Each of you in turn receives an invitation to a party being held this evening at the Lantern Lodge, the beautiful and exotic estate home of the Tian venture-captain, Amara Li. Tonight is a traditional celebration, the Snapdragon Festival, which will feature Fireworks and the finest plum wines the east has to offer. Your invitation instructs you to dress your best, and to seek out the venture-captain upon your arrival. Such personal invitations to the Festival are rare, and you are the envy of others at the Grand Lodge for having received one.
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Zedril puts on his "Sunday best" for the party. He understands the importance of appearance and diplomacy for the greater good of relationships. He does not feel comfortable in this role but knows it is a necessary evil.
I hope this evening ends with a quest, I'm not much for fireworks and girly drinks.
Zedril arrives at the party and immediately asks to be shown to Amara Li.
I am Zedril, I would like to see Amara Li.
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Ha! Dress my best? Those Tians wouldn't know good dress if it stepped on their sandal-wearing toes! Plum wine, however... Quintus grabs his most garishly-colored Taldan doublet and overtunic, hoping to stand out above the vivid kimono sure to be found at a Tian festival.
Arriving somewhat late, the bard barely glances at anyone as he flashes his invitation. Only after grabbing a glass of plum wine does he begin to casually stroll through the crowd looking for the Venture Captain.
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Kehl stared at the invitation for a long time upon first receiving it. He looked at his shoddy clothes and worn, dirty cloak.
Time for an upgrade?
The night arrives and Kehl, in a new shirt -- but the same worn pants and dirty boots, arrives. Feeling revealed without the cloak he usually dons, Kehl attempts to find some comfort in the wine being served.
When he catches a glimpse of Quintus, he approaches him, glad for a familiar face.
"You were born for this sort of thing, Quintus... while I feel as out of place as you would in a bar brawl." Kehl drinks deeply of his wine. "Good drink though. Any sign of the captain?"
The aroma of blooming orchids and flowing wine mixes with the acrid tang of recently exploded fireworks. The sound of strangely discordant music comes from a duo of Tian women playing an unusual stringed instrument and a reed flute. The crowd mingles calmly, most guests clearly hoping to be seen more than actually paying attention to those with whom they converse, though the plum wine seems to have affected some who now move about the lodge’s grounds waving whizzing wands of fire and shooting sparkling fireworks into the sky above the koi pond.
A couple of beautiful, if somewhat shy, Tian girls take an interest in Quintus and his tunic. Kehl’s approach sends them giggling behind their ornate fans at his obviously out of place attire. After making Kehl feel sufficiently awkward, they wonder off is search of new entertainment.
A waiter, somewhat startled by Zedril’s lack of social tact, jumps to assist him, speaking in a thick Tian accent. Err, yes, sir, I will in tell her of your arrival. And disappears toward the estate house.
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Irijaya rushes into the palace a bit late. She is dressed well, but clearly a bit rumpled, and ink-stains mar her sleeves. She identifies Quintus and Kehl from their Society badges and rushes over.
Ah, you must be my compatriots for this mission. Greetings, I am Irijaya Suchitra, scholar of ancient mysteries. I am deeply sorry for my tardy arrival and general appearance. I intended to arrive early, but the directions I received were sadly lacking. And then, on the way here, was a beautiful library dedicated to the histories of ancient Tian Xia. A library! Well, of course, I couldn't pass up the opportunity.
Her mouth twists.
And that was yesterday.
A short time later, all of you are invited into Amara Li’s private study, where they find her seated on a reed mat before a low table set with an exquisite porcelain tea set. She motions for you to sit with her around the table, and as the door closes she begins talking in a low, hushed voice without even the hint of a Tian accent:
Well met, Pathfinders, and welcome to the Lantern Lodge. I hope you find the Snapdragon Festival and my hospitality worthy of your time. I have not brought you here for mere pleasantries, however, and wish to ask you to partake a dangerous mission on my behalf.
Long ago, one of my most esteemed ancestors, who was rich in power but poor in sense, gave a gift to a foreign prince, a gift that prince did not deserve and my foolish ancestor had no right to give - a ceremonial jade katana. At the time the gift was sent, its recipient was invading this island. He laid siege to Absalom from his fortress in the foothills of the Kortos Mounts. Like those who came before him, the warlord failed to take Absalom and perished in the attempt. On the very day of his defeat, his castle crumbled to dust in a violent earthquake and has been lost to the centuries ever since. My family’s heirloom was lost with it.
