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Pathfinders explore Golarion in service to lore. This widespread group of treasure hunters, thrillseekers, sages, and voyagers make it their lives’ work to uncover lost artifacts, map neglected ruins, and learn forgotten knowledge. They do these things for the sake of lore, as well as for fame. The Pathfinder Society publishes the Pathfinder Chronicles, a multi-volume series of chapbooks highlighting some of the most amazing finds by field agents.
Pathfinders are part archaeologist, part historian, and all adventurer. Many established Pathfinders make their own way in the world, following their interests or tracking down leads to greater mysteries. These established few are still subject to orders from their superiors, but the least prestigious tasks are usually reserved for those new to the organization . The Society is governed by the Decemvirate, 10 anonymous leaders who pull strings and guide the organization from Skyreach in the Grand Lodge of Absalom. They hand down orders from their secret posts to venture-captains, who in turn pass the orders to field agents.
The Society has few rules, but all Pathfinders are expected to perform the Three Duties: explore, report, and cooperate. Idle Pathfinders are useless to the organization, and agents must seek out secrets or further their work in exploration of some kind, always growing and gathering knowledge. This exploration would be worthless if not for frequent reports. Pathfinders must send back accounts of their adventures, many of which end up published by the Decemvirate. Finally, Pathfinders are great heroes from dozens of countries and backgrounds with thousands of different motivations and allegiances, and the Decemvirate expects that individual Pathfinders will not interfere with one another, and absolutely never let a conflict between themselves come to blows.
Despite the mandate to cooperate, Pathfinders have myriad motivations and often fall in with similarly minded factions within the organization, or external groups with close ties to the Society. As fresh new recruits, most Pathfinders know only the venture-captains who give them their training, especially Ambrus Valsin, the man in charge of daily operations in the Grand Lodge.
A new batch of Pathfinder agents has completed their training and now stand fresh and wide-eyed before the towering structure of Skyreach awaiting their first assignment for the Pathfinder Society.
As you show up, you are shepherded into a small room with a table and some chairs and told to wait until Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin sends for you.
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Lyra Greyburn, a young human female, walks into the small room. Her brown hair is kept in a short ponytail, and her style of dress is decidedly masculine, though she does not seem to be making any real effort to come across as a man.
She looks disappointedly at the table. Hungry for some real action, she thinks to herself, What fine mess have I gotten myself into with this? Sitting still is precisely what I've been trying to avoid. She thinks back on all of the songs she used to sing as a child, based on the adventures that her father had told her that he had been on. Not one of them that she can recall involved sitting at a table and waiting patiently.
Reluctantly, she takes a seat at the table. She leans back in her chair and puts both feet up onto the table, and waits.
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A young man walks into the room, tall, tanned and dressed in greens and browns. He glances around the room. His brown hair is very short and his blue eyes betray his happy mood. He carries a longsword at his hip and a longbow, unstrung right now, is carried on his back. In addition, the young man carries a wide brimmed, low crown hat in his hands. He nods politely to those in the room and finds a spot in the corner to lean against the wall.
My name is Halkale Timarson. he says to no one in particular.
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Lyra nods to the others as they enter the room. She is especially appreciative of Alonzo's display, and is amused by his use of the word "lady." "My name is Lyra Greyburn," she says, now that there are others there for her to introduce herself to. She mentally compares their weapons to her own; a shortsword and dagger at her side, and a shortbow on her back.
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The doors to the room open as another recruit is ushered in. The man that strides deliberately into the room is exceptionally tall and well built without being overly muscular. He wears a simple grey robe with a cowl pulled up over the crown of his head, but not enough to hide his features. The robe is half open in the front and secured by a sturdy leather belt from which hangs a sheathed scimitar. Heavy leather gloves cover his hands and are matched by a calf high pair of leather boots. Beneath his robe is a battered suit of scale mail which was likely a real bargain.
Stray shining silver locks of hair hang across his forehead from beneath his cowl, and his eyes are bright golden in color and devoid of pupils. His skin has a faint bluish color, making him appear as if he has been out in the cold for far too long. On his left cheek you notice what appears to be a tattoo of some sort, deeply blue and depicting a flower in full bloom. From behind the flower shoot rays of light and the whole image is crowned by a pair of wings.
As he nears the table and selects a seat he bows to the others assembled in the room, the shield slung across his back slipping for a moment and making the movement somewhat awkward and off-balance, as if he is still adjusting to wearing such items.
