The summons took you by surprise.
The High Magister requests your presence on the 3rd of Pharast, at his home in the Blue Quarter of Restov. Simply present this letter to the gate guards and they shall assist you.
Sitting in the drawing room, you continue to wonder, why has the First Advisor to Lord Mayor Sellemius asked to see you?
Given the company in the room, it appears you were not the only person who received an invitation.
Dot.
Dot
dot
A small, yet stout female halfling sits in a chair with her feet dangling over the edge. Her hair is gray and somewhat tangled and she wears furs draped atop robes with nothing on her feet. She murmurs to herself quite frequently as if talking to someone no one else can see. While wrinkles on her face denote an older halfling, they also highlight a kind face with observant eyes. She rocks gently back and forth in the chair even though the chair itself does not move.
After waiting for ten minutes, the doors open and a tall human with black hair and a neatly-trimmed goatee walks in. He wears what could be called "fashionable" attire, though he does not display any of the typical accessories one associates with nobility. A signet ring is the only jewelry he displays. So stands Lord Darun Malwen, High Magister of Restov.
"Thank you for coming, I trust nobody was delayed?" he asks. He hurries on, making it clear he already knows the answer and was simply breaking the silence that accompanied his entry.
"You know who I am, and though I do not know each of you, I know of you. Now, the reason you are here... You all expressed interest in joining one of the expeditions to the south. You were each denied. None of you has the family connections, or independent wealth, to make such a desire reality. But I have a proposition for you."
"For many years, I and several of my associates have noticed a significant shift in the Greenbelt, a frontier area just to our southwest. This shift I speak of has to do with the bandits that tend to flock to the Greenbelt to hide out between their raids. There have been far fewer attacks from that direction in recent years, and it concerns me. Though I care nothing for the welfare of miscreants and thugs, I do care about what might be happening less than a week's ride from the gates of Restov."
"I shall grant you a charter to explore the Greenbelt, and you shall investigate the area to see if you can discover what is happening down there. The Greenbelt was omitted from the original list of exploration sites due to its lack of natural resources, and therefore its lack of strategic importance. As such, it is a land where you may operate rather freely, do not expect any of the formal reviews that the other explorations have to suffer through. That said, you shall be representing my personal interests, so please keep that in mind as you conduct yourselves. I shall send additional support if and when it becomes available."
"Do you have any questions?"
Standing quietly, but tall and proud, with his massive chest out, the muscular tiefling would be red with nervousness, if his skin were not already a bright, vibrant scarlet. Batlike wings are folded over his shoulders, though it looks as if they have tears, rifts taken in battle and scars that haven't quite healed. He stares ahead quietly, and blinks at the man, seeming like he's focusing on every word the noble speaks. After a long pause, he looks around quietly, and when nobody else speaks up, he clears his throat, a bit of a rumbling on the large fiend man, and in a deep bass voice speaks. "So...I can kill bandits...and you will give me money?"
Karlak seems like he's just trying to figure out what's going on here, and is way too distracted to see anything the man is trying to hide.
Make mom proud. Do good. Bandits are bad. Sounds like an easy job. I miss mom. She'd know what to do.
"It seems to me that a decline in banditry should be a good thing, but it does beg the question of whether there is a greater threat, perhaps preying on the bandits. This sounds like worthy work, as well as a chance to see something new. I would gladly accept such a charter"
The chatty bird on Lemnis's shoulder puffs up at Lord Malwen's abrupt manner.
"This seems a bit too easy. What aren't you telling us?
Leo had always hated the city. Too many buildings. Too many distractions. Too many places for something to hide. Too many people. Out in the wild, things made sense. Animals and nature made sense. Hell, even the folks that lived near the wilds made some sense. Eat, sleep, love, and play. People in the city though? They seemed to always be scheming. Trying to get something from someone else. Or put a knife in someone's back.
The graying half-elf had taken one of the empty seats and after fidgeting for a minute, hopped up and paced to the far wall. There he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms.
Just as Leo was begging to get restless again, the door opened and in walked the High Magister.
He grunted in agreeance with the strange bird before he even realized. He stared at the bird out of the side of his eye.
The man in the jester costume looked at the talking bird and slowly broke into a wide grin. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
He tapped the tip of his mask's nose. "The bird has a point though. Can you tell us anything about what is going on there? If you want us to succeed, forewarned is forearmed."
Szemyan thinks to himself for a moment, and frowns.
