The city-states of Iblydos rule an archipelago steeped in mythic power, legendary beasts, and ancient history. Yet the region suffers; the myth-speaking rites that used to elevate great heroes into mortal demigods are failing, with few of the hero-gods surviving to guide their people and grant magic.
But all this is about to change. The war-god Gorum is dead, the shards of his body fallen to Golarion infused with fragments of his mythic power. The Godsrain has left Iblydos awash in mythic power, ready for some new heroes to harness it...
Chapter 1: To Honor the Fallen
Summer winds propel ships east from the Inner Sea to the lucrative markets dotting southern Casmaron and ultimately to the riches of Vudra. For over 4,000 years, Iblydos has provided the optimal stopover for these ships—not just those seeking a chance to restock provisions, but also for merchants off-loading their cargo before tacking west, rather than sailing the whole Obari Crossing. Those same ships often carry passengers seeking adventure in far-off lands.
Some of you might be those up-and-coming adventurers. Others may be natives of Iblydos. Whatever the case, your paths have crossed in Bailax, an eminent Iblydan city, shortly after the first ships of the season reached the islands. Nestled in the easternmost reaches of Kardaji Bay, the islands controlled by Pol-Bailax lie off the beaten path and receive relatively little of this traffic. Nevertheless, this port city thrives not only by producing unique goods with international demand, but also by mastering local trade during the monsoon’s off-seasons. As with other Iblydan polities, the term Pol-Bailax refers to the whole city-state, including its various territories. Bailax is its eponymous capital.
Bailaxians host these early visitors, eager to meet strangers and demonstrate Iblydans’ sacred duty of hospitality. Bailax is a noocracy—a state ruled by the wise. Its Philosopher Council consists of 25 learned citizens, and one of its members, a retired duelist named Terpsime, has invited you to her estate to enjoy her hospitality and the city's wonders for a week, no matter where your travels might take you afterward.
You have relaxed and explored today, returning to Terpsime's estate for dinner. But when the councilor belatedly joins you just as the second course is being served, her demeanor is a mix of fatigue, frustration, and determination, all barely contained behind a veneer of pleasant hospitality. "Felt sure I was going to use this today," she mutters, before forcing her grimace into a smile and checking the pins in her gray hair.
"We knew it was only a matter of time before Dintolneon passed," she sighs as she addresses you. "Even so, it seems to have shocked some of my colleagues to the point that they couldn’t help but deliver hour-long eulogies." She takes a few bites of fish before continuing. "I suppose I can’t blame them; Dintolneon had such promise."
Terpsime trails of, lost in thought...
"Thank you for your hospitality," a faun dressed in an earthy tunic and draped in a voluminous purple cloak bows his horned head to Terpsime. "It has been a long day for you; come, drink deep and forget the dusty speeches and disappointment for a while."
Suiting deed to word, he mixes the host's wine and takes a healthy drought from a brightly painted kylix.
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The stranger as many of the Iblydans had come to call the otherwise nameless Elk-headed man typically did not entreat others with eating in their presence. It often upset him, as well as those around so he carefully took bites of the food when no one was looking as to avoid such topics.
In the sweltering heat of these lands the Stranger took to robing himself with the simplest of vestments, at least when not adorned in armor. A plain chalmys wrapped around his waist, folded and tucked on itself so it resembled a shorter skirt and made for easier sitting.
"Agreed, it is never easy to lose a long time companion." Comes the deep rumbling voice seldom used. "We are ever in your debt for your hospitality and patronage Madame Terpsime."
He raised his own kylix upwards in toast, being careful to not scratch the outside with the glossy rough hoof-like 'pads' of his digits. Unlike most humanoid bodies where the underside of their fingers were flesh, his were made of a strange malleable hoof which made grasping certain objects a pain. But he would endure to appease his host.
Kallistratos has eaten nearly in silence through the first course, his scarlet tunic and chlamys much louder in color than he is in words.
"You honor the gods well, Terpsime," he offers in a husky tenor, "I hope you will forgive your colleagues. Grief moves many to action, but fewer to eloquence."
