You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission that you hope will be of utmost importance.
Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.
You were asked to all come together in one of the meeting rooms of the Grand Lodge and have been waiting for a couple of minutes already but Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng has not arrived, yet.
Drandle Dreng is the venture-captain of the Pathfinder Society who handles Pathfinder assignments concerning Absalom's history and mysteries. He has a remarkable memory: he recalls hidden truths about the city's most important people that even they have forgotten. These secrets are not just gathered from Pathfinder agents: he gathers information personally.
Suddenly a little female gnome with pink hair opens the door to your meeting room and asks “Are you the team waiting for Drandle? He won’t be able to meet you here but left an address for you to meet him. Here you go!“
She hands one of you a piece of paper with the address and runs out as fast as she had arrived.
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"Why what madness is this? Venture-Captain Dreng is not here?" Golthwur Strath, a somewhat elderly, bearded wizard dressed in traditional robes of his profession stamps his foot. Already somewhat winded after carrying a satchel of items of his profession, including scrolls and other trinkets, the wizard seems entirely put out by the news proffered by the gnome. He takes the paper with disdain and reads it.
As he does so, he mutters under his breath, "They say he handles Pathfinder assignments concerning Absalom's history and mysteries. They say he has a remarkable memory. They say he recalls hidden truths about the city's most important people that even they have forgotten. They say he gathers this information personally..." The wizard huffs, then exclaims, "Then how could he have forgotten where we were supposed to meet? And for what, then, has he beckoned me, Golthwur Strath, Courtier of Conjurers and Wrangler of Runes, to take leave of my studies?"
The wizard appears largely oblivious of anyone else present. He huffs and then reads the note again.
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If the Grim Reaper were to decide to lighten up a bit, the man standing before you would fit the bill. The blade of the large scythe he carries arches over his head as he holds the haft like a walking stick. His skin has a pale blue color, almost as if there were not enough oxygen getting to his blood. He wears long robes with an over-sized hood pulled low to cover his thin face in shadows. There the similarity ends, for the robes are colored a pleasing blue, and the three-point knot holy symbol he wears around his neck is a likewise pleasing green."Greetings to you all. I am Treble Tan the Third. I see we are all well met. We have all given our allegiance to the Society, and as such should meet where Master Dreng has bid us to."
He pulls several many-sided objects from a pouch at his side, kneels down, and casts them about the floor.
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He ponders over the results for a bit, then gathers his divination stones and stands.
"I foresee our party's fate to be neither extremely arduous or overly easy. I myself, will probably find the next day to be likewise. However," he turns to Golthwur and Grallen, "you two should find our adventure simple, and will undoubtedly succeed, as will the next member of our party that shows up. Unfortunately, the last two members of our party will find things more difficult, and the last one through the door should exercise caution, for they teeter on a knife's edge of success or failure."
The little female gnome with the pink hair puts her head into the room again and says "Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you that Drandle wants you to introduce yourself properly to each other. He said that this mission can involve a lot of ale and he wants you to know each other at least a little before you see each other completely drunk! But where are the others? Go and get them to hurry up!" she says with a sly smile and closes the door.
You decide to go to the address and any Pathfinders that are late will receive the address from the lovely young gnome.
Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.
“Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?”
Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.”
As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled Venture-Captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
“The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
Selmius Foster was one of the founding members of the Pathfinder Society, known to have frequented the Wisp often and occasionally taken up residence in a spare room between his travels. His celebrated exploits first appeared in Volume 1 of the Pathfinder Chronicles.
Following the death of Selmius Foster on the island of Bhopan, his assistant Adolphus made several donations to maintain one of his mentor’s favorite sites. The exact arrangement between Adolphus and the owners of the Wisp was never disclosed, but it is said that some of this gold came from the same fortune that Adolphus used to found the Pathfinder lodge in Quantium.
“Do you have any questions?“
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Barging through the door, huffing and puffing, a tan skinned man of questionable morals and strength looks around frantically. Double checking a sheet in his hand, he spies the group seated nearby. Housting a rather large hollow tube over his shoulder, he makes his way to the table.