"It sounds like you want us to investigate an area because... because nothing is happening there."
"That sounds like one of my father's ideas. He didn't put you up to this, did he? I keep telling him I don't need his coddling."
Szemyan sighs.
"Yes, deny it if you must. I'll do your little errand for you. I was getting bored of Restov anyway."
The tiefling's eyes open wide at the talking bird and his jaw drops, only momentarily. He walks up to the familiar and blinks again, tilting his head and staring at it in amazement. He looks at Lemnis, and quietly whispers "That is so...cool! Can I give your friend a treat? Mom used to let me feed the horses sugar. But do you like rations, Mr. Bird?"
A forked tongue sticks out to the side in deep concentration as he starts to dig in his bag for food.
And just as easily as the noble had his attention, the talking bird stole it. "I like birds. Do you know the woodpecker outside mom's cabin? I used to dig worms up for him..."
At this point, Karlak, enamored with the talking bird, is a bit ignorant to the task at hand.
"The bandits are thinning out? Well that is interesting." Andelis murmured quietly as she opened the book on her lap and began to write in it. Master always said that the bandits were as thick as thieves in the Greenbelt. He had to pay them an exorbitant amount of money to be able to operate freely without being harassed. Whatever has shifted may be worth cataloging.
Remembering the task at hand, she thought back over the magister's words.
.
With an appraising look, she addressed the magister "Bandits don't just stop for no reason, obviously. I wager you have some guess as to why that is the case here, or I'm a goblin. Anything you share with us now would improve our chances of success by a fair amount.
"Okay, but don't give him too much. I don't want him to get fat. Say, could I have some too? Rations are fine, especially if you have any dried fruit or berries in there...
The little bird flutters over to Karlak's shoulder to help look in the bag.
"What? Mom's cabin? Sure, redheaded guy, yeah? About that treat..."
Lemnis smiles at his cheeky little friend.
"Ornil speaks for himself, as you can see. Thank you for your consideration."
Nodding gratitude to Karlak, he turns his attention again to the Magister.
"Indeed, he and the jester both make a point. Any additional information you give us will only contribute to our success, to everyone's mutual benefit."
Lord Malwen considers the conversation, "I was hoping that I would get your unbiased conclusions after investigating, but since you all insist."
"There are two other items of interest. The first is that a number of auguries have started revealing dark times ahead for Restov and Brevoy. No details, of course, but most involve images and impressions of darkness and cold. Not much to go on, I'm afraid. As for the second..."
He retrieves a small box from a table near the door. Malwen hands the box to Karlak, then opens it and removes what looks to be a glass sphere about six inches in diameter. He slowly walks around to make sure everyone gets a chance to see it.
The sphere appears to be made of some kind of thin glass, though it does not reflect any images. A small square hole is located on one "side" of the sphere, and it contains a couple of inches of some kind of viscous slime.
"This was discovered two years ago during an expedition to the south. We are unfamiliar with the material that comprises this sphere, and we are also unfamiliar with the slime contained within. Many have tried to determine the answers to these riddles, but all have failed. Their identification defies our most powerful spells and most devout prayers. We only know two things for certain: 1. the sphere is not of this natural world, and 2. something was inside of it when it arrived."
Malwen places the sphere back in the box and gestures for Karlak to put the box back on the table.
"You are now part of a small group of trusted people that know about that sphere. And no, I do not know for certain that the sphere, or whatever came in it, is related to current events in the Greenbelt, but I don't like coincidences. And this is a very big coincidence."
"But to answer a more pointed question," he gestures to Karlak but looks at the rest of you, "killing bandits is fine, but the real question is what's happening down there. To that end, I will provide a rough map of the Greenbelt. In your travels, I expect your group to verify its accuracy, as well as note any locations of interest. That is what is expected to earn your pay."
Malwen glances at Szemyan, "The mission I send you on is not some 'little errand' concocted for your amusement. Your father attempted to speak with me about your inclusion in this group, but I had my secretary ignore his requests. Your father's concerns are so far below my level of interest, I cannot even be bothered to hear them. Assuming I am, in any way, in league with him where you are concerned is a big mistake."
He looks around, "Any other questions?"
Szemyan shrugs.
The Baron Zolstoy is beneath his notice? Or is this just an act? My father always tells me I have to 'take things more seriously.' Perhaps this gravitas is to that end?
