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An attractive Tian-Min woman armored in a suit of red haramaki armor over a red yukata, with a paired daisho at her right hip arrives and looks around. Possessed of pale blue eyes and wearing her platinum hair in a chin-length layered bob, Kiyoko has the toned, athletic body of someone raised in the martial arts. A distinctive beauty mark is visible to the right of her chin.
Deciding that she is in the right place, she moves to stand off to the side.
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Avi tosses and turns, his sleep disturbed by dark dreams of shooting stars and comets streaking through the cosmos. What makes dreams of such things dark as that they all begin to converge on Golarion, and the Inner Sea region. He thinks of the Starstone Cathedral and how it's about to be made irrelevant by many more visitors. Suddenly he's in Absalom, tasked with rushing around and warning everyone about the impending disaster, but it seems nobody will listen. They don't believe him. Just then the fiery rocks pierce the blue sky and make themselves apparent, and in an imperceptible short period of time later Absalom is enveloped in flame and carnage.
Just then Avi wakes up in a cold sweat by a knock at the door. He takes a moment to blink awake and confirm that everything around him is not, in fact, on fire. It's a courier with a letter for him and it's seems there's a new mission.
Later on...
A plain, but seemingly gruff man appears. When he greets you though, he seems friendlier and more soft-spoken than you expected. He seems visibly tired as if he had a late night or didn't sleep well.
He nods slightly to the Tian woman. Greetings. I'm guessing you're the muscle? Names' Avi.
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Near the door is the sound of something heavy moving towards it. The slow plodding is accompanied by the rhythmic scrap of metal plates on metal and the clink of a steel container with every other step.
Eventually, a hulking mass stoops down and steps through the door. Towering before you is a man with at least one Troll in his family tree. His head, bearing the weight of a horned helm, slowly turns to take in the room. "Thundering Bull," is all he says before lumbering to the table, putting a bucket on it, and sitting down on the floor. Greasy, gauntleted fingers pull out a whole chicken, methodically disassembling it and placing hunks of fried meat into his mouth.
After one bird is gone, and before retrieving another, he raises an axe from his hip. Borderline undersized for someone of such stature, it would look more like a toy than an instrument of war if it weren't for the glint of a razor sharp edge on the black metal head. "Axe," he declares before resuming his feast.
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From afar the group spies a cart rattling to halt near the meeting place. A uniformed driver, and two large men hop off. The laborers drag a large, wood crate, the sort you might store a few dozen spears in, from the back with a smaller crate balanced atop. With the driver in the lead the the two big men navigate their way to the meeting spot and set it off to one side.
The uniformed driver steps forward and produces a clipboard with a receipt, and pre-inked quill to sign with.
He squints down over his impressive mustache at the receipt, and says in a self-important tone: "Are you the 'Patefinder Society'?"
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Ahh...good. I thought I was late. Blessing of the Dawnflower to you all. I am Goran...delighted to meet you all. a man of Taldan stock says as he enters the lodge, nodding in greeting to the gathered agents. He wears his goddess' symbol on his armour and around his neck. And to the discerning eye, on his chest as well in the form of an intricate tattoo on his chest in wayang style peeking out from his shirt. He wanders over to the table and sits across from Thundering Bull. I knew I should have had a bigger breakfast... he says getting out a chunk of bread and some nuts to nibble on.
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The little halfling waves at the mustache, rather the man with the mustache. ”Yes, we are in the Society,” she called out. Perrine was wearing a holy symbol of Desna and carried a starknife.
After signing the document, she entered the briefing room and meekly took a seat. She found some salty nuts, a crispy apple, and poured herself a small glass of mead. ”Hi everyone! I’m Perrine! Nice to meetcha!”
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Ahh...good. I thought I was late. Blessing of the Dawnflower to you all. I am Goran...delighted to meet you all. a man of Taldan stock says as he enters the lodge, nodding in greeting to the gathered agents. He wears his goddess' symbol on his armour and around his neck. And to the discerning eye, on his chest as well in the form of an intricate tattoo on his chest in wayang style peeking out from his shirt. He wanders over to the table and sits across from Thundering Bull. I knew I should have had a bigger breakfast... he says getting out a chunk of bread and some nuts to nibble on.
"Yes, breakfast would be nice but you see me and the boys need to get this lot signed for before we knock off so if you don't mind...." says the man leadingly.
The little halfling waves at the mustache, rather the man with the mustache. ”Yes, we are in the Society,” she called out. Perrine was wearing a holy symbol of Desna and carried a starknife.
After signing the document, she entered the briefing room and meekly took a seat. She found some salty nuts, a crispy apple, and poured herself a small glass of mead. ”Hi everyone! I’m Perrine! Nice to meetcha!”
