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Don Jurri swirls his glass with a wrist-flick or two, puckers his lips, sips daintily at first, then with a tempered restraint of barely increased gusto, finally gently tosses the remainder of the fruity fluid back into his gullet, awaiting the aftertaste, attenuating himself to the palate of the cocktail fully.
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"If by nosy you mean concerned, why then yes, I accept the judgement made against my character" not letting the sleight slide, Don Jurri uses his silver-tongue to unfathomably twist it into a compliment "Quite astute I find your perception to be. No doubt expertly honed over your many years watching the fine patrons of this upstanding establishment" with a single finger, he wipes a line of dust from a nearby sill, pinches it with another to disperse it "As my comrade's curiosity impels him to query, indeed, it is one that is shared by the group, for you can easily remember, we are yet of flesh virile and vital, unaccustomed to dealing with hunger for that of our nearest mate:" hiding his disgust and distrust behind a veneer of overconfidence "What affliction does take the ghoulish pallor if it isn't receiving proper sustenance? Hopefully no malady of both physical and mental import!"
Punctuating his question, our chivalric hero's left-side and right-side mustache wriggle like a see-saw.
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Kernal Klank remains fairly silent, refusing the drink while on mission "A very nice place you have here." Mostly Klank's mind churns, connecting Gessa's lack of eating normal food and what the others said about monk's that consume someone's breath while they sleep. God's that's creepy!
In his mind he's already come to a final conclusion, the rest of this is just a formality. They need to confront her sooner than later.
The team manages to drink the concoction without trouble. The drink is very sweet, almost sickeningly so. The wait staff pour another round as Lord Calendrieu's smile grows even more.
"Almost everyone here is a ghoul. The seafaring creatures like Captain Barnacle Barubary and his first mate Dead Doug are lacedons, very similar but good swimmers." Argoni's fish and chips are served and they are surprisingly flavorful. He recognizes the sword fish the Captain caught for them.
"Everyone must deal with hunger, on one way or another." Walsam adjusts his hat. "For the residents of Deadhaven, we must consume living flesh. We are fortunate to have found the Feast of the Faithful. It was one of your Pathfinders, Dradle Dreng, who suggested this method. Much better than wasting away, spending your last moments in agony. Or even worse, turning feral and attacking innocents. Not my style." He grimaces.
"I am concerned for Ghessa's well-being. If she hasn't been eating then she may lose her second life, or lose control and lash out at us. Every week I host the Feast of the Faithful, and I hear many stories and experience art, passion, verve! Life itself! If Ghessa can see more of this, realize she can be accepted, then I've done my job."
"At any rate, the staff are preparing fish and chips for all of you. And I need to tidy up some of the rooms. It's been a while since we've had long-term guests who need to sleep!"
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”How do you know that they aren’t…” Don Jurri struggles with the concept of eating flesh that is “alive” but somehow “not” at the same time - quite simply, it sounds too good to be true ”At the Feast - is there a butcher? Do you lay the body on a buffet table? Perhaps there is a line and one at a time?” he tries to anticipate the innkeepers evasion of his question ”Nosy. Yes. I realize the question may be impertinent, but you must understand my reticence to simply accept the odd situation” smiles ”How is it that you have your cake and eat it to?” too late to realize the irony as he gnashes oily fish flesh with his own incisors…
"We haven't had to deal with too many outsiders." Lord Walsam Calendrieu orders some water for you. "If there's one advantage to our ghoulish reputation, it's that troublemakers stay away. They think we'll eat them as punishment or something." He rolls his eyes.
"Feral ghouls are... unfortunate. It's one reason I keep the tavern open. We need a reason to keep going, as I put it. Music, painting, writing, acting... these keep us busy. We have all the time we need to make our impact. Some have gone into architecture. It's easy to rebuild and redesign homes when you don't need to rest."
"But sometimes people come to us filled with regret over what they did during their second life on the way to Deadhaven." Lord Walsam grows sullen. "Some still bear the burden from their first life, or shame over how they came to be. I fear Ghessa is still dealing with herself. We do have guards and they are quite skilled at... stopping feral ghouls before they cause too much damage. It's not like they can infect us, so it's much safer."
"I know Marcon said he would be at the Mayor's office today. He's seen so much in Deadhaven he probably knows about some of the... anomalies... I haven't heard from, haha! You may be able to ask him for more information."
