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Seeing Dunkel's bad wounds and realizing she only has a brief moment before his attacker returns to her senses, Imrana steels herself, concentrating on producing her strongest curse. She points at the powerful-looking ratfolk that inflicted such grievous wounds.
"You will see no longer, Tseka."
After she lets loose the spell, the realization suddenly dawns on her that she never actually confirmed the identity of this ratfolk, and she may have cursed an innocent--for a certain degree of innocence--ratfolk to permanent blindness.
"Um...I think? I am most sorry if you are not her! I will pay for the cleric services myself."
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Both of Wyatt's arrows strike true, while the poison is beyond Jair's capabilities for the time being.
The ratfolk who had pretended to be Tseka drops her weapon, and falls to the floor, pleading as she covers her face with her arms.
"Don't hurt meeee!
Dunkel and Thorn are up. Dunkel needs to make save #2 vs poison.
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While Wyatt's arrow is insufficient, Doubtful's first punch on the new round knocks Tseka unconscious.
Searching the two unconscious ratfolk, the one cowering from you, and the dead human reveal the following:
For a supposedly bright agent, you seem to be struggling with a basic truth: you are a silver agent. You are not a gold agent and have never been a gold agent, and you are doing a fine job of campaigning against your own promotion with your childish antics.
If I catch you stepping outside the bounds of your authority again, my next letter to you will contain your shiny new bronze badge. Do I make myself clear?
As for your latest request, the patrons are not prepared to release more funding to your cause at this time.
[Signed]
-A. X. Adrius
Marnarius,
I am growing increasingly concerned that I haven’t heard from you since the report on your glowing success at the Pathfinder’s Grand Lodge. I have tried to supply you with the means to rebuild your life, but I’ve heard rumors that your desire for vengeance is preventing you from accepting my help.
Take some time to enjoy your accomplishments and revel in the harm that you have already caused to the Society. Don’t let the Pathfinders drive you to throw your life away chasing wild schemes, and please, Marnarius, stop placing your trust in the hands of people who have already failed the Consortium in the past.
Regards, Tseka
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As the ratfolk woman finally falls to the ground, doubtful glares at her suspiciously for a moment, as if expecting her to be faking it, prodding her with one booted foot, just to be sure.
He then kicks her sword out of reach, and glances back at the others.
"Still breathing." He observes. "Though how do we know which one's the one we're after?" He adds, glancing at the other two ratfolk.
"Probably got the wrong rat." He adds morosely.
He takes a moment to look around for more suspicious hidey holes that might be holding ratfolk or the like (including under the stage!), while the others examine the defeated foes.
(+2 more if stone related)
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Dunkel skims the spellbook before closing it and handing it off to the other scholars of the group.
"Some good finds in there. Ah'm sure Tseka won't mind if we borrow that fer a spell this evenin'."
Dunkel winks as he delivers his pun, then examines the note address to Marnarius.
"The note here's from Tseka, so one of 'em the right one. We can bring 'em all back?"
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"Good job, everyone! A mighty foe has fallen."
Imrana stows her wand and takes her own glance at the spellbook. As she reads the crumpled note, she suddenly stops and sifts through the other items found on Tseka, finally grabbing the gold Aspis Consortium badge.
"Tseka is not a gold agent. Why does she have a gold badge?"
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Well done, too bad though that for Makino's death...
Says Jair who begins to search in the room for secrets or knowledge.
After the searhc she says I agree with Wyatt, we need to take Tseka and keep her alive. It seems we miss some information here, as for the involvement of Tseka in the Aspis hierarchy
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Imrana recognizes that the design on the gold badge doesn't quite match the standard, seeming to be more influenced by local art. It seems to be a locally produced forgery, though well done.
She recognizes that A.X. Adrius is the he public face of the Aspis consortium’s leadership, and that he shares power with the consortium’s anonymous shadowy board of patrons.
Detailed searching of the room reveals a pair of secret doors, leading to narrow tunnels that seem to go for a long distance.
Most of the papers here are ordinary trade paperwork, but determined Other documents include detailed blueprints of various parts of the Grand Lodge, and plans for a person named Marnarius lead an army out of the Hao Jin Tapestry.
Wyatt finds a receipt that looks unremarkable, though he smells something strange. It seems that there are a series of smells laid out on the page as some sort of message.
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"Maybe these snakes were branching off?" Doubtful muses, uncertainly, at yet another fake Aspis badge.
"Like those Shadow Lodge guys a few years back." He adds, looking concerned as various conspiracy theories facts start to work their way through his head.
"Probably some sort of inhaled poison." He warns, as Wyatt examines the scented message.
