Seeker tier awaits... please dot and delete.
For the first time in your careers as Pathfinder, you have received orders that come directly from the Decemvirate.
You can convene in the Grand Lodge in Absalom to begin your journey. Please make your introductions, with a brief physical description.
For reasons unbeknownst to you, the Decemvirate wish you to take a water route rather than teleportation. You will travel across the Inner Sea and up the Sellen River, which will take about a week. You can assume that the basic provisions for such a journey are covered, but it can't hurt to have supplies.
Please note what spells you will prepare for a typical day of travel.
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A serious looking elf looks around the lodge before heading to the ship. He checks his gears and makes sure everything is snugged down. He carries a gleaming elvish sword on his side, and curiously enough, a huge orcish bow on his back. when he moves there is almost no sound at all.
I'm Rallas...nice to meet you all...
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A burly half-orc with a broken left tusk nods. "Name's Trokkus," he says gruffly. His left arm easily bears the weight of a shield with the angelic ankh holy symbol of Sarenrae etched into its surface, while his right hand is encased in a spiked gauntlet. "Hope the Decemvirate knows what it's doing in sending the Pale Maiden to Galt. Place is a real mess."
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A Garundi woman with brown skin and brown hair pulled back in a ponytail approaches the group. She is dressed in a blue silk robe underneath a mithral breastplate. Her brown eyes sparkle with intelligence and warmth behind a pair of silver spectacles. On her back, she carries a Handy Haversack. "Hello everyone!" She waves. "I am Katswiri, the Blue Diamond Sage, and a powerful Seer. I'll be supporting us with divine magic and my divinations, which will hopefully help us detect danger well in advance."
"I've been to Galt before, but this will be my first time going to Woodsedge lodge, and my first mission as a Seeker. I always enjoy missions with a boat ride to start, it gives time to apply divinations and other magical assistance to the tasks at hand."
She taps her glasses. "The gods took my hearing in exchange for my powers at a young age, but I have magical glasses that allow me to read the words on your lips. Please let me know if there is anything audible I need to know about that might be out of line of sight or not visually obvious."
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Receiving a mission directly from the Decemvirate surprises Marc. And after all this time, too. It seems they had been paying attention, though; he was at a slow period in his duties, and could make arrangements to be away until this mission was over.
Preparing his gear for his first mission out in years, he notices a couple of gaps that need filling. Probably a new journal, too. And the trail rations, when he finally finds them, were quite spoiled.
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A well-groomed Taldan man in adventuring leathers paired with golden-brown fabric arrives at the ship. His beard is neatly trimmed, and his breastplate is spotless. At his back are a backpack and a quiver. His belt holds a warhammer, a sap, a wayfinder, two pouches, and... manacles? He's wearing what seem to be finely-crafted gloves, and his left hand has another glove over that with silver plates at the knuckles.
"Hello the boat!" he calls to the others as he approaches. A quick check shows that yes, this is the right boat. "I am Marc Langley, Marquis in Taldor, heir Arpador. But unless our mission takes us back to Taldor, just call me Marc. I wouldn't imagine the titles would go over well in Galt." Backwards place, Galt. They'd have been better off had they rejoined Taldor, rather than just breaking away from Cheliax.
"I don't cast spells, but I might be able to use scrolls or wands we find. I tend to trip and disarm people, and generally keep them from getting to the more vulnerable members. If that won't work, however, I'm quite good with a bill.
He watches the approach for more Pathfinders.
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It's been a while since Sorithar had been off chasing relics for Zarta and the title of Seeker, though formalized, has meant little. He'd been deep in study on the upper floors of the lodge in Absalom, taking a break from mentoring young Pathfinder apprentices when the missive arrived.
The Decemvirate, Galt, Pale Maiden... The grin is almost immediate. He'd missed this after all... Though he is surprised the Decemvirate has taken notice of him suddenly. Wondering if he'll cross paths with any old companions, he heads for his room to dust off some well worn equipment, in a manner of speaking. He didn't really let things get dusty.
As he prepares, he ponders the missive, even as Zarta's predictable message soon follows.
