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"I think Olik is right in leaving this room the way we found it. I was thinking, with the gentleman's talk of tomb robbers, perhaps part of this test is to take only what we were asked to retrieve. Perhaps we should leave the wand behind."
After Salador uses the sceptre-key to open the door (assuming it works), Jirani removes it and brings it to Olik to replace in its chest. He takes the moment to take a closer look at the decoration of the sceptre.
Salador scrambles to try the key on the door, finding the hole he places it inside, turning it to a click as the door unlocks and creaks open a bit. Upon opening the door you see the servant waiting outside to usher you back to Amenopheus.
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Salador quickly exits the room gasping for air and seeming to have color return to his face. Looking back he addresses the rest of the party.
Sorry and thank you I have a problem with enclosed spaces
wiping the sweat from his brow he looks at the wand
the wand will assist in opening things. It is used to unlock that which is locked
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Salador will quietly slide over to Tamarie and Tessara and whisper to them,
Thank you for your help back there. Enclosed spaces without a window or open door cause me fear. I know it is not rational but it stems from things in my past. but what you did helped so I thank you both
At that Salador will walk quickly realizing they had come to the one errand he was looking forward to the most. He was excited to see this treasure from the vault.
After reaching the top of the stairs you find the servant is waiting there. The servant notes that you can keep the map and wand and guides you back to the Sapphire Sage.
"Ah! I see you have recovered the map of the Salhar family vaults! I am pleased that your skill with traps is apparently well trained. I will send notice of your success, along with your payment, to the Lodge as soon as time allows. It should be waiting for you before sunset." Once finished with his thought, he again returns his attention to his work, and pays no further attention to your group as the servant ushers you out of the study.
With only one task remaining you head to the Ivy District to visit Paracountess Zarta Dralneen.
Arriving at Paracountess Zarta Dralneen’s townhouse in the Ivy District—one of several homes the noblewoman keeps around Absalom—you come upon a magnificent gothic structure three stories in height. The ebon lacquered double doors wrought with gleaming silver fixtures greet you, a prickly brass cone hanging from a chain serving as the door chime. Moments after ringing it, a servant in loose casual attire opens the door, greeting your group as if expected. The servant remains quiet, explaining, “My mistress will answer any questions you have once we reach her quarters.” Led through well-appointed sitting rooms, ballrooms, and a grand stairway granting a view of an elaborate study, you finally arrive on the third floor of the house, at the door of Zarta’s personal study, which lies beyond her bedroom. Knocking upon the door and announcing his presence, the servant opens the darkly stained wooden door.
A large intricate carpet dominates the marble floor in this sitting room. A chaise sits along the north wall and a desk spans the southeast corner, its chair positioned with its back to the southwest corner of the room. Three comfortable chairs are positioned around a small, low circular table.
Sitting in the chair behind the desk, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen regards you with a wry smile, putting away a few papers before standing to address your group of hopeful Pathfinders.
“Aldor, you are dismissed. Close the door behind you and attend to your other tasks.” She then turns her attention to the group. “It’s always so incredibly adorable when I see a fresh faced batch of Pathfinders. I mean, look at you scrumptious little teacakes. I could eat each and every one of you up. Well, maybe not you.” Zarta points. “I assume this isn't a pleasure visit since most of you are terribly overdressed for that manner of occasion, so that must mean you are here for that trinket Valsin has been nagging me about. Seems I can’t get that man around these parts anymore,” she gestures, sliding her hand down her body and widening the gesture to sweep out and across the room as if her home were a secondary thought. “On the good side, he always sends me all the precious new recruits."
“Many think we in Cheliax serve and worship devils, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, we use the creatures for their power. They serve us and we sculpt their power in our own interests. The world must come to terms with the order of things. People need to know their place and operate accordingly. It is the only way to make order from this world. Too many people stretch too far beyond their station, making waves and eroding the true order.”
As the paracountess talks, a cacophony of booms and crashes sounds from beyond the room’s west door. She sometimes pauses at an extended eruption of these noises before continuing with the conversation.
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Tamarie is probably a bit jumpy.
"Euh, paracountess, are you sure everything is okay? There seems to be some kind of commotion over there, maybe someone is in trouble?"
Tamarie will move slightly closer to the door, her curiosity getting the better of her, before she can feel Tessara's gazing eyes in her back. She will stop, and try to hide her intent (without much success).
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Ah the song of the unabashed oppressors claiming a man shouldn't stand for himself while their so called betters clamor and scheme for their own power at his expense. I think her tune would change were her place in her glorious "order" that of a slave rather than a paracountess. I wonder if she truly believes men can play devils at their own game without losing their souls. A den of vipers and fools.
