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As thed red-garbed skeletal Black Echelon operative turn to go after the other team, Brayne sinks his massive fangs into the back of its neck and rips it off. The skull falls off, and the rest of the body collapses into the grain.
With that one dispatched, Kulga pushes through the mounds of grain towards the remaining enemy. She moves past Brayne, sidesteps the creature's sickle, then brings her waraxe down on a powerful downward strike and smashes it into smithereens!
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"Woah! That was impressive!" Yargos finally enters the granary after the last Black Echelon operative has been taken down. "I've heard of the good reputation of the Pathfinder Society, but this is the first time I've seen you in operation. Perhaps, after all this is over, your society will allow me to research into your history?"
"Ah, but that can wait." He moves into corner silo where the undeads were and examines the ancient rusted metal chest that one of the operatives were fiddling with earlier. "Thank goodness, we got here in time. All the vials appear to be intact, so that means they have yet to start poisoning the city's food supply." Stopping to look around the place, he adds, "Although they might need to pick out the shards of bones before consumption."
He gingerly opens one of the vials and sniffs it briefly before grimacing and cocking it back. "I had down a study of poisons in my research into the techniques of the Norgorber clergy in their attempt to infiltrate the city back in 3912. If I'm not wrong, this is a gut wither poison."
Otherwise, there is little of value among the undeads except for their masterwork sickles which have retained their sharpness after all these years.
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"There were quite a number of the city's targets listed in the codebook - destruction of the belltowers, swarming the city hall, slaughtering the priests of various churches around the town, and many more. All in a bid to disable all of Absalom's internal defences before the armada was to attack." Yargos starts wringing his hands as he shares all these. "With the codebook now in Nessian's hands, who knows what he would do next to ransom the city? We need to find him quickly. I hope Grandmaster Torch can help..."
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A few moments after the battle ends, Ischell slowly returns back to his normal (though still quite large) size. "Thanks man!" he says to Garduk. "I really need to get better at using that thing myself!"
As before, Yargos' conversation is well beyond the ability of the Paladin to follow. He instead contents himself to wander the silo's and make sure there is nothing they are missing.
Seeing the injured Harry, he pulls out his own wand. "Yo, Hotshot. I got something for you man." before tapping him and activating the wand with a drawn out "Duuuude"
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Yargos nods and replies, "Yes, let's go," casting a last final worried look at the unmoving bodies of the Black Echelon operatives.
Yargos takes the Pathfinders into the sewer maze of the Puddle District, a waterlogged labyrinth of dangerously flooded tunnels known as the Siphons. Hesitantly, Yargos explains that a number of years, he had sought Grandmaster Torch's assistance to a rather rare tome detailing the course of he Alkenstar war of independence from Nex. He warns that Torch always seeks heavy compensation for his 'favours'. He adds that Torch has powerful friends and bodyguards and that it would be best if they kept their weapons sheathed.
Eventually, Yargos brings the party to find the receiving room of Grandmaster Torch. After requesting an audience, the Pathfinders are brought before the Grandmaster, a charming-looking man, but one whose entire body is covered in horrible burn scars. He lounges in a shallow pool nursing his scars while two servants gently recycle the water over his charred form. His two heavily armored, half-orc bodyguards remain close at hand.
Torch cocks his head to one side as he studies each of you in turn. In a unexpectedly soft-spoken voice, Torch queries, "You, I remember. Yargos Gill. Three years ago. You wanted to get your hands on the War of Alkenstar Independence. Hope you are enjoying that book." Gesturing to the Pathfinders, he adds, "The six of you are new to me. Pray tell, what can I help you with today?"
Yargos is clearly intimidated by the presence of Torch, and perhaps by his previous encounter. He retreats to to the rear, leaving the Pathfinders to speak.
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Kulga sizes up his bodyguards in a single glance, then dismisses the hulking half-orcs from her mind and and focuses on Torch.
"We need Nessian. He's tampering with dangerous forces out of malice or stupidity. But unless he has a damned good reason for poisoning a granary and killing hundreds, he's not in as much control as he thinks."
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"What she said..." says Vasily giving Kulga another surprised look. Was there anything that dwarf couldn't do? Vasily had heard the rumors about Grandmaster Torch, a dealer in information both above board and below, but he never thought those stories were real. He is a bit taken aback to be in the presence of such a legend.
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Brayne cordially addresses the Grandmaster, much like you would expect of a gentlemen. "Good evening good sir, it's an honour to meet an esteemed Grandmaster like yourself." He politely bows, and offers his hand for a shake.
