The elf shoots at Josheb's leg...
And misses due to the fog!
Sombra:
Green Archer (bless):
Cazithiel:
Hakon:
Amber Ftr (bless):
Josheb:
Dr. Watson:
Bartok:
Steel Cleric (bless): -3 hp
[dice=Spellcraft]1d20+8
Cazithiel lunges forward, his blade plunging into the swordswoman’s thigh.
"Argh! You elf bastard!" she snarls, staggering but still on her feet.
As Cazithiel retreats a step, she doggedly presses after him, blood trailing in her wake.
"Oland! Healing!" she shouts, voice sharp with pain.
From somewhere in the mist, a grunt answers—low, steady, and grim.
"On it," comes the Aspis cleric’s reply.
Sombra:
Green Archer (bless):
Cazithiel:
Hakon (rage):
Amber Ftr (bless): -5 hp
Josheb (rage):
Dr. Watson:
Bartok:
Steel Cleric (bless): -3 hp
"This is her twin, Hagrum's Keel!" Hakon continues his rage-inducing song as he draws Hagrum's Keel into his left hand. "Together they shed the blood of the dark druid, Roverud!" Hakon's words continue to inspire rage in his companions as he moves past Doctor Watson, to get closer to the northern edge of the fog, since Bartok and Josheb have the western and southern edges of the fog covered, respectively.
Saria swings her blade at Cazithiel—a hiss of steel, along with a fierce shout, her armored form a shadow among shadows. Her longsword arcs in a brutal horizontal slash, aiming for where she can barely see Cazithiel.
"You can't hide from me forever!" she growls, her voice thick with fury and bloodlust.
The blade whistles through the air—then—
A slash across Caz's shoulder.
Sombra:
Green Archer (bless):
Cazithiel: -3 hp
Hakon (rage):
Amber Ftr (bless): -5 hp
Josheb (rage -1 AC):
Dr. Watson:
Bartok:
Steel Cleric (bless): -3 hp
Josheb bursts through the mist with a roar, his greatsword cleaving down in a devastating arc. The blade crashes into Ithioren’s side, splitting flesh and bone in a single, brutal stroke.
The elf doesn’t even cry out—just drops, lifeless, as his bow clatters to the stone.
From the fog nearby, Saria snarls:
"Valas! Damn it!"
Her voice is sharp with fury—and just a trace of fear.
Sombra:
Green Archer (bless): deader than dead.
Cazithiel:
Hakon (rage):
Amber Ftr (bless): -5 hp
Josheb (rage -1 AC):
Dr. Watson:
Bartok:
Steel Cleric (bless): -3 hp
Bart snarls and surges forward to try and find the enemy warrior and bring her down.
He gets in close and brings his sword to bear with a grunt of effort.
[dice=attack, raging song]1d20+6+1; 1d8+5[dice=miss, low bad]1d100
The Pharasman priest moves in the mist. An incantation can be heard from behind the female warrior. Her wounds appear to fully heal.
Sombra:
Green Archer (bless): dead.
Cazithiel: -3 hp
Hakon (rage):
Amber Ftr (bless):
Josheb (rage -1 AC):
Dr. Watson:
Bartok:
Steel Cleric (bless): -3 hp
Hakon continues his raging song as he steps into the mist, "Limbrender severed the legs of the giant Fogulnur." Hakon moves towards the sound of melee to his right (south of him) and slashes Limbrender at the woman in melee with Cazithiel as he continues his song, "Hagrum's Keel struck the giant's neck true."
As Limbrender was about cut into the woman's right arm, she got her arm out of the way in the nick of time before Limbrender lived up to its name.
Cazithiel’s blade drives deep into Saria’s side, cutting through muscle and resolve alike. She stumbles, blood soaking her tunic, her sword slipping from her fingers with a dull *clang* against the stone.
Breathing hard, she drops to one knee, clutching the wound.
"Enough," she growls through gritted teeth. "You win—for now."
From the edge of the mist, Oland steps into view, his expression unreadable beneath his hood. He raises his hands slowly, the spiral of Pharasma glinting faintly at his neck.
"Fate has spoken," he says quietly. "Take your prize. The Lady of Graves will see us again, one way or another."
Saria glares up at you, pain and fury burning in her eyes—but she doesn’t rise.
"This isn’t over, Pathfinders. The Consortium never forgets."
Saria clenches her jaw and grabs her sword, using it like a crutch as she pushes herself to her feet. Blood streaks down her side, but she refuses to fall again.
Without a word, she turns and staggers toward the steps of the shrine, each footfall heavy with pain and pride.
Behind her, Oland approaches the fallen archer’s body. With quiet reverence, he lifts Ithioren into his arms, the elf’s limbs hanging limp. Wordlessly, he follows Saria up the steps, their retreat swallowed by mist and silence.
At the top, Saria pauses. She looks back, eyes sharp despite the blood on her brow.
“You fought well, Pathfinders,” she says, voice low but steady. “Try not to die before we meet again.”
With that, she turns and disappears into the streets beyond the shrine.
In the wake of the ambush, you emerge from the Shrine of the Failed—wounded, weary, but victorious. The mist and blood have faded, leaving behind only the weight of what you’ve uncovered. With Eylysia’s cache in hand, you make your way back to the Grand Lodge.
By the time you return to the Starstone District, the crowd around the Cathedral has dispersed. Yet whispers still linger—shaken locals speak in hushed tones about Sir Reinhart’s fatal leap, his horse vanishing into the chasm and the man with it, swallowed by darkness without a trace.
At the Grand Lodge, Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng greets you in person, his usually unfocused eyes sharper than you’ve seen before. He listens closely to your account, nodding with quiet approval.
"You’ve done well, he says. "Eylysia’s secrets will help the Society greatly. I’ll be watching your careers with interest."
For those still awaiting their Confirmation, Dreng promises to speak directly with Master of Scrolls Kreighton Shaine, to ensure your service is properly recognized. For those already confirmed, he assures you that new assignments will come soon—and likely more dangerous.
Several days later, a sealed missive arrives for each of you. Inside: a summary of the Society’s early findings from the cache… and the subtle suggestion that this was only the beginning.
Your recent investigations and recovery of agent Eylysia’s papers have already yielded results. Under my direction, a team of scholars has tracked down the long-retired Society ciphers the gnome used and translated many of her entries. Although several of these records provide valuable leads, one of them in particular has caught my attention. It describes an exciting opportunity to explore uncharted ruins that crashed out of the sky thousands of years ago.
The barren land of Numeria is famous for these bizarre ruins, whose depths are rich with the otherworldly technologies of Silver Mount. Normally, learning of these sites, let alone gaining permission to access them, is a daunting task. Fortunately, Eylysia’s papers lead us directly to a remote ruin called Sulfur Gulch, which the famous Pathfinder Gojan the Sharp located four centuries ago.
Eylysia’s records also indicate that Gojan vanished a year after discovering the site, having earned unfulfilled favors from local tribes that we may be able to leverage to our advantage. Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine of Tymon is carefully gathering a list of potential agents who he believes are qualified to face the dangers of Sulfur Gulch. While I would not normally recommend that agents as new as you delve into such a perilous location, you show promise and may well be prepared by the time he is ready to launch the expedition. In the meantime, if you could help me identify other promising agents who would be interested in this project, I would consider it a great service.
Highest Regards,
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin
|
Sombra watches carefully from behind the column, wand at the ready, prepared for any sign of treachery or deception.
"Yes excellent work all of us. We live to explore another day."
"Thank you Venture Captain Dreng for the kind words. We worked together as a team and we prevailed."
The wayang offers a rare smile at the assembled group.