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The fourth and final day of training has come to a close at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, heralding the end of this year's Torchbearing. Pathfinders the world over attend this annual symposium to share their knowledge, teach each other new skills, and reinforce their connections across the Inner Sea and beyond. To celebrate the end of festivities, the lodge has hosted a grand banquet in the visiting agents' honor. A refreshing winter breeze blows through an open window, flickering torches and sending papers scattering. The smell of freshly baked desserts fills the air while initiates clear away the remnants of the first course.
During the annual Torchbearing, the Three Masters, along with other notable Pathfinders, taught a variety of seminars and panel discussions, from Golarion’s history to spellcasting techniques, and ran obstacle courses and a triathlon. Rumor has it, Janira Gavix offered an unauthorized but popular class for aspiring bards and other social misfits under 30 - inches, not years. You also heard some salacious gossip about an exclusive, late-night VIP experience Zarta Dralneen arranged for some her favorites. According to one hungover Pathfinder who claimed to have been there, a disgruntled Drandle Dreng was turned away at the door.
Speaking of the imp, ever the social butterfly and self-appointed mentor-to-the-masses, the halfling bard Janira Gavix approaches your small group. “Hi, friends. It’s been awhile since last we met. Have you enjoyed the Torchbearing? I volunteered to organize all the classes again this year. Kreighton Shaine always said I should have been a teacher. Did you learn anything useful?”
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Even though she worked more with Guaril Karelia Ree would so totally have tried to get into one of Zarta's late night parties too...even if it meant trying to Acrobatics her way in by using rope curtains and skylights!
"Well I think I learned that not every problem can be solved by being quick on your feet...but sometimes being quick on your feet can solve getting you out of problems you get yourself into by trying to get ahead of your brain...if that makes any sense?"
"...no? Me neither!"
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"Well, I went to one of these seminars from the illustrious Sherly Holes," Salarian adds excitedly. "It's amazing what conclusions you can draw if you pay attention to all the little details you Perceive in your environment. Why, he even was able to determine what I had for breakfast the day before yesterday, simply by looking at my robes"!"
Looking at the sorry state of his garments, he suddenly realises that that might not have been such an impressive leap of deduction and smiles apologetically.
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"I enjoyed the class on sword fighting techniques," Xantanax states as he uses a whetstone to hone his greatsword. "Mastering this blade to the point where one is regarded as a Master of the Blade requires acquiring all the knowledge one can learn."
"While practicing with my sword in this class, the master kept discussing the need to perceive the things around us in order to be more proficient with the sword. If we hone that skill, then we can begin to anticipate how opponents will use their weapons in battle. Once we know what they are going to do, it is a simple matter of sliding the sword past their guard and securing victory over them. And here I once thought swordsmanship was all about how hard I could swing a sword!"
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Standing near the edge of the group , a halfling in a bright, almost blood red, blouse and pencil skirt watches as a stack of papers goes flying by. With a sigh she comments, "Who left papers out on a day like this. I hope that's not a problem I'll have to fix tomorrow morning!" She drains the last of the drink in her hand, and turns to face the group. Her stern features, perfectly coifed hair, and immaculate outfit, all contribute to give the look of a no nonsense professional, who, despite being at best half your height, seems to look down her nose at you.
She gives a slight smile at everyone and continues, "But luckily, I'm not handling paperwork today. Instead, I'm supposed to be collecting responses about people's experiences and collating that data. Now let me see..." Angela pulls out a notebook and a writing implement and opens to a pre-marked page. Before she can start asking her questions, though, Janira pops in with her greeting and questions.
After the question about what people enjoyed, Angela gives the other halfling a nod. "That was just what I was going to ask about, thank-you." She then turns to watch whoever answers first, taking extensive shorthand of what they say. She continues this for everyone in turn.
After everyone has finished talking she stands there for a moment in an awkward silence. With a slightly uncomfortable look on her face, she gives a sigh. "I guess after hearing how everyone's courses went, it's only fair I give my experiences too. I learned quite a few things from this Torchbearing. The class on Vudrani and Tien filing systems was exquisite. It gave me a few ideas on how to better organize files of different languages and now the filing from five, six years ago makes much more sense." She trails off for a moment, a wistful look in her eyes.
