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A cool breeze wafts off the water as you debark from the ship that carried you across Lake Prophyria. Though night is falling the harbor is still abuzz with activity. Longshoremen rudely push past you on their way to unload the ship that had carried you. After a moment of standing on the pier waiting for your contact, a man comes to you dressed in a formal jacket. He bows to each and hands you a ticket. "Sirs and Madam. Your tickets to the Opera. When you are ready, I will lead you." He steps back to wait with an air of dignified boredom. As you place the ticket in your pocket, you find...
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It isn’t every day that one receives an invitation to the Karcau Opera House, with the ticket prices being what they are—not to mention the cost of seats in a private box.
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"Mmm." The man dubiously peers down his nose at the white griffon-like creature that, quite oddly, can speak. "I was told to expect only five of you, but I have been given one extra ticket just in case. I suppose I may impart it to you, there being no specific rules against speaking griffons. Perhaps your friend here can hold it for you." The man breaks into a smile as he hands the ticket to Tambric. Surely, visions of ruffled feathers as a griffon enters the Opera House are dancing in his head.
"In answer to your question, I have heard that the leading lady will be none other than our own Sasandra Livgrace," he speaks with a note of pride in his voice, but continues on in a rather less positive tone, "and the leading man, one Thesing Umbero Ulvauno, a visiting performer from Cheliax." He leans in confidentially before continuing, "I hear he is running from some... disgrace in Westcrown."
Realizing his total breach of protocol, he replaces his impassive mask and steps back, resuming his persona as the disinterested usher.
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Shalla bends her taloned fore-legs in what might pass for a bow or curtsy. "Thank you, it is very generous of you to make accommodations at short notice. she speaks, with the hint of a smile in her voice, Though I am not exactly a griffon," she turns her head to look across her back, "I have yet to earn my wings."
Looking back at the halfing, she questions him with a less jovial tone, "Is this Thesing Umbero Ulvauno familiar to you?"
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Marianna sighed as one of the longshoremen brushed past her roughly, but didn't expect any less, considering some of the conversations she had overheard from the men in the ferry.
"Thank you, she said, accepting the ticket graciously, standing to one side as the halfling and griffon conversed with the hired help. While they did so, she attempted to surreptitiously read what had been passed to her.
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Thovar takes the ticket from the usher, and looks at it before placing it in his pocket. He peers at the two(or three) that he does not know standing with them on the pier, studying them for a moment before saying, "It seems we have not yet met. Greetings, I am Thovar, humble keeper of coin and key in service of Abadar."
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Walking up briskly, "I must apologize for my tardiness. A few ruffians unloading a cargo vessel required a much needed lesson in manners." Graciously taking his ticket from the usher he raises an eyebrow, "Ah, an evening of culture will be most welcome. Lead on my good man." Turning to the others, "I am pleased to make your acquaintances. I am Levistus." Levistus offers to escort Marianna into the opera, as any gentleman should, by offering his arm.
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Your usher smiles a tight lipped smile at Levistus' direction. "Of course, sir. This way."
Though you have been invited to a private box at the most exclusive Opera House in Ustalav, your status in the Society has apparently not yet earned you the coach-and-four. The path on foot leads you deep into the city, leaving behind the dock districts, passing through a middle-class mercantile area, and into the opulent center of the city where the Opera House resides. The opera ticket-master seems reluctant to take your tickets and admit you due to your near-tardiness, but one look at the eager griffon-like creature's viciously curved beak persuades him.
The opulent lobby is empty as you pass through, and a look of disappointment briefly makes its appearance in the usher's face before cool professionalism puts it away. He leads you up the grand marble staircase to a door towards the back of the Opera House. He bows before opening the door, "It has been a pleasure. Do enjoy the show."
The opera house has earned its reputation. The lighting is dim, provided by five gigantic candelabras near the Opera House's ceiling. Flickering candlelight glints off of gilt carvings that cover the walls, and illuminate the plush gilt-and-velvet chairs that fill the private box.
