For reasons known only by the individual, Rashesh, Jindariel, and Demitri find themselves in Egorian, capitol city of the nation of Cheliax. Despite its fiendish reputation you find the huge city subdued and orderly. The patrols of intimidating Hellknights seem to do an excellent job of keeping the peace.
It’s during this visit that the three of you are contacted by couriers wearing cloaks bound with clasps bearing the symbol of a snake wrapped around a shield.
Jindariel
Demitri
The couriers beg you to accompany them to meet a man by the name Syrio Lamascus.
With the orgy-baths, spice-halls, and various theaters across the captitol no longer holding any wonder for you, you agree to meet with this Syrio and see what he proposes. The meeting place is several blocks away and during your trek you meet up with two other couriers with two more seasoned travelers such as yourself in tow.
Demitri looks around at the others with a suspicious eye."Who are the two of you? Do either of ya know anything about this Syrio fella?"
Rahesh nervously fingered the axe hanging at his side, but forced himself to remain polite. "Alas, I do not. A failed venture has only recently brought me to this northern land and I unfamiliar with the people. The sign of his organization, however, is known to me. My hope is that word of my interest in a position taking me southward again has reached the correct ears."
"Neither do I. Name's Jindariel, Jin, for short if you prefer, huntsman of Sarenrae. And who may you two be?" A longbow is slung over his back and a scimitar and a morningstar hang at his side. You notice he has a severe old burn on the right side of his face.
"You may address me as Rahesh." The southerner gave the other two a short nod and glanced over their copious weaponry, a fair match to his own. "I may perhaps be assuming much, but I begin to suspect that whoever wishes to meet us has a plan in mind that is neither safe or peaceful."
"Name's Demitri."
After the brief introductions the three strangers are brought to a plain single story building within Egorian's merchant quarter. The building is worn, marked by faded paint and missing shingles, but clean. It is unadorned save a simple sign hanging above the front door - Lamascus Imports. One of the couriers opens the front door and brings the three of you inside while the other two take up unassuming positions outside.
The courier leads the group through the building's interior, past the entrance showroom, past the back offices, and down a long flight of stairs taking you under the city's streets. The three of you enter a cellar of sorts. A large heavy oaken tables occupies most of the room with chairs of similar construction line its sides. Magical stones positioned near the ceiling fill the room with soft yellow light. Arcane sigils are painting on the walls of this room every couple feet.
Seated at the head of the table on the far end of the room is an older Chelaxian man of middling height and weight. His silver hair is pulled back neatly exposing the deep lines and sharp angles of his face. He is extremely lean, almost skeletal, but despite his ordinary measurements there is a certain predatory nature to him that leaves you feeling like you are in some sort of danger.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me under such short notice", he says in a low voice, almost a whisper. "Please take a seat. We have much to discuss.
You have no doubt the 'please' wasn't really a request.
"So are you Syrio? If so, what do you want from us?" Demitri asks very bluntly while taking the "invitation" to sit down. It is clear he does not trust this man.
"Demetri, we agreed to this meeting, so let's hear what he has to say, before acting hostile."
"Now, sir, can we get your name, and what is it we can do for you?"
"I'm not being hostile. I'm being direct and to the point." He protests.What is this elf's problem?
The older man remains calm despite Demitri's rudeness, "I am glad to see that the reports I've received of your cool demeanor were not exaggerated", he says to the elf.
Turning back to the group as a whole.
"My name is Syrio Lamascus, current head of Lamascus Imports. I represent a very influential and powerful group of people based here in Cheliax but with interests world wide. One of these interests currently resides across the Narrow Sea deep within the steaming Mwangi jungles".
"Several miles inland is a location the locals call 'The Drowning Stones'. It was the center of worship for some sort of demon cult generations ago, but the Drowning Stones is not what interests us. Near these stones is a great tear in the earth, an opening to the underground labyrinth known as the Darklands. Near this entrance, within the Darklands, is an ancient fortress - a fortress we believe to hold something of great value".
"The group I represent would like to hire the three of you, in addition to a few others that are already on location, to find this fortress, clear it of whatever dangerous creatures have taken up residence, find whatever was hidden there, and return with it us".
"Do I have your interest?"
