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by Mark Moreland
Prelude
For nearly 10,000 years, the mysterious elves of the Mordant Spire have guarded the ruins of lost Azlant, protecting the remnants of their former enemy’s civilization from plundering by the humans of the Inner Sea. Since its founding, the Pathfinder Society has been at odds with these strange, masked stewards, ever denied full access to one of Golarion’s richest sources of historical relics, forgotten secrets, and unimaginable wealth. Every few generations, however, the Decemvirate welcomes an envoy from the Mordant Spire to the Grand Lodge in Absalom to discuss a possible arrangement to allow them access to Azlant’s treasures. Such a meeting has recently concluded, and the elven diplomat, an enigmatic negotiator named Sephriel, prepared to return home to the Mordant Spire. He planned no simple journey. Under the ruse of remaining incognito during his voyage west, Sephriel requested passage on an unscrupulous smuggler’s vessel called the Throaty Mermaid, and Sephriel has set himself up to be murdered.
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You have spent most of the afternoon at The Unlucky Duck, interviewing for a job that called for - persons willing to become bodyguards during a voyage to Mordant Spire. At the bottom of that notice the 60 platinum sphinxes per person, has had the place crowded. Adding to make this process so long.
But finally the candidates have been narrowed down and each of you are taken to a back room to meet your new "temporary" employer.
As the door is opened by a slightly frighten barmaid you see a round table full of food and drinks, with chairs for everyone. The elf sitting across from the doorway stands as you enter and motions to the empty chairs.
"Please sit. Sit." he voices says slightly muffled by the wooden mask he wears. "I am Sephriel. And I am honored that you have excepted my offer. Please introduction, if you will."
Dressed in a simple shirt with ornate lamellar-bone arm and leg pieces this statuesque woman of late middle-age appears ravaged as if struck by a wasting disease: the skin on her face, neck and hands is taut and withered, her bones protruding unnaturally. Her white hair is braided and coiled about her head and a slim pipe sits in her mouth, wisps of smoke occasionally exiting her nose. She looks to be Varisian or Shoanti - perhaps a mix-breed, and she exudes an air of brusque nonchalance.
(Erina steps out from the crowd, bows formally and takes the offered seat. She looks about the room at the assembled ne'erdowells before fixing her prospective employer with her fiercest smile.)
Jekaterina Miann, at your service Master Sephriel. I have travelled far from my homeland to find just such a position. From Korvosa, to here, alone, and untouched. I am uniquely gifted with knowledge of the healing arts and the persuasive art of the heavy flail. Rest assured you may rely on me to keep you and those you travel with safe and sound.
(Diplomacy - +3 included)
Diplomacy - +3 included) 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Ouch! :p
This man is -clearly- a wizard. Possibly with more than one -Z-. He's only missing a pointy hat. Into his middle-aged spread, he's begun to thicken around the waist and hips, and his belly hangs over his belt just a bit, but he manages to still be fit and hale. His hair is thinning early into a very noticeable widow's peak, and the formerly jet black is beginning to see a few softening strands of grey. Still, he manages 'distinguished' rather than 'ragged', and his clothes are of excellent quality, with white robes bordered in red free of any stain or blemish. He's of classic Chelaxian ancestry with those dark eyes and neatly trimmed beard, but the accent with which he speaks is pure, educated, upper-class Absalom. His rather exceptional quality leather boots are also clearly new, and his rough-hewn quarterstaff still has a bit of sap on, so he's definitely a wizard, and definitely new, and he has a big fat blister from his new staff working wonders on the skin between thumb and forefinger.
"Soft" is a good word for him. So is "unsure". And possibly "Zaftig".
Bodyguard...? Hah hah. No. ... Mordant Spire...? Yes please!
"Fortenns Bigby, sir! Evoker Emeritus, Arcanamirium Absalom, top grades in practical abjuration and battle magic. You'll find me agreeable, adaptable, advantageous, and a-fficient. Hahah. Little joke. Arcanamirium humor. ... *ahem* Scholar and gentleman, I assure you. You'll find me versed on a wide array of topics and my magic second to none." The middle-aged man touches a finger to his forehead and flicks it like a little salute, smiling primly,
"My name is Kale. Moore. I can swing a sword."
