The adventure begins as the Pathfinders are preparing to depart the Grand Lodge and head to the Gilded Carnival. The Pathfinders are invited to the carnival.
Esteemed Pathfinders—
As thanks for the warm welcome I’ve received from the people of Absalom, I graciously invite you to a delightful carnival hosted by none other than myself, Hesla Embersplitter. Come one, come all, for the food, the dancing, the games, and the prizes! All children under twelve are invited to attend for free, along with their chaperones. It is truly the least I can do for the people of this most glorious of cities. Let it be a day to remember for many years—no, the rest of our lives!
You’ll find the Gilded Carnival just down the street in the Foreign Quarter, practically on the doorstep of your esteemed Grand Lodge.
You can’t miss it! And I’m sure you don’t want to. I’ll be overjoyed to see you all there.
With gratitude, —Hesla Embersplitter
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A halfling woman with a headscarf on her head reads the invitation slowly to a fish that is sticking its head out of a pouch hanging from the halfling's belt. "Woohoo! This looks like fun! I bet there'll be lots of fish to try! Fun and games, uh, fishy?"
She heads to the meeting point. "Hey there. Glenda Huckleberry! Cook who was down on her luck and then was slapped by this fish for some reason. Since then been traveling along with it and it loves to slap, freeze, and now electrocute nasties. Also throws-- I mean, provides fresh food that tastes pretty decent!"
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A kobold with golden scales looks on and wonders what in the heck he just got himself into. Shaking his head, he walks up to the strange woman and holds out a hand ().
"Well met! Jinlong Dragonkin! I am named for the famed Pathfinder Adventurer Rhaegal Dragonkin! What is this place we are in? Hardly a place for a Dragon!"
Silently he thinks to himself, Where might you be, Rhaegal? he wonders...
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"Ooh, a carnival, sounds fun," a skeleton that clearly used to be a dwarf (based on the stocky build and wispy beard that still clings to the jawbone) sneers as he approaches the Pathfinders. "Though considering where I come from, the bearded lady will not impress."
After a beat, a chuckle escapes where his lips would have been. "Just kidding. My name is Bláinn, and this is my companion, Bob. I'm sure things will be great between us as long as everyone minds the fact that vitality magic is a skosh uncomfortable for me and Bob. I've got some of my own healing if need be."
A six and a half foot tall Kholo smirks to himself as he reads the invitation and heads to meet up with the other Pathfinders meeting together to travel to the Carnival. His smile widens even further when he sees the unique group lined up before him.
He adjusts the halfmoon spectacles that keep slipping off of his dog-like face, clearly designed for someone with a more human face shape.
"Haha, it will be hard indeed for this Carnival to have any attractions more interesting than we are, eh friends? I am Zatras, legendary Kholo inventor and this is my son, Zatras!"
Clattering up behind the Kholo is a mechanical reproduction of the inventor, as it raises its hand to wave a spark blooms out of its arm, followed by a plume of smoke.
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Arriving mounted on his black wolf the goblin wearing a dark blue dress with star motifs sings as usual. I'm a poor lonesome goblin, far away from home. I'm a poor lonesome goblin far far away from home.
He comments to his companions: A carnival, let's hope I will be allowed to sing my best song.
Then noticing something wrong. My name's Su Fix. And this is Wolf.
As the Pathfinders are about to leave, two Pathfinder faction leaders stop them: Urwal (male iruxi astrologer) and Eando Kline (male human venture-captain), the leaders of the Pathfinder Society’s Verdant Wheel and Vigilant Seal factions, respectively.
The sky above Absalom is a crisp blue, though the dark clouds on the horizon are an ill omen for what should otherwise be a day of delightful entertainment. Many Pathfinders have gathered in the courtyard of the Grand Lodge to walk together to the nearby Gilded Carnival, just a few blocks away in the city’s Foreign Quarter. The Pathfinders defy the oncoming clouds with their excitement and uplifted moods—but not all are quite so cheerful.
“Oh dear, oh my, how drippily dreadful,” says Urwal, leader of the Verdant Wheel faction. He suddenly perks up. “Oh, it’s you! I’ve been looking for you. Eando, I’ve found them!” Then he frowns again, gazing off at the clouds. “Oh, no, oh dear.”
Eando Kline strides over, waving and addressing the group. “Hello! Off to the carnival? If we could have a moment of your time—”
Urwal cuts in. “Before it’s too late! Before the rain begins! Before—sorry. It’s just that I had this horrible dream. It’s the clouds, you see. Or rather, what the clouds bring. Not just rain, but... pain! Danger! And something... uh... wet. But not just a normal kind of wet. Something awfully wet. Or... wetly awful? Wet and awful? I’m not entirely sure, but it’s not going to be good.”
Eando puts his hand on Urwal’s shoulder. “Now, now. A little rain never hurt anyone. But... I suppose I’ve seen stranger things in this line of work. You agents had best be on the lookout for anything strange, or even dangerous, while you’re at the carnival. I’m not saying I have issues with Hesla Embersplitter or the carnival itself, but she seems to be making major moves in the city, and we’re not sure what to make of them just yet. Be careful, and stick together throughout the carnival, just in case.”
