"Yes, that was me," Arhan says to Clover, smiling. "Did you like it? I take pride in every piece I create."
He turns to Targrish. "Oakwood, yes, and also octopus ink. Brine brings it to me fresh-squeezed when he comes back from his diving expeditions." Arhan gestures to the azarketi, who inclines his head.
"Nothing but the best for my boyfriend!" Brine says with a wink.
The kobold rolls her eyes. "Ugh, get a room, you two," she mutters.
Brine gives her a sharp look. "This would be a room we could use, if you weren't always here, Nara," he teases.
"Somebody has to spare the customers from watching you two make kissy-faces at each other all day! I consider it a sacred duty!" Nara replies.
Arhan chuckles and shakes his head. "Anyway, let me show you some of the other tools I have here..." He chats amiably with Targrish for several minutes.
Observing Arhan, Clover deduces that the man is very passionate about his craft. He also seems mild-mannered and somewhat overwhelmed by the the liveliness of the enormous market around him.
Targrish chats appreciatively with the other professional. "I've heard you specialize in tattooed enchantments, as well." Targrish shows off his own work on his knuckles, arms, and shoulders.
"Done any work with Harrow motifs lately?" the dwarf hooks a thumb at Vashta. "The young lady is a soothsayer, and very interested in the deck."
"Well, aren't you all just darling. I do indeed cast the cards, my dear," Vashta says. "In fact, I came to Absalom to find a fellow practitioner, one Dieral Myrnese..."
At the mention of Dieral's name, Brine rolls his eyes. "Oh, don't get him started on Dieral. Arhan gets all starry-eyed every time that handsome elf comes around!"
Arhan blushes. "Brine! He's just a good friend!" the artist insists.
Brine chuckles. "Sure thing, lover boy! It's okay to have a crush, but you just remember who your actual boyfriend is, okay?" The azarketi points to himself with a mock stern expression.
Arhan gives Brine a look before turning back to Vashta. "Yes, I know Dieral. He runs a mobile cart called the Harrow Barrow, and he often visits to show off all the different styles of Harrow decks he acquires. I like to use the illustrations as inspiration for my own work. How do you know Dieral?"
He still seems to be a bit wary around Vashta.
Fortunately, Aicrad’s easygoing manner helps to allay Arhan’s suspicions. After chatting amiably for a while, Arhan scratches his chin. ”Hmm... Now that you mention it, I haven't seen Dieral in several weeks now. That's an unusually long time for him not to come around. You don't think something happened to him, do you?"
***
Arhan nods to Targrish. ”Yes, I do.” The mastiff hound rises from her bed, yawns, stretches, and walks over to Arhan. The artist rubs the dog behind the ears as he chats with the dwarf. "Most magical tattooing requires the same tools as traditional methods, just using magical inks and, sometimes, magical implements, such as needles, bone tattooing rakes, or the like. The New Thassilonian method, though, etches the magic directly onto the skin without puncturing it. The pain remains the same, unfortunately. And the magic persists and renews itself even if the skin is damaged.
“I don’t offer my magical tattoos to everybody, but you seem like good folk. And if Dieral is in danger and you’re trying to help him, you're going to need protection. I'm willing to inscribe some tattoos for you, free of charge, if you'd like."
"I know Dieral mentioned a couple of other contacts in Grand Bazaar in the past. There's Erikanesh at Historia Reliquary and Clemeth Falk at Reclaimed Paradise. I've had a few interactions with both them. I could give you some pointers on how to talk to them."
"As I said, I'm also a practitioner of Harrow, dear, and you could say his name was in the cards," Vashta replies lightly. "I was hoping to discuss some strange omens I've received lately with him. The Vision, as it were... If you have others who might be able to help us, any suggestion would of course be so appreciated."
Arhan rubs his chin. ”Well, aside from Dieral, I recently completed a tattoo for All-Seeing Hajeck. It was of The Vision, funnily enough! She owns a game shop called Three Moves Ahead nearby. Maybe she can help you.
