You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission of utmost importance. Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.
Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.
“Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
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"I wonder why the venture-captain selected such an unusual location to summon us to..." Vaetta says to herself, approaching the meeting place. Apparently the first to arrive, she scans the street corner with concern, and notes the begger approaching.
"I hope I am in the right place, it would be quite humiliating to discovere I had misunderstood the directions"
Vaetta listens to the begger's request, thinking back on all the times she begged for food in the streets of Korvosa.
"I-uhm... Yes, yes of course." Vaetta begins, digging into a pocket for a gold piece. "I hope this helps." She continues, pressing the coin into his palm with a smile.
Vaetta scans her surroundings, brushing a wet lock of long platinum hair from her eyes. Her massive scarf is wrapped tightly about her shoulders to ward off the chill, and she is fully armored. Her armor would resemble a suit of plate mail but for the fact that it is made of lacquered leather instead of steel.
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Giri, the frog-like humanoid creature, dressed in a loincloth and a chain shirt moves silently through the city. He remains in dark passageways and out of sight as he approaches the meeting point. Not having much experience with cities or with large amounts of strange people he remains hidden as much as possible, only crossing streets when it's really necessary.
He scans the street before heading up the side of a building and climbing above the meeting point, above the beggar and Vaetta. He remains utterly silent as he clamps on to the upper story wall.
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Lutorinus has been waiting in the shadows near the corner for a few minutes now. Seeing people congregate, he steps forward. Only fools and Pathfinders crowd a random street corner in the rain. He confidently strides forward, unfazed by the rain soaking his fine clothing in this dingy part of town.
"I have nothing for you. Make your own gold," he says dispassionately. I ripped myself from the filth ridden streets of Elidir and made a distinguished name for myself, praise be to Asmodeus. You will do the same or forever be nothing.
The man smiles at Vaetta, as he pockets the coin. "Thanks, m'lady" Looking over the three subjects gathered, he frowns. "There was another I summoned" Pausing a moment, he looks up towards the building. "Ah, Giri. Join us."
The acknowledgment hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“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...?” Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“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.” As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled venture-captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
“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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Giri climbs a little lower as he's recognized by the venture captain and remains hanging around the first floor, not wanting to get too close to everyone. He doesn't really understand why everyone is going on about the rain, seeing that he enjoys it very much.
Thinking the mission is clear and seeing that this is his first mission he remains quiet, apart from a low groan once in a while. One thing he does do however is thoroughly study everyone present, bordering on the uncomfortable, as he knows very little people from outside of his tribe.
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Vaetta appears surprised to discover the "begger" was none other than the venture captain himself, and even more so to discover that there was some kind of frog-folk hanging from the wall. Her mouth hangs open for several seconds. Only the fact that the venture captain called it by name prevents her from arming herself.
However she returns her attention to the venture captain as he continues speaking...
"I have no issue with retrieving the package for you Captain" Vaetta says while attempting to commit the map's contents to memory.
"So we are retrieve a parcel from the Wounded Wisp, owned by Heryn Gale, and deliver it to you at this location." She summarizes to display her understanding of the task.
"I must ask... Why did you summon four of us for such a simple assignment? Are you expecting some kind of trouble?"
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Of course, our task is to run an errand. How wonderful. Seeing as I am contracted help, there must be more to this. Hearing Vaetta ask what is on his mind, he pays close attention to the Venture-Captain's answer.
With a genuinely pleasant smile, Lutorinus responds in kind to Emma.
"Another who speaks the blessed tongue! It is a pleasure to meet you," he says, rain pouring down his face.
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Nodding to Vaetta, his crooked smile returns. "As I said my dear, I'm currently occupied and in need of this parcel. If I were to abandon my post, weeks of research would be for not."
Glancing over the rest of you, he adds "It truly shouldn't be much trouble with such a...professional group. Each of you were selected specifically. Besides, what else have you to do while awaiting your next assignment?"
Pulling his hood back up in an attempt to stop the rain, he frowns. "I must apologize, typically I'm all for lengthy discussions, but as it's a bit chilly out, I'd prefer to get this underway. Have you any other questions for me?"
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"I have no further questions," he states and begins walking in the direction of the Wounded Wisp.
"I commend you and your family on choosing to be loyal to our Lord. Should our travels together take an unfortunate turn, I will aid you with His might."
A Chelaxian... She may turn into a useful asset. "I have heard of your house's name, but I am afraid I know little about them. Being from Isger, I do not have much exposure to the noble houses as I would like. While we walk, would you care to expound upon their history?"
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"I will return with the parcel as soon as possible. Until then, stay safe captain." Vaetta says to Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng before turning to catch up to the two monsters who have become her comrades.
Vaetta jogs to catch up to Giri and Lutorinus, an amusing feat to behold given that she is encumbered by a backpack obviously stuffed to the point of bursting. Once she has a few small lead on her comrades, she slows, turns, and walks backwards for a moment so that everyone may hear her speaking.
