Lady Heidmarch gives Barkot a nod of approval. "Derro may be behind the disappearances? That is interesting information. I shall contact my informants and get some of them to watch Underbridge for these Derro.
The mayor will certainly be pleased if the situation were to be resolved, and I will always support activities that put the Society in a good light here in Magnimar. By all means, keep investigating, but you have your primary mission."
Gazing with interest at Reillana, she smiles. "The next Shard is in The Crow as well? How fortuitous that we have two people present who have intimate knowledge of the inside of the Crow.
Before we call either of them in, we should complete any discussion of the Shard. Do you have any questions for me?"
"I will be doing more research on the shards, and am hoping to know more about them in the near future.
In the meantime, the danger of a curse does exist. Forewarned is forearmed. Knowing what to expect, perhaps you can take precautions to avoid the curse.
Perhaps you can find a way to carry it without touching it? That works for some cursed items, but it would require experimentation to see if it would work with something as powerful as these Shards.
Even if you aren't able to avoid it, you will know to be on alert for changes in behavior, and can be sure to return here to the Manor as quickly as possible before the effects get very strong. I should be able to help determine the correct Ioun Stone to identify whichever Shard you find."
"Carry the next dingus wit'out touchin' it? Sounds like we need some kinda magic fer dat. But my li'l spirit rat can't carry nuttin. An' I c'n scare da pants offa people, or give 'em a bit a' help or healin', but dat's about it. "
The book Barkot was able to cross reference with mentioned the Derro's battle tactics, and mentioned that they would often fight in the manner of urban thieves, attacking from hiding and dealing extra damage through distracting their enemies.
Reillana listens patiently as the Venture Captain reveals more and more information about the Shattered Star, but one thing stuck out to the masked elf in particular:
Sheila pauses to let the lesson sink in, before continuing. "Dangers have been rising in Varisia of late, and their frequency seems to be increasing. We need a powerful defense to protect us from the dangers that are surely coming."
So they seek a weapon. Of course they do.
"Lady Heidemarch, the Society intends to utilize this device in the defense of Magnimar? What powers does the united Star possess that would make that possible? What sort of weapon are we dealing with?"
"What does it do? I don't know precisely. The only person who ever used the combined Sihedron was killed 11 millenia ago.
What we know is that the Runelords couldn't attack until the Sihedron had been sundered. It was able to protect Xin from the combined efforts of seven powerful evil people who were intimately familiar with Xin's magical abilities.
Should we wait until another Runelord awakens and finds the shards for themselves? Perhaps it is a weapon. Perhaps it is a shield. We can't know until we reassemble it.
It will be better in our hands than in someone else's"
Celia chews on an apple sitting cross-legged on a comfy couch listening to the others talk about artifacts, Runelords, and other ancient mysteries. She grins as she takes another noisy bite happily, [i] I'm finally in it...I'm finally a Pathfinder agent do something important...just like mee ba always said I would![/b] Celia is relaxed and grinning watching in quiet awe as her fellow Pathfinders discuss the next move that might change Golarion.
Seeing that questions about the Shard have trailed off and having nothing else of importance to add, Lady Heidmarch closes the book containing the picture of the Sihedron.
"Do you have any additional questions for Natalya in order to prepare for entering the Crow?"
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Barkot nods. "Yeah, I got some questions fer Lady Wha... guess I shouldn't call 'er dat no more, huh? OK, I got some questions fer Natalya."
Once Natalya rejoins the group, Barkot eyes her suspiciously. "So how many Tower Gals are gonna be at Da Crow? How're we supposed ta get in? Any traps? Guards? An' I figger ya wasn't da only spellslinger dey got, were ya?"
Rubbing her eyes and her temples, Natalya slumps in the chair. Her voice has lost any of its previous emotion, and she seems quite despondent.
"How many? A dozen or so. I doubt they've been doing any recruiting since I left."
She pauses for a second, trying to remember what Barkot asked next.
"The entrance I found was a secret door in the boat dock that everyone thought was the only accessible portion of the piling. There was no way to open it from the outside, so we broke it down. We also found secret doors leading to the chambers way above the boat dock.
I suppose you could try climbing up to those entrances, though the secret doors are probably closed, and the 200ft climb is pretty difficult without the ropes lowered."