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The ratfolk, grateful for its life being spared, begins to talk to Jair.
"Tseka didn't tell us much of the big stuff. Makino's room is down at the end of the hallway. Might be stuff there.
She and Yekai were also doing stuff with the mushroom people and the Dark Folk. Making poison and drugs, mostly. The Dragon Fangs sell them for us."
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Imrana writes down notes in her journal--which should surprise nobody by now--though she briefly gets distracted by the mention of Dark Folk.
"I think that we should check Makino's room first, as he will likely have more evidence that we may be able to use. We may not need to engage in more combat at this time."
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"Big ones and small ones. They speak some weird language. Tseka knows it."
Imrana knows that the most common language spoken by Dark Folk is, unsurprisingly, Dark Folk. They are Darklands residents, always dressed head to toe in tattered clothing. They are fond of using poisons, and have a nasty habit of exploding when they die.
This hollow holds a bed and makeshift dresser. A journal rests atop the dresser, a serpent etched over a picture of an open compass on its face.
The journal explains that Makino’s betrayed the Society after meeting up with someone called “the Spider”, and decided to join the Aspis Consortium out of spite after a group of Pathfinders “chased her into the blade of a murderous madman”. His journal also reveals that if the Pathfinders ever find him, Tseka plans to pretend to trade him away in exchange for leaving her in peace, but asserts that she would never actually let the Pathfinders take him.
The room closest to the entrance has three practice dummies lined up against the wall. They wear pendants around their necks bearing crude replicas of wayfinders. A ceremonial gown rent by several bloodstained stab marks hangs on the western wall.
The adjoining room seems to be a makeshift barracks, with small cots and personal belongings lined up against the walls.
A flourishing mass of purple fungus separates the western portion of this room. Two cages lined with straw and fungal spores sit ajar against the north wall. To the east, smooth stone covered in scorched images of screaming faces gives way to rough stone. The fungal mass reaches nearly to the ceiling, forming a barricade.
Three creatures that appear to be humanoid shaped mushrooms, one human-sized, the others gnome-sized, wave at you when you open the door, before turning and leaving.
They leave behind a contract, showing an alliance between "the colony" and a group called the Korholm Agenda. In the contract, the colony promises to supply rare fungi in exchange for experimental alchemical brews and several live kirrixes.
When you eventually exit, you see the ratfolk by the entrance have fled during the commotion. Yrishi is waiting for you. "What did you learn inside."
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Thorn breaks from his reverie as he starts paying attention. He shoves the Rhinarium paste into his nostrils and does his level best:
"Oi, looks like they're trying to do a Cheliax recast on a Gokan noble, but they're using grandma's clothes." The rogue looks around "Um, these are parliamentary robes, but old."
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Bit by bit, Thorn works out the code on the paper. Each scent seems to correspond to a letter, in what appears to be the Dark Folk language. Despite being unfamiliar with the tongue, he's still able to piece it together:
The other members of the Agenda were no fools. They all took great pains to conceal their identities. Disguises and illusions dancing through the meeting chamber make the task of identification more difficult, but here is what I know for sure.
The leader betrayed a hint of a Thuvian accent in an otherwise carefully flat tenor voice. The leader has clearly taken precautions against divination magic.
One woman spoke with a voice I have heard only rarely, from the Iblydan archipelago.
Another woman’s voice was distant, as though she were in a trance. There was something eerie and unnatural about it that I couldn’t quite place. Whatever language is the source of her accent, I have never heard it.
Perhaps the easiest to track down will be the Varisian man, who allowed a distinctly Sczarni turn of phrase slip into his speech. Varisian contacts have confirmed his identity: Madreki Gael.
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Dunkel raises an eyebrow as his eyes widen as he observes Thorn sniffing at the note like an Ustalavic bloodhound.
"Grandma's clothes, was it? Ahl'right lad... ohhh, Madreki Gael, tha's Guaril's ol' nemesis from Nirmatha-nirmatha, ahhh? Nirmathas!"
Dunkel finally gets the word out after a few attempts and looks to Doubtful to speculate on their likely next assignment where they'll fact certain death, or more poison-wielding ratpeople.
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She taps the bloodstained gown, sniffs it, taps the blood, sniffs the blood, then--as she notes her observations--she realizes she has seen this type of gown before.
"In my studies of the intervening 4139 years between when I went into stasis and now, I have seen ceremonial gowns like this in woodcuttings of proceedings of the Gokan parliament, though this one looks particularly old."
"It appears that the ratfolk was telling the truth about the mushroom people, as there are myceloids here, not to mention some Fungus Leshys."
