Something brought each of you to seek out the Pathfinder Society here in the City at the Center of the World be it your history, your life, your journey, or your destiny... Whatever the reason, you all found your way to Absalom and the Society. What seemed like a whirlwind basic training was over before you could blink, and when you opened your eyes... You were standing before the Skyreach, preparing to receive your very first assignment from none other than Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin.
Each of you is directed into the Venture-Captain's office where you find seven seats arranged in a crescent around Ambrus' desk. The Venture-Captain greets each of you with a curt nod and a gesture to have a seat in one of the arranged chairs. He says no words and even seems to ignore those seated in his office, directing his attention to the piles of parchment arraigned neatly around the desk. When the last of the new recruits is finally seated he looks up at each of you, gazing at you for a moment as if to gauge your worth. Suddenly he begins...
"All right, Pathfinders! Listen up. I know you are new recruits eager to make names for yourselves in the organization, but first we need to make sure you are up to snuff and won’t get yourself killed out there. I have a number of small assignments for you and your team, and it would be best if you could finish them before the day’s end.
Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some sniveling bootlicker willing to do anything to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It’s rough out there and I’m not just talking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness Pathfinders find themselves in on missions. We’ve got people who look down their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we have collected. This wealth of knowledge and these items of lore make us the most powerful organization on the planet. That said, since we are fractured and widespread, it’s difficult for that power to light on anything for too long. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies.
Your first mission, to test your mettle and loyalties, sends you to meet a few people important to the Society living here in Absalom. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organization, so follow their orders as you would mine. I’ve prepared a list of things I want you to do. They’re not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. Only report to me once you complete them all. Included in the envelope you hold in your hands is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location."
He then places a sealed envelope on the top of his desk, clearly waiting for one of you to take it. Inside the envelope is the list.
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Juhnavi takes initiative and steps up to take the envelope. This young woman is clearly from Vudra, with the characteristic dark tan skin and dark, smooth hair common to that nation, as well as henna decorating her hands and face. Unusually, she wears clothes with a Varisian theme to them, carries a starknife and a harrow deck, and was offering to perform a harrowing for the others before being ushered into the Venture-captain's office. The amulet of Irori around her neck adds to these unusual accoutrements.
The finely-made starknife makes swift work of the envelope's seal, and she reads the list, making it available for everyone to read. "The Salhar ancestral vaults?! What an opportunity!"
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Neseth is a good looking Undine. Although he is a Cleric, he is a spell caster first and foremost. His holy symbol is actually seven pieces of cloth, each a different color, tied together in a circle. His only weapon is a scarf. He prefers to use his magic to speak for him.
I suppose it is as good a place to start as any. I am Neseth. He takes a bow and looks at the others expectantly.
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I was hoping for something that would bring more glory, though I probably should't say that out loud in front of the captain here. He seems less than impressed with such motivations, though not all humans are that way.
"Your servant, "Syllyn says as he bows, displaying his brilliant red crest to its full advantage. The scaly fellow is decked out in furs, feathers, and all manner of gaudy baubles and wears an extra layer of scales in the form of scale mail. He observes his fellow pathfinders with approval for the diversity, though from the looks of their clothing he does not expect much in the way of talent.
Indeed! A Wayang and an Undine! Hopefully they will provide many interesting stories I can use to impress the clan with.
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It doesn't seem to be here...keep looking...
A tall, lithe sylph with a pole arm and light armor looks around incessantly. If ever someone seemed distracted and desirous of moving on, it is she.
"Very well," she says quickly. "We'll get it done...let's go already!" she says kindly, though impatiently.
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As Rerois reads the list, his shoulders slump slightly. This is a list of tasks you'd send an errand boy on. Then he saw the last item on the list. Lady Dralneen! Maybe there's some worthy errands after all!
The cavalier smooths his red and black uniform jacket and looks at the others. "So how should we proceed? I am most eager to meet Lady Dralneen, myself."
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"As long as we get to them all, it doesn't matter much, but I'd be inclined to go to Dremdhet Salhar first."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Syllyn is obviously getting restless. His attention is constantly moving towards the exit and his body starts to jerk in that direction.
"Well, the most passionate opinion is for Lady Dralneen so lets start the hunt there."
At first perplexed at his use of the word 'hunt' you quickly realize that it must be some form of euphemism in his culture.
With the decision made to proceed to Paracountess Dralneen's home first, the newly minted recruits gather up their belongings and prepare to head out into Absalom. Just before they leave the Venture-Captain's office he looks at them once more. "Do not embarrass me recruits." He then dismisses them to go about their list.
Finding their way through Absalom is easy enough for the recruits, if time consuming. Eventually they come upon a magnificent gothic structure three stories high. Each corner of the sloped rooftop is decorated with sharp spikes and hellish-looking gargoyles that grasp the spikes with their clawed hands. A closer inspection looks as if the gargoyles' tongues are wrapped around the spikes in a very lurid and disquieting display...
Large ebon lacquered double doors wrought with gleaming silver fixtures greet the characters, 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 the Pathfinders as if expected. "Ah, the Pathfinders. Follow me."
