| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Though some of you do try to keep an eye out, as well as make note of the name you've picked up, there's no sign of the escaped Ulfen slave anywhere. You recall that Tamrin Credence said that he'd escaped and dove into the waters of the harbor but nothing had been seen of him since then. While he might have drowned, as Tamrin speculated, it's also possible that Veld may have eluded capture by trying to swim further along the coast before making his way back to land; there's no way to know for certain.
"Ah, it is a pleasure to meet you both," Zefiro responds cordially, returning Lazarus' respectful bow and grasping Saeran and Brayden's hands firmly in turn. "The rest of you, too. As I said, we haven't been getting as many visitors of late so it does my heart good to see such a crowd here this evening!"
"And as for that scent? Why, it's the scent of history, my boy!" Zefiro continues, spreading his arms wide in a grand gesture. "Years and years of history, all coalesced and collected in one place! Isn't it grand?" Then, he lowers his arms and chuckles. "Or to be more specific, parchment and the leather that binds many of the tomes we keep here. That and the wood finish; powerful stuff, linseed. But I digress, you're here to learn about...?"
Where Zefiro's demeanor has been quite cordial and welcoming, the mention of Emberhold and House Davian sparks a profound change - the smile immediately drops from his face, almost as if he's been doused with cold water. "Hsst, not so loudly! If you knew anything about this nation's history then you'd know that that name is anathema to House Thrune," he whispers, suddenly looking around nervously. "Who seeks this information? Who sent you to me?"
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Dalen keeps her hood pulled low and her head down as they head through the slave markets and afterwards. She is almost bowled over by a rather large and well-fed man who's tirade dies in his throat as she fixes him with an icy-eyed glare that does nothing to hide the rage seething inside. Thankfully, nothing else happens as they make their way to the museum.
"'Ouse Thrune can sod off t' the Nine 'Ells they love so much," she growls at the mention of the Royal Family of Cheliax before muttering something unprintable about Asmodeus and certain carnal acts.
Blue eyes flick to the others as if telling them to get on with it.
"L-look, it's not that I disagree with that statement but my position here is very delicate," Zefiro stammers, moving to peer anxiously out a nearby window as he does. "I have my life and my work in preserving the city's history to think of!"
As he peers out the window, Zefiro begins wringing his hands together, clearly growing more and more agitated.
Zefiro's clearly seen something outside that's only served unnerve him even further.
________
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"It smells like horse skin and dead tree bark." Denair is rather blunt when Zefiro mentions the smell.
|
"Peace, Master Curator. What have you seen through the window that distresses you so?"
Lazarus presents a calm front, but he retrieves his wand of mage armor and wand of bless, holding them in his hands inside his sleeves, in the event things are about to go to Taldor in a hand basket.
He joins Zefiro Balinger at the window, taking a look himself.
"Farabellus?" Zefiro repeats, his eyes widening with a mixture of fear and horror. "Then you're Pathfinders! No no no no, this won't do at all! Your presence here will ruin everything! My work, my life, and those closest to me - they've all been jeopardized! You'll...you'll have to..." Zefiro babbles, growing more panicked by the second. Unless calmed, he's likely to reach an uncooperative frenzy very quickly...
At first, you're not sure what has Zefiro so paranoid and panicked as the scene outside seems to be the same as you left it only minutes ago. But then, it finally hits you - the two guards that were stationed at the nearby intersection have vanished.
Denair, bored, looks out the window alongside Lazarus.
|
Seeing the man's agitated state ramps up Frankie's curiosity a bit, much more than the boring BOOKS and HISTORY he was about to endure. "I have cocoa! Lets have a mug of cocoa, everything is better with cocoa!" He pulls his mug out and smiles.
He hops up from his seat and looks out the window with the others "Whatcha all looking at? Did that escaped slave run by???" He scrambles up to catch a look.
|
|
Looking out the window, Lazarus realizes what's agitated the curator. "The two guards that were stationed at the nearby intersection have vanished."
The samsaran places one reassuring hand on the man's shoulder. "Peace, Master Balinger. Ianareth Alazario, emissary of her Infernal Magistrix, Queen Abrogail II of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune, has officially communicated that the Pathfinder Society's exile is at an end, and Cheliax welcomes us once again!"
"However, if you are concerned for your personal safety, you are now among friends very capable of defending you. You may count on it, sir."
Between the barrage of reassurances and the offer of hot cocoa, Zefiro does manage to calm himself down, taking a few slow, deep breaths as he regains his composure. "I am sorry, I...you must understand, these are trying times and even though the Society has been officially welcomed to return to Cheliax, there are still rules that must be followed," he explains, running one shaky hand over his eyes. "Certain things that should not be said, lest they clash with the narrative that House Thrune wishes to paint of Cheliax's past."
