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You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission of utmost importance. Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city limits.
As you approach the meeting place, a hooded, hunched beggar bumps into Althera and holds out his palm, "Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?"
A moment later, the figure doffs his hood and you realize this senile face must be Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng, "Sorry about that. I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here . . .?"
Dreng scratches himself in several places before continuing, "Ah, yes, the Wounded Wisp! I'm undercover now and can't stray far from here, so I need someone to retrieve a bottle of wine for me from that fine, fine establishment. It's one of Absalom's most storied taverns, you know, and one that holds a special place in the hearts and lore of the Pathfinder Society.
"The bartender is a woman named Heryn Gale, a fine, fine lady who inherited the Wisp after her father passed away from--oh, bah, I'm going to break my cover giving you a history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp and tell Heryn you're there to pick up my bottle of wine, it would be most appreciated. I'll be around here for several hours at least, but try to hurry."
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"Hey, The Wisp: always wanted to visit there." The big Ifrit gives Dreng a friendly pat on the arm, "I knew it: the Society's just a big ol' drinking club." He gives Dreng a wink and turns to go, then keeps on turning until he has gone 360 degrees and is facing Dreng again, "So, um, where is it hombre?"
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Akash nods in sympathy with Dreng. "Gotta respect a man's thirst and his preferences for quenching it."
The sylph puts his slender hands in the deep pockets of his sailor's peacoat and shrugs his narrow shoulders. "Cap'n, yer gonna have to tell us which bottle yer wantin'. 'Fraid I never been one fer the hoity-toity bacchanalian pursuits."
Akash casts his sky-blue eyes around his fellow Pathfinders. "Any of you care to share what you know about the Wisp? Never had the pleasure, myself."
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"All I've heard is it was where the original members of the Society used to meet before they formed an official club. It holds sentimental value for a lot of Pathfinders and they usually offer discounts to members seeing as their coin is the main reason the doors of the Wisp are still open." Teflon replies to the interesting looking beings question as he looks him and the ifrit over in both awe and curiosity. "Not to be rude, but what are you both and what should I call you? Just call me Skillet." He asks after giving the information on the Wisp.
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Akash nods in thanks to the swashbuckler.
"Hoy, Skillet. Just call me Akash. Means 'sky' in some foreign tongue or another. Folks tell me I'm a sylph, meanin' I reckon, once upon a time some creature from the elemental plane of air, berthed 'imself fer a time at a great-grandmama's a mine."
Akash jerks a thumb in the direction of the bard.
"By the look of 'im, I'd wager our friend here has a strange bird nested in 'is own family tree."
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"Berthed himself? You mean... your great grandma... and a wind beast... made nasty?" Skillet says scrunching his face as he asks. "... and his grandma... with a bird...?"
Oh Skillet. What have you gotten yourself in to this time. He ponders as everything he thought he knew about the world flips upside down.
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"Didn't have to be nasty: maybe you're just Doin' it wrong!"
Cynan laughs at his own joke and takes Skillet by the hand, "Cynan G Elberion, at your service, experienced roisterer and gababout. I like to say that I've got some warm-hearted ancestors, that's all." he winks at Akash as he says this but keeps pumping Skillet's hand and also claps him on the arm and shoulder before letting him go.
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Liasna chuckled at the group's talk - she'd been moving along with them from one spot to another - seeing as they were all Pathfinder Agents, it seemed to be a typical thing to do. The last thing she'd expected was to be given an errand like this. Sure, when they'd been called out, she'd thought it was some small adventure, but... for wine?
Still, politics was politics and there was little she wouldn't do for the greater good. The woman shrugged. "Well, so long as this Heryn Gale recognizes the name, I don't see there being too much trouble." Liasna said, a bit bemused. With a hand on her belt pouch, she thought to wonder aloud, "Think we'll be needin' to encourage her or have you already sent payment? Maybe you ought to give us some coins?"
Introductions were a quick little thing all around and Liasna included her own with a shrug. "Liasna Iradlial, a healer of sorts - though don't wander too far from me; I can't see very well."
