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Jayma looks on as Tess goes through her book calming routine and thanks Shyka that it isn't her. "The very idea of sharing my soul with a book of horrors. Ugh! No, thank you." She visibly shudders at the thought. When Eando identifies the destination as Arcadia, Jayma's eyes open up with surprise. "Xopatl? Arcadia? That is a very long way away." She looks back at Tess and wonders how stable the rocking and singing woman really is. As exciting as the idea was of visiting Arcadia, the thought of being stranded there was less appealing. The stories she'd heard of the harrowing Arcadian Ocean crossings as a child had made her hair stand on end.
"How should we dress?" Turiik asks Eando and the room in general as he figures Arcadia is not a desert. He idly stuffs the plant from the oasis into his belt pouch.
"Are these powers a curse or a blessing? From what K.H.W. observed the last time these powers manifested, they could be both." Eando nods to Tarcog. "If you can help the people contain their powers, I would consider that mission accomplished."
When Amvolwatt talks of swallowing a breath weapon rather than releasing it, Eando smiles at the small dragon. "You just explained it in a nutshell. I am hoping that you can get more information from the locals, and perhaps the book itself once prolonged reading no longer has the possibility of sending a random group of people halfway across Golarian."
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Tess pauses in her singing to respond to Dr. Lazarus, "I have not tasted brandy yet. I'm rather young, for an elf. Duskwalkers are born fully formed as adults, you see. But if you make that dinner, I would love to do so. I love trying all mortal foods and beverages."
The book starts shaking again, and Tess returns to singing to it.
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Tarcog goes up to Turiik and whispers “Do you have anything to soothe a sore throat?” With a nod of his head towards Tess he says “I would rather not get stuck in a strange land just because someone’s voice gave out after singing a long time.”
"Oh!" Turiik is startled by the kobold. "Yes. There are quite a few remedies for that..." He opens the satchel at his side.
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When Turiik brings up the question of appropriate clothing, Jayma pauses to think a moment. "Is Arcadia going to be cold? Did I pack my winter clothing? I don't remember taking it out after that awful mission to Irrisen." She telepathically contacts Twyl, currently snoozing in her right sleeve, and tells him to go look in her closet in the left sleeve. She closes her eyes and accesses Twyl's senses. Sure enough, way in the back she finds her puffy winter gear. "Excellent! One less thing to worry about."
"What do we know about K.H.W.?" Eando frowns. "Almost nothing, which is disturbing considering that we are an organization that prides itself on our chronicles and record-keeping. All we really know is that K.H.W. was an experienced Pathfinder and one of the top-ranking Dark Archive agents. K.H.W., also known as the lone archivist, stole casefiles and records when the Dark Archive faction was disbanded. I don't know if they managed to erase the memories of their comrades when they left, or if that was a side effect of the book and its magic."
Then Eando turns to Turiik, and notices the herb they've been carrying. "Before you go, can you hand me that sun orchid to replant? We've been trying to encourage them to grow in the oasis, but they resist cultivation."
He pauses. "As for everything else, your current clothes should be fine for Xopatl. Old Razatlan is warm and temperate, but like the desert, the mountainous foothills get cool at night. Are you ready to travel?"
Silence flaps his wings.
Meadow laughs at the owl. "Ha! Of course it's too hot here. It's a desert you silly bird. You're getting spoiled. I mean sure it's hot here but it's a dry heat. Besides, would you rather have stayed in Absalom and gotten turned into a salamander?" Turning to Eando she replies. "We're ready. I barely even had a chance to get my pack off of my camel. Um...do you think I could get a different camel for this trip though? The one I got was sweet to me but she kept spitting at Silence."
“We are ready.”
Amvolwatt comes to stand beside Tarcog, nodding it’s head in agreement.
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Dr. Lazarus frowns when Eando Kline doesn't know any more about K.H.W. than he himself has heard. The investigator has an entire writing pad devoted to K.H.W. It's mostly empty. He holds it up. "I've dedicated this book for all things related to K.H.W. Alas, our friend remains a mystery. For now..." Lazarus remains hopeful.
He stows the pad, drains his brandy snifter, and turns to the others. "Shall we get started? That is, if Jayma is comfortably dressed."
