You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission that you hope will be of utmost importance.
Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.
You were asked to all come together in one of the meeting rooms of the Grand Lodge and have been waiting for a couple of minutes already but Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng has not arrived, yet.
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A large Shoanti man enters the room and sits carefully after setting an elaborately inscribed earthbreaker by the chair. He struggles to find comfort in the hard-backed chair, shifting uncomfortably before setting a booted foot up on the table and half reclining in the chair. Greetings, the spirits bless you this day. I am Kalak Sunrunner of the Sklar-Quah of the Shoanti; do you know why the Venture-Captain has called our blades together this day? he pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, Last time they summoned me here I was sent to a museum, and we battled the totem spirits possessing a man... with that he shrugs, waiting for the others to introduce themselves.
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A blackfurred ratfolk enters the room and sits down. He shifts around and grins, baring a gold tooth. "Kalak, You said? Nice to meet ya. My name's Twitchy." He starts rolling a stiletto knife on his fingers. "I haven't heard anything about what we're here to do. Do you have any more information?" He asks Kalak Sunrunner.
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The door opens again and in walks a short, broad and rather hairy gentleman carrying a big spear. "Is this the group for Drandle Dreng?" he say pulling back his hood to reveal a pair of twitching antennae sprouting from his forehead. Swinging his rather hefty looking backpack onto the floor and plonks himself down in the nearest chair. "The names Vosh, Thaelen Vosh. Nice to meet you.". "Any idea where the Venture Captains got to? This is my first proper assignment and I'm keen to get going.".
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"Greetings, associates. My signifier is PumpkinCorp DivinoBot RNG-31029003," an orange-skinned android who has been standing in the corner motionless. "For ease, you may refer to me as Orenjii. My function is to utilize my malevolent ocular implant to reduce the effectiveness of our opponents, then to provide fortune-telling services to them at high velocity."
Drandle Dreng is the venture-captain of the Pathfinder Society who handles Pathfinder assignments concerning Absalom's history and mysteries. He has a remarkable memory: he recalls hidden truths about the city's most important people that even they have forgotten. These secrets are not just gathered from Pathfinder agents: he gathers information personally.
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Suddenly a little female gnome with pink hair opens the door to your meeting room and asks “Are you the team waiting for Drandle? He won’t be able to meet you here but left an address for you to meet him. Here you go!“
She hands one of you a piece of paper with the address and runs out as fast as she had arrived.
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The Shoanti had come to his feet, but stopped when the gnome announced they'd be going elsewhere. He looks to the Android to confirm their next location, before picking up his pack, Shall we see what awaits us there? he asks the others, moving toward the door.
Once outside he smoothly mounts an unsaddled Shoanti steed patiently waiting by the doors, and walks it in the direction of the new address, following the lead of the others.
You decide to go to the address and any Pathfinders that are late will receive the address from the lovely young gnome.
Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.
“Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
The question that Thaelen asked hangs in the air for only a scant moment before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?”
Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.”
As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled Venture-Captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
“The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
Selmius Foster was one of the founding members of the Pathfinder Society, known to have frequented the Wisp often and occasionally taken up residence in a spare room between his travels. His celebrated exploits first appeared in Volume 1 of the Pathfinder Chronicles.
Following the death of Selmius Foster on the island of Bhopan, his assistant Adolphus made several donations to maintain one of his mentor’s favorite sites. The exact arrangement between Adolphus and the owners of the Wisp was never disclosed, but it is said that some of this gold came from the same fortune that Adolphus used to found the Pathfinder lodge in Quantium.
“Do you have any questions?“
"What, no, No! You have the power to do it! It really is only a wine bottle! After I have my bottle your real mission is going to start but you see ... I cannot leave now and would so much like to have a good glass of wine." Dreng says with a smile.
"Trouble? No! Of course not! You can find me here again when you got my bottle. I am not going anywhere at the moment.”
He suddenly stares to corner to his right and hesitates moment – then looks at you “Run, run, otherwise you might be too late!“
Following the instructions you arrive at the Wounded Wisp bar.
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LOCATION
The Wounded Wisp is located in the Foreign Quarter district of Absalom, close to the grounds of the Grand Lodge. Dreng’s hastily sketched map provides basic directions. You have no difficulty finding the establishment with the map Dreng provided. Almost every initiate or member has heard of or seen the building at some point.
