I need to apologize for not being around. Yes, I am alive, and no, I haven't abandoned you. When I'm not exhausted from work, I've been at the doctor's or sick in bed these last few days. I'll pick up again in the morning.
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I need to apologize for not being around. Yes, I am alive, and no, I haven't abandoned you. When I'm not exhausted from work, I've been at the doctor's or sick in bed these last few days. I'll pick up again in the morning.
Bastion cleaves through one of the creatures, his well-made but non-magical blade seeping hard enough to drive the gaseous creature apart completely.
Tentacles of mist wrap around Cirri, wrenching here arms painfully, despite the creature's gaseous nature. Other tentacles
GM Screen:
@Alexandre:
These ghosts are serious. And there are a lot of them. Yet, there is some illusion at play here. You realized in a flash of inspiration that the two elven leaders aren't really ghosts at all, but are somehow glamoured to appear as ghosts. The leaders seem very serious about attacking if you don't depart, however. @Bartholomew:
The elf who spoke was lying. His speech patterns are wrong for the time period he's supposed to represent. When you realize that he's only pretending to be a ghost, the illusions are easier to see.
You're not sure about the female elf, however. She might really be a ghost. @Lolly:
You're set to believe the male ghost's story, but something about the movement is wrong, too similar to a spell you read about once. You realize that it's an illusion made to make him appear as a ghost. And when you realize this, you see the same tell-tale signs on the female elf. Her ghostly appearance is an illusion too. But what about the silent, unmoving platoon? Things are becoming tense, as the ghostly elves fail to respond to your calls. "Leave now," the male calls, "Or our judgements will fall upon you."
@Bastion:
Much like the had you fought earlier, these are "shadow conjurations". They are inadequate imitations of the real thing. Real enough to still be deadly trouble, but not as horrific as the original beasts they mimic. As they are not entirely real, they must not have triggered as evil.
Your realization that these creatures are illusory shadow made solid aids in combatting them.
GM screen:
Yes: B
Ackuda calls fortune down on Cirri, and Goupil inspires courage. Inkita's spell misses badly as she mistimes her throw. Cirri charges her quarterstaff, and swings, her actions lucky and inspired by the help from her party, but the mist forms stay out of the way.
Cirri, Ackuda, and Goupil recognize these creatures as Mihstus. These are gaseous, evil creatures from the elemental plane of air. @Ackuda & Goupil:
The miasmal form or these mist creatures roils as barbed tentacles emerge from the central mass, coalescing into razor-sharp talons and claws.
Bartholomew approaches the ghostly platoon. The leaders turn to face him, but the rank and file soldiers do not react. The male elf specter responds to Bartholomew's hail. "We are at peace, invader! Depart so that we may continue our vigilant duty!" Spoiler:
Ackuda pulls out his scroll and casts a spell, while Cirri and Bastion both use their wands. Init:
Two mist figures fly up from the room below. One stops adjacent to Cirri, the other next to Bastion.
The statue with Wulessa's face animates and speaks: “I remember this. It was my rst expedition after joining the Path nder Society. We discovered a lost shrine to—I will not speak his name—The King of Wind Demons. We sought a golden icon hidden in the altar. The way down was easier than expected. There were traps, but we bypassed them. The way to the shrine was hidden, but we found the trigger to open it. And then... there were guardians. Here. Two of us died. They came from the air itself. I think you are in danger! Here, take this; it may aid you against the dangers here.” No sooner as she finished speaking than a fully coiled rope falls from the ceiling, landing on the floor at Cirri's feet. As Wulessa speaks, you can hear the sound of wind rushing through hidden vents, building in climax. A few short seconds later vapor starts pooling on the floow below the catwalk.
Bastion:
Bastion continues to try and detect evil, but finds nothing. As Cirri steps in to the room, ... nothing interesting happens. The statue radiates as magical, with components of mostly illusion with hints of transmutation and divination in a combination that you know are well beyond your experience to disentangle. Goupil recognizes the altar as something related to a demon of some kind. Often, such altars have a golden icon nearby.
Opting not to spend the several hours working on the portcullis in the back entrance, the party move around to the front. Scorch marks mar the stones of this dilapidated keep. Vegetation hangs loosely from holes in the partially collapsed ceiling, and the floor is sunken and cracked in several places. A charred wooden door lies on the ground in front of an archway leading west. To the north, a stone trap door peeks out from behind a pile of rubble. As you approach, you see the ghostly forms of two elves, a male and a female, and an array of ghostly, translucent line soldiers standing in perfect formation. The two elves, clearly in charge, walk quietly in front of the unmoving ghostly troops.
