It's a lazy afternoon at Gray Falls Lodge. Not many Pathfinders are currently visiting the lodge located in the River Kingdoms, and the few who are staying for some amount of time are mainly holed up in their rooms, or out exploring the nearby wilderness, which is said to be inhabited by many fey.
At the moment the cafeteria is nearly desert and only a handful of customers are spending their time in the large room. Lazily one of the attendants of the lodge enters the room with a roll of paper and a hammer in his hands, and a nail pending from his lips; he approaches the large notice board on the wall and hangs the paper to it with a few thudding hits of the hammer. He then slowly goes back where he came from, yawning widely while reaching the doors.
The new notice is nothing flashy, but since all the other notes and bills hanged are asking for very menial tasks at best Pathfinders might find this new one at least interesting.
I recently came into possession of an ancient magical article which might prove of high interest for your Society. I'm also in need of a moderately large sum of gold, which I must acquire as soon as possible, so I'm willing to sell this item for a small percentage of its actual market price. It's not my first time dealing with Pathfinders, and this is why I trust you people with this information.
My name is Ulisha. If the name doesn't ring a bell—which would be a shame for you— maybe the name of the object I've discovered will: it's the Silverhex, an ancient druidic artefact. If your curiosity has been picked, then ask venture-captain Fyrewine for the rest of the information I've sent him within this letter.
Since I don't have much time to wait I've sent word of this "special deal" to other parties, the first to come to me with the amount of gold required will get the item. So don't waste time and be quick, okay?
---Ulisha
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A half-elf is sitting in the cafeteria, slowly drinking his, now, second drink for the day. Aside from casual look around the room from time to time, it seems that he is deep into his thoughts.
"It's this time of the year, it'll get better soon, I'm sure." He reaches for his right pocket and taps it. "Seems there is enough for few more days. But I will have to find something to do soon. It's been a two weeks since my last job and I have been running on my savings."
He reaches for his mug, but, it is empty. "Oh, darn it. I will take another one and then I'm done drinking for today." As he is going to get new drink, he notices that the board that he checked when he arrived now has a new notice on it. "Oh, please, let this be not another dull request. Fingers crossed."
He approaches the board and starts reading the notice posted.
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A rugged-looking man with long hair is huddled over a hot coffee seemingly enjoying the quiet lodge, contemplative and content. He's blowing on it and looking out of the window when the man comes in and posts the notice.
With a thud Stavarg drops from his tables bench and plods over to read the notice. He sips his coffee as he reads.
Ooh, this one is interesting. Finally!
He looks around the room to remember that he's talking to himself. So, he waits to see if more eager Pathfinders happen by.
After only two minutes he becomes impatient and heads to VC Fyrewine's office.
Surely others will come along soon, and they'll catch up with me in his office.
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A very gloomy dwarf next enters the cafeteria. His skin has a strange gray tint, and he does not wear a beard, only a long blond mustache (which would obviously be considered insanity among other dwarves). On his face, as well as on his hands, there are several strange tattoos of an obviously mystical kind. He approaches the ad, utters some profanity under his breath and goes to the Venture Capitan.
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Another dwarf arrives at the inn, a proper one with an exquisitely thick beard the color of forge fire and a head full of hair of the same color. He is clad in a combination of priest garb and armor. He adjusts his axe, almost the same size as himself, and grumbles looking at the inviting ale, but then shakes his head and walks forward to take a look at the notice board. His face falls as he goes through the quests.
As if these could be called quests, where are all the ones about heretics and blasphemers.
His eyes do gleam as he finds Ulisha's note however, and he at once takes off for this venture captain's cabin. Right after drinking three mugs of ale, twice.
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Molg sat to the side of the cafeteria eating his meal. A cup of ale on his right. On his left sat a sturdily built leather tome with the symbol of a hammer on it. It was opened at a section and the dwarf was reading as he ate.
The sound of a hammer caught his attention and he looked up to see a new notice attached to the notice board. A few get up and look at it. They seem to like what they saw and immediately head out. He nods his head. "Maybe I should do the same?" he thinks.
Molg closes the tome, cleans up his meal and walks to the notice board.
Well that sounds interesting. Again he nods his head, turns and heads to the Venture Captain's office. As he walks he thinks over the name of the person, Ulisha, and the Silverhex.
About Ulisha
About Silverhex
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With a brief walk upstairs and down the halls of the Lodge you reach the study of Ms. Firewyne. The door is ajar, and you can hear some strange, muffled sounds, like flapping of wings, and something more "arcane" in nature. You approach to open the door, but someone opens it for you just moments before: a pixie dressed in some kind of leaf waistcoat with a bow tie made of petals greets you with his shrill voice. You must be the one interested in Ulisha's note, right? That, or you're the delegation from the Five Kings Mountains we were expecting some twenty years ago. Plus a half-elven person, I imagine he's your valet or guide or something. Anyway, Ms. Firewyne was expecting you. For a long time, if you are indeed that delegation. Please take a seat, tea will be served soon.