She slumps some more, sighing heavily, as her voice lowers. "Traps? Maybe a couple of simple alarms. We were good at disarming traps, not so much setting them. Ayala preferred to have her rats be sniff out intuders most times.
Guards? Those high chambers would usually have sentries in them. Having only one approach is what makes the tower so defensible. Other than that it should be just be the girls and the rats.
Casters? I was the only one. It was the primary reason I thought I should have risen higher." Here, she sneers again, and anger passes over her eyes. Her voice takes on a mocking tone. "What good are casters anyway, Natalya? One bite takes them out of the fight."
She makes a rude gesture toward the wall in the rough direction of Underbridge. "No, she had her favorites, and they weren't casters." Trailing off, she continues, "What sane caster would accept her infection anyways?"
Reillana listens quietly but intently, the beginnings of a plan already forming in her mind, until Natalya mentions rats and infection. Her eyes snap back to the ex-thief. "Are you implying that the leader of the Tower Girls is a were-rat?"
Natalya looks up in confusion while squinting in pain. "I mentioned Ayala was a wererat, didn't I? I'm sure I must have mentioned it. She's been careful about spreading it, but has given the 'gift' to a couple of her favorites." She shudders.
Lady Heidmarch shakes her head and pats her on the back. "I'm sure you meant to mention it, dear. Perhaps it is time to go lay down again?"
Addressing the party again, Lady Heidmarch contributes, "If you have to deal with lycanthropes, I would suggest having silver weapons available. Lycanthropes resists wounds from normal weapons, but silver seems to harm them.
Now, are there any last questions? We should start wrapping this up, as I have some other plans for you this morning."
"Were-rats? Damn! Rats're bad enough!"
Reillana listens quietly but intently, the beginnings of a plan already forming in her mind, until Natalya mentions rats and infection. Her eyes snap back to the ex-thief. "Are you implying that the leader of the Tower Girls is a were-rat?"
Mithral! We found a Mithral sword, they say it’s elvish silver... will it harm wererats? Celia looks hopefully to Lady Heidmarch and uneasily to Natalya for an answer.
Lady Heidmarch smiles in amusement. The expression might seem condescending if not for the sparkle in her eyes.
"Yes, my young Path-awan, Mithril is generally considered to be better than silver. It will affect creatures who have silver weaknesses while still retaining the hardness of steel."
Lady Heidmarch stands and retrieves pen and paper from a desk. She quickly writes a note, blots it, and adds an impression of her seal.
Handing the paper to the party, she says, "Here, go to Dockway and approach Paraleus, the clerk at the Harbormaster's office. Give him this letter and he will arrange for a ship's boat large enough for the five of you.
Ulyi, I think you might want to sit the voyage out. Traveling by boat is often difficult for quadrupeds. I am sure Jacobadiah can summon you again once they arrive at The Crow.
The boat will be a rental, but it should be available for you whenever you need it. At least for a few day's time. If your explorations take longer than that, just come talk to me and we will extend that."
Tapping the table to draw your attention, she continues. "Now, I want you to take your Chronicling seriously. As you explore The Crow, I want you to make a reasonable map of the interior. I don't need a cartographer's work, but something that other agents could possibly use in the future.
Return with such a map, and I will award each of you with a Wayfinder."
Walking to the door, she motions all of you to follow, leading you out toward the main receiving room.
In this room, you are surprised to see a dozen or so gathered Pathfinders.
Stepping up on a dais, Lady Heidmarch raises her voice to address the room. "My apologies on the delay, my friends. Hopefully the refreshments have been a sufficient diversion."
Looking around, you can see that most of the people have a glass of punch or wine. Some are snacking on simple appetizers while conversing amongst themselves.
A general murmur of contentment comes from the assembled people, then fades as Lady Heidmarch continues. "I called you all here today for a joyous occaision. Before you stand our newest Pathfinders!"
Sheila motions to you and light applause follows. "These stalwart adventurers tracked down and rescued an Agent who had fallen victim to a cursed item. They successfully rescued the Agent and retrieved the item for future study.
Their efforts were exemplary, and exceeded my expectations. As acknowledgement, I have awarded them field promotions to full Pathfinder status."
Louder applause follows this proclamation. She then quickly introduces each of you with some kind words about your past, and indicates that you will soon be leaving to explore a newly discovered entrance to one of the Irespan pilings.
