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Water laps steadily at the pier as sailors, laborers, and merchants rush busily around Absalom’s port. The venture-captain’s summons called for a meeting aboard the Sixwing Drake, a sleek sailing ship. The Drake’s captain, a Varisian woman and fellow Pathfinder named Zarah Zendrani, stands at the helm of her vessel. “It’s not like Valsin to be late,” she mutters, furrowing her brow. As if on cue, a tall and meticulously groomed man pushes his way through the crowd and up the gangplank, cursing audibly. “Whoever supervises this mess of a port needs to be dumped in
the sea!” he grumbles.
The tall man looks around at those gathered before him. “Just the group I requested. Perfect. I’m Venture- Captain Ambrus Valsin, and I took great care in selecting just the right Pathfinders for this assignment.” Valsin reaches into his belt pouch and withdraws a small, folded paper before continuing. “A few days ago, I received a curious note from a rather unexpected source. It’s not every day that I get a request from an agent of the Aspis Consortium.” Captain Zendrani’s eyes widen, and Valsin smiles knowingly. “But Magali Delroya does not appear to be your typical Aspis agent. As you surely know, the Aspis Consortium pursues a variety of activities across the Inner Sea that the Pathfinder Society finds abhorrent. It seems that Delroya has been working with them for some time, but can no longer stomach the snakes herself. She wants to stop a shipment of an experimental drug from leaving Diobel later this week. It’s bound for a number of locations across the Inner Sea region. According to Delroya, she can’t ask the local authorities for help, because the Aspis Consortium has already struck a deal with a faction of the Kortos Consortium, a powerful merchant collective. Her hands are tied, so she’s come to us for help. In this note, she outlines three different tasks that would help to disrupt the Aspis long enough for her to move the shipment to a secure location, out of the clutches of the consortium. Once you accomplish two of these tasks, she’s willing to meet with you, but not before.
“Normally, I wouldn’t trust an Aspis agent at any hour of the day. But our sources in Diobel have confirmed the Aspis and Kortos consortia’s activities. Everything checks out, so we are presented with a unique opportunity. If we help Delroya, we might not only strike a nancial blow against the Aspis Consortium, but we could also reveal their dealings with the Kortos Consortium—and possibly prevent their arrangement from turning into a more formal alliance. Furthermore, we hope to stop this drug from spreading across the Inner Sea region, and if we—if all of you—do a good enough job, we might even convince Delroya to join the Society. A turncoat agent would be a valuable asset in our ongoing run-ins with the Aspis Consortium.
“Take some time to look over Delroya’s note and the tasks she has set for you. If you have any questions, now is the time to ask. Remember, the Aspis Consortium is a long-time enemy of the society, but the Kortos Consortium, while certainly suspicious, is not our enemy. It is a complex organization with many factions, and we should avoid antagonizing any of them, except when necessary to oppose the Aspis Consortium.”
There is no formal alliance between the Kortos Consortium and Aspis Consortium, and the two groups are likely working together in a limited capacity—at least for the time being.
Although the Aspis Consortium seems to have an agreement with part of the Kortos Consortium, neither group is centralized enough for such an arrangement to be very stable. Causing a major disruption in their operation would very likely sever ties between the two groups.
House Locosta, the faction allied with the Aspis Consortium, claims that its major interest is in Qadiran spices, but the family derives most of its profit from buying and selling Qadiran slaves.
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The dark haired woman listens in, she is both elegant and stylish, wearing a nice mail and a rather fine looking bow and her fine and graceful features hint at some Tian ancestry
Know:Loc
Rain tells the party what she knows...
"Why was she so upset about Diobel? Why was that town the straw that broke the camels back?"
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A tall leather-clad half-elf stands here, cestus on one hand and fauchard held upright next to him in the other. His dull, deep-set eyes and down-turned mouth hint at a somber, almost cynical man. At the mention of bringing financial troubles to the Aspis, however, his eyes seem to glow and a sardonic smile spreads across his face.
"If there is anything that we can do to repay the debt the Aspis incurred, you can count me in."
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Henri, with his ever-present grin, slouches easily in the back of the room, half-hidden by the shadows. When he gets a chance to review the documents, he says to the group, "I reckon we should take care of the alchemist and his formula - that would prevent any long-term issues from this drug. And if we want this Aspis agent to be an effective double-agent, they must not have any suspicions about her. So we should help 'steer' that investigation. ANd any way we can make the Aspis look bad in the eyes of Kortos citizens is a bonus!"
At the mention of the word "snakes", a low "Grrrr" emanates from the dark-furred wolf standing a few steps away from the group.
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"Hush, Nighteyes," the Ulfen man turns to reassure the wolf. "He's not fond of snakes," he explains to the party apologetically, "and nor am I for that matter."