The party moves down the hallway opposite the void. As the passage curves toward a set of doors, the glass tiles suddenly give way to worked stone. Without moving, you're in a different place. Behind you, the hallway ends in uniform walls, as though the glowing glass hallway you came down was never there. The doors in front of you open onto a balcony overlooking a wide chamber. A winged statue formed out of the stone wall looms ominously from across the room. Catwalks wind around the edges and across the room, leading to a primitive altar in front of the statue. Above and below the suspended middle level of the room, gratings in the floor and ceiling produce a constant upward-moving breeze. While the statue seems crafted to represent a male human-avian hybrid, its face is unmistakably that of Wulessa Yuul.
As Goupil speaks, images of his experiences—those things that make up his character—flash on the wall panels. At mention of the Society, images of the Society, its purpose, and its leaders (as seen through Goupil's eyes) flash briefly as well. The wall pulses a deep purple, perhaps in acknowledgement or thanks. The wall responds to Cirri in a similar but different way. She vocalized nothing about herself other than her name. As she mentions the Society, similar images flash, this time from her perspective. The images are presented in sequence, filling up only part of the wall. The remainder remains black and unlit, with a single panel separating the images of Cirri and the blankness flashing pulsing white repeatedly. Waiting...
Lolly searches, but finds nothing useful.
Alexandre forms his any-tool into a saw, but he realizes as he's doing so that it will take a very long time (probably three hours) to saw through several solid bars. of iron.
Bartholomew sneaks to the rear tunnel, seemingly unspotted. The trapdoor is easy enough to open. Guaril mutters something about not liking being stuck underground, but follows. The tunnel goes deep and straight . Eventually, the way is barred by an iron portcullis.
Guaril sighs audibly, then shudders. He's clearly uncomfortable in these confined quarters.
Bastion calls upon his faith, but his god offers no indication that evil is present. The tile respond to Cirri, but the response is a bit confused. You see images showing a set of scales or chains breaking and being reforged. You don't recognize any images relating Wulessa. The eye returns, then a single image of each of you flashes in turn, ending with a question mark as before.
You look out over the void. It's vast, and dark. You see nothing beyond the ledge, except a deep purple mist and, occasionally, a flash of crystal.
Some deep primal sense hints there is nothing for you in the void. Yet, as you stare out, you have the distinct impression there is something staring back. The tiles on the walls opposite the void flash with pictures. Light and dark, moving shapes and whorls of color combine. You realize that the moving images are your thoughts. And then they're something else. The pictures are replaced with images of eyes, many hundreds of pictures, theat when zoomed out also somehow make the image of an eye. The images fade, and you see a large question mark appear on the tiles.
Knowledge(see above) DC 18:
Fort Ursoss was originally built almost a thousand years ago during the Shining Crusade, although only the basement level of the original fort remains. The Molthuni army rebuilt and restored the surface structures of the fort shortly after declaring independence from Cheliax. When Nirmathas in turn rebelled against Molthune, Nirmathi guerilla fighters set fire to the fort rather than allow it to fall into Molthuni hands. The fire devastated the aboveground portions of the fort, but left the ancient basement level relatively intact. Guaril Karela goes with you. Along the way, he explains that many of the old forts in the area possess hidden escape routes, and suggests you scout the area surrounding the fort before proceeding inside. Dice:
Bartholomew puts his investigator skills to work, and deduces a good location for such a tunnel, about 300 feet west of the fort ruins.
Guaril nods at Lukaas. "Forts Faelon and Ursoss are both in swampy areas. Those areas are almost certainly heavy with mosquitos." He barks a laugh at Alexandre's conclusion. "It seems you learned a bit more than I did, then." You set off for Fort Ursoss.
The room shimmers and changes again. The shape remains the same, but the walls and floor resolve into a series of glass tiles that creates a checkerboard of luminescent blue and light- swallowing black. The door vanishes, revealing a passage filled with the same half-light. Opposite this, the room breaks away entirely. An entire wall is missing, leaving a jagged hole overlooking a void occupied by nothing more than deep purple mist, seemingly born out of and reabsorbed by the darkness. Somewhere in the depths, a tremendous crystalline shape ashes through the mist. The room is otherwise featureless, devoid of all angles. Even the floor has a slight curvature, melding smoothly into the walls.
Cirri opens the Chronicle and finds it is not a children's book at all, despite the colorful cover, but the complete, unabridged text, with all of the gore and the boring parts still included. Cirri questions the image of Wulessa in the mirror. “We are in a mental landscape, as I had thought, yet it seems to be patterned off of my mind. I can feel some entity controlling the archive—I was correct in that much. But invoking the scroll seems to have caused it to add me to the archive rather than granting me access.” “I can feel the days of my life being transcribed. Pulled from my body and stored here. I don’t know if there will be anything left of me when it is done. I can’t even move around. I’m simply trapped inside my own memories." "Perhaps I can ... Yes, ... Wait ..." There is a slight popping sound from the vanity. Wulessa nods to it. "I can manifest some magic still, although not in the way I normally would. Please, take this," she says, nodding to the vanity. "It's dangerous to go alone."
