"That's a little beyond me at the moment, although there are ways." Iris noted. "Disintegration magics take a great deal of power, though, so I doubt it's what your friend was subjected to. Give me a few moments to take care of something, and then we'll go investigate this pavilion."
The halfling jumps in surprise as you summon Sorathel (who leaves for the meeting with your bag) but doesn't seem unduly surprised. She's decided that you're exceptionally skilled in the magical arts, after all, so such feats are doubtless commonplace for one of your stature.
At first glance, the pavilion looks only like a rather-stereotypical fortune-teller's tent. There's a crystal ball, a few cheap tapestries depicting a moonlit landscape, a stuffed raven on a perch, a battered deck of harrow cards, and a lit silver candelabra that dimly illuminates the small space.
"Was there anyone here when you first arrived?" Iris inquired as she carefully examined the area, starting by looking for trapdoors or anything else that might quickly drop someone out of sight.
"Just the Harrower," the halfling replies. Your preliminary look doesn't reveal any obvious hidden areas. If there is something here, it's either extremely-well-disguised or magically concealed.
"And where are they now? This is a festival, and they'd usually be here at their booth." Iris noted. The fact that they weren't was interesting, although it could be as simple as stepping out to get a bite or a drink. Most stall keepers didn't like leaving things unattended, though, if only to deter theft.
You're correct: the Harrower's absence is decidedly unusual. There isn't even a sign stating when they'd be back. Upon scanning the tent for magical clues, you note one thing of interest. The Harrow deck is radiating a surprisingly-powerful conjuration aura. Considering the relative cheapness of everything else in the tent (including the entirely-mundane crystal ball), that's probably suspicious.
"...Was your friend the sort of person who might draw a card from a harrow deck without permission?" Iris asked after a few moments. She was familiar with a few powerful versions of the decks, and the effects of such objects could be... ah... memorable. Depending on the card they might have drawn - did any seem to be on the floor or otherwise out of place? - they could be somewhere safe. Or, well, not.
"I don't think so. She's not one to tempt fate like that." The deck does look slightly disturbed, as it's not perfectly squared up. However, no cards are on the floor, so it's currently unclear if any have been taken. The deck's aura, while powerful, doesn't appear to match that of a deck of many things.
It wasn't unusual for a well-used deck to be at least a bit disturbed during the middle of the day, and Iris frowned slightly as she glanced around the area. She could see why things felt like such a mystery here... but it didn't seem as if she was going to get any answers by just looking around. Quite frankly, she wasn't sure what to do.
...
Not that she was going to admit that to a mortal.
"What do you know of this stall's owner?"
The halfling furrowed her brow as she tried to recall any other information. As she pondered, she absentmindedly went to fiddle with the Harrow cards ... and a large glowing portal immediately opened and sucked her in. You recognize it as a gate spell, but, although you can feel it attempting to pull you in as well, you're fully capable of ignoring the compulsion.
A friggin' Gate!?
...
Sigh. The things she did for mortals. Still, she'd accepted their request, and she wasn't the type to leave a job half-finished. And hey, she could always hit herself with a Dismissal if she needed to get back to this Plane. Shaking her head slightly - mostly in bemusement at the things mortals got themselves wrapped up in - she stepped through the portal. Sorathel could handle things here... although she might have to apologize to the Pathfinders later.
Stepping through the gate, you find yourself in a dark parody of the festival. Looming tents seem to reach greedily for the overcast sky before their tips curl back down in defeat. Faded paint peels from disused cages and wagons scattered about, while slow organ music drifts through the empty pathways. Nearby, a yawning entry leads into the dark interior of a twisted and massive central tent.
Pausing for a moment, Iris dug out one of her books and began flipping through it, comparing the notes there to the area around her as she tried to pinpoint her exact location.
While you're currently unable to deduce your location, it's definitely NOT the Shadow Plane. The everpresent cloying wrongness that pervades the air there is nowhere to be found. Thank goodness for small comforts.
Ah, lovely. ...Now, where was that mortal? Setting forward slightly, Iris triggered the Hidden Light of her staff to illuminate the area around her without making it obvious to anyone too far away that she was present.
From somewhere deeper into the 'festival,' you begin to hear the sounds of combat. At the same time, a jaunty show tune begins to play in the central pavilion as the crowd inside begins to cheer and applaud.
Combat, was it? Frowning slightly, Iris made her way towards the central pavilion. Hopefully it was just a show, but if the mortals were getting involved against their will, well... she'd brought light to darker places in the past, and had no particular problem with doing it again.
The shabby circus tent seems larger inside than out, curving upward in nauseatingly bright patterns and disappearing into darkness far overhead beyond a tightrope and trapeze. Two precarious bleachers flank a large performing space littered with half-eaten food and cheap novelties.
A smattering of beings sit in the audience, watching a stone giant juggler and a quartet of unicycle-riding bears. As they notice you, the crowd begins to boo.
In fairness, she did have a distracting light on for those close to her, and out of politeness she let that blink out. The rest of it she calmly ignored - gods in general tended to be self-confident to a degree mortals could barely begin to fathom, and she was no exception to that. While she enjoyed getting people to like her, she knew that there were plenty out there who despised the light. More importantly, where were the mortals...?
