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A little more than a week after your success in recovering the Dacilane heir from the ruins of the Drownyard, you are summoned to Skyreach again, to await the arrival of Absalom's newest venture-captain, a a tall, dark-haired and olive-skinned Varisian woman named Eliza Petulengro. Renowned for her composure under pressure and the author of more than two dozen Pathfinder Chronicles entries, she appeared in the hall suddenly, a stack of chronicles in her arms, and looked you over before speaking.
"My greatest pupil, Pathfinder Bodriggan Wuthers, has gone missing. He followed a cleric contact back to Wuthers’s home city of Oppara to work on a massive dig beneath the House of the Immortal Son, Oppara’s famed opera house and once temple to the dead god, Aroden. That was a year ago. He sent monthly reports, hoping to see their publication in a chronicle, before all contact dried up a few months back. I’m worried something has gone wrong, and the Society has a vested interest in the artifact he was researching and seeking. We want you to travel to Oppara and find Wuthers. We’d like to know exactly what he was seeking, too, since he neglected to inform us through his monthly correspondence. He hinted only that the cleric of Irori he was working with told him the object was the world’s greatest ‘living’ artifact—whatever that means.
"I have a few tidbits of information to pass to you before you go: the House of the Immortal Son is nearly impossible to access. It took Wuthers months and countless bribes to get where he did. For you, I have a much simpler idea. Go to an opera, wait for an opportunity, and then exploit it to find Wuthers and his dig site.
"Be sure to wear something festive—the Taldan nobility are arrogant on their best days and if you arrive at the opera dressed like that," she waves her hands at you, "they’ll surely lose your tickets or regret to inform you that the opera house is oversold.
She seems willing to answer questions before dismissing you to begin your mission.
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"Ha! Two Tall Tim visiting an opera. Surely there will be a song or a tale in that even if we find that Bodriggan has merely lost all his pens. What led Bodriggan or the Society to the understanding that there was something of interest below the opera house? Is it all connected to Aroden? Perhaps a 'living' artifact has something to do with a 'dead' god."
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"There are some half-orcs among the Taldan mercantile class, so as long as you dress the part, you won't look too out of place," Eliza replies to Tim. "We have no idea what the artifact was -- Bodriggan's last missive was as cryptic and pithy as he usually is. He insisted that the artifact would raise the renown of the entire Society after its recovery. He didn't name the artifact, or the Iroran with whom he was working. That was more than a month ago, and he's well overdue on the report I expected. I'm afraid something has happened to him.
"His reports indicate that the Iroran priest was the one who told him about the artifact, and indicated it was under the former temple of Aroden, now the opera house. He negotiated access to the basement and permission to conduct an excavation there. That's the last report I received. It could be something related to the Last Azlanti, I suppose. No way to know for sure until you find it."
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Fatham, the older human male with long hair and beard, stands silently. A great silver streak runs down the back of his uncovered head. He wears the a dragon hide almost as if they were his own skin.
If it seem preposterous Two Tall Tim would go to the opera, it seemed doubly so for this wild-looking druid.
"Must all of our missions involve the wasteful upper class?"he asks. "I did not dress up to impress this lot before."
And will not do so this time, either...
The druid sniffs. "But we'll get this done."
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Eliza sighs at Fatham. "Can you at least take a bath? I'll try to have my agents in Oppara apply gold to the right palms to make sure even your pets can get in."
To Kastarr, she replies, "If you can find the cleric of Irori, by all means. I'd be interested to find out how he knew about this artifact. If he's a scholar of antiquities, it might be worth it to try to convince him to join or at least cooperate with the Society.
"There shouldn't really be any need to smash anything. Try to find Wuthers. If he's alive, find out what happened. If he's dead or you can't find him, try to get into the basement to check on the excavation. If it's completed and you can find the artifact, retrieve it, if at all possible. If it's not, let us know and we'll arrange to resume the excavation that Boddrigan started."
