A group of Pathfinders are called upon to the aid of an old friend of the Society.
The sun is shining brightly on Absalom today driving many to seek either find shade in taverns or relax besides fountains and imported flora of the city. You are not among them.
You have been called to the Grand Lodge of Absalom for a briefing. There are seats around the small chamber surrounding a darkwood table and various trophies gathered form across the face of Golarion hanging from the walls. A monk-shaped mask with a serpent's tongue glares out from the center of one wall. On the opposite wall hangs a strange halberd with gold rings piercing its thick blade and dragons carved along its haft.
The person who called the meeting has yet to arrive and you are alone save your fellow Pathfinders.
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A timid looking human male looks around the room as he waits impatiently. 'I really must get this contract renegotiated' ponders the man. 'The least they could is to be punctual. How'd they like it if I made THEM wait when summoned?'
Taking in those waiting with him, he smiles. Well, at least they've put me with a stout crew.
Fingering the medallion around his neck, he spews a few words. "Names Utara. Seems the one demanding our presence has forgotten how to tell time."
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An pink skinned man with mean eyes steps out to greet himself, he wears mostly white robes, and proudly defines himself as a follower of Sarenrae with a holy symbol around his neck, a white scarf, and a scimitar hanging from his belt. His quiver holds an assortment of arrows.
"Greetings, I am Kuriq, a knight of the dawnflower. It would indeed seem so." He replies to Utara. He keeps himself calm and composed, but his eyes tell that his is judging everyone with every move they make.
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A nimble-footed Keleshite man enters the room, his dark beard neatly trimmed, his eyes golden. He, too, wears a silver holy symbol of Sarenrae proudly.
"Sun's blessings, brother! It is fortuitous indeed that we find ourselves walking together. Sarenrae's light will surely guide our hands to victory this day!".
Mandhur turns to Utara and offers a short, respectful bow.
"I am Mandhur, humble servant of Sarenrae, and very pleased to meet you.”
Mandhour's well-kept scimitar hangs easily beside a small buckler. Fine chain links peek out from his colourful desert wear.
"Tell me, does anyone have any fine tales to spin while we wait?"
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With a THUD, the door swings wide as a large, bulky shadow fills the frame. Stepping forward with a resounding CLANG, a set of steel plate enveloped in scarlet robes marches forward, and stands stoically near the wall. On his hip hangs a large mace, the flanges forming a star with barbed edges at the tip. Strapped to his arm is a large steel shield with a crimson inlay of an inverted star.
"My name is Thokzazt. The Hellknight Order of the Gate sent me to aid in your mission. I will ensure that order is maintained."
A moment later, he approaches the timid human, Towering over Utara.
"I recognize a brother in the Prince of Law's command! May his wishes bring justice and law."
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A Taldan man comes walking into the room, wearing full ceremonial armor. Despite it's flashiness in nature, it does appear to be fully functional. A finely crafted Aldori Dueling sword hangs by his side and he carries himself with an air of nobility. Particularly the type that indicates a man who hasn't had to work a day in his life and is used to getting things his way without much of a struggle.
"Hmm, yes... where is our contact? It is considered poor manners to keep one's company waiting. Where are the servants? A brandy would do wonders for my constitution."
He looks around, a bit annoyed, then continues.
"Well, it seems I am forced to announce myself here. Hmm. Well I am Baron... er. I am Marcus Vulpares Fantailler. Son of Marcus Vultulus Fantailler."
He stops at that, seemingly believing that a few names being dropped does enough to explain his reason for being here.
There is an escalation of footfalls from the hallway and through the door marches a huge man wearing creaking leathers. The man has a physique that would put most half-orcs to shame and he doesn't pause as he looks at each of you in turn, as if he were appraising a handful of gemstones freshly pulled from the earth. He gives a cut nod to you all. Some of you recognize him as Adril Hestram a venture-captain of the Pathfinder Society.
