Lady Ellsworth. You are resplendent in your well tailored gown. Truly your mind is as quick thinking as you are lovely. As to the ruins, they are recently discovered, so no Pathfinders have yet explored there. What inhabitants my or may not reside there are yours to discover.
As to you tilting her head slightly to address Aryllan. Lady Lanliss. You and your companions will be the first to honor me with venturing to retrieve my families katana.
Standing gracefully, she addresses the group. Lieutenant Toreador seems to have the discussion well documented for further reflection. A prized attribute in any Pathfinder. If his words are as well crafted as his polished appearance, his writings will grace the societys chronicles sooner than later.
Master Stoutanvil seems eager to join in the festivities. I would hate to deprive my guests of his songs and stories, as I am sure they are eager. These affairs can be so full of excess she gives Fernis a nod pleasantries, can they not.
Now please she moves to the door, her slender hand guiding the way stay and enjoy the evening.
Aryllan nods her understanding to Venture-Captain Amara Li. She smiles and stands knowing there is no additional information they can gather at this time.
She says to Fernis, Lets go find some strong ale, and here some legendary Dwarvan toasts. She smiles at the rest of the group. We should the enjoy the hospitality of the Venture-Captain and Snapdragon Festival.
Hearing the sounds of Dwarven toasts and song, an extremely charismatic human male approaches decked out in the military fineries of an Eagle Knight’s ceremonial uniform—a bright blue overcoat with polished gold buttons, gold eagle epaulets, and a fine, black felt tricorn hat. He speaks loudly and confidently, as if he wants the entire gala to “overhear” his conversation with you.
Greetings, Pathfinders! I hear you’re headed out into the Cairnlands on official Society business. Best of luck outside the city walls, though you look like sturdy enough adventurers. Perhaps not Eagle Knight material, but qualified for the work of a Pathfinder. His hand waves in the air, as if inviting the entire room to share in his bravado and humor.
Volta walks out the room to join the festivities for the evening, going for the finer beverages to sample uncommon delights; he encounters the affable but off-putting gentleman. "You have me at a disadvantage, I have no idea what an Eagle Knight is; though it sounds like a profession involving charging off with a warhorse against terrible enemies. I leave such matters to those the gods have seen fit to bestow a greater height upon. I hope you are enjoying the evening, Sir Knight."
Volta continues getting his beverage totally not concerned about his lamentable lack of knowledge of knights, eagle variety included.
The knight squints a look at Volta. hmmm. whaaa Har HAR He bellows in the way one does when entertaining a crowd. He then slaps Volta on the shoulder in a festive manor that causes his drink to slosh about. Colson Maldris. (image) At your service. It's been a long while since I had to introduce myself at one of these function, eh. He speaks to the crowd.
Drawing closer, his tone and mood change. He is now speaking in the practiced manor of a military leader. A word of warning, though, friends. He puts the firm grip of his hand on Fernis' shoulder for emphases. Especially for you, my stout holly warrior. His voice lowers, causing everyone to gather a bit closer to hear. Beware the walking dead. The crumbling ruins surrounding the city are rife with them, and you’re likely to run into more than your fair share over the course of your career. Undeath and the undead are more than just a physical peril, however. Undeath is the worst kind of slavery. And it should be eradicated like all servitude, whether to aristocracy or to mental control. Being enslaved to the flesh beyond when Pharasma calls one’s soul to the Boneyard is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my greatest enemy.
He looks to each of you in turn, as he continues. So while you plumb the depths of Asad’s Keep, remember your solemn duty to your fellow man—both living and dead. Any undead you encounter along the way should be freed of their earthly shell.
In a firm and commanding voice he concludes.
If you prove your dedication to freedom, the resources of Andoran will be at your disposal in your future endeavors.
"Hail and well met, Major. Other thant he undead, have you heard of any other dangers in the area of which we should be aware? I hate being unprepared," Uraisa is riffling through her scrolls, looking for a blank corner of which to jot down some quick notes about the Major's description of the undead.
