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From whichever corner of Golarion you were, be it for work, exploration or leisure, you received a discreet invitation addressed to all walks of agents of the Pathfinder Society.
Dear esteemed agent, it is with great eagerness that I seek your presence at the Heidmarch Manor, the fledging Pathfinder Lodge in the Varisian City of Magnimar. An opportunity has come up to further the standing of the Society in this City of Monuments where we barely have a foothold. Come, I seek your assistance.
- Venture Captain Sheila Heidmarch
You arrive in Magnimar at the appointed day and time. Magnimar is a large city located on the southwestern coast of Varisia where the Yondabakari River empties into the Varisian Gulf. As you arrive, from the distance, the city is dominated by the Irespan to the north, a giant remnant bridge left over from ancient Thassilon. The manor is located to the eastern part of the city and is a large and sprawling affair. When you arrive, you are quickly ushered into a large dining hall. Many Pathfinders have already arrived and more are still arriving. You find yourself seated on table with five other Pathfinders...
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A large hairy man sits at the table, fiddling with a spoon in an apparent attempt to figure out its use. Under his tall frame, the chair in which he is sitting looks like it was made for a child, and he keeps shifting about in it, trying to get comfortable. Every now and then, he looks around, wide-eyed at all the gathered Pathfinders in the room, as if he has never seen so many people in one place before.
After placing the spoon down with exaggerated care, he frowns and scratches his head, sending a fresh wave of whatever pungent odour has permeated his furs towards the people sitting next to him. "Okay, I give up! What's the point of that thing? It won't cut meat, that's for sure!" He looks up at each of the Pathfinders sitting with him, and suddenly realising that he hasn't introduced himself yet, he smiles, "I'm Uther." He gives a slight nod, then frowns down at the spoon once more, his introduction apparently complete.
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A small, dark skinned gnome with a scraggle of roughly cut blonde hair sags in his seat at the table. His arms are covered in a striking array of scarlet tattoos depicting swirling flames and a fox mid-dance. His golden eyes blink blearily at his surroundings.
He straightens, frowns, wobbles, and pitches forward to rest his head on a plate. Golden ornaments woven in with his hair clink against the plate like a chorus of chimes. To no one in particular he says "Now I know why all the stories skip the long sea voyages. For the hundredth time, damn you and your teleportation Amara Li! Leaving us in the middle of nowhere! Least you coulda- coulda done..." His impromptu rant turns into a tired mumble as he waves a wobbly fist in the air at his imagined source of torment.
Through half-lidded eyes he watches Uther with growing curiosity. When the fellow asks his question, Tellerin pulls himself up off the plate and straightens his vest. "You see..." Tellerin grins weakly "it's an eyeballer. How else do you scoop eyeballs out? With a knife? You'd ruin them that way."
"Nice to meet you-" Tellerin winces, stabilizes himself with one arm, and extends the other to shake Uther's hand "Name's Tellerin. Storyteller extraordinaire. Not sure if I'm feeling up to it right now though..."
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"Ha!" Uther bellows with laughter, "Nice try, but why would you need an eyeballer when they just pop out with a good squeeze?" He wipes his own hand on his clothes before taking Tellerin's and shaking vigorously, "You hold no love for the sea then? Or maybe it's the other way around, eh!" He laughs again, a big hearty laugh as he claps the gnome on the back, "Say, there's an old Ulfen tale called 'The Green Raider.' I can't remember how it goes, but I'm certain it was full of tricks to get over the sickness... Since you like the tellin' of tales anyway, maybe you should learn it sometime? Could give you some ideas to settle the stomach."
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William watches his new companions with a wry grin and his customary silence.
After his last adventure with the Pathfinders, a harrowing series of battles with all manner of evil, culminating with a battle in front of an interdimensional rift. He no longer questioned his Order's assigning him to help the Silver Crusade, and therefore the Pathfinders.
Yet the varied companions he was forced to endure took some getting used to.
His whole youth had been spent with taciturn sergeants or pious clerics, not the riff raff he had already been subjected to, and this room looked no less full of questionable folk, though of noble heart, he suspected. As was his want, he would reserve his words and judgement until such a time as he had a better handle on his surroundings.
Observers would note the paladin was a young man, face as stern as it was youthful. Close cut brown hair and intense brown eyes over a clean shaven face.
His coat of plates, proudly emblazoned with the symbol of Iomedae, looked brand new, unscuffed or scratched.
His greatsword, however, was well worn.
The man's aura seemed off, for one of his faith. Observers could feel the grace of his God, yet there was an oddness to him, an intensity to his gaze that bespoke impending violence. Not from him, neccessarily, but around him. A gut feeling that travelling with him would undoubtedly result in battle.
Yet on such occasions as he allowed a smile, one could see his youthful earnestness and desire to do good, if perhaps in an impatient, violent manner.
