A quick morning walk out of the Hospice takes you through the shade cast by the inner walls, but the sky above is bright and blue. Gav circles back counterclockwise away from Widdershins and then back toward the Warrens and you stop to concentrate on the Shard of Lust every so often. Each time Nalar gets the same vision of the exterior of the city and the Storval Rise and then gets an impulse that makes him want to look below. The impulse is always generically "below" though and after several readings doesn't seem to point him in any specific direction.
Eventually Relan asks Well Nalar Nalar? What are you sensing?
After crossing the city and getting poor results, Braelex shrugs, shaking her head. "To the Augurs?"
Vuloo nods, "It appears that the shard is located in the dungeons below the city. Perhaps the Augurs can give us a specific location. Gav, if you would do the honors, please lead us to these troll diviners."
As Nalar rejoins the group with a dissatisfied look on his face. "Yeah, Vuloo has the right of it. Nothing more that feelings, the shard appears to be contained bellow the city."
Once you decide your destination, Gav claps his hands eagerly, "Right then, back this way!"
He leads you back toward Hospice and explains on the way,
"The Augurs have been on strike recently, not doing any readings due to some conflict with the Ardoc family ... outta Bis, ya know," he casts you a sidelong glance to see if you're paying attention.
"Anyhow, they've been looking for someone to resolve this issue for them, whatever it is, but it appears that no one is willing to risk the ire of the Ardocs. Need someone with no ties or affiliations, eh?"
He darts in and out of the increasingly thick crowd in the lower portion of Hospice and pulls you through to a rathole of a place, aptly named the Sorry Excuse. You recall it from Gav's earlier discussions about places to stay.
Entering the inn and greeting the bouncer with familiarity Gav looks around until he sees what he is looking for and indicates you to follow. The room is filled with people from all over Golarion, from Garundi tribesmen to an Alkenstar merchant to a minor Ustalav noble to what appears to be a Technic League agent!
Gav leads the way to a small wooden table filled with massive mugs of ale. A horrifically ugly troll woman wearing a long red toga with a horizontal slit through the stomach sits watching you thoughtfully.
Gav knuckles his brow respectfully, "Madame Oracle, I present to you Vuloo, Nalar, Braelex, Relan, and Andel ... honorable Pathfinders in hunt of information."
She takes you in with a long, appraising glance and then motions for you to sit.
"My name is Vargun. Thank you, Gav, for bringing these seekers to me. Tell us Pathfinders, why so many of you together and what is it you wish to know?" her voice is clear and articulate, her mannerisms careful, and despite her physical appearance, has an incongruous air of being highly civilized.
Vuloo nervously bows and then addresses the troll, "Yes, well, we're looking for a certain magical artifact, my, eh ... lady. A shard to be specific ... a sihedron shard. We have reason to believe that it is in the city. We are willing to pay for your services. Will you help us?"
Braelex nods as Gav explains. "The Ardocs being a family of artificers that also happen to keep order in their neighborhood with a golem-style fist." She gives the guide a sidelong glance. "There's probably a reason no one wants to piss them off."
At the inn, she smiles at Vargun.
We need you help my lady. Relan adds And we are willing to try to help you in return.
"Ardoc, Ardoc..." Nalar muses before snapping his fingers. "Mortimer Pug, Unselm's friend in Magnimar will pay us handsomely if we could acquire a few pounds of scrap from various Ardoc constructs." He says, reminding the party of the old pathfinder's request.
Nalar gives the troll a perfectly respectable bow and a smile. "As my comrades have said, we would be more than willing to offer our help in exchange for any information a well connected individual like yourself might be able to give in regards to our search for the artifact."
The troll woman nods, apparently satisfied, "I presume the boy has already explained the nature of our organization. While it’s something of an open secret that many of our divinations are, shall we say, more logical than magical, this is not always the case. There are those among us who still retain the old gifts."
She pauses, considering you before she continues.
“My brother Augustille is gifted. His visions are unique and frequently unmarketable, which is why he rarely leaves the temple. Yet someone wants to harness that ability. “The Ardoc brothers are artificers and golem crafters—the most powerful family in Bis. They run everything in that district, and we have long-standing relationships between our factions that must be maintained. Yet one of their younger members—an arrogant little tinkerer named Berkanin—has gone off on his own and arranged the kidnapping of Augustille from the very foot of the temple steps, and holds him hostage even as we speak, ‘studying’ my brother like one of his machines."
