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"Darius, this seems to be like your back yard. Are you from this area originally?"
"Anybody on a schedule passes through Corentyn if their destination is southern Cheliax. I did not grow up here, but I do know of a deli that we'll have to visit," he chuckles.
"My last expedition was north of here, actually. I managed a small team that ultimately uncovered this suit of armor," he says as he thumps the chest piece of his fullplate. "Corentyn sees a lot of travelers through those arches."
"The museum? Well, I ain't much for reading and there's a lot of words there, but yeah," the freckled youth in the banded mail armor say, and begins giving directions.
Broad marble steps, barely dulled with age and showing only the tiniest of cracks lead to the solid, reinforced double doors of Corentyn’s Museum of History. The building stands in stark contrast to the surrounding structures, most of which are small, cramped, and crumbling. Two city guards stand at the intersection nearby, watching the tradesfolk, fishermen, vintners, and others who make High Quarter their home.
The entrance hall of the Museum is empty other than a few displays of Chelish Naval uniforms. Its not hard to pick up the sound of someone pacing back and forth. Investigaton of the noise reveals a nervous looking mustachioed man.
"Visitors! Visitors! We don't see many visitors." He says nervously, "I have the feeling that you're not here to see our display on the Strix.
"They've left! Those Thrune lackies have been spying on me for weeks," Zefiro says, panic rising in his voice, "They aren't subtle, they take shifts! Just staring at the museum until they're relieved by the next crew! And now that a bunch of outsiders have come along, they've probably gone to get another crew to follow you!"
Zefiro, not wanting his valuable historical asset in the hands of the Order of the Rack, or worse set ablaze on one of their clarity pyres, is going to need some hand holding and sweet talking before he's willing to give you the next link in the chain.
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"I am not used to all this sneakiness." "Maybe we should just ask them why and for whom they are spying? It might save a lot of time. If possible, you could tell them the information they want and then they could just leave."
Lybram is not serious, he is just wishing for simpler times. You know, the ones that are usually related with a story like "back home we would just go over and ..."
Zefiro seems to calm down, reminded of his promised connection to the society. "Fine, yes, I'll help you, but the House Thrune is on my tail and the tail of my allies. You need to help me secure my friend, Mirielle Goldenglow. She's a vital source of information for the history of Corentyn." He hands over a piece of parchment with two addresses. One is the Fox Den, a private club, and the other the address of a safe house.
"Also, you might have use for this. This scroll was penned in the same Chelish temple that Iomedae herself studied in as a young intitiate.
The vellum is brittle with age, and the once dark ink is now a faded red. This scroll is especially potent thanks to its connection to the Inheritor. When activated as a magic scroll, it replicates the effects of both bless and consecrate in a 40-foot radius. If an undead creature or evil outsider is within this area, the caster can end the consecrate effect as a free action to grant every weapon wielded by creatures affected by the bless effect the holy weapon property for 1 round. If activated by a worshiper of Iomedae, all of the scroll’s durations are doubled.
The address leads you down to a seaside section of town. The smell of raw fish, stale sweat, and old booze permeates this section of the West Drenches. Broken pathways are slick with mud where they aren’t simply flooded. Small wooden buildings are built around narrow canals brimming with dark water that flows swiftly out to sea. Sounds of a busy business district quiet intermittently, at which time the groaning boats and boisterous sailors in the nearby port are just loud enough to hear.
The door to the Fox's Den is closed and locked. When you attempt to open the door, an eye slot opens up. A women's face appears in the ele slot. "We don't allow strangers in here..." She says, accusingly.
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"Thank you for the help. I will try and use it wisely in the aid of our mission." "The Inheritor...it sure looks old."
Lybram carefully stores away the scroll.
At the door, Lybram attempts to help with the door confrontation.
"Yes, we are here to help. Could you let us in and we can figure all this out more discreetly?" while flashing his friendliest smile.
"No, I'm not Mirielle," the woman behind the door says, "But if you know that name, Zefiro must have sent you."
"Be quiet, she's in the middle of her story,"
She opens the door and ushers you in quickly. She gives a quick glance around and then shuts the door again. Inside, sitting in front of a fireplace, surrounded by children, a middle-aged elven woman with chestnut hair and a simple but elegant rust-colored dress sits. She's telling a story, her eyes closed. Its a story of Rius Galdaeon, a paladin of Shelyn and an architect from here in Corentyn. Its a story of a good man who fought, who resisted the House of Thrune. Its a story of Baraxial, a devil sent to imprison a city, and how when the two clashed, the sea rose and fell and the city felt each blow. How Rius had the upper hand, but Baraxial dragged the paladin to Hell.
