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Magnimar, 1 Arodus 4712
On the western edge of the land of Varisia, along the southern reaches of a beautiful stretch known as the Lost Coast, the swampy expanse of the Mushfens and the coiling length of the Yondabakari River come to a stark and dramatic end in the shadow of a striking limestone escarpment jutting from the cliffs. Varisian legends have long regarded the place as a blessed resting spot for celestial messengers, and the wanderers would often visit in hopes of seeing an angel and gaining the good fortune such a portent presaged. Yet the upthrust mass of stone itself is overshadowed by an even greater sight—the Irespan, one of ancient Thassilon’s most prominent ruins. Known also as the Giant’s Bridge, this ruined causeway juts out from the Seacleft nearly 400 feet, with its ruined pilings extending farther out to sea, giving the unmistakable impression of ancient grandeur. Be it the point at which angels descended from the heavens to bless their Varisian wards or the ancient site of forgotten commerce and travel, the region has long captivated the imaginations of those who beheld it. Its position at the mouth of Varisia’s mightiest river and at the southwesternmost safe harbor on the mainland only further ensured that the site would, one day, host a magnificent city. Today, that city is known as Magnimar—the City of Monuments.
Built in the shadow of megaliths, Magnimar endlessly endeavors to surpass the overwhelming scale and grandeur of the ancient wonders that litter the Varisian landscape. A place of great opportunity, social stress, and cold beauty, the city exudes the air of a southern metropolis, seeking to rise above its ignoble beginnings as a refuge for Korvosan outcasts to become a beacon of culture and freedom in an unforgiving land. Yet its towering monuments, elegant gardens, ostentatious architecture, and elaborate sculptures form but a cracked mask over a struggling government and a desperate people in need of heroes.
Who might those heroes be, you will undoubtedly ask. Let us meet them as they are waiting for their fate to come to bloom in the quiet halls of the Pathfinder Society's newest lodge, Heidmarch Manor. Set like a jewel on the Alabaster district, this recently-restored house belongs to two of Magnimar's most eccentric citizens: esteemed hunters, explorers, and Pathfinders Sheila Heidmarch and her husband Sir Canayven Heidmarch. Rumor has it they recently retired and gifted their own manor to the Pathfinder Society, thus founding Varisia's first lodge. Rumormongers among the ranks of the Society itself acidly remark that without the unexpected discovery of the Aspis Consortium's plans to foil the Society's, Varisia wouldn't have been more than backwater to the almighty Decemvirate. Yet whatever the reason, Heidmarch Manor as grown to prominence in the last year, and it is now buzzing with activity of a thousand small hands perusing the grounds provided by the two former adventurers. Visitors are always welcome to the manor!
It is there that our Pathfinders are waiting for their next assignment, shortly after receiving a promising invitation of sorts from the Venture-Captain herself. Gathered in the foyer, the heroes of tomorrow are still waiting for Sheila Heidmarch to finish up a meeting with an important guest.
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Vandilo Kalmeralm, diviner, eternal student, reluctant Scarzni, and disinherited only son of Magnimar's Princess of the Market had arrived early. A swarthy fellow, whose dark hair had already staged a retreat leaving him with a severe widow's peak which he emphasized by sweeping it back, with dark mocking eyes, and a mouth turned up in a faint sneer.
The Varisian dressed in fine, but subdued, attire that would befit a noble and wore a silver signet ring depicting a full sail with a shield inside it. Upon his shoulder a tiny bird, a thrush, blue with a bright orange belly perched constantly scanning its surroundings with nervous jerks of movement. A crossbow and quiver, clearly newly purchased for their lack of wear, was strapped across his back.
As others arrive Vandil approaches them in turn extending a hand, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, I am Vandilo, newly returned to Magnimar, though it is my home from a decade ensconced in the Grand Lodge archives. I am a wizard specializing in divination and shall serve as Chronicler for our efforts, though others may of course deign to replicate my efforts. Might I ask for your name and the nature of your talents?"
As he finishes the thrush chirps loudly and says, "Cât despre introducerea-mă!"
"Forgive me this is Adevăr, my most loyal companion. I fear he only speaks Varisian."
A fur clad, muscled woman with a green-grey tint to her skin rises from her cross-legged place on the floor and takes the offered hand. She brusquely pulls him forward as she shakes and looks him deeply in the eyes.