Rahesh folded his hands for a moment of thought before replying. "You have my curiosity, sir. To brave the Mwangi and the Darklands at once, this thing must be very valuable indeed. For my interest, however, I would very much like to hear more of what I stand to gain from this fabulously dangerous venture."
"So you want us to raid this fortress? Like we're some foolhardy pathfinders? I'm in, but what do you know about this place?" He asks.
You definitely have my interest, sir. I have never found reason to travel to either of the exotic locations just mentioned, so my sense of adventure us piqued but I have to make sure I am doing my goddess' work. Any idea what is being planned inside this dark and spooky fortress?
The older man smiles a little. You cannot shake the feeling it's like looking upon a shark grinning at its prey.
"Of course, in exchange for handling this task for us you will each be rewarded a sum or no less than 8000 gold crowns each plus a cut of whatever wealth can be recovered from the fortress. A quarter will be paid upon arrival at the rendezvous point and the rest will be delivered upon the mission's success".
"As for the location itself I'm afraid we have little in the way of rumors and even less in the way of facts. I can tell you that there are the usual dangers: Deadly wildlife, hostile native tribes, demon-thrall Charau-ka, and dozen other things. More specifically, the reports of that brought us news of this fortress did mention a large number of Serpentfolk in the area. They are deadly creatures. Have you ever dealt with them?"
Demitri seems to be taken back at the mention of a demon-thrall."Who's this Charau-ka? Never heard of him. You don't see serpentfolk in Korvosa, so no I haven't."
"Charau-ka are the apes-who-think-as-men. A dwarf I once knew spoke of their assaults upon Alkenstar. They are said to be a violent race who dress their war banners in human skin." Rahesh frowned at the memories of tales told long ago. "If the snakes with legs I know less. Only stories to frighten children at night. They drink the blood of men, or perhaps swallow them whole, or sacrifice them on the alters of gods who were old when Azlant sank." His gazed turned to their prospective sponsor. "The offer seems generous enough, but I am compelled to wonder of whose making this fortress was, and what it was it guard against. Or are these things I will be well paid not to think too long upon?"
"Also not something you see in Korvosa. So I need to avoid altars then and I'll be fine." Demitri responds to Rahesh.
Syrio raises a brow as the Vudrani man answers the question, "Rahesh speaks truly. The apemen are as ferocious as they are monstrous. You would count yourself fortunate to not encounter them".
"The serpentfolk are another matter. They are old race, older than most records date and they are mysterious. We know little about their culture, their leaders, or their motivations. We do know that they have two distinct castes: pure-bloods and degenerates. The pure-bloods are lithe with potent magical powers to obscure themselves and affect the mind. The degenerates are hulking brutes, as strong as any ogre. Both possess an innate resistance to magic and a deadly poisonous bite".
"As I said, we know little about the fortress. We learned of it from bits and pieces of manuscripts found in ancient ruins dotting the Mwangi. They made mention of wealth, power, and a slumbering prince. None of it makes much sense except for the parts about the wealth and power".
"We only learned of the fortress's location itself recently, but due to certain complications we cannot send our normal operatives in. Based on the descriptions in the reports the structure is old, very old - likely ancient Azlanti, possibly Dwarven", he explains.
Yes, I have heard of the serpentfolk, though I have not hunted them before. They tend to gravitate toward the worship of evil and the sacrifices of innocents, so I will have no problem putting them down if they get in the way. Now, you spoke of finding "what is hidden there." What are you looking for exactly?
"All sounds like fairy tales and folklore to me, but I'll take your word for it. When do we leave?" Demitri asks.
"As I said, we do not know precisely what is hidden in the fortress but it is valuable. We want it. You are to recover it".
At Demitri's question he nods, "So we have an understanding then? You agree to the terms? You have no further questions?"
"Oh and a few more things I forgot to ask. Are they resistant to weapons in any way? Will Truth here do the job? And what complications are you talking about? Some trouble brewing with the Aspis Consortium?" Demitri asks as he indicates his halberd.
"Both castes are extremely durable, many times more resilient than even the strongest human, but they are still flesh and blood and will bleed if you cut them", he says indicating Demitri's weapon.
