|
The adventure begins in the Taldan capital city of Oppara, where you each have recently arrived at Venture-Captain Muesello’s lodge.
The lodge has the appearance of a simple bait and tackle shop, and Muesello has one of his assistants handling the front counter — the store remains open due to the increased profits from the festivities surrounding the Grand Day of Exaltation. As you arrive, as Matrialda has just done, you will convene in a room that’s half meeting room and half tackle storage in the rear of the building.
|
Evermore is a very strange gnome, to say the least. Those who know him personally, see him talking to himself out loud quite often, and is known to be scared of almost everything. But when threatened, a darker side of him is revealed. A side to him that is not truly him. His dark half is malicious, but he tries his best to keep it in check. They say that he once stared into the abyss of the blackest star, and something spoke back to him.
The gnome enters the meeting room, obviously shy and uncomfortable, his eyes dart back and forth scanning the space. "Good, no one is here yet. I wonder what sorts of new friends we'll meet this time." He quickly jumps around the room, from candle to candle, extinguishing it. Alone, in the dark interior, he smiles, and sits on the comfortable couch."No, shush! We have to make a good impression this time. We have to make the others like us." A gnome, is always a gnome, and Evermore sits back waiting, with an eager smile on his face for the others to come. Alone. In the darkness.
|
|
An older woman stands in the middle of the room, pulling her hand-knit shawl tightly around herself. "Is anyone there?" she calls tentatively. "Anyone?"
As the little gnome see's the older woman in the middle of the room, he quickly darts behind a one of the fancy couches, "Are...are you a gh...ghost? Hello, my name is Evemore, I promise you I mean you no harm." He tries to make himself look smaller than her already is, which doesn't help much for his figure.
|
|
The old woman turns and smiles gratefully at the couch. "Oh, thank heave- Wait, is someone there?" She frowns and studies the upholstery for a few seconds. "I would have sworn I heard something..." she mutters to herself before straightening her skirts and reaching for a crocheted purse made of black and white yarn. "I don't suppose whoever is hiding in here would like a cookie, would they?"
|
Three of thumps, like a giant knocking on a castle gate, sound through the room and a chill breeze swirls around. A slim, almost emaciated, kitsune steps into the room, her hands black and shriveled.
Greetings companions. I am Cassandra. May fortune smile upon you.
She gives an especially toothy smile.
Anyone who approaches Cassandra hears faint, indistinct whispers.
|
|
"I don't suppose whoever is hiding in here would like a cookie, would they?"
The very hungry Evermore peeks his head from behind the furniture, this time speaking up just slightly, "A cookie! So you're not a ghost?" He steps forward, you can see curiosity in his eyes, "Can i really have one...?"
Just as Cassandra steps into the room and announces herself, Evermore freaks out and jumps back behind the couch, "Eeeep! Another ghost!" quickly scuttling so that no one can see him. "I really hope this other ghost doesn't eat us...we wont let her."
|
A lithe, confident woman with a rapier at her belt slips into the room, throwing off a large cloak which had covered her from head-to-toe, "Well, hello everyone. Mvyvanwe Jadrine Keostella Hetherington, at your service." She smiles, "Although, nobody has called me that for a while. My friends in the Society know me as Mivvy."
She goes about the room, shaking everyone's hand .
Then the young woman looks around the room, "Not the return to Oppara that I was envisioning. I've never had the patience for fishing."
|
|
A tengu in clothing that would be more appropriate for an admiral attending a ball than a pathfinder attending a briefing, including a tricorner hat with an enormous, colorful plume and a much smaller gray one comes into the room just as cookies are being handed out.
With a shocking deftness, he weaves through people, furniture and tackle to swoop down on the elderly lady. He grabs one of the cookies and shoves it in his mouth, speaking to her while it's still there before swallowing it.
"Grandmama!" he exclaims with all the glee of a toddler saying the same thing and gives her a hug, the top of his head coming up no higher than her nose.
He gulps down the cookie and looks around at the room and people, obviously quite content and pleased.
|
|
Venture-Captain Muesello enters the back-room and straddles a turned-around wooden chair, resting his arms atop the back. He looks around with a wide smile on his face, nodding with satisfaction at the group assembled before him.