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"Nothing against the sea Uther, except that it's really dull after enough time out there." Tellerin rubs the spot on his back where the big guy struck him. "No, my problem is that the crew I was travelling with tricked me into a 'shore party' at some colorful place down at the docks. They serve some real-" Tellerin winces and rubs at his temples "-some real sewer muck, from the feel of it."
"As for The Green Raider, I've got that one up here" He lightly taps the side of his head with a finger, then squeezes his eyes shut in instant regret "if you want to hear it later. Not my favorite Ulfen story. Not enough drama. If you know any others though, I'm all ears. Always looking for tales I haven't heard before."
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A large Nagaji approaches the table and takes a seat. He wears a brown friar's robe, which shifts as he walks. Underneath can be seen a heavy suit of armor, and a large amulet of Gorum, an iron rhino, hangs from his neck.
He sets down his backpack at the table. Protruding from the backpack are all sorts of melee weapons, including, oddly enough, a gardening hoe. "This is our table, eh? " He says with a toothy grin. "I hope the grub is good. Temple was fun, but their food was spartan! I'm ready for some good stuff. "
He looks over at his hungover companion. "If you're no friend of the sea, avoid the Gloomspires. I just came from there. Waves as high as the boat, there were! Nasty place. "
At the request of hosts Canayven and Sheila Heidmarch, you have been invited to attend a private meeting at Heidmarch Manor. A large number of your fellow Pathfinders have clearly also been given a similar invitation, however the appearance of Sheila Heidmarch suggests all is about to be made clear.
She calls for your attention, and as the noise dies down she begins to speak.
”Dear friends, welcome to Magnimar and the newest Pathfinder Lodge—Heidmarch Manor. For those of you who do not yet know me, my name is Sheila Heidmarch—venture-captain of Magnimar. This lodge is also my home, which I share with my husband Canayven. While we are far from the comforts of the Grand Lodge at Absalom, we shall do our best to accommodate you with our humble Varisian hospitalities. My husband and I both spent many years in the field, so we know well what you do and appreciate that you have answered our summons. We are both extremely grateful to receive you and your support.”
“As you well know, Heidmarch Manor is a new lodge. Presently it is funded almost entirely from my own resources. Although I adore Magnimar, we have as many enemies here as friends. This being the case, I seek to court the favor of more powerful allies, specifically members of the Council of Ushers and the Office of the Lord Mayor.”
“This brings the conversation to our current situation. On one of their more recent salvage runs, the wondrous artificers of the Golemworks uncovered a strange relic while dredging stone from the bottom of Magnimar’s harbor. The relic appears to be some sort of a giant key, etched with ancient Thassilonian runes that their learned arcanists speculate may even predate the coming of the mysterious runelords. Because the key falls outside their area of expertise, the Golemworks donated the curious aritfact to the Office of the Lord Mayor. In turn, the Lord Mayor intends to auction off the key to the highest bidder in short order, to fund municipal projects. The auction will be run by the Cathedral of Abadar, gold in hand—meaning immediately after the final bid is accepted, the bidder must pay for his prize in full.”
“We want the key. However, we want it legally. Our establishment in Magnimar is relatively new and our footing tenuous. We need to secure more stable political relationships with the Lord Mayor’s office and the Council of Ushers to ensure the Society’s long term success in this city; especially since the Aspis Consortium already has such a strong foothold here. The legitimate purchase of the Runecarved Key from the local authorities would demonstrate our respect for the city’s government, which would go a long way toward improving our public image with these people.”
“That said, we can greatly increase our chances of winning the auction by persuading our competition to back out. While there are some we believe we can outbid, we are a new lodge with far fewer funds than many. Thus, we must find out who else is interested in the key, how much they can bid, and whether or not we can knock them out of the auction.”
“To assure our success, our espionage must be extensive. Therefore we have divided the task between our agents. While division stands to place field operatives in greater danger, we cannot risk revealing ourselves by working en mass. If you are discovered, we will disavow any association with you. We cannot aid you if you get arrested or fall into the clutches of the enemies of our Society. While this is unfortunate, I hope you can understand our position.”
”For now, please make yourselves at home. We have provided accommodations for each of your groups. Feel free to drop off your things and prepare yourselves. Then meet me in the manor’s theatre in five minutes.”
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After the lady is done speaking, Lumo looks around the table. " Of course. The one time the Society wants to do something legally, it requires extensive "grey area" work. "
He pulls up his rhinoceros amulet and kisses it. "Well, fortune favors the brave, eh? Sounds like a good opportunity to prove our worth to the Society. "
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"Very observant, Scaled One," remarks a blonde-haired elven woman sitting nearby with a wry smile. "Acquire this key by making a perfectly legal bid...but by all means, remove some of the competition beforehand. I really should've expected no less!"
