”Little more than what has already been said. She was indeed a gnome, visiting to pay her respects. She said the prayer would be helpful to future allies, perhaps ye were those she intended it for.”
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"Hmm. It is sad we can't find out more about her, she seems an... interesting individual. She didn't happen to mention where she was headed to next?" After a moment's thought, she adds "Since your watch is ended, do you yourself have any purpose for the cowl? Or might you be willing to part with it?" Her eyes glint momentarily with a veneer of slight greed (mostly as habit), but she suppresses it quickly. She reminds herself: This isn't a personal conquest, I'm on a mission for my faction and the society.
"My apologies, she did not. Her visit was a brief interruption of my vigil." The knight considers a moment, before folding back the cowl and undoing to clasp. "This relic was left to me as part of my duty. It has been wrongly kept from those who have rightful claim of it, and so I relinquish it to you, that it might return to its intended place." Stepping forward, she removes the cowl and presses it into Zehameti's hands.
"I fear there is little more I can offer you as aid. I thank ye for relieving me of my long duty, and bid thee farewell." She turns, her foxlike tail swishing excitedly as she marches through the brambles and into the trees. Without the cowl, a jagged woody hole can just be seen through her mail armor before the foliage obscures her from sight.
The Pathfinders investigate the rest of the abandoned mill, but find little of interest beyond a few intricate carvings the Crocus Knight apparently had been whittling to stave off boredom. With few other options, they depart the grove.
The mist seems to be thinner on the trip back, the ominous feeling of being watched not quite as strong as during the inward journey. As the sun starts to settle towards the horizon, the adventurers emerge from the thicket back into the more-familiar trees of the Arthfell Forest. You see Adelyn Rhinon next to a fire where a thick stew bubbles. "Were you successful? Did you put their spirits to rest? Come, bring your bowl and tell me what happened, and I will share nature's bounty with you." She ladles out forest mushrooms and herbs as she waits for a response.
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Wulbert is happy to finally get some warm food.
"I think we were successful. We found an old lumber mill in the middle of the Thicket where a friendly knight lived. Apparently she was a follower of Ng and had been tasked with guarding the place by this Zaul character who we were investigating... Anyway, he'd given her a magic item which Dora worked out may have been the cause of all the strange things happening here. Luckily as we'd made friends with her, she gave us the magic item and then left on her travels. So one theory is that if we take the item away with us it should remove the source of your problems."
Adelyn smiles. "Wonderful news! It will take me some time to undo the protections I have cultivated, but being able to see more of these woods than this small stretch will be well worth the wait." Rising, she walks smoothly through the thick underbrush towards the wall of thorns nearby. Even from a distance, the green fire dancing around her hands is visible in the last dregs of the sunset, before the wall of vines quivers and begins to melt from a vertical stance to a more natural ground covering. Adelyn dusts her hands and returns to the fireside. "Please, stay by my fire tonight and we shall both go our separate ways in the morn."
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The journey back to Absalom is smooth sailing - literally in this case, as favorable winds catch the schooner's sails without break and dolphins frolick in the waves off the bow. The ship's captain, a quiet undine, merely smiles and waves as the Pathfinders walked down the gangplank and make their way back through the city at the center of the world to the Grand Lodge. Inside, a new recruit quickly points you to a small library where the Master of Scrolls is expecting them.
Kreighton Shaine rises and smiles as you enter. "You've returned - excellent! And you have all the clues needed to unlock Eylysia's final message, correct? Come, no time to lose!" He beckons to follow him as he deftly flits through the crowded halls of the Grand Lodge towards one of the older wings of the building. "Based on your reports, I've brought what I could to what we think was- well, best not to put the dragon before the egg. We'll see soon enough, I hope." He makes it around one more corner before his excitement gets the best of him. "Oh, it can't hurt to tell you - we think we've found the site of Eylysia's final confrontation here at the Lodge before her sudden disappearance, and we're hoping she might have left a message - a message your recent discoveries could help us unlock!" He hurries down a flight of stairs, pausing at the bottom as you catch up before taking off once more. "Oh, and apparently this research has caught the attention of the Decemvirate - they informed me that some members will be in attendance." He stops before a large door make of oak with heavy iron fittings. "Ah, here we are! Are you ready?"
