Overflow Archives, an increasingly notorious repository where innumerable texts and relics accumulate in an unclassified jumble while awaiting proper attention. The archive had once served as a temple to Desna early in Absalom’s history before being refurbished by the Society.
You have been summoned by Master of Scrolls Kreighton Shaine to the Archives to investigate a sudden influx of seawater. You must find the source of the seawater so you can save the Archives before it is too late.
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Alexandre walks into the archive, stretching as he enters. The faint smells of seawater still cling to the man and the gear he drags into the archive, signifying a recent returnee from a mission elsewhere. He looks around the entryway of the repository curiously as he speaks. "Master Shaine, I wasn't expecting a call so quickly after arriving from Sothis. Whatever's happening must be serious then. What's the problem?" he finally states, looking around the room, in hopes that whomever is assigned to this madness with him can efficiently deal with this.
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Hamith enters the archive, a fresh scar from what looks to have been a deep, deep wound lining the base of his neck. A tall man with features equal parts Varisian and Ulfen, he wears full plate armor etched with the sword-and-sunburst symbol of Iomedae across his breastplate. He holds his helmet under his arm, his sweat-matted hair revealing he only just removed it before entering. A greatsword adorned with the same holy symbols lay sheathed across his back.
"Hamith Caid, to answer the call." He looks to those already gathered. "Well met, fellow Pathfinders."
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A pretty, young woman of obvious Chelish decent enters the room with a worried look upon her face. Despite her rushed arrival, everything about her looks to be in perfect order; every dark hair in smoothed back into a simple ponytail and her clothing appears neatly pressed with nary a wrinkle to be seen. "I came as quickly as I heard the news, Master Shaine! Do we know what has caused this incident? Did one of those novices not properly secure one of the artifacts?" Her cheeks darken in anger at the last question. "I have told them time and time again, the Archives are an important business, not to be taken lightly!"
She clears her throat and clasps her hands in front of her, taking a moment to calm herself. She nods to Master Shaine and turns to look at her fellow Pathfinders. "Please pardon my manners. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Cornelia d'Malheur, one of the Archivists for the Society, if you have not already reached that conclusion yourselves." She immediately begins smoothing down her already perfect clothing and hair with precise, meticulous movements while she waits for more information.
You gather in one of the Grand Lodge's outbuildings.
“I have no love of puns,” announces a peeved Kreighton Shaine, the Master of Scrolls in the Grand Lodge, “Yet it cannot
go unremarked that the Overflow Archives have begun living up to their name.” The pale elf gestures across the library’s stone lobby toward a pair of shut double doors from beneath which water steadily seeps. He is only one of the midnight visitors bearing witness to this disaster.
Next to Shaine, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen stands with folded arms, glaring at an initiate whose hair and clothes are utterly drenched.
All three speak at once, but Shaine’s shrill voice rises above the din.“Magical shenanigans in the archives are prohibited, especially this soon before the Grand Convocation!”
“Let us prioritize,” Dralneen suggests. “Are the artifacts within the vaults in danger?”
“How should I know?” Shaine barks back. “This delinquent initiate—what was the name? Wormell?”
“Virml, sir,” replies the sodden Pathfinder. “Virml says he sneaked into the archives on a dare,” summarizes Shaine, painfully emphasizing the initiate’s name with scolding disdain. “Presumably, he thought the holdings would be harmless. Instead, in his naivete, Virml triggered some dormant curse or other. So, yes, thanks to Virml here, the archives and the vaults below continue to flood, threatening all the books therein.”
Miserably, Virml holds up an armload of soggy manuscripts. “I salvaged a few, sir.”
Sighing, Shaine leads Virml towards the stairs. “Take them up to the scriptorium. Start making dry copies.” Then, turning to survey the rest of the room, he continues issuing orders.“The remainder of you should wade in there and plumb the origins of this deluge. Stop it, if you can. I must report this debacle to my colleagues and begin organizing the cleanup.” Abruptly, he seems to notice the paracountess for the first time.“What are you doing here, Dralneen?”
