You are in Absalom, the mighty City at the Center of the World.
For some of you the training to become a Pathfinder has just ended ... some of you already had their first missions.
You have heard rumors that the Pathfinder Society is stretched thin at the moment and that junior Pathfinders are asked to complete more dangerous missions than usual.
You always knew that you would be continuously asked to explore one of the countless ruins that litter the plains outside the city’s walls on Golarion. Some of your colleagues have the opinion that this is the best way to start a life of excitement and adventure ... by exploring long-abandoned, dusty halls and perhaps claiming its ancient treasures but what about you?
* * * * *
You have been chosen to be part of the Pathfinder group that will leave to travel to Highdelve on a critical mission for the society.
You are led through the Great Hall of Skyreach past a large table with a shifting illusionary Inner Sea map on its massive surface. Standing around the Hall are dozens of pathfinders of various races exchanging stories of their exploits.
You are directed towards a smaller meeting room, past an ornate fountain with crystal clear water. You can feel the chill from the cascading droplets as some splash you on their decent to the pool.
The placard before the room reads, “The Pipeweed Nook”. Opening the door you see a long table, chairs.
You enter with the other Pathfinders but are still waiting for the Venture-Captain to arrive and give you the final briefing before you travel to Highdelve.
Dotting. Need to set up an alias.
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A large humanoid figure looks to the sign for a moment before entering and sitting down at the table, waiting for other pathfinders to arrive. This large muscular woman has thick, pinkish skin and a pair of orcish tusks sticking out of her mouth. It was clear by her appearance that she has had some mixed orc blood into her otherwise human ancestry.
Strapped upon her back is a massive blade and wearing heavy armour as she glances around the hall, waiting for other pathfinders who have answered the call to arrive.
A well armored dwarf with a large ax on one side and a smaller hammer on the other seats himself, but he doesn't seem very talkative, particularly if the only pathfinder to talk to is an orc.
The door opens and you see the renowned Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng enter the meeting room.
He looks as if he did not have much sleep as he has a sleepy-eyed look on his face.
He has a violin and a meerschaum pipe in his hand and sets it on the table. He withdraws a small pouch from the slipper and opening it, removes some shag tobacco. He begins to pack the pipe with the tobacco before removing a hot poker from a fireplace in the room, touching it to the pipe bowl, and drawing on the pipe until the contents kindle an ember.
He stands eyeing the assembled group and puffing on the pipe for a long few moments before speaking.
"Well, well, so you are the team they sent here for this mission?! You look tough but are you the right people for this mission? You already heard that we are sending you to Highdelve, right?" he says with a stern look.
"First missions are usually less dangerous but our informant's reasons to ask for a team as well as the nature of the assignment were a little vague ..."
He eyes you again.
"I called you in tonight to discuss a problem I need you to solve." he says as clouds of pipe smoke drift lazily around his head.
"Well, more than two centuries ago, the humans of House Garess flourished in the foothills of the Golushkin Mountains in western Brevoy, where they founded Highdelve as a settlement of human artisans to work the dwarven ore their allies supplied. However, as the years went on, House Garess’s numbers waned, and the noble family scaled its business back. By this time, thousands inhabited Highdelve."
He looks at you to see if you are still listening.
"Rather than languish under House Garess’s neglect, the Highdelvers began to focus on self-sufficiency. It built a robust economy and 50 years ago, the leaders of highdelve approached the patriarch of House Garess in Grayhaven roughly 20 miles south. It wasn’t full independence Highdelve wanted as much as a release from any major taxes and military duties the town might owe its feudal overlords. Not in the position to fight the Highdelvers, House Garess acquiesced. From that day, Highdelve has been independent in everything but the strictest formalities."
He pauses for a moment.
"Have you ever heard of Aurelliax?" he asks.
Being so far north, winters are long and harsh. The short spring and summer seasons require the populace to farm and fish just enough to keep food on the table.
* * * Separate check * * *
You have heard the stories of Highdelve's history in more detail ... what the Highdelvers didn’t know, however, is that benevolent eyes had been watching the situation that the Venture-Captain described unfold.
