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He carries the typical 1/2 Orc's greataxe. Other than that, Nevedno has made an obvious attempt to keep the rest of his gear and clothing as nondescript as possible. In reasonable physical condition, he does not appear to be superlative in any physical characteristic. Though he stands with a quiet confidence that seems to speak certain strength of personality.
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He stares out into the water over the stern of the ship, cursing under his breath. Weeks of meticulous planning all ruined by one stupid guard. The Barons gem collection should have been split up and sold by now. Instead I’m back on this boat with bruised ribs and a bruised ego. I guess at least I still have my gear…… and my freedom, It could have been worse, instead of handing me over they just gave me a beating and threw me out onto the street, there has to be a better way to make my fortune than this!
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Lynn spent her time during the ship ride on the top of the deck taking in the sea air and assisting the crew with various duties where they needed help, usually helping with the rigging, she knew from experience extra help could never hurt.
This adventure she was wearing her breathable baggy clothing used for when she traveled into hot areas. Seemed she'd been warned before hand not to keep her flowing dress of o-so-many colors; instead settling for a drab gray and blue accents a long scarf ready to wrap over her head and face. The woman also seemed to forgo her many charms and beads this time around, meaning she clinked much less than usual. When she spotted the port on the horizon the sun-kissed woman hollered for the rest of the pathfinders.
"We're Here! Get your things and make sure it's all ready to move out. If this is anything like Sothis we'll want to get to where we need as soon as possible." She looked to the sun and reached for one of her two waterskins taking a large drink from it.
Before departing the Grand Lodge, you were given two letters. One, a letter of introduction from Esmayl ibn Qaradi, the second, a letter of instructions:
"Pathfinders,
I regret that business has forced me away from the lodge, and so I must settle for a simple letter instead of providing you with a proper greeting.
"An unusual pair of cults—The White Feather and the Roidirans—has taken root in the Qadiran mining town of Qaharid. The White Feather are ascetics who believe enlightenment comes from giving away all worldly possessions and status, while the Roidirans follow the goddess Roidira, the Dark Sister of Knowledge. To Roidirans, nothing matters more than following their goddess’ example and rejecting established wisdom to uncover universal truth. Recently, Roidirans have been returning from forays outside of Qaharid in the throes of grief and causing quite a few disturbances. Whatever knowledge the Roidirans have found in their pilgrimage must be significant, and so I’m asking you to investigate it further.
"This mission requires poking your noses in affairs that Qadirans might deem embarrassing. For that you’ll need a properly powerful patron, and one well-versed in matters of faith. No patron would be better for this situation than High Priestess Amal al-Sahba, who not only oversees Sarenrite activities in all Maharev, but has the ear of the satrap himself as one of the exalted Peerless—his handpicked council of elite advisors. If anyone can help you, she can. When you meet with the high
priestess, be sure to put your best effort into impressing her. Represent yourselves well, and she could prove a powerful ally in the future.
"I’ve enclosed a sealed letter of recommendation, but it won’t be enough to just go up to al-Sahba and hand her the letter; she’s a busy woman with a province to run. Fortunately, by the time you arrive, there will be an ongoing festival celebrating the invincibility of the sun and Sarenrae’s eternal light. Like most religious festivals, it is open to foreigners; perhaps you can get her attention there.
"If you can’t reach her directly, however, try her wife, Lorah Meriwether. She’s not quite at her spouse’s level of prestige, but she heads a local trading guild, has plenty of connections, and—of course—has direct access to al-Sahba. On top of all that, she’s foreign, and may be more sympathetic to your situation. If your attempts to gain the high priestess’s attention at the festival fail, find Meriwether during her office hours in the Customs House and talk to her.
"When you have finished your business in Qaharid, I invite you to join me for a full-course dinner at the Katheer Lodge.
I look forward to hearing your report over spiced cake and tea.
May Shade Never Be Far,
Venture-Captain Esmayl ibn Qaradi"
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Eamon reads the letter quietly trying to conceal the slight movement of his lips as he reads the beautiful hand writing of Captain Esmayl bin Qaradi. When he is through, he hands the letter to a female agent that went by the name Lynn. What do you think? Seems a pretty strait forward diplomatic mission to me... Eamon furrows his brow trying to recall any information at all about the two cults. Frustrated and disappointed he reluctantly confesses; I'm afraid I don't know anything about these fringe cults the Venture Captain speaks of...Have you heard of either of these groups before. Eamon first looks to Lynn, but allows his eyes to scan the reaction of his other companions.
