|
By Invite Only
A Pathfinder Society Scenario designed for 1st to 5th level characters (Tiers: 1–2, 4–5).
The Pathfinder Society seeks the ancient ruby ring of the salamander and it falls to a team of Pathfinders to find it. Last seen in the Tri-Towers Yard, a once elite academy for the youth of Absalom, the ruby ring is now lost in the Drownyard, all that remains of Tri-Towers after it was destroyed a decade ago in the great quake. The Pathfinders must risk the strange black ichors and salty brine to find their prize—will they risk their very souls as well?
Written by Tim and Eileen Connors
|
Thorval wakes up, runs his hands through his hair, and goes to pull on his fancy new chain shirt. He is momentarily baffled when he cannot find it in his small room, until he realizes that he is still wearing it. "Huh," he grunts, "guess I'll have to remember to take it off and shake it in some oiled sand tonight. Wonder what I was doin' last night that I forgot to take it off."
He checks his rucksack and finds that all of his gear is in order, when he hears a pounding on the door... again. He is momentarily glad to realize the pound was actually at the door, and not in his head. "Mr. Thorvalson? Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng is looking for you." cries a young voice through the door.
"Ah, that's why I woke at such an ungodly hour. Good thing I pack light. Got me weapons with me all the time!" He kisses his fists in succession... first "Lefty" (his right hand), and then "Righty" (his left). "Me pappy always said, when you carry your weapons at the end of your arms you ain't never gonna lose 'em"
With that, he shoulders his pack and opens the door to see a young boy looking quite tired and frustrated. He ruffles the boy's hair, since that's what you do with the hair of young boys, and then gets directions to where he's supposed to go. He flips the child a copper, heads out to the street.
As he arrives at the house of Venture-Captain Dreng, he sees a few other Pathfinders arriving as well. He remembers his training, both from his Pappy, who would cuff him if he ever wasn't properly polite, and from his four years at the Pathfinder Academy. "Good morning, Pathfinders! Name's Thorval Thorvalson... son of Thorval, son of Thorval, son of Thorval, son of Thorval, son of Thorval, son of Thorval, ..." This goes on for a moment until the small Tien woman glares at him and prepares to draw her blade.
"Sorry... got a long family history. Good to know where you came from, me Pappy always said. Helps you know where you're goin'. Never understood that, but me Pappy never let a lesson not sink in. I'm gonna be an Ulfen guard, soon, but for now, you can rely on my favorite two weapons, Lefty," he holds up his right fist, "and Righty." holding up his left.
"Just so you don't think I am one of those all fighty no thinky Ulfens, I am well trained in many skills. Master Farrabellus was always surprised when I could answer his questions in training... even though I was in his class for so long. I did get it all right the third time I took it!"
|
Myani's room at the Grand Lodge felt small. She supposed that most rooms here were not designed with small triceratops in mind, but where else would Ti-Ti sleep? Certainly not by herself in the stables! Myani had slept there with Ti-Ti a few times before someone said the triceratops was still small enough to go into the housing in 'the druid wing'.
Her evening downtime had been spent in the archives where her tribe's artifacts were displayed. 'Under study', they had said. No one was there studying, though. She hoped they would hurry up.
But for now it was yet another uneventful night.
"Goodnight, Ti-Ti," Myani said. She patted the top of the triceratops' head, and then wrapped herself into the covers on the bed.
|
|
It is only just after the break of dawn when the summons comes, 'Meet Venture-Captain Drandle Drenge [sic] at the Grand Lodge - immediately.'
Venture-Captain Drandle Drenge [sic], a stout and hardy Taldan with thin, graying hair and a thick, bushy mustache, unfurls a map on his butcher-block table and places a meaty finger on the parchment. "The abandoned district of Beldrin’s Bluff was once the gem of Absalom’s Precipice District—now it is but a weathered crag of broken rock at the edge of the roiling sea. When the great quake hit ten years ago, entire blocks of the Bluff sheared from the mainland. Cliffside tearooms and exclusive estates fell into the waves and carried hundreds of nobles to a watery grave. An elite academy, called the Tri-Towers Yard, remained on the mainland, but sank wholesale into the earth. Children unfortunate enough to survive the quake lay pinned under debris as sewer water slowly rose from the ground and drowned them. Nearly every student perished."
