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You all gather yourself outside the Overflow Archives, one of the Grand Lodge’s outbuildings, at the request of the Master of Scrolls, Kreighton Shane. Kreighton Shane however is not alone, Paracountess Zarta Draineen, and an inexperience looking fella, he clearly is one of you as he has a wayfinder visible in his upper right pocket.
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A young Kellid man walks up. Like many of his kind, he’s tall with long, well-muscled limbs. Unlike many of his kind, though, he doesn’t wear the customary kellid leathers and furs. Flexible, darkleaf armor fits snugly over practical, rugged soldiering clothes and boots. And on one shoulder rests the heavy blade of a massive two-handed sword. The rest of his gear is what most pathfinders have come to expect … a travel pack, vials, and pouches.
He stops in front of Master Shane, his dark eyes touching on the inexperienced-looking man before returning his scowl to the Master of Scrolls. ”Talon. Reporting in, sir.”
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A small gnome, blue of skin and looking as though they hadn't a care in the world glides up. There is a small chunk of ice floating nearby, as if an animate barrier. The gnome appears to be holding a conversation with it. Upon reaching you, Dax breaks off talking to the ice and begins addressing the assembled group. "Master Shane, Lady Dralneen." A brief nod of the head is given to the master of scrolls and the head of the dark archive before continuing, "What brings us here this day?" Dax assumes that those of import have already been briefed on names, which is likely a false assumption but it is one made.
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Bambang stands tall for a Tian-Sing, and he is well-built and muscular, quite different from their usual slight frame. Otherwise, as per usual Tian-Sing culture, his head is shaved and covered with tattoos of geometric designs. He is garbed in a set of ancient-looking full plate armor intricately carved with designs of barongs, asuras, devas, nagas and other exotics creatures. Across his back hangs a well-crafted but similarly ancient looking greatsword. Despite his warrior garb however, he carries himself in a poised and noble-like bearing.
Bambang nods at Master Shane, whom he had studied under briefly to learn more about his psychic powers. Seeing a number of unfamiliar faces, he looks at everyone and introduces himself in a warm but formal tone. "Good day. My name is Bambang, son of Kuwat, heir of the chieftain of the Menguam Singa clan of Tengah Pulu, Emerald Isle of the Minata Archipelago," he introduces himself with a warm but formal tone.
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Ai blinks at the others, taking them in for a moment, then brushes her long crimson hair out of her eye and sticks out a slender hand. "Hi! I'm Ai!" One hand plays idly with a fox mask produced from a pocket in her green-and-yellow robes, and she winks at Talon before turning to the others. "Before we begin, do you have a moment to hear the gloriful, splendiforous wisdom of Picoperi? Excellent! Picoperi says 'What do you call a holistic gnome doctor? A gnomeopath!'" Ai grins a wide grin, waiting for a response.
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Dax was about to respond to Ai, but was never given the chance. "I find that less than humorous," Dax says in a neutral tone. "Being a holistic gnome healer myself, at least." The gnome's brow furrows. "Calling me such would surely lead me to not exert myself on your behalf in the future." A humorless one, this.
"Why are we here?" Dax asked in irritation, again.
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At the moment of your conversations, master Kreighton Shaine and Paracountess Zarta Dralneen look lost in thought, ignoring the rest of the group, as they are in shock of the damages at hand. The overflow archives, where countless of documents are kept, a library of sorts, is flooded!
“I have no love of puns,” announces a peeved Kreighton Shaine, the Master of Scrolls in the Grand Lodge, “Yet it cannot go unremarked that the Overflow Archives have begun living up to their name.” The pale elf gestures across the library’s stone lobby toward a pair of shut double doors from beneath which water steadily seeps. He is only one of the midnight visitors bearing witness to this disaster.
Next to Shaine, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen stands with folded arms, glaring at an initiate whose hair and clothes are utterly drenched. All three speak at once, but Shaine’s shrill voice rises above the din. “Magical shenanigans in the archives are prohibited, especially this soon before the Grand Convocation!”
“Let us prioritize,” Dralneen suggests. ]“Are the artifacts within the vaults in danger?”
