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Jann nods as the others speak, clearly not very engaged in the conversation, possibly due to the fact that's intently studying a spot on the ceiling that doesn't seem to have anything interesting about it. He nods at Denair. "Travel broadens the mind and loosens the soul. At least the parts that the parasites don't eat. But you're mostly soul anyway, so maybe you wouldn't notice it if they nibbled a bit on you."
He nods at Denair. "Travel broadens the mind and loosens the soul. At least the parts that the parasites don't eat. But you're mostly soul anyway, so maybe you wouldn't notice it if they nibbled a bit on you."
A smile grows on Denair's face. "That's what I tell the boss- we're all nibbling on each other, so it's OK if a bug nibbles on my hair."
Aya shifts uncomfortably at the odd conversation beginning to take shape in her office and decides to put a quick end to it by sending the strange people on their way. "Yes, well, time is wasting and Sharrowsmith's life is in ever more peril the longer you linger here. Best to be on your way." The merchant ushers you out of her office and directs back toward the docks. Along the way, you are able to make any last-minute purchases you need to complete and, boarding a few canoes (and a somewhat larger river barge that will fit Ser Willem's horse, you make your way downriver.
After another day or two of river travel, your small vessels reach the settlement of Fort Bandu. The fort is a small frontier settlement, surrounded by high stone walls, located on the northern edge of Sargava. Within the fort’s walls, dozens of mining companies maintain outposts out of pavilion tents, hiring laborers and purchasing necessary supplies brought in by merchants from the north, south, and west. The fort holds a garrison of 150 soldiers that struggle to maintain balance of defense on the frontier and protection for the miners and traders within its walls.
The atmosphere in the settlement is noticeably tense as you disembark, and even the few locals who greeted you upon your arrival have quickly moved on to other business. Various merchant stalls and tents are open along the road leading from the river’s edge to the fort’s open gates. Their goods consist primarily of basic mining and wilderness supplies, though a few stalls do offer exotic-looking fruits and unfamiliar meats from the local fauna.
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"Huh. You could cut the tension with a knife." Meredith looks around the settlement. "Winds of the world, assist my every call!" Meredith calls upon the world to grant her control of an unseen servant. "Just in case we need to retrieve equipment quickly."
She also casts message on the party. "You can whisper messages between us now. It's pretty quiet, most people can't hear it."
Denair is quiet as usual, observing everyone's behavior. "Yeah, also everyone's really nervous!"
Meredith shrugs. "Let's find the leader, quickly. Excuse me sir, where is Praetor Sylien? We have urgent business."
A gruff older man looks up from the game board his has set up next to his stall and looks you over. "Whassat? Lookin' fer the Praetor, are ya? Ah well he's in the garrison, o' course. Why? What business ha' ya with 'em, young lady?"
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By the time they reach the fort, Laiashi is dressed in long silks that permit the occasional cool breeze while protecting her skin from the sun , even though she never actually changed clothes. Prudence dictates, however, that she keep her chain link armor on underneath.
She deems it best to once again adopt the veneer of being a non-Pathfinder and clings to Farshaya's arm, hoping the dwarf will either play along or enjoy the attention too much to mind. "Oh look, a fruit stand!" she says in a feminine tone. "Buy me a fruit, will you? Gods, these men all look so busy..."
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Farshaya's grins broadly, his face framed by azure wrappings to keep the sun from his head. "Well now, lover-girl, da Freewheeler do like this dance. I know this step, and I think I got tha rhythm in my head, I do." He steps lightly beside his new companion, arm in arm. He selects two bright yellow fruits shaped like a star, passing the coppers to the merchant with a wink. He tosses one to Laiashi, noting with approval that she catches it effortlessly with one hand.
"Aye, pretty girl, we're on the edge of men's land now. An' we 'bout to dive beyond it."
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Laishai seems like a different woman as soon as they step onto the garrison compound. Meredith starts to wonder what this woman's truth is, but Denair seems absolutely delighted.
