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The letter from J Dacilane to the Pathfinder Society didn’t specify much:
“Pathfinder team requested for mentorship opportunity at Dacilane Academy tomorrow, 9 bells. Sense of humor suggested.”
With scant else to go on, you all arrive in front of the newly constructed auditorium doors, festooned with a ceremonial ribbon, to find the students milling about in front of the building.
The auditorium has been defaced—the sign for the Dacilane Academy Auditorium has been vandalized, with “Dacilane” changed to “Dandy-lion.” Beneath it, the doors have been painted with a picture of a catfolk wearing a foppish exaggeration of an Eagle Knight uniform. The feline freedom fighter has been hit in the face with a meringue pie by an unseen assailant and is making a comically shocked face.
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Achurius grimaces and says, "I have a very bad feeling about this."
Achurius is a middle aged elf, though, as with most elves, that is not immediately apparent. He is dressed in worn and comfortable clothes and about the only weapon you can see is a staff with the emblem of Nethys on the head of it.
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"Oh, come on! This will be absolutely fab!" A petite, burgundy-haired, young woman skips along. She might barely be a few years removed from school-age herself. A pastel scarf is tied around her neck in a fashionable manner.
She approaches the painting of the Eagle Knight and giggles. "I mean, that's pretty good, right?"
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"Ooo, the drinking kind, eh? You're my kind of man! Heehee!" A plump, petite elderly woman exclaims. With rosy cheeks and curly white hair, she's absolutely adorable, except for the monstrosity of what can barely be called a dress. It's a blood-red knit sweater material that seems to be about four times too big for her, and is tied into bundles and bunches of fabric to keep it from falling off or tripping her. She reaches into the folds of her sweater dress and pulls out some hard caramel candies, each with a varying amount of red fuzz stuck to them. "Anyone want a candy? How about you, dear? You sound like you know how to have some good *fun*--not like those fuddy duddies over there. Heehee!" She extends her offering to Gwendolyn, indicating Achurius and Nicodemus with a jerk of her head and a roll of her twinkling eyes.
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Gwen skips over to Mrs. Crinkle and beams. "Why thank you!" She palms it and then leans over to give the elderly woman a peck on the cheek. "Careful, there's more where that came from," she says, giving a wink. You notice that her eyes are mismatched; one is a soft brown and the other a vibrant green.
Gwen looks down at Mrs. Crinkle's dress. "Oh my. Do you need help with that? I bet I can help you pin it just right to make everyone notice." She flashes the room a grin.
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"Oh, no dearie, but thanks for offering. I've got a little *condition*, you see. When I get all worked up, the dress fills out right quick! You'll see. Now, I can't wait to see how the kids are doing since our last adventure. Heehee!" She begins glancing around, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the young 'uns she escorted on a field trip a while back.
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Another elf in bright clothing looks up at the sign, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "At least it doesn't look like proteans again. I don't know what it is about this place and the teachers here." She has a sheathed dagger hanging from her belt next to a quiver of arrows, the bow that goes with the arrows cased over one shoulder, and a soft felt instrument case over the other shoulder. "Alessandra di Montefeltro, knower of things and player of music, at your service."
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Achurius returns Mrs C's eye roll, prepared for an eye rolling contest he is already sure he would lose.
"No fuzz for me, thanks. I'm sure the kids are up to their usual antics."
Achurius attended FPS class like most everyone, but it has been a looong time since he was a kid and generally tried to avoid prank day. He's quite sure, though, that he saw Mrs. Butters snickering when he arrived. His old teacher PERSISTENTLY treated him like a foolish child just to get his goad. How the heck did she end up at this institute? And from his recollection teachers were not off-limits. Hmmm. Perhaps Mrs. Crinkle might come in handy.
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The agents start to gather and introduce themselves to one another, their efforts interrupted by the clearly excited student body. Those in the know will be occasionally distracted by an excited wave from Vim Moneymaker and Geltra or a subtle head nod from Hari. Tels Olsen, captain of the Academy's ruk team breaks the silence by greeting those of you he has journeyed with before. "Looks to be an exciting day, didn't think you could stomach any more of our shenanigans, but here we are..."
Before he can continue, a human figure bearing a remarkable resemblance to the catfolk graffiti finally steps atop a crate and claps to get the assembled students’ attention.
