Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin sends for you to attend a meeting at Skyreach in Absolom. His message requesting assistance is cryptic, hinting at a dangerous mission into Geb, the domain of the dead.
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Khorshid is a small, frail and weak male gnome.
He is sitting on a military saddle on top of a riding dog that looks like a wolfhound. It is clear that this dog can fight while carrying a rider and the gnome is only slightly in control.
"I am Khorshid. May the order of things give us the opportunity to rise and shape the world. Our strength will be important!" he says with a strange smile.
He salutes you all with a slightly charming nod.
He has purple and gray hair that sometimes illuminates his surroundings. You can see that early signs of The Bleaching have manifested in him with a blanching of skin, hair, and eye color.
He is wearing fashionable noble's outfit designed specifically to be expensive and gaudy, letting everyone know exactly how expensive they are.
Precious metals and gems are worked into the clothing, along with elaborate embroidery. He also wears a signet ring and jewelry to accessorize this outfit together with well groomed eyebrows and a long mustache.
The unholy symbol of Asmodeus is hanging on a fine chain around his neck.
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As the teaming masses of citizen walk about the streets leading towards Skyreach many move aside as a rather large and imposing figure walks the lane. It is clear to all who see this individual has traveled far; from the mud caked along their boots to the dirt, blood and viscera smeared across their cloak.
Pulling back the hood of their cloak Lancyn stares up at the looming Spire nearly bursting with lore moving his view down to the complex surrounding Skyreach he lets out a remark "Valsin you old dog, where you planning on sending me this time? The Worldwound was quite a quaint little vacation destination."
Taking in one last glimpse of his home away from home the Paladin enters the spire looking at the summons from Valsin to confirm which meeting room. Upon entry Lancyn moves with a grace that almost defies his apparel choices. Although dented, dinged, scrapped and repairs to what would have been a mortal chest wound his armor lets out nary a creak as he walks over to a chair to take a seat.
Returning the salute given by Khorshid letting out "Well met Khorshid it is a pleasure. I am Lancyn Pendragon Paladin of Iomedae, protector to those in need and hunter of the undead." eyeing the symbol of Asmodeus hanging around the gnomes neck, "Ahh the The Archstar correct. Another fellow of faith," pausing to taking a seat at the table, placing both of his still sheathed longswords he carries down in front of him as a show of non-hostility he continues "although our pledged divinities have differing dogma and edicts I do hope you an I can work together for the betterment of the Society." Lancyn begins mumbling to himself reciting what any listening to be a current list of supplies and those he made need to purchase.
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The gnome is clearly surprised to see the Paladin.
“Well, I’m glad that you are so agreeable. Not many of your … profession seem to be reasonable. I think we can cooperate! Asmodeus believes that the strong should rightfully govern the weak, who in turn owe their masters unwavering obedience. I am obedient to the venture-captains but I’ll grow strong Lancyn Pendragon!! Maybe one day … I’ll be your superior?!?“ he says with a strange smile.
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Lancyn gives the gnome a genuine smile and chuckles "Yes, yes you are quite right. Most within my profession tend to be zealots or extremists." relaxing a bit in the chair the man of faith pulls out a rag with some oil and begins to unsheathe his swords in order to properly clean them since they are covered in all manner of detritus. " You see I do not follow the Sword-Mistress blindly. Her teachings and faiths give praise to those, like myself, grow accepting of others and their faith to a degree. Although I too may regard you with caution, much like milady does to your lord of Hell, should you remain advisory instead of dictatory, ohh and not commit heinous acts we shall do well together. And Yes should you find yourself in a position of note like our Master Ambrus or even the Decemvirate I will follow your orders.
A booming voice calls out from the wood-paneled office’s open doorway. “Welcome! Welcome my friends! Please. Have a seat.” The speaker, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin, points to a number of chairs around his desk. He sounds friendly, but his smile seems forced.
“I’m not one for beating around the bush, so let me lay it out for you. Three weeks ago, we lost contact with an expedition of Pathfinders sent into Geb, led by a researcher from Absalom named Joktan Heth. He and the other members of his group were magically disguised as undead creatures and tasked with recovering an ancient tome known as the Testament of Geb, purported to be a scholarly treatise on the creation of new types of undead—intended specifically for use on the battlefield. Joktan’s mission was to sneak into the country, locate the Testament, and bring it back to the Vaults. He’s overdue and we fear the worst.”
”We need you to undergo the same process of disguise, infiltrate Geb, and learn the whereabouts of Joktan, his team, and most of all, the Testament. Pathfinders, time is of the essence. If that book falls into the wrong hands, it could destabilize the entire Inner Sea region. We need that book and we have the utmost faith that you’ll do what’s necessary to make sure we get it.”