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Abraxi pads into the meeting room, nods to Eamon, then finds a chair to sit in. Pulling another chair close, he outs his feet up and crossed his arms behind his head.
Waiting for Eamon to read the letter, Abraxi closes his eyes and waits. Upon the man's statement, he opens one eye a slit. "Diplomatic mission?" He queries, then let's out a heavy sigh.
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clearly not the group's night for religion XD
"I don't know anything of those two factions, guess i should have read up on this area before we got this mission. Usually i'm the go too member for these sort of things." She let out a short chuckle then read the letter herself, "Maybe we could make ourselves known during this festival though, we're an interesting looking bunch. Perhaps we could put on a show, or tell tales, or show off our skills in some competitions? I'm not sure what Qaharidian tradition is like."
Drorlud isn't familiar with either of the small sects, but is certainly able to fill in some more of the blanks. The Sunwrought Festival is a celebration of the longest day of the year as well as the triumph of Sarenrae's light over darkness, particularly Rovagug; depictions of that battle are considered particularly important to the festival. It is mostly confined to the Temple Ward.
As for Amal al-Sahba, she's incredibly well regarded. While being a High Priestess would normally be quite enough in Qadira, in Qaharid, the church and state are practically one, and her temple is the heart and soul of the city.
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As your ship arrives, you see Qaharid, the Turquoise City, spreading out from its docks at the vertex of the Maharev and Meraz Rivers, its forest of minarets and spires proudly flaunting the lustrous copper mined from the surrounding hills. Though far from the cosmopolitan coasts, the city rises from its perch with an eagle’s pride that sports every color of the rainbow, as though it were itself a district of the grand metropolis of Katheer.
Fifty thousand souls call the city home, and it shows. People of every description hustle through the docks, and a cacophony of accents and languages mingle with the music of charming street buskers. A rich market street lined with bright awnings and tents leads straight from the docks to the customs house, beyond which rise the golden spires of the Sarenite temple. No doubt the prospective patron in Venture-Captain Esmayl ibn Qaradi’s letter might be found there in the Temple Ward.
Freshly painted signs announce, in several languages, the entrance to Coppersmith Lane, a place whose workaday name belies the expensive temptations that beckon to passersby from its countless tables and stalls. Here and there, almost like blank spaces in the crowd, are the unadorned, crisp white cloaks and shifts of White Feather adherents.
Children dressed as Sarenrae and her paladins run laughing through the streets playing little war games, a smiling priestess doles out blessings to passersby, cheerfully intoning, The dawn brings new light! with each, while glittering devices celebrating the goddess dangle from most stalls. Buntings and banners announce the annual solstice festival, which is no doubt contributing to the religious color flooding the streets.
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"We should probably go and explore the area, see if we can work out where the Priestess is." after a moments pause and a quick scan of the area "Is it really necessary for there to be this many guards? seems a little excessive if you ask me, we should watch our backs, some of those guards look pretty heavy duty, not the normal city watch!"
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"Most guards are just waiting for an excuse to display what little power they have, I also have found that its best avoid them. Doesn't help if you insinuate they are compensating for other deficiencies in their life, past experience and all... " contributes Stonelance with a small smirk as if remembering something
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[dice=Perception]1d20+7
"Most guards are just waiting for an excuse to display what little power they have, I also have found that its best avoid them. Doesn't help if you insinuate they are compensating for other deficiencies in their life, past experience and all... " contributes Stonelance with a small smirk as if remembering something
Eamon looks scandalized at Stonelance's comment. They may not be the Inheritor's chosen, but they are the rightful and lawful stewards of these lands. *sniff*... I suggest you show some respect to them.... our we may find ourselves less than welcome....*hmph!* Eamon finishes by presenting a challenging stare at the audacious companion.
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Any of you who wish may join me in a seance to ask for the spirits blessings this day. Nevedno leads an hour long seance for any who choose to participate.
