The missive didn't include many details except to mention that you were needed in the City of Nerosyan and that expediency was of the essence. Any thoughts of balking at the order were swiftly squashed when the sender was recognized - the Decemvirate themselves. So, from far and wide, each of you traveled across the world to Nerosyan, the capital of the crusader state of Mendev.
Located at a valuable strategic location, guarding the junction where the Egelsee River flowing from the east meets the northern-most branch of the Sellen River, it's visible at a glance that Nerosyan is designed first and foremost as a defensive fortification. The city is laid out in a diamond pattern between the two rivers, in order to maximize their defensive potential and the outer walls are topped with crenelations, and dozens of towers rise from the walls, ensuring that the defenders can pour fire into any attacking force. The top of the walls are covered in sloped roofs cut with arrow slits, designed to allow defenders to ward off the flying attacker. At the center of the city stands a massive cathedral, built to allow defenders to easily sally out to any part of the city.
Per the instructions in the missive, you make your way to a large mess hall within the Starrise Spire, one of two Pathfinder lodges in Nerosyan. A small army of Confirmed agents are already gathered here, all busily speculating the reason for the summons among themselves.
A dusky-skinned man in richly decorated armor stands atop a small stage at the head of the mess hall. He clears his throat and speaks in a loud clear voice that lowers the rest of the volume in the room.
“Fellow Pathfinders, I am Jorsal of Lauterbury, Venture Captain of Nerosyan. I welcome you to the Starrise Spire and bid you to find a seat and speak with the other guests. Once everyone is comfortably seated, I will get to the point of this great gathering.”
After he's said his piece, the Venture Captain descends from the stage. You find yourselves among peers, some of which you may recognize...
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The elven lady sits quietly in the corner, knitting something and whittling a jaunty little tune. She looks up while the Venture Captain introduces himself, and nods at the clearly impatient lass in dark armor. "Dearie, you're going to get a permanent frown line in that face of yours if you keep looking so taxed. You're much too pretty to let that happen. Take a deep breath and I'm sure they'll get to us soon enough. You ever knit? Helps me to stay relaxed. Right now, I'm making little Zeriah a sweater. She'll look so cute..."
As the elf coos about the sweater, a tiny monkey is bouncing about from her shoulder to the floor, happily keeping herself entertained.
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A dark-haired woman stands amidst plenty of other adventurers in the mess hall, on-and-off exchanging brief greetings and chit-chat with various other Pathfinders who pass on by. Typically Ulfen in appearance with a tall and powerful build, long wild hair with occasional bead-encrusted braids, and pale skin, her face is tattooed with blue ink in straight lines from her jawline to mid-cheek. She's also well-equipped for battle, already wearing her well-loved and slightly dinted breastplate and having a large wooden shield painted with a howling wolf resting against the back of a chair in front of her - not to mention the numerous weaponry hilts poking out of every spare sheath or belt hook.
Once the Venture-Captain has said his part, she says a quick goodbye to her current conversation partner and grabs her shield before sauntering off to take a seat. A chair two down from Imperia creaks loudly under the weight of all her gear, and Sigrun takes the opportunity to unload some of her stuff on the empty chair between them.
"'Lo there," she says offhandedly as she unbuckles a mace from her thick leather belt, speaking not necessarily to Imperia but to all those agents nearby. "What d'ya reckon? We're all here up in Mendev - it's gotta be demons afoot, yeah?"
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A tall, muscular man wearing a finely crafted cuirass leans casually on his spear. He's almost handsome, in a rugged sort of way, but his eyes... His eyes seem to be made of pure steel, their gaze seeming to bore holes into the skulls of the assembled Pathfinders. Hearing the three ladies speak, he seems to come out of a trance, his eyes seeming more normal and his face now covered with an easy grin.
"Well met ladies. My name's Talwin. Talwin Bernhold. I am simply a questioner in the church of Abadar. I apologize if I seem a bit fervent at times. Heresy and apostasy are my foes as often as not. But I can deal with demons or other monsters as well." With that he motions to his weapon and makes a light shine on his holy symbol, a large silver key on a chain around his neck.
