Kazu tosses his rations at the heart of one of the mass of swarming insects . However, when he does so it becomes clear that the swarm devours everything within its path.
Richard's fiery blast destroys many of the insects devouring the wooden chest , but does not presently seem to deter those that remain.
As Quintus channels, the insects around him seem to slow in their intensity.
Before, the bugs drop, instantly from the air.
The elf's flames lick at the remaining swarm .
Though some of the shrew flies manage to escape, the flames disperse the swarm.
Rowena draws her "bug spray", but finds that she no longer needs it.
Within seconds of the last of the shrew flies being incinerated, a loud clambering sound can be heard, as Mercival Jeggare re-enters the gallery. The curator, arms laden with heaps of wands, scrolls, and vials, huffs and puffs due to exertion. Several members of the museum staff follow close behind him.
Upon noticing the distinct quiet and lack of buzzing sound, the rotund curator looks up in surprise, dropping the contents of his arms. Scroll case and wands clatter against the floor.
"Good show! Good show!" Mercival announces as he looks around the room and takes stock of the status of his museum's priceless works. "You seem to have destroyed or driven away the destructive pests that threatened my museum."
Picking up the damaged, wooden bowl, Mercival inspects its carefully, then produces a wand, which he waves along with the recitation of a number of archaic syllables. Instantly, the ornately-carved bowl is restored to its prior, fully-artistic state. He then repairs the damaged chest in a similar manner, before he holds the wand out towards the party along with a scroll that he had held under his arm. "May I give to you this wand of mending and this scroll of fireball." Mercival says as he offers the items. "Please accept these gifts as tokens of my gratitude for the service that you Pathfinders have performed for my museum."
As the staff members begin the process of cleaning the gallery and covering the hole left by the fallen skylight, Mercival points towards the glass case that dominates the center of the gallery. "Among my collection are three, first print volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles, which happen to detail some of the Society's earliest recorded exploits within Varisia. You have my blessing to examine them, if you'd like."
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Ilathor is positively beaming at their success in driving off the infestation. "We've saved them all!" he cheers while spinning around with his arms in the air.
As Mercival presents his gifts, the Elf happily plucks them from his hands and stows them away. "I'm sure we will find suitable purpose with which to apply them!"
His final sentence has barely concluded before Ilathor pounces upon the chronicle that he believes to be the first chronologically. What knowledge might this hold? Ancient secrets? Political scandal? Hell rending power? The secret to all I hold dear?!
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"We are happy to have helped to prevent the destruction of your valuables. But perhaps you should take some countermeasures, if those pests are common in here." Quintus says, and takes a cloth to start wiping off the foul-smelling repellent from his body.
"Find anything useful in those chronicles?" he then asks the elf, who seems to be rather busy in studying them.
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Damhán seems less impressed by what just happened than the others, scowling up at the skylight, then picking up one of the dead flies to examine it.
"So how does a fly break through a skylight?" He mutters, clearly not sure how the insects managed to get in in the first place.
He stands near where most of the pieces fell, and suddenly the bits and pieces of glass and mortar start to swirl around and collect all in one place, as he gathers them all up with his mind. He then goes about examining them, trying to determine how the window was breached.
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Kazu glances at the half-eaten rations, and decides to just leave it for the museum staff to clear, together with the bodies of the dead vermin.
"Indeed, it is most suspicious. How did they get here?" Kazu shows no interest in the books and instead, examines the museum grounds for signs of where the vermin came from.
Mercival continues waving over the objects for about twenty-minutes. As he does so, he notices the party's interest in the skylight.
"The ceilings are stone, but the window panes are... er, were... fashioned from wood." Mercival explains. "The softer material holds the glass in place better. The softer material allows for the expansion and contraction of the glass during changes in the weather."
"The panes, thusly, must have made short work for such a mass of shrew flies." continues the curator. "Unfortunately, such pests are not unknown within Korvosa. Indeed, the Shingles provides a virtual breeding ground for such pests and other vermin. That rooftop city-within-a-city poses a blight upon our fair city that, unfortunately, can even be felt within these venerable walls despite our distance from the nearest of those slums."
"And, yes, of course, my museum has protective wards!" the curator says insistently in response to questions yet to spoken. "But, they do occasionally fail from time to time. Protective runes can become etched or worn due to the weather, if not the mere passage of time. More likely, though, the tampering was deliberate."