Zefiro then gives the group a hard, searching look, as if trying to resolve something in his own mind. "I will aid you, provided you perform a service for me, a task that I can't handle myself. You see, I have a...a friend, a most extraordinary woman. One who knows things about the history of this city," he begins, clearly hesitant to divulge any more information than is necessary. "And I have reason to suspect that she is in danger of being 'disappeared' by the Order of the Rack," he swallows. "For spreading 'unrevised' information about Corentyn and Cheliax's past. There's no proof but I suspect that is why they have been watching the museum and watching me."
"Not only is she a valuable historical asset, but she is also my friend and I...I am very fond of her," Zefiro concludes, his tone quiet. "In exchange for securing her safety, I will share with you what I can about House Davian and Emberhold. Will you help?"
You keep a wary eye on the nearby door, or in Frankie's case out the nearby window, but note nothing unusual beyond the sights and sounds of pedestrian traffic outside as people make their way to their homes after a long day's work.
|
"The Order of the Rack. Hellknights." Brayden firmly states. He reaches for his katana. Still not there. "It's going to be dangerous opposing them to rescue your, er, asset. Stealth may serve us better than swords. Perhaps the vertically challenged among us can use their small size to their advantage," he says with a glance at Frankie.
|
|
Frankie hops down with a bored look on his face after seeing nothing of interest outside that window. His facial expressions perk up quickly though as Brayden includes him in the plans for rescue "Vertically challenged? What's that?" He gives a slightly confused look before wringing his tiny hands together.
"Oooo rescuing old ladies is my specialty! Where does she live? Does she have any children or grand children? Where should I bring her? I can totally be her young relative and have her take me out somewhere! Even this place must be nice to kids right?" He looks at the old historian with big puppy eyes.
|
|
"Finally. You calmed down a bit." Meredith continues to be blunt. "I see why you were so hesitant now. Of course we'll help her, but you need to give us more details. Denair and Frankie love playing Hide and Seek. Trust me, they're good at both."
She pulls out her scroll of Unfetter. "I knew this scroll would come in handy."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Thank you so much," Zefiro responds as he exhales the breath he probably wasn't aware that he was holding, looking visibly relieved. "But please, do not think me a miserly sort - were circumstances different and my friend not in danger, I would be more than happy to freely share what I can with you," he continues, his expression now pained.
"To answer your questions, her name is Mireille and she's currently staying at an establishment known as the Fox Den in the West Drenches," Zefiro explains. To everyone's surprise, he actually chuckles slightly. "It's funny that you refer to her as an old lady, my boy...to ones like us, I suppose she technically is. But that's beside the point. Once you arrive you'll likely have to do some sweet-talking to convince Velia, the Den's hostess, to allow you entry, but beyond that I don't expect you'll encounter any trouble on your trip there...provided you've managed to keep a low profile since you've arrived in the city, that is."
Shooting another quick look at the front door, Zefiro beckons everyone to follow him from the main entrance hall into his office near the rear of the museum. "And to show that I'm not a miser, nor that I underestimate the danger that I'm asking you to step into, there is something that I can offer you in addition to information," he explains as kneels down an carefully raises the rug that covers the floor, opening a small secret compartment hidden underneath it. Within the compartment are a small number of scroll cases and books, carefully wrapped. Zefiro carefully retrieves one of the scroll cases before closing the compartment and rearranging the rug as before.
"This - this is a destined acolyte's scroll, purportedly penned in the temple where Iomedae herself studied as an initiate," he explains, reverence in his voice. Zefiro holds the case to his heart for a moment and then offers it to you. "Though I have unable to discern if this scroll was indeed penned by the Inheritor herself or one of her fellow initiates, what I can tell you is that the magic contained within the vellum is exceedingly potent. No one but myself will miss it, so please, take it with you."
This scroll is especially potent thanks to its connection to the Inheritor. When activated as a magic scroll, it replicates the effects of both Bless and Consecrate in a 40-foot radius. If an undead creature or evil outsider is within this area, the caster can end the consecrate effect as a free action to grant every weapon wielded by creatures affected by the Bless effect the Holy weapon property for 1 round. If activated by a worshiper of Iomedae, all of the scroll’s durations are doubled.
Assuming one of you accepts the scroll, Zefiro bows his head. "I'm afraid that this is all the help I can give you right now. Please, take care when you go - Master Valdrin's suggestion to make use of stealth is a wise one." Turning to Frankie, the museum curator kneels down to look him in the eye. "And you, my boy, you especially. I'm sure that Mireille would love to try your cocoa...and so would I, once all of this business is taken care of," Zefiro adds, offering a small smile.
|
|
Frankie smiles "Mmmm cocoa! So where should we bring Mireille? You don't want us to bring her here, that seems like a bad idea, and what kinda place is this Fox Den? Is it a zoo?"
