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An aged samsaran man with light blue skin and wisps of white hair shuffles in. A long, wizardly white beard and mustache covers his face. He wears a light brown bathrobe over finely-crafted darkleaf armor. Comfy fleece-lined wool slippers cover his feet. A copy of the Absalom Times is tucked underneath one arm. In his other hand, he holds a ceramic mug that says "#1 Grampa" filled with piping hot tea. He seems disoriented as he stops in the middle of the room.
"Well now. This isn't the men's washroom."
He says in puzzlement as he glances with squinty eyes about the room.
"Huh. That's strange. I think I'm supposed to actually be here, though."
"Yes, Shamus. You're supposed to be here. You were called to go on a mission, you scatterbrained old coot."
A deep man's voice of an ancestral spirit calls out from within his mind.
"Aaahhh!"
Shamus points a finger in the air as he suddenly remembers.
"Yes, yes. That is right. Well, I'll just wait for the others to arrive."
"Oooh. That chair over there looks comfy. Take a rest, Shammy. I'm sure your new friends will be here soon."
A pleasant feminine voice says from within.
"Yes, yes. That does look comfy now."
Shamus shuffles over to the plush chair, sets his adventurer's pack down, and takes a seat. He settles in, takes a sip of tea, then places the mug on the small table to the side. He rests the paper on his lap and waits patiently as he looks about the room. He tilts his head back, and within moments, begins to snore.
You travel to Lastwall, where they meet with the Venture-Captain Shevar Besnik in the back room of the Ace of Dreams, a gambling house that serves as the Pathfinder Society’s Uscalin Lodge.
Loud and raucous conversation filters through the door from the common room of the Uscalin Lodge, which doubles as the Ace of Dreams gambling house. “I know it’s here. I had it just a moment ago.” Venture-Captain Shevar Besnik lifts piles of papers and numerous boxes off of his desk, stacking them on various side tables and chairs in his clean but overly cluttered office. The tall, Varisian man’s face parts in a toothy grin as he lifts up a solid oak box. “Found it!” As if to punctuate his discovery, a crowd of players in the gambling hall erupts in cheers. Distracted for a moment, Besnik stares at the closed office door that leads to the common room. “Desna laughs. Well, she laughs at me, but
she smiles on them.” The venture captain shrugs. “All they have is gold; what I have in here is far more valuable.”
Besnik opens the box’s lid painstakingly slowly, careful to keep the contents out of sight. With reverence, he lifts a large tome from the box and gently sets it on the table. “Careful, the binding hasn’t held up well. This is one of the few Tomes of Righteous Repose left in the world. I’m pretty sure there’s one in the library of the Sancta Iomedaea in Vigil, but I’m—well, let’s just say I’m no longer welcome there. That’s a story for another time.
“Up until today, I’ve only skimmed the pages. I didn’t want to damage it, but now that you’re here, I can’t wait any longer. Care to plumb the depths of this most ancient and wonderful storybook? Oh, the marvelous adventures we will soon read! This tome is a collection of tales describing how various crusaders died gloriously and honorably. I’m hoping to find some clues in the text that will lead us to an as-of-yet undiscovered site or relic. Maybe we can trade a bit of what we find with the Knights of Ozem and earn ourselves some goodwill. After what happened last time, we need it.“Care to peruse the pages with me?”
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Harkness grins. Now that sounds like a story I would like to hear Venture Captain - and I am sure I can swap you some stories about some of the roguish things I've been up to, such as asking for a date in the middle of a fight he chuckles a bit. In some places, it's been ... "Lock up your daughters - Harkness is in town"
But sure, books can be an adventure in itself. What wonders are within I wonder. Mysteries to uncover. I am SO in to this
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“Up until today, I’ve only skimmed the pages. I didn’t want to damage it, but now that you’re here, I can’t wait any longer. Care to plumb the depths of this most ancient and wonderful storybook? Oh, the marvelous adventures we will soon read!
