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Looking around within the alcove all Seltyiel, Zadim, Corona, and Einn can see is the owb. Everything else is shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Gazing into the alcove from outside, Lady Vanessa realizes the creature is all she can see, as well.
Lady Vanessa shakes her salty boney-maker, and she chiropractors the owb again.
Heeding her friend's call for help, Corona enters the deep, dark alcove, pursuing the owb's reflection in a piece of glass. She can't see her friends.
Owb
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Einn Sparkbearer
Zadim
Night Hunter
Lady Vanessa Reisende
Seltyiel
Corona Merrion
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Night Hunter enters the alcove, bumping into Corona and Einn in the dark, inspiring friends he cannot see.
Einn shrieks a silent scream at the creature.
The owb turns its attention to the enlarged slayer, slashing with its icy claws, staggering Zadim.
Owb
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Einn Sparkbearer
Zadim
Night Hunter
Lady Vanessa Reisende
Seltyiel
Corona Merrion
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As much as I don't vant to do this, I need to get into better range.
Moving into the room, Lady Vanessa bumps into Night Hunter in the dark, then her hand finds Einn's shoulder, and she stops behind the Ulfen woman.
"Let ze fates turn against you," she mutters angrily at the Owb as she withdraws several braided strands of black cat fur from her component pouch.
On the next d20 roll the target makes, it must roll twice and take the less favorable result. For every five caster levels you have, the target must roll twice on an additional d20 roll.
A target who can speak and has at least one free hand and who is aware of the spell and its effects (such as from a Spellcraft check to identify the spell as it is cast) can negate one reroll by spending a move action to utter a brief prayer or good luck charm to appease the spirits of ill fortune.
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Unable to properly see anyone in the darkness, Corona simply tries her best to trundle towards the area she last heard Zadim and Seltyiel's voices coming from...
1=Seltyiel
2=Zadim
...and tries to find Zadim, his voice being the most recent she'd heard besides Einn's from somewhere behind her.
_______
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Lady Vanessa afflicts the resilient owb with bad luck.
Glancing into her shard, Einn's certain her coruscating ray misses the extraplanar creature.
Corona bumps into Zadim's enlarged gluteus maximus, and delivers a good touch. The slayer sighs with relief.
Seltyiel's scimitar clangs to the floor, and he casts a spell. Steadfast, he advances on the owb, ensorcelled shard of shattered mirror in one hand. The beast's reflection guides him forward, but its outline appears blurred, shifting, and wavering, but the improvised dagger sinks into the creature's alien flesh, ripping its hide and sending a massive jolt of electricity coursing through the owb.
Zadim slashes with his own shard of broken glass. The weapon strikes true, and the man known as the Shadow of Sarenrae slays the owb.
Einn Sparkbearer
Zadim
Night Hunter
Lady Vanessa Reisende
Seltyiel
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Zadim releases a heavy sigh of relief. Reaching with thick fingers into his back pocket, he pulls out and enormous stick. More Like a small tree branch, his wand is still recognizable as a Cure Light Wounds Wand. He offers it to both of his divine friends. "I hope this may be of use. Thank you for your assistance in the dark. I could not have felled the creature without you. "
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As the darkness recedes upon the death of the Owb, Lady Vanessa sashays up to Zadim. Her smile as she draws near is a blend of predatory and teasing.
"Coroona, daahling, vould you mind helping Seltyiel, vhile I handle Zadim's ... enlarged ... vand?" she asks her young friend, as she takes Zadim's wand in both hands.
"Zhere now, does zhat feel all ... better?"
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Lady Vanessa had been able to determine the magical nature and purpose of the broken mirror and its shards. Corona had identified the escaped creature as an owb, an evil outsider from the Plane of Shadow.
