Audri
The journey from Nirmathas was harrowing to say the least. Raised under the eaves of the Fangwood Forest, Audri never really thought much about the dangers that fell wood might cause outsiders. The fey, the druids of the Circle, and the wild beasts all combined to make Fangwood less than an ideal home for some. But Audri had always called the place home, and knew no difference. Her druidic upbringing and natural inclination towards ash and fire, kept her safe and secure in Nirmathas, despite the sea of troubles that land felt from all sides.
When asked to travel across the mountains to Varisa, Audri balked at first, but eventually did her duty. The Mindspin Mountains can also be deadly to the inexperienced. Fortunately, Audri fell in with a group of dwarves from Janderhoff, headed to that stronghold. The dwarves directed her around the lairs of the flame drakes, which might even be too much for her fiery power. From Janderhoff, the trip across Varisia was mild in comparison, and Audri eased into the Magnimar, the City of Monuments, early in the afternoon.
As she passed through the gates, a youth of about 12 years rushed up to her, handing her a folded note and dashing off before the surprised girl could react.
Unfolding the note, Audri read this:
The game was afoot already, but first Audri realized she had some time to find a place to stay, wash the travel dust off her clothes, and perhaps look around the largest city she had ever seen.
As she passed through the city gates of Magnimar, Audri's hazel-grey eyes promptly turned upward, to the flanking stone monuments rising high unto the pale blue skyline. She let out a deep breath, We do not have such towering stone figures in Crystalhurst, and then looking forward, across the sprawling sight of the city - the rooftops, bridges, cliffs, water, she suddenly felt like a true misplaced foreigner. Do not be so fainthearted. Do your best, and as she was about to take a step forward, a boy came forward to deliver a missive. Audri carefully unfolded the parchment and read the contents. So, tomorrow morning I shall meet with the Venture Captain. But what now? I have no friend in this place. The dwarves are headed to their Keep. The druidess ran a hand down the front of her dark moss green coloured travelling cloak to brush away the fine layering of dust from the mountain trail and spots of muck from sidestepping the lairs of the fiery drakes. Shaking her head, Audri put her pack down on the paved street and pulled her wooden canteen out to pour some water to wash her face and smooth down her hair. They must be used to travellers entering the city; I am not the first to appear rumpled and soiled. I must find lodgings for the night, Audri resolved. She stowed her canteen, lifted her pack unto her broad shoulders and began to move down the street; keenly scanning her surrounds for any respectable looking boarding house. I should purchase a flask of Alchemist's Fire this day; she'd forgotten to take one with her before leaving the Fangwood. I wonder where the local apothecary is situated...
As she walked along the street/s, Audri, as discreetly as she could, marvelled at the varied and colourful clothing worn by the people who passed by her. She did not dally or appear overly curious for she did not want to draw undue attention to herself - she was not good at speaking with strangers at the best of times; let alone in a large city such as this one. Something you may have to learn now you are standing on your own two feet. The druidess quieted her thoughts so she could concentrate on where she was going and what she was looking for.
Azari
The elf yawned and stretched, nearly knocking over the candlestick illuminating his study carrel in the mostly abandoned private library at the Museum of Ages. He had been hard at work studying his ancients since first light, and now it was nearly midnight.
He rubbed the sleep from his strained eyes, and stood, his young back still groaning in protest. He hadn't really meant to stay so late, but the theories and ideas postulated in the works of the eminent Thassilonian sage Brodert Quink fired his imagination. And to think, Quink lived just a short trip away up the Varisian coast in Sandpoint. Maybe the would meet once Azari got more involved in the Pathfinder Society.
He had recently joined that group of worthy adventurers and scholars and used his identification from the Society to get back into the Museum. He used to be allowed in this place, it was one of his favorite places, in fact. Until the falling out...A child out of wedlock is an embarrassment to even the wealthiest families, he knew, and elven patriarchs were no less immune to those sins. Since the falling out, he was not allowed in these hallowed halls of learning any longer, but the Society was mending that wound, and Azari was taking full advantage, soaking in as much as he could.
He took Quink's "Thassilon and Azlant: A Study of Ancient Times and closed the vellum pages, caressing the worn leather tome lovingly. As he picked up the tome to replace it, something fell out of the book and onto the floor of the library. Stooping to retrieve it, he found a folded note with his own name written on the outside in a florid script.