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Akash eyes the newcomer appreciatively.
"'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! Speakin' a pretty birds, how do you do, Liasna?"
"Gozreh's guts, no sailor minds a lass with a squint. Know some swabbies, actually prefer it so."
He chuckles, recalling a couple of old friends. He holds out a hand roughened by salt air and hard work.
"Name's Akash, pleased to meet ye."
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"I can tell you've never had a real wine before," Dreng slaps Teflon on the back, "I'm also assigning you a second, personal mission: once you run this errand for me, get a good bottle of wine for yourself and enjoy it with a beautiful lady."
The Venture-Captain winks at Cynan. "Research is the most important part of any mission, and I wouldn't want to dishonor you by assuming you can't fulfill your duty!"
"Get that water out of your ears, silly sylph!" Dreng laughs a little hard at his own joke. "I already told you, talk to Heryn. She knows what's what."
Then the Venture-Captain suddenly busts out in full belly laughter, "Hey now! Begging is my job! Bring me back that wine real fast like though, and maybe there's a tip in it for you."
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Liasna smiles at her peers, amused and perhaps even flattered by their kind greetings. "I am well enough, good sirs - I think this task will be made much easier for having you with me." The Venture-Captain's behavior is amusing - cheering, really, considering his stature and... current appearance. An interesting person.
When he laughs at her attempt, she grins. "Fair enough, sir, fair enough! We'll do our best to sort this out."
She considered the location itself and paused. "Do any of you know where this place is?" she asked her fellows. "For I certainly don't - I know it's a place for a good number of agents to drink and relax, but I've yet to join their number."
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Cynan takes a moment to scratch his beard, but eventually remembers having walked past the Wisp once before. It's in the Foreign Quarter, near the Grand Lodge, but along an unused alley far from the Lodge's front gates.
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure any view of the interior, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall.
Inside, the smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
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It takes a handful of minutes, but once Cynan remembers where the place is, their merry little troupe seemingly makes it without any trouble. Liasna is impressed, once they get there. The wood is strangely colored and she's not entirely sure how she feels about the rather sad state of the exterior. Once they slip inside, though, her concerns are immediately extinguished.
She breathes in the scent and grins, almost reflexively. It's a familiar smell, though not one she's supposed to be pleased with. The nostalgia is well worth the many times she was scolded by the sisters for wandering over to the many traveling bards that had passed through town.
She has every intention of speaking with those here, mingling for stories and songs, whenever she gets some downtime. For the time being, though, she heads to the woman at the bar, an easy smile.
"Hello, there," she greets her. "Of course, I don't think I'd mind a good drink, either - the number of Pathfinders here suggests you've either got a really good price or a really good ale, but I'm hoping it's both."
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Akash joins the ladies and the other patrons at the bar. "I'll 'ave Pimms, if ye got it. Partial to the Royal variety, gin from the Shackles and some sparkling wine from Cheliax. With a mint sprig, this time a year, if ye please."
While he waits for his drink, Akash rests one elbow on the bar and spins around on his stool, looking about the Wounded Wisp for interesting folks who catch the eye or draw the ear.
"Heryn Gale, if that's yer name, I'm Akash, a sailor new to this port an' workin' with the Pathfinder Society. Seems a bit hush-hush, I 'spose. We're to fetch a bottle for his em'nence, Cap'n Dreng. 'Cordin' to himself, ye know all the partic'lars."
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Liasna accepts a mug and quaffs her mug to Teflon's seeing as he's got it raised and nods at his toast, drinking deeply. She makes a pleased sound and when she sets her mug down, it's already half gone.
"Mmmm, to ale and glory indeed," she murmurs. "This is a good ale indeed." Turning her attention to the woman, she gives her another warm smile. "Well, what say you? Do you know good sir Drandle Dreng and have you his bottle?" There's humor in her voice and a mischievous glint in her eyes when she adds, "The poor babe simply can't be without something to suckle!"
