The Fist's 'clubhouse' is the upper floor of a small scale rug merchant rather than the traditional tavern. Exactly why this is, none of you know, but it does make it much easier to enter the lower part of the building multiple times through the day.
Mel goes first just after the shop opens for the day, calling to enquire whether the shop would be interested in purchasing any of her employer's wares. Her work on her accent, combined with Evie's sterling work with her disguise do the trick and she spends half an hour hammering out (fictitious, but plausible) details with the shopkeeper. This gives her plenty of time to observe the initial comings and goings and by the time she leaves she has ascertained two important facts.
1. There is no entrance to the upper floors from inside the shop.
2. Based on the noise from upstairs, early morning is not a time that the Fists of Erastil favor.
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Louis's time and effort eventually pay off as he negotiates a sale with some of the small street stalls near the back of the clubhouse. Its presence near the Lion's Den makes for an easy conversation starter, especially for a tired man longing for a little company and Louis is more than convincing enough that one of the stall-holders pays him a little over the odds with a sly wink.
"Ask for Nareena when you get there." He suggests with a smile. "She'll shake the dust out of your trousers. Gotta love redheads am I right?"
It only takes a little more discussion of redheads and their characters before the man mentions. "Saw a new girl in the street yesterday, gorgeous red hair and she was cursin' up a storm. Definitely on somethin' though - she had a sheet and one shoe, not a stitch more. One of the lads from the club above Sahara's came down and managed to convince her to go back inside. Seemed real sweet on 'er. Good luck to 'im. Toby's a good lad - deserves a nice girl."
The next stallholder has similar sentiments. "Toby is a good boy. He'd have made something of himself if he'd been born anywhere else." She opinions loudly. "I've told him time and again that he needs to go to one of them schools, learn his letters properly and get a decent trade but he's too loyal to that old man of 'is. Won't let 'im go, no matter that the old fart just sits about and drinks all day."
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As Reiko makes her way around the district, asking questions and trying to gather information, she finds herself being followed by a hard-bitten pair, one man and one woman, both of whom make no pretense of hiding their interest in her. As a connoisseur of such things however Reiko is certain that their interest is professional, rather than prurient.
"Heard you askin' questions." The woman says as the two close in on Reiko at the entrance to a quiet alleyway. "Don't get strangers round 'ere much, askin' questions. Some people need to be taught'a keep their trap shut."
The man behind her draws a cudgel and the woman has some lovely knuckledusters large and solid rings on both hands.
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Evie's own hard work doesn't bare fruit until late in the day when, just as she's considering leaving, an older man comes up to her.
"Excuse me miss, are you a scribe?" He asks, his diction clean and well educated although his hands shake badly. "I'm a lawyer locally and a client has just come to me quite urgently. His daughter is unwell and they have no money for a priest. They want me to draw up a will but my usual lad is away visiting his aunt. I confess I saw you earlier today when I was getting my lunch and I asked after you. Would you be kind enough to come to my office in an hour? I'll pay you of course, on top of the standard fee."
Evie SM:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
The man seems truthful as far as Evie can tell and she vaguely recalls seeing him earlier in the day, which lends a certain amount of veracity to his story.
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These events happen roughly in the order that they are posted and take place throughout the day, so Mel's is in the early morning, Louis gets his information during the middle of the day, then both Reiko and Evie are approached in the late afternoon/early evening as shopkeepers are beginning to close down for the night.
"Whatever indeed?" Sariel replies, her voice suddenly sounding completely different (although the accent sounds more Tien than Vudran to Louis' practised ear).
Some time later, as Louis is preparing to depart Sariel informs him that the book she wants can be found in the Madam's office, just off the main entranceway. Taking some time to reconnoiter the area Louis returns to the bar to observe the madam's comings and goings before attempting to charm the bartender into giving up some information.
Surprisingly the bartender resists the magic but, apparently lonely, falls completely for Louis' more conventional charms, so much so that when Louis tries again to weave a little magic into his words he is utterly smitten and agrees to a private tryst in the nearest private space - which just so happens to be the madams office.
After their trysting is done Louis the Lascivious proposes that the barkeeper leaves first, suffering a momentary pang as he does so. Damn, he thinks to himself, I don't even know the man's name. This thought doesn't dissuade him from his plan though and, left alone in the office, conducts a swift search that turns up nothing.
A second search for magic is more productive - locating a magical bookmark in an otherwise humdrum book. Once the bookmark is removed the illusion falls away and Louis finds that he is holding the madam's purple book - exactly as asked.
Slipping back through the crowd is an exercise in luck, but fortune favours Louis as an argument breaks out in the main room - distracting the madam and giving him a chance to return to Sariel. After lingering awkwardly until she finishes with her next client he slips back inside.
"Now where are they holding Abigail?" He asks, holding up the book but not handing it over.
"At their 'clubhous' across the street." Sariel replies, disdain clear in her tone. "They occasionally hire some of us for a night and Liz was there last night. Said they had a redhead there but she wasn't part of the entertainment. She told me one of them bragged about 'a big payday coming' and promised he'd take away from all this. Same old story." The woman suddenly looks very tired. "Your best bet would be early morning or later in the afternoon when they have a lot of people out. Now, my payment."
Louis hands the book over and departs safely, thus concluding the most exciting night of misadventure he's had since... last week!
The Lion's Den is... not the nicest establishment Louis has ever spent time in. It's also not the worst, but it is definitely on that end of the scale. Much like the entire Tamuth district really. Still it has the most important things, a large, intimidating looking man at the door who takes Louis' false name with utter indifference but does check him thoroughly for weapons, a smiling and overly-made-up woman to greet him at the door full of fake charm and a mixture of girls and boys in varying states of undress. Rather than being the more upscale establishment where the workers mingle with patrons in a civilised manner this is more like a common tavern - it simply has an upper story with an open balcony, where the workers 'advertise' their wares.