Agirran looks at the venture captain like the man is a fool. The big, scowling, white-haired Ulfen's muscled chest and arms are covered in arcane writing the only easily decipherable bit being the Taldane characters tattooed over his heart that read "These Inks Don't Run".
He tries his best to ignore the idiot-dandy and looks at the book.
Harkness grins. Now that sounds like a story I would like to hear Venture Captain - and I am sure I can swap you some stories about some of the roguish things I've been up to, such as asking for a date in the middle of a fight he chuckles a bit. In some places, it's been ... "Lock up your daughters - Harkness is in town"
But sure, books can be an adventure in itself. What wonders are within I wonder. Mysteries to uncover. I am SO in to this
Agirran shakes his head in exasperation.
"Could we maybe all just shut up and look at the damn book already?" Agirran says meaningfully.
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Tired and worn out from the long journey to Lastall, Shamus flinches from the loud noises coming from next door.
"Good heavens, lad! What's the deal with a gambling hall being in a Pathfinder lodge?"
He shakes his head in annoyance and cringes again from another sudden burst of loud cheers.
"I can barely hear myself think!"
"Could we maybe all just shut up and look at the damn book already?" Agirran says meaningfully.
Shamus nods in agreement.
He shuffles towards the great tome on the desk."Well, whatever."
He scoffs, dismissing the noise with a wave of his hand.
"This tome is what we're here for. I am a professor of history for new recruits back at the lodge in Absalom, you know. Let's see what we can garner from the writings within, shall we?"
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Tired and worn out from the long journey to Lastall, Shamus flinches from the loud noises coming from next door.
"Good heavens, lad! What's the deal with a gambling hall being in a Pathfinder lodge?"
He shakes his head in annoyance and cringes again from another sudden burst of loud cheers.
"I can barely hear myself think!"
"Allow me." Agirran says.
He strides to the door, opens it and yells out into the main room before slamming the door, and returning to the table as if nothing happened.
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Shamus gives Agirran a squinty smile and a pat on the shoulder in appreciation.
"A world of thanks, my good man."
Inspecting the tome, Shamus turns to Besnik.
"How did you manage to aquire such a remarkable book?"
"Surely there must be a copy in the Forae Logos. Unless, of course, there hasn't been a chance to make a copy, yet."
Shamus strongly considers the possibility of being one of the scribes, perhaps Head Scribe, to assist in producing a copy for the great library.
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The large female Half-Orc with flaming red hair and shining armor enjoys the raucous atmosphere as she heads to the back room, laughing heartily along with the players, but glowers menacingly at anyone she notices cheating on the way.
"Have you no honor? The Strong Man condemns your cheating ways!"
Once in the backroom, she waits impatiently for everyone to arrive, making pleasurable small talk in the meantime, but practically bouncing out of anticipation. As Besnik lifts the dilapidated tome out of its protective layers, Grelthe's eyes seems to glaze over with what might appear to the outside observer as greed, but is actually more of an extreme excitement and respect for knowledge - especially in regards to religious heroes of old!
Her excitement is more obvious as she starts removing objects from her own bag: paper, an inkpen, and two books of her own entitled "Tome of Epics" and "Book of War Prayers." She explains hastily "For cross-references!" This powerfully built (and charming) woman did NOT initially seem like a stereotypical bookworm by any means.
She nods along enthusiastically with the suave slyph's assessment, thinking THIS guy gets it! Then responds to Lanthirion with a simple "Well, there's an easy way to test that theory." gesturing at her papers. She then flushes a darker green "Well, I mean, that is, obviously we don't have the time to transcribe the whole thing right now, but uh, I just... wanted to take notes?" Normally, she was much smoother than this, but in all her excitement she forgot to put on her confident airs. Her enthusiasm is adorable and as she grins excitedly the light flashes off her tiny tusks.
