You join your fellow agents in the gladiator city of Tymon at Smine’s Weaponworks, famed smithy and clandestine Pathfinder lodge run by the dwarven Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine.
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Fandral steps into the smithy in a smooth motion, and quickly drops his bag by the door. He straitens his royal purple Pirates jacket Captian's coat and asdjust his cutlass before he finds a chair to sit in.
"Smine, good to see you again. The last mission you sent me on got me a lot of good treasure. So I am anxious to see what you have for me this time"
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The door to the lodge swings open, but at first you just notice a longspear with a green banner with gold trim and a gold leafed Glyph of the Open Road stamped in the middle.. Following the haft down you see a smiling gnome wearing a pack stuffed to the brim.
"Hello gents! My name is Floggentop Wizzbottle III, back from vacation and ready to go! My friends call me Wizzy as my name is a bit long to say every time and since all pathfinders are my friends you may call me Wizzy for short! This way I'm not offended when you pronounce my name wrong or something."
He moves into the room and finds himself a seat. He is a cheerful fellow, but obviously a little vocal at times..
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A smiling, yet rugged looking Dwarf struts confidently into Tymon's Weapon Works. Across his back is a mighty adamantine Dwarven longhammer and his body is protected by a well worn armored coat - spattered in what appears to be dried blood and crusted with small chunks of Gods only knows what in the nooks and crannies. His most impressive feature though isn't the arsenal at his back, or even his finely braided Dwarven beard; not even the mass of muscle packed into his thick Dwarven frame competes with the halfling sized tuft of chest hair protruding between the beard and his visible navel just peeking out of the half-unzipped coat. Nestled lightly on top of the mass of hair is a great quantity of gold jewelry.
He smiles an enormous smile as his voice booms, clearly having heard the conversation before entering. Ha! Sounds like someone hasn't eaten his mutton this morning. We all know Pathfinders job is to find treasure and be home before noon! Ha! Don't you worry your little feathered head at all, you've got 'ol BURNGAR ROCKHARD of the Silver Crusade with you now. Nobody is doing anything but finding honest treasure on my watch!
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A fine example of a dwarf, his facial hair lustrous and well-kempt, with elaborate braids and clasps, strokes his brown beard as he considers the mission. The hair on the top of his head is swept back, while the sides are shaved and tattooed with elaborate blue runes.
His eyes glitter with greed at the thought of treasure.
"Ye can have mah morality an' mah grandma, tay, if we can fin' some nice treasure," he says without a hint of jest.
The faint scent of smoldering beeswax lingers sweetly
beneath the smell of burnt coal permeating the simply furnished common room. The modest decor of Tymon’s Pathfinder lodge allows it to masquerade as a boarding house above Smine’s Weaponworks, the most popular blacksmith shop in the city.
Below, the cadence of hammer striking anvil rings clear as apprentices toil to meet the demands of gladiators, warriors, and adventurers alike. Heavy footfalls thump up the stairs, and the door opens to reveal a sturdy dwarf, clad in a thick leather apron and covered in soot— Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine.
His sentences are short and staccato like the sounds from the forges below.
“Aha, good! Asked for some veterans, looks like I got’em, so I’ll be direct. We’ve found another piece of Sky Key—rather, found someone who knows where to look. Seems the favors we did in Mendev are paying off. Some dwarves there, they came forward with information—good, reliable information about a community in Chesed.”
He pauses for a moment as if awaiting a reaction. “In Numeria,” he adds. “I’ve pieced together some histories. It all seems legitimate. Looks like the eldest prince from Jormurdun went that way. He settled down, had kids. Our contact, Ingret Jor, is his great-somethinggranddaughter. We’re betting she inherited more than just his good looks.”
Smine takes a moment to start pulling a hunk of bread and a block of cheese from a cupboard as simple refreshments.
“There’s a boat for you at the docks. Plan’s to get you up to Chesed, find Ingret Jor, and make friends. Friends talk. Of course, your friend gets to talk about the Sky Key. Chesed dwarves are pretty close, though. You’ll need to make sure you’re good friends, or at least be her friends’ friends. We dwarves like anyone who has dwarves’ best interests up here,” says tapping his head, “And here,” he says with a hand over his heart.
“Chesed’s a free city in name, but the Black Sovereign and the Technic League own it. Probably already watching Ingret. Learn what you can. When you know where the key is, go get it. Nice people got it? Play nice. Off in some ruin? Go be Pathfinders. Technic League’s got it? Well, make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Smine looks at Fandral and Blanchbeak with a concerned face.
"The Technic League? Dangerous. Dastardly. Cutthroat. That’s on good days. Very secretive with lots of wizards. Long on ambition, short on morals. They’ve been studying the Silver Mount and other things that crashed on Starfall. Really don’t like other people snooping—especially Pathfinders. In fact, Pathfindering’s illegal—punishable by death. How’s that for tyranny?”
He grins wryly but becomes serious again if nobody else laughs. “Anyway, best to lie low and not make a ruckus. Unless you have to.”
Ingret Jor runs a tavern on the east shore slums. Earns her a lot of coin and respect. That sort of work also makes her too public to hide a secret well; she’s going to be tight-lipped. No love of strangers asking questions.”
