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We begin the adventure in at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, where we join dozens of other Pathfinders on a lawn in the shadow of Skyreach. Many of the assembled agents hold fliers that appeared about the lodge the day before, hinting at a special announcement to be made here this morning. Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng emerges from the crowd followed by an assistant carrying a large stool that she sets on the grass. Dreng spryly clambers up to stand on the stool and addresses the small crowd.
“Thank you for joining me here, Pathfinders,” the milky-eyed venture- captain shouts.
“Absalom has a long and illustrious history, and today we add a little more to that ongoing record. The esteemed councilor Hadrel Grayrain of Diobel recently passed away, leaving a vacancy on Absalom’s Grand Council. We’re still many months away from the annual inauguration of councilors, and with numerous acts pertaining to Diobel on the schedule, the vassal city is eager to get a new representative. In fact, with Absalom’s assistance, Diobel’s Kortos Consortium has co-bankrolled a festival spread across much of the Foreign Quarter. Ostensibly, this is an occasion to honor the deceased and welcome his replacement. Virtually everyone also sees this as a chance to advertise and earn some new business.”
Drandle Dreng clears his throat and shrugs. “Well, the Society is no exception. We’ve already chipped in some gold to help this be a success, and in doing so we’ve received numerous invitations to the more exclusive events. With our recent work in Mendev, we’ve earned considerable goodwill. This is a good opportunity to consolidate those gains by seeing and being seen by the upper crust—as well as hobnobbing with the common people.”
He chuckles and gives the crowd a smile. “All at the Society’s expense! Have a good time, keep an ear out for interesting leads, and represent the Society well!”
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In front of you stands a proud and dignified man in his mid-sixties, bearing his chin high and armored in silvery mithral platemail. The Chelaxian's gray and white hair is well-tended and covers his neck with a ponytail tied with a black silken ribbon. His strong facial features are partly covered by his trimmed side whiskers. Even though he appears to have survived through many wars and bears the signs of his past hardships, his blue eyes reflect a deep compassion and understanding, a spark of humanity lingering in his soul.
He bows gallantly despite his heavy armor and the burden of his years, and greets you with a deep low voice worthy of an opera singer. "I am Baron Rysalius Starnon, formerly of House Starnon in Westcrown, Baron of the Taldan Empire, General of the First Army of Exploration and proud vassal of Lady Morilla. Well met."
Rysalius turns to his squire, a young Brevian man in his early twenties. "Lander, my sword." the nobleman's voice booms with a gentle hint for the young man, handing him his mithral longsword. "It appears our swordmanship won't be needed for now. For now we shall revel and see if Lady Morilla requires our aid."
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The well groomed and styled Elf, dressed in the latest Taldane fashion and flair, looks about at the assorted Pathfinders "Well then, if it is to be a party and hobnobbing then he has certainly invited the right person" he muses whilst examining his flyer.
He looks about at the people around him "Don't suppose any of you have an itinerary for the events?"
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There is a young gnome, that wears mithral shirt and travelling outfit. His eyes are fast, fingers quick and his hair are yellow. He is far from bleaching, because the bright color definitely shows of a healthy lifestyle. He has darkwood crossbow behind his back and dagger on his belt. Except of his stuff, hidden in backpack behind his back, he carries medium-sized cold-iron spear.
"Hello, my friends, I'm Maeglin,.." he hesitates for a moment, and then continues mocking Rysalius' style, "Maeglin, Chronicler and Prophet of Eternal Arrival of Goracio, the Silver Spearman of Good, and proud squire of Goracio, the Silver Spearman of Good."
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Castien stares at the Venture-Captain and shakes his head slightly when he realizes the mission before them. They wanted me on this mission? I can't imagine why... Still, not wishing to give up, he greets his new companions, though perhaps more coldly than he might have otherwise. "M-my name is C-c-castien G-galondiir. J-just th-that; I h-have n-no n-need of f-fancy t-t-titles."
