Ever since the tragedy at Delvehaven decades ago, the infernal empire Cheliax has rarely allowed Pathfinders to explore its many ruins and archaeological treasures—even then only after its recently disenfranchised liaison Zarta Dralneen fought for that privilege. Cheliax has once again extended its hand to the Society, inviting its agents to investigate an abandoned keep that dates back to the Chelish civil war. It's up to the PCs to navigate the Corentyn's streets and politics as they uncover the buried past and lay the foundation for a new partnership with a one-time foe.
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A small blonde boy runs around with his friends chasing a kickball around in the grass. It quickly becomes obvious that he's the king of the kickball field as he races around the bases, ducking and dodging the ball as they sling it at his head. "Woah close one Stevie! Maybe some day you'll learn some aim! HA!" He slides into third with a triple, standing up and giving the red haired kid the raspberry he deserves.
"I wasn't lying! I'm heading to somewheres in Cheliax with Mom! Big trip, lots of fun adventure and I heard they've got this awesome new candy there... its like those gummie bears but instead of bears they are winged devil things.. and as big around as that ball!" He insists, pointing at the ball Stevie finally retrieved from the bushes.
"Come on now guys, pitch that thing so I can score already!"
Well, there she is, just lying at a base of a tree.
A pile of logs and animal fur lie nearby a tree next to the grassy field Frankie plays in. Three rosebuds lie on top of the fur.
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Frankie sees a familiar face waving at him "Is that you Meredith?" He takes a few steps off the base to get a better view, almost immediately the kickball flies in his direction, catching him upside the head with a rubber 'slap' sound.
Frankie slowly turns and scowls at Stevie "Ah come on now Stevie, that wasn't fair! Ya I KNOW I didn't call time out. FINE! I've gotta go anyhow."
Frankie scampers over towards Meredith as he rubs the red side of his face
He completely ignores the pile of leaves and fur as he makes his way over under the shade trees. "Hey Meredith! You're back in town! How's things been? Go anywhere exciting? Where's Zav? Where's Denair? Where's everyone else?"
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"Denair's around here somewhere, trust me. Zavubak, I haven't seen him in a while. You know the life of a Pathfinder. They send you everywhere." She bends down to give him a hug.
...only for Denair to join the hug pile.
"Denair, jeez!" Meredith releases Frankie and hops back, startled. "Don't do that. I told you to keep quiet, anyway. You know how excited kids are when they see you." Meredith catches her breath.
Denair has been watching these kids play with the ball for some time. Are they trying to avoid it, or hit each other, or kick... she's never understood the rules.
Oh, but here's Frankie! And the boss is hugging both! Denair springs up and joins the hug pile, extending her limbs around them both. She stops as soon as the boss leaps back.
"Oh. Sorry. I thought you meant the other kids." Denair chuckles. "Hi Frankie! Have you been a good boy?" Her leafy tongue hangs out of her mouth briefly.
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Frankie hops back and takes a defensive position out of reflex "Woah, where'd you come from? Still super sneaky I see!" He giggles and swats at Denair before giving both of them hugs.
Seeing that leafy tongue hang out Frankie makes a quick grab for it "You've got such a neat tongue, I just wanna grab it like a kitten's tongue!" He giggles as he snatches it between his thumb and forefinger.
"Mmmph! Mah ugnh is hihy! Heehee!" Denair keeps her mouth open until Frankie releases it. Her tongue leaves a residue of mostly tree sap on Frankie's hand.
"Oh, sorry! At least it smells nice."
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A tall, plain-looking man - well, plain other than his bright, blue flesh - walks by to notice Frankie with Denair's tongue in between his fingers. He's dressed in a plain blue tunic, black pants, and brown hiking boots, lacking any jewelry or scars save for a tattoo of a elaborate-looking sun on his shoulder.
"Ah, now there's something you don't see every day," he smiles, his voice warm and welcoming. You notice a katana with a red hilt hanging from his side. "I'd been told to meet some Pathfinders here. I'm freshly minted, you see, and need someone to show me the ropes. But it appears we've got a fey and a... Child here. Are you their owner and mother, respectively, of course, madame?" He looks to Meredith for an answer.