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A tall man of clearly Taldan decent, Sorithar steps into the room, last to arrive at the party. His naturally bronze toned skin and dark brown, flowing hair reflects his ancestry. Unlike most of his descent however, his eyes bare a clear purple tint, likely a hereditary trait of ancient Azlanti blood. Like most men of Taldor, he wears his beard short but well groomed, now streaked with some silver.
He is garbed in finely wrought, burgundy robes. A smaller crossbow hangs from a hook on the purple sash at his waist, across from a pouch of bolts. He walks with a well worn, black basalt staff in hand that seems almost alive, twisting into random irregular geometric patterns as he moves.
On several of his fingers are gleaming rings of gold, bronze and other hues. A finely wrought, slim silvery headband sits upon his brow and short, tapered wands are tucked into the sash at his waist.
Sorithar nods deeply at Marc first. "Your excellency. Your name proceeds you. Our paths cross for the glory of Taldor!" Turning to the others, he nods in greeting. "A pleasure to make all of your acquaintances. Sorithar Ark'nroth at your service. Whatever good that might be. I dabble in the arcane arts and the mysteries of the past.
I gather we're all here at the behest of the same patron?"
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Cast heightened awareness and refer to Adventurer's Chronicle:
Take 20 on Knowledge (History) in the Lodge library for a result of 42 regarding Durvin Gest and the Pale Maiden blade.
Take 20 on Knowledge (History) in the Lodge library for a result of 42 regarding Galt.
Take 20 on Knowledge (Local) in the Lodge library for a result of 34 regarding Venture Captain Eliza Petulengro.
@Sorithar:
You know a great many stories about Durvin Gest and the Pale Maiden blade. There is really nothing especially pertinent to the events of this scenario (besides the information on the handout), but you can bring in any other player knowledge you might have about Durvin Gest (such as from Ruins of Azlant if you've played that).
Similarly, you know a great deal about the revolution-torn nation of Galt. The bloody Red Revolution has held the whole of Galt in its thrall for decades, and even today power can shift at a moment’s notice. The ruling council of one year (the Revolutionary Council in the capital of Isarn) might lose their heads in the next, only to be replaced by the next breed of idealistic social engineers. You no doubt know the names of many past Revolutionary Council members and their dates of execution. The only constants are chaos, the Mob, and the masked order of executioners known as the Gray Gardeners. The Gray Gardeners operate above the law, executing whoever they deem to be enemies of the Revolution with the infamous Final Blades, guillotines which trap the souls of the slain.
Eliza Petulengro is a venture-captain who hails from Galt. She returned to her homeland to reclaim the damaged Woodsedge Lodge on behalf of the Pathfinder Society. Eliza is a talented diviner with a vast memory for text, names, and faces. She has a habit of calling initiates by name even after meeting them only once. She invented the spell Petulengro's Validation to detect doppelgangers.
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Katswiri perks up with interest at Sorithar's introduction. "And its a pleasure to meet you as well! The arcane arts and the mysteries of the past? Those are some of my greatest interests. Though I love knowledge in all its forms, I've always had a special focus in History and Arcana."
"Recently, I was able to devise a way to power Arcane spells by forcing my own Divine energies through a scroll or spellbook representation to sculpt the power into the proper form. It destroys the text, but there are many useful applications of arcane spells that are not easily replicated by Divine power."
"I had a fruitful collaboration with a skilled Wayang illusionist after my last mission, so my Blessed Book is currently heavily weighted towards Illusion magic. I would like to balance out my selection, especially with Conjuration or Enchantment spells. It seems we should have some time on the trip; would you like to collaborate with me and share the spells we have scribed?"
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"Escort mission?" Marc confirms.
"Did anyone else think the situation is odd? No teleportation, taking a single specific ship..." He looks at the sword, then back to Sorithar and Katswiri. "Can either of you tell if there's some kind of magic on the sword? Some way to track it? What if the Decemvirate want the item to be stolen, so they can track the thieves?"
It would be a convoluted plan, and overly dangerous for the agents, but... he'd seen worse plans.
