For the last four millenia The Isle of Jalmeray, a former outpost of the faraway kingdoms of Vudra, has long been an isolated pocket of Vudrani culture in the Inner Sea. Its location in the Obari Ocean between Nex and Qadira makes the "impossible kingdom" more accessible than the far flung eastern reaches of Casmaron. The inhabitants of Jalmeray include an unusually high number of monks, and other mystics. The island is home to dozens of monastic orders. The prowess of their martial artists is renowned across continents, and the three Houses of Perfection (the Monastery of Untwisting Iron, the Monastery of Unfolding Wind and the Monastery of Unblinking Flame) are the most sought-after monasteries of the Inner Sea region. To qualify for training at one of the Houses of Perfection, the potential applicant must complete daunting entrance trials, such as racing a djinni that is as swift as the wind, wrestling a stony shaitan, and outwitting a cunning efreeti. The many who fail to pass these rigorous tests but still show potential can find training at one of the "lesser" centers of martial learning on the island. One such place is the secretive House of Five Elements. Few have heard of the monastery, and even fewer are allowed to study there. The House of Five Elements is the foremost place in the Western hemisphere to train students in the art of elemental magic called kinesis. Master kineticists of all elements reside there, where they strenuously test potential students for the most capable of elemental channelers. Rather than learning to use their bodies as weapons, the monks in the House of Five Elements channel raw elemental power in combat. You are one such monk. You have spent decades in training, learning to channel and control your chosen element. In the long tradition of the East, mastery was passed down to you through strict monastic discipline and rigorous training. For most of you, the monastery dominates your memories of the past, having spent most of your lives there. But even the strictest of masters must eventually allow their students out into the world.
All four of you have been called together by Master Roshi, the aged Minkaian abbot of the House of Five Elements. It is whispered among the students that Master Roshi has mastered all five elements. He is rarely seen, and even more rarely heard. A summons to his chambers was enough to set your stomach churning, and your heart fluttering. Had you done something deserving of punishment? The master sits cross-legged on a simple woven bamboo mat in his plain chamber, a small brass bowl of burning incense on the floor before him. His skin is withered with age, his body thin and wiry. Despite this he sits as straight as if his back were made of iron, eyes closed. He is bald, and has a magnificent, long white beard. He does not move until all four of you are in the chamber, then his eyes snap open. "Sit!" he commands. Once all four of you are seated cross-legged in front of him, he continues. "As you all know, we dwellers in the house hold ourselves apart from the outside world. It is not the way of the elements to interfere in the balance of things. However, sometimes imbalance must be corrected. As you may have heard, a cult of Dhalavei is active in Jalmeray."
however. That very night the thakur received a death threat from the forbidden cult.
"I have been approached by a member of the Maurya-Rahm. He is convinced that the House of Five Elements can be trusted because we separate ourselves from the outside world as much as possible, and seek to play no role in politics. Lord Raheem Pandisar has requested that I send a team of my best acolytes to aid him in rooting out and destroying the cult, before their corruption ruins the balance on Jalmeray forever. He feels no one else can be trusted, for the rot might be anywhere." Master Roshi looks at each of you in turn. "You are the four I have chosen for this task. You have been with us for many years, and each of you has learned to master your own element. Will you agree to go forth and represent our monastery in the outer world, to redress the imbalance which is rotting Jalmeray from the inside?"
At the mention of the cult, Drake's lip pulls into an involuntary snarl, showing small tusks. "Dhalavei? That nasty Bit... cult needs to be taken down. I'm in."
Drake isn't tall, less than five foot. Quick and rugged, if not muscular. He doesn't dress the same as most monks, wearing clothes with lots of small pouches and pockets. Over that he wears a shapeless oilskin cloak, old and stained and mottled. He's not particularly distinctive other than being a hobgoblin.
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Nalina is a lovely young woman with raven hair, fair skin (for the moment) and striking blue-green eyes. She wears a beautifully-wrought chain shirt that seems to flow over her like water, as well as dark blue pantaloons and a blue vest with light blue patterning sewn in. She wears dainty white gloves with a curious set of stones set at the base of each finger on the back of her hands.
A quarterstaff is strapped to her back, and a crossbow hangs from her right side. She also has a slew of magic wands strapped along her left hip.
Most in the House of Five Elements know Nalina as the local midwife, and she has delivered countless children within the walls of the monastery (women flock from many nearby towns to be cared for by her during their preganancies). She is also well-recognized as a vocal artist, often singing young ones to sleep and sometimes even performing at celebrations.
