After years of exhausting training, time has finally come for your first mission. Your mentors back at your lodge of origin gave you the last advices before saying goodbye to you. With your first mission comes the true beginning of your Pathfinder carreer—one that involves leaving mentors, friends and peers behind. A Pathfinder’s always on the Open Road, someone said to you in the past. Only now you can really understand why as he or she said that, there was a slight trace of pain in his or her words. A Pathfinder, unless until he does not gain enough fame and respect to be appointed Venture Captain, cannot afford to forge emotional attachments, since his life implies traveling very frequently. The whole world is a Pathfinder’s homeland”, someone else said you in the past. Only now you can truly understand that calling the whole world home it’s both being at home everywhere and nowhere. Unless you find some true friends as adventuring companions.
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You were informed that your first mission would take place in Cassomir, Taldor. Cassomir is located at the mouth of the Sellen River, and is the second largest settlement in the empire of Taldor. It acts as a major trade city, and through its ports enter goods from the Inner Sea, as well as from nations to the north that utilize the Sellen as a trade route. Cassomir is also home to the greatest of Taldor's imperial shipyards, even though the majority of the fleet itself is stationed in Oppara.
Once there, you have been instructed to reach the small Cassomiri Pathfinder lodge located in Threegates.
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Depending on your region of origin, you had to make a long or short journey in order to reach Cassomir, but you eventually managed to reach your destination.
Cassomir is surrounded by the Blackwood Swamp on all landward sides.
The quiet agricultural town of Hope's Hollow lies an hour's ride along the eastern road, through the Blackwood Swamp.
Cassomir is the home of the Imperial Naval Shipyards, and lumber from the Verduran Forest to the north is transported down the river in order to fuel Taldor's naval production. It also acts as a major trade city, bringing in goods from both the Inner Sea region and inland nations to the north such as the Five Kings Mountains, Razmiran, Kyonin, the River Kingdoms, and Galt as generating additional wealth by taxing any vessels seeking access to the Sellen River itself.
Cassomir is also known for its blackwood-derived tar, a substance typically used to waterproof ships and wood roofs. The blackwood tar has a pleasant, sweet odor and the tar factories of the Imperial Shipyards often smell eerily like candy.
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You have finally arrived. Even those unfamiliar with navies or sailing immediately recognize that Cassomir’s main trade is shipbuilding. The skeletal hulks of partially built ships line the harbors, forming an uneven horizon as the rest of the city arcs around the harborage. This is Cassomir’s first sight for those of you who reached Cassomir via sea travel.
Built on land reclaimed from the surrounding swamp, the river city smells wet and always feels busy.
Threegates is a small district of perfectly aligned streets, romantic brick row houses, tree-lined avenues, and small but beautiful parks garners its name from its location between the main gates of the city and the two main gates of Old Cassomir. Abbey Green borders Threegates on the south, while to the west lie the ramparts of Old Cassomir, and to the east the city’s brackish moat and Blackwood Swamp.
With the map given to you from your lodge of origin, you quickly reach the building marked as the Pathfinder Society lodge in Cassomir on your map. From the outside, this two-story building seems in all respects similar to the surrounding houses.
When you decide to knock on the door, an aging maid lets you in with a polite smile. Upon entering the house, you find yourselves in a warm parlor with several leather sofas and a few darkwood tray tables. Exotic carpets cover the ground and beautiful paintings of ships and storms hang on the wall. The room’s perimeter is almost entirely occupied by robust wooden bookshelves filled with tomes ancient and recent. There’s a distinctive smell of incense in the room.
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From a small ship recently docked, a short man emerges, dressed in plain and dark clothes. Though his outfit is not very different from the one most peasants would use in Taldor, he carries it with a certain dignity and pride. On his right arm, a worn out band bears a crude insignia of a red tree over an arrow; on his belt, there is an equally old and frayed small book. From the faded letters on its cover, one can make out the title On government.
Looking around the harbour from the vantage point of the shop, the young man takes a deep breath: he somehow already misses Galt dearly, and yet being outside its grasp, away from the constant furore of the endless revolution and, most importantly, from the memories of bloodshed, gives him some much needed relief. The sweet scent of blackwood tar pleasantly fills his nostrils.
As he walks from the harbour to the lodge, he smiles bitterly: 'To think a few months ago I would have stopped these people on their tracks to spread the word of the coming revolution.' Quickly shoving those thoughts aside, he takes the city in, excitedly hipnotised by what was most likely a common day in Taldor: 'Then again, a few months ago I wouldn't have imagined I would be setting foot on imperial Cassomir.'
He finally arrives at what is indicated on his map as the Society lodge. Once in the empty parlour, he puts down his backpack and moves towards the bookshelves, but quickly changes his mind and instead stands in front of the painting of a storm. A few moments after, he hears the front door opening.
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Eager to depart the Jenivere, the blotchy-skinned half-elf fairly leaps down the gangplank. In a few scant days of sea travel, he has learned that is it not for him. Despite the apparent peace of the city, he is clad in armor made of many dull steel plates, which at a cursory glance seems cobbled together and hardly functional. Under this are loose breeches and a heavy bearskin tunic. At his belt lie two of his most used arms: A gleamingly polished flail and a large sap. He huddles a fur cloak closer around him in the chill, pulls a squashed fedora-like hat down over his forehead, and sets off.
Braving the crowded streets, he keeps his eyes straight forward, to force the masses to flow around him. His lack of maneuvering allows him time to think.
'There should be no problems making it to the Lodge. On the other hand, Forlorn did always say that in being a Pathfinder, one faces many unforeseen complications. Of course, he also said that he once shrunk himself, had an ally strap him to a firework, and shoot him through a church full of 'festrogs,' whatever those are. I've memorized the route to the Lodge, that's as much as I can do. Any problems unfortunate enough to arise, I will deal with at the time.'
