Magnimar. Heidmarch mansion. Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch summoned you here with little warning, and most of you are familiar with her manipulative demeanor.
Sometimes she’s late to her own meeting. Luckily her husband, Venture-Captain Canayven Heidmarch, offered you some brunch while you wait.
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Every stereotype ever leveled against or for a dwarf walks into the room. Brak Thunderstriker, the younger brother brother of the more famous Dorvhan, stands resolute with a smile carved into his immaculately trimmed beard.
With gauntleted hand he alternates between stroking an obsidian mustache and caressing his freshly shaven head.
The dwarf's arms and armor are expertly crafted and bear his own imprint, for Brak makes his own gear.
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A half-elf with skin bleached like a wayang hovers around a table. He wears robes, gloves, and a band around the eyes in similarly brilliant white. The effect is just a little eye-watering. As others start to filter in, he puts aside the pittance of food he was picking at and strides over.
"How do you both do. You stand in the presence of the Kalistocrat Zephyr." True to form, Zephyr doesn't look to shake hands, but he nods respectfully to the dwarves. "Another wizard, Kavor? Delightful! I bear a fair bit of mystic power myself. A great many more vocations you seem to have, too. I hope to compare notes at some point."
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"Pleasure ta meet ya Kavor. Looks like we're in good hands." Brak raps his knuckles on his breastplate, "I'll be your armor if you want to do some finger wiggling. Though it looks like our pointy-eared friend has that covered too. Seems like you should do what you want!"
Brak then greets Zephyr properly, "It's a pleasure, and you stand in the presence of.... well, me!" The excitement is genuine.
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Hearing the unmistakable accents well outside the room and down the hall, Kord make certain his holy symbol of Torag is easily visible. Coin flip as to how this goes.
Nearly bumping his head on the doorjam, a well muscled half-orc strides into the room. Even though he stands well over six feet, he looks young, no more than a couple of decades. However, his eyes show a wary confidence that only adversity can bring. While a battleaxe and heavy pick are strapped to his back, he carries a battle-worn heavy flail.
He gives the dwarves a nod, then taps his holy symbol. "Name's Kord. Might as well find out now if we're gonna have a problem." He puts his hand on the iron warhammer and grips it tight. "Trust me... Ich habe es verdient."
He waits moment to let the news sink in. He tries to gauge how Brak and Kavor are taking the news. "I know it ain't every day you see a warrior of Torag lookin' like me. So, I hafta ask, are we good here?"
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Kavor Doan looks up and down the half-orc.
"Aye, no problem here. Always have great respect for a warrior of Torag, though I'm a Caydenite myself. I know a lot of half-orcs have a family background that isn't pleasant, and a few have one where it is, but the fact is that none of us can choose our parents. No problem here."
To the half-elf he says, "Pleased to meet you Zephyr. I'm quite happy on the front lines in my armor if there's another to do the wizarding. But yes, we can compare notes."
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"Ha! I got a beefy friend named Kord!. Don't ye be worryin' I only judge a person by their deeds."
Brak looks over at Pau with a smile. "Pau? Brak."
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Pimwrick’s entrance to the Venture-Captain’s office is preceded by a few idle notes on a harmonica, which grow into a sweet little rendition of Five Kings Mountains Picnic Massacre Blues, before stopping abruptly as he walks in on the conversation. ”Oh, sorry, am I late?” he asks, looking around as he shakes spit from his harmonica and tucks it into a slim pouch affixed to his belt. ”I was, um…busy.” The flattened hair on one side of his head suggests that Pimwrick was, in fact, asleep until quite recently.
He's an amiable and nimble-looking halfling, of average height and build for his people, with dark brown hair and warm, caramel-colored eyes. He wears a beautifully-wrought ashwood bow sticking over one shoulder and an almost toy-sized greatsword over the other. A black iron morningstar hangs at his hip, its dark color a stark contrast to the gleaming links of his chainmail shirt.
