The towers and villas of Taldor's capital, Oppara, were once plated with gold, granting it the title the Gilded City, a name that remains to this day. The precious metal was long ago stripped by vandals and salvagers. The Imperial Palace and Senate are located here, as are two renowned bardic schools - Kitharodian Academy and Rhapsodic College. The oldest known temple to Aroden, the Basilica of the Last Man, is located in Oppara, though its clergy and influence are but a shadow of their former selves.
Despite its diminished political state, the variety of entertainment Oppara hosts is second to none. Puppeteers compete with dancers and musicians for attention along the main streets and in some of the nicer eateries.
One of the side streets branching away from the louder frivolities and towards a shocking number of shops is home to a small, but busy bakery. Inside, a young man packages purchases and accepts their money while a woman who clearly shares his heritage wipes down a table after a group of five patrons leave.
This is where you gather, lured in by the scents of fruit pastries, cheesy and nutty breads, and a variety of baked sweets.
The young woman greets you cheerfully as you enter: "Oh, are you Mister Muesello's guests? Here, we've set aside a table for you." On the table is a large platter covered in cheese, pastries, and a variety of rolls. There are several clay jugs and a quick taste test reveals that the beverages are a lightly spiced apple wine, a beer, and fruit juice.
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At least they know how to receive their hosts, thinks the wayang before he nods to the young woman. Being extremely gaunt, with pixielike stature and skin the color of deep shadow, the small one goes to the table showed by the hostess. He's wearing practical clothes, a pistol in a pocket in bandoleer and a dagger on the belt.
With shyness he says: Thank you
"Not at all! It's all paid up, so go ahead and get comfortable. He can be a while, that man!" she speaks cheerfully. "Just flag me or my brother down if you need anything! Oh, and let me know how the cherry turnovers are! We've been testing the recipe to see if we can improve it!"
The work she's doing is straightforward - she's gathering dishes, clearing tables, and helping customers that are eating in while moving back and forth between the front of the store, where the tables and benches are, and the back, which must be where all of the baking and cooking is done.
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A small halfling in light leather walks toward the table, thanking the young woman. He looks over the table (his nose barely gets over the edge), notices the beer, and immediately pulls out a tankard roughly the size of his head.
He then turns to the wayang, and asks, "Do you think we can start? That beer smells really good, but I don't want to be disrespectful."
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The small wayang remains alone a little while, looking at all what occurs in the shop. When the halfling arrives and wants to take care of the meals placed on the table, he doesn't know what to answer at the first sight. But then he says: I suppose, yes.
On one hand it would be something they can get for sure, and they don't know what will come in the future, but on the other hand somebody must still come.
A couple of minutes pass and when the young woman realizes that the two who have already arrived have yet to touch the food, she pouts, tucking a well wrung, mostly clean looking rag into her apron pocket. "Honestly now, the food's not bad! And you've only got so much time before he'll come and get you. Eat up!"
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A just pushing 6 feet tall deeply tanned Taldan human steps into the room. His long half-greying hair seems to clash with his youthful looking face, though his nose buried in the book he's reading makes it hard to see all of it. His bag and the bandolier across his chest are filled to the bursting and with plenty of small things dangling from every place that would take an item. His hair is held back and off his face by a very old, what-was-probably-once white band with few characters in Tian and the Minkai dragon in green. The grey of the headband seems to highlight the grey in the man's short pointed beard.
Below his face is a set of leather armor covered in little plates of metal riveted to the leather in overlapping designs that spell out another Tain character, this one meaning mountain. His leather breaches are tucked into a tall pair of what looks like very soft, suede leather boots with a beaded design attached to the back.
As he moves into the room, the man gives the woman an acknowledging wave, his eyes never leaving the page of his book, he takes a seat at the indicated table and absent-mindedly grabs one of the cherry turnovers and takes a bite. He chews for a second before perking right up and giving the young woman a look straight in the face. "These are really good! Did you make these?" he glances around and finally notices that there are others there in the room with him. He gives them a slightly embarrassed look and then extends a hand still covered in flakey pastry dough. "Oh! Sorry, didn't notice you there! My name is Yates Ashkoont. I'm new to the society, and it's my first real job after being emancipa.... *ahem* never mind that. I do hope you can show me how things are supposed to be done!"
