Your trip to Magnimar was mostly uneventful, and the letter included clear directions to Heidmarch Manor; it was not difficult to find. Located in the Alabaster District of the city, the Heidmarch family must be wealthy and prosperous indeed.
You assemble in the Grand Courtyard of the manor, and find a large contingent of other Pathfinders already there, with other constantly arriving as you begin to mingle. Eventually, your are sorted into small groups, and find yourself awaiting news of what brought you here with five other curious Pathfinders.
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The first to sit at the small-group table is a rugged looking man with long, brown hair. Currently it's tied back, but more notably his face is painted completely white, and marked with black "skull" accents around his eyes and cheekbones.
So... who's ready for this? I hear it's going to be exhilarating.
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And here he was. Seltyel observed the magnificent courtyard. Certainly this people seemed to have much more money than his family. Leaving behind his thoughts about his family in Taldor and his time of service with the watch of Cassomir, he could not help but to wonder what the mission would be. Being in a city such as Magnimar made him feel like at home.
The half-elf greeted his companions politely. He carried a long sword and a big shield, but he expected that using them would not be necessary in this mission. At least for the moment.
Greetings. My name is Seltyel. I wonder what is going on. I have never seen so many Pathfinders together.
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A massive Shoanti wanders over, introducing himself, I am Kalak Sunrunner of the Sklar-Quah he rests as massive earthbreaker on the ground as he comes to rest. And this is Cinderdancer he points to a tatooed Shoanti horse standing behind him.
Hearing Seltyiel's question, he remarks, This is a good omen, many gathered in one place, not Absolom. I think we are where the spirits intend us to be.
At the request of hosts Canayven and Sheila Heidmarch, you have been invited to attend a private meeting at Heidmarch Manor. A large number of your fellow Pathfinders have clearly also been given a similar invitation, however the appearance of Sheila Heidmarch suggests all is about to be made clear. She calls for your attention, and as the noise dies down she begins to speak.
”Dear friends, welcome to Magnimar and the newest Pathfinder Lodge—Heidmarch Manor. For those of you who do not yet know me, my name is Sheila Heidmarch—venture-captain of Magnimar. This lodge is also my home, which I share with my husband Canayven. While we are far from the comforts of the Grand Lodge at Absalom, we shall do our best to accommodate you with our humble Varisian hospitalities. My husband and I both spent many years in the field, so we know well what you do and appreciate that you have answered our summons. We are both extremely grateful to receive you and your support.”
”As you well know, Heidmarch Manor is a new lodge. Presently it is funded almost entirely from my own resources. Although I adore Magnimar, we have as many enemies here as friends. This being the case, I seek to court the favor of more powerful allies, specifically members of the Council of Ushers and the Office of the Lord Mayor.”
”This brings the conversation to our current situation. On one of their more recent salvage runs, the wondrous artificers of the Golemworks uncovered a strange relic while dredging stone from the bottom of Magnimar’s harbor. The relic appears to be some sort of a giant key, etched with ancient Thassilonian runes that their learned arcanists speculate may even predate the coming of the mysterious runelords. Because the key falls outside their area of expertise, the Golemworks donated the curious artifact to the Office of the Lord Mayor. In turn, the Lord Mayor intends to auction off the key to the highest bidder in short order, to fund municipal projects. The auction will be run by the Cathedral of Abadar, gold in hand—meaning immediately after the final bid is accepted, the bidder must pay for his prize in full.”
”We want the key. However, we want it legally. Our establishment in Magnimar is relatively new and our footing tenuous. We need to secure more stable political relationships with the Lord Mayor’s office and the Council of Ushers to ensure the Society’s long term success in this city; especially since the Aspis Consortium already has such a strong foothold here. The legitimate purchase of the Runecarved Key from the local authorities would demonstrate our respect for the city’s government, which would go a long way toward improving our public image with these people.”
”That said, we can greatly increase our chances of winning the auction by persuading our competition to back out. While there are some we believe we can outbid, we are a new lodge with far fewer funds than many. Thus, we must find out who else is interested in the key, how much they can bid, and whether or not we can knock them out of the auction.”
”To assure our success, our espionage must be extensive. Therefore we have divided the task between our agents. While division stands to place field operatives in greater danger, we cannot risk revealing ourselves by working en masse. If you are discovered, we will disavow any association with you. We cannot aid you if you get arrested or fall into the clutches of the enemies of our Society. While this is unfortunate, I hope you can understand our position.”
”For now, please make yourselves at home. We have provided accommodations for each of your groups. Feel free to drop off your things and prepare yourselves. Then meet me in the manor’s theater in five minutes.”
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A panicked voice can be heard, from behind.
Tarka sorry for being late!
