The chief archivist, Zarta Dralneen, has summoned you to the Grand Lodge in Absalom. You convene in the vaults beneath the lodge, in an office lined by books and ancient relics in glass cases. An ornate treasure chest
rests at the foot of the solid oak desk where Zarta is busily writing.
Zarta holds up a finger, scribing a few lines on the page in front of her before looking up. "Good, you’re here. Thank you for coming; I fear our newer agents lack the experience necessary to handle some of the tasks at hand." She gestures to the chest at the foot of the desk. "This is Biglock, who’s been unusually quiet. Aren’t you going to say hello, Biglock?"
The front of the chest splits open into a gaping, toothy grin. "Just trying not to interrupt the briefing—until it’d be funny." Zarta shakes her head, though the corner of her mouth quirks up in a smile. "Biglock, as you can see, is cursed with a sense of humor. He and his associate, Mr. Glovely, will be giving you the details on these missions. As some of you may recall, we recently obtained a treasure vault formerly held by the Onyx Alliance. They entrusted it to us after a tangle with the night hag Aslynn; it appears there’s something in the vault she wants. To make sense of her plans, it’s vital we properly catalog and secure the vault’s contents. In the process, we’ve found some items that require additional attention. You’ll be heading to the Grand Bazaar to consult with merchants about four of these treasures, as their expertise will be invaluable in identifying, fixing, or locating the items in question."
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A tall and slender female elf in her leather armor joins the party. She is wearing her adventurer's backpack and a quiver of arrows tucked between her and the bag. Her dagger is strapped on her right leg while she is holding a short bow with her left hand.
Her pony-tailed long wavy hair moves as she walks. A flying young owl follows at her back and lands on her left shoulder with a small dead rat in its beak. The bird gulps the dead vermin whole.
"I am Avery Wings and this is my beautiful friend, Sophia," the elf introduces herself, while her young bird scratches its head with hers. Avery pats the owl's head and the bird flies away to look for her food.
She's always hungry lately," she explains. "It is nice to meet both of you here again in the Vaults, chief archivist and Biglock."
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A small, silvery-blue kobold who always looks a little anxious, Kaz greets Avery.
"And this is my uh, beautiful friend Zak." He grins motions at a little sprite accompanying him. "He's never given me any other name. I used to think he's making fun of me. Now I think it's been going on too long and he's embarrassed to admit it. But he answers to 'Zak' sometimes."
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The little sprite accompanying him... really isn't so "little" by sprite standards, standing at about the same height as Kaz himself. He rolls his eyes at the dubious introduction but doesn't say anything about it.
He's doing his best to look bored and disinterested, but is clearly curious about Bicklock and Mr. Glovely.
"We're magically linked," he puts in, "since he saved my life once. Usually he's the one who brings that up."
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"Ah! Zarta! Nice to see you again! My friends, Messrs Biglock and Glovely, well met indeed. Though it appears I'm the only one without a companion..."
Turning to the other Pathfinders, he bows to each one in turn. "Well met! I am Loong Laohu, though you may simply address me as 'Tiger' as my given name can be a mouthful."
Tiger is a well muscled man in homespun robes. He doesn't carry much in terms of weaponry though the looseness of his robes hints that he's an unarmed warrior.
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A tien woman in plate armor with a flowery surcoat carries an exquisitly designed glaive with etched chrysanthemums on the blade and carved dragons and monsters on the shaft. "A humorous chest and a pair of gloves are to be our handlers for this mission?" She chuckles. "Never let it be said that the lives of pathfinders are without frequent surprises."
Turning to the group, she introduces herself. "My name is Song Jun-Mei. You may call me Jun-Mei. Much like our comedic luggage friend here, I, too, have something of a dual nature as I am both a priestess of the Lady of Chrysanthemums and a defender of The Everlight. You may know them as Shelyn and Saranrae."
Omira Descinaria of the Barghest’s Bin retired from the Pathfinders after a disastrous exploration of a daemon-worshipping necromancer’s tomb resulting in the loss of her companions.
Khisa of Relics & Remembrance is always on the lookout for relics stolen from their homelands in southern Garund, as she wishes to return them to their rightful homes.
"Biglock will get you the items one at a time to minimize how many we have outside the vault at once, so check in with him after you’ve finished with each," Zarta says. "Do you have any questions?"
The mimic gives you an excessively wide, toothy grin.
Ralliadra of the Resplendent Rose has a new singing student with great potential but little confidence, and is having difficulty encouraging him.
Tesyovensku’s Warehouse’s eponymous proprietor is intrigued by Ralliadra of the Resplendent Rose, due to her musical skill and her escape from Zon Kuthon’s faith, but is unsure whether they can trust her.
