Phantom dot in when chosen.
The crisp chill of the Arcadian Ocean can be clearly felt as it sweeps across the fetid waters of Riddleport Harbor and onto the city streets, and your incipient arrival inspires recent memories. Only a few days ago, back in Magnimar, Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch detailed the covert mission from behind the oaken desk in her office. “Lissala is the Thassilonian goddess of runes, fate, and obedience,” she explained. “Her followers are wicked and secretive, but they can be bought for the right price. The Aspis Consortium offered that price. In exchange for creating a back door into the Hao Jin Tapestry—I don't think any of you have been there; it's a museum demiplane that we Pathfinders thought was entirely our own—the Aspis Consortium promised a river of wealth to the secretive cult. The Pathfinder Society ejected the Aspis Consortium from the Hao Jin Tapestry and the Consortium defaulted on its contract with the cult of Lissala. As you might expect from followers of a goddess of duty, the Lissalans are irate at the Aspis Consortium for defaulting. Tensions between the two groups are at their breaking point, and I need you to finish the job.
“Vidrin Jenk is a silver agent in the Aspis Consortium, newly arrived in Riddleport and anxious to prove his worth to the organization. The Aspis Consortium recently purchased the Barracuda Cartage company, and Jenk operates out of the offices there. Jenk plans to patch up relations with the cult of Lissala, which is well hidden somewhere in Riddleport. To help him, Jenk requisitioned a group of Aspis Consortium specialists—all bronze agents led by a mysterious troubleshooter named Thestil Shadowtongue.”
At this point, Venture-Captain Heidmarch slid several bronze badges across the desk, some flecked with blood. She tsks at the sight. “I thought I'd ordered those cleaned....” Then she returns to business. “Those specialists aren’t going to make it to Riddleport. You are. I want you to pretend to be the Aspis Consortium agents Jenk requested. Do as he asks, but only to keep suspicion off of you until you find out where the cult of Lissala is hiding. Once you know that, I need you to do two things. First, sabotage the Lissalan safe house as completely as possible. Second, throw the blame for the sabotage onto the Aspis Consortium.
“How you complete these tasks I leave to your discretion, but I want you to keep murder to a minimum. One of the Lissalan cultists is feeding us information, and I don’t want to risk you killing this valuable source. Furthermore, we want the Lissalans to remain alive so they can turn their full ire against the Aspis Consortium. Once you’ve accomplished these two mission objectives, return here.”
Heidmarch smiles broadly. “Welcome to the Aspis Consortium. Any questions before you leave for Riddleport?”
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Standing there with a cocky smirk on his face is an elf of medium build with a strawberry blonde mop of hair. A finely crafted longsword is sheathed at his hip and a well-made morningstar dangles from a belt hook on the other hip. An expertly crafted longbow of elven design is slung over his back. He wears no armor, just a well-tailored adventurer's outfit.
He wipes the dried blood from the badge and stares at it for a moment, his grin widens across his face.
"Heh. Awesome. We get to masquerade as Aspis agents."
He then introduces himself to Sheila with a polite nod.
"What does this Lissalan informant look like? It would be most unfortunate if one of us..."
He gives a wink and a grin to his companions,
"...were to accidentally kill them."
"Are there any secret passwords or hand symbols we need to know to pass as Aspis agents?"
"And, uh, what kinds of goods does this Barracuda Cartage deal in?"
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Sylvester shrugs. Fooling humans is generally easy, easier than fooling a dragon at any rate.
"It should not be that difficult Corenthllr. I doubt they will expect greatness from the lowest ranking agents. Still any background information can only be helpful."
"I can be this Thestil Shadowtongue if you like."
Sylvester's mount wags his tail. He clearly has no idea about what is being discussed but he barks anyways in support of his master's words.
"Woof."
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An imposing human, clad head to toe in red and leaning against a wicked-looking scythe, enters the room just moments before requested by Heidmarch. He takes a seat and says gruffly to those near him, "They call me the Red Reverend," before turning to face the Venture-Captain.
He carefully selects one of the bloodstained badges. "I do not understand why you keep sending me on jobs where sending our enemies to the Boneyard is not an objective, but I will do what I can."
