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Khellek sits back at the table. His lecture, this year on the Shining Crusade and the sociological impact of the Crusade and how it has echoed down through the ages had gone down particularly well. He was looking forward to a little feasting, as his stipend from the university barely covered his lodgings, and the food was quite marvelous.
The fourth and final day of training has come to a close at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, heralding the end of this year’s Torchbearing. Pathfinders the world over attend this annual symposium to share their knowledge, teach each other new skills, and reinforce their connections across the Inner Sea and beyond. To celebrate the end of festivities, the lodge has hosted a grand banquet in the visiting agents’ honor. A refreshing winter breeze blows through an open window, flickering torches and sending papers scattering. The smell of freshly baked desserts fills the air while initiates clear away the remnants of the first course.
The Three Masters, as well as other justly famed agents, have been teaching a wide variety of classes, from Golarion's history to spellcasting techniques, to more hands-on activities like obstacle courses and even a triathlon!
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Leaning across the table, Khellek takes a tidy serving of an exotic dish, before confiding "Apparently the three masters use the Torchbearing to keep an eye out for talent, and especially those who Explore, Report, Cooperate. I'm sure they have an eye on me. Promotion for my latest essay on the influences of the Mwangi tribesman on the developments in that part of the world over the last three hundred years is surely top of their mind."
He chews delicately. "And I've seen no sign of that laborious Dr Jones this Torchbearing- such a glory hound. No, without him muddying the waters, I'm sure they will be looking to present me with a special wayfinder at the end of this years event."
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Clearly energized by the excitement of the Torchbearing, a young halfling bounds up to the table to clamber into one of the open chairs. "Hello Mister Khellek! I'm Leena!" She smooths her vestments self-consciously , jostling the butterfly of Desna strung around her neck. The soft clink of chain can be heard underneath the tabard that is clearly a little too big. "And Mister Phoenixstar, I read your chronicle about that cult in Taldor. Nasty stuff!" Her smile shifts into a comical expression of disgust. "I've had a wonderful time learning from everyone, especially the lectures on spell theory with Master Shaine. Even if he is a little hard to follow."
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"Hello! Are we having fun? Last time I was on a Torchbearing ceremony, it was dull... Almost no one was drinking as they should, are there any fervent follower of the Drunk God among us? -Chock starts looking around for a place to fill his waterwineskin-
"Master Shaine a font of wisdom? A bit more on the self centered end of the bin, if you ask this northern archer."
The feast begins to wind down, but as you conclude the dessert course, a small origami swan flutters through the room and lands on the center of the table.
In moments, it unfolds itself into a crisp and creaseless piece of paper bearing the words of Ambrus Valsin:
"Pathfinders,
My apologies for interrupting your feast, but Nigel Aldain has just informed me that there is trouble at the Blakros Museum. Once your bitter laughter has subsided, let us continue.
Nigel says it can’t wait until morning. We don’t want to jeopardize our relationship with the Blakros Family, so we will do what we can to aid him. Please gather your gear and meet in the main hall within Skyreach.
I will give more instructions then.
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin"
act independently, but when trouble befalls the museum, he often turns to the Society for help.
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"Ahh, the Blackros family. I've often wandered their magnificent museum." says the scholar, happy to talk on a favourite subject.
"They are among the wealthiest and most well known merchant families from Taldor. They own a variety of businesses with interests all over the Inner Sea. For years, the Pathfinder Society and the Blakros family have been allies, even if only at arm’s length. Occasionally the family invites notable Pathfinders to one of its high-society affairs."
He looks around the table, wondering if anyone has been invited to such an endeavour. "Of course, the Blakros family has been involved with some shady organizations during its rise to power, including the Onyx Alliance and House Thrune..."
Happy to display his knowledge, he continues on about the museusm.
"The Blakros Museum is located in the Wise District, owned by the Blakros family, and curated by Nigel Aldain (a former Pathfinder). It is open to the public when an exhibit is on display. Though the exterior of the building is ugly and squat, patrons marvel at how much bigger it is on the inside. The museum has been closed for the past several months, ramping up for a huge exhibit, “Legacy of the Shining Crusade,” opening next week - I hope to see it when the crowds die down. Rumors suggest that shadow magic makes the inside of the museum larger. A few years ago the inside changed drastically, which drew the curiosity of many in Absalom. But I think such things are unlikely."
