The fourth and final day of training has come to a close at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, heralding the end of this year’s Torchbearing. Pathfinders the world over attend this annual symposium to share their knowledge, teach each other new skills, and reinforce their connections across the Inner Sea and beyond. To celebrate the end of festivities, the lodge has hosted a grand banquet in the visiting agents’ honor. A refreshing winter breeze blows through an open window, flickering torches and sending papers scattering. The smell of freshly baked desserts fills the air while initiates clear away the remnants of the first course.
During the Torchbearing, you had the opportunity to participate in a number of classes taught by notable Pathfinders and the Three Masters.
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With hair streaked with gold, held back with a colorful, feathered headband, and eyes flashing with blue lightning, the young woman before you betrays her unworldly heritage. She wears a stylish robe of rainbow hues and a necklace of strange, decorative bird around her neck.
Tori ponders for a moment at the opportunity posed to her and her fellows.
"I was drawn to be a Pathfinder as the history of our ancient civilizations and the power and artwork draws a bee to a flower. I desire to see the wonders of the world and traveling with the Society to help uncover untold beauty appeals to my nature. Not being from a house of high standing, I hope to earn a position in society that would grant me access to libraries, museums, and cultural events like this Torchbearing that I would otherwise never see. ""
She shares her knowledge of the Torchbearing with her companions.
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Dressed in reds, golds, and oranges her shirt is billowy and soft cinched at the waist by an ornate woven belt with a large silver buckle that depicts a poncing tiger done in enamels. Her pants appear comfortable tight and are paired with a pair of high top boots in blazing reds and burning oranges. Her hair is held back by a copper diadem set with a simple yellow gem that is sits in the midst of her forehead.
"I hope you all have had an enjoyable Torchbearing thus far. I was able to teach a class just this morning on concept of using formal dance moves in sword fighting. For example the box that a waltz creates can allow you to circle around your opponent while dodging their sword swings and thrusts."
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Fandral walks into the room in his Royal Purple overcoat. His cutlass slung low in his hip, he grabs the hilt so it does not move to much.
"Ah, Holly, so you were the teacher of the class. If I had known that, I would have made a better attempt to join. But, you know, side tracked by business and all that." He takes his tricorce hat off and bows, "Forgive me dear."
He straitens himself back up and adjust the battered pistol in waist belt once more, "So, how have you been since our last adventure."
As the Pathfinders conclude the dessert course, a small origami swan flutters through the room and lands on the center of the table. In moments, it unfolds itself into a crisp and creaseless piece of paper.
Pathfinders,
My apologies for interrupting your feast, but Nigel Aldain has just informed me that there is trouble at the Blakros Museum. Once your bitter laughter has subsided, let us continue.
Nigel says it can’t wait until morning. We don’t want to jeopardize our relationship with the Blakros Family, so we will do what we can to aid him. Please gather your gear and meet in the main hall within Skyreach. I will give more instructions then.
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin
Shining Crusade,” opening next week.
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"Not to worry Fandral, I would be happy to provide you some one on one tutoring later. As I remember a few of your steps left a little something to be desired." Holly gives a smirk as she finishes speaking.
"I've been doing well. I've been tending to my courtly duties and spending some time resting and recreating since our last madcap romp. After that last shindig I certainly needed it."
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Fandral returns the smirk, "I think we all did. But, time at sea does a body well. " He stretches as if indicating the last bit.
"Now, lets look what we got here" Fandral says looking over the letter. Fandral lets out a laugh, "Looks like Nigel is in over his head again. Valsin says we are needed in Skyreach."
"It seems the mueseum is opening a display for the shining crusade"
Fandral looks over to Holly and with a sweeping motion, "After you mi'lady"
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"I've found events like this are a welcome respite from the usual Society work", says a hulking half-orc in a deep timbre. "There is beauty in such trials but there is more spent in days sharing art and practicing song. Of course, pleasant company like all of you are an added bonus", he adds with a slight smirk exposing his thick tusks. "Brutus Ironheart. I'm known as The Mountain in certain circles."
Brutus is a tall powerfully built half-orc with olive skin and short coarse dark hair. He's dressed in a loose-fitting roughspun sleeveless tunic and leather breeches. His bare arms are massive with corded muscle and covered in elaborate runic tattoos. A wayfinder hangs midway down his bulging pectorals alongside a worn wooden holy symbol of Shelyn. He carries no weapons except a brace of short iron throwing knives.
"The new exhibit does sound interesting... If you would have me", the big orc says with a slight bow.
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A tall, green-skinned half-breed scurries over to the group. "Apologies, my class ran long." he explains. "Been helping the new recruits understand the benefit and honeyed words and a quick wit."