Shrugging to himself, the curious investigator opened the note, scanning it quickly:
Azari looked around, wondering how the note got there, but eventually he accepted it as an act of the Society's long (and sometimes surreptitious) reach. He nodded to himself. At last, a chance to prove himself even without his father's name this time.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Audri:
The streets of a city like Magnimar were a wonder. If it wasn't the great monuments that were built on a gargantuan scale that she could barely comprehend, then it was the sights, sounds, and smells. All of it was a bit foreign to a backwards, backwoods girl who grew up with grass between her toes, and a bower of branches for a bed. She had never seen its like.
As she walked the streets taking in the sights with obvious wonder, the practical part of her brain kicked in and she found herself checking her coinpurse and her tail, making sure no one was following. She also realized she might need certain alchemical items which were not easily available in the Fangwood.
It wasn't long before Audri found a suitable shop, a little apothecary named [i]"Witches Brew and Other Potent Potables"[/b] with the sign of steaming cauldron being tended by a black cat hanging above the door. Ducking inside the shop, Audri found the pungent aroma of spices quite pleasant, though the shop was crowded with shelves, cabinets, drawers, bottles, and such. There was barely enough room for her to move inside. She seemed to be the only customer.
"Help you, lass?" said gnome with thick bottle glasses and shockingly green hair from behind a counter nearly as tall as he was. "You look like you might not be from around here, eh?" As Audri turned to answer, a black cat, like the one on the signpost, leaped from out of nowhere onto the counter, making the gnomish vendor jump with fright, spilling some tea from a cup and saucer he was just tending to.
For such a city as this, it was with some relief that no cutpurse had noted her presence on the streets and had attempted to follow and take her coin. Not that she would have allowed it without any sort of fight - but as this was only her first day in Magnimar, Audri did not want to get into a squabble so soon after entering the gates and drawing the immediate attention of the city guards.
Carefully ducking and stepping inside the quaint apothecary shop, Audri was mindful of her stature and the gear on her back as she did not want to press up or push the glass jars and alike off the shelves to break on the floor. Least there is no other patron, so I may not make a fool of myself, was what she was thinking when the pleasant gnome inquired if she needed any help. The gnome's bright green hair made her smile for the colour reminded her of the forest. Audri answered as politely as she could; being this gnome was unknown to her, "Well met, Master Apothecary. And, err, I am newly arrived, aye. I apologise for my dusty presence in your lovely shop. I was wondering if you had..." Her voice trailed off as it in that very moment a black cat leaped upon the counter, frightening the male gnome proprietor, making him spill his tea.
Audri instinctively knealt down a little so she was not looming over the feline standing on the counter and watched it; observing its motions to see if it was agitated, fearful or just playful. She was silent for a short time; quietly gazing into its eyes, before making soothing sounds, and, slow, steady calming gestures to attempt to keep it in place and stop it from jumping onto the surrounding shelves and possibly breaking potions and items alike.
"You're a good kitty, aren't you. You just caught us by surprise. Be careful now, little one. You do not want break glass and hurt yourself. Shh, Shh," Audri quietly and sweetly spoke to the black cat.
Audri continued to gently gaze upon the cat; partly keeping a watchful eye and also attempting to reassure the creature lest it wished to run riot inside the potions shop.
Continuing in a steady, quiet voice, she asked the gnome proprietor, "Is this lovely cat yours, Master Apothecary?"
Azari puts together his things, thinking deeply of the future, of everything that has transpired in his 100 years or so, honestly he lost track. It seemed a bit obnoxious to keep track of his age when he lives so long naturally anyway.
He considered briefly or not to himself of course, whether he should response to such a call, but in his heart he owed a debt to the Society for allowing him to continue pursuing his favorite task and ignoring his family entirely. if he did game a degree of fame it would be with his new name, not his family.
Gathering his notes on the ever mysterious Thassilonian civilization, he wondered why this Sheila would contact. Perhaps it was because he was the one of the few people practiced in dead languages.
That aside, he was more than ready for some quest or adventure. His cautious questioning nature giving way to his desire for adventure and maybe just a bit his unrelenting want to rub his potential new fame in his families face...
Putting the old tomes he took away, and passing through the halls and walls of books and old works, he loved the smell of old parchment and leather. It allowed him an escape from his various darker thoughts and past.
Overcome with his new found urge to quest he sets out to prepare for Heidmarch Manor, firstly by figuring out what time it was... this note could have been received yesterday while he fell asleep face first in a book. He was physically ready, if a bit weighted down, but better to have and not need than need and not have. He sets out for Heidmarch Manor, hoping he's not early or late for that matter.
