Unlike recent adventures, factions missions are a crucial part of this story arc. I will Link them below to save it for future references. Please only open the missive from your faction.
Liberty's Edge and Silver Crusade
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A tall, well built human, confidently strides into the gathering place. His features are decidedly Chelish, but for his hair which is sandy blond, implying some other far off lineage as well. His manner while confident, portrays humility too. His face reveals a young man, but his piercing blue eyes suggest experiences beyond his years. He wears a sly small smile and wears full plate armor, which is neatly shined and contains many small symbols of long swords bathed in holy light. A red and white cloak is clasped around his neck and his shield is similarly emblazoned with a large long sword also bathed in light. A shiny wayfinder is proudly displayed at his hip, next to two sheathed long swords. It takes little effort to recognize that he must be a follower of Iomedae, perhaps a paladin.
He's attend by a shaggy ulfen man easily 10 years the young knight's senior, he's resting his arm across a large pack of gear. Also at the man's side is a young elf, although likely a hundred years or more older than the Iomedaen, he's dressed simply, but also wears a tabard with a long sword bathed in holy light upon it, perhaps a squire.
As each comrade enters he offers a hand in greeting before introducing himself.
Pathfinder, well met, I am Boswick Bumbleberry and I am at your service.
When a familiar face in Voros wanders in Boswick seems delighted. Voros! So goof to see you. It's been awhile since that whole shadow lodge mess, that's a day I'll long remember. And then again there was Round Mountain, that was something wasn't it. Both times dragons involved! Hopefully, this task won't see us match wits with another one. He let's out a hardy laugh.
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A cloaked figure stands in a corner of the gathering place, staring silently at the persons around. As a man of few words, he eventually moves slowly, and speaks with a low, rasping voice, nodding to each one of the present persons.
"I'm Tiller Voros, sent by the Bellflower Network." he says briefly but slowly.
Voros is rather small and if most of his flesh is hidden by an ample and dirty cloak, you can see his face, which is ugly and has a grey-red color. You also notice that his teeth are pretty sharp. You can see a long tail that unfolds itself from time to time from under the cloak. The only weapon he seems to carry is a longbow. His eyes are of a milky white.
The tiefling pauses before Boswick and seems to stagger.
"Indeed. I have changed... Or... my failures changed me." he says, revealing his mummified corpse.
"An experiment... turned bad. However, even with my body turned, I was able to redeem my soul through Milani's blood. I searched power to achieve the society's goal and almost failed, becoming a creature I swore to destroy. I kept my sanity, however, thanks to the Sages. Mostly the dragon one, yes." he tells, his eyes looking in the void.
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Greeting Rogar, I'm at your service. Boswick gives the dwarf a nod, before turning attention back to Voros.
Service to the society takes it's toll on everyone. For some the toll is great, still the ends are generally for the greater good. And hard work it is too. In the end, it's worth the cost I think. His words are meant to console, whether they do or not is another story.
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Voros turns towards the dwarf, analyzing him, nods respectfully, then looks with his blank eyes at Boswick. Only a rasping noise comes out of his throat. After a few moments, some words form in Voros' mouth.
"I... am an agent of freedom. I am at the society's service. I don't remember anything else." he answers rather mechanically.
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A tall, thin, Osirion man eventually wanders in, almost tripping over some furniture as he does, his attention seemingly elsewhere.
"Oh my... who put that there." He mutters, pushing the chair back where it belongs, before looking up and around the room.
Seeing some already there, he smiles, and presses his hands together and bows at the waste in greeting.
"Greetings!" He adds, as he stands back up again. "Doctor Menes Strang. Had not expected to get called on again so soon. I suppose the research projects will have to wait."
Aside from his dark skin, and thin dark beard, he is dressed in the ornate trappings of one of the lesser known ancient Osirion gods. The jackal head prominently displayed on the end of a long staff, the symbol of Anubis.
