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A brisk breeze carries the scent of the sea up to the Pathfinder Society’s lodge in Katheer, the capital of Qadira. The lodge’s shaded balcony gives a panoramic view of Katheer’s harbor, revealing hundreds of ships moored in the busy port, lateen-rigged merchant dhows and the bright-sailed warships that protect Qadira’s shipping.
“Thank you for getting here so soon,” the nasal voice of Venture-Captain Osretia Cassomiran calls from within. She is a tall, gray-haired woman of Azlanti lineage, and she rifles through papers as she speaks from inside her office. “Have you met the groom, Farendir Faireven? He’s quite bright, especially for someone from the River Kingdoms.”
Venture-Captain Cassomiran’s quest continues fruitlessly as she searches a sagging bookshelf. “The bride’s quite a catch, too; called the Lady of Silver for her father’s wealth. It’s certainly a coup for young Faireven.”
Clambering beneath her desk, Osretia’s voice is muffled by stacked texts. “Anyway, during the wedding feast, the girl’s father, Master Bashir Al-Mudaris, plans to donate several valuable relics to the Pathfinder Society. Clearly, Master Bashir wants to promote his new son-in-law’s status in the Society. That’s where you come in: we need you to escort these antiques to Absalom.”
Suddenly, the Venture-Captain’s shouts, “By Irori! I found them!” She places several elegantly scripted invitations on the disheveled desk. “You do have something decent to wear for the wedding, do you not? You’re going to represent the Society, and we certainly can’t afford any embarrassments.”
"The wedding is scheduled for the early afternoon of the following day so you have plenty of time to prepare and purchase what you need."
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Eadie wakes up with a start at the Venture-Captain’s voice. Already tired by the long sea voyage, the gentle sea-breeze enticed her to sleep an hour ago on one of the comfy benches set up on the balcony.
“Have you met the groom?”
“You mean the dude that brushes down her pony and mucks out her stable ends up MARRYING HER??”
Eadie’s eyes turn skyward and her expression becomes faraway. *sigh* “That’s so romantic. Who said dreams don’t come true.”
She frowns and looks sharply at the sorceror. “Wait. You did, didn’t you, Karsa?”
“You do have something decent to wear for the wedding, do you not?”
“Heck, yeah! Check it out!”
The woman rises showing off a suit of black full plate, with a heart-shaped key embossed over her left breast. She twirls a golden cape about her shoulders which features expertly stitched appliqué of a fiery angel, golden key, antlered longbow and blood-soaked rose.
“I’ve got all the accessories to go with it too: great helm, spiked gauntlet, falchion. Seriously VC Cassomiran, I’m dressed to kill!”
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In the corner of the room, a pink skinned Ifrit with burning yellow eyes and a pencil moustache looks unamused. He wears a robe of black and white, with a white scarf over his neck, under the scarf a holy symbol is barely visible. He carries a scimitar and a longbow. From his outfit, it becomes evident to all he is a devout follower of Sarenrae.
"And what is wrong with what we wear now Captain?" He speaks sarcastically. "And what of those antiques? What is it's value?"
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Grint takes out a notepad and stows his invitation away safely. Grint makes a quick list and some notes in his pad. While making his way down the list and not waiting for an answer Grint asks, "I have some questions about the logistics. What exactly will we be transporting, can we easily carry it, where are we taking it precisely, how long will the journey take, and what about this journey means you need this many pathfinders as escorts?" Grint then waits with a poised pen ready to write down the answers. Grint is oblivious to any of the attempts at answering he has already talked over.
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I’m dressed to kill
"And what is wrong with what we wear now Captain?"
VC Cassomiran looks sternly at the group as she locks eyes with each member. "I am only going to say this once. You are not going there to kill. T=You are going to attend a wedding and its festivities of all things. Dress accordingly as you will be representing the Pathfinders. You embarrass us and you will not have another job again. You may wear your blades if you wish as many will, though theirs is for ceremonial purposes."
