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The crisp chill of the Arcadian Ocean can be clearly felt as it sweeps across the fetid waters of Riddleport Harbor and onto the city streets, and the briny air inspires recent memories. Only a few days ago, back in Magnimar, Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch detailed the covert mission from behind the oaken desk in her office.
“Lissala is the Thassilonian goddess of runes, fate, and obedience,” she explained. “Her followers are wicked and secretive, but they can be bought for the right price. The Aspis Consortium offered that price. In exchange for creating a back door into the Hao Jin Tapestry—a museum demiplane that we Pathfinders thought was entirely our own—the Aspis Consortium promised a river of wealth to the secretive cult. The Pathfinder Society ejected the Aspis Consortium from the Hao Jin Tapestry and the Consortium defaulted on its contract with the cult of Lissala. As you might expect from followers of a goddess of duty, the Lissalans are irate at the Aspis Consortium for defaulting. Tensions between the two groups are at their breaking point, and I need you to finish the job.
[b]“Vidrin Jenk is a silver agent in the Aspis Consortium, newly arrived in Riddleport and anxious to prove his worth to the organization. The Aspis Consortium recently purchased the Barracuda Cartage company, and Jenk operates out of the offices there. Jenk plans to patch up relations with the cult of Lissala, which is well hidden somewhere in Riddleport. To help him, Jenk requisitioned a group of Aspis Consortium specialists—all bronze agents led by a mysterious troubleshooter named Thestil Shadowtongue.”
At this point, Venture-Captain Heidmarch slid several bronze badges across the desk, some ecked with blood. “Those specialists aren’t going to make it to Riddleport. You are. I want you to pretend to be the Aspis Consortium agents Jenk requested. Do as he asks, but only to keep suspicion off of you until you find out where the cult of Lissala is hiding. Once you know that, I need you to do two things. First, sabotage the Lissalan safe house as completely as possible. Second, throw the blame for the sabotage onto the Aspis Consortium.
“How you complete these tasks I leave to your discretion, but I want you to keep murder to a minimum. One of the Lissalan cultists is feeding us information, and I don’t want to risk you killing this valuable source. Furthermore, we want the Lissalans to remain alive so they can turn their full ire against the Aspis Consortium. Once you’ve accomplished these two mission objectives, return here.”
Heidmarch smiles broadly. “Welcome to the Aspis Consortium. Any questions before you leave for Riddleport?”
Lissala was the Thassilonian deity of runes, fate, duty, and obedience. Her worshipers are generally sadistic self- agellants who believe that self-in icted pain opens the mind to enlightenment.
Lissala taught the seven virtues of rulership to Thassilonians, but these virtues became perverted under the runelords to re ect the seven mortal sins. At that time, Lissala’s worship grew more secretive and more sadistic. Many scholars assume that Lissala, like most Thassilonian gods, is no longer worshiped.
Lissala may have created rune magic. Her followers commonly use runes and glyphs, including rune-carved guardians akin to golems.
The Aspis Consortium is a supranational trade organization with shadowy leadership and a reputation for ruthless trade practices.
The Aspis Consortium hires countless common mercenaries and merchants. Bronze agents hold the lowest rank of actual membership in the Consortium. Bronze agents are overseen by silver agents, who are in turn overseen by gold agents. A gold agent usually administers affairs in a large city or small nation.
The Aspis Consortium has made several loans to power groups in Riddleport, including the three primary temples. These loans were drafted with intensely legalistic language and included steep interest rates, which the temples are often reluctant to pay, further entrenching them in debt.
Riddleport’s primary temples are the Publican House, a tavern-temple of Cayden Cailean; the House of the Silken Veil, a brothel-temple of Calistria; and the Fish Bowl, a temple of Besmara.
The Publican House is the tavern-temple of Cayden Cailean. All are welcome in this crowded, rowdy drinking hall, except for cyphermages. Gambling and drinking contests are common at the Publican House.
The Besmaran priests at the Fish Bowl are rumored to perform blood sacri ces on those who have displeased the Pirate Queen. These sacri ces o en involve feeding victims to dangerous sea creatures.
Worshipers of Calistria whisper that Shorafa Pamodae, mistress of the House of the Silken Veil, harbors a seething hatred of Vidrin Jenk.
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Before you is a hulking, female humanoid with oddly pink skin, tusks and pointed ears displaying both her Orc and Human heritage. Standing at 6ft 2 inches she is build like a massive heavy-weight lifter. Around her neck hangs a holy symbol, made out of old, withered wood and depicting a three-eyed jackal.
Across her back is a massive curved blade whilst on her arm is a buckler strapped and ready for combat with a dagger strapped to her other arm. She looks over the room, focusing her dark eyes on Caikahn and Inira before turning to the one giving the introduction to their mission.
At the sight of the bloodied badges, Daemina smirks.
"I like your style. Working for the society might be more fun than I thought." she states as she steps forward to grab one of the badges. "I assume we are to use these as an identity to replace these Consortium members who aren't going to make it?" she asks with a ever widening grin on her face.
