Two Blades drops the archer.
Thordir move up the steps, letting the others take car of the female.
Kord misses with his flail, but sab manages to cut into her.
Yellow tries to lay the touch attack again on Kord. But still fails to touch the half orc.
Round 4
Two Blades
Kord
Thordir
--------------
Round 5
Sab- 2 damage, 2 str damage
Yellow -6 damage
Two Blades
Kord
Thordir
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With the archer fallen at his feet, Two Blades sprang over the body and quickly assented the stairs as if they were not there as he ran up the railing. As he neared the remaining foe, the rogue made a move towards one side and then the other, leaving him standing on the stairs next to them "Tag team Sab!" he said.
Two blades nimbly moves about the room and flips on the other side of the female.
Kord's flail finally connects causing the female to hunch over in pain.
Thordir opens the door to Zefiro's office. Bookshelves and display cases stand in the corners of this large office. An oaken desk sits in the middle of the room with large windows set in the wall on either side of it. Doors to the south open to a raised terrace, and a large painting of Abrogail II hangs on the north wall.
Sab delivers a vital shot to the flanked female, causing her to drop to a knee, and falling face first in a pool of her own blood.
Shoved in her belt is a rolled up peace of parchment. See slide 6.
Out of Initiative.
The PC's head to the office to meet up with Thordir.
Once inside the office, it does not take long for two blades to notice the secret door behind the painting.
Several bookshelves, a desk, and a display case crowd this cramped room. To the left stands a statue of Aroden.
This hidden room behind the painting holds most of Zefiro’s secret research and illicit projects. Among other things, the PCs can find an early (and now publicly redacted) diary filled with tales of infernal war crimes committed by Thrune, an Aspis Consortium cargo manifest for a shipment from Taldor to Khari, and Zefiro’s holy Arodenite scriptures.
Conclusion
Zefiro Balinger’s arrest and imprisonment casts a dark shadow over Cheliax’s new relationship with the Pathfinder Society, especially as the PCs have brought to light new ways in which the infernal empire hoped to reshape their national narrative by falsifying its past. If Taldor ever founded a colony so deep into Rahadoum, Ibhir is not it. The PCs board a ship out of Corentyn before authorities are able to connect them to the museum incident.
Back in Absalom, Master of Swords Marcos Farabellus can barely restrain his fury at Cheliax’s duplicity and use of the Society as a cat’s paw to validate Chelish lies. He sends for Ianareth Alazario, the new liaison from Cheliax, only to find that she has slipped away from the Grand Lodge to “attend to pressing business abroad.” Farabellus assures the PCs that although Cheliax may be more powerful than their organization, the Society won’t suffer this indignity with a smile. He cryptically advises the PCs to remain in Absalom and await further word about a daring mission he has only just begun to plan—one to save the Society’s ally who has paid the greatest price for Cheliax’s villainy: Zefiro Balinger.
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Thordir's fury almost matches that of Master Farabellus. His indignation is less at the way Cheliax sought to manipulate the Society, however, and more at the wanton destruction and misrepresentation of truth. "Those devils," he fumes, "Are they such cowards that they cannot face their own past?! Yes, Master Farabellus, we will take on this mission to save Balinger, and to preserve the true history of Cheliax's past and present villainy." He clicks the haft of his glaive on the floor or the Master of Blades's office as he declares his future vengeance.
The captain’s quarters aboard the Hornet’s Nest sits in uncomfortable silence. The normally composed Zarta Dralneen awkwardly shifts in her chair, repeatedly glancing across the room at a stocky halfling with short salt-and-pepper hair and practical black clothing. Between them stands Venture-Captain Dennel Hamshanks, the ship’s captain, who seems relieved to have other visitors.
