The Cypher Lodge is one of Riddleport’s finest inns, and Grandmaster Torch currently inhabits its finest suite. Flanked by his ubiquitous half-orc bodyguards and the weasel-faced Varisian businessman Guaril Karela, Torch speaks
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A large man, seemingly made of gold leans against the wall. A giant ax hangs from his back. He nods in greeting. Name's Malaz. Glad to have this opportunity."[/b]
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While waiting for the others to arrive, Zranashta sits on the floor cross-legged, with Spot curled up next to her. From the Pathfinder's pouch on her belt, she produces a fine wooden box. She opens it and removes an old deck of harrow cards, likely a family heirloom. She places the deck before her, and performs a divination ritual, drawing a card — seemingly without even touching the deck — from the middle of the stack.
Zranashta opens her eyes and looks at the card, then lays it face up on the floor in front of her.
The card shows the Moon passing in front of the Sun. "Eclipse." Zranashta says, quietly and ominously. "This is portent of evil, but also order. Today shall prove interesting. Veery interesting."
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"Not really sure why we are here today, even if the cards say it will be 'veery interesting'." "Nice to see you, spokesman Karela." "I am not of your faction, but I have heard you are a man of talent."
He turns to Grandmaster Torch, "Nice to meet you, Sir. Can't say that I really know why I am meeting you but that it must be important to the Society."
The man is dressed in green and brown travel clothes, a hint of silvery chain armor visible from under the travel cloak. He has a composite longbow grounded at one end and is leaning casually against it. A quiver with many arrows in it draped over a shoulder and a heavy looking backpack is laid at his feet.
"Cuethric, Archer and Pathfinder, at your service."
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A short and slightly pudgy kitsune enters the room. He wears the simple grey clothes of a martial artist, while exhibiting nothing of the build. He doesn't seem to carry any weapons unless they are stored far from reach in a bulging backpack. A banner is draped over his shoulder, one side bearing the Glyph of the Open Road, while the other has the Master's Rebus superimposed over a pawprint.
"Hello, all! Name's Draklor, preacher of Irori and always here to help. Looks like a big social gathering in here." Contempt looks like an emotion alien to Draklor's face, but it's definitely there when looking at Torch and possibly Karela.
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”You must relax. Close your eyes. Breath, deep breath. Allow stars to pierce your soul.” A small illusory butterfly springs from Zranashta's hand and flits about for a minute before fading away into nothingness.
Once her client is sufficiently relaxed, Zranashta shuffles the harrow deck and hands it to him. ”Please cut deck.” After the cut, she deals nine cards, face down, in a three-by-three square array.
”This top row represents goodness. Middle row is neutral. And bottom row is evil in world.” She gestures to each row as she lays the cards on the surface in front of her.
”You want to know future? Future is this column, on right. Much chaos is future. Veery chaos. To know future, we must first know past and present. Past is this column, on left. Past is all order. Nothing can change past. Past is law. This column in middle, that is present. Present is present. Neither order nor chaos is present. Is just is.”
”Now we learn about past.” With a sweeping and fluid, almost exaggerated flourish of her hand above the cards, the Varisian seer turns over the three cards in the left-hand column.
”First card is Idiot. It is sometimes evil card, but not today. Today it is something good in your past. It can mean many things, but I believe it points to folly in your past that you view as good. No? It also represents intelligence. I suspect you are someone who is veery veery smart. Yes?”
”Second card is Liar. It too is evil card, again not today. Today it points to your charisma. If I to take guess, I would say you are actor. Much acting. But acting is as acting is. This you feel neither good nor bad. Probably why you on Pathfinder adventures. Veery good.”
”Ah. This card. Fiend is veery evil card and veery lawful card. That this card appear in evil part of your past is important. Fiend represents the deaths of many in a disaster. Was there some significant disaster in your past that resulted in deaths of many peoples? Tragic. But it is in past. Cannot change past. Let's look at present.”
With another flourish, Zranashta turns the three cards in the middle column.
”First card in present is Winged Serpent, couatl. As card in suit of Stars, it is card of great wisdom. Much good comes from this card. It represents your desire to bridge void between towers of knowledge and judgement. That is why you are here today. And this card says that is good decision. Veery good decision.”
”Second present card is Dance. It is also good card, and points to your past. But today, in this position it means something else. It is in suit of Keys, which is meaning dexterity. Dance requires cooperation between partners, and that is what this card is meaning. You are here in this present moment to offer cooperation. This is positive sign that we are all here for same thing. Yes?”
”Ah. Third card in present is Tyrant. This is evil card for evil in present. Tyrants are rulers who are evil to those they rule. But this card can represent any leader. There is evil leader somewhere in your present. Veery interesting.”
”Now for future. Everyone always want to know future. Remember, future is nothing. All chaos is future.” With one more sweeping gesture, Zranashta flips the final column of cards.
