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The courier from the Pathfinder Society found each of you in your usual haunts. Whether that's relaxing by the beach in Vudra, hunting big game in the Mwangi, or sitting by the fireplace in that tavern you always seem to end up back at. Whichever it is, they deliver a letter from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin urging you to travel to Druma for your next assignment.
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Having just returned from an expedition to Numeria lead by his fraternal twin, half-sister, the VC Candi Payne, Reznor would be relaxing under a large beach umbrella and composing an epic poem celebrating that adventure.
Reading the letter, Reznor thinks that it's about time the people of Druma hear the good news of the Redeemer Queen's ascension from the Abyss.
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At first glance, Ela looks like a human girl of no more than 12 years. In fact, she is an elf of a many more years but still very young by the life-span of that ancestry.
Her elven ears tend to hide within her long, thick chestnut hair, which invites undesired patronizing from elders and even non-elder adults of other ancestries.
She has a youthful, round face that is constantly projecting a determined expression. She will often glare at something or someone as she concentrates on the subject, trying to figure it out or recall knowledge about it.
While awaiting a briefing, she will often be fiddling with her pistol, deconstructing it and check it's parts for good polish and fluid mechanical action.
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Each of you received a letter delivered by courier from Abrus Valsin. It directs you to proceed to the Silver Spoon Inn in Druma where you will meet up with your fellow agents and collect a packet of intel from the bartender, Kristoff. Then in the guise of agents of Grandmaster Torch, you will pass this intel to Emilio Busca. What could be simpler?
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The Silver Spoon Inn and Tavern is a roadside inn 10 miles west of Kerse that caters to business travelers and tourists. It certainly fits the description given in Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin’s letter. Its black marble bar top and gilded chairs are clearly intended to suggest an atmosphere of wealth and luxury, but the tattered seat cushions and faded wall tapestries betray a general slide into disrepair.
Patrons clad in jewels and fine clothing mill about the room, drinking and gossiping excitedly. A few white-clad individuals stand aloof from the crowds, nibbling at crusts of bread rather than partaking in the exquisite charcuterie boards laid out on polished ebony tables.
A tall, sandy-haired half-orc man with rough but pleasant features stands behind the bar, polishing the marble surface with a white cloth. He wears a simple leather jerkin over a loose canvas shirt and trousers. A brass tankard dangles from a leather strap at his belt. He grins and calls out in greeting: “Well met, travelers! What’ll you be having, then?”
As each of you arrives, it's pretty easy to pick out your fellow Pathfinders amongst the other patrons. Gathering at a table, you're able to make introductions and scan the crowd for the Varisian agent Emilio Busca.
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Back to Druma! I didn't expect to return so soon after Alabastrine! I met more than a few interesting individuals there.
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Young Ela walks through the doors of the Silver Spoon, and likely gets an odd look before replying to the question. Oh, nothing yet good sir, I need to meet up with some people first and then I'm sure we'll make a big order!
Finding the other Pathfinders in short order, she begins to aid the scan for their contact.
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The courier didn't have to travel very far from Ambrus Valsin's office to deliver a message to Angela. Her desk being within shouting distance of his door. She reads over the letter and nods some, mental calculations on what to pack and how best to get to Durma already playing in her head. She stands up from the desk and adjusts her bright red suit jacket and pencil skirt, before checking that her equally vibrant red hair is staying in it's coif. Mopderate height heels clacking, she heads over to the head secretary's desk and hands her the letter claiming, "Seems I'm to audit another mission. This one doesn't sound as fancy as the Blackros wedding, but probably is more important. I'll probably be gone for three weeks, and try sending a message if it looks to take longer. Also, can I get extra copies of the travel expense forms. I'm willing to bet the rest of the party will 'lose' theirs again."
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Arriving at the tavern, Angela still has her hair up in a precise coif and the heels on, but her suit jacket and pencil skirt are both a little older and seen some more wear, tear and repair than her previous ones. She stands up her full 2'10" and strides into the building, somehow giving off the appearance of staring down her nose at everyone, despite being significantly shorter than most people. She spots the young looking elf with the pistol halfway deconstructed and walks up to her table, ordering a small glass of what ever the barkeep recommends on the way. "Ela, I presume? Angela Isafira. It's a pleasure." She steps up into a seat at the table and pulls out some of the documents she'd pulled for the mission, checking them over while surreptitiously checking over the room.
