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A Kelish man with rigid posture enters the room. His comportment is not haughty, just self-disciplined. His facial hair and dress are those of a native of Sothis, though he pulls it off well. He wears the trappings of the Dawnflower. They are of fine make, but bear a touch of bleeching from the sun. At his hip is a scimitar held in an old leather scabbard. The scabbard has numerous nicks and stains on it, a strange contrast to the rest of his gear. His armor and shield are polished to a mirror-like finish. When he bows in greeting it is low and genuine. "Salom and salutations. I am Sareth Manudea, a High Priest of Sarenrae."
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A ruddy lookin' dwarf strides into the room, his beard a knarled mess, bedecked in a full suit of stoneplate, gleaming like marble, his helmet stands outs as what looks to be a large rock surrounds his head, bits of dust coast his wild eyebrows and beard.
Grunting at the seating arrangement present, he'll push some furniture around to make space and then pull out a folding chair from a bag at his side, flip it out and take a seat. Pulling a tankard off his belt, he'll open a second bag and pull a small tap out filling his tankard with foamy bit of ale.
"Saranrae eh, bunch of sun lovin' hippies. Me, Ai'm jus' a rock lovin', dirt eatin' Lord of Torag, but it's nice ta meet ya. Need a drink? Ai'm sure Ai gotta 'nother cup on me,"
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A tall, well built human, confidently strides into the gathering place. His features are decidedly Chelish, but for his hair which is sandy blond, implying some other far off lineage as well. His manner while confident, portrays humility too. His face reveals a young man, but his piercing blue eyes suggest experiences beyond his years. He wears a sly small smile and wears full plate armor, which is neatly shined and contains many small symbols of long swords bathed in holy light. A red and white cloak is clasped around his neck and his shield is similarly emblazoned with a large long sword also bathed in light. A shiny wayfinder is proudly displayed at his hip, next to two shearthed long swords. It takes little effort to recognize that he must be a follower of Iomedae, perhaps a paladin.
He quickly looks around the room taking in each face. He then bows deeply.
Pathfinders, well met, I am Boswick Bumbleberry and I am at your service.
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A scowling dwarf enters the room, his face covered half in beard, and half in burn scars. His clothes are plain, and he carries no visible armor or weapons, but his body is a slab of muscle. "Greetings. I pray I find you well."
Behind him follows a burly half-orc, who nonetheless strains under the weight of a heavy log which he carries with him.
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Alie clasps her hands in excitement when she hears of the briefing. The little gnome was practically vibrating with excitement as she talked about it. "I already have a fancy dress! I haven't been able to wear it during a mission in quite some time! His will be a great time away, I'm sure...," she describes, as she makes sure to keep most of her gear in her satchel, as any good Pathfinder agent should do.
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Sareth gives a magnanimous smile. "There is a certain benefit to being a High Priest; I can wear my armor and shield, for they bear the Light's symbol in this world. I'll be sure to polish it though."
Sareth's smile continues into a hearty grab of the forearm, "It's my honor and pleasure to meet you. I feel like I see some familiar faces."
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A cloaked figure stands in a corner of the gathering place, staring silently at the persons around, weighting whether or not he should speak. He really doesn't seem to enjoy Absalom's cheerful and excited atmosphere.
He eventually moves, even if slowly, and speaks with a low, rasping voice, bowing a little.
"I'm Tiller Voros, sent by the Bellflower Network. Pleased to meet you all."
Voros is rather small and if most of his flesh is hidden by an ample and dirty cloak, you can see his face, which is ugly and has a grey-red color. You also notice that his teeth are pretty sharp.
You can see a long tail that unfolds itself from time to time from under the cloak. The only weapon he seems to carry is a longbow.
He's happy to go to the shadows again after he spoke, eyeing Alie.
"Nice to work with you again, Storm-tamer." he says with a grin.
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As you make your way through the streets, a lean-faced man hiding behind a long cowl slips alongside. “A moment of your time,” he says and pulls you aside, into the shadows of a nearby alley. “It seems we have two things in common, an eagerness to participate in good celebration, and this…” He punctuates his sentence by holding out an elaborately carved wayfinder, the type only granted to Pathfinders of great importance. “I assure you, its mine,” he adds quickly, closing the device and tucking it back into the folds of his cloak with a quick, easy motion. Then he continues, “I know a good number of you are already planning to attend the festivities this evening. I need but a casual favor. An old associate of mine, Charvion Eater-of–Bones is set to make an elaborate display of some artifact he claims to have recovered. I’ve not had contact with him in a year or so, and I’ve a curious feeling about the event. More I cannot say; however, I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on whatever stunt he’s considering. He’s a natural charlatan that one. Just keep an eye out is all—nothing serious. Don’t let him know that you’re watching, and do not approach the artifact during the showing. Most importantly, tell no one of this conversation.”
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Boswick takes in the man speaking.
Sir, I'm Boswick Bumbleberry, I'll be glad to be at your service, if you'll be so kind as to share a few more details. As my friends have requested.
Then as an after thought comments, I can try to not let him know I'm watching, but I'm afraid I've never been great with subtly.
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Alie waves at Voros with both hands! "So good to see you again, Voros! Have you been sailing again since then?"
As the group is approached by the strange fellow, Alie smiles. "It's our duty to help a fellow Pathfinder. Just to be safe, though, will we still have time to attend the gala? It sounds like it will be really neat!"
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Oxirane believes the man's wayfinder to be completely genuine and the majority of the group believes him to be sincere.
The man turns around answering very little questions, except for one.