When looking around, all that can be seen are some floating Items, behind a bush. It isn’t until they move closer that you notice that they are actually a translucent, green and black kobold, running towards the group.
Tarka *huff* is sorry for being late! Tarka try not be late, again! *wheeze* Tarka is Tarka the ghost kobold gunslinger! At your service!
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Thanks greatly, Stavag! Tarka hope we can resolve auction safely. If not, Ghost Kobold Powers means great sniping!
Tarka calms down, then asks a direct question: Think we can drink? People talk best to Tarka when drunk! Lips become looser, that way! That, or while playing cards. Or doing both, at once!
Even before the venture-captain arrives, the theater in Heidmarch Manor is crammed with Pathfinders. Heidmarch enters quietly, then slips through the crowd, takes the stage, and speaks.
”Tonight, the Council of Ushers is sponsoring a pre-auction gala, to be hosted at the Cathedral of Abadar. During the party, the auctioneers intend to display the Runecarved Key in order to entice potential bidders. Anyone serious about entering the auction will be required to place a deposit of ten thousand gold coins in an escrow account at the cathedral.”
”We need you to attend this event, both to submit our deposit as well as to determine who else might be interested in the key. While most of those attending received invitations, the event is semi-private and open to anyone with enough money to place serious bids. While the city provided me with an invitation, my appearance would give our many enemies cause for suspicion. For this reason, I ask that all of you go in my stead, and enter as my proxies. Still, we do not want our enemies to speculate on our own intentions. For this reason, you must keep a low profile and avoid seeming too eager about the key. Each of you will be given a portion of the full deposit to take to the temple to present to Proctor Imikar.”
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A number of casually dressed servants filter through the groups of Pathfinders, each handing over a strongbox containing their portion of the stake for bidding; a tattooed Shoanti hands you yours before the various groups are ushered out and given directions to the Temple of Abadar.
You find it in good time; the many Pathfinders follow make the short walk easy.
The various Pathfinder groups filter in with a steady stream of guests. You ascend the stairs and enter the cathedral’s main sanctuary, where the viewing is being held. Rows of paladins donning white tabards stitched with the golden key of Abadar flank the main entrance. Their hands clench tightly around their gleaming swords as they stand almost motionless, ever-vigilant stares upon their faces.
Various low-level priests greet you as you join the crowd in the main chamber, and invite you to partake in food and beverages while you mingle about.
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Seltyel takes his bid of the share in silence. Then follows the rest of his team to the cathedral.
Let us hope that we do not have to speak to any noble. We do not seem to be very richly dressed and certainly some of them would prefer to spit on us rather than saying a single word.
When he arrives in the cathedral, he stops to stare at the paladins of Abadar, his deity. The image of the rows of faithful servants radiates perfection and Seltyel cannot help but wondering what would it be like to be one of them. After that, the half-elf enters the magnificent building, greets the priests back and grabs a drink while starts to study the people that are attending.
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A very gloomy dwarf catches up with you before entering the Cathedral. 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 is a little out of breath and swears softly under his breath.
Eh. The damn cabs delivered me later than I had planned. The way from bloody River Kingdoms was not close... Bah! Stavarg it's ye. Familiar faces! He shakes hands with the dwarf and then everyone else, then he spits on the ground with gusto, swears again and introduces himself. Khon'Ur. I break faces and say prayers. I don't know what the hell I'm doing on this particular mission. But let's try and see what happens. As a last resort, we'll kill 'em all and steal damn key! Bhahah! He looks around the entrance to the building. Bloody stuffy dull Abadar... (further grumbling is inarticulate).
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Some nobles find Tarka at the bar, and begin talking to her. Nervously, she politely talks to them. Eventually, one of them asks her her name, and where she’s from.
Me Tarka. Tarka Slitherscales, of the Thunderscales Tribe. Me from Thunderscales Warren, in mediogalti Island. Pleased to meet you….?
The nobles find her odd, but charming, and begin talking to her more.
One of the other bidders looks at Tarka askance, with perhaps a questioning look on her face. "If you're here to bid--are you here to bid?--you need to check in with Proctor Imikar. He's over there." She points out a man with a ledger, currently collecting the deposit from another bidder and noting it in his little book.
"Oh, I'm sorry, but all bidders are confidential," the proctor says as he records your deposit for the Pathfinder Society.
You pick out the following names from the ledger:
Maiveer Sloan | Aspis Consortium
Falrig Sneve | ---
Kresch Vaor | Underbridge Exports
Dymal Rinks | independant
Doctor Ernst Landis | Museum of Ages
Zimandi Kaddren | ---
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Seltyel returns to his companions.
I managed to spot a few names. Let us see, while I still remember all of them: Maiveer Sloan from the Aspis Consortium, Kresch Vaor from Underbridge Exports, Doctor Erns Landis from the Museum of Ages, and and independant bidder: Dymal Rinks. Also I could see two more names but not their affiliations: Falrig Sneve and Zimand Kaddren.
