You all await the main event of the day, when over a hundred members of the Pathfinder Society will join others at the Irorium in celebration of the city’s first military victory and its freedom, called the Passion of the First Siege of Absalom.
Coincidentally, the lot of you have all been assigned seats together, so determine it's best to share a cold one and get acquainted as you expect there's a good chance you'll be sharing future missions together.
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Kel strides up to the designated seating area, and gives the selection of spirits a once over, muttering to himself.
Gotta remember to see about that Elven stout. Seems to be moving well enough here. Just have to get Nirwen to give me that discount...
He eventually orders a simple dwarven ale and drops his traveling pack to the ground. He re-positions the two rapiers on his belt to a more comfortable seating arrangement, and lounges back.
Oy mates. Name's Kel Na' Yaa, owner of The Laughing Lizard. Remember it if you're ever in the Ascendant Court. Pathfinders get the good stuff, and at better prices.
His leather adventuring outfit sometimes shifts to reveal his fine chain shirt underneath, and his bandoliers are full of vials and other alchemical items, including smoke pellets, smokesticks, and a healing potion. Belt pouches hold other healing reagents and weapon balms.
He sighs, and pulls on his ale.
So, where'd you lot just come from? I just got done rescuing a gnome from a nasty lot of undead led by a foul witch. I swear, if I see another zombie, I'm buying a wand of fireball and having a friend show me how to use it.
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There is an elven woman sitting here already, quietly, with a white rabbit asleep on her lap. She's trying to work around the animal, stringing what appear to be beads of glass onto a string of copper wire.
She smiles at Kel's words. "A wand of fireball would be very expensive," she informs him politely. "A wand of disrupt undead might be more economical. Although I will grant, not as flashy."
The elf is very pale, with blue eyes and hair so blonde it's almost white. Her practical robes are blue and fringed with white fur; a carved wooden scroll box is tied at her belt.
"I am... named Taika," she says after a slight hesitation. "Most recently I was in Absalom itself, on a mission of diplomatic sensitivity within the Chelish embassy. Could you tell me more of this elven stout you are seeking?"
She carries on stringing the glass beads throughout, interspersing them with tiny rings of gold.
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WHUMP
Road dust fills the air as a heavily-laden double pack hits the table top. Through the dust, a tall Varisian looks at the two Pathfinders.
"Taika. Kell." He smirks, "I'm Jal."
You couldn't ask for a more stereotypical Varisian mercenary. Dark clothes, colorful flourishes, traveling boots, and a riotously-colored kapenia around his neck. You also couldn't ask for more tattoos on a single body; it looks like a not-so-small fortune has been spent to decorate the man's skin. Quality stuff, too. Only things that seem to stand out are his hints of Elven heritage and the beautiful Tian blade across his back.
His gray eyes watch you watch him, then he fishes in his pack ... coming away with a stein and a deck of cards before lounging down in one of the chairs. With a quick signal to a server for some drink, he shuffles the cards a few times, looking first at Taika, then at Kell.
"Elven stout, huh? You don't see many round ladies among the fair folk, but every guy has his tastes, right?"
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The rabbit in Taika's lap quivers awake at Jal's emphatic entrance, and Taika grabs the white-furred lagomorph by the scruff of the neck before it can bolt, soothing it with soft murmurs. She turns a belated smile on Jal... that fades when she catches sight of his mildly pointed ears. The nod she offers is polite but distant.
"Jal," she repeats. "You are correct. Everyone has their tastes."
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Taika blinks slowly at Jal. "Have you some dice? There is a game played in my tribe called Sun, Moon, and Stars..."
She describes the rules; to the others it may be more familiar as Ship, Captain, and Crew.
Taika sets her beads and wire to one side and picks up the five dice that Jal is no doubt able to provide from somewhere. "I will demonstrate. First, I must roll a six, the Sun."
She indicates one of the two sixes rolled, and plucks it out, setting to one side, then removes the five from the pool as well. "That was fortuitous-- there is my Moon as well. Now I must attempt the four stars of the compass."
"Ah, luck continues to favor me. Here is my stars." She takes out the four.
"Whatever is left on my remaining pips is extra points- I could stop here, with the two threes, but I shall try and improve with my third, and last, roll."