While he has only been in one other city before, the gangly man appears to have a knack for navigation, in the wilds or in the midst of bustling civilization. As the throngs part before him, his only actions while walking are the occasional blink and to nervously wrap and unwrap a band on his neck, which sports a spiral in thick blue paint, facing away from his front.
Arriving at what he can only assume is the Lodge, he knocks five times, mainly out of habit. He bows his head and gives a warm grin to the woman letting him in. In the antechamber/parlor, he lays his pack and weapons in a neat pile and walks to a bookshelf, prizing out a book at random. He then makes a beeline for the most comfortable seat, not realizing until then he is not alone.
"Oh, hello," Dolgarth says cordially. "Are you here for the mission, too? Is it your first? But wait, where are my manners? My name is Dolgarth. What's yours?"
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A slight woman disembarks from one of the many merchant ships berthed in the Cassomir docks, her slight stumble on the gangplank betraying the number of weeks spent at sea. Her dress is orthodox and conservative -- short red robes layered over long black ones -- the only ostentation the twin pentagrams swinging from long chains around her neck, one silver and one red. She clutches her satchel tightly as she walks the lawless streets to the Threearches District. "How many of the people on these streets are cutthroats and thieves?" she wonders. "With so many Andorens around, there must be dozens."
Once at the lodge, she follows the servant wordlessly into the parlor, where two men wait, one nondescript, the other a barbarian. They lack all regalia, and so clearly neither is the local captain, and must therefore be some of her fellow agents.
"I am Fiametta," she tells them. "From Kantaria. I look forward to working with you." She smiles, then walks over to one of the tables, and begins removing papers from her satchel.
She lines up documents in five neat stacks, double-checking that they are complete. "This is my first time in Taldor," she begins conversationally. "So far I'm underwhelmed. Have you been here before? Which are the safe districts?"
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A young Taldan man steps through the gate into Threegates, pausing for a moment to get his bearings. He’s tall, wide-shouldered and thin-waisted, and moves with a casual athleticism. His clothes are a mishmash of the stylish and the functional. A short, brown leather jacket—of one of the more recent styles to come out of Oppara—hangs open on his torso. Under it is a slightly-faded red shirt over rugged traveler’s pants, tucked into tough walking boots. All of it is decent quality, but all of it is wrinkled—as if he’s been sleeping in it. But at the same time, it all works together to make one eclectic look. He wears studded armor over his torso with the same casual ease he carries his weapons. A longsword hangs from his left hip, a dark-colored morningstar strapped to his right thigh, a whip coiled on his belt, and a longspear leaning casually across his shoulder.
He sets the butt of his longspear down and pulls the wide-brimmed hat from his head, revealing a headful of thick, untamable, wavy blond hair as he wipes sweat from his forehead wth the back of his sleeve. I need a drink to wash down this road dust, Jak thinks, taking in the view. Surely the VC won’t mind if I’m a few minute late, right?
He’s admiring Threegate’s trees and buildings when his eyes fall on a lovely young woman sweeping the front stoop of a shop. She’s near his age, maybe a few years over twenty, with a sweet face and plump in all the right places. She looks over. Their eyes meet; his blue to her brown. Jak’s reaction is instant and natural. He cracks a charming smile. A friendly smile that shows off his dimples and always gets one in return.
Then he’s thrown haphazardly forward as Norgy pushes him from behind. The mule—a nearly-black creature with a stark, white starbursty-splotch over one eye—impatiently headbutts him again, and Jak barely keeps his feet. He regains his balance, rounds on the creature, and yanks the leading cord to pull Norgy’s face close. ”I said that’s enough of that, Norgy,” he growls as he looks back at the girl … who’s now trying to hide her laughter.
Without missing a beat, he sweeps a bow, flourishing his hat and giving her a calculatedly-embarassed look and shrug as if to say, ’what are you gonna do?’ Then he gives her a wink and slaps his hat back on his head, hauling Norgy onward, towards the lodge.
Five minutes later, he’s tying Norgy to a hitching post outside the lodge, where he also leans his longspear. He pulls a letter from his pack, then adds the pack to that already on Norgy’s back before walking around to the mule’s head. He pulls its face close, forcing the animal to make eye contact.
”Now, what did we talk about? No hiding my stuff. I mean it this time, you crafty ass.” He yanks on Norgy’s cord for emphasis before patting Norgy on the head and walking inside.
He returns the maid’s polite smile with his own friendly one. The woman had kind eyes, even at her age. Then he follows her inside, where he meets those already assembled. He’s just in time to hear the the woman’s introduction. She was pretty enough. A bit buttoned-down, but sometimes they were the most excitable once you got them going.
”Oh, they’re all safe enough, if you keep your eyes open,” he responds with his usual grin, ”Plus, where’s the fun if there’s not a little bit of thrill involved?” He steps forward, removes his glove and extends a hand, ”I’m Jakwin Howell, but folks just call me Jak.” He gives a gesture that seems to take in the city around them, ”I’m from Oppara, but I’ve been out this way a few times. A city this size has lots of things to see.” He shrugs, his smile widening, ”Lots of taverns, too.”
He looks over at the fur-clad man and then over at the one who seems to be trying to fade into a painting of a storm. "Anyone have any idea what our assignment will be?"
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Nebraska was elated to receive her first assignment and finally get sent on her way. The past years of training and admiring the mysterious world through the stories of other travelers had long become insufficient. Her thirst for adventure demanded more and now she was to witness it all first hand.
