After talking briefly with Venture-Captain Castamir, you journey East (and a bit South) to the lands of Qadira. Apparently, a rather accomplished Pathfinder agent has gone missing. The journey is straight forward, and it affords you an opportunity to get to know your fellow agents.
|
A tall, broad-shouldered half-orc stands by the bow rail as the ship plows through the waves toward Qadira. He casts a beady, red-tinged eye at the set of the sails from time to time, and occasionally offers an opinion on the matter in a voice as deep as the rumble of stones in a river. The sailors on board seem inclined to listen to his opinions, though it's hard to tell if it's because of his obvious knowledge of sailing - the result of years of seaborne journeys on assignment for the Society - or his fearsome appearance. His mottled green skin stands in stark contrast to the jagged blue tattoos that cover his face, neck and arms. He wears a finely-crafted steel breastplate over a worn, tattered jerkin of some indeterminate dark shade and the hilts of three heavy, curved swords can be seen over his left shoulder, their pommels molded in different shapes - a diamond, a circle and a crescent moon - to make them easy to distinguish in a hurry. A large raven, glossy black, sits on his shoulder, grooming its feathers fastidiously, seeming to pay no mind to what goes on around it.
He introduces himself brusquely to the exuberant tiefling he's noticed on board, saying, ”I'm Mohok. Glad to be sailing somewhere new, haven't spent much time in the desert. Got kicked out of Belkzen for being too human, then was too orc for them in Mendev. I just want to do some good in this cursed world, you'd think that wouldn't be so hard, eh?"
|
The woman overhearing the introduction is a half-orc as well, but she looks quite different from the mottled green Mohok. From a distance Pip might be mistaken for a normal Varisian woman, with her dark skintone and bright clothes. Only up-close would one see the unmistakable marks of Pip’s heritage: a powerful build, short-cropped hair, a broad flat nose and flat ears indicate her orcish ancestry. The other thing to stand out would be the gang tattoos, mostly covered up but coming all the way up to the left side of her neck and down to both her hands. These rough tattoos clash violently with the tattoo on her chest, which she wears proudly visible above her partially unbuttoned orange shirt: A perfectly symmetrical water lily in clean stylized lines, the sigil of Chadali. She's not dressed for trouble, but the luggage she brought on board was extensive; an array of different weapon, a well-filled backpack, several scroll tubes and two bandoliers of various flasks.
She looks up from gazing out over the waves. "Name's Pip. I'm sorry to hear that, Mohok. My roots were in Magnimar... The best thing I can say is that I wasn't kicked out. Worst it that it required growing up in a thieves guild. That didn't agree with me, and I was very happy that Chadali provided me with a way out. If you let it, I am sure life will provide you with a way to do good. Fate's funny that way, I've found."
/.
|
Our third team member is also a half-orc although a more radically different creature it would be difficult to find. Garam is short, a mere 5'4", hunched over and dressed like a scholar who has gotten lost on his way to the digsite.
His travelling gear is expensive, well made and well used. The pockets are stuffed full of books, scrolls, tubes, measuring and sifting gear and he has a small metal cage strapped to his belt. He has narrow, close set eyes with a pair of glasses perched on the end of his sharp nose and rune carved golden caps on his small tusks. His skin is grey and cracked in various places and he has a tendency to wipe his often runny nose on his sleeve. Despite the heat he remains bundled up with a heavy jacket, full length scarf and muffler.
He sits near the bow of the ship watching the waters flow by rapt with fascination. Occasionally he will fly out over the waters, keeping pace with the fast moving boat for the sheet enjoyment of flight.
Oh it is good to get out of the stuffy confines of the Grand Lodge at last. Sorrina Westyr has had me working on elemental transference theory looking for a way to breach that stupid Opal for months now. I thought I would lose my mind being stuck in those little research labs with a bunch of whiny, magic obsessed wizards. It's great to be out..., with that he starts coughing and spluttering...yes, out in the fresh air again!
|
A woodsman in buckskins comes walking into the room and pats the trail dust off of his clothes and gear before looking around. He looks almost half wild with his clothes and his manners. He carries a long boomstick that he cradles almost lovingly.