"Today, crumbled stone walls and weed-filled lots sprawl where gentlemen’s clubs once filled with pipe smoke and hobnobbing lords. The Drownyard—er, that’s what the ill-mannered call the school these days—lies behind a fence of black iron pikes, constructed by the families of the dead to discourage morbid trespassers."
"Even respected archaeological groups have been denied official access. Our own Society has itched to explore the site ever since the quake—that is, ever since we discovered that the school fell through the roof of a lost necropolis. Unfortunately, the emotional trauma attached to the school has remained fresh. But finally, after ten years of mourning, the politically-connected families of dead students have sanctioned our delve request."
With a toothy smile and a clap, Drenge says, "I’m pleased to announce that I’ve selected your team for the delve. I want you to find a way into the necropolis, document your findings with professional detail, and recover artifacts of historical significance. The Society is interested in one artifact in particular—a two-finger ring topped with a ruby salamander."
|
Surprisingly, AA Alamar ends up sleeping in, getting plenty of rest so the hangover hits him quite less in the early afternoon.
Idris though, is roused from his sleep early. A few grunts are his only communication on his way to the Lodge, the automaton arm on his hip waving slowly at the ground as he trudges across the grounds.
He arrives just in time, groggy and mostly unresponsive as he listens.
"Good. Walk through the messy underside, take some notes, bring back a ring. Easy enough."
He looks left and right at the others.
"Ready to go?"
|
|
"I would like to hear more about this ring before we go," Myani says. "Why is it important to this Society?"
She looks around the room at her teammates, assessing their combat abilities on appearance alone. All but the quivering one would be competent. Good. Though would they expect much from this Drownyard besides crumbled stone and water?
|
|
Drandle smiles a leering smile at the Mwangi, "A fine question my dear Myani, I knew I picked well. I happen to be ready for exactly such a query. You see, in ancient times, a wealthy merchant cut a ruby salamander ring from the hand of a young cat burglar named Horastain. Horastin later became a renowned information broker and art collector. The Pathfinder Society hopes to magically locate the log-dead thief and his fabled hoard by using the ring as a divination focus!"
|
|
"So, Venture-Captain, what are we supposed to do is someone is wearing the ring right now? What I mean is, you want us to talk him out of it, work out a trade, or just knock him out and take it?
"I'd ask if we should kill the scoundrel, but I don't see the point. Pappy always said, 'never kill a man, when you can punch him in the face and make him your friend.'" Thorval looks very pleased with himself, even though every one around him is giving him a look of puzzlement.
|
|
Drandle looks confused, "You are delving into a dank necropolis that has not seen the likes of people for decades. If you find somebody wearing the ring, I can only assume it's some wight or other undead beast; I'd assume you slay him lest I chalk this mission up to another inexperienced group of Pathfinders being taught a lesson in how not to delve into a dungeon!"
|
|
Myani begins to doubt her assessment of one of their team. Capable - yes. Wise enough to use his 'righty' and 'lefty' in the 'right' manner? Dubious.
She is also unsure of this man with the strange metal arm. Very odd, these Pathfinders.
Nevertheless, she answers his question. "I am trained in Druidic arts. I usually ready healing spells." She pointedly looks first at Ti-Ti, who waits patiently at her side, and then the quivering one.
Her attention returns to Dreng.
"Ah, Venture-Captain - do you have any advice for finding our way into these ruins?"
|
Echo looks at Thorval wondering if the Society only employs Ulfen of the loud and stupid variety. Shaking her head and sighing, she remembers Idris from their previous adventure. A familiar face; that is good. What is it with that nervous looking Garundi? More people to protect. Great. At least there is no ratman to annoy me on this mission.
