Hail and Welcome. Feel free to tag.
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A small, unassuming woman with brilliant golden hair pokes her head in the door, glancing about before sitting down. A matching pair of spiral tattoos, one purple and the other grey, start at hands that never leave the hilts of her twin daggers and disappear up into the long, fur-lined sleeves of her heavy cloak.
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A muscular barefoot man who carries no weapons opens the door with a roundhouse kick. Light beams into the room from behind his lean physique. He straightens his body, relaxes his fists, and, when he sees the golden-haired woman, approaches her.
"Never seen you around here. What do they call you? I'm Munk. I like to kick doors open, because I save these," he shows her his leathery hands, "for combat."
He gestures at Paul, "What's this guy's deal? He dead?"
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"Well met, adventurer Munk!" Odd stands and offers a deep bow. "I am Idgethun Magesbane, the Silent, but you may simply call me Odd. I am glad you arrived -- I was beginning to wonder if this was the right place!"
She looks quizzically at Paul's limp form, slowly drooling on the floor. "Ah, him. I am not sure. He walked in here with heavy feet, as though half-asleep, and passed out before making the table. We will wake him when he is needed, I suppose."
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""Never seen you around here. What do they call you? I'm Munk. I like to kick doors open, because I save these," he shows her his leathery hands, "for combat."
"Aye, wether yae use yer hands or yer feet, Ahh can heal them up after yae've bashed the door doon. Mind yae, if yae just used an axe Ahh widnnae need tae use ana healin! The name is Skybek. Skybek Odeon. Please te meet yae!"
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"Well met, Skybek! I am Idgethun Magesbane, the Silent, or just 'Odd.'"
"Aye, it's a pleasure, mae lass. Yae dannae look tae silent tae me and yae certainly dannae seem odd tae me either. But if its all richt wid yae, may Ahh just call yae Idge?"
She gives the dwarf a look-over and adds with a smile, "And a follower of Cayden Cailean, I see. One of few mortals to skip the Boneyard."
"Hehe, Aye that he is. Mind yae, at the time, he didnae ken that onlae twa other mortals passed the test o' the Starstone. If he had thought tae much aboot it, Ahh doubt we'd hae such a great deity tae be gie'n oor attention tae and Ahh doubt Ahh'd be here hav'in this fine blether wid yae richt noo!"
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At the sound of the dwarf's booming drawl, the sleeping figure wakes with a start, blinking around with bright green eyes at the three figures.
"Oh! Morning," she(?) says, wiping at at her(?) eyes. At first look, all are sure that she is female, with translucent blonde hair and delicate features - but at second glance, the androgynous white robes and strong jawline leave everyone confused.
"Yes. Um. I'm Paul Aalak. Well, Paulie," Paulie says, rubbing her nose. "I'm a fighter, and kind of a cleric of Shelyn, too. Although Shelyn sometimes seems a bit too good for my tastes..." Paulie bites her lip and some get the sense that she might like Shelyn more than she admits. "All those do-gooders ought to like, have some fun or something..."
Paulie looks around and squeaks. "I'm talking too much, aren't I? Sorry!" She looks shyly at Idgethun. "Why do they call you Odd?"
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"Ach! Ahh didnae ken that ye meant yer name is Odd. Ahh mean, Ahh was thinkin that it was part o' yer title like yae were Idge the silent or Idge the odd, but Ahh wid never hae guessed that it was yer name! Ahh hope Ahh dannae offend yae when Ahh say that Idge does hae a nice ring tae it and may not gie yae the strange reputation that yae'll likely get if people start callin yae odd, even if yae are standing with someone else makin yae even! So, Idge, mae pet, how daes a loverly lookin lass such as yerself end up with an odd nickname that yae've had fer a few decades when yae barely look a day o'er fifteen? Yae look o'er tae young tae be havin a nickname fer all that time?!"
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Odd smiles lightly but looks a little distant. "I don't seem to, um, age. Not properly, at least. I don't really know why..." An inhaled sigh refocuses her attention before she continues. "I was born sometime around 4645 by Absalom Reckoning. Nirmathas doesn't exactly keep census records and my parents never bothered to keep track. They're long dead anyhow. I was always much shorter than the other village kids and one started calling me 'the odd one,' and the name stuck. Many even used it as a term of endearment," she adds with a sad smile.
"A priest I apprenticed for some time ago used to say that I had a connection with the Lady of Bones that he'd never known himself, and suggested that might be the cause. But..." -- staring at her hands, still on her daggers, the distant look returns -- "I myself am unsure."
After a moment, Odd looks up again and winks. "In any case, you can call me Idge, if you like. It's very Dwarvish."
After another pause and a breath, Odd's tone turns downright cheerful. "So that was a lot about me. What about you folks?!"
You've been summoned out of Absalom and into the Taldan capital of Oppara, a teeming metropolis where decadence overshadows the decline of a once-great empire. You find yourselves in the Pathfinder Society lodge—a modest building disguised as a bait and tackle shop— before the local venture-captain, an aging man named Muesello.
"Greetings, and welcome to Oppara. Thank you for coming on such short notice. We have recently received reports that an item of extreme antiquity has been found. The late Lord Tulwin of Oppara is—was—the patriarch of a clamoring host of children, and none of them were believed to care much for the miser. Toward the end of his life, he supposedly poured all of what was to be their inheritance into the acquisition of an item of extreme value—an Azlanti scepter recovered by a Taldan Army of Exploration centuries ago. Such was his disdain for his offspring that he arranged for his body and most valuable belongings—the scepter among them—to be spirited away within an hour of his passing so the ‘vultures’ couldn’t squabble over his treasures. The scepter was believed lost to time, until now."
