GM Valen's 2nd ed Pathfinder Society Quests #1: The Sandstone Secret (June 2025) (Inactive)

Game Master Lysle

The request by Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir was short and to-the-point. You are to head to the Sandswept Hall, the Pathfinder lodge in the Osirian capital of Sothis.

For more than a day, you have had access to much of the Sandswept Hall, which has afforded you plenty of time to meet one another and to learn some facts about the Pathfinder Society.

Now, you each receive an invitation from Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir to join him in the lush gardens outside the Sandswept Hall.

The shaded gardens outside the Sandswept Hall provide a welcome respite from the sweltering midday sun. Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir reaches up to one of the date palms overhead, pulling down a bunch of ripe fruit to share with the table. “They’re good for much more than shade, my friends."

"But I did not call you here to enjoy my garden." he notes. "A few months ago, I finally received confirmation that we would be able to execute one of the last excavation permits issued by the Osiriani government. The site is a desert location where the dunes have shifted, revealing the beginnings of a staircase leading down beneath the sands."

“The Osiriani government is protective of its cultural history," he continues, "and with recent changes in their stance on allowing foreign archaeologists to work inside their borders, I wasn’t sure this permit would even stand. The bureaucracy was rather slow this time around, but it turns out we were approved before they stopped issuing permits. I’ve already secured your provisions, including camels, tents, food, water, tools to perform the excavation, and a map to the site. As you know, it may take many weeks to clear the site of debris. The desert can be unforgiving, so don’t hesitate to return here to rest as needed.
“The government has already sent guards to oversee the site and protect against any potential thieves."

"Remember—keeping up a good reputation in Osirion is vital to the Pathfinder Society’s continued presence here. Don’t antagonize the guards.” His warning given, he pauses for any questions.

A male Fetchling with chalk-white skin furrows his eyebrows. His eyes and shoulder-length hair are black, and he has several black piercings in his face and ears. A small silver skull hangs around his neck, the black chain looped through the eye sockets. He wears studded leather armor, but his forearms are bare. Stylized chains are branded around both wrists, with circular scars on the backs.

”The name’s Shalosar”, he says. ”How far out is the site? If we’re trekking back here to rest, I want to make sure we can make it”

A grey skinned and rather scrawny orc with bouncy clumps of coppery hair beams tuskily around the Sandswept Hall. He shifts awkwardly in gunmetal chain mail that seems too big for him. With sleeves of teal-striped white cotton and holding just a torch, he could be page.

"Hi Shalosar! I'm Erred. This is going to be awesome!"

"We are Erred! Say it!" Angry mumbles emanate from a ghostly visage of an old woman that briefly occludes Erred's face.

"Let him be, Scold." The visage is replaced by another, younger woman's ghostly face.

"We am Erred?", Erred whispered. The diaphanous spirits retreated inside Erred's head, and his eyes refocused on Shalosar. "I mean, I am Erred! Sorry I said that already." He turned back to the Venture Captain. "I've never excavated with a camel before."

One of the figures sitting around the table is that of a large dog, accompanied by a cat. The most immediate sign that they aren't ordinary animals is their equipment. The dog wears a pair of quite alluring bracelets, lattice armor, and a backpack, and has a greatsword sheathed on his back, while the cat wears spectacles and carries a large (at least compared to her) notebook in which she takes careful notes. Less immediate, but more telling once one has noticed, is the intense look in the dog's eye. Of course, the thing that really confirms it is their behavior, especially the talking.

The dog politely accepts a date. "I'm Artemios," he says. He doesn't call himself "Artemios the Radiant," yet it seems inexplicably but undeniably obvious that the epithet should be part of his name. "And this is Nadia. She's my chronicler, not an adventurer. She won't be getting directly involved."

Artemios's active Ikon is his Gaze as Sharp as Steel, which gives him a +1 to Perception and +2 to AC against ranged attacks. He can switch Ikons when Initiative is rolled, and the other ones he has are only useful in combat so he'll probably always have Gaze active otherwise.
Nadia isn't a familiar or anything, just a hireling.

”The name’s Shalosar”, he says. ”How far out is the site? If we’re trekking back here to rest, I want to make sure we can make it”

"The journey to the site should take you no more than three days, depending on how many hours you decide to travel per day. You will have to find your rest in the desert using whatever you bring with you, I'm afraid." Balentiir cautions. "I will equip you with travel supplies and ensure that you have plenty of resources to handle the desert’s most basic threats."