"Will be interesting to see if our new task sends us as far astray as the last!" He adds, with a hopeful smile.
"My purview is mostly just a broad knowledge of things arcane and divine." He adds. "All the heavy lifting, I leave to those more suited!"
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Strang nods back. "Excellent. Have not run into too many of those chosen by the Inheritor, outside of the Crusade up in Mendev."
He shrugs slightly.
"Admitedly, I spend most of my time at the temple, or assisting the Society." He adds with a slight chuckle. "Do not get out much."
"So always exciting to see something new!"
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"Ah yes... we Osirion's do so like to cling to the old things." The doctor responds, as he looks at the jackal head on the end of his staff.
He then looks back at Voros, his head tilting slightly, then suddenly leans in close. looking right into the hood.
"I say... you look like you've perhaps come a little closer to Anubis than most." He exclaims, his tone more curious than mystified.
He looks like he's actively resisting the urge to poke and probe.
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"Anubis I know not. I have seen what few mortals did. I died once and, the second time I neared death from an experiment, I came back like this, a curse in the flesh. However, defeating a powerful undead and making various tasks allowed me to bypass the curse." answers the mummified tiefling, not even flinching as the doctor approaches him.
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A tall, well-muscled Taldan man strolls in with the agility and balance of a great cat, and immediately heads for the dwarf, extending an arm to shake hands. Behind him stroll in porters, guards, accountants and other merchant caravan members, all heading upstairs to secure their respective rooms.
"Rogar you old fart! you managed to dislodge yourself out of the sands of Osirion long enough to plunk yourself on a ship? Marvelous! I would have come sooner would I have known they drafted you for this one! You heard of Torch since our brush with death and those blasted Sages of yours?
To the rest of you, well met fellow agents. You can call me Theodric. I am pleased and delighted to meet you. I am truly honored to venture along such long-lived and experienced masters on behalf of the Pathfinder Society. If I can do anything to be of help in the immediate please do not hesitate to ask."
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It was suggested that I may be of some assistance in the tasks ahead.
A slim half-elf with a shaved head and dark goatee. He is wearing a yellow jacket over a green shirt and blue pants. He has no visible armaments other than a belt dagger. He really doesn't look like the type that works with weapons anyway.
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A average sized tiefling strolls in without a care in the world and assesses the assembled group, looking them all up and down. Having satisfied himself that he could take any one of them he has a seat.
You hear him make some noise, something that sounds really weird, like a skritch skritch noise.
A moment later, Squeezing through the door, not exactly quietly, a large green giant mantis seems to just walk in and climb up the wall a tiny bit and sit there very still.
"Greetings and salutations fellow Pathfinders. I am LifeTracker the hunter and my companion over there is Kali. I heard we had some kind of mission to work on together. The sooner we start, the quicker this will be over and I can get back to fishing and my retirement."
*skritch* *skritch*
Despite the worries of the Decemvirate, your voyage across the Inner Sea and up the Sellen River to the Galtan town of Woodsedge sees few dangers, and you reach your destination without ever having to draw your weapons. The whole nation of Galt remains in the thrall of a bloody revolution, and while signs of desperation, poverty, and even violence abound, none of it has prevented you from your mission. The Pale Maiden remains safe, and you have successfully completed your first direct task for the secretive inner circle of the Pathfinder Society. Sooner than you had expected, you find yourselves standing on the outer stair of the Woodsedge Lodge.
Situated on immense grounds just outside the town proper, the luxurious manor house is marred by cracked plaster, missing windows, and rotting shingles, but a well-groomed topiary hints at a building coming back from a near-death encounter with Revolution and abandonment.
The huge doors of the Woodsedge Lodge open with a slow creak. A tall, bulky figure takes form in the gloom within, emerging into the sunlight with a gap-toothed smile and a bushy blond beard. It’s your old venture-captain from Absalom, Adril Hestram!
