|
As you enter the room, you spy a plain-faced young woman of about average height already seated at the table. She wears shining brass armor and a simple spiked cap. She is nervously chewing the edge of a white linen headdress, which is flowing from the cap’s spike over her shoulders.
When her teeth release the edge of the veil, you notice she sports a large bruise on her chin, which is just starting to turn yellow. Open-mouthed now, the warrior appears to be deep in thought about ...
Well, here goes nothing …
The business is located in one of the seedier parts of the Docks district, in a convenient location for newly arrived sailors. With more than a little apprehension, Eadie takes a deep breath and pushes the stout, oaken door open.
The middle-aged woman lounging behind the reception table looks up from her paper. A smile comes over her metal-studded face as she quickly sizes up the young warrior, assessing correctly that she’s a first timer.
“Hello, Sweet Heart. What can we do for you today?”
Although she can detect the scent of flay-leaf in the air, Eadie is surprised by how clean the front room is. She smiles nervously at the older woman and flourishes a piece of paper at her.
The woman raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, you’ve written down what you want? OK … let’s have a look. Hmmm, different! But I can probably do you for a good price.”
“When you’re ready Honey, head out the back to the room with the green door and start taking your clothes off. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Ten minutes later, Eadie is looking down at her feet as she hears the door open. The same woman enters bearing a few tools of her profession.
“OK Sweetie, let’s have you.”
Eadie eventually looks up at what the woman has prepared for her … and faints dead away …
|
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.
|
|
Eadie leans over to give the tall elf a hug, being careful not to break any of the various bottles and vials he bears.
“Hi, Ru! It’s so good to see you!”
To his polite enquiry about the bruise on her face, Eadie looks up and with her mouth slightly open says: “Ahh yeah ... the bruise … it happened after unarmed combat training.”
Quite a few hours after, actually.
“Someone pulled a surprise move on me and I got knocked out.”
|
|
Sense Motive
Ruprecht was prepared to ask a bit more about the bruise, but upon the Venture Captain's assignment, he decided to wait on that particular issue.
"You want to wait and see who else is with us before we start questioning the man, Eadie? I'd hate to make him tell his story several times over."
|
|
Grateful for the Venture-Captain’s opening, Eadie pounces on Ruprecht’s statement, like Grim on a beef-steak.
*Casually* “Hmm … might be best. I am curious to see who else is in the party, and what they're like.”
"An out-of-breath Venture-Captain is never a pretty sight."
"Have you got a favorite VC, Ruprecht?"
|
Just at the start of the Venture-Captain's speech, a rotund dwarf plods into the room, huffing and puffing and rests against the doorframe to wipe sweat from his brow.
"Wow. I ain't much for them ships an sailin. I thought I heard me name mentioned just now and something about beef steaks? Oh probably my imagination. I am sure we can get a bite to eat later."
The dwarf stops and bows to the venture-captain, realizing he interrupted a discussion already in progress. He bows as much as his girth allows.
"My pardon. Grim, er Brother Grimdoc Clanhammer at yer service. Oh Eadie? Ruprecht? Is that you? HAH so it is! I think our friend little Lore was right behind me talkin with a couple others. I will look outside and see if she is comin down this way."
|
|
Ruprecht shrugs. "Eh, they're all about the same in my admittedly small sample size. They all seem really quickly to farm out the grunt work, that's for sure. VC seems like a nice cushy job. I'm sure it would get terribly boring, though."
Eadie closes her eyes briefly and tries to picture a future Venture-Captain Ruprecht Antillious briefing a fresh-faced group of Pathfinder agents.
She is not surprised to find that she can. Easily!
“Yeah, I don’t think sending Pathfinders to their death on the orders of masked mucky-mucks would be much fun.”
She leans her head a bit closer to the elf and whispers. “Have you heard they’re considering an expedition to Bonekeep.” **shudders**
Eadie thinks some more. “The Ten probably only let Venture-Captains into their private quarters, right?”
“Can you imagine it?” **Affected Taldan accent** “I say, Valsin old chap. Be a good fellow and empty my chamber pot, would you? Can’t have any of the riff-raff in here, what!”
“Also, how many times would they be interrupted by unruly agents just having a chat in their briefing … Oh sorry, Venture-Captain Wallace. Did you say something?”
"Hang on, Grim. You don't get out of a hug from me that easily."
After she embraces the dwarf, the warrior says. "Have you lost weight? Must be all that fresh, sea air on the way over to Andoran."
|
|
Ruprecht smiles at Eadie's humor. He hadn't met many agents as good with a weapon, and yet so chipper about life. He hoped more missions with her would be in order.
