With a flash of light and a stomach-churning shift, the cool, saline air of Absalom collapses into the stifling, wet heat of the Garundi coast. Within moments, sweat begins to ooze from your pores as the fetid stink of the local climate envelopes you like a damp blanket.
The scroll in Aram Zey’s hands crumbles into dust, its magic spent. The Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells removes his hat and begins fanning himself. “All right Pathfinders, welcome to the blistering hole that is the Mwangi Expanse. Any of you who bother to keep up with your Chronicles know that the Society has an archaelogical expedition working in the Terwa Uplands, about 80 miles northwest of our position. Of course, I doubt if more than half of you read anything but dirty poetry, so allow me to sum up: the Azlant Ridge site shouldn’t be there. There are no known Azlanti sights in the Mwangi Expanse, but here we are. It may be the best-preserved evidence that the Azlanti at least visited the Mwangi Expanse. A servant of Angazhan called Ruthazek the Silverback King claims the site, too. His troops have laid siege to it and our people are starving, dying from disease, and running low on ammunition and personnel, which is where you come in.”
Zey points north through the treeline, to where a ragtag city of boardwalks and wooden buildings straddles a swampy, red river delta. [b] “Your first stop is Bloodcove.” He chokes out the word as if it insulted his mother. “The Azlant Ridge site needs supplies, and Bloodcove is the nearest trade port. They need 2 tons of food and clean water, five crates of arrows and crossbow bolts, and clean dressings for wounds. House Cartahegn is your best choice as the Society works with them occasionally. We already arranged payment to a caravan leader named Raimondo Scevola several weeks ago. Make contact with him to carry everything north. Also, look for a man named Senzer somewhere in town. He was an alchemist funneling potions and information to our team in the Uplands, but he went silent a month ago. You need to find out why and get that stream of potions flowing again.
“Don’t think this will be a simple trip to the market. Bloodcove is a pit founded by pirates and run by criminals—scum with no sense of achievement or appreciation for arcane advancement. Even worse, it’s a stronghold of the Aspis Consortium, which loves nothing more than perverting and profiting from Pathfinder discoveries like Azlant Ridge. Keep your heads down and do nothing to attract suspicion; perhaps adopt a disguise. Normally I don’t give a damn if you heroic types kick in doors, make asses of yourselves, and die, but more than your lives rests on your shoulders now. If you fail and the Azlant Ridge site receives no backup, it will surely fall.”
Aram hands over a coin pouch. “As I said, we arranged payment for your caravan some time ago. This should cover the cost of supplies. If you dip into your own resources and manage to survive, the Society will attempt to reimburse you.
“Once you deal with that business, head northwest.” He presents a sealed scrollcase and an ornate, golden key on a leather thong. “Guard these with your lives. The key’s exact purpose eludes me, but the symbol it bears is repeated on a doorway at Azlant Ridge. The scrollcase contains a map to the dig site. My magics secure the case, though, and it will explode violently if opened within five miles of Bloodcove. I fully expect you all to fail, be captured by the Consortium, and then tortured, which is why I insisted on not revealing the Azlant Ridge’s location to any of you directly.
“Now ask your questions now. I return to Absalom the moment I believe you capable of getting to Bloodcove.”
The three of you know a couple things about Bloodcove.
1. The local elite elect a Grand Admiral, who rules Bloodcove for life. The Admiral enforces a strict hands-off economic policy and very little else.
2. Fiercely competitive trading houses wield the genuine power behind Bloodcove politics, with the Aspis Consortium currently dominating the political and economic scene. House Cartahegn fiercely opposes its rivals in the Consortium, and makes an acceptable fairweather friend in this area.
Faction Missions:
As you listen to the details of your current mission for the Society, your thoughts stray to the favor asked of you by representatives of your faction. The message was left for you in the usual way, and you can still see the letter in your mind...
Servant of the Satrap,
The Mwangi interior provides many profitable luxuries for our market stalls, but information rules every merchant. Keep an ear to the ground in Bloodcove, and learn what local goods may be in surplus this season so we may begin raising a demand for them in Absalom now.
