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Venture-Captain Naiaj watches a map holographically projected onto the spherical wall of the dimly lit chamber. This meeting room is aptly named the “Starscape Chamber” and hosts various important strategic meetings for the Society. The pale bleachling gnome slightly nods a greeting, hardly looking away from the stellar map.
“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” she says, as she finally turns away from the map. “As you should already know, the Starfinder Society lost not only many agents but also a great deal of equipment in the Scoured Stars incident. Since then, we’ve been dealing with a shortage of guns, ammunition, armor, tools, and provisions. Over the past four months, the Society has recovered to the point that we are able to start replacing some of the equipment we lost. While we are explorers, right now, battle-ready firearms are sorely needed.”
Naiaj momentarily turns to face the map and makes a request: “Starscape, show me Nightarch.”
The map on the wall zooms in on one of the outermost planets of the Pact Worlds, showing a gloomy, air-sealed settlement on the small gray planetoid identified as Apostae.
“After calling in a lot of favors and holding lengthy negotiations, we managed to secure a deal with the drow of Apostae to obtain a shipment of weapons. House Zeizerer arranged a deal between the Starfinder Society and House Xicton, a lesser drow house with a solid track record on sales. I personally oversaw the negotiations, and only recently returned to Absalom Station to deposit the down payment owed to House Xicton.”
“My intention was to send you to Nightarch, the drow’s surface settlement on Apostae, to guard this delivery. However,” Naiaj pauses briefly, staring blankly at the map on the wall before continuing, “I just received word that the weapon shipment has been stolen. According to my contacts in Nightarch, the thief is a minor noble of House Zeizerer named Villyth, who went rogue and stole the weapons. We do not know her motives or the current whereabouts of the shipment, but I’m sending you to Nightarch to find the weapons and bring them to Absalom Station. As you may have heard, the interhouse politics of the drow are lethal and treacherous, and you will find only trouble if you start searching blindly. For this reason, I’ve arranged for you to meet with Ceobarn Zeizerer, who represents House Zeizerer in this specific matter. You are to discuss how the Society can get its shipment back without causing a diplomatic incident."
“Your shuttle is ready, so I expect you to get your things and get going as soon as possible. If you have any questions, now is the time to ask.”
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Naiaj answer Id-Sinitis first.
"They, that is - House Zeizerer, are the most powerful drow household on Apostae, controlling the major surface settlement of Nightarch. They are demon-worshipers and arms dealers like the rest of them, but as far as drow houses go, they are quite reliable because they have a reputation to uphold. Complications like this are bad for the business. Our representative with them, Ceobarn Zeizerer, has always been blunt and up-front with me—how I prefer to handle most of my social interactions.”
Your coms units beep as Naiaj sends the manifest across to you all.
Thinking about the scenaio, some of you realise you may already know some useful things..
Nightarch is a metropolis of over 1,200,000 inhabitants, most of whom are drow elves. Their society is traditionally matriarchal, but contrary to popular belief, the gender divide is not backed by law; rather, it is a holdover from pre-Gap times. A drow man with enough contacts, cunning, and wealth may rise to positions of leadership, rivaling drow women in power.
The city has a sizable orc and halforc population, but they are treated as second-class citizens at best, and slaves at worst. Most orcs and halforcs are destined to live and die as mercenaries, or, as some drow houses prefer to put it, cannon fodder.
Weapons are Nightarch’s main export, and many drow houses are involved in arms trade. What most people don’t know is that there are thousands of miles of tunnels and numerous vaults of alien technology beneath the surface of Apostae. Many weapons designed in Nightarch are reverse-engineered from this technology
Of the many bizarre technologies that drow are known for, fleshwarping is perhaps the least understood. It involves mutations and magic to transform a humanoid creature into a hate-filled abomination. While originally a punishment, a more refined form of fleshwarping can be used to create augmentations which—while gruesome to behold—greatly enhance the individual’s physical qualities. In the most drastic cases of fleshwarping, the target often suffers from incredibly reduced intelligence, limiting the creature’s tactical acumen
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A gaunt damaya lashunta smoothly joins the group, dressed in a smartly fitted black business suit. His long, pale face, jet black hair and waxed mustache all lend him the aura of an uptight businessman, but the way his lips quickly quirk upwards in a grin suggests otherwise.