While you weight for the deeper darkness spell's effects to end, you move into the main chamber, a room lined in dark lacquered wood panels. A number of macabre items stand carefully positioned about the room, including a guillotine, a gold-lined iron tub with claws shaped to resemble lion’s paws, and gruesome abstract paintings depicting tortured figures donning strange, birdlike masks and engaging in acts of ritual scarification. Another wall displays a number of exquisite white lace dresses drenched with sanguine stains set upon mannequins fashioned from human skeletons. Lastly, two crystalline display cases sit upon wooden pedestals, one holding a wickedly sharp athamé with a flame-shaped blade, the other containing a simple circlet of braided silver and bronze.
More mirror-like fragments of glass are scattered across the floor, and the young woman’s body still lies in a congealed pool of blood at the center of the room.
Corona and Zadim had examined the body of the young woman. Zadim had determined the dead Pathfinder' wounds were particularly clean, almost as though her body had been frozen before being sliced apart by large claws. According to the engraving on the back of the woman's wayfinder, her name was Rasina.
As you eventually search the alcoves, you find them empty, perhaps space available for future acquisitions.
Having learned what you can from the "Vault of Erya Bastorieth," short of communing with the spirit of the dead Pathfinder, you knock on the door, leave with the dwarf Hasjald, and return to Zarta Dralneen to report your success.
The Paracountess is already at the Grand Lodge with a leather folio in hand. "I’m pleased to hear you were successful. Erya Bastorieth was a so-called weeping vampire accused of stealing her victims’ youth by bathing in their blood. The Society recovered quite a few disturbing treasures from her holdings. The mirror was a powerful artifact. An unfortunate loss.”
The Venture-Captain hold up the leather folio. "Together we are preparing to open a new chapter in the Society’s illustrious history. I have with me a formal proposal for the creation of a dark archive dedicated to the study and proper handling of any artifacts the Decemvirate deems dangerous enough to hide away. Knowing that they can trust me—and agents under my direction—to do this should seal the bargain. If you are strong enough to handle what lies in darkness, I welcome you to join me. For now, though, there are more festivities.”
As you take your leave, she winks knowingly at Lady Vanessa, hinting that greater rewards, best left unspoken, await.
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"There, all better!" Corona beams, her handiwork complete. "I hope we don't run across any more of those things though..." she adds as the group make their way back out of the vaults.
_______
"Another job well done, New Friends," Corona sighs contentedly after the group has given their report to Zarta and decides to take a break and enjoy more of the festivities. "What other sorts of jobs do you think people will have for?"
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The Preinaugural Feast begins on the afternoon of the second day of the festivities. The event takes place at a great hall in the Wise Quarter from late afternoon through the evening. The dress is semi-casual, and the feast is heavily attended, especially by many members of Absalom’s Low Council, though the High Council is not present.
In addition to casual conversation, there is much conjecture and speculation concerning who shall become Grayrain’s successor.
As you mingle with the crowd, you encounter Venture-Captain Ollysta Zadrian, who is engaged in conversation with an aristocratic Taldan man and a halfling woman.
"... I began my career as a Pathfinder hoping to spread the faith of Sarenrae throughout the world as I adventured, but I soon became disillusioned, finding the Pathfinder Society too restrictive. After retiring as an active field agent, I formed the Silver Crusade, which operates out of the Temple of the Shining Star in Absalom's Ascendant Court. Our goal is to use the Pathfinder Society's resources to do good in the world."
She sees you approach and turns in greeting. "Welcome, Pathfinders. Let me introduce Scion Lord Avid of House Arnsen, Teriarch of Diobel, lord-mayor of that city. And this lady is Bellonna Trask, an independent business owner from Diobel, who has submitted her name for consideration as the late Councilor Grayrain’s replacement."
Introductions complete, the paladin continues. "We were just discussing the political challenges of social issues, like slavery and free trade, when legal and moral imperatives seem diametrically opposed."