Taika smiles a small smile. "I have completed sun, moon, and stars, and have eight points beyond. You may try your own luck."
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”Ah. Ship of Fools,” Jal says with a wry smile, ”Lady Luck’s own game.”
He continues lounging as he watches her dice throws play out, raising his eyebrows as Desna smiles on Taika. ”Nice. Somebody’s banked some good karma.”
He scoops the dice up, then holds up both fore-arms, where beautifully-stylized tattoos of Desna and Calistra rest opposite each other. ”Now let’s see who's bed I woke up on the wrong side of.”
He rattles them for a few seconds, then tosses.
"I shall call her Taika's Bane," he mutters playfully as he slides the 6 to the side.
Then gathers the rest up, repeating the process.
"Apparently the Captain of the Bane had too much to drink last night."
He scoops them up with gusto, rattling them out one more time.
As they come to a rest, not a 5 among them, Jal shakes his head ruefully. "Callistria, you b!tch." He winks at Taika, takes a long pull from his stein, and slides the dice to Kel.
"You want in, Burner-of-zombies?"
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Kel chuckles.
A dice game, mate? Of course I'm in. And stout is a type of alcohol, my friend. There's an elf contact I have in Kyonin who runs a small brewery, best Elven Ale and Stout you can find, but he charges out the rear, see? He owes me a favor now, though. I sold a, ah... "sensitive" item for him a while back, so maybe now I can get it at a price that won't run the Lizard out of business!
The swordsman laughs, and then rolls the dice.
"Burner of zombies", eh? I prefer "Guy that stabbed that dragon thing in the desert to death", but I can sail with that!
He plucks the 6 out, and smiles.
Cayden is kind to me this day, mates...
He laughs out loud again and plucks out the 5 and the 4 out, and grins to Taika.
Cayden is watching again, I see.
He laughs as the last two dice come up as 3's, and puts them in the middle of the table.
A close roll, milady, but it seems your luck was better than mine! Maybe next time.
He takes a long pull of his ale and looks out over the crowd.
A couple of dwarves, apparently Pathfinders themselves, but grouped differently look over at the mention of stout, spot Taiki and Jal alike and shake their heads.
You can just barely make out their own conversation over the din of the crowd - being dwarves and all they have little ability to moderate their volume in a drinking hall.
"Ha! Ye 'ere tha' Feargus? Elven stout! Pffffff... from Kyonin! Ah betcha 't tastes like tea!"
The dwarves don't appear antagonistic, they're just making their own conversation and quickly wave their hands dismissively seeming to suggest they prefer the conversation of their own table.
Still sitting at the table with Taika, Jal and Kel are the "silent trio" who have yet to make introductions or express their opinions on games of chance, stouts or ales.
The first, a woman, appears mostly human but possesses something of an otherworldy beauty. A worn but well-tended deck of cards flits about her hands showing she is well practiced in their use.
The second, a dwarf, drew looks from his kin at the far table (were they pity?) but he appears well equipped, carrying a bow, hammer and shield.
The third and final, a human male, bears inquisitive eyes beyond his lengthy brown hair. A book of prayers accompanies what appears to be a wicked scythe in his possession.
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”And stout is a type of alcohol, my friend.”
”I don’t know,” Jal says jokingly, as he watches Kel’s dice play out. ”Full body. A good time at the bar, but a headache the morning after? Sounds like a bhean spraoi to me, cara.”
He shakes his head at Kel’s luck with the dice, and is about to respond when the dwarves interrupt.
”Hey, Kel, I think your elven brewer friend has a couple of fans.”
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'I have a feeling that some divine voice has already introduced me to these ladies and gentlemen. I wonder why? Kalinahat, is that you, my Mistress? Or am I dreaming?'
A man dressed in a plain gray monk robe sitting quietly at the table and listens to the conversations around. However when he reaches out for a drink you can see that under the robe he wears an expensive light chain mail.
'Hm. Nice tattoo on that guy. Detailed. I hope in battle he is more fortunate than in the dice game.'
He has quite not a lot of equipment - only a short sword, a small bag and a compact prayer book. He has piercing green eyes, brown hair and medium length beard of the same color .
"Good evening, fellow pathfinders. Sorry that I refuse to play. Don't love the excitement of this kind."