Taking her favorite "side streets," the dark alleyways and rooftops that kept her out of view, Nebraska rushed to her shared Pathfinder owned apartment to pack her minuscule number of possessions. Though, before she could even take her first step onto to Katheer's dock district Nebraska was face-to-face with a runaway slave whom was hiding in a small passage. The woman was pregnant and pleaded Nebraska to help her flee Katheer before her child was born. It took only a moment to let the ticket and Nebraska's clean cloak pass between them.
'Venture Agent Klondike better not hear of this...' Nebraska mused with a wide smile as she slipped aboard a trading ship that was in quite poor health.
The days were long stowing away. The worst of it was not being able to stretch her legs. Once the ship was rounding through Star Bay she could see the city lights in the distance and ducked off as it passed near the coastline. After an easy swim to shore she had only a two day hike into the city.
'Taldor, it.. looks a bit like Qadira still..' She thought as she took it all in, but wasn't let down. They were neighbors after all, the next country would be different.
Her water fouled map made navigating the city more difficult than it should have been. After finding the place she cased it for a period of time.
'A Human, hmm and another Half-Elf..I wonder, do we need to hide our mixed blood up here as well?' Soon another human passes through the door, then another that seems to be able to talk to animals. Dropping silently into the street, Nebraska slipped through the door as it closed behind the man.
Nebraska pipes in quite calmly as if her entrance had been obvious. "I don't know, hands seem a little liberal around the butt area in the market." Nonchalantly a human looking half-elf leans against one of the bookshelves. She has blue hair that is hidden until she removes her dark brown, almost black, leather hood. The pretty face smiles at everyone with energy and a partially detached gaze. Her left wrist rests on the hilt of a rapier as her right hand combs out her obscure hair with its fingers. "I'm Nebraska! Up from Katheer. This is my first chance to travel actually, no idea what we're doing here though. From what I hear it should be dangerous!" Her focus briefly moves to a small snarl. "But what do I know, stories right?"
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The young human turns, startled at the suddenly bustling parlour. He moves towards Dolgarth as Fiametta enters: "Oh, I am sorry, Dolgarth, I was so lost in thoughts that I hadn't noticed you as well". He extends his right hand, looking the fur-clad man in the eye with intensity: "I am citizen Aldus K…" he clears his throat "sorry, Aldus the Supplicant, from Galt. Pleased to meet you! I am indeed here for my first mission as a Pathfinder."
As Nebraska and Jak enter, he greets them and Fiametta with the same strong handshake, burning eyes and earnest smile. After Jak has spoken, he combs his dark hair with his hands and says: "Jak is right, Fiametta: no district in Cassomir should pose much danger to any of us. As to the specifics of our mission, I am in the same page as Nebraska. The VC at Woodsedge was suspiciously silent, which I guess means we will all get some thrill. And if that's not enough I'm sure Jak will be happy to provide."
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"A pleasure to meet you, Aldus," Dolgarth remarks warmly, firmly returning the handshake. "It is my first mission too, though I have spent the requisite three years training at the Heidmarch Manor Lodge in Magnimar." He returns the book he had picked out to the shelf now that company is here, and when he turns there are several others. He bows his head in greeting to all, introducing himself as he does so, and shaking any proffered hands. "I, too, am in the dark regarding the specifics of this mission, but I can only assume there will be some risk. I had the good fortune to be mentored by a senior agent, with over twenty assignments under his belt, and one nugget of wisdom he has instilled unto me is that every task we do has an element of danger."
Dolgarth smiles and shakes his head at some of the more ridiculous memories of his mentor. He then rifles through the pile that is his equipment for his waterskin, takes a long draught, and continues. "So, friends, where are you from, what can you do? I'm sure it's always better the know to capabilities of one's allies before the time comes to call upon them."
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Fiametta watches the Pathfinders assemble, and squelches her initial reaction to their collective scruffiness. "This is what it means to be out in the field, Fi. The Paracountess explained that expertise and eccentricity often go hand-in-hand."
"Well, of course, Aldus. But you're from Galt...next to that the Varisian wildlands themselves would seem as safe as a Temple district." Fiametta smiled pleasantly. "I can protect myself, being a trained wizard with Egorian certification in three different areas. I'd just rather not have to, and I was concerned due to the distressingly few constables I saw on the streets. But I guess this is how it is outside of civilized countries."
She looks around the group and broadens her smile."So exciting," she emphasizes, as if to convince herself.
"Now you'll all be happy to know," she continues, "that I have taken the time to put together a contract for our upcoming Joint Venture as Pathfinder operatives. There's a copy here all ready for each of us." Fiametta's tone was businesslike. but a bubbliness had entered it that had previously been missing. "It's all very standard, and based on the principles of Absalom maritime law, which was practically designed for this kind of venture. I'd be happy to go through it all with you, but it really just stiplulates that we will all utilize our talents to our utmost for the good of the group, that each of us receive public recognition for our involvement (to the extent that the Pathfinder Society allows) and that all proceeds are shared equally. It also indemnifies me against any liability to the Pathfinder Society, or to the other partners or their next of kin for any mistakes made during our missions, with a clear exception for intentional malfeasance. Very straightforward."
Fiametta stops to remove a quill and bottle of ink from her pouch, and prepares them for use.
"I just can't tell you how excited I am to be working with all of you. This is exciting, right? And I also want to personally assure each and every one of you that in deference to my assumption that I would be the only orthodox Asmodean in the group," Fiametta looks around the room, hoping to be corrected on this point "that I have made absolutely certain that there are zero references in this contract to the Infernal Order, or involuntary servitude, or souls, or devils, or anything of the sort. I guarantee that this is a contract that would even be welcome in Andoran, if you can imagine."
Fiametta giggles nervously, then remembers that given there was a Galtan there might easily be an Andoren in the group. She swallows, then forces another smile. "So who wants to sign first? Or I can..."