In the shadows at the far end of the tent, you can make out an elaborate animal cage. The interior is furnished with overstuffed chairs and divans, and teacups and fine porcelain crowd every visible surface. There's no lock on the door, but you can see someone inside.
You're interrupted, however, by shouts from the audience. "Boooo! You suck! Boring!" That's when the juggler begins hurling foodstuffs in your direction while beginning a jig. The bears continue to circle the juggler and pull a random assortment of items from somewhere before handing them off so he can continue to juggle. As for the audience? They've started to laugh ... at you.
Iris calmly stepped around the foodstuffs, allowing them to splatter to the ground. A moment later, she tapped her staff on the ground and blinked out of sight, Warping across the ring and to the cage on the other side. Walking was good, too - she was a goddess of travel - but there were times when she felt like simply being at her destination instead. "Hm." she mused, looking around the tent from this side.
The audience boos in disappointment that you won't participate in their entertainment, but they soon lose interest and go back to watching the juggler and bears. Inside the cage, you see an impeccably-dressed crocodile-headed humanoid calmly sipping a cup of tea. His backwards-facing hands indicate that he's a rakshasa. "Good day to you, my dear. Can I interest you in a cup of tea?"
"I appreciate the offer, but no." Iris answered mildly. "I'm simply here to find some people, and we'll be on our way." Given what she'd seen so far, she had a few suspicions about where this was headed, but... frankly, she didn't want to escalate things any more than she had to.
The rakshasa takes another sip of tea and chuckles mildly. "I doubt it will be as simple as that, milady, but I'm sure it'll be entertaining, nonetheless. Might I inquire as to who you're searching for?"
"Well, I can't imagine there are too many humans who just arrived." Iris noted. "If you could simply point me in the right direction, I'd appreciate it." That said, it probably wouldn't end up as entertaining as the Rakshasa was probably hoping for. She was a goddess - she acted according to her own will, not the desires and preferences of mortals.
The rakshasa is rather difficult to read. There's something just a little off about his gaze, although you can't tell why - or even if it's important or not.
"I could probably do that - although I must confess that I almost always lie."
"Ah, but can a confession of lying be trusted?" Iris' eyes sparkled in slight amusement. "Perhaps this will make it a little easier to be... cooperative... though." she tapped her staff on the ground, summoning up a Zone of Truth around them. "Lying can be ever so self-destructive, after all... especially when you're looking for entertainment."
The rakshasa's eyes sparkled as your spell activated, and he gave a wide grin. You note that he doesn't attempt to resist. "This promises to be most entertaining, indeed. How about this: I'll trade you answers if you do the same. One for one. You can even go first!"
Iris' lips twitched in amusement. "I think not." she answered. "I'd rather not back myself into a situation where I'm obligated to answer a question I'd rather not... so why don't you ask first, and I'll simply walk away if I don't feel like answering. I wonder, how far do you think you can press to get something interesting without convincing another party to leave...?" That last bit was mostly meant to appeal to his pride - was he as good as he thought he was, or would he fall short? More importantly, could he resist finding out?
That definitely seemed to spark his interest, as he gently set down his teacup and leaned forward. "That's a rather interesting challenge, to be sure, and a novel twist on my little game. Very well, I agree. Let's begin with one related to your challenge, then: if you manage to find your humans, how do you intend to leave this Realm?"
"I was thinking about looking for a normal exit for visitors." the goddess answered mildly. "Places like this usually have one. Failing that, I do happen to have the power to leave planes." Her staff's Dismissal power was good against foes... but for innocent mortals, when accuracy was more important, she'd probably have to invest some divine power into the spheres. The power to Warp did possess the ability to send others back to their home plane, after all, and she was quite willing to do that if need be. "My turn, then. Where are the mortals I'm looking for - and if you don't know, then where is a local who does?"
The rakshasa gives a small chuckle at your answer. "I wish you the best of luck with that...." Your question gives him pause - but only briefly. "I don't know anything about the individuals you're searching for, so I recommend you seek out Zassrion. My turn: do you like the carnival?"
Iris merely blinked, noting the Rakshasa hadn't actually answered her question and filing that away. "I'm not sure I've seen enough of it to really form an opinion. Much as one can't gain a full understanding of a restaurant by trying one thing on their menu, I haven't seen many of the... entertainments... you have to offer. Of course, I have been known to put on a show or two myself, so I know a bit of what goes into these things. Let us simply say that I like carnivals when they're done properly." A term she didn't actually define for the rakshasa. "Speaking of exits, though, what - exactly - is the safest way for mortals to return home that's reasonably accessible here?"
"I assumed you were a performer. The Realm has an affinity for those individuals for some reason. Anyway, to answer your question, most visitors use the tokens. For my question, I'd like to know what separates a 'proper' carnival from one with 'improper' entertainments. If an audience enjoys something, why would you take issue with it?"
