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You are Aspis Consortium operatives, hand-picked by your superiors for one of the most daring missions ever attempted against the hated Pathfinder Society. For centuries the Society has been the hyena of the archaeological world, descending upon legitimate Aspis operations to snatch whatever the Pathfinders want, kill hardworking contractors, and grow wealthy on the profits of their “historical preservation.” As they say, the victors write the history books, and the widely distributed Pathfinder Chronicles paint the Society’s piracy as heroism guided by a moral compass as true as the wayfinder each agent carries.
Despite the thick walls and heavy windows of the rented home that serves as your safe house, the passage of Pathfinders from across the Inner Sea region creates a muted rumble as they make their pilgrimage to the Society’s Grand Convocation, an annual gathering in which Pathfinders tell tales of their exploits, show off their discoveries, and celebrate another successful year. Every additional Pathfinder is another set of eyes to spot trouble and another blade ready to defend the Grand Lodge, yet every voice and footstep makes it even safer to discuss the impending attack.
A tall dark-skinned man dressed in the robes of a wizard stands in front of you looking each of you over carefully he appears confident.
"This better go well. Too many times the Pathfinders have come out on top. My first mission of leader, better not be doomed from the start."
"Hundreds of our agents and sympathizers are assembling throughout Absalom in preparation to attack on the Pathfinder Society’s Grand Lodge. Most of these teams are in position to sow chaos, lure the Pathfinders’ attention elsewhere, and keep the rest of Absalom from interceding."
He pauses before continuing. "We have a special assignment."
"We will infiltrate the Grand Lodge, using the festival and throngs of unfamiliar faces to cover our movements. Gather what additional information you need, meet with any informants your you know about, and lay the groundwork for the coming assault—split into smaller groups, if necessary. Our cue to enter Skyreach—the towering stronghold the Society thinks unassailable—will be a speech given by their Master of Swords Marcos Farabellus. Agents will start ushering Pathfinders toward one of the lawns and pouring drinks for a toast, giving us a fairly generous window to get inside."
"Once inside Skyreach, we have two major objectives: 1) open the Hao Jin Tapestry gateway, and 2) secure the Sky Key in that order."
"First, we will need to obtain some notes from a vault beneath Skyreach—a section called the Antarnicus Wing, used for most of the tapestry’s treasures. We will need to break in."
The man nods at the roguish one seated in front of him.
"Once we have secured the notes, we must get to the tapestry chamber quickly."
"We will open the gateway, and welcome our allies from inside the demiplane."
"After we set them on their tasks, we will ascend to the small museum where the Society is keeping the Sky Key. It’s the usual routine: take care of any guards, grab the target, get out, and keep the whole operation clean. A second team (listen for the code “Five fingers till Oathday“) should find us soon after; we will pass them the Sky Key, and get out."
The mission seemed difficult. Whether 322 chose to come to Absalom out of her own volition or was forced to go as some sort of test, she quietly listened as the dark-skinned wizard spoke, her eyes locked on with his, a fine glaze covering them.
The elf wears a dark black cloak, a sharp contrast to her porcelain white skin. Her eyes are deep irises of emerald, so large you almost cannot see the white around them. A sullen look constantly covers her face, and the bags underneath her eyes would have you believe 322 really doesn't sleep much, if at all.
She had a dream last night, par for the course given her connection to other planes, and it spoke exactly of this. It wasn't odd, then, that 322 found herself standing before a group of agents with a new mission, although perhaps her goals differed from those of the others. The professor said so, anyway.
"I... understand," is all 322 is able to say as she listens closely, her eyebrow ever so slightly raising when the Sky Key is mentioned.
Leaning his chair lazily against the wall of their safe house, a Chelaxian man with a less-than-friendly demeanor sits with his arms folded. As he listens to Rataji's briefing, he pulls a lock pick from a carefully concealed pouch in the folds of his cloak and begins picking his teeth. He meets the wizard's gaze and nods when mention of breaking in to the vault comes up, then returns the pick to its carefully chosen position and straightens up.
