Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir inclines his head in welcome as he opens the door and welcomes everyone into a modest office. “I’m glad you are on time—and with little to spare,” he says as he checks outside and then closes the door. “Your ship leaves soon, and I’ve taken care of the details.” He places a neat stack of travel papers on the small desk and sits down.
“I’m pleased that you volunteered to visit the remote monastery of Tar Kuata on the Society’s behalf. As you may already know, the Society seeks pieces of the Sky Key, a strange relic broken into multiple pieces by dwarves long ago. It seems one of the descendants may have found her way to Tar Kuata, and we believe the Ouat monks that also reside there still have a piece of the key. Travel there, meet with them, confirm our intelligence, and barter for the relic as needed. Do aim to be respectful; few Pathfinders have traveled to Tar Kuata, so you’ll need to earn the monks’ goodwill and perhaps even pave the way for future collaboration."
“To that end, I am sending you with this.” Balentiir lifts a heavy bag and adds it to the desk. “You may be familiar with bags able to hold more than seems possible, and this one is filled with grain. I understand Tar Kuata has had a poor harvest this year, and this should help you get off on the right foot in negotiations. Any questions?”
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"I got a sent a job missive so I showed up. Grain? If you mean hops and barley, this'll be fun." Rayne is a devilishly handsome Chelish man, roughly 2 decades old. His dark flowing locks reach to his chest where you can see a hint of a well made chainshirt underneath his clothing. His bow seems almost brand new and custom made and has the initials "R.D" carved into it. His five-o-clock shadow just enhances his rugged good looks.
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Despite his numerous scars and other disfigurements there is a certain air of majesty about him.
Benevolence raises a hand revealing several missing fingers as introduces himself in a gravely voice.
"Fellow Pathfinders, you need not be disturbed by my presence. I am a Wealth Mage of Abadar and practice what is now the lost art of Generosity Magic."
Benevolence goes back to leaning on his staff. "I might as well get my story out of the way, I'm sure you're wondering... 2 years ago now, Pathfinders, much like yourselves found and rescued me from Krune's lair. Exactly how long I had laid there in stone, being food for his hideous servant Kurushu I do not know."
Benevolence winces a bit as though having painful memories before continuing.
"Much of my memory of ages past I have forgotten, stolen from me by Lisalla's Herald, yet the pieces I do remember have proven invaluable to the society, so they offered me a field commission and I am proud to serve along side you."
Benevolence responds "Thank you Venture-Captain Balentiir for your trust in this matter. What else do we know about Tar Kuata, it is in Thuvia correct? Anything to do with the Sun Orchid Elixir?"
The Venture-Captain shakes his head. "No, nothing to do with the Sun Orchid Elixir. Gods willing, that business is done until next year."
"Tar Kuata is an isolated monastery village in the Barrier Wall Mountains, in a region commonly called the Footprints of Rovagug. It’s also considered the most important Iroran site in all Osirion", he adds as an answer to Mrachni's request. "That grain is intended as a gift for all of Tar Kuata but specifically you need to impress the Ouat monks. They are a contemplative order of dwarven monks who renounced their racial identity to focus on self-perfection. Technically, they are distinct from the other monks in Tar Kuata, but the two groups work together so closely that it’s hard to tell the difference.”
"I'm afraid I can't say specficially but it is called 'The Footprints of Rovagug'. Take that as you will. Also, merchants have been refusing to travel into the area as of late. The most recent two caravans to return from there were both attacked by bandits."
After a tiring but uneventful week-long journey, the party reaches Tar Kuata on the following morning.
At the base of a high mountain valley, the monastery of Tar Kuata perches atop a rocky outcropping that overlooks a tiny village and terraced fields. The steep cliffs to either side shelter the small structures from the wind, and a tall, thin spire towers over the settlement.
Once the party gets closer they're greeted by a young dwarven woman with a cleanly shaved head clad in colorful robes. She bows respectfully and beckons for them to follow.
"Greetings Pathfinders. I am Menkha Helg, leader of the Ouat monks. I hope your trip was safe? Please follow me into the Hall of Aspirants", she says with a gesture toward a worked cavern.
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During the questioning period, a knock on the door can be heard and an aide opens it and in steps a woman in full plate, a shield and longsword hang off her back and hip respectively.
"Pardon the interruption, Venture Captain, it appears your last Pathfinder was sick and I've been tasked to take their place. I am Seelah, paladin of Iomedae. I am sure these fine Pathfinders can fill me in on the trip, no need to delay with another briefing." she says formally.
Seelah bows respectfully to the monk and follows the rest of the group..
Menkha leads the party through an immaculate but sparsely decorated stone hall. At the end the hall opens up to the outside and the monastery is visible on the rocky cliffs above and the village that supports it down in the valley below.
”I am glad to hear that your trip was without peril. As honored guests you are welcome to explore the village. If it does not offend, why is it that you have chosen now to visit us?”