She looks around at the rather ragtag group sitting around the table. "I suspect we will be working together, then? In that case, an introduction is in order. I am Jacinth Renata, sailor and hopeful entrepreneur. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," she continues, offering her hand for a shake. Despite her leathers and weapons, she speaks with a rather formal manner as though having had some exposure to a more cultured environment.
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Tellerin scrunches his face up in a mix of frustration and confusion. In a low voice so that the VC doesn't overhear he says "Come on, really? This is what we signed up with the society for? To discourage rich people so a rich lady can drop serious platinum on a giant key?" He rests his head back on the table "This is NOT what stories are made of. Not at all." He snorts into the plate.
To Lumo's comment, Tellerin raises his head up and gives a grin "The Society doesn't know the definition of 'legally'. I'm sure this is going to turn into a free for all well before the auction."
He winks blearily at the elf when she introduces herself "Tellerin, hung over storyteller extraordinaire! Nice to meet you."
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A short gnome who is clearly flustered comes running into the room to take his seat at the table. Breathing deeply I am so sorry to be late, I was dealing with a difficult customer at the shop and I just got here. The one time I don't need to travel since this is my home, I end up up late. Did I miss anything important? Having just about caught his breath, Nigel looks around the table [b] Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself; I am Nigel Flit III, its a pleasure to meet you all.
The gnome is wearing an perfectly spotless robe that covers his chain shirt. Besides his dagger, it is hard to tell what other skills the newcomer has.
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"Well, fortune favors the brave, eh?"
"I can drink to that!" Uther says loudly, and while he agrees that this task sounds rather shady, he believes that all's fair in trade and wares. He smiles as the newest arrival catches his breath, "Welcome, little one! You haven't missed much, but it seems we are to scare bidders off of some key or something. Ha! Say one thing about Uther Blackwater, say he is about as subtle as an ox in a chicken house." He starts laughing again, "Espionage, eh? This should be fun."
Still laughing to himself, Uther shakes Jacinth's proffered hand, "Entrepreneur? That's a fancy way of saying you buy and sell stuff, right? Well, I'm a trapper, and I've got a collection of the finest furs south of the Kodar Mountains, if you're interested in a good deal..."
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"Well Nigel, we'll be playing the role of garden variety street-toughs. Hope you've got your rusty shivs and bad Underbridge accent ready for today's mission." Tellerin scowls, though whether its at the thought of being a street tough or at his ongoing headache is unclear.
He pulls himself together long enough to shake Nigel's hand and give him a grin "Glad to have you anyway."
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William frowned intently at the VC when their task was laid out.
Bribery, extortion, theft, skullduggery. These Pathfinders do not seem an honorable or even just lot. Why does the Silver Crusade and therefore the order of Iomadae even associate with these reprobates is beyond me. Yet, orders are orders.
Sighing, the paladin speaks up. "My order and Honor prevent me from prevent me from partaking in the more morally objectionable aspects of this task. I can however offer my services for above board investigation, as my training has put me often in contact with merchants and nobility. I can certainly share any useful information they let slip."
Growling to himself, he continues, "The Silver Crusade has deemed this a task worth doing, but as a courtesy please refrain from overt lawlessness in my presense. I can only turn a blind eye so far."
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A young pageboy quickly weaves his way through the crowd to your table. His small and slight build belies his age, for when he gets closer, he realise he is already in the midst of adolescence. His normally cheeky eyes is instead wide open, taking in the sights of so many adventurers gathered in the manor.
"Please, sirs and madams. If you could follow me? I'll direct you to your accomodations to deposit your items, before guiding you to the theatre." His voice still bears the tenor pitch of a child, but hints of the baritone threatens to break through.
Once you have gathered your belongings, he quickly guides you through the labyrinthine corridors to a suite, large enough to accomodate all six of the Pathfinders. He stands as patiently as he can at the sitting area for everyone to get ready, although he is unconsciously shifting his weight from one foot to other, eagerly to move.
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Tellerin downs a large mug of water, staggers to his feet, and follows along to the group's quarters. On the way there he taps William on the thigh and suggests "I wouldn't be too worried... what was your name again?" After a handshake he continues "I'm sure we can get the information Heidmarch needs without doing anything terrible. I'm not planning to get myself in trouble just so she can buy something!"
After dropping his few adventuring belongings in the suite, Tellerin returns looking a little fresher. As he waits for the others in the group to be ready, he turns to the boy and asks "Ce a pregătit șeful tău pentru noi în teatru?"
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William smiles in greeting to the small gnome.
"Well met. My name is William, paladin in Iomedae. I find it helpful to lay down my expectations immediately when working with new folks. Leads to less misunderstandings. I am glad to find another moral soul on this task."
When the boy arrives, William simply gathers his things and follows.
