Dot in here!
Start date is OCTOBER 6th! Please be ready to start on that day.
After a hurried summons to the Grand Lodge in Absalom, a quick conversation with Venture-Captain Alissa Moldreserva, and a wet, stormy trip across the Inner Sea to Andoran, the small, warm Pathfinder Lodge in Augustana is a welcome break from travel. “I can’t believe we are wasting our time on this matter,” says Caudron Wallace, the venture-captain of Augustana as he paces the main hall. “Frankly, I want as little to do with it as possible, so I’m passing it on to you.” Wallace nods toward a door at the back of the room. "The vagrant through there was found collapsed on our front steps gripping a wayfinder of all things. We still don’t know who he is. Talk to him, for the tale he tells is amazing if true, and then come back here.” As you begin to ask questions, he silences you with a wave of his hand. "Please, speak with him first. We can discuss whatever you have to say afterwards."
As you enter the room at the back of the main hall, you find a small sitting room with six comfortable chairs and a few bookshelves filled with the latest Pathfinder Chronicles. An old, withered man sits in one of the chairs, half-dozing when you enter. His skin is shockingly pale and his features are sharp with high cheekbones and a jutting chin.
|
An unkempt old man in a tattered, but armor reinforced, coat mutters to himself as he enters the room. He carries a large shield, upon which is written seemingly thousands of equations, graphs, poems, graffiti, etc.
Damn fools don't know what's coming. Perhaps this is another herald of She-It-He, and we can compare notes on how to send they-it back beyond the stars from whence it-they-he came. Naaah, probably just another vagrant with a wild story to tell.
Well, I like the look of this one better than the last. Seems like a fine, upstanding fellow.
He addresses the poor wretch.
See here, good man, tell us your story. Be quick about it! We don't have time to waste.
Only 10,000 years until They-He-It arrives. It will not be enough! We must master the arcane magic I have foreseen - this "Tekk Null O'gee" -- if we hope to have any chance against it-she-they. Perhaps this will finally be the clue that leads me to it.
|
A tall, sturdy woman listens patiently to the venture captain, looking terribly out of place amongst the other Pathfinders. She wears a tanned shirt covered in countless stains, the sleeves cut off to reveal strong, muscled arms. A tattoo of a smoking cooking pot adorns her bicep, and across her back is a pack that clangs full of cookware. An apron is tied around her waist, filled with various spices, and her chocolate covered pants are tucked into tall, beige boots. Her brunette hair is pulled back into a ponytail, a bandana over her head to keep her hair out of her face.
When the venture captain finishes his briefing, the woman nods, gives an approving "Aye, sir, and steps back into the room.
When she steps in and sees the dozing man, she scurries over, pans clanging quietly. "Ya look like you haven't eaten in days lad, wake up." The woman gives his face a few gentle slaps. "C'mon now, up up. Can't sleep the rest of your life away. Want some grub? Old Nan always has a bit of food on her." She begins reaching around in her pack, seemingly uncaring as to whether the man has even begun to respond.
|
An older man walks in the room. He has an energy which is abnormal for a man of his age. On top of his head is a white wig, which shifts each time he makes a quick movement. A pig follows behind his heels, several steps behind.
Why would the Society send us so far for a common drunkard? Interesting.
The man approaches the sleeping man, walking up beside Nan. "Hello, sir. We would like to speak with you."
If the man does not awake immediately, Barbo delivers a swift, but weak, kick to the man's foot.
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
Mort stands in the front of the room as he listens to the Captain give a quick briefing to the group "All this way and..." He starts to ask before Caudron waves him off and points to the back room. He's got some nerve, lucky for him I'm working...
Mort moves to the back room with the others, his tall, powerful frame standing with an air of confidence as he goes, preferring to lead the way. His tattered cloak does little to cover a fine breast plate laden with scratches and score marks made from what looks like large teeth. A long greatsword partially covered with a serrated edge is strapped across his back, along with an oversized backpack covered in more strapped weapons, waterskins, and a bedroll. He's obviously well prepared for travel in the wilderness.
As the others begin speaking to the old man he stands with his arms across his chest, focusing on him with his intense stare, something you noticed him doing with you all as you talked about the mission on the boat ride here. If these guys can't get him to talk I'll use a more direct approach. I don't want to be in Andoran all month! This place is lousy with blowhards.
Studied Target (Ex): A slayer can study an opponent he can see as a move action. The slayer then gains a +1 bonus on Bluff, Knowledge, Perception, Sense Motive, and Survival checks attempted against that opponent, and a +1 bonus on weapon attack rolls and weapon damage rolls against it. The DCs of slayer class abilities against that opponent increase by 1. A slayer can maintain these bonuses against only one opponent at a time; these bonuses remain in effect until either the opponent is dead or the slayer studies a new target.
