|
A lithe aasimar walks into the room, an otherworldly look about her. Her figure is slender, yet she seems to be accustomed to many hardships. She is carrying a bow as well, and wears a holy symbol depicting a feminine arm wielding a longsword.
Well met, I am Ennoia. Are we to travel together for this rescue mission? By Falayna, I will protect you in our endeavour.
|
|
"Omar, Ennoia, and..." Wilhelm looks towards Sardon, hoping for the man to introduce himself, but not wanting to pressure him. He turns his attention to the letter.
He looks over the letter, briefly. "So, we are to be joined by a pair of dwarves, excellent." Wilhelm's tone remains neutral, expressing no real emotion of any kind.
The door slams open once more and a elegant figure glides into the room on what appears to be a carpet of writhing vines. Confident with his impressive entry, the druid floats to a chair which apparently pulls itself out for him to be seated upon. "Well it certainly won't be me!" he replied with a smirk to question that the gnome had left hanging in the air.
Propping his feet upon the table he smiled at the rest of the people occupying the room, "Greetings! My name is Baobob and this..." The druid patted a frond of the plant next to him fondly. ...is my friend Phil. Phil likes hugging things..."
|
The touch of something new and unfamiliar was exciting for Phil, this strange hand was defiantly something that deserved a hug! Wrapping a tendril about this interesting wrist, Phil squeezed down and pulled, determined to give the aasimar a massive leafy squeeze in greeting.
Grinning, Baobob leaned in close to the aasimar. "Phil here is a Vine Crawler and as i just said, Phil really likes hugging things, especially new things." A quick smack from Baobob caused the Vine Crawler to release the aasimar's wrist. "What I failed to mention is that poor little Phil here sometimes has problems letting go of new things..."
Sitting back up, Baobob addressed the party at large. "Now about this letter, it appears we are needed to effect the rescue of three dwarves from these Razmiri priests and escort them to Mendev!"
|
|
"Well it would seem that we are waiting upon our last two travelling companions, Metella Raugar and Amauhak. I do hope they aren't long in arriving...in matters such as this, time is often of the greatest importance." Baobob sat up and began staring intently at the door.
Phil however was unconcerned with the immanent arrival of dwarven envoys, nor the gentle rebuke it had just received. There was more then one new nearby something! Coiling around the table legs, Phil began to slide towards unsuspecting ( ) limbs which were in desperate need of hugs and affection!
|
|
Wilhelm just notices the Vine Crawler. He keeps his legs in the lotus position and off of the floor.
"Fascinating creature. Though, I'm not keen on hugs or other forms of embracing. You must be a druid, to have such a bond with nature."
The monk turns his attention from the plant to the rest of the party. "Have you worked with the society for long? I myself have been on one excursion - to an abandoned monastary in the mountains of Tian Xia."
|
"How many missions? Including rescuing these dwarves? One. They were going to have me run around Absolom as an errand-boy ... I'd have none of that. Ended up getting sent here.", he puts his hands behind his head, leaning the oversized chair back on two legs, "I hope this wasn't a punishment for saying, 'no'", he says grinning.
|
|
Ahn's feet are not under the table, but if it approaches him ... , and if it touches him, Ahn unsheathes a glistening dagger brandishing it at the creature ... leaving everyone uneasy with their uncertainty of his seriousness.
Pounding the pummel of the dagger on the beer stained and sticky table ... "What's a man gotta do to get a drink 'round here!"
|
|
Momentarily perplexed by the brandished dagger, Phil decided that the shiny flashing bit of metal needed a hug far more then the squishy bit waving it around. Sliding a tendril about the blade, the cheeky plant attempted to tug it from the grip of Ahnastasios , successfully securing the shiny, in need of hugs object from the gnome! Skittering to a corner of the room, it enveloped the small blade and became a joyfully wriggling mass of leafy tendrils.
Frankly Sardon, I'm sitting right in front of you! Declared Baobob, flicking a chip of bark at the oblivious man. "I'm aware I'm dressed more like a tree then an adventurer, but I don't blend into the woodwork that well sir!"
While turning to face the monk, Baobob pondered the question before speaking in turn. "No, I can't really say that I have had official missions with the Society. My brother probably had some experience with them, but he was a man of many talents..."
|
|
The aasimar seems not to bother about the gnome, yet answers Wilhelm's question patiently and extensively.