“Good, good. You all made it through the crowds gathered for the Grand Day of Exaltation. Be sure to keep a hand on your coin purses during these festivities; there’s an abundance of pickpockets out there. All the big nobility is at the senate building, including our own Lady Morilla. That’s where the exaltation ceremony is set to take place: the grand prince is going to elevate a commoner into the ranks of the nobility. It’s all real charming, not to mention a great boon for business. Heck, that’s why I’m keeping the shop open even while we meet!”
Muesello lets out a raucous laugh before continuing. “All right, while all the nobles are enjoying their fancy party, it’s up to you to do some important work for Lady Morilla. The Society’s recent accomplishments in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings have gained us support from a member of the Ulfen Guard: a man by the name of Bjarte Trolltooth. Now, it seems that Bjarte wanted to talk to the Society abo—”
Muesello’s overview is suddenly interrupted by the forceful slamming of the tackle shop’s front door. A bellowing string of foreign words resonates through the shop, followed by tramping footsteps.
Muesello begins to stand when he hears the shopkeeper utter warnings to the unseen visitor about the back room being off-limits.
|
Um, am I in the right place?
Is a voice heard from a small a young gnome poking his head into the office from outside the room.
He is casually dressed, in clothes that do not seem to fit, and maybe have been slept in more than once too often. His hair is badly in need of a comb, but he seems oblivious to his appearance while his eyes dart back and forth from his strange green cat, to the sky and back. His mind is definitely not focused on the here and now, as he smiles caught in his own thoughts.
I am usually late, no matter how hard I try. Sometimes I think they give me the wrong address on purpose....but why would they do that?
Whiskers, we are here. And now I am sure others are eager to hear our stories as I am to hear theirs.
|
|
Realising that this group of adventurers are going on the same mission as him, Evermore steps from behind his hiding spot, and accepts the cookie from madame Matrialda. "Thank you." he says softly.
He listens carefully to the venture captain, nodding all the way, but then when the he hears other language, he quickly jots back behind the furniture and casts comprehend languages on himself.
|
|
When the ruckus starts outside, Kahwen draws his sword from where it is strapped across his back. Despite the fact that the weapon is almost as long as he is tall, he handles it with a deftness that keeps it well clear of everyone currently in the room.
He cocks his head to the side as Wembly enters the room, obviously confused. "I thought you would be bigger...because of the voice..." he says, plainly conflating two unrelated events.
|
|
"Off limits? What of that little gnome?!?"
With the door to the back room conveniently swung open by the small summoner, Wembly is knocked partially off his feet by the awkward and hurried stagger of the man who enters.
A bear of an Ulfen man stands in the open doorway, silhouetted by the sunshine from the storefront. A greataxe is strapped along his back, and animal furs cover a set of tanned hide armor. He looks around the back room, a sense of barely restrained fury in his eyes.
In coarsely accented Common the man bellows, “Where is the fancy woman who calls herself Morilla? I, Bjarte Trolltooth of the Ulfen Guard, made an oath to her, and now I uphold that vow. By the gods, this is a dark time. The Grand Prince will soon mete out a bloody culling of the senate. I am honor-bound not to interfere, but I can warn those who might be able to stop it.”
The Ulfen Guard’s brusque arrival comes as a shock to Muesello, who stands mouth agape. His lack of comment gives you a chance to respond first.
|
|
Wembly extracts himself from the coat rack behind the suddenly opened door.
”Wow. What an entrance! This sounds like a great opportunity for our team. Hey, we have another gnome? Awesome! I did not even see you back there. I am Wembly. Or did I already say that? To be honest I am not remembering much of the last few moments.“ he rubs his head.
”I am sure we can get to the bottom of this and stop it. Or start it or whatever is needed. Your warning is well heeded. I wish I had as much before the door hit me. I am Wembly. Now I am sure I said that already. But hey two gnomes! “
|
|
Kahwen spares a glance at Muesello before focusing on the Ulfen. Or, more accurately on that giant axe and the muscles necessary and apparent to wield it.
He relaxes somewhat when the man comes not to start trouble, but stop it.
"Tell us more, Mr. Trolltooth. How do you know this is going to happen? How and when is it going to happen? We are glad to stop any murder or mischief but we must know more about it," he says.
|
|
"Two gnomes are better than one!" Evemore says excitedly, but quickly goes back to being timid and he whispers, "Maybe a culling of the senate is a good thing ...Shhhh! Remember we are here to help these people not to ... devour them ... No, we are not doing that!"