The office is a messy, large library where everything is designed to accommodate creatures smaller than yourselves. Small stepladders, small chairs, a small desk filled with books that almost reach the roof, which is strangely high, like the room was initially two different rooms on different floors. The room is obviously filled with books, some strange magical contraptions, multi-colored plants, and there is an unclear number of tiny fey flying or jumping around, some dusting the shelves, some reading the tomes, some just vaguely roaming without an apparent aim. You hear some noises from behind the mountain of books on the desk, and from over that emerges the head of a middle aged gnome woman, with cherry-pink hair and bright blue eyes; she wears a pair of round, big eyeglasses which make her eyes look even bigger.
Oh, there you are! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? Almost twenty years! I've sent word to the Grand Lodge that I needed to talk with emissaries from the Five King Mountains so long time ago that now I don't even remember why I wanted to talk with you gentledwarves! And half-elf. Is it your guide? Yes, he probably is. The little woman climbs down the pile of tomes and stands on the edge of the desk, hands on her hips, with an expression halfway between annoyed and cheery. She's dressed with an oversized lilac-colored tunic embroidered with colorful flowers and stars needleworks. Anyway, if you'll excuse me I need to find my notes from two decades ago to remind why I sent for you to come here. It probably has to do with fey activities in your country, but better to be sure, don't want to send you home without asking all the questions I need answered and having to wait twenty more years to see an emissary of yours again.
She jumps down the desk and quickly walks toward one of the stepladders on the right. But please, take a seat, don't need to stay up while I search for my journal. Would you like some herbal tea? Mostel here makes a wonderful flower infusion with local ingredients, calming and energizing at the same time, I don't know how he does it, he won't tell me. She then calls for the pixie butler and asks him with a more gentle tone Oh Mostel, please take the large cups for our tall guests, wouldn't give them just a little sip of your tea. The little fey is in a corner of the room, using what seems a small magical stove with a larger teapot over it; the aroma coming from that part of the office is quite refreshing.
There are four small chairs around the room, which would fit a dwarf, but a taller humanoid would look pretty weird sitting on them.
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At the mention of a dwarven delegation, Stavarg frowns and looks at his kinsmen with a confused expression.
No no, we're here about Ulisha's note. Thank you, we will wait.
When they enter the office he cannot stop looking around at all of the active fey. He proceeds gingerly, thinking he's going to step into one of their flight paths.
No, no no no. We are no delegation from the Five King Mountains. We are just a random collection of Pathfinders interested in Ulisha's note.
Stavarg seems increasingly irritated at the assumption, especially given his dissociation from dwarven culture and society.
Yes... tea would be nice. He sighs and takes a seat in one of the four smaller chairs.
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A dwarf with slightly grayish skin (which absolutely instinctively causes rejection in all other dwarves) remained silent the first time the pixie mentioned the delegation. But the second time he couldn't stand it.
Blasted bloody fairies, gnomes and other stupid merry-makers! Do I look like a bloody ambassador? I'm here to earn a coin. Ulisha and 'at stuff. Let's get down to damn business already.
Having shouted enough, he with a dissatisfied look plops down on a chair with a flourish, from which his legs creak slightly.
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"What these fine gentlemen said. And I have to state the obvious, just in case, I am not a guide or valet." Eldorn replies. He looks around the room. Just being inside gives him a bit of weird feeling, like he's a giant in a regular person's room.
"So this is what being a giant feels like. Weird." Seeing the small chairs, he says "If you don't mind, I will stand. And yes, tea would be great."
Oh me oh my! says Ms. Firewyne with a rather dismayed look on her face, Of course you're not de delegation I was waiting, emissaries have certainly far better manners than you, Mr. Dwarf! she says facing Khon'Ur. The gnome makes an ample gesture with her arms and the many tomes on the desk fly away toward many empty spots on various shelves, and when the desk is finally clear she sits at the chair behind it and takes a note from a drawer.
So, you're here for Ulisha's notes. I was expecting you as well, yes, since this lodge is usually very quiet and tranquil it wouldn't take much time to find people interested in such a job. Meanwhile the pixie butler comes to you with a platter hovering over his head, five big cups on it, and a smaller one; the cups fly into your hands and on the desk, and a rather big teapot starts pouring tea in every cup. The scent is delightful. Here, Ms. Firewyne hands the note to the nearest of the group, that's the second and last part of her letter. I suggest you drink your tea and then hurry to wherever the note says Ulisha's hiding, it would be quite a shame if you missed the deal for being late, she takes her cup and takes a sip of tea, which is too hot and makes her cough a bit.
The letter you're holding in your hands contains just an address of a building in the city of Gralton, northwest of the Lodge. Find me here, bring 6,326 gold pieces and the artifact will be yours! is written in the same calligraphy of the note attached on the board in the cafeteria.
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"Well, we can always try to steal it, might be easier than forcing a fight... We should head there and hear what Ulisha has to say. And, yes, Ms. Firewyne, is there anything else we should know about either Ulisha or Silverhex?"
Eldorn scratches his head and continues. "To be honest, I have no idea what Silverhex is, but in absence of any decent job, this seamed as a good way to earn some gold."
