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Your instructions from the Master of Scrolls were unusually straightforward. Kreighton Shaine asked you to pack some clothing suited to the rainy Varisian climate this time of year, gather up your adventuring equipment, and make for a ship he had chartered for you in Diobel by the name of "The Peckish Piranha" with a minimum of attention.
Once aboard, you found yourselves bound for Korvosa. The humorless captain, a halfling with unusually sharp teeth, smiles awfully little during the journey but roused himself from his apathy toward you just long enough to provide a letter scrawled in a familiar elf's hand.
Pathfinders,
I have recently uncovered a series of notes that I believe hold critical truths about the origins of the Pathfinder Society and the founding of the Decemvirate. A gnome Pathfinder by the name of Eylysia was well-known at that time and was held in high esteem until an assassination attempt on members of the Decemvirate organized by Eylysia led to her ejection from the Society. These notes I have found indicate there may be quite a bit more to Eylysia’s story than we previously realized.
The most legible of Eylysia’s notes reference a “speaking artifact” purportedly lying beneath a “false rider.” Descriptions drawn from recent visions suggest the “speaking artifact” originated in Varisia. I suspect it is related to the Shoanti, a people well-known both for their oral traditions and horsemanship.
It seems Eylysia suspected that the noted explorer, Montlarion Jeggare, had glimpsed this “speaking artifact”. Head to the Jeggare Museum in Korvosa, where Montlarion’s ancestor, Mercival Jeggare, serves as curator. Once there, see if you can locate this “speaking artifact”. I await your findings.
Sincerely,
Kreighton Shaine
With several weeks journey, you and your party-mates are likely to learn something about each other, even if it's only their habits in the mess hall or their inability to climb into their assigned hammock.
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"Hello, everybody! I'm Vin! Nice ta meet all of yah." an energetic young woman barely more than a girl says as she smiles broadly. "Ollysta Zadrian sent me to help! I'm real good at getting through locks and acquiring stuff if needed. I also ended up with this cool but kind of disturbing power from living in the Precipice District as a child." Rocks and branches start to move and swirl around Vin in a 20' radius. She motions a rock over to float over to her and then with a flick of her finger, she smashes it into the large rock 100 feet away leaving a dent. "So yeah. That tends to hurt. Not so good at the knowing stuff though."
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Heading towards the ship, the elven man thumbs the missive a bit as he counts off the preparations he's made. "Wand of Endure Elements is a bit charred...but tis a bit more life in it...Curative stick...same...though it's useless without a teammate that can activate its secrets." His hand passes over the forlorn dagger at his side as he smiles. "If they expect me to use this thing we're all in trouble..."
"如果找到密碼箱該怎麼辦？你打算怎麼打開它？" rings out in his head.
Glancing upwards towards the dragon flying about a few feet above, he nods slowly. "通常某人具有這種技能。但是，您的觀點是正確的。"
"What if you find a lockbox? How are you going to open it?"
"Typically someone has such skills. However, your point is valid."
Buying a scroll of knock and Hold Portal - 175g
The pale, white haired man smiles at the energetic youngling. "Very nice. While I don't pretend to know all there is, I do find the intellectual side of things quite interesting. Any day you don't learn something new is a day wasted, right?"
Patting a large leather bound tome, he adds "I've got a talent for changing the shape of things. Thickening fogs, sinking the earth, bringing forth beasts to fight on occasion..." pausing a moment, as he glances around at the crew, he lowers his voice. "The society however, finds my talents at getting inside closed doors quite useful."
Suddenly, a tiny blue dragon with long wings lands on his shoulder and bites the man's pointed ear. "OH! How could I forget. This here is Tuva, the Playful. I found him as a mere egg and raised him. I'm Manathiel."
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A small male gnome wanders on the ship, sniffing the salty air with relish. Behind him quickly trods an angry looking boar. The gnome speaks quickly, "He's with me, wouldn't hurt a... well won't hurt you all."
