyone at the table, extending his right hand.
"Me name's Riltar. Pleased to join ye. This is goin' to be fun. Questions? yes, I have plenty, but the main one at this point: how much treasure do ye think we'll nab down there? since they fled after the first room took the head of poor Wenton, this means that whatever hoard is down there remains... unspoiled!"
Riltar's face goes stone cold for half a second, and then the smiling resumes.
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Sarina was beautiful once but someone or several someones got ahold of her at some point in the past and changed that.
"I'm Sarina and this is Fluffy. This sounds dangerous, I hope we are ready."
Fluffy is a small black panther wearing a silver ring around it's wrist and what looks like a metal pan on it's back.
The Venture Captain gave each of you a potion of cure moderate wounds before you left.
The crumbling stairs lead to a large square chamber, in the center of which stand four stone columns, carved to look like beautiful maidens. Their beauty is marred, however, by the fact that their faces are carved to resemble grinning skulls. Between them, resting in the middle of a rust-colored stain, is a rotting head, the body of which is nowhere to be seen.
Two passages lead out of the room, one on each of the eastern and western walls. The east is blocked by an iron portcullis.
[ooc]please make sure you are all on the map. We are not in initiative, but please only take one round's actions right now.
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"I'm pretty sure we just found poor Wenton's head... I'm not sure what to fear most: the trap that took it off his shoulders, or those grinning skulls. Be extra careful folks... before anyone moves near the remnants of Wenton, tell me! I will cast a spell or two to prepare for whatever's coming for us... *sigh* I hope there's a lot of gold at the end of that rust colored rainbow..."
The halfling peers into the room, going over every nook and cranny, but not moving from the entrance until he finds some kind of clue...
The columns are actually constructs called caryatid columns. They are immune to most magic.
(others can roll and might get more info. I do not believe players get to choose questions; instead, the GM gives as many facts as earned)
(You also may take one more round of actions. You do not turn up anything more with the perception checks.)
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Vulen has big stick at the ready and is trying to stay near the front as to ready for anything that might threaten the party. As he moves to the front you notice his face take on more of a bull like appearance and he his muscles begin to get bigger and 2 small horns start to sprout from his head.. almost like that of a bull
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"I'm not sensing any undead...yet. Still, we should be prepared."
"My my, that is a pity," Says a small, soft, simultaneously silky and sandpapery voice, from a short distance behind the rest.
Almost literally floating up from behind you arrives a small, puckish man, wearing a trim bodysuit of some exotic material, some very nice shoes, and a fine cloth mask that, all put together, leave little visible flesh save for large, slightly almond-shaped eyes the color of tin. He has a couple of surprisingly formidable-looking weapons and an assortment of tightly-fastened wands at his side, and in his hand...
...a candle lamp. Emitting a flame in the same impossible-seeming hue you saw earlier.
"Candledark the name I answer to; take care lest I answer it too often." He laughs, a soft yet ominous sound reminiscent of the last leaves of Autumn.
He approaches Riltar, interested both because he hasn't seen him before and because he senses he's the closest among present company to an intellectual peer. As if knowing what's on Riltar's mind, he begins conferring with him as to the mystery before them....
Working together, you realize that striking these can damage your weapon.
According to the map, Sarina has moved closer to one of the columns, which triggers them to attack.