You receive a morning summons to report promptly to the office of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. Upon arrival, it appears that Dreng has not yet arrived.
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Barcher arrived on time, for once, only to notice that not only was he the first one there, but the venture guy wasn't there either! Sssuuurrrreee make the guy get up early in the morning when he's still gone plane-lag from the last mission, and don't even show up on time. Barcher will find a comfy spot to sit down and begins to doze off until Dreng or any fellow pathfinders show up.
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As Pruk entered and announced himself Barcher decided to wait a bit longer to 'wake up' to see who else he might be sent with.
but as soon as Lem walks in he snaps to his feet, Best bard eh??? I'll show him.
"thats a bold boast my friend, but I think I might be better." he says with a wide smile as he stoops down and offers a hand to the halfling, "Names Barcher by the way."
he then looks over to Pruk,"Here ya go Pruk, about as small as they get." he says as he nods back to Lem.
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Smiling to Pruk Lem takes out his lute and starts to play a tune.
Now and then he starts to tell the funny story of Cowan the Barber-ian.
Cowan with his 6 foot barber shears and his attack on the night hag Prascilla of the unruly hair. And how he gave her a shave and a cut. Only to find out that she not only had unruly top hair, but also a beard to make any dwarf green with envy. And then when he finally managed to fight through the jungle of her beard ... she asked him to trim her once more..... down below.
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A dwarven shaped full plate marches into the room, large wooden shield and all manner of Dwarven weapons strapped to his back. He flips up his visor to reveal an older Dwarf with a lack of hair to the north and an abundance to the south. He glances around the room and his eyes settle on Barcher "Eh there Barcher, we're workin' tagether again eh? Who'd a thought."
He then introduces himself around the room to all who are present, leading with a strong, firm handshake "Name's Ironshanks, Ironshanks Magee. Good ta meet ya."
Once the formalities are over with he brings up the elephant in the room "Where's that blasted Dreng at? He ain't much for bein on time..." He eyeballs up a sturdy chair and plants himself in it to wait.
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Barcher raised a hand high in greeting,"Hello Mr. Magee!!! Guess Dreng felt you needed some nice museum visit after that trip to the plane of earth too?" he says to the dwarf he recently adventured with.
Barcher then points to Lem," he says dwarves ladies have 2 beards, is that true?" he asks innocently.
Drandle Dreng’s entrance is as understated as always at the meeting with him this morning. He carries stacks of papers and tomes, and shedding stray pages as he makes his way toward a large, cushioned chair, seemingly oblivious to the discussions the soon-to-be-party members are engaging in around him.
Once seated, he greets you warmly. “Welcome, welcome, glad to see you’ve made yourself at home. No point in beating around the bush, since I’m sure you’re all very curious why I called you here today, hm?"
Without pausing for a response, he continues, “As you may or may not know, the Society has been bolstering its influence with the esteemed Blakros family for some time now, and have assisted them and their famous museum with various incidents over the past few years—discovering several new levels of catacombs in the process."
“Just recently, the Blakros Museum’s curator, Nigel Aldain, informed us that he’d discovered a mysterious portal within the building’s vast catacombs, and sought information regarding how to open it." Dreng shuffles through a few of the papers he brought with him. Looks intently for a moment at one of them, then promptly crinkles it up and tosses it onto the floor.
Turning his attention back toward you, he continues, "We sent one of our agents, a man by the name of Anumet Akrostera, to help research the matter further, which involved delving into the various attics and crawlspaces of the Blakros Museum in search of clues that might lead to the whereabouts of the portal’s key."
He pauses for a moment, reaches down and grabs he crinkled paper, and tries to flatten it back out on his desk as he speaks, "“Earlier today, Nigel showed up here, claiming that something was wrong with Anumet. It seems that the Pathfinder set off some sort of curse or trap while poking around in the place’s attics and was acting strangely, and now he can’t be found at all. I need you to head to Blakros Museum and get to the bottom of this. Find Anumet, and if he has gotten himself into irreparable trouble, you’ll also need to take up where he left off and find that key.”
You may consider what you may already know of the history of the Blakros Museum.
You may also have already heard some rumors about the Blakros Museum, or know how to find people who have.
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A short halfling sidles his way into the room moments after Drendle Dreng's briefing begins. He sends nervous looks at first the Venture Captain and then each of his new team mates, his bright-red hair shaking as his attention flits from person to person. While he does so, he scratches every so often at the cracked, dry, flaky skin on his face. With each scratch, a massive, scale-shaped flake of skin peels off and drifts to the floor. Realizing what he's doing, he halts abruptly and puts his hands behind his back.