The Venture-Captain replies to Corenthiir, "All we know is that the informant is a cleric. They're probably human, and everything they've passed along to us has checked out as sound. We don't know any more than that. So no killing sophonts in the safe house. Guardian beasts and constructs are fair game, though.
"The badge is enough to prove you an Aspis agent. That might change if they figure out what we did, though.
"As to what sort of goods Barracuda Cartage deals in? They have wagons and guards, and if it fits it ships. It's a good line of work if you want to move contraband."
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At this point, Venture-Captain Heidmarch slid several bronze badges across the desk, some flecked with blood. She tsks at the sight. “I thought I'd ordered those cleaned....”
"Wait. Ye nicked dees?" says a stolid dwarf looking over the coins with some disgust.
"Lady, Oi 'eard yer once got punched in de beak by a paladin, an' nigh Oi can believe it. Naw point in pretendin ter be Aspis since it seems clear de Society act jist loike dem." He hocks a spit on the ground trying to get the taste of treachery out of his mouth.
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A young red-haired woman in studded leather armor with a finely crafted dark bow slung over her back and a longsword on her hip enters the waiting room of the VC's office and approaches the group of Pathfinders.
"Sylvester!" she exclaims and dashes forward, grabbing the gnome in a big hug, whirling him around. "So good to see you again!"
Then she seems to remember her manners. With an embarrassed look on her face she puts Sylvester down, walks around and starts to shake hands, now smiling exitedly.
"Hi, I'm Merida... Merida Bowie! This is my fifth mission!"
After introductions, Merida crouches down and offers for Sylvester's riding dog a treat while giving him a head rub.
"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? You are, Shaggy!"
A little later she looks up and asks: "Aren't we supposed to be six agents? Who's missing?"
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Sylvester winks at Merida happy to see a familiar face. He nods at Seebonickk.
"Well, not to worry I can do most of the talking. The rest of you can just back me up by nodding and saying the occasional word. Of course if anyone else would like to take the lead that would be fine as well assuming that you are suited for that sort of work."
"I don't think that they will be expecting much of us. We are likely only some muscle brought in to do a job. We will find out more when we get there."
Heidmarch takes a moment to parse Bullwhip's thick accent, then shakes her head grimly. "The team we took these badges from were engaged in slave trading. I think that's worth stopping, don't you? Now, I agree that your best liar should pretend to be Thestil Shadowtongue. Thestil has gone to great lengths over the years to keep their identity hidden, and we don't think Jenk has ever met them. That badge--" She points to a slightly more elaborate emblem. "--is appropriate for Thestil's rank, so assign them accordingly.
"Do you have any other questions?"
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**snort**
Av al' de 'igh an' mighty cheek! Slavery's been legal in Absalom for centuries. Oi don't see yer slittin' slavers' necks in back alleys dare, lady. Bullwhip thinks darkly. Wan day you'll git yers, Heidmarch. An' it 'ill likewise be on sum weasel's technicality. Yer either believe in de law, or yer don't.
"Good luck, Pa--agents. We have some indication that the Aspis plan involves Riddleport's temples, but nothing more than that."
trade organization with shadowy leadership and a reputation for ruthless trade practices.
The party arrives at Barracuda Cartage at sundown. Although it's getting late, the newly-restarted trade house is still active. In appearance, it's a dilapidated compound showing signs of recent repair. The cartage company’s main building rises three stories above the filthy streets. Behind this main building stands a coach-house large enough for four wagons. A weedy yard is enclosed by a high brick wall, but the large wooden doors to the yard stand open to admit new business, even in this
evening hour. Beside the doors, a wooden sign reads, “Barracuda Cartage. Under New Management.”
A half-dozen individuals loiter in the front yard, and all of them might as well have "THUG" tattooed on their foreheads. They're overseeing twice as many laborers loading carts with bundles of what appears to be well-made sailcloth. The apparent leader glares at the party suspiciously. "What's your business here?"
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Bullwhip knows what everyone else knows about the shadowy group of traders.
