Commence to dotting. We'll get started once everyone has checked in at the Discussion thread.
Faction Missions are no longer given out, as of Season 5 of the Pathfinder Society. Soon, there will be Primary and Secondary missions for all the old adventures. But for now, you'll get full Prestige Points just for completing the mission and surviving to the end. That will be the basis for this game.
Nonetheless, I present you with the original Faction missions. You can do them or not as you will.
Warm greetings on this cold Desnu morn. This city’s chill and squalor does not agree with me, and each day I see the Council bow
to slavers and oppressors, my heart sickens. We must do better, we can do better. It all begins with you, my friend.
We have become interested in a man named Yargos Gill. Although he’s not much to look at, Yargos is an important voice
of the common man in Absalom’s underclass. He is well educated, but he prefers to live among the downtrodden in that
wasteland called the Puddles District. He’s also more virtuous than most give him credit for. The Eagle Knights of Andoran
have identified Yargos as important to Absalom’s future destiny as a free and independent state of the people. If you find Yargos,
above all, make sure you keep him alive. Please do your best to aid him thereafter, and secretly pass along the message that the
Eagle Knights will be there for him when he needs them. Purport yourself well and do nothing to besmirch our reputation as
beacons of freedom. One day Yargos will be vitally important to the future of Absalom. We wish you to gain his trust so as best
to aid him in his cause.
Many thanks for your assistance in this matter. As always, I am in your debt.
Sincerely,
Captain Colson Maldris
Asmodeus’s dark blessings upon you. Your service to his smoking altar does you great honor and advances the glory of Cheliax. Your
devotion has not gone unnoticed, and I must say I am intrigued by you. I have a task of dire import—I have chosen to entrust it to you.
Her Majestrix’s interest is piqued concerning the reports of strange undead roaming Absalom’s notorious slum—the Puddles
District. Early reports suggest that these strange mist-walkers are animated not by necromancy alone, but by the power of oaths given
during their former lives. Our diabolic patrons decree these strange undead merit further study, in case this knowledge leads to a
new source of power over mortal souls. Your mission is to obtain an intact skull of one of these undead assassins and secret it back to
Cheliax. You must also uncover just what was the oath that these undead killers took.
If you succeed, a slew of fresh souls will be tied to Asmodeus’s great purpose. As always, keep your mission in utmost confidence—tell
no one. Your service to the Dark One is best done in whispers and shadows. Report back to me when it is done, and I shall reward you,
perhaps with an invitation to my next exclusive party… or better yet, a private audience in the boudoir. I think I might enjoy that.
Achingly Yours,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen
Trade is such a fickle thing. It is like the tenacious relations of a man and woman: they touch, caress, and hope to form a lasting bond
borne out of a single night drunk on passion. Absalom is the best lover Katheer has known in a long while. Trade with the city keeps the
flow of gold into our Satrap’s coffers strong and steady. Sadly, a recent development jeopardizes this most profitable relationship.
Our agents suspect that the appearance of strange undead skulking through the mists of the Puddle District in Absalom bear
relation to an incident called the “Silent Tide,” a failed Taldan invasion plan. While the Silent Tide is Taldor’s embarrassing debacle,
the secret truth is that our satrapy also made a tidy profit off of the entire episode by supplying weapons to an outfit called Black
Echelon, the Taldan saboteurs hidden inside the city. At the time, this seemed a wise and profitable venture, paving the way for trade
with our often-enemies to the North.
It would be best if our part in this invasion stays buried. Given Qadira’s renewed economic interests in Absalom, it would be
embarrassing, to say the least, to be revealed as a historic enemy of the city. With your help, this embarrassment will remain Taldor’s
alone. Cover up the evidence of our involvement. If these specters still carry weapons from our lands, be sure to destroy as many
as you can. Do not draw attention to yourself by recklessly destroying them all. If you can make them all disappear,
quietly, that will serve our needs as well. As always, you will be compensated; the Satrap showers the loyal with gold.
Kind Regards,
Pasha Muhlia Al-Jakri
Your boots squash with fetid water as you plod through the Puddles. A thick fog hangs in the air, seeming almost to caress the flesh with an unnatural chill. As you stand outside the Soggy Piper in a foot and a half of brackish brine, you try to recall what was so damned important to demand your presence in the half flooded slum during Absalom’s rainy season. You remember your meeting at the Lodge just a few hours earlier with your Venture-Captain, Adril Hestram.
A bear of a man with only a few teeth remaining in his head, he motioned you into the meeting hall with a casual wave of his grizzled hand. The human captain outweighs most of Absalom’s half-orcs, and though a layer of beefy blubber coats his frame, those of you who have tangled with him in the Lodge sparring ring know that beneath this thin veneer of fat lies nothing but solid, steely sinew. Adril’s wild beard wags to the ponderous shake of his massive head as he examines a scrap of ancient parchment on the table before raising his eyes to greet your gaze and speaking:
“Come in then, friends, and thank you for answering my summons so swiftly. The society is in need. An old and quite penniless historian, a bespectacled wag-beard by the name of Yargos Gill has recently made a discovery in an old archive that we have a great interest in obtaining: an ancient codebook, left behind in the wake of one of Taldor’s many failed attempts at invasion. This several-hundred-year-old text would prove an excellent addition to our collection, and must be preserved."