Turiik startles again. "This is a sun orchid? Oh dear. I'm sorry. I didn't realize there was a horticulture experiment there." He flushes enough to tell through his sun burned face. "Um. Maybe one of the Pathfinders familiar with the efforts could assist me in restocking my supplies without, um, ruining anything else?"
Once the others indicate their readiness, he clears his throat and asks, "If you give me a little time to prepare, I'll bring some remedies. And I need to put on my armor. In case something tries to eat me."
“Don’t worry, you have something better than a dragon on your side.” Tarcog says.
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“You’ve got ” Amvolwatt says.
They seem to have rehearsed this.
Eando grins at Meadow. "You won't need a camel to get where you are going. The book uses a form of teleportation known as the somnambulist's bridge. Apparently, it will open, and it will take you there in your sleep. Before that happens, I'd like to be out of the room."
Eando glances at Turiik. "How long do you need for your preparations?"
"About an hour?" Turiik requests sheepishly.
“We travel in our sleep?”
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Dr. Lazarus nods to Turiik. "Take all the time you need, dear boy. I'll catch up on some reading to prepare for the trip." Searching through his bag, after some difficulty, he retrieves "Xperiencing Xopatl: A Traveller's Guide".
After reading a few pages, he mutters, "Tis a shame my Razatlani is so rusty..." He continues skimming the book till the group is ready.
As Tess speaks, the pages of the book glow with an almost hypnotic light. A strange drifting sensation fills your bodies as you fall asleep, and time stretches and contorts as darkness swallows you. As you float gently in this void, a strange voice speaks to you. It sounds like rustling paper, and the scratching notes of a quill with occasional pauses to dip in an inkwell before scratching out again. Yet you understand every word.
My future and fellow Archivists,
The Dark Archive is no more, except for me. When the Pathfinder Society announced that our faction was to be dissolved, absorbed into its other departments, I grabbed the files I could and left before they could stop me. These pages are all that remain of our faction's records, and I am all that remains of our membership.
These these subjects are what remain of my personal caseload. Some, I had been investigating for years, but I have reason to believe that the group itself, as a whole, is more important than the sum of its parts. The files have to be connected, in some way. I know it. Though it's been a while since I explained such paths of thought to other archivists, even at my best, I'm not sure I could describe it. I can feel the web that weaves between them, even if I know not how. As I prod at one thread, another tremors with the impact. Like with all mysteries, every piece unveiled reveals new questions at its edges.
I know too well how overwhelming this tide can feel. All archivists know it. All I can tell you is that it passes, as all things do. Hold fast to your investigations, and to each other. This work shouldn't be done alone; I know this better than most. I've done as much as I can on my own, but an isolated perspective can reveal only so much. I miss the days of collaborative investigation, the nights of fruitless brainstorm, the theories shouted out of desperate whimsy that turned inexplicably true. This, to me, is the Dark Archive. We need no motto, logo, or funding, so long as we have archivists. If there are people, somewhere, anywhere, who believe that every question has an answer worth finding, then our faction persists.
I may be the Lone Archivist, but I have no intention of being the last. To that end: may the darkness bring you enlightenment, as it always does. Until we meet,
—K.H.W.
Then like waking from a dream, you come to your senses and the book snaps shut, falling with quiet thump at your feet. The air is slightly humid, but fresh, and a scent of flowers hangs in the air. The sun is rising, and a cacophony of birds call from every tree. Before you is a gorgeous Razatlan castle built of pale pink stone, its walls and walkways glowing as the rosy light of dawn hits them.
From the walkway to the castle, you can see a young boy call out from one of the doorways, "They're here! They're here!" to someone else before running back inside.
A few minutes later, a muscular man with tattoos on his arms approaches. He's wearing simple robes, and he blinks a moment as he studies each of you. "Travelers. Please tell me... Did you come to answer our call? Are you here to help us?"
Turiik blinks and shakes his head in an effort to clear the fog in his mind faster. He looks over the Razatlan landscape a bit bewildered. "Someone should, um, keep the book safe."
When the man from the castle arrives, he holds his tongue and tries to shrink behind those more skilled in speechcraft, which is to say, almost anyone else. His eyes dart from one companion's face to the other.
"We're almost ready to go. I just need to get Silence into his armor. Come here Silence." She becons the owl to approach.
Silence however, is having none of that and makes a break for the exit.
