“Do we behave out of fear of punishment, or out of the demands of our heart? For me, it is the latter, as I would hope is true for all adults, thought I know from bitter experience that such is not often the case.”
~ The Ghost King
You have all gathered in VC Norden Balentiir’s office on the second floor of Sandswept Hall, home of the Sothis Lodge of the Pathfinder Society. A location no doubt familiar to some of you.
After introducing himself, the Venture-Captain shutters off the windows overlooking the lodge’s tranquil gardens and seats himself behind his writing desk before raising his hand for silence.
“Osirion is filled with countless ruins, pyramids, tombs, and other strange structures dating back thousands of years. For centuries, the lore and artifacts locked away in these locations were out of reach, but the Ruby Prince Khemet III saw the potential for increased trade and taxation in these long-buried sites, and decided to allow explorers and treasure-seekers to enter these tombs.”
“The Pathfinder Society has been at the forefront of this work for many years. Our best Osiriontologists lead teams all over the country that send historical items, preserved mummies, and even magic items back to Absalom for cataloging and further study—after securing approval and paying the appropriate fees to the pharaoh, of course.”
“One of the more productive ruins is the Bent Pyramid, named for the edifice’s crooked apex.”
Though the more otherworldly note the shallower angle follows the trajectory of the wandering planet Aucturn in Golarion’s sky for the 4 months of every 56 years when the two planets are at their closest distance to each other.
“Items found within indicate the pyramid was used as a residence by an Osiriani mage who called himself Aram-Hul, and was converted to his tomb when he died unexpectedly. The Pathfinder researchers have placed his death near the end of the reign of the Four Pharaohs of Ascension.”
Legends state that the Four Pharaohs were only able to set their mutual distrust aside and ally with one another after they magically bound their fates together in a solemn pact: a pact that rendered any further attacks against one another futile and perhaps suicidal.
“Despite the numerous traps and lingering magical effects, our people recovered several especially interesting items, which they boxed up and sent away by caravan.”
VC Balentiir frowns. “Unfortunately, every single one of these items has been stolen by hooded raiders who attack the caravans at night, not far from the excavation site. Originally thought to be an opportunistic local rabble, the skill and coordination of their attacks have convinced me that whoever is behind the thefts is specifically after the liberated artifacts.”
“My own opinion: sounds like Gnight Gnomes.”
“I would like you to travel to the Society’s Dig Site in the Valley of the Pyramids, a few days travel south of here to consult with the Expedition’s leader, Pathfinder Delver Abasi Semru. Track down the raiders, recover any stolen items still in their possession and put an end to their raids.”
“Now whom may I tell Semru I am sending? Are there any questions at this stage? Semru is obviously better placed to respond to anything site specific than I am.”
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An elven female sitting quietly in the corner speaks up. ”Id expect you know exactly who we are as we were given missives to appear here today. But you can tell them that Tessara Omelion will be joining the expedition.”
Know. History
Unfortunately, Tess’s knowledge of Osirion’s history was lacking. ”I suspect any questions I have would be best answered by Semru.”
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A tall, bow-wielding elf wearing armor made from glittering golden scales with a disdainful look approaches the group. Behind them is a walking tree that stands nearly 15 feet tall, stout but with some branches showing evidence of rot.
They nod to the group and give a curt "Imago" as introduction. Pointing to the treefolk behind them, they add, "Brethí." They then sit cross-legged to await Shaine's announcement.
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Dolomite, early to the meeting, sits contentedly and still as stone as the others gather. His skin is the color of granite and occasionally reflects a random beam of light like a mirror. He wears no armor or shield and carries a minimum of weapons. Those who look see kama and nunchaku on his belt and a spear lays at his feet. He regards each person joining serenely with a slow nod.
Letting others speak first Dolomite finally offers his name and then asks Venture captain, has there been any reports of attacks at the dig site? I suspect these raiders are happy to allow the pathfinders to do the work of finding these artifacts. How many attacks have happened and have there been survivors? And why are the caravans leaving so near night that they are still near the dig site when attacked. Does the heat of the sun during the day preclude travel?
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"Or, for a simpler question, Who are the Gnight Gnomes?" the Varisian lady un the back of the group adds to the conversation. She has the dusky complexion of someone that's been out in the sun for extended times. Her dark reddish-brown hair, which always seems damp, is tied back from her bright green eyes with a red, orange, and turquoise kerchief, while the rest of her hair trails back to pool around her shoulders, and fall a couple inches down her back. She wears a brightly-colored vest and sashes over a fine blouse and leather leggings, using a large green and turquoise sash around the waist to act as a faux skirt. Peeking out from around her neck and sleeves, however, is some golden leather that seems protective in nature. "If they're your first choice of culprit, we should know more about them."
