After identifying the pair of goggles of night and a shark tooth charm, you proceed onward through the temple. Why would you find a statue of Aroden here? Many mysteries abound, like how Meat Wagon got through the tiny corridor.
Bits of saturated parchment, fragments of wood, and other detritus float on the surface of the two-foot-deep water in the room. Small niches are carved up and down the walls, each space only a few inches square but nearly a foot deep. The niches to the north are mostly destroyed by the partial collapse of the surrounding wall, and a deep crack runs at an angle across it.
To the east, a statue of a hippocampus rears up and its eyes roll back as if in pain. A trident made of a corroded metal protrudes from a wound in its side. Behind the statue on the wall are carved the words “Ex Prothex.”
It isn't long until you find a small airtight tube bobbing in the water. Opening the tube you find a property deed to the playhouse and the surrounding neighborhood.
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Stitch adds in a little bit of missed detail from the mural in the other room "The depiction does not exactly match that famous event; the affected patch of ocean seems too small to be the island, and the figure’s left hand has barely visible webbing between the fingers." Sometimes Stitch has a great attention to detail. He shrugs his shoulders after relaying the information then proceeds to chug-a-lug along through the temple.
"The hippocampus is one of the mascots of Absalom and that “Ex Prothex” is the city’s motto, meaning “First among equals.”.. looks like this temple wasn't a big fan of the city."
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"G-guess not," Fran nods as she stares at the ominous statue. "It m-must have been taken over by a c-cult after the city was founded. That's weird though, about the mural. Um, why would the artist depict Aroden with webbed hands? He didn't come from the sea, as far as I know..."
When the group finds the property deed, her eyes light up. "Oh w-wow, did this wash away into this p-part of the caverns? It's a good thing we found it! If we, um, give it to Zusgut then he and his tribe will own the playhouse and everything fair and square."
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Nicole takes the pair of goggles and wears them. "Do I look silly?" she asks Fran for her comment. "This will do, I think.
She agrees with Stitch, the fact she does not know any of those he said. But she believes they are true. [b]"Then there is a missing piece to make sense of all we learned here."
She then inspects the statue. "It looks to me that I can feel its pain. If removing this trident would not do any historical harm, I will pull it, but it won't make sense on its pained expression without the trident poking in its wound."
Nicole manages to pull the trident out of the statue without much trouble. Nothing magical about it, but it's well preserved. Just as Stitch wonders if the temple investigation is complete, he hears an unearthly moan, followed by someone coughing. "Ah, hello! Is anyone there?"
A prominent hole has been opened in the western wall of the passage here from the opposite side. Some of the bricks have crumbled and fallen, or perhaps been knocked loose, creating a small opening into a room beyond. The walls of this inner room show signs of being scratched or clawed.
You aren't able to fit through the hole. But as you have tools on hand, you wouldn't need more than 30 minutes to make a hole big enough for a medium sized creature to fit through. A skilled crafter could do it in half the time.
You hear heavy breathing from behind the wall. "Ah, hello! Is anyone there?" An undead creature's face moves up to the hole in the wall. "How do you do, fellow living creatures? I am called Marconi Tinol. I implore you to release me! Guide me to the surface! I have secrets that must be told!" His tongue hangs out for an unreasonably long amount of time before he coils it back into his mouth.
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"My apologies, good living sir? I am a human, trapped under here for... I don't know how long I've been here." Marconi takes another look at his razor sharp hands. "Am I alive? Oh, no wonder I seem very, er, sus, to you."
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Expert
Looking through the hole at Marconi, Vardarel backs up a step and says “Ghast!”
Then he pauses and considers the situation. Doesn’t seem ravenous. Seems more confused about his situation than anything. Also really isn’t a hunt if the creature is stuck in a room. About the only way it would be less of a hunt is if it were chained up.
“I fear you are no longer among the living, Mr. Tinol. How did you come to be in this situation and have you considered allowing yourself to go to the boneyard?”
"I am not alive? You must be yanking my chain, as it were." He scratches his head. "Now, why I am I here?"
“Well, I was...’prisoned here, chained and bricked up behind that same wall. I...slept...died? I woke then and broke the chains. Searched for escape, but there was none. So slept again I did ‘til the ground shook. Since then I have drifted...and chipped. A crack, I noticed after the shaking. This hole is all I have...created.” Marconi begins to ponder.
