Magnimar, the City of Monuments. A city with its eyes on the angels above and its feet swallowed deep in the muck. A city where the beautiful statues up on the Summit cast long shadows across the grime of the Shade beneath the Irespan; a city where noble aspirations and decadent vices weave together to form the tapestry of life. It is a city of corrupt politicians and humble pilgrims, of shining crusaders and poisonous assassins, of prostitutes and scholars, of visionaries and thugs. It is a city where a man might find his fortune if he did not bleed his life out in its gutters, where one brilliant moment of glory might wash clean all his sins. It all depends on how the pieces come together.
For each of you, today is a day where one of those pieces might be dropping into place. As you make your way through the high-class crowds of the Summit on your way to Heidmarch Manor, you hold a letter in your hand, an invitation to employment - and perhaps a great deal more.
I hope you have found time to settle into our lovely city in the short days since your arrival; our city has much to offer visitors, even if it can be overwhelming at times as well. During our previous meeting, I promised to send word if I found an opportunity to make use of your talents on behalf of the Society, and I believe that time has come. I am putting together a highly specialized team to deal with a matter of grave import not only to the Society, but to Varisia as a whole. Please report an hour before noon to Heidmarch Manor - you will be compensated for your visit, but that reward will pale in light of the riches that await you should we come to an agreement on my proposition to you. I look forward to speaking with you soon!
Sheila Heidmarch,
Venture-Captain
I am Sheila Heidmarch, Venture-Captain of the newest Pathfinder Society lodge - and the only such lodge in Varisia at this time. You have come to my attention as someone who possesses a certain amount of skills and interests that make you an excellent addition to a highly specialized team I'm putting together for a matter of grave import not only to the Society, but to Varisia as a whole. Please report an hour before noon to Heidmarch Manor - you will be compensated for your visit, but that reward will pale in light of the riches that await you should we come to an agreement on my proposition to you. I look forward to speaking with you soon!
Sheila Heidmarch,
Venture-Captain
I must admit, I was surprised when you came to me last month and spoke of employment; on our previous meetings, you did not strike me as the adventurous sort, and indeed your state of affairs was such that I was not even sure you were the man I thought I knew, your ring notwithstanding; this is why I did not speak of our history together before. Since we last talked, I have made certain inquiries, and I believe I have learned enough of your situation to understand why you have found such a reception among my fellow nobles, if not to shed any light on what happened in the interim or what caused your memory loss. What I have learned, I am reluctant to share - I fear it would only cause you greater harm as matters stand. You are in no position to address the matter, at least not yet.
During our previous meeting, I promised to send word if I found an opportunity to make use of your talents on behalf of the Society, and I believe that time has come. I am putting together a highly specialized team to deal with a matter of grave import not only to the Society, but to Varisia as a whole. Please report an hour before noon to Heidmarch Manor - you will be compensated for your visit, but that reward will pale in light of the riches that await you should we come to an agreement on my proposition to you, and I think such rewards might serve you well in your attempts to reclaim your place in Magnimarian society. I look forward to speaking with you soon!
Sheila Heidmarch,
Venture-Captain
I am Sheila Heidmarch, Venture-Captain of the newest Pathfinder Society lodge - and the only such lodge in Varisia at this time. You have come to my attention as someone who possesses a certain amount of skills and interests that make you an excellent addition to a highly specialized team I'm putting together for a matter of grave import not only to the Society, but to Varisia as a whole. Please report an hour before noon to Heidmarch Manor - you will be compensated for your visit, but that reward will pale in light of the riches that await you should we come to an agreement on my proposition to you. I look forward to speaking with you soon!