"Welcome, friends. We have a serious problem. Skelg the Ripper came to Absalom one month ago. Like many Ulfen warriors he joined the Longaxes, the Taldan Emperor’s personal guard whose duty it is to protect the embassy and Taldan visitors. Skelg also dropped a hefty sum of gold to purchase a manor in the Ivy district, something a Longaxe isn’t paid well enough to do. It is widely assumed that he brought most of his wealth with him from the north."
"A rumor I know to be true."
"It seems that Skelg also brought a curse with him. In his letter to me, he speaks of lying abed in this miserable summer dying from the cold. Neither physician nor priest has been able to cure his ailment, and there are no signs of disease or poison. Of course, for such a man, there is no greater dishonor than to die in bed instead of in battle."
"The Pathfinder Society would normally monitor these events and let the authorities deal with them. However, there are three factors that have drawn our interest."
"First, Skelg is himself a member of our Society and has asked for our help. Second, he is a personal friend of mine, and finding a sparring partner as worthy as Skelg to replace him would be a trying task. Lastly, he claims that artifacts of great power are involved, and that we may be able to recover them for the vaults of the Grand Lodge."
"We view this situation as having enough importance to assign you to investigate it. Go to the home of Skelg the Ripper, learn what you can, and do your best to help him. If you find an item that is somehow connected to the curse, either retrieve it or glean as much information as you can about it."
He seems in a particularly poor mood and seems saddled with the anxiety of a man at the beginning of a long workday.
"I trust there are no questions?"
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Marcus give a sleight nod towards Adril as he enters the room. "Hrmph... the Longaxes are paid sufficiently for the work that they perform. I don't see why one would be inclined to take up residence so far above his station. Unless his work up in the north is such that would entitle him to such... hrmm... advancement or what have you."
He looks a bit downtrodden. "It is certainly too bad that a Longaxe would be subjected to such a mundane ending to their career... but I thought that I was here for adventure? Not convalescent care."
As he pouts a bit, a couple tufts of fur show up at his cheeks for a moment, then vanish as quickly as they came. He looks about and then hangs his head a bit.
"Well, I suppose I should TRY to be patient. With a reputation like yours Adril, excitement is sure to abound in anything you do."
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Kuriq looks pleasantly surprise to find a follower of the dawnflower present in this endeavour, and makes it known to him.
Turning to the Venture Captain and Marcus, in joins in the conversation "This may not be the core work of pathfinders, but I believe this is a calling, it can't be coincidence that the church of Sarenrae has sent two of their followers to this mission. The sick must be tended to."
Kuriq ponders for a moment and ask "What do we know of any artifacts that could cause this damage? Or any enemies he has?"
Adril brings a callous glare down upon Marcus, "I don't feel like I need to tell you that I don't really care if you rather have some glamorous adventure. If you would like though, I certainly could find something that will bring an impressive ending to your own career."
He gives a heavy sigh as he responds to Kuriq's questions. "If I knew, I would have said." He does stop a for a moment to try to recall any outstanding details at the edge of his mind. "There are plenty of artifacts that could carry this sort of curse. The witches of Irrisen have powerful and vengeful magic at their disposal. I don't doubt they have any lack for cursed items. I would have expected the bulk of Skelg's enemies come from the far north and I have no reports of any in particular."
"In either case I recommend you should ask him as all I can offer is speculation better reserved for the gossip-mongers among the taverns."
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Marcus wrinkles his nose and adopts the dignified posture of a child who has been informed that they may not have cookies for dinner. Vulpine facial features are clearly apparent on it, but they fade away as soon as Adril expounds on the source of the malady. "Artifacts and curses of vengeful Irrisen witches? Now THAT sounds like an adventure!"
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With a slight nod to Thokzazt's introduction, he smiles. "May that be the case."
Listening to the half-orc blabber on about playing nurse, he lets out a heavy sigh. 'This was not the purpose of my signing on to the Society. Though a cursed item acquired for the archives does have a nice ring to it.'