The gnome wears a basic brown and grey explorer’s outfit and carries a backpack. The boar seems almost better outfitted than the druid in studded leather with a loaded pack saddle strapped to his back.
When pointed to the berths he finds a couple hammocks and removes the pack saddle from his companion, plopping it down to claim a sleeping spot. Scratching his porcine pal on the neck just above his armor he smiles, "Let's go get a good spot to watch everything."
Observing the human and elf w/ baby dragon boarding he waves over from the bow, "Hullo there, bunks are below, join me up here once settled. It's the best view."
When they arrive he introduces himself and the piggy, "I'm Dexter Majet and this is Salazar. Just Dexter and Sal works though. He handles the muscle if we run across trouble and I just try to get stuff back in balance wherever we go."
Handing out a couple small packets of printed paper he adds, "If you ever run across an ecosystem out of whack or just some corrupted nature, give me a holler."
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The Pale Butcher is an all too familiar sight to the victims of Queen Ileosa's reign, a tall powerfully built woman in gleaming silver plate, though her cloak and plumage have been redyed a pale yellow instead of the red common the the Gray Maidens.
A heavy-bladed falchion with a black ribbon tied to its pommel rests at her belt. When she greets her new companions, she stands rigidly, always seeming ready to respond to whatever threats might be conjured up at a moment's notice. "Hello. I am the Pale Butcher."
"I have only recently joined this society, and my sponsor suggested that I would do well to learn the history of my new organization. I know Korvosa quite well already." Her voice seems almost hollowed out by the muffling echoes of her helm, but she sounds sincere enough.
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A thin, pale half elf with golden blonde hair, tied expertly in a flowing lock on the back of his head, walks calmly through those gathered. His hand rests upon the deep black hilt of a katana sheathed at his side. He smirks as he listens to the agents assigned speak.
"Well met agents. My name is Idril Bladesong. I see the powers have assembled quite the menagerie." He laughs as he looks over at Salazar and Tuva then back to the group. "Please pardon my demeanor, I am only used to the company of tomes and scrolls, oh, and my only companion, Ankar." He taps the hilt of his sword. "Say hello won't you?" Idril smiles to himself mostly. "Heh. I would say he says hello but I would not want to start this expedition off by lying to you all. It is not his fault, he is made from suspect stock." Idril laughs as if hearing a joke only audible to him.
On the ship, he lifts his head to the wind, and basks in the sun and surf. He nods to Manathiel. "Indeed friend. I see so many waste their days. I certainly hope we will not waste ours."
The half-elf leans back, hands behind his head, eyes closed as he soaks in the sunlight.
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Shortly before the ship is scheduled to disembark, a weirdly sudden clattering of exceptionally large hooves can be heard coming down the dock. As the sound grows louder its source can be seen - a great black carriage, which halts abruptly at the gangplank, and from it emerges an unnaturally, tall, attractive, and well-groomed man dressed in conspicuously fine attire. With his flowing silver-white hair, smooth marble-grey skin, and golden eyes that gleam like a pair of newly-minted coins, he almost looks as though he might literally be made of money.
"How do?" He inquires in a rich, slightly sultry voice as he bounds up the gangplank, a hunchbacked porter bringing his luggage behind him. "Viscount Mercutio Menschjaeger, at your service - fighter, lover, mover, shaker, magician, politician, dilettante, bon vivante."
"My good man," He gestures to Idril. "Might I commend you on your sense of style. I don't know, there's just something about it."
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The Piranha arrives in Korvosa a few days ahead of her scheduled arrival, as befits the favorable winds that had your back for the first week after you passed through the Hespereth Strait and entered the Arcadian Ocean. Gangplanks ease your way to the pier and, from there, you have free run of the city of Korvosa. The museum isn't difficult to find should you wish to head straight there.
