Only the luckiest or most influential Pathfinders receive invitations to Amara Li’s annual Snapdragon Festival celebration, and wise recipients take advantage of them. The aroma of blooming orchids and flowing wine mixes with the acrid tang of recently exploded fireworks, and the sound of strangely discordant music comes from a duo of Tian women playing an unusual stringed instrument and a reed flute. The crowd mingles calmly, most guests clearly hoping to be seen more than actually paying attention to those with whom they converse, though the plum wine seems to have affected many who now move about the lodge’s grounds waving sparkling wands of fire and shooting whirring, whizzing fireworks into the sky above the koi pond.
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Astarton was worried. How he had been invited to Amara Li's party, he will never know. He had met her once, made some inane comment on how Nethys' two faced nature had its pros and cons. She had only the slightest of smiles and a reaction that was more akin to a hiccup than a snicker. The next thing he knew he was receiving an invitation to the biggest party of the year, and he really didn't deserve to be there.
And he had nothing to wear.
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It has been a long time since Talor Blackstone has had the good fortune to attend such an event, so he purchases a pound of soap (5sp, subtracted from total wealth and added to inventory) and spends the afternoon before the party doing his best to make himself look presentable. He will bring along a dagger, but make every effort to conceal it.
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Amadeo arrives well after the festivities have started:
he needed to buy some good clothes this afternoon - not that there was anything wrong with his day-to-day clothes, but he surmised that this gathering would attract the Pathfinder elite, and it would not do to be dressed in run-of-the-mill clothes.
Amadeo relishes the fact that he has been invited, although he has no idea why; so he decides to trust his good fortune and to enjoy himself.
I have been in Absalom for no longer than three weeks, and here I am. I have a good feeling about this !
Amadeo is a man in his mid-twenties, lithe and tonic, with a pleasant face, hazelnut eyes, a thin groomed mustache and a thoughtful smile, dressed (for the occasion) in well cut clothes in subdued colors : a brocade brown tunic under a black woolen overcoat with silver trim, with an assorted black large leather belt, leather pants and supple doeskin shoes.
He sports a rapier and a dagger at his left side.
Here, let's taste this... Hmmm, plum wine !
Hooo, hand-portable fireworks ! That's nice. And that costs. Is Amara Li paying for all of that ? She must be rich, by Abadar's golden navel !
Haaa, more plum wine. And what is this ? tasting... Crab meat ! How surprising !
Amadeo spends some time listening to the Tian musicians, and admiring these exotic beauties too, though he takes care to be discreet while doing so.
I didn't know one could elicit this kind of sounds from a plain instrument. Not really my taste. He looks around him Still nobody seems bothered by it, so let be suitably appreciative.
As the musicians finish a song, he claps faintly in his hands to show he enjoyed that, and smiles. Smiling is easy.
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After spending five gold pieces on a new Gokan outfit, he wondered if it was truly a good purchase or he did the shopkeeper a favor by getting rid of it for them. Needless to say, he didn't have much else, but he didn't necessarily want anyone to know. The red fabric did look like it went well with his blond hair and dark brown eyes, but time would only tell if he was to be accepted.
He had his father's sword polished and slung on his back. It was a nice exotic piece that he felt could help. It was a elven curve blade, and while the hilt had some nice billowing clouds as a motif, it wasn't particularly well made. He hoped the polish wouldn't show that as easily, so he kept it in the sheath, but wrapped it in some red ribbon that matched his new outfit. It was the only thing he had from his father other than the ears and the inability to grow a beard.
People talking but not saying anything. It was the first thing he noticed when he entered the room. But the music was wonderful. Part of the reason he had joined the Pathfinders in the first place was to experience different cultures and possibly to travel. Getting settled in one place when there were so many other places to go never made sense to him. Not that he would find someone to settle with anyway. Of all the risks there were to make in the world, losing your life for a cause you believe in is easy compared with asking the one you admire from a distance to come closer.
He continued to enjoy the music and appreciated it politely as the song finished, keeping an eye out for anyone familiar.
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"Excuse me. Wouldn't you be Astarton Columbridge ?" Amadeo says to the half-elf, before quickly extending his hand to shake his.
