|
Eadie moves toward the demon and attacks it with her blade- it slices through the demon with surprising ease. Weren't these things supposed to be tougher?
Lhug launches through the twisting corridors and his blade as well strikes the demon down in one thrust.
Ruprecht moves through the twisting halls and his acid flask just barely misses the monster.
|
|
Lore had to get in close to make contact with the demon (those black lines are indeed walls). However, the flame bounces from the wall and doesn't seem to touch the demon much at all.
The demon steps back and casts a spell!
Fleetwood doesn't know anything about these things. He fires his crossbow, but it never stood a chance.
|
Eadie says matter-of-factly. “Hey everyone! Please note that Mwangi Horned Slugs are immune to attacks from plants, but have a vulnerability to salt. Isn't that right, Fleetwood?”
|
|
After Gim finds a good spot to settle his axe into the demon, Eadie comes and ruins all of the fun. Her blade slices through the creature with ease.
Now that the fight is over, Ruprecht goes back to sifting through the papers left in the main chamber. The charred corpse is all that is left of Gandros’s (the crazed man that started this mission) father, Relios. Amidst the furniture is a desk with several log books and journals. Most of them detail the day-to-day transactions of the Emporium, but one is Relios’s personal journal. It details the goings on of many of his wealthy clients, as well as Relios’s personal life including the details of his ancestry and his son’s birth. One of the last ledgers mentions that Relios was falling on hard times and intended to sell his wayfinder back to the Pathfinder Society. The ledgers also show that Relios was selling a steady stream of yellowcap mushrooms to members of the pre-revolution high society in Augustana.
he mushrooms cause hallucinations when eaten. Yellowcaps were a popular drug among the nobility decades ago, but fell out of fashion in the wake of the People’s Revolution so are now worthless. More faerie effigies hide among the mushrooms, and on the very back wall, Gandros has painted a portal, a large circle of swirling color patterns. On the floor lies an open and empty scroll case next to a slightly charred, blank piece of parchment. Clearly the use of that scroll didn't end so well.
|
|
"Well in the scheme of things, they died relatively easily... I'm surprised. But good work, Eadie!"
Eadie re-sheathes her blade and curtsies with a smile to her friend.
However … once the party is back in the ‘throne’ room, the young warrior listens in silence to Ruprecht’s recounting of the life and times of the ‘King of Augustana.’
Eadie walks over to the painted ‘portal’ and contemplates it sadly. She *sighs* and shakes her head, before seeking confirmation from wiser heads.
“So, that guy with VC Wallace is just some bum whose father was a pusher?”
“Holy Got My Hopes Up, Lore! There was never any parallel universe or time travelling or anything … You guys were right all along.”
“You know what that means, don’t you? No time travel or noble title for me.”
Eadie pouts. “Just normal adventures to go on … with pirates, dragons, magic and treasure ...” *Hmph*
|
|
Armored in cotton instead of brass, Eadie looks up from the lemon soufflé recipe with a puzzled frown.
“Are you sure, Lore? I thought ‘separating an egg’ meant separating the shell from the inside.”
Later … Eadie can’t help herself. Like a kid peeking under the wrapping of an Absalom Foundation Day present, Eadie has knelt down and opened the door of the wood-oven a few inches to check whether her soufflé is rising or not.
Please Abadar … Please Abadar ...
Eadie looks up at the petite priestess – an enormous smile spread across her plain features. “It’s rising, Lore! It’s rising! Thank-you so much for helping me.”
She the oven door shut in triumph.
“Wow, Lore! You are too good a chef to work for someone else. You should get your own place. I could be your Sous-Chef!”
|
|
After her previous day’s labor in the kitchen at Lore’s workplace, Eadie is looking forward to a lazy liberty day curled up in her dorm room reading a novel. It’s the perfect time with her more rambunctious roommate away on a mission in the River Kingdoms.
As she heads back to the barracks from breakfast, a novice yet to take Confirmation intercepts her. “Agent Navhelan, right? Sapphire Sage wants to see you in Skyreach - now, ma’am.”
Eadie *sighs* What have I done now? But makes her way obediently to her Faction head’s office.
When she arrives, Amenopheus is nowhere to be seen. BUT, a small green outsider or construct – Eadie can’t tell whether it’s an imp, quasit, mephit or homunculus leads her to one of the many record halls in the complex.
In a surprisingly deep and authoritative voice it says. “The Sapphire Sage wants an audit conducted on all of the Pathfinder Chronicles submitted by the members of your last party. As a consolation, as soon as you’re finished, you can take the rest of the day off.”
Eadie gasps in disbelief. “But, I won’t get through all of that until late tonight.”
The creature *smirks* “Well then, as soon as you’re finished, you can take the rest of the night off.”
Much later … Eadie trudges her way back to the mess hall in Skyreach for a late supper and stumbles into a familiar dwarven figure.
“Grim!! What was the name of that new pub you mentioned? Any chance of a trip there? I wouldn't mind a drink. Have you seen any of the others? Maybe they’d like to come too?”
|
After "many long hours" on his knees (no jokes) thanking Milani for her blessings Fleetwood notices his thirst.
After the above observation he enters said bar and saunters up to Brother Grim stating in an uncharacteristically sarcastic manner:
"Pray good sir I am but a poor traveler in search of sustenance, wouldst thou knoweth of a quenching draught?"