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The fourth and final day of training has come to a close at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, heralding the end of this year's Torchbearing. Pathfinders the world over attend this annual symposium to share their knowledge, teach each other new skills, and reinforce their connections across the Inner Sea and beyond. To celebrate the end of festivities, the lodge has hosted a grand banquet in the visiting agents' honor. A refreshing winter breeze blows through an open window, flickering torches and sending papers scattering. The smell of freshly baked desserts fills the air while initiates clear away the remnants of the first course.
During the annual Torchbearing, the Three Masters, along with other notable Pathfinders, taught a variety of seminars and panel discussions, from Golarion’s history to spellcasting techniques, and ran obstacle courses and a triathlon. Rumor has it, Janira Gavix offered an unauthorized but popular filking class for aspiring bards and other social misfits under 30--inches, not years. You also heard some salacious gossip about an exclusive, late-night VIP experience Zarta Dralneen arranged for some her favorites. According to one hungover Pathfinder who claimed to have been there, a disgruntled Drandle Dreng was turned away at the door.
Speaking of the imp, ever the social butterfly and self-appointed mentor-to-the-masses, the halfling bard Janira Gavix approaches your small group. “Hi, friends. It’s been awhile since last we met. Have you enjoyed the Torchbearing? I volunteered to organize all the classes again this year. Kreighton Shaine always said I should have been a teacher. Did you learn anything useful?”
Janira looks over her shoulder as she catches sight of another group of Pathfinders refilling their tankards at the grog bowl. “Oh, those are some more students of mine!” She bounces on her toes as she waves at the group and they wave back. “Excuse me? I’ll need to check in with them too!” Pleased that you appreciated her pedagogical efforts, she excuses herself with a smile and moves on.
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Rhiannon smiles at the halfling bard. The half-elf paladin of Ragathiel possesses hair that is as dark as midnight and pale skin, giving her an almost ethereal beauty. "Greetings, Janira. It had indeed been too long. May I say you look lovely by the way, and I am as always amazed by your ability to bring order from chaos with everything that goes on during these days of learning. The Planar Studies seminar was particularly useful to me, as I have been striving to learn more on that subject of late. My recent experiences with the Shadow plane has given me much to ponder, and I am of the belief that one must learn all they can of the enemy, should the evil denizens of that plane cross my path again. Or those of any of the Lower Planes, for that matter."
The paladin bows as Janira excuses herself and takes a look around.
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Vrothum gives a proper bow towards Janira, but only knows of her exploits, he waits politely as she greets and talks with them, and turns to greet his new acquaintance.
Vrothum is a dark skinned Tiefling, bluish-black in color, with Red eyes. He's dressed in a courtier's out fit, Red Long-sleeve shirt trimmed in gold, white pants with a black belt and gold buckle and black boots with gold trim. He's skin is oddly scaly with a metallic brown hue to it, and his smile shows a pair of sharp fangs.Greetings milady...Vrothum nods and extends a hand as a greeting....My name is Vrothum, this is how your kin say hello? Was that lady Janira? I'm afraid I've only heard tales of her, many people seem quite found of her. Vrothum attempts to make pleasantries but is slightly embarrassed that his fangs show, and is used to scaring people off with his beastly appearance.
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Rhiannon turns to face the voice, and despite herself is startled at the appearance of a tiefling when she had only moments ago been speaking of crossing paths with those of the Lower Planes. She cautiously reaches forth a hand to shake the one proffered. After a moment's concentration while she speaks, the paladin gradually relaxes, having detected no aura of evil from this particular creature. "Greetings, Vrothum. Indeed, Janira is a lovely woman, and very worth meeting if you are able to find her when she has a free moment. I am Rhiannon Moonwing." Suddenly, she smiles and her face is nearly radiant with a beauty that reaches from her flesh to her very spirit. "Forgive me my hesitation and poor manners in properly greeting a stranger. I must admit that I'd never thought to meet one of your kind without drawing my sword at the same moment. I pray you take no offense to my words, but I am certain that you are a most singular individual." The paladin is dressed in finery that falls somewhere between modest and revealing, amplifying her beauty in a subtle but effective manner. Her dress is long and is of deep crimson with gold trim and a holy symbol of Ragathiel rests upon her bosom - if the tiefling recognizes it as such.