"Imago" Pointing to the treefolk behind them, they add, "Brethí."
Balentiir points at himself as he elucidates. “VENT-ure CAP-tin. BOSS. YOU do WHAT I say.”
The VC purses his lips in concern as he glances between Imago and Brethí. “And not sure if you’re aware, Old Bean. But you appear to have sticks growing out of your head.”
”I suspect any questions I have would be best answered by Semru.”
“Quite. Thank-you, my dear. That would be most appreciated …”
Venture captain, has there been any reports of attacks at the dig site?
Balentiir sighs. “There have not. Only on the caravans.”
How many attacks have happened and have there been survivors?
“Half a dozen. No survivors.”
He makes a knowing glance at Dolamite. “And I can all-but guarantee there will be more, if help doesn’t arrive there soon.”
And why are the caravans leaving so near night that they are still near the dig site when attacked. Does the heat of the sun during the day preclude travel?
“It does. However …”
VC Balentiir considers this question for some time. “You imply that if the caravans left in the pre-dawn cool, rather than at dusk they would not be attacked.”
“Hmm ... Delaying the caravans by twelve hours would be hideously expensive, but still cheaper than losing the entire shipment.”
“You may put that to Semru if you wish, but I would still strongly favor dealing with the problem at the root, rather than managing the symptoms.”
"Who are the Gnight Gnomes?"
VC Balentiir looks most pleased with Lissa. “Oh, what a good question! If only more agents were as astute as you.”
He continues, “Gnight Gnomes are more a ‘What’ than a ‘Whom.’”
“Silent and wary, they remain one of the most reclusive and culinary-adept races of Nar-Voth, inhabiting the cities of Fellstrok, Hägëgräf, and Diepkamer beneath the continent of Avistan. They effectively control the longest and widest tunnel system in Nar-Voth, known as the Long Walk, which is a jealously guarded trade route.”
“Having given themselves freely to the Demon Lady Nocticula, it is not surprising that their society is violent, though filled with much singing and dancing. They train bugbears and other goblinoids to serve as mounts and guards, and are among the greatest thespians in the Darklands!”
“Now, is there anything else?”
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Unhappy with the venture captains sudden insulting demeanor, Dolomite is blunt I have asked you instead of Semru because I believe it possible that your dig site leader could be in league with the raiders. Consider the facts. Your agent there continues to send out caravans at night and continues to loose them 6 times in a row. Is this person incapable of learning? Add to this that the dig site itself has not been attacked even though all attacks have been close to the dig site. Certainly someone there could be a spy for the raiders, if Semru is not in league with them. To send out caravan after caravan, each being lost the first night out, with such loss of life speaks of incompetence or worse. How is Semru still in charge?
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Towards the end of the briefing, a tall cloaked figure reveals himself, stepping from a shadowy corner, pulling back his hood to reveal a face with sharp Elven features, bowing, saying, "Ingrge, at your service...excuse me, m'Lord, one more question. You mentioned these gnight gnomes being from the Darklands, worshipping demons...there also be other residents there that do the same. Have there been any sightings of pale-skinned humanoids, in these attacks?"
“There have not, Agent Ingrge. But again, the raiders left no survivors.”
Balentiir attempts a more patient tack with Dolamite. “The attacks have occurred within a very short space of time. Once he realized he was out of his depth, Semru swallowed his pride and asked for help. That’s you.”
“Semru is an experienced Osirianologist and all-round good chap. I suspect he is doing his best under trying circumstances.”
“In the unlikely event something has managed to turn him or one of his employees, you’re not going to find evidence of it from here.”
“The Valley of the Pyramids is a good two day camel ride to the south. I’d recommend picking up any supplies you need in Sothis before you leave. There is no chance Semru will be able to supply the kinds of items professional gnome-hunters might need.”
VC Balentiir then pulls two letters out his desk drawer and passes them over to you. “Your respective faction heads have seen fit to provide you with a secondary mission.”
“I remind you, Pathfinders NOT to let faction politics get in the way of completing the primary mission. Nobody will thank you if Ol’ Mutton Chops has a new bauble to impress the Paracountess with, if our most important expedition in Osirion gets abandoned. Dig?”