"Phew! Thought I'd be missen ya all togetha! Aint been 'ere befo and got meself turned abouts. Powerful pleasure to make ya aquaintences. Big Bobby Boom atcha service!"
Glancing around the table, he nods to each of you in turn as you stand. "Seemably got 'ere in da nick o time, eh? Be time ter shove off then?"
"Coin...well...I...OH! Ya got me. HA HA!" cries out the man as Dreng explains the assignment. "Yas needen us ter check out local shindig, eh? What kindo pretty we be grabbin there, sides a bit o the lizard? I dun supposen they's got Mudder's Milk?"
Glancing back toward the others, he whispers "Personal-like I aint neva heard of this wispy wound. How abouts yall?"
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Umbaraki is a strange mix of the ethereal and the material. He approaches in silence except for the soft clinks of his armor; all the color seems to have been leached out of the scarred dwarf long ago, leaving only pallid skin and a snow-white beard.
He carefully takes notes on a wax tablet as Dreng explains the mission, though a faintly dubious expression crosses his face as the Venture Captain gives them directions to a bar he's never heard of...
"It is just a wine bottle! After I have my bottle your real mission is going to start but you see ... I cannot leave now and would so much like to have a good glass of wine." Dreng says with a stern look.
"You can find me here again when you got my bottle. I am not going anywhere at the moment.”
He suddenly stares to corner to his right and hesitates moment – then looks at you “Run, run, otherwise you might be too late!“
Following the instructions you arrive at the Wounded Wisp bar.
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“If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least."
"I am Golthwur Strath, Architect of the Arcane and Duke of Divination, not a delivery boy!" The wizard huffs. "Though I suppose the locale does have some historic interest to the Pathfinder Society. After all, The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society, before the Society was even formed. It is inside the Wisp, that acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another. Such, no doubt, became the inspiration for the earliest chronicles."
The Wounded Wisp is located in the Foreign Quarter district of Absalom, close to the grounds of the Grand Lodge. Dreng’s hastily sketched map provides basic directions. You have no difficulty finding the establishment with the map Dreng provided. Almost every initiate or member has heard of or seen the building at some point.
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior of the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. In the hours just before dawn, the building closes long enough for menials to clean and to give staff a rest.
The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern—referred to by the staff as “the wisp”— that hangs there during the evening hours.
You step inside. The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
As you arrive, a handful of different groups are already relaxing around the bar, enjoying drink and food offered by the Wisp’s staff.
A1. Entry Hall: This long wooden hallway is the entrance to the Wounded Wisp, heading north into the building itself. The walls are covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar.
A2. Coat Check: This large closet contains various coat racks and shelves for patrons to place any equipment they don’t want to lug with them. Typically a teenager works here and manages any garments the patrons wish to stow.
A3. Main Hall: Tables fill the main floor of the Wounded Wisp where patrons sit with colleagues and share stories over drinks. Three sets of stairs lead up to a raised dining area (area A5).
A4. Bar: Staffed by at least one employee of the Wounded Wisp, the bar holds a variety of different beers, while hard liquors are kept in a glass case on the wall behind the bar.
A5. Dining Area: Four feet above the main floor of the Wounded Wisp, this section is sectioned off by elegant metal railings. On this level, patrons can enjoy a more private meal without the noise of the area below.
Knowledge (history) untrained: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17 So, I believe 10 is max result
You all notice that the current talk of the bar is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
Standing here in the Wounded Wisp you see a lot Wayfinders in the open and realize that this tavern is still very much frequented by Pathfinders
You look around and some of you see the faces of people that you have once or twice seen in the Grand Lodge.
On the other side of the bar sits the military historian Yargos Gill, one of the few patrons who bear no direct affiliation with the Society. Despite this, Gill has often found himself wrapped up in the Society’s affairs and he has come to accept the Pathfinders as allies. The older man is sipping from an oversized flagon of ale while reading through a large and ominous-looking tome.