"So, you know he's dieing and it may be a useful artifact causing his ailment. However, you've no clue who might wish him harm or what kind of artifact it could be. Can you tell us how long he's been suffering from his condition? Any specific persons to watch out for in the course of the mission?"
Pausing a moment to consider the situation, he adds "Though I do respect the need for honor. If we're unable to heal him, would you like us to give him an honorable death?"
Looking sidelong at Kuriq he softly scoffs "The Dawnflower...right"
While some claim that Adril has some orc-blood in him to explain his large stature he has the full appearance of a human.
Adril scoffs at Marcus's reaction and focuses on the other questions the party offer him.
"All I know was from a brief note from him all of which I passed onto you already. I'm not sure how long he has been ill, I last met with him briefly when he was getting settled here and I didn't see any ailment on him then. I certainly don't know anyone of interest in his life now either."
"As for honorable death, you are asking the wrong man, I don't find honor in death, but if you can't offer him any other answer and he asks for it, you certainly can be the charitable sorts to give him his last wish."
"However, I suggest you think real hard before you start throwing out such mercies because there are few in the area I can fight with on equal footing, " as he speaks Adril steps forward to Utara to emphasize his broad body and muscles compared to most in the room. "and if you are going to be removing him from this world, you lot will be leaving a space that none of you can fill."
"As great as it would be to watch you to like this all day, I have business to get to and I encourage you all to work as well. "
Although you could still catch him with additional questions he seems intent on proceeding to other affairs leaving you all to your goal of getting to Skelg.
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Mandhur bows low. "My captain, thank you for entrusting us with a task so close to your heart, we shall not fail you. Come, friends! Let us away to poor Skelg, he shall not suffer a moment longer."
Before leaving the lodge Mandhur asks around to see if anyone has heard where Skelg is currently staying.
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Thokzazt seems almost unresponsive as Hestram babbles about this Ulfen man's approaching death. The instant that a 'Curse' is mentioned, he seems to stir.
"I don't believe curses are an acceptable practice in Absalom, unless something grave happened. If he made a bargain for this curse, may only the Fires of Hell warm his heart."
"Let us determine the measure of this situation, and restore order."
Speaking with people you find that he lives in Greydog Manor within the Ivy District, but they weren't not able to recall the street the manor rested on.
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Marcus disappears for a bit, then comes back, pack slightly more of gear, and mind slightly more full of facts.
"Mhmm, I saw fit to procure a small cache of recommended alchemical solutions. I've been told that new pathfinders should never be caught with out them. Anyhow, I've tracked down this... Grey Dog Manor."
He cocks his head quizzically as he mulls over the name. "Who would chose to name their abode after a cur? Why not a more intelligent creature? Such as a fox? The Fiery Fox Manor. That would be a much better name for a residence."
He smiles to himself, seemingly lost in throught.
"Anyhow, this way! It is on a street with a view over a park. I've been informed that it is a massive stone building with a reasonable defensive wall."
The directions lead down Parkview Street which, true to its name and the description Marcus found, runs the entire length of the Ivy District park.
Greydog Manor is easy to find as it stands like a tomb in a flower garden. Six-foot-high walls surround the massive, stone building and an immense iron gate flanked by granite statues of hunting dogs stands open, offering access to the interior.
Looking along those walking the street, it is clear the locals give the estate a wide berth. The stone walls seem to give a slight chill to the air, which is not entirely unpleasant on such a hot day.
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Kuriq walks a few paces behind the party most of the time, often lost in contemplation, other times judging the actions of those around him. At the manor as Marcus walks past it, he takes a good look, pauses and shouts to the party.
"Marcus! I believe this may be the building we seek."
Immediately he turns into the manor and takes the lead to walk in, knocking at the doors waiting for a response.
Walking though the gates your path to the front door is blocked by a pair of Ulfen warriors. Each wears a chain shirt and a surcoat bearing heraldry instantly recognizable as originating from Taldor. In their hands they carry a long axes of traditional imperial guard design. Neither seem incline to allow your passage.
