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"I have arrived..." states an average looking human with a greatsword strapped to his back and a sawn-off shotgun hanging from his belt.
"Boss said to 'Look out for Tuna', though I don't quite know what that means..." he mumbles to himself as he looks around for his contact.
"I wonder if they got any human meat at these things... Dammit! Those cannibals infected me, but lion and aurochs just don't quite satisfy anymore..." Stag thinks to himself as he sees a butcher shop.
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You have all been invited for this year's Grand Convocation, which not only managed to catch your attention, but awaken a sense of excitement within you. It is known that much happens at this highly anticipated moment of the Society's social life. As Pathfinders from all over Golarion journey to the Grand Lodge in Absalom to gather and commemorate recent discoveries and noteworthy achievements alike, some also come to celebrate with old friends they haven't seen for a long time.
The whole Grand Lodge is abuzz with bright colours, exotic perfumes and odd accents, reflecting how popular the Society has become over the past few years, recruiting members from all horizons. Many Venture-Captains have also come, leaving their musty offices for the teeming life of the lodge's courtyard. You also catch glimpse of some friends you have come to meet over the years, sharing a drink and catching up with them. Stories, after all, are made to be shared.
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Having just finished exploring one level of the Thornkeep dungeon(and personally slaying the huge bug like creature who guarded it, but not before getting grievously wounded in return) Rogar wastes no time with a change of dress and joins the grand convocation immediately after his return to Absalom.
While another Taldan could have spent hours if not days to prepare for such an event Rogar was only interessed in 2 things: booze and women, exactly in that order. And in his experience the latter were more likely to be impressed by a weary soldier just coming back from an adventure and looking for a good time than by another Taldan fop partecipating into a personal (and excalating) fashion war with everyone else around...
So the taldan moves from stand to stand, decided on sampling every possible beverage while taking note of any unusual beauties for possible later acquittance...
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Rogar seems very pleased with meeting Antonella and greets her with a wide smile:"Well met Antonella! I must say I'm indeed lucky: here I am, just returned from the lawless River Kingdoms, weary from the jurney and thirsty for... companionship! And who greets me? A fine lady and a fellow pathfinder, no less! I'm Rogar of House Valertis from fair Taldor. As for my latest adventure... I expect it to be recorded soon enough but I'll be more than happy to give you the details, if only you allow me to buy you a drink..." so saying the Taldan pathfinder reaches the nearest stand selling ales and buy a couple of pints handing one to Antonella.
"So... tell me... have you ever heard of the Thornkeep dungeon? Well, deep inside the Echo Wood lies a small village named Thornkeep and right under it, a huge dungeon filled with peril and mystery..."
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Stag wanders around the Convocation after sampling the tastes and sights of the Society, leaving Tuna the Bold Strider to her task of finding the best anchovies in the Hall.
The Bold Strider-in-training is able to see a pink-haired girl give a rousing speech in front of the statue of Durvin Gest, but her words seemed odd. Meh, all of this revelry seems odd. Aren't the Aspis still out and about? Have we really accomplished anything? he wonders to himself as he sees the old and new Pathfinders clapping themselves on the back.
Oh well, at least they pay well. I wonder who I get to drag in next...
He eventually stumbles upon Tuna and sees that she is speaking with a rather stout man. Mmm... tasty looking. I bet his meat is quite tender with all of that weight-training.
He approaches and grins wildly. "Care to introduce me, Antonella?" he says with a bow.
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As you start to gather and meet a young and dashing Chelaxian comes to greet you, a bright smile on his well-tended, cleanly-shaven face. His clothes are rather simple, those of an explorer save a finely-wrought mithral chain shirt whose color match his eyes. Straight dark hair come down on his shoulders, with a whiff of lavender and icebloom.
"I am Auric Voralius, librarian of the Scrolls and archaeologist. Well met, Pathinders!" he reveals as he nods to each and every one of you. "Is this your first Grand Convocation? It's the case for me, so I'm so excited about this - aren't you? I think we're in for a treat, according to the many rumours I've heard."
After listening carefully to your introductions, he motions towards the yard of the Grand Lodge, where hundreds of Pathfinders now roam and chat. "Have you heard? There are many challenges that you can take part in - a grand occasion to make a name for yourself, or just to compare your skill to that of your fellow Pathfinders, don't you think?"