"I am Amadeo Noskero. I believe we met in the Great Hall of Skyreach, you were looking at the Atlas Tableaux. I'm pleased to see you again."
Amadeo pauses, as if he was remarking only now the strange attire of the half-helf.
"That's a very nice... outfit. Have you been invited here before ?"
The largest table of the Great Hall is the Atlas Tableaux, a mighty table 20 feet to a side that contains an illusory map of the Inner Sea and the lands around it.
As new information about regions is sent in by venture-captains, the illusory map is updated to match.
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"Gahhhhhh" Wuse Guy jumps up from a deep slumber. He looks around trying to figure out where in Golarion he is right now. A note flutters towards the ground from the folds of his clothing. Before it touches the much of the alley he was passed out in he catches it on his foot, bringing it up to his hand gracefully so that he might read it. He stares at it for a second confused, rubs his eyes, turns it around and tries to read it again. His jaw drops and he lets out a whoop and holler.
"Yehawww, Wohoooo Free drinks tonight! free drinks for Me!
He looks down at his dirty clothes, thinks for a moment, then shrugs. He checks the invitation to see if there is a dress code and smiles when he finds there is not. He hops and skips a bit on his way to the festival humming his favorite drinking/fighting song to himself.
Upon arriving at the festival grounds he immediately sets out to find the wine pourers and make good friends. He of course fails horribly and is asked if he has an invitation from each one. After finally getting himself caught up to the rest of the party (4 drinks at least), he finally stops thinking about booze long enough to hear the music.
Hmmm why do I feel so weird when I listen to this strange sound? What is it doing to my body?
He slowly starts grooving his way towards the largest group of dancing people grabbing 2 more wines on the way. His movements would appear clumsy to any who were watching but despite a few accidental bumps into other party goers, he does not spill a single drop of wine. He then starts dancing to the rhythm(most likely not to the beat at all)
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"Ah yes, quite right Mr. Noskero!" Astarton congratulated his colleague. "It certainly has been a while. I remember the trip well, as travel is certainly something I do enjoy. I was invited here before I came, I hope everyone was. I'm not too sure about him though." He points at the smelly dwarf dancing surprisingly well.
He sees Talor edging toward them and slightly smiles politely at him. "Do you know him Mr. Blackstone? One would think you wouldn't forget a face like that." He snaps his fingers in a burst of insight. "Mr. Guy, that is who that is. Perhaps we should rescue the other guests from his company." With that he waved at Wuse and beckoned him to come into their conversation.
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Amadeo turns to the half-elf's acquaintance.
"Hello, Mr. Blackstone. I am Amadeo Noskero. Pleased to meet you."
"It's the first time I've been invited to a party of this type. Are all people here supposed to be Pathfinders ?"
Amadeo looks at the strange "Mr. Guy" dwarf whirling to the music.
Without waiting for an answer, he indicates some white "muffins" disposed on a plate on a nearby table:
"You should try one of these, if you're in the mood for exotic food. They're called bao-dze, I've been told, and I understand they're made with rice floor and garnished with various minced meats. Quite tasty, actually !"
I wonder how rice tastes when it's not made into floor ?
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The messy dwarf is swaying to the rhythm feeling his body move in ways he's never even dreamed possible. There might even be someone dancing with him if he didn't smell so bad. He pauses for a moment contemplating what it is exactly he smells like currently and in that moment he notices a Half-Elf beckoning him over.
hmmm I wonder what he would want with me. Do I have something stuck in my beard?
The dwarf examines his two empty wine cups a sour look comes over his face as he makes his way towards the half-elf making sure to stumble over to the wine table on his way and refill his two cups.
Oh course I wash Invited didn't we ahlready go over this little man he yells to the much larger than him wine pourer. He reaches into the folds of his robe for the invitation Here shee al good now gimmie shome more wine buddy before I get bored and hurt you.
He continues his journey over to the half-elf. Right before he gets to conversation distance he seems to loose his balance and go stubling towards the group wine glasses clutched tightly in both hands. He launches into the air spinning mid jump so that he lands on his back in the middle of the group. Not a single drop of wine is spilled as he downs one of his cups in apparent celebration.
