Coming This Friday

The world faces a new threat, a superweapon unlike any other seen in Golarion, wielded by a lich-king long thought consigned to history. After mysteriously surviving an attack on your home village, you must find a way to return to the Material Plane and warn the valiant Knights of Ozem about this new threat. Will hubris damn the last bulwark against the Whispering Tyrant's return? And can a handful of heroes stand against one of the most ancient threats ever to loom over Golarion?

I am a collection.

Of fragmented memories.

Of mysterious skills.

Of death blows.

Of corpses.

Of ancient songs I never learned.

Of cries for mercy I did not utter.

Of the symbol burned into my mind, the first thing I saw in this life that is not truly a life.

Of the spirits that surround me like a cloak, gossamer and invisible, yet heavy on my shoulders with their whispers.

I am a collection, but I am not whole.

Who am I?

“Nahn baman ya abnatay. Nahn baman, nahn bi'amana. Sarenrae sawf yahmina.”

I remember my abba’s voice so clearly, the trembling fear that I could hear in his words, but what stands out in this memory is the wetness I felt on him; blood from a fatal wound, left by one of the orcs’ crude blades.

It’s the last memory I have of my father.

I don’t even remember what happened to my mother.

I just remember the feeling of hatred.

And it’s something I’ve tried to forget.

The sound of glasses clinking and laughter rings throughout the magnificent hall of the Baron’s manor. All of Velumis’ high society have gathered together for a night of drinking, intrigue, music, and a little debauchery. She struts through the crowd, her full, ripe hips swaying and bouncing to the bard’s music, casting a hypnotic daze on the mere mortals around her as she stalks across the hall. Corinne pauses to greet one more in the long line of nobles and government officials that she’s...interacted with in her professional capacity, whispering sweet nothings and solidifying plans and manhoods for later that evening. Business was business after all, and business was booming.

Corinne spots, from the corner of her eye, movement down a side hall, away from the party and towards the shadow of night. She excuses herself from a gaggle of her fellow courtesans, “Pardon me, I’m going to go check something out. Would one of you check in with Lord Ramis? He’s looking a little….randy tonight.” she gives a knowing nod to a few of her co-workers before gliding through the crowd towards the hallway.

Her eyes, large pools of silvery moonlight, pierce the darkness of the deserted hallway, as she stalks through the empty wing of the manor, tracking the sound of voices. A small group of thuggish men in expensive clothes, obviously purchased with ‘daddy’s money’ are hustling Rhiyan out into the night air behind the manor. Corinne had just met Rhiyan earlier that evening, she was new to the court as a courtesan having come from cheliax recently with one of the ambassadors. She seemed completely out of it, having been fed drink after drink for most of the night from these frat bro man children.

“Excuse me...Boys?” The night air seemed not to affect Corinne’s alabaster skin in the slightest, it almost seemed like the haunting woman was more at home in the cold of the night. She glides over to the group with unsettling speed. The boys hoot and holler, “Oh! Get a load of this. She’s coming to us, practically begging to join.” several of the noble’s sons say, others whistle and cat call, “get a load of those tracks of land.” a few of them toss the barely conscious Rhiyan over to the others as they turn to ogle the pale woman before them. “I’m afraid poor Rhiyan there seems to be getting tired, she’s going to call it a night. I’ll escort her back home. Why don’t you all join back up with the rest of the gala and enjoy the rest of your night?” her voice slides with a gracefulness and class that does not fit the danger of the situation, she bats her eyes at the boys, they practically glow in the dark of the alley, the firelight from a streetlamp casting twisting and warped shadows across her porcelain skin, showcased and highlighted in a tight, black and silver velvet evening dress with floral ornamentation that is juxtaposed against the sinister darkness of the situation. The boys laugh and jeer at her, “This ***** ain’t gonna take our plaything away.” one of them sneers, “**** that! Why don’t we play with her too!” another says as they begin to surround Corinne, who seems unperturbed.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Well… I did ask you nicely. But I guess you boys need to be taught a lesson..” she chides the man-children, arms comfortably at her side, she makes no physical movements as she becomes encircled. The head boy pulls out a pristine, slender dagger, brandishing it in front of Corinne’s face, “You ain’t teaching us shit, *****. Now, let’s cut you outta that whore dress and see what everyone pays you for!” The circle of idiots leaps forward to attack the lone courtesan.

