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For a city founded upon bloody combat traditions, Tymon is surprisingly docile. Weapons are invariably peace-bonded, there is a lack of muscle-flexing machismo in the streets—even public disputes are scarcer than in comparably large settlements. Rule of law here is strong, perhaps, or else violent urges are simply sated vicariously through the famed Arena of Aroden. Whatever the cause, little impedes the swift journey to Smine’s Weaponworks, locally famous as a place of business but secretly also a Pathfinder lodge. The sound of ringing steel and the withering heat of the forge through an open sliding door identify the stone structure as readily as its well painted but soot-stained sign. Several apprentices work blades in various stages of completion, and at the largest work area
toils a smiling dwarf: famed weaponsmith and venture-captain Holgarin Smine.
He glances up under singed eyebrows, never missing a beat as he says, “Ah. It’s you. A moment.” After putting some final touches on a spearhead, quenching it in water, and nodding approvingly after a brief appraisal, he unties his apron and opens the door into the adjoining building. Within a few minutes, Smine has set out refreshments such as bread and cheese in a much cooler kitchen.
“Forgive me for not asking about your journey. Love the details, but those can wait. Someone’s picking a fight—with us,” he divulges in broken sentences reminiscent of the staccato clanging of the adjacent forge. “You might know we’re committed to supporting Mendev. Important business, that. Worldwound expanding, wardstones failing. Not good for anyone. So when we send supplies north and they’re stolen, it gets our attention. And that’s been happening. Months now. Boat after boat heading up the Sellen, attacked, looted—always a few days out of Tymon. Now, River Kingdoms shipping isn’t always chancy; brigands on the water are nothing new. Not like this, though. And it isn’t all shipping. Just ours. Someone is targeting us. It’s my job to get to the bottom of this, and I have a notion how. Been told you lot were just what I needed. So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re not just going to find these pirates; we’re going to flush ’em out. They want to hit Pathfinders? Pathfinders can hit, too. They’ll think they’ve got another soft supply boat, but the cargo will be you. Ready to fight.”
He grins before concluding, “You’re bait. But you’re bait that bites back."
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"You got it boss!" Truk says, pounding a huge fist into his other hand for effect. "We're just the crew for the job. Did you want us to bring 'em in or just teach them a lesson? Cause I know a thing about teaching drunk fools a lesson."
Truk is obviously a half-orc but wears his orcish blood well. His tusks are small, dulled, and only slightly poke out from under his bottom lip and his ears are only mildly pointed. His skin is a greyish-olive that contrasts well with the cropped dark hair along the top of his head. He wears a short well-kept beard on his chin. What elements of his orcish parentage that are absent from his facial features are plainly visible in his tall form and broad powerful physique.
He's clad in a tightly-fitted mithril breastplate and, though he carries no visible weapons, his thickly calloused ham-sized fists suggests he doesn't need any.
"Neither. You find their hideout and you take them down. Take out their entire operation. Anything else you learn, bring back to me. Who hired them, why they’re harassing us. That sort of thing."
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From where he slouches against one wall, Morvius nods. The slender half-elf is a mirror image of Truk, in some ways--he wears no armor, but carries an impressive array of weapons--including a bow that's taller than he is. "D-draw them, follow them, kill them, report. Got it. Any descriptions? They leave any survivors before?"
"Yea. I’ve put out word there’s a major shipment headed upriver. Should get their attention. You can help with that too. Make yourselves look soft Hit the taverns. Look like landlubbers. Probably are, anyway, so it shouldn’t be difficult. Drink hard, and look like you’re shipping out hung-over. Spread a good cover story. Make them overconfident. Descriptions? The pirates that attack you. Survivors? None."
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Las Lajas was a just slightly above average height with a modest frame. A dark skinned Garundi, Las wore loose cottons befitting his heritage. He carried a backpack that seemed to be overflowing with random alchemical items. A whip at his side and a light crossbow at his hip, Las was not completely harmless.