”Exciting! First card in future is Unicorn! Unicorn is good card representing chaos. Because it appear in good position in future means it is veery important card. Unicorn another card in suit of Crowns, meaning charisma, meaning leadership. It usually mean one who gives that which is sought. This is extremely good portent for mission.” Zranashta smiles at Draklor, warmly.
”Second card of future is Mute Hag. Although she is evil, she also mean wisdom. Much wisdom. See? Star suit.” she points at the suit of the card. ”Hag represents insight and betrayal. She purveyor of blood pacts, treacherous secrets, and discord. Perhaps this means you will soon see insight into some treachery that is close to you? Veery exciting.”
”Last card is Rakshasa, another Book suit card. First card in Book suit,” she points to The Idiot, ”last card in Book suit. Interesting. Rakshasa mean domination, mental control, and slavery. Is warning. This is evil future. Price of failure. Take heed.”
With that, Zranashta concludes her reading for Draklor with a gentle smile. Another flourish of her hands and the illusory butterfly returns, flitting about for a moment before once again fading away.
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Draklor does as instructed, despite not being very good at relaxing. He inquires as much as he is allowed during the ritual. "Why does the Idiot represent mental strength? Isn't there a Book card? I don't remember causing deaths, is this liable to account for some chain of events stemmed from something tiny? Everyone would register for that if so, and I don't hear tell of that, so...sobering."
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Ijo enters the lodge with a black panther at his side. Ijo is an elderly looking half-orc in purple robes over chain shirt. A heavy flail is slung over his back. His walks with eyes closed occasionally blinking hard revealing clouded eyes. He comes upon the discussion, A harrow reading. Phenomenal, it will be good to have fortune on our side. I am Ijo Ibn Son, greetings.
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As the team sits and talks together, the small jangling of bones can be heard as a small creature, covered in a black cloak comes in. The odd little fellow is clearly a ratfolk, but several things immediately attract your attention. In no particular order, you notice that he has a necklace of bones, claws, dried curious animal bits, and other things that adorn his neck, but also his belt and bag. He also wears a pair of incredibly thick glasses, making his eyes seem huge and wide. It's clear his vision is terrible, but the glasses give him a almost hilarious look.
Finally, he has a rather large plate covered with little pies.
"H-h-h-hello Everyone! I'm S-s-Shri C-c-colo, but my p-p-pathfinder friends call me Remmy. I b-b-brought snacks!"
He sets them down in front of everyone with a smile.
T-t-today we have a Chicken Pot Pie, with a goat cheese and vegetable filling. The chicken was cooked in new white wine and thyme mixture i'm trying, so please tell me what you think.
You notice his stutter disappears while he's talking about the food that he presents to everyone.
It's rather good chicken pot pie. Not exactly mama's home cooking, but certainly better than you'd find at a roadside inn.
Torch waits impatiently for everyone to arrive. Irritated by the delay, though it is subsided slightly by the last arrival bringing snacks.
“I cannot overstate how dangerous Dorianna Ouidda is,” the scarred Pathfinder begins. “She wears many masks, and she uses them all to orchestrate the utter destruction of the Pathfinder Society. As a highprofile politician in Andoran, she blocked the Society’s expansion into that nation. As a Gold Agent in the Aspis Consortium, she uses the Consortium’s limitless wealth to frustrate the Society’s business however she can. As the criminal mastermind known as the Spider, she engages in elaborate plots to frame the Pathfinder Society for her misdeeds. Ouidda even hired the Red Mantis Assassins to murder me, although I’m still a step ahead of those assassins for now.
“Dorianna Ouidda is one of the few people on Golarion who know the secret identities of the Decemvirate. She previously crafted an elaborate plot to turn a loyal Venture-Captain against the Decemvirate, and we suspect she is plotting to destroy the Decemvirate even now.
“Loyal Pathfinders have foiled Ouidda’s schemes again and again. We arranged her arrest in Andoran, but she leveraged her political connections and escaped. The time has come for more drastic action.” Torch gestures to the Varisian man at his side. “Guaril has a network of informants here in Riddleport, and they’ve identified the Spider’s lair.”
Guaril Karela smoothly adds, “I would say ‘observant acquaintances’ rather than ‘informants,’ but no matter. Ouidda owns a controlling interest in the Weaver’s Parlor, a gambling hall in the Free-Coin District. She transacts private
business from ancient chambers beneath the gambling hall, visited by only a few trusted associates. These chambers are accessed through a hidden door at the west end of the gambling hall’s wine cellar.”
Grandmaster Torch continues, “We know the Spider is in her lair now. Enter the chambers beneath the Weaver’s Parlor. Capture Dorianna Ouidda and return with her here. Ouidda may have made notes about the Decemvirate or their identities— bring that information back as well. Let me stress this: Ouidda must be captured alive. We need to learn the extent of her information about the Pathfinder Society and find out whether she has revealed this information to others.”