“Say, VC Cassomiran. Will the wedding have an open bar?”
"Stay focused on the task at hand. Though there will be food and drink."
"And what of those antiques? What is it's value?"
"I have some questions about the logistics. What exactly will we be transporting, can we easily carry it, where are we taking it precisely, how long will the journey take, and what about this journey means you need this many pathfinders as escorts?"
"Master Bashir will have the items and list once you arrive though they are promised after the couple are married. The items are priceless from what we gather, which is why we gathered so many Pathfinders."
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Karsa stands at the balcony looking out over the beautiful port scene. Bah, place smells like dead fish he grunts as he turns and hobbles into the room. It's too damn hot as well...
“That’s so romantic. Who said dreams don’t come true.”
She frowns and looks sharply at the sorceror. “Wait. You did, didn’t you, Karsa?”
Of course dreams don't come true, anyone with half a brain realises that just by lookin' at the world. Daft girl!
He levers himself slowly into a chair with much groaning and creaking as he listens to the venture captain. You don't want no killin'! he barks, then whyd you get together this bunch of hardbitten murderers. Seems like you don't know what you want but I can talk pretty enough to fool these stupid local hicks...the heat probably melted what wits they had.
So, I'm a guessin' that the society wants to use this la'di'da event as a chance to hobnob with some local bigwigs. Is there anyone going we should look out for in particular? Anything we should know about the locale afore we git there?
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Daft girl!
Wow! ‘Daft’ must be the Orc word for ‘Cool.’
… this bunch of hardbitten murderers.
“Oh come on, Karsa! I’ve never bitten anyone to death in my life.”
Eadie cocks her head to the side like a pug puppy. “Sounds pretty daft.”
The black knight nods her understanding to the Venture-Captain. “No booze, no armor, no killing, yes weapons, yes playing nice. You can rely on me, ma’am!”
She rises to begin her exploration of Katheer’s fashion bazaars, before another question occurs to her. “You said the groom was from the River Kingdoms, yeah?”
“Plenty of unsavory types – poisoners and the like from there. Are any of his family or previous business acquaintances planning on attending the festivities?”
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After purchasing his sleeves of many garments Karsa will spend the day creating different outfits, looking for one which he likes the most. He will also try out a range of different guises with Disguise Self, eventually settling on the appearance of a handsome, wealthy human dressed as a Prophet of Kalistrade. He also picks up a half orc disguise kit to help out.
If anyone asks he will snap at them, Got to fit in you fool, these dumb humies never accept us half-breeds and this lot seem to be more hoity-toity than most, damn sun worshipper are always the worst. I think it boils their brains.
Oddly it seems that his apparent infirmities don't really hamper his disguise.
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Eadie links arms with Hania. “Let’s go shopping, girl--friend!”
The young Pathfinder laughs and makes small-talk with various stall owners as she revels in discovering the perrr-fect Qadiran wedding outfit!
To mask her solid build, Eadie settles on an A-line evening dress of crimson silk, flared dramatically at the waist. However, the form-fitting bodice and full-length sleeves only emphasize the warrior’s bulging muscles. She complements the gown with a dramatic black hijab, which looks not unlike an executioner’s hood. Low-heeled black leather pumps and a matching handbag complete the look.
“I’ll shove my dagger, potions and alchemical tools in my handbag – if the darn things'll fit!”
For jewellery, Eadie wears a silver brooch in the shape of a demure Keleshite maiden. “To honor Our Lady of Silver of course!” As well as an ecclesiastical ring featuring the Key of the First Vault, belonging first to her late mother – a paladin of Abadar, and then to her aunt – a lay elder of the church.
She does a quick twirl. “Whatcha think? Once I’ve strapped my weapons to my back, I’ll be ready to party!”
Eadie calls to an oddly familiar Prophet of Kalistrade. “Excuse me, Your Prophecy. You haven’t seen an extinguished half-orc by the name of Karsa Ibn Jad anywhere, have you?”
"I was wondering if we need to buy a wedding present for the happy couple?"
