Interlude (Lamashan [October]-Neth [November]) 4708 AR

A brief respite from horror and a tankard of ale or three of ale at the Sitting Duck are about the only joys a resident of Falcon's Hollow can look forward to. As summer wields to autumn, the leaves of Darkmoon Wood pale to jaundiced yellow or bloody crimson. They dying summer is another reminder that life is cheap in Darkmoon Vale. There is a saying in Falcon's Hollow: "Sorrow becomes joy, joy rots to misery, and so all things turn bloody in the end".

Many died during the carnival. Falcon's Hollow fell under a pall of mourning for months, and the town shrunk as many abandoned it as an accursed place. In addition, a good number of Syntira's followers were polluted beyond redemption (forever becoming dark ice fey). Still, our adventurers are heralded as heroes for preventing more death, and Syntira and her loyal followers were able to push her corrupted court members from Darkmoon Vale, banishing them as she once did their forebearers to the frozen wastes inhabited by the Witch Queen.

Although free from her torment, Tessa was forever changed (at least according to Namdrin) by her harrowing experience. She became a cold woman, stern, and quick to judge others. She grew to despise Namdrin for his weakness of love and falling for the cold rider's duplicitous plan. She left the half-elf, regretting her involvement with him, and sought companions unswayed by heady emotion - far more practical, and even iron-handed in the pursuit of law and control. After being snubbed by the heroes, she was seduced by Thuldrin Kreed, who impressed her with his ruthless pursuit of power and authority and his utter lack of whimsical notions.

When his love left him, Namdrin was crushed perhaps even more than when the cold rider took her from his side. He became a dangerous man, as fiery as his mistress had turned cold, prone to violent outbursts of drunken revelry given way to brawls and street battles. He soaked his pain in alcohol and whores, and soon ended up tied around Kabran Bloodeye's little finger. He in turn grew to despise Tessa.

The nymph queen was indebted to the heroes. Additionally, Syntira and her fey were blamed for the cold rider's assault on Falcon's Hollow. Thuldrin Kreed tried to harness the rage at the fey's attack on the town to galvanize his place at the helm of the town by calling upon the townsfolk to hunt down the fey and slaughter them to the last. Thuldrin has big dreams of being elected mayor of Falcon's Hollow in the settlement's first organized election, and he tried to use the people's hatred of the fey as a rallying point. Fortunately, the heroes successfully countered his fey propaganda and offered their own candidate for the mayor's office: Wrack.

A couple of festivals occur in Falcon's Hollow during this time as well. The first is held at the temple of Iomedae, celebrating Ascendance Day, the day the mortal Iomedae became a goddess. The second is Jestercap, a day of pranks and practical jokes, favored by gnomes.

One cold, misty morning a man came stumbling into town. Mutters Kondlan was the task master at Thuldrin Kreed's newest cutyard, 2 miles into the shadowy glens of Darkmoon Wood. The poor wretch arrived at dawn, his finery in tatters and his stringy hair matted with sweat and blood. His tidings soon reached every ear. He didn't see the horror that cut down his men, but he fled the cutyard pursued by screams and dying gurgles of his lumberjacks that echoed through the trees. Anxiously, the town waited for other survivors to appear, but only cold silence came from the forest through thinning mist. Fear gripped the town. Nearly two dozen men and women were missing in the darkness beneath the forest canopy, and the shouts and wails of their kin ringed across Falcon's Hollow. And on the perch looking over the rest of the town, Thuldrin Kreed, his interests threatened by this new incident, met quietly with advisors to discuss possible courses of action.

The Cold Rider Cometh (Lamashan [October]-Neth [November] 4708 AR)

The heroes then set up a trap for the quickling. Wrack removed Aranthor's blindness, while Seoni rendered Wrack invisible, and he and Mrunk lay in wait while Seoni and Aranthor were stumbling about. The quickling could not resist, and the heroes managed to kill it.

When the heroes managed to recover the witch ice shard, Namdrin appeared next to them immediately. Seizing the shard, he casually snapped it in half and kneeled over the fragments, sobbing. As his tears trickled off his face and onto the fragments, they slowly began to melt and grow, eventually expanding into the unconscious (but living) form of Tessa, his lost love. With a smile, he picked up her sleeping form and carried her into a nearby wagon, returning moments later with his twin swords, a fully charged wand of cure light wounds, and a determined look on his face. He handed the heroes the wand and then slowly faced each of them in return and calmly thanked each one for restoring his life to him. Then the expression on his face turned grim and he said, "Now let us put an end to these vile creatures and drive them back to the shadows where they belong". From that point on, Namdrin aided the heroes as they struggled to overcome the fey.

When the heroes disrupted or stopped six different carnival events, the cold rider appeared to challenge the heroes directly, and with his appearance, the heroes finally had a chance to put an end to the fey carnival once and for all. Striding out of the forest came a horrifying creature of ice and bone mounted atop a rotting dead stag and clutching a tremendous icy glaive in one mighty gauntlet. Impressive antlers of jagged ice perched atop the rider's helm, putting his stag's to shame. At the center of the dread thing's frost laden breastplate sat a crystal of pure sapphire, glittering in the dancing light cast by the floating lights above. The cold rider stood on the frozen ice of the river and yelled his challenge: "Heroes, those who would stand against the power of ice and the might of the north, come and face me, and face death!"

The cold rider meets the heroes on the frozen river. The area he chose was where the carnies were setting up the fireworks display, and several small stacks of firecrackers still littered the ground there. The cold rider used ride-by-attack to harry foes while remaining out of reach. It fought to the bitter end.

When the cold rider was defeated, the Eye of Rapture melted away into nothingness, and all the lights above the carnival winked out at once, plunging the scene into darkness. The fey withdrew. They had been defeated, for now, but the town might never recover.

After the heroes succeeded in defeating the cold rider and released Syntira's fey from his evil influence, she brew up a special concoction that reversed the transformation of ale imbibers into trees, restoring the revelers back into their original forms. Among them was Millon Rhodam. A couple of hundred fair-goers died or went missing. Among the dead was Sheriff Deldrin Baleson, while among the missing were Kimi Eavewalker, Hollin Hebbradan and Brickasnurd Hildrinsocks.

Blind Peep Show (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

Ambrosia blinded Aranthor and Seoni before she cast a a spell to call for aid from a lion. She fled (using magic) as soon as she took any damage.

When the heroes drove away Ambrosia and her dark ice fey and defeated her lion, the quickling jabbed Aranthor quickly, using his dagger and sneak attacking. When Aranthor took a good swipe at him, the quickling distanced himself from nearby opponents and hurled a small black lusterless pearl. Upon sharp impact, the bead exploded, sending forth a burst of force. A globe of shimmering force enclosed Aranthor and Wrack, trapping them for several minutes. The quickling then attacked Seoni, but fled when Mrunk chased him away.

Wrack decided to use the heartripper blade to restore Mrunk's strength. Thankfully he spoke to the pigs that grazed behind the pie-eating contest first, all of whom were previous pie-eating-contest winners, horribly transformed by the chef as a reward for being the biggest pigs. Wrack then sacrificed one of the carnival's beasts of burden. Unfortunately, part of Mrunk's revivification already included a restoration spell, so another one in such short interval had no effect on him.

Next, the heroes saw a tiny, whimsical-looking humanoid darting about swiftly on wildly-colored gossamer wings. He was wandering around the fair handing out free drinks.

As soon as he noticed the heroes, he dipped his arrows into the brew. He fled as soon as Mrunk and Aranthor got close enough to make melee attacks.

Pursuing the Prancing Quickling (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

The manhog's machine was filled with rotten entrails. The manhog stomped the pedal and blasted Mrunk with a shot of entrails as he approached. The blast was a ranged attack that targeted all opponents in a line emanating from the wielder. Targets struck were dealt fire damage.

The heroes managed to kill the beast, while Syntira made an appearance to ensure it was dead. According to her, the swine was the one responsible for turning her people against her, and anyone who came in contact with it could suffer the same fate.

The heroes found the quickling around the Titan's Wheel next. As an unaffected patron chased fairgoers away from the Titan's Wheel, the quickling yanked his pants down. When spotted, the quickling ran through this section.

Next, the quickling ran into the Strong Ale Tent. Beneath the ale tent, the reveling lumberjacks stood contorted in various stages of rigor as they slowly transformed into gnarled trees, while their comrades stumbled about in an alcohol-infused haze engaging in one-sided conversations with oak skinned friends. One scrawny jack drunkenly boasted about his axe work and obliviously displayed his prowess by whacking one of the tree men and deftly splitting him into a small pile of logs.

Lumberjacks aplenty began to sprout branches and take root here. The quickling rustled branches in newly formed "trees" as he darted about, stealing a lumberjack's cap at one point flitting about with the oversized (and visible) hat on his head.

Next, the quickling ran into the Blind Peep Show. Signs sloppily painted in brownish-red blood read "Free Peep Show!" Their arrows pointed to a pair of nondescript tents erected in the shadow of the wood, just beyond the ale tents. In front of the tents, fairgoers of all types lined up before the entrance, bristling with excited anticipation to see what caused the bright flashes of light and horrified screams from within. Mangled in the branches of the nearby trees hung the bodies of several half-orcs, dancers, and a pair of foreign musicians, their mouths and eye sockets all stuffed with fresh daisies.

Once the fey took over, Kabran's goons were "sent away", and his dancers were replaced by Ambrosia, who blinded patrons before other fey descended on them with murder in mind. The quickling tugged at Ambrosia's veils, revealing her charms to onlookers, before disappearing again. Ambrosia blinded Aranthor and Wrack, before she cast a spell to call for aid.

