Tah Dot!
Level 2 social Rogue or a level 3 battle oracle dot.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
A few weeks ago, you all recieved a letter from Venture-Captain Valsin.
The letter reads-
Pathfinders,
Society agents recently learned of a lost, previously undocumented Sky Citadel in what was once Sarkoris, the land now consumed by the Worldwound. As we cannot push into that demon-infested wasteland ourselves, we have recruited dwarven aid in the dangerous expedition. In exchange for military assistance and historical expertise, the dwarves will have the opportunity to reclaim this lost stronghold. Two weeks ago, Highhelm sent an entourage of diplomats and tacticians north toward Mendev to meet with Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury to discuss terms and develop a plan of attack. When they failed to arrive in a timely fashion, Jorsal commissioned sending magic to contact Rakuska Ingardam, the mission’s leader. Rakuska’s return message—cut off due to the magic’s limit—was as follows: “Passed Xer, paid our way, but attacked and overcome. Razmiri priests hold us for unknown purpose. We are held somewhere near the Glass River at…” One of several possible places they are held is the Gray Revelation Inn, about thirty miles east of Xer—we suspect the Razmiri priesthood uses the site to interrogate prisoners. You must investigate and liberate the three dwarven envoys—if indeed that is where they are imprisoned—and then escort them to Mendev. Accompanying you are two other dwarves who will take the captured envoys’ places if you aren’t successful: merchant Metella Raugar and respected Pahmet mystic Amauhak. The Kalistocrat Temel Passad, a Druman with whom we have dealt in the past, has volunteered a boat to transport you north, and I see little reason why we should not take him up on this offer. Building a good working relationship with one or more influential merchants would be to everyone’s benefit.
Good luck!
Ambrus Valsin
The party has been finally arrived in the country of Druma. You are currently sitting in an opulent parlor in the Druman capital of Kerse, part of the manor home of Temel Passad, a prominent Kalistocrat.
Two silent servants open a pair of richly lacquered doors, and a human and two dwarves stride into the lavish parlor. The man, clad in immaculate robes of whitest silk, is short and round with a blond oiled beard, and his eyes are alert and amused. He takes a touch of snuff from a golden box and sneezes before saying, “It is a pleasure to welcome Pathfinders to one of my estates once more. I am, as you may know, Temel Passad. Allow me to introduce—” One of the two dwarves, a redheaded female in deep scarlet robes, curtly interrupts the man. “We can introduce ourselves, Passad. I am Metella Raugar, representing the interests of several Highhelm mercantile consortia. My companion”—she gestures to a dwarven man with leathery skin baked by the sun, his head swathed in a bright yellow scarf—“is Amauhak of Reth Bezel, a mystic of the sand dwarves of Osirion.”
|
"Brutus Ironheart", the half-orc says with a nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."
Brutus is a tall powerfully built half-orc with drab olive skin and short coarse dark hair. He's dressed in a loose-fitting roughspun sleeveless tunic and leather breeches. His bare arms are corded with thick muscle and covered in elaborate runic tattoos.
|
A momentary pause goes by as Corb fails to answer the unasked question. "Stuffed-up fancies."
Corbalias is a bald hulking man whose primary ethnicity is unclear, showing few definitive features of the Avistan-and-bordering ethnicities Taldan, Varisian, and Kelish descents. On his back is hangs a greatsword, engraved with half-a-dozen tallymarks in the side. He otherwise carries meager gear and is dressed in hide armor lined with a bear pelt.
|
|
"Good day Miss Midori. Good day sir." Wayne nods to the elven woman and then to Corb. Wayne himself stands at about 6 feet tall, wearing a fairly dirty studded leather duster along with a wide brimmed hat. He also has a pistol holstered at his hip, engraved with an 'S'. He has a permanent 5 o-clock shadow on his face along with dark brown eyes.
|
|
Midori stands just under six feet with long flowing brunette hair. She has a longbow slung on her back, and is garbed in green dyed leathers that match her eyes. She takes her eyes off her companion long enough to size up what appears to be her first traveling group since her initiation.
She gives a polite nod in acknowledgement to the strange smelling man with the odd looking hat.
"Spruce, please don't touch that." She says sharply, causing the roaming sapling to quickly recoil away from an expensive looking decoration on a nearby table.
The two dwarves stare at the party in wide-eyed mystification. You do know we can hear you? Is this how all Pathfinders are? It's a wonder the Society has such pull around the world. Matella blurts out.
Passad waves off the dwarf's questions as he brings everyone a glass of water. Don't mind her, she's a little...controlling. Though I must agree with my guest, that now would be the time for questions if you have any. He sets the serving tray down and says. Let me start. I have arranged for my personal boat, the Abacus, to take you from Kerse, hugging the shore of Lake Encarthan before entering the mouth of the Glass River to pursue your first task: searching the Gray Revelation Inn for the missing emissaries. Now perhaps you can humor our guests with some questions, eh? Like the excellent Pathfinders you are.
Passad shrugs. Though I don't know for sure, I heard three elderly sisters owned it. We know nothing of the Inn or it's proprietors Remember that the Inn is just one of a myriad places they could be. It was thought that it would be a good jumping off point for your investigation.
|
|
Midori gives the screaming man a strange look, Wayne an apologetic one, then turns her attention back to the dwarves.