"There's an animal training contest over there near the menagerie. I'm sure some of you know how to calm down a fierce beast! Or you could try the storytelling contest near the statue of Durvin Gest. Well, they call it storytelling but it's more of a boasting contest if you ask me. Alternatively, there's the more serious lore symposium that's happening at the Quadrangle, if you need something more challenging to the mind. There's also the obstacle course for the younger and more nimble among you. Or a sleuthing contest if you're good at finding clues quickly. Or maybe you're like me, interested in all manners of deadly traps? There's a trap mastery contest at the Mausoleum. Finally, there's a weight lifting contest if you think you can beat Master Farabellus! The choice is yours, really."
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Stag laughs at his introduction. "I haven't slit a throat in weeks, Tuna." he says grinning.
Stag bows to Rogar and feels up his bicep. "Ah, you work out?" he asks with a wink. "Perhaps you can show us a feat of strength at the nearby boulder lift?" he asks, ushering the group towards a group of giant boulders.
"Lifting heavy things is only a slight recreation for me, as it is for all Bold Striders, right Tuna? However, I'm more adept at handling things like..." he says as he quick draws his sawn-off shotgun and blasts a pellet into the ground near a tent set up across from the boulders.
As the bullet hits the ground, lights and sounds erupt from the tents and a man comes over with a small token. "Gee golly mister. How did you know that that trip wire led out of the spike trap there?" asks the red-faced kid manning the trap booth.
Stag winks at him. "Practice, son. You'll get there." he says as he tousles the kids hair.
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“And ale too I see.”
Antonella politely declines the offer of a pint. “I’m all right with what I have, thank-you brother.”
For a moment Rogar seems mildly disappointed but then he gives a powerful laugh and smiles widely:"That's... unfortunate. But well, as you correctly guessed I do love beer, so that's no big loss, I can guarantee no droplet will be lost!
Rogar has the monk’s attention now. “I have heard the first below-ground level is particularly dangerous. With success determined by how one deals with a simple choice of black … or wight.”
“How deeply have you delved? Have you recovered any unique plunder? I mean … unique artefacts from a bygone age, to be examined by experts and put on display for the public good.”
"Down to the third level, the ones above that were actually not that complicated to deal with, but the third... T' was a place aptly named the enigma vaults. Full of wonders from the cold dark space beyond our sphere. As for plunder, as you called it, we were able to recover several important pieces, among them an oddly shaped war gauntlet meant for something with just 3 fingers that was very sharp on the outside and a saddle meant for riding dragons. There also were some insect-like cursed items but I'm unsure about what will be done with those..." answers Rogar cheerfully.
When Stag approaches Rogar stiffens a little but salutes him in a friendly manner:"Well met Stag. Even if only half of Antonella's description is true then I can see us becoming fast frineds pretty soon!" he says, clasping hands with the newcomer and laughing at his jabs:"We shall see, friend... we shall see!"
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Rogar listens to Auric's description of the day's events nodding at the fellow's excited words:"Not the first for me Auric, but I must say it's always a wonder, and always so different, so don't worry if this is your first time here... It's bound to be an unique expirience, and if you meet someone who says he's seen it all again and again, trust my words, he'll be either a fool or a liar!"
Then, listening to Antonella's words and still trying to impress her while also taking up Stag's challange, Rogar points at the place where they are holding the boulder lifting contest:"As my lady wishes. I wanted to impress those old geezers with my superior knowledge of dungeons and underground fortifications but it seems this year the master of swords shall know the bitter taste of defeat instead!" he boasts, mindlessly.
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Upon beholding Stag's unexpected success, a dark-haired halfling comes over and nudges the bounty hunter. "Oy, nice one matey - let me buy you a drink! By the way, have you heard about the latest news? It seems that a large number of venture-captains posted abroad have made a concerted effort to attend the Grand Convocation this year. There is speculation that there are interesting plans for the year ahead and that they’re jockeying for consideration from the Decemvirate."