My name is Osprey.
he ducks in the shadowed alley, transforming into a small bird of prey and takes flight into the air.
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At the Irorium, you are assigned seats by tier as they enter. Lower tier groups are given mezzanine seats, while only those in your group are shown to the field level seats.
Irorium Layout (Exits and Seating) The Irorium has five public entrances, the main gate and four side gates. A sixth gate to the south is a work entrance reserved for gladiators, arena workers, and other performers.
Main Gate: The main gates face north. On the mezzanine level, a 20-foot-wide stone arch opens onto an equally wide marble stairwell that descends out onto the street. The stairwell corridor is 300 feet long. At street level, the corridor can be barricaded with a pair of barred iron gates.
Side Gates: There are four side exits, all connected to the mezzanine level. Each exit leads through a 20-footwide stone arch that opens to an equally wide marble stairwell, which in turn descends out onto the street. On the mezzanine level, the stairwell corridor is 300 feet long. The upper level stairwells are 500 feet long. At the street level, the corridor can be barricaded with a pair of barred iron gates.
Service Exit: The service exit is located on the arena floor, just behind the makeshift stage. Only Irorium workers and performers are permitted to use it; anyone attempting to pass through the doors without permits is denied. All would-be trespassers are sent off by a platoon of surly guards. Beyond the entrance, a main passage
connects to side chambers used by gladiators and arena workers. All creatures, gladiators, workers, and others involved with events use this route to gain access to the arena floor.
The Irorium has four seating levels. To avoid undue attention, the Society has provided the PCs with seats according to their stature, based on the group’s Tier status. The highest tier is proved with field level tickets. The remaining Tiers are provided with mezzanine level seats. Those with field tickets may sit anywhere. Those with mezzanine seats are permitted to sit anywhere in mezzanine or the three levels above. There are no specific assigned seats; seating is general and all seating consists of stone or wooden bleachers.
1. Field Seats: These seats are on the lowest level, closest to the ring. They are reserved for important and wealthy attendees. Field seats are accessible by descending staircases from the mezzanine level.
2. The Mezzanine: This level sits just above the field seats, though it is entirely separated from them. The mezzanine has a slight overhang that extends over the last two rows of field seats. These seats are open to the general public; however, they cost a couple of gold pieces apiece (depending upon the event), and thus their occupants tend to be middle and upper class citizens. The mezzanine is the central hub of the Irorium, providing access to all other levels as well as the most of the exits. It connects to five of the Irorium’s exits: the main gate and the four side exits. From the mezzanine, several sets of stairs climb to the upper levels as well as descend to the field seats.
3. Terrace: The Terrace consists entirely of open-air stone bleachers carved into the structure of the Irorium. The view of the field is still good enough to observe events. A terrace seat usually costs a few silvers. Stairs from the mezzanine provide access to the terrace.
4. Grandstands: This level consists of rickety wooden bleachers. Seats cost a few coppers, or are sometimes free, depending on the event. Stairs from the Terrace provide access to the grandstands
5. The Ledge: The top level of the Irorium is a broad, 15-foot-wide railed ledge that encircles the entire arena. It is so far away from the arena floor that it provides only a pitiful view of events below. Stairs from the grandstands provide access to the ledge.
The stadium seems to be abuzz as everyone awaits for the event to begin.
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As Alie normally does before anything, she casts Mage Armor which will last for 11 hours and False Life which grants her temporary hit points which will also last for eleven hours.
"Thanks For dinner, Sareth. Very refreshing. Compliments to the chef!"
Alie happily takes one of the field seats, plopping down first. "Have any of you ever been to a spectacle like this before? I've been to several operas in Oppara, but never anything like this."
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“Lore? Lore! Where are you?”
A brawny plain-faced woman wearing high-quality leathers accidentally bumps into Alie.
“Apologies, Mistress. But you haven’t happened to have seen my sister have you? She’s a gnome like you but with purple hair …”
“She’s fond of saying stuff like, ‘Blessings of Sarenrae on you this fine morning.’”
The girls leans into Alie speaking behind her palm. “Just between you and me, I think she mighta found religion!”
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"Lore? Sarenrae? Of course I know her! I've been on assignment with her a couple times as I remember. If the religion makes her happy, more power to her! Tell her I was asking about her, would you? My name is Alie!"
"And how have you been missy? Your sword arm still cutting through the baddies like butter?"
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Uh oh! Stranger danger!
“Well, yeah … Most recently it was Shadow Lodgers in Varisia. But truthfully, I’ve been using my blade’s flat on them.” The warrior frowns. “They’re still like, Pathfinders? Right?”
The girl sighs at another dead-end, but can’t help smiling as the sorcerer’s enthusiasm is infectious!
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Glad for positive confirmation of the Pathfinder anomaly, know as Osprey, Boswick is more than willing to keep an eye on Charvion Eater-of–Bones.
He is happy to partake of the provided food. The paladin's face turns red as the heat from the spice hits him; it more than his normal bland diet would allow. Yet he keeps his composure.
Thank you Sareth.
Boswick will also take an available seat as they enter the field level.
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I have to admit, Rogar, I'm not really that up on my Absalom history. I saw a little of what the place was like thousands of years ago, firsthand, when Kreighton sent us all back in time with the Sky Key, lots of lizard men around back then. I've poked around a couple of those ruined siege towers here on the island before. But don't really know much about how it all occurred. So this should be interesting. Not even sure when the first siege took place, I'm not real good with dates.
Boswick reflects on some of his past missions, as he chats with Rogar.
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