The old gnome walks out, and tugs at Madame Myvanwie's dress, "Um, miss. I am here to help, you and your father."
|
|
Absolutely they are! Wembly smiles at Evermore before nodding at Kahwen's line of questioning.
Right! Like if we totally know the day and time it is supposed to happen that takes much of the guesswork out of when we need to plan our stopping of events before they start.
Well I guess some different events will still happen. Its not like we will stop time or anything. Although I had heard that it can be done by powerful wizards.
Anyway, we just want to stop the specific event, so that should be much easier. Do I smell cookies? We will definitely help you and your father.
|
|
Bjarte enters the room and nods quickly at Wembly lieu of an apology. "With a heavy heart I must tell you that the Grand Prince intends to attack the senate during the exaltation ceremony, and he has seeded numerous allies within the gathering to help enact his purge! He intends to stop his daughter’s attempts to claim the throne. He sees the senate as monstrous and bloated, and he intends to cull the herd. Even if he were right, his methods are madness. He brings in foreigners to kill his citizens and seeks to end his own bloodline to hold onto power. It is… disgraceful.”
Muesello speaks up. "I had intended to seek your help, Bjarte. But you have come here first with this grave news. We must prevent this massacre. But how? These agents I have assembled are well trained and you are formidable, is that enough?"
Bjarte sighs. “I am but a killer of warriors. I am not a diplomat or a spy. The Lion Blades know how to walk these paths better than I. We would not make it up the hundred steps to the senate before being stopped. Even witch magic to bring us within the building would only cast us as assassins or traitors. No... the Lion Blades must be convinced of Stavian’s madness.”
Muesello nods. "Aye. The Lion Blades are the only organization capable of opposing this sort of treachery without also instigating an international uproar." He turns to face your group. "Do not think I doubt your skills, my friends, but attempting to barge into the exaltation event without solid proof would only make you targets, likely before you could deliver a proper warning to those in danger. Yes... go with Bjarte and stop Stavian’s plan by any means necessary."
Bjarte Trolltooth turns to you as well. I have served long days for the Grand Prince, the Lion Blades will surely give me audience. Come, we must hurry to the Kitharodian Academy."
|
|
Wembly considers what he knows on by the topic. Which generally is not much.
” I do remember talking to a Skald once. Omar something from down south. But he was up on the jarls or witch blood or something. Nice chap but totally drinks too much...for my liking. Fine for others though. As long as they are not driving an ox cart or juggling knives. But I digress. “
|
|
Matrialda frowns at the large brute, but eventually relents. "You're quite right, young man - we must hurry." As she rushes to keep up with him, she digs into her purse once more. "Cookie?"
"It's really quite disgraceful, you know," Matrialda "observes" out loud to Mivvy as they follow Bjarte. "They're just voting on who gets to sit on the throne after Stavian dies - he's not going to be immediately deposed if the vote on abolishing that ridiculous primogeniture nonsense passes. And imagine if that poor fellow from Breezy Creek gets murdered in the chaos! What would his poor parents think after destituting themselves to provide for him and pay for the ridiculous fashions here?" She shakes her head disapprovingly and hurries onward.
|
|
They're saying Earl Calhadion Vernisant is in charge of security. He's been in town for the last two months working to make sure everything is in order. More interesting, though, is the lady from Cheliax. A representative of the Deckland family, she's already built quite the reputation both for her fencing and her spell work. Like most Chelaxian nobles she is a devotee of Asmodeus.
|
|
Yep, that's mostly the same as I heard...well maybe I missed the last part. I don't always have the best memory. Even when I am not getting hit with doors.
Wembly smiles weakly.
So is this Earl or Lady an acquaintance of the Lion Blades? Just asking, because, I do not know if they would talk with us or if we should be watching them.
|
|
"This treachery cannot stand!" Kahwen declares and was ready to storm the senate, striking down anyone who was making trouble. It was only the wise words of the others that made him realize that he would at least look like he was making trouble.
"To the Lion Blades!" he then declares before the group starts asking around town for more details.
He is clearly impatient throughout, pacing and wandering off as they chatted with the locals.
"To the Lion Blades!" he declares again when they eventually set out for the academy.
|
|
After searching out for more information , Bjarte escorts you to the Kitharodian Academy. The Kitharodian Academy sits atop the northern cliffs of Oppara and has an impressive view of the Porthmos River valley. The school boasts architecture as lovely as its music, and elegant domes, towers, and columns adorn the principle music hall. This bard college is the largest in the city, and ranks among the largest on Golarion. Although this grand academy allows all souls that wishes to enroll the chance to prove themselves, students must adhere to a code of education and rigorous self discipline.
