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You have been summoned to the Pathfinder lodge in Magnimar, the great City of Monuments (also known as the City of Secrets) in Varisia. The lodge, which is also the manor home of the local Venture-Captain, Sheila Heidmarch, is located within the prosperous Alabaster District of the city's wealthy Summit area. Upon arrival, each of you is ushered into the manor, past the library and lecture hall, through the showroom where ancient Thassilonian artifacts are displayed, and into the Venture-Captain's study. You arrive separately or together, all gathering in the room before the arrival of Madam Heidmarch. Through the windows of the study, a fine view of the great Irespan can be seen.
"Captain Heidmarch will join you shortly," advises her majordomo as the last of you arrives.
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Dorn stomps into the room somewhat like the metaphorical bull in the china shop- not that he's being intentionally destructive, merely that he seems ill-suited to quiet hallways and expensive furniture. He's kitted in full gear, which includes a battered and dinged breastplate, and several weapons are lashed to his pack, meaning that every time he turns, he runs the risk of knocking off some vase or crystal decanter from an end table.
He bears an aroma that suggests he has been drinking and eating and fighting in copious quantities, and has seen the bathhouse far less frequently. Though dwarves are, as a rule, relatively fastidious about their appearances, Dorn is... not, and the majordomo no doubt winced to see the dwarf scratching furiously at one ear and sending a flea or two off to jump onto the nice furniture.
Even for a dwarf, Dorn is heavily scarred, especially on his shaven head. His black beard is short and choppy and bears no clan-braids or ornaments. The only other major thing of note about him is a crudely-done tattoo on the back of one hand, in Dwarven runes.
He looks around, squinting fiercely, and then slinging off his pack and dropping heavily into a chair. he says to nobody in particular.
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Menes Strang is a tall osirion man dressed in the ceremonial trappings of a priest of one of the ancient gods of his home country.
He carries a long elaborate staff with a stylized jackal head on one end, which he seems to use more as a tool then a weapon.
He smiles in a friendly manner at those around him, though keeps glancing distractedly back the way they came.
"Do you suppose they'd mind if I popped back out to the library we passed on the way in?" He asks, absently, clearly pondering the prospect.
"I've been looking for the latest treatise on extra-planar anatomy by Lipodestes, and had hoped the libraries here might have acquired it."
"My first time in Magnimar," He adds, with a faint smile. "I've heard many things about the ancient Thassilonion monuments here. I do hope we have time to examine some of them before we go. Would be a shame to come all this way and miss the opportunity."
He frowns slightly, clearly saddened by the prospect.
"Oh, sorry, manners!" He continues with barely a breath, shifting gears to introduce himself. "Menes Strang. Doctor Menes Strang. Physician by training, scholar by inclination, adventurer by necessity." He grimaces slightly at that last... clearly more at home and suited to a library than a dungeon.
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Orophin flounces into the room and drapes himself artfully over a couch.
"Ahh, good to see you again, Probably."
He smiles to the rest of the group.
"Orophin Telemnarn! Singer, Lover of Life and Pathfinder. "
While he has a large morning star hanging from his belt, and he shows a reasonable amount of muscle, he lacks the scars or calloused hands that would indicate that he was an especially experienced warrior.
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A short, pretty human girl with long dark hair walks in. She has a bright and shining silvery breastplate, a lance nearly twice her height and an assortment of other weapons strapped to her back. Her armor, weapons and clothing all show signs of being well tended to. Whatever scars she might have are hidden under armor, clothes and gloves, her face remains unmarred. Right after her comes a large scaled beast. It reaches nearly up to her chest while still staying on all fours. The scales are black, though there is a section of white on it's underbelly.