"I expect you to get the tasks done efficiently," Zarta says. "Certainly no more than a week. I would not expect you to complete more than two each day."
"Careful when you handle the box inside there," Biglock warns, as Mr. Glovely holds out a small chest. The disembodied gloves open the lid to reveal an engraved box with beautiful roses and Shelynite iconography,
but a shadowy miasma surrounds it. "Seems it has some sort of curse on it. Judging by the nice roses, it used to be dedicated to Shelyn, but see those shadows? It’s been corrupted somehow, slowly realigning it to Zon-Kuthon. Weird, huh? Not only that, it radiates a sense of undeath, but none of the usual purifications have worked. Zarta thinks the proprietor of the Resplendent Rose, Ralliadra, might be able to make sense of it. She’s a devotee of Shelyn, but apparently, she used to be a Kuthite. I wouldn’t ask her too much about that, though… people can be sensitive about their pasts, and you wouldn’t want to be rude, would you?"
"Ralliadra's experience with both faiths my provide a valuable perspective into how to cleanse this item," Zarta explains.
Mr. Glovely provides a brass censor adorned with swirling Celestial text . "You might find this thurible useful," Biglock says.
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"No fewer than two days, but no more than a week," Kaz notes with a nod.
"That's terrible!" he says, looking nervously at the box, "Though Zon-Kuthon corrupting something dedicated to Shelyn makes sense...
"Okay, we can ask her without specifically bringing up why we think she might know. That sounds easy enough."
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Avery ponders the right words to ask. "What if somebody wants to take the item? Are we allowed to return if the item is, say, a stolen relic? Or do we need to inform you first? Or is it on our call to decide about it?" she asks the archivist with a shrug. "It is possible, right? That some of the items the Vaults received might be stolen and these needed to be returned to their rightful owners." she explains, as if she knows something.
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Professor Whitegourd nods and listens pipping up "I think I heard about Ralliadra. She's got a new singing student she's having trouble encouraging. Also Tesyovensku, who runs another shop in the bazaar has been asking around about her. Maybe looking for a singer but having trouble decided to trust her or not."
"I would rather you not give away what we suspect are dangerous artifacts," Zarta says with a thoughtful frown. "However, I will trust your discretion if you do not have time to consult with me. Your thoughtful discretion."
The engraved box within the chest is a phylactery. It is clearly dedicated to Shelyn. A phylactery normally contains sacred writing of the appropriate deity folded within the box; however, this phylactery is empty.
Readying yourselves, you head to the Resplendent Rose to speak with Ralliadra.
A brightly colored stained glass roof, portraying a mosaic of Shelyn’s religious symbol, crowns this building, with its many windows flung open to let in the fresh air. The cheerful jingle of wind chimes mingles with the sound of a woman singing in Elven, her voice beautifully haunting. A garland of spiked chains drapes around the arched front door, intertwined with blooming rose vines. Inside, the walls are lined with musical instruments on shelves, along with colorful weapons and armor.
At the corner of the room sits a small stage, with chairs scattered in front of it, and the scent of freshly baked cookies drifts from a door ajar at the back of the shop.
An elven woman with black hair streaked with red emerges from an doorway. "Welcome! Cookies?" she asks, offering a plate of still steaming cookies. "How may I be of service?"
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Avery takes one of the cookies and gives it to her owl. Sophia does not even take it. Avery puts it in her mouth instead and gives the elven woman a bow. "Greetings fellow elf. As my allies here are inquiring, we are asking for your expertise on Shelynite iconography. And perhaps the tea between her and Zon-Kuthon, if you know what I'm saying."
"Oh, yes, I'd be happy to take a look," Ralliadra says to Kaz and Professor Whitegourd. "Show me what you have--um, I'm not sure what you're saying, but I am familiar with the familial connection between Shelyn and Zon-Kuthon."
The shopkeeper is keenly interested as you lay down the chest. However, once you open it to reveal the phylactery inside, her pale skin pales even further. "Ah, heh, heh. Um. It is a phylactery of Shelyn. The faithful use such boxes to remind themselves of the Eternal Maiden's teachings. Um." She clears her throat. "You probably didn't need my help with that. Anyone of most faiths probably could have explained that. Heh. Um. Would you like to look around the shop?"
She is clearly nervous, the phylactery has put her on edge, and she very likely knows more that that simple piece of information.
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Jun-mei takes a bite of cookie and smiles. "The box is indeed a philactery devoted to the Lady of Chrysanthemums, but the chains seem to suggest some connection to her estranged brother. We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on the subject." The priestess"s smile grows as she makes her jest.
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Okay, here goes.
