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ou have all been summoned to Skyreach, on the grounds of the Grand Lodge in Absalom. Seated behind a large, antique desk in his wood-paneled office, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin looks up from the pile of papers before him and shuffles them to one side. “Perfect timing! Welcome Pathfinders!"
“I had an interesting conversation with the Master of Spells Aram Zey yesterday. An old friend—Lady Darchana, Archdean of the Arcanamirium here in Absalom—contacted Master Zey. She’s a councilmember on the Low Council, too. It seems her dinner party last week had an unexpected guest: a handmaiden of her fancy guest’s had picked up a scrying sensor somewhere. When Lady Darchana learned that someone was attempting to eavesdrop on her party, she used her magic to trace the sensor back to its source. It sounds as though she didn’t learn anything conclusive, and she’s interested in bringing in an independent party to try and learn more. Master Zey agrees."
“Make no mistake, this is an excellent opportunity for you to impress a well-connected friend of the Society. Lady Darchana requested that the Pathfinders call upon her at her estate in the Petal District once they learn something of the origins of this servant. The owner of the handmaiden is named Lady Silviana Dimora. Lady Silviana isn’t a councilmember or the like—at least not yet. From what I understand, though, she is an up-and-comer who is rubbing elbows with all of the right people, and she likely has little knowledge of where the slave was purchased. I recommend speaking to her majordomo Milana about the handmaiden, or you can pay a visit to her solicitor, a Chelish fellow named Salbus over in the Coins. Questions?”
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Hudor is a tall, lean man with dark hair with sapphire blue eyes. He wears a loose fitting shirt with tight leather pants and knee high boots. He has a spear that he leans on while listening to the Venture-Captain. A crossbow hangs from his back comfortably.
"So some political espionage was going on at Lady Darchana's party. Should we try to keep a very low presence during our investigation to not stir up any political hornet nest?"
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"The Overflow Archives." Goldur had written the title before putting down a single word of the story. Never a more aptly-named place, he thought with a smile as he finished writing his account. He rolled up the pages and fastened them together, storing them in his writing-desk.
A few days later, the old dwarf finds himself in Skyreach, having received a summons from Venture-Captain Valsin for another Society mission. He's wearing his studded leather armor (more comfortable than his plate mail) and buckler (easier to use than larger shields), with his two hammers hanging at his belt (the weapons that had given him his namesake in his younger years) and his adventuring pack.
"Always happy to help the Society, venture-captain. I hope the girl hasn't been punished-- it's possible she didn't know what the sensor was. Did Lady Darchana say where her magic traced it to?"
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A broad-shouldered dwarf stands in the room. A large runecarved axe is on his back, and a flagon in his hand. He nods at Hudor, having recently sold some of the brewer's ale to a tavern in the Westgate district. He has a broad smile and walks with a bit of a swagger.
"Well, yes, a mage of Lady Darchana's renown would naturally have a Detect Scrying up. Foolish to even make the attempt. I agree that speaking with this majordomo about the slave would be productive. Poor girl; slavery is an awful thing.
Does Lady Darchana think she was the target of this espionage personally? Or might there have been another guest at the party who was the target?"
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"Oy oy oy."
Another dwarf enters the room groaning audibly, rubbing his temples. He's dressed in studded leather with a short sword belted to his waist. He produces a bar of soap and cracks a piece off at the corner and pops the piece into his mouth. Chews. He looks up, startled that he's in the right place. When he speaks, soap filings tumble to the floor and a clean, sterile smell wafts throughout the room.
"Wha--Wha's this now? Not one, but TWO kin 'ere?! Must'a been somethin' in that ale last night. Seein' double now am I? Well, don't you worry on that. Old Kranzer can disable two traps as fast as one, eh!"
Something connects in his rambling brain and he remembers what the Venture Captain had said.
"Aye, les talk to this 'Milana' for a spell. Nuh so loud though, eh? Nuh so loud. Oy oy oy."
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Jarlaxle raises an eyebrow.
"Ah, political espionage, right in the heart of Absalom politics. How positively delicious!"
He pauses thoughtfully for a moment.