A closer look at his outfit reveals it to be more unsettling than at first glance. His earrings seem to be made of the preserved eyes of some alien beast, his bracelets and necklace are made of jagged and rusty-colored bones, and his suit's tie appears to be made of a patchwork of blood-stained military insignia from a variety of worlds.
He sweeps into a low bow to greet his new teammates. "A pleasure to meet you, my beautiful lambs. Sovyal Veigh." His voice is a low, throaty rumble that belies his rail-thin appearance.
To the venture captain, he smiles warmly and says "Naiaj, my dear, I am at your disposal."
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Upon hearing the extent of the mission they are about to undertake, his eyes begin to flash with excitement and he begins to twirl the end of his mustache vigorously. "Aha, to steal back stolen goods for the Good of the Society. And a shipment of weapons at that. A fine... fine task." He lapses into silent thought for a few moments as he contemplates what the cache might contain.
"Seeing as we are dealing with treacherous drow, I would certainly be happy to apply a just and equitable amount of treachery and lethality to the proceedings. But, of course, you mention some degree of diplomacy is required. What exactly are you referring to when you say 'diplomatic incident'?"
"These shipments... I assume they are sizable enough that we won't be able to 're-secure' them by hand. Can we expect a team, or help for the heavy lifting?"
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A man is seen nearby listening attentively to the instructions and to the various information being shared by everyone. Once everyone settles down a bit, he introduces himself.
"My apologies for the delayed introduction. My name is Mobius. Mobius Caslan. This here is my prized invention." He points to a contraption on his head. "I call her M.I.C.H. and she has been really helpful these past few missions. If you need any fixing or destruction," he points to a few of his explosives, "then just call on me."
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"“Like it or not, Apostae is not only a member of the Pact Worlds, but also the weapon capital of the solar system. Their firearms are high quality and come at reasonable prices. Despite their fearsome reputation, drow are generally as good as their word when it comes to selling and trading weapons.”
Naiaj gives you a hard look. "We need resupply, and by diplomatic, I mean impress the drow so they will continue to work with us."
To Sovyal she adds "Physical transportation is up for you to arrange when you recover the equipment. You'll be reimbursed for any reasonable expenses."
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What appears to be a small child scoots out from underneath a nearby table.
"Boo! My name is Twik - Formerly Corporate Agent for hire, now aligned with the Starfinder Society. They do seem to make regular use of my specific talents and I appreciate being not only busy but useful!....although taking advantage of my stature to clean out starship missile & torpedo tubes recently was not really what I had in mind.
He trails off as he reminisces before given a quick shake of his head to clear his thoughts. "Right. Anyway. Now seemed like a good time to introduce myself as we seem to be talking about something I'm reasonably adept at - Talking, Making Nice, Being Friendly and all that jazz. Never fear, the Halfling is here!!"
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A Tall Shirren in red armor walks in, "Hi there Ho there! Krombopulous Micheals is the name and shootin's the game, and with the society, game is good! haha thats little joke for ya." he listens the the Naiaj give the mission details before adding, "So get in, get our guns, don't screw up relations too bad and maybe bag this Villyth, sounds like a grand ole time!"
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Sovyal sweeps into another deep bow as the newcomers keep pouring in. "Wonderful. Truly. So very many fresh new faces to try their mettle against the vicious drow of Apostae. Well, the more... the... merrier. I'm certain Ceobarn of House Zeizerer will be impressed with our dedication, commitment, and I would be so bold, aptitude."
"And my dearest Naiaj, I understand you crystal clear!" He inclines his head to the Venture Captain. "We are to make sure Ceobarn is pleased with our handling of Villyth, so that the Society's weapons contracts are secure for the future. This will be, quite a... pleasant... excursion, I believe." He smiles in agreement with Krombopulos.
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The large vesk steps forward, having been silent thus far. "Yes. We must find weapons for the war effort. I believe I am here to help with the... heavy lifting." The vesk smiles. "We vesk are far superior in such difficult physical tasks. It's not your fault. It's just how you were born." He smiles at the group and pulls out his enormous heavy cannon, shining it. He looks to the captain. "The drow. Do they restrict the holding of weaponry or crime on this planet? Because this may get... ugly."