A fidgety Kholo's blue eyes constantly dart about the enclosure of their host's abode. An intermittent scraping of his chair accompanied by a hasty apology before the cycle repeats itself. An untouched goblet of cider sits appealingly in front of the nervous and uncomfortable kholo.
Are those walls getting closer?
Standing tall at 6' 6", his desert garments flow loosely about his most certainly wrestler's frame. Lifting his goblet a bit clumsily, the kholo holds it out to their host.
May your Dintolneon never thirst again.
Arfi-em-khet's fur is sun-bleached and wind-scoured, blending with the desert he calls home. His eyes glow faintly with the essence of aeons-old sandstorms. Tribal beads and ancient bone charms clatter from his braided mane, marking him as both warrior and ward.
Sitting awkwardly back down in his chair (it response easily deciphered as complaining), Arfi-em-khet begins his fidgety performance....again.
"Thank you," Terpsime says. She takes a sip of her own wine. "Dintolneon was quite the dashing hero decades ago. He could run without tiring, outsang a naiad quartet, and most famously bested a manticore bare-handed—had all the makings of a hero-god. Bailax adored him, and deservedly so.
"Alas, it was not to be. Cyclopes gave him a myth-speaking, said they could sense his path, but couldn’t say where it led. They tried again every year after that—no success. It’s happened with candidates across the isles since prophecy failed."
She stirs her food pensively before adding, "Few myth-speakings succeed, and that means hero-gods are a dying breed. If anyone could ascend, Dintolneon felt like the one. His death… it feels like the end of an era."
"We drink to Dintolneon, but I'm not ready to toast the end of Iblydos or our way of life just yet," Oinos protests. "Myth-speaking may be ...on hiatus, but we'll have hero gods yet!"
Cheeks flushed with either embarrassment or wine, Kallistratos asks, "Does anyone know what exactly he did with the naiads after the singing was through? I've heard that part of the tale is even more exciting."
Arfi-em-khet takes a tentative sip of his cider. The Kholo's blue eyes follow the conversation, but he seems a bit too distracted by the walls seemingly closing in on him.
I hear tales of hero-gods here in Iblydos even out in the Desert. The winds and Sands carrying word of deeds and daring to my ears even there. My tribe has sent me to become one to end the threats to our way of life.
The Desert nomad looks about the interior of the abode.
Much better outdoors though.
Terpsime pushes her plate to one side. "Understandably, the festival isn’t happening quite as planned. Once the council finished"—she pauses, holding back frustration as she chooses words carefully—"opining the meaning of death, a few of us proposed converting the festival into funeral games to honor Dintolneon’s memory. We voted, it passed, I assigned drasikons to coordinate the changes, and now it’s out of my hands.
"That is, it’s mostly out of my hands." Her mouth quirks in a mischievous smile as she stares at you. "I, ah, may have added your names to the list of competitors. What better way can there be to experience Bailax than to compete in a great hero’s memory? There will be fame, prizes, fun…" Her smile fades slightly. "And I expect there will also be a few jerks. Iblydos’s neighbors are like vultures, circling as they watch our hero-gods die, all while plotting which island to annex, loot, or evangelize to first. I want these games to be a display of strength to the outside world. I want to sponsor you as my champions—to keep Iblydos’s traditions alive."
Terpsime leans back appraisingly and awaits questions as the cook brings out the third course.
The rather large Kholo's blue eyes brighten a bit as their host mentions the words " There will be fame, prizes, fun…".
It's an outdoor venue?
"A competition! That should keep things from getting too dour. What sort of games do they have planned?" Oinos quickly warms to the idea of competing.
A flash of nerves crosses Kal's face before he covers it over with a brazen smile. "A test of strength? Of skill? How could I say no?"
"I don’t know for sure which venues will be featured and which contests will be chosen," Terpsime admits. "That’s for the drasikons to decide—those are the officials who oversee various city functions, like sanitation, zoning, festivals, and the like. And the less I know, the better. It wouldn’t be honorable if my champions had an unfair advantage. But this is Bailax, yes? No doubt there will be some sailing, running, athletics, and gladiatorial games. Importantly, there will be several main events that you’ll need to attend.
