"How familiar are you with the attack on the Diamond City?" asks the venture captain entering the room.
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"I have heard rumors of the Diamond City but none about any attacks. Was it recent?"
Wembly is young for a gnome. He is casually dressed, in clothes that do not seem to fit, and maybe have been slept in more than once too often. His hair is badly in need of a comb, but he seems oblivious to his appearance while his eyes dart back and forth from his strange green cat, to the sky and back. His mind is definitely not focused on the here and now, as he smiles caught in his own thoughts.
It has been weeks since the siege of Nerosyan, when demonic hordes from the Abyss surged forth from the region known as the Worldwound to assault the capital city of the crusader nation of Mendev. Brave Pathfinders stood side-by-side with the city’s defenders, managing to push back the attackers and ensure Nerosyan did not fall to the demons.
Venture-Captain Jorsal, the Society’s principle representative in Nerosyan, took charge of the Pathfinder defenders and since the siege has deployed numerous groups on missions throughout the region. Having left Nerosyan to survey the devastation of Kenabres, which fell to the demonic offensive—Jorsal ensured some of his agents remained behind in Nerosyan to guard the Starrise Spire, the local lodge. Earlier this morning a messenger arrived with a sealed letter from Jorsal, signaling that more work remains to be done.
Handout #1 is in the campaign description tag.
Kn (local) or Diplomacy (gather information)
EDIT: does anyone have a chronicle for Pathfinder Society Special: Siege of the Diamond City on this character?
enough for an untrained aid... :)
Wembly shares a little about the Pathfinder Lodge in Nerosyn, the Diamond City.
Jorsal of Lauterbury officially oversees Pathfinder Society operations in the area, but there is a second venture-captain who operates his own lodge. This is a dwarf named Thurl who has a no-nonsense attitude and sports a dizzying array of tattoos, scars, and piercings.
Some agents suspect that Thurl has not been entirely honest when dealing with the Decemvirate. Agents who work for him tend to have short life expectancies due to the dangerous work of exploring the Worldwound at his behest.
Glandaro digs a little deeper and also discovers that Venture-Captain Thurl is perhaps the most dedicated scholar of demonic anatomy that the Society has, and several times in his career he has discovered a physiological or psychological weakness of the fiends that granted the crusaders a small advantage. A group of Pathfinders who finished a mission in Numeria was later assigned to review Thurl’s work and notebooks, but those agents have not been heard from for several months.
Thurl’s Lodge is a modest structure that lies in the Egelsee district of Nerosyan. A single front door provides ingress, and any other doors or windows that might have existed long ago have been long since removed during Thurl’s renovations. A blacksmith and a local brewery flank the lodge.
Four people are loading the last of the ground floor library’s books into a cart. These include a tall, fair-haired knight with obvious elven heritage and a winged helm; a brutish looking half-orc with a glaive-guisarme; a human-looking monk with a nice quarterstaff; and an average looking woman with brown hair and hazel eyes.
Any questions? Any actions? Any anythings?
The pathfinder's collecting books know some of the rumors surrounding Thurl’s clandestine operation as per the 15+ and 20+ entries in the knowledge check above (which we have already discovered) They also know that the door leading into the basement bore powerful abjuration magic until recently, but that it faded as though a spell’s duration had expired a little more than a day ago. These agents also retrieve a small box for the PCs, informing them that Venture-Captain Jorsal predicted a team might have to explore the basement in his absence and that he wanted those agents to have a few extra tools at their disposal.
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The halfelf knight stops for a minute and turns with a genuine smile.
"By the Inheritor, fellow Pathfinders, it is my honor to meet you. Omrax at your service."
He bows deeply to each, then replies to Liana.
"My good lady, I have been traveling around the lodges for several years, so it is likely we have met before. I apologize if we were not properly introduced."
"I know but some of the rumors surrounding Thurl’s clandestine operation and can say that the door leading into the basement bore powerful abjuration magic until recently, but that it faded as though a spell’s duration had expired a little more than a day ago.
He continues, while handing a box to Galandaro.
Venture-Captain Jorsal predicted a team might have to explore the basement in his absence and that he wanted those agents to have a few extra tools at their disposal.
Inside the box is a scroll, but not one of history. This one has magic. There is also a couple of potions and a non-magical bottle marked 'anti-toxin'.
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A rumbling like boulders rolling down a hill can be heard from down the street. It grows slightly louder, but can be discerned as more rhythmic than a landslide. A few moments later a short, heavyset man wearing armor made of stone appears in the doorway.
"Aye, this'n mus'be Thurl's abode." The man steps inside, leaving indentations in the carpet behind him.
He carries a heavy shield made of the same basalt as his armor; they've both been obviously enchanted. Curiously, even his skin (what little you can see) is the color and texture of stone. A well-maintained beard protrudes from his stone helm. An adamantine Dwarven Waraxe is slung over his back.
"Dinnae smell like a Trait'r worked 'ere. He mus'ta covered 'is tracks well."
He glances around.
"I 'eard we're goin' underground. I got an eye fer Dwarven work. If'n Thurl's got surprises ready for us, we'll be ready fer 'em."
He grins wide.
"Name's Valor. Pleased'ta meet'cha."
Valor finds no hidden catches, counterweights, or extra bolts and gives the all clear to the summoner.
Totalling over 300 pounds with gear, Valor descends down the rickety stair case with the grace of a pregnant bovine.
With the squeal of a porcine 'in pig,' the stairs bear the cavalier's weight.
Cautiously searching then opening the door reveals it is much thicker than normal and the other side matches the walls of the next room.
A long set of dusty wooden stairs leads down into an equally untidy archive of tall shelves populated by crates, bins, and tomes. A handful of folios lay scattered about the room, concentrated most heavily near a large table that stands only about two feet tall.
Galandro's eyes take on an arcane glow* as he scans the room. Nothing jumps out any differently than before his spell was cast except the well equipped pathfinders.
Without coming out of hiding the figure asks "Who ARE you, and what are you doing here?" The voices shifts from a typical human question to a deep, and confidant boom, back to human and then slips into a soft and hissing sound.
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Galandaro suspecting that this creature would have attacked the group already if it was evil decides to converse with it."Greetings. We are Pathfinders sent to investigate the comings and goings of this place. If you mean us no ill will we can talk. What do we call you?"
But he still stays behind Valor in case he is wrong.