1) gain +2 spell damage of same type
2) gain +2 non-spell damage
3) gain +1 CMD
4) gain +2 damage for healing spells
5) gain +1 to one skill and counts as class skill
I am taking a +1 on diplomacy
Once off the ship, Nevedno struts like a lord in his domain. Actively trying to draw all attention to himself. The effect is somewhat spoiled by the common drab traveler's clothing he wears.
To a priestess, What news of the day and festival? Where are the most official celebrations to be held? Anything in particular of which we should be wary?
To a paladin guard, I notice an unusually large number of you present. Is there a problem we should know about? Are the Roidirans or White Feathers causing troubles?
To a white feather, What news of the city and festival? I notice an unusually large number of you present. Are the Roidirans causing troubles?
Nevedno mainly receives cheerful greetings in Taldane, directions to the Temple Ward, and offers of fine food and jewelry as he walks around in search of information.
The White Feather seems perplexed that Nevedno would ask him about the Roidirans, and explains that there are so many of the white feathers about Because many cannot find the true path to walk without seeing fellow travelers already upon it - especially in the midst of frivolity and gluttony.
The Paladin seems slightly evasive as she explains, Nothing to concern yourself over, sir. Sarenrae's blessing be upon you.
It’s noontide on the longest day of the year, and yet the dry heat has done nothing to still the clamor of religious devotion in the Temple Ward. For all the schisms and debates within the Qadiran Sarenite church, today they are all one in her service. Unfolding on a canopied stage is the final scene of the Qadiran ballet, “The Dance of the Golden Veils,” depicting the remarkable triumph of Sarenite paladins against impossible odds, all to the melismatic strains of an orchestra performing beneath a sea of colorful parasols.
In the opposite corner of the square lies a large, inert machine some 30 feet in height depicting the evil god Rovagug and a worried priest pacing around it. A sign saying “See Sarenrae defeat the mighty Rovagug! Noon Today!” sits beside it, but it is past noon, the ballet is about to end, and there are no actors in sight to operate the clockwork monstrosity.
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Lynn followed the group, "Well there are a large amount now that you point it out, wonder if there's gonna be someone special showing up. Oooh what if it's a prince? That'd be neat wouldn't it?" She bounced on her feet as they wandered through the bizarre bazaar, she'd clap her hands as they passed by any musical performers. When they moved towards the ending of the play she almost squealed with glee and bound towards it but stayed far enough as to not bother any of those watching. She expected the end of the show to be soon but looked over to see the priest pacing back and forth her look darkened a bit. Then inspiration hit her, and she turned back to her companions with a smile, "I think we found how we can impress our lady. Driving that!" And she pointed to the giant machine.
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Eamon is annoyed with the offer to join the seance. Thought I left this occult Tom foolery behind me in Korsovo! Why does the society insist on recruiting these outsiders calling upon strange and unpredictable spirits of the dead! My mother and her Harrow deck friends would fit right in this crowd while scoffing at me! *frking* *Frack*! # * ^%!! Why does everything have to be so complicated! Can't I just be assigned a normal mission with normal agents? Eamon reaches reassuringly for his Holy symbol of Iomedea and fumbles for it vainly.
*huh*! What the frck #! My Holy symbol someone's stolen it! Eamon is suddenly aware of dozens of strange eyes on him. We've only just walked down the dock and then this street. Someone must have taken it on the voyage over here! How could I have let it be taken from me! Looking at his companions in desperation Eamon blurts, I need to find a temple or shrine to Iomedea..I need to ask for the Inheritor's forgiveness and beg the local clergy for a replacement of Her Holy Image. Eamon looks at his companions with pleading eyes. Failing finding a temple or shrine dedicated to Iomedea, I'll at least need to visit a market where religious fetishes are sold. Eamon eyes Nevedno warily and adds, Some of us, call on living spirits and Gods to aid us....it's only proper I revere her with the symbol of her vigilance and faith.. How could you be so careless Eamon! On a boat full of scallywags and scoundrels you let your guard down! Probably the second story man the society stuck us with has it in his pack now. It will be in some pawn shop by tomorrow afternoon no doubt! The dead speaker probably put him up to it! Eamon's eyes narrow as his gaze crosses Nevedno and Stonelance.