A recent report by a group of Pathfinders gives me hope that they have finally found the ruin, and I might finally recover my family’s treasure. I’m looking for an intrepid group to retrieve it for me, and I’m hoping that is you. The fame and wealth you will doubtlessly recover will bring you much honor within the Society, and if you deliver the katana to me, you will have my favor as you begin your careers as full agents of the Pathfinder Society.
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Irijaya listens carefully to Lady Amara's instructions. She removes a piece of parchment - one of her most valued possessions - from her backpack and makes a few notes in a tiny, precise hand at the top with a quill pen that, it becomes apparent, she was already holding in one hand.
As a historian, I am interested in anything else you would be willing to share about this jade katana, Lady Amara. Does it have any legendary properties we should be aware of? I am also curious about the condition of the ruins reported to you by the Pathfinders. Are we to expect some sort of resistance in this mission, or do the ruins appear vacant?
Having asked her questions, Irijaya waits patiently for the answers, pen and parchment ready.
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Quintus listens to Amari Li with a faint smile, eager to begin actual adventures to mysterious locations instead of running errands all day.
"A story fitting for the stage, if I may say so myself. No doubt, restoring this treasure would bring honor to your family; and earning the favor of a beautiful woman, which I say with all respect due to someone of your rank and position of Venture Captain, is only added incentive to aid in this effort."
Judging by the extravagant festival, proving himself to the Venture Captain would surely go far in boosting his reputation.
No, the Katana is not magical, merely a fine piece of craftsmanship and a family heirloom.
The castle was assumed to have been completely destroyed. It’s possible that a lower level of the keep survived intact all this time, buried until recently.
Amara provides directions to the reported location.
The Cairnlands are never really a safe place, but I have not received any reports of a specific threat to you.
Amara flashes Quintus a coy half-smile. Indeed, my family and I are eager to hear of your success. You are exploring the ruins as Pathfinders, but I am asking you to find the Jade Katana as a personal favor. I also ask that you keep that part of your mission just between us.
Please stay and enjoy the Festival. There are several people of note here tonight; some that it would be good to introduce yourselves to as up and coming Pathfinders.
Amara becomes slightly indignant at Zedril’s comment. Righting the wrong of my ancestor’s foolish gift is not enough for you?! You have no interest in exploring ruins untouched for centuries? You would do well to learn your place, Pathfinder. In the mean time, I have guests to attend to. Good day.
Amara summons a servant and you all are escorted back to the Festival.
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Kehl tries hard not to snicker a the dressing-down the elf received.
"I see no reason to not enjoy such finery before we leave tomorrow," Kehl states. "Quintus, you're charming enough for the both of us. Let's say we hunt down those two ladies again, and you can sweet-talk one of them for me." Kehl grins and grabs two glasses of wine from the nearest servant, handing one to the bard.
He nods to the two new faces.
"Kehl, by the way."
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Dasiji frets over what to wear. This isn't like him. He grew up not wearing much at all, as an Ijo fishing on a boat in Desperation Bay. As an adult, the goal-driven Bonuwat joined the Sargavan Guard, and so learned to wear Chelish clothes -- but mostly uniforms to wear while subduing unruly drunks or patrolling the outlying jungle for dangerous wildlife. When he traveled to Absalom to join the Pathfinder Society, Dasiji's clothes were... practical.
But now he's going to the Lantern Lodge. After learning how to fit in (more or less) among Avistanis, now he has to learn how to deal with Tians too? After much dithering, he finally gives up and goes to a gentleman's clothing store. They discuss and bargain for some time, until the storekeeper creates a finer version of what Dasiji is used to wearing, using jungle background colors in impractical materials. He ends up with hunter green breeches and a matching jacket over a russet shirt with a stand-up collar, all in fine linens; soft leather boots, gloves, and a belt, all russet like the shirt; and a rust cloak of fine wool in case of chill.
Finally, the well-dressed Mwangi wanders in to the celebration, not really making note of the time. It's barely dusk, and so he counts himself as being on time for an evening party; if they meant a certain hour, they should have specified. He espies a couple of familiar faces. "Quintus! Kehl! How goes it?"
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It takes several seconds to recognize the somewhat-finely dressed man, but Quintus lets out an amused chuckle when he sees Dasiji. "Haha... a more well-dressed Mwangi the world has never seen! Going for the plant look, are we?" Quintus grins as he teases his fellow Pathfinder.