"So what you're saying is we're on point for this whole endeavor?"' He smiles slightly and says, "Fine with me. Long as I can give the Pathfinders a bad day, I'm happy. One question, though: you say we'll have plenty to distract the agents with the speech and all that, but how are making out entry into Skyreach? I'm guessing even with Farabellus yammering on, they're still gonna have a few guards posted on the doors to heir main citadel right?"
In nondescript casual clothes, a Taldan woman sits unobtrusively. In any other setting she would be easily overlooked. Coolly appraising everyone.
"His colleagues might rate these people highly, but it looks like I have my work cut out for me. I hope I am wrong or this is doomed from the start"
She leans forward her expression neutral, her voice carrying no hint of censure. "Let's not make this personal, that never ends well."
she pauses and sips from the tumbler of water beside her"We do need to tighten up some of the details before we move on, however"
Thumbing the hilt of her blade, she listens to the others absent-mindedly. "Where there's a will, there's a way." mumbles the scarred halfling.
Looking over her companions, she considers their pptential. Hmm, the thief will be handy. Not sure about the others though. Something is...off with that elf. The old man can have his lead, this rests on his shoulders now. 'Least I'll get my job done.
"We've all been selected for a reason. I suspect a couple guards wouldn't stop us. By all means though, elaborate on your plans."
"Our halfling friend here has the right of it. Any guards unlucky enough not to be participating in the celebrations should be no match for our combined skill. It would be best to achieve our tasks as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. I'm sure the Pathfinders won't notice one or two missing comrades, but we should avoid unnecessary risks out in the open."
Elaborate on our plans, she says?
322 nods as she listens to the other agents who have gathered. She knows what she has to do, she just hopes she can continue to tell the difference between what is real and what is something out of the Tapestry.
"I got it. I stand ready to support you all to the best of my abilities. Do let me know if you should succumb to wounds during our mission." She says with monotony and precision in her pronunciation, almost to the point of sounding robotic.
Marnarius simply shrugs. "Sounds clear enough to me. When can we get started?"
"If we are to succeed, we will all need to support one another."She takes great pains to hide her scepticism"infiltrating the heart of the Pathfinders stronghold will be no easy task, preparation is of the utmost importance.
She puts her glass down and steps forward, looking towards Rataji "with your leave..."
"I have also received intelligence regarding the so-called 'Master of Scrolls', who is in charge of the security of the vault. He appears to have entrusted keys with a subordinate"She unfolds another sheet of paper, a halfling's visage etched upon it."This is Janira Gavix, she is fanatically loyal to the master of scrolls, so bribery or coercion is not an option. It would appear she has a love of stories and crowds, so parting her from the keys will not necessarily be straightforward, but I have no doubt easier than walking through a vault door" she pauses to see who is paying attention. "Making a scene, whether by bystanders scream or reckless explosion is a complication that another must clear up. Let's keep this one nice and clean, and we will all make it back in one piece"
"If you've got some information to share Shorhiraj, do so."
"This mission better not fail because these fools are withholding information."
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1. Gate: A pair of massive, steel doors stands open during all but the greatest emergencies. This is the only official entrance to the Grand Lodge.
2. Skyreach: This five-towered fortress houses the offices of the Society’s most important figures as well as countless libraries and storage facilities. Many of its floors and hallways are off-limits, meaning few know the full extent of what lies within.
3. Water Palace: This low, pagoda-roofed manor is a place of quiet study and meditation. It also houses many of the Society’s relics from beyond the Inner Sea region.
4. The Center House: This home of Ustalavic design has remained off-limits by order of the Decemvirate for as long as anyone can remember. On some nights, lights shine from within, suggesting its two towers are haunted.