Sariel can be seen there, wrapped in an opaque robe which hints but does not reveal. Her eyes are large and dark, made all the more so by make up which seems to emphasise her exotic looks. Louis meanwhile finds himself at the bar where he purchases a mug of uninspired ale and tries not to touch anything he doesn't have to. It takes a few more minutes before he catches Sariel's eye from above and she gestures him upstairs.
The room Louis finds himself in shortly afterwards is sparse, although two or three lengths of red silk have been hung to give it a more 'exotic' air. Sariel, meanwhile, perches on the bed and looks Louis up and down.
"You're pretty enough that I'd probably provide you with the usual service as well if you want." She says, her voice alarming normal and a complete contrast to her exotic looks. "But you're here for information. I have it, and I have the price you need too."
She pauses, checking that she has Louis' full attention, and then smiles slyly. "The Madam has a record book, it's purple and quite thick. I want it and once I have it I'll tell you where the Fist have your red-headed friend. Because they do have her."
She grins and then stands up, slipping her robe off one dusky shoulder. "So? What will it be?"
Sariel accepts the chocolates with a measured nod and a sharp glance at Evangeline. She is too well schooled in business to believe that any gift comes for free.
"The Fist have become more bold recently." She agrees, tugging gently at the wrapping paper. "They were nobodies, but now they move with less caution. Boys wear their emblem with pride and the district fears them. I do not know exactly why but they seem to have power behind them now - real power. They are pawns in someone else's game I think. Kidnapping a public figure like your friend... that tells me I am right. It is too big a move for them."
She stops and looks Evangeline dead in the eye. "Involving yourself here is a risk Fixer. You will not be able to ward off these people with a whispered word in the right ear. I hope your tien friend over there is as capable as she looks. You pay so well for favours that I'd be sad to lose you as a client. As for your request..." She pauses a moment. "Send one of your friends tonight, I'll have them booked in at the tenth bell. The pretty boy or the dark-haired girl. Not your muscle and not you. We don't want anyone making connections do we?" Sariel arches one manicured eyebrow in amusement.
"As for the price, you can keep your pass. I'll tell your friend tonight what you owe me."
She leans in to kiss Evangeline's cheek in friendly fashion and then stands up and leaves, brushing past Louis and letting her fingers drag slowly across his chest as she goes.
Unfortunately making arrangements to meet with a Lady of Negotiable Affection, particularly if one isn't planning to pay, is a slow task. Even with Evangeline emphasising the urgency of the meet the short note she receives in return simply says Valor Park, fourth bell. Tomorrow.
As the meeting rolls around Evangeline and anyone else who chooses linger in the park are met by a tall dark skinned woman with the wide almond-shaped eyes of vudrani heritage. Her eyelashes are spectacularly long, although largely hidden beneath a dull coloured wrap which covers her whole head. Seeing Evangeline she nods slightly and heads for the appointed bench, sitting with precise movements.
"So, Fixer. It has been a long time since we have spoken. I assume you have a favour you would like to ask?" In contrast to her exotic looks, her accent is almas common and her tone is neither friendly nor unfriendly - purely business in fact. "I am a busy woman so lets not mess around with empty words and false flattery"
It takes Melenae and Louis quite some time to figure out where they have seen the insignia before, but they eventually recall a minor incident when Senator Trand first arrived in Almas and some of his servants were waylaid when they wandered into a district that they, unknowingly, didn't belong in. No great harm was done but you recall a name 'Erastil's Fist' and are fairly sure that they operate out of the Tamuth district of the city - an unpleasant and generally neglected area of the city which has resisted the efforts of more than one Supreme Elect to 'clean it up'. Ultimately the money and political capital are both lacking for a project like that.
By the time the 'friends' have been door to door, endured the lengthy ramblings of the owner and combed their memories for the significance of the badge Reiko and Evie have returned from their interrogation with the Watch. It is now the middle of the afternoon and the streets are starting to become busier as children escape their lessons and citizens throng the streets to complete their last business of the day.
The watch subjects Reiko and Evie to a spectacularly thorough investigation. Clearly the Sargent meant what he said about not sparing any effort. Although neither woman gets any particularly confrontational vibes from the process it is exacting, thorough and repeated twice with copious note taking. If it were not for the fact that Reiko is an expert of half truths and plausible lies it is almost certain that something would have slipped - but she prevails, keeping all the (lying) ducks in a (false) row and Evie is far too good to mess up such an excellent lead.
It takes over an hour before the Watch are done and the women leave with thanks and a promise that the Defenders of Freedom will do everything they can. How much that is will be another question, but at least someone cares about Abigail.
Louis and Mel have some trouble making inquiries due to the need to be discrete. It seems that most of the people in Abigail's building are either out or are themselves very discrete. It isn't until they reach the bottom floor that they strike gold. An elderly woman answers a door on the ground floor and proves to be the building's owner.
"Oh you're friends with dear Abigail?" She asks, "Well that's so nice. I've always thought the poor girl needs to have more friends. What do you think of her new man? I like him, he seems like a proper gentleman. Always says hello when he comes past. I really hope the two of them work out. She's not had the greatest luck with men in the past, it's such a shame. That lovely red hair! If I'd had hair like that in my youth I'd have had suitors on all sides. Oh, before I forget, could you take this up to her room for me dearies? It was left behind by the men who brought her new carpet and I thought she could get it back to them. Looks expensive. Now what she wants with a new carpet I don't know, but maybe the old one got stained. It looked dirty when they took it out yesterday..."
