Colin and Tad join Quenly in sapping the magical energy from the ritual. It grows notably weaker but does not dissipate entirely. The unbalanced forces reach a crescendo and pull every living and dead thing on the roof as well as hundreds of roof tiles and anything else lose into it.
There is an instant where the Pathfinders and their fallen enemy are vaporized, left as nothing more than particles in the air, particles cast across the Grand Lodge only to coalesce at the Wall of Names. You end up scattered across the lawn at the Wall of Names.
And, though you diminished the force of the energies greatly, it still damages you.
plus
As you become aware of yourselves again, you note Vahlo's helmet smash into the wall with an indignant Clang.
The crimson electricity swirls around it and rapidly rebuilds the undead creature, though things are obviously different. No longer does he appear as a tall human. Instead, he is clearly and undead halfling.
It all happens in only a few seconds as he is reconstructed.
"The final round and once I deal with you, I'll start the ritual again and finish this place! You were lucky last time!" Vahlo declares.
Vahlo avoids the worst of the bright light, but his bragging proves to be nothing more than bluster again as Flyn almost perfectly duplicates his previous feat of legendary archery.
The undead halfling opens his rotted mouth, either to protest or threaten or defy but no sound comes out and he crumples once more. His body begins to crumble slowly.
Colin recognizes that what they thought was human man was actually a halfling graveknight. Graveknights are creatures that resurrect so long as any piece of their armor survives. And this fiendish creature has incorporated the Triple Spire Helm, an artefact level item into his armor. Until it is destroyed he will just keep coming back.
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"The helm is indeed rumored to be artifact, so it's really difficult to destory. Hypothetically, throwing this and the whole suit of armor into positive energy plane should almost instant kill him whenever he return to his unlife? Either case, it is not something our druids can deal with unfortunately. That being said, we Society have many experience destroying artifacts, and when our comrades return from Gallowspire, we should be able to figure something out collectively."
The answer to Flyn's first question is not forthcoming, but almost as though he'd been summoned, Grandmaster Torch arrives along one of the trails to the Wall of Names. Unlike the previous times you've likely met him, Torch’s burn scars are much less severe and his eyes glow faintly with green energy.
Carrying a bow, wearing a glowing green jewel around his neck, and showing signs of having fought numerous battles, Grandmaster Torch emerges near the Wall of Names with two beleaguered half-orc bodyguards in chainmail. The infamous information broker quickly examines the scene before tossing his bow aside. “Hold! Whether you consider me friend or foe, I am not here to fight, nor do I intend to flee. Stay your attacks until our common enemy is defeated; he is fallen but not gone.” Torch motions to the Decemvirate helm. “You know what we’re dealing with, what must be done?”
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"Torch! Didn't know you're a bowman youself, welcome to the gang, but I'm afraid you're late to the party."
To answer Torch's question, "Yes and No. We know that Vahlo is a graveknight with this artifact helmet as part of his armor. But since we're merely venture-captains at best and no wizards, we don't currently have a way to destory it. Since you hate the Decemvirate so much and rightfully so I guess, do you know how to destroy the helm?"
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Reacting quickly, Flyn turns at first glance of the newcomers, bringing his bow to bear…seeing Torch, he lowers his bow. ”While we may not approve of all your methods, your breadcrumbs led us here…without such, no telling how much damage would’ve been done. We will not harm you…”
Upon hearing the Grandmaster’s query, he responds, ”Aye…well, sort of…we know the undead bastard’s helm must be destroyed lest he become reincarnated, again…but we know not how to accomplish that. Pray tell, do you?”
"You're correct in what you know," Grandmaster Torch confirms. "And here's the part that you don't: I've done extensive research on the Decimvirate and those helmets. Though they talk of cooperating, they are insular and the helmets which are symbols of their office reflect that, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
"Having too many people wear it in quick succession, diminishes that singularity and shatters the enchantments that bind them. If we each put it on, it will lose its magic and break, and that will put an end to Vahlo once and for all."
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"Does that mean we can rule out the possibility of the Decemvirate being ten-headed monsters?" Colin jokes
"Well, if we need body, I can call out cyclops and a bunch more elementals to wear it in succession. What's the catch though? " Colin looks at Torch, anticipating that there's more to what he said as always.