Shalosar wrote:

”The name’s Shalosar”, he says. ”How far out is the site? If we’re trekking back here to rest, I want to make sure we can make it”

"The journey to the site should take you no more than three days, depending on how many hours you decide to travel per day. You will have to find your rest in the desert using whatever you bring with you, I'm afraid." Balentiir cautions. "I will equip you with travel supplies and ensure that you have plenty of resources to handle the desert’s most basic threats."

Shalosar nods. ”Three days, so we’ll have to keep an eye on…”

He starts. ”Wait a minute, many weeks? And we’ll be out there digging that whole time? Ugh!”

He starts. ”Wait a minute, many weeks? And we’ll be out there digging that whole time? Ugh!”

"I will make sure that you are supplied with many shovels," assures Venture-Captain Balentiir. "“The shifting winds revealed only the top portion of the staircase. What lies beyond it remains a mystery.”

A short goblin enters the room looking confused.

"Uh, hullo! Yous Paffinders? I's Siao-Siao. I's joining yous."

Siao-Siao looks a bit more disheveled than one would expect a cleric to, though she does have the accoutrements of one.

"I's your healer!"

Shalosar rolls his eyes at Balentiir, and turns to Siao-Siao.

”Welcome to the party, pal!”, he says in his gravelly voice. ”Hope you like digging!”

"Dig? Oh I's love digging! I's dig lots at home." She launches into a long-winded story of where she went digging through the sewers to stay alive with her older cousins. Absently, she pulls out a long green pickle, dripping brine and takes a bite. She continues her narrative, spraying brine and bits of cucumber everywhere...

Erred's eyes light up. "Ooh, ooh, Venture-Captain, sir! I know this one! I've solved the mystery! Um." Erred's free hand grasps the air for the right word as his brain is restrained by a lack of neural activity completely unrelated to the ghosts in his head.

"The bottom portion of the staircase!"

"Idiot", cursed Scold, as Erred momentarily became angry and old. "Give our host your cunning, Mousedeer."

"I wish I could," sighed Mousedeer, via Erred's ghostly ingenue. The two apparitions seemed related, like different creatures with a common ancestor. But neither stayed long enough to seem real.

Shalosar looks at Erred, then at Balentiir, and shrugs.

”He’s not wrong”

"And there might even be something else after that!" says Artemios excitedly.

"And there might even be something else after that!" says Artemios excitedly.

"Let us hope that is the case." The Venture-Captain responds, holding back a sigh. "Regardless, you won't solve this mystery by remaining here."

"Get a good night's rest," he suggests as he exits the courtyard. "Your caravan leaves in the morning."

As promised, a small caravan of camels equipped with shovels and other supplies awaits the party outside of the lodge the following morning.

The first leg of the journey is uneventful. As you make your way through the sea of dunes, the sun continues to rise in Osirion sky. Traveling during the hottest part of the day is exceedingly uncomfortable.

What do you wish to do? Seek shade? Continue on? Something else entirely?

Traveling during the hottest part of the day is exceedingly uncomfortable.

"I'm surprised they didn't give us more advice for desert travel," Aremios says, panting, "I've never done this before."

"I believe we should seek shade and rest during the day, and travel at night," Nadia offers, "Though I've read deserts can be very cold at night. If it's too cold, perhaps we'll be best off traveling around dawn and dusk, and sheltering from both extremes in between. We'll have to see how bad night is."

A shout surprises you and you find a small kobold -- small even for kobold standards -- climbing out of one of the saddlebag on a camel. "Why is it so hot?! Where is the treasure?" He pulls himself out and promptly falls into the scorching sand. He hisses and whirls a flail around his head and into the sand before pulling himself upright.

"You're off to find treasure in the desert, amirite? Dragons need hordes and desert treasure sounds like a good start! Jinlong says so! I, Vernon -- I mean Vermithor -- need to start a horde!" Whatever his delusions, the frenetic kobold seems highly energetic. Maybe you can use that to your advantage.

Shalosar nods at Nadia. ”Makes sense to me. Let’s look for a WHAT THE HELLS!?”

He stares at Vermithor. ”Are you even a Pathfinder, or did you just curl up in the nearest saddlebag to sleep it off?”

Another kobold, this time with brass scales runs up to the group. "Is SiaoSiao here?" he asks breathlessly. As she steps up, she recognizes her fellow Lodgemate. "You've been reassigned. Sorry, friend, but there was a mixup in the paperwork at the Lodge."