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The messenger reaches Therin at the abbey in Absolom. He quickly prepares his gear and sets out immediately after one last stop to make.
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Good day...I'll have a mug of coffee or tea if you have any. If not, a mug of ale will do. And anything to snack on? i'm a bit peckish after travelling. Thank you. Therin says as before making his way to meet the others. He spots them at a table nearby and smiles at the pair.
Nice to meet you...I'm Therin. First time in Druma? It is for me... he says politely. His gear shows him to be a Sarenite priest, but not one to shy away from getting close to combat.
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Reading the letter, Reznor smiles. He learned to lie and deceive before he could even talk. With a swish, his tail takes the letter from his hand and stuffs it into a pouch on his belt.
Fortunately, he finds his sister’s dad Duke mostly conscious. Reznor picks up some fresh blood-boiling pills from Duke’s lab before the kindly old wizard/alchemist/degenerate teleports Reznor to a spot on the Kerse Road about one mile from the inn. He pops one of the blood-boiling pills, feels the rush of heat go through his body, and sets off toward the Silver Spoon.
Having left the Darklands several years ago, Reznor no longer pays much attention to reactions to his appearance. If folks are taken aback by his pearl black skin, white hair with red streaks, solid red eyes, forked tongue, and flexible prehensile tail, well there’s not much he can do about that. So, he smiles and waves at the travelers he encounters along the road.
Upon entering the inn, Reznor recognizes Angela who helped with all the paperwork after the regrettable exploding bloatmage incident. Reznor walks over to her table, greets her, Ela, and Therin, orders a large glass of the house red, and takes another look around the Silver Spoon’s bar.
EDIT: Reznor's wayfinder is very, very hidden.
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A dark bird lands on the edge of the table. It looks at Angela. "Ah, miss. I recognize you from the lodge. Apologies, but my memory is far from it used to be, stuck in this blasted bird's body." He makes an irritated sound, shaking his feathers out. "Shall I assume this is our retinue for this outing?"
He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice down. "My name is Javon." He nods again to Angela. "Of course you know that. I'm sure there are countless files of my past deeds. I have made quite a name for myself!"
"But now that I'm like this, I find myself struggling a bit. Luckily I have Gerald to help me. Gerald? Now where did he go?" The bird hops around to search the room.
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Just as Ela is exchanging introductions and pleasantries with Angela, Therin, and Reznor, the large bird lands on the table.
At first she reflexively gathers the pistol parts in her arms, scooping them backwards as if the bard might make off with a key part.
Then it starts talking... her face makes the journey from "concerned" to "confused."
Stuck... how did you get stuck in there? What were you before?
She absent-mindedly replies hello to Grax, staring at the bird and awaiting an explanation to this extraordinary claim.
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Angela gives Reznor a friendly nod. "Good to see you again. I did forget to check up with you on that paperwork. It get handled okay? Having a bloatmage explode like that was a surprise."
She tries to dig any details out if the tiefling, curious as to what juic- salacious details he could give them as most had been 'cut from the records.' She doesn't bat an eye at the bird landing on the table, smiling at him and extending a finger for his claws to shake. "Pleasure to meet you properly, Javon. I did pull your records to check over before the mission started and was intrigued to meet the 'Pathfinder Thrush.' Sadly any records prior to your accident are either in a different name or been classified. But the recent ones are pretty amazing."
She folds up the files she has on the table and decides to settle into the conversation fully. Giving the' Pathfinder Thrush's' body guard a nod as he sits down.
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Reznor replies to Angela…
“Not to the crew at the poolside bar. They told him he needed a stronger sunscreen. But he just slathered himself with Vudran Yak Butter, and BOOM!, he took out a whole row of lounge chairs.”
He stops for a sip of wine and continues…
“The documents you got us were great. Now, the survivors can’t sue us, so they’re going after his estate.”