He thinks a bit further. "Though the relationship between the Society and Nigel is often strained, they remain steadfast allies. Nigel often collaborates with the Society, loaning artifacts and trading information. He has obsessively researched the Shining Crusade for the past several months. Nigel is a former Pathfinder who resigned after marrying Dhrami Blakros; the position of curator was part of his marriage contract. Nigel’s museum has suffered many mishaps since he became curator, which the Society has regularly helped clean up. Nigel still tries to distance himself from the Society and act independently, but when trouble befalls the museum, he often turns to the Society for help."
He takes a long drink of his tea after finishing his tales.
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A lanky, wisp thin elf with prominent elven features; pale skin, eyes so blue they almost look black, long straight hair of very pale yellow, and of course long pointy ears darts into the room just as Venture Captain Valsin calls for the Pathfinders to meet in the main hall.
Did I miss the meal? He says a bit confused by the commotion. He grabs a couple of sticky buns as he follows the rest of the crowd. He wears rough-spun leather clothing, in shades of brown and green, over a shiny breastplate. He also wears long brown leather boots, a dark green woolen cloak, and a long bow of fine darkwood over his shoulder.
Spotting Khellek, he heads over to the historian, Khellek, hey, I haven't seen you since the snows of Irrisen? I must say you look just the same.
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"Didn't you head off on a mission with that woefully under-educated paladin? Honestly, she'll never make anything of herself if she prioritizes eating over reading and writing."
He sighs. "I had to stand over her half the trip back from Tien." a look of dismay crosses his face at the memory.
"And she left sticky fingerprints all over my 2nd edition copy of "Noble families of Taldor 6230 to 6242""
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"AM I LATE!?" An 11-foot-tall, giant, uneducated, teenager, made out of spare elbows and knees, and wearing the attire of a senior paladin squire of Shelyn (third class) barges into the hall and looks mournfully over at the mostly empty buffet table.
She visibly deflates (down to about 5'4" you suspect).
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Khellek's face pales at the entrance of Apollyanna. He sinks down in his chair, hoping that surely the three masters would not be so unkind as to put this particular pupil at his table. Again.
"Why me? What did I do?" he quietly asks the uncaring void above the table top.
With an in drawn breath he says, slightly louder "No later than that history essay."
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A wide grin crosses Lannior's face, although you don't know if it's for joy or if he is just uncomfortable. He shakes Leena's hand Nice to meet you. He notices the other assembled Pathfinders as well and gives the Ulfen and Half-elf a respectful nod. Greetings I'm Lannior.
He then turns to Paladin, Ah, Apollyanna, it seems we can not stay out of each others way. After we parted in Varisia, I must say I am surprised to see you here in Absalom. He looks a little disappointed, but adds I did feel we were getting on better toward the end of that debacle in Magnimar. At least the Roses prevailed that day! with Prisim the hero of the day, and at least we both adore her.
Now then what's about the Blakros family? I've heard of them, but never had the pleasure.
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The front doors of Skyreach burst open with a loud crack. Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin strides to the edge of the platform, with a slender elf dressed in practical but expensive clothing trailing meekly behind. The red-faced venture-captain addresses the crowd in a booming voice.
“Pathfinders, I regret interrupting the festivities, but we have something of a situation. Approximately twenty minutes ago, unknown forces invaded the Blakros Museum. Fortunately for everyone involved, the Torchbearing is about cooperation and helping our colleagues, so let’s think of this less as an inconvenience and more as an opportunity to practice what we preach.”
The elf, Nigel, exhales sharply, then speaks, “Now, Ambrus, I’ve spent a king’s ransom fortifying the museum from all sorts of invaders: sentinels from the Golemworks, magical wards from the Arcanamirium, and even contracts for guard beasts, both magical and mundane—spared no expense. I didn’t want to come here, but I’ve got no choice.”
Valsin’s forced smile cracks slightly, showing his annoyance. “Out with it, Nigel. Get to the point.”
