Location Temple of Abadar, Magnimar
You arrive individually after dark at the side entrance to the Temple of Abadar – Master of the First Vault, God of Cities, Wealth & Law – as requested.
The Magnimar Temple of Abadar is an elegant stone affair with flowing arches, wide halls, and massive steel doors that speak to the security of the inner reaches of the temple.
Earlier in the day you had received word through a local fixer of your acquaintance that the Prelate of Abadar wanted to speak with you about a mission, and that you would be paid for your time regardless of acceptance. But discretion and time are of utmost importance.
You are quickly ushered in the side entrance and seated in a spartan meeting room. Others, apparently fellow adventurers and mercenaries, also arrive.
Once six of you are gatherered, the door opens again, the Abadarian Prelate enters. She wears a finely wrought silver circlet and a rich gold ribbon ties back her hair. Despite her beauty, her face is frim as she seats herself at the head of the room’s plain wooden table.
“You have been chosen,” she begins, “for a matter of utmost importance. All of you possess abilities that could come in handy in the task set for you, but before I go farther, I must reiterate again that this matter must be held in the strictest confidence.”
“This matter requires the particular talents of… adventurers… such as yourselves, to infiltrate an enchanter’s stronghold and retrieve an artifact. You will be well paid for the risks inherent in this mission, and the Church will pay for any healing magic required once you have retrieved the artifact in question.”
“Some of you have somewhat, shall we say, checkered pasts. The favor of the Abadarian Church could go a long way to making such past indiscretions be forgotten where we have influence, such as here in Magnimar.”
“Before I continue, do any of you have qualms about such a mission? Discretion is important in this matter, and we would not look kindly on the words of this meeting being repeated by any who wish to not participate in the mission.”
She pauses for a moment and looks at your faces, then continues.
“Just over a month ago, an item was stolen from one of our vaults. The break-in was an audacious one, and a vulgar display of magical power – the vault’s guardians themselves, all priests of no mean strength, were overcome by enchantments that convinced them to open the vault, allowing the thief to simply walk in and take what she desired. By itself, that would be enough to concern us. But there is more.”
“The item stolen was a powerful relic from the ancient past know as the Sword of Lust, one a of a set of corrupt weapons known collectively as the Seven Swords of Sin. While by itself it might not pose an overwhelming threat, after the break-in whispers began to reach us of similar occurrences in private collections, government armories and so forth. People are naturally reluctant to talk about what has been taken, but it’s our belief that the thief is foolish enough to try assembling all seven swords. Through our investigations and communion with our Lord, we’ve managed to trace the twisting paths back to a single woman, a powerful enchantress named Tirana. She dwells somewhere in Kaer Maga, a corrupt den of thieves and apostates located high on the Storval Ridge.”
“We aren’t certain what she plans, but it’s easy enough to see that it bodes ill for Varisia. If she were to succeed in actually taking control of all the swords, the power she would wield would be immense. Cities could burn. Rivers could boil. Churches,” she finishes with a grim smile, “could crumble.”
“That’s where you come in.”
“If we send clerics and templars of the Church to Kaer Maga, Tirana will surely hear of this and go into hiding. Likewise if we asked the Magnimar government or the Church of Iomedae for aid.”
“But adventurers and mercenaries such as yourselves? You’d be just one group out of dozens of similar adventurers that travel to Kaer Maga each year, hoping to plumb its depths and discover new treasures.”
“Unlike these groups however, you’ll have a specific target and goal in mind. We can provide a description and picture of Tirana herself gleamed from our communion with our Lord, and that combined with your skills should be enough for you to locate her base of operations, infiltrate, and seize the Swords.”
“We can offer the favor of the Abadarian Church and one thousand gold pieces up front, with another two thousand when you return with the Swords.”
“Also, while we can’t send the priests and templars of Abadar with you, as Tirana will be looking for them, we have secured aid from the Church of Sarenrae.”
“Melanie Starsmite here,” She gestures at the priestess calmly seated at the table, seemingly out of place amongst the hard-edged mercenaries, “is an adventuring priestess of Saranrae who has agreed to venture with you into Tirana’s lair. Her magic should help keep you safe and whole.”
“Will you accept this mission in the name of Abadar?”
"Kaer Maga? Kaer Maga was the place of my birth, and a right hive of scum and villainy. A city of cutthroats, murderers, and worse. What better job than to track down an evil artifact in such a place as that? I'm in."