The multitude of sudden attempts to rouse him work admirably as the ragged man jerks awake. Despite his incredibly filthy visage, matted white hair, and infirmity, he regards you all with a look of absolute, confident superiority.
"My loyal subjects, welcome! I know that some of you might not recognize me in my current state, but it is truly me, Gandros, the long-lost Prince of Augustana. I have been in hiding since the untimely death of my father, the Emperor, preparing for my return to glory. Unfortunately, I bear ill news. The army I have been gathering in the otherworld has been infiltrated by agents of our enemies. When last I called my forces together for inspection, dark assassins attacked me and I barely escaped with my life," he admits darkly as he rolls up his sleeve, revealing a series of recently inflicted claw and tooth marks on his right forearm.
"I'll take a meal, my beloved subject, you show an exceptional manner of foresight for your majesty's needs! But please, regard me with honor appropriate to my station," he says before launching into his recollection of prior events.
“I fled back through the magic portal to this realm. Grievously wounded, and with the assassins in close pursuit, I leapt into the dark river. I floated past the Almsman’s Sanctuary, but couldn’t climb out of the water. I did manage to grab one of the bridges, but a plank fell in with me. I held on for dear life and continued to drift downstream. I went over a waterfall and then emerged in the lake of ships and crawled to shore. Augustana has changed since I last walked my city’s bright streets, but I managed to find this house, bearing the symbol of my father’s empire.” He holds up the wayfinder hanging from a chain around his neck. “I knew I would find help here! If you remove the threat from my kingdom below and help restore me to my rightful place as Emperor of Andoran, I will grant you any boon within my power!”
You believe that he is telling the truth.
|
|
"You hit your head on something dear? You're talking like a madman." Nan reaches into her pack and pulls out a piece of bread, spreads something on it from her pouch, and passes it to the man. "Ya don't seem to be making much sense, but go on. Where's this threat at, what do you need us to do for you, 'sir?'"
|
|
This guy's got a hell of a story, and a poker face to go with it...
Mort clears his throat a bit to grab the man's attention "My good Sir. Let me be the first to congratulate you on your escape and good fortune. Its not often the likes of Mort Gloomhollow takes up such a mission, but today is your lucky day." He steps forward and reaches his hand out in greeting.
Maybe this crazy coot is who he says he is, or maybe I'm a terrible judge of character. Hold that, I KNOW I'm a bad judge of character... s~!~.
He nods at Old Nan "Like she said, we're going to need a bit more information to go on, and a plan of a attack. What did you say it was that attacked you? And what 'realm' are you talking about exactly? I'm not much of a world traveler..."
|
|
Barbo thinks hard, working to recognize the description of the route the 'king' travelled.
Barbo adjusts his wig, and does his best to sound serious. "Prince, what do you need from us to return you to your throne?"
If the Society believed in him enough to send us, I guess we should take him seriously.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"I understand that you may not interact with nobility as often as you soon will have, Mort, but "Sir" is simply not enough. "Your majesty", "Your Highness," and any other honorific of similar caliber is of acceptable respect," he lectures as he lets Mort take his hand and looks at you expectantly. Anybody experienced or trained with reading people can tell that Gandros is expecting Mort to kneel and kiss his hand in reverence.
"Straight to the point, the makings of an excellent servant to the new King! Pay attention to this one, my citizens, for he is destined for greatness!" he declares as he points a finger at Barbo." First, you must find my would be assassins and dispose of them. Second, expose the traitors within my networks. Third, build my armies and political standing. Fourth, stand by me as I remove the unlawful rulers of Augustana from their seats of power! I trust you all can travel to the otherworld and do all this for me? That Wallace fellow said he would be able to help you all to help me, so any shortcomings you may have should be inconsequential, unless they are with concern to your morales. Then I will have you leave this room immediately for I have no time to waste with liars, traitors, and the like."
His story doesn't ring any bells for you as far as the route he took, but you do recognize the Almsman's Sanctuary as a place where beggars are rumored to go for shelter and food, though it's location isn't publicly known.
|
|
Wow, that is quite the ask...
Barbo bends a knee, and replies. "Your highness, what proof of your lineage can you give us? Of course we believe you, but weaker minds may doubt your true heritage."
Barbo listens patiently, then asks another question. "As for your assassins, how do we find them?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
Mort takes a step back as the Prince was too high and mighty to shake his hand like a real man. "I've got nothing further to ask, we should speak with the Captain when you're all done." Spoiled royal brats, the lot of 'em! Lets see them learn to live without money and power!