"I, uhh... apologies. Do you know what your three compatriots look like? Or anything they may have had that we should be looking for at the inn. I believe I was summoned for tracking purposes, so anything more you can give me beyond what was in the letter would be helpful."
Metella moves to speak while Amauhak continues to stand quietly, apparently meditating. "The three "men" are dwarves: Rakuska Imgardam, a well-known Five Kings diplomat and devotee of Torag; Holfist Sendstrom of Taggoret; and Pechas Domri—like Amauhak, a Pahmet dwarf of Osirion. All are valued for their strategic and military acumen.”
Passad shrugs his shrug that tells you he has nothing helpful to tell you. Who knows for sure what the Razmirans are up to. It’s a strict theocratic government presided over by a vast priestly bureaucracy serving a being said to be a living god. All other faiths are prohibited in the nation, though foreign priests are tolerated as long as they are not proselytizing and just passing through. All nonresidents are subject to sundry tariffs and unannounced inspections.
Passad tells you that you have about an hour to gather any last minute supplies before the Abacus sets sail. After boarding the watercraft, the ship's crew, five sailors including the captain, sets the boat on it's course. The journey along the coast of Lake Encarthan from Kerse is uneventful. The ship's crew is quiet and efficient, and the boat reaches the mouth of the Glass River and heads east without incident. As the boat enters Razmiran waters, Passad and the two dwarves come up to the party. Passad clears his throat with a sidelong glance at Matella. We now have a choice before us. We can either dock in Xer and pay the necessary tolls or sail on and try to evade the Razmiri authorities. I suggest we dock, I will pay the obligatory toll and bribes out of my own pocke... The man is cutoff as Metella interjects, Nonsense! We should make a run for it. It we stop, Amauhak and my freedom are forfeit as the Razmiri authorities will discover us, an envoy and a Kalistocrat.
Passad shakes his head in disagreement. We are better off stopping and paying the tolls. Without proof of we've paid the expected tribute, we run the risk of being boarded by one of the ubiquitous faith barges, which is almost a certainty.
Matella grumbles. I would rather risk my chances with barges than waltz right into Xer. But, I will abide by this groups decision. She says, motioning toward your group of Pathfinders.
Both Matella and Passad look to you for a decision.
Passad smiles and nods in agreement, while Metella snorts and grumbles, as the party chooses to dock. He reaches into a silk purse and removes two platinum pieces, handing them to the party. This should be more than enough to handle any tolls or bribes. Be accomodating and humble and get us out of here quickly. With that, he turns and head belowdecks with the dwarves, to hide.
The city of Xer occupies the north bank of the Glass River, and its dozens of docks remain busy as ships headed both east and west call at the port. Grubby men and women in bulky jackets patrol the docks, and few smiling faces are to be seen. The boat’s captain chooses an isolated berth sheltered on either side by tall warehouses. One of the sailors tosses a rope to the dockworker, who moors the boat to post near him.
As the Abacus arrives at the dock, three Razmiri enforcers—one holding the taut leash of a slavering, half tamed wolf—approach and inquire about the travelers’ business in Razmiran and how many souls are aboard. State you business, cargo, and crew. say one of the enforcers.
|
EDIT: Ran also creates forged paperwork that looks like its from the Razmiran church while below decks to say that Vanja Ofir is to report to High Priest Dimir Vankov at the Gray Revelation Inn tonight.
Ran comes out from below decks, her mind now fully in her role as a Razmiri priestess. She is now wearing a long silver grey cloak complete with a hood covering her head and wearing a mask which hides her face. She carries herself now in a very haughty manner.
"I am Vanja Ofir, priestess of Ramzir," Ran says with all traces of her accent gone. "I have chartered the Abacus to take me down the Glass River. My business and cargo is my own business, and not yours."
"The crew's Tithing Step is here." Ran takes a pouch with 20 gold (or whatever is equivalent to two platinum pieces) and throws it aggressively to the guard. "Take it and leave us, or by the end of the week I'll have you burned at the stake as a hethin and have your followers sent to the Exalted Wood."
The lead Razmiri dockman reels back on his heels as Ran appears on deck. My apologies priestess, I did not know your craft was coming in. He glances quickly at the paperwork, still shaken, and quickly waves off the his men. Again, my apologies Priestess. I hope word of my expeditious nature meets higher ears. He says with a bow. He then quickly heads off the docks, looking for something to make him look busy.
The boats crew quickly unties the rope and heads back into the flow of the river. The river narrows ahead, flowing around a central isle thick with trees and vegetation. The northern fork of the river runs beneath a canopy formed by the isle’s overhanging trees and riverside foliage while to the south, the river is open to the sky above.
The captain asks which fork the party wants to take?
The heeds the words of the two Pathfinders, turning the craft south. The shore passes by serenely when the group hears a loud splash near the boat. Looking up, the party sees, what looks to be a dragon with graceful wings and wide fins, emerge from the river. It carries something in its talons which it drops on the deck of the ship as it flies over. It then turns a cartwheel in the air before turning and heading back toward the ship.