The halfling Bellonna Trask says, "For the past decade, I've clashed with the Barge Gang, an operation that has a monopoly ferrying goods about Diobel’s hazardous harbor." She glares at Lord Avid. "I see Absalom as equally crippled by the Flotsam Graveyard. Our political leaders dole out monopolies to their friends, while telling the people it's for our 'protection' and not to worry, the government will ensure it's 'fair.' That's a bunch of minotaur droppings!"
Venture-Captain Ollysta Zadrian smiles. "Corona Merrion, you represent all that is good about the Silver Crusade. Perhaps you can find a way to explain our position on slavery to our friends? Your companions might share their own views, as well."
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"Einn, dear, ov course. But you do have your own vand, yes? Unless you vant I should use Zadim's vand on you?"
"It's not nearly as big or potent any more, zo," she finishes with a wink.
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In spite of the dress code being "semi-casual," Lady Vanessa looks no less stunning in her outfit and jewels for the evening's gathering. She makes small talk with the various minor nobles and upper echelon merchants that she knows, before catching up to the group.
Hearing the discussion turn to politics and particularly slavery, she listens politely, then waves to catch the attention of a Low Council member she knows. "Please excuuuse me, but I simply muuust go speak to Councilman Hahn," she says as she takes the Councilman by the elbow and steers him away toward the buffet.
I know qvite vell zhat zhis group vouldn't exactly agree vith how ve see slavery in my home countries. I never discuss politics or religion in polite company. Especially since back home, talking politics can get you killed - or vorse!
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The paladin remains silent, but her eyes sparkle with respect for Zadim's fervent denouncement of the slave trade.
Scion Lord Avid responds to the slayer. "Your accent sounds Keleshite, Pathfinder. The desert nation of Qadira is renowned as a hot-blooded realm of riches, slavery, and blood feuds. Many notorious slavers are Keleshites who use nets, poison, and bolas to capture victims for sale in the Great Market in Katheer. Some of them use the port in Diobel. Why, in Absalom, the buying and selling chattel is always allowed on Misery Row, a street in the Coins neighborhood, and a thriving slave trade takes place there. True, slaves are rarely taken in Absalom itself, but they are brought in from outside the Isle of Kortos. The slaves are generally criminals or those with excessive debt."
At those last words, Olyssta Zadrian's eyes flash. You notice a flush of righteous anger colors her cheeks, but she hides it well beneath a mask of diplomacy.
Bellonna Trask says, with matter-of-fact practicality, "As long as the slave trade is legal, it will continue. I own no slaves, nor do I traffic in the flesh trade." She looks at the paladin. "I would think a paladin would respect the law, even if unable to defend the institution of slavery's morality."
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Corona scowls at the Scion Lord's words, not caring as much to hide her feelings and her companions notice that the vague expression that she normally wears is nowhere in sight. "Just because a bunch of people all over the world are taking and selling slaves doesn't make it right," she huffs. "And that's stupid too, it'd be like saying that it would've been okay if I'd really stolen Stuffing from that egg merchant because there's a city halfway around the world that's run by thieves! Stealing is taking away someone's belongings, slavery is taking away someone's freedom. What makes one more or less legal than the other?"
_______
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While the oracle's opposition to slavery is crystal clear, the reference to stuffing and eggs befuddles the dignitaries.
Ollysta Zadrian's own expression is also quizzical, until she hears an indignant clucking near Corona's feet.
"Ah, I believe Ms. Merrion is referring to her arcane familiar." The paladin leans down, her well-oiled mithral full plate glistening in the late afternoon sun. She strokes the chicken.
As she straightens up, the Venture-Captain whispers, "Well said, Corona. We have much to discuss. Later, though. I'll find you."
She smiles at all of you. "Enjoy the feast, Pathfinders. May the Dawnflower guide your way."
You've been dismissed.
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Corona provides the rest of you a little background. Over the past year, the Silver Crusade faction has enjoyed the spotlight as it led the charge against the demons of the Worldwound, earning it (and by extension the Pathfinder Society) considerable prestige. In doing so, the Silver Crusade has won numerous future favors from the Society. With this glory comes an unexpected hurdle: as it scales back its combat role in the Mendevian Crusade, the faction must maintain its momentum and remain an equally powerful and relevant force of good.
