You are stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment. After several days, you finally receive a summons to join Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng in his office. Arriving at the appointed hour of the afternoon, you are surprised to find instead a halfling in dark robes waiting for you in the outer foyer.
"Hello, my name is Drel," he drawls in a thick Nidalese accent, stretching his name into three full syllables. "Venture-Captain Dreng was called away, and ask me to meet you. We will wait for all to arrive."
|
A young human woman of Varisian descent impatiently takes a seat as she waits for the others to arrive. Over her studded leather armor, she wears various silks and scarves that declare her heritage, while her dark hair is worn over her shoulders. Her blue eyes scan the room as she tries to occupy herself during the wait, and she occasionally brushes her fingertips along the hilt of one of the three sheafed daggers she carries with her.
"Natalia Markovich at your service," She finally introduces herself to the halfling after a few moments, "Will you be giving us the mission briefing? I don't know how this works."
|
A halfling with long black hair arrives in a hurry. "Good afternoon. Sorry, If I am late." He is sweating, while he comes close to the group cleans his forehead with the sleeve of his black wool coat. "WOW! This city is hot. I came from Port Ice. Where are you from? Where is the Venture-Captain? What are we waiting for?" Then, he just keep quiet, waiting for answers.
|
|
A nondescript man wearing dark, loose, robes enters. The symbol of the dawn flower showing above his heart. He has a neat beard and wears a turban on his head. " I am Ahmad ibn Fadlān ibn al-Abbās ibn Rāšid ibn Hammād." He introdeces himself with a bow. "A follower of Sarenrae, I wander the lands bringing her light to the darkness."
He looks to the halfling, "This is truly quite cool compared to the deserts of my home." he says.
|
A short woman dressed in functional leather armor sits in the back of the briefing room. Her dark hair is covered by a distinctly Qadiran head veil, worn extremely loosely in a way that would probably offend within more conservative satrapies, and her piercing eyes and tan skin mark her as some ethnicity deep within the Kelishite empire. Her accent, though, seems to be the drawl of the Taldan alleys, and the scar on her face (a bottle to the eye?) is unladylike indeed.
"I'm Lulu. Sarenrae is all right with me," she says with a grin.
|
Terribly sorry if I am late....I got a little wrapped up during my prayers. It is nice to meet all of you. I am Therin, at your service.
After noticing the distinct markings of another Sarenite....
Ahh, nice to see another follower on this mission. We will surely not fail now.
His voice has an Andoran accent to it.
|
Drel clears his throat after you finish introducing yourselves. "As you know, Venture-Captain Dreng has history of waking agents in middle of night with emergency mission," he begins, "so you should have known daytime meeting in office was too good to be true. The Venture-Captain wishes for you to meet him in front of Pig's Paunch tavern in the Docks. Here is map. Go meet Dreng. Of course, is raining," he observes, smiling sardonically.
You arrive soaked to the skin on a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.
"Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?" The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
"Sorry about that," he says with a wink. "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 again…?" Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
"Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors." As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venturecaptain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
"The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least."
"Yes, well... now, before you judge, despite my current attire, I’m still a man of taste. The parcel is actually a special vintage of wine from the cellar of the Wounded Wisp. I’ve been sampling their finer wines in descending order of bottling. I dare not disappear from my current role in this district, but I also would appreciate some comfort items - especially on a day such as this! After all, I doubt anyone would judge a supposed beggar sipping from a bottle of wine."
He glances around again before continuing."As for why I called all of you here... well, one never knows when one might be called upon to do more than the assigned task, eh? Better to be prepared than not!" There's a twinkle in his eye, and you get the sense that something is up.
|
|
Muroi gave a smile to Dismoon when he heard she came from a close but unfamiliar place.
In front of the Captain, Muroi keeps quiet and listen carefully every single word comming from captain's mouth. He is enjoying the warm rain, he could stand here for hours listening and learning from the Captain and his stories.
"Dismoon, I guess you are miscounting. We are six in this group, You, Ahmad, Therin, Lulu, The girl with the knifes, I don't know her name, and I. Am I right? Well, I am ready."
"Well, of course the Wounded Wisp is a very storied location... you never know who you might meet or what you might discover there," Dreng flashes one of his irritating smiles again. "Now, off you go, my belly could use the warmth that wine provides!" He pulls his rags closer around his face, and wanders off down the street, muttering to himself about how no one will give a poor old man any coin anymore.
|
While Drang and the group are speaking, a tall, verging on 6 feet, elven woman approaches them. She is drenched as all the others, and her clinging clothes emphasize her thinness. Her long hair is a rich honey blond and her eyes are deep blue.
As she reaches the clustered group she says quietly "I am Soumral, your seventh. I was kept late by a... meeting." Her Taldane bears a strong elven inflection, it is clearly very much a second language for her. She offers no greetings to any of the individuals in the group, nor any more information about herself. Instead she simply stands and listens silently to the briefing.
|
|
"Soumral, Lulu. You'd be the seventh, then. Quite a number for one bottle of wine." The Kelish woman has been quiet throughout the meeting with Dreng, although her eyes did narrow at Dreng's story. She trots after Natalia and Ahmad.