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Nebraska returns pleasantries with those who offer them. At Fiametta's mention of being a Wizard she removes her own notebook and ink pen from a thin thigh pocket and begins writing. When Fietta is done Nebraska replies with her eyes on her pages, "I can read the contract in a moment, but you said wizardry correct? I'm not familiar with this Amadeus fellow but as long as your not an evil wizard we'll do lovely. In what schools were you trained again?" Nebraska continues to scribble, "I dabble in Arcane as well, but just as a hobby. I like to know how things work, be it magic, machines, the body, the mind, the world."
She then closes the journal and picks up a contract, reading through it closely.
"Is this really necessary? I thought the whole organization handled this stuff already."
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"The Pathfinder Society is a fabulous organization, Nebraska," Fiametta replies, "but surely you understand that all of their paperwork and the agreements you have with them are focused on protecting the Society itself, rather than their agents. As," she hastened to add, is only proper. If they were my client, I would advise them the same thing."
She blinks as she realizes she's lost the thread of her argument. "This contract is for our protection, so that no matter what might happen, we would still be connected by the sacred bonds of partnership."
"As for my training, I majored in Enchantment, but took sufficient coursework to also earn certification in Divination and Conjuration. Do you also keep a spellbook? I'd be happy to arrange for a spell exchange."
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Aldus takes a seat next to Dolgarth: "Before…becoming a pathfinder, I was part of the revolutionary guard, mostly due to having a certain gift for words. Defusing situations before they become violent, reaching fair agreements, keeping the morale high, things of that sort. And, in case all that does not work, I am skilled with a bow."
When Fiametta presents the contract, he thinks in jest 'Yes, sure, signing a contract with a Chelaxian devil worshipper, what could ever go wrong?' As soon as he has the chance, Aldus reads the contract attentively 'Read before you judge, as Hosetter used to say'.
After making sure that it corresponds to Fiametta's words, he thinks for a few minutes and returns her smile in kind: "Very nicely written and structured. I especially appreciate your taking care of removing any references to Asmodeus and the infernal order from the contract. Before we sign it, though, I think it would be wise to verify with our lodges of origin that there is no conflict between local law and the terms established in your contract. At least on my case, there were several clauses specific to the interests of the Revolution that I unfortunately lack the legal expertise to assess in relation to this separate agreement. I am sure you made all the checks that were in your power to do, but you can imagine that laws in Galt are still in a state of flux, just as I am sure that you have every wish that we follow the proper procedure here. 'Let us not throw caution to the wind, but follow carefully, decidedly, unmistakably, surely towards the best future we can build together' said the Poet once. What do you think? I can imagine that not many of us expected this, but I personally wouldn't want to outright refuse signing a document that seems to simply put into legal terms the trust we are all ready to mutually share. Even more so if it is a legitimate requirement to have one of us completely at ease.", the Galtan finishes, directing his question particularly towards the other people in the room.
Whilst he waits for a reply, Aldus politely addresses Fiametta again: "Oh, and allow me to add that it is good to know that we have legal expertise in the group, should the need arise. We cannot know what sort of challenge we will be facing in the near future."
All of a sudden, while the Pathfinders are still engaged in their conversation and discussing Fiammetta’s contract, the aging maid approaches the group and smiles politely as before. This time, though, there’s a clearer welcoming air to her smile. “Sorry to interrupt you, dear agents”, the woman chimes in with a voice as polite and kind as her smile, “but Venture-Captain Hestia Themis asked to see you” The woman then puts a hand on Fiammetta’s shoulder. “Hop, hop! Step aside girl” the maid says with the same tone that a caring mother would have used. As soon as Fiammetta does as requested, the maid bows down and starts to roll up one of the carpet.
“Hmpf”, the maid protests if no one helps her out. “They just don’t make gentlemen as they used to, isn’t it? Come on you lazy boys, lend this ol’ granny a hand”.
As soon as the heavy carpet has been pushed aside, you see a wooden trapdoor the carpet concealed. The man kneels down again and opens the trapdoor. “Down this way, my darlings”, says the maid with her polite smile.
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You descend the wooden ladder one after the other, arriving into an underground room with stone floor and walls. Much less finely furnished than the parlor above, this dark room’s only source of light is a brass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A blue and violet Qadiran carpet covers a portion of the floor, but it is too small for the room. On the northern side of the room, in front of you, is a majestic darkwood desk–shiny and clean, the table is meticulously organized. Behind the table, a single bookshelf hosts a good collection of Pathfinder Chronicles along with several other tomes of specific interest for a Pathfinder, such as Bestiaries, regional guides and so on. Between the table and the bookshelf stands a small, unassuming woman of Taldan heritage with dark hair and eyes, holding a large sheaf of papers in her small hands. A teenage boy is standing beside her. The lad nervously regards his surroundings and sweats profusely, his thick brown hair matted and wet against his head.
The woman clears her throat. Her booming voice, the antithesis of her stature, fills the underground room.
“Welcome to Cassomir, Pathfinders. Or aspiring Pathfinders, I should say, given that none of you are confirmed field agents. Anyway, I’m glad to have you here, and I hope your ready for your first official assignment from the Society. I’m Venture-Captain Hestia Themis, a pleasure to make your acquiescence.” The woman smirks and clears her throat again before ensuing.
“One of our own has been kidnapped. Pathfinder Cestis was taken just days ago from a relics auction in the Imperial Naval Shipyards, and we believe his disappearance to be related to the six dozen or so kidnappings of the last several months. Now that one of our own is missing, this has become a Society matter—something we’ll get to the bottom of.”