He then speaks in a deep and melodic voice, "Greetings friends and fellow candidates, Adakos Wraithbane, humble servant of Sarenrae, at your service."
He slings a freshly purchased and unused backpack from his shoulder and places it on the floor next to the chair, which he then eases himself into. The wood protests the sudden weight with an audible creaking which luckily does not lead to the new arrival spilling to the floor.
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The sunlight spilling in through the open door is momentarily dimmed by the figure of another person entering the room, interrupting conversation.
The man who enters is by no means the tallest in the room, although his broad shoulders and muscular body make up for what he lacks in height compared to the other men. They also denote considerable hours of training, a notion reinforced by the longsword sheathed at his side and the shield, covered in wicked spikes, slung over his back. He is dressed simply but with extreme care. Leather breeches and boots encase his legs, and scale armor and gauntlets cover his torso and arms. A cloak, light red in color (although this seems to be more from many hours in the sun and many, many washings, rather than an intentional dying choice), hugs his back, trapped close to his body by the shield.
He walks very quickly over to the table and, with one motion, slides the shield from his back with one hand, his pack, previously hidden by the bulk of his shield, with the other, and props both against one of the table legs. He then sits slowly, with rigid posture, at such an angle that he can see every one of the other people in the room. With shadows no longer hiding the details of his features, his face is revealed to be relatively plain and unremarkable. His skin is light bronze, and his extremely close-cropped hair is black. His nose looks to have been broken several times, and his ears stick out only very slightly. His eyes are a light almond, and are wide with urgency.
Indeed, despite all his training and combat instruction, it does not appear that his instructors prepared him for the ordeal of meeting strangers. It seems as if the young man is in a barely restrained panic. His hands are tightly gripping the arms of his chair, and his legs are seemingly locked together at the knees, never to be unfolded. His nostrils are flared, even though his breathing is deep. He is perspiring lightly.
He looks around at the other occupants of the room, nods slightly and sharply, and clears his throat. "Hello," he says. "My name is Abasi Essa." He nods again, and looks down at his lap.
You are shown into the office of Ambrus Valsin, the venture-captain in charge of daily operations in and around the Grand Lodge. The efficient and straightforward chamberlain greets you curtly and motions for you to sit before jumping straight into your assignment.
“All right, Pathfinders! Listen up. I know you are new recruits eager to make names for yourselves in the organization, but first we need to make sure you are up to snuff and won’t get yourself killed out there. I have a number of small assignments for you and your team, and it would be best if you could finish them before the day’s end.
“Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some sniveling bootlicker willing to do anything to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It’s rough out there and I’m not just talking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness Pathfinders find themselves in on missions. We’ve got people who look down their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we have collected. This wealth of knowledge and these items of lore make us the most powerful organization on the planet. That said, since we are fractured and widespread, it’s difficult for that power to light on anything for too long. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies.
“Your first mission, to test your mettle and loyalties, sends you to meet a few people important to the Society living here in Absalom. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organization, so follow their orders as you would mine. I’ve prepared a list of things I want you to do. They’re not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. Only report to me once you complete them all. Included in the envelope you hold in your hands is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location.”
- A man named Guaril Karela runs a curio shop in the Docks called the Pickled Imp. Go to him and fill his request as a favor to the Society. I believe it has something to do with a set of rare books.
- Ollysta Zadrian requested aid and is expecting you at the Temple of the Shining Star in the Ascendant Court. She needs someone to deliver a parcel of medicine and curatives to a needy orphanage and verify the character of the recipient.
- Visit the offices of Osirian nobleman Dremdhet Salhar in the Wise Quarter. The Pathfinder Society needs to obtain permission to delve the Salhar ancestral vaults beneath Sothis. He has made a verbal agreement, and your visit makes it official. You will receive an official charter and detailed maps. Do not embarrass the Society in this matter.
- Chelish Paracountess Zarta Dralneen possesses an item loaned from the Vaults. Meet with her in her estate in the Ivy District and retrieve the item in her possession.
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Adakos waits for a turn to check over the list as it is passed around. At the comment from Halkale he frowns slightly and says, "Looking at the requests they have set forth, I don't see anything here that would lead me to believe we should expect violence to be a concern. These appear to be rather menial tasks and likely, or rather hopefully, would not require such means."
He studies the parchment for a moment before asking the group, "I don't suppose anyone here is familiar with the local surroundings enough to serve as a guide to our first objective. Or even more, which objective should be our first stop based on our current location? I must admit, I am new to the city and would be lucky to find my own shadow in the street."