They watch you sternly as you move into the courtyard and one of them speaks in an rough, accented voice, "If you wish to visit then leave. Skelg is ill and wants no visitors."
While their deamouner is cold, the courtyard is comfortable. Cool and shady compared to the sun-beaten street outside. There are dead leaves scatted among the flagstones and granite steps though out the courtyard.
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Marcus bursts out laughing. "Bahahaha! You've got your surcoats on backwards!"
He claps twice and giggles a bit. "Snap snap! Redress yourself properly! If you wish to play guard you should wear your attire appropriately as I have!"
He holds his arms outward, showing his ceremonial Taldan armor. "Why it surprises me that you aren't gripping your axes by the blade! Now what would Skelg say if he saw you sorry lot here..."
Both take a moment to try to appraise their clothing in response to Marcus's outburst before returning an even icier glare at the fop and tightening their grip on their weapons.
They take a moment to regain some manner of composure before their minds return to them to properly address the request.
"No need. Skelg has decided he rather die in peace."
The other lags a second behind as his death glare fails to harm Marcus, but nods his head in agreement with his partner's statement. Although your words do have some effect on him.
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Marcus looks exasperated and repeats in a squeaky whiney voice "Skelg has decided..."
He cuts off abruptly and rolls his eyes. "Oh for Shelyn's sake... your attire is abominable, your gait is unbecoming of a Taldan guard... you're not fooling anyone! If I were to hazard a guess Skelg has made no such decision. You've decided that Skelg should die in peace SIMPLY because you know full well that WE can possibly do something to delay his soul's judgement."
He thinks for a moment and adds. "And his estate liquidation."
He looks at their hands as they tighten their grip. "Now there is simply no need for that. Yet. We can still resolve this like civilized folk. We can negotiate your surrender or agree to terms of a duel if that is what you prefer. I am fully trained in the art of fisticuffs, or combat with the Aldori dueling blade. Have you such blade or do you prefer fists? Duel to first blood is a family tradition."
He raises his fists and thrusts his chest out, throwing a few punches at the air.
"Of course a negotiated passage would certainly be easier for all of us. We can open with exchange of livestock perhaps?"
One of the pair clearly is looking to accept Marcus's challenge as responds with a growl. "You'll have this axe!"
The other moves to stop him and speaks to him quietly in a few brisk words of a northern tongue. Those combined seem to settle the guard's rage for the moment although his glare shows his issues with Marcus have not vanished while his companion speaks.
"If you need to hear it yourselves then we will take you to his room." He motions to the other guard to lock the gate behind as he stands by the front door to allow entry.
The other guard is less willing to remove his stare but moves to the gate and looks to secure it from a key on his person.
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Watching the banter between his companions and guards, a bored expression on his face. Utara begins tapping his foot, impatient.
"We've been summoned here. Unfortunately for you lot, we'll be checking in on him one way or the other. Those were our orders. If it is in fact death he seeks, then we must hear it from his mouth."
Following Thokzazt into the abode, he looks around, taking in the sites.
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Marus goes bug-eyed at Thokzazt. "You can't seriously believe... I mean... Have you ever put your pants on backwards before work? These are no trained soldiers! They are fr-"
He stops, looks at Thokzazt, looks back at Utara, and his eyes light up. "Ahhh... I get it!"
He taps his finger twice to the side of his nose, and then says loudly while looking about.
"They are clearly novices! In training! Yes."
He mutters softly to Thoksazt. "Good thinking. We shant let know we're on to them."
Still in the guard at the door seems satisfied with the situation until Marcus continues talking. The guard starting to lock the gate drops all pretense of and snaps at the insult yelling at the alleged aristocrat. "I will cut out your tongue!"
The other holds his hand up to stop this, "Wait! You haven't closed the gate yet!" He quickly sees the futility here and instead readies his weapon. "I guess we will just need to kill you all quickly." He rushes forward pushing past the party to reach Marcus and aid his comrade in beating the Pathfinder into the gravel.
