An adventure for characters of levels 1-5. Will begin on May 27, 2022.
You are called to an emergency meeting in the Grand Lodge in the middle of the night.
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Syco walks into the Grand Lodge with a quick pace. He likes being back in Absalom after his adventure in the freezing lands of Irrisen, mostly the fact that he can talk without the chattering of his teeth again.
His steps are long and fast, it's not usual you get called for an emergency meeting, at least for one of his rank—a low one. He is a bit tense, he wonders what's so important to require a call in the middle of the night, and why they chose him.
Venture-Captain Drandle Drang looks tired as he calls an emergency meeting in the middle of night at his chambers in the Grand Lodge. “I’m sorry to call you in on such short notice and on such a dark night, but a friend of the Society needs your help immediately.” From an adjoining chamber, an elegantly dressed woman of middle age with olive skin and long, straight black hair and piercing eyes steps into the room. B]“Allow me to introduce to you Hamaria Blakros, of the esteemed Blakros family, whose name I’m sure you all know.”[/b]
Hamaria sits at Dreng’s side, smooths her satin dress over her knees, and speaks in a clear though pained voice. “I’m afraid my forebears made a terrible mistake, and I need you to help remedy the situation. When the Blakroses were first gaining a financial and social foothold centuries ago, my ancestors made a pact called the Penumbral Accords with a strange organization on the Shadow Plane called the Onyx Alliance, which granted us trade routes through its dark realm to avoid unpleasant searches, tariffs, and questions among the many parties with whom we traded. At the time, this was an invaluable service, but as our wealth and influence grew, the benefits became less pronounced. Now, almost five centuries later, we no longer want to pay the ongoing price of this agreement. Since that time, we’ve been providing a steady stream of slaves to the Onyx Alliance... including the eldest of our daughters each generation. This year we have two eldest daughters—my twins Eleanir and Michellia—and I refuse to let them be taken!
“But we can’t actively break the Penumbral Accords ourselves. We don’t know all the details other than our end of the bargain, which requires us to deliver slaves to our very own Blakros Museum on the night of each new moon—and to deliver the eldest Blackros daughter of each generation on the new moon after her 21st birthday. We are told to stay away until dawn, and have honored this command thus far. In every instance for generations, we’ve returned to find no sign of the slaves or our own heirs left in the building. They’ve got some device that lets them take our daughters to their plane, something that only functions one night a month, and only until dawn. That night is tonight, and my Eleanir and Michellia are already there! I need you to get in before the sun rises and deactivate or destroy whatever allows them to keep stealing our people. If that prevents them from ever threatening us and holding the Penumbral Accords over our heads again, even better.”
Dreng leans forward. “You understand, I’m sure, how valuable our relationship with the Blakros family is to the Decemvirate. Their assets at the museum are immense, and assisting the Lady Hamaria tonight will go a long way to ensuring that both her family and our organization can form a long-lasting alliance that will benefit all parties.” He glances at Hamaria, who nods once in agreement. “Hurry to Blakros Museum, friends. There isn’t much time!”
Knowledge (History)
Knowledge (Local) or Diplomacy
You are sent with all haste to the Blakros Museum.
Great pillars of hewn black stone support the vaulted ceiling of the Blakros Museum’s grand entryway, visible through its wide, double doors. Braziers mounted on the pillars cast white radiance from balls of continual light. A fossilized dinosaur skeleton occupies the northwest corner of the room.
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"They what?!?" Rocko blurts when Dreng gets to the nitty gritty of the deal the Blakros family had made. "They trade away their own daughters? I mean, sure, we've got to try to save those poor girls, but this family has got to be stopped! They're a nightmare!" The rough and burly oread looks to to the owlbear standing beside him. "Walfredo, I was looking forward to showing you some of your own history--this museum has to have a wing covering the magical experimentation the resulted in owlbears... but man, my heart's just not in it now. There's real serious work to be done."
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A half-orc dashes up before the Pathfinders enter the museum. "Rocko! It's gotta be you, right? They said an oread with an owlbear. Well, you're not going to miss that, are you?" The man laughs at the strange pair, before huddling up with Rocko.
They mutter amongst themselves. The half-heard conversation and body language make it clear that Rocko was needed elsewhere, or this new guy was needed here; nobody can make out the cause or reasoning, but obviously this half-orc would be joining the team. Rocko gives the Pathfinders a polite nod and starts heading back towards the Grand Lodge.
Returning to Pathfinders with a more serious demeanor, the half-orc introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Jon. Sorry about that mix-up; I'm taking over for Rocko here. Can't believe this is what we're tasked to do, though...." he says, his voice trailing off. He wears the traditional dress and markings of a Shoanti, but his relaxed and familiar demeanor are that of someone very comfortable in a metropolis like Absalom.
Upon crossing the threshold, the air ripples and all visible surfaces shimmer as if they were momentarily composed of still, reflective liquid. As soon as the effect manifests, the strange sensation ends, leaving thick shadows covering all surfaces. The white light of the braziers glows an arcane shade of blue, illuminating the shadowy form of a different skeleton that overlays the more solid dinosaur from moments ago.
A shadowy plaque on the southeast column declares the Shadow Plane version of the building to be “Wightir House, Experimental Laboratory of Onyx Alliance, Authorized by Order of Argrinyxia, the Shifting Lady of Ebony Scales.”
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A rather slight fellow with an odd hat comes hurrying up. "Sorry to be late - I had some uh business to take care of. Xivio's the name, though I try not to shout it from the rooftops - never know who might be listening..." He looks away as he says all this, as though there was perhaps something a bit shifty about whatever had detained him. Hearing the mission briefing he smiles a thin smile and mutters to himself, "The Blakros family've a pretty penny or two. Hopefully this mission will be a bit more ahem profitable than the last. Bills to pay dontcha know..."