Antonella's graceful moves do not go unnoticed either, the light-headed aasimar likewise shares the latest gossip. "Well done, girl! Falayna teaches us that we woman hve unparalleled potential, and you're exploiting it wonderfully! Just like all those new recruits we've made recently - the Mendevian crusade, our recent success in the Worldwound and the discoveries we've made in that Sky Citadel - what was its name again? - has captured the imaginations of a new crop of Pathfinders. The best part is that they seethe Society as a potential force for good as well as scholarship. The halls of the Quadrangle have not been so full in many years, and neither have the many holy places of all Absalom!"
While Rogar's performance does not manage to beat the Master of Swords', it is still an impressive display of raw strength, beholden by an enthusiastic Auric. "Woah, remind me never to anger you! You could kill a bear with those bare hands, hahaha!" Once goblets of mead have been found and start being sipped, the archaeologist's words start flowing. "You know, I'm very fond of this city's politics, but this is going too far in my opinion. Have you heard? A Foreign Quarter councilman, Lord Omrys of House Ahnkamen, has registered some concern about the Grand Convocation with Absalom’s Grand Council. Lord Omrys feels that the Pathfinder Society is a “weirdness magnet” that brings more trouble to the city than good. He fears that a “Pathfinder Convention” is only going to exacerbate and concentrate the mischief that surrounds the Society, so he has requested that the district guard keep close tabs on the Grand Lodge for the next week. The Decemvirate has been in contact with Lord Omrys and assured him that all will be well. I can't believe someone could think that something wrong could happen. How could it?" he concludes with a smirk.
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Lore mastery
Kalista joins the grand circle to tell a story of previous adventures of vaunted Pathfinder agents. Her word choice is admirable as she paints a picture with the verbiage and elocution without getting too verbose.
With the tales told, she opts to have a little fun with the obstacle course, though she is pretty confident it will end with her splashing down in the pools beneath the tests of strength, endurance, and dexterity. Sure enough, she plooshes down on the quintuple steps at the very start of the course. Still! She is in high spirits as she moves towards the group.
"Sorry, everyone. I get so caught up in the festivities. This is all so exciting, don't you think?! I'm Kalista. Master Zay told me personally through a chain of assistants to go enjoy myself, so here we are!"
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Rogar looks first at the boulder and then towards the master of swords, looking sad and embarassed:"Seems like the old man still has a decent throw. It's all right I guess... it wouldn't have been fair for me to humiliate him during the Grand Convocation. The old man represents us all, so it's only right we give him some leniency..." mutters the taldan, visibly upset for the defeat.
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"Nice meeting you, Kalista, I'm Rogar of House Valertis, from noble Taldor. If Aram Zey told you to enjoy yorself disobeying his orders would be tantamount to treason, wouldn't it? Better we steer you in the right direction then... would you like an ale, perhaps? But first let me try to teach something about dungeon fauna to these blockheads..." so saying the taldan moves with surprising speed towards the lore symposium...
... and manages to make some decent arguments but nothing truly impressive or mind blowing for the experienced pathfinders partecipating to the debate.
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Kalista makes an excellent job disputing fine lore points with some of the higher authorities in the matter. She soon attracts the attention of an old scholar who introduces himself as Yargos Gill. "Your depiction of Selmius Foster's accomplishment was most brilliant. It reminded me of that artifact everyone is talking about today, the Sky Key. You may remember that the principal discovery of the sky citadel of Jormurdun has been moved to a strange chamber with no corners along the exterior walls, floor, and ceiling. This is to help shield it from strange otherworldly entities. This year’s keynote address is allegedly about the artifact discovered in Jormurdun."
Unfortunately, she doesn't fare better at her second challenge, and neither does Rogar. However, Antonella makes a name for herself as she takes part in the sleuthing challenge. This event is hosted in a lecture hall in one of the eastern outbuildings, where several agents have set up a fake crime scene. An audience watches as Antonella - once blindfolded - is led into the middle of the scene. She then removes her blindfold and has two minutes in which to examine the scene before replacing the blindfold. After that, she gives a relatively accurate description from memory of all of the clues and forensic evidence that she noticed to an audience and event organizer. The latter, a sylph known as Anáil, claps his hands as Antonella successfully finishes her description. "An excellent job, Ambrus Valsin would be proud of you. If half of the Pathfinders had even half your memory and observation skills, we wouldn't have to send so many rescue teams. Ah, I am but ranting again, aren't I? Don't listen to me, save for this. Arliss Hall is full to the brim with visiting venture-captains from abroad. The building is rumored to mysteriously change its internal layout. The increased comings and goings have prompted it to do so with even greater regularity and many venture-captains have become lost themselves, wandering the hallways."