"If you want someone to spread blood and defile their temple, I'll make certain these cult members will loath the consortium." she looks over the badge with the most blood stains on it and decides to clean with her tongue.
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Juan's your average sort of well-tanned human, garbed up like the typical dockworker at any major port during the meeting. In fact, he kind of blends into the background at under five and a half feet tall, the shadows almost hugging themselves to him. At points it's hard to tell where his obsidian-hued hair stops and where the shadows begin.
He'll nod a bit during the briefing every so often, almost as if to remind everyone (and himself) that he's still present, and then considers.
"I'm along, I'm guessing, because I've done well on the undercover in Riddleport in the past?"
While en route, his outfit will change to a bit more of a buccaneer's stylings, and his casual yet precise tone will slide to something more... appropriate.
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at the briefing....
"If memory serves correctly, The Publican House is the tavern-temple of Cayden Cailean where fools gamble their wits away."
tossing her red cloak aside Caikahn scowls angrily
"Keeping the fiends alive just to protect your source of information is going to be quite difficult. Ragathiel will enjoy the souls of this cult."
The tall female seems to have a faint and pleasant shine about her yet you can see anger in her blue eyes, a wariness in her step.
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at the briefing....
[dice=Religion]1d20+5
"If memory serves correctly, The Publican House is the tavern-temple of Cayden Cailean where fools gamble their wits away."tossing her red cloak aside Caikahn scowls angrily
"Keeping the fiends alive just to protect your source of information is going to be quite difficult. Ragathiel will enjoy the souls of this cult."
The tall female seems to have a faint and pleasant shine about her yet you can see anger in her blue eyes, a wariness in her step.
Daemina looks to the tall humanoid for a moment.
"A plane-touched? I knew one of your kind who had a powerful, handsome son." she steps towards this woman, but stops. "He was weak and killed my family before he fled to Lastwall. You've not met him, have you?"|
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"Well, I grew up in temples, and so I have heard about some in Riddleport. The primary temples are the Publican House, a tavern-temple of Cayden Cailean; the House of the Silken Veil, a brothel-temple of Calistria; and the Fish Bowl, a temple of Besmara.The Publican House is the tavern-temple of Cayden Cailean. All are welcome in this crowded, rowdy drinking hall, except for cyphermages. Gambling and drinking contests are common at the Publican House. "
You are indeed the replacement for some consortium agents who unfortunately cannot make it. Trust me, these agents won't be missed. None of them will be seeing the light of day anytime soon.
Your task is to cast blame on the Aspis Consortium, not eradicate it. If the Consortium suffers several suspicious deaths at the same time the Lissalan safe house is sabotaged, it will implicate a third party. I can’t have that. Play nice and don’t blow your cover.
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The Aspis Consortium’s headquarters in Riddleport is a dilapidated compound showing signs of recent repair. The cartage company’s main building rises three stories above the filthy streets. Behind this main building stands a coach-house large enough for four wagons. A weedy yard is enclosed by a high brick wall, but the large wooden doors to the yard stand open to admit new business, even in this evening hour. Beside the doors, a wooden sign reads, “Barracuda Cartage. Under New Management.”
A group of six thuggish mercenaries loiter in the loading yard, overseeing a dozen laborers loading carts with a large shipment of fine sailcloth. They look suspiciously at the party, but do not seem to be in a hurry to act.
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Daemina looks to the tall humanoid for a moment.
"A plane-touched? I knew one of your kind who had a powerful, handsome son." she steps towards this woman, but stops. "He was weak and killed my family before he fled to Lastwall. You've not met him, have you?"
Looking maternally patient towards Daemina, "He was weak yet killed your entire family?
Turning away from the conversation, walking towards the compound she mutters... "I will meditate further in hopes of Ragathiel granting you great strength for the trials ahead."As she gracefully walks away from the conversation one might notice a subtle movement of her right hand accompanied by celestial mutterings.
detect evil upon the four mercenaries and laborers
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Daemina looks to the tall humanoid for a moment.
"A plane-touched? I knew one of your kind who had a powerful, handsome son." she steps towards this woman, but stops. "He was weak and killed my family before he fled to Lastwall. You've not met him, have you?"Looking maternally patient towards Daemina, "He was weak yet killed your entire family?
Turning away from the conversation, walking towards the compound she mutters... "I will meditate further in hopes of Ragathiel granting you great strength for the trials ahead."As she gracefully walks away from the conversation one might notice a subtle movement of her right hand accompanied by celestial mutterings.
detect evil upon the four mercenaries and laborers
"Weak in the faith, dear." she explains as she places the newly cleaned badge on her chest and they make their way to Barracuda Cartage. She pays the men no heed, but nods to the PAladin's words. Justice and Revenge often share goals. Let us get this job done with."
From a distance, Caikahn tries to detect evil in the mercenaries, but there is nothing rotten enough to give a sign.
Still, the men look quite gruff, and seem to be eyeing you and sizing you up, as to understand what your business here is.
