After a rather up-and-down start to your career as Pathfinders, you've found yourself with a little bit of downtime on your hands. Some of you may be quite pleased to have obtained the first inklings of fame and notoriety, while others of you are beginning to see what some consider the true face of the Society—the ugly side, twisted by political manoeuvrings and people using the Society for their own gain.
For some reason or another, you find yourself in a cushy lounge suite in the Grand Lodge of Absalom with your companions, reminiscing back on the good old days during your period as trainee field agents under the watchful eye of Ambrus Valsin...
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"The Three Duties: Explore. Report. Cooperate. If nothing else gets through your thick skulls during your time here, just remember those three duties of yours! If you can't do that, you're no better than the mud on my boot to the Pathfinder Society!"
Ambrus was always a gruff and no-nonsense man. He had little tolerance for laziness and talking back, and he was the one who beat wannabe field agents into line about what they were expected to do as official members of the Society. Tall and meticulously groomed, he took his job running the daily operations of the Grand Lodge incredibly seriously.
On this certain day, you found yourselves in Ambrus Valsin's office, summoned by a brief missive earlier that morning...
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The efficient and straightforward chamberlain greets you curtly and motions for you to sit before jumping straight into your assignment.
"All right, rookie Pathfinders! Shut your gobs and listen up!" Ambrus stands as he speaks, pacing around his office and occasionally looking back at you over his shoulder. "Now, I've been watching your progress so far, and I think you're just about ready to be considered real field agents out there. I know you're eager to do so, too. But first things first—we've gotta make sure you're up to snuff and won't get yourself killed out there."
"Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some snivelling bootlicker willing to do whatever it takes to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, to be sure, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It's rough out there—and I'm not just talking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness we Pathfinders find ourselves in on missions. We've got people who look down their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we've collected. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies." Ambrus shakes his head sadly.
"As you well know, the wealth of knowledge and the items of lore we possess make us the most powerful organisation on the planet. That said, since we're fractured and widespread, it's difficult for that power to light on anything for two long. And thank the gods for that."
Ambrus moves to his desk drawer and rustles around in it for a few seconds. Those with the right angle notice that it's as meticulously organised as everything else in his office. Withdrawing a plain envelope, he passes it to the group.
"I've got a number of small assignments for you and your team, and it'd be best if you could finish them before the day's end. This mission is two-fold—it'll test your loyalties to us, the Pathfinder Society, and it'll also get you to meet a couple of rather important people while you're at it. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organisation, so follow their orders as you would mine." Ambrus pauses for emphasis at this point, looking sharply at you all.
"Those jobs aren't arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them completed as quickly as possible. I don't want to see you until you've got 'em all worked out for me. But once you do? Well, I'll be strongly thinking of escalating you to full membership right off the bat."
Looking inside the envelope, it appears that there is a list of jobs, as well as an attachment of the names of your contact and the directions to the meeting location.
Assignment #7:
* A man named Guaril Karela runs a curio shop in the Docks called the Pickled Imp. Go to him and fill his request as a favour to the Society. I believe it has something to do with a set of rare books.
* Ollysta Zadrian requested aid and is expecting you at the Temple of the Shining Star in the
Ascendant Court. She needs someone to deliver a parcel of medicine and curatives to a needy orphanage and verify the character of the recipient.
* Visit the offices of Osirian nobleman Dremdhet Salhar in the Wise Quarter. The Pathfinder Society needs to obtain permission to delve the Salhar ancestral vaults beneath Sothis. He has made a verbal agreement, and your visit makes it official. You will receive an official charter and detailed maps. Do not embarrass the Society in this matter.
* Chelish Paracountess Zarta Dralneen possesses an item loaned from the Vaults. Meet with her in her estate in the Ivy District and retrieve the item in her possession.
"Any questions, rookies?"
"Stuff for other people," Ambrus shrugs idly. "I don't care what order you do it in, just so long as you do them, period."
"Yes, she does. All the people you'll be meeting with will be expecting you sometime today."
"As for the item? It's some kind of magical box, I believe. We haven't quite figured out how to open it or what it does, though. Zarta was interested in trying to puzzle it out, but I believe she's given up on it."