"Screech!
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As Tess initiates the teleporation, her final call is cut off, but Jayma understood. "Yes, Tess. You make sure you do."
As they look over the book contents, Jayma says, "Whoever this K.H.W. is, they definitely had an inflated sense of themself. Lone Archivist indeed!"
When the young boy calls out, Jayma is a little surprised. "Dearie me. It seems we've been expected." As the muscled man with the tattoos approaches, Jayma steps forward, absently stroking Twyl's head as he sits on her shoulders. "Ah, so it was you who raised the alarm then? Yes indeed, we are members of the Pathfinder Society and have been sent here to do whatever we can to help you. Perhaps you would be so kind as to explain with some precision the problems you are experiencing. All we've been told is that some of you have been given powerful abilities that you are having difficulty controlling."
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The young ranger is too quick and is able to close the tent flap before Silence can make his escape. A brief chase around the tent is followed by a prolonged wrestling match.
"Will you just hold still? this is for your own good."
Tarcog awakens and looks around. I must have gone asleep, Amvolwatt isn’t here. I will need to call him here soon. He is still getting his bearings as the young boy rushes up and asks for aid.
Smiling, he waits for Jayma to finish speaking before telling the lad “Yes, we are here to help!”
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Eventually the owl finds himself fully armored. He flaps his wings and makes an awful hissing sound only to be calmed when his friend produces a treat. He promptly devours the spicy meat and settles down.
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An exhausted Meadow shakes her head at the owl. "Do we really have to do that time?"
She turns to Eando. "Okay. We're ready now."
The man opens his tattooed arms in greeting. “Ah, welcome! I am glad to see you have come to aid our humble order in our time of need. I am Edibaro Jolínarez, head monk of the Order of Yllaldo, ever in your service.” Edibaro bows slightly.
“As you may have heard, there have been strange goings‑on in and around Yllaldo Castle of late. I've learned of locals waking with awesome and nightmarish abilities, but becoming overwhelmed with their mysterious powers, often hurting themselves or others in the process. While I can't explain the reason for these, I do believe I know when they began. Our order routinely scours the network of tunnels and chambers beneath the keep to clear out any creatures that might have taken up residence. During one of these undertakings, we ran into a powerful bulette that caused a sizable amount of destruction. We magically sealed off the area in hopes of returning later to finish the task, but the first transformations and awakenings of abilities began shortly afterward. We believe that something occurred during that engagement with the bulette that might be the cause for all of this.”
He looks anxiously at you before continuing. “Unfortunately, many of our order are now bedridden, injured as others transformed or sickened by their own, and I'm afraid our numbers are too small to safely return beneath the keep to investigate. We assumed a group of investigators such as yourself could take the lead and assist us with the matter. Hopefully we can put an end to this whole matter altogether.”
“If you have further questions for me... just ask. We were told that if we pressed the beacon of flame, you would come, and know what to do?” At this last bit, Edibaro's voice rises in a hopeful question.
Turiik blinks and shakes his head in an effort to clear the fog in his mind faster. He looks over the Razatlan landscape a bit bewildered. "Someone should, um, keep the book safe."
"I'll get it!"
Meadow picks up the book and carefully stows it in her backpack.
"A talking book. Crazy. It'll never catch on." She shakes her head.
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The book shakes a bit in the backpack, as if protesting such cavalier treatment.
Turiik nods as Edibaro speaks. "It sounds like they released something," the Erutaki man says to the others. "The place that was damaged might have clues."
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Jayma listens attentively to Edibaro's recounting. "Hmm. It does sound as if your engagement with the bulette may have wakened something dangerous that was long buried in the tunnels. We'll definitely have to go and investigate. How do we get past your magical seal? Oh! And since you didn't mention killing the bulette, do I take it that it still roams the tunnels?"
Edibaro coughs. "I'm not sure 'roams' is the correct term. 'Crashes through the tunnels' may be a more accurate description. As for getting through the seal, I will be sending three brothers with you. They are volunteers and know the risks."
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Dr. Lazarus quickly adjusts to his new surroundings. As Meadow reaches to pick up the amazing book, the Doctor says, "If I may, dear lady ... would you mind terribly if I hung onto the book. I have a special velvet-lined pouch in my bag here for such valuables." Ever hopeful to have the honor caring for such a unique tome, Lazarus carefully stows it away.