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Karsa smiles at Eadie in her new get up. Looks like you brush up not too bad girlie, your presence is surely present enough for the happy couple...
He gives Eadie an exaggerated wink.
It's me, Karsa.
Turning to the rest of the group, If any of you lot plan on leaving off the armour to attend this shindig then I can stick a mage armour on you in case of...complications. I'm sure it'll be fine but you never know...Pathfinders seem to have a knack for findin' trouble
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Is there anyone going we should look out for in particular? Anything we should know about the locale afore we git there?
"There are a few people of interest that will be attending the wedding."
Master Bashir al-Mudaris, the father of the bride: The wizened master trader leans on a gnarled cane, rapping it on the ground to emphasize his points. Although he thoroughly enjoys the celebration, Bashir has little patience for the grasping ways of his fellow merchants. He plans to retire to a monastery once he finds a worthy heir for his business.
Halman, High Priest of Sarenrae: Still hearty and energetic, this pious elder proudly claims descent from the famous High Priest Ubaidah Abd-Hikmah. An avid collector, he possesses several of his ancestor’s relics. Halman retires early from the party, missing the later mayhem.
Pathfinder Farendir Faireven and his bride, Lujine: Giddy with love, the newlyweds constantly talk about each other. Generally a level-headed young woman, Lujine can be a bit naïve. Farendir is normally bright, but tends to get distracted, lost in his bride’s dark eyes.
Al’Jahar abu-Targos: A tall, dark-skinned merchant, Al’Jahar is the nephew of deceased Venture-Captain Targos Min-Katheer.
You don't want no killin'! he barks, then whyd you get together this bunch of hardbitten murderers. Seems like you don't know what you want but I can talk pretty enough to fool these stupid local hicks...the heat probably melted what wits they had.
"We got you together to attend the wedding, partake in the festivities and escort the relics back for the Societies Vaults."
Where can I pick up something appropriate to wear?
"There are plenty of shops here in town that should sell what you are looking for. Try the Cotton Cloud Creation for any clothing."
"I don't kill... unless they deserve death, however, it seems it doesn't take much these days for that."
"Outside of goblin weddings, there is little killing going on."
“You said the groom was from the River Kingdoms, yeah?”
Venture-Captain Cassomiran seems too busy digging through more books but manages to nod her head.
Are any of his family or previous business acquaintances planning on attending the festivities?”
"Of course his family is planning on attending. Though he is from the River Kingdoms, he is a well and upcoming Pathfinder Agent."
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Master Bashir al-Mudaris, the father of the bride: The wizened master trader leans on a gnarled cane, rapping it on the ground to emphasize his points.
“Hey, there’ll be someone there you can like totally relate to, Karsa.”
Eadie cannot resist a little good-natured ribbing of the False Prophet. “You two will be able to sit around and discuss how much better things were when the Runelords were in charge!”
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Grint goes to the Cotton Cloud Creation and picks out a simple but well fitting charcoal grey outfit and takes some recommendations on some appropriate jewelry. The well tailored cut really shows off how thin Grint is under his many layers of clothing. He makes sure he has a few spaces to secrete a few vials upon his person. The remaining vials, ingredients, and other assorted components will be kept in a cloak he carries draped over his arm.
While waiting to leave for the wedding Grint makes sure to hand Eadie and Hania a small metal flash each. A folder piece of paper with the flask simply says 'Enlargement Formula #16: 5 minutes of double height.'
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“I think the Eternal Rose would Approve of Her Champion, Hania. You look beautiful!”
He takes some recommendations on appropriate jewellery.
“Thank-you for the snake oil, Grint! Now, let’s see about your look.”
“Hmm …” Eadie checks the fit of the charcoal grey suit across the alchemist’s shoulders, and the length of the arms. “The color really suits your complexion, Grint.”
"You know what? I would back that statement with a mint green shirt ... Hey, don’t give me that look! I’m completely SERIOUS!"