The garrulous old woman has plenty more to say and takes quite some time to say it, but the badge she hands over is interesting - a clenched fist holding six arrows.
Knowledge Local, DC28:
This is the insignia of a very minor thieves guild called Erastil's Fist. Despite their name they prey on the various non-native populations in the Tamuth District of Almas, committing robbery and petty extortion. Thanks to their small size, relative incompetence and the fact that they don't target native Andorrans they've never become a priority for law enforcement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Evie and Reiko leave the building Reiko is able to follow a set of bootprints leading out of the modest apartment. Unfortunately they are the worn boots of a workman, with nothing distinctive about them at all and she loses the trail at the first crossroads the pair come to - the ground is simply crossed too often by too many shoes for her to have a chance without a remarkable stroke of luck or magical assistance.
With that lead gone cold the pair head to the nearest station of the City Guard - the grandly named 'Defenders of Freedom'. The Watch Sargent is symapthetic but distant until you mention that the target is the Merry Maid herself at which point he takes more notice.
"Really? The Merry Maid has been kidnapped? I love that place! Of course, we'll get onto it immediately. Now, could you ladies tell me what happened? Why were you going to see Miss Abigail?"
Unfortunately he now seems keen to get as much information as possible - and you are his first sources!
Obscuring your motives and/or the involvement of Councillor Trand will require a bluff check or other similar methods.
Reiko gathers a number of rumors, ranging from the politically interesting ("Councillor Lor has at least two illegitimate children - or so I've heard") to the laughably absurd ("Cheliax is trying to infiltrate Almas using trained rats and pigeons as spies!"). It is clear however that Abigail the Merry Maid hasn't been at the pub since at least yesterday and a number of regulars are somewhere between annoyed and genuinely concerned about her.
Louis meanwhile takes advantage of the lull that comes at the end of the lunch service to speak to Pip. The vast halfling takes some persuading but he does eventually admit his worries about Abigail and, after being persuaded of Louis' good intention, tells the man that the Merry Maid has a small flat in Easthill, not far from the Grand Exchange.
When you arrive the neatly maintained tenement is quiet and it is easy enough to find Abigail's flat on the third floor. The door swings open at the gentlest touch...
Inside are clear signs of a struggle. Furniture is disarrayed, the bed in the corner has its sheets scattered across the floor and specks of blood fleck the mattress.
An open archway seems to lead into a small kitchen area, where a screened off corner provides privacy for natural functions.
Perception DC17, Main Room:
You spot a blooded dagger under the bed. The matching sheathe can be found underneath the beds only pillow. It seems Abigail didn't go down without a fight.
Heal DC15:
The amount of blood spilt in the room isn't lethal. Given the splatter patterns it seems likely that someone, presumably Abigail, got a good hit or two in and then was restrained before doing any more damage.
"Some political guy, that's all I know." The server replied. "Of course madam, I'll get that for you in a moment. He's been in a lot recently and she seems to like him. He's on the People's Council I think. Not seen him in town before though."
"I'm afraid she isn't in today." The proprietor replies to Reiko, producing a pencil and notebook from an apron pocket as he does so. "What can I get for you Miss?"
It isn't until you are all sat that a server comes over bearing a tray and a surprisingly grim expression.
"Did I hear you asking about Miss Abby?" He asks, leaning over the table to pass out drinks and making your conversation a modicum more private in the process. "She wasn't in last night or this morning. I know she's got a new man she's seeing but she's normally in every day no matter what. Pip won't say anything to customers but he's worried as well. If you do find her could you come by and let us know she's ok? She's family to us all."
He straightens up and clears his throat. "Are you ready to order food then Ladies and Gentleman?"
By the time the small squadron of investigators reaches the Merry Maid it is lunchtime and there is a queue to enter the tavern. It moves fairly quickly and the four soon find themselves inside a busy, fast moving food place. People are eating, servers are serving and food comes out from the kitchen at a rapid pace. The only thing missing is the Merry Maid herself, the tall stool she normally occupies on a small raised stage is empty and there is no-one in the entire establishment with red hair at all, apart from Reiko.
An exceedingly wide halfling man looks up at you all with a professional smile. "Good afternoon and welcome to the Merry Maid. I can seat four here, if you want to wait for a booth it will be perhaps twenty minutes. May I get you some drinks while you wait?"
Trand whirls on Louis and there is genuine anger on his face although he retains enough common sense to lean in, wrap an arm around the other man's shoulder and speak in a hushed tone - as friends might.
"Didn't you read the damn letter? It's too late! They have her! That's the f***ing point Louis! They have her! Just find her. Please. That's all I'm asking."
With that he releases the younger man and turns away, striding off with such speed it's clear he doesn't want to be caught.
Trand glances at Louis and nods slowly. "It's common blackmail." He says, sounding genuinely indignant. "I know Almas isn't like Riverford but still... don't people have a right to their own business? I know there's a level of scrutiny that comes with being on the People's Council but this... this is beyond anything I could have imagined."
He walks a little further and then hesitates. "Louis... I know how much you have supported me and my campaign and I hope you never have cause to think me ungrateful... Could you pay it? If I had to. If worse comes to worse, could you pay them what they ask? I don't like the idea of giving blackmailers what they want but... the threats. I can't take that risk - not if they hurt her."
Trand nods at Melenae's plan - his faith in her is near absolute after a years campaigning and another year in government. "Right. I'll speak to the leadership, explain that I was making a show of independence for the voters back home. We don't have any coast line so they should understand that." He nods firmly, the image of a confident politician back in place. "Thank you, all of you."