Covering his disdain as best he can with diplomacy Olik asks (indicating the noise) :
Paracountess is everything well?
Diplomacy
Zarta explains, “A servant is greatly misbehaving. You’re going to have to deal with it in order to get the trinket.” She goes over to the desk in her study, opening a drawer and drawing out an exquisite silver letter opener shaped like a dagger “You might need this to get it to submit,” she offers with a sly grin.
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Olik makes no move to take the dagger both because he has little inclination to accept anything from the Chelaxian and because he knows his own silver dagger rests sheathed on his hip.
Looking towards the door and steeling himself against the inevitable he continues
What sort of "servant" will we be dealing with? I assume the item we have been sent to get is in there with it?
She grins, her eyes bright with her own amusement. "Alas, the trinket is a seven-lock iron case. I was trying to bypass the protections but haven't had much luck. I would advises not trying to tamper with the case when bringing it back to the Grand Lodge. I can tell you the box is magically warded with abjuration magic intermingled with strong evocation magic, in addition to the seven masterwork locks." Raising an eyebrow and shrugging slightly "I would hate to ruin the surprise, but I would imagine you could take a guess as to what types of servants I keep."
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When everyone is ready to head in Olik will begin to sing in a low deep voice. The song starts quietly but grows louder until its volume is just above speaking level. Though perhaps in an unknown language, as the others listen they can feel the repeating rhythm of the song focus their minds on the task ahead.
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On the way to the last stop, Jirani speaks to Tessara, "I have to say, I'm disappointed in the disregard you showed to me and my people. I would never have shown such disrespect to you or your culture. Now, I'm wondering if all elves are so imperious to other cultures."
Following the servant through the halls of the townhouse, Jirani feels a sense of foreboding. Is there really a difference between the treasures flourished by my Osirions and this gloomy decor? Thousands of years from now, will a fallen Chelaxian culture be sifting through the ruins of this building for its old treasures? Did people feel so intimidated walking through the courts of the pharoahs in all their glory?
During the interaction, when no one else reaches for the silver letter-opener, Jirani steps forward and takes it. He turns it over in his hand and feels its weight in his hand. Beautiful, but deadly, much like its mistress, I expect.
"Yes, I'll lead the way." He straps on his shield, and wields the silver letter opener. "So this thing should be vulnerable to silver? I'm ready when the rest of you are."
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"I didn't see any other member of our group rushing to replace the magical wand in the vault, whether of human or elven blood. I am surprised that you would overlook the fact that that particular item might help us during the rest of our trials. It is important to be practical. I don't see how that would disrespect any culture."
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Seeing Salador readying one of his explosives to throw into the next room, and remembering it's effect on the warehouse, Olik begins to caution Salador. However a quick glance at the Chelaxian and the thought of a room full of her fine furniture being blasted to splinters brings a smile to his lips and he remains silent.
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"I would have been happy to have discussed this before we left the vault. Asking Mr. Amenopheus if the wand was intended for us would have been perfectly reasonable. However, when I voiced my concern about the sensitivity of our host to people taking things that don't belong to them, your response was to steal the wand. Perhaps we should have also stolen the paintings from the walls? We could have sold them for money to buy supplies to help us on our trials, as well? Certainly that would have helped us more than a wand that does what Mr. Salador already has the skills to do for us."
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Tess sighs. Humans and their short sightedness...
"You only said that 'perhaps we should leave the wand behind.' You didn't say that 'it would be an insult to my culture if you take the wand.' Perhaps if you had said what you actually meant, this little fit of yours could have been avoided. However, rest assured, in the future, I will certainly try to avoid insulting your culture, which might call you into conflict with the Pathfinders, which you might remember, we work for."
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Tamarie will intervene, and distract Jirani with idle talk and an avalanche of questions.
"Perhaps you could enlighten me, lord Jirani, by telling me something about your people? I know little of them, and am keen to learn. I have been thinking of going there. How is the weather? I believe there will be plenty of snakes, no? Is it a dry heat? Should I pack special kinds of clothing? Where is the best place to get food? How about the water? Where are you from? The capital?"
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To Tessara: "We were in the same meeting. I expected that you listened to the representative of the Grand Councilmember with the same attention that the rest of us did, or did you dismiss him with the same arrogance that you showed me? I raised a question in the vault. I welcomed discussion. You merely dismissed it. Taking the wand without asking the Sage was disrespectful of my people. Taking it without so much as acknowledging my concern was disrespectful to me. And what if I had been right? What if it had been a test of our trustworthiness? You decided for us all. You put all our careers in jeopardy."