A gruff older man looks up from the game board his has set up next to his stall and looks you over. "Whassat? Lookin' fer the Praetor, are ya? Ah well he's in the garrison, o' course. Why? What business ha' ya with 'em, young lady?"
"The garrison? Great. We were looking for Nieford Sharrowsmith and heard he spoke to the Praetor. We'll look over there. Thanks for everything."
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Paying little attention to the locals, Ser Willem moves ahead and ties Des to a nearby hitching post before heading straight to the garrison. Praetor was an old Taldane term that meant 'guardian of the people', so he knew exactly where to find the man. Willem wanted to get this over with quickly and the gods-damned heat wasn't helping. He didn't say as much, but he did appreciate Merdith's casting of power over him. It helped a little.
As he approaches the gate to the garrison, he stands tall and addresses the guards. "Representatives from the Pathfinder Society to see Praetor Sylien. We have been summoned." He sweeps his hand behind him to indicate his companions as well.
"The garrison? Great. We were looking for Nieford Sharrowsmith and heard he spoke to the Praetor. We'll look over there. Thanks for everything."
The old man's eyes suddenly go wide, then narrow angrily at Meredith. He stands and snatches up his game board and begins bustling up his shop. "Sharrowsmith, eh? He's that Pathfinder what came through here and caused all the troubles of late. We don't need any more o' that here, young lady. You best move along. Go talk t' the Praetor if ya've got ta, but leave me in peace." With his stall closed to the Pathfinders, the old man rushes off to spread the news that more Pathfinders have come. As he moves from stall to stall, the businesses begin to close up, falling like dominoes as word travels through the settlement.
As he approaches the gate to the garrison, he stands tall and addresses the guards. "Representatives from the Pathfinder Society to see Praetor Sylien. We have been summoned." He sweeps his hand behind him to indicate his companions as well.
Both of the guards standing post at the gate straighten up as Ser Willem approaches, his air of authority clearly making an impression. When he announces their identities, however, the taller of the two men looks to his shorter compatriot and nods him inside. The smaller guard leaves his post and rushes through the gate.
"So, Pathfinders are you?" the taller guard asks, his posture no longer showing the respect he had so recently thought to display. "Don't suppose you're here expecting a parade are you? That'd be best, cause you're not gonna get one from these folks. You Pathfinders have done enough harm of late. Best to let the Praetor decide what to do with you, though. Come on." The guard clicks the haft of his spear and motions for you to follow him inside. He escorts you to the praetor’s office, a modest and utilitarian space comprised of several tables and a handful of half-stocked bookshelves. A war table featuring a map of the Bandu Hills region sits prominently in the center of the room, and three tall windows nearby let in a great deal of natural light.
As you enter, Praetor Sylien is in mid-conversation with a lanky Garundi man in fine attire. Their conversation stops abruptly, and the praetor’s guest disdainfully glares at the latest arrivals. “Pathfinders. I shouldn’t be surprised. Only your organization would have the gall to so brazenly show its face when you’ve already caused so much damage.”
“Pathfinders,” the praetor’s voice lacks the contempt of his guest, as if trying to subtly apologize for his tone. “This is Amersanus Valacosti of the Aspis Consortium. We’ve been discussing the troubles Fort Bandu has faced of late—troubles caused by your organization. I was unwilling to disclose the details to Mistress Allahe by courier, but now that you have arrived, I feel it pertinent to explain the nature of Fort Bandu’s… misgivings. Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith came through here some months ago, gathering supplies and information before setting off on an expedition into the hills. There, he roused the local kobold tribes and angered them enough that they now actively raid our settlements and mining operations." The half-elf waves a hand at the map to indicate some of the locations he describes, then goes on.