With a bright smile the girl says. "Good day to you all! I'm Avril Axiel and this is my trusted companion Cryxial. I'm looking forward to working with you. Adventuring is so much more fun and rewarding than running a keep. Who would have thought it was so much paperwork? I can't for the life of me while someone would want to read books or such things all day rather than accomplish things." She looks over at the dwarf with an arched eyebrown. "Uh, I got some trail rations. Do you want? Usually it's a good idea to eat before going on a mission as we usually end up heading out right away."
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Dr. Strang glances up as Avril's mount lumbers into the room behind her.
"Oh my! Will you look at that." He exclaims, not at all put out by the etiquette of bringing the creature into the briefing room, but seemingly more interested in the eidolon itself.
"Fascinating!" He adds, as he gets up and goes over to inspect it more closely, not paying any attention at all to whether Cryxial cares for such up-close observations or what might happen if it doesn't.
Within moments, he has some sort of measuring string in hand, and busies himself taking measurements and mumbling strange terms to himself as he slowly moves around the beast.
"Lepidosauria? Similar taxonomy, certainly. Quadrate bone clearly motile..."
Noticing the glowing rune on the creature's head, he stops to examine it as well.
"Ah, of course! Not intraplanar at all."
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The renowned Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch strides into her study. Her eyes scan the space with habitual vigilance, honed by years of successful adventuring. Satisfied that there's nothing amiss, she stands behind her desk, and turns her blade-like attention to the party before her.
"The Pathfinder Society has long been interested in the First World—the otherworldly realm of the fey. By all accounts the fey homeland is dangerous, bizarre, and entirely unpredictable. It's the very type of place sane people avoid, and Pathfinders flock toward.
"Countless expeditions and research teams have been dispatched over the years to investigate regions where the boundaries between the First World and our own Plane grow threadbare. Sanos Forest, which lies to the east of here, is one such place. The Pathfinder Society's latest research party is currently stationed there, under the capable direction of the druid Ignizi Dinnelletter.
"Dinnelletter doesn't normally work well with others, but this time she's got several newly recruited Pathfinders assisting her. We thought it prudent that she pass on some of her best practices, just in case. After all, we Pathfinders are not known for our longevity. Dinnelletter is entirely self-sufficient, but unfortunately the same cannot be said for her five trainees. Consequently, Ignizi's station needs to be resupplied periodically, something the Magnimar lodge has taken responsibility for. You lot have been chosen to make the next supply run to Sanos Forest, and will leave first thing in the morning. It’s not a glamorous detail, but the fey forest never
lacks for intrigue, and I'm sure you’ll make the most of it.
"The basic mission is simple: Deliver a pack horse loaded with supplies to Dinnelletter's cottage in Sanos. Please also deliver this note to her, from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin of Absalom." Heidmarch hands over an envelope, thoroughly-sealed with an imprint in wax of the Glyph of the Open Road -- the symbol of the Pathfinder Society. "I don't expect any problems, but you never know with the fey. While you're there, please assist Ignizi in any way possible. I realize that's a little open-ended, so use your best judgement -- we don't need you back right away, so a few days or a week is reasonable."
Ms. Heidmarch is willing to answer questions.
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Beromir was already in the room before Sheila Heidmarch comes in but, being a man of little words, he prefered listening to talking. He seemed also quite intrigued by the scaled quadruped and frequently glanced at it.
After carefully listening to the Venture-Captain, he turns to her and asks : "Do you know what kind of feys we should expect? I recently fought an atomie and it was more annoying than dangerous. However, I don't know well the other feys, except that it is better to use cold iron weapons to fully harm them."
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Dorn shakes his head at Avril's offer of trail rations. "Oh, well, those're well enough on the road! I mean fancy foods, for this fancy house! You know, those little-- cucumbly sandwich things!"
He also squints suspiciously at the good doctor, looking as if about to say something, but before he can, the door swings open and the Venture Captain begins their briefing.
Dorn listens, his scarred face scrunched up as if it took a good deal of effort to process everything Sheila Heidmarch says. He barks a laugh at Zac's statement about the horse.