Sheila Heidmarch,
Venture-Captain
I am Sheila Heidmarch, Venture-Captain of the newest Pathfinder Society lodge - and the only such lodge in Varisia at this time. You have come to my attention as someone who possesses a certain amount of skills and interests that make you an excellent addition to a highly specialized team I'm putting together for a matter of grave import not only to the Society, but to Varisia as a whole. Please report an hour before noon to Heidmarch Manor - you will be compensated for your visit, but that reward will pale in light of the riches that await you should we come to an agreement on my proposition to you. I look forward to speaking with you soon!
Sheila Heidmarch,
Venture-Captain
Ahead of you, a tall white marble privacy wall surrounds a broad acreage of gardens and leafy trees, with only the briefest of glimpses between of the red slate roof of a tall manor house within. A brass plaque hangs beside the open gate that reads "Heidmarch Manor," and two guards in private livery flank it in alert poses. As you approach, you see there are a few others, also dressed and equipped in the fashion of adventurers, approaching the gate at the same time, and the guards seem to be expecting all of you.
to dot. Post more later.
Zeuth takes a quick mental inventory of his percieved allies' (rivals'?) apparent demeanors and competencies as he approaches the tall gate. Wordlessly, he flashes his invitation to the guards.
As the gate is open, the guards show no interest in stopping any of you - or any of the passersby, for that matter - from going in. At the sight of Zeuth's letter, though, one of the two men points up the path toward the manor house and says politely, "Lady Heidmarch is expecting you. Just ring the bell, sir."
Pocketing the letter without directing so much as a nod or a glance at either guard, Zeuth strolls toward the front door and rings the bell, as instructed. He stands stiffly as he waits for a response.
Natty uncomfortable in such fine surroundings shrinks as small as he can. His shoulders hunch over, he pulls his hood down over his eyes, peering furtively the whites of his eyes are seen darting to the left and right, watching the others make their way to the door. He wears his dirty gray-black tunic and cape, it attracts the shadows of the walls and ornamental trees to it, as if the very clothing itself wishes not to be seen. Having given the merest nod of acknowledgement to the guards as he flicked his invitation briefly in their direction, he walks towards the bell, with a slow measured stuttering step. His hand have disappeared into the folds of his hooded cape, he is nothing but a shabby and destitute shadow that has deflowered the fresh garden colors, green, yellow and blue that give vibrancy to the wealthy manor house.
He interrupts his march forward and sidles under the cover of a green canopy offered by a tree and stands in its shadows leaning by the trunk, watching, casting an eyes over the fellow invitees to the manor. Looking at their strengths and weaknesses, identifying any threat. As he observes, his body and clothes seem to meld into the shadow, making it more difficult to identify his position.
Jackson strides through the open gates and tilts his head back to feel the hilt of his sword. The suroundings seem familiar, though not comforting. He nods at the others and waits silently as after the bell is rung. I hope this Lady has some good ale in there.
Zeuth registers a moment of nervousness - not his own, but that of the venomous viper coiled under his sleeve. The strange empathic link at work again. The serpent - the murderous, hated serpent - was no doubt discomforted by the handful of strangers beginning to crowd the front door.
"Good," thinks Zeuth.
Erwin takes his time to size up his company. He is feeling confident in his fancy new attire and brandishing his silver key symbol for all to see. "Of course my skills will be useful for an expedition of this character. Let's just see what the others can do."
Natty smiles as he sees the sleeve of a human move, a movement that is not his arm. Hmmm, a tricky one that, he holds a surprise for the unobservant. I must make his acquaintance. He watches the cloth ripple and be taut, then rise and fall as if a living creature might be breathing under its master's protection.
Then his eyes are drawn to the confident step of a dwarf as he marches up to those gathered round the door and bell. The sun glints off something he holds up, a key. A key, but I wonder what too, interesting although he is brash enough to hold it out for all to see. Is he bluffing or is the key a useless instrument with no mystery at the end of it.
The shadows under the tree seem to move, though there is not distinct form, Natty keeps himself away from those lining up to enter, until he has had a chance to weigh up the companions being laid up for the job ahead.
