You are in the city of Korvosa in southeastern Varisia, a land just north of Nidal. There, you are to meet Venture-Captain Sir Canayven Heidmarch in a run-down shop in Thief Camp, an informal district just outside the city itself. You head there now with your fellow agents.
“The Blakroses are among the oldest and most influential families in Absalom,” Venture-Captain Canayven Heidmarch begins, wasting no time. “We’ve built a good relationship with them, but in doing so we’ve inherited a few of their enemies, namely a shadowy group of power-mongers who call themselves the Onyx Alliance. The Blakroses recently contacted the Society with intelligence about the Onyx Alliance’s movements, and it seems they’re set on breaking into a particularly ancient barrow mound in northern Nidal. Normally, we wouldn’t worry too much about amateur tomb robbers in such a dangerous area, but apparently they’re prepared to recover a potent relic from inside. They’ve some plot to use whatever this ancient talisman is against that Blakros family—and probably against us as well.
“It’s rare that we get a promising lead in Nidal, and the prospect of earning more good will with the Blakroses is even better. The barrows are thought to contain graves dating all the way back to the Age of Darkness, and the Society has very little information about the mysterious ‘horselord’ ancestors of the modern Nidalese people.
“Luckily we have contacts within the Whispered Song, a group of Desna worshipers who work against the local government in Nidal. Agents of the Whispered Song have been tracking the Onyx Alliance, and believe these grave robbers are close to discovering the entrance of a tomb they call the Cairn of Shadows. If we move quickly, we should be able to get you into Nidal and in touch with the Whispered Song in time to catch up with the Onyx Alliance and prevent them from acquiring this relic. And if you can learn something about the ancient tribal people of Nidal in the process, so much the better.”
Canayven leans in, his expression becoming even more serious. “Nidal is a perilous destination and one where we’re not welcome. I don’t mind some subtle heroics, but I’d refrain from any particularly overt displays of gallantry if you want to come back alive. If you attract too much attention in Nidal, there’s no chance we’ll be able to help if you’re captured, or worse.
“I know a member of the Whispered Song who frequents the Broken Cup, a rather morose tavern in Nisroch. He should know how to lead you to where in the Onyx Alliance is searching for the Cairn of Shadows. He’s also prepared to help you avoid tangling with the local authorities. I can get you on a ship there in an hour, after which I leave you to meet with him with all haste. From there, I’m trusting your resourcefulness. Explore, report, cooperate, and secure whatever treasure the Onyx Alliance is after. The risk is significant, but so is the danger if the Onyx Alliance acquires what they’re looking for.”
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”A return to Nidal, Blakroses in the mix, another fight with the Onyx Alliance, and a secret order of worshippers of my Lady Desna? This is a mission I am well suited for indeed!” Terrill says with a grin as he looks around the room at his fellow Pathfinders, nodding to those he knows. Terrill is a half-elf, a touch on the short side for his race, though his arms and shoulders are corded with muscle. He wears a beautifully crafted breastplate of blackened steel, and a pair of graceful curving blades runs across his back, their hafts rising above his right shoulder, while a stout, black bow can be seen over his left. He is fairly young, but serious and intent in his demeanor, with crudely cut dark hair reaching his shoulders.
”I’ve made my way quietly into Nidal before,” he continues, ”as has Bizzle here. I’m used to going unnoticed in the service of Desna, and I can think of few better places to do that than Nidal, where there is so much ill to be undone.”
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"Oh, I attended a wedding ceremony between a member of the Blakros family and some other powerful old family... but I don't remember the details after we had to fight some nasty demons that tried to disrupt the festivities..." Maaarv wonders aloud. He remembers some details, but nothing terribly useful.
Maaarv is largely distracted by the two fleshy wings protruding from between his shoulder blades. "Ah yes... I seem to have grown some rather unusual appendages. I was trying to develop an extract from common bats that would provide the imbiber with the same echolocation abilities of the common chiroptera - as a protection against blindness. Alas, I have instead sprouted bat-like wings. But they work pretty well!"
The wings are folded up, but impossible to miss.
"Yes, we shouldn't delay." Maaarv turns to Canayven, "What is the name of our contact that we are to meet?"
"What is the name of our contact that we are to meet?"
"His name is Golbrier Frosh. A skittish sort of man, but given that he works for Desna in the joy-hating nation of Nidal, his bravery cannot be questioned. I'm sure he will be happy to meet Terrill. Well, all of you, really."
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Your voyage to Nisroch proves fortuitously uneventful, and the ship docks in the evening at the Portside district after the captain pays a considerable harbor fee. The city is a dreary place constructed of wood and slate, and one of the region’s common downpours makes it feel even more oppressive. You can easily find their way to the Broken Cup, a tavern in the Southbank district that caters to common folk.
There is nothing bright or cheerful about the Broken Cup. The walls are worn gray and the furniture drab brown. There are few lights, the brightest sitting by the stairs that presumable lead to rooms upstairs. There is no singing, no laughter, and no real sign that the tavern even welcomes new customers. Those who linger here mostly mind their food and themselves, going out of their ways not to make eye contact.