"Well, that depends on who you ask. Many regions have specific traditions about their festivals - if a carnival is missing something, they'll think it was never quite complete. Since many of those things are local, you could say that no carnival is truly perfect... or you could say that a proper carnival is whatever someone accepts as one." Iris answered mildly. "So there's really no answer to your question - it's simply a matter of perspective. Given that, I'll permit you another question." That was mostly insurance, of sorts - to ensure that lack of good answers wouldn't cost her.
The rakshasa shakes his head. "I'm afraid that's not how the game works. We exchange questions until one of us is satisfied. No freebies."
Iris' eyes twinkled in amusement. "I suppose that's one way of thinking about it." she answered, not quite agreeing with him. "What's the best way to acquire the tokens you mentioned, 'best' in this case meaning the easiest, safest, and generally most minimal amount of fuss for myself and the people I'd like to get home?"
----
(Meanwhile, back in Andoran, Sorathel was probably telling the Pathfinders that her mistress was something of a compulsive helper when others were in need. Or something like that, anyway.)
"I must confess that I don't know what the other seven Conspirators will require to surrender their tokens. As for mine, it's hidden in a location that you'll never find. What will you give me for it?" He attempts to continue speaking but nothing happens. After a brief moment of confusion, he realizes why and frowns in mild irritation.
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Venture Captain Brackett has companions with him when Sorathel sees him again: a snooty-looking elf and a Kellid male with an inscrutable expression. They've been briefed about your item and seem to be taking it very seriously as they clearly have multiple protective spells active.
Iris raised an eyebrow at what appeared to be her spell stopping the Rakshasa from telling a lie... although the other parts were likely the truth. Either that or he was just faking it to make her think he was trapped by the spell when he really wasn't - she wouldn't put it past experienced liars to do that, which was why she wasn't totally relying on the spell she'd cast, even if it was rather harder to resist than most spells of its type. Her staff was useful that way... but omniscience was not something she currently possessed. "Nothing, I suspect." she answered after a few moments. "Having a local system for exiting properly is convenient, but hardly a necessity for me." she wouldn't have been much of a goddess of travel if she had a hard time leaving places. "So, where is this Zassrion fellow?"
----
Sorathel nodded in approval as she saw the precautions the Pathfinders were taking. "My lady has instructed me to pierce the bag without hesitation if the lantern acts up..." she noted, "...but I'm happy to see you are treating its security seriously. We would both be... less than satisfied if there were to be a second outbreak."
The rakshasa doesn't seem unduly bothered by your response. "Fair enough. Zassrion's probably in his Striding Fortress. Before you ask, I don't know where it is at the moment. It roams, you see. My turn: when you leave, will you let anyone else out? Aside from the individuals you're searching for, of course."
"I think I'm satisfied with the answers I've gotten." Iris said, calmly looking the Rakshasa in the eyes. "As for 'letting' people out... why, that makes them sound like they're trapped here, and what good is a carnival if people can't go home when they're done? I might help people home... or perhaps I'll simply encourage them to gather the tokens. They haven't asked, and I haven't decided."
"Fair enough," the rakshasa responded. "You're free to go; my performers will not bother you. Come back if you wish to play again."
Iris' answer was simply an amused smile. She didn't require the permission of mortals to leave... but she did simply warp outside, rather than walking, fully intending to try and locate this... Striding Fortress. With a name like that, it probably wasn't going to be too hard to see if she got close enough, yeah?
Outside the main tent, you find yourself back amid the dilapidated tents of the carnival. Past that, you can see a tangled mass of thorns that stretches in all directions.
Well, the best way to find something was to ask the locals... and Iris calmly set off, occasionally tapping her staff on the ground as she looked for visitors and employees to talk to. Of course, if that failed, she might have to take more direct measures...
The carnival is almost completely empty (outside from the audience in the main tent), but you're able to locate a quartet of tengu clowns and an enormously-obese chef who can answer a few questions.
-----------------------------------------------
There are nine major territories in this Realm, each ruled by someone called a 'Conspirator.' Each holds a token that is mildly attuned to the Striding Fortress. It's owner, Lord Zassorian, has recently abducted a pair of musicians. Apparently he wishes to become mortal and escape this Realm.
Territories
Demon's Fen
Mammolds
Midnight Circus
Prophet's Garden
Sanguine Playhouse
Smith's Caldera
Striding Fortress
Tangled Briar
Trackless Dearth
Hm. Curious. Of course, that was only limited help for actually finding the place - although admittedly, keeping track of what sounded like a moving building was only of limited value. "And... how might one get in contact with Lord Zassorian?" Iris inquired mildly. "As it happens, I can think of a way to get him what he wants..."
Nobody you speak with knows how to make contact with him. The Patchwork Lord seems to have little interest in the creatures of this Realm and hasn't left his fortress for a very long time.
Based on the directions you were given, the Prophet's Garden lies to the south. Unfortunately, as the entire carnival is surrounded by a tangled mass of thick briars, getting there will take some time. Of course, you're significantly faster than most, so you'll still be able to proceed at a decent pace. Navigating the almost-nonexistent twisting paths within the thicket will take some effort, though.