Killer Dough (Inactive)

Game Master Doug Hahn

The Glass River lives up to its name: the barge, Queen of Elysium, sways slowly as she makes her way upriver towards the enigmatic nation of Razmiran. Your destination is the Exalted Lodge, the Pathfinder Lodge founded two years ago at the behest of a silver-masked priest named Narsen. The ruined old fort was refurbished, and now the Exalted Lodge stands proudly on a bluff overlooking the Exalted forest

All Hail Razmir, Master of the 31 Steps!

Accommodations are hardly adequate on a ship like this; Razmir is always frugal. At least it’s not cramped: even after the founding of the lodge, few choose to visit Razmiran. There are only a few others who booked passage on this vessel.

You lean against the railing and once again open the letter you received from Fola Barun:

Most esteemed colleagues,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am contacting you with an important request that requires individuals of your proven experience. I need a group of capable of agents to assist Venture Captain Narsen at the Exalted Lodge in Razmiran. He is apparently being plagued by a Razmiri vampire who is specifically targeting Pathfinder agents from a lair somewhere in the Exalted Wood. Narsen cannot leave his lodge unattended long enough to deal with this threat himself and thus far has lost every local agents he’s sent to investigate the problem.

While you assist Narsen with his issue, I have a secondary request for you. Narsen has been true to every letter of his agreement with the Pathfinder Society so far, but we have not made the inroads we hoped for when we made him a venture captain. Much of Razmiran still remains closed to us, and even when concessions are made it often only Pathfinders who are also Razmiri priests that are allowed to observe political activities or investigate reports of undead who have crossed Lake Encarthan from the Gravelands.

We need more Razmiri agents whose loyalty to the Society supersedes their subservience to the priesthood. Of particular interest to me are reports of a vigilante going by the name “Shattermask”. While he seems to have a severe violent streak and a quarrel with the Razmiri priests, he has also eluded their capture for years while performing ever-more violent acts of defiance. I believe that if he could be convinced to temper his actions and work with the Society, he could be a valuable ally and an opportunity for us to gain greater insight into both the true situation in Razmiran and, possibly, Narsen’s motivations. My most recent reports indicate that Shattermask is also hunting the vampire plaguing Narsen’s operations, so it may be that you can establish an alliance with him through shared purpose. If you are able to contact him, please give him the sealed letter I’ve enclosed offering him reasonable accommodations for travel to the Grand Lodge and the possibility of a contract, or even a field commission, available for a trustworthy Razmiri ally who isn’t under the priesthood’s thumb.

I would ask you to be careful about saying anything with regard to the offer to Shattermask in Narsen’s presence. Narsen did not attain the power and position he has without being able to derive an ocean of insight from a droplet of evidence, and I fear he hews a bit too closely to the letter of his word without regard for the spirit in which it is received.

Take care and return safely,

Fola Barun

Let's introduce our PCs! How're you spending time on the barge? Have you visited Razmir before or did you help build this lodge?

No 1-18 on this character.

Sylvia is a middle aged human woman with long dark hair and somewhat thick spectacles. A trio of spirits seems to float around her at all time, sometimes visible and sometimes not.

She nervously adjusts her glasses as she introduces herself "Hi, fellow Pathfinders. I... I still can't believe I'm really a Field Agent. After helping defend our mortuary during that horrible attack on the Grand Lodge during the Siege of Gallowspire... They finally cleared me to go on missions. I've never been to Razmiran before"

On the Boat sylvia studies from her well worn spellbook that emits an otherworldly chill while opened. She also spends some time reading over Fola Barun's letter a few times, trying to memorize all the details.

Despite clearly having been at it awhile now she seems rather uncomfortable with this whole adventuring thing. Given her book, and frequent spirits flitting around her, necromancy is clearly her focus.

Sylvia's normal morning routine includes casting MageArmor(4), using Wand of Longstrider(2) and Wand of Teeming Ghosts(2) (AC/Saves/temp hp from those included in header.

Chumwi is a thin bonuwat man with a shaved head, dressed in mottled green and brown. He carries a wooden staff with a head carved to resemble a flame, and wears a medallion with two carved faces. A small leafy creature frequently emerges from a satchel at his hip to perch on his shoulder, though it frequently turns around to wave at the other people on the boat. If asked, Chumwi introduces the leshy as Igi, and he seems to be able to converse with the leshy in Sylvan.

