As a clock chimes the hour,
Ambrus Valsin opens the door
to admit his guests then resumes
his seat next to a grey-eyed woman
wearing the robes of an academic.
“Please seat yourselves quickly so
we can begin. This is Lady Darchana
Madinani, archdean of Absalom’s premier school of the arcane,
the Arcanamirium. She’s has come to the Pathfinder Society
on delicate business.”
Darchana takes a moment to greet any of you she has
met in previous missions before continuing the briefing.
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Eadie is looking straight up at the ceiling, attempting to balance her morning star’s shaft in the middle of her forehead, when VC Valsin calls the meeting to order.
Easy, peasy.
“She has come to the Pathfinder Society on delicate business.”
“WELL! She’s come to the right place then. Caution and tact are my specialties! I mean, why use a nutcracker when a sledge hammer will make sure! Am I right?”
With her chin on her chest, Eadie tries balancing the weapon on the back of her head as an encore. Her voice is somewhat muffled as a result.
“Oh and of course, we’re all professionals. Every aspect of the job is treated very, very seriously.”
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"Mornin', Eadie! Nice balancing act... Sledgehammer!' she laughs. The diminutive gnome in new gold-washed mithral armor with the symbol of the sun worked into the chain links watches with amusement as Eadie then drops her weapon off the back of her head. "You're much better with your forehead, my dear. And it's better for butting heads too..."
"So it seems we have ourselves a new assignment... I still miss being a godling. Can't we do that again???" she whines in mockery of herself more than realism. "Hey! If we have to pretend to be slaves and master... I'll be the master.. It'd be funnier that way!"
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"Lorelendral, Eadie - so good to see you to again." Ignatius enters the room, clearly proud of his new mithral armor, though trying not to appear like he's showing it off.
As he sits down, he watches Eadie's balancing act. "Yes, we're all professionals here, but professional whats, exactly?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks at the fighter.
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A pig wearing a wig and false Groucho glasses shows up to the briefing with a note on his collar.
Going to be late. Research problems. If needed, brief Professor; I can talk to himnowlater. ~EK
-Posted with Wayfinder
The woman waits for the assembled 'professionals' to come to order before she continues. Valsin nods for her to proceed.
Lady Darchana
Madinani and Ambrus Valsin
“As Second Spell Lord of Absalom, I continually investigate magical
attempts to attack our home. The Pathfinder Society recently aided
one of my investigations by capturing a disguised Okeno slave
ship used for several months to transport various unfortunates to
Absalom for sale as slaves to the city’s noble families. Normally
this would be legal, yet it seems someone has marked each of
these slaves for use as divination foci. I can’t ignore the threat
posed by such an insidious spy network. With the capture of
that ship, we’re now in an excellent position to strike back at the
hidden mastermind behind the slave-scrying.
She looks at Eadie to make sure the Morningstar stays down.
“Know that I do not come to the Pathfinder Society lightly.
I am taking on a calculated political risk by asking you to
handle this investigation for me. But my long friendship with
your master of spells Aram Zey has given me confidence in the
abilities—and discretion—of Pathfinder agents.
She looks to each of you, and manages to emphasize the word discretion with a raised eyebrow.
“Using my own spells, I acquired an image of the slaver:
a humanoid woman wearing a heavy veil and peering into
a mirror. Her clothing is common in Kelish fashion, and I
could sense her location was somewhere underground on
Stonespine Island.
“Although we could pursue conventional means of tracking
down the slavers, I have taken measures to ensure our quarry
does not see you coming, and I would appreciate a similar
effort from you. I propose disguising yourselves either
as slaves for sale or possibly the slavers selling them.
If successful, you need only allow our enemy’s
agents to escort you to their hidden stronghold.
Once inside, it should be a modest challenge for you
to escape and take their leader by surprise.”
Lady Darchana pauses for emphasis.
“Your goals are to capture the veiled spymaster and to
bring the scrying mirror I observed back to
Absalom for further study. If the spymaster
dies before she is brought here, that would
be regrettable but also understandable.”
She crosses her arms as she concludes.
“Before you get too concerned,”
Ambrus adds quickly, “it isn’t the
Society’s practice to sell our field
agents into slavery. We’re sending
you with a reliable cover story and
a magical edge we can discuss in a
moment. This isn’t just because it’s
a dangerous assignment; we also
found the name ‘Muhlia’ associated
with the captured Okeno ship. It’s
not a common name, but if haven’t
kept up with recent history,
I can understand why you may
not remember her. Pasha Muhlia al’Jakri was an associate
of ours who represented Qadira’s interests to the Pathfinder
Society.
