As they listen to Ibid's alternative plan, trying to pay attention over Gilligan's chatter, the Pathfinders become aware that the Innkeeper is paying cursory attention to who is coming and going from the bounty board. At one point, he sees someone copy down a bounty and return to his seat. The innkeeper promptly gets the attention of a particularly curvaceous waitress and directs her to the man's table, where she proceeds to sidle closer for a listen.
The innkeeper nonchalantly returns to "cleaning" the bar. He is clearly chewing tobacco as he does so and spits bright orange goop right onto the counter top. The stained cloth in his hand rubs right over it, spreading the foul spittle evenly over the deeply unclean bar.
In looking at this unhygienic display, the Pathfinders note that the waitresses have not been by in quite some time - at least not to take any further orders. Perhaps they are kept at bay by Finarin's withering stare or Cyrus's sour demeanor. Maybe they don't serve monkeys. In any case, if someone wants food or drink, he is going to have to approach the tobacco soaked bar.
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"The soil of a man's heart is stonier, a man grows what he can and tends it... that which he nurtures will flourish."
Cyrus snorts in derision at the old man's cryptic parable. He plops his feet back down on the floor and sits up straighter, taking a deep breath.
"And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee." the ninja says with a bit more sneer than he intended. "Maybe you shoulda thought..."
Cyrus' words trail off as he cuts them off before saying more.
Shut up Cyrus the dummy. I asked for the truth, no begged for it, and he told me. He even warned me this would happen, that it would... change me. Stupid... why don't I ever listen?
He leans forward again, determined to put those thoughts out of his mind and focus on the task at hand. They were, after all, in a highly dangerous place where one mistake could get them all captured or killed.
Time to focus. Task at hand.
He takes another deep breath, his previous words still cut off and hanging uncomfortably in the air, and abruptly changes the subject.
"The barkeep is keepin tabs on the bounty board, at least, the people who are paying attention to it. If we don't want to get noticed, we can't just grab the note. So what's the plan old man? Might as well tell us now when no one cares to listen." Cyrus gestures at the eavesdropping waitresses who are no where near their table.
Cyrus decides to see if he can't get a feel for this bar, and the aspis roots that might be here. He stands up to approach the spit stained bar and its filthy barkeep.
"Aye, mead, if ye have it. And an answer or three." Cyrus says, rubbing a couple of silver pieces together. "I'm sick of the boats. I know ye don't care, but I'm not getting back on that cursed ship and spending another 3 months at sea chasing shackles pirates and running from chelaxian navel ships. I need to find something here. I hear rumors about this Aspis something or other. Whats that all about? They friendly here? Do they pay well?"
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When Gunari sees Cyrus moving up, he sees Ibid start to stand as well. Gunari gives the older man a shake of the head, and stands up instead. "Stay here, little buddy. Keep Ibid company" he says to the troublesome monkey.
He follows the ninja to the bar, keeping quiet, but listening carefully. He thinks about casting guidance, but chooses not to, just in case. "And I'll take some rum. Got me a taste of it on that damned ship, since that's all we had. Chelaxians... if I never see another of those damned devil-worshipers, it'll be too soon. Always so fast to point fingers."
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The waitresses' behavior is quite disturbing to the halfling...he's been in some dumps, but doesn't think he's ever seen such coordination among the serving women.
"Friends, let us watch our tongues, lest they get us in trouble with the help!" He chuckles, grinning lewdly at his fellows.
As Cyrus and Gunari go to inquire about the Aspis Consortium, Miro makes his way to the bounty board, seeking to make a connection while the others hopefully distract the help. If anyone does approach or seems overly concerned with what he is doing, he rubs his chin, murmuring. "Yes, yes, got to find something soon. That makes four bastards to feed now..."
Lying their pants off about sailing and pirate hunting, Gunari and Cyrus successfully distract the bartender from the bounty board, while Miro manages to simultaneously find a time where very few eyes are on him. The halfling - who looks more like a child than usual - quickly pulls the bounty posting down and stuffs it into his tunic before making his way back to the table.
Meanwhile...