He spends much of the journey leaning on the railing, looking slightly queasy and pining for shore. In between bouts of sea-sickness (or river-sickness, in this case), he reviews everything he can remember from his time helping to establish the Exalted Lodge, jotting them down in a small notebook.

No daily preparations, though whenever the barge makes landfall he seeks out some fresh berries to keep a small pouch on his hip restocked.

A dwarf in dark-colored armor appears seemingly out of nowhere. She lights up a cigar but dutifully snuffs it out when a sailor scolds her for the fire risk.

She nods at the druid. "Chumwi. Good to be back in action with you again. It will be interesting the see Razimiran Lodge again. That was a lot of work."

She waves at Sylvia. "Good to meet you. I'm Dorrance Silvernail."

She lights her cigar again as soon as the sailor is out of sight.

Dorrance played 1-18

"Funny how we always seem to get assigned to the same missions, eh Silvernail?" Chumwi says with a smile. "Almost like it's easier to keep an eye on us that way, huh?"

The youthful Taldane warrior leapt easily onto the barge despite the heavy bulk of his pack and the armor wrapped and stowed around it. It was feat of strength more than any grace. His foot slipped, and he shifted quickly to steady himself, flashing a bright grin at whoever happened to see his entrance (and his misstep). He wears a rainbow tailed songbird pin on his coat and bears a sword at his waist.

"My name is Iniquity Pen," he says, setting down his pack and then rising to stand taller. "I don't believe that I've had the pleasure of traveling with any of you before. I'm a thespian--a fairly good one, if I may boast--and warrior of Shelyn. I shall do my best to keep you safe on this assignment. But... vampires? This plot reminds me of a show I once participated in, Turn off the Darkness, it wasn't very good."

He looks back from where his eyes had turned to gaze distantly into the horizon and flashes that infectious grin. "Well, anyhow!"

<<<>>>

On the river, Inqiuty--Ink, if you like--is happy to talk about any subject and seems to know a little about everything but talk talk deeply about very few things except music and acting. While not a flirt, he is quick to flash a grin at anyone he catches looking at him. He seems to just genuinely like other people.

As you drift into the village of Prophet’s Rest, you try to recall what you know about vampires…

Any Pathfinder of your caliber knows they're undead who feed on the blood of the living, grabbing and Draining them (Capital D Drain). They have standard immunities and are famous for not casting a shadow or having a reflection in the mirror.

Sylvia knows a lot more, though. First, unlike other undead a vampire isn't destroyed at 0 HP. Instead, it falls unconscious. If its body rests in its coffin for 1 hour, the vampire gains 1 HP, after which its fast healing begins to function normally.

They also have compulsions and revulsions. Most vampires can't cross running water or enter someone's home unless invited. A vampire can't voluntarily come within 10 feet of brandished garlic or a brandished religious symbol of a non-evil deity. They can be destroyed if you stake them through the heart while unconscious, sever the head, and anoint with holy water. Finally vampires hate sunlight and are slow in it.

True vampires are even stronger and have other abilities that let them dominate others and create spawn from those whose blood they drain.

Crit the check; some of this is background flavor some of it may be relevant.

Sylvia nervously shares what she knows about vampires.

"I've got a feeling that maybe it's just a property dispute and an old guy in a mask, but in case... in case I'm wrong some garlic and a few sharp sticks could be of use..."

"Hopefully a clan dagger works as well as a stake."

Dorrance pats a well-worn clan dagger at her side, the tiny gems and intricate carvings forming her family's pattern.

"I normally stick to the shadows, but I suppose I'll have to prefer the sunlight this time."

1/2

The Queen of Elysium pulls alongside the dock of the small Razmiri village of Prophet’s Rest on a chilly morning, with the sun just beginning to burn the mist off the Glass River. The rickety wooden dock is quiet, with only a few fishermen going about their business while a single guard in the yellow and purple colors of Razmiran leans lazily against a longspear.

Chumwi and Dorrance can see the village is more prosperous than last time — no need for surface-level touch-ups or propaganda. At least not at a glance. It is Razmiran after all…

As you pass through the village, the fog is burning off. You see your destination about a mile away atop a promontory that overlooks the Glass River valley. Even from a distance, the keep looks to be in excellent shape. Mask Narsen once said this place has "great bones" — perhaps he was telling the truth. or perhaps you just did a damn good job here two years ago.