“I’d then add a bow tie of a slightly darker shade – maybe Shackles green? Ooh, if you wanted to go all out, swap the tie for a neckerchief or a knotted bandana! Heck yeah!”
Eadie nods in satisfaction.
“Klass is self-explanatory, you want something that’s got some.”
“Konversation means make the bling a possible conversation piece. Something a person you’ve just met can pick on to help break the ice.”
“And finally, choose an item that koncerns It might be a cause you’re passionate about, an organization you belong to or just something that reflects your personality – like a cat or a butterfly.”
Eadie *bobs* to the alchemist. “Whatever you decide, I hope this was of some use to you, Master Grint.”
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"Thank you, Eadie," replies Hania with a smile.
She turns to Karsa. "I would appreciate that, Karsa. I don't think my heavy armor would be fitting to wear to an event like this."
Hania now looks at the whole group. "Do any of you have healing wands that you cannot use if we should get into trouble? I would be happy to carry them and use them on you if you should need them. Also, if you are diseased, frightened, or shaken, let me know, and the Lady Shelyn can help me heal you of them."
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Hundreds of guests crowded the temple of Sarenrae this morning while prosperous merchants and courtiers strutted in silken finery and scholars and clergy nodded gravely, clad in sober robes. Scores of servants and grooms waited outside as the High Priest of Sarenrae intoned the couple’s vows.
Afterward, the newlyweds led their guests to the splendidly decorated courtyard of Master Bashir’s estate for the wedding feast. Young men whirled through an ancient sword-dance to the frenzied pounding of doumbeks, their blades clashing louder as the song’s tempo increased. Servant girls brought forth a dazzling array of dishes and iced sekanjabin drinks, as daring snake charmers mesmerized a dozen lethal asps.
After the feast, challenges rang out across the courtyard. Warriors swaggered forth, clad only in loincloths and swinging cudgels, to battle atop a bed of red-hot coals.
At this point, the relics remain in side rooms, not yet on display.
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After the beautiful ceremony Grint collects a glass of wine and waits near the side rooms and the relics. Not one for enjoying a fair fight, he always has something to make sure a fair fight never happens, Grint keeps an eye on the crowd.
The green shirt was a good choice. I'm glad I stuck with the bowtie. A neckerchief would have been a little much, for me at least.
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Eadie hops from one foot to the other – even though she is not yet standing on hot coals – as she guards Hania’s gear.
Must … resist … getting … into … fight …
Finally, she can stand it no more and strips from her finery down to a slip, while calling to the Ifrit Inquisitor. “I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly, Kuriq. Would you mind watching Hania’s and my stuff?”
The warrior shoves her falchion blade-first into the ground, ♫ Whistles ♫ for a club to be thrown to her and hits the hot bricks!
Finally, Eadie will retire from the stage, rather than fight Hania. From observing the paladin’s skill in the grand melee, she will honorably yield to the superior combatant.
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In attempt not to stick out like a sore thumb, Kuriq sticks mostly to himself, and in the shadows of the building. Where and when possible, he seeks out fellow followers of the Dawnflower to chat on the latest activities of the church. Being of keen eyes as well, he looks out for any sight of trouble.
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Vurgam wears his helmet and has adjusted his sleeves of many garments into a courtiers outfit that shows off his dragonhide breastplate. He will wear some jewellery (approximately 70 gp worth) to complement his choice. He also wears his helm of comprehend languages and read magic.
Vurgam has tried to be quiet and polite as much as possible but is beginning to try a line of enquiry amongst the guests
"So tell me how long has Master Bashir al-Mudaris taken an interest in antiquities?"
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Hania and Eadie decide to partake in a bit of the festivities as the pair grab nearby clubs and don their loincloths.
Stepping onto the hot coals Eadie dances around with her club, the heat not quite bothering her at this point. She quickly clubs one of the warriors on the shoulder, removing him from the contest.
Two of the warriors warriors face off against the pair of Pathfinders.