"Again, the Shingles are undoubtedly to blame!" Mercival continues, taking a defensive tone. "Sequestered among the detritus that makes up the Shingles is a collection of imps. It is said that the devils escaped the control of the Acadamae and now, from time-to-time, cause mayhem in and around the city. It is believed that these independent imps are seeking out a powerful devil to serve, but they refuse to ever again work with mortals. It would not surprise me if those mischievous devils have tinkered with this museum's protections at some point--only for it to be discovered now with a seasonal rise in the shrew fly population."
"As a precaution, however, I have already assigned several staff members to inspect the roof top wards and to ensure that there are no imps or other intruders within the premises." The man smiles assuring. "However, you did not come here to discuss museum preservation techniques, I suppose."
Kazu's inspection confirms the presence of museum staff on the roof and the absence of any other imminent threats either within or without the museum.
The volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles within the museum's collection primarily contain accounts of a famed Pathfinder named, Helven Leroung. At the close of the Everwar, this Chelish nobleman joined other Pathfinders in exploring the region of Varisia, then considered savage wilderness by his contemporaries.
The reports of Helven's exploits tell of his discovery of once-hidden locations of expansive, rune-etched monuments. They describe his navigation of various trap-filled tunnels and infested swamps in the search of previously-unknown treasures and magical artifacts. Likewise, accounts of up-close encounters with rare and ferocious creatures as well as brutal, savage natives, including one story of a narrow escape made possible only due to the Pathfinder's daring and mastery of horseback riding.
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Kazu stares suspiciously at the texts, but eventually begins flipping through them.
He points to the second one. "This one. What it describes. Match those Shoanti objects in the museum over there."
He then gestures to the third book. "These horse riding techniques. They are that employed by the Shoanti traditionally."
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Ilathor looks shocked at Kazu. "How right you are!" Not to be out done, of course, he adds his own findings. "This first volume, quite riveting, describes locations that have since been mapped and visited by other explorers! For better or worse, I cannot say, however the way this is written suggests that it was unlikely for these accounts to have been written by a Chelaxian," he lectures, nodding sagely. "In addition to what the Tengu has to say on the third volume's topic of horseback riding, the writing indicate that it is likely it has been influenced by some sort of oral tradition. Quite peculiar, I must say!"
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Ilathor holds a hand to the side of his head, as though the weight of his thoughts were too much for his neck to bear. "The academic dishonesty... if this were true... that Helven Leroung was stealing his information... a significant portion of our Society would be founded upon plagiarism!" he says with utter disgust.
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Damhán snorts.
"Who cares?" He says. "So he wrote down some of what they told him and what he saw? That's not plagiarism, that's study. He wouldn't be the first to have done that. Kind of a requirement of studying those more primitive societies like the Shoanti, like they were back then."
He shrugs, clearly not the least bit troubled by any of it.
When the party has concluded their examination, Mercival asks, "Have you found what you are looking for? The 'false rider', I believe you called it? Undoubtedly, there are likely to be more clues and things of interest to you among the items currently undergoing restoration. Follow me, and I will take you to them."
The curator leads the party past various other exhibits and galleries before descending a stone stairway. Eventually, he arrives a room bearing a prominent lock sealing two double doors. Removing a key, Mercival unlocks the doors and pushes them inward, revealing a room clearly used for restoration of pieces within the museum's collections.
Two work tables dominate the room. One holds a variety of Tian objects, including a wooden washboard, some bamboo flutes, and a pair of intricately-painted fans. The other is arrayed with aged curiosities, including a totem of a Shoanti man dressed in riding leathers as well as stacks of yellowing papers.
Crates and sturdy racks, holding bits of fragile-looking sculpture and pottery, press against otherwise bare walls. A second doorway to the south is padlocked.
"What you see before you are still a few weeks shy of being ready for public display, but you may find them useful nevertheless." suggests Mercival. "Perhaps, you'll want to start--"
The curator's suggestion is promptly cut-off by a piece of flying pottery as it zooms past the curator's shoulder, before shattering into pieces against the doorframe.
A glance at the nearest table reveals the source of the thrown artifact. Atop the table, though he had been completely invisible just moments before, now stands a tiny, crudely carved statue of a robed man. Glowing runes can be seen running across its surface, even as it reaches down for wooden flute in preparation of throwing it.
"Most curious!" Mercival declares. "Why I believe that to be one of the kami--a shikigami--to be precise. These spirits are known to be protectors of the minor works of civilization--often of relatively mundane works of art crafted by human hands. It must have arrived with the new acquisitions!" The curator suddenly stops speaking, to duck as the now airborne flute sails by his head.