"You are the eager one, Vandilo the Chronicler. I am Telka Beast-Talker. My axe, and the tales in my blood, have come to Magnimar from the Realm of the Mammoth Lords. I have come to hear stories, and if I am lucky, perhaps make a few stories of our own." She grins with slightly pointed teeth.
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Vandilo smiles thinly, "I enjoy having the time to calculate and plan and had no pressing business. And stories, stories are useful constructs, they tether knowledge and are more palatable than dry facts. If you have a a penchant for the telling of compelling tales then I must have you look over my writings, the best Pathfinder Chronicles are both informative and entertaining. Do you possess any from of magic Telka, I am a planner and understanding the abilities of those I will likely be working with is crucial, I have read of too many groups of individuals I would have us work as a team first and foremost."
The thrush quirks his head and squeaks, "Vorbesti Varisian verde stapana?"
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As Adevar squawks, the weary Osiriani man jerks his head back up with a snore-nearly causing his turban to fly across the room-and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away the drool left behind from his unexpected nap. He takes a moment to clear his eyes and look about the room, "Eh? Where'd all the others go? Sent home? Eh?" He catches sight of the coffee-now long cold-left by his elbow by the servant and picks up the cup to take a sip. "Bah! Page! Fresh coffee!"
The man reaches beside him and picks his staff back up, thumping it on the ground a few times. "Eh? Well, in case you didn't hear before, I am Sahib ul-Makam al-Rafi Ramenhotep the Risen, Priest of the All-Seeing Eye." He pats a small silver holy symbol of a black-and-white mask hanging from his neck and pauses for dramatic effect. "Ramenhotep will do, though."
"I've been sent here on transfer orders from Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir of the Sothis Lodge; I've been with the Society for a while, a servant of the Ruby Prince even longer, and a follower of the Black and White for as long as I can remember."
After thinking it over a bit, Ramenhotep finally remembers his manners, "Oh! And, ah, it's good to meet the rest of you, too. . . I suppose."
He turns his head to the side and shouts at the door,
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Vandilo nods, almost a bow, "A pleasure I am sure Vandilo. Nethys is certainly a worthy god, but I think I should have to make a study of his duality I find it a puzzling paradigm. I am nominally a follower of Desna myself, but organized religion holds scant attraction for me, I prefer to venerate knowledge itself I suppose. Are you a user of clerical magic then Master Ramenhotep? I seek to understand the abilities of prospective team mates..."
The finch twitter and squeaks, "Bla, bla, bla, cafea! Eu sunt foarte vechi!"
Vandilo calmly reaches back and clamps the birds beak shut with his fingers.
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"Puzzling paradigm, yes, that's a good way to summarize the teachings of Nethys, heh heh heh!" Ramenhotep seems amused by Vandilo's assessment. "Desna, eh? She doesn't have much of a following in the sands of Osirion. I too venerate knowledge, but I find Nethys a convenient guide towards that veneration."
"Nethys himself was a practicer of the arcane arts and I follow him in that regard; clerical work never suited me much. I have chosen a particular avenue in my training as a priest; that of the balance between arcane expertise and martial prowess."
The Osirion scholar suddenly leaps from his chair, his staff flying in an impressive series of arcs and twists, finally hitting the door with a thud! Unfortunately, that door was in the process of being opened and unexpectedly flies back with a thump! and a crash! from behind. Ramenhotep looks surprised by this development and pushes the door the rest of the way open to reveal a servant lying on the floor drenched in coffee. Ramenhotep berates the man, "Well what you doing back there? Eh? You could have hurt yourself! Don't you know we're discussing business?"
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The servant, still hesitant between screaming in pain for all the hot coffee on his hands and fleeing from the impossible old Garundi, only finds presence of mind to speak with an unexpected stutter. "S... so sorry, Sir! It-it-it wasn't... I m-m-mean... getting you an-n-n-nother one right away, Sir!" Picking up his tray and the broken pieces of the coffee cup, the servant almost shamefully disappears into thin air to avoid another berating.
Upon the discussion of Desna, the brightly (almost gaudily) dressed Varisian all but bursts out of the chair where he was flipping through a deck of cards, deftly catching and putting them away.
As he stands, you can catch the full effect of his wardrobe, with yellows and reds poking out from his cloak and scarf, revealing the slender build of a long-distance runner or a dancer. He says "Greetings, friends! May the light carry you far today!" as he approaches, nodding to the Osisrian and the self-proclaimed Densan.