To Lexia he says: "I serve the Silver Crusade myself, but my trusted friend Oswin Durnhelm is a priest in service to the Inheritor. I have a great deal of respect for the member of your church, milady."
To Sigrun: "You may well be right, Sigrun. I'd not be surprised if were forced to test our mettle against the fiends of the beyond before long."
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These three seem so...aggressive. Good sorts to have in the
Worldwound, I suppose.
Tessara introduces herself to the others. "Nice to met all you young people. I'm glad Golarion has such fervent protectors in the new generation. Some of us older folk are getting too feeble to be of much good anymore," she smiles as her needle keeps expertly flying back and forth, even as she looks up at the others.
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"As you are no doubt aware, most churches have enlisted questioners to be defenders of the faith at large. Some call us 'inquisitors', as a few churches have set up 'inquisitions' to root our heresy among their membership. I'm also sure you've been exposed ot the basic tenets of my faith. In short, Abadar stands for order, as aheived through civilization, law, and well-regulated commerce. But laws must be meaningful and should be obeyed in both letter and spirit. I seek to root out corruption where I can find it and bring justice to places where it cannot otherwise be found."
"And please excuse my occasional staring. As a knight of Iomedae, you've no doubt been blessed with the ability to determine the nature of certain creatures' character, that is to determine whether or not they are 'evil'. Well, as an 'inquisitor' I have a much broader ability. I can sense when someone is good or evil, or whether they are lawful by nature or chaotic. I've gotten into the habit of using this talent too often. My apologies if it seemed rude earlier."
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"As for our mission it is probably another outlandish request by the Blakros family. " she says some what disappointed giving a quick glance at the monkey.
"Ha! Out here? And with so many agents on the prowl?" Sigrun chuckles to herself. "Even the illustrious Blakroses wouldn't pay for something like this. There's certainly profit to be made out of the Crusades, but it's something you do safely out of reach of the demons up here. Nope--I reckon it's something bigger than that."
Talwin interjects himself into the conversation at this point, and Sigrun offers a friendly hand for him to shake as well. Guy seemed pretty creepy, especially with all this talk about "heresy" and "sin" and "justice", but, well... Sigrun was pretty sure Abadarians were tax collectors, and she certainly didn't want to get on the bad side of a bloke like that. "Yo, Talwin. So what's my nature then, buddy?"
Sigrun smiles at the elven woman, nodding her head to Tessara in greeting. "Oh c'mon, I'm sure you're not as feeble and weak as you're trying to make yourself out to be. Wouldn't be in the Society if you were like an old autumn leaf. Don't you elves live forever, anyway?"
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Talwin replies to the ladies' questions.
To Imperia he says: "I do not not serve a government in my duties here. Rather, I seek to further the cause of good under the direction of Venture-Captain Ollystra Zadrian, head of the Silver Crusade. I'm not sure you'd approve of my nationality, but I am Andoran by birth, though my maternal grandparents were Galtans. I've come to realize that what I thought I could expect from people based on their place of birth is often wrong, however."
He then turns to Sigrun and flashes a grin: "You, milady, are quite hard to make out. Clearly capable and self-confident. Yes, my friend Oswin mentioned you when we lasted dined together in Absalom. He description was fairly accurate. Perhaps a bit flattering, but old Oswin was always taken with warrior women."
"Your aura doesn't register for any of my abilities, but that only means you've no special disposition towards 'good' or 'evil' on the whole. If I had to guess I'd say that you look to take care of yourself and those you trust, but that few people have earned said trust. Don't worry, I'm not here to ask about your past or pass any sort of judgement. That is is reserved for our foes and for the lost sheep of my own faith."
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Talwin lets out a quiet chuckle.
