You have been summoned to the Sandswept Hall in Sothis, the capital city of Osirion and the largest, most prosperous city within the kingdom.
You have been summoned to the Sandswept Hall in Sothis, the capital city of Osirion and the largest, most prosperous city within the kingdom.
But, you have yet to reach Sothis. The ship from Absalom has hit heavy winds and weather en route, suggesting that your arrival may be delayed. Nevertheless, there is plenty of room aboard ship to get to know your fellow Pathfinders somewhat better.
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A brown furred ratfolk in a dusty, mangy cloak boards the ship. He is carrying a staff like a walking stick and has a wayfinder hanging from a chain around his neck.
He is cheerful enough, holding out a paw to shake as he introduces himself to the various people on the ship. “Good to make your acquaintance! I’m Brekovi, a traveler and scholar.”
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A smartly dressed elf, clad in studded leather armor, stands on the upper deck of The Cresting Wave grumbling about the weather. And the delay.
He makes his way below deck to find other pathfinders milling about. He carries a brandy snifter in one hand with a bag of books slung over the other shoulder. While some of the crew guzzle ale, he savors a refined sip of his brandy, mumbling something about "...civilized drinking..."
With an air of superiority that is almost certainly undeserved, he approaches. "No, don't get up. Greetings. I'm Dr. Lazarus. You may simply call me Lazarus or Doctor." The elf studies the group with a keen eye.
He says, "I'm returning home from a mission in Galt. I'm a renowned forensics professor at the University of Osirion. You may have heard of me." After getting blank stares, he continues, "No matter. While somewhat skilled at healing..." he pats his healer's toolkit on his bandolier, "... I joined the Pathfinders to hone my investigative skills. That's how I make my living, you see. Relying on my books, uncovering clues, solving mysteries." Those nearby can see an elven curve blade sheathed over his back, with a hammer strapped at his waist. The well-built scholar adds, "I can handle myself in battle if needed." He refills his brandy snifter.
When Brekovi introduces himself, Lazarus nods. "Another scholar? It's a pleasure, my dear boy." He shakes the ysoki's paw in greeting and takes another sip of brandy.
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A older halfing with crisp white hair and polite yet serious manner, sits with the captain of the Cresting Wave. "This vintage comes to us from the Backar region of Molthune. The 4717 is particularly notorious as the harvests were interrupted by incursions by the Ironfang Legion that year. Its going to be a bit more vibrant than what you get from Cheliaxian wines. It is high in acid and tannins. Take a whiff, and notice the cinnamon notes and cedarwood."
"Feel free to keep the bottle, my captain. I suppose I should meet my fellow pathfinders." He gives a curt nod.
He is Phillipton, cleric of Halcamora, goddess of wine, gardens and hospitality. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Doctor. They call me Phillipton. I'm a trained batman, serving for Lady Alexayn of the Aspis Consortium before she met unfortunate end at Azlant Ridge. I tended to her wounds, and when we were back in Cheliax, to her gardens, and running her household as well. Of course, when those awful Charu-Ka killed my enslaver, I was homeless and alone in a Pathfinder camp. I've been with the society ever since." He wears a crisp dark suit and tails with white gloves.
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“Good to meet you too, Doctor! I studied at the Scrollspire in Thuvia. My focus was on arcane matters. I fear I know little of medicine other than the basics.”
“I’ve never been to the Sandswept Halls. Is there anything you can tell us about that lodge?”
Turning to Phillipton, he says “Pleased to meet you. I’m Brekovi. Do you still live in Chelliax? I hear they have no love for the Pathfinder Society.”
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"Ah," a voice calls from the back of the ship, as a tall half-orc man walks up from the aft of the ship. His clothes represent a man who is well traveled, who recognizes fine things, but has little sense of what goes together. The styles appear to be largely recognizable as native to Rhahadoum, but supplemented with accessories and armor that were clearly obtained from extensive travels throughout the northern continent.