Malt
No matter how many times he looked at it, Malt couldn't believe it. The pin clipped to his worn tunic showing the Glyph of the Open Road, the symbol of the Pathfinder Society! He would've never guessed that a slave-born half-orc from the dusty deserts of Katapesh would wear such a thing. But here it was just the same!
Malt knew that he hadn't done well on his entrance exams, all that reading and writing was beyond his education, and he expected a rejection despite his obvious strength and skill at arms. But the Master of Swords had taken him in anyway.
He walked the bustling streets of Magnimar, his head held high, daydreaming of adventures he had read about of Durvin Gest, slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. Soon, he would be part of that, and there would be Chronicles of his deeds. He was sure of it.
As he walked, he slipped his and into the pocket of his breeches, and found something odd there. A folded note of some sort. He took it out and read it quickly:
It seemed perhaps his own Pathfinder Chronicle was just beginning...
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Audri
The cat responded to Audri ministrations almost immediately. It leaned against her, rubbing its chin into her hands, purring loudly and kneading her traveling clothes with its front paws in a self-satisfied way.
"Oh my," said the startled gnome, wiping up spilled tea. "Dragon has certainly taken a liking to you. He's a fine judge of character, so I surmise you are of highest moral quality yourself. He can be such a bother though, always romping about." The man also pets the cat, who regards him with evident disdain.
"My name is Morgannes. Morgannes Balderdash. And yes, I am the proprietor of this little shop. Part alchemist, part potion master, and part naturopath. But we have the cure for what ails you, eh?" He motions around the crowded shop at the amount of items crammed into all the nooks and crannies. "Now how I can help a newcomer to the City of Monuments?" He looks at you in earnest, the bottle-lenses of his glasses magnifying his eyes comically.
Azari
It is just past midnight, Azari realizes, and so he sleepily leaves the library and heads to his small flat, where he piles into bed and catches a little sleep before leaving for the Manor early, wanting to make sure to impress with his punctuality. His sleep is restless, filled with dreams of grand adventures, unsolvable riddles, and hoards of treasure.
In the morning, he picks up his gear and heads to the Alabaster District where the Society's lodge resides, not far from the city's eastern gates. The manor itself is surrounded by a stone wall, allowing some sense of privacy and security. The front gate is open and unattended so the silver-haired elf walks right in and up to the front entrance of the manor itself. The door is answered by a handsomely dressed man-servant who admits Azari, asking him to wait in a well-appointed foyer. "The mistress is finishing up another engagement," he says. "She will be with you as soon as time allows. Make yourself comfortable." He indicates a ewer of water, a few breakfast morsels, and some other light snacks on a table nearby and exits.
"Dragon is a fine name for you," Audri quietly declared as she continued gently scratching the black cat's head and rubbing its chin.
Turning her immediate attention to the gnome proprietor, even as she continued petting Dragon, she first pondered his thick spectacles before remembering she should respond to his question and introduce herself, "Well met, Master Balderdash. I am Audri Wrenn. I do not seek curative tonics at present, although it is good to know the range of wares you carry in store." Audri looked across at the shelves and open cabinets stocked full of items. "I do require a flask of Alchemist's Fire and a flask of Acid, for now, if it isn't too much trouble."
As she waited to hear from Morgannes Balderdash on the items she required, Audri took the chance to inquire into lodgings,
"Master Balderdash, also, being newly arrived, I seek the name of of respectable lodging house. Is there an inn or tavern you could suggest? All I require is a small room with a dining hall which serves food and drink? I have some coin, meaning she was not some wealthy wanderer, but someone seeking a safe refuge in an unfamiliar city, with a little coin to pay her way as well as she could, I would be grateful for your help in this matter." Audri gave the bespectacled, green-haired gnome a small, yet friendly smile.
|
Malt whistled softly to himself as he read the leader the Sheila Heidmarch.
Wow, just gettin’ started and ya already got a Venture Captain callin’ on ya Malt me boy. One with a manor named after her, no less.
Malt thought this through for a moment and his smile faded a bit.
Why would someone this high up the ranks o’ society and tha “Society” be callin’ on a Pathfinder as green as me? Maybe, bein’ as it’s the only lodge in Varisia, she can’t exactly be choosy. OR. The more cynical part of him, the part he projected to the world, said. Or maybe green Pathfinders is more expendable… Be cautious Malt, this could get dicey but playin’ dice can pay off, if ya figure the rules out.
