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Agirran stands in the middle of the scene as a notable landmark. The man is huge. Seemingly made tanned muscles, covered in illegible tattooed text, attitude, the furs of dead animals, the guy looks like an angry monolith with his arms crossed over his broad chest. A huge greataxe is tied to his back.
Somewhere behind him lightning should be striking and an electric guitar should be shuddering out one last power chord before exploding into a cloud of shrapnel.
"So where in the ass-end of the Abyss is everyone?"
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A female gnome enters. At least, you think it's a gnome, for she's unlike any gnome you've ever seen. She has wild eyes and hair the color of a deep sky that blows as if in a gentle breeze, even indoors.
"Howdy! I'm Dewdrop Sparkberry Frugmutter Neething. It's a pleasure to meet you!" She hurries up to Agirran, hand extended.
The little gnome stops well short of Agirran and stares up in wonder, her mouth open, and her extended hand forgotten.
"Wow! You're big. My dad always told me I could 'Do Anything', but golly, mister, I bet someone as gigantic as you could do even more!"
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A female gnome enters. At least, you think it's a gnome, for she's unlike any gnome you've ever seen. She has wild eyes and hair the color of a deep sky that blows as if in a gentle breeze, even indoors.
"Howdy! I'm Dewdrop Sparkberry Frugmutter Neething. It's a pleasure to meet you!" She hurries up to Agirran, hand extended.
Sure you are. Gnomes.... "Agirran." Agirran says. "You part of this crew?"
He spits in his huge, rope-calloused hand and extends a bone-grinding shake.
"Wow! You're big. My dad always told me I could 'Do Anything', but golly, mister, I bet someone as gigantic as you could do even more!"
"Size is all in you head kid. I knew this guy--a dwarf name o' B&#!@*!&, Bullwhip, sumthin'--could't understand a word he said, and I've been to alsorts of foreign ports so I can speak practically anything well enough take find a drink, a privy, and a whore. Anyhow this guy's a dwarf right? So's I could s*@& bigger than him if I had a mind to, but this little barrel plug could swing an axe like no one's business. Why he once told me about this boarding action on slaver's ship in the port of Absalom...."
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"Well hello thar! I see I ain't tha first one here."
A young dwarf walk up to the odd pair.
"Me name be Forgrim of tha Steelgreaves clan. Dinna worry, I dinna expect ye ta recognize tha name. We be but a wee clan. Sorry ta interrupt, but I believe ye were about ta tell a story, please continu, I sure like good stories."
Grabbing his shield, Forgrim precariously sit on the edge to create a make shift stool and focus is attention on Agirran.
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A sturdy dwarf enters the hall, wearing an exotic armor and trying to pretend to be an intellectual - which clearly he wasn't.
He has a grouchy semblant and is as sulky as the rest of his race.
"Greetings, Pathfinders. I am Ptolemeo", were his only words when he arrived.
The dwarf sits on a chair in a corner and starts to stir the braids in his beard.
Suddenly, all in the room hears a *coark* coming from a pouch of the dwarf.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Say 'hi' to them, George" and the shaman brings a toad and shows it to others, presenting his little friend to them.
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"Agirran." Agirran says. "You part of this crew?"[
He spits in his huge, rope-calloused hand and extends a bone-grinding shake.
Dewdrop looks queerly at the massive, wet hand, and leans in for a closer look. "Why did you get it wet first?" She laughs slightly; it's an airy laugh that gets lost in the breeze, even though you're indoors.
Seeing Georga the Toad, the odd little gnome claps her hand delightedly, and rushes over to speak with him, nearly ignoring Ptolemo entirely. "Can I pet him? Do you mind?" Not entirely waiting for an answer, she tentatively reaches he fingers out to the creature.
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"Agirran." Agirran says. "You part of this crew?"[
He spits in his huge, rope-calloused hand and extends a bone-grinding shake.Dewdrop looks queerly at the massive, wet hand, and leans in for a closer look. "Why did you get it wet first?" She laughs slightly; it's an airy laugh that gets lost in the breeze, even though you're indoors.
Yeah, gnomes....
"Well hello thar! I see I ain't tha first one here."
A young dwarf walk up to the odd pair.
"Me name be Forgrim of tha Steelgreaves clan. Dinna worry, I dinna expect ye ta recognize tha name. We be but a wee clan. Sorry ta interrupt, but I believe ye were about ta tell a story, please continu, I sure like good stories."
Grabbing his shield, Forgrim precariously sit on the edge to create a make shift stool and focus is attention on Agirran.
And dwarves with funny accents....
A sturdy dwarf enters the hall, wearing an exotic armor and trying to pretend to be an intellectual - which clearly he wasn't.
He has a grouchy semblant and is as sulky as the rest of his race.
"Greetings, Pathfinders. I am Ptolemeo", were his only words when he arrived.
... and fops. Sure he's built like a brick privy, but just watch. This isn't turning out very well. Well, maybe better than last time. Maybe I won't have to toss this gnome off a parapet, or slug anyone.
Agirran snorts. "So what do you do?" He asks, keeping his arms crossed.
