GM Fuzzfoot |
A continuation of the ongoing saga of the six seasoned Pathfinders.
Previous episode: First Steps
GM Fuzzfoot |
You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission of utmost importance. Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.
Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.
“Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?” Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.” As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venture captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
Dusklord |
As the assembled Pathfinders prepare to hear their new mission, they are met with a new face.
A gaunt, pale-skinned human wears black robes trimmed with runes. He has sunken, daunting eyes, and his presence can only be described as dreadful. But as he approaches the other Pathfinders, his face splits into a sickly smile.
"Do not fear! As you surely know, I will be joining you today. I am Dusklord! Well, Professor Dusklord...professor of necromatic academia. Though you have surely heard of my past evil ways, rest assured, I have repented of my past. As the stories recount, I was once an 'evil villain,' if you will. I had dreams of controlling vast armies of undead and marching through civilized lands. But lo, my dreams were cut short by the paladin Ethendril h'Caramore...who thwarted me when I commenced a lengthy monologue about my evil plans and gave him time to recover. What a classic trope! Thwarted by the evil monologue...again! In exchange for my life, I promised to mend my wicked ways...and I have!"
He ensures that none of the Pathfinders have turned around to run.
"As my position with the university and the Pathfinders shows, I am now completely reformed...yes I am! I no longer have any desires to raise vast armies of undead minions that will heed my every command...certainly not. I am completely content to teach wet-behind-the-ears apprentice wizards who understand nothing of the importance of necromancy...err...where was I?"
Turning to Dreng, he says "Ah, yes. Retrieve the 'package.' Yes, we will go to this Wounded Wisp and retrieve it. Surely nothing else could occur while we are there, and the best use of Pathfinder assets is in courier duty! I am sure this will prove a relaxing day!"
He assumes a position to the rear of the other Pathfinders. A sickly, almost dead familiar climbs up on his shoulder.
Serak Hamistagon |
Serak gives the newcomer a sideways glance, and a toothy grin.
What an... interesting... fellow.
He then shakes his head and speaks
Welcome, I suppose. Looks like we got more busy work, like last time. At least last time, though, we were able to make it more... fun.
Starling the Swift |
Starling raises an eyebrow at Dusklord's story, then says in a dry voice, "So let me get this straight. You're a reformed necromancer who planned on taking over the world while using massive undead armies, but now you're back to running the simplest errnads for the pathfinders as a reward for your reformed self. Aint life full of surprises?" Taking a few additional steps on their way, she adds, "I'll keep an eye on you, sir, just so you know. They say old habits die hard."
Dusklord |
Dusklord looks Starling over carefully.
"Yes, by all means, keep an eye on me!" he says with a wry smile. "You can be my 'probation officer,' if you will. But surely you believe in redemption, do you not? Or do you believe that no one can change?"
Without waiting for much of a reply, the wizard goes on. "Necromancy is a tool and tools by themselves aren't evil. It is the intent behind the actions. If a wizard throws a fireball at an orphanage, do you blame evocation or do you blame the evoker? If a swordsman decapitates a village elder do you hate the sword or the man wielding it? I say here and now that the study of the flow of life and death are not evil! Would you let your children die rather than have me save them from bandits? If a dragon came to burn down your farm and you knew I had the power to stop it but did not would you applaud my restraint? I think not! You would brand me an evil man by letting evil things happen while I stood by and did nothing!"
Dusklord places a pale, skinny hand to his chin.
"Foolish self-righteousness and hubris will cost people lives. My art helps people. My art makes the lives of the living better. If one stands and decries what I do as evil when what I do is help those who cannot help themselves... then that person is complicit with the suffering of the weak and the downtrodden. Necromancy is not evil, my good Pathfinder. Thought it is certainly the most powerful of the schools of magic, it is a tool like any other."
GM Fuzzfoot |
Well, this should be interesting when Stephani comes back... :)
-Nago- |
Listening to the others talk, Nago chimes in. "While I believe that necromansssy isss against nature, I alssso think that if you are passssionate about it you should feel free to do it, as long as you aren't evil about it."
Nagi, the crocodile, hisses back at the familiar.
Aeleth |
Aeleth grimaces a little at the exchange.
"I personally prefer that the dead remain...immobile... but if they're going to stand between me and the rampaging orc's battleaxe, I will not complain..."
His words notwithstanding, there is a distinct lack of certainty in his voice.
GM Fuzzfoot |
the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
Serak Hamistagon |
Serak grins throughout the magic debate, and then offers his opinion at the very end.
Magic is power. Through power, we can shape the world to our liking. That may well be my dragon ancestor talking, but magic itself isn't evil. It's a tool. It's the wielder that's to blame for whatever foul-ness he brings upon the world. You can either shape the world into something beautiful, to be cherished and kept, or a burning wasteland of death and charred bodies. Or both, depending on the situation.