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Uther follows the boy quietly gawping at the strange sights of civilisation, and bewildered by the sheer scale of the manor. After carelessly throwing his things down in the middle of a random room, he greets the paladin properly, clasping his hand firmly, "Don't worry William, if I have to shoot someone in the foot, I'll make sure you're not looking first." After a moment of silence, he suddenly bursts out laughing, "Ha! Just fooling with you, lad! I've always found that business done over a fine keg of ale, trumps anything done by underhanded means." He turns to Tellerin and adds, "None of that swill, those sailors gave you, mind. Proper stuff, nectar of the gods!"
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Nigel didn't bring much with him besides his travel robe and adventuring gear since this city is his home. He doesn't put anything in the room.
You have nothing to worry about me, William. You are the third paladin I have worked with and I haven't had problems with any yet. I try to be good. I will do my best to work with you and what your faith requires of you.
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Lumo nods to the shorter newcomer. "Nigel, eh? My friend Johnny Brom told me about you. Good to meet your acquaintance."
Lumo is strong, and believes in carrying his own weight. He keeps his belongings on him. "Keep the drinking for later, friends. We must keep a clear mind to avoid any trouble in this shady business."
He turns to the Paladin and speaks in a soft voice. "I must confess, I am not a learned man. I failed out of temple the first time. Gorum is all I know, and he is not a picky god. Must you follow the law of the land, or the law of your god?"
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"Oh, I'd much prefer to settle these matters without undue hassle for everyone involved," Jacinth remarks as they stand and follow the pageboy. "While I admit I'm not always above bending a rule or two here and there, I have no desire for truly ugly dealings. After all, I did say entrepreneur and not common thug."
Then she pauses and gives William a small pat on the shoulder. "You remind me of a friend I once had. She was a woman of faith, too. As bullheaded as she could be at times, I think she was actually the conscience of the group we traveled together in. I think you would have liked her."
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"Ce a pregătit șeful tău pentru noi în teatru?"
The boy starts visibly at being addressed in his native tongue. He quickly bows to Tellerin and replies in a hesitating voice, "Chiar nu am idee, domnule. Dar cel mai bine nu ne-am cocheta. Doamna nu-i place să fie așteptată."
The pageboy looks increasingly impatient to get going. He keeps glancing out the door.
Once everyone is ready, he bows. "If you would please follow me..." He turns and practically runs back down the corridors, very mindful that Sheila Heidmarch had given just 5 minutes to get to the living quarters and to the theatre.
Even before the venture-captain arrives, the theater in Heidmarch Manor is crammed with Pathfinders. Heidmarch enters quietly, then slips through the crowd, takes the stage, and speaks. “Tonight, the Council of Ushers is sponsoring a pre-auction gala, to be hosted at the Cathedral of Abadar. During the party, the auctioneers intend to display the Runecarved Key in order to entice potential bidders. Anyone serious about entering the auction will be required to place a deposit of ten thousand gold coins in an escrow account at the cathedral.
“We need you to attend this event, both to submit our deposit as well as to determine who else might be interested in the key. While most of those attending received invitations, the event is semi-private and open to anyone with enough money to place serious bids. While the city provided me with an invitation, my appearance would give our many enemies cause for suspicion. For this reason, I ask that all of you go in my stead, and enter as my proxies. Still, we do not want out enemies to speculate on our own intentions. For this reason you must keep a low profile and avoid seeming too eager about the key. Each of you will be given a portion of the full deposit to take to the temple to present to Proctor Imikar”
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Almost immediately, the army of servants standing discreetly at the rear of the theatre fan out amongst you. The pageboy you encountered earlier appears again in front of you and holds out a strong box containing a portion of the deposit.
Around the room, the gathered Pathfinders take their leave of theatre then disperse, all making their way to the Cathedral of Abadar by different routes and arriving at different times. Upon your arrival, you witness a steady stream of guests ascending the stairs and entering the cathedral’s main sanctuary, where the viewing is being held. Rows of temple warriors wearing white tabards stitched with the golden key of Abadar flank the main entrance. Their hands clenched tightly around their gleaming swords as they stand almost motionless, ever-vigilant stares upon their faces.
As you enter, various low-level priests invite you to partake in food and beverages while you mingle about. You head to deposit your funds first for the last thing you would want is to lose the funds and jeopardise the entire operation! One of the acolytes directs you to Proctor Jyronn Imikar, a pleasant Osirian priest who runs the temple. Imikar accepts your deposit and writes something in his ledger. While he is doing so, you peer over, spotting some of the names who had already indicated their interest in the auction.
You managed to spot the following in the ledger:
You managed to spot the following in the ledger:
You managed to spot the following in the ledger:
You managed to spot the following in the ledger:
You managed to spot the following in the ledger:
You managed to spot the following in the ledger:
Proctor Imikar closes the book ”Thank you for entering the auction. Please partake of the good food and drinks, blessed by Abadar. And mindle around. They may be competitors, but no reason not to be civil.”