“How should I know?” Shaine barks back. “This delinquent initiate— what was the name? Wormell?”
“Virml, sir,” replies the sodden Pathfinder.
“Virml says he sneaked into the archives on a dare,” summarizes Shaine, painfully emphasizing the initiate’s name with scolding disdain. “Presumably, he thought the holdings would be harmless. Instead, in his naivete, Virml triggered some dormant curse or other. So, yes, thanks to Virml here, the archives and the vaults below continue to flood, threatening all the books therein.”
Miserably, Virml holds up an armload of soggy manuscripts. “I salvaged a few, sir.”
Sighing, Shaine leads Virml towards the stairs. “Take them up to the scriptorium. Start making dry copies.” Then, turning to survey the rest of the room, he continues issuing orders. “The remainder of you should wade in there and plumb the origins of this deluge. Stop it, if you can. I must report this debacle to my colleagues and begin organizing the cleanup.” Abruptly, he seems to notice the paracountess for the first time. “What are you doing here, Dralneen?”
Zarta smirks and shrugs. “Unlike you, Shaine, I love a good pun.”
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"Flooded? Bambang looks dumbfounded, his measured nature broken. "But all the records! All the relics? They..." He makes a visible effort to calm down. "Yes, we need to make haste to staunch the flood and save whatever we can." He looks down with some concern at his heavy armor before asking, "Just how flooded is it? Would we need to swim? To breath underwater?"
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"No love of puns?" Ai looks even more dumbfounded, shutting her eyes and turning away from the Master of Scrolls for most of the duration of their briefing. The short woman mutters jokes without punchlines to herself, and by the end, she's managed to find her center again.
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that, Paracountess!" Ai reaches out and grabs Dralneen's hand, pumping it up and down repeatedly. "As a priestess of the great and wise Picoperi, I'm blessed with hundreds of his finest puns. Perhaps I could share some with you sometime? We could talk about it after we've finished in here?"
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Talon gives Ai a small wave and equally small smile, though his expression falls back to a stony scowl at the exchange between her and Dax.
Luckily, Shane takes the reigns of the conversation, and Talon is thankful to get swept up in the familiarity of a briefing ... as unexpected as this one turns out to be.
He nods at Bambang's astute question, but shifts his attention over to the culprit of this mess. "What was done that started the flooding? Where were you in there when it happened?"
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Kreigthon Shane looks immediately at the sodden Pathfinder, in somewhat of a disdain look. The Pathfinder immediately replies to Bambang's query in a timid manner. "mmm, some swimming may be required? I don't know for sure...", his answer followed by sighs from all around.
The Paracountess looks humoured but declines the offer gracefully from Ai, "I'm so sorry, but I have important matters to attend to at the moment, maybe some other time, you all may require a lot of time in the archives.
Virml sheepishly relates to Talon's question , “I…I merely picked up a wee scroll, read part of it aloud for fun— some kind of riddle about birds and fish? And then it flew to bits in my hand, and I caught the quickest glimpse of a handsome man…and then ker-sploosh! I washed out here!”
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Dax wades into the water, gleeful as one might expect from a hydrokineticist. "So, we are to be surrounded by glorious water for the duration of this mission?" Something that likely has the rest of the party rather displeased seems to be a source of utmost joy to little Dax. The ice shield bobs along, suspended by will though it also seems to move with a bit more cheer. (How one can tell with a block of ice is anyone's guess).
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Virml sheepishly produces a dripping fragment of a scroll. Shaine snatches the parchment and hands it over, saying “It appears to be one of the rhymes from The Name of the Fox. It’s an odd little scroll of Varisian doggerel, scripted in Sylvan. There’s nothing remarkable about it—”
“Nothing until now, perhaps?” quips Zarta Dralneen.
May the winner wear gold while the loser eats crow Knowing nothing save that which he knew not to know.Cross! Cross was the owl at the albatross For catching the bulk of the fish So the owl cast deeper, awaking a sleeper Who made of both feathers one dish.
At question of the handsome man, Virml looks around the room and points towards Ai, "Much like that but much much more handsome."
Kreigthon Shane then sours, "That's not important! You must go immediately! This nonsense has to be stopped! Right now!"You can see he is visibly irritated.
