Those who travel north along the rocky coastline from the Varisian city of Magnimar soon find themselves in peculiar country. Fog drapes the rolling landscape, floating spectrally along damp and lonely moors. Small woodlands grace the region, their tangled depths redolent of nettles and pepperwood and pine sap, while farther inland, river valleys lined by majestic redwoods wind between ragged tors and limestone escarpments. The region’s vastness and sense of isolation have earned it its local name—the Lost Coast.
As one approaches the town of Sandpoint, the footprint of civilization upon the Lost Coast grows clearer. Farmlands grow more numerous in outlying moors and valleys, and the blue‑green waves of the Varisian Gulf bear ever more fishing vessels. Creeks and rivers are increasingly crossed by wooden bridges rather than fords, and the Lost Coast Road grows wider and is better kept. The first glimpses of Sandpoint are hidden from either approach (south or east) by the large upthrust limestone pavements known as the Devil’s Platter and the arc of rocky outcroppings and lightly forested hilltops that rise up just east of town. As the final bend is rounded, Sandpoint’s smoking chimneys and bustling streets greet the traveler with open arms and the promise of warm beds, a welcome sight indeed for those who have spent the last few days alone on the Lost Coast Road.
From the south, a wooden bridge governs entrance to Sandpoint, while from the north, a stone wall offers the town a bit of protection. Visitors who arrive at the gates soon notice a quirky sign and mirror hanging from a bent nail at both the gatehouse and the southern bridge. Painted on each sign is a message: “Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!”
Unfortunately, the appearance of safety and warmth that Sandpoint seems to offer is a facade. Because the town of Sandpoint is worse than doomed.
For decades, this small settlement has endured one potential disaster after the other, but each time, a hero or group of adventurers stepped up to save the day. Yet now, seven separate dooms have come together, converging on the region in a way that, if not defeated in time, could well bring ruin seven times over to the so-called Light of the Lost Coast...
Chapter 1: Bones and Ashes
The four of you grew up in Sandpoint. Over the years, you have become known in town as adventurers, even if you haven't quite yet accomplished something to secure your place in history. But thanks to your burgeoning reputation, you have received an invitation from Abstalar Zantus, the high priest of the Sadnpoint Cathedral.
Easily the largest building in Sandpoint, the impressive cathedral is not dedicated to the worship of a single deity. Rather, it gathers under its eaves the six most commonly worshiped deities in the region: Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae, and Shelyn. The building provides chapels for all of these deities in a communal forum—in a way, Sandpoint Cathedral is six different churches under one impressive roof.
The core of the cathedral is an open-air courtyard surrounding a set of seven 9-foot-tall standing stones, which themselves surround a circular stone altar. These stones served the Varisians for centuries as a place of worship. Abstalar awaits you here, standing before a table with a large lunch spread set upon it. Abstalar greets you with a smile and open arms.
"Welcome, friends. May Desna smile upon you! Come, have a seat and enjoy the fine weather and fine food with me."
A solid halfling who, by the pans and utensils hanging from his belt, knows his way around a kitchen casts an eye over the lunch spread before tucking in. "A great looking meal, as usual! One of these days, I must have you over for lunch. I've been trying out a new mushroom dish that is out of this world."
Tekmin is quick to settle in and eat, content to enjoy the good food and good weather.
"Hmmph," Wherby grunts as he looks over the food before selecting some.
He looks around for a seat, trying to get as far from that annoying halfling who's always bothering him as he can. "Do you need some poultices or herbs? Latest group of adventurers need some healing as they pass through?" he asks sourly.
On his way into the Cathedral, Herok took a moment to stop off at the shrine to Erastil. After a quick prayer, he continued on to the courtyard.
”Thank you, Father Zantus, for the invitation to lunch. We appreciate the time you have taken to have us.”
Abstalar waves off Wherby's questions. "Let's eat and enjoy the day a bit before turning to that." He fills his own plate and begins to chew thoughtfully.
After a bit, he wipes at his mouth. "So, I have heard a bit of some of your previous exploits about town. I remember when you took down that ghoul who was causing problems. But I would love to hear more details about your adventures, if you'd be so inclined!"