"Greetings. So I take it we expect them to attack us on the boat? How well does anyone here swim? Who will captain the boat?
Have the pirates missed a shipment or have they hit every one?
Las adopts Hogarin's matter-of-fact and to the point manner of speech.
"Yea, they'll hit the boat alright. They've hit every shipment in the area lately. You'll have a pilot to sail the boat. You just need to fight. If you fight well enough, you won't need to swim."
As far as you know, there are many places along the Sellen that could house pirates. The entire riverside could hide them.
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Taliesin Staccato listens to the dwarf's instructions. She is impeccably well-maintained and clean. Beautiful beyond description, she examines her nails as if bothered by all the details of a Pathfinder mission. She wears a new, form-fitting mithral shirt and carries a mithral buckler carved in a flower motif. An elegant banner hangs from a finely-crafted longspear she holds nonchalantly.
She sighs and then she stands before the group. Like the lighting of a torch, she is suddenly cheerful and diplomatic.
"We are about to embark on a courageous mission, fellow Pathfinders! We shall discover the villainous ne’er-do-wells, punish most justly the perpetrators of evil, and finally return home with valor to receive the cheer and adulation of all!"
As she finishes speaking, she unfurls a banner of the Pathfinder Society, then curtsies with a flourish.
"I will be perfect bait!" she adds.
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"Hmm....then if we know they are coming, doesn't sound like we need to do anything different. I'd be more worried that a good cover story might just seem too good to be true. If I'm a pirate, don't know that I'd believe that a "major shipment" would be guarded by such a soft crew and that the crew would be so obviously soft."
Las shakes his head and is clearly skeptical about such a plan...
Tymon is founded on a tradition of gladiatorial combat, most famously in the city’s Arena of Aroden, where gladiators have vied for popular acclaim for over 2,000 years. Tymon’s ruling class is composed entirely of experienced gladiators who earned their status after winning 10 arena combats. Called “bloodied,” these gladiators have rights and privileges beyond any common Tymons. They alone are allowed to own property or bear weapons, and their word carries greater weight in court, almost placing them above the law. Tymon’s ruler, called the Champion, earns his place through combat as well. In spite of the privileges of the “bloodied,” specialized laws grant some equity to others. The Law of Grievance allows anyone to challenge someone who has wronged him to arena combat. This carries across social ranks; if challenged by a commoner, even one of the “bloodied” must submit. Even the Champion’s position is not secure; through the Law of Succession, any “bloodied” can challenge him for leadership
Your Venture Captain is genuinely convinced of this plan.
Smine shakes his head at the flamboyant Taliesin.
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Las shares what he knows with the group.
Addressing the group more specifically,
"Given the the nature of our mission and the laws of this locale, I anticipate we will some way or somehow find ourselves in the arena as either someone who was been wronged or defending ourselves against such claims. I suggest we prepare for such an eventuality."
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"Should we find ourselves in the arena at some point, I am uncertain we will have adequate time to arm ourselves. But I am concerned as to whether one gets a day to prepare before any such challenge. I will visit the arena and determine the specifics...."
Las raises his hand to his chin as he appears to ponder various outcomes...
"Let's suppose we find these pirates and they escape and spread false rumors about us. Or, we may find that a noble or official is behind these attacks and selling the supplies for profit. We may need to invoke the arena to clear our names or bring about justice. I had a similar encounter while in Dawnton. Provincial justice is a fickle thing and we would be well served to prepare for it."
Participants may cast preparatory spells before entering the arena but otherwise cannot use magic, activate items, or drink potions until the combat officially begins; this translates to 10 minutes of time checking in with the arena manager, suiting up, reviewing the rules, and verbally acknowledging these rules before stepping out into the fighting space. Magical flight and climbing the walls and columns is
permitted, but only to the level of the grandstands (25 feet above the floor). Going any higher is considered unsporting, presents a risk to the spectators, and is grounds for disqualification. Violators receive a single warning and slow count to three before being disqualified. Challenges and other specific rules are set upon by the disputing parties. The current Champion is a woman known as Helkit Silverbane who is known for riding exotic animals into combat. She leads a team called the Silver Slayers.