"Well, this world of ours is a strange place, is it not? My own homeland's good name impugned by a citizen of Cheliax. It grieves me that I must concede this point to you. Corruption indeed has been showing itself in Andoran. It was disappointment in my homeland that led me to join the Society. I'm not the sort to make a good 'inside man'. Andoran Pathfinders have been focused outward for so long, that it came almost as a surprise to me when our comrades said they have been tasked by Major Maldris with rooting out corruption at home. But my choice is made. I serve Abadar and his church, not the nation of my birth. Perhaps I am unpatriotic. But I hope to do good throughout the Inner Sea. Good laws, well-regulated commerce, and peaceful affairs are good for all. Hopefully I can make a difference in some small way."
The mess hall grows uncomfortably full as more Pathfinders file in. Even a few of the elusive veteran Seekers are seen, taking a break from whatever need-to-know basis task they were previously assigned to. It seems whatever is being planned requires the whole of the Society’s strength.
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Sigrun laughs quite heartily at Talwin's description of her. "You're not just a man with a strange hobby! You seem like you can read people pretty well. Aye, that comes in handy man."
She pauses for a moment in thought, frowning as she searches her memory. "Oswin... Oswin... Oh! I remember him now. Well-mannered guy. Seemed a little unsure of his sword arm. Good guy though."
With the conversation rapidly veering into awkward territory (ye gods did the Andorens and Chelaxians bicker!) Sigrun turns her attentions to the wider floor, zoning out Imperia and Talwin as she tries to find more familiar faces in the crowd. When Imperia finally asks her to talk a bit about herself, she snaps back to attention quite suddenly, seemingly disoriented for a few moments.
"Uh? About me? Oh... Y'know. Nothing much interesting. When I was a kid I wanted to slay the great linnorm Fafnheir and become a leader of my homeland," she grins, "but... well, I guess stuff happened along the way and now I'm a Pathfinder." Sigrun seems to gloss quite quickly over her past. "I've been all around the place, so the Society likes hiring me to handle missions into not well known territory. I'm also a shrewd dealer when it comes to makin' deals and transactions, if I do say so myself."
"Got stake in my own merchant caravan now," she adds proudly. "Remember what I said about makin' profits outta the Crusades? Well, I got some dwarven friends of mine I know from the Five Kings Mountains to ship some of their fine weaponry up here to the 'Wound. Good blades up here for the war effort, and a healthy sum of gold for our efforts. Win-win for both sides."
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Nerosyan is divided into several districts, though the locals often group smaller districts together. The four amalgamated districts include the Egelsee District to the southeast, Confluence District to the southwest, Woundward District to the northwest, and Battle District to the northeast.
Considered the heart of Nerosyan, the Cruciform Cathedral is the center of Iomedaean worship and the literal center of the city. Acting as a tactical command point, the cathedral allows crusaders to quickly move about the city via the interior walls that section off the city.
The demonic hosts are kept somewhat in line by powerful overlords known as demon lords. The exact number of demon lords is unknown, but many such creatures are revered on Golarion. Each demon lord has a portfolio, similar to that of a deity; however, most demon lords lack many of the powers a true god possesses.
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Sigrun blinks. She appears genuinely confused by that comment. "Not really. Unless you want all the crusaders up here to just stop fighting the demons, I mean, that's your call and all, but I'd prefer Golarion to remain in one piece, y'know?"
"Providing arms in wartime is incredibly important, unless you're naive enough to think that we can just put all the weapons down and let everything be."
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"I strike a good deal," Sigrun replies evenly. She continues patiently, although it's clear that Imperia's black-and-white view of the world is beginning to frustrate her.
"But it's not just the crusaders that are in need. There's the workers on the caravan - the people who are actually out there travelling across the country. I accompany them when I can, but they're hard-working people doing a dangerous job who all have families back home. Then there's also the dwarven smiths. The dwarven miners. The local farmers who feed all these workers and provide the horses for the caravans. The wainwrights and the farriers. The innkeepers whose places they stay at on the journey."