Shariv appears confident, even cocky. A rather nondescript-looking man of Varisian descent, his dark eyes remain fixed on the speaker. His gloved hands rest on the shafts of his rather unique weapons, a pair of foot-long, double-ended iron spikes strapped into holsters on his thighs. Shariv throws a quick glance at Rauno, his partner in crime since his arrival in Mangimar nearly a year ago.
"Sounds like a right nasty job, eh?"
"I don't know about in the name of Abadar, but I'll definently accept this mission in the name of Gold!"
Berekiah also think to himself "I have been bit a bit bored with Magnimar recently, I could do with a change."
"Adaro's at your service m'lady, I did have a few questions regarding the swords, if by some chance this Tirana posses all the swords, can we assume you want them all retrieved together or can we attempt to return them to there former masters for some measure of compensation to us all and the church of course?"
"And I would also like to arrange some sort of breach of contract clause in a bounty being placed on our heads for any foolishness that may arise from any of these fellow compatriots as one might be succumb too the call of power in the face of real artifacts of power. In case one forgets the job, although I am sure we are all professionals. We all stand together or all fall as one."
"For the warmth of the sun, I offer my protections and healing. In the light that destroys the walking dead I bathe. For the sake of the Goddess I breathe. I am Melani," murmurs the young woman.
"Adaro's at your service m'lady, I did have a few questions regarding the swords, if by some chance this Tirana posses all the swords, can we assume you want them all retrieved together or can we attempt to return them to there former masters for some measure of compensation to us all and the church of course?"
"Yes, we believe Tirana has all the Swords. But to wield their full might, she will have to awaken the dormant power within them. The Swords of Sin are millenia old, and while quite powerful, they are not easily mastered by magicians trained in the current age."
"We held our Sword in custody, in hopes that a day like this would never come. And now it is the Church's responsibility to retrieve it, through you."
Each of the wizard-kings styled himelf (or herself) after one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Disputes between these rulers, dubbed Runelords for the powerful sigils used in their spellcasting, were common. Rather than wage arcane war on each other, potentially laying waste to their empire, conflicts were settled via champions wielding magic blades, each tied to one of the seven sins.
When a mysterious cataclysm brought Thassilon to ruins, the seven Runelords and their swords dissappeared from the stage of recorded history.
Millenia later, the swords have been recovered from across Varisia by various collectors, goverments and churches, but to date, their ancient power is still dormant, unless unlocked by complex rituals and sigils known in Thassilonian days.
“As long as the gold’s good I’m in.” I say, propping my feet on the table besides my elegant bow.
“This sorceress we’re after, you want her neutralized or do you just want your sword back? Do we get any back-up if things go sour? You have any problems with us causing a little mayhem at this lady’s fortress? A little looting of the enemy never hurts.” I say with a slight drawl, lazily directing my questions to the priestess in charge.
“You have maps of this place?”
I turn to everyone “Name’s Xer. I stand up and walk over to Melani and say “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Xer Androssi at your service.”, bowing low.
I return to my seat and wait expectantly for my questions to be answered.
"Adaro Omirra at your service all, my word be bonded too you all, I will serve to the best of my ability and quickly dispatch any foe with the fire's of eternity."
"I will do my best to keep you from harm so that you and the light of your god will keep us blessed and safe."
Rauno, having taken a seat in a corner of the room affording him a ready view of everyone and the door, sits quietly through these discussions. A stout-looking bow rests next to him, strung as if for immediate use, while a starknife dangles from a loop in his belt. He nervously flips a razor open and shut as the others talk. At Shariv's comment directed toward him, the quiet Varisian simply nods. Let him do all the talking, he's better at it anyways...
His grim gaze following along the conversation to each speaker, Rauno is obviously intently listening despite his lack of participation. An enchantress...we'll need protection against her charms. As Xer speaks, Rauno's face shows a bit more interest, though in the man's bow more than his words. Another archer, eh? Draw looks a bit weak on that bow. We'll see how quick he is...
As Adaro finishes speaking, Rauno realizes he's the only one that hasn't replied, and so with some obvious reluctance finally speaks, "Name's Rauno. I'm your man for traps'n such. Not too bad a shot, either. Abadar's gold is good enough for me, and I'm good with working in a team so long as no one puts my pay in question.
“This sorceress we’re after, you want her neutralized or do you just want your sword back? Do we get any back-up if things go sour? You have any problems with us causing a little mayhem at this lady’s fortress? A little looting of the enemy never hurts.” I say with a slight drawl, lazily directing my questions to the priestess in charge.