"Well, did you hear that the ghoul was a cultist of Abraxas?! I'd never seen such a thing. All sorts of forbidden lore in that lair," Tekmin explains. "Good thing Mr. Crick was there. He's an expert in the uncanny, you know."
Herok paused a moment to finish chewing, and then said, "If you wish. As Tekmin said, that Ghoul inhabited a temple to the demon lord Abraxas, and it was a master of necromantic magic, besides. A nasty business, had it been able to accomplish what it sought to do. The temple itself still needs some kind of consecration to ensure its evil does not spread - I myself am not strong enough - but hopefully we are done dealing with that particular mess for a time. There was also this cult that inhabited a cave system that the...Bunyip Club..." here Herok seemed to grumble a bit, "asked us to clear out, who worshipped the Sandpoint Devil and believed it to be on the verge of ascending to godhood."
Not quite "Heroes of Sandpoint" stuff, but he supposed you couldn't take down a Runelord every day - especially since there seemed to be only two left and they weren't really bothering anyone.
Ximble is most impressed by the lunch Father Alphabet has prepared for them. This must be one important meeting if it needs to be accompanied by this much quality food. It reminds him of the time Mom Wyrdfellar brought home steaks, a rare occurrence in their household, only to drop the news mid-dinner that they were leaving Sandpoint for Magnimar and beyond. Wait, surely the Father isn't leaving them?!
The gnome forces the intrusive thoughts out, for now, and offers both the Father and the three other guests a warm smile before accepting the invitation to fill his plate. Carefully, he listens to the stories the others spin. "Ah, that silly cult. It's good the Bunyip Club asked us to deal with them. See, Herok, even a wrong can be a positive given the right formula. You just need to know how to manipulate the input! Or, eh, output. Whatever, whichever, tis a good thing we were called in to deal with these fools teetering on the edge, chasing the fable of the precipice. Oh! And we even got to deal with the bunyip! An actual one, that is. You should've seen Herok's face when the darn beast threw itself upon us. Plot twist!"
"Hmmph! I am not. We have adventurers to deal with that. The Runelords rise, the Runelords rest, the Runelords return, the Runelords retire. That's for other people to deal with. I just give them herbs and poultices to keep them whole!"
Wherby grumps, annoyed to be confused with someone who should be dealing with this. Whatever this is. But, no, he's sure he's somehow going to have to handle it. Probably because of that dratted Tekmin again.
Abstalar chuckles at Ximble's exuberant storytelling and nods at all the right places. Finally, once lunch is done, the priest gives a heavy sigh and gathers his thoughts for a moment. "You all have lived in Sandpoint for a long time. Likely you are painfully aware of our town's shameful history. While the scandal involving Sandpoint’s founding several decades ago certainly didn't start things off on the best foot, what I am more concerned with is how the town and my predecessor, Ezakien Tobyn, treated the foundling aasimar Nualia.
"It was absolutely horrible. The children played cruel pranks on her. The adults treated her with superstition and awkward reverence. But Ezakien was worst of all. He simultaneously took advantage of the upswell of religious fervor triggered by Nualia’s presence in town, which increased donations to the cathedral, and kept her under a stultifying curfew meant to preserve her 'purity' so she could eventually join a prestigious convent in Andoran—a plan Ezakien hoped would earn him a more comfortable position in a 'much more civilized' part of the world.
"It was perhaps inevitable that Nualia would lose her way and turn to the worship of Lamashtu. After living a life of loneliness and disappointment, Nualia had come to believe that Lamashtu was the only solution. Holy men and celestial ancestry had only brought her despair and pain, after all, and so she fell to the worship of the Mother of Monsters. She burned down the old cathedral, killing Ezakien, then gathered several goblins and a handful of mercenaries to her cause and engineered a devastating attack on Sandpoint with the ultimate goal to offer the town as burned offerings to Lamashtu, only for her plans to be foiled by the original Heroes of Sandpoint. Her death saved Sandpoint from devastation, but what few in Sandpoint truly realized was that they had contributed to the tragedy themselves. Had Nualia been treated well, things might have turned out differently both for her and the town itself.
