After the lifetime of adventuring it takes for a Pathfinder Society field agent to attain Seeker status, many choose the sedate life of retirement. But for others, the siren song of further danger and discovery cannot be resisted! Scattered throughout Golarion, four such intrepid adventurers are about to receive a startling invitation--one that could change their lives forever!
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The small halfling returned to Opara after another successful mission, this time helping the Society to secure the fabled Runecarved Key itself. She’d had a rougher than usual time as there were so many demons and such that she didn’t care especially well against. More training, she thought
No sooner than getting settled, she quickly had to transition into politician mode, as her Senatorial campaign continued. She felt she’d achieved a real breakthrough. Her neighbors seemed to really take her positions seriously. It wouldn’t be long now until she’d get that position, she just knew it.
Of course, as soon as she kicked up her feet to take some time off, she received a knock at the door and a note thereafter. Its never boring around here.
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”HOOOOOOO,” the owl in the crow’s nest lets the Elf at the wheel know the Isle of Kortos is barely visible in the distance…
Venture-Captain Flyndyngylyn, known as Flyn to his friends, smiles widely, as he steers the Voracious east-southeast in the Inner Sea, towards the horizon where Absalom Harbor awaits. ”Aye, Archimedes, hear you loud and clear, my friend…we’re almost home.”
Having recently recovered the renowned Runecarved Key for the Pathfinder Society in Magnimar, Flyn had just dropped off the last of his companions from that mission, and was on his way to what he called home now, the Grand Lodge in Absalom. When he wasn’t on a mission or sailing, he enjoyed spending his time in the place where his career as a Pathfinder first began…
Life as a new Venture-Captain had been intriguing; he got a little more insight on the inner workings of the Society. Flyn was actually relieved not to be assigned to lead a Pathfinder lodge, as he liked the freedom of being able to stay in the field and go on missions; that will always be his first love and would likely never change…
As the sun begins its descent from the sky, Flyn ponders what new missions might be on his horizon…he would not be surprised if one popped up sooner as opposed to later…in fact, he was counting on it…and therefore, was not surprised when a new missive arrived not long after…
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After returning from a successful mission exploring ancient Azlanti ruins and a stint as aspiring song writer of melodious choir music Helgar is back in front of a classroom in the Grand Lodge of Absalom. He is currently teaching an advanced class in planar travel and speaking about his personal experiences in Hell and how he almost came face to face with his very own subject of worship, the one and only arch devil ...
At the climax of his riveting lecture a rotund and squat delivery man throws open the doors to the class room and addresses the professor.
"Halgar, Helligar... well that is you ain't it? Some big shot from some stuck up school wants you for something or other. Ack, you can read it yourself. Some of us have real work to do."
Without waiting for a reply the workman leaves having completely derailed Helgar's lecture.
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Far, far beneath the surface of the undead-ruled kingdom of Geb, a beautiful elven male stands in a lightless tomb transcribing script from an ancient stele and humming tunelessly.
In spite of the absolute darkness, the elf turns to look upon a tiny dragaon - no bigger than a housecat - perched atop the stele.
"No I'm not going to fool you little dragon
Sinuhotep's not a nice guy
He killed all of his followers
Just so that he wouldn't die
And Torch he ain't much better
A trickster through and through
He lies and steals, he does bad deals
But he's a Sage now too
Oh oobedoo
I got a Sage Jewel to - oo - oo
You see its true
Someone like me can be like Tahonikepsu"
The elf's discordant song echoes through the depths...
Influential Pathfinders across Golarion--in Oppara, the Grand Lodge, the goodship Voracious, and even an ancient tomb below Geb--are suddenly visited by an immaculately dressed courtier, teleporting in without announcement or apology! The courtier unfurls a handsome scroll and declaims in a loud voice:
"Seeker of Secrets, listen well! By these words you are invited to participate as a noted Guest of Honour in the forthcoming Breaching Festival! All queries will be addressed to your satisfaction prior to commencement of the event. To accept this invitation, grasp firmly the proffered hand of the deliverer of this missive.