As you make your way through the high-class crowds of the Summit on your way to Heidmarch Manor, you hold a letter in your hand, an invitation to employment - and perhaps a great deal more
You hear a commotion from one of roads leading to the manor, and turn to see a group of 7 or 8 young children dancing around an older Vudrani man and clapping along with him. pahpahpahpahpah PAH! pahpahpahpahpah PAH!
The impromptu parade stops as the man, struggling to catch his breath through his laughter, waves the children away. "Off with you back to your mothers and your chores. There will be time for dancing tomorrow..."
He approaches the two guards, and bows. "A brilliant day to you, gentlemen! James, your son and his friends provided an excellent escort. Please, thank him for me when you return home this evening." Turning to the other guard, he continues with small talk and pleasantries. "It appears Her Ladyship has business for me to attend to, Sir Coryn, so I must beg you to apologize to Glorienne for me. I am truly sorry to miss out on your wife's fine cooking. Again." he says, this last comment made with a wink that brings a chuckle from both of the guards.
Approaching the group of men, he offers a wide smile and flourishing bow.
"I am Arjuun Raab, Seeker of Illumination and the Revelation of the Hidden. I trust that you are to be my companions for whatever business the Lady Heidmarch has called me to discuss?"
The guards smile and return Arjun's greeting in kind. "We know, Arjun," replies Coryn, nodding up the path. "She told us to expect you and the others. Just ring the bell, and Daven'll show you through. I should warn you, though, the thing with the candlewax didn't go over well; you should probably steer clear of him as much as you can today." Both men smile at the memory.
As Arjun reaches the manor house, he sees the four other men who have also gathered at the door; at basically the same time, the door itself opens to reveal a tall, dour-looking man in the dress of a high-ranking servant or butler. He nods politely to the extremely varied group standing on the doorstep, seeming not at all surprised or put off by their mixed appearance. "Good sirs," he says in an even tone, bowing slightly, "Lady Heidmarch is expecting you. Please, if you would accompany me to the library, she will be with you in just a moment." Gesturing for you to enter, the man turns away - although he does manage to find time, for just an instant, to scowl at Arjun - and leads you into the house.
Heidmarch Manor is large and well-appointed, rich furnishings decorated in a distinctively Garundi style. Bronze spears and long, thin wooden masks hang on the walls, and richly-woven rugs and tapestries in geometric patterns of red, green, yellow and black provide most of the color. The library is one of the rooms closest to the door, just beyond the foyer - the walls are covered in bookshelves, and the tables in the center of the room are heaped with books and scrolls.
Only moments after the butler closes the door behind him, it opens again, revealing two women. The one in the lead is a tall, attractive woman with dark curled hair and an aristocratic cast to her face, wearing a comfortable-looking but richly-woven dress; the other is slightly shorter (though still on the tall side for a woman), a half-elf with bright red hair, tattoos along her jawline and neck and a nose ring piercing her left nostril. She wears leather armor, and a sheathed bastard sword hangs on her back, matched by a distinctive redwood-and-mithral aklys (a hooked club attached to a cord) on her belt. The noblewoman smiles as she sees you all. "Hello, everyone," she says, in a surprisingly deep voice. "I am Sheila Heidmarch, Venture-Captain of the Magnimarian Lodge and mistress of this house. Thank you all for coming. This is Koriah Azmeren, one of the Pathfinder Society's most talented and successful agents. Unfortunately, the timing for our meeting has been complicated by Koraih's arrival - she has brought me a number of Thassilonian artifacts recovered from the Darklands below the Fogscar mountains, and I need to take a few more minutes to examine them. Please forgive the delay."