Ambrus frowns quizzically at Bendaxalon. "What do you mean by everything was in a different place?"
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The gnome returns the quizzical expression, though not the frown. "Uh... moved around. Ink pot there instead of there, quill on the other side of the room, and so on. Shuffled around. Because it all looks like it's placed so precisely!" His eyes pop and his forehead wrinkles with surprise and confusion at this odd circumstance.
Ambrus' frown only gets deeper, numerous creases marring his forehead. "If I catch you being a nuisance, little gnome, I'll be putting you on mucking duties of the Lodge's stables for a week! Everything must be in its right place!"
"Unless we've got a Sable Company Marine visiting, I sincerely doubt it. If you have no real questions for me, get out of my office and get moving on your mission!"
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Arithas puts a hand on Bendaxalon's shoulder, smiling. "I apologize for Mr Brillamorrow's behaviour. He is a gnome, after all, and you know what can happen if they get bored." he winks at Bendy.
To the rest of his companions, he says, "I suggest the orphans get their medicine first. That seems the most important."
Ambrus Valsin can be heard muttering obscenities under his breath about gnomes, and the last thing you see before leaving his offices is him nervously checking to see that his ink pot and quill have not been moved to the other side of the room.
According to the letter, you are to meet Ollysta Zadrian at the Temple of the Shining Star to receive the supplies she wishes you to deliver to the orphanage. Anyone with even a passing familiarity with Absalom knows of the massive and opulent temple of Sarenrae, the largest church of the Dawnflower north of Katheer. Located at the very heart of the city in the Ascendant Court district, reaching the church sends you past many other religious temples, large and small, and of course by the massive cathedral perched atop a pillar of rock in the very centre of the Court--none other than the Starstone Cathedral.
The Temple of the Shining Star is a grand mosque, taking in the best design aspects of Qadiran architecture and traditional Azlanti-inspired Absalom craftsmanship. It is only somewhat busy with worshippers this late in the morning--services start at dawn, and most have since left to perform their regular day jobs. A young cleric dressed in white robes greets you upon entering, and within a short period of time you're let through the magnificent and towering rooms of the temple to a comfortable meeting room in the centre of the church.
A heavily-armoured woman is waiting for you within the lounge, and she greets you with a beaming smile, striding forward and addressing the group in a strong voice.
"Oh, thank the light of Sarenrae that you have arrived! I knew Ambrus would come through for us in the Silver Crusade." She lightly nods her head to the group. "In case you are unaware, my name is Ollysta Zadrian. It is a pleasure to meet you." Ollysta takes the time to shake the hand of everyone in the room, querying for each individual name and obviously trying her best to remember them all. "Please, do take a seat. Would you like something to eat or drink? We've only got leftovers from breakfast, but it's still warm and good."
After some amount of small talk, Ollysta manages to steer herself onto the topic of the Silver Crusade. "Do you know of the Silver Crusade?" she asks earnestly. "I was once a Pathfinder, you know. The Society was much too restrictive to me, forcing me to decide between my solemn rites to Sarenrae and my duties to the organisation. But I felt that there had to be something of worth within it. After discovering how so many factions splintered the Society, a number of friends and I banded together to proliferate the cause of charity and kindness using the Society's resources. As it is said, 'the dawn brings new light'--and I've made it my life's work to use our recent darkness to bring a new light to the world and to the Pathfinder Society."
"We are always looking for heartfelt and thoughtful individuals to join us in our crusade against injustice in the world. If you should ever wish to know more, please, do ask." Ollysta smiles to herself. "Ah! But I apologise for straying off point. I'm sure that you wish to know why I have called you here today."
Ollysta gestures to a small crate set by the door of the room and stamped with the holy ankh of Sarenrae. "I need you to bring medicine to an orphanage--to Auntie Baltwin's Home for Recovery in the Eastgate district. But, ah, that is not the only thing I ask of you today." She seems somewhat uncomfortable as she proceeds. "Since our quest began, the needy have clamoured for our aid, but so too have vultures and leeches gathered to pray on our good will. I suspect some are abusing our generosity. It may sound cruel, but there are plenty of dishonest people in the world. I need you to investigate the headmistress of the orphanage, Gilga Baltwin, and determine if she is deserving of our charity."