As you turn away, a squat man in white robes steps upon the cathedral dais to address the room. Introducing himself as the sexton of Magnimar’s High Cathedral of Abadar, he greets his guests with a broad, welcoming smile. “Good evening, friends! I’m pleased to see so many of our distinguished and honored guests could attend. For those of you not fortunate enough to have participated in our pre-auction festivities, please feel free to take part in all the luxuries and wonders within these halls. And with my welcome, I have the pleasure unveiling the auction’s feature lot. Enjoy!”
With the utterance of the final word he pulls aside the veil, displaying a gigantic key. It stands roughly three feet tall and is made of stone etched with glowing arcane symbols. The crowd applauds and people turn back to their companions to discuss the key. The crowd is an eclectic mix of landholders, merchants, and other notable figures from all over Varisia, wide-eyed and curious to glimpse the mysterious Runecarved Key. Hired servants weave through the crowd bearing luxurious platters of fruits, sweetbreads, and oysters or trays topped with crystal goblets of heady red wine. Guests mingle slowly, socializing amicably but cautiously with longtime acquaintances, as they feel out potential competitors.
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Uther steps away from the Procter and grabs a handful of fruit from one of the passing servants and leans down to whisper to his comrades, "I sneaked a look at some of the names..." He pops some fruit in his mouth, quickly glances around the room, and continues, "I don't recognise any of 'em, but the Duchesses sound like they might have the money to be a threat, maybe the people representing Underbridge Exports too..." He stuffs the last of the fruit in his mouth, "The only other name I saw was, Falrig Sneve." He shrugs, "No idea!"
With his snack finished, he wipes his sticky fingers on his trousers and grabs a goblet of wine, "Time to mingle?" He asks with a big smile, "Maybe if we get the right people drunk enough, all our problems will be solved? I'm willing to take one for the team!" He says enthusiastically before taking a big draught of his wine.
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Nigel is living it up at this event. He is eating all the foods that he dare not even look at before this pre-auction, but it all is being offered for free. He avoids the wine though best not get tipsy on the job. When the group meets back up, Nigel has at least two sweetbreads in one hand and a exotic fruit in the other. This party is amazing. I always wanted to make it as a merchant well enough to get invited to one of these sort of things! Ohh and I haven't forgotten the mission. I know about 4 names of our competition. Sadly, it sounds like Uther and I saw the same names. Though there is also a represtitive of the Museum of Ages to keep our eyes on. I am surprised to not see any Aspis Consortium thugs on the list. Did any of you see them? After waiting for an answer, Nigel go finds a wall to be a wall flower on and watch the party.
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Tellerin huddles together with Uther, Nigel, and anyone else in the group who wants to share observations. He whispers "Other than the ones you mentioned we have a Falrig Sneve and a Dymal Rinks in the running too. I'll see if I can find them. Maybe after a bit of entertainment drops their guard they'll let slip how serious they are about this."
He steps back and takes a deep breath. It looks like the lingering headache has cleared for him, or at least he's doing a good job of hiding it. "See you back here soon."
Tellerin goes looking for Falrig and Dymal, keeping his ears open to any conversation that so much as mentions them. If just listening in doesn't prove particularly fruitful, he'll ask some oblique questions about their identities to hopefully track them down in this huge crowd. Along the way he'll also try to overhear any discussions about them to learn more about their identities and/or motives for participating.
Once he's either identified them or gotten close enough, Tellerin will stop directly trying to gather information and instead engage some nearby auction-goers in a story in hopes of attracting the attention of either Falrig or Dymal indirectly. "Hello ladies, gents. Wonderful evening. Would you be interested in hearing a tale I recently overheard? It very dearly reminds me of this key they dredged up."
"The sad but true tale of the oft-forgotten Thassilonian Runelord of Despair, master of despondency and poor self esteem. A tragic story indeed, and one that we in our society today would do well to learn from." Tellerin jumps into a tale that at first seems to be a cautionary fable, but quickly turns into a rollicking yarn about an eeyore-like runelord who nevertheless manages to rule an empire through a combination of sheer muleheaded negativity and hilarous twists of circumstance. Throughout the performance, Tellerin will keep an eye out for Falrig and Dymal and do his best to attract and hold their attention, so that after the tale is done he has an excuse to follow up with them.
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William nods at the gnome, "Aye, thr proprietor was not very circumspect with their ledger, I saw a Maiveer Sloan representing the Aspis, as well as an independent named Dymal Rinks"
When finished sharing, William looks about for a bookish man who would fit Doctor Ernst Landis' description. Perhaps he could better negotiate with a learned man over an Aspis thug.
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Lumo pulls out a piece of paper and writes some names down in a childish scrawl.