It takes some doing, and some focus, but you will your mind forward.
The following day, Guaril Karela returns to Ashfall Lodge to meet and compare notes. “I hope you uncovered some information, my friends,” says Guaril as he applies a dab of wax to his moustache, “For my investigation was only partially successful. My sources tell me that the filthy weasels stealing my cargo are hiding in an abandoned fort. Which fort, they could not say. I would have learned more, but some men...they cannot tolerate pain, eh? Sadly for us, the Nirmathi abandoned many forts after the last Molthuni invasion. These four are our best bets.” He has marked the four most likely forts marked on it. The forts are Fort Faelon, Fort Machema, Fort Ursoss, and Fort Drejas.
Alexandre was right to be suspicious, and certainly right to be frustrated. Your search has led you ... precisely nowhere.
Kyra tends to the wounded, friend and enemy alike. The Razmiri priest is too far gone for her ministrations, but the archers can be questioned. It's quickly clear they believe submission to the living god (Razmir) is the only way to end the war with Molthune and bring peace to Nirmathas. They refuse to give up any information. Intimidate, charm, etc.:
If physically or magically coerced, they explain being told that the Pathfinders were the last barrier to Razmir’s dominance of Tamran, though none can explain exactly how. In short, there is little to guide your next step, so returning to Ashfall Lodge seems like the best option.
I'm having some issues with my chronicle, won;t download properly. Can you double check the permissions on it? Hmm.. Permissions looks good. Here is a link, maybe this one will work.
1. When I played it, my GM gave it to me open-ended too. The text suggests that the "Defender of Time" is the most appropriate for this table, and a stricter re-reading of the scenario bears this out. I won't declare which you have to choose, but "Defender of Time" seems a good choice anyway. 2. That question is above my pay grade, but I would guess so. A quick forum search did not reveal an answer (nor did I see the question asked elsewhere). 3.
Lolly and her guardian spirit look inside. The room isn't terribly revealing. It seems the Razmiri priest simply co-opted the space for his ambush. Should someone wish to search the bodies: Each soldier carries a copy of Behold the Living God!, a lengthy religious pamphlet extolling Razmir’s miracles and the rewards that await his loyal servants. It seems they were not just soldiers, but also zealots of some kind.
Ackuda attempts to determine information about any magic in the room. There is a great deal of strong illusion as well as some other auras that are difficult to tease apart.
Cirri studies the room, starting under the bed, and moving on from there. When she searches the bookshelf, Cirris notices that all of the books are styled as child’s picture books, with bright pictures and big lettering, but further inspection shows that the texts are far more advanced than a child could read—each is an issue of the Pathfinder Chronicles or a well-known arcane text. How very odd. Cirri's general search continues, and she passes the mirror, where she previously saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Wulessa, as you remember her, stares back at you from inside the glass. She gives a start upon seeing the you then speaks. She sounds worried and concerned, but not yet panicked. “You’re here! I thought, with how things had gone wrong, that perhaps you weren’t trapped in here as well. I... am sorry. I think I erred in my assumptions.”
The remaining solider is held fast.
So, does this place count as being abandoned at least 1,000 years ago? Technically the serpentfolk city is 10,000 years old, right? I've thought about it. I was going to say no, but re-reading the chronicle convinced me otherwise. So yes, I think it counts.
Cirri moves to the door, but it refuses to open. Indeed, it's not a door at all, but more like the image of a door, or a painting of a door. The wall is smooth under your touch, as if there were no door at all.
Sir Trystas downs his foe, leaving only a single zealot remaining .
The stone walls of Farseer Tower melt away, replaced by warm blonde wooden wall paneling and a plush, lemon yellow carpet. A canopied bed sits between two windows, through which the spires of an grand city are visible. A small army of dolls is pushed over to a corner, its slumping forms indicating some level of neglect. Instead, the preferred playthings in this child’s room seem to be books. A row of titles line a shelf on one wall, and several opened ones lie on the bed. Opposite the bed are a closed door and an elaborate vanity table. A mirror on the vanity reflects some motion not apparent in the room itself.
The room is cramped with the whole party inside, but it would suit a single person well enough.
A final strike with Cirri's cold iron blade is enough to fell the creature. It's somewhat odd, as those with familiarity with hags, whether through study or lore, realize this fight was much easier than it should have been. Something is definitely off. You have little time to ponder the discrepancies of the battle and it's under-powered foe, or the problem of the curtains billowing without wind (to say nothing of the black grayness beyond the covered window) when reality seems to melt around you fading to nothingness. Someone has time to grab the fallen archive scroll from the floor as the world disappears around it.