He nods again, cheerily, and says, "I believe, arcanist, his statement about clericism was less about filing and number-work, and more about channeling the divine... which, looking around, I assume is the role that I'll be expected to fill. I am Zeltyieli, which is the Varisian form of an elven name, I'm told... and thus, rather appropriate for me."
He leans forward toward his fellow Varisian and adds, "And, I understand completely... My sponsor, in fact, was a cleric of Desna, and she could never understand how we could share so much in common in terms of worldview, but I simply was not suited for any organized kind of religion.... Why limit yourself to a house of worship when there's an entire world out there? Which, of course, is likely why I felt the call of the Walker of Worlds.... But that's a whole other issue."
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Vandilo smiles, though its a little forced, and nods to Zaltyieli, "Ah, well you will likely find Adevăr here is more devout than I, though he also has a taste for butterflies that verges upon the sacrilegious. Clerical magic is certainly a worthy addition. Might I ask after an particular specialties, I understand the gods grant their followers special talents in two domains of their influence typically?"
The thrush whistles excitedly to draw attention saying, "Pun pariu că ai vorbi Varisian! Foarte colorat ca mine! Ce sunt ai familiei la? Este să mănânce un fluture ca o rugaciune la Desna? Sale interne ca un simbol sacru dreapta! Trebuie să am mancat doua sute astfel încât mă foarte sfant!"
After he has finished conversing with Zeltyieli he asks Ramenhotep, "Speaking of the pursuit of knowledge if your gifts are such that they require a spellbook I would be very interested in exchanging spells. Alas I have perhaps neglected my magical studies in recent years for more mundane academia and wish to expand my repetoire."
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"Speaking of the pursuit of knowledge if your gifts are such that they require a spellbook I would be very interested in exchanging spells. Alas I have perhaps neglected my magical studies in recent years for more mundane academia and wish to expand my repetoire."
Ramenhotep nods to Vandilo and smiles for the first time. "Among fellow scholars I am always happy to exchange arcane knowledge."
Telka laughs at the antics of Ramenhotep.
"Vandilo the Chronicler, who must write every detail, know this: I Telka Beast-Talker know words that can soothe a warrior's wounds or grant them hope renewed, and other words to grant them strength in battle" She smiles wryly and sultrily paces across the room to lean against a bookshelf. "Of course, I also summon beasts and talk to a few, badgers mostly, but perhaps you had wits enough to puzzle my other skills out from my name."
She looks over Zeltyieli. "Desna... that is the southerner name for Mother Moon, or the Walker of Worlds as you have named her. It is good that we count one such as you among are number. Our travels will be blessed, assuming we are ever told by the masked ones where they wish us to go."
Zeltyieli chuckles, "I do not think that Desna minds, unless he's been eating Celestial butterflies.. still, I cannot speak for her. To answer your question, my link to my goddess has emphasized my love for exploration and her nature as an Empyreal Lord. She has granted me the gift of speed, and a sliver of her own nature, allowing me to bring a measure of freedom and goodness to all."
He then turns his attention to the bird with a smile and says, "Într-adevăr eu, prietenul de culoare! Nu ești doar o surpriză minunată? Familia mea este una care urmează căile nomazi, și așa mai departe, de mică importanță într-un oraș mare, cum ar fi acest lucru. Și îmi imaginez că răspunsul la a doua întrebare se află în dacă le mănânci pentru că sunt gustoase și ți-e foame, sau dacă o faci pentru a arăta devotamentul dumneavoastră pentru Desna .... Sau, daca esti foarte norocos și inteligent, ambele."
"Indeed I do, little coloured friend! Aren't you just a wonderful surprise? My family is one that follows the nomadic ways, and so, of little consequence in a grand city such as this. And I imagine that the answer to your second question lies in whether you eat them because they're tasty and you're hungry, or if you're doing it to show your devotion to Desna.... Or, if you're very lucky and smart, both."
Zeltyieli shakes his head, "Ah, I apologize for the confusion. Densa is a universally-loved goddess, and rightly so, and has a number of titles, it is true.. However, here in Magnimar, there are many dedicated to the Empyreal Lords... and I am amongst their numbers. I worship Sinashakti, the Walker of Worlds and the Immaculate Joy.... Though, I am quite sure our travels will still be blessed."