"The games will last at most five days. That gives us all of Fireday, Starday, and Sunday, plus most of Moonday. But they have to wrap up before dark on Moonday for the send-off. That’s when the souls of the recently deceased march to the sea to be ferried to the afterlife. The pyres of Bailax help guide the way." With a knowing nod, she adds, "Helps to keep anyone from getting lost and becoming ghosts.
"Competing well can earn you considerable fame, which opens countless opportunities. But the more physical prizes? Dintolneon’s will left part of his wealth—including some of his equipment—to the city. I expect some of that gets used for prize money."
Terpsime concludes her proposal with a warning. "As I mentioned before, these games don’t just honor Dintolneon; they honor Iblydos and its traditions. So compete well, make friends, and keep any mainland troublemakers from sullying Pol-Bailax and its hero. And on that note," she announces with a smile, "let’s have dessert."
Oinos tucks into the dessert with relish, "Maybe there will be a drinking competition!"
Arfi-em-khet toasts to Oinos' suggestion.
May our names be sung in a heroic odyssey!
Kal toasts as well, "To glory that blots out all else!"
The funeral games don’t begin until afternoon on the following day. Nonetheless, Terpsime ensures you awake to stretch, eat a good meal, and arrive at the opening ceremony early to study your competition.
The festivities begin at the largest park in the Kylix, Bailax’s northernmost district. There, workers hurriedly set up decorations and stages, doing their best to comply with the last minute-changes for the funeral games. Undyl, a middle-aged cyclops with red and blue facial tattoos, dutifully interviews contestants as they arrive and records their information, forming them into teams as necessary. As you approach, he peers at you with his solitary eye.
"Ah, you are the ones Terpsime is sponsoring," he rumbles. "You're already signed up to compete in the games. But you'll have to come up with a team name. So, what do you want to be called?"
"Kleos Athanatoi? Very well," Undyl says, writing your team name down.
As the final preparations are taken care of, you are able to meet the other competitors.
The Golden Pegasi: These locals have joined for love of their city-state, wearing clothing and tokens with warm hues to honor the city’s phoenix. Ataiosiphon is a wiry young man who’s famed for the delicate designs depicting local legends that he paints onto pottery. So much time spent illustrating myths has inspired Ataiosiphon to seek glory of his own. Rhetienn the centaur lives a semi-nomadic life beyond the city as she tends scattered orchards and turns the various fruits into wine and spirits. She plays hard, parties hard, and enjoys friendly boasting before events. Yphani the cyclops enjoys the pastoral life and her flocks. Cyclopes might be most famous as priests and seers, but many pursue more mundane careers. Friends know that although she’s shy, she’s also strong, having killed at least three wolves barehanded.
The Pearl Chasers: United by their desire for excitement, this eclectic trio joined forces to have fun, win or lose. Mellita recently
celebrated her 58th birthday and 14th grandchild’s birth, yet she remains sprier than most citizens half her age. Her thick arms hide ample muscle developed over decades of weaving, dyeing, and scrubbing cloth. With her children grown and retirement approaching, Mellita just wants some exercise. Phel is an eccentric merfolk wrecker who plies the archipelago’s waters in search of oddities, sunken ships, and lost cargos. They sell much of the recovered treasure, which funds their passion for strange foods and terrestrial experiences. Sappil the vishkanya hails from Vudra yet frequents Iblydos in search of magical and military work for hire, sending much of his earnings east as remittances. His serious demeanor belies a quick and wry sense of humor.
Team Akki: This trio seeks wealth and clout, with little regard for tradition. When asked for a team name, Ulshuk and Tsemone shrugged, leaving the exuberant Akki to name the team after herself (much to her teammates’ chagrin). Akki the tengu is a living tempest, craving fame, fortune, and a good fight. The Iblydan prospect of achieving divinity has seized her imagination. Although boisterous with an easily bruised ego, she rarely acts with real malice. Tsemone grew up among Pol-Sylirica’s nobility, which valued physical prowess and bravery. Tsemone instead favored subtlety and strategic applications of poison, earning her temporary exile and the threat of losing her inheritance. She’s lethally ambitious and seeking new allies who can help her reclaim her birthright. Ulshuk the lizardfolk cheerfully experiments with magic of all sorts in honor of his patron, Nethys. Having heard tales of Iblydan hero-gods, he believes attaining mythic power for himself could unlock new magical possibilities.