"I am Grand-agent Brayne. My colleagues and I represent a higher calling, as my companion pointed out, we intend to discover an evil source and hopefully eliminate the threat. It is probably obvious to you that we come needing your aid as we have come to a loss."
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As it is apparent to Ischell this is a solemn meeting, he summons up the discipline and training from years on his families estate in Taldor. Those who have become familiar with Ischell's personality outside of formal settings could be caught off guard by the man's change in demeanor.
Standing tall, he offers a formal bow to the Grandmaster. "Grandmaster, my name is Sir Ischell de Ivocus of Taldor. It is a pleasure to meet you. As my friends have said, this a unique circumstance with broad implications. I fear that Absalom itself (and all in it) may depend on our success"
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Garduk raises an eyebrow at his friends' eloquence.
How confident does a man have to be to receive strangers while taking a bath?
The half-orc's scars itch just looking at the ravaged face of the information broker, and he rubs absently at the twisted skin on one cheek.
"I'm Garduk, of the... of Absalom, at the moment. Kulga, Brayne, and Ischell are right. This Nessian will kill thousands if he isn't stopped. And if what we've seen tonight is any indication, neither walls nor muscle will be much protection."
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Torch gently strokes the surface of the water, clearly enjoying basking in the attention that the Pathfinders are showering on him. They need his help and he obviously knows that.
"Nessian? Yes, I know of him. The young upstart. Poisoning the city granary, you say? Tsk, tsk. How ambitious such young ones are nowadays. Little do they understand that tact and subtlety will carry you much further than direct confrontation." At this point, he gives each you a rather pointed look.
He raises an eyebrow as each describes the impending doom that faces the city, but beyond a faint smile, his expression does not change. After the last appeal, he pauses as if to think upon the request. But out of the blue, he suddenly change tack, and turn to address Brayne. "I get this question all the time, and it is refreshing to get to ask it back in return. What exactly are you a Grand-agent of, as compared to say a regular agent, of the Society?" The glint in his eye reveals the mischief in his question. While he does seemed charmed by the good manners of the Pathfinders, he still seems intent on dragging this out longer than it is necessary. Whether it is simple playful pranking, pure sadistic malice or something more shrewdly subtle is not immediately clear.
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"I see. Well, a Grandmaster is but the same - one with the finest of qualities and the greatest of achievements," Torch replies with a knowing smile.
He lets the moment drag on a bit longer than is necessary before suddenly piping up. "But I see that you are all raring to go to find this Nessian, and the gods should forbid me from holding you up. But really, I hope you understand my situation. The effectiveness of my work comes about from being neutral in all the feuds that rage across the city. Now, how would it look if I simply divulge the secret hideouts of every power player, even a young upstart like Nessian, to a group who are clearly looking to ... how should I say ... put an early end to his game, and likely him." He cocks his head, waiting.
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Harry looks about and thinks.
But of course. It'd be silly for us to ask you. Clearly you rejected us... that's why we'll be leaving in such a sorry state after all. It's only after we get some bit aways that we might happen upon a clue, or a note, or something that helps us find this "power player" hidey hole. And really, a young upstart making this much noise should really expect a bunch of rowdy adventurers to come barging into his home after pulling a stunt like this. Mass destruction is bad for business, and stubborn adventurers always somehow weasel our way into places we're not wanted when something turns out to be bad for business, don't we? Could be really just about anyone who tips us off... perhaps one of Nessian's competitors who just so happened to hear from a little bird that Nessian has some hunters on his tail?
He says the whole thing very matter of factly, more like he's discussing some bit of arcane lore rather than suggesting a plan of action.
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Vasily looks at Hotshot while he expounds, then nods along. "Staying neutral in such matters is easy, but what, let's say, if you had self-interest at stake. Knowing you you deal in information, perhaps there is a quid pro quo to be worked out here that overcomes your noble sense of fairness? What can we provide that would be equitable to you?"
Vasily, if he understands it right, believes that Torch trades in information, not just gives it away, so perhaps there is something we know or can do that will result in his helping share Nessian's location.
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Brayne ponders a moment and carefully crafts his responds boldly and passionately, "A Grandmaster like yourself must understand the gravity of the situation, what use would information be if there was none left? Clearly you recognize the fool Nessian is in way above his head, and left unchecked this city would be in ruins! We are just and only hope to see balance restored. Surely you must appreciate this predicament. It is as hotshot says, perhaps not directly from you, but surely you would be able to divulge a piece of information that would perhaps find us stumbling in the right path."