A cacophany of voices washes over you: mostly Taldane with a particular Chelish staccato, plus a dash of Polyglot. If you have a keen ear for language, you can catch bits of conversation in Varisian once you hit the streets. A cool breeze from the docks reminds you that despite the sun, it's not yet summer here in Varisia.
An imp, perched on the eaves of a nearby building, watches you for a moment before being chased off by a silvery-looking tiny dragon.
You might be interested in researching Korvosa, the Shoanti, and Montlarion Jeggare before arriving at the museum.
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Watching the tiny dragon and imp engage each other, Manathiel pets Tuvna gently. "不用擔心我的朋友。那種不會輸掉這場鬥爭。"
"Don't worry my friend. Your kind cannot lose the fight."
"Keep an eye out for imps, otyughs, and shrew flies." warns the elf.
"You know, of course, before this was the metropolis it is now, the Chelish marines constructed the fort as a defensive point of Varisia."
"During the Everwar, the Shoanti tribes vehemently resisted the soldiers lead by Field Marshal Korvosa...might have won too if it hadn't been for Montlarion Jeggare. He lead an expedition up the river to resupply the Field Marshal."
His eyes glancing downward, he adds "Naturally, pathfinders followed behind the armies plundering many of the sites left behind."
Stopping to look over his companions, he smiles again. "I'm ready for the museum myself. I've always wanted to visit, just never had the time. Did anyone need to stop anywhere first?"
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Butch keeps her own counsel, but is glad to hear Manathiel's expertise. Her demeanor, normally far from warm, has grown even more taut as she returns home. "As long as we stay out of the Shingles we should be able to avoid the worst of the imps and dragons." She shifts uneasily in her armor. "It makes sense Korvosa is where we can find the lessons of sins past; their scars run deep here."
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Between the university campus and the houses in Five Corners stands the Jeggare Museum. This neo-Azlanti edifice looks to be built from solid marble, while a bronze plaque on the front reads "Jeggare Museum." The doors swing open easily.
Inside the front doors, a young Varisian woman begins taking your names and slowly scribbling them on a ledger, when your host bounds into the room.
“Welcome to my museum Pathfinders! I am Mercival Jeggare (slide 3), the head curator.” This declaration comes from a portly man adorned in a frock coat and ruffled blouse. The scholarly figure gestures toward a grand entryway dotted with displays of weapons, artwork, and fossilized remains. “Come in, come in! Always a pleasure to host members of the Society. I assume this is in regards to the missive I received from Mr. Shane?”
"Here, let me take you to the Montlarion Collection! In the meantime, I'm sure you must have some questions. Where would you like to start? My esteemed ancestor? The artifacts themselves? Oh, and what was it that you were looking for?"
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"Ahhh, Mr. Jeggare! You might say we were looking for you. Your bloodline's reputation precedes you...literally. Seeing as you are a man of learning, let us begin with the simplest approach: Does the phrase 'a speaking artifact lying beneath a false rider' mean anything in particular to you - perhaps something in relation to the Shoanti people?"
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"Ahhh, Mr. Jeggare! You might say we were looking for you. Your bloodline's reputation precedes you...literally. Seeing as you are a man of learning, let us begin with the simplest approach: Does the phrase 'a speaking artifact lying beneath a false rider' mean anything in particular to you - perhaps something in relation to the Shoanti people?"
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+10
Jeggare laughs, and claps Mercutio on the shoulder--or tries to, anyway, depending on Mercutio's need for personal space. "My, you have a way with words! I need someone of your caliber to sweet-talk adventurers into making contributions to the collection! And, perhaps, to talk some funding out of the Lord-Mayor on occasion. If you ever want to hang your hat up as a Pathfinder, let me know!"
"Regarding your question itself, however, I am less certain. It is a simple matter to add an enchanted mouth to a relic or artefact speak, so I suppose that could be it. A rider could suggest a representation of a mounted individual, perhaps--or it could be a legal term, and indicate a provisio or alteration to a preexisting statement or decree."