Hey, pretty man what can I do for shyou
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Amadeo looks at the sprawled dwarf, while trying to contain his laughter.
He strokes his mustache so as to hide his smile and offers his hand to the dwarf in a perfectly urbane way:
"Here Mr. Guy, if I may relieve you of one your cups..." hinting: it will be easier for you to stand up !
I've got to admit Amadeo thinks that I never saw such an entrance in my whole life ! But that smell...! Does he come from the Puddles, or what ?
The most miserly and downtrodden District of all Absalom, partly submerged by seawater.
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Astarton nods at the prone dwarf. "With the amount of drink in you I would be surprised if anyone wasn't pretty in your eyes. But as I told you last time, Mr. Guy, I am not interested in experimentation." There is a glint of humor in his eyes as he reaches down to help up the staggering dwarf.
"Come now, get up. Not only will you not be served more drinks while on the floor, but ladies won't approach a male on the floor if they are wearing dresses. I know, I've tried it."
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Amadeo has a curt sincere laugh at Astarton's quip.
"You're a man of experience, Mr. Columbridge."
He looks around him.
"It seems being a Pathfinder pays pretty well. Or is it the venture-captain business ?"
"I must say, I'm still a little unsure about... how shall I put it ?... the line of command in our fellowship. Who gets to decide what. The Decemvirate has a singular way of handling these things."
"Not that I critize, mind you !" Amadeo hastens to say.
"It's just that where I come from things are very... clear."
Darkening a bit, the talkative man sips a little plum wine.
Amadeo has some unpleasant memories relating to his place of origin, wherever that might be.
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Blackstone, as though awakened from a daze, turns his attention back to the group from a lithe, exotic beauty standing near the food tables.
Yes, of course, quite pleased to meet you Ser Noskero, and ... Ser Columbridge, is it? I of course recall the evening Ser Guy and I spent among the finest (and strongest) ales within stumbling distance of the Lodge. The Five Kingdoms Great Heavy Porter was particularly fine, as I recall ... from what I recall of that evening.
So, aside from being shining examples of the finest our order recruits, do any of you know why WE were invited to one of the best parties on the Society's calendar? Are not these things typically only for the most famed and influential of Pathfinders?
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Surprised by the invitation, Jericho brushes out the one nicer set of clothing he has and, when the time comes, fastens a simple and unadorned belt knife to his waist.
Arriving at Amara Li's estate, he presents his invitation and begins circulating through the festival. Though he does not inititate any conversations, he responds politely to any that come his way.
After a short time he finds himself watching a lovely pair of Tian musicians, and sipping a glass of plum wine.
A man of average height and build, the only remarkable things about Jericho are his completely shaven head, and his piercing blue eyes.
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Before you can react Wuse is standing up his full glass clashes into Amadeos cup making it a true toast. He sways a bit as if he going to fall down then drinks the whole of his final cup and smiles at the people that must be his friends. He speaks in a suprisingly sober tone.
oy ive also tried to see up a few dressses myself. Nothing starts a good bar fight like being inapropriate with the biggest guys girl. As to why were here....who cares free booze is flowing and we have time to ask quesions not me...not me.
In a flash hes gone and back, his cups full to the brim again.
I cant say i remember that night Talor but i certainly remember the stout. I have a cask of it with me in fact.. He reacges behind him as if to pat his pack and gets nothing but behind. oh bugger my pack. I must have left it in the alley with my pride. Good thing I dont need either to be the best drinker the pathfinders ever seen. Ill bankrupt our host if I keep up this pace
He pulls a big gulp from his fresh wine and smiles stupidly at the group hes found himself with.
As Daniel stood in front of the Amara Li's estate in the Petal district, he didn't feel very secure about himself. It was not his first time in the high society, but never before has he seen such an exotic combination of luxury and frivolousness. He has checked the polishing of his armor and boots one last time, gave the ceremonial scabbard a nudge to make it fit better, and entered the party area, only to stumble into a very drunk dwarf who was flailing his arms in the conversation, holding a wine glass in each hand.
Preparing for worst, he checked his fresh clothes but surprisingly it seemed like no wine was spilled.
"I beg your pardon, master dwarf, please excuse my clumsiness.", he said in a dry but polite tone.