The settlement piqued the interest of Aurelliax, a gold dragon who had lived for more than a century in a mountaintop lair near Highdelve.
The dragon admired the town’s tenacity, and its people’s generosity toward their neighbors warmed her kind heart. Shortly after Highdelve broke from House Garess, Aurelliax offer the humans her patronage and protection for free.
Elated and humbled, the townspeople accepted—provided that Aurelliax never involved herself in the settlement’s internal affairs. After all, the Highdelvers did not wish to simply trade one overlord for another. Her motivations genuine and pure, Aurelliax assented.
For the Highdelvers’ part, awe for Aurelliax quickly turned into true affection, as the dragon time and again has demonstrated her dedication to this settlement of about 4,500.
Dreng raises an eyebrow.
"Aurelliax is a gold dragon who had lived for more than a century in a mountaintop lair near Highdelve and the dragon time and again has demonstrated her dedication to this settlement of about 4,500."
He pauses again.
"I do not want to go into the details of why a gold dragon would do that but I can assure you that we had a hand in that story. This was just background information because your mission actually concerns two kids. Well, they are young adults by now. RICHELLE AND TOLWIN are their names. They are not related but they are the kids of two deceased Pathfinders. We placed them under the protection of the mayor of Highdelve 17 summers ago - Winette Qarl is her name."
The Venture-Captain sighs and looks at his feet.
"We received a message that they are misbehaving. I have to admit that this mission is personal for me and I want you to check on them. They know nothing about their parents' history but if you can find out what is going on I would appreciate that."
He looks back into your eyes again and smokes his pipe, sending smoke into the air.
"Of course we would never send you to Highdelve just because of two kids ... this is just a coincidence that I am using to my own benefit." he laughs.
"During one of our other missions we learned of a plot againt Aurelliax. We do not know the details but we know that an agent of a cult of Kostchtchie, Gilda Korgren, traveled to Highdelve more than a year ago to craft a ring with special significance to the cult of Kostchtchie ... additionally, we learned about a Port Ice–based shipping company that is trying to track cargo that went missing between the port and Silverhall in southern Brevoy. We do know that the cargo included several Thassilonian relics that could also be of value to the Kostchtchie worshipper."
Born a mortal man of Ulfen stock before being cursed, Kostchtchie is now the demon lord of giants and biting cold.
Kostchtchie's main worshipers are giants who have turned from the worship of their traditional deities, particularly Thremyr, and instead embraced the demonic as being a more aggressive philosophy.
Dreng stops pacing long enough to knock some of the ashes out of his pipe and reload it with more tobacco.
"Go to Highdelve and see what you can find out!"
"No problem, boss. I'll take a firm hand with the lad and lass and have then set straight in no time."
Spoken like a true bachelor who has never raised a child. Torgen is, well, a dwarf. Short, stout, and a bit overconfident. Armed with a warhammer and battle axe, two of the races favorite weapons, but no shield. Obviously a fellow that believes that a good offense is the best defense, though he has not skimped on armor and wears a nice sturdy set of scale mail that he seems to carry quite comfortably. He has black hair and grey eyes and fingernails that seem chewed to pieces.
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Previously content to skulk around the back of the group, Tuuli steps forward to examine at last. She appears almost painfully thin with extremely pale skin marked with strange bluish-grey swirlings and patterns down the side of her cheeks & her neck as well as on the back of her hands. The unusual young girl's piercing eyes convey the sense of an extremely sharp mind and a curious nature.
"Kostchtchie?" Tuuli almost whispers the word in a light voice that is barely more than the whooshing sound of a gentle breeze. "I have read that he was born a mortal man of Ulfen stock before being cursed,but is now the demon lord of giants and biting cold. Kostchtchie's main worshipers are giants who have turned from the worship of their traditional deities, particularly Thremyr, and instead embraced the demonic as being a more aggressive philosophy!" She looks across the group, as if embarrassed for interupting the meeting with her voice and then steps back a little, her pale face turning a very light pink.
Dreng smiles at Tuuli and nods.
