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Word reached you that the Society finally wants to test the Sky Key artifact and is looking for agents to do a big-scale-testing of the device. You decided to follow the summoning.
The Society arranges its gathering in a large, open field 5 miles north of Absalom. Around you you see many Pathfinders gathering in small groups while they are waiting for Kreighton Shaine to start his speech.
"Oh, oh, look at all the pathfinders here sir! I wonder who we are grouped with today?"
Through the crowd walk what looks to be a demon in a loose fitting dress and a leather cloak. Carrying a spear of ebony wood, it seems that she's on continuous watch, all the while, talking over her back to her backpack.
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A squeaky voice comes from the "backpack" before dark, bony hands come out the top to grab the handles attached to the "bag".
"Please, could you stop gawking at the groups, especially the other spell casters, and find our group? You're going to make us late, and you know what happens if we're late. I get moody, and when I get moody, you don't get playtime."
Adjusting himself, Qualif sits on the seat of his special saddle, head barely higher than his eidolon, and glances around for his group.
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A tall man in polished plate armor with a huge sword on his back gestured wide, trying to indicate the general size and shape of the bird in question - apparently a very large one. His breastplate bore the clear symbol of a greatsword, likely of religious significance. His hair was unkept and he spoke as if he'd lost some hearing at some point. He seemed not to notice being approached by an apparent demon from one side.
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Arriving to the side of the man telling his story, the tall woman gasps loudly after hearing out the size of the birds. Her tail, swinging side to side for a moment as she listened to the tale while trying to get close.
"That sounds like it was fun!" the eidolon exclaimed as shearly got closer. "Umm, do you know where my group is? I was given this note telling where to meet up with them," explaining her intrusion as she hands the storyteller her letter.
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Raul takes the letter and looks at it, confusion and struggle written across his visage. He mumbles the words out loud, slowly, and stammers on a few of them. Eventually he finishes and looks up at the demon-girl. he pauses to gesture to the other Pathfinders around him,
Raul smiles, hooking a thumb in his belt. He looks around for a moment, apparently unaware of his awkwardness. Then he looks back to the demoness. He pauses, forgetting the name of the anticipated speaker.
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Sighing heavily, the small wayang climbs out of his little backpack, and hops to the ground. Brushing himself off, and rearranging his dark purple robes, he reaches with an outstretched hand. "Actually, I, erm, we live near the Emerald Spire in the River Kingdoms. As for her contract, my assistant is me eidolon, rather than a devil, though at times I wish she were. Anywhoo, my name is Qualif, barrister and summoner at your service."
His hand, as he offers it seems to be covered in scars and tattoos, with one scar baring the symbol of Asmodeus.
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The tall armoured knight turns at the mention of the towering structure in the wilderness. He is powerfully built, his armour is the coloured purple and gold, and his large steel shield has the symbol of a mailed gauntlet, wrapped in briars, embossed on the front. He bows to the small creature,
"Master Qualif, I have travelled with your folk before, and found them to be excellent company. Do you mind if I join you for whatever spectacle is planned?"
Straightening up, the tall man, his skin the colour of burnished steel, continues, "I am Kentel Manseur, but please call me Kent. I spent much of my early time with the Pathfinders exploring the Spire, and am only recently returned to Absalom. Know you well the Spire?"
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Chuckling slightly at the warpriest, Qualif nods at the mention of the spire. "It would be a pleasure to have another who has explored the spire in our team. I can say, that it was quite interesting, but I had to oversee my estate while the group I had explored it with went deeper. Would have been interesting to say at the least going with them."
Looking about, the wayang opens his bag and calls to Verna'th, "Hey, we need to put your dress in here so it doesn't get ruined again. Or do you not mind spending some of your pay every time we adventure?"
"But I want to look pretty! I'll spend my money on a new dress if it gets ruined. You, sir, just like looking at me without it," Verna'th chides back with a wink towards her master before turning back to the man telling stories. "More, tell us more stories! Pleeeeeeeease?"
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Raul looks obviously disturbed at the interactions of the two strange ones, but shakes it off and puts a hand on the newcomer's shoulder. The dull metal of the spiked gauntlet rings softly as it makes contact with shoulder plate. The big cleric pauses and looks down, a bit sullen.