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Agirran snorts. "So what do you do?" He asks, keeping his arms crossed.
"Why, whatever I want! Doesn't everybody?" Humans are so silly, sometimes.
"Mostly I dance with the wind. The great dryad says she thinks I'll be able to fly soon. I'd love to fly. Do you like flying? Just imagine it, floating in the clouds, looking at the tiny villages below, with their humans and dwarves and elves and gnomes. I wonder what real gnomes are like? I'm not a real gnome, you know, just more like them than anything else. Some sort of wild magic in The Great Woods, the dryad said. Maybe that's how other gnomes are made. I don't really know."
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Agirran snorts. "So what do you do?" He asks, keeping his arms crossed."Why, whatever I want! Doesn't everybody?" Humans are so silly, sometimes.
"Mostly I dance with the wind...."
"Beans will do that to you. Why I get the wind somethin' fierce by my third bowl. Especially that swill they serve at the Flaxseed. I can knock over candles at twenty paces."
He nods his head at the real gnome, not real gnome stuff. Best to humor her."How's about you?" He asks the next person.
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"So nae story then? Oh well...
Shrugging, Forgrim stand up and put his shield back.
"Ta answer yer question, I be kinda new ta that adventure thin'. Used ta be a guard patrolin' wall in me old home. Now though, I follow tha teachin' of Cayden Cailean and carry some of his divine energy. What about ye, what do ye do?"
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Kyran wanders in, stretching as if he just woke up. If so, it looks as though he slept in what he was wearing the night before. Only his bow is in good order, the rest of him seeming fairly disheveled. He smells somewhat conspicuously of ale and perfume.
"Gods, why is the sun so damned bright this early in the morning?" he asks, seemingly rhetorically, especially given that it's early afternoon.
He seems a bit surprised to see so people "Desna's wings... Did we start already? I need a drink first."
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A short figure in a deeply hooded black robe approaches, its face obscured. "I'm glad to see that you're all here. I am Venture-Captain Igtwilliamus, and I'm here to send you on a quest of doom and dismay." The hooded figure turns to face each of you in turn, pausing briefly as it searches your face; you catch barely a glint of light off of its eye when its glance lands on you.
"Well, it seems you really are the Pathfinders." The voice has clearly changed; it's lost its gravity and the cadence is much more colloquial all of a sudden. The figure reaches for the hood, drawing it back as he continues. "You'll believe anything." The wayang smiles. A friendly gleam in his eye echoes the glint seen before while he was hooded.
His bluish-purple skin is tattooed with an intricate pattern of white dots across his face. With thin, curved eyebrows, a narrow pointed nose with small nostrils, and a small mouth with drawn lips, the sharp features resolve into a gentle and friendly whole.
"I'm Tenibri. Pardon the jest, but I can't make an entrance in the bigger world without making an entrance, so I ham it up sometimes. Especially with Pathfinders. The next round is on me, friends, while we wait for the real VC."
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"How's about you?" He asks the next person.
"I split skulls with my axe", Ptolomeo answered, showing his axe to them.
When the strange figure arrives presenting himself as a Venture-Captain, Ptolomeo promptly got up from the chair. When the trick is revealed, he got a bit grumpy: "you piece of s**~! If you were not an agent, I could make your body chopped right now!", the dwarf sputters toward the wayang, clutching his axe.
*Croak!*
Ptolomeo stops when George talks to him.
"Ok, my friend, ok. I will try to remain calm", then he sits on the chair again, keeping an eye on the little "trickster".
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After Tenibri introduction, Forgrim just start laughing hard.
"Good one! I just wish I had though of doin' that myself.
Desna's wings... Did we start already? I need a drink first.
"Yes! A good drink with a big meal wou' be a proper way ta git ta know each other while we wait for tha Venture Captain ta explain our mission here."
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The sun beats down across this muddy plain, a scant five miles from the walls of Absalom. Fellow Pathfinders gather on all sides, including well-traveled field agents and more permanent staff from the Grand Lodge itself. In the center of the field stands a wooden platform, raised some ten feet off the ground. The excited chatter drowns out the buzz of summer insects as the gathered adventurers speculate on what’s to come.
While the Decemvirate hoped to keep their experimentation with the Sky Key a secret, thanks to the sheer number of experts and materials required by this endeavor, some rumors have inevitably leaked. You may already know some pieces of information or learn more by speaking with fellow pathfinders about the coming exercise.
Vendors also wander the area, allowing you to purchase any last-minute supplies you may need.
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A middle-aged half-elf woman approaches your group, carrying some papers in her hands. When she sees you, she smiles lightly. She has a natural grace and looks attractive, she seems to display manners that show a noble legacy. She's dressed with an adventurer's outfit and when you hear her voice, you sense she trained for years in the art of opera and singing.
"Ah there you are! Nice to meet you, new recruits. My name is Noravia Starnon, of House Starnon. I am from the newly reformed Wiscrani pathfinder lodge."
Seeing that you don't know anything about what she's talking, she laughs lightly and puts back a lock of black hair.