"Exactly Tuuli! To be honest we know very little about Gilda Korgren. She is a human follower of a demonic god ... and we know that she has a son from a letter we were able to dispatch. But nothing else."
He looks at the whole group and tries to assess your level of comfort with this mission and continues.
"This is one of your first mission so be careful. Please make haste and travel to Highdelve. Any more questions?"
Haste? Why is it these long legged races are always in such a hurry?
"I do hope we have a chance to meet this gold dragon. I can't say I have ever met a dragon of any sort, but this would be a rare thing indeed. A GOLD dragon. Aren't they like the royalty of the metallic dragons? Why would one have anything to do with a human settlement?"
The gruff dwarf sits stone still as he speaks, his mouth moving but nothing else.
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Tall, slim, and silent like much of his race, Jarrish stood in the rear of the room almost motionless during the briefing. Simply watching the room with his green eyes, bald head crinkled in a frown of consternation at the mention of being saddled with wayward brats.
Luckily the mention of dealing with a priest if some frost giant cult sounded far more interesting, especially with ancient artifacts possibly thrown into the mix.
I joined the pathfinders for knowledge and power, not to babysit some adolescent brats, regardless of their parentage
Still, he did have a question.
"These kids, how are they misbehaving?"
Not having any further questions he starts to lift his kit, simple backpack full of survival gear, longsword, spell book, the usual for a warrior mage like himself, then hears the dwarf speak up about meeting the dragon.
"Yes, meeting one such as Aurelliax would be worth the journey. I agree."
He was still, in fact, looking forward to the journey as he had never been to Brevoy and always treasured journeying to new places.
"These kids, how are they misbehaving?"
"To be honest, I do not know. I just heard they there were disciplinary actions by the mayor ... you probably will find out more when you are there!"
With those last words Dreng turns his attention away from you, picks his violin up, opens the door and begins playing and walking out of the room simultaneously.
HIGHDELVE
It’s late when your caravan arrives in Highdelve.
Most of the travelers are only stopping for dinner before proceeding on to the next town, but you have a mission here, and so you remain when the wagons pull out again.
When you get to the inn you find it unusually crowded. The innkeeper only has one room available, what with the festival tomorrow.
If you’re willing to share, however, she has some cots she can set up and there should be room enough for the four of you. As you walk down into the common room for dinner, you find it, too, is more crowded than you would expect.
A four-top comes open right as you walk in, though, and almost as soon as you sit the waiter comes by with bowls of stew and mugs of ale for the four of you. You eat and have a chance to get to know your new comrades on this mission.
Torgen concentrates on his meal, showing an extreme economy of movement as he does so, barely chewing his food, but pausing significantly between bites. His weapons are stowed securely to the side where they will not get in the way, and his helmet sits resting on the floor between his feet. He is a burly dwarf, wide even for dwarves, with a broad and hairy face and thin lips. He squints at the others as if he has poor vision.
When served, he takes the opportunity to asks "Might I inquire what this festival is about?"
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A redheaded halfling very slowly creaks open the door to the bustling inn. The looks around the room very slowly. From his robs he pulls out a...jam tart...and takes a bite, while peering even more suspiciously around the room. His eyes falling on each face.
Crumbs fall on to his robes.
He walks over to the table at which the pathfinders sit.
Mouth full he whispers, "uoo da pafinders," before he starts coughing on the crumbs.
He composes himself and says in an unconvincing clandestine tone, "You the pathfinders for the 'Cost-itchy' mission? Cause...I was late for the meeting. I'm Moose."
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Jarrish sits with the group, having been silent in study for much of the trip. Agreeing to bunk together, Jarrish looks on the hot food and ale with relish, eagerly partaking in both as they get settled. Whe Moose shows up, Jarrish nods politely to the newcomer, simply saying "Greetings. I'm Jarrish"
Once the group settles and has eaten and washed the road dust from their throats, he venture "Where shall we begin? Though skilled in both blade and magic, I confess my skills are more potent in combat than an investigation. "
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"People like takin' to me, but I don't really know what to say a lot of the time. I'm great at eye spy. Like that guy has a dagger, that guy has put paper in his shoes to seem taller, and that guys is drinking water pretending it beer trying to win a cards. And, I want to best monk and waggeling magic wand things."