When Dreng finishes speaking, Cazlin looks down at the floor for a moment, before summoning up his inner strength and pushing out a few words "B-Blakros? L-lini was there... n-not long ago." He takes a breath, as though just saying that much was difficult "S-saved N-nigel. I'll h-help too."
Surprisingly, this odd little halfling knows a little about the Blakros Museum. Unfortunately, bringing that information to the attention of his new allies is too much for the fellow. He grits his teeth, trying to force words out carefully, and then finally gives up, stepping back to rest next to the wall.
Each of you has acquired from some source, some information that may prove useful on this latest mission.
Worthy Servant of the Empire,
It is unfortunate that someone of your vast talents must squander them with the mundane task of calming the Blakros Museum’s anxious curator.
In order that your journey not be a complete waste, I ask that you visit the Arcanamirium. Within this arcane college’s halls dwells a journeyman by the name of Maren Fuln, a pathetic individual who has had dealings with the Society in the past. I have heard through my various channels in Absalom that Fuln has taken a member of Taldan royalty as a lover, a rumor that both surprises and perturbs me. I need you to find evidence of the rumored letters between Fuln and a member of our royalty and figure out who exactly Fuln has been corresponding with.
In the Emperor’s service,
Lady Gloriana Morilla
Adherent of the Learned Ancients,
I have heard tell of an ancient wizard by the name of Beldrin, whose tower’s spires still adorn the southernmost bluff of the Precipice Quarter. This wizard was said to possess great skill in numerous fields of magical study, among them the animation of statues.
If you happen to find yourself anywhere near some of Beldrin’s magically animated statues, be sure to take a sample of the stone they are made of, so that we may study the ancient arcana he used to create them. Try to get a sample from a statue that is still in its animated state so as to best preserve its arcane energies. Do be careful, however—I imagine the statue won’t appreciate such a sampling very much.
In wisdom’s service,
Amenopheus, the Sapphire Sage
Guardian of the True Path,
According to Nigel Aldain’s report to the Grand Lodge, some sort of curse or magical ailment has befallen Anumet, the agent the Society sent to aid Nigel in the Blakros Museum, and we fear it may interfere with a task we assigned him.
In addition to helping Nigel, we asked Anumet to discreetly review the museum’s records for indications of House Blakros interfering with Pathfinder Society affairs—the family and the Society have been on good terms of late, but it never hurts to be cautious. Please ensure that any records Anumet took from the archives have been returned to their proper place before the museum’s curator notices anything amiss.
Your loyal service shall be rewarded,
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin
Child of the Padishah Empire,
As you doubtless know, no other land’s merchants can fairly be compared to the marvelous trade princes of the Padishah Empire. Unfortunately, the rapacious pirates of the Inner Sea often disrupt our trade, driving up expenses and forcing ruinous shipping delays. The worst of these often take refuge in Taldan harbors. These jackals in human form must be stopped!
While visiting the Blakros Museum, make some excuse to visit the museum’s offices. Journals kept within should detail the Blakros family’s trade in Qadiran artifacts, including the gold they’ve spent to bribe pirates into letting their ships pass. Find the names of the family’s contacts in the city of Zimar. Our agents will then “persuade” these contacts to aid our cause.
May your ventures be profitable,
Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam
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Pruk looks at Drandle with the utmost curiosity. ”Why throw paper on ground? Paper not important?”
After staring at Drandle as if he would answer Pruk begins to pace around slowly.
”What is portal? These catacombs have creatures to smash?” Pruk looks around at the group as if everyone is focused on him. He makes a fist and hits his other hand, imitating the smashing of something.
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Ironshanks listens as Lem recounts his stories "Well then. Seems like these Blakros fellas have lotsa weird stuff up in museum eh? We best be ready fer anythin'." He gives Pruk a look of encouragement.
"Seems like we'll have the smashin' part down pat at least. Any of you all wield healin' sticks? Then we just need someone good with tricks n traps maybe? Or some other arcane trickery?" He looks to the others, minus Pruk obviously.
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"Oh great, here I was thinking I was just gonna get to enjoy the museum." Barcher says sarcastically,"But nooooo, That poor Anumet probably ran into one of old Ralzeros' old traps, or even one laid by the Blackrose themselves."