5. The Mausoleum: This stone-columned fortress is dedicated to unlocking the greatest mystery of all—death. Scholars study everything from burial practices to the necromantic arts of long-faded civilizations. The guiding rule is that no innocents are harmed, and even the creation of undead is relatively rare.
6. The Quadrangle: Many of the dormitories and classrooms for initiates in training are in this set of ivy covered stone buildings.
7. Arliss Hall: Many resident Pathfinders inhabit modest flats in Arliss Hall, which is a maze of featureless corridors. There are many more halls and rooms than there are residents, and it is believed that none other than venture-captains are allowed into the central courtyard.
8. Starhall: This keep has a high, domed tower on its east end, and it holds much of the Society’s knowledge about worlds beyond Golarion and the Material Plane.
9. Outbuildings: These include residences for visiting Pathfinders, stables, smithies, bathhouses, warehouses, Pathfinder-only shops, and more.
10. Menagerie: Pathfinders sometimes bring back exotic creatures for study or domestication. Many of these animals and magical beasts are dangerous and must be corralled. The zoo’s rotating population attracts visitors from across the city.
11. Training Arena: Only a wooden fence and benches surround this dirt-floored arena. It is here that Pathfinders spar and practice their fighting techniques.
12. Temporary Structures: When the outbuildings are insufficient to house visitors, tents spring up here to manage the overflow. During the Grand Convocation, this area is especially packed thanks to the Pathfinders who have journeyed here from thousands of miles away.
13. Wall of Names: This curving wall of black glass is a memorial to Pathfinders who have perished in the pursuit of knowledge, and each such name appears on its surface. A thick copse of trees provides visitors some privacy at this solemn place of reflection.
14. Seeker’s Plaza: This small shrine houses bronze statues of some of the Society’s most important members.
15. Baphory’s Walk: This pathway is infamous for its waist-high carved heads from the Mwangi Expanse. At random intervals and when nobody is watching, the faces can change their expressions in an instant.
16. Statue of Durvin Gest: This 20-foot-high stone statue depicts Durvin Gest, one of the founders of the Pathfinder Society and widely considered to be its greatest adventurer.
17. Repository: This is a featureless building of gray stone with no doors or windows. The way inside is among the venture-captains’ best-kept secrets.
18. Southgrove: This stretch of trees is purposefully left untended, providing visiting Pathfinders who need a break from the city space to retreat.
Marnarius stands and moves to the table where Shohiraj has laid out the map. He listens closely to the description of the halfling Janira. "So what you're saying is that we should try to stall the signal to set off the distractions until we have secured the keys from this halfling? Hmm...very well. I do have one other piece of intel that might help draw away more Pathfinders once we are ready, though. Tseka mentioned that there are more creatures imprisoned by the Society in the Zoological Gardens, here," he points to the appropriate spot on the map. "When we're ready to make our move, I suggest we do something about loosing some of the beasts on them. That should hold them up and give us plenty of time to make a clean entry and get on with the larger mission."
The halfling stands up to get a better view of the map. "Yes, this is nice. The beasts would be fun, just be careful we don’t get caught up in the fray."
Eyeing Shorhiraj, 'That one seems a bit over concerned about the pathfinders welfare. I suppose a few corpses early on would seem suspicious.'
"That sounds like quite a good idea Marnarius. Is setting that trap a one man job or would you like another set of eyes and hands to help spring it?"
"Shohiraj it seems like you could use a distraction. Any ideas?"
322's eyes move from agent to agent as she stands there, expressionless, listening to the others. When Marnarius offers a suggestion, she speaks up, "Allow me to assist with those beasts. Like most people, they should have no issues obeying my commands. I can be persuasive with my words and my weapons all the same." Her tone is quite matter-of-fact. You catch a glimpse of light reflecting off of two daggers tied to her sides.
"Distractions are good, even just engaging her in conversation should be all the opening I need"Shohiraj looks pensively at the map "coordination might be an issue, it would be ideal if the beasts could be freed as, or just after I obtain the keys."