She hands you a detailed sketch of Boddrigan Wuthers, similar to the sketches that each of you sat for when you joined, so that you can identify him if necessary.
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A tall dwarf, thin by dwarven standards, stifles a cough in the back of the room.
Hmm. Opera... Well, I guess adventures have to start somewhere. I am interested in that artifact.
He steps forward and smiles at the group. His eye catches the half-orc druid whom he took his Confirmation with and he winks. To the rest he simply says...
"Name is Thergrom. Pleased to be workin' with you. Let's do this."
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The Society has arranged passage for you to Taldor, and a contact to meet you when you arrive at the bustling port of the ancient metropolis of Oppara. The elderly man turns out to be the Venture-Captain of the recently-established Oppara Lodge, which is a small suite of rooms hiding behind the façade of a greasy bait and tackle shop. A significant part of the lodge is taken up by a workshop where Venture-Captain Muesello builds wayfinders. He provides you with the tickets to the opera, as well as assistance, if needed, in purchasing any of the local fashions.
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Totally lost on how to proceed with shopping, Two Tall Tim thanks Venture-Captain Muesello for his guidance on local fashions and then asks, "Venture-Captain, do you know anything more about this Wuthers and what might have happened to him? Or this cleric of Irori? If not, I guess we'll let you know what we find out after the opera." Once the conversation is complete, Tim makes plans to meet up with everyone else prior to the opera and then goes off to shop for appropriate clothes.
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"After he arrived here, Wuthers didn't spend much time in the lodge. I told Eliza everything I know, and she should have told you. I haven't been to the Opera myself. I'm a little too old to be skulking around in basements or taking part in excavations. I never met the cleric Wuthers said he was working with."
He directs Tim and any others who wish it to a nearby clothier whom he trusts not to overcharge the pathfinders.
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Kastarr is happy to accept Venture-Captain Muesello's offer of guidance to a tailor shop. The ranger selects a suit of blue so dark it is near black. He picks a shirt of crisp white, but that will be worn under his trusty chain-shirt. The high society types can make what they will of the blued steel of his armor. Kastarr selects a signet ring from a jewelry store. He likes its engraved emblem: A dragonne, rampant.
Kastarr had purchased a silvered battle axe with the payout from the job before. That, along with the wayfinder on its chain around his neck, ought to be enough shine to dazzle anyone's eyes.
"Is there a temple to Irori in this town?" Kastarr queries the venture captain. "Seems the logical place to look for one of his priests..."
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Muesello thinks about it, and says, "It's not an official temple, but I think there's a small shrine in the Grandbridge district near the Arena, maintained by some former gladiators. If you hurry, you can probably make it there and back in time for the opera."
The baths are 9 silver per person (or animal). They are clean, not overly crowded, and pleasant.
Tim and Bertha arrive back at the lodge looking like reasonably well-to-do half-orc merchants. Kastarr looks a bit more fashionable, like a young nobleman.
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Kastarr visits both the shrine of Irori, and the baths. "I'll pass along your request if I meet a cleric of Irori." He tells the would be monks.
Before going to the opera he seeks out Venture-Captain Muesello. Could you store some items for me? I don't want to drag my full kit and work clothes to the show. Also wondering about my bow. Do folks bring weapons of that kind to the opera? If that would be unseemly, then I'll need to leave it in your safekeeping as well."
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The House of the Immortal Son has three public entrances, as well as a backstage entrance, an entrance reserved for nobility, and an entrance reserved for the king and his court. Unfortunately, two of the public entrances require a higher-class ticket than the one with which Society provided you. So in through the green door at the north end of the opera house you go. It is a plain, marbled hallway, filled with simple granite pillars, and the green carpet, indicating that it is for use by commoners, leads into the main floor of the house.
The doorway leads ahead of you as you walk in, with Taldan operagoers surrounding you, but giving you a bit of a wide berth, largely due to Fatham and his fearsome-looking follower. The guards at the entrance looked askance at the boar and the dinosaur when you presented your tickets, but the Society's bribes seem to have worked, as they ushered you and your "service animals", as they put it, into the building.
