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“Pathfinders, our beloved Absalom faces the threat of invasion and needs our help. Just as Absalom has been our Society’s home for centuries, so does it fall to us to aid in its defense. Find the group to which you’ve been assigned, lend a hand as the city prepares for the siege, and be ready for more instructions.”
Hundreds of Pathfinders stand waiting at the Grand Lodge for news of the coming battle, and a murmur of anticipation has risen from the nervous crowd. Master of Swords Marcos Farabellus takes the lectern, raises his hand for attention, and speaks:
"Pathfinders, thank you for answering my call. It has been two days since we received news of an army of demonic abominations building a siege castle in the Cairnlands north of Absalom. Today, the Grand Council of Absalom announced they have invoked an old wartime law, according to which a Siege Lord must be appointed to oversee the city’s
defense. They’ve made an excellent choice: Wynsal Starborn, District Seat on the Grand Council and retired Captain of the First Guard."
"He has already organized scouting forays and evacuations of the outer towns in preparation for a siege. The Pathfinder Society has pledged to help the Siege Lord with the preparations. All of you have been assigned to teams, and if you have already found the other members of your team, you should get started. Go now, but be ready to return here when you hear the signal horn."
Smaller capsules of teams start to gather among the large mass of Pathfinder agents. Running among them are idividuals with sheets of paper and names on them. They direct any lost souls to their respective stations and teams. A tall, olive-skinned man with a wide hat observes you as you walk by, and walks towards you. he asks for your name and directs you to your team nearby. The chaostic atmosphere of the mass of Pathfinder agents seems to tone down as you find yourself focusing on your fellow team members...
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The small gnome was the first name on the sign up sheet. She was quite the sight, in her studded leather armor and with her starknife strapped to her back. It was clear she was pure kinetic energy, pacing back and forth and around the person in charge of marshaling the group. ”Where is everyone else? How can they be late on a day like today,” she asked, not stopping her pacing.
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A woman in an outrageous dress of reds, oranges, yellows and some blues that drape from her shoulders and shifts with the slightest movement giving the impression of a dancing flame itself, slowly strides up to the group. She almost towers above the rest of the group, being a tall, lithe figure, before adding a good two inches in heel. Looking up, and up some more, you find her confident, and heavily made up face, and a wig that makes the dress look positively subdued in comparison. The thing is a towering mass of branching shapes, evoking as sense of autumn leaves, or the flickers of fire, all of it varying shades of orange.
With a high tinkling laugh, she comments, "Honey, honey, dear, There's no way I could be late. The party doesn't start until I arrive. Though, I do like your energy, dearie. Can I get your name? I am Zailus, Zailus el-Isi. You best not forget."
She catches sight of the end of the rat's tail and for a split second, a look of horror and nasuea washes over her face. She covers her mouth with one hand and tries to hide her dry heaves behind some throat clearing. After a second, she comments, "It will certianly be an... experince working with you, Yagi Mi. Might I ask you warn me if you're about to snack on something? I don't have the... strongest of stomachs, and would rather not find my limits anytime soon."
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"Haha, yeah... not late! Just, ahhh, discreet." The small wayang appears seemingly from nowhere, and chuckles at the surprise some exhibit. "I'm Vari; I'm just good at not being seen when I don't want to be seen. Hopefully that's something we can make use of in our preparations, here."
She is dressed simply. Her plain, dark clothing clearly help her to blend into the background when she wants. She doens't appear to be wearing any bulky armor, nor carrying any wild array of weaponry. Though, she does have a scabbard at her side, and her backpack bulges in a way that shows she's at least attempting to be prepared.
Your coordinator approaches - "Well, now that you are all here... We have time until the signal horn blows. And I trust that it will be heard throughout the entire city, pretty much. But we do have other issues. Possibly several."
"You already may have heard that someone is planning on attacking our beloved city. There are a few last-notice things that need to be done. Several, in fact. We could use some of your time before the main force arrives."
