You are in Absalom, the mighty City at the Center of the World.
For some of you the training to become a Pathfinder has just ended ... some of you already had their first missions.
You have heard rumors that the Pathfinder Society is stretched thin at the moment and that junior Pathfinders are asked to complete more dangerous missions than usual.
You always knew that you would be continuously asked to explore one of the countless ruins that litter the plains outside the city’s walls on Golarion. Some of your colleagues have the opinion that this is the best way to start a life of excitement and adventure ... by exploring long-abandoned, dusty halls and perhaps claiming its ancient treasures but what about you?
* * * * *
You have been chosen to be part of the Pathfinder group that will leave to travel to Highdelve on a critical mission for the society.
You are led through the Great Hall of Skyreach past a large table with a shifting illusionary Inner Sea map on its massive surface. Standing around the Hall are dozens of pathfinders of various races exchanging stories of their exploits.
You are directed towards a smaller meeting room, past an ornate fountain with crystal clear water. You can feel the chill from the cascading droplets as some splash you on their decent to the pool.
The placard before the room reads, “The Pipeweed Nook”. Opening the door you see a long table, chairs.
You enter with the other Pathfinders but are still waiting for the Venture-Captain to arrive and give you the final briefing before you travel to Highdelve.
Into the room strides a powerfully built dwarf carrying an impressive array of weapons. He surveys his surrounding before addressing any pathfinders who are present. "Good morning everyone, I'm Torgen, nice to meet you.". He shakes everyone's hand before sitting down in a nearby chair.
"So I hear we're off to Highdelve. That's a long way from here but, it's an area I know, what with being a local Brevoy lad. It's good to have the opportunity to head back that way after spending all this time down in Absalom."
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An old Garundi man in a turban is sipping his tea at the table. He bows his head toward the newly arrived dwarf to greet him. Good day Mr. Torgen he says, his voice calm and warm, I go by the name of Belayneh, and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.
Please, take a sit with us he says, moving a chair to let the dwarf sit down at the table, May I suggest to try the minty tea? It's not as good as the one I'm used to back in my homeland, but it's still quite refreshing.
I have to say, I'm quite interested in this trip north. I've never been at such latitudes in my life, that's part of the reason I've joined the Society at such an advanced age. How is Brevoy? I've heard is a land of chivalrous people, is that true?
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A Varisian man with a lengthy mustache arrives, looking over the place as if expecting some small creature to be scurrying up a wall or hiding within some decorative fringe. He gives the room a sniff. He gently strokes the end of his mustache and then nods approvingly.
"Seems alright," he concludes. He glances at the agents assembled. "So, you are the others the Venture-Captain sent for? Highdelve must be some place to warrant such a diverse group, eh?"
"Brevoy is a fine place. I'm from Port Ice myself, but my family originally hail from nearer to Highdelve up in the Golushkin Mountains."
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A shy but exotic looking young woman with red hair and a tattoo of a mountain lion on the nape of her neck approaches. She is dressed in typical monastery attire however the obvious softness of her body as well as her abundantly long hair and her robust curves makes it seem unlikely that she is an active practitioner of the martial arts.
She looks around timidly.
"Hi there. I am ... em...Grilgoth."
She blushes profusely and then sits down and begins to talk softly to her pet cockroach in a strange language. It is unclear if the insect could possibly understand her and yet the creature's eyes sparkle with unusual intelligence as it calmly examines the other adventurers.
@GM Nowruz - Outside of safe social situations Grilgoth's familiar will be in his familiar satchel so clearly the Alertness bonus will not apply. A witch losing her familiar is a devastating loss.
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"Brevoy is a fine place. I'm from Port Ice myself, but my family originally hail from nearer to Highdelve up in the Golushkin Mountains."
A handsome, well dressed half-elf enters, looking as though were it anywhere else, he probably would detect for evil. It looks like he has 6 daggers with him, and an extremely ornate silver bracer at his right wrist.
"Well met colleagues! My name is Evindyll of Kyonin, a paladin in service to Yuelral. I have to say that I am fascinated by the idea of traveling north of Iadara; as a child, I was always focused south of our borders, on the scourge of the Tanglebriar certainly, but also on coming here to Absalom. I will be interested to see our route once we plan it, it would be nice to stop at the temple if I could. My only impression of Brevoy is listening to my parents talk of politics."