"I can use the healing sticks but it s not exactly my specialty Mr. Magee," he responds to Ironshanks questions, "I can usually find a magic trap, getting rid of it is another deal entirely though."
With some urgency, the party heads to the museum (having made any purchases they deem appropriate). By the time you get to the museum, Nigel Aldain is standing outside waiting to meet you.
The expression on his face is disturbed, but the curator looks somewhat relieved when he spies a few faces that look, at least, vaguely familiar. "You're Pathfinders!" he cries. “Thank the gods you’re finally here. It would appear something quite bizarre has happened to my new Pathfinder-turned-assistant, Anumet Akrostera, while we were researching the key to the newly discovered portal beneath the museum."
He expounds further, "I had warned Anumet that many corners of the museum hold mysteries that, as of yet, have never been looked into, but I’m afraid something got to him all the same, as the last time yesterday I saw him he was acting quite strangely, and he failed to return today. I fear something evil in the attics of the museum may have cursed him.”
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[ooc] Sorry folks. Website has eaten my posts every time.[ooc]
A dusty skinned gnome walks in, her face tattooed with white, spiraled designs. You smell a whiff of decay as she passes through the door but only for a brief moment. Her hair is white as a snowcapped mountain which is contrasted by everything else on her person beingdyed a dark, deep black. She sighs loudly as she enters the room, murmuring something under her breath about directions. In a completely uninterested, monotone voice she says: “Last one here I guess. Ain’t that grand. Where are we going?” Sighing deeply again, she gathers all the information being handed out and discussed and begins picking her teeth with a large wooden toothpick. “We ready?”
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The elder Dwarf combs his beard out a bit with his fingers as he remembers Barcher and his wand using. "Musta forgot that bit, good one. Mine's right here if needed." He points to a bleached white stick in his belt.
Ironshanks flips up his visor and approaches Nigel for a proper introduction and stiff handshake "Ironshanks Magee at yer service Nigel." He gives the Elf a quick up and down before listening on.
"Got a map maybe we can use? Labeled somewhat be helpful." He seconds Lem in the question of 'strangely how?'.
Who in the hells has an Elf in charge of anything besides growin' trees? He then looks sideways as the strange looking Gnome arrives. "Ironshanks Magee here. And who might you be?" He asks, just a bit curious at the newcomer.
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"Greetings, Ironshanks." Nigel responds. Who in the hells sends a Dwarf on a mission of anything besides digging holes?
"As for Amunet's strange behavior..." the curator continues. "He was exploring the museum’s attics and towers looking for clues about the key to a newly discovered portal in the museum’s catacombs. This morning, he went up to the attic for a long time, and when he came down, he acted strangely, as if he didn’t recognize anyone. His voice was hoarse and the words he used were bizarre and archaic. He kept rambling about Ralzeros the Overwatched, but nothing he said made sense."
“He made for the catacombs and stared at the portal we’ve been trying to unlock for some time." Nigel continues. "I don’t think he realized I was still there, and I followed him around the other areas in the catacombs, where he seemed to be desperately searching for something. When he couldn’t find it, he was furious. Anumet avoided me after that, but I saw him look something up in our copy of Jackdaw’s History of the True Art, a book about famous wizards and astrologers." When describing the book, Nigel looks directly at Ironshanks, as if the dwarf were unlikely to know about astrologers or anything about the night sky.
"Amnumet took the book with him and ran out of the museum." Nigel concludes with a shake of his head. "I didn’t dare follow him, and haven’t seen him since.”
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Why the heck's he staring at me, don't he know I don't give two shits about wizards and them night sky watchin' fools? Buncha day dreamin' Elves all they are.
Ironshanks clears his throat at the conclusion only to ask yet another question "So.. we goin' in to find the key to this portal or headin' off into town to find yer lost assistant who went crazy?" He asks with a bit of patented Dwarven annoyance. "And ya got any more copies of that book? Could be helpful if ya did. Or know who does?" He looks around at his fellows for a bit of help on that end.
“I have no idea where Anumet went after he left the museum." Nigel notes. "Though, before he left, he was muttering something about Ralzeros’s duel, but he was hunched over and wouldn’t look at me when I tried to ask what he was talking about.”
"Still, I do have some idea where in the museum he has been." the curator suggests, “I’m not sure, but you might be able to follow his trail in the dust. The attics are filthy."
"As for obtaining copy of the History of the True Art, the Forae Logos is the only other place I can think that would have a copy.” laments Nigel. “I don’t really know what all that tome holds, but it does discuss Ralzeros the Overwatched quite a bit."