He looks for any sign of recollection before adding...
Three years ago, she departed following very ugly
circumstances in Taldor and hasn’t been seen since. If it’s true
that she’s building a spy network in Absalom, we need to head
off the threat she poses to the society before she can strike.”
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A swarthy looking man with unearthly handsome good looks, lounges in the corner feeding peanuts to a monkey perched on his shoulder, a smug grin on his face. Listening to the mission briefing, he shakes his head, but says nothing. Never hearing of the name of Muhlia, he winks at Eadie and flashes a smile.
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The diminutive gnome watches with amusement as Eadie then drops her weapon off the back of her head. "You're much better with your forehead, my dear. And it's better for butting heads too..."
Eadie picks up her morning star, and waggles a finger at it. She opens her mouth as if to give it a right telling off.
“Grandmaster Torch once told me it’s a dumb tradesman that doesn’t blame her tools.”
Eadie rubs her forehead and the back of her head as if she’s comparing them somehow … “Yeah, I’d say my forehead being pretty flat might have something to do with it, Lore. Oh, but you’ve given me the idea of using a ‘Riddleport Kiss’ as an iterative attack. Hmm …”
She looks at Eadie to make sure the Morningstar stays down.
Eadie tries to hide her morning star behind her back and *whistles innocently* when she notices a strange pig enter the briefing room.
“Is this your pig, Lady D? They say owners and their pets tend to look like alike.” Eadie bends down to check the mysterious pig’s collar. "Oh, and apparently his name is Professor EK. Such an appropriate name for an academic’s familiar …
Eadie looks up sharply at Absalom's Second Spell Lord. "Do you ever feed him, Lady Darchana?"
The woman raises an eyebrow at Eadie's comment, responding without a pause.
"Why no, my dear. I figured it followed you in from the farm."
She glances at Ambrus and then back to the group.
"Are we all settled then? Are there any intelligent questions I can address before I depart?"
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Eadie figures being called ‘fresh off the farm’ is some kinda gibe, but she can’t work out why. Being a city girl she has always respected those on the land.
Resourceful, hard-working folk, growing the food we need. *shrug* Darn Toffee-noses! I’ll never understand them.
A pig wearing false Groucho glasses …
The warrior bows deeply. “Apologies, My Lady. I saw all the hair on Professors Eck’s upper lip and leapt to the wrong conclusion.”
"Are there any intelligent questions I can address before I depart?"
Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for someone to answer mine?”
“Why doesn’t sovereign glue stick to the side of the bottle?”
“Why are oranges called oranges, but lemons aren’t called yellows?”
“Why does Chelaxian pizza come in a square box?”
“What is the square root of infinity?”
“Can atheists get insurance for an Act of Iomedae?”
“If you had amnesia, and a cleric healed you, would you remember that you forgot?”
“If a cow laughs, does milk come out her nose?”
♞♞♞♞
“Lore, I’m cool with you being slave mistress.”
Hmm … you might wanna think about that …
Eadie narrows her eyes. “Wait! What are you gonna make us do?”
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The pig nods, his master still apparently trying to figure out how to upgrade a headband.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Continuing the conversation with Eadie, Darchana answers
the last question (only).
“We have considered other options, but
posing as slaves gives you the best chance of taking the
spymaster we seek by surprise. Besides, if you fail, we
have every reason to believe you’ll simply be shipped back
to Absalom where it’s convenient to retrieve you.”
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"This woman does not have food, but I listened to things she said. Job done. Now where is that jerk with my snack?" Snouts thinks, snorting and sniffing noisily as he barely listens to keywords of the briefing.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Ernest, a Osirian/Chelish guy of about 20 years, sports a paler skin tone than most Osiriani while still retaining their facial structures. He is a somewhat tall man of a standard, mildly-athletic build. He carries with him a backpack of gear, has a set of wands with an imprint of the Osiriani royal scarab embedded in it located on his belt.
"Ah! I'm late! I'm sorry!" He announces, moving too quickly and having to reflexively jump around things and likely almost knocking over some inattentive pathfinder were he unable to teleport inherently.
He makes his way into the room, a little out of breath. He speaks in a panic, "Do-don't repeat yourself, Lady Darchana; I'm sure the Professor can tell me what we're supposed to do. I, uh, I do want to apologize again."
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Ernest returns a singular, confused-sounding snort to respond.