After eating your meal, you take a moment to compare notes.
- Marcon Tinol says he found 5 sailors dead in a cove on the island. You located one of their bodies and realized their breath was stolen while they slept. There is a kind of undead who feast upon the living in this way.
- The bodies in the cove were dragged into a small dingy, and likely brought onto a larger ship.
- Ghessa says she arrived to Deadhaven 2 months ago a few months ago, crawling out of the shipwreck of Besmara's Fury. But this ship sank over 5 years ago, and was moved here a few days ago. Her story doesn't make sense.
- You were able to decode Ghessa's journal, where she is focused on who enters and leaves the Crypt of the Vibrant Dead.
- Ghessa's journal also states she is searching for a "Dead God's Artifact" and she expects to be rewarded by "K"
- Ghessa also says some sailor is in love with her and is following her orders.
- Lord Walsam says Ghessa doesn't eat during the Feast of the Faithful. It's consistent enough he thinks she is starving herself and is worried for her safety.
You may not be able to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt, but you may have enough information to make Ghessa a suspect. It would help Marcon's position and perhaps convince the mayor to act.
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Concealing his dueling pistol in the breast pocket of his blouse, Don Jurri goes to confront the mayor!
"From the look of things, Ghessa appears to be suspect, but as we all know, things aren't always as they seem" pinching his mustache with finger, he looks between the Mayor, Dead Doug, and back "Why blackball our comrade Marcon Tinol from procuring sufficient evidence that threatens the very existence of the Town you claim lordship over?" his tone accusatory "Let me guess: 'You don't want to create panic' - is this the line that you would feed me? Fool!" his tone grows to condescending now "We must fight the Whispering Way not with whispers, but with our voices loud! Let your people know of the Existential Threat that besets them!! Give them something to fight for!!!" keeping his eye on Dead Doug "Or reveal your true colors now! Tell me how far the conspiracy unwinds. Is he in on it?" pointing to Dead Doug "What was offered you? Command of this Naval Base for the Tyrant's forces? Is that what you will do with your unlife?" Don Jurri removes his glove, imagining himself some romantic hero of yore "Here then!" and goes over and slaps her gently across the cheek with it "Let us settle this like men!"
In true Taldan fashion!
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Argoni finishes laying out what they have found. "Uh, like Don is saying, we believe there's merit to Ghessa being involved in this, and being tied to the Whispering Way. At the very least, it would be prudent to question her. Um, but only her. Unless you know of someone whose name begins with 'K' that she might be connected to."
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Argoni finishes laying out what they have found. "Uh, like Don is saying, we believe there's merit to Ghessa being involved in this, and being tied to the Whispering Way. At the very least, it would be prudent to question her. Um, but only her. Unless you know of someone whose name begins with 'K' that she might be connected to."
He leans over to Don Jurri to whisper to him. "Psst. The Cake is a lie. It always is."
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Endra stands by uncomfortably as the Don levels his accusations at the mayor and Dead Doug. Her expression keeps shifting between nervous laughter and slight resignation (because, she did see the glance these two shared earlier, and there has to be something to it!).
Finally she gathers herself and stiffens up to level an intimidating glare at the pair.
It might not be working...
Captain Barubary greets you. "Hey, did you like the swordfish? Told the mayor you'd be coming soon-" but Don Jurri will not be distracted! Marcon, Dead Doug and Mayor Tecarasta are discussing the weekly supply as Don Jurri makes his case.
The slap silences the room, right before Captain Barubary bursts into laughter. "He's got some spirit in him, mayor! Don't drink it all in one gulp!"
Dead Doug simply grunts and Marcon stammers. "Ah, yes. As you can see, the Pathfinders take these investigation v-very seriously!"
The Mayor simply raises her hand to get some control. "You have more accusations than Marcon. I guarantee you there are Crusaders of Pharasma who are looking for an excuse, any excuse, to eliminate us. I am certainly not going to harbor the Tyrant's forces and give them that excuse. IF Ghessa is suspicious, then you must have found evidence..." She subconsciously rubs her cheek as Argoni goes into more detail.
Marcon, the Mayor and the Captain have a short gasp when Aerin mentions a kurobozu. "Are you certain?" The Mayor's neutral face quickly grows with concern. "It would explain why she doesn't participate in the Feast of the Faithful. Ghessa is so interested in the Crypt of the Vibrant Dead, it's the only thing that seems to interest her."