The huge man chuckles with a belly laugh at the sight of you. “I was wondering who they would send! The Ten choose wisely, of course! You did receive your orders to come here from the Decemvirate themselves, didn’t you? The servants are clucking that you bear the Pale Maiden. Is it true? May I wield the blade?”
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Boswick draws the Pale Maiden, turns and presents the hilt to Adril Hestram. At your service as always Venture Captain. He lets the Venture Captain inspect the blade, but after a few minutes will insist on having it back as the instructions were to provide it too Eliza Petulengro.
What brings you so far from Absalom, sir, if you are at liberty to say? Boswick inquires.
At some point during the journey Boswick pulls Lavode and Voros aside.
So once we reach the lodge we will need to seek out the porter named, Alondais, for Captain Maldris. But we must be careful when we deliver the message.
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Voros nods respectfully, yet silently, at the new pathfinders dispatched for the mission before heading towards the boat.
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Before Adril Hestram, Voros answers mechanically with his low and rasping voice.
"Yes. No. Where are the others and what are the orders?"
But then, he sees Boswick lending the blade to the captain. He bares his long teeth but does nothing more.
Voros will nod and say:
"If you need a shadow, I may be of use. We'll see once we get there."
"Orders, just like you. They would not say why I was called here, just to be here." Adril says, admiring the Pale Maiden "“but it’s obvious the Pale Maiden is just a cover story. I’ve been… studying up on the Ten. I think I’m about to be promoted into their ranks. It was only a matter of time. My guess is that you’re here to represent my efforts as a venture-captain. I’ve no doubt you’ll make a very convincing argument for my promotion.
“Things will change between us if this happens. You’ve always been honest, dependable agents for me, so I’m telling you while I still can. After it happens, we will all be sworn to utter secrecy, for the identities of the Ten are the most treasured secrets of the Pathfinder Society. For now, though, I want you to know that I trust you implicitly, and I hope that you trust me. Once I have been made one of the Ten, even if we can no longer discuss it openly, I want you to know that I will always do what is right by you.”
"Now, let us go inside and meet with the lady of the lodge." He finishes handing the weapon back to Boswick.
Adril Hestram leads you inside the Woodsedge Lodge. The filigreed front doors open into a spacious great room Adril Hestram with an enormous fireplace against the opposite wall. Elegant upholstered chairs and couches scattered about the chamber present an inviting, luxurious atmosphere, as if the whole place had been designed for fashionable lounging. A sweeping stair beside the fireplace leads to the balconies of the mansion’s second floor, which look down upon the room as if it were a stage. A scuffed and oddly stained red carpet runs down the center of the stair, showing that work yet remains to restore the Woodsedge Lodge to its former glory. Some elements, like the threadbare stuffed owlbear in one corner, hint more at the past than the future, but things are coming along.
Adril leads on to the west, through a fine wooden door and into a wood paneled corridor rich with the smell of fresh onions and simmering meat stew. The passage continues several feet to the north, with doors leading to chambers beyond. Adril bounds through the southernmost doors across the hall, leading you into a richly appointed meeting room where two figures are seated at a huge oak table near several empty chairs obviously intended for you. Adril points to a male human garbed in crude leathers wearing a necklace of bird skulls.
"This here is Osprey,” he says. “Honorable fellow, a friend to all and a Society man, tall and true. His keen eyes see much among the Pathfinders that others miss, and his counsel is unparalleled in our order.”
Adril turns to the gorgeous red-haired woman sitting at the head of the table, her pale face a marble bust of confidence and control.
“And this,” he says, his cheeks taking on a touch of red and his mouth curving into a lecherous grin, “is Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro, the Lady of the Lodge.”
"Welcome to Woodsedge" Eliza says looking up and making eye contact with each of you. "Please do not mind the mess in the lodge, but we are still rebounding and rebuilding it. Before, we get down to business, I would first like to know who the Decimverate summoned, so I could try to guess the why."