Shohiraj studies the map intensely, plans to minimise the risk running through her head.
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Gathering up the courage to complete your mission, each of you in turn makes your way through Absalom's wide streets, blending in with the lengthy parade of Pathfinders. Reaching the Foreign Quarter, the resplendent white marble Grand Lodge towers above all, side towers clinging at various heights in an almost unbelievable feat of architectural splendor.
Passing through the open gates (through laughably lax security protocols) you finally enter the grounds of the Pathfinder headquarters. There are easily a thousand people in view, and that view is obstructed at its edges by lavish gardens and outbuildings that fill the fields surrounding the Grand Lodge.
Music plays in several places in the distance, and the smell of exotic foods hangs in the air. An occasional animal roar punctuates the festivities. The crowd you entered with begins to disperse, many to the left to greet long-lost friends at the hastily constructed visitor's tents.
A curious half-orc, bedecked in Osiriani robes, appears from behind the tower and flies unerringly to where you stand, alighting gracefully.
"Welcome to the Grand Convocation! May this day be like no other for you!"
With a quick huff, he springs back into air and disappears again.
Shohiraj looks around at her companions, focusing briefly on Rataji, awaiting his signal to proceed.
this is as good as it gets, plans are all set as much as they can be, There are a lot of factors we just can't timetable or account for, so now let's see if I can keep things from going wrong
"You have your plans to aid our mission. Carry them out. Meet outside the arena in minutes to corroborate on any tasks that will need extra attention. May the Sepents Rise."
Rataji strides confidently through the main gates towards Skyreach, the statue, and on to the arena casually observing his surroundings as he goes. First, to see if he notices obvious guards at the main doors to Skyreach and also to gather any useful information that he can from those he passes by.
322 nods firmly when Rataji directs the group. "Understood. We all know what we need to do," she says, pulling her cloak down so that her eyes are barely visible. She thinks about the mysterious visitor from last night and the tasks she had been given. As she moves through the gates, she pays no attention to the loud half-orc man, and instead floats through town towards the Starhall, finding its architecture and its connection to worlds beyond Golarion intriguing.
As the agents enter the gates, he immediately looks around to gain his bearings and determine the quickest way to the Zoological Gardens. As the half-orc welcomes them, a cold, strained smile crosses his face and he nods at the exuberant Pathfinder. "The same to you, sir," he mutters as the man floats away, "The same to you."
Once he knows where he is heading he nudges Shohiraj and speaks into her ear, "I'll release the beasts just after you've obtained the key from Gavix. Have one of our magically-gifted friends here signal me with a light spell of some kind. Just toss the lit object high enough that I'll be able to spot it from the gardens and I'll do my part."
"See you then." responds the Halfling.
As she passes through the gate, she grins at the half-orcs words. I suspect it will be. "One can hope." she announces cheerily.
Joliryn meanders past the menagerie glancing at the beasts there. Proceeding past the training area, she comes to the Wall of Names.
She looks around the area to see who is near.
Gazing at the wall, she mumbles a few of the names as she follows it down. Once she's close enough, the female whispers "The wall slithers like a snake through grass." Punctuating her words with a low sigh, she awaits a response; never taking her eyes off the wall.
Shohiraj looks past Marinarius towards the Menagerie I'm sure one of them can accommodate us in one way or another just no improvising, ok
With a barely perceptible nod to Rataji Shohiraj wanders of, casually blending with the crowd.
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Rataji's ears perk open as the loose-lipped pathfinders around him speak about all manner of adventures and missions. Arrogant fools. A particularly impressive group of them gathers near the training ground and from their manner and interactions with the other pathfinders, Rataji surmises they are venture captains and overhears the following interesting tidbits, punctuated by drunken laughter.
"The Grand Convocation is particularly crowded this year. So many agents from all over Golarion. And several dignitaries from Absalom are finally in attendance. We are getting our due, at last. I mean, who really powers this city, am I right?"