While applicants were being evaluated, Kale stood near a window. He faced inside, but looked out often, giving the impression he'd rather be somewhere else. Many of the local applicants in the bar acknowledged him as they waited, but none stood with him for long.
Kale Moore looks like many of the other rough locals that applied for the job. Taller and leaner maybe. Definitely quieter and older than most. Gray has infiltrated his short dark hair at the temples, but it hasn't yet made an appearance in his thick mustache or the stubble on his chin and cheeks. But the skin on his face has the same drawn, weathered look as the others who spend so much of their time laboring in the sun. His equipment looks equally humble. His hide armor is water-stained in spots and his backpack has a couple patches sewn onto it.
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A young human who wears his hair and gear in the style of the elves of Kyonin walks into the room and finds a seat.
"I am Ro Tessu, formerly of Greengold," he says in a soft voice. "Now I wander as so many before me Seeking the Brightness."
When Sephriel gasps Ro elaborates.
"I have been raised and taught by the Kyonin. They saw something in me, I'm not sure what, but I was glad for their teachings."
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Sephrial nods and greets each of you in turn.
"I believe there is one more, still out in the main room." he says then rings a small bell.
The serving girl comes to the door and curtsies. "Please bring the last candidate in as quickly as you can, the boat leaves in a couple hours, and I have instructions and no time for repeating them." the masked elf says seriously enough to send the girl hopping.
"Bloody Hell, how was I supposed to know she was the ship owners daughter and he would choose that particular time to check his cargo?" Randall thinks to himself as he orders another tankard "bastards had me blackballed on almost every ship leaving port for the past month. Well, looks like that will change soon"
So lost in thought Randall almost doesn't hear his name called, finally on the third time it registers that someone has called his name. Straightening up he runs a hand through his wavy brown hair and looks at his reflection in the barroom mirror. "Not bad, Rand Ol' boy. Looks like you've put on a little weight being stuck here in port, but that should change once you get back out to sea."
Following the serving girl to the back room Randall doffs his cap as he enters "Begging your pardon, My Lord I was lost in thought. Midshipman Randall McNally reporting for duty, Sir."
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The masked elf nods in greeting as Randal makes his way to a seat.
"And so my protectors have gathered," he says in slight mirth.
He looks to each of you in turn and then nods to himself. "Yes you will all do. Before we make for the ship and then the Mordant Spire I will let you into the details of why I have hired on outside bodyguards."
Taking a deep breath the elf states simply, "I will be murdered on this trip before it is over. And I will need all of you to discover the identity of my soon to be killer."
"And so my protectors have gathered," he says in slight mirth.
For a moment, Kale starts to panic, worried that the elf recognized his true motive. He could care less about protecting his employer. He just wanted passage out of town. Some pay would be helpful, but he'd consider jumping ship at the Mordant Spire, wherever that was, if Sephrial was planning on coming back. As he continued speaking, however, Kale realized the elf's sarcastic phrase wasn't an accusation. The sigh he released under his breath nearly made him miss Sephrial's unusual revelation.
He tried not to look shocked. "Do you mean you think someone you're traveling with now is planning to kill you? Or do you expect an enemy is planning to intercept you along the way?"
"More importantly, if you know you're about to be killed, why don't you just invest in a few scrolls and guarantee your safety the entire voyage? A few rope tricks and you'll be safe the entirety of the journey. Better yet, invest in having a permanent version of the spell enchanted onto a rope and take it with you. Put it up under your bunk, or under a table, and no one will ever find you. Bring provisions for the journey and keep them in your pack. And at the VERY least, plan to get a good look at your pursuer, so when your corpse arrives, or fails to arrive, you can be raised, resurrected, or reincarnated, and betray your attacker or attackers to the rightful authority. Sign a letter to the sovereign diocese of your choice vowing ten years service as a dedicat, and that more than covers the cost of such powerful magic. Or work ahead of time on the same principal and send a clone in your place, and make your way under non-detection by alternate means to the Spire. In a world such as ours, such resources are always available for a price. I myself would even gladly give promise to find a way to return you to the realm of the living should you have need of tracking down the kind of unscrupulous cur who would dare commit a murder planned so obviously in advance that even the -victim- has prior knowledge!" Fortenns puffs in exasperation and illustrates his entire way through the brief tirade with rather expansive gestures, an obvious querulous look on his tired features.