J Dacilane stands in front of the students with a stern look, though there is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Students, someone has taken it upon themselves to attack the very name of this school, an act so serious that I can only consider it to be a declaration of war: the Dacilane Academy’s very first prank war.”
He holds up a hand to quiet the outburst of excitement from the gathered students. “Classes will be cancelled for the remainder of the day, as conflict is a powerful teacher. You will have until 10 bells to organize yourselves, make your plans, and prepare for battle, and until 12 bells to prank with impunity."
More cheers erupt.
"There will be no teams; you must make your own alliances and be on the lookout for betrayals. These Pathfinders will serve as impartial observers, mentors, and judges. For those of you who need competitive motivation, a winner will be selected by our judges to win the Dandy-Lion Medal of Foolery for the team that embodies the spirit of the competition the best, but the satisfaction of besting your opponents will be your truest reward. Keep your wits about you. War is chaos; enemies can unite against a greater foe; neutral parties might get involved — take nothing for granted. And remember — whatever mess you make, you will be responsible for cleaning up tomorrow morning, including this.” He points to the leonine painting behind him. “Go prepare. Good luck and have fun.”
As the gaggle of students race back across the cobbled street to the Academy in whispering knots and clumps, J fights against the surge and bee-lines to you all. "Well, eveyone is certainly quite spirited today. Thank you for answering the call on behalf of the Society once again. As always, I am happy to answer any questions you might have about what exactly is going on today..."
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Gwen gives a smile and a wink to Tels. Then she returns the nod at Hari, making a slow circle with her hand behind her back. She mouths some words and they reach the girl's ear without anyone else hearing even while J is beginning his speech. "Hey, girlfriend! How's life? I need all the tea later. And I *know* you've got some epic prank plan. Hint at least."
She waits for any answer and then refocuses on what J is saying. Once the kids are gone, she asks, "Wait, we don't get to prank? Just sit by and have to watch them all?"
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Upon seeing the kids, Mrs. Crinkle lights up and immediately begins jesting around with them and handing out fuzzy candies. "So, dearies, which one of you drew that fantastic Eagle Knight, hmm? Quite the artist, I'd say! Heehee!"
"These Pathfinders will serve as impartial observers...neutral parties might get involved..."
"Oh, you bet your buttons we will! Heehee!" Mrs. Crinkle exclaims.
"As always, I am happy to answer any questions you might have about what exactly is going on today...""
"Oh yes, dearie! Besides making sure no one dies, how do you want us to chaperone the kiddos?" A moment of uncharacteristic responsibility bubbles up in the elderly woman. Perhaps it's motivated by the hope that there *are* no rules or expectations for the Pathfinders; this would be so much more fun that way.
Replying to Nicodemus, she tut-tuts: "Oh, poo! If you can't handle some good-natured fun, you're not cut out to be a Pathfinder! And I say, let's show these kids some real fun! Heehee!"
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Young lady, I have spent time studying under Kreighton - trust me when I say that I have a relatively high tolerance for pranks. They are a good way to release out tension... but the ones undertaking the pranks rarely have to deal with the fall-out from them. That is left for others to handle.
Certainly, they may have been instructed to handle the clean-up tomorrow, but when, not if, things go sideways today... it will be up to us to 'handle' the problems.
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Hari answers the message almost immediately. "Of course I do, a spreadsheet of outcomes and contigencies even. Do you know what the word "nostalgia" is? It's ancient Taldan meaning"homecoming pain". She giggles knowingly.
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To the cleric's query, he stretches his arms wide. "Yes, well I'm not sure how to answer that, as this will be the very first Prank War. You see, for weeks now, our students have been escalating ever‑more ingenious pranks culminating in the defacement of the soon-to-open Dacilane Academy auditorium we stand before. So, I wanted to formalize it a tad and let the students have some repreive from all the rigors of study this semester. A chance to take the lid off the pot, so to speak. So I guess we will find out what a Prank War is... together. But fear not, it isn't like I expect you to be mere observers (or even targets). Pathfinders should have some fun too. Right?"
He moves in a little closer to ensure the students can't hear the next words.
"The students often have grand ideas but may need help to make them appropriate for one another. Just remember you’re here to assist, not do the tasks for them — please provide them with your expertise and wisdom with the expresed goal that you should help them focus on tactics, diplomacy, but most importantly... not taking themselves too seriously! Be mentors, fun mentors, but allow them to engage with the experience themselves. Much like you did in the lodge up in Galt." He nods to those in the know.
