|
"...and then I said, That's not where you wear a hat!" finishes the handsome pirate captain.
Surrounded by nearly a dozen beautiful men and women, all of which burst into gales of laughter at the punchline, Aelwynd slaps a knee and laughs along with them. Even the nearby bartender is unable to stifle a chuckle.
Glancing out the open door of the bar, Aelwynd notices the tilt of the sun's shadow and his mirth suddenly fades. With sincere disappointment in his voice he interrupts the other's laughter, "I am afraid the time has gotten away from me my lovelies. I have something important that needs my attention. Please accept my apologies, but I really must bid you all farewell"
As he stands and grabs his tricorn hat from the table, his audience protests his departure by pleading and grabbing at the silken sleeves of his coat.
"Lovelies, please. I'm not leaving forever." he says to mollify them, "Believe me, I am more sorry to be going right now than the lot of you. But I will be back. Count on it."
And with that, he winks and flashes his new found friends a grin before dashing out the front door.
First to arrive at the Society's meeting place, Aelwynd looks the location over with a sharp eye, curious as to the nature of the meeting he has been summoned to. I wonder if this is a solo mission, or if any others I might know will be coming along?
He leans against a wall, casually scanning the area and waiting for the others to arrive.
|
In the back of the bar A half-orc dressed in chain with a bright red cloak and hat plays on a flute keeping up a lively atmosphere as crowds drink and exchange tales, both true and tall. One of the large crowds begins to dissipate as the center of attention announces his intent to leave, and Saul decides that it's probably time to get going as well.
After a bit, he realizes he has been following said center of attention all the way to the designated meeting spot. "You too eh? From ale and wine to fortune and glory, then back again. Such is the life of a Pathfinder. Clearing my head after a disastrous trip to the ever-so-loved Blakros museum and got the call! I'll admit, I really didn't pay too much attention to the details but I could always use a new story to tell."
He offers a hand to the elf. "Silver Crusader Solomon Goodman of the Grand Army of Exploration, 6th regiment."
|
|
With a hearty shake of the good skald's hand, Aelwynd smiles broadly, "Well met Soloman! I am Captain Swiftblade of The Fearsome Tide and an outstanding member of Liberty's Edge, but please, call me Aelwynd."
Looking Soloman up and down appreciatively, something seems to occur to him, "You were at the bar. I noticed you, but you never came over." As if to answer an unspoken question, his eyes take on a rather mischievous glint and he says, "It would be a dry day on the sea for someone to play a flute like you did and I wouldn't take notice."
After the briefest of pauses, Aelwynd continues, "So, the Blakros museum you say? That place is always... interesting. Some feel bad for Nigel, but I say at least he hasn't quit! You'll have to tell me the tale of your adventure." And with that, Aelwynd grows quiet, looking on expectantly...
|
A tall Garundi woman with long greying dreads and clad in heavy plate enters the room. She has several weapons strapped to her waist and across her back. She stops and shakes her head slightly at the sight of the Captain. "Please tell me I won't be swimming again. Anything but swimming." she raises her eyes to the heavens as if asking for divine guidance.
Laughing she continues in. "Alewynd lovely to see you as always." She gives him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have you managed to stay out of trouble since I saw you last?"
|
|
"Please tell me I won't be swimming again. Anything but swimming." she raises her eyes to the heavens as if asking for divine guidance.
"I can't promise there won't be swimming, but feel free to wear whatever you would wear to a bath, you know, just in case you get wet." comes Aelwynd's quick reply.
Laughing she continues in. "Alewynd lovely to see you as always." She gives him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have you managed to stay out of trouble since I saw you last?"
"That depends on your definition of trouble I suppose." he says with mock innocence.
As if suddenly remembering there is another agent present, he makes a quick introduction to his new friend Solomon, "Ariana, this handsome devil next to me is Silver Crusader Solomon Goodman of the Grand Army of Exploration, 6th regiment."