Torgen sloooowly wipes his mouth.
"I am Torgen, skilled with ax and hammer and this is Jarrish skilled in sword and battle magic. Pleased to meet you both. Any of you know what the festival is for?"
what is the Brightbloom Jubilee?
During the first evening and your first hour on the jubilee you learn that the Brightbloom Jubilee is a 2-day party with a distinct structure of events.
Before the jubilee, the town elects two young locals to serve as Bloomgivers — an enormous honor for those chosen. Early on the celebration’s first day, the Bloomgivers venture with an empty wagon up nearby Dendra’s Slope, where the largest field of brightblooms grows.
The jubilee then runs throughout the day, and it includes a full slate of amusements, games, and festive street food, all set up in the town’s main Protectress Square.
In the afternoon, the Bloomgivers return to town with the first harvest of brightblooms, and the townspeople fete the youths’ journey by escorting them from the gates back to Protectress Square.
There, the Bloomgivers hand out brightblooms to eager townspeople. The rest of the evening is spent as a public dance party known as the Brightbloom Ball. The jubilee’s second day is spent alternately removing winterizing measures from the town’s buildings and breaking into spontaneous rounds of song and dance.
The mood is festive in the inn as the evening progresses. Eventually, weary from your travel, you head to bed.
The sun rises, and after a quiet breakfast, you emerge out into the town square. Beams of sunlight stream past the snow-capped mountains as a joyous scene spreads before you.
Overnight, the town's staid and utilitarian main square sprouted colorful tents, a pop-up theater, a spinning contraption made of barrel bottoms, some manner of race course, and more unexpected delights.
Laughter and boisterous shouts echo from all the square's corners as its quaint cobblestone streets teem with villagers sporting festive clothes and wide smiles.
Throughout it all, the smell of fried foods weaves through air laced with the warmth of a summer that's just begun.
Activities in view:
A1. Youths stand on and around tall wooden storage boxes, playing some sort of game.
A2. Lanes have been drawn and sack races are being run.
A3. A large, gilt statue of a dragon.
A4. A Barrel-Go-Round ride has been erected.
A5. A small puppet theater has gathered a crowd.
A6. A stand sells delicious-smelling fried food on sticks.
Several well-dressed professionals stand in a circle bandying about the lingo of seasoned traders. “What a time to be visiting!” one shouts.
“It’s the best time to catch important people in one place. If you’ve any business to conduct in Highdelve, now’s the time for it, to be sure!”
A teenage boy pushes through the crowd with a star-struck look on his face.
“Have you seen her? Have you seen Aurelliax? You know, the gold dragon! The one who keeps the whole town safe! She’s here, but she never stays in one place for long. Everyone wants to talk to her, and she’s so nice—she wants to spend time with us all!”
* * *
For the past decade or so, the people of Highdelve have expressed some concern about sending their youthful Bloomgivers up Dendra’s Slope to collect brightblooms for several hours alone.
The brightbloom field is about an hour’s hike from the town proper, and the foothills are full of threats.
To quell their qualms, and to reinforce that Aurelliax would never suffer an outside threat to the town, the gold dragon has begun lending the Bloomgivers a special amulet called the Golden Pendant each year for their journey up the slope.
Not even the gold dragon has elaborated on exactly what the amulet can do, and she’s instructed the townspeople not to bother examining it much magically, but everyone knows that it’s a treasure that would make Abadar himself proud.
Two elderly women watch a group of adolescents giggle and shoot furtive glances toward the square’s western entrance.
“It warms this old granny’s heart to see those sweet kids,” one of the women says. “So young! So much energy! They just can’t wait for the Bloomgivers to come back from Dendra’s Slope so they can celebrate. But I wonder what’s keeping those Bloomgivers? They’ve usually returned by now!”