:)
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In rides... a large man, riding a tortoise?! The Tortiose lazily walks forward, the large man riding it in a special saddle that has him in almost a kneeling position, making him look almost like he is in prayer as he rides forward. The Tortise seems strangely small for the position of carrying such a large man, but seems undeterred by the weight. The tall mans face seems to glow in excitement, and as he reaches forward and jubilantly clasps hands it feels like it is made of gravel. He steps off the Tortise who gives him a look of annoyance, before tilting it's head to a feed bag riding low on it's shell and picking at some food in it.
You have to wonder if he has a "Volume down" switch.
Standing tall, the big man is dressed in his best, a fine suit that stretches almost everywhere, a fluffy kerchief that looks like it belongs on a dainty nobleman puffing out from under his chin. It strikes you that, where it not for his boisterous attitude and manner, he would be quite charming looking with a rugged square jaw and kind eyes... on a man half that size. On his breast is stitched a fine insignia of a turtle with crossed lances in front of it.
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Vrothum is visibly taken back by the sincerity of his new acquaintance’s apology, he thinks for a bit, wondering if she’s truly means it. You are right to be leary of me, I know how I look, just know, when battle breaks out you’ll be glad I’m on your side.Vrothum is then startled by the excitedness of his even newer companion, he looks at the turtle, then back at the strange looking man, shrugs his shoulders and says:Hail friend! I am Vrothum, that’s some entrance you made...
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Oh it is wonderful to see you again Tetsudo! I see that Roshi has grown to be nice and strong in the time since we last met. Have the Turtle - err - tortoise knights had any fine adventures recently? Oh and whose class did you attend?
She will also turn to Vrothum and admire his courage to speak with her. I am afraid I have not heard of your exploits friend...but perhaps that can all change starting today - which symposium did you attend? Perhaps Marcos Farabelluses workshop on yelling?
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The large man frowns slightly.
You had it right the first time... He says, subdued a little.
His Tortoise snorts at his owner who gives him a glare.
He shakes his head and smiles, returning to his bombastic self.
You're pretty sure that tortoise is not intelligent enough to answer. You're also pretty sure it just rolled its eyes. Turning to his newfound demonic looking friend, he claps him on the back with enough force to send lesser men sprawling.
He let's out a deep belly laugh.
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You learn all of the information whose DC is equal to or less than the result of your Diplomacy (gather information) or Knowledge (local) check.
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Rhiannon nods at Vrothum's words. "I know of what you speak, Vrothum. Truly. I am a paladin of Ragathiel, He who turned away from the Princes of Hell including his own father, Dispater himself, to fight with the empyreal lords against the forces of evil. I know that choice is what defines a person. Any person. I am glad to call you ally."
When the large man on the tortoise makes his grand entrance, the paladin is torn between amusement and awe. She has seen odd steeds before, but never... this. "Well met, Testudo. I am Rhiannon. That is indeed a most noble steed you ride upon. I have never seen its like." She calls out, though her own strong voice is nearly drowned out by that of the self-proclaimed Turtle Knight.
As the party goes on, Rhiannon mingles with others ( ) and those she speaks with appear to treat the paladin as a trusted confidant no matter where she goes or with whom she speaks - from the lowliest servant to the haughtiest nobleman. Indeed, the paladin learns much during the next couple of hours.
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Vrothum continues to tried his very best to mingle, and not startle people, putting on his best smile even taking note of the others and how they interact. However, he mostly gets the typical retort and startled looks. One day these people will see me for what I’ve done, not how I look. Says Vrothum under his breath.
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*Hic*
The dwarf standing before you is likely amongst the scruffiest if not the scruffiest looking scoundrel you'd likely to meet. Inebriated and judging by the really large Tankard he's holding, he's already into the swing of things as dicated by his Patron's holy symbol, Cayden Cailean, dangling in the open around his neck. Fine clothes that definitely has seen better days, the dwarf has books stuffed in his backpacks, hanging tankards.
Why would anyone need 5 tankards? A badly dented rapier looking more like a fish hook then anything else strapped to his back.
"yosh.." he goes. Looking at Testudo bearily, he blinks at the sight of the tortise, grins and gives a thumbs up.