As he leaves Melenae can't help but think that was easier than she expected. She has the distinct impression that, while he is definitely shaken, Trand has left something out. He's not an especially good liar, especially to people that saw his first attempt at a stump speech. That might be why he left so readily...
Anyone else who rolls over 18 on an SM check would have the same impression.
Trand frowns. "I... the first time I went was with Vordmann and Teren. I think one of them must have suggested it. But it's well known. You can hardly move in there for patrons. It's the food. Simple stuff, country fare really but they do it so well. Everyone goes there."
Louis and Evangeline both know that Trand is overstating, but not by much. The Merry Maid is a popular tavern that specialises in seafood - particularly a chowder that is practically a national treasure in its own right. The couple who own it are halflings (as so often with the best taverns) but the titular 'Merry Maid' is a young red-headed woman named Abigail. She plays music, holds and judges boisterous 'debates' and is generally the life and soul of the tavern.
Evvie has had conversation with Abigail a few times and remembers a fiercely intelligent and independent young woman with a fondness for sugar nuts. Admirers and prospective suitors spend a fortune on chowder and beer in an attempt to impress her but as far as Evvie knows Abigail has no significant other.
It is perhaps another half hour before the door opens and Councillor Trand sweeps in. He looks upset and offers the most cursory of nods to each of you before heading straight to the drinks and pouring himself a large brandy.
"I voted against." He says, before tossing an envelope to Melenae. "Read it. Everyone needs to know."
The letter is a collage - cut from at least one, most likely several, of the dozens of pamphlets that circulate in Almas either daily or weekly.
to our esteemed councillor trand. certain People have been seeing a man matching your description neAr a noted public house the merrY maid. why do you care? yOu should. because we know what else you find theRe. boYs. vOte against the next bill and yoU'll only pay the basic Rate. ten Grand in twenty four hours. if you dont I wondeR what liv wouLD say in rivErford. scared? gooD.
The signature is simply a cut out illustration - a small songbird that usually rides the top of the 'Song of Liberty' pamphlet.
Trand has been pacing up and down as Melenae reads and when she finishes he slams a fist into the table.
"Who could be doing this, damn it? Yes I've been to the tavern - it's been recommended to me half a dozen times. I had no idea that... I've never..." He breaks off, spluttering. "I need you to fix this, now."
Adriel sets off for Old Korvosa, more concerned about the plague effects of dead bodies than a risk of public disorder that may not even come to pass. It is twilight by the time she locates Racker's Alley where the high walls of the surrounding buildings throw the awkwardly bent alley into even deeper shadow. Any preparations before going into the alley?
Although littered with garbage and filth, the refuse isn’t the most stomach-turning trait of this rundown side way. Heaped against a bent wooden wall rises a pile of more than three dozen plague victims, their faces blistered and flushed, eyes open and staring. The scent of death is overpowered by the reek of rot, suggesting that some of these corpses have been here for days, but even a casual glance reveals that certain bodies seem strangely pale compared to most of the victims who succumb to the sickness.
Perception DC16:
Upon closer examination it becomes clear that many of the victims have been drained of blood entirely and, if Adriel is not mistaken, many of those don't have any signs of Blood Veil at all. These aren't just plague victims, but murder victims too!
Separate Perception DC22:
There is a dark figure crouching at the edge of the roof above. It might be a gargoyle, if not for the crimson eyes that meet your own! If you make this check you can take a surprise round.
Almas, glorious capital at the heart of the greatest political experiment Golarion has ever known. A beacon of prosperity, equality and fair governance - if you listen to the criers on the street corners at least. Anyone who spends any time in Almas realises the truth - Andoran is everything its supporters say it is. But it is also a nation of people - honorable and venal, generous and corrupt, fair and false by turns. Andoran may be a shining beacon of virtue but the people who run it... well, everyone knows the saying about laws and sausages.
Councillor Trand, befitting his station as one of the most junior members of the People's Council, has taken a relatively small house in Almas for the Council's month long legislative session. It isn't large enough to house all of his staff but it does have a well-sized dining room which has served admirably as a war-room and conference center over the last three weeks.
You all arrived this morning expecting nothing much - there is a meeting this morning and a vote on a special taxation round to support 'Andoran's navy and its continued efforts against piracy', which is thinly veiled funding for the Grey Corsairs. As this is a matter close to the hearts of Trand's faction he was always going to attend, which in turn means less work for you. Which makes it all the stranger when you arrive and are met by Frederick, Trand's valet, who ushers you each into the conference room and implores you to "Stay here until the Councillor returns. He was most explicit."
Fortunately the drinks cart is fully stocked and Mrs Lant the housekeeper has left a tray of excellent pastries. All you can do now, is wait.
"Of course." Ishani says immediately. "I will visit them myself." Kroft also nods. "I will ensure a suitable donation is sent. It's the least the guard can do at this point."
She stands and shakes first Ishani's hand and then Adriel's.
"Good luck Miss Moonflower. Let me know when you're done or if you find anything."
After Adriel's introduction Ishani lays out his plans to the Field Marshal. Most of them are highly sensible and Kroft nods along, but his request for troops to conduct a number of tasks is turned down flat by Kroft.
"I'm sorry Father, I simply don't have the men. Especially not now we have to escort the Queen's Physicians. But we do have a very capable person here who might be able to help." Both she and Ishani turn their eyes to Adriel, who suddenly feels rather nervous...