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~**EARLIER, on the boat**~
In the morning Zehameti will read aloud some of her favorite excerpts from her Book of War Prayers, as usual.
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~**NOW, in Absalom**~
Zehameti looks vaguely uncomfortable.
She didn't feel like they had learned much of anything so far, really. How could the disparate clues possibly fit together to decode some sort of message?
And who in the name of Nalinivati, Sarenrae, & Desna were these mysterious "Decemvirate." Though she was glad to be meeting them face-to-face for the first time, she generally preferred to know more about who she was meeting beforehand.
Friend or Enemy or Neither or Both.
"Excellent!" Shaine pulls open the door to reveal a large library well-worn with age. Shelves packed with tomes and scrolls line the walls, and several statues have apparently been placed here for safekeeping as they huddle together in one corner. Several display cases - some empty, some full - create hints of hallways and paths within the space.
Two masked figures stand in the center of the room. One wears a helm resembling flowing water that seems to ripple and shift with their movements, while the other's mask resembles a steel whorl with three eyeholes. Both figures nod, but say nothing as the Pathfinders enter the room.
"Alright then," Shaine continues, clapping his hands excitedly, "go ahead and unlock Eylysia's final message!"
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Before entering the room, Zehameti will tick off all the information they have gleaned so far, and maybe ask Cara for a charge off that Wand of Bless they found earlier, just in case.
~~*Quest #1: "Collection"*~~
Background knowledge:
Fort Korvosa was constructed by Chelish marines under the command of Field Marshal Jakthion Korvosa. Once completed, it served as a defensive position from which settlers and explorers would enter Varisia. Korvosa has since become a major cosmopolitan city. Imps, otyughs, and shrew flies pose concerns for unsuspecting visitors. Near the conclusion of the Everwar, Field Marshal Korvosa led a band of soldiers from Cheliax into Varsia. They met fierce resistance from Shoanti tribes (or “quahs”). As Korvosa’s troops wore down, relief came by way of the gentleman explorer, Montlarion Jeggare. Leading an expedition up the river now bearing his name, Jeggare delivered transport and supplies to Korvosa’s beleaguered soldiers.
Reading through the chronicles after completing repairs, Zehameti notices details of certain sites described in Helven Leroung's published accounts differ from recent maps and surveys of the same areas. This suggests that perhaps Helven was never at those locations. The word choice and syntax in Helven's accounts are also atypical of Chelish authorship, though they do remind you of stories passed down in an oral tradition.
The totem is incomplete, but otherwise similar to an array of Shoanti totems displayed in the gallery. The totem’s base, a carved horse, is missing. Maaldrek noticed a hidden compartment attached to the bottom of the totem: within the compartment was a sketch of a man wearing a triple-flanged helm without eyeholes , a black ring, and a scrawled note that says simply, “Helven took the base of this totem for some purpose I cannot ascertain. Perhaps he has taken it to Absalom?”[/b]
The papers consist of field reports and notes collected by Montlarion, and the ring has a magic aura.
Looking over the collected artifacts, Zehameti leads the way. The Pathfinders find depictions on some Shoanti reliefs predating the arrival of Chelish settlers bear striking parallels and similarities to Helven’s accounts.
As Dora reads through the chronicles further, there are claims that Helven provided intelligence to Chelish forces regarding the location of a Shoanti tribe known to be plundering sites around the region. Other accounts report that witnesses told Montlarion of a Chelish woman aiding a Shoanti tribe during the war before those Shoanti were slain.
~~*Quest #3: "Dust"*~~
a simple stone archway, bereft of any decoration, in the style of unappealing, functional adequacy is fitting for the level of work that the faithful of the dwarven deity Droskar, the Dark Smith, would create - and far below the standard of the masterfully-engraved walls one would usually find in dwarven cities.