"Another doctor, excellent." He glances between Lazarus and Brekovi. "I am glad to see that the Society has recognized the importance of having a keen analytical eye on these missions. I am Doctor Grime Percival Bloodshanks ... Just Doc will do. My specialty is in tending to the living, moreso than the field of forensics, so I hope that our expertise will complement each other."
He glances around. "While I'm thinking of it, does anyone have any medical conditions or allergies that I should be aware of?"
He smiles down at Phillipton. "I am sorry to hear of your trouble, my friend. May this journey go better, as you find a new path in the world."
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Greetings, I am Murph. Pleased to meet you all.
The gnome who introduces himself is about as non-descript as they come. Nothing about him really stands out from the crowd, but if you look closely, you see someone who can disappear at any moment.
I have the basics of Medicine, nothing near what the other folks are capable of, but it might help in a pinch. Other than that, Ispecialize in locks and not being seen.
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Doctor Lazarus is very impressed with this interesting group. He thinks, "Plenty of doctors and even another scholar." In between sips of his brandy, he greets the newcomers.
Turning to the half-orc, he nods and says, "Doc". Then turning to Phillipton, he extends a hand, "Doctor."
Turning to the small gourd, the Doctor raises an eyebrow, "Ahhh, a leshy? Rest assured dear boy, that my medical studies cover all living creatures." He puffs his chest out importantly, as if he's the only Doctor in the house.
He almost misses the rogue in his introductions. "My dear boy, you really do blend in." He is about to shake Murph's hand, but loses him in the crowd.
Turning back to the Doc, the Doctor says, "So, you tend to the living? With forensics, I've found I get much less complaining from the patients." He gives the Doc a knowing look.
Finally, he sits down with Phillipton. "I must admit, I was eavesdropping on your conversation with the Captain. So you're a sommelier? Very impressive, dear boy." He raises his brandy snifter in a toast.
Lazarus, the connoisseur, continues, "The 4717 is indeed a fine vintage. While I agree it does have a fine nose, it's just a tad pretentious for my tastes." Somehow, Lazarus has managed to find the one thing more pretentious than himself. "Would you like to try some of the finest brandy in Osirion?" He offers to pour a glass for Phillipton, as he takes another sip.
Having received a message from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin (see Handout #1: Valsin’s Message on Slides), the party has completed its voyage from Absalom to Sothis.
Sothis is the capital of Osirion and the kingdom’s largest and most prosperous city. Its skyline is dominated by the molted husk of Ulunat, a colossal beetle slain by Osirion’s first pharaoh. In the city, this select band of Pathfinders if free to gather and recall what information they can, making any purchases or other preparations accordingly, before proceeding to the lodge.
(I should have the modifiers for Diplomacy and Society already).
Doc Bloodshanks ponders a bit, but cannot recall any particularly useful information.
Making your way through the city of Sothis, you eventually arrive outside the Sandswept Hall. Here, doors beneath an immense archway bid entry to a compound surrounded by twelve-foot exterior walls. The courtyard beyond contains a lush garden filled with date palms, sycamores, and tamarisk trees. Strung between two rows of trees, a wooden framework gently bows, laden with hanging plants and fruiting grapevines.
The thick foliage grants welcome shade from Osirion’s blazing sun. Insects and small mammals occasionally skitter across the ground.
A pair of stone sphinxes frame the entrance to a two-story structure made from white limestone block, casting their reflections upon neighboring pools fed by aqueducts from the nearby River Sphinx.
A human woman adorned with garments bearing the official seal of the Ruby Prince stands beneath a tree, while a grippli man perches in the tree’s branches. He wears a loose-fitting robe and head scarf, and a wayfinder dangles from a cord around his neck.
Images of the human and grippli now on Slides.
