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To your surprise, you each receive an invitation to Club 149, a private lounge located on the higher levels of Skyreach. There are many cozy lounges located in Skyreach where Pathfinders can study, socialize and plot future missions. But this one is rumored to be invite-only, and open to those taking on missions for the Decemvirate itself. Packed tight with chambers ranging from well-known ballrooms named after nations to innumerable trophy rooms and museums to rows of featureless doors identified only by number, Skyreach is a warren that only the Decemvirate understands completely. The majority of its mysterious spaces are off-limits to all but those specifically invited by Ambrus Valsin, the venture-captain who runs the daily operations of the Grand Lodge at the Decemvirate's command.
Identified only by the ‘149’ on the otherwise featureless door, the club on the outside looks like the entrance to a supply closet. Inside is a different story. A liveried automaton bows, takes your coats, hangs them, and offers you drinks. “If you’ll follow me?”
He leads you to a lounge with cozy leather seats and a stunning nighttime view of Absalom. A sideboard contains plates, utensils and a variety of chafing dishes, savory-smelling steam rising from their lids. There are also baskets with bread rolls and fruit.
“If there will be nothing more, I would like to power down until your briefing,” the automaton says. “Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.”
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The little gnome hurries into the room. The spellbook poking from her backpack was almost as large as she was, and it tilted to the side as she tried to take the pack off. She looked around, saw she was the first to arrive, and mosied over to the food spread. She took a plate, filled it with bread, cheese and fruit and took her chair beside her gear. A tiny bird took a spot on her shoulder as she shared her bread with it.
"I've never seen an automaton like that before, have you? It looks pretty neat...id like to check the bells and whistles and see how it was constructed! But, I'd probably get in trouble," she giggled.
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"I was hoping for a break while Iron Tarkus was out cleansing the Worldwound of its demon-worshiping dwarf infestation. It is always the next fight with him, never time to sit and compose the tale of our battles..."
The grumbling stops short as a half-orc enters the room. His eyebrow quirks up in amusement, "Would you take a look at this?"
Ignoring the automaton, he goes straight for the sideboard, piling a plate with sausages, bread, gravy, and a pungent cheese. When he sits down, he retrieves a ration pack from his haversack and pulls out a pack of peppers.
Grigorii sits back, appraising the gnome, as he chews a bit of sausage and pepper, before speaking.
"Would you like one?" he says, offering his peppers "They never have the good ones around here. Extra hot"
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Little Pai's open wide at the fiery scent of the peppers. "Goodness no! I think Callie and myself might burst into flames if that pepper got within 10' of us! You enjoy yourself though...I won't judge you. I'm Pai and this little one is Callie. I suppose you are here for the meeting too? I wonder what it's all about!"
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A man wearing plain brown robes, tied together by a decent belt and carrying nothing more than a backpack walks in, he moves quickly and perches at the periphery of the room. His head rotates as he seems to take in everyone. He'll reply having heard Grigorii as he made his way in, I'm here for the meeting too, I was named for the sound it makes when I fight. I go Tink Tink they go Tunk. Then he'll go quiet and keep observing his surroundings and the people he'll be joining in the field.
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A tall Taldan man, wearing immaculate full plate and a large golden key around his neck walks in. He looks over the room, and seeing nothing untoward, introduces himself. "Good day, Pathfinders. I am Sir Magnus Landros, Knight of The Master of the First Vault. I got the message to meet here. Do any of you know what is going on?"
He asks the automaton for a port, preferably from Oppara, and then selects some of the food that has been laid out for them.
"I assume you folks will be teaming up with me to perform some mission. To that end, I will let you know that I am primarily melee combatant, though The Lord of the First Vault has gifted me the ability to aid my resiliency in battle, as well as heal others.
"Fear not, my fine compatriots, should you fall in battle, I will be able to return you to fight again! While on a mission with me, you shall not have to... permanently... pay the final price.