"What can you tell us, if anything, about Lady Darchanna, Lady Silviana, the lawyer, and the majordomo? Additionally, what can you tell us about the slave?"
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"My understanding is that Lady Silviana already left for Oppara two days ago. It seems Lady Darchana is trying to avoid turning this into a public debacle by working through intermediaries and not alarming other nobles, and Lady Silviana’s recent departure may even be to ensure her safety and silence on the matter. Of course, that’s an educated guess. Unfortunately, I have no further information on the others. It is up to you to determine what is going on here."
"As for the scrying, I hear that she learned may have learned something further, but nothing definitive. You had best ask her yourselves. Lady Darchana is expecting you afterall, but with solid information. Do not disappoint her, or embarrass me by showing up empty-handed. Well I have other matters to attend to. Good luck to you." The Venture-Captain stands up behind his desk and motions you out the door.
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An 8-foot-high fieldstone wall surrounds Lady Silviana Dimora’s estate. The grounds are recently tended with thick, soft grass, several well-placed shade trees, and many species of flowering plants. Directly in front of the manor house is a pond with several large lilies and a lion-shaped marble fountain that bubbles gently. Members of the household staff entreat you all to relax in a parlor furnished with plush blue couches and chairs, as they fetch some tea.
After a few minutes, a stern-looking woman with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, greets you. "My name is Milana and I am the majordomo of the household. I would like to apologize to all of you for coming here today, as Liday Silviana is not available to take unscheduled meetings at this time. You are more than welcome to schedule an appointment with her in the near future." As she finishes speaking, she motions towards the door, as if asking you all to leave.
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Jarlaxle smiles, and gives a formal bow.
"I understand that you are busy, and that your Lady may not be available, but perhaps you could spare us some time? We have been ask (completely unofficially, of course) to look into the matter of the scrying sensor attached to your lady's handmaiden.
I appreciate that this is a politically potentially very damaging situation, which is why we are doing this unofficially - that way, the fall out is minimal. Truly, we have your patron's best interests at heart, here."
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"Sorry for the delay my friends. The directions I was given were off."
Says a tall broad human in scalemale with a large shield on his back and an axe on his side.
"Hope I havent missed much. I was told to meet you here after I didnt meet you at the lodge."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Milana shakes her head with a deep sigh, touching her hand to her forehead. “I can tell you only wish to help, so I will tell you what I can. Yes, Lady Darchana’s dinner party. What an embarrassment for Lady Silviana. Can you imagine being told that your handmaiden is some sort of… well… spy? Dreadful. The woman’s name is Atlag, and she has been here for almost three weeks! Three weeks! When I think of the private conversations that happened in front of Atlag? It makes me ill, honestly ill.”
Composing herself, Milana continues, “Lady Silviana retains a solicitor, a Chelish gentleman named Solvius Salbus. He works out of an office in the Coins called the Red Letter. He drew up the paperwork for my Lady to complete the transaction on Atlag with a man named...” She wags her pointer finger a few times, shaking her head as she tries to recall the name. “Mahdi Mahjub. No, Mahjub Mahdi! He does his business down in Misery Row, of course. It’s a small shop with several large windows to allow passersby to see into his display parlor from the street. ‘Mahdi’s Chattel: Absalom’s Finest,’ so the sign claims. Honestly, I think every third building in Misery Row claims to be ‘Absalom’s Finest.’ I wonder how many spies like Atlag he’s sold over the years? It’s a dreadful, dreadful business. I am not sure there is anything else I can tell you, but I am sure you understand my Lady’s desire to move on from this embarrassment? Good? Yes? Thank you.”
“Before you leave though, perhaps I can ask for a favor of you. You seem to possess a keen understanding of how things work in Absalom, so perhaps you might be willing to perform a small service for my Lady. It would be unheard of for Lady Silviana to demand recompense for her handmaiden purchased from Mahjub Mahdi; however, were you to secure such a deal, it would be gracious gesture that might lead to a budding friendship, don’t you think? And should he refuse you, who were you to ask in the first place?” She shrugs her shoulders and frowns slightly.
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"Indeed, Kranzer. As an upstanding member of the merchant community myself," "it is my duty to...encourage...this Mahdi to conduct himself in such a manner."
