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Short horns rise out of black hair atop the average height Tiefling who stands with you. His fingernails look almost claw-like and his skin is dark in complexation. He wears long red and black slashed robes that are slit for his barbed tail to stick out. A hefty looking tome hangs from a carrier on his belt.
"Greetings everyone."
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WwG is a rather scruffy looking human dressed in a jumble of clothing, carrying a rather long spear, and wearing scale male that looks like it has been assembled from mismatching sets.
"Greetings, all. May the spirits guide us."
By his side is a snow white hare. Very curious and getting into everyone's business until WwG lets a tuber of some sort drop to the ground.
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A slim figure in unremarkable clothes stands next to you, a pair of exotic light elvish blades at her belt. If you successfully peek under the hood of her cloak gets to see the face of an elvish woman... with a large scar going diagonally from the upper left of her forehead to the lower right of her chin.
"Name's Rosla, Rosla El Func."
You have all gathered in Dryblade House, the Society's curiously-named Lodge in Daggermark, a chaotic River Kingdom that maintains a semblance of stability via a common understanding among its residents: Those who draw their neighbor’s ire often end up dead.
For now, all seems peaceful (save for the weather), and you await the appearance of Venture-Captain Istivil Bosk. The time is half-past 10 in the morning.
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Rosla answers Cara Baldaros: "You'll complain about the travelling conditions? Why? I heard that clerics can control the weather - and isn't your Dawnflower literally the goddess of the sun? So, instead of complaining, maybe do something about it, huh?"
Seems that Rosla isn't the diplomatic type... at all.
Steady sleet patters against the window of Dryblade House, breaking up the Lodge’s eerie silence. Venture-Captain Istivil Bosk emerges from his office accompanied by a Dwarf in a military uniform, who pulls a flask from his coat pocket and fills two small glasses with vodka.
“I’ve already made excuses to my superiors, and I’ll check in myself every few hours to make sure the safe house is still secure,” the Dwarf rumbles, handing one glass to the Venture-Captain. “You focus on hammering out your agent’s escape route.”
“Already working on it,” Bosk replies. The two raise their glasses in a toast.
“Then may we take this story to our graves, and drag our heels the whole way there,” the Dwarf proclaims as they each down their vodka. The Dwarf sets his glass on the table, dons a thick wool cloak, and trudges out into the sleet.
“That was Brandur Clovesh, a sergeant in Daggermark’s infantry,” Bosk explains, closing the door after his departed guest. “Please excuse his brevity. He’s taking a big risk to help me out of a dire situation, the same situation that led me to request your aid. One of our local agents, a Gnome named Timinic, has been exploring and surveying the sewer complexes beneath Daggermark. I made sure to clear his activities with every official possible so we wouldn’t draw unwanted attention from the Assassin’s Guild or the Poisoner’s Guild, which run the city behind the scenes. To my knowledge we’ve stayed in the Guilds’ good graces, but somehow Timinic’s mission ran afoul of...!!!”
A fit of coughing interrupts Bosk mid-sentence, and he begins gasping and clutching his chest. His vodka glass shatters as it tumbles from his hand. Moments later, the Venture-Captain collapses.
From the floor, he flails one arm desperately in the direction of his desk. "POTION...RRRKHHH...!"
The potion he wants is easy to find.
Cara puts the "Car" in "care" as she is ready with first aid; it does seem to be helping....
The potion he wants is easy to find.
Rosla and Walks with Giants fumble over the desk in search of the potion, but don't manage to do much more than make a perfect coconut-sound as they put their heads together more literally than figuratively.
Tempestas moves toward the desk, and...
Salron does not recognize anything he'd call "magical".
Istivil looks up at Cara with a complicated mixture of horror, animal desperation, and resignation in his rheumy old eyes.
"You've got to find Brandur...!"
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"Ouch! Be careful where you put that big head of yours!", Rosla barks, then continues searching.
(...) Action: Most Perception checks are reactive, made in response to observable stimulus. Intentionally searching for stimulus is a move action. (...) (Source)
Perhaps it's just because he'd rather be outdoors in the invigorating sleet, but Walks with Giants takes a very direct approach to Istivil's plea...but for a Dwarf, Sgt. Clovesh sure seems to move quickly; he is nowhere to be found.
Cara conducts a moment's mental triage, while the 3 Stooges finally knock loose a secret compartment containing a potion!