Next to the bar sits Janira Gavix. Having completed her own Confirmation several months ago, the female halfling bard enjoys taking breaks at the Wounded Wisp. You have heard that Janira has an extraordinary memory, and that she spends much time here learning about the exploits of other adventurers and relating her own tales with oratorical flourishes.
Looking at her table you have the impression that Janira already has a group of newly confirmed Pathfinders listening to her tales of Society founder Durvin Gest and the fabled Lens of Galundari.
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Golthwur, laden with the tools of his trade, heads to the coat check to relieve his feeble frame of their weight.
"I trust these items within your care. They are of great value. Do not allow any harm to befall them for you are dealing with Golthwur Strath, Pasha of Power and Magister of Might!" He tells the coat checker.
"Of ... of course sir!" the young boy says.
For those of you who know her, Heryn Gale works the bar of the Wounded Wisp tonight, catering directly to those sitting on stools while simultaneously preparing drinks for those at tables and coordinating the wait staff.
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Recognizing Janira from his Confirmation, Treble approaches the halfling.
"Well met again, Janira Gavix! It is good to see you healthy, especially after our last... 'outing' together. It appears you have 'taken the bull by the horns', if you will." Treble chuckles at his own lame joke. "I wonder if you could clear up some confusion for me. During my Confirmation, it was mentioned that the Pig's Paunch was the site where the Pathfinder Society was established. Yet, Master Dreng just informed my friends and I this was the establishment to bear that honor. My history is slightly rusty. Could you clarify this discrepancy?"
"Treble ... Treble Tan the Third? I did not recognize you! Yes, that is actually one of the adventures that I would rather like to forget. To be honest, the whole end is really fuzzy at the moment."
When you mention the Pig's Paunch Janira starts laughing "Did Kreighton Shane, Master of Scrolls, tell you this? Oh yes! You should know that Kreighton is usually right, but Kreighton Shane has access to some high quality, black market alchemical concoctions ... and when he takes to much of that the 'Wounded Wisp' becomes the 'The Pig's Paunch' in his mind. This is where everything began!" Janira says proudly.
"I need to get another drink!" Janira says to the group she is sitting with and follows Treble to the bar where you all are standing. She orders ale and starts to observe you.
Janira winks at Treble "Do these fresh agents accompany you?" she asks but also lets her view wander to the rest of you.
One of the servers bring dwarven ale for Grallen. He sees that Janira is smiling at him.
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Golthwur gives the boy an eye, then turns to look at the crowded room.
"Brugh. If I had wanted to be in a room filled with assorted creatures, I would stayed in my tower and summoned some." The wizard makes no effort to hide his annoyance.
When his comment appears not to get a rise out of anyone, Golthwur mutters in a low voice, "Best get this unpleasantness done as quickly as possible."
Unaccustomed to working his way through crowds of any size, the elderly wizard makes his way towards the bar, crying loudly, "I am here to see one by the name of Heryn Gale, I am told that she may have a beverage for me to pick up!"
However, while en route, the shouting wizard loses his footing. Whether due to being jostled by a patron or from a slick of spilled ale, he cannot say. Falling forward, he slams into the top of the bar face first. He lifts himself up, removing any splinters or flecks of food from his full, white beard, and looking around in an attempt to determine whether anyone noticed his trip. He casts prestidigitation to remove a few beverage stains from his beard, and then attempts to regain his composure.
Slapping his hand on the bar, he demands, "I must speak with Ms. Gale, post haste."
Umbaraki ... attempts, with some difficulty, to flag down the bartender, seeking both Heryn and a glass of mead.
Unaccustomed to working his way through crowds of any size, the elderly wizard makes his way towards the bar, crying loudly, "I am here to see one by the name of Heryn Gale, I am told that she may have a beverage for me to pick up!"
Slapping his hand on the bar, he demands, "I must speak with Ms. Gale, post haste."