“You need to make haste, but I don’t want to rush past any questions you have. The better informed you are, the more likely you are to succeed.”
Before anyone even gets the chance to ask questions or rebuttal, Guaril presents to the team a set of masterwork manacles, a good lock for the manacles, a featureless hood, and a voluminous cloak. "To disguise the captive on your way back." he adds.
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Draklor purses his lips. "She sounds like a persistent thorn in several people's sides. Have you any clue what motivates her to do all this, besides her Aspis membership? And formidable on the political battlefield, no less! But what are her capabilities in combat? I'm sure she'll have plenty of guards regardless of the threat she poses. We'll try to avoid them."
He gladly partakes in the snacks, nodding in approval as he eats in silence. Eventually, he comes up with another question. "Who is allowed into the backroom? We could certainly assume the guise of gamblers to enter the Weaver's Parlor proper, at least. I'm curious if the rest can be done without just stealth. I'm not good at that."
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"What kind of information can you tell us about her fighting tactics and protection?" Cuethric asks without really thinking the question through.
"Do you have any suggestions on how to subdue her without killing her?" Again without really thinking.
Cuethric shifts uneasily on his feet having drawn attention to his 'not so extensive' information on the lady in question.
"If she is wearing a mask, how will we know we have the right person. Ah,how would we know we have got 'the right' spider lady?"
Sorry for his show of ignorance, Cuethric starts to color some in the face. But he wisely stops asking questions for fear of wearing their patience thin.
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Malaz take a pie and sniffs it. Savory pie? Is such a thing allowed? He takes a cautious bite, chewing deliberately. A small smile slowly slides across his lips. He washes the bite down with some wine. He turns to the chef, "Remmy is it? These are quite delicious. Thank you."
The aphorite continues to eat during the meeting. Many asked the same questions I had. So it seems as if most of them are competent. Never been with a harrower before. Maybe a trick or two to pick up. There's got to be more to Remmy that cooking. Should be interesting to see what he's got up his sleeve. His eyes pass over the rest of the team, but decides to reorient his focus back on the task at hand.
Grandmaster Torch responds to Draklor's questions first. "Yes, she is quite the thorn in the side of the Society, motivation have not been determined, but undermining the Society seems to be on of them as most of her activity no matter it's route seems to focus around attacking us, myself inparticular."
"As far as guards It's not likely. Ouidda doesn't keep any staff or servants in her chambers, as far as we know. That does not mean she is helpless though as she's known to be a persuasive orator who favors enchantment magic, but she isn't physically powerful."
"For the backroom, it leads to her private sanctum, and she only rarely transacts any business there with others. We suspect most in attendance, guards included may not even know they exist."
Guaril turns to Cuethric, [b]"Well, the Grandmaster just explained her fighting tactics, you are skilled Pathfinders at this point, we trust you to find a way to subdue her without killing her, she seems like the type who would rather not die if she knows she has lost."
"As far as finding here among the party, she is likely to be alone in her private chambers and not participating in the festivities."
As the team gets ready to leave, with Zranashta heading up the group to go gather information around the town, Draklor has a sudden moment of inspiration and suggests that Zranashta's attempts are not necessary before going into an expository explanation of his vast knowledge about the current ongoings.
The Weaver’s Parlor is currently holding a week-long gambling tournament for wealthy gamblers. Only well known gamblers or those with a large bankroll are admitted.
The other owner in the Weaver’s Parlor is Gaston Cromarcky, the Overlord of Riddleport. Overlord Cromarcky shamelessly uses the Gendarmes, Riddleport’s city watch, for personal events, so the Gendarmes will be providing security at the Weaver’s Parlor.
One of the Spider’s agents commissioned the construction of several clockwork guardians months ago, but the current whereabouts of those guardians is unknown. It is rumored that the Spider uses the guardians herself, as she is unwilling to trust corruptible mortals toward her inner sanctum.
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When the group is ready to go, Zranashta gathers her belongings, then takes one last sample of the pot pies, splits it in half and shares it with her dinosaur, Spot. "Come Spot. We go now. Good Spot." She pats him on the head, and she follows the others out the door.
On the way out, she draws a wand of mage armor and uses a charge on herself and another on Spot.
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Ijo listens to the snacking and reaches in a belt pouch for some seeds he likes to munch on. In another pouch he draws some dried meat to give to Najam. You can never tell with Pathfinders but those of you with the bigger weapons go up front, yes? I would offer you protection if you like.