Zarta smirks and shrugs.“Unlike you, Shaine, I love a good pun.
The three seem uneasy and eager to leave.
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Alexandre looks visibly annoyed at the situation. I get off a boat from the bloody desert, to have to clean up after an initiate with no common sense....
He shakes his head, then glares at Virml. "What exactly did you do?" he doesn't quite growl at the soaking initiate, though it's close. "You have to remember something."
After a moment of irritation, Alexandre closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before focusing his gaze on Master Shaine. In a less irritated tone, he asks, "Master Shaine, is there anything particularly dangerous stored here that we need to be aware of?"
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At first Ashara ignores more pressing concerns and speaks to the initiate "A mistake is a mistake and you'll have to take responsability for it Virml. Your penance might be harsh but I'm sure it will help you turn into a much better pathfinder in the end. Try not to resent it but embrace it instead as a chance to learn something useful!"
Then the oracle turns towards Shaine and Dralneen:"Let us be clear: are you asking for us to investigate the flood and then try to stop it or do you want us to just help salvage scrolls and artifacts?" she asks sounding suspicious.
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Hamith asks, "When did the deluge begin? Do you have any information on the area the good initiate here had been in before this act of misfortune occurred?"
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Virml feebly volunteers that he rescued a few texts before Shaine
interrupts. “Don’t waste your time with the individual pieces. You must arrest the flood at its source—or reverse it,if possible.”
Shaine reports, “Our delinquent initiate here is vague on the details. But clearly, some unclassified item in there must have borne a well-concealed curse.”
Virml sheepishly relates,“I…I merely picked up a wee scroll, read part of it aloud for fun—some kind of riddle about birds and fish?
And then it flew to bits in my hand, and I caught the quickest glimpse of a handsome man…and then ker-sploosh! I washed out here!
Kreighton Shaine quickly reviews the titles. “Let’s see…various accounts of the First World and the fey that inhabit it. Nothing
here is priceless, but it is worth recopying, thanks to the severe water damage.”
Even as Zarta answers it seems as if she is more focused on one member of your party. As they answer it is sometimes hard to understand because they constantly want to interrupt each other.
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Cornelia gives the initiate a scathing look during the exchange and huffs at what she believes to be a silly question. "Well of course there are dangerous artifacts in there! This is the Overflow Archives, this is where we store everything waiting to be classified and identified! There could be any number of benign and malign objects in there. So what ever you... Do. Not. Touch. Anything."
clears her throat and smooths out her hair again before turning to Virml. "What, exactly, did the riddle say? Word for word mind you. And do not give me any of that 'I don't remember' nonsense, young man! I take this very seriously. As well as you should, obviously." She indicates the flowing water.
Virml sheepishly produces a dripping fragment of a scroll.
Shaine snatches the parchment and hands it over, saying “It appears to be one of the rhymes from The Name of the Fox. It’s an odd little scroll of Varisian doggerel, scripted in Sylvan. There’s nothing remarkable about it—” “Nothing until now, perhaps?” quips Zarta Dralneen
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Cornelia looks at Shaine expectantly. "May I, Master Shaine?" She nods her head at the parchment and takes it gingerly. "Thank you."
She smiles a little at Zarta's quip. "The first lesson of handling magical items is one that I learned at a very young age; they can be disguised as the most innocuous or mundane item and those, typically, are the most dangerous." She spends some time examining the riddle for a few moments, thinking on whether she recognizes the phrase.
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The mention of a riddle in Sylvan distinctly catches Alexandre's attention and he quickly steps toward Cornelia to study the piece as well. Looking
at the scrap, he reads it aloud first in Sylvan, then after completing the first line, he stops and starts over, this time in Taldane.
After a moment's pause, he asks to himself, "Why is this called 'The Name of the Fox?' There's nothing to do with a fox in this piece."