The door opens and you see the renowned Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng enter the meeting room.
He looks as if he did not have much sleep as he has a sleepy-eyed look on his face.
He has a violin and a meerschaum pipe in his hand and sets it on the table. He withdraws a small pouch from the slipper and opening it, removes some shag tobacco. He begins to pack the pipe with the tobacco before removing a hot poker from a fireplace in the room, touching it to the pipe bowl, and drawing on the pipe until the contents kindle an ember.
He stands eyeing the assembled group and puffing on the pipe for a long few moments before speaking.
"Well, well, so you are the team they sent here for this mission?! You look tough but are you the right people for this mission? You already heard that we are sending you to Highdelve, right?" he says with a stern look.
"First missions are usually less dangerous but our informant's reasons to ask for a team as well as the nature of the assignment were a little vague ..."
He eyes you again.
"I called you in tonight to discuss a problem I need you to solve." he says as clouds of pipe smoke drift lazily around his head.
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Belayneh listens quietly at the Venture-Captain. He's never been so far north and he's quite excited about this. He joined the Society only recently despite his mature age, and part of this decision was being able to travel to places distant from his own homeland, Osirion.
Please, esteemed Venture-Captain, says the old man when Dreng pauses, explain to us what are our tasks in this mission. From how you talk about this seems we will face something quite complicated.
Dreng nods at Belayneh.
"Well Belayneh, more than two centuries ago, the humans of House Garess flourished in the foothills of the Golushkin Mountains in western Brevoy, where they founded Highdelve as a settlement of human artisans to work the dwarven ore their allies supplied. However, as the years went on, House Garess’s numbers waned, and the noble family scaled its business back. By this time, thousands inhabited Highdelve."
He looks at you to see if you are still listening.
"Rather than languish under House Garess’s neglect, the Highdelvers began to focus on self-sufficiency. It built a robust economy and 50 years ago, the leaders of highdelve approached the patriarch of House Garess in Grayhaven roughly 20 miles south. It wasn’t full independence Highdelve wanted as much as a release from any major taxes and military duties the town might owe its feudal overlords. Not in the position to fight the Highdelvers, House Garess acquiesced. From that day, Highdelve has been independent in everything but the strictest formalities."
He pauses for a moment.
"Have you ever heard of Aurelliax?" he asks.
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Being so far north, winters are long and harsh. The short spring and summer seasons require the populace to farm and fish just enough to keep food on the table.
* * * Separate check * * *
You have heard the stories of Highdelve's history in more detail ... what the Highdelvers didn’t know, however, is that benevolent eyes had been watching the situation that the Venture-Captain described unfold.
The settlement piqued the interest of Aurelliax, a gold dragon who had lived for more than a century in a mountaintop lair near Highdelve.
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The dragon admired the town’s tenacity, and its people’s generosity toward their neighbors warmed her kind heart. Shortly after Highdelve broke from House Garess, Aurelliax offer the humans her patronage and protection for free.
Elated and humbled, the townspeople accepted—provided that Aurelliax never involved herself in the settlement’s internal affairs. After all, the Highdelvers did not wish to simply trade one overlord for another. Her motivations genuine and pure, Aurelliax assented.
For the Highdelvers’ part, awe for Aurelliax quickly turned into true affection, as the dragon time and again has demonstrated her dedication to this settlement of about 4,500.
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Grilgoth knows of course about the history of Brevoy but then again that should be common knowledge for anyone with any wits at all.
She thinks a bit harder about the Highdelve. While this sort of knowledge is not her speciality she does have a bit of grounding. Her mind focuses for a moment as she calls out to an unknown and unnamed source for inspiration (Guidance spell cast).
She nods in response to Drandle Dreng's question.
"Right, a gold dragon that lived for over a century near Highdelve and offered them her protection."
"Of course if you would like to add to our knowledge that would be appreciated."
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"A dragon protects the town? Then, for what kind of problem would you need our help solving?" Fascili inquires, a look of confusion on his face.