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Johender snorts in mirth, at the entrance and following exchange of the newcomer. Shaking his head, he tosses a couple peanuts in the direction of the Professor.
Lanquidly pushing himself off the wall, he tilts his head, popping his vertebrae. "So's ye thinks this Muhlia is rigged her jibe sail again't the Society? Any chance of reefin' her in?"
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Eadie walks over to Johendar and watches him feed his monkey for a while before summoning the courage to ask “Can I have a peanut to feed him with, please? What’s his name? What’s your name? I’m Eadie.”
“Besides, if you fail, we have every reason to believe you’ll simply be shipped back to Absalom where it’s convenient to retrieve you.”
Yeah right! If we fail, Ambrus Valsin’s expendable agents will be abandoned to their fate. *sigh* Such is the life of a Pathfinder agent.
With everyone’s life at stake, Eadie suddenly becomes serious. “So you believe this ‘Muhlia al’Jakri’ is the veiled spymaster you want? Is that right? What kind of abilities does she possess – I mean is her arcane power derived from book-learning or is it natural? What does she look like?”
“I have heard of magical mirrors having nasty traps – like being able to conjure evil duplicates of yourself or trapping your soul. Do you know if there are any associated with the one you seek?”
“Where exactly is Stonespire Island? How are we going to find it? Will we have transport provided – like a slave caravan or something?”
“What about our gear? I’m kinda reliant on it in a fight. Or is this where your magical doohickie comes into play, VC Valsin?”
♞♞♞♞
As Ernest *pops* into view, Eadie is so startled she nearly draws a weapon on the man. It takes her a while to link the pig with the wizard as her face darts from one to the other as they … communicate?
“Ohhhh … so Professor Eks is your pig, Mister. And he really hasn’t had any breakfast? I can help with that!”
Eadie pulls her remaining trail rations from her pack and puts them on a plate on the ground for the pig.
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Ernest nods at the sailor lingo as Snouts abandons his verbal picket line to eat peanuts and later a whole day's ration. "Yeah, I drove a boat once. We were pirates."
"Oh, uh, I'm Ernest Kalthet, Certified Pathfinder Field Agent. I, uh, make holes in stuff. Well, more the ground. Not people. Well, I mean, the one kind of pit can put holes in people. I don't, uh, want to put holes, i-in people directly. I just, uh, make holes that sometimes make holes themselves. Not, like, a hole-in-a-hole; nobody's done that yet better than "mundane pit in a magic pit". Extradimensional metaphysical laws are kinda unbreakable, except in a Bag of Hold- Oh wait, that reminds me. Is anyone an Alchemist?" He only now sees Snouts is about 1/4th the way through the ration. "Wait! He's already eaten twice today!"
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Lore listens for answers to Eadie's questions while looking at the cute pig out of the corner of her eye while listening.
"Well, if I'm playing slave mistress, I don't need to give up my gear." she says, as if it's a foregone conclusion. "If anyone has a portable hole, bag of holding or haversack, I can keep all your gear close at hand and read for quick dispersal if that's the plan. If not, I'm not sure how we're gonna handle this... Give you each a chest to carry, as if you were beasts of burden, but which in reality holds each of your gear?"
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"Yeah, I drove a boat once. We were pirates."
“Yeah … I mean, ARRH! I know boats! I spent the summer cruising the Fever Sea hunting pirates. Often did I weigh the mizzen and luff and touch the spanker!”
Eadie *sighs* blissfully as she remembers. “By day, me and my frien … mates slew HEAPS of pirates.” Realizing what she's said, the young Pathfinder quickly glances at Johendar, hoping her words haven't offended him.
“And then we danced and sang the night away … Uhhh, I mean we drank our fill o’ grog and told rude jokes to one another. I even used the word 'darn'. TWICE! And not in relation to socks, either.”
Darchana waits impatiently as Valsin ushers in the late comers.
"What is this a traveling zoo, Ambrus? First a pig, and now a monkey?
Nevermind...where were we? Oh yes, they asked what else they should know about Muhlia al’Jakri"
She recomposes herself while Ambrus sighs before responding to Johendar and Eadie's questions.
“Muhlia is a resourceful negotiator and agent
who was known for nursing grudges even before she disappeared.
Over the past several years,
her name has appeared documents recovered from
Aspis Consortium operations. We believe she may have
had a close connection to the Desimire brothers Aglorn
and Tancred, both associated with the Consortium and
slain during conflicts with the Society. Muhlia favors
deception and ambushes, so be on your guard.”
Ambrus Valsin listens to the concerns of the group.
