Amris still has to roll :)
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Party:
Amris L2 Bard
Adrianna L1 Monk
Daeris L2/3? Rngr
Nitrus (or alternative) L1 Alchy
You are awoken in the middle of the night by a sharp rap at your door. Opening the door, you find a sleepy-eyed page requesting your presence in Drendle Drang’s quarters. You dress hastily and navigate the halls of the Grand Lodge. As you near Drang’s chamber, snatches of violin music waft from the hall where his quarters are located. Arriving at the door to his chamber, you realize the music is emanating from his room and your knocks go unanswered. Entering his room in ones and twos, Drang ignores his guests until four groggy Pathfinders arrive. Once all four are assembled, he sets the violin down abruptly and strolls over to the fireplace mantle, retrieving a felt slipper and a meerschaum pipe. He withdraws a small pouch from the slipper and opening it, removes some shag tobacco. He begins to pack the pipe with the tobacco before removing a hot poker from the fireplace, touching it to the pipe bowl, and drawing on the pipe until the contents kindle an ember. He stands eyeing the assembled group and puffing on the pipe for a long few moments before speaking.
"Pathfinders, I called you in tonight to discuss a problem I need you to solve." he says as clouds of pipe smoke drift lazily around his head. "Have you ever heard of Darsielle Du Moire? He’s the third son of a wealthy Chelaxian count and a little prick at that" he says before anyone assembled can answer his question. "He exceled at squandering the family fortune on debauchery and hedonism before this old man gave him the boot. Old man Du Moire gave his son a small sailing vessel and a privateer’s writ and sent him on his way. Well Darsielle took to a privateer’s life like a jackal upon the carcass of a fallen stag" Drandle says as he begins to pace the room. "In a few short seasons, he sank half a dozen pirate ships, as well as one or two Andoren vessels that he claimed were unmarked" Dreng rolls his eyes. "Due to tales of his ruthlessness, the infamy of his ship, the Hydra’s Fang, has spread. Then the little bastard sailed in to Westcrown and demanded to be made an admiral" Drandle smiles and shakes his head. "Darsielle’s got a pair on him. I’ll give him that. Anyway, his demands didn’t sit well with the current high-admiral, Astran Thrune. Compounding matters, the Andoran government accused Du Moire of deliberately attacking free Andoren ships. Dubbing his attacks “acts of war,” they threatened to retaliate unless the Chelish government placed a cease and-desist upon the Hydra’s Fang".
Dreng stops pacing long enough to knock some of the ashes out of his pipe and reload it with more tobacco. Where was I? Oh yes, soon after the Andoren accusations, several of the imperial families called for the privateer’s head. Upon official word of his condemnation, Darsielle fled Westcrown and went on a rampage, foundering ships and looting small towns up and down the Andoren coast. This time, the Andorens responded with a formal declaration of war. Hoping to avoid conflict, the Chelish diplomats promised to permanently rid the Inner Sea of the Hydra’s Fang, provided they stay their attacks. Andoran accepted a temporary treaty, giving Cheliax 30 days to make good on their offer". Drandle smiles again, shaking his head. "Such a little prick. Well, a fortnight later, Darsielle struck the small Andoren village of Wittleshine, burning it to the ground. He churned the ivory sands to black ash, butchering scores of fishermen and seaweed farmers before dragging off the living in slave chains. Keeping their word, Chelish dragoons attempted to stop him by ambushing him with two battleships just off shore. Chelish rear-admiral Gusarre the Bleak led the dragoons and in a radical maneuver rammed the prow his ship, the Righteous Fury, into the Hydra’s Fang’s hull. Unfortunately, one of Darseille’s men got off a lucky retaliatory shot that struck Gusarre in the throat, pitching the admiral into the angry waters. In the disarray, Darsielle’s men set the Righteous Fury’s sails aflame with a barrage of tarred arrows. Du Moire quickly piloted a narrow escape, while the remaining Chelish ship chose to aid their allies rather than give pursuit—a poor decision, for which her captain was later hanged" Dreng frowns "Be glad we don’t live in Cheliax".
He stops pacing and stares at the part - "Which brings me to your part in this. With the Hydra’s Fang’s badly damaged hull taking on water, Darsielle desperately sought safe harbor in the one port where he could still pull favors, Diobel. Right here in our home territory". Drandle smiles wickedly. "I need you to go the Diobel where you will be contacted by one of agents at a local pub called “The Tails”. He’ll tell you where to find Du Moire. Also we have intelligence that says that Darsielle has some tablets that we’d like to get our hands on, but your contact will explain everything" Dreng gives the party a half-cocked smile. "So you better get packing. Any questions?"