"My father's over-protectiveness doesn't amuse me, I assure you. He thinks to 'keep me out of trouble' with his meddling. Did he ask you to include me in this expedition? Or to not include me?"
Szemyan waves his hand dismissively.
"Never mind. I'd rather not know. But if you truly ignored him you are doing me a favor."
"So... let me be sure I understand. At some point in the past prior to two years ago, something from beyond this world that is slimy and about six inches wide arrived in that ball, and is now possibly somewhere in the greenbelt, assuming that the empty ball was not moved before your people found it. If we find this... thing from beyond, and recognize it for what it is, do we... what? Bring it back to you?"
"If we find it, we will recognize it." the jester said.
Weird orbs. Weird goop. And the guy who knows the most seemed to know very little. Leo pushed off of the wall with his elbows and pointed at the sickly looking man...Samsaran?....Samsarman?...
”Th’ kids gotta point. Seems a bit ofa stretch,” Leo paused and scratched the gray part of his beard, ”But, it seems like each of us has been given a second chance ta get out inta them wilds, an’ I ain't one ta look a gift hippogriff in th’ mouth.”
Leo looked at the box once more and took a deep breath, ”I spose I'm in.”
Andelis shakes her head as she looks at the crystal sphere. "Slime is common enough in the Great Beyond, particularly the Abyss, Abbadon, or the Hells, but Darkness and Cold aren't common elements of those realms." She says matter of factly. "Whatever this is, may well be beyond my expertise. Whether this is from the Great Beyond or not, if it is not of this world it is certainly worth researching."
"Agreed. The pursuit of knowledge, combined with the opportunity to ensure the safety of others and possibly secure political favor are each reason enough for this undertaking. I will accept your charter."
"Be warned. Dark times are ahead. You all will...we, we will have a chance to bring light to the darkness. One of you...of us, will rise above all and become a beacon to others...to all. Yet it will not come without cost. The price will be great, paid in blood, in bodies...of friends, of loved ones, and of innocents.
Make no mistake, this is no simple expedition. What we will find, what we will see, will scar you to the bone. What we will see, will never leave our sight. There is more to this journey than just bandits. Do not tread lightly, or you will not return."
With that, the halfling woman slid off of her chair and landed on her feet with a quiet thump. She looked around the room at each person present.
"Well, what are we waiting for? The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive. What? Someone has to guide you" she said with a smile.
The tiefling fishes out some hard tack and breaks off a piece for the bird. "My name is Karlak. This is all I have to eat. If I find some berries I will tell you." His ears twitch at the word Abyss, and he suddenly gets defensive.
"I didn't do anything. I'm here to help. I know I look like a bad person, but I'm not." Eyes narrow, and his knuckles crack as he prepares to dodge thrown stones or rotten fruit, as usual on trips to town, but when none comes he visibly relaxes.
Could these be nice people? Seems like it. Hope so.
Karlak scoops up his backpack and steps up before the old halfling and nods. "Yes ma'am. Ready, ma'am. "
"Slime is common enough..."
"I'm no expert either, but it is possible that the object we are looking for was merely coated in some kind of slime. Possibly a preservative, or lubricant, or natural by-product."
"... What? Someone has to guide you" she said with a smile.
Szemyan stands up, surprised.
"You know where this thing is?"
"Like a fisherman on a lake my dear. It shouldn't be too hard to locate. It is fairly unique. We just need the right...bait, if you will, to draw it out. But don't worry too much about that right now. We have a long way to go before we get there. As a matter of fact, I'm sure we can discuss most of this on the way. We should be off now, unless you have other business to conclude in the city" she finished, looking at each one gathered in turn.
"I didn't do anything. I'm here to help. I know I look like a bad person, but I'm not." Eyes narrow, and his knuckles crack as he prepares to dodge thrown stones or rotten fruit, as usual on trips to town, but when none comes he visibly relaxes.
"What someone looks like and who they really are don't often have anything to do with each other." the jester shrugged.
"Quite right my friend. Karlak here is a good man. His mother is so proud of him." She turns and look directly at the tiefling.
"You should be proud of yourself too. You are very brave, and such a big heart. You're going do to wonderful things before our time together is over. Just remember your manners and you'll be fine" she says as she reaches out to take his hand.
"Such strong hands. Hands of a warrior. You will find yourself...your calling, very soon."
The jester raised an eyebrow at the little woman. He'd seen plenty of cold readings before. He'd even seen a few genuine aura readers and mediums. No telling what version of that gimmick she really had up her sleeve. Not yet at least.
