Dotted.
Dot.
Krupt looks around and sniffs in ill-disguised disgust.
"Dot."
Onboard the trade ship, Lady Velora, from Absalom to Magnimar you all make acquaintance with one another. You have a full day worth of travel left before arriving in the city of monuments. You aren’t clear on all the details but you have all been assembled by the Society for an extended mission in the region. As with any other Society mission you are expected to meet your new companions for the mission and ensure you are properly prepared. You were instructed, that upon your arrival in Magnimar, to make your way to Heidmarch manor and report for duty, upon which you will receive further details on your assignment. Sheila Heidmarch will be your Venture Captain for the duration of the mission and you will report to her until she otherwise releases you.
It is early morning, the winds are with you and you are making good time in your trip. The sea air is warm and refreshing as you continue your journey. The ship’s crew tend to their duties mainly leaving your group alone unless asked for direct assistance. As is common with travel as a Pathfinder you have hitched a ride with one of the Society’s contacts who was already making the trip for business.
Mach looks out across the water, trying not to look down. If he had known how much sailing would have been involved in becoming a Pathfinder, he would have likely opted for something else.
Still, no reason to complain now. At least he could endure this with others. The pretty boy sorcerer Quintus (with weak-looking arms, he couldn't help but notice) looked personable enough, and evidently fancied himself a bit of a ladies' man. The druidess Nimt sparked something in his blood, caused it to itch under his skin. There was something off about her... was she a tiefling, too?
Probably not, since the Chelaxian Petronicus didn't afford her the same disdain he did for him. Or perhaps he was trying to make a good impression on her, in his unique Chelish way. Who knew?
Better yet, who cares?
Lastly, the Mwangi mage, Um'bala. Alliteration aside, Mach noticed that the man was constantly uneasy around him. Mach didn't think much of it--lots of people were like that around him. But he did notice that Um'bala was uncomfortable around Nimt as well.
Mach could feel some empathy for Um'bala's discomfort, if only because he was feeling seasick himself. He didn't think it was possible for him to be any paler than usual, but as it turns out, it was.
Krupt hadn't been able to believe that the Pathfinder Society was willing to send him all the way to Absalom and back, just to complete a little training. He had, of course, balked at first, and played it off as a huge imposition, barely able to contain his excitement.
He'd spent every free moment exploring the City at the Center of the World, visiting its many churches and temples and taking in a few matches at the Irorium. They didn't go in for bloodsports there, it seemed, not like at home, but perhaps that wasn't all for the worst. After all, a warrior could actually make a career as a gladiator, and not have to worry about getting stabbed in the kidneys every other day.
He also took in the famous Clockwork Cathedral, marvelling at its intricate construction.
The Starstone Cathedral had been the most impressive of all. Krupt gazed at its tall spire, imagining what it must have been like for Norgorber, Cayden Cailean, and Iomedae to walk in as mortals and walk out as gods.
The journey back had thankfully been uneventful. He had made a quick trip to the Chelish Office of Persons when they had docked for supplies in Corentyn, just as any law-abiding Chelish citizen would do, informing them of his planned indefinite absence from the fatherland. The clerk had barely looked up when he displayed his papers, but perhaps the Krupt name did not carry the same weight here as it did in the cosmopolitan northwest.
Krupt filled the time on the final leg to Magnimar with dice games with the Valdemar lad. The scoundrel had taken him for most of his gold rolling the bones, but at least had the courtesy of letting him win most of it back. He'd also had a few discussions with the Mwangi wizard. He knew their magic traditions were the oldest of the Inner Sea region, and as it turned out, he also shared Krupt's interest in the history of Thassilon. The transmuter could even read their strange, runic alphabet, a skill that would certainly come in useful in Varisia.
Krupt had so far successfully avoided talking to the fiendborn and the angelspawn. Such creatures needed to understand that it was their duty to serve humanity. As a child of Cheliax, Krupt knew that devils and angels had their place, but to breed with them was an abomination that could not be encouraged.