Mercival is correct. The creature is a shikigami. Shikigami are the least of the kami, yet they make up for their lowly status with their loyalty and bravery. Unlike most other well-known types of kami, shikigami are more often associated with rural and urban regions than with natural settings. These kami are the rotectors of the minor works of civilization—things like milestones, waymarkers, tiny garden statues, and other relatively mundane works of art crafted by humanoid hands.
No two shikigami look exactly alike, as befits a race of kami that associates with such a wide range of wards. While all shikigami have the ability to merge with their wards, these kami are also fond of spending time in their physical forms, watching over their wards either invisibly or in the form of a tiny statue. In combat, a shikigami fights with whatever objects it finds at hand. Although relatively weak, these improvised weapons have an uncanny knack for hitting harder than they should.
Shikigami are as friendly and curious as other kami, but they are quick to leave an area they see as being polluted by ideals that disrupt the environment. When they do, they generally take their wards with them. They do not engage humanoids who desecrate the environment, but their absence leaves a profound mark on the morale of perceptive villagers. Should the shikigami leave, town officials who know the function of the miniature kami are quick to change policies in their community to reflect a more naturalistic approach, hoping to rekindle the relationship between shikigami and people, lest the community fall into the disfavor of more powerful and less passive kami.
"Having one of those spirits remain in my museum, acting as a guardian, would be quite a boon." Mercival notes. He then turns to the Pathfinders. "I beg of you," urges the curator as the spirit tears into ancient pieces of parchment before rolling them into hand-held projectiles, "Please help me placate this spirit and, perhaps, convince him to remain within my care. I would be most grateful and indebted to you."
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Damhán has no clue what the little creature is, but he is more than familiar with throwing objects around.
He steps forward, eyes on the kami, waiting for it to try to throw anything else. As it does so, he quickly plucks it out of the air, bringing it over to gently start circling around himself.
If at any point, the shikigami haults throwing things for a round, he will lift up the entire table, artifacts, shikigami and all, and move the entire thing right to them, dropping it right in their midst.
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"Please stop breaking these priceless artifacts!" Ilathor pleads with the destructive Kami. "Think of the community you could serve while protecting this museum instead! All the wonderful cultures and communities that have their work here on display could be your domain!"
As objects continue to be thrown, he tries to change his tactics by sharing a story about a kami who earned great honor for protecting mundane historical artifacts in multiple societies long past.
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"He is correct, it is a shikigami." Quintus whispers to the others.
Trusting Damhán-Alla's powers and his own armor to protect him from
flying artifacts, the cleric approaches the tiny statue. As he takes careful steps towards the source of this trouble, he tries to think what could have caused the normally-peaceful Kami to be so angered.
"Calm your fury, o' spirit. Talk to us with words, not with objects thrown. In your anger, you are destroying the very things your kind protect. Talk to us, and let us help you in whatever ails you."
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Stella immediately recognizes the creature as a shikigami as well, but sadly is unable to share the information at this point. Stella does give Rowena a discrete nod that she is okay to proceed with trying to appease it.
Rowena reflexively starts jumping to grab at flying objects, showing off a bit more proficiency than might be expected from her amateurish persona.
Remembering her social identity, she stops trying to grab at things and tries to talk to the creature directly. "You're just like, super cute, you know? Like, why don't you stop throwing stuff, for like, a moment and let us know what's, like, troubling you and stuff? We don't want to, like, fight or make a mess and stuff."
"Also, like, don't you want to, like, protect this stuff? It's super cool and stuff, for reals? It's, like, super cushy here, too. And, like, everyone would respect you and think you're super cool and stuff!"
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Richard raises a placating hand.
"Calm yourself, little one; we mean you no harm."
"You really should stop that - after all, aren't you supposed to guarding these items, rather than damaging them by throwing them at us?"
Richard narrows his eyes.
"If we truly meant you (or your charges) harm, we would have engaged in fisticuffs by now. Please, stand down! Otherwise, we will be forced to defend ourselves..."
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Even as Damham attempts to stop the wanton destruction of the artifacts, Kazu dextrously leaps around the room catching items as they are being thrown.
During a brief respite, Kazu dives under the tables and keeping to the shadows, slowly close in onto the shikigami, coming up surreptitiously behind it.
Once in place, he quickly palms, pockets or just move out reach the artifacts that are near the little creature, trying to clear as much of possible that it can destroy.
The Pathfinders rise to the occasion, moving into action even as the curator's words still hang over in the air. With elemental energy and pure skill, the Pathfinders save those objects thrown or carelessly pushed aside or, as in the case of those saved by Kazu, saved before they can be endangered.