He smiles, but the expression of the eyes - cold and clingy, like a hungry beast before a sudden blow - does not change. He smiles only with his lips, a special friendliness in it is not felt. It's not like that it applied to you personally. Rather, he looks so into the whole world, dividing it into a tool for his goals and what he will destroy in the name of a higher purpose.
"My name is Kaleb. Kaleb Vesperra. At your service."
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Kel laughs and calls out to the dwarves.
Don't worry mates, I have something for everyone at The Laughing Lizard! I carry a Five Kings Mountains' Clan whiskey that'll take the lining off your stomach!
He chuckles again at Jal, and nods.
Aye, that's the right of it! Been on the receiving end of that more times than I can remember...
When the simply dressed man finally speaks, Kel smiles.
Well met Kaleb. I hope you find merriment today, in some form or another. A fine day like this is good to waste on being bored!
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A Varisian looking woman with dark red hair sits off to one side at another table. She's partially paying attention to the others as they talk and play games of chance. She puts most of her focus on the Harrow cards in front of her as she finishes memorizing her spells stored withing the magical cards. She stands and walks over to join the group.
"I do not use up my good luck in games of chance. I find that it is a commodity to spent wisely rather then frittered away for mere entertainment." she has a playful grin on her face like a person enjoying their own private joke.
"Greetings to you fellow pathfinders. My name is Jessamina Anghelescu, but you may call me Jessa if you wish." she ends her greeting with a exaggerated bow.
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Jal nods his greeting to Kaleb, shrugging away the man's poor choice of not joining their game. He grins along with Kel, and scoops the dice up for a second round.
He rattles them out.
"Nice of you to show, Captain," he says as he slides the 6 and 5 aside, "the Bane is ready to set sail."
"Welcome aboard, me mateys," he says to the 4 in a terrible pirate accent, "but ye have a crappy cargo."
He grins, "Much better." And he slides the dice out for Taiko or Kel.
Then he sees Jessa. "You Varisian? You'd be a right striking Varisian woman." He grins, a crooked thing. "I like striking women."
"... wait ... that came out wrong."
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Although her family's Angelic heritage has been watered down over the years, Jessa still has some strong clues showing that she isn't quite as human as she first appears. She has stunningly bright golden yellow eyes and her skin is almost albino it's so unaffected by the sun's rays.
"I was born and raised in Sandpoint, as were many generations of my family. I am also most certainly woman, though I personally tend to leave the striking to others."
She looks at Jal and smiles with confidence that suggests that she has a different kind of power at her command that is less physical but just as useful as strong muscles and a sharp blade.
"If any of you wish for a demonstration of my skills I would be happy to read the Harrow for any who wish to know what the future holds."
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The quiet old dwarf stirs from his meditation to order dwarven stout ale. "the ancestors believed competition to be a noble form of camaraderie. I shall endeavor to live up to their example."
Rogar collects the dice quietly, closes his eyes and allows the wind of fate to blow.
He nods solemnly at the results, and rolls again.
"As the forefathers say, it may just not be your day."
He plunks down the gold coin for the round and sits back smirking.
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Taika smiles quietly at the winning of the first round, and settles in to listen to talk of elven stout.
"I have not tried this elven-brewed stout. I was told Kyonin was mostly known for its wines. But I suppose there is no particular reason that my southern kin cannot also brew from hops and barley as well as wines and fruit."
Jal has a much better second run at the dice. Taika purses her lips then picks them up to see if she can beat the half-elf a second time.
"Luck has turned in your favor," she says to the Varisian with a shrug. "I cannot even manage a ship, this time."
To Jessa, she says, "I would be honored to see the reading you perform."
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Jessa takes her harrow cards and protective mat out of on ornate case and lays the mat on the table in front of her. She shuffles the cards with care but with a speed that comes from years of practice. When she's finishes she starts to lay the cards out in sequence as she explains their meaning to Rogar and anyone else listening.
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Kel smiles and throws the dice, and chuckles as two sixes come up. He slides one of them to the side.
Cayden is kind yet again, my friends. Or I'm just lucky. I never can tell...
His smile turns into a grimace at the second roll, and then he laughs again.
And how quickly such luck turns sour, mates! Proof that we should always enjoy the good things while we have them, because they can disappear as quickly as they come!
His third roll is much better, and he counts out his points.