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Flyn nods. ”That’s good enough for me…best we do this ourselves…there are 4 of us…and then you, Grandmaster Torch, can complete the circle, so to speak, if you don’t mind…I’ll go first…”
He’ll take the helmet, put it on…and, if nothing catastrophic happens, he’ll remove it and pass it on to Quenly (who’ll do the same and pass it on to the next person)…
"No, though it may seem like it sometimes, the Decemvirate is no metaphorical hydra. Just a group of men and women with varying goals and morals and too much power," Torch replies. "Your suspicion is warranted, and an admirable trait, but there is no catch this time. Believe it or not, this is the goal I've been working toward for years."
He watches with eager eyes as each of the Pathfinders dons then removes the helmet and pauses, taking in the moment before putting it on himself. When he takes it off, there are several tense moments when nothing happens and his hopeful expression turns into a scowl.
Then it suddenly cracks then falls to pieces in his hands, the shards raining down on the ground at his feet.
Torch sighs and at last expresses his fatigue from years on the run, operating from the shadows.
“This is where it ends,” Torch announces, while removing several rings and tossing them onto the ground. “So many years ago, I joined the Society and did the Decemvirate’s bidding, only to be betrayed and abandoned rather than have the leaders admit wrongdoing.” He unclasps his cloak and unbuckles a bandolier of potions, adding them to the pile. “I worked independently after that, as you know, trying to change the Society through the Shadow Lodge.” He grunts derisively while upending a belt pouch containing spell components, a half-dozen tub-shaped feather tokens, and an ivory statue of himself. “Lost control of those rebels, I admit, but the new Shadow Lodge that resulted? What a magnificent thing that was! Together, we stood to reform the Society from within!” He punctuates this point by dropping his quiver and discarding a leather case brimming with scrolls. “Until I realized that all the progress we seemed to make ceased the moment the Decemvirate took an interest.” He unceremoniously adds his sword to the growing hoard of magic items.
“I’m a suspicious man, and I admit I jumped too swiftly to blaming the Decemvirate. Yet, when the opportunity came to discover their identities, I took it. My old nemesis Dorianna Ouidda had secured the names, yet even she had yet to piece together Vahlo’s motivations. But I recognized him from the tales, recognized what his presence might mean, and knew what he would do to anyone who stood a chance of knowing his true identity. I killed Dorianna, I publicly betrayed the Society, and I no doubt disappointed many of you. It was the only way I saw in the moment to deflect blame from the Pathfinder agents and take it on myself, becoming in the Decemvirate’s eyes the villain they always assumed I would become. And to be fair, it worked for those agents; instead of an inquisition, the Grand Lodge reached out with an olive branch and special training. I couldn’t bear to see Vahlo wipe out the agents who placed their faith in me, even if I had to break their faith to save them from that fate.”
Torch sheds the last of his equipment except for armor and his amulet, plus a candle and tindertwig held in his hands. “For old time’s sake,” he notes with a wry chuckle as he lights the candle and balances it on the ground before concluding. “Since then, I’ve done everything I can to unmask Vahlo in a way that the Decemvirate couldn’t laugh off. I’ve stolen, spied, and even warmongered to that end, but at last the worst of the Ten has fallen. And by now my agents have finished carrying off enough evidence implicating two of the other Decemvirate that I suspect they’ll flee the Society once those documents come to light.
“I’ve done what I came to do. I’ve finished what I set out to accomplish. What I’ve done, I’ve always done for the Pathfinder Society and its agents. But that’s not for me to judge. I’ll answer any of your questions, and I’ll submit to your judgment. If I am to live or die, let it be the decision of true Pathfinders, not the Ten.”
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Colin put down his bow. "Without condoning... or condemning. I understand."
"Despite what happened here, not every Pathfinder will know or understand what happened, and not all of them will accept or forgive you, Torch. You already know that." he says solemnly, "But my Rosenthal Lodge will always welcome you as a true Pathfinder."