HAUNT:
As Maaldrek and Zehameti move down the steps, they notice the sounds of toiling and weeping growing stronger and stronger. Four dwarves step forward from the darkness, each wearing a crude medallion around their neck, emblazoned with a fire underneath a stone arch.
As the four draw their hammers, one of them begins to mutter incoherently. Suddenly, he turns as strikes the dwarf to his left! Another dwarf breaks into gibberish, then another, then the last, until all four are fighting amongst each other live wild beasts. After what seems like minutes (or maybe just seconds), only one dwarf remains standing. She blinks and seems to return to her senses, looking down at the warhammer in her hand. "This weapon struck no enemies," she intones, her voice echoing as if from a great distance, "only my brothers and sisters. I have failed..."
She turns suddenly, and backs away towards the north. "No... Please, spare me..." she pleads at a humanoid figure wearing dark clothes and a domino mask. The stranger draws a blade and cuts the dwarf down, and she falls to the ground over the pristine warhammer that leans against the wall. The stranger turns their domino mask towards Zehameti. The Nagaji can make out no expression behind the mask, but somehow she feels their glare. Crystal tears trickle from the mask's eyes, vanishing before they hit the ground as the vision fades.
A few tablets lean against the wall, each undamaged save for bearing a drawing of a round goblin head with knives for teeth.
The tablets contain an ancient ballad that tells the story of a dwarf named Jorgar Ironbellows, an ambitious noble who murdered his father to secure his inheritance, only to be assassinated by his own son in turn. The fable serves as a cautionary tale, warning others about the folly of favoring one’s own ambition above the lives of their fellow dwarves.
As Zehameti moves to pass the tablet to her fellow Pathfinder, she sees a vision of an elderly gnome woman in the room as well. The gnome sighs sadly, remarking, "If only this song had been sung in the halls of Absalom's lodge. Perhaps these lessons would have saved a few lives, and a few reputations." She looks up at the Nagaji and smiles warmly. "Sing it once more for me the next time you're there, would you?"
~~*Quest #2: "Autumn"*~~
Background knowledge:
Creatures of the First World have called the Arthfell Forest home for longer than mortal memory. Conflicts between the fey range from mischievous fun to deadly serious. The Arthfell druids historically act as peacekeepers between human communities and fey. Since a schism divided the druids, those diplomatic connections have all but dried up. Andoren druids celebrate the changing seasons with holidays. The most important of these celebrations occur in spring, symbolizing new life, and autumn, symbolizing acceptance of death.
"You may call me Adelyn Rhinon," the woman continues. "I do not know the name Zaul Blystone, but if you truly are Pathfinders, then I would ask you a favor." She gestures to the woods beyond the wall of thorns. "The thicket within here is blighted from a senseless massacre of others from my circle centuries ago. They do not rest well, and the same souls that once welcomed travelers and encouraged a flower's bloom now cause leaves to wither and strangers to become lost. The Greenfire planted this barrier to keep unsuspecting visitors from their deaths, and my task is to maintain it." She frowns. "As you can see, the same blight that curses the thicket also drains the life from the thorns. Attacks by the Shadow Pact have certainly not made thing easier either."
"So! I will open the barrier to you, and I ask that you seek the source of this blight and bring their spirits peace. Would you do that for me?"
"If only I could tell you. I have tended these lands for many decades, but the events that blight this thicket occurred long before my time. I cannot enter even to investigate this past, such that all I have heard is from those that came before me. I am told it was senseless and cruel, but the specifics are lost to time."
"It was Zaul whom revealed the secrets of the Thicket of Endless Fall to me. Once I swore to take up the guardianship, he departed to find more allies, but never returned. If ye have proof of treachery on his part, I would gladly hear it. But first, attend here to Lorg Ng, in whose name I have served these many years."
Her free hand gestures to the large wooden statue that protrudes from the front of the mill, a hooded figure much like the one found on the path to the thicket. A pile of pumpkins and bright red berries sit on the ground before the hooded figure, and above them words are carved into the statue's base.