Finished with the elf, and eager to show that his grudge does not extend to her kin, Jirani belatedly accepts Tamarie's intervention. "The Osirian culture is the oldest surviving in the Inner Sea, at least. Possibly in the world. As such, the sands are littered with ancient tombs of Pharoahs - like kings - and other important and wealthy people and families, buried with much of their wealth. As you can imagine, this attracts many to search out those tombs. Some go for the adventure. The most unscrupulous go simply for the gold. But these treasures hold more value to our people than the money they can be sold for. They are the symbols of our nation at its greatest. I... did take part in tomb exploration, myself. However, even then, I respected the sanctity of our history. I tried to identify the trinkets we found, and even though none were especially relevant, I did my best to make sure that they would remain in Osirion after I sold them. It was this care that saved me from execution. So I have no problem with... stealing... but there are some considerations to be weighed. And a little consideration can make a massive difference."
After the party prepares for what horrors they may face on the other side of the door, Jirani and Olik swing the doors open giving free shot to those with ranged weapons before rushing in themselves.
You open the door into the bedroom. Zarta’s bedroom is decorated in the colors of Cheliax—ebon black and crimson red. Silk, rare woods, and carefully carved marble compose every bit of furniture in the room. Goose down now litters the room, covering almost every surface and the silken shreds of the cushions that contained it lie about like flayed skin . A post on the massive screened bed is snapped in half, collapsed on the bed and drawing the screened curtains into a ripped slope of formerly fine cloth. Vials of perfume and crystal jars of other cosmetics sit smashed on the marble floor around the dresser. A prominent fixture in the room, a large “X” made of stout wood sits along the west wall, complete with leather shackles and chains. A table sits to its left strewn with various items intended for pleasure, but outwardly resembling implements of pain.
The imp is enraged and totally out of control. The creature desperately wants inside the box and throws it around the room hoping to smash the thing open. Though dented, the case doesn’t look like it will be opening anytime soon. The imp seems intent on breaking into the box and pays little attention as you open the door.
Salador let's loose his bomb hitting the imp directly with a great explosion, although with such a well placed hit the imp did not seem to take much damage.
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Still singing the steadying Ulfen song of his homeland Olik takes hold of one of the door handles as Jirani takes it's twin. The warrior silently counts down and gives a swift nod. Olik throws open his door as Jirani does the same with his own. The image of the room is only a flashing glance as Olik turns his head from it to shield his eyes from the expected blast of Saladors explosives.
As the wave of heat washes over the side of his face Olik hears the whistle of Tamaries arrow as is flies a hairs breadth from his cheek unerringly flying towards its target. Immediately following its trail, his song raised into a battle shout and his silver dagger flashing, Olik charges the fiend...
Knowledge Planes
Edit to confirm :
Tamarie's arrow flies toward the imp sticking him directly, the full force seeming to effect the imp as it hisses in pain. Olik brings down a masterful strike with his dagger and immediatly the imp tosses the box toward the door, throwing his hands up in the air, waving "Please, please stop... I do not wish to leave so soon and I have not harmed you. Take the blasted box and tell Mistress Dralneen I deserve what comes my way."
The imp shy's away from Jirani, afraid for his existence on the mortal plane but answers the question. "It holds a dark leather bag and a silver hook that allows the user to draw others of my kind — subservient to the user — directly from Hell. I want to hide the bag from mortals to protect devils of my kind." As the imp finishes it's sentence Tamarie steps in loosing another arrow that hits the imp. It drops to the ground momentarily before a puff of fire and smoke consumes the imp leaving a strong smell of sulfur in the room.
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Jirani turns to the huntress. "You're quick with your arrows, Ms. Tamarie." He turns to Olik with a grimace and speaks more softly, so that Zarta won't overhear, "Hopefully, our boss won't mind that we killed her servant."
Jirani puts away his shield on his way out of the bedroom. Back in the office, he sets the letter opener back on the desk. "Thank you. I think we have all that we were sent for."
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In reply to Jiranis comment Olik quietly responds :
"I imagine those pillows were of more value to her than most of her servants...devil or living. Let her bleed off a bit more of her soul summoning another."
He closes the statement spitting on the summoning circle outlined on the floor.
Turning back Olik pats Jirani on the shoulder in comradery to show the venom of his statement is not intended for him but for the paracountess and her ways.