Aside from a few abstract paintings on the far wall, the small hexagonal office is only scantily decorated with simple and convenient furniture, most of it gathering not a small bit of dust. Scrolls clutter the desk, and fat tomes fill the shelves to the bursting point. The room is lit by two strange, tiny, horned onyx gargoyles on the walls opposite each other, each holding a small glowing prism.
Inside the office, waiting for the office's owner to arrive, three people – Ryder Craw, Kevos Iola and Ferratal – stand appraising each other. You have each been told to report here, in the office of venture-captain Dr. Daniel R. Peterson, to receive your wayfinders and to sort out traveling arrangements.
A little while later, the door opens. A tall and meticulously groomed man walks in together with a just as groomed goblin in Tien fashions. The man looks around briefly, giving each of you a nod before he bids the goblin farewell with a fond smile: "Well, this is it, Tsukitaro, I can't do any more. Thank you once again and good luck. The Doctor should be here in a moment." The man closes the door as he leaves, and you are now four people in the room.
"On the contrary," the Goblin says, his voice shrill as is common for his kind, but surprisingly cultured. "It is I who thank you, for your trust and your support in this venture."
As the Goblin straightens up from his bow, even the less discerning eye may note the little greenskin is wearing a chain shirt and appears to be carrying not one, but three weapons with a rather foreign look about them, not to mention a very serviceable-looking crossbow.
Once the well-groomed man has departed, the Goblin gives a courteous nod to the people already waiting in the room.
"A greeting unto you," it says, its tone polite, its stance appearing relaxed - for now. "I am Tsukitaro. By the kindness of the Pathfinder Society, I am here to join the Cthonian Chroniclers. Might I have the pleasure of your names?"
Kevos raises an eyebrow at the atypically fancy talking goblin. Good grief, now they're talkin like the idyl rich? O' course, most noble folk I've met are scarcely better than the ones that burn and pillage, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before the universe balanced it out. He bends his tall and lanky frame over and extends his hand to the goblin saying, "Mr. Kevos Iola. Welcome to the C team."
The lean, towering mean stands in the corner, ducking to avoid one of the rafters. He looks like a man who has been boiled down to nothing but gristle, with pocks and scars across his face and hands. Lanky blank hair falls down freely to his shoulders and it looks like his left ear was half-bitten off some years ago.
He was already a little wary of the goblin, but now this crazy old man was inside and they were talking to each other like a pair of wizards. World's gone crazy. He bites his tongue, knowing that he's new to this game and he ought to keep his mouth shut on such matters. Savage, eh? Bet I'll even the odds for him. The man gives a grunt to get some attention and speaks in a husky voice. "Ryder Craw." Two sleek pistols are on his belt, which he absentmindedly plays with.
"Don't mind the ugly kid, Tsukitaro. He's on our side, so I've been told." Kevos' eyes get a slighlty crazed gleam for a second. Then he laughs weirdly.
Ferratal looks at the goblin, face growing wider at each word. tThis is amazing. You . . . your educated? he holds out his hand as if this were a greeting. Ferratal looks at his extended hands then shakes himself. Oh. Um, I'm Ferratal. He smiles in open mouthed wonder as he looks at each of their members in turn. Won't this be great?
"Oh yeah! It will be great! Nothing like mind-flensing horrors for breakfast... He pulls a flask from his belt, takes a pull, then offers it out. "Cheap vodka, anyone?"
Ferratal pulls back, his smile faltering for a moment. "What? . . . I mean this team. We're all . . . " he trails off looking around. Finally he speaks again, more firm, "It's going to be a great team." His already tall frame seems to extend as he stands a little straighter, eyes gleaming.
As Kevos extends his hand with the flask, the door opens and a man in a long coat walks in. He pauses at the sight of the extended flask in his path, gives Kevos a short glance, and swipes it. After a long gulp he hands it back with a sigh: "Yes, yes very good, thank you." Heedless of the rest of you, he walks in and seats himself heavily behind the desk. With closed eyes, he starts to massage his temples. One of the gargoyles suddenly spring to life, jumping from the wall and onto the desk, then further down into the lap of the man. He starts to pet the gargoyle absentmindedly, when suddenly life returns to his features as he opens his eyes and looks up at you.