Erina resists the urge to betray emotion. This Chelaxian and his talk of resurrection and *shudder* raising the dead. By Pharasma, why me? she thinks to herself. Again she ponders the cruelty of her goddess, to whom undeath was anathematic and an abomination, giving her the Mystery of the Bones! Personally, her own position was more elastic, but Pharasma was not known for her humour or laxness with regard to what she perceived as her property - all the dead souls of Golarion. Still, the Chelaxian meant well, and was obviously trying to help. He seemed knowledgable as well...
She smiles apologetically, and puts a hand on Bigby to soothe him.
I think what my friend here is saying is: if you know, why not stop it? Surely staying alive is preferable to uncovering your murderer after the event?"
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It is hard to tell with the stotic wooden mask on Sephriel's face but he may be smiling under it. "A reason I chose you Mr. Bigby. Should my assailant use magic I figured you were the man to have about. To answer a few of your questions and concerns, let me start at the beginning."
He takes a breath as if thinking a moment. "Many factions via for the right to explore the ruins on the island I call home. But before we allow any type of party to venture around the Azlanti ruins we must know they are of noble purpose. My trip home is under the guise of being secret when really the trip has been leaked to every faction across the Inner Sea. And now we are on the last leg and I believe it is now that if anyone wanted to they would strike. I can only trust outsiders who have nothing at stake but their pay to motivate them, to find out who is trustworthy and who is not."
He looks to each of you and nods as if pleased with his choices. "You will be paid when the Mordant Spire is reached. But only if you know who the assassin is and whom he works for, will you receive your full pay of a hundred platinum sphinxes. The pay will be less should you fail, but still enough to make your trip worth the experience."
"So Mr. Bigby I could hide away for the trip, but that would not serve my people's goals. And my murder will serve the greatest good in bring them closer to knowing who to trust in the outside world."
To Kale's question he shrugs and says simply. "I am unsure to the how or when but I believe it will be when we are out to sea."
"Uneasy as I am with this supposed sacrifice you are making of yourself, I will aid you in good faith as you have asked."
Erina thinks for a moment, calculating.
"You mentioned an assassin, and who "he" works for. I am curious - could the assassin be a woman? Or more specifically, are there any fellow travellers on our journey that you already suspect?"
Erina thinks again, quickly this time. "Moreover, in order to "protect you" we must needs be near you, though not at all times. To prevent suspicion that we are not more than hired steel, we might make our own ruses to stir the pot somewhat, to either flush the assassin ahead of time, earn their good grace, or ascertain other details of your untimely and distasteful demise."
She looks to her companions. "Ideas anyone? I myself can see if the ship we travel on will take me on as a "healer when needed" for the duration of the journey....."
A sudden sly feminine look of caprice comes over her sharp features. "Or, I could put myself about a bit, a lonely woman at sea in need of company."
"Or, I could put myself about a bit, a lonely woman at sea in need of company."
Kale is unable to disguise his bewildered disgust at the diseased-looking woman's suggestion. He was already angered by their host's irreverent attitude towards his own life. He turned to the man in the mask.
"You're right to pay us well, then. Some people have more respect for the gift of life they've been given. To throw it away just to find out who doesn't like you defiles the suffering of those we've already lost."
"If more than one faction wants you dead, you're only going to discover which one has the quickest blade. Tell us about these factions. What do they have to gain from your death?"
Fortenns also cringes at the wasted woman's "suggestion", just barely refraining from actually saying "Ew." But he nods quickly in concurrence with Kale's sharp observation. "Quite right, quite right. Knowledge is, quite literally, power. Tell us more about the situation and let us come up with a few means by which to lay trap for those who would see your red blood gone brown with air and age. Who has the means and by what motives would they seek to stop you and your faction?"