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"Hm. It's possible; there's a few techniques that can be used to hide enchantments from casual inspection with Detect Magic or Arcane Sight. Identify can possibly pierce Magic Aura. I will attempt it and see if it uncovers anything. I can also attempt to see with my vision if that is the case, though attempts to divine against the Decimvirate's actions often fail."
When the party has the Pale Maiden (is it on the ship, or do we need to pick it up after we're ready to go?), Katswiri will Bestow Insight herself and cast Identify.
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Sorithar nods at Marc's comment and then regards Katswiri. "Power Arcane spells by forcing Divine energies through a text to sculpt the power into the proper form... Fascinating. A shame to destroy any text, I tend to hold them quite sacred, but fascinating nonetheless.
There are, of course, many useful applications of divine magic that are not easily replicated by the arcane as well. I wonder if your discovery has applications the other way...
Either way, it has always been my pleasure to exchange spells with fellow Pathfinders. I shall be happy to open my spellbook to you once we leave port." Sorithar studies Katswiri as he speaks and suddenly raises his eyebrows as if he'd understood something. "You're deaf. Interesting. Do you know any sign language? Or do you just read lips?"
Turning to Marc, he nods thoughtfully. "Odd indeed. Though the ten do like to work in mysterious ways. Does feel a bit like we're bait though. Not used to acting on so little information, but nothing like some seafaring to calm the nerves!"
As the party departs and moves down to the docks, Sorithar shares what he knows for the benefit of those with less experience in these particular matters. As for the blade, when the time comes, he watches patiently as Katswiri works her magic.
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"Indeed, destroying a scribed spell is not ideal, in time or materials. Unfortunately, I have so far been unable to mitigate the destruction. Though I acquired a Blessed Book, in which I have scribed each spell twice. When I cast a spell this way, I can rescribe it from its copy."
"I have done some research on sign languages, but haven't encountered one with sufficient use and documentation to dedicate my time to learning it. Fortunately, my glasses make reading lips much easier, and mitigate most difficulties in communication."
Katswiri will buy access to scribe Shrink Item before she leaves the lodge, along with extra canvas for painting.
A week passes.
Despite the worries of the Decemvirate, your voyage across the Inner Sea and up the Sellen River to the Galtan town of Woodsedge sees few dangers, and you reach your destination without ever having to draw your weapons. The whole nation of Galt remains in the thrall of a bloody revolution, and while signs of desperation, poverty, and even violence abound, none of it has prevented you from your mission. The Pale Maiden remains safe, and you have successfully completed your first direct task for the secretive inner circle of the Pathfinder Society. Sooner than you had expected, you find yourselves standing on the outer stair of the Woodsedge Lodge.
Situated on immense grounds just outside the town proper, the luxurious manor house is marred by cracked plaster, missing windows, and rotting shingles, but a well-groomed topiary hints at a building coming back from a near-death encounter with Revolution and abandonment.
How do you approach?
Map is up; please place your icons on the stairs or grass to the south, or indicate that you are hanging back further.
Please note any spells that you would have cast. It is about noon.
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"This is the right house, isn't it?" Marc double-checks with the others. Loyalty to your nation, sure. He probably knew more about that than most of the rabble in this nation-sized riot. But this. This needed quite a bit of work. The shingles alone... why would you spend time on making the gardening look good before fixing the roof you lived under?
Maybe they had to keep the outside looking ruined so the mob didn't come in to actually ruin it?
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Katswiri spends the trip painting, talking magic and trading spells with Sorithar, reading and watching the scenery float by. She does several landscapes, then uses her Seer abilities to paint several prominent scenes from her adventuring career in incredible detail.
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"It is...probably structurally sound? Maybe they haven't had the time or resources to fix it up yet?" She looks doubtfully at the state of the house and the garden, but follows Trokkus up to the door.
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"At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if loyalty to the country is all that's keeping the Venture-Captain here." Family could be moved, the lands were obviously not something they could care for...
"Did your divinations mention anything about us dying in a building collapse?" he asks Katswiri, only half-joking.