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"Interesting, I suppose it behooves a deity to maintain many faces, mystery has always served religion well. I am glad to hear you are not too interwoven with the cities families I am afraid I possess some baggage in that regard..."
The finch hops up and down on Vandilo's shoulder, "Atât! Nu fluturi cerești gust mai bun? Pun pariu Desna vrea să le mănânce, pentru că ea este frumos! Vandilo-mi aduci ceva, vă rugăm să vă rog!"
The wizard sighs and lies, "Am auzit creaturi celeste gust de scorțișoară..."
The familiar squeaks in protest and gives a convincing impression of vomiting. V
Zeltyieli chuckles at Vandilo's deflection of his companion's new-found interest, "So far we have spilled coffee, bad-tasting butterflies and no sign of our hosts...." He pulls the deck back from his pouch, and flips the top card, trying not to wince at the crudely-painted face, This is no Harrow deck, sadly.., "...and yet, the cards seem to say that this is a good start..." He puts the deck away again, adding, "...though I'm still not quite sure what we're starting."
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Vandilo watches the deck with interest, "As a Varisian and Diviner both I have an interest in Harrow. My grandmother had a fine deck, but alas my mother and I are not on good terms, last I heard my little sister Zelda was using it to complement her rather dubious fortunes. Its a shame that such a noble practice is diluted by so many frauds and hucksters. I myself am rather fond of cinnamon, but Ad here was once shut in a jar of it for some time..."
The bird chirps and pecks Vandilo's ear, "Timp de două zile!"
Vandilo sighs, and replies wearily "A fost vina ta și am fost ocupat traducerea un cont de fascinant de practici religioase Thassilonian. De ce naiba ai zburat într-un borcan, în primul rând mi-ar fi dat ceva pentru a încerca."
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As if to echo 'Tyieli's words, the oaken door opens to allow two women in the room. The first you recognize immediately as Sheila Heidmarch, your hostess. The second one is an attractive half-elven woman dressed in leather armor and armed with a distinctive-looking mithral-and-redwood aklys and a bastard sword. She's carrying with her a wayfinder, the prestigious mark of a true Pathfinder.
The Varisian Venture-Captain greets you in an unusually deep voice. "Ah, welcome Pathfinders, and thank you for answering my summons. I am glad you could come and join us in this golden age for the Society, especially here in Varisia. Let me introduce Koriah Azmeren, one of our fellow Pathfinders who has made quite a name for herself lately-she's one of Varisia’s most famous Pathfinders and a well-renowned expert on the Darklands. Koriah has just returned from an expedition to the Darklands below Varisia, having successfully scouted out a new route down to Nar-Voth from the Fogscar Mountains. In her journeys below, she has unearthed a surprising number of Thassilonian artifacts, which we were talking about just now. I'm afraid we have to discuss the implications of this discovery further." Sheila Heidmarch then pauses for a moment, as if in though. "... yet you might be able to help us with a minor task while we're establishing the specifics of her discovery. Please follow me."
She leads you in an adjoining room, the lodge library and study. The walls are lined with bookshelves, while several tables in the middle of the room are heaped with scrolls and books. One table in the center, however, supports only a single object—an ornate cubical stone coffer covered with Thassilonian runes.
"Please have a seat." she continues once you're gathered there. "I apologize for the delay, as I must conclude my business with Pathfinder Azmeren before we meet. In the meantime, though, I thought you could help us with another minor issue. This stone coffer is an ancient Thassilonian puzzle, a cunning feat of magical engineering known as a paradox box. As you’ll see from even a casual investigation, what appear to be seams on the sides are only shallow grooves—there’s no obvious way to open the thing. Each paradox box has its own secret method of being opened. Essentially, a paradox box substitutes hidden catches and magical triggers for a lock. Given time, anyone clever enough could figure out how to open a paradox box, just as given time, a locksmith can open any lock. This particular box was among those items recovered by Koriah—the scrolls next to the box are her preliminary notes on possible triggers or methods of opening it, but she’s not yet had a chance to sit down and properly investigate the thing. We did ask a local Thassilonian expert from a town nearby to translate the runes, though. Here are his notes. So... why don’t you put your heads together and see if you can’t do that for me? Even if the box is empty, as I suspect it probably is, knowing the method of opening it makes it a valuable find anyway. I’ll return shortly, and I hope to see that box open! Think of this as an audition, if you will—because the actual task I want to speak to you about soon will require as much wit as it will brawn!"