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Sephriel sighs through his masks and states simply. "I haven't any of the answer to those questions it is the reason behind this trip. We need to know who we can trust and who will take extreme measure to get what they want. You will need to find out who the murder works for even more than who it is."
"I have laid false trails with many of the different factions, all of who wish access to the ruins on the island. Each was set to that particular faction and each rumor made it clear that only by my not reaching the Mordant Spire alive could they hope to stop whatever falsehood they were told. Everything is set. I need only for the right people to unsure my death is not in vain. My life is not something I am throwing away, I assure you, Master Kale."
He turns then to Erina and says, "Catching whomever, he or she may be in the act will not truly do unless you walk in on them with a dagger already in me. Should we be to tight in our security than we will fail, if we are to lack than they may grow suspicious and we could fail. I know this is no easy task, but you must do your best to guard me for appearances sake, and yet lack enough to allow a culprit to show their hand."
Erina nods her head in understanding.
"Then surely we will fail to protect you, and yet in so doing, hope to serve you best in the aftermath, if we discover your successful enemy. A fine predicament you place us in, my lord. May we do you justice."
"Is there a contact at the Mordant Spire who knows your plan? I don't want to be held liable for failing to protect you on your way home when we get there."
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...Should we be to tight in our security than we will fail, if we are to lack than they may grow suspicious and we could fail. I know this is no easy task, but you must do your best to guard me for appearances sake, and yet lack enough to allow a culprit to show their hand."
"It is no easy task indeed," Ro comments as he shifts in his seat. "Perhaps we should appear as an entourage of some sort. A healer for an illness you get while traveling, a bodyguard, an advisory, a personal cabin boy. Anyone have an idea?" he asks not use to using a chair and still squirming a little.
Did we lose someone already?
Erina smiles and nods at the Kyonin-styled human."My thoughts ran thus when I proposed a slight masquerade as a healer or(pointedly baring her teeth in a sarcastic smile at Fortenns and Kale) a desperate ugly trull. Perhaps we can gain a small advantage by employing an equal subterfuge to that of our enemy." She turns to Rand, to see what he thinks. He has been quiet since entering, only to find him gone.
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"He's gone?" Sephriel says casting about. "Hmm... I wonder if he was working for one of the factions? I didn't wish to have everything revealed before we left port, but it seems I am getting ahead of myself."
He stands and says, "Ready yourself we leave tonight an hour after dusk. I will answer anymore questions you have on board our ship, The Throaty Mermaid."
Turning he leaves to the adjoining chamber his robes rustling as he walks.
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The boat leaves on it's two week trip just after sundown as Sephriel keeps up his deception of trying to go unnoticed. Once aboard ship you are given a room in the forward hold to share, while Spehriel takes over the captain's lodgings in the aft deck.
For six days the trip has goes along peacefully and everyone aboard the Throaty Mermaid seems to keep to themselves. No one visits or even tries to visit Sephriel who stays has stayed in his cabin the whole time only coming out at night for fresh air, when there are the least amount of sailors about.
The group has caught a few conversations here and there and garnered a few names to put to faces but not much else.
On the evening of the seventh day Sephriel invites everyone into his cabin to share dinner. The stew is not the greatest, but is hot and fills the stomach, just what you would expect having a female dwarf as the ship's cook.
Sephriel doesn't eat or drink, keeping his wooden mask firmly in place, and Thanzeril stands attentive behind his master waiting to be needed. "Have you seen anything suspicious," he asks worriedly. "I think all this waiting will unnerve me and drive me to my death faster than any blade."
Captain Veane (human, male) - A good captain, not overly strict, he believes a man will work harder when he knows his part is appreciated and not taken for granted. His men do love him.
Marzack Mallick (human, male) - The opposite side of the coin from the good captain, and first mate. He is usually the one who has to administer punishments and normally finds fault in everything everyone does. He doesn't mind as you could almost say he were captain for the way he dishes out orders even when Veane is on deck.
Anera (human, female) - The ships boatswain. She has not said a word the entire voyage but has given Sephriel and Thanzeril the meanest of looks whenever they are on deck.