"I hadn't heard of the Wisp before--probably because I don't drink." She grins. "Do any of you know why it's so famous in Society history?" She brushes a few strands of soaked hair back under her headscarf, focuses, and little drops of water fly away from her head and shoulders with no apparent agency causing it. It doesn't make her any less damp though, and she gives up the effort.
[spoiler=Knowledge rolls]
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
Selmius Foster was one of the founding members of the Pathfinder Society, known to have frequented the Wisp often and occasionally taken up residence in a spare room between his travels. His celebrated exploits first appeared in Volume 1 of the Pathfinder Chronicles.
|
|
"It's where the founders of the Society met before they formed the organization. Many of the more famous and important Pathfinders still go there on occasion." Natalia explains after Lulu asks about the relevance of the Wounded Wisp, "If the rest of you are as new to the organization as I am, I'm sure there's something else there for us other than fetching an old man some wine."
With the map Dreng provided, you easily locate the Wounded Wisp. Built from dark, discolored wood, the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. The only distinguishing feature on the exterior of the building is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern - “the wisp” — that hangs there during the evening hours.
Inside, the in is hopping. The raised dining area along the south and east wall is full of diners, and the main floor is also nearly full. Pipe smoke, ale, and sweat fill the air. You see a pair of half-orcs who seem to be the rowdiest group. A bookish halfling woman ignores her meal in favor of the huge tome she is reading. Near the bar an middle-aged Kellish man dressed in the blue-and-gold robes of a Sarenite sits alone, drinking a glass of wine; he raises his glass to you as you enter.
Behind the bar, a single overworked bartender tries to juggle drink orders, deliver food from the kitchen, and fending off the unwelcome advances of a drunk Chelaxian. She looks at the clock as you come in, swears under her breath, and shouts, "Ye'll have to find yourselves a seat, I'm right run off me feet today, what with m'girl Kelly not showing up f'work. I'll get to you as soon as I can!" She piles six dinner plates up into an impossibly tall pile and heads off at a run towards the dining area.
|
|
Muroi enters and walks directly to the bar. He advance quickly, he doesn't like big groups, these make him feel uncomfortable. Talking to the bartender, nervous but firmly. "Hello, sorry if I bother you. My name is Muroi. I need two favors from you. First, when you have time, please, give me a glass with milk. Second, do you know who is Heryn Gale?
Muroi uses its charm to make the bartender a little bit more friendly and gather information.
|
|
Lulu, seeing places at the bar taken up, waves at Muroi. "Two milks," then shrugs as if she doesn't care if he hears him or not, and slides into a chair next to the half-orcs. "Seat taken?" she asks, although she doesn't wait for an answer. "I'm Lulu. Here with the rest of the new fish. What are you drinking?"
Therin: most of the folks seem to be Pathfinders, and are chatting about various previous adventures they've been on. Most of it sounds like "fishing tales" and one-upmanship. There is some discussion of recent scuffles with the Aspis Consortium, a rival organization who seems to have grown bolder in their harassment of Society business.
Dismoon: the group looks you over, and one of them nods to the empty chair. they continue without introduction, discussing the finer points of interrogating Aspis agents.
Soumral looks at the wine list and is surprized to see it rivals any place she's been. Alas, the bartender is rushing about and just holds up a finger to indictae that she must wait. She stands back at the bar listening. the din of conversation makes it hard to pick out individual voices, although the two half-orcs at the far table are practically yelling their. stories to each other, discussing a recent basalisk they fought and slew in the the seqers of Riddleport.
Natalia approaches the man in the turban. "Greetings. I am Aram bin Kaleel, Pathfinder. Please, join me."
Muroi approaches the bartender. "I'm Heryn, but I'm a bit stacked up already, it'll be a minute... grab a seat and I'll be right back."
Lulu sits down with the half-orcs, who don't notice for a moment. When they do, they welcome her with a back slap that nearly sends her out of her seat. "Sit down, little lady! Me buy you drink! HERYN, more ale!"
|
|
Soumral decides on something from the wine list that is good, but won't break the bank. While she waits for the opportunity to order, she looks down at the man seating almost directly in front of her.
"Why do you sit alone among all of this crowd?" she says to him. Although she doesn't mean it so, she is unaware that such a blunt statement could be taken in several different ways.
|
|
Lulu's breath gets slapped out with a whoosh, and she does almost a pirouette in her seat, but she recovers quickly--it's clear she's pretty tough for her size. "Ha! My fearsome halfling friend over at the bar is getting my order already--something far stronger than ale. Oh, is that Heryn? Looks like she's backed up. Who are you two, and what's the cause for celebration?"