"What is it that the rest of you fine folk do for the Pathfinder society?"
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Grigorii puts down his plate of food and pulls a lyre from his magical bag, "I'm an amateur on the strings, but they make a good accompaniment when I sing. This one is about when my friend Tarkus and I joined the great Sky Key experiment. He's pretty sure we founded the modern religion of Gorum."
He strums a chord and begins to sing softly.
[Intro]
"A long, long time ago
Pathfinders searchin’ for pieces of that sky key
And we knew if we had our chance
We could move through time in a trance
And travel through empires lost to history
Going to Sesshigoss made me shiver
With every serpent death we delivered
Bad news in the Slave Pens!
Revolution all over again!
I can’t remember if I cried
When all the serpent priests were fried
Secrets from Azlant were pried
The day of our time slide
[Chorus]
So bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die
Did you write the book of fate
And know the prophecies they relate
If Arodeth tells you so?
Now do you believe in destiny
Will one asteroid set us free
And can you take me to the vault beeee-lowwww?
Well, I know you reset fate on a whim
Though your chance of success is slim
You’re bathed in that green glow
Oh babe, you gotta go!
But now I really can’t complain
We’ve got a copy of Kreighton Shaine
But I worry we’re out of luck
The day of our time slide
[Chorus]
So bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die
Now for two hours we’ve been on our own
(Well, us and our Kreighton clone)
So Alrule thinks she’s an Azlanti
And Binui shuffles harrow for the Queen
Calling doom on all he’s seen
Trying to con the likes of you and me
Gad Gemple thinks he’s a god newborn
Omandi Mil was left forlorn
Her hopes like skin were all burned
No one could say what she learned
And then Romnus stole his golden hoard
So he could be a dragon lord
Yeah, he kinda went overboard
The day of our time slide
[Chorus]
So bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die
Helter skelter there’s nowhere to shelter
If you meet the witch can you melt her?
Earthfall’s high and falling fast
Now I don’t mean to be crass
But I don’t want to wind up on my ass
In a crater of molten glass...
Now the vault is open is there room
To convince Arodeth she’s a loon?
And now the simulcra advance
Well, they haven’t got a chance!
'Cause simulcra tried to take the field
The Pathfinders refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day of our time slide?
[Chorus]
We started singing bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die
Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Snuff anchors like a candlewick
‘Cause we don’t like where this may end
Oh, and as we came upon them in the vault
We doubled the strength of our assault
We wouldn’t let the cult
Determine our end result
And as we stacked anchors high that night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Arodeth shrieking full of fright
The day of our time slide
[Chorus]
She was singin’ bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die
[Outro]
I met a girl who wanted sense
But realized that we’d be past tense
If her followers had their way...
We went down to her secret vault
She told us it was not our fault
And to fix things she would have to stay
And in the streets, Azlanti screamed
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The prophecies were broken
And the three men I admire most
Shaine, GM Mars, and Aroden’s ghost
Told us to flee or we’d all be toast
The day of our time slide
[Chorus]
And they were singing bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die
They were singing bye, bye, let’s let Aroden lie
Time to berate the Anchors of Fate the best we can try
And them murder hobos looking at death in the sky
Singin’ this’ll be the way that we die
This’ll be the way that we die"
When he finishes his song, he puts the lyre away and picks up his plate of food. Taking a slice of bread, he mops up some of the gravy leftover.
"Good to meet you, Magnus. My name is Grigorii. My music can inspire heroic feats of strength, fearsome rage, or strike terror in the hearts of my enemies." he gestures toward a lion-shaped shield near his pack. "That is Glorymane. He can't talk, so mostly he just observes, but he packs a mean bite." He pauses a moment, "Then again, so do I," then flashes a wide grin to show off his sharpened tusks.
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A tiny, deep brown fox trots into the room, glancing around before heading to an armchair, leaping to the seat, to the arm, and then up to the back of it. It sits there, its tail wrapping around itself as it surveys the room slowly.