"The attacking army has spies in the city. Someone needs to dispose of them. It involves a lot of jumping above the streets."
Our spellcasters are setting up magical wards around town. If you are skilled in the arcane, help them out. They do what they can, but time was limited."
The citizens of the burrows outside of the walls still didn't relocate to the safety of the centre. THey are either stubborn or didn't get the message yet."
"If you can sneak around, you could be useful in spying on the other army to see what they are sending our way."
"There have been reports of several oddities in the city. Some investigation might be in order, in case it is connected to the attack. And it likely is."
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"I’m Dame Perrine Revalla, but you can just call me Perrine. I’ve been granted a minor title from my adventures in Taldor. Of course, that title and five copper will get you a cup of mead and not much else,” she responds, nodding at the others gathered around her.
"It's a pleasure! I've got a title, too: I'm a queen, though not of anyplace and no country will ever recognize it!"
Zailus smiles as the coordinator approaches and with a small hoot of excitement, comments, "So what've we got to do? Oh, only all that? My! Well team, lets get moving. I, for one, think that getting people to safety is something we should work on, and maybe we'll even be able to show some of the slobs in the Burrows a thing or two about fashion while we're at it. ...But after that I don't know, anybody have anything they want to try? Vari, you've got that stealth-chic going on, maybe some reconnaissance?"
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Round One
”Hold on, I can help the spellcaster set up their wards straightaway!”. She scampers off to talk to them about her knowledge of the gods, and how their spells could best be used.
Know. Religion
Round 2
Perrine runs back to the group. ”You are right, Zailus. The citizens must be saved!”. She waits to see if the group had a plan. If not, she heads toward the Burrows to do some convincing.
”You need to take safety now! War is coming to the city. Please listen to reason!”
Diplomacy
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Heavy clouds are gathering above Absalom, and the city is tense with anticipation of the coming battle. Suddenly, bright light patterns flash from atop Skyreach. A few minutes later, the sound of an explosion rumbles through the city as an old wooden granary erupts in flames. A little farther away, a stone bridge collapses, dropping a group of soldiers to their deaths. Soon the air is alive with frightened screams, the sound of hurried footsteps, and moments later, the booming blare of a brass horn that rises above the din of a city in chaos. A messenger runs past, shouting: “The horn! We should gather at the Grand Lodge! Let’s go!”
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Zailus saunters down the streets of the Burrows, her tall stature and every so slightly too broad shoulders making her stand out from the crowd. "Alright we're getting you people out of here and into some better accommodations... and hopefully clothing.... Oi, you there, handsome! Those pants are completely the wrong color for you! Follow me, we might have something that'll compliment your eyes better! .... Oh, Honey, anyone ever warn you that three large holes in a shirt is two too many? If you come with me I can probably dig out an old one of mine for you!"
Zailus also follows Perrine to the wards, kinda curious as to what the magicians are up to. There she finds that many of them are using wands. She very excitedly rushes in and grabs one of the unused wands. "Oh, Shelyn! I love these things! If I remember correctly, it's a swish, flick and an 'Ooooh Serrr!'"
Making sure she doesn't have her heavy and frankly restricting armor on, and that she'd changed out her heels for some more practical flats, she climbs up to the rooftop where the spy had been pointed out. She spends a good thirty minutes chasing the man down, a streak of color across the building tops. "I swear, if I break a nail having to catch you, this won't end without a lot of bloodshed!"
Finally, she spends a few minutes asking about the Pathfinder and Seige camp, before finding a magic device that can record and play back a specific song. She then changes out of the dress into a fiery pantsuit outfit with a bit of stretch. Following Yagi out to the enemy campsite, she decides to try putting on a distraction, by DANCING!
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"Vari, you've got that stealth-chic going on, maybe some reconnaissance?"