"In previous plagues the Church of Abadar has hired a number of freelance workers to help keep the streets clean, take bodies, that sort of thing. Unfortunately I've heard rumors recently. One of our most reliable helpers, a man named Rokshan, has been selling the bodies he's collected. I know it's to someone in Old Korvosa - in a place called Racker's Alley. Not a nice place unfortunately but I think it needs investigation. If nothing else selling bodies is going to be very bad for public health."
"That's a fair point" Kroft adds. "There's another risk. The city has a large wererat community, and people are going blame them. It's an easy target and people will push for it. Worse still there have been reports before about a wererat named Girrigz. He's an anarchist, been pushing for 'wererat independence' for years. I can't go and meet him, no-one official can, but someone needs to. Meet him and put the fear of the Gods and the Crown into him. If it's done quick enough then hopefully nothing will happen and we'll be able to squash any unrest. Hopefully."
She pulls a piece of parchment onto her desk and scribbles roughly on it. "This is the best entrance to the sewers, and close to where Girrigz was last known to nest."
And so the tale of the Misgivings comes to an end. A horror from beyond the stars is sealed away once more and peace returns to Golarion, while the schemes of the Dominion of the Black and their inscrutable masters in the darkness are foiled.
With Eliza menacing him Xarwin is distracted and Alexi's hatchet tears a massive rip through his ectoplasmic form. The ghost screams as Tadia's final blast of trusty magic missiles tears through him, punching holes in what remains of his corporeal form. Xarwin collapses into a puddle, which writhes across the room and into the seal which dominates the centre of the space.
Without its summoner the mouther vanishes in a crackle of magic leaving the room strangely quiet as the tendrils oozing from the seal retreat into (temporary) quintessence. It seems you have won.
Ioseff’s skeletal remains cradle the starless scope. Its lens is shattered but the curved glass that was found in the orrery pond fits it perfectly. It seems Xarwin died in danger, his body still possesses a +1 chain shirt, a wand of spiritual weapon, a broken wand of soothe (2nd), a +1 striking dagger, and a ventriloquist’s ring on his only remaining hand. The scrawled scrolls on his desk include a scroll of internal insurrection, along with Ioseff’s notes that he hoped to use his deciphering of the alien spell to save himself. It seems his researches were too little, too late.
Amongst the horde of gathered lore are other notes of a ritual Ioseff had almost completed that would have allowed him to usurp control over a brain collector and merge the minds of his wife and children with his own. It seems that, with a few more weeks work, the ritual might have become functional to probably horrible consequences.
Alexi's hatchet seems to sigh as the wrathful spirit of Asethanna is finally avenged, and all that now remains is to ensure that Xarwin's spirit never rises again. Dismantling the statue of the brain collector is the first step - Xarwin's notes reveal that the source of his obsession, his wife and children's brains, are all stored there ready for the completion of his ritual. Miya intones blessings and prayers over the remains and three souls are freed to pass on to the boneyard.
The undead brain collector in the attic is destroyed after a short battle - it had no way of recovering from the grievous wounds previously inflicted and was unable to stand up to four battle hardened women ready for conflict and, with this task done, the mounting for the starlight scope can be secured and the crypt accessed.
As the Starlight Scope is returned to its housing the entire crypt darkens to a night-sky and a single beam of moonlight shoots down, passing through the scope and down into the caverns below. A horrible, bellowing cry surges up from the depths and then falls utterly silent. Emerging from the crypt once more all four women hear something they haven't heard for weeks, trapped as they have been within the manor. The sound of birdsong.
The Xarwin Caul has fallen and, bathed in gentle afternoon sunshine, the manor's ground seem almost pleasant. This could be a home afterall, if so desired.
The superatural compunction to remain within the house is gone, along with (as further investigation reveals) all forms of supernatural goings on. The creature avoided on the lower levels is absent when the ladies return - it seems to have cut its losses with its master gone and Eliza's house is finally her own.
All that remains now is to settle accounts and say farewells.
Eliza pierces the mouther once more, causing it to shriek loudly.
Everyone must make a DC19 will save or be confused for one round.
Unfortunately neither Alexi nor Miya can land a hit on Xarwin this time - only Tadia's missiles strike him, and they seem to annoy rather than harm. Still, he is definitely annoyed.
"Enough!" The ghost declares and Tadia feels an overwhelming sense of dread as she knows her father is stepping up behind her, 'walking stick' in hand.
The mouther, meanwhile, drops Eliza obediently and turns on Miya instead, striking hard with a pair of powerful blows!
Alexi's empowered hatchet cuts deep into Xarwin's spiritual form as Eliza pierces his summoned creature with her rapier. The amorphous blob turns its many teeth on her, screaming as it does so.
The large kitchen beyond the door is swelteringly hot from a roaring iron stove in the northern corner of the room. Burst bags, shattered jars, copious crumbs, and other food detritus litter the floor and tables. Doors lead out to the west (where you came from) and south which would head back towards your entry tree.
It seems that anyone important must be on the upper levels.
Alexi misses and despite the sound and fury Tadia unleashes the ghost seems almost untouched. Miya is the only person to land a blow as Eliza ducks away once more and runs across the room once more.
Xarwin lets out a howl of anger and raises both arms to the air. The ectoplasm oozing from the cap seems to respond and slowly forms into an amorphous blob of yammering mouths and oozing, fleshy sludge - just like the one the ladies confronted in the grounds when they first arrived at Xarwin Manor.
Xarwin seems utterly unprepared to have Eliza resist his spell and cries out in pain as Alexi carves into him with the enchanted hatchet, which cuts his ectoplasmic flesh in death as easily as it cut his corporeal body in life!
Miya's blow is much less effective, but the holy energy charged in her strike still burns the ghost and he seems surprised by just how effective the women are.
