A Pathfinder carrying an important message has gone missing in the sewers beneath Absalom, but what the PCs find when they investigate the missing agent's fate is something few expect.
Earlier today each of you received a summons to come to the offices of Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin. The letter was terse and very brief simply saying to come here urgently. The messenger who delivered it was out of breath and had run all over Absalom to find you.
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A tall, slender half-elf waits beside the door of the Venture-Captain's office. He tries to keep a calm and aloof look, but his right foot's nervous tapping reveals some sort of excitement, or anxiety. Or both.
He is quite a good looking man, if not for some scars that cross his face, with dark brown hair kept in a short ponytail and a soul patch as the only facial hair adorning his chin.
He wears some practical dark clothes and a cloak, his hands covered by a pair of leather gloves. Some flasks are attached to his belt together with a rapier in its scabbard. Lying at his feet is a heavy-looking backpack, with a crossbow resting on it.
As time passes he grows more impatient, but tries once more to hide his nerves sitting on a nerby chair. "Where are they..." he mutters through his teeth, then takes a big book out of his backpack and starts turning its pages absent-mindedly.
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An old man calmly walks to the venture captain's office. His head is covered in white hair and a long, well-cared beard.
When the man comes closer, it becomes apparent something is off. His face, while creased with wrinkles, shows the sharp features and the vivid eyes of a young man, and he is strangely muscular, too muscular to be old. His demeanor is well assured, and he firmly holds a tall longspear with a sculpted wooden shaft. A long rope is coiled on his belt, next to climbing pitons and ice picks.
His eyes are a pale grey, and when he comes closer he seems to emanate a cold aura. Suddenly, he turns to nothing in particular, listens for a moment, and begins to speak:
"Yes, Elias..." He begins in a hoarse voice that does, for once, match with his apparent age. "No, I do not know what it is they want..." He turns back towards the office, and it seems a child's voice is hushing in the distance.
He smiles softly to the two strangers waiting next to the venture-captain's door. "Nice to make you acquaintance. I am Yaerstenn, though you may call me Yaer."
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A tall woman with flame coloured hair enters the room. Her armour is emblazoned with the insignia of Sarenrae. She dumps her pack and stretches her back.
I'm Carlin...delighted to meet you all. I suppose the Venture Captain has met you yet...otherwise why would we all be here in the foyer. she says, as she fixes her frayed ponytails. She then gets a chair and sits down, anxiously awaiting for the Venture Captain's briefing.
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"You all took your time, eh?" the tone of the half-elf's voice is a mix of irritation, anxiety, and excitement, but he shows a snobbish, calm attitude, except for the ever-tapping foot.
"My name is Everon Nemnis. Keep that in mind, because soon you will hear it across all the streets of Absalom and beyond!" he says, so full of himself that his chest is practically bursting. "I will soon become a Pathfinder of great renown and you, my dear subjects, will have the honor of witness my very first steps on the path of becoming one of the greatest legends of Golarion!"
"This is why I hope you will be up to the task of supporting me in this official task for the Society, the first of many obviously. What are your capabilities?" he asks to the others in the hallway, "What can you do to become part of history?"
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Yaerstenn smiles softly at the half-elf before seating himself.
"A Pathfinder of great renown, will you, now, lad? Glad to hear that, we are in dire need of heroes, I'm afraid."
"As for me, I am but a humble servant of the gods. Nothing so important as to 'be part of history', I am sure. Though I can pull off a few magic tricks. Enemies of the gods tend to find me as cold and unforgiving as ice." He winks to the man.
"What about you, lad? What capabilities will make you a Pathfinder of great renown?"
In his usual terse manner, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin requested an audience in his office. He wasted no words once the last invitee had closed the door.
Some of you may know a novice named Derris Jerval. Last night I gave him an important message to deliver to an associate of the Society, a Varisian businessman in the Docks named Guaril Karela. I received word this afternoon that the package never arrived. I need you to look into it.
My initial inquiries lead me to believe Jerval entered the sewers mere yards from the Grand Lodge’s walls. I’m worried for his safety down there and annoyed that he wasn’t able to get the message to Karela. I need you to go after him. If he’s well, slap some sense into him and ensure he delivers the message. If he’s been injured or gotten himself killed, recover the message and make sure it gets to Guaril Karela at the Pickled Imp, a curiosity shop located in the Docks—and get it there soon. I’m counting on you, Pathfinders.
