at the Grand Lodge of Absalom, the team join dozens of other Pathfinders on a lawn in the shadow of Skyreach. Many of the assembled agents hold fliers that appeared about the lodge the day before, hinting at a special announcement to be made here this morning. Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng emerges from the crowd followed by an assistant carrying a large stool that she sets on the grass. Dreng spryly clambers up to stand on the stool and addresses the small crowd.
“Thank you for joining me here, Pathfinders,” the milky-eyed venturecaptain shouts.
“Absalom has a long and illustrious history, and today we add a little more to that ongoing record. The esteemed councilor Hadrel Grayrain of Diobel recently passed away, leaving a vacancy on Absalom’s Grand Council. We’re still many months away from the annual inauguration of councilors, and with numerous acts pertaining to Diobel on the schedule, the vassal city is eager to get a new representative. In fact, with Absalom’s assistance, Diobel’s Kortos Consortium has co-bankrolled a festival spread across much of the Foreign Quarter. Ostensibly, this is an occasion to honor the deceased and welcome his replacement. Virtually everyone also sees this as a chance to advertise and earn some new business.”
Drandle Dreng clears his throat and shrugs.
“Well, the Society is no exception. We’ve already chipped in some gold to help this be a success, and in doing so we’ve received numerous invitations to the more exclusive events. With our recent work in Mendev, we’ve earned considerable goodwill. This is a good opportunity to consolidate those gains by seeing and being seen by the upper crust—as well as hobnobbing with the common people.”
He chuckles and gives the crowd a smile.
“All at the Society’s expense! Have a good time, keep an ear out for interesting leads, and represent the Society well!”
Grand Lodge Social (Afternoon, Day 1): As part of its
contribution to the festivities, the Pathfinder Society hosts
an informal social gathering with drinks and appetizers
to welcome visiting dignitaries and other people of note.
The event also attracts a handful of representatives on the
Grand Council. The Society displays several dozen relics
for visitors to admire, and on one end of the reception
space, Pathfinder agents take turns demonstrating their
many skills to the guests’ amusement.
Commemorative Service (Evening, Day 1): At moonrise,
a nondenominational commemorative service takes place
in the Docks district. The service is somber and those
remembering Grayrain and his accomplishments take
turns speaking. The event is comparatively small, as most
who needed to say goodbye to Grayrain did so earlier in
the month at his funeral. After the service, many of those
in attendance retire to taverns along the waterfront or in
the Foreign Quarter.
Preinaugural Feast (Afternoon, Day 2): This event
takes place at a great hall in the Wise Quarter from
late afternoon through the evening. It is semi-casual
and heavily attended. Many members of Absalom’s Low
Council attend, though the High Council is not present.
In addition to casual conversation, there is much
conjecture and speculation concerning who shall become
Grayrain’s successor.
Deliberation Day (Day 3): There are no major events
this day. The High Council spends much of the day
in deliberation to determine which candidate should
succeed Grayrain. They call upon several dozen citizens
to offer input and testimony to aid in the decision. Those
not under political obligations take the opportunity to
host private meetings to broker alliances, draft trade
deals, and manage other personal interests.
Inauguration (Noon, Day 4): Slightly before noon, a
crowd gathers in a large open-air amphitheater in the Wise
Quarter. Within an hour, the First Lady of Laws, Scion
Lady Neferpatra of House Ahnkamen, takes the stage and
announces the appointment of Grint Basatrel. Grint then
takes the stage to give an impassioned speech about both the
past and his hopes for improving future relations between
Absalom and its vassal cities. After his speech, the crowd
remains. Music and feasting continue long into the night.
Dreng gives the mischivious smile that he's known for.
Why Li Shuo, why would I ever suspect that something more would be going on? I mean, as you said, it's just a party! A party being attended by every major mover and shaker in the inner sea, in part to elect the new council member, of which said council will help decide the society's position in Absalom and our reach in the years to come. But still, a party!
The young half elf dressed in leather and with a scimitar on his side enters the room. A party you say? Seltyiel does enjoy a good party
Dreng shrugs.