"Good day." It speaks clearly, though with a slight tien accent, in Taldan.
The nose of the fox starts wiggling as he picks up the smell of the peppers wafting on the air.
"Those smell delicious, sir," the fox nods at Grigorii. "From where do those peppers, and yourself, hail?"
At the prompt of the Taldan man, the fox shakes his head, stands, and bows. "Apologies, I am Masafusa. I am here to supply magical support in the form of befuddling our enemies."
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The half-orc waves a pepper at the talkative canine, "These I get imported from the orcs in Belkzen. Some friends of mine from Averaka have contacts in Urgir, and orc rations put a fire in you like nothing else on Golarion." Then sits back to reminisce, "I am from Ostenso, Cheliax originally. Grew up in the fighting pits. Smallest fighter in my cadre, but I came out on top. You do not win all the battles with strength alone," he winks knowingly at the fox. "I have since settled down in the Home to all Half-Orcs with my wife Tabi." Grigorii speaks with pride about his new home, but seems embarrassed to have said so much, waving away his thoughts.
He sits up with interest in the newcomer, "What brings you across the Crown of the World? I have only been to the Tien continent once. In Shokuro I helped to defend a town from marauding tengus." He looks quizzically at the fox. "Are you always a fox?"
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"Those smell as if they could rival those of my homeland. Very good."
The fox sits up and wraps its tail around itself again. "My homeland was not very hospitable to those that did not feel like fighting to survive. The Society gave me an opportunity to put my skills to use while pairing me with those that could fight more skillfully than I. It was a good compromise," the fox nods. "As for this form, it tends to keep me safe. I have others, but this one is quite preferred."
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The quiet and slinky man in the back, fighting fans tucked into his belt, slides forward during the conversation, "Hey! I'm Vendel, Vendel Naughton." And he puts his hand out to shake, to each in turn, "I a, know a ting or two about the fighting arts from the east, if you know what I mean. I know a guy, he taught me everyting I know. So if'n you need a guy ta sneak around and catch guys unaware, I'm yer guy, if you know what I mean."
He begins loading his plate with some of the fixins, and looks over ag Grigorii, "Don't mind if I do." As he plucks a pepper or two onto his plate. "So, any of yous guys want ta buy some property? I know a guy who knows a guy who's got a good place near Magnimar. I could get you touch, if you know what I mean."
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Pai basically squeed in delight at seeing the fox. "Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness! You are so handsome! I've never met a real live kitsune before. I mean, I've read stories about you, but never met one! It's so nice to meet you. I'm Pai. And my feathered friend over there is Callie. It's nice to meet all of you," she smiled, not recognizing any of the agents.
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"No, seriously," Magnus says, with a puzzled look on his face, looking at Vendel. "I really don't know what you mean? Who is this guy? Should we meet this guy? Why would you want to catch folks unaware? That seems quite unfair."
Magnus looks very pained trying to figure out what this odd person is trying to tell him.
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The kitsune nods his head to Pai. "You seem like you are comfortable travelling with small creatures - I may make use of that and stay next to you through our journey."
Masa sighs as he turns to Magnus.
"Magnus, I believe he is referring to work that falls between the lines of light and dark."
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Magnus listens to what Masafusa has to say, but it is very apparent that none of that makes any sense to him. "Still don't get it. You mean working in the shade? If that's it, then I understand it, seeing as I wear this heavy Taldan steel as protection. Get's really hot when you are out in the sun. Now, if Aroden... I mean Abadar... has granted me the ability to endure elements that day, I would be less concerned about the sun. Are we going to be adventuring out doors this time?"