“Yargos makes his home in ‘The Puddles,’ Absalom’s poorest district, suffering from a well-known reputation as a haven for lowlifes. Following an earthquake ten years ago, parts of the Puddles now rest below sea level, resulting in frequent and untimely flooding. Those who can afford not to live there—don’t."
“The district is the stomping ground of pimps, harlots, addicts, knifers, and hoards of unseemly derelicts. It’s never been a kind place, but recent reports reveal some new nameless terror on her waterlogged streets. Several persons claim to have seen cloaked, skeletal-like figures marching through an unnatural fog. Ill tidings indeed. Tracking down Yargos is now a priority—--lest some yellow-toothed thug cut him down, or one of these strange wraiths carry him beyond the pale. Find him, fellow Pathfinders, and find the codebook. Your exploits will be recorded in the Chronicles if you succeed.”
The memory fades as a fresh deluge of cold seawater rounds a bend in the lane and assaults your knees. After searching for Yargos at his favorite eatery, the Soggy Piper, you learned you just missed him. According to the Piper’s staff, a gang of dangerous young tattooed toughs arrived ahead of you. They grabbed Yargos and several of his friends from their dinner table and dragged them to a nearby cliff at the edge of the Puddle District. The watch was called, but they will arrive too late, as they often do in the Puddles, when they bother to venture there at all.
It is early evening, the first Wealday of the month of Desnus, an old man is about to face some awful fate at the sea cliff known as Torsen’s Maw, and you are no closer to finding the codebook Adril sent you for.
ACT I: THE DROWNING DEPTHS
Six brash young toughs covered with tattoos of vicious, snarling dogs are prodding four terrified older men off the edge of a cliff into the sea. The prisoners are shackled together in a line with heavy chains, which shall surely drag them to the sea floor in short order should they tumble from the cliff’s edge into the churning waters below.
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[The "beach" on that map is in fact a cliff 35' above the ocean. The prisoners are labeled 1-4, the thugs A-F. They look like they're just about to toss the prisoners overboard.]
Everyone roll initiative!
[dice=Ralklain's Init]1d20+3
[dice=Exitium's Init]1d20+2
Agreed. I'll put him on the map. Yes, he uses your initiative.
I've decided to roll the Perception checks myself as soon as the initiatives are in (and from now on I'll roll the initiative checks, too.) So, maybe there will be surprise, maybe not.
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Harlynne hurries into action, her lithe body not accustomed to the physical exertion that a run through the woods can bring. She pauses for but a moment to catch her breath. Her robes revealing, in what pleasant company would consider to be a little too much but then again she wasn't in pleasant company. The tattooes of her body draw your eyes in lines to where, perhaps, they shouldn't roam. Clearly there is more to this woman than a simple smile and too little fabric.
Initiative Order:
- Harlynne (21)
- Arilak (20)
- Jake (16)
- Ralklain (5)
- War Hounder Thugs (4)
No one is surprised, so this not is a surprise round. Everyone, go!
Harlynne rushes forward, throwing a glob summoned acid at one thug. The glob strikes the sand at his feet, hissing and popping as it dissolves the silica.
Jake charges the line of War Hounders, sweeping his greatsword down on one, driving it through his collarbone and crushing the ribs below. The man doesn't have time to scream before he dies in a spray of arterial blood.
Arilak, Ralklain, go!
Arilak's flail sweeps past the War Hounder's inexperienced parry and crushes his pelvis. The man dies in terrible pain. Meanwhile, Ralklain puts a crossbow quarrel through the eye of one thug while his eidolon Exitium slashes the throat from another with its massive paw.
Terrified, one bandit simply flees north and into the city, while his sole surviving ally hurls the first victim off the cliff. The man goes over the side screaming and his chains drag all the others with him. The last victim in line, a middle-aged man, manages to seize the edge of the cliff and arrest the fall of the others, but only momentarily. It is obvious he is about to lose his grip.
As the thug who did this tries to flee, Exitium seizes and disembowels him.
Anyone, go!
The four Pathfinders combine their efforts to pull the four battered and bruised victims up onto the cliff, where all lay gasping for breath.
"Thank you!" says one.
"I'm Gill,"pants another, an older man laying on his back. "Thank the gods you've come!"
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Harlynne catches her breathe for a moment and then stands, if only to appear to be in a more dominate position for negotiates.
The Gods have nothing to do with it. I signed a contract to get you and a book you recently found back to safety and that's all I am to do. The contract is what kept you and your friends alive. Thank Asmodeus.
Yargos Gill launches into his story as you try to break him free of his chains.