She begins idly doodling in her tome as she continues thinking out loud.
"I wonder if the ratfolk was refering to the myceloids as mushroom people or the leshys? Perhaps both? He may not have immediately made the connection between fungus and mushrooms, or not thought of leshys as people. I should ask him."
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Wyatt raises an eyebrow as the contents of the 'smell note' are revealed.
"My word. That is certainly a useful little bundle of information. I dare say the Society will be very interested in that... very interested, indeed!"
When Imrana starts discussing fungal lifeforms, and the ability of ratfolk to distinguish between them, he simply shrugs.
"Possibly. I doubt that they are sufficiently educated about intelligent Darklands fungi to know the difference..."
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News of Tseka’s defeat spreads quickly through Undermarket.
When you return to the Lantern Lodge, Amara Li praises your skill and ingenuity in uncovering valuable information and putting an end to Tseka's schemes. The Lantern Lodge and the Pathfinder Society are one step closer to bringing the Aspis Consortium to justice, and you have dealt a crippling blow to the Aspis Consortium’s interests in Goka.
If you tell Amara Li what you found out regarding Makino and his betrayal, she tells the you she that thought Makino was dead, but that she now realizes that not even Goka is immune from the corrupting power of the Aspis Consortium and the reach of the Shadow Lodge.
She thanks you for your discovery, and says, “It is always a pleasure to work with Pathfinders from different parts of the world. Please convey my gratitude to the Grand Lodge, and let the Masters know that Tian Xia will always welcome the Society. I hope that we meet again someday.”
Passage back to Absalom has been arranged, though Li asks Thorn to remain behind for further debriefing.
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The voyage from Goka is long but uneventful. Before you even have the chance to unpack, though, you're sent back to the docks, along with a new companion, and ushered onto a clipper headed for the Arcadian Ocean, where you meet up with an old friend...
On the Grinning Pixie’s deck, Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry stands defiantly amid the howling wind and driving rain. The powerfully built half-orc’s voice carries over the storm.
“There!” she yells, pointing to the northwest. “We’ve reached the Gloomspires.”
As if on cue, numerous impossibly narrow fingers of black rock suddenly appear in the distance. The unnatural structures exude a sensation of unnatural and profound dread. Benarry laughs deeply as the sensation descends.
“I bet you’re glad to be back to these gods-accursed spires! I sent in another team to continue the good work you started, and things didn’t go so well. You’re the closest thing to experts on this rock that we have, so I’m trusting you to complete this mission safely.”
She leans in closer. “Let’s review some of the details of your mission.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Two months ago, I sent another team of Pathfinders to Old Sevenfingers’s tomb aboard a Thuvian caravel called the Pride of Aspenthar. The Pride and the Pathfinders never returned to Drenchport. Divinations confirmed that the ship was lost. It apparently sank after transporting the Pathfinders to the tomb, but no Pathfinders were on board. I sent the team into the second level of the tomb—a place called the Labyrinth of Hungry Ghosts. I put a veteran explorer named Jaohd Ilzinian in charge of the team. He’s a paladin of Shelyn known for his skill at fighting against things that should be dead.
“Ilzinian’s team carried the Orb of Stars with them. As you undoubtedly remember, i’s a powerful magic item that freezes the Gloomspires in place so they can be explored safely. As you can see,” she says, gesturing to the spires, “the orb isn’t working. In the last few minutes, those columns have shifted twice. Without the orb, the spires only stand still on the solstice.”
Benarry allows her words to sink in before continuing. “The solstice begins in a few hours, so you’ll be able to make your way to the tomb just fine. I need you to climb up to Sevenfingers’s tomb, find out what happened to the Pathfinders, and recover the Orb of Stars. Also, I let Jaohd borrow Old Flotsam, my folding boat. She’s precious to me, and I’d really like her back.”
A sudden flash of lighting and the roar of distant thunder punctuate the captain’s words, and she smirks. ”Sounds simple enough, don’t it? The spires will stay in place for three days. If you find the orb, you’ll get two weeks. If you stay longer than that, you lubbers might run into trouble sailing back out. I’ll circle the Pixie around the spires for three weeks just in case. Any questions before you jump in the rowboat?”
Benarry also provides you with two pouches of grave salt and a wand wrapped in a shroud. She explains, "That ratty scrap of cloth is connected to Sevenfingers himself. A mystic old sea dog performed a ritual to connect it to the wand. He said it should make the magic item more effective in the Gloomspires, as long as you don’t unwrap it. You let me know if he was trying to pull something on me, and I’ll go get my coin back.”