Hearts of Ice (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

Inside the tent, a freakishly small, soot-smeared barker wearing a threadbare wool suit and a top hat incited a crowd, directing attention to the various pieces of machinery around the room as he deftly rattled off his pitch:

"Step right up! Step right up, folks! See the world's most magnificent manipulations of modern machinery! Guaranteed to chop, dice, and saw away yer troubles! You'll just die when you see'em! Welcome to the convenience of the modern age!"

The dark ice fey seized this tent and used the machinists, engineers, and other folk who were supposed to operate and service the machines to put on exciting displays, demonstrating the power of the machinery by feeding it lumberjacks, millworkers, and lumber barons who stopped by to experience the wonder of the carnival. This encounter was a factory of death.

Anyone approaching too close to a machine risked grisly death. While operating, all machines created a threatened area. Whenever an individual entered that area, they were subject to the machine's attacks. Mrunk and Wrack entered these machines' threatened spaces and were attacked by swinging blades, slashing pendulums, or other similar contraptions. Individual machines were stopped by dealing damage to single machines.

The blade of doom was suspended from an old catapult frame, and was a massive circular sawblade with a diameter the length of a cow that spinned at a blinding speed. A conveyor belt crafted entirely from spiked chain hauled people toward the whirling monstrosity that rent them in half as easily as a plough tills land. Wrack got grappled by the conveyor belt. Seoni deactivated the machine before he passed through the blade, and everyone helped to free him.

The chipper was a long wooden chute that led to a gaping metal opening filled with several twirling axles, each fitted with dozens of rapidly rotating blades.

The ten splitter was responsible for the relentless chopping of a mechanized row of ten axes, all attached to a lever and pulley system. Two laborers loaded the machine by placing people upright beneath the blades. Then with a single pull of the main lever, all the axes fell, dramatically killing all ten people at once.

In the debarker people were bolted to titanic iron gears and locked into a frame, creating a giant rotating spindle. As people span, a huge mechanical arm fixed with an oversized lathe blade slammed into them, killing them into thick slices.

The planer was a board-maker of amazing power, demonstrated by one of the lumberjacks who gleefully tossed people between twin churning drums covered with iron rasps. They screamed as their remains popped out the other side.

The board press was a machine that restored and flattened warped boards using steam and pressure. Now it was used to place people onto a bed of short spikes, after which a heavy iron spike was latched down over the top. Giant turnscrews created incredible pressure while a series of twisted copper pipes spilled boiling hot water down on the device, bathing everything in a cloud of scalding steam. After the steam cleared, the screws were released and the remains popped out.

The stacker was a device that stacked and bound cords of wood into shipping pallets.Currently people were thrown down a chute on automated shuffling panels. The remains were then dropped onto panels squared off by iron bars. As soon as the pallet fills to the top, another helper pulled a lever that dropped down a device that looked like an oversized horseshoe from some scaffolding above. It fit neatly over the cord, and when it retracted, it bound all the remains together with small chains.

When the heroes disrupted the Modern Engineering tent, a quickling begun to taunt them from a safe distance. Even better the quickling paraded the witch ice shard in full view of the heroes, giving them an opportunity to gain Quinn's aid. Before they can destroy the shard, though, first they must catch its keeper, and that is no mean feat.

The quickling is 2-1/2 feet tall and extremely gaunt, with elfin features and pale, bluish skin. Long, slender ears rise to a sharp point near the top of his head and his hair flows behind him like quicksilver. He wears a shirt and leggings woven from leaves and tree bark. He called out to the heroes, "So these are the foolish mortals that are spoiling my master's plans. Silly creatures, your salvation is before you, but you can't catch me!" At this point he darted away into the crowd and disappeared. The heroes recognized the witch ice shard around his neck.

The quickling's chase led the heroes all over the carnival grounds from area to area. As he moved through the carnival Mrunk detected his exact location and Seoni targeted him with attacks as his capricious carousing showed signs of his presence. When the heroes moved through an area they drew the notice of any fey (or other threats) and were attacked as the quickling made his getaway.

The delicious scent of sugary berries and fresh baked pastry wafted by, drifting from a tent near the river. Waving high in the air above it, a blue silk banner beckoned "Biggy-Piggy Pie-Eating Contest!" in bright gold letters. Beneath the banner lay a twenty-foot long table covered with a red-checkered tablecloth. Seated at a bench before the table, twelve local contestants eagerly stared at the tremendous steaming pies placed before them. With napkins tucked into their shirts and their hands tied behind their backs, they awaited the signal to begin. Near the table, a wooden sign staked into the ground read "Entrance Fee: 2 Coppers, Winner Gets Fat Prize!"

To the left of the table, the event's sponsor emerged from behind a wheeled cart bearing the weight of a coal-burning oven. With a bellowing voice that complimented his immense rotundness, the pie chef yelled "Begin!" Within seconds, contestants' faces eagerly plunged into the fresh-baked pies as they slobbered and gnashed their way to victory.

Once the competition started, the chef happily filled new pie crusts with a strange device that looked like a giant butter churn attached to a spinning wheel with a big foot pedal. In the front of a churning chamber, a metal spigot attached to a 10-foot hose. When the pie chef stomped the pedal, steam shot out the top of the churn as gouts of pie filling erupted from the hose.

The Master of Ceremonies for the Pie-Eating Contest was a corpulent anthropomorphic hog. He happily fed contestants slop-filled pies packed with rotten entrails. Behind his tent grazed a dozen or so pigs.

Stepping on the foot-pump of the pie-filling machine released a cloud of steam that compressed a central chamber crammed with pie filling. This forced the filling through a long flexible cloth hose connected to a brass fitting that shot the filling into a pie.

The quickling dashed behind the stove and alerted the manhog that the heroes were tailing him. As the contest began, the quickling darted across the table, stomping the contestant's heads into the pies, suffocating them in a bizarre dance. This maneuver allowed the manhog time to position himself behind the oven with the pie-filing machine.The quickling left towards the Titan's Wheel but left behind an easily tracked set of pie-stain footprints trailing down toward the river. The manhog cast a spell before he ran behind the oven for cover, remaining within reach of his pie-filling machine.

Carnival of Tears (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

When the heroes returned from their meeting, they found the carnival had been drastically altered in their absence. Yellow globes of light that floated and twirled through the air above the carnival now brilliantly lit the paths and tents of the show. Every so often, a new yellow globe rose from one of the tents and joined the growing multitude above the fairgrounds.

Most of the people had gathered along the lakeshore to witness a breathtaking display of fireworks. When the heroes arrived, the moon was high in the sky; its light shimmered off the ice like pale ghosts dancing in the darkness. On the surface of the lake, fairgoers reveled and hooted, stomping their foot to rollicking fiddle music, played by a band of grigs that maniacally bowed their legs while hoping about the bandstand. A gong sounded from the stage and scores of colorful rockets suddenly sprung into the sky, where they exploded into glistening clouds of multicolored sparks that drifted gently to the ground. As the sparks slowly drifted on the wind, an unseen mist seemed to lift from the scene, and in a moment, everything changed.

The grigs continued to play, but instead of a lively dance tune, they were playing an eerie, haunting melody that dripped with sadness and cruelty. They stood off to the side with expressions of anxious expectation. Meanwhile, instead of colored sparks, a rain of leeches drifted from the sky and settled over the crowd with a series of wet noises.

Unless the heroes can stop the slaughter, most of the population of Falcon's Hollow is likely to die within the next couple of hours. All around the show, the fey have transformed the fun carnival events into death traps, while the hapless townsfolk wandered around with smiles on their faces, only realizing the true situation after it was too late. While a few of the townsfolk realized what was going on, the rest of the carnival blissfully ignored their cries of fear and terror.

Not every area had been changed. The menagerie of freaks, the vacant tents and the ice carving were empty and dark; the carnies that were running them were missing.

Black lines smeared through Sathelbry's name on the signboard in front of his sleigh stop. It now read, "Free Sleigh Rides for Children". Seated in the driver's seat, a queer little gnome with an icy beard waited patiently as dozens of children piled into the sled.

As the heroes approached, the gnome driver cracked his whip, lurching the overpacked sleigh toward the nearby wood at a breakneck speed. The heroes saw a mangled corpse bound beneath the sleigh, its head dragging against the snow leaving behind a bloody trail. Searching the feed trough revealed limbs diced into the horses' oats. The sleigh driver was a frosty chiseler who the heroes could not stop.

The Titan's Wheel had undergone a drastic change. Stripped of its once colorful decorations, it jutted like a rotten claw from a quagmire of mud and blood. Fairgoers navigated toward it on rotten planks arranged as stepping stones to span the fetid morass. Ghoulish trophies dangled from the great metal wheel, bound by their own intestines to the rusting metal so they dragged through the mud and up into the air as the wheel rotated. A gang of dark ice fey had transformed the Titan's Wheel into a sadistic torture device.

The barker tried to act as if nothing was wrong while the other three dark ice fey tried to get heroes to come around back and trick them into entering the machine. When injured, the fey disappeared.

A towering mass of sinew with a skeletal visage stalked the perimeter of the machine tents, randomly plucking carnival attendees and violently thrusting them beneath the tent's greasy canvas folds, where their hellish screams were mostly drowned out by the deafening grinding of the machinery within. Nothing walked from the tent's exit. Instead, a dark fey raked piles of shredded flesh and ground bone into a shallow trench of bloody pulp that trickled down the hill and into the river.

The gruesome tentkeeper, Jhoruk, did his best to maintain his Eye of Rapture cover. When the heroes gave him trouble, he attempted to bounce them first, trying to appear as menacing as possible, though when pushed he didn't hesitate to dig his claws into Mrunk. Jhoruk used his claws against Mrunk, saving his axe for Aranthor. When injured, Jhoruk had no problem calling for aid from within the tent. Despite that, the heroes emerged victorious. The other fey fled when Wrack cast shatter.