He rears backwards and then swoops over the women's heads, apparently intent on chasing down Eliza, although as he passes Alexi feels a crippling pain in her hatchet wielding hand!
DC28 fort save for Alexi. Sickened 1//As critical success + 2d6 damage and clumsy 1 for a round//sickened 2, 5d6 damage, clumsy 2 for one minute//sickened 3, 8d6 slashing, 2d6 bleed; clumsy 2 and wounded 1 until wounded condition is healed
It takes a little longer but Tadia's persistence and time spent with Ezramalkum, along with Eliza's cleverness and deep knowledge produce some truly profound arguments and the influence of 'the Lord Below' is shaken by the force of the groups logic and reasoning.
The skeletal psychopomp shakes and then collapses into dust and scraps of fabric. Alexi feels a sense of approval in her mind - she has no doubt that Pharasma approves of what has just happened here.
Unfortunately there is nothing else of interest here, apart from a long broken ladder which leads upwards. It seems likely that it would exit into the crypt in the grounds which proved so formidable all those weeks ago when the ladies first arrived.
Returning in the other direction is thankfully less fraught, now that the haunt and undead have been put to rest. Heading in the opposite direction, into the more constructed corridors involves passing through two sets of doors before being offered a choice of options. The first doors on the right reveal a well equipped and thoroughly gruesome surgical laboratory.
Occultism DC25:
It seems that the room was primarily used to harvest the brains of living beings and store them in odd brass cylinders which are displayed against one wall.
A powerful mi-go waits in the chamber and offers to "free you from the prison of the flesh". Fortunately the creature seems largely quiescent and doesn't make any effort to pursue when the ladies retreat with admirable prudence!
Glowing green fluid slowly drips up the pale lavender walls of the 10-foot-wide hallway beyond the laboratory, while countless tracks in the
dust on the floor look disturbingly like fingerprints the size of a human head. That supposition is quickly proved correct when two giant hands come scuttling up the corridor and have to be dealt with in a swift and brutal battle. Both hands were left hands and wore a familiar ring - just like the one found on the upper floor of the manor house. Both hands and rings melt into green slime however, leaving the way through the double doors at the end of the passage clear.
The pale lavender walls of the room beyond the doors ripple with glowing green fluid that drips up to pool against the ceiling. Alcoves in the walls to the east and west contain a few books and tools, while many more books sit on the numerous wooden shelves lining the walls. Towards the rear of the room, dark blue curtains partially obscure what lies beyond: a horrific statue made of glass, bronze, and wood. A depiction of a crab-like creature with several glass domes on its back stands to the north—human brains float within three of these fluid-filled domes.
To the west of this unsettling statue is an empty wooden mirror frame. A paper-cluttered desk and chair near this frame face the statue. A human skeleton clad wearing rotted black and red aristocrat’s clothing over a chain shirt slumps forward in the chair. The area around the body has been sprayed with dried blood and bits of leathery flesh—as if the figure’s skin and organs had burst from its body, leaving the skeleton intact. The skeleton’s left hand is missing at the wrist, but the right cradles a long silver telescope against its chest.
At the center of the room, a 10-foot-diameter, one-foot-high platform of stone supports an eight-foot-diameter slab of six-inch-thick stone—almost akin to a slab covering a well. This entire platform seethes with pale green ooze that constantly extrudes wavering tendrils into the air before
absorbing them over and over.
Detect Alignment:
The green ooze radiates a powerful aura of chaos and evil.
Perception DC20 and Celestial:
An inscription on the stone, which can just be seen through the ooze reads: “May you remain below, shrouded in stone, apart from the dark above. May your name be forgotten forever, and your evils left to the memories of the long dead. May all your nights remain starless forever more.”
Occultism DC26:
The statue shows a brain collector, much like the beast you fought on the roof. The cylinders are probably similar to those in the laboratory and might contain humanoid brains - maybe even those of the Xarwins who haunt the upper floors.
Unfortunately only moments after the ladies enter the room a figure comes slithering out from under the oozing stone and levels its only remaining hand at Eliza.
"And now I take what is mine!" The ghost of Ioseff Xarwin declares, and the battle is joined!
Across a short bridge you find a once well-stocked larder which has been thoroughly ransacked. Bottles, baskets, and sacks are haphazardly piled on the floor. In the middle of the room, a five-foot-wide wicker basket hangs suspended from ropes beneath a hole in the ceiling that leads to the building’s upper story. Another door offers access to another room further on.
The winching mechanism is clever, but not complex. (DC10 Thievery or Engineering Lore to use correctly.)
A potion of minor healing sits among a number of other bottles filled with condiments.
Nothing disturbs the room although both Anabel and Cotton think they see flickers of movement in the beams at the top of the building. The poppet suspects more fey but like the leshys in the previous room they don't seem overly confrontational and the party is able to explore at their leisure.
There is a door 'behind' the group to the south or one leading north.
Identify Magic, DC15:
One of the instruments, a banjo with a rather lovely curling vines motiff is in fact a lesser maestro's instrument.
The leshies look at each other and seem to be considering the group's words. Lyra's talking of the Oakstewards and special pieces of bark seems to be the deciding factor and the first leshy walks over and hands Cotton its watering can.
"Ok." It says simply. "We'll go now. Bye."
The second leshy nods and waves a small hand cheerfully. "Bye!"
Then the pair swing out of the window with surprising agility and disappear from view.
Left alone in the suddenly empty greenhouse the group feels slightly at a loss for a few moments before Anabel recognises the distinct trailing leaves of a flayleaf plant, known for its dangerous toxins.