His eyes gleam that burning crimson color as he speaks, and his teeth just seem more noticeable as he grins. Surely, Serak isn't like most other gnomes, the party is probably beginning to suspect. Obsessive Compulsive like other gnomes, sure, but mostly about the random assortment of trinkets and trophies that he carries around in a pouch on his belt.
Elvik Dimbelt |
Elvik remains silent upon the discussion about magic. And he has nothing to share about the Wounded Wisp's history.
Dusklord |
Dusklord nods as Serak explains his theory of the harnessing and control of magic.
"I see that you understand much more about magic than some of your colleagues. You are very wise. I am sure that we will get along well," the sickly mage says with a twisted smile.
Changing the subject, he says "This 'Wounded Wisp.' It was was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another. Despite our status today as glorified couriers, it is of interest to see this storied building," the wizard says.
"Shall we continue?" he asks.
knowledge history untrained: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Starling the Swift |
Starling listens to Dusklord and the others discuss magic, then quietly adds with a wink, "But I didn't talk about magic and necromancy in general - of course they are tools, just like this sword or my music. You did claim you have attempted to use an undead army, though. On with our mission then - to the bar!"
GM Fuzzfoot |
The Wounded Wisp is located in the Foreign Quarter district of Absalom, close to the grounds of the Grand Lodge. You have no difficulty finding the establishment with the map Dreng provided.
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior of the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern.
The entrance to the Wounded Wisp is a long wooden hallway covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar. You pass a small room with a teen behind a counter, who greets you. "Welcome to the Wounded Wisp. Would you like to check any coats or weapons?"
Feel free to do so, but I will move on in any case...
As you turn the corner, the smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in a more open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
A handful of patrons are already relaxing around the bar, enjoying drink and food and discussions in some cases.
At one table, a halfling lady is regailing stories of adventures to a number of wide-eyed adventurer-types, much like yourselves.
At another table, two half-orcs sit, eating and drinking while making jokes with each other. They seem only barely civilized, although may be friendly enough.
A man sits alone at the bar, looking out into the room. He seems readily approachable as he enjoys his drink.
At another table, towards the back, an older man is sipping from an oversized flagon of ale while reading through a large and ominous-looking tome.
In a corner table, a dirty looking halfling sits with glassy eyes and a huge grin on his face. He looks awake, but doesn't appear to react to anything going on in the room, and doesn't move a muscle as you watch him.
Behind the bar, a women washes mugs, and says "Welcome, guests! I will be with you in just a minute to take your orders."
Starling the Swift |
A bar to my liking... Now let's improve thee atmosphere a bit, Starling thinks to herself and smiles as she goes to the bar and asks for some beer. She takes her mug and moves to a corner which can be seen by as many people as possible. Pulling out her lute, she begins to pluck its strings slowly without playing any recognizable song, simply making herself known to the other patrons. As a few people begin looking at her and even turning their chairs to listen, her tune begins to change into a favorite tavern song, "The Seven Wives of Tom". Getting more attention, she adds her voice and moves flawlessly between other folk songs, including "The Boy and the Dragon", "Under Water", and "The Princess' Marriage", clearly getting into the performance as time moves on and sipping her beer between each song.
Perform(Sing): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
GM Fuzzfoot |
Starling, shall we assume that is your Day job roll?
-Nago- |
Entering with the others, he listens to Starling sing, applauding after each song and more enthusiastically after "The Boy and the Dragon".
Serak Hamistagon |
Serak takes up a position at the bar, climbing up onto a stool and ordering a "fireball", a combination of pepper spices and old law whiskey, which he drinks while watching Starling perform.
Aeleth |
Aeleth wanders over to the halfling woman telling stories.
"One can never have too many stories to retell and embelish," he thinks to himself.
GM Fuzzfoot |
Aeleth overhears the end of a tale of the Pathfinder Society founder Durvin Gest and the fabled Lens of Galundari.
The halfling looks at Aeleth and smiles. "Sit and join us, if you like. I don't believe we have met. I am Janira Gavix. These folks are all recently confirmed Pathfinders." She introduces each one, and pulls a chair out for you.
"Have a drink and share some stories! Or just listen, if you prefer, but we don't bite."
Aeleth |
"Indeed!" Aeleth replies brightly as he takes a seat. "I am looking forward to my own confirmation soon, and I would love to hear what tales you all have to share. I myself have relatively few stories to share, unfortunately, but I hope to change that once I am confirmed as a field agent!"
diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26
GM Fuzzfoot |
"Another Pathfinder! Wonderful!" Janira tells a few more tales, and then says "Please feel free to call on me if you need pointers. I am usually here or at the Grand Lodge, unless I am on an assignment. In fact, I might even be helping with a few confirmations coming up here soon."
At this time, she has nothing really left to offer, but seems sincerely ready to help in the future if you have some need.