Having caught a bit of the conversation, Pimwrick weighs in, ”You can worship whoever you like, far as I’m concerned. I’m Pimwrick, servant of Erastil, and as long as it’s not harming others, I like to let people do their own thing. Enough of us don’t get to do that.” As he speaks, he gives his bow a shove tinged with resentment, shifting it on his shoulder so it thumps him in the back of the head.
The sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway outside of Heidmarch Manor’s cozy dining room. Venture-Captain Canayven Heidmarch sets down his fork and rises from his chair by the hearth. The stern Venture-Captain’s eyes brighten a bit as he says, “Sheila’s footsteps.” Moments later, the door to the dining room swings open, and Venture- Captain Sheila Heidmarch enters the room, taking a seat at the head of the table opposite the hearth. Canayven pours her a cup of hot tea as he addresses her, “Welcome back. The Pathfinder agents you requested have been fed and are ready for their briefing.”
“Splendid,” Sheila replies as she sets a folded piece of parchment down on the table. She smiles and gracefully takes a small sip of the steaming tea, savoring the flavor. “Thank you, Canayven. And Pathfinders, thank you all for coming to Magnimar on such short notice. I’ve specifically requested your presence here because I believe that you’re uniquely suited to helping the city of Magnimar with a problem that seems to be spreading in recent weeks.”
”As you’re likely aware, Magnimar is known across the Inner Sea region as the City of Monuments for the dozens of monuments within city itself and the surrounding region. These monuments are well known for their sacred properties—performing any number of respectful acts at their bases provides a pilgrim with a minor boon. Adventurers and mystery cultists by the droves make pilgrimages to Magnimar for a chance to experience the touch of the divine. But recently, something appears to have changed with several of these structures.”
She takes another long sip of tea. “A friend of mine in the Varisian Council, one of Magnimar’s governing bodies, has alerted me that several key monuments— namely, the Mistress of Angels in Ordellia, the Founder’s Flame in Naos, and the Cenotaph in the Capital District—have all been sites of strange supernatural occurrences ranging from eerie wailing and spectral lights to magical conflagrations. Lord-Mayor Grobaras appointed a sleuth specializing in the supernatural, a man named Theodorus Ichonvarde, to investigate. However, my contact reports that Ichonvarde’s attempts have borne little fruit thus far, and the council has accused Theodorus of badgering Varisian witnesses. Moreover, several innocents have been harmed in the occurrences at the Founder’s Flame. The implication that someone—or something—has tampered with Magnimar’s legacy leads me to believe that this is a case best suited to our interests and your abilities.”
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Zephyr nods in greeting to the new arrivals. After the briefing, he does so again knowingly. "I have some expertise - scholarly only, of course - in the divine, and it seems as if many of us bask in such light. I can see why you assembled this team.
"Are any of these monuments tied to particular deities? And this Ichonvarde - he sounds as if he has a long reputation. How long has his investigation been going? I'm curious about his earlier career as well, if you know of it."
Shelia ponders Zephyr's questions for a moment before responding. “I have heard of Ichonvarde before. He’s closed several cases attributed to occult phenomena over the past few months, and in so doing earned the trust of the lord-mayor. Whether or not you choose to work with Theodorus is up to your discretion and his willingness, I suppose. Regardless, it would be unwise to antagonize him.”
Sheila nods as she speaks. “You’ve been deputized by the Varisian Council, and that will be enough to earn at least a measure of cooperation from the average citizen. That being said, the lord-mayor has officially cast his lot with Theodorus, and as a result there’s the possibility that some authorities might not recognize you as an official legal presence in the matter.”
"Now, as for the monuments themselves..."
Most monuments can grant a unique boon to those who pray before them.
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Kavor Doan asks around about the monuments. While he has some scholarly knowledge of various regions, he is most at home chatting over a pint of ale, so he makes the rounds of Magnimar's taverns and tries to find out what the locals may know.