The major's heads snaps to take in Uraissa. My! Arn't you the vision of loveliness. His voice picks up to a performance level one more. And your dress. . Tis a crime for it to not be seen by others. He takes your hands. Come. He whisks suddenly into an Andoren waltz.
He throws his head back. Haaaaa. Years of experience, my dear. Many an Andoren agent has perished exploring the ruins of the Cairnlands. Twirling Uraisa he addresses the widening circle of onlookers.
The band, having taken notice of the spectacle, strikes up a proper energetic Andoren waltz. With one hand, the major spins, then extends Uraisa to arms length, striking a stunning pose. With the other hand, he grabs a wine flute from wait staff, downs the drink, and tosses the glass into the captivated audience. Ohh's and awes followed by clapping burst forth. He winds Uraisa into a tight waist hold and . . dips. Speaking softly. There looking at you. Dancing with me. How fabulous that must feel.
As the short dance concludes, he applauds Uraisa, then makes a flourishing bow to accept his own well earned gratitude from the crowd.
Nodding at his personal staff, they fit him with his traveling cape, that he flourishes.
Much as the quiet returns after air burst from an overinflated balloon, he is gone.
Stunned into silence, Uraisa looks around the room after the dance concludes. She opens her mouth to respond to the Major, and wordlessly closes it back, unsure of exactly what to say about what had transpired over the last few moments. Earlier in the week, the meek mage would have died of embarrassment. However, after surviving her first missions none the worse for wear, the new, braver wizard barely even blushed.
"Are all Andorans.....like that," she asked Volta, the first of her group she spotted after her prominade.
Volta staggers slightly from the force of the Major's clasp but recovers quickly with his usual grace. He watches, slightly stunned, as the major delivers his monologues on the undead and freedom to a captivated audience. As the major sweeps Uraisa into the dance he starts to wonder.
Is this major an arrogant but well-meaning dandy? OR is this calculated for effect. To the cause of Andoran? To freedom, To something else? Any or all of the above? I wonder ...
No actor is Volta as his expression goes from stunned to blank to appraising.
Sense Motive What's up with the major?
As Uraisa come up Volta transfers his attention to her. In response he says, "I've met a few Andoran pathfinders through the years but never one nearly as ... colorful as that one. I wonder if he is what he shows or if there is a deeper meaning to his panache?"
Volta's gaze then sweeps the assembled guests for any unusual attention being paid to him or his companions.
Perception
Is this major an arrogant but well-meaning dandy? OR is this calculated for effect. To the cause of Andoran? To freedom, To something else? Any or all of the above? I wonder ...
You have a strong hunch the major is not in fact a dandy at all, but rather a calculated leader using every means at his disposal to its greatest effect. As to your other thoughts, you suspect the major takes every opportunity to proselytize for the Andorean cause. Something you suspect he believes in deeply.
Sweeping you eyes across the room, many eyes gaze back in light of the recent display. Of note, one set of dark eyes belonging to a Keleshite male seem to have taken a keen interest in you activities for some time now. Especially those of Robertus.
Robertus grins and stands as Venture-Captain Li ends the meeting, careful to put the closed notepad inside his armor, for safe-keeping. "How could I pass up such an opportunity from such a beautiful and prepared Hostess?" Robertus bows once to Amara before going out and joining the party.
Robertus stays silent during the Major's outburst, unsure of his drunken nature or his true intentions. He does spend drinking slight amounts of wine, only speaking to answer the occasional question. "I doubt it...he may have a bit much to drink."
Arylllan watchs as the major presents himself and then takes Uraisia for a spin on the dance floor. Um, uh - not sure if this guy is just full of himself or if he is as important as he thinks he is. Aryllan thinks to herself.
Aryllan smiles at Robertus' comment. Agreed Robertus.
Uraisa your dancing skills are as good as your Wizard talents Aryllan comments as Uraisa makes her way back to the group.
Sensing Volta watching someone she smiles at Fernis as if speaking to him but addresses Volta quitely. Volta what are you seeing? Is it something we should watch for?