“While we have a bunch of spirited personalities in this group, in the spirit of tolerance fostered by the Decemvirate, I would ask you to keep an open mind as you track down and slay the gnome culprits.”
Sandswept Hall’s Master rises to wish you “Good luck and Gozrehn Speed.”
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It seems we will all be traveling together. I have studied some history of this area and can share what little I recall. During Osirion's Age of the Black Sphinx, the ancient empire was ruled by a union of four god-kings known as the Four Pharaohs of Ascension. Each the head of four competing dynasties, they joined forces in -1498 AR for mysterious reasons, leading to Osirion's Second Golden Age. I am unsure if this will be useful or not but did not want withhold this knowledge.
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During the travel Dolomite will try to make friends with everyone and even offers to teach his katas to any who are interested. He sees well in the dark and offers to take his watch while it is totally dark.
Early the first morning out, before spells would be prepared he approaches Tessara offering her ca cup of tea and a pearl. He humbly asks If you are willing would you please use this pearl of power to recall your mage armor spell each day after casting it on yourself to also cast it upon me? I also would like you to carry this wand of mage armor to use on either of us if the need arises, and on the rest of the party should we face bodyless undead.
As you Pathfinders get to know each other better, the mild weather holds while the group journeys steadily south.
By mid-morning of the third day, Ingrge is visited by a small, swift bird-of-prey, which is careful to remain outside of bow range as it takes the party’s measure.
Half an hour later you reach the Society's expedition site amongst the enormous tombstones and pyramids that give the valley its name.
The dig team visibly relax when one of them spots Lissa’s wayfinder, and you are directed with warm smiles and pats on the back to a large central tent, where you are informed Pathfinder Delver Semru has retreated from the heat for a short tea break.
“Welcome, Gnome Hunters!” is the middle-aged Garundi man’s greeting, as he offers you a cushion on the floor and a cup of steaming black tea.
“Though most Taldans I know are fools, their custom of drinking tea on a hot day though unintuitive, works surprisingly well at conquering the heat.”
His eyes glitter with excitement. “I have new information since you left Sandswept Hall! I have just deciphered a carving that indicates the Bent Pyramid has a counterpart buried underground, tied to an unknown energy source.”
“Did VC Balentiir mention the engineer-wizard Aram-Hul? My current theory is he convinced the local inhabitants long ago to swear fealty to him and offer him tribute in exchange for protecting them from rival tribes.”
“Whomever has been stealing the artifacts from our caravans knows where this second pyramid is—quite possibly within the upper Darklands. We simply cannot allow a rival to control such an important strategic site.”
He grins. “And that’s of course where you come in! My dig team managed to follow a faint trail leading from the last caravan attack two nights ago to an abandoned quarry close enough to have supplied stone for the Bent Pyramid’s construction.”
Semru looks up earnestly. “Might I suggest you begin your hunt there?”
“Are there any questions?”
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Dolamite considers quizzing Semru further about the loss of caravans then decides this is above his pay grade and instead focuses on the new information. The tracks on this trail, where they of small or medium creatures? he asks.
To his group he notes We have not fought together so I know not your strengths and tactics. I have left some spell slots open that I would fill before we depart. I can prepare a second invisibility purge or I can prepare a communal Delay Poison. It would be better if one of you higher level casters could cast the communal Delay Poison instead as it would last longer. Is anyone capable of casting that. If not does someone have a lesser rod of extend to lend me when I cast that spell?
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”I only have one extend Metamagic Rod, and I’m afraid I will need all of its uses for casting mage armor on both you and myself and also for a casting of False Life on myself. Maybe someone else will have one to use…” Tess explains to the oread.
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Tess quietly asks Smeru about his workers. ”Do you trust all your crew? It seems convenient for the attackers to know exactly where everyone would be and what they would be carrying. You might have a traitor in your group.”
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Lissa quietly follows the pair of trackers until the talk of magic begins. "Actually, if we're going into the Darklands, may I suggest something that can counter magical darkness? I've ran into a few too many underdwellers that like to blot out light," She adds into the conversation, "And I'm pretty sure that my ioun torch won't be enough for that for me at least."
The tracks on this trail, where they of small or medium creatures?
“Medium I believe.”
Semru pours tea for everyone, and then stirs his own cuppa deep in thought. “Gnomes can grow to ENORMOUS proportions in the Darklands you know.”
