Riceak detects magic and is overwhelmed by an item´s aura behind the two scoundrels. You have seen it before, it is the famous Sky Key that was displayed by the Society.
From the stairs behind you other Pathfinders rush out of the building, taking care of your enemies.
The floating tower grows quiet as Pathfinders incapacitate the last of the Aspis Consortium operatives. Down hundreds of feet below, for the first time in living memory, the Grand Lodge’s gates are closed beneath the arch that bears the Glyph of the Open Road. Just outside the gates stands a crowd of hundreds pressed up together to look up and watch the spectacle. Behind them, a force of district guards pushes toward the front, calling for someone to open the gates. From the wall, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin stares down and barks a firm No.
Not your problem, notes a deep voice. Marcos Farabellus and a dozen other Pathfinders approach while sheathing their weapons. The Master of Swords gives a reassuring smile and remarks, Just be thankful for once you’re not in charge down there. His smile fades as he surveys the damaged tower and picks up the Sky Key in both hands. It’s clear that the tower isn’t stable, and I don’t think tinkering with the Sky Key up here is going to make it conveniently set back down where it was. It’s past time we get out of here—before whatever magic is keeping us afloat decides to stop working.
One-by-one, Pathfinders emerge from Arliss Hall, with Marcos Farabellus emerging last. A trio of Pathfinders is waiting for him with a thick chest, and he lightly places the Sky Key within, closes the lid, and motions for the agents to carry the strange Numerian device back to Skyreach, where several dozen armed operatives quickly surround them to ensure no more ill befalls the Society’s prize. The Master of Swords strides toward the pedestal where the towering statue of Durvin Gest once stood but now lies shattered. Within minutes, hundreds of Pathfinders and their venture-captains solemnly gather in a wide circle around the monument, and the blood-spattered Master of Swords addresses alumni of this year’s Grand Convocation.
We were tested today, my friends, he confidently states as he hefts a sheathed sword in one hand, But we were not found wanting! Following a ragged cheer, his expression sobers. We also lost people today: good agents and one of the great men who taught them – the Master of Spells Aram Zey. But I tell you we saved something far greater. Not some ancient relics from a bygone era! No! We kept our wits! We kept our courage! We kept our faith in one another, and we stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, UNITED!
Another cheer rises up and after it subsides, the Master of Swords quietly observes, And the damned snakes in the Aspis Consortium still don’t have an answer for that. He clambers down the fallen stones and waves, Tend to your wounds. Get yourself a good meal and some rest. We have a lot of work to do this year. Dismissed! With that, he walks side-by-side with other venture-captains towards Skyreach.
Unable to achieve more than a handful of minor objectives, the Aspis Consortium and their dupes have turned tail and fled. Renovation of Skyreach’s towers has already begun, and the venture-captains already have sound theories on how to rescue Aram Zey. All signs point to this escapade having completely backfired for the Aspis Consortium thanks to the Pathfinders’ overwhelming victory!