Welcome to GM Chadius's Solstice Scar B.
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Every stereotype ever leveled against or for a dwarf walks into the room. Brak Thunderstriker, the younger brother brother of the more famous Dorvhan, stands resolute with a smile carved into his immaculately trimmed beard.
With gauntleted hand he alternates between stroking an obsidian mustache and caressing his freshly shaven head.
The dwarf's arms and armor are expertly crafted and bear his own imprint, for Brak makes his own gear.
"Syrak! You magnificent bastard! How are you? It's been some time. I see you're as strange as ever with that armor and magic. Torag's beard!" The dwarf looks at the others. "Aye! I know most of ye. Looking forward to this. Is gunbee good!"
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A tall dark skinned half elven woman walks in and drops her pack to the floor. A black metal spear is slung across her back. She is swathed in dark coloured silks but there is the rustle of armour beneath them as she moves about the room.
She paces over to the window and hops onto the sill. I hate all this waiting around, I wish they would just tell us what's happening so we can get on with it...
She trails off, brooding. My name is Chandu, I do not think I have met any of you before but no doubt we will find a way to work together...
She does not sound entirely convinced by her own words.
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Ibaz is a muscular stout half-orc with a big scar on his face and an old ugly mark making him the property of an Okeno slaver.
He has simple clothing, robe, sandals and except for his headband with the symbol of Abadar and a big great axe on his back, nothing of valor.
At his side, several wands and a big book.
He bows to his comrades already present and just says Ibaz.
The fourth and final day of training has come to a close at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, heralding the end of this year’s Torchbearing. Pathfinders the world over attend this annual symposium to share their knowledge, teach each other new skills, and reinforce their connections across the Inner Sea and beyond. To celebrate the end of festivities, the lodge has hosted a grand banquet in the visiting agents’ honor. A refreshing winter breeze blows through an open window, flickering torches and sending papers scattering. The smell of freshly baked desserts fills the air while initiates clear away the remnants of the first course.
The Three Masters, along with other notable Pathfinders, taught a variety of classes, from Golarion’s history to spellcasting techniques, and ran obstacle courses and a triathlon.
Based on the result of a Diplomacy (Gather Information) or Knowledge(Local) skill check, you might know more about the Torchbearing.
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Chandu has spent the day taking part in the many athletic contests. She arrives at the banquet hot, sweaty and with her arms around a pair of fellow competitors chatting amiably over their wins and losses.
Slipping lose of the two she heads over to the group. Well, today has been all kinds of interesting. Has anyone heard who has been chosen by the masters? They have been watching all of us closely, probably looking for people who might serve the Decemvirate directly she mutters with a hushed whisper. Do any of you know if anyone has been taken off into Skyreach for a personal audience? That would be something special I am sure...
She plops herself down into a seat and grabs the nearest drink, clinking it with others mugs the takes a deep gulp.
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The front doors of Skyreach burst open with a loud crack. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin strides to the edge of the platform, with a slender elf dressed in practical but expensive clothing trailing meekly behind. The red-faced venture-captain addresses the crowd in a booming voice.
“Pathfinders, I regret interrupting the festivities, but we have something of a situation. Approximately twenty minutes ago, unknown forces invaded the Blakros Museum. Fortunately for everyone involved, the Torchbearing is about cooperation and helping our colleagues, so let’s think of this less as an inconvenience and more as an opportunity to practice what we preach.”
The elf, Nigel, exhales sharply, then speaks, “Now, Ambrus, I’ve spent a king’s ransom fortifying the museum from all sorts of invaders: sentinels from the Golemworks, magical wards from the Arcanamirium, and even contracts for guard beasts, both magical and mundane—spared no expense. I didn’t want to come here, but I’ve got no choice.”
Valsin’s forced smile cracks slightly, showing his annoyance. “Out with it, Nigel. Get to the point.”
“Someone broke into my museum and set off the magical protections! I was preserving priceless Shining Crusade pieces for our new exhibit when the first alarm activated. I sent for district guards and went to investigate, but by the time I arrived, the thieves had already locked themselves in my study. They somehow caused the Shining Crusade relics to fly around the museum and attack my sentinels. Everything is going haywire! The magical traps started to target me, the sentinels are not responding to my commands, and—”
Valsin holds out a hand to steady the increasingly agitated elf. “The last you knew, the thieves were still in your study?” Nigel nods. “Very well. Pathfinders: the Seekers should prepare to teleport directly into the Blakros study—“
“That won’t work,” Nigel interrupts, “The study is magically sealed. After that dreadful Numerian exhibit, I turned it into a magical safe room. The robbers must have figured out how to activate it; no one can get in or out while the wards hold. I can work on breaking the wards, but meanwhile my sentinels are smashing up the collection. Some of those priceless relics are on loan from your own Society lodges, so helping me is really helping yourselves.”
“Fine.” Ambrus Valsin takes a deep breath and then turns to the assembled Pathfinders. “Pathfinders, go to the Blakros Museum, secure any relics you can, disable the security systems, and apprehend the looters if possible. Stay safe.”
The Blakros museum. Again.
What do you remember about the Blakros family? Make a Knowledge (nobility) check.
And what about the Blakros Museum? Make a Knowledge (local) check.