Oinos senses a kindred spirit in Rhetienn and tries to strike up a conversation:
"I hear you are also an artist of the fruits of the vine. Do you suppose our expertise will be useful during this competition? I shudder to think of races and wrestling, myself."
Kal gets a little nervous around some of the other competitors; Centaurs especially have always given him a premonition of disaster. Phel though, he finds himself drawn to. I've always loved the water.
"I'm Kallistratos Anemoi, Saltsoaked and Windchased. Is this your first time competing in games like these?"
Blending into his outdoor surroundings, the Sand Kholo's blue eyes simply mark their ordained adversarial composition. The Ancient Guardian seems disgusted at Team Akki's flagrant disregard for traditions.
The weight of Tradition shall bury those.
Rhetienn grins down at Oinos. "I don't know if there will be a brewing competition, but I'm no slouch in the physical department, either! I do hope there will be races and wrestling. Since you seem to be so afraid of them, it will be easy for me to beat you!" she boasts, ending with a good-natured laugh.
Meanwhile, Phel gives Kallistratos a shy smile. "Yes. I spend most of my time in the water, but I have always been curious about life among your land-dwellers," they say. "It seems like this will be a whole lot of fun. I'm looking forward to the competition!"
***
After a little bit of time, Undyl calls for your attention as he explains the rules of the competition:
The funeral games for Dintolneon will include five major competitions over the course of five days. Various minor events like foot races, drinking contests, concerts, and drama performances will fill the rest of the time, giving the populace exciting diversions as the competitors rest before the next event.
As competitors, you are expected to participate in the five main events: sailing, the pyre relay, competitive feasting, the gladiator melee, and the amphora roll. You can use the rest of their time as you please. Each team must participate in each of the five events, though not all of a team’s members must participate in each event.
The best teams in each of the events earn flame-shaped bronze medallions with Dintolneon’s name etched on the reverse side. The team with the top score for an event earns five medallions. The second-best team earns three medallions, and the third-best earns one. In addition, each of an event’s three judges has another medallion they can award, typically given to a participant whose performance was especially memorable. The team with the most medallions by Moonday wins the top prize.
"So with that said, let the games begin!" Undyl declares!
***
Game I: Sailing and Sardines
Coordinators have shifted a time-sensitive event to the festival’s first day: harvesting sardines. Seasonal currents sweep up nutrients from deep in the Obari Ocean, feeding algae blooms that attract huge shoals of sardines and other small fish. In ancient times, fishers sailed tiny two-person boats along the coast, relying on the waves and handheld nets to torpedo through the shoals, capture fish, and hopefully not crash into reefs.
Contemporary fishers use larger, safer ships and nets. However, the riskier small-boat tradition has survived as a seasonal sport called baleening, which resembles a combination of surfing and polo. The games begin with this event.
Participants compete in two-person crews. The sailor controls the boat’s rudder and rigging to sail along the edge of an incoming wave. The fisher wields a conical net mounted on a short pole, leaning over the side of the boat to scoop up as many fish as possible. The longer the sailor can keep the boat moving with the wave, the longer the fisher has to catch fish.
The competition involves four brief stages. Each stage allows one or both participants to attempt a check to affect the competition. A team then paddles back to shore for a short break before repeating the process for a second run.
After each run, a team’s catch is weighed. A team’s score is based on the combined bulk of the fish they catch over their two runs.
Sail (1–4 checks, sailor only): Using the sail, rudder, and body mass, the sailor steers the boat along the wave, maintaining momentum as long as possible. Sailing poorly can make the fisher’s job harder or even end the team’s run early. No matter how well they sail, the wave only lasts long enough for four checks.