"And here... and one more time here. Nice to meet you too. here's your copy." The messenger holds out a hand with a heavy, human-sized crowbar to Perrine. "This comes with your packages. Good day." With that, and a tip of the helm the deliverymen leave.
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Thundering Bull appraises both Goran's and Perrine's meals. After a solid minute of him watching you eat and visually inspecting the food from his seat, he grunts with disapproval.
Wrenching the wings off of the carcass, he puts them on the table in front of Perrine. His massive fingers push them together, creating a crude sort of butterfly. Rummaging through his bucket, you hear the crinkling of parchment paper and a loaf of bread appears. Pulling a chunk off of the bottom, he sets it down for Goran and points at a small clump of flour. Chuckling to himself, he resumes eating as they wait. Ha, ha. Good joke. Funny.
When the deliveryman tries to hand a crowbar to Perrine, Thundering Bull rises and motions to take it. Assuming she doesn't object, he gets to work dismantling the crates with one hand, chowing down on the rest of the loaf with the other.
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Later on...
A plain, but seemingly gruff man appears. When he greets you though, he seems friendlier and more soft-spoken than you expected. He seems visibly tired as if he had a late night or didn't sleep well.
He nods slightly to the Tian woman. Greetings. I'm guessing you're the muscle? Names' Avi.
The Tian-Min samurai nods to Avi, once. "Kiyoko," she says simply. As others arrive, she remains silent.
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Thundering Bull appraises both Goran's and Perrine's meals. After a solid minute of him watching you eat and visually inspecting the food from his seat, he grunts with disapproval.
Wrenching the wings off of the carcass, he puts them on the table in front of Perrine. His massive fingers push them together, creating a crude sort of butterfly. Rummaging through his bucket, you hear the crinkling of parchment paper and a loaf of bread appears. Pulling a chunk off of the bottom, he sets it down for Goran and points at a small clump of flour. Chuckling to himself, he resumes eating as they wait. Ha, ha. Good joke. Funny.
When the deliveryman tries to hand a crowbar to Perrine, Thundering Bull rises and motions to take it. Assuming she doesn't object, he gets to work dismantling the crates with one hand, chowing down on the rest of the loaf with the other.
The large crate opens with a creak. It is packed with curly wood shavings under which Thundering Bull finds the hideously mutilated, pale corpse of a man dressed in a threadbare black frock and black trousers. Stitched scars crisscross his head, and hands. The man's wild, odd-sized eyes (set at different levels upon his face above a gruesome death rictus) gawk up at the big man with a blind, glassy stare....
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As more of the team piles in, Avi takes notice of a trend. Particularly when Thundering Bull and Adelbert appear, he remarks Oh... it appears they ordered a lot of muscle for this mission.
He looks around at each, and introduces himself again. Good to meet you all. I'm Avi. I'll be the one standing back behind your line slinging arcane nonsense.
He takes a strong whiff of the air around him and then glances at the odd "corpse" emerging from the crate.
No... no I don't smell any chicken. Are you sure it wasn't there in that box with you?
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"Why in the box?" Thundering Bull asks, incredibly puzzled. Mangling the chicken further, he offers a leg to the not-quite-a-corpse-in-a-box.
When Avi claims to not smell any chicken, his head snaps to his direction and scowls as fiercely as he can. "Make chicken!" he starts, prodding his own chest. "Chicken smell good. Chicken taste good. Take much time! Get nose checked." Now that he's started talking, you can hear that his Common is accented by Shoanti.
Thankfully, Goran seems to understand the value of good chicken. "Cheers!" he says back, pulling out a water skin.
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"Why in the box?" Thundering Bull asks, incredibly puzzled. Mangling the chicken further, he offers a leg to the not-quite-a-corpse-in-a-box.
"It wath the motht ekthpedient way back from Thothith." sprays the strange little man dusting off the sand, and wood chips. "I am Igor. Tho glad to meet you."
Holding a conversation with Igor is like speaking into a warm, light drizzle.
Igor looks at the fried chicken in his hands sadly, and murmurs. "It'th too bad you cooked it. I could have uthed thith leg for thrapth...."
He places gently it in one of his voluminous pockets.
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"Uh, excuse me, we have this room reserved. We're planning Janira Gavix's birthday party?" a white-furred, pink-eyed ratfolk says at the conference room's doorway. She enters with a small entourage, mostly gnome and halfling Pathinders. "There's a letter here from Ambrus Valsin. None of you guys saw it? Okay, good luck with this whole Pathfinder thing. Ambrus is currently meeting with Bjersig Torrsen, so I don't think he's going to brief you in person."
If the party wants to do some preliminary research, please give a knowledge (history), knowledge (arcana), knowledge (engineering), or a Diplomacy/knowledge (local) check.
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”The most recent occupants of any notoriety is a group of bandits called the Blood Red Raiders. Honestly they are pretty small time but they do use numbers in their favor!”