After a moment, he shakes his head and nods to the Master of Scrolls. "Very well, sir. We will return with good news." And with that, she heads toward the door to the archive proper.
As the Pathfinders finish with their questions,Shaine leaves the building through the west doors, and Virml is scene headed upstairs to the scriptorium to copy the soaked tomes.
As Shaine and Virml leave Zarta pulls Cornelia aside so no one hears what she says.
“The Dark Archive thrives by the good graces of the Decemvirate and Ambrus Valsin, yet I can tell that some still doubt our ability to handle truly dangerous relics and the rare disaster like this. As a result, there remain many storerooms barred to our comprehensive study, including the Overflow Archives—until today, that is. It is critical that you minimize the damage to these archives and do so in as professional a manner as possible. If I can demonstrate that my agents are capable and trustworthy, we may win permission to study the truly mysterious treasures beneath the Grand Lodge.”She shrugs and smiles before continuing. “That said, I know that there is more than junk beyond those doors. I’ve heard that someone squirreled away a copy of The Darklands Precepts somewhere in there, and it’s far too dangerous a tome to leave lying about. Get it out of there and return it to me, no matter what excuse Shaine might make to toss it back in the pile.”
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"Indeed," Hamith says. "We should go down and find the source. Who is to take the lead?"
He asks this question clearly preferring to be on the front lines. Worn holy charms hang from the joints of his full plate, most of Mendevian origin.
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As the Pathfinders finish with their questions they eagerly, but cautiously move deeper into the Archives. They hope to find the source of the water so they can put a stop to it and salvage what's left.
This spacious library is a damp catastrophe. A lake of dark water clogged with books, scroll cases, and a few overturned shelves obscures the oor. Steps descend into the brine from the western doors, while at the east end of the room a spiral staircase rises from the water to a mezzanine above. The same metal staircase must descend into a basement below as well, for the water there burbles downward in a dark, lazy whirlpool.
There is a small drain on the west of the room, near the entrance, it seems to be clogged with papers/scrolls
In the distance, near the spiral staircase, you notice two figures on a makeshift boat, created by one of the shelves in this area nonetheless, they look to be fishing
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Ashara looks at the figures in disbelief:"Fishing down here? How's that even possible? And who are these two???" she mumbles moving forward cautiously.
"Hello there" she says once she's near enough to be heard but not enough to be in immediate danger:"Care to explain who are you and what are you doing here?" she asks
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Once they enter the Archives, Cornelia keeps her sharp eyes constantly searching and notices the clogged drain. "We must unclog that drain and attempt to salvage anything we can of the scrolls lodged within."
She spots to two figures and tries to search her memory for anything she might recall about them...
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Alexandre winces upon seeing the state of this room. This will require more then a team of Pathfinders to clean up.... Hell, It'll likely take an army of wizards..... Still, duty required going forward, and as such, Alexandre slowly steps into the water stepping slowly down since the bottom isn't easily apparent.
Cornelia's almost-demands shake him from introspection, though. "Let's figure out the cause before we try salvaging anything," He replies quickly. "We could make things worse." He looks around the damp mess, before focusing on the two fishermen. "The heck?" he mutters before trying to wade toward them. "Hail, fisherfolk! How goes the catch?," trying to play carrot to Ashara's stick.
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Hamith says, "I believe you have it right, Alexandre. We should discover the source and purge it's wickedness."
He joins the others in calling out. "we shall not harm you if you come in peace good people. You have my word as a knight of the Inheritor."
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As the Pathfinders enter the room they notice a scroll of bull’s strength and a scroll of comprehend languages and a scroll of daylight floating in the water.
As you approach the figures, you notice that they don't look like normal creatures, they can only be described as medium sized creatures wearing grey and green light armor, they have grand wings, and one of them has the head of an owl, and the other one, an albatross!
Prior to your approach, you hear them bickering with each other, over a scroll."Hey I caught that! This should be mine!" the owl bickers.