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"That's not what I understand, Vendel Naughton. Things you don't know can definitely hurt you. If you eat comprised food, for example, you can get sick. Well, you can... Abadar protects me, but you can. There was a taint in the food, perhaps a demonic infestation, and now it has gotten into your stomach, and through that, the rest of you. You then get violently ill, and can no longer keep any food down. Within a few days, you are so weak that you are bedridden, and eventually you die. You didn't know the food was tainted, but you have died. That, I would say, hurt you." Magnus looks very pleased with himself on that dissertation.
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Lord in Iron, would I have ever thought I would miss the Baronesses? They were so ever practical and prepared
"As a certain halfling was fond of reminding me, the Chronicles are full of Pathfinders that wound up on the Wall of Names by going forward unprepared."
"When faced with danger, as we certainly will be, I cannot be sure of our strategy without being sure of my companions. My faith may not be fond of discipline, but we loathe to lose a fight."
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"Masafusa, I would be honored to walk with you beside me. I might ask you a bunch of dumb questions though, please don't be offended!"
Pai perks up at hearing Grigori's words. "Well, I don't know that halfling, but she sounds super smart. And is probably awesome and quite pretty, too, I bet. Sounds like she's meant for great things in the Society! I really liked your song, in case I forgot to mention it!"
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"Hah! Not that I would ever tell her to her face, but you are probably right about her." Grigorii's face becomes thoughtful, Libraries can be quite adventurous, and librarians even more so." *shudder* "I picked up a thing or two from her about research that served me well when I went hunting down Aram Zey's lost soul. I enjoyed paging through all that knowledge so much, I started reading her Chronicles." he shrugs, "Just to keep sharp, you know."
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Tink is happy to perch in the corner watching people fight for no real reason. These people are ready for a new mission, Irori bless us and let our briefing start soon
He pulls out a bag of snacks and starts flipping them into the air and eating them, though the crunch is suprisingly loud.
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Perception 1d20+12
In the middle of her conversation with the fox and the half orc, Pai looks up at the awful sounds coming from the corner and sees Tink Tunk crunching handfuls of insects. "Ooooo, yucky," she says as she makes an awful Scrunched up face. "Those are even worse than the insanity peppers Grigori has been eating. This whole mission is going to be stinky, I can already tell!". She hops up, grans a few more pieces of bread, and throws a whole wedge of cheese in her bag.
Bzzzt.
Processing data. Correct group for mission?
Yes. Proceed.
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Automaton 149 finishes pouring port for Magnus, puts the bottle away, and then one indicator light on his chest begins to flash.
On.
Off.
On.
Off.
It turns to face you. "Mission Briefing commencing."
Automaton 149’s chest opens, revealing a piece of parchment and a sealed letter addressed to Nashota Bloodhoof. The parchment is high quality, and bears the rune of the Decemvirate.
Esteemed Pathfinders:
We ask that you deliver this sealed missive to Princess Nashota Bloodhoof of the Cangarit tribe of Centaurs in the Kortos Mounts. She’s volatile, but it is of paramount importance that you secure her cooperation.
The Decemvirate
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"Mission Briefing concluded. Please leave your dishes on the sideboard when you go."
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Knowledge Geography
Knowledge History
Unfortunately, few of these crusaders bothered to differentiate between the guilty and the innocent. Bounties were paid for any centaur hide, Rathangut or not, making every centaur on the isle fair game. This brought even the more remote tribes, like the Cangarit clan, into direct conflict with the humans.
Things only got worse when Nashota Bloodhoof, warrior-princess of the Cangarit tribe, killed the son of Telannious Otheron, a wealthy scion of Absalom. Both sides accused each other of starting the conflict, and what began as a simple brush war soon escalated into a full-on blood feud. The campaign did not go well for the Cangarit tribe. Though they outmatched the hired thugs sent after them by House Otheron, they lacked the numbers and resources necessary to handle the human onslaught.
