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With a load sqwawk as he practically gets gets turned into a roasted fowl on the spot, Garmit rushes across the room, tendrils of smoke drifting out from behind him. He skids to a halt behind the large form of the ooze, hoping to remain hidden behind the big lump for a moment, until somebody gets to the door to the weapons and opens it up.
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The group scatters hastily, Felicitas taunts seem to have little effect over the din of the crowd as they chatter and move to the edges of the room to clear a proper battleground in the center.
The ooze uses the opportunity to gather more food to its gaping maws.
Struggling to ascertain friend from foe, the two guards engage Filmore and Feli, poking at them roughly with their spears.
Basira screams with rage as the crowd laughs at the dwarven dagger throw that catches him in the glutes.
Scanning the room for worthy targets, he settles first on the elf racing for cover then turns with a laugh and blasts the foolhardy dwarf below.
Satisfied that he has softened everyone up, he lowers to the ground to face the dwarf hand to hand.
Basira (red 5 feet up) -21 damage
Filmore -19 damage
Malusha -30 damage
Garmit -38 damage
Felicitas -14 damage
Amarthecthel -44 damage
Sickly -40 damage
Salamander (yellow)
Salamander (orange)
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The dwarf gives a pained wail as the barrage of fiery rays hits him, though is still standing there, smoking, when it is over, his skin red from the sudden heat.
As Basira then moves in closer, he fishes in his belt pouch once more, this time coming up with a silvery hammer that shouldn't have fit in there either. It looks like it was more intended for pounding in nails, than fighting giant efreeti... still he wields it with wild abandon, smashing at Basira's exposed knee.
, for damage.
He's already breathing heavily.
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Malusha looks over the battlefield. Everything happened so fast and his friends are taking a beating. He notices that the two guards have engaged Feli and Filmore. If he can free those two up to confront Basira... He makes a quick gesture and utters some words of divine magic and suddenly a scimitar appears in the air just behind the guard attacking Filmore. The blade slashes at the guard's back.
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Filmore knowing he will get hit moves towards his damaged friends while finishing his prayer. Even before moving he feels invigorated. He lets the feeling of cool autumn air flow out from him and his party feels Erastil's power pushing them forward. As me moves he pulls out a rod from his pouch.
Everyone heals for five.
I take 25.
Lay on hands for 3d6+6.
Move and provoke.
Channel for 6d6 excluding the bad guys and healing Garmit, Amarthecthel, and Sickly.
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Seeing Sickly momentarily eyeing the various cutlery on the table, Garmit curses himself for not thinking of that option earlier, either. Ducking out from behind the ooze, he moves to the table and quickly grabs a knife and fork in each hand. He then calls on the power of his fancy, magic shirt to get an extra boost of speed and ducks under the table, moving quietly up to take a position right next to Basira, cutlery ready to strike!
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A burst of healing punctuates the room as the party encircles the efreet. Whether he knows it or not.
Taking a swing at the dwarf, Basira realizes he cannot win a war of attrition and changes plans.
He and the guard respond by trying to eradicate the healing gnome...
Basira (red 5 feet up) -42 damage
Filmore -65 damage
Malusha -25 damage
Garmit -12 damage
Felicitas -9 damage
Amarthecthel -15 damage
Sickly -12 damage
Salamander (yellow) -19 damage
Salamander (orange)
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"Leave them alone!" Sickly continues to yell, as the efreeti decides to send more fiery rays at Filmore.
"You're not supposed to attack your guests!" He adds, his face splotchy and red with barely controlled anger. "You ask them to leave. You don't invite them back. You don't try to kill them like some... some big mean person!"
If possible, his face gets even redder, though whether from rage, some sort of rash, or embarrassment at the lameness of his comments is not immediately obvious. He slams his hammer down on the efreeti's wrist, as Basira tries to hit him, then brings it around a second time, going for the knee again.
, for damage.
, for damage.
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Garmit then steps out from under the table, knife and fork raised as if ready to tuck into a delectable meal. "Yeah, I hate to do this to you buddy, but we were just causing a bit of harmless mischief. No call to go all burny and killy on us all of a sudden. You've got a bad temper there, hasn't he guys? Not much of host, that's for sure!" Garmit tries to get the rest of the partygoers riled up to distract the big efreeti.
He then digs into Basira over and over again in a flurry, looking for some really sensitive and tender spots to dig the cutlery into and as if he was in a real rush to finish a meal.