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Shortly after Yates makes his introduction, an Elf walks into the room. "Behold! It is I, Ilathor VALMAXIAN!" he exclaims, his arms wide and above his head, as though he were making himself vulnerable to a shower of applause. Not dissuaded by the lack thereof, he glides over to the table and takes a seat, scooping up a variety of cheeses and several slices of a thin, nutty bread as he does so. "The table with the most eclectic bunch is always the one for the Society! Isn't this city wonderful?! Such rich history, Oppara, but a shell of its former self, clinging to the trappings of finery and the glorious mantle of an age gone by.... But I digress! It is a pleasure to meet you all!" he says before helping himself to the spiced apple wince. "Even in a human bakery there are marvelous things to indulge in! What brings you all to the Society, eh? Tell me your story!" he invites the group.
"I did!" she beams at Yates. "Usually, my mother handles the pastries, but I've been working on tweaking the recipe for these a little to help the flavors pop a bit more. I'm glad to hear you like them!" A bit absently, she adds, "My name is Patricia."
When Ilathor appears, exuberant and certainly excitable, she grins softly before pulling a small pad of paper from her second apron pocket. "Hmmm, it looks like we're still missing one or two people. Once everyone's arrived and had some time to get to know each other - and eaten up! - I'll be taking you over to Mister Muesello's shop."
She rolls her shoulders gently, her chest proudly puffed out. "We at Patsy's Premier Pastries are among the best of the best here in Oppara! We're a small shop, but no less in quality for it!"
A call from the back snags her attention and she quickly excuses herself, carrying a large, rectangular tray of dirty dishes to the back of the shop.
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The door opens once more, and a child-sized creature made of twigs and vines marches in. "Behold!" she declares with her arms above her head as if imitating Ilathor, "it is I, Angry Magic Tree!" Satisfied with his performance, he walks over to an empty seat and clambers up to stand next to the seated Pathfinders. "It's so odd to be back in Oppara," she says through a mouthful of pastry. "The last time I was here, we had to talk to a princess and she turned us all into nights!" He pauses, a confused look on his face. "But it's day now..."
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Beaming with joy, Ilathor immediately stands and begins hooting and hollering at the newcomer. "YEAH! Angry Magic Tree! Give it up everybody! HOO HOO HOO HOO!" he cheers. Now that's an entrance, haha! Traveling with this fellow will be marvelous, I'm sure.
"A Princess? Please, do tell the story! As of yet, nobody has been willing to share their own. Why not start with you?!" he offers as he reloads his plate with delicate pastries.
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The door opens and an average height tengu slips in, barely making a sound. Studded leather armor covers most of his dark, almost blue, mussed up feathers and a black hood sits slack atop his head. He nods and smiles at the patron of the shop and shifts the sickle at his side as he sits at the table. Tok Taket. Nice ta meet you all. Tok flicks a piece of cheese in the air, catches it with his scarred beak and washes it down with the spiced wine.
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"The table with the most eclectic bunch is always the one for the Society! Isn't this city wonderful?! Such rich history, Oppara, but a shell of its former self, clinging to the trappings of finery and the glorious mantle of an age gone by.... But I digress! It is a pleasure to meet you all!" he says before helping himself to the spiced apple wince. "Even in a human bakery there are marvelous things to indulge in! What brings you all to the Society, eh? Tell me your story!" he invites the group.
Yates gives the man a absent minded smile as the vivacious elf saunters into the room, but it's not until he mentions the topic of Oppara's history that Yates finally takes notice of the man. With a broad grin Yates holds up the book in his hands. "I was just reading up on the topic of the city's history! I would have never though that the city predated Aroden himself!"
His eyes darken some as the topic turns to stories. With a heavy sigh, he pauses to think for a moment before continuing. "Well I guess there is no reason to hide it, as it's likely to come out at some point or another, but I used to be a slave in Absalom. Was raised my whole life believing that I was from Arcadia only to discover after getting freed from being a 'living exhibition' in a museum that my mother was a Pathfinder from the outskirts of Oppara and my father from Garund." He raises his hands in a huff before bringing them back down and continuing, "Hoping to learn a little more about my roots on the trip, though the book and just wandering the streets has been pretty informative."
"I did!" she beams at Yates. "Usually, my mother handles the pastries, but I've been working on tweaking the recipe for these a little to help the flavors pop a bit more. I'm glad to hear you like them!" A bit absently, she adds, "My name is Patricia."
Yates gives the woman a smile and asks, "These are really good pastries, Patricia. Do you have any raspberry ones in the back?"