"And that brings us to today. Over the past seventeen years, I’ve done much thinking on poor Nualia, as she didn’t deserve the fate she got. I’m certainly not justifying her actions, but I wish it never came to that sort of situation in the first place. That I only came to town after the fire that took my predecessor’s life is no excuse—all of those who worship Desna should know better and treat the children of the world more kindly. My predecessor’s failure to be a father figure is in part what caused Nualia’s fall, but the people of Sandpoint were no help in how they treated her as something less than human—something fit only to soften their own fears, or something to jealously covet.
“After her defeat, the least I could do was see to it that she got a proper burial here in town. Some folks blanched at the idea, but I’m glad that most of us were more understanding and forgiving. Only, I feel like it’s not enough. Nualia needs to know we’ve forgiven her... she needs to know that I have forgiven her. She doesn’t deserve an afterlife of torment—her life was torment enough."
Abstalar pauses to gauge your reactions to his concerns and observations.
"Hmmph," Wherby grunts in assent. He certainly remembered how the town treated Nualia. He hadn't participated -- but maybe he hadn't done enough to stop it. Too busy with his own things, but at what point does simply looking away make one complicit? Maybe she would have made a decent apprentice, not that he was in a position to have one of those at that point (he is now, he supposes; he just doesn't want -- or have! -- one).
"So you want to hire some adventurers to head into hell to tell her? That's a fine idea. I'm sure I can prepare some medicine for them," he offers.
The sweet tea offered to the group by Father Alphabet must've triggered an acidic reaction in Wherby. At least, that's Ximble's take on what just happened. "Are you confusing the scent of cinnamon with that of brimstone? Yes, he's buttering us up, but we ought to be thankful for that. When was the last time someone bothered to butter you up, Wherby? And we won't be counting that ghoul's culinary intentions with your hams! Here's an honest opportunity to right a wrong, to dab our brush in the ink swell of destiny, and write what's right."
Ximble says all that, but the honest truth is that just like Wherby, he has no clue how they'd go about doing that. Perhaps the Father has a plan. He, after all, called them here. Surely he has a plan!
"So say we say yes, and I imagine we'll be saying yes, I mean, I've been saying yes aplenty for us already, what's the plan?"
Herok frowned. He had been far too young to really know much about Nualia before the Heroes of Sandpoint foiled her planned attack on the town - and even then, he barely knew anything. Still, he had eventually learned that her life had been hard when she lived in Sandpoint. Aloud, he said, "Delivering such a message to her in the afterlife sounds quite noble, but I'm not entirely certain how we can help with that. I believe there is magic that would let you speak with her spirit in the afterlife, but I don't know any of it off the top of my head."
Abstalar nods. “Well, I’ve only spoken of this with one other—a friend named Audrahni. Nualia’s been dead for nearly two decades, but time does not pass the same for the dead as it does for the living. Audrahni knows a ritual that can put us in contact with the spirits of the dead and, in her latest letter, she told me she’s willing to perform this ritual here when next she visits, so that I can offer Nualia my apologies and forgive her. I don’t know if that will be enough to help her, or to stave off an afterlife of torment, but I do know that if nothing is done, Sandpoint will have failed her yet again.
“Here’s where the complication comes in. In order for Audrahni’s ritual to succeed, we need a physical link to Nualia’s soul. It’s been years, and any of her belongings are long gone now, which leaves only her mortal remains. As loath as I was to exhume her body, it was necessary to the ritual, to giving her my forgiveness. But when we opened her grave, we made an awful discovery. Her coffin was empty—tunneled into from below, so that when we reached it, the whole grave caved in. Naffer and I were fortunate enough to escape without much harm, but now there’s a hole where her grave used to be—a hole that leads to an underground tunnel below the boneyard.”
Objections, so many darn objections! Ximble can't believe what he hears! Every opportunity to interject in A-Z's story is spurned by yet another mind-blowing twist. The dark tale has so many twists and turns that when Ximble's moment to speak comes, he's too dizzy to respond other than with a singular utterance of astonishment. "Wow."
The whole story is altogether too much of a Wyrdsmith thing. Devoid of color as are most things death, and then tainted by a splotch of darkness as poor Nualia's corpse has gone missing. Oh, and Ximble learned that the romance in necromancer has nothing to do with passion. Well, not in the sense that he likes it. "You know, I'm something of a tracker, Father ... "
"Ah, an underground adventure! Sorry, Mr. Crick, I know you hate having to squeeze through muddy passages," Tekmin seems warm to the prospect. "Are there other graves that were robbed, or was this a targeted theft? And did the excavation seem very old?"