Then turning to Solomon, he introduces Ariana, "And Solomon, this wondrous woman before you is Ariana, mistress of the silver blade and one of the finest warriors I have ever met."
|
|
Striding into the room, "Silver Crusader you say? Well, it would be an honor to make his acquaintance!" His red and white armor is nearly resplendent. The man's reliquary shield clearly showing his dedication to Iomedae. "Aelwynd, truly the Society favors me this day!" Approaching Ariana, the paladin offers a nod of respect and a warm smile, "Ariana as well? The Inheritor has seen fit to bless me two fold. Ah, sword-maiden, it is good to see you again." Crossing to the half-orc, raising a finger in recognition, "I know you! Solomon Goodman, if I don't miss my guess. I sat near you in The Temple of the Shining Star some time ago during a speech by Ollysta Zadrian. It is truly a privilege to have the opportunity to work alongside such a well respected agent. I am Caduceus Via, and like you, dedicated to The Crusade. Now then, all this talking has let me a little thirsty. Who would like to join me in a toast to my good fortune?"
|
|
"Don't worry friends... should swimming come into play I've got a spell up my sleeve just for it. Glad to see that some of you have already met! To know your allies is half of the battle."
He scratches his chin as Caduceus introduces himself. "Temple of the Shining Star? Hmm... don't remember visiting there... that is unless I was drunk. Then even the Dawnflower's church is Cayden's too am I right?" He winks and nudges Caduceus in the ribs. "Might of Gorum and the luck of Cayden has served me well thus far... and the temple of Gorum is on the training grounds and fields of battle. Temple of Cayden is wherever anyone has a good drink."
He chuckles. "Made my way to the Crusade the long way around though myself. Marched under the banner of Taldor when Lady Gloriana Morilla brought her Grand Army of Exploration to the Worldwound. Unfortunately her supporters seem to lack the spirit needed to defend us... and when I saw Ollysta that day, and those she commanded... well... Here I am!"
He pulls a beat up wooden pint from his pack. "Well then... a toast to all of our good fortunes! I'll never turn down an opportunity to toast."
|
|
A large warrior pops in head with a carefree grin across his scarred face. Showing little appreciation for subtly he cares several massive bags on his back that clatter with the sound on metal on metal as he drops it before him.
"Am I too late for the toast? I never get to drink on a mission. Usually just get yelled at for proper etiquette, and keeping the proper balance of mental focus and all that."
His bloodline is be hard to place with large build and ruddy well-tanned skin. His style offers no aid as he wears Tien styled armor more well suited for a display than actual battle, if it was not already marred by stains of blood, mud, and cheap ale. His weapons show better care, but have clear signs of being well used.
Offering a calloused hand as he announces himself, "I'm Sielan. Rather not claim any more title. People don't tend to hear about me breaking things in their name."
"Great to see you again Solomon! Hopefully you can vouch that I do a halfway decent job while he keeps me more healthy than a deserve!"
|
|
"HAHAHAHA! Surely today is going to be OUTRAGEOUS! Every time Sielan's here I know we're in for a treat!"
He gives Sielan a hearty pat on the back (similar to a slam attack, but nicer).
"Last time I went out on an adventure with this guy we went to space! Can you believe it?? SPACE!"
He ponders Sielan's lack of titles, then smirks. "Well friends, since you all know each other, allow me to introduce Daemonslayer Freedom Fighter Hard Drinking Spaceman Sielan!"
He scratches his chin. "Eh... I'll come up with something better when I write the play for this one. Had a rough time coming up with a decent script for our last adventure. The propmasters said that for the effect I wanted we'd need to spend the entire run's revenue on one night of spellcasting."
|
"Lord of Darkness, hear my call and know my pain!" The blade slices, shearing off hair and scalp. "Feel my despair, the source of truest pain! My nerves are dulled, but my mind is keen. My soul weeps and in weeping it speaks to thee! Vengeance is not your portfolio, but this worm hopes; one day you will grant the reaping of deserving folk."
Shambling through the meeting place towards a group he is somewhat familiar with, a scarred bald half-elf shambles towards the assembled Pathfinders. "It seems... We are to be... Paired. Once more. Agent Swiffftblade" he rasps with difficulty, as he goes to scratch the ugly scar across his larynx. "Good to see you are... In health. As are you Ariana of the blade." Turning towards the others, the crude metal skull transfixed with a chain around his neck jingling coldly, he bows to the others. "I am... Nachts. Lemarchand. Formerly of Galt. Humble follower of my Lord in Midnight Dark. The Shadow-bringer. I look forward to... Our... Cooperation."
You received a specially marked letter at your residences, or your local lodge, for those without a permanent address a few days ago. The letter did not specifically address you, but seems like a call for duty, something you are more than accustomed to by now. The letter was written by no other than Sheila Heidmarch, a renowned expert in Thassilonian lore with many discoveries of her own, and the Venture Captain of the Magnimar Lodge.