Heidmarch crosses the room, clearing some space off of one of the tables and placing an unusual object on it: an ornate cubical stone coffer, covered in Thassilonian runes. "In the meantime, though, I thought you could help us with another minor issue. This stone coffer is an ancient Thassilonian puzzle, a cunning feat of magical engineering known as a paradox box. As you’ll see from even a casual investigation, what appear to be seams on the sides are only shallow grooves—there’s no obvious way to open the thing. Each paradox box has its own secret method of being opened. Essentially, a paradox box substitutes hidden catches and magical triggers for a lock. Given time, anyone clever enough could figure out how to open a paradox box, just as given time, a locksmith can open any lock. This particular box was among those items recovered by Koriah — these scrolls are her preliminary notes on possible triggers or methods of opening it, but she’s not yet had a chance to sit down and properly investigate the thing. So... why don’t you put your heads together and see if you can’t do that for me? Even if the box is empty, as I suspect it probably is, knowing the method of opening it makes it a valuable find anyway. I’ll return shortly, and I hope to see that box open! Think of this as an audition, if you will — because the actual task I want to speak to you about soon will require as much wit as it will brawn!" Heidmarch places the scrolls with Azmeren's notes on them next to the box, then excuses herself and her companion, and together they leave you alone with the puzzle - and each other.
Zeuth winces painfully - as though at a flash of bright light - at Arjun's blustery entrance. He gives Vudrani a barely-polite and vaguely-irritated shred of a smile in acknowledgement.
Once inside, Zeuth acknowledges both the butler and the house-matron-turned-Venture-Captain with a nod and a simple "Mm."
At the barest hint of the idea that the "puzzle box" should constitute a test, Zeuth cooly steps forward, one hand stiffly behind his back, and examines both Koriah's notes and the paradox box itself. As he does so, he begins to concentrate on a detect magic spell.
Perception:
Knowledge (arcana)
Knowledge (history)
Knowledge (nature)
Knowledge (planes)
Spellcraft
The nameless viper that serves as Zeuth's familiar hides up his sleeve, and gives the box a cursory inspection of its own. Zeuth communicates an empathic feeling of "curiosity" to the damned serpent, and telepathically "listens" for an empathic reply.
Viper's Perception:
Viper's Stealth:
Step back gentlemen, I believe I have a solution.Jackson positions himself in front of the box and unsheathes his falchion.
Regardless, once the proper command is given, a seam appears around the chest, and nested hinges within allow this lid to open, revealing an extradimensional space 1 cubic foot in size. Anything that will fit completely within that space (regardless of weight) can be successfully stored within, and the chest can be sealed again simply by closing it. The contents of the storage space do not change the weight of the chest, since they actually stay in an otherwise inaccessible extradimensional space. If the chest is destroyed, the extradimensional space collapses and any contents are jettisoned randomly into the Ethereal Plane.
Paradox boxes were especially popular in Thassilon for their relative inexpensiveness as well as their superior security and durability. Many Thassilonian creators, burdened with arrogance and hubris, constructed their paradox boxes such that their surfaces were decorated with elaborate and carefully constructed riddles or wordplays that gave clues to their command words. These items are prize finds for organizations such as the Pathfinder Society, because a particularly clever investigator can often still open them, revealing their time-lost secrets even though the command word might have been lost millennia ago.
Your viper tastes the air with its tongue, and you feel a sense of alarm - something about the box makes it uncomfortable, though you cannot say for certain what the source of its distress might be.
Koriah’s notes list translations of the significant runes on the box — one of the most oft-repeated symbols was the rune for "wrath," which Koriah also notes is associated with evocation magic, and in the earliest days of Thassilon with the word "kindness." Her notes indicate that this rune merely marks the box has having once belonged to a citizen of the Thassilonian nation of Bakrakhan, and that the rune likely has little to do with the method of opening this particular paradox box.
Another of Koriah’s scrolls lists another potentially significant observation: five of the box’s faces are identical, but on one face, several additional runes appear. These runes spell out the word "CRUEL." The notes suggest that this word is possibly somehow linked to the box’s mystery. She’s also noted that each of the individual runes in the word can be reorganized by touching two runes at once — doing so causes the two touched runes to exchange places for an hour before reverting to their original spelling of "CRUEL."