Indeed, many expected the tenuous allegiance between the Pathfinder Society and the Church of Razmir to end swiftly, but it has lasted over two years. As a site of learning, commerce, and recruitment, the Exalted Lodge has prospered under Narsen’s leadership.

Up you go to the keep, winding along the switchback road that was once swarming with undead from the Gravelands…

Iniquity raises an eyebrow and glances down at the dock as it groans under his weight. Now outfitted with his full armor and his shield unwrapped, he is the model of a storybook knight. "I could use a bath, but that doesn't mean I want to fall through the docks," he says to nobody in particular before clomping onwards at a brisker pace.

He pleasantly hums an Isgeri folk song as you wind your way along the switchback.

The humming seems out of place in the quiet village, which is distinctly lacking in smiles or song.

______

The gates to the keep — which now sport a 15' tall painting of Razmir's mask — open for you and make your way directly to the office. Chumwi and Dorrance know the way… they built this place after all.

The spacious office in Razmiran’s Exalted Lodge is well-appointed, with luxurious seating and a polished peachwood executive's desk. Banners of yellow and purple hang on the walls.

A tall, silver-masked man in dark silken robes stands in the doorway. Mask Narsen.

His voice is soft… creamy. "Ah, they've gifted me with my favorite project managers! Pathfinder Chumwi and Pathfinder Dorrance, so good to have you on my team again." The silver mask turns to 'Pen and Sylvia. These two earned so much value for Razmir — the Living God, Master of the 31 Steps, praise be his name — on this project of which I was the humble Sponsor.." He gestures at the very walls around him. We were quite pleased with the Cost Performance Index, which was within the acceptable positive range as dictated by the Project Management Institute of Razmiran. A positive CPI is a blessed thing that makes all Razmiran hearts sing with joy."

He glides behind his desk sumptuous desk and sits, spidersilk-gloved hand gesturing for you to be seated as well. It seems the "humble project sponsor" is doing rather well for himself. "Pathfinder Iniquity and Pathfinder Sylvia, as you may have surmised I am Venture-Captain Narsen."

"Fola Barun gave you the full details, I am sure. We’ve got a bit of a vampire problem and no one seems competent enough to do anything about it. Priests and Pathfinders alike have hunted the offender and failed to return. One can only presume they’ve perished in the attempt… or worse. I do so hope things will go a bit differently with you."

“This sacrilegious creature wears a golden mask, a blasphemy to all that is Holy. They kill my allies. Compounding this, there is another force opposing us upon the board: an unhinged vigilante named Shattermask has been striking fear into the hearts of my peers — fears they then vent onto me. Meanwhile, I am keeping this lodge together through pious strength of will and the occasional thrashing of overly ambitious juniors.”

He folds his hand in front of him and leans forward.

“I’ve arranged transportation in the form of magically enhanced carriages that will take you to the Exalted Wood, where the attacks are occurring. I have also generously provided vampire slaying kits for each of you.” He gestures to a neat stack of equipment on one side of his desk. “As Pathfinders of your caliber surely know, driving a stake through a vampire’s heart and decapitating it is one of the only certain ways to destroy it."

"Your Blessed Project Scope is to slay this gold-masked one, along with any of his spawn, and return his mask to me as the Key Performance Indicator of your success. In addition, you cannot allow the vigilante Shattermask and the vampire to meet, lest he attempt to use the vampire as a tool to spread heresy… or worse, gain vampiric powers to enhance his depraved ends."

"I cannot stress the importance of this mission enough; if we do not deal with this vampire, my position in the priesthood will be at stake, and with it the Pathfinders’ very presence in the glorious nation of Razmiran.”

He steeples his gloved hands and peers at you through the silver mask, awaiting any questions.

Artwork on slide 1!

Sylvia nervously adjusts her glasses "I'm glad to hear you're such an expert on financial matters. It's good to be an expert in something. I... I myself am an academic regarding magics of death. Probably best that you've been assigned to administrate, and I've been assigned to see to the Vampire problem. "

Sylvia takes another moment to adjust her hair and glasses.

"We... we were not given a full briefing of the other parties involved. The previous Pathfinder teams, and this Shattermask. Any information you have on either could make the difference for us determining friend from foe in the woods."