"Oh, what's the Boneyard, anyway? Sounds yummy."
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“A part of Pharasma’s realm where souls are judged and sent on to the appropriate realm. Think of it as refreshing of the soul.”
Yup, definitely doesn’t realize their situation. Note to self: best avoid words like bones, flesh, or even meat.
“You said you were imprisoned here? Who did that to you and why?”
"Where souls are sent? Sounds like I'd have to die first." Marconi shakes his head.
Vardarel asks about the imprisonment. “My secret, that is...to keep...it burns in my mind, a secret to bargain with. I know much. And greatly does a family in Absalom fear my secret. Prithee, I beg you to free me. Guide me to the surface and I will share my secret. Perhaps then I will know peace...for realz.”
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Stitch watches the ghast from atop his trusty steed, putting all the information together as he sees it. "What's this family name? Maybe after all this time its not even around any more.."
Afterwards: "Give us a few minutes, we need to talk about things." He moves Meat Wagon to block the hole and revs the engine to drown out their discussion.
"Looking at the hole Marconi started making, it'll be out in a couple weeks time.. then what? Or maybe if we get it to the surface it can spill its beans and drift off to the Boneyard peacefully." He shrugs "Or we can roast it now?"
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"Um...if we can get to him agree to wear some chains or something..." Fran whispers, glancing anxiously towards the hole and then back to her friends, "...then m-maybe we should try. If Vardarel's right and doing that would let him pass on and go where he's meant, then that would be, um, a good thing. He's scary, I don't want to fight him if we can help it..."
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"Oh! And, um, I just thought of something! If we can convince him to wear manacles or something, we can put the Hat of Disguise on him too," Fran suddenly realizes. "Because, um, otherwise we'd be taking a ghast past Zusgut's goblins and out into the open. That would, um, probably cause a lot of alarm if we did that..."
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After seeing whoever is on the other side of the hole, with the trident still in her hand, she quickly draws one of her ghost bombs but stops herself from throwing it, realizing that the creature is not hostile.
After the conversation and learning some things about Mr. Tinol from the others, they need to indeed decide if they should help him or not.
"That's a good idea, I think." she agrees with Fran. "What are we going to tell the goblin king if he asks too much, like where did we meet him or something?" she adds. "I wonder if he could tell us first his secrets. But I don't know how to convince him." she shrugs at her own idea.
"And he sounds different. Sus? For realz? What do those even mean? Did people speak like that during his time? Weird."
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"Loud noises and fire is all you need to distract goblins. Maybe some free food like pickles or road kill.. I'll bring the fire and noise, you all are in charge of the road kill." He does nod in agreement with the hat of disguise idea.
"I don't expect they'll bat much of an eye to us finding a lost soul down here anyhow. We are in the Puddles, did you see how many lost souls wander around there?" In my former years I'd have called them donors.. but I've changed!
"So, my fellow Absoloms, you'll let me out and get jiggy with it?" Marconi calls from the hole in the wall. "I think I could get out myself, but you have tools. I just have my hands. Mayhaps you could free me sooner?"
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Vardarel goes over to the hole to talk to Marconi Tinol.
“Yes, I think we have agreed to help you Mr. Tinol. We would bring you to someone who can help you get your secret out. There are a few of things we would like on your side though.”
“The first is your promise as a gentleman to not injure anyone.”
“The second is for you to be bound or manacled.”
“Lastly we are going to want you to not attract attention to yourself. I believe this is in your interests as well, since your secret involves powerful individuals and the political landscape in the city has changed a bit over the years.”
“Are these terms acceptable to you?”
"Not injuring anyone? Oh, that's an easy promise to make. Of course I won't hurt anyone."
"Manacles..." Marconi's eyes Vardarel for a moment before looking at his own hands. "Then again, I see what you mean. I will submit."
"Yes, I must protect the secret at all costs, until I can share it to those who would listen. I will remain quiet until then. Maybe I can sleep again afterwards..."
With the warhammer in hand, it is trivial to break the wall down. Marconi keeps his distance as you smash it down. His nostrils flare, as if he's smelling something delicious after a lifetime adrift at sea.
"Ah, thank you! Thank you! I quite appreciate everything you've done to free me! The secret must be told." He raises his hands. "As promised, please bind my hands. I'll try to keep quiet." He sniffs again. "What is that wonderful smell?"