With a glint of malice in her eyes, she returns to her office with Koriah, leaving you alone with the strange box.
The Pathfinder’s notes are an invaluable resource, though. The scroll lists translations of the significant runes on the box—one of the most oft-repeated symbols was the rune for “wrath,” which Koriah also notes is associated with evocation magic, and in the earliest days of Thassilon with the word “kindness.” Her notes indicate that this rune merely marks the box has having once belonged to a citizen of the Thassilonian nation of Bakrakhan, and that the rune likely has little to do with the method of opening this particular paradox box. The Thassilonian expert's notes and translations bring more elements into light.
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Vandilo nods to himself examining the scrolls and box and saying, "Presumably number one is darkness, number two coffin, number three ice, four fish, five candle, and six hole. Now how to activate it..."
Cautiously the diviner presses the relevant runes in order, if that does not work he attempts to slide the runes. Adevăr twitters as he peers down at the box in interest.
"Yes Vandilo the Chronicler; your answers ring true." She waits patiently as he fiddles with the runes.
Zeltyieli's face brightens, "I've always loved puzzles...", and he reads over the sage's translations, nodding to himself. When Vandilo speaks, he smiles and says, "Aye, that sounds like the right of it."
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"Its a fascinating language, three grammatical genders and three interconnected but separate runic systems allow for a degree of subtlety and nuance Taldan simply is not capable of. Of course Varisian borrows heavily from its simpler dialects - which I have always thought accounted for its more lyrical aspects," Vandilo replies absently, "I have always thought language is not only revealing about a culture, but influential in its formation and development; A more rarefied tongue aids scholarship and broadens the perspective of those who master it, but can potentially limit the pool of literates within its reach."
Upon Vandilo's shoulder his familiar gives a very human sounding sigh.
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"Ah, now if you want an interesting language, look to the sphinxes. I studied their language from one of their own in Sothis. You can't really say anything without couching it in a riddle. Quite beautiful. . . but it can be frustrating if all you're trying to do is write a shopping list-you spend half your time standing in the market trying to tease apart your own notes!" Ramenhotep chuckles to himself, thinking back fondly on his time in Osirion training beneath the sphinxes.
Telka grunts, clearly disinterested in the academic prattle. She peers at the box with focused eyes.
"I thought Thassilonian peoples were giants and humans. Do any of your books tell you why such surface-folk might living underground? It is strange." She looks impatiently at Vandilo and Ramenhotep, seeking an explanation from the two scholars.
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"Perhaps you could take me through the basics some time? I would love to meet a Sphinx, but I've never traveled to Osirion, outside the pages of a Chronicle at least. There are so many languages that intrigue me though, it is difficult to select which to assail next; I had been making some preliminary study of Dwarven, but there is so much to learn and so little time!"
To Telka he replies, "I suspect enough items of power would have been of interest to the dark things that lurk below the world to make such finds plausible. By all accounts the Thassilonian Empire was vast, and they were certainly magically potent. Rest assured that given the opportunity I would be more than willing to research the matter."
The door to the room opens briefly, revealing a small, bleached-white female gnome with gray markings on her face. Raising a slender finger to her lips, she ducks her head back out the door, looks both ways, and then slips into the room.
Running across the room, gauzy streamers flap behind her. She quickly looks under the desk, behind a cupboard and in the small closet on the far wall. Not finding what she feared, she turns suddenly, a beaming smile on her face.
Slipping up to the table, she climbs up on a stool, putting the table at waist height. Leaning her elbow on the table, one of the streamers brushes the edge, disgorging numerous small black spiders with red markings. Without noticing, she scoops them up and while you can't tell exactly where she puts them, it's probably back into one of the webbing streamers.
"If Koriah asks...Morrigan been here the whole time. No...Morrigan wasn't outside feeding sparrows to Chitter, she was here the whole time.... Pausing, a sly look crosses her face,"Actually...you all probably didn't see her cause she's so small...that's what it was, it was all your fault for not noticing...
Quite pleased with her cleverness, she looks down at the cube you have all gathered around.