"Our reports suggest that the scepter and the late Lord Tulwin lie entombed somewhere on Antios’s Crown. I need you to find the scepter and return it to me here in Oppara. If it truly is as powerful as the rumors suggest, then it must be brought to the Grand Lodge for safekeeping. You are among the few to whom we have given this information, and we expect it to remain secret. The last thing I need is a bunch of squabbling lordlings crowding Antios’s Crown with hired tomb raiders!"
"“You will know the tomb by the crest of House Tulwin. Look
for a winged boar and the scepter should be nearby. When you
are ready, we will transport you to the base of Mount Antios
via magical means. Admittedly, it would be more expedient
to send you directly to the summit, but sadly, no one here
has a great enough familiarity with the area to do so without
significant risk. Besides, with all the wards, shields, and other
magical protections placed upon, in, and around the tombs of
so many self-important, paranoid Taldans, who knows what
sort of interference would be wrought!"
"Any questions?"
"Nope, they have no idea, and we're keeping it that way."
Skybek knows something of the erstwhile lord. Lord Tulwin was a minor lord of Taldor’s nobility. He never gained much influence because of his harsh exterior, miserly ways, and obsessive fascination with necromancy. He caught a wasting sickness that he was unable to have treated because he had invested his sizable wealth in a few, portable items of antiquity and power to keep the bulk of his assets from his hated children. Upon his death, his noble line dried up, bereft of the wealth they needed to maintain their influence and power.
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"So... we're tomb raiding." Odd's tone is icy cold. "I hope that there is a strong reason for not leaving the man and his possessions where his will left them. How did we 'acquire' this knowledge? Is it in danger of becoming public? Because I, for one, am not fond of disturbing the dead without great need." She raises her hand, revealing the rayed spiral tattooed to her flesh.
"The lord was a necromancer of the nasty sort. We're worried that what he has may be tempting to necromancers still alive. We came about the information the old fashioned way; we knew of the sceptre's existence, but not location. We need to get it to the Grand Lodge for safe keeping."
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"If it's o' ana interest tae yae, Ahh've heard some blether aboot oor Laird Tulwin. He was a minor Laird o' Taldor's nobility, but he was a damn crotchety miser whae obsessed o'er necromancy. He caught some wastin sickness that he could nae treat. Frae the way Ahh understand it, he spent all o' his wealth on wee items o' power, and he didnae hae much left tae share wid his hated bairns. In the end, the noble line dried up and withoot the wealth tae share, his descendants didnae hae a way tae maintain their power and influence."
"Aye, Ahh agree with the lovely lass, Idge! Ahh'm happy tae retrieve this wee scepter, but tell me Venture Captain Musello, what is the likelihood that Laird Tulis will keep on sleepin when we pick up his prized possession? If he daes wake up again, dae we hae yer permission tae put him tae sleep fer good?!"
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Howdy! Hope y'all 'l excuse my tardiness.
A lanky half-orc enters the room. He wears travel-worn clothing, covering a chain shirt that is only barely visible under his attire. He's got a buckler strapped to his left hand, and a longsword on his left hip, both of non-remarkable make and quality.
The only item in his possession that looks well-cared for and of quality is a well-oiled pistol on his right hip, of black metal polished to a near shine. He touches his wide-brimmed hat in a minute hat-tilt and nod to the Venture Captain.
So we find this scepter and bring it back--that sounds simple enough, much more simple than my LAST mission. I'm hoping to give Discordia a chance to sing, she's not likin' the quiet she's endured lately! He briefly touches the pistol, then gives each of the Pathfinders in the room their own hat-tip and head-bow as he greets them.
Odd. Sybek. Paul. Name's Riegel. I should only have to buy a couple things and then I'll be ready to go.
The Venture Captain eyes you all, "If there are no other questions, or purchases you need to make, follow me." Venture-Captain Muesello directs you to the back room of the lodge, where a hooded man sits by a small fireplace. Introduced only as “a man who owes the Society a favor,” the man whispers to you to stand back, then draws a scroll from within his cloak. The man reads the scroll and gestures to the floor in the center of the room, where a crudely drawn chalk circle erupts in bright amber light then fades to a glimmering outline. “Step there and find yourselves at the foot of the mountain,” the man says, then vanishes in a puff of smoke.
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The Venture Captain eyes you all, "If there are no other questions, or purchases you need to make, follow me." Venture-Captain Muesello
"Ahh tak it frae the silence o' mae question, Muesello that yae expect the Laird is likely undead at this point. Dannae worry, Ahh was expecting as much!"
Skybek follows the Venture Captain. He looks at the chalk circle and declares, "Well, here gaes nothin. Ahh'll see yae folks at the mountain."
With his axe drawn, Skybek steps into the circle.
The V-C does indeed nod at Skybek's response. The hooded figure vanishes outside of the circle.
You may shop if you haven't. The V-C eyes your clothes and shakes his head a bit, but otherwise says nothing. Signal that you're ready by entering the circle.
I'll also take a Knowledge (Geography)
Ummm It's a mountain.
Aye, a cold and tall mountain.
Description to follow once everyone steps through.
Status update:
Riegel: Ready
Paul: Ready
Skybek: Ready
Munk Het: TBD
Idge: Ready
You all arrive in a brisk, inhospitable area. It's the base of a mountain, but this mountain is not the gentle hike of the Taldan rich, this is a MOUNTAIN. There are a couple of rough options for paths, and in thinking about how long it's going to take you.....
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this is a MOUNTAIN
Having cast endure elements on herself and obtaining some comfort against the wind, Odd casts about for the best route forward.
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Midget Jun finds a solid candidate for a trail. She also estimates that its going to be two full 8 hour days and that shelter and cold sore going to be major issues...
-Posted with Wayfinder