Likewise, the Pathfinders' knowledge of tales both local and historical, coupled with soothing words put the restless spirit, likely stirred by having learned of the potential shrew flies threat to his ward, at ease.
With the kami satisfied, the spirit merges into the washboard for a rest. Mercival examines the damage and is pleased that it was kept to a minimum. "With my museum's new guardian appeased, I am happy to personally assist you with your continued research." He says, moving to the table holding the notebooks and effects of his ancestor.
Holding up a wooden totem of a Shoanti man dressed in riding leathers, Mercival notes, "This could be a 'rider', I suppose. But, it is more incomplete than 'false', I would say. Save for the lack of a mount, it appears no different to me than those on display in the gallery."
The artifact, though incomplete, is still worth about 100 gp.
There is a hidden compartment attached to the bottom of the totem.
Within the compartment is a sketch of a man wearing a triple-flanged helm without eyeholes, a black ring, and a scrawled note that says simply, “Helven took the base of this totem for some purpose I cannot ascertain. Perhaps he has taken it to Absalom?”
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Damhán eyes the wooden Shoanti totem for a moment, a slight frown on his face. "The base looks off too." He notes to Mercival. "Think it would normally have concealed that compartment there. It should swing aside. Here, let me show you."
Without moving, he causes the small compartment to open on the base of the statue. Still not moving from where he stands, one by one, the items inside (a couple pieces of parchment, and a black ring) slowly float out from inside, to come to rest, side by side, on a nearby table.
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Rowena's face scrunches up as she can already feel a headache coming on from trying to go through so many books. She follows the lead of the more practiced academics as much as possible.
While Rowena is wracking her brain to help decipher the documents, Stella heads off on her own--as cats are wont to do--to search for anything useful or notable in the collection, bringing it to the attention of Rowena and/or her companions whenever she finds something.
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Quintus eyebrow raises as Damhán-Alla opens the compartment, and levitates the items on the table. "Hmm, let me see..." he mutters, and walks over to investigate.
"'Helven took the base of this totem for some purpose I cannot ascertain. Perhaps he has taken it to Absalom?' - I wonder who wrote this? The cleric says, showing the note to the others, and then moves to the sketch. "A man wearing a triple-flanged helm without eyeholes. Does this sound familiar? I'm sure the all-knowing ones of our team must have heard of this?" he asks, aiming the question at Ilathor.
The ring he doesn't touch, but casts Detect magic on the item as it lays on the table.
Once he has done with the findings in the compartment, he joins the others in searching the rest of the room.
The artifact, though incomplete, is still worth about 100 gp.
As the Pathfinders sift through the items within the room, an appreciative Mercival remains, offering help whenever requested.
Though many in the party have difficulty deciphering Montlarion's notes and personal effects, the learned elf's knowledge of history allows him to piece together a number of clues about the prominent explorer's dealings with Helven Leroung, as well as the one-time-Lord Magistrate's suspicions of the Chelish Pathfinder. This information proves to be essential in allowing the party to complete its findings.
Comparing the accounts of Helven Leroung's exploits in Varisia as published in the Pathfinder Chronicles to the depictions of places, creatures, and items depicted in the saved artifacts and th events described in the journals and notes retained by Montlarion Jeggare, the party of Pathfinders is able to discern the following facts:
Details of certain sites described in Helven Leroung’s published accounts differ from recent maps and surveys, suggesting that the Pathfinder was never at those locations.
The word choice and syntax in Helven’s accounts are atypical of Chelish authorship, though suggestive of tales arising from oral traditions.
Depictions on some Shoanti reliefs predating the arrival of Chelish settlers bear striking parallels and similarities to Helven’s accounts.
Helven provided intelligence to Chelish forces regarding the location of a Shoanti tribe known to be plundering sites around the region.
Witnesses told Montlarion of a Chelish man aiding a Shoanti tribe during the war before those Shoanti were slain.
Montlarion had an altercation with Helven regarding Shoanti artifacts, which turned violent.
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"It doesn't matter what circumstances surround his dishonesty, he wrote about things without ever having been there and passed it off as his own work!" Ilathor says with utter contempt. "Divine forbid that he credited the locals for their contributions, what imperial nonsense! His work still would have been highly regarded, this is greed, plain as day!"
Further research from Montlarion's personal notes, coupled with the information provided by the saved artifacts and within the Pathfinder Chronicles confirms many of the party's suspicions--making misdeeds of the Pathfinder, Helven Leroung, all the more clear.