"That's the Aspis Consortium," says the barkeep conversationally in response to Cyrus's questions, "And ye'd best learn that name if ye're going to stay long in Bloodcove. If ye've only heard rumors, it makes me wonder which side o' the Inner Sea ye've been on all these years. Ain't no secret in these parts. A good thing too! The Consortium keep things runnin' smooth. Best thing t' ever happen t' this place. Used to be t'was just a pirate hideaway. Ye'd be like as not to get yer throat slit afore ye could sell any wares. Now, 'tis the center o' trade fer the whole region!"
The doors of the inn swing wide. A tall, slender Bonuwat man with long, neatly pulled back dreadlocks, a colorful collection of beads jingling at his chest and wearing a flowing silken robe strides boldy into the tavern. A hush falls upon the crowd as he stands at a suddenly vacated table. Two Bekyar men enter immediately after the Bonuwat man and leer menacingly at bystanders before taking seats at the table. The man with the dreads calmly and deliberately unrolls a piece of parchment and clears his throat.
“We have ten jobs available for today, working the warehouse at dock twenty-two," he says simply and officiously in a loud, clear voice, "Any strong, able-bodied person is welcome to see me for assignment.” With that, the Bonuwat man places the parchment in front of him, sets up an inkwell, pops a quill in it and then sits down at the table. Several patrons form a line in front of him and he starts assessing them for sturdiness and taking names. The general hubbub of the taproom returns to usual.
Bonuwat is a Mwangi ethnicity, one of four major subgroups on the continent. Bonuwats are known for being avid and competent seafarers and are unsurprisingly most commonly found in Mwangi ports.
Bekyar is also one of the four major Mwangi ethnicities, hailing from southern Garund. Bekyars are renowned throughout southern Golarion as prominent slave traders.
"Well, if ye're looking fer pay," says the barkeep to Gunari and Cyrus once the regular tavern noises resume, placing two glasses of strongly spiced rum in front of the pair, "That'll be the man who'll pay ye the best. Name's Na'alu - a Consortium man. Harsh but fair. Been comin' here for two weeks on some kinda recruitment drive. Seems he's lookin' for day workers t' load up supplies on some big ships the company's sendin' upriver. He's the only one like t'pay newcomers like yerselves more'n a few coppers. I've heard the color o' his currency is silver, and more'n a little silver at that! Ye also get a free meal at lunch. Work ye like dogs, no doubt, fer the pay - but it's good pay. As I was sayin', the Aspis Consortium's the best thing t' happen t' Bloodcove in a good long while."
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"Friends, I am not sure I am keen to ... sign up. Methinks that I might just wander about the town ... blending in. I will try to stay close to this ... warehouse at dock 22."
The thought of once again performing manual labor for this society has caused the red to form at his ears. Why did I leave Kyonin again? Surely not to work a warehouse dock
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Cyrus nods at the barkeep and his suggestion. "I suppose there isn't much of a better way to introduce myself to the consortium then with this opportunity. Best of both worlds it looks like, getting me off that ship at the same time." Cyrus makes a point to emphasize the correct pronunciation of consortium, imitating the bartender, though not with any intended insult.
"Almost too good to be true, right?" he says with a forced smile. Whatever gets me off that cursed ship
While the circumstances around when and where he is getting off the ship may not be accurate to the conversation at hand, his feelings behind the words are oh so true.
Mental note - Bartender is a friend of the snakes. Better let Ibid know... I wonder if the waitresses agree.
As he wanders over to the table to sign up for the dock work, Cyrus makes a point to pass one of the waitresses. He flashes a sly grin as she gets close,
"Milady, please forgive me for being so direct, but I would appreciate the direction, as it seems I am about to make a significant, life altering decision. Does a free-spirited, world traveling man light your inner fire and passion, or is your fancy better tickled by a purpose driven man, destined to climb the ranks of, say, the consortium?" Cyrus leans in, trying not to be too pushy, but still making it clear to the intentions he is hinting at.
Hopefully this one is a bit of a flirt, otherwise this smack is going to hurt. And hopefully she actually answers the question... Then I'll know if the waitresses are with the bartender, or are only helping for lack of a better option...
