The warm light of the sun is just dawning over Absalom as you pass the massive outer walls of the Grand Lodge and approach the famous Statue of Durvin Gest. The Grand Lodge contains seven fortified structures, and Durvin's statue stands before the largest - an enormous five-towered building of white stone called Skyreach. There, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin directs the activities of experienced Pathfinders from the Society's Grand Hall.
Your path, however, takes you away from Skyreach to one of the lesser structures. There, in a small room, a meeting has been arranged with a lesser-known Venture-Captain by the name of Dennel Hamshanks.
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You all did not notice but a chair is dragged from a darken corner of the room by what looks to be like a 17 year old kid, your not sure if he was there before anyone entered or if he came through the door when no one was looking.
His half Elven ears shine in the light and his dark brown and green outfit throws off the light in some places. He places the chair at the table and in a small kid like voice proclaims his name, "Well i been called alot of things, but Sark sorta stuck."
He wears a rapier at his side and puts his shortbow and arrows at his feet in easily reach. He looks around the table and gives a goofy smile to each of you.
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Out of the horizon, comes a half-man. The sideways wind whips at his weathered tabard, sending dust back to the vastness from whence he came. Morning heat rises from the ground; his silhouette wavers like a phantom.
What people made of him as he approached and entered the building, he didn't seem to care. There he was and in he walked. He was dark; not dark-skinned; this was different, it was as if he was always walking in a shadow. Every step he took towards the light, just when you thought his face would be revealed, it wasn't. It was as if the lights dimmed, just for him.
::a gratuitous tumbleweed rolls by::
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Kicking aside several rolling tumbleweeds, Pascal coughs in the dust as she springs off her chair to greet the rest of the team.
Well pleased as punch to meet you all. Anyone have any idea what we're doing or where we're going? I hope it's somewhere warm, there's nothing like marching through mud to really suck the light out of a mission.
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Sark smile's sweaty at the halfling,nodding to the Venture-Captain saying, "Am sure when he is good and ready he will tell us, until then how did you get her? I was not nearby and had to ride 3 days to get her on time, wish they would take into account where we are when assigning us missions!" He turns to the Cheliax and says "Well if you been told to follow us, then that what you should do eh?"
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The Stranger walks over to the bartender, at least he thought it was the bartender, and sets down his gear. ::thunk:: -a bear trap hits the floor- He leans over and speaks with a gravelly tone, "I'm looking for a man who calls himself 'Pinché'. Do you know where I can find him?" When the room steward replys 'no', the Stranger turns to the others. "How about you, have you heard of such a man?"
Hamshanks ignores all pretense of pleasantries as he pounds into the room. “Never time to do it right, is there? Gorum see us through this, then.” He levels his glare at the entire room. “Ever been to Qadira? Religion is almost a fad down there, with new cults springing up like weeds and getting crushed just as quickly. It has been that way for centuries.
“But some make a mark—on Qadira or in the Chronicles. Three centuries ago, the archdevil Moloch, preaching surrender to the desert heat, suddenly became the rage. Qadirans walked into the desert just to die just as if the heat was their paradise. The most devout sought out the hidden Citadel of Flame, where a fearsome bull-headed idol of Moloch judged them and sent the worthy to Malebolge, the sixth layer of Hell. No surprise that Sarenrae’s priests launched a mighty crusade to demolish the citadel. After two weeks, a great sandstorm swallowed the expedition—and, it seemed, the citadel and its idol. Nothing more was heard from either.
“Until ten days ago, that is. Sandstorms regularly scour the Qadiran highlands, and this time they emptied an entire valley of dunes. Poking out of that valley, visible only to those soaring above—such as a flying Pathfinder wizard—was the lofty spire of a fortress: the Citadel of Flame, presumably.
“Hopefully we are the first to learn about its reappearance and we need to act fast. The Decemvirate doesn’t expect any trouble, so they’re sending you. But I do expect trouble—who knows what’s infesting that citadel? Get in there fast and find that idol—it could be the key to the entire cult. It’s likely statue-sized, maybe as big as me, and should have a bull’s head on it. And for Gorum’s sake be careful.”
Hamshanks frowns at Leonides. "I always get the recruits..." he sighs. "You are all lucky that Aram Zey isn't assigning this mission. Yes, bring the idol back. And as for preparations for a desert? I would suggest dressing appropriately and bringing plenty of water."
"That depends on variables beyond my control." Hamshanks responds to Pascal. "Ship speeds, weather. Whether or not you survive."
He gives that a moment to sink in before leaning back with a grim smile. "I would guess you won't see Absalom again for at least 6 weeks."
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Sark doesnt react when the stranger comes up close to snuff him, but those that observe his empty hands see them out-stretched like something would fall into them from his long sleeved tunic. After the stranger retreats, Sark looses interest in him.
He puts his foot on the table and lend's back on the chair, balancing it on the back 2 legs then only one leg. As Hamshanks enters and speaks to speak suddenly, he almost falls completely backwards, but nimbly catches himself and puts the chair down with a loud bang.
His youthful faces brightens up as the mission is explain to you all. "Never been, great chance to add another location under my belt. Hmmm a man size status you say? Carrying it out of some castle back here would take some doing, i assume we can hire a cart and camels from some close by city to the location? What's the closest city and how much of the cult still exists in the area? If they found out we trying to take their status, things could go badly fast. Anyone have any ideas if we can somehow make a copy of the status on site so we can try a bait and switch move if we get caught with said relic?
"Cart, camel, floating disk. Bring it back here by whatever means you deem appropriate. Now if there is nothing more, your ship sets sail on the evening tide."
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Sark frowns at the lack of info going into this mission, he likes to be more informed when entering into a hostile area. He studies the man giving them their info to see if can sense what he thinks of this mission or the people they are sending it on(Sense motive check how do i roll dice on here?). He racks his brain for any info he know of either the cult or area we are travelling to(Knowledge local check?). He will buy hot weather suit and 3 more waterskins with the 17 gp he has left to his name.
He looks around to those gathered and asks "Can anyone create water?"
Sark gets the impression that Hamshanks thinks this is a routine mission, and that he would prefer to be working with more experienced Pathfinders.
The sea voyage is swift and your ship sails into the port of Sedeq a little over a week after departing Absalom. Located south of the Zho Mountains, Sedeq is known for its slave market, but offers much more. It is the eastern hub of the lucrative North Tack trading route, and countless goods make their way from the eastern empire of Kelesh through Sedeq to the Inner Sea. The Qalli Spice Market alone is so large as to contain several smaller markets within it.
According to Hamshanks the location of the Citadel is perhaps another week's journey into the desert from Sedeq.
Local hirelings will accompany the group to the Citadel, but will not go close to it.
Leaving Sedeq behind, your small group travels into the endless Qadiran dunes. It's blazing hot under the sun and near freezing beneath the stars at night. The camel, while bad-tempered and stubborn at times, is handled well by Ugly, and if the statue turns out to be life size, then it will have been a good investment.
A few days later you come to an area where the sun beats down on a maze of red slickstone. There, a path descends through a maze of cliffs, opening into a slot canyon of smooth red stone surrounded by towering columns called hoodoos. At the far side, two hoodoos carved into enormous bull-headed men leer down on the canyon, while those nearby look like stylized flames. To either side, the canyon walls rise steeply in a series of rough ledges to the clifftops above. Brass doors on a massive wall of baked gray mud can be seen through an arch at the far side of the canyon.