This is my very first mission for the Pathfinders, though I have ventured many times before, mostly in the Worldwound outskirts. So it's a very important moment for me, my goddess would call it "my coming into bloom", a moment of revelation. I cannot help but feeling a little nervous, I must admit.
|
The bit of bark bounces off Sardon's nose, and he rubs the spot, frowning.
"I will not question your reasons for throwing your clothing at me. You obviously felt it necessary. As we are about to go on a mission where our lives may depend on each other, though, I would respectfully ask you to bathe before doing so again. As long as I may live, I can never un-smell that."
He looks thoughtfully as the viney creature pulls the dagger into the corner. "Should he be playing with that?"
"I'm not sure what their policy is on serving people who can't reach the bar," he says to the gnome, apparently under the impression that he is being helpful by answering the question.
|
As the group gets to know each other, Two silent servants open a pair of richly lacquered doors, and a human and two dwarves stride into the lavish parlor. The man, clad in immaculate robes of whitest silk, is short and round with a blond oiled beard, and his eyes are alert and amused. He takes a touch of snuff from a golden box and sneezes before saying, It is a pleasure to welcome Pathfinders to one of my estates once more. I am, as you may know, Temel Passad. Allow me to introduce... One of the two dwarves, a redheaded female in deep scarlet robes, curtly interrupts the man. We can introduce ourselves, Passad. I am Metella Raugar, representing the interests of several Highhelm mercantile consortia. My companion—she gestures to a dwarven man with leathery skin baked by the sun, his head swathed in a bright yellow scarf—is Amauhak of Reth Bezel, a mystic of the sand dwarves of Osirion. We will be coming along with you all. Its time to leave soon. You all know the mission. Any other questions?
|
|
The ambassadors left one week ago. It will only take a few days to sail into Razmiran waters. I don't much about the country of Razmiran, but it’s a strict theocratic government presided over by a vast priestly bureaucracy serving a being said to be a living god.
We know little of the Inn other than its location.
There is no telling the dangers that you will find. It is best to be on guard at all times/
|
|
As you move down to the docks, you all see that the ship, the Abacus is already receiving cargo and is ready to set sail. You are ushered onto the boat and set off across Lake Encarthan. The next several days are uneventful.
One morning Captain Passad speaks with all of you. You are at the Mouth of the Glass River and are about to enter Razmiri waters. Local laws dictate that you dock at Xer and pay your tolls before continuing the journey. You can also try to sail through the river and avoid any authorities.
Passad offers his advise that you should dock and pay your toll plus an added "bonus". He adds that if you are seen by one of the faith barges and you don't have proof of the tariff, it would be trouble. Passad adds that he his happy to pay the toll himself.
Mettela interrupts to add her advise on the boat's course. She is afraid that if you dock, the boat may be searched and the envoys would be detected. She advises it is better to avoid the docks and take your chances against the barges.
|
|
"I feel that it would be best to obey the local customs and not upset the balance of this area by disturbing the peace and alerting the Razmiri hounds before we are well and ready to do so." Looking around the small group Baobob shrugged, "At the moment we're just a simple trading vessel making its way north, nothing more, nothing less."
|
|
"Nominal? I have heard no price mentioned as yet. What is this toll? My purse cannot handle any real draw.", Ahn draws from within the folds of his armor a rather limp, leather coin purse . "And as for a 'bonus' ... a bribe you mean!", tossing the purse into the air, he snatches it mid fall and quickly tucks it away. "If the law dictates a toll then a toll we shall pay ... I would rather we come to blows than I line the pockets of some too-bit crook! That aside, maybe we could experience the local taverns if we make for port."
|
|
Metall frowns but doesn't argue her point any further. Leaving her fate in the hands of the Pathfinders she and Amauhak stow away below decks.
The city of Xer occupies the north bank of the Glass River, and its dozens of docks remain busy as ships headed both east and west call at the port. Grubby men and women in bulky jackets patrol the docks, and few smiling faces are to be seen.
Capatain Pasad chooses a isolated docked that is sheltered on either side by tall warehouses. As the boat slowly approaches that dock one of the shipmates tosses a rope to a dockworker to help moor the boat. The Pathfinders see that there are three Razmiri enforcers waiting on them. One holds a leash of a half-tamed wolf.
How many do you have on board? Shouts the enforcer with a snarl on his face.
|
|
Baobob shrinks away from the snarling beast and patiently waits for the the of the party to act. Phil however, has found great amusement during the voyage imitating pieces of the ship's rigging and continues its charade of attempting to look and act like rope (to the point of hiding the proper ships rope, much to the crew's chagrin).