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As beams of searing heat hit his flesh Filmore momentarily loses his concentration and the energy link to some of his party drops. The gnome closes his eyes for an instant and he focuses on the cool autumn breeze he can feel within him. As Filmore opens his eyes he forces this feeling outwards and anyone around feels Erastil’s strength empower them. You can hear the gnome repeating the same prayer to Old Deadeye over and over again. The expensive outfit he is wearing is destroyed and it is easy to see he is moving with a limp.
After taking all that damage as an immediate action I drop the life links on everyone apart from Garmit and Sickly. They heal for five and I take ten.
I five foot step to a slightly safer position.
Then I use my standard and move to channel and quick channel for 12d6 healing ignoring the bad guys and getting anyone within thirty foot.
Seeing that the spellcaster is of great danger Felicitas uses her innate ability to glitterdust the spellslinger.
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The gnome deftly skirts the edges of life and death as the group closes in on the pompous efreet. Basira avoids the worst from Feli's spell.
Smacked hard twice by Sickly, Basira is then caught by the ferociousness of Garmit's words and actions and goes down embarrassingly to his own cutlery and covered in glitter. The crowd gasps turn quickly into laughter and a smattering of applause for the show.
For their part, the salamander guards fight on, but only manage to halfheartedly poke the gnome a few times.
Basira (unconcscious) -145 damage
Malusha -25 damage
Garmit
Felicitas
Amarthecthel
Sickly
Filmore -68 damage
Salamander (yellow) - 19 damage
Salamander (orange) -8 damage
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Sickly watches their host fall to the ground under Garmit's cutlery with a sense of satisfaction. Of course that feeling is quickly supplanted by a sudden uncontrollable itch in a spot he can't quite reach... and the realization that the guards are not backing off!
Still wielding the silver hammer, he ducks past Basira's fallen form, and rushes up to help get the one off of Filmore.
, for (minus DR)
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With Basira safely quelled, the group basks in the glory of their new found fame with the other party-goers, who are (to varying degrees) stunned by Basira's sudden rage.
The front doors suddenly burst open and a cadre of kolyarut inevitables stand in the doorway.
The leader calls out as he surveys the scene and the bloated efreet breathing laboriously on the floor.
-----------------------------------------
Returning to Qalkami’s villa, she meets you in her office once again. She seems considerably more relaxed. Almost too relaxed.
”It seems your attempts to embarrass Basira were quite successful. I am very pleased with that. However, in reviewing the previous tasks I set before you… I noticed… some anomalies.”
Calm and poised, she circles her desk and leans carefully against the edge. Tapping her fingernails on the wood, she begins.
“Strangely, Vassago the imp has gone missing, and when I took another look at the contract you brought back, I discovered it was a decoy. I don’t suppose you could shed any light on that matter?”
Her demeanor suggests she is not finished dressing you down. Standing upright and walking down the line, she makes eye contact with each one of you before continuing.
“Also, I reviewed the signed contract you brought back, and I noticed that there were a few adjustments made. Can you enlighten me as to why?”
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As the fight finishes Filmore stabilizes everyone.
"They attacked us. As you can see we had to defend ourselves with cutlery. If it wasn't for the grace of Erastil we'd be dead and you'd be looking at a murder scene, instead they are just unconscious and will make a full recovery," says Filmore laying on the charm in spades and deliberately brushes away some of his destroyed outfit. Filmore does most of the talking but lets other people chip in a word here and there.
Felicitas starts her performance again.
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Malusha walks around the base of the stairs towards Filmore and the rest of the group. His eyes go wide at the sight of Basira crumpled on the floor. It's amazing that they all survived.
When the inevitables arrive Malusha waits for Filmore to explain then adds a little of his own. "We are glad you have come to help take care of this situation."
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Malusha looks down at his feet while Qalkami addresses the group. He tries not to look too guilty but it's hard for him to ignore the fact that what she is saying is true.
"I'm sorry that you're unhappy with what we did. We did what we thought was best."
"As for the contract, I'm not sure if you noticed but there was some very particular language. We just cleaned it up a bit."
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To Qalkami
The elf, not used to public speaking and made uncomfortable by his perception of the efreeti's beauty, does his best to lie with with a straight face (in the name of good!) "I'm certain we did nothing to materially alter either the document or its terms. It is possible that you are misinformed, madame."
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Not surprisingly, Sickly seems just as uncomfortable on the return visit to Qalkami's abode as he did the first time there. Again he can't seem to meet anyone's gaze, and scratches nervously at some new irritation or, and not saying anything at all if he can help it. For anyone else, the behavior might seem suspicious... but for the dwarf, it is pretty much par for the course.