”Do you trust all your crew? It seems convenient for the attackers to know exactly where everyone would be and what they would be carrying. You might have a traitor in your group.”
“I suppose it’s possible, missus.”
Semru doesn’t look convinced. “But I’ve ventured with all the other ex-pat scribblers and bone-hounds on other digs with no problems. True, they prolly weren’t as lucrative as this one is, but they weren’t exactly nuthin' either.”
“As for the locals, this place is so small that not only does everyone know each other — they’re all related to each other! So when a teamster or packer gets murdered during a raid, everyone in the community loses a family member.”
The Veteran Pathfinder shakes his head. “Nah, I think the folks what did this come from deep underground.”
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Lissa quietly follows the pair of trackers until the talk of magic begins. "Actually, if we're going into the Darklands, may I suggest something that can counter magical darkness? I've ran into a few too many underdwellers that like to blot out light," She adds into the conversation, "And I'm pretty sure that my ioun torch won't be enough for that for me at least."
While I fear poisons as well if we delve into the true darklands, light may be even a bigger issue. I believe Irori will indeed grant my request for a daylight spell. Well reasoned Lissa.
Semru eventually puts down his teacup and leads the others outside where he shades his eyes and points out the Bent Pyramid, not too far off in the distance.
“Head directly for it and you’ll stumble across the pile of rocks that comprises the old quarry. Good hunting and may a thirsty camel never find your Crystalhue booze supply, Pathfinders.”
Seven miles later the rubble left over from the construction of the Bent Pyramid becomes evident. Shortly afterwards, a reconnoitring Gurkagh discovers the underground entrance to some kind of cavern close to the faint trail the investigating dig crew followed.
Though the trail outside the cavern has been disturbed by members of the dig team, there is enough soft sand at the cave entrance to hold a few decent tracks.
The exact number of creatures is impossible to determine, as it looks like whoever made these tracks has passed this way several times.
Could Pathfinder leadership be mistaken about the ancestry of the humanoids who made them?
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Gurkagh nods slowly in understanding. "Gurkagh say Gurkagh knows gnomes, and gnomes never bad guys. They too silly." He plunges a hand into the large canvas sack he carries and pulls out the first thing he finds, which turns out to be an iron pot. "Gurkagh say, hey spirits, Gurkagh not an owl!" The pot begins to glow with soft light like a torch, and without further ado, the kellid hops down into the cave entrance.
As Gurkagh leads the party into the tunnel, the view back towards the entrance may re-kindle the spirit of underground exploration you experienced as a rookie Pathfinder years ago.
The broad tunnel slowly bears west as it moves deeper into the golarion, where the temperature reaches a comfortable coolness. Here and there small patches of crystals, and sporadic mineral-encrusted pools are surrounded by patches of mushrooms, some of them glowing faintly. The tunnel has a few side passages, but they all end in collapses or dead ends after no more than 40 feet, leaving a relatively obvious path to follow.
After about two hours of travel, the tunnel approaches a broad cavernous opening paved in limestone and lined with walls of venerable hieroglyphics.
Translation of the Ancient Osiriani writing is rendered virtually impossible by the amount of eroded or missing characters. However, one particular pictograph seems to have been added much more recently than the bulk of the writing.
The Abyssal archmage is NOT a part of the Ancient Osiriani pantheon.
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Know. Dungeoneering
Know. Planes
As the group enters the tunnels, Tess takes out her extend wand and casts mage armor on herself and on the press, using the pearl of power. She then casts Extended false life on herself.
”This entrance tunnel is a new addition. Seems like it was created from the inside out just a few months ago…”
Once Dolamite ushers the party through the entrance, the true scale of the chamber is revealed.
An empty limestone throne stands on a raised dais in the west. Before it, hawk or falcon symbols have had their talons replaced by crude drawings of snakes, before being splashed with bodily humors(?)
Four anthropomorphic falcon statues standing against the northern wall have been similarly vandalized to appear more like roosters wearing the crowns of the ancient rulers of Upper and Lower Osirion.
Egress from this chamber is achieved by pushing aside the enormous limestone door situated behind the empty winged throne.
The raised limestone throne is empty.
Despite a thorough search, Ingrge finds no traps or other items of interest.
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While the others attempt to open the door, Lissa takes a slightly different approach. She stands back a bit, and begins to call water to her hands, before skimming the liquid off of the floor in an attempt to wash away the intentional insult that the desecrators left behind. Maybe cleaning it will give a better clue.