“Like the Lord of Seasons, our hoods illuminate truth, while their masks shelter deceit. Let this be the sign of our covenant. -E”
"I feared him slain by those he warned would defile the sacred grounds. If they be naught but phantoms, his absence comes into new light. Then it would seem my watch has ended. What of the traitor then? Not slain by imaginary defilers, nor returned here for whatever purpose intended. Do ye know his fate?"
”Such is the way of the world. He seemed much as you do to me, a younger race. He was not of the First World, unlike the visitor I had since. It was she that inscribed the prayer you see before Ng. It seems you have a better understanding of its meaning than I. She was indeed a gnome, visiting to pay her respects. She said the prayer would be helpful to future allies, perhaps ye were those she intended it for. Her visit was a brief interruption of my vigil."
The knight considers a moment, before folding back the cowl and undoing to clasp. "This relic was left to me as part of my duty. It has been wrongly kept from those who have rightful claim of it, and so I relinquish it to you, that it might return to its intended place." Stepping forward, she removes the cowl and presses it into Zehameti's hands. "I fear there is little more I can offer you as aid. I thank ye for relieving me of my long duty, and bid thee farewell."
The powers ascribed to the Autumn's Cowl are likely the cause of the overgrowth, rather than any divine intervention.
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Entering the room, Zehameti looks around the room curiously in response to Shaine's instruction to "go ahead and unlock Eylysia's final message."
WHAT message, though? Is the whole room her "message?" Location of her 'final confrontation,' huh?
She looks incredulous, but tries to ignore the Decemvirate's watchful gaze as she inspects the contents of the library, looking for any type of inscription or clue like they found in the glade earlier.
Searching through the shelves, Zehameti quickly spots the carved horse that matches the totem which held the hidden compartment with the sketch of the Decemvirate member. Both of the masks born by the present members are different from the triple-flanged mask in the drawing.
Wulbert detects no auras on the carved totem. Looking over the horse, no hidden compartments are obvious, only the uneven coloration showing where the rider used to sit.
Taking the totem found in the museum, the party is able to slide it over the top of the carved base to form a complete figure of a mounted Shoanti warrior.
"Intriguing." Shaine inspects the totem with his usual unbridled curiosity. "What had been separated is now whole. What else must be done?"
"According to your reports from the museum, he was a Pathfinder that chronicled much of the early Korvosan campaigns, was he not? And perhaps something more, if that sketch is to be trusted." Shaine listens to Zehameti's performance and waits expectantly, but nothing else comes. "Are we missing anything?"
"Yes, what clue did Eylysia leave for you to find there?" The two Decemvirate members remain silent observers as the party works out the puzzle.
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The ophidian woman removes Autumn's Cowl from the group's storage and repeats what they have learned, that it changes plant growth around it as well as protecting the wearer from cold, and allowing... her eyes fly back to the totem. Could it be? ...allows the wearer to become insubstantial, allowing them to do such things as fly or fit through small openings, at the cost of losing armor and spellcasting. ..But whatever could that have to do with the ambitions of a patriciding dwarven noble inheritance line?
She inspects the totem again, looking for any other cracks that might provide a... secret entrance, perhaps, once insubstantial? Though, no, that still wouldn't change your overall SIZE. Hmm
Dora thinks Wulbert is on to something.
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In response to Wulbert's comment, Zehameti slaps her own forehead with her palm out of awe in her own stupidity. "Oh! Of course! The literal message Elysia left inscribed on the statue of Ng! It seemed to imply that if you raised your hood over your head, it would stand as a sign of support or alliance." and raises her hood while repeating “Like the Lord of Seasons, our hoods illuminate truth, while their masks..." at this her eyes flick over to the Decemvirate masked strangers... "...shelter deceit. Let this be the sign of our covenant."
Kreighton Shaine watches with interest as seconds pass, but little appears to happen. "Perhaps you all must participate? Have you all cloaks of your own?"