Checking to make sure his coin purse had not left with the nimble fingers that had planted the letter in his pocket Malt headed to the nearest shop he could purchase some tobacco from. He hoped they had the more fragrant pipe variety there as he detested the foul smelling stuff that was usually used for the cigars he rolled.
He was not much of a smoker at all but found the sight of a muscled half-orc somehow became more intimidating with a cigar in their mouth. The few times he had ever been confronted about the relatively pleasant smelling tobacco he used, Malt claimed it was a “special” blend from his homeland of Katapesh. Luckily nobody had ever pressed him further on that because him memories of Katapesh were spotty at best.
Morgannes mixes up the items requested and hands them over. "Come back and see us anytime!" he calls as Dragon bats at Audri's departing form with a long-clawed jab.
The alchemist recommended an inn called the Green Apple, which he said was just down the street. "Cleanest, neatest place you've ever seen." he said.
The inn is easy enough to find, and it truly is tidy, perhaps to a fault. A ramrod straight woman with a pinched face and a homely, proper dress greets Audri in a homely, proper way. "Can I help you miss?"
Malt
Since Heidmarch Manor was in the Alabaster District anyway, Malt chose to try out a high-end tobacconist shop he had heard tell of there. Before the appointed time at the Manor, he entered the aromatic shop. A man in a rich silk robe eyed the big half-orc warily as he shopped around, but did not offer to help.
Eventually, the snooty attendant sniffed and said, "Sir, you are clearly in the wrong place! This shop carries only the finest leaf. I am sure you cannot afford it!" he strolls to the door, and holds it open for Malt to exit.
"Thank you, and, I shall, " Audri replied as she collected the two flasks from Morgannes Balderdash and stowed them in her pack. Audri then reached out and touched the black cat's outstretched paw in farewell. "I'll see you soon, Dragon," she said to him. She stepped out of the shop and then moved down the street toward the Green Apple as directed by the gnome apothecary.
She surveyed the neat and tidy interior of the inn as the female proprietor addressed her, "Good day, Mistress. The apothecary, Master Balderdash, commended your inn to me. I seek a room for at least a night, possibly longer. I am newly arrived and I will know more once I meet with my employer in the morning. Can you tell me the cost of a small room for the night, please?"
|
|
Malt sighs internally and briefly wonders how difficult it would be to tie the little gilded rat of a man into a knot before stepping up to him, looming just a little over the snooty man. Time to do the routine. Looking down on the man with a flat gaze he addresses the man.
Do you have any Solku Red? My lord will only accept the best. He has insured that I am trained to spot the difference between it and the inferior strains from Thuvia. His lordship simply will have none of that. I have been instructed to purchase two pounds as a trial of your shop’s quality. If it is up to my lord’s standards he will send me back for more in the future.
Malt fishes a gold coin from his belt pouch and offers it to the man as he continues to stare at him, one eyebrow raised as if to nonverbally ask “Well, what is the hold up?”.
Audri
Mis Merryweather sniffs haughtily. "Do you think I would let a room to just anyone off the street? Look at you covered with dust and grime. A refernce from that witch doctor is not necessarily in your favor either. And then unemployed to boot! Humph."
"Mistress Merryweather, I do not mean to offend. I am a healer by trade and my employment is assured by the local Pathfinder lodge. I do have some coin with which to pay. I merely seek a safe room to spend the night for I've travelled a fair distance to reach this city and I apologise for my present state of dress."
Malt
Malt challenges the man, menacing him a bit as he concocts a story about bringing the fine tobacco home for his liege. It seems to be effective.
"Yes, of course. I will get the Red prepared for you." The man scampers off as quickly as decorum allows and wraps the package in a lovely gold foil pouch for delivery. He hands the bundle back to Malt his hands only trembling slightly.
"Tell your master that the St Regis is always at his service," replies the man trying to regain his shaken composure.
Timerus
The scholarly half-elf worked on his magical writing all the time. Today, he was practicing copying the arcane symbols from his spellbook onto vellum parchment in preparation for writing them on a proper scroll. The formation of the complex characters, and the spacing between them was all very important to the proper channeling of the magic, and so Timerus worked with meticulous detail. Then WOOSH...with the sound of wind rushing in a storm, a veritable cyclone appeared in his small garret, causing him to jump and streak black ink all over the vellum page.
Out of the cacophony, a gold-skinned figure eventually materialized. He had white feathery wings, and briilliant white tunic. "You are the mortal Timerus?" asked stretching out his gold-toned hand to the startled arcanist. "If so, I am to give this to you." in his hand is a small folded note with flowing script on the inside.