"I saw it first! It's mine!"Rebukes the albatross.
You recognized these creatures as Gathlains.
According to some fey ballads, gathlains were one of the first peoples awakened in the primal world of fey. They were created from the seeds of an enormous magical tree, with the tree’s mistletoe grown into their flesh forming their strange wings.
Mischievous and capricious, these creatures have discordant temperaments. They act purely to entertain themselves and sate their immense curiosity about the world around them. That very curiosity has caused many to migrate to the Material Plane and adventure there. These gathlains seek out and attempt to mingle with gnomes. However, gnomes often find gathlains too undisciplined, random, and foolish for their tastes.
As the Pathfinders approach them, they both stop bickering towards each other and take out their anger on them! Hey Hey! Don't come any closer! You're spoiling our spot, you'll chase away our fish!" They start waving their fishing spear and rods at you!
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"Sorry. Rest assured we don't want to disturb your... fishing... more than absolutely needed. So help us and we'll be on our way. Can you tell us what happened here? This place used to be much drier. Where does this water come from? And what... or who, caused it to flood this place?" asks Ashara trying to reason with the creatures.
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Hamith says, "Yes, my companion is correct. Do you know anything about how this water started?"
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The first thing that flows through Alexandre's head upon getting a good look at the pair of fishermen is the piece of the scroll that Virml gave them. "Cross was the owl to the albatross...," he mutters while looking at the pair. "I wonder..." he muses before speaking up to the duo. "Excuse me, but which one of you is Owl, and which is Albatross?," hoping that the obvious answer is the correct one.
"Give that to me."says the albatross.
"No its mine" says the owl.
Reluctantly the albatross hands over the not to Ashara due to her supreme diplomatic skills.
"Here is scroll we caught.
"Please we don't want to be eaten by the big sleeper. I think she down stairs"whispers the albatross.
"Please don't bring back the smarty pants dog cat who let us out. We don't know where he is. He splash down in our fishing hole and scare all the fish away. Please we don't want to be eaten."The owl whispers so not to raise commotion.
"I don't know anything about the cat dog.". The albatross states.
" The big sleeper, yes that is where water come from." States the owl.
"Please don't let her eat is."
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Alexandre frowns, then rereads the first scrap of the scroll. "...catching the bulk of the fish/So the owl casts deeper/Awaking a sleeper/who made of both feathers one dish...." He looks up at the others. "From that doggerel, I'd guess a big fish or octopus, maybe? In any case, we can't avoid it. Our fine feathered friends here said that the sleeper is the source of the water that we need to stop." He turns to the pair. "You said it's downstairs, right?"
The pathfinders walk through the lazy swirling whirpool with ease as they walk up the stairs. Upstairs, there is not much different in terms of setup, some shelfs, some benches, except it's not that wet save the area near the spiral staircase. And not to forget the giant fish, floating in mid air, it is orange in colour and has four eyes, just wandering about. From under her belly, short spurts of water come out from under her belly.
A grodair is a bloated aquatic creature from the primal world of the fey. The bulbous sac on its spine is an extradimensional space that can contain thousands of gallons of water. The creature drains water (including small bits of debris and even very small creatures) from one place and releases it in another, typically creating boggy areas as it moves so it can travel more quickly than its tentacles can carry it. A grodair can rise up to 6 feet on its tentacles, measures 7 feet long, and weighs about 400 pounds.
A grodair is intelligent, but extremely absentminded and careless. Its memory is poor, and it has difficulty remembering things it was told even 5 minutes prior—though it can recall some events of the distant past with perfect (and often frustrating) clarity.
The creature only speaks Aquan, Sylvan, and Varisian
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Cornelia stops abruptly when they finally identify the source of the water. "Ah, a grodair. That makes sense. We must be dealing with some sort of fey curse, these have all been creatures of the First World. Although this one does not speak any languages that I know. Perhaps one of you speaks Sylvan, Aquan, or Varisian?" She asks hopefully.