The strange looking red scorpion on Rogarch's shoulder turns to Greithe practically beaming with goodwill and positive energy. His demeanour seems strangely comforting and familiar to the paladin.
The venture captain keeps quiet and presses on alright it looks like you're ready. He wonders about this group, you can tell he thinks this is an oddball group or full of yourselves. But you are just the ones for this job. A classic dungeon.
You gain all the info.
15+: Rellakarabee Fustbickle is a gnome poet, known mostly among literary scholars. His subject matter revolves around heroic figures and tragic deaths. His style is too melodramatic to gain significant acclaim, though he is popular in some circles.
20+: Fustbickle based his poems on true stories from the Shining Crusade. However, the finer details are ambiguous at best. Rumors suggest he was on speaking terms with the mortal Iomedae.
10+: Lastwall was established in 3828 ar, when it seceded from Taldor. It is a military dictatorship, primary focused on keeping the Whispering Tyrant locked away and the orc hordes of Belkzen at bay.
15+: Lastwall originated from the remnants of crusaders living in the area after the conclusion of the Shining Crusade, the great war against the evil wizard-king TarBaphon (also known as the Whispering Tyrant,who rose after his death as a lich).
20+: Lately, Lastwall has had to recruit less pious individuals to fill its ranks. On the borders, followers of Gorum and Kurgess are more common than paladins of Iomedae and Sarenrae.
You are going to the second dungeon, Lastwall.
Player Handout 2, Ode to Lost
Oh Heroes,
Ne’er shall we see you again in life,
For we hid you like buried treasure
‘Neath the halls of poor, sweet Mordesha,
Away from our foes’ rasping voices.
Yet they found you, sharpened your edges
Turned you loose as wild dogs
In poor, sweet Mordesha.
Though we remember you,
We’ll forget where you rest.
The knights have clamored long
For ignorance of your fate.
Our thoughts of you burn bright
But brighter is poor, sweet Mordesha
Her chimneys rise as skel’tal fingers
Desperate call, betrayal anew
We turn away, willfully blinded
From the eyes of poor, sweet Mordesha.
“Mordesha? Is that the name of a place or a person? Are the samurai the heroes who the poem evokes? Wherever these terrible events took place holds the answers to our mystery. Once we can verify the location, we can share the information with the Knights of Ozem. If some dark force still haunts the place, remove it. I have a ritual that can unravel evil magic.” Besnik searches through his office, eventually producing a finger-length scroll case.
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But you are just the ones for this job. A classic dungeon.
Well obviously I'm the fighter. By the book, Red-Green's the cleric, Blue's a wizard--just... blue, Not sure about the jacked girl or the "blank slate" elf, Lan. Weird it's like I forget what he looks like even if I'm looking his way. Then of course there's Captain Obvious. Do we have a rogue among them?
You gain all the info.
"Lemme see that." Agirran says gruffly. "Hey, what about this under the dog ear?"
The strange looking red scorpion on Rogarch's shoulder turns to Greithe practically beaming with goodwill and positive energy. His demeanour seems strangely comforting and familiar to the paladin.
"What in the Nine is that?" Agirran says reaching to slip off one thick boot. "Hold still. This is gonna get messy."
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"I'm no expert on poetry, but this is very interesting. So mysterious and cryptic."
He looks up suddenly from the book as Agirran alerts everyone to the presence of a large creepy scorpion on Rogarch's shoulder.
"Wait, No!"
Shamus shouts.
"I believe that's her emotional support creature. Don't kill it."
Shamus shuffles over to Rogarch to get a closer look at the strange creature.
"Ah!"
He remarks excitedly.
"A greensting scorpion. Quite common among wizards lately. I'll have to see if there's an entry in my journal."
He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a tattered journal titled "Get it Off Me!” handwritten across the front. He flips through the pages for a moment then closes the journal and places it back into his bag.
"Nope. No entry for it. The contents within are mainly creatures to be encountered in the wilds, the outer planes, or dank dungeons."