With your investigation complete, and a new guest at hand, you make your way out of the temple and board the boat. It's a miracle it stays afloat on your way back to the sewers.
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As you finish your exploration, the water begins to splash about. It must be near high tide. The water level is slowly yet surely rising. It's time to head back. By the time you return to the playhouse the staircase is flooded up to the top step.
Already a gaggle of goblins are gabbing about, wondering if any dead animals will wash in. You can hear their groans of disappointment as you emerge.
"King Zusgut demands a full report!" Velkik runs ahead with such speed the crowd parts around her. "You must tell the king of your progress. Come!"
The King is watching goblins on stage trying to repeat the play but getting distracted when they drop a torch as they trip on their cloak and catch fire. King Zusgut sighs and turns around as you approach. "Ah! Pathfinders! Tell me... what is going on?"
"This is... the deed?" King Zusgut scans it over. His eyes open wide and his grin stretches so widely even Velkik has to step back. "This is... incredible! Everyone will have to respect us now! And we can even expand! Or clean up the neighborhood! We'll be heroes!" He points at you. "Thanks to you. YOU'LL BE HEROES!"
The goblins quickly mob around the king to scan the document, before he tosses it over the shoulder into Velkik's arms. She pulls out her reading glasses to scan it.
"Excellent job. Excellent. Is there anything else you found there?" He sniffs the air a few times.
"Right, right... Good." King Zusgut scratches his chin. "What is that smell...?" He turns away and instructs some of the goblins to scatter. Some of them scramble on stage and pretend to fight off the undead from the Whisper Tyrant's army. Velkik continues to read the deed, occasionally sniffing around.
Looks like King Zusgut is satisfied. Now you need to get Marcon Tinol out of there without raising suspicion. He is keeping quiet and inconspicous, and his arms are still bound.
Nicole begins sniffing, and despite the sewer stink, she notices something else- the faint smell of decayed flesh. Marconi is keeping quiet and not moving, but he does smell.
Roark catches on as the king and his trusted assistant Velkik, priestess of Sarenrae, slowly approach Marconi with their noses. King Zusgut sniffs the air. "Is there... an undead creature following you?" He points at Marcon Tinol. "You do know the Whispering Tyrant uses undead, yes? We were almost overwhelmed by an army of those."
Roark decides to fess up with some song and dance. The King holds steadfast for a few moments, but the trademark smile breaks out. "Haha! Okay, okay. If you say he's okay, I'll believe it. I was worried you Pathfinders were working along side dangerous undead creatures."
"Dangerous? Me? As if!" Marconi intones and tries to point at himself. "But a man who looks out for his own nation's safety- That's so Zusgut!"
King Zusgut drops the issue and grants you passage. "Undead talks funny. Maybe I liked it more when they just groaned and tried to eat brains."
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Back in the Grand Lodge, you are escorted to a private briefing room. Dandle Dreng is already seated at a table. "Tell me, how did your mission go? Were you able to help King Zusgut? And who is this?"
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Grinning, Vardarel makes a grand gesture towards the ghoul and says “May I introduce Marconi Tinol. He says he has secrets he wants to tell. We found him bricked up behind a wall where he had been left manacled.”
“He is still coming to terms with his situation. We hope by helping him with this task, he can find peace.”
Turning to Marconi, he then says “This is Drendle Dreng. If anyone can find a way for your secret to be spread to the right ears, it is him.”
Turning back to Dreng, he then says “We found the title to the theater that King Zusgut is in and gave it to him. Although a few of us have volunteered time helping him clean the theater, I believe you will find he is quite pleased with us.”
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"Mister Tinol has been, um, really understanding and cooperative, too," Fran adds. "Oh...and we also ran into some mercenaries that had been sent by Olansa Terimor to explore the sewers. King Zusgut gave the job to us after, um, both groups put on a show for him but they crept in after us. But we were able to talk them out of a fight and they went on their way."
Something clicks and she glances at Marconi. "Um...the mercs said she didn't tell them why to explore the sewers or what they were looking for. Told them it was c-classified. I, um, I wonder if that and us finding Mister Tinol are connected?"
"Either that or maybe something to do with this sealed lockbox we found in a pool of water. We never could get it open but we have it with us..."
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"Excellent work, Pathfinders!" Drandle Dreng stands up and inspects Marconi Tinol closely. "Mister Tinol, we are thankful for your cooperation. The goblins now have a permanent home. I assure you, they are much less... belligerent than before, an earlier edition of their lives. Did you have something to tell us? You can trust me."