Heryn focuses on Golthwur and Umbaraki.
"Oh of course, I was wondering who Drandle would send to fetch his bottle. I cannot accompany you down at the moment as I have to wait until my replacement arrives so that I can step away from the bar. Look, up there are two free tables. Take a seat and have a drink and I will be with you within the next hour, ok?"
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Golthwur huffs and reluctantly takes a drink. He casts prestidigitation over the beverage, just to make sure its clean as can be, and then looks for one of the free tables. He casts the spell again in preparation of taking a seat, but then thinks the better of it.
Believing that he may recognize a fellow scholar within Treble Tan, Golthwur makes his way to the samsaran. "Tis not easy keeping company with so many... mundanes... is it? The wizard asks Treble as he looks around the establishment, taking particular note of the more martial types. "So sad it must be for them, do you not think, to be so close to the fruits of magic, but have neither the ability nor training to partake?"
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Believing that he may recognize a fellow scholar within Treble Tan, Golthwur makes his way to the samsaran. "Tis not easy keeping company with so many... mundanes... is it? The wizard asks Treble as he looks around the establishment, taking particular note of the more martial types. "So sad it must be for them, do you not think, to be so close to the fruits of magic, but have neither the ability nor training to partake?"
Treble studies the dwarf briefly before replying. "I can see why you would feel this way, Golthwur. Indeed, the varying magics are quite powerful, be they acquired through long, strenuous study, naturally revealed, or gifted from a higher source. I must say, though, that where magic may excel, there are oft times occasions where skill with a blade, or even a well-placed word, can be highly more effective."
Before the dwarf takes offense, he holds up his hand. As he speaks he starts to gesture in more and more complex, but definite, patterns. "Do not get me wrong, friend dwarf. I do not in any way deny your many years of study and the impressive result from such, but I cannot fully understand your viewpoint. I am on my third incarnation, and what memories I still retain from my previous lives tell me that the vast complexities of interweaving peoples and talents ultimately make us stronger, and make life more interesting, wouldn't you say?"When he stops, his hands do as well, and come to rest together, the fingers intertwined in a meditative pattern.
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Golthwur strokes his beard in contemplation of the samsarans thoughtful insights.
However, as old, ingrained ways are difficult to change, old, ingrained thoughts are even more. Thus, Golthwur responds, “Life is quite interesting enough already, no need to go adding on additional incarnations, in my learned opinion. Besides, much of what most adventures call ‘interesting’, I call ‘uncomfortable’.” The old wizard strokes his back, reconsidering his having passed an opportunity to sit down earlier. Three life-times? Golthwur ponders, By Nethys, I have difficulty, at times, surviving just the one!
Believing that he is unlikely to find a kindred spirit among the samsaran, Golthwur scans the room to look for other spellcasters or fellow scholars. Who knows? Perhaps , if I find one I could convince them to assist my work with the Dark Archives. Golthwur considers.
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Frozen stiff as the wondrous odors of stale beer, cigars...and blood? reach his nostrils, Bob smiles broadly. "Now dis I cud get used ta!"
Scanning the crowd as his companions burst in and begin flittering about, he takes his time to study the faces of the wizened, experienced pathfinders. His eyes falling on the shopkeep reading in the corner, he makes his way over, stopping a waitress on the way. "Ya bring me a mudders milk please."
Holding a dirty hand out, he smiles wide. "Yous Aram....Aram bin Kaleel, yeah? Dun believe had da pleasure, but I's Big Bobby Boom." Setting his large boomstick down against the table, he plops down into an open seat. "Yas a shop-keep preacher, yeah? I's be mite bit of an adventurer meself. Just gettin inta it. Iffen ya don't mind, gotcha any bits ter pass on? Ya know...advice and such."
As an after thought, he inquires "Whatcha be readin?"