Maybe the topiaries were part of the defense? He'd brought back those notes some time ago, so the researchers must have had time to look over them and learn how it worked.
--Is anyone planning to attack us today?
--Is anyone planning to attack us tonight while we sleep?
--Is anyone planning to try and steal the Pale Maiden from us today?
--Are there any hazards that might seriously threaten us in our path for today's journey?
"No" to all of those.
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"No...though keep in mind, I'm usually only looking for serious threats or direct intent to attack us. I tried looking for any danger at all a few times, but there's always something that could hurt you."
Katswiri looks at the disrepair with some trepidation. "Which probably means its stable enough, but could also mean we're fast and strong enough to not really be in danger from a collapse. I rely on my visions substantially, but its always good to still stay on our toes."
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Moving up behind Marc, Sorithar claps him on the shoulder and smiles. His resonant voice conveys humor.
"Not much to look at, but a building collapse would be rather the least violent way to go of those we've typically faced on these missions, no?
If not quietly in bed, I'd accept a building collapse as an alternative.
Also, what fun is divination? Knowing I'm going to die takes all the fun out of it!
Sometimes a ramshackle house is just a ramshackle house. Particularly in a ramshackle nation. Now, we've travelled long enough to get here and there might be drink inside, shall we?
Actually, Rallas, perhaps a stealthy reconnaissance around the building, in case someone else is planning a visit while we're here?"
Sorithar looks to Trokkus and Rallas.
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Katswiri raises an eyebrow. "True...a building collapse would be much more pleasant than some of the ways I've been attacked. Personally though, I am rather fond of divination. Its saved my life or the mission many times over my career. Seeing any mistakes I will make while performing a task and simply choosing not to make them is always satisfying."
She smiles, a steely glint forming in her eye. "My favorite though is predicting all of an enemy's possible effective actions and watching them struggle in futility as everything they do fails due to being preemptively countered. There's nothing quite like the feeling of an opponent playing their trump card only to watch it do absolutely nothing."
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Sorithar grins at Katswiri.
”Didn’t mean to offend, my friend. Divinations have their place. Also, remind me not to play cards with you.”
Sorithar winks and turns to Mark with dramatically raised eyebrows.
”They didn’t have the decency to send along a caster that would teleport you..? For shame! What’s the Society coming to? Can’t spare a bauble to teleport and now this lodge… You’d think we’re all a ragtag band of random strangers risking our lives for private reasons at the whims of the Decemvirate.
Oh, wait…
I could use that drink.”
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"Oof." Katswiri winces. "I'm glad we're not going to have that problem with this team. Thanks to Sorithar, I can cast teleport now. With both of us able to, we should be able to sidestep problems like that."
"Before this trip, I would have had to planeshift us to Nirvana with my Mneumonic Vestments and scroll of plane shift, wait a day and planeshift back. Its nice there, and a much better place to wait than sealed in a bunker, but...still. And planeshift accuracy is terrible, can't shift back to Absalom or you end up way out in the inner sea half the time, and some random country around the edge most of the rest."
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"I believe we were told they were all busy" Marc says. It had been several years since the mission, and the details were a little fuzzy. "There were more people in need than just us, and I suspect the area needed to be stabilized and have emergency tunnels connected. The Society at least prepared us a strong bunker before everything happened, so we weren't the priority."
Although they only barely made it into the bunker in time. And the sudden violent tremor, the creaking of the roof, the stone groaning... definitely not his favorite mission destination. They'd saved everyone else, though, and noblesse oblige.
Rallas starts to slip off, though he is more noticeable than he would like to be.
He doesn't get very far around the lodge before the huge doors of the Woodsedge Lodge open with a slow creak.
A tall, bulky figure takes form in the gloom within, emerging into the sunlight with a gap-toothed smile and a bushy blond beard. It’s your old venture-captain from Absalom, Adril Hestram!
The huge man chuckles with a belly laugh at the sight of you. “I was wondering who they would send! The Ten choose wisely, of course! You did receive your orders to come here from the Decemvirate themselves, didn’t you? The servants are clucking that you bear the Pale Maiden. Is it true? May I wield the blade?”
