Your mission begins in the Osirian city of An with a meeting at Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir’s office.
Balentiir inclines his head in welcome as he opens the door and welcomes everyone into a modest office. I’m glad you are on time—and with little to spare, he says as he checks outside and then closes the door. Your ship leaves soon, and I’ve taken care of the details. He places a neat stack of travel papers on the small desk and sits down.
I’m pleased that you volunteered to visit the remote monastery of Tar Kuata on the Society’s behalf. As you may already know, the Society seeks pieces of the Sky Key, a strange relic broken into multiple pieces by dwarves long ago. It seems one of the descendants may have found her way to Tar Kuata, and we believe the Ouat monks that also reside there still have a piece of the key. Travel there, meet with them, confirm our intelligence, and barter for the relic as needed. Do aim to be respectful; few Pathfinders have traveled to Tar Kuata, so you’ll need to earn the monks’ goodwill—and perhaps even pave the way for future collaboration.
To that end, I am sending you with this. Balentiir lifts a heavy bag and adds it to the desk. You may be familiar with bags able to hold more than seems possible, and this one is filled with grain. I understand Tar Kuata has had a poor harvest this year, and this should help you get off on the right foot in negotiations. Any questions?
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"Yesss! lotsss! detaaaaaylz! we needz detaaaylz! wHHaaatz the naaayme of the She-Dwwwaahrf who foundz her waaay there? wHHaaatz the faaayth of theez OOO-aaaht monkz? how maaany are there? aaand we'll needz a map. A good map!" says Skivven, sniffing to and fro and looking and touching whatever is on the desk.
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A statuesque human nun gives the jumpy little rat-man a careful sideways look as she stands in the corner of the room in a self-imposed stress position. Despite her fine Chelaxian features, her skin is literally black, as though it had been repeatedly marinated in coal or ash, and her scant monastic garments are generously complemented by wicked and cumbersome chains bearing Kuthite iconography.
"Please tell us what is known about the Ouat order," She asks Captain Balentiir in what might come across to some as a surprisingly serene voice.
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A tall, blue-skinned humanoid wearing a heavy fur coat and the bear mask hiding his face bows slightly.
"I am honored by the mission that will finally take me out to the strange lands that I have not visited in any of my past lives, Captain. And I am happy to hear that is the mission of peace, which is proper for how I strive to live this one. Is there anything you can tell us about the journey before us - do you have anything particular to say about the route, the means, the people?
An old and dented, but sturdy heavy wooden shield is strapped to his back, but apart from a cestus on the right hand, there are no weapons on this man's body.
"I would also love to hear all about the history of the monastery - who built it and why?"
The white mask turns towards the rest of the assembled group.
"Oh, I am sorry, going about the trivia I love. Do we have better questions to ask, maybe?"
Captain Balentiir seems caught off guard by Skivven's enthusiasm, Oh, we can certainly manage a map, but... he studies his notes, The "she-dwarf" was Logyra, one of the king's daughters. She's believed to have retired in Tar Kuata, then as now an Iroran monastery. He seems on firmer ground with Eirwen and Kali's questions.
The Ouat are a contemplative order of dwarven monks who renounced their racial identity to focus on self-perfection. Technically, they are distinct from the other monks in Tar Kuata, but the two groups work together so closely that it’s hard to tell the difference.
On the whole, both groups of monks are austere but polite, and I have already contacted them to let them know representatives are on the way. They’ll be very hospitable, yet earning their respect will no doubt involve proof of your worth. Like most who follow the Iroran faith, the monks of Tar Kuata no doubt value knowledge, discipline, and self-perfection.
As for the monastery itself, it was founded by the Iroran saint Narmek Tar Kuata in the Barrier Wall Mountains thousands of years ago. Though that region is commonly referred to as the Footprints of Rovagug, the monastery itself is considered the ost important Iroran site in all Osirion.
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A half orc, with unusually red hued skin, dressed mainly in garments of black and grey listens intently to the discussions. He presents himself as a well prepared traveller, donning a rounded mithral shield upon his back, a foray of daggers across his belt, and a handy haversack likely filled to the brim.
"How long would the travels fare us?" He asks.
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"Narmek Tar Kuata...come to think of it, I DO know that name. The Ouat must be the ones so famous for shaving their beards in rejection of their own Dwarvendom. Like any worthwhile monastery, Tar Kuata only initiates the worthy - but those who fail are still allowed to remain and serve in mundane trades."
The nun abruptly shifts from one painful-looking position to another, raking her chains across her bare skin until multiple shallow flesh wounds are opened up. A sanguine expression suddenly races across her face.
"Is there anything I'm forgetting?"
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A dark-haired woman in full plate armor and with a hand-and-a-half sword sheathed across her back along with a heavy shield greets Balentiir as he enters, then listens intently as he speaks of their mission. The paladin of Ragathiel knows precious little of the Sky Key, though she has heard rumors about it, here and there.