“Any questions?”
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An elderly wizard dressed in the traditional robes of his chosen pursuit, complete with pointed hat, bursts into his room. A frown is evident on his face even from beneath his flowing white beard.
"What manner of meeting could be so material? What designated discussion so dire? What critical conclave so compelling that it would require I, Golthwur Strath, Master of Magic, Composer of Conjurations, Auteur of the Arcane, to be summoned from his studies and drawn from his deliberations?" he demands as he brushes past the assembled Pathfinders and makes his way towards Valsin's office.
”We need you to undergo the same process of disguise, infiltrate Geb, and learn the whereabouts of Joktan, his team, and most of all, the Testament. Pathfinders, time is of the essence. If that book falls into the wrong hands, it could destabilize the entire Inner Sea region. We need that book and we have the utmost faith that you’ll do what’s necessary to make sure we get it.”
“Any questions?”
Golthwur looks quite pleased. "An investigation in intrigue, eh?" he ponders as he strokes his beard. "Well, of course, a magical disguise would be required to deceive the deceased and pass by the passed. I must know more of this process? How did you come to learn of it? It is reversible, I assume--should we choose not to loiter as liches? Though, we could, if we so chose, no? Can the process be repeated? Could those wielding this process manipulate negative energy in other ways?"
The wizard's eyes almost glaze over as he seems to consider the possibilities of such power. Suddenly, a look of concern over takes him. "But, is it wise to trust such mystical methods with mundanes?" He look at the remainder of the party with skepticism.
of death, often conduct raids into the country in an attempt to destabilize it, to destroy unholy sites, and eliminate the undead abominations that call Geb home.
Ambrus Valsin sighs at Golthwur and shakes his head, although you're not sure if it's due to the wizard or the subject matter. "Honestly, I'm not very comfortable with the manner of it myself, but..."
"The Society has in its possession an item known at the Chalice of Undeath. When used, it gives a creature the semblance of undeath, while the creature remains alive and maintains full control of its soul. Our experiments here show that until the process is reversed—by drinking from the Chalice again—you will have the semblance and aura of an undead, but not be affected by magic specifically targets undead. Be warned that healing magic that affects living creatures will hurt you while you are in this state, just as it would any true undead."
He gets an uneasy look on his face. "It's a disturbing ritual, but one that has been deemed safe, at least for what it does. Joktan was the one that pioneered the research and tested it himself."
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"Geb , of course, is a nation ruled by the undead," Golthwur instructs the gnome, impatiently. "There, intelligent undead have the same rights as the living. Perhaps, even more. No doubt due to their expendability, the kingdom uses other undead for labor and as renewable source of soldiers in the country’s armies. Alas, because of the nation’s dependence and promotion of undeath, the faithful of Pharasma, goddess of death, often conduct raids into the country in an attempt to destabilize it, to destroy unholy sites, and eliminate the undead that call Geb home."
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"What a vile place, where the bourgeois feasts upon and exploits the labor of the proletariat at the same time."
Tath, hearing Ambrus Valsin's warning, knows that staying alive under the effects of this chalice will be difficult. "Will we have a chance to get supplies before setting off for Geb?"
"Geb is an entire country. Do we have his last location or where he was hoping to start his search at least?"
Ambrus motions towards Golthwur and nods at his summary of the country of Geb. "Joktan Heth is a student a history, specializing in the war between Geb and Nex and the history of necromancy and undeath. He joined the Pathfinder Society early in his career and worked in the Vault helping catalog various artifacts and magical items. He discovered the Chalice of Undeath in the Repository and petitioned the Decemvirate to allow him to use its powers to travel into Geb in order to find the legendary Testament of Geb."
"As I said, we've had no word from him, which is why we need to send you to see what's happened."
"The Society will teleport you to an isolated position in northcentral Geb, near the city of Graydirge but not near enough that anyone should see you suddenly arrive. From there you will need to head toward Corpselight, a small farming town to the east of the city. Joktan was convinced the Testament of Geb was there and that’s where any clues as to his fate will be probably found. Once your mission is completed, send word via this magic token and we will have you teleported back to Skyreach." He slides a non-descript metallic disk over on the table.
"I have a few supplies that will help your...unique state: moderate potions of inflict wounds, which should serve as healing potions for you. But yes, feel free to stock up on what else you may need."
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There's a light knock on the door to Valsin's office, followed by a small halfling in a red suit jacket and pencil skirt sticking her head into the room. Her bright red hair that rivals her clothes in intensity of color is done up in a severe bun. "Venture-Captain, you called for me? Apologies for the wait, I was in the depths of the archives fixing a 50 year old filing mistake."