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Boswick gives a nod to Osprey. Good to see you again, Osprey, when was the last time? That nasty Shadow lodge business in Absalom?
He then gives a bow to Venture Captain Petulengro. Boswick Bumbleberry at your service, ma’am. I am a servant of Iomedae and the Silver Crusade, and yes, the Pathfinder Society. I prefer to negotiate peaceful accords, but know my way around a battlefield too when needed and it often is. The paladin gives off a confident air, standing tall in his well-polished armor with a confident grin above his strong chin.
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"Greetings Osprey and Eliza. I am LifeTracker the hunter, or LT, for short. I received the unexpected orders to report for duty once again and here I am. I was kind of looking forward to my retirement and getting in some more fishing time with my buddy Kali over there who is an excellent spear fisher. But I am here and will do my duty until the mission is complete, then back to the woods and streams for us it is."
"By the way, do you have any snacks suitable for a couple of carnivores? Kali is always hungry when we're in the city as there is not a lot of snacks she's allowed to eat roaming around with me. I have to constantly remind her that cats and dogs are not fair game in a city, then she gets kind of hangry. And I could go for a bit of a snack as well."
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Strang has not really had much interaction with Adril over the years. In fact, other than perhaps seeing him a couple of times, he's not sure he's ever really talked to the man. He is not entirely certain why he would be expected to speak on his behalf. He could only assume that he must have been included for another reason, though what that might be was still a mystery.
Of course, just because he didn't know much about Adril, didn't mean the venture-captain would not be familiar with him... probably had access to all sorts of information at the Grand Lodge. Thus he wasn't too put off by the man's over-familiarity.
He had only been to Galt a couple of times, so seeing the effects of their internal conflicts in person was always interesting... even if the politics themselves were hard to follow.
"Doctor Menes Strang." He says, giving Eliza a respectful bow of his head in greeting. "From Osirion originally... though make my home in Absalom now. I too had thought the adventuring life behind me, and was mostly settled in to research and my work at the temple..." He taps the jackal head on the tip of his staff. "... but it would appear the Society is not done with me yet."
He spreads his arms, to encompass the room. "So now we are here, shrouded in mystery. My training has been quite extensive, in both the arcane and the divine... and I can only assume this is why I've been asked to come."
"It is a pleasure." He finally adds. "The place has done well in the wake of this country's so many upheavals."
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Voros doesn't react when Adril Hestram mentions his decemvirate aspirations. He follows the man until the next room and as soon as he sees Osprey, he gapes his mouth open, letting out an inhumane whimpering.
"PaIN. DeAth." he whimpers.
The tiefling then looks at Eliza Petulengro and resumes his previous behavior, nodding silently and respectfully.
When asked to present himself, Voros grits his teeth and unveils his face. The face seems half-melted on his right side, with boils the size of his nose on his head instead of hair. The tiefling has a greyish and scaled skin but both eyes are white. A fetid smell fills the air as he speaks.
"I am Tiller Voros Closhfleur. I was born in Westcrown, though rescued by the Bellflower Network. I work for the society since..."
What seems like a pause in his speech at first becomes soon an awkward silence. Voros' mouth open, then closes, then he resumes speaking.
"I am but a tool, a shadow, for the society."
Quickly, he hides his face again.
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"Aren't we all, brave Tiller? tools, I mean... shadow though? I don't know. I wouldn't beat myself up so much if I was you. You surely undervalue yourself judging from your past actions, for are you not, and the rest of us, here, before Osprey and Venture-Captain Petulengro for reasons that surely include recognition of past deeds, victories and achievements? Ah, and yes, while we're on the subject of recognition, let me introduce myself. My name is Theodric de LaMontagne, Earl of Ravensford in Taldor. I serve as swordsmaster to many students in Taldor when I have the chance and not on the road chasing a good deal or escorting a party sent by the Society. As I will now, no doubt... won't I?"