She looks around in the opposite direction.
Perception check
Volta, having sized up the major, is satisfied that he could be an important future contact rather than a problem. Sipping his unique rice wine, unlike anything he has had before, he gaze sweeps over for the dozenth time the Kalashite gentleman; now notes that man has been well placed all eve, to observe his companions, Robertus especially.
"Not drunk, of that I'm sure, and trust that I can tell, from too much experience."
Volta checks out the various glasses and mirrors, unobtrusively keeping an eye on the watchful man. He then turns away from him and positions himself to face both Aryllan and Robertus. Volta arches his brow at Aryllan and says quietly towards her and Robertus, "That's a spectacular display of pink snapdragons, behind me, and without looking directly at him, can you, Robertus, tell me if, the Keleshite gentleman standing between it and the arches, is known to you? Because he has been perfectly, if subtly, placed all evening, to be watchful of all of us, most of all Robertus. Of course his intentions may be benign not unwelcome, or both perhaps, if romance is on his mind." Volta laughs at his little joke but his nod is firm and his eyes serious.
Robertus turns toward the snapdragons, careful to make a show of examining them and smelling them closely, all the while careful to not look at the man behind him. He thinks back, careful to try and recall where he has seen that face...
Taking the ranger up on her offer to a toast he raises his mug and calls on the blessings of Torag and Ragathiel. "Thanks to ye,lass, for having the good sense to make such a request!"
Lieutenant Toreador is accustomed to filtering out the distraction of social situations. Perhaps the rice wine, the wafting smoke of pleasure herbs or the uncharacteristic social activity of the water wizard has effected his senses tonight. Focusing as best he can, Robertus can neither remember seeing, or for that matter not-seeing, his Keleshite admirer.
Aryllan, now alerted to onlookers searches the rest of the crowd. Unlike her military companion, she is not accustomed to these urban social gatherings and is unable to discern much from observing the festive throng.
Turning back to Volta, Robertus grins. "I must agree, I have never seen such a spectacular display of Snapdragons, Volta." Lowering his voice so only those nearby can hear, Robertus's tone changes to something a bit more serious. "I don't recognize him. Maybe he is curious at how someone of my rank got invited?"
"I don't recognize him. Maybe he is curious at how someone of my rank got invited?"
Prehaps with all this attention being paid to the snapdragons, a bit of skill may be in order.
Let's see how well he can check you out checking him out.
Bluff check please for any and all observing by not observing your Keleshite admirer.
Bluff
Volta replies to Robertus quietly, "Perhaps so, it could well be nothing extraordinary, on the other hand there are those who follow Pathfinders to take the fruits of success without the work. Hard to say."
Volta drinks to the toast given by Fernis, "Thanks for the blessings, godspeaker, I've heard of Torag of course, but know little of Ragathiel. I follow the ways of the Holy Drunk myself but I'd like to hear how your devotion came about, if you would not find that prying, Master Stoutanvil"
With that twisted one's curses it's best I keep on good terms with all the gods possible, and I should know my companions better.
Aryllan watches as Robertus inspects the Snapdragons, and smiles. She turns to Fernis as Volta asks him "to hear how is devotion came about." She looks down at Fernis' & Volta's glasses, and her smile widens. You can not tell a story such as that without a full glass.
She smiles and takes Fernis' & Volta's glasses. As Robertus returns from his inspection of the Snapdragons, she tells Uraisia to grab his glass as well as she walks backwards towards the Keleshite. She winks at Volta, hoping to get the timing just right. As she pasts the Snapdragons she turns on the ball of her foot and bumps into the Keleshite admirer.
Bluff Check
I am so sorry. She looks into the Keleshite's face. Looking to determine if she recognizes him. She smiles, the best diplomatic smile possible. Please let me get you a drink for my clumsiness.