Syntira's Summons (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

About half an hour before the fireworks display was set to begin, a woman's scream rang out across the grounds. The wail of pure terror lasted several seconds before it ended just as abruptly, leaving behind an ominous silence that was, in a way, even more frightening.

After a few seconds of silence, however, the carnival slowly returned to normal. No one seemed willing to investigate the source of the scream.

When the heroes investigated, Gradzaal was easy to find. His first kill rested just around the corner from the entrance, and his bloody hoofprints were easy to follow from there as they headed deeper into the maze. When the heroes tracked him down, they found him standing over the lifeless corpse of his most recent kill, smiling as he licked the blood from his axe. Gradzaal laid waste with his greataxe. He fought until rendered unconscious. The heroes defeated Gradzaal before he killed everyone inside the maze.

The master of the carnival was nowhere to be found during most of the festivities, but shortly before the fireworks display, Namdrin Quinn treated the patrons of the carnival to an impressive sword dance.

Namdrin is a sinewy half-elf of corded muscle and bone, with a long haunted face. His sunken eyes did not fix on an who attempted to speak with him, instead staring off.

He strode down the main thoroughfare clad in a heavy black hooded cloak, moleskin gloves, gray-black clothing, and high hard boots. Namdrin suddenly flourished his cloak, cast a spell, and drew two shining silver blades out of nowhere. For the next five minutes he blended graceful twirls and acrobatics with a dazzling display of unsurpassed swordmanship. His dance concluded with a slow twirl that ended with Namdrin sheathing his blades smoothly and striding away, heedless to the din of applause that erupted around him.

Just before the fireworks display was set to begin, a red fox delivered a note to the heroes:

"Hail Champions,
A bleak and bitter frost has fallen across the forest, and I fear it has reached even into the hearts of my people. Aided by agents of an ancient evil, they are about to visit such destruction upon the people of your community as has only been seen in nightmares. If you would aid me in combating these villains, please come quickly to the grove beyond the west entrance of the carnival. Do not be startled by my appearance.

- Syntira"

When the heroes reached the grove, on the western edge, a pinprick of yellow light flared suddenly against the darkness. From the smallest flash of color, it silently increased in radiance until it seemed as if the sun itself had come down from the heavens into the grove. Suddenly, directly in front of the light, an alluring female form appeared. The intensity of the light made it almost impossible to determine any of her features, but it was clear she must be stunningly beautiful, and completely naked. The only part of her that was clearly visible was her eyes, which were liquid brown and seemed to draw in the light. Her voice chimed with the crystal beauty of a mountain spring on a summer afternoon:

"Please do not fear. I will not harm you or any other mortal. I am Syntira, nymph queen of Darkmoon Vale, and I am of the First World. My court of fey lived in these dark woods before the first of your kind set foot upon its verdant green. For an age or more we have watched you from tree and shadow, through spider's eyes, underneath the wings of sparrows, and behind the grub worm and acorn. Long have we watched as your people bled the land with axe and flame. For a spell my anger grew such that I would see you all pay for such scourging of the forest. When I wallowed in the deepest pit of hate is when a cold wind blew down on my grove. A rider came with the wind; atop a dead stag and sheathed in frozen blades he came, and with a voice like steel on ice he promised me revenge. I agreed then, but now I know this course is ill. I only hope I have not awakened to the truth of this evil too late. When the rider came, my people changed. The cold froze their flesh; their hearts turned to ice. They forgot the green, forgot the woods. They forgot everything but hate. Now they come with the wind, led by their cold rider. They come to the carnival to butcher you and the rest of the mortals, and the only one who could stand against them is chained by bands of love stronger than iron.

"You must act quickly. My kin already begin their slaughter. Your people bleed - I feel their pain as I once did the torment of the trees. Pain is evil. Tree, beast, or man, it makes no matter, and no measure of cruelty can repair what has come before. Your kin suffer for nothing but spite. Save them, and save yourselves. But take this with you, lest you offer yourselves to the frozen fey as lambs to a butcher."

The intoxicating woman waved her hand across the snow, and a small collection of vials appeared. She continued: "Drink this and you will not fall prey to the rider's magic. He carries an iridescent purple flower of living ice called the Eye of Rapture, enchanted to cloak horror and agony in a guise of mirth and merriment. So long as this crystal remains unspoiled, your people will continue their revels as the fey cut them down. You must stop the slaughter. Only by frustrating the cold rider can you force him to appear so you can end your people's suffering once and for all."

Syntira supplied the heroes with vials of a liquid that counters the Eye of Rapture's effects. She prepared one vial for each hero but had no more to offer. After she delivered her speech, she lingered for a few moments to answer questions.

When asked who is this one she spoke of who could stand against the cold rider, she answered: "The master of the carnival, the half-elf for whom steel and shadow dance as one - he is their slave now. The rider has his wife imprisoned in a shard of deep black ice. Namdrin Quinn swore an unbreakable oath of the old world not to interfere with the cold rider's revenge, and in return his wife will be free of the ice shard prison that binds her fast. But Nmadrin is betrayed. The crystal feeds on his love's soul, and the only freedom she will know is horrid death, her soul consumed by the evil of the shard. Namdrin cannot break his oath, but you could free him of his bond. If you can destroy the shard and free his wife, the compact will be sundered, and the half-elf will rise against his tormentors and aid you."

When asked how could the heroes kill the cold rider, she answered: "The rider is a fell foe. His antlers twist, stab, and pierce the flesh of mortals with a life of their own. His glaive freezes blood in the vein. As long as ice is near, his wounds knit and seal, and he cannot be easily slain. Fire and shattering force, or the vibrations of sound, can destroy him best. His armor is thick, but can be sundered by magic if you know the proper spell."

Blind Peep Show (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

After the heroes defeated the frosty chiselers, they rescued the townsfolk captured by the fey. When rescued, the prisoners remembered nothing about their captivity, other than that Mr. Sathelbry seemed to be in collusion with the chiselers.

Beneath a tall signboard reading "Mr. Sathelbry's Wild Sleigh Rides" stood four massive chargers coupled to three wooden passenger sleds linked together with chains. Hunched in the first sled was the driver, an aged, one-armed man dressed in a long threadbare wool coat, his snarling face wrapped with a dull red scarf. As the driver snapped his whip and the sled lurched forward, ragtag children darted from shadowed hollows beneath nearby wagons and tried to snag free rides before the distracted driver sees them.

The driver is a cantankerous one-armed geezer who the townsfolk only know as Mr. Sathelbry. Each year, he dresses his team of chargers, hitches them to his sleighs, and for a small fee (5 cp) he drives fairgoers over field and dale around the fairgrounds at an almost breakneck pace.

Sathelbry never smiles, and by his sour expression one might think that he despises his job. Rumors abound that the old man hoards his carnival money and saves his coppers to last him the remainder of the year. Still, those who carefully watch the man see his eyes twinkle sadistically when he denies passage to the town's orphaned children.

The heroes noticed a group of ragtag children loitering near Mr' Sathelbry's Wild Sleigh Ride begging for a free ride. The crusty old sleigh master snarled at them, even kicking one into the snow with a cold-hearted laugh and a "no copper, no ride!"

The heroes confronted Mr. Sathelbry about his collusion with the frosty chiselers, and when he denied kidnapping villagers, Aranthor cut of the reigns that connected the chargers to the sleigh. Eventually the sheriff showed up and arrested Mr. Sathelbry, after Mrunk surmised that he is probably the victim of enchantment magic. During the scene, Mrunk noticed a miniature sprite riding in one of the children's patchwork pockets. Wrack paid the child a hefty sum for his coat and asked the sprite what she is doing at the fair. The sprite admitted that she is on a mission to find humanoid champions for her Queen, but refused to reveal more. The heroes agreed to follow the sprite and prove to her that they are fit to be her Queen's champions.

The sprite led them to a few plain-colored tents standing before a row of cargo wagons. A wooden sign staked into the ground before them read "CARNIES ONLY! NO ADMITTANCE!"

Mutters Condlan paid the tent's owners to scram so that he might have his way with a young woman. When the heroes wandered into this area they automatically spotted Mutters as he dragged a protesting girl into the shadows of the vacant tents.

Mutters has no puissance at combat, so when confronted he tried to convince the heroes to mind their own business at first, even offering them 30 gp to look the other way. When the party refused, Condlan railed at anyone who tried to interfere, attempting to drive them off with threats and bravado. When Aranthor seriously threatened him, he immediately turned tail and ran.

Next the sprite led them in the shadows behind a tent where a young red-haired woman sat crying and holding the side of her face in pain. Removing her hand, she revealed a bruise already forming in her milky white cheek. A short half-orc with blood-red eyes loomed over her, a snarl on his ugly face.

Aside from his blood-red eyes, Kabran's most striking feature is his missing nose. He wears a bronze nosepiece over the crater in his face that whistles disturbingly when he sucks air through it and dribbles blood and mucus incessantly (which Kabran wipes away with a crimson handkerchief). He wears a simple red overcoat adorned with gold and ivory buttons over his mithral chainmail. The burly half-orc carried an ornate masterwork greatsword on his back. The heroes interfered on Ralla's behalf.

Kabran attempted to avoid making a scene, offering the heroes a free sample of Ralla's wares if they left him alone. When this failed he intimidated them with a snarl and a "don't get between an orc and his earners, you tuskless pig". Kabran quickly drew his fancy dagger and attacked Mrunk. When significantly injured, Kabran backed down and let Ralla go, but he promised "this is far from over".