DC15 survival to harvest 10 doses of flayleaf poison.
The only way onwards is a door to the north, which opens into a dining hall which sports a long wooden table lined with benches. Assorted musical instruments lean against the walls. A door on the left suggests another room behind you and another leads further north. The room seems to be empty.
Slightly cobbled together I'm afraid but this is how we'll do it.
The heroes start with 4 influence points over the catrina. Each round the PC's can attempt skill checks to increase their influence. Examples might include Diplomacy to pursuade the catrina to ignore the other supernatural influences in play, Religion or Occultism to discuss her original purpose or Deception to mislead the psychopomp. Roleplay appropriately.
A successful check will add 1 influence point and a critical success will add 2 points. Each turn on it's turn the catrina (or rather the Malevolence controlling it) will decrease the heroes influence by 1. A critical failure on a skill check may also decrease influence by 1.
If influence reaches 0 the heroes lose. If it reaches 9 they win.
The psychopomp is a level 7 monster so skill DCs will reflect this.
Despite Tadia's less than tactful approach she seems to make some headway with the psychopomp who floats closer.
"Ezramalkun?" It asks, but then Eliza cuts in and the creature screeches. "Xarwin! He must pay! Join the Lord Below!"
Talking the Catrina down requires a delicate balancing act of trying to focus on her previous incarnation without triggering her obviously violent rage on certain conditions. Each PC can attempt a skill check each round or aid another PC but each round the psychopomp's anger grows, offering only limited time to avoid combat.
Once again Anabel and Oriana combine to brutal effect and fell the second druid with bolt and flame.
The path ahead is a steep one to a large treehouse that seems to be almost overflow with light even at night. Cage leads the way finds large windows and elaborately positioned mirrors filling the warm greenhouse. Potted plants choke the room in what can only be described as an indoor jungle.
"What are you doing here?" A small gourd leshy holding a watering can demands as it emerges from the plants.
"You're not Oakstewards!" Another voice agrees as a second leshy emerges, brushing the large leaf over its face aside. "Why are you here?"
No damage to Alexi thanks to GoR Ref:1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14
The tanglebones takes a pair of mighty blows from Alexi and Miya as the pair work to shield each other. Tadia's temper shatters some more bones and as Eliza patches herself up the invesitigator is sure that the creature's mass is far smaller than it was before.
The creature lashes out again, catching Tadia in the stomach with a thrown bone and clawing at Alexi but that proves to be its final effort and another barrage of blows shatters it entirely!
Combat Over. 14 damage to Tadia and none to Alexi, assuming that Miya uses GoR.
A glint of gold catches Eliza's eye and she manages to fish a gold nodule aeon stone(grants the ability to speak and understand Aklo) out from the bones and brackish water. There is nothing else of interest in the pool so Miya leads the way onwards.
After a lengthy walk around the pool and squeezing through a narrow passageway, the women emerge into a 10-foot-high irregular cavern, adorned with ancient carvings — images of stars, comets, and moths near the ceiling. Near the ground, images of monstrous shapes appear buried deep underground. A 10-foot-wide hole in the ceiling leads up into darkness.
As Miya enters the room a motionless figure on the far side of the room shudders into life, shaking a thick coat of dust from her bones and the faded blue robes which cover them. The movement triggers strange flows of ectoplasm, which drip between the bones. The figure steps forwards with hands wide and outstretched.
"Step forward and become one with the Lord Below!" It declares.
Religion DC20/Psychopomp Lore DC15:
This seems to have once been a Catrina psychopomp, the ones who come to help mortals accept their death and move on to the Boneyard. This one has clearly been corrupted but it might be possible to remind this one of what she once was...
This encounter can either be resolved with combat or by social combat if any one character passes the check and gets to read this spoiler.
Anabel and Oriana fell the rearmost druid with a combination of crossbow and flame bolts, which combine with lethal effect. Cage meanwhile, encouraged by Cotton, lands a ringing blow on the other druid's head which makes him drop his crossbow with a groan.
The druid staggers away, just about making it through the rear door and clangs a bell loudly.
"Alarm, attack!" He bellows. "Attack!"
Everyone can act but the element of surprise is definitely gone.
The gnomes either don't know or aren't terribly concerned about the possibility of fire, as far as Oriana can tell, as the whole way up to the first treehouse there seems to be no countermeasures in place. The structure’s windows are completely boarded up except for a few small murder holes. To the east and west, steep rope bridges ascend ten feet from the landing to larger buildings.
Cage leads the way and as soon as he appears in the doorway to the small hut there are shouts of alarm! Two druids are sitting in the room beyond but they scramble to their feet as soon as they see the fighter.
The fighter finds himself doing a hedgehog impression as he is pincushioned with bolts. Fortunately his quite unreasonable paranoia means that only his shield is actually damaged.
Pressing on through the gathering darkness the group enters the shadowy wood, following the glinting trail of silvery blood. It is a spooky journey full of shadows which seem to move in the corners of the eye and the wind plays odd tricks as it whistles through the trees.
Eventually, after nearly an hour of difficult marching something looms out of the gloom. Just ahead, the forest thins to reveal a chaotic network
of houses, barely visible high above in the trees. The structures are all several stories tall and interconnected by swaying rope bridges. In the southeastern corner of the enclave, a wooden staircase spirals upward from the forest floor to a suspended gazebo. Atop a tower at the enclave’s northern end, a small canvas-sailed windmill creaks in slow circles.
One thing is obvious even in the low light: the houses have been recently fortified: the trees’ lower branches have all been shorn clean, and the bare trunks shine with grease and are studded with downward-pointing wooden spikes.