"Captain. I need you to escort them through the Crypt. Ghessa had requested access to the innermost depths. Some residents with to become religious scholars, so I gave her permission to do research. But perhaps she is up to something. Marcon, I hope I do not owe you an apology, but you may be right."
Marcon can't help but smile, but he doesn't respond. Captain Barubary, meanwhile gives an exaggerated salute. "Yes mayor! Right away mayor!" He turns to Dead Doug. "Hey Doug! Keep watch on the Mayor and Tinol. And no naval adventures with the Tyrant, alright?" Dead Doug exhales deeply in response.
Once you finish your explanations, the Captain leaves with you as the others remain in the office. "Looks like the great Captain Barnacle Barubary will be your tour guide. Just tell me when you're ready. We don't know what's in the innermost depths so keep your eyes peeled for danger!" He pats the scimitar at his hip.
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Klank keeps his eyes and ears at the ready for signs of a setup. This place is good cheery and full of undead to be straight laced. "I'm ready as always."
Not that he's going to show the undead his tools of the trade, but most are pretty obvious. Klank wears a pair of shields, one being quick sturdy. On his belt hangs a very hefty and heavy warhammer, along with a few lighter throwing hammers. His body of course is covered nearly head to toe in plated steel.
Kernal Klank takes a good look at Dead Doug and the Mayor, but their undead features confound him. He isn't able to get a good read on them. Endra senses a worry and concern, especially when they glance at the Captain. He doesn't seem to notice their watchful eye.
You complete preparations and meet him next a mural of the sun's daybreak breaching the moon. Or is it the moon engulfing the sun's daylight? It's ambiguous. "We got plenty of torches down there, so light shouldn't be a problem. Scholars show up occasionally just to look at the Crypt, so we keep the lights on. Easy way to get some money off of tourism."
Not too far from the town lies a massive mausoleum. Along the long hall of white marble and granite, golden decorations venerate a multitude of Golarion’s deities. Throughout the long hall, small piles of keepsakes and books open to long lost passages line the walls.
"Welcome to the Crypt of the Vibrant Dead. The residents of Deadhaven honor those who provide us with food and their memory. We leave small keepsakes and books here as thanks." Captain Barubarby's humor fades as he turns solemn. "The crypt is below." He pulls open a set of double doors to reveal the golden eye of Aroden leading to a 10 foot wide stairwell.
Lit from within with an ambient light that emulates mid- afternoon daylight, this long chamber is quiet with divine purpose. The polished granite and marble surfaces reflect the room’s inherent light throughout, leaving no room for shadow. Alcoves along the south wall house veiled bodies garbed in white and gold robes adorned with gold medallions. The walls opposite are engraved with gold embellished lettering and pictographs. A wide stairwell leads toward a pair of ritual alcoves with golden icons of a smiling Azlanti human offering succor to those that view the statues.
“Here, below the Celebration of the Vibrant Dead, we come to what is known as the Crypt of the Vibrant Dead—them Arodenites were so original with their names. Regardless, thar she blows! Each of them alcoves holds an old seadog, them what we feed on, bit by bit. Don’t you worry, friends. I thought I was three sheets to the wind when I saw it too. Y’see, each bit we partake fills our bellies for a good long time, but fills our minds with the memories of the souls what we feed on. Makes us part of the story, as Lord Walsam says. But here’s the rub, somehow when we finished with one, another appeared to take their place. Even Tinol couldn’t find a mechanism that made it happen!” Captain Barnaby narrates like a practiced tour guide.
The west wall has a large statue. Each alcove on the south wall houses a single Arodenite, preserved in some kind of peaceful repose thanks to long lost divine magic.
The writing on the wall opposite is in ancient Azlanti.
You can make a DC 17 Religion check and open the spoiler below.
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"Atrocious, I know. That is why they have been gaslighting us into thinking everything is caviar!" though the metaphor is unpolitic, our unapologetically Taldan's point stands on it's own - he proceeds to badger the intelligence of his own party, as if positioning his intellect above the barbarians in a back-handed beneficent manner, his tone mockingly patronizing "Am I not the only one to take issue with the cruel joke and injustice? How can one even be 'neither alive, nor dead, nor undead'!?!" raising his eyebrow starkly as his mustache wriggles with agitated animation "And now! No back when I challenge the mayor - and now we are led down here - a Red Herring - to be slain and silenced!"