Pleased with his own clever solution, Dorn looks around the study and notes a quill, ink, and some parchment. He grabs these and starts writing down things in large, blocky Dwarven script, the letters formed rather like a child might-- he holds the quill in fist, rather than between thumb and forefinger, and the tip of his tongue peeps out his lips in concentration.
Do Things She Says
He pauses, then adds a postscript.
"I gots a nice cold iron axe," he mumbles to himself as he writes with great concentration.
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"From what I understand, the walls between this world and the First are very thin there. You might encounter just about anything."
"As for raiders, I really don't think you'll get any, unless they're truly desperate. In that case I trust your skills and Society-trained combat tactics will see you through any such trouble. Here in Varisia all the really accomplished bandits are members of the Sczarni, and they almost always make sure they're looking at a truly valuable prize before they go after travelers. Dinnelletter's shopping list is always a little eccentric, and this one consists mostly of alchemical supplies and food -- nothing worth stealing. If you run into any trouble on the road, it won't be because of the cargo."
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The arrival of Shiela Heidmarch interrupts Dr. Strang in his study of the eidolon before things turn too messy. He takes a last few notes in his journal, before sitting to listen to the Venture Captains briefing.
"The fey, you say?" He says, sounding pleased.
"Fascinating creatures the First Worlders." He continues thoughtfully. "In fact, I had the pleasure of meeting the Nymph Queen of Darkmoon Wood, not too long ago." Its hard to tell, given his darker skin tone, but you think he might be blushing slightly at the memory.
He coughs slightly, then continues. "We managed to foster a bit of good will there. Perhaps we will be able to leverage that favor should we run into more here."
He ponders for a moment. "Though given the overly capricious nature of the people as a whole, they might be just as likely to want to examine our insides as our motivations. We are a long way from Andoran, after all."
"Still, I relish the opportunity to see the research this Miss Dinnelletter has done! To be on the front lines for that sort of study must be quite exciting!"
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The rune glowing on Avril's and Cryxial's foreheads is a simple silvery triangle with equal edges pointing upwards. Before Avril can intervene in the examination Cryxial speaks up himself. He got a deep rasping voice. "What are you doing Menes Strang? I'm not here as your plaything. We got a mission to accomplish. Would you like it if I ripped off your clothes and took measurements of every part of your body?"
Avril nods at the venture captain's instructions. "Thank you for your instructions Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch. It sounds like a simple enough task, though I've been to plenty missions that have sounded simple, but have been anything but. Who are the people with Dinnelletter? You never know what sort of information might prove useful. I have no clue how to get that, could we get a map or something? Are there any other things than fey we are likely to encounter? Can you truly not tell us anything about the fey at all? I remember fighting a redcap, a wicked crazy creature. It was resistant to normal attacks, though my earthbreaker is made of a special material to be able to penetrate through it. Cryxial sadly doesn't have any ability to get through such defenses. Do you have any suggestions to help him do so?"
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"I don't have the details on the local fey, but Ignizi probably will. She could tell you whether it would be useful among the locals, having favor with the -- Nymph Queen, was it? I don't recall that tidbit being in your records. You will have to give us more details about that, Doctor," Sheila says with a wink at Menes.
More seriously, she continues. "I am also very keen to learn more of her research. Ignizi’s reputation -- the preeminent researcher in the field of the First World's influence on the Material Plane -- affords her something of a carte blanche when it comes to matters of First World research and we won't know exactly what she's up to until she has finally concluded her work. Knowing Ignizi, though, it will likely mean trouble."
When Avril asks her questions, Heidmarch turns to her file cabinets and pulls out a leather-bound folio. "The researchers, hmm, yes. They are all Pathfinder initiates, not yet Confirmed. They're fairly ordinary people. Not all of the information here is for general release -- privacy concerns, you know -- but I can have my secretary write a brief dossier if you feel it necessary.