"Didn't we meet in Artume?" Iniquity says with a wide grin. "No? Hmm. My mistake. Difficult to tell with the--." He makes a circular gesture around his face with an open hand. "The masks." He motions, mumming the tossing of something over his shoulder. "More germane to the situation, do you have a map where you can mark out both the vampire assaults and Shattermask's assaults?"

"I am glad to see the lodge and the surrounding town have both prospered under your leadership, Venture-Captain" Chumwi says, his expression serious. He considers the assignment for a moment, then asks: "Has this Shattermask made any demands? Or is he just sowing chaos? Understanding his motivation may help us in finding and dealing with him."

Dorrance puffs on her cigar. "Good to see the place again. I'm glad it's held up. D'you mind if I ask how you know that this masked person is a vampire? Has he made more vampires?"

The silver mask stares blankly at Sylvia and 'Pen. "No one is more cherished in Razmiran than one who lightens the burden of another; this is the pious vocation that has called me to service. I am ever so blessed to lighten your burden, Pathfinder Dyspell and Pathfinder Pen." He nods at Chumwi and Dorrance, accepting their compliments with a slight nod.

Mask Narsen taps his fingers against his chin of silver before answering Sylvia. Friend from foe is a complex issue. The rats believe they sense weakness, and will try to gnaw their way in. Like that vigilante I mentioned before. With the attacks, few villagers will be in the woods… you likely won't find friends out there."

You will have to find our quarry yourself; the carriages will drop you at the edge of the woods.

Shattermask is a mere anti-establishment brute. He likes to hunt Razmiri priests and destroy their masks in very public, very violent displays. Who can delve into the motivations of such an irrational mind? He’s been seen stalking the edges of the Exalted Wood recently, and I cannot have him be the one to find the gold-masked vampire first. Just find him and keep him far away from that vampire. I don’t care how, and I have no interest in what you do with him so long as you ensure that he’s not my problem anymore.”

"Oh… we know he's a vampire, and in fact he takes particular pleasure in turning Pathfinders. He’s waging a war directly against the Society, sending his minions with blood-stained wayfinders and having them target anyone even vaguely associated. If he is allowed to continue, we all lose.”

______

Dorrance and Chumwi know about the exalted woods… rumors of late mention a nearly impenetrable fog arising at night in the woods. Many have been avoiding it given how especially easy it is to get lost now. Makes sense no one is going out into the woods these days.

Sylvia knows golden masks indicate the highest level of the Razmiri priesthood, and the gold required to craft one is in short supply for most citizens of Razmiran. If the vampire is wearing one, it’s likely that he either was a high-ranking member of the priesthood or killed such an individual.

"Interesting. Very well. We'll deal with this vampire, and if we find this Shattermask, we'll make sure he is out of your hair, as it were."

OUR hair, Chumwi. OUR. We — that is, the Society and Myself — are in this together. While your group fights off the killers in the woods, I am single-handedly holding the slavering wolves at bay here in the Exalted Lodge.

The carriages contain enough rations to feed you all for a week. All told the vampire kits contain forty wooden stakes, half a dozen garlic necklaces, a pair of magical silver daggers, torches, and a stout axe.

"Don't worry. We'll handle it."

Dorrance holds up a silver dagger with admiration.

Chumwi's eyes drift upward for just a moment, as if glancing at his own bald pate, before replying "yes, of course."

Once loaded up in the wagon, Chumwi takes some time examining the equipment in the kits to see what sort of magic may be present. He has Quick Identification.

”Is silver any more effective against vampires than other metals?” Iniquity asks. ”I’ve got a cold iron blade.”

You find a pair of sturdy enchanted coaches waiting for you at the front gates of the lodge. The coaches need neither drivers nor animals to draw them and take you to the border of the Exalted Wood.

The coaches, bound by Razmir's divine magic, leave once you've unloaded.

It's is late afternoon and the woods are quiet… but the sun is setting fast. No time to waste.

After exploring the woods for 2 hours, as the sun sets and the light becomes dim. A grim mist fills the woods, concealing creatures and objects alike. everything at least 30 feet from the viewer total concealment, and everything 15 feet and beyond concealment.

The mist clings to your skin and seems to swirl, making strange shapes appear in the corner of your eyes. Even more worrisome, your wayfinders cease to work as compasses. Sylvia detects magic and finds that all of the mist is magical and that there's no way to ignore its presence… rendering the spell useless. She knows this effect was created with a powerful occult ritual.