"I will accompany my friends here, and keep them away from death's doorstep as much as I am able. I would hope that some of these cult members may be redeemed, as well."
Tall and lean Harsk could be mistaken for a particularly dark human of Garundi ethnicity until closer examination reveals that his skin is, in fact, carrying a sheen of onyx. While he often changes what he wears (relatively speaking as a longer lived race the oread changes styles roughly once a decade) Harsk has, in recent years, settled into tighter fitting fabrics with metallic sheen that compliment his armor and devotion to the study of earth and metal.
Hark's voice is deep but he does not speak loudly, Born an outsider, I know little about the politics here. But if this cult is as unstable a force as described, then yes I will work to end this threat.
Annurian is tanned and muscular, and could easily be mistaken by a human of vudrani roots - if it wasn't for his pointed ears and hot skin.
The ifrit dresses as a combatant for hire, but a closer look reveals a poor childhood and decades of pain and frustration. If now he's able to control his element, it's fairly obvious it didn't come easy to him.
For the ones in the monastery for more time, they'll probably remember him as the peaceful gardener. He still plants and takes care of the gardens, and despite his monastic attitude, whoever already saw him practicing pyrokinesis knows his fiery inner thoughts.
I don't know about these cults and intrigues, master, but I'll go wherever my path takes me, and I'd be happy to be accompanied by my friends.
"Good. I knew I could rely on you. Gather your things and go into the city. Lord Raheem awaits you at the Thakur's palace. He will give you what information he can to set you on the trail of the cult." Master Roshi stands, signaling the end of the meeting. He bows to each of the students, a sign of respect that they've never received from him before. "You represent the honor of our House, I trust you will not fail."
After the students leave Master Roshi's chambers they are free to do as they please. The monastery is about a day from Niswan on foot. One exciting bonus to receiving their mission at this time is the festival of Yolarati, the traditional Vudrani Festival of Colors. The city should be awash in color and celebration as they pass through.
Drake is ready and down in about ten minutes. To most he seems to sit quietly, perhaps pace a bit. But those who are very perceptive, they will notice the occasional movement in his clothes. Marbles sliding from one tiny pocket on his clothes to another.
Long ago Harsk had purchased the bag that held more than it seemed it could. It was a convenient thing in times like this for he kept most of his possessions in it by habit. Extracting his armor and the mithril knuckles he kept just in case circumstances required a weapon, Harsk is soon ready and waiting...and watching the subtle movements of Drake as he sits quietly.
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As the others were getting ready, Annurian just spent the time enjoying the lights of the festival. From time to time with closed eyes, the Ifrit - which travels light with his backpack - would close his eyes and just peacefully concentrate on the sounds around. There's fire... Fireworks... - he'd dream to himself, letting smiles of a stolen childhood escape.
Once the group is ready, they begin their journey across the island to the city of Niswan. The people of Jalmeray are in a festive mood. Evidence of Yolarati is everywhere. As the group moves from village to monastery to inn to village on their way through the jungle, they observe many locals wearing robes that were once white, but are now smeared with a myriad of colored dye. The normally reserved Vudrani citizens rub multi-hued powders on each other’s faces and yell exuberant, joyful blessings. Elaborate illusions of rainbow patterns, flowing auroras, and sparkling bursts fill the sky or liven otherwise blank walls. Laughing children splash each other with dyed water. The air is a heady cloud of fragrant flavors, and sounds of music and celebration are all around. Mouth-watering delights are generously available, as well as large mugs of thandi, a local drink, to wash them down.
Over the course of the day they make their way out of the interior towards the capital. Niswan is a many-tiered city of pagodas renowned for its beauty. Every building supports colourful silk banners that flutter in the cold ocean winds, and red stone streets crisscross the hillsides. Cosmopolitan Niswan is a meeting place for travellers and scholars from all over Golarion, and offers sights seen nowhere else in the region. Here, gold-draped eunuchs walk the streets, and Vudran princes offering strange tribute to statues of their gods. In the center of the city stands the highest tier. As the group makes their way through the riotous festival atmosphere they come upon more and more wealthy homes. The highest caste families and most important members of the Maurya-Rahm live in mansions on the slopes below the palace. There are numerous warriors living here—both the Thakur's elite guards, and the personal guards of the wealthy.
