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.
* 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?"
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A small dwarven hand reaches from the back of the group, towards the pewter serving platter filled with tarts. A quick snap and brief blue light arcs from the dwarves fingers to the plate.
Ah! Ooo! The dwarf pulls his hand back and shakes it vigorously. Heh, metal. He says with a sheepish grin, pointing to the plate and looking at the others. Seeing no familiar faces, he snatches a tart and returns to the back of the group.
Mmm, this is good. The dwarf says with a full mouth. We should probably get those children their medicine. It seems like the proper thing to do, you know. These are really good!
He grabs another tart before anyone can comment, stuffing into his mouth. Realizing his slip of manners, he produces another sheepish grin this time with a beard full of tart crumbs.
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Chasik will sit patiently and quietly while listening to the captain. He reflects back on the previous adventures as an up and coming field agent, I hate the undead, it will be too soon should I encounter another one. He quietly eats a tart supplied by Garrett and once he views the list, he thinks about it for a moment the responds,
I think the orphanage is the first stop as well, what if we needed the medicine badger that should be Osirian nobleman since all we have to do is show up rifht he says with a slight chuckle at the thought of something being that "easy".
Before you leave the Foreign Quarter where the Grand Lodge is located, you detour to the nearest marketplace for whatever you need, then regroup shortly thereafter for your first task on the list.
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 and eating, 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?"
"Yarg, it is an excellent idea to ask around in advance. Perhaps you may find some evidence of her behaviour--whether good or bad--in advance." Ollysta smiles at the tiefling; she certainly doesn't seem affronted by his demonic upbringing, at least openly.
"Garret, we do not have strict edicts, merely that our charity is going to a good cause. That is, all of our donations are being used for the sake of the needy, and those disadvantaged souls are not being taken advantage of in some way. Perhaps if the charity operator were to mistreat their children in some way, for example--that would certainly be cause for us to reconsider our relationship with them."
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Garret looks a bit frustrated as Ollysta answers his question.
hmm, if only the world was as structured as I would like it, still a lot of room for interpretation.
Thank you lady, we will be on our way if that is all. Can you give us some more exact directions? The Eastgate district is not that small.
"Please just observe and report back to us. If you need to question anyone, feel free to, but please remember that this is an orphanage run by an old lady and act accordingly."
Once everyone has asked all they need to of Ollysta, 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 and writes them down on a slip of paper.
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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Garret asks around at the nearby market to see what the local opinion is on Auntie Baltwin. After chatting for a bit about the produce he comes back to the group.
It seems this Auntie Baltwin can be quite demanding and even rude to other people. She also seems to be a bit of a connoisseur of fine whiskeys.
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Chasik, being gruff attempts to gather some information on the head of the orphanage but all he manages to do is get in the way of vendors setting up their stalls. When he does get the chance to talk he gets flustered and just manages to piss off the few vendors he does talk to. After a few times of this he just gives up and finds the others.
Well I failed miserably, I just kept getting in their way. Did anyone else's learn something?
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. "Who are you?"
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?"
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"We are sent by sponsors to check the well being of their charities if you want to call it as such. Do you mind giving us a tour of the residence, specifically where the children resides and where you treat the sick. Don't get me wrong I personally admire your patience in dealing with these children."
Gilga Baltwin eyes Clacent up with a half sneer, almost as if she, in her aged state, were challenging the bold fighter to find just one thing wrong about the business she ran. "Damn right you should admire me! Taking care of these children are killing me, I swear!"
The old woman takes you on a quick tour of the orphanage, although she snaps in annoyance if she notices anyone tracking dirt through the place or touching things--"I've got enough to clean up after without you making things worse!" It appears to be a large two-storey family house that was extended upon at some point. Downstairs is mostly utilitarian, with a laundry, kitchen, large dining room with a long dining table and chairs of differing heights, and playroom, besides the sitting room and Gilga's bedroom. Besides the cats, of which there is at least a dozen, and the occasional toy left behind by a child (Gilga often speechlessly picks them up on the way to put them back where they should be), the place is quite clean and tidy.
"This was the home I raised my own children in," Gilga explains conversationally as she leads you up the narrow, creaky stairs to the second floor. "They've all long since moved out and had their own families, but with my husband dead now I had too much space to just do nothing with. I've always had a skilled hand at healing and thought I could do some good with it."
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. A separate small room (locked up with a key Auntie keeps in her pocket) functions as a small health clinic.
On the face of things, you don't discover anything that is particularly noteworthy, and Gilga brings you back downstairs. "Quite a respectful place I run here, yes?" she says with a knowing smile. "Might I get you some tea for coming all the way out here?"
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Ooo, tea! Yes please, I would like some tea. Very much, indeed, thank you! Your place is very well kept, I agree. But, the children, what ails them? And how do they come to your care? It must be very expensive to care for so many ill souls.
Grymlind speaks excitedly as he looks for a seat to make himself comfortable.
"Yes, it's all me here. I've many long years of experience cooking for so many mouths though, so it's not too bad," she says to Garret, obviously proud of her achievements.
"As for the children? All sorts of things ail them. I do my best to get them back into ship-shape and then provide a home for them. Many wind up being shifted to another orphanage without a focus on sick children, though. Most come to me after other orphanages are given a child who is ill, although occasionally a desperate mother may drop her child off to me directly."
Auntie Baltwin asks you to wait while she prepares the tea, heading off down the hallway into the kitchen. Shortly thereafter you can hear the clink of china and the whistle of a boiling kettle.
The sitting room you remain in has plenty of soft chairs for you to sit in while you wait. The decor 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.
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Grymlind sits on a hard bench with a pleasant look on his face while rocking back and forth slightly, taking in the room.
This place is pretty nice, yes sir. For the sick and orphaned, it must be quiet a relief, mmm-hm.
He mutters something under his breath and waves a hand quickly in front of his face, before returning to looking around the room from his bench.
Nothing in the room pings as magical.
Auntie Baltwin seems somewhat surprised by Garret's offer of help, and she smiles gently at the halfling. Garret gets the sneaking suspicion that it's the same type of gentle smile a helpful child would be given, however. "Why, thank you dear. I was just going to bring out some biscuits as well, they're just there in the cupboard over the stove... use the footstool there if you can't reach them!"
"It can be rewarding, but it's also a strain on my old body and mind at times..." She chuckles wryly.
"Oh, are you coming to help too?" she asks Yarg as he pokes his head around. "You're a big strong one, if a bit ugly... why don't you carry the china out into the sitting room for me?"
Once the tea and everything is served out in the sitting room, Gilga takes up a seat in a comfortable soft chair. She seems to have picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the way there and tips a few splashes into her tea cup before drinking. "Would anyone else like a taste?" she asks, offering the bottle with a smile.
Auntie Baltwin gives Grymlind a nip of the whiskey before sipping at the tea, sugary biscuit in hand. She begins the small talk quickly - discussion of the weather and similar kind of meaningless conversation fillers.
The boys who showed you inside are back out playing marbles... or, well, they were. It appears that two of them are arguing about some shot that was "against the rules" at the moment.