"The first priority is retrieving the Swords, all of that she gathered of the Seven so far. That will go a long way towards neutralizing Tirana's threat, but if you get a chance to eliminate her... there will be a bonus involved."
"And in regards to looting and mayhem, its your decision how you want to infiltrate her lair, and if chaos would aid or hinder your plans. But the only thing the Church cares about in her lair are the Seven Swords of Sin, you can pillage or burn whatever you like of the rest."
“You have maps of this place?”...
"We can provide a map of Kaer Maga, but the exact location of Tirana's lair is shielded from our magic. Communion with our Lord tells us that the Swords, and presumably her lair, are below Kaer Maga, somewhere in the catacombs and ruins."
The Prelate gestures, and a pair of acolytes enter and place 6 clinking bags down on the table.
"Here is your intitial payment, in mixed gold and platinum. More awaits you when you are successful."
"The Church has procured a faithful wizard to teleport you to just outside the northern boundaries of Kaer Maga. You can blend in with the other travellers from the Cinderlands and the Storval Plateau."
"Tirana undoubtably has an eye out for any travellers from Magnimar and Korvosa after her thefts, so this should help you enter unnoticed. When you are successful, you can leave Kaer Maga and take a boat down the Yondabakari River back to Magnimar."
"Tirana has protected her lair from scrying magic, as I mentioned earlier. But given your skills and the description of her, you should be able to track her down through mundane means. She is arrogant and a powerful enchantress, so it is doubtful that she spends all her time protected in her lair."
"I'd like you to leave tonight, as soon as possible."
"On a well founded life friendship and healing walk hand in hand. This gathering is a source of strength and comfort like that of the sun."
Melani picks up her payment.
"This helps too."
"Must be quite the dirty job, you giving scabs like us all that cashy money."
"Must be quite the dirty job, you giving scabs like us all that cashy money."
"Hardly. One of Abadar's aspects is the God of Wealth. As his faithful clergy, if we need a job done, we seek out and hire the best professionals available and pay them accordingly."
"To build a new temple, we hire the best architects and masons. For esoteric knowledge, we seek a sage. For infiltration & assasination to retrieve the Seven Swords and end Tirana's threat, we found you."
"As payment has been made I am at your service, just need to retrieve my gear and I'll be ready"
The Prelate hands over a sheaf of papers.
"While I have no doubt that your skills will see this mission sucessful, information is always useful. As you may not have been to Kaer Maga before, here is an essay from the Pathfinder Journal. It is almost a decade old, but should give you a feel for the city, and why we couldn't send Paladins of Iomedae for this mission."
Pathfinder Journal: An Introduction to Kaer Maga
By Elegost Harper.
Kaer Maga. Over the centuries, it has borne many titles – the Ayslum Stone, the City on the Cliff, and the Hex – but somehow, although the language that spawned it has watched its books crumble and tongues turn to dust, the original name persists. Those who dwell here use the name almost instinctively, without an understanding of its meaning or where it came from. And that perhaps is the city’s entire story.
Little is known about Kaer Maga’s original purpose, but its age and scale leave little doubt the Thassilonian Empire constructed it. Only that empire, with its penchant for monoliths and arches capable of blotting out the sun, could have attempted a project of such audacity: a six-sided ring of seamless stone, stretching more than half mile in diameter and topped with towers and minarets of every shape and design.
From far away, Kaer Maga appears a walled city of white stone, with a sight cluster of towers emerging from the walls where the city abuts a sheer cliff face 3000 feet high.
To the south, the shining walls extend right to the edge of the Storval Ridge, the sheer cliff face below it broken only by waterfalls fed by the many springs that make the city habitable. On the other sides, trade routs unfurl in cardinal directions and dozens of lesser roads exted like roots into the fields where citizens plant and sow in the bare soil along the edge of the plateau.
In the ages since the original inhabitants disappeared, the building has become a haven for squatters from across the world, a city populated by those that don’t fit in elsewhere. In its streets, outcasts both humanoid and otherwise mingle and survive without asking too many questions, and order is upheld through a volatile mix of tolerance and gang violence.
Many label the residents undesirable, and while its streets can be extremely hazardous for those who don’t keep their wits about them, this confluence of cultures and questionable moral fiber makes the city a paradise for merchants. Those looking to buy things they can’t find elsewhere – obscure items, taboo information or sentient chattel – flock to Kaer Maga.