The luxurious palace of the thakur himself stands upon the highest point in the city. It is an architectural masterpiece of many tiered towers and soaring bridges. A servant meets them at the gates and informs them that they are expected. He leads them into the palace itself. Towering palatial chambers supported by elaborately carved pillars surround an ornamental stream that flows through the palace. Halls of polished marble lead to a languidly luxurious sitting room. The thakur himself sits at the far end of the room, his bejeweled turban sparkling in the light shining through the windows. He paints a canvas while watching his baby son in a crib nearby. The ruler of the island acts as if he doesn't even notice the newcomers to his chambers.
A tall, tanned man with a neatly trimmed goatee standing inside the door bows to the emissaries from the House of Five Elements. "I am Lord Rakheem. Thank you for coming." The lord motions to several large and comfortable looking cushions around a low table. "Please, sit, you must be tired from your journey."
Harsk bows in response, "I dare speak for us all when I say we are honored to be of service. " Harsk nods to the others and then moves to sit...
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Annurian bows, greeting the lord, and moves silently to sit.
Drake is uncomfortable in such opulence. He nods and sits. For a second he considers going invisible, but wisely avoids that.
After everyone is seated, Lord Raheem claps his hands, and air elemental servants float forward from hidden wings in the eaves to place trays of chilled fruit, wines, cheeses and cured meats on the table. Raheem sits cross-legged and begins speaking. "Two weeks ago, a favorite cousin of Thakur Kharswan disappeared suddenly. With the help of divination magic, his corpse was found bearing the cult of Dhalavei's ritual sacrificial markings. They....they burned out the corpses eyes and throat with acid..." Raheem closes his eyes for a moment, his disgust evident. "The great Thakur was incensed at the attack on his family. His majesty called on the Maurya-Rahm , and demanded that they outlaw the cult and prohibit the worship of Dhalavei."
Lord Raheem glances sheepishly towards the far end of the massive chambers where the Thakur sits. "We of the Maurya-Rahm warned our most noble Thakur that the killing was a calculated measure. We advised that such a drastic reaction might be unwise. In his infinite wisdom, Lord Kharswan would not relent, however, and a ban on the worship of Dhalavei was enacted." Lord Raheem looks angry. "That very night the thakur received a death threat from the forbidden cult."
He steeples his fingers and gives the acolytes a moment to absorb the information. "I have employed my usual agents in seeking the cult, but they have returned nothing of value. This is not surprising considering Dhalavei's portfolio of internal rot. I suspect the Maurya-Rahm's normal informants to be compromised. That is why I called in the favor from Master Roshi and asked for your aid. I am reasonably certain that you have no interest in the politics of Niswan, and that you have not been infiltrated by the cult. If you agree to help me in my investigation, you and your House will have the eternal gratitude of the Thakur, and we would be willing to pay a reward to each of you from the kingdom's treasury. What say you, friends?"
Harsk offers a gesture of respect supporint Nalina's offer of support. The oread otherwise is quiet waiting to hear what Raheem thinks of Nalina's questions...
Drake has to speak up. He's seen too many cases where people jawed over stupid options because nobody was willing to speak up. "I don't think we have much choice. None of us is good enough at the grift to smooth our way in. Those bastards like hurting people and they'd see it in our eyes. We could sneak, but we'd have to leave Nalina farther back." He turns to her with a shrug, "Nothing personal, you just walk loud."
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Nalina stares at Drake for a moment, not sure if he's joking or just confused. She has a momentary thought that she should sneak up on him later to show him his error, but pushes the thought away as unworthy. Our masters at the monastery would frown on showing such pride in oneself. He will learn my worth, but I will not stoop to flagrantly showing off.
Annurian looks at Dra'Kuran with an expression of surprise. The hobgoblin seem to know a lot about the rest of the group, even if Annurian doesn't even recall seeing him much before today. The Ifrit just ended up guessing they might have known each other from before.
As my brothers and sister from the monastery say, milord - what plan have you in mind for our humble pack of monks? Considering we're not much on the subtle side of the prism, I fear the diplomatic or espionage based solutions might be absolutely out of question.
"Well, since you seem willing to help I would ask that you agree to report only to me before revealing what I know so far."
Lord Rakheem provides the acolytes an official writ of authority affirming that they are working for him, as well as letters of introduction to several people knowledgeable about the cult: Prince Kanvar, a great student of Vudrani history; Lord Mahindra, an infamous rumormonger; Pravezak, the thakur’s spiritual counselor; and Varunasi, a high-caste merchant well acquainted with current regional politics. "These men are the best I have so far. You will need to talk to them yourselves. Do you have any further questions for me? If not, you are free to go begin your work."