"My oh my... lots of half bloods here on this mission..." he says looking at those in attendance and when he removes his hood he also appears to be a half blood- elven type.
|
|
Mohok's ugly face spreads in an awkward grin as he realizes how many of his companions are of his own kind, and how varied they are. "Good to meet you, Pip and Garam. You too," he adds, nodding ponderously at Velidor.
He considers a long moment, then continues in his deep, rumbling voice, "It's true, Pip, I have found a few chances to do good, even help people. Though as often as not I end up doing it by using my Best Judgment." He raises a powerful hand to his left shoulder and taps the diamond-shaped pommel of one of his weapons, saying, "That's my good blade, Best Judgment. Sheila Heidmarch once told me to use my Best Judgment, and that's what I ended up doing. The shiny sword is Sound Judgment and the the cheap iron one is Poor Judgment - which I've been known to use as well."
|
|
cries a grinning tiefling of notoriously Little Judgment. The half-orc barely turns in time to see the woman erupt from a open hatchway and plow into him with the verve of a charging bull. "It is DELIGHTFUL that you are coming on this heroic journey AS WELL!!!"
She releases her bear-hug grip a bit. "Hee hee! Last time we were on a mission a DOOR TRIED TO EAT ME!!! Heeee, what fun! Maybe it will happen again! OOH! Do they have TALKING doors where we're going? I heard they have flying..."
Standing a hand taller than most of her kind, the ever-cheerful Boom rarely shuts her mouth unless told to. Her haphazard outfit -- though well worn and well armored -- is emblematic of her aggressively curious, if disorganized, intense personality. Baubles and vials and specimens adorn a bespoke traveler's outfit with pockets in the strangest places and an odd mismatch of colors. The heavy handle of a broad-blade is visible over her shoulder, which gleams with the telling sheen of adamantine. A bulging backpack with all manner of implements stuffed into it or tied to its exterior rests comfortably between two leathery wings tucked behind her back.
"...or even a chimera-gorgon-chimera! Or -- wait! That green man is flying! I CAN FLY TOO!!! Wheeeeeee!"
And she's overboard. Doing loop-de-loops around Garam with her enormous 7-foot wingspan. "HI!!!"
|
|
In spite of himself, Mohok's slightly fierce grin softens, and he lays a great, green hand on Boom's back as she hugs him, saying, "Good to see you too, Boom. Don't have too many friends this happy to see me. Sounds like we're not expecting to head to Numeria, so maybe I won't have to smash any robots this time around. Though they do seem to pop up everywhere."
As the tiefling flits exuberantly around the ship, Mohok's beady little eyes grow smaller still and his shoulders shake as he laughs, the sound as deep as distant thunder.
|
|
"Qadira, I heard! Hee hee! People wear funny hats there. See, I made one!" She produces a ruffled article that vaguely resembles a Qadiran headdress, in the way that a horseshoe made by a tanner armed with a description of a horse might look like a horseshoe.
"I've heard of Jormundun! Never been though!" Boom takes Garam's narrow escape from collision as a game, and immediately follows trying to get even closer to the mast while weaving in and out of the rigging and sails.
|
A comely woman with pale blue skin wanders in and greets everyone with a warm but distant smile - pleasant but professional. Her blue ombre hair is swept back neatly into a tight bun, and her grooming tidy and understated. It doesn't take long to note the telltale scars of a martial life under the concealers and makeup.
She wears stylish yet functional ambassadorial clothing of well-cut silks in the reds and blacks of Cheliax. Her cloak is secured by a brooch pin bearing the insignia of an infernal eye looking out of a swirling portal.
"Svetlana, or if you visited the fighting pits of Magnimar you may have seen me fight as Hellion" she offers by way of introduction.
"A missing Pathfinder Agent is never a good sign - it tends to suggest that there is almost certainly some foul plot in play. No matter, we shall root out any conspirators and retrieve our fellow" she states with positivity and enthusiasm.