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Cazlin has been following along behind the group like a red-haired shadow, awkwardly trying to not stand out too much despite his appearance. When the group arrives in front of the museum, he looks up at the building and heaves a sigh of relief, quietly saying "N-no m-mist this t-time... good."
He blinks with alarm at Barcher's offer, then fishes out his own wand of cure light wounds and passes it over with a bit of a bow. "T-thank you! C-counting... on y-you."
He listens carefully and quietly to Nigel's briefing regarding the latest events in the museum. When the elf mentions that his new assistant was uttering some strange words and mentioning weird people, Cazlin's eyes go wide.
'Damn if that doesn't sound a little like what happened to me! Maybe I'll find something that'll finally help me, up in that attic! If we can help this Amunet guy, maybe that'll work on me too!'
He continues listening in, and offers a couple of his own questions. "A-amunet... c-c-cursed? O-or just c-crazy?" and "P-possessed maybe?". After hearing Nigel's answers to Ironshanks' questions, he also adds "W-what's Ffforae L-logos?"
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Ironshanks gives Lem an odd look "Movin' be great. Just gotta decide where ta move to. I say we try findin' Amunet in town first, see what's gone broke in the kid's 'ead. Just gotta ask 'round for Ralzeros’s duel."
He rubs his beard and finally adds in "Got a description of the kid maybe? What's he wearin' and how he keeps his beard?"
"Yes very strange indeed"[b] Barcher comments, [b]"maybe an evil wizard figured out a way to time stop the whole city? He muses.
The Grand Council requires that every book brought into the city either be left with the scriveners of the Logos to be copied, or be taxed a silver per page. While enforcement of this rule is haphazard at best, over the eons the law has produced extensive copies of books, scrolls, and lore from around the world.
In fact, the district guard is housed in buildings around Forae Logos, and their mandate requires them to protect it before the citizens of the district. They are also the only guard unit that requires literacy as a prerequisite for entrance, to ensure all their guards can properly appreciate the value of the words they protect.
It is also home to the Scrivener’s Guild, which cares for the tomes of the vast library in return for free use of its building. By long tradition the head of the guild is also the Head Librarian and Conservator of the Logos, and Brivit Nae, the current holder of those titles, is an excellent example of why. Though she forbids any tome to be removed, and rarely allows originals to even be viewed by outsiders, she does happily make copies of the tomes within through the guild, for a modest fee. Of course she always has two copies made, to ensure the most valued tomes are those with the largest number of back-up copies. She herself spends nearly all her time restoring old, crumbling tomes which will otherwise be lost, and only the most outrageous or unusual of requests, or anyone able to offer a new tome of which the Logos has no copy, gets her out of her offices.
Arriving at the Forae Logos—one of the largest libraries in the world—the party is faced with the sheer magnitude of the volume of literary works stored within.
Scholars, scribes, and pages alike can be seen among the stacks of tomes, almost always accompanied by what is almost certainly a member f the Scrivener's Guild. A substantial area is filled with desks, where scribes are busy putting ink to quill, transcribing various scrolls, rubbings, codexes, and other works to parchment.
A young man dressed in scholarly robes approaches. "Welcome to the Forae Logos. I am apprentice scrivener Kaluch. How may I be of assistance?"
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Ironshanks looks around at the bulk of his... less than personable companions and starts to let out an epic string Dwarven curse words until he realizes Barcher could be their only hope here. Good Gods, this Elf and his lady face could be our only hope in this overgrown bookshelf!
"Umm, ya, like Barcher said. We're lookin' fer that book, er maybe even a queer fella that was in here this mornin' fer it?" He tries to sound friendly, not so much.
Apprentice Kaluch pages through a massive codex of works, then directs the party to Brivit Nae, the library’s Head Librarian and Guildmaster of the Scrivener’s Guild, for permission to view the library's copy of the History of the True Art.
At the prompting of Kaluch, who in turn had been prompted by Barcher the Guildmaster permits the party an opportunity to examine the book. In addition, she offers--for a modest price (5 gp)--to see to it that her scribes make a copy of the tome for the party to take with them (though the process will take to complete).
Inquiries regarding a person matching Anumet's description--what little you have of one--are met with blank stares and shrugs. You are told that there have been no sightings of such a person reported at the library or anywhere within the Wise Quarter, the section of the City of Absalom that houses many of the institutions of learning and education within the city including the Blakros Museum, the Forae Logos, and the Arcanamirium.
