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It is a hot, breezeless evening in Katapesh. Here, in a meeting room atop Farseer Tower, the curtains hang listlessly even with the windows thrown open. Unfortunately, the only thing hotter than the air is Venture-Captain Wulessa Yuul’s ire.
“Why must I share Katapesh with so-called equals who are
incompetent?” She huffs between gritted teeth, pacing back and
forth before calming herself. “My pardon. Let me explain. Some
months ago, the crypt of Zahari Mahiman—a scholar and sage from
the Age of Enthronement—was rediscovered out in the wastes. I,
personally, have long sought one artifact reputedly interred with
him: the Monadistic Archive, a collection of scrolls from the Jistkan
Imperium. Unfortunately,” she grits her teeth, “It fell under the
purview of the Kotargo Lodge to arrange an expedition. Venture-
Captain Dulm took his time getting things underway, in spite of my
own requests for urgency and offers of assistance. As a result, by
the time his agents got there, the place had already been looted.
Phlegos Dulm’s complacency aside, not all is bleak. The
adventurers who looted the crypt were not scholars; they were
simply looking to exploit the wonders of the past. The Monadistic
Archive, in particular, was sold to Palhuna Murqual, a merchant
here in Katapesh. I believe he bought the archive assuming it was
merely a magical storage device, not an esoteric repository of
lore indecipherable by him. He has shown interest in selling—at
a profit, of course—and I need you to make the purchase. I have
an Abadaran promissory note that should cover the price, but he
is crafty and may bargain for more. I want the archive, whatever it
costs. I can’t pay more gold than I already have offered, but if you
can find other means of appeasing Murqual, I encourage
you to do so.”
any questions?
Knowledge Check for Arcana and Local
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A dapper looking ratfolk dressed in well-worn, but fine clothing peeps up in a surprisingly soothing voice.
I’m sure we could help you m’lady, but it begs the question, what purpose does this archive serve for you? And if this Merchant, Palhuna, is to be found here in Katapesh, why can’t you negotiate this trade? This almost seems as if you expect there to be......complications.
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Do you want us to steal it?
“No! Absolutely not. The repercussions for
theft from a merchant in Katapesh are
truly severe.”
Arcana 20+ The Monadistic Archive is said to be a Jistkan collection
of knowledge.
What exactly is the Monadistic Archive, anyway?
“It is a chest containing numerous magical scrolls. I believe they are currently inactive, but I know a ritual to access their secrets. In fact, I might need your assistance with that later. Until then, it’s best not to open it.”
What ‘other means’ did you have in mind?
“Murqual is the sort who can see the value in a team of Pathfinders. That’s one reason I am sending you. After Dulm’s gaff, I also recognize that I am too incensed to deal with Murqual in person.”
He’ll want something from us?
“Possibly. I don’t want you to do anything illegal or immoral, but anything else that might win him over... well, see what he has to say.”
nothing from a local 10
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With a dour grimace, what sorts of illegal things does he normally ask for?
Looking at Cordon and the others with a slight bow Well met. Bendrikin Rathswain, he says with a flourish offering each of you as hearty a handshake as a ratfolk can muster, but everyone calls me Benny. This is my first time off the boat for an adventure, but I assume this fighting doesn’t get much different. Pointy end of the rapier goes in the bad guy and all that!
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Ram muses to himself as the Venture captain explains the situation. He bites down on a clove and chews it thoughtfully; He has spent very little time in the south and so the name Murqual doesn't really conjure up a picture.
Ram thinks back on the legends of the Garun continent, trying to recall anything more around the tombs of the Jistkan Imperium and the treasures therein.
He tugs at his beard at the suggestion of stealing the Archive; By the Ruby Prince, please, let us not resort to mish... mischiviness... michevess- criminal deeds like Murqual. I would hope we are above him, yes? I am sure he would see reason with enough persuasion, yes?
He pauses expectantly, clear eyes hopeful... then continues with a broad, friendly smile- teeth darkened by the constant chewing of cloves; My name is Ram Ironhand, from Osirion. He shakes the... paw of the oddly charasmatic ratman infront of him. His meaty fist swallowing the rodent's.
I greet you as a friend
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Finding Murqual’s shop is easy enough. A few discreet inquiries lead through the Lower City to a wooden door crowned by a plaque that reads “Palhuna Murqual, Vendor of Fetters, Bindings, and Cages Mundane and Mystic.” His establishment defies the stereotype for a shop in the infamous Nightstalls.
It boasts a permanent location, instead of one that could be broken down and moved with ease. It is quite lavishly appointed, rather than being a shadowy, smoky hovel, and the air smells of vanilla and cardamom rather than incense. Inside, deep carpeting covers the floor. Chains and shackles, ranging in size from mist-thin links to cuffs that would hold a titan, hang along one wall. Another wall holds an array of mirrors—some reflecting the room and some showing the insides of a bare cell.