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After the Venture Captain leaves, Quintus smiles and raises an eyebrow at Kehl's request. "I don't know if even my sweet-talking would be enough to find a pretty girl for you. I know... I know. I can set aside my deep humility an give it a try, at least, but I won't promise anything. But first..."
Quintus looks over his two new companions, his gaze lingering on the beautiful Vudrani woman before he gives each a slight bow. "It seems as if we'll be undertaking this expedition together. Quintus Valorian, pleased to make your acquaintance."
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It takes several seconds to recognize the somewhat-finely dressed man, but Quintus lets out an amused chuckle when he sees Dasiji. "Haha... a more well-dressed Mwangi the world has never seen! Going for the plant look, are we?" Quintus grins as he teases his fellow Pathfinder.
Dasiji shrugs, pursing his mouth in a self-deprecating grin. "It's what I'm used to. If only I were in a jungle, then I might fit in; but I doubt that anyone will notice me anyway, standing next to you and... that." He gestures at Quintus's vivid attire and winks.
Quintus looks over his two new companions, his gaze lingering on the beautiful Vudrani woman before he gives each a slight bow. "It seems as if we'll be undertaking this expedition together. Quintus Valorian, pleased to make your acquaintance."
The experienced guard can handle deadly combat with cool ease, but complex social situations... not so much. He startles, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, what? There's an expedition? What did I miss?" He collects himself and sketches a hasty bow at the two strangers talking with his friends. "Dasiji Lekaya, from Sargava."
He turns back to Quintus and Kehl, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect anything so early. At least a summary? If I'm going to be invited too, then I'd rather not make our hostess repeat herself."
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Kehl grins at Quintus. "Talented as you are, I know you do not keep spare miracles about your person. All the same..." he shrugs.
Kehl nods a greeting to the Mwangi, surprisingly glad to see Dasiji among the group now.
"Her family heirloom is in a ruin. We're going to return it to her, and handle some other Pathfinder business. This time, hopefully without running afoul of berserker halflings and madwomen."
"Zedril, we learned the hard way that the best way to deal with a venture captain is to say 'Yes, Thanks, We'll have that done right away. The benefits to being in their good graces far outweigh having them... resentful." Kehl shudders, remembering threats about the Crown of the World....
Rather talkative today... Must be the wine.
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"Aye, she said a past relation of hers had gifted it to a foreigner. Who brought it here while attempting to invade this island. It's in the Cairnlands, from what she said, in the remains of the invader's castle."
Armen snags himself another glass of wine and bolts it down.
"Just another day in the employ of the Pathfinders. I could get used to this finery. Certainly a step up from running errands for churches."
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A wide smile slowly dawns on Dasiji's face, as he takes in the colorful vista and accepts a glass of wine from a passing servant. "Thank you." He takes a sip. "Yes, that children's home was kind of depressing. And then trying to stay on the right side of the law while surprising would-be ambushers... It will be nice to do something more straightforward."
Soon after you are reunited with Dasiji, a man approaches, decked out in the military fineries of an Eagle Knight’s ceremonial uniform - a bright blue overcoat with polished gold buttons, gold eagle epaulets, and a fine, black felt tricorn hat. This handsome man is a charmer who clearly thinks very highly of himself. He speaks loudly and confidently to you, as if he wants the entire festival to “overhear” his conversation.
Greetings, Pathfinders! Rumor has it you’re headed out into the Cairnlands on official Society business. Best of luck outside the city walls, though you look like sturdy enough adventurers. Perhaps not Eagle Knight material, but qualified for the work of a Pathfinder none the less.
I feel the need to issue you a word of warning, friends - beware the walking dead. The crumbling ruins surrounding the city are rife with them, and you’re likely to run into more than your fair share over the course of your career. The undead are more than just a physical peril, however. Undeath is the worst kind of slavery. And it should be eradicated like all servitude, whether to aristocracy or to mental control. Being enslaved to the flesh beyond when Pharasma calls one’s soul to the Boneyard is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my greatest enemy. So while you plumb the depths of Asad’s Keep, remember your solemn duty to your fellow man - both living and dead. Any undead you encounter along the way should be freed of their earthly shell. You will be doing them a great favor.
If you prove your dedication to freedom, the resources of Andoran will be at your disposal in your future endeavors.
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Quintus gives the man an amused smirk, "Ah, yes... one doesn't need the quaint Andoran notion of freedom for all undeserving people to understand the dangers of the undead. If we come across any monsters of the type, we'll be dealing with them as a favor to us. Still, we appreciate the warning. This rumor seems to have spread fairly quickly."