"Yesh a nice horise yar got dere..... Wide strong back." *hic*
"So thish little shingbang is about getting all the bestest pathfinders to their own shingding and get their own special wayfinders from the Head honchos right?"
Finally turning to Janira after puring yet another generous helping of drinks into his own overly large tankard. He grins, showing off a surprisingly full set of strong white teeth.
"Janira! Yar gotten taller!"
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Moving up next to Janira, Rhiannon is holding a glass of wine as she regards the dwarf with a raised eyebrow, her mouth quirked in amusement. "Master dwarf, this celebration is about sharing knowledge, establishing connections and meeting old friends not seen in a long time. Though the stories told of members being plucked from the crowd and brought before the Decemvirate for reasons unknown are certainly intriguing, we should not lose track of why we are here in the pursuit of potential reward."
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Just as Janira is about to launch into a story all about her new 1/4 of an inch the bell rings and she interrupts herself.
Oh I am dreadfully sorry but it is time to begin serving dinner!
Janira runs off and the group is treated to a huge feast - though in the form of something like an incredibly large family style feast with large bowls and plates of all sorts of dishes.
They have even taken into account the dietary restrictions of druids and Irorians who are seeking to avoid the consumption of meat.
There is also several large bowls of grog every few people on the table as your group is seated together at the end of one such table.
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Compared to Testudo, the paladin eats daintily - though truthfully Rhiannon is not quite as delicate as many of the other women of noble stature. When the elven wizard approaches, she smiles at her half-kinsman and beckons him to sit while she swallows her food. "Please, join us Aramil. I am Rhiannon, paladin of Ragathiel."
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"Greetings! If We're not friends then, we're friends now!" is all Heorn would or can say as he partakes freely of the fod and drink. Offering toasts or making small talk, the dwarf surprisngly is a an excellent display of table manners despite his appearance and one would notice that he's skillfully trading and coaxing information from his talking mates ever so subtly as he moves and around the dining hall.
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Greetngs Aramil, I am Vrothum, pleasure to meet you.Vrothum says as he tries his best to use the tools provided to him, admittedly though he’s never really used most of them. He periodically glances at Heorn and Rhiahannon to see how the use them. The food is great, admittedly I’ve been on the road so often this is the first I’ve had real food in quite sometime.
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If Rhiannon catches Vrotham's glance, she smiles at the tiefling and demonstrates the use of utensils without trying to attract the attention of others. When Vrotham answers Aramil, she nods enthusiastically. "I agree, this is very good food. Janira has once again outdone herself. I would pass on my compliments, but I've not seen her since she hurried off to personally attend to the service of this fine feast. Here, you must try some of these potatoes." The paladin reaches out to grab one of the community bowls, holding it out for the wizard to serve himself.
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The front doors of Skyreach burst open with a loud crack. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin strides to the edge of the platform, with a slender elf dressed in practical but expensive clothing trailing meekly behind. The red-faced venture-captain addresses the crowd in a booming voice.
“Pathfinders, I regret interrupting the festivities, but we have something of a situation. Approximately twenty minutes ago, unknown forces invaded the Blakros Museum. Fortunately for everyone involved, the Torchbearing is about cooperation and helping our colleagues, so let’s think of this less as an inconvenience and more as an opportunity to practice what we preach.”
The elf, Nigel, exhales sharply, then speaks, “Now, Ambrus, I’ve spent a king’s ransom fortifying the museum from all sorts of invaders: sentinels from the Golemworks, magical wards from the Arcanamirium, and even contracts for guard beasts, both magical and mundane—spared no expense. I didn’t want to come here, but I’ve got no choice.”
Valsin’s forced smile cracks slightly, showing his annoyance. “Out with it, Nigel. Get to the point.”
“Someone broke into my museum and set off the magical protections! I was preserving priceless Shining Crusade pieces for our new exhibit when the first alarm activated. I sent for district guards and went to investigate, but by the time I arrived, the thieves had already locked themselves in my study. They somehow caused the Shining Crusade relics to fly around the museum and attack my sentinels. Everything is going haywire! The magical traps started to target me, the sentinels are not responding to my commands, and—”
Valsin holds out a hand to steady the increasingly agitated elf. “The last you knew, the thieves were still in your study?” Nigel nods. “Very well. Pathfinders: the Seekers should prepare to teleport directly into the Blakros study—“
“That won’t work,” Nigel interrupts, “The study is magically sealed. After that dreadful Numerian exhibit, I turned it into a magical safe room. The robbers must have figured out how to activate it; no one can get in or out while the wards hold. I can work on breaking the wards, but meanwhile my sentinels are smashing up the collection. Some of those priceless relics are on loan from your own Society lodges, so helping me is really helping yourselves.”