The door opens once more, and a child-sized creature made of twigs and vines marches in. "Behold!" she declares with her arms above her head as if imitating Ilathor, "it is I, Angry Magic Tree!" Satisfied with his performance, he walks over to an empty seat and clambers up to stand next to the seated Pathfinders. "It's so odd to be back in Oppara," she says through a mouthful of pastry. "The last time I was here, we had to talk to a princess and she turned us all into nights!" He pauses, a confused look on his face. "But it's day now..."
Yates, his nose back in the book, absently nibbling on another pastry, gives the bare minimum acknowledgement that a small angry tree had walked into the room. It's not until the man looks up to see his first real knight that he realizes just what the Angry was. Giving the leshy a good long look, Yates decides to try sliding a question in. "You're a ...knight, then?"
The door opens and an average height tengu slips in, barely making a sound. Studded leather armor covers most of his dark, almost blue, mussed up feathers and a black hood sits slack atop his head. He nods and smiles at the patron of the shop and shifts the sickle at his side as he sits at the table. Tok Taket. Nice ta meet you all. Tok flicks a piece of cheese in the air, catches it with his scarred beak and washes it down with the spiced wine.
Realizing that the people arriving at the table might be more interesting than the Detailed and Unabridged History of Oppara: A Primer, though just barely, Yates stays attentive to the conversation as Tok enters the room. He gives the tengu a proper Tian greeting, though in a variation that sounds like he'd lived 200 years ago, before turning back to the walking talking TREE in the room.
"I do!" Patricia nods when she returns, pleased. A quick glance at her notepad and another at the table. "I'll pack some up for you to take with you, shall I? Grab your fill now! I'm to take you to Mister Muesello!" At that last, she gives a quick wink before disappearing into the back once more, this time returning with a package wrapped in brown paper.
"Feel free to take some for the road, if you'd like," Patricia urges as she passes the package to the human. "But we should be going now that we're all here! He's just down this way..."
Without pause, she smooths a few of the wrinkles in her apron and then steps out the front of the shop. Patricia smoothly steps into the flow of people moving through the street, moving swiftly only to come to a stop in front of what looks to be a simple bait and tackle shop. Pivoting, she gives a bit of a grin before opening the door and bowing you into the store. Once the last of the group is safely inside, she gives a cheerful, "Until next time! before letting the door shut and returning to her own store.
Inside, a pockmarked, gray-haired man greets you with a smile, motioning for everyone to gather in the building's back room. He steps by only to lock the door and prop a sign in the window that reads "Gone fishing."
The back room holds another person in it already - a lady sits at a table by a small fireplace.
Once everyone has found themselves comfortable, seated or standing, Venture-Captain Muesello quietly closes the door behind him before speaking. "The Pathfinder Society does not have a sterling reputation in Taldor, despite my and others' efforts to impress the local movers and shakers. As a result, the most prestigious universities and colleges often deny our agents access to the best libraries in Oppara, thinking we are meddling good-for-nothings. As one of the oldest intact civilizations near the Inner Sea, these libraries no doubt house some very precious volumes. Recently, we received a most wondereful opportunity - an invitation, really, from a very powerful patron," he adds as he withdraws a scroll tube with a broken wax seal from his apron.
"This patron will secure us a couple hours in the rare books collection at the Kitharodian Academy, during which we may peruse for whatever we wish so long as we also retrieve several documents of interest for our friend. That," he punctuates by tapping the scroll tube on the table, "is where things get interesting. Apparently there is an even more precious archive hidden beneath the academy's library, and our patron believes it to contain numerous original records and undoctored historical accounts otherwise unknown to the world! Our contact knkows how to get into the archive and has shared the secret with us.
"Two hours is little time, so you must make the most of your time. I know it will be tempting to research other interests, but it would be selfish for the Society to think of itself when the Worldwound's borders threaten to envelop Mendev and beyond. I am sending you in with the express purpose of uncovering more information about the Shining Crusad, the sustained war against the Whispering Tyrant a millennium ago."
Lady Morilla snaps open a fan to fend off the room’s growing warmth, adding, “Historically, Taldor is the authority on massive military
campaigns, but most texts have undergone extensive revision to serve some political agenda or another. Entering this hidden archive is an excellent opportunity to learn from the real mistakes of the past and apply those lessons to the Mendevian Crusade.