"Oh?"
Menkha takes the offered magic bag and peers within. "This is quite the gift. Your charity will not go unnoticed Pathfinders."
"You are very kind", the young dwarf says with a slight bow.
With admiration replacing her casual courtersy, Menkha gestures toward the village. "If it is information your Society seeks you will have to speak with Master Itephta. He is busy at the moment but I will arrange for you to have lunch with him. In the meantime, enjoy the peace and beauty of our simple life. I will summon you when lunch is served."
As the party descends into the village proper, Menhkha watches from a distance. She seems to be weighing the party's character through their interactions with the villagers.
A couple hours later a bell chimes from the monastery above and the villagers quietly break to enjoy their afternoon meal.
Menkha is waiting for the party at the monastery gates and after a short bow welcomes them inside. ”Please follow me. Lunch is served.”
The party is brought to a modestly appointed hall where a heavy well-worn table is set for lunch. Small bowls of steaming rice are arrayed along the table’s edge and platters of steamed fish and bright green vegetables run up its center. Long stone benches run parallel to the dining table but at its head a garundi man sits.
”Welcome Pathfinders. I am Itephta”, he says. ”You must famished after your long journey. Please, sit and sup. Tell me what it is that has brought you to our humble monastery.”
Without being asked, Menkha serves everyone present cups of fragrant tea from an earthen pot.
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Seelah smells the tea and raises an eyebrow to Benevolence. Sitting the tea down, Seelah clears her throat.
"First, we are here to provide a pathway to more cooperation between the Pathfinder Society and Tar Kauta. We believe that relationship would be a benefit to both parties. We also hear rumors that a piece of the Sky Key may reside here and the society is gathering the pieces together and would like to see what it might take to acquire the piece." Seelah says.
Seelah recognizes it as a common herbal tea with notes of sweet apple.
Itephta and Menhka share a knowing glance but remain silent. Several minutes later, the monastery's master answers the paladin's request.
“You seek something we would give freely, but the relic is one heavy with the weight of history. Just as I would not ask a neophyte to lift a boulder before he can lift a stone, I cannot in good conscience burden you with this bauble without knowing your capabilities."
“When our students request greater responsibilities or greater challenges, we first ensure that they have mastered what they have learned before. I propose you experience the same courtesy I would extend to a student by undergoing a small portion of our training. It shall strengthen your body for the return journey and prepare your mind to weather your future trials.”
”I am pleased to hear it”, Itephta says. ”Once we have finished our meals I will summon Aeotsep so you may begin.”
Some time later, once the party’s had their fill, Menkhal clears the hall and the monastery’s master departs. A few minutes after, an aged Garundi man with sun-weathered featured wearing a rough-spun brown robe enters. He greets the party with a warm smile and a creaking bow but well-practiced bow.
”Greetings Pathfinders. I am Aeotsep and I am a teacher and I assist Itephta evaluating the initiates. If you’re ready, I’ll be escorting you to your first trial.”
Aeotsep leads the party to a nearby of the study rooms, which contains several bookshelves, a small table, and a lectern on which there is an open copy of a heavy tome titled ‘Unbinding the Fetters’, the principle holy text of the Iroran faith.
The elderly monk bows again. ”Please wait here while I prepare your trial”, he says before turning around and leaving the party to their own devices.
Almost half an hour later, Aeotsep returns.
”I apologize for the delay”, he says. ”But while I was preparing I got delayed thinking about what it is to truly prepare…”
He goes on to describe several complex and subtle metaphors that compare stages of self-perfection to the creation of the world and comparing mortal knowledge to a spark of divinity that spins
order out of chaos. Smiling slightly, he looks to the party to describe their own thoughts on the topic. Fortunately just such a thing was described in relative detail within the holy text.
The elderly monk frowns as Rayne stares at him awkwardly and then quotes from a Absalom tabloid instead of the intended religious text but the rest of the party impresses him with their knowledge and insightful comments. He strokes his wrinkled chin in thought. ” The universe is a series of calculated reactions and despite all appearances, nothing happens by random chance. At all times one should consider his environment and seek out hidden truths. It’s in these truths that true wisdom lies.”
To Rayne his words sounds like ascetic gibberish but to the rest of the party they find deeper meaning.
Aeotsep leads the part into another chamber decorated with a small wooden placard where the words ‘Hall of the Inward Gaze’ are etched. The room is unoccupied besides the party and their guide but littered with several broad reed mats, racks holding wooden weapons, and a pile of small wooden boards.
Physical might is often mistaken for brute force. Strength without control accomplishes little”, the old monk says. To illustrate the point, Aeotsep takes a wooden board from the pile and outstretches his arm, holding the board in front of his face. With a swift movement, he releases the plank and strikes it in mid-air with his palm, breaking the board into two symmetrical halves.
”Show me that you understand the difference.”