He turns to Lore and rubs his hands together as a proud grin cracks
his businesslike expression.
“Thought you’d never ask about bags of holding and portable holes!
I’ve brought one of our experiments out of development
for a field test,” he explains while planting a boot on an
unremarkable cedar chest.
“This is a magic chest warded
in much the same way as our craftspeople sometimes
enchant small pouches. From the outside, it’s non-magical
and holds whatever you put in it as expected. However if you speak the right command word before it’s opened,
it instead accesses a secret, extra-dimensional space that
can hold several hundred pounds of gear. It’s yours
to use on this trip and should help smuggle most of
your gear through Okeno. The forged paperwork we’re
sending with you notes the chest is part of the shipment.”
Valsin demonstrates the chest’s use and command word.
“Anything else you want to bring needs to be something
you can hide on your person and keep hidden.”
Lady Darchana nods her approval and adds,
“I can also shrink one essential tool or weapon for each of you. It
should provide you enough of an edge in breaking out
and recovering the rest of your gear.”
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"What is this a traveling zoo?”
Eadies response is wholly innocent but may come across as somewhat brusque. “You haven’t had much to do with the Pathfinder Society have you, Lady Darchana? This is NOTHING compared to groups with multiple summoners, cavaliers, witches or druids.”
“I can also shrink one essential tool or weapon for each of you.”
“Do you mean like a falchion?” Eadie ponders the potential of this capability … it takes a while. “Could it be shrunk small enough to fit behind my ear? My ears can store a lot of stuff.”
She explains. “When I was little, one of Aunt Alix’s friends – an older priest at the Golden Vault, would often make copper pinches disappear and then pull them out of my ear. But when I tried – I only got earwax. It was kinda gross.”
Lady Darchana replies to Eadies comment.
"Oh my dear, I would not go as far as to call your group 'nothing' compared to other groups of Pathfinders. Ambrose holds you in high regard. But we we can all aspire to improve and this is just the type of mission to shine. If you wish, hand me the falchion."
She will cast the spell to reduce the blade and any other item offered by each member.
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Eadie allows Lady Darchana to drop the shrunken blade into her cupped hands. She then pinches its hilt between right thumb and forefinger, before holding the miniature weapon up to her eyes.
Her mouth hangs open as she rotates the tiny blade one way then the other before exclaiming. “It looks just like my falchion – only smaller!”
"If I'm going to be the slavemaster …"
Wide-eyed, Eadie asks nervously. “Are you going to beat us if we misbehave, Lore?”
Regarding Lore's question on her gear posing as a slavemaster, Darchana
remarks, “We only know a little about the potential slavemasters. Since we know prior slaves have been prepared for use
as scrying targets, we deemed it would be unwise to risk tipping off our
enemies before we’re even within striking distance. Even
those we have questioned under guarded circumstances
have done little beyond confirm what we already know.”
Ambrus Valsin adds, “We do have a detailed report from
Rilla, a Pathfinder who spent some time as a prisoner of
our enemies. Rilla remembers being separated from the
other Pathfinders while in Katapesh, taken to Okeno, then
marched inland to a little fort with a lot of gnolls.
The gnolls deferred to a humanoid woman who
always wore a heavy veil that concealed her head
and face. At least once, the veiled woman used
surgical tools to take some of Rilla’s blood.
Rilla vaguely recalls lessons on how to serve
multi-course meals and help nobles into
and out of fancy clothes. When the veiled
woman was satisfied with Rilla’s progress,
the gnolls marched her and several other
slaves back to Okeno and put her on a ship
bound for Absalom called the Kat Season.
“The gnolls tend to nap or just
relax during the day, trying to avoid
being given chores. At night, they’re
more active and alert, and usually
several of them leave the fort to go
hunting. Rilla wished she could
help us more, but her memory of
the last few months is hazy. We
found and removed a curse placed
on her to weaken her resistance
to divination, which may also
explain this memory issue.”
"If there are no more questions you have a couple hours
to prepare before you depart. Be back here in two hours.
A fellow agent will lead you
into the Coins district, where a slave
trader named Mahjub Mahdi work your transport to Stonespine Island.
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After dumping all of her gear apart from the miniature falchion in the cedar chest of holding, Eadie gives VC Valsin a sincere “Thanks!” before taking off to go shopping in the Grand Bazaar. She returns wearing worn white cotton áo bà ba, a conical nón lá hat and Brevoy leather peasant sandals. Over the top of her loose-fitting Tian-Dan pyjamas she wears an old ale cask – brown with age – that has been fitted with broad leather straps that fit over her shoulders.
