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Elsewhere... A blonde aasimar man takes a moment to study the magic. He draws upon his innate magic, letting a radius of pure, unadulterated daylight emanate off his skin. He weaves a cantrip and says, "I can see the weaves of magic. If I draw on some of the null magic at my disposal, I can probably dispel... this!"
Chambren briefly glances at Nemis when he speaks Thassilonian, but continues. "I personally do not see this as a question of whether or not you need coin, but one of fair evaluation. You acquired this from the Onyx Alliance, but they have not been kind in selling the golem to you. They oversold you, I'm afraid." He glances over to the golem before adding, "I am certain that you care nothing about whether it is stolen or not. But some of your potential buyers might, which will limit your options when you sell. You are fortunate that we are honest and will bargain. Others would think that might makes right. But not us. So I urge you... Be fair."
"Plus, we do have artificers who could replicate this work. So if we must, we will explore that avenue." He looks to Nemis and Daisley for support.
Chambren nods, as if expecting this turn. "Information is a commodity too, but I have no qualms giving you this. We hail from Absalom, a major city on the Material Plane and location of the headquarters for the Pathfinder Society. It's also the city where the Blakros family resides. The golem is a relic that they kept in their museum. Truthfully, the golem is a curiosity to us, one worthy of study. We have no desire to own it per se. But as property of a family allied with our organization, we are here to honour our agreements by supporting them." He pauses, placing a hand on his chin as he thinks. "It was stolen by the Onyx Alliance, so this task is really a question of principle. Given that we've already recovered the other stolen items, we have probably done enough to keep us in good standing with the Blakros family."
"I see. Well, I can tell you that this doesn't seem like a particularly fair trade. After all, owning a soul is an eternal exchange, whereas the golem could easily disappear with a misplaced ball of fire. What I mean is that its permanence is much less a thing,", the arcanist grimaces as he works through the distasteful conversation. "I can tell you that we are far more accustomed to exchanging in favours. The benefit here is that you would see a more immediate gain, and as you've noted we are a capable group. Likely we can help with a task that is either beneath you or distracts you from your more important goals. Perhaps you would be amenable to something like that? As Pathfinders, we are a group with many resources. The souls of our agents is not really one of them though."
Before we begin, I'd like to spend a first level spell slot or two and regain a bit of my arcane reservoir. "That is good to hear, though I must say what we seek goes beyond the category of a 'bauble'. Specifically, we are searching for a construct made of wax. It is unique in that it speaks. Would you know of one?"
Uncomfortable with the melee around him, Chambren draws upon his arcane might to create a dimensional crack. He steps through, reappearing further from trouble. He then draws again from his arcane reservoir, adding precision and might to his next spell. In response, three rays of pure fire lance out at the fetchling in green.
With a gesture, the elemental takes up a defensive position in front of his master.
Chambren steps forward and quickly sizes up the foes. Torn between dividing the golems or making them both suffer, Chambren opts for the bigger impact. He grabs hold of a slender blue rod, and weaves a spell that would normally result in concussive ball of flame. Yet... This time it's a blast of cold!
"Celie is in danger, Nemis. That golem will come for her next. Actually... Morton, protect her please. Be a shield." The familiar complies, moving forward and assuming a defensive position.
"Are you alright?" Chambren asks, genuinely concerned. He moves closer to the door before adding, "Can I help? I can open the door if you want, and use what magic I have to help you..." In Terran, he says to Morton, "Please take a look on the other side, and report back what you see." The elemental familiar complies by moving to the corner and attempting to glide through the wall to scout ahead.
With two dinosaurs ready to threaten the group, and with Daisley and Gorf still preparing themselves for battle, Chambren opts for a delaying tactic. His normally quiet tone is replaced by the powerful tones of his spellcasting. The arcanist waves his hands in a complex pattern before stopping, palms out. A second later a wall of pure ice manifests. A mild emanation of cold comes off the wall, itself 40 feet across, 20 feet high, and 9 inches thick.
"I'm afraid that won't hold them forever. But I expect it will give you all plenty of time to prepare yourselves. I will hasten your movements next." He then studies the constructs, sharing what he knows.
"Yes, please. Daisley has the right of it. Lost items are important, but lost Pathfinders moreso. Let's not jump to any conclusions about anything before discussing the now most important manner of Kaliba Damazi." He looks to Sarnia and adds, "We know that you run the Onyx Alliance different from previous leaders. Making peace with Light Weavers’ Guild is as wise as fighting on two fronts is not. I am curious to know why reconciliation with your family is not an option."