Urwal holds out some berries and says, “yes, extra careful! And just to be safe, eat these before you go! They’ll keep you safe from the rain’s effects. I’m sure of it.”
"Do you have any questions before you go?" Eando asks them.
"Um.. so what do we need to know about Hesla Embersplitter?"
Eando says, “Well, there are plenty of rumors. Would you believe me if I told you she’s actually a fortune dragon in disguise? A banished member of House Thrune? I certainly don’t believe it, but each rumor I hear about her is wilder than the last! The only one I believe, as I’ve heard it multiple times, is that it seems she’s spending quite a bit of time with Watcher-Lord Ulthun.”
Urwal, on the other hand, motions to them to eat the berries he has just given them. "Those literally came to me in a dream! They’ll keep you safe from the rain’s effects. I’m sure of it.” he says with conviction, looking to the Pathfinders to make sure they eat the berries.
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Bláinn puts the berry in his mouth, and then it is gone. The details of how that happens is best left as an exercise for the reader.
"I'm usually a little on the dry side," Bláinn says, gesturing at his lack of, well, any organ that requires moisture. "Any idea why the rain might be so hurtful to us."
Zatras, seeing his companions' trust in the odd Iruxi agrees to eat the berry.
"My son unfortunately cannot eat, do you think he will be safe from the rain?"
Unfamiliar with what has been happening in Absalom for the last few months, Zatras ponders for a moment as he chews on his berry.
"Urwal, why are you so worried about the rain? Is there anything specific we should be watching out for?"
Urwal responds, but somewhat unrelated to the inquiry. “The death of a god changes so much, so much in so little time. You don’t have much time.” He says and makes sure everyone has eaten the berries he gave them before they leave.
"You can rub the berries on their faces, will still work the same." Urwal advises and makes sure Zatras does so before they go for the mission.
When the Pathfinders arrive, the carnival is already well under way.
Fire eating, games of chance, juggling clowns, dancing bears, enchanted fireworks, friendly footraces, rhyming contests—these are but a few of the countless attractions on offer at the Gilded Carnival! Throngs of excited people from all walks of life stretch along multiple city blocks. Vibrant golden lanterns, sparkling with magic, mark the event’s perimeter, though the fun and laughter has no such boundary. Children run to and fro, playfully eluding their exasperated chaperones, while the fancifully dressed “guards” seem content to allow anyone and everyone to come and go as they please, hardly bothering to inspect invitations. Most people pay no mind to the gathering storm clouds, but the lines at the indoor attractions are getting long, and a few people have begun congregating beneath the awnings near the street food vendors, just in case.
A woman wearing battered armor drums a tambourine with the hilt of her dagger. “Donations, please! Donations for the cause! Every copper helps win the fight! Donations, donations! One gold buys a shield to save a warrior’s life! Donating three gold buys a holy water to keep the dead at bay! Donations!”
Zatras stares agape at his companions' remarkable generosity
"There is simply no way that we can afford to donate any more to the Knights of Lastwall. No no no, simply no way"
As he rants, his mechanical companion reaches into Zatras' pack and donates a gold piece to the cause.
The woman beats her tambourine with joy for every gold piece the Pathfinders contribute.
"Thank you so much for your donations! The donations are for Hesla’s fund for the fight against Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, who commands legions of undead and threatens all of Avistan with ruination. Every copper helps!" she tells them cheerfully.
Zaos: 3 gp
Glenda: 3 gp
Zatras: 1 gp
Su: 1 gp
Blainn: 1 gp
Meanwhile, the Pathfinders notice that a man in an Eagle Knight uniform is standing near a fountain decorated with seashells, driftwood, and fake “pirate treasure.” He’s attempting to placate a gaggle of children of all ages, but most of them seem upset, and some are wandering off to look for trouble elsewhere. One of the older children is surprisingly the most upset of the bunch—she’s carrying a baby goblin in a chest harness. She grabs the man’s sleeve and says, “Oh, please, Sir Dacilane. My little brother would love it so, so much! You don’t want me to have to disappoint little Pin, do you?”
Little Pin, for his part, is busy picking his nose, but when his older sister holds him up to the Sir Dacilane, Pin begins to wail, as if on cue.
“I’m sorry,” says J Dacilane, the man in the Eagle Knight uniform. “I’m clearly not good enough to win the goldfish! Maybe we’d better move along, find another game?”
The wailing intensifies. Upon seeing the Pathfinders, J Dacilane perks up. “Pathfinders! Wonderful! Gather ‘round, students! Surely, with their tremendous talent, these Pathfinders can win the Gilded Goldfish, and we can be on our way!” He leans in and whispers to the Pathfinders, “Please help.”
The one carrying the baby goblin approaches herself to Glenda. "Vim Moneymaker. And yes, my brother is a goblin too." she offers a hand to shake. "I don't if the goldfish can be eaten, I think no? Anyway, would you like to win that goldfish prize for my brother, please?"