At hearing another of his chum's voice, he again smiled broadly. There was Grim, the dwarf he got on with just as well as any elf he'd spent time with. "Greetings, Grim. Happy to see you...and Lore is with us as well? Facing almost certain death is much more palatable when you have a group of friends at your side!"
|
|
Lore practically bounces in, her chainmail jangling about her. "Oh... my favorite people all back again." She gives Ruprecht a big hug, then Eadie, then Grim the longest hug of all. "It's so good to see you all again!. Where is Tomoe? is she not joining us this time?" She is all grins and giggles as she speaks, and can barely seem to contain her joy in her small body. "Sarenrae bless you all, my friends!"
She listens to the Venture-captain's short speech... then looks to the door. "Should we wait to see if there are others joining us, or just go in and speak with the fellow now?"
|
|
Eadie smiles at Ruprecht, turns in her chair and casually places a hand on the elf’s shoulder to help her stand before returning Lore’s embrace warmly. “Hi, Lore! It’s great to see you too!”
“If no one objects, I can’t see any reason why we can’t just go and talk to the vagrant or whatever he is now. If there are any other agents coming with us, maybe they’re already out speaking with the fellow(?)” The young warrior *shrugs*
Eadie keeps chatting as they plot a course of action. “Grim, did you end up going to that new tavern that’s just opened in Absalom? What's it called again?”
“I was going to … but didn’t want to go as a female on my own.”
“Anyway I’m sure I didn’t miss much.”
“It’s probably just another seedy dive! I know the type:
♨ So noisy you can’t hear yourself think!
♨ Floor’s filthy and slick with spilt ale.
♨ Full of tobacco smoke, AND
♨ Packed to the rafters with big, fit Pathfinders ... with smooth pecs … bulging biceps and ...… perfect abs …”
Eadie suddenly stop speaking. A dreamy expression comes over face.
“Lore, maybe we do owe it to Grim to check it out? Just to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. Ruprecht you’d come too, right?”
|
Quietly opening the door an aged gentleman with silvery hair glances in your direction, muttering
"This must be the place".
Then in a hushed tone "I am Fleetwood, I am pleased to meet all of you".
You notice a slight sheen to his skin, silvery to be sure. His steel armor brightly gleams in the dimly lit room, newly polished giving you insight to his fastidiousness.
Surmising the room in one sweep of his head, "Shall we begin? Time wasted is life wasted!"
|
|
"Welcome Fleetwood, is it? Good ta meet ya! Grim's the name and eating and um drinking is me game! HAHRHRR. Anyway, I will let the others introduce themselves. I ain't no bard ya know."
Turning back to the ladies.
"Ah yes, the new place was nice. Lots of weird new drinks. I just like my ale, but they made good at that! The Filosten's Frothing Alembic is the name of the place. And when we get done with this here mission, I will buy the first round or my name ain't Grim. Well that is my name, but I am more jovial than it sounds. Anyway...our mission stands in the way of our drinkin, so let's get back to it."
|
|
"Welcome Fleetwood. I'm Lorelendral, but you can call me Lore, most people do. Blessings of Sarenrae on you this fine day. Your skin is very interesting... I love the color, it's so unique!" says the purple-haired gnome.
"Grim, you're on for that drink. I've got to be there... someone has to keep Eadie out of trouble." She laughs a bit and gives Eadie a broad wink and a smile.
|
Having taken this time to roll a hand twist of tobacco with an inappropriate amount of patience and care, Lhug-mor sparks a flame and takes a long pull. "Welcome Fleetwood, it's been a while." Shifting his katana scabbard, turning back to the ladies, and exhaling a thick stream of smoke, "You can depend on a dwarf to know where a pub is for sure, but agreed, let's get back to it."
|
|
"Sounds good. Lhug-mor? Is that with a long or short 'u' sound? Ah, Whadda I know. Welcome aboard. Let's talk to this misfortunate soul, listen to his fantastic tale and then get back to our real business. Haarhh!" the rotund dwarf laughs as he walks to the back door.
Unless anyone else wants to go first, Grim will open the door and look inside.
|
|
Lore, right behind Grim, stands ready to use her diplomatic skills to put the fellow at some ease and get as much information out of him as possible. "Remember, Grim, that diplomacy is not your forte... please let me start the proceedings... and if diplomacy fails, you can perhaps intimidate him, okay?"
|
|
“Hi, Lhug-mor. Please call me Eadie.” Kewl name!
“Is that a katana you carry? Have you spent time in Tian Xia?”
"Shall we begin? Time wasted is life wasted!"
Woah, that is almost my personal motto!
Eadie smiles in welcome. “I like the cut of your jib, Sir. Eadie at your service!”
“My Aunt Alix (Abadar rest her soul) used to call me impatient! Can you believe it?”
“But I contend our lives are made of time and their quality determined by the people we spend that time with.”