Chambren is also struck by all the liquid consumed. "In any other situation, I would think that you had just returned from a vacation to the Plane of Fire," the Aasimar man chuckles. "Nevertheless, I see you have girded yourself battle. I take your meaning, and will prepare accordingly." He then weaves a simple conjuration spell, bringing into existence a piece of arcane armor that protects his torso. He repeats the incantation for Morton. The magic armor forces the earth elemental to adopt a shape that will hold it.
It's hard to tell based on it's lack of expression, but you think the familiar appreciates the mage's magic armor.
"Well... It's worth noting that the Onyx Alliance has changed in the last four years. Major changes in policy, and that speaks to a coup. There are even rumors that they are making peace talks with a former enemy, the Light Weavers’ Guild." For the first time in their presence, the earth elemental familiar speaks. Though his voice is low and gravelly, it is clear. "My elemental brothers keep me informed. They have truly stepped up recruitment, and have been making a point of equipping their agents well. And most this gear is safety stored in the nigh impenetrable Onyx Repository. But some is rumored to be in Wightir House, itself a former experimentation lab. There's a chance that various relics of theirs are stored in this place." The familiar pauses as the group looks at it. "This is what I've been told."
"I, personally, have had fewer interactions with Nigel and your museum than my colleagues have. This is my first time visiting. But I must admit that there are a surprising number of half-researched items here. It would concern me a great deal were this my museum, as having a careful eye for detail is a prime requisite." "I am loathe to say that there are ulterior motives, at least as far as Nigel is concerned. I simply do not have the measure of the man, and for now do not see the reason. Perhaps he would be willing submit to magical questioning? I know of magics that allow you to determine the veracity of a person's statements. But as the good grippli suggests, it is likely that we are seeing confirmation bias from Nigel, and the trouble stems from the Onyx Alliance."
Chambren bows low to Hamaria. "Greetings, Lady Blakros. I am Chambren, replacing the good Baron in this investigation. Unfortunately he was called away do to family emergency." "As to our findings, I admit that we have not completed all our work yet. However I can tell you that the conclusions drawn by Mr Aldain are... perhaps not as thorough as is normal for the good curator? For example, there is a catalog of a missing Mendevian sword, though sketches of said sword depict obvious Taldan craftsmanship," he holds out the sketch, but quickly continues. "More pressing though is that there appears to be a wax golem that is unaccounted for. Staff continue to find flakes, and the amount of waste suggests that one survived the 'fireball'. We suspect that it may be in the same room as the Shadow Obelisk. Given that the room is off limits, I humbly request your permission to enter that area so that we might continue our work."
"Yes, sentience is not unheard of with wax golems. There is a book called Constructs: How to Build One and Other Considerations which I read at the Grand Lodge. I recall a footnote that mentioned this rare occurrence. Fascinating stuff." To Nemis he says, "It's likely that the golem left the museum if it is sentient. But yes, investigating where it might have frequented in the museum might give us a clue."
"Calling it a 'honeyed tongue' demeans the virtue of conversion. It is about connecting with someone over a common parlance. Nonetheless, I will make my own inquiries about the golems. I know much about magical constructs, so perhaps I can allay their fears." He then makes his way over to some other museum staff, hoping to learn something where Daisley could not.
Chambren looks over the goo...
The arcanist pauses before adding, "It seems that Nigel has come to the wrong conclusion in his research, yes? There are enough pieces of evidence to suggest tampering or foul play. Perhaps to make us look bad? I would ask who benefits, but I think the answer to that is 'many'"
The arcanist bows. "Hello, my fellow Pathfinders. I am Chambren. And beside me is my familiar, Morton." He glances at the burly, departing barbarian. "My skills differ from the good Baron, but I expect my learned mind can be of some use to the team." He steps forward to look over the sketches.
A striking man with long blonde hair steps into the area of the museum where the Shining Crusade exhibit is. He approaches the Pathfinders, and subtle glow gives away the aasimar heritage. He wears ornate robes that hint at more scholarly pursuits. A rocky formation follows him, rolling obediently along behind the man. The creature's earthy, elemental nature is obvious as bits of soil, stone, and small emeralds protrude from it. He looks over the assembled Pathfinders and points at Baron Gavin de Roche. "Forgive me, good Baron. The Venture-Captain has asked me to deliver this note. He's asked me to... well, it's in the note." |