“Welcome, agents,” Hamshanks announces. “My other guests have already skipped the social niceties, so I don’t see why we need to start now. Zefiro Balinger, a Corentyn museum curator and ally of the Society, has been abducted by agents of House Thrune on charges of ‘treasonous misinformation’—which is to say the heretical preservation of unedited Chelish histories. The Decemvirate cannot afford to lose such a valuable asset, nor can it allow these documents to be thrown onto a ‘clarity pyre,’ but Cheliax would love nothing more than to do exactly that.” Hamshanks pauses as if waiting for someone else to pick up the conversation, then clears his throat at the distracted Zarta.
Zarta snaps to attention. “Pathfinders discovered that Zefiro has been taken to Ostenso. His prison is called the Bloody Nail, a facility where political enemies disappear for interrogation and punishment. Trying to spring a captive from a high-profile prison in the heart of a major Chelish city would normally be suicide, yet that is our only remaining option.” Zarta’s expression sours slightly, and she glances at the halfling again before muttering, “Fortunately, I know someone who specializes in such suicide missions, yet curiously always seems to come back alive.”
The halfling smirks at Zarta, hopping to his feet. “Please, Zarta, the pleasure is all mine. The name’s Tamrin Credence, longtime Bellflower and master of coming back alive. The lovely paracountess laid out your situation for me. Luckily enough, liberating Chelish prisoners is a favorite hobby of mine, so it looks like we’ll be working together on this project.
“Infiltrating the Bloody Nail won’t be a picnic, but it seems my luck hasn’t deserted me yet. Turns out tomorrow is Loyalty Day, a national holiday celebrating House Thrune’s oppressive regime and those who willingly agree to be oppressed by it. Citizens are required to attend the festivities, and since Ostensons aren’t exactly known for their docility, that means lots of guards in the streets keeping order. Those extra guards have to come from somewhere, meaning we’re looking at a short-staffed prison detail stuck working a holiday.
“So here’s the plan: we march up to the Bloody Nail looking all intimidating. I’ve still got some clout with Ostenso’s guards from back when I worked for the Consortium, so I’ll convince the lead interrogator to bring some of his guards with me to deal with a Loyalty Day ‘emergency.’ Fortunately for him, I’ve brought some of my own agents—that’s you—to cover for him and his soldiers while we’re away. Knowing Chelish prison administration, he’ll agree as long as one of his lackeys can supervise you. I’ll keep the interrogator distracted long enough for you to get the lay of the land, ditch your babysitter, break in, get what we came for, and get out before anyone smells a rat. We’ll meet back at the southernmost docks of the Custodisce Break and sail for Andoran. Easy enough?”
Not really, just try to hide the fact that you are with the society. They should still fear me enough to trust you are my agents. He looks at Two Blades and Kord. and for those that may have higher moral standards, just try and stick with half truths.
Looking at Sab, It was the Aspis, but that was a past life, but that was before I learned they were funding the slave trade as rigorously as they were my Bellflower activities. The Consortium loves to have its cake and eat it too.
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"...and for those that may have higher moral standards, just try and stick with half truths.
The paladin mulls that over for a moment, "I believe in operating in 'good faith'. These people have demonstrated they have little concern for proper morale obligations. So long as I do not lie directly, I feel I can meet your request, and lose no sleep over it."
I am glad that you are so eager to assist Shifting his glance to Kord, as long as you sleep well, all that matters
Pacing back and forth, so any more questions before we set off
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"Heh. Eager as always. I'm with her," Thordir says, smiling at Sab's excitement to get underway. "Though I find it somewhat ironic that we'll be wielding half-truths in order to preserve the truth of Chelish history. I suppose that's just life as a Pathfinder." With the meeting concluded, and more sailing to do, Thordir finds a quiet spot aboard the Hornet's Nest to sit, meditate, and sharpen his blades.
Tamrin approaches Two Blades and claps him on his back I am glad you are so anxious to liberate people from the nail. If you can, I would like you to contact a Bellflower operative on the inside who is undercover. Her name is Krima, she has gotten word that she beleives they have several human sympathizers of the Bellflower trapped in the Bloody Nail. This break in may be a good chance to break them out as well. Just keep an eye open.