Serak Hamistagon |
Yeah, the burn feels good. Reminds you of your own flesh, I think.
Starling the Swift |
GM: sure, it'd make sense for that to be Starling's extra cash for the day.
Starling smiles as both group members and random patrons enjoy her entertainment and plays a few additional songs before taking a well-deserved break and ordering another beer.
Aeleth |
Aeleth listens to Janira with rapt attention, and thanks her for the stories.
"Who knows, you may see me at the next confirmation group you lead!"
Dusklord |
After a while of listening to the songs, Dusklord grows impatient and waves the barkeep over.
"We are here to retrieve a package...do you know where it is?"
GM Fuzzfoot |
"I'll be with you in a minute, dear." The barkeep delivers the drinks she just poured, and then returns.
"Now, what can I do for you?"
You explain about Dreng and his package, and she slowly nods.
"Yes, I know the one you want. It is down in the basement, though, and I can't take you down there until my girl arrives to take over the bar. Here, have a drink, make some new friends, and I should be able to take you down shortly."
Starling the Swift |
More time means more songs, Starling thinks to herself as she begins plucking the strings of her lute following some popular tunes but without accompanying them with her voice.
Serak Hamistagon |
Serak continues nursing his Fireball, but heads of to speak with the two half orcs, his toothy maw in his usual grin.
I'm on a mission, but I have a little down time. You look like two guys who just got done doing something interesting. Wanna tell me about it?
GM Fuzzfoot |
The half-orcs look at Serak, and pull up a chair for him. "OK, little man! If you can drink what we are drinking, we will tell you a story..."
One of them waves over the serving woman for a round of three, and they put one in front of Serak. As it turns out, they are only drinking ale, and assuming Serak drinks at least a sip, they smile and engage in a lengthy conversation.
It appears that they are twins, Garl (male) and Shrade (female), and they are also Pathfinders. They have been members of the Society for the past 3 years, have only traveled on a handful of missions. Their motto is "There’s nothing an axe can’t fix!" However, as you talk longer, you discover that more than anything, these half-orcs want to be recognized for more than their martial prowess, and they look for ways to assist other Pathfinders beyond use of their combat skills.
Serak has made two friends today!
Dusklord |
Dusklord, seemingly having no interest in making friends with the bar's patrons, pulls his heavy spellbook from his bag and peruses it, pointing at a paragraph with a bony finger as he reads.
GM Fuzzfoot |
A girl comes running in from the back door. "Sorry, Miss Gale, I won't be late again!"
"There, there, dear. Don't worry about it. You just take over here at the bar while I show these folks the basement, and I will be back up soon/"
Heryn Gale then waves you all over. "We can retrieve your package now."
After you all gather and Starling takes her final bows, Mrs. Gale takes you to a door that leads to the basement. A set of wooden stairs descends from the main floor into a tightly packed storeroom. Barrels, boxes, and crates of assorted foodstuffs and drink garnishes are pushed against the walls or under the stairs.
Fate: 1d6 ⇒ 6
"Open that door in the back, and head on into the next area. You know, this used to be a meeting room, but we don't use it any more. Be careful, dears. Since the quake of 4649 there have been some damages, and I just haven't had the time or money to get them fixed proper."
Several fissures split the floor, leading down to an equally damaged section of the city’s sewer system. There is a rickety looking plank set across the fissure.
"The bottle you see is in the wine cellar, in that back room."
Serak Hamistagon |
Serak peers into the cellar and runs his hands through his stark crimson hair.
Why keep it all the way back there? Pathfinders sure do like to overcomplicate small things, don't they?
He points at the crevice with the plank over it.
Who wants to walk over that?
Dusklord |
Dusklord peers into the wine cellar.
"I always make it a point to let the burly chaps go first," he says, gesturing for some of the warriors to go first.
Once they do, he follows along.
"Let us find this bottle, then."
He carefully makes his way over the plank, taking his time and making sure he is the only one on it.
-Nago- |
With Dusklord's urging, Nago says "Very well. I will crossss firssst." Taking his time, Nago crosses careully followed by Nagi.
GM Fuzzfoot |
fate1: 1d2 ⇒ 1
fate2: 1d2 ⇒ 2
Nago moves at 1/2 speed, and makes it across, although the plank did feel like it almost snapped.
How heavy is your crocodile?
-Nago- |
I'm not sure. It's a small size I know, but other than that I can't get any real weight for a 3 ft croc. Maybe 75 lbs?
GM Fuzzfoot |
I am not sure how he would get across - but if he is small, we will assume he can.
Anyone else care to try?
Elvik Dimbelt |
Elvik follows Nago and Nagi.
Acrobatics: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4
Lol, it seems he's going to drop down to hell
Serak Hamistagon |
Serak strides across alone, his small frame fitting quite nicely on the plank.