Signed, Headmaster Toff Ornelos, The Acadamae, Korvosa"
Immediately after finishing the announcement, the courtier furls the scroll and holds out a hand. His face remains steadfastly neutral.
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Helgar shakes his head knowing full well that he will not finish his lecture today.
"Another interruption. All right. Class dismissed."
"Study chapter 8 through 11. How to properly bind extra-planar creatures and tips on how to best clean out their cages."
The cleric turns to chat with his familiar in a strange language. He then puts on all of his adventuring equipment and casts a quick spell (Ant Haul) before grasping the messenger's hand.
"Get ready Tom. We are going for a ride."
29 Knowledge Arcana with a take 10 and an auto-aid.
The scorpion looks at the messenger and the scroll with a knowing look and even bows his head in acknowledgement to the man before they are whisked away.
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Flyn is a bit taken aback as the courier appears just as they’re docking in Absalom Harbor. Curious he listens with great interest, especially as the Breaching Festival is mentioned…
…seeming to recall something of it in his previous excursions into Varisia…
He tosses a couple of gold pieces to the dock worker tying his ship, saying, nods to the courier. ”Secure her and watch her for me, my good fellow! There’ll be more gold for you when I return.”
Flyn looks up to the crow’s nest, whistling at the owl. When Archimedes lands on his left shoulder, the Elf turns to the courier, saying, ”I accept,” and firmly shakes the man’s hand…
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Know local with Varisia bonus
”The Breaching Festival, you say? Hmmmm…..,” she says as she thinks about what she has heard.
The halfling grabs her satchel, lays out her armor and weapons and try urns to the courtier. ”Do you know if we will have a chance to hit the market? I’m just off a successful mission and could always use something new and shiny.”
She takes the proffered hand, ready to head out.
In a flash of light and after a moment's disorientation, one by one the Pathfinders find themselves standing in a well-appointed study. Somber carpets, well-lacquered tables, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves give the room the air of a scholar's personal library. "Headmaster will receive you shortly," announces the courtier before disappearing in another flash of light.
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The Breaching Festival of the Korvosa Acadamae? This is an opportunity not to be missed!
Quenly's song stops abruptly.
Why, of course you want the Jacinth Sage to attend.
Quenly reaches out one arm towards his dragon, who hops onto the extended limb.
"I accept the invitation. The Tomb of Na-Gherex has waited ten thouand years for me, it can wait a little longer."
With his other hand, Quenly grasps the courier's.
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Flyn quickly surveys his new surroundings, making sure this was not some elaborate ambush…once he sees he sees others popping in, especially considering he knows a couple of them, he relaxes…
”Quenly! Shel! Did I not just drop you guys off a few days ago? Regardless, it’s good to see you again, my friends, and good to know we’ll be in this challenge together…I have only heard of the Breaching Festival by rumor at taverns during missions in Varisia…sounds daunting…”
He clasps arms with the other Elf and gives Shel a friendly hug…
Turning to the man he does not know in particular, he bows. ”Flyndyngylyn, at your service; but, as that can be a mouthful, my friends call me Flyn. I do not know you by name, sir, but I have seen you a time or two in the Grand Lodge in Absalom…you are a teacher there, perhaps? I am a part-time trainer there myself…any way, I look forward to working with you…”
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Shel grins at seeing two of her old adventuring chums. ”Quinly, Flyn, pleasure to see you both again. Seeing you two make me confident in getting published in the Chronicles again before this mission is completed.”
The halfling turns to the human. ”And I’m Shel. I find things that need found. Also, I’m up for the Senate race in Oppara. If you know anyone there, I could use their support!”
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A tall and youthful man of fair complexion and dark hair nods to the two. He is quite lean and small boned and it is a small wonder how he is managing to support all of his armour and equipment so easily.