A moment later she shifts her focus to Janira. "Of course I enjoyed your course. It was great to learn about those types of things, even if I might not go down that path."
She again pauses for a moment, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "But the most useful course, I think, was the same course Salarian here went to. Being able to build a psychological profile of someone based solely on small details you notice about them would be an immensely helpful skill."
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"Ooh, as for me, I think my favourite was Zarta Dralneen's class on ... uh... fiendish rites," Janira replies, with an almost impish grin. As Angela goes into filing systems, however, Janira's eyes start glassing over. She perks up again, however, on hearing her praise. "Thanks, Angela! It's always heartening to know when our efforts are appreciated."
Just then, a gentle chime sounds throughout the banquet hall. "Oh, that's the start of the banquet! I hope they are serving beef pudding. That's my favourite!" Janira exclaims. She gestures to one corner of the room, where a round table of 6 seats is located. "I think those are your seats. Mine is over there. Bye!" she waves merrily at you and disappears into the crowd with a bounce on her feet.
As if on cue, the mingling Pathfinders all start drifting to their seats, and you do the same. As the final round-up of the Torchbearing, the Venture-Captains are aware that everyone just wants to kick back and relax, so without any mind-numbing opening speeches to delay the start of the banquet, the servers start pouring out of the kitchens bearing the first dish bearing assorted chilled seafoods - jellyfish, oysters, squids and others that you do might not recognise. Excited murmurs sweep through the hall as the banquet begins in earnest!
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A meek figure sits in the corner, participating little in the conversation. He would be easy to overlook, if it weren't for his shap, angular features and jet black skin. He sports a bandoleer filled with volatile looking liquids across his chest. He perks up a little when Janira approaches the group.
Oh hi Janira. I'm Ridley. I gotta say, I feel a little out of place here. I haven't even been through my confirmation yet... I've barely made it out of training. I enjoyed the class on the best methods to search a room for secret comparments... there sure do seem to be a lot of those around. Seems like everyone's got something to hide. Say, I've heard that some Pathfinders are given special recognition at the Torchbearing every year and get a nifty special wayfinder. Who d'ya think are the favorites this year?
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"Say, I've heard that some Pathfinders are given special recognition at the Torchbearing every year and get a nifty special wayfinder. Who d'ya think are the favorites this year?
"Oh, I really don't know. There are so many good one. Hmm, I've heard praises for Kramac, the half-orc so far. Do you know him. Oh, the food is coming! Bye!" Janira waves goodbye and disappears into the crowd.
The feast was simply amazing! Platters full of grilled peasants. Slabs of ribs. Piles of spiced potatoes. All washed down by copious amounts of ale and wine. The Pathfinders partake heartily, enjoying each other's company, and just celebrating the completion of a arduous but enjoyable four days of Torchbearing.
As the Pathfinders conclude the dessert course, a small origami swan flutters through the room and lands on the center of the table. In moments, it unfolds itself into a crisp and crease-less piece of paper.
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Ree reads the note as it unfurls and she actually does a spit-take of whatever alcoholic drink she was consuming bursting out with laughter and spraying it everywhere and on anyone nearby!
"Ha! Hahahaha! I knew Valsin had to have a sense of humor under that mustache somewhere!"
As soon as she recovers from her giggle fit she stands and rapidly starts rolling reefclaw hors doeuvres up in her napkin. "I'm gonna get hungry later I know it and you really can't beat reefclaw when it's served like this! I'll grab my gear and meet you all at the museum! Bye!" and like a beam of light she's gone.
...a minute later she's back chewing on a reefclaw snack in one cheek. "Oh yeash sorry. Ree'sh the name. I'll be doing the shtabbings tonight. See yoush there!" ...and she's gone again.
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Salarian takes out a grubby handkerchief from somewhere deep in the recesses of his robe and tries to wipe Ree's drink from his face, first furrowing his brow, but then quickly breaking into a smile at her continued excited antics.