Getting into Kaer Maga is simple. Trade and immigration almost entirely sustain the city, and while the loose militia, consisting of young bravos supplied by numerous factions, might shake down visitors for a small bribe, any group short of an invasion force is generally allowed to enter unmolested, if a few coins lighter.
Navigating the city is another story altogether however. Kaer Maga is shaped like an enormous hexagonal ring, with an open-air center known as the Core. As the only section of the city to receive natural light on a regular basis, the Core is generally treated as neutral ground by the various gangs and factions.
A tangle of narrow streets, apartments, and shops stretches to fill every part of the available space within the Ring. In some larger open spaces, towers built by generations of squatters rise up eight stories to the ceiling or cling to walls like cliff dwellings. In places where the Ring is divided into smaller chambers, its not uncommon to have two entirely different neighborhoods stacked on top of each other on different floors.
From the city’s southern end, massive towers protruding from the structure’s bulk nearly double its height, joined seamlessly with the alabaster stone of the walls and bristling with an array of crenellations and minarets. Underneath it all stretch countless miles of caverns, corridors and catacombs twisting root-like down into the cliff face.
The main entrance to the city is though the Warren, a massive breach in the city’s wall since filled with a towering shantytown of wood and detritus. Typically a ragtag collection of beggars and street children, loudly extolling their services as guides, line the main thoroughfare through the Warrens to the Core. As few people even amongst those born and raised in Kaer Maga know all the alleys and backstreets, any visitors might find it advisable to hire one of these guides.
Editor’s Note: This was to be the first in a series of articles on Kaer Maga, but Elegost was slain in a quarrel with a street gang after refusing to hand over artifacts he had found in the catacombs. Pathfinders should be wary upon entering Kaer Maga, and not display ostentatious wealth, lest they suffer Elegost’s fate, Desna bless his soul.
After everyone has gathered their gear, a studious looking human enters into the room.
"Come along now. Its bad enough I have to stay up late and interupt my research, but the Church calls. The sooner my part is done with this, the better."
On the street outside the Abadarian Temple, the man pulls a scroll out of a scroll case, and begans an incantation.
"May Abadar stengthen your blades." The Prelate blesses you as the incantation concludes.
A brief moment of disorientation, and your surroundings have changed drastically. Rather than the cobblestones of Magnimar, you now stand on a dirt road pitted with wagon ruts. Scrubby farmland stretches to either side, and you can see the alabaster bulk of Kaer Maga before you, perhaps an hours walk in the distance.
Over your shoulder, the sun is just dawning over the Cinderlands to the east.
"Greetings old friend," says Melani on bended knee towards the dawn.
She quickly gets back up and dusts off her robes.
"As the sun leads the day, so we travel across together. Who will make sure all of us reach the end ready to rise again in the morn? Which of you will make us be of one mind?"
Melani looks at each in turn.
"My talents do not run to leader," finishes the woman.
The abruptness of the transit causes Shariv to pitch forward, retching.
"I don't like magic. Doesn't agree with me, as it were."
He then turns to Melani.
"I would be leader, but I think that job's best left to someone... else?"
The Brash dwarf takes a moment to collect himself. "I'm better at following orders than giving them. The question is, who is going to step up and give them?" He glances around the assembled adventurers, before none to subtly letting his gaze rest on Xer.
I sway a little and mutter "Damn. Never did like traveling like that."
After I get my bearings I look through my gear, as if to make sre its all still there. I follow the conversation about a leader with half an ear and fianlly notice that the dwarf is staring pointedly at me.
"What, stubby? Why're lookin' at me? I'm ain't no leader, I kill things from a distance. You, (jerking my head towards Shariv) aren't you a native?"
"I fear that darkness will travel with us if we argue more. Perhaps one of us will step forwards in time to wear the crown and carry the sceptre on this journey."
"Things have a way...."
Melani doesn't even wait for the other two to respond.
"Whatever, Sunshine." I say shouldering my pack and starting to walk towards the city.
"What, stubby? Why're lookin' at me? I'm ain't no leader, I kill things from a distance. You, (jerking my head towards Shariv) aren't you a native?"
"I haven't been here in years. And in Kaer Maga, a year can seem like a century."
Melani moves up alongside Shariv as they walk towards the City.
"I am in the dark on this place, please shed some more light on this Kaer and its troubles."