Sigrun eventually just sighs and shakes her head. "All I'm sayin' - there's more to the business than just what makes it into my pocket. There's lots of people who benefit. And what makes any of them more or less needy than the folk up here fightin' demons? I can't run any of this if I don't get some money back in the end. If my money drains up, I can't fund it, and all these people are out of a job, out of some coin."
"And I ain't gonna do something for nothing either. Because I need to put food on my table as well."
Once the minor argument is over, Sigrun can inform everyone about the layout of Nerosyan! So exciting!
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Talwin's eyes grow wide as the exchange between Sigrun and Imperia grows more heated. He opens his mouth a couple of time to begin speaking, but invariably one of them talks first. Finally, as Imperia turns away he manages to stammer:
"The Worldwound...it formed...right after Aroden died. I'm not sure if that's important, but it sure is an odd coincidence. It's some kind of rift into the Abyss. That where all the demons come from. And should even the combined might the Society has gathered here face but a single demon lord I would very much doubt our chance of victory."
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Sigrun shuffles awkwardly at Imperia's reaction. She hadn't expected the thus-far quite arrogant woman to be so easily upset by... well, by Sigrun's standards they weren't even remotely harsh. She'd never survive around other Ulfen people, gods. Bloody softies, these southerners.
"Hey," she offers weakly, approaching Imperia and lightly tapping her on the shoulder. "Sorry, I... guess. Don't mean to upset you. Your life must be pretty different to mine, eh?"
The ranger nods in acquiescence with Talwin's thoughts on demon lords. "Like hell I'd stick around to fight something like that. Might as well throw your life away."
Venture Captain Jorsal climbs atop the stage once again and clears his throat. "I apologize for the delay friends. It will be just a moment longer. Please, get to know one another. It's not often that there's this many of us under one room at the same time."
Afer the Venture Captain finishes, the volume in the mess hall picks up again as the last few stragglers file into the space.
One of these stragglers appears a bit confused and stops when he crosses the group. He's a well-built older taldan man clad from head to toe in ornate platemail armor. The symbol of Iomadae is embossed across his chest. "Thank the Inheritor", the older man says in a rich baritone. "It hasn't begun has it."
He pauses, realizing that he doesn't recognize any of you.
"Apologies, how rude of me. I am Sir Osbert Deloray, knight-errant and servant of Iomadae. Am I correct in assuming that you're all confirmed agents?"
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"Yes sir, I am in fact confirmed." Talwin shows Sir Osbert his engraved wayfinder.
"My name is Talwin Bernhold. I follow Abadar, for my part. I have participated in four ventures for the Society thus far, but that still leaves me rather inexperienced. Have you any advice for newer agents like myself?'
”Well met, both of you”, Sir Osbert replies. ”Advice? When you’re as old as I am, all you have is advice”, he answers Talwin with a laugh. ”The best I can give you in short order is, trust your comrades and keep your wits about you. Your betters don’t always offer all the relevant information.”
”As for the purpose of this gathering, I’m afraid I can’t say I know either. I do know the Society maintains a presence here thanks to an elaborate treaty – part of which requires the Society’s involvement in the city’s defense and participation in crusades – but I can’t imagine either are the case here. We would know about it already.”
”I’m just glad we’re in the Starrise Spire with Jorsal instead of that louse Thurl.”
The aged paladin smirks at Imperia’s question before reaching for Tessara's hand to plant a gentle kiss on it. ”It's a pleasure to meet you Tessara. I must apologize again. I go on like a fool, assuming you all know everyone in the city.”
”Nerosyan is an oddity for having two fully functioning lodges within its walls, each with its own venture-captain. Jorsal instructs field agents, seeks lost crusader relics, and keeps the Society in good standing with Queen Galfrey. Thurl focuses on more ‘academic’ endeavors, focusing on Abyssal artifacts and understanding demonic anatomy. Thurl and his lodge are actually the more senior of the two. He began his work here a full decade before Jorsal was assigned to build up the Starrise Spire in order to promote local exploration.”
”I tend to agree”, the paladin answers with a small frown. ”but the venture captains have assured me that the defenses for both lodges are quite potent.”