Yes, I have the schedule here, a halfling woman, two small scimitars strapped on her back says. She is flanked by an icy looking woman, who wouldn't be out of place in an arena fight. There's a social gathering in the grand lodge this very afternoon. We can expect to see many of the local dignitaries. It is said Scion Lord Avid, the lord-mayor of Diobel will attend, as will Grand Ambassador of Osirion Dremhet Salar.
There's more, though. There'll be a commemorative service this evening, a pre inaugural feast tomorrow. There'll be open air street performances all day today and tomorrow. The actual inauguration will be three day from now.
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"Ahh if its introductions Marquis Sinclair Percival, previously allowed to wander as a travelling scholar as far afield as the lands of the Ulfen people, the depths of the Mwangi, and roamer of the mystical Tien lands... my old friends just call me Professor Percy or Lord Percy, but its all in good friendship - oh I do like a good party, the commemorative service sounds like its deaed bo-ring, but the social might show promise! We can ask around and see what interesting news might be to hand." his voice cultured but slightly aloof and a little imperious.
Percy looks at Castigen with a broad smile "Ahhh I admire the modesty and humbleness of the common working man, so free from the trappings and expectations of station and able to sit well with the destiny he carves out for himself rather than the responsibilities thrust upon him" Percy gives his fellow elf a warm paternal pat on the shoulder, only marginally patronising,
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Rhanloi is a hunter. A hunter from a desert land covered in ice instead of sand. He is cold, calm, and like a glacier - inevitable. In the frozen wastes, life is brightness and darkness, with a short period of grey in between. The dark band across his eyes is not made from pigment or dyes applied to the skin - upon closer inspection you realize it's a deep suntan on an otherwise pale and unblemished face. He wears a dark cloak, a masterwork long bow, a rapier, and has several bags and pouches and scroll cases. A large raven perches on his shoulder, looking around the room with intelligent eyes.
Although he is more accustomed to hunting game or creatures who can attack you back, today he will be hunting a different, but no less elusive, prey. Information.
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A four foot dwarf cleric wearing a breastplate and dark wood shield looks around at the others, "Oh more hobnobbing and parting, well a few takers of ale can't hurt. The last shindig I went to got crashed by a bunch of zombies, hopefully this will be more lively! By the way I'm Bones Firehammer cleric of Pharasma. I guess we wonder about until the social gathering?"
Bones tries to recall information about Councilor Hadrel Grayrain and details of his death
and of Diobel’s Kortos Consortium
tapping his head with his knuckles, Bones tries harder
Councilor Hadrel Grayrain
Diobel’s Kortos Consortium
"Ba, my thinker getting dried out. Time to get an ale."
The inaugural reception gets on it way as the first visitors start trickling in. Not only is this a good chance to talk with a who's who in Absalom - the officials that Marra and Svetlana mentioned are all here - but also the more familiar faces of Ollystra Zadrain (Silver Crusade faction), Amenopheus (Osirion faction) and the lady Glorianna Morila (Taldor).
The late Hadrel Grayrain was an esteemed son of Diobel with ties to the town dating back 23 generations, and when he died two weeks ago, he was halfway through his seventh consecutive year-long term as a low councilor. The circumstances of his death seemed natural, and were he nearly done with his term, the Grand Council might have seen fit to let the seat lie empty until they were ready to elect a new Low Council. For a host of minor political reasons, though, they have decided both to appoint a temporary replacement to fill Grayrain’s seat and to co-host a series of formal events to give the new representative an appropriate welcome.
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Rysalius proudly marches in the room, his squire shadowing him. Treading among the guests, he nods to many lords and ladies, addressing them respectfully and according to their titles, in the proper order of préséance. Finally, he reaches Lady Gloriana Morilla. Bowing to her, he pays his respects with his booming voice.
"My Lady, it is not only a pleasure but an honor to see you here. I am - as always - your most devoted vassal and ally. I have just returned from the Worldwound, where - as you well know - we delivered a fatal blow to Thurl and Tancred Desimire's forces. I'm proud to have led the First Army of Exploration in your name, and will endeavor to follow in your wake - for the Sovereign Court's glory!"