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Later in the evening, Venture-Captain Ollysta Zadrian tracks you down, and she leads you to a quiet corner of the great hall where you can speak in relative private.
“While I am happy to see you here, I have come because I need someone I can trust to help me right a grievous injustice." Her serious tone and quiet moral outrage are a stark contrast to the rest of the Venture-Captains you've dealt with.
"When Queen Galfrey called for troops during the Fifth Mendevian Crusade, many who answered her call were criminals in their homelands who joined our cause in efforts to seek redemption. For their valor and sacrifice, Queen Galfrey granted them a warrior’s pardon. Despite this official declaration, a number of bounty hunters followed these criminals north. Either ignorant of the declaration or in defiance of it, they have begun capturing several of these felons-turned-war-heroes and turning them in for profit. More troubling, when they cannot claim their bounties, these hunters simply sell our heroes off as slaves." The paladin spits in anger, her beauty and martial bearing making even that crude act an exercise in graceful poise.
“I have learned that three of these champions are to be auctioned in the slave pits of Absalom tomorrow. What’s more, I am familiar with the particular villain who is hoping to buy all three—an unfitting end for these redeemed souls. Such auctions are generally closed to the public, and those bidding are required to purchase special coins in advance. Fortunately, the Society owes us many favors for our valor over the past year, and they were willing to provide me both seats at the auction and auction coins." There's no doubt in her mind, the Silver Crusade earned it.
“However, I’m too well known in Absalom, and my appearance at the auction would jeopardize the mission. Please, attend the auction, buy the freedom of these crusaders, and bring them to the Grand Lodge to give them a true fresh start.” Her request conveys the tenor of a challenge.
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Zadim pauses for a moment of self reflection. "Yes, I have heard that Sarenrae occasionally offers forgiveness. Interesting. While I agree these slaves should be freed, why are we purchasing them? Warriors such as ourselves, I would think there are... other methods. " He shifts his cloak to the side, revealing two of his three kukri.
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Ollysta answers Einn, “Midley Blackburn, a name familiar to many of the slave traders. He’s also a genius with disguises, and he seems to delight in looking a little different for every auction. I trust you’ll be able to identify him once bidding begins.”
The paladin holds up her hand to stay Zadim. "Why don’t we just raid the slave pits and deny the slavers any gold, you wonder. I do not approve of slavery, but this is not the time to overthrow the entire institution and risk the slaves’ lives. Perhaps in the future the circumstances will be different. For now, we play their game and do a little good where we can.”
“These three have troubled pasts, yes, but they have taken important steps in seeking and earning redemption for their crimes. I have no reason to doubt Queen Galfrey’s proclamation that they are heroes, and as heroes they should be spared the indignity of
slavery.”
The Venture-Captain looks each of you in the eye. "So, can I count on you?"
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Lady Vanessa spots her compatriots being led to a darkened corner by the Venture Captain, and makes her excuses to her current little clutch of admirers.
She listens to Ollysta Zadrian's mission briefing, as it were, and has one question for the paladin.
"Captain, ma'am, how are ve to identify ze lot of three slaves to be bought? Identifying marks, tattoos, names, vhat? I presume zhey von't be vearing Crusader armor and carrying veapons vhen zhey are sold."
"Oh, and vhat time tomorrow? I hope not toooo early in ze morning," she asks, looking back over at the last group of lovely young nobles eagerly awaiting the return of her attentions.
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Ollysta Zadrian answers Lady Vanessa, "The slaves are a human named Talmar, a former bandit from Isger; a half-elf named Holianda Wist, a swindler from the River Kingdoms who has since converted to Iomedae’s faith; and an elf named Elwyhir Eshikonas, a mystic exiled from the Land of the Linnorm Kings."
