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"With all this information we thought it wise to try and catch the robbers redhanded and we volunteered to transport Caiden Cailen's last keg. We ware ambushed, but we overtook our ambushers. They told us that they were hired by a woman in a grey cloak and told us where the den of the thieves was located. We searched said compond and found these papers that implicate Parani Akar. We were on our way to submit this evidence when we were attacked. We were lucky to be able to subdue her, so she can face these accusations in a fair trial."
Runewolf stands impassively through Uldar's presentation of the evidence, and even signals to a few of the Greycloaks to bring him the footlocker, which he roots through as Uldar talks. There's a few interruptions - at one point, the guards compare the found arrow to the fletching in Parani's quiver, and a few guards find Barleyhusk to confirm her version of events - but within an hour Runewolf has decided that he's heard enough. "Good work here," he says stoically, prodding Parani with a foot. "Us and the city watch will take her from here."
The trial takes a few weeks to get up and running, but the wealth of evidence you uncovered makes it an open-and-shut case - Parani Akar is found guilty of murder and theft, as well as a host of supporting crimes, and is sent to prison for a long time. While you personally get some threats and glares from a few surly and presumably crooked guards, the overall tensions between the Absalom City Guard and the notorious "murder hobos" over at the Pathfinder Society actually lessen - seems like a new dawn of cooperation between the Society and the City might be arriving thanks to your restraint.
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Cloudia leaves the god haters and surly guards and returns to Absalom and family. Though she brags a bit about her role in these 'major events', her family is far more impressed with her cousin's upcoming marriage to a captain of the guards no less than the happenings in a far off land. Such is the life of a pathfinder.
“It is truly a pleasure to be back.” Venture Captain Drandle Dreng takes a seat at the head of the table and leafs through the papers set before him. “Some of you might have worked with me before my… furlough. And I look forward to reminiscing, but first it seems we need to spend the next few hours tidying up the paperwork you’ve accumulated overt the course of your adventures.” He wets his cracked lips. “First, we have this extradition order from Cheliax for... Oh my. Well, I’m sure the Society can—“
A blue-grey shape crashes through the window and lands on the oak table with a metallic schwak! The tangle of wings and claws eventually stands, a gleaming silver raven, and opens its mouth. “G—gods help me, Dreng, I’m dying,” a distant male voice sputters from the bird. “Men in black—came for… Numeria exhibits. It’s Nigel... I’ve been shot! You owe me, you old bastard!”
Dreng’s lips crack and pop as they tighten. “Well… Sounds like you lot need to head to the Wise District. That sounds like Nigel Aldain, so go to the Blakros Museum. If he lives through the night, I might be able to make something of this—” he waves a hand over the mound of parchment, “disappear.”
The Blakros Mueum is a small, old, ugly building in the Wise District that displays historical treasures. It is open to the public, for a small fee.
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Aurus marches into the briefing in a combative mood. "I take two days - TWO DAYS - off to get my new breastplate fitted, and I drop by the pub for a pint with some of the flatfoots and I hear that you lot are going around arresting guards now?? I'm telling you, that Uldar... seems like we're always getting into extra trouble when he's around..."
He listens intently when Dreng gives the order. "The Wise District, got it. Erm... Numeria's the exhibit with the... uh... animals with the...?" The half-elf trails off, hoping that Dreng might supply them with some information, as he clearly nodded off during that particular lesson at the Bardic college.
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"How long do you think this will take? I'm supposed to be at my cousin's wedding tomorrow. My mom will be SOOO pissed if I miss it."
No me though. I swear if Mac pinches my butt one more time, I'll sic a viper on him! But then my mother would NEVER forgive me. Bad enough I became a Pathfinder.
"Say, if you like oatmeal cookies, I could use a plus one at the thing."
And maybe a nice burly 'date' might dissuade him from groping. Some best man. *sigh* I wish I was less timid.
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"How long do you think this will take? I'm supposed to be at my cousin's wedding tomorrow. My mom will be SOOO pissed if I miss it."
No me though. I swear if Mac pinches my butt one more time, I'll sic a viper on him! But then my mother would NEVER forgive me. Bad enough I became a Pathfinder.
"Say, if you like oatmeal cookies, I could use a plus one at the thing."
And maybe a nice burly 'date' might dissuade him from groping. Some best man. *sigh* I wish I was less timid.
"I ain't been worried about cookies at a wedding since I started findin' out about open bars at a wedding - long as you can promise there'll be ale and that I won't have to do any line dancin', I'll come along. Not that I'd say no to a non-wedding-related batch of cookies if we're talkin' baked goods..."
The half-elf's stomach grumbles. "Great. I'm blamin' you for that, Luk."
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Mao smiles as he sees Aurus join them. "It's good to have you with us again, friend. It looks like we're having another 'trip' at the Blakros Museum. Fun times, eh?"
He then turns to Dreng. "Pardon our forgetfulness, but could you tell us more about Nigel? And what is in that Numeria exhibit that could be worth all this trouble?"
Mao smiles as he sees Aurus join them. "It's good to have you with us again, friend. It looks like we're having another 'trip' at the Blakros Museum. Fun times, eh?"
He then turns to Dreng. "Pardon our forgetfulness, but could you tell us more about Nigel? And what is in that Numeria exhibit that could be worth all this trouble?"