And what do you know about Nigel Aldain? Make another Knowledge(Local) check.
As you approach the museum, you have the opportunity to approach the museum on the first floor or go straight to the second floor.
Dozens of Wise District guards surround the Blakros Museum. The sergeant nods to Ambrus Valsin as he approaches, a subtle smirk dancing across the venture-captain’s face. The museum itself is alight with swirling whorls of color and the sounds of metal and stone clashing. Occasionally, brief flashes of light burst from the front entrance, illuminating a toppled banner that says “Legacy of the Shining Crusade.”
The sergeant of the Learned Guard is named Svaralk of Asleifar. You can tell he is of Ulfen heritage, and looks upon the museum with a look of amusement and wonder. ”Hmpf. In all my seven years of service here, I’ve never seen something this dramatic. This museum has always been troublesome.” He laughs. ”Men! Form a perimeter! None of those relics are leaving the museum. Best they wear themselves down first and we clean up what’s left afterwards.”
Nigel glares at the guard. ”You’re not going in there? Unbelievable! What do we even pay you for? The museum will be ruined before then! BAH!” Nigel raises his hands and stomps off to coordinate an assault with the Pathfinders. Svaralk waits for the elf to leave before looking back at the museum. ”I’d be mad too- until I learned how many guards already died trying retake the museum.”
Svaralk approaches you and gives a basic layout of the museum. ”On the ground floor, there are a few areas of interest. The Shining Armory has a lot of artifacts from the Shining Crusade. There is also the Crusader’s Chronicles exhibit. Lots of old clockwork in there that made a mess.”
Nigel finishes complaining and runs up to you all. He points towards a shimmering set of lights that flutter to and fro. ”See those lights? That’s the magical ward I got from the Arcanamirium. They control all of the magical traps in the museum. If you shut them down everyone will have an easier time.”” He gives a Svaralk a side glance. ”Everyone.”
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There is always something at the Blakros Museum! This place is cursed!
Ibaz follows his comrades to the museum, he uses one of his wand to cast mage armor on himself and false life
He listen to the sergent, but says nothing until the end.
I can disable mechanical traps, not the one magical. Anyway, I will follow you inside.
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A slightly out of breath half orc comes running in as the group gets ready to go in.
"Wait! I'm Seiran Leogil and by the love, grace and beauty of Shelyn! Wait for me to catch up! I was caught in a teleport spell gone awry as I received the summons."
"You'd never know how hard it is to keep a note or to catch your breath after such a note."
Under a sign that reads “The Shining Armory,” priceless Shining Crusade artifacts displayed on pedestals creak and move by some unseen force. Eerie light seems to dart between the objects while the din of a raging battle echoes throughout the chamber. The central feature is a low, artificial hill atop which stand two stuffed owlbears surrounded by shattered undead foes. Each of the beasts wears chainmail barding and an orange-and-black caparison depicting a stylized owlbear. A dead man dressed in furs lies on the floor before a suit of full- plate armor.
There is a plaque at the base of the artificial hill. If you read it, make a DC 20 Knowledge(Nobility) check to identify the group based on the owlbears’ caparisons.
You hear the sounds of an owlbear hooting...
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Seeing everyone buff up for entering, Will checks the backs of his fingernails and yawns. [b]”I believe I was asked never to return to this museum, but now they want me back? Can’t get enough of William Hawk![/ooc]
Following the others inside, though, Will goes silent and tries to sneak in through the edge of the doorway to scout from the dark corners.
Will Hawk becomes quiet as a mouse as he sneaks along the exhibit. That's when he locates the sound of the hooting.
One of the stuffed owlbears around the plaque is moving on its own. It hears the party pulling out wands and enhancing themselves, and it moves right past Will Hawk.
Seiran Leogil
Ibaz
Will Hawk
Syrak
Enemy
Chandu
Only Chandu seems to be caught off guard as the owlbear turns toward the party.
Ibaz takes the intiative and is unable to get through the owlbear's 100% authentic natural armor or the chainmail barding around it.
Will Hawk takes advantage of his position and catches the Owlbear off guard, piercing through some of its mechanical innards.
Seiran Leogil
Ibaz
Will Hawk
Syrak
Enemy (-6)
Chandu
Brak has a chance to move before the Owlbear moves!
Mega Syrak deals a blow, denting the armor.
Syrak and Will know that they didn't hit the creature as hard as they should have- it seems especially hard and resistant to damage.
Surrounded by 3 juicy targets, the owlbear begins to bite and claw.
The Owlbear sinks a claw into the half-orc.
Chandu
Seiran Leogil (11 or 31 damage depending on AC)
Ibaz
Will Hawk
Syrak
Brak
Enemy (-16)
The Pathfinders move as one, including Chandu!
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Hello, err, yes, erm, what's going on. Apparently Chandu was looking the other way, as she turns round her mouth drops open at the sight of the huge bloody owlbear.
, arcana +13, all others +9
Chandu slides around the beast to provide another flank. Come on everyone, we can do this, this is what we have been training for. Remember your lessons, Marcus taught you well how to deal with big lumbering stupid enemies.
As she gets into position the tip of her black metal spear bursts into a glowing Glyph of the Open Road.