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"It will be an honor for me to accomplish this task, Venture-Captain" says Everon, with a hint of a bow. He seems to have lost his posh and haughty demeanor in place for a more lackey behaviour. "Be assured that I, Everon Nemnis, will see through this problem, with the help of my new 'comrades'" he emphasizes this last word with an almost mocking tone.
In a matter of a second, the half-elf attitude changes again, this time becoming serious and thoughtful. He brings a hand before his lips, but everyone can clearly see they're moving, like he's talking to himself.
Derris is a young pathfinder society hopeful. He is training under the Master of Scrolls Kreighton Shaine and hopes to become a confirmed agent in the near future.
As for Guaril, he runs a store selling magical curiosities, books and such called the Pickled Imp.
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Well, I am a follower of Sarenrae, but I assure you I am no timid priestess. I am not afraid to get up close and personal...especially with undead to give them the Lady of Light's sweet embrace of warmth.
Sewers...oh joy! Well, if he's hurt, that's right up my alley. Can you describe Derris in case he got captured?
The Venture-Captain describes Derris to you. He is in his late teens and a bit awkward having yet to grow into his body. His limbs are long, his torso is thin and his adam's apple bobs like a ball on a string.
Now please, I have things to get on with and the mission is very time critical.
He ushers you outside, then re-enters his office and closes the door.
Stepping out of the lodge you find a sewer grate not more then 300 feet down the street.
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"Hey hey hey, big guy, wait just a moment!" says Everon to his robust 'companion', "Don't you think that we should first think of a plan? Are you so eager to take a swim in the city sewer? Well, I for sure would prefer to take a stroll in a more pleasant place, but since our missing man has decided that the tunnels beneath the city are better than its streets we will have to descend into the guts of Absalom. But first, let's think about the course of our future actions".
He pauses a moment, clearly annoyed by the man's recklessnes, then says "Listen, all of you. The first to go down will be obviously our savage companion here," he indicates Asgall, "then I will follow him and will march beside him to keep an eye out for traps and other nice gifts the sewers may throw at us. Then the old wintery man and the... Fox... Will follow, standing in the middle of the group. Lastly, the bowman and the nun will close the formation and keep an eye out that no one and nothing is following us. We don't know what happened to this Derris fellow, but maybe whatever impeded him to do his job will do the same with us."
After some moments Everon asks "Is it all clear? Any... Objection?", he looks already annoyed by the possible objections his comrades may have about the formation.
Following Asigall down, "Sorry I don't really need torches so I don't carry any." Looking around. "Now lets see if I can find a trail."
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Yaerstenn shakes his head slowly.
"We are looking for a lost messenger, not fighting a ghoul infestation, lad." He pauses for a moment, then adds: "If you insist on having a march order, I suggest sending Sindari first, he looks like he can follow a trail just fine. Here, Sindari, take my Sunrod so our fellow companions can see the way."
Yaerstenn hands his Sunrod to the Elf and follows the group.
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"Better safe than sorry, old man" says Everon, his air of superiority back once again. "But ok, let's send the elf on the first line, maybe you're right and he manages to find some tracks to follow, who knows...". He then takes out from his backpack a mundane torch, ready to light it once he's down in the sewers.
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"I am deeply sorry that I have confused you for a mere nun, miss Servant of the Dawnflower" says Everon distractly, while intent at igniting his torch using flint and steel. After some seconds the torch is lit and emanates a warm light.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, 'healer', I have to be certain that no one here messes up this important task we have been entrusted with, ok?" That said he focuses his sight and tries to catch any detail Asgall may have missed.
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"I'm way too old for this."
Yaerstenn firmly graps the other end of the rope, gets back a few steps to get a running start and tries to jump over the hole.
Surprisingly, the old man manages to get to the other side with a long, smooth jump, though he lands with a grunt before slowly rising, clutching his knees.
"Too close. I'd be much more at ease if this was a glacier to scale." He dusts his clothes, then sends the rope back to the other side.
"Who's next?"
With a crash Sindari falls into a pit that was conceled beneath the "floor".
Sindari takes 7 damage as he hits the bottom of the pit, 20 feet down.
Those that have already crossed can see that there are certainly boot prints in the "mud" here. They lead off deeper into the sewer system.
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"What did I say about being careful?"
Kyomi grabs the rope, takes a few steps back and takes a deep breath looking straight forward.
Kyomi runs toward the pit, but fails her jump, hanging on the rope with a strong grip.
"This jump is a lot harder than I expected... Could someone give me a hand?", says the kitsune with an anxious tone.