"Sigh. Longshanks always do that! Ok. I's going!" Picking up her pack, she heads off...

"Hang on, " the kobold with brass scales says, rounding on Vermithor, "Did I hear that right? You said 'Jinlong'? Do you mean the famous Pathfinder Adventurer Jinlong Dragonkin??! He's my cousin! How do you know him?!"

Two votes for avoiding travelling in the heat of the day.

Avoiding the worst of the Osirion sun, the small caravan travels on, despite a couple of instances of dragon dragging.

The gangs all here!

The remainder of the journey to the archaeological site is relatively uneventful.

Upon your arrival at the ruin, you find that the ruin’s entrance has already been excavated. A canvas fence secured around staircase keeps most of the sand away from the opening. A shelter made from a tarp stands not far from the opening while, nearby, a pair of guards nap in the shade of four resting camels.

There is a pleasant humming sound in the air. The subdued melody emanates from beneath the tarp.

As you approach, the humming stops. "Well, well!" The cry is that of a woman's voice, though she makes no effort to leave the shade of the tarp. "More Pathfinders?"

"Wh-who are you talking to, Elrekah?" One of the shaded guards interrupts; he mutters, clearly still half-asleep.

The woman briefly pokes her head out from under the tarp, revealing the form of a fit, Osirion guard.

"Don't you worry, Mezgrin," she calls back. "I've got this handled."

Elrekah then turns to the party, "Your quite late for Pathfinders." The woman chastises. "Decided to join the expedition only after all the hard labor was finished and the entryway already cleared, did you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself! I am Huang Tong "HT" Dragonkin." He makes a face, "HT is a rather inappropriate name for a Dragon, but I sort of liked it. I am named for the famous Pathfinder Adventurer Jinlong Dragonkin, who happens to be my cousin! You are all fortunate you have a great Dragon to protect you!"

Elrekah then turns to the party, "Your quite late for Pathfinders." The woman chastises. "Decided to join the expedition only after all the hard labor was finished and the entryway already cleared, did you?"

”Finished?”, Shalosar replies with a crooked grin. ”It’s only started. There’s still the rest of whatever this place is to clear out, plus whatever’s down there waiting for us. Thanks for the help, but don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back”

”Finished?”, Shalosar replies with a crooked grin. ”It’s only started. There’s still the rest of whatever this place is to clear out, plus whatever’s down there waiting for us. Thanks for the help, but don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back”

"Started?" Elrekah replies with a wry smile. "Your fellow Pathfinders began digging over a month ago. Much of that time since was dedicated to clearing and securing the entrance. In fact, the head Pathfinder just sent the lot of them home about a week ago."

Shalosar’s grin collapses. ”What…but he said…*sigh* okay, let’s have a look at this entrance, and see what’s what”

"Did I hear that right? You said 'Jinlong'? Do you mean the famous Pathfinder Adventurer Jinlong Dragonkin??! He's my cousin! How do you know him?!"

Vermithor stares in shock at Huang Tong. "You're related to Jinlong?! He taught me all about Dragons and their ferocity! And that they have hordes of treasure! But their fury is amazing!"

He leans in close to Huang Tong. "He helped me think of a new name too. Do you like it? A fellow dragon can still call me Vinny though."

Vinny -- er, Vermithor -- turns back to the entrance guard. "Does that mean we can go in and see the treasure?"

"Wow, that was really cool! I like camels. The bumps make for a bumpy ride! Maybe they could put bumps on the sides too, so we can sashay along." Erred's chain mail jingled as he swiveled his hips.

"Mr Venture-Captain, sir? What did the other Pathfinders do wrong? Why did you send them back?"

Erred's eyes opened wider, and he pointed at one kobold, then the next, then the one disappearing into the distance, then the first one again...

"Three," barked Scold. "There are THREE kobolds. Okay two now. There are TWO kobolds! Argh." The angry visage shook its head and vanished back inside Erred.

"Ooh, another mystery," goaded Mousedeer. "The disappearing kobold! And disappearing Pathfinders! If we keep this up, maybe Erred will forget to eat." A ghostly hand tapped Erred on the temple before disappearing back inside him.

"Erred never forgets to eat."

Vinny -- er, Vermithor -- turns back to the entrance guard. "Does that mean we can go in and see the treasure?"