Reznor pauses, glances around the table, and quietly changes the subject…
”Just before coming into the inn here, I remembered there was a bit in the letter about ‘disguising ourselves.’ I'm, of course, a traveling missionary running into old friends from the road. The rest of youse guys got good cover stories and have any ‘faywinders’ well hidden?”
Then a little more loudly so others in the room can hear…
”And thus began the Ascension of the Redeemer Queen!”
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"Classified? Oh yes, that explains everything! Gerald, did you hear that? My previous work has been classified! That must explain why I know things, but others don't seem to recognize me! I was working on highly sensitive missions! And perhaps those records hold the key to knowing what happened to me!" The bird is bobbing and hopping excitedly.
He turns to Ela. "Oh my dear, that's the whole mystery. See, I don't remember what happened. I just woke up one day in this body. I sought out help from many at first without much luck. But Gerald's tribe had a seer who read my aura and then assigned the young man to help me. I have been grooming him ever since as we returned to the Society to seek out any sages or magics that could restore me. Unfortunately, whatever did this to me has played with my other memories too. It's like my head is...is..." He spots a crumb and pounces on it. "Where was I? Oh hello! Like I said, the reports of my previous missions are classified, which make it hard to piece things together."
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The half-orc behind the bar pours two glasses of the house red, one for Angela and one for Reznor, and a beer for Grax. When Therin asks about food he looks meaningfully at the exquisite charcuterie boards and then back at the Sarenite priest. ”I’m thinkin’ our buffet’s a bit too much for your wallet. Not to worry, I’ll bring you some snacks with your tea.”
Looking around the room at the kalistocrats and other local high society folk, none of you notice anyone that might be Varisian or that even remotely matches the description of Emilio Busca.
As the group continues to chat amongst themselves, the barkeep delivers your initial order of drinks and snacks. ”I’m Kristoff,” he says by way of introduction. ”If you’re wanting anything at all, even writing implements or papers,” he offers as he looks at Angela’s neatly arranged expense forms and records, ”let me know.”
He then holds out a box of various teas for Therin to choose from while cheerfully and patiently explaining the differences between them. ”Personally, my favorite is a Jalmerian black chai made with locally sourced goat’s milk and a shot of Thuvian brandy, but if that’s not your thing, I might recommend the Minkai green. Or if you just want simple and familiar, this Taldor breakfast blend is pretty good.”
While Therin and Kristoff discuss the teas, Angela gets the feeling that he has more to tell you. It likely involves “papers” of some sort, she judges from his innuendo. In fact it seems as if he’s waiting for someone to ask just the right question.
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“The documents you got us were great. Now, the survivors can’t sue us, so they’re going after his estate.”
"Glad to hear it, that's what they were intended for. You can trust on me to get an air tight set of documents together... Speaking of which, you DO have a copy of your travel expense forms, right?"
”Just before coming into the inn here, I remembered there was a bit in the letter about ‘disguising ourselves.’ I'm, of course, a traveling missionary running into old friends from the road. The rest of youse guys got good cover stories and have any ‘faywinders’ well hidden?”
Then a little more loudly so others in the room can hear…
”And thus began the Ascension of the Redeemer Queen!”
Angela looks at the hook 3/4s of the way up her ergonomically designed longspear that looks a bit conspicuously empty, and then back at the cleric. "Up, figured that a 'fey finder' wasn't needed in such an urban place as this and have it ferreted away. Actually you wouldn't happen to have a second holy symbol to the Redeemer Queen I could hang there. It would help make a good cover story."
She then plays along with Reznor's words, adding in a louder voice, "OH, Intriguing. Do tell me more, what does she stand for now?"
"Classified? Oh yes, that explains everything! Gerald, did you hear that? My previous work has been classified! That must explain why I know things, but others don't seem to recognize me! I was working on highly sensitive missions! And perhaps those records hold the key to knowing what happened to me!" The bird is bobbing and hopping excitedly.