“As for Dieral, there is one thing that I just remembered. He was looking through a book of tattoo images when he remarked that one of them reminded him of a safe place he knows. It’s where he’d go if he were ever in trouble. Hang on a minute.”
Arhan rummages through his books until he comes upon the image, which he shows to you. The image depicts a stylized horse in profile. ”Sorry. It’s not much, I know, but hopefully it helps.”
By this point, several more customers have arrived, patiently waiting as Nara the kobold mollifies them. Arhan grimaces. ”I can’t talk much more right now. But if you ever want to make a purchase, come back again and I’ll give you a nice discount. Take care!”
"Thank you for your help, and I'd be proud to wear your work." Targrish makes an appointment to get the fiend warding tattoo.
"Where to next, chums?"
Outside, Vashta mulls her thoughts. "I think to the reliquary, dear. I suspect we might have more luck seeing a man about a horse there than at a scrapyard."
An intricate maze of well-ordered exhibits and shelves, the Historia Reliquary is almost more of a museum than a store. The front is covered with a heavy black curtain that is pinned in place with wooden stakes to prevent passersby from sneaking a look at what is inside. The proprietor, Erikanesh, is a tall, blue-skinned iruxi who dresses fashionably, with no thread out of place. They peer at you through their monocle as you approach.
"Salutations, fellow scholars," Erikanesh says in greeting. "Have you come to see the relics in my collection? I only ask you pay a modest fee of one silver piece each for the privilege."
Once you have passed the initial barrier of the entrance fee, the shop welcomes you inside with a well-lit interior illuminated by multiple orbs floating above the displays, which give off a soothing light. Scents suffuse the air inside the building, mainly that of sweet rolls and fresh tea. Erikanesh offers these refreshments at no further cost.
"Each of these items has a fascinating and robust history! I would be happy to educate you about any of the displays that catch your eye," the lizardfolk says proudly.
As before, Vashta looks nothing like herself, thanks to her magical hat. Instead, it's a slightly heavy red-haired woman who gives the Iruxi a warm smile. "I seek education of a different sort. I must speak with my good friend, Dieral, about a matter of the Harrow, but I seem to be having trouble finding him. He's spoken warmly of you in the past, so I thought you might be able to give me some idea where he is?"
Targrish appreciates the varied collection. "I'm something of a collector of oddments myself." He swirls the tea in his cup and as he wanders the displays. "What's your current favorite piece?"
Clover nods in appreciation of the esoteric displays.
"I would love to hear more about each of these pieces. Some of them remind me of my time spent in Magaambya," she says. "As my friend has stated, however, our cerebral enhancement must take a back seat to practicalities."
"You are friends with Dieral?" Erika asks Vashta. "I do know him fairly well, as I purchase antique harrow cards from him from time to time. From a purely academic perspective, of course, fortune telling is unscientific nonsense, but Dieral occasionally acquires some truly rare finds amid the dross in his Harrow Barrow. If a harrow card has historical importance, I do my best to acquire it, though I do not have any right now."
The iruxi turns to Targrish. "My favorite piece? Ah, so many to choose from! Well, there is this tower shield I acquired recently. An amaranthine pavise, blessed by Ketephys, the elven god of the hunt. It was used in the war against the nascent demon lord Treerazer in the southern forests of Kyonin. It has a very intriguing history..."
Erikanesh drones on and on about the shield and the other objects in their collection. Targrish struggles to get a word in edgewise, but Aicard offers several polite interjections that keep the conversation going and help to win the lizardfolk over.
Erikanesh brightens up a bit when Clover mentions the Magaambya. ”Ah! I, too, once attended that illustrious institution. Perhaps you are familiar with my final thesis, Choral’s Forced and Accidental Renaissance: On the Cultural Union of Issia and Rostland in Brevoy’s Initial Art? It made me an acknowledged authority on antiques.”
The iruxi speaks at length with Clover about various academic topics, then eventually steers the conversation back to some of their wares. "You are the adventuring sort, aren't you? I insist you take one of my items with you before you depart today. If anybody asks, make sure you tell them that you got it from Historia Reliquary. It will be great advertisement for my business here!"
