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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.
In anticipation for Heidmarch's brief, you find yourself gathered and organized by the representatives of the manor. You have been assigned to team "Super Hyper Team Alpha".
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A ravishingly handsome half-elf struts into Heidmarch Manor. His features are accentuated by the finest jewelry and gear. A small school of IOUN stones orbit his head. In his hand he holds a multicolored staff that looks like living fire as it moves. There's a strange starmetal chain that connects his staff to his wrist, the likes of which you've never seen.
"Ah greetings! It has been some time, but I do know some of you. The Dove, it's been a while. Rathen, I don't think I've seen you since that unpleasantness at the top of the Tower... Terrible business that was. How's your mother these days?"
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Well accustomed to these kinds of summons, Rathen stands in Heidmarch Manor with an air of readiness. The Varisian man's armor gleams with a celestial glow, and a pair of adamantine gladii are strapped to his hips. He has a trio of ioun stones floating around him too, including an ominous ochre rhomboid.
"She's still too old for you, half-elf," the rogue says, smiling still to his old friend. "I read a few chronicles of your exploits. And no, not those exploits. You've been busy, haven't you?"
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"Kayanor and Cathran, I heard! Begus mentioned that he was mentoring one of them in the finer arts of magic. Glad to see you're finally acknowledging some of your progeny too."
He then walks over to the Dove, and gives the pacifist a bow. "It is good to see you too, my friend. Too many turns of the sun have passed since we traveled together."
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"Har! I made it just in time", roars a man... or possibly a small hairy giant. "Ursus Haradra. Ursus the Breaker to most folks around here. Well met! It's been a long time since the Ten have called in this many Seekers."
Ursus is a huge bear of a man, standing over two meters tall and more than half as broad. He is gifted with the hulking musculature that makes his people sought out as bodyguards, his massive limbs and chest
thick with great slabs of muscle and crisscrossed with ragged scars. A wild mane of burnished gold frames his rugged features and drapes down to his impossibly broad shoulders.
He wears little more than shaggy furs draped down his shoulders and across his hips but his brawny flesh being exposed doesn't seem to cause him any discomfort. Tucked into a sheath at his hip is a simple dagger but he carries no other weapons. A blackened iron emblem of a feminine figure wrapped in flowing sashes dangles alongside a brightly polished wayfinder midway down his bulging pectorals.
Without waiting for a full set of introductions, Ursus swallows up the hands of the other seekers within his own enormous paw. In the case of most, that handshake quickly transitions into a bone-crushing hug.
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Castamir looks about, "I have to see a man about a dog." and then promptly teleports away.
Not a moment later, a stoic man walks through the door to Heidmarch manor. "That was Castamir, wasn't it?" there is a distinctive tilt to the ranger's voice, bespeaking a tone of friendly rivalry.
The man is of slightly above average height, and of solid but compact build. Like the erstwhile Castamir, his gear is of the finest quality. There's something about his armored that seems off, as if the light in the room refuses to land on it. Across his back is a bow that looks like it's out of a child's storybook. Wicked looking, it has begun to earn a reputation among the Society, Decision has felled many a foe.
Still, the most striking thing isn't the man, or his gear. The most striking sight is the horse-sized wolf in mithral barding pacing just behind him. The wolf's eyes stay gimlet, though he paces with a relaxed gait....
"Please to meet you all, though I know some of you through reputation, and I believe I've met The Dove and Rathen as we hang at the same Lodge."
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"Please to meet you all, though I know some of you through reputation, and I believe I've met The Dove and Rathen as we hang at the same Lodge."
The Dove, Bishop, and Rathen get pulled into the huge man's embrace shortly after they arrive. The ranger's lupine pet/mount gets a rough rustling of his head fur.
"I do miss the missions when I was regular field agent", Ursus admits with a slightly melancholic tone. "There was so many opportunities to see the world and meet new people. It's been tougher and tougher to find someone willin' to step into the ring with me these last few years."
"What lodge were the three of you working from?"
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When he's able to breathe again, Rathen says, "I get around, but I do make a point of visiting the Iron Fellowship Lodge. A lot of my old travel companions loiter there."
"Of course, I've got my own lodge now. Set myself up a nice inn and gambling hall in Varisia called The Wyrm's Teeth. If you know the area, it's not too far from Sandpoint. Met my wife there even, though she's taken to pathfinding these days. Which is fine, because I think she needs the time away from me."
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.”
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Ursus grins like a fool and claps the ranger on the shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short! Anyone can be persuasive in the right crowd. If nothing else, everyone needs a good wingman." The huge wrestler explains with a wink.
"I'm no bard but folks tend to listen when I speak. Hells, the girls at the Silver Tabby on the Dockway drop just about whatever they're doin' when they hear me show up."
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A lanky human with a scruffy beard staggers over. "I feel like I should be somewhere else right now," he mutters.
With a focusing of his eyes and will he mingles with the small group. I'll be joining you for this mission. Name's Valrar, experienced VC and fighter. I can also talk an efreet into a lake and can defy most of the laws of physics. Please don't ask me how, I don't know, though my working theory is that the gods like me."
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Shortly behind the human follows a cloud strange gases and crystals. Those well-versed in the Outer Planes recognize it as a paracletus aeon, a weaker subspecies that observe particularly intelligent or charming individuals. Which leads one to wonder why it is pursuing this strange drunkard.
Into the minds of all present, an image is projected of the aeon interposing itself between a sword-bearing Valrar and some equally scruffy people. It seems to be conveying the message that it keeps him in relative order.
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"Very subtle," Valrar groans. "This is the Ambassador. Started following me around a while back, won't stop. Keeps calling for 'cessation of submission to unstable forces with the potential for multiverse-wide threat' or some such silliness. S'like a parole officer. It's not all bad, though; provides some incredible know-how on the baddies I fight. The thing's a genius!"