"You all worry too much!" laughs the Venture-Captain. "I know what you can handle, and I would not fear some rabble of Galtan agitators."
"Truth be told, there is something I would be less comfortable saying inside the Lodge."
He leans in and speaks in a conspiratorial whisper.
“They won’t say why we’ve all been called here, but it’s obvious the Pale Maiden is just a cover story. I’ve been… studying up on the Ten. I think I’m about to be promoted into their ranks. It was only a matter of time. My guess is that you’re here to represent my efforts as a venture-captain. I’ve no doubt you’ll make a very convincing argument for my promotion.
“Things will have to change between us if this happens. You’ve always been honest, dependable agents for me, so I’m telling you while I still can. After it happens, we will all be sworn to utter secrecy, for the identities of the Ten are the most treasured secrets of the Pathfinder Society. For now, though, I want you to know that I trust you implicitly, and I hope that you trust me. Once I have been made one of the Ten, even if we can no longer discuss it openly, I want you to know that I will always do what is right by you.”
“And it might be bending the rules a bit to say that, as it wouldn't look great for one of the Ten to seem to have favorites. So that's the reason for my caution. Mum's the word.” He looks inside the Lodge.
"Well, let's go greet Eliza."
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Adril Hestram leads you inside the Woodsedge Lodge. The filigreed front doors open into a spacious great room with an enormous fireplace against the opposite wall. Elegant upholstered chairs and couches scattered about the chamber present an inviting, luxurious atmosphere, as if the whole place had been designed for fashionable lounging.
A sweeping stair beside the fireplace leads to the balconies of the mansion’s second floor, which look down upon the room as if it were a stage. A scuffed and oddly stained red carpet runs down the center of the stair, showing that work yet remains to restore the Woodsedge Lodge to its former glory. Some elements, like the threadbare stuffed owlbear in one corner, hint more at the past than the future, but things are coming along.
Adril leads on to the west, through a fine wooden door and into a woodpaneled corridor rich with the smell of fresh onions and simmering meat stew. The passage continues several feet to the north, with doors leading to chambers beyond. Adril bounds through the southernmost doors across the hall, leading you into a richly appointed meeting room where two figures are seated at a huge oak table near several empty chairs obviously intended for you. Adril points to a male human garbed in crude leathers wearing a necklace of bird skulls.
“This here is Osprey,” he says. “Honorable fellow, a friend to all and a Society man, tall and true. His keen eyes see much among the Pathfinders that others miss, and his counsel is unparalleled in our order.”
Adril turns to the gorgeous red-haired woman sitting at the head of the table, her pale face a marble bust of confidence and control. “And this,” he says, his cheeks taking on a touch of red and his mouth curving into a slightly lecherous grin, “is Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro, the Lady of the Lodge.”
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"Welcome to my home of Woodsedge," says Eliza. "I am pleased that the Ten are taking notice of my efforts and choose to have the Pale Maiden sent here."
If any of you have done missions for her before, she remembers your name and abilities. If you haven't, then she's curious about you.
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Sorithar listens intently to Hestram's conspiratorial assumptions and maintains a neutral expression. The VC was assuming rather a lot, but who's to say he was wrong and if he appreciated Sorithar's work, having a link to the leadership in any form couldn't hurt.
At Hestram's suggestion that they move in to meet their host, Sorithar smiles and nods silently, following along, not quite first or last. He studies their surroundings carefully as they travel through the lodge. Not due to suspicion, but as a matter of policy and habit. One never knew when one might need to teleport somewhere...
Having not met either Osprey or VC Eliza in the past, Sorithar bows his head respectfully to each in turn, lingering on the attractive VC.
"A pleasure, to make both your acquaintances. I think I can speak for my companions when I say it was the least we could do for The Ten and your cause Venture Captain Petulengro. May it bring honor and fortune upon your lodge.
Speaking of which, thank you for hosting us!"
Sorithar takes a seat in one of the empty chairs, leaning his staff at his side.