Enclosed you will also find sealed documents—forged contracts with which we hope to sow discord. See to it these contracts find their way into the possession of a reasonably important Aspis Consortium corpse for their comrades to discover.
Sincerely,
Pasha Muhlia Al-Jakri
As you listen to the details of your current mission for the Society, your thoughts stray to the favor asked of you by representatives of your faction. The message was left for you in the usual way, and you can still see the letter in your mind...
Loyal Servant of the Emperor,
After a rather embarrassing bout of courtly intrigue, I find myself saddled with a cursed crocodile idol. Ignore the specifics as to how I know this, but it must be returned to the waters of the Mwangi immediately! I suppose any water will do, but it should be somewhere no one else will discover it. The smiling crocodile god must never again leave the jungle!
If time remains, try to find your way into the Cartahegn Sugarpress there in Bloodcove. The bastards make a fortune keeping Taldan bakeries here in Absalom knee deep in sugar, and if you could find any recent shipping records, it should give us an insight for upcoming negotiations.
For Taldor!
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
As you listen to the details of your current mission for the Society, your thoughts stray to the favor asked of you by representatives of your faction. The message was left for you in the usual way, but was marked with the seal of Taldor. You have heard that the Sczarni occasionally do them favors and assume this is one of those times. You can still see the letter in your mind...
Loyal Servant,
After a rather embarrassing bout of courtly intrigue, I find myself saddled with a cursed crocodile idol. Ignore the specifics as to how I know this, but it must be returned to the waters of the Mwangi immediately! I suppose any water will do, but it should be somewhere no one else will discover it. The smiling crocodile god must never again leave the jungle!
You travel with another Pathfinder by the name of Shel who is in need of your assistance on a personal matter for the great nation of Taldor.
If time remains, try to find your way into the Cartahegn Sugarpress there in Bloodcove. The bastards make a fortune keeping Taldan bakeries here in Absalom knee deep in sugar, and if you could find any recent shipping records, it should give us an insight for upcoming negotiations.
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
As you listen to the details of your current mission for the Society, your thoughts stray to the favor asked of you by representatives of your faction. The message was left for you in the usual way, and you can still see the letter in your mind...
Trusted Servant of the Ruby Prince,
Some years ago, the Sothan Alchemical Academy lost one of its more promising alumni to Bloodcove. While the skills of Senzer Rulkep have undoubtedly dulled during his decades in exile, I learned recently of the birth of his son, Roald. Should you encounter Senzer on your trip to Bloodcove, kindly deliver the enclosed letter. It offers a full scholarship for his boy at our prestigious school.
On graver business, you must also be wary of an Osirian man bearing distinctive scarab tattoos on his face. Amukhet began as a vile smuggler of our national history, but recently he graduated to outright murder of customs inspectors. The Ruby Prince has already signed Amukhet’s death warrant. Should you encounter the man, your sacred duty demands you take his life, ideally without creating an international incident.
For the Ancestors,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
As you listen to the details of your current mission for the Society, your thoughts stray to the favor asked of you by representatives of your faction. The message was left for you in the usual way, but was marked with the seal of Osirion. You have heard that the Grand Lodge occasionally does them favors and assume this is one of those times. You can still see the letter in your mind...
Trusted Servant,
You travel with another Pathfinder by the name of Yanos who is in need of your assistance for a personal matter.
Some years ago, the Sothan Alchemical Academy lost one of its more promising alumni to Bloodcove. While the skills of Senzer Rulkep have undoubtedly dulled during his decades in exile, I learned recently of the birth of his son, Roald. Should you encounter Senzer on your trip to Bloodcove, kindly deliver the enclosed letter. It offers a full scholarship for his boy at our prestigious school.
On graver business, you must also be wary of an Osirian man bearing distinctive scarab tattoos on his face. Amukhet began as a vile smuggler of our national history, but recently he graduated to outright murder of customs inspectors. The Ruby Prince has already signed Amukhet’s death warrant. Should you encounter the man, your sacred duty demands you take his life, ideally without creating an international incident.
For the Ancestors,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
As you listen to the details of your current mission for the Society, your thoughts stray to the favor asked of you by representatives of your faction. The message was left for you in the usual way, but was marked with the seal of Cheliax. You have heard that the Shadow Lodge occasionally does them favors, and sometimes intercepts their messages, and you assume this is one of those times. Apparently written in the hand of the Paracountess before she went missing, you can still see the letter in your mind, and almost smell the cloying scent that clung to it...