"Now, pray tell, what are your plans for our proud faction?"
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Likewise Percy maintains just the correct degree of social decorum, making his way through the formal greetings and making polite small talk and greetings as he goes.
"Aha! Lady Morilla, we meet again so soon, what a delight you visit upon me" Percy looks around "And I remain ever your loyal servant... as does Baron Starnon I expect" he smiles knowingly.
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Rhanloi likes to stay in the background, listening in on conversations and generally passing unnoticed. He will eventually make his way to Lady Zadrain to pay his regards to the leader of his faction, but he doubts she'll recognize him in this ocean of dignitaries.
The not-so-subtle teasing by his fellow elf, with a strangely human name, does lift the corners of his mouth into a smirk. Clearly, this one has a sharp wit and must be watched...
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Castien, too, sticks to the edges of the gathering. He does not treat it as a social event; he could not hope to fit in with the crowd around him. Instead, he views his role more along the lines of security - with so many high profile dignitaries and personalities, it would be an ideal time for an attack.
He does take a moment to catch Lady Zadrain's gaze and bow deeply, but does not trust his ability to speak enough to approach.
The Lady Morilla nods at Rysalius and Percy in acknowledgement and responds Baron, Professor, what a pleasure. Yes, I have received reports of your valiant efforts, and those of your colleagues. Without your aid Mendev would have looked very different now.
Could I ask to speak to you and your comrades in private, for a moment?
Moving a little closer to the two she says I have arranged for a private dinner in the Turtle and Teapot, in the Petals District. I would be my pleasure to invite you to join me later today.
As ever, someone of her standing does not issue invitations that can be declined.
Meanwhile, Ollysta Zadrian is the same regal presence as ever, positively the focus of attention of the room.
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"Why yes it sounds positively delightful, I believe the Petals District is lovely this time of year" Percy agrees in his typical slightly foppish air. "Madam, if you'd excuse me for now, I must return to the crowd, and speak to the...other guests"
With that, Percy takes his wine very much in hand and seeks out Ollysta "Aha, Ollysta Zadrian, a shining example to all of us... what news since Mendev?..." Percy attempts to ice break into the conversation.
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Bones takes an opportunity before the event starts to change into his noble clothing and accessories. Inspecting his appearance, the dwarf notes "Looks like the cleaners got all the zombie splatter out of it. Hopefully this peacock decoration will come in more useful than last time, But then with a bit of luck the crowd will be more lively."
The cleric mingles at the event keeping an ear and eye out for unusual bits of information, but eventually makes it around to greeting Amenopheus of the Osirion faction. "It is a honor to meet the leader of my faction. What news from Osirion?"
Amenopheus is somewhat uncomfortable around Dremhet Salhar, the ambassador to Osirion, but opens up rapidly as he sees a friendly face Mister Firehammer, always a pleasure to meet you. Your efforts to find the jewelled sages has paid off. News of Osirion I must deny you, I'm afraid, as the Ruby Prince still does not welcome my presence their he says, as he casts a sideways glance at Dremhet. I have heard some rumours of pedlars selling artefacts. On the streets. You have not seen any of that, have you? Amenopheus shrugs They could've just been rumours, but do keep in touch in case you notice something.
Ollysta Zadrian, meanwhile has been talking to Dremhet, though the topic was somewhat lost in the loud buzz of the hall ...and spotted near the Sellen River. Excuse me, I need a moment. She abruptly breaks off her conversation with Dremhet as she spots Percy, and very briefly flashes a smile upon seeing the familiar faces of Castien and Rhanloi. Excellent. Can I have a word with the three of you?
She takes a stately walk to a free corner of the room, assuming - expecting - the pathfinder to come along. “I am happy to see you here. I was informed you would be here, so I am seeking you out because I need some one I can trust to help me right a grievous injustice.