"Climb the ranks?" asks the ebony-skinned waitress, raising an eyebrow at the scrawny ninja, "My inner fire lights only for men with true power - like that Garundi you're traveling with. Now there's a real man. Byshek Obiel over there's got some pull with the Consortium, but it don't impress me none. So long as he keeps payin' me and I don't have to eat off that bar, he can do what he likes."
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Cyrus smiles a thin smile, and turns to get in line to sign up for the dock work.
Something tells me all this work is in preparation for that mission into the Mwangi. This might be our best chance to sabotage from within.
Cyrus makes it a point to make eye contact with all of his friends as he gets in line to sign up for the dock work. At least they will know his intention and he is quite sure they made the same connection between the expedition and these preparations. He fully trusts each of them to make the right decision on how to move forward whether they join him or not, they all know what they need to do and there is no doubt in his mind that each task will be completed.
Cyrus gets the impression that so long as the barmaid is getting paid, she is happy with whoever is in charge. He does discover that she is getting paid more since the Aspis Consortium rolled into town, so she does have a slightly more positive attitude towards them than the previous regime (pirate lords).
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Amaranti happens to overhear the conversation between Cyrus and the waitress. Delighted of the comment, the Garundi joins the pair, putting up his manliest pose. Considering his size, that isn't even so hard to accomplish. "Hello, pretty. When you stop work? You can show me around town, yes? I show you my secret snake." he verbally approaches the waitress, his voice low and full of macho.
"Oh, hi baby! I was hopin' you'd stop by. My name's Watina," she says, turning completely away from Cyrus with an lascivious grin on her face, "I can think of a number o' things I can take you on a tour of. You stayin' at the Witchlight or do y'need me to show you to another... location?" The waitress sidles up to Amaranti, her hands trying to covertly pull back her work shift to reveal more of her ebony curves. Hey, he might not be subtle, she thinks to herself, But neither are those muscles. Mmm hmm.
Na'alu favors Gunari with a big grin, "Oh I catch your drift," he says cheerfully, "Dock work. Lifting crates from one place, putting them in another. Tomorrow. Warehouse at dock twenty two. Pay is ten silver. Best pay you ever got for such work. Lunch is at midday, half an hour, then back to work. Work hard, maybe we talk about any sort of work I've got. For now, you lift boxes. All day, morning to night or you get no pay. Understand?
"Names go here," Na'alu points to the paper in front of him, it repeats what he said and has ten spaces for workers, three of which have already been filled out, "Do your other friends want work, too? Still got spots. Looks like they could fill almost all of them, then I get to relax for the afternoon.
"I take it you've heard about the Aspis Consortium," he continues, clearly in a chatty mood, "You'll be working for them. The Consortium provides jobs, food, and wealth to a region that had nothing but sticks and mud before. Under its leadership, the people here have begun to enjoy the luxuries of the civilized world. This could be the start of something big for two strong fellows like yourselves... and your other friends. Always work to be had for hands that are willing. Reckon I could even find something for that urchin - or is he a halfling? never can tell - to do. Guards are all well and good, but they need better eyes out there. Thieves are everywhere... and not all of them are ours!"
Na'alu gives a big belly laugh at that and slaps the table.
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Cyrus finally makes his way over behind Gunari, hearing that the entire group has been 'invited'. He nods to the man, expecting his name will be added to the list.
"Lifting boxes. Tomorrow. I'll be there. Better than that ship." He mutters the last part as he walks back towards the bar.
"Keep - I need a room. Not sure for how long." The sour look on his face never really leaves, and he makes his way up to spend some time alone before the long day of hard labor ahead.
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As the others mingle, Miro puts on his best mercenary look, squinting his eyes slightly and giving people mistrusting looks when they pass by. He occasionally fingers the small sword at his belt, as if to draw it. He reads over the notice in his hands, moving his lips as though he is having trouble reading it. Instead, he is starting to search for the encryption they were sent to find.