"Any possessions they might have had would have been taken by their captors."
"Tomorrow is a day of deliberation, when the Council will decide which person will replace Hadrel Grayrain, so you have no other obligations. Expect the auction to start about 9 o'clock and to conclude before midday."
The paladin notices Lady Vanessa's wandering gaze. Her eyes roll up to meet one arched brow. "Plenty of time to get your carnal groove on, dhampir, I'm sure. More than once, if you don't bore too quick."
Ollystra hands Corona a rolled leather coin purse containing 30 bronze coins embossed with an image of stocks and the words 'Stig’s Twenty Five.'
"Tomorrow morning, head to Misery Row, where the auction is to be held. The inscrutable individual running the auction is a large Varisian man known as Bounder Stig."
"Bounder runs a closed, buy-in auction, meaning the only people allowed to bid are those who have previously paid to signed up for the action and purchased special bidding coins. The coins are worth 25gp each. They're non-refundable (but always usable at the market). Using the coins allows bidders to avoid carrying a lot of money during auctions and ensures that the slavers are making a profit."
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"Oh! New Friends, what a wonderful chance to do something good!" Corona practically squeals, stretching out each arm and pulling Lady Vanessa and Einn into enthusiastic side-hugs. "I'm a little sad that we won't get to bust any heads but I'm sure this Midley Blackburn and all these other slavers will get a sound beating one of these days! Karma piles up over time and it'll come back to reward you - or bite you in the butt - when you least expect it!"
She tries to think of anything else that they might need to know or ask about before they depart, but has trouble coming up with anything that her companions haven't already asked about. At the last moment however, she finally hits on something. "Um, New Friend Ollystra? Where should we bring our three Friends-to-Be once we've freed them? Back to the Grand Lodge or somewhere else?"
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Before leaving, Zadim asks one final question. He puts his hands behind his back and addresses the Paladin solemnly. "To clarify. We are not supposed to kill the slavers. " He looks at her queerly. " N-ahhhhhhhhht supposed to kill them. " He's acting far odder than ever before, more than a little confused.
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"Win their freedom and bring them to the Grand Lodge." The Venture-Captain reiterates. "I've no love for slavers, either, but the Silver Crusade is not an assassins guild."
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After another evening's revelry and a night's rest at the Grand Lodge, you wake up refreshed and ready for your mission. A handful of young hotspurs, bodies covered in bite marks, stumbles half-dressed out of Lady Vanessa's bedchamber.
Misery Row is a street running along the eastern edge of the Coins district of Absalom, and it is the only street in the entire city where the slave trade is always legal.
Misery Row is elevated from street level by a massive platform running its entire length, creating a wall that separates the Coins from the Merchants' Quarter; access to the street can be gained via stairways located every few hundred feet. Although it's officially part of the Coins, no member of the district council or Token Guard visits the street for political reasons, although council members and the Captain receive a kickback from every slave sale. Most slaves are held and sold from pits sunk into the elevated wall that is Misery Row itself, giving the street its nickname: the 'Slave Pits of Absalom.'
The slave pits of Absalom get their name from the deep pits in which slaves are displayed in plain view of potential buyers. The site hosts auctions regularly, many of them operating through licensed auctioneers such as Bounder Stig.
Several other groups arrive as you enter the Slave Pits. All told, there are about 50 people representing perhaps a dozen bidding parties. Bounder crosses names off a list as they arrive.
The swarthy Varisian observes your approach and stops you in your tracks. "You lot don't have the look of regulars in Absalom’s seedy underbelly," he shouts. "Get lost. This is a a business establishment."
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Looking at Seltyiel and placing a graceful gloved hand upon his shoulder, Lady Vanessa comments icily, "Please, Selty, daahling, behave."
Stepping to the front of the group, the pale woman in noble's dress and jewels addresses the Varisian. She thickens up her high Nidalese accent so that there's no mistaking her heritage and station.