"While unlikely that the Venture-Captain brought us here to play a guessing game, he might certainly want to gauge our intuition and saavy: with nothing other than the town, a dragon, and politics on the table currently, I would wager that one or both of Highdelve's standing agreements is about to change. THAT would most certainly be quite a problem to solve."
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As the Venture-Captain is speaking, yet another figure hustles into the room, in travel-length gray and brown robes, with a large brimmed hat with a pale blue feather. He pauses, almost comically, seeing that everyone else has already arrived, and blinks.
Then sighs. And then quietly makes his way to one of the vacant chairs, limping slightly with a cane.
Ahberanth makes a small, quiet cough at the mention of the gold dragon, but says nothing.
Torgen decides it would be best stay quiet rather than admit to his lack of knowledge regarding his own homeland. But he listens to the conversation with interest.
Dreng raises an eyebrow.
"Good insights and good questions. Aurelliax is a gold dragon who had lived for more than a century in a mountaintop lair near Highdelve and the dragon time and again has demonstrated her dedication to this settlement of about 4,500."
He pauses again.
"I do not want to go into the details of why a gold dragon would do that but I can assure you that we had a hand in that story. This was just background information because your mission actually concerns two kids. Well, they are young adults by now. RICHELLE AND TOLWIN are their names. They are not related but they are the kids of two deceased Pathfinders. We placed them under the protection of the mayor of Highdelve 17 summers ago - Winette Qarl is her name."
The Venture-Captain sighs and looks at his feet.
"We received a message that they are misbehaving. I have to admit that this mission is personal for me and I want you to check on them. They know nothing about their parents' history but if you can find out what is going on I would appreciate that."
He looks back into your eyes again and smokes his pipe, sending smoke into the air.
"Of course we would never send you to Highdelve just because of two kids ... this is just a coincidence that I am using to my own benefit." he laughs.
"During one of our other missions we learned of a plot againt Aurelliax. We do not know the details but we know that an agent of a cult of Kostchtchie, Gilda Korgren, traveled to Highdelve more than a year ago to craft a ring with special significance to the cult of Kostchtchie ... additionally, we learned about a Port Ice–based shipping company that is trying to track cargo that went missing between the port and Silverhall in southern Brevoy. We do know that the cargo included several Thassilonian relics that could also be of value to the Kostchtchie worshipper."
Born a mortal man of Ulfen stock before being cursed, Kostchtchie is now the demon lord of giants and biting cold.
Kostchtchie's main worshipers are giants who have turned from the worship of their traditional deities, particularly Thremyr, and instead embraced the demonic as being a more aggressive philosophy.
Dreng stops pacing long enough to knock some of the ashes out of his pipe and reload it with more tobacco.
"Go to Highdelve and see what you can find out!"
”Of course. “ says Torgen as he continues to feel somewhat embarrassed at his lack of knowledge.
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Taking care of the young ones is important, much more if they've been orphaned by the whims of destiny says the old Garundi man. He puts his hand on the shoulder of the Venture-Captain Don't be afraid, esteemed Sir Dreng, we will take care of the two younglings.
Problems with evil cults are always serious problems. Belayneh stops for a moment, pondering something, smoothing his white beard I've heard about Kostchtchie, but I can't quite recall anything specific at this time. Maybe the voyage North will awaken my memories.
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Grilgoth again focuses her mind and calls forth aid (Guidance) to see if she remembers anything about the cult of Kostchtchie. She feels that she is close but the knowledge seems to slip away.
@GM Nowruz - Is it time for the travel montage to Highdelve? I am assuming that the society is taking care of the travel arrangements otherwise my character will start using her Craft (Ships) skill (untrained 15 on a take 10) to start building a raft. ;)
He looks at Belayneh and then the whole group and tries to assess your level of comfort with this mission and continues.
"This is one of your first mission so be careful. Please make haste and travel to Highdelve."
With those words he turns his attention away from you, picks his violin up, opens the door and begins playing and walking out of the room simultaneously.
**
HIGHDELVE
It’s late when your caravan arrives in Highdelve.
Most of the travelers are only stopping for dinner before proceeding on to the next town, but you have a mission here, and so you remain when the wagons pull out again.