She goes back to perusing a book with a well-worn leather cover, the gold leaf title on the front of the volume has mostly faded and flaked away but the words can still be made out - The Measure and the Chain'. She toys with a silvery wayfinder emblazoned with an emblem of a silver dragon absentmindedly as she reads.
|
|
Pip laughs at the antics of the flying tiefling and half-orc. "Indeed, it's quite curious that this mission has brought such a large group of us together." At the mention of Qadira, she wrinkles her nose. "Never been that far south. I'm not even sure I've packed appropriately..."
She watches for a while, then seeks some quiet away from Boom's big personality. She stops next to Svetlana, trying to take a peek at what the blue-haired tiefling is reading. "That's not light reading, is it?" she asks curiously.
|
|
"No, it is rather heavy going. This one is simply a travel friendly version of the key points - the full version of The Measure is a rather large codex that serves to guide us in the creation of an ordered society, The Chain is the philosophical text, and it talks about an idealised set of values for those of us set on overthrowing the forces of evil that beset society. I don't get to libraries very often so an abridged version is the only option for the road, or for a long journey at sea - you much of a sailor?"
|
|
Pip nods at the explanation, but it's clear that she's not terrible interested. Both 'structured society' and 'philosophical texts' hold little appeal to her. "I'm not much of a sailor," she replies. The Varisian half-orc then takes another long look at the tiefling, until recognition dawns on her face. "Hey, I think I remember you from back in Magnimar. My 'friends' took my to the pits occasionally when I was young. Didn't like it much, though - no offense."
The half-elf's questions has her wrinkling her nose. "I'm not really sure what I do - just what's necessary, I suppose. You never know where the Venture-Captains send you, right? That's what I like best about being a Pathfinder!" She curbs her own enthusiasm to give a more useful answer to the question. "I'm at my best exploring ancient sites, dodging and disabling traps and such. I've got a pretty good eye for trouble, and some magic to get myself out of tight spots. If it's needed, I know my way with a sword too. I suppose you're a marksman?" she counters Velidor's question, with a nod to his boomstick.
|
|
Mohok's massive head slowly turns to survey his newfound companions, his eyes surprisingly thoughtful for someone with such lumbering speech. His shoulders seem to relax a bit as he takes everyone in and realizes what a rogue's gallery they've assembled for this job, more half-orcs than he's ever worked with, a pair of tieflings too.
"I'm a tracker too," he rumbles with a nod to Velidor, "but I'll probably be right up next to Svetlana here when things get hot." Turning to Garam, he continues, "Jormundun, huh? Hell of a place, I killed a lot of demons there, learned a lot about fightin' them."
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
The woman regards Mohok fondly "Destroying demons, now there is an idea I am sure we can all get behind. No need to consider diplomatic solutions or broker deals - simply drive them straight back into the Abyss"
"When it comes to matters of diplomacy and debate, I am happy to let the honey-tongued amongst us ply their trade, but should they see a hidden threat we may have missed, or feel that the time for talk has ended and the time for violence has begun, then simply utter the phrase 'I sure could do with a Chelish Ale' and rub your chin thoughtfully in the direction of your target - and that person gets hit. Better we hit from surprise than cede the initiative"
|
|
Tiring from his flying exercise Garam will settle onto the crossbar of one of the masts. He watches his companions as they introduce themselves to each other.
I see I have been grouped up a bunch of sword swingers...again! I guess I get to be responsible for anything that requires more finesse...again!
He drops down to the deck. Do? You want to know what we all do? He eyes the gun toting half elf with a discerning eye. Well, the answer to that question could take a very long time but suffice to say I cast spells, lots of different spells, in fact, almost all of the different spells. I am also blessed with an array of other magical effects I can use to deal with anyone who means us harm. If there is anything you would like me to prepare just let me know.