While the above is publicly known, the true secret of the academy is known to very few. Many of the faculty are members of the Lion Blades. The academy itself serves as a recruiting ground for the nation’s clandestine spies, and those who leave the school for this purpose feign having washed out as performers so that they can better fade from the public eye. The Ulfen has enough clout to arrange an audience, though you must endure waiting for about 15 minutes in a reception area as arrangements are made. Following this, several junior students escort your group into an underground section of the academy known as the Library of the Lion. The escorts take the party into the administrator’s room, where you must wait several minutes more before someone comes to speak with you.
Two rows of tall bookshelves flank the imposing yet beautiful wooden desk that presides over this room. Over the door hangs a portrait of Grand Prince Stavian III wearing an especially smug grin. A brass plaque on the frame of the portrait reads, “A cunning lie is never told twice.”
After a few minutes of waiting, an older Taldan woman enters the room. She seemingly ignores you as she moves to sit at the chair behind the desk and addresses Bjarte directly. "You have something of import to tell me?"
Seemingly tongue-tied in her presence, Bjarte looks at you to explain.
|
|
Kahwen is relieved when they get underway.
He's equally disappointed when they have to wait, again. He paces up and down the shelves of books, randomly taking one down, flipping through a few pages without reading it, then putting it back where he got it before moving on to another one.
"Yes! As my companions have said, there is a bloody assassination plot afoot! We need your help in stymying it!" he declares once the others have spoken.
|
|
With the ice broken, Bjarte steps forward. "I admit - I’ve pledged myself to the grand prince, but I’m also a man with principles. What Stavian intends to do is vile. It must be stopped, even if the axe that falls is not my own. Many of my fellow Ulfen Guards are opposed to this, but the grand prince has been selective in deciding which of us will join him at the ceremony and which were left behind to defend the palace. Those with him will not take a stand against this madness. The Lion Blades are our only hope.”
Once he is finished, the woman nods to all assembled. "Your news falls upon not only sympathetic ears, but alert ones as well. The Lion Blades have already heard these rumors of foreign interference, but we found it hard to believe such a widespread conspiracy could have gone undetected by our eyes and ears. We can not act upon such a great treachery without equivalent evidence of its existence. Your words are but a start. This organization demands more before we can rightfully implicate Stavian."
She narrows her gaze on each of you in turn and drags a map onto the table.
"By your appearance and demeanor, you look like you come prepared to aid our country in this time of peril. I have then - an offer. The Lion Blades have identified that one of Stavian’s closest allies, the nobleman Calhadion Vernisant, has been receiving regular guests at his Opparan villa. The guests are most often not members of the Taldan nobility, and many are foreign dignitaries or local visitors for the Grand Day of Exaltation. With Calhadion busy with the exaltation events, I would like your group to visit Calhadion’s villa and seek out any trace of illicit or treacherous negotiations with foreign powers—such evidence would be sufficient to bring the Lion Blades into the fray. Succeed in bringing this information back to me, and I can then officially muster a contingent of Lion Blades to help avert Stavian’s plans. Are you willing?"
|
|
Kahwen is ready to leap into action. Then, he remembers the last time he went on a mission at someone's villa. The betrayal almost cost him his ring of protection and actually did cost him a great deal of pride and trust.
He is then, a bit less eager when he nods, his beak bobbing up and down. "Yes. We're ready. What sort of evidence do you need?" he asks.
|
|
Interesting, he's been in charge of security for the event. His avoidance of the people he's purportedly protecting feels off. We'll look into the matter. In the mean time, magic sparks and Cassandra shifts. I will let you see my human form, in case we run into each other during more exciting times.
|
|
"Bring me any information regarding Calhadion's allegiances or dealings with foreign powers or agencies. As to senators he may be targeting... hmm, as with any monarch there is quite a list of enemies, both real and imagined. I wouldn't know where to begin. Best to consider them all in peril." The Lion Blade remarks solemnly, then nods to end the meeting.
--------------------------------
Earl Calhadion Vernisant maintains a modest villa at the edge of Oppara’s city limits. There is a well-manicured gate, beyond which you can see several halflings milling about, tending to the gardens.