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"I might be she," the bartender replies, "but you'll have to wait a bit, until my replacement gets here. Soon as she arrives though, we can take a trip to the cellar and get Drandle's package."
She puts an ale in front of each of you, including Akash, and says, "First round's on the house, for the wait. Why don't you mingle while you're waiting, pass the time quicker."
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Cynan sees a hale and strong, if no longer young, man smoking in the corner and watching the room. "Please, have a seat. I'm Aram bin Kaleel." He slides a cutter and tindertwig across the table.
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At the second mug that appears, Liasna finishes off the first in a single motion and exchanges mugs so the one in her hand has decidedly more drink in it than it had moments prior. "Take your time," she says to possibly Heryn. Raising her mug a bit, she notes, "I'm in no hurry."
She drinks from the second mug, eyeing the crowd from beside the adventurous looking fellow. What was his name again? Ah, Skillet! It was always a bit odd for her, keeping track of people's names when she first met them. Still, the man had bought her a drink, so she'd have to make a point of remembering him. If nothing else, she owed him at least the one round at some point.
It was when she saw Janira that her contented expression changed into one of open delight. "Oh!" Turning towards Teflon, she gestured towards the halfling and explained, "I think I see a friend. I'm going to go catch up." After a pause, she realized it might be rude to simply leave the man hanging and added: "Have you met her? Would you like an introduction?"
Liasna moves over to her friend, hips swaying naturally, and greets Janira warmly, "Janira! How've you been? Are you still going on those exciting adventures, fending off minotaurs all on your own?"
If Skillet is with her, she makes sure to introduce him - if he doesn't already know the woman. "This is Skillet - I don't know if you've met before. I've only just met him myself, but he seems to me a good fellow so far."
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After finishing his drink and following Liasna over to her friend he replies, "I've yet to meet the famous Janira! I am humbled to be in the presence of a society legend." As he takes a slight bow. "I've heard many tales of your adventures. Particularly your run-in with said minotaur. It's great to see you are doing well." Seeing Liasna has been around a few of these adventurers before, Skillet sticks near her as to not end up awkwardly in a corner knowing no one.
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Never one to leave a man hanging, once she's aware that Skillet hasn't met Janira, she immediately launches into an explanation of how she'd met the undoubtedly impressive woman, taking care to properly embellish the woman's deeds. It was, undoubtedly, not as neat as a bard might have done, but she liked to think she'd hit the main points - anyone would think a halfling in single combat against a minotaur was impressive, no?
After a few moments, she pauses and grins at Janira before nodding to her friend: "Well, what do you think? We're running an errand for Drandle Dreng, so I thought it might be a bit... well, odd. But this guy here looks pretty dependable, don't you think?" Then, to Teflon, she smiles, perhaps a bit teasingly and says, "You'll keep me safe, right?"
Well, maybe she was overdoing it a bit, but she'd heard that it was useful for men to be viewed as desirable -- at least when they were out and about and looking for women. She wasn't so sure he was, but she figured making him look good wasn't going to hurt... And well. If she got to flirt a bit? Heh, what was the harm? She liked a good bit of it now and again.
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Akash spies Skillet and Liasna flirting with the halfling and each other.
Looks like the bravo and the elf are already givin' it to the halfling at both ends. I probably don't have much to talk about with the scholar over there. Maybe these half-orcs are interested in a little conversatin'.
In a low voice to Cynan, Akash suggests, "The scholar's all yours, bard. I'll bend the ears of the twins here."
Akash passes his ale to the half-orcs. "Hoy, my half-human friends. Care fer this mug a ale? 'Fraid they got no Pimms in the galley."
Never knowed an orc to pass up free anythin'.
"New to Society work myself. Ye worked fer Dreng yet? Sent us 'ere ta fetch a bottle a wine, kin ye believe it?"
Akash gives them a moment to make the ale disappear.
Not a long wait, I'll wager.
"How 'bout you lot? Yer a likely pair a 'venturers, twins if these blue eyes ain't lyin' to me. What's yer specialty, what schemes ye plannin'?"
