A smallboy cautiously runs into the warm and spacious room within which several pathfinders are hanging about, relaxing, talking, and otherwise spending time. Finding several less-than-busy pathfinders, the boy walks up to each to hand them a note.
The note seems to be from the Venture Captian Drandle Dreng reads,
To those pathfinders currently between missions, please meet me at the corner of Wending Wyre Way and Branchingsford Street. The boy will guide you here if you need him to.
VC Dreng
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Sirius Löwenhaupt is a rather average sized young man with a rather slim stature. He has inherited the rather elfish looks of his mother, especially the pointy ears and the azure blue eyes of his father. He has white skin and very long hair in the colour of freshly honey, and usually wears egshelled clothes made of ostrich leather and linnen.
In battle he wears a chainmail of elfish origin and a bardiche.
His voice is a very deep, yet smooth pearly tone.
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Moving to the corner of Wending Wyre Way and Branchingsfore Street, Sirius looks first left, then right, checking for any friendly facesand finally leaning on his polearm, waiting on the Dreng to arrive.
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Seeing the note, P'aqha wonders whether she should go or not.
Never having been on a mission, she is not between missions. But if she does not do this, she never will be on a mission, thus never between any so... oh, well, darn: she exits, and asks around until she finds the corner of Wending Wyre Street and Branchingsford Way. No, wait... well, anyhow, here she is!
With her light green skin, emerald eyes, and seaweed-green hair, P'aqha is most obviously a Gnome, one with more powerful ties to the Fey world than most Gnomes, even.
A bandolier across her chest carries several alchemical flasks, and she has some leaf-armor under her light clothes. Other than that, she only boasts a spell component pouch at her belt.
She looks around: "Mr. Dreng? MR. DRENG?! Are you here?"
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A lithe Tengu man already stands against the far street giving him a good view of the entire intersection and nearby stores. His feathers are jet black with streaks of ocean blue running down his arms and he is dressed in fine leather with many pouches and pockets. Even though he is constantly watching everything he gives off a sense of ease as he chats with the group arriving obviously looking for someone.
"Taizen, not Dreng, is glad to meet each one of you and I hope to learn your stories on our new travels." Taizen says warmly to no one specific.
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A tall broad shouldered half-orc with paler-than-usual gray skin and prominent tusks approaches the group. He is clearly old for a half orc and wears regalia indicating that he served in the 33rd Mendevian Foreign Legion during the Third Mendevian Crusade.
He wears smoked goggles to keep people from seeing his eyes - whether this is due to him being blind or what is unclear but it is clear from the way he walks that he has not had a proper nights rest in quite some time. His voice is slow and deliberate, as though he has thought hrd about each syllable before uttering it.
Hovering over his shoulder is a translucent green woman dressed like an archetypal witch who seems to be communicating in barely audible whispers, whispering atrocities and guilting Londo from over his shoulder.
Very well boy, lead. Perhaps today is the day my journey toward redemption can finally begin.
The walk to the meeting point is dreary as there is a light rain, grey overcast sky, and as you get near, there doesn't seem to be anyone around in this part of the city.
As you arrive at the corner, you are left to wonder where VC Dreng is as the only others here are each other, some lead by the boy, and others, having taken their route, arrive shortly after.
There isn't much of wait before an old beggar ambles up to the group "Spare a few coins?"
After but a mere moment, without waiting for you to respond, the beggar suddenly pulls back the hood enough to reveal his face. Under that disturbingly dirty, soaked, and cabbage smelling exterior is VC Dreng!
“Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?”
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.” He pulls out a map from a buried pocket showing the Wounded Wisp's location in the Foreign Quarter, and hands it over. Then continuing on without pause, “The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
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The young man, dressed in what would not be considered civilized clothing enters into the area. At his side is a scimitar and he carries a staff. Next to him, a small dinosaur runs to and fro, investigating things with chirps. I apologize for my tardiness. Anzu and I, it seems were a little delayed in our Confirmation. I am Amaron Blackthorn and my companion is Anzu.