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Wuse looks at the man who obviously looks like he's dressed for the occasion. Smiles and bursts out laughing. Barely between cries of laughter he manages to squeek out.
Master..HEHeHe...Master...HaHa....urrrp.He burps and it seems to calm his chuckles. I'm no mashter friend unless you've heard of my drinking prowessh and were refer erring to me as a Mashter drinker. In whish case you are entirely....entirely...entirely He looks ready to unleash another burp but instead it comes out the other end, a smile crosses his lips. Correct. The names Wuse Guy(pronounced like Bruce Lee) I don't beleive we've met and if we have I don't beleive I was at all sober because I don't remember you....and to be honest I don't think I'm ever am entirely sober. Here join me in a drink to toast our fine Host ummmm.... whash her name!!
Wuse forces one of his wines into Daniel's hand and clashes it with his other cup. Then downs the remainder in a second. You notice the grub all over him and now that you've been standing next to him for a bit the smell as well. It's not pleasant.
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Astarton smiled wryly at Amadeo, "Experienced? Not as much as I would like."
He nodded politely to Talor and answered him. Yes, Columbridge. Astarton Columbridge. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Blackstone. I have no idea why I was invited, but I imagine there are a few people who want to meet us here. As to what purpose, that I couldn't tell you, but I hope it is for an expedition. "
He notices a few others that seem to have joined their congregation, but as he hadn't been addressed or introduced yet, being patient seemed like the polite thing to do.
You're fellow party goers greet you all with mixed feelings. Wuse Guy in particular brings a few disdainful looks, though Astarton's attempts to blend in are well received.
After a while of enjoying the party, you are all summoned to visit with Amara Li in her private study. Entering, you all find her seated upon a reed mat before a low table, set with an exquisite tea set. The door shut behind you, she motions for you all to sit, then begins to speak in a hushed tone, her Tian accent gone.
“Well met, Pathfinders, and welcome to the Lantern Lodge. I hope you find the Snapdragon Festival and my hospitality worthy of your time and energy. I have not brought you here for mere pleasantries, however, and wish to ask you to partake a dangerous mission on my behalf.
“Long ago, one of my most esteemed ancestors, who was rich in power but poor in sense, gave a gift to a foreign prince, a gift that prince did not deserve and my foolish ancestor had no right to give—a ceremonial jade katana. At the time the gift was sent, its recipient was invading this island. He laid siege to Absalom from his fortress in the foothills of the Kortos Mounts. Like those who came before him, the warlord failed to take Absalom and perished in the attempt. On the very day of his defeat, his castle crumbled to dust in a violent earthquake and has been lost to the centuries ever since. My family’s heirloom
was lost with it.
“A recent report by a group of Pathfinders gives me hope that they have finally found the ruin, and I might finally recover my family’s treasure. I’m looking for an intrepid group to retrieve it for me, and I’m hoping that is you. The fame and wealth you will doubtlessly recover will bring you much honor within the Society, and if you deliver the katana to me, you will have my favor as you begin your careers as full agents of the Pathfinder Society.”
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The half elf listened to her family's indiscretion and the possibilities of a renewal of their honor with a twinge of guilt. Since he was the product of his own family's indiscretion, many of the members of his family were fine with him joining up with the Pathfinders. Either he would do well and bring them a small measure of fame and embarrassment, but more likely he would die in obscurity without them having to get their hands dirty.
Astarton took the risk of speaking first paying mind to copy the etiquette he noticed earlier during the party. "I cannot speak for my esteemed colleagues, but I couldn't conceive of refusing you in this manner, Captain. Especially after such great hospitality that they had received and the generosity of your house."
Daniel stands in embarrasment in front of the unruly dwarf, beginning to deeply regret the day he decided to accept the invitation, when a familiar voice calls out to him. He is relieved to see Jericho is here.
"I was well this morning, thank you, and I do hope to remain so." He casts a meaningful look on the dwarf.
When all five of them are ushered into the private area, Daniel almost can't contain his astonishment. "Wait, you mean this Wuse guy is a Pathfinder too? Oh Abadar, I beg you for mercy."
However once the mission is laid out before him, Daniel becomes business-like again.