Theodric bows and kisses the lady's hand, and bows to the other gentlemen in the room, taking a seat.
Osprey returns the Paladin's nod and remains silent.
"I am pretty sure the Ladies servants can find some food for your pet" Adril says looking over at the larger than normal bug.
The lady nods, "Yes, I have refreshments being put together as we conduct our business here. I hope your companion can wait a bit longer." She continues to look over the group. "Well I am sure the Decemvirate had a reason for this group. Now, who carries The Pale Maiden?"
“You have my most sincere thanks for safely delivering the Pale Maiden to me,” Eliza says with a proud smile. “One of my servants will bring it to the lodge’s armory, where it will be kept safe to honor the responsibility granted to me by the Decemvirate.”
As she speaks, several human servants wearing elaborate dresses and fashionable suits bustle in and out of the kitchen through the north doors, delivering delicate flutes of bubbling wine, plates of fresh fruits, and platters of manicured fingerfoods. Each of the servants wears a featureless white porcelain mask, obscuring his or her face completely. Each servant also wears a thin red ribbon around the neck. Eliza catches one of you looking at the ribbon, and her face takes on a serious cast.
“The ribbons represent the guillotine. The Final Blades that sing the song of Revolution and cut the heads from patriots. Each of my servants has lost a beloved one to the Mob. They wear the masks for their own protection. They are safe here in the Lodge. I know their identities, but it is critical that the rabble and the Mob do not identify them as servants of the Society. We are still not fully trusted here, after all, and although the people will not strike out against me, they may very well snatch one of my servants on their return home from a day’s work. I’m sure you understand.
“My homeland of Galt has lost much in this endless Revolution, and even the streets are dangerous. You are lucky to have arrived here safely, but I am sure you could have handled yourselves had you run into trouble.
“Of course,” Eliza says, “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that delivering the Pale Maiden was merely a pretext to get you to the Woodsedge Lodge. You are here for something far more important than a courier mission. For tonight, the Lodge will be host to a Talespinning, one of the most important ceremonies known to the Pathfinder Society. And the guest of honor is Adril Hestram!”
"Osprey will explain the details of the Talespinning when we reconvene in an hour. But, for now, my servants will escort you to your room so that you can rest for a while."
Masked servants lead the PCs back through the Great Room, up the central stair, and to the bank of rooms along the west balcony. The PCs are shown to three well-appointed rooms, each with a large bed and austere wallpaper featuring a flower motif. In the likely event that there are more than three members of the party, some are clearly expected to “double up.” As the PCs settle into their rooms, they spy Adril Hestram returning to his own (significantly nicer
and more roomy) chamber.
After the PCs are settled, they are more or less free to explore the Woodsedge Lodge interior.
The large symbol etched into the stone of the Outer Stair is the personal insignia of the Woodsedge Lodge. It appears throughout the manor, in the tilework of the Great Room, on the table in the Conference Room, and even worked into the wallpaper of several chambers and the embroidery of the Guest Room bedspreads.
Several planters situated upon the outer stair bear the prickly stems and sanguine petals of beautiful bloodred roses.
The bushes here were made from cuttings of the hedges of the Maze of the Open Road, on the manor’s rear lawn.
This massive stone-floored room serves as a foyer, gathering chamber, common room, and trophy hall for the Woodsedge Lodge. An enormous chandelier dangles above the room from the ceiling 20 feet above. The east, north, and west Upper Halls look down upon the Great Room from open balconies. The huge staircase ascends to the upper halls. The ratty, apparently ancient stuffed owlbear in the southeast corner is the once-famous Beaky III, favored beast of Taldor’s Emperor Stavian I.
The double doors leading to the east and west Lower Halls swing open easily in either direction.
The Lower Halls connect the Great Room to the Conference Room, the Kitchen, the Battleground, the Courtyard, the Armory, and the Library via unlocked doors. Beautifully fluted lanterns enchanted with continual flame hang at intervals upon the water-damaged walls, casting the Lower Halls in a rich, flickering light that nearly masks the sooty stains in the carpet. Masked servants bustle from room to room.