The Andoran’s chest seems to puff out even farther at Zedril’s comment.
Excellent words, fair Elf. The missions of fellow Pathfinders are not exactly secrets among the Venture-Captains. I would hate to see such promising young Pathfinders succumb to the dangers of the Cairnlands because they are ill prepared for what they may face.
Since we are talking about freedom anyway, allow me to enlighten you on the benefits of Democracy and everything the Andoran quest for freedom has to offer…
And he begins to expound on those subjects at length, whether you are actually listening to him or not.
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Irijaya has been quietly following behind her companions, taking further notes on her sheet of parchment as Venture Captain Amara Li instructs them on the upcoming mission. She appears quietly amused at Quintus and Kehl's banter, and intrigued by the far-from-home Mwangi, but says little. At the mention of the undead, her ears perk up slightly.
Undead, you say? Foul creatures. They have failed in the struggle for perfection and purity that the Master of Masters calls each of us to endure. I can assure you that they will not outlast an encounter with me.
As the Eagle Knight begins to expound on his life philosophy, Irijaya stays silent for a bit. She's not terribly philosophically minded, preferring fact and history to relatively esoteric notions like "freedom." Eventually, though, as it becomes clear that the man will not be silent, she turns to Dasiji.
Irijaya Suchitra, scholar of ancient mysteries. It's a pleasure to meet you, and to get to some adventuring that doesn't involve rats and collapsing cargo holds. Do I detect an Ijo fisher's accent in your voice? It is always so interesting to meet someone else from... well, from not around here.
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Dasiji's mind begins to wander as the Andoran drones on, until he is rescued by the exotic Irijaya, who resembles neither the Avistanis nor the Tians in evidence at the party.
"Likewise a pleasure. Yes, I am of the Ijo. We have a bad sahuagin problem, and so I joined the Pathfinders to learn whatever I can, in the hope of finding a solution. Where are you from, and why do you study ancient mysteries? Just for fun, or with a purpose?"
The man who you have gathered to be Major Colson Maldris, the Andoran Venture Captain, pauses in his exposition long enough for a member of the serving staff, decked out in a finely crafted silken robe, to interrupt him by whispering something in his ear. He quickly excuses himself from your company and heads toward the door, saying he has urgent Eagle Knight business to attend to and wishes you good fortune on your quest.
The Festival stretches well into the night. As the party is winding down and you are preparing to leave, a well-dressed Keleshite man approaches you and asks for a quick word. The Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam is soft-spoken and subtle, quite the contrast to Major Maldris’s ostentatious pomposity. He draws you aside, away from any crowds or activity, and addresses you in a slow, level voice with a strong Kelish accent.
Like a fast-spoken djinn, I’ll get to the quick. I know where you are going. House Damaq of Qadira claim the ruin, but we are willing to allow you access for the price of a small deed easily accomplished during your adventure. You will be well compensated, I assure you, for profits are most rewarding when shared. I assume treasure-seekers like yourselves are interested in such a proposition?
Without waiting for an answer, he continues, his eyes intent and his posture rigid. The ruin is Qadiran, which is why we claim it, and we are willing to defend it, but there are really only certain things left in Asad’s Keep we are interested in: trade agreements, of which we believe there to be many within the ruins. All we ask that you do is to turn over all trade agreements you find to us as soon as you return to Absalom, as we will be able to hold the signers accountable to them even centuries after their signing.
The satrap of Qadira - nay, the entire Padishah Empire of Kelesh - has much to offer the Pathfinder Society, and I personally have no qualms about sharing those resources with you, specifically. Shall we shake on this agreement?
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Dasiji shrugs, palms up, with a lop-sided smile. "I have nothing against Qadira and I believe in honor. At the same time, I have a quibble with your offer: I don't think that I need your permission to access the ruins of what has been described to me as an invader's castle. I can't imagine any court in Absalom honoring your claim; and if you meant that you would defend it by mere force, then that is no way to make friends."
"Now if we set aside any question of who can grant or deny access to the ruin, and also any blind commitment to do things with unknown consequences, then I'm sure that I and the Pathfinder Society will be happy to accept a fair share of the value of any recovered trade agreements that we turn over to you. Shall we shake on this agreement?"
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Quintus barely manages to hide his disdain and clenches his jaw as the Trade Prince speaks with the group. Taldor and Qadira have a strained relationship, to say the least, with a current uneasy truce following a half-century of war. Many historical plays have been written about the conflict, and despite Quintus's fascination with Keleshite works of art, he still holds a prejudice against those from Qadira.