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"You know I will." He says with a half crooked smile and tiny wink. "Could I interest you two in another mug?"
She's a wild one isn't she? I bet she would be quite a bit of fun. Too bad we're stuck chasing after this blasted bottle. Better keep this semi professional... for now. Skillet thinks to himself eyeing Liasna up and down and being very obvious about it.
As the conversation between Liasna, Janira, and Skillet continues, he is steadily peering back to the bar on Heryn awaiting her replacement.
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Janira throws a huge hug around Liasna's waist. "I'm so glad to see you on another mission--even if it is just errands for Venture-Captain Dreng. Stick with it, and you'll be exploring ancient archaeological sites in no time!"
The halfling turns the newcomer and says, "Hi! I'm Janira! Tell me all about yourself. What brought you to the Pathfinder Society?"
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The half-orcs gladly accept Akash's ale, and welcome him into their conversation. The sister speaks up first, "Can't say that we have. Just a few missions for old Ambrus, bashing heads and stomping on Aspis' tails."
The brother chimes in, "We're mighty good in a fight, but you know how those captains are. They think everything can be solved with honeyed words, even though nothing ever actually is. Can't say I've heard of many missions where Pathfinders don't have to defend themselves at least once!"
The pair drain their flagons in a single gulp, then the sister orders two more rounds for the three of you. "By the by, I'm Shrade and he's Garl. What say you for a little game? We played it once in Cayden's Hall, won a really nice flagon.
"Rules is, you gotta drink your ale while holding a piece of furniture above your head. The bigger the furniture and the more ale you drink, the better!"
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Liasna returns the hug one-armed so as to keep hold of her ale and, well. Not smother her friend. "I'll be looking forward to it! I've heard you can find some pretty interesting things there... Not to mention, learning about the traditions of the people those things belong to is always a welcome treat!" The oracle grinned. "And, of course, the eyecandy out there is always well worth the trip... Or so I'm told!"
As she turns towards Teflon at that last bit, she catches his eyes on their next journey up from her other assets and holds his gaze, smiling a bit mischievously. At his question she considers her mug, then her level of sobriety. After two, she was still doing alright, but she couldn't be so sure she could say the same after a third and they still had a job to do.
"They really do have a good ale here," she muses. "I think I've still plenty left here, but what say we come back after we've got the bottle and have a drink? I owe you at least the one round, so maybe we'll open a tab and see who else comes about?" It was an invitation to drink after the job... And maybe get to know each other a bit more -- with the open-ended promise of getting to potentially meet and learn about others. Besides, Janira might take the somewhat open invitation, too.
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"Adventure. The same thing I'm sure draws many to the society. I come from a long line of iron workers, not exactly a thrilling business. My father invented a new pan for cooking. Not being vain at all he named it the "skillet". He's working on a new coating he claims nothing you cook will stick to the inside. But sweating over a forge and mixing metals with chemicals has never been my cup o' tea, however." Teflon gives a lengthy reply going in to his family's history before turning back to Liasna.
"We wouldn't want to get you drunk this early I suppose. Business first, leisure later. But I won't forget you owe me that srink." He says with a smile that could melt steel and eyes that looked as if they were peering into her soul.
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Akash throws caution to the wind, as he accepts the half-orc twins' challenge to drink a flagon of ale while holding a piece of bar furniture above his head.
Aim high, sez the Sky Druid. Better to aim high and fail, that go low and blow!
"Never seen a sylph hold a table o'er 'is head, 'ave ye? Well, ye never seen this 'un drink ale, neither."
Akash grips the table in his long-fingered hands, his thin, blue-skinned arms already straining at the thought of what he was about to attempt.
"If'n I git it up there, Shrade, you pour that bev'rage down my gullet, right?"
He gets the table up as far as his shoulders, but his arms buckle as he tries to hoist it above his his head. "Ye bested me fair 'n square, friends. Enjoy yer ale."
Akash makes Shrade and Gale an offer, "I ever hear of a job needs some muscle, I'll keep ye in mind. You hear a voice whisperin' on the wind, it'll be me if'n yer within a mile."