Zailus words fall on empty ears, as when she looks for Vari, she finds the wayang is already out of sight. Having slipped silently out of the room and into the streets, Vari had already begun making her way towards the outskirts of the city, lending her considerable skills to the team's reconnaissance efforts.
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Several agents assist in marshaling Pathfinders as Marcos Farabellus unfurls several maps of Absalom’s districts. Once a crowd has gathered, he straightens to address the gathered Society. “Pathfinders, Absalom is under attack. We have received many reports of undead saboteurs attacking armories, granaries, water supplies, and guard outposts—targeted strikes to undermine our city’s infrastructure. Absalom is losing key resources, and enough people are panicking that it’s difficult to organize an effective defense.”
Zarta Dralneen, head of the Dark Archive faction, steps forward and interjects. “I have learned someone—someone who knows our home well—has stolen the Black Echelon codebook from our archives. A force of Taldan agents attacked Absalom long ago while following those encoded orders, and with the right combination of illuminated signals, one could draw these oathsworn operatives from beyond the grave to continue their attack.”
Farabellus narrows his eyes. “That explains the acts of sabotage. Absalom’s First Guard is struggling to restore order, and they need our help. Pathfinders, stand by for instructions!”
Ollysta Zadrian of the Silver Crusade raises her sword high, announcing, “We should not wait—Absalom needs us now!” Clasping the paladin’s upraised hand with her own, Lady Gloriana Morilla adds, “Each of us has accumulated considerable influence and resources in recent years, and this is the prime opportunity for each of us to lend Absalom our strength in its our of need. We may call ourselves factions, but today we can act as one!”
Nodding with approval, Marcos Farabellus calls out to the assembled Pathfinders. “It’s decided. Pathfinders, we’re deferring to the specialized expertise of these seven organizations to rally Absalom. Seek out the leaders for instructions, and make the city proud.”
You find Lady Gloriana Morilla reading through a growing pile of reports. Even as you approach her office, you see a courier leaving after a delivery.
"The city is in dire straits, Pathfinders. The Siege Lord Wynsal Starborn is a strong leader, but he’s had difficulty gathering the High Council—and in turn getting other nobles to focus. The recent acts of sabotage have caused many noble families to seal off their estates or begin evacuating the city in private ships. Not only is this cowardly exodus clogging the harbor and sowing confusion, but it is also disrupting other defenses because the nobles had earlier promised their household guards’ service in defending the city. Acting under authority granted by the Siege Lord, help me find them and remind them of their responsibilities as members of the nobility. History need not remember them and their descendants as the ones who failed Absalom."
She shuffles some of the reports around to find a list of addresses, and hands the paper over. "The families enumerated on this paper promised their services but failed to deliver. I'm hoping this absence is a mere misunderstanding, and not some ill-fated turn of events, but still. A hasty investigation is in order..."
A carrier pigeon landing on the window sill interrupts her.
"A moment, please.", she pauses and quickly walks over to pick up the bird and unroll the paper it delivered. She quickly reads it, makes some notes on her papers and turns back to you.
"Where was I? Ah yes - the families you are looking for are the Arpadors, Caperinas, al-Hadirs, and Tullians. All of these families live in the Petal District. You have the addresses on that document.", she points to the paper she previously gave you. "Godspeed, agents!"
The Arpadors were originally merchants who effectively bought their way into the nobility with their considerable wealth accumulated in the cattle trade.
The Caperinas are from Cheliax, and like many of their fellow Chelaxians, they are sticklers for law.
Centuries ago, the extended al-Hadir family produced many great warriors who fought Taldor and became war heroes.
The Tullians recently decided to reinvest some of the family fortunes, purchased a significant trading fleet, and rent a pier in the docks.
Based on Gloriana's notes, you move through the chaotic streets of Absalom. Smaller clashes are on every other corner, and the citizens move out of the way of the attackers whenever possible.