"Eight hundred years ago, a hidden armada of ships from Taldor floated off the coast of the Isle of Kortos like a thousand locusts, waiting for the signal to invade Absalom. The plan was simple, but deadly: When the misty weather of Desnus took hold, a fifth column of infiltrators known as Black Echelon would weaken strategic defense points and destroy Absalom’s warning system from within. Once their bloody mayhem was complete, the hidden saboteurs planned to signal the fleet, welcoming them to lay siege to a city now brought to its knees."
"Prearranged signal lights were prepared for each phase of the offensive. A red flashing light was the sign for Black Echelon to poison Absalom’s granary. A violet light with three pulses was the signal for a prearranged team to destroy the city’s bell towers, and so on. But when the mists of Desnus descended, the prearranged signal lights never appeared. Unbeknownst to the hidden strike teams, the leaders of the Black Echelon infiltration cell were discovered and assassinated by brave heroes of Absalom."
"The signal lanterns lay dark, and the rest of Black Echelon sat idle. Several hours later, the fleet’s hiding place was discovered. A quick counterattack by Absalom’s navy ambushed the would-be invasion force and Taldor’s armada was destroyed to the last mast. In the coming weeks, Absalom’s constabulary rooted out the remaining hidden members of Black Echelon and put every last one to the sword."
"The failed invasion mission, called the Silent Tide, would have amounted to little more than a cautionary footnote in a textbook of naval battles save for one crucial detail: Prior to entering Absalom, each member of the Black Echelon cell swore an ancient oath, known as the Binding Word."
"Black Echelon pledged to fulfill their duties, no matter the barrier, no matter the cost. And as recent events have begun to demonstrate, in this case, the power of the Binding Word compels these deadly saboteurs from beyond the pale."
"When I acquired a copy of the ancient codebook detailing the signals for the Silent Tide, I replicated them... on a lark. I soon watched in horror as Black Echelon rose from the dead and began to fulfill the tasks the spies swore to complete so very long ago. Even worse, the marines of the massive armada that now rest on the sea floor have also sworn the Binding Word. Once Black Echelon finishes its final task, the invasion force will rise and the Silent Tide will roll across the city, bringing death to all of Absalom!"
"Recognizing my own foolishness, I tried to alert the city and avert disaster. But before I could hurl the codebook into the sea to abort the Silent Tide once and for all, a young crime lord named Nessian intervened."
"Nessian had a 'better plan' for the codebook. He intends to manipulate the undead operatives and take advantage of the disruption their sabotage wreaks. As the bearer of the codebook, Nessian alone knows the lantern signal to abort. The codebook is his chance to blackmail the populace as he wishes and finally secure his place in Absalom’s underworld."
"Absalom is about to be invaded from beyond the grave. I'm afraid you're the only thing standing between Nessian and his lantern lights, before the launch of the Silent Tide."
The lock is weak, but holds up against Jake's assault nonetheless.
"I don't know exactly," says Yargos. "Somewhere in the Siphons, the sewers under the Puddles."
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Ralklain and Exitium move to break the locks in the chains of the four prisoners.
"So, it's not so dire as it could be. We may be able to stop the whole silent tide by defeating a single person. Anyway, we know nothing about him, right? Those six were his thugs?"
He looks to the rest of the prisoners:
"And who would you be?"
"They had the misfortune to be dining with me when Nessian's War Hounders came to take me," says Yargos. "They were being vicious and thorough, I suppose. Gentlemen, my sincere apologies for getting you into this."
The other men nod. Some grumble. Eventually, the Pathfinders manage to shatter their locks.
Just then, Gill's jaw drops. "Look!" he says, pointing to a red light flashing from a distant building deep within the city.
“Nessian!” shouts Yargos. “He’s signaling Black Echelon—the undead! Six flashes of red—I remember that signal… By the gods! That’s the granary! Nessian has sent those monsters to poison the granary! C’mon! I don’t know how, but we’ve got to stop them—we’re the only ones who know what’s happening.”
"I should come," says Yargos. "You may need help with that codebook if you find it."
ACT II: GUARDIANS OF THE GRAIN
"You know who might know more about Nessian's location?" says Yargos on the way to the granary, "There's an information broker in the Puddles named Grandmaster Torch. He'd know, if anyone would."
As you approach the granary, you find an eerie cold fog has suddenly descended on the adjoining streets and alley ways. When you arrive at the massive granary, you find the three guards posted to protect the food depot are already dead.
"Black Echelon intends to lace the city’s reserve grain supply with a foul and forgotten poison called Gut Wither," explains Yargos. "In the event of a siege, Absalom would be left without its granary and the city could face the threat of mass starvation in the coming months."
The doors, having already been forced open, swing in easily to reveal a large antechamber that smells sharply of grain dust. Two sets of large double doors lead further into the building. The set on the right stands ajar.
The team breaks into the lower floor of the granary. The four vast silos that hold much of Absalom's grain tower above them. Here on the lower floor are four large holding chambers into which the grain can be poured as needed.
All four rooms are covered in a thick sea of grain. In the eastern room, the blood trail gets fainter as it heads toward the open doorway to the northeastern silo. A thin, cold mist permeates the granary despite the warm night outside.
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