Sara fires another well-aimed arrow at the scorpion, and this one goes through its tough hide. With a spurt of black ichor, the creature goes down.
A sturdy silver chain jutting from the ceiling ends in a glowing orb that radiates yellow light across the rectangular room. A simple desk of polished wood, stacked with documents and scattered notes, shelters a pair of wooden chests against the south wall. A series of cracks along the eastern and western walls form makeshift entrances into exposed caverns.
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Ísvindur tries to shake the feeling of weakness in his muscles, but nods to the team at their efficient work against the scorpions. "That was well done," he grunts as he glides into the room, adding his own inspection to the team's efforts.
"WELL DONE! WELL DONE!" the raven caws as it dances on his shoulders. The tall northman gives his shoulders a shake, as if trying futilely to rid himself of the bird.
After investigating the desk and the pile of papers, the new Pathfinders find that the documents chronicle the personal exploits of Selmius Foster, a famous Pathfinder whose name they recognize from their training as Pathfinder agents. Most of Foster’s more infamous adventures appear here in varying amounts of detail, but it is evident there is another investigation he had been pursuing before he died: the lost records of a Society agent named Eylysia.
There are two letters the group finds particularly interesting, one written by Foster himself, and the second by his apprentice, Adolphus.
poorly. In this trove I have left my considerable findings, which I hope will
be of use to our growing Society. While most of this information will no doubt
already be in the hands of fellow Society members, there is a personal matter
which I have left contained within.
Events over the past decade have led me to suspect a fellow agent of hoarding
her knowledge and not submitting it for review. This woman_a surprisingly
sensible gnome by the name of Eylysia_has partaken of almost as many missions
as I, yet she reports only a third of what I have brought to light. In order
to ensure knowledge is not concealed, I have begun an investigation into Eylysia
and her activities here in Absalom, hoping to find her hidden repository of
stored knowledge. Thus far, I have come across two promising leads.
The first is Eylysia’s contact with a well-known stonemason by the name of
Arkath. I had the displeasure of meeting this fellow in his dying days, when
he promised to take any secrets he held to his grave. He was interred in a
mausoleum in the Ivy District weeks after our encounter, though I still believe
there is more to his connection with Eylysia.
Another lead is Eylysia’s friendship with a member of the Arcanamirium, a
local wizard’s guild. The fellow is a gnome by the name of Fimbrik. All of my
attempts to speak with him have failed, though I have noted his home address
in my files for follow-up.
It is my sincere hope that I am able to return to discover what Eylysia has
hidden, but should I not, I entrust this to my assistant Adolphus or any brave
Society agents who come across my unfinished work.
_Selmius Foster
investigation into Eylysia's activities, though recent developments mean my time in Absalom is short.
My initial follow-up of Foster's investigation into Arkath involved hiring several diviners to discern the
veracity of Selmius's leads. It appears the stonemason was quite honest with my mentor; there is some
key clue buried with him in his mausoleum.
I have watched Eylysia for many months since my return, and I havve caught her making additions to the Wall of Names-the memorial built in honor of my departed mentor. She has added three names, none
of which are true Pathfinders and are likely worth investigating. Their names are:
~ Doulgonlir Caskmail
~ Hollis 'Evil Grin' Thorne
~ Karina Clamp
Events are in motion that will soon take me to Quantium, after which I will be unable to conclude this investigation. I leave this hidden under the Wounded Wisp, in hopes that one day I might return, or that the Society endures its current woes and a future generation of agents can take up this cause.
-Adolphus
Ansha and Ilarien try to recall whether these names have any significance. Perhaps they have seen them on the Wall of Names in the past, but they don't sound like any Pathfinders they have heard reports of, and they are not current Pathfinders.
Details left by Selmius Foster indicate the location of Arkath’s burial site: a plot of land in Eastgate operated by the Pharasman faith. Buried in a mausoleum on the church’s property, Arkath paid a substantial sum to have his remains guarded. A fence surrounds the necropolis grounds, and members of the faith and city guards routinely patrol the property.
Arkath’s crypt seems to be located is the northernmost structure on the compound.
The gates into the necropolis are left open to those paying their respects, and a woman with a white streak in otherwise dark hair can be seen at the entrance.
"What is your business in Pharasma's domain?" she asks.
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"A poet's greatest work is done in the presence of his subject! I have come to compile the greatest telling of the greatest man to walk this land! His name will be synonymous with excellence. His life will be the model of all men!"
Chortles hides his shovel behind his back.
"To complete a chapter in this man's story, we have brought the man's lost kin back to reunite with him post-humously. This man," Chortles points at Stonetree, "wishes to see his lost father's remains before returning to a hard life on the tossed seas of the lower regions."
"I see..." the woman says, accompanied by a slight nod, apparently convinced by both Ansha and Chortles. "I will show you the way. Please treat the site and remains with the utmost respect."
While the gates to the complex were open, the doors of the mausoleums are sealwed with sturdy stone slabs. However, with the cleric's assistance, it is easily moved aside.
The interior of Arkath’s sarcophagus is empty save for the stonemason’s long-dead skeleton.
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As the Pharasman leads them onwards, Ísvindur claps Chortles and Ilarien on the shoulders in a silent thanks. As he enters the mausoleum, he wastes no time heading for Arkanth's sarcophagus.
He pauses, looking down, then mutters a few words of power, searching for traces of magic as he searches for anything out of place.
Isvindur discovers a small silver coin inside the skeleton’s mouth, which radiates faint divination magic.
The woman seems sufficiently distracted, though fairly perplexed, by Chortles' performance. Though it is good, she seems to want to get back to her duties.
Isvindur is easily able to take the coin from the skeleton's mouth.
The enchanted coin proves to be a Pathfinder's coin, a discreet and clever item that resembles a coin, but contains a hidden message only Pathfinders can decipher in their wayfinder.
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"This is it," mutters Ísvindur. "A Pathfinder's coin. Let's take it away for further inspection."
He slips the coin into his pocket, then heads back outside, leaving Arkanth — and the Parasmin priestess— behind.
The tall northman pulls it back out. "Does anyone have a Wayfinder? We should be able to place this in there. Hopefully it will have a message."
As Ansha places the coin in her wayfinder, it begins to hover in place, rotate on an axis, and an audible voice says:
The path and chamber are complete, hidden behind the
nameplate of the requested aspirant and guarded by the word
you requested. Fimbrik will add more.
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Ísvindur frowns at the message as he considers. Then, after a second, he pulls the notes from below the Wisp back out. He points to a section near the bottom of the first note.
Another lead is Eylysia’s friendship with a member of the Arcanamirium, a local wizard’s guild. The fellow is a gnome by the name of Fimbrik. All of my attempts to speak with him have failed, though I have noted his home address in my files for follow-up.
”Fimbrik.”
The raven dances up onto his head. "FIMBRIK!" it cries, mocking Svin, "FIMBRIK!"
Foster’s notes record Fimbrik’s address in the Wise Quarter. It is not difficult to locate. The home itself is an impressive stone dwelling reminiscent of what one might expect from an eccentric wizard’s home.
Numerous stacks of newspapers—roughly a year or two worth of monthly copies—are piled around the door and crammed into a thin slot at its base. Each rounded corner of the building has a large window.
Sara and Stonetree both try knocking on the door, with differing degrees of force. As the papers Ansha examines attest, it appears some time since anyone has come through the front door.
Still, as Isvindur looks in the windows, he can see a study, containing a round table surrounded by chairs, and the walls are replete with tome-laden bookshelves. A flamboyantly-dressed gnome peruses the book collection.
Isvindur can also detect some magical auras within.