~=:: Prologue ::=~
The coastal town of Sandpoint has faced a few trials and dangers of the course of its forty-two year history, but unfortunately, that is all about the change...
Unknown to the town's founders, they chose to build their community over the ruins of an ancient stronghold once used as a laboratory and prison,
A place where horrific experiments and unholy explorations into what divides man from monster took place...
These are the Catacombs of Wrath, one of several such sites used by Runelord Alaznist's apprentices during Thassilon's height, a place where arcanists explored and perfected the stolen arts of lifeshaping and fleshwarping. When the Great Empire of Thassilon fell, these catacombs went dormant, but the one buried under Sandpoint was not fated to stay that way...
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Let us though go back, back a few years of present day, around the times when six souls began to become entwined with the Town of Sandpoint and its inhabitants, some more so then others, but over the course of the years they would become friends or perhaps enemies with the townfolk and discover their own stories as time goes on. We start this simple prologue of introducing these souls around six years ago, it was at this time that a wizened old Elf found himself visiting the town on bequest of an old friend...
Sandpoint itself is that of a simple town with most buildings built of wood and stone foundations, their wood shingle rooftops unpainted for the most part. With the majority being single story structures the few noted exceptions stand out over the skyline, with the Downtown district tightly packed with houses and stores of many kinds as more and more arrivals come and call the town home. Its gentle slope gives way to the north of that of a level bluff that overlooks it and the natural harbor. Up there the buildings are seen to be relatively new and the streets more open and less crowded. With the Harbor itself being fairly deep, thirty feet for most of its expanse, and sharply rising slopes and cliffs near the shore. The languid waters of the Turandoarok River winds down from the hinterlands, skirting a wide expanse known as Devil's Platter to empty into the harbor. Occasionally seen within these waters are that of Rafts towing lumber from far upstream down to the local sawmill. But its across this harbor to the south that another bluff rises, on which the most affluent landowners have staked their claim...
With walking staff in hand, its silver inlay spiraling downwards complementing the black oak wood that is its form, the elderly elf trudges slowly up the slope towards the chapel where is contact waited. Built around seven Circular Standing Stones revered to be that of the Seven Towers of Desna’s otherworldly palace, the Chapel itself was not that of one faith, while the head Acolyte was that of a Devoted follower of Desna, five other faiths were honored within. Here followers of Desna, Abadar, Sarenrae, Shelyn, Erastil and Gozreh could come and pray and receive blessings. To the West rose that of a structure, a sight that strikes all visitors at first, which is the Ruins of the Old Light. The original height of this tower is unknown, but those who have studie the ancient architecture of the crumbling remains estimate it might have stood more then Seven Hundred Feet Tall. Today less then a quarter of that height remains...
Finally reaching the Chapel itself the elf lifted his fist to knock on the door of the Head Acolytes room when it was thrown open and he found himself being engulfed into the arms of a large human, someone we might add when last met was just a young man in his twenties...
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~=:: Father Tobyn - Head Acolyte of Sandpoint Chapel, Cleric of Desna ::=~ "Jak you old coot, when did you get to Sandpoint?!? Its been decades since I last saw you and nearly half that since I sent you a message asking if your willing to visit. I take its the reason your finally here after so many years, only just got around to it I gather? Come, come. You must be exhausted from your trip, I'll get us something drink. Tea? Water???"
The Elf is ushered into the room, simple yet lavish for a cleric, the area containing an office like setup along with two beds seperated by a heavy curtain towards the rear, one of which was made with clerical robes hanging in storage nearby while the other slightly messy and what appeared to be woman's clothing left on the bed loosely. Guided towards a comfortable chair, Father Tobyn finally releases the old elf from his embrace and turns towards the table where a pot of tea sat still hot from the sight of steam coming from its spout...
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Welcome to the Start of the Pathfinder Adventure Path, Rise of the Runelords. I felt that it was best that we got to know some history before we get deeper into the game's campaign, but I do not think we will be going too long with this Prologue. I plan to skip time and places to help the players get settled into the area with some preexisting knowledge of their new world...
NPC's will be posted with their Token and Title on their first introduction but such images will not be included at all times, mostly a side token of a smaller size as not to disrupt anything. PCs are more then welcome to PM me images they would like as their Token images if they wish, encouraged more like as it get you too involved in the swing of things...
Note that any hands on moments of me 'controlling' PCs will mostly take part in the Prologue and/or results of events that include them...
Please be noted, IF there are spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. Do not harp on them, I am not a great speller on my best of days and I write how I talk, so the ... are there from habit and speaking patters I have...
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Topic: Pathfinder - Rise of the Runelords - Game Thread/Prologue (Read 6529 times)