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At the arrival of the Inevitables, Garmit quickly drops the knife and fork, both dripping with hot red blood, onto the table. "Wow! Way too much chili sauce on that dish!"
At the meeting with Qalkami, Garmit also tries to refute the claims that Qalkami makes, legitimate though they may be.
"Ah, yes, I can see how you'd think that but I assure you that was not our doing. The little fellow must have gotten wind of our arrival. Was nowhere to be seen when we got there. Seems he may have run off and eloped! Who even knew that imps were monogamous creatures? I certainly didn't! Nevermind, though. I'm sure you can find a much better replacement than someone as unreliable as that guy obviously was!"
"Adjustments? No no these are standard contractual clauses. Latest wording as approved in the Contract Clauses Code (CCC) updated only a few months ago. The old wording was just too simplistic, not enough jargon and mumbo-jumbo to adequately obfuscate the true meaning and confuse the lay-man. I'm sure you understand the need for it, though."
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Filmore puts a poultice of this own design on any burns before going to see Qalkami so the team smells particularly herbaceous in the meeting.
”Contracts and legal proceedings aren’t my area of expertise. But we did what was asked. We brought the contract that the imp and his old master gave us and the deal for the water was signed happily. A worker that wants to escape wouldn’t have made a very good worker in the first place. Someone as important as you must be turning down swaths of better candidates every day. Plus I can see having such a good supply of water on a plane like this will be extremely lucrative,” says Filmore as his paladin and fey sides clash and tangle. Being a paladin means he won’t lie but his connection to the fey means he feels at home always telling the truth but speaking nothing but lies.
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Qalkami carefully listens to your various explanations, some more pained than others. Her face remains unreadable throughout. When you have finished, only the faintest of smiles crosses her face. What could that mean?
After a tense silence, she speaks. ”As I stated before, I am very pleased with what you have accomplished for me, so impressed that, once I have relocated to the City of Brass, I want to call in the last piece of what the Pathfinder Society owes me, and I want to request your group -- personally -- to see it through. So, you are welcome to stay here at my home until I call upon you again. Feel free to enjoy the city and its wonders and I will contact you all again very soon.”
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While relaxing and plying your trades from Qalkami’s villa in Zjarra, a few weeks pass before you receive a sealed letter from your venture captain.
Pathfinders,
A cool breeze graces Katheer as I write this, as if acknowledging the way in which you masterfully tame the Plane of Fire itself. It is time for you to leave the comforts of Zjarra behind and embark for a far more ambitious and dangerous locale: the City of Brass!
As you may have put together by now, the efreeti information broker named Qalkami Mishalq owns a secret we dearly need. The Pathfinder Society negotiated an exchange of services, and I only just received word that you have fulfilled many of the efreeti’s demands. We owe only one task more, and that debt will draw us to the fire genies’ capital. Remember that efreet are wily and often cruel, and the City of Brass is their own playground of opulence and mischief. Your safety depends heavily on your patron’s satisfaction; she is a citizen with many rights, and you will be a visitor with few. You need not commit atrocities in her name, but neither should you assume your own moral compass grants you the right to start fights with passersby.
This is such new territory for the Society, and already I have heard your names spoken with awe for accepting this challenge. We shall feast together and toast your success when you return to Katheer.
May shade never be far,
Venture-Captain Esmayl ibn Qaradi
-----------------
The adventure thus begins shortly after you arrive in the Galley Quarter of the City of Brass aboard a cargo ship from Zjarra. Upon disembarking, waiting for you at the dock is a particularly large and approximately octopus-shaped fire elemental that signals to you excitedly.
"Me, Zohz. I take to see you with Qalkami Mishalq. Show city too.” It spits and crackles.
Zohz is true to its word, and it cheerfully serves as an inarticulate tour guide along the way, regularly pointing out important sites and observing whether or not they’re flammable. After an hour of haphazard sight-seeing, you arrive at the destination.
Your efreeti contact has reserved a private dining area in a tavern and incense bar known as the Chromatic Dragon, a brass building with scaly, red-lacquered doors. The interior is thick with fragrant smoke that wafts among the tables, chairs, lavish couches, and booths that surround a well-furnished fire drake enclosure. Zohz lazily salutes the proprietor before ambling to a back room, beckoning you to follow.
Qalkami reclines on a divan beneath a picture of a red dragon triumphantly roaring atop the bodies of its black, blue, green, and white kin. She tosses a satchel of pungent herbs to Zohz, who immediately coils around it and rolls back to the common area to enjoy his now-smoldering payment. “Ah, my favorite outlanders, over here. Sit.”