“Remember that you have permission to be in the academy’s library, but not in this secret archive, so do everything you can to avoid being noticed while exploring. In fact, the fewer clues you leave of your passage, the better. Specifically do not steal or destroy any of the library’s contents. A few slip-ups might alert the authorities that someone has been poking around, and too many with give them enough evidence to trace this act to us.”
Muesello opens a drawer in the table and begins pulling out a couple small parcels wrapped in cloth. “Any questions?”
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Ilathor graciously accepts the comfiest seat in the room and listens attentively to their briefing. "An Opparan Library Caper! What an event to be a part of! This will be marvelous, I cannot wait for the opportunity to delve into these lost tomes, even for a moment! Let's be on our way," he says, getting up from his seat and heading for the door. Seeing that not everyone is immediately following him he waits very impatiently at the door.
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DC 15 Knowledge(nobility)
Tok stands leaned up against a wall and listens intently for every bit of info there is to gather from the old man. "This job sounds like quite the caper and right up my alley."
"I'm glad to hear it," Venture-Captain Muesello nods his approval. "Not everyone's confident when they're asked to do something beyond 'hit the thing'."
Ilathor graciously accepts the comfiest seat in the room and listens attentively to their briefing. "An Opparan Library Caper! What an event to be a part of! This will be marvelous, I cannot wait for the opportunity to delve into these lost tomes, even for a moment! Let's be on our way," he says, getting up from his seat and heading for the door. Seeing that not everyone is immediately following him he waits very impatiently at the door.
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"You needn't rush," Lady Morilla says, speaking a bit dryly. "You've some time before your appointment tomorrow."
Chuckling, Muesello adds, "I didn't want to rush you right into it, seeing as it's a delicate sort of work. Caution and discretion are far more important than combat ability or valor, though I expect you to have plenty of both if things take a bad turn with the tight schedule."
Xavier looks between the venture captain and Ilathor. "Soo... are we expecting any resistance when we get in there? I mean, given the Society's luck, of course there are, but is there anything specific to be on the lookout for."
"If the archive is truly secret, then it's unlikely that you will encounter many people," the pockmarked man says consideringly. "But I imagine there might be traps, so be careful and resourceful." After a brief pause, Lady Morilla speaks up.
"Tomorrow evening, the Kitharodian Academy will host an extravagent orchestral performance in celebration of the Grand Prince's birthday. Such an event should last several hours, and if the rumors are to be believed, the Kitharodian's finest intend to play a complex medley of Taldor's greatest songs. Several of these are rather dramatic at times, and the sound should drown out any noise you make. With any luck, the performance will also draw away most of the guards."
Muesello then slides the cloth-wrapped parcels towards the group. "This one," he says, tapping the first parcel, "contains a deck of illusions that I am in the process of modifying; instead of each card creating a random creature, each one creates a copy of one of you. The illusions won't interact with anyone, but they can pretend to be reading and deceive the casual observer. Each only lasts for two hours, though. Stick a card to the bottom of a chair to create the illusion, and don't forget to remove the card when you're done. The other package contains several potions in case of emergency."
Penetrate in a wonderful library, seeking for information. That's a good job for a wizard. Well, the difficulty is not to take something away.
And how can we take these information? Should we transcript them? If we shouldn't take the document with us... I mean.
The Venture-Captain considers the question briefly before answering, "Do your best to keep hold of the information we need. If you can, memorize the information, but I'd rather accurately written data than poorly remembered information."
"That will be a potion of invisibility and a potion of pass without trace," Muesello grunts out. He eyes each of you briefly, before also digging out a several dozen sheets of paper and some writing utensils. "You'd better take these, too. There's no sense in being underprepared."
Xavier's eyes wander for a second, and they settle on the seal of the scroll. He looks at it curiously, tilting his head. "What's that weird symbol on the seal mean?"
"It's the seal of Princess Eutropia," the Venture-Captain explains, passing the scroll case over. "It's also proof that we're performing some small piece of a larger political plan, even if we benefit from the service. That said, I would hate to lose an entire team of promising Pathfinders. If you must, use this as a bargaining chip..." Gesturing at it, he adds, "Nearly anyone you meet will look at you more favorably if you surrender it, but doing so would certainly risk our friend's cover. I'm giving it to you because I trust your discretion in the matter."
"I'm afraid not," Muesello says, shaking his head. "They're one-time use only, so make sure you place them in a good spot! Anyways, I expect you'll be spending all of your time finding the relevant information, so these cards should be... temporary body doubles."
Exhaling, he looks each of you over before asking, "Do you have any further questions?"