Eager to make an impression, a sense of obligation of duty, or just plain bored, you find yourself smuggled within Magnimar’s elite Alabastar district, the sprawling manor grounds contain Varisia’s first and only official Pathfinder Lodge. The journey seemed long, but is soon forgotten with the distraction of the parade of colourful Pathfinders from all around the many regions of Golarion, and perhaps beyond the plane.
|
|
Happily greeting the others as they arrive, hugging Caduceus despite the uncomfortable face he makes, and shaking the hand of the giant Seilan, Aelwynd readily offers up a cup when the time comes to toast,"Praise be to Cayden and all the wonderful fun he brings to a gathering."
When the scarred half-elf shambles in next and introduces himself, Aelwynd practically leaps to grip his hand, "Why, Agent Lamarchand, you bald beauty! It is great to see you hale as well. As Solomon so recently said, surely today is going be OUTRAGEOUS!"
|
|
"Well, it seems that most of you know each other! Wonderful!"
He seems somewhat unenthusiastic about Nacht's introduction.
"So uh... this was an all hands on deck call right? Anyone know where we're going?"
He leans in closer to Aelwynd and whispers, "And this Midnight-Lord follower... you can vouch for him?"
|
|
At the mention of Nachts' patron, Oh Sweet Lady! Why do you test me so. Was it not enough to have to parade through the deserts of Geb disguised as an undead abomination? Now you wish me to protect the life of...him? There must be some lesson to be learned here, the sanctity of ALL life perhaps? Even those that follow a darker path. Maybe I am to redeem him by shining Your Light upon the road he travels? This is quite a burden you think me capable of lifting.
Lacking his earlier enthusiasm Splendid."
|
|
Chuckling to himself, Aelwynd leans into the ear of the good skald and whispers back, "He's an odd one for certain, but he's proven his worth and then some."
His eyes positively twinkle with mirth when he sees the strained face of Iomedae's favored son. "Brilliant toast Cad! Here here! To cooperation!"
|
|
Saul nods towards Aelwynd then thinks for a moment. Finally he addresses Nachts. "Well met! You know, us Caydenites have a bit in common with your worship... you wound yourself for knowledge, we get blackout drunk and wake up with hangovers! For knowledge. I think. You scar your face, we scar our livers!"
He smiles and holds out his hand to shake, his smile clearly at least half faked.
|
|
"To cooperation." Ariana raises her own glass, and gives the follower of Zon-Kuthon a bright smile. "So the gods do see fit to try and recruit me again. Two representatives of their gods on this mission. One of these days I'm going to have to give in. It's good to see you again Nachts. I hope your travels have gone as well as you wished them to."
"It's a pleasure to meet you all. We will all work together well I'm sure." She looks at the others she was just introduced to.
|
|
"Well, I'll drink to anything but I'll take a double for cooperation!."
"I'm will need to disagree with you on one part Solomon. I've done a lot of drinking and a lot of learning, and I can tell you that they haven't mixed well for me."
Sielan gives a hearty laugh to himself as he appraises Nachts's symbol. Giving serious thought to the he ruffles through his own ragged hair for a couple moments and shrugs it off offering a hand to Nachts.
"Not going to say I don't have a worry. I've got mixed runs with people playing with darker things, but it isn't like I'm clean myself. If the Society vouches for you I won't think much more it."
|
|
For a moment, as Aelwynd holds the Kuthite close in his embrace, Nachts just... stops. Upon release, the normally almost manic smile lessens, an acknowledgement to perhaps a moment of thought taken by the warpriest. He snaps back to it when addressed by Solomon. "Ohohoh... Agent Goodman... I do not ... scar my face. That. That was done by supporters of freedom. In another time. After they slew beauty. And killed hope" he states, in a tone that becomes quieter after each sentence, slowly turning to face the half-orc and placing a hand upon his shoulder. "I know what ... you ... are doing, and I ... commend you" he continues, back in his usual raspy tone. "Had I the ... capacity ... I'd feel joy ... in you trying ... to make me feel welcome in the ... face ... of the Inheritor's vessel."
He nods backs at Arianna. "They did not, but that ... is the point, isn't it?" He laughs, a series of short, ugly barks that must surely hurt. He continues, taking Sielan's hand and shaking it, cocking his head from side to side. "A pleasure... I will not impose my way, if that is ... your ... concern. Agent Via and his patron ... will give you the ... strength to endure what you must. And if ... you can endure no more ... I will be the strength ... to do ... what must be done."
|
|
Saul raises his eyebrow at Sielan. "Surely you have taken part in the time honored tradition of inebriated philosophy? You know, when you drink just enough that you think you're as smart as Kreighton Shaine and engage is intense philosophical discourse with your pals who have all imbibed a similar quantity? Then you keep drinking until you all black out and wake up the next morning with new insight into the workings of the planes... and a headache."