"Venture Captain, I assume we are to catalog anything else of interest we find?"
|
|
Drandle looks excited at the questions. "Yes my dear Echo, you should!"
He pulls an iron key from his waistcoat and hands it to Myani, "I leave you with the key to the Drownyard gate. Remember, the Drownyard is a deeply personal site for so many powerful Inner Seat families. You will tread upon the graves of their children. Be sure to give the site the respect it deserves."
|
|
"Ah! Echo! I must have missed you on the boat back from Mendev. Or perhaps you took a different route?" He shrugs, looking at the others around them. "Good help, eh?"
In his usual, uncouth way, Idris goes about asking people about the Tri-Towers Yard on his way through the lodge, cause that's the nice way to talk about it.
He'll head to the quartermaster for 2 oils of Magic Weapon and 2 oils of Bless Weapon as well. After a moment of thought, he picks up an Enlarge Person potion as well.
|
|
Myani accepts the key with reverence and carefully secures it on her person.
Following Idris' lead, she too makes purchases from the quartermaster. Just an oil of bless weapon and oil of magic weapon - one of each will be sufficient.
She also asks other Pathfinders about this Drownyard, as she is not familiar with the area herself.
|
|
The group stumbles around the Grand Lodge asking "Anybody ever heard of the drownyard?" to little avail. As you gather again in the great hall before heading out to the Drownyard, Thorval surprises everybody with two tidbits.
What you know:
Before the terrible earthquake of 4698 AR, the Precipice Quarter was formerly known as Beldrin's Bluff. The Tri-Towers Yard was Absalom's premier finishing school for children of the rich and powerful. The unexpected quake destroyed the academy and the students within. Now the Tri-Towers Yard is better known as the Drownyard, a desolate ruin filled with salty brine and haunted by undead. For a decade after the tragedy, the site has been off limits to outsiders, the families of the dead erecting a fence of black iron around the area to keep out morbid intruders and even archaeological groups.
While everybody is out asking friends and colleagues about the drownyard, you are visited by a young page in the dark livery of a member of Chelish nobility. He hands you a formal invitation on delicate (but expensive) parchment.
|
|
Thorval chuckles as the team is baffled by this quandary of the Drownyard.
"You mean you didn't know that Beldrin's Bluff was destroyed by the earthquake of 4698? That was only... what... eighteen years ago. So, it is true, I was only wee lad back then, but I did pay attention to my lessons. Why, me pappy would slap each of you upside the head for not knowing about this all!"
Met with more blank stares, Thorval sighs heavily. Teaching knowledge is not his forte. Punching things in the face, now that's what he is really what he is good at.
"So, the Tri-Towers Yard, which I assume was named that because it had three towers, was the premier finishing school for Absalom's elite. Of course, were they still in business, none of us would be allowed in there. However, the quake destroyed the academy, and killed the students that were in there. Since then, it has been referred to as the Drownyard, and is a ruin filled with sea water and undead. No one's been allowed in there since... out of respect for the children, I would guess."
"Oh, and we've been invited to a banquet in honor of Lady Miranda Daciline's daughter. Guess we gotta dig out our best clothes and show up!"
He shows the group the invitation. "Someone wanna help me get some respectable clothes? I got some cash, but where I come from we don't worry too much about what we're wearing, as long as we're protected from the weather, and wearing pants, as me pappy always said."
|
|
"Yahn, you need some jewelry with that get up. Me Pappy always said, don't put on your fancy digs unless you got the jewels to back it up. You wanna borrow some of mine? I got plenty!"
Thorval pulls off a silver chain with a large turquoise amulet, and offers it to Yahn. Makes the Ulfen's outfit look far less gaudy, finally.