“Amersanus Valacosti and I were discussing how the Aspis Consortium may be able to help repair the damage your Society has inflicted on the people of Fort Bandu. Now that you’ve arrived, perhaps we can have a more balanced mediation. Your Pathfinder Society has a damaged reputation in the Bandu Hills, so I ask you state your business and why you think I should allow you to even so much as stay within the fort’s walls. What knowledge do you have of this land and its people that could prevent this situation from deteriorating further? I will only entertain questions
regarding Sharrowsmith once I’m assured that providing you information will not further endanger my charges.”
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Jann nods. "Yes, it may have been Sharrowsmith's doing. But as you know the geopolitical history of the area makes it far more likely that a small event, like the mining guild's inadvertant insult to the Great Glau of the Fang-Horn Kobold tribe back in '32. As you recall, the mining guild tapped into a sacred vein, unknown to them of course of its sacred nature to the Fang-Horns, and caused a minor war when they sought to defend themselves against the hordes of kobold ascetics. Perhaps your miners have once more dug into sacred ore again?"
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"Well, thanks mister..." the store owner is gone by now, spreading word of the party's arrival. "Yup, we're at the right place. I'm happy I bought that carrot before I started talking to him."
Watching the guard's reputation sour as soon as they mention Pathfinders, Meredith shrugs. "Everyone seems rather mad at us, but we haven't done nothing yet. Now I'm really curious."
As soon as the Praetor mentions Aspis, a scowl forms across Meredith's face. Aspis. They tried to run Little Frankie through and kill us all when we were in the Shrine of the Failed... I wouldn't have survived if not for them.
"Mister- I mean Praetor. I am sorry to hear about the kobold trades that have put your settlements on edge. It looks like Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith has not returned from his journey, so I'm not sure he's behind the kobold raids." She glares at Amersanus Valacosti. "Heck, maybe he's trying to slow the kobolds down after someone else agitated them. We are here on a search and rescue mission, plain and simple. We're trying to cause the least amount of disruption to the wildlife here."
She walks up to the map. "Unseen servant, get over here and point at the map with this stick, eh? I think the quickest and least invasive route through the through the Bandu Hills will take us... here. And here. This is probably a nest so we will detour around here. And he might have taken shelter here." Meredith points waypoints on the map, and the unseen servant traces a line with the stick.
She turns to the Fox/tree hybrid. "Hey Denair, what do you know about the animals here?"
"Well, some of the predators travel in packs through open plains. Because of the warmth and humidity, it's easy to find water however they must constantly consume it. This also means that metabolisms are high, and they have to eat a lot of prey. Um,This is kind of my first time here so, so I don't remember all the details." Denair seems pensive and nonspeciifc. Meredith looks at her, slightly disappointed. "Sorry!"
"Nah, it's alright, you know more than I do about wildlife." Meredith comforts her.
"Just tell me if you think we've convinced the Praetor we're not dangerous." Meredith whispers.
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Ser Willem makes no noticable face at the disrespect from the guards or from the Praetor, instead, he keeps his noble bearing and continues, allowing his companions to explain the situation before adding his own.
"That said, I can assure you, once we have Sharrowsmith in our custody," he chose his words carefully to empathize with the Praetor, "We will see to him attending to making reparations due to his stomping around your home and place of business. We have no ill will with you, we are simply tasked with the purpose of retrieving something lost to us. Once we get him back, your losses will come to light and agreeable payments will be made. Your friend, with the Consortium will tell you the same, but our reputation is based on honest dealings with honest men and we trust you to be honest, as you can with us. Simply allow us passage and to swell your coffers with our money for gear, and we will make this happen as quickly and conveniently as possible."
Willem smiled and bowed, the veiled threat to the Consortium member already working its way in..
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Isn't that lovely, Laiashi thinks when the mention of the word 'Pathfinders' turns the town hostile almost instantly. I guess I'm less than vilified by this act of mine, since I'm with them anyway.
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"I believe we can avoid any more regional conflicts," Laiashi says, dropping her veneer of being an accessory. She quickly wracks her brain for information regarding the current situation. "We're well aware of the situation between Deeptreasure Mining and the Gold Crowns, as well as the kobold tribes that have been stirred up-- information Sharrowsmith may not have had, which could explain his... blundering."