"You're here" he exclaims surprised. Recovering, he continues: "Good, good... We can get started then." As he stands back up the gargoyle flaps our of his lap and onto the desk with a cat-like hiss, and you get a good look of the man. He is rather short, about 5'8", and wears a long, gray woolen coat. His golden blonde hair is just a tad bit too long and hangs like a mane around his angular face and his brown eyes are clear but wearied. As he reaches into his coat, you catch the sight of a revolver hanging from his belt next to a pearl-white wayfinder. From the folds of his coat he produces a small silk purse which he lays on the desk.
He clears his throat before he speaks: "My name is Daniel R. Peterson, and I'm the venture-captain of this lodge. I'd like to formally welcome you to the Chtonian Chroniclers, and as a proof of your membership, extend you this useful token." He pauses to empty the contents of the purse onto the table, and 4 jet-black wayfinders lay before you. He hands one to each of you and shakes your hand briefly. As he hands the last one to Kevos, he clasps his hands together: "So, any questions?"
Ryder quietly watches the long-coated man walk in, eyebrow raises when he suddenly notices them. Long day. His hand twitches on his pistol when the gargoyle moves and he mutters a curse under his breath. Damned magic. With a scowl he relaxes as Daniel starts talking.
Ryder extends a hand to Daniel. "Nice to meet you Mr.Peterson." He gives a quizzical look at the wayfinder in his hand. "Heard about these, useful little tools. So what's the job?"
Kevos shrugs and starts examining the wayfinder. Oooh, now I'm official...
"Hey now, this is a fancy one!"
"Thank you," Tsukitaro says, accepting the Wayfinder with a polite bow.
The Goblin does not verbally chime in with Ryder, but his left ear twitches when the Gunslinger asks his question.
Ferratal reaches for his own Wayfinder and inspects it with a cheery grin. "Thank you sir." Then he turns to listen as the others discuss the job.
"Sooooooooooo.... what horrors await us? Where are we going? What are doing there? Are we likely to survive, and if so how much are we getting paid?"
"Pharasma keep their souls, I'm going to murder those bloody interns! I was very clear in my instructions not to send in anyone ignorant of what they might be heading into." Daniel lets out a soul-draining sigh, closes his eyes and resumes massaging his temples. After a moment he speaks again: "We received a report this morning about a disturbance in Carrion Hill which might be of interest to our organization. The details are vague, but it was directed here, which makes it worth following up on. Your job is to go to Carrion Hill, by means I will explain once you've had a proper chance to back out, and investigate further. Hopefully, the report is nothing too major, but any mentions of monsters toppling houses bears significant threat to ones well being."
Daniel clears his throat before he continues, and looks each of you in the eyes, " I can make no guarantees on the topic of your survival, but we would not send you if we did not believe you had the necessary skills. Your wages will obviously mirror the level of danger, and in the event that, that which is transpiring in Carrion Hill is in fact related to the Dark Tapestry, any related lore or object you bring back here will be cause for further payment. I believe the city of Carrion Hill is offering a reward for dealing with the problem as well."
Daniel has started to pace slowly behind his desk, obviously uncofrotable with this last part: "I'd like to give you one last chance to say no. You were not supposed to have gotten this far without knowing what was up, and for any inconvenience this has caused, I apologize." He looks at you all expectantly as he finishes.
Ryder shrugs. "Sorry chief, wasn't told nothin'." He chews on the idea for a moment.
Ryder scratches at his stubble and nods. "I understand the danger involved. Work has to get done by somebody, might as well be somebody who can handle themselves. I'd say fair warning and proper compensation is fair. I'm in."
Ferratal looks at each of his companions, then the man at the desk, "I wasn't told anything either, but I'm not missing this chance. I'll go." He nods firmly to punctuate his declaration.