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Burngar smiles cheerfully at Blanchbeak, "Ha! If you didn't want to find treasure, why become a Pathfinder my feathered friend? Didn't you read the handbook before applying? To borrow the phrase my Dwarven cousin here just mentioned, finding treasure is what Pathfindering is all about! Ha! Some of us are here to just ensure we do it ethically."
He turns to Smine, "Ha! Got it, no ruckus. Go in, turn on the Dwarven charms to Ingret Jor, find the location of the sky key, and return it home quietly. Other than the bird, we seem cheery enough to blend in!"
kn:local Though nominally under the rule of the Black Sovereign, Chesed enjoys certain administrative and governmental freedoms that other settlements in Numeria do not. The cost of this is steep, paid in gold to the Black Sovereign and the Technic League. Visitors to Chesed can expect to find the prices of goods and gear to be exorbitantly high as a result, a fact that doesn’t sit well with many. In fact, the longer the crusades continue, the more crusaders arrive on the front lines utterly destitute and too ill-equipped to fight.
Smine looks doubtfully at Fandral.
Ingret Jor won’t trust just anyone, but she’ll trust her friends. Find who they are, and be their friends. They can vouch for you.
Her sort of work makes her too public to hide a secret well; she’s going to be tight-lipped. No love of strangers asking questions.”
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A desnand cleric, dressed in a humble tunic but clanking as if he wears real armor agrees with Wizzy; Of course we can make friends. then he gazes admonishingly at Fandral and Burngar, even if some of us thinks a lot in gold and women.
When will need to embark? I need to buy and create some supplies
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Wizzy fiddles with some books from his bag while the dwarf talks, reassuring himself of his knowledge on such things.. He mutters to his wayfinder after the process..
"Sounds like it will be best if I keep my Banner of the Open Road in ma pack while we walk around. I can retrieve it real fast and in a hurry if we need it though.."
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Clandelve smirks and responds to Blachbeak.
"Thenk goodness Torag has naethin' against acquirin' some nice treasure. Perhaps yoo'll show jist hoo devoted ye are an impart yer share ay th' treasure tae me!" he laughs with a wink at Burngar.
The dwarf doesn't have anything to add about their destination, but seems prepared to leave at any time.
Wizzbottle and Blanchbeak recall a wealth of information (you recall all below, spoilered for space).
15+ Chesed is the largest city in Numeria and the dominant economic power in the region. As one of the last stops along the road to Mendev and the Worldwound, Chesed has seen an enormous influx of crusaders and other travelers that only serve to further fill the city’s coffers. 20+ Though nominally under the rule of the Black Sovereign, Chesed enjoys certain administrative and governmental freedoms that other settlements in Numeria do not. The cost of this is steep, paid in gold to the Black Sovereign and the Technic League. Visitors to Chesed can expect to find the prices of goods and gear to be exorbitantly high as a result, a fact that doesn’t sit well with many. In fact, the longer the crusades continue, the more crusaders arrive on the front lines utterly destitute and too ill-equipped to fight. 25+ Slavery is legal in Chesed, but slave trading is outlawed. Any slave not registered properly within one hour of entering Chesed is freed immediately, making Chesed a popular destination for runaway slaves and fugitives from the Technic League. 30+ The Technic League is not well liked in the city of Chesed. Though the cabal maintains an office in the city and is rumored to have spies everywhere, its influence is opposed at every turn by a handful of charismatic community leaders.
15+ The Techic League is a formerly secret society whose chief goal is the acquisition of personal and worldly power through magic and Numerian technology.
20+ The League is incredibly protective of its secrets and power, and it ruthlessly hunts down those who leave Numeria with technology or knowledge thereof. League agents often murder anyone investigating their secrets in order to maintain the organization’s monopoly of the strange technology.
30+ Many believe the Technic League is the true power behind Numeria’s ruler, Kevoth-Kul, who holds the title “Black Sovereign.” High-ranking members are said to meld technology into their very bodies, using it to fuel their magic and vice-versa.
Smine also bends down pulls aside a floorboard and extracts a leather-bound book.
Keeping his voice low, This here is a copy of A Thread of Silver, a very valuable text and one that
the Technic League takes great pains to keep from falling into anyone else’s hands.
The book contains detailed field notes about dozens of Numerian crash sites and other points of interest in the region
Smine continues It is a copy the Pathfinder Society recovered from the Technic League at great cost.
He places the text on the table with a serious look It is yours to use for the duration of their mission. Just don't lose it.
Venture-Captain Smine wraps up...
You free to travel to Chesed however you wish. If ye don't have any strong opinions,
I will offer to book passage on a boat that leaves at dawn, traveling downriver to Kallas Lake and then up the Sellen past Sevenarches and Hajoth Hakados
to eventually reach the Lake of Mists and Veils. Any other questions? No?
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Burngar, can we continue the conversation later? We have a long travel in sight and we can spare time talking about whatever you prefer. Then he turns to the Venture Captain.
Your offering to lend it says pointing at the book, honor all of us. We'll take care of it and return it back without any harm.