Taking a look around the room, she gives a small frown. "Right, this is not about the Grangla File, I take it? You need me to audit another mission, and keep an eye on erstwhile Golthwur, I would assume. Where are we going this time?"
After a few moments to catch up, she gives a small shake of her head. "Of all the places to go I was not expecting Geb. Surprisingly enough I was just handling the files we have about the 'quick' as the living are called in Geb. It's good we will be disguising ourselves as undead, the quick are given extra scrutiny and often conscripted to armies or even eaten unless they have clearly aligned themselves with a faction. We should also take care as positive energy spells are strictly banned in the country."
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“I think that this will be an incredible experience!! I have heard of bone devils that seem to be undead but are of course servants of the lords of hell!! I am looking forward to experiencing this ritual … fantastic!! But it’s not about the research of this Heth … it’s about him?! I mean one Pathfinder … is it really worth risking all our lives? Or can we learn more secrets by getting him back?!? I’m more talking about probabilities here. He’s probably dead to be honest. But maybe we find research on him nonetheless? Ahh, I can understand why you want to send us. I mean you are a venture captain so YOU HAVE TO BE RIGHT!!“ the gnome with purple hair asks openly and continues his bootlicking.
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Looking at the gnome and thinking about how best to respond to their question on peculiar paladin's particular predisposition to others of faith. Hoping to allay the gnomes interest in order to help stave off the bleaching for just a bit longer Lancyn states "You could say my 'story' of faith began as a prologue when my mother found this whilst she was carrying me in her womb, lifting one of the Longswords from the table he un sheathes it to shows a sword of almost divine beauty as it glistens in the light of the room. The sword itself appears similar to the Holy symbol of Iomedae clearly visible in the design hilt to tip. "as my mum said I must have been chosen by Iomedae herself. Through my own trials growing up a Varisian nomad like my family before me I have learned to be accepting of all; so long as they are not attempting to control another through fear, bloodshed, or breaking laws of the nation.
Sitting quietly at the table listening to everyone speak in turn. Speaking from the shadows offered by the hood he wears Lancyn utters out with an almost hollow sound. "I can confirm everything that is being said round this table today." looking over at the quite knowledgeable and clearly capable halfling secretary. "You have stated the worst of it most clearly. For those like myself who are granted power by our deity in order to uphold their will it can be difficult to do so in a region where their use is outlawed. Clearing his throat the Paladin continues. "However this is not to say I am not up for a challenge such as this my only question is of you Master Valsin. Does this Chalice of Undeath also provide protections from detection of ones moral compass as well as shield their aura from being seen by others?"
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Ambrus smiles at Angela. "Ah, good. I'm glad you could make it, Angela. Yes, this one is a bit different." He glances at Golthwur and then clears his throat. "But who better to help secure a dangerous artifact and find a lost Pathfinder? Something tells me the reports will be tricky to write regardless. Just don't get eaten, my dear."
The Venture-Captain turns a serious face to Aatish. "We value all of those in the Society, and Heth was leading a small team of researchers. It's important to try and recover anyone." He sighs. "But the real concern is the Testament of Geb. If Heth is right, the Testament is a book or scroll written by the infamous wizard-king Geb before he joined the ranks of the undead who served him. Not only does it discuss in depth a number of different types of undead, their creation, and their weaknesses, but it also includes formulae for constructing devastating undead weapons of war."
Ambrus frowns at Lancyn's question. "I don't think it does. Hmm, a considerable oversight. You'll either need some magical help there or try to avoid situations where it might be detected."
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Angela cocks an eyebrow at the glance at Golthwur, getting the whole meaning of everything left unsaid there. "Right, the reports for this would be a... real challenge."
She then turns to Lancyn, "If you prefer I can see about just adding the spell to my formula book and preparing an infusion of that each day. Or you can buy a potion and I can give you an infusion of Alchemical Allocation instead so you don't have to use the potion."
The Venture-Captain looks around the room. "Now, are we all prepared for this? I can take you to Tethis who will conduct the ritual and monitor the transformation. I'll make sure the supplies are brought in too. Any further questions?"
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Lancyn returns Angela's gaze, "I would never impose directly like that but I would greatly appreciate it. I believe I still have some prestige with the Society floating around that I might be able to grab a potion or two from the quartermaster with." nodding appreciatively Lancyn looks to Ambrus. "I assume the Quartermaster is also the one whom we may swap our current magical healing items with for the comparable inflicting variety?