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DESCRIPTION
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior of the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. In the hours just before dawn, the building closes long enough for menials to clean and to give staff a rest.
The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern—referred to by the staff as “the wisp”— that hangs there during the evening hours.
A1. Entry Hall: This long wooden hallway is the entrance to the Wounded Wisp, heading north into the building itself. The walls are covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar.
A2. Coat Check: This large closet contains various coat racks and shelves for patrons to place any equipment they don’t want to lug with them. Typically a teenager works here and manages any garments the patrons wish to stow.
A3. Main Hall: Tables fill the main floor of the Wounded Wisp where patrons sit with colleagues and share stories over drinks. Three sets of stairs lead up to a raised dining area (area A5).
A4. Bar: Staffed by at least one employee of the Wounded Wisp, the bar holds a variety of different beers, while hard liquors are kept in a glass case on the wall behind the bar.
A5. Dining Area: Four feet above the main floor of the Wounded Wisp, this section is sectioned off by elegant metal railings. On this level, patrons can enjoy a more private meal without the noise of the area below.
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The large Shoanti enters the Wounded Wisp, shaking water from his shaved head, and brushing the droplets from the leather spaulders on his armor. Seems like a decent place, perhaps we need a drink? he asks the others. I suppose we should return this bottle of wine to Dreng and be about our business. Fetching bottles of wine... the tribesman grumps under his breath.
YOU STEP INSIDE
The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
As you arrive, a handful of different groups are already relaxing around the bar, enjoying drink and food offered by the Wisp’s staff.
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You all notice that the current talk of the bar is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
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Standing here in the Wounded Wisp you see a lot of Wayfinders in the open and realize that this tavern is still very much frequented by Pathfinders
You look around and some of you see the faces of people that you have once or twice seen in the Grand Lodge.
On the other side of the bar sits the military historian Yargos Gill, one of the few patrons who bear no direct affiliation with the Society. Despite this, Gill has often found himself wrapped up in the Society’s affairs and he has come to accept the Pathfinders as allies. The older man is sipping from an oversized flagon of ale while reading through a large and ominous-looking tome.
Next to the bar sits Janira Gavix. Having completed her ow n Confirmation several months ago, the female halfling bard enjoys taking breaks at the Wounded Wisp. You have heard that Janira has an extraordinary memory, and that she spends much time here learning about the exploits of other adventurers and relating her own tales with oratorical flourishes.
Looking at her table you have the impression that Janira already has a group of newly confirmed Pathfinders listening to her tales of Society founder Durvin Gest and the fabled Lens of Galundari.
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This is quite the gathering hall, reminds me of the places of my homeland when the warriors and shaman would recline by the fires.... I think I recognize that person there. the Shoanti says by way of helping...
He seems at ease, shoulders relaxed, and hands away from weapons. These conversations warm my heart, many goodly folk about goodly things.
For those of you who know her, Heryn Gale works the bar of the Wounded Wisp tonight, catering directly to those sitting on stools while simultaneously preparing drinks for those at tables and coordinating the wait staff.
Orenjii strides over to the table where Janira is sitting. "Greetings, Initiate Master Gavix. You appear much improved from the last time we adventured together. I hope your plans for this group is similarly invigorating."
Janira suddenly turns around to Orenjii and smiles at them.
"Oh hello handsome! You know me? You look familiar. Wow, guys look I am already famous!?!" she says laughing to the group around her.
"I need to get another drink!" Janira says to the group she is sitting with and comes to the bar where you all are standing. She orders ale and starts to observe you.
Janira winks at Orenjii "What is your name? And do these fresh agents belong to you?" she asks Orenjii but also lets her view wander to the rest of you.
"Oh hello gentlemen, I am Heryn, hard to believe that I still need to introduce myself." she says laughing. Then she takes your orders and serves you everything you need.
"So what package brings you to this establishment?"
"I do not believe they 'belong' to me in any sense of the word," Orenjii replies, "but I am certainly the most experienced agent on this mission. So far, however, we have accomplished little other than running an errand for Venture=Captain Dreng."
Her facial features become a little more serious and she looks at all of you.
"Only an errand? Well, I come to this place because this tavern represents our roots. I sometimes have the feeling that we Pathfinders have forgotten so much of the lessons of the past."
She shakes her head and looks up again.
"So why are you here? To drink and be proud to be a Pathfinder without understanding what that actually means?! I hope not because we have enough of that sort of people around here."