Fun and Games (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

A sign outside a tent read "Madame Viscolla - Not only can she see your future, she can change it!" Inside the tent sat an old crone wrapped in an ornately patterned shawl. Her dark eyes burned like charcoal. She introduced herself with a croak that promised an expensive but unforgettable reading. For a fee of 1 gp, Madame Viscolla "read" an individual's cards, but always predicted a torpid outcome.

Following a reading for Aranthor, she offered to aid her ill-fated client in rejecting fate, attempting to change his foreseen destiny using her powerful magic. For 100 gp, she asked Aranthor his greatest fear. When Aranthor told her, she cast a powerful magical ward. Seoni recognized this as the equivalent of a contingency spell. After all the heroes accepted her wards and as they were leaving, she handed them a cold iron wand of shatter with 35 charges remaining. "When the time comes", she said, "use it well".

After their visit with Madame Viscolla, Wrack decided to use the heartripper blade to divine answers. The heroes spent some time in the forest around the fairgrounds to locate and sacrifice a rabbit, and they learned that the monkey they were looking for was not in the fairgrounds yet, but was on its way from the forest, and it would end up in the maze. They finished their grisly task just after sunset, when they heard screams coming from the edge of the forest. When they reached the area in question, they saw four massive chargers hitched to three wooden passenger sleds coupled together with chains. Hunched in the first sled iswas the driver, an aged, one-armed man dressed in a long threadbare wool coat, his snarling face wrapped with a dark red scarf. The driver snapped his whip and the sled lurched forward. /in addition, two frosty chiselers dragged the unconscious bodies of two fairgoers through the woods. The heroes killed one and captured the other, but not before Wrack was cursed by their brittlebones curse.

Seoni only knew the cantakerous one-armed geezer as Mr. Sathelbry. Each year, he dressed his team of chargers, hitched them to his sleighs, and for a small fee he drove fairgoers over field and dale around the fairgrounds at an almost breakneck pace. Rumors abound that the old man hoards his carnival money and saves his coppers to last him the remainder of the year.

Carnival Areas

1. Ticket Booths (3)
2. Mr. Sathelbry's Wild Sleigh Rides
3. Menagerie of Freaks
4. Vacant Tents
5. The Titan's Wheel
6. Strong Ale Tent
7. Blind Peep Show
8. The Wonders of Modern Engineering
9. Lakeside
10. Pie Baking Contest
11. Candy Apples
12. Quinn's Performance
13. The Monster Gradzaal
14. The Ice Maze
15. Ice Carving
16. Archery Contest
17. Coal Walker
18. Egg Toss
19. Gypsy Fate-Tweeker
20. Ring Toss
21. Sack Race

Fun on Ice (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

Further interrogation of Jeva revealed that the string and needle she gave the heroes will hold off a great evil, if given to a monkey next to a box. The masterminds of this evil are an elven woman and a beast with horns, and it will take place within the next 24 hours. The woman and the beast were apparently Jeva's friends, but they captured her and gave her to the carnival after she saw them murdering multiple people, including women and children. They must have covered their tracks well, because the heroes could not find anyone in the carnival that had heard of such a crime in the area.

As the heroes wandered through the fairground, they overheard snippets of conversation and sought to learn more about the unusual carnival. They learned that Quinn is the carnival master, but people said that he rarely showed himself these days. The half-elf used to be an adventurer, one of the most famous about. He led some of his fellow carnies in a party called the Nightshades along with his wife Tessa - at least until some horrible monsters in Darkmoon Wood killed her. Quinn has never been the same since. Quinn's cohorts were pretty disreputable curs before he rehabilitated them. The heroes heard that since Tessa was killed, Quinn didn't take much interest in the carnival's minotaur. People wouldn't be surprised if he returned to his old ways without Quinn to bring him to heel.

Eventually it was time to meet the sheriff at the strong ale tent. The clank of tankards and roars of laughter swelled from this bustling tent filled with sweaty lumberjacks. Casks of ale were stacked nearly fifteen feet high behind the tent. The thirsty patrons here downed pint after pint as they caroused, tussled, guffawed, and staggered about.

This tent was propped over a clear swath of frosty ground, formerly a cutyard but now just a collection of stumps the drunk lumberjacks used as stools or toilets. Fine ale shipped in from the Hawkberry Brewery in Lord's Crossing was served by the pint here, tapped from more than fifty casks and kegs. Sheriff Deldrin Baleson wanted to discuss with the heroes a possible alliance against the nefarious Thuldrin Kreed. His proposal left the heroes unimpressed.

At one point, a very drunk lumberjack stumbled through the crowd, spitting out a slurred challenge to the heroes. He pushed into Aranthor before proclaiming, "Elves think they're so tough, but they're really all a bunch of low-life wimps". He challenged Aranthor to a fistfight, and without waiting for a reply he swung wildly at his head. The heroes subdued him without dealing lethal damage.

The man was drunk and threw his tankard at the heroes to get their attention. He swung wildly and carelessly. Filled with liquid courage, he fought until magically rendered asleep.

Wrack ended up setting up his brew wagon, the Flagon Wagon, at the lakeside. The frozen lake had been transformed into a wonderland of winter fun. Several ice skaters twirled and danced across one half of the shimmering surface, while on the opposite half two teams of men struggled as they attempted to tug each other back and forth across the slippery ice.

The carnival minotaur the heroes heard about was the monster Gradzaal. A small encampment of wagons and tents rested near the entrance to the ice maze. In the center of this encampment sat a tremendous iron cage. Inside paced a hulking dark haired minotaur performing displays of strength for an unruly audience of carnival goers who gawked and jeered at the great beast. Children dared one another to pull the beast's mangy hair or pelt it with snowballs, hoping to elicit a fierce snarl from the terrible beast, which then sent the kids scattering. A brightly painted plaque bolted to the bars of the cage read "Mighty Gradzaal! The Monstrous Minotaur!" The shaggy minotaur served as the carnival's strongman, bending steel bars, lifting marble benches with as many as six grown lumberjacks sitting on them and biting through masterwork manacles.

Two tall columns of hard-packed snow marked a gaping entrance into the ice maze. Beyond, shimmering ice walls climbed into a mammoth labyrinth of twisting frigid corridors.

The ice maze was one of the carnival's premier events. Spanning several hundred feet of meadow on the northern side of the river, its twisted corridors were designed to confuse and confine its thrill-seeking explorers.

Throughout the maze, the carnies placed many playful obstacles to confuse, frighten, and mislead; they consisted mostly of harmless snow sculptures, slick patches, and other awkward terrain. In addition, five carnies darted through the ice warrens, each emulating Gradzaal's fierce countenance by wearing a papier-mache mask of a large bull. The masked carnies snuck about the maze, popping out at fairgoers and eliciting screams of excitement. A gold ring pierced the nostrils of one of the bull masks. Anyone plucking it from the mask could cash it in for a carnival doll. Unfortunately, the heroes failed to win a doll.

Adjacent to the ice maze was the ice carving area. A trio of bizarre little gnomes furtively scurried about, struggling to lug tremendous blocks of ice onto a small field on the northern riverbank. The area was roped off and signs posted about read "Do Not Enter!" As ice blocks were moved into rows, the strange creatures draped the blocks with blankets to obscure them from the public view all the while shooing away fairgoers attempting to watch. A banner above the field read "Gruttlemugger's Travelling Ice Carving Contest! 100 gp to the Grandest Chipper!" The gnomes chased away Wrack when he attempted to pry into their business.

Festival on Ice (Sarenith [June]-Lamashan[October] 4708 AR)

The tunnel leading into the next chamber made a sharp ninety-degree turn to the north before opening into a twenty-foot-high, thirty-five-foot-long cavern filled with a shallow lake that glittered with a faint greenish light from algae on the ceiling.

This used to be the main room for worship for the cultists - they knelt in the cold, 2-feet-deep water before a polished granite altar at the east side of the room (not visible from the beginning of the lake). The heroes noticed a handful of half-melted skeletons in the "water" that seemed to be still in the process of dissolving. When Mrunk managed to make it to the altar, he saw that it had the symbol of Zyphus carved on the front and was covered with rotting organs and other offerings to the Grim Harvestman. A small brazier atop the altar gave off a strong musky odor as it burned - the heroes could smell this as soon as they headed down the tunnel. Mrunk, in order to avoid stepping into the acid pool, climbed along the walls and reached the altar. The north wall was smooth and slippery and quite difficult to climb but the south wall was jagged and unfinished and relatively easy to traverse.

Mrunk and Wrack found a small metal rod on the ground in front of the pool. This acid did not give off noxious fumes like a normal pool of acid would.

Mrunk, Seoni and Wrack had to destroy the altar. The altar was constructed of masonry, and after hours of chipping at it, Mrunk managed to destroy it.

The last room once served as the bath house of the cult. Two sputtering torches still burned here, casting most of the room in shadowy illumination. Most of the pool was slush - with several frigid and wet bodies in it. The tunnel and frozen bath house had 20-foot-long ceilings.

There was a simple snare trap in the tunnel leading to the bath house - it caught a cultist. He still hung from the snare 10 feet up, his head distorted and purple from the weight of all the blood in his body. A small pool of blood marred the chamber floor beneath him.

Defeating Baillaset and the remaining of Oppara's Zyphus cultists did what the Society hoped it would - it rid Oppara of a cult that tricked and murdered an esteemed Pathfinder, and it sent a message to other cults not to trifle with the Society. After spending the summer in Oppara, the heroes heeded the request of their homesick protege, Savram, to return to Falcon's Hollow. Aranthor decided to follow them.