Lanterns and cages hang from ceiling rafters, and glass cases hold etched gemstones and glass bottles. A central space is cleared of wares, instead sporting several plush seats arranged around a silver samovar.
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Picking up the chains and shackles, and looking at the cages, well, this place is certainly..... quaint. I suppose if we don’t find what we are looking for we might be able to build ourselves a small dungeon.
Looking around for someone fitting Murqual’s description. Good day, might there be someone who could help us?
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Entering the shop, Cordon, runs his hands along all of the chains onthe walls as of they were wind chimes and replies to Benny's comment with a side glance, "Yea, either that or a nice slave caravan".
He then knocks very loudly on a wooden table and says in a very stong voice " 'ELLOOO, ANYBODY THERE?"
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Should not we knock before enter- Ram protests lamely as his companions walk into the shop. What kind of work did Captain Yuul say Murqual was in?
Ram will wander around the room without touching anything. Unlike the rest of the others with him, Ram will show some self-control and keep his hands to himself. But when he comes to the gemstones his eyes light up and he picks them up quickly to examine them.
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The clanking of metal boots demands the attention of those nearby as a red-clad man strides into the shop. "Your ally has reportedly been delayed, I am to assist you in their stead." Asmodean imagery dangles from the hems of this new arrival's robes, a motif finished with a single red pentagram held defiantly in hand. "I am Visuris, a fledgling Pathfinder. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances."
Noticing the lack of any shopkeeper, his eyes scan the room until falling upon the prepared sitting arrangements. Our company must be expected. I do hope they already have the tea prepared. Visuris sits in one of the plush chairs, curious of his new companions.
A snakelike form can be seen coiled just under the collar inside the man's robes.
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"As am I," a quiet voice says from the doorway. A tall, slender fellow with blue skin bows to those inside. "Dhovahk, from the Lodge. I'm afraid we did not receive much information from the Venture-Captain - she seemed upset and simply gave us directions to this shop, saying, 'I don't have time for this - more lollygagging lazy latecomers like Dulm.'" He furrows his brow. "Are we here to meet someone then? And why does that mirror not reflect the room?"
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Ram turns sharply, hand curling around the gems he was carefully examining. He draws in a breath and gives a small bow.
Visuris, Dhovahk; I greet you both as friends. If indeed you are from the Venture-Captain as you say, but I do not see why she thinks we need more people on this simple retrieval job... Ram trails off... he pauses and looks at the new companions.
We are here to meet with a merchant called Murqual who has left this establishment in a state of... well... Ram waves his hand at the furnishings. What is more he does not appear to be here. We are to retrieve a chest containing scrolls- the Monadistic Archive. We could wait for him to return or search the place for the chest- I say wait but my impetous friends may thing otherwise. He gestures to the Gnome and Ratfolk expectantly.
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An obese man swaddled in silks occupies a sofa before the samovar. Standing to his left is a slim, younger man holding a ledger. The fat man makes a series of complicated hand gestures to the standing man, who, after a moment, bows to the group and speaks. “My esteemed master, Palhuna Murqual, bids you welcome. Please, be seated. Business should be conducted comfortably.”
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Visuris bows his head slightly, looking first to Murqual, then at the younger man. "Which of you should we address? After an appropriate answer, Visuris continues, comfortable in his deal-making element.
"We're here operating on behalf of the Pathfinder Society, I'll try to keep our meeting short so that you may return to your business. Several months ago some adventurers came into possession of an item of interest, this 'Monadastic Archive.' They sold it to your shop, and now we have a Venture Captain interested in becoming such an item's new owner. They've sent us to you with an offer most generous."
Visuris slides the note towards Murqual with a smile. "A promissory note of the church and bank of Abadar. I think you'll find the offer more than fair."
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the Heavyset man continues with the hand gestures as the other translates, "you may direct statements to me, I lost my voice years ago, and have used an interpreter to speak." looking at the interpreter he motions more and nods appreciatively at the promissory note
"I have unfortunately been made an offer far exceeding Wulessa's offer"
“While I respect the Pathfinder Society, to sell to you would seem favoritism. And I’m not inclined to favor one customer over another—without there being an equal favor, in return...”
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Ram mutters to Benny Ofcourse it wasn't going to be easy. If so why would the Venture-Captain send five of us?
Ram turns his attention to Murqual and smiles obsequiously, clove stained teeth not really doing him any favours; Perhaps if we visited your other customer we can make an arrangement with them. If you tell us who it is we will be out of your way presently
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Whispering to Ram, She seems a bit like a shady lady to me. I assumed there was a reason she sent we would need some muscle on this quest.
Flitting his eyes between Murqual and the interpreter, both confused but intrigued If you think we can’t convince your other customer, I’m sure a man such as you can see what value our services can be to aid our leadership. What exactly would you request in return for our trade?
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Visuris opens his mouth as if in protest, but his dismay turns to content satisfaction at Murqual's agreement. He gives his Ratfolk companion a sidelong glance. "Are you sure you aren't a shrew? Because that was shrewd negotiating."