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Daeris nods, smiling in her predatory way. "Then we hunt a landlocked pirate, a fish out of water, as it were. I expect he will not come quietly for arrest. Can you tell us anything of his skills or perhaps know cohorts, Venture Captain?"
Once they finish their meeting, Daeris will go to pack and purchase last minute items and try to drum up some information on their quarry.
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The half elf yawned a bit, he had his armor on, a curved elven blade by his side. And his mask on hiding his facial features, except for his ears. But listened. A mission to attack a boat? He chuckled to himself. Voronwer will like this. And just as he thoughts this and before he could ask any questions...
Two heads poked through the opening of the door. Scanning the room, then with a grin trotted over to the half elf almost knocking him over as a single body, aquatic and reptile in shape slammed into him. The two heads began to sniff the fellow pathfinders.
She grinned, showing lots of teeth. This one smelled a little like their friend, but different. this one must be friend too!
Both heads gave her a lick to the dismay of the half elf
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Daeris nods, smiling in her predatory way. "Then we hunt a landlocked pirate, a fish out of water, as it were. I expect he will not come quietly for arrest. Can you tell us anything of his skills or perhaps know cohorts, Venture Captain?"
"He's pirate with a boat load of pirates that have been easily plundering fellow pirates and innocents alike. I don't know that much more about the chap other than he's a political problem that needs removing from a few sides. The answers you need are in Diobel, where our agents will likely have found out his whereabouts and numbers - half the world is looking for him, but see you get to him first"
[ooc]Word on the street isn't anything more than confirmation of how horrible and reprehensible the young upstart truly is. He seems a truly nasty piece of work
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"And how do you want this upstart delivered? Breathing? Or will it matter? I assume you have no great need for his henchmen...What of his plunder - will that be returned also?" It seems hard to believe such harsh thoughts come from such a sweet-looking young woman...yet there is no mistaking the edge in her voice nor the intent of the questions.
She smiles, both heads, giving the human a friendly nuzzle
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Adrianna was a bit uncertain of the young hydra in the group...but it had been nice to Daeris, and Daeris did not normally elicit feelings of kindness from people. Adrianna hesitantly reaches out and scratches the creature behind one ear, saying, "Who's a good hydra? Hmmm? Are you a good hydra? Yes you are!" If it worked on the war houds of her homeland, perhaps it would work on this creature. If not, there were always treats and snacks to try...
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"We want the fellow dealt with, one way or another... we just want him gone, and we want the credit. We also want the Tablets. Anything else is really little of our concern - turn what you can over to the authorities, turn him in if you want, it'll be as sure as knifing him yourself" with a look at the odd creature he smiles to himself "I am obviously sending the right people".
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"I don't for a moment expect that they will come quietly - I expect they will try to fight for their lives and to the bitter and bloody end like the cornered rats they are. I leave it to your consciences to determine their fates with due consideration of their past deeds and their actions on the day"
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Two heads poked through the opening of the door. Scanning the room, then with a grin trotted over to the half elf almost knocking him over as a single body, aquatic and reptile in shape slammed into him. The two heads began to sniff the fellow pathfinders.
She grinned, showing lots of teeth. This one smelled a little like their friend, but different. this one must be friend too!
Both heads gave her a lick to the dismay of the half elf
Daeris regarded Voronwer more favorably than she did the creature's half-elf companion, her great green eyes traveled over the curve blade he wore cooly. "An interesting beast, I have not seen her like before. Do you understand speech, Voronwer? Ah, I thought so." She raised an admonishing finger and wagged it side to side before the eidolon's noses. "Remember that less is more, especially when it comes to saliva." But despite her words, she smiled and patted the creature warmly.
Responding to the "Good. I do not care for entering such situations with my hands tied and my options limited. Let us make our preparations and be off."
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You arrive in Diobel via the overland route from Absalom to meet a contact in a pub known as “The Tails”; a dingy, brine-soaked shack covered with swordfish tails located in a rundown section of town called South Reach. There, bitter longshoreman coming off the graveyard shifts pile in and slam rounds of a potent shark-fin liquor, cursing and complaining until they’re drunk enough to be carted home by noon. The disparaged scene has few prying eyes—the ideal place for Pathfinders to pass along their covert whispers.