Killik (human, male) - Is the ship's doctor. He is also more pirate than most pirates charging for his services, even among the crew, to his time if someone asks to have a word with him.
Azuretta (half-elf, female) - It isn't fully know what Azuretta's role on the ship is, except keeping the captain's bed warm most nights.
Ulamon (human, male) - The ships navigator. He has been known to grumble about the how he hates that they are playing passenger ship for the "smelly elven bastards".
Shira (female, dwarf) - Ships cook and not the greatest at it.
Thanzeril (male, elf) - Sepriel's body servant. And an elf of very few words.
"I've seen a couple dirty looks cast in your direction, but I should hope a professional assassin would be less obvious. If anyone could get friendly with the captain, maybe we could find out if any members of the crew have joined recently?"
Having prepared his one available spell for dealing with possible assassination, Bigby insists he be present at every meal to check for poisons. While not doing that, he helps out around the ship with a few well placed prestidigitations, including cleaning, shining, and if need be, flavoring. He's moderately likeable, particularly for a middle-aged guy going to pot-belly, but he's no bard. He even tries cozying up to Azuretta, but stumble-tongues his way into sweating palms and dry-mouth. She's his best suspect for the deed, and also, more fun to watch.
"Oh I've been working the crew here and there... did you know Seaman Ponder is having a baby in the next few months? True. He's eager to return to port after this voyage, as his wife thinks it'll be a girl. As for new members, there's let's see, um..."
"I've tried to get close to Anera: as the boatswain she is in charge of many of the day-to-day operations on the ship. She does seem to regard you with disfavour and isn't exactly forthcoming. At any rate, here's what I found..."
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The cantrip used by the wizard to check Sephriel's food turns up a weak poison at every meal. Figuring out what it is is easy enough, but the weakened state of it is the enigma. It would take someone four to six months to kill someone poisoning them this way. And after some discrete checking the past couple days Mr. Bigby has detected it in everyone's bowl he has come across.
Having brought a little of his own food the elf shares it with the others but it is running out and with a week left in the trip the group may need to start eating the lightly poisoned gruel or dip into their own rations.
Finding a moment when she can talk to her fellow employees away from Sephriel and his servant Erina outlines her thoughts. "If the poison being administered takes a long time before it is effective then perhaps Thanzeril is staging a long-term assassination of his master. Alternatively Shira is merely a bad cook and is unknowingly poisoning everyone."
Since nobody better suited to the task volunteered, Kale tries to build a rapport with the captain himself. He introduces himself and tells him: "I've worked on the docks almost my whole life, often as a dock foreman. I know the value of hard work. You've got a good crew here. Have they been with you long?"
While discussing the poisoned food with the others, Kale agrees with Erina: "I think you could be right that the poisoning's unintentional. Fortenns, we should check the kitchen and see if we can find the poison there."
Between Fortenns detection of the poison and Erina neutralization of the poison, they can guarantee their food and drink will be safe for everyone! This earns Erina a high-five. "Hah! Divine Magic! Some days there's just no substitute! Well done, m'lady. Heehee! He also takes the time to surreptitiously scan the kitchen stores, the food in the hold, and the captain's meals. It's a cantrip. He can use it ad infinitum.
"I had -exactly- the same idea, Mister Moore! I've already taken the liberty of trying to lend a hand in the kitchen." Grin!
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Sense Motive: The boatswain must have had some bad dealings with elves in the past. She doesn't know Sepriel personally so it has nothing to do with whatever plans he made before the trip.
Diplomacy: The captain has no time for pleasantries and actually hates dock hands. He calls them "Sailors afraid of the sea."
Anyone who has tried to go to the kitchens has been chased out by a one-eyed, sore-toothed dwarf. The poison is in everyone's food. Fortenns could scan everyone's bowls while he walks on deck. They all have the same weak poison in them.
"I will have to stop eating the food from the cook," Sephriel says with a hint of relief. "If someone poisons me to death then finding out who it was and who they work for will be very difficult."
The group has found out little the past week from the tight lipped crew, but plan on a more diligent search tomorrow. Bidding Sepriel goodnight they leave his cabin to speak as a group up on deck.