"As for the fey, the gnomes who live in Sanos tend to be fairly wary of outsiders and don't often share details of their homeland. Dinnelletter's a local, so she gets a pass as far as they're concerned. If her Chronicle were published, we could refer to that, but she's still working on it. So all I can say is expect the unexpected. There are other creatures -- wild beasts of course, and a flock of pegasi from what I've heard, and I'm sure there's other things that I haven't heard of.
"For your eidolon? Hmm. A sufficiently powerful Amulet of Mighty Fists could let him break through such resistances, but I have none to spare, and I doubt the Society would loan one to you, even if we had time to send to Absalom for one -- they're quite pricey. Aside from that, any magics you can use to help him hit harder would be useful in breaking through the tough hides of fey. I've fought a few of them myself, and not having the weapons they're weak to is frustrating, to be sure, but just hitting them hard enough can do the job."
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The rune glowing on Avril's and Cryxial's foreheads is a simple silvery triangle with equal edges pointing upwards. Before Avril can intervene in the examination Cryxial speaks up himself. He got a deep rasping voice. "What are you doing Menes Strang? I'm not here as your plaything. We got a mission to accomplish. Would you like it if I ripped off your clothes and took measurements of every part of your body?"
"--bloody stones, it talks," Dorn mutters, side-eyeing this new development with renewed wariness.
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Before Avril can intervene in the examination Cryxial speaks up himself. He got a deep rasping voice. "What are you doing Menes Strang? I'm not here as your plaything. We got a mission to accomplish. Would you like it if I ripped off your clothes and took measurements of every part of your body?"
As Cryxial speaks, interrupting Dr. Strang's seemingly oblivious examination, the man takes a momentary step back, blinking slightly in surprise.
"Outstanding!" He replies suddenly, as the realization that the eidolon can fully speak for itself seems to please him to no end.
He glances down at himself, then over at Cryxial, then smiles. "Agreed!" He replies, with a smile. "I fully support the honest exchange of knowledge between species!"
He bows slightly, before adding. "Though I'm afraid my parts will not differ much from other humans you may have encountered. Much like Avril's there I suspect, aside from obvious dimorphisms in sex of course."
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Cryxial replies in a surprised tone. "What do you mean by honest exchange between species? Diwhat?" Avril steps in with a soft melodious voice. "Men and women are quire physically different, you surely know this Dr. Strang. You somewhat remind me of my old master back in Cheliax. Examine this, experiment that... That's not a good thing. Still, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. We can examine each other when we stop to camp. You need to prove that you are better than him. For now though we should focus on the mission. Do you know anything about the things we might be facing Menes?"
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"Nonsense!" Dr. Strang responds. "Understanding is the first step towards most any goal, my dear!"
He chuckles slightly. "It is the very reason I've lent my services to aid the Silver Crusade." He adds. "So many holy zealots and immutable strong-willed ah... enthusiasts..." He shakes his head slightly in mock dismay.
"They see something dangerous and suddenly its all smiting and hacking and pounding to dust, without taking the time to learn what it is they are destroying." There is a distinct note of sadness, at those chains of events, in his voice.
"And though it is true you can learn from destroying something... it is a sad fact that that is only a small part of the whole." He shrugs, before adding, "And once it is destroyed, there is only so much more to learn... though I try! If only to better assist in the smiting in the future... but occasionally to prevent the need for it."
"As for what I know of the fey, that knowledge is sadly limited thus far, beyond some of the more widespread observations." He seems sorely disappointed in this lack.
"I've met very few of the folk myself, beyond recent events in Andoran. Though have read a number of tomes on the subject."
He smiles brightly. "Which is why the chance to examine this Ignizi Dinnelletter's research is such a wonderful opportunity!"
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Dorn watches, looking utterly mystified, at this exchange between the doctor and the beast-thing. As the conversation goes on, he looks more uncomfortable.