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Idril looks about the museum,always eager to absorb new information. He smirks as he watched the exchange between Mercutio and Mercival. He tilts his head as Dexter inquires about the Jeggare line. He cannot help but add "Yes, please Master Jeggare. I am also curious to hear of your famous lineage from the mouth of an actual member of the line. I am especially eager of your predecessor Montlarion. Did you ever come across his dealings with one of our esteemed members by the name of Elysia?"
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"Ah, right this way!" the larger man beckons. "We've got quite a collection here in this gallery--while some of Montlarion's personal effects are undergoing restoration for public debut, the bulk of the artifacts remain on display here. We can show you all sorts of interesting things. The name Elysia does sound familiar..."
Jeggare guides you into a larger exhibit. Skylights illuminate this gallery, and of the individual artifacts on display within decorative alcoves, Vin and Manathiel see wooden totems and tools. A massive glass-walled case dominates the center of the gallery and holds three bound volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles. To the south, a table bears two metal chests as another holds two wooden reliefs.
More wood-carved pieces rest within a raised exhibition area to the north. Some of these fragile antiques date from Korvosa's founding, others are vestiges of conquered Shoanti tribes, and ancient rune-etched artifacts hint at the distant past and Ancient Thassilon. Combined, these three sources seem to account for the bulk of the collection.
Mercival wipes off a thick coating of dust and mutters, "I really need to have a word with the help about this." before he continues. "In recent years, the collection’s expanded to include treasures from other all over Golarion. Why just this morning, we procured several Tian antiquities. If you'd like, we can tour the restoration workrooms momentarily, but you really should take in the whole of the Montlarion collection. It's really something, I promise you.”
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"You know, it's really a shame that it's been so overcast today. With the sun shining, the display cases just gleam and--"
As Mercival Jeggare looks up through the skylight, he stops, and his jaw drops. You all look upward to see the source of the dust: a huge swarm of insects has found a taste for the wooden scaffolding supporting the skylight.
"FLIES! They're eating the roof!" the curator yells. Simultaneously, one huge pane of glass drops, suddenly free of its long confinement. In quick succession, the entire skylight shatters upon the marbled floor. The sound of buzzing fills the hall!
Initiatives!
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22: Mercutio
19: Swarm 1
18: Vin
16: The Pale Butcher
14: Idril
12: Manathiel
12: Swarm 2
10: Swarm 3
9: Dexter
9: Giant Fly
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Jeggare laughs, and claps Mercutio on the shoulder--or tries to, anyway, given that Mercutio is 6-and-a-half feet tall.
Mercutio looks up with a bemused expression. "You don't say? Is that...a common problem here?"
Fortunately, the Viscount has not been caught unprepared!
Well, he hadn't exactly come prepared to be throwing hazardous chymicals around a museum....
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The flask is flung wide! Brave Mercutio murders dozens of the tiny buggers with a splash of highly corrosive acid, but hundreds of their brethren barely notice the loss.
For reaching this DC you can ask one question about a shrew fly swarm. You can ask one additional question for every 5 by which you beat the DC. I'm happy to work from the Play by Post list but if you had a question that's not covered there I'm game, like for example ecology.
For reaching this DC you can ask one question about shrew flies. You can ask one additional question for every 5 by which you beat the DC. I'm happy to work from the Play by Post list but if you had a question that's not covered there I'm game, like for example ecology.
Swarm One seems downright voracious as it surges toward its next target! It doesn't think Mercutio is tasty, however--instead, the flies make for a ceremonial Shoanti robe on display!
These flies seem particularly hungry and begin eating the artifact!
Initiatives!