Already seated within the private booth, a lean Ustalavic noblewoman waits, watching the pre-show with detached enthusiasm. She turns slowly, the crimson of her elegant gown contrasting starkly with her dark hair, pale skin, and sharp features. She motions to nearby seats without a second glance at Shalla and dismisses the attending usher.
“Thank you for coming. I am Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff, currently without a home lodge. I believe we have some time before the Opera begins... The Decemvirate requested that I speak with you here, in private, to discuss a problem that needs sorted out. I trust you’ve heard of Skeldon Miregrold?”
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Marianna takes the proffered arm with an elegant smile. As they walk through the city, she has to admit to herself that it was more elegant than she had expected from her summons.
"Surprising to find such elegance so far afield, is it not, Lord Levistus?" Marianna remarks as they meander through the center of the city. As she catches sight of the opera house, she is visibly taken aback although the crack only lasts a fleeting moment before she regains her composure. A brief hint of a smile plays across her face as the ticket-master is put in his place.
"It would appear that your companion might prove useful with the more superstitious members of society, Master Tambric," she says, although she doesn't address Shalla.
As she catches sight of Venture-Captain Kalistoff, Marianna becomes more demure, not wishing to offend a woman who is both her senior in rank and no doubt, social status.
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Responding to Marianna, "Not at all, not at all. I have found that many of the peoples across the lands have exquisite tastes. It's just that some of them allow the more.....unsavory elements of their societies to mask it enough that it is hard to find. You yourself are obviously a highly refined and beautiful example of your own culture." He continues on discussing the fine food and wines he has heard this area is known for.
Guiding Marianna to the best seat, Levistus bows to the Venture-Captain, "I am Levistus. I am afraid my knowledge of opera is somewhat limited. Is Skeldon a performer of the high arts? I have to say that I am somewhat eager to witness Thesing Umbero Ulvauno's performance."
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"Oh, Shalla's always useful," The halfling grins at Marianna's comment, "she has a real way with people. Ain't that right?"
The white feathered eidolon turns her beak down in slight embarrassment, the rose petaled symbol on her forehead giving a shimmering display of her emotions, "I have no intention of frightening people..." she protests mildly, "it isn't my fault if people jump to conclusions."
Taking a seat near the door where Shalla has room to stand comfortably, Tambric leans forwards eagerly to peer over the railing of the box. "Skeldon Miregrold?" he ponders at the venture-captain's words, before making a wild guess, "the current venture-captain of the local lodge?"
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Basia laughs a tinkling little laugh at Levistus' guess, and an unladylike snort at the mention of Thesing, but nods a head to Tambric's guess with a wry look, “Miregrold is a disreputable and duplicitous rogue of my own, noble, Ustalavic blood — my second cousin, in fact, though I’m loathe to admit it. He’s also quite renowned in our little Society, though again, few would boast of associating with him. When his father passed, Skeldon invested most of his sizable inheritance in illicit trade operations with the dark denizens that dwell below this city. Though he is valuable as a font of knowledge about the subterranean passages below—and the Darklands in general — he’d sell out his dying mother if he thought he could profit from it.
"Despite my personal warnings, the Decemvirate granted him permission to open a lodge in Karcau, though this grant came with several stipulations. As I’d suspected, none of these conditions have been met. The Society requested Skeldon send them his research notes along with some samples of a rare mineral he’s being experimenting with called aureolyte. Neither the notes nor the samples ever arrived. Furthermore, it’s been a month since Skeldon contacted the Decemvirate, who are increasingly concerned about the additional finances they granted him to conduct his research. Other sources have led us to believe he has squandered this money for his own purposes and owes significant sums to one of Karcau’s most influential crime families.
“That’s what we need you for. Make your way to the Karcau Lodge and present Skeldon with these transfer orders.” She slides a stack of sealed envelopes across to you. “Once inside, try to collect whatever information you can about Skeldon, his side deals, and the kind of trouble he’s in. It would be even better if you could procure copies of his research and a sample of aureolyte. The Manor sits on a sizable hillside property just south of town. Any questions?”