He smiles at the good captain "Fortunately, it just so happens that I am perhaps the greatest living fencer" he wheels on heels to his party once more, this time with arrogant reassurance "I will keep you all alive until such a time as you all finally come to your senses"
Dismissing himself, he goes on to berate his hireling about 'making sure to map the caverns' fully knowing that the task is logistically difficult and the man is ill-prepared materially to acquiesce!
This small room is devoid of any obvious light sources yet seems lit from within. The walls and floor are made of a hewn, polished granite that reflects every scene and sound with divine quality.
Only a set of stairs to the east descend out of this sparse chamber. Starting from the middle of the floor, dark rich earth covers the ground and tall hedges seem to grow out of the south wall. The south wall itself is hidden in shadow as the hedges lead to some oblivion beyond.
This is the same chamber you exited from when Marcon Tinol brought you to Deadhaven. It is unfurnished but well maintained.
If you critically succeed, open the spoiler below.
“O’course, me hearties, ye already know what this room is. I’d be telling you no tales to say this is that giant magical hedge maze that ye Pathfinders installed to get Tinol and some o’ his friends here to found Deadhaven in the first place. Not quite sure how it works, but I’ll be an old salt enough to know not to try to ply her seas without a lookout that knows her depths. But I suppose that’s why Arlandrie keeps the Rapscallion employed in the first place.” The Captain waits outside the entryway for you to finish taking a look.
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Endra gets a little nervous and self-conscious at the Don's rantings. She meagerly squeaks out
Well we had to explore this place anyway! Let's just figure everything out and when we have all of the evidence they won't be able to evade the truth any longer!
Satisfied with that reasoning, she looks around the current chamber, but isn't really trained in the arcane arts to know what to look for, or if anything would be off.
She starts to move towards the next room .
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"You seem to have forgotten the mightiest god of them all: the Great Knight Iomadae!" he points to the tableau with a critical eye "And that drunken fool, but, no loss there..." forgetting that the depiction is likely historically accurate, given how recently those deities ascended.
As his master looks to the Maze of the Open Road, and turns away, Dotty Smee points out "Lookee, sir. I believe you have missed something!"
"Ah I see! Like an anchor!" Dotty Smee exclaims.
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"Yes, Dotty Smee. Like an anchor. Should be somewhere in this crypt"
He looks at his crew "Well, don't just stand there" calling down the hall "Or fly out of the room you daft pixie" and back "Let's find the thingy-ma-whatzit!" and he starts feeling the walls with one gloved hand, the other holding his rapier, and always one eye on the good captain whom he suspects will gank them at any moment.
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Klank moves along with the group in relative silence, other than the constant clank of his armor and steel shields bouncing off each other, aand his steel shod boots across the floor. "Any idea what that 'anchor' should look like?" He moves around the room looking closely for anything that seems odd or out of place. Glowing runes would be helpful...
If there is an anchor, no one sees it in this room. The illusion of the Maze makes it look like the wall extends infinitely beyond the reach of your eyesight, yet you also notice the room is rectangular. Seems like you have to choose to enter the Maze or remain in the room.
Folmyr gets bored and flutters off to the next room.
This rectangular room has three, large, open sarcophagi installed on the floor. Each sarcophagus is made of the same white marble and polished granite that the walls, floor, and ceiling are made from. The sarcophagi are unadorned, save for the Eye of Aroden engraved in gold leaf on the cover of each one. The walls have golden writing covering each surface, but several portions of the text along the north wall are scratched off and a large hole, carved roughly into the granite beckons to the darkness within. Along the east wall, a small hallway leads into a chamber beyond.
The writing on the walls of this chamber is in Azlanti. There's a brief inscription labeled Aroden's Gift at its side.
The damage on the northern walls of both the antechamber and the adjoining hallway has ruined some detail for the ritual.
If you got a critical success, open the spoiler below.
“According to Tinol, this room is where them Arodenites prepared the Living Dead for their long rest. I never did learn how to speak those fancy words, but I imagine that kind of magic would make for a might bit of booty back home.” Captain Barubary chuckles.