"There's a few Pathfinders entombed in the Cenotaph thanks to the efforts of Venture-Captain Heidmarch. Some of the locals take issue with this, as the Pathfinder agents aren't as high-status as the kind of locals that typically receive that honor."
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Once he has grazed for a while over the brunch offerings and listened to his colleagues ask questions, Pimwrick sets out to see what he can learn from the good people of Magnimar. He knows that he knows very little, and tends to forget what little he has learned, but he’s happy to spend a little time wandering around and visiting a tavern or two to see what he can pick up in conversation.
He returns to his mission-mates to tell them what he’s learned, ”They say that the most amazing thing about the Founder’s Flame is its endless supply of fuel. It’s said to stay ablaze via a mysterious green oil that never seems to deteriorate or deplete, and can create flames in a scintillating array of colors. Or something like that.”
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Oh great. Glad-handing with the citizens. Kord heads out into the street with a map, looking for the "Mistress of Angels". He returns sweat laden, map torn and crumpled. He tosses the ruined atlas aside as he makes a bee-line for the wine. He gulps down a glass. "Torag's Hammer! Can't anything be cold in this town? Its like the third layer of the Abyss." He takes a moment to pour himself another glass, quickly polishing that off as well. He sets the glass down before continuing. "So, it turns out that "The Mistress of Angels' was erected following Ordellia’s murder several years after Magnimar’s founding. In the years since, countless locals claim to have seen Ordellia’s ghost, who has a reputation for helping the meek and persecuted throughout the Ordellia District. However, not bein' from here, there's no way to verify any of this."
Sheila laughs. "Better they do the hard work while you get to sit and enjoy breakfast." She sips more of her tea and chuckles.
Once you return, Sheila picks up the folded piece of parchment next to her teacup, “I’ve secured an official writ from the Varisian Council to grant you legal permission to investigate. If you’re willing to help Magnimar, I can also lend you some supplies. Consider them part of your compensation, upon success.”
A DECREE BY THE VARISIAN COUNCIL AND ITS RIGHT AND HONORABLE SPEAKER, HASTOFF MARAMEZ.
To the Honorable Lady Sheila Heidmarch, Venture-Captain of the Pathfinder Society:
Whereas, by this Council’s commission, under the seal of Magnimar bearing this day’s date, the 26th of Rova in the year 4718 by Absalom Reckoning and 110th year since the Founding, do appoint and charge Lady Sheila Heidmarch as Executor of the Council’s law and do authorize her and require her to go forth, with any deputies she shall see fit to appoint, and investigate the occult happenings of Magnimar’s monuments or any structure or property deemed associated with these occurrences. Lady Heidmarch and her deputies shall possess the full force and authority to act in this manner, including and limited to the following: search any monument or public property housing a monument, to question witnesses who are amenable to serving their fair city, and to detain any persons found to be engaged in the defilement of our city’s beloved legacy.
Signed and warranted this day by Remeria Callinova, Leader of the Council
Canayven adds, “Davorge. If anyone would know what’s been going in the district of Ordellia, it’d be him. He’s a mystery cultist. He’s also an expert in supernatural matters, particularly those tied to Ordellia. Look for him in the tavern next to the Rose and Rake Theatre. He eats lunch there often. If he’s not there when you arrive, you might find someone who knows where to find him.”
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Brak watches in wonder at all the learned conversation, "Hey now, I'm in good hands. Can't say I'm a fan of ghosts... Bah! We'll be fine." His white teeth split his midnight beard and mustache.
"If we get into a kerfuffle, I'll be right up front, but I'm a bit heartier than you're average bear, so maybe another one of you wants that sweet sweet potion?"
Brak slaps his knee in a cliche fashion before adding, "Right! Let's go talk to this DaForge guy."
With your preparations complete, you decide to head to Ordellia.
The town of Ordellia lies on the opposite side of Magnimar, but it isn’t too hard to find the Rose and Rake Theater once you arrive. The open-air playhouse hosts town hall meetings and other large gatherings. To the side of the theater is a tavern known for its waitstaff uniforms: slick and well trimmed. Informally people call it the Rose and Rake Tavern, but the town still hasn’t approved of the name.