For instnace, can it be said that Shariv has a good and helpful friend from long ago that will help with our quest?
Melani moves up alongside Shariv as they walk towards the City.
"I am in the dark on this place, please shed some more light on this Kaer and its troubles."
For instnace, can it be said that Shariv has a good and helpful friend from long ago that will help with our quest?
Uncharacteristically grim, Shariv looks meaningfully at the cleric.
"Buildings do not last long. People do not last long. The city does not forgive."
"I believe that one of you rugged looking ones should appear to take the lead, as my exploits are known to circles such as the ones that will be in Kaer" at this time he pulls out a ragged looking cloak and dons it over his sophisticated clothes. "I believe that a make an unlikely candidate as it would draw too much attention having one small as me leading the way."
As you near Kaer Maga, you can see the enormous hexagonal walls, broken only by the massive breach that is the Warren. As the only entrance or exit in the otherwise unbroken alabaster walls, all roads, including the one you are on, lead to the Warren.
Entering the Warren through the breach, you are immediately surrounded by movement and sound as you enter this maze. The poorest citizens of Kaer Maga live in the rubble of the Warrens, and they have filled the breach with a three-dimensional shantytown of rubble and scaffolding, structures that tower 60’ or 80’ in the air as they connect with the ceiling of the Ring.
Corridors and paths through the Warren are narrow and crooked, and bridges, often little more than a few planks, crisscross overhead. There is only one “road” large enough for wagons to pass through the Warrens to the Core, and it is filled with a shocking mixture of races and cultures.
A man in the arcane robes of a Chelish Demonbinder bargains with a Minka talismonger. Nearby a group of colorful Varisians dances to entertain the crowd, while a Magnimar GolemMage with his armored servitors passes a caravan of cowled Wormfolk on their way from Kaer Maga back to their desert home. A Troll seer cries out to the crowds, offering to predict the future by casting auguries with its own innards.
As the party enters this crowd, a lanky human figure in studded leather with greasy hair and a crimson bandana tied around his neck approaches you.
“Newcomers? Kaer Maga is a dangerous place. It’ll cost 50 gold each to enter, unless you want to risk an accident.”
You might, although you have been out of the city for a while. Make a Knowledge:Local check.
"50g!" he looks around him and behind him shifting in his saddle.
"I didn't realize we we're escorting the king. Where is he..." saying very sarcastically.
"We are just adventures, and not too successful as of late, that price is far beyond our means as we are here looking for work cause of this." He mutters under his breath "There are far better places to look for work than here," Saying it just loud enough to be heard.
"Yeah where is this King we are supposed to be escorting?"
Melani prepares to cast at the first hint of trouble. She moves back to the middle of the party.
Can everyone please roll initiative... just in case this degerates into a fight ;-)
*And don't forget your spot check if you haven't made it already.
You might, although you have been out of the city for a while. Make a Knowledge:Local check.
Knowledge:Local *For Shariv
The crimson bandanas match a group known as the Splitstreet Gang, primarily composed of humans, with a few half-orcs and half-elves.
When you were last in Kaer Maga, they were a minor gang that ran protection rackets in the smaller marketplaces of Tarheel Promenade.
At that time, they weren't a major player or faction in Kaer Maga's shifting underworld, but if they are shaking down newcomers in the Warrens (always a lucrative spot) than they must have moved up the underworld hierarchy lately.
"Hey, I... I kinda have to be somewhere, so could you, kind of, not take our money?"
"Oh, and before you go..."
Shariv reaches into the folds of his duster, as if to search for his money-pouch.
Suddenly, his hand moves like lighnting, the throwing spike barely seen as it whirls end-over-end towards the gang leader.
The spike buries itself in the right side of the thug's chest.
"...you forgot something."
Can everyone please roll initiative... just in case this degerates into a fight ;-)
Can everyone please roll initiative... just in case this degerates into a fight ;-)
There are several other options, like bluff, intimidate, paying them off, etc... but starting a fight isn't a bad option either, lol. And it does fit the personalities of most of you.
"Hey, I... I kinda have to be somewhere, so could you, kind of, not take our money?"
The throwing spike buries itself in the punk's chest with a spray of blood, and he staggers backwards while drawing a rapier.
"F+*+ off, greasy. You don't wanna mess with us."
I say, stringing my bow and nocking an arrow, aiming for the leader's face.
"I'd be happy to kill you, but we're on a tight schedule. Move aside and I won't stick an arrow between your eyes."