Life Link (Su): The shaman creates a bond between herself and another creature within 30 feet. Each round at the start of the shaman’s turn, if the bonded creature is wounded for 5 or more hit points below its maximum hit points it heals 5 hit points and the shaman takes 5 points of damage. The shaman can have one bond active per shaman level. The bond continues until the bonded creature dies, the shaman dies, the distance between her and the bonded creature exceeds 100 feet, or the shaman ends it as an immediate action. If the shaman has multiple bonds active, she can end as many as she wants with the same immediate action.
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Draklor mutters a hurried prayer to Irori in thanks for the bounty of knowledge he managed to recall. "I don't have much sway on metal men, so hopefully I can leave that to you all. As for the Spider - maybe I can drown her out while you do the apprehending.
"Does anyone have a plan for getting in? I'm sure everyone and their mother knows of the Overlord's frivolous practices, so no leverage there. I'm also rather short on gold and was never one to gamble, but I can chip in if we want to try that. I'm sure a diviner could make a killing on such things." The kitsune grins at Zranashta.
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Malaz first turns to Ijo. "This protection you speak of intrigues me. Please, provide greater detail." The occultist listens intently to the mechanics of the bond.
The aphorite rubs a rag on his metallic golden skin until anyone near by can see their own reflection. "I'm sure one of you more loquacious than I can use me to your advantage. There is that adage about 'worth their weight in gold'. That may be applicable in this situation."
Description is found here.
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"I hope you aren't overly invested in that plan," Draklor says to Malaz. "I've had too many assignments where we were on the verge of losing a more...exotic comrade to some awful outside force. Slavers, Ne'er-do-wells spinning nice-looking contracts to use them as social fodder...no. I'd rather that was quite the last resort."
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"If we go disguise as gambler entourage, then I will play part of тенија," Zranashta says as she slips a pair of sleeves over her arms, and her clothing appears to transform into a revealing gown with fine jewelry.
She then puts a fancy, jewel-encrusted vanity collar and leash onto her "pet" dinosaur Spot, who looks completely dejected in his new accoutrement.
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Remmy cleans his whiskers nervously for a moment. I b-b-believe I will buy some new c-c-clothes to better fit in...
He soon enough returns from the garment district, dressed in a tiny white chef's outfit, complete with hat. He smiles at the group.
A man of our leader's r-r-reknown and w-w-wealth must have a f-f-food t-t-taster to p-p-prevent p-p-p-poisoning and to ensure that his food lives up to his exacting s-s-s-s-standards.
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Cuethric has a set of courtier's clothes to go with his mithral shirt, belt of dexterity, cloak of resistance, dagger and longsword. All his conspicuous gear (longbow and arrows) he places in his handy havor sack. He works on his hair and beard trimming them to look respectable.
"I will be the incompetent relative apprentice being shown the ropes."
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Malaz takes in the effort shown by the others. "You all look the parts you plan to play. I feel I am suited to play the guard...or the actual bankroll. It still begs the question, do any of us actually know how to play the game? If not, it will take a glib tongue to gain our entry. Despite my vocabulary, I do not find that is a skill I have. However, my size has proved beneficial on more than a few occasions if we need to hammer home a threat." He turns to Draklor, "I assume you have a silver tongue?"
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Ijo takes some mental notes, Draklor, looks like you're it. I'll stick close to you. Personal assistant, if you will. Everyone has a part to play. At first opportunity Remmy and Cuethric can split off to get food and drink as a ruse to recon. We'll gamble some money away and create an excuse to get to the wine cellar. Here, Draklor. Hold this so we look like we have cash behind us. Ijo hands Draklor 2,000 gold pieces.
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Draklor marvels at the money casually changing hands. "I'll try my best, here's hoping. Reckon I should try looking more human?" Without preamble or noise, the kitsune becomes a redheaded man of similar proportions, then switches back again. "I'd rather not. It feels weird, but if we think it's for the good of the mission...maybe they'd look at my normal as exotic in the Parlor?"
Adorned with carved columns, the Weaver’s Parlor is a majestic wooden building with a soaring, peaked roof. Above the entry is a sign showing a buxom naked woman weaving a long scarf draped around her hips. Small groups of onlookers crowd around the gambling hall’s windows, but three Gendarmes—the city guard of Riddleport—interview all prospective entrants at the door.
You can see anyone that approaches the building to enter is stopped and questioned or given a once over before being allowed in, and those that are let in tend to either have an ere of significant wealth or show some proof of actual wealth.
How do you approach?
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Ijo precedes the party and bows to the guards, Esteemed Gengarmes, allow me to introduce Mr. Ribiera, the Garrulous Gambler. You'll find no greater presence on the table for a laugh and a story. Surely a great compliment to your establishment. Rest assured he is backed by the top investors. Ijo sweeps a hand toward Draklor, setting the stage.
Before you get any further...I think there may have been a slight misunderstanding with my tip so I have quoted it and bolded the few words that may not have been noticed as being perfectly intentionally picked.