With the cabbage odor strengthening in the steady downpour, Venture Captain Dreng replies, “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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"I'm sure we can do that, captain. Will you still be here or should we seek for you elsewhere?"
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The wizened old Venture Captain turns to Eoswulf, as if just realizing that he was there, and after a quick gasp and shudder he replies, "As I said I will be here on stakeout for a few more hours. If this simple task takes you more time than that, you can always find me at the Grand Lodge Master's Chambers or ask about for me at the Society's library. But if it does take you longer without good reason... you might be in the wrong profession"
Following Hinkle's expert map reading skills and knowledge of Absalom, you easily find the Wounded Wisp.
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior of the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. In the hours just before dawn, the building closes long enough for menials to clean and to give staff a rest. The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern—referred to by the staff as “the wisp”— that hangs there during the evening hours.
Your group assembles outside the entrance, in the incessant drizzle, taking in the overwhelming understatedness of the iconic location. This is the birthplace of the Pathfinder Society. You wonder how many of the famous Pathfinders that have become part of the fabric of modern history, part of the very reason for becoming Pathfinders yourselves, have passed through these doors. With this, you adjust yourselves and open the door and walk into the entry hall.
This long wooden hallway is the entrance to the Wounded Wisp, heading north into the building itself. The walls are covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar.
The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink.
An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
"Oy, Thats me... what can I do for you sweetheart?"
Heryn Gale works the bar of the Wounded Wisp, catering directly to those sitting on stools while simultaneously preparing drinks for those at tables and coordinating the wait staff. Although quite busy, she is cordial and seems used to the chaos.
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"Drandle Dreng sent us to retrieve a parcel of his."
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Heryn calmly states, "Were a tad bit swamped at the moment my love, I need to wait until my relief returns from the butchers with tonight's special... "
The bar-matron continues, "Why don't you all make yourselves at home and mingle with some of your fellow Society members scattered about. There are plenty here to socialize with or to learn from, which ever may interest you."
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"I suppose I can't complain about an opportunity to meet some other Pathfinders and knock one back." Ēoswulf looks around.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Tables fill the main floor of the Wounded Wisp where patrons sit with colleagues and share stories over drinks. Three sets of stairs lead up to a raised dining area. This part of the establishment is four feet above the main floor of the Wounded Wisp, this section is sectioned off by elegant metal railings. On this level, patrons can enjoy a more private meal without the noise of the area below.
As your group of Pathfinders receive their complementary drinks from Heryn Gale, they take in the hustle and bustle of the legendary bar.
The Dwarf spies a female halfling bard surrounded by several new recruits to the Society. She is animated and bright as she appears to be recounting the history of the Pathfinders and their originator, Durvin Gest. If you were not in a pub, you would swear this was a scene from a schoolhouse; the 'children' agape with wonder while the teacher weaves her tale. There are still several seats available and the mood appears to be very cordial.
Intermixed with this Hinkle is able to pick up on the current talk of the bar, which is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
Ezren spies an obvious Keleshite merchant- as is evident by his rich embroidered clothing, black hair and almond eyes- giving advice to younger Pathfinders. “A Pathfinder should stand on his own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed...” says the inquisitor of Sarenrae, as he espouses on the need for a balanced approach in adventuring.
Intermixed with this Ezren is able to pick up on the current talk of the bar, which is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
The Ranger notices a pair of half-orcs, obviously twins, that are currently on the other side of sober but having a great time recounting stories of recent combat. At one point they stop in mid conversation, look at each other, and shout “There’s nothing an axe can’t fix!” They laugh, slap each other's shoulder and take a swig of ale in unison. Several other more martial oriented members surround these two and share tales of battle and conquest.
Intermixed with this Filla is able to pick up on the current talk of the bar, which is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
The Rogue looks to the end of the bar to see an older man sipping from an over-sized flagon of ale while reading through a large and ominous looking tome. Although this man is doubtfully a Pathfinder, as he has no immediate companions surrounding him, he is treated respectfully by the staff and other patrons. His age and mannerisms, coupled with the fact that he is reading a history book in a bar whilst imbibing, mark him a man with a "thirst" of knowledge and learning.