Themis gestures to the teenage boy standing beside her, who nervously regards his surroundings and sweats profusely, his thick brown hair matted and wet against his head. “This is Nefti, the assistant to the biggest thorn in my side in Cassomir—an agent of the Aspis Consortium named Kafar. Kafar is also missing, taken from the same relics auction along with Pathfinder Cestis and a dozen other citizens of Cassomir. Nefti was at the auction, saw where a small group of the kidnapped victims were taken, and his handlers in Cassomir have given us access to him so that he might guide us to our missing Pathfinder. If you happen to find Kafar...” Themis grinds her teeth. “Let him go, per the agreement I’ve just made with his superiors. Your priority is Cestis, and I think Nefti can lead you to him. Any questions?”
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Jak, clearly uneasy with the contract, is in the middle of coming up with an excuse when the maid saves him. ”Let’s just call it a gentleman’s contract, then,” he says warmly as the maid interrupts, and he’s happy to help lend a hand moving the rug, if only to have something to do other than stare at pages and pages of legal documentation.
He heads down, giving the VC’s office a curious glance around before finding a comfortable spot to lounge. ”Nice to meet you, Venture-Captain Themis.” And knowing it was likely unnecessary, but feeling like it’s the polite thing to do, he finishes. ”I’m Jakwin Howell.”
Then he lapses into silence as she begins her briefing.
As he considers the information, he can’t help but ask his own question. ”Who were the other kidnapping victims, other than Cestis and …” he cuts his eyes over at the boy, scowling a bit, ”Kafar.”
The he turns to the boy, trying to warm his tone. "Why you tell us what you saw and know?"
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Nebraska gives Fiametta a blank look for a moment, then remembers her journal in her hand and lets out a laugh. "Oh! No this is just for personal record keeping. I don't use a spell book, unless you count a few loose sheets of scrolls. I was never trained to have the touch, but in its place I have developed quite the knack at getting pre-established magic to express itself correctly."
As Aldus mentions revolution Nebraska is drawn in by intrigue. It is just as she begins to speak that the maid reappears. "Revolution. That sounds awfully exciting! I'd lov..." then she cuts herself off out of politeness.
Looking around the subterranian room Nebraska muses to herself aloud, "If you're lonely when you're alone then you're in bad company."
Nebraska gives a slight wave and a smile when the VC introduces herself, "Hi! Yours too! Nebraska Jones."
"Six dozen?! That is a lot of organized kidnappings in only a few months, what is the local guard's current role? I'm sure there's quite the public outcry." Nebraska reopens her journal and flips to a new page while she listen's to Jak's questions getting answered. She nods and produces more questions while making scribbles. "Hmm, so roughly 14 disappeared at the auction. How many nappers participated there? How were they dressed and equipped? Were the victims physically wrangled or under a type of magical influence? This place you're leading us to, what type of environment is it? Hmmm, and Captain Themis, I assume resolving the other 6 dozen missing persons cases is a priority as well?"
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"By all means," Fiametta says, "have your own people look this over. That's only common sense. Let me just sign each of your copies, and notate that they are out for review, and you can each sign at your leisure. Or present any proposed amendments."
Fiametta signs each packet methodically, only getting flustered as furniture is moved around her. She presses each packet into her partners' hands just as they each descend into the true meeting room. Then she makes a note to herself to brush up on Galtan law...what there was of it.
She listens to Venture-Captain Themis describe the situation and nods sagely. "I knew this was a lawless city, but that is a lot of kidnappings. What sort of ransom payment do you think we're looking at? Have they all taken place at the auctions, or is there anything else connecting the victims?"
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Dolgarth takes a copy of the contract to review at his leisure. 'Should be informative, a peek into the approaches of my allies. Besides, I like looking at legal documents, it provides some hope.'
The half-elf rolls his eyes and grins at the old woman, hopping off the carpet and hauling his gear away before assisting her. The rug is much heavier than he anticipated, perhaps to conceal the door. He marvels at the design of the tunnels and the underground room, yet still listens attentively. When the others are finished, he begins.
"What was the nature of the the items being auctioned? Kafar, I assume, we can turn over to Nefti, who will know what to do and where to go. And you, sir -" His gaze and voice abruptly shift to Nefti, but remain calm and friendly "- You were at the auction, I take it? If you were not kidnapped as well, perhaps their pattern is random. But then again, what appears random to us may be a structured stratagem on the part of our foes. Or maybe they expect us to come to this conclusion, and their plan is, in fact, random. But they could be expecting us to come to that conclusion, and..."
He then shakes his head vigorously before he starts to overthink. It wouldn't do on his first mission. "Bottom line, we do not know the plan of our shadowy opponents. If they are opponents of ours, or anyone's in particular at all. Once our concrete questions are answered, we should make haste to get to the bottom of this." He grins abashedly. "The best answers will be found in the heat of the matter."
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Aldus rushes to help the maid and gives a furtive and knowing look at Jak, as if to say "saved by the bell".
Once downstairs, he respectfully greets the Venture-Captain and remains silent during the initial briefing. Every once in a while, he looks at the boy and when their eyes cross he tries to sweeten his expression, aiming to calm Nefti.
He listens to his companions asking their questions and then intervenes: "Let's slow down a bit, Dolgarth. I think the first question here is 'why'? It seems difficult they are interested in a ransom when they have kidnapped dozens."
He then addresses Nefti: "I trust you have been well taken care of? Perhaps you would like to sit down? Don't worry, we mean you no harm. We are just very much interested in what you saw when your superior was taken away."
As he considers the information, he can’t help but ask his own question. ”Who were the other kidnapping victims, other than Cestis and …” he cuts his eyes over at the boy, scowling a bit, ”Kafar.”
“We don’t know their individual identities. The kidnappings started a few months ago. Cassomir has always had some trouble with its citizens going missing, but this was different. Only those associated with the Imperial Naval Shipyards were taken—shipwrights, carpenters, navy guards, and so on. This recent kidnapping, where they took Cestis, was brash and bold. They grabbed more than a dozen people in one attack, neglecting to grab Nefti. Their mistake is our fortune”, answers Venture-Captain Themis with a firm look.