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Hanzo stays at the back of the group, like he always does during briefings, and remains silent. At the end of the conversations, before the group enters, he dryly quips.
Well, this is certainly an unexpected mission for one so attuned to fire...
The ifrit warrior gives the group a wry grin before putting on a mask that causes his mouth to look like that of a snake about to strike, with fangs outstretched.
He takes up the lead, checking for traps and staying silent as they approach the doors.
My training in Minkaya as an infiltrator is quite useful in places like this. I'll be watching for anything unpleasant, as traps are common in places with valuable goods.
He flexes his arms and cracks his knuckles, and a little driblet of fire falls from his hands.
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Bambang does not like the idea of swimming, not in his heavy armor, but he hopes his natural strength would carry him through. Before entering the room, he pulls out a wand and manages to activate it on himself. After stowing it, he draws his mighty sword and moves to the front of the group.
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The pathfinders are lead into the entrance foyer of the archives, it is oval in shape with some shelves, north of you, there is a two big double swinging doors that marks the entrance to the main archive, some water is seen seeping out from under the door.
To your east, there is a stairway leading to the sriptorium that Virml starts to climb with the soggy manuscripts, presumably to make copies as directed by the Master of Scrolls.
Hanzo and Bambang are pulled to the side for a short while for a chat with their faction leader.
“The Dark Archive thrives by the good graces of the Decemvirate and Ambrus Valsin, yet I can tell that some still doubt our ability to handle truly dangerous relics and the rare disaster like this. As a result, there remain many storerooms barred to our comprehensive study, including the Overflow Archives—until today, that is. It is critical that you minimize the damage to these archives and do so in as professional a manner as possible. If I can demonstrate that my agents are capable and trustworthy, we may win permission to study the truly mysterious treasures beneath the Grand Lodge.”
She shrugs and smiles before continuing. “That said, I know that there is more than junk beyond those doors. I’ve heard that someone squirreled away a copy of The Darklands Precepts somewhere in there, and it’s far too dangerous a tome to leave lying about. Get it out of there and return it to me, no matter what excuse Shaine might make to toss it back in the pile.”
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Opening the door, reveals the mess that is. This spacious library is a damp catastrophe. A lake of dark water clogged with books, scroll cases, and a few overturned shelves obscures the floor. Steps descend into the brine from the western doors, while at the far north end of the room a spiral staircase rises from the water to a mezzanine above. The same metal staircase must descend into a basement below as well, for the water there burbles downward in a dark, lazy whirlpool.
There is a small drain on the west of the room, near the entrance, it seems to be clogged with papers/scrolls
In the distance, near the spiral staircase, you notice two figures on a makeshift boat, created by one of the shelves in this area nonetheless, they look to be fishing?
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As the party enters the waterlogged archives, Ai slips behind Talon, then taps him on the shoulder before ducking to his other side. Giggling, she whistles as she walks away without saying a word.
Once inside, Ai hones in on the two fisher-people, switching to her human form to be less alarming and hiking up her robes to get through the water. As she gets closer to the boat, she waves excitedly and starts talking in an excited voice. "Whale, whale, whale, what do we have here? Two fishers in the archives? I reely can't believe it!" She looks back to the party and winks. "Enough squidding around, though. I'm looking for a handsome man. Don't suppose you'd let minnow if you'd seen one around here today?"
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As you approach the figures, you notice that they don't look like normal creatures, they can only be described as medium sized creatures wearing grey and green light armor, they have grand wings, and one of them has the head of an owl, and the other one, an albatross!
Behind them, spurts of water fall from the mezzanine deck through the spiral stairs. The flow isn't continuous or consistent.
Prior to your approach, you hear them bickering with each other, over a parchment. "Hey I caught that! This should be mine!" the owl bickers.
"YEAH, but I saw it first! You didn't even notice it!"Rebukes the albatross.
You recognized these creatures as Gathlains.
According to some fey ballads, gathlains were one of the first peoples awakened in the primal world of fey. They were created from the seeds of an enormous magical tree, with the tree’s mistletoe grown into their flesh forming their strange wings.
