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The party finds themselves in an opera house, enjoying excellent seats in the Karcau near the northern border of the haunted region known as Ustalav.
Seated alongside you, a lean Ustalavic noblewoman watches the show with detached enthusiasm. She turns slowly, the crimson of her elegant gown a contrasting starkly with her dark hair, pale skin, and sharp features. She gestures for the party to remain quiet while the performance goes on.
During an intermission, she gestures again, this time for the attending usher to leave.
“Thank you for coming. I am Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff, currently without a home lodge. The Decemvirate requested that I speak with you here, in private, to discuss a problem that needs sorted out. I trust you’ve heard of Skeldon Miregrold?”
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"Most certainly," comes the response, a cultured and perfectly enunciated woman's voice. Sitting beside the tiefling is a rather stand-out woman dressed in gaudy, expensive duelist's attire in blues, whites, and golds. She wears a white frilled scarf around her neck and a broad-brimmed, feather-bedecked hat, as well as an assortment of glittering jewels and gems. Her hair is a dark blue - almost black, but still definitely unnatural - while her eyes shine bright like sapphires, up until this point firmly locked onto the performance. She's quite the contrast to the infernal-touched Sarenite, elfin in physique (including pointed ears) and yet definitely touched with something a little beyond this world.
"Why, Skeldon Miregrold is..."
Liadain is aware that Skeldon is a former Pathfinder agent, risen through the ranks and now Venture Captain of the Karcau Lodge - operating out of his ancestral manor house. He built his reputation during his active years exploring the dangerous Darklands. He's known for being extremely bright and suspicious but being careless when it comes to his agent's lives, often sending them on wasteful suicide missions.
She's heard that his Lodge contains a network of subterranean chambers that house most of the Society’s assets at the location and provide access to even larger caverns that stretch out below Karcau.
"Yes, that's correct", Basia says with a polite nod. "You are very well informed."
“He’s quite renowned in our little Society, though, few would boast of associating with him. When his father passed, Skeldon invested most of his sizable inheritance in illicit trade operations with the dark denizens that dwell below this city. Though he is valuable as a font of knowledge about the subterranean passages below — and the Darklands in general — he’d sell out his dying mother if he thought he could profit from it."
"Despite my personal warnings, the Decemvirate granted him permission to open a lodge in Karcau, though this grant came with several stipulations. As I’d suspected, none of these conditions have been met. The Society requested Skeldon send them his research notes along with some samples of a rare mineral he’s being experimenting with called aureolyte. Neither the notes nor the samples ever arrived. Furthermore, it’s been a month since Skeldon contacted the Decemvirate, who are increasingly concerned about the additional finances they granted him to conduct his research. Other sources have led us to believe he has squandered this money for his own purposes and owes significant sums to one of Karcau’s most influential crime families."
"That’s what we need you for. Make your way to the Karcau Lodge and present Skeldon with these transfer orders.” She slides a stack of sealed envelopes across the table. “Once inside, try to collect whatever information you can about Skeldon, his side deals, and the kind of trouble he’s in. It would be even better if you could procure copies of his research and a sample of aureolyte. The Manor sits on a sizable hillside property just south of town. Any questions?”
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The young Dwarf lass sits listening to the performance, her aspect distracted as she struggles to follow the Varisian of the score. When Kalistoff speaks to them she seems relieved. She is dressed in simple-cut, respectable attire in yellow and green, stylized Dwarven runes mixed with geometric patterns along the hems of her skirt.
Back at the inn, it took quite some convincing to get her to leave the antique Greataxe she carried with her behind. She has been uneasy since.
"A simple delivery? Is a team of Pathfinders to be messengers? Clearly you suspect it won't be so simple. What do you suspect about Miregold?" she asks bluntly in a soft voice.
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"It's never that simple," the Taldan lady agrees with a smirk. "Although I do wonder why the Decemvirate thought it was a good idea to ally with such an honourless cretin in the first place..."
Lia clears her throat politely. "Never mind that, for now. Ma'am, might you know a little more about the crime family? Are they Sczarni, or something else? Perhaps our friend Skeldon has been dealt with by them for not repaying his debts."
"Oh," she adds a moment later, finger on her chin in curious thought, "and what of these dark denizens he supposedly traded with? What are we dealing with here? Perhaps his end of a bargain there was due..."
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"Au-re-o-lyte." The halfling rolls the word over in his mouth, as if expecting to detect some subtler flavor of meaning. "Kar-cau."
"How much, how much money is at stake here, if you mind our asking," he pipes in. "Oh nevermind, nevermind, I suppose you would. Sounds like a rather unsavory fellow, this Skeldon Miregrold, though I am certain the Society had no knowledge of the extend of these dealings when they first awarded his grant." He pats the stack of envelopes, his expression beaming reassurance.
"Skel-don. Mi-re-grold."
"Miregold is clever. I have no doubt the truth will be hidden from plain sight."
"I'm afraid I don't know much about what crime family he's in debt to or for how much. The nature of the way we do business makes certain details impossible to determine. I don't believe it's the Sczarni. I don't think they're influence reaches this far."
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"In that case - and assuming there are no more questions from my illustrious allies - we should be off as soon as the performance ends," Lia says with a smile, happy to turn her attentions back to the Ustalavic theatre for now. "I'm confident we will have no problems in doing this for you, Lady Kalistoff."
Eventually the performance winds to a close and the party prepares to depart. Before you leave, Venture-Captain Kalistoff leans forward and in a hushed voice says: “On a personal note, I was the initial candidate for venture-captain of the Karcau Lodge. Behind my back, Miregrold went to the Decemvirate and bid me out of the position while his agents traveled throughout this city, slandering my reputation. I would love to restore the damage he’s done to my tarnished family name, but he precluded this through his bribes and blackmail. Thus, I have a strong personal interest in seeing the Decemvirate bring him to his knees. If you succeed in this endeavor, you will earn my eternal gratitude. I hope to soon be in a position to make it worth your while. Godspeed.”