Strange winds blew down from Droskar's Crag, bringing on an early winter. The ground crunched underfoot with thick frost, and autumn surrendered without a fight. Days grew shorter and stars held court in the darkness reigning above. An unnatural cold permeated the town, and the Foam River's jubilant voice was frozen under the ice. Birds abandoned their nests for warmer climes, their songs silenced by winter's grim embrace. But the frozen riverbank now held a shimmering respite from the gloomy cold in the form of garish tents, joyful shouts, and sumptuous smells. Quinn's carnival had come to town.

Some of the heroes got to Quinn's Carnival for the simple opportunity for some fun. Especially after returning from Taldor, some jumped at the chance to relax for a while and have a good time. Sheriff Baleson sent the heroes an invitation with a specific reason to head to the fair, to meet him in the strong ale tent. Some of the heroes wanted to take the rescued children to the carnival, plus their parents demanded to treat the party to a night of revels as a meager token of gratitude. Wrack also saw an opportunity for business, trying to meet with the Carnival's master, Namdrin Quinn, in order to sell his brews.

Namdrin was a sinewy half-elf of corded muscle and bone, with a long face. His sunken eyes did not fix on any who attempted to speak with him, instead staring off. When Wrack spoke to him before going to the carnival, Namdrin was curt in reply to any inquiries, responding to questions with a strained cordialness that was barely human, but eventually Wrack procured a permit to sell his wares at the fair.

Adjacent pairs of rickety podiums tacked together from pieces of apple crates formed raggedy ticket booths that marked various entrances to the carnival. Eager-faced fairgoers crammed about them, gleaning wonderment from the faded posters promising stilt-walkers, terrifying rides, and all manner of freaks. Tirelessly working the booths, baggy-eyed carnies busily hawked tickets to various events and did their best to direct the stream of excited townsfolk. A crowd of unwashed beggars shielded from the winter's harsh kiss by nothing more than tattered rags huddled by the entrance to the carnival, pleading with passersby for a few meager coppers or a bit of food to see them through. Many were children or old men and women fallen on hard times. A good number were maimed from lumbering accidents or crippled by a horrible bout with plague or pneumonia. Rich merchants turned a blind eye to the haggard indigents, pretending not to see or hear them at all, and lumberjacks snarled, guffawed, or even kicked at the dirty beggars as they strolled into the carnival to spend their coin on games, shows, and other frivolities.

Tiny fair tents erected on the perimeter of the fair grounds allowed fairgoers to purchase basic entry as well as provided tickets for special events and contests. Most of the events only cost a few coppers.

Twenty-two beggars in all gathered at the ticket booths, although they had no luck with any of the townsfolk. Aranthor gave alms to the beggars huddled at the carnival's entrance.

Gaiety and laughter cut through the cold wind, and even the sky-shy sun peeked its face from around the gathering winter clouds. Children squealed with delight and gasped in awe of the sights, sounds, and smells of Quinn's Carnival. The titan's wheel creaked and groaned as a burly lumberjack tested his might with a hefty spin, a family rushed giggling into the sprawling ice maze to the north, and dozens of happy skaters flitted about the rinks atop the frozen river. Carnival dolls were handed to wide-eyed townsfolk as prizes and a menagerie of freakish creatures and glowing lanterns beckoned the curious. Garish skirts and scanty veils called others to a different breed of voyeurism altogether. Treats and wonders abounded for young and old to enjoy, and for a time the early winter was forgotten in joyful revelry. The heroes wandered the fairgrounds as they pleased, taking in the myriad diversions.

A small cove of wagons and tents curled around a rickety three-foot-high stage cobbled from a wooden platform precariously balanced on stacks of unmortared bricks. The stage planks creaked and moaned in time to the prancing and posturing of a dozen or so freakish humanoids as they performed their comically grotesque displays. A dough faced huckster preached to the crowd and flailed about a cane to pontificate the show's details.

The stage played host to several different performances who rotated throughout the day. In addition to these, several more sideshows were located within the various tents adjacent to the stage.

Chained to a stool, a dog-faced little girl in a charming yellow and white flowered dress mournfully howled at passersby. The dog-faced girl was actually Jeva. The heroes took pity on her, and Wrack created some chaos on the stage to facilitate her running away from the carnies with Mrunk. Jeva couldn't revert to her humanoid form and thus couldn't speak, but used pantomiming to warn the heroes of some grave danger. She handed them a needle and thread with a knowing nod towards the ice maze.

Into the Pit (Sarenith [June] 4708 AR, day 2)

The next room contained a row of nine open coffins stretching from east to west across the north wall. Each coffin was made from a dark wood, painted black, and polished to a mirror finish. The inside of each coffin was lined with green fabric and held a ratty blanket and musty pillow. Boxes, crates, and barrels lined the south wall on either side of the simple wooden door the heroes entered from.

This barracks was the morbid sleeping quarters for the most respected members of the cult - most of whom are now dead. Seoni examined the boxes, crates, and barrels remotely using magic, which contained a variety of food supplies, such as flour, sugar, dried meat, grains, and so on. The entire room smelled sickly sweet, vaguely like a mixture of rotting vegetables and sweet taffy.

The furthest coffin on the east side of the room had a male elf in it. Seoni determined he was killed by poisoning. The body of a male human lay crumpled in front of the barrels on the southeast side of the room - Wrack determined he also died by poisoning.

Mrunk found several items of value on the body of the elf. He found a scroll of lesser restoration, a magic short sword and a gray small magic sack that appeared empty. When Mrunk reached into it he felt a small, fuzzy ball.

The next area was just part of the larger tunnel complex beyond. The tunnels were 5 feet wide and 10 feet tall. This area was separated from the larger tunnel complex by a heavy black canvas that was nailed into the ceiling and draped across the tunnel 10 feet from the door in the west wall which the heroes entered from.

The black canvas was put up to hide a rock fall trap beyond. The heroes triggered the rock trap remotely, but it warned the cultists in the tunnels of their approach.

These tunnels were carved out by hand and braced with thick planks of wood. The carved ceilings stretched to 10 feet in height and around five feet in width. The walls and floor were damp, and the sound of dripping water could be heard throughout.

Water constantly dripped from the ceiling, and a thin trickle of water run along the side of the tunnels, emptying down the sinkhole further south. The water here had no impact on combat.

A group of cultists had found themselves trapped here. After the heroes set off the rock trap, the cultists were ready and waiting for them. The cultists moved out of sight of the single torch in the northeast corner of the tunnels and waited to ambush the heroes in the northeast corner and in the south where the two tunnels reconnected. The cultists were not strategic fighters - they picked the nearest foe, got close, and attacked furiously. With no other options left to them, the cultists fought to the death.

Wrack determined that the men were starving and likely hadn't eaten in a few days. One of the cultists carried a note in his pocket:

"Baillaset,
Trusted ally, go to Oppara, find that miserable stink hole our brethren call a temple to our lord Zyphus, and instill some fear and carnage in their ranks for Bustrani's miserable failure. Tell them all that you have been sent by Zyphus, They're fools, they'll believe it. And then tell them that Zyphus wants them to trap the temple and lure their fellow cultists into accidental death. Tell them the final cultist will replace Bustrani and rebuild the temple. (The last part is true, so don't dispatch all of them.) Then spend your time watching them destroy one another, feasting on their corpses, and keeping them afraid. Use the Zyphus-granted power I instilled in you to curse every single one of them. That should make things more interesting.

Your Master,

Harvestman Quint"

The same cultist who carried the note also carried a pouch full of coins. The pouch contained 170 pp.

The tunnel ended south; a small stream of water flowed from it to the center of a chamber, where it plunged through a shadowy sinkhole. Glowing green algae coated the chamber's walls and ceilings, painting the entire room in an eerie light.

There were no traps here and nothing to challenge the heroes beyond climbing down the sinkhole. The heroes were incredibly paranoid by this point - and they should be. But this room contained no challenges other than a simple climb down the knotted rope, which Seoni botched.

The rope through the sinkhole descended 20 feet before entering a 10-foot-high chamber. This room was empty and dark, but the heroes heard voices coming from one of the three dark tunnels that exited the room to the north and west. The waterfall from the pit dropped into a small, shallow pool here and then trickled down the west and northwest tunnels.

The heroes followed the north tunnel, which wend from the bottom of the pit to the baptismal font. At several points throughout splashes of blood could easily be seen either as drag marks on the floor (Wrack determined they all headed north) or splatters on the wall.

A swinging axes trap was set here. When Aranthor activated this trap, its noise automatically warned the wight Baillaset in the baptismal font that the heroes were approaching.

Just before the baptismal font was a swinging scythe trap, as evidenced by the headless corpse beneath it. A second corpse was pinned to the east wall of the tunnel - the trap struck him, killed him, and then jammed on his body.

A stone trench about 3 feet high run the length of the west wall of the baptismal font room. Hanging above it were several human men, their chests flayed open, their blood dripping and pooling in the trench below. A thin stone tube then run from the middle of the gory container, funneling blood down toward a stone basin in the center of the room. Judging from the blood splashed around the outside of the basin, something recently crawled out of it.

This room used to be where Fel Bustrani baptized his new followers into the Zyphus faith - he used water to do so. The four cultists currently hanging above the trench were killed a while ago, so the blood was starting to thicken in the gory containers.

Baillaset, a wight, waited here. He was aware that the heroes were coming, and waited just west of the entrance to this room, ready to ambush Aranthor, who was the first through the door. Baillaset got in close and stayed there, preferring to target one hero at a time. Baillaset fought until destroyed - when destroyed, he evaporated in a bloody red mist.

Zyphus Tests (Sarenith [June] 4708 AR, days 1-2)

The heroes next found a stairwell that was the secret entrance to the deeper levels of the Zyphus cult's hideout. The entire landing at the top of the secret stairs was a camouflaged pit trap, which Wrack fell into.