Thunder cracks and the ground shakes, but the hag stays standing through Cirri's spell. The hag turns on Bastion, angry at its earlier wounds, and rakes with her claws. Neither hand makes it past Bastion's stout armor.
GM Screen:
Bartholomew strips the quarterstaff from the foul priest's hands, and Alexandre drives home a killing blow. The priest falls in the mud, and Alexandre calls on the archers to surrender. "Our faith gives us strength!" they respond, as they renew their attack. It seems these are not mere mercenaries after all.
Cirri:
Bastion:
As you shake off the spell, you realize that it's off somehow. Your brain finally registers what's wrong: this creature is only a shadow of its normal self, not quite an illusion, but less than it usually is. Goupil begins to perform the magic of the bard, inspiring courage for his companions. Bastion smites the hag, wounding it gravely.
GM notes:
Per the boon instructions:
Unfortunately, no player boons. :-( I had a great bit of fun, and I hope you did too. It looks like everyone has their info posted, so Chronicles coming by end of day tomorrow. I'll post Chronicles on my Google Drive, unless anyone prefers to have it emailed (send a PM, if so).
Xukong's swing cleaves the rogue in two, and you stand relieved but panting from the exertion. Claiming the Sky Key vault will not be easy. Others have found and dispatched the anchors holding the vault here, so the only task remaining is to reclaim the vault. The image of Kreighton Shane moves down the stairs. You try not to be obviously miffed at how little he helped during the battle. “Good show, Pathfinders,” the injured form of Kreighton Shaine manages between blood-soaked coughs. “But Lady Arodeth is a true savant and driven to fanatical extremes. The same energies that infected her casters above have also seized her soul, and I fear she has already killed several of your fellow chroniclers. Or will have killed them. Blast, but this is confusing.” Shaine props himself up to continue speaking. “However noble her goals may have been, if Lady Arodeth forces us to remain in this time, we will all die. If the Sky Key is still functional, you must reactivate it before the Starstone arrives.”
Shaine continues, “She has learned to create temporal copies of, as I have. She can produce an army, left unchecked. Some teams will need to hold the line here, in this chamber, so that anyone confronting the true Lady Arodeth in the room beyond isn’t overwhelmed by these simulacra. You know your team’s capabilities better than I, but I promise you Lady Arodeth will be not yield easily.” With that, the chorus of murky green figures announce, “I would have brought destiny back to this world.”
Bastion stands and draws his weapon. The hag waggles her fingers and releases a burst of sickening energy that causes everyone to feel sleepy.
@Baston & @Cirri:
Lolly hurries to heal the cleric, and Kyra continues the effort with a healing spell of her own. Sir Trystan slams his foe with both "arms" of ectoplasm, and connects with the second hit.
The two remaining archers watch their friend leave on confusion, but continue to fight on. The one on the left (red) staggers in fear from the spirit's attack, but swings his handaxe in desperation, missing.
The archer is green doesn't fare much better, as his arrow targeting the now-healed cleric misses.
Alexandre stabs the priest deeply, but the big man stays standing. Bartholomew attempts a disarm, stepping in and striking at the priest's hands, but the priest deftly protects his quarterstaff. The priest cackles with glee, and continues to press his attack on the annoying swashbuckler. Alexandre easily deflects the attack, but is unable to capitalize on his opening.
The archer in green hurries off, calling to his companions to cease their volleys and come join him in a drink.
@Inkita: There is something odd about the hag, almost as if it's not real. Or at least, less real than it seems. Even the room itself is odd, as if noticing the discrepancy with the wind in the curtains opened your eyes.
Ackuda casts his spell, and senses strong magic everywhere. Inkita rises and searches the room. The curtains are odd. Although they billow in a slight breeze, the window behind them is closed, and nothing is visible beyond except a solid, endless gray. Cirri and Bastion both speak, nearly simultaneously. As they address the Venture-Captain, she raises her head, and you see a horrible green creature with scraggly hair. The hag cackles hideously, and you shudder almost involuntarily. "The trap is sprung, and you are dinner." The creature that had once been your VC bares her claws, and springs to attack. Init:
Dearel misses, but Xukong strikes deeply, nearly felling the remaining harbinger in one blow. The rogue manages to push through the effects of the spell, however.
With Xukong on one side and Amba on the other, things are looking bleak for the rogue in yellow. He slashes out hastily at Xukong, but the blade is turned aside easily.
Kyra channels again, once more excluding two of your foes from the wave of positive energy. The mercenary in red continues to shake as the spirit of Sir Trystas approaches. He drops his bow and draws a handaxe.
The archer in blue tries to shoot Kyra again, but is too hasty and his arrow goes high.
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