VC Dreng looks sternly at Taizen's comment "Don't tempt fate. Fate doesn't need to be a god or even a being to harm you or those around you. Be happy with the occasional mundane tasks and you just might become an old pathfinder."
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P'aqha smiles, and curtseys before the Sylvan greeting: "Well met!.
Slipping her pack around to the front, she opens it, and lets a white-as-snow fox out, with only a dash of black on its tail: "And this is Atuq. Come on sleepy head, time to trot along".
Some may recognize an arctic fox, but it is a very beautiful one, so healthy vibrant, and full of life.
"Come on fellows, let us set out on mundane tasks with a spirit of cooperation!".
Dreng exclaims, "Right. Off you go then." Then turning to the boy, "Come on, I need you to do something." as he and the boy melt into the shadows of the street (in a very mundane way).
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Looking around as she crosses the Foreign Quarter, taking in the sights, P'aqha spots the Wounded Wisp, and waves to her companions: "Here we are!".
P'aqha goes up and enters the tavern, bowing as she goes in, scanning the room to see what is going on, and if she can spot this fine lady Heryn Gale behind the bar.
Through the dreary streets, Sirius leads the group quickly and easily to the Wisp, easily recognized by the lantern hanging from the sign, the dark and discolored wooden walls looking even gloomier in the soft light of the overcast sky. The stained and barred windows prevent sight of the inside, but a dirty glow emanates from one of the windows.
Opening the door, P'aqha, followed by everyone else, enters a hallway with various trinkets and awards on the wall donated by various Pathfinders and a coat check, manned by a gangly half-elven girl that seems blissfully unaware of the acrid smell of smoke and spilled ale wafting in from the open end of the hallway. She quickly turns and smiles at the newcomers, a few glowing sparkles quickly disappearing behind her. "Welcome to the Wounded Wisp! Did you want me to hold anything here during your visit?"
Walking into the large room, the sound assaults your ears as there are a number of people hanging around.
Heryn Gale is behind what looks almost like makeshift bar, as the bar sits on barrels. Stools are lined up at the bar, of which most are occupied.
As the party calls out to her, "Ah, here for Dreng's package. Yes, I'm Heryn, but you'll need to wait a few minutes for Carnlyn to get back. Take a seat if you like."
As Londo seats himself in the back, the man in the chair next to him, despite facing a different table, turns and greets Londo, "You found the Wisp I see. That's good. This a great place to find advice from fellow pathfinders. Are you waiting for another mission, or just exploring?"
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Taizen follows along with the group and when arriving at the bar he shakes his head at the girls question for checking anything.
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Taizen lights up when seeing the tavern and all the various adventurers. He looks around for anything exceptionally interesting.
Heryn gets everyone drinks while answering P'aqha, "She is my assistant. She is getting a few supplies. I can't leave the bar unattended, so we have to wait for her to get back so I can leave the bar. Shouldn't take too long though."
The man Londo is speaking to replies dramatically, "Ah, where are my manners. I'm Aram bin Kaleel, proprieter of Kaleel's Curiousities, and fellow Pathfinder. Don't worry about Dreng. His errends need done by someone, and it usually makes for a good chance to learn something. You never know when some small detail will end up saving your life. How to open bear traps for example. Anyway, what is your name?" The last comment sounds much like a comment made from experience.
He smiles nodding a hello to each Londo and Sirius, and seems to genuinely enjoy answering Londo's question, "Depends on the type, but the most common one has big springs that need to be pushed down. Of course, the largest are powerful enough that even standing on the springs isn't enough to compress them. For those, you might need some friends and a bit of magic." he continues on about other types of bear traps and open them, unless stopped by a question or interruption.
In one corner, you have a couple boisterous half-orcs playing a card game with a couple halflings while discussing a few "fun times" they've had as Pathfinder muscle.
On the other side of the room a sizable group has gathered to listen to a halfling colorfully recite tales of Durvin Gest.
There is also a table with an older human man reading an old-looking book.