After finishing the note, he turns to his remaining companions. "I'm not very familiar with the local situation and nobility. Can anyone tell me more about Blakros or Aldain?.
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Having eaten more of the seafood than might be expected from her small stature, Angela gives a contented sigh as she finishes off the last bite of an exotically spiced swamp barracuda fillet. Still in a good-food-haze she lazily watches the origami swan fly in and start to unfurl. This reverie is cut short by her having to dodge out of the way of Ree's spit take.
Standing up from the ground, Angela brushes off the few drops that managed to land on her and then dives to rescue the paper that luckily survived mostly unscathed. With an angry glance at the ifrit, she proceeds to read the letter and then passes it off to the next person. "Sometimes I wish my job here didn't require me to be a field agent. but if has to do with the Blackros Museum, they probably need everyone they can get."
When Salarian speaks up about not knowing much about the infamous Blackros museum, Angela gives a slightly bitter laugh. "While consider yourself lucky. Oh the stacks of paperwork we have to process about that place... But I guess you should know some about the museum and it's curator before you get tangled up in it. I'm sadly only up to the AR 500's of The Complete and Total Genealogy of All Major and Minor Noble Houses of Absalom, but I can tell you some about the museum itself." Angela proceeds to give a short, if exceedingly dry lecture about the museum.
During her lecture, she pauses a few times to grab a bite of fish or reefclaw. With one last bite of food, she stands up and swallows. Looking at the group she says, "I'd best go and grab my things as well. You'd probably best be going as well.
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Looking apprehensively at the roasted peasants, Xantanax is appalled that the Society is serving the proletariat as food to those that would dine on them. "Such is the decadence of the bourgeoisie these days," he muses to himself. He is dining on ribs when the message arrives and Ree spews alcohol on everyone. He fastidiously wipes himself clean and complains about the always urgent summons that come at inopportune moments.
"Another mission about saving the accumulated greed of the bourgeoisie. I long for the mission where I can do something for the people of the Inner Sea and strike a blow for Liberty and Justice for all!"
He fixes two large rib sandwiches and places them on a plate, then fills his wine glass with sangria. Taking his plate and wine goblet with him, he stands up and says, "I shall get my meager possessions and meet you all at the designated point."
He then makes his way out of the tables and the dining hall to his quarters. He will finish his sandwiches and wine along the way, leaving the plate and goblet with a servant as he leaves for the museum with his gear.
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A lithe athletic Varisian woman clasps her fist in her other hand and bows slightly. "Aye, this has been an enlightening experience, particularly the obstacle course," she says with a noticeable Kaer Magan accent.
Volyana declines most of the beverages, eating just enough for her fill. When the message arrives, she stands and ducks the spray of wine. "Well then, party's over." She heads off to the weapon racks to retrieve her things.
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"Thanks Angela, that was most enlightening! I always find it helpful to get some background before going on a mission. Right, I guess I'd better get my stuff. Now, where did I put my scimitar again? Did I store it under by bed? Or in my footlocker? Cupboard perhaps?"
Muttering absentmindedly to himself, he disappears towards the living quarters.
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The front doors of Skyreach burst open with a loud crack. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin strides to the edge of the platform, with a slender elf dressed in practical but expensive clothing trailing meekly behind. The red-faced venture-captain addresses the crowd in a booming voice.
“Pathfinders, I regret interrupting the festivities, but we have something of a situation. Approximately twenty minutes ago, unknown forces invaded the Blakros Museum. Fortunately for everyone involved, the Torchbearing is about cooperation and helping our colleagues, so let’s think of this less as an inconvenience and more as an opportunity to practice what we preach.”
The elf, Nigel, exhales sharply, then speaks, “Now, Ambrus, I’ve spent a king’s ransom fortifying the museum from all sorts of invaders: sentinels from the Golemworks, magical wards from the Arcanamirium, and even contracts for guard beasts, both magical and mundane—spared no expense. I didn’t want to come here, but I’ve got no choice.”