"We have not met before, but I suspect by now that you know more about me than I do about you. I am but a lowly Cyphermage and a servant of the Society and the Dark Archive as needs arise. An arcanist by training.
If I may I be so blunt, why Woodsedge and why now? Why have The Ten taken interest? Other than your reputation lady, that is."
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Katswiri raises an eyebrow at Hestram's assertions, but says nothing. She is curious to see if his guess ends up being correct and what all of this ends up being about in the end.
Katswiri follows Hestram into the lodge, looking around the area with approval. She enters the room as Hestram provides introductions, nodding solemnly at Osprey. "Osprey, it is good to see you again. Its been some time since that trouble with the mountain. That was the last time I was in Galt, actually. I'm hoping this time I don't end up catching Mummy Rot."
Katswiri takes a seat, smiling at Eliza. "We have not had a chance to meet before, but I have heard of you by reputation, and I am sure you have heard of me. I am Katswiri, the Blue Diamond Sage. My specialities lie in divination, knowledge and protective magics. It is always a pleasure to meet another diviner."
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Marc keeps any opinion on Hestram's claims behind his lips once they're inside the lodge. But really, it's just a sword. Unless it's used to coronate (personate?) the Ten, it doesn't seem like something indicating a promotion.
Thinking back to his previous missions... has he really never met Osprey or Ms. Petulengro? Granted, he'd spent quite a lot of time on other planes or long-term assignments, but still.
"Greetings, Venture-Captains. I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting either of you, and am glad to finally remedy that. The Society sent me on several long-term missions away from contact, or to smaller lodges with less well-known Venture-Captains." He grins. "Or to Taldor, and I don't expect you it's easy to move between here and there."
"One of those long-term missions saw me gathering notes and plans for animated topiaries, to use as guardians. If I may ask... are those being used here? Your plants seem to be in very good shape."
"One of those long-term missions saw me gathering notes and plans for animated topiaries, to use as guardians. If I may ask... are those being used here? Your plants seem to be in very good shape."
"I'm afraid I am not allowed to divulge such details, Mister Langley, but you may take a look at the topiaries for yourself..."
The courtyard does contain meticulously manicured topiary bushes that closely resemble various creatures. A manticore, a wyvern, a sphinx, and some others.
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“You have my most sincere thanks for safely delivering the Pale Maiden to me,” Eliza says with a proud smile. “One of my servants will bring it to the lodge’s armory, where it will be kept safe to honor the responsibility granted to me by the Decemvirate.”
As she speaks, several human servants wearing elaborate dresses and fashionable suits bustle in and out of the kitchen through the north doors, delivering delicate flutes of bubbling wine, plates of fresh fruits, and platters of manicured finger-foods.
Each of the servants wears a featureless white porcelain mask, obscuring his or her face completely. Each servant also wears a thin red ribbon around the neck. Eliza catches one of you looking at the ribbon, and her face takes on a serious cast. “The ribbons represent the guillotine. The Final Blades that sing the song of Revolution and cut the heads from patriots. Each of my servants has lost a beloved one to the Mob. They wear the masks for their own protection. They are safe here in the Lodge. I know their identities, but it is critical that the rabble and the Mob do not identify them as servants of the Society. We are still not fully trusted here, after all, and although the people will not strike out against me, they may very well snatch one of my servants on their return home from a day’s work. I’m sure you understand.
My homeland of Galt has lost much in this endless Revolution, and even the streets are dangerous. You are lucky to have arrived here safely, but I am sure you could have handled yourselves had you run into trouble."
“Of course,” Eliza says, “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that delivering the Pale Maiden was merely a pretext to get you to the Woodsedge Lodge. You are here for something far more important than a courier mission. For tonight, the Lodge will be host to a Talespinning, one of the most important ceremonies known to the Pathfinder Society. And the guest of honor is Adril Hestram!
Osprey will reveal the details when we reconvene in the evening.”
Osprey that suggests they share some kind of secret regarding the ceremony.
"We have three bedrooms that you may use, on the second floor. The servants will show you the way."