He stops, pauses, then oh, but no Haste. If our ever knowledgeable VC wanted you lot to have Haste they should have sent a wizard. Mostly my magic controls things, the weather, minds, bodies, that sort of stuff. I often make life very chilly for our opposition and wrap them up in tendrils of ice. If you can manage a bit of energy resistance it might be a good idea.
He hops onto a barrel lashed to the side of the boat.
I am pretty well trained as well, spent months recently with a bunch of tedious wizards. I can make most magical items work and can normally craft a pretty good argument to convince would be enemies to be allies.
|
|
Boom sidles closer to Velidor than he would like. The smells of abundant bloodroot flower, vinegar, the tang of alkaloids, and probably alcohol fill his nostrils, among a dozen other scents more difficult to trace. The confusing compound is enough to make a grown man dizzy on a hot day. "I do... everything!" Boom says in a "whisper" that can be heard in the crow's nest. She does not have an indoor voice.
After a brief fit of giggles consumes her, Boom begins extolling her many skill sets. This does not stop until she is interrupted. "...and I don't cast "spells" -- ha! spelling! -- but I do make myself lots of very tasty and fun and fizzy and liquidy and sometimes syrupy beverages that do interesting things to me physiologically. Hee hee! Oooh, and then I've been developing this REALLY interesting beetle collection -- I just pinned my 18,318th specimen yesterday -- and I really like some of the newer theories on the height of Azlant so I've been studying that whole business over in Garund. I speak the language, actually, heee! And of course Osirionology is just FASCINATING, especially the whole politico-military bond with divs and such and..."
Sadly, you know nothing of the situation before you arrive, which is something you've grown to expect the last few years.
The journey eventually ends. It's no wonder the Society rarely uses teleportation magic. The Decemvirate likely prefers agents to get to know one another...
Venture-Captain Osretia Cassomiran welcomes you to her office, and delivers a curt briefing over spiced tea and sweet incense as she peruses an overflowing bookshelf distractedly. “I d to send you to Koor, where a valuable Pathfinder agent has seemingly disappeared. Her name is Zahra Kadamizi—a gifted scholar and archaeologist, and one of the most knowledgeable agents I know on the topic of genies. When she last reported in, she was searching for an ancient Toragdan vault-turned-prison hidden amid Koor’s crumbling ruins.”
Osretia drops a heavy book on a table with a dull thud; its cover reads Moukadeem, the Drowned Emir of the Ever-Thirsting Oasis. She opens the book and begins to read aloud:
Deep within Koor, in the year four thousand twenty, Absalom Reckoning, I, Ahmad of the North, trapped the mighty marid Moukadeem in an iron lamp, casting a seal of solitude upon it. Let none free him, may Torag be praised. And thus I threw the lamp into the steel vault of the mighty Father of Creation below the forge-city Koor...”
Osretia leans back, and took a sip from her tea. “This is clearly why Zahra went looking for the vault, and perhaps why she’s gone silent if she found it. I want you to collect her notes, penetrate the vault, and bring her back safely. If you should find this storied iron lamp, of course you must bring it back as well. Any questions?”
MOUKADEEM:
KOOR
|
|
Moukadeem
Know Hist
Koor
Know Hist
"The marid known as Moukadeem plagued the headwaters of the River Ladan over 700 years ago. His wicked ways and penchant for cruelty earned him the moniker, “The Mad Marid”.
***
"Was the Agent alone, or did she have a team with her?
"What do we know about fighting Marids?"
|
|
Pip sits on the edge of her chair as she listens to the Venture-Captain talking. "Zahra?" she exclaims. "I think I read some of her reports!"
"I read that as well," she mentions to Svetlana before expanding on that knowledge. "But that's actually the least of what I've read about him. He has an... appetite for human women. During his reign of terror, he err... mixed his blood with the most beautiful of Qadiran woman. Even today, many undines from Northern Qadira can trace their heritage back to this mad marid. Anyway, this Ahmad - a high priest of Torag, finally managed to punish Moukadeem for his crimes and bound him in that lamp we heard about."