Harsk shakes his head indicating that he can think of no more questions below the Lord departs.
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As the group seems to pause, Drake throws out something, "Let's start with the prince and work our way down."
The group makes their leave of the Thakur's palace and goes to seek out the prince. Prince Kanvar is a noble of the scholar caste who lives near the Grand Chronicler’s Circle, in an ancient crumbling mansion filled with scrolls. The princes servants show the acolytes in once they see the writ. Prince Kanvar is a chubby, dark-skinned man wearing an inordinately large turban. "How may I help you fine folk?" he asks.
Annurian greets the noble too, right after the undine, but keeps his silence, limiting himself to shake his head in agreement. He looks at the chubby man in the turban for some seconds, but don't insist too much as to not annoy him.
Harsk follows wordlessly, content to let the others drive the dialog for now.
The scholar-prince looks a bit wary. "An unpleasant subject, but something I do know a little bit about. The Ebon Destroyers have existed since ancient times and are far more prevalent in Vudra than elsewhere on Golarion. Unless the cult wants to leave a message, its victims’ bodies are rarely found. There have been many attempts to eradicate the cult, but the cultists inevitably go into hiding, sometimes for years at a time, and no effort has ever been truly successful at eliminating them. At several points in Vudrani history, they have taken over entire kingdoms, ruling through fear and forcing the populace to worship their foul goddess. The cult often recruits from the lower castes, as their goddess’s aspect of destruction appeals to those who are dissatisfied with their role in society and wish revenge against those of higher status. However, Jalmeray’s caste structure is not as formal as Vudra’s, with far fewer low-caste people, meaning that the cult may work differently here. I'm afraid I don't know anything specific about the currently active cult." The prince looks embarrassed to not be more useful.
You definitely seem to know a lot more than I do, milord. - said Annurian, following up - You said they usually recruit from the lower castes, but not this time. I'd assume you know someone from a higher caste that had been recruited, then...?
He leaves the question in the air, inquisitively looking at the prince.
"I do not. I just know that here on Jalmeray we have less members of the lower castes than in Vudra proper, so there would logically be less of them to join a cult. I have told you all that I know already. I'm sorry it's so meager..." he says, shrugging. None of the group are great at reading people, but the prince appears to be being completely honest and genuine.
Mahindra is an elderly man with a graying beard and fatherly demeanor. He acts as a matchmaker and information broker in the Heights. When presented with Lord Raheem’s letter of introduction, Mahindra thinks for a moment, stroking his beard. "A headless body was recently found in the Commerce District, a particularly gruesome affair unlike even the most violent of Niswan’s crimes. I’ve also heard rumors of informants in the palace guard, though who they sell information to is something even I can’t glean from local chatter. Raheem is a good friend, and you seem like honest folk; I promise to try to find out more. I can also find you dedicated spouses if you’re in the market, heh?" He grins and chuckles. "If you want to check it out, the body was found over on..."
"Thank you. I'm sure that the crime scene will be very helpful."
Harsk bows in thanks to Mahindra, I agree with Drake, this crime will hopefully provide us with clues.
Annurian is shocked by hearing about the crime scene. While he wasn't young, this type of thing always sounded foreign to someone who only wished to spend his entire life meditating in the peace of the everhungry flames.
Since his colleagues were already speaking, the ifrit limited himself to shake his head in agreement. He wondered what kind of complex business they were getting into.
As the group heads to the crime scene to do some follow up investigation, they make their way into the Commerce District. They make their way to the described location and find a successful looking incense shop. A vudrani woman greets the group outside the shop. "Hello. My name is Nabeeka. Unfortunately, we are closed for business at the moment. Is there anything I can do for you?" She looks sad.
Drake doesn't mince words. "We're here investigating the murder. We'd like to see the crime scene to see if there's anything we can use to catch the killers."
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Nalina bows deeply to Nabeeka. "Lady Nabeeka, please forgive my gruff ally. We have been tasked by the Maurya-Rahm to investigate the brutal murder that took place recently. We would be ever so appreciative if you could allow us to look over the scene of that crime and try to determine the killer's nature."
Harsk, not particularly skilled in diplomacy being a child of dwarves after all, stands by to see if the others can convince the woman to give them access...