Leroung, a Chelish nobleman, sought acclaim and publicity as a Pathfinder. As the Everwar closed, he joined other Pathfinders in Varisia, exploiting archeological sites made accessible by Cheliax’s advancing armies. Yet, Helven sought a quicker path to prestige.
Traveling out ahead of the advancing army, Helven ingratiated himself with a Shoanti tribe by warning them of an impending Chelish attack. He then secretly began transcribing the Shoanti’s oral tales of the region’s history, sites, and wildlife. He also encouraged the tribe to amass items of significance as “protection” from Chelish “invaders.”
Ultimately, Helven betrayed the tribe. He gave up the tribe’s location to Chelish forces, which garnered favor with many inhabitants of the recently-established Fort Korvosa, including Montlarion Jeggare. With the Shoanti put to the sword, Helven appropriated their tales and artifacts for himself. Laden with ill-gotten treasures, he left many relics in Montlarion’s care before departing on one of the first cargo ships to sail from the settlement.
Returning to Absalom, it is clear that Helven recast the Shoanti tales as his own first-hand accounts, which were published in the Pathfinder Chronicles. During this time, in the year 4411 AR, it appears that Helven parlayed these accounts to secure a place among the first Decemvirate, as indicated by the picture of the helm.
However, Helven’s stolen successes would not go unchallenged. When Helven returned to Korvosa, he found that the now Lord Magistrate Montlarion had begun to suspect Helven’s betrayal, and the truth about his supposed heroics. Montlarion questioned Helven and presented him with eyewitness testimony of a Chelish man providing wartime aid to the Shoanti. The Korvosans demanded Helven’s ill-gotten treasures be confiscated pending further investigation. Helven was furious and a fight erupted.
Using a device matching the description of a Decemvirate helm, Helven channeled a burst of negative energy that consumed all those present, save himself and Montlarion. Weakened, Helven fled to Absalom, while Montlarion died soon thereafter.
Had he then employed divination magic, Helven would have received confirmation that each of the witnesses of his crimes had perished. So assured, he would have likely believed his secrets safe.
Yet, it would appear that the Pathfinder Eylysia came to suspect the truth and attempted to reveal Helven’s evil. While Eylysia was apparently unable to unmask or defeat the canny Decemvirate member, she escaped with her life, leaving clues that she could be used by other Pathfinders to discover the true nature of Helven and the events surrounding the Chelaxian’s rise to the Decemvirate.
Having overheard some of the Pathfinder's comments during their research, a curious Mercival Jeggare asks, "So, if I may be so bold, did you find what you came here seeking? Were you able to identify your 'false rider' or any 'artifact that speaks'?"
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Kazu merely stands and fume at the gross evil that an ex-Pathfinder had committed, all in the name of the Society no less. He is not naive enough to think the Society is all noble - what with grave robbing, one of its favored activities, and what not. But actions like this mar the work of those within seeking to use its influence to free those from tyranny, which its own members are agents of that themselves.
"How about this totem? If complete, that could be what we're looking for."
"So, the 'false rider' is one of your own." Mercival laments. "It is always difficult to learn that someone the we may have admired is not who he or she claimed to be. Always a potential hazard of having heroes, I suppose."
"As for your 'speaking artifacts'. Why, it would seem to me that the artifacts that you have viewed today have spoken quite a bit! As sorrowful as their tale may be."
Mercival looks around at the substantial collection of his ancestor's personal effects and the various artifacts he has amassed. "It would seem that you possess sufficient information to suspect at least some misdeeds of a member of the famed, Helven Leroung." he concludes. "I will leave it to you how much you wish to share with your Society or Mr. Shane."
"The totem is now yours to take. I am sure that you will to see to its reunion." The curator next considers the ring, then offers it to the party. "This object has long been accounted as lost and I am most appreciative of your efforts helping to preserve my collection. Please take this as a further expression of my gratitude."
With a respectful bow, Mercival Jeggare excuses himself and allows the party to make their preparations for departure from Korvosa.
The curator examines the ring, then says, "I believe this is a Dark Life ring. It provides its wearer with protection from negative energy."
He closely examines the black ring, which bears a carved pattern made to resemble fossilized bone (such as a creature’s hollowed out vertabra), before adding, "My ancestor, Montlarion, was said to have acquired just such a ring not long before his passing. It was said that once he obtained it, he was never seen without it--yet the ring was never found among his belongings after his death."
"As it has already been assumed lost and as I am very appreciative of all of your efforts to help preserve the remainder of the my collection, you are welcome to keep the ring if you'd like." remarks the curator.