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After Abasi receives the list and gives it a once-over, he mumbles, almost as if to himself, "The only items on this that seem to be pressing are the medicine deliveries and the vault delving. The orphanage is an obvious first choice, but it wouldn't reflect well upon the Society to not affirm our agreement with Lord Salhar as quickly as possible." He then pauses to consider what Adakos had said. "Although it's true that there is an issue of distance. Depending on the location, we may need to prioritize the others."
Are we...um..cleared..um..for violence to ...um complete these ...jobs?
"Don't go starting any unnecessary fights, but fight if you have to," says Valsin. "Use your best judgment. Remember that you are Pathfinders, not common thugs."
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"So it looks like if we were to go to the Ivy District first to meet the Paracountess, we could head east and then south from there and work our way up the list while getting as much as we can done as quickly as possible." Lyra turns towards Alonzo. "So if it helps us to finish everything as quickly as possible, I am with Alonzo on meeting the Paracountess first, and then heading to the Wise Quarter to visit the nobleman."
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Adakos nods in agreement with Lyra and says, "It sounds like the popular vote has been cast to visit the Paracountess and the Ivy District first. I agree that it would not be wise to keep the nobility waiting. Halkale and Abasi, any objections to this plan?"
Turning his attention to the chamberlain he adds, "What is the expected timeframe for our completion of these duties? You said quickly, but some of us measure time in different ways."
Turning his attention to the chamberlain he adds, "What is the expected timeframe for our completion of these duties? You said quickly, but some of us measure time in different ways."
"I'd like to see you back here before I leave for the evening, so you've got roughly ten hours."
"Perhaps after we reach the Ascendant Court, we could split up, one group to deliver the medicine, and the other to head to the docks."
"You are forgetting something," Valsin interjects. "You'll be carrying several valuble items. Also, in our line of work, you rarely know exactly what you're getting into."
"Now get going."
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Abasi's eyebrows raise. He mutters, "I didn't realize our first job would be so risky. Very well - we'll stick together. I suppose if trouble does come our way, I'd prefer to have four at my back instead of one or two." With that, he stands up, picks up his pack and shield, and places them carefully back over his shoulders.
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen’s townhouse in the Ivy District is a magnificent gothic structure three stories in height. The ebon lacquered double doors wrought with gleaming silver fixtures greet the characters, a prickly brass cone hanging from a chain serving as the door chime. Moments after ringing it, a servant in loose casual attire opens the door, greeting the Pathfinders as if expected.
Led through well-appointed sitting rooms, ballrooms, and a grand stairway granting a view of an elaborate study, the PCs finally arrive on the third floor of the house, at the door of Zarta’s personal study, which lies beyond her bedroom. Knocking upon the door and announcing his presence, the servant opens the darkly stained wooden door.
A large intricate carpet dominates the marble floor in this sitting room. A chaise sits along the north wall and a desk spans the southeast corner, its chair positioned with its back to the southwest corner of the room. Three comfortable chairs are positioned around a small, low circular table.
Sitting in the chair behind the desk, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen regards you with a wry smile, putting away a few papers before standing to address the hopeful Pathfinders.
“Aldor, you are dismissed. Close the door behind you and attend to your other tasks.” She then turns her attention to the group. “It’s always so incredibly adorable when I see a freshfaced batch of Pathfinders. I mean, look at you scrumptious little teacakes. I could eat each and every one of you up. Well, maybe not you.” Zarta points. “I assume this isn’t a pleasure visit since most of you are terribly overdressed for that manner of occasion, so that must mean you are here for that trinket Valsin has been nagging me about. Seems I can’t get that man around these parts anymore,” she gestures, sliding her hand down her body and widening the gesture to sweep out and across the room as if her home were a secondary thought. “On the good side, he always sends me all the precious new recruits.
“Many think we in Cheliax serve and worship devils, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, we use the creatures for their power. They serve us and we sculpt their power in our own interests. The world must come to terms with the order of things. People need to know their place and operate accordingly. It is the only way to make order from this world. Too many people stretch too far beyond their station, making waves and eroding the true order.”
As the paracountess talks, a cacophony of booms and crashes sounds from beyond the room’s west door. She sometimes pauses at an extended eruption of these noises before continuing with the conversation. If asked about the neighboring ruckus, Zarta explains, “A servant is greatly misbehaving. You’re going to have to deal with it in order to get the trinket.” She goes over to the desk in her study, opening a drawer and drawing out an exquisite silver letter opener shaped like a dagger . “You might need this to get it to submit,” she offers with a sly grin.