"Paradox Box, ancient Thassilon, probably cursed." Suppressing a shiver, she looks at you out of the corner of her eye, "Have you touched it yet?" Continuing, almost in spite of herself, "Morrigan doesn't want to touch it. Ancient magic. Human magic. Bad magic." Realizing that this might discourage you from trying to open it, thus forcing her to try, the gnome quickly changes her story. "Not that you have to worry, I'm sure you'll be fine. You're all big...and mostly human." This last is said with a sideways glance at Telka, filled with a fairy's distrust of orcs.
Plopping both elbows onto the table, the little whirlwind rests her head on her open palms. It occurs to you, now that's she finally settled down, that you should probably speak quickly before she gets going again.
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As Vandilo presses the runes corresponding to his answers, a faint click can be heard, and the paradox box opens. Unfortunately for you, the box holds no secrets of ancient Thassilon—it instead holds an ancient trap. Two dog-faced gremlins are released and immediately spring out to begin wreaking havoc throughout the chamber.
Initiative - round 1
>Morrigan
>Ramenhotep
>Telka
>Zetyieli
P
Vandilo
Everyone except Vandilo can act!
Unluck Aura (Su) These creatures radiate an aura of unluck to a radius of 20 feet. Any creature in this area must roll two d20s whenever a situation calls for a d20 roll (such as an attack roll, a skill check, or a saving throw) and must use the lower of the two results generated. This is a mind-affecting effect that does not work on animals, other gremlins, or gnolls. Any character who gains any sort of luck bonus (such as that granted by a luckstone or divine favor) is immune to the unluck aura.
The half-elf reaches up and pulls off his scarf, spinning and twisting the thing before lunging out with it, trying to strike the small creatures that were hiding in the box.
"Bah, cursed wizard tricks!". Telka's skin glows emerald green in anger as she pulls her axe and swings.
with flank
with flank
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Despite his age, Ramenhotep is the quickest to react. His now-magical staff whirrs in the air and smashes against one of the beasts, crushing its skull. The creature falls on the groud, limp and lifeless.
Zeltyieli's scarf cuts like a razor and luckily slices open a large wound in the dog-headed beast... and nearly kills it!
Telka recalls these beasts are called pugwampis, and belong to feys. As such, they are resistant to weapons not made of cold iron. The half-orc's greataxe finishes the second pugwampi with ease.
Against all odds, the box isn't actually empty. The pugwampis were guarding some precious loot: three garnets (worth 50gp each), a masterwork silver dagger, and a magical ring.
In the aftermath of the fight, Sheila and Korah return in haste, drawn by the sounds of battle.
"What is the meaning of this ruckus? Why... pugwampis, here? Would you care to explain what happened?" says the Venture-Captain, apparently angry. After some explanation, her anger doesn't seem to be appeased, but it becomes more obvious that she's angry at herself. "How could I leave such a dangerous item unattended! You could have been seriously wounded... I must apologize. You performed well in your task, Pathfinders, and I see I was right to choose you for the task I'm about to assign to you. Please, keep the items inside the box-it's not much in payment for the work you've done." she says as she takes the opened paradox box and the notes. Sheila Heidmarch bids farewell to Koriah, and the half-elf bows to you as she leaves. "Good luck in your endeavors, Pathfinders. Who knows, one day we may meet again."
When you're alone with your Venture-Captain, she asks you to be seated and prepares to explain at last the true reason of your presence here.
"First, allow me to apologize for that unpleasantness regarding the gremlins—but it does provide an excellent object lesson. The life of an adventurer is not one for the weak-hearted. That you not only took care of the gremlins but also got the box open in the first place is all the confirmation I need that my gut was right—you’re the perfect group for the job I have in mind.
"You see—I’ve recently had trouble with one of my informants here in Magnimar, Natalya Vancaskerkin. She’s a half-Varisian who recently approached the Pathfinder Society with an offer to serve as a street informant. She runs with the Sczarni—I’m not sure with which group. A week ago, Natalya sent me a cryptic hint that her gang was on the verge of uncovering an item that would be of great interest to the Society. Since the Sczarnis’ methods of uncovering something often involves an armed robbery or breaking into somebody’s personal chambers, we thought it prudent not to press for further details and instead wait to see what it would produce. Suffice it to say, she hinted strongly that it pertained to Thassilon, and promised to meet with me to discuss this find three days ago.