He takes a seat and drops his backpack to the floor and starts rummaging inside it, pulling out a small bag with dress up outfits and wigs and things in it. "What does she look like? I'm gonna dress up like she's my Mom or Grammy or something? Maybe? Gotta look the part! Denair can sneak along with me as my... Pet fox? For the Fox Den!!" He pokes Denair and laughs as he waits for some direction from the old man.
"Oh, I get it! Fox Den!"
|
|
Lazarus accepts the scroll and examines the vellum and its magical notations.
"A destined acolyte's scroll is especially potent thanks to its connection to the Inheritor. When activated, it replicates the effects of both Bless and Consecrate in a 40-foot radius. If an undead creature or evil outsider is within this area, the caster can end the consecrate effect as a free action to grant every weapon wielded by creatures affected by the Bless effect the Holy weapon property for 1 round. If activated by a worshiper of Iomedae, all of the scroll’s durations are doubled."
The samsaran bows to the curator. "A potent scroll, indeed, Master Bellinger."
"We'll go to the Fox Den and secure the safety of your friend Mireille. Though, if she's about to be 'disappeared' she might not trust strangers. Is there a message we can give her, so that she'll know you sent us? And Lil Frankie is right. Where would you like us to take her?"
|
"According to what Mister Balinger told us, the only difficult part should consist in accessing this "den". I do not think I will need a disguise to do so, however. Through diplomacy and an accurate choice of words, I am sure we will be allowed to enter."
Saeran peeks at the street through the window. "And it seems like it's clear outside now. Shall we go?"
Before leaving, Saeran pays his personal respects to the Curator. "We will do everything we can in order to see Mireille safe, Mister Balinger."
|
|
Frankie gets himself dressed up nicely, hair color changed as needed, etc. "So I'll go in and get her to come out with me for a trip to the park, we're gonna play some wicked awesome kickball or handball maybe. Guess we'll see which she'd rather." He puts his finger on his chin as he thinks about it.
"You guys stay outside and outta sight ok? If things go badly I'll blow my whistle and you come bail me out!" He jumps on Denair and tries to give her a noogie as the growd-ups chitter chat.
"Okay! I can stay outside and look for trouble!" Denair crouches, ready to sneak off. She giggles as Frankie tries to give her a noogie. "Watch out for the roses, I hear the thorns hurt!"
|
|
"I'd feel better if one of us went with him," Dalen says after thinking about their course of action for a moment. "If something does go wrong, it'd be a lot better if one of us was there to help keep Frankie, Denair, and Mireille out of trouble. If I keep my mouth shut, I should be able to avoid drawing attention to myself."
Zefiro chuckles a little at Frankie's question. "This young miss has the right of it," he nods at Dalen, "that Mireille is elven. Very astute observation by the way. I suspect that once you explain the situation to her that she will decide for herself where she wishes to go. Although skilled at blending in when she needs to be, she won't stand much of a chance if the Hellknights catch her by surprise. Do what you can to help her hide or to leave the city entirely and then make your way back to me as soon as you can."
________
Once you've decided on a rough plan or two, all of you make your way out of the museum. The sun has set by this point and all along the streets you can see the twinkle of lights from nearby windows as much of Corentyn prepares to settle in for dinner and then a good night's sleep a bit later on. A few people continue making their way along, heading to one place or another, scattering small flocks of ravens that peck at the ground for dropped crumbs and other treats. Much to your relief, you don't see any guards or Hellknights patrolling about when you step back outside and you quickly set out towards the city's West Drenches before they have a chance to show up.
After a walk that takes you clear across the city, you slip into Corentyn's West Drenches and make your way towards the Fox Den. The smell of raw fish, stale sweat, and old booze permeates this section of the district. Broken pathways are slick with mud where they aren’t simply flooded. Small wooden buildings are built around narrow canals brimming with dark water that flows swiftly out to sea. Sounds of a busy business district quiet intermittently, at which time the groaning boats and boisterous sailors in the nearby port are just loud enough to hear.
Rounding a corner, you finally reach your destination. The Fox Den is a modest-sized building with boarded windows and a badly faded sign that depicts a fox hiding behind its own bushy tail. There’s a small stained glass window set into the front door with a patch of fogged white glass and the faint sounds of laughter and conversation can be heard from the other side.
|
|
Frankie happily skips along down the street, stopping on occasion to give small rocks a kick and to jump into a few puddles. "Sure is wet down here, smells like the docks too, yuck! Why do people eat fish? It smells SO bad." He pulls a piece of candy out of his pocket and sucks it out of the wrapper like a pro, smiling.