"Why you tell us what you saw and know?"
Nefti, the boy that somehow was not kidnapped along with the others attending the auction, starts sweating as soon as he’s directly addressed by the Pathfinders. “Be…Because there has been an agreement between the So…the Society and the Co…The Consortium. And…They promised me you would get my master back…”
Venture-Captain Themis shakes her head, and tries to drive away any possible misunderstanding from Nefti’s words. “He was Kafar’s assistant” she clarifies, hoping to dissipate the though that the boy could have been a slave.
"Six dozen?! That is a lot of organized kidnappings in only a few months, what is the local guard's current role? I'm sure there's quite the public outcry." Nebraska reopens her journal and flips to a new page while she listen's to Jak's questions getting answered. She nods and produces more questions while making scribbles. "Hmm, so roughly 14 disappeared at the auction. How many nappers participated there? How were they dressed and equipped? Were the victims physically wrangled or under a type of magical influence? This place you're leading us to, what type of environment is it? Hmmm, and Captain Themis, I assume resolving the other 6 dozen missing persons cases is a priority as well?"
“You have a lot of questions, Nebraska. But you’re right, at least about the authorities. They’ve been unable to recover the dozens of other Cassomir citizens who’ve gone missing in recent months. What makes you think they’ll get our Pathfinder back? Besides, Cestis has some... knowledge I’d rather the local authorities not get, and so I need you to get him for me.” Then Venture-Captain Themis nods to Nefti as to encourage him to answer to the other questions.
The Chelaxian boy shakes his head. “I…I didn’t see that much, I…I’m afraid. I just ran out of the place as soon as I smelled danger…” The boy is clearly not happy at all to confess his cowardice.
“Oh, and no. As much as I would like you to save all the kidnapped victims, no. They’re not priorities. Cestis is your priority. And Kafar right after. Of course, if you can save the other I’m sure your deeds wouldn’t go unnoticed”, concludes the Venture-Captain.
"I knew this was a lawless city, but that is a lot of kidnappings. What sort of ransom payment do you think we're looking at? Have they all taken place at the auctions, or is there anything else connecting the victims?"
Venture-Captain Themis ignore the hint of disdain in Fiammetta’s words and answers her directly. “As I said, not all of the recent kidnappings took place at the auction. Before, only those associated with the Imperial Naval Shipyards were taken—shipwrights, carpenters, navy guards, and so on.”
"What was the nature of the the items being auctioned? Kafar, I assume, we can turn over to Nefti, who will know what to do and where to go. And you, sir -" His gaze and voice abruptly shift to Nefti, but remain calm and friendly "- You were at the auction, I take it? If you were not kidnapped as well, perhaps their pattern is random. But then again, what appears random to us may be a structured stratagem on the part of our foes. Or maybe they expect us to come to this conclusion, and their plan is, in fact, random. But they could be expecting us to come to that conclusion, and..."
“It had to do with relics and ancient Taldan artifacts” answers Venture-Captain Themis. When Dolgarth invites his companions to find their answers on the field, she nods wholeheartedly. “I like this kind of approach”, she comments.
Nefti visibly relaxes once Aldus shows him some kindness. The boy though shakes his head in denial. “I…I don’t need to rest, sir. I have a duty to fulfill. I must take you to the place where I saw them taking the victims”. There’s a firm resolution in the boy’s words, although he’s still shaking.
“Pretty lovable boy, isn’t he? So shy and yet so dutiful” comments the Venture-Captain with a smirk. “Now, I think it’s time for you to go. Remember. Bring me back Cestis, at all costs”.
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Nebraska blushes coyly to the mention of her verbosity, but as the Venture-Captain continues on the flirty smile changes to hard resolve and then lastly to an unsatisfied frown.
'Cassomir has always had some trouble with its citizens going missing... No. They’re not priorities.' A few of Themis' words roll around in Nebraska's head. Emotionally she disagrees but she still understands that the Society is bigger than she knows. 'There must be quite the underground here to support losing people so readily..The Society must have good reasons, maybe this secret is the key to all of it. Yeah! Saving the secret will help the people.. probably...not..' The look on Nebraska's face gives away a conflict with her thoughts.
The call to action returns her to the moment, "We'll bring your man back, you can count on us!" She returns her journal and pen to their pocket and cracks her knuckles.
"Let's get on with it you adorable ball of adolescent insecurity!" She says to Nefti with a loving grin.
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Taking the hint that Themis will provide them with few answers, he thanks her, not letting his discontentment show: "We will follow your advice, then, and look for answers in the field, Venture-Captain. We'll meet again soon, with Cestis, Kafar and the other disappeared." his voice gains significantly more confidence towards the end as he sees Nebraska's disheartenment. 'At least I am not the only who cares about the regular men and women. We will find these people.'
"Come now, Nefti.", he echoes the half-elf's call in an equally warm but more serious tone.
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”Nebraska is right,” Jak says confidently, clapping Aldus and the young boy on the back as he heads towards the stairs,”We’ll find them.”
He gives a sideways grin over to Fiametta, ”And maybe we’ll get to see some of the livelier spots in the Shipyards while we’re at it.” With a final, casual salute to the Venture Captain, he walks up the stairs and makes for the front door, an excited spring in his step.
Once outside, he’s got a wide smile, ”First assignment. Are you guys excited? I’m excited.” His enthusiasm chills slightly when he approaches the mule, and he begins rifling through the gear it carries. ”All my stuff better be in here, Norgy,” he accuses.
As he searches, moving around to the animal’s flank to check the pack saddles, he mutters to the team, ”Norgy, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Norgy. He’s an ass.”
Norgy responds by relieving an overfull bladder on Jak’s boot.