______

To find tracks in the mist, each of you must make a DC 25 Perception check or a DC 23 Survival check, Otherwise, you will start going in circles. I need multiple successes here. You might also want to find a way to deal with the dim light.

Was I able to identify anything of the magic items in the gear we got? Anything interesting about the daggers?

---------

Chumwi pulls several torches made of tropical wood and affixes them to the front of the lead wagon.

Survival: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34

Sylvia shakes her Wayfinder, at least trying to get some light from it.

I've got goggles of night for an hour of darkvision for myself but not much to solve our light problems in general. (Also don't have detect magic prepared.

Survival to track: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (11) + 13 = 24

Looking to Sylvia's wayfinder, Chumwi shakes his head and says "If we're hunting a Pathfinder-hating vampire, I suppose lighting a literal shining Pathfinder beacon might hurry along finding them..."

"I was just thinking something similar about Shattermask on the way up here," Iniquity says as he touches the wayfinder hanging from his belt and concentrates on lighting it.

Dorrance's Perception (M): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17

Dorrance has darkvision as a dwarf.

"Normally, I like the shadows, but there's something just off around here."

Survival: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17

The thespian adventurer removes a carefully wrapped porcelain mask from his backpack. Iniquity places it on his face and concentrates. The mask ripples and shifts into an iron Razmiran mask. ”Though, I suppose it would be more convincing with one of those robes they wear,” he says. With barely a pause in breath, he continues, ”I once needed to play the roll of a hunter tracking a princess who had escaped to the woods. I spent a couple weeks working with an actual hunter…”

Iniquity's Survival (U): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17 Clever Improviser

Iniquity's Survival (U): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23 Clever Improviser

Eventually, Iniquity stops nattering and actually starts using his skills.

Sylvia will continue to do her best to analyze the tracks.

survival: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23

Dorrance's Perception (M): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 21

You find some tracks and follow them through the creepy fog.

Up ahead, at the side of a shadowed crossroads, rests a wounded man in the process of binding the worst of his injuries. His face is covered by a rough wool half-mask, and he wears a bandoleer of stakes and garlic around his chest. The belt around his waist holds a skinning knife, a carpenter’s hammer, and several other tools more at home in the hands of a fisherman than an adventurer. At his hip, the pieces of several broken Razmiri masks dangle from leather cords, clattering softly against each other as he moves. art on slide 1

"It worked! Even without the robes," Iniquity says, laughing despite the gloom. He waves his hand in front of the mask, and the mask melts from the stylized replica of a Razmiran mask to a porcelain comedy mask. He steps forward as he removes the mask and says, "Shattermask, I presume? Do you need help with those wounds?"

Sylvia thinks to herself Surely Shattermask knows of Narven and the Pathfinder society, this could just as easily be a trap, as we've made little efforts to hide our presense/allegiance.

"Hi... hello" Comments Sylvia nervously as she keeps her distance.

Dorrance shares Sylvia's concern about an ambush, and she scans the nearby area for any hidden assailants as Iniquity tends to the man.

The man nods at 'Pen's supposition and climbs to his feet unsteadily.

“There's no friends in these woods. I suppose this is it then, eh? I won't fall for your tricks. Vampires and Pathfinders, both sucking the life outta the good folk of Melcat.”

He draws a skinning knife and a well-used hammer from his belt.

“Do me a favor after ye kill me,” he asks. “Iff’n ye see a silver-masked priest with an elven blade, tell him that Boris the fisherman put a hunnerd of his fellows in the ground for what he did to my boy, and I’ll be havin’ a bit o’ a follow up for every one o’ them I meet in the Hells.”

Dorrance, Sylvia, and Iniquity recognize that “Melcat” refers to the ArchDuchy of Melcat, the former River Kingdom that Razmir overthrew to create Razmiran.

Shattermask is in no shape for a fight and won't attack unless you make the first move. You can convince him to join you… if you want… with 3 of any combination of the following: DC 23 Diplomacy, DC 25 Deception, or DC 25 Intimidation. You may also have an item that will grant an automatic success if you can figure it out.

"Kill you? Don't be ridiculous!" Iniquity says with a gentle smile. "I don't even try to kill my enemies, and you're not one of those. We're here to slay vampires not neighbors." He fishes out the sealed letter from Fola and offers it to Boris. "Fola Barun sends her regards."