"Don't like-- experimenting and-- poking and-- examinings," he mutters at his paper, scratching with one grubby hand at the scars on his head. Fortunately the conversation sweeps on to the fey, and Dorn gazes into the middle distance a bit, eyes a bit glazed over as he struggles to recall things.
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-Posted with Wayfinder
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Avril shakes her head at the doctor's statements. "Understanding? You don't need that. Deternation, skill and having the right people around you is much more important. People and interactions over processing and tools. Anyway, that's not something that is important to discuss. I think we are done here. Let's be off so we can reach Ignizi sooner. There wasn't any more right Venture-captain?"
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"Not unless anyone has further questions. Here is a map of the Magnimar region, which will guide you to the path that leads into the Sanos forest. From there, you'll have to rely on the instructions written on the back, but they're not difficult to follow. You should have time to pick up anything else you need as well."
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Orophin watches his companions with a degree of amusement, his attention drifting a little from the task at hand. When the venture captain speaks he draws back to the present and smiles a happy "I think we have it. Deliver supplies and a letter to Ignizi, and provide her any help she requires..."
As he says it a small look of concern crosses his face. "How long will we be helping her for?"
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"Fey's tricky things," Dorn mumbles. "Nasty little buggeries.... lying and tricking folk... with their magic...."
His jaw works for a bit and he glares at nothing, then he grins like a little child. "Cold iron, though! Put an inch of that through a fairy's guts and you'll have yourself plenty of guts!" He seems to be a bit oblivious to the fact that this was already discussed.
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"Why, you're no longer an initiate -- surely you are providing your own room and board these days?"
The six of you, with the pack horse, walk for several days along the Dry Way, a trade road that follows the northern bank of the mighty Yondabakari River toward Korvosa, heading east from Magnimar. Frequently, they pass travelers, sometimes alone, sometimes in small groups, and once a big caravan of wagons passes them on its way to the city they just left. Six days after taking leave of the City of Monuments, they notice the stream marked on their map, and follow the instructions to find a narrow path running alongside. Once within the trees of the Sanos forest, all signs of humanoid activity cease.
Mid-day on the first day in the forest, Beromir spots some large bear tracks near the stream.
According to the instructions, you are probably within a half mile of the cottage where Ignizi Dinnelletter lives.
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Avril was listening to the bird song as she rode along, so she notices at once when it dissapears. Her somewhat vapid smile disappear and she steadies her grip on her lance. "The forest is unnaturally quiet. The bird song was so pretty, what a shame. It could mean there is something dangerous that has scared them away." After pausing for a second she brightens up in a smile again. "Oh yeah, protection is a good idea, in case there actually is trouble." She moves her lance to one hand and waves the other about while chanting.