You walk under the sign of the rose and a small garden rake and enter the tavern. It’s easy enough to find Davorge. The human sits in the back of the tavern, a Varisian man wearing a flowing tunic and trousers with silver embroidery. He is also waving you over, as soon as you enter the tavern.
”So… want to trade ghost stories?” He grins. ”You must have met some supernatural entities in your journeys.” He waits patiently for your response.
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"I can't sing, but I do appreciate free beer!"
Brak, lured by the thought of a free pint whilst on a mission takes a deep breath and gives it all the gusto he can manage:
"Every one of us has heard the call
Brothers of True Metal proud and standing tall
We know the power within us has brought us to this hall
there's magic in the metal there's magic is us all
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers leave the hall
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers go on get out
Leave the hall
Now the world must listen to our decree
We don't turn down for anyone we do just what we please
got to make it louder, all men play on ten
If you're not into metal, you are not my friend
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers leave the hall
Heavy metal or no metal at all whimps and posers I said
Leave the hall
Now the world must listen to our decree
We don't turn down for anyone we do just what we please."
When he is done, Brak turns at looks at everyone. "By Cayden Cailean's codpiece, I'm a freaking bard! Gimme a dunkel!"
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Surprised at Brak's skill, Zephyr tries to follow up with a tale about a wayang ritual keeping back great evils from the Shadow Plane. "...Admittedly, the holy hand of Shelyn screaming about grape juice detracted from the spectacle. And she may have accidentally stolen their ancestral hero's mask. But the shadow girallon was contained once again."
He passes along any drinks he receives to Kavor Doan or Brak.
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Pim is rarely interested in working for much, but the prospect of a free drink does get his attention. After enjoying Brak's song, Pimwrick launches into a tale from one of his adventures, "I once saw a wave of ghosts pour out of an obelisk in a desert tomb, bringing with them a blast of searing heat!" He attempts to accompany the tale with a haunting note on his harmonica, but ends up with a jaunty little tune that wrecks the whole atmosphere of the story. Rats, I should have been paying attention to my playing, not those delicious, frothy beers they keep setting down in front of Brak.
"I'd hate to see you drink alone, fellas," Pimwrick declares (though it's clear there is little risk of that), before waving down the barmaid and ordering himself a refreshing pint of amber ale. After a couple of long swallows, he pulls his attention back to Daforge and begins to chat amiably, working in a few questions, "You seemed to know we were coming, how is that? I guess it means you know who we are and what we're about. Sheila Heidmarch said you could tell us about what's going on in Odellia - what do you know?"
Davorge claps in tune to Brak's song. "Here, here!" He cheers and gets some change. "Drinks for everyone!" The tavern patrons cheer.
Kord takes a look through the room for evil intent. He doesn't find any from the patrons, nor from Davorge.
Davorge laughs. "I had a vision foretelling of your visit. Well, that and I asked Sheila to request some help." He grins. “After all, we happen to have our own resident ghost—the ghost of one Ordellia Whilwren, in fact, whose mortal abode happens to be ‘round the corner from where we sit. You see, I’m something of an aficionado of Ordellia. I’d love nothing more to see that poor, lost soul move peacefully from our life to the next. But lately, I’ve heard strange reports about her. She appears lost, scared, desperate even. I was going to investigate the matter myself, yet now that you’re here I wonder if our dances are, in fact, a duet. What do you say? Care to investigate the matter together?”
Davorge laughs some more. "Theodorus Ichonvarde is an accomplished spiritual investigator, I'll give him that. So am I. But, neither of us are perfect." He pauses for a moment. "However, I am smart enough to ask for help. That's where I pull ahead."
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Pimwrick finds himself warming to Davorge, as the man's charm and love of music - and freely offered drinks - make the friendly halfling feel even friendlier. "I think investigating it together sounds like a fine idea!" Pim offers, giving Kord a half-hearted dirty look for questioning their new friend. "We were sent to help, so we're glad to do so!"