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"I can understand neutrality, but I also understand survival. Are you going to have tasters try every morsel before you eat? Take the first sip from every glass of wine? Will you screen every visitor - every informant, the people who bring you your stock in trade - for disease, to ensure they do not carry some horrifying wasting plague? How will you test the waters of your bath? Will you replace these bruisers - no offense intended, gentlemen - with priests, to keep the undead hordes at bay? You might be able to sustain these precautions, for a time, but at what cost?"
Garduk snarls in frustration. "Brayne is right. If Nessian continues to play with these arcane forces like a toy he stole from some other kid's sandbox, you won't have any customers left. But you won't have anything to sell, either, because a city overrun by undead doesn't need much in the way of information. And whatever precautions you take, you'll have to live with the knowledge that all it will take is one slip - by you, by one of your people - and if you're lucky, you will die quickly. If not, you'll join the mass of shamblers wandering the streets and moaning for the taste of human flesh. The only comfort will be that Nessian will almost certainly be shambling alongside you."
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Grandmaster Torch listens in deep concentration as the party spills forth all their arguments. The flood of information is not exactly coherent, and those more astute note that he pays special attention when Garduk mentions undeads and allude to Nessian's control over them. Interestingly, he does not ask any questions, and nods briefly to himself as he seems to largely piece together what Nessian has gotten himself involved in. A master, or rather, grandmaster of information brokering, he is after all.
Still, he doesn't drop his flippancy as he turns to Harry, with a wry grin. "My, I am indeed touched by your concern for my wellbeing." Again, a brief uncomfortable moment later, he finally turns serious. "But the lot of you do speak some truth. I certainly have been keeping an eye on this wannabe for some time, and the more I learn of him, the more I feared that what you have just shared will come to pass. While some chaos certainly facilitates my work, I do have my interests to protect." And here, he gives a mocking bow to Garduk.
"However, I do have my reputation to maintain after all. Quid pro quo and all that. Certainly, I could ask for money, but that is so vulgar when we have already established such an understanding. Tell you what. There's a little task I need done. Nothing too challenging I trust for such experienced Pathfinders. I've recently come into possession of a series of safes. Unfortunately, the safecracker I employed has turned out to be rather quite useless. So, if you can coax even three of the five safes open, I could be persuaded to disclose Nessian’s location and dispense with my regular fee entirely. These chests are remarkably unique and I have the foreboding suspicion that, in this case, the receptacles just might be worth more than their contents, so I’d rather you didn't smash them open. Oh! One more thing: please do not ... how shall I say ... tamper with the contents." He pauses here, possibly for dramatic effect, possibly not, and adds, "I will find out."
"So what do you say?"
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"If my companions are in agreement, then so am I."
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Immediately upon leaving the chambers of 'Grandmaster' Torch, Ishell releases all of his pent up tension in a very large exhale. His posture, previously tall and confident, collapses back to the lanky, goofy body language the others have grown accustomed too.
"I always hated that stuff, man. This dude, " he continues, obviously referencing himself, "This dude was never cut out for it. Gotta be who you are, ya know? We each have our own path to enlightenment- and that one was a dead end." His tone is self assured and introspective- as if those words were incredibly deep and impactful.
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Torch considers Kulga's question for a moment. "Hmm, I would say yes. I need those boxes opened, and if you are as competent as I know you are, it should take more than a moment or two. But yes, as this well-groomed gentleman says, let's not waste time. Let's get started." He claps his hands, and a wiry man dressed in finely pressed robes enters. Torch instructs his butler to show the Pathfinders to the safe room, before dismissing the party.
The Pathfinders are led to simple room, in which stands a long table on which sits five different looking safes. The butler directs you to them before exiting again, leaving the Pathfinders alone in the room.
A quick perfunctionary examination of the safes reveal the following:
1. The Devil Dial Safe: The lock of this iron cask contains a laughing devil’s head. The devil’s head can be turned in both directions, like a combination lock, but you fail to find any numbers on the safe to act as a guide.
2. The Box of Golden Faces: This red box has been inset with a trio of golden faces: the first appears stern, the second angry, and the third fumes with hatred. The faces are extremely lifelike, almost too lifelike. The more disconcerted you get as you examine the faces, the more they seem to frown.
3. The Riddle Vault: The lid of this stone chest is covered with a relief of carved ivy. You finds the following words cleverly carved in between the leaves on the chest’s lid: "Though different now sounds my name, the spelling still remains the same. Once prior leap of might, now becomes bird of white."
4. The Smooth Stone Chest: This sealed stone chest has no visible lock or hinges. No decoration or writing of any kind can be found.
5. The Holed Safe: A strange stylized writing wraps around the whole of this rectangular chest. Stranger still are the ten small pores that run along the box’s lid. You discover a hidden panel on one side of the box that seems to be only way to access its contents, but no means to open it.