Eight high-backed wooden chairs ring the immense table here, which bears the insignia of the Woodsedge Lodge. Maps spread out upon the table show detailed looks at Galt and (surprisingly) the
far-flung jungle colony Sargava.
Unlocked doors lead to the Kitchen and the Lower Halls.
Delicious scents emerge from this well-stocked kitchen at all hours of the day and night. It is a haven for Eliza’s servants, who spend a great deal of time here.
This huge pantry contains ingredients considered indulgent even in cosmopolitan Absalom.
These days, this quiet weapons training facility sees little use.
If some of the interior rooms have a way to go before they have been fully restored to the lodge’s original splendor, the Courtyard looks as though it has received by far the majority of Eliza’s restoration efforts to date.
Meticulously manicured, the topiary bushes closely resemble mythological beasts, while a placid reflecting pool gives a pensive, almost meditative quality to the walled garden. Unlocked doors lead to the Battleground, the Lower Halls, and the Armory.
Eliza’s servants deliver the Pale Maiden to the lodge’s Armory, where it joins several other noteworthy magic items.
The Revolutionary Mob heavily plundered the library of the Woodsedge Lodge when the Pathfinder Society formally abandoned it decades ago, and Eliza is only beginning to restore the collection to its former glory. She’s amassed plenty of historical documents and maps, but the assembly has little direction at the moment, and most of the truly valuable items are kept behind the locked door of the Secret Library. Only the Lady of Woodsedge Lodge has the key.
The Upper Halls connect the Great Room to the Guest Rooms, Adril’s Room, Eliza’s Room, and the Servants’ Quarters. The corridors encircling the Great Room on the east, north, and west look down upon the main floor of the Great Room.
Beautiful fluted lanterns enchanted with continual flame hang at intervals upon the water-damaged walls, casting the Upper Halls in a rich, flickering light that nearly masks the sooty stains in the carpet. Masked servants bustle from room to room.
Masked servants lead the PCs to their quarters in these comfortable chambers overlooking the Great Room via the Upper Halls. Only three rooms (and consequently three beds) are available, so the heroes must share in order to accommodate everyone.
The Lady of the Lodge keeps a tidy personal chamber bedecked with the finest furniture crafted from expensive native woods. Elaborate, appallingly expensive embroidered silk window coverings enrich the room’s elegance.
The door to this chamber is locked, with keys held by Adril and Eliza.
The three small guest rooms along the eastern Upper Halls have been converted to temporary housing for the lodge’s servants. Before the Revolution, the manor’s staff lived in a nearby outbuilding. Heavily damaged by fire, the structure teeters on the edge of collapse. Servants who do not have other accommodation in the town of Woodsedge rest and sleep here in shifts, allowing the rooms to house up to six servants at a time. The rooms’ furnishings are unusually gaudy, consisting largely of mismatched cast-offs rescued by Eliza from ruined manors elsewhere in town.
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"I'll need my own room gentlemen and ladies, as I traveled here with my trusted butler, Mr. Carson, as well as a host of other servants. While the servants will stay in town somewhere else, the butler will remain with me to attend my armor and sword, and some of the servants will also be attending to accounting tasks until the late hours until they are dismissed, which would make your rest impossible. I apologize for this. I can secure my own lodgings in the morrow if those of you who had to double up tonight wish to be alone tomorrow night. Just let me know."