The first room of the second level had a five-foot-wide, rickety rope bridge stretching from a small landing at the bottom of the secret stairwell on the south side across a twenty-foot deep pit to another small landing on the north side. The north landing had a solid wood door leading north and the south landing had the secret stairwell leading up to the west.

This room represented the first test for new Zyphus recruits. A new recruit had to cheat death by crossing the rope bridge before a poltergeist triggered the bridge collapse and either crushed the new recruit's skull with a rock or hurled him to death against one of the walls. Hustavan knew about this room (having once passed the test) but he believed the poltergeist was actually Zyphus himself. When asked how they normally got through this room, he said, "Once you figure it out, you just get through here as quickly as possible. Lots of cultists die here even after they're part of the cult."

The poltergeist here used its telekinesis ability with annoying results. The bridge was rigged to collapse - something the poltergeist knew how to rig but didn't get a chance to.

The poltergeist spent most of the combat flying above the bridge throwing 25-pound rocks at the heroes. When Mrunk crossed the bridge he was targeted with telekinesis as the poltergeist pushed him in the pit. Once Mrunk was in the pit, the poltergeist resumed throwing rocks at the heroes. The poltergeist's only accessible rocks heavy enough to do damage to the heroes were in a single pile near three corpses in the pit. The poltergeist had to swoop down to pick one up and the heroes could spot him picking up a rock. He fought until destroyed.

There were three dead cultists in the pit - 2 human males and a female half-elf. Mrunk examined the bodies and found that both males were killed by massive internal injuries, probably from falling. When he examined the half-elf he found dozens of tiny bites all across her body which suggested that she probably died of some kind of poison.  None of the cultists possessed anything of value.

The next room had four evenly spaced canvas walls in the middle, running parallel to each other in a row stretching from north to south. On both sides of each wall hung dozens of paintings, drawings, and sketches of a variety of violently-themed scenes. The heroes walked in through a solid wooden door in the middle of the south wall and a heavier, oaken door was in the middle of the north wall.

This gallery was where Fel Bustrani kept his collection of tragedy- and accident-themed art. The works each depicted some horrible event - the tragic death of a child hit by a wagon, a building collapse killing dozens of workers, and so on. The largest painting, on the far left canvas wall, depicted the interior of a large, elegantly appointed opera house where rotting undead fed on the living. Mrunk, Seoni and Wrack instantly recognized the opera house as the House of the Immortal Son.

A mechanical fire trap was set in the ceiling just above the north door. When Wrack stepped onto the square in front of the door he triggered the trap and it exploded toward the south side of the room in a 15-foot cone, setting the gallery on fire and almost killing Hustavan. The part of the gallery in the area of effect burned immediately; the fire then spread slowly until the heroes put it out. The oaken door in the north wall had been heavily treated with fire-resistant residue and did not burn during the fire.

Nine of the twelve paintings were lost in the fire. Aranthor needed to recover the painting of Panmagistros Taticus Petros the Spear-Bearer of Zimar intact and undamaged. The difficulty was that the painting was on the second canvas wall from the east and was hung directly in the path of the mechanical fire trap. When the trap was activated, the painting went up in flames.

The next room was split in half by a half-moon shaped cliff. The lower side, along the south wall, was twenty feet below the higher side on the north wall. The cliff was rather smooth, seemingly absent of handholds or any easy way to climb it. The heroes entered through a solid, oaken door to the south, and two simple wooden doors led out to the north and east. The room smelled vaguely like cooked meat.

This room represented the second test for new Zyphus recruits, a test of their persistence. The rock wall was incredibly difficult to climb and most recruits spent hours trying trying to scale the 20-foot-cliff, if only to avoid having to quit and walk back out through the first Zyphus test. Mrunk found a hidden set of handholds tucked back into a natural crease that run up the rock wall in the middle.

There was a nasty tripped trap, firing spikes from inside the hidden handholds in the natural crease. There were a dozen or so spikes embedded in the heavy oak door and the south wall as well as a dozen spikes imbedded in the corpse of a human female lying against the base of the cliff. There was also a tripped boiling oil trap that was the source of the room's smell. Two deformed and burned bodies lay against the eastern door in a puddle of congealed oil. None of the bodies possessed anything of value.

Crypt (Sarenith [June] 4708 AR, day 1)

Rain pattered down in sheets over the scorched skeleton of a once majestic building. Walls of thick, blackened masonry stand tall and abandoned, with gaping wounds revealing where stained glass windows once caught the morning sun. The roof has collapsed and most of its remnants are long gone. Only large, immovable remnants of the crumbling masonry remain in the rubble piles scattered throughout the ruin.

All that remains inside this ruin are rocks and chunks of wood either too worn out and ruined to be of use or too heavy to carry away. There are signs that this place has been used in the past for shelter, but it has since completely collapsed, and most of the residents of the vagabond camp seemed to give it wide berth. Two sets of ruined stairs in the temple's south wall lead to a once proud pulpit. At the back of the pulpit, an enormous stone lid, several hundred pounds in weight, has been pulled off a set of stairs leading down into darkness.

The former consul of Oppara, Magistros Sebastus Hustavan, was here, currently being menaced by a pack of wild dogs. Hustavan is well over 6 feet tall, shockingly thin, and quite old. His head is balding and fringed by frizzled gray hair. His chin and cheeks are covered in several weeks' worth of beard growth, the gray hairs standing out against his pale, leathery skin. He wears long white robes, muddy, torn, and ragged, and wears what looks to be a blue sash tied around his waist as a belt. The dogs were mangy, dirty things. When the heroes arrived, Hustavan stood on the pulpit. He was wielding a long piece of wet, rotting wood and was just barely keeping the dogs at bay. Once Aranthor entered the temple ruins, the dogs abandoned Hustavan to his perch and attacked. Sullen and depressed, Hustavan moped and complained a great deal. He fleed for safety, crying for the heroes to help him.

Once the heroes killed the dogs, Hustavan dropped to his knees and began sobbing. Hustavan is a broken shell of his once proud, arrogant self. He told the heroes that Fel Bustrani's Zyphus-blessed plan to uncover the ancient Zyphus Stone and turn all of Oppara's citizens into slobbering, horrid zombies failed. In a twist of irony, Hrol, Mrunk, Seoni and Wrack struck down Bustrani not long after he betrayed and murdered the Pathfinder who helped him in the acquisition of the Zyphus Stone in the first place. All of this came to pass inside the House of the Immortal Son, Oppara's most famous opera house and a frequent gathering spot of Oppara's wealthiest citizens. Pathfinders in Oppara are now held in even higher regard than before - especially by the upper class citizens - as many of them either had relatives that survived the incident at the House of the Immortal Son or actually survived it themselves.

Bustrani's ragtag band of cultists did not fare so well. Most of them were either killed when Hrol, Mrunk, Seoni and Wrack foiled their plans or were captured and quickly put to death by the Opparan constabulary. A few dozen managed to escape, however, and skulked back to their hideout beneath a burned-out church of Sarenrae in the rotting, tumbledown camp on the south bank of the Mighty Porthmos River known as the Grandbridge Vagabond Camp. There Bustrani's lot fumed and argued about how they might seek revenge on the meddlesome Pathfinders, or how they might steal the Zyphus Stone back from the Lodge and use it to finally fulfill the will of their deity of accidents, graveyards, and tragedy.

Unfortunately for the cultists, Zyphus sent one of his servants, a ragged dead thing with skin like blood and eyes like fire called Baillaset, to deal with the cult. Baillaset appeared in the Zyphus hideout in a nimbus of blood-red smoke and declared the cultists damned for all time if they didn't fulfill one final order: to choke the hideout with dozens of traps to capture and kill all but one cultist. The final cultist would replace Fel Bustrani, rebuild the Opparan cult, and again attempt the downfall of the city by Zyphus' will. The cultists didn't wait to ask questions - they began to build.

The newest addition to the ranks of the Zyphus cultists was a fallen consul of the empire named Magistros Sevastus Hustavan. Hustavan fell so far out of favor of the empire in the aftermath of the cult's assault on the Immortal Son (and his rescue by Hrol, Mrunk, Seoni and Wrack), that he eventually enlisted in the remnants of the Zyphus cult's faithful just to survive. When Baillaset arrived and set the cultists loose on one another, Hustavan turned to the Pathfinders for help. Because Hustavan hasn't entered the hideout for a week, he doesn't know the current state of affairs. He knows only that the cultists were building traps and killing one another when he fled, and that no one has come to the surface since. The fallen consul wants to accompany the heroes down into the hideout as a guide and refused to take no for an answer. Hustavan only knows the layout of the hideout - he doesn't know anything about the traps or current whereabouts of the denizens below.

The hideout was built beneath a burnt ruin of a temple of Sarenrae. The cult expanded the catacombs beneath the temple into a home and training ground for the faithful. The first level below ground is nothing more than an abandoned catacomb. A secret door there leads down to the testing areas and living quarters on the second level, while tunnels in the second level lead further down to the worship areas on the third level.

The catacombs and living areas are cold and damp, and the walls, floors, and ceilings are all carved from the bedrock, though the living areas have doors, chipped plaster and masonry for walls, and torch sconces at regular intervals. The ceilings are 10 feet high throughout the complex.

Hustavan is meek, broken, and depressed, and he latches on Aranthor, promising great riches for him should he survive his journey through the hideout. During combat, Hustavan moves to somewhere safe and periodically calls out things like "A well-timed blow, m'lord! Not as well timed as my downfall, but good enough!" or "Ooh, sorry about that trap there! I should've known that Croaker would build something like that! Sorry m'lord!" or "Please don't let these hellspawn kill me! I was important once! I was somebody! HELP!"