Marconi Tinol sits down for bit. He considers drinking a glass of water, but realizes he isn't thirsty. "I was an accountant and bookkeeper for House Candren of Absalom. They dealt with a lot of shipping, although taxes were heavy and cut into their profits. Until one day, they stopped paying taxes and received astronomical growth. Ednathian Candren, the patriarch of the family, ignored my inquiries and told me not to worry about their sudden wealth. But I'm- I'm an accountant. I have to know. So I kept digging."
"The tax collectors never looked into it. My investigators ignored my offers. I... I had to find out what was going on." He seems agitated. "And I found out: The head of the family paid a powerful but poor wizard for a magical wish, freedom from taxes. Forever." He snarls.
"That's when the Candrens captured me! Threw me into the accursed tombs, and walled me up, left me to die. I knew I would get out one day and tell my secret. They couldn't bury the truth forever. And now, I am free! Finally!"
If you critically succeeded, open the spoiler below:
"Yes, Marcon. You are free..." Marcon nods slowly as Dandle Dreng stands and knocks on the wall. Knock, short pause, knock, long pause, double knock. "Marcon, we must restrain you for a bit longer, but we will prepare an audience for you to tell your story to the people of Absalom."
Marcon stands up a bit straight and mumbles. "I have been restrained for so long, what's another few days?" He sniffs again, and his eyes widen with a sudden realization. "Oh. I see what smells so good." He covers his face, deep with shame. "I feel so tired, and yet so hungry..."
He turns to Vardarel. "What did you call it? The Boneyard? Yes, I should go there. Soon."
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"I w-wasn't trying to say what they did was a *good* thing," Fran replies, her tone defensive. "J-just that making this public will have a lot of consequences for different people and that they'll be bad for House Candren and Goodman Hugen but hopefully good for the rest of the city."
There's a slight pause and she adds, "And that was a dumb wish anyway. Freedom from taxes forever?? S-some people have no imagination..."
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Nicole is also familiar with the First Harbormaster and agrees with Fran when she discloses this information. "I can understand why people would desire being freed from taxes, especially when they are aware that such funds are being mismanaged by inept and corrupt public officials – at least in theory," Nicole emphasizes that this discussion is purely hypothetical, pertaining to a speculative scenario, and is not a commentary on the actual public officials of Absalom.
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Within the week, the Crookedtoes speed up their rate of repair on the theater, and manage to get an approval from the neighbors in the Puddles. King Zusgut even hires some of the local residents to help with repairs.
The Absolom Lovers is a popular magazine among minor nobles and merchants. They publish an exclusive interview with Marcon Tinol as he relays his story of accounting and a magic wish that ruined his life. Thanks to Councilmember Olansa Terimor's recent Pressure of the Press initiative, this issue of the Absolom Lovers is the best selling issue they've ever had. Goodman Hugen of House Candren is embroiled in controversy as people question his ancestors and their source of wealth.
The conclusion matters not for Tinol. Within days he feels his hunger and fatigue rise, and he knows it is time. His final words are a simple "Thank you." His remains are buried and the priests of Abbadar bless his soul for a safe passage to the Boneyard.
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Stitch nods along with the other's assessment of harbor master.
"Well, best we keep our names out of his ears. This was 100% Marcon's fault." He double checks the articles to be sure their team and the Pathfinders aren't mentioned.
"I did wonder if Olansa Terimor was down there for the deed of the playhouse or Tinol, but looks like she really pushed that story through.. must hold a grudge on that guy."
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Bella is back at the Grand Lodge, face buried in the latest issue of the Absalom Lovers. Khiari is reading from her own journal, focused on reviewing what she wrote. Bella looks up for a moment to see you approach and quickly shoves the Absalom Lovers onto Khiari's journal before standing up.
"Ah, greetings and salutations! I was just... er... reading the articles in this magazine. The gossip inside is quite juicy." She coughs. "How have you fared?"
"Sis kissed a frog. Crocker had to remind her he wasn't cursed, he really is a talking frog." Khiari neatly folds the magazine and snaps her journal shut.
"We think we know who hired the assassins who killed our father, Lore Sidare. Crocker had analyzed the murder weapon." She sighs. "Fey assassins, they think it's all a joke."