"I do not necessarily believe there is anything amiss with her in particular, but it is important that we do audits of each recipient of our aid from time to time. Dawnflower forgive me if I cast doubt upon the innocent."
"Will you do this for me, Pathfinders?"
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Li thinks it's strange to send a band of armed and dangerous Pathfinders to audit an orphanage, but he is still getting used to the strange ways of Avistan. On the other hand, maybe there is more to this assignment than meets the eye and this Ollysta knows exactly what she's doing?
"The wise man knows whose hand is in his purse," says Li. It appears that this statement is the Tian archer's way of agreeing.
If nobody has further questions for Zadrian, she encourages you to move along to the Eastgate district and wishes you well. (She does look a little disappointed that nobody seemed particularly excited about the Silver Crusade, though.) She also reiterates the directions to Auntie Baltwin's Home for Recovery.
Eastgate lies, shockingly enough, on the far eastern side of Absalom. As a largely residential district, it is rather quiet and orderly, especially now in the middle of the day when most people are elsewhere in the city working. It's a typical suburbia for Absalom in many ways.
Sooner or later, you wind up at the address you've been looking for. This fine upper-class home appears to be clean and in good condition considering the number and ages of its inhabitants. Three young boys shoot marbles in the dirt near the side porch, and they look up at you with quizzical expressions as you approach. Through an open window you can intermittently hear the sound of coughs and sneezes erupting from the children's dormitories upstairs, or alternatively the joyful giggle of a playing child. A cat suns itself on the letterbox, and two more chase each other through the yard. A fourth pushes its way out of a cat door set in the entrance and disappears into a nearby rosebush.
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Bendaxalon agrees with Zadrian's request, smiling and nodding. "With alacrity." He tries asking around about the orphanage, but accidentally seems to imply that he's interested in adopting a child himself. It's bad enough for gnomes to be raised by gnomes; the very thought of anyone else being raised by them is absolutely horrifying, and no one tells him anything whatsoever.
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Before the group leaves, Khale asks if he can return to speak more about the Silver Crusade. Striving against injustice seems to ring the right bells with him for some strange reason...
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After speaking with people, Khale gathers the group together. "I'm afraid I've discovered something rather troubling."
Ollysta is quite happy to talk to Khale at a later date about the endeavours of the Silver Crusade!
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From the outside, certainly, nothing seems amiss. What are you going to do?
The boys give each other a look, trying to force the others to be the one to respond to these strangers. Finally one, a sandy-haired lanky thing with freckles, speaks up.
"Auntie's here," he says finally. "What's the delivery?"
The other two seem to have spotted the person carrying the box of supplies and are eyeing it curiously.
"Let's go find her!" One of them suggests, and they lead you in through the front door.
The smell of cats is quite strong in here, mixed with the strange, sickly-sweet scent of medicine. There seem to be about as many cats as there are kids in the orphanage, and you spot almost a dozen just wandering through the entrance hall into the sitting room; some are sleeping on shelves or bookcases, while others are eating kibble set out for them or playing with one another. Toys are strewn here and there about the floor--an old-looking rocking horse, a dog-eared picture book, a ratty doll with only one eye left.
The boys get you to wait in the sitting room while they charge upstairs, calling out for Aunty Baltwin. Soon enough an old and haggard woman stomps into the room, dressed in an old-fashioned floral dress.
"Yes? Who are you lot, then?"
Auntie Baltwin eyes Trig up; in her eyes he sees the same kind of look he'd most readily attribute to native Chelaxians back in Varisia--that is, suspicion. Nevertheless, she seems happy to speak of the orphanage to him.
"Only children here, I'm afraid I don't have the resources to care for more than that. I'm already fill to the brim with just the orphans!"
She does, however, accept the medicine with a (reasonably) pleasant smile.
"Would you like some tea while you're here?"
Khale, the only odd thing you notice about the sitting room is a nearly empty bottle of whiskey placed beside a rocking chair. Apart from that the room is quaint and old-fashioned, with photos of numerous children and some family shots set in a display cabinet. You have a feeling that a much younger Gilga features in some of them.