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Flyn listens intently, smiling at the end. ”You are free to go as far as I’m concerned; with the information you had, you acted as you thought best. Not saying I’d have done the exact same in your position but I would’ve done something similar, methinks…
“You have saved the Pathfinders from catastrophe; you are welcome at my campfire anytime, my friend. And if you have need of quick, or discreet, travel, the Voracious is at your service…
“So, with your business concluded, what will you do with all your free time now, sir?”
True to his word, Grandmaster Torch is ready to live or die by your hands. When it becomes apparent that you do not intend to kill him, he shows neither gratitude nor despair, simply weary surprise.
"Your kindness and mercy only tells me that I am right in believing that the Decemvirate need to be replaced by agents such as yourselves," he says.
"Though I cannot defend the results of all my actions, I can't say I would have changed any of my decisions. I was always working for what I thought was best for the Society and the world.
"“I’ve spent years on the run and planning for today. I rarely gave what would follow any thought. It’s tempting to just retire somewhere warm and relax for once.”
He gives you each a final nod of thanks and approval then takes his leave.
You are left to your own devices for a time in the fading chaos filling the Grand Lodge before Eliza Petulengro's reinforcements arrive.
Two Decemvirate members pull to the side, and thank you for your profound service to the Society.
One of these Decemvirate members is a woman, you have seen only via an illusion as before. She wears the same heavily decorated ivory mask that she wore in her previous conversation with you. The other Decemvirate member wears a mask of whorled black mesh that wraps the head like a tangle of thorns. They speak with a carefully generic Absalom accent and a voice of middle pitch devoid of suggestions of gender.
"Can you tell us what happened?" the one in the ivory mask asks.
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"Your colleague is a graveknight with an artifact as part of his armor, and was doing some terrible ritual that may or may not blow up the Grand Lodge," Colin points to the pieces of the helm, "not that it matters to Flyn's bow and arrows. Thanks to Grandmaster Torch who discovered graveknight's identity, we were able to come back in time to put a stop to Vahlo's evil plan."
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Flyn nods in agreement with Colin.
”Aye, Vahlo was an undead agent of the Whispering Tyrant all this time, right under our noses. Thanks to the formerly ’disgraced’ Pathfinder agents, Torch and Eylysia, we were able to stop Vahlo from completing the ritual that would’ve handed over the Grand Lodge to his master. Torch also mentioned his agents have evidence to implicate two other of the Ten. With respect, you should really better vet whom you allow into the Decemvirate, this could’ve been catastrophic…”
He lets out a long sigh. ”We also made a command decision; we let Torch go, we owed him that much. Besides, the one who ordered us to assassinate Torch was Vahlo himself; thus, we did not feel compelled to follow thru on his orders,” Flyn says as he smirks…
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The two Decemvirate members seem to take your report with equanimity, though perhaps that is just the masks.
The Decemvirate member in a mask of whorled black mesh steps forward, “With Vahlo’s destruction comes the destruction of his helm, an irreplaceable artifact. And with it, the Ten would become Nine. So much has changed in the Decemvirate in just a decade—in spirit and in composition. It seems fitting that its organization should change as well to reflect its purged evils and a new era with new leadership.”
She takes her helm in both hands and removes it, her features resolving into those of Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro. “It was the bravery of Pathfinders like you who convinced the Decemvirate to accept me as one of their own. It’s past time I honor their courage by serving the Society as an open member of the Decemvirate.”
“It is a bold move to become Unmasked,” observes the ivorymasked Decemvirate member. “You are weaker without the artifact, and we are already weakened by becoming nine.”
“You’re missing the point,” Eliza remarks. “What the Decemvirate needs most is new talent, courage, insight, and initiative.” She nods to the gathered Pathfinders and holds out her helm. “I know that someone will rise to the challenge.”
The ivory-masked figure chuckles warmly. “I doubt you’ll ever cease to surprise me, Eliza.” She turns toward the assembled Pathfinders. “Any one of you would be worthy of joining our ranks and helping us ensure that nothing like this ever happens again. What say you?”
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"Does this spell you invented works on yourself when you have the mask on?" Colin asks the Venture-Captain
"Does this spell you invented works on yourself when you have the mask on?" Colin asks the Venture-Captain
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The Pathfinders reach for the helm and a new era for the Society begins...