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Little Frankie lets the sticky tongue slide through his fingers, which he promptly smells then licks "Woah it is sweet! Kinda like maple syrup! Sorta..." He wipes his hand on his shirt, holding it out to shake with the new blue guy.
He looks back at Meredith, then at Brayden, then back at Meredith before proposing the question that formed up in his little blonde head "My Mom always told me the first question to ask a nice man: Are YOU my Daddy?" He looks up at the guy with questioning, sincere blue eyes that go back and forth between he and Meredith.
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The ball comes sailing over just as Dalen, who'd decided that Brayden must be going where she needed to be, walks through the gate. It spins between her legs, tripping her and she lands face first on the ground.
"Ooooowie," she moans looks up with one hand tenderly protecting her nose as tears well up in her eyes.
"Uh, hello. Are you Path... finders..." she asks, her voice trailing off as she sees the young boy.
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Brayden holds his palms up, pleading with Meredith. "Forgive me, madame, I did not mean to be presumptuous. I'm Brayden, hailing from Tian Xia. Or from Magnimar, as my dreams sometimes tell me." He smiles.
Turning to Frankie, Brayden laughs as he returns the sticky handshake. "Who knows? Maybe I was your father in another lifetime. Our kind do have something of a mysterious past." His opaque eyes are either creepy or exotic depending on who you ask. "What brings you here on this fine day? I'm soon to be a Pathfinder, miss, though I narrowly avoided joining Janira Garvix on a mission involving a nasty minotaur," he answers Dalen.
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"No, it's fine. Just wasn't expecting something to come out and trip me up," she says as she climbs to her feet with Meredith's help.
"I was told that they needed me to head to Cheliax, so here I am," she says before giving the three of them a deep, flamboyant bow.
"Dalen Stonestep, at your service," she says with a twinkle in her eyes.
Dalen is a boy's name from Taldor, and from her accent, she's Taldane.
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A samsaran gentleman approaches the gathered Pathfinders, shocked as much to see a fellow samsaran as to observe the little boy playing kickball with his governess.
The man pulls up, wipes the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his white robes, and places his hands on his hips, chest heaving from the physical exertion. After he catches his breath, he gives a slight bow, hands pressed together, palms touching and fingers pointing to the heavens. "Namaskar."
He straightens up and regards you with all-white eyes. "My name is Lazarus Logos, conjurer and priest of the Mother Moon, Desna."
Lazarus offers a serene smile and an apology, "Please excuse my tardiness. Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch had some of us handling the acquisition of a Thassilonian artifact known as the Runecarved Key. As soon as I could accomplish that mission, I set off to join you here."
Lazarus Logos is a samsaran conjurer and priest of Desna, with countless mystic past lives. He travels the world, studying the heavens and ancient civilizations, ever in pursuit of old knowledge and new experiences.
He's six feet tall and weighs just over eleven stone. He wears white robes with black trim and a silk cap, highlighted by varied decorative elements in keeping with a devotee of the Song of Spheres. His forearm bears a blue and white tattoo depicting the holy symbol of Desna, the butterfly, stylized to resemble her herald, the Night Monarch.
His familiar is a white rabbit named Sid.
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A particularly tall and muscular half-elf walks toward the group of Pathfinders. His hair is shoulder-length, slightly wavy and white, a color they share with his eyes, seemingly devoid of pupils and irises but in truth of a gray so light that is hardly perceivable. Together with his pale skin, these traits hint at Sǣran’s remote drow heritage. He wears dark-blue clothes including a short cloak, a studded V-necked shirt which reveals part of his torso and of his arms, leather gloves and blue pants. Most of the vulnerable parts of his body are further protected by studded leather insert, them too painted dark blue. Sǣran carries a bastard sword tied diagonally behind his minimal backpack, a warhammer tied to a steel ring on his right hip and a short sword covered by its scabbard on the opposite side. A few small pouches, a weathered waterskin and five exotic chakrams are fixed to his leather belt.
In general, Sǣran’s physical appearance is that of a young half-elf with some uncommon, drowish features. His face has delicate features, but his eyes are perhaps too inquisitive and eager to be defined as beautiful. His body is strong and athletic, but also graceful in his proportions and suggesting a certain agility despite the muscles.
He walks with confidence, and his presence can be quite intimidating at first. Sǣran is not easy to decipher at a first glance, and his physical appearance hides well the many secrets of his personality and personal background.