“The subsidence, the claw marks on the underside of the coffin, the missing body, and the tunnel it opens into all suggest ghouls to me. They must have burrowed up from below to rob her grave,” Abstalar says.
“Ghouls have been a problem in the region for decades, although not so much in recent years. I suppose I grew a bit complacent, but at the same time, they know how to hide and avoid leaving traces. By not tunneling in areas of the graveyard that are in more frequent use, and by backfilling those they defile, ghouls can go unnoticed for ages. Had I waited a few weeks more, no doubt they would have backfilled Nualia’s grave as well, leaving me with a mysterious empty coffin but nowhere obvious to go from there, but that says to me that the theft’s recent enough that her remains might still be recoverable.”
Ghouls! Of course it had to be ghouls. The whole thing reeks of ghastly ghoulishness, after all.
Ximble nods intently when Father Alphabet shares the dirty deets. He chews on each mouthful of information, hoping to stumble upon a truth that might help them with the pursuit of Nualia's remains. "Interesting. The moment you feel the urge to help Nualia is the very moment her remains turn out to be in need of rescuing. This adds further impetus to my conviction we ought to act, Wherby. Will you go with us, down the ghoul hole? Time seems to be of the essence, and that slippery bastard is running away from us with every bite we take from these delicious sausage rolls."
With that said, Ximble takes one last bite of the blessed food. Blessed, heh, it must be because they're in a cathedral. "I must compliment you on your hospitality, Father A. Perhaps were the ghouls to hear of it, they'd come to church more often. And they'd stop eating people ..."
Ghouls, then. Well, it wasn't their first encounter with such things. They couldn't leave them unchecked, though - who knew what kind of threat to the town these ghouls could be if left alone. "I'd be glad to help, Father Zantus. If the ghouls are brazen enough to come this far into town, even underground, then they need to be stopped before they decide to go after the living instead of just corpses."
"Hmph, if I must. In my day, though, there were proper adventurers to take care of problems like this! Ever since that dratted Ameiko took off with no word of warning, it's like none of them come here anymore."
"Will you go with us, down the ghoul hole?"
Abstalar shakes his head. "I'm an old man. My dungeon crawling days are far behind me. But I am willing to provide healing and other magical support to you at no cost in return for your service, as well as 75 gp for each of you. In addition, I have prepared some items to help you."
The priest gives you a care package containing four lesser healing potions, four lesser antiplagues, two salves of antiparalysis, and six vials of holy water.
"I would like you to explore the tunnels and determine how extensive they are. If there are indeed ghouls lurking below, destroy them before they can become a more severe threat to the town. If you can find Nualia’s remains, return them—if not to serve as a focus the ritual, then at least simply to be able to put her back to rest."
Ximble raises a hand to the others as if to say they'd be crazy to refuse such an amazing offer when Father Alphabet promises them a staggering amount of gold in return for helping him out. No, for helping out Sandpoint.
He waits for Wherby to finish his inner monologue and prays the man convinces himself that helping Father A-Z is the right thing to do.
"No one deserves to have their remains eaten by ghouls. Let's flush them out now before this problem gets any worse." Tekmin is reacdy to lead the way into the tunnel.
Wherby grunts. "Well, I guess someone has to make sure these three don't just kill themselves. Not sure why we couldn't get proper adventurers for this, but I suppose I owe it to Nualia too ..."
When you are ready to go, Abstalar leads you out into the boneyard behind the cathedral. Nualia was buried near the western end of the boneyard, not far from the cathedral itself, in a spot set apart from the bulk of the other graves (out of respect for the many townsfolk who balked at the idea of burying who they considered to be a supernatural criminal too close to “respectable graves”). He’s had Naffer rig a frame and a tarp over the open grave to prevent visitors from stumbling into it.
"May Desna smile upon your venture," he says. "If you do find yourselves in over your heads, then don't hesitate to beat a hasty retreat back here. I'll be ready to help with healing as necessary."
The open grave leads to a cramped, four-foot-tall tunnel dug through hard-packed earth and clay. The walls are supported by bracing made of wood that appears to have been scavenged from coffins, driftwood, and shipwreck salvage. Faint smudges and scrapes track through the dirt, leading south.