"While I think the relationship between the two is common knowledge, we hoped to find someone with a deeper understanding with that relationship to help us know what we should do here to, ah, purge that influence from the relic. If possible. A priest of Zon-Kuthon might be best able to help us, but more difficult to find and unlikely to want to help. And given Shelyn's dedication to redeeming her brother, well, the phylactery might not think for itself so 'redemption' isn't quite the right word, but it's in that region. Such a, well, devoted devotee of Shelyn seemed like the best option."
How's that? he silently asks Zak.
You didn't mention her own connection to the Kuthites.
But I didn't actually lie, either! I just... didn't mention that. Right?
"We just want to make it right."
Ralliadra smiles at Jun-Mei. "Perhaps you are Shelyn's answer to my problem. Please, all of you, follow me to my office," she says and beckons you toward the back of the shop.
You close the chest and lug it along with you to the back.
The shopkeeper goes to her desk and pauses with her hand on a drawer knob. "Someone bought this at an antique sale and brought it to me with the hopes that I could purify it," she explains and then pulls open the drawer. She removes a tiny scroll, obviously the sort to fit inside of a phylactery, and places it upon her desk. Like the phylactery, the scroll is wreathed in a shadowy cloud. "Clearly, I have not been up to the task of purifying it. That is not all, though." Her voice grows quieter. "An eerie, mournful singing emanates from the scroll accompanied by a harp on some nights. Worse, at times I find myself standing over the scroll, singing along to the melody when I awaken in the morning."
She looks askance at you and confesses, "I didn't want to burden anyone with my failures, so I haven't asked for help. And--I know it's ridiculous--I fear in my heart that my past with the Kuthonites might be causing this haunting."
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The shopkeeper goes to her desk and pauses with her hand on a drawer knob. "Someone bought this at an antique sale and brought it to me with the hopes that I could purify it," she explains and then pulls open the drawer. She removes a tiny scroll, obviously the sort to fit inside of a phylactery, and places it upon her desk. Like the phylactery, the scroll is wreathed in a shadowy cloud. "Clearly, I have not been up to the task of purifying it. That is not all, though." Her voice grows quieter. "An eerie, mournful singing emanates from the scroll accompanied by a harp on some nights. Worse, at times I find myself standing over the scroll, singing along to the melody when I awaken in the morning."She looks askance at you and confesses, "I didn't want to burden anyone with my failures, so I haven't asked for help. And--I know it's ridiculous--I fear in my heart that my past with the Kuthonites might be causing this haunting."
"A harp you say? Perhaps this will be of some use." Jun-Mei unstraps the guyaguem from her back and briefly plays a few notes.
"You are right, you know. Your fear that you are causing this is ridiculous. It is far more likely that your unique perspective is precisely the reason we have been brought together. I suspect that The Incorruptable wishes for her phylactery to be cleansed and that you are vital to this task."
As you open the chest to begin your inspections, the shadows around the scroll and around the phylactery begin to roil more and more wildly. "Oh my."
Professor Whitegourd, Avery, and Jun-Mei all recognize that reuniting these two objects seems to be summoning some sort of spirit.
A moment later, a shadowy ghost manifests in front of you. A slim Taldan gentleman looks at his hands, which hold sand that is slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tries to hold onto it. He looks at you with a grieved expression and quietly says something, although the words are garbled beyond recognition. "I dai gut na etiac?"
"No, I don't recognize him," Ralliadra says. "However, watching what just happened with the two items, I do think I understand what is happening here better. There is a Shelynite ceremony that you could assist me with that I believe will purify the items and lay this ghost to rest. First, I will teach you the song."
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"Oh, they are siblings? And estranged for that matter?" Avery learns something from the conversation before she follows the shopkeeper. She silently follows through with what is happening up the part where a certain spirit is summoned. The shopkeeper offers to cleanse it so that spirit might rest but she tells them something. "Might as well bring both objects together if we want that ghost to fully manifest himself."
"That wasn't the song I was going to teach you, but art is art!" Ralliadra says and then joins Jun-Mei in the song.
The ghost seems to calm and looks towards the music.
"Now, we need to try to understand what the spirit wants," Ralliadra says as she explains the next stage of the ritual.
With assistance, Jun-Mei is able to focus the spirit. His form becomes less blurry, and you can see his clothes are those of a noble's. The spirit also bears a long-tailed songbird pin upon his left breast. The sand in his hands become an ephemeral pair of women's hands that continually blow away and reform. "My love, my love... they took you from me... those chained priests thought I was a dangerous influence... where did they take you? I cannot live without you!"
Ralliadra says, "Ah! Do you hear him? The next stage of the ritual requires..."