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Is Taldor so weak that they cannot stop the disappearance of so many workers from a military facility? Or is the Navy behind it? Neither inspires confidence in the old lion's future. Fiametta shakes her head in disgust.
She follows her partners outside, to where the unruly mule waited, thoughts buzzing in her head. "I hadn't realized you saw where some of the prisoners were taken," she says to Nefti. "That was smartly done. Were Kafar and Cestis among those prisoners, do you know?"
To the other Pathfinders she says, "So it sounds like this is more of a rescue than an investigation. In that case I'll follow your lead. Just give me a heads up shortly before we arrive, so I can set my wards. Or if we need to talk to any officials -- I am somewhat conversant with paperwork, both real and fictitious.
"Wait. Before you leave..." Venture-Captain Themis stops you as you're getting ready to leave the lodge. "These are for you. They arrived two days ago along with your documents. Here" says the Venture-Captain as she hands out a single, sealed letter to each of you. "I guess I know what's inside, so allow me to be clear. Regardless of the contents of those letters I expect you to put the Society's interests first and everything else in the background." The look on her face is resolute and straight.
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Nefti walks close to Fiammetta as the group leaves the lodge, almost as if being close to a Chelaxian inspired confidence in the boy. "Kafar was among them, of that I'm sure. As for the Pathfinder...Well, I'm not so sure about it. My eyes were focused on my master".
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Jak walks along, longspear resting lazily across his shoulder as he pulls Norgy through the streets. Along the way, he hums tunelessly as he watches the sights of the city slide by. The boy's answer catches his attention, and he looks back over his shoulder.
"So what'd your boss's captors look like, kid? Anything might be helpful."
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Nebraska takes the letter out of curiosity and a bit confused. It hadn't dawned on her until she read it that there were factions within the Society itself.
Before stepping outside she draws her hair back and pulls her hood back over her head, the crest of it sitting on her brow so her hair is hidden but her innocent face is still visible. Nebraska breathes in deeply and bounces into a few squats to get her blood flowing again. As she exhales quietly it's hard to read her expression but her voice is bright and in contrast from her subdued image of the streets. "Am I ever Jak! Though your ass seems to be scared out of it's wits, it's all right boy, no one would hurt a cutie like you." She tries to pet the beast's head but it looks away.
Nebraska nods to Fiametta's planning. "Right, I think I'll follow ten or so feet off and try to blend in with the casual traffic while we're in the city." Then turning to Aldus she gives him a wink, "I have a feeling we'd do well if we ever had to talk ourselves out of something."
Once they're walking she focuses on listening and observing.
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Aldus walks out and innocently pets Norgy, believing Jak's words to be just an exaggeration. As soon as his hand touches the animal, it turns its head and directs a cold glance full of uncanny hatred towards the bard. He quickly withdraws his hand: "In the name of the Revolution, what happened to this animal?" Then, in a more pragmatic tone: "Perhaps it's wise to leave it and our travel gear in the lodge? Otherwise, do you think Norgy would mind carrying some of mine?"
Distancing himself from Norgy, Aldus opens the envelope. He reads it quickly and takes note of its contents, a slight frown setting in his face. The frown deepens as he thinks about the kidnapped: 'Perhaps I was too hasty in saying we will rescue everyone. Not exactly a good track record, eh, lad?'
As they set out, Aldus keeps replies to Nebraska's wink with a laugh: "I'm sure the captors will release everyone if we both ask nicely". On the road, he follows up on Jak's question: "Do you think you could describe exactly what you saw as it happened? How many were the captors, how they subdued twelve people? Was there anyone else you knew amongst the attendants?"
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Jak looks back at Aldus, then Norgy, "I'm afraid if I leave him he'll wander off. But go ahead, put your stuff up on there. He'll hold onto it," He glares at Nory, "WITHOUT eating any of it, right?!"
Jak helps Aldus load his stuff into the mule's saddle packs, mostly keeping his fingers from being bitten as he listens in on Aldus's line of follow-up questions.
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Dolgarth watches Norgy's antics from the corner of his eye while he reads his letter. He laughs it up, thinking that he may have to brush up on Taldor's relations with Qadira. 'That was some extreme language there, perhaps I should better know what I am getting into. Faction politics seem to play a deeper role in the mission than the mission in some minds, but I suppose I can be two tools at once.'
As the company walks along, he nonchalantly begins to toss his flail in the air and catch it by the opposite end from which he threw. His shield is strapped over his pack and cloak, and as such he appears ready for a fight. "It would be nice if that were to pass, Aldus," he remarks wryly. "But I'd bet it's rarely that simple. Not all fights end lethally, and it is almost always better that way, though someone may get the Hell beaten out of them. Besides, every so often you could use a good scrap."
“A group of people broke in and subdued those attending to the auction, my master Kafar included. I don’t know how many of them were there, nor how could they get the better of so many people. As soon as I scented trouble I snuck away”, answers Nefti as you walk. “We must head to the Inn of the Unlucky Sailor. I saw them taking my master Kafar there.”
---
It’s a 15 minutes-long walk to the Inn of the Unlucky Sailor. Along the road, you see many Cassomirites busy doing their work, and almost no one seems to pay attention to you.
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Perched precariously overhanging the dirty harbor water stands the Inn of the Unlucky Sailor. A fresh coat of white paint glistens on half the inn’s outside walls, and most of the windows are boarded up. The roof leans slightly toward the harbor, as if at any moment the entire thing could come off and slide into the ocean. The dock leading up to the inn is made of rotting wood connected to thick, rank-smelling pilings. Several small rowboats are currently tied up along its length.
“I’ll stop here” says Nefti, “my master, Kafar, it’s inside. Of that I’m sure. Please, save him”.