Always happy to enlighten any non-dwarf on dwarf related issues, Fernis begins to relate his tale, "Volta I am more 'an happy ta let yeah know of this atypical devotion to one of the non-dwarven gods. Ragathiel is the Five Winged lord of vengeance and duty an' it just so happens every dwarf canna appreciate that. But fer my clan it was the aid he we received from him an' ol' Torag in a pitched battle against a horde of greenskins. Just when things looked their bleakest Torag fired up his forge. Sparks from his anvil rained down upon their slobberin' heads and from his forge came a great bastard sword. HE cast the thing from his to that of a waiting Ragathiel who promptly set upon the amassed scum. Rendin' a great hole in their lines we followed suit. From that day on. Every house supplies one son or daughter to the lord fer his aid that day. Tis' why we carry his sword combined with the holy hammer of great Torag." Sitting back a bit a and stroking his beard, he adds "Duty and Vengeance, boy, duty and vengeance."
Uraisa followed closely behind the ranger, with both glasses, not sure of Aryllan's intentions. As she bumps into their secret admirer, the plan became more clear. The mage observes the interactions, making sure nothing untowards occurs.
Aryllan bumps into the well dressed Keleshite man with Uraisa a pace behind.
A drink will not be necessary, daughter of the woods. Looking towards Uraisa, Lady of the water. I am Trade Prince Aaqir al'Hakam.
Like a fast-spoken djinn, I’ll get to the quick. I know where you are going. House Damaq of Qadira claim the ruin, but we are willing to allow you access for the price of a small deed easily accomplished during your adventure. You will be well-compensated, I assure you, for profits are most rewarding when shared. I assume treasure-seekers like yourselves are interested in such a proposition?
The Trade Prince nods to a quite corner, then towards you companions, indicating his wish for a private conversation with your group. Without waiting for an answer, he turns and travels to that rendezvous point and waits.
"Are we the only people here that aren't completely aware of everything else that is going on in Golarion?" Uraisa asks Aryllan. "I'm starting to get sick and tired of being pulled like a marionette by everyone here."
Aryllan shakes her head and laughs at Uraisa's comment. I totally understand feeling like a marionette. I don't think we have the big picture yet. But I can think a few other questions for the Venture Captain.
Aryllan catches the rest of the Party's attention and nodes toward the corner. She follows the Prince, looking forward to hearing what his proposition is.
Robertus shrugs. "Soldiers in the front never get to see the big picture. We can only hope command has their head on straight." With that said, Robertus wanders over toward the corner, taking out the notepad from where he stashed it, so he might take notes.
As your group approaches, you take in the well dressed, tan skined Keleshite Trade Prince named Aaqir al"Hakam. His posture ridged and eyes intent as you arrive.
He addresses Robertus. Lieutenant, the ruin your detail will reconnoiter is Qadiran, which is why we claim it, and we are willing to defend it, but there are really only certain things left in Asad’s Keep we are interested in: trade agreements, of which we believe there to be many within the ruins. All we ask that you do is to turn over all trade agreements you find to us as soon as you return to Absalom, as we will be able to hold the signers to them even centuries after their signing. The satrap of Qadira—nay, the entire Padishah Empire of Kelesh—has much to offer the Pathfinder Society, and I personally have no qualms about sharing those resources with you, specifically.
Shall we shake on this agreement
Aryllan listens as the Prince describes the deal.
Your Highess, a few questions before we agree. Aryllan smiles as she continues.
Where to expect we would find these trade agreements? Can you provide a map of the keep before they became ruins? And what else can you tell us about what to except there?
Robertus pauses in his writing as he looks up at the Keleshite. "If these Trade Agreements are so important to Padishah Empire of Kelesh, why not go get them yourself? What is preventing you from returning and getting them at your leisure?" Robertus's tone is not disrespectful, but very straight forward.
Earlier...
"A fine line I see there, vengeance can consume duty if taken too far. A difficult and narrow path is yours -" Volta breaks off as Aryllan's ploy opens a new event. "It appears our duties as Pathfinders calls us now, I hope to hear more of this later, I'm sure will have time on the road." He leans over and whispers to Uraisa. "We're too new to be players yet, it'll be a while before we can take a knife to the strings, Uraisa." Volta follows the others after the Trade Prince.
