From the whispering shadows of haunted Ustalav an ancient evil rises to grip the world in a new age of horror! Amid the mists of this land of dark superstition and dread secrets stand both those who would defy the return of evil and those who would seek its terrible favor. Can the heroes discern their allies from their enemies in time to save a tortured realm from a tyrant’s return? Pathfinder's darkest and most frightening campaign ever sets the heroes against the agents of Golarion's most notorious villain, the Whispering Tyrant, in a terrifying trek across a land of lurking horror and ancient mysteries.

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Rose-Coloured Parchment
[An oblong strip of rose-coloured parchment, about half the width of the journal itself, is nestled between the well worn pages. It is covered in handwriting that is clearly different from that of the book's owner. The script is curly, and wends it's way lazily down the page. It is oddly reminiscent of Elvish script.]

Your voice,
A spark of fire in the night,
Lighting up the darkness that was my heart.
Your eyes,
Pools of vibrant color staring,
At once intrigued and wary of my unfamiliarity.
Your touch,
Smooth as stone, yet warm as the sun,
Inviting my mind to dance with a myriad of fantasies.
Your love,
A lone, beautiful mystery,
How one so undeserving as I could be granted it.



Above all else, dearest Lady, know that each time I watch your home disappear from my view, I ache. I constantly look forward to when I see it appear before me once again. I miss your smiling face, Dresden. Don't forget me.
Yours Always,
Liam


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Tags: backstory
3 Pharast, 4712
[the writing on this page is shaky, but still somewhat legible.]

Today has been a most trying day. I am currently under the influence of an awful lot of alcohol, so I'll be brief.

Pogrim's dead. I won't go into the how or why, but the simple fact that she's gone is most upsetting. I cared about that girl more than I'm willing to admit, and I knew how to save her...I just...didn't have the time. Sounds to be a lame excuse...

Cuyir was found dead in his bed. I was informed of such this morning, and I went to the temple where his body was on display in the morgue. I sat there and cried myself to sleep on it...I'm glad there was no one there to see such an embarrassing display.

Now, this is starting to become a theme. He came back. Which, I can't say I'm disappointed about, but...really? How often do people actually come back from the dead? And in the space of fourteen days I've seen two. Though, I suppose stranger things have happened in Ravengro.

Cuyir's lost any memory of us; I don't understand why. I spent quite some time with him, trying to jog his memory. Even took him to see Seth and Kyrsaku, but to no avail. Useless. I allowed him to read my journal--well, parts of it--and still, nothing!

[the writing gets shakier and less legible as it goes on.]

I took a nap, and the fox woke me from it to tell me that Seth was apprently in a lot of troubel.

The stweard of the skies was sent to tell him he's in troubl. Guess he did something prety bad because she didn't seem too happy. he gave her a lot of backtalk, too, which is my opinion was a bad idea.

Went to the tavern aftr that because it has been a strange day. I met a catfolk. That was a first, name of Argo Night-Kin. He offended Baldred...not the best way to get on my good side, but we'll see if he sticks around long enough to get to know. Guess he was looking for some deputy.

then i stumbled home. I'm going to sleep now...I'm gonna have one heck of a hangovr tomorow..

Drsden

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2 Pharast, 4712
The Piper of Illmarsh's ghost was felled today at Harrowstone. I feel like we're finally making some progress in our goals. We had some deliberation this morning on whether to go to Harrowstone, or to go after a particularly nasty demonic figure by the name of Spring Heeled Jack. We chose the prison, as it proved the more urgent of the two matters.

On leaving Harrowstone, after felling the Piper and speaking with Vesorianna, we encountered another ghost. Or rather, Seth did. He was wrapped in ephemeral chains, and we tried to free him from them. We found out later that he was having a mental wrestling match with Father Charlatan, another of the five ghosts we needed to defeat.

He as well was dispelled for a time. We aided Seth as best we could, but the bulk of the work was done by the paladin.

I was in an exceptionally good mood by the time we got back to town. I'd received a message, earlier than usual. It hasn't even been a full pass of the moon since the last time.