Before concluding the briefing, Tamrin has gifts for the PCs. He hands you a bag of equipment to help bypass the Nail’s guards: two doses of oil of taggit, two elixirs of hiding, an elixir of love, a scroll of silence, and a potion of eagle’s splendor.
After outfitting the PCs with bronze Aspis Consortium badges, Tamrin leads the PCs aboard the Queen Gale, a merchant vessel that sometimes assists the Bellflower Network in transporting both people and goods. The Queen Gale smuggles the PCs into Ostenso Harbor the next day, where Tamrin hastily leads them through Dockside’s winding streets. Dozens of guards oversee the construction of stages, the hanging of banners, and the steering of extravagantly decorated floats in preparation for the upcoming Loyalty Day events.
Despite the spectacle, Tamrin wastes no time bringing the PCs to a rectangular stone building capped with an octagonal pyramid. Each side of the pyramid bears the painted image of a red nail, though rain has made the paint run, so rivulets of red stain the roof and make the image appear to be bleeding.
Tamrin instructs the PCs to wait outside, then disappears into the building for nearly half an hour. He returns accompanied by a retinue of soldiers, led by a lanky interrogator with manacles at his belt. Tamrin gestures to the PCs, prompting the interrogator to size them up.
These are the agents that are to be taking the places, while you guards who actually have authority, go out into the city and help with the situation.
I suppose they will do for now, but I will not have them running a muck in the prison with out an escort. The Interrogator waves one of the guards forward. This is Gulvar, he will be in charge of you lot while you are on duty here. You are not to touch anything or go anywhere with out his permission, you understand.
With that, the interrogator and a company of guards head down the ramp towards the city. Tamrin looks over his shoulder to the group and winks.
Once the interrogator departs, Galvar visibly relaxes. Well, now that he is gone, should make it easier to relax around here a bit. I know this is probably not the highlight of your day either having to play security guard. Trust me, I would rather be enjoying the holiday instead of chaperoning you about. Some common sense things, do not try to opened locked doors or go anywhere restricted and we will get along fine.
With that he leads you in the main door. Four statues of snarling hounds stand in the corners of the Nail’s entrance hall. A red rug covers much of the floor, although stone peeks through the holes worn in the severely trodden carpet. A lone guard stands in the entrance hall. He tenses for a moment, but instantly relaxes when he sees Galvar.
Galver just nods to the guard and heads through the next set of doors that lead to the main hails that wrap around the center of the jail.
Iron bars separate the Nail’s southern hallways from the northern ones. Basic lanterns hang from the ceiling in each corner surrounding the central prison, lighting the halls.
Four guards stand watch throughout the southern hallways. They
eye the PCs curiously at first, but soon return to their conversations once the novelty fades.
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Thordir follows along at the back of the group, hist stern expression helping him to take on the role of prison guard to which he has been assigned. He takes careful note of each guard he sees, as well as any other unusual features that seem to stand out. Place like this can't rely just on guards to keep their prisoners in, he thinks, I'll bet there's some kind of hidden or magical wards too.
When Galvar leads them into the southern end of the prison and the small crowd of guards eye them up, Thordir leans over to their chaperone and mutters, "For a prison, there's not too many prisoners. Unless these are them, and their sentence is to spend their days hanging around here guarding each other."
All the prisoners are in their cells. This is just the outer hall way. The cells are in the center of the tower.
Do not worry about that young one, they are secured in their cells. We will not have you do cell checks, since you are not really guards. That job is boring, anyway, and the smell is horrid.
How about we get you all some chow, it is almost lunch time. Gulvar leads the PCs to the lounge.
This cozy chamber features wooden chairs arranged casually around two tables. Two blazing fireplaces warm the room—a western one facing in toward an open door and a southern one furnished with kitchen utensils and cook pots. Playing cards, dice, and other diversions litter the tables. A gamey smell wafts through the room.
You see four guards taking a break playing some cards around the first table, while one is hovering over the southern fire stirring a pot.