***
Sǣran seems to be slightly disturbed by the light. As a result, he places himself under the shadow of a nearby tree.
The half-elf smiles undecipherably, his eyes equally distributing their attention among all Pathfinders.
"Good morning. My name is Sǣran. This is going to be my first field assignment, so I ask your forgivness for any lack of etiquette..."
Sǣran sighs, then shrugs. "So, what are we supposed to do here? Get to know each other?"
"Hi Sǣran! Hi Dalen! Hi Lazarus! ...hi Sid."
Denair runs up to shake/bow/greet her new friends. She also peers at Sid, wondering what a rabbit would do when confronted by a tree/fox hybrid.
"Don't worry, I don't eat bunnies."
"I'm Denair, and this is my boss Meredith. Oh and here's Frankie, too! We're Pathfinders!"
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Frankie starts to get a bit excited, seeing so many Pathfinders gathered together out on the grass. He hollers over to the other kids and waves goodbye "I TOLD you I'm going on a trip, didn't believe me did you! HA!" He waves them off dismissively with a smirk on his face.
"Wow, so we are all going on this trip together, its gonna be so much fun! Its been a while now since my last great adventure, we went to this place called.. umm.. the Plane of Earth? We got to play soldier for a week." He scratches the side of his face a bit where the ball left a darkening whelt "It was pretty boring for a while, they had the WORST obstacle course. So boring."
As he stands there talking his eyes continually get drawn to most of the newcomers eyes "You guys's eyes look funny, where's the middle part? Why is your skin blue? Why is YOUR hair white? Why do people keep looking at me funny?" He puffs his little chest out and puts his hands on his hips "I've been on LOTS of missions, just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I can't be a Pathfinder too!" He folds his arms in defiance across his chest as his eyes start to wander looking for this Sid...
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"As far as my hair is concerned, in almost all humanoid races the pigmentation of the hair depends on one's own ancestry. In my case, it seems like someone in my family tree had white hair, and not only as a sign of his or her aging," calmly explains Sǣran.
This kid has visited the Plane of Earth, if he tells the truth. Strange as it may seem, I am inclined to believe him. The Pathfinder Society surely does offer interesting opportunities, hm?
"Is anyone else beginning his first mission for the Society? And does someone have any detail on our assignment?," asks the half-elf after a while.
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Frankie nods a bit as Saeran explains his white hair "Ya you don't look too old. Your skin isn't all wrinkly and muscles all droopy." He walks over and gives the man's leg a poke to see how soft it is.
Frankie gives him a puzzled look "Where's your bow? Don't Elves all have bows?" He looks around him, reaching out to touch the different weapons and arms attached. He reaches into his own pocket and pulls out a half eaten sandwich and takes a bite, returning the rest back to the pocket.
"Don't worry guys and girls, if you need any help or have any questions, be sure to ask me and I'll be glad to help!" He cracks his knuckles and laughs before quickly adding "OH! And if we need to sweet talk any old ladies then leave that to me, its my specialty. I love old ladies!"
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The child must be in therapy, poor thing.
"We'll be sure to leave all the old ladies to you, Frankie." Lazarus smiles at the boy's antics.
The samsaran turns to the half-elf magus, "Sǣran Imledrith, the Venture-Captain should be along shortly to brief us on our mission. She's a number of missions underway at present. All will be revealed in the fullness of time."
Sid pokes his head out of the wizard-priest's robes, long white ears unfolding like a pair of wings, pretty pink eyes flashing beneath long lashes. *Who the BLEEP is this BLEEPIN' kid? Take yer BLEEPIN' methylphenidate, ya little yard ape!*
Lazarus frowns at his potty-mouthed familiar, grateful no one understands the rabbit. *Sid, mind your manners, please.*
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"OOooo nice bunny Lazarus!" Frankie reaches out to try to pet the bun bun, quickly pulling back his hand as the thing nips at his finger. "Those aren't carrots you silly thing!" He laughs as he reaches in yet again for another attempted petting.
After a few repeated attempts at petting and avoiding having his fingers chewed on, Frankie finally gives up on the bunny and turns his attention to Dalen. "Oh, see SHE has a bow! And arrows!" He quickly points to the longbow on her back. "So what do you do Dalen? Shoot mean people with your bow? Are you crazy good with it? Can you shoot apples off people's heads from across town? Can you climb trees and swing through the branches while you shoot at the same time?" You get the sneaking suspicious Frankie has heard too many old Elf tales of ridiculous feats of agility and marksmanship.