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"As much as it pains me to say it, Miregrold is a venture captain, and as pathfinders, you should give him the same respect you would give to anyone in that rank. If he should become violent, I would expect you to subdue him, if possible, or report back if you cannot handle him." A note of scorn drips from her voice at this last.
"Skeldon is bad for the Society, sending pathfinders on obvious suicide missions and wasting Society resources. He’s very bright and extremely suspicious (which accounts for much of his success to this point), so you should be careful in his presence, violence or no - and as much as I detest the fool, try not to kill him."
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"Indeed," Basia waves a hand dismissively, "It is a lodge, so there is always the possibility that someone is staying there, despite Miregold's reputation. I do not know the particulars, it not being my lodge... perhaps you may find someone inside who will know more." She ponders for a moment, "But I can tell you that most of the Society’s local operations take place beneath Miregold's manor house in a series of underground chambers, which also provide access to the Darklands beneath the city. The git founded the lodge about a decade ago in his own ancestral family home." She rolls her eyes upwards and sighs. "How subtle."
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"It could also be that Skeldon has encountered some trouble and is not trying to cheat the Society for what they paid for - unless he has a reputation for not honoring his business agreements. I’ll be sure to chat with him and find out what’s what.” Olo adjusts his great ax on his back and looks at the group. “I’m ready to be off…unless anyone has any more questions.”
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"It could also be that Skeldon has encountered some trouble and is not trying to cheat the Society for what they paid for - unless he has a reputation for not honoring his business agreements. I’ll be sure to chat with him and find out what’s what.” Olo adjusts his great ax on his back and looks at the group. “I’m ready to be off…unless anyone has any more questions.”
Having listened to the task before them Levistus simply nods, "It shall be done to your satisfaction Venture-Captain." He then takes a seat between Basia and Marianna while addressing Olomorn, "All in good time my friend, all in good time. Seeing as there is no immediate rush it would be rude to refuse the hospitality the Venture-Captain has shown us and miss the performance." He begins to discuss the finer points of the theaters decor with the ladies.
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"All in good time my friend, all in good time."
"Quite so." Basia looks to Olomorn and smiles, "I think I know what has got you in such a rush... I think you won't be disappointed." As she looks back to the stage, the audience quiets as the pre-show ends. After a moment's pause the great red curtains pull back and the Opera begins.
Act 1
On his homeward journey, the sea-captain Daland is compelled by stormy weather to seek a port of refuge. He leaves the helmsman on watch and he and the sailors retire. (Song of the helmsman: "With tempest and storm on distant seas.") The helmsman falls asleep. A ghostly vessel appearing astern is dashed against Daland's vessel by the sea and the grappling irons hold the two ships together. Invisible hands furl the sails. A man of pale aspect, dressed in black, his face framed by a thick black beard, steps ashore. He laments his fate. (Aria: "The time has come and seven years have again elapsed") Having broken his troth, the ghost captain is cursed to roam the sea forever without rest. An angel brought to him the terms of his redemption: at the end of every seven years the angry waves cast him upon the shore; if he can find a wife who will be true to him he will be released.
Daland meets the captain. The ghost offers him treasure, and when he hears that Daland has an unmarried daughter named Senta, he asks for her as his wife. Tempted by gold, Daland consents, and favoured by the south wind joyfully acclaimed by Daland's men (repetition of the song of the helmsman and chorus), both vessels set sail.
Act 2
A group of local girls are singing and spinning in Daland's house. (Spinning chorus: "Summ und brumm, du gutes Rädchen", translation "Whir and whirl, good wheel") Senta, Daland's daughter, dreamily gazes upon a gorgeous picture of the Flying Linnorman that hangs from the wall; she desires to save him. Against the will of her nurse, she sings to her friends the story of the Linnorman (Ballad with the Leitmotiv), how Satan heard him swear and took him at his word, she declares she will save him by her fidelity.
The huntsman Erik, Senta's former boyfriend, arrives and hears her; the girls depart, and the huntsman, who loves the maiden, warns her, telling her of his dream, in which Daland returned with a mysterious stranger, who carried her off to sea. She listens with delight, and Erik leaves her in despair.