"I've been hasslin you guys for field work for years. 'Course I'm goin."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"A creature toppling houses must be bringing harm to the community. I will go," Tsukitaro says, thumbs hooked behind his swordbelt.
Daniel looks slightly stunned by your powerful responses. He blinks once to regain his composure before he speaks: "Yes my colorful little friend, I would say that it does." having regained his composure, he smiles before he continues: "Once again, properly this time, welcome to the Chtonian Chroniclers."
He begins to move the scrolls on his desk around, checking them as he picks them up. Mumbling all the while, he is clearly searching for something: "Now where did I put that scroll." As he picks up a particularly fresh-looking bunch of scrolls he exclaims: "There it is! great, let's get on with it then." As he talks, he moves to the other side, your side, of the desk: "Because of the urgency of the request, you are going to have to be teleported to Carrion Hill. Now, I can't teleport you into the city, as I have never been there myself, but I can teleport you to Cesca."
At this point Daniel begins to speak rapidly, as if he suddenly remembers that you're actually in a hurry: "Cesca is a small town in the Varno county, and lies about 60 miles east of Carrion Hill. Once there, I suggest you procure horses from Warder Romeyl Kaimain at Archerhome, Cesca's temple dedicated to Erastil. Simply show him your wayfinders and tell him your destination, and he should supply each of you with a fine steed that should get you there before sundown. Once you arrive in Carrion Hill, seek out Mayor Heggry. He should be able to explain the situation properly."
"You will travel to Cesca by means of a Teleportation Circle, which I will cast from this scroll." Daniel holds up the scroll he picked up earlier "It will take me 10 minutes to cast the spell, and I will have to be undisturbed while I do it. I suggest you leave and make yourselves ready, and then come back in 10 minutes for departure. I suggest asking the interns for a map, even if you have already been to the area."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Ah... I have no need of horses. I already have a mount," Tsukitaro says, ears folding back at the mention of such Goblin-hated monsters as the iron-hooved ones...
"Teleportation?" Ryder says, a little uncomfortable with the notion. I suppose it's the fastest way. He nods and ducks outside.
Ferratal's eyes open wide at the mention of teleportation. He nods, but remains quiet. He wanders around the room, full of nervous energy as he waits for the spell to complete.
After acquiring a set of maps of Ustalav and Carrion Hill, and picking up Tsukitaro's donkey Donkey, you return to Daniel's office. The door is ajar, and as you enter you can see that the desk has been pushed to the side and the floor cleared of any and all clutter. On the floor, in the middle of the room, you notice a fairly large circle, about 10 feet in diameter, that seems to be comprised of shimmering dust. Flanking this circle are the two gargoyles previously on the wall, but currently on the floor.
"Hello again" Daniel sits next to his desk and to the side, "The Teleportation Circle is ready, so whenever you are, simply step inside the circle and you should arrive in Cesca." He gestures toward the circle on the floor. You notice that he looks slightly exhausted, and he seems to be sweating a fair bit. "I think the Lodge's next project is a proper teleportation chamber. It's not exactly a walk in the park to cast such a spell, and I'm not even particularly skilled at spellcraft." He gives a faint smile and then adds: "Well then, who first?"
Kevos knows that Carrion Hill gets its name from the fact that the city itself is built on the conquered and vanquished bones of previous cities—the site is no stranger to the carrion left in the wake of wars and famines and plagues. The current occupants took the city in 4258 AR after the city had been abandoned for 41 years after the previous occupants, Taldan Aroden worshipers and soldiers of the Shining Crusade, abandoned it.
He also has a fair idea of where to search for a full write up of the history of Carrion Hill in the library of Lepidstadt University. During his 10 minutes "downtime" he could very well have gone and picked up a few sources on Carrion Hill for perusal at a later time.
Kevos knows that Carrion Hill is also called the Boil, or, more basely, the Wart. It's a small city with a population of 9000 and some.