Qalkami motions to a crimson couch made of reddish leather. “Welcome to the City of Brass, or as we efreet like to call it, Fommok Madinah. You may find this a less welcoming place than Zjarra, but I prefer to think it keeps out the riff raff. Now, we have the deal, the Society and I, to exchange services, and you owe me only one more.”
She sits with you and begins. “Centuries ago, three efreeti houses thwarted one of the largest shaitan invasions ever to attack the City of Brass. My family played an instrumental role. As time went on, however, betrayal, crime, and greed riddled our family’s affairs. Instead of helping us, the other two houses threw us to the flames, seized our assets, and dug up evidence to condemn us. Now one of these houses, the Cinderfurys, is teetering at the edge of oblivion, having tied its prestige too closely to the late grand sultan.”
Qalkami swirls a glass flute of golden liquid, chuckles to herself, and takes a sip.
“It would be politically damaging were I seen sabotaging my old enemy. Especially with so many asking questions about what happened to poor Basira not so long ago. Thankfully, I have a friend in the Society,” she remarks, eying each of her guests in turn, “which can reveal the Cinderfurys for the treacherous worms they are. All that’s necessary is ensuring that the right people find the right evidence in the right places at the right time. Your job involves getting that evidence to the right places. While you’re doing that, I’ll gather the right people at the right time to witness your handiwork. Simple enough.”
She takes some time to gage your reactions to her plan.
“There are a few details and addenda, of course. First, the estate in question is Emberhearth, which keeps most of its security on-call and off-site. Unless you relish drowning in armed guards the moment you make a mistake, you’ll need to neutralize them first. Second, the Cinderfurys maintain a pristine set of local records, and I would like you to secure any local security contracts you find in their library. Third, they keep an heirloom known as the Cinderfury gorget, which you should bring to me. Finally, I have plans for the estate; do keep the destruction to a minimum.”
She smiles politely at Sickly and Garmit.
“Once we begin this operation, you’ll have perhaps four hours to complete everything - perhaps less if you dally or make too much noise. It should be more than enough time to infiltrate and escape Emberhearth. If you take any longer than that, I cannot guarantee your safety.”
Qalkami passes out a set of incandescent orange, palm-sized disks - one to each of you.
”These talismans serve as visas for non-natives entering the Inner Ward as well as protecting the wearer against the region’s ambient heat. They are quite expensive, so losing them would be very unfortunate, and quite dangerous to you. I expect you would turn to ash within heartbeats.”
The efreeti then hands over a metal case with even more material. Inside you find six pieces of incriminating evidence against the Cinderfurys: two tentative contracts (one forged and the other legitimate) between the Cinderfurys and noble shaitans of the Peerless Empire; two secret communications discussing the ruling sultana, including multiple plots to have her assassinated; and two slanderous documents about other noble families in the Noble District. As you examine them, Qalkami further instructs you on how to reach the security complex and Emberhearth.
”So I suppose you have some questions?” She calmly adds, taking another sip.
Using my Loremaster ability and take 20 for knowledge Local 30.
She then tells all the others what she knows about the City of Brass.
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She raises her brow and explains to the gnome. “It’s a unique token of military merit and rank earned by the Cinderfurys’ ancient ancestors and disgraced by their descendants. I intend to see it returned to the sultana, not stolen by some enterprising vulture.”
Smiling, she adds. "I'm sure you are not such vultures."
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Garmit casts his eye over the 'evidence' against the Cinderfurys that Qalkami presents to them for careful placement. "Oh, just out of curiosity, you mentioned these Cinderfurys and the other houses dug up evidence to condemn your family. What was that evidence exactly. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as THIS stuff but, you know, just askin'!"
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Qalkami's eyes narrow slightly as she addresses Garmit. "Well, I have already alluded to that. Greed and crime.. and real estate, a very potent cocktail for the weak of heart. I will spare the specifics, it is, after all - ancient history, and my family has bore the wounds of their treachery for far too long."
She steps uncomfortably close to the tengu.
"Why do you ask? Perhaps you have not satiated your apparent need to right every wrong under the sun. Tread carefully, I will not fall as easily as poor Basira."
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As Qalkami steps up to Garmit, Malusha senses that tensions could escalate. He quickly speaks up. "I'm sure we'll be able to do what you need," Malusha's words are tentative. While he's confident in his friends' abilities, he's just not sure how they will actually do what Qalkami needs. "You said four hours. Starting when? And also, do you have recommendations for how we could get into Emberhearth?"