Istivil's breathing is getting faster and more strained; his eyes seem to be losing focus on anything in particular, but suddenly there is a fresh flare of intensity in them.
"TIMINIC!!! You've GOT to find Timinic as quickly as possible, before it’s too late...!"
Tempestas delivers the goods, Salron verifies its contents (delay poison), Cara administers it, aaaand...
...in the blink of an eye, Bosk's expression turns from one of incipient relief and gratitude, to shock, primal panic, and horror as a thick, white, foamy substance comes bursting out of his mouth, nostrils, and even tear ducts before hardening, saturating and jamming tight his entire respiratory system!
Istivil Bosk, Venture-Captain of Daggermark, is dead.
The time is still roughly half-past 10 in the morning, and you are now alone in Dryblade House.
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"What the h@!! just happened!?"
Rosla is stunned by the unexpected effects of the potion, but quickly comes to her senses.
"Okay... let's focus... the VC's dead and we can't do anything about it right now, so... let's go find Brandur and Timinic."
Rosla moves outside Bosk's office and looks for Walks with Giants.
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Cara screams is frustration.
NO! Nononononono! she yells as her eyes start to well up.
I swear when we find the person who did this, I'm going to crack their head open with this...and as Sarenrae to forgive me afterwards... She says as she pats her morning star after closing the dead VC's eyes and crossing his hands over his chest. She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic.
Never had someone fie in my arms before...that's not a good way to start a missions is it?
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The greensting scorpion is picked up off the desktop and moves to rest on Salron's shoulder. "Well that was an unexpected outcome. We will need to inform the Grand Lodge of his death but only after we track down his killer and bring him to justice."
"We have multiple people to locate and speak with plus two guilds who might have had a hand in what just happened. We need to locate Brandur Clovesh and Timinic, if he still lives, and question both. We may also need to speak with both the Assassin's Guild and the Poisoner's Guild. We should also check for any clues a suspect left behind here.'
"So everyone where do you want to start?'
Openly discussing assassinations makes locals jumpy, so Guild contractors use coded language to discuss targets. Guild contacts typically refer to assassins as “specialists” related to whatever job they use as a public front.
Here in Dryblade House, you face three objects of interest :
The ex-Venture-Captain:
Cara knows Bosk was dying of heart-failure due to an extraordinarily fast-acting poison, but in her distress, is struggling to figure out just what it would've been...
Aconite root in particular is known for its association with Daggermark’s Poisoner’s Guild.
There is the little matter of the bizarre foam now stuffing the body. There is no mistaking the substance's odor: Intense and waxy, like burning vinegar. A much more subdued version of it still clings to the shards of Bosk's vodka glass.
It is known to have been recently burglarized.
His desk:
After a thorough combing by Walks With Giants, Rosla approaches the task with more patience: She finds it covered with maps and surveys of the Daggermark sewer complexes, all made by an industrious Pathfinder named Timinic. Rosla notices that most of his excursions began at the Dripping Wall Distillery.
Timinic’s field notes also mention several encounters with suspicious folk lurking in the sewers near the distillery, and include requests to
provide extra security for the distillery’s proprietor, Ramyla.
A small safe in the corner:
Before he expired, you call Venture-Captain Bosk had been glancing in the direction of this little safe; he probably anticipated needing to get something out of it for your intended briefing, which, in turn, probably means he'd left it less secure than it could be - a bit of good news under the circumstances!
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"This city is a piece of work. Mostly behind the times, as far as civilizations go, they considerably advanced in the 'arts' of poisoning. They have a guild dedicated to assassination and ANOTHER dedicated to poisons and, though they do keep a low profile, both have considerable influence in the city behind the scenes. Probably more responsible than the militia or guards for keeping order around here. You piss them off and you end up dead. Like our friend over there. If we are lucky, whoever did this did not do it with the blessing of these guilds."
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You are able to figure out the character of the initial poison: Dark reaver powder laced with aconite root and several other adulterants to enhance its potency; this was an intricate and customized recipe that is not available on the market.
Aconite root in particular is known for its association with Daggermark’s Poisoner’s Guild.
When she sees Tempestas try o use a crowbar on the safe she calls out: "Hey! Don't damage the safe, there's no need to - I'll open it in a minute." The rogue takes her time to check the safe for traps, then gets out her tools and tries to open it.