Noticing that the two are no longer alone in the garden, the grippli jumps down to the ground and continues speaking. “As I was saying, a sudden shortage of labor has caused our local lodge to be a bit remiss in its maintenance of the grounds of late, but there is no cause for alarm,” the grippli declares loudly. “The Society’s minor lapse is certainly nothing to trouble the Ruby Prince with—may he live a pleasant and uncursed life.”
The official raises an eyebrow, but remains silent as the grippli continues. “Surely whoever reported the state of the grounds to your office is merely a concerned neighbor? And the Society endeavors to be a good neighbor as well! We’ll clean up straightaway. Why, I believe that this group of fresh faces may well be the additional hands that we have asked for help with, um, cleaning up, is that not so?"
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As the group heads to their destination, Dr. Lazarus orates (as if he's lecturing in one of his classes at the University), "Fun Fact: the Sandswept Hall, also known as the Sothis Lodge, is a former Osirion prison. It's now a storehouse and training facility for the Society." He pauses annoyingly before continuing with what he thinks is riveting information, "Part of the Hall's rich history is that it used to be the Osirion center for bounty hunting. Lower levels of the Lodge still hold those who pose significant danger to the Society." He pulls out his writing pad to take down notes that others may add.
Upon meeting the grippli, Dr. Lazarus nods at Brekovi's introduction, and adds, "As my esteemed colleague said, we're here to help ensure the Lodge is safe for all." He extends a hand in greeting. "I'm Dr. Lazarus ... a renowned forensics professor here at the University of Osirion. Surely my reputation precedes me." He starts to puff out his chest importantly, but stops when they have not, in fact, heard of him.
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Brekovi’s tail twitches and his gives Dr. Lazarus a perplexed look as he tells the group about the Sandswept halls. “I thought that it was the lodge that did bounty hunting in order to get a little extra income.” With a shrug, he then says “Thank you for the correction, that could have proven most embarrassing.”
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Doc bows toward the official and says, in Osiriani, "May the Ruby Prince's reign see many sunrises and sunsets."
After whatever seems an appropriate level of deference to the official, Doc turns his attention toward toward the grippli. "Venture-Captain Balentiir, I presume? Doctor Grime Pecival Bloodshanks, at your service. I stand at the ready to assist with all of my alchemical ..." He glances at the Ruby Prince's official and falters for a moment, taking weight of the social dynamics at play here, "... cleaning materials to help rectify this untidiness post haste." He glances around, apparently inspecting the area for anything that is out of place.
With respect to the Sandswept Hall, you have learned that the lodge’s automated defenses will not attack anyone displaying a wayfinder.
“Yes, we were to help with whatever tasks Venture Captain Balentiir needs.”
“I am Brekovi, a pleasure to meet you.” he says with a smile.
"This is most welcomed Kamarsent Mahderai, one of the city's many fine inspectors and the eyes of the Ruby Prince—may he days be full of good fortune and his nights of peace and delight," the grippli says by way of introduction and deference to the woman.
The woman nods in response.
"I'm Dr. Lazarus ... a renowned forensics professor here at the University of Osirion. Surely my reputation precedes me." He starts to puff out his chest importantly, but stops when they have not, in fact, heard of him.
"Your name is unknown to me, Doctor," Mahderai replies with suspicion. 'But your area of expertise seems quite beyond that of groundskeeper as your amphibious colleague here has suggested."
"I have come in come here in response to complaints made by the neighboring merchants about the state of the neglected grounds of your lodge," Mahderai explains. "Your gardens do not appear to be well-tended and city residents have been complaining of unpleasant odors and rotting fruit in the streets. Further, I have received reports of a rash of congregating rats and scorpion infestations from market stalls and residents nearby. The claims are that your lodge is the source."
"While such complaints may not, on their own, warrant much intercession, but they--and the presence of a forsenic specialist--may be an indication of some greater happening? notes Mahderai.
"Horatio Phillipton," Phillipton holds out his hand, "I've managed the household staff for Lady Alexayn of Cheliax for many years. I was sent here to help put things back into the tip-top shape."