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Daxter walks in just as the briefing begins. A rather slim man wearing the trappings of a businessman, he looks to be fairly young but rather experienced. On his shoulder is a raven who seems very intelligent. He sighs as he recognizes Ursus. "I'm sure it is so they can flee in terror much like with other hairy beasts. I am Daxter, Seeker and an expert in making business deals. At the very least compared some people."
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”
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Once you have received your briefing, Sheila gives you a strong fortified box containing a portion of the deposit. Soon enough, you make your way to the said Cathedral of Abadar. A building built with perfect balance, symmetrical on every side. 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 clench 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 it be best to deposit your funds prior to engaging in anything else. 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?”
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After depositing the funds you take a drink and find something to munch on. While you do, a squat man in white robes steps upon the cathedral dais to address the room. He Introducies himself as the sexton of Magnimar’s High Cathedral of Abadar, and greets his guests with a broad, welcoming smile. “Good evening, friends! I’m pleased to see so many of our distinguished and honored guests attending and able to join us on this merry occasion. For those of you not fortunate enough to have participated in our pre-auction festivities, please feel free to take part in all the luxuries and wonders within these halls. And with my welcome, I have the pleasure unveiling the auction’s feature lot. Enjoy!”
With the utterance of the final words, he pulls aside the veil, displaying a gigantic key. It stands roughly three feet tall and is made of stone etched with glowing arcane symbols. The crowd applauds and people turn back to their companions to discuss the key. The crowd is an eclectic mix of landholders, merchants, and other notable figures from all over Varisia, wide-eyed and curious to glimpse the mysterious Runecarved Key. Hired servants weave through the crowd bearing luxurious platters of fruits, sweetbreads, and oysters or trays topped with crystal goblets of heady red wine. Guests mingle slowly, socializing amicably but cautiously with longtime acquaintances, as they feel out potential competitors.
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Much as Valrar is interested in the Aspis representative, his Pathfinder instincts tell him less investigation is warranted on him. I mean, because we already know he's a bad guy who we'll probably kill. Having accomplished this Herculean feat of logic, he instead focuses on meeting Doctor Ernst Landis.
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Valrar wanders off in search for the Aspis representative. Asking around the house, it does not take long for Valrar to be able to identify the man. A gaunt, fashionably dressed Chelaxian handshakes his way through the main room, accompanied by a half-dozen followers who appear to be equal parts attendant and bodyguard. This would have to be Maiveer Sloan, head of Magnimar’s chapter of the Aspis Consortium.
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The crowd is full of various participants, as one would expect of such a prestigious occasions, political figures, aristocrats, wealthy merchants and the likes. All somewhat merrily enjoying the company of each other, mingling, drinking and munching. Not much out of the ordinary occurs at the moment.
Perhaps two individuals catch Rathen's and Bishop's eye. Near the front of the gathering, vying for a look at the key, stands a balding, weathered old man wearing heavy robes stitched with runes. Despite his age, his face beams with a boyish grin as he gazes at the curious artifact. And a figure moving slowly through the crowd, an uncomely woman with large teeth and a shrewlike nose, dressed unbecomingly in the drab clothing of a stevedore. Slight in stature with a slightly stooped posture, she behaves in a mostly standoffish manner. Slipping to the edge of the crowd, she nervously waits for the key. Spotting the artifact, she make a few quick notes then slips off into the crowd.
One particular woman immediately catches the eye of Ursus. A strikingly handsome Chelaxian woman with deep, dark eyes and black hair steps forward to admire the key. She is richly dressed in a flowing gown cut to the very latest in Magnimarian fashion. Whether she is loved or not, is yet to be seen.
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Ursus breaks away from the crowd to join the striking woman admiring the key. He glances at her a moment longer than would be appropriate and then turns his attention to the artifact.
"It's an interesting piece, though I'm not sure it's worth all this commotion. What do you think? See anything that catches you interest?" the brawny Seeker asks with a smirk and twinkle in his eye.
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Once again, the details of who the illustrious Duchesses could be elude Daxter. He seems to have poor way with the nobles, and tends to find himself in the wrong crowds.
Ursus seems to have struck luck, as the woman he engages seems to be amiable to his presence, eyeing him first from top to bottom prior to conversation. He seems hit a sweet spot in the conversation as she immediately goes on a ramble.
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As Bishop nods to the very out of place looking wererat, wearing clothes that are threadbare and generally don't fit her well, she start to move toward the exits of the building.
Much like the Aristocrat, Bishop finds himself engaged in merry conversation with the male individual.
The man seems very excited, and goes on about the key, he doesn't seem to be hiding any motives from you.
"Good day to you! I am Doctor Ernst Landis, and you have asked the right person. Why, I believe this to be a very significant artefact historically, I haven't proved it yet, but I'm certain about it! I have my theories, that Emperor Xin used created it in other to unlock a temple of seven paradises."
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Rathen finds himself holding the short end of the stick when it comes to socializing. The wererat finds it distressing that Rathen is in her way as she tries to best move around him to leave. She doesn't return his greeting and looks to make her conversation forced.
"Uh, sure, interesting...excuse me, I'd like to go home."
She seems to be very disinterested in the artefact.
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Asking around for the woman named Kresch Vaor yields investing interesting results. Hailing from Underbridge, she’s not particularly well-known but everyone points out that her clothing is threadbare and doesn’t fit her well, making her stick out among the gala’s generally fashionable guests.
Wearing secondhand clothes is common among residents of Magnimar’s poorer districts, who are otherwise not well represented theis evening.
Rathen soon comes to a realization, the woman he had let pass him, who has now left the Gala is the individual named Kresch Vaor.