The Cangarit were pushed deeper into the Kortos Mounts and forced to contend not only with human attacks, but also with an increasing number of harpy and minotaur raids as the centaurs encroached on the monstrous races' territories. The tribe was on the verge of the collapse. Fortunately, the Pathfinder Society caught wind of the Cangarit-Otheron feud, and helped settle it. In the end, it cost the Pathfinders a sizeable sum to pay for the dead nobleman's resurrection, but their diplomats secured both a truce and a promise from Nashota.
Knowledge Local or Diplomacy
The Decemvirate is very interested in winning this contest, and has been recruiting the best fighters they can find.
Grigorii, my fortunate thrall,
This horse-girl you're going to meet is certainly feisty, I'll give her that, but can we really count on an unruly beast-woman to win us the tournament? Yet the Decemvirate is dead set on the centaur, so for good or ill it seems we're stuck with her. Still, it would ease my mind if we had a more reliable account of her skill at arms than the tavern tales everyone's spreading around. Perhaps you could use that barbed tongue of yours to goad her into putting on a show?
By no means pick a fight with our little Princess. Simply convince her to spar with another centaur or two, and report back to me once you've seen her in action.
Awaiting you in Agony,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen
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As Vendel gets done displaying his fighting prowess on a ficus in the corner, he exclaims, "It's about time, if you know what I mean."
Vendel flourishes with his fighting fans, slashing and slicing, as leaves go flying, "An I hit them here ta break their spleen, an over here ta burst their eyeballs, if you know what I mean."
"I tink this might have somethin ta do with the Ruby Phoenix Tournament!"
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I know that these briefings are often low on information, but this one seems even lighter on info than most. I know a couple people who've participated in the Ruby Phoenix, lots of good fights from what I hear. Umm Grigorii I don't know how to tell you this but that chair seems to be eating your food.
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Grigorii watches with interest as Vendel trims a tree with his fighting fans. "You are quite skilled with those fans of yours, if a tad... ah, enthusiastic. Just be sure to hit the tree next time."
That one is certainly fierce. I will keep an eye on him.
Grigorii reads the note the chair offered him, and tucks it into his belt pouch. At Tink's comment, he slaps the tentacle away from his plate. "Down! That's not for you."
After reading the brief mission note, Grigorii starts humming to himself, remembering the recent history of Kortos, "Centaurs may be the least aggressive of the Isle of Kortos's monstrous residents, but they are by no means a peaceful race. Many of the tribes believe they once owned the isle, and that the humans of Absalom stole it from them long ago.
"During a conflict with bounty hunters from Absalom, Nashota Bloodhoof, a warrior-princess of the Cangarit tribe, killed the son of Telannious Otheron, a wealthy scion of Absalom. Both sides accused each other of starting the conflict, and what began as a simple brush war soon escalated into a full-on blood feud. The campaign did not go well for the Cangarit tribe. Though they outmatched the hired thugs sent after them by House Otheron, they lacked the numbers and resources necessary to handle the human onslaught. Fortunately, the Pathfinder Society caught wind of the Cangarit-Otheron feud, and helped settle it, negotiating a truce and a promise of aid from Nashota.
"As a result of this feud, however, the Cangarit were pushed deeper into the Kortos Mounts and forced to contend not only with human attacks, but also with an increasing number of harpy and minotaur raids as the centaurs encroached on the monstrous races' territories. The mountains in the center of the Isle of Kortos are among the tallest, most jagged tors in the known world. The peaks of the Kortos Mounts are eternally clad in caps of ice and snow."
"Ow!"
The chair sprouts a mouth full of teeth, and talks back to Grigorii. "Oh, dammit. You made me break cover. You didn't have to slap so hard, Bub! Do me a favor... Don't mention this little slip-up to Zarta, okay?"
An eyestalk pops out of the chair arm and looks earnestly at the half-orc.
"Besides... Can you blame me for wanting to try one? I've been smelling them the whole time. The last time I got a full meal was when all those snake guys invaded Skyreach with their group of trained monsters! Boy, did they ever get a surprise when they tried to invade some of the treasure rooms! Good times..."