Venture Captain Ambrus Valsin is in charge of the Social, if your to fidgety to enjoy a good time he might be able to find something for you to do.
[b] Party. Dancing. Women. All good things especially with a little danger and subterfuge involved [/b[ he says.
Dreng chuckles and pats the pig with a smile.
Why, just put a pearl necklace on 'em and some lipstick and they'll be fine! Why, we pathfinders are known for being a little unusual, why not show off what makes us different! Oh! Sorry, that's the seekers, I need to go speak to them about some events going on...
With that, he turns and heads to catch up with a group of pathfinders.
He will look for pants and a shirt which leave nothing to the imagination but leave all to the imagination. :)
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Nat goes to a bathhouse and gets the staff to bathe her, trim and style her hair, shave appropriate areas of her body, and apply makeup, while also having someone with a sense of style purchase a courtier's outfit and jewelry for her. She also finds a pet groomer to give Nord the best look they can for him -- washed, brushed, and hooves cleaned and polished.
She also buys two potions of mage armor, just in case there's trouble, and makes sure to bring her dagger in her wrist sheath and her sling and some bullets in her handbag.
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"So I should introduce myself, I suppose." A tall, swarthy man with long dreadlocks speaks up. "I'm Brady, and I for one am delighted to be going to a party for the society finally. I've spent the last few years moving between the Kaava and Mwangi--or defending the Blakros from terrors from those lands. A party is just what I need."
Brady makes no special effort with his appearance; his clothing is clean and of fashion that's not quite yet out of style, and he wears it with comfortable ease. He does go shopping, though, finally picking up an accessory for his wayfinder
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The crew meats up with Venture-Captain Valsin as he straightens h is black leather vest, looking like a man ready to enter battle. As the team comes up to him, he spots them and like a drowning man grasping a line waves them over.
Thank the gods above, Support!
He wipes his brow and steels himself.
Alright, in there is a cohort of some of the wealthiest persons in all of Absalom. They all want to meet the "Heroes of the Crusades", and many of them are considering both donating to the cause of the crusades as well as backing the lodge itself. This will go a long way to supporting a lot of expeditions, and we need all the good publicity we can get. So please, PLEASE try to put your best face forward...
He looks at Grynt and rephrases
Best self forward. Remember, your Pathfinders, the heroes and adventurers who fought back the demon hordes, just... tell them a few war stories and get some oos and aahs okay?
With that, he takes a deep breath and enters in first to a gala filled to the brim with dignitaries and rich folk from all over the inner sea. Despite his nervousness, he apparently does pretty well with the hobnobbing, and almost immediately you are all beset by folks... almost without having a chance to react, your separated from each other by the swarms of inquiring curious people, who all seem to ask the same thing....
Your a Pathfinder? Oh what's it like?
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"In my time with the Pathfinders we have fought devil cults and mad wizards, aided allies on the elemental planes and even fought a war in the streets of Absalom. Being a Pathfinder means danger, yes, but it also means camaraderie, adventure and doing something meaningful to help your fellows. But nothing else we do is as important as supporting the crusaders in the Worldwound and Lastwall. Those threats may seem distant but I assure you they are very real. You don't need to be a Pathfinder to be a hero...you just need to do your bit to help out. What we are we become through the exercise of will, not hope. Please consider doing your part and donating whatever you can to the cause."
Finding a nice looking person the half elf begins
I remember being among my father's people in Kyonin, the land of the elves. In that land there are demons galore as Treerazer tries to take it over. Anyway, we were surrounded by a group of vrock, you know, the vulture headed things that can dance and carry on. Well, we were fighting back to back, they were 'porting and flying around. We beat them but lots of elves died that day, partly because we didn't have the right type of supplies to fight these things off. Maybe, with your help, more people wouldn't have to die for lack of being prepared he says
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Brady chuckles as he's swarmed with admirers with all sorts of questions.