"It is the appointed hour, mortal. I am to convey you to the manor if you wish to accept my lady's offer. What say you?"
Timerus was sitting at a desk looking over some dusty old tome written in Thassilonian about The hIstory of The Varisian people...and chuckling at some innuendo...when the winged creature who he figured to be an Outsider flew into his study...He sat back in the chair and looked up...taking the scroll and reading it..
He nodded and said simply closing the tome I suppose so.
|
|
Malt maintains his skeptical look as he brings the foil package under his nose and delicately sniffs it. After a moment he nods solemnly and addresses the man.
This seems to be in order. I shall inform his lordship that you were most attentive to his needs. He shall be the final arbiter of whether your product is of sufficient quality for him.
Malt gives a deep chuckle.
After all, one cannot expect a simple servant such as myself to make such decisions. If my master is pleased, we shall meet again.
With that Malt exits the shop, his jaw aching from all of that "fancy talk", especially "arbiter", he learned that one from a bard that traveled with one of his caravans and it never failed to impress. At least he had a source for decent tobacco now, even if the proprietor was a little gilded rat.
Whistling a Chelaxian sea shanty he had learned as a small child on the ship from Katapesh, Malt stepped lightly towards Heidmarch manor, opening his new packet of tobacco and rolling himself a cigar for later.
Audri
"Pathfinders!" spits Miss Merryweather. "Truly, the Pathfinders? Those upstart rabble-rousers and gold-diggers? I heard they had corrupted poor Sheila Heidmarch, but now some wretched waif washes up on my door as well. It's just too much!" She begins fanning herself rapidly, with small intricately painted hand-fan, taking a sharp intake of breath.
"Still," she says with a patronizing sigh. "Still, it wouldn't be proper to turn out one in need of hospitality. Perhaps, a soft bed and a warm bath would do wonders for you?" she muses to herself.
"Very well," says the stern matron. "I will let you the room, but only for tonight. You must give me a reason to extend you thereafter, like cutting yourself loose from those wretched Pathfinders."
Timerus
"Very good, bring your things." After giving Timerus a moment to collect his meager belongings, the celestial creature grabs his arm, spreads his feathery wings, and begins intoning a magical ritual. In a matter of seconds, Timerus is whisked away, with the sensation of being jerked off his feet and through a keyhole.
The startled young man reappears in a well-appointed foyer in what he guesses is Heidmarch Manor A silver-haired elf sits along in any easy chair nearby, watching the pair in wonder. "You have arrived a few moments early, Timerus, courtesy of the Master of Scrolls." He nods once, a wry smile creasing his golden lips, then with a rush of air is gone again, leaving the arcane caster in the manor, awaiting his fate.
Timerus scurried around quickly stuffing things into his pack and grabbing up his spear, he shouldered his pack and said simply ready
and then he felt like he sucked through space to be deposited in a well appointed manor room.
He nodded to the Celestial that brought him and looked at the elder elf as he spoke...then he nodded simply and said quite.
then he looked around the room taking stock of things and said you obviously arent Shelia Heidmarch. So may I know youre appellation? The letter mentioned the Pathfinders...are you...?
Azari
Azari had only been waiting in the foyer of the Heidmarch Manor a short time when a sharp crack sounded, and then the rushing of wind like a cyclone. To his surprise, a golden-skinned angelic figure, and a half-elf appeared out of thin air. They spoke a few words and the celestial was gone again in another rush of air.
The Society's Manor was already a place of wonder, and things were just beginning. The man who just arrived approached Azari, and asked his name.
Malt
Self-satisfied and well out of sight of the St Regis shop, Malt stopped to roll a smoke of the fine tobacco. He put it in his pocket, rather than lighting up right here, but was looking forward to the satisfying habit.
It was not far for him to stroll to Heidmarch Manor which was also in the Alabaster District. The manor was bordered by a wall which provided both security and privacy but Malt found the gate at the front of the property wide open. Entering, he saw the main manor house and a few other buildings spread across a well-manicured lawn. Servants bustled here and there, and could hear the clash and clamor of sword-play from somewhere beyond, evidently training by the tempo.
He entered the house with is usual swagger, and told the butler who appeared of his invitation. The man looked him up and down, saying nothing, but eventually admitted him to a large foyer, where two other men, an elf and half-elf by the looks, were talking in guarded tones.