"If your permit is in order, then you are free to enter." Elrekah replies, motioning the dragonkin to approach her spot beneath the shaded tarp.

"Mr Venture-Captain, sir? What did the other Pathfinders do wrong? Why did you send them back?"

"Venture-Captain?" Elrekah looks at the orc with some confusion.

"Oh, are you calling out for the head Pathfinder?" she concludes. "He probably can't hear you at the moment. He descended the stairs a week ago after he sent the others packing once they were done clearing away the sand. He said he was going to catalogue the ruin's history. I haven't seen him since."

What do you wish to do, Pathfinders?

"The Venture-Captain didn't mention anybody but guards sent by the government being here," says Artemios curiously. Did he actually say they were the first team? He can't recall it being mentioned explicitly. "He definitely told us to expect to have to dig it out."

Well. Hm.

"If it's been open for a week, do you know anything about what we should expect down there?"

"The Venture-Captain didn't mention anybody but guards sent by the government being here," says Artemios curiously. Did he actually say they were the first team? He can't recall it being mentioned explicitly. "He definitely told us to expect to have to dig it out."

”Yes! THANK you!”, Shalosar says to Artemios.

He turns to Elrekah. ”Sorry about that. We were given bad information”

After a brief pause, he adds, ”So another VC disappeared down there a week ago? Balentiir didn’t mention that either. Did you catch his name?”

While the conversation about the 'head Pathfinder' is going on, two kobolds are busily discussing dragon-hood at the back of the party.

"Vinny? That is not the proper name for a Dragon. I personally don't remember cousin Jinlong ever taking a nickname. Though a smoothscale female I met while I was in Irrisen, really cold place, mind you, called me HT. Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted, but the smoothscale even bowed to me! Her name's Gwen." He appears starry-eyed at the memory...

"If it's been open for a week, do you know anything about what we should expect down there?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't been down there." Elrekah replies. "My job is to guard the entrance and make sure that no unauthorized persons enter. That is why I am asking you to provide your permit."

After a brief pause, he adds, ”So another VC disappeared down there a week ago? Balentiir didn’t mention that either. Did you catch his name?”

"A name? I believe he did give a name." Elrekah struggles to recall. She scratches her head, then calls over to one of the napping guards. "Say, Mezgrin! What was the name of that Pathfinder who went down the steps? The one who said pioneered the exploration of a bunch of Azlanti ruins and discovered some lost serpentfolk city?"

Mezgrin rolls over in reply. "I think he said his name was Durvin Kline, or some such." The man manages to spit out the words, though he keeps his eyes shut.

"Durvin Kline." Elrekah repeats. "That sounds right."
Any PC may attempt a Society or Pathfinder Society Lore check.

"He provided a permit, as requested, before he entered." Elrekah continues. "I have a copy of his right here." She brandishes a document in her hand. "I can't let you enter unless you provide a permit of your own."

"But we're part of the same organization, so doesn't that one cover us? ...it doesn't matter. We have one."

Artemios fetches it from his bag and presents the document to the guard.

Society: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

"Durvin Kline? I'm not sure."

Pathfinder Lore: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

"Did he make bottles?" whispered Mousedeer.

"No, no! Erred you fool, they mentioned Kline before," recalled Scold.

"Oh yes. He's a founder. No wait, he sounds like that founder, Eando Kline. From the Pathfinders. Maybe Durvin is his grandfather?"

PFS Lore(T): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

HT steps forward. "I am a great Dragon, so you should listen. What my smoothscale friend here is true. There is no such Durvin Kline in the famous Pathfinder rolls. You should also realize there is a Jinlong Dragonkin on that list as well!"

"Vinny? That is not the proper name for a Dragon. I personally don't remember cousin Jinlong ever taking a nickname. Though a smoothscale female I met while I was in Irrisen, really cold place, mind you, called me HT. Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted, but the smoothscale even bowed to me! Her name's Gwen." He appears starry-eyed at the memory...

Vermithor hangs his head for a moment. "That's what Jinlong said. 'Vermithor' is more dragon-y." He narrows his eyes. "This Gwen is a smoothscale? How do you know you can trust her? Your name is Huang Tong!"

PFS Lore: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Vermithor shift his narrowed eyes to the guard. "If Huang Tong says there's no such Pathfinder, perhaps this person lied. Can we see the permit he provided?" He kobold holds out his hand expectantly.

