Dotage
You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission of utmost importance. Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits. Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency. “Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage. “Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?” Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.” As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venture captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
“The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
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Ushaka nods to Drandle Dreng and leans on a walking stick with his left hand as he pulls back his hood with his right hand, revealing an older dusky-skinned Garundi man.
Ushaka's many tatoos and pierced nose and ears quickly become visible as his hood drops.
Ushaka introduces himself
"Greetings fellow Pathfinders, and thank you Dreng. My name is Ushaka , former pirate of the shackles and shaman of Gozreh, who might you lot be?"
"Alright, since you obviously have no questions for me, be off with you now."
“Before you judge, despite my current attire, I’m still a man of taste. The parcel that I want you to retrieve is actually a special vintage of wine from the cellar of the Wounded Wisp Tavern. I’ve been sampling their finer wines in descending order of bottling. I dare not disappear from my current role in this district, but I also would appreciate some comfort items. After all, I doubt anyone would judge a supposed beggar sipping from a bottle of wine."
"Well for starters I'd have to pay a street urchin. You're just lucky I waited until daylight to ask you." Dreng chuckles. "Now go fetch me what I asked. You can tell them I sent you. They're expecting you."
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
Selmius Foster was one of the founding members of the Pathfinder Society, known to have frequented the Wisp often and occasionally taen up residence in a spare room between his travels. His celebrated exploits first appeared in Volume 1 of the Pathfinder Chronicles.
Following the death of Selmius Foster on the island of Bhopan, his assistant Adolphus made several donations to maintain one of his mentor’s favorite sites. The exact arrangement between Adolphus and the owners of the Wisp was never disclosed, but it is said that some of this gold came from the same fortune that Adolphus used to found the Pathfinder lodge in Quantium.
The Wounded Wisp is located in the Foreign Quarter district of Absalom, close to the grounds of the Grand Lodge. You have no difficulty finding the establishment with the map Dreng provided. The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from
above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern—referred to by the staff as “the wisp”— that hangs there during the evening hours. There is a long wooden hallway is the entrance to the Wounded Wisp, heading north into the building itself. The walls are covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar.
The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
Heryn Gale works the bar of the Wounded Wisp, catering directly to those sitting on stools while simultaneously preparing drinks for those at tables and coordinating the wait staff.
"I am she. You're here for Dreng's parcel? I'll take you down to the cellar to pick it up. But I gotta wait for my replacement so I can step away from the bar. In the meantime, mingle a bit. Drinks are on the house for you guys."
"Yea, of course. You're new. I've never seen you around the lodge before. Sit down, have a drink. Got any good stories to tell?"
"Hail and well met brother!" Garl replies. "Have a seat, we're trading stories of battle! Isn't that right sister?"
"That is right, brother." Shrade responds. "So do you have any stories of battle or a good brawl?" She asks Daza.
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Ushaka will go with Lynn to Janira.
"Ahhh Janira, I'm so glad to see you back on your feat. I feared the worst after that beast got it's hands on you."
Ushaka pauses for a moment...
"Of course Drandle Dreng caught wind of us before I could find some real work to do and has us picking him up some wine for his hobo costume or some such. Let me introduce my newest Pathfinder companion, Lynn... Kuro it was? I'd love to hear her stories too, let me get us a round, what will you have?"
"Oh good to see you again, Ushaka. Luckily for me, the Society provides good medical benefits. A honeyed mead sounds good right now actually. Good to meet you Lynn."
"Sounds glorious! Sounds much like our last fight with that dagger toothed tiger in the Mwangi! It's how I got this!" Garl says pointing to a scar down the side of his neck.
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"Yes, Lynn Kuro it is a pleasure to meet you Janira, it seems you and my companion have a history already. I'll take some water Ushaka I prefer the audience to have more generous hands rather than myself."
Lynn seated herself,reaching down she tore a blank page from the back of her journal. Folding the paper she lit it on fire using a candle on the table, letting it catch quite a bit while she spoke blowing ever so lightly on the smoke that rose from the parcment.