"Now, I've seen Kreighton and Marcos wandering about, but has anyone seen Aram Zey?
"I haven't, but it’s not especially surprising, given Zey’s dislike of crowds and dealing with the public. He's probably in bed, covers pulled tight."
"Well lads, I've just instructed my junior agents to begin unloading those kegs of dwarven whiskey from carts on the Center House lawns just in time for Farabellus’s big speech."
"Ah yes, I personally can't wait for the announcement that the long awaited reconstruction of the Sky Key has concluded."
"Is it guarded properly? I mean it has to be our most prized acquisition since..."
"Of course it is. Don't you remember that memo from Valsin asking us to offer the service of agents who bungled expeditions or owe the Society a debt? Yeah, that's whose guarding the prize. Several dozen of our best misfits."
"As a matter of fact, I bet that's where poor old Aram is right now. Supervising the misfits on the walls and in the halls."
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322 wanders to the Starhall.
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Shohiraj meanders through many locations on her way to the Statue of Durvin gest.
It is there that she sees a curious halfling woman who matches her sketch of Janira Garvix precisely, addressing a crowd of agents from atop a stone bench.
"And with that my good friends," the halfling intones with unabashed excitement "Selmius Foster - one of the first , perhaps one of the greatest, ever published in the Pathfinder Chronicles—won his fabled race against the keen marid and efreeti princes, whom he simply tricked into distracting one another while he sped across the finish line. Thus, the smartest and brightest were fooled by the cleverest and most devious. A lesson we can take to heart, even today! I bid you farewell until next time, yours truly, the unshakeable J. Gavix."
The story earns polite applause, and Janira hops down from the bench she had used as a speaking platform, and makes brief eye contact with you as she heads off to her next "adventure".
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Marnarius and Joliryn head toward the Menagerie, but she breaks free after a casual glance around and head to meet her contact at the Wall of Names.
When she finally reaches the Wall of Names, the immensity of it is quite striking. It is relatively sparse here, only a few agents stand by, including a family who has brought their children to pay remembrance. Yet, even with the numerous trees that shield the monument, the dull roar of agents testing each other’s wits, theories, and strength invades this solemn space.
A chelish looking man in black and white striped robes slowly walks up and down the length of the monument, reading names and nervously touching a leather portfolio. After speaking her phrase, she waits patiently for a response.
The man steps closer and whispers to the wall.
“None would step on so great a serpent.” After a moment’s hesitation, he then adds, “But perhaps it is a fool who invites the viper into his home.”
He stares at the wall for the moment in contemplation and closes his eyes, stifling a tear.
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Marnarius peers at the vast collection of animals in the menagerie, but more importantly, their cages.
Broad pavilions and awnings shade segmented pens containing animals from around the world, ranging from harmless rodents and fowl to hulking dinosaurs from Tolguth, a giraffe mutated by the Mana Wastes, and war beasts from the Hold of Belkzen.
A few heavily reinforced cages hold even stranger creatures, such as an immense two-headed vulture, a ram-headed sphinx, and an armor-plated serpent with fangs the length of a broadsword.
It certainly looks like the cages are well-designed and locked. Each enclosure’s fence is thick enough to prevent the creature inside from breaking out before handlers might calm it. The enclosures all have heavy padlocks.
Hmm! she's alert, which makes this a mite more difficult... or more interesting Shihiraj notes with an smile that will never reach her face.
322 looks ahead, then behind her, her hand moving to her dagger. Every hair on her body stands on end as the whisper is heard, her heart pounding in her chest. What was that... Professor? She keeps looking around in an attempt to discern the source of the voice.
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Janira seems a bit perplexed and is muttering the story she just told under her breath, as if to catch herself in an inaccuracy. She wanders over to a nearby food vendor and purchases a salted bread knot. It appears she has no knowledge you are tracking her.