The half-elf sighs.
Quite a few bidders. I wonder if any of them are still around...
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Stavarg returns Khon'Ur's hand-shake and a warm smile at his greeting.
Small world. Especially since I've been on so few missions! I rather would like to form a consistent team in my time with the Society. I suppose we'll see how possible that is later.
Stavarg looks relieved when Seltyiel returns with good intel.
Good work man. I was never going to get it out of these stuffy types. But... I guess we still have to talk to these? We don't even know what they look like, right? He frowns at this realization.
He turns to the next cluster of partygoers and attempts to casually ask as to the whereabouts of Maiveer Sloan.
You pick out the following names from the ledger:
Kresch Vaor | Underbridge Exports
The Duchesses | none
Doctor Ernst Landis | Museum of Ages
Zimandi Kaddren | ---
You pick out the following names from the ledger:
Maiveer Sloan | Aspis Consortium
Kresch Vaor | Underbridge Exports
A squat man in white robes steps upon the cathedral dais to address the room. Introducing himself as the as the sexton of Magnimar's High Cathedral of Abadar, he greets his guests with a broad, welcoming smile.
"Good evening, friends! I’m pleased to see so many of our distinguished and honored guests could attend. For those of you not fortunate enough to have participated in our pre-auction festivities, please feel free to take part in all the luxuries and wonders within these halls. And with my welcome, I have the pleasure unveiling the auction’s feature lot. Enjoy!"
The crowd is an eclectic mix of landholders, merchants, and other notable figures from all over Varisia, wide-eyed and curious to glimpse the mysterious Runecarved Key. Hired servants weave through the crowd bearing luxurious platters of fruits, sweetbreads, and oysters or trays topped with crystal goblets of heady red wine. Guests mingle slowly, socializing amicably but cautiously with longtime acquaintances, as they feel out potential competitors.
Tarka decides to gather more concrete information, before reporting it to her team. She decided that the best place to start is with Maiveer Sloan....
One of the attendants points out a gaunt, fashionably dressed Chelaxian. He is handshaking his way through the room, accompanied by a half-dozen followers who appear to be equal parts attendant and bodyguard.
Hmmm... I like merchants. I remember that the guys and I once robbed a caravan in Mendeva... Well, I'll leave the stories from another life for later, but I'll look for merchants now!
Toward the back of the room stands a gray-haired man in his early fifties, dressed in fine silken robes and flanked by two muscular guards. The man nervously fingers a small silver coin, flipping it about in his fingers.
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Tarka, certain she has her personal, decides to investigate the Chelaxian.
Tarka, after a bit more snooping, is completely certain she has important information on Maiveer Sloan, and is confident enough to approach, but not enough so to walk straight up to him. So she gets just close enough to see if she can pull any more information out.
Tarka figures out quite quickly that Maiveer Sloan is the head of Magnimar's chapter of the Aspis Consortium. She overhears him talking with someone else at the party claiming he only came for the party and "to see what kind of fools are actually showing up to bid on a stupid key to a lock long lost to time."
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Kalak listens to the lot of information, thinking a moment, then nods, and begins scanning the room - looking for any potential Sczarni or Varisians who look slightly shifty or nervous.
Kalak spots his prey, wandering through the crowd with an aura of menace and violence around him. Approaching the figure he nods, one man used to committing violence to another. Why do you seek the key? I believe it will open a sacred vault in the Cinderlands, but I am unsure if the Auguries of the Shaman were correct in this...
”Excuse Tarka, but could you talk more about key? Tarka love to hear more….” Tarka says, batting her eyes, and hoping to impress and sway Maiveer Sloan.
"That old thing? It's likely useless; nobody knows what it's for. It's a rip-off at any price! But the gala here is always a treat," he says, grabbing an oyster off a passing tray and slurping it down.
He looks at you more closely. "Are you planning on bidding?" he asks with an incredulous lift to his eye. "Surely you're an agent for someone," he concludes with no small amount of disdain in his voice. "Who do you represent here?"
Not seeing what he's looking for, he wanders over to where Tarka is chatting up the Aspis agent. "Tarka, there you are, who is this?" the Shoanti bows slightly at the introduction, "I am Kalak Sunrunner of the Sklar-Quah, I believe this is a Shoanti artifact, yes?"
Failing to find anyone that checks his boxes, Kalak joins Tarka. Maiveer intruduces himself to the newcomer, shrugging his shoulders at the question about the Key's origins.
Failing that, trying to locate the independant bidder seems like a good idea.
A squat halfling, dressed in plain clothes skates about the edge of the crowd, his eyes flitting back and forth between the key and the exit.