The Petal District, with it's mercenary force seems a bit more contained, however. Even so, upon reaching the Ardapor manor, hired guards stand at the gate with their spears and swords at the ready. After explaining yourselves, they let you pass into the courtyard. After a few knocks on the door, one of the family's servants opens up and urges you to quickly get inside. You are led to the meeting room, and find Marton Arpador standing next to the window with a glass in his hand. The glass is empty. The servant announces you in a formal manner, and the man turns around. He doesn't seem to be dressed for battle. Instead, Marton sports a set of fashionable, and no doubt expensive clothing made of finer silks. "Welcome, to our humble abode!"
He gestures the servant to leave and close the door. The command is quickly understood and executed.
"How may I help you, Pathfinders? I assume this visit is connected to the situation outside?", he twirls his moustache as he walks towards the small table in the middle of the room to pour himself, and anyone of you who would accept, a drink.
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Sense Motive
”I’ll not beat around the bush. The High Council needs your family. Only through a gathering of the strongest noble houses of the nation can we stand strong. It is a scary time for all of us. The approaching armies must be beaten back. We won’t stop until we beat the undead back into their graves!”
Diplomacy
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Zailus walks into the room and starts to appreciate the tasteful decorations and adornments. When offered she gladly accepts a small glass of wine, and sips it as her eyes roam the room. She tries her best not to show dismay at the effects of her collegue's words on the nobleman and instead tries a different tack. "This is absolutely lovely! Are these curtains truly Damascus silk? Oh my these must have cost a fortune! Too bad we don't have enough forces to keep the Petal District safe and these are liable to burn. It's great you're protecting your place, but I don't know how much good that'll do if the entire army breaks through the walls..."
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A wolf pack, working together, is far more formidable than the wolves themselves. You must join your wolf pack, lest you perish alone from the wolf pack at your door.
Yagi has wisdom, but not necessarily the words to convey them.
Yiel-Dan proceeds to nose through the bookshelf, knocking books off randomly.
Yiel-Dan, no! Sit!
Yiel-Dan obeys.
Marton swings his cup around to stir the liquid within. While he listens to your plea, he doesn't seem convinced, walks back to the window. He looks outside again, and then turns back to you.
"Indeed - wolf packs.", he sighs. "You see, I have my own pack here. And they need protecting. If I send my men to fight, who will save my family when the undead show up? This way, we at least have some sense of security. Had I been a bachelor without such responsibilities, I'd even join the fight myself. And while I know my way around a rapier - it's for sport. I am not much of a fighter or tactician when it comes to actual lethal combat. My wife and children," - he points towards a large painting above the fireplace depicting himself with a young woman and two girls, all in fancy clothing fitting a noble - "they never held a weapon in their lives. They need the guards. That's why I keep them here."
He looks at his glass, and pours it down in one swig. "In the name of our family, I would like to apologise for the complications caused."
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Zailus looks back at the man with a look of disbelief on her face. "I just told you, gaurding one house is a complete waste of time. if it gets bad enough that all those horrible undead are threatening your place, even a hundred gaurds won't help you stave them off! If they were helping keep the walls gaurded and holding off people in a joint effort, then they might be able to protect you... And anyways we're not saying release all your guards, you should keep a couple to keep your family safe of course!"
"I see...", Marton listens to Zailus, and raises an eyebrow. He looks at the other pathfinders, as if looking for confirmation in something Zailas said.
Marton seems to be lost in thought for a moment, but snaps out of it.
"Indeed... my men will be at your disposal within the hour, but I'll hold you responsible if something happens to my family."
In the nearby Caperinas estate, the introductions are very similar. With the exception of the matriarch seeing you in her garden's gazebo instead of indoors. After you are seated by the service, a woman with prominent cheekbones and narrow eyes walks over with her ragdoll cat in her arms. She sits down, and scoffs whenever the sounds of the siege penetrate the estate's walls. "Apologies for the racket, but it's outside of my control. The interior is being refurbished, however, so we can't meet there. This will have to do. I don't think we were introduced? Annalia Caperina... a pleasure"