With the introductions completed, she steps from the dais and begins mingling with a few of the gathered guests. Other guests come up to congratulate each of you personally, with general platitudes and small talk.
At one point, you are greeted by Sir Canayven Heidmarch himself. He is quite excited, rushing past the small talk. "So, I hear from Sheila that you will be exploring The Crow. How fascinating! I am not sure if you know this, but Sheila and I have made quite a study of Thassilon. It is the primary reason we set up this Lodge in the first place.
Getting a chance to explore a brand new structure! I wish I could join you myself to see the wonders first hand! Alas, I have other commitments." He frowns slightly. "The pitfalls of running a Society, you know.
In my stead, I would ask that you keep an eye out for any artwork that includes historical references. Take detailed notes -- illustrations would be appreciated as well. Return to me and I will reward you for each piece of artwork you find."
Canayven continues talking with you for a few more moments before excusing himself and leaving for his offices.
Celia is surprised and delighted at her promotion; however something nags at her something ... something not yet revealed, she thanks Sheila Heidmarch and a few other pathfinders that come to congratulate her. However, Celia doesn’t feel accomplished and her stomach is bothering her so she excuses herself from the engagement early and seeks solice in her room praying to Shelyn for answers. When no concrete answers come she visits her mother walking all the way across town despite it being late afternoon.
Her mother is surprised and a bit concerned and Celia suddenly showing up...
Mom Mom stop fussing I’m alright! Just tired that’s all... Celia says exasperated as her mother ladles some broth into a mug and hands it to the gladiator. Why am I home early ummm...? Celia stalls for time thinking about lying to her mother. because your a coward and you’re afraid you can’t cut it! Just tell her... hells everybody knows it anyway! Who knows why the Pathfinders took pity on you?! Some project girl from the slums they’re going to lift out of degradation.. Celia snaps out of her self pity long enough to say, Mom tell me more about Shelyn... Her back turned to her daughter a single tear begins to run down Celia’s mother’s cheek.
"Squint," Reillana says patiently when the halfling asks. "We were wading through literal s%~~ in that fight with Natalya, and I at least had open wounds. I can't think of a better situation to catch something nasty. Maybe I'm being overly cautious, but I wasn't feeling well at the promotion party and I'm willing to pay for peace of mind as well."
She inclines her head in the direction she was walking. "Would you like to come along? Ulyi is welcome too."
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Collecting her hard won gold, Reillana heads off to the Society's healers.
She is greeted by a matronly woman with a tightly pulled back bun, and a large pair of glasses. Listening to Reillana's request, she Tsks.
"Rolling around in filth? Couldn't you find some way to stay above it? I'd think you sainted field agents would bring some rope and a grappling hook with you once in a while. How hard is that?
Well? What are you waiting for, step behind the curtain and disrobe. Healing isn't just wiggling your fingers and a few nice words. I need to know where to direct the flows. It would certainly be easier if I knew what we were dealing with."
Ignoring Reillana's protests, the woman shepherds her behind the privacy curtain and starts examining her. She looks in her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. She makes her do jumping jacks and run in place, then starts prodding at her throat and underarms.
"Yes, yes, it seems the bad humors have collected in your glands. A good leeching is probably best, but you wanted a spell. Typical."
Gathering her holy symbol, the woman wiggles her fingers and says a few nice words.
Reillana doesn't actually feel anything, but assumes the spell has been cast.
Celia's mother is bustling about early in the morning, getting ready for work, and making sure that the children have food prepared for the day.
Celia sits at the table with a small bowl of porridge, idly pushing the food around, but not really eating.
Noticing her discomfort, Celia's mother stops for a moment and comes over to feel her forehead. "Dear one, are you feeling well? You've hardly touched your breakfast."
She stands with her head pressed to Celia's head for a few moments, then frowns. "Oh, I think you might be getting a fever. What have those Pathfinder people been having you do?"
Distracted, and not really listening to Celia's protestations, she continues while completing her tasks. "I always knew this would end poorly. Now, you'll have to stay home and rest up until you feel better and they won't need you anymore.
Well, I suppose it's for the best. Once you are better, I am sure that Widower Barlowe will still be interested in an arrangement. Why, he'd be foolish not to." She turns a nervous, yet supportive smile toward Celia, then tries once again to convince Celia to change her mind.