When you get to the inn you find it unusually crowded. The innkeeper only has one room available, what with the festival tomorrow.
If you’re willing to share, however, she has some cots she can set up and there should be room enough for the four of you. As you walk down into the common room for dinner, you find it, too, is more crowded than you would expect.
A four-top comes open right as you walk in, though, and almost as soon as you sit the waiter comes by with bowls of stew and mugs of ale for the four of you. You eat and have a chance to get to know your new comrades on this mission.
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Grilgoth feels that it will be even more crowded than the inn-keeper has anticipated with their party being six strong. She shrugs being accustomed to sleeping outside at times so even sleeping on a warm indoor floor suits her well. Her familiar is safely stored away in his protective satchel.
At the table she slides in where she can fit and nibbles at her food.
She keeps her voice low, while it is not exactly secret she does not want to advertise their mission.
"Perhaps we should participate in the festival tomorrow? We are not pressed for time and perhaps fortune might smile us on as provide some inkling about what is going on in this town."
The witch thinks for a moment about what the festival is all about.
16 on a K-Local to know about the festival.
Torgen is delighted at the prospect of some traditional Brevoy fare after all this time away from home.
He sits down at the table and nods in agreement with Grilgoth.
"Yes, the festival would give us a good opportunity to start feeling out the lay of the land." he say in similarly hushed tones.
"The way I see it we have a few leads to start looking into. First there's those kids, then there's the individual who crafted the ring and then lastly there's that missing shipment."
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Belayneh sits down at the table with his companions. When the waitress brings him food and drink he politely asks for a cup of water in place of the ale.
It is a good idea to partake with the festivities, he says while eating his stew, there we can find the two younglings the Venture-Captain was talking about. And I think it will be a good place to gather some more information about the recent events, if not by asking directly we could always keep our ears open for rumors.
As he finishes his meal the old man relaxes a bit and tries to make a bit of conversation with his table companions So, esteemed colleagues, what can you tell us about yourself? One thing I like to do before a task is to know my associates better, I think it strengthens the bond of cooperation between us.
He takes a sip from his cup, My name is Belayneh, of Clan Babi. I come from the Osirion, Land of the Pharaohs, and I'm an humble cleric of the Gray Lady. I have joined the Society only recently, despite my old age, to get the chance to travel the world and bring good to other people.
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"Always good to be on the road," notes Fascili. He glances at the large crowds, "though it seems a lot of others had the same idea."
The Desnan shrugs at the prospect when told that only one room is available. "The more, the merrier, I suppose. Don't mind the extra company as I plan to be dreaming regardless."
At dinner time, Fascili seems to relish sampling the local foods and stews, taking his time in chewing and swallowing so to ensure his pallet is introduces to the full range of available flavors.
"With so many people around, the festival does seem like a good place to find someone missing or at least potential leads," the inquisitor agrees.
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"Always good to be on the road," notes Fascili. He glances at the large crowds, "though it seems a lot of others had the same idea."
The Desnan shrugs at the prospect when told that only one room is available. "The more, the merrier, I suppose. Don't mind the extra company as I plan to be dreaming regardless."
At dinner time, Fascili seems to relish sampling the local foods and stews, taking his time in chewing and swallowing so to ensure his pallet is introduces to the full range of available flavors.
"With so many people around, the festival does seem like a good place to find someone missing or at least potential leads," the inquisitor agrees.
"It is also the most likely place for us to be able to meet and interact with the parents, as they too will probably be using the crowd and travelers to find information." Evin smiles, "I feel like there is a Desnan phrase about 'the truest friend is a friend who will watch over your dreams' and I would be glad of your company once again this night. I am not a stranger to hardships though, and I am also more than willing to sleep in a corner of the stable if needed."
What ist he Brightbloom Jubilee?
During the first evening and your first hour you learn that the Brightbloom Jubilee is a 2-day party with a distinct structure of events.
Before the jubilee, the town elects two young locals to serve as Bloomgivers — an enormous honor for those chosen. Early on the celebration’s first day, the Bloomgivers venture with an empty wagon up nearby Dendra’s Slope, where the largest field of brightblooms grows.