Mort heads back to stand in the doorway waiting for the others to finish, doing his best to keep his temper in check.
|
|
Nan watches Mort return to the doorway, then looks back at the "prince." Ol' spooks has it right, this lad doesn't have a lick of manners.
She stands up and walks over to the entrance to the room, deciding to spend the time double-checking her gear while the more diplomatic of the bunch deal with his royal spoiledness.
"My faithful servant, I have this!" he says as he displays a Wayfinder with the Glyph of the Open Road upon it. His face is beaming with pride. "As I said before, it is the symbol of my father's empire. I guarantee there will be historians in this very building who can prove as much, beyond all reasonable doubt! Seeking them out now may be to your benefit, you never know when a potential ally will appear!"
Gandros takes a seat again in his chair. "You have your tasks! Return to me after you have completed each one, for there are things I must also do and the timing must be perfect!" With nothing more to say to his most humble servants, he waves you off and gets more comfortable in the chair.
|
|
Mort nods in agreement with Lara "All of us could be Princes here if that's all it took." He cracks his necks a bit and adjusts his greatsword as he thinks "You know, that crazy old coot sure does remind me of Dreng back in Absalom. You know he stood around out in the rain pretending to be a beggar for my first mission? Told me to go get him a bottle of wine..."
|
|
Barbo nods respectively and backs away from the vagrant. He whispers to the group. "Well, I suppose we better go outside and talk to Caudron. Maybe he has more specific orders for us."
-Posted with Wayfinder
After you retreat out of the room, you find Venture-Captain Wallace leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.
“He is something else, eh? My diviners say that there is some truth to his story. There has never been a Prince of Augustana, nor an Emperor in Andoran, but the old fellow has a surprising amount of knowledge of the pre-revolution noble families of the city. He may be the lost scion of some noble line. If so, he’s fallen far. From the filth and stink on him when we found him, we’re fairly certain he’s been living in or near a sewer. The wayfinder is also a mystery, but for now, it makes him one of ours. However, I’m more interested in his supposed gate to the otherworld. If it exists, I want to know about it. Implausible as it may seem, I’m certain that his injuries were caused by otherworldly beings. We must take the possibility of a portal seriously. I don’t want to dirty my hands with this, but you don’t have that choice. Retrace the old man’s path through the sewers. The Almsman, whom he repeatedly mentions, is rumored to be an eccentric priest who runs some sort of hidden beggar’s sanctuary in the sewers. He may know where our prince’s portal is, if you can find him. But be warned; a local gang calling themselves the Steel Wyverns claims the sewers near the Almsman’s Sanctuary as their own territory.”
Waving you all a little closer, he puts his finger on a map pinned to the table. "This is most likely to be the sewer outlet from which Gandros came. It’s near the north end of the Augustana harbor, where the north harbor wall hits land. Any questions?"
________
|
|
"Crazy old coot for sure, but it sounded like he was telling the truth to me." Mort leans over to check out the map "Tracking, sewers... local thugs... now that's more like it. The Society can't send me on a mission unless it involves some turd tunnels. Lets hope my stomach tightened up after that boat trip."
On the way Mort turns to Barbo "So.. Barbo... You never mentioned on that entire boat trip over here how your skin turned blue.. what's going on there man?"
|
|
Thank goodness. If he was a real Prince, this may have been above my pay grade.
Barbo looks to the senior Pathfinder. "Do we have any more information on this gang?"
After the information session, Barbo turns to Mort and chuckles lightly. "Ah, I thank you sir! Many people assume I am among the Samsaran. Alas, my blue skin is simply a by-product of a spell gone wrong. Never try to brew a love potion! It simply does not turn out well."
The Steel Wyverns were once the most powerful criminal organization in the city, but they have been in decline for decades. Now they are a rag-tag gang of thugs and petty crooks. The wyverns prefer to fight with longspears, which they call “Wyvern stings.”
The Almsman has recently started providing sanctuary and assistance to the city’s beggars. He is a mysterious figure who wears a mask, but most folk believe he is a priest. Most of the city’s poor do not know where his sanctuary is—those who do know won’t tell.
The Steel Wyverns were once the most powerful criminal organization in the city, but they have been in decline for decades. Now they are a rag-tag gang of thugs and petty crooks. The wyverns prefer to fight with longspears, which they call “Wyvern stings.”
The Venture-Captain grins a little. "Like I said, I want nothing to do with this and leave it up to you! I'm sure you can find an entrance to your liking! I've never heard of the gang, must not be too well known. Or powerful, for that matter. Frankly, there is not much more for me to tell you. At this point you are better off just investigating for yourselves! Good luck to you Agents." he says and walks off to attend to other matters more worthy of his time.