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Syllyn taps out a complex rhythm on various parts of his clothing, armor, and shield to while away the time as they travel. Some of the beads make chime like sounds pleasing to the ears. When he sees the door chime he rushes forward to do the honors and sounds a nice rat-a-tat on the door before sounding the chime, holding back after the others enter to give the chime a closer examination and satisfy his musical curiosity.
The servant quietly leads you through well-appointed sitting rooms, ballrooms, and a grand stairway granting a view of an elaborate study. Eventually 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. Seated in the chair behind the desk sits Paracountess Zarta Dralneen, who regards you all with a sly smile as she puts away a few papers before standing and addressing you all.
"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 freshfaced 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 at Sune and wrinkles her nose before continuing. "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." She bites her lip as she gazes directly into Rerois' eyes with a carnal, lascivious smile.
Suddenly a cacophony of crashes and bangs echos loudly from behind the nearby set of double-doors, causing Zarta to sigh. "A servant is greatly misbehaving. You're going to have to deal with it in order to get the trinket. But first... I believe a little introduction is in order. Many of you are already aware of me, but perhaps you do not know my position in the Society."
"You may be aware that Cheliax and I have recently had a... lets call it a difference of opinion. Despite the rift it created, I still maintain a position of influence here in Absalom." She smiles again. "As you may know, the Society and I have maintained a somewhat distant relationship based on… mutual respect. On occasion, we offer each other support, but it’s always an exchange of favors. Recently, I have offered to assist the Society in a more permanent capacity. Needless to say, the leaders were both intrigued and skeptical. Their responses speak to their wisdom.
I trust you are familiar with the Vaults, yes? There must be dozens of them scattered throughout the Grand Lodge. Being constant collectors, the Society occasionally recovers an artifact that possesses powers that they believe too dangerous or destructive for mortals. For such items, they have designed a special section within the Vaults that they inspect only infrequently. But as I have informed them, some evils only become more dangerous if left to decay in the dark. As this collection of forgotten treasures grows, it poses an ever increasing risk that requires increased… supervision.
"It appears the Decemvirate has come to understand these truths as I do, and I have a standing offer to catalogue and maintain these dangerous relics so long as I and several of my agents can complete several tests to the Ten’s satisfaction."
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"You must learn patience, my wind-blown friend. Speeding out the door without knowing all there is to know is a sure way to a difficult time ahead. That said, I believe we have the information we require. Good day, my lady." Golangar bows deeply to Zarta. "We will go to these vaults and catalogue whatever is found there. Thank you."
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Suddenly a cacophony of crashes and bangs echos loudly from behind the nearby set of double-doors, causing Zarta to sigh. "A servant is greatly misbehaving. You're going to have to deal with it in order to get the trinket....
"I don't understand. You want us to beat your servant for you before you will give us the item?"
Zarta raises her eyebrow at Sune's impatience, a slight frown forming upon her red-painted lips. "Now, young lady. This [b]is my home, pray do not forget that. And you do not even know what it is I'm asking you to retrieve."[/b] She rolls her eyes with a sigh and strolls over towards her desk. "I suppose it does not really matter." She plucks up a exquisite silver letter opener and offers it to the group. "You may need this to get it to submit." She offers with a sly grin.
She suddenly turns and looks at Syllyn with lilting laughter. "Oh no, my dear Nagaji. You do not need to beat the servant. You can handle it however you prefer, but it has the item you seek. So, please be a lamb and retrieve it for me?" She puckers her lips into a faux pout and bats her eyelashes at Syllyn.
Zarta looks at Golangar. "Yes, dear, in my bedroom in fact." She smiles and winks. "Now don't blush, I expect those interested in joining me in the Dark Archives to be less shy."
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She suddenly turns and looks at Syllyn with lilting laughter. "Oh no, my dear Nagaji. You do not need to beat the servant. You can handle it however you prefer, but it has the item you seek. So, please be a lamb and retrieve it for me?" She puckers her lips into a faux pout and bats her eyelashes at Syllyn.
Why is she doing that with her eyes? Is that some sort of Dark Archive secret sign, Syllyn wonders. "Of course we will retrieve it for you," flutter, flutter, bat, bat. There. That should do it. Now she will know I am a member of the Dark Archives!
Zarta grins at Golangar's cheekiness, but answers Rerois at the same moment that Sune boldly opens the doors. "Yes." She answers the cavalier very matter-of-factly.
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.
Near the far corner of the bedroom is an imp growling in frustration and slamming a box onto the floor over and over again, completely oblivious to the open doors.
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"Rest assured, this imp will be corrected, milady." Rerois strides into the bedroom and gazes down at the imp as if it were a misbehaving child. "Fiend, your mistress is disappointed in you. You have damaged her chambers and taken things which do not belong to you. You will listen to those of Cheliax, or your enjoyment in this realm will be severely curtailed. Lady Dralneen will send you to the Hellknights if this continues, do you understand?"
The imp doesn't even acknowledge Rerois until the large man is suddenly standing over it and making threats... which seem to leave an impression upon the little devil. It narrows it's eyes at Rerois and lowers its arm, still clutching the magical box in a clawed hand. "You have my attention human." He looks around Rerois towards his companions in the next room. "What do you want?"
As Rerois looks back to Zarta, she smiles that predatory smile of hers. "Yes." The imp takes advantage of the distraction and looks at Juhnavi. "I want what's in this box, Vudrani. What do you want?"