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"It's not like she's going to surf on her shield while shooting, Frankie..." Meredith chuckles.
"Frankie and I have been on a few missions across Golarion. Honestly it will be my first time in Chileax. Denair wants to see the trees and animals native to that region, of course."
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"Not all elves use bows, kid. Universal statements are rarely true indeed," explains Saeran with a calm tone.
Saeran then turns to Lazarus. "I see. Thank you"
After a short pause, Saeran looks at Lazarus again. "What is the bond between you and...Sid, if I may ask? It sparks my curiosity indeed..." asks the half-elf with a genuine half-smile.
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Lazarus looks down at the rabbit poking out of his robes. "Sid is my arcane familiar. The Tender of Dreams brought us together."
Sid twitches his nose and whiskers, indignant. *What kind of bond did you think it was, ya BLEEPIN' perv! Not romantic, that's for BLEEPIN' sure.*
The samsaran coughs, embarrassed, and strokes the rabbit's back, trying to calm the cantankerous magical beast.
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Brayden looks at the rabbit with intrigue. "Quite the contrast to his handler, isn't he?" He smiles at Lazarus.
"I know you refer to Desna, but dreams are what guide us, aren't they? I came to Absalom on more than a hunch. A feeling that there was some unfinished business. No, it was more than that," he pauses, taking a seat on the grass next to a tree. "It is as if every fibre of myself calls to another time, but I cannot place what, or where it is, or was." He realizes he's getting cryptic, and throws an arm behind his head. "I apologize for my pontificating. It especially must bore someone as young as him," he stands and ruffles up Frankie's hair.
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"Brayden Valdrin, you refer to our mystic past lives, no?"
Lazarus takes a seat next to the warpriest, adopting a lotus position, more from habit than from pretense.
"I, too, seek to unlock the many mysteries my soul has witnessed. Service to the ancient goddess of freedom and fortune, travel to ancient sites, and study of our world's lore is the path I've chosen."
He pauses, lost in contemplation. When he returns from his revery, his gaze falls on the warpriest's holy symbol, a katana in front of the sun. "Service to the Empress of Heaven is fitting for one of our kind, linked as we are to our ancestors. I wish you success in your own journey."
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Saeran reacts with a smile to the vulgar outburst of Lazarus's familiar. The half-elf chuckles, amused by the contrast between the familiar itself and its master.
"I see. No need to get mad at me, Sid."
Saeran then nods to Brayden when he remarks the contract between Lazarus and Sid.
"So you are both samsarans," remarks the half-elf with a contemplative gaze. "That's quite a coincidence, isn't it? I thought your kind was pretty rare these days...Interesting."
***
After giving the others more time to interact, Saeran speaks again. This time, he addresses everyone in the party.
"So we are going on a mission together. It would be useful to know beforehand what each of us can do, don't you think? You know, our areas of expertise if I may speak this way."
Saeran draws his bastard sword for the others to see with a fluid gesture. "I train hard everyday to perfect my swordmastery," he explains before putting the sword back into its scabbard hanging behind his back. Then, he puts his backpack on the ground and pulls out a spellbook from it. "I also invest a lot of time in the study of arcane magic. I'm still a dilettante, however. I only know a few offensive spells."
After putting his spellbook back into the backpack, Saeran leans against the tree and shrugs. "Outside combat, I am able to see in the dark, have keen senses, and I'm good at jumping and climbing.
I'm also a dabbler in alchemy."
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Frankie's eyes glaze over for a bit as the two boring holy men start going off on this and that. After a minute or two his interest finally is stirred as the Elf with no bow asks what he's good at.
"Me? I'm good at lots of things! I'm an expert kickball player, you just saw that!" He rubs the welt on his face and scowls a bit before quickly picking back up "I can probably eat cake and cookies faster than any of you old people can... old ladies love me! I've got a great smile!" He smiles and winks at Meredith to show off his charm.