... now.
"Trader Prince, I'm reluctant to make promises in a situation we know so little of without consulting our Venture-Captain. Even with my very limited knowledge, it occurs to me that if you find value in these trade agreements being found, there must be others that would have equal or greater incentive in making sure they never see the light of day again. If I'm to jump into a fire, I'd like to at least know if it's camp-sized or a bonfire." Volta is also straight-forward in his request for the catch.
What's his game? Most of all, what isn't he telling us?
Once again Volta sizes up a guest.
Sense Motive
”. . . Can you provide a map of the keep before they became ruins? And what else can you tell us about what to except there?”
If only it were possible. In the time it takes my messenger to sail from this island to my desert home in Katheer, have sages scour the ancient library and return, you will have completed this mission and shall likely be well into your next.
Katheer from Absolam"If these Trade Agreements are so important to Padishah Empire of Kelesh, why not go get them yourself? What is preventing you from returning and getting them at your leisure?"
Do you toy with me? Certainly a leader such as your self will not allow your detail to leave behind such a valuable treasure. Your charge is to return it to you sponsoring Venture-Captain under normal circumstances. This is not the case Lieutenant. They rightfully belong to Quadira. I see you as a man to do what is right. Do I read you incorrectly?
. . . it occurs to me that if you find value in these trade agreements being found, there must be others that would have equal or greater incentive in making sure they never see the light of day again.
Sense Motive 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Volta recognizes that Aaqir al’Hakam is a deliberate man whose attitude, while brusque, is not directly hostile toward your group or the Pathfinder Society. Nevertheless, it’s clear that he is unaccustomed to hearing the word “no.”
After the Snapdragon Festival winds to a close and you leave it, there is the opportunity to purchase any equipment you may desire before you head into the Cairnlands the following morning. While it may be very late at night, a city the size of Absalom never sleeps, and nearly anything your characters level can afford can be found at any time of day or night. Returning to the Grand Lodge to bed down for the night, you are free to make your own preparations for the task at hand before heading out in the morning.
Volta, upon his return to the lodge, arranges for his black leather armor to be secured in the armory, and his ring placed in secure storage. He then retires for the evening after laying out his most serviceable if slightly worn outfit.
It's be nice if I had a bit of coin to spend on some rations for the road, but as not, I'll pick up work somewhere along the way.
Dodging my question, as I thought, some of those papers are to his disadvantage. He wishes to pick and choose his fate but that doesn't concern me. How will we be harmed by this arraignment does.
"I can promise that we will bring this to our Venture-Captain's attention, Robertus would you be so kind as to leave a note for our gracious host? I see little difficulty in returning legal papers to their rightful owners but I do not wish to offend anyone in Qadira through ignorance on my part. Understand this will be the first time off this island without my parents so I am a little nervous." Volta smiles wryly as he confesses what is true and to his advantage.
Later with group.
"The Trader Prince is not hostile to us but he does expect people to accede to his wishes. I just wish I knew the situation better; I think I would have sensed deliberate treachery but a man can sincerely believe himself to be in the right and yet others disagree. I doubt if anyone has said no to him since childhood. On the other hand we may have no reasonable choice."
As they walk out of the Lodge Aryllan says, Urasia I think you are right about being pulled by the strings, but I also think they would do it even if we knew everything there is to know. I think it is more politics than puppetry.
Flashback:
Current:
". . . However, all I want to know is what has taken up residence there. If you don't know, then say so."
Direct. I respect that. I do not know what resides there.
". . .Robertus would you be so kind as to leave a note for our gracious host? I see little difficulty in returning legal papers to their rightful owners. . .
I feel this matter is best left between us. We are men of action, not politics.
At his point, Aryllan and Uraisa take their leave to prepare for the expedition. Leaving just the men to continue the discussion.