Carrion Hill is split into three districts. Atop the hill, the Crown serves as the home for the city’s nobility, government, and most of its public works. The hill’s slopes are a thick tangle of buildings and maze-like alleyways; this is the Tangle, where the bulk of the shops and residences can be found. The lowest part of the city, both physically and spiritually, is the Filth, a series of islands both natural and artificial, connected by old boardwalks and stone bridges. The city’s poor and desperate dwell here, as do those industries so vital to the city’s prosperity but so unwanted by its citizens—tanners, gong farmers, street cleaners, the fisheries, and the looming middenstone vats. Yet the Filth is also the city gateway, as the vast majority of Carrion Hill’s visitors arrive by riverboat or barge via the district's refuse-choked canals.
Carrion Hill is also called the isle of 10,000 temples, and although the nickname is a significant exaggeration, it seems that places of worship for gods both vast and slight grow from the very land. Shrines the size of cupboards, painted representations of gods with an offering of flowers beneath, rub shoulders with churches that somehow squeeze balcony upon balcony in tiny frames over almost decadently elaborate pulpits, and above all is the grandest place on the hill—the Ossuary Church of Pharasma.
In addition, he knows that the current mayor is Vanton Heggry, and that the local law enforcement is called The Crows.
"Age before beauty kiddos," says Kevos sarcastically, and after looking at his companions, he adds, "Well, I got both on all o' you but the elfling, so I'm first anyway harharhar."
As Ryder walks in and sees the teleportation circle, his heart starts pounding. They wouldn't do nothin' to you like this. If they meant you harm they wouldn't go to this kind of trouble. He swallows the lump in his throat and slowly steps into the circle after Kevos, trying to mask his fear of the unknown magic behind a slight sneer.
Ferratal steps looks at Kevos, confused for a moment. Then laughs. I will gladly allow you to go first, despite the fact that I am much older and much better looking. He laughs again, a twinkle in his eye. Once Ryder and Kevos are through, Ferratal follows, trying to make himself small as he steps into the circle.
As you enter the circle of teleportation, you feel a strange sensation: as if the world revolves around, and moves, to accomodate you. The sensation lasts for barely a moment, and when it dissapates, you realize you had closed your eyes, and you are left with only a lingering sense of awe.
As you open your eyes again, you see that the teleportation must have worked, because you're no longer in the musty underground office of the chtonian lodge. Instead, you find yourself outside under a clear blue sky, sun already baking despite the still early hour of the day. You stand by a tree near a bridge crossing a small river, and on the other side Cesca crowns a gradual slope. As if wary of leaving the safety of the hill, narrow streets wind up between quaintly cramped buildings of clay and weathered fieldstone, creating a labyrinth of hidden courtyards and shadowed alleys—some so tight as to prevent even cats from squeezing through. Quoins etched with the faces, crests, or names of builders and past residents adorn the oldest homes, with each generation apparently adding their own mark upon a building.
A man with a mule pulling a small cart full of carrots, lettuce, onions and potatoes towards Cesca stops dead in his tracks in shock at your sudden appearance, his mule whinnying with surprise.
Back at the lodge, Donkey is hesitant with entering the circle. It might not be a smart animal, but it has a great sense of self-preservation, and 3 people have just disappeared out of thin air on that spot. No way it's moving as you wish it in such an agitated state.
Ryder breathes out slowly. Well that wasn't so bad. He adjusts his hat to protect him from the blistering sun, then takes on his surroundings. He gives a slack jawed grin at the merchant, which ends up looking more menacing than inviting. Then he frowns and looks around again. "Where's that little goblin at?"
Ferratal tries a smile at the man coming down the road, but his smile slips as his stomach catches up. He turns, green-faced to the others. But there is only a slight waver to his voice as he says, He was right behind us. Despite this assurance, his brows pull together and he adds a question, Wasn't he?
With a mixture of gentle words, an offer of a fresh carrot and some judicious shoves and nudges, Tsukitaro tries to get Donkey into the magic circle.
"I think I saw him with a donkey... Err..." Kevos shrugs.
The man hurries along down the road, looking back over his shoulder more often than not, clearly agitated.