When Dalen asks Frankie his face gets a questionable look "You wanna go first? If you want, sure. But if I were you you should prolly let me do most the talking. I haven't met many people that don't like me, I think?"
Once everyone is where they would like to be Frankie heads up to the door and tries to peek in the window before knocking.
Now Unfettered for 10 minutes, Denair tries to find a wall to climb up discreetly.
She begins looking through the windows, searching for elven females.
She looks at the painting and giggles, desperately wanting to change its color with some magic. Good thing Meredith gave her a stern lecture.
|
|
"It's th' one's you can't charm that I'm worried about," Dalen replies with a smile. "Just remember, we gotta talk to th' lady who is runnin' this place an' convince 'er we don't want to hurt th' ladu we're after."
Hearing Meredith saying she'll follow Frankie's lead, Dalen gives a shrug and leads the two of them into the Fox's Den.
"'Scuse me," she says with a nervous smile that doesn't do as well as she'd hope at helping her make a good first impression when she sees someone that looks like they're an employee, "I'm lookin' for a lady named Velia. 'Appen t' know where I might find her?"
|
|
Lazarus is one confused reincarnated soul. Technically, I suppose, a movement to contact has approximated a reconnaissance in force in the historical annals of some of Golarion's more barbaric hordes. Hmm, I look forward to seeing how this works out. New experiences and all that.
The samsaran paints a smile on his blue face and follows the rest of the team into the Fox Den.
________
As Dalen tries to open or push her way through the front door into the building, she's surprised to find it locked. She jiggles the door a bit and then hears the sound of approaching footsteps. Movement can be seen on the other side of the small fogged class as someone peers through. Then the fumbling of a latch is heard and the door creaks open a small amount. A middle-aged woman with frizzy red hair takes in the sight of Dalen, Frankie, and the others standing in front of the door.
"Lookin' for Velia?" she repeats, eyeing the group suspiciously - especially when Meredith mentions Mireille. Still, she does seem to relax as Frankie and the rest put on their best good manners and charm. "You've come to th' right place then 'cause that'd be me. But obviously I ain't th' only one you're lookin' for." Velia glances around the mostly empty streets for a moment and then pulls the door open to allow entry. "Don't know who you folks are but you seem to be on th' up and up. Come on inside 'fore anyone else sees you though. It's a sad thing when it's easier to trust strangers than your own neighbors!"
Inside, a cheery fire warms the cool sea air, and nine young children of varied ages sit around a slender, middle-aged elven woman with chestnut colored hair and a simple, yet elegant rust-colored dress while a large black bullmastiff dozes nearby. The elven woman's eyes are closed, and she commands the attention of the children with a tale.
"...and so Sir Galdaeon went to confront Baraxial, who was a powerful, wicked barbed devil called to aid the Esoterium Lodge. Their battle shook the city to its foundations! And it's even said that pieces of Aroden's Arch crumbled into the sea as Baraxial dragged Sir Galdaeon with him back to Hell," the woman finishes, her voice solemn. "Corentyn itself felt every blow. And I knew then that I had to flee the city while the civil war continued to rage on."
Her tale finished, the woman opens her eyes. The children blink, stirring sluggishly from their spots seated around her, as if waking up from a dream. She looks up at the group of you and smiles, though it's a strained smile at best. "Ah, more visitors! Welcome, welcome to the Fox's Den. I was just finishing up a tale for the children, as you can see. A dark tale to be sure, but an important one worth telling. What brings you to this place?"
"Dunno Mireille, but they said they were lookin' for you," Velia cuts in. "Wasn't inclined to let 'em in at first, but eh...don't sense anythin' untoward from any of 'em. But if you say th' word, out they go." As to how she would accomplish this is unclear, but Velia looks to be quite serious with her threat.
________
Meanwhile, outside, Denair has stealthily made her way up onto the eave that hangs over a nearby window. Though the windows are boarded, Denair can still catch glimpses through the cracks of the group inside and can see that they appear to have found the person they're looking for. As she gazes around the darkened streets from her unique vantage point, nothing seems amiss. The faint sound of boats creaking and sailors going about their business filters over from the nearby docks and the occasional cawing of a bird or barking of a dog can be heard.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Frankie excitedly introduces himself to Velia "Hey, I'm Frankie, nice to meet you!" He then quickly heads over to story time and is visibly disappointed when it ends just as they come in. "Ah shucks, I haven't had a story time in FOREVER. Maybe if we have some cocoa can you tell another one?"
He settles in next to a little brown haired girl before remembering why they are really here. "A friend of yours wanted us to stop by and give you a hand with something. They were real nice and couldn't wait to see you!" He mimes pushing up glasses on his nose and smiles.
That nice guy at the museum with the glasses sent us to sneak you out of the city, he's worried you aren't safe anymore!