Conna leaves the party now that the top level of Jorgenfist appears to be secure. She thanks them for their help and wishes that their people were on better terms. Unfortunately, the hatred between the small-folk and the giants will be difficult to undo.
The party is completely exhausted. Factor in Fobias’ blindness and they realize that they can’t continue onto the Black Tower. Instead, they’ll risk returning during the daytime and hope that Conna’s side has won the revolution.
After restoring Fobias’ sight, regaining their spells, and equipping themselves for the arduous task of investigating the pinnacle of Jorgenfist, they teleport back. Luckily, nothing has really changed.
Except, of course, for the gargantuan rocs that are diving towards them!
Not wanting to become lunch for these dangerous birds, the party hurries to the Black Tower and slides inside. The cramped interior is coated in a layer of ice. At first glance, it appears that there’s nothing to be gained; the vestibule lacks entry to the floors above.
Krask, however, spots the telltale signs of a trapdoor under Fyn’s feet. Brushing away the frost, the door opens to a long chute. Fobias casts Light on a stone and they drop it down the hole. It clatters to the ground after 70 ft.
Fobias jumps in.
The Black Monk
You didn’t think Fobias would dive in without a plan, did you? He casts Glide and floats to the bottom. After the initial 50 ft, the chute opens into a domed crypt accented by several alcoves. Each alcove contains a sarcophagus.
And one of them is open.
While the rest of the party climbs down the rope to the slick surface below, a linen-wrapped figure rises out of the sarcophagus. It shrieks about ‘the green light’ in Thassilonian over and over.
The sight of this mummified creature freezes Fyn with paralysis. And if that wasn’t bad enough, it spews a cone of disgusting tomb gas at the party, inflicting a couple of them with negative levels.
Despite the creature’s best intentions, the party avoids contracting mummy rot and surrounds it. Fobias, having left Richard at the top of the chute, sets his blade afire and begins engaging it with an intense precision. Furthermore, Trace is effective in the fight. After all, he regained his channels with the rest.
Before the Black Monk can react, Barnaby is also up in its face. As usual, the halfling wields his scimitar with unmatched ferocity. Even Krask’s arrows strike true. Is it possible that the party is back to firing on all cylinders?
As the creature falls, it drops an elaborate, adamantine scroll case covered in an interlocking series of locks. Fyn reaches out to touch it, activating a projection.
Gift from the Peacock Spirit
As you touch this chillingly cold, iron scroll case, you feel a brief jolt of energy. The dark room illuminates with a semi-transparent light, which flickers between transcending shades of green and blue. The projection coalesces, transforming the lifeless nature of this room from a crypt to a lush jungle. Sounds of wildlife begin echoing through the room; squawking birds, insects buzzing, leaves rustling, a person whistling.
The whistling gets closer until, out in front of you, two large sets of leaves part to the sides, and a resplendently-dressed man steps out from behind them. He’s wearing a magnificent set of divided platemail, stylized with azure etchings and decorated with bright rubies. A long, flowing green cloak with gold trimmings trails to jungle floor beneath him, although it doesn’t appear to be soiled in the slightest. His handsome face is accented with a pointed goatee of shiny black hair, and a pair of protruding eyebrows stick out beneath his widow’s peak. A collection of peacock feathers is fanned out behind his head. He walks confidently, using a long handled hammer as a staff.
He is played by Rodrigo Santoro.
“Hello there. As the Divine Emissary of the Many-Eyed One, the Master of the Unblinking Eye, and the Herald of the Radiant Plumage, I, Xanderghul, welcome you into our fold. You were right to seek us out and complete your pilgrimage.
Whether you have come here by direction of the Order of the Green Feather or through the guidance of the Therassic Monestary, we are glad that you have been chosen to sit amongst the elite devotees of our Lady.”
The man walks slowly around the perimeter of the room, smiling gently and gesturing with open arms.
“Contained within this case are the very core teachings of our Order. The spells and rituals therein will enlighten you, open your mind to see the truth, and ascend you into Her highest of Graces. This is the Emerald Codex, the only of its kind, and its treasures are invaluable, unable to be replaced or replicated. Once you read from these scrolls, prepare yourself for the enveloping warmth of transcendence.
Together we shall lead the world into a new age, take it to new heights. A world filled with promise. Harmony. Beauty. Thassilon may be on the verge of extinction, but it doesn’t mean that virtue will be simply plucked from Golarion. No, no, it will gestate, for as long as it must, before Her Will is fully realized. I, like you, am pained with anticipation of that day.
Do not take these secrets lightly. They are the only record of Her teachings. Her Wisdom. Her Benevolence. And we, as extensions of Her elegant decency, must hold it dear to our hearts, our minds, and our passion. By fully accepting this cultivation of Her doctrine, you join us as one of Her many feathers.”
Xanderghul stops pacing in front of the opening he came from, turning back to you.
“This step of your training is complete, but the journey is not yet over. Master these teachings and the way will be provided to you. Protect them. Guard them. Proclaim them with the entirety of your being.
May She grant you, and us all, Serenity in all things.”
And with a slight flourish of his cloak, the man walks back through the opening and the light fades from view.
Is Fyn’s faith in the Peacock Spirit restored? What secrets does the Emerald Codex contain? When will Richard gain the ability to fly?