Upon meeting the monk, Lazarus retrieves his writing pad. "A bulette you say? Rest assured, my dear man. We know all about bulettes." He says that with an unwarranted air of confidence, as he quickly wracks his brain to recall what he remembers.
The investigator jots down some notes about the bulette.
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Tarcog asks “Could we examine the injured?”
Gesturing to Dr. Lazarus and Turiik he adds “Some of us are knowledgeable in medicine and herbalism. Examining the injured may give us clues as to what to expect.”
“Are any of the people who first fought this bulette able to answer questions?”
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Jayma also ponders what she's learned about bulettes from her usual sources.
When Tarcog asks to examine the injured, it triggers Jayma to think about the locals with their new powers. "What types of awesome and nightmarish abilities are we talking about here? What is it about these abilities that overwhelms the unfortunates? Knowing some of the details may prepare us for what we'll meet in the tunnels."
When Thurston relocates the book to the velvet-lined pouch, he can almost swear that the book is butting against his hand, demanding to be stroked.
When Tarcog asks to be taken to the ward of the injured, Edibaro nods. "Yes, of course. Please, follow me."
"We're going to see the wounded?" Turiik asks with an odd hint of trepidation in his voice. He fidgets with the buckles and buttons on his satchel. "I'm not sure I'll be any more help than your own medics. But I can try."
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As Lazarus provides what he hopes is a good home for the unique book, he strokes the binding like Tess was doing, as he places it in the velvet pouch.
Snapping his fingers, the forensics professor exclaims, "Yes yes, have any of you read the best-selling book "Burrowing Beasts: Unearthing the Truth about Voles, Moles, and More" ? He looks around, disappointed. "Anyone? No? I feared not. Fortunately, I have a copy in here somewhere." As he rummages in his bag, he drones on, "The bulette has a large dorsal fin and appears as a landshark." Holding the book aloft, he points to a picture, and continues, "As you can see here, they leap from the earth to strike their preferred victims, halflings." Indicating Meadow, he adds, "We're in luck, dear lady, as they don't prefer elven flesh."
Completing his lecture, the Doctor stows his book and follows Edibaro, looking forward to examining the medical ward.
“Why halflings?”
As people are getting ready to visit the infirmary, Tarcog uses his magic to summon Amvolwatt to him.
The dragon shifts into the material plane, appearing beside Tarcog.
“Did I miss anything important?”
Tarcog quickly brings the dragon up to date about what is happening as the group walks towards the castle.
"If you can heal them, that would be wonderful," Edibaro states as he takes you towards the ward. As you journey through the monastery of Yllado, you can tell that this is a beautiful place. Many of the hallways are open to either exterior gardens or interior courtyards. There are dedicated and fragrant herbal gardens, a kitchen garden featuring three sisters plantings of maize, squash and beans, along with peppers, tomatoes and leafy greens, meditation areas with views of the mountains and a distant ziggurat, and everywhere birds, butterflies and flowers. But these halls feel empty. Other than the young boy who announced you, the only ambulatory monk you've seen so far is Edibaro. "But if you cannot heal them, find the source of this ailment and stop it."
You hear and smell the ward long before you reach it. Cot after cot of sweat-soaked men and women groan from the cots. Some appear comatose, though Turiik notes a deeply sedative concoction of herbs in bowls by some of these cots. “You were asking about their transformations. We've seen everything from extreme strength to astral projection. When these abilities awaken, the person sometimes undergoes a physical mutation—one brother grew a second, fanged mouth over his heart that spits bolts of lightning. We're keeping him sedated for now, but it's only a short term fix.”
Edibaro points out different monks, some with obvious external mutations, and others appear merely fevered and agitated. “These abilities are sometimes powerful, and the newfound power can overwhelm the person. Many people manifest an ability and almost immediately fall comatose. In other cases, the ability is unleashed in a destructive manner that hurts the person and others around them. One traveler began to unintentionally throw things about their guest room as they were unable to control their new telekinetic abilities. Even for those who survive the initial awakening, their newfound abilities are often incapacitating and unstable.”
He points out a bald woman with deep gashes on her arms and chest from an animal attack. She turns a weary gaze on you. "Elena over there survived the bulette attack if you want to ask her a bit more."