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 venturecaptain 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.
“The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
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Don Jorge lifts a hand to stroke his chin as he tries to recall the tavern.
"Hmm, the Wounded Wisp... I believe I know that place. Ah, yes! A fine establishment, indeed! Some of the best drink your money can buy. And the women! I've had my fair share of fun there, drinking away the evening with a pair of ladies at my side!"
He accepts the map from the man and stows it in his pocket.
"Do not worry, my friend! My companions and I, Don Jorge Antino Martin Velasco-Cabrales, will make sure that your package is brought to you with the utmost care!"
Don Jorge turns to head in the direction of the party's destination, but stops suddenly. He returns his attention to the old man with a concerned look upon his face.
"Before we go, I must ask you, for what purpose would one such as you be out here in this torrential downpour. Surely you could have had any number of pathfinders, or anyone else for the matter, stand out here in your stead? Do you not fear for your health?"
Don Jorge knows the area very well, and remembers the exact location of the Wounded Wisp.
Drandle Dreng chuckles at Don Jorge's question, "You can never trust another's eyes and ears as much as you trust your own, initiate. Right now, I’m following up on a group operating out of this district that I believe to be associated with the Onyx Alliance. This shoddy attire serves its purpose by keeping me disguised and lets me pry secrets from loose lips better than any magical enchantment."
"As for my health, this parcel from the Wounded Wisp should see to that..." he ends with a toothy grin.
As the two converse, Paladin keeps a watchful eye out for evil, but his holy magic detects none.
Don Jorge leads the way to the Wounded Wisp...
Located in the Foreign Quarter district of Absalom, it is not far from the grounds of the Grand Lodge.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 — referred to by the staff as “the wisp” — that hangs there during the evening hours.
The party heads inside...
The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-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.
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"Finally! It is good to be out of that accursed rain."
Don Jorge removes his rain soaked cloak and hat and places them on a nearby hanger.
"While we attempt to procure ourselves a table, I believe our gun-toting friend here has offered to buy the first round of drinks!"
He looks around the tavern, trying to spot an empty table. He spots one towards the back of the room and makes his way towards it.
"Aye, that it is," Heryn responds as she begins filling four mugs of ale. "and who might you be, sir?"
She look up as one of the half-orcs shouts over, "MORE ALE!"
"IT'S COMIN', GARL!" she shouts back, past Kyler. "I swear, our Pathfinder discount must be their favorite part o' the job." Heryn drops four mugs of Starstone Stout in front of Kyler before starting on fresh drinks for the half-orcs, seemingly forgetting about their conversation as she pours.
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Kyler pushes the mugs together, appearing to make ready to head to the table with the rest of his group, when he remembers his mission.
"My name is Kyler Stern, and my friends and I were sent to find you. We've been told that you have a parcel for a mutual friend of ours, Drandle Dreng. Would you know anything about that?"
"He sent all four of you to pick up his wine?" Heryn asks with a laugh. "I shouldn't be surprised, though. That really is something he'd do." She starts heading to the half-orcs' table with their drinks. She shouts over her shoulder back to Kyler, "I can take you down to the basement to get it as soon as my replacement gets here, so make yourselves comfortable!"
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Kyler grabs the mugs and heads over to the table, depositing one in front of each chair ().
Looking at his companions, he leans in and whispers "I'm not sure how I feel about this basement parcel pickup business. It would probably be best to keep our wits about us."
He looks over to make sure his trusty musket is still with his backpack and in easy reach while a hand absentmindedly check his belt pouch for his cartridges.
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It seems the current talk of the bar is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
Looking around the bar, you notice a few familiar faces from around the Grand Lodge: Janira Gavix, a halfling woman, is giving a motivational lecture to some other new Pathfinder recruits. Aram bin Kaleel, a Keleshite man and clearly a devotee of Sarenrae, sits at another table enjoying his meal. Two half-orcs, a male and female, named Garl and Shrade, sit at another table trading crude jokes. The other patron of interest may be less familiar faces to the society: The military historian Yargos Gill bears no direct affiliation with the Society. Despite this, Gill has often found himself wrapped up in the Society’s affairs and he has come to accept the Pathfinders as allies. The older man is sipping from an oversized flagon of ale while reading through a large and ominous- looking tome.
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Don Jorge lets out a hearty chuckle and gives Kyler a pat on the shoulder.
"You worry too much, my friend! Do you think that this is some sort of twisted initiation ritual and the basement is actually full of giant rats or skeletons? Even then, I think we can handle ourselves! Ha Ha!"