"Since we will be working together, I believe it would be efficient for us to introduce ourselves, and tell the others a little about our capabilities. This way if something happens we shall be better prepared to work as a team." Vaetta pauses to glance behind her and make sure she isn't about to walk into anyone. Her speech sounds forced, like she practiced it in front of a mirror. She brushes a wet lock of hair from her eyes nervously before continuing.
I will go first. My name is Vaetta Sciona, and I hail from Varasia. I am a scholar for the Dark Archive specializing in unusual magical items such as scrolls and wands. However I also practice an obscure branch of occult battle-magic. My abilities are best suited to hand-to-hand combat, but I carry a few ranged weapons just in case... Vaetta says, finishing her prepared introduction.
Vaetta glances behind her once more, before turning her gaze back to her comrades expectantly.
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Giri stops halfway a building and stares at Vaetta.
"Ghirrrrrri."
He says and points to two razor sharp daggers and a net fastened to his loincloth.
"No tsk mhhhuagic."
He breaks his stare and looks in the direction they were going.
"If tsk wrrrrre want tsk fooood on table, wrrrre need tsk to do joooob. Brrrrribt Not talk."
Knowing his speech is hard to understand Giri doesn't really want to talk, especially to strangers.
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What a... peculiar creature. It seems to be comfortable in the shadows and those blades look impressive enough though.
Vaetta. Her eagerness is admirable I suppose. Hopefully she is as prepared as she looks."I am Lutorinus Exsuberia of Isger, a faithful servant to Asmodeus. The Society has made arrangements with the Church for my presence here. I support my associates in combat with His divine blessings. I have a unique skill set from my youth that is likely to have similarities with our amphibious friend's."
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"I look forward to working with each of you." Veatta says before turning to face the road ahead. Weighed down as she is, she must trot occasionally to stay at the front of the group where she thinks she can do the most good.
"Perhaps I should not have brought all of this extra equipment with me after all..." She ponders, pulling her long scarf more tightly about her shoulders. "...I doubt I will need a hundred feet of silk rope as a courier." she mutters quietly to herself, accidentally finishing her train of thought aloud.
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Typical Chelaxian arrogance. One of the many reasons her country is rotting from the top down...
Returning the smile, "Indeed it is Lady Greyfrost." Respectable. I will have to research her house on my own time then.
Lutorinus gestures politely to the front, head slightly bowed. "Would you care to lead the way, Lady Greyfrost?"
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"I, ah... Yes ma'am." Vaetta replies, slowing to allow the rest of the group to pass, her ears and face burning brightly with embarrassment and her eyes downcast. As the others pass, she pulls her scarf up over the lower half of her face and takes up a position at the rear. Occasionally she sniffles quietly.
As you depart, Drandle Dreng takes a moment to adjust his disguise. Somehow, the man manages to appear even more pitiful than when you first arrived. Returning to a corner across the street, he resumes in inconspicuous observations.
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You have no trouble finding the wounded wisp. The bar being close to the Grand Lodge, and the map Drandle supplied are more than sufficient in finding your way through the streets of Absalom.
As you approach the establishment 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 building, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. The only distinguishing feature being an old wooden sign reading The Wisp. A brass ring anchors a lantern to the sign.
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.
As you enter, you can see a number of patrons relaxing around the room. The group bellied up to the bar seem to be involved in a lively conversation.
"Na mate. On-y Cayden e'er make da jump. Two coin say 'e fall!"
"Don't forget, he was a crusader! I bet Three coin he makes it! With Aroden's death, we need us another fair god. He'll pass the Test of the Starstone"
Nearby a Halfling enthralls new recruits with tails of adventure and fame.
A human male sits quietly observing the pathfinders coming and going, he readily converses with any that approach him. A scimitar strapped to his they and a necklace depicting and angelic ankh are visible. The man fiddles with a set of scales in front of him.
An uproar of laughter pulls your attention to the upper levels of the establishment. Two identical half-orcs sit drinking from oversized tankards and spouting off to each other in their native tongue.
Noisy drunkards in a bar, not uncommon. Though an older man sitting off to the side with a massive tome in front of him, strikes one as peculiar.
The bartender looks up as you approach, hands off another drink and smiles. "What's yer poison?" he asks.
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The smells of the room may be overwhelming for some, but Lutorinus seems largely unaffected. Been awhile since I've set a foot in a bar like this...
A man who values results, he heads straight for the bar. "The driest red you have. We are here to meet Heryn Gale to receive a package for Drandle Dreng." he asks with minimal enthusiasm.
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"Master always said that bars and taverns were dens of inequity and foolishness, but this one does not seem so bad." Vaetta muses before the stench overpowers her. "Oh but the smell! No wonder master never liked these places..." She thinks, pressing her scarf to her face in futile attempt to filter out the stench of stale ale and poor decisions.
Vaetta follows Emma into the bar, remaining close behind her. As they enter the common room of the bar, she points at the half-orcish twins and quietly says "That is unusual!" As Lutorinus and Emma order their drinks from the bartender, Vaetta shakes her head. "Nothing for me." She says.