“When Queen Galfrey called for troops during the Fifth Mendevian Crusade, many
who answered her call were criminals in their homelands who joined our cause
in efforts to seek redemption. For their valor and sacrifice, Queen Galfrey granted them a warrior’s pardon. Despite this official declaration, a number of bounty hunters followed these criminals north. Either ignorant of the declaration or in defiance of it, they have begun capturing several of these felons-turned-war-heroes and turning them in for profit. More troubling, when they cannot claim their bounties, these hunters simply sell our heroes off as slaves.
“I have learned that three of these champions are to be auctioned in the slave pits of Absalom tomorrow. What’s more, I am familiar with the particular villain who is hoping to buy all three—an unfitting end for these redeemed souls. Such auctions are generally closed to the public, and those bidding are required to purchase special coins in advance. Fortunately, the Society owes us many favors for our valor over the past year, and they were willing to provide me both seats at the auction and auction coins.
“However, I’m too well known in Absalom, and my appearance at the auction would jeopardize the mission. Please, attend the auction, buy the freedom of these crusaders, and bring them to the Grand Lodge to give them a true fresh start.”
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Maeglin head goes round. Been grown in small city outside Magnimar, Varisia, he hasn't seen so much of the world around.
He followed Percival into ball room first, than lost him in a crowd swinging and then, after taking a glass of wine from a waiter, found Perci and Castien talking to Ollysta Zadrain. "Oh, lady Zadrain herself here," gnome was taken by surprise and felt himself really uncomfortable. At least, he was disappointed not wearing something more respectable than travellers outfit.
Even being not-properly dressed for a dinner, he come closer, with a hope, that Ollysta recognizes him and invites him to a talk as well.
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Bones nods knowingly, "I shall keep a watch for artifacts being sold on the street."
The cleric shares what he learns with the others, when there is time. Speaking to the others in the group, "I would be happy to accompany any about the city on their errands, as long as we can check peddlers wares along the way. Safety in numbers and such." Until then he continues to mingle and listen for news and rumors.
He thinks back to if he has any knowledge of locals selling artifacts in the city and/or where one would find such people.
Bones has more than enough knowledge about the city to know that street vendor roam around the coins district, selling everything under the sky. He doesn't know of any specific dealer that fits the bull, though.
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"Probably it's to late now to search for those artifact sellers", said Maeglin, "we might run into trouble asking questions in the evening. And we still have time for this tomorrow morning, before auction starts, so let's go to the dinner now". He picks his backpack and ready to go as well.
"By the way, Baron Rysalius, how much time it usually takes to order a fancy outfit like yours? Since I moved in Absalom, I meet people more often and it's a bit dissapointing, that I always wear a travelling clothes."
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Percy looks at his Baron companion with a lightly concerned and knowing nod, "Perhaps Maeglin we might well find you something... pret a porter that might well get you through, at least until we can arrange you some bespoke fashion, a little haute couture, especially if you plan to attend weddings and feasts in society" - Percy does his best not to sound too patronising. Not all that successfully.
"Shall we depart to the Turtle then?"
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Gnome looked at Percival with eyes full of inspiration:
"What do you say? Wedding? I'd definitely like to attend couple. A friend of mine, send me a message, that she's been on a funeral in Qadira, but she's at least local there. And I don't know much people around for one to invite me to a wedding party", Maeglin was waiting for others to go. "About costume... I have less than hundred gold left, so if it is possible to buy something pret-a-porter, that would be nice. And I need to check my cousin's wife's second grandpa's nephew, Braggett Nickleplenty, works a jewellery store somewhere in Coins. I think we might pass-by on our way to Flower's District. But are you sure," he looks at Percy, because he is one who is supporting gnome mostly, "It's required to be finely dressed to attend dinner? Might be, I can just stop-by for a minute or two and just clean my current outfit with some magic?"