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Terrill looks around the bar, realizing he doesn't know what Golbrier Frosh looks like, but hoping he can spot a fellow Desnan.
If he's unable to spot him, he'll approach the bar, lay a few silvers on the counter, and say, "Good afternoon to ya. I'm hoping you can help me with a couple of things. First off, I'd like a pint of something, an amber if you've got it. And second, I'm looking to find a fellow named Frosh, you know him?"
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As he steps into the Broken Cup, Maaarv's wings twitter a little bit in anticipation. "Feeling a bit peckish, myself..." he mutters to himself. He let's Terrill and any other ask around all they want, but Maaarv knows he's not so good with people.
Maaaarv approaches the bar and sits. "What's on the menu - any pot roast, perchance?" he asks whoever is tending bar.
"Oh, if you've got whiskey, I'll take some. Neat."
As Maaarv waits for his food, he scans the tavern looking for someone that could be a Desnan - possibly wearing or bearing her symbol.
The bartender takes everyone's orders but tells you he has never heard of the man before.
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Terrill notices the woman quietly celebrating by herself. He gives a subtle nod to his fellow Pathfinders, indicating her and quietly saying, "Let's make a new friend" to Hailey. He then moves over to listen in on what the boasting woman has to say, sitting down near her and letting her boast to him all she wants, nodding along interestedly.
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Hailey nods at Terril as she moves with him saying a quick prayer (casting guidance) as she moves.
"You seem to be in a good mood. Me and my friend over here could do with a good story after they day we've been having..you know what..we'll buy you a drink if your story is good enough to entertain us enough to make us forget about the long day we've had. Do we have a deal?"
(using guidance)
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Maaarv breathes in deep through his nose - taking in the aroma of the stew placed before him on the bar. "Thanks," he says before swirling a spoon through the broth and taking a heaping bite. "Venison? Nice..."
The alchemist shovels the food into his mouth, but he is still able to hear the loud woman bragging about her exploits. "Eh, looks like the others are going over and chatting her up, no sense in me abandoning this fine meal," he thinks to himself.
The woman turns with a smile as the party approaches eager to hear her good news. "Sure. The name's Alya. Just enjoying a well-earned drink after a hard chase, you know? Been chasing this Desnan bastard across the countryside for some time and finally roped him in. The Umbral Court has wanted him for a while and put a bounty on his head recently, only I was the first to get him. Should be getting paid soon, and that's always a reason to celebrate, eh?" She takes another swig of ale and smiles at you.
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"Getting paid is always a good reason to celebrate" says Hailey with a smile.
Hailey orders the drink she promised Alya
"Please, tell us some more about the chase you did to get to the Desnan bastard you mentioned, where did the chase lead you? And you mentioned you roped him in..but you already delivered him without getting paid?"
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"I apologize for my tardiness.", quips the pale-skinned aasimar as he walks into the establishment.
"My time at the library to prepare for this locale has kept me."
A glint of silvery armor hides under the pale gray robes, holy symbol of Pharasma stitched into the rough linens.
In a soft voice, the aasimar introduces himself with a simple bow, using a staff to support him. "I am Cadaeacus, Protector of Knowledge and Lore for the Lady of the Graves."
Taking out some parchment and a pen, the man starts scribbling descriptions of everyone, pausing to ask, "So tell me... what is the name of this 'Desnan bastard'?", Cadaeacus chronicling the details of the conversation.
"Please, tell us some more about the chase you did to get to the Desnan bastard you mentioned, where did the chase lead you? And you mentioned you roped him in..but you already delivered him without getting paid?"
She flicks her hair back, "Nah, nah, I get paid when I hand him over. The Court put a bounty on him a while ago and he's been in hiding, I suppose. No one had seen him at least. I rooted him out of an abandoned cellar and he came with me quick enough!"
"Sounds like a hell of a chase! Did the Court want him for anything besides the god he worshipped? I'd guess his sort get up to all kinds of mischief."
"Ha! Yeah, damn Desnans. He was prattling on about his faith, trying to spread his faith about the place and that's something the Umbral Court looks down on, of course."
"So tell me... what is the name of this 'Desnan bastard'?", Cadaeacus chronicling the details of the conversation.
"Golbrier Frosh, I'm sure you heard about the price on his head. Unless you're newcomers? You certainly look like travelers."
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"Hmmm," mutters Terrill, a fierce grin crossing his face, "if you've still got him, I'd love to take a look at the fellow, maybe get a few licks in before you hand him over." He gives the woman a comradely buff on the shoulder, saying, "You could tell us all about the capture, right in front of the poor fool's eyes!"
Alya gives Terrill a suspicious look. "I've got him safe and secured and I'm not dumb enough to go shouting out where I've got him in a public place like this to people I've just met."
Alya recommends the Dark Lord's Ale and orders more for herself. "No, Golbrier came pretty quietly once he that I had him cornered."