“Go,” instructed High Priest Beldin, “be a young man amongst your peers! You know too little of the world to retire to a quiet life of solitude. Wisdom does not come with age, but with the experiences that age should grant you.”

​

So here he was, hesitantly following the mandate given to him by his mentor and only trusted friend. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the good of spreading the word of Sarenrae to the uninformed. It was just that he really didn’t like people all that much. His youth was one of abuse and fear, both at the hands of his swindling father and the angry mobs that would often pursue them.

​

After an interview process, the leaders of the Pathfinders sorted everyone out as groups were formed for the coming missions to be discharged. Nalcon found the process a little bizarre and more than a little confounding. A few brief questions and suddenly you’re assigned to a small unit with the instructions of what’s expected of you? He had to wonder if there was some magic involved that aided in the process because it all seemed haphazard and arbitrary to start.

​

Glancing over his new companions, he also had to wonder what he was in store for. It was a mixed bag, so say the least.

​

The tall one looked muscular, with a few battle scars and a quiet presence about him – that seemed promising, on the surface.

 

There was another fellow who smelled of soap, herbs, and an overriding pungency. He was lanky, but handsome almost to the point of pretty, with delicate hands and no real visible weapons. Some sort of mage, Nalcon figured. I hope he’s not one of those charlatans you see pulling rabbits out of chamber pots and flowers out of your ear, the priest wondered. He’d seen far too many of those in his youth.

 

Then there was the… what was that thing? It looked like an overgrown gecko someone had stuffed into shirt and pants. He talked too much, stood too little, and had narrow beady eyes that looked better suited for one of those dolls you knocked off the shelf at the county faire. And he was supposed to be useful on some “important duty to the Society?” Uh, huh. Right.

​

Before Nalcon could really get to know he cohorts, a stern looking, ebony skinned man stood up and addressed the gathering. Jorsal’s serious countenance broke into a welcome smile and he quickly had everyone at ease. This would grow to excitement at the prospect of being important members to a fledgling local Pathfinder Lodge. Talk of unraveling great mysteries, discovering abandoned ruins, and expanding the Society’s knowledge base while exploring a shadowy forest had Nalcon’s blood pumping and his mind alive with dreams of bringing Sarenrae’s Light to places dark and foreboding.

​

It was off to the Ruins of Min-Khadaim! Well, once they got some basic equipment and survey items. Oh, yeah, he had the other three to go with, he had to remind himself. On the bright side, they also supplied a pack mule, so that’s one party member worth hanging around, at least.

​

Once the four of them were adequately supplied, they decided it was early enough in the day to get right to the mission. Nalcon was okay with that. Thankfully, it would be just the four of them out exploring the ruins. He was already feeling a bit claustrophobic from the press of so many people in one place.

​

The journey would be uneventful – a pleasant walk through the forest. While the great blood pines stood tall overhead, massive trees with far-reaching branches, the undergrowth beneath was minimal and the gaps between the huge trees wide enough to allow ample sunlight.

​

As for his partners in this undertaking, Nalcon was learning to appreciate them more. Valorous was the tall warrior. Soft spoken, he was focused on getting the job done. Briarwynd was the mage, apparently a sorcerer – meaning he was a natural caster and didn’t need to stuff his nose into books. The gecko was a kobold named Greep. Kobold was supposed to be some sort of lizard person, Nalcon guessed. He was brash, claimed to be great at almost everything, and strangely likeable, despite the pointy teeth and flat head that ended in a narrow nose.

​

This wasn’t going to be so bad after all, thought Nalcon. Maybe.

​

With their mission map in hand, they arrived at Min-Khadaim ready to unlock its secrets. The first point of interest was a grand archway that spanned some 100-feet tall and equally wide across. Apparently, they weren’t kidding when they told everyone that these ruins were once a prodigious kingdom of the cyclops race!

​

“Looks like there’s something up there to see!” Greep squawked, pointing at the top of the entryway. “As someone who is REALLY experienced in exploring ruins, I say we should go up and check it out!”

​

That voice. When Nalcon was young, he remembered seeing a cat that had captured a mouse but wasn’t in any particular hurry to kill it. That mouse squeaked fearfully and fiercely. Nalcon imagined that if that mouse could have spoken the common language, it would have sounded a lot like Greep.