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"A job that pays is as good as any," says the old man to Na'alu, scratching a name untidily on to the roster. "Direct me as you see fit and tell me what needs to be done... I will see it through." The sweltering heat seeming to get to him again, Ibid brushes a few sweat-soaked tangles of hair from his brow with a faded jacket sleeve.
The old man then moves to the counter and books a room for a few consecutive nights, hoping the idea of an extended stay will help him seem less obviously like a visiting pathfinder. A moment later, he retraces his steps to the table to see how the others will be proceeding, and sits, sipping his relatively cool drink.
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Watching all the Pathfinders make their way to the table, and sign up, Finarin sighs loudly. Pushing back he approaches Na'alu.
"Ah, yes, I believe that I sign up here for the dock work. You say it is a half an hour lunch? Sounds splendid. When do I report there?"
Talking without his customary pause yet again, Finarin looks at Na'alu for confirmation of when he is supposed to depart.
After receiving his answer he moves to the barkeep. "Ah yes my good sir. What is your going rate for accommodation here? I do believe that if the work is profitable, I might be here for the foreseeable future."
After a quick negotiation, Finarin rejoins his companions, hoping to get a look at the bounty.
Everyone who signs up is told the location of the Warehouse . You are to meet there at dawn tomorrow where you will be taken to your work stations by your crew leader.
After briefly reading it over, Miro pockets the message and makes for the newly booked rooms. The Pathfinders all complete their business and follow. Amaranti obtains his own room, as he will be having an additional visitor this evening. The rooms are mold-ridden, and (like everywhere in this humid jungle land) overrun by insects of all varieties. Mosquitos prove the most troublesome. Luckily, though, the beds are soft enough and should provide a good night's sleep when the time comes.
For now, though, everyone is passing around the cryptic bounty posting.
I am calling upon any who are willing to take up the call and search every part of Bloodcove to find my missing amulet! The artifact is in fact an heirloom called the Terra Fas DeQuere, a jewel-studded pendant that has been passed down for generations by my family. It was stolen by vile thieves from my household at some point in the last week. I am seeking any information leading to its recovery or to any of the lowlifes mixed up in this most heinous crime! Bring your information to the bounty office to receive your reward.
Reward: 342 Gold Pieces to be paid by the bounty poster, Kreighton Shaine, upon return of his valuables.
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Once they are safety in their rooms, checking for eavesdroppers, Fianrin again scans the bounty. He quickly casts Detect Magic since it referenced one of his former teachers of the arcane.
Stolen by vile thieves from my household
"Cyrus, I do believe that you are on the correct ... trail. Could this mean that it is the ... Pathfinder house? Or a Pathfinder that has turned?"
Continuing on, "Terra Fas DeQuere must have some ... other meaning or significance. Let's unscramble these letters to see if it means ... anything. Possiblly the capital letter are the beginnings of ... words"
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"Agreed, Gunari," Ibid says, looking over the man's shoulder at the sheet. "That price seems oddly specific."
Next the old man opens to a fresh page of his large, weatherworn journal and begins to write various combinations of the letters which compose the words 'Terra Fas DeQuere'. "Well thought out, Finarin. It probably is an anagram of some form..." Ibid says without lifting his eyes from the page.
Terra = 5 letters
Fas = 3 letters
DeQuere = 7 letters
Total letters used = 15
A A D E E E E F Q R R R S T U
Efreet (6 letters)
Treasures (9 letters)
Requested (9 letters)
Star (4 letters)
Quarters (8 letters)
Defeat (6 letters)
Tree (4 letters)
Arrested (8 letters)
Deserter (8 letters)
Fated (5 letters)
After writing a string of anagrams, the old man continues slowly tapping the page, creating a galaxy of little black splotches off to one side of the page.
Ibid has indeed heard of Free Trade Square, as has Finarin (who only recently was flipping through a book on Bloodcove). The Pathfinders turn to that book and find that Free Trade Square is the marketplace in Bloodcove. Permanent stalls exist at the Square along with transient ones. The permanent stalls are all numbered. Many examples of the more exotic or finer numbered stores that have stood the test of time are given, but 342 is missing. It seems that 340: Aeon's Spiced Lamb and 349: Jean-Paul's Varisian Gems are both more worthy establishments than whatever is located at 342.