It pains Aicard to make Erikanesh skip the detailed history of the Ketephys-blessed pavise but they've got places to go, people to safe.
The tiefling visually perks up when Erikanesh offers them an item free of charge. Free! The shield does look amazing, and Aicard eyes it with a certain longing, but it wouldn't fit inside his magical glove ... and carrying that massive bastard about would quite seriously cramp his style. He had already spent a massive amount of gold pieces to make his armor 'vanish', so no, the shield, it just won't do.
"You're kind, too kind some might dare say, Erikanesh. Perhaps one of my companions would love to bear your brand out into the world and ensure your name is associated with heroic deeds and the vanquishing of evil, and all that. Say, Clover, that staff would be amazing for you, no?"
"Thank you, Erikanesh. I studied a bit farther north--with the Blue Warders of Tar-Kazmukh--and I'm sure that you were a better student than I was. Couldn't cast a cantrip!"
"We did have excellent libraries, though, full of the densest dwarven lore. I appreciate your study of Avistan--very insightful!"
"You are too generous, darling. We shall tell everyone about your store, of course," Vashta coos, quickly covering her frown at his dismissal of the Harrow. Everyone knows true prophecy died with Aroden, but the cards do give some insight into the future.
"But as fascinating as the Expanse may be, I really do need to find Dieral, if you can help," she adds, trying to divert his attention back to their goal.
Erikanesh continues to illuminate Targrish about their extensive collection of Avistani artifacts, speaking at length over numerous pieces. Eventually, Vashta interjects, trying to get the lizardfolk to focus on the task at hand.
"Dieral, yes, yes. He has a few other close contacts in the Bazaar, you know." Erikanesh gossips a bit about some of the other proprietors in the Grand Bazaar, including those Dieral seems to know best: Arhan Benimaya at Kraken’s Ink Tattoo and Clemeth Falk at Reclaimed Paradise. Erikanesh considers both individuals to be utterly lacking in academic discipline or good business sense.
"Say, while I might not wield the shield you so generously offered us into battle, I could perhaps decorate my shield with a trinket or two of yours - they don't need to be magical, of course - and so bring your name and fame into the world."
Aicard tries to ply Erikanesh, but part of it is genuine: rocking impressive reliquary items befits a rockstar champion of the Divine Dare.
"Trinket? My good tiefling, I would not classify any of my wares as mere trinkets," Erikanesh says disdainfully. "They are artifacts! Relics! Heirlooms! Rarities! Why, this scythe over here was wielded by a Gebbite champion of Urgathoa in the first war against Nex..."
The iruxi goes on and on about the historical significance of their collection.
"You operate a very specialized business, here. Do you have many customers?" Targrish appreciates the artifacts, but it's hard to see how the glorified museum keeps its doors open.
Vashta continues to press the point about Dieral, trying to find out if Erikanesh might know anything else about their elusive vendor.
Aicard tries to wiggle his way out of calling the man's wares trinkets, but also refuses to budge too much on the matter as some of these things are trinkets.
Clover continues to get Erikanesh to loosen up as they engage in lengthy academical discussions. Once the iruxi is at ease once more, Targrish and Vashta win them over with their diplomatic overtures.
"I can tell you are individuals of wealth and taste," Erikanesh eventually says. "I will tell you what I know about where to find Dieral, but I will admit it is not much. I only knows that Dieral said he’s been living somewhere in the Eastgate district of the city. I hope it helps you locate the mechant.
"In the meantime, my reliquary is open to you. If you have extra coin to spend, you may find my wares useful."
"Well, looks like one more stop in the Bazaar, then off to Eastgate." The dwarf plots, thouightfully. "Off to Reclaimed Paradise?"
"Yes, dear, exactly what I was thinking," Vashta agrees.
It is late afternoon by the time you reach your third destination. Parts of Reclaimed Paradise look more like an upscale spa resort than a vehicle scrapyard. A 14‐foot‐tall white stone wall lines the large yard’s perimeter. Within, smiling employees wearing matching overall jumpsuits help customers locate parts throughout the yard. Silencing spells are cast when moving heavily damaged vehicles to mitigate noise pollution, and each piece of equipment is treated with the care and attention it deserves.