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Liadain flips her feathered hat off her head with deft ease, holding it to her chest as she bows to the venture-captain. "With pleasure, m'lady. I'd be happy to see this kind of scum get what's coming to him." As she fits her hat back on her head, she gives Kalistoff a knowing wink. "With appropriate prudence, of course..."
As the Pathfinders set out for the Karcau Lodge, Liadain pauses with a definite frown. "Goodness, how rude of me! I've yet to properly introduce myself." She clears her throat and offers a large smile, looking in the eyes of each of the other three in turn (plus any resident eidolons, of course). "My name is Liadain Serelion, and it is a pleasure to work with you. Oh--but do call me Lia, if you prefer!"
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The halfling hops down from his seat.
"Barham Topperbush, at your service." He accentuates the announcement by wiggling his bare toes through the plush carpeting.
"My companion, my companion Scrumpy, I will introduce later," he adds. "I left him to wait outside." Whether the summoner means the building or the plane is anyone's guess.
"But we are quite the crowd. Quite the crowd, are we not?" His gaze bounces across the eclectic features of his seatmates. "Angels, demons, and dwarves! Heavens, hells, and the mountains between. Yes, we ought to be prepared for any eventuality."
The party picks up Marla’s ‘uncle’ without incident. A couple hours later they arrive at their destination.
The Karcau Lodge is located in the manor of a modest hillside estate just south of the city that overlooks Karcau’s opulent spires and vaulted roofs. A lone cobbled path traverses the property, weaving through copses of dully-colored, gangly trees and overgrown grass. Eventually, the path makes its way toward a small two-story manor house built in the classic Ustalavic style. Its steep roof is shingled with dark slate, and elaborately carved bargeboard highlights its high cross gables. Its lead framed windows rise in slender, cathedral-like arches. A pair of pointed turrets flanks the manor’s thick, iron-shod front doors.
Brak eyes the Pathfinders. "Hrm. Fiendblood. Celestialblood. Halfling." he says. "Brak Gunddur's the name. Yer lucky you've got two Dwarves in this party." he says.
Marla rolls her eyes. "Be nice, Uncle." she says to him.
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Lia firmly shakes Brak's hand, oblivious (wilfully or otherwise) to his obvious dissatisfaction at the lack of other dwarves present. "Lucky indeed! Good to have you on board. And family, too! How nice to travel with your niece."
Upon arriving at the Karcau Lodge, the aasimar has a quick look up and down the grounds before confidently striding up to the front entrance. She politely knocks at the door; if there is no answer, she'll try the knob and open it.
A knock on the front door yields no results. Trying the knob reveals it to be locked.
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Behind Barham, a block-headed, rough-coated creature lopes up on four paws. Its shoulders rise and fall with panting breaths, at their lowest point still a few inches above those of its master. A pink tongue lolls out between ample jowls.
The halfling turns around to greet his companion.
"See anything, Scrumpy?" With his small, hairy hand the summoner rubs the arcane mark inscribed upon the beast's brow. The nature of the symbol is difficult to make out, obscured by wrinkled layers of fur.
Scrumpy sniffs the air, blinks his eyes, and grunts.
"Hmmm. Neither do I, neither do I."
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Lia shrugs and shakes her head. "Not in the traditional sense of things, no... however," she steps away from the main door and has a look around, "we may be able to find a back entrance somewhere around here. Worst comes to worst, we break a window and force our way in. Shall we do a scout of the grounds?"
Assuming nobody protests, the bard will take a quick walk around the perimeter of the mansion, looking for any possible alternate entries, whether doors, low-lying windows that would be easy to jump through, or perhaps any open windows on an upper floor somewhere.
Baz detects no evil presences.
Doing a quick circuit of the building, Liadain spots a number of windows on the first floor but they’re all intact and covered by curtains on the inside. She finds another door on the rear of the building.
The backdoor is similarly locked.
Baz slams into the door but finds it to be very sturdy.
Footsteps can be heard from indoors coming from the second floor.
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Lia stands back and keeps a watch for any sign of movement from the second floor.
"Well, they know we're here now," she says cheerfully, "so we might as well not worry about making noise. Go on, bash into it a few times until you get it!"
Easy words to say for someone not doing any of the hard work, but...
Baz spots, through a gap in the curtains, two men and a woman dressed in noble clothing over leather armor coming down the stairs. They look upset.
Baz does not detect the presence of evil.
The sound of a lock being undone from the other side can be heard and the door opens a moment later to reveal two well dressed human men and a woman. All wear Wayfinders around their necks.
"What's the meaning of this intrusion?" the man in front shouts. "Who are you and why are you banging on our door?"
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"Hello there!" Lia calls out with a brilliant smile. "Apologies for the strange intrusion, friends! We're from the Pathfinder Society--as are you, I suppose, judging by your wayfinders."
"We're here on official Society business, but the front door seemed to be locked and there was no answer when I knocked. Good thing we got your attention around the back! Might we come in for a chat, then?"
"Pathfinders? Of course. Come in and refresh yourselves. We'll have some tea", the woman says.
Scrumpy whines and paws at Barham's leg.
The man nods and turns to head back into the house.
Brak's bushy eyebrows raise and he pushes over to be next to Marla, whispering to her in Dwarven.
The party is lead into the center of the house to a small entertaining area. The woman leaves.
”Andrea will get us some tea. You must all be exhausted. You’re obviously not from around here”, one of the men says as he gestures to several well-upholstered chairs.