Well, semipermanent stalls - the owners can frequently change hands, sometimes not at all. It depends on how well they pay the protection rackets, among other things. The guidebook doesn't say this, but it may be inferred (Ibidopedia agrees).
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"I follow your logic Gunari... wait... do you need another drink? You feeling ok? Anyways... We still have plenty of daylight today. I say we head out to find Free Trade Square, if it exists, and look for something with 342 on it. Once we find it, we should go see Novaria, the lady who may or may not be able to help us. We might as well get this done today so hopefully we have a better idea of what we are getting into tomorrow."
Cyrus grabs his gear, double checks his wrist sheaths, and pulls a weatherworn tunic over his crossed bandoliers. His newly enchanted wakizashi is securely in its scabbard, and he makes to go out the door.
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Looking at Gunari's empty tankard, Finarin shoots Cyrus a reproving look. "Are we really encouraging him to .... drink more? I for one would also prefer to head to Free Trade Square. I wonder if we can use the clandestine code word .... we are looking for Kreighton Shaine's lost amulet. After that I would rather check out the ...warehouse. I would pray to avoid it, but I fear Nethys' indifference will not assist me in avoiding more .... labor."
Finarin also readies himself to depart.
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"Another drink? Why thank you, don't mind if I do! So, if there is no booth 342, and we are looking for an amulet, which would be considered jewelry, no doubt, perhaps we should stop at the the Varisian Gems place. I wonder if that's a euphemism... my cousin Sirena certainly is a Varisian gem!"
Gunari has that puzzled look on his face again... the sort that usually ends up in him jumping through the grates of a slave ship!
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The old man nods in agreement, to first proceed to Free Trade Square and search for booth number three-hundred and forty-two. Unsure what they will find there, Ibid prepares for this excursion as he would any other pathfinder mission. A thought crosses his mind as he collects his supplies, and arranges them on his person, Could the Consortium have agents which already deciphered the bounty sheet and have Free Trade Square watched? Either way, even if it is unlikely, or even impossible, we should treat all our actions as if we are being watched...
"Is everyone ready?" Ibid asks, signaling that he is in fact ready to head out. "If so, I believe this fifth column of ours can move to our next objective."
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A smile cracks the face of the sour ninja at the mention of Sirena, then another at the thought of Sirena and Sheeba bickering. No reason not for the young man to think anything else than they must be bickering over him.
He moves out the door, ready to find out if him and his companions have indeed solved the riddle of the cypher.
The group makes their way towards the Free Trade square . Shanty-houses abound in the main portion of town, most seem to be using the numerous mangrove trees and roots for structural support. Since the trees are still growing this has had humorous and disastrous consequences for the home owners. Some houses have clearly been split apart slowly, and have a completely different type of building material filling in the gap. Gunari, with his background in engineering, is appalled at the workmanship and concerned that the buildings may fall down at any moment. Just as well he's been 'fortified' for the day or this could be really worrying.
The noises and smells that greeted the Pathfinders on their river journey are now amplified many times over. The Pathfinders are forced to skirt around the most direct route at times to avoid a hideous, festering smell that would surely cause the contents of their stomachs to be forcefully ejected. The streets are crowded, and passers-by frequently bump into the group with nary an apology. Several times, these individuals bump into the Pathfinders on purpose and reach into their pockets. Fortunately, the group is ready for such strategies and manages to hold onto their valuables. Luckily for the pick-pockets, the Pathfinders want to avoid attracting attention, so the would-be-thieves receive no more than a back-hand to the face before scurrying off to find less alert victims.
Free Trade Square is the busiest part of Bloodcove. The streets swarm with merchants and wagons buying, selling, and transporting food, spices, and antiquities. Lot number 342 sits on the southeastern edge of the market, bordering the fringes of Warehouse Row. A run-down-looking stall dealing in lamps and oil occupies the space, though the poor quality of the lamps may be an indicator of why no customers are anywhere near the stall. The owner, a thoroughly bored middle aged Mwangi man, sits behind the counter making fishing lures.