"Good man, ve're here to see Bounder Stig. I'm in need ov ... man flesh. Somezhing big and strong, and several ov zhem. My lady's maid has my purse, if you need to verify my funds," she says offhandedly gesturing to Corona. "My entourage vill accompany me, ov course."
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The Varisian draws himself up in defiance of the half-elf's veiled threat, and his beefy bodyguards edge closer.
Lady Vanessa's intervention averts a physical confrontation. A quick count of the special currency Corona hands over satisfies Bounder Stig. "Please, yer worship, have a seat."
The Varisian addresses the gathered bidders. He launches into his auctioneer's banter.
“Alright, enough of the chitchat! Anyone up fer bidding find a spot around the pits. Anyone else… shove off!"
“Today, I’m holding a quick sale auction! That means I’m doing this quick. Any of ya with complaints can stick around to thank the pesky Andorens that keep showing up and getting’ in me business."
“Each auction is one bid per slave, got it? No haggling today, and no complaints! Look at yer bid coins an you’ll know I already got yer money."
“I ain’t havin’ no arguments today neither, so don’t nobody spill blood on my block unless you paid for it."
“So here’s how it works. I put a slave up for auction and anyone interested writes down a bid. I check the offers and the slave goes off to the highest unique bid. If yer bid’s the same as anyone else’s, ya both lose. I ain’t got time to sort out no arguments. Remember, I keep all bids, so even if ya don’t win, I’m still taking yer coins, so if you can’t afford to lose ‘em, don’t place a bloody bid!"
“Lastly, the bids for all auctions start at 8 coins. I ain’t repeating that, and if there’s anyone dumb enough to offer me less than 200 gold, don’t expect me to take any more offers from ya, period. All clear?”
From about the block, the buyers grumble in agreement, after which the auction begins.
"Okay, ladies and gentleman, our first offering is the elf Elwyhir Eshikonas from the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Fool made the mistake of slandering his dragon-slaying monarchs. Don't pay his skinny arms no mind. He fancies himself a bit of a sorcerer. Please place your bids."
Bounder Stig winks down at Lady Vanessa. "Elves are long-lived, yer worship. Keep yer bed warm for centuries."
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Zadim is his normal silent self as the group walks in. Pretending to be a bodyguard is not far outside of his normal behavior. Walking in, he scopes the place out. Are these nobles, with coin to throw around, or are they barely making by? We must not underestimate their coffers.
Zadim has been to Misery Row before, on various missions for the church. He reflects on the prices on similar warriors he's seen in past auctions, trying to get a read on how much these slaves will cost.
Once the auction begins, Zadim studies Bounder, trying to determine the price he expects for the elven slave.
He whispers to his new friends during the bidding. "We must be careful with our coin. If we miss a single slave, we may have to use more...unconventional methods."
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Zadim realizes there are at least two other serious bidders for this slave. They'll bid no less than the minimum 8 coins, or they wouldn't be present.
This secret bidding method is not typical for slave auctions. Slaves with these skills are a rarity.
Bounder is scanning the crowd, counting on his fingers. If he can come up with three bids, he'll pocket at least 25 coins for the elf. Of course, he's hoping for more and higher bids. Since all bids are final and none is refunded, he'll make much more than merely selling them to the single highest bidder.
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As she takes the seat in the front row, Lady Vanessa looks at the other bidders to see if she knows any of them as fellow nobles or members of the area's upper crust of society.
Smiling up at Bounder with a (false) twinkle of a promise in her eyes, Lady Vanessa replies "Yes, zhey are long-lived, but zhey are alzo very ... fragile. And zhis vun looks a bit underfed. May ve examine him?"
Assuming that he'll allow a simple exam - for her of course - she turns to the only member of her "entourage" trained as a healer. "Zadim, daahling, vould you mind ascertaining ze health of zhis vun? I'm concerned he's not vorth very much in zhis state."