Azari watches the Golden angelic figure more curious about that than the half elf before him, as it disappears his eyes go wide and he makes a few quick jots down in one of his journal. The young half elf's elven features stand true over his human ones, though is pointed ears not as pronounced, his hair lustrous and silver, though his robes appear nice a single patch stands on his robes looks as though something was torn off and a new piece sewn in.
Azari, scholar of ancient lore and dead civilizations. I have some contracts with the Society but i am somewhat independent. I received a letter from Sheila whilst in the midst of my studies. He gets up to greet and offers a hand to shake.
The Younger Half-Elf grins stepping forward, his stride purposeful and confident. He wears a white silk shirt with a high collar to shield him from winds. Black Linen Pants mark him as fairly well heeled. And High Black Boots gives him an appearance of someone who cares what others think of him. A Cloak of forest green hangs over his shoulder. Its hood down his back. Gloves of the same color are tucked into his belt. A spear is cradled in his arms and dagger hangs on the right side of his waist. A large tome pokes at the edges of his backpack. His Light Blue eyes sparkle with intelligence as he says Well Met. Timerus A'Conal we share a love of the scholarly life then. I have no contracts...or contacts. However obviously Ms Heidmarch thought I could be of use on this venture, for the Celestial was sent to fetch me. Do you have any idea what this is about? .
|
|
Malt internally sighs at the once-over given him by the servant. His hopes of being treated differently in the home of a Pathfinder dashed.
Whelp, maybe his tune will change once I’ve built up a bit o’ credit with tha Society.
Malt strides into the room with the other perspective Pathfinders summoned to the manor. He is a bear of a man, not as tall as some half-orcs, at only 6’3” but massive all the same. Not the narrow waisted, broad shouldered build of the warriors of story books but a hulking build of the thuggish villains they regularly dispatched. He is clad in well worn, but well maintained, scale mail. A large shield is slung over his back and he is bristling with weaponry. A scimitar rides on his left hip, a cudgel on his right, his right armor gauntlet bristles with spikes and a quiver with three javelins peaks over his right shoulder.
As he looks at the scholarly gentleman waiting ahead of him, Malt softly grunts.
Whelp, I guess I know what my job is gonna be in this crew. Least it’s a step up from hired muscle.
For a moment he wondered what it was going to be like traveling around with a pair of “fancy elves” before recognizing the irony of this train of thought and pushing it out of his head. If he expected to be treated fairly despite his race, he had better well do it with others. With that he addresses the scholars.
Pleased ta meetcha. I’m Malt, Lady Heidmarch call you gents in as well?
Audri
Provided Audri accepts the room for the night, she is shown into a neat and tidy bedroom that is comfortably furnished, if not exactly the latest styles. Coming from the woods, she barely notices, however.
A wash basin allows her to cleanse the dust from her face and hair, and the bed is much softer than any she's known. She sleeps long and heavily, much weariness from her travels lifting from her with the night's rest.
When she wakes in the morning, she is surprised to see the sun so advanced in the sky. It must be mid-morning already! Since she is unfamiloar with Magnimar, she had planned an early start to find the Alabaster District and Heidmarch Manor within, but now she must find a direct route to the Society headquarters.
Scurrying to get ready, the druid skips the morning meal and rushes outside, finding a cab driver dropping off another guest at the Green Apple. Audri commandeers the vehicle and rides quickly to the Manor, staring in wonder at the cities sights and sounds, including the ancient and cyclopean monuments.
Soon, she is paying the driver, and rushing into the lodge. The footman shows her to the room where three other fellows, a pair of elves and an orc by the look of it, are conversing.
She stops to catch her breath, her hungry stomach groaning a bit, then joins the others.
When the brutish Malt enters the room...Timerus gives a start oh my escapes from between his lips involuntarily.
after Malt speaks the Arcanist says as he steps a few feet back, knowing the spear he cradled in his arms would do little to dissuade the Half-Orc from any violence he intended....
Im Timerus. Yes quite. Ive yet to meet her. Rather I was summoned by an Angel, if you will. Ive just arrived myself. I was just asking Azari here what he knew of this 'mission' they wanted us for...
Not much unfortunately. i assume it involves something concerning older civilizations though He answers, as Malt enters the room his brows raise, And then there were three... Greetings fellow, i'm Azari. Myself, i just got a note, she found me sleeping in the library again. Though i have little clue whats going on, just guesses and assumptions
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Very well," says the stern matron. "I will let you the room, but only for tonight. You must give me a reason to extend you thereafter, like cutting yourself loose from those wretched Pathfinders."