The Turtle and Teapot is fine place, serving snacks and drinks in neat little discrete rooms. Lady Glorianna is waiting in one of them, and after a wide array of food has been served, she makes sure that nobody is eavesdropping as she says:
“Nearly a year ago, I and several of my best agents began assembling a grand Army of Exploration to do battle in the Worldwound and inspire others to do the same. Admittedly, we also aimed to restore some of Taldor’s lost glory, if its leaders would show initiative by funding their own crusaders. Most of my peers continued to sit idly and mock our efforts, yet now that the army has proven victorious, these critics are racing to claim that they were key contributors.
"Several of Grand Prince Stavian’s loudest sycophants— including the boorish Lord Minovitas—are in Absalom for the dedication of ‘The Opparan Trace Commission,’ which is a new guildhall intended to host Taldan business and is scheduled to open tomorrow afternoon. One of my agents serves as an aide to Lord Minovitas, and he reports that the lord commissioned the celebrated Varisian painter Amya Illanaf to create a series of portraits to hang in the grand hall. I have since learned that these are entitled ‘The Heroes of the Worldwound.’ The one my agent chanced to see portrayed that portly hound Lord Minovitas in pristine battle regalia with his foot planted on a dead fiend, as though he had slain it himself— all while Iomedae sings his praises in the background.
“We cannot afford to let Absalom see these, for they would perpetuate the stereotype that Taldor is a land of foppish aristocrats dedicated to their own grandiose delusions. If we let this happen, we would reward the ineptitude and indolence so common in Taldor’s upper class. We would also surrender much of the credit we are due.
“I have made arrangements to sabotage the portraits, which Lord Minovitas is keeping covered until they are unveiled to the public. If you can get to the paintings first, you might secretly deface or alter them to embarrass Lord Minovitas and send a so message to other Taldan nobles who would do the same. At present, the art waits in a warehouse in the Wise Quarter. Find a way in, do what you must, and try to avoid hurting innocents or being caught in the act; we’re trying
to help Taldor, not start a civil war.”
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Rysalius cannot contain his anger any further when Lady Morilla ceases to speak. His clenched armored fist slams on the table.
"This is an outrage! We cannot let this so-called Lord garner all the glory of the Army of Exploration. The dead who fell on the battlefield under my command shan't be shamed by such preposterous propaganda! Of course we will help, Lady Morilla. Will we have any tools for this, or should we simply ruin the paintings?"
I have some tools here. she says as she puts a scroll case on the table I know this is a difficult mission, so here are some magical scrolls. Three of these are erase scrolls - they'll just destroy the painting. What is more desirable is altering. I have a scroll of fabricate in there as well, and I can give you enough paints to repaint a portrait.
The best part is: I had ample time to commission two - let's call them counter-paintings
Lady Morilla has commissioned two paintings, both unframed. One is a fairly realistic depiction of Lady Morilla mustering soldiers, and the other shows the Baron Starnon battling a demon.
When you are done use this Lady Morilla concludes, as she shows a tiny figurine of a raven to contact me and receive further instructions.
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Rysalius slowly regains his composure, even grinning as Lady Morilla mentions the portrait she had made.
"Well, tomorrow afternoon is good, we have ample time to do our job. Let's talk strategy." he says to his companions.
"I think the safest bet would be to access the warehouse during the night, create a diversion or subdue the guards, then modify the paintings at our leisure. If we subdue the guards, we'll need to steal something completely different to avoid suspicions on the paintings, of course. An alternative would be to bribe or subdue and replace those who bring the paintings to the location where Lord Minovitas intends to reveal them."
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Maeglin couldn't believe, what he heard: "Wow! Lady knows, how to do a good prank"
"We should value sacrifices of those, who fallen in Sarcorian wastes, not earn respect or money. Of course, we will take care of this Lord Minovitas and his celebration will go not as planned."
"I can act for distraction", he smiles, "I have some stories that are boring and fascinating as well. People tend either fell asleep, when they listen them or urge to catch me and beet me. To bad I'm out of fast retreat magic, but I have my own way out. But, guys, even if those paintings are lies, maybe just take them out of frames, try not to ruin them. Every painter lifespan is limited, so he can produce only limited amount of masterpieces. These paintings might go to a private collection of those, who know the real side of things, but still will value the artist work and inspiration." Maeglin touched a bunch of colorful ribbon tails, hanging down from his spear.