"So, Yahn, I gotta ask. Was your pappy tired when he named you? Sounds like when the priest asked what the boy's name gonna be, he just yawned! Har har!"
|
|
As you make your way into the Ivy District, you find yourself before the towering gothic spires of the Dacilane Estate. You are met at the front gate by a solitary guard in a small booth. He checks your invitation and allows you to pass through the gate in the imposing wrought-iron fence. You wander the path through an immense, carefully landscaped garden filled with statuary fountains representing Asmodeus and the lesser devils of the Nine Hells.
Knocking on the front door, a tall gaunt man responds by opening it wide, revealing an immense three-story foyer flanked on both sides with an enormous set of jet black granite stairs that swoop to a landing above. Just through the door on the far side of the room, you can catch sight of a library with thousands of volumes and a 20' tall painting of a beautiful pale woman with long flowing black hair set above an immense fireplace. Above, a mural depicting the rise of Asmodeus fills the ceiling.
He looks you over, sneers at Echo and states, "Deliveries are in the back."
|
|
"She is with us. We are invited," Myani says with authority. She too wears the impractical clothing needed for this engagement.
It is strange, these clothes... but my tribe has many ceremonies that would seem just as strange to them. It is proper to follow customs in unfamiliar lands.
The man does not reply immediately. Myani clears her throat and looks pointedly at Thorval.
"I said, we are invited," She uses less and less subtle hints to have Thorval present the invitation - again.
|
|
Thorval is caught looking at Echo's clothes, trying to figure out what is wrong with them, when Myani gets his attention. "Yeah, got it right here!" He starts going through his pockets, a look of panic in his eyes, when he realizes the invitation was in his left hand the whole time.
Sheepishly, he shows it to the doorman. "You gonna let us _all_ in?"
|
|
The gaunt man takes the invitation and reads it thoroughly, looking all of you up and down carefully over the course of what is easily a minute of time. He sneers, "Ah yes, Lady Dalcine said you would be arriving. I expected better dressed." He looks down at your feet, "You will have to take off your shoes upon entering. We do not need mud tracked inside."
He catches sight of Echo turning to leave, "Since you have invitations, I will even allow what I can only assume is your house slave to enter with you via the front door."
Idris has a serious case of linen crotch itch and cannot stop adjusting as you enter the main hall. You step over a Chelish rug that you easily appraise as worth a thousand gold, passing gilded furniture, and gold spun wallpaper as you enter the main dining hall.
A sad looking woman stand from the largest chair at the end of the table with place settings for all of you. She motions to you all to take your seat in front of a small plate with a single egg, and sits down again, "I am lady Dacilane, thank you for coming. The second course will be arriving soon and we will have plenty of time to talk about why I have invited you here during the bulk of the meal. For now, please indulge in your first course, the black wastes and eternity of suffering that all must endure in Avernus."
|
|
Idris sits, glancing back and forth to everyone else. He waits for a few moments, staring at the egg, before picking it up and tossing the entire thing into his mouth.
Idris coughs, chokes, and forces the egg down. His face changes colors a bit, as he grabs his own wine, then Echo's wine, holding up a finger in apology.
Nothing helping, he grabs and edge of the new clothes he got and rigorously rubs it against his tongue.
|
|
Echo bows gracefully towards Lady Dacilane. Seeing the eggs before her, Echo is properly impressed and full of glee takes a bite. Her eyes closed, it is obvious she is savoring every tiny bit of egg with small bites and gentle chewing.
And then something foul reaches Echo's tongue. It is as if Asmodeus himself broke wind in her mouth. Echo is relieved that her years of training gives her the discipline to not spit the egg out of her mouth but to swallow it down.
"Very good, Lady Dacilane."
|
|
Myani peers at the egg.
Ah, a thousand-year egg. We were offered some as a delicacy during trade agreements some time ago. Why someone would think something so foul would be a delicacy I do not know...
It would be impolite not to consume it. She steels herself.
She remembers the trick for eating it, getting only a hint of sulfur. Not nearly as bad as the first time she had one.
"Yes, these are well prepared," Myani says, agreeing with Echo. "I have heard thousand-year eggs can be difficult to make correctly."