"Oh! Do me next!" he grinned.
”So this is th’ crew,” Leo thought as he watched the halfling woman divine information and the others’ reactions to her.
All in all, they looked like they could get along well in the wilds. He glanced at the jester, pinched the bridge of his nose and thought, ”Even if’n some look as unprepared as a tortoise without its shell.”
Leo sighed and snatched up his pack from the floor next to him, ”Sooner we get to gettin’ the better. We c’n read each other's palms on the way.” The words came out a bit harsher than he had intended but, the walls were beginning to get to Leo and he was antsy to be outside of the city.
"Oh very well. If you insist" she said as she reached out to take the young man's hand. She expected the palm of his hand before turning it over and looking at the top, then she turned it back over again.
"You are quite the talent, yes, quite the talent indeed. Although I fear you have lost a part of yourself. Do not fret. You will find it again."
Suddenly, she pulled the man lower to whisper in his ear.
"Don't worry. There are always monsters in the dark. If there were no monsters, the world wouldn't need heroes."
Karlak blinks and remains silent at the halfling's reading and steels his jaw at the mention of his mother, holding in the emotions at the thought of her. Gideon's comment causes pause, and he nods. Leo's gruff attitude doesn't seem to bother the tiefling. In fact it reminded him of the butcher in the town he used to visit, angry for some reason, in the butcher's case usually his wife, but inevitably not a bad sort - he didn't even charge Karlak the "demon tax" the general store did...
The jester looked like he'd taken a bite of an apple and found half a worm. He coughed to clear his throat and got up to follow the fellow with the thick accent, purposefully taking long strides so the halfling soothsayer would have trouble keeping up.
Doesn't mean she's the real deal. Maybe she's just really good at cold readings. Wonder what she'd do if I gave her my hand again but with her own damn palm...
Lemnis shifts position where he stands serenely smiling as Ornil flutters back to his shoulder, beak full of bread. The motions are so seamless and simultaneous it is difficult to tell which of them initiated it.
This shall indeed be an interesting trip. What fascinating people.
Looking over her notes one last time, Andelis rises from her chair and stretches slightly. "I suppose it would not hurt to consider what supplies we might need? Foodstuffs and water, as well as a mule or two to carry them might not be amiss. Particularly if we find somewhere to set up a base camp. Speaking of which, my dear Lord Magister, do you have any suggestions on a good place in the Greenlands to start?"
Lord Malwen nods as the gathering begins talking of departing. "I have prepared several documents for you." He hands a small satchel to Lemnis.
"Inside are charters signed for each of you. They give you some official license to move around and explore the region. I have also included a map of the area I want you to focus on - it's known as the Greenbelt. And fair warning, the map may not be entirely accurate since it's been a while from the last cartographer's survey."
"If you are ready, then I wish you good luck. Should you need to contact me, simply leave a message with any of the Lord Mayor's guard. Just be sure to say it's a 'Special Holiday Message for Lord Malwen' - that's to make certain they get it to me right away. And if I may make a suggestion, you should stop at Oleg's Trading Post when you arrive in the region. Oleg is a former soldier who runs a trading post on the road that runs through the area. He may be able to help you with some of these mysteries we're facing."
Lord Malwen steps out of the room and moves deeper into the house. A servant comes to the door and indicates it's time to depart.
Lemnis passes the charters out to everyone and shows them the map. Then he dons the satchel and gathers his belongings, getting ready for the trip ahead.
Karlak takes his copy of the charter and begins to read it semi-silently, a finger following the lines as you can hear him sounding out the longer, more esoteric language in a quiet whisper. "...rep-re-sent-a-tives...im-in-int domain?" He frowns, but seeing that the others seem to understand, he plays along. "I think I know Mr. Oleg. I haven't gone to his shop in a long time. Years."
Leo took his copy or the charter and read through it, bobbing his head side to side in agreement when he got to the part regarding the size of the area to be explored. Deciding that, all things considered, that was a good amount of land to get lost in.
The words ”unrepentant banditry” burned in Leo’s mind as he folded the charter and slipped it into a pocket just above his right hip. ”That there's the difference,” he thought, ”repentance.”
Karlak struggling with the words caused a chuckle from Leo. One that he wasn't entirely able to suppress, ”Well alright then, Red,” he clapped a hand on the tiefling’s massive shoulder, ”You get ta be our diplomat. 'Cause Oleg’s sure as s!@$ gonna remember you.”