She seems done talking for a moment, but that's only for taking breath. Clearly, Pip loves talking about the history she's read so much about. "So, Koor is actually a bit of a mystery. It was abandoned during the war between Taldor and Qadira, and no one really knows why it was never repopulated. There's actually two interesting stories I read about Koor. One of them talks about a Qadiran noble who had his a dowry - an immense treasure, as it's told! - within Koor, just around the time is was abandoned. It's a pretty sad story, actually - because Koor was abandoned and the vault keeper deserted, the noble couldn't reach the dowry anymore and lost the chance to marry his true love.." She seems about to mention that the treasure must still be there, but considers that such is obvious. Besides, she doesn't want to ruin the story.
"Anyway, the other story deals with the cult of Torag. They were actually the reason why Koor was so well-known as a forge-city. The Toragdans encouraged efficient production and unmatched quality, you can imagine. So, when the city became contested during the war, the cult's leadership decided to pack up and leave. They'd rather abandon the entire thing tahn contributing their expertise to a needlessly bloody war."
She finally takes another breath. "That's all I got," she then manages to say as the looks around the group. "Anyone else have something to share?" The question seems a non-starter, but she's completely sincere.
--
Pip's knowledge is truly extensive
Answering Svetlana's questions the VC thinks, "She had no team that I'm aware of. A very valuable Pathfinder agent, and an expert on genies. She’s an undine, you see, and has a passion for learning all she can about the marid blood that runs through her veins. She felt confident in her abilities.”
|
|
Pip laughs sheepishly. "Thanks. I, eh, just like to read a lot."
She turns to the Venture-Captain for some questions. "I didn't know Zahra was an undine. Could she have been bold enough to seek out Moukadeem to release him? You know how such texts always warn people against freeing powerful beings from their prison, but no one seems to heed those warnings... Can't say I blame them - most of the time..."
"Also, can we expect any trouble on the way from here to Koor?"
"Finally, do we know something of the layout of Koor, and where the Vault might be?"
They aren't resistant to any weapons or energy types. They have a slew of spell like abilities including things like invisibility and gaseous form at will, as well as plane shifting willing creatures. They can also control water in ways such as cleaning it of contaminants and shooting it like a wizard's blast.
“I’d like to believe she intends to return this powerful artifact to the Society, but her singular obsession with genies—and marids specifically—gives me pause. She could very well want the lamp for her own purposes; that’s why we want you to find her and ensure she doesn’t get in over her head. Unfortunately, it's not called "Forgotten Koor" for nothing. We know next to nothing about what you'll find. The way there should be safe though.
|
|
As the others chatter on Garam will make his own preparations. He consults his various books, digging them out of a bag far too small to contain quite so many volumes. He casts a quick spell and takes out a pair of slender wands, one of pale birch carved with many eyeballs and the other of shining blue crystal.
Yes Pip, I think you have squeezed everything out of that, well, almost everything says Garam with a playful smile...
The ruins have an ancient protector, a guardian naga intent on keeping out those who might seek to claim the lamp which might explain why it remains deserted. We must tread carefully I think...
Garam activates his wand of heightened awareness and investigative mind and casts heroism as he consults his pathfinder chronicles. Investigative mind lets him roll twice on up to three knowledge checks.
take the best +19, for 31
, take the best +29 for 39
take the best +26 for 46
For Marids, do they have any immunities, special attacks, defences or vulnerabilities.
For Nagas most interested in immunities, resistances and special attacks as well as spell casting abilities.
Captain, can you give us a description of this agent, or perhaps a picture or something which belonged to her. Did she have quarters here where we might find something useful, even a single lock of hair could make tracing her with magic much simpler.
Also, how far is Koor from here, what's the terrain like, are we likely to encounter anything unpleasant on the way?
The VC adds, "You first stop is a simple base camp outside Koor, on the road leading north to Omash. It was the staging point of Zahra’s Koor expedition. If there IS anything, it'll be there."