He chortles slightly at his own jest then returns his attention to Murqual. "What 'services,' pray tell, did you have in mind? I'd prefer to keep our Society out of any illicit or illegal affairs."
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"I assure you I have nothing of the sort in mind, its just 3 tasks I request to be completed" he counts out the tasks with his fingers
“I have some sensitive merchandise being delivered by
problematic dealers."
"Another recent acquisition has some unpleasant protective magic that I need dealt with."
"Finally, you can be my agents to make a purchase from another acquaintance.”
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Ram frowns; Your requests sound rather vague- Where and when is your sensitive merchandise being delivered and are you expecting trouble from the dealers?
“I have some special goods being shipped in from the savanna tonight. I am short on staff to take the delivery, and I don’t care to be seen meeting with the deliverers. They’re gnolls. It’s a social status issue; I’m sure you understand.”
“I’ve had dealings with this tribe before. They tend to ‘forget’ the agreed upon price. You’ll be carrying some additional funds—I regard it as a standard tax when dealing with them—but beyond that, I expect you to convince them that they’re not getting any extra.”
his assistant will hand you all the required information of location, and the funding for what he has stated, for all three tasks.
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Ram's demeanour darkens and his jaw tightens; You deal with Gnolls. It was a statement of fact, not a question. He turns to address his companions; By the brother-god Kols, I will keep this oath and do what is asked of me but if I am required to speak it will be to recite the names of the Pahmet who have been cut down by the accursed creatures. Let us get this first task over with first.
He grinds the clove between his teeth in contempt of the gnolls and the merchant giving the task.
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“A mask, supposedly able to bind souls. Unfortunately, it already has something bound to it. Examination indicates that ‘something’ is a guardian. I would have you dispose of the guardian. Somewhere away from the shop, of course. Maybe not on the streets, either—we don’t want any passerby witnesses or victims. There’s a flat-roofed warehouse nearby. It should suffice.”
“I’m not entirely sure, but it has the stink of Abaddon about it. Given the origins of the mask, I believe it’s a creature called a div.”
“They are difficult to hurt unless you have a holy weapon, or one of cold iron. As it happens, I do have some cold iron weapons in my shop.
Available for purchase, of course.”
“An acquaintance of mine owns a mirror I would like. She isn’t willing to deal in gold for it, and her desired coin is not one I am quite willing to pay.”
“Madame Jelaris is an alchemist trying to develop an equivalent of the sun orchid elixir. I don’t know if that is possible, but she has a means
to alchemically extract vitality. Essentially, she can make one older. She claims the ‘years’ of life extracted are invaluable in her research. And she requires twenty years from me before relinquishing the mirror.”
“Make the purchase for me, of course! Twenty years of my life, all at once, is too dear, but twenty years divided among you lot? That’s little enough, I think! Plus I’ll let you in on a secret: Madame Jelaris is
an inveterate gambler. If you wager the years, you might walk away paying nothing! Or paying twice as much. If you do that, a word of advice: don’t cheat. Or at least don’t get caught cheating.”
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Ram indicates that they should speak away from Murqual.
"We appear to have no choice but to deal with this odious man. Let us agree and leave and get this done. We can start with the Gnolls." He sighs inwardly at the inevitably of their situation- this isn't going to end well.
Ram discusses what weapons we have amongst us;
Do any of us have holy weapons?
Perhaps the Venture-Captain will buy us cold iron weapons?
Or perhaps Visuris could negotiate for free cold iron weapons?
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Cordon steps aside with Ram "I have some good ol' cold iron arrows if that helps. Either way let's get this over with. " Cordon then walks back over to Murqual "w e agree to your terms, but only if we can borrow some of them cold iron weapons for the job " he says trying to sound authoritative.
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By night, the streets of the Twilight Gate district are mostly empty. The courtyard surrounding the Ruined Monastery, a popular tourist attraction by day, is even more deserted than the surrounding streets. Perhaps this is what made it the choice location for Murqual’s gnoll “distributors,” or perhaps the gnolls feel comfortable in the shadow of this former home to Lamashtu’s faithful. In either case, the shadows lie thick underneath these crumbling walls.
Murqual sets the group up with a small donkey-pulled cart before departing his shop. Most of its contents consist of trade goods, bolts of cloth, and several casks of liquor. In addition, he gives them two sacks containing 100 gp each as additional “payment” if the gnolls prove recalcitrant.
The already-recalcitrant gnolls wait in the plaza for the PCs. Behind them in the gloom is a small crate. Only one of the gnolls speaks Common, and even she prefers to speak in her own language. As predicted, they meet the group with snarling disdain, hissing that you aren’t the ones Murqual normally sends. The continue to voice complaints (“These linens are mothridden.” “There’s only one donkey?” “Do they expect the tribe to starve?”), doing their best to undermine your side side of the deal.