"Nice to've met ye. Fair winds and following seas, mates."
Akash moves over to the scholar's table.
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"Cynan G Elberion esquire, at your service."
He looks around, "I don't suppose you really qualify as a Pathfinder until you've done somethin' useful... so I guess I'm almost a Pathfinder, which'll do for now."
Cynan pulls on his cigar, "So, tell me, you know anything about Drandle Dreng? I've a feelin' he might be yankin' our chain."
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Going for the easy win, Shrade grabs the nearest chair and just one flagon, but doesn't get a good grip on the chair and drops it just inches off the ground.
"That's what you get for not testing yourself!" Garl shouts, then easily lifts the table over his head and holds it there long enough to chug two ales.
Shrade slaps her brother on the back, then turns to Akash, "What say you to a rematch? Loser buys dinner."
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"That's the right spirit to have." Aram nods at Cynan's humility. "You should learn about our Venture-Captains yourself, but I can share a little knowledge on other subjects. Tell me, have you run into any swarms of vermin yet? What about traps? Both are inevitable, and you should be prepared to deal with them."
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On his way to the scholar's table, Akash pauses next to his friends.
He hooks his thumb over his shoulder towards the bar. "If yer intrested, the half-orc twins are hostin' a table-liftin'-ale-drinkin' contest."
Cyan's fired up a fatty, and the yoga pants types are flirtin' with the 'alf-pint. Akash shrugs and moves along. Looks like tonight's another shanty 'bout a sailor on shore leave and a lonely lib'arian.
Akash approaches the scholar. "Beggin' yer pardon, professor, but ye mind crackin' yer books with a stranger? My area a special'zation is the natural world."
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"That's the right spirit to have." Aram nods at Cynan's humility. "You should learn about our Venture-Captains yourself, but I can share a little knowledge on other subjects. Tell me, have you run into any swarms of vermin yet? What about traps? Both are inevitable, and you should be prepared to deal with them."
Cynan's voice is full of surprise, "Vermin? I'm not sure there's much worry with ants and bees?"
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Liasna grins, agreeing with her friend's logic. "I don't see why not!" She leans over and elbows Teflon gently in the side. "If you play your cards right, you might get dinner, too," she says easily.
She takes another swallow of ale and licks her lips, savoring the flavor. "You know, now that I'm getting used to the flavor of this stuff, I'm starting to feel like I've tasted it before..." she frowns slightly then shakes her head before turning towards the halfling.
"Well, adventures and all planning aside for the moment, what're you doing here? I thought I'd have to trek all the way over to the Pig's Paunch to find you again!" Which, you know, wouldn't have been too terrible, seeing as that's where it had all begun, but there was definitely something nice about seeing old friends in new or different places.
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"Oh, no. I'm a historian, not a professor. Yargos Gill's the name. Perhaps you've heard of me?" The old man pauses a long moment, peering up through his glasses at Akash.
"I've provided critical assistance to your Society on multiple occasions. Why, without my help Absalom would have been invaded by first undead Taldans and then demons from the Abyss! I'm sure you've heard both tales--the story of the Silent Tide and the Song of the Sea Witch--but if not, I'd be happy to educate you!"
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"Not much to worry about?" Aram bin Kaleel stares at Cynan, slack-jawed.
"Is this the training they give new Pathfinders today? Completely unacceptable. That's a great way to expand the Wall of Names."
The Keleshite man produces a two-chambered flask and sets in on the table. "This is alchemist's fire. It's rather expensive for a young Pathfinder, but well worth the cost. If you don't believe me, then just go find the nearest beehive. Give it a good smack with the flat of that longsword, then stand there and tell me bees aren't dangerous."
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After seeing the fun Akash was having with the Orcs and hearing of a contest, Teflon couldn't help but get excited. "I'm gonna let you two catch up, I have to see what this is all about." He says back to Janira and Liasna. "You're both welcome to join."
After making his way to the orcs Teflon wastes no time snagging a chair and two mugs of ale. "Let me show yall how this is done."