He gives the other Pathfinders a quick look, saying, "Right, wasn't that the plan?"
"Ordellia is considered a guardian spirit." Davorge stands up and leaves some change on the table. "I'll tell you some more on the way to one of the monuments near her home. A statue built in her image." He leads you out of the tavern.
"A mighty storm threatened to destroy the land, but Ordellia Whilwren called out to an angel and asked for protection. The next thing you know, boom! A flash of light separated the clouds and cleared the skies. Not bad for the founder Magnimar, eh? The first monument here was the grand tower build to celebrate the miracle, the Arvensoar." Davorge continues his tour guide mode for a bit.
"Unfortunately, two Chelaxian merchants associated with a Skinsaw cult murdered her as part of a failed conspiracy to discredit local Sczarni merchants." He frowns. "And yet... her spirit lingers on, protecting us to this very day. We're almost to her statue, the Mistress of Angels. "
A small crowd has gathered in front of the Mistress of Angels, a marble statue of a Chelaxian woman with flowing hair and plain clothing. The statue carries a butterfly emblem in her right hand and a starknife in her left, and her eyes stare out over the sea to the north. Behind the statue is a large wooden townhouse. A brass plaque labeled “Ordellia’s Townhouse” marks the building’s southernmost entrance.
One man is interrogating five people. A Chelaxian woman and her Varisian friend, holding hands. A Chelaxian man, bored out of his mind. A young Varisian man about to cry with anxiety, and a Varisian dancer glaring at a sundial and tapping her feet.
The man pacing around them, asking questions is none other than Inspector Theodorus Ichonvarde. He quickly turns to you as you approach. ”What are you doing here?” He sneers. ”This is an official investigation- I can’t have civilians interfering with my work. You may speak to your friends once I’m done with them.” He turns back to the five people.
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"Inspector Ichonvarde, we too are here to investigate the Mistress of Angels. As you can see, we have this Writ of Authority from the Varisian Council, and are duly deputized by Lady Sheila Heidmarch, Executor of the Council's Law, to investigate this matter, question witnesses, and detain any who are defiling the monuments. Now, if you would please, allow us to take over the investigation. Clearly your manner of inquiry is troubling this young Varisian. You may stand down and hand us any notes you have gathered, and we will ensure your contributions are recognized in our report."
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Kord holds the writ in the inspector's face, "Looks like we ALL get to be official lawmen today. So, stand down, stand aside or go stand in the sea, but take your attitude and shove it...colleague. Trust me, I'm bein' all nice like as a professional courtesy. Word has it you're screwing up this whole investigation, so why don't you let the "A" team step in and take over." He flips the man a silver, "As a matter of fact, why don't you take the rest of the week off? Go buy yourself a brew on me."
Kavor approaches Theodorus. He looks at the writ, looks at him, looks at the writ again, looks at him, and sighs. ”Ah, so you’re here to take my case. Fine.” He looks to the five witnesses and tells them. ”I’m not done. Wait here.” He leads you about ten paces away from them.
”Do you want a general timetable? The Mistress of Angels changed about 2 weeks ago. Townsfolk say it is haunted now. The Founder’s Flame had similar issues about 1 week ago, and then the Cenotaph 4 days ago. I’m certain you know the rest.”
He turns to Kord. "Looks like Magnimar will let anyone play law enforcer." He shrugs. "Keep your silver, let's maintain some professional courtesy." He glares at Davorge, who simply laughs.
Addressing all of you he says, ”Of course, you may try to interrogate the witnesses I found here.” He turns back to them. ”I know their names and their alibis for being here, although those may be fabricated lies.”
Theodorus points at the witnesses. "Go ahead. Work your magic."
Vonysa, the Varisian with curly raven hair, brown skin and dichromatic eyes simply sighs. She hasn’t said a word or moved since you’ve seen her.