Their clubs easily find contact as the coals are more of a distraction, eliminating both of the Pathfinders from the contest. The crowd gathers and begins to clap and cheer as the contest narrows down to the three warriors.
As the warriors battle on their bed of hot coals, extravagant gifts and displays amaze the crowd. A pair of white elephants from distant Vudra, two dozen silken-haired dromedaries, robes of precious silk, and other treasures appear, each more exotic than the last. Cloth-draped wagons promise additional wonders.
Master Grint leaves the majority of the crowd and stands near the side rooms where four merchant guards stand present.
Sticking to the Shadows Kuriq sneaks up on another follower of the Dawnflower. As Kuriq steps out he scares the man who nearly leaps into the air. Clutching his chest he laughs. "Hooo hoo no need to stand in the dark. Please come out into the light so we may chat. My name is Halman." He seems quite hearty and energetic as he bounces about despite his age. "Did you know that I have direct descent from the famous High Priest Ubaidah Abd-Hikmah?"
Several minutes pass with the man's tales of his local church and what he has been having a bit of difficulty with. Some of the more regaling being redeeming a local crime lord that wants to give back to the community.
It takes quite a while for a few of the people to warm up to Vurgan as not everyone is used to a Nagaji walking among them.
"So tell me how long has Master Bashir al-Mudaris taken an interest in antiquities?"
A dark skinned merchant smiles at him. "Oh! Master Bashir always has. In fact most of the people here collect quite a few antiquities."
Several shrouded wagons sit near the courtyards’ entrances, carrying creatures intended as gifts for various notables. Most of these exotic beasts are harmless: Keleshite peacocks, massive speckled turtles from the Mwangi Expanse, and the like. One wagon’s inhabitants are anything but harmless: a trio of Thuvian lions, intended for the menagerie.
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The crowd gasps as Hania dodges the blow! She is still in the competition with three remaining warriors. Grasping her club in both hands she swings it up and underneath the warriors chin, knocking him right off the coals and unconscious.
One more warrior steps up to Hania.
Though his club is stopped mere inches by magical means, allowing Hania to sweep his feet out from underneath him.
This leaves one warrior remaining who charges Hania, the hot coals finally getting to his feet as blisters begin to form.
The lone warrior proves victorious as he clips Hania on the shoulder! The crowd grows wild at the display of such prowess. The bride and groom clap excitedly as they congratulate the warrior on his victory.
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Gracious in defeat, a smiling Eadie bows to her victorious opponent, the referee and the happy couple as soon as her bare feet return to the manicured lawn.
After finding a more private place to reunite herself with her wedding clothes, Eadie returns to WHOOP and ♫ WHISTLE ♫ her support for Hania, until she is one of the last pair left standing.
The young Pathfinder is still shaking her head at the outcome, when the paladin finds her later.
“That guy was just lucky – his club barely grazed you, Hania! He couldn’t take you again before Abadar Goes Bankrupt!”
The young woman leans over to confirm what she suspects happened in her haste to get dressed. “And for good measure, I’ve laddered my stocking. Gagh! What else can go wrong today? I will follow your example and ask Karsa for some mage armor though.”
Eadie rarely stays in a bad mood for long, and the festive atmosphere soon restores her spirits. “Have you ever seen such wealth before, Hania? Look! Thuvian lions.”
“Who do you want to talk to? Maybe we could ask Master Bashir how well his menagerie is secured?”
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Kuriq pleasantly exchanges stories with Halman, however being a reformed creature himself, his stories are sometimes a little too violent for the average dawnflower, "I've known folk tend to come around to the light after an arrow or two in their back. If that doesn't work, a couple more lets them see justice. I will gladly help you if need."
Kuriq also tries to acquire information from regarding his ancestry, but most importantly what of these wonderful relics he possess.
After the exchange, Kuriq goes around to the rest of the members, silently indicating to them to watch his back as he checks something suspicious out. He approaches one of the guards from the rear and asks him "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."