The man's red eyes match the rune (link) on his hairless scalp. His muscular frame hides beneath interlinked silver chains; an axe leans over his shoulder. "Name's Iskar."
Glancing towards Brutus, his eyes fall on the holy symbol. A chuckles escapes his lips. "Must say, I've been saved by a god or two and I've saved them a few times. I'll gladly welcome your aid, just don't ask me to join your flock."
Slipping up behind Iskar, a red otherwordly creature shakes his head. The swirling green clouds surrounding this quadruped adds an air of mystery, though a glowing rune on its side matches the one in the half-orcs forehead. Offering a toothy grin to the group, it speaks.
"As usual, he's forgotten to introduce me. I am called Zaas and I tend to save his hide when he steps in it, if you catch my drift. So, it sounds like the Nigels got himself in a bind?"
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At the mention of the Shining Crusade, Victoria perks up to the conversation.
Pardon me, but did you say Shining Crusade or Silver Crusade?
Nigel always seems to be in a bind. I agree with most...the Blakros Family are cursed with the worst luck ever.
I supposed we should not keep dear Valsin waiting.
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The front doors of Skyreach burst open with a loud crack. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin strides to the edge of the platform, with a slender elf dressed in practical but expensive clothing trailing meekly behind. The red-faced venture-captain addresses the crowd in a booming voice.
“Pathfinders, I regret interrupting the festivities, but we have something of a situation. Approximately twenty minutes ago, unknown forces invaded the Blakros Museum. Fortunately for everyone involved, the Torchbearing is about cooperation and helping our colleagues, so let’s think of this less as an inconvenience and more as an opportunity to practice what we preach.”
The elf, Nigel, exhales sharply, then speaks, “Now, Ambrus, I’ve spent a king’s ransom fortifying the museum from all sorts of invaders: sentinels from the Golemworks, magical wards from the Arcanamirium, and even contracts for guard beasts, both magical and mundane—spared no expense. I didn’t want to come here, but I’ve got no choice.”
Valsin’s forced smile cracks slightly, showing his annoyance. “Out with it, Nigel. Get to the point.”
“Someone broke into my museum and set off the magical protections! I was preserving priceless Shining Crusade pieces for our new exhibit when the first alarm activated. I sent for district guards and went to investigate, but by the time I arrived, the thieves had already locked themselves in my study. They somehow caused the Shining Crusade relics to fly around the museum and attack my sentinels. Everything is going haywire! The magical traps started to target me, the sentinels are not responding to my commands, and—”
Valsin holds out a hand to steady the increasingly agitated elf. “The last you knew, the thieves were still in your study?” Nigel nods. “Very well. Pathfinders: the Seekers should prepare to teleport directly into the Blakros study—“
“That won’t work,” Nigel interrupts, “The study is magically sealed. After that dreadful Numerian exhibit, I turned it into a magical safe room. The robbers must have figured out how to activate it; no one can get in or out while the wards hold. I can work on breaking the wards, but meanwhile my sentinels are smashing up the collection. Some of those priceless relics are on loan from your own Society lodges, so helping me is really helping yourselves.”
“Fine.” Ambrus Valsin takes a deep breath and then turns to the assembled Pathfinders. “Pathfinders, go to the Blakros Museum, secure any relics you can, disable the security systems, and apprehend the looters if possible. Stay safe.”
Dozens of Wise District guards surround the Blakros Museum. The sergeant nods to Ambrus Valsin as he approaches, a subtle smirk dancing across the venture-captain’s face. The museum itself is alight with swirling whorls of color and the sounds of metal and stone clashing. Occasionally, brief flashes of light burst from the front entrance, illuminating a toppled banner that says “Legacy of the Shining Crusade.”
The broad-shouldered, middle-aged Ulfen man salutes, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. “Well met, Venture-Captain Valsin. I am Svaralk of Asleifar, Sergeant of the Learned Guard. The Guard appreciates your assistance.” He points to his subordinates, “Our initial attempt to quell the animated relics within failed. I’ve ordered the Guard to withdraw and form a perimeter.”
Ambrus Valsin returns the sergeant’s salute, a gesture of mutual respect. “You once served in Grand Prince Stavian III’s Ulfen Guard, did you not?”
Svaralk nods, “That’s right. Afterwards, I retired to Absalom and have served this city for seven years. This is not the first catastrophe I’ve responded to at the Blakros Museum, though none has been quite so dramatic as this. As if anyone needed further proof of the museum’s reputation for trouble.”