"But I see we have a very diversified group here! Please tell me more about who you are and, if you did have one, your last adventure. Oh and I'm just here to make sure you have taken everything you need for the incoming mission..."
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"It's from Irrisen. Warms you up or takes the rust off year-old steel."
"Thanks" Forgrim takes a sip of the flask "Doesn't taste as bad as tha description ye gave of it, but tried better on me way here"
Seeing the woman walking up to them, Forgrim passes the flask back at Kyran.
"Forgrim Steelgreaves tha name and this wou' be me first job for tha Pathfinders Society."
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Agirran heard that something has been abuzz around the Grand Lodge the past several weeks, keeping many Society scholars and casters busy and away from the public eye. This follows a recent conflict at the Grand Lodge that the Society kept from spilling into the rest of the city.
Forgrim heard that supposedly the Society has reassembled the Sky Key, a dwarven relic it started piecing back together a year ago. The Society has been “secretly” buying up large quantities of sky metal whenever it appears in the market. The Pathfinders have also been recruiting dozens of arcane spellcasters, especially evokers.
As for knowledge, Tenibri knows that the field has been marked out with a series of circles, which are unusual for social gatherings but standard for arcane rituals. He also knows that locals call this field the Bloodwatered Meadow. Many of the invading armies that tried to conquer Absalom assembled here before being defeated.
Forgrim knows that the assemblage of circles suggests a conjuration ritual, but there are enough variations that even this seems unlikely. He also recalls that one of the most famous conflicts here did not even involve Absalom’s army. The Linnorm King Yardvun Skolson clashed with the Thuvian warlord Attagesha hundreds of years ago as both attempted to besiege the city at the same time but refused to share the glory with each. They crippled each other’s forces and were forced to retreat without ever attacking Absalom.
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“Welcome, my countless eager scholars! Today we are about to witness a wondrous and strange new chapter in the Pathfinder Society’s history. But first, please everyone take a moment of silence to remember our lost Master of Spells and my close friend, Aram Zey. While many of you found his manner abrasive, he fully believed in the Society’s goals of exploration and cooperation, and I know his loss will be deeply felt by us all.” After a moment, Kreighton Shaine continues.
“You may have heard rumors about the Sky Key, an artifact coveted by the dwarves of Jormurdun. A few of you even managed to recover pieces of it. But—and this is the important part—the Sky Key is no dwarven relic. The dwarves found this artifact in one of Numeria’s many wrecks and struggled to master its abilities just as we have spent the past several months doing. But now… now we have this assembled... wonder.”
The Master of Scrolls pulls back a canvas tarp, revealing… a bed of withered roses.
“The Key itself is secure in a small chamber we’ve constructed below this field, and it is connected to the surface here by a series of adamantine rods and mithral cables.” He taps a dark metal shaft beside him. “This formerly-award-winning bed of roses, however, we have left sitting here for two weeks without sun or water.”
His hands weave an arcane pattern, and arcs of lightning leap from his fingertips to the rod. A chest-shaking hum rises from somewhere below, and a bubble of green light enfolds the roses, revealing a flower bed of vibrant reds, purples, and yellows where only withered brown stood moments before.
“This is the power of the Sky Key: It creates a window into the past. No longer will the Society have to pick at the precious few scraps...
Momentarily distracted by the sounds of snickering coming from the back, Agirran returns his attention to the Master of Scrolls.
"And no longer will the Society have to water the lawn." Agirran says wryly over his crossed arms.
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The Society’s efforts have indeed created a bubble of time capturing a moment from the Age of Serpents some 10,000 years prior, when the sprawling city of Sessegishoss covered much of what is now the Isle of Kortos. In this part, the Pathfinders must spread out to explore as much of this summoned serpentfolk city block as they can as the Society’s mages maintain the Sky Key’s temporal bubble. Pathfinder scribes and messengers constantly move between the various agents, alerting them to new developments.
The lowest level of the temple complex consists of sprawling networks of caverns and artificial tunnels used as animal pens, stables, cave gardens, and training facilities for Ydersius’ holy animals, guards beasts, and draft dinosaurs.
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"Pleasure is all ours, Ms. Noravia", the dwarf bows to her.
"I'm good with my axe and I have some tricks in my pocket", Ptolomeo stops for awhile, then continues, "speaking of pocket, this is my friend George", he shows his toad to her, which presents itself: * croak *
"So, to the Zoological Gardens I suppose?", Ptolomeo stands up with his axe in hands, ready for action.
"So, um, this way then?" Dewdrop says timidly. She's not much for leading, and is uncomfortable in the city. The Society's mission here is important however, so she soldiers on.
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As you progress not so stealthily discussing about butterflies and such through the zoological gardens, the stink of animal scat and rotting meat fills this massive cavern. Shelves, passageways, and fixtures have been carved into the wall by careful hands, each stylized to resemble a serpent’s head or body. Further on the tunnels, you stumble upon three unusual figures that attack you as soon as they catch a glimpse of your group!
Agirran, Dewdrop, Forgrim, Ptolomeo, Tenibri, Kyran
Baddies