At the mention of the Aspis the man looks visibly annoyed, "Wherever there are those with affluence and power there will be the weak and craven that look for fault in everything they do. My organization has many enemies, the most persistent of which is the Pathfinder Society. As of late, they have been an extreme nuisance sometimes even attacking our agents without provocation! That is why we sought the three of you out. You will be more or less unknown".
"It's important that your affiliation remain unknown. Tell no one about me or the party I represent. Definitely do not let any Society agent know about your task".
Rahesh nodded slowly. "I come to understand. An ancient ruin, newly uncovered and believed to hold valuables from long ago, but deep in territory so dangerous that it cannot be salvaged by conventional expeditions. A small and unobtrusive team of very dangerous men is required"
A sudden clap of his hands signaled the end of his deliberations. "There must of course be a contract signed. One with the details of dividing shares, claiming of items as personal rewards, penalties for breaches by either side, and so on. But such details can be seen to by your servants, and we need not occupy more of your time. I should like to pack my few belongings so we may depart soon."
"Good to know these monsters aren't immune to Truth. Pathfinders are also a pain in the ass. They get away with tomb raiding and sometimes even murder. Are there any outposts in the area where we can get supplies or should we get what we need here?"
"Yes, of course. I have booked passage for the three of you on the first vessel leaving Westcrown. The ship will take your South to a smuggler's outpost known as Bloodcove. It's a filthy hovel but many travelers pass through there and you should be able to get any additional supplies you need. You'll receive your initial payment and meet the last two members of your team there", Syrio says.
"Beyond that you will be on your own. You may be able to do some trading with some of the more civil Mwangi tribes but I would not count on that".
"Who are we working with? You mentioned them before."
"I do not have the full details on them but they will be introduced to you in Bloodcove. They are both natives. One is of mixed descent, half-Chelaxian and the other is a savage from one of the less hostile local tribes".
"Alright. I got no more questions so I'm good to go after I go make some preparations. Wasn't expecting to head into the jungle today."
"Excellent".
Papers are brought out and contracts are drawn breaking down the terms of the agreement. The cut is surprisingly generous.
You have little time for preparations before you have to find horses to take you to Westcrown. Syrio was not joking when he said you were leaving on the next ship headed that way. The Sibilant Lash leaves at dawn the following day.
You ride hard through the night and arrive on Westcrown's docks with minutes to spare. The crew of the Lash are making the final adjustments before their departure. The captain meets briefly with the three of you, has porters help you bring your things aboard, and a moment later you are off.
The Sibilant Lash is a trading vessel (or at least that's what it's billed as), but the crew of hardened scarred sailors leads you to believe she is anything but a simple merchant's ship. The captain, a balding Chelaxian with a greasy tangle of facial hair, is not hostile but is also not especially friendly. He warns you to stay out of the crew's way and that he'd prefer you stay below decks.
The trip is nearing a month in length and so you are left with nothing else to do but get to know the other members of your small party.
***
The month passes uneventfully and after weeks of tedium aboard the Lash you arrive in Bloodcove.
There are two things you immediately notice upon stepping off the ship onto Mwangi soil. First is the heat. It is hot and humid here, oppressively so. You immediately start sweating profusely and looking around the docks you see others suffering similarly. Second is the stench. The powerful scent of rotting vegitation fills your senses threatening to overpower your senses.
At the foot of the ramp leading from the deck of your ship to Bloodcove's docks is an enormously fat Chelaxian man. Apparently waiting for you, he smiles wide at your arrival (despite the miserable conditions).
"Welcome! Welcome!, he chortles. "Welcome to the Mwangi friends. Come! Come! The others can't wait to meet you!", the fat man says.
Jindariel looks him over and confirms he is quite harmless (if a bit mad) and underneath one of the rolls of his chin you spot the Aspis emblem on a button of his overfilled sweat drenched jerkin. You collect your belongings and follow him.
He leads your group to a squat building made of stone. It is one of the few permanent structures here, the rest are more bivouacs and huts made of hide or thin jungle wood. The oppressive heat is somehow worse within.
Inside is a thickly muscled, short Mwangi man with dark skin and thick black hair. Strapped to his back is a heavy club of polished wood adorned with a number of primitive tribal fetishes.