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Mario Nedraid, perched in the formast fighting top, carefully looked around for anybody watching before puttin a drop of rum from his flask into his mug. Wouldn't do to be caught drinking on duty. Good thing he didn't get drunk often, he just didn't have the money to do a proper job.
Holding a stay by one hand, he leaned out over the rail as he scanned the horizon for anything like a threat. He took a sip and grinned at the pleasant taste as it rolled down his throat.
Perception:
Initiative:
Kale makes his way up on deck, frustrated by the lack of progress the group was making in their investigation. He looks around for a place the group can talk discreetly.
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The sun is about halfway to setting as the group stands out on deck speaking of what to do next. The wind is light abd the sky only slightly overcast when suddenly the bosun yells out.
And then all around the group the deck erupts into chaos as little blue squid-goblins jump over the railing and onto the deck. Sailors draw weapons and prepare to fight off the invaders.
"To arms! To arms send this bastards back into the sea!" the captain yells from the aft castle drawing his blade.
Stealth DC
Ro Perception
INIT
Fortenns 19
Kale 13
Mario 12
Erina 3
Ro
monsters(even)
monsters(odd)
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Ro Tessu quickly draws an arrow and sends it streaking at the closest grindylow.
The arrow hits the railing in front of the creature and it hisses back at the bowman showing rows of sharp shark-like teeth. Each creature holds what looks like a spear made of coral or from shipwreck salvage.
Spells and Conditions:
None
Initative Order:
Ro - attack:
Fortenns - IS UP
grindylows(odd) -
Kale -
Mario -
grindylows(even) -
Erina -
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COMBAT MAP: HERE
Digit gives an angry hiss and leans forward to shriek at the approaching squiddy-gobs from Fortenns' shoulder. The mage draws a dagger and drops back between his friends to defend himself, devoting all attention to staying safe. Squishy caster is squishy! His knife weaves in a threatening manner and he swipes at any goblin who gets near, just trying to keep the little bastards-of-the-sea away from him.
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The small blue creatures swarm over the sides of the Throaty Mermaid and join combat with the group and crew.
Two creatures savagely spear Ro Tessu and the monk goes down to the deck. Gleefully the creatures start to stab at the prone figure.
One grindylow targets Erin and sends it's spear straight at her. The spear arcs through the air and pierces her thigh biting deep.
Mario is beset by a creature and it uses one of it's tentacle like legs to pull the man off his feet. As he falls a spear slices through his side drawing first blood.
grindylow#1 - 5'step(E-2); attack melee(Ro) - trip attempt
dmg -
grindylow#3 - 5'step(G-2); attack melee(Ro) - trip attempt
possible crit -
dmg (no crit) -
dmg (if crit) -
grindylow#5 - 5'step(L-2); attack range(Erin)
dmg -
grindylow#7 - 5'step(M-5); attack melee(Mario) - trip attempt
dmg -
Spells and Conditions:
Ro - prone
Mario - prone
Initative Order:
Ro - attack: miss
Fortenns - 5'step; draw dagger, total defense?
grindylows(odd) - varies see above
Kale - IS UP
Mario -
grindylows(even) -
Erina -
Kale draws his longsword and swings at one of the grindylows with both hands. However, his sword only slices into the rail.
5-ft step to G5
attack grindylow #4:
damage:
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AC 17
HP 7 (63%)
Status: Prone
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Shocked that these things got that close without him seeing them, Mario shouts a shipwide alarm.
"Alarm! Boarders! Alarm!"
He is so not looking forward to explaining this to his captain...
-- Rolls to his feet from prone.
-- Draws rapier.
Acrobatics:
Mario give a silent sigh of relief. At least he didn't spill his drink.
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Kale hits the deck next, the squid like tentacle tripping the warrior.
Ernia takes a spear to the thigh but manages to avoid the squriming tentacles of the creature.
Mario finds himself ganged up on as another one of the grindylows joins the first.
grindylow#4: 5' step(I-5) attack Erina - - trip
DMG -
grindylow#6: 5' step(L-5) attack Mario - - trip