"Now, then. Back to this interesting tome of knowledge."
He shuffles back to the book on the table.
Helping Hand decides to retreat for now inside his safe space (Familiar Satchel). He looks at Agirran through a tiny air hole.
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Rogarch nods at the Ulfen's reaction.
"Right. I should have introduced my travelling companion. His name is Helping Hand."
"I doubt that the boot would have done much anyways. He is rather hardy."
The bloodrager makes inquires among the drunken crowd.
"Yes. When you crowd source a problem in a tavern you cannot expect a quality answer. Perhaps one of the wizards might know this topic a bit better?"
Again, you gain all the info
10+: The government of Lastwall is run by the military with a single elected leader, the watcher-lord. Though the Knights of Ozem are prominent in both the military and politics, not all citizens are knights, nor even soldiers.
15+: Followers of good deities are abundant Lastwall, but so are followers of other militaristic deities such as Gorum. Though known as a nation of paladins and clerics, many of the soldiers in Lastwall are not very religious.
20+: Defenses against the orcs have been waning, and many Lastfolk are concerned that if the orcs organize enough to mount an offensive, Lastwall may not survive the attack.
25+: The crusaders spend most of their resources guarding their borders, while dark forces go unnoticed inside the country. Yet if the knights move resources from the battlefront to patrol the interior, the borders could
quickly crumble.
10+: During the Shining Crusade, Tar-Baphon used the corpses of his rivals as new recruits for his ever-growing undead armies.
15+: To protect their dead from joining the Whispering Tyrant’s army, the members of the Shining Crusade interred their dead in hidden crypts beneath consecrated cathedral grounds. Powerful necromancers could still overcome these protections and breach the crypts, however. Mordesha could be the name of one of these hidden sites.
You are given a clue to the location of the place.
There is a fire-blackened field 46 miles north of Vellumis with tall cairns called Yua’s Fingers. Locals believe it is an old druid site, fouled by evil magic. Other rumors report the area to be haunted. The roads in the area curve a mile around it.
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Yeah .... it's the big black desert scorpions you got to watch out for ... the only cure for those is a bullet ... or a boot. They'll sting you to death given an opportunity. And lets not forget the rattlesnakes. Found one in my boot once ... Onery little critter. Had to wait until it crawled out then shot it between the eyes. Good eating those.
Helping Hand feels that the period of potential danger is over so he crawls back out of his protective carrier. The red scorpion is waving and smiling at the party (including Agirran) and looks quite friendly.
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"Yes Greithe. He is nice. Actually he was sent to me in a vision by Kurgess himself. He led me out of captivity and to my birth mother to start a new life."
"It is safe to say that he is not a regular scorpion or really an animal anymore. Clearly his body is animated by a divine spirit of sorts. As for why a scorpion was chosen and in the frozen north no less is a mystery to me."
"Jim, as for other scorpions or rattle snakes I will have to take your word for it. I am just not that familiar with these sorts of creatures. They simply cannot survive in the north."
Before entering the dungeon Rogarch draws a wand and with a little help from her familiar she attempts to activate it. The wand glows slightly and Rogarch's senses sharpen. She sheathes her wand for latter use.
Rogarch readies a pair of smoked goggles with the lenses pushed high up on her forehead right on top of a mop of her golden hair.
"My mentor, a seeker mentioned that he faced a Basilisk once. Frankly I don't know how he was able to see out of these goggles. With any luck these goggles will only be my dungeon fashion accessory and not be put to use."
Helping Hand waits right before they enter the dungeon to slap Rogarch with some more divine luck (Guidance).
Alright so you go down the steps and enter the dungeon, it is dark and cold down here.
agirran you don't see it
The rest of you are too far away to see it coming around the corner, as it is on the other side of the wall, you have to be right up to the wall and see it before you pass into the room.