​

Still, he had a point (and not just the one at the end of his face).

​

Unfortunately, despite a well thought out plan (using some of their climbing equipment and the proximity of the trees), no one was particularly suited to scaling either the steep walls or tall trees, and the party had to give up after a good deal of effort to try to get anywhere near the archway.

​

Not a great start.

 

Maybe they’d be best served keeping to the ground, so they four decided to examine the walls that used to guard the long-lost kingdom.

 

And, of course, Greep was “very experienced at scouting walls and searching battlements.”

​

As they scouted the perimeter, they did come across one area of interest. There was a section of the wall that was particularly damaged, and not just from the erosion of time and the breakage of earthquakes that were known to strike the area. This section of the wall was destroyed as if melted by intense heat, not crumbled as seen everywhere else.

​

“It would take incredible heat to do that to stone,” muttered Briarwynd.

​

“It was a dragon, I bet!” Greep agreed. “I have dragon blood, you know! I am an expert on dragons, of course!”

​

Nalcon had to chuckle at that thought. The priest couldn’t blame the little guy, though. After all, if he stood all of three feet tall and looked like a lizard, he’d probably want to claim to have been the descendant of mythical creatures of legend, too. Odds are, though, Greep’s family spent more time sunning on rocks and eating bugs than flying through the skies and hoarding vast treasures.

​

“Whatever it was,” Nalcon noted, “it’ll be important to the Society and we’ll have to note its location.”

​

Having settled that, they worked their way along the outer wall until they came to a mostly decrepit tower, though it showed enough remnants of its past to hint at once reaching the sky.

​

“Maybe we’ll have better luck climbing this,” said Valeros, as he looked for handholds and secure sections that might hold pitons or grappling hooks.

​

Much to everyone else’s surprise, though, Greep was suddenly acrobatically leaping from broken platform to broken platform with surprising adroitness! He really was an expert in climbing shattered towers, apparently!

​

“Oh ho!” The kobold called down. “You can see the whole place from here! And, of course, I am an expert cartographer and artist!”

​

Nalcon had to hand it to him nevertheless. He didn’t think anyone else could have so easily scaled that tower and no matter how scrawly his notes and maps were, they’d still be useful.

​

After that, the party headed into the ruins itself to see what else they might find. Two successful discoveries, at least informationally, has improved their outlook on their ability to complete the task.

​

Within Min-Khadaim, they came across an old, large, oval amphitheater, which was littered with pine needles and forest overgrowth. Nothing to be learned there. After that, they strolled down what looked to be a paved roadway, a plaza of some sort, that also had been fissured and grown over by time and nature. The statues that lined the broadway were interesting, though, as they were neither cyclops nor humanoid, but very alien in nature. With that noted, the four moved on.

​

In one portion of the roadway, a strangely barren clearing was found and its strangeness in contrast to the rest of the ruins was stark.

​

“Something’s not right here,” Briarwynd observed. Nalcon had to agree. It felt wrong.

​

“Well, I am, of course, an expert in strange clearings, having lots of experience in searching them before, you know! Let’s find out what it holds, shall we?”

​

Ignoring the kobold’s boast, Valeros strode cautiously forward. There was some sort of large, reptilian skull in the clearing’s center. As he approached, the air suddenly grew dramatically colder as the warrior’s breath would come out in great puffs of chilling breath. From the skull arose a towering, though clearly incorporeal, form of a slender, draconic spirit! Terrifying in both presence and ghostly form, Nalcon wondered if this was a test of his faith, his belief in the doctrines Sarenrae.

​

“You befoul my resting place, mortals!” A hissing feminine voice angrily howled, as if coming  through a long, dark cave. “The beat of your hearts and the warmth of your flesh offends me!” As she spoke, two skeletal forms arose from the ground, creatures of undeath that may have once been goblinoid in nature but now only served as dead guardians of the dragon that haunted this clearing.

​

Valeros acted quickly, trying to impose himself between the dangers and the less hardy members of the group. It was at this point, too, that Greep displayed his knack for insulting and intimidating… absolutely no one. It didn’t seem as though creatures well past their days in life were too impressed by the challenging chirps of the brazen kobold.

​

Briarwynd sought to bring his arcane magic and deep knowledge to the fray, summoning arcane sorceries to strike at the creatures.