Satisfied with the transfer of information, the two see you out, giving you the rest of the day and the night to make any preparations you may choose.
K-Y-V-W-K-C-E-C-O-O-M-I-M-E-C-F-G-C-Q-F-C
"Valsin contacted me with this, but it's in a Taldan cipher we've yet to crack. If you find any notes about old codes that work for this message, report back with your findings."
The Kitharodian Academy sits atop the northern cliffs of Oppara and has an impressive view of the Porthmos River valley. The school boasts architecture as lovely as its music, and elegant domes, towers, and columns adorn the principle music hall. Tonight, mirror-focused lanterns and dancing lights illuminate the structure, making the academy a radiant beacon of Taldor's greatness.
Gathering in front of the bard college, also known as "the Kith", the party is treated to the sight of commoners and nobility alike jostling each other to enter the music hall.
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"I suppose we should all try to find a way into the inner sanctum, then get to finding and reading the texts we find?" Illathor offers, unsure what else anyone who do in a library lost to bureaucratic machinations. "If reading somehow isn't your thing, I suppose you could just be on watch duty or something?" The Elf is practically jumping up and down in excitement, thoughts of ancient and forgotten firsthand documents running through his keen mind.
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"I would really like ta find a more discreet way into tha library, just in case. We have an invitation to get in so that's easy enough. We need to find the entrance ta tha basement before we set the cards, then the clock is ticking. Once we are in the inner sanctum (checking for traps and pitfalls the whole way) we might want to pair into groups of two. One who has enough knowledge of what we are looking for and one to write it. In and out in under two hours."
Tok routinely checks his backpack to make sure that everything is in order for the job at hand.
The crush of people is slowly becoming more organized as little by little, the crowds are able to make it into the hall the concert is being held. As the crowd begins to thin, several of the workers and organizers begin to become more visible.
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"Yes, indeed! That is what we are doing, is it not?" Ilathor points out before heading off to the nearest organizer. "Excuse me, we have been offered the opportunity to use the Kitharodian Rare Books section of the Library. Might you point us in the right direction? We mustn't be late for our appointment!"
"As you can no doubt see, we're very busy," is the somewhat flustered response Ilathor gets. At the mention of an appointment, however, the attendant looks a bit puzzled. "An appointment? Now? Have you a letter or some way to prove this?"
"While we do have such a system, we do require evidence that you are, in fact, the person who is supposed to be here. Have you a letter of introduction or something to prove that you're in the correct place?"
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"Oh, why of course!" Ilathor says as he pats down his cloak. "Er... Well I-" Surprised, he quickly stops talking when Tok Taket produces the scroll. "Ah ha! Why of course, there it is! To the library now, eh?" the Elf asks. Ugh why must this be so difficult? You will likely never see us again, just take us to the library!
The man carefully examines the letter from beginning to end before startling, "Oh! This is from Arch-Exarch Gregorian! Why didn't you just say so?" Satisfied, he gestures to another of the staff members before leading the way. "Please, follow me."
As he leads, he warns, "I know some of you may be tempted to tear or claw these texts, but the consequences will be dire! Do keep your bestial natures at bay."
The library is nearly empty thanks to the imminent performance, but a young Taldan man comes to the door at the staff member's sharp knock.
"Oh, yes, thank you! I'll take them from here," he says, accepting the letter and dismissing your guide.
He reads over the letter quickly before he looks each of you over and nodding. "I am Tobias, the librarian on duty. I'll show you to the restricted section, as per this library, but you'll have to leave in two hours, once the performance has ended."
Returning the letter to Tok and straightening his scholarly clothing, he adds, "Please don't damage any of the books. If you've animals, we can temporarily keep them elsewhere." He meets everyone's eyes. "But we really cannot let wild beasts into the area." Having said that, please, come."
A large table stands at the center of the large room, whose walls are lined with rows upon rows of inset shelves. A set of double doors is the only way into the room, and two stone statues depicting bearded scholars with open books are the only other decorations.
"You need only call out if you need me," Tobias reminds the group. "But I'll be back in two hours to escort you out." Having said his piece and done his job, he leaves and quietly shuts the door behind him.
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"Do you think they knew I was a night?" Angry Magic Tree asks as she looks around the room full of words. "And why would the letter say to study honor, glory, and courage? Do you think there's a section on courage here? I know all about that!" The leshy marches off happily to start reading the titles on the lowest shelves for such a theme.