Intermixed with this Geo is able to pick up on the current talk of the bar, which is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
Eoswulf is able to pick up on the current talk of the bar, which is that Sir Reinhart plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, whatever that is.
Strolling in after you receive your drinks is a female halfling druid. Looking a little lost and a lot wet, she seems determined to find her adventure in this, the genesis location of the society. The halfling crawls up onto a bar stool closest to the door and orders a sherry.
As it is going to be at least 15 minutes before Heryn's relief returns, she encourages you to mingle.
As Hinkle pulls up a stool, the bard pauses and says "Welcome, traveler, I am Janira Gavix. We are just talking about our collective adventures, would you mind telling us about you and yours?"
You perceive that Janira has an extraordinary memory, and spends her time here learning about the exploits of other adventurers and relating her own tales with oratorical flourishes. You also notice a wayfinder on her belt, confirming the fact that she is truly a Pathfinder.
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Ēoswulf addresses the newcomer. "Hello there! What brings you to The Wounded Wisp?"
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As the Ranger takes her drink and approaches the table where the Half-Orc Twins are, she finally notices that they are not twin brothers after all! As the realization that one is a female sets in, they notice the half-elf and bid welcome... "Oi! Howzit goin'? I'm Garl," says the male, "and I'm Shrade!" says the other. The two barbarians finish their tale of how they became members of the Society 3 years ago by earning field commissions after saving the lives of a Pathfinder group deployed in Lastwall. They both agree that neither one really knew exactly what they were getting into when they accepted. They then turn to Filla and say, "What brings you to the Society? What do you lust for from your adventures, fame, wealth, knowledge, power? Tell us what motivates you and how you came to find yourself in service of the Society?"
As the Ulfin barbarian tries to make small talk with the Halfling, she looks untrustingly at the large man. It is then that Ēoswulf sees the head of a large wolf, teeth on full display and a low grumble sounding like the opening of the pits of hell itself, peeking its head around from the end of the bar.
With a simple hand gesture from the halfling, the wolf stops growling and sheathes its fangs, but its eyes remain unshakably on the man.
"I am known as Enith." says the Druid, and she attends to her untouched glass of sherry, yet still does not take a sip.
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"Not really much to tell, I'm still fairly new with the Pathfinders myself. Just been running errands around the city so far." The gnome states as he takes a seat. "Today we are here to pick up a parcel for Drendle Dreng. I hear he's rather unusual and you should expect anything when he sends you out in the field." Hinkle points at Janira's wayfinder. "Looking forward to the day I can earn one of those."
"Not really much to tell, I'm still fairly new with the Pathfinders myself. Just been running errands around the city so far." The gnome states as he takes a seat. "Today we are here to pick up a parcel for Drendle Dreng. I hear he's rather unusual and you should expect anything when he sends you out in the field." Hinkle points at Janira's wayfinder. "Looking forward to the day I can earn one of those."
Janira smiles warmly at Hinkle saying, "Ah Master Dreng, a bit odd yet a master Pathfinder in his own right. He is, after all, a venture captain and one does not simply become a venture captain. And as for this," motioning to her wayfinder, "I recently received this from my confirmation on the Isle of Kortos, making me a full agent of the society. You may too have an opportunity to acquire one of your own one day, but if you are ever in need of its service, just find me and I will assist you with mine!" The Bard informs you that she is normally either at the Wisp talking with new recruits or on the grounds of the Grand Lodge, honing her magical, martial and oration skills.
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Geoclunicus sees the others approaching patrons, and thinks Why not? Might find someone interesting to know...
He walks around a bit, picking up tidbits of conversations, and then sidles up to a man reading a tome.
"Mind if I sit here, dearie?" he asks, motioning to the seat nearby?
"Can you believe this Sir Reinhart? Seems a bit far-fetched, if you ask me..."
Geoclunicus sees the others approaching patrons, and thinks Why not? Might find someone interesting to know...
He walks around a bit, picking up tidbits of conversations, and then sidles up to a man reading a tome.
"Mind if I sit here, dearie?" he asks, motioning to the seat nearby?
"Can you believe this Sir Reinhart? Seems a bit far-fetched, if you ask me..."