Angela smiles some at Javon's enthusiasm, but does tr to temper it with, "I can't verify that any records pertaining to you have been classified, or at least with the level of clearance I have now. Maybe if I made 1st class, or head secretary (which is a matter of time I tell you) I'd be able to check, but for right now we have no way of knowing... so don't put too much hope into that line of thought, okay?"
Getting the hint of his words, Angela mentions that there might be more to their server to Reznor, not quite trusting her brash and sometimes tactless way of speaking to handle the subtlety of getting a message across. She does subtlety shuffle a few pages of paper under the current ones she has, and then glance up at the server handing him some coins for the red wine and a tiny piece of paper with a small note on it. "Oh, if you do have some spare papers I could use for scratch paper that would be helpful. I can do the calculations in my head but verifying on paper is so much more helpful, and I completely forgot to bring some myself."
It simply reads, 'Emilio?'
”Well, now, if you want one of those fancy flaming drinks, I'll make an Azer’s Tears for you.”
Perception
When Ela flashes her faywinder at him, he subtly acknowledges it by flashing the Pathfinder hand sign for “Ally” to her.
At Angela’s request for papers, Kristoff replies that he has some in the back, and he’ll be glad to bring them out. He packs up the box of teas, pockets the coins and surreptitious note, and with a last ”Anything else?” to the table, he heads back to the bar.
Kristoff returns a few minutes later with a sealed packet and a large, wide-rimmed glass. He sets the package down in front of Angela, and the drink in front of Reznor. Clearly pleased to be getting to make a drink he doesn’t often get a call for, he snaps his fingers and a magical spark ignites the drink with a small ‘whoosh’ into a multi-hued dance of fire.
Once you’ve all finished appreciating his artistry, Kristoff says, ”You’re colleagues of Emilio, aren’t you?” The way he says it makes it clear that he knows it’s not true, but he’s using it as cover to open the conversation.
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Angela gives a small look up at the barkeep as if asking if this was soemthing she should be opening here or later, before she moves some papers aside and gives a small exclaim. "Oh! I missed this earlier, I do have some scratch paper... but mind if I keep these? I can never have enough paper."
She then nods at his and Ela's comments. "... and I'm here to keep good notes and make sure we don't overspend."
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Reznor savors the sight of the exotic drink and takes a rather large sip while it is still burning.
"Just the thing to celebrate Angela's embrace of the moon in the night sky!"
He pulls out a masterwork consecrated silver dagger that has one holy symbol of Nocticula engraved on its blade and another on its pommel and concentrates on it for a moment. Then he passes it to Angela.
"Practical, spiritual, and charged with the blessed energy of the Redeemer Queen."
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As the bartender returns, Grax looks back and forth between Angela and him. He isn't sure, but he believes something was happening. He turns to Javon, hoping to distract the bird from speaking too much. "Javon, would you like some tea as well? Or a snack perhaps? I have those beetles you like or we could ask for some crusty bread. Perhaps with jam?"
Grax looks up, saying in his rumbling basso, "The chai sounds wonderful. I'll have that."
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"The chai does sound good, but I'm afraid that didn't sit well last time. This blasted bird constitution doesn't seem up for it! Just the green, I suppose, though it always just taste like grass to me. But good grass is quite satisfying! Oh yes, and crusty bread with jam sounds excellent! Good thinking, Gerald! We must keep our energy up for what's ahead! Now, what about those beetles? Where are they?!" Javon continues to yammer about food, forgetting entirely about the critical nature of the discussion.
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Angela takes the charged dagger with reverence, and hangs it on her longspear, before turning around and shaking Reznor's hand with confidence.
Angela hands the cleric a note reading Just in case I wasn't clear earlier, I'm not actually going to convert. I truly admire what the Redeemer Queen done and her ideals, but I doubt few things in my life would sway me from the Abadar, the Father of Bureaucracy. I'll make sure to give Nocticula some offerings every now and then though.
Angela pulls her empty hand away and turns to her glass of wine taking a sip and then turning back to the paperwork on her desk.
Angela notes that the packet she was handed has a wax seal on it bearing Torch's imprint. Even knowing it's a forgery she's unable to spot any flaws in the work.