J responds to Jinlong. "Well met, Jinlong. Thank you for helping, in advance. I assume your friends here would not mind helping us." J motions to follow them. He gathers them in an area with a host standing in front of makeshift shelves near the fountain. Each shelf holds multiple glass bowls with a variety of small fish and trinkets, but one prize stands out: an iridescent goldfish that glows with silvery light.
"Welcome! Are you here for the game? Well you are in luck!" the host begins. "Catch the biggest fish in the fountain on your first try and win the Gilded Goldfish! If you catch a smaller fish, or catch the biggest fish on a subsequent try, you can pick any other prize, but not the goldfish. And you must use these fishing rods." the hosts gives them fishing rod.
Su Fix observes the fish movement. Blain acts to create a distraction, of which the host turns in the direction. Zaos tries to catch the biggest fish, but he can do that later. Glenda consults Fishy about fish behaviour. Jinlong inquires of the host and convinces him to give another fishing rod.
The students gather around the Pathfinders who are now ready for the fishing game. Glenda, with practiced ease and sharp skill, lands the biggest fish in a single effortless cast with no sweat, just precision. The students jump and scream with joy at catching the grand prize!
The host scratches his head as he provides a fishbowl with water for the goldfish.
"Wow! You are really good at this." J commends Glenda and gives her two oils of mending and two potions of water breathing in exchange for the fish in the bowl. He can see that Vim is relieved because Pin stops wailing.
"Now I have to carry this fishbowl while keeping the students out of trouble," J says begrudgingly. "Anyway, thank you for your help and enjoy your stay here in the carnival!"
As the carnival progresses, the weather grows increasingly strange, though.
While some of them are inspecting the sudden strangeness of the weather, a finely dressed woman smiles wryly while approaching them and says, “ah, look! Some of the Pathfinder agents I invited. Please, join us! I would hear what you have to say about my Gilded Carnival! I trust you’re enjoying yourselves—and I heard that all of you have donated to the cause?”
Hesla invites them to an elaborate, furnished carnival tent as her court. While anyone can come and go, the overstated wealth of those gathered around Hesla and the glares they give to anyone who isn’t obviously one of Absalom’s highest elites, causes most of the carnival goers to avoid the tent and its occupants.
Zatras, knowing that Hesla is all about forcing back the undead, tries to engage her on the topic which he has studied in depth!
He might stumble with his words a little, but the foundation of his knowledge is firm!
While he's not the best at reading people, he gives it a go to see how the conversation is going at least!
Hesla eyes Glenda with a raised brow, her smile still sharp. “Fun, is it?” she says, voice low and amused. “That depends on where you’re standing. But I suppose a little wonder helps people forget what’s lurking in the dark.”
Hesla watches the group carefully, her smile sharp and a little dangerous. When Zatras mentions the undead, her eyes light up with interest.
“Hmm. Someone who knows what really matters,” she says. Then she looks to Jinlong and Su Fix. “And you two Pathfinders, I am happy that you are enjoying the carnival.”
She tilts her head, the glint in her eyes still fierce but a bit more friendly now. “Keep it up, and I might start to think you’re not just here to stare and stumble.”
Hesla hands Su Fix a diplomat's badge. Take this as a fitting gift for those with such an esteemed role in the city—no, across all of Golarion, to the Gravelands and beyond.” she says before she leaves them to enjoy the carnival.
Nearby, the Pathfinders can hear that Hesla starts speaking to peers. Her tone stays cool and measured, but the group hears bits and pieces—subtle praise about them.
“Pathfinders? They speak the right words,” she murmurs to one. “Not just gawking or babbling like the rest.”
To another: “You can tell when someone’s actually paying attention. These ones? Sharp eyes.”
It’s clear she’s trying to make herself look clever for spotting “promising visitors,” rather than offering real compliments. Still, the effect is real: the small crowd around her starts looking at the group with a bit more interest—and trust.
On the other hand, Zarta waves to the Pathfinders and introduces herself and her company. Zarta’s exasperation shows through her thin smile as she hands a flaky biscuit to her companion. “Khione here has been telling me all about... well, everything. I don’t suppose you agents have a few minutes to spare? I could use a break from all this hustle and bustle. Why don’t you talk to Khione for a few minutes? I’m sure you’ve got lots to talk about. And if not... she certainly does!”
Khione smiles, nodding enthusiastically, and launches into a barrage of questions as Zarta vanishes into a nearby bookseller’s tent for a well-deserved break.
“So! What was your most recent mission? Something thrilling, I hope!” she asks, leaning in with wide eyes. “Did you get into any trouble? Meet anyone interesting?”
“What do you think of Watcher Lord Ulthun? Or Tar-Baphon? Gorum’s death—wild, right?” Then just as quickly, she shifts gears: “Favorite pastry?"
She occasionally pauses to take a bite of her pastry, giving the Pathfinders an opportunity to speak up.