"I would be honored to serve you, mistress. I will report back once the task is accomplished."
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"I am delighted to be of service, milady" Amadeo says with a grin and a flourish.
He looks at the other Pathfinders.
"For those of you who may not know, I am Amadeo Noskero. I come from Lastwall" he makes a dismissive gesture "but that's of no import there."
"What's important is that I traveled around Varisia, a mostly uncivilized land of hidden mysteries, and that I've already explored a ruin or two. I think I can be valuable to our party by finding and defusing the traps that sometimes pepper these places - as we Pathfinders are well aware."
He looks at the hostess again.
"Ho, and thank you, milady, for your delicious hospitality and your lovely party."
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Wuse Guy looks a bit pale and under the weather as we are all lead into the study. He sways back and forth. To the untrained eye he looks drunk. I mean to the trained eye he looks drunk too, just in control as well. Upon being asked to sit, he urgently accepts the invitation and sits quietly as our host, what was her name again?, explains her dilemma and the way of solving it. After she has said her part he contemplates her beauty for a moment before speaking.
How can I refushe one of such...*hiccup* such beauty? I will fashe this crumbled fortress whith my bar handsh and bring you your golden...*hiccup* no jade katana in no time. Then we can celebrate with yet another glorioush party. Does that not shound like a good idea. I jusht need to find my pack firsht.
He looks around the room as if by some magical means his pack would have made it all the way from the gutter he woke up in to here.
Amara Li seems quite pleased with Amadeo's words.
"I would recommend that you all enjoy tonight's fesitivites, as well as the fireworks display, and head out in the morning." With that you are all dismissed.
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You are barely out of the room when you are approached by Major Colson Maldris. Dressed in an Eagle Knight's ceremonial uniform, a bright blue overcoat with polished golden buttons, gold eagle epaulets and a fine, black tircorn hat. He speaks to you confidently and loudly, almost so those nearby can hear.
“Greetings, Pathfinders! I hear you’re headed out into the Cairnlands on official Society business. Best of luck outside the city walls, though you look like sturdy enough adventurers. Perhaps not Eagle Knight material, but qualified for the work of a Pathfinder.
“A word of warning, though, friends—beware the walking dead. The crumbling ruins surrounding the city are rife with them, and you’re likely to run into more than your fair share over the course of your career. Undeath and the undead are more than just a physical peril, however. Undeath is the worst kind of slavery. And it should be eradicated like all servitude, whether to aristocracy or to mental control. Being enslaved to the flesh beyond when Pharasma calls one’s soul to the Boneyard is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my greatest enemy. So while you plumb the depths of Asad’s Keep, remember your solemn duty to your fellow man—both living and dead. Any undead you encounter along the way should be freed of their earthly shell.
“If you prove your dedication to freedom, the resources of Andoran will be at your disposal in your future endeavors.”
Daniel straightens up and issues a military greeting.
"Yes, sir! Undead are a blight and I will do everything to protect my companions from them while they reduce the undead to ashes."
Having received direction's to Asad's keep from one of Amara Li's aids , you enjoy the festivities. As the party starts to wind down, those of you still standing are pulled aside by a well dressed Keleshite man, one you recognize as Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam.
“Like a fast-spoken djinn, I’ll get to the quick. I know where you are going. House Damaq of Qadira claim the ruin, but we are willing to allow you access for the price of a small deed easily accomplished during your adventure. You will be wellcompensated, I assure you, for profits are most rewarding when shared. I assume treasure-seekers like yourselves are interested in such a proposition?”
Without waiting for an answer, he continues, his eyes intent and his posture rigid.
“The ruin is Qadiran, which is why we claim it, and we are willing to defend it, but there are really only certain things left in Asad’s Keep we are interested in: trade agreements, of which we believe there to be many within the ruins. All we ask that you do is to turn over all trade agreements you find to us as soon as you return to Absalom, as we will be able to hold the signers to them even centuries after their signing.
“The satrap of Qadira—nay, the entire Padishah Empire of Kelesh—has much to offer the Pathfinder Society, and I personally have no qualms about sharing those resources with you, specifically. Shall we shake on this agreement?”