She opens her eyes, and scratches the ear of the old dog at her feet, who seems to be sleeping comfortably. "That's when I knew I had to flee Corentyn for a time."
"Unfortunately, the recent history of Cheliax is that not all good men get what the deserve," Mirielle says sadly, "Sometimes you fight and lose, but that doesn't make the fight matter less."
Both Bacleive and Iladora notice the dog's ears perk up, and they quickly realize what causes the hound to stir. The sound of clanging armor approaches.
A hush falls on the private club as the two alert people to the coming sounds.
"Zefiro sent you, yes?" Mirielle says, a hint of panic in her voice, "You have to get me out of here. The Order of the Rack has been after me."
"There's a back door, hidden, back there," the door woman says.
Now, Zefiro needs Mirielle safe, but Ambrus Valsin's words on the need to avoid a diplomatic incident remain fresh in your minds. You have only a few moments to decide on a plan of action. What do you do?
"Some of you should stay behind, and try to distract the guards if you can." the club's keeper says, "You won't be able to make a clean getaway if they aren't distracted by something."
"They aren't looking for children," Mirielle says sadly, "They're looking for me."
There's a loud rap on the door as the Pathfinders split into groups. "We've got a warrant from the Hellknights, open up if you know what's good for you." There's a single man at the door, while a partner sits with his back to the escaping group.
The streets are crowded and there's many commoners coming and going in all directions. Its clear that just straight running will draw too much attention.
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"Alright, alright, just a moment..."
Kent does his best to keep up some cheerful banter, as he fumbles around, trying to open the door, incidentally being quite clumsy about it, and giving the party a chance to escape.
Whilst doing so, he natters away with the guards, asking what it is like to work for the government, what life is like in town, if they have any recommendations for places to grab a bite to eat, et cetera.
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Lybram adds to the questions about the town. "Are there any unique sites to see that you recommend? You must get to see alot of the city. What areas would a cautious man stay out of?" "Glad to see the hellknights doing the important work of the government." "Could I see the warent? very impressive, I think that is almost a work of art."
"Sir, I need you to restrain that animal while we execute this warrant!" the guard says harshly, though unlike his partner, he stays where he is.
The partner swings around the building, thinking he saw something suspicious about the black-haired woman skulking about, but he doesn't seem to be able to track them in the crowd.
With Baclieve simply bumping into the guard, the guard loses focus for a moment as he checks to make sure that the Varisian didn't make off with his coin purse.
Kent and Darius's mummer show delays the other guard.
Finally, Iladora expertly moves Mirielle through the crowd to get her to a safe distance. Mirielle assures her escorts that she can make it from here.
Iladora and Entorra are able to quickly get back to the Fox's Den and discreetly give the two inside an all clear through the open door.
The party is able to quietly extricate themselves from the Fox's Den and return to Zefiro's museum, with only the birds and crows overhead watching. Zefiro is heartened by your success in getting an important first-hand source of uncensored Chelish history to safety. In return, he provides some of the few remaining copies of some of Thrune's wartime decrees.
The Society arranged for you to stay at the Wicked Fork, an inn marked with a trident missing its central tine. The proprietor is talkative, though he seems to be well aware that as outsiders and adventurers, you might not have the loosest of lips.
The next morning, Cassian is at the inn's barroom, nursing an ale. He looks haggard, like he hadn't slept the night before. He downs the beer when he sees the party.
"Fokkin' Chelish back-biters," he growls, "I've been doing what Dralneen asked and met her contact here in Corentyn. It was the same little halfling that inspected our boat when we arrived, if you can believe it. I deliver her message to him, and I find out that he's an Aspsis agent! His ties go back, way back. Everyone's working their own agenda, got themselves tied to carts movin' in the night."
He shakes his head, orders another ale. "I got all your gear and s#@% rounded up and its at the city gates. Me, I'm gonna head back home to Duwwor, and then see what I can find about Zarta being back to her old tricks. Good luck."
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"Thanks for your help. Sorry to hear the other news, I have no dealings with Zarta and wouldnot know what 'old tricks' are anyway." "How far is Duwwor and where is it anyway?" "Going to see your family is a good thing. Good Luck to you." "Will we still see you at the boat to leave in a few weeks? We could link up somewhere and return to Absalom together." "Thanks again."
Lybram is ready to go and nods to Kent to indicate it.