A half-dozen individuals loiter in the front yard, and all of them might as well have "THUG" tattooed on their foreheads. They're overseeing twice as many laborers loading carts with bundles of what appears to be well-made sailcloth. The apparent leader glares at the party suspiciously. "What's your business here?"
"What's dat stan' for?" Bullwhip says pointing up to the man's forehead.
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On their way to Riddleport, Corenthiir shares any knowledge he knows regarding their mission.
"Lissala was the Thassilonian deity of runes, fate, duty, and obedience. Her worshipers are generally sadomasochistic self-flagellants who believe that self-inflicted pain opens the mind to enlightenment."
He rambles quite a bit of knowledge about the thorn in the Society's side, The Aspis Consortium.
"The Aspis Consortium is a supranational
trade organization with shadowy leadership and a reputation for ruthless trade practices.
The Aspis Consortium hires countless common mercenaries and merchants. Bronze agents hold the lowest rank of actual membership in the Consortium. Bronze agents are overseen by silver agents, who are in turn overseen by gold agents. A gold agent usually administers affairs in a large city or small nation.
The Aspis Consortium has made several loans to power groups in Riddleport, including the three primary temples. These loans were drafted with intensely legalistic language and included steep interest rates, which the temples are often reluctant to pay, further entrenching them in debt."
Unfortunately, he doesn't know a thing about the temples in Riddleport.
"Religion isn't my cup of tea. I'm sure The Reverend might know something."
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Sylvester knows about the common rumours about the Aspis Consortium but his natural inclination tend towards the study of the arcane and nature and not the humanities.
When questioned by the guard he flashes his more elaborate bronze Aspis badge with a trace of contempt.
"We are on business here to see Vidrin Jenk. He is expecting us and does not wish any delays."
The mounted gnome looks around as if he might have been followed.
"We were never here and you did not see us. Understand?"
Bluff check of 20 on a take 10 to appear as a person of importance.
Shaggy senses his master's mood and is alert and mindful of his surroundings. He is practically silent and motionless waiting on Sylvester's commands.
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On their way to Riddleport, Corenthiir shares any knowledge he knows regarding their mission.
"The Aspis Consortium hires countless common mercenaries and merchants. Bronze agents hold the lowest rank of actual membership in the Consortium. Bronze agents are overseen by silver agents, who are in turn overseen by gold agents. A gold agent usually administers affairs in a large city or small nation."
"So venture-captain-level, aye?" says Bullwhip casting some shade.
The Aspis Consortium has made several loans to power groups in Riddleport, including the three primary temples. These loans were drafted with intensely legalistic language and included steep interest rates, which the temples are often reluctant to pay, further entrenching them in debt."
"Roi! So let's go hit us a couple av dungeons, an' sum evil wizards' towers an' pay dem aff wi' sum av de loot. Naw nade for al' dis sneakin' raun business." says the dwarf readying his impressive dwarf waraxe as if dungeon delving was as simple and carefree as going off on a little afternoon jaunt around a village green.
A half-dozen individuals loiter in the front yard, and all of them might as well have "THUG" tattooed on their foreheads. They're overseeing twice as many laborers loading carts with bundles of what appears to be well-made sailcloth. The apparent leader glares at the party suspiciously. "What's your business here?"
"Besides, what's it ter yer?" Bullwhip says threateningly, stepping in beside the wee Sylvester. After al' thar's only a 'alf-dozen av dem.
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Corenthiir subtly shakes his head in disapproval of Sylvester's disguise.
"I should have offered him some tips. A mysterious Aspis leader would probably be wearing a dark cloak with a cowl covering their face. And, they wouldn't be so assuming and brash."
"We're the specialists Jenk sent for. Tell him Shadowtongue is here."
He glares at the thug leader.
At the sight of the badge, the thug leader turns a little pale. "Understood, sir. You'll be wantin' to see Boss Jenks, then. Inside that door, up to the second floor, office on the right."
The activity level in the main building is less physical than that outside, but is equally high. Once the party reaches Jenk's office, they find a snappish, sharp-nosed human in the elaborate finery of a merchant-prince. He's standing behind a desk strewn with ledgers and other papers, apparently doing his best to read several items at once. At your entrance he looks up. "Yes?"