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"quite true there Swarmbait, when it comes to simple physical work, I know I can always count on some Vesks I find at the Space depot to do the work for cheap cheap. Now you want something done with finesse and efficiency? you need a Shirren, or if your on a budget, at the very least an Android." he says as he sizes up Hudathan, "You look like you'd be good at soaking up laser fire though, ya?"
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Hudathan stares hard at the shirren for a few moments. Other races have such odd ways of complimenting. He nods. "Yes, when invaders from other systems come knocking, all races must give their best. Vesk can't be the best at everything. Just most things." He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. "Aye, I'm mighty good at taking fire. And ending it."
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Naiaj scowls at Swambait's question. "Armor and weapons are not only permissible, but everything short of mandatory while wandering the city streets. Be sure to keep your wits about you as well as your blaster though.”
You are usherd from the VC and into your transport. The jourey takes a week and you achieve orbit around Apostae without incident.
As the shuttle approaches the dull gray planetoid, several fighters emerge from a hulking capital ship identified as part of the local fleet defense: the Blood Armada. These fighters whizz past like a swarm of angry wasps. The navigation computer lets out a blaring alert as the capital ship scans the shuttle, but soon after, the alert ends and the fighters fly back to the massive carrier. The shuttle descends into low-orbit, and several small settlements with sealed atmospheres come into view. Further out, beneath clouds of dust, several mile-wide blast doors, many large craters, and miles-deep crevices can be seen across the planetoid’s surface. The shuttle soars closer to Apostae’s surface, fast approaching the dark city of Nightarch.
The eponymous arch and various tower houses can be seen within the city limits. Nightarch’s vast spaceport is alive with hundreds of blinking red and purple lights, which guide the= shuttle into the gloomy capital of the drow.
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Sovyal leans forwards to peer out of a viewport. He hums in quiet appreciation for the sights of the city. "Delightful. They certainly have a sharp sense of style. And there's certainly something to be said for the grandeur of that arch. Although, do they really have to make everything so... sinister?"
Seeing the reactions of some of his new team, he strokes one end of his mustache. "Relax a little! There's no need to make this an ordeal, at least, not until our hosts force it to become one!" He raises an eyebrow "And I've heard there are quite the places here for fun."
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"Well isn't that a nice assortment of opinions. Know what it looks like to ole KM?" the Shirren asks as he double checks his air supply in his armor is full,"The planet I might get to kill a Drow, but more importantly, Its where the mission is, and its where I make my creds. Lets get going!" he says impatiently as he clicks the battery into his rifle and checks the charge on his leapers.
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Two drow meet you at your ship, providing cards that show they work for would Zeizerer. You are escorted through a labyrinth of air-filled, enclosed tunnels to Mileshadow, a tall corporate building owned by House Zeizerer. Up on the top floor of the building the guards open the door to a spacious office on the top floor of the tall building, and without even a hint of emotion, one drow barely mutters, “Wait here.” The greentinged windows in the room offer a majestic view over the gloomy Nightarch. Several statues and holographic devices depicting grinning fiends sit on shelves on the walls and on a darkwood desk at the far end of the room. A curious fixture reminiscent of a demonic spider looks down from the ceiling with many glistening eyes.
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Sovyal inclines a head in agreement to Twik. "Creepy, but impressive, no? I should think the whole point of covering their walls with all these fiends and fancy black statues is to create the exact reaction you're having right now." He smiles at the drow guards.
"ពិតជាកន្លែង។ តើបុរសល្អម្នាក់គឺជាមនុស្សល្អយ៉ាងណាដែរ?"
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Sovyal purses his lips in displeasure when the drow leave before he can practice his drow language skills on them. "Not the most cordial of servants, it seems."
When KM suggests telepathy, he responds with "Why certainly! Though I've heard that there are tools both technological and magical to intercept such speech. So let's not rely on it too much."
Sovyal waits patiently, straight-backed and with his arms folded behind him.
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ID-Sinitis looks around the room...it appears as a fairly standard office. After another couple of minutes a wall panel at the back of the office slides open, and a middleaged drow walks in and settles into a red armchair behind the desk. “I am Ceobarn Zeizerer.” He gives a nonchalant wave of his hand, and the demonic statue in the ceiling starts shedding a purple glow, illuminating the room. “I take it that your eyes haven’t adjusted to the light levels on Apostae. You are Naiaj’s Starfinders, correct? I heard about the shipment. A most unfortunate setback. Villyth has always been a troublemaker.”