The jubilee then runs throughout the day, and it includes a full slate of amusements, games, and festive street food, all set up in the town’s main Protectress Square.
In the afternoon, the Bloomgivers return to town with the first harvest of brightblooms, and the townspeople fete the youths’ journey by escorting them from the gates back to Protectress Square.
There, the Bloomgivers hand out brightblooms to eager townspeople. The rest of the evening is spent as a public dance party known as the Brightbloom Ball. The jubilee’s second day is spent alternately removing winterizing measures from the town’s buildings and breaking into spontaneous rounds of song and dance.
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The mood is festive in the inn as the evening progresses. Eventually, weary from your travel, you head to bed.
The sun rises, and after a quiet breakfast, you emerge out into the town square. Beams of sunlight stream past the snow-capped mountains as a joyous scene spreads before you.
Overnight, the town's staid and utilitarian main square sprouted colorful tents, a pop-up theater, a spinning contraption made of barrel bottoms, some manner of race course, and more unexpected delights.
Laughter and boisterous shouts echo from all the square's corners as its quaint cobblestone streets teem with villagers sporting festive clothes and wide smiles.
Throughout it all, the smell of fried foods weaves through air laced with the warmth of a summer that's just begun.
Activities in view:
A1. Youths stand on and around tall wooden storage boxes, playing some sort of game.
A2. Lanes have been drawn and sack races are being run.
A3. A large, gilt statue of a dragon.
A4. A Barrel-Go-Round ride has been erected.
A5. A small puppet theater has gathered a crowd.
A6. A stand sells delicious-smelling fried food on sticks.
Torgen rubs his eyes as he exits from the inn into the bright morning sunlight.
"Well this all looks like fun." he says, surveying the scene before him and weighing up his options.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd be interested in having a chat with those kids over there. Maybe they will know where we can find Ricelle and Tolwin, plus I'd like to take a closer look at those boxes, on the off chance that they could be linked to that shipment we were told about."
Taking a bite out of the apple he'd saved from breakfast he heads off in the direction of the storage boxes.
Several well-dressed professionals stand in a circle bandying about the lingo of seasoned traders. “What a time to be visiting!” one shouts.
“It’s the best time to catch important people in one place. If you’ve any business to conduct in Highdelve, now’s the time for it, to be sure!”
* * *
A teenage boy pushes through the crowd with a star-struck look on his face.
“Have you seen her? Have you seen Aurelliax? You know, the gold dragon! The one who keeps the whole town safe! She’s here, but she never stays in one place for long. Everyone wants to talk to her, and she’s so nice—she wants to spend time with us all!”
For the past decade or so, the people of Highdelve have expressed some concern about sending their youthful Bloomgivers up Dendra’s Slope to collect brightblooms for several hours alone.
The brightbloom field is about an hour’s hike from the town proper, and the foothills are full of threats.
To quell their qualms, and to reinforce that Aurelliax would never suffer an outside threat to the town, the gold dragon has begun lending the Bloomgivers a special amulet called the Golden Pendant each year for their journey up the slope.
Not even the gold dragon has elaborated on exactly what the amulet can do, and she’s instructed the townspeople not to bother examining it much magically, but everyone knows that it’s a treasure that would make Abadar himself proud.
Two elderly women watch a group of adolescents giggle and shoot furtive glances toward the square’s western entrance.
“It warms this old granny’s heart to see those sweet kids,” one of the women says. “So young! So much energy! They just can’t wait for the Bloomgivers to come back from Dendra’s Slope so they can celebrate. But I wonder what’s keeping those Bloomgivers? They’ve usually returned by now!”
A1. Youths on crates
Torgen arrives at the storage boxes.
Tall wooden storage boxes are haphazardly arranged everywhere here except for a grouping of four, which form a diamond.
Rowdy youths pump their fists and cheer on four kids who each stand atop one of these boxes. The standing youths kick a bean-filled sack back and forth.
Each time a youth kicks the sack, they all shout a word of the following phrase: "The! Devil! Man! Knocks! Don' t! Let! Him! In!"
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Belayneh spends some time asking around politely about the two issues the group is investigating.