Maiveer Sloan representing the Aspis Consortium
Kresch Vaor representing Underbridge Exports
The Duchesses representing no one
Doctor Ernst Landis representing the Museum of Ages
He looks to his allies. "I saw these names. William, I'll help you find the Doctor. A museum could have a keen interest in this artifact." He follows the shiny soldier around, smiling at everyone.
Unfortunately, he keeps asking high level officials for directions instead of servants. They don't take it very well.
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"I saw much the same names as William, Lumo, and Nigel did," Jacinth murmurs softly after they've turned in their bid and reconvened in a nearby corner. "Doctor Landis, a Dymal Rinks, and, of course, Sheila Heidmarch. I do believe that splitting up now to cover more ground is in order," she agrees as some of the group state their intentions to try and scope out this or that bidder. Thinking over the names that they've uncovered, she comes to a decision. "I believe I will try and seek out The Duchesses and see what I can learn."
With that, the tall elven woman turns and slips into the crowd, her eyes and ears open for what she expects would be two women of noble bearing...
...but quickly finds herself overwhelmed by the sheer number of possibilities.
This room is full of nobles and would-be nobility! I suppose I must broaden my search a bit...
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Uther, rather enthusiastically, starts circulating among the crowded room, replacing his rapidly emptying cups of wines with fresh one. While he mingles, however, he keeps his eyes open for whoever might be feigning disinterest over the runecarved key. Sure enough, he spots one. A gaunt, fashionably dressed Chelaxian handshakes his way through the room, accompanied by a half-dozen followers who appear to be equal parts attendant and bodyguard. He seems totally absorbed with interacting with the guests, barely paying any attention to the artifact in the room. But the keen Uther spots him often positioning himself in a way to examine the room, not at the key, but at whoever is paying attention to the key.
Nigel, the small figure that he is, easily keeps himself close to the wall, keeping out of sight but hearing snippets of conversations here and there as crowds passes him by. And sure enough, when the very same Chelaxian that Uther is eyeing passes by, Nigel clearly hears him say, "... we in the Aspis Consortium would never ..."
Meanwhile, Tellerin waylays a serving wench, and after charming her with a brief but fantastical story, finds out that she had just served the man named Falrig Sneve, who readily points him out. Toward the back of the room stands a gray-haired man in his early fifties, dressed in fine silken robes and flanked by two muscular guards. The man nervously fingers a small silver coin, flipping it about in his fingers. "I briefly overhead those ladies over the gossiping about him. He's apparently an eclectic, wealthy, and extremely superstitious merchant and artifact collector from the Capital District." Once located his prey, Tellerin makes his way near the merchant and starts his tale of ancient Thassilon. Immediately, Falrig's ears perks up and he strides over, paying close attention to the tale.
William, after sharing what he spotted in the ledger, strikes up conversations with the Abadaran priests. Lumo stands nearby, attempting the join in the conversations, but perhaps the priests are unfamiliar with nagajis and without snubbing him, gently ignores him. Nonetheless, William successful steers the conversations to the city museum, and eventually, a blonde-haired priestess points him towards the curator of Magnimar’s publically funded Museum of Ages, Doctor Ernst Landis. At this time, he is near the front of the gathering, vying for a look at the key. A balding, weathered old man wearing heavy robes stitched with runes, despite his age, his face beams with a boyish grin as he gazes at the curious artifact.
Jacinth similarly mingles around, but with many aristocratic looking women around, she is not able to connect any of them with her knowledge of the local nobility here in Magnimar with the strange moniker of the Duchesses.
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Finding the member of the Aspis Consortium< Nigel decides he his going to try to get more information. If history taught us anything, they be our biggest enemies in this endeavor. When he hears "... we in the Aspis Consortium would never ..." he thins I don't know I have seen something those dirty rats wouldn't do.
Nigel, not the best at mingling, decides to try his hand at gathering information about the Aspis guy wandering around.
He wanders over to a waiter that the devil worshiper had unapologetically bumped into, knocking the food to the floor. Wow, can you believe the nerve of some of these "aristocrats". They all think they are better than everyone. Who was that guy anyway?
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Uther continues to eye the gaunt Chelaxian, but soon notices that Nigel is on the case and decides to move on. Duchesses, Doctors, Aspis agents... Who else is a threat to Heidmarch's plans. He thoughtfully takes another gulp of wine, thanking Cayden Cailean for blessing him with a steely constitution, and the alcohol needed to deal with the weirdest and most crowded party he has ever attended, Where's the singing and dancing?
Finally, he manages to find a good vantage point to scan the crowd for possible threats. He also keeps an eye out for the members of his team who look more at ease in this place, hoping that if he does find someone of interest, he can point his comrades to them straight away.