The Ulfen confides to the Venture-Captain, “After Nigel Aldain harangued me for dereliction of duty in not immediately retaking the museum, I’m in no rush to sacrifice the lives under my command until the warring creatures inside wear each other down.” He holds up a hand and shakes his head, “I don’t hold Nigel Aldain’s outburst against him. I recognize the elf is rightfully concerned—albeit rather precious—about his exhibit.”
Svaralk turns to your team of Pathfinders and says, “Before you enter, I can provide you an overview of the museum’s layout and tell you that there are animated relics and guard animals on the ground level, and clockwork creatures skirmishing with each other on the floor above. We also have an especially challenging problem in the gardens at the southeast corner of the museum grounds. Some kind of magical runes displaying swarm-like behavior, more magical devices really than living creatures. They proved too complicated a challenge for me and my guards; we simply lacked the skills to disable them.”
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Watching the pair interact, Iskar nods. "Yes, I suspect we'll get to each in turn." Turning to his companions he adds "My friend and I are more equipped for physical combat than swarms. However, we will follow your more experienced lead. Our aim here is to assist you and keep you from harm as best we can."
"Ha!" exclaims the shadowy beasts. "Don't let my two-legged pet here fool you. I'm the combatant. He simply increases my effectiveness. And these swarm-like entities are magical traps, right?"
Pausing to look to each member of the group in turn, he smiles a toothy grin. "My green-skinned friend does have some experience using magical toys."
Thousands of glowing glyphs form a protective shell around the outside of the museum, casting a sparkling aura of light that bounces off the fountain’s waters.
For every 5 that you beat the DC, you may ask for one piece of information from this list.
Combat (-ish)! Round 1.
Party
Swarm of Magical Runes
Shaking his head as he follows his companion towards the swirling runes, Zaas sits back on his haunches. With surprising dexterity, he begins fiddling with the sigils.
"No, Iskar. It's more like this. You can't just jab at it with your sausage fingers!"
The swirling runes begin to move faster and begin to emit an agitated hum after Iskar's attempts to fiddle with them. They do not seem to be any more irritated by Zaas' efforts but neither do they seem to be calmed.
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A middle-aged man with crew-cut white hair, dragging on a decidedly aromatic cigar, wanders in among the others.
Although dressed rather informally (a full-length leather coat, worn open over a hawaiian shirt and breeches), he has a well worn, and well cared for bow of darkwood across his back.
"Sorry for bein' late, young'uns. I don't suppose any o' ye have seen any garden gnomes, hereabouts? No? Ne'er mind."
He then moves over to try and disable the runes, puffing on his cigar, and trying to burn them out with the tip.
The Dawnflower dervish comes to understand some of how the runes interact with each other and the traps around the museum. Her manipulations appear to calm the buzzing noise, but it does not stop the cloud from washing over the eidolon and his summoner.
Victoria and Henderson notice a shimmer on the ground between the two statues within the garden.
Combat! Round 2.
Party is Up
Swarm of Living Runes
Iskar (14 non-lethal damage), Fortitude vs. DC 21 Distraction
Zaas (11 non-lethal damage), Fortitude vs. DC 21 Distraction
"Ha! That's why people prefer my comp...com...RrrEck" Stopping mid-sentence as bile begins to well up inside his maw, the beast quickly follows his companion. "Rrrck"
Holly makes significant progress on calming the rune swarm. Old Man Henderson thinks that he's almost figured it out, but ultimately fails to accomplish anything noticeable.
You are banished to an extra-dimensional labyrinth.
The swarm shifts over the closest interlopers: Old Man Henderson and Holly. Simultaneously, Fandral vanishes.
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Fandral appears inside a labyrinth made of featureless obsidian walls, floors, and ceilings. Uncomfortably orange light fills the halls from no discernible source.
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Combat! Round 3
Party is Up
Swarm of Living Runes (tick counter 2)
Iskar (14 non-lethal damage)
Zaas (11 non-lethal damage)
Holly (15 non-lethal damage; Fortitude vs. DC 21 Distraction)
Old Man Henderson (13 non-lethal damage; Fortitude vs. DC 21 Distraction)
Fandral (maze; DC 20 Intelligence check to escape)
Victoria's application of hypothetical laws regarding rune magic does not seem to have much effect on the swarm. However, Holly and Henderson--standing inside the swarm, ignoring the stunning zaps of arcane energy with the aid of their magical trinkets--manage to figure out a few very important clues and the speed of the runes swarming in the cloud diminishes quite remarkably.
Combat! Round 3
Iskar & Zaas (Distraction only lasts 1 round, so you're clear)
Swarm of Living Runes (8) (tick counter 1)