Garam also concludes that you're likely to be heading towards a place of intense heat. The mountains and terrain mean exposed magma is not outside the realm of possibility.
|
|
"I can deal with traps!!!" Boom booms excitedly, partway through setting up what appears to be a full alchemy lab on the floor of the Venture Captain's office.
Anyone who knows Boom, of course, would know that her preferred method of dealing with traps is to set them off. On herself.
Humming loudly to herself and giggling occasionally, Boom mixes a pair of concoctions and slips them into a bandoleer at her waist. She leaves the copious spills and burn marks in the floor untouched as she throws vials and beakers back into a bag.
|
|
Pip seems happy to have another another bit of knowledge about Koor to her repertoire. "Oh, I didn't know that, about the naga. That's good to know."
"So, about those marids. They're water genies, but everyone knew that already. Right? The good news is," she says looking at all the Pathfinders with their assortment of weapons, "that they don't have any special resistances to physical weapons. Or to energy attacks. They're quite dangerous though, having all kinds of magical abilities. Mostly dealing with water, and vapor like gaseous form. Oh, and invisibility and plane shift of course."
Seeing how the meeting is about to end, Pip gets her affairs in order. "I suppose I'll have to do some last-minute shopping. I did say this was my first time in Qadira, right?" She nods at Velidor's question about traps. "I can disarm traps, if we find any," she answers. "Wouldn't be much use exploring ancient sites if I couldn't deal with traps." She laughs.
The party takes some time to shop for some last minute items before heading out to look for the erstwhile Pathfinder.
Indeed the journey to the east is easy, and uneventful. The wind keeps you relatively cool and fresh water is easy to come by. Eventually you find what must be your goal. You see it just as the sun is coming up after camping. It's so close you might have made it last night.
A multi-hued pavilion tent bristles against the wind as its unsecured flap whips wildly in the sandblasted desert. Ahead, a large white-washed causeway slants skyward toward a shattered citadel capped with a gleaming bronze dome. Behind the citadel, several minarets stretch their worn brass and bronze exteriors toward the sky. Even more impressive is the huge clay wall that encases the crumbling city of Koor. As the sun crests the horizon, the first unbearable rays of heat reflect off Koor’s long-baked earthen fortifications, staining them a blood red—an eerie sight, regardless of whether it’s a tribute to the fallen defenders of the once-great forge-city, or merely a trick of light.
Garam's spell produces a result, the Voice From Beyond speaketh, "Zahra has been given a gift through love at the heart of the furnace, though it is not the gift she sought."
Garam eagerly looks about the camp. The first few tents seem to be little more than supply tents. One of the larger ones seems much more promising though.
Rich carpets soften the earthen floor of this lavish pavilion, and time-weathered maps envelop a desk and table. Opposite the map-buried surfaces rest lavish pillows and a plush bed that beckon to road-weary travelers. Several crates stand stacked along the tent’s southern fold. Its northern flap contain an armor stand and two tables covered in equipment.
It seems that there are potentially a slew of leads in here. His first cursory look draws his attention to a map of Koor. It's old, and the map depicts Koor in its halcyon days. There's a building circled in red. It's labeled "Smelting House"...
|
|
As Garam studies the maps and other clues he's found inside, Mohok gestures to Velidor, then at the ground, remarking, "Let's see if she left any sign of which way she went, and when."
He goes around the luxuriously-appointed tent in ever-widening circles, seeking footprints, a crushed blade of desert grass, or other signs of Zahra's passing.
|
|
***
Once clear of the bustle of the city the glammer surrounding Svetlana fades away slowly, revealing her to be dressed not in quality silks but finely decorated and ornate Hellknight Plate of blackened steel - featuring dozens of tiny leering imps of cold iron worked into the metal - closer inspection notes all of the Imps wings are razor sharp. On her breastplate is the seal showing the same Infernal eye staring out of a vortex, and also the seal of the House of Thrune.
She wields a bardiche with a wickedly keen blade or adamantine.
Standing at the entrance to the tent she fishes for her silver Wayfinder once more and checks the needle, then her eyes switch to an inky blackness momentarily as she looks at the tent...