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At the sight of the badge, the thug leader turns a little pale. "Understood, sir. You'll be wantin' to see Boss Jenks, then. Inside that door, up to the second floor, office on the right."
Merida tries to look like a gloomy and tough bodyguard, hand on her sword hilt, constantly scanning the surroundings for anything that could be a threat to Sylvester.
The activity level in the main building is less physical than that outside, but is equally high. Once the party reaches Jenk's office, they find a snappish, sharp-nosed human in the elaborate finery of a merchant-prince. He's standing behind a desk strewn with ledgers and other papers, apparently doing his best to read several items at once. At your entrance he looks up. "Yes?"
Merida quickly scans the room for threats, but otherwise remains silent - it's not her place to speak.
Jenks looks down at the sorcerer, then around at the rest of the party. "Badges*, please." His words are polite, but his tone is neutral.
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Sylvester flashes his slightly fancier bronze badge.
"Of course."
20 Bluff on a take 10.
@Merida - It is a reference to an old american movie where bandits were offered official badges to enforce the law. Obviously the bandits scoffed at the need for said badges.
@DM Carbide - Can others attempt to aid in the bluff check? They all have badges. :)
Something about Sylvester's manner puts the human at ease. He shakes the gnome's hand warmly. "You seem to be living up to your reputation, Master Shadowtongue. I hope your team has the mettle for the job, eh? Please--sit down." There are several chairs around the room, and he gestures for you to pull them over. He sits in an ornate chair behind the desk.
"As you've probably guessed from my summons, I've been having trouble with one of our contractors. To patch things up with them, I need to present them with some goodwill gifts. They want three religious items, one from each of the larger temples in Riddleport. Getting them might take some--what's the term? Coercive negotiation, that was it. Now, we are in the right, believe it or not. I had previously arranged to loan all three of the temples a considerable sum of money, and they're all overdue on their payments. I sent them formal requests for the items the Lissa--the contractor wants, that I would accept them in lieu of their regular payments, and that I would be sending agents over to collect them tonight. So it's a good thing you arrived when you did.
"You'll need to visit the Publican House to obtain a sacred mug, the House of the Silken Veil has a magic dagger you'll have to get, and--this may sound a little odd--there's a magical bicorne hat in the possession of Besmara's priests at the Fish Bowl. I don't care what order they come in, but I need all three of them tonight.
"Now, they might be reluctant to part with these items even though I've told them that they're what I want for debt payment. If--no, when you return with these three items, I'll grant you the opportunity to represent the Consortium when you deliver the gifts to the contractor.
"Any questions?"
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Corenthiir speaks up as he pulls up a chair.
"The Fish Bowl must be a temple to Besmara. What are these other places you mention? The Publican House and the Silken Veil place?"
"And, what if we run into some of those meddling Pathfinders? You know how they always like to disrupt our business plans."
He smirks.
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Sylvester turns to look at the Corenthllr shaking his head with a smile at the bard's outrageous imagination.
"Can we focus on real problems and not imagined ones? Keep your fantasies to yourself or better yet write them into a song or play. At least there is some profit in that."
The gnome raises a finger to emphasise a point.
"However you do bring up a salient point. We will need to know precisely where these temples are located and who we should be dealing with before we resort to ... coercive negotiation."
"A map and documents would be best but simple directions and explanations will do as well in a pinch. We do have a lot of ground to cover in just one night."
Jenk rummages around in his papers until he comes up with a town map . He quickly marks the locations of the three temples. "You'll have to speak with High Priestess Shorafa Pamodae at the House of the Silken Veil, High Publican Arnando Rolf at Publican House, and my sources tell me that all the senior Besmaran clerics are at sea. Talk to whoever will talk to you there. Any other questions before you get moving?"
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Corenthiir gives an apologetic look to his teammates.
"Noted. I won't make smart-alek remarks anymore."
He thinks to himself.
He then suddenly realizes something else.
"Wait a sec... 'coercive negotiation'? Like, roughing people up? Maybe even stealing the items? Ooh, no. This isn't good. I hope we can come up with better ways to aquire those items."
He leans forward to take the map from Jenk.
"Don't worry, sir. We'll get those items for you."