Quintus enjoyed the boat ride back to civilization. He still didn't particularly like coming back to Magnimar, but maybe some people would remember his family, and that could always be used.
Finding little to do but speak to sailors and try to win some of their money Quintus soon became bored, and started thinking about what he would do when he got back to the city. Deciding what to do he began to listen to the surface emotions of his bird.
Still nothing, but rage. Maybe I should see if that pretty druidess can fix him? No, bad idea, no need to offend her ears with the verbal trash that the thrush speaks.
Quintus ignored the little troublemaker and instead focused on examing his new companions. He didn't know how they would fair in a fight, but he hoped they would do well.
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Nimt took pity on the seasick rogue and offered him some tips to alleviate seasickness."Damnit, I'm out of ginger. I'll need to get a fresh supply in Absalom."Out of politeness, she stayed away from the Mwangi mage and the Chelaxian gentlemen, which didn't seem to like her company.
To alleviate her boredom, she casts a Continual Flame to look at (on a sling bullet).
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If there was one thing that Um’bala disliked about the Society, it was sea travel. He had no issues with long journeys across land, or the one trip he took by teleporting from the Grand Lodge to the Land of the Linnorm Kings, but there was something about the rolling of the boat that always sent him to the rails. The sailors were taking bets amongst themselves to see how long he could keep down his chow after meals, he was sure of it.
The fact that the Grand Lodge was located on an island at the center of the Inner Sea was not lost upon him.
It was at one of his many rail-side visits that the wizard met Mach. He spied the man out of the corner of his eye while he was leaning over the side, and made a quip about not expecting to see someone else at the rail paler than he. Then he saw the man’s appearance, and his throat tightened in fear. He’d seen creatures like Mach walking the streets of the city in his induced vision. They would hunt in the dark places, and pull slaves into the alleyways to feed upon them…or worse. He made a nervous introduction, and found some way to excuse himself from the conversation.
Nimt found him shortly thereafter, checking up on him after throwing up one too many meals. She too was paleskinned, but where Mach’s albinism gave him a terrible pallor, hers only accentuated an unearthly beauty. While the concept of the Heavenly host was far less frightening than the slavering demonic hordes, Um’bala had conceptual problems with them as well. After all, if the deities of Good looked down upon the world and interfered as often as Hell and the Abyss did, wouldn’t they find great faults in just about everyone? Wouldn’t we be judged by exacting standards, and be found wanting? After all, if it was easy to be Good in the eyes of Heaven, then why were there so few paladins, and so many more ex-paladins? No, Heaven was just as terrifying a prospect as Hell – it just had better merchants hawking its wares. He made some polite refusal of her herbal remedies, and suffered in silence.
He found an immediate rapport with the Chelaxian member of their team, Petronicus Krupt. Both were students of history, though with vastly different subject studies. He was specialized in Thassilonian ruins, while Um’bala had spent most of his time generalizing on the Garundi continent, and so they traded stories back and forth. He too had issues with Nimt and Mach, but Krupt’s was due to the typical superiority complex that most Chelaxians embody, rather than the real and present danger that Um’bala recognized the two to represent. While he would have liked to admonish the Chelaxian for his intolerance, he realized he couldn’t practice the acceptance he would have been preaching, and instead remained silent. Krupt seemed both confused and intrigued that the wizard could speak Thassilonian as fluently as he, and remain so ignorant on most of the broad points, but Um’bala had managed to deflect these questions for now.
Finally, there was Quintus Valdemar, who was a cipher. The thrush tattoo almost seemed lifelike, and Um’bala assumed he worked some sort of magic, due to his lack of armor. He couldn’t quite fit Quintus into a nice, ordered spot in his hierarchy of the world, so he remained an outlier, at least for now. He’d resort later, once he’d spent some time getting to know the man.
Mach gratefully accepts Nimt's advice on combating seasickness. Part of him can't help but note the irony: the person he gets along with the most so far is the one who makes his blood seethe with disgust.