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Valacosti grows increasingly incensed as the Pathfinders explain their case. “Sharrowsmith professed an intimate understanding of the region and its delicate balance of power as well, and behold the results: dozens dead, dozens more missing, kobolds attacking our mining operations, and people living in fear of the next raid. Praetor, with all due respect, you cannot allow these Pathfinders to exacerbate an already delicate situation.”
The praetor remains patient. “Amersanus makes a good point. Sharrowsmith was a well-read and knowledgeable man, yet he disappeared in these jungles and caused damage we’re only beginning to feel the impact of thanks to the local kobold tribes. How is your expedition different? Do you have the necessary strength to survive in this environment where so many others cannot? Show me that those weapons and spellbooks you carry are not just for show.”
Denair can easily perceive that the praetor feels some sense of relief at hearing how knowledgeable these Pathfinders are about the region, and he is impressed by the nobility of Ser Willem. He still has some reservations, however, especially given the reasonable counter-arguments presented by Valacosti. There are more questions to address yet before he will give his blessing to the Pathfinders' expedition to rescue Sharrowsmith.
Denair stares at Ser Willem. "Yay! We're getting a chance to prove ourselves. Go swing your sword or something!"
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Jann nods. "We are many where Sharrowsmith was one. In fact, one of us is many at the same time as one." He looks at the elf, nodding. "I myself am food for the dark masters who one day will devour us all. But I expect Ser Willem will show you his martial prowess. But if that doesn't impress you, I can offer you the gift of utter madness, Amersanus. Once you've seen the bitter end of all things, you will see that names and labels are mere condiments on the sandwich of life, which is made of bitter ashes and deep, deep regret."
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"Ho, ho!" Farshaya nearly cackles when asked to prove their mettle. "Tha Freewheeler dun' need no spellbook to bring pain upon our enemy." He launches himself up on his hands in what might have been a graceful and impressive handstand, except his new silks spill down over his face and cause him to bumble into a chaise. He tumbles clumsily to the ground, tearing at the garment to reveal a beet red face. "Who put that chair there?!"
“Is this supposed to make an impression?” Valacosti is quick to dismiss Farshaya's fumbling display. “If you think this situation can be solved at the point of a sword or by brandishing some hedge wizardry, you’re as ignorant as your predecessor. These Pathfinders will rush headlong into the jungle and slaughter the kobold tribe, creating a power vacuum among the other tribes and only worsen this disaster.”
Again, the praetor tries to remain impartial, though it is clear his patience is waning. “Once more I find myself seeing reason in Valacosti’s words. Strength of arms is all well and good, but this is a situation that also requires a certain amount of finesse. How do I know I can trust you to handle this situation with a level head and a delicate touch when necessary?”
Denair claps, delighted and impressed with Farshaya's antics. "Do it again, do it again!" Only Meredith's stern gaze manages to calm her down.
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"Oh, sweetheart," Laiashi says to Valacosti, moving slowly over to him. "I hope you don't mean that. It's been hard trying to pick up the pieces Sharrowsmith left behind, I can tell." She reaches the Aspis agent and caresses his upper arm. "So hard," she purs. "And even a strong man like you can only do so much by yourself. You need someone who's gentle, and someone who's... quick." Her wrist flashes, and a dagger appears at the man's throat. She smiles mischievously and steps backward, arm extended, leaving the blade where it is for a moment, before pulling it away. She didn't get many chances to show off, so she takes the opportunity to enjoy herself.
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Seeing what was happening, Ser Willem could only watch with a slight smirk at Laiashi did her work. That was bound to impress the Praetor, if not the Aspis agent. At least Valacosti would know fear today...
"As you can see, we are comprised of many talents, but the are better spent pursuing our task than for entertaining your guest I think."He pauses. "We are not interested in starting a war between the tribes and your people or between the tribes themselves, though if you think about it, brokering a deal between a tribe and yourselves could give you protection from the others, but that is another matter for you to attend to. I digress. Let us not waste time with theatrics."