You have about six hours to look around the lodge, or have a bath, or rest, or scribe spells, or whatever else you wish to do.
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"I can understand the need for anonymity with all of the troubles in Galt." She stands up and stretches. "I'm looking forward to the Talespinning, but also to looking through the lodge. I'm very curious what you've done with the place. A hot bath would also be most welcome after our journey, but would you be willing to give me a tour of the grounds while we wait for the bath to fill?"
She glances over to her companions. "I hope noone minds if the men share and I have a private room?"
Katswiri asks the servants to bring her luggage up to one of the rooms and fill a bath. She will want to examine the grounds regardless, but would prefer to do it in the company of Eliza if she's willing.
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Trokkus shrugs and stretches his back with an audible crack. "Oof. Yeah, no problem 'bout the room, Kats."
Lugging his backpack over one shoulder, the half-orc follows the nearest servant out into the corridor.
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"How morbid... A talespinning, fascinating."
Sorithar glances at Katswiri and nods.
"Aye, a tour of the grounds would be welcome. Always nice to explore a new lodge. Do you have a library per chance..?"
When Katswiri brings up the room, Sorithar shrugs, then looks to Marc.
"Of course lady. Share a room Marc?"
Sorithar spends the next few hours exploring the lodge and it's grounds before retiring to the library to peruse its books or, barring the presence of a library, heading to his shared room to study his spellbook.
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"Thank you, ma'am" Marc tells their gracious host. He follows the servant as directed.
"If you insist" Marc hesitantly replies to Katswiri, "but I would be concerned for your security. In some ways, you would be the easiest to sneak up on of us. This may be a Lodge, and the Venture-Captain has an understanding with the locals, but this is still Galt. The mob has gone after former allies before once the leadership changed."
"Plus, I've been at the Grand Lodge twice when it was attacked. If Absalom is vulnerable, so is the Woodsedge Lodge." Plus, though it's not something most talk about... things have a tendency to happen when Pathfinders are in town. Some of it was because they went out and poked the nearest man-eating abyssal tree, sure, but not all. He was just in Ilsurian for a brief vacation that one time, and look what happened there!
He turns to Sorithar. "Did you prepare... I believe the spell is "message"? The one that allows us to talk while seperated."
After freshening up, Marc would like to explore the lodge... especially that ratty-looking stuffed owlbear. A 5" square section is a bit much, but I'm sure they wouldn't miss it if one or two patches became just a little more threadbare.
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"Why thank you for being concerned for me, Marc. You're right that being careful is a critical life skill for any experienced Pathfinder. I have also experienced being attacked in the Grand Lodge, as well as being attacked while staying overnight in an inn during a mission."
"It would of course be safest to always keep everyone together, but I'm only willing to compromise so far when there's no imminent danger." Katswiri's smile widens, her eyes taking on a hardened, predatory gleam. "And I am not entirely without countermeasures of my own to deal with nighttime ambushes. Those who attacked my team at that inn regretted their decisions, briefly."
"Sadly though, I cannot benefit from Message. I would need Telepathic Bond for a similar effect, which is a much more difficult spell that needs substantially more power. Keeping the rest of you linked with it seems like a reasonable precaution, of course."
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Rallas crosses his arms and ponders a moment or two.
I see Marc's point...but I think those were isolated occurrences. And even thought things are...uneasy here, to put it lightly, anyone deciding to make a move while some of the more powerful Pathfinders are present would be a very bad decision...for surely the full weight of the Society would come down on them like a force of nature. I think Kat is safe here...
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Marc turns back towards Katswiri. "You know your own capabilities better than I do. I simply felt I had to mention it." He nods to Sorithar, saying "I suppose we will be sharing that room after all."
"As for the spell, that one was for the rest of us. I know I would like to take the opportunity to explore the Lodge before the Talespinning. Does... anyone know what that actually is?" For such an "important" ceremony, he certainly hadn't heard too much about it.
Marc pulls out a battered Pathfinder Chronicle and flips through it briefly, checking for any reference to the Talespinning.