Once Mr. Carson excuses himself, Theodric takes a sheet of paper from his desk and cuts a 6"x6" strip, then carefully applies alchemical glue to one side. He then proceeds to spinkle his beard clippings unto the glued side, making sure all spots have been covered. He then carefully smooth out the beard clippings in one direction, to make the whole thing look like a square piece of fur. He then carefully puts the whole thing inside a drawer, letting it set for about an hour, and proceeds to rest. When the hour is up, just before the Pathfinders are regrouped, Theodric takes the cured piece of 'fur', draws his adamantine falcata, quaffs a potion of invisibility and heads downstairs carefully. Taking position behind the stuffed owlbear, he proceeds to expertly cutout a 5"x5" square of fur on the owlbear's butt, stuffing it in his pocket, and he proceeds to replace the missing square with his 6"x6" 'beard fur' square, stuffing it on the inside of the hole and using the excess inch to make it hold there nicely with no need to stitch it.
"It's a good thing my beard still has that 'brown owlbear shade' to it, and that I haven't gone grey yet..." thinks Theodric, returning to his room quickly before the spell runs out and activating his hat of disguise to 'regrow' his lost beard.
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Dr. Strang does not seem overly concerned with sleeping arrangements, though does find it odd that they would not have proper accommodations for the number of guests invited.
"I intend to park myself in that wonderful library downstairs, and see what Lady Petulengro's collection has to offer!" He says, with a pleased smile. "At least until this ceremony gets started."
"Hopefully I won't lose track of time." He adds, absently, as he wanders back towards the stairs.
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nope
Looking at Teodric, then at the size of Kali...
"Happy to share a room if you don't mind hanging out with Kali. She doesn't take up much space. We'll just sleep on the floor and I'll snuggle next to her, no problem."
"We're going to have a look around and explore a bit. Going to hit up that kitchen where I can smell something delicious, then some outdoors to see if any prey might be about for Kali."
We end up hanging out in the courtyard and just enjoying the fresh air and quiet. Any random prey unlucky enough to fly/walk by is probably eaten by the companion with the voracious appetite.
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Lynch mobs, riots, assisinations... I think I will check on how secure the lodge seems to be at present.
Lavode explores with a particular eye to how easily someone could get in. Either unannounced or an assault by a mob.
Fellows, there is a movable section of floor that could allow someone to enter from the tunnels.
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As the servants show the Pathfinders to there rooms, Boswick is happy to share with whomever. He thanks the servant.
Thank you very much...what name do you go by? He asks the servant.
After settling in a bit, Boswick will make his way down to the armory to see the Pale Maiden's new home, having grown attached to the blade during the journey to Galt, and also taking note of what else the armory holds.
He'll also matter of factly introduce himself to any servants he happens to cross paths with.
Hello I'm Boswick Bumbleberry, what do you go by?
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Voros looks at the scene unmoved and quiet.
A rose by any other age wouldn't smell as sweet. It is a sign.
Once set free, Voros wanders around, evaluating the lodge's weaknesses. He will try his best to do that task before anything. I'll roll some checks I think might be relevant for this endeavor. Once alone, he chugs two extracts.
Boswick goes servant to servant, but find most of them are reluctant to share their names with strangers.
Voros inspects the building. The structure of the building is sound, and most of the damage that remains is mostly cosmetic.
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Boswick is impressed by the armory(?) and is not surprised by the reluctance of the staff. He's more concerned by Lavode's find, a secret to tunnel access into the Lodge.
Surely the Venture Captain is aware of this entrance, but it concerns me a Darklands tunnels leads directly into the Lodge. Boswick presents to the team.
While the PC's are enjoying the down time in the lodge, a sudden bell rings three times.
The pathfinders regroup into the great hall,where a squad of masked servants pass out long flutes of wine, selected Galtan cheeses, thin cut venison, and poached axebeak eggs. The venture-captains mill about making light conversation with each other and any present PCs until everyone has finally arrived, at which point Osprey ascends the central stair to the Upper Halls, addresses everyone in the Great Room.
“Fellow agents of the Pathfinder Society. I deliver a message from the Decemvirate. Long have the Ten observed the exploits of Venture-Captain Adril Hestram. Time and again he has served the Society well, from his own adventures in the Mwangi Expanse to the many activities conducted by agents under his guidance.”