The heroes had interest in Hustavan. Mrunk, Seoni and Wrack convinced him that his years of service to Taldor served only evil purposes. Hustavan was initially indifferent to the idea that he did evil for Taldor and needed convincing before he accepted the idea.

At the bottom of the stairs that lead down from the surface is a small room. Two female statues stand in the middle of the room; their arms were broken off and are missing, and their facial features were long ago scraped away.

A small amount of light reaches this place from above, casting the entire room in shadowy illumination. Three tunnels lead away from here - a wide tunnel to the north and two smaller passages to the west and east. The tunnels are pitch black.

An arrow trap was set in front of the statues. Aranthor triggered the trap.

The crypts are all relatively intact. Dozens and dozens of delicately wrapped skeletons are stacked in the alcoves throughout. The crypts are devoid of any life.

The cultists left behind a surprise - a zombie who was once the guardian of the cult's baptismal font. The zombie stood in the northeast hallway of the crypt. Once it heard the heroes, it moved down the 10-foot hallway toward the entryway, but stopped at a pit. The heroes spotted the zombie, and it wandered north and came at the heroes from another angle. It attacked Aranthor and Mrunk and mindlessly tried to bite them. It fought until destroyed.

There was also a tripped swinging axe trap in the crypts. The corpse of a human male dressed in rags hangs from an enormous axe attached to a mechanism in the ceiling. Wrack revealed that he's been dead for at least a week. At his feet lies a bloody club. There was additionally a tripped rock fall trap. A small pile of rocky rubble lay here, all of which collapsed from the ceiling above. Two sets of pale, cold feet stuck out from the debris, and a coagulated rivulet of blood oozes forth from beneath it. When the heroes dug the bodies out, it took several minutes to move the debris enough to uncover the corpses. Seoni and Wrack found a scroll of lesser restoration and a ring of climbing on one of the bodies buried under the rock fall. The pit was a tripped spiked pit trap. The pit is 10 feet deep and lined with etched and crumbling metal spikes. A single body lays at the bottom, melted into an unrecognizable mess.

A secret door was located in the south wall near the stairs that lead back up to the surface. This door is a moving stone wall. The secret door leads to a stairwell.

Intermission (Neth [November] 4707 AR-Sarenith [June] 4708 AR)

The Zyphus Stone is a terrible artifact and the heroes, as future Pathfinders, immediately knew that its acquisition would be both a boon and a terrible burden to the Society. They were unable to destroy the stone, in order to rid the world of its potent necromantic magic, so they returned it to the Pathfinder Lodge in Oppara for safekeeping. While they were attempting to destroy it though, Hrol's corpse rose as a zombie, foiling any plans they had of bringing their friend back from the dead.

The heroes extensively searched the House of the Immortal Son for Wuthers, and found his zombie corpse among the dead in the opera house. In his belt pouch was a draft of the final letter he wrote to Luna Aldred, wherein he detailed the final stages of the dig and the strange character of his companion - noted as "cleric of Irori" but clearly Bustrani. His pouch also contained a personal journal, a shorthand record of his many adventures as a Pathfinder.

Surprisingly, more than half of the theatergoers survived the zombie onslaught by gathering together and fighting off the undead menace. Because the heroes dealt with Quinn's roving band bent on stamping out resistance as well as defeating Bustrani himself, the wealthy socialites and nobility of Oppara now have several dinner parties' worth of sordid stories with which to frighten and awe their friends.

The heroes subsequently joined the Pathfinder Lodge in Oppara for training. They also had the opportunity to participate in a number of major and minor holidays in the region:

Neth 23rd. Seven Veils: Celebration of brotherhood between all civilized races, marked by interracial masquerade balls.

Second Week of Kuthona. Winter week: Traditional feast; time for courting and spending time with friends.

Kuthona 11th. Ascendance Day: Cayden's divine ascension.

Kuthona 31st. Night of the Pale: Night of morbid revelry, as people wait indoors for the ghosts of last year's dead to pass by their homes.

Abadius Full Moon. Longnight: Tradition in which the revelers defy the long winter nights by staying up all night to greet the dawn.

Calistril 2nd. Merrymead: Commemorates coming spring with the distribution of the last of the previous season's alcohol.

The late evening messengers pulled the heroes awake from their tasks and ordered them to appear before the steward Muesello by midnight. There they met a new companion, an elf called Aranthor. Muesello, ever presenting the appearance of the doddering, decrepit old man, met them behind the greasy bait and tackle shop that serves as the facade of the Oppara Lodge. Dressed only in tattered night clothes complete with a faded yellow sleeping cap, the youthful excitement in Muesello's eyes bellied his elderly appearance.

"We've found them!" he declared, the moment the heroes arrived in the Lodge. "Those pitiful bastards who murdered Pathfinder Boddrigan Wuthers in Oppara those many months ago - you know, the Zyphus-worshiping fools who tried to turn Oppara into a zombie-filled nightmare? After all this time, we finally tracked their remnants to a burned-out temple in the vagabond camp across the river from the capital. You will set out for there at once and meet a man named Sevastus Hustavan outside the burned-out temple. Once a man of great importance, he seems to have fallen on hard times - fallen so hard as to join those Zyphus fiends. But he's redeemed himself by telling us their location! Find Hustavan - it can't be hard, there's only one burned-out temple to Sarenrae in the vagabond camp - learn all you can about the cult's hideout, and then cleanse it of their presence. Cultists across Golarion must know they may not use the Society to fulfill their horrid glories - so too will they know that the Society will not stand by and watch its members murdered!"

Muesello cleared his throat then, his posture losing the sudden youthful fire and passion, his shoulders hunching once more, his face pinched and tired. "Of course, while you are there," he rasped, "do your duty as Pathfinders and seek anything they may have that the Society would need in the vaults."

So, after a hurried early morning rush to gather supplies, the heroes find themselves walking through a chilly, early morning rain storm and approach what the vagabond locals say is the location of the burned-out temple to Sarenrae.

Goodbye Hrol...? (Neth [November] 4707 AR)

While the heroes were on the main floor, they heard from nearby a voice cry out, "For Father Grim, for Fel Bustrani, consume them and multiply!"

When they investigated the voice above, they found a pack of theatergoers, backed into a room, frightened and pushing those at the front towards a Zyphus cleric and her pack of zombies. The room was tight, with the intended victims tightly packed and the zombies closing in.

When the heroes arrived, the cleric ordered the zombies to attack them instead, screaming, "Kill the usurpers, my minions, for the glory of Zyphus and the glory of Fel Bustrani!" Zyphus is an evil (but minor) god of accidental death and his followers keep to themselves, guarding forgotten graveyards and abandoned barrows.

One of the cowering opera aficionados was none other than Emperor Stavian III's consul for the Fourth District of Oppara Prefecture, Magistros Sebastus Hustavan. Hustavan is a tall, frighteningly thin man of advanced age. His short, gray hair stuck to his head as if it were bathed in cooking oil and his thick, white beard, meticulously trimmed and braided, positively glistened with wax. He wore the finery of his office, a blue silk shoulder sash over long white robes, and his fingers were encrusted with bejeweled rings. In short, Hustavan felt he had a lot to live for and begged incessantly during the battle for the heroes to save his life. He didn't get anywhere near the zombies or their insane cleric master, but he moved closer to the heroes when he could, shouting out such niceties as, "I outrank everyone in the room, your Emperor requires you to save me!" and "A glorious strike, peasant! The divine hand of Emperor Stavian has guided you here to save me!" and "For the glory of Taldor, you must free me from the bowels of Hell!"

The cleric of Zyphus used cause fear immediately to scare away Hrol, not knowing he was immune to fear. She preferred to keep the zombies between herself and the heroes and to fight with her heavy pick at close range. She used inflict light wounds to heal the zombies during the fight. A fierce and devoted loyalist, the cleric of Zyphus fought to the death.

After the heroes managed to slay the cleric and her minions, they found a holy symbol of Zyphus and a letter from Fel Bustrani to all of his followers in the cleric's belt pouch:

"Loyalists of the Grim Harvestman, our time has come!

My plan to recover the stone, blessed by our beloved Harbinger of Unexpected Tragedy Himself, has succeeded beyond my wildest hopes. The fool Pathfinder I convinced to journey here has fed the strength of our Lord by encountering an unexpected tragedy of his own. His hard work for Grim was not in vain! Come to me at once, at the appointed hour and place, and we shall lay out a bounty for mighty Zyphus that He will not soon forget. When Pharasma, hated cretin, lies slain in the bowels of Hell and out mighty Harbinger rules the afterlife, He will reward His faithful few with everlasting life and power of unspeakable might! Come to me, brothers and sisters, come to me!

Fel"

Since Hustavan managed to survive the encounter, he latched onto the heroes like a lost puppy and he spent the rest of the day equally declaring them his saviors and reminding them that he is their superior. The rest of the theatergoers rushed off into other parts of the opera house, seeking an exit - or perhaps hoping to rid themselves of Hustavan's company.

The heroes continued their exploration of the main floor. On the marble floor lay the entwined bodies of multiple combatants. The hands of noble corpses gripped daggers, makeshift clubs, and even a gem-encrusted rapier. Mixed in were the twice dead bodies of zombies, their gray skin fetid and rotting.

Deanaris Quint, loyal follower of Zyphus, led a small band of warriors in a meandering circuit of the opera house, looking for anyone brave enough to put up a fight. The heroes heard Quint's band ahead of time.

Quint and her boys had already put down a couple of resistances and sought another to slay in the name of their grim lord. The heroes found slain bodies gripping makeshift weapons and torn by the puncture wounds of a heavy pick throughout the rest of the day. The heroes and Quint's band run into each other near an open door.

Deanaris Quint drank a potion on her first round of combat. Quint and her band worked well together and focused on one target at a time. Fierce and devoted loyalists, they fought to the death. All of the cultists carried a copy of the letter found previously.