​

However, above all, it Nalcon who was trained best to deal with these sorts of profane encounters.

​

With his holy symbol held forward, the priest called forth the powers of The Everlight (as Saranrae, the Goddess of the Sun was also known). Radiant powers were directed at the walking dead, surrounding them with the energies of life. Sarenrae’s divine gifts would prove to be true as the words she would demand of her followers made the two skeletons would succumb to the celestial spells.

​

The haunting dragon, though, was still lashing about and the brave Valeros struggled to resist her most savage of strikes. Again, the holy forces of Sarenrae, her guiding knowledge and strength, would prove enough to quiet the dragon’s spirit.

​

Once the dragon’s spirit was exorcised, the party would take notes and gather what they could find of the clearing as it was obviously substantial, if for no other reason than that a dragon once died here.

​

Feeling good about how well they handled what initially seemed like a potentially deadly encounter, the group moved on to examine the stepped, tall pyramid that stood at the center of the area they were exploring. And before anyone had to ask, yes, Greep was an expert and very experienced in exploring old, abandoned pyramids.

​

At the pyramid, Valeros’ superior athletic ability and Greep’s nimble form would prove extremely beneficial as the two of them could scale the massive structure, allowing them to discover its secrets. This included obvious signs that there was a collapsed entrance to its interior to be found! Aiding the two more scholarly members of the party, Greep and Valeros soon had everyone at the top seeking to uncover what might be hidden within the pyramid’s unknown interior.

​

It wouldn’t take long for the four to clear the debris and reveal a dark shaft leading to a dusty, stone floor below. Fearlessly, Valeros eased himself down and discovered that the bottom held a door to the south, clearly indicating there was more to be unearthed. Once everyone was safely lowered and Valeros satisfied that the door was safe to open, they would proceed deeper into the pyramid.

​

At the front, Valeros was a cautious man - a survivor of what Nalcon imaged was many dangerous situations, looking at the wear and tear on his face and hands. Greep, however, was bold and fearless. Striding ahead of the group, the kobold traveled through the narrow hall and descending steps they had found beyond the door as if there was never going to be anything to be concerned with.

​

Not surprisingly, this would prove to be a false belief.

​

Not far into the decent, Greep (with Valeros trying his best to be diligent in his search for dangers while not falling behind reptilian humanoid) strode right into a chamber with slimy green liquid and two rather nasty mushroom like … creatures? Whatever they were, they smelled of rotting earth, spotted with earth-tone colors, and clearly aggressive.

​

Undaunted, Valeros was prepared for the worst and strode in to protect the others from the fungal foes. With great slashing attacks, he soon had one of the fungi missing great chunks of its spongy flesh and tottering weakly. Unfortunately, there were two of them and the second rapidly shot off some pods of poisonous spores that would find their mark on the priest.

​

Nalcon had never imagined that his life would be put in danger by angry mushrooms, but here he was suddenly, feeling very queasy, slightly battered by the impact of the pod, and sensing that his condition wasn’t going to get any better if he didn’t take care of himself quick as the toxic cloud had seeped into his lungs. Reeling back and grabbing an edge of his cloak, he frantically tried to wipe the burning spores off his face and exposed neck while simultaneous coughing heavily in hopes of clearing his lungs. He started to feel a little better, but by how much? He was still a little light-headed and more than a little anxious.

​

While Nalcon struggled with the poison of the Fungus, Greep was ready for action. Taken aback momentarily by the rude appearance of the strange plant-things, he would unabashedly charge forward with great panache, striking again and again at the mushroom adversary that had viciously assaulted Nalcon. It was here that Greep showed he was much more than just talk. Again and again, he would pierce, with great precision, the fungal foe, dicing it up as neatly as a chef might do to a truffle for a dinner. The second of the two fungi stood no chance.

​

Unfortunately, the first had not quite been dispatched yet and though Briarwynd’s magic would be enough to destroy the malicious plant, it managed to strike one last blow with its toxic cloud against the brave warrior, inflicting him with a heavy dose of its poisonous spores.

​

This would prove near fatal for Valeros.

​

Though they would do all that they could to try to help him shake off the effects of the fungal affliction, the fighter could not easily dismiss the spore’s sickening effects. Eventually, with the aid of Nalcon’s healing power and knowledge of natural medicines, Valeros would recover, but there was at least one point where there was real concern that the poisonous attack might be fatal.