Gather Fish (1–4 checks, fisher only): The fisher uses balance and upper body strength to scoop up fish at high speeds. Each time the sailor successfully keeps the boat moving, the fisher has a chance to catch fish. The more they catch, the higher the team’s score. However, more fish make the boat heavier, making it harder for the sailor to handle. A team can return to shore without Gathering Fish all four rounds.
The rope creaks beneath Kal's fingers as he watches the waves approaching. I must be more nervous than I thought. He forces himself not to look back at the others; should Arfi be doing this instead? No... no you're the sailor. It should be you. Even if you've never been the one steering.
Then the doubts fall away as he catches sight of dolphins leaping and playing in the shadow of an approaching wave. "This one," he says to the Stranger, managing not to make it a question.
Muscled as he is, Kallistratos is still slightly built, it means that with every toss and curl of the sea beneath him he needs to fling his entire bodyweight into keeping the momentum of the little boat true, and giving the Stranger as much time as possible to net the fish. It's exhausting, but it's familiar. As he's preparing to head back to shore there's another familiar sensation, a prickling of doom at the back of his head as the wind surges up behind him, whirling, grabbing, threatening to capsize the boat and send him down into the watery depths, or worse falling up and up and up into the sky. Jealous bastard. He bears down hard, the keel spraying saltwater straight up into his eyes but he keeps them open, needing every scrap of awareness to guide his sail and use the fickle wind to push them both riding ahead of it!
Their haul is good, but after a couple minutes of breath it's time to go again. Kal once more is planning to follow an easy course when a flash of orange draws his eye. "The Big One..." A gleam flashes in his eyes as he looks at the Stranger. "Well we just have to, don't we?"
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Stranger steps up alongside Kallistratos doffing his armor and leaving it with his teammates, however the stag seems reluctant to part with his bow and simply keeps the small thing slung over one shoulder as they pick their craft.
He'd never seen dolphins despite his many years among the pathways of Iblydos so he was quite at awe with them when they joined alongside the pair in their hunt for sardines. He felt a strange connection with them however, like a distant memory from when he was more like them. He waved and clicked ushering the dolphins to play and splash flicking heaps of salty sardines into their small skiff even as he skimmed the waters for the rest of their haul.
After the return to shore and the second outing, having worked for his entire life with a companion he trusted Kallistratos with his entire being. Using his dexterous bulk to swoop low into the water to quickly snatch the massive brilliant tuna from the waters. Even when Kallistratos was blinded he subtly leaned in the direction the swarm of fish were thickest before setting himself back in position to catch them. Just enough to engage the driver of where they needed to go when they were soaked with spray. With Tuna in the haul and the net burdened near to bursting, they returned triumphantly to the shore.
He bowed his crowned head to Kallistratos with a affirming grunt after their ordeal.
The Sand Kholo's blue eyes widen at the moment it's suggested he participate in the sailing and fishing event.
My stomach seems a bit queasy for such high seas shenanigans.
Oinos watches the competition from the shoreline. "I do love a good sardine. But, I like to keep my hooves on solid ground."
The other teams take their turns, with the top teams hauling in impressive catches.
The Golden Pegasi: Thanks to Yphani’s strength, this team nets a huge amount of fish at first, but her mass tips the boat, spilling much of the catch. The team harvests 13 bulk.
The Pearl Chasers: With Mellita at the sails and Phel wielding the net, this team harvests 16 bulk.
Team Akki: Akki is a natural sailor, leading their team to harvest 18 bulk.
Final Results: Your team takes first place, earning 5 medallions. Team Akki takes second place, earning 3 medallions. The Pearl Chasers come in third place, earning one medallion.
Leaderboard:
Kleos Athanatoi 5
Team Akki 3
The Pearl Chasers 1
***
"Well done! You looked like quite the natural on the waves," Phel says to Kallistratos, offering their congratulations. The other Pearl Chasers nod with respect, though the members of Team Akki seem irritated that you were able to outperform them.
"A toast: To the Kleos Athanatoi and all wwho ply the waves!" Oinos celebrates ethusiastically, pulling a pouch of wine out from somewhere.