The only obvious way up is the spiral staircase but a flickering light can be seen in the treehouse at the top as well as in three or four other treehouses scattered through the canopy above.
Eliza and Miya prove to be a potent team, landing three blows on (or should that be in) the tanglebones and snapping a number of bones. Alexi correctly identifies the creature and notes its weakness to bludgeoning damage, but can't actually land a telling blow.
Tadia surprises no-one by being a bossy prima donna.
The tanglebones gnaws down on Miya with dozens of skulls and then lashes out in a storm of claws, femurs and other pointed bones. Everyone is hit, but thankfully not too badly.
Gnaw vs. Miya:2d6 + 8 ⇒ (2, 4) + 8 = 14damage with a basic fort save. Sickened 1 on crit fail. Skeletal Storm; A, E, M:1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 311d20 + 17 ⇒ (6) + 17 = 231d20 + 17 ⇒ (11) + 17 = 28 Damage:2d8 + 8 ⇒ (1, 8) + 8 = 17Alexi, Eliza and Miya all take 17 damage.
Eliza's bolt flies true and crashes into the bone pile, but it disappears without obvious effect.
Miya's attempt at intimidation falls short - very short. Shorter than a vertically challenged sprite who suffers from dwarfism. Still the creature surges forwards towards her, sending a wave of water ahead of itself and (adding insult to injury) drenching the champion from head to toe!
Anabel manages to soothe the unicorn somewhat and, the moment it is released, the magical beast snorts and gallops straight back into the woods!
Nothing of value is left at the ritual site itself, but a bloody track into the woods shows clearly where the druids brought the unicorn from. It seems like a good bet that following that trail will lead the Gatewalkers back to the rebel druid's hidden base.
The final cultist morphs his hands into powerful claws and attempts to tear Cage in two, but the fighter turns the blow on his shield and then Oriana cooks the druid with impressive ruthlessness.
The unicorn continues to thrash on the altar, letting out angry whinnies and other, less natural sounds.
Still in initiative right now. The unicorn can be calmed with magic or a DC17 nature check.
Oriana fells her foe with a second blast of fire and the woman collapses, unable even to scream as the fire sears away her facial muscles.
Cage meanwhile closes the distance and strikes down the second cultist by hammering the crossbow bolt even deeper into their stomach. Within moments only one druid remains!
Tadia reaches deep into her occult knowledge and cries out a name before which even the Malevolence quakes. "Ia Chthulu!" The vast maw quavers for a moment and then vanishes entirely, leaving Miya largely untroubled as she crosses the bridge.
Miya is brushed by the tongue and suffers 10 damage but suffers no other ill effects.
The air of the sprawling cavern beyond is cold, moist, and glowing; soft, green light emanates from no discernible source. Moisture glistens on the walls and floor, and much of the cavern’s central portion is taken up by a wide but shallow pool of water in which the bones of what seems like over a dozen humans have been strewn.
The rest of the group crosses one at a time but as Miya leads the way further into the room a grotesque monster of tangled bones held together by black ectoplasm arises from the water and sloshes doggedly through the water towards the paladin.
Oriana and Anabel open the account with pure damage, hitting hard enough to leave one of the druids folded up around a crossbow bolt and a second screaming pain as fire sears across her face. Cotton's cheerful exhortions raise her companions spirits to new heights as the druids move to respond.
Two companions close the distance and hurl daggers, while the screaming woman comes charging forwards in pain, swinging her staff in two hands as she charges at Oriana.
Miya heroically leads the way over the bridge, if it holds her it should hold everyone after all. Just as she reaches the centre of the bridge the chasm below shifts and ripples, transforming into a vast, gaping mouth filled with countless sharp fangs. A puckered, rasping tongue lances up from the noxious gulping depths below to lash and taste. Two words boom up from the vast throat below: “Iä Tchekuth!”
Miya needs to make a DC24 will save. Then everyone can act. DC 28 Occultism or Religion can exorcise the startling phantasm and disable the haunt for a while.
Anabel's odd tool goes 'ping', which clearly indicates the presence of 'stuff'. Fortunately something, whether that's the tool or simply Anabel's sheer conviction that it does work, has some effect and the black veil lifts - revealing the way forwards to whatever evil ritual is going on ahead!
Pressing forward you pass through a thick cloud of shadow, clinging unnaturally low to the ground and find seven arches of gray-brown basalt which loom around the center of the forest clearing. In the middle is a crude wooden altar carved with vines. A hogtied unicorn bleats deliriously upon the altar. Despite two lines of lit torches around the altar, the shadows clog the area like thick mist. Three figures, all wearing masklike headdresses made from woven branches turn and glare at the intruders, wielding staves with ferocious intent!
Prepared and feeling stronger and more resolute than ever before the women head down the stairs from the kitchen to investigate the lower levels. Immediately they are set upon by a pair of undead esobok's, who seem to appreciate the irony of their situation if the viciousness of their attacks is anything to go by. After a short and bloody battle the ghouls are destroyed and a pause to rest and recover from the damage done the women continue on.
Out of the kitchen cellar a pale green phosphorescence dimly illuminates a sudden drop downward into a cavern some 20 feet below. An old bridge made of wooden planks, several of which have fallen away, crosses the chasm where a narrow, rickety-looking wooden staircase descends down from the eastern side. To the south, the rough cave walls become worked stone. Here, eerie ripples of pale, glowing green fluid dribble up the sides of the pale lavender stone walls to pool impossibly on the ceiling, glowing softly as the fluid fills the carvings of crescent moons, stars, and other astronomical designs. A stone double door stands in the wall to the south.