Malusha is also perplexed by the statement that the security is mostly off-site but he doesn't want to overwhelm Qalkami with too many questions.
Felicitas smiles and remarks."Well we will find some things to do while we wait."
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Malusha's interjection does seem to calm the efreeti woman somewhat. She retreats from Garmit, not unlike a snake, and smiles his way. Even as she keeps a side eye on the tengu. "Yes, of course, Malusha. I have utmost confidence in your group's abilities."
"Time begins when you leave this building. If the Cinderfurys are as paranoid as I would be, I'm sure they will be watching my movements here in Fommok Madinah. Thus, the movements of those I associate with. Be careful of who follows you.
Moving back to the center of the group, Qalkami lightens. "To your other question, the Cinderfury's maintain a security complex just inside the Common Quarter of the city. The Cinderfury family considers it uncouth to keep more than a handful of guards at each of their estates, but they value having deadly force on call if needed. As I said, deal with them first - and the rest of your mission will be considerably easier.'
She leans back into the couch, asserting her comfort.
“I hope you all understand, the Cinderfurys are poised to collapse sooner or later. If they do so without someone securing those contracts I want, those deals would simply vanish, leaving countless mercenaries and vagabonds unemployed and within reach of innocent civilians. I know your stories and how they cast my kind as villains, but we would not sacrifice society’s well being; we’re not monsters.”
Sensing the questions dying down, Qalkami grows somewhat impatient. "You have your tokens, and the papers to plant, what are you waiting for?"
------------------------------------
As you depart the Chromatic Dragon, a familiar face nearby waves at your group. Guaril Karela stands idly by while directing dockworkers who move crates stamped with the Exchange’s symbol. “Felicitas! Garmit! A moment please…” He yells out, a bit hoarse.
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Garmit eyes Karela warily. It takes one to know one, but he doesn't trust the rogueish man, although in a twisted, somewhat begrudging way has to admit he respects the wily merchant/crook for doing what he does well and getting to where he is now.
"Oh you know, a bit of this and a bit of that. Getting the right incriminating evidence on Qalkami's enemies into the right places so that the right people can see it and do the 'right' things." A few air quotes with his talons provide just the right amount of sarcasm to the tengu's words. "Oh, but if only it was as easy as that. Of course there's the matter of dealing with a security complex full of guards, securing some sensitive contracts and getting our grubby hands on a precious heirloom. I won't lie, it all sounds a bit dodgy but also a whole lot of fun!" The rogueish bird's beady eyes sparkle with mirth at the prospect of what lies ahead. "You got anything extra for us to do on the side? You know, just to keep us out of, or more likely into, trouble?"
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Felicitas and Garmit continue their discusion with Guaril...
"Yeah, we’re already running into issues here because we’re virtual unknowns. It seems that if you’re not made of fire, you have to pay a dozen not-made-of-fire taxes they just make up to vex you. As you can imagine, we need capital to drive our operations here, and I wouldn’t mind if we used some of the nobles’ own wealth to pay their ludicrous fees. What’s more, it would be nice to meet some more reliable contractors than the ones I’ve found so far. Were someone to acquire trade agreements, letters of credit, contracts, and the like, we could cut a lot of overhead.” Guaril leans in. “Honestly, I find myself in short supply of assistants who don’t ignite at inconvenient times, which around here would be ‘always.’ I could settle for a few good leads there.”
Guaril laughs under his breath.
“Yes, this city seems quite the exclusive club; if you were born an efreeti, you win, but if you are anyone else, you suffer. It’s quite the cruel condemnation of honest business people like us, yes? What we need is a local liaison who can open the doors for us while letting us go about our business. Ideally this would be an efreeti, but maybe a less privileged creature would suffice. Shop around, and if you find someone suitably connected, cooperative, and capable, make a pitch.”
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Nestled between two towering spires of bricked brass and filigreed marble in the Common Quarter, the Cinderfury security complex is a squat building that pales in comparison to the other lavish buildings nearby. Only the fiery mosaics etched into the façade of the building distinguish this structure amid the City of Brass’s splendor.
As you approach you can hear muffled shouts in Ignan from inside.
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Garmit relays what he hears from inside, keeping his voice low so as not to be heard from inside. "Sounds like the boss in there is having some morale problems with his troops. Seems to be resortin' to threatening them with nasty stuff just to keep them from runnin' away. Maybe we can use that to our advantage and encourage or help some of the guards to leave of their own accord...rather than stabbin' and slashin' them all, as appealing as that option may sound."