Ah, seven points. Only one behind you Jal. Close game indeed.
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Activity from outside catches Jal's attention, and he quickly scoops his dice back into their cup and tosses them into his pack. "I think things are just about to get interesting," he says as he separates a slightly smaller, but far better made, pack from his travel bag.
He stands and throws the smaller pack onto his shoulders, checking to make sure everything hangs comfortably. "Maybe we'll finally see what this shindig is all about."
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Taika gets to her feet, scooping the rabbit into a little satchel that seems designed for the purpose of rabbit holding, and grabbing all her wire and beads as well to safely tuck away inside a bag that is bigger on the inside than the outside.
She sticks with the others, interested to see what the day's spectacle will hold. "Does anyone know much of this tradition? I am told there is to be a mock battle?" she says as she settles into a seat in the Irorium.
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Kel shrugs.
I'm sure there'll be plenty of rousing tales of heroism and dashing heroes. Lots of talk about how great Absalom is, and more political undertones than you can shake a stick at, Taika. I just hope none of that gets in the way of the fun.
The thief hoists his pack as well, settling his rapiers and adventuring pouches, giving her a wide grin.
That being said, the last time I came to one of these shindigs it all went to hell pretty quick, so this time I came prepared.
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"I agree with you, Kel. I already was once in such a situation. It was also a holiday, here, in my hometown too. And it all ended in a real massacre. You know, a lot of people - a lot of opportunities for sabotage."
Kaleb sighs.
"...let them be in peace and heavenly harmony the souls of those who did not survive that day... "
He looks at his comrades and adds with a crooked smile:
"No, I'm not always so glum. I just have a really bad feeling. But in the name of all Empyreal Lords, let my feeling be false! And now - go!"
He moves forward, on the move, making a complex gesture with his hand and blessing the people around: one on luck, one on health, one on a good mood, one (especially drunk) on hangover will be not so strong and so on.
With discussions and predictions of what is to come addressed, you thank your server and make your way through the streets towards the Irorium.
Soon, a lean-faced man hiding behind a long cowl slips alongside.
"A moment of your time,” he says and pulls you aside, into the shadows of a nearby alley.
“It seems we have two things in common, an eagerness to participate in good celebration, and this…”
He punctuates his sentence by holding out an elaborately carved wayfinder, the type only granted to Pathfinders of great importance.
“I assure you, its mine,” he adds quickly, closing the device and tucking it back into the folds of his cloak with a quick, easy motion.
He then, like most Pathfinders of any importance upon meeting them, breaks into a brief but detailed monologue detailing a personal request.
“I know a good number of you are already planning to attend the festivities this evening. I need but a casual favor. An old associate of mine, Charvion Eater-of–Bones is set to make an elaborate display of some artifact he claims to have recovered. I’ve not had contact with him in a year or so, and I’ve a curious feeling about the event. More I cannot say; however, I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on whatever stunt he’s considering. He’s a natural charlatan that one. Just keep an eye out is all—nothing serious. Don’t let him know that you’re watching, and do not approach the artifact during the showing. Most importantly, tell no one of this conversation.”
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Jal regards the near-legendary Pathfinder for a moment. "Osprey," he says by way of a greeting.
He’d met the man in a dive what seemed a lifetime ago, and it was whispered that the man’s appearance rarely meant anything easy or straight-forward. Still, he nods along.
”Eater-of-Bones, huh?” he mutters, ”Thats sounds promising.”
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Kel smiles at Osprey's appearance.
Osprey! I haven't seen you in the Lizard since you came and asked me to... err... take care of that thing. I was beginning to think you'd disappeared.
His smile fades as the request is made, and he lets out an exasperated sigh.
Well, this fellow certainly knows how to garner attention. I haven't even met the man and I already think his name is dumb. Very well. I'll keep an eye on him. What of the artifact? What should we do about it? Especially if it turns out to be some kind of world-ending-maniacal-bid-for-domination type device?
Osprey didn't even meet Jal's eyes.
"Jal."
Then, the druid just casually glanced through Kel as if he were incorporeal to acknowledge the swashbuckler. He tossed his long bangs back from his face, relishing in the dramatic effect it gave before parting with a long sigh.
"Hhhh... what do you think you should do if it's some sort of world-ending device, Kel?"