"Hmm, we should have sent the donkey through first, I see that now." Daniel thinks out loud. Donkey is not easily persuaded, but after about a minute, Donkey finally gives way to Tsukitaro's persuasion and walks into the Teleportation Circle with him. After the effects pass, Donkey is surprisingly calm.
"Ah, here he is, donkey and all!" Kevos reaches for his flask and realizes he left it behind. "Aww, I'll be cursed. Spirits take you!"
Ryder nods as the last of their party arrived. "Good. Let's get on the road then." He flicks a copper to the merchant and takes a carrot, munching on it as they take to the road. "Think I might go scout ahead."
Tsukitaro! You made it, Ferratal exclaims as the goblin and his donkey make it through. I was worried you had changed your mind. He laughs as if this were a clever joke. Come, let's get those horses and be on our way.
"I apologize for the delay," Tsukitaro says while scratching his grey mount behind the ear. "My trusty steed had misgivings about entering the teleportation circle."
The Goblin scurries up into the donkey's saddle and takes up the reins.
"Let us depart for our next destination," he suggests.
Your next destination is the Erastil temple called Archerhome in Cesca. You're not quite certain where in Cesca it is, but it shouldn't be too hard to find. It's only a small town afterall.
You cross the small but sturdy stone bridge, and make for the inner city, following the vegetable merchant on the road heading north. After awhile, the road turns south west and into town. You immediately spot two notable features: First, the merchant you followed has started to put up a small stall at what seems to be a market square with a large fountain in the image of a gargoyle. Second, opening out into the market square is what you believe to be a prison. Heavy iron bars adorn every window and each heavy wooden door possesses sturdy locks. Strangely enough though, people walk in and out of the place and they all look curiously festive. As you get closer, you notice music coming from the prison-like building.
People are starting to notice and pay attention to you, looking at you with the common mixture of fearfulness and curiousity, but none have accosted you yet as you reach the market place.
Tsukitaro blinks once and focuses his awareness, scanning the crowd and the prison-like building for the effluvium of malice.
Ryder looks around in confusion. He didn't even know where to start and this town was confusing him already. "So, uh, where should we go? Into the marketplace maybe, ask some questions?"
Kevos eyes up the festivities, and mutters, "Ugh, to much happiness. Must be something unnatural. Probably some horrible cult's holiday." He then clears his throat and says to Ryder, "We need to get to Archerhome. I'm sure it's on the map. Maybe we should ask questions there, not sure I trust this many smiling people."
"I shall rely on you all to ask the questions for the nonce," Tsukitaro says. "My species tends to disconcert people."
Tsukitaro looks out across the crowd. There are a few merchants that emanate a faint aura of evil, but nothing beyond that.
Kevos can't think of a holiday off the top os his head, but he's certain that somewhere out there, there's a cult celebrating this day.
However, as you stand there talking, a gruff looking old man with a cane and only one eye, but apparently sharp ears, overhears you. With a sharp, almost rude tone, he asks you: "You... people going to Archerhome? What for?" The man glances at Tsukitaro as he speaks the word "people", but otherwise tries not to look in the goblin's direction.
"This young goblin here wishes to dedicate himself to Erastil, my dear man! Could you point the way?"
The old man squints at Tsukitaro suspiciously: "You don't say... Well it's easy to find; just follow the road north. When you get to the crossroads, you should be able to spot it." He snorts, apparently disgusted, and makes to move along.
"We thank you for your courteous assistance, venerable one," Tsukitaro says, politely bowing his head to the old man. "If I might ask - what manner of festival is being celebrated?"
Faster and more adroit than you would have expected of such an old man, he whirls around to look back at you, confusion plainly painted on his wringled face. "Was.. was that you?" he asks looking at the goblin, clearly diffident.
"Most assuredly, venerable one," Tsukitaro says, again bowing his head in a respectful manner. "You are clearly a wise elder of the community, and so it seemed most prudent to address my enquiry to you. My apologies if the sound of my voice offends; I am aware of my kin's foul deeds in this part of the world, but can not change the nature of my parentage. Only my own actions may I govern."