"Yes, I have seen you two around the Grand Lodge from time to time. I am Helgar."
"I was in the middle of my lecture when I was whisked away but this Breaching Festival has the opportunity to be very profitable and perhaps I will have a good story or two to tell my students when I get back if I am not interrupted again ..."
Helgar turns to reply to Shel's question.
"Politics in Oppara, interesting. I would say that most of my contacts are in Cheliax and elsewhere."
Helgar's tone conveys the message that you may not want to know the origin of his elsewhere contacts however you will in short order.
"Well, we are waiting for your third. I hope that I can be the fourth wheel that will help to balance out the cart for our group."
The cleric says with a smile.
A set of large oak doors on one side of the room open, seemingly of their own accord. Past them, you see an austere, well-organized office with a massive desk, a speculative representation of Golarion as a globe, and a an elaborate rack of wands and staves.
A wizened man with white hair and beard stands in greeting and nods at the four chairs in front of the desk.
“Welcome, and thank you for answering my invitation. I am Headmaster Ornelos. As I’m sure you well know, the Breaching Festival is a longstanding Acadamae tradition, with prizes both material and magical. You might also know that entry in the contest is traditionally reserved for only the best and bravest of our students and a select few representatives of other Korvosan institutions. This year, though, we’re changing tradition and expanding the invitations further than ever--we want the most powerful, qualified individuals to compete. It has been a century and a half since the last--the only--winner of the Breaching Festival won the prize! One of you surely must bring glory to yourself and the Acadamae by enduring the traps and tricks in the Hall of Wards. I’m even willing to bend the rules to allow a team of allied competitors like yourself to cooperate as a single unit--whatever it takes to get a winner tomorrow. If you have questions, I will answer them. If you decline the invitation to participate, I will have you returned safely and speedily to the place from whence you were summoned.”
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Quenly smiles at Flyn and Shel, his recent adventuring companions.
A new ally, I presume a voice sounds in Helgar's head as Quenly and his dark dragon scrutinise the man.
I am Quenlariel Saelgwath, wielder of the Jacinth Sage Jewel and representative of the sect of Ancient Lorekeepers of Kyonin. You may call me Quenly. Know that since the gods of my people chose me as their vessel, I hear no sound but their voices. And they have taught me many secrets.
I can see words upon your lips if you face me when you speak, but it is easier by far to communicate by thought. My creature Quenly indicates the little dragon conveys your thoughts to me, and mine to you. It need only be nearby.
Taking his seat, Quenly asks the Headmaster Why are you so keen to have a winner this year? And why did the invitation come from you, and not the Dean of Abjuration as is usual?
(The little dragon transmits Quenly's questions to the assembled pathfinders as well as the Headmaster.)
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Helgar nods to Quenly and examines the strange dragon curious about its abilities. He whispers to his familiar in their shared language.
29 K-Arcana on a take 10 with an auto-aid.
"I agree with Flyn here that the challenge and the cash reward is very enticing to me."
"At what time does this festival start, how long does it last and where is the Hall of Wards located?"
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Despite his offer to answer questions, Headmaster Ornelos looks a little put out--as if he's not used to having to explain himself! Still, he rallies and his reply shows only mild irritation. "So many questions, like first-year students at orientation! I want a winner because it's been a century and a half since there was one, and the Acadamae's abjurers are going to get lazy if they assume the Hall can't be breached! And the invitation is coming from me due to some . . . internal disagreements with the Dean of Abjuration. Pay it no heed. The Festival starts tomorrow at dawn and lasts until dusk--or sooner if someone actually wins the damned thing for once! I'll go through the rules in the morning, and you'll see the other entrants then." He seems to have run out of patience by the time he gets to Helgar's last questions. "If you want history, go to the library! Now, I have much to attend to in preparations for tomorrow. If you accept the invitation, I'll provide you with a campus guide and you can stay here this evening. If not, as I said, you'll be returned safely. Well?" He raises an eyebrow as he waits a response.