Leave it on the rock there, stay back. He waits for you to back off then picks up the letter. He breaks the seal and reads it warily, keeping an eye on you. Fola eh? Possibly. And what do you have to say for yourselves? 1 success

Sylvia relaxes a little bit after he doesn't use the letter as an opportunity to spring an attack. "May you receive our words as they are intended." Sylvia will fiddle with her Occult Pendant and provide her allies guidance as they speak.

Cha 8 and untrained in all 3 skills.

I am Iniquity Pen, thespian adventurer, chosen by Shelyn. You may have heard of me," the Pathfinder says solemnly, he then puffs out his chest, replaces the porcelain mask, and projects his voice. "However, if you have not--" He strikes a dramatic pose and draws his blade. "--let me assure you that I have more than what it takes to fend off vampires, overly zealous Razmiran priests--I've had my own run in with them before the lodge was founded--and any other danger that might cross our path.

"We represent the best (and most handsome) that the Society have. Noble. Forthright. Upstanding (mostly). Sincere!" The mask shifts between caricatures of Iniquity, Chumwi, Dorrance, and Sylvia before returning to plain porcelain. "Join us in cooperation so that we may be not taken in by the fixed, metalic smiles of the Razmiri. Share your knowledge with us, and let us benefit you in return. We can start by protecting you in this excessively gloomy wood and tending to your injuries."

He ends his entreaty with a grandiose bow.

Impressive Performance (oration): Performance (M), Persona Mask: 1d20 + 16 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 16 + 1 = 25 +1 more if Guidance applies

"We have no desire to kill you, and while we are Pathfinders, our loyalties lie with the Grand Lodge, not with the local Venture-Captain." Chumwi slowly draws a handful of berries from his pouch, brings them to his mouth and blows on them, causing them to glow. He sets them on the nearby rock and gestures toward them. Pulling out a dagger, he slices open his palm, then pointedly picks one up and eats it, holding out his bleeding hand to show the wound closing up. "A gesture of goodwill. Eaten in the next ten minutes, they will heal your wounds."

Offering him some goodberries, in case that wasn't obvious.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

Alright, I'll do it. I need the help/ He takes a berry and eats it. as hungry too.

It's gettin' dark… we'll need to set up camp soon. Here, I got these. He gives you 6 lesser camp shrouds.

"Boy, you really don't know Pathfinders. I tried to kill a whole group and ended up with a job offer."

Dorrance's Probably Unnecessary Intimidation (E): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30 +1 if physically menacing

Sylvia nods and examines the items and then nervously asks

"Ta... tell us what you know of the local vampire problem."

Sylvia nods and examines the items and then nervously asks

"Ta... tell us what you know of the local vampire problem."

He shrugs. "Eh. Ain't much ta tell. Vampires killin' an' hurtin' people. So I'm gonna hurt them's boss. Normally I'm out there messin' with the Razmirans but I can happily kill a undead er two. I'll keep goin' till thjey kill me, wihch someone will prolly sooner than later. But I'ma hurt 'em all as bad as I can before I go down. An' I'll go down clawin' and cuttin, believe you me."

You get the sense that Shattermask is a man without hope, on a mission of self destruction.

As you sert up camp using one of the shrouds Shattermask sprinkles salt around the perimeter and strings up lines of hempen cord strung with old cutlery. “Them vampires don’t actually give a lick about salt, despite the folk tales,” he explains. “But some o’ the spirits that travel in their wake’ll turn from it, and most o’ the spawn can’t turn ta mist yet, so these chimes will give us a bit o’ warning if [b]they come sneaking up on us. Last of all, one o’ these,” he tosses his own camp shroud onto the fire, “will really make it hard for ‘em ta get tha better of us.”

I'll pause here to let you interact with shatter mask otherwise we will move on. Full disclosure you don't need to worry much about setting a watch order at this time.

Dorrance listens to the man and nods. "I get that. You might have more in common with Pathfinders than you realize."

"I really need to read the team dossiers better," Iniquity says not-at-all quietly to himself after Dorrance mentions her introduction into the Society.

"So there really is a vampire? I had half convinced myself that it was just an excuse by Narsen to get us to wander blindly in this eldritch mist with the hopes of stumbling upon you and killing you in the battle," he says to Boris. "Narsen suggested that the vampire was hunting Pathfinders. Do you have any inkling if that's so?"