Wherby looks around, but is more focused on the sudden appearance of his strange pet: a house-cat-sized bear-like beast with a pair of antlers. It glares at Tekmin, defying the halfling to try to pet it. Again! Wherby sighs. This is going to be a disaster.
"Well! Look who decided to show up," Tekmin sniffs at the standoffish ursine creature. "I don't suppose you're here to be helpful, are you?" The halfling shakes his head.
"Don't worry, Mr. Crick, some people are ready to contribute." With that pronouncement, Tekmin draws his trusty frying pan and slips in to the tunnel.
Herok clambers down the hole, clearly better sized for Tekmin or Ximble than himself. Still, he's able to avoid disturbing the signs of the creatures who stole Nualia's corpse. "Interesting," he said. "Her body appears to have been stolen by several smaller creatures, roughly the size of Tekmin or Ximble. The last ghouls we saw were more human-sized."
Ximble doesn't have to kneel down to inspect the tracks. Sometimes it pays to be short. Or, tall for a gnome, but still short when considering the bigger picture. It's when Herok concludes that the creatures who took the bodies are the size of X and T that Ximble really has to figure out who and what took the body.
"Goblins! Wait, might we be dealing with ghoulish goblins?! The plot ... thickens. Going by what wood they used to 'construct' this here tunnel, they might live near or along the beach. Not that that narrows it down when in Sandpoint ..."
Wooden timbers are spaced evenly throughout this six-foot-high room, supporting a network of beams above to give the cave-like chamber support. The walls and floor bear evidence of having been dug out of the clay and soil by clawed hands. Several large, flat boulders have been left in place protruding from the floor to serve as tables—tables strewn with gnawed bones. Additional stacks of soggy, stained lumber lie in alcoves to the northeast. The smell of earth mixed with decay lingers in the air.
Six goblin ghouls are here, sitting near the tables and conversing in low voices. Once they spot you, the goblin ghouls leap to their feet, hissing and capering in excitement. Long tongues protrude from their mouths as they lick their lips and begin to scamper towards you!
The ghouls are upon you before you can react. Because of the shape of the tunnel, only four of them can get to Ximble, but they bite and claw at the gnome with gusto!
"Get back, you fiends!"
Tekmin knows that ghouls are not technically fiends, but "terrible ravenous monstrosities" is a real mouthful.
He swings on all of the creatures, hoping to clear them away.
for
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He waves the pan warningly at the remaining creatures.
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HP 40/40
AC 18
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +10
Hero points: 1
Focus Points: 1/2
Spells prepped: 1st: ill omen [], phantasmal minion [], soothe []; 2nd: blood vendetta [],paranoia [],paranoia []
Cantrips: daze, detect magic, ignition, guidance (innate), shield, telekinetic projectile
Effects:
"Ximble!" Wherby cries. "Blast it, this is why we need adventurers!"
As Ursividae ambles forward -- though still staying behind the gnome -- Wherby glowers at the nearest goblin ghoul.
Beset by more tongues than Ximble cares for - the gods must've heard me talking about wanting to get buttered up, oh no! - the gnome shifts his focus to a single foe and smashes away at him. Somewhere in between striking at the ghoulish goblin, Ximble manages to heal himself.
With Ximble having taken several blows and a veritable swarm of ghoulish goblins attacking, them, Herok held forth his bow and uttered a prayer, "Erastil, bring forth thy life energy to heal those who suffer injury and those who feed upon undeath." A burst of vital energy emanated from him, healing some of Ximble's wounds and washing over the goblins.
Herok's blast of vital energy ripples through the ghouls, burning their impure, rotting flesh! Wherby curses one of the least injured ghouls with an ill omen. Tekmin's first swing narrowly misses, but his second one connects, smashing one of the goblin ghouls' skull in! As it falls, Ximble fumbles his own attack, but manages to patch up his wounds.
One of the ghouls that had been hanging back swiftly leaps forward to fill the space left behind by its fallen brethren. The ghouls attack, two going after Tekmin and two targeting Ximble.
"Stand still! You're going to Pharasma one way or another any way!!"