"Tithe accountantth then." Igor says nodding knowingly. He pulls a heavy, iron-shod, spiky bludgeon from his crate, and dusts it off.
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"Ok," Thundering Bull says, as it is clear the time for feasting is over. "We go to Redoubt now?"
Standing up to his full height, he tries really hard not to step on any members of the pint-sized invasion as he shuffles out of the room. He pokes his large head back into the door. "Save slice for me?"
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"I have jutht the thing!"
Igor cracks open the smaller box. What he reveals is almost too much for a full stomach and sane mind to contemplate. Buried within the wood-chips is a ragged, stitched, gnome-sized doll of some sort. It seems to be a crudely sewn together pastiche of every creature ever put in a bestiary, a sort of collected crib note of all fauna-kind. If ever you needed a remembrance of some mammal, insect, crustacean, reptile, or cephalopod you need only look at this thing for a hint.
It moves.
"Thith ith Thrapth."
Scraps climbs from the box moving like an ambulatory sandbag. The thing looks around it's long canine face with with and over abundance of saggy skin give it a look of abject depression.
"Go ahead boy. Thhake."
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During my wandering today, I heard much the same as the rest of you. But a little birdie...actually a gnome bard told me about a young man with odd tattoos. Supposedly a student kicked out of the Clockwork Citadel. He's running with the Blood-Red Raiders. Mind you, this was from a gnome bard...so...the veracity might be a bit off...
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"Thrapth great at finding trapth." says Igor proudly. "Why, whenever I expect danger, I jutht thend him in ahead of me and he findth it all."
Scraps subsides a bit more--potentially at the memories.
During my wandering today, I heard much the same as the rest of you. But a little birdie...actually a gnome bard told me about a young man with odd tattoos. Supposedly a student kicked out of the Clockwork Citadel. He's running with the Blood-Red Raiders. Mind you, this was from a gnome bard...so...the veracity might be a bit off...
"'Clockwork'? I never work with the thtuff. There'th no heart in it. My couthin, Igor, though lived in a bell tower, and wath into it pretty deep back in the day."
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Thundering Bull squats down as low as he can, resting his hands upon massive knees. Tilting his head to get a better look, he peer at Scraps. "What is Thcrapth?" he asks slowly, thoughtfully. The gears in his mind churn as he tries to make sense of the piecemeal creature. He comes up with nothing.
"I make Blood-Red Raiders bleed red," he promises. "And make Clockwork clock broken! But keep Thcrapth safe." He offers a finger to the tiny fellow in peace. "Like chicken too?"
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Between the time it takes to gather information and any last minute buying trips, the sun hangs overhead directly when the group finally catches sight of the Red Redoubt. Deep red metal walls, broken, but untouched by rust even a millenium after their construction, form a barrier in the cloudless sky. The Red Redoubt was not named sarcastically.
Refuse, and old campfire rings, mark the Red Redoubt as a haven for scavengers and vagabonds. There is a marked path through the siege castle that leads to a large central chamber. The chamber contains a central shaft pressed into the metallic floors. The edges of the shaft are smooth and uniform, a testament to superb craftsmanship. A rope ladder descends into the pit...
The rope ladder makes it easy enough that even the least coordinated and athletic can get down without an issue. The entrance shaft opens into the center of a red steel chamber. The floor beneath the shaft is at a slight angle; it seems to have originally been a circular platform that fit flush with the rest of the room but at some point unevenly sank a foot or so. The floors around the room’s perimeter are solid and even, with a textured surface to give better footing on the smooth metal. The walls are riveted metal plates, fallen or torn off in places to reveal solid rock behind. Recessed slabs of metal with adjacent panels, presumably exits, are centered on each wall. The northern panel glows dimly, illuminating scorch marks and glistening red stains around it. Four of the presumed exits have a triangle with three red dots in them.
The red stains are still wet to the touch.
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Kiyoko nods to Perrine, resting her hand lightly on the hilt of her katana. She removes her wayfinder from a pocket inside the obi holding her yukata together and speaks a command word. The wayfinder lights up, and she holds it aloft like a torch as she advances toward the nearest exit without a warning glyph on them.
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This place is fascinating. I've not seen so much steel in one place that wasn't just plate armor and blades. Avi remarks.
He listens and nods to Perrine, remembering their warning.
Right, then I suppose we simply pick any of the other doors. Unless you have a sense about which one.
Four of the presumed exits have a triangle with three red dots in them.
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Thundering Bull waits for the "all clear" before leading the way into the next area. While he waits, he tries cutting some of the metal with his battleaxe.
"Why red sticky?" he asks, eventually smearing one of the symbols with a hand. "Is blood? Paint?" He smells his gauntleted hand before licking it.
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