“Nigel is a… a friend. He curates the Blakros Museum. A curious sort, but not the kind of man to claim he’s dying unless someone’s actually stuck him. He’s a former member of the Society and gives us special access to research and artifacts. I'm sure you've met him before if you ever had dealings in the museum.”
“I've got no idea about the Numeria exhibit. I do know Numeria is a large wasteland to the north that’s more of a wilderness of barbarian tribes than a real nation.”
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Cloudia visibly brightens with Aurus' offer.
"Oh, my, yes. Guard captain weds baker's daughter. I can guarantee you there will be both drink and baked goods."
...
"We found out a bit about that place on a past mission. It has some rather ancient and otherworldly history that draws chaos and mayhem. I have absolutely no doubt Nigil is up to his neck in trouble... again."
Cloudia rummages around in her backpack.
"Antitoxin, check, Alchemist's Fire, check, Acid, check, Protection from evil, check, restoration, check. Hmmm. I'm ready. Let's get this over with, I have an appointment with a hairdresser tonight."
The dark, blocky architecture of the Blakros Museum squats stubbornly between the more impressive government buildings of the Wise Quarter. One of the older buildings in Absalom, it remains unchanged and lacks the ornamentation of its newer neighbors. Imposing statues of armored men flank the entrance ahead, one partially obscured by a halffallen banner reading “Grand New Exhibition!” A blue flicker intermittently tints the dark windows, casting long, dull shadows over the groomed gardens and fountain. A crumpled figure in bloodstained robes lies against the fountain’s edge.
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On the way, Cloudia will use her wand to cast mage armor on herself and Mao while chattering about wedding stuff. When they get there and she sees the presumably unconscious man, she rains some heavenly fire down on him.
, will heal if good, harm if evil, and have no effect if neutral.
Then rushes forward and gives him a shake for good measure.
"Are you all right?"
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As you approach the man shouts out a warning:
“Keep your heads down fools! They could be anywhere!”
Cloudia's ray of light doesn't have any effect, but the man replies
“Are you Pathfinders? Did Dreng send you? It was... it was... it was in no way my fault! We took every precaution! Tomorrow was going to be such an event, unveiling the new museum, and absolutely nothing could go wrong! I personally inspected every artifact that came in, as both a scholar and a wizard. Everything was harmless as a newborn lamb! And anything the least bit suspicious went right into the lockbox! We even made sure those bizarre “robots” of theirs were neutralized!”
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"Rrrrrooobots? Oh my. Did the robots escape? Are they shooting at you?"
Cloudia looks around for any evidence of Numerian robots in the windows with techie blasters or something.
All of a sudden she freezes for a second and then violently throws herself behind the nearest protection.
I really do NOT want to find out what ray guns do to hair.
The poor elf starts to faint.
Aurus crouches down and taps the man with a spell of CLW. "C'mon, Nigel, you son-of-a-gun, hold steady."
Aurus taps the curator with his wand, but it doesn't prevent Nigel from fainting.
When Cloudia realizes that Nigil is a wimp and that nobody is firing at her, she rises from her hiding place.
"He's not going to be much help, is he? I'm thinking we will need to go in alone. Well, I guess I can try to revive him."
[dice=heal]1d20
Cloudia figures Nigil is currently in shock, but that a quick slap in the face should help him snap out.
The gnome will use his connection to his wand to cast Mage armor on himself [4th level caster so it lasts for 4 hours] and will tap the monk to give him some more protection.
Cloudia gives Nigil a good shake and gives his pointy ear a pinch if that does not work.
"Nigil! Snap out of it. Think of the Blackroses! You don't want to embarrass them."
It takes Nigel a moment, but Cloudia manages to bring him back.
“It was those vile cultists! They struck in the night like cowards! Oh, Abadar preserve my poor staff! None of us know how to fight. I went to find help and those Numerian monsters shot me in the back! I blacked out. Thought I’d gone on to the Boneyard, but when I awoke I called for assistance. I don’t know how many of my workers are still alive! Pendleton was in there!”
“You have to do something. They could destroy the entire museum! Half of that exhibit belongs to you people!”
If Cloudia is able to revive Nigel, Mao asks some more questions.
"We really need your help, Nigel. Tell us about the Numeria exhibit.
“The Pathfinder Society has been helping me recover and smuggle in artifacts from Numeria; strange machines and golems and the like. They wanted to study them, but the Museum’s been bleeding donors after all the recent… embarrassments these past few years. And after being closed for the renovations, I hoped a nice exhibition of never-before seen exhibits would attract some interest.”
"Where are the men in black? Did they leave? They still here? What's going on, Nigel?
“I believe they are called the Technic League, some secret society out of Numeria. Clearly they did not like my acquisition of their artifacts. I assure you, almost no one told me how fanatically devoted they were to keeping their technology a secret.”
And what danger is waiting for us inside?"
“Next to the league, there's those Numerian machines called robots, sort of a golem, but it runs on lightning and needs little nodules in its head to think and obey. So we pulled those nodules out and threw them in the hazard crate.”
"Don't worry, Nigil, we'll take care of it."
“Save Pendleton. He is my nephew—my wife’s sister’s middle son. Nice enough lad. Head in the clouds. Dhrami thought a season or two working in the museum might teach him a bit about foreign cultures before they actually let him roam the world and embarrass us all abroad.”