"As for a story, during my travel here to Absalom I was part of a sailor crew, at the time I hadn't the money to pay for passage so they let me work for it. Along the way we ran through a great storm, lightning crackled down to the waters that would make your bones rattle. The waters boiled from the heat as the crew scrambled to hold the vessel together. We fought against it for what seemed like hours by the end we were soaked to the bone, but as she passed I saw a great mass rise from the depths a great bubble of water rising around it. A massive fin came out of the water and rose up before slamming back down and casting a mighty wave that pushed us away from the storm. The crew spoke of it as some kind of great sea demon, some said it was a helpful spirit that helped keep us safe during the journey."
Janira's eyes widen. "That was awesome! That story was amazing. I can't believe you went through that. I'm so jealous! If you need anything let me know." She says before taking a big gulp from her drink.
Yargos Gill looks up from his overly large tome for a moment. "No, have a seat. I don't think we've been introduced. I am Yargos Gill. I assume you're an agent? A not quite green but not quite experienced one if I had to take a guess? It is good to meet you."
"Princes of Mwangi?" Garl answers with a fist smashing of his own. "What are those?"
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"The greats cats, dammit: the mighty lion, the stealthy puma. Aucturn the stranger passed through the sky many upon many times and the great cats alone were masters of the Mwangi. They were there long before the elves were young. Now civilized men slaughter them and call it sport" The druid, fully angered by the topic, sweeps the plateware before him noisily off the table.
"That is very true I imagine. Any experiences you wish to speak on? I am always interested in new lore and anything current."
"Sport?" The twins say in unison with much confusion. "No, we were on a mission in the Mwangi and one of those felines attacked us. We were just defending our fellow agents. It's why we get sent on missions, for when it gets rough."
"That sounds fair. How about you go first? Tell me about your time in the society."
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"Very well," replies the elf, taking a sip of the wine that somehow appeared in front of him. "A few months ago, I was part of a group sent to explore the ancient ruins in the far south... 'Osirion', I believe it's called in your tongue. We met there a constructed creature such as I have not seen anywhere else in the world... a pyramid-shaped thing on massive rollers, which would attempt to trample all in its path!" Kelevan pauses for a few seconds, then shakes his head wryly. "It is unfortunate that we had no alternative but to destroy it... such a device would no doubt have provided much of interest to the Society."
"That is fascinating! I very much wish I could have encountered such a thing. I say you Pathfinders find yourselves in interesting places. I mean the fact that your group insists on keeping that Blakros museum open alone is mind boggling. But I have my life thanks to them. A long time ago I was captured by a mad man who wanted to enact a ritual to raise an undead army to do his bidding. But luckily there were Pathfinder agents who came along and rescued me so I have a great respect and admiration for your group."
Moments later Heryn Gale's replacement arrives and takes over the duties. She then gathers you and takes you down to the cellar to pick up the parcel. A set of wooden stairs descends from the main floor into a tightly packed storeroom. Barrels, boxes, and crates of assorted foodstuff and drink garnishes are pushed against the walls or under the stairs. She leads you to the next room which seems to have been split in half from some natural disaster. Rather than pay to repair the damage, the proprietors of the Wounded Wisp acquired a broad wooden plank that serves as a bridge across the fissure. "The bridge has some wear and tear. We'll replace it soon but until then, watch your feet."
She finally leads you to the cellar where the wine is stored. She points out the bottle that you've been sent for and takes her leave. When one of you attempts to pull out the bottle of wine, instead of what you would expect to happen, the wine rack slides back into a short stone tunnel that leads into a hidden room!
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Lynn would take up near the back of the group for their trip into the tavern's depths taking a moment to create dancing lights in the form of four small orbs sending one to each of the members of the party to orbit slightly above their heads.
The wisps would cast off a slightly blue light compared to a torches orange. Lynn ran her hand through her hair keeping it out of her eyes.
"Hope this helps a little, wouldn't want to waste a torch."
A sturdy silver chain jutting from the ceiling ends in a glowing orb that radiates yellow light across the rectangular room. A simple desk of polished wood, stacked with documents and scattered notes, shelters a pair of wooden chests against the south wall. A series of cracks along the eastern and western walls form makeshift entrances into exposed caverns. Ushaka finds no traps but he does find a monster!
This hunched over wretched looking humanoid has long, pliable arms like tentacles capped with five wide, spiny claws.
The creature moves further into the room and tries to attack Ushaka!
It begins choking the life out of the unchained scout.