And, people remarked how gruff druids could be. Mistress Merryweather of the Green Apple could make some druids quake in their boots! Audri politely, and a little awkwardly, inclined her head and answered as cordially as she could muster, "Thank you, Mistress Merryweather. I am grateful for your kindness."
Accepting the key, Audri moved, without dawdling, to her assigned chamber. She locked her door once the innkeeper had left her and washed the dirt and grime from her person before laying down to rest/sleep after her long journey.
Her mind and body were accustomed to her early risings, so she woke at her usual time and pulled herself out of the soft bed and quickly undertook her ablution. Then opening the small window in her room to allow some fresh, cool air to enter, Audri sat cross-legged on the wooden floor and closed her eyes, reaching out to the green places to ruminate over the course of an hour to prepare her spells for the day ahead. Once she was done, she packed up her belongings and promptly returned the key to Mistress Merryweather (with her cordial thanks) for Audri was not sure if she would return or if she would be welcomed back at the Green Apple. She dashed into the carriage outside and made for the Society's headquarters.
Soon, she is paying the driver, and rushing into the lodge. The footman shows her to the room where three other fellows, a pair of elves and an orc by the look of it, are conversing. She stops to catch her breath, her hungry stomach groaning a bit, then joins the others.
Audri hoped her stomach wouldn't growl too loudly. I will break my fast at the end of the meeting. She took a deep breath and stepped toward the small congregation of males. Having caught the tail end of their introductions, Audri followed suit, "My apologies for my abrupt arrival. Well met. I am Audri Wrenn; druidic healer. I, too, received a missive from Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch, which has brought me, here, with you," she announced in her usual warm and husky-toned voice. Audri's bronzed skin was a little flushed for having rushed to be at the meeting on time. Her expressive hazel-grey eyes took in the males in the space, out of curiosity more than anything else, and, then looked about the room.
As Audri entered the room...Timerus held up 4 fingers to Azari. and then bowed low to the Druidess. He tood back up saying Timerus A'Conal; Arcanist and Scholar.
Seeing the Half-Elf Timerus' fine mannered bow, Audri returned a polite smile and inclined her head respectfully in acknowledgement. She then looked to the tall and broad-shouldered Half-orc warrior and silver-white haired Elven lorekeeper of the ancients.
"Have I missed any vital information? Or are you all just arrived like I?" Audri briefly glanced at the door to see if the lady venture-captain would be joining them soon.
Not much Just continued introductions. I arrived first, snacks on the table there while we wait. I'm Azari. Azari gives a polite bow and motions to the table of snacks
The Elf's polite bow was also well received by Audri, and a nice change from the recent disapproving ire of the innkeeper at the Green Apple. Hello, Azari." she smiled at the willowy Elven male. "I did not eat this morning from fear of being late, so a little food to fill my stomach sounds good. Thank you." Audri moved to the table and poured herself a cup of water and collected a few morsels of food to nibble on before the meeting formally started. She hadn't eaten since the morning of the previous day and it felt good to break her fast. "It is good," is all she could politely say while eating with some semblance of social grace among this varied company. "I have come from Nirmathas and the journey was long," she offered in way of explanation as to why she seemed to be nervous and eating hurriedly. "A local innkeeper was none too pleased to have a future Pathfinder staying in her establishment - and begrudgingly permitted me a night's accommodation. I did sleep soundly last eve, though, even as I'm rushing around this morning." Audri gave a soft, husky laugh imagining what Mistress Merryweather would do/say if she showed up on her doorstep this evening, if there was no other place to sleep. Audri popped a sweet grape into her mouth, savouring its taste.
Just then, one of the doors off the foyer slides open and two women emerge, involved in conversation. One woman wears a opulent black dress and a stunning set of diamond jewels. She is clearly the mistress of the manor, Venture Captain Sheila Heidmarch. With her is an attractive half -elven woman dressed in leather armor and armed with a distinctive-looking mithral-and-redwood aklys (a hooked club attached to a cord) and a bastard sword (both weapons are currently sheathed or hanging from her belt).
"Thank you for answering my summons, novice Pathfinders," says Sheila in an unusually deep voice and a no-nonsense attitude. "Koriah was just describing for me her latest mission to Nor-Voth via the Fogscar Mountains. She discovered a surprising number of artifacts, some from ancient Thassilon, and we must discuss the implications of these findings for a few more moments. I apologize for the further delay." The Venture Captain pauses a few moments as if deep in thought. "Please, follow me into the study." She motions to the adjoining room that they just came from.