The pathfinders move into the building unchallenged, and on the second floor, they find a snappish, sharp- nosed administrator dressed in the elaborate finery of a merchant-prince, and corresponding to the description of Jenk. He stands behind a desk strewn with contracts and ledgers, doing his best to read multiple papers at once.
Ah, he says looking up I've been expecting you. Which one of you is Thestil?
Aha, the professionalism I was told to expect, Vidrin Jenk says as he shakes Juan's hand.
I have had trouble with some of our... contractors. I'd like to present some gifts of good-will to the church of Lissalla, but doing will require some legwork and some... coercive negotiation. Jenk explains.
The Consortium previously loaned each of the three temples in Riddleport a substantial sum, and the steep interest on all these loans is overdue.
We have an opportunity here: I don't necessarily want the interest in money; instead, I have already sent missives to the temples and directed them to pay their back-due interest in the form of a religious icon or magic item. That gives them no escape to pay up immediately. I have informed each temple that agents will be coming by tonight to collect the items, so you should be expected.
There are three locations: the Publican House, which holds a sacred mug, the House of the Silken Veil, who look over a magical dagger, and the Fish Bowl which holds a magical bicorne hat. I want all three items recovered and returned to him tonight. I don't care about the order of things, as long as I have my items before dawn.
Clear?
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Juan will shake the hand with a toothy smile that's all about making this work.
"Arrr. We'll ge' ye yer price, timely an' shipshape. 'fter all, 'e're all 'ere t' profit t'gether, righ'?"
Juan will give the rest of the crew a glance.
"Ye heard th' man. Any 'f ye have complaints?"
Barring any sort of complaint from the party, Juan will head on out, to get this done straight away.
The idea is to present these items as good-will gifts to the cult of Lissala. How you obtain them... I don't care.
He waves a hand with a dismissive gesture, and when the pathfinder aren't fats enough to leave, he adds Arright, bugger off!
The Publican House is a sprawling building of rough-hewn wood and weathered shingles. Large bay windows of leaden glass provide an expansive view of the river. Loud cheers issue from the tavern, as does the sweet smell of spilled ale.
Inside, the place is the scene of a rowdy drinking contest. Several intoxicated patrons li stools and tables stacked with metal cups brimming with ale. As can be expected, the place is spattered with large puddles of ale and broken furniture.
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Daemina will just march in, ignoring any stares at her strange and disfiguring looks and searches the place for anyone who may look like the owner of the temple.
If she can't see anyone who might be in charge, she will ask around, making sure to keep her badge in plain sight so that the owner knows they are part of the Aspis.
Though Daemina is hard-pressed to even identify this place as a temple, she is quick to find High Publican Rolf as the leader of this place. Rolf is a bearlike man with meaty fists and a notched sword swinging at his hip.
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Though Daemina is hard-pressed to even identify this place as a temple, she is quick to find High Publican Rolf as the leader of this place. Rolf is a bearlike man with meaty fists and a notched sword swinging at his hip.
Daemina walks up to the man, and making certain she has his attention.
"I believe you have something of ours?" she states bluntly "If you could bring it out quickly that would be best. The consortium has a busy night, tonight."
Rolf reddens considerably as Daemina steps up to him. We had the sacred mug set aside for you, but... he points to the prominently displayed mug on top of the bar, between a bottle of high-quality brandy and a chalice of lacquered teak my acolytes have gathered it up and as prize for evening's competition.
I can offer you entry in the competition, so that you may win the prize. If I offer it to you right now, I risk starting a brawl.
The drink-balancing game requires each contestant to select a barstool, a table, or a heavy sideboard. This selection is loaded up with three, six, or nine full cups of ale, at the contestant’s choice. The contestant must lift her selected furniture above her head (Str check, DC higher as furniture gets heavier) without spilling any ale (dex check). Heavier furniture beats lighter furniture, ties are broken by number of cups, then by a drinking challenge.
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Rolf reddens considerably as Daemina steps up to him. We had the sacred mug set aside for you, but... he points to the prominently displayed mug on top of the bar, between a bottle of high-quality brandy and a chalice of lacquered teak my acolytes have gathered it up and as prize for evening's competition.
I can offer you entry in the competition, so that you may win the prize. If I offer it to you right now, I risk starting a brawl.
** spoiler omitted **
Daemina, hearing this she leers at the man, her eye twitching and revealing a third eye above her right eye, also leering into his very soul. The pupil appears to be a red dot unlike her other eyes.
"We were promised this item by your church as a payment and yet you now claim it has been used for a prize? You were informed of us coming over, were you not?" she asks with her accusing leer. "You do realise the consortium will have no issue if we were to turn your temple into a charnal house as long as we get what was promised to us."
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"Arr, ye wench! Stop yer blubberin' an' gi' th' man their peace. 'e said 'e di'n't wan' a bloodbath." Juan has fallen back into 'piratese', apparently.
He then turns to Rolf.
"Don' min' th' chil', she's new a' this. How about ye offer a differ'nt an' better prize to replace it, perhaps free drinks f'r a year? Or life? Be much better than ye runnin' afoul of false winds an' hot tempers on either side 'f the 'port, aye?"