Without looking in Tanner's direction, Zeuth sharply raises a single finger - the universal gesture for "wait." He then quickly and quietly puts his staggering intellect to work rearranging the letters C-R-U-E-L into several different combinations:
First, he tries LUCRE, thinking perhaps to tie the answer to the sin of greed, not wrath. Then Zeuth tries shorter words like CUR, RULE, CURE, CLUE, RUE, CUE, and LURE.
Zeuth's penetrating intellect is not overstated - his first attempt turns out to be the correct one, as he quickly spells "LUCRE" and the box undergoes a subtle transformation, the seams that only appeared to be openings actually becoming such.
Zeuth sighs at the ease with which the puzzle unravels, then - bravely but perhaps unwisely - opens the box himself with a quick, controlled, and bored gesture, one hand still rigidly behind his back. His expression is flat and dour - he expected more from ancient Thassilon.
Zeuth flips open the box, revealing a dark space within. For an instant, he can see several objects glittering in the shadowed opening, but his view is suddenly interruted by a burst of multicolored light, light that resolves itself into two figures: a pair of small humanoids, each about 8 inches tall, with doglike-bodies and heads like tiny hyenas. They cackle madly as they leap from the table, rushing toward the bookshelves with gleeful malice. The air around you seems to twist in some inexpressible fashion, as if the world itself had decided to frown at you in disapproval.
Hey look, it's pugwampis!
Knowledge (nature):
Knowledge (nature):
Initiative:
Initiative:
The half-orc taken aback by the tiny creatures, steps back watching before he is able to gather himself to the shock.
!^$%# ^@%$ &@#%@ not again Now why did I say that
Initiative
Initiative
"Lucre, such a beautiful word. I like how these people think."
Initiative: , Initiative:
Ah Hah! Perhaps Daven has a sense of humor after all!
The little beasts rush toward opposite ends of the room; one reaches the bookshelf neares the door and grabs a book, tearing it in half along the spine and cackling, while the other lands on another table and begins stuffing scrolls into its mouth and eating them.
Erwin draws his mace and prepares to pound one of the little gremlins before they ruin any more of the valuable books.
Heavy mace attack: , , damage
Seeing the creatures destroying the ancient tomes, Natty rushes at the one eating the scrolls, diving across the table at the thing. His arms set forward he scowls in his deep gravel voice, "Come here my little friend, come to daddy!". He opens his arms making a grab at the creature, papers and scrolls flying everywhere.
|
Flinching at the unnerving planar shift around him and the sudden appearance of the gremlins, Zeuth grimaces at the annoyance (and at the mild embarassment of having been caught by surprise).
The warlock performs a slow and eerily-calm gesture - something like a hypnotist's wave of the hand, taking one or two serenely casual steps - in stark contrast to the sudden chaos engulfing the room - toward the grelmin that Natty is attempting to wrestle.
Lifting the falchion off his shoulder, Jackson attempts to bring it down on (and through) the little imp on the table, figuring that the scrolls are worth more than the finish of the table
Power Attack
Power Attack
Damage
Erwin draws his mace and prepares to pound one of the little gremlins before they ruin any more of the valuable books.
Erwin brings his mace around toward the one neartest bookshelf. Unfortunately, the usually-stable dwarf trips on the edge of one of the tables, and his mace comes down on the bookshelf just above his target, pulverizing the wood and sending more books tumbling to the floor in a shower of splinters. The gremlin laughs hysterically.
Seeing the creatures destroying the ancient tomes, Natty rushes at the one eating the scrolls, diving across the table at the thing. His arms set forward he scowls in his deep gravel voice, "Come here my little friend, come to daddy!". He opens his arms making a grab at the creature, papers and scrolls flying everywhere.
Natty snatches at the gremlin on the table, and his hands close around the wiggling, chattering vermin, which screams in outrage.