Holding a dirty hand out, he smiles wide. "Yous Aram....Aram bin Kaleel, yeah? Dun believe had da pleasure, but I's Big Bobby Boom." Setting his large boomstick down against the table, he plops down into an open seat. "Yas a shop-keep preacher, yeah? I's be mite bit of an adventurer meself. Just gettin inta it. Iffen ya don't mind, gotcha any bits ter pass on? Ya know...advice and such."
As an after thought, he inquires "Whatcha be readin?"
The Kelishite man looks at Bob and answers "Oh young man of course you may join me discussing the book. Please sit down and let us have tea first."
He politely starts pouring you a cup of tea and sets his book aside.
"You are correct, my name is Aram bin Kaleel. You being in this tavern most certainly means that you are a Pathfinder. But I have not seen you here before. Oh and yes ... advice and such as you phrase it is what I can share."
Aram bin Kaleel starts a deeper discussion with Bob and whoever wants to join in. He opens his cloak and you see a holy symbol of Sarenrae.
"I like how we Pathfinders stand together when we are pushed. We all here share similar roots ... and are so different ... I see a little of myself in your current situation as new Pathfinders." he says smiling.
During the discussion you feel that Aram bin Kaleel wants to give advice to younger Pathfinders but never steps in directly on their behalf. If you want to know something you could surely ask.
"One warning for you. I espouse a belief in a balanced approach when acting on behalf of the Society — particularly when it comes to Pathfinders with little knowledge and an overabundance of brawn."
Aram continues “A Pathfinder should stand on his own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed. That is a common mantra espoused by Keleshite and also my philosophy ... but tell me more of yourself Bob - what are your goals in the society?"
Identifying Janira as a magic user and potential recruit, Golthwur heads her way.
"Greetings, I am Golthwur Strath, Maestro of Magic and Conductor of Conjurations." The wizard gives a low bow. "Tell me, do you have a keen interest in arcane artifacts?"
Janira is obviously slightly drunk and looks at Golthwur.
"Hello, greeting Golthwur. I am interested in arcane artifacts! Yes, yes! But I come to this place because this tavern represents our roots. I sometimes have the feeling that we Pathfinders have forgotten so much of the lessons of the past."
She shakes her head and looks up again.
"So why are you here? To drink and be proud to be a Pathfinder or because you want to understand what that actually means?! We have enough of that sort of people around here." and with that last sentence she looks at the two laughing half-orcs sitting at the table to the east.
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Treble realizes his mistake after Golthwur walks away. His sometimes conflicting memories had told him that only dwarves had impressive beards such as his. Scanning the room, he removes one of his divination stones and rolls it across the table. He moves over toward the table where Bob and Kaleel are seated. After all, three is always a good number.
"Pardon, but may I join your conversation?"
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"So why are you here? To drink and be proud to be a Pathfinder or because you want to understand what that actually means?! We have enough of that sort of people around here." and with that last sentence she looks at the two laughing half-orcs sitting at the table to the east.
"I am here at the behest of Venture-Captain Drang. He wishes me to retrieve a bottle of wine. I would prefer the study of artifacts and magical treasures. Is the pursuit of knowledge not what it means to be a Pathfinder?"
At first she looks a little confused about your answer but then she suddenly seems optimistic and cheerful.
She starts talking and talking without making much sense but she obviously is concerned about the path that the Pathfinders are taking.
More than anything, Janira seeks to assist and enlighten Pathfinders around her. She sees herself as a mentor to novices, working to assist them without taking over their missions.
"You are alright Golthwur Strath! I am always eager to to assist new or potential field agents. So if you need anything come to me! I spend most of my time either at the Wounded Wisp or on the grounds of the Grand Lodge. Now you have to excuse me, my table is waiting for me!" she says smiling and goes back to the table she was sitting at.
He moves over toward the table where Bob and Kaleel are seated. After all, three is always a good number.
"Pardon, but may I join your conversation?"
"Oh yes of course Mr. ...? Ahh, you belong to Bob! Well, I extend the question to you, too: What are your goals in the society?" Kaleel says to you.