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Kalista chuckles. "You tried calling yellow mould a viable source of food, provided you can withstand its effects as it passes through your belly. Now, normally, I can get behind that, but I hear the taste is more foul than its effects. As told by much less fortunate folks before they... well, you know..." She mocks clutching her throat and goes cross-eyed as her tongue lolls out of her mouth.
She also has no idea how to respond to Antonella's claims. Elves are as much a part of this world as the forests and the seas...
Eventually she responds with "You flatter me, though it was a simple story. But I am not much a stranger from the lands. I may draw on the fade in power, but I am fully of here." She pauses and echoes her previous thoughts. "As much a part of this world as the forests and the seas!" Perhaps a little too emphatically...
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Rogar scoffs at Kalista remark:"It IS a viable source if the alternative is starvation... Not the best of options, agreed, but we pathfinders are rarely given the best situation possible when we delve in the underbelly of some ancient and murderous civilization's ruins..."
Unhappy with his performace thus far Rogar points at the sleuthing contest:"I'm not done yet... let see if I can still follow some tracks..."
And this time Rogar's able follow the tracks he's presented with, correctly identifying them and reaching the end of the trail with ease.
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“I am sure a new companion would find it difficult to remain in your good graces, if they begin by giving you a name like those found in a pantomime.”
"Oh, well I don't know about that. I met this gnome back at the lore symposium what gives everyone a name when they first meet. Something about the more names, the greater the pride. Must be a gnomey thing. Kept calling me Cally. Like Calico. Not sure how to take it, but I kind of like it." She catches herself rambling again.
Kalista then watches Rogar follow the clues like a professional and greets his return with some light applause before taking a chance at one of the sleuthing courses herself. He did, after all, make it look easy.
She emerges proud with herself. "It was the safe which was missing in the burnt out room. You could tell by the lack of ash in the spot where it was sitting. Someone must have burnt down all the furnishings to find it then remove it once the flames settled."
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"Ha HA! An ale for my gunsmanship? That is a sure deal!" yells Stag as he follows Black Bart Flaxseed to a nearby table in the ale tent. "A flagon of ale for me on my friend here!"
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Stag, looking decidedly more drunk than what a single offered beer would accomplish, stumbles out of the drink tent, smelling more than a bit of something a bit stronger than ale.
"It'sh time for good ol' Shtag to learn shome people." the Bold Strider concludes as he sees a bald, portly man giving a lecture on magical physics through an open window. "As you can see, the very reality of the Material Plane is a farce when examined through a lens of magical foci..."
Boldly striding into the lecture hall, Stag zeroes in on the professor.
"Out of the way, shtuffed shhirt." he says as he elbows his way to the podium.
"Now, let me tell yoush about getting around town, meeting people and arreshting them." Stag starts before detailing the intricacies of bounty hunting in a city.
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Antonella's speech is a memorable one, though it raises more questions than it answered - isn't it always the case with good spiritual disputationes? While many minds dwell on the paladin's words, a fanciful halfling pops up in front of her, a pint of mead in his hand. He offers one to Antonella. "Woaaa, that was a good speech. At least I guess so, because I didn't understand a single word you said. I guess my cous' Jonah could, but I can't see him anywhere around here. Let's drink to Iriri... I mean, Iriro! Err, Iro... well, to HIM!"
In his half-drunkenness, the halfling's tongue loosens even more and you learn that the Master of Spells, Aram Zey, was slated to deliver the keynote address but begged out of the privilege, citing his general dislike and disdain for the Grand Convocation as a colossal waste of time and expense. Marcos Farabellus, Master of Swords, volunteered to take his place.
Rogar and Kalista both perform well in the sleuthing contest, earning the respect of their peers. In the wake of the resounding success, other pathfinders flock to offer them drinks. Of course, more rumours are shared.