Molg shakes his his head to clear the cobwebs. All this movement and flying around kept him transfixed. He barely heard the rest of the letter but knows they need to go to the address on the paper.
Yes, I know of Ulisha by name only but not much more than that. As Eldorn asked it would be good to know more of the Silverhex.
At the mention of a possible violent theft the venture-captain tone changes to an almost angry one I really hope you're jesting, Mr. dwarf! The Society would absolutely condemn such an action, especially against an useful asset such as Ulisha! Ms. Firewyne's loss of temper causes her to spill a good portion of the herbal infusion from the small cup in her hands. She clears her throat and after regaining a bit of composure gives you an answer to your questions Ulisha has been working with the Society for sometime, yes, but she's not part of it; not yet, at least. I don't know much about the Silverhex, I'm afraid, as I didn't had much time to make any accurate research. The only thing I can tell you is that the artifact is connected to very ancient druidic circles. Now if you gentlemen would excuse me I would return to my studies. I hope you all enjoyed Mostel's herbal tea, I wish you good luck in your dealings with Ulisha, and be sure to let me—or the Society—know how this business turns out, right?
On your way out of Ms. Firewyne's office Calvith Shane mutters something about the job not being worthy of his time, and as soon as you close the door behind you he bids you all farewell and makes his way back to his room.
"Well... ahh... that was rather abrupt."
He looks around at his companions trying to recall what he knows about Gralton.
"It looks like our next move is to travel to Gralton."
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The travel to Gralton is quite uneventful: you spend almost two days on a ship on the Sellen River, then a bit more than three days on a modest carriage to reach the city. The trip was arranged with the Society's services, so you didn't had to pay anything for it.
The city's small, but enough populated to make it quite bustling. It doesn't take you much time to find the meeting place written on the note, it's a small building in the bad part of a town that's already unpleasant per se, a place which rents small rooms to travelers stopping in Gralton for only Gods know why. The fat old woman at the reception tells you Ulisha's room number without asking any question, but she warns you not to bring trouble to her business in a quite unpleasant tone.
The room is on the second floor of the building, all the way down at the end of the corridor. When you get there you knock on the door, but no answer comes from inside. You try to twist the doorknob, and it isn't locked, so you open the door and enter the rather squalid room. There isn't much in here, just a bed, a table, and a chair. Ulisha's clearly not here. Nothing seems off in the room, nothing but a small book on the table, which looks a bit too nice to be part of the room.
The book is a small leather-bound journal with some inlays on the cover which spell the name "Ulisha" in fancy fonts. You skim quickly through its content, it seem to describe the latest adventures of the half-orc throughout the River Kingdoms. There are some excerpts more interesting than others, which may put you on the right path to find the adventurer and talk about this famed Silverex.
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Maybe she's just out for a bit and didn't expect such a quick response to her job posting... Stavarg offers hopefully.
He flips through the journal reading the key passages. Towards the end he sighs heavily.
Or... she's in one of these six places. I suppose it's prudent to check the last one first. He frowns at the situation implied by the journal entries.
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You can't trust the damn half-orcs! Who does business like that? Damn half-wits. Ugh!
Flipping through the diary, Khon'Ur mutters something dissatisfied under his breath and then says:
Ulisha could be in any of 'ese places! I suggest we start with the mausoleum. Either Ulisha or the undead will be 'ere. If 'is cretin doesn't turn out to be 'ere, then we'd like to unclench our fists and let off steam.
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After rereading the journal entries Molg has an idea.
"In the entries there are things things that stand out immediately to me. First in the Silverhex entry it says she's laying low in a nearby hideout and in the Mists entry she mentions choosing a spot to hide items in a place no one would want to go. Could her hideout be in such a place?"
"Also, it seems in the last entry she was speaking directly to us. As if she knew we would read this entry. In other entries it sounds like she's talking to someone. Does anyone else get that feeling?"
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Stavarg emits a low growl at the journal.
No dates... great. I guess it doesn't matter what order we explore them in then.
Hearing Molg's impression he re-reads the entries.
Now that you mention it, it does seem that way. It's more like, she had a transaction pre-arranged with somebody who was expected to read this. Or maybe this is a letter she meant to send and stuffed it in here?
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"May I look into these?" Eldorn waits for everyone else to finish reading, then he takes nodes and reads their content.
Hearing what he's companions have to say, he can only agree that there is something weird about last note. "This last message suggests that we should soon meet her and complete the transaction, meaning it is either meant for someone in particular, who might or might not already been here, and also, we do not know where else Ulisha sent a note regarding Silverhex, but it might be that is referring to anyone who was going to come and try and make easy money on Silverhex."
"We could check with woman on the reception when was the last time she saw Ulisha?" Eldorn approaches the door, he opens them a bit and takes a peek, just to be sure there is no one around. "Let's take a look around the room, we might find something that could point to the place of her hiding, or any other useful clue." He looks under the bed, turns pillows, under the mattress and checks for drawers on the table.
There's nothing amiss in the room, the bed hides nothing and the table has no hidden drawers; even under the chair there's nothing strange. In fact the most unusual thing is that it seems that no one used this room for at least a couple days. Everything is in order, beside the journal.