Alright, so you don't see and activate the wall sythe trap, only it can only be on one side of the wall, so, I have to roll to see which side it is on 1=fury, 2=jim
after the trap goes off, you can take your time and go on the far side of it, going around and then disabling it from the front where nobody can get hit from it if you fail.
Treasure You now have a mundane scythe.
Agirran the Fury you just took 11 damage from a sycthe.
As you move into the room
A cavernous chamber reaches east and west, and several smaller corridors branch outward from it. Dust and neglect mark this chamber, and darkness fills its corners. To the east lies a single stone sarcophagus. A long passage of text is carved into the wall behind the sarcophagus.
A plaque on the lid of the sarcophagus bears the words “General Dame Vheist” and Aroden’s holy symbol. The text on the wall behind the sarcophagus describes a mighty battle, in which the general charged at the point of a formation of cavalry into a valley full of undead.
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Grelthe *knows* she needs to check for things like traps, ambushes, & secret doors - she DOES have rogue friends, after all. She is just generally *REALLY* bad at it. But she always *tries* cause sometimes she gets lucky.
Grelthe hovers in the hallway, frowning while looking up, distracted by an... odd looking spot in the ceiling.
Once the trap triggers on Agirran, she grimaces apologetically and offer to tap him with her healing wand.
Grelthe will try to generally stay at the edge of Agirran's light just so she can "scout" ahead with her 60' darkvision. She generally tries to be near the front (cause Melee) unless there is a better trap-senser/scout in the party, cause obviously that is not her strength.
Grelthe is very excited at the wall inscriptions, and takes notes - cross-referencing with her book when applicable.
You don't spot any new traps, and you already know the old one is there because it has been activated, but now you know which way it swings which is why I bypassed the disable check, you stand in spot where you aren't in danger while disabling.
Grelthe examines the coffin and she recognizes the name of this important general. She died in 3825 ar at the decisive Battle of Crumblespine Ridge while leading her troops to victory.
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agirran you don't see it
Treasure You now have a mundane scythe.
Agirran the Fury you just took 11 damage from a sycthe.
Yoicks .... you okay there mate?
"Tickles." he says. "I've had closer shaves"
Once the trap triggers on Agirran, she grimaces apologetically and offer to tap him with her healing wand.
"Where in the Nine did you buy that?" he says looking at the wand sourly.
Grelthe will try to generally stay at the edge of Agirran's light just so she can "scout" ahead with her 60' darkvision. She generally tries to be near the front (cause Melee) unless there is a better trap-senser/scout in the party, cause obviously that is not her strength.
He swigs a potion from his belt.
"Now that's what I call healing, sister."
Grelthe examines the coffin and she recognizes the name of this important general. She died in 3825 ar at the decisive Battle of Crumblespine Ridge while leading her troops to victory.
"Well, good for her." Agirran says under his breath.
Using the wall for cover Agirran looks down the next passage .
Agirran definitely does not see any enemies in room 8 , this does not mean, they aren't in there against the walls or aren't in the center of the room with an invisibility spell on them, just not in where you can see them in that straight line.
Agirran also doesn't see any traps in room 8 down that straight line, but he might not know how to spot them either.
Helping Hand scans the area as well and listens for any possible noise. He crawls up to Rogarch's breast pocket for a better vantage point.
20 for Perception on a take 10. He also has Darkvision 60 feet.
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"Good heavens! You alright, Agirran?"
Shamus asks, then realizes the hardy Ulfen is okay.
"Luckily that scythe trap didn't take off any of our heads."
Shamus moves past the blade slowly and runs a finger along the blade.
"Pretty dull, too."
He cringes.
"I think it would be a good idea if I summoned one of my ancestral spirits to assist us. An unseen servant, so to speak, to trigger any traps we miss or carry items we find. He'll last about three hours. What do you think, my friends?"
He shuffles into the room up to the sarcophagus.
"Interesting. The Battle of Crumblespine Ridge, you say?"