"I take it that these dwarven monks know of the nature of this Sky Key? It is not simply a trinket or a curiosity to them?"
Rhiannon listens to the others speak of the monastery, having little knowledge herself of the place besides the basics. When Skivven speaks of the area called The Footprints of Rovavug, she nods after taking a moment to parse out the rat-folk's thick accent. "I have heard the same. The cultists referred to themselves as the Doomsday Knights. They were heavily armored warriors able to wield divine magic. My understanding is that a group of Sarenrae’s faithful destroyed much of the cult, though some survivors escaped."
They are well aware of its importance, Rhiannon, that is why you will need to put your best foot forward. It will be a journey of several days to the monastery. Best prepare accordingly.
A thought strikes him, Oh, Eirwen and Kitani. I was given a letter for you both from Amenopheus; it's in with the rest of your travel papers.
Your pending visit to Tar Kuata has piqued my curiosity. When the Jeweled Sages fled Osirion to escape the Padishah blades, I believe some may have used the Kho-Rarne Pass, which is one of the few ways through the Shattered Range. It’s also tantalizingly close to Tar Kuata. Despite the monastery’s relative youth at the time, no doubt the faithful of Irori would have offered aid to fugitive scholars like the sages of ages past. Perhaps records of past contact may have survived the intervening millennia, granting us further insight into where the original sage jewels are now.
Regarding that matter, my colleague Tahonikepsu and I have carefully studied chambers deeper within the sages’ old sanctum. Our findings suggest at least one of the legendary gems remains within the borders of Ancient Osirion, and we are gradually refining our knowledge of its current whereabouts. Recovering another jewel would be cause for celebration, yet we must also consider who will step up and serve as one of the newest Jeweled Sages. Any candidate would have to balance the ambition to use the artifact’s power for good with the wisdom to understand the consequences.
Wouldn’t you agree that a school dedicated to self-perfection seems like an ideal place to look? I shall contact you later so that we might learn more of your findings. Ensure that your behavior communicates the same respect that we endeavor to earn.
-Amenopheus
After a tiring, days-long journey, you reach Tar Kuata in the morning. Perched at the base of a high mountain valley, the monastery, the tiny village to its west, and a series of terraced fields are sheltered from the harsh winds and weather.
At the base of a high mountain valley, the monastery of Tar Kuata perches atop a rocky outcropping that overlooks a tiny village and terraced fields. The steep cliffs to either side shelter the small structures from the wind, and a tall, thin spire towers over the settlement.
Just outside the gate you are greeted by a shaven-headed dwarf woman in ornate robes. Greetings to you all. I am Menkha Helg, leader of the Ouat. You are the Pathfinders, yes? We have been expecting you; I had feared you might have met with obstacles along your path. It gladdens my heart to see the road has not yet grown that perilous.
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"Greetings, wise Master Helg. The Winds have been kind to us and the journey was uneventful. I am sure that we won't encounter any obstacles in understanding one another, as well. After all, to bring decency and integrity to civilization is our quest. Wise scholars of your monastery surely can support us in that endeavor."
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Along the way, Kelumur briefs Kitani on the situation at hand in attempt to prepare her for the upcoming mission.
With a still face, the half-orc proceeds to greet the dwarven monk. He speaks relatively monotonous, showing little emotion in his voice. "We are indeed Pathfinders. Then you must know why we are here, we have come in good will and as my friend here has mentioned, hope to find understanding with each other."
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Rhiannon is glad to have reached their destination as well, for though the paladin is strong of body and spirit, still the heavy plate armor is quite a burden to wear along the unforgiving roads and trails that cut through the mountains. On arriving at the gate of the monastery, the weary holy warrior removes her helm, allowing her dark hair to fall across her burnished armor and she smiles at the female dwarf. "Your words of welcome are well-received, Menkha Helg. I am Rhiannon Moonwing, and as you have guessed we are here at the behest of the Pathfinder Society. We all look forward to your kind hospitality and hope to offer you much as we work together to benefit mutually over the next few days. In fact, we bear a gift that we hope you and yours will put to good use, as we understand that your recent harvest in this region was quite lean. It is our hope that the bag of grain we carry will supplement your fine monastery in this time of need."
The paladin removes the bag from her pack, offering it up to the dwarven leader of the Ouat. Again, she smiles as she offers. "We have been told that the bag is magical, and holds much more than appears. If you would direct us to where I might deliver it, so that it can be put to good use?"
Menkha smiles at the gift. I gladly accept this gift, she looks at you shrewdly, but aside from good will, better understanding, and grain, what brings you to our monastery.
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"And if you do indeed have it, we are to do our best to persuade you through whatever test you might think of that we are worthy of having it. We don't expect you to part freely with the artifacts of your ancestors, but giving it to us will serve a higher purpose - assembling the Sky Key that is currently incomplete."
Ah, I regret that Itephta, the head of the monastery, is currently busy, but he should be available to meet later in the afternoon; out of respect, I would prefer to avoid such negotiations until he is present.