"Restov is not far from the frontier... I am sure there are a few outfitters here in town that can help us before we get underway. I already have a horse but I suppose I could get a few things before we set out."
"This Oleg may be a good start. If he lives out there he may be able to tell us what is going on."
Andelis nods in Szemyan's direction. "I agree. Even if Oleg doesn't know what is going on, he probably knows who will."
The trip to Oleg's Trading Post passes quickly and uneventfully. The mounted Br Vic patrols you pass no doubt providing enough security to keep all but the most desperate bandits far away from the road.
You see Oleg's mid-morning on the third day after leaving Restov. Twelve-foot wooden walls surround three interior buildings. Square towers on the corners of the fort provide clear sight for miles, and you can make out what appear to be ballista on two of them. Seeing no other entrance, your group heads toward the large gate on the north side of the fort.
You arrive to find the gate partially open, wide enough for you to pass single file into the courtyard. A young human man shuffles out of the stables to meet you. Bobbing his head and bowing several times, he says, "Good'day, mi'lords and ladies. Welcome, welcome. Here for some trade? I will fetch the mistress, I will."
Once outside the limits of Restov, it had not taken long for the shift in Leo’s demeanor to occur. It would still have been a stretch to say that he was friendlier but, it was as if a great burden had been taken from him. Which, in turn, afforded Leo with more patience for his traveling mates. He even made extra coffee on the second morning - though he made no effort to to inform anyone.
”If they want some, they’ll ask,” he had thought to himself before shrugging and dinking the last of the lukewarm coffee.
————
Leo blinked at the young man and looked around the courtyard, waiting for one of the others to speak up.
As the group had traveled, Gideon had been chatty and entertaining, making frequent jokes and telling humorous legends to pass the time. His knack for voices and animal sounds during his stories was impressive.
The jester's outfit had been changed out for a more sensible travel garb with a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face and a hood up, ostensibly to ward off the cold, but after a few days it began to dawn on the group that he seemed to be hiding his face.
When they arrived at Oleg's, he slid his Charter over the counter and said "Are you Oleg? We'll need rooms, some basic supplies, and any information that might help us out. I'm Gideon. The rest of our ragtag group of explorers are Andelis, Szemyan, Mac, Karlak, Lemnis, and Cas. We were told you we the guy to talk to around here."
It had been a long couple of days for the Halfling woman. She didn't move as quickly as the others and after it while it became clear that she was slowing them down. It didn't seem to bother them too badly, there was no tremendous rush, yet she still felt bad. With help, she managed to climb atop Rufus, her mule, and ride part of the way. At least then her feet didn't hurt as bad. She was glad when they finally arrived at Oleg's. She was accustomed to city life. This was going to be an arduous adventure at best, but they were going to need her, even if they didn't realize it yet.
As Gideon introduced the new arrivals, Mama said nothing. She simply smiled and waved when her name was mentioned.
Szemyan looks at Gideon.
"Oleg? Surely this is some varlet. Oleg would be the man in charge, would he not?"
He turns to the man, and hands him a gold piece.
"Here you go, my good man. Once you've notified the 'mistress,' see to the animals, will you?"
Lemnis removes his pack and sets it at his feet, ready to swing it back onto his shoulders when needed. He nods in greeting to the man who welcomed them, and if Mama Cas is mounted he offers her a hand down.
Gideon's jokes and legends had made the trip pleasantly entertaining. Lemnis envied the odd man's facility with sound effects. Lemnis could only manage a frog and and elephant, himself.
"Ornil, survey the area if you would. Keep an eye out for the usual." The little bird flutters off and dwindles to a dot as he climbs high and circles the area.
Andelis looks around the fort curiously as the others begin speaking to the man. She notices Gideon's decision not to immediately mention their charter and mission, and Szemyan's assumptions and treatment of the fellow greeting them. She decides to quickly make a note in her journal before speaking herself. Our first stop is Oleg's trading post, which appears to be a re-purposed border fort. This could certainly be an excellent location for a base camp, especially if the ballistae are operational. A side note, Gideon seems to possess some wisdom, although his choice to never reveal his face is a bit disconcerting. It is clear that Szemyan has never been outside of a major city. Nor does he understand how to treat frontier folk.
Looking up from her notes, she smiles down at the man before her. "Oleg, I presume? Well met. What news of the Narlmarches? And, you wouldn't happen to have a bathhouse, by chance?