Of course, as far as he was concerned, his blood could go f**k itself with a rusty nail.
"Curious, Ms. Heidmarch... is it your mother or some other relative sending for us? Or is it a different sort of Heidmarch altogether?" He asks, searching for something, anything, to talk about to keep his mind off the rocking of the ship... back and forth, back and forth, back and--
NONONONONONONOSTOPITPLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THE SAVORED STING
He shakes his head.
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Several days into the trip, towards evening, Um'bala notices Nimt coming on deck. She stops for a few moments, withdraws a stone from her pouch, and concentrates. It begins glowing bright and white, burning with a pure white flame. The Mwangi goes ashen as she does, freezing for a moment. But only for a moment - when he realizes the magic she's called upon, he loudly sighs in relief, dabbing away the sweat from his damp forehead. "I thought you might burn the whole ship down," he says quickly. "Not that you would do such a thing. In fact, I don't know why anyone would do that. Forget I said anything. I'm rambling now." He fidgets as he speaks, and quickly moves to the ship's stern.
Quintus looks over at the exchange between Um'bala and Nimt after the Continual Flame, and he actually seemingly concerned for Um'bala when he seems put out because of the small flame. Deciding that Um'bala has had some past problem with fire Quintus resolves to get the flame out of Um'bala's way. Walking up to Nimt, Quintus does a small flair and reveals a deck of cards he has.
"Milady, why don't you ignore that little flame for right now, and instead join me for a game of cards? It is a wonderful way to spend the time, and before you know it we will be on our way to Magnimar. You should join us as well Mach as it would be more fun with three of us than just two."
Krupt, on the far side of the boat from the conversation, does a poor job at pretending not to listen.
The captain notifies you all that you should be docking in Magnimar within the next few hours if the winds continue to stay with the ship.
Mach is quite relieved to hear that the ship will be making port in Magnimar in a few hours.
"Believe me, Quint, I'd LOVE to get in on cards..." Mach starts before stifling another retch. "...but I'd rather not. I'd puke all over the place and possibly damn Petronicus to an eternity of pain & misery."
Which sounds like fun, but isn't. Especially when you can't keep down your lunch.
"I think I'll stay up here and contemplate the decisions I made that led to me getting on a ship."
Quintus waves over at Krupt.
"If you wish to join us then come along. The more the merrier as I always say."
And the more people, the bigger slice I can steal without being noticed.
Krupt waves off the sorcerer. "We are approaching land. I will keep a lookout for pirates." Even Krupt does not seem to believe this halfhearted lie and stares off into the distance.
-Posted with Wayfinder
As you close in on the city of Magnimar the first sight you see is the Irespan. The colossus bridge stretches out into the bay high above the water and the numerous boats below. As you get closer the Avensoar comes into sight, shadowed by the Irespan and the Seacleft it still stands above all of Magnimar. The ship navigates the harbor docking in the Dockway district.
As you disembark, you find a lithe human woman waiting for you, a wayfinder hanging from her neck. She holds a single folded, sealed paper in one hand ”Welcome!” She looks each of you over as if mentally verifying who you are before continuing ”I’m glad you arrived safely. I have a missive here from Mrs. Heidmarch for you.”
She holds the papers out to whoever will take it.
I am Sheila Heidmarch, Venture Captain of the newest Pathfinder Society lodge—and the only such lodge in Varisia at this time. You have come to my attention as someone who possesses a certain amount of skills and interests that make you an excellent addition to a highly specialized team I’m putting together for a matter of grave import, not only to the Society, but to Varisia as a whole. Please report to Heidmarch Manor—you will be compensated for your visit, but that reward will pale in light of the riches that await you should we come to an agreement on my proposition to you. I look forward to meeting you soon!
—Sheila Heidmarch
Mach staggers off the boat, turning back and giving the vessel two rude gestures, one for each hand.