"It won't be so bad, you'll see. He is a good man, and Love is the Greatest of All Things, as you well know. It will find a way..."
Deep down, she knows that Celia's mind is made up. As she heads out the door, she pauses one last time, looking deep into Celia's eyes. Her eyes shimmer with tears being held back. "Whatever you do, dear, please just stay safe."
Celia cleans her bowl, and goes to get her armor and weapons. She finds them neatly set out in a corner of the room. Sitting on top is a paper flower, made from bits of perfumed paper ... discarded stationary from whatever house her mother cleaned yesterday.
Reillana, now cleaned up and wearing a sundress with just a dab of perfume, slides into the chair opposite one of Lady Heidemarch's aides during their lunch break.
"My apologies for bothering you on your break, I know you're busy, but I'm new in town and don't want to bungle my initial interactions with the local elite," she starts preambles with a self-deprecating smile. "I'm looking for someplace a bit upscale, like a tailor's with a dash of magic. Someplace that sells useful but minor magics as well--enchanted messenger birds, scrolls, the like. Could you point me in the right direction please?"
Barkot spends their free time research the history of Magnimar and its monuments, singing off-key in the bath, trying to figure out how to wear chainmail comfortably, and - when he thinks nobody is watching - jumping off the balcony that overlooks the Manor's grand entry hall and floating gently to the ground.
The Heidmarch servants who attempt to tidy the small room he has been given keep finding bits of food squirreled away in the pockets of the clothes he leaves strewn all over, as though he was grabbing extra food at meals and saving it for later.
"Ah, Agent Myerishil. Lovely to see you here.
Magical items? I think the quartermaster usually stocks those, but if he doesn't have what you need, there are certainly places around.
I would honestly reccomend not shopping her in the Summit. You would probably find what you want, but the prices will likely be higher. You know these nobles... if something costs more, it must be better.
I know of a couple of places down in Lowcleft. Capable Cloaks and Curiositties would likely the best selection of your more unusual magic.
For scrolls and potions, I think there is place on the next block, but I've always seen most people buy from the quartermaster."
The aide give directions that surprisingly lead to the right street in Lowcleft. Finding the establishment still takes a bit of time, but it does look like a reputable establishment with a nice selection.
Stepping inside, Reillana is greeted by a colorfully dresses dwarf with an outrageous handlebar moustache. In a surprisingly high-pitched voice, he greets her.
"Welcome to Capable Cloaks and Curiositties! Felix Rainwater at your service. What need can I help you to solve today?"
Celia returns to the lodge a day or two latter after visiting with her family. With a recommendation from the old quarter master at her former work venue of the Magnimar arena...Celia visit's a highly recommended local bow smith. Stretching her budget to the limit and unable to talk the vendor down a copper...Celia is forced to sell a couple of her existing items..Well I really didn't need 2 bows anyway even if it was me first bow bought with me own money earned...the gladius was a tool of the arena anyway Celia reasoned, besides my new off-hand blade holds an edge better and if far better balanced!
Surprisingly the one object she regretted surrendering the most was, the tanglefoot bag, she had just acquired. May come to regret getting rid of that! But what can I do?! He's one of the best in town at his craft...no need for him to come down even a pence on his price!
Once she had collected the necessary funds for the full amount of the bow she desired, Celia returned to the Bower and picked a fine bow right off the rack. When she first pulled it she found the weight tension on the pull a bit too much for liking...the crafstman assured her that it would only take an evenings work to loosen the tension on the string to adjust for her strength.
Honestly, Miss...I'm surprised you were able to pull the string on this one... the craftsman said as he lifted the bow Celia was about to purchase. ....pull the string on this one all the way to your ear! This Bow here was made on consignment for Mad Mart himself! Unfortunately, that hulking brute had a habit of getting into fights at pubs down by the docks... The Bower lets out a soft whistle.. Well even an overly muscled sod like himself wasn't no match for three...and two with bared blades! The Bower gestures with his hands in a popular gesture to those supplicating to Pharasma for the departed sake. *Tsk* It's because of him that I always insist on 50% up front when crafting a new bow...you never now when The Lady of Graves will come calling! Putting the bow back down the bower says, I'll have it adjusted for you by tomorrow if you got the full price...did you manage to raise the difference?