He lifts his mug and turns to the rest of his companions.
"As for introductions, I may as well go first. For those who do not already know, I am Don Jorge Antino Martin Velasco-Cabrales, son of Don Carlos Hernando Maximiano Velasco-Cabrales. At your service!"
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Lolik takes a swig of ale and as his pint hits the table he starts to speak. I serve the Father Of Creation, my name is Lolik Flaskslayer, and most call me Lolik. I was up for my confirmation when I fell ill and missed it, so got reassigned to this detail once I was better. Sadly one cannot heal a cold with a simple spell. I hope to be selected for my confirmation upon completion of this assignment. How about you sir? You appear to follow...
...a diety that I have seen the symbol for in my studies, but escapes me.
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Paladin began scanning the room from moment we walked into the Wounded Wisp. Ever vigilant, he casts Detect Evil across the entire room. He spots Heryn Gale, looking lovely as ever. He throws her a smile and a nod as he makes his way over to the table occupied by his new companions. He sits down and takes a swig of stout.
As Jenkins finds a place to sit, he notices the tall Keleshite man watching him intently. After the group sits, he picks up his glass of wine and approaches, bowing.
"Greetings, my friends," he says in a deep, luxurious voice. "I am Aram bin Kaleel, Pathfinder and Lamplighter. I cannot help but notice a fellow man of faith as he diligently watches for evil." He lifts a small silver chain attached to his cloak, and a wayfinder briefly appears before disappearing into the folds of his clothing.
"Judging from such armor and holy symbol, you are clearly a Paladin of Iomedae. I am an Inquisitor of Sarenrae myself. Speaking of the Gods, have you heard of this Sir Reinhart? Word has it that he shall be attempting the Test of the Starstone, in order to ascend to godhood, just as Iomedae did."
Aram pauses to sip his wine. "But, alas, chances are he will simply become another failed aspirant to have an alter in the Shrine of the Failed."
As the Test of the Starstone is a well-known part of Absalom, and Jenkins is a Paladin trained in religious knowledge, he knows a good deal about the test:
The Test of the Starstone is a test that anyone can take by attempting to reach the Starstone at the center of Absalom. The Starstone is surrounded by a large, deadly maze containing traps, guardians and wards. The exact nature of the obstacles changes over time, but constant hazards include magic not always working right and prevention of extra-dimensional movement. Those few who pass become demigods, while those who fail usually die, although a select few manage to escape, occasionally with great wealth, but no divinity. The first known person to pass the test was Aroden, who did so when he took the stone from the bottom of the sea to the Isle of Kortos in 1 AR when he founded the city of Absalom. Since then, only three of the vast number who took the test have passed: Norgorber, whose life prior to the test is unknown, Cayden Cailean, who took it on a drunken bet, and Iomedae, a worshiper of Aroden who became his herald.
The Test of the Starstone is mysterious; the only publicly known part of the test is that hopefuls must cross the bottomless pit surrounding the Starstone Cathedral without using a bridge. Crossing the pit is a necessary first step, but not sufficient to enter the cathedral and continue the test, and what has worked for one hopeful may fail for another. Hopefuls have leaped across, flown with magic, or used tightropes, and the spectacle of an attempt nearly always draws an enormous, attentive crowd.
Aram responds to Kyler, "I would not say I am certain of his failure. However, only three aspirants have ever completed this Test... and a visit to the Shrine of the Failed will give you an idea of how many have died trying. I will simply say that the odds are not in his favor."
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Paladin Jenkins rises from his chair and speaks in an imposing, rugged voice. " Aye! the Test of the Starstone is not for faint or weak-willed, but I would not have such low expectations for Sir Reinhart." His voice goes quieter and a sly grin appears on Jenkins face. "It may be typical for a follower of Sarenrae to be pessimistic, but Sir Reinhart may surprise you." Paladins voice suddenly turns almost jovial. "Haha! I jest. It's good to see another holy man keeping a watchful eye for the relentless forces of EVIL! What brings you to the Wounded Wisp, Inquisitor?"
Aram does not seem amused by Paladin's jest, but responds to his question. "I try to visit the Wounded Wisp at least once a moon. It is an enjoyable place to discuss matters of adventure and faith with fellow Pathfinders."
"I cannot say that I know, though I'm sure rumors abound." Aram says, shaking his head. "Alas, I believe it is time I return to my shop." Aram looks around at the initiate Pathfinders at the table, and finally nods, seemingly in approval. "Should you need any advice, Initiates, please visit my shop, Kaleel's Curiosities, in the Coins district. Remember, a Pathfinder should stand on his own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed." With that, he heads back to the bar to pay his tab.