"She never kept that promise—instead, she seems to have simply vanished. Initially, I assumed that the acquisition of this item was simply taking longer than expected, but now I’m hearing rumors that the Sczarni are looking for her as well. It seems likely that Natalya has absconded with this item she’s discovered. And this is where you enter, my friends. I want to know what it was that Natalya and the Sczarni found. In fact, I’m more interested in that than in what happened to Natalya herself. For now, I’d like to keep all of this quiet—if you can find out what happened to Natalya without letting a lot of people know she was also working for me as an informant, that would be preferable—that’s a big part of why I’m coming to you, as new members of the Pathfinder Society, with this task. You don’t yet have a reputation in Magnimar, and as such, the lowlifes and criminals you are likely to encounter may be more likely to talk.
"So... go out there and look for Natalya. Find out what happened to her, and to this item she and her gang discovered. If you can secure the item, all the better—bring it back to me and I’ll have a reward of 500 gold pieces for you. And if you can bring Natalya back alive for me to speak to, I’ll double that! What say you, Pathfinders?"
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Vandilo casts detect magic and studies the ring, "Hmm, a ring of Feather Falling, a most useful little item. Well done, would that I could have been of some use, but I am happy my efforts were not required."
He offers a bow to Korah, "Many thanks, I wish you rewarding and illuminating missions, I shall look forward to reading Chronicles of your efforts."
When they are seated in the Venture Captain's office Vandilo presses a finger to his temple closing his eyes for a moment, "Let me see Natalya Vancaskerkin, Sczarni..."
Telka straps her axe upon her back again, after wiping the fey blood from it.
"Sczarni - they are the Varisians who value freedom. A people after my own heart. So this object was more important then her clan?" She snorts in thoughtfulness. "It must either be very important, or she does not listen to her Varisian blood."
Zeltyieli winces slightly at the mention of the Sczarni as he cleans off his scarf before wrapping himself again. He says wryly, "Indeed, they value freedom... and will be more than happy to free you from your posessions... or your life if you're not careful enough."
He shakes his head, "This won't be easy... While Sczarni, generally, won't prey upon Varisians... they're still very insular and not likely to open up to outsiders, even other Sczarni that originate from outside their gangs or families... and someone who abandonned their ways would be almost more suspect."
He trails off slightly as a flood of his childhood lessons wash over him. ...I think I may have had almost as many lessons about Sczarni outside the family as I did about non-Varisians...
He shrugs, "I am Sczarni...". He taps his eartips and chuckles, "Well, half, anyway..."
He says with a cheerful tone, "...I was raised by my mother's people, as part of a Family. I know their ways, and I'm not likely to be taken in by their double-speak... but I'm not likely able to pull the wool over their eyes."
That was a seriously big axe - bigger than me! I'll not be caught standing around at a table when some blood-crazed orc starts swinging one of those around higgily-piggily!
Sheila Heidmarch bids farewell to Koriah, and the half-elf bows to you as she leaves. "Good luck in your endeavors, Pathfinders. Who knows, one day we may meet again."
Morrigan climbs out from underneath the table where she'd ducked when the giant pieces of metal started being swung around.
"Ah ha! No more 'Morrigan do this, Morrigan do that.' No more 'Morrigan not a proper Pathfinder, not got a 'finder.'"
"Well, of courses Missus Sheila. Morrigan can help find this Scarzni woman. Lots of maps we can buy with 500 gold, and even more with double that."
Telka notices the bleachling, seemingly for the first time. "And what are you, 'Morrigan'?" She looks over the gnome, confirming that Morrigan is flesh-and-blood and not some sort of convincing ghost.
"These southerners have some strange ones among their ranks, but I have never seen your like before. And your pets or unusual... not many I see carry spiders around in their... garmets. Or were they some sort of snack for later?" She grins toothily at her own obvious joke.
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Sheila Heidmarch sighs deeply before taking some time to address your questions. "I unfortunately don’t know much about Natalya, other than that the woman approached the lodge shorty after its foundation and offered to be a sort of double agent among the Sczarni. As we have recently forged alliances with the Sczarni in many cities throughout the Inner Sea region, I knew that having a member of a Sczarni gang as a double agent could be useful. Unfortunately, one of Natalya’s conditions for entering this alliance with the Pathfinders was that she wanted to retain a good amount of anonymity and autonomy, so she’d be free to handle things as she saw fit. I now realize that agreeing to these terms may have been a mistake—but until I know more about Natalya's fate, I'm not willing to write her off as a traitor." She pauses, but suddenly her eyes lighten up as she remembers something. "When Natalya initially approached Sheila with the offer of serving the Pathfinders as an informant, she engaged the aid of a man known as the Amazing Zograthy, a Varisian who keeps a permanent tent and fortune-telling business in Washers’ Row in Dockway."