"F**k you, you soulless, shoddy, sham of a ship." He says. He's apparently prone to alliteration in times of stress.
He turns back to the lady on the dock. He takes the missive & reads it through. It's enough to brighten his mood considerably.
He shows the rest of the team the letter.
"Well, shall we, ladies & gentlemen?"
Heidmarch, Heidmarch, now where have I heard that name before?
Quintus chuckles at Mach's discomfort with the boat.
"Don't get so angry at the boat. It's not its fault that you have seasickness."
Quintus still smiling walks over to the lady with the wayfinder.
"May I just say that this day has become much better with the addition of such a lovely lady like yourself. It makes me positively gleeful to know that you cared about my health enough to see me when I arrived. Dare, I ask the name of such a beauty?"
Sheesh, he's really itching for a lay, isn't he? Mach thinks as he watches Quintus chat up their contact.
"Hey, Quint, it'd be more polite if you introduced yourself first, you know." Mach says, walking next to him.
"Anyway, I'm Mach Star. He's Quintus Valdemar. Who might you be?"
Krupt rolls his eyes at Valdemar's attempt at flattery, and taps his foot against the dock with impatience. "Valdemar, if you do this with every comely female we meet, it will take us all day to get to the Lodge."
"Would that be such a bad thing? If we are meeting so many comely women before we reach the lodge then isn't our job already looking better? I must say that any day without complimenting a woman on her beauty is a day wasted. On the other hand, I can see that being a gentleman is ignored by some in the favor of rudness. It truly is a sad world that we live in when a man cannot compliment a lady without receiving derision from his fellows, but I can see that you will not be swayed by my words, so let us be off."
Quintus offers an apologetic bow to the woman.
"I am afraid that I must be going, but by that wayfinder on your neck might I assume that we will be in the same lodge? Such an event could only be the fate of the gods, so I bid you farewell until next time fate has us meet milady."
Krupt shakes his head at Valdemar's ability to conjure an infinite amount of words out of a single sentence and begins following the druid to the lodge.
Mach follows, his gait evening out the further away he gets from the ship.
The woman just stands there a little shocked at the compliment and doesn't regain her composure until everyone begins to walk off, she shrugs and goes on her way.
Nimt has no issues leading you all to Heidmarch manor, or the Varisian Pathfinder Lodge depending on who you talk to. Heidmarch Manor is located in the Alabaster District of Magnimar, not far from the city’s easternmost gate. The manor grounds are surrounded by a stone wall, but the front gate hangs open. When you arrive, you are asked to wait in the foyer, as Sheila Heidmarch is finishing up a meeting with an unexpected visitor.
Quintus quietly sits in the foyer making some random lights appear and dance around his fingers.
Mach takes a seat in an available chair, sighing in relief. Never before has he felt so thankful for stable ground.
He looks over at Nimt. "So, you said your aunt ran this? Mind if I ask what sort of woman she is?"
Krupt looks around, muttering about the declining nature of nobility the farther one travels from the Inner Sea. "Really, they could have put up some interesting tapestries or something. Something to draw the eye from those ghastly curtains. That color hasn't been in style since Abrogail I."
Nimt's impertinence shocks Krupt so much, that his clever retort dies in his throat. He simply "harumpfs" a few times and walks over to the far side of the room to be unhappy about something else.
After a short time of waiting two women come into the room. The first, has an intricate dress of deep blues and greens. She has fair skin, and raven black hair, held back with a simple, yet fashionable tiara. The second is an attractive half-elven woman dressed in leather armor and armed with a distinctive-looking mithral-and-redwood aklys and a bastard sword both currently sheathed and hanging from her belt.