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As soon as Kulga utters the answer to the riddle, the lid of the stone chest pops open! Inside, you find a collection of over 40 rare incenses along with a book of instruction. Flipping through it, you learn that if burned in the proper combination, the incense collection can replicate a single use of incense of meditation.
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Brayne finds himself in shock at the sight of the chest, but his curiosity has him scrutinizing every detail of each chest. "Hmm... This is perhaps the most usual collection of chest I have ever seen.. Perhaps these sad looking faces require some lively entertainment. I know a good joke, did you hear about the broken sword?...it's pointless! HAH!" Brayne laughs at his own amusement.
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Kulga looks more closely at the Smooth Stone Chest and realises that it is more like a box. While there is no lock or hinge (as far as she can see), the top of the box appears to be a simple lid.
Brayne faces the box with the three faces, and attempts to pun the box in opening. While he guffaws away, amazingly, the three faces start to shift and settle into almost equally bland and neutral expressions. The lock still remain tightly fastened, however. Once Brayne eventually stops laughing, the faces revert back to their original expressions.
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Although it took Harry quite some time, it eventually hits him and he realises why he took so long. He had been trying to decipher them as some words that might lead to some clues to opening the Holed Safe, but his initial assumption is wrong. The strange letterings on the box are actually the notes to an ancient forgotten tune! He figures out the rather straightforward tune easily from the notations.
Garduk examines the Devil Dial, finding that it does not resemble any particular form of infernal being he is familiar with. It seems to be a carved by someone based on what they think a devil looks like but has no real knowledge of one. He grabs the dial and starts turning it randomly but beyond the clicking noises the dial makes as it turns,
As Barduk was turning the dial, there were certain positions where the clicking noises sounded different from the rest.[/ooc]
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As Harry blows into each of the holes, a series of different resonating tones emanate from the box. He attempts to replicate the turn from the notations.
Vasily detects the subtle differences in the clicking noises. Once Garduk steps away, he presses his ear against the surface of the box and very slowly turns the dials back and forth, listening for the faint changes of the clicking noises. Eventually, he notes the patterns of the tumblers falling in place. Convinced that he has broken the code, he quickly turns the turns clockwise and anticlockwise in rapid succession until everyone in the room hears a loud audicle *click* as the Devil Dial box unlocks.
Peering inside, Vasily finds a treatise entitled “The Inward Facing Circle” written by Coganaris the Wracker, a famed Chelish devil-binder, a book that the more scholarly ones amongst you know have long being declared lost. Along with the tome are two scrolls.
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Garduk grunts in combined admiration and irritation at having been shown up by a back-alley knife fighter, then peers into the box and quickly casts Read Magic.
"Protection from evil and protection from good? Someone wanted to cover themselves from both sides; seems like a good fit for our host. Now, what about this book?"
The young arcanist picks up The Inward Facing Circle and begins paging through it. After a moment, he pulls a tightly-sealed box of his own out of his pack, flips open the lid to reveal a stack of loose pages, tabbed to make them easy to identify. He pulls one scroll out and quickly reads it aloud while holding the treatise in one hand.
Garduk casts Kreighton's Perusal, which gives him an understanding of the book equivalent to having skimmed it for 1 hour.
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Harry produces from the box what can only be described as a cacophony of ... sounds. Dejected, he hands the box over to Ischell. The paladin finds reasons to be thankful to his father, for the training, long remote as it might be, turned out to be helpful. After experimenting with the various holes, he applies the little he recalls to produce the tune that Harry hums to him. As soon as the flutey tune is completed, a hidden panel on the box’s side irises open, revealing a collection of scroll. Ischell scans through it quickly and it seems to be covered by a pages and pages of musical notation. Then he notices the name of the composer - Decialis Scaeva, the famed Taldan composer. This appears to be his long lost symphony Ode to the Dying Winds, completed just months before his death.
Garduk spends a few moments scanning through the book, and finds that it details the historical progression of the various methodologies that have evolved back in ancient days to the modern (at the time that the book was written) Chelaxian devil summoning practices. Unfortunately, it is more of a scholarly tome than an arcane tome, so while valuable, would only be of interest to collectors and scholars.
Kulga grasps the lid of the box and after taking one deep breath, lifts it up in one smooth stroke. Well, at least she thought she did. Instead, she finds that her hands are empty and the lid still snugly on the box.
Brayne attempts to interact with the three golden faces with canned laughter, but this time, the faces do not react at all, still maintaining their stern, angry and fuming expressions respectively.