The indicated chamber is the lodge's library and study. The walls are lined with bookshelves, while several tables in the middle of the room are heaped with scrolls and books. One table in the center, however, supports only a single object -- an ornate cubical stone coffer covered with Thassilonian runes. The Pathfinder leader motions for you to have a seat, though she and her companion remain standing.
"Again, I apologize for the delay, but I must continue my discussion with Pathfinder Azmeren. In the meantime, though, I thought you could help us with another minor issue. This stone coffer is an ancient Thassilonian puzzle, a cunning feat of magical engineering known as a paradox box. As you'll see from even a casual investigation, what appear to be seams on the sides are only shallow grooves -- there's no obvious way to open the thing. Each paradox box has its own secret method of being opened. Essentially, a paradox box substitutes hidden catches and magical triggers for a lock. Given time, anyone clever enough could figure out how to open a paradox box, just as given time, a locksmith can open any lock. This particular box was among those items recovered by Koriah-the scrolls next to the box are her preliminary notes on possible triggers or methods of opening it, but she's not yet had a chance to sit down and properly investigate the thing. So ... why don't you put your heads together and see if you can't do that for me? Even if the box is empty, as I suspect it probably is, knowing the method of opening it makes it a valuable find anyway. I'll return shortly, and I hope to see that box open! Think of this as an audition, if you will -- because the actual task I want to speak to you about soon will require as much wit as it will brawn!"
With that, the Venture-Captain, and the half elf, sweep from the room, drawing the door closed behind them.
Sheila Heidmarch and Koriah Azmeren good to see a fellow Scholar... Wait ancient Thassilonian... That's why i'm here. Azari follows into the study and immediedtly takes to looking at the ancient Thassilonian object, Where did you find this specifically? it's covered in Thassilonian runes He's completely nerding out pulling out many of his books and tomes. He runs his hand only the runes curiously studying the feel and runes.
This is fascinating...
When The Pathfinder Venture Captain entered with her comrade in tow Timerus tried to recall what he knew of them.
When he realized who it was he was in a state of shock. He had just read her manuscript detailing her discovery of an ancient Thassilonion portal beneath an Inn in Maginmar that connected to ruins in the darklands.
He kept quiet as they were guided into the study and he looked around in awe at all the books. What would he find if he but looked through them.....
Then he saw the box and his curiosity was piqued. As they left the room he said softly as he pulled a prism from a pouch and said a few arcane syllables looking at the box. from about 5 feet away. He said softly wait to touch it for a bit eh?! So I can see what magic it holds. Oh by the way did you know who that was with our Captain? Koriah Azmeren. The famous Explorer. I just finished her Manuscript yesterday outlining the discovery of the Achimedes Gate. Excellent work that.
The strange coffer is clearly magical. It emanates a strong aura, the strongest in the room.
The pile of papers and scrolls on the table appears to be the Pathfinder Koriah's notes about the coffer. The scrolls list translations of the significant runes on the box. One of the most oft-repeated symbols was the rune for "wrath," which Koriah also notes is associated with evocation magic, and in the earliest days of Thassilon with the word "kindness."
Timerus says to the others It radiates very strong Magic; but what type of magic eludes me...so have a care before you open it. This could be some sort of magical trap.
Audri inclined her head toward both women as they entered the room. She listened to Timerus as he quietly explained who the Half-Elf Pathfinder Koriah was.
Moving into the adjoining chamber, Audri keenly eyed the cubical stone coffer known as a paradox box. It was an intriguing object as she had never seen one before. The scrolls which formed part of Koriah Azmeren's notes were also worth studying.
Once the female leaders left them in the library, she heeded Timerus' caution not to try to open the magical trap without further investigation. She silently pondered what kind of magic was used on the coffer.
However, such a spell was beyond her comprehension in the moment. "The magic is beyond my ken, too. I do not read Ancient Thassilonian, so I cannot help you there either."
Audri then moved around the paradox box, examining the strange grooves on the sides; wondering how it could be opened without magical means. She quietly began to cast a spell, touching her hand to imbue herself with divine guidance.
She then turned to the scrolls to read Koriah's notes and see if there was something of import or use contained within.
I read Thassilonian actually... Maybe if we look over Koriah's notes He stops his observations and goes to studying her papers
Timerus allows the magic from his simple cantrip to wane as he leans over to read the runes on the box.
I do know Thassilonian as well
Timerus looks through the notes as well as the runes on the box, which do seem to correspond with the Thassilonian symbol for Wrath.