HP 40/40
AC 18
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +10
Hero points: 1
Focus Points: 1/2
Spells prepped: 1st: ill omen [x], phantasmal minion [], soothe []; 2nd: blood vendetta [],paranoia [],paranoia []
Cantrips: daze, detect magic, ignition, guidance (innate), shield, telekinetic projectile
Effects:
"Hmmph!" Wherby growls, casting a pair of quick spells as he stands there with arms crossed glowering at the melee in front of him.
Ursividae looks for a place to Hide.
"Arg! Get offa me!" Telkin grunts. He looks for more skulls to bash.
for
for
Reactive Strike
for
Herok shifts his feet, setting them in a stance as he draws forth an arrow, fitting it to the string of his bow, and starts firing at one of the goblins attacking Tekmin and Ximble.
Herok’s first arrow impales a ghoul in the head, taking it down! He wounds another ghoul with his second shot, softening it up for Tekmin to dispatch with a fatal frying pan finisher! Ximble’s first swing goes wide, but his second slays another ghoul!
Two foes remain, one of which Wherby hexes. That one attacks Ximble, managing to bite the gnome before the mental anguish from the hex overwhelms it! As it falls, the last goblin ghoul leaps at Tekmin, who manages to dodge!
A few moments later, another goblin ghoul emerges from an adjoining chamber. This one is slightly taller than most goblins and wears patchwork leather armor adorned with bones and teeth. In one hand, he clutches a wand made from a rib, the tip of which is adorned with a bird’s skull, lashed with sinew.
”Longshanks! In my warren? I’ll take you alive for Chief Ripnugget!” he shouts. He points the wand at Tekmin, filling him with fear!
Trusting Ximble and Tekmin to be able to finish off the final goblin ghoul in melee with them, Herok changes his aim to the goblin ghoul with a wand and, whispering a prayer to Erastil, looses an arrow at it. He then hefts his bow before him, the symbol of Erastil etched on it faintly glowing. Why does the name Ripnugget sound familiar?
Ximble focuses his efforts on the 'mere' goblin ghoul but aches to join Herok in taking down the new bigger and better challenger.
The spell sends a shiver up Tekmin's spine, but he's not too frightened, being an experienced warrior, and all.
He swings away at the goblin in front of him.
for
for
Wherby gives the nearest goblin ghoul the evil eye as he watches the fight in displeasure.
Herok's arrow merely grazes the goblin spellcaster. Ximble misses with his attacks, but Tekmin bashes the ghoul attacking him twice, taking it down. Only the spellcaster remains. Wherby gives him the evil eye, but the goblin resists the hex.
"Bah! Time for the big boom!" the goblin says, casting a spell and conjuring a cacophonous blast of noise! With another quick spell, he raises a magical shield in front of himself.
Herok winces slightly as the loud cacophany goes off on them, but he handles the worst of it pretty well, firing off a couple more arrows at the goblin before he again raises the symbol on his bow for protection.
One moment the world is so loud that Ximble's senses can't handle it and the next the world has gone completely silent. Discombobulated, Ximble reaches for a pair of bolas and throws it at the caster's ankles.
"Gah, my ears! Oh, that is it!" Fed up with the ghoulish goblin, Tekmin moves in and attacks.
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for
for
HP 29/40; Ursividae 15/20
AC 18
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +10
Hero points: 1
Focus Points: 1/2
Spells prepped: 1st: ill omen [x], phantasmal minion [], soothe []; 2nd: blood vendetta [], paranoia [], paranoia []
Cantrips: daze, detect magic, ignition, guidance (innate), shield, telekinetic projectile
Effects:
"Ah, my ears! Blast it!" Wherby cries as he reacts with a quick spell targeting the opposing spellcaster, then a spell of protection.
Ursividae retreats back behind Wherby.
Herok grazes the spellcaster with another arrow. Wherby's projectile goes wide. Xekmin manages to wrap his bolas around the goblin ghoul's legs, tripping him, but misses with the chakram. Tekmin moves in and bashes the ghoul with his frying pan!
"Gah! You'll pay for that!" the ghoul declares. He disentangles himself from the bolas and gets to his feet, then bites and claws at Tekmin. While Tekmin avoids the gnashing teeth, the ghoul's claw slashes at his belly!