He throws off his backpack and pulls out a board game, a deck of cards and a bag of marbles "I'm pretty good at games! Oh! And I'm an expect swordsman too!" He drops the games and pulls out a small wooden axe from his back and begins to pretend to chop down Denair with it. "HIYAHHHH!" He roars as he starts to limb the ancient tree beast!
"Haha! I've missed this!"
Denair, also kind of bored by the samsaran religious talk, runs around the park, staying relatively close to Meredith. Finally she scampers right up a tree, almost as naturally as you would walk.
She giggles, sees if Frankie will follow her. When it's clear he won't, or he manages to climb all the way up, Denair hangs off of a branch and lowers herself down. You notice that her arms grow dramatically as she hangs off the tree.
"Frankie and I are really good at hide and go seek. Especially the hiding part!"
Denair closes her eyes, tucks in her head and curls up prone.
She looks like a pile of wood from here.
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Meredith watches Denair and Frankie play for a bit. A smile comes across her face, briefly. Sǣran's question gets her attention for a moment.
"Denair and I fight together and prefer flanking tactics. You probably noticed her long arms. I have magic for a similar effect, plus I have my longspear. I can kind of talk to people, but Denair is a much better lie detector than me."
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"Sǣran Imledrith, I am an arcane and divine conjurer, summoning celestial creatures to aid us when we need it. I can call upon Desna's blessing before battle and provide healing, ideally after a fight."
Eyeing the swords of the magus and the warpriest and the summoner's longspear, Lazarus adds, "I will endeavor to remain behind your blades, not in front of them."
The samsaran watches the little boy climbing the tree. Hide and seek. Okay.
Burrowing into the wizard-priest's robes, Sid makes himself comfortable. *Hide and seek, my fluffy tail! Bet my two front BLEEPIN' teeth, he hides at the first sign of real trouble and seeks the nearest BLEEPIN' exit!*
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Frankie slowly tries to climb the tree but its quickly obvious that he prefers his games and activities to be firmly planted on ground level.
After looking around for Denair Frankie quickly gives up and runs off to hide himself "MY TURN DENAIR! Come find me!" He screams as he runs off into the bushes.
As eidolon and 'child' play a rousing game of hide-and-seek and the rest of you converse quietly about strengths, weaknesses, and past lives, all of you suddenly hear the faint sound of trumpets that can only be coming from the nearby Grand Lodge - headquarters of the Pathfinder Society here in Absalom. Each of you remember that there's to be a grand announcement - about what, you can only speculate. But judging by the sound of the trumpets, it's very nearly time to find out!
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"Ready or not, here I come!"
Denair begins to sneak around, looking for Frankie.
"Is he... here? No wait... I bet he's hidden under some... LEAVES!"
Denair blows back a pile of leaves, only to discover a lack of children.
"Wow...I don't know where he went... Boss, did you see-"
She turns around, only to see Meredith heading towards the Grand Lodge.
"Oh uh... wait for me, Boss!"
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Dalen takes a step back and appears to panic a little as Li'l Frankie begins his rapidfire questions. As other conversations distract the young boy, she breaths a sigh of relief.
I hope to the gods he doesn't think I can do all of that!
As they move to the Grand Lodge, Dalen pats the sword on her hip.
"My aunt and uncle raised me and taught me how to fight. I can shot a bow and use a sword. I'm also a fair tracker. I learned to hunt in the Borderwood in Taldor. Also learned how to fight things that forget they're dead," she says with haunted look in her eyes. She shakes her head and smiles again as she brings herself out of those memories. "And if you're interested, Frankie, I can teach you some tricks I learned from my uncle."
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Frankie stops short as he hears the offer "What sorta tricks we talking about here?" He looks up at Dalen, the mischievous swirl in his eyes can't be missed. Elvish tricks! Oooo boy I bet they work great on Dwarves!
"So... these tricks... tell me more..." Frankie stays close to Dalen, almost too close... as he waits to be taught these tricks.
Tabling the games and trick-teaching for a later time, all of you make your way back onto the grounds of the Grand Lodge and over to the sprawling south lawn where numerous other Pathfinder agents have gathered in front of a large stage. After a few moments, a hush falls over the crowd as three individuals walk into the stage - Master of Swords Marcos Farabellus, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen - head of the Dark Archive, and a stern-looking woman that none of you recognize. It is she that steps forward to address the assembled Pathfinders, giving a small nod to Farabellus as she does.
