This game is by invite only.
A Pathfinder Society Scenario designed for levels 1–2.
More than 400 years have transpired since the Pathfinder Society began in a humble tavern that has quietly weathered the centuries without incident. When a routine errand there uncovers a clue left behind by one of the founding Pathfinders, it’s up to the PCs to solve a puzzle whose pieces are scattered across Absalom—and whose prize dates back to the Society’s darkest years.
"The Wounded Wisp" is an evergreen, replayable scenario designed to help introduce players to the history of the Pathfinder Society and Absalom’s greatest sites.
Written by Thurston Hillman.
You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission of utmost importance. Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.
Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency. “Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng . He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?” Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.” As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venture captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
“The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
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Standing in the rain is a dwarf in nothing but torn breaches, his rippling muscled body covered in scars and tattoos depicting many ornate dwarven runes that seem to tell tales of the staunch fellows history. One section is scarred more than most, making the tale all but unrecognizable, it almost seems intentional.
His ears, and nose are studded with rings and sharp bone jewelry, while his long red beard has been woven into thick warbraids. On each braid is an ornate clasp or ring. His head is shaved and covered in draconic markings, all that is of course except his giant flame red Mohawk which has been greased with pig fat – in order to stand on end. Over his back is his sole possession, an old beaten dwarven waraxe.
The dwarf frowns and glowers at the venture captain as the rain messes up his crazed hair. ”Ock! Ye wan us ta jist head to a bar and be yer errand boy then? Where be tha glory in that? What fell beast can I face to satisfy mah quest? Wha is this package? I dun li tha idea o holdin things I dunna know about.”
With that the stout fellow spits a thick wad of snot on the ground as if to accentuate his displeasure.
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Lyran looks at his new Dwarven companion again as he takes in some more familiar faces around him. He isn't sure if the Venture captain, the weather or the Dwarf unsettles him the most.
"Good evening Venture Captain. If it is your will that this important package is brought to you then surely it is something of great import to yourself and the Society. I will gladly retrieve the package so you do not have to leave your post." says Lyran with complete sincerity.
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An armored half-elf with hair white from long years, stands tall for his 5 and 3/4 foot almost as if he is actively setting an example for others around him. He has an assortment of weapons attached to his person and the look of a magic caster about him.
Looking the venture captain over and the odd dwarf, Delric wrinkles his nose disagreeably ”Delightful, first we are summoned here in this dreadful weather then sent to a questionable establishment. Well lets get it over."
glancing around as if he misplaced something, "Kim, where did you get too?"
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Snorting the dwarf runs his thick sausage fingers thru his outrageous hair ensuring it stands on end and looks as fierce as possible. With his fingers covered in pig fat he shrugs and rubs it all over his chest and arms..
Looking around at the others that have gathered he bellows ”May ye all find a glorious death in battle, an may yer bloodlines revel at tha deeds!” noting the off reactions of the others he mutters..
”Righ… errand boys… let’s git to it then.. hopefully I dun die to the elf an his dry wit..”
As Hmir walks by he should checks Delric and gives a deep chuckle. ”Come on dainty…”
The venture captain seems to almost chuckle at the dwarf while also ignoring him.
"Tera is it? Before you judge, despite my current attire, I’m still a man of taste. The parcel is actually a special vintage of wine from the cellar of the Wounded Wisp. I’ve been sampling their finer wines in descending order of bottling. I dare not disappear from my current role in this district, but I also would appreciate some comfort items. After all, I doubt anyone would judge a supposed beggar sipping from a bottle of wine.”
"Questionable establishment? For starters, it’s one of the most important establishments in the history of the Society. From those old walls, the first Pathfinders met to discuss their adventures across Golarion. Back then they weren’t even called Pathfinders! Nowadays the bar is almost an official Pathfinder saloon, where agents of all varieties go to meet and share tales.”