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The sun beats down across this muddy plain, a scant five miles from the walls of Absalom. Fellow Pathfinders gather on all sides, including well-traveled field agents and more permanent staff from the Grand Lodge itself. In the center of the field stands a wooden platform, raised some ten feet off the ground. The excited chatter drowns out the buzz of summer insects as the gathered adventurers speculate on what’s to come.
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"The field has been marked out with a series of circles, which suggest a conjuration ritual, but there are enough variations that even this seems unlikely. I haven't seen anything like this."
She pauses.
"This is an unusual place. Here, The Linnorm King clashed with the Thuvian warlord Attagesha hundreds of years ago as both attempted to besiege the city at the same time but refused to share the glory with each. They crippled each other’s forces and were forced to retreat without ever attacking Absalom. I guess that is something we should learn about."
She shrugs and smiles.
"Or so I have heard." she blushes.
Verna'th looks towards the group for a moment before her eyes light up. "So, umm, I heard that some rumors have been going around the Grand Lodge the past several weeks, keeping many Society scholars and casters busy and away from the public eye. This follows a recent conflict at the Grand Lodge that the Society kept from spilling into the rest of the city. Supposedly the Society has reassembled the Sky Key, a dwarven relic it started piecing back together a year ago. The Society has been “secretly” buying up large quantities of sky metal whenever it appears in the market. The Pathfinders have also been recruiting dozens of arcane spellcasters, especially evokers. The Grand Lodge has been importing all kinds of experts on Dwarven artifice, which seems reasonable—but also experts on Numerian science, conjurers, mathematicians, and even historians who specialize in Absalom’s earliest history. Or at least that's what I heard...." Giggling slightly, she tightens the harness on her "backpack" and spreads her wings to make sure they had full movement.
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Mylvwara pipes up enthusiastically, "Yes, definitely no kind of conventional magic. Perhaps they're linked to the Azlanti discoveries in the area?
Looking round, she sees little recognition on her peers faces and her volume diminishes "...ancient foundations and pottery...from the recent digs here... with society archaeologists?"
"Maybe, I have something in here about it...", the elf scribe scrabbles ineffectually at a pile of books deep within her haversack.
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Kent winces as the armoured priest loudly expresses his opinion. He subtly steps away and engages the two elves in conversation.
"My ladies, have either of you ever ventured into the Emerald Spire?"
He listens to their answers, then asks what they have done as Pathfinders, whilst politely trying to avoid getting into a conversation with the Gorumite.
"Thank Arqueros I am not stuck 50' underground with this fellow!", he thinks, "But I imagine he his capable in a fight - I'm glad I have 'Silence' prepared in case we are stuck here all afternoon"
Observers can see a slight smile on the tall angelkin's face, as he envisages the scene if the priest was unable to talk.
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"No, m'lord, I have never been to such place. I have been to Bloodcove and the Azlant Ridge, in the Mwangi Expanse. To the mammoth lands, where the wind cuts your skin and the cold ices your very soul. I am just back from the Worldwound, where we joined forces with Hellknights to defeat a greater evil."
She pauses and realizes she has been talking for almost one minute. Looks at the knight, blushes, plays with her hair.
"But I guess your deeds are far more interesting…"
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"Please, I am no lord",
He removes a mailed gauntlet and offers his hand, "I am Kentel Manseur, warrior priests of Arqueros and Silver Crusader in training. It would please me if you would call me Kent. I'm afraid my deeds are few in number. I spent much of my time with the Society in the Spire's dungeons, but I am too recently returned from Mendev helping to resolve a problem for a fellow Pathfinder. I have visited neither the jungle lands of the south, nor the frozen wastes of the north, so nothing interesting to tell I'm afraid."
He smiles, "Although, the last time I was in Absalom, gathered with the Pathfinders, the Grand Lodge was invaded by goblins and dragon; hopefully today will be a little more civilised!"
He offers his hand to Mylvwara and the others, including Raul, as it would be churlish to avoid the Gorumite.
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The blond halfling sits easy on the saddle of his pony as it casually trots up to the party. He smiles at everyone with an easy, friendly demeanor, but his eyes imply an underlying seriousness and breadth of experience. "I can't tell you how excited I am to be here as we use the sky key; I helped to find it!" A small thrush on his shoulder chirps at the halfling's excited tone, and he glances at it with a smile. A rat crawls out of his jacket, and as he absentmindedly pets it, another rat pops up behind his neck. He stays mounted on his pony (its name is Ash, if you should ask), despite the wolf standing beside them that is just as big as the pony. Sitting on its haunches behind them sits a guard dog.
Darkpaw yawns and sniffs the air.
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Kreighton Shaine, the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Scrolls and de facto Master of Spells in the wake of Aram Zey’s untimely assassination, steps forward. A broad smile graces his youthful, elven features, and his golden hair shines in the sunlight.
"Welcome, my countless eager scholars! Today we are about to witness a wondrous and strange new chapter in the Pathfinder Society’s history. But first, please everyone take a moment of silence to remember our lost Master of Spells and my close friend, Aram Zey. While many of you found his manner abrasive, he fully believed in the Society’s goals of exploration and cooperation, and I know his loss will be deeply felt by us all." After a moment, Kreighton Shaine continues.
"You may have heard rumors about the Sky Key, an artifact coveted by the dwarves of Jormurdun. A few of you even managed to recover pieces of it. But—and this is the important part—the Sky Key is no dwarven relic. The dwarves found this artifact in one of Numeria’s many wrecks and struggled to master its abilities just as we have spent the past several months doing. But now… now we have this assembled... wonder."
The Master of Scrolls pulls back a canvas tarp, revealing… a bed of withered roses.
"The Key itself is secure in a small chamber we’ve constructed below this field, and it is connected to the surface here by a series of adamantine rods and mithral cables." He taps a dark metal shaft beside him. "This formerly-award-winning bed of roses, however, we have left sitting here for two weeks without sun or water."
His hands weave an arcane pattern, and arcs of lightning leap from his fingertips to the rod. A chest-shaking hum rises from somewhere below, and a bubble of green light enfolds the roses, revealing a flower bed of vibrant reds, purples, and yellows where only withered brown stood moments before.
"This is the power of the Sky Key: It creates a window into the past. No longer will the Society have to pick at the precious few scraps history leaves behind. Instead we can watch the greatest moments of Golarion’s history unfold before our eyes! We can watch the Eventongue Rebellion shatter Taldor into a dozen smaller states. We can witness Irrisen before the coming of Baba Yaga, or study the godcallers of Sarkoris before the Worldwound. We can witness the Starstone plunge Golarion into an age of endless night, or watch Aroden himself pull Kortos from the sea in its wake. Anything we want, we can study. And all it requires is lightning!"
"Unfortunately, we must content ourselves with study. While our modern forms can enter these temporal bubbles unaffected—" he reaches a hand into the shimmering energy and plucks a rose. Pulling it from the iridescent field, the flower ages and crumbles into dust, "— anything removed collapses under the weight of time itself. We can witness anything we like, but any treasures of history, or great figures, belong to their own age, beyond our reach."
"It takes the magic of one accomplished wizard to reach back thirteen days. How far, then, do you imagine twenty will reach? A hundred?" Several other teams across the field begin assembling adamantine rods. "Our math says: The Age of Serpents, some tens of thousand years before the present. And that is where all of you come in. If this works—and it will, mind you—then we estimate we’ll have four to five hours to see what Kortos looked like at the dawn of the Azlanti Empire, when our earliest ancestors still warred with the serpentfolk empire of old. We need all the eyes and ears the Society can muster to take notes and make observations. Oh, and keep those eyes and ears from getting killed. Anything in the bubble can’t get out, but these roses... they still have thorns."
He nods, and Pathfinders across the field begin casting spells, directing arcs of lightning into the waiting sky metal rods. Something deep below the earth thrums, and across the field a massive bubble takes shape, expanding to reveal a cube of earth and stone hundreds of feet to a side, as if sliced from the land and laid out in celebration. Low, stone buildings peek over from the very top, while networks of caves riddle the lowest level. Ophidian faces peer out, then retreat back into the darkness.
"It seems the ground level was a bit higher before the Starstone drove it into the sea," Shaine observes. "Regardless. We have three-hundred and seven minutes remaining. Let’s make the most of it!"
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Kent looks around in wonder and disbelief.
"By Arqueros's holy spear, what have they done now!?! This will not go smoothly I fear."
He looks quickly round those he has just conversed with, whilst fitting his shield and drawing his sword. "Best to be ready. Shall we travel together my just-met companions? I can no more climb that cliff, than I could fly to the top. Thus, are you content to enter via the tunnels?'
"And if we are to take notes, do any of you have paper and stylus with you? If not, perhaps we can get some from these others". He looks around a second time, a little further off this time, to see if he can get hold of something to take notes with and on.
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"While flight is my assistant's specialty, we'll go down in the tunnels for you Kent," Qualif said while harnessing himself to the saddle. While watching the others, the wayang casts barkskin on his eidolon before pulling out a wand of make armor, and also uses it on the eidolon.
"There we go, let's get you a bit sturdier, just in case there are any conflicts. Just remember to tell me if you're hurt this time. I don't want things gnawing on me, so I'll need to be ready to save you and bring others, okay?" he told Verna'th before looking towards tell others. "Now, I can help with some of my spells, but I'm afraid that my form of healing would not be preferred on some of you folk, as it is a blessing from Asmodeus. Those who do need it though, I am willing to provide."
Finishing his last statement, Qualif makes sure his seating is proper before returning his Wand of Mage Armor to its wrist sheathe.
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"It would be a waste, I think, to summon an ally simply to fly us aloft."
Mylvwara uses her own wand of mage armour to enhance her protections.
"The tunnels then; I will make a record."
She produces notebook and materials from within her pack.
Excited, the willowy elf steps forward, then pauses and glances back at the sturdier adventurers, clearly expecting someone else to lead the way.
Visibly upset, she looks at Raul with her best puppy dog eyes, "But, what if we find something neat and shiny, like a mirror or brush?" before any answers come forth, there is a slight tap and yelp from Verna'th. "Fine, I'll be in front. Just hope there aren't many traps in the way."
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The stink of animal scat and rotting meat fills this massive cavern. Shelves, passageways, and fixtures have been carved into the wall by careful hands, each stylized to resemble a serpent’s head or body.
The lowest level of the temple complex consists of sprawling networks of caverns and artificial tunnels used as animal pens, stables, cave gardens, and training facilities for Ydersius’ holy animals, guards beasts, and draft dinosaurs.
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Peribras leaves Ash with the guard dog, opting instead to mount Darkpaw. "Lead the way." He features forward.
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Seeing that one of his companions already has something to take notes, he waves off the merchant, and heads into the tunnels. He takes the lead alongside the winged outsider and her 'master'.
Entering the tunnels, the knight sees something carved by hand, rather than nature. He moves towards that area, looking around. His long iron sword is gripped tightly in his hand...
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Kentel and Peribras move on, through an opening in the wall, into a bigger chamber. They spot the beast which left the scat and meat, together with its handler. They stare at you with dark reptile eyes and finally attack.
Q'Lystra
Verna'th
Qualif
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Serpentfolk
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Peribras
Raul
Darkpaw
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Dinosaur
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Mylvwara
Kentel
"Scary slimy man! I'll take care of him master!"
Spreading her wings, the woman grabs her spear and flies towards the Serpentfolk with surprising speed!
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While Q'Lystra lobs an orb of acid at the serpantfolk creature Verna'th flies closer, bringing Qualif with her. The eidolon's longspear hits the humanoid and Qualif takes his defensive positon in the saddle.
Seeing the eidolon coming closer the scaled humanoid takes a step back and mumbles a few words. A moment later additional serpentfolk creatures appear.
Mirror Image
Q'Lystra
Verna'th
Qualif
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Serpentfolk -22HP (+3 images)
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Peribras
Raul
Darkpaw
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Dinosaur
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Mylvwara
Kentel