Mischievous and capricious, these creatures have discordant temperaments. They act purely to entertain themselves and sate their immense curiosity about the world around them. That very curiosity has caused many to migrate to the Material Plane and adventure there. These gathlains seek out and attempt to mingle with gnomes. However, gnomes often find gathlains too undisciplined, random, and foolish for their tastes.
As Ai approaches them, they both stop bickering towards each other and take out their anger on her! "Hey Hey! Funny girl. Don't come any closer! You're spoiling our spot, you'll chase away our fish!" They start waving their fishing spear and rods at you completely ignoring what you said!
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Before stepping into the room, Bambamg focuses mentally on the headband tied around his head, calling forth its spirit to grant him sharper wit.
As soon as the door is opened, Bambang's eyes immediately zoom into the two creatures, and recognises them for what they are.
He whispers to his party before they get closer. "They are Gathlains, one of the first peoples awakened in the fey world. Be careful. Although not overtly hostile, they can be mischievous and capricious, having very discordant temperaments. They act purely to entertain themselves and sate their immense curiosity about the world around them."
Bambang wades into the water together with his team. Knowing that he does not have the gift of gab, he stays silent for fear of rubbing these fickle creatures the wrong way.
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Dax approaches, and decides that being water focused at the moment, that is how you should engage them. "Hello, good creatures. I am Dax Rya, of water, and I can aid you. I can bring fish to you, should any be here. I can direct the water to flow to you." Dax is being honest, as the gnome can create currents directed toward the fey. "Might we have that scroll, and once I direct the waters be on our way?"
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Hanzo's unclogging of the drains proved to a feeble attempt to drain out Water, he picks up mostly unlegible papers. The water level does not change.
Meanwhile, the two comically shout in with some hint of sarcasm reply to the nagaji,
"Fish! Duh!"
"That's obvious.."
"Your blue friend seems to know what she's talking about, listen to her!"
"Umm, I don't think so, this be precious to me."
"Heeeyyy, that's mine!
And they continue bickering.
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Dax considers the options before continuing, "Surely fish are better than a little scrap of paper..." And with that, Dax begins waving arms to and fro in rhythmic gestures, causing water currents within the area to flow towards their new friends. "This will bring you many fish. We ask only the one paper."
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Hanzo shrugs and gestures to the drain.
Perhaps someone with the ability to get the papers out of the inside would fare better. I cannot get the drain to work again.
He looks over at the two fisher-things and speaks politely.
We only seek to find a mutually beneficial relationship. We can help you, and you can help us. We seek to save the valuable manuscripts and scrolls here.
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After much pondering, the pair decide that it be best to align with the pathfinders for a much better fishing experience. The owl starts the conversation.
"OH yeah, fish are much better."
"check out the water! that's way cool man."
"Yeah Yeah, take the paper, we like fish way better man."
The owl hands over the piece of paper using his fishing rod.
"We like help, don't we?"
"OW, yes, sure we can be of mutual relationship."
"Yeah yeah, you people use fancy words."
Meanwhile more water pours in spurts behind the pair from the top of the spiral staircase.
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The pathfinders walk through the lazy swirling whirpool with ease as they walk up the stairs. The snake was caught offguard but swims through the pool woth ease. Upstairs, there is not much different in terms of setup, some shelves, some benches, except it's not that wet save the some small area near the spiral staircase. And not to forget the giant fish right above the wetted surface, floating in mid air, it is orange in colour and has four eyes, just wandering about. From under her belly, short spurts of water come out from under her belly.
A grodair is a bloated aquatic creature from the primal world of the fey. The bulbous sac on its spine is an extradimensional space that can contain thousands of gallons of water. The creature drains water (including small bits of debris and even very small creatures) from one place and releases it in another, typically creating boggy areas as it moves so it can travel more quickly than its tentacles can carry it. A grodair can rise up to 6 feet on its tentacles, measures 7 feet long, and weighs about 400 pounds.
A grodair is intelligent, but extremely absentminded and careless. Its memory is poor, and it has difficulty remembering things it was told even 5 minutes prior—though it can recall some events of the distant past with perfect (and often frustrating) clarity.
The creature only speaks Aquan, Sylvan, and Varisian