She gestures to the doorway. “Shall we?”
|
|
After becoming aquanted with each other, a Venture-Captains aide leads you to the back of the main hall, were 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. He has an incredibly filthy visage, matted white hair, and infirmity that can not go unnoticed. Hearing the sound of scuffling footsteps, his eyes blast open-
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 pauses for a moment to roll up his sleeve and reveals a series of recently inflicted claw and tooth marks on his right forearm. He then launches into a breathless retelling of how he came to be in the Lodge.
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!
Finally the man stops talking and takes a couple of deep breaths, panting as if he had just run to the central market for the fresh pulls from the sea.
Grim stands with his mouth open, blinking in disbelief at the story just told.
|
|
Lore listens to the man's fanciful tale, and tries to gauge the truth of the his statements from his body language and the timber of his voice. She observes his appearance carefully for any disparity between his visage and his tale.
Lore tries to be as diplomatic as she can. "That's quite a tale. You must have had a harrowing experience. Please, can you perhaps give us some details of what needs to be done to restore you to your rightful throne. Where must we go, and can we expect to find allies as well as enemies on this quest?"
|
|
Eadie draws her falchion and moves in front of the Prince of Augustana’s ‘throne.’
She kneels, bows her head and places her blade at the man’s feet.
“Your Grace, I am model citizen zero discipline Eadie Navhelan, loyal daughter of the empire that bears your father’s sigil.” The Glyph of the Open Road.
Don’t think I’ll mention that I’m Chelaxian.
“My liege, this poor soldier is sadly ignorant. Please give her the benefit of your unparalleled wisdom. What year or Age is it? Is that noble god of humanity Aroden, still treading Golarion or has he passed on to the Great Beyond as many others say and if so, how long ago did he pass? From whence did you acquire this Wayfinder device and where have you been in hiding?”
Eadie raises her eyes a little in supplication. “Sire, to further your goals efficiently, it might help if my … level of authority was … boosted a bit. I would be honored to be knighted by your hand as Lady Eadie, Knight Bachelorette of the Glorious Empire of Andoran!”
She adds … “You can use my falchion if you like …”
“By Your Grace’s leave …”
She then withdraws to examine the Wayfinder with Lhug-mor if the prince hands it over.
|
|
Your first few questions go unanswered, as if you are not even in the room. After a few minutes, Lhug remembers that he is in the presence of nobility and addresses the man as "Your Liege." At least that gets a response, but the man's answers are riddles and confusing. It doesn't add up much to your knowledge of history but the man seems convinced that he is indeed the Prince of Andoran!
He is dressed in filthy rags. He hasn't cleaned himself in ages. The way finder is no longer present.
|
|
"Fleetwood, you might inspect that injury. See what caused it and when. He's been in the river so we might want to treat him for infection and disease. He might respond better if we refer to him by his title, but he might be ignoring this deferential young lady, which might tell us more about his condition. "
|
|
Walking towards the self proclaimed prince, Fleetwood looks over his shoulder at Lhug-Mor "Yes, yes yes. Heal this, heal that. One day I will be healing your lungs oh fuming one!"
Kneeling down in front of Prince Gandros, "May I assist my Prince?"
Fleetwood hovers his hand above the princes visible wounds and begins swaying and keening in a low loving tone
Glancing away from the Gandros claimant "In my view, it only matters who said enemies are then help this poor soul from oppression."
Turning back to Gandros"My Leige Prince Gandros, how did you come by these wounds? They are not, at first appearance grievous yet your pallor suggests you have been fleeing from your enemies for some time. Please enlighten us so we may better serve."
|
|
Fleetwood checks on the prince. He takes some acid from his healing flask and tries to the clean the wound. As soon as the acid hits the skin it starts to bubble and the man jerks away wildly cowering in the corner of the room. He cries as he slowly rocks himself into a trance.
Ruprecht searches his brain but can't make any sense of the names given.
Lhug doesn't know off of the top of his head where this might be. However, with a map and some local scouts perhaps...
The Pathfinders fruitlessly try to communicate with the prince, but he doesn't respond at all. Frustrated, you all finally leave his room and return back to Venture-Captain Wallace.
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.
Venture-Captain Wallace shows you the spot on the map of the likely sewer outlet from which the man ,Gandros, came. It’s near the north end of the crowded Augustana harbor, near where the north harbor wall hits land.
|
|
Her petition being unsuccessful, Eadie snatches up her falchion and shoves it back into its sheath on her back with a loud *CLANG*
She stands up from her kneel with a sulky look on her face.
Lhug-mor calls him ‘My Liege’ and he responds. Why didn’t he say anything when called him that?
By the time they re-join Venture-Captain Wallace she has calmed down.
The fighter pushes a sponge into the dwarf’s hands. “Grim, please have my spare Potion of Touch of the Sea, I don’t need two. Hopefully, you won't need it though.”
To the bright priestess. “Lore, will you please take my scroll case of Unbreakable Heart again?”
The Sewers!?! Is he serious?
“Um, Venture-Captain Wallace … but you see I’ve just bought new boots …”