________
|
|
On the way out the door, Barbo speaks up. "I remember something I read about this area. The Wyverns used to be a big thing. But they're petty thieves now. They are known to fight with longspears, however. Does anyone have long weapons to fight them with?" He looks around curiously. "Well, I won't be getting near them."
"As for where to start, I know the Almsman wears a mask, like a Razmiran priest. Let's keep an eye out."
Mort leads the group confidently to the docks. While the salty smell of the sea is ever present in the port town of Augustana, the wetness of ocean spray, and the grit from traces of sand in the wind assail your senses as you travel among the docks.
After an hour of searching, the Herald and Mort are able to locate the only sewer pipe that makes logical sense as far as the story you were told and the location you are given. The initial rush of excitement fades as a new, gag-worthy scent digs into your nose and settles in your mouth. The circular opening to the sewer pipe is ten feet across and an impressive variety of effluvium courses out of it. To your even great dismay, there does not appear to be any way through without wading through the five foot deep flow...
________
|
|
"Longspears you say? That's not good, well, its good once you get close and they can't use those spears anymore, let them come to us and pepper them with arrows if they want to wait on us!" He gives a bit of a face when Barbo mentions the priest wears a mask "Don't they realize that's down right creepy? Not that creepy isn't fun once and a while..." He chuckles a bit and smiles.
Mort looks at the sewer pipe and shakes his head "There's no way this gang of thieves swims up this pipe to get in there, that's some vile s&&+. Lets have a look around to find someone that may know more..."
Mort will look around the general area for any 'locals' that seem to be around "We've got business with the Wyverns, and ain't no way we're swimmin through that s#&$ pipe, so best you show us the other way in if you wanna keep those few teeth you got left."
|
|
Barbo, resigned to his fate, begins to mutter as he takes off his robe. "Join the Pathfinder Society. Delve into forgotten tombs. Find and restore lost treasures. Be an adventurer. Swim in a sewer..."
Under his dark purple robe is a faded undershirt and tan shorts. Sticking his robe in his back pack, he shrugs his shoulders, embarrassed. "Well, I'm dressed in my finest of sewer wading wares. Y'all ready?" Then, in a hopeful tone, "Unless you found another way, Mort!"
-Posted with Wayfinder
As you all resign your fate to delving into the sewerpipe, Mort pulls a sailor into a nearby alleyway. A little bit of roughhousing and quiet but forceful words later, you see the same sailor tossed back out of the alley and heading back the way he came. Confidently, Mort comes back a hero: there is a maintenance shaft a short way down the street that the pipe runs under!
Using the pipe's end and the street above it as an approximate route, you are easily able to discover what looks like a cellar door in an alleyway. Neatly carved into the frame of the door is the phrase, "Maintenance Entrance." Taking a peek, you see a ladder descend into darkness...
________
|
|
Mort heads back to the group and waves them onward "Put your clothes back on Barbo before you scare the ladies here. Follow me, there's another way up here." He heads up the street a bit and opens a door.
"Anyone got a light? Looks like I forgot to replace my sunrods from my last 'business' engagement. Barbo maybe?" He takes a look around the doorway to see how often it seems to be used, and if there are any 'surprises' waiting for them once he gets some light.
|
|
Barbo, elated, runs towards Mort in an old man gait. His arms held out, he is about to hug Mort when he stops short. "Well... I suppose I better put pants on first." He walks away, humbled.
After returning his robe to its proper place, he follows the others to the maintenance door. I feel giddy. Like a small child. How I hate swimming through... well. That.
Taking up the rear of the party, he mutters something under his breath and touches his pig's collar. It shines like a torch, lighting the rear of the party.
-Posted with Wayfinder
You aren't able to tell how long the passage has been here, but the signs of use appear to be what you'd expect from such an entryway.
Freshly dressed and emotions running high, you are all able to safely scale the ladder without major incident. The ladder reaches a floor about 20ft down and turns into a brief hallway. While nowhere near as strong as the odors you recently experienced, the unmistakable stench of sewage gently clings to the wet air here. Bits of moss and the occasional crop of mushrooms litter the floor and walls.
At the edge of your torch light, the hallway dips into a lowering darkness. Perhaps a set of stairs? Those of you standing near the front hear the faint sound of water flowing at a languid pace.
________
|
|
Mort simply holds up a large hand attached to a long arm with a gauntlet on the end of it in a very obvious and very serious 'stop' signal when Barbo comes charging forward naked "You're welcome, lets leave it at that."
He heads down the stairs and once he reaches the bottom, draws out his great sword "This is Mindy, be nice to her and she'll be nice to you. Otherwise.." He leaves the obvious to your imagination as he slowly stalks forward, checking for signs of passage on the floor.