To pass the time she takes you on a meandering tour of the monastery, and provides a simple lunch. The perceptive among you note that she very carefully observes your behavior during this time.
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Skivven makes sure the straps of his mask of stony demeanor are secure, and proceeds to carefully wash his paws with the greatest of cares, three times to be exact, and then bows once to the north and once to the south.
Lowering himself in a cross-legged sitting position, he starts droning a simple made-up mantra over and over in the Vudrani language that goes, "Thank you sky, thank you soil, thank you bees and thank you farmers."
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What is the critter thinking wearing a mask like that?
"Forgive our bluntness, we are adventurers and protectors at heart, and as such we envision results." The half-orc attempts to be tactful as a sign of respect, but is soon met with jeered looks.
In an effort to redeem himself, he attempts to recall customs of the area in order to be more appropriately behaved.
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Kali takes particular interest in the part of the tour that takes them into the monastery's catacombs - which, for one of the most ancient continually-operating monasteries in one of the world's most ancient nations, and one so singularly famed for its mortuary traditions, must be quite something to see - and impresses the abbess with her knowledge of embalming, interment, and so forth, and is even able to advise her on such matters as more efficient cataloging of the dead, methods of more sustainable storage, foreign innovations in embalming, and better preparing and situating them in the event they need to be reanimated and mustered in defense of the monastery.
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Eirwen joins in with the conversation wearing the mask too, but promptly removes it and holds it in his hand till the lunch is through.
"Forgive me for not parting with the mask for the whole time we interact, but I am sure you will understand somebody's need to follow the code and the tradition. This life of mine started in the lush jungles of Mwangi Expanse, where I had the luck of this life to encounter the teachings of Old-Mage Jatembe. I have accepted the role of the peacekeeper, mediating between people and nature, people and the spirit world, and different groups of people. And as it is traditional for the order, I wear this mask as a sign of allegiance. I've left the jungle to travel the world since then, but I still get pleasantly surprised by the richness of tradition wherever I go. And your monastery is simply fascinating."
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Rhiannon tries to exhibit her polished manners as they tour the monastery, asking questions that will not only further her own knowledge, but also in an attempt to make their host feel at ease and engaged. The paladin exhibits particular interest in the religious history of the Ouat, and shares her own experiences if Menkha seems interested. Rhiannon doesn't speak of the Sky Key, sensing that their host would rather avoid that topic for the moment.
Despite Kelumur's bluntness, and perhaps despite Kali's morbidity, the time passes pleasantly, and Menkha seems to have warmed up to you somewhat.
The meeting with Itephta takes place right after lunch, and you are finally able to deliver the grain-filled bag of holding and state your business in Tar Kuata to its leader.
Itephta is a young, mild-mannered Garundi man who listens attentively to your request, and then calmly asks Menkha about this relic.
The key is within our vaults, and if you so decide, we would be willing to part with it. She smiles at you beatifically, After all, despite all its value, in many ways it is yet another tether to ways we have long since put aside. These agents seem to me to be worthy caretakers of such a burden.
Itephta weighs her feedback for a moment, before turning to you once more. You seek something we would give freely, but the relic is one heavy with the weight of history. Just as I would not ask a neophyte to lift a boulder before he can lift a stone, I cannot in good conscience burden you with this bauble without knowing your capabilities.
When our students request greater responsibilities or greater challenges, we first ensure that they have mastered what they have learned before. I propose you experience the same courtesy I would extend to a student by undergoing a small portion of our training. It shall strengthen your body for the return journey and prepare your mind to weather your future trials.
Is this amenable to you?
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"There is wisdom in your words, I would expect nothing less than a proper test of our ability." Eirwen bows slightly. "If we will get the idea of your own tempering regiment - that is even better. Will let us, in turn, understand whether you'd want to try yourself with the power of being our allies."
The young master smiles, Excellent. I have other business to attend to at the moment, but I have asked one of our brothers to serve as your guide, instructor, and evaluator.
A Garundi man with sun-weathered features traced with a network of wrinkles, smiles at you kindly from underneath a shapeless felt cap.
Good day to you. I am Aeotsep; I hope that what you see and learn today will be of service to you, even if this lifestyle is not the path you will walk henceforth.
With a fluidity and economy of motion that belies his years, Aeotsep leads you to a study room. It's decorated rather sparsely; there are several bookshelves, a small table, and a lectern bearing an open book.
Please wait here for a short while. Your trials will require time for preparation.
Aeotsep smiles somewhat enigmatically, Perception can be a great boon, Eirwen, but no lesson learned by rote can replace one earned through your own growth.
I shall return directly.
With that, he departs.
The air thrums with the sudden magical energies that a room of suddenly nervous Pathfinfers tend to unleash, but no threat makes itself immediately apparent.
The book is a copy of Unbinding the Fetters, which, going by the passage it's open to, is a particularly dense work discussing both the creation of the world and the pursuit of self perfection.