Hey, Gulvar, new recruits.
No temporary guards on loan from the Consortium while the big wig handles something in town.
These guards seem to be more talkative and the one at the fire seems cheery as he sways to his own tune while cooking.
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[ooc]Oh! You're right about the whetstone. My bad. Guess it's just fluff, then. :)[/oc]
"I'm certainly not one to turn down a good meal," Thordir says warmly, following Gulvar into the lounge. All the while, though, he keeps count of the guards and notes their positions. One in the entryway, four in the southern hall...ah...three, four, five in the lounge, then Gulvar. That makes eleven. Hmmm...suppose they wouldn't totally empty the place out for the festival. Still. Eleven guards is a lot. I hope the others have some kind of plan.
Oh...Rabbit Stew..something I just threw together. It should be ready in about 15 minutes. Oh and don't call me sir...my name is Thrick
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Tamrin, you little sneak! You gave us that oil of taggit for a reason, didn't you? A few drops of that in that pot would knock out anyone who takes a bite for a solid hour at least! Now, how to get it in the pot?
"Rabbit stew, eh? Sure smells good! Hearty meal like that could put a fella to sleep, though, don't you think? Oh well, you're the cook, I'll let you decide the menu, huh?"
Thordir looks around for some way to draw the Thrick's attention away from the pot long enough for Sab to slip the oil into the pot, assuming that she did actually understand his series of winks and nods toward the stew. After a moment, his eyes land on the chef's knife, and an idea occurs to him. "Oh no...Thrick, you're not gonna try to serve me rabbit that you cut with that knife are you?! The thing is as dull as a goblin-pup! Here, let me sharpen it for you, I've got a whet stone right here."
The check to poison the stew out right would be a sleight of hand. Or you can try and get Thrick to let you assist in cooking with a Diplomacy, Intimidate or Profession Cook check.
Kord gets a dirty look from Thrick, when he is pushed aside and adds his special ingredients. Thrick goes to comment, but thinks better looking at the half-orc's determination.
After the stew is "prepared", Thrick goes to the wall and rings a large bell three times. A few moments later, all the guards come strolling in, and then three more come from a room on the other side of the lounge. These three looking as if they have just woken up.
After a few minutes, the oil begins to take hold and the guards start to fall asleep one by one.
By the time everything is said and done, six guards remain standing.
One of the guards you remember seeing from the hall yells out What is going on here. What have you done to them. He points to Kord, What did you add to that stew?
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"I can honestly tell you that it's something that I add every single time I make stew. I literally did nothing different. Maybe they just have weak stomachs."
Turning his full attention on the man, "It sounds like you and I may have a problem, as it sounds like you are implying something. I tell you that orcs do not take kindly to having their reputation stained with lies. Orcs get violent when problems like that arise. So tell me, do we have have a problem, you and I? Perhaps, if you are man enough, you will give it a try. Or, you can run back to your post like a little girl who is too afraid to eat some stew made by an orc."
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Thordir stands and moves behind Kord, placing a hand on the half-orc's shoulder. "Guys, I'd let it go. This guy's got something of a temper. Besides, these guys are just getting some sleep. I told you guys stew was likely to put people to sleep. Can't say I'd find that worth starting a stink over, especially if the boss comes back and finds us fighting amongst ourselves rather than guarding the place, eh?"
The group of guards hesitate for a moment, then the one in front pulls a mace from his belt.
But Sab is quicker on the draw.
Round 1
Sab
Red
Two Blades
Thordir
Guards
Kord
Sab leaps up onto the table and strikes the guard with the flat of her sword, knocking him cold in one hit.
Round 1
Sab
Red
Two Blades
Thordir
Guards
Kord
Blue swing his mace at two blades.
Purple Steps up and swings at Thordir
Cyan steps up and swings at Two Blades.
Green moves up and swings at Sab
Yellow moves up and swings at Sab
Round 1
Kord
Round 2
Sab
Two Blades
Thordir
Guards
Kord