The proprietor, Clemeth Falk, is a tall orc in extraordinarily good shape. She wears a comfortable uniform complete with all the necessary safety gear of her trade: goggles, knee pads, thick gloves, and a heavy leather apron.
”Welcome! Haven’t seen you folks around before,” she says with a warm grin. ”Always happy to meet new potential customers! What can I do you for?”
"Well, you've got quite an operation going here." Targrish bends over and lifts a dog cart off the ground to check out the suspension repairs.
"Fine craftsmanship."
For the fourth time looking like a different woman, Vashta smiles at the orc.
"We are looking for a mutual friend for a little help," she coos. "Perhaps you've seen him?"
Aicard builds upon the praise given by Targrish in an attempt to woe Clemeth and get her to talk to them. In between the words of praise, Aicard flashes her a bright toothy smile. Who can resist an abysmal bad boy like Aicard? "I see impeccable craftsmanship no matter where I look. The fact we haven't seen each other before is a crime, truly."
Clemeth seems impressed by Targrish's display of strength. "Why, thank you kindly. I pride myself on my business's good health, as well as that of myself and my employees. Everything and everyone in tip-top shape."
Vashta's and Clover's openness and honesty endear both of them to the orc. After chatting amiably for some time, Clemeth nods her head. "You're looking for Dieral, are you? He and I are friends, unlikely though it may be. Dieral needed his wheelbarrow fixed one day, and Reclaimed Paradise had the right resources for the job. Dieral assumed that the shop was only for people with large, complicated vehicles like clockwork boats or iron-plated carriages, but I insisted that I could have his broken wheelbarrow fixed within the time it’d take for Dieral to give an honest effort on an obstacle course of my own design. Dieral succeeded on his first try. Damned impressive! I've been fine-tuning his wheelbarrow ever since.
"I haven't seen him in a while, though. Truth be told, I'm a bit worried about what's happened to him. He talked a lot about some of his other friends in the Grand Bazaar, including Erikanesh at Historia Reliquary and Arhan Benimaya at Kraken's Ink Tattoo."
After informing Clemeth you've already spoken to those two, Aicard works his charm on the orc. She chuckles and grins at the tiefling. "Come on, handsome, I'll give you the tour." She shows off the garage, with several vehicles in various states of repair. Everything from boats to carts to clockwork striders can be found here. She then takes you to her obstacle course, an outdoor training area featuring mechanical mazes, a wall of swinging robotic arms, and a huge mound of twisted and jagged scraps that Clemeth calls "The Leap."
"Wanna give it a try? Make it through the course, and I'll tell you more about Dieral."
Critical Success: You earn 2 Obstacle Course Points and gain a +2 circumstance bonus to your next check to Run the Obstacle Course.
Success: You push forward on the course and gain 1 Obstacle Course Point.
Failure: You earn no Obstacle Course Points and must attempt a DC 28 Reflex save. If you fail, you wrench a muscle or otherwise hurt yourself and become enfeebled 1 for 1 hour.
Critical Failure: You lose 1 Obstacle Course Point and twist an ankle or otherwise seriously hurt yourself, becoming enfeebled 2 (a successful DC 28 Reflex save reduces this to enfeebled 1).
"What a wonderful course," Vashta replies. "However did you come up with such an idea?"
She continues to discuss it, never actually saying that she has no intention of running it.
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Targrish gives his neck a sharp *crack* and steps up to the obstacle course.
"Looks like a good laugh, let's see if these old bones can carry me through."
Targrish goes for it, and it is glorious. There are flips, there is grandstanding with eyes closed. He rocks the dismount.
Clemeth chuckles as she watches Targrish. "I just love to tinker," she says in answer to Vashta's question. "That, plus I'm passionate about physical fitness. Gotta make sure all of my employees take care of themselves. And don't forget to hydrate!"