He laughs. "Good times had by all..."
Suddenly he snaps back to Nachts' mention of the inheritor's vessel. "Wait... Iomedae has a boat?"
|
|
Suddenly he snaps back to Nachts' mention of the inheritor's vessel. "Wait... Iomedae has a boat?"
"Now that I would like to see."
A wistful look comes over his face, followed by an easy smile.
She's a pretty lass from all accounts. I bet she would make for quite the adventure... if I could get her out of that armor for an hour or two.
At the request of hosts Canayven and Sheila Heidmarch, you have been invited to attend a private meeting at Heidmarch Manor. A large number of your fellow Pathfinders have clearly also been given a similar invitation, however the appearance of Sheila Heidmarch suggests all is about to be made clear.
She calls for your attention, and as the noise dies down she begins to speak.
”Dear friends, welcome to Magnimar and the newest Pathfinder Lodge—Heidmarch Manor. For those of you who do not yet know me, my name is Sheila Heidmarch—venture-captain of Magnimar. This lodge is also my home, which I share with my husband Canayven. While we are far from the comforts of the Grand Lodge at Absalom, we shall do our best to accommodate you with our humble Varisian hospitalities. My husband and I both spent many years in the field, so we know well what you do and appreciate that you have answered our summons. We are both extremely grateful to receive you and your support.”
“As you well know, Heidmarch Manor is a new lodge. Presently it is funded almost entirely from my own resources. Although I adore Magnimar, we have as many enemies here as friends. This being the case, I seek to court the favor of more powerful allies, specifically members of the Council of Ushers and the Office of the Lord Mayor.”
“This brings the conversation to our current situation. On one of their more recent salvage runs, the wondrous artificers of the Golemworks uncovered a strange relic while dredging stone from the bottom of Magnimar’s harbor. The relic appears to be some sort of a giant key, etched with ancient Thassilonian runes that their learned arcanists speculate may even predate the coming of the mysterious runelords. Because the key falls outside their area of expertise, the Golemworks donated the curious aritfact to the Office of the Lord Mayor. In turn, the Lord Mayor intends to auction off the key to the highest bidder in short order, to fund municipal projects. The auction will be run by the Cathedral of Abadar, gold in hand—meaning immediately after the final bid is accepted, the bidder must pay for his prize in full.”
“We want the key. However, we want it legally. Our establishment in Magnimar is relatively new and our footing tenuous. We need to secure more stable political relationships with the Lord Mayor’s office and the Council of Ushers to ensure the Society’s long term success in this city; especially since the Aspis Consortium already has such a strong foothold here. The legitimate purchase of the Runecarved Key from the local authorities would demonstrate our respect for the city’s government, which would go a long way toward improving our public image with these people.”
“That said, we can greatly increase our chances of winning the auction by persuading our competition to back out. While there are some we believe we can outbid, we are a new lodge with far fewer funds than many. Thus, we must find out who else is interested in the key, how much they can bid, and whether or not we can knock them out of the auction.”
“To assure our success, our espionage must be extensive. Therefore we have divided the task between our agents. While division stands to place field operatives in greater danger, we cannot risk revealing ourselves by working en mass. If you are discovered, we will disavow any association with you. We cannot aid you if you get arrested or fall into the clutches of the enemies of our Society. While this is unfortunate, I hope you can understand our position.”
”For now, please make yourselves at home. We have provided accommodations for each of your groups. Feel free to drop off your things and prepare yourselves. Then meet me in the manor’s theatre in five minutes.”
|
|
Saul facepalms. "It's a joke... like... you know how if you're in any dock town and someone mentions a vessel they mean a clipper or galleon or something? And Nachts here made mention of the Inheritor's Vessel... so if you were to make a deliberate misinterpretation of that statement for comedic effect..."
He looks at Caduceus for a moment then shakes his head. "Ok, I'll admit that was not my best work."
He quickly quiets down as Venture Captain Heidmarch begins to speak, then grins. "Well well, this sounds like it will be fun! Intrigue, deception, an auction, serpents in the fold... all of the KEY points needed for a tantalizing tale!"
He pauses for a few seconds. "Get it? KEY points? Heh?"
|
|
Draping a friendly arm across the half-orcs shoulders, Aelwynd simply shakes his head, lightly chuckling along with the joke, "Really clever use of words there Saul. It was funny. Really, it was. Here, let's have another drink. I'm interested to see where this leads."