Delicious Plaything,
It seems even refined Chelish blood exhibits no immunity to youthful rebellion. A boy of sixteen years, Trato of Westcrown snubbed his high breeding and fled his familial responsibilities. He is identifiable both by his obviously good breeding and his hair: raven black with a shock of red in the front.
Find Trato. My divinations place him in the Mwangi Expanse, but somewhere thick with the stink of seawater, so he likely serves aboard some peasant ship. If you can convince him to return as well, all the better, but if you fail, I will simply dispatch agents more specialized in retrieving petulant brats.
Expectant and Impatient,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen
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The human lady with hair so white it nearly appears silver, scans and proceeds to address the group in her normal seductive whisper.
"Oh my, I am so very happy to be travelling with some of my favorite companions, I am very... pleased to see you Haris the Acrobat, Barlor the farmer, and you Mr. László, I believe you sir, still owe me a rather special gold piece.
Scantilly clad even by Shoanti standards, It's hard not to be distracted by her rather well placed tattoos, most especially the black scorpion featured on her chest. She then diverts her gaze to the halfling lady, and the average looking human.
"I do not believe I have had the... pleasure of meeting either of you two. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Peri Tilki the moon child of the Lyrune-Quah Shoanti, and Enchantress Supreme."
As she stops talking, she winks for no disceranable reason, and waits for replies.
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"Aey! Wait for me!!" Harris shouts out to his new companions.
A lean long-limbed human dashes skillfully through the crowd. The motion of his body exhibits a natural athletic inclination; controlled feet placement in anticipation of the chaotic crowd ahead; arms and fingers reached out to balance on passersby but never needing them. His face is jovial, drawn white teeth upon a face used to smiling.
Harris saunters to a stop and exhales excitingly, “Phew! Thought I’d missed you lads! I tell you, that old woman could not pull that cart any faster even with an extra coin. I could have run faster, and I did!” He pauses to pull out a length of lanyard and bridles it in between his lips, then presses back his loose dirty curly blond mop to tie off. “I'm Harris Hawkson. The Venture Captain gave me the orders and said you were head off with Master Zey. Let's start the show!”
“Ugg. I hate the countryside.” He straps on a few armor pieces of hard cured leather as he greets the squad-mates. "Peri, Barlor, Lazslo, 'Pathfinders'?"
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The halfing looks around at the others, not sure if the half-naked sorceress was serious or not. It seemed she was. "Greetings, I am Shel...well, just call me Shel. Much simpler that way. Pleased to meet you all. I'm a bit of a jack of all trades, and I'm pretty good at unlocking things that I don't think should stay locked."
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The Varisian rogue, a man of medium height and slender build with the dark coloration typical of his origin, smiles warmly at Peri first. "Yes. Yes, I do. It is very good to see you again. Ah, and Haris and Barlor, too, of course. Hello, Ing. Perhaps there will be pastries again? And no stuffy diplomat to complain, yes?
"I am pleased to meet you, Shel. I am László Kovács. I will answer to Laz if I must. And I, too, am good with many things, including locks."
Aram Zey clears his throat. "If you ladies have no further use my valuable talents, then I will be on my way."
He assumes a look of deep concentration that the initiated would recognize as the first step in spellcasting. A look that others often mistake for constipation.
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"I am concerned, yes, that looking for House Cartahegn as the first thing we do may rouse suspicions. Since Aspis is here very strongly indeed we must tread carefully to avoid their attention. I can play the part of a merchant well enough to be convincing. That gives us an excuse to speak with this caravan driver and talk to many people before settling on Cartahegn. Does this sound like a useful plan?"
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"Ah, I have considered that. For I am here representing another, trying to establish trade. In this place, lacking a buyer for goods one is carrying is not a good thing, for you must pay for guards or risk losing what you carry. The buyers know this, and will let you bleed for a time before offering a pittance for your wares. Or another will take it from you by force, and the buyers will deal with them.