She clamps her mouth shut for a moment, suppressing a small rise of emotion. Once composed, she finishes, “The Ardocs have ignored our requests to rein in their rogue brother. We cannot engage them within their own territory, nor can any of our usual agents. But you are different. Bring back my brother, and we will bring you the information you seek.”
I think we can help you as you have guessed right that this is something we excel at. Can you tell us more about where your brother is being held?
Vuloo sighs, "Yes, I suppose we can help. What sort of minions and defenses does Berkanin have in place? Gav, can you take us to the Ardoc's district?"
Nalar purses his lips as he thinks. "If we're going up against what I would assume to be a wizard, who we can expect to have a sizable guard of constructs I may need a day to prepare my spells more efficiently. Will that be acceptable to you?"
"The Ardocs are an insular, mysogonistic family that run their personal lives like a government, and it extends to all of Bis. I'd assume Berkanin is an arcanist and crafter of some sort. His balcony is likely well defended and I'm certain he has allies, he is after all a member of a powerful and wealthy family. People will wish to curry favor with him. All that said, the most dangerous part of your endeavor will be how the rest of the Ardoc family views your intrusion. I suggest your proceed cautiously regardless if you use force, stealth or diplomacy. I'd prefer you didn't free my brother only to have him die at the hands of another family member."
Gav glances at the directions that the oracle writes down and nods, "Yeah, I know the place."
Once away from Vargun, Braelex speaks up. "I doubt we'll have much luck charging into Bis with weapons and bombs flying. I don't know if the Ardoc leaders will give us leave to confront ol' Berk either, but it probably wouldn't hurt to ask, or subtly bribe, for it."
Vuloo nods, "I vote for diplomacy. Let's see if we can reason with the Ardocs."
"I can do diplomacy, with luck we can resolve this like civilized peoples." Nalar says with a grin, looking much more relieved to not be going up against a small force of constructs.
"Ardocs then?" Gav asks with a raised eyebrow. Seeing you serious and set to course, he shrugs.
"Alright then, let's get to it."
Gav leads you once again back toward the entrance you came through, this time turning left (counter clockwise) to enter the fabled Balconies of Bis. An open gate at the northern part of the district guarded by two silent statues who turn and look at you momentarily before resetting and letting you walk past.
The multi-floored structure found in other Ring districts long ago fell and gave way to a single cavernous space, so vast that huddled but freestanding buildings rise several stories into the gloomy, foggy air. Yet it is not the crowded streets or the shocking amount of airspace within the chamber that makes you pause, but rather the fact that the people of Kaer Maga have literally climbed the walls to create more room for themselves, building fresh or repairing outcropping ledges of old masonry to line the chamber with eight stories of towering cliff dwellings.
In need of continual repair due to the strain placed upon them, Gav tells you, the buttressed platforms of the Balconies rise up the eastern and western walls of the chamber like shelving or tree fungus, sometimes protruding hundreds of feet from the walls. While they tend to be small and separated from each other, with each balcony holding a few structures at most, there are generally at least three ledges on any vertical patch of wall, and sometimes as many as five, with the topmost structures brushing the ceiling. The means of accessing these structures vary, from narrow spiral staircases to ladders carved into the chamber wall itself, and the hassle involved in hoisting up any significant amount of material means that, in Bis, the height of one’s balcony frequently reflects one’s wealth and social standing.
"Shades they call 'em, meaning the social status here. Funny, don't think the Ardocs much care. Their government is based on family first, wealth and power second, not social standing."
Gav pauses along the way to touch base with a couple of other teen boys leaning up against walls or lamp posts. They exchange quiet words and in a couple instances, they pass Gav a small piece of paper. He doesn't offer any explanation for these stops and continues on his guiding path without missing a beat or recognizing the interruption.
Halfway through the district he stops at a squat stone fortress of solid stone blocks built in a utilitarian style.
"Ere it is, the Kiln, home of the Judgement Seat and the greatest inventors of our time," he indicates the massive golem-guarded iron doors in front of you.
Vuloo looks on in wonder at the platforms above him and then at the gigantic fortress doors. "Well, do we just knock?"
Relan looks on with interest to what Gav has to say.