She whistles and cheers appreciatively at Targrish's athletic and acrobatic display. "Masterful!" she says, nodding with respect.
The orc opens up further about Dieral, expressing some worry about how he obsessed over his collection more than she considered healthy. He told her more than once that if he ever found a really rare, magical card, he’d consider giving up his card-peddling business. He thought for a minute, though, and admitted that if he did get a very powerful magic card, dangerous people might be after it, too. Clemeth laughed off Dieral’s worry, poked his bony shoulder, and told him that was a good reason to get into better shape.
"But now I'm worried he might be in real danger. Do you think you could help him?"
Clover assures the orc that you will do your best to help Dieral, and Clemeth nods resolutely. "Alright. I remember Dieral seemed familiar with some of the specialty repair tools he saw me using. I expressed surprise—as he didn’t seem like someone good with his hands—and Dieral made a dismissive comment about an abandoned forge that he’d go to if he ever got into trouble. I hope that helps you find him!"
With all three clues you have gathered, you know that Dieral's "safe place" is an abandoned forge in Eastgate marked with an image of a stylized horse in profile. Clover knows that there is one location that matches all three clues—a place called Stirrup & Barding.
"Well, looks like our wandering merchant has gotten himself a wheelbarrow full of trouble." Targrish smiles at his own joke, but sobers up pretty quickly. "I hope he's not run afoul of those fiends. Let's head to Eastgate."
Aicard hates that the dwarf's joke makes him laugh. Not cool.
"If what we ran into earlier is any indication of what we might expect, we better hurry. Not everyone can stand up to a powerful fiend, let alone two." It doesn't need to be said out loud that Aicard, of course, is a person who could.
You head into Eastgate, making your way to Dieral’s hiding place. One part stable and one part blacksmith shop, this forlorn stone and thatch building has the words “Stirrup & Barding” painted above a picture of an armored horse facing the street. The massive chimney rising from the structure emits no smoke and lists a bit to the side as though in danger of collapse. The windows are shuttered, and weeds fill the small corral to the side and behind the building.
The gate to the paddock and the front double door, as well as the windows, are all barred. The southern door to the forge appears to be locked, but upon anything other than cursory examination, it’s clear that this lock is broken, and the door opens easily.
The stable’s interior is dim and drafty. Several supplies are stacked in one corner, near a cold fireplace with an enormous anvil next to it. A few blacksmith’s tools hang on the wall. A large wheelbarrow sits near this door. Its lower half is a complex clockwork‐like contraption with a single large metal wheel and a pair of handles affixed with leather straps, and its upper half appears to be a colorful miniature shop with its walls and roof line set with dozens of hinges and latches.
The complicated wheelbarrow itself is, of course, the eponymous Harrow Barrow. A closer examination reveals that the “shop” built on top of the wheelbarrow incorporates several dozen small images—54 in all, each referencing one of the classic 54 cards of the harrow. The wheelbarrow is in fact a complicated set of drawers and cabinets that can be opened and closed—all of which are currently locked. The lower portion of the wheelbarrow is fitted with a set of clever gears and clockwork machinery that allows a single person to haul the heavy contraption around with relative ease.
A search of the room reveals a +2 striking mithral longspear that has fallen behind the stack of supplies in the southwest corner of the room. Its head is marked with the symbol of the Post Guard, Eastgate’s neighborhood guard. A vanishing coin hangs with the tools on the wall.
A small door to an interior room has a bit of light beneath it...
As Vashta enters, she takes a moment to summon The Tyrant, her eyes again glowing with crowns.
"Ah, child, so you need my services again. Do not worry or fear. Nothing shall harm you in my presence," the newly arrived dragon grates.
He eyes the door, taking up position between his summoner and the portal.
"Well, dwarf, do you plan to open it now? Or are you going to continue to dawdle?"
Targrish itches to poke at the many doors of the Harrow Barrow, but the lit doorway is certainly the most pressing concern.
Needled on by the dragon, the dwarf sneaks up to the door and slides it open as quietly as possible.