Shadows of the figures move and twist along the alley wall, cast from the lone streetlamp. What seems like 5 or more male shadows leap upon the curved shadow of the woman. The shadows writhe and move quickly, hardly able to keep up with the forms casting the artificial darkness against the brick. The screams of men are nearly drowned out by a sickening tearing sound, accompanied by the cracking and POP of bones splintering and flesh ripping.

SPLASH. A streak of blood is splattered against the stone in huge arcs, like the slash of a terrible apex predator attack. The sound of struggle is as short, as it was unsettlingly loud. The sound of clicking heels and the hoisting of a drunk woman, as we see Corinne supporting Rhiyan, walking back down the street back to their home in the courtly palace. Her clothes seem untouched, looking closely, you see just the faintest glimmer of moist, red at the corner of her lip, and faint drips of hot, crimson fleeing from the tips of her fingers. Corinne takes a deep breath in and exhales, her skin seeming even more vibrant against the faint remnants of blood, her energy seemingly rejuvenated as her muscles relax, and her pupils return to a semi-normal size. "Let's get you back home, my dear. In the morning, I will whip you up a warm breakfast to soak up all those spirits." Corinne appears to be supporting the entirety of the blacked out woman, as if carrying a bag of groceries.

The last image you see is the alley. The bodies of the would-be rapists are strewn across the ground, eviscerated, with organs and gore scattering the ground. All the life force appears to be drained from them leaving behind mangled and desiccated corpses with blood splattered in wide arcs.

3827 AR-900 Years Ago

The Shining Crusade is at an end. Finally, after 70 years of war, the Knights of Ozem have pushed back the armies of orcs and undead under the Whispering Tyrant's command and now lay siege to his fortress of Gallowspire, ready to bring Tar-Baphon down once and for all. Tar-Baphon assails the crusaders with terrible spells, bringing many of the heroes to their doom, but the General Arnisant and Iomedae-currently a mortal Paladin, not yet a goddess- stand against the tyrant and do battle against him, armed with divine artifacts that the god Aroden used to defeat the tyrant in battle 1500 years ago when he was still a living man. The Whispering Tyrant casts a dreadful spell, a wish that will rip out General Arnisant's heart and bring it to his waiting hand. But the only thing that is brought towards the lich's hand is a shard of steel filled with divine energy, as the shield of General Arnisant absorbs the dark magic and explodes into twelve shards, with one landing in the hand of the Tyrant, weakening him and forcing him to retreat into his tower as the divine energy burns his undead flesh. The crusaders realize the folly of chasing the lich into his own trap-filled lair and instead constructed a Great Seal to imprison Tar-Baphon within Gallowspire for all eternity. Victorious, the crusaders establish the nation of Lastwall the very next year in 3828, with its' capital Vigil built facing the tower of Gallowspire, as well as the Hold of Belkzen, the stronghold of the orcs.

4719 AR-Today

All of you have been staying in Roslar's Coffer, a small town in Lastwall that is named for Ervin Roslar, a paladin and hero of the Shining Crusade that was buried in a nearby tomb. With a population of only 435 (not counting you) it would be considered a peaceful settlement, were it not for the fact that in recent years the town has not only had to deal with a raid by orcs from Belkzen, but also a monstrous creature that took over the Bastion of Light, a nearby cathedral dedicated to Sarenrae that was damaged during the orcs raid. Only recently was the beast slain by members of the Pathfinder Society seeking some of the relics in the cathedral.

(You may now describe your character and go into a bit of detail if you wish about what they were doing during the day before responding to to prompt below)

All is darkness and cold stone. Although you dimly recall going to sleep last night in the small community of Roslar’s Coffer, you awaken in a dark, stone box only a few inches larger than you in each direction. The cool scent of earth surrounds you.