"Greetings Pathfinder! I am Yargos Gill, military historian and friend of the society; at least I hope so. See I often offer my extensive knowledge of military operations and strategies and the Society sometimes allows me looks at the relics of history their agents bring here from around the world. As for Sir Reinhart, although the pageantry of of such folly has this establishment all abuzz with conjecture, odds favor his name winding up at the Shrine of the Failed, a place I am most familiar with, instead of his ascension unto the heavens. But as I am sure you know, In 4433 AR, Aroden defeated a cult dedicated to the demon lord Deskari, driving the survivors into the Lake of Mists and Veils and making the north of Avistan safe from demonic influence. However, this protection ended with Aroden's death in 4606 AR. Golarion moved into alignment with the Abyss, and the Worldwound was opened by the witch Areelu Vorlesh working in conjunction with her demonic patron, Deskari. Demons poured out, and overran the barbarian nation of Sarkoris. As the Worldwound grew ever larger, it came to be seen as a threat to the entire world..." The scholar goes on and on talking as if you yourself have firsthand knowledge of everything he says. You believe that you could leave and he would never notice, talking to no one and drinking his giant mug of ale...
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Fillia Smiles shyly at the two half orcs.
"I haven't being in the society for long. I'm still green as compared to you both. I heard you talk about Sir Reinhart of Kenabres and the test of the starstone and I wanted to know more. All of your stories are also interesting. I have only just completed one task involving running around the city so it seems drab compared to all of your exploits." her hands at the side giving all the impression of a skittish colt ready to bolt.
Fillia Smiles shyly at the two half orcs.
"I haven't being in the society for long. I'm still green as compared to you both. I heard you talk about Sir Reinhart of Kenabres and the test of the starstone and I wanted to know more. All of your stories are also interesting. I have only just completed one task involving running around the city so it seems drab compared to all of your exploits." her hands at the side giving all the impression of a skittish colt ready to bolt.
Garl and Shrade both shake their heads from side to side in unison and smile at Fillia. "You and us, we are the same, only seperated by a few years and a few missions." says Shrade, followed by Gnarl with "But it is the cam... comrad... commierud... friendships we treasure the most! If only we could be seen as more than simply head bashers!"
Shrade adds, "Yea! we are never sent on missions where our intel... untull... smarts is needed. We can be more that just brute force."Gnarl adds, "...and that Sir Reinhart, pffft... doubt that he has the intellegence" (glaring over at his sister mockingly) "to cross the bottomless pit surrounding the Starstone Cathedral, but who knows... many have tried, very few have made it."
Shrade ends with "If you ever attempt the test, Ranger, you know you can call on us, the Boartusk Twins, to assist you. Or if you ever need any help, just find us and ask! We are in it for the camaraderie after all!" returning the stink-eye to her brother!
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"I am known as Enith." Enith replies and returns her attention to the glass. I feel like I've said that recently. Have I? Oh well.. Pulling it up to her nose she sniffs it and barely resists making a face. This doesn't smell like cherries at all!
She looks back at the large man.
He's still standing there. Does he want something from me? Did he ask me a question? Did I ask him a question? Oh I know, I'll ask him about himself. Why does he have more than one weapon? Surely he knows he can't use more than one maybe two at a time. Unless he can!
Her gaze turns appraising. Maybe he brought more than one weapon because he's expecting excitement! I'll ask him.
Except, a feeling tells her that she had asked him that already. What had his response been? Did it matter? Unless he was some kind of weirdo loner who hates people and wolves and we'll have to fight and...
The scenarios continue to play out in her head for a moment. Her eyes narrow.
"Um, so... you have any friends here?"
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"And I am known as Ēoswulf," he extends a hand, "son of..." he looks a little unsure as Enith appears to be ignoring him. He bites his cheek, then looks to the bartender. "I'll have an ale."
"Ah, yes, yes I do. Fillia there is speaking with those big half-orcs over there. Geoclunicus is the leathery-looking elf over there. Hinkle, the Gnomish Torag-worshipper is sitting over there with that halfling Pathfinder there, and my friend Ezren looks to be talking to that merchant. And I am Ēoswulf, son of Gērmwyn."
He takes a drink of his ale. "So what brings you to the Wounded Wisp?"