Daland arrives with the stranger; he and Senta stand gazing at each other in silence. Daland is scarcely noticed by his daughter, even when he presents his guest as her betrothed. In the following duet, which closes the act, Senta swears to be true till death.
Act 3
Later in the evening, the local girls bring Daland's men food and drink. They invite the crew of the strange vessel to join in the merry-making, but in vain. The girls retire in wonder; ghostly forms appear at work upon the vessel of the Flying Linnorman, and Daland's men retreat in fear.
Senta arrives, followed by Erik, who reproves her for her desertion, as she had formerly loved him and vowed constancy. When the stranger, who has been listening, hears these words, he is overwhelmed with despair, as he thinks he is now forever lost. He summons his men, tells Senta of the curse, and to the consternation of Daland and his crew declares that he is the "Flying Linnorman."
Hardly has the Linnorman left the shore, when Senta arrives and throws herself into the sea, claiming that she will be faithful to him unto death. This is his salvation. The spectral ship disappears, and Senta and the Linnorman are seen ascending to the mountain of heaven.
As the show ends, Basia leans back to comment, "Ah, delightful. I thought perhaps Ulvauno was a bit lackluster but Livgrace's portayal of Senta was... most delightful." She muses over this for a moment with a smile on her face, but it quickly fades as she shifts her mind back to the work soon at hand.
Before you leave, Venture-Captain Kalistoff leans forward to give you rough directions to the manor house, and in a hushed voice says: “A personal note on your mission: I was the initial candidate for venture-captain of the Karcau Lodge. Behind my back, Miregrold went to the Decemvirate and bid me out of the position while his agents traveled throughout this city, slandering my reputation. I would love to restore the damage he’s done to my tarnished family name, but he precluded this through his bribes and blackmail. Thus, I have a strong personal interest in seeing the Decemvirate bring him to his knees. If you succeed in this endeavor, you will earn my eternal gratitude. I hope to soon be in a position to make it worth your while. Godspeed.”
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Basia dips her head at Marianna's reassurance, and then collects her things, before making her way to the exit, "Best of luck." Turning her back to walk away, she says over her shoulder, "Oh, one last thing about the mission. I'll have a man waiting near the manor for the next few days. When you discover the evidence implicating Venture-Captain Miregrold, just retrieve it and report it back to me. It isn’t your place as pathfinders to convict Miregrold, or even let him know we’re investigating him. Leave that to Society leadership." With that, she is gone, lost in the post Opera crowd.
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"Indeed. Simple." Levistus' look gives away that he doesn't believe that for a second, "Im sure that's why we were asked to do this as opposed to any common courier.....because it's so simple." His look becomes more thoughtful, "Regardless, do we plan to go skulking about at this late hour or visit during the day like normal people would?"
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Thovar replies to Levistus in his gruff voice, "I imagine they'll have room for a few Pathfinders. I doubt that Skeldon would outright refuse us lodging for the night, and I should hope he doesn't want to bring much more trouble than he already has considering what we've heard tonight. Shall we be off then?" Thovar seems anxious to deal with Miregold's infraction to the order and trust of the Society, and civilization in general.
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Seeming in agreement, you set off...
The Karcau Lodge is located in the manor of a modest hillside estate just south of the city that overlooks Karcau’s opulent spires and vaulted roofs. A lone cobbled path traverses the property, weaving through copses of dully-colored, gangly trees and overgrown grass. Eventually, the path makes its way toward a small two-story manor house built in the classic Ustalavic style. Its steep roof is shingled with dark slate, and elaborately carved bargeboard highlights its high cross gables. Its lead framed windows rise in slender, cathedral-like arches. A pair of pointed turrets flanks the manor’s thick, iron-shod front doors. The doors to the lodge appear locked and shuttered, and all the drapes have been drawn closed.
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Olo, seeing all the drawn drapes, arches an eyebrow. He pulls his great axe from his back and holds it firmly in his hands. He stands at the foot of the stairs (if there are stairs) or five feet away from the door as Levistus knocks on the door.
"If no one responds in a few minutes, I suggest we look for a back door."