"I have no further questions. Once I have my gear sorted I will be ready for this transformation and subsequent teleportation... bucket in hand." Lancyn appears to turn a shade of grey at the thought of teleportation... again.
Ambrus nods. "Good. See the Quartermaster and then come back. I will have Tethis set up for the ritual and guide you through it. Then you'll be off to Geb. Good journey." The last is said in a perfunctory manner, even though he knows this is quite the mission.
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When you return for the ritual, a gnome is waiting and guides the group into a special chamber. There a chalice sits on a table. It is carved out of a large animal bone and is engraved with symbols of life and death.
Tethis explains. "This is the Chalice of Undeath. It's simple really. Just drink from it and your body will be transformed into an undead form." He snaps his fingers and an assistant fills the Chalice with watered wine. "Something a bit sweet for you at least."
"Now who's ready?"
Aatish drinks from the chalice. Over the next few seconds the changes begin.
The rest of the party line up to drink from it as well.
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Angela waits last to drink, hoping that everyone will have finished the wine off before her, and asking whoever is second to last to finish it off if they will. She then pulls out a small vial with a very clearly written label of:
'Cure Light Wounds'
'infusion'
*For emergency use only*
And dumps it into the chalice. "Might be worth a try. I can't create a new extract with this vial until it's emptied in the first place."
She then drinks.
When Angela pours the infusion into the Chalice it fizzes and bubbles, though it doesn't actually seem to be doing either any harm. As she drinks it, it starts off with the normal warm flavor of the infusion, but as it goes down, it begins to burn her throat and she can actually feel the liquid sitting like a rock in her stomach after a few moment.
After several seconds of drinking, everyone begins to notice their teeth getting longer and sharper. You look down at your hands and you see your skin taking on a grey, pallid color. It also stretches back and tight, revealing wickedly sharp claws. Most of all, however, there's the hunger. It feels like you haven't eaten in weeks and it just won't stop. There's no desire to kill anyone, but hunger is constant.
Tethis takes an involuntary step back from you all. A stray thought about how tasty gnomes could be flits across your mind.
Tethis shouts to one of the assistants. "Ok, give them the satchel of potions!" A young assistant, his face pale in fear, gets shoved forward and he holds out a small bag filled with 8 potions of moderate inflict wounds.
The gnome waves him away afterward and begins a teleportation spell. Runes light up around you and you realize you are standing in the middle of a circle. But just then your vision shifts...
The world materializes into a hazy swamp, the few plants within as dry and colorless as one would expect in a nation ruled and inhabited by the undead. Ghostly pale moonlight provides illumination and a mournful wind blows slowly from the south, carrying with it the unmistakable sickly sweet scent of long-dead flesh mixed with newly spilt blood. Only the sound of rustling brush breaks the tomb-like silence.
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As the teleportation spell comes to an end Lancyn drops to his knees and empties the contents of his stomach into the swamp. "Ugh, I never liked teleportation. Always feel like I'm going to come out with a piece of me missing." getting a feel for his surroundings Lancyn takes a look around and listens for anything more than the rustling going on.
Additionally using his innate detection abilities he looks to the cardinal points and Detects Evil only lingering if he gets a ping of anything within 60 feet.
The swamp here, while wet and uncomfortable even to cold and clammy undead skin, never reaches a depth of more than 1-1/2 feet, and then only rarely.
While he's retching, Lancyn fails to hear what the rest of the group does: The sound of chanting and marching feet slogging through the muck. The sounds appear to be coming from the north, but you don't know how far off they are.
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For the gnome this is the first teleportation experience and he also feels a little sick but he definitely does not want to show it.
"Oh ... ehh ... no ..I mean yes. No problem at all!" he says and tries to orient himself.
"Is it really going to be so hard to find our friend? I mean this area is huge! So what is the plan team? We need a plan!" Khorshid says.
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"Hmmm, not quite what I expected," notes Golthwur as he partakes of the chalice. As he changes, he looks for a reflective surface in which to admire his new form.
"I had assumed that immortality would be... more satisfying. Not to mention warmer."
"Ugh, I never liked teleportation. Always feel like I'm going to come out with a piece of me missing." getting a feel for his surroundings Lancyn takes a look around and listens for anything more than the rustling going on.
"Understandable. Magic is best left for those with the capability to wield it, while the mundane should simply stick with using their feet." opines the wizard.
"Is it really going to be so hard to find our friend? I mean this area is huge! So what is the plan team? We need a plan!" Khorshid says.
"More mundane thinking!" decries Golthwur. "We are among the undead, now. Our forms are nigh eternal. We have years, nay, centuries, perhaps millenia, in which to find the missing. No longer are we hindered by the restraints of fatigue, backpains, or arthritis!"