The dwarf thinks a minute. "I don't know the law as it applies to his business that well, but if he is doing anything untoward, that may be cause for shutting down his business and freeing any slaves in his possession, praise Cayden."
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Salbus's office is located in the Coins District, located on the ground floor of a recently rebuilt two story building that houses several different professional offices and merchants. A small plaque with an Asmodean pentacle and an inscription reading “Red Letter— Solicitor Salbus” hangs outside.
Jarlaxle's honeyed tongue gets Salbus to open up about the deal he brokered for Lady Silviana easily enough, and confirms what you already know. “Ordinarily I would not speak of privately executed contracts with an unaffiliated third party,” Solvius says before patting a folded paper on his desk. “However Lady Silviana had a letter delivered to me prior to her departure for Taldor, authorizing me to disclose to the deputized agents of Lady Darchana the identity of the chattel merchant. Mahjub Mahdi is the purveyor in question and can be found at the northern end of Misery Row. His private shop is called Mahdi’s Chattel. It’s a step up from the Slave Pits to be sure—a much more orderly experience, a very fine display parlor with excellent lighting, and he always keeps excellent wines on hand. I trust you will treat him with the respect that he deserves.”
Misery Row is an enormous, elevated platform that runs along the eastern edge of the Coins district, and serves as the main destination to buy and sell slaves in Absalom. The cages are set into the platform such that slavers and prospective buyers can walk over the pits to inspect the merchandise easily. Mahdi’s Chattel is located along the platform, where his many-windowed storefront can catch the eye of discerning buyers. The massive wooden platform is well worn by foot traffic, and is active all hours of the day and night. The Token Guard, the guards responsible for patrolling this part of the city, intervene only in particularly egregious crimes or those they’re paid to investigate. As a result, petty criminals have numerous opportunities to ply their craft.
A hanging sign identifies the single-story building with large, full-length windows as “Mahdi’s Chattel— Absalom’s Finest.” Heavy curtains are drawn over all of the windows—one of which has been smashed—and a small painted sign that reads “Closed” hangs over the latch of the door. The door is not completely closed and shows signs of scratches and damage to the wood around the latch.
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"I hear nothing but if you insist then we must let no harm come to him"
With warhammer and shield ready kevtiln enters the building
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Kranzer says, "Aye, les get in there."
"Well those ears aren't fer nothin', eh?" he says to Jarlaxle.
Kranzer draws his shortsword and follows the others in.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Mahdi’s Chattel is pleasantly decorated. An Andoren rug lies over the polished wooden floor of the entryway, and a small decorative table holds a curious stone statue. The eastern half of the room is in slight disarray, apparently from light renovations that are nearly complete.
The stone statue stands almost 2 feet tall, and has simian features, massive horns, and a long tail. The windows have been smashed, and broken glass lies on the floor and on the desk on the opposite side. The work table in the center of the display parlor conceals a heavy, polished stone with a 4-inch-diameter steel ring attached to the top, providing an anchor for manacle chains.
You can hear two men shouting at each other through the door, and from the sound of it, someone is looking for money.
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Kranzer, the familiar weight of his shortsword in his hand again, crouches down in the corner.
He whispers, "Aye, we might be in for a scrape 'ere. Best be ready for anything. Criminal sorts are unpredictable...not like I'd know or anything, just y'know, ya hear things."
He bites off another corner of his bar of soap to stop talking.
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This large office doubles as a private parlor for Mahjub Mahdi to conduct his legal but objectionable business. The room’s furnishings consist of a round table with two comfortable chairs, a desk with a metal-banded strongbox beneath it, and a refreshment cart. Two paintings hanging on the north wall both depict the bustling harbor of Katheer.
Several smashed bottles of wine lie on the floor next to the refreshment cart, and a large half-orc holds a bearded Keleshite man off the ground by his fine-spun tunic. Two humans armed with short swords stand near the door, and hold out their hands, motioning you to stop and not come any further. The half-orc turns towards the door and snarls at you, while still holding the man "Who the f@$% are you? You best get the hell out of here and mind your own damn business. Didn't you see the sign on the door? Don't make me ask twice!"