Osprey’s scratchy voice pauses for a moment and he leers out at you. His high brow casts his dark eyes in shadow, giving him an ominous visage. He gestures to you and your companions. “That is where you come in. For tonight we celebrate the Talespinning Ceremony, and our ritual begins with each of you standing where I stand and regaling us with the story of your greatest victory as a field agent of the Pathfinder Society. We stand tonight to examine the achievements of Venture-Captain Adril Hestram, and your victories speak to his capabilities as a leader and his judgment in selecting the agents for his important missions for the Society. When we have heard from each of you, it will be Adril’s turn. After that, we shall know the way of things, and the way of the future for Adril Hestram, and perhaps also for all of you."
“Now,” he says, his mouth forming a crooked smile. “Who would like to go first?”
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Rising first Boswick begins, When my family moves from Cheliax to Absalom when I was a boy. I wandered into the Ascendant Court in awe of the churches there. Entering the Seventh Church, I spent hours reading about the 11 miraculous acts of Iomedae. I was drawn to the Inheritor. When I learned of the Pathfinder Society and the Silver Crusade, I saw a chance to put my faith into action. I'm proud to say even when the Society's aims did not complete agree with the Acts tenants, I have managed to resolve the situation in a way that brought honor to Iomedae's virtues.
So which deed is greatest, difficult to say. Saving Absalom from a black dragon attack, or rallying in defense of the Grand Lodge when invaded by the Aspis. Helping to safely return much of the Society from a misadventure to Golarion's past, or even venturing to space to free a trapped elemental god. All these could be claimed as great deeds.
Boswick's pauses for a moment then continues, Perhaps the greatest, was while deep in a duergar fortress within the Hao Jin Tapestry. A fellow agent, who had challenged my actions, befell a grievous wound. He was lifeless and sliding toward unrecoverable death. I risk my my own possible death to save the body before it fell down a great waterfall. Saving the agent's life. I am Boswick Bumbleberry and as always I am at your service. He glances to all those assembled and then sits back down.
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"My greatest victory? to hold the line for my fellow Pathfinders no matter what. Recently, while fighting Queen Skirkatla, the undead leader of the frost giant training camp of Skirgaard, I was struck down by her magic fire. The flames consumed me completely, turning my clothes and skin to a crisp. A few moments later the magic of the air walk spell I was under brought me gently to the ground as I began to expire and as my eyes began to pop out of my skull and shrivel. My corpse lay still on the ground, the witchfire flames still clinging to my dying form as my soul tried to detach from my body, as were the myriad of invisible enchantments surrounding me at the time. In places I was told my skin cracked to release melted fat and bodily fluids. Cooked under my armor, the proud warrior and entrepreneur from Taldor was no more, and in moments would have died behind enemy territory and would have been destined to be part of a vicious undead giant queen's hoard. That is, until Father Glaube of Sarenrae just casually walked to me and touched me on the shoulder with a heal spell and ordered me to keep fighting! ordered me!
The system shock of the massive influx of healing was almost too much to bear, as calcined skin cells, flesh, seared muscles and boiled organs reverted impossibly to their healthy status in the span of a single breath! No longer thinking strategically, I found myself obeying this simple command and simply ran up the stairs to strike at the source of the evil and put an end to it.
All of this to say that we all have a part to play in this grand dance that is life. I've made my peace with the fact that I am the sword of the Society, and do my best to cut down whoever the Society needs cutting down. I do not look back or think twice once the enemy has been identified, as I know that the identifying and figuring out has been done already by fellow Pathfinders that have also risen to the top of their respective fields. So I will fight 'till the end, confident in the knowledge that it was my role to do so, and confident in the knowledge that it will not be in vain and that others will have tried to bring me back so that I keep cutting down what needs cutting down."
Theodric raises his wine glass for a toast, drains it completely, and sits down to hear the next story.