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The nervous guard hears Kuriq approaching from the rear. Nervously he quickly glances through the crowd for some unseen sign and he pulls the pin, holding the lion gate closed before dashing off into the crowd.
A terrifying roar echoes across the courtyard as enraged lions rush forth from an opened wagon. Cries of distress and alarm arise from every corner of the wedding reception as terrified guests flee before the onslaught of the lions.
Bedlam breaks out in the courtyard as the angry beasts panic the camels and elephants tethered there. A handful of panicky guards desperately fend off the lions as hundreds flee, jamming the exits.
Kuriq
Karsa
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Elephant
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Hania
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Lions
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Vurgan
Master Grint
Eadie
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Kuriq is caught off guard as the lions are let loose. Why must they always do it the difficult way. Need to make this swift and clean. But he waste no time, mutters a few inaudible words under his breath and immediately jumps back and heads towards Vurgan's direction. While doing so, he reaches around and skilfully pulls out his bow and an arrow,. Upon reaching a safe distance, he turns gracefully and lets the arrow fly loose towards the lion. "Need some support here!"
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"Need some support here!"
"You've got it, my friend."
Eadie scans the battlefield, shaking her head.
This is dun gonna RUIN my new outfit.
"Karsa, would you say the elephant is the real threat? Do you think it could be taken out at range, while Hania and I keep the lions off the rest of you?"
Eadie *claps* the paladin on the back. "Pick a target."
"I'm there with you."
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Kuriq knows a little about these lions. Lions are usually the top animal predators in their territories, though they resort to scavenging if convenient or necessary. They may kill other predators (such as leopards and hyenas) that encroach upon their haunts, but rarely eat these kills unless game is scarce. Most lions do not selectively hunt humanoids, but occasionally one learns what easy kills they are and becomes a man-eater.
Lions prefer plains but can adapt to living in shallow caves as long as there's a large and stable supply of prey to keep them fed.
Kuriq is caught off guard but fast to react as he rushes to regroup with Vurgan and fires a rapid shot at the lion, missing his target.
Kuriq
Karsa
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Elephant
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Hania
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Lions
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Vurgan
Master Grint
Eadie
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Karsa's hands emerge from the folds of his pristine white robes holding the gnarled bone walking stick he favours. It rises and points directly at the clump of lions and he mutters a spell as quickly as he can. Sadly, channelling such energies takes up all of his focus as he weaves together a series of darting, angry red globes of light which streak towards two of the lions.
Taking a step back he looks warily at the elephant. That's one big beastie Eadie and it's looking nervous....
3 missiles on red, two missiles on green.
Missile 1: , versus FF CMD
Missile 2: , versus FF CMD
Missile 3: , versus FF CMD
Missile 4: , versus FF CMD
Missile 5: , versus FF CMD
A toppling spell only affects spells with the force descriptor. A toppling spell uses up a spell slot one level higher than the spell's actual level.
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Karsa sends missiles rocketing across the grounds. The missiles rush past screaming guests as they slam into the lions. As the missiles hit the lions are rocked back on their hind legs, though they do not fall as expected.
The elephant tramples forward past Hania and Eadie. The ground itself shakes at their feet as the elephant rumbles past. Fleeing merchants, nobles, and servants jam the exits; trapped victims shriek for help.
Kuriq
Karsa
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Elephant
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Hania
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Lions (Red -23)(Green -7)
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Vurgan
Master Grint
Eadie
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Hania hacks into the terrified beast with her flaming sword, that slices through it's hide like soft butter.
Meanwhile the lions scatter with their newfound freedom as the red lion pounces on Kuriq.
The lion leaps on Kuriq as it's teeth tear into his throat, collapsing the inquisitor underneath the massive weight of the lion as fresh blood drip from it's maw. Feeling Kuriq go limp the lion releases him from its grasp as it eyes Vurgan.
Kuriq (-2/33)
Karsa
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Elephant (-32)
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Hania
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Lions (Red -23)(Green -7)
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Vurgan
Master Grint
Eadie