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Approaching the inn quietly is quite difficult. There is limited access to the inn from the water below and the dock leading up to the main entrance is so rotten and noisy that anyone attempting to walk silently finds it very hard. Additionally, unless you don’t want to fall prone, you’re forced to move extremely slowly. The street entrance is boarded up.
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Jak stands looking at the Unlucky Sailor, idly fingering the letter from Captain Maldris he’d put in his pocket. He looks over at Nefti as they boy steps back, ”Not going in, huh?” His face splits into a grin, ”Trying to make us suspicious, Nefti?”
He takes a few moments to look for a second way in.
”Hey, Nebs,” he says to the striking, quiet-footed half-elf, ”you think you can get a look in there without being seen?” He nods to the water, ”Or maybe we can take a swim and try for a window somewhere?”
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Aldus ponders for a bit and then thanks the kid: "I see. You were smart in leaving soon, and brave in tracking them to the Inn. We will do everything we can to see the kidnapped to safety."
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Looking at the inn, a cloud of suspicion momentarily darkens Aldus' thoughts: 'Is the kid leading us into a trap? Are we pawns in some power play between the Consortium and the Society?' He shakes his head as if to disperse it 'No use dwelling on it.'
He walks around the street-facing side of the building, assessing how many entrances it has. He also tries to look for any open windows. Whilst doing that, he says to Fiametta: "Might be a good time to put up those wards you mentioned."
Still suspicious of the whole situation, he asks the boy: "Did you manage to see how they entered this place, Nefti?"
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Nebraska eyes the path in from the water. "Yeah, maybe, but not along this rotten dock... this thin shaky thing looks like a great trap to me. I'll check out the street side. Does anyone have a pry-bar in case we need it? I won't take it with me now, but my gut says a loud entrance from the street is wiser than getting caught in the middle of this balance beam by arrows."
She takes off her backpack and starts to set it on Norgy "If it's alright I'll.." but she's cutoff by the beast's snappy jaws a mere inch from her fingers. "..uh, maybe I'll leave this with one of you?" she asks the group instead.
Nebraska heads towards the street entrance, putting effort in to stay unassuming. She takes a peak at the letter she had received while she walks. 'Hmmm, do the others know? Do I tell them?'
Once she's able to she ducks out of the cities flow of traffic and slips up to the structure, she hopes unnoticed. Once there, she inspects the building, the boarded up door, and the general area for anything suspicious. She listens for voices inside as well and if she is standing on any wood that is precariously overhanging as part of the Unlucky Sailor she'll try to feel for vibrations coming from the structure.
There two entrances to the inn. One is the street entrance, and it is boarded up. The other one is on the eastern side of the inn and it is accessed through the rotten wood dock.
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Nebraska blends in with the crowd of busy sailors going up and down the street, but she's unable to discern any meaningful sound coming from inside the inn. She notices that the passersby seem to ignore the building, almost as though it didn't exist at all.
Nebraska is disappointed to see that all the windows of the inn are boarded up, at least those on the street side. The Qadiran half-elf decides to inspect the left side of the inn, and not judging the dock to be so much rotten to fall apart when walked on, she moves as silently as she can in order to see if she can find a window she can glance through. In doing so, she produces several creakings in the dock behind her, but eventually finds what she was looking for-a condensate window through which she sees a portion of the inn's interior. And what she sees inside is shocking to say the least!
There’s a square pool in the center of main hall, and just behind it are two disgusting, filthy giant rats, the size of a small dog. They have a coat of coarse fur, a long and scabby tail, and two glittering eyes.
Near the bar, another giant rat, in all respects similar to the others, appears to be licking the feet of a strange man. He has long, dirty hairs and wears only rags. Strange pictograms cover his body and face and a club hangs from his belt, a hemp cord coiled around his waist.
Sitting on a stool in front of the bar is an unconscious or sleeping man, with fine red clothes, but you can only see his back from your observation point.
Worst of all, the man wearing the rags appears to have noticed something coming from the window and is quickly moving toward it in order to inspect it. The rats also seem to have noticed something and are all turned in your direction, although you can’t tell if they know you’re there.
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"I have a crowbar, here you go..." Dolgarth looks up from rooting around in his pack for his crowbar to see that Nebraska has vanished. 'All right, then, while we wait, I'll see to this structure.'
The half-elf squats in front of the dock, looking at it, listening to it, brushing it with his fingers in search of meaning. "Let us learn what we can before we may have to enter," he remarks.
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When they arrive at the apprpriately-named Inn of the Unlucky Sailor, Fiametta takes Nebraska's advice and sets her protective spell. She also follows her lead in leaving her backpack with the surly Norgy. And by the time she has done that, she realizes the Qadiran has vanished.
"I suppose that this would be the time to come up with a plan. But I don't really have anything in mind. I have spells that allow me to disable a group of people for a short time, in a couple of different ways. Or we could try talking our way in. I'll just follow the lead of...did we ever assign a leader? Don't most groups like this benefit from a clear chain of command?"
She otherwise waits patiently for Nebraska's return, or the group to advance.
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Jak stops fiddling with the saddlebags and instead turns to lean back on the mule as he does a poor job of trying to watch for Nebraska (or trouble) without looking like he's doing just that.
"I thought 'get in there and get those people back' was the plan," says Jak with a playful smirk. "Good to know about your spells, though. That could come in real handy. I got a trick or two, myself, but nothing as fancy as yours, I'm sure."
He goes back to inconspicuously watching the inn, his foot tapping an impatient rhythm on the ground. "As for a leader ... eh ... the best leaders are the ones that rise up as opposed to being raised up." He grins at her again, "But hey, if we just absolutely need a front man, I nominate me."
The group sees Nebraska pushing herself up against the building and taking a small step toward the street, almost as if she was hiding from something.
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