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Kavor Doan follows up with Theodorus. "Come now, ignore the surly orc. I have great respect for you not caving to his bullying."
Kavor Doan is 100% sincere here.
"I abhor attempts to intimidate an innocent man who is just doing his job. He must not know any more civilized means to interact with people.
But I am more reasonable. I seek to uncover the truth for the good of the people of Magnimar. Is there anything else you can tell me? Even a rumor that you are not certain of, or a glimpse of something you thought you saw?"
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Pimwrick groans a bit as Kord takes a very confrontational approach with Theodorus. Does he have to be so mean? It never really gets you anywhere.
Noting how anxious the young Varisian man seems, Pim approaches him, slipping his harmonica from his pocket as he does so. "Hey there, you seem to be having a hard day. I'm Pim, what's your name? Kysu, eh? Well, it sounds like you're not supposed to be here in town, but there are lots of goods things to enjoy here that make it worthwhile! For example, I bet in your village you don't get to hear anyone play harmonica like this!"
He begins to play a rolicking tune, but it rather quickly goes awry, and a strange rattling note works its way into the song. Pim pauses to check the inside of his harmonica, shaking it and peering inside, as if he expects to find a handful of gravel or something else in there that has ruined his song.
Pau approaches the couple. He assesses the situation, and tries to entertain them, to make them easier to talk to.
Eylvian watches Pau's backflips and twists. Whatever rage she had melted away and she claps, clearly entertained. "W-well, I was about to tell him what we saw, dear. We were on their way home from a theatre performance staged by a local dancer when we decided to ask for a blessing at the Mistress of Angels on their way back to the inn. We saw a group of shady individuals in black garb gathering around the monument."
"They were drawing something in chalk around the monument. We wanted to avoid trouble, so we moved quickly and pretended to see nothing."
Vonysa finishes up. "Each cultist wore something around their neck - some sort of unholy symbol. It was an image of a faintly glowing skull."
"I abhor attempts to intimidate an innocent man who is just doing his job. He must not know any more civilized means to interact with people.
But I am more reasonable. I seek to uncover the truth for the good of the people of Magnimar. Is there anything else you can tell me? Even a rumor that you are not certain of, or a glimpse of something you thought you saw?"
"Well, at least you're more reasonable." Theodorus relaxes, slightly. "I should reveal something I found out. I have seen bloodless bodies with puncture wounds on their neck. Vampire attacks!" His professional demeanor changes briefly as he clutches his fist. "These vampire attacks are related to the monument disturbances, I am certain. I feel they are masterminds behind this monument abuse. These citizens... they must be under the vampire's influence. Or they don't respect the concepts of law and order." He eyes the witnesses.
"Hmm. Keep this to yourself. I don't want the citizens to panic."
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"The city life has its disadvantages, certainly," Zephyr says, bending slightly to join the talk with Kysu. "But there are many perks, waiting to be found! There is something for those of every walk of life here. I came from little and found myself rich through and with hard work. Would you find something like this on the outskirts?" He withdraws an unfinished, amethyst-studded diadem from a deep sleeve for the young man to see.
"A pet project of mine. I'll have to devote more work to it, become a fair bit more wealthy before I can wear it in good company. But nothing is so sweet without time and effort invested. Perhaps that food will be especially appetizing after today's work?"
Kysu recoils as Pimwrick begins playing, and he almost drops his groceries. "Stop it, stop it!"
He withdraws an unfinished, amethyst-studded diadem from a deep sleeve for the young man to see.
"A pet project of mine. I'll have to devote more work to it, become a fair bit more wealthy before I can wear it in good company. But nothing is so sweet without time and effort invested. Perhaps that food will be especially appetizing after today's work?"
"That is a beautiful gem..." Kysu is distracted. "I kind of like it. It reminds me of something."
"I noticed a group of cloaked individuals chasing what looked like a blue-skinned human with magnificent butterfly wings through the streets. I... I quickly hid in a nearby alley, I didn't want to get caught."