Despite his clear proficiency with lures, the stall is called Omombo's Lamps and stocks only the lamps and oils you would expect from the name. As the undercover Pathfinders approach the stall, the man sitting there barely looks up. He rolls his eyes and returns to making fishing lures.
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Cyrus turns to his companions, and intentionally says just a little too loud to be secretive, "This can't be the place guys. Not an amulet in sight, this shopkeep does lamps and... fishing lures. Unless..." now turning to the shop owner, "You don't turn amulets into fishing lures do you?" Taking a deep breath, and hoping beyond hope that he doesn't blow the group's cover to the wrong person, he takes Finarin's suggestion.
"We are looking for Kreighton Shane's lost amulet."
I hope my voice didn't quiver too much when I asked that...
His palms are a touch sweaty, and his heart rate picks up a bit, in anticipation of something that could go horribly wrong at any moment. Already his eyes have picked out two different routes by which to disappear into the bustle of the market in the mangrove roots.
"What the hell do I care about an amulet lost by some fool called Kreighton Sh..." the man's eyes snap up as his brain makes the connection and says urgently and quietly, "Shut up! Be quiet, damn it. Around back. Now. Meet you there in a minute. Try to be subtle."
After what must be much longer than a minute, he emerges from the back of the stall with a small clay oil lamp in one hand. He looks furtively around to make sure no-one is watching and, at last, hands the small lamp over to Cyrus, "This will lead you to what you seek. Only one of your number can use it, but keep it protected and out of sight as much as you can. I know nothing else about this thing, and am glad to be rid of it. Good luck.”
With that Omombo returns to his stall and his fishing lures.
As Cyrus handles the lamp, he notices that it is incredibly crudely made - and may not even function properly as a lamp at all. He notices further that there is something baked inside it. the thing rattles and jingles and definitely does not seem like a piece of broken clay.
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Cyrus takes a close look at the crude lamp, shaking it gently to get a better feel for the sound it makes, much like a small child trying to guess the toy inside the wrapped box. He thinks about breaking it open for a moment, but holds off, deep in concentration, deciding that perhaps there might be a secret catch, or latch that might open it up.
Cyrus studies the lamp in great detail. People start to look askew at the Keleshite staring at a very poor quality lamp for so long. Eventually, he notices and self-consciously tucks it away. One thing he is certain of, though, there is no getting to whatever is inside the lamp without breaking it. Luckily the lamp is both useless and worthless.
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Interested in the new things, Gunari will cast detect magic and try and determine what sort of magic is in there. If Cyrus is able to get whatever is rattling out, even better. ( )
He tries to identify what the item's enchantment is (assuming, of course, there is one).
"Careful with that, Cyrus. You never know what might come out of that!"
'If only Gilligan were better trained... maybe I'd have him take it out. He's the most expendable member here. I won't tell him, that, though.'
EDIT: Cyrus'd by the GM... still this should work, since it shouldn't block detect magic.
Adding to the strangeness of their activity, as well as the strange looks they receive, Gunari mutters an enchantment and focuses on the lamp. It does not detect as magic, but whatever is inside it certainly does. The aura Gunari detects radiates moderate divination and evocation magic, but he is unable to identify what the item is without examining it first hand.
Finding a street corner or alleyway where there aren't crowds of people in Bloodcove is all but impossible, so the companions take the lamp back to the Inn. Eventually they decide to smash the lamp to reveal a hematite stone. Initial findings leave Gunari uncertain as to its function. It is only with Amaranti and Finarin's aid and a long, detailed inspection and experimentation that the three spell casters are able to determine that it is a flawed hematite sphere ioun stone. These stones have been pioneered by the Pathfinder Society, and Kreighton Shaine specifically. Without their links to the Society, they doubt they'd have been able to fully determine the stone's function at all.
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"Excellent! With this, we should be able to find our hiding lady, assuming she wears a mate to this one. Let us be off, when you all are ready! I am anxious to meet this Malika and get to the next phase of our mission. I think we really have quite a skill for sabotage and deception!" He laughs eagerly, anxious to go.