"Of course...have we any Andorans with us?...there is always the possibility of passing one or more of you off as slaves, but that would leave those so acting unarmed in a very dangerous place."
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The Varisian claps Barlor on the shoulder with a smile. "Cheer up, my friend. Even if we succeed, we will no doubt have to escort the supplies ourselves, facing down the unknown horrors of the Mwangi jungles. You and Ing will be in your element there, while Haris, Shel, and I struggle miserably through the mud, wishing with all our hearts that we could be in a fine city."
With an arcane phrase, followed by another flash of light, Aram Zey teleports away, leaving the group to its own devices.
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"Why, oh why do they always thin people shall be amazed when they do that little feat", he rolls his eyes as the master of Spells departs using the roadways of magic.
"I do not believe I have had the... pleasure of meeting either of you two. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Peri Tilki the moon child of the Lyrune-Quah Shoanti, and Enchantress Supreme."
Returning the smile, Yanos plunges the spear into the ground that it will be held up, and takes her hand for a kiss, "Supremely enchanting, indeed, lady. I am Yanos, (prononced Yan-osh) and I am most pleased to meet you." Standing tall, he offers a small bow, "All of you.", like Peri, he wears little, prefering to be able to shift and manuver with ease. "While we are here to aid our blood-brothers and sisters of the Society, I must also try to find a youth named Senzer Roland, as well as another man, an Osirian called Amukhet. This Amukhet is a murderer in need of justice."
"Don't much care for all this sneakin' an such. Figure we ought ta just find our business and have it done."
"I must say I agree with Mr. Barlor. Sneaking seems, too easy. Too dull. Hopefully things shall be more interesting . . .", mimicking Lady Shel's mischievious grin and a understanding wink.
. . . I'm a bit of a jack of all trades, and I'm pretty good at unlocking things that I don't think should stay locked."
"What sorts of things would that be, luv? And what's not to trust." smiling back.
"I have read some of the Chronicles depicting the area, and they do indeed warn of a variaty of odd dangers. Stories of ghost-fogs that blunt and relieve the mind, massive, and intellegent gorilla's, women that walk as serpents, and hidden cities, their entirety made from true silver, with traps and curses to guard them."
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László chuckles at the priest's litany of wonders. "Ah, János, do you know what tales they tell here of Varisia?" He pronounces Yanos' name with an odd accent, but his smile is warm.
"Rest assured that I will make your search my own. As it happens, I, too, have been asked to find a wanderer, a wayward Wiscrani youth named Trato."
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"And I will be happy to help you with your, my brother. I seem to recall that the natives where none-to aware of much of the outside world, though I believe there was tension with Cheliax, I know, surprizing right" he says sarcastically. "I may be wrong, but my intuition says that they will have a rudimentry kinship with the Varisiani more than with us."
Bloodcove is no place for Pathfinders. The constant threat of robbery, dismemberment, and even death shadows Pathfinders wherever they go, but the city features something far worse—the Aspis Consortium. The Consortium controls Bloodcove’s political, economic, and domestic affairs; it decides what ships dock, how goods are priced, and whether anyone investigates crimes. Bloodcove’s sheltered location, far from the armies of the Inner Sea and guarded by the Eye of Abendego, emboldens the Consortium to the point where they think nothing of kidnapping rivals from the streets of Bloodcove in broad daylight. Only the quietest or cleverest Pathfinders survive so deep in enemy territory.
As a trade port, Bloodcove grants merchants more freedom and access than any other profession. However, disguising yourselves as merchants or other trade professionals requires more preparation than other covers. Merchants should not appear heavily armed (it frightens clients), and so you must discard or conceal any weapons you are carrying, as well as any obviously magical gear.
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Physical Description: A kitsune has two forms—a single human form and its true form, that of a humanoid fox. In their human forms, kitsune tend toward quickness and lithe beauty. In all forms they possess golden, amber, or brilliant blue eyes. In their true forms, they are covered with a downy coat of auburn fur, although more exotic coloration is possible.
A perception of 25 is required to see through Peri's human form
Take 10 + 10 racial + 5 charisma.
If anyone has a +15 perception at this tier then I deserve to be found out
Shel and Yanos probably do not even know I am not a human.