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Quenly arches an eyebrow at the Headmaster's huff but does not interrupt.
I accept he affirms to all present. Then he adds, to the pathfinders alone: All is not as it seems. I do not think that this is a security consultation, and Ornelos clearly knows more than he is willing to share. Let us retire and make our plans.
The wizened old man nods and snaps his fingers. The doors to his office swing open, and a lanky man in his early twenties, dressed in robes, is waiting there. Ornelos says "This is Jandar, one of my assistants, and a recent graduate of the Acadamae. Barely. He'll be your guide."
Jandar gives a little hop and rushes over to shake your hands. "It's very nice to meet you! My reputation precedes me! I mean, your reputation-- well, you know what I mean! Welcome to Korvosa!" He leads you out of the headmaster's office, through the study, and into a long hallway. As he leads you down it, he chatters. "I really hope one of you wins! The last winner was only on a technicality! Way back in 4551, a clever chap named Dyson Fordyce managed to step into the Hall of Wards and just as quickly step back out. Brilliant! Since then, the Breaching Festival has required entry into the Hall of Wards by one door and exit from another door on the opposite side of the building. You'll really have your work cut out for you. Now, would you like to go straight to your dorms, or would you like to see some of the campus? The eight schools of magic are closed, unfortunately."
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Helgar nods in agreement not wishing to bombard the new graduate with even more questions. His scorpion familiar looks around once more and then retreats to the safety of his carrying case.
"I guess Tom has been blown up one too many times. He is understandably nervous about being out in the open."
The cleric says with a half-chuckle.
"Oh, yes," Jandar begins in answer to Quenly's question about the Hall of Wards. "You see, all first-year students are expected to demonstrate basic proficiency with each school of magic before beginning to specialise. Though, it's often said across the Inner Sea, conjuration and summoning is the specialisation of the Acadamae itself! Why, to graduate, every student has to--"
The young man's words are cut off as a scream and thunderous crash come from somewhere down the hall!
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"That was almost prophetic."
Helgar notes in reference to his familiar's sense of caution. Still a cynical person will note that a broken clock is right at least twice a day and a prudent (read: cowardly) familiar will be correct to hide at least some of the time.
The Cleric advances with a bit more caution than the elf and examines the area for items or creatures of interest.
Rushing toward the sound, the Pathfinders find it's coming from a nearby classroom. The door to the room is unlocked, and on the far side are several tables, bookshelves, and a summoning circle.
A student is lying on the ground with severe burns and dying, while a demonic spider the size of a bull elephant rears up on its back four legs, its eyes shimmering with magical energy!
Initiative (Round 1)
Quenly
Flyn
Monster
Helgar
Shel
Student
Bold may go!
"Eeep!"
The little dragon vocalises its fear and surprise, and backs away.
As Quenly's magic bolsters his allies, Flyn lets fly a volley of arrows! The monster looks like a pincushion but roars with delight to see the battle joined, and steps closer to the doorway, taking its vengeance out on Shel! Then, a beam of light emanates from its shimmering eyes, straight toward Flyn!
Witnessing the scene of carnage, Jandar shrieks and runs off, wailing like a banshee!
Initiative (Round 1)
Quenly
Flyn (Need Fort save).
Monster
Helgar
Shel
Student
Bold may go!
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Helgar gestures and a wall of wicked flame roars towards the spidery monstrosity. It seems like the doors to hell itself have opened up and forms of collared hounds screech horribly as the flames engulf the monster.
Helgar decides to take the defensive option from the Blessing of Fervor and then moves out of the sight of the creature to hard cover.
As Flyn shakes off the monster's eye beam, Helgar evokes a moving wall of flame that slightly scorch the creature. Fortunately, the flames stop just before the immobile student, bleeding to death on the floor from terrible wounds inflicted just seconds previously!
Initiative (Round 2)
Quenly
Flyn
Monster
Helgar
Shel (delayed)
Student
Bold may go!