“Someone broke into my museum and set off the magical protections! I was preserving priceless Shining Crusade pieces for our new exhibit when the first alarm activated. I sent for district guards and went to investigate, but by the time I arrived, the thieves had already locked themselves in my study. They somehow caused the Shining Crusade relics to fly around the museum and attack my sentinels. Everything is going haywire! The magical traps started to target me, the sentinels are not responding to my commands, and—”
Valsin holds out a hand to steady the increasingly agitated elf. “The last you knew, the thieves were still in your study?” Nigel nods. “Very well. Pathfinders: the Seekers should prepare to teleport directly into the Blakros study—“
“That won’t work,” Nigel interrupts, “The study is magically sealed. After that dreadful Numerian exhibit, I turned it into a magical safe room. The robbers must have figured out how to activate it; no one can get in or out while the wards hold. I can work on breaking the wards, but meanwhile my sentinels are smashing up the collection. Some of those priceless relics are on loan from your own Society lodges, so helping me is really helping yourselves.”
“Fine.” Ambrus Valsin takes a deep breath and then turns to the assembled Pathfinders. “Pathfinders, go to the Blakros Museum, secure any relics you can, disable the security systems, and apprehend the looters if possible. Stay safe.”
Dozens of Wise District guards surround the Blakros Museum. The sergeant nods to Ambrus Valsin as he approaches, a subtle smirk dancing across the venture-captain’s face. The museum itself is alight with swirling whorls of color and the sounds of metal and stone clashing. Occasionally, brief flashes of light burst from the front entrance, illuminating a toppled banner that says “Legacy of the Shining Crusade.”
The sergeant, a round-shouldered Ulfen man hurries over to you,
Ah good. Some folk who might actually solve a problem instead of just whinge about it. We made a push inside to try to sort matters out, but it's chaos in there. Animated relics, guard animal, some sort of clockwork contraptions, and of course Mr. Aldain's fancy new magical security wards back along the side have gone berserk as well!
I'm not going to lose any more men, at least until the crazies already in there wear each other down.
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"Much as long delayed reunions are a delight." says the scholar dryly.
"Perhaps we should repair to the main hall and see what the leadership has in mind for us?"
"'Repair' it? Aren't there workmen for that sort of thing?"
Already moving at a run, sword in hand, you hear Apollyanna shout back: "You heard the man there are people in danger in there! Let's go!"
Hanging from the girl's back is a golden mask. If masks could get embarrassed, roll their eyes, and shrug and then say: "Whatcha goin' to do?" that's what this one would be doing. But it's just a golden mask, right?
Then it winks at Khellek--or at least seems to him to do so.
Apollyanna kicks in the door on a fantastic display in substantial disarray.
Under a sign that reads “The Shining Armory,” priceless Shining Crusade artifacts displayed on pedestals creak and move by some unseen force. Eerie light seems to dart between the shifting objects while the din of a raging battle echoes throughout the chamber.
The central feature is a low, artificial hill atop which stand two stuffed owlbears surrounded by shattered undead foes. Each of the beasts wears chainmail barding and an orange-and-black caparison depicting a stylized owlbear.
A dead man dressed in furs lies on the floor before a suit of fullplate armor, a weakly twitching sword still piercing his chest.
More aggressively flapping, however, are two banners bearing the blessed insignia of the Shining Crusade that start stretching towards you as soon as you approach the room!
Chock
Daereon
Leena
Banners
Lannior
Apollyanna
Khellek
Unfortunately, Leena's spell finds no spark of life to rekindle.
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"So shoot them full of holes, 'til they can't stand float? The usual! That [larger]I[/larger] can do!"
Chock takes a step forward into the room, removes the longbow from his elbow and pulls two arrows from his quiver, just realizing he won't have enough time to shoot twice, he aims for the banner with the red border.
Chock's arrow easily pierces the folds of one of the flags as his companions take in the scene.
The flags float higher, stretching out their fly-ends to capture the warriors to the front.
Chock is able to dodge out of the way, but, though she is able to wriggle free from its grasp, Apollyanna is buffeted by the banner.
Chock
Daereon (May take two turns)
Leena
Banners - 2 squares up (Red -7)
Lannior
Apollyanna 9nl
Khellek
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Khellek looks at the banner, trying to work out if they have any vulnerabilities or weaknesses.
"Take heart dear friends. The Shining Crusade stood firm against terrors of the night and beyond the stars. What we face here is merely cloth flapping in the wind."
He loads "Bessie" his crossbow, but doesn't have the time to fire her...just yet.
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These things are animated in ways similar to the undead. Positive energy may harm them.
Apollyanna goes through a series of twirls, and holy symbol flourishes, finishing by raising her holy symbol and shouting: "GORGEOUS CHARM OFFENSE!"
She looks around, and disappointed by the results bangs the base of her holy symbol on the door frame.