She has ridden several different steeds, including a rhino once. The disputing parties have to agree on a time and can appoint champions. Her slayers are an ever-changing roster though mostly they rely on weapons and cunning rather than magic.
Despite his great knowledge, Lajas cannot find out anything new. He feels as though he has exhausted any useful information.
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Las decides on one more prudent action, and that is determining what type of creatures might be swimming in the water ways that the Pathfinder supply ship will take.
Finally, last settles down to craft some items.
5 Firecrackers - DC 20
Time: 10 minutes each
Base Cost 10gp.
These small paper or cloth cylinders or spheres are filled with a tiny charge of black powder. One round after lighting a firecracker in an adjacent square, the firework detonates with a loud bang, dealing 1d2+1 points of nonlethal damage to any creatures in the square and deafening them for 1d4 rounds (Fortitude DC 11 halves damage and duration of deafness). The bang also causes unintelligent animals within 20 feet of it to become frightened for 1d3 rounds; an animal can overcome this effect with a successful DC 11 Will save or if an adjacent ally calms the animal with a successful DC 11 Handle Animal check (an immediate action)
ESSENCE OF INDEPENDENCE -
DC 25
PRICE 80 GP
Time 1 day;
When ingested, this thin serum awakens your potential for independent action. If you are under the in uence of a mind- affecting effect, you receive a new saving throw with a +4 alchemical bonus to break the effect (you can gain this bene t only once per day). If the serum is ingested by a bonded creature such as a familiar, animal companion, bonded mount, or homunculus, the creature ceases to be bound to its master’s will for 10 minutes. It gains a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks, and becomes interested in nding its own way of doing things. Its attitude toward its master might change drastically during this time, depending on how the master has treated it in the past. As soon as the duration of this effect ends, the creature becomes bound to its master’s will again.
I will Take 10 on the crafting with Crafter's Fortune = 27.
Lajas cannot figure out what kind of beasts swim in the river. While he spends the day crafting the rest of you are directed to a tavern known as the Flooded Sands. It is a popular boat pilot's bar and a good place to get out the word.
Tali asks around and gets the same information that Lajas did concerning current affairs.
You get the feeling that Tali is drawing a lot of attention with her questions. It may be the perfect time to start baiting the trap with your words/actions.
Tali starts spinning a yarn about how much the next shipment is really rare and probably worth a lot of money. The three of you spend the rest of the night at the tavern. The next morning Smine gives you the dock number where the boat you are taking is docked. The boat is called Tevryn’s Terrapin. Demeliah Sorhenson, a thickset Taldan woman approaching middle age, is the boat’s pilot. She is apprised of your mission.
The fist day of travel proves uneventful as Tevryn’s Terrapin meanders upriver. On the second day, the droning of frogs, insects, and birds along the riverbanks creates an atmosphere fit for dozing, even though the sun is barely past noon. Directly ahead, the river twists to the east for a bit before rounding a forested hummock. A splash breaks the monotony of sound as something slides of the marshy banks and into the water.
You notice that the splash is caused by a crocodile slipping into the water and is slipping around the bend. You get a surprise round.
Las pops his wand of Silent Image from his spring loaded wrist sheath and conjures up an image of an animal that is typical to the region that the crocodile might eat. Las makes the animal appear dead on the edge of boa closest to the brawler.
Lajas conjures an image of an adorably dead otter near the edge of the boat.
Tali and Lajas can see the crocodile swim closer to the barge. They also see something making waves in farther ahead along with someone talking.
Soon enough, the party sees a boat being rowed by four pirates led by a female halfling. She looks at the crocodile and points to Lajas and the animal obliges.
The reptile latches on to the investigator with his teeth!
The halfling starts casting a spell.
Summon Nature's Ally 2