Being good Pathfinders who know not to wander into a suspected enemy's lair without checking things out first, everyone pauses to check the room for traps and clues. Unfortunately, no one notices the tripwire and the loosened bricks in the ceiling. And so, as Miriel crosses the floor of the attic space, she triggers the trap set by Goldtooth or her friends, and the ceiling collapses on top of her! As the bricks fall, they crash through the unmaintained floor of the attic as well, threatening to send Miriel plummeting down to the floors below as well!
As the ceiling collapses through two stories of floor, dust, wood, and various other debris tumble down to the ground floor of Traitor's Mews, where dozens of the Varisians scramble to get out of the way.
Shouts of "Disaster" ring out through the Mews and the young boy you had met just moments before wails loudly. It seems that Tsura was not able to get out of the way quickly enough, and was buried alive by the falling rubble! The Varisians soon realize what is happening and begin working to unbury Tsura, though their disorganized efforts seem to be making little progress toward saving their leader's life.
Meanwhile, upstairs, an icy cross breeze blows from the collapsed roof into a broken window beside the makeshift desk. The cross breeze is beginning to lift at the papers on the desk, moving them toward the open window.
You will need to act quickly if you hope to recover the papers from the desk, along with any clues they might contain as to Goldtooth's activities. You might also be able to save Tsura if you join the effort to exhume her from beneath the rubble.
What will you do?
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"Oh no! Quickly, help her!" Miriel shouts, shocked. She first starts to frantically dig in, but soon notices the varisians are mostly blocking each other.
"Please, come here! All together, at the same direction, and you two, pull that one when we others push this one. On my mark, ready, go!"
she starts to organize the work, and strengthening her instructions by her own example as she pushes away the debris.
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Lybram will do a quick analysis of the window area. His first instant will be to shut the window. If that can't be done he next thinks to block the window with this cloak. Next he thinks to dive on top of the desk to pin the papers down between himself and the desk. If none of those seem feasible he will resort to grabbing at papers.
phase 1.
"Holy heavens! The papers ..."
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With Hannar expertly nabbing papers from the air and Lybram...flailing around?... Yangrit decides in a flash to help rescue Tsura. Impatiently she leaps down through the hole, not wanting to waste time thumping down the stairs on her stubbly little legs.
Grunting from the impact, she begins to awkwardly attempt to shift the bricks without even listening to Miriel.
There is a great deal of leaping, diving, and scrambling as Hannar first begins to reach up and grab as many of the papers as he can. Meanwhile, Lybram rushes to pull of his cloak and cover up the broken window beside the desk. The tactic is effective, though it does not completely eliminate the cross breeze.
Darksid'lous joins the frenetic activity in the attic and lends her elvish grace to the effort as she springs from strut to beam in an attempt to snatch more papers from the air.
While some members of the party are scrambling to collect papers, Miriel is directing the efforts downstairs, hoping to save Tsura. She is just beginning to get the Varisians organized when there are two loud crashes as Graff and Yangrit fall on top of the pile of rubble.
Both Pathfinders soon recover their feet, though they are a bit worse for wear, and join the effort. Unfortunately, Yangrit's shorter stature leads some of the Varisians to believe she might be a child, and so they shove her aside and she is unable to assist.
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"So beautiful!" Miriel looks at Graff's excellent display of strength with admiration.
She manages to keep her focus, and continues instructing the varisians: "Now, get those away when he lifts! Good! Don't block Yngrit back there! And now this, ready, go!"
She glances up, and sees the pathfinders still at the top floor. "Come help us get her out!" she shouts at them.
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Glowering in frustration both at being shoved aside and being shown up by that half-orc, Yangrit rolls up her sleeves and shoves her way back into the fray, grasping at the rubble with her bare hands to yank it out of the way. She knows that her talents would have been more useful upstairs catching papers, but there is a life in danger here. (And quite frankly, she is still unconvinced of any impending doom. It simply seems like some ordinary criminals doing ordinary crimes, and that can be handled easily enough.)
Once again, Miriel directs the crowds in their efforts to free Tsura from beneath the rubble, and Graff lends his strength to assist them. Yangrit works hard to get in on the action as well, but there are just too many Varisian backsides in the way for her to effectively aid in the process.
Tsura's hand is just becoming visible as Graff, with the help of a few Varisians, pulls a large beam off the pile. The hand is still reaching out and grasping for help, though its movements are becoming slower and less regular.
Upstair in the attic, Lybram works to keep his cloak in place, and manages to block more of the papers from escaping while Darksid'lous and Hannar continue gracefully leaping and snatching the papers out of the air.
The three of you in the attic can tell that you have nearly saved all the important documents from the pile on the desk, though you can still see a few that appear to have large notes or circled passages on them, making you believe there is still more worth retrieving!