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Delric coughs "Dainty? Havn't been called that for six or seven decades. These youngsters those day have odd perceptions. I suppose no one has mistakenly accused you have taking a bath in the last year?"
The old half-elf chuckles, "I'm not sure how being visited frequently by Pathfinders over hundreds of years suddly makes a place respectable. If that's the case then think of all the respectable tombs, ruins, pawn shops and cathouses there are now! Don't worry Master Dreng we will retrieve you fine wine if only so your disguise is complete."
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
The old man simply says "Very good - on your way" and he shuffles off into the cold rain.
The party makes their way to the Foreign Quarter district...
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior of the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. In the hours just before dawn, the building closes long enough for menials to clean and to give staff a rest. The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance.
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One the way to the Wounded Wisp tavern, Delric shares the gossip he's heard, "They say the original members of the pathfinder society frequented the bar before they formed the society. Over the year's it been a place for pathfinders to share stories, boast about adventures. Many a report that ended up in the pathfinder chronicles where written over an ale or two there. Most of the famous Pathfinders have stopped by for a drink as they relaxed in Absalom. Ever hear of Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey? We'll neither have I, but I'm told they are famous pathfinders. The tavern owners and pathfinders have always had a good relationship, but nothing official. Ah there it is now a classic dive tavern, but I think it is a motif they cultivate. Let's get in out the rain."
Delric goes to the door to see if the Wounded Wisp is open.
The party steps out of the rain into the entry hall.. This long wooden hallway is the entrance to the Wounded Wisp, heading north into the building itself. The walls are covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar.
They pass the coat closet into the main hall... Tables fill the main floor of the Wounded Wisp where patrons sit with colleagues and share stories over drinks. Three sets of stairs lead up to a raised dining area
The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink.
An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
The party immediately recognizes Janira Gavis... and can hear her telling a tale of Durvin Gest and the fabled Lens of Galundari to a group of new Pathfinders.
While there are many patrons, several stand out... a pair of half-orc pathfinders drinking and acting rowdy.
A quiet human in the corner with an over sized book and flagon of ale.
A male human inquisitor of Sarenrae sitting with Kyra and a couple other Pathfinders, discussing the matters of faith vs duty.
And behind the bar, a woman who seems to be managing the bar stool patrons, directing the staff and making all the drinks at the same time.
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Hmir takes in the scene of the bar, taking note of the half-bloods and their antics.
Hope them half-blood cauz som trouble. It would be a bit of fun ta knock tha orc outta em. Nah really a great deed, but twould loosen mah back a bit… git tha blood flowin thinks the dwarf to himself.
Stumping up to a stool the barbarian “belly’s up the bar” and calls out to the barkeep. Heryn Gale it is? Might I git an ale from ye lass? Sumthin dwarven if’in ye can.. definitely nothin wit a greenskin tint ta it.”
When she delivers the beverage the tattoo’d wild-haired dwarf leans in and mutters. ”Lass, a Mr. Dreng has sent us ere ta pick up a parcel. Could ye help us out?”
With that Hmir lays the coins to pay for his drink on the table and puts another in her hand for the service.
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"This place looks even better than i was expecting. You can almost smell the years of visiting adventurers here, and i think for the last few weeks that is literally the case." says Lyran as he waves at Janira to try to get her attention mid story.
He heads to the bar and stands near Hmir while he orders a drink. He adds on at the end of his order "And if you have a drink that does not contain alcohol for me that would be wonderful. I do not wish to start drinking while i have a task to complete."
Hmir talks nice to the woman in charge "I'm a bit busy at the moment. here's your ale and i will be with you when i can."
She serves you drinks and continues to scramble around making many beverages for the other patrons.
Janira smiles and waves exaggeratedly to Lyran while continuing her story... seemingly near the end.
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"Hmph.. well more tha most women say ta me I reckon."
Hmir takes his ale, and hops down off his stool with a heavy thud, yet being careful not to spill a single drop of the foamy beverage.