As the party passes through Bis Nalar can't help but be awed by the artifice and mind boggling feats of engineering around him. With barely contained enjoyment he ogles the imposing golems, stripping them down to their components in his mind as he imagines their inner workings.
Comfortably leaning against a wall looking as if he has been there his entire life, Gab shrugs, "Dunno, ne'er been inside."
Vuloo shrugs, "There's only one way to find out."
He moves to the door and pounds on it with his fist.
As Vuloo approaches, one of the golem turns its head to track the handling. Once close to the door, a metallic monotone voice issues forth in a plodding methodical manner.
"State your business citizen."
Vuloo nods uneasily at the golem. "We would like to have a word with the Ardocs. We have business to discuss with them."
The golem stares back at Vuloo dispassionately and motionless before it speaks again, this time with a different voice. One with a slight unplaceable accent and an air of boredom.
"The Kiln doesnt open its doors to the average wayfarer. What business could you possibly have that would interest us?"
Nalar steps forward. "We come as emissaries from the Augurs."
RElan's hand plays along his adamantine dagger as he both laments not having a longer blade of the star metal and hopes he does not have to fight these constructed guardians.
"Well that's an interesting turn, you certainly don't sound like trolls. Alright then, come on in. I'll be down to collect you shortly."
The golem reaches over to grab one of the doors and pulls the massive thing open, indicating you should enter.
Beyond is a wide marble atrium, complete with a massive fountain the center of which moves, of course, appearing as if the mermaid-like statue is juggling water.
Plants adorn the alcoves and the walls are covered in art that appears more like engineering drawings. Well dressed servants and smaller constructs move about sparsely from one of the many halls leading out of the atrium to others or even up the spiral staircase on the western side of the large room.
"Hail, emissaries!" A voice calls out as a young man with a shock of unruly blond hair, wearing goggles on the top of his head, long heavy leather gloves, a leather apron and oil-stained tunic and pants comes striding across the floor, his boots echoing loudly.
"Hersin Ardoc," the man introduces himself, gloved hand extended, "Who might you be, then, and why are you here on behalf of the illustrious oracles of the city?"
Relan hesitates, allowing others to speak for the group. He adopts the strong silent type image for now.
Nalar strides forward at the head of the party, smiling he takes the man's hand. "Nalar Tavor, honored to make your acquaintance. The Augurs ask us for help regarding one of their missing kin. Apparently he was abducted by one of your family and we came to see if we could negotiate amicable terms for his release like civilized people's."
"Abducted, by one of us? No, that can't be so, no one would risk the Augur's wrath ... huh, you're serious," he scratches his head thinking a moment and then nods coming to a decision.
"Tell you what, you're in luck. Family council is this morning. I'll get you an audience before the assembled brothers. You're welcome to hang out here until mid-morning or come back in 2 hours. They won't wait if you're late, though. May be best to wait here."
"I guess we might as well wait, then," Braelex shrugs.
"Then we shall kindly wait here for the council." With eager eyes he looks around room, with an admiring look he fixates on each construct to skitter past before focusing on the animated fountain. "A marvelous piece, what I wouldn't give to learn how it was enchanted. I've always had an appreciation for the assembly of constructs and animation of the inanimate." He says, his mind trying to theorize how the fountain moves.
Vuloo will pass the time studying the wall art and observing the passing servants and constructs.
Time goes by fairly quickly with all the interesting distractions. People leave you alone whether out of intent or just distracted focus on their own agendas, one cannot say.
Nalar investigates the fountain and finds it to be a combination of a simple magical golem animating the upper half of the fountain and actual some sort of mechanical water pumping system that shoots water into the air at the right time and then receives it through pipes in the palms of the golem. Ostensibly those pipes run back through the golem itself, but without dismantling the fountain statuary, it's impossible to tell.
Eventually a golem made of wood comes to stand near you and motions for you to follow it. It turns without seeing if you follow and you scurry to keep up.
You head up the stairs spiraling along the side of the atrium to a top level floor with a window up above that appears to open to the sky ... which is odd considering you're encased inside the western wall of the city. A large glass wall enclosed room with a massive round table surrounded by ornate, high-backed chairs is off to your left. The golem takes you through into this area. Hersin is sitting at the table and scurries over to you and shows you all to a set of small, simple wooden chairs on the near side of the room, backs to one of the glass walls.