Valsin’s forced smile cracks slightly, showing his annoyance. “Out with it, Nigel. Get to the point.”
“Someone broke into my museum and set off the magical protections! I was preserving priceless Shining Crusade pieces for our new exhibit when the first alarm activated. I sent for district guards and went to investigate, but by the time I arrived, the thieves had already locked themselves in my study. They somehow caused the Shining Crusade relics to fly around the museum and attack my sentinels. Everything is going haywire! The magical traps started to target me, the sentinels are not responding to my commands, and—”
Valsin holds out a hand to steady the increasingly agitated elf. “The last you knew, the thieves were still in your study?” Nigel nods. “Very well. Pathfinders: the Seekers should prepare to teleport directly into the Blakros study—“
“That won’t work,” Nigel interrupts, “The study is magically sealed. After that dreadful Numerian exhibit, I turned it into a magical safe room. The robbers must have figured out how to activate it; no one can get in or out while the wards hold. I can work on breaking the wards, but meanwhile my sentinels are smashing up the collection. Some of those priceless relics are on loan from your own Society lodges, so helping me is really helping yourselves.”
“Fine.” Ambrus Valsin takes a deep breath and then turns to the assembled Pathfinders. “Pathfinders, go to the Blakros Museum, secure any relics you can, disable the security systems, and apprehend the looters if possible. Stay safe.”
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Ree covers her mouth with one hand trying to stifle another fit of giggling at the question even as she slides her pretty new rapier from its scabbard.
"Oh...I'm sure there's someone out there..."
"Oh! That reminds me! Can any of you use this?" Ree produces a wand of cure light wounds that was tucked into her belt. "I'm quick and all but sometimes I take a lucky shot to the face or something ya know?"
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Dozens of Wise District guards surround the Blakros Museum. The sergeant nods to Ambrus Valsin as he approaches, a subtle smirk dancing across the venture-captain’s face. The museum itself is alight with swirling whorls of color and the sounds of metal and stone clashing. Occasionally, brief flashes of light burst from the front entrance, illuminating a toppled banner that says “Legacy of the Shining Crusade.”
The broad-shouldered, middle-aged Ulfen man salutes, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. “Well met, Venture-Captain Valsin. I am Svaralk of Asleifar, Sergeant of the Learned Guard. The Guard appreciates your assistance.” He points to his subordinates, “Our initial attempt to quell the animated relics within failed. I’ve ordered the Guard to withdraw and form a perimeter.”
Ambrus Valsin returns the sergeant’s salute, a gesture of mutual respect. “You once served in Grand Prince Stavian III’s Ulfen Guard, did you not?”
Svaralk nods, “That’s right. Afterwards, I retired to Absalom and have served this city for seven years. This is not the first catastrophe I’ve responded to at the Blakros Museum, though none has been quite so dramatic as this. As if anyone needed further proof of the museum’s reputation for trouble.”
The Ulfen confides to the Venture-Captain, “After Nigel Aldain harangued me for dereliction of duty in not immediately retaking the museum, I’m in no rush to sacrifice the lives under my command until the warring creatures inside wear each other down.” He holds up a hand and shakes his head, “I don’t hold Nigel Aldain’s outburst against him. I recognize the elf is rightfully concerned — albeit rather precious — about his exhibit.”
Svaralk turns to your team of Pathfinders and says, “Before you enter, I can provide you an overview of the museum’s layout and tell you that there are animated relics and guard animals on the ground level, and clockwork creatures skirmishing with each other on the floor above. We also have an especially challenging problem in the gardens at the southeast corner of the museum grounds. Some kind of magical runes displaying swarm-like behavior, more magical devices really than living creatures. They proved too complicated a challenge for me and my guards; we simply lack the skills to disable them.”
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Within seven minutes and thirty three seconds of leaving the dinning hall, Angela is in the Skyreach hall. She has changed into a similarly colored outfit as earlier, but this time with a better range of motion and with some small but obvious repairs. She hoists a heavy laded backpack and an appropriately short longspear.