When you are done with questions and purchases, you head the next morning to the boat to depart.
Travel to Chesed from Tymon is realtively expeditious and punctuated by a few failed attempts by river pirates to waylay your craft, which you easily chase away. Reaching the port city of Chesed late in the afternoon.
Mighty Chesed stands proudly where the headwaters of the Lake of Mists and Veils flows into the Sellen River. On the western bank, the spires of the Cathedral of the Lawgiver and those of the council offices tower above the opulent estates of merchant princes, and the clamor of the wealthy patrons of the luxury markets mingle with the cries of excitement coming from the arena.
Across the river, the east bank sits in comparative squalor. Short mud-brick and wooden hovels crowd together in rundown blocks. Filth-lined streets occasionally give way to a morass of poorly drained night soil. Yet everywhere one looks there are people—nobles and ruffians, humans and halflings, crusaders and merchants alike mingle in the markets. Shop stalls and vendors set up on every street corner give the illusion that the city is but a single, extended bazaar.
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Wizzy makes sure any obvious signs that he is a "Pathfinder" are tucked away before departing the ship. He also casts extended heroism on himself..
"First order of business should be to locate this tarvern our mark owns and go size her up. If we need to get close to her friends first we must figure out who such friends are.. Let me do some asking around."
Wizzy makes his way to some of the more attractive shops/stalls and asks about information regarding taverns in the East Shore Slums..
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"Ha! That's right my bird headed friend! Her name is Ingrit, not Mark! Ha! Lead ahead my little gnome, I will follow your lead!"
Burngar follows the lead on this one and is surprisingly quiet as he follows the Gnome.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Once they're away from the lodge Garret answers Burngar slap with is own. My name is Garret, forgive me if the joy of the incomming travel had made me forgive my good moods. And please, don't get my attitude wrong; I can had fun and enjoy the pleasures of the life. But the captain was serious about the book and making jokes in front of him could cause him to reconsider lending it to us.
Once in Chesed in thinks about intervene when his companions starts to arguing, but soon it's clear to be unnecesary, so he joins Wizzy in his search for the tavern.
By asking a few questions, you can learn that Ingret Jor runs a small tavern called the Silver Lining, which is on the dockside edge of the Fleshward on the eastern bank of the Sellen.
wizzy and Garrett learn a bit with inquries with a surly dwarf merchant near the docks.
“Ingret Jor, she knows plenty of like-minded folk in Chesed. Look for community leaders who care about us dwarves’ lot.
Brissa Klygvauther comes to mind; she’s earned a lot of respect, what with being the high priest of Abadar inna city made of coin. If you see her, give’er my regards."
He waits for strangers to pass by then finishes in a hushed tone.
“There’s also a fellow—Vel Bindergorrp—got a salve and tonic shop.
Bit of an eccentric one, but trustworthy.”
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Burngar ponders the options Wizzy and Garrett lay out, "Ha! Dwarves! I'll admit that many of us aren't exactly the friendly folk! Stick together, that's what I say! Ha! I vote for the salve and tonic shop, I've got this armor chafing problem that's been bothering me since we got on that boat!" Burngar uncomfortably adjusts his armor coat by unbuttoning it entirely, scratching a large reddish patch that's formed under his right armpit, and re-buttoning only the lowest two.
You are on the western side of town (see red star on map). The tonic shop is reportedly in the Chymist’s Ward, across the river via Leaguefold Bridge. The trip will cover several miles on foot through the city.
The Ward distinguishes itself as an entirely separate district from the rest of Chesed. Alchemists, apothecaries, and tinkerers go about their daily routine there.
Opting for the closer destination first, you approach the large temple.
The Cathedral of the Lawgiver is equal parts house of worship, bank, loan office, and fortress. The outer walls still bear the scars of Numeria’s violent not-so-distant past. Guards in shining mail patrol the towers’ parapets. Crowds of people move from stall to stall, jostle for better positioning, or clamor for the attention of the gold-and-silver robed Abadaran priests who pursue their duties with all the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Bargains are struck, deals are made, and the worship of coin continues on.
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"I thought the Tengu to be a wise race.. Hmm.. I may have heard wrong. Reaserch must be done after all this."
"Now now.. I'm sure he meant no offence.. Dwarfs have a knack for saying stuff like that without really thinking it through, we are not here to fight amongst ourselves." he sighs.. "Now if you can't control your tempers stay outside! I'll not have you ruining my buttering up to the priestess with bickering.."
Moving on Wizzy moves up to one of the guards.
"Excuse me Sir, I am looking for a one Brissa Klygvauther. Could you perhaps point in the direction to where I may speak with her?"
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Clandelve's smirk dissolves into a frown as Blanchbeak takes offense at his fellow dwarf's comments.
"Aam sure he only meant ye have feaithers an' a beak, nae tae cause offense," Clandelve says to Blanchbeak. "Lit me remin' ye of yer mandate tae cooperate wi' yer fellows...somethin' I've luckily nae hud tae say much."
Watching the two for a moment longer with a disapproving eye, he moves toward the temple.
"Noo tae win friends an' influence people. Ye two arenae daein' any ay th' talkin'."