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"Indeed!" J agrees. "The Medal of Foolery awaits!"
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As you finish your preparations, the sound of Ten Bells ring through the city as if summoned by your excitement to begin.
The front gates to the Academy remain swung open as a few students loiter outside the grounds. Having been here before you remember the layout well. Although there are a few sounds - slamming doors, fits of laughter... that greet you on this day.
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Entering the courtyard, a tidy lawn surrounds this stately single-story brick building beyond the academy’s iron gates. Three stone steps and two ramps ascend to the front entrance. The doors stand ajar, revealing the main hallway. Walking around the building leads to the grounds at the south side.
As Achurius and Gwen lead the way, you are immediately met on the inside by a halfling in full Eagle Knight regalia. She seems quite displeased, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. A bucket of water and neatly coiled length of rope lie at her feet. Her glare cuts though your party.
"I expected a little bit more from the Society, don't you have better things to do? Isn't Tar-Baphon still traipsing about?"
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Not much taller than the halfling herself, Mrs. Crinkle bustles over to sling a plump arm over her shoulder. "Oh, no worries, dearie!" She exclaims breezily as the halfling reacts to this sudden physical familiarity. She indicates Nicodemus with a flick of a finger (no, not *that* finger, thank goodness). "The floater here's right, of course. Gotta raise the kiddos up right! And you never know what nasty tricks your foes will pull on you. Demons think differently than ordinary folks, you know. That's why this prank war's such a genius idea! It'll get the kiddos using those noodles of theirs. Nothing's more challenging than a foe that always keeps you on your toes. Heehee!"
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Achurius leans against the corner of the hallway with a smile on his face.
"Besides, I take offense to the implication that we are an annoyance here. Instead of trying to get rid of us, you should make use of our expertise. Like Gwen here, I am interested in what you are planning on doing with that stuff. Do tell."
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"Someone suggested I put it up over the transom. Aren't you lucky I didn't or you'd be all wet right now." She shakes her head. "But really, I mean of all the things we could be using our talents for, especially a handful of able Pathfinder agents. And I am Cass Farsight, the proud daughter of a long line of Eagle Knights. What's the point of all this...frivolity?
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"It's also a way to train your responses to more lethal traps in a controlled setting, and to build resourcefulness in constructing traps for the occasional times when you want to prepare the battlefield to give you an advantage over a superior force or slow their pursuit long enough for you to escape. As Pathfinders the second word in our motto is "Report," and that's hard to do posthumously."
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Mrs. Crinkle suddenly wraps Cass in a headlock and gives her a dutch rub to be remembered for the ages. "Oh, come now dearie! Didn't you hear what I just told you? It's not just fun--it's educational! See, you didn't expect a cute little old lady to do this to you, did you dearie? What are you going to do now? Heehee!" The elderly woman makes Cass work to get free from the headlock, but only hard enough to make her point.
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"Oh, darling, darling! Achurius is right that the fey enjoy pranks. What he isn't saying is that if you find yourself subject to one, they don't just get you wet or make you look the fool. Well, perhaps a small number might. But greater number will spray acid to eat your face off. Or make you into a mosaic of your own entrails." She smiles sweetly.
"But it's not just about managing the fey. Some trickery can help you realize not everything is as it seems. And if people can do that with mere mundane items, you'd best be aware of what can be done with magic." Gwen waves her hand and a fish leaps out of the bucket only to fall back in and splash Cass from head to toe with water -- that turns out to be completely illusionary.
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The group is quite persuasive in their guidance. But when Mrs. Crinkle puts her own personal touch on the attempts, Cass wriggles her head awkwardly around in her arm until their faces meet. The young Eagle Knight's gaze is suprisingly cold and unflinching. Mrs. Crinkle senses not only the ire of the young student, but the weight of the entire Andoran nation upon her.
Once that dust clears, Cass regains her footing and exhales. "Perhaps I was a bit foolish. Or not foolish enough, I guess."
She picks up the bucket and rope and steps to the doorway, nodding a bit sheepishly to the bard's similar height. "Well, if teamwork is so important, let's do this. I assume you are all trained in how to make a humanoid pyramid. That's why they send you out in groups of six all the time, right?"
A voice shouts directions from the library and further screams and shouts come from the open door leading outside to the southern courtyard.