Kristoff seems quite impressed with how Reznor quaffed the flaming drink as he serves up the round of teas. "Seen him around? Sort of," he answers Ela. "He rented a room for a week, but toward the end of his stay he seemed nervous. Always watching over his shoulder, you might say. Didn’t keep him from coming in for our daily sessions. I don’t know where he got the coin to drink like he did, but Cayden bless him for it."
Kristoff pauses to clean up the table next to yours and returns as soon as he's done.
"He was tight-lipped about his work, but I got the impression he was mixed up in some nasty business. I guess for someone like him that’s just another day, another gold piece. Then three days ago he stopped showing up at the bar. Haven’t seen him since.”
Kristoff wipes his hands on his apron as he lets out a deep sigh.
"No. But it wouldn't matter if he had. If you're looking for him...."
He pauses to signal the other bartender that he'll be a another minute.
"Something happened the other night when I was on my night off. Seems some Kalistocrat had it out for him. Business deal gone bad most likely, or maybe he stole something from her. I don't know, and honestly don't care. But either way, a troupe of Blackjackets busted in here and dragged him away."
Kristoff pauses to look around at the other patrons, particularly the small knot of white-robed Kalistocrats at the back of the room. He leans down closer to the table before continuing.
"I don’t have confirmation, but some of my regulars say they saw Amynta Irel’s insignia on the abductors’ uniforms.”
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As the group is discussing, in walks a a nagaji who looks better suited to be performing in the streets.
Dressed in well travelled clothes with backpack slung over, a 3-jointed stick of some sort hung over his back, just over his shoulder with a longbow of Tien make slung over the other side. His clothes are widely cut to allow freedom of movements and it also exposes his rather broad chest. His faded reddish scales lines his muscled arms and his whole demeanor speaks of one skilled in the unarmed arts.
He smiles as he looks at the group, brandishing the common contact he too had received.
"Apalah Blackfang, Dancer of flames at your service. Courier of papers." he says nothing more from that understanding that at this moment he's already in disguise and all he had to do was link up with his contacts.
Within a few moments, he had his answers to some of the questions that had being asked.
"It seems that I do not know this insignia and what it signifies. Could you perhaps enlighten us?" he asks.
"I could also do with a drink if it helps to keep you with us longer. A light one to wash away the travel dust."
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Angela looks over the seal on the papers with not a small amount of admiration. Someone took their time to make this look real.
She starts to tuck away the papers to look over in a less public space when the idea of her filing paperwork in the midnight moon flashes through her head. She gives a deep shudder, the mistakes Tha could be made by misreading things, the eyestrain, the time waste, the horrifying inefficiency.
Still shaken by the image, Angela switches tot he topics being talked about, hoping to find a better thing to think about. She pauses a moment to see if she's read anything about this 'Amynta Irel'.
She waits to see what the bartender mentions to the rest of the group.
Kristoff points a finger at the other bartender and whispers something. In short order, the elf arrives with a single drink, serves it to Apalah and returns to the bar. At this point in your Pathfinder careers, you're all readily familiar with this simple messaging cantrip.
Minkiaiin whiskey," Kristoff informs the nagaji. "Seems like your kind of drink. But to answer your question about Ms. Irel, her type doesn’t come around my place much, but I know she’s pretty high up in the social order. She has an estate not far from here, out in the country. She likes her privacy. A lot." he concludes somberly.
At the sound of irate voices from the bar, Kristoff suggests that you talk to the regular customers who may have witnessed the abduction and takes his leave.
GATHER INFORMATION (Diplomacy) OR KNOWLEDGE (Nobility)
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Ela heads in the opposite direction from the observed Kalistocrats to go ask questions of other patrons. As soon as she reaches the first table, she bumps into it so hard that all of the drinks spills onto the table.
Apologizing profusely, she grabs towels from the bar and sheepishly sends them another round.
Looking up, she realizes that all of the nearby tables snickered and watched her through all of this. Asking them questions suddenly seems futile... she returns to the team's table, dejected.