Kal grins broadly, the sheepishness he feels at the praise slightly overcome by the warmth of his pride. "If you catch the wind in your sails, it can never overtake you. The sea has always seemed like... freedom."
After celebrating your victory and resting up overnight, you reconvene the next day for the pyre relay. This elaborate event is a multi-stage race that recreates one of Bailax’s favorite legends. As you arrive, you see judges driving horse-drawn chariots away from the city as spectators gather on nearby hills. Terpsime stands atop a small stage, leaning on a barrel bristling with javelins.
Terpsime raises her arms for attention, recites an invocation to nymph muses, and shares the upcoming event’s origins. “Long ago, when the bites of a miasmic amphisbaena left her friend dying, the hero-god Kaile sought a cure from cyclopean sages. They prophesied that only the sacred tekolis herb hidden deep in the forest could purge the venom, which would kill her friend three dawns hence. Though the forest was distant, Kaile wasted no time, racing the first dawn’s sunlight as it spilled across the landscape. She climbed the morning mist as a shortcut, yet this drew the attention of her nemesis, the demon lord Nurgal. Hoping to stop her, he focused the sun’s rays at her, burning the mist away. As she descended from the sky, Kaile hurled a javelin at the sun, wounding Nurgal, but not before the scorching sun set the island ablaze. She raced on. Then, herb in hand, she seized a passing chariot and rushed back under cover of night, the wildfires lighting her way. For her efforts, she arrived just before dawn, saved her friend, and inspired Pol-Bailax forever.
“Today, we recreate her journey with the Pyre Relay. Each team will race along the marked route: traveling the clouds, descending from the sky, treading the burning fields, and wounding Nurgal before you retrieve the herb and race your chariot back to Bailax. When the first team is ready, approach the starting line!”
Critical Success: You guess what two obstacles of your choice entail, including suitable skills used to bypass it.
Success: As critical success, but you only identify one obstacle.
Failure: You gain no noteworthy insights.
Critical Failure: You incorrectly guess an obstacle’s details and skill checks.
Oinos will try to remember what he can about previous races.
Arfi-em-khet watches the water polo performance with both encouragement and uneasiness.
Thinking about the possible routes offered for the Pyre Relay, the Kholo's attempts to predict the route.
You take your positions along the relay route. Terpsime signals Arfi to start things off!
TREADING CLOUDS
Kaile climbed the morning mist. For this pyre relay, contestants must navigate a different, fluffy obstacle: a pen packed with sheep. A contestant might weave between the sheep, push them aside, or herd them away to reach the other side. Those able to speak with sheep might convince them to move.
Chase Points: 2; Overcome: DC 16 Nature, DC 16 Intimidation, DC 16 Acrobatics, or DC 17 Athletics
STEEP DESCENT
The route descends from a hilltop down a steep slope. The precarious footing and loose rubble could easily trip anyone who doesn’t step carefully or spot a good path—or even follow the tracks and safe path left by a previous contestant.
Chase Points: 2; Overcome: DC 16 Acrobatics, DC 16 Survival, DC 17 Perception, or DC 17 Reflex
Standing stoically staring at the sheep, the Kholo's blue eyes roll.
Mush puppies!
The kholo begins rolling up the sleeves of his robes!
He considers using his Kineticist tricks, but, he does enjoy a good sheep over the barbie.
It seems like his sheep shoving is a bit ....soft!
Standing stoically staring at the sheep, the Kholo's blue eyes roll.
Mush puppies!
The kholo begins rolling up the sleeves of his robes!
He considers using his Kineticist tricks, but, he does enjoy a good sheep over the barbie.
It seems like his sheep shoving skills are ...soft!
Bruised, battered, blistered, the frustrated Kholo's blue eyes look down the Steep Descent.
Not chancing this one, the Earth Kineticist summons the very ground to reallocate it's positioning.
He frowns.
He confidently steps....
Arfi-em-khet then looks at his friends a bit sheepishly....
It takes a while, but Arfi finally makes it down the steep hillside to where Kal and the Stranger are waiting to run the next part of the relay!