Thankfully, Dasiji does the talking, allowing Quintus to fume silently.
The Trade Prince mulls over Dasiji’s words, eyes shifting from him to the other members of the group and back; then proceeds, attempting to regain at least some control over the conversation.
A shrewd Ijo negotiator. Qadira has room for a man like you in our organization. Think on it.
Very well. I will agree to that and wait for your return. Aquir shakes Dasiji’s hand solemnly, and any others that are offered. Thank you, and blessings on your journey.
The Trade Prince leaves discretely.
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Dasiji nods gravely at Kehl's compliment. "Thank you. I don't get as many chances to haggle as I'd like. If only more people were open to talking things over like the Qadiran, then I could use my hammer less." The Mwangi smiles mischievously at his clever friend. "And besides, anyone can make an argument with a hammer. It takes real skill to make one with bedsheets."
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Irijaya watches, slightly open-mouthed, as Dasiji astutely handles the Qadiran Venture Captain. After shaking the Keleshite's hand and bidding him good even, she turns back to Dasiji.
You certainly do have a way with words, my friend. You would do well in the Grand Chronicler's Circle of Niswan. I sense that we have much in common.
She turns to the group as a whole.
Feuding factions, a ruined keep, a mysterious artifact, undead, and trade agreements? I believe the Tian Xia would say that this promises to be a most interesting adventure. Unfortunately, among the Tian, "may you live in interesting times" is, in fact, a curse.
We all seem capable enough, however. I'm almost looking forward to this.
She waits until the others have finished mingling, then follows them back to the Pathfinder Society sleeping quarters. She seems to continue to take an interest in Dasiji, sticking closer to him throughout the remainder of the party than the others.
I think I might actually fit in with this unusual group. Master Irori certainly has a plan for me. Who would've thought it would involve raiding ruins and battling the undead?
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"Just be careful with these Qadirans. Though it seems as if you reached an agreement - quite skillfully, I might add - no doubt he's scheming to twist your words to his advantage."
Quintus then grins at the mention of the encounter at the Paracountess' estate. "At least with the Chelish you know where you stand. Now, if you'd all excuse me, I have some matters to attend to. I look forward to our adventuring together tomorrow." Now... where did those girls get off to...
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I shall attend to my temple and inform them of my quest and meet you all in the morning, if you need me, you know where to find me.
Zedril travels to the temple of Iomedae to meet with his superiors and inform them of this quest and ask for guidance to keep his beliefs true and his vengeance at bay.
Your journey to Asad’s Keep is arduous; the terrain is rocky and marred with the scars of millennia of wars, making it thirsty work for you to get to their destination, but fortunately you encounter no resistance. The directions Amara gave you lead to a small gully; wind-blown pillars of sandstone and other rubble dot the landscape.
At the end of the gully, about fifteen feet above the ground on a cliff face, is an ancient, ironbound door. Its wood is dried and cracked. Directly in front of the door is a steep slope of rubble and dust-crusted debris that, as luck would have it, provides a path - albeit a rough and difficult one - right up to the door.
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Before meeting the group the next morning, Quintus ventures into the city's theater district to find a shop specializing in stage fighting equipment. With the gold rewarded from his first foray into Pathfinder work, he finds a whip of exceptional quality.
Afterwards, he uses his Taldan connections to procure a wand of healing magic. Then, finally ready, he heads to meet his companions.
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Ah, the entrance. Well, better safe than sorry, I suppose.
Irijaya mutters the following in Celestial and gestures, tracing a line from her eyes to the door, then making some sort of runic mark in the air:
Anvacel qufeln, neljelah zuonlelhb yu sz liwry. Telyelvy Sawiv!
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Dasiji would enjoy his shopping more if only he could haggle, but no. The prices are all very firm, but he's happy with his purchases: a breastplate (to replace his studded leather), a greatsword (to replace his trident), a passel of darts (to replace his javelin), a miner's lantern (to replace his hooded lantern), a spiked gauntlet (so that he's never unarmed), and a whole bunch of extra supplies for exploring strange places (like warehouses and boudoirs).
You just never know when you might encounter vermin, or undead, or a pit, or an invisible foe, or... let's just say that he's very well-prepared now. After his group's recent successes, Dasiji even manages to use his modest influence with the Grand Lodge to procure a wand of cure light wounds.