Flinching at the unnerving planar shift around him and the sudden appearance of the gremlins, Zeuth grimaces at the annoyance (and at the mild embarassment of having been caught by surprise).
The warlock performs a slow and eerily-calm gesture - something like a hypnotist's wave of the hand, taking one or two serenely casual steps - in stark contrast to the sudden chaos engulfing the room - toward the grelmin that Natty is attempting to wrestle.
Lifting the falchion off his shoulder, Jackson attempts to bring it down on (and through) the little imp on the table, figuring that the scrolls are worth more than the finish of the table
With very little warning, the pugwampi in Natty's hands suddenly falls asleep. Shockingly, unconscious it looks much less horrible that it did a moment before; rather like an ugly-enough-to-be-cute lapdog being held up by a child. The moment passes, though, as Jackson brings his falchion down in a bloody swing, and though for one brief moment it looks like Natty is about to lose a finger, the blade instead cleaves the gremlin right in half, and it disappears in the same burst of light that accompanied its appearance.
Guessing the things are some kind of fey, Arjub draws his cold iron dagger, steps toward the bookshelf where Erwin is trying and failing to pin down the beast tearing apart the books, and takes a stab at it.
Ill luck, however, sends his blade into the wood of the bookshelf right next to the thing's head, and the combined impact of that and Erwin's mace rock the entire thing enough to knock a vase of flowers atop the shelves crashing to the floor.
His previous attack having worked beautifully, Jackson steps over to the next little nuisance and repeats.
Power Attack
Power Attack
Damage
A bit embarrassed at the effect of his last blow, Erwin pauses a little before striking again.
Heavy mace , damage
Natty once more tries to grab the little blighter, his hands being more useful than their swords.
Zeuth's magic fails to take hold of the gremlin's mind, and Erwin and Jackson find their strikes are ineffective. Both think at first that they will hit, but the rug shifts slightly under Jackson's feet and he instead pulverizes a reading stand, while Erwin's mace slips a little in his hands, and when he shifts his grip to hold onto it again, he winds up instead catching the candlestick mounted on the wall next to bookcase. The candle falls, and fire and hot wax both begin to lick at the pile of scrolls. Finally, though, Natty manages to grab the little squirming thing.
With the remaining pugwamp captured by the half-orc, I decide to wait, dagger-ready, to see if his luck continues to hold.
Damage: or
The pugwampi struggles, trying to free itself from Natty's grasp. It fails to do so, however, no matter how much it twists, turns and tries to bite at the half-orc's hands.
A smile comes over Natty's face as he pins the creature to the floor, holding it down firmly so that it cannot move. Natty spits out the words, "Tie him up or do something to stop these destructive creatures. Oh and put the fire out someone!"
Zeuth shakes his head at the calamity that ensues as his new fellow "Pathfinders" pile onto the slippery little gremlin. Not one for fisticuffs or grapples, Zeuth instead steps over to the paradox box, and peers inside, gesturing and speaking an arcane word.
The writhing thing manages to slip free of Natty's grasp, but Arjun, waiting for it, stabs down with his dagger and catches it squarely on the head. The cold iron blade makes its flesh sizzle, and it screams in pain and anger.
Flushed and angry, Erwin decides to try to control the damage rather than adding to it and spends his turn trying to put out the fire.
Seeing the little blighter slip out of Natty's hand, Jackson slices at it.
Attack
Attack
Damge
Jackson finishes the fight permanently, his falchion catching the screaming gremlin and sending it back to wherever it came from in one final flash of light.
The door bursts open, and Lady Heidmarch and Koriah Azmeren stand there, looking at the havoc that has been wreaked upon the room with a mix of anger and amazement. "What is going on here?" Heidmarch demands, looking at the broken bookshelves, torn and half-eaten scrolls, shattered vase and Erwin's desperate attempt to stamp out the fire.
Speaking for the first time in present company, Zeuth simply states:
"I have opened the box."