A red-haired elf named Briana spent the day drifting through the store, collecting a few items one would need for an expedition. A new bedroll, some more oil, a...hammer? She's been in town for a few months, appearing and disappearing for days at a time. She speaks to few people, less out of any sense of superiority than simply being caught up in her own head, though if one does engage her in conversation, they'd find her quite interested in their story. And before returning to her room at the inn each night, she drifts off in the direction of the town graveyard...

Briana:

Did I die again?

No, Shi decides, doing an inventory of her memories. All there, she thinks, although she supposes she would hardly know if one was missing. But she is not the blank slate she was last time. She still carries her dead. Speaking of which...this is not the right place for Briana. The elf died in a summer glen, amidst light and energy and violence. Most of her slipped away while Shi slept anyway, leaving just her form right now. Shi plunges herself into the sea of faces, finds the one who calls out, and pulls it on.

The cave is dark. Why did I come here? That's right, needed to hide. Needed to hide from the soldiers...my stomach hurts so much. The blood is so red. Am I going to die here? I'm just going to lie down...see if I can stop the bleeding...I don't want to...

Briana's face shimmers and falls away, to be replaced by that of a copper-skinned young human woman with brown hair that would glitter gold if there was any light in the coffin and wide, dark eyes. Katie takes a deep breath and starts feeling around the coffin, trying to determine what there is in here and where the lid is.

Katie:

Katie: The coffin is empty, save for you. Curiously, you're in your day clothes and have your weapons and other adventuring gear with you instead of whatever nightclothes you wear when you go to sleep.

With final whinny, the wagon comes to a halt in Roslar's Coffer. Stepping down out of the plush interior, Corinne surveys the town, her strikingly brilliant silver eyes seem to give off a faint bit of light in their evaluation. The courtesan stands out a bit, her alabaster skin shining in the daylight, starkly contrasted by her long, raven-black hair draping around her bare shoulders. She brushes her hands down her silver, flower embroidered dress, trying to smooth out an imagined wrinkle in the silk fabric against her beautiful, voluptuously proportioned frame. "Well. This isn't exactly what I expected when you said we'd be going on a vacation. I would have packed some different clothing."  She turns her head back towards the interior, holding her hand out, waiting for her patron to step out and guide her off the steps, as was customary. "Don't fret, my pet. Enjoy the fresh air, and learn to relax. Besides, you'll be busy soon enough. After the slog of meetings and provincial folk I'll be dealing with, I'm going to be in need of your use for the evenings." A smooth hand reaches out to take Corinne's, the arm of a spoiled noblemen who'd never had to work a day in his life, as the lord Wrenley, a relatively minor noble from Velumis, stepped out of the wagon and took Corinne's arm, walking her out into the street towards the Tavern, "Let's get settled in to our room, and then I will leave you to wait while I complete some real work." Wrenley was a bit of a droll sort, Corinne nodded along, feigning interest and mentally counting the days until she'd be back in Velumis. You can't always pick your patrons at any given time, and it was her turn to be this whelp's companion. She notices from the corner of her eye, one of the porters straining under the weight of her luggage chest. He's swaying back and forth, ready to topple over from the massive container. "OOHOOO!" the porter trips and stumbles forward directly towards the noble and Corinne. With a deft move, Corinne slides her hand under the chest as Wrenley 'catches' the trunk, completely oblivious to the fact that Corinne was actually holding the weight, until she felt like he was trying to set it down. "Thank you, my lord." she curtsies, "for catching my trunk. I shudder to think what might have happened to me, had you not been blessed with such strength." Laying it on a little thick. Maybe the boost to his ego would make her job of finishing him later this evening much easier if he thought himself a hero of some kind. He smiles and flexes his barely existent muscles, the stupid man. She allows him to continue to guide her towards their home for the next few days, a beautiful and elegant accessory for Wrenley.

Corinne:

LATER

Corinne calmly assesses her current location. "Hmm. I don't much care for this." She mutters to herself. She pushes against the stone to see if it will budge.

Corinne: Make a Strength check to see if you can move the stone

Corinne's muscles strain and push as she attempts to free herself from her stone prison.