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"K̲̼̱̜̜͍̙̄ͨͫ̉̔̉͂ͣ̀h̴̨̯̐ͭͧ̑̒̓̑̌ą̴̮ͯ̎̈́̂͜r̥͚͔͕̩͎̫ͮ̽̽̏ͮz̨̭̲͔̪̝̿ͣ͊͞h̺̗͚̲͍͑̈́ͧ̅a ̐̄ͣ͌̉̆͐͏̞̠͈d̵̠̻͔̂̈́͛͗ͦ͠u̵̅̆ͭ͐̆̀͏̘̝͍͕ͅ ̩̲̘̮̼͙̣̍̑ͬͮͪ̏̋̚ͅc̛͈̜̣͎͉͍̟̼̑ͯ̓͞u͕̻̜̻͎͈̒͋̑͢͢x̬̱͎̻̮͇̙̣̅ͨ̈́ͥi̴̩͍̣͍͙̠̮͚̘ͫ͗ͫ̎̿ͪͧ͢ a͓̋ͣͤ͂ͧ̂̚͜i̛̼̙̗͇̤̋̌̅͛́̚a͈̩̺͓̾ͮ̑̈́̆͗ͪţ̶͎̙̍̌̔͗̽̚͢ ̗̘̰͇̪̪͑̊̒̉̀͒̀̀ẉ̠͓̱̙̅̓́̌͠r̦ͤ̇ͧ͛̀͢͢e̻̖͈̠͛̂ͯ͢͜c̯͈̗͖̹̤͆̇ͭk̡͙̬̹̳̤̩͎ͫ͆̈́̚ͅḛ͈̒ͨ̓̍̐ ͞r̭͓͊͋ͣ͡t̘̼̟̩̬͖̘ͥ͛̇̂ͮͦ̉̄͟o̴͓̐͌͟p̢̧̤̱̖̩̯̫̯̞̔́̚i̴͕̙̥̻̲͈̫̒̇̒͑͒͗͋ͩͫ͡͞ť̯̻̲̭̥̫̬̫͉ ̓͒͆̒̉̐a̵͂̈́̈͌̃͂͏̳̖͉̬͔͉̮̝̳x̘̰͙̙̳̳̃͆̋̎̎̾ ̛͉̖͔͙͔͙̝͙̒̅ͤ̓͘͝q̛̗͉̠̳̜͑͆̏͋w͕͚̖͚͈̖̄͆͜e̖̩̲͍͖̲̭͚̯̿ͮ̉ͤ͗̇̉͗̏͝r͙̅͋ͯ̌͋ͣ͘͝t̻̱̺̤̄͐ͨ̾ ͐̄͜͞y͉̜͔͉̘̥̠͉͖̐̃ͤ͑̐̍ͪ̀͘ ̇̈́͏̵͕̮̼̗̜̭͚̭s̴̜͉̠̤̱̆ͅͅh͍͖̔̋ͣ͆̌̄̽̂́̀ḭ̧̝̖̭̋̽͆͟ḛ̫̬̩͓͚̞̬̌ͫ͒͒̍̍ͬl̹̣̙̭͚̯̐̇̏ͫ̈́͛ͦ ̇͘d͇̝̪͇̤͛̿̀͘"
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When she finishes there is a glimmer around her as if glass reflecting light, with a purple-orange hue like that of a sunset.
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Dr. Strang has spent the trip acting as informal nature guide. Pointing out interesting flora and fauna as they came across it and making (at least to him) interesting observations on the same.
As they get closer to their destination, he seems to get more and more excited, clearly looking forward to meeting the druid and seeing her research.
He too notices the change, though more as an interesting observation, then a reason for caution.
"I'm sure the wildlife would find us alarming." He offers hopefully, glancing around.
He looks at their map for a moment. "According to this, we're only ten minutes or so from the camp." He pauses for a moment, pondering, before adding. "Which I suppose would make the local wildlife a little more used to humans and less likely to frighten."
He follows Avril's lead, casting false life () and mage armor on himself before they continue on. ()
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"Enh?" says Dorn, blinking up at the others and their observations. He scowls at the spells being cast, and for himself merely unhooks his shield from his back and dons it. He draws his waraxe as well, walking along, gazing from side to side but seeing nothing in all these darned trees. They're too tall.
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At a point, Beromir stops and kneels down as if he has seen something unusual on the ground. He then stands up, showing a dirty and greasy-looking feather. "They are some feathers like this scattered near the bear tracks," he says, glancing around warily. "The creature who left these tracks is feathered and, therefore, isn't a bear. Furthermore, these feathers have a scent of decay about them. I don't know what it is but that clearly doesn't sound like a natural woodland creature."
"I don't like it," he adds before unstrapping his greataxe.
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Voracious predators, they attack prey by grabbing with their claws and finishing it off with a vicious bite with their beak.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"I do believe you're correct, Beromir." He says, after examining the feathers for a while. "Definitely from a mammalian creature."
"I've heard of creatures like that... offshoots of some long ago arcane experiment." He adds, describing the owlbear.
He holds the feather under his nose, and sniffs it. "And definitely necrotic."