Arriving at the museum, Xivio looks around with grave interest.
"The Shadow Plane, eh? Interesting and interestinger! This mission shows promise..."
The creature migrates to the gameplay tab just in time to be hit by a ball of force. It is a skeletal guardian made from a deinonychus corpse. It is a mindless undead that is resistant to piercing and slashing damage.
Round 1 - bolded may go!
Boney (-3 HP)
Syco
Jon Rooi
Fossorius
Oliver
Xivio
Fossorius knows that the skeletal guardian has no special traits beyond what a normal mindless undead would have, but can attack four times per round if it does not have to move more than five feet. He then thwacks it with a shovel, chipping some of its bones.
Round 1 - bolded may go!
Boney (-9 HP)
Syco
Jon Rooi
Fossorius
Oliver
Xivio
Oliver bashes the skeleton with a hammer.
Syco fires, hoping for a lucky shot.
Jon follows suit.
Both projectiles fly wide.
The skeleton splits its attention between Oliver and Fossorius.
Only the teeth make contact.
Round 2 - bolded may go!
Boney (-12 HP)
Syco
Jon Rooi
Fossorius
Oliver (-4 HP)
Xivio
Fossorius slams his shovel into the dino again, which provides just enough distraction for Xivio to sneak around and dissolve what little connective tissue remains. The bones fall to the ground unmoving.
Oliver (-4 HP)
Right
Center
The hallway has three doors, one each to the left and right close to the entry hall, and one at the very end. None of them are locked. Xivio notices that the handle to the left is colder than expected. Tarragon hears sounds of strong emotion from the right - both laughter and tears. Oliver sees a harsh, cold light from below the door at the end of the hall.
This room is filled with ancient tapestries of chromatic dragons besieging castles and battles between Dahak and Apsu at the dawn of time. An alabaster obelisk covered in Draconic runes occupies the far corner, surrounded by a spread of various dragonhides of all colors and thickness, and a taxidermied wyvern hangs from the ceiling above, its stinger flexed above its head. Umbral chains drop from the same ceiling on the Shadow Plane; gruesome hooks at the chains’ ends hold long-dead skeletons. The southern wall sports a massive wheel with shackles along its edge, apparently for holding writhing subjects in place during tests.
A pair of pale-skinned humanoids look up from the brightly-colored denizens of the material plane they are "experimenting" on.
Round 1 - bolded may go!
Tarragon
Jon
Oliver
Blue
Red
Syco
Fossorius
Xivio
Oliver leads his animal companion into battle. While the hunter lands a solid blow, the tiger's talons do not connect.
Jon fires into the room at Blue.
The bolt penetrates the creature's armor. and Blue falls to the ground.
Red rushes to the door and attacks Jon around the frame.
The blade barely misses a vital spot.
Round 1-2 - bolded may go!
Tarragon
Jon (-5 HP)
Oliver
Blue
Red
Syco
Fossorius
Xivio
These creatures are fetchlings, native outsiders with a connection to the shadow plane. You may ask two questions about them.
Fossorius smacks the remaining fetchling in the head.
Under a combined magical, mental and shovel-based onslaught, the Red minion drops his sword, saying, "This isn't worth what they are paying me. Let me go and I won't trouble you again."
You now have a surrendered prisoner who was performing torture. What do you do with her?
The fetchling interprets everyone's silence as agreement, and grabs her blade and flees the area. On the fallen fetchling's body, you find a key, 2 alchemist’s fire, masterwork black studded leather, a longsword, a sling with 10 bullets, manacles and 15 gp.
There are two doors to the east. Syco can hear a growling sound coming from behind the door to the north. Fossorius detects a strange scent and the sound of rattling chains from the door to the south, which is locked. Oliver finds an elixir of fire breath among the relics in the room.
Jon has no idea what the growling is.
Xivio finds no traps.
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"Truthfully, I'm more concerned about these people here. Can we help them before moving on?"
"Yes, we certainly should. This shadow/material overlay has me wondering what's real, but we should see these people out. I can't tell what's behind that door, but it's behind the door, and presumably will stay there unless we open it."
He approaches the figures the fetchlings were experimenting on and sees if he can free them.
Thanks to your location of a key, it is not difficult to free the prisoners. They are very grateful for their freedom and wish to leave as soon as possible. They do not have any physical wounds but are frightened and exhausted. Unfortunately, none of them can tell you anything useful, as they were bound and blindfolded when they were brought here.
Everyone in this room was alive - slaves are notoriously difficult to use otherwise, unless you are a very specific type of slaver. The implements will show the fetchlings having used them and a lot of things you probably don't want to see.
The Pathfinders open the door to find a simple room of unadorned stone piled from floor to ceiling with boxes and crates, with barely enough room
left to allow the staff to squeeze between the towers of dusty, mothballed exhibits.
There is a canine creature chained to the wall opposite. It begins barking as soon as the door is opened.
Round 1 - bolded may go!
Jon Rooi
Tarragon
Puppy
Fossorius
Xivio
Oliver
Syco
Jon and Tarragon eye the creature warily, and it seems poised to strike.
Round 1-2 - bolded may go!
Jon Rooi
Tarragon
Puppy (ready)
Fossorius
Xivio
Oliver
Syco
That is enough to determine that it is a shadow hound (a shadow mastiff with reduced HD). It is an outsider with the evil subtype. You may ask one question.