"But we're part of the same organization, so doesn't that one cover us? ...it doesn't matter. We have one."

Artemios fetches it from his bag and presents the document to the guard.

"Look, I didn't write the rules. I just enforce them." Elrekah replies, as she accepts the offered document. After wiping off what she assumes is some drool, she inspects it.

"All appears in order." she says as she rolls the permit up into a cylindrical shape. She prepares to hand the permit back, then pauses for moment as if wondering whether if it would be more appropriate it to toss the document so that it could be "fetched".

Thinking better of it, she simply stows it into her satchel. "I will return it to you once you are prepared to leave the site."

Vermithor shift his narrowed eyes to the guard. "If Huang Tong says there's no such Pathfinder, perhaps this person lied. Can we see the permit he provided?" He kobold holds out his hand expectantly.

"I'm not going to debate Pathfinder history with you," Elrekah concedes. "All I can say is that the other guy appeared honest to me and, more importantly, had the proper paperwork. Same as you do."

She retrieves a permit from her satchel and hands it to the dragonkin. Free of any apparent slobber, the document appears to be identical to the permit provided to the party.

Any PC examining the permit may attempt a Perception check.

When you are prepared to descend into the ruins, you find that a ten foot-wide staircase leads from the surface into the ruin below. Sandy dust covers the floors of the underground complex. Illumination comes from outside, trickling down from the scorching Osirion sun above into the buried structure.
Each of the rooms are dimly lit.

The steps lead downward and to the west. Each stair is 9 inches tall.

Once at the base of the steps, you find yourselves within the remains of a once-grand entryway. Here, several of the pillars have collapsed. Around the edges of this chamber are statues around depicting scarab beetles.
Any PC may attempt a Society check. If your PC is from Osirion, you automatically succeed at this check.

The height of the ceilings is 10 feet. To the north stands the entry into a small hallway where a door stands to the east and the hallways takes a turn westward. A wider hallway extends southward, intersecting another hallway running north to south, before ending in a pair of large stone doors. To the south of this entry chamber stands another stone door.

Where to, Pathfinders?

A map of the ruins now appears on Slides. Please place your tokens where your PCs wish your PC to be.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

The pools of darkness that are Shalosar’s eyes drink in the dim light, as he looks over the missing Venture Captain’s permit.

”Seems legit”, he says. ”No name, though”

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

The Venture-Captain said he didn't learn his application was approved until recently... but it could have taken a while for the news to get to him.

Artemios lights his wayfinder as he enters the ruin. Something smells off here (figuratively), so he also draws his sword.

Perc: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

Huang Tong shrugs. Each column looks the same to him...

No Society

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Vermithor looks around the room quickly "Anyone see signs of where he went?" He moves among the columns.

Vermithor looks around the room quickly "Anyone see signs of where he went?" He moves among the columns.

There are no signs of tracks in this chamber. Any tracks that may once have been here have either been actively covered or disturbed beyond recognition by falling debris from the ceiling or additional sand flung down the staircase by desert winds.

Which direction do you wish to go, Pathfinders?

Please ensure that your PC's exploration mode is up-to-date. Then, feel free to move your PC on the map on Slides.

Shalosar moves further into the entryway, and ponders their options.

”I’m thinking we start from the north”, he rasps. ”How about the rest of you?”

"Goo' as any," says Artemios with a nod, moving in that direction.

Vermithor nods excitedly. "Let's go!" He draws a flail in one hand and an axe in the other.

HT follows the other excited-looking dragon...

As the party journeys through the hallway northward, they encounter an open door along the eastern wall.

Inside the room are a series of carvings depicting an army attacking a city.

The hallway continues on before turning westward.

What do you wish to do, Pathfinders?

Erred slips into the north room with his lit torch. The carvings have him transfixed. While the graffiti has no meaning for him, the person in charge has a religious symbol that looks familiar.

Religion DC 15: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

"Oh my. That looks like a sha, the holy symbol of the terrible god of darkness, deserts, murder, and storms known as Set. That probably means that leader of all those undead is an assassin, a rogue, a necromancer or all of the above."

The old lady apparition lunges out of Erred with a look of utter surprise, and stares incredulously for a long moment at the prescient orc. She shakes her head, then transforms into the younger ghost. Mousedeer also stares in amazement at the orc before shaking her head and vanishing back inside Erred's head.

"What? I can read, you know."

Religion(U): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

HT shudders and confirms what Erred just said.