As the note from Delroya is passed around, Fitzsvanhild barely glances at it awkwardly before handing it on. "What do we know about this drug? What does it do to people?"
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A petite, discreet girl chimes in, clothed in foreign garb - of Tien make, no doubt. Her shy voice yet rings true to your ears, and listening to her quickly becomes a trance like experience.
"I'm impressed by your masterful planning skills, honored fellow Pathfinder. I whole-heartedly agree that the alchemist should be the first to be investigated. What his mind yields may yet be vital to our success. Well met, by the way. I am Shisen, one of the newest agents among the Society, freshly arrived from Goka." she concludes as she bows gracefully then beams a charming, almost disarming smile.
You know as much about Diobel as I do. The ‘Doorway to Absalom.’ Shipments to and from Absalom often go through Diobel, which has lower taxes than Absalom. Trade with Diobel is an important part of Absalom’s economy—which is why we must tread lightly around the Kortos Consortium, given their influence in Diobel. What disillusioned Magali so much, I can only guess.
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Captain Zendrani and the crew of the sleek Sixwing Drake steer the ship up to the massive barrier of broken war-barges, crumbling walls, and jetties of iron and wood that protect the port of Diobel. “Well, here we are,” says the captain. “I’ll make sure everything is in order with Diobel’s inspectors and charter you a barge to the port. You aren’t carrying anything particularly valuable, so you shouldn’t draw much attention from the inspectors or pilots, so long as you don’t run your mouth. My crew and I will wait here with the ship. You can return here to rest, if you need to, but remember—there isn’t much time!”
[o0c]It's the dawn of oathday. Since you want to go to the
Delroya’s directions lead to an isolated alley in the Bristles, and then down into the sewers beneath Diobel. The stench of sewage mixes with the sharper odors of chemical fumes and decay and permeates the damp tunnels. From this intersection, tunnels lead west and south into the darkness. A third tunnel heading east is filled with detritus, filthy beddings, food scraps, broken glass, and rotting furniture. An alcove lies beyond a collapsed portion of the tunnel’s southern wall, and further east, a statue of a giant rat rests in the dead-end passage. Countless empty flasks and discarded alchemical ingredients lie on the floor around the statue. On a nearby workbench sit several organized but empty flasks and jars.
There's four people in this sewer, lying on the floor in an unreactive state.
The stench of the sewer is quite strong, but fortunately the filth is contained in the canal. Henri doesn't find any traps in this little underground den, but when Cyjke and Valenor search the first body, it rattles something delusional
The leper comes, bearing gifts...
...do-be-do-be-do...
Nighteyes pads around the room, sniffing out anything unusual.
When studying medical subjects, Cyjke learned that talking humans are usually still alive.
The four men still lie sprawled, clealry in a stupor of some sort
...he leaves a bit of himself... dum-di-dum... the other man hums
...I am the prince of Diobel... bow to me... the first says with a soft voice.
Cyjke easily determines that these men are completely bombed off their skulls. Shisen looks around, but the strong smell in the sewer makes her eyes water. Perhaps a more thorough search yields better results.
a-hooo.... one man howls, and the others join in a-hoooo!
Concealed in the sleeping pallet of one of the drugged men in the alcove is a small vial.
The substance looks like an unrefined drug of sorts.
The dose of drugs is the start of evidence that illegal substances are being concocted here, but there is no further incriminating evidence present. The four men on the floor are impossible to rouse, their mental capacities molten by the effects of the substance
...when the moon rises, the bits fall down... The leper leaves a bit of himself...
Do-be-do-be-do
The group leaves the sewer before they smell too bad, and make their way to the Oyster.
The Over owing Oyster is a dirty, broken-looking building that barely fits between the fishing tackle shop to its north and the junk shop to its south. Hanging over the door is a creaky sign that shows a painted oyster with pearls spilling from its gaping shell.
The interior of the Over owing Oyster displays a mix of rickety furniture and gaudy decorations, from strands of obviously fake pearls hanging over the kitchen’s entrance to wooden carvings of sultry mermaids and cheap paintings of ships at sea.
Despite its name, the dirty tavern is hardly crowded. There's a handful of people hunched over some cheap food, rolling some dice, and cursing and muttering about their lives. One or two patrons are coming in for an early lunch. The barkeep is called Palthus Flinther, Call me 'Pal', who doesn't seem to be too stressed out by the lack of customers as he order his mute younger brother around to tend the kitchen.
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In a low voice, Henri asks the others - "How can we prevent the meeting? Close the place down? Spread out and keep our ears open, and if we find one of them start a scene? Perhaps we can use the information about the owner selling fake pearls on the black market to help...they are supposed to meet at noon so we need to determine our plan and set it in motion quickly..."