"Undeath has freed us from the chains of time! There is no need for us to rush about for we can cover the expanse of this nation many times over, study entire libraries of magical tomes, conduct interplanar experiments to our lifeless hearts content, and still have an eternity before us!"
The chanting and marching sounds continue to come from the north and it sounds like they are getting closer. Angela and Khorshid hear some harsh shouting occasionally over the chanting.
You move off to the north to meet the sounds. As you crest a small incline, you see several undead moving across the swampy countryside. The leader, a desiccated corpse with wrappings, spots you. It calls a halt to the more skeletal dredges that it's leading, then points at you.
A raspy voice like tearing paper calls out. "You there! Front and center! What are you doing wandering about? Can you even understand me or are you just some windless troublemakers roaming about?"
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"Yes, certainly. Why not?" shrugs the now ghoulish Golthwur before he follows the gnow gnon-living gnome gnorthward.
Khorshid is almost surprised as Golthwur made him feel a little uneasy with his powerful appearance and behavior.
"Ahh, I thought that this would be 'mundane' as well?? But now you show that you can follow commands!!" he says with a shocked face.
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Khorshid is usually the bold one but this time he is more careful.
A raspy voice like tearing paper calls out. "You there! Front and center! What are you doing wandering about? Can you even understand me or are you just some windless troublemakers roaming about?"
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Shambling up to the forefront of the party the Paladin looks over to the Bandaged leader of the other group. "Indeed we are not mindless. Though some could consider those with a mind and a stick could be considered 'troublemakers'." giving a sidelong glance to the man with a stick Lancyn turns back "Though you need not worry as we will follow the laws and customs. We are new to Geb as we have only recently found ourselves to be counted amongst the undead. In the attempts to better understand our environs we found ourselves out here in the swamp lands making our way over to Graydirge."
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Khorshid is almost surprised as Golthwur made him feel a little uneasy with his powerful appearance and behavior.
"Ahh, I thought that this would be 'mundane' as well?? But now you show that you can follow commands!!" he says with a shocked face.
"Take gnote gnome! I, Golthwur Strath, Notable Among Necromancers, Upright Among Undead, and Greatest Among Ghouls, neither obeys ordinary orders nor kowtows to common commands!" The wizard tries to show, raising his voice as usual, but finds the effort rather difficult in the absence of working lungs. As the others begin walking away, he decides to forego another attempt and to quietly try to keep pace behind them.
"Behold! For, we are indeed undead. Surely, you would not expect a band of breathers bandying about these badlands! Why, if there were any inhalers in our midst they would be ingested instantly, I assure you," interjects the wizard, hoping he sounds convincing.
"Yet, though we are recent arrivals to this land, treat us not as if we were some poor, newly-deads hoping to partake is some necromantic get-away," he continues needlessly. "Far from it! For my death was not the result of some simple accident or misbegotten turn of fate. Nay, I am deceased by design. I've passed on purpose. Mine was an excogitated expiration! As such, my mastery of magic has made me more lich-like than most of the lifeless, more potently-powered than most of the perished, and more certainly sorcerical than most slain."
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Muy Tath stares daggers into Golthwur. He daydreams momentarily about running the wizard through with his naginata. It'd be so easy. And the Society wouldn't have to know. Geb was a dangerous place.
"We have our own business to attend to. We mean no insult, but we desire to get to Greydirge without delay. Our... patron would not happy if we were held up, and that is one hornet's nest that is better left alone."
The creature looks at Golthwur and then back and forth at Tath and Lancyn. He shrugs and waves his hand dismissively. "Bah! Move along then. I'm late as it is getting these mindless to the ranks. If you keep wandering the countryside, you're going to get press-ganged." He shoves one of the skeletons forward and the group begins moving again. "Weird proto-liches..."
You watch the group march off and then head east towards Corpselight. It's several hours travel and by the time you see a small farming community up ahead, it's nearly sunset.
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Intrigued by Aatish's question Lancyn begins speaking more to himself rather than answering the gnome's question "Proto is a combining form meaning “first,” “foremost,” “earliest form of,” used in the formation of compound words. Proto comes from the Ancient Azlanti prôtos, meaning 'first.' When placed in conjunction with Lich I believe they were referring to us prototype lich in a derogatory sense of the word or rather meaning the first type of lich that had not undergone full evolution. But is there really an evolutionary line to a lich...." Lancyn begins mubling to himself further about the root meaning of the word and if it might have other meanings in other languages as he continues along towards Corpselight with the party.