The tome, in part, recounts an old legend of Absalom, which tells that the Blakros Museum was once the mighty stronghold of an astrologer called Ralzeros the Overwatched. Ralzeros watched the stars with his weird machines, and, per the legends, was able to communicate with the otherworldly beings of the Dark Tapestry, the black spaces between the stars.
The legend claims that Ralzeros had a rival within the city--the prominent mage, Beldrin. After a significant feud between the two, Ralzeros disappeared. The book suggests that this feud arose when Ralzeros accused Beldrin of stealing a key to one of Ralzeros’ many chambers, which contained the wondrous magical tools he used to watch and be watched by the stars.
Some claim that Beldrin did, in fact, steal a key to one of Ralzeros’ magical chambers. Those who ascribe to this theory, largely suspect that Beldrin most likely hid the key in one of his three towers, which once stood on a promontory near what is now the Precipice Quarter.
Only one of these towers still remains standing—the Tower of the Broken Shield, commonly called Beldrin’s Tower.
Another, the Tower of the Candelabra, has sunk deep beneath the water.
The third, the Tower of the Horn, fell to the base of the bluff; it remains half-flooded at all times and is only accessible during an extremely low tide. The Tower of the Horn is said to have held the keys to many of the chambers in Beldrin's other spires.
The book concludes that, if the mage had stolen a key from Ralzeros, that he most likely hid it in the Tower of the Horn.
The centerpiece of the area was the three-spired, ivory towers of Beldrin, built on the edge of the cliffs overlooking Absalom Harbor. Even when most of that tower collapsed into the ocean, the rest of the district seemed blessed with good fortune and fair winds—until the earthquake of 4698 AR, the most disastrous moment in the reign of Lord Gyr. Whole city blocks tumbled into the sea, and hundreds died as their streets and communities crumbled away, leaving an ugly, jagged scar of cliffside.
The entire district was abandoned, and it no longer has a ruling council, district watch, or viable community. In many places, undead roam freely, and no one is allowed to cross into neighboring districts from dusk until dawn. Thieves, killers, and vagabonds sometimes seek refuge here, but as it is said that, as often as not, their screams are heard at night as they discover there is no longer any safety in the Precipice Quarter.
One of the three towers of Beldrin still stands, sitting on the very edge of the precipice over the sea, actually groaning when hit by high winds. Rumor claims there are still items of great wealth and power within the tower, left by Beldrin and possibly able to rebuild the section of the city he loved so much. Adventurers have gone into the tower more than once, and while some return with treasure and others are
never seen again.
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Cazlin shuffles from side to side behind the rest of the group, craning his head around the others to try to get a glimpse of the book and its contents. When he finally finds a good perch from which to view the pages of the book, he reads voraciously, hoping to find something in the book related to his peculiar condition. When it seems far more focused on the myths and histories of Absalom, his shoulders slump and he looks visibly disappointed.
After a bit more reading he pipes up with "Amunet p-probably went t-to" He swallows, as if trying to force something down. "T-tower of the H-horn?"
'Looking for the key to the portal, stolen by Beldrin, I'd guess, based on what we know so far. I wonder if Amunet really is possessed? Maybe he's just a really focused, really eccentric scholar. There are some weirdos out there.'
While the rest of the group discusses the contents, he heads to a scribe and holds out five gold pieces. "C-copy... p-please."
Brivit nods as she receives the coins from Cazlin. She calls for Kaluch and personally carries the book over to a desk where she instructs the apprentice to sit and commence transcription.
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Ironshanks listens as the important bits are read to the group "Towers of undead? Half underwater! Well that ain't great news kids... hope we got us a real low tide soon eh?" He rises from his chair with a clank and a squeak. You aren't 100% sure if its his armor or his knees sounding the alarm.
"First things first... we gotta find out when the tide is ripe to explore that barnacle barn. Sure would be helpful if we know what the right key looked like right? And I wouldn't mind some helpful magic to deal with that Dwarven death trap known as the ocean!"
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Barcher pulls up a chair and lights his long churchwarden pipe and begins to consume the information in the book, scouring over its details. when he finally finishes he looks to Cazlin "Aye Cazlin, I'd wager he did head to that tower." he says as he takes a long draw from his smoke/ "Mr. Magee is right though, no sense going down there till we know when low tide is."
"'Course, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I know when low tide around here is... we should go to the tower then."
Barcher knows that the tide goes out .