Eamon's able to relatively quickly find a replacement symbol of Iomedae. Though the Inheritor certainly holds no primacy here, she is still viewed as a worthy ally to Sarenrae. They do charge him an extra two silver for it though.
The pacing priest jerks his head at Lynn's proclamation, Really? Dawnflower be praised! I don't suppose any of you have any stage experience? Or at least liturgical experience?
No matter. The show must go on, right?
If someone would only tell that to the hungover louts who were contracted to manage this!
It's really very simple. One of you will take the role of Sarenrae... He eyes the rest of the group a little skeptically.
Perhaps you, my lady? he asks Lynn. Your task will be to avoid Rovagug's flailing strikes, but really to charm our audience. After all, Sarenrae must be a beacon of inspiration, no?
Now for our Rovagug we need someone skilled at creating unsettling movements, or at least someone truly fearsome. The rest of you can help our Rovagug by manning some of the legs.
He looks at you all expectantly, Please?
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Lynn's eyes almost burst with excitement, "Yes, yes, YES! This is right up my alley of experience, do you happen to have a depiction of Sarenrae as she is to be in this battle i can mimic it perfectly if you wish. Ooooh yes this is going to be great we can sing and dance and do great things today."
Lynn would take a minute and if shown a depiction of Sarenrae she'd use her abilities to shift into that exact form clothing and all though it was just an illusion it would hold up excellently until someone actually tried to touch her. She'd also summon up wisps of light for a moment before pulling them into herself and causing her form to glow with a golden yellow radiance. When called to the stage she'd do her best to please the crowd in as many ways as possible.
"Today we Commemorate the victory over the dreaded beast Rovagug! I wish you all to celebrate in Sarenrae's name, but first, bear witness to the tale about to unfold! Cheer our brave and valiant knights onward as they face the beast, so they might strike it down quickly, and boo at the demon to distract it and it's foul attacks! She looked to the maybe pretend paladins, "To arms!"
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Abraxi frowns as his new companions volunteer the group for an acting job. Crossing his arms, he listens to "job" requirement, and shakes his head. Finally, grudgingly, he offers. "I could probably portray Rovagug, I'd think scary enough." He give a very grin to his new companions. "Who knows, Rovagug might be a distant relative of mine....."
Abraxi grimaced, then clambers into the device and begin to channel his inner Beast.
The performance is received in complete stillness. More and more people crowd around to watch as you dance and mark the devotions of Sarenrae against the unnatural horror of Rovagug.
As you finish that silence stretches for a long moment, but then the crowd bursts into thunderous applause!
I felt like I was really there! Surely the Goddess herself is among us! cries out one member of the crowd, and the High Priestess herself parts the growing throng of fans like so much water.
If clergy were meant to be the embodiment of their deity, then this woman is nearly a living effigy of Sarenrae, her gold and white vestments aflame with vitality that seems to radiate from her dark, elegantly coiffured hair via the golden pins and combs that hold it all in place. Her deep bronze features are elegantly made up, kohl framing an already relentless brown-eyed stare over high cheekbones; her voice is a tightly controlled flame of passion.
Calling you all to stand forth to be recognized, the carefully composed high cleric begins gushing about how moved she was.
We are truly blessed to have you among us this day. Though strangers to our land, you have brought new life to the truth that just as the sun rises every morning to put an end to the night, so shall evil ever retreat in the face of the righteous!
The crowd roars again, all but forcing you to take an extra bow or three.
When you finally escape from the stage, Amal al-Sabah, the High Priestess, has a few more words for you, It’s not often our foreign guests are quite so bold. Or lucky. But boldness and just a little luckiness in the name of the Dawnflower go a long way, I find. I trust, however, this wasn’t done entirely because of your undying love for her. So, speak. What brings you here?
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We appreciate the flattery High Priestess but, it is un-necessary.. Eamon bows to a knee and kisses the hem of the high Priestess garmet. As a leader in the Pantheon of good Goddesses and a staunch ally of Iomedea, it is our honor, *a short pause* no our privilege to uplift Dawnflower here. Furthermore, as foreigners, share with the people of Qadira, what we know of the keeper of the Dawn's might and invisibility. Eamon turns to the others and motions for the group member with the letter of introduction to step forward.
We have here great priestess, a letter of introduction from or superior. Is there some place more...discrete that, we could discuss the contents?