"It would seem that box had some visitors waiting to get out." says the half-orc in a downtrodden voice thinking how he couldn't even keep hold of the creature. "Strange creatures, just when you thought you'd got on top of them, it seemed you got distracted or mistimed or just straight missed the little critter. You should check your boxes more carefully next time." He seems to hold the ladies responsible for the mess, "We stopped 'em doin' any more damage though, you was lucky we was here." as his voice seems to perk up, as he assigns himself and the group in the room as heroes.
"Mm. Now then-"
Zeuth tilts the box over, gently scattering its contents onto the desktop. He raises an eyebrow in a "what now?" gesture, as though his sentence were finished.
"What is going on here?" Heidmarch demands, looking at the broken bookshelves, torn and half-eaten scrolls, shattered vase and Erwin's desperate attempt to stamp out the fire.
"My apologies, Lady Heidmarch. In our haste to capture the impish creatures that escaped from the box, we neglected to ensure the safety of your belongings. I assure you such an oversight will not happen again."
Heidmarch looks nonplussed for a moment, then reaches out a finger to touch a few of the items scattered over the table. With a shrug, she picks up the paradox box and says, "This was my fault. I should have been more careful with a potentially dangerous artifact. You've done well to get it open so quickly, and to have dealt with the creatures inside. I'm going to keep the paradox box for additional study, but you have definitely earned the rest." She indicates the three gems, the dagger - now clearly visible as being made from silver - and the brass ring. Raising a hand to indicate a request for a moment's patience, she turns to her half-elf companion and the two exchange brief farewells.
Before she leaves, Azmeren bows to you all and murmurs, "Good fortune on your searches, Pathfinders," before withdrawing and closing the door behind her.
That done, Sheila Heidmarch turns back to you and asks that you take seats. "I think it is time to discuss my actual purpose in asking you all to come here. First, allow me to apologize for that unpleasantness regarding the gremlins—but it does provide an excellent object lesson. The life of an adventurer is not one for the weak-hearted. That you not only took care of the gremlins but also got the box open in the first place is all the confirmation I need that my gut was right — you’re the perfect group for the job I have in mind.
"You see — I’ve recently had trouble with one of my informants here in Magnimar, Natalya Vancaskerkin. She’s a half-Varisian who recently approached the Pathfinder Society with an offer to serve as a street informant. She runs with the Sczarni — I’m not sure with which group. A week ago, Natalya sent me a cryptic hint that her gang was on the verge of uncovering an item that would be of great interest to the Society. Since the Sczarnis’ methods of uncovering something often involves an armed robbery or breaking into somebody’s personal chambers, we thought it prudent not to press for further details and instead wait to see what it would produce. Suffice it to say, she hinted strongly that it pertained to Thassilon, and promised to meet with me to discuss this find three days ago.
"She never kept that promise — instead, she seems to have simply vanished. Initially, I assumed that the acquisition of this item was simply taking longer than expected, but now I’m hearing rumors that the Sczarni are looking for her as well.
"It seems likely that Natalya has absconded with this item she’s discovered. And this is where you enter, my friends. I want to know what it was that Natalya and the Sczarni found. In fact, I’m more interested in that than in what happened to Natalya herself. For now, I’d like to keep all of this quiet — if you can find out what happened to Natalya without letting a lot of people know she was also working for me as an informant, that would be preferable — that’s a big part of why I’m coming to you with this task. As new members of the Pathfinder Society or outside contractors with no history yet connecting you to the Society, you don’t yet have a reputation in Magnimar, and as such, the lowlifes and criminals you are likely to encounter may be more
likely to talk.
"So... go out there and look for Natalya. Find out what happened to her, and to this item she and her gang discovered. If you can secure the item, all the better — bring it back to me and I’ll have a reward of 500 gold pieces for you. And if you can bring Natalya back alive for me to speak to, I’ll double that!"