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As the others discuss the events with other customers, Javon confirms some of what Apalah found. "The other Kalistocrats might not agree with her kidnapping Emilio, but I doubt they will take any action against her too. Likely they'll just stay silent on the matter. The mostly obvious place for her to be is at her estate 15 miles west of here. If she's not afraid of reprisal, she might have Emilio there too."
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Slightly tipsy from using her own drinking as a cover for her intentions of drawing information out of the other Kalistocrats around the bar, Angela walks back over to the table. "Well, have I got some gossip or what?"
She takes a seat and looks around for a second, realizes there's no water here. She gets up goes to the bar and asks for some water if it's safe or honey mead if it ain't, and wanders back to the table. A glass of water or mead later, she looks everyone over. "Right, so Emiulia, sweet and moneyed which is a bad combination, and her betrothed, Farkyl, though given how I had to 'accidentally' bat his hands away twice I do doubt how much longer that relationship will last, over there saw the whole thing. They were coming here with another couple, Tyrlon and Yuwla, who are apparently getting married next week, exciting, hope their relationship is a bit more stable than theirs... Uh anyways they were coming here to have a drink to celebrate finalizing wedding plans and they saw the whole thing. Emilio getting 'arrested' though they seemed to laugh at the word outside the Silver Spoon Inn and Tavern..." She pauses her banter realizing that everyone seems to be disinterested in what she's saying. "Wait you have heard all this already, have you? Dang... Uhhh, well did you know that Tyrlon's grandfather was also Amynta's grandfather and she's going to their wedding? He also occasionally visits the Irel estate and told Emiulia that it's heavily guarded with magical traps, Blackjackets and deadly beasts!"
She pauses to build the suspense and takes another sip of water. "Seems that Tyrlon's also paid a visit recently. Apparently he asked Amynta about why she took Emilio. Seems our intrepid contact renegaded on a deal with the woman and she became obsessed with getting him to pay up. He doesn't have enough money, but Amynta's supposedly has a plan to use the varisian's blood ties to a historical site to leverage something from it. She was apparently very vague about what.... but did brag about how she hired an Osirianologist to make constructs to defend her stuff."
She takes another drink, seemingly happy to have people actually listening closely to what she's saying for once. "But the best news was that it seems the woman is out of town on business right now, with a good portion of her guard, meaning the estate is much less guarded right now."
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Having gotten your package of intel, and all the intel you can gather about Amynta Irel, you decide to make your way out to the vineyard. Farkyl, Angela's new handsy "friend" stops her on the way out of the bar. He invites her to the wedding, though it's not clear if Emiulia approved that. He mentions to Angela that they're getting the wines from Ms. Irel's winery, and that if she sees Amynta here in town today to say hello. He also lets slip that she won't be in town very long....
Amynta Irel’s rural estate nestles within a hillside vineyard. It’s not hard to find a spot in the hills and along the road to get a slightly elevated view of the estate. Taking a minute to “case the joint” as it were, you observe a variety of security features.
The first and most obvious thing you note is the 10 foot tall stone wall that surrounds the manor grounds, all interiior buildings, and a huge hedge maze behind the manor. The hedge maze covers several acres, and although you can see it from your vantage, you can’t see enough detail to plan a route through it from here.
You also note that two guards dressed in traditional Blackjacket uniforms are always stationed at the front gate and that additional groups of two or three guards patrol the grounds at half hour intervals. The guards studiously avoid the hedge maze even though it leads directly to the rear of the manor.
Servants frequently come and go, typically through the front door. Though the same servant or guard is rarely seen twice, there is one middle-aged tiefling woman who appears frequently, typically giving instructions to other servants or signing for deliveries.
The PCs have several different approaches to choose from when it comes to breaking into the estate. There is a back door which appears to be unguarded, but it can only be accessed by traversing the hedge maze behind the estate. The front gate is well guarded, and PCs who take this route may choose to fight or trick the guards to gain entry. Some possibilities include posing as Irel’s guests, prospective employees, or visitors interested in a tour of the grounds.
Encourage the PCs to consider their options, but remind them that Amynta Irel could return home at any time, so getting bogged down in the details of planning may detract from completing the actual mission.