"Your expertise does seem to be more applicable to the situation at hand," concedes the inspector, reconsidering the extent of her suspicions.
"Venture-Captain Balentiir, I presume? Doctor Grime Pecival Bloodshanks, at your service. I stand at the ready to assist with all of my alchemical ..." He glances at the Ruby Prince's official and falters for a moment, taking weight of the social dynamics at play here, "... cleaning materials to help rectify this untidiness post haste." He glances around, apparently inspecting the area for anything that is out of place.
A broad smile forms across the grippli's face as he politely nods in deference to the half-orc. "We have not had the good fortune of meeting before, Doctor, but I am Po'ogaat. You may call me 'Po', if you prefer. I, too, serve at the pleasure of Venture-Captain Balentiir."
"And just where is the good Venture-Captain Balentiir?" inquires the inspector, her voice once again taking on a more suspicious tone. "Perhaps, I should take a look around?"
Po'ogaat glances your way. His large, bulbous eyes seeming to plead for help in allaying the official's suspicions and sending her on her way.
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When Mahderai wonders why a forensics specialist is on the scene, Dr. Lazarus tries to ease her concerns. "Ah, my dear lady, this merely demonstrates that our Venture-Captain is taking your concerns so seriously that he's sending the very best to investigate." He positively glows when he sees that she appreciates the value of a forensics specialist.
The Doctor decides to share with her the finer points of city ordinances here in Sothis ...
... but he's apparently so flustered in being called a specialist that he can't remember a thing.
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“Pardon me, Kamarsent Mahderai. If this is to be an official inspection, could you perhaps find it in your graces to give us time to fix what is broken first?”
Making a show of brushing dust from his cloak, he says “We have just arrived and not had a chance to survey the work required. If you have not already done so, providing a complete list of the official complaints would certainly help us prioritize the tasks ahead of us.”
Although polite, he does put special emphasis on the words official inspection and official complaints. He fully expects that there would be quite a bit of paperwork involved in such things.
["Mum, I can assure you that the Lodge is in good hands, and that we will have it back in compliance with city codes. All it requires is a little bit of elbow grease, and I have never had an issue of putting my back into it." Phillipton waves his pristine white-gloved hand dismissively.
After considering the points raised by the others, Mahderai releases as a sigh after hearing Phillipton speak. "You do seem rather capable and confident that the issues raised by the complaints will be addressed. I shall report to the Ruby Prince--may his throne remain untarnished and his rulership long endure--that the Society has things well in hand."
"That we do," Po'ogaat ensures, trying to end the discussion quickly. "Now, come my fellow agents, let us go inside the lodge and go over your cleaning duties."
"I intend, however, to return at a future date," Mahderai cautions before departing, "to ensure the Society has resolved the situation."
Once the inspector has left, Po'ogaat croaks a sigh of relief. "Many thanks to you, Pathfinders. The Ruby Prince has only tightened restrictions on the activities of foreign-based explorers," says the grippli as he retrieves a voluminous canteen from the base of the tree. "Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir has been waiting for you ever since he contacted Valsin. My duties here make me the informal second-in-command of the Sothis Lodge, but it is the Venture-Captain that has been coordinating the bulk of the efforts. I will explain more once we are all inside."
Po'ogaat bids you to follow him into the lodge. As you walk, Po’ogaat wets his head scarf with the canteen before taking a long, hard drink, then moistening his eyeballs and lips with his tongue. “I truly love Sothis,” he notes, “but I cannot say my skin feels the same way. The dryness, however, is the least of our concerns.”
The grippli brings the party through the lodge’s entrance and into a side chamber before unlocking a heavy door that leads to a set of descending stairs. "The complaints noted by the investigator are legitimate. The surge of undead beneath the lodge has caused Venture-Captain Balentiir to focus the lodge’s resources on defense rather than maintenance of the gardens. Further, the undead presence has driven rats, scorpions, and other vermin to flee their underground homes."