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18: Vin
16: The Pale Butcher
14: Idril
12: Manathiel
12: Swarm 2
10: Swarm 3
9: Dexter
9: Giant Fly
22: Mercutio
19: Swarm 1
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Idril turns alarmed as the bugs descend. "What the devil?" The half elf pats his pockets, clearly searching for something that is not there. "Of course I failed to restock myself before we left. Naturally." He sighs and waves his hand in a clearly practiced gesture. He points a hand at one of the swarms as a ray of clod blue energy spouts forth. Idril tries to cover as much od the swarm as he can before the spell fades.
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It has the distraction ability, like almost all swarms. It also has the devour ability (it will automatically try to eat anything in its area) and the voracious ability (it does double damage while eating objects made of organic material, particularly plant material!)
Swarms are immune to any effect that targets a finite number of individual targets, including weapon attacks. You can't disintegrate a swarm, nor can you ray of frost them... (hmmm) although the full burny (etc) damage from splash weapons is usually understood to apply. As vermin the shrew flies are also immune to mind-affecting effects.
As you read in the special attacks section above, these flies evolved to be crop pests and while blood is nutritious, these things prefer grains and vegetable matter!
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Dexter shares his info, hitting the highlights as he rattles along, "Okay, I know why they are going after the stuff instead of us. This is a subspecies of a locust swarm and enjoys anything made of organic material, especially plant based items. It'll eat us if nothing like that is around but I hope we can take it out before it destroys the items here. The big fly has an acid spit thing out about 20-30 feet, but I'll be sending Sal in to get after it soon."
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The Pale Butcher's presence seems to fill the room, and fire blossoms in the hall! Her aim may be off, but perhaps it's a warning shot?
Vin takes up significantly less psychic space in the room, but she creates an explosion nonetheless. Shattered marble--both glass and mineral--leaves a fine powder floating in the air once your ears stop ringing! Only a handful of dazed flies flutter about; some find solace with their fellows, while others make for the sun above and a sweet reprieve from death.
Initiatives!
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14: Idril (may be having second thoughts)
12: Manathiel
12: Swarm 2 (dead and gone)
10: Swarm 3 (-1)
9: Dexter
9: Giant Fly
22: Mercutio
19: Swarm 1 (-1)
18: Vin
16: The Pale Butcher
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Most of the bugs aren't where the explosion is, but some of them burn...
The other swarm seems oblivious to everything--your fireworks, its missing brethren... but not the wooden rune-inscribed totem glowing faintly in a broken display case!
You hear yelling from another part of the museum.
"Yes, get the wan--by Aroden's apron, I did not mean the wand of fireball! No we've got the maintenance wands over in this cabinet..."
Initiatives!
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9: Dexter
9: Giant Fly
22: Mercutio
19: Swarm 1 (-2)
18: Vin
16: The Pale Butcher
14: Idril
12: Manathiel
10: Swarm 3 (-1)
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Dexter pulls out a thin sheet of paper and begins reading the magical script, "hocus pocus, make this piggy's bite focus!" The scroll turns to dust and leaves his hand glowing, which he uses to touch Sal on his shoulder transferring the glow to the boar. Dexter points at the fly in the back of the room, "GIT EM!"
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From one of the back offices, the conversation continues. "Ah, there it is! I hope we can use this to chase the damned shrewflies off before they eat anything! That ritual Thassilonian scepter especially. I'd hate to tell Riddleport we had another artifact eaten..."
The overlarge shrewfly has other plans. Buzzing away from Salazar, it alights on a glass case.
The glass case breaks under the fly's weight, and its proboscis squirts some sort of goop onto... is that a rod or scepter, maybe? It then starts slurping it up!
That doesn't look so good for the Thassilonian scepter. There's nothing left of it at all! The fly pivots its torso around, facing the priceless artifact in the adjacent glass case. Whatever it is. You can't see it because there's a fly in the way.
Initiatives!
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22: Mercutio
19: Swarm 1 (-2)
18: Vin
16: The Pale Butcher
14: Idril
12: Manathiel
10: Swarm 3 (-1)
9: Dexter
9: Giant Fly