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"Reminds me of when we toppled the Red Council. 10 mad wizards, planning to flex their explosive power upon Absalom." She points to Laishai, and Denair uses prestidigitation to cause her hair to glow, briefly. "Laishai distracted them long enough for Farshaya to steal their magical reagents. By the time they noticed something was up, Denair and I acted as bait and lured them straight to the town guard. Ser Dargerion had the influence and the evidence to get them arrested and convicted."
Meredith keeps a straight face, recalling facts that aren't, with Denair using her magic to highlight each party member. "Jann and Sartinen gave us a lot of intel and foresight to pull it off, I can't forget them."
She waits to read their reactions.
"Well, that was a tall tale, but as you can see, we can be very subtle when we need to be. I'm not planning to slaughter any kobold tribes. Like I said, we're looking for the least invasive way to get Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith out of here."
Visibly frustrated and upset by Laiashi's display of her talents, Valacosti gulps loudly, then appeals one last time to Sylien. “Praetor. I implore you, send these Pathfinders back from where they came from. This is neither the place nor the time for their presence. For the sake of the people of Fort Bandu, do not let them worsen this situation.”
With reluctance, the praetor acknowledges the Pathfinders with a slow nod. Then, after a brief glance to Valacosti, he appears ready to make his decision.
With a reserved sigh, the praetor relents. “As the Pathfinders are responsible for getting us into this mess, I see it fitting that we give them the chance to remedy the situation. I’m putting my faith in you, and the lives of the people in Fort Bandu. I pray that you don’t betray that trust, for the consequences could be quite dire for all who call this home.”
“Most unfortunate,” Valacosti observes with disappointment that gives way to menacing resolve. “I believe you are making a grave mistake by placing any faith in these glorified tomb robbers, praetor. Once they fail, remember that the Aspis Consortium has extended a generous offer of aid in this troubling time. One can only hope that this Pathfinder experiment does not exacerbate the situation further and necessitate our renegotiating the terms.” The Aspis agent dramatically swishes his cloak and storms out of the room, leaving you alone with Praetor Sylien.
The praetor frowns deeply at Valacosti's departure, but speaks no further of him as he turns to you and fills you in on Sharrowsmith's last known whereabouts. "The Venture Captain came through here some weeks ago, speaking of some ancient dwarven city that he was seeking out, up in the Hills. From what my men have gathered from some of the merchants and townsfolk here, Sharrowsmith's last known location was at a Gold Crown mining operation approximately 20 miles away. He probably took this trail here, at least that's the quickest way." He strides over to the large map spread across his central table and indicates a forest road that travels west, then north into the Bandu Hills. A small image of a crown along the path indicates the location of the camp. "I'm not sure if he's likely to be there, or if the people at the camp will be able to tell you any more than I have, but that's the next place to check." He steps away from the table and looks you all over for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. He turns and digs into a small chest at the foot of his simple cot, then pulls out handful of vials. "Here, the Hills between here and the camp are known for killing less folk than you lot with heat exhaustion, but even the greatest among us can suffer the sun sometimes. Take these. They'll help."
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"Yeah, I'm sure you can't wait to 'aid' this place, ya snake...." Meredith grumbles as Valacosti leaves. Denair gives her a worried look that calms her down.
"Thank you for your gifts, and your permission Praetor. This will help out a lot against the heat. We'll visit the mine and see what we can find. Hopefully we can get him out of there as soon as possible."
Once they leave the garrison, Meredith breathes a sigh of relief. "That snake in the grass Aspis... I'll pretend to be surprised when we confirm they're behind all of this. Probably kidnapped Sharrowsmith, agitated the kobolds, and are blaming the Parthfinders."
"Oh no! Why are all of these Aspis agents guarding Sharrowsmith? That's an Aspis agent disguised as a Pathfinder attacking the Kobold tribe! Oh, Aspis was trying to take control of the mining operation?" Meredith feigns surprise. "Let's hit the trail and go to the Gold Crown mining operation."