“Fine.” Ambrus Valsin takes a deep breath and then turns to the assembled Pathfinders. “Pathfinders, go to the Blakros Museum, secure any relics you can, disable the security systems, and apprehend the looters if possible. Stay safe.”
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As the Pathfinders conclude the dessert course, a small origami swan flutters through the room and lands on the center of the table. In moments, it unfolds itself into a crisp and crease-less piece of paper.
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Dozens of Wise District guards surround the Blakros Museum. The sergeant nods to Ambrus Valsin as he approaches, a subtle smirk dancing across the venture-captain’s face. The museum itself is alight with swirling whorls of color and the sounds of metal and stone clashing. Occasionally, brief flashes of light burst from the front entrance, illuminating a toppled banner that says “Legacy of the Shining Crusade.”
The broad-shouldered, middle-aged Ulfen man salutes, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. “Well met, Venture-Captain Valsin. I am Svaralk of Asleifar, Sergeant of the Learned Guard. The Guard appreciates your assistance.” He points to his subordinates, “Our initial attempt to quell the animated relics within failed. I’ve ordered the Guard to withdraw and form a perimeter.”
Ambrus Valsin returns the sergeant’s salute, a gesture of mutual respect. “You once served in Grand Prince Stavian III’s Ulfen Guard, did you not?”
Svaralk nods, “That’s right. Afterwards, I retired to Absalom and have served this city for seven years. This is not the first catastrophe I’ve responded to at the Blakros Museum, though none has been quite so dramatic as this. As if anyone needed further proof of the museum’s reputation for trouble.”
The Ulfen confides to the Venture-Captain, “After Nigel Aldain harangued me for dereliction of duty in not immediately retaking the museum, I’m in no rush to sacrifice the lives under my command until the warring creatures inside wear each other down.” He holds up a hand and shakes his head, “I don’t hold Nigel Aldain’s outburst against him. I recognize the elf is rightfully concerned—albeit rather precious—about his exhibit.”
Svaralk turns to your team of Pathfinders and says, “Before you enter, I can provide you an overview of the museum’s layout and tell you that there are animated relics and guard animals on the ground level, and clockwork creatures skirmishing with each other on the floor above. We also have an especially challenging problem in the gardens at the southeast corner of the museum grounds. Some kind of magical runes displaying swarm-like behavior, more magical devices really than living creatures. They proved too complicated a challenge for me and my guards; we simply lacked the skills to disable them.”
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Having shared what he knows about the Blakos family despite his seemingly drunken stupor, Heorn turns to Svaralk.
"Any aid you have provided is very much appreciated and given what you have told us may well have made our jobs easier!" he grins, takes a large swig of tankard which he carried forth from the feast, draining it now.
"Now thise" *hic* "Will be fun."
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There is nothing the foyer so you quickly move on to the first exhibit in the museum.
Under a sign that reads “The Shining Armory,” priceless Shining Crusade artifacts displayed on pedestals creak and move by some unseen force. Eerie light seems to dart between the objects while the din of a raging battle echoes throughout the chamber. The central feature is a low, artificial hill atop which stand two stuffed owlbears surrounded by shattered undead foes. Each of the beasts wears chainmail barding and an orange-and-black caparison depicting a stylized owlbear. A dead man dressed in furs lies on the floor before a suit of full-plate armor.
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[spoiler=Knowledge (arcana) DC 13] The still banners near the dead body is a pair of SHINING CRUSADE BANNERS/animated objects
For every 5 that you beat the DC, you may ask for one piece of information from this list.[/spoiler
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Though Rhiannon has heard of the Blakros family, Heorn's words come as a disappointing surprise to the paladin. "It sounds as though they are not to be trusted. At least not entirely, notwithstanding their 'friendship' with our organization." She comments with a disapproving frown. "Perhaps whatever magic wreaks havoc in their museum is one of their own doing - whether intentional or not."