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322 stands in the middle of the great entry of the Starhall. Pathfinders and their families wander aimlessly through the exhibits around her. The weight of the item she carries seems to grow heavy. Find a host for this for maximum damage. Don't let anyone see you. The voices echo in her mind for a moment and she snaps instantly back to reality, to the harmless sounds of footsteps clacking on the marble floors and the laughing of children.
Marnarius strides around the menagerie, gazing at the assortment of beasts trying to gauge which ones would cause the greatest disruption. As he examines the beasts, he searches his experience to see if he recognizes any of the creatures.
Once he has determined the best option for which beast he should release, he hides himself near its cage, ready to begin springing the padlock when he sees the signal showing that Janira's key had been seized.
322 shakes her head rapidly as the sounds fade, snapping back into reality. A host... But who.. Or what? She looks around for any sort of automaton, statue, or golem-like entity within the Starhall that may be suitable for the task she is to carry out.
Considering his words, she steels a glance at the man, she whispers, "Would it not be foolish to allow these losses to be in vain?" Eyeing the envelope, she adds " You've a chance to see these artifacts be properly cared for."
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Marnarius studies the animals carefully for a few long minutes. One of the war beasts from Belkzen will do just fine, he surmises. He moves carefully up to the cage and begins to fiddle with its monstrous lock. It's sheer size presents him with some difficulty, it will definitely take some more time to get the hang of it. Then the thought crosses his mind. How is he going to calm these creatures down once the locks are open anyway. He reasons, likely correctly, that his skill in handling animals may be...lacking?
As he ponders this conundrum, a thickly accented voice calls out from a cage a few dozen feet away. The sphinx.
"What does the future portend for one who would heed the wise words of the judge of fortune, myself, a sphinx?"
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322 peers around and finds a couple of exhibits that would suit her purpose. A huge behemoth clad in onyx and golden armor, labeled as a "Marut", and an even larger replica of an earth elemental pieced together with boulders and hard-packed dirt. But it will be very difficult to do with everyone watching.
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"But I will be adding names to this wall..." the cleric says, head drooped.
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"Sir, why don't we go somewhere more private to discuss matters?"
Hopefully he'll be more cooperative away from these names. I suspect promising not to add to the wall wouldn't be helpful.
A sly grin crosses her mouth at the thought. Joliryn attempts to lead the man away from the wall.
322 moves swiftly and tries to blend with the shadows as she moves to carry out her first task: attempting to attach the hexagonal pad to the gigantic earth elemental. With her dark cloak pulled tightly around her face, she uses her small size in comparison with the creature to assist in her stealth like an ant marching next to a mountain.
Marnarius looks over at the sphinx with a thoughtful glance, "Fortune belongs to the wise and to those who heed wisdom's guidance. Speak on, Judge."
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Maranrius spots the creature better now, it has the wings of a bird, the body of a lion, and the head of a ram with sad, wise eyes. The sphinx leans back and relaxes on its haunches as Marnarius listens.
“A time comes when the shackled shall walk among men, voicing their grievances with a hundred horns. These children—who strain at false laws—know not that the time is not today, but no man can chide them, for he knows not their tongue. Their castle of chains shall fall away, and only a lion or sheep shall be their herald, calling out to let them know that their time in the sun has arrived...”
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The man seems lost in though for a moment. "What? Oh yes, I suppose this isn't the best place to talk." He follows you solemnly into the thick copse of trees, away from the memorial.
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322 slides up and around the elemental, with nary a footfall. With an unnatural grace, she pulls the pad out and nudges it closer to the elemental's grimy husk. It begins to activate and small claws extend from each side, latching onto the rocky frame.
When it attaches, the mirrored surface flashes and an etched inscription appears upon it, written in Aklo.
322 nods in satisfaction, her task complete. The masked one said to activate it when I saw fit. Professor, grant me the wisdom to know when the time is right. She turns to walk back out of the Starhall.