Adjacent him is another Mwangi man with lighter skill and sharper features marking him as of mixed descent. He leans on an elaborate double-sword and wears a suit of gleaming mithril armor.
The fat man closes the door behind him.
"Good. We're all here now", the fat man says with significantly less mirth.
"These are the other I had told you about", he says to the two Mwangi.
Rahesh spoke a greeting to the two in their native tongue. "Good winds and clean water to you both, brothers. I am Rahesh." Switching back to the common speech he continued, "You will both be our guides for this venture, yes? Is there anything we need do to prepare before we depart for the untamed wilds?" His gaze wandered over the rude building. "Or is it properly the less tamed wilds. This place seems crude enough already."
"Demitri. I told you my name, you should tell me yours." He says very calmly.
The shorter and more plainly dressed of the two walks slowly forward. He stops a a few feet short of Rahesh and inclines his head. Then he smiles broadly, exposing yellowed teeth and extends a callused hand to lay on the left shoulder of Rahesh. The gesture is clearly meant to be friendly but coming from this squat Mwangi man it seems slightly disturbing.
"Obo Okurin lira Zenj", which Rahesh can make out to mean "Ape Man of of the Zenj". He switches to a thickly accented common "Honored person, I Obo, friend." Obo pauses a few moments as in contemplation, and turns to the rest quizzically. "Good trip? Feel well? Soon many days travel." He looks very serious. "Be strong, fight many man snake" He struggles for the words momentarily, then turns back to Rahesh and continues in polyglot. "Wise one, do you have strong magic against the snakes kiss and the breath of the tik-tik fly? I fought these awon ejo okurin (snake men) once, and they are like their small cousins. Their kiss brings death" He bows again and waits patiently for Rahesh to speak.
Jindariel muses as he sees the new members of the group. All humans, except me. Good thing I'll bring some class to this ragtag crew. How rude this short primitive man, only saying hello to Rahesh.
Jindariel clears his throat. Ahem, I am Jindariel, we will all be traveling with you on this journey, so we should get to know each other's strengths in battle.
Rahesh's face twitched before he forced it back into a calm smile. "The spirits do not speak to me, but I am skilled in treating the injured without calling on their aid. Also I carry extracts potent against sickness and venom and know how to brew more should they be needed."
With a turn of his head he replied to Jindariel, "My true skill is with my gun, an alchemical weapon for striking foes at a distance. I also carry a variety of other alchemical weapons and tools for special circumstances. Yourself?"
"I'm good at tying up groups of enemies and keeping their attention without falling on my back. I also know a lot of ways to defend against different maneuvers in combat."
Obo puzzles to himself.
It's easy to tell that Obo has trouble keeping up with the conversation; his dark brows furrow as he tries to pick up on the cadence of the common tongue.
He bows his head deeply to Jindariel, then places his hand gingerly on the elf's shoulder accompanied by the same disturbing, broad grin. "Eldest Jindariel, good to meet. Obo is strong in battle." He motions to Balo. "Two-Swords-as-One also battle strong. You spirit strong? Strong spirits good against man snake"
He then turns to Demitri, sizing him up. "Demitri Not-on-Back, you are strong. Good to travel with you"
Finally Obo turns to Balo and begins speaking polyglot in a hushed tone "Balo Two-Swords-as-One, you speak the words of the Northerners better. Can you ask them if they feel strong and ready? We can leave with tomorrow's early sun."
Would've replied sooner but paizo was down so spent some time playing Total War: Shogun 2 since it takes forever usually.
Adjacent him is another Mwangi man with lighter skill and sharper features marking him as of mixed descent. He leans on an elaborate double-sword and wears a suit of gleaming mithril armor.
This man remains silent as Obo introduces himself, but knowing that they were going to work together he steps foward, keeping himself standing straight like a well trained warrior.
"I'm Balo." he says simply looking over the group. I wonder where that woman is. She was truely a beauty, but I better keep my eyes peeled "Respect the Mwangi. They are great warriors and I'm not going to always be guarding your back. The beasts, you better be cautous of everything." as he said this he touches his necklace that he makes sure to stick out of his armour. It's a string attached to many exotic animal teeth from all kinds of large and fanged beasts.