"Whoa there, calm down; everyone gets a turn, haha!" He turns to a lady who'd probably never address him on the street, and answers her simply. "No, I wasn't ever at the Worldwound. The Society sends its agents all over Golarion; and our work was just as important! I spent most of the last few years in jungles of Garund, making important contacts for the Society and fighting some pretty unsettling monsters. There was this one serpentine creature--an ancient terror that had been trapped in a secure prison for millenia! Unfortunately, some other Pathfinders had accidentally given it the tiniest hole through which it could exert its influence. Even I was under its mind control for a time. I'm quite lucky to be here alive to speak with you, to be honest. Many times over!"
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While he feels much out of his element at the party with all the richly dressed nobles and wealthy, the half-Orc tries to do his part. Grynt gives a toothy grin at the question, nods, and bows...
"Very dangerous, m'lords and m'ladies, I've faced winged demons from the Cosmos, as well as a huge flying spawn of death from the very blight itself. It was a very sticky wicket fighting those beasts, and I did not come out unscathed but, you can be sure, we Pathfinders put 'em down...I dropped the deathspawn with a shot right through its eye...kinda like this..."
Grynt quickly draws his bow and fits an arrow to it, targeting a suckling pig on the dining table...as folk have not yet began to eat, he finds a safe and clear LOS and lets it rip...
He quickly puts away the bow and bows. "Your generous donations will ensure the Pathfinders will always be well funded in containing the Demons and keeping them well away from your borders..."
Feeling he has done enough, Grynt bows and tries to find a quiet corner to retreat to, from which to better observe the party. However, he will be as courteous as he can and answer in the same vein if others ask, although he will not repeat the bow shot...
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Nat is reluctant to speak but finally is coaxed to do so by other pathfinders. "My life must sound boring in comparison to some. Most of my adventures came before I joined the pathfinders, to be honest - I spent a lot of my youth fighting goblin tribes along the Lost Coast of Varisia, with my father. Well, my adoptive father, I don't know my birth father since my parents died when I was a babe in arms. My father found me, the only survivor of an orc raid on a trade caravan, after he killed the raiders. He was a druid follower of Ketephys, Lord of the Hunt. Elves live a very long time, but not forever, and he found me in the twilight of his life." She spends some time recounting the stories of how she fought a number of goblin tribes and rescued her companion, a boar she calls Squealy Nord, from one of them when he was just a piglet.
The pathfinders spend a little while enjoying the food, drink, and talking with the high society folks. It's a good night, and the folks are clearly enjoying themselves.
Suddenly, a door slams open and a young tiefling man rushes in. Even in as cosmopolitan of a city as Absalom, a man with horns and blackened skin draws attention as he rushes up.
CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!
He runs quickly up to the venture captain and mutters in a hushed voice, gesturing wildly. Mutterings begin to echo about the chamber as the Venture-Captain frowns, then smiles.
Excitable aren't you Kalkuin? Guests! I have a treat! Some rare artifacts have just arrived from a expedition! I'd love to show all of them to you... Pathfinders?
He gives each of the team a Steely gaze and makes the pathfinder sign for "Urgent" and "Danger".
Won't you help out Kalkuin with the storage of the other relics? In his over excitement, he brought to many! I thank you very much for your help.
He swiftly guides the crowd's attention to another end of the room where some assistants who where clearly unaware of the change of schedule rush around. Kalkuin waives the pathfinders over out the door and closes it shut behind him before turning to them in a panic.
There aren’t many agents around the Grand Lodge, so when I heard an explosion and ran to investigate, I was the first one there. It seems something bad happened in one of the laboratories—really bad. One of the researchers stumbled out all covered in boils and blood, and when I tried to lend him an arm, he bit me and tried to tear out my throat! It was all I could do to fend him off, and two others helped me drive him back into the lab and barricade the door.
He pulls back his sleeve, showing a festering bite wound that looks like it's several days old and infected in the worst way.
This isn't part of my heritage, no matter what you think. I think it’s some kind of infection, and I intend to find a cleric as soon as possible. In the meantime, we have agents in trouble at the lodge. Somebody’s gotta help them!”
from the wound, though he could die if not treated
in the next several days. It is also unclear whether
the infection is contagious
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Grynt nods at the tiefling while looking over his wounds...