Upon reaching the basement, Po’ogaat ushers you all through a series of locked doors, which he promptly locks again after the party passes through them. "Nearby agents have already been enlisted and our forces are spread thin. Your presence here now is most appreciated," Po'ogaat continues, even as he moves more quickly, "but I am sure that Valsin already informed you of such on account of the fact that you are here. Tell me, what information you still need and I will do my best to fill you in before we meet up with the Venture-Captain in the Hall of Recognition."
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Wishing he could've been more helpful, Dr. Lazarus gives a nod to Phillipton and the others who helped appease Mahderai. "Well done, my colleagues. Well done." He follows Po'ogaat inside.
When the grippli allows for questions, the investigator pulls out his writing pad. As a follow-up to Brekovi, he asks Po, "My dear boy, you've mentioned a surge of undead. Undead come in many shapes and sizes..." He rifles through his bag for a tome called "Undead: A Grave Situation" and continues, "...can you describe any specific rumors or sightings?" He jots down any information.
“What type of undead have been attacking? Is there any pattern you have found to their attacks?”
"The mindless type— mostly—but there have been reports of all kinds: ghasts, skeletons, wights, and zombies, to name a few," Po'ogaat explains. "The odd variety is part of what makes this incursion so unusual and its source so difficult to discern. Some of the intelligent undead have even been learning how to turn the hall’s defenses against us. It’s quite troubling!”
"My dear boy, you've mentioned a surge of undead. Undead come in many shapes and sizes..." He rifles through his bag for a tome called "Undead: A Grave Situation" and continues, "...can you describe any specific rumors or sightings?"
"Details have been rather sparse, given the brutality of the attacks and the extent of the losses," the grippli responds solemnly. "The initial reports of undead sighted in the vaults came in several months ago. The first waves weren’t as severe, but they’ve been getting worse each day.”
"Those undead initially spotted did not appear to come from our ranks, though, I am sad to say, some of ours have since been added to their number," Po'ogaat continues as he bids the party enter through another series of sturdy doors. "And, while there have been many deaths within the vaults over the years, their number does not begin to account for the hordes of undead in the incursion."
“Some though the incursion may be linked to an incident at the lodge that came to head over a decade ago. It involved a Pathfinder turned vampire and several of her spawn, or so I understand. Before my time, I’m afraid. Regardless, the Society eventually put a stop to it. Despite the variety of undead seen in the vaults, I’m unaware of any reports of even a single vampire. Thus, I have no reason to think that incident is related."
Do you have any idea where the undead are coming from, so we might be able to track them to their source?
"The source seems to lie somewhere deep underground—that’s all we know. Our trust is that you will be able to find their source."
“Are any of those other types incorporeal? I know ghosts are, but that is about the extent of my knowledge of the undead.”
"No reports of any incorporeal undead," Po'ogaat interjects. "Though, by their nature, such spirits are difficult to spot and are capable of hiding their presence quite easily."
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When the Doctor sees the Doc procure a Fan Feather Token, Lazarus nods his approval. "Ahhh, my boy. Great doctors think alike! I bought one of those a while back, just in case." He holds up his own Token and requests a batch of Dust of Appearance from his contact.
Interested in all things historical, Dr. Lazarus raises an eyebrow when he hears about a Pathfinder who turned vampire years ago. "Most interesting. Just in case it matters, do you recall who this unfortunate Pathfinder was?" He takes out his writing pad to take notes.
Before heading downstairs, Lazarus drinks one of his Lesser Antiplague potions.
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Doc looks around. "I have a couple of moderate antiplagues left from my daily preparations ... I always drink one myself, right after my preparations, to help boost the immune system, but if a pair of you want the others, they're available. Last for a full day, so great as a preventative measure. I'll save up the antidotes, since those have a shorter duration, until we reach the point where they are needed ... which hopefully won't come to pass, of course."