16

Katie keeps her breathing regular, knowing that panicking will use up valuable air. Though she holds out little hope for it working, she finds the lid, if there is one, and starts pushing up on it. If there's no lid, she picks a random wall.

Strength (I assume): 11

Morticia had only been in Roslar's Coffer for a day or so, needing to figure out her next plan of action. She had decided to find a shop to gather up and restock on supplies the next day, wanting to see if she could possibly get a feel for the town from the shadows, but with silver glowing roots, it wouldn't be the easiest task. After a few run ins with some curious children, she decided to call it a night and find a place to slumber.

In which she wakes up in her current situation now. There's a small sense of déjà vu that washes over her as she assesses where she currently is, but focuses on figuring out how to get out of it this time. Before it was steel, but she could feel now that she was encased in stone, and instead of a sterile scent, she smells the earth. After a few moments, she tries pushing various parts of the coffin.

Str: 4 

Sweeping was not glamorous work, but it was good, honest work that needed to be done. One mile out from Roslar's Coffer, Janna sweeps the steps of the recently-reclaimed Sarenite monastery dutifully, as instructed by the head priest. It gave her time to think, which was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, she is able to connect with her goddess through her thoughts, offering up silent prayers of thanks for the opportunity to redeem herself. On the other, it allowed her mind to wander to who she was before; the Janna that once wielded the broken scimitar that she still wore at her waist. To when the angel appeared to her, shattering the sword that had just been used to...

Where am I?

Janna raises a hand and feels the cool stone on her fingertips. Trapped, and without sight, she begins to panic, pushing up on the stone with all her might.

5

Corinne is able to push off the lid and escape her coffin, while Katie and Janna can't quite get it to budge. The stone is too heavy for Morticia to move at all. 

Corrine:

Katie hears the thud from outside of her box and goes still. After thinking a moment, she flicks a finger and summons four small, glowing spirits that zip around the coffin near her, illuminating the small space while she taps on the lid of the coffin. "Hello? Anyone out there?"

Corinne climbs out of the coffin, stepping carefully on to the dusty stone floor. She wipes the dust off her cocktail dress, not wanting to appear dirty even in a setting such as this. She reaches back in to the coffin to grab her satchel, slinging it comfortably over her shoulder.

Corinne stops dead when she hears the voice. “Oh dear. Are you trapped in there, dear? Hold on. Let me help.” The nicely dressed woman moves over to the coffin that appeared to have faint light emanating from inside. She pushes on the lid, hoping to open it up.

Opening the coffin, Corinne sees a young woman with dark skin and hair, surrounded by four floating ghostly lights. The light reflects off of little gold streaks in her hair as she sits up. "Hello. This is Katie." She carefully clambers out of the coffin, the lights coming with her as she takes in the other open coffin and three closed ones. "Are there others in those? I wonder if we died after all," she adds thoughtfully.

Corinne looks to the new person, “We are not dead yet, but let’s check these other coffins to see if there are more stuck in the same situation as us.” She smiles at Shi, “I’m Corinne Hemlock, by the way.” She does a slight bow, before gliding confidently over to another coffin to push the lid open. Shi would notice that the level of strength that Corinne shows doesn’t match up with the general comfort and blasé she shows with opening the heavy stone coffin, her shoulder and back muscles on full display in her strapless dress.

With the coffin lid lifted, Corinne and Shi/Katie see a young Keleshite woman wearing very traditional, flowing garb. A scimitar is sheathed at her waist--or at least, part of one, but they cannot see that. Janna shoots up and gasps for breath, still in panic mode after waking up in a dark, cramped space. "Sabihuu alaliha. Thank you," she says to her rescuers, and stands up. She looks around, and frowns. "I don't suppose either of you know where we might be?"

Morticia would really put her back into trying to get the coffin lid to budge, but no matter how hard she tried, it simply wouldn't budge. Between heavy pants, she is able to hear a muffled thud from outside, and she perks up immediately. Her mouth would tremble open, then close when she hears an additional thud and some muted talking. She pats her legs to check to see if she had some of her items on her, locating one of her daggers.

She begins to rap at the stone, hoping to attract some attention onto her coffin.