Looking at Sielan he flashes a crooked smile, briefly looks around at the other pathfinders nearby, and leans closer, whispering, The hardest part about espionage, is spelling espionage. It's basically just a lot of whispering in shadows and understanding how people think. If you can overhear someone else talking, you are spying on them. It's that simple.
Then in a more normal tone, "We probably shouldn't bring our wayfinders along. Sort of a giveaway that we are with the Society if we have those."
After dropping off his wayfinder, and letting the others drop off any gear they don't feel like carrying, Aelwynd meets the group in the theater, as directed.
|
|
Sielan follows the trend as he sets aside his wayfinder and relaxes a bit following Aelwynd's lead.
"I'm thinking you are going to make everything out to be simple. Like Zey without being condescending. I'll take your word for it though."
Aelwynd smiles warmly, a breath upon his lips, but he says nothing. After a moment's pause, he replies to Sielan, "I will do my best to help this go smoothly."
"By Her Blade! Who keeps picking me for undercover work? I'd say I rather stick out. Well, nothing for it now."
With a look of mock innocence, Aelwynd turns his eyes to the ceiling and whispers to Caduceus, "I may have said something in passing to one of the higher ups once. I mean I can't be sure that's why, but, it could be..." A small grin creeps at the edge of his mouth for a fleeting moment before vanishing.
"I'm certain you will ... blend in. Like me" cackles Nachts.
"Well stated Nachts. The only way you could blend in is if everyone else had been struck blind.", he quickly works out a thought, "No. That will not be happening."
"Well in my experience, the first part of espionage is to show confidence in your cover story. Walk in like you own the place, then speak with authority! Works every time!"
He clearly shows little confidence in that approach.
"A little swagger does work from time to time." Aelwynd replies with confidence, followed by a wink. "But you bring up something of interest. The cover story. I suppose we should hear out the lovely Sheila on her plans before we come up with that." He looks around, craning his neck in search of something or someone, "Speaking of which, where is our lovely host?"
Even before the venture-captain arrives, the theater in Heidmarch Manor is crammed with Pathfinders. Heidmarch enters quietly, then slips through the crowd, takes the stage, and speaks. “Tonight, the Council of Ushers is sponsoring a pre-auction gala, to be hosted at the Cathedral of Abadar. During the party, the auctioneers intend to display the Runecarved Key in order to entice potential bidders. Anyone serious about entering the auction will be required to place a deposit of ten thousand gold coins in an escrow account at the cathedral.
“We need you to attend this event, both to submit our deposit as well as to determine who else might be interested in the key. While most of those attending received invitations, the event is semi-private and open to anyone with enough money to place serious bids. While the city provided me with an invitation, my appearance would give our many enemies cause for suspicion. For this reason, I ask that all of you go in my stead, and enter as my proxies. Still, we do not want out enemies to speculate on our own intentions. For this reason you must keep a low profile and avoid seeming too eager about the key. Each of you will be given a portion of the full deposit to take to the temple to present to Proctor Imikar”
|
|
"Ah! Mingling with crowds is something I'm wonderful at! Keeping a low profile though... well, there's a first time for everything!"
Saul stashes his Wayfinder and pulls out his flute. "Perhaps we could claim to be representatives of Nigel Aldain? If anyone so much as thinks that he is considering putting it into that infernal museum, maybe they'll all scatter?"
|
|
Once you have received your briefing, Sheila gives you a strong box containing a portion of the deposit. You make your way to the Cathedral of Abadar. Upon your arrival, you witness a steady stream of guests ascending the stairs and entering the cathedral’s main sanctuary, where the viewing is being held. Rows of temple warriors wearing white tabards stitched with the golden key of Abadar flank the main entrance. Their hands clenched tightly around their gleaming swords as they stand almost motionless, ever-vigilant stares upon their faces.
As you enter, various low-level priests invite you to partake in food and beverages while you mingle about. You decide to deposit your funds first. One of the acolytes directs you to Proctor Jyronn Imikar, a pleasant Osirian priest who runs the temple. Imikar accepts your deposit and writes something in his ledger. You wouldn’t be proper pathfinders if you did not use the opportunity to attempt to see some of the writing. After a moment Proctor Imikar closes the book ”Thank you for entering the auction, will you also thank madam Heidmarch on my behalf?”
None
None
And indeed, whilst Solomon and Caduceus miss a look, the rest of you immediately catch the names.