Dresden
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1 Pharast, 4712
This morning, I awoke in the strangest of places. I was...on the roof of the Laughing Demon tavern. I don't understand quite how I got there, the last thing I remember was standing outside of Cuyir's house in my bare feet, under the eclipse. I was playing with the amulet, and wiggling my toes in the cool wet grass...

And then the visions. All night long, they taunted me. I don't know why, or how, but I do know that I saw versions of my future. One of those visions has haunted my dreams for a little over a year now, but the other two...

In any case, once I finally came out of the blur that was my mind, we did end up going to Harrowstone. We encountered a Poltergeist, and she was quite the nasty little blighter. She whispered things to me that I shall never repeat, not even in writing. I resisted her alluring words, but I fear if I dwell too long upon them I will regret having pushed her away.

Cuyir nearly died, and it took Seth's and my own combined efforts to rescue him. I was terrified of losing another person I had allowed myself to grow somewhat close to. Luckily, I did not have to deal with that today.

[the rest of the page appears to be written in a series of strange symbols and runes. clearly this is something that the writer did not wish for simply anyone to be able to read.]
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Future Revelations Pt. 2
The prime let out a shrill scream as the positive energy obliterated him, leaving behind nothing but a golden dust.
"Well that was relatively easy" sighed Jak,
"Careful." Seth warned, "you never know when a trap's going to take your head off."
"Yeah, I got it." Jak sighed. The kid really needed to learn that he dosen't have all the answers, but that's something that can only be learned from experience.
"So, where to next boss?"
"I'm not your boss."
"Whatever, where to next?"
I closed my eyes to concentrate, detecting negative energy is easy, but differentiating them is hard. It's like putting your hand in sand and finding the three hottest grains, but replace heat with a horrible, creeping feeling.
The trek was fairly uneventful, you would be surprised how little people want to fight you in Hell Knight plate, even in Hell.
The trail led me to a crudely carved out tower made of the same purple rock that surrounded us. Jak and I entered to see a much nicer interior. The floor appeared to be black marble tile, polished to a sheen. The walls were a nice looking brick that stretched up further than the outer appeared to be. It looked well furnished, velvet chairs and chandeliers, a room fit for a noble. Out in the center of the floor was a large mirror, it captured both Jak and I in its reflection.
Jak stepped foreword toward the mirror, transfixed.
"Gods, can you see me? Can you see me!?" he stepped toward the mirror, "Look at that, I'm wearing the robes of the chief scholar! I have the staff of the Inkblood!"
All I saw was him.
This was not good, not good at all.
"Taken a liking to my mirror have you?" said an ethereal voice. Out sauntered a ghostly woman with the swagger of a noble, or a gold digger. She leaned against the mirror seductively, "It shows you hearts desire, it's innermost desire."
"Let him go!" I barked
"But he dosen't want to go." said the Prime.
"But I don't want to go." Echoed Jak.
"What about you big man? What do you want? Look deeply into my mirror and tell me what you see." she cooed.
I walked toward the mirror, gazing into it, losing myself in it.
"I....I..see....I see" I stammered. She came closer.
"Yes, yes! Tell me what you see!"
I drew my blade as quick as a whip, the blessed weapon cut into her ghostly body, severing it's head from it's body, both dropping to the floor and turning into a puddle of ectoplasm. Jak dropped to his knees and began to scramble outside to vomit. This was powerful magic, it's never a good feeling to have your own body snatched away from you. Looking back at the tower it transformed from a posh nobles bedchamber to a hollow rock tower, the only thing that remained was the mirror.
I approached it.
The thing radiated negative energy, it sneaks into your soul and displays your innermost desires. It was perverse, it was an abomination, and it still worked.
I stared into it and a stranger stared back.
He was wearing my clothes and had my same stance, but I didn't know this person. I didn't know his smooth, sun kissed skin. I didn't know his dark, raven hair. I didn't know this man.
I don't know what was more unnerving, seeing myself without my perpetually charred skin, or seeing myself smiling.
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