The chair's tentacles quiver with excitement at the memory.
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"Or maybe I didn't break cover after all..." The chair whispers to Grigorii.
His eye stalk studies Pai, blinking. "Yup, that's me! Maurice the... er... chair. You know how Zarta loves her animated furniture!"
You believe that he may be named Maurice, but he's certainly no chair....
Then he eyes the food on the sideboard. "Speaking of chair-ity, you guys gonna eat all that? Be a shame if it went to waste. Wouldn't say no to some bugs, either."
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Sense motive
Pai carefully looked at the chair, no quite sure to make of the situation. She glances at the rest of the team to see if anyone else is as surprised by Maurice as she. No one else seemed to worry, so she let it pass.
"Well, um you look quite comfy, Maurice," figuring that would be a fine compliment for some creature attempting to be a chair.
You take your leave of Maurice as he starts upending the various chafing dishes into his mouth. “Yeah, you guys go ahead. I’ll just clean up here for a bit...”
As you’re leaving Skyreach, a cute half-elf girl with wild and curly red hair chases after the group of you. “Magnus, wait!” She pauses, uncertainly. “You’re Magnus Landros, right? I’m Lyric*... I’ve seen you around the lodge, but we’ve never met. Anyway, Ollysta wanted to make sure that you got this personally!” She hands Magnus a sheet bearing the seal of the Silver Crusade. “Nice to meet you all! May your journey be full of beauty and song!”
I have a mission for you that might be of great interest to you and your family. Legend holds that the early Arodenites built a monastery somewhere in the lower reaches of the Kortos Mounts.
If such a temple exists, one can only imagine the wealth of information it contains regarding the early teachings of Aroden and the ways of his early followers. Recently uncovered evidence points to Mount Ganog as one possible location of the lost monastery. Should your mission take you up the mountain, keep an eye out for ruins, and send us word if you find anything interesting.
Blessings upon you,
Ollysta Zadrian
You gather your gear, then set off on the trek to find the Cangarit tribe of centaurs. The trip proceeds uneventfully, though the trek gets colder and snowier the further up you go. Using your wits and experience you find the Cangarit Camp. Your wayfinders gain you a reluctant entry as the centaur sentries lead you to Nashota, and what seems to be an informal war-council.
“Pathfinders with a letter from the Decemvirate?” The centaur princess tosses her mane of hair and takes the letter from you, reading rapidly. She's a handsome, muscular woman, and she paces as she reads the letter, hooves tapping impatiently as she moves around the campground. “What do they have for me now?”
“Three days?” Nashota exclaims, tossing the letter from the Decemvirate to the ground. “You’re giving me three days before I have to leave my people and take this ticket to sail halfway around the world to Goka?!” She waves the ticket under Magnus’s nose. “That’s quite the sense of humor you Pathfinders have! I tell you I need time to make this land safe for my tribe, and you give me three days? You think by paying off one enemy, you solve all our problems? Look around you," she gestures at the camp with its worn out tents. ". . . we make camp in unfamiliar lands, our strongest warriors lay dead, our wounded captured by harry us constantly. But lo! The hounds of Absalom retreat, we are saved!”
This rouses a hearty chorus of laughter among the centaurs, until Nashota raises a hand for silence. “A promise is a promise. I owe you much, and Nashota Bloodhoof pays her debts. Give me a month to train and arm a warband so I can clear out these damned mountains. Then I’ll sail off to fight in your silly little game for human prizes."
She crosses her arms, waiting for your response.
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Vendel looks pensive for a moment, "Anyone know when dis Ruby Phoenix tournament starts? I don't, but I'm tinking dat we are on a tight time schedule, if you know what I mean. And were Nashota to take a whole month, she'd miss da tournament entirely, dus completely negating da reason the Decemvirate would need her ta travel ta it, know what I mean?"
Then he slinks back behind the better spoken of the group, "Someone else speak sense please, know what I mean?"