As Kyler heads over to talk to Yargos, the military historian closes the book he was reading. "Greetings, Pathfinder. I'm not surprised you've heard of me, but I'm afraid I can't say the same for you.
I was actually reading a bit about this very bar. I'm not a Pathfinder myself, of course, but I have learned a touch of your organization's history. Apparently, the Wounded Wisp is the place where the Pathfinder Society was born. Here, adventurers such as Durvin Gest and Selmius Foster planned their explorations, told their tales, and licked their wounds. These first Pathfinders went out into the unknown not with a team of specialists, but alone. They had to handle any situation themselves - be it to decipher an ancient inscription or to combat a fell guardian."
"Of course! One would be wise to remember the great battle of..." Yargos begins. As he continues to drone on about the details of an ancient battle, an attractive woman of part elven descent arrives in the Wisp. She hurries over to the bar and ducks underneath, quickly strapping on an apron.
This is met with quite a "whoop" of approval from many in the Wisp, not the least from the half orcs table. With her help at hand, Heryn Gale heads over to the tables.
"Okay, you lot want who wanted Dreng's wine? Right, come with me," she says to the party at the table.
"I see you have business to attend to, friend. Do call upon me should you ever wish to discuss matters of academia. Farewell!" Having said his goodbyes, Yargos returns to his book.
Heryn leads the party to the back of the bar, through a kitchen.
The kitchen is at full steam, with three cooks looking daggers at the party as they pass through. Aside from the cooks there is a wood burning stove and several benches that the cooks are busy doing prep work at.
Behind the kitchen she leads you into the back store room, with stairs leading down into the basement...
The party follows Heryn into the tightly packed storeroom beneath the Wounded Wisp. Barrels, boxes, and crates of assorted foodstuffs and drink garnishes are pushed against the walls or under the stairs.
"Watch your step down here, now. The earthquake of 4698 left quite the scar on our poor basement." Heryn walks gently across a broad wooded plank that bridges the fissure. "We keep all our special ales and vintage wines back here. I'd appreciate it if you helped me look through these bottles, since I should be heading home now..." She begins checking the label on each bottle of wine. "Should be dated 4302, quite an old one."
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Lolik moves into the cellar and starts looking for the year Heryn provided. You should think about putting the bottles in order by year and then style. This would speed this up drastically. If you need help doing so, after my assignment is done I can come sort these instead of seeking work at the library.
Upon crossing the dilapidated board spanning the fissure, Lolik is caught by surprise when it splits beneath his weight! He instinctively reaches for the edge as he falls...
Lolik splashes into the waste of a broken sewage pipe at the bottom of the pit - ten feet below - taking .
The sides of the chasm have various nooks and handholds, and don't look too difficult climb up.
"What the devil!?" Heryn shouts in surprise. She hustles back to the fissure to see the board and the dwarf are now missing. Realizing what happened, she groans, "I know it wasn't much, but did ya have to break our 'lil bridge? Come on out of there and lets get your bottle 'fore you all break 'nything else... "
"S'pose it needed to be replaced anyway..." she grumbles.
Just before Don Jorge turns around, he spots a bottle with the date 4302 on the rack against the wall.
Actually...
When Don Jorge grabbed the bottle to pull it from the shelf, it only came out a couple inches before stopping with an audible click. The wine shelf then swung out on a hinge to reveal a short stone tunnel leading to a hidden room!
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Saladin hears the loud click. He turns to look at the shelf as it swings open, then he slowly turns back to the dwarf. "Well, one thing at a time I suppose", he said with a sigh. Saladin produces a rope from his backpack and tosses one end down the pit with a loud plop as it hits the filthy water. "Tie it 'round yourself, and I'll pull you up. Trust me, I once lifted a full-grown cow out of a well." He said proudly. "Don't ask me how it got there. . ."
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"OH HO! A secret passage! That Drandle Dreng is a tricky one. Whatever is down there must be his true purpose for sending us here." He looks at Heryn to guage her reaction. "Did you know of this Miss Gale?"
"Come friends! Mayhaps we will find something worthwhile in this uncharted place. But we must keep our wits sharp, as I feel that there may be more surprises in store for us."
Heryn Gale looks on, incredulously. "I... I can't believe it... I can't believe we had so much more storage space hiding down here!"
Meanwhile, Saladin Jenkins hauls the dwarf out of the crack in the ground and unties him.