"I am Ianareth Alazario, and I come to you with words spoken by her Infernal Magistrix, Queen Abrogail II of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune." Her voice is strong, ringing out as a bell might. She smiles. "Pathfinders, your exile is at an end. Cheliax welcomes you once again!"
This announcement is accompanied by many a startled gasp from within the crowd, followed by the sudden and sharp sound of applause - led by Farabellus himself. "Huzzah!" he bellows, wearing a smile a mile wide. "Here's to the mending of rifts - new and old!" For her part, Ianareth's smile is nearly as wide as Farabellus' - though those with sharp eyes might notice it falter slightly as she glances at Zarta, her disgraced predecessor.
"With your help," she continues, "I would indeed mend the rifts between us and forge an enduring friendship. I have entrusted your Master of Swords with several promising leads found within our borders. To that I add only this: Pathfinders, the glory of Cheliax is placed within your care." Her speech concluded, Ianareth bows deeply to Farabellus and then to the crowd before taking her leave.
Farabellus then steps behind the lectern and announces, "I've gathered a handful of teams to lead these initial expeditions, and I've posted those just outside the entrance to the Grand Lodge itself with times to meet me in my office for more details. There's rewarding work ahead, so don't be late! Dismissed!"
With that, the crowds on the lawn begin to disperse. Walking briskly with infinite poise and a clenched jaw, Zarta Dralneen is one of the first to make her exit across the grounds towards the Grand Lodge.
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"Then it is quite misplaced, I'm afraid...," Saeran whispers to himself, barely audible to his fellow adventurers. He never had anything against Cheliax; but as many others in the Inner Sea region, he didn't see a reason to bring more "glory" to Cheliax.
I don't know why, but this sudden reconciliation stinks...
"So, I get that we are one of the groups tasked with following those "promising leads" in Cheliax, isn't it?"
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"She walks with such command and authority," Brayden whispers, swooning as he watches Zarta exit. "It is almost desirable."
"It is strange that we're suddenly being allowed travel to Cheliax once more. The Society had been banned from such missions for quite some time. I can only wonder what the meaning of all of this is." He closes his eyes in thought, trying to put an explanation behind it in his mind. "In any case, an adventure into Cheliax will be a dangerous one, I'm afraid. We'll have to be well-stocked and prepared."
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Frankie's excitement to learn 'tricks' quickly dissipates as the tricks sound more like how grownups like to fight "Tell me more about that shambler trick, that one sounds neat!" He asks as they walk towards the sound of the horn.
The announcement has ended, thankfully, thinks Frankie. He stands amongst the crowd struggling to see anything. Lucky for him he's got a bit of sandwich left in his pocket to keep him occupied. Woah that guy has cookies! He won't mind sharing I'm sure...
Frankie wanders past the man with the cookies and a quick hand liberates a pair from his left cloak pocket.
"So where's this Cheliax place? Is it close by? I don't think I've been there before. Why is it so dangerous? Do they have cocoa there or should I bring my own?" He says in between bites of crunchy, buttery sugar cookies.
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"Hmpf. Politics."
Meredith's arms are crossed throughout the entire demonstration.
"Some woman just comes stomping in like she owns the place and graciously declares that we're allowed to find stuff for her. Isn't that grand?"
Meredith's voice drips with sarcasm.
"I've never been to Chileax, honestly. I've heard the rumors. None of them are good, of course. At least I get to hang out with you guys on this fetch quest."
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Lazarus observes Zarta Dralneen's strained expression and tries to catch up to her as she makes for the exit.
"Venture-Captain Dralneen! My name is Lazarus Logos, and if you can spare a moment, I'd like to seek your wisdom. This Thrune change-of-heart, is it to be trusted? I suspect the Infernal Magistrix and her loyal minions might have ulterior motives for seeking a rapprochement with the Society. The Master of Swords appears pleased, but what is your assessment?"
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"Cheliax is not too far away, Frankie, but we will need to embark on a ship to reach it," explains Saeran. "It remains one of the most powerful nations militarily in the Inner Sea region. Its control of the Arch of Aroden, the passage between the Inner Sea and the Arcadian Ocean, also gives it a vital role in much of the region's trade. Nevertheless, as important as the nation may be today, it pales in comparison to its former Imperial glories."
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