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For a moment Giri recoils from the stench, after a minute or two he slowly gets used to the stench and joins the party at the bar. He nods to Vaetta as she says that she wants nothing to drink. He glances around and sees a man ready to talk, who also seems to look trustworthy. He steels his nerves and moves away from the bar.
Giri walks over to the man with the holy symbol, he bends over to touch his sword. He looks at it with great curiosity, touching the edge with one of his fingers. He nods appreciatively at the man.
"Sharrrrp tsk"
He grabs one of his daggers and shows the razor sharp knife to the man.
"Me Ghirrrrrri."
"Fine blade, my young...uh...lad? Pleased to meet you. I'm Aram bin Kaleel, you may call me Kaleel."
"New to the society? I myself have been involved for a time. Seen many dangers. Seen a swarm yet? Those things are rough... Even a fine blade as yours would be ill matched versus such a thing. Oh, and poisons...can certainly give you a bad time. Might I ask of your experience?"
Handing the dagger back, his eyes fall upon you, waiting patiently.
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Vaetta nods to the bartender and wanders off the mingle. She allows her scarf to fall back into its normal position, finally used to the unpleasant odor. Scanning the room, she decides that the man with the massive tome is the one she is most likely to share similar interests with.
Vaetta casually approaches him, and watches for a moment. If he appears to be reading, she will wait until she things he has finished his page to introduce herself. Otherwise she will introduce herself immediately.
"Greetings, I am Vaetta." Vaetta says. Forgive me for intruding, but I could not help but notice you seem like the sort of man who is more comfortable in a library than a tavern. A trait I think we share... She continues with a smile.
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Lutorinus gracefully takes the glass from the bar and swirls it beneath his nose, breathing in the bitter aroma. After a moment of contemplation, he takes a sip. And then another. "This will suffice. Thank you."
Now that he is equipped to be at a bar, he will accompany Lady Greyfrost wherever she goes.
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Giri is indeed very young and thinks nothing of the young lad remark. He puts the dagger back and tries to pronounce the name, having a hard time.
"Kraleeeeel"
He nods, thinking it is a very hard name to pronounce.
"No experrrrience. tsk"
He looks at the party and thinks they will be busy for a while yet so he continues.
"I come frrrrooom swuuamp. Brrrrrribt Hunt laaaarge bugs aaaand fish. wrrreep Cerrrrtain bugs baaaad, you eaaaat you die. Brrrrribt Poison? Not knrooooow what swarrrrrm is."
Leaning forward, he offers a wrinkled hand, "Yargos Gill, martial historian. I take it you are a pathfinder? Or aspire to be one?"
"One must also keep an eye out for traps...dungeons tend to be full of little surprises. The better prepared you are before venturing out, the better your chances to succeed or even survive, my amphibious friend. A Pathfinder should stand on his own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed”
Pausing a moment, he adds "I saw you came in with a few others. Looks like a promising group."
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Giri imagines being swarmed by food and can't imagine it being horrible at all. The mention of traps however gets back his attention.
"Gooooood eyes tsk, I haaaaave."
He says pointing to his two very large eyes. He follows the man's gaze to the group, he thinks to himself for a moment before answering.
They seem alright... One is a bit too snobby but the others seem alright... Have to see their skills first though...
A moment later he answers.
"They haaaave the rlooks of seaaaasoned peoooople. Bribbbbbbit Cocky wrrrone might get heeeerself wrrreep killed."
He smiles at the man, enjoying his conversation.
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"No more out of place than myself. I joined the Pathfinder Society only recently." Vaetta replies.
"I am affiliated with the Dark Archive. I am told the vaults are quite vast, and that the Dark Archive is always in need of historians and scholars to curate them. If you have aided the Society before, I am sure the Dark Archive would appreciate your expertise." Vaetta says.
"Personally, I am hoping for an opportunity to study some of the occult texts and magical weapons the society has collected over the centuries." Vaetta continues, rambling on exuberantly.
Nonchalantly, the man fingers his holy symbol. "Seems in recent times, the Society has gone away from properly preparing for their excursions...makes me long for the older days..." Looking back down, he smiles again. "You are quite the pleasant chap."
Pondering a moment, he continues "Ever read this book? It's the Complete History of the Star Stone. It's my third time through, personally. With the upcoming challenge, it seemed fitting to read. Cayden is the only mortal to make it thus far you know... Of course, there's the sorted incident when it fell from the sky... And the whole deal with Aroden...
Trailing off, he flips through a few pages absentmindedly, watching for your reaction.
"...long story short, they all managed to complete their confirmation!"
The energetic lady looks up as you approach. "Oh, my!" remarks Janira. "Don't tell me....Asmodeus? You've felt the divine calling haven't you sir?"
Grinning from ear to ear, she continues. "Though, I'm not a devout follower myself, I've been on a number of excursions where his aid has saved my bacon! You an experienced adventurer?"