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"Oh hello gentlemen, I am Heryn, hard to believe that I still need to introduce myself." she says laughing. Then she takes your orders and serves you everything you need.
"So what package brings you to this establishment?"
”Its for Drandle Dreng. Apparently it contains wine, but that’s as much as we’ve been told.”
Heryn smiles.
"Oh of course, I was wondering when Drandle would get his bottle. I cannot accompany you down at the moment as I have to wait until my replacement arrives so that I can step away from the bar. Look, up there are two free tables. Take a seat and have a drink and I will be with you within the next hour, ok?"
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Heryn smiles.
"Oh of course, I was wondering when Drandle would get his bottle. I cannot accompany you down at the moment as I have to wait until my replacement arrives so that I can step away from the bar. Look, up there are two free tables. Take a seat and have a drink and I will be with you within the next hour, ok?"
"Sounds good to me" Says Thaelen, who starts to get up to head over to the tables, before spotting the gentelman sitting on the stool next to him "Am I correct in thinking you're Yargos Gill the military historian? This is quite a coincidence. Why, only this morning I picked up a copy of your latest work."
Thaelen can read the first lines of the tome's pages and it seems to be a rather juicy bibliography of Para-Countess Granara Ludmil of Egorian.
Yargos Gill looks up and is slightly surprised "Thaelen? Is that really you? I would not have thought we see each other so soon again!" he says although Thaelen is sure they’ve never been formally introduced.
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Yargos Gill looks up and is slightly surprised "Thaelen? Is that really you? I would not have thought we see each other so soon again!" he says although Thaelen is sure they’ve never been formally introduced.
"Yes, it really is me. Although remind me...my memory it not what it was...when was it we last met?"
“Well, you’re a lashunta! Not many in Absolom!!“
Yargos invites you to sit down and just in that moment a server sets two glasses of ale on the table and points at a little halfling girl that is now singing on a chair.
Thaelen and Yargos start to speak with each other and Thaelen realizes fast that despite not being a member of the Pathfinder Society, Yargos Gill is familiar with the organization and has worked with Pathfinders in the past.
"You know Thaelen, I am amiable to agents as it provides an outsider’s unique perspective on the Society’s actions. I do not want to get sidetracked but ..." and with that he starts to go on long tangents regarding important military history from the Inner Sea. The old man obviously assumes that everyone - including Thaelen - is knowledgeable of such things. When Thaelen wants to intervene Yargos does not really let him speak and begins to discuss particulars about his digressions and he goes into excruciating detail about esoteric events.
Appeals to Pathfinder camaraderie have little effect on Yargos Gill. Instead, he enjoys learning about ancient secrets and current events, and he sometimes lends his expertise when doing so would allow him to participate in an important discovery without actually risking his own neck.
"Hmmm ... you are a very silent man Thaelen! Let me continue as I really like my voice! You probably heard of Sir Reinhart and his aspiration to become a god. Well, I do not care about him but as a historian I have some knowledge of the failed aspirants, and am researching and interpreting some recent discoveries. I have many scholarly contacts that also include members of the Arcanamirium. But I do not want to go into too much detail!" he says with a mysterious gesture.
With a warm smile he says "Thaelen, I hope you excuse me now. I have an urgent meeting now but it was great talking to you!"
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The Shaonti crosses to the bar, conversing with the bartender breifly, Be received Heryn, this is a wonderous place, where those of like mind can share. Are we always welcome here, I only have heard stories of the Wounded Wisp from other new Pathfinders, and I have not left Absalom since arriving here some few months ago. The stories told would help me understand my role here in the Society. Our people's stories told me of what I must do as a warrior, and helped me decide to learn more of the world before I eventually return home to teach my people.
He follows the Lashunta to the military historian, I am Kalak Sunrunner, and I would hear your tales in exchange for stories of the Sklar-Quah, whose thunder rolls across the Storval Plateau. and he listens intently to the musings of the bookish historian, I shall return another time and share with you a story or two of my people and the way of Thunder and Fang... he says, patting the klar adorning his left wrist.
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"Mistress Heryn, my apologies. I think maybe I am supposed to jump right into 'pathfinding' and yet your offer to relax and have a drink was so appealing: would the Wounded Wisp happen to have anything from Kyonin? A simple mead, or even the berry wine produced outside Iadara? I have been away from Erages for so long ..."