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Jarrish does his best to gather what information he could, wandering the festival asking few questions an raptly soaking any historical information he can. Unfortunately his arrogant, aloof, elvish manner puts many people off. He was never gifted with gab, and dealing with "normal" people and races tired him.
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Tuuli, painfully shy but also keenly curious, doesn't speak much while the group introduce themselves over dinner, only answering direct questions with one or two words. She listens very keenly, however, to everyone's stories and clearly enjoys just observing the interactions. She does let it be known that she likes to study magic, and likes to take long walks as her favourite hobby, listening to the voice of the winds.
Unfortunately, her shyness means she isn't very confident approaching strangers in and around town, although she is happy to mingle, or more often just linger around the edges, watching what goes on with obvious curiosity and interest.
The knowing dwarf nods along with Moose.
"There is a distinct chance we may meet this dragon. One can hope. If you will excuse me, I'm going to go check out the puppet show."
Torgen walks to the puppet show. He notices a thin trail of smoke beginning to rise from behind the stage. He slightly peeks around the corner.
What you find is a slender, elegantly dressed man in an inelegant position.
He sits with his legs sprawled out and his back slumped against the rear of the stage while stressfully puffing away at a cigarette. A large, silver signet ring on his index finger bares the initials "CG".
He takes several more puffs, lets out a deep sigh, opens his eyes, and notices Torgen.
"O-oh, apologies. You've caught me in a simply dreadful position. Were you watching the show?"
"Was going to. Taking a rest?"
PUPPET SHOW - A5. Theatre in the Miniature
The man looks at Torgen with a surprised look on his face.
"You are right ... it looks like I am resting. I am Carth. You enjoyed the show? Oh dear gods whom am I kidding?! I gave the responsibility for the puppets to my apprentice, Richelle, but ... well, if she would have spent her time learning from my years of experience but no ... and she's not at the festival today and I hope she returns tomorrow."
You notice that he's trying to sound optimistic about his apprentice, but something is worrying him.
STATUE - A3. Our Gilded Lady
Jarrish walks to the center of the jubilee where a statue of a dragon is visible. He can take in it's majesty up close.
Fully 10 feet high and twice as long, the centerpiece of the square is a gilt statue of a gold dragon with outstretched wings.
A plaque at the base reads:
"Highdelve dedicates this statue and all of Protectress Square to Aurelliax, Our Gilded Lady. Long may her golden wings envelop us, and may we never fail her when she calls."
"Sounds like you are in a bind. If she planned the show and she is not here - is there going to be a show? Do you have a backup plan? I know a halfling that might be willing to help."
The games and food catch Moises eye. He heads to the tall boxes (A1).
Moose takes the lead and starts walking to the boxes where you pass a the food stall.
Food stall A6. Fair Food
Buzzing about the multicolored tents here are townspeople eating fried dough and meat skewered on thin sticks. Rich, delicious smells permeate the air as a tall, broad-shouldered man works the crowd, telling snappy jokes and offering friendly handshakes.
”Well hi there folks! You must be visitors to our fair town! Eh, get it? FAIR town?”
He chuckles as he rushes off to greet the next group walking up. The next time he passes by, he says ”My name's Toshi. Anyway, welcome! What can I getcha? Funnel cake? Corn dog? Fortifies the bones, only one silver!”
Torgen sees that the man is a little shy when Richelle not being here is mentioned.
He takes out a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it over to Torgen .
"Look here! It is really sad. And ... you will not see Richelle here today. And no more shows! Can you please leave me ... you see that I am stuck, right?"
Upon picking the leaflet Torgen sees that it bears sketches of a scowling human boy and girl, each about 17, along with the following message.
“Be advised: Richelle and Tolwin, apprentices to Carth Garenth and Yarla Bowhammer, are not permitted at the jubilee. If seen, please turn them away from your events.”
Torgen reads the notice and whistles.
"Any chance they got involved with someone named Gilda Korgren? Hmmm. Can you point out Winette Qarl for me? I thought these two were put under her protection."
Torgen is not exactly feeling the man's pain. He seems like a quitter and Torgen does not care for quitters.