"Apart from this, I don't have a real clue that might help you. There have been rumors of Nidalese slavers prowling the streets of late, and if these are true, being abducted by a slaver in the middle of the night would certainly explain Natalya’s absence. She might even have been picked up by the city guard for some reason, in which case a visit to the Arvensoar, the garrison for the city’s watch, might yield some clues. Beyond this, I can offer nothing but wishes for luck."
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"Bah! Fortune-telling? What a bunch of hogwash. I assume by that you either mean he is a very good cold-reader or that he is very well-informed in other ways. In the latter case he might know something that could help us along. Then we can go check with the city watch; it just doesn't seem in character for a thug-I mean adventurer-like Natalya to get abducted by some slavers."
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Vandilo sighs, "I have certain, rather oblique, Sczarni connects myself. They are usually more chore than use, but I do know that Natalya was in the Tower Girls, an all female gang. I hear they have deserted their namesake tower recently - which sounds like a rather large coincidence - and I say we search there first. As for the "Amazing" Zograthy I would suggest we bring either silver tongues or golden coins and that gold will prove the more expedient facilitator. Alas my purse is lighter than it could be wished could we prevail upon you to provide us with some bribe money Venture Captain?"
"The world is full of spirits, and they will tell you much about the world if you have ears to listen, Ramenhotep Bitter-Tongue. Sometimes that is prophecy enough." Telka sighs the old man "We should start with Amazing Zograthy and bring gold, that honey of cities."
Zeltyieli's smile fades as he turns to face the old man, "A truly gifted reader of the Harrow can catch glimpses of the future... it is merely another form of magic."
He then pauses and adds, "Though I know why you might think otherwise... My won family reserved their true readings for Varisians, and instead tended to tell străin such as yourself what they wanted to hear --- or what would make them the most coin."
He shrugs, and then his smile returns as he turns to the bard, "A good start, I think, Telka.... Though I agree with Vandilo -- her gang's sudden shift is a rather.... interesting... coincidence... and worth looking into -- or, at least, asking Zograthy about."
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"Surely bribe money would come under the heading of expenses? Between five our prospective rewards would diminish drastically, and I am sure you recall how swiftly coin spends when one is equipping at the beginning of a Pathfinder career. And after all the better we can afford to arm ourselves the more use we are to The Society and our Venture Captain," Vandilo says, smiling apologetically and shrugging.
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"With respect Venture Captain anyone who lacks the strength to say no to a mere request deserves to be taken for everything they are willing to give. As you have so ably proved saying no is far from impossible, and trite a turn of phrase as it is, if you do not ask you do not get," Vandil says smile turning wry as he takes the coin with a bow.
"Let us depart then, we shall find Natalya if she is to be found my Lady, I pray she is well when we do."
Vandilo makes to depart and as the group exit he says, "I favour exploring the tower first, it could be that that would be all our coin earned us from Zograthy and far the better if we do not turn out to need anything from him. We might wish to pick up some acid and alchemist's fire if we plan to explore and abandoned building, we were oft warned of swarms in training after all."
Telka notices the bleachling, seemingly for the first time. "And what are you, 'Morrigan'?" She looks over the gnome, confirming that Morrigan is flesh-and-blood and not some sort of convincing ghost.
"Me? I'm a gnome!" Slipping you a glance sideways, you get the distinct impression she thinks your fooling around. "I'd think you'd know that. There are certainly gnomes running around the city. I mean, I know an orc when I see one...after I back up about ten feet and look waaaay up. Maybe the machinery runs slow up there, probably gets wet more when it rains."
["These southerners have some strange ones among their ranks, but I have never seen your like before. And your pets or unusual... not many I see carry spiders around in their... garmets. Or were they some sort of snack for later?" She grins toothily at her own obvious joke.
"Hah! That's a good one. Everyone knows spiders are poisonous. And they don't go down well, too many legs hanging on for dear life."
"Matron Heidmarch, Morrigan will go with these four to see more of the city and practice dodging axes. They're pretty clever to open the box so quick and maybe some fun might be had."
Morrigan is obviously ready to leave the building. With Koriah gone, its time to enjoy life footloose and fancy-free!