After a brief silence, he spits, “But it is not our fault. House Zeizerer officially disowned her months ago. Why should I help you?”
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Sovyal steps up, one hand folded behind him while the other one strokes at the end of his mustache. It was important to take a firm tone with those used to politics. A very firm tone. Just to make sure they understood their consequences.
His expression stays cordial, but his voice drops to a cold rumble "Well, my lovely little spider, I hope you didn't come in here thinking you'd be able to scurry your way out of this one." He raises a hand to inspect his nails, narrowing his eyes as he does so. "You can disown whoever you like, but the deal that your House oversaw has gone bad, and you'd be a fool to think you don't hold any responsibility for it. You're not a fool, are you, little spider?"
"And besides... a whelp from your own House, going rogue, and you want to pretend you have nothing to do with it." He shakes his head slightly in disapproval. "I expected far better. Maybe the Society has no need to work with someone so terribly unreliable? And perhaps the Society might let others know that House Zeizerer is so weak that it can't secure such a simple business deal?" He raises his head, looking down on the sitting drow. "The Society has connections to ensure this news spreads. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
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"Magnus Chaal at your service. I do not know Villyth's end game but her actions are a slight to both the society and your house. Naiaj wants that shipment and we aim to please.
No family is perfect. There is usually someone that has to throw a monkey wrench into things. Naiaj does not blame you for Villyth's actions but hopes you will do the right thing and helping us resolve this situation quickly and quietly.
Without your assistance, we will have to start asking around for information on Villyth and her stealing from her own house. But we would rather be discreet about this so why not just point us in the right direction. Someone in your house should know where she would lay low. If you would like it, we could bring Villyth back to you."
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Ceobarn sighs in dismay at Sovyal tries to pretend to have contacts that he doesn't really have. Still, his face drains of colour as the implictaions that his house might not be a reliable trading partner sink in.
Magus steps forward, playing good cop. It doesn't come off as well as he hoped.
"Perhaps a little oil to help with the assistance?" he suggests. Clicking on a calcuator, the Solarian sees the figure of 300 credits suggestively displayed.
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Sovyal softens his tone once he sees that Ceobarn is suitably intimidated.
After Magnus speaks, he adds "It's in your interest in any case, little spider. After all, what better way to prove your worthiness to rise within House Zeizerer than for this matter to be handled quickly and cleanly."
"I understand that these days even the men on Apostae have a chance to seize power, if they're capable and they play their cards right."
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Twik, mostly quiet while his team attempts to get Ceobarn onside, eyes the dark elf shrewdly and speaks with Ceobarns voice....
You know.... you talk a big game but I think you secretly want us to deal with this matter as much as we do. We are a diverse group with many skills - I think we can handle it.
Then he winks at him...
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Id also shrugs in response to the drow's callous squeezing for money, nodding toward the Abraxan symbol. Of course, if you think trying to needle us for credits is going to go far with you, you might want to confer with the big boss downstairs. Clearly this interloper has deposed you as a source to be trusted. How does Abraxas like weak leadership, again?
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Twik notices that the search term "Villyth Zeizerer" is visible on the computer screen. It would seem that he is not totally indifferent to the situation at hand.
"[b]Very well. It is true that Villyth’s actions are bad for business and she must be stopped. On behalf of House Zeizerer, I grant you twenty-four hours of diplomatic immunity. Use this time to retrieve the weapons using whatever means you deem necessary. Here’s a document that proves you’re acting on my authority. If the situation requires it, kill Villyth. But rest assured, if you abuse the power I bestow you, there will be consequences. The drow never forget."
“I know Villyth well enough to know that she has guards and other defenses. The more you know, the less likely you are to walk into a trap. So use your twentyfour hours wisely. Remember that before the time is up, you must locate the weapons, plan your heist, travel to the location, get the weapons, and most importantly, get off my planet!”
He pauses "You've made a couple of good points. I'll provide you some help. Firstly I know a couple of informants. They might give you a good lead or two. Secondly the network here has heightened access to the infosphere. If you are looking online, I'll grant you access from here which may open some doors for you. Lastly, when you find Villyth... I have a house ATV to get to and from the hideout."
You quickly realise there are two distinct avenues of approach to tracking down the weapons - searching the net and searching the ground.
You can either stick together or split into two teams for your searching, but remember you have only 24 hours!