"Wait here, we'll get started as soon as Merriman arrives. Outside business is one of our first topics, so you can present your case to him ... ahh, us ... then."
You take your seats and scan the room, many men dressed in various styles from robes, to noble finery, to workshop attire talk and partake of food and drink from a small table on the other side. None of them come your way or even glance in your direction. You note they all have similar features like a thin hawkish nose, sharp jawlines and high cheekbones, smallish ears and nearly everyone has blonde or pale hair.
You do note one man that seems a bit out of place. A half-elf, it appears, while everyone else is human. Dark haired with the wide eyes and large sharp ears of his elven heritage, he certainly stands out.
Before you get the chance to inquire much more, a well-dressed man enters the room, wearing red robes emblazoned with gold arcane symbols and a blue overcoat. His neatly trimmed hair and beard are snow white and his weathered face is home to two piercing blue eyes. A mechanical creature of some sort rides in on his shoulders and leaps down as he enters, moving a chair out for the man and setting it back in place as he sits. The rest of the room goes immediately silent upon his entrance and everyone finds their seats.
"Greetings, brothers," the new entrant opens.
"Let us begin this week's Council with a quick tally of present family members before we see to outside business? It appears we have a few who wish to entreat us."
Unlike you'd expect, the men don't actually announce themselves, the small automaton lists off the names of those present, several of the men nodding as their names are listed and then the lists of those not present along with their rationale for not being in attendance. Once complete, the man, Merriman Ardoc, per the role call, speaks again.
"Who sponsors these petitioners today?"
Hersin hops up, waving nonchalantly at the party, a sneer on his face, "Right, Merriman, these folks showed up this morning, said they're from the Augurs (not trolls, though as you can see) and then accused us of kidnapping an oracle. Thought you might want to hear this farce,"
Your "sponsor's" previous demeanor has evaporated and the way in which he presents this tale is rife with venom and obvious disbelief.
Merriman raises an eyebrow, "Indeed."
He then looks at the party expectantly, motioning for Hersin to sit.
Nalar stands, taking a few short steps forward, giving Merriman a small respectful nod of his head. "On the behalf of the Augurs of Kaer Maga we come to humbly request the release of the troll knows as Augstille. The Augurs have reason to believe that he is being held hostage by one of your kin known as Berkanin."
Nalar regards the assembled artificers his gaze settling on Hersin last before he speaks again. "You are all powerful men, your family is respected and it's name carries weight that other lesser families only dream of. Yours is one of the premier names, one of the seats of true power and influence in the anarchy of the city. So to are the Augurs. We hope that you will see that conflict between two of Kaer Maga's factions is only harmful to the wellbeing of the city. And even though you no doubt have nothing to fear from the trolls, ask yourselves what is there to gain by conflict with them? They are not know for great material wealth, and in Kaer Maga territory is only good so long as you can hold it."
"I humbly ask of you all, esteemed men of the Arcane, help us resolve this before blood is shed. In the end cooperation and goodwill are and always will be the bones of peace and security. Thank you for your time."
Nalar sits calmly as Thyrl wraps itself around his shoulders.
"The augurs do not seek a conflict with the Ardoc family, and their requests to have him released from captivity have been ignored. As a show of respect for your authority here, we felt it best to ask permission before confront Berkanin on this matter."
”I’m sure we can resolve this peacefully.”
Merriman and the other brothers are silent while you speak, apparently weighing every word and watching every movement and facial expression. Their intense captivation is almost unnerving.
Once it's obvious you've finished they turn toward the center of the table without a word. Slowly, they all turn their heads bit by bit, sometimes together, and you realize they are focusing their gazes on each brother going around the table clockwise. The silence is deafening.
When everyone looks at Merriman, he holds a grim look and then reaches down to his belt to pull out a wide flat, pearl-handled knife. A closer look, and you realize it's actually a chisel, engraved with some sort of arcane symbols.
Around the table, each brother pulls out a similar chisel, although they are all unique in their shape, makeup and appearance. Several, Hersin's included appear to have some sort of brownish substance stained on them, rust, perhaps ... or maybe blood?
They lay them down all at once, either facing themselves or facing inward. In the end three face out, and the rest (the majority) face inward. Hersin, whose chisel faces out, leaps to his feat, obviously agitated.
"You cannot be serious! I refuse to be a party to this," he spins on his heel and storms out of the room.