To Ree's asking after the wand, Angela gives a small frown and a sigh. "Sadly it's not in my repertoire of skills to be able to use those. I'll have to pass."
In front of the museum, Angela half listens to the briefing by the guard captain and half watches the spectacle of the museum. When Svaralk does start talking in actual, concrete details, though Angela is all ears. she quickly asks some pointed questions such as, "What kinds of constructs, exactly?" "Did you recognize any of the magical beasts?" or "Just how are those runes 'swarm like'?" When she finishes with the questioning, she turns back to face the building, and with more of a gleam in her eye then the raucous museum could account for says, "It's a mess, so let's get to organizing it!"
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"Woah, little lady. You're brimming with questions. Sorry I can't help you much there. Whatever the Blackros' got in there, statues and clcokwork devices, animals both mundane and mystical, who knows what you'll find. As for the runes, uh, I am at a lost for words. You just have to see them for yourselves."
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"Collateral damage?" Xantanax laughs. "I think you can count on there being some collateral damage!"
I'm fine with the sequence GM Kuey mentioned. I agree with Ridley in that we are probably supposed to go through all four eventually.
"That Shining Armory place sounds good. Might help for us to get a feel for the struggle to restore order to the museum. I don't think negotiating is going to work very well in the beginning anyway."
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The party cautiously enters the museum by the front entrance, pre-warned by Angela of the chaos that they will face within. Under a sign that reads “The Shining Armory,” priceless Shining Crusade artifacts displayed on pedestals creak and move by some unseen force. Eerie light seems to dart between the objects while the din of a raging battle echoes throughout the chamber. The central feature is a low, artificial hill atop which stand two stuffed owlbears surrounded by shattered undead foes. Each of the beasts wears chainmail barding and an orange-and-black caparison depicting a stylized owlbear. A dead man dressed in furs lies on the floor before a suit of full-plate armor.
Whatever magic that is wreaking havoc in this museum seemed to have affected these artifacts and many of them are animating, attacking at all corners. While you see other Pathfinders battling the animates, a banner of the Shining Crusade starts flapping towards you!
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Having successfully snuck around the place, Angela gladly comes back to the group. "It's pure chaos in there, and needs some chaos imposed on it. For some reason the banners are flapping about. I have no idea what it could be; anyone have any ideas as to what they might be?"
Before the group storms the room, Angela takes out her longspear. " I'm not really strong enough to be a good fighter, but I can be a distraction for enemies, and some give a pointer or two of where to hit. Just let me know if you want my help and I'll stay close to you."
After the door opens, she hustles forward a bit. She sets up position and readies her longspear to distract the banner before it can attack the others.
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Hey guys, that banner is a construct!
Finally seeing an opportunity to blow stuff up, Ridley's lack of confidence disappears, and he stands up straight and starts laughing (some might say cackling?).
Hey guys! Watch this! Ahahahaha!
Finally, as this appears to be an encounter we can handle just fine,
I vote we boost and pass on the token.
Bombs left = 9/10
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"Ah ha!" Ree clearly relishing the idea of going after an enemy who doesn't need to be kept alive for interrogation or worrying about its feelings getting hurt, flies past Xantanax like a bolt of flame with only a quick "coming through!" to him as she does!
(to jump past/along the edge of the artificial hill along her path)
Getting up to the banner she stabs her rapier at it!
If the banner attacks her she'll spend a point of Panache to attempt a parry and riposte!
(has to be higher than the attack roll)
(counter-attack)
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Xantanax moves forward, with Angela following closely behind, getting ready to assist him in deflecting the banner's attacks, if any. Ree, however, takes a more direct route, leaping over part of the hill, closing in towards the approaching banner. She stabs her rapier into the cloth, tearing a large gash across it.
The flying banner seems aware of the damage it has taken thus far. It attempts to flap upwards away from Ree, but its clumsy movements accomplishes little and it remains earthbound, although it manages to retreat away somewhat. Nonetheless, it unfurls itself, reaching out to slam Ree. Ree, however, manages to jump away before it strikes.