Pathfinder Society - First Steps - Maptools
In off the Street
You come in off the street, pausing long enough to wipe your feet on a horse hair mat just inside the doorway. The cramped office had only a bird dropping encrusted placard labeling it as the local field office of the Pathfinder Society. Your initial assessment of the dark office leaves you less then impressed. You’ve heard stories of great explorers and adventurers traveling across Golarion in search of knowledge, treasure, and fame…but this place reminds you more of an old used bookstore then a bastion of heroes and adventure. Still…you came this far.
As your eye adjust to the dim light, you see piles of old, musty books and racks of moth gnawed scrolls along the wall. A single desk with an old ratty chair sits in the middle of the mountain of paper. An old dwarf wearing a monocle appears to be busily poring through a particularly large tome with particularly small print when he finally catches notice of you.
“We don’t want any and I haven’t got any money anyway”, he casually waves you away without looking up from his book.
You clear your throat…
“I said….”, he looks up, staring at you and squinting, as if trying to read your intentions on your face. After a few moments, he perks up.
“Oh…” He stands up from his desk with his hand supporting his back. His face betrays the heroic effort he exerts, as he slowly slides out from behind his desk and walks closer to you. He leans on a short walking stick for support as he walks over to get the full measure of you.
“No, I suppose you aren’t here to sell me sardines or moldy onions are you. You don’t smell nearly bad enough nor are your fingernails dirty enough. You have the look about you of someone who seeks adventure and treasure am I right! Become a Pathfinder Agent and see the world!” He makes grandoise gestures with his hands. “Want to make a name for yourself eh?”
He looks into your eyes and sharply pokes your shoulder with his short walking stick. “Paaah, I bet you don’t know the first thing about history, the Society, or why Golarion is the fouled up place it is today.”
The surly dwarf hobbles back to a piles of books and pulls out a small volume from the middle of the stacks without even glancing at it. He thumps it square into your chest.
“Here, read this. If you’re still here when I close, then we’ll talk.”