The warehouse in question helps to stock shops in the Wise Quarter and Foreign Quarter, so it contains a wide variety of goods. Prospective clients visit often to rent out space or order shipments of goods, which often includes a tour of the facility.
Lord Minovitas is a Taldan nobleman who has spent much of the past year in Absalom laying the groundwork for future business endeavors, though most of that time he has spent intoxicated while wining and dining influential citizens.
His lordship is fighting a losing battle to maintain his upstanding image in Absalom as several Taldans have begun telling stories of Lord Minovitas’s habitual exploitation of his ancestral lands and its people. At least two of these rumormongers have disappeared very suddenly in the past month.
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"Well then...Lady Morilla" Percy straightens up, his rather dandy demeanour suddenly vanished and replaced by a look of steely determination and a cool calculated charm "Marquis Sinclair Percival, Leidang of the Ulfen Guard, loyal servant of Taldor and Lion Blade - at your service. Glory be upon His majesty, Emperor of Taldor,Scion of Aroden,Doge of Andoran,Defender of Galt, Eternal Monarch of Cheliax, Primarch-in-waiting of Absalom, Prince Stavian III"
"We've clearly come just in time, Lord Minovitas is just the sort of aristocrat that weighs us down and leeches the energy of the great Taldane nation, we need more Lions, and less wolves in sheeps clothing. The matter is settled." Percy delivers confidently and with a stoic determination in his voice.
All traces of the dandy and slightly superior Noble are gone.
Diplomacy
Know Local
Know Noble
The warehouse in question helps to stock shops in the Wise Quarter and Foreign Quarter, so it contains a wide variety of goods. Prospective clients visit often to rent out space or order shipments of goods, which often includes a tour of the facility.
Lord Minovitas sent for a handful of Taldan guards to transport six flat crates from the warehouse, but they are yet to arrive at the guildhall. His lordship sent word that he intends to dispatch replacements soon to retrieve his possessions.
Business has been slow for the warehouse, and the owner is late in paying his employees’ wages—much to the workers’ chagrin.
Lord Minovitas is a Taldan nobleman who has spent much of the past year in Absalom laying the groundwork for future business endeavors, though most of that time he has spent intoxicated while wining and dining influential citizens.
His lordship is fighting a losing battle to maintain his upstanding image in Absalom as several Taldans have begun telling stories of Lord Minovitas’s habitual exploitation of his ancestral lands and its people. At least two of these rumormongers have disappeared very suddenly in the past month.
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"So it seems the warehouse is the best place to be, if we can swap the artworks over there it would be easier than in a Guildhall. We could pose as the guards, or we can get in ahead of them and make the switch, leaving them the unwitting couriers. By the time the ruse is discovered it will be too late."
"I suggest we approach the warehouse and ask to use it to store our 'artworks' for a short time, perhaps they will be a bit flexible if we offer to pay them a special minders fee or some such, and then once inside we can do the switch. We can dismantle the original artworks, roll up the canvases and simply walk out. Probably best we don't mention Lord Minovitas at all, in case one of the guards makes a comment when Minovitas' couriers arrive... yes, best there is no link"
"We just need to look like modest minders and men at arms, a few suits of light armour and basic weapons should serve for convincing disguises - we don't want to be memorable or remarkable"
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Bones lets the others know what he knows
Lord Minovitas is a Taldan nobleman who has spent much of the past year in Absalom laying the groundwork for future business endeavors, though most of that time he has spent intoxicated while wining and dining influential citizens.
His lordship is fighting a losing battle to maintain his upstanding image in Absalom as several Taldans have begun telling stories of Lord Minovitas’s habitual exploitation of his ancestral lands and its people. At least two of these rumormongers have disappeared very suddenly in the past month.
The dwarf continues "Let's go to the warehouse and see what it looks like. The guards probably would be glade to look the other ways for coin. Especially if some noble gets pie in his face."