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Astarton steps forward for a moment and addresses the Trade Prince "Your proposition deserves the proper respect of a considered reply. You have us at a disadvantage because we have not previously considered the Qadiran side of the situation, so please allow me to confer with my colleagues for a moment before we give you a hopefully positive answer."
He steps away from the Trade Prince and whispers to the group. "It sounds good on the surface, but do you think any of these trade agreements are with our benefactress? That would sincerely reduce her excitement over our return."
"Helping to honor the trade agreements is a service to Abadar. You have my hand, sir."
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Wuse has long since wandered drunkenly off in the night mumbling about his bag and his bed.
Upon waking with a start in the gutter again, he straps his pack on and sets out to find his new companions. Checking the gate they must leave through to get to the ruins. He waits until midday or when his party comes.
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Amadeo walks through the gate of the city.
His garb is much simpler than the night before - a studded leather armor, leather pants and boots - and he now sports a shortbow and a quiver on his back, in addition to his rapier and dagger, still at his left side.
He has a thin leather headband too, which subtly modifies his figure, giving him a slight hoodlum-like quality.
"Hey, Wuse Guy ! How are you ? You know that you've got quite a reputation in the seediest Foreign Quarter bars ? Yeah, I checked on you this morning - one can never be too careful, don't you think ?"
After some searching in his backpack, Amadeo produces a mini-keg of beer.
"Your drinking buddies asserted that in spite of your inebriation you packed quite a punch. So, in a spirit of fellowship, I propose" Amadeo pierces the mini-keg with his dagger " a toast to friendship, loot and violence !"
The mustached scoundrel drinks from the pierced side of the mini-keg, letting some beer run on his chin, before passing it to Wuse.
"Rhaaa, that tasted good !"
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You first saw Wuse Lounging with his head on his pack. His clothes are the same he was wearing the night previous, but now they are at least a little cleaner. You detect the slight scent of salt water drowning out his ordinary stench.
I'm quite fine actually, the hangover is a good reminder of how great the wine was last night. It's good to know my reputation exists. Whether its a good or bad reputation is not something that I feel is important. I will make a name for myself in every bar I visit even if it costs me my honor, pride or life. Now about this toast. What kind of tasties have you brought?
Wuse accepts the keg greedily, raises it in your direction, and pulls a heavy tug from the hole. You see his throat bob up and down drinking deep. He passes the keg back to you luckily still plenty full.
Oh yes that is very nice. I'm surprised I didn't finish the whole thing. I guess my belly is telling me we should be friends. Well from my belly and me to you I welcome you friendship. Now where is our team so we can get to this loot and violence you were talking about?
Wuse spits into one of his calloused hands and reaches it towards you for a handshake.
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A worried looking half elf walked toward the gate, having some hastily scrawled notes stuffed into a coin pouch instead of coin. He was dressed in leather armor with sling stuck into his waistband and a few vials strapped to the other hip. The elven curve blade remained on his back, looking less out of place than it did during the party.
He had only thrown up once this morning, and that was a good sign. Normally the more trouble on the trip the more his nerves would empty his stomach on the morning of. Needless to say when he came upon a couple of his colleagues drinking alcohol this early in the morning right after he had purged his body from the last remnants of that very thing, he felt a little nauseous. He put his best face forward though, and addressed them.
"Good morning Mr. Guy, Mr. Noskero. It is good to see you. It looks like we are halfway here and the weather seems fine for travel."
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Mornin to you too pretty man. Can we cut the Mr. stuff I'm still in the prime of my youth! He cracks a wide grin and you can see a couple missing and rotten teeth. All joking aside , you look like hell. What could be the problem? It's just a little ruin, nothing I havent done completely blackout drunk before. Oh yeh, and on that note, would you like a bit o hair o' the dog?
Wuse grabs the mini-keg from his new friend and thrusts it towards Astarton.
You travel the rocky and hilly terrain, marred by milennia of warfare, to arrive at your destination.
At the end of the gully, about fifteen feet above the ground on a cliff face, is an ancient, ironbound door. Its wood is dried and cracked. Directly in front of the door is a steep slope of rubble and dust-crusted debris that, as luck would have it, provides a path—albeit a rough and difficult one— right up to the door.