The woman leading sees Nimt and smiles and moment, briefly bowing her head in greeting before looking the rest of you over. "Greetings, for those of you who don't already know me. I am Sheila Heidmarch." She does a very traditional, Korvosian curtsey before motioning to the half-elf "This is Koriah Azmeran, just returned from an expedition to the Darklands below Varisia, having successfully scouted out a new route down to Nar-Voth from the Fogscar Mountains. Koriah has returned with a surprising number of Thassilonian artifacts from this expedition, and I must spend a few more moments discussing the implications of this discovery with her. I apologize for the further delay." She pauses for a moment as if in thought. She then asks "Will you all please accompany me into the library?." Before waiting for a response she begins to walk out of the room, Koriah following.
Quintus immediately straightens up, and nods.
"Of course it would be my pleasure milady."
Quintus follows close behind the two women to the library to hear what they have to say next.
Mach follows, looking all around the manor.
Man, I never got to visit anywhere like this before. At least, not in broad daylight. And never when anyone else was home.
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Um'bala was silent after they disembarked the ship that had borne them from Absalom. He was still a bit green from the voyage, and the world seemed to still rock back and forth for some time even after they stepped foot on solid ground. He followed the group to Heidmarch manor, and only after some time in the manor's foyer did he finally feel human again.
"It's quite alright, Lady Heidmarch," he says with his soft tenor voice, giving a nod to the half-elf that joined her. His mood brightens as she says the word 'library,' and the Mwangi mage follows the two women.
Krupt bows courteously as Lady Heidmarch enters the room and politely listens to her speech. His ears prick up when he hears mention of Thassilon, and eagerly follows her into the library. He tries to recall anything he has read about caverns beneath the Fogscar Mountains.
Coming into the other room this most definitely serves as a library and study. The walls are lined with bookshelves, while several tables in the middle of the room are heaped with scrolls and books. One table in the center, however, supports only a single object — an ornate cubical stone coffer covered with Thassilonian runes. Sheila motions toward the table "Please have a seat."
After you get situatied she continues "Again, I apologize for the delay, as I must conclude my business with Pathfinder Azmeren before we meet. In the meantime, though, I thought you could help us with another minor issue. This stone coffer is an ancient Thassilonian puzzle, a cunning feat of magical engineering known as a paradox box. As you’ll see from even a casual investigation, what appear to be seams on the sides are only shallow grooves—there’s no obvious way to open the thing. Each paradox box has its own secret method of being opened. Essentially, a paradox box substitutes hidden catches and magical triggers for a lock. Given time, anyone clever enough could figure out how to open a paradox box, just as given time, a locksmith can open any lock. This particular box was among those items recovered by Koriah — the scrolls next to the box are her preliminary notes on possible triggers or methods of opening it, but she’s not yet had a chance to sit down and properly investigate the thing. So... why don’t you put your heads together and see if you can’t do that for me? Even if the box is empty, as I suspect it probably is, knowing the method of opening it makes it a valuable find anyway. I’ll return shortly, and I hope to see that box open! Think of this as an audition, if you will — because the actual task I want to speak to you about soon will require as much wit as it will brawn!”
She nods to you all and then begins to walk out of the room, Koriah following behind.
Quintus will nod and begin to go through the notes of possible trigger methods.
Another of Koriah’s scrolls lists a few other observations — the most in depth being that five of the box’s faces are identical, but on one face, several additional runes appear. These runes spell out the word “CRUEL.” Koriah has deduced that this word is somehow linked to the box’s mystery. She’s also noted that each of the individual runes in the word can be reorganized by touching two runes at once—doing so causes the two touched runes to exchange places for an hour before reverting to their original spelling of “CRUEL.”
"Valdemar, why don't you read those notes out for all of us, instead of hogging them all to yourself. This is a TEAM BUILDING exercise, is it not?" The way Krupt pronounces "team building" makes it sound more like "canine fecal deposit".
Bakrakhan, Bakrakhan, wasn't that the Thassilonian realm of Wrath?
Quintus chuckles at Krupt, and shows the paper to everyone.
"Oh didn't you know? I obviously want to hog the spotlight for solving this little problem. The way I see it we have to make the word cruel to turn into a word that is kind instead of wrathful. But that's just my opinion I could be wrong of course."