A porter arrives to escort you to the dining hall. A robust breakfast of fresh biscuits, hot meats and steaming porridge await all Pathfinders and guest in attendance this morning. A small table awaits the group with mead, ale, juice and water. A small scroll delivered from the Lantern Lodge has landmark based direction to the keep. On a nearby wall is a map of the Isle of Kortos. It shows Asad's Keep is north north-west of Absalom within the jagged foothills of the Kortos Mountains about a day and a half's march.
Departing in the cool morning air with full gear packs and freshly maintained arms, you find travel to the site to be arduous; the terrain is rocky and marred with the scars of millennia of wars, making it thirsty work for you to get to your destination. Fortunately you encounter no resistance. Upon dawn the following morning the directions have lead to a small gully; at the end of it is a cliff wall.
At the end of the gully, about fifteen feet above the ground on a cliff face, is an ancient, ironbound door. Its wood is dried and cracked. Directly in front of the door is a steep slope of rubble and dust-crusted debris that, as luck would have it, provides a path—albeit a rough and difficult one—right up to the door.
You are about sixty feet from the entrance when you first spot it.
The terrain ahead is difficult and cluttered.
Everyone please provide a perception check of the area.
Perception Check:
Perception
Volta looks over the terrain. Not liking what he sees he also studies the sides and end of the gully to see if there are alternatives such as going around and descending from above the entrance.
"Rough path, does it seem unstable to anyone?"
Feeling at home in the wild.Fernis seems in much better spirits than at the ball. "Ah, what a fine way to be spendin' a day.", he calls to his partners.
Feeling at home in the wild.Fernis seems in much better spirits than at the ball. "Ah, what a fine way to be spendin' a day.", he calls to his partners.
Aryllan smiles at Fernis' comment. She understands the connection with nature the Dwarf is expressing. She takes a deep breath preparing herself for what lies ahead.
Bravo! Huzzah! Well done!
It's so satisfying as a GM when a player(s) figures out one of the fiddley plot points just from in-game dialogue alone.Here is your reward. A free Knowledge:History check even thought you dont have that skill. Perhaps you overheard your parents negotiating about something similar with a client once.
The trade prince's legal statements are somewhat dubious. Few houses try to protect any claims within the Cairnlands as such claims are notoriously difficult to uphold and enforce. Still, if any house could do it, it would be House Damaq.
It seems he did not expect the greenhorn youth faced rogue to pay such close attention to the subtleties involved.
The door, sixty feet ahead, looks revealed by a recent rockslide.
Areas of flat rock and wind-blown pillars of sandstone stand 10 feet off the ground would need to be climbed over. The walls of the canyon are 20 feet tall. Climbing the debris pile requires a successful climbing skills as well. There seems to be no path that would not be difficult to traverse.
Through the morning fog Aryllan and Frenis spot the outline of an humanoid figure scramble across the cliff top before preparing to leap down in front of the door.
Sense motive
Unsure as to if this is an enemy a guardian of the Ruin or another Pathfinder, Aryllan decides not to wait to find out if it means them harm.
She not notches the arrow and lets it fly.
Attack wit bow
Damage
Back again among nature and the wilds Aryllan's skills with a bow return. Tracking the unknown creature she looses an arrow catching it mid jump in the thigh. The creature lands, standing bent and crooked.
Fernis uses his knowledge of religion to determine it's true nature before deciding on a course of action.
All he can sense is that it is an undead. A ghoul.
Landing on the freshly disrupted ground before the door, head cocked to one side and crouched in an disfigured pose, your hear it's voice. A female voice speaking in common. Not the gibberish of the undead.
How long will it take you all to cure, I wonder? You seem so full of life, and I am oh so hungry.”
Teh mage was surprised by the quick arrow fired by the ranger. Before she could ask a question, she heard the strange voice from the creature. "Leave us be, foul creature, or we will be forced to dispatch you."
Init.
"Watch yourselves. That thing is of the walking dead an' packs a fearsome bite."
Drawing his sword and shield the cleric readies himself for battle.