Looking over the tavern and his options he muses.
Bookworm, human priest,drunk half breeds..
The dwarf walks over to the half orcs with a sigh. "What's on then muddy?" he comments with a deep dwarven accent while taking a long pull off his ale. With a snort and a long wipe of his forearm over his beard to curb the foam - Hmir looks on with a somewhat unsettling smile.
The half-orcs welcome Hmir with a hard slap on the back. "Join us dwarf! The name's Garl! Any Pathfinder with an axe like that is welcome at our table! Waitress! another round!"
The other half-orc downs her beer "The name's Shrade, and there's nothing an axe can't fix!"
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Tera looks about the room as she enters. "This is amazing. What interesting people. She notices the man reading the book, and Janira. She waves to her. On the way to the bar she hears the Inquisitor talking about faith vs. duty. She turns to the group on the way by.
"Sometimes you don't have a choice between faith and duty. Sometimes you are just chosen by the gods. You are given a great blessing, but also a great curse. It's not duty you choose nor is it based on your faith. It just is, and you have to deal with it." She nods to an empty chair. "May I sit down? I find this discussion interesting."
Janira finishes her story with her usual flourish before sending the confirmants on their way.
"It is so good to see you two - how have the missions been treating you?"
The Inquisitor of Sarenrae bids you welcome. "I am Aram bin Kaleel. Please feel free to join us. I agree that the gods just choose our path for us - and it is up to us to follow it. These young pathfinders.. this new age of adventurers forget that." The man takes a small drink before continuing.
"You are new around here - I run Kaleel's Curiosities in the Coins. Semi-retired from adventuring, i try to impart my knowledge on these fresh faces... try to remind them A Pathfinder should stand on his own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed."
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"I have not been anywhere else since our trip to the mountains. I took some time away from missions to think over the events there. For now i'm just trying to keep busy while i decide my future with the Pathfinders." he says with a slight look of sadness.
"Anyway, enough about me. I see you've found an audience for another of your amazing tales. What adventure were you retelling this time?"
"Let me pose a question to you - how would you handle a swarm of army ants? How about a confusion spell?"
"fetch and delivery - how exciting! I am really soryr to hear about your confusion over the society Lyran - it is always hard after an ally is etched on the wall of names... But to give up is to allow their sacrifice to be in vain..."
The always cheerful halfling has a sad look on her face for a brief moment... "But enough grief. Let me know if i can assist with your mission! I always am happy to spare a cure spell for fellow agents."
"Ain't that the truth! Ain't no mission currently need skulls a'crackin. But ya never know when someone needs a bit 'o help like dat."
The man looks up from his book. "Well miss - this here is a doctrine on military manuevers used to basalt absalom from the sea. Darn near successful if you ask me. The name's Yargos Gill - military historian with the Arcanamirium. What about you pathfinder? What books do you read"
"Fire is the preferred method for many a swarm.. unless it is demonic and has resistance to fire... A well placed Unbreakable Heart spell can avert those negative consequences of Confusion.
It sounds like you have a good head on your shoulders."
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"Thank you for your complement. Those are kind words. I appreciate your advice, and I'll tuck that information away. I have been sent on a mission. It's just a fetch mission, but you never know when something simple will go sideways." She rises from her chair and heads to the bar to find out where she might find the package.
After a short while, Heryn Gale is replaced at the bar and escorts you all to the cellars below.
"Be warned - the cracks in the floor are treacherous. I'll eventually replace this plank..."
A set of wooden stairs descends from the main floor into this tightly packed storeroom. Barrels, boxes, and crates of assorted foodstuffs and drink garnishes are pushed against the walls or under the stairs.
Heryn Gale carefully walks across the plank slowly before continuing through the next door. The plank has seen years of neglect with a 10 foot deep chasm below.
Andrew Torgerud
Delric Proudmane
GM Glyn
Hmir Stonegrudge
Tera Fosham