She speaks no more on the subject for now, but instead follows Valsin's instructions and makes herself ready for the walk to the site of the strange battle. When the others see her next, she is clad in shining banded armor and shield, both emblazoned with the holy symbol of Ragathiel - a hand-and-a-half sword crossed against a feathered wing. The same type of sword is sheathed across Rhiannon's back and a heavy mace of particularly dark iron hangs from her left hip, a simple dagger sheathed at the other. Her raven-dark hair is gathered beneath the gold helmet, a heavy cloak of crimson with gold trim completes the paladin's uniform.
Taking in the scene revealed as they enter the museum, Rhiannon readies her shield and draws her bastard sword, then spares a glance at the unorthodox cavalier astride the tortoise, and speaks through a grim smile. "As you have said, I will stand to one side and let you lead us, Testudo. But know that I shall be right beside you and only a single step behind." The paladin returns her attention to the exhibit, looking for anything out of place that they should be wary of.
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As Tetsudo and Rhiannon enter they notice the large banners moving somewhat towards them - menacingly as though programmed to protect the museum.
Banner Red
Banner Blue
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Vrothum
Heorn
Aika
Rhiannon
Elvik
Aramil
Tetsudo
The pair of banners shamble up to the intruders and the crimson and gold cloth unfurls in a snap at Tetsudo and Rhiannon
Tetsudo's armored stance protects him from the banner but Rhiannon takes that distinct feeling of snapped towel right to her face but manages to keep herself from getting tangled up in the banner.
Banner Red
Banner Blue
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Vrothum
Heorn
Aika
Rhiannon (-8 hp, nonlethal)
Elvik
Aramil
Tetsudo
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Testudo shuts his visor and sets his lance as he and his tortoise begin to ride forth... shockingly quickly actually.
The Tortise huffs and churns his stumpy legs, carrying the knight forward as he strikes out at the banner.
As he does so, the tortoise keeps going past the flapping banners before bumping into a table. Testudo spins in place as the tortoise turns, lyinging up his next shot.
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Vrothum's teeth tear into the cloth of the banner making a sizable tear while Rhiannon's longsword fails to meet its mark.
Heorn takes advantage of the distraction provided by the Turtle Knight's Charge and gets himself into position to flank next turn and them stabs at the banner with his rapier.
Meanwhile Elvik and Aika move forward. There is only room for one of them to safely get into position, so Elvik moves forward and swings his axe at the opposite banner as Heorn.
Banner Red
Banner Blue (-27 hp)
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Vrothum
Heorn
Aika
Rhiannon (-8 hp, nonlethal)
Elvik
Aramil
Tetsudo
The banners continue to attack, the one on the left reaching for the dwarf who just wildly swung at it and the one on the right at the weirdo who just dared to bite it!
The blue banner connects hard with Elvik and then begins to wrap around Elvik, getting him nice and tangled up in knots.
The red one meanwhile falls short of snapping correctly into Vrothum's face. Not even inanimate objects want to touch him.
Round 2
Banner Red
Banner Blue (-27 hp)
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Vrothum
Heorn
Aika
Rhiannon (-8 hp, nonlethal)
Elvik (-14 hp, nonlethal, grappled)
Aramil (MAGE ARMOR)
Tetsudo
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Rhiannon continues her assault against... the banner - which seems a truly ridiculous idea to the paladin. "I'm fine! A little winded and very confused, but fine!" She calls back to Aramil. With grim determination though, Rhiannon continues her assault against the animated object as she tried to avoid being entangled by it.
= Possible Crit!?
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Tetsudo and his stubby legs charge into the banner and tears the cloth to shreds.
Rhiannon meanwhile scores a really solid hit on the other banner.
Aramil magic missiles the other banner than the one he was planning to.
Banner Red (-26 hp)
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Vrothum
Heorn
Aika
Rhiannon (-8 hp, nonlethal)
Elvik (-14 hp, nonlethal, grappled)
Aramil (MAGE ARMOR)
Tetsudo
Aika and Elvik move forward to attack.
Elvik manages to tear apart what remained of the animated banner, leaving the party in the now still museum corridor.