Eadie has asked the cooper to use a branding iron to emblazon the word UNCLEAN in Taldane on the front and back of the barrel. As Eadie removes her woven leaf hat, you see she has had her hair cropped severely and unevenly, as if she was prepared recently for delousing.
Her shoulders are slumped and her plain features wear a blank expression.
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Ernest will have his 10gp miniature shovel shrunken for easy access Pit spell power. All other gear that aren't animals, his mostly unused spear, and the big camping tent will be chest'd.
He, however, continues to look worried. "Uh, how long are we going to be, uh, on-site? I kinda need my headband to be on for a day if anyone needs me to do magic traps. Or even really notice anything."
He looks to the animal companion, then to the pretend slaver headmistress. "I don't need Snouts around for any casting purpose, but I don't want to leave him behind; I think he'll eat my couch if I leave him alone. Could, uh, did you want to watch him? The, uh, glasses aren't prescription; he doesn't need them if you want some other disguise for him." He looks over the pig after undisguising him, "I mean, you could put tusks on him or something to be more boar-like; he is as big as you or just pretend like he's one of those showpigs-"
"Ech, wait! I didn't mean to say you're fat like a pig! You're not like a pig in any way! Except the generalities of non-outsider creatures in that you have to eat, breathe, and sleep. But not, uh, in a pig-like manner. You're totally not-big at all. Ah-but not in an 'offensive to small people' kind-of-way. You're adequately-sized for a gnome female. Ack! I'm not trying to be sexist, weightist, and racist! I'm totally not thinking about you like that! Ech- Not that that's impossible and I'm saying you're hideous or something, but I'm, uh, um, uh... I'm not."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Ignactius takes a moment to consider his options. "Well, I would like to keep my holy symbol. It's wooden, so it shouldn't pose too much of a problem. Eadie, let's stick close - I have some spells that could help you be more effective in combat, should it come to that while we pose as slaves."
The inquisitor then excuses himself to change into grubby slave clothes, placing his gear in the magical mystery box.
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Johender regards Eadie for a moment, then hands her a peanut. "Name's Johender, and this guy is Schooner. Pleased ta' meet ya, Eadie."
Johnder throws all his gear into the magic chest. "I'm guessin' I ain't needin' no disguise. Probable enough, I look like some wretch twas' found sleeping off a night's crousin' and got picked off."
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Eadie closes an eye as she thinks before blurting out, “Is that because you were some wretch sleepin’ off a night’s carousin’, Johendar?”
“Schooner’s a good name! Like a little sailboat, yeah? Oh, but I also like Professor X, Ernest.”
Eadie finds an open-ended hem in one of the inside folds of her pyjamas and slides her falchion into it. “Oh yeah. Watching each other’s backs sounds like a plan, Iggy.”
“Hey, you know how you mentioned the ‘sword that shines in darkness’ while we were on Terror Island, Ignatius? Well, I’ve been thinking maybe I could name my falchion something cool.”
She pauses to try and build the drama. “What do you think of the names ‘Bigger than a Butter Knife’ or ‘Death can be Fatal?’”
Ambrus tells you as far as disguises go, if you plan to pose as slaves you need to remove or hide you gear and don cheap tunics or loincloths. To complete the outfit, you must also don a slave collar, a metal band outfitted with a keyed lock. The collars must remain strong enough to pass casual inspection, but you can attempt to rig a collar when to open without needing tools or keys.
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"Locks are pretty easy. Not as easy as traps, but, uh, yeah. Then if nobody can do it for me, I can just be locked up normally. It's what Mother said they'd do to me if I talk to girls anyways, so I should maybe start getting used to it."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Snouts doth protest too much.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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He responds to his familiar in Taldane, this time remembering it can understand him normally. "Yeah, but your tiny pig arms are adorable and useless for that. Remember that time with the Spaghetti Trap?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"sounds like we could have a couple of slave masters... so not all of you need pose as slaves... I wouldn't mind company," Lore says with a little grin. She makes sure her tunic completely covers her symbol of Sarenrae, which isn't necessarily the symbol of a slave-freeing organization, but they aren't known as slavers either.
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“Maybe August would like to be a slaver, Lore.”
Eadie takes up the slave collar. "Joh or Ernest, if you could do the honors please?"
"It's what Mother said they'd do to me if I talk to girls anyways ..."
Is he for real?
“Why would you think you’d get locked up for talking to girls? We don’t bite. Well most of us don’t, do we Lore.”