"Sir, while you are not in immediate danger, you need to get those wounds checked and healed very soon...I can't tell if it's contagious, so you should avoid contact with others until you see a healer. We'll help our comrades..."
He turns to his companions. "From what I've heard, these labs study dangerous items...but usually not this dangerous. I've also heard that recent relics discovered in a newfound site outside Absalom, known as Bonekeep, cost several Pathfinders their lives...perhaps this explosion is related..."
Grynt will draw his bow and warily approach the lab...
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Nat casts Detect Poison to determine whether the tiefling has been affected by poison.
Determining that there's no time for getting her and her companion's armor, she drinks her mage armor potion, feeds the other to Squealy, hikes up the skirts of her dress to allow her legs to move freely, and jumps on top of the boar's back to ride him bareback to the site of the trouble. While going there, she pulls out the sling and a bullet from her handbag, getting it ready.
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Etienne hustles along with the rest of the group. He takes a moment to pull his wand of mage armor and give himself a tap with it on the way.
"The Society really needs to review it's containment procedures. And we should share any improvements with the Blackros Museum. Just cleaned up another one of their messes two days ago!"
When the team arrive at the entrance to the Society laboratory, a groundskeeper is on hand to give them a key to open the thick wooden
door reinforced with thick metal plates. The door opens to a hallway with several preparation rooms used to concoct various items used in alchemical research. Each such room’s door has a glass panel that allows one to look inside. Most of the rooms show signs of hasty vandalism overturned tables, and tossed paperwork.
A set of stairs at the end of the hall leads to a lower level. These are sticky with an unfamiliar substance.
Perception
Know Dungeon
He will also cast detect magic
We need to be caerful down the stairs is an ooze of some kind
Natulcien rushes down the stairs, her piggy friend behind her, Grynt alongside.
As the reach the bottom, their feet try to slip out from underneath them!
Both manage to hold their feet underneath them, though it was slick going for a moment. The entire room seems to be covered in a slick sheet of clear ooze... the culprits of which seem to be right in front of them.
Two bulbous tumors, made of flesh and boils and ooze, roll around the room, sliming over things. As our heroes enter the room, they stop and quiver, as if sensing out fresh prey...
PATHFINDERS FIGHT! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
[b]Magus
Etienne
Brady
Grynt
Natulcien
Li Shouo[b]
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Flesh Monster Red
Flesh Monster Blue
Grynt's arrows strike true, sticking into the quivering blob, followed quickly by Nat's stone slams into the fleshy blob, driving in deep to it. Even Squealy gets in on the action... but touching the fleshy blob coats poor Squealy face in it's disgusting slime.
Nat can feel through her natural connection that something is already wrong to some extent with Squealy, but the power pig will soldier through for now... leaving him without medical help for to long would be a bad idea...
Li fires his arrow as well, arrows slamming into the disgusting mass.
The blue blob remains up... for the moment, though it's looking pretty rough.
PATHFINDERS FIGHT! THE BOLD MAY ACT!
Magus
Etienne
Brady
Grynt
Natulcien
Li Shouo
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Flesh Monster Red
Flesh Monster Blue -47
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Following the others down the stairs, Brady draws up when he sees what they'll fight. This... this is not my strength! Now I really wish I had found something else to fight with. Normally he would charge right in, and be first in front, but hearing Natulcien's call, he hangs back, stopping on the bottom step out of concern about his own effectiveness and the risk.
Instead, he digs around for another weapon. He finds his javelins, and draws one, flinging it forward at one of the creatures.
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"My magus friend, you are more likely to help destroy these abominations than I am, so take a bit of my luck.
The witch can grant a creature within 30 feet a bit of good luck for 1 round. The target can call upon this good luck once per round, allowing him to reroll any ability check, attack roll, saving throw, or skill check, taking the better result. He must decide to use this ability before the first roll is made.