Auntie Baltwin gives Li a sharp look at first, but she seems to soften a little. "What are you talking about?" She says much slower than normal, as if speaking down to a child. "Come now, don't talk nonsense."
Elysia crouches down and has a look at one of the cats; it promptly starts nuzzling up against her leg. It seems healthy enough, and quite friendly as well. None of the other cats you've seen so far show any signs of malnourishment or illness, either.
From the sitting room, Bendy can't see many children; occasionally a red-cheeked face will poke around the doorway, but for the most part they seem to be giving you a wide berth. The boys outside seemed healthy enough, though.
Auntie Baltwin laughs harshly at Triccio's question. "It's hard as all get-out, boy! But someone's got to do it. Now, let me get you that tea..."
She heads off down the hallway into the kitchen. Shortly thereafter you can hear the clink of china and the whistle of a boiling kettle.
Li and Trig find a couple of kids, a boy and a girl, playing in an adjacent room; they're busily building a tower with some old painted blocks. One of them seems to be one of the boys you spotted outside playing marbles earlier.
"Why do you talk funny, Li?" The young boy asks with a frown. It's certainly not meant to be cruel, but such is the brutal honesty of children.
The other girl answers Li's questions in a matter of fact way; she seems to be relishing the chance to be the centre of attention. "Auntie Baltwin cooks really nice food, and and she tells really fun stories at bedtime! I like it."
They seem quite delighted by Trig's magic tricks. "Whoa! How did you do that?!"
Bendaxalon makes his way upstairs, stepping on a couple of squeaky floorboards midway up but not being otherwise obstructed. Upstairs appears to be mostly bedrooms; peeking inside a couple reveals them to be plain but relatively tidy. Some of the rooms seem to be used for recovering sick children, and a few are bunked up, asleep. There's about eight or so little boys and girls in varying states of health up here.
Arithas peeks inside an ajar cupboard, noticing a large box filled to the brim with various medicines stacked on a high shelf out of reach of most of the kids. Oddly enough, the labels on the curatives seem to be from three different charities, none of which are related to the Church of Sarenrae that sent the latest batch with you.
Soon enough, the haggard old woman returns from the kitchen bearing a silver tray carrying a pink teapot and a half-dozen tiny white china teacups. She shoos away any children that are hanging around, setting the lot on a small side table and pouring tea for the group.
"Huh? Wasn't there six of you?" she asks with a frown.
Gilga finally pours one cup for herself, but before drinking it, she reaches for the bottle of whiskey Khale spotted before and tips a few splashes into it. "Anyone else want a taste?" she asks genially.
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Li and Trig find a couple of kids, a boy and a girl, playing in an adjacent room; they're busily building a tower with some old painted blocks. One of them seems to be one of the boys you spotted outside playing marbles earlier.
"Why do you talk funny, Li?" The young boy asks with a frown. It's certainly not meant to be cruel, but such is the brutal honesty of children.
The other girl answers Li's questions in a matter of fact way; she seems to be relishing the chance to be the centre of attention. "Auntie Baltwin cooks really nice food, and and she tells really fun stories at bedtime! I like it."
They seem quite delighted by Trig's magic tricks. "Whoa! How did you do that?!"
Trig chuckles. "Music can be magic. And magic can make things move."
Then
"Does everyone like it here? Is Auntie as nice to everyone?"
Sense motive
Soon enough, the haggard old woman returns from the kitchen bearing a silver tray carrying a pink teapot and a half-dozen tiny white china teacups. She shoos away any children that are hanging around, setting the lot on a small side table and pouring tea for the group.
"Huh? Wasn't there six of you?" she asks with a frown.
Gilga finally pours one cup for herself, but before drinking it, she reaches for the bottle of whiskey Khale spotted before and tips a few splashes into it. "Anyone else want a taste?" she asks genially....
"Lovely children," Trig comments as the kids depart. "Some of the others are having a look around. I'm sure they'll be back shortly." He balances the antiseptic quality of what is probably quickedly strong rotgut against the near certainty that the bottle has been pressed against her lips. His eyes dip for a quick examination of the teacup.
Resolving not to drink at all, he gratefully accepts a splash of spirits.