As Celia sits at the lodge waiting for her companions to finish up their research and outfitting she sips some heated honey water with a bit of lemon. My stomach' has been doing cartwheels these last few days..even with mother's cooking...hmm probably just a little ailment nothing to worry on... Celia lightly touches her new bow lying on top of the wooden bench next to her. You were expensive...if you serve me well I'll name you. Celia thinks, with mild mirth.
Celia sees the strange creature of Squint's, wander out of the canteen, with a whole smoked fish in it's mouth; amused she waves at it, but it passes quickly by her...either not having seen her or ignoring her. I really do hope all is O.K. between myself and squint. I'd not want to jeopardize our mission over bad blood. Celia looks down at the swords strapped to her hips and again to the bow lying across the table. What I really hope is I can prove myself a worthy , and brave companion...and still see home again someday.
After drinking her beverage Celia heads to the temple district. There she ask to see the assistant to the high priest. After, a long wait she's admitted an audience. A few hours later Celia leaves the temple a smile on her face and a bit more determined walk. It was good I spoke so candidly with the Revered Sister...I had no idea The Eternal Maiden, had so many different ways to serve her! Celia stomach' lurches a bit as she treks back to the Pathfinder Lodge. Hmmm forgot to ask the priest and priestesses to pray over my up-set stomach....oh well next time!
Having passed by it several times in the past couple of days while heading between the Manor and Arvensoar, Paeral is drawn to an entry in a Gazette of the Naos District detailing the two monuments in Founder's Park.
Through his research he learns about the magical fountain of flame known as Founder's Flame which was a gift to the city. Supposedly, spellcasters who sit and watch the flames sometimes find a boost to their effectiveness with fire based incantations.
He also reads about the 200 foot tall statues that flank the gate into the city. Spellcasters who meditate here find it easier to concentrate.
Having passed by it several times in the past couple of days while heading between the Manor and Arvensoar, Paeral is drawn to an entry in a Gazette of the Naos District detailing the two monuments in Founder's Park.
Through his research he learns about the magical fountain of flame known as Founder's Flame which was a gift to the city. Supposedly, spellcasters who sit and watch the flames sometimes find a boost to their effectiveness with fire based incantations.
He also reads about the 200 foot tall statues that flank the gate into the city. Spellcasters who meditate here find it easier to concentrate.
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Squint groans again, his queasy stomach aggravated by anxiety over his schemes. He slowly rides Ulyi back to the Manor.
"I feel like a new boy on a stormy day on the sea," Squint complains to Ulyi. He continues before the eidolon can retort with an insult. "I know you think my plan is stupid or worse, patronising, but if we're going to make it as a time, I've got to set things right. You at least can agree with me that I am not best with my words."
The eidolon remains silent at Squint's comment.
"Silence is assent, then. This could be a very good thing. And I'm sure the quartermaster will have what I want."
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Squint (sans Ulyi) enters the parlour at Heidmarch Manor, finding several of his band of colleagues lounging about. Celia sips on a mug of something warm, the smell of which twists Squint's stomach another turn. The halfling pauses, considering the scene, his stomach, and the medium-sized mithral chain shirt in his small hands.
"Um, Celia?" Squint asks. "I'm not very good with words, but I know when I use them offensively. I called you a coward out there. I'm sorry."
He approaches Celia at her chair, the mithral chain shirt held out in his hands. "We've got different ways of getting through a fight. You've seen my way; I've seen yours. I thought that this might help you." He hands the ethereally-light silvery-gray shirt to the gladiator.
"Anyhow, I hope this patches stuff between us, at least some of it." Squint turns and walks out of the parlour, cold beads of sweat on his brow from his efforts.
Seeing Paeral reading about monuments, Barkot grabs some books from the same section and quickly finds an entry regarding a display of statues the party passed through in Dockway.
The Eyes of the Hawk depicts an adventuring party led by two wizards defeating a monstrous spider monster.
After consulting several books, Barkot determines a trend in the reports. People who spend time studying the statues have more martial success against certain monsters.
"Hot damn! Dat's what I been lookin' fer!"
Barkot looks over to the table where Paëral is working to see if the elf wants to compare notes.
Before dawn on day 2, Barkot creeps out of the Manor and makes his way to the Eyes of the Hawk monument. He sits down on the ground, leans against a nearby tree or wall, and stares at the monument trying to figure out what he needs to do to activate it.