You enter early in the day, when the small crowd of older men is at its most drunk and rowdy, the revelry within barely contained by the boarded-up windows. You stand out like sore thumbs among the ruddy-faced dockworkers, most of whom have more ginblossoms than teeth. The crowd immediately heckles you for being up-scalers and gold-thumbers, demanding you spend some of your coin to buy the bar a round, but quickly fall silent when moments later, a dark, cloaked figure rises from the back of the bar. Then, eyes averted, everyone returns to their former conversations.
Drawing back his cloak, your contact reveals himself — a man his late forties with obvious Chelaxian features and a faint beard. He introduces himself only as Osprey, then invites you to sit before he finally tells you why the Society dragged you to Diobel: “We’ve word that the accursed Chelaxian pirate Darsielle Du Moire’s has anchored his much sought ship, the Hydra’s Fang, in the harbor. Everyone’s looking for that bastard. He carries with him some ancient tablets of extreme historical value to our organization. Unknown to most, Wittlestone, the small Andoren town Du Moire razed to the ground, was also home to Myraxus Threeshadows, a noted but aging sage and umber mystic supposedly of ancient Azlanti decent". Osprey shakes his sadly before continuing. "Among Myraxus’s possessions he kept ancient forgeries of several tablets used in ancient rites during Old Azlant’s height. When Darsielle destroyed the village, he slew the wizard and took the tablets, hoping to pawn them to one of his buyers in Diobel. The tablets are a priceless archeological treasure, one greatly desired by the Pathfinder Society. In fact, just prior to the Azlanti’s death, we placed several bids to purchase the tablets and so naturally were the first to realize they’d gone missing. You must race to get Du Moire and recover the stolen tablets before his pursuers find him or he flees port" he lets that sink in a moment - “If our sources are correct, we’ve learned that he owes a substantial amount of money to one of the Consortium’s more ambitious Enforcers, an importer named Lubor Staizkal. Likely he needs to settle with him at some point. Go to Lubor’s shop on Meldon Lane, near the docks, and see if you can pick up Du Moire’s trail from there, then do whatever you can to get those tablets. May the Gods speed you in this task.”
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Osprey considers your question, and orders a round of drinks and motions you to a nearby table, secluded and private.
Over a cold ale he expresses some sympathy that you are all out of towners and fills you in on the Kortos Consortium.
The Consortium is a semi-covert crime syndicate specializing in running contraband in and out of Absalom. Posing as a merchant’s collective, they have slowly seeped their way into every facet of Diobel’s social and political infrastructure, with high-ranking members serving as elected officials and holding prominent social positions. They ruthlessly persecute non-affiliates, and those caught smuggling are righteously handed over to Absalom’s officials. Such seemingly aggressive tactics create a thickly spun chrysalis of deceit to mask their criminal motives. Capital gained from dues and their own smuggling operations funds a hierarchy of minions used to maintain the group’s political infrastructure and protect its extensive property holdings. Diobel also provides a perfect strategic location for the Consortium to keep watch over activities in Absalom. Ultimately, the Consortium seeks to extend its gluttonous reach into the City at the Center of the World; if not openly, then by plucking its shadowed strings.
"So with that in mind, you can talk to them, but be aware of who they are and what they might represent. They might or might not aid us, it depends on how we consider and address their interests"
Any more before pushing on?
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On your contact’s advice, you arrive at the shop of one of DuMoire’s supposed connections. A sign over the door reads “Lubor’s Imports.” The door hangs slightly ajar. All is dark within,and eerily silent.
As you peer inside, you witness the scene of a recent brawl. Furniture lies smashed and strewn about. Near a closed door at the back of the shop, two bodies slump upon the floor, their blood pooling slowly beneath them.
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Daeris' eyes widen as she spots the bodies on the floor, she presses a slender finger to her lips to signal for the others to be quiet in case the attacker is still nearby. She scans the room quickly for hidden dangers and then moves as quietly as she can to the men on the floor, checking for any sign of life.
The party rolls in, the mini-hydra lays waste to one tough and Daeris fires an arrow into the other, who retains his footing! Moments later Adrianna attempts to lay the fellow low but misses her opportunity as he reflexively reacts to the arrow pain and you can see the colour draining from him.
He lurches at Adrianna with his blade!
Attack
Damage
Then collapses.
The young girl then casts a spell at the Hydra!
Magic Missile
R1
Amris
R2
Kormil
Adrianna
Daeris
Enemy
Amris