As the heroes continued exploring the main floor, they found various parts of a dozen corpses lying strewn across the floor. Blood and gore stained everything, making the floor slick and filling the room with a metallic aroma. Bodies lay askew, mouths hanging open in silent screams, faces contorted in fear.

Immediately upon finding the scene described above, the heroes saw the human zombies among the carnage before they rose and acted as the zombies struggled to stand up. All of the zombies were freshly risen members of Taldor's nobility. Another humanoid zombie was not mixed into the carnage, but instead wandered in from another area during combat. The heroes defeated the zombies and moved on.

The heroes eventually descended to the basement on the opera house. Used primarily to store larger set pieces, this musty basement was now the home to a dig project that extended into the bedrock east of the room. This room was well lit by standing lamps.

Glistening with water, the slick walls and floor of the cavern were recently carved from the thick bedrock beneath Oppara. Well lit by standing lamps, the tunnels stretched into an adjacent chamber, seemingly carved form the bedrock as well. However, the adjacent chamber was made of smooth walls, covered in strange glyphs, and also lit by the same standing lamps. At the center of that chamber stood a tall stone dais. In the middle of the dais was a huge boulder which, by all appearances, fell a great distance before crashing here. The boulder glowed with an eerie green light.

In the room was a cleric of Zyphus and his giant zombie minion. Once the cleric saw the heroes, he immediately ordered his minion to attack anyone entering the room and positioned himself on the dais next to the stone. He fought to the death to protect it.

When the cleric saw the heroes coming, he cast desecrate to strengthen the giant zombie, drank his potion of invisibility, and cast divine favor on himself. He cast cause fear on Hrol, not knowing he was immune, and then waded into combat, breaking away and drinking potions as needed. Throughout combat, he was mindful of how hurt either himself or his giant were and used the appropriate spells to heal himself or the zombie. He fought to the death, but not before his zombie killed Hrol.

Dead Men Walking (Neth [November] 4707 AR)

The heroes decided to pay off the rest of Hrol's debt to Lady Cirthana in order to be free to adventure as they please. Before Hrol moved out of the temple, he received a letter addressed to him and his adventuring companions from Luna Aldred of Olfden. who wanted to meet them in a week's time at the Sitting Duck.

The heroes spent some time researching Luna Aldred before their meeting. Luna Aldred happened to be in Olfden during the Night of the Silver Blood, and in that night she single-handedly held back one whole flank of attacking werewolves just long enough for the town to defeat the rest of the lupine army. Although Luna fell in battle, the high priest of Sarenrae returned her to life the next day. After her death and resurrection, Luna established a Pathfinder Society safehouse in Olfden. A plaque dedicated to Luna at the site of her heroic stand and unfortunate fall commemorates the event.

At the time of the meeting, the heroes were seated at the main hall of the Sitting Duck, waiting for the arrival of Olfden's Pathfinder, a tall, light-haired and fair-skinned woman named Luna Aldred. Renowned for her composure under pressure and as the Protector of Olfden, she appeared in the hall suddenly, wearing fine leather armor and holding an elaborate quarterstaff, and introduced herself before getting to the point.

"My greatest pupil, Pathfinder Bodriggan Wuthers, has gone missing. He followed a cleric contact back to Wuthers' home city of Oppara to work on a massive dig beneath the House of the Immortal Son, Oppara's famed opera house and once temple to the dead god, Aroden. That was a year ago. He sent monthly reports, hoping to see their publication in a chronicle, before all contact dried up a few months back. I'm worried something has gone wrong, and the Society has a vested interest in the artifact he was researching and seeking. I want you to travel to Oppara and find Wuthers. I'd like to know exactly what he was seeking, too, since he neglected to inform me through his monthly correspondence. He hinted only that the cleric of Irori he was working with told him the object was the world's greatest 'living' artifact - whatever that means."

The heroes accepted her mission for a reward plus their travel expenses. They spent their time in Falcon's Hollow gathering information about Irori, the god of knowledge, and Taldor, the nation whose capital Oppara is. The introspection and decadence of Taldor dooms its relationship with Andoran to a minor irritant, at best. The Taldan nobles spend their time plotting against each other, against Qadira, against Cheliax - in short, against nearly everyone on Golarion. They are in no danger of uniting to face Andoran, and until they do, the worst they can offer is a series of raids and border skirmishes, which the Andoren militia guards against with fervor and dedication. Andorens can trade in Taldor and travel freely, though of late more Andorens have been disappearing in the cities and villages of their ancient mother country. After preparing for their journey, the heroes accompanied by Seoni and Savram, escorted Luna to Olfden (4 days wagon ride south from Falcon's Hollow), where their paths split. Luna had a few more advice for them before they separated:

"I have a few tidbits of information to pass to you before you go: the House of the Immortal Son is nearly impossible to access. It took Wuthers months and countless bribes to get where he did. For you, I have a much simpler idea. Go to an opera, wait for an opportunity, and then exploit it to find Wuthers and his dig site."

"Be sure to wear something festive - the Taldan nobility are arrogant on their best days and if you arrive dressed like that," she waved her hands at them "they'll surely lose your tickets or regret to inform you that the opera house is oversold."

"Go and I will contact you in three weeks to learn what you find."

The heroes reached Oppara four days before Luna would contact them, and got to work gathering information about Bodriggan Wuthers and the House of the Immortal Son. They learned that Bodriggan Wuthers was an orphan of unknown ancestry, found 20 years ago on the doorstep of the Pathfinder Lodge of Taldor's capital, Oppara. He was raised in an orphanage, but the Taldan Pathfinders made it a point to look in on him from time to time, encouraging the boy's curiosity and pushing him towards the life of the vagabond scholar. They got what they desired. When Wuthers turned 16, he left the orphanage behind and traveled to Abalom to join the Pathfinder Society. After a few years of training and following Luna Aldred, Wuthers settled easily into his routine, travelling Avistan and Garund seeking greater glory for himself and the Society through treasure hunting. He quickly made a name for himself, battling through a host of demon-possessed apes in the Screaming Jungle at age 18 to recover the Garls Harp, an Azlanti musical instrument thought lost to time and memory. His tale of that finding saw his first of many reports appear in the Pathfinder Chronicles and his fame as a Pathfinder was sewn into the fabric of the Society. They also learn of the history and inaccessibility of the opera house.

Once a temple to Aroden, the House of the Immortal Son has, since his death, been Taldor's most opulent and expensive opera house. It is a large, windowless, cylindrical building made of polished marble and granite and surrounded by thick, finely-carved pillars. Built in the earliest traditional styles of Aroden temples, the opera house lacks windows and its roof is a complicated piece of stone statuary that replicates the complicated symbol of Aroden, a steady winged eye gazing forever toward the heavens.

Though the House of the Immortal Son has a reputation for opulence and excess, it didn't turn away the heroes when they displayed an obvious amount of money. Mrunk and Seoni dressed in courtier's outfits and jewelry, while Hrol and Wrack were equipped as their guards. Savram stayed behind at their inn.

Among the Living, the title of the Opera the heroes attend, debuted the night they visit the House of the Immortal Son. It's an epic tale of a lone Ulfen warrior named Victory who sails to the end of Golarion, crashes off the edge of the world, and finds himself in a gothic paradise where he falls in love with the undead queen of a jungle kingdom.

The interior of the House of the Immortal Son is full of expensive carpets, excessive gilding, and ridiculously large candelabras and chandeliers. The other atendees present an excess of wealth and an unparalleled level of opulence has gone into their outfits, wigs, hair styles, and jewelry.

The heroes entered from the Green Entrance, a rather plain, marbled hallway filled with simple granite pillars. The floor is split by a bright green carpet, indicating that this entrance is reserved for commoners when they are allowed to attend.

Filled with classic church pews now covered in the finest silks and cushions, the main room of the opera house is what the heroes would expect from a temple-turned-theater. An odd mixture of religious symbols (all of the deceased god Aroden) and modern theater tropes cover the walls, ceilings, and finely-carved pillars.

The wooden stage was painted black and currently decorated to look like a jungle underworld, with fake plants, vines, and a backdrop of jungle scenery. An orchestra pit separates the stage from the main opera house and a thick, red velvet curtain conceals the back of the stage.

Once the heroes settled into their seats near the far back by the doors, the opera started. It was melodramatic, over-acted, gaudy, and tasteless. As yet another twirling dancer in a brown costume festooned with bright pink, flowing silk scarves spun across the jungle set at the front of the stage, the orchestra reached a screeching crescendo that crashed the entire opera to a halt. The dancers stood quietly for a moment, breathing heavily and listening to the scattered applause across the obviously bored Taldan audience. Suddenly, a sound like a thousand gongs shook the entire building to its very foundation and the audience murmured in a mixture of delight and fear. The actors and orchestra, however, fled the stage, disappearing behind the curtains.

Hrol and Wrack took a few moments to detect evil and magic, respectively. Moments after the gong, the doors leading into the opera house crashed open and a horde of zombies flooded in, immediately attacking any nobles too shocked to run. The heroes were concerned with the zombies that came in from the nearest door, as they moved directly toward them and attacked. The zombies all fought to the death.

Once the action got started, all of the interior doors the heroes found were ajar. Signs of battle are everywhere - blood, corpses, abandoned clothing or refinery, torn wallpaper, broken mirrors, shattered chandeliers, chipped marble, etc.

Once the zombies were defeated and the nobles had fled their zombie attackers, the heroes found the opera house empty. Bodies of several dozen dead lay scattered about the room and signs of carnage stretched out of every door in every direction. Screaming, moaning, and the sounds of combat could be heard from every corner of the opera house.