FIELDS AFLAME
Nurgal set fire to the island to stop Kaile. The pyre relay has a safer recreation: walking a shallow trench filled with hot coals. A contestant must dance across the embers or endure the heat.
Chase Points: 2; Overcome: DC 16 Fortitude, DC 17 Acrobatics, or DC 17 Performance
***
NURGAL'S EYE
A chariot with two horses awaits. Three posts stand along one side of the road ahead, each topped with a broad ring, inside which is suspended a smaller ring. Like Kaile, the contestant must blind Nurgal with javelins. As a contestant drives the chariot, they must throw their three javelins through the large rings; if two PCs participate here, one can steer and the other throw. They must Strike successfully at least twice (piercing the large rings) or critically succeed at the Strike once (hitting the smaller suspended ring) in order to proceed. If they don’t, they must retrieve the javelins and drive by again to earn additional points.
Before each throw, a contestant must steer the chariot. This Aids the next attack attempted by whoever throws the javelin.
Chase Points: 2; Overcome: Ranged attack with a javelin against AC 16
Steer: DC 14 Vehicle Lore, DC 16 Games Lore, or DC 16 Nature
Kal sweats and curses as he runs through the field, feet smoldering. The Dryad that taught me how to deal with pursuit told me to stay away from fire... Still, so long as he keeps running he doesn't have time to burn; he knows how to keep running.
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The Stranger attempts the coal walk, but his sensitive hooves prove too little to aid him in this task. So he sits to the side while Kallistratos manages the challenge.
Once they're onto the next segment he tries to redeem himself by driving and throwing the javelins. He always thought his partner had the better aim, but he had seen the form of a rider throwing the sharpened sticks enough that he believed he had it down. The horses took some extra coaxing the second go around but he managed to nail his second target pn the second pass.
Pushing the group onto the final series of challenges.
With two more obstacles down, it's time for Oinos to shine!
HIDDEN HERB
The figurative herb isn’t hidden within the wood. Instead, it’s a large, green marble trapped instead a puzzle box about 1 foot in each dimension. One side of the box is clear glass, and the other five are made of wood, with a strange dial mounted on one of the sides. The only opening into the box winds through a small maze of twisting passages, requiring the box be carefully tilted to navigate the marble through the maze. A stack of long wires nearby could also be twisted into a useful shape to fish out the marble. Finally, a contestant might decipher the dial’s symbols and meaning, using it as a combination lock to open the box.
Chase Points 2; Overcome (Lock) DC 16 Arcana, 16 Thievery, or DC 18 Perception
Chase Points 2; Overcome (Marble) DC 15 Thievery, DC 16 Crafting, or DC 17 Reflex
Oinos looks down at the puzzle box: "Drat whatever sphinx-minded villain invented this thing."
He tries to twist it just right to pop the lock.
It takes a few tries, but he gets it!
RACING CHARIOTS
With the herb recovered, the contestants reunite and drive their chariot back toward Bailax and the finish line. The first leg of this route travels along the coast before turning inland for the second leg.
Chase Points: 4; Overcome DC 15 Driving Lore, DC 16 Games Lore, DC 16 Nature, or DC 17 Intimidation
Oinos whispers to the horses, "Run now, you sons of the sea. Crash down upon the shores of Bailax!"
You make excellent time on the chariot, reaching the inland turn within a few minutes. However, from here, you overlook what appears to be a recently wrecked ship in the surf below. The stern juts out above the surface, while the rest of the ship lies below the waves.
“Your assistance, please!” shouts a bedraggled man with two prominent horns, patches of fishlike scales covering some of his skin, and torn clothing. “Our ship—the Shoalskimmer—it came under attack and wrecked not far from here. My companions… what’s left of them… they need aid immediately.” He motions to be followed, pausing only to pick up several fist-sized rocks before jogging back toward the coast.
"I'm hungry for glory, but we should help mariners if they are in trouble," Oinos says. "I'd rather be known as a rescuer than for driving horses."
The Kholo's advice seems to be a bit not correct.
Arfi-em-khet's blue eyes turn to peer out at sea. The Desert kholo nods.
Lives are precious as each grain of sand that lifts us. To the boats!