The door opens into a room lined with shelves containing scraps of metal and various tools. Some of the shelves have been cleared to make room for a few piles of clothes, some food and wine bottles, and several stacks of harrow cards.
An elven man who must be Dieral shrieks in panic as you enter the room. His lack of sleep, healthy food, and opportunities for personal hygiene over the past few days have certainly left him in a sad state. He falls to his knees. ”Please! Have mercy on me, I beg you!”
"What have you done, mortal, that you require mercy?" The Tyrant grates, before he is pushed aside by Vashta.
"Oh dear, you poor darling. We don't mean you any harm. We've been looking for you precisely because we thought you might need our help," Vashta says. "You could say we saw it in the cards."
Vashta and her eidolon can both tell that Dieral is legitimately terrified and is no threat to you. The summoner’s calm demeanor helps the elf to calm down. He takes a few deep breaths to steady himself as his initial panic slowly fades. "Thank you. Yes, I need help. I've been hiding out because I'm being pursued. I'm not sure who is after me, exactly, but ever since I found that card, I knew that it was only a matter of time before they catch up with me!"
At this point, the double doors in the stable suddenly burst open! A tiefling wearing half-plate and wielding a jagged battle axe charges inside. Moments later, a trio of humans in leather armor drop in through the thatch roof, brandishing bows, while a four-armed devil in a hooded robe comes in through the southern door! Dieral yelps in terror and rushes to find a hiding spot.
The tiefling hesitates, momentarily taken aback by your presence here. Then his eyes narrow. "Kill them all! Find the Harrow card!"
Targrish considers the best tactics to attack the tiefling, then closes in and waves his amulet in the attacker's face.
"Clear off! You don't know who you're messing with."
Clover unsuccessfully attempts to banish the four-armed devil. Targrish moves to confront the tiefling, brandishing his amulet.
The tiefling charges the dwarf, swinging his axe! Targrish's amulet keeps him safe from harm.
The devil moves to an advantageous position and casts a spell, wracking you with waves of crushing despair!
Meanwhile, the archers fire poisoned arrows at the Tyrant!
The amulet shimmers again, and a Targrish's form shimmers as he attacks.
for
for
HP 114/173 (Toughness)
AC 27
Fort +13, Ref +11, Will +13; fire resistance 5 (crown), poison resistance 11 (brass dwarf), xx weakness 5? (brass dwarf)
Hero points: 2
Active Harrow Omen: The locksmith (keys)
Chaotic Destiny []; Incredible Improvisation []; crown of the fire eater []; ring of lies []
Focus Points: 1/1
Effects: crushing despair (can't use reactions and must attempt another save at the start of its turn; on a failure, it is slowed 1 for that turn as it sobs uncontrollably) 1/10
Vashta grits her teeth as despair threatens to overwhelm her, but with the Tyrant's example, she doesn't give into it. She casts a spell and lightning flashes from her fingers.
AC 30
Fort +20, Ref +19, Will +17
Collar of the eternal bond []
Effects:
Snarling in fury, The Tyrant dashes toward the archers, jaws snapping.
"I will crack your bones and suck on the innards," he promises them in a horrific growl.
Aicard is overcome with despair when the devil blasts them with a spell. He knows the emotions aren't real, but the tears coming from his eyes certainly are.
The champion summons his shield and, with both hands holding the side of the shield, throws the shield at the shins of the archer the Tyrant is trying to consume. Within a split second, the shield is back in his hands, if it ever left his hands at all.
Vashta's lightning crackles through the room. While the tiefling and the devil avoid the worst of it, two of the three archers take the full brunt of the blast. The Tyrant bites one of the more wounded archer, and Aicard bashes the same enemy with his shield.
Completely ignoring the waves of despair, Clover attempts her banishment again, and this time, the devil shrieks as it is sent back to Hell! Targrish scores a hit on the tiefling as he continues to shimmer indistinctly.
The tiefling takes a moment to cast haste on himself, then slashes Targrish twice.
The archers continue to shoot at the Tyrant. One pays the price as the eidolon critically bites him, but he stays standing despite his terrible wounds!