Merriman watches him leave with a stony gaze before he rises, hands clasped behind his back and approaches you, stopping several steps away. He paces slowly in front of you and speaks, somewhat reluctantly it appears.
"We've not heard from Berkanin in months, despite several directives from us. As such, we've decided to grant your wish and allow you to negotiate with Berkanin through whatever means you desire. He is holding the Augur at his home, the Hanging Manse, here in Bis. Should you bring him to us in captivity, we'll show you our extreme gratitude. Regardless we shall not interfere with your actions nor act in reprisal against you our the Augurs. However,"
The tall, well tailored man stops pacing and looks directly at you, his piercing blue gaze one from one comfortable in a place of power.
" ... should Berkanin not survive the negotiations, either through your direct or indirect means, or should some accident befall him between now and when we see him again, we will annihilate you, the Augurs and every living member of your family across Golarion."
His gaze lingers a moment and then he dismisses you with a wave of his hand before returning to his seat. As you depart, you hear him address the others, "On to our next piece of business, then? Jorin, please start."
"Well then, that went better than expected," Braelex comments. "I'd really like to know the connection between Berkanin and this Hersin jackass. No doubt he's gone to warn his friend that we're coming."
Vuloo wipes the sweat from his brow, "Well, let's see if we can avoid annihilation. We better find this Berkanin."
Once out of the compound he will ask Gav for directions. "Can you take us to the Hanging Manse?"
Relan, wanting to respond to the threat, bits his lip saying nothing, but makes a personal vow to show this man some manners in the future. The pure evil of threatening to kill innocents if an accident happens is nearly beyond him. Once outside he states his opinions I'd like to see the lot of these striped of power and jailed.
Once outside Nalar releases a deep breath. "Well that went well." He says not no one in particular. "I have no doubt Berkanin knows we're coming and we have to bring him back alive." He sighs, rubs his temples and trudges after Gav. "Life of a pathfinder is never easy I guess."
You return to Gav and ask for his guidance again and as he is accustomed to doing, he asks very few questions and nods, leading you off based on the directions you received earlier and his own knowlege of the city.
Berkanin’s Hanging Manse is situated on the southwestern wall of Bis, a prominent balcony 40 feet above the floor of the district, with no other structures beneath it. From below, all that’s visible is the extensive stone buttressing that supports the massive weight of the complex above. The two most obvious ways up are an arched entrance in the wall leading to an enclosed stone staircase or a complex affair of ropes and pulleys attached to a wooden platform that currently rests on the ground.
Gav stops at this point, "I'm happy to wait for ya 'neath the balcony, but you're on your own at this point. Ain't got no desire to be squashed by something that shouldn’t be moving in the first place."
He sees you looking at him and hastily affs, "But I'm sure you'll be fine, of course."
A single glance from afar and you note a five-foot-wide stairway situated inside the wall of Kaer Maga itself, accessed through an arched opening at ground level whose surrounding stone is perfectly smooth save for many tiny lines or slits carved haphazardly along its length. The stairs wind upward inside the wall toward the Hanging Manse on the wide, buttressed balcony forty feet above.
Resting on the stone floor of the district below the balcony above is a ten-foot-square wooden platform. Thick ropes run from each corner along pillars that rise up to the balcony above. A pair of lattice-like doors sit in the southwestern and northeastern walls of the platform. One corner of the platform holds a small mechanical box with a lever currently set in the down position. A number of gears, counterweights, and other mechanical components is housed within a ten-foot-square hollow stone pillar under the balcony and just southwest of the lift.
Nalar looks up at the manse with an appreciative glance. "Impressive." He says as he weaves some protection from missiles around himself. "Stairs or elevator?" He asks the party, casting Detect Magic on the archway.
4
Confusion
Charm Monster
Wall of ice
Dimension Door
3
Deep Slumber
Heroism
Fireball
Fireball
Magic Circle against Evil
2
Hideous Laughter
Create Pit
Create Pit
*Protection from Arrows*
Mirror Image
Scorching Ray
1
Charm Person
Mage Armor (Cast at start of day)
Mage Armor (Cast at when the first one time outs)
Sheild
Floating disk
Magic Missile
Magic Missile
0
Read Magic
Detect Magic
Light
Prestidigitation
Relan glances at the elevator with a little skepticism.
I have found that stairs seldom fail to operate safely.