​

Gathering themselves, the four of them briefly debated if they should turn back. Deciding that they had come to far to quit, they agreed to forge on.

​

Beyond that sectional of slimy hall, they would eventually find a door that appeared to lead to the final destination for their efforts – a great library. It had clearly been long sealed as they opened it and were greeted with the stale, musty air of books and rotting tapestries, but within its confines could be found a vast repository of knowledge.

​

With great relief, the group felt as though their mission had truly been successful. It would take time, quite a bit of time, to unlock all the secrets and information held within the stony walls of said chamber, but they would have time for it. They could finally relax, celebrate, and eventually report back to the leaders of the Pathfinder Society that had commissioned them to this grand task.

​

But there was one last, deadly twist to this tale of triumph.

​

As the group spent the next day and a half unravelling the mysteries of Min-Khadaim and the pyramid’s forgotten library, they would come across a secret door leading to what appeared to be a small chamber.

​

What they would discover, rather vividly, was that it wasn’t a small chamber, but rather a small prison – and its occupant was alive, or rather unalive, and seeking blood.

​

“The ritual! You dare… DARE... to stop it?!?” The voice was dry, raspy, and hollow – the voice of the dead talking. Its rage burned like the fire that seemed to smolder in its eyes. “You shall burn! Burn! Like the EYE…”

​

The severity and wrath of its attack was undeniable, though the words it howled confounding. Even after the rest and healing magic of the past day, the fully healthy Valeros was soon struggling for life after a single swipe of the terrible undead’s cold claw dug deeply into his flesh.

​

Seeing this, Greep sprung to action, sliding suicidally (at least it seemed to Nalcon) between the apparition’s legs to flank the creature on the other side. With cruel intent, the kobold would slash and stab the undead’s back, but the unliving creature was one of occult magic and not so easily wounded.

​

This prompted Briarwynd to call forth his most practiced magic and summon a creature of the fey, a small gremlin known as a mitflit, in hopes the little creature could strike and weaken the terrible adversary. This would prove ineffective as well.

​

Reaching for a large greataxe that seemed to be bathed in unholy darkness, the undead enemy struck one monstruous slashing sweep with it and utterly destroyed the fey creature in one fatal blow. It then turned its attention back on Valeros with the same dreadful intent.

​

For all his training, the onslaught of the not-dead-or-living creature was more than the warrior could withstand. The bite of the axe’s cold, sharp edge sunk deeply into the warrior’s side, and with a painful cry and spill of much blood, Valeros would crumple to the ground, moaning in pain as he felt his life ebbing away.

​

“I am an expert in avenging my friends! You’ll see!” Greep’s defiance was inspiring, though would prove futile. For all his bravery, the edges of his blades were not enough to damage the undead to great effect.

​

“May the fires of the First World destroy you!” Briarwynd knew it was a desperate time, seeing his friend laying on the ground dying while another struck again and again even knowing it would probably prove to be his undoing if the terrible foe turned its attention on him. Mustering up the greatest of the powers given unto him during his pursuits of his sorcerous magics, a gout of magnificent flame erupted from his fingertips and enveloped the dire creature’s undying form.

​

“Ah ha ha ha!” The undead cackled! “The fires are mine! And time. The time is nigh!” With a horrifying swing of his unholy arm, his axe would this time strike the daring kobold, sending his form staggering with a critical wound.

​

Unlike the battle against the fungi, Nalcon knew this was the type of dire scenario that his training in the faith of Sarenrae was suited for. Gathering up the purest of his divine powers, he would call again and again for the sweep of radiant power given by the Goddess of the Sun to be channeled through him to all that lay about him. As the positive energy swept over his friends, their wounds would be soothed, even bringing Valeros back from the brink of death. Almost as importantly, though, was the effect the glow of the divine had on the undead opponent. Its undying flesh would wither and sear, its tenebrous connection to the world of the living severed. With an anguished shriek, the undead was destroyed.

​

Heaving a sigh of relief, Nalcon helped his warrior friend up and clasped his other new companies. He may not be comfortable around people or even trust them much normally, but in these three the priest found those who he believed he could rely on and call friends.

​

He fervently believed that was the greatest treasure to be found within the fading walls of Min-Khadaim.