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Tellerin runs through the tale with the ease of a practiced professional. He uses a casting of his dancing lights to create a humanoid light to represent the Runelord as the fellow goes through all manner of good luck while hating everything. His tale winds down with "...And so the four Cardinal Princesses all vowed to marry him despite his insistence that he would be better left alone to wallow in his misery. To this day I am sure he continues to spurn their advances with morose patience. But such strange events are but the nature of ancient Thassilon, no?" He smiles conspiratorially at his gathered audience and gives a tiny half-bow, a gesture appropriate more for a nobleman feigning modesty than a common performer.
He'll engage with any questions afterward, but will eventually try to engage Falrig directly. "Mr. Sneve, I see you enjoyed my little fable? If you don't mind me asking, what interests a man of your stature in this 'runecarved key' we have up for sale today?"
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After he wraps up his conversation with Falrig, Tellerin will bid the man good luck and head on out to mingle some more and continue his search for Dymal. Since talking to the serving staff seemed successful last time, he'll ask if any of them have heard the name being thrown around.
Assuming he doesn't manage to track the mystery man down, Tellerin wanders further and keeps his eyes open for anyone who looks like they're interested in purchasing the key. Specifically:
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Despite Lumo's failed attempt (beyond inviting some sniggers behind his back), Jacinth is not discouraged and continues scouring the crowd, especially looking out for a couple of women hanging out together. However, the auction have attract a very large crowd, and pairs of women abound, chattering and gossiping among themselves. She racks her brain, trying to connect those she has spotted to rumours of any aristocrats referred to as the Duchesses but she fails to make any connection as yet.
Nigel strikes up conversation with one of the wait staff. Looking rather disheveled, he looks glad to be able to take a break. He quickly turns to look at who Nigel is gesticulating at. "That Chelaxian? The Maiveer Sloan, head of Magnimar’s chapter of the Aspis Consortium. Really quite a socialite. Invited to all big parties here in Magnimar, so not surprised to see him here even though he has no interest in the artifact. Quite fine dandy specimen, isn't he? Ooops, my supervisor is glaring! Not supposed to chit-chat with the guests."
After his rousing oration, which earns him a rousing applause from those gathered around him, Tellerin moves forward and strikes up a conversation with the nervously twitching merchant. In a mouse-like voice, Falrig shares, "Oh, of course I'm interested! Who wouldn't be? Such a fine piece. Magnimar is such a wonder, isn't it? The amount of relics hidden here from thousands of years ago... This Thassilonnian key would look amazing amongst the rest of my collections." At this point, however, he suddenly appears crestfallen. "I do hope this auction goes better than the last one. The last time I bought a similar piece, it was cursed." Suddenly realising what he had said, he stumbles and adds on. "Oh I shouldn't have said that! A curse spoken is a curse summoned!" He quickly pulls out what appears to be a rabbit's foot and rubs it over his mouth. Looking decidedly uncomfortable at how the conversation has gone, he seems to have noticed someone from across the room. "Ah, if you'll excuse me. Someone I must speak with." He beats a quick retreat. Tellerin bids him good luck but it is uncertain with the mousy man has heard. Tellerin then turns to start chatting up the crowd, steering the conversations towards a certain Dymal Rinks but nothing turns up for now.
Doctor Ernst jumps when William approaches from behind. He quickly turns around, his eyes blinking a number of times before he collects his thoughts. When he does, however, he greets William with a broad smile. Extending his hand in earnest, he introduces himself. "A champion of the Dawnflower! Much obliged, much obliged. I am Doctor Ernst Landis, curator of the Museum of Ages. Are you new to the city? Have you visited the museum? At the risk of sounding boastful, it is simply one of the most amazing sights you would find here in Magnimar, housing the finest collections of Thassilonian artifacts in Golarion." He quickly turns to look back at the key. "Yes, a most magnificent piece, isn't it? An item of great historical significance! My theory is that it was created by Emperor Xin to unlock a temple of seven paradises. But I must get the chance to study it!"
Meanwhile, Uther continues circulating among the guests to try to sieve out who else might be interested in the auction, versus those who are just here for the party. The small fidgety man who was talking to Tellerin earlier can be overheard, eager to own this artifact to add to his collections. While extolling the benefits of fine wine, Uther bumps into an uncomely woman with large teeth and a shrewlike nose, moving slowly through the crowd. She is dressed unbecomingly in the drab clothing of a stevedore. Hissing at Uther for stepping on her foot, she glares daggers at him before slipping away. Slight in stature with a slightly stooped posture, she behaves in a mostly standoffish manner. Uther keeps his eyes on her, and spots her slipping to the edge of the crowd, nervously waiting in line to get close to the runecarved key.
Failing to locate Dymal for now, Tellerin similarly takes a break to study the crowd. While mingling, he overhears some an interesting titbit. "The nerve of the fellow! Just a lowly paid curator, but boasting that he is sure to get his hands of the key! All that time spent in his mildewy chambers must have addled his brains..."