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With a grin, Nevedno bows and eats up the applause. Well for my part it was at least mostly just for the fun of it. Any time I can be on stage is a Grande occasion. Plus the priest looked so downcast and the audience so expectant. We just couldn't refuse to help out.
More seriously, However, you are correct in that this stage production was not our reason for attending the festival. We have actually been tasked with seeking an audience with you. I consider it a welcome happenstance that you happen to be present to see our performance. We could never have planned for that.
We have a letter of introduction from Esmayl ibn Qaradi, a captain of the Pathfinder Society. He hands over the letter. I understand this may be delicate topic, but the captain is aware that the Roidaran sect have learned something that has proved troublesome. As you may be aware, the Pathfinders do like to learn everything possible about almost anything. However, we also try to keep that knowledge from uncontrolled disruptions of society. we would like to request your patronage to learn this info and keep it from causing troubles within you city. Especially during this most important festival.
She quickly scans the letter, before looking up at you all with renewed interest.
We shall speak more on this. Perhaps you could join me at the Temple this evening for supper. It would prove a more appropriate time to discuss such... disruptions, and any role you might have in quelling them.
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Drorlud being naturally cynical in almost every situation isn't so sure that directly handing her the message was for the best, and will be keeping an eye on the priestess
when out of ear shot of her he reveals to the group what he found from his scouting prior to the performance
"I didn't have time to mention before, and Im not sure of its relevance, but I overheard people in the crowd saying things such as: 'Will They do what they did yesterday?'".
Looking forward to a decent meal more than anything though Drorlud suggests everyone goes to find somewhere to get cleaned up
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Lynn bowed to the crowd, but retained her form. When the high priestess joined them she allowed the others to talk, doing a great job at that. "I don't believe we have anything else to do before our meeting with you, do we?" She looked to her companions, and dropped the disguise of Sarenrae once there was no crowd around. She watched as their Tiefling companion dropped back a bit, must be strange for him helping a goddess. She gave him a reassuring hand on the shoulder.
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"We shall speak more on this. Perhaps you could join me at the Temple this evening for supper. It would prove a more appropriate time to discuss such... disruptions, and any role you might have in quelling them."
It shall be as you say High Priestess. Eamon formerly bows and waits for the High Priestess and her attendants to leave. He turns to the others and rubs his hands together in triumph..Well first part of the mission accomplished with some ease. Let's hope the rest goes as smoothly! Eamon slaps Drorlud on the shoulder, Come on grim...buy you a drink!
High Priestess al-Sahba makes her home in the city’s imposing temple, whose vast, gilded dome and soaring minarets are visible for miles around.
Each is capped with a stylized holy symbol of Sarenrae, holding aloft a brass and turquoise sunburst. The communal dining quarters are more modest. The great extravagance of the room is found in its stained-glass windows, whose arches depict the triumphs and trials of Sarenrae. Dinner with the High Priestess takes place beneath a vast window depicting Sarenrae’s flaming sword piercing the heart of Rovagug himself. Al-Sahba holds the letter of introduction from Venture-Captain Esmayl ibn Qaradi in front of her, and speaks, It seems our interests are aligned. Tell me: what do you really know of the Roidirans?
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Honestly very little at this point. I have been informed that Roidirans follow the goddess Roidira, the Dark Sister of Knowledge. To Roidirans, nothing matters more than following their goddess’ example and rejecting established wisdom to uncover universal truth. I was unable to learn much more prior to this meeting. We were hoping you could give us some additional info as a starting point for our investigations.
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It seems our interests are aligned. Tell me: what do you really know of the Roidirans?
Eamon mumbles a brief prayer to Iomedea before answering the High Priestess.
I'm afraid we know very little about either faction High Priestess, only what we've already been briefed on. Eamon lowers his eyes in shame but, continues on. We know the Roidirans are worshipers of ancient knowledge and secretes and have claimed do discover some sort of ancient knowledge that, could have an impact on Qadira..or indeed all of Golarion.
Eamon furrows his brow to recall if he could remember any people of interest who's family name may have been attached to the cult. Again he prays for Iomedea's guidance
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Stonelance sits in the back of the room fidgeting and restless, a couple times he goes to say something but manages to restrