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In the shadows, to avoid the sun, stand a small woman dressed in a simple black robe who highlights her silhouette. She had pale complexion but her charming smile and her simple green make-up make her immediately friendly.
When she spoke, it's always in a whisper.
During the travel she always had a book in her delicate hands.
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Doubtful is a dour, shabby-looking dwarf, dressed in a simple tunic and pants. None of his clothes seem to match, as if he couldn't decide what to wear, and just gave up trying.
Most of the voyage to Katapesh he has spent in a somewhat gloomy mood, sure that something horrible was going to happen at pretty much every point along the trip. From getting beset by pirates at the first sign of a sail, to sinking to the bottom of the ocean at the slightest breeze.
Even the sight of their destination does not seem to alleviate his concerns at all... merely shifting their focus to whatever new perceived trouble await them in the bazaars of the city ahead.
Already he is muttering about dehydration and press gangs.
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Your ship deposits you at a dock, where a low level Pathfinder in training is waiting to escort you to Farseer Tower. Silently, he weaves through the crowd of traders, sailors, and others before loading you into a carriage, which provides a pleasant relief from the brutal midday heat.
Through the window, you catch glimpses of the bustling city. Massive golems lumber through busy marketplaces. People of every race you've ever met, and a few you're pretty sure you haven't, are out on the streets hawking wares, perusing merchandise, or eating at sidewalk cafes.
After a little while, you are arrive at the tower, and are given a chance to eat, drink and refresh before your meeting. After a little while, you are called to a meeting room at the top of the tower.
Picture of Venture Captain Wulessa Yuul
It is a hot, breezeless evening, the curtains hang listlessly even with the windows thrown open. Unfortunately, the only thing hotter than the air is Venture-Captain Wulessa Yuul’s ire.
“Why must I share Katapesh with so-called equals who are incompetent?” She huffs between gritted teeth, pacing back and forth before calming herself.
“My pardon. Let me explain. Some months ago, the crypt of Zahari Mahiman—a scholar and sage from the Age of Enthronement—was rediscovered out in the wastes. I, personally, have long sought one artifact reputedly interred with him: the Monadistic Archive, a collection of scrolls from the Jistkan Imperium.
Unfortunately,” she grits her teeth, “It fell under the purview of the Kotargo Lodge to arrange an expedition. Venture-Captain Dulm took his time getting things underway, in spite of my own requests for urgency and offers of assistance. As a result, by the time his agents got there, the place had already been looted."
“Phlegos Dulm’s complacency aside, not all is bleak. The adventurers who looted the crypt were not scholars; they were simply looking to exploit the wonders of the past. The Monadistic Archive, in particular, was sold to Palhuna Murqual, a merchant here in Katapesh. I believe he bought the archive assuming it was merely a magical storage device, not an esoteric repository of lore indecipherable by him. He has shown interest in selling—at a profit, of course—and I need you to make the purchase. I have an Abadaran promissory note that should cover the price, but he is crafty and may bargain for more. I want the archive, whatever it costs...
I can’t pay more gold than I already have offered, but if you can find other means of appeasing Murqual, I encourage you to do so.”
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Doubtful has never been to Katapesh before, so knows little to nothing about the town or the locals. Not does he have any knowledge about the collection of scrolls.
He mostly just sits listening to Wulessa's briefing with an unhappy frown.
"There's more then one lodge here?" He asks hesitantly, puzzled by the Venture Captain's earlier comment.
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Clearly Jair had never been in Katapesh before, her pale skin was a clue, but her wonder about the place was another.
She listen carefully the Venture-Captain, and try to remember something about what she said on the Archive and the Jistkan Imperium.
If I may Captain, what could need this man, this "Palhuna Murqal".
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The irritation in her voice is apparent, as she responds, "There are four. Seemingly for no other reason than to drive me mad. Plus another in the hinterlands.
I run Farseer Tower, of course.
Venture-Captain Roderus runs the Winding Road Lodge. He's probably the best of the lot.
Aurora Steelbloom runs the Katapesh Lodge, and spends most of her time dealing with the Pactmasters.
Vav Pinderven is in charge of Sueda Lodge out in the countryside.
Then there's Phelgos Dulm at the Kotargo Lodge. Damn fool seems to spend more time in the marketplaces than doing his actual job."
Jair has never heard of the Archive, but does know that Palhuna Murqual is known as one of the preeminent vendors of magical and mundane devices created for the specific purpose of restraining and storing living (or unliving) beings.
Wulessa will add, "From what I'm told, he seems like the sort of man who can see the value Society agents could provide. I'm afraid I'm still too incensed over Dulm's incompetence to be very civil, so I'll ask you to act in my stead."
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Feighllaro nods at the explanations and then asks in a beautiful voice.
"Thank you Venture Captain Yuul for entrusting us with what must be a very important task for you. Just so I am doubly sure of our task, Murqual has the Monadistic Archive and wants to sell it. You will provide us the funds to buy it, however he is a skillful merchant and will likely extract a higher price. While there are no further funds available we are to offer our services towards the goal of acquiring this collection of scrolls?"
Feighllaro bows slightly after her question and patiently awaits a response.
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Exactly. I don't want you to do anything illegal or immoral, of course, but if you can do anything else to win him over...
Feighllaro has heard of the Monadistic Archive's reputation as a repository of knowledge from the Jistka Imperium, one of the first human nations to establish itself after Earthfall. This archive would likely be incredibly valuable to scholars of the Imperium.
To date, the Society's biggest source of information about the Imperium has been the ruined city of Rachikan, which has been explored by a number of teams over the years.
A tall, severe-looking Kellid woman, with a sword bigger than she is strapped across her back, speaks.
"If muscle is required, I can provide it."
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Dunkel sits, listening and occasionally reaching absent-mindedly towards the venture captain with an open hand, as if he were considering giving the chain that links her nose and ear the slightest of tugs.
Shaking himself back to his senses, he begins to process the task at hand and eagerly offers his help.
"Ach, ye've called th' right dwarf t'day, Miss Yuul. Ah'll be able t' bargain with this so-called-merchant like no other Pathfindin' dwarf."
Cracking his knuckles, Dunkel flexes some muscles and hoists a variety of picks and shovels.
"Ye've got Clan Diggerson here today, n' we dig no finer tunnels. Don't matter if Dulm 'ere needs a 4x7, a 6x9 or a 10x12 tunnel dug, we've got th' means to appease, as me granpappy always used t' say when he started our family business... n' we got no shortage o' Summer discounts n' rebates this season..."
Dunkel appears certain that the book will be easily obtained if tunnels need digging.
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Once your questions have been answered, the Venture-Captain retrieves a promissory note from the Bank of Abadar, valued at 10,000 gp, and sends you off to the Lower City.
The Lower City's Nightstalls form the largest marketplace on the planet. While most shops are fairly innocuous, you notice a significant number carry drugs, poisons, and other goods banned in most countries.
Still, finding Murqual’s shop is easy enough. A few discreet inquiries lead through the Lower City to a wooden door crowned by a plaque that reads
His establishment defies the stereotype for a shop in the infamous Nightstalls. It boasts a permanent location, instead of one that could be broken down and moved with ease. It is quite lavishly appointed, rather than being a shadowy, smoky hovel, and the air smells of vanilla and cardamom rather than incense. Inside, deep carpeting covers the floor. Chains and shackles, ranging in size from mist-thin links to cuffs that would hold a titan, hang along one wall. Another wall holds an array of mirrors—some reflecting the room and some showing the insides of a bare cell. Lanterns and cages hang from ceiling rafters, and glass cases hold etched gemstones and glass bottles. A central space is cleared of wares, instead sporting several plush seats arranged around a silver samovar.
An obese man swaddled in silks occupies a sofa before the samovar. Standing to his left is a slim, younger man holding a ledger. The fat man makes a series of complicated hand gestures to the standing man, who, after a moment, bows to the you all and speaks. “My esteemed master, Palhuna Murqual, bids you welcome. Please, be seated. Business should be conducted comfortably.”
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"Don't look like a book shop." Doubtful observes, as they come to Palhuna's shop. He eyes it suspiciously, obviously finding that fact significantly ominous.
Upon entering, and getting a first glance of the various fetters and chains, he frowns unhappily. "This can't be good." He mutters, to no one in particular.
He avoids looking at any of the mirrors entirely, almost comical in his attempts to avoid doing so.
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When met with silence, the fat man makes another long series of gestures. The thin man begins to pour cups of tea, and continues, "My master, in his boundless wisdom, suspects a group as...eclectic as yours must be Pathfinders. He has been expecting your arrival.
What would request of the gracious and hospitable Palhuna Murqual?
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Dunkel babbles along their trek to the Nightstalls about the promisary note and the value of ten thousand gold in "diggin' terms". The dwarf is not easily dissuaded, and you all come to understand just how long a tunnel can be dug by various sizes of dwarf diggin' teams, 100gp buying 100ft long of tunnel in a standard 4x8 configuration, or a double-wide tunnel in an 8x12 configuration of 100ft being just about 60% more in cost. In the diggin' offseason, discounts and rebates aplenty can be found, and the same gold could buy an additional 20ft-40ft per 100gp depending on the clan and any hardships they may be affected by at the time.
Dunkel quiets down as they enter the stall, always knowing it's best to observe before speaking in any negotiation, but his tongue is quickly loosed when the opportunity arises.
"Ah, greetins'.. ehhh, lad.. ye'd be correct in tha' we're all Pathfinders here t' talk t' ye illustrious master about a book ah'r captain, Miss Yuul be interested in."
Dunkel gives a nod to Feighllaro, trusting the bard to be carrying the note and to pick up on the conversation.
Amiri nods.
"Yes, we are Pathfinders, sent to enact a trade beneficial to both parties."
She, too, lapses into silence to allow the bard to work his magic.
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Jair smile at the mirrors and at the standing man then to the fat one.
Pleasure to meet you. I'm Jaïr. she said bowing
As my comrades said and as you so easily guessed we are indeed Pathinders.
Our Venture Captain, Wulessa Yuul, would be more than please that you accept her last bid for the Monadistic Archive you own.
As you can guess, she send us to help you in a way that you could accept more easily her offer.
I'm sure other people could offer you a little more than her, but nobody is as resourcefull as a team of Pathfinders.
Please reconsider her offer and let us help you in errands that need resourcefulness rather than just money.
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After another series of hand gestures, the standing man with the ledger continues.
"Resourceful and shrewd, it seems. For indeed, the great Palhuna Murqual was unlikely to favor your bid, without favors in return."
He claps his hands excitedly and announces, “Done! Your Venture-Captain’s note for 10,000 gold, plus services rendered by yourselves.”
The silent, obese man nods sagely.
"Now, let us get down to details. My master has," he pauses for a moment, refilling any teacups that are now dry, "three tasks for you to complete before the end of the night." He begins to count off tasks on his fingers. “There is some sensitive merchandise being delivered by...problematic dealers. Another recent acquisition has some unpleasant protective magic that he needs dealt with. Finally, you can be his agents to make a purchase from another acquaintance.”
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As Palhuna begins to enumerate his tasks, Dunkel leans forward eagerly, ready to explain how he and his clan are ready for just the diggin' job that is about to be requested.
He sighs when there is mention of dealers, but then waits to see if diggin' is required to reach them.
He sighs when protective magic is discussed, but then cheers up when he realizes that perhaps they can dig under whatever wards there may be.
He sighs when another purchase is discussed, but then realizes that perhaps the purchase is somewhere in the Darklands that may require diggin' to reach quickly.
"Ahl'right, so what can ye tell us about th' three jobs? Perchance any require a complex system of diggin' tunnels? Ah can promise ye a good deal on steel reinforce beams, we just dun use wood rafta's like th' gnome clans, y'see we dwarves ain't Sylvan..."
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With a flourish Feighllaro responds to the nod with a graceful bow, but waits patiently until others have spoken before speaking up, waiting for the perfect opportunity.
"Yes, the details of these jobs... A good contract always aligns ones interests with each others. Now the 10,000gp is already a tidy sum. Of course we understand that your master deserves an even greater profit, but 3 tasks from the Pathfinder Society, on such a short schedule is quite a boon indeed. Perhaps a more reasonable fee would be either 2 of the tasks of our choice, or 1 of yours.
Perhaps I am overvaluing our humble services though. Please, describe these tasks in what detail you have."
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All speech is preceded by more of the sign language from Palhuna.
"Palhuna Murqual is as generous as an oasis. Two tasks will be sufficient. Patient he is not, however. These tasks should be completed tonight, lest a superior offer come along.
I am sure you can find what you need. The markets of Katapesh never close. My master will even allow you to purchase from his own stores, at a substantial discount for such good friends."
He takes a long sip of tea, and continues.
"There are some special goods being shipped in from the savanna tonight. We are short on staff to take the delivery, and must not be seen meeting with the deliverers. They’re gnolls. It’s a social status issue; I’m sure you understand.”
Walking over to one of the walls, the thin man retrieves an intricately carved wooden mask.
"This mask iss upposedly able to bind souls. Unfortunately, it already has something bound to it. Examination indicates that ‘something’ is a guardian. You should dispose of the guardian. Somewhere away from the shop, of course. Maybe not on the streets, either—we don’t want any passerby witnesses or victims. There’s a flat-roofed warehouse nearby. It should suffice.
Finally, An acquaintance owns a mirror Palhuna Murqual would like. She isn’t willing to deal in gold for it, and her desired coin is not one he is quite willing to pay. You should obtain the mirror”
At Doubtful's request, Palhuna snaps his fingers, and two slaves appear from behind a beaded curtain, carrying a red lacquered chest covered in text. They open it, revealing a large number of scrolls.
Amiri glances at the man suspiciously.
"If she doesn't want gold, what, precisely, is her 'desired coin'?"
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Prefaced by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, a young woman in loose and light Garundi-style robes bursts into the room. Her straw-blonde hair is tied back in a practical ponytail, and her skin is the kind of pale that burns in the sun. Her high cheekbones and sharp features mark her Azlanti heritage strongly, perhaps more strongly than any of her associates on this mission have seen outside of ancient statues.
"Are...*huff*...you...*huff*...the...*huff*...other...*huff*...Pathfinders? "
She leans on the wall, the sweat on her hand causing her hand to begin to slide down.
Taking the sleeve of her robes, she starts patting her sweat-sheened face, her breath slowly returning to normal.
"I am so very sorry! I was told to report to the lodge, and I thought I knew where it was...*huff*...so I stopped to read for awhile, except when I got there, they said I was at the wrong one...*huff*...and I ran to all the other ones, and they kept saying...*huff*...I was still at the wrong one, until I found the right one." Now that she is able to speak more clearly, only being occasionally interrupted by heavy breathing, the sing-songy cheerfulness of her Garundi accent becomes apparent.
She straightens herself out, taking one last deep breath, followed by a long, calming exhale.
"My name is Imrana Reza. I am a personal servant to the Great Wizard Nex, and I am here on his wishes. How may I be of assistance?" Something about her choice of words and the tone of her voice makes it sound as though she talked to the legendary wizard--who disappeared 4139 years ago--yesterday.
Her stomach growls, evoking an awkward smile from the young woman.
"And I am apparently very hungry."
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The thin man rings a bell, and another slave appears, presenting a tray of dates before Imrana, and, after another round of gestures from Palhuna, continues. “Madame Jelaris is an alchemist trying to develop an equivalent of the sun orchid elixir. Whether or not that's actually possible, she has a means to alchemically extract vitality. Essentially, she can make one older. She claims the ‘years’ of life extracted are invaluable in her research. And she requires twenty years before relinquishing the mirror."
The offer does seem to be honest, and this does seem to be what you're looking for. It's hard to say for sure without knowing Jistkan.
As the fat man gestures this time, you notice him recycle some gestures from before, even though the thin man is clearly talking about something different. You get the feeling these gestures aren't actually sign language.
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Dunkel's eye bulge wide beyond his beard at the topic of extracting years from a "donor".
"Twenty years! Ah've still got me best diggin' years ahead! Perhaps if ah was me granpappy's age, ah wouldn't mind givin' up those years!"
Dunkel eyes Pahluna and his servants suspiciously, as if such a request would be unheard of.
"Ahl'right... we got our choice of two o' those tasks, then?"
Dunkel clears his throat.
"Ye all know which two ah'd pick. Go pick up th' goods from th' pup-heads, and then go deal wit' th' guardian o' this mask 'ere."
Dunkel hoists his axe ever slightly as to indicate how he'd deal with said guardian.
"Best we not be wastin' time then, right lads and ladies? Can ye give us precise directions to th' warehouse?"
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"Twenty years divided among you lot? That’s little enough. After all, how many of you are likely to live to old age anyway?
If it would make you feel better, here's a little secret: Madame Jelaris is an inveterate gambler. If you wager the years, you might walk away paying nothing! Or paying twice as much. If you do that, a word of advice: don’t cheat. Or at least don’t get caught cheating.”
Directions will be provided to the warehouse.
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Imrana takes to the dates, absent-mindedly popping them into her mouth as she scans the room, seemingly paying little attention to the current conversation.
"Extracting years? I have heard of a six-fingered Chelaxian count that devised a device with a similar ability to extract vitality in years, though he did not have the means to store it. Apparently, extracting fifty at once leaves someone in a 'mostly-dead' coma-like state."
Imrana begins chewing another date, turning her head in various directions as she gazes at a mirror, as though testing it.
"Has this Madame Jelaris made preparations to avoid any such side-effects?"
She stands up, carrying the tray of dates. She pops in another one as she starts investigating the gems in glass cages.
"I wonder how it interacts with people who do not have the same relative and physical ages? That might be dangerous. I would provide an interesting test case."
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Responding to Jair and Imrana, the servant continues, "Visiting Madame Jelaris is likely the best way to answer those questions. Palhuna Murqual is a merchant without equal, a patron of the arts, and a learned scholar. The minutiae of this little game are of no concern to him."
The mask appears to be from Thuvia. Based on its markings and sinister appearance, you suspect it originated with the Usij, followers of Ahriman, Lord of Divs.
But it sounds like most people want to skip that one? Any preferences on where to start?
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Divs are neutral evil outsiders, formed from the spirits of corrupted genies. They seek to despoil mortal creation. Though there are many types of div, they are generally immune to fire and poison, resistant to acid and electricity, and susceptible to damage from good and/or cold iron weapons. Spell resistance is common, and they generally have spell like abilities.