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Perception:
Lyra watches intently as Zarta slides her hand down her body, but tries not to let it on. At the offer of the dagger, she draws her own short sword and holds it at her side. "I think I'll be fine with what I've got." She turns to the others and says "One of you should take that thing."
Upon hearing another crash, Lyra turns to Zarta and asks "What the devil is in there, anyways?
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Hearing the mention of the use of demons and devils for the furtherance of personal power and gain sets Adakos immediately on edge. He fights to maintain a sense of diplomacy and discipline while clenching his hands tightly at his side, the leather of his gloves creaking with the motion.
He stares hard at the Paracountess and asks as politely as he can manage, "Am I to assume you have some sort of beastly servant in that room that we are expected to deal with for you? From the sounds of it I do not believe it is prepared to submit to words alone. Is it to be captured, or disposed of?"
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Abasi has remained quiet throughout the cab ride and being escorted through Paracountess Dralneen's mansion. Upon reaching the study, he takes a careful look around.
Having noticed nothing, he takes a place next to the entrance of the study and fixes his attention upon the Paracountess.
He does not speak throughout or after Dralneen's speech, but his demeanor seems to become less of an awkward young man and that of an irritated one. The clear arrogance of the woman and the dismissiveness with which she treats him and his companions, as envoys of the Society, angers him.
He steps up to take that letter opener, and takes the opportunity when at the desk to ask what the item looks like.
Upon hearing another crash, Lyra turns to Zarta and asks "What the devil is in there, anyways?
Zarta grins and says "An apt turn of phrase. You'll find out soon enough."
[dice=Sense Motive on Zarta]d20+5
He stares hard at the Paracountess and asks as politely as he can manage, "Am I to assume you have some sort of beastly servant in that room that we are expected to deal with for you? From the sounds of it I do not believe it is prepared to submit to words alone. Is it to be captured, or disposed of?"
"Do whatever you want to it, I don't care."
He steps up to take that letter opener, and takes the opportunity when at the desk to ask what the item looks like.
Abasi opens the door and you all peer inside. Zarta’s bedroom is decorated in the colors of Cheliax — ebon black and crimson red. Silk, rare woods, and carefully carved marble compose every bit of furniture in the room. Goose down now litters the room, covering almost every surface and the silken shreds of the cushions that contained it lie about like flayed skin . A post on the massive screened bed is snapped in half, collapsed on the bed and drawing the screened curtains into a ripped slope of formerly fine cloth. Vials of perfume and crystal jars of other cosmetics sit smashed on the marble floor around the dresser. A prominent fixture in the room, a large “X” made of stout wood sits along the west wall, complete with leather shackles and chains. A table sits to its left strewn with various items intended for pleasure, but outwardly resembling implements of pain.
The two-foot-tall vaguely humanoid creature on the other side of the room is too busy hammering something against the wall to notice that you've opened the door.
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Adakos peers into the room with his campanions, not really sure what to expect when the door is opened. Seeing the "X" on the wall, and guessing at its obvious use, jars him slightly. Noting the mess it is obvious that the creature in the room has caused quite a bit of havoc.
Adakos attempts to determine what exactly this humanoid is and what it is hammering on or with.
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Initiative:
Abasi creeps into the room first. His attention is solely fixed on the creature that has trashed the room. He's not one to take unnecessary risks, but he wants to get the job done and leave as quickly as possible. His curiosity is also roused. He heads up and to the left to take a better look at the creature, weapons at the ready.
Perception:
Stealth:
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Initiative:
Perception:
Stealth:
Lyra follows the others in, grimacing at the tools of "pleasure" lying about. And upon observing the creature, she thinks to herself, Well, I guess it's already distracted enough... I suppose it might not make much notice of a little tune over its own noise.
Lyra steps to the right of Halkale, preparing to use her performance (singing) on him to inspire courage (+1 to attack and damage rolls, as well as to saving throws against charm/fear, if either of those matter).
Round 1
Initiative Order
Abasi
Halkale
Lyra
Adakos
K
Round 1
Summary:
Everyone bursts into the room. Halkale looses an arrow, which slams into the wall above the creature's head. Surprised, it darts, half-walking, half-flying, behind the wreckage of the bed.
Initiative Order
Abasi
Halkale
Lyra
K
Adakos