"You can just call me Demitri. From what I know of your people, I respect the Mwangi. And for the record, I can watch my own back." He replies.
"You can just call me Demitri. From what I know of your people, I respect the Mwangi. And for the record, I can watch my own back." He replies.
Balo nods in his general direction.
"Good. The Mwangi might show you respect if you show them some or scare them into respect." he says simply as he looks over the rest of the group "What...skills do you all have?" he asks as he looks at you all curiously.
He bows his head deeply to Jindariel, then places his hand gingerly on the elf's shoulder accompanied by the same disturbing, broad grin. "Eldest Jindariel, good to meet. Obo is strong in battle." He motions to Balo. "Two-Swords-as-One also battle strong. You spirit strong? Strong spirits good against man snake"Finally Obo turns to Balo and begins speaking polyglot in a hushed tone "Balo Two-Swords-as-One, you speak the words of the Northerners better. Can you ask them if they feel strong and ready? We can leave with tomorrow's early sun."
"I have my mother's spirit and that spirit scared Mwangi tribesmen back into the jungle." he states as he bows towards, Obo, having a respect towards her.
Balo listened to Obo and nods, understandingly before turning to the group.
"Are you all ready to head out? We should head in the morning. Night predators are the worst."he explains to everyone, voicing what Obo wanted to say to the group.
Mine is more of a stealthy approach and attack, either by bow or scimitar. I can vanish a number of times per day and shoot fire, blessed as I am by my goddess. I am a hunter of all that is evil. Can anyone heal, be it by magic or item?
The enormous Chelaxian interrupts, "Before you leave there is the matter of the initial payment I believe you were all promised".
He produces a plain leather sack, no bigger than one of your traveling packs, and reaches inside. From within he pulls five small coffers made of dark lacquered wood and banded in silver. Each is easily the same size, if not bigger, than the bag they came from.
"These are for you", he says. "The rest will be delivered when the terms of your contracts have been fulfilled", he reminds you.
The man pulls a stained kerchief and sops the sweat dripping from his many chins.
"You should be able to get plenty of whatever mundane supplies you need. If you want magical goods that may be a bit tougher. There are two good places for such things, Hasim the healer and the witch Aboba".
"If you are looking for drink there are a dozen good holes here in Bloodcove to find it. If you want company there are girls, and a few boys, at Safira's hostel that can be bought for a time".
Demitri accepts the coffer and puts it away."Where is this Aboba you speak of? Maybe she will have something so I can deal with this heat. Then it some drink and perhaps some time at Safira's." He says wiping the accumulating sweat off his brow.
He gives directions on where each location can be found.
"Well then I'm heading to this Aboba's place." Demitri says as he starts making his way out.
Finding Aboba's shop is not difficult. Inside you meet the witch and her young daughter. Aboba is a short portly Mwangi women (barely four feet tall) with ebony skin. Her curly hair is extremely short and the pair of heavy bone earrings in her lobes have stretched them midway down her neck. The daughter looks much like the mother except a generation younger and thinner.
She laughs when you make your inquiries about something to deal with the heat. It is not a mocking laugh but one that is somehow warm and caring. It seems a group of pathfinders came through Bloodcove less than two days ago and cleared her out of her most potent magical concoctions and trinkets.
Currently, she has the following available for sale:
A cloak made from colorful Toucan feathers that will protect the wearer from all manners of danger.
Four potions that can turn water into potent spirits.
Two potions that can return strength to the weary for a time.
Three potions that will allow the drinker a peaceful restorative night's rest even in the worst heat of the jungle.
A choker of carved chunks of petrified wood that will protect the wearer from many of the diseases carried by things in the jungle.
Five potions that will heal most minor injuries.
She also offers to accompany you on your journey herself (her daughter can run the shop while she is gone) and directly apply her magics.
Obo smiles at the mention of Safira's. It's likely any of Sahira's girls would likely cringe if they saw that smile.
"Good words, Demitri. I go also Aboba for magic-against-sickness, then ale and biggest girl" He motions with his hands to emphasize the last part.
Obo is interested in both potions that "return strength to the weary". He asks to taste them, as he tries to determine what magic they contain.