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William smiles at the man and clasps his hand warmly, deciding not to call out the researcher on his misidentification of Saranae the Dawnbringer, feeling The Inheritor will ignore the slight in the sake of diplomacy.
"Well met sir! I am, indeed, new to this city. Frankly I am relatively new to the world in general, outside the monasteries' walls. I have not yet had the chance to visit your museum, though I shall endevor to do so. My training in such artifacts is in how to overcome curses and defeat leftover guatdians, precious little on the history if such things. And we must always keep striving for understanding."
Chatting slightly longer with the doctor, William bids him farewell and continues about the festivities, heading back to the chatty priestess to enquire about the mysterious dutchesses.
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Lumo walks up to Jacinth. "Any luck finding the duchesses? No? Alright, let me try something. " The Nagaji's face is overcome with a curious expression. He takes off his amulet of Gorum, kisses it and whispers "Please don't rust my blade. It's just pretend. "
He tucks the amulet in his pocket, pulls out two gold coins and begins approaching random noble women. "Excuse me, ma'am. I am a very devout priest of Abadar. See? I have two coins. Because I am a money grubbing, coin counting... uh... holy priest of Abadar. His greatness. " He pauses awkwardly then spits out, "There is an issue with The Duchesses' deposit. It appears they only contributed 9,998 of the required 10,000. "
"So... do you know where they are? "
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Tellerin catches up with any party member not currently engaged and whispers "Well, Falrig seems serious about it, and has the means to do so. Superstitious fellow. He's off over there." The gnome nods his head in the direction that Falrig went off to. "I'll see if I can find some of the others."
He picks up some finger food and goes around asking if anyone has seen Kresch Vaor, along the way trying to pick up any information on what Underbridge Exports is about. The underbridge is that section of the city with all the crime, right? Is he a black market dealer?
William smiles at the man and clasps his hand warmly, deciding not to call out the researcher on his misidentification of Saranae the Dawnbringer, feeling The Inheritor will ignore the slight in the sake of diplomacy.
Doctor Ernst nods sagely as William shares on his background. "Yes, certainly you must come visit once this business with the auction is over and I'll give you a personal tour. Knowing the history of these artifacts is critical - the very often form the foundation that determine how they function." He then gives William a conspiratory wink. "And a more personal study of this runecarved key. Imagine my disappointment when the mayor decided to auction this relic instead of donating it the museum! Imagine - the loss to the public just to raise some paltry gold for the city coffers! Thankfully, I found a very generous donor so I am not going to lose this!" Shaking William's hand enthusiastically, the curator returns to studying the key, oblivious to those behind who are trying to catch a glimpse as well.
William returns back to ever so helpful priestess, who starts tossing her hair about once she spots him approaching. "The Duchesses? Hmm, ah yes, I was assisting Proctor Imikar when they donated their funds." She gestures towards two women standing to the side of the cathedral, conversing softly between themselves. Both are dressed in Varisian travelers’ clothes draped with thick cloaks. "Never seen them in Magnimar before, though. Um, what's ... what's your interest in them?"
At the same time, Lumo approaches a group of middle-aged women, dressed rather finely. They are huddled around, gossiping amongst themselves and glare at him when he interrupts. They recover quickly, however, when he introduces himself as a priest of Abadar (thankfully out of earshot of any actual Abadaran priest). They listen solemnly to him and their eyebrows shoot up. "Really, oh my, how scandalous!" She points at the two Varisian women standing to one side. "Really mysterious. No one seem to know their names! go only by the shared name Duchess, and they use when refering to one another and when introducing themselves. Definitely not from Magnimar despite their dressing. You say they short-changed the proctor? On my!" Immediately, the group of women huddle around again, excited by the fresh rumour fodder.
Tellerin and Nigel shifts their attention to uncover the identify of the elusive Kresch, and the ominous sounding Underbridge Exports. Other than that Underbridge is a district here in Magnimar. and probably the most seedy, dangerous and dirty one, no one that Tellerin or Nigel approach thus far have heard of the Kresch nor this company that he/she is part of.
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"Oh, sor-" Uther doesn't manage to finish his apology, the woman's stare sending a slight chill down his spine before she stalks off. Her plain clothes and standoffish attitude remind him of a merchant he used to know from his homeland. The old miser always looked dirt poor, but he was one of the richest men in the country. Uther tries to get the attention of one of his more diplomatic friends, "See that woman over there?" He says, pointing at the slight, slightly stooped woman nervously waiting in line to get close to the runecarved key, "She scares me, that one." He leans in a whispers, "I think you might want to find out more about her, she might be a lot richer than she seems."
With his message passed on, Uther drifts back through the crowd, his eyes open for any more serious contenders for the key.