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"Grrr! Move your big butts!" Yangrit is so frustrated at this whole situation and concerned about Tsura's safety that she doesn't realize this thought has escaped her lips. She attempts to squeeze between a couple of taller people to haul away some of the rubble.
The attempt is unsuccessful. The big people's hips shift at the last minute, shoving her back out behind them. %#$&*@#*%*!
Cries of jubilation echo down from upstairs as the remainder of the party in the attic realizes they must have collected all that they would need of Goldtooth's papers.
The excited shouts fall on deaf ears down on the ground level, though, as the concerted efforts of the Varisians and the Pathfinders just doesn't prove to be enough. Tsura's grasping hand slows, and finally falls limp as it peaks out from the rubble. The young boy who had clung to her skirts only minutes previous--her son--wails loudly.
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"No!" Miriel cries as Tsura's hand falls limp. She starts to frantically dig through the rubble, but stops a moment later. She sighs and stares at the pile of rubble. "We are in no hurry now. Let us still get her out, to say goodbyes properly", she says, resigned. She starts to remove the rubble, now slowly and carefully, while singing a funeral song of Shelyn.
After getting Tsura out, she instructs the varisians: "Please, prepare her for the last journey in the ways of her people. We will return to honor her, but now there are more lives in danger so unfortunately we are obliged to leave".
Her singing isn't too bad, though nothing special.
With time, some of the Varisians continue with helping to exhume Tsura, even as her boy continues to cry. The crowd seems to accept your apologies, though you can tell their bitterness at their leader and friend's fate runs deep.
Upstairs, Hannar continues the search for clues, determined the follow the thread on the woman whose suspicion and malice lead to this tragedy. The papers on the crate are a catalogue of poisons and related substances—collectively, they form a copy of an infamous poisoner’s handbook called The Deleterious Grimoire. Examining the papers closely, he discovers that two listings have been circled: a potent ingested poison called crocodile’s tears and a protective alchemical substance called blackfingers paste. In addition to whatever insights these notes might provide, Hannar also knows that such a handbook is likely a valuable resource for those research.
He also notices that the “big map” that Tsura's son saw is nowhere to be found—it seems Goldtooth took it with her when she left. The flyer above the desk is a playbill advertising The Gambler’s Tragedy, as performed by The Andoren Chameleons at Kendall Amphitheater. One phrase is circled: “Marvel at their breathtaking disguises!”
Finally, as he thoroughly searches the attic, Hannar finds a potion of delay poison and two doses of blackfingers paste.
Craft (alchemy) to know its mechanical effects.
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Lybram is still thinking about the lady. But as he settles with the tragedy, he resolves to stop the others from happening.
"I think we should check out the Frisky Unicorn." "It sounds like a more pressing possible disaster." "The theater is not active now I would think." "If this lady is planning to hurt people best to do it at a performance."
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Yangrit grudgingly agrees. "It would be best to arrive at the Amphitheater about an hour before a performance. We will then have time to stake out the location and interview people. In the meantime, we should assess the Frisky Unicorn." As she states the name of the latter establishment, her voice practically curdles in distaste at the heavy-handed name.
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Miriel sits down on her knees, and pulls out a mirror from her pack. She fixes her hair and cleans and straightens her dress and weapons, as well as she can after the fall with the debris.
"I am very interested at seeing the theater, to learn more about the culture of this city. So, it might be even better to go to the Frisky Unicorn first, as then we wouldn't have any pressure of other responsibilities waiting when we get to the theater. Let us go, then", she says and get up with graceful, exact moves.
Leaving Traitor's Mews, you make your way toward the Heights District and the Frisky Unicorn. A few helpful locals help you find your way, and you eventually arrive without anything untoward happening.
As you approach the Frisky Unicorn at last, you hear a cacophony of shrieks and growls from within. Periodically, tiny, winged lizard-like creatures dart out of windows in the turret before flying into other rooms, where it sounds as if they are wreaking havoc.
You enter through the large double doors at the inn's entrance and find yourself in the main lobby. This spacious lobby features comfortable couches and tables laden with refreshments. Guests lounge on the couches, and you overhear them speculating idly about what could have the pseudodragons so upset. The servants look nervously toward the back of the inn, where you occasionally hear the sound of a loud ongoing argument. The guests’ theories are fanciful, and the most popular theory is that the inn’s proprietor, Oliver Cadmion, decided to start charging them rent. A stack of flyers for the Green Market lies on one table in the center of the room.
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Along the way to the Frisky Unicorn, Yangrit fishes a potion out of her pack and drinks it down quickly, muttering: "I still dislike the taste."
Glancing up to the tower with a scowl that could curdle milk, she grunts: "Is that why we are here?" Honestly, I was not paying close attention because this is stupid. It could be. But I would not call noisy pseudodragons a dire disaster, despite how annoying they may be.