It seems that we may have the chance to meet with the draconic patron of this village says Belayneh coming back to the group after his inquiries, also the most important people in town is gathering for the festivities, so we could ask some more specific questions to those in charge.
In the past years the two younglings tasked with the Brightbloom gathering have been gifted a magical amulet from the dragon protector, to keep them safe while out alone, but it seems that this year they are somewhat late, they should have returned with their cargo of flowers by now. The old man is a bit pensive, after a pause he asks Should we look for these two Bloomgivers? Or for Dreng's younglings?
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Grilgoth knows quite a bit from her studies (16 on K-local on a take 10) but it would seem like Belayneth's investigation has yielded even more results.
She is quiet and perhaps a bit apprehensive in such a big crowd of people but a thought does occur to her.
"Is it possible that the two Bloomgivers are the two youths that Dreng has mentioned? It would seem serendipitous for that to be the case."
Torgen joins the group watching the game on the boxes. He turns to catch the eye of one of the bystanders.
”This looks like a lot of fun, what are the rules?” he enquires.
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"Is it possible that the two Bloomgivers are the two youths that Dreng has mentioned? It would seem serendipitous for that to be the case."
I thought about that too, Miss Grilgoth, says Belayneh stroking his white beard, but Mister Dreng said that the two were misbehaving, and from what I've understood the role of Bloomgivers is something reserved for the most notable youths of the village.
Even so, they may have given them the role just because they're the Major's protegeé, or to give them a chance to do good. Excuse me one second, esteemed colleagues.
Belayneh parts from the party and tries to find the two old ladies who were talking about the lateness of the Bloomgivers (ora anyone who's currently talking about that), and asks them if they know the names of the two younglings appointed with the task.
The two ladies are talking when the gentle Garundi man appears and of course they are eager to chat.
"Kameer and Kara are the Bloomgivers of course! But what a scandal we had this year!" she says rolling her eyes.
The other lady nods, ”Well ... Richelle and Tolwin cheated!" the white haired woman says silently. You see that the other woman reacts harshly and says a little louder than she she should: "You know that they rigged the bloomgivers election and therefore are not allowed to attend the festival. This discussion is over young man ... you spoiled my mood!" she says and apologetically the other woman follows.
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Mmm, what should we do now? Belayneh asks his companions, Should we go after Richelle and Tolwin, or check that the Bloomgivers are fine?
His face turns pensieve again I really hope Richelle and Tolwin are not troubling the Bloomgivers, he says stroking his beard, after all they tried to rig the election...
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Grilgoth raises an eye brow at the cleric's comments.
"We have not heard the children's side of the story to see if there is any veracity to the claim of a rigged election."
"That woman seemed awfully upset, perhaps too upset. I bet there is more going on here than we realise."
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You are right, esteemed Grilgoth says the old cleric, I should have chosen my words more wisely. I did not want to to be the judge who condemns the two younglings, as you have said we have not yet heard their part of the story. Please, accept my apologies and thanks, you have made an old man wiser today. He bows to his companion, sincerely grateful for her remark.
[dice= Knowledge (local)]1d20+1
Torgen joins the group watching the game on the boxes. He turns to catch the eye of one of the bystanders.
”This looks like a lot of fun, what are the rules?” he enquires.
[dice=Perception]1d20+2
A kid approaches Torgen.
"Hey you, you wanna play? Hmm … aren’t you too old?!"
One of the kids hops down from their box and offers you a spot in the game. The boxes seem fine to Torgen.
Two youths are laughing, though there’s a bit of fear evident in their eyes.
“We all saw him; he had skin as pale as a sheet and these freaky little horns!” a girl says.
“He was skulking around until the watch came and scared him away. Now people pretend like he was never here—don’t want to scare away visitors, I guess. Oops!”
”Why not.” says Torgen, striding up to the box. ”Im still young for a dwarf, I guess the beard just makes me look older.”
He pulls himself up onto the recently vacated box.
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Belayneh approaches the group of youths to inform Torgen of his findings, but he stops for a moment to watch the kids playing their game, kind of amused and intrigued by it.
The old man turns his eyes on the crates, remembering they're also looking for a lost cargo, and checks if any of them look suspicious.
The crates are old and after looking more thoroughly you realize that they are empty.