The look Osprey gave to Taika and Jessa was clear as a standard issue spindle ioun stone - Can you believe this guy?
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Osprey sighs again, louder the second time.
Too "Os-some" to let anyone get to him, he pivots on his heel and darts back into the shadows of the alleyway without a single additional word spoken.
Moments later, a small bird of prey glides out from the same street into the overcast sky.
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Jessa keeps silent as the strange man speaks to Jal and Kel.
This human seems a strange one. I hope his suspicions are WAY off on this one. I'd rather the world kept going quite a while longer!
Before she has a chance to speak the man is gone.
"Well that was... unexpected. This artifact could be very dangerous in the wrong hands. I hope this Charvion isn't the wrong hands!"
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Taika arches a brow as Osprey flies away. "He does not seem personable," she observes. "Well, if it is possible there will be some 'stunt' at this event..."
She fishes out a wand from her pack and taps herself with it, causing a momentary blue-white light to appear around her for a moment before it fades.
"Eater-of-Bones seems like an uncommon name in the Taldane," she observes before they resume walking.
Taika, however, knows a little more about Charvion, essentially that he recently discovered some Azlanti artifact that potentially would allow the wielder to commune with the spirits of the dead... the same artifact that he is apparently planning to unveil at today's celebration in the Irorium.
Guests alike make their way down the street towards the Irorium where the cacophonous din of over a hundred conversations begins to overwhelm your senses.
The Irorium has five public entrances, the main gate and four side gates. A sixth gate to the south is a work entrance reserved for gladiators, arena workers, and other performers.
You make your way through the main gate - your tickets indicating you have general access to any seats that are available on the mezzanine level. Here, a 20-foot-wide stone arch opens onto an equally wide marble stairwell that descends out onto the street.
There are three main levels of seating here - field seats, the mezzanine and the terrace.
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As she makes her way to their seats, Taika says aloud, "I think I have heard something of this Charvion after all. He found an artifact of old Azlant itself... a tool for speaking with the dead." Taika's voice is slightly disapproving. "Most likely he intends to show this off at the Irorium. Hopefully all will go smoothly."
Taika says something then in Elven, seemingly to herself as it's not pitched at a conversational volume.
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Kel shrugs at Osprey's attitude and exit as a bird.
Well mates, I'd be surprised if everything went according to plan. Hopefully this fellow isn't out to start trouble. I'd rather hoped for an easy day today.
As he speaks, the thief places several smoke pellets, smokesticks, and alchemical weapons into his bandoliers, makes sure his belt pouches contain his weapon blanches and alchemical remedies.
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Taika says something then in Elven, seemingly to herself as it's not pitched at a conversational volume.
Jal gives her a sideways look, and mutters similarly under his breath.
He shrugs at her, but says nothing more.
As they approach the Irorium, Jal pauses to give the crowds and structure a considering look. ”I think I’ll do a bit of looking around. And if we do anticipate trouble, do one of you silver-tongued folk want to see if you can get us seats down on the field seats? If things go sideways—” He pauses, shaking his head, ”Who am I kidding, WHEN things go sideways, well want quick access to the threats.”
Jal gives the group a chance to speak into his idea, then lopes off, skirting the building in an effort to find—and sneak into—the service entrance to get an early look at Charvion, his device, or anything else that looks out of place.
As most of you take your seats, Jal excuses himself and first makes his way down to the field level seats. These seats apparently requiring some presentation of a pass, apparently exclusive to Absalom's finest nobility or the highest ranking Pathfinders, force Jal to take a slight "detour" when he ducks behind an obese Taldan opera singer before darting towards the field itself.
Seizing the next opportunity, he darts behind an immense set piece for the Passion, this one being one of many replica scale siege towers. Quietly, he tucks himself into the shadows and sees what he can see.
Meanwhile, vendors make their way through the audience, hawking all sorts of confections, snacks, meats and practically anything you can imagine mounted on a handy-to-hold stick.
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Taika looks sharply at Jal when he speaks in Elven as well. Her lips thin slightly, then she looks forward again.
However, when he proposes going off his own, she stops him with an upraised hand. "One moment.
"If you can stay within a hundred and fifty feet of us, we can maintain some communication."
Taika casts message, linking herself, Jal, and three others of the party.