He rushes into an axe swing that barely connects with the off balance Marcus and the Ulfen warrior laughs as Taldan fop is pushed back.
Ulfen Blue
Kuriq
Ulfen Red
Marcus
Utara Yuu
Thokzazt
Mandhur
The arrow strikes the guard in his arm and he laughs as he barely holds his footing. "Skelg will die, but not before you weaklings!"
The other has no banter he runs into the dead foliage and swings at Marcus growling as he wildly attempts to connect with his axe.
While Marcus was caught off guard by the warrior behind him, Marcus is able to easily evade the raging warrior's clumsy blows.
Ulfen Blue (7 Damage)
Kuriq
Ulfen Red
Marcus (7 damage)
Utara Yuu
Thokzazt
Mandhur
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Utara's features seem to start melting away as red and white fur sprouts up all over his body. His mouth elongating into a fox's snout with sharp pointed teeth. A sly smile crosses his face. Snarling "Ah, now this will be fun."
Sliding towards the Ulfen, he bites the mans shoulder. Licking his lips, he remarks "Taste like chicken!"
He holds a hand to his neck briefly as swings his axe at the fox, but legs buckler and he collapses to the ground, his breath faltering as he bleeds on the ground. The other guard doesn't show fear, but digs in to be able to take on the entire group of Pathfinders.
Round 1:
Marcus (7 damage)
Utara Yuu
Thokzazt
Mandhur
Round 2:
Ulfen Blue (13 Damage, unconscious, bleeding)
Kuriq
Ulfen Red
Marcus bites into the warrior and he struggles as he pushes the fox back and is only barely able to block Mandhur's attack with haft of his weapon.
He curses the party as he pushes back against the assult. "Wretched fey! All of you!"
Round 1:
Thokzazt
Mandhur
Round 2:
Ulfen Blue (13 damage, unconscious, bleeding)
Kuriq
Ulfen Red (7 damage)
Marcus (7 damage)
Utara Yuu
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After watching one of the threats fall, Kuriq repositions himself to a better position to attack the remaining threat, "Those who speak by the sword, shall face a swift judgement!" He says in a surprisingly aggressive manner for one who claims to worship Sarenrae. But he lets his fiery temper best him as his arrow misses it's mark.
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Turning promptly on his heel, Thokzazt bellows at the Ulfen men.
"You wish to slay a member of the society in their sleep?"
Charging toward the Powerfully built man, while throwing his shield to the ground, he swings his mace around with both hands, crunching it into the northerners skull.
"No mercy."
He laughs as you yell at him. He starts to give a response as the mace strikes into head. He collapses to the ground and within mere moments his breathing has stopped and remains still in the shade of the courtyard.
The Ulfen warrior that was struck by Kuriq and Utara Yuu has survived the encounter. He is easy enough to stabilize for questioning.
The front door of the mansion is locked, but the key on the guard is able to unlock it. No one greets you or bars entry into the building. Most of the building is dark with some flickering light coming through the frame of a door on the upper floor.
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As Thokzazt's strike lands Marcus winces. Panting with fatigue, he pulls a small kerchief from his pocket and wipes his face of before shifting back to human form. He carefully scrubs off the blemishes on his armor. "Nothing a spot of mending won't buff out. Perchance would any of you be familiar with that cantrip?"
Looking about he shrugs. "Hrmm... even so time is of the essence I presume. If thugs want this man dead then he surely must be a great Taldan hero. As they say, you do not make friends without making enemies. I do like Kuriq's plan... Perhaps we can make an arrangement with the other one to learn a bit more of what he knows."
It is easy enough to wake the man with any amount of healing attention, when he wakes he shows frustration, but refuses to speak, as though you have defeated him, but you still have but the barest control over him.
It might be an option to convince him to talk, either by intimidation, diplomacy, or deceit.