The plain-ness of the green entrance gives way to expensive carpets and ridiculously large candelabras and chandeliers. The opera house is opulent and expansive, with gold leaf covering every possible surface and velvet curtains everywhere. Looking out over the old-fashioned church pews that once seated Aroden's faithful but now seat those without the means to pay for a private box, you see the stage, and several other entrances. There is also a side door in the green entrance hallway.
The lights, magically controlled, are beginning to dim, signalling that it is time to take your seats.
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Kastarr stands and looks around, trying to spot all the ushers. He looks for restrooms as well. It would be a good excuse to leave his seat, and perhaps a way into the service area of the opera house.
Once the lights begin to go down he sits, not wanting to draw the notice and ire of the people behind him.
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The lights are dimming and the show is beginning momentarily. Leaving now would draw attention to you, especially if all of you were to leave at once.
Glancing at your programs, you can see that the opera is entitled, Among the Living, and is the epic tale of a lone Ulfen warrior named Victoria who sails to the ends of Golarion, crashes off the edge of the world, and finds herself in a gothic paradise where she falls in love with the undead queen of a jungle kingdom.
The opera begins, with melodramatic over-acting, gaudy costumes, and tastelessly bombastic and dissonant music.
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Fatham can't contain himself. This over-wrought display of civilization is exactly why he hates cities so much. Even he can't believe it.
"Isn't this a little TOO overacted and amateurish, even by the decadent standards of the declining empire of Taldor," he says aloud so that all his companions, and perhaps many patrons, can hear. "The music is off-key and mis-timed, the dancing is poorly done, and it seems almost like someone is whispering the lines to the actors from behind the scenes. Something about this doesn't seem right," he adds.
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Kastarr gazes at the show. They certainly never had anything like this in the small forest village where he grew up. He looks at Fatham, when the fellow gives his critique. Then disregards it. Old man doesn't even know enough to wash his filthy hide from time to time.
Kastarr contemplates trying to poke about behind the closed doors, but imagines they are probably locked. Perhaps an opportunity will present itself during intermission. If not he will have to make his move during the second act.
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As yet another twirling dancer in a brown costume festooned with bright pink, flowing silk scarves spins across the jungle set at the front of the stage, the orchestra reaches a screeching crescendo that crashes the entire opera to a halt. The dancers stand quietly for a moment, breathing heavily and listening to the scattered applause across the obviously bored Taldan audience. Suddenly, a sound like a thousand gongs shakes the entire building to its very foundation and the audience murmurs in a mixture of delight and fear. The actors and orchestra, however, flee the stage, disappearing behind the curtains.
Moments afterwards, as you try to determine what the meaning of this strange behavior might be, you hear a violent crash at the doors to the opera house. It sounds like a fight or someone trying to break through. You can also hear screams, growls, groans and thudding noises coming from beyond the doors.
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Kastarr grins at Fatham. Maybe the grubby old man is an art critic after all. "Yeah, intermission."
The ranger rises from his seat and hurries toward the stage. It will make a fair vantage point to rain arrows down from. Or, it's on the way to the same exit the actors used... Whichever seems wisest.
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Kastaar jumps up and runs up the middle aisle toward the stage, bypassing the many patrons who are beginning to stand up and exit their rows.
"What's going on?"
"You! Where are you going?"
"Pathfinders? You're pathfinders, aren't you? What is this?"
A babble of conversation is cut off sharply as several loud slams echo through the hall, followed by the door to the northeast smashing open, and in stagger nearly a dozen strange-looking, grey-skinned, humanoid figures with what look like open (but not bleeding) wounds all over their bodies.
As screams ring out around the house, several opera-goers draw weapons of their own -- mostly daggers -- and start fighting the creatures. Three of them are coming right up the aisle, heading towards you.
Initiative order:
Kastaar
Tim
Green
Red
Thergrom
Blue
Fatham
BABS