"The budget to maintain the menagerie has been temporarily expanded for the Grand Convocation. The Grand Lodge is capitalizing on the large number of visitors to present as many unusual specimens as possible." Rogar learns from a well-informed ranger, while Kalista learns that the Decemvirate has spared no expense on this year’s Grand Convocation and has reached out to as many Pathfinders as possible and underwritten some costs when necessary. This is an effort to demonstrate their appreciation to field agents, repair any frayed relationships, and celebrate a successful year.
Stag's drunkenness is less appreciated, however, and the poor Patfinder finds himself brought outside the building to sleep it off...
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The priestess cheers. “WAY TO GO, ROGAR!”
Before continuing her train of thought ... “Inebriation is a poor reason for failure. Stag – for all his faults – would never use drunkenness as an excuse for not succeeding.”
Rogar finally smiles and bows to his fellow pathfinders:"I aim to please my good ladies!" he exclaims, looking quite pleased with himself.
Then his attention shifts towards Stag as he comes back from his drunken speech:"Inebriation is a gift. Our friend stag here just needs to lose himself in it... then he'll find himself and will be able to do great deeds! So... lst's respect this sacred trial..." he dubiously claims helping Stag to sit down|
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"'Ey! Get yer handsh off me! I'm an illushtrioush Pathfinder!" Stag yells obstinately as two large men carry/drag him out of the lecture hall.
"I shee that ye don't want a proper learning!" he bellows through the window as the pudgy professor looks on sheepishly from his podium.
Stag stumbles over a non-existent rock as he looks for his group. After a few minutes, he decides that enough is enough and eyes a patch of the soft grass on the lawn. With the sun beating down, the bounty hunter decides that a nap is in proper order.
But then, Rogar and Antonella come barreling out of nowhere and accost him in his drunken state. "Ah! It'sh nap time! Why'd ye have to shhow up now?" he says as he beelines for the lawn, avoiding Rogar gropy hands.
Once he is firmly on the ground through a combination of falling and tumbling, Stag finds the most comfortable position, face down in the grass with his body straight as an arrow.
"Now thish ish the good shtuff..." he mutters to himself before drifting off.
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An apparently drunken sailor, a monkey curled around his neck and sleeping, stumbles past the group. The man's manner of locomotion is to stumble until almost falling over, then catching himself on the nearest bystander at which point he shouts.
Pushing off the bystander, the man lurches forward, calling out for Tuna the whole time, to next convenient person to catch his fall, and repeats this question.
"Tuna? Ssscuse me, 'av ye shhheen Tuna? No? S'okay, sssorry. Ssshe 'as to be 'ere ssomewhere........"
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"In my extensive experience of the matter sleeping after a good toast to Cayden is the best way to wear the effects of his blessing off... and, you know... sometimes he even sends you prophetic dreams... sort of... Butm my lady, go if you must I can guarantee no evill shall befall the Bold Strider here" finishes Rogar giving Stag a light tap with his boot.
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The Pathfinder Society is under attack!
Sir Laribold Croome, an immaculately dressed Taldan nobleman scrambles for cover behind a table, which his halfling manservant helpfully flips onto its side. Catching his breath, the Taldan fumbles for his monocle before addressing the nearby Pathfinders. “Monsters and villains are attacking all over the grounds,” he states with perfect articulation, punctuated by a crossbow bolt that embeds itself in his makeshift barricade. “Spread out, patrol the grounds, and snuff out trouble as you find it. If you should discover any clues about what the devil is going on, report back here at the base of Skyreach.” He pulls his sword cane free from its sheath and raises it overhead. “Look alive, and show initiative,” he shouts before performing an elaborate dueling salute in the direction of an elephant and setting off after it.
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Stag groans as people run past him in panic. He turns to Rogar and squints at the man. "Ugh... Figure we should help? Ah, screw it. Karu'd probably yell at me an' Tuna if I didnt'." he reasons as he pops his own Alchemist's Kindness before drawing greatsword and marching to find trouble on the northwest campus.
"On me Rogar!" the man yells as he spots Kalista and Antonella. "Ready for some trouble?" he asks.