Talking to the Keleshite merchant Ezren says, "Yes, a balanced approach is best! I look forward to providing my talents to many future Pathfinder missions. What other advice ... or maybe rumors might you know my good man. I have not much to offer yet in my career, but I am eager to learn!"
"I am Aram bin Kaleel and I own Kaleel’s Curiosities, the finest esoteric shop in the 'Coins' district. I see many neophytic Pathfinders here and encourage them to remember those who have come before them. My favorite of all is Durvin Gest, perhaps the most famous of all Pathfinders. He is best known for his exploration of Old Azlant, the destruction of the treacherous Lens of Galundari, and his commandeering of 'The Silken Purse' and piloting it around the southern tip of Garund. Nothing like the direction the Society has taken of late, what with its unabashed expansion and greed. You would do well to emulate Durvin and be supremely prepared for the challenges that adventuring may bring, such as various magical effects, swarms, traps, and other vexing obstacles. How you prepare and react to these are the difference between life and death in this business."
The proud Keleshite ends with a question, "Ezren, was it? How do you add to the strength of your party?" as he glances around the bar pointing out all you entered with.
"Swarms! Ha ... how much a problem could those be?! I add strength through arcane magics!", Ezren says with a flourish. "I am sure you are aware of how quickly the well placed spell can finish many a fight."
"I aware of the advantages of the arcane arts, however your dismissal of the lethality of swarms is concerning. A single member of a swarm alone presents little threat but together they become almost impossible to target and can be deadly."
It is not until this initial tirade is passed before Aram gives Ezrin a sly smile, sensing his sarcasm. "If you or your friends find yourself stuck with no direction, find my shop in the Coins District and I will aid as I can. Now if you don't mind... I believe I smell haggis!"|
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Garl and Shrade both shake their heads from side to side in unison and smile at Fillia. "You and us, we are the same, only seperated by a few years and a few missions." says Shrade, followed by Gnarl with "But it is the cam... comrad... commierud... friendships we treasure the most! If only we could be seen as more than simply head bashers!"
Shrade adds, "Yea! we are never sent on missions where our intel... untull... smarts is needed. We can be more that just brute force."
Gnarl adds, "...and that Sir Reinhart, pffft... doubt that he has the intellegence" (glaring over at his sister mockingly) "to cross the bottomless pit surrounding the Starstone Cathedral, but who knows... many have tried, very few have made it."
Shrade ends with "If you ever attempt the test, Ranger, you know you can call on us, the Boartusk Twins, to assist you. Or if you ever need any help, just find us and ask! We are in it for the camaraderie after all!" returning the stink-eye to her brother!
Fillia laughs, the sound tinking in the air like music, amused by the revealed twins's antics.
"Oh I assure you I'll will, I'm but a fledging archer but if you need help in long ranged support, I'm sure I can be of service."Pointing out the rest of her companions.
"See those over there? I'm working with them this time for our next assignment and I hope that I prove useful."
A medium sized brass ship's bell clangs from behind the bar and all attention is given to Heryn Gale, who is working the clapper. "Oi! Tonight's dinner special has arrived, fresh from Bierwise's Butchers, savory haggis pudding containing sheep's pluck minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, encased in the animal's stomach. Served with neeps and tatties, boiled and mashed separately, and a dram of whisky. Only five gold per plate, and it is enough to serve two normal appetites; only three gold for members of the society. Just ask yer servers!"
Heryn then turns to Ēoswulf and Enith and says, "You two, gather yer friends, my relief is here and we can be off to fetch the parcel for Dreng. Meet me back by the kitchen, in five minuites."
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Ēoswulf invites Enith to join them, then summons the party to follow him to the kitchen.
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Eyeing the drink again Enith takes a sip and then lets the liquid pour back into the glass and wipes off her tongue. Frowning she slides off the stool to the floor.
Stupid name for a stupid drink. Nothing like cherries. Hags pudding though, that sounded fun. That nice lady had described it hadn't she? But she used so many words...
The last bit had stuck in her head though. My friends...
She reaches down and scratches her companion behind his ears. Wolfy is my friend. These people are interesting, but friends...? I guess we'll see.
Come on Wolfy, let's go find some fun. She says, and then follows in the wake of the others.
Friends and hags pudding. This is fun already.