"And make sure you drink these potions once we hit the trail. We'll be protected from the intense heat for a day."
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Jann nods pleasantly at the Aspis man as he leaves dramatically. "I like that one. He wears his nature upon him like a glove. So many people try to avoid appearing to be a toadying boot-licker, but not that one! He embraces his boot-licking. Not that it will save him when the horrors from beyond come to devour this world. But until then? Very amusing."
The 20-mile journey to the Gold Crown mining operation in the Bandu Hills takes you across mostly level terrain following a well-worn trail into arid and rocky hills. The heat of the day is scorching, but the magic of the potions the praetor gave you keeps you reasonably comfortable. The mining camp is located in an isolated gorge in the shadow of sheer basalt cliffs. As you approach the entrance to the gorge, everyone except for Farshaya and Ser Willem notices the sickly sweet smell of clinging in the air in the gorge. By the time you come across the camp, however, the smell is overwhelmingly obvious, even to those who had missed it at first.
Hexagonal basalt columns scarred by mining tools line the walls of the gorge. The floor of the gorge is a patchwork of scrub grass and leafless vegetation flattened by frequent traffic. Wooden scaffolding, mining equipment, and trampled tents lie abandoned across the camp. Corpses of laborers rent limb from limb lay amidst the camp’s wreckage, and dried blood darkens the rocks. Several banners depicting a golden crown adorn the scaffolding.
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Saritirnen moves along slowly watching Jann with much disdain. He can even feel The Many recoil anytime he is forced to pass near the almost alien being.
When they make it to the camp site he must nod though at Jann's observation.
"Koblolds were said to have done this? That does not seem right. Perhaps we might find some signs of those that did this before moving along? It may not be what we were tasked with but the carnage here is unsettling."
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Meredith and Denair smell it immediately. "You're right Denair. Smells like blood. Go take a look." Denair nods then looks at Meredith expectantly. "Right, I almost forgot."
She pulls out a wand and taps Denair with it. A pattern of translucent rose thorns surround the fey. "Anyone else want some magical protection? Doesn't work if you have heavy armor."
Denair blends into the foliage, although she's not really paying attention.
Meredith pulls out her heavy mace. "Man...no wonder everyone's so upset. But yeah, Sartinen's right. No way did the kobolds do this." Meredith carefully approaches the quarry, looking for threats.
As Denair sneaks through foliage and Meredith looks down the slope of the gorge toward the camp, both of you notice that a couple of the heaped corpses are actually moving, seemingly hunched over a couple of the bodies lying in the center of the camp. At the moment, the creatures are distracted, busy feasting on the flesh of the dead, and so you are able to approach without drawing their attention, but for how long?
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Farshaya grins when Meredith touches him on the shoulder, the tingling sensation traveling down his spine. "No reason to try'n be silent now, mm? OOHA! Ayayayayayaya!" Farshaya lets loose a primal cry as he jumps and bounds down the slope after Willem. He slides across the blood-stained dirt, coming to rest directly beside the cavalier and sending a spray of debris before him. Both his fists rise, unarmed, as he readies himself for fisticuffs.
As you come upon the camp, several of you spring into action, some charging in to destroy the monstrous menace before you, while others add divine support to the attacks. The more tree-like among you continues to approach stealthily, ready to spring her leafy trap if the opportunity arises.
Ser Willem proves himself to be a true knight as he charges forward and slashes into the soft grayish flesh of the creature before him. The creature looked up at the knight just as the sword came arcing downward and sliced into its shoulder. The face looking up at Willem is something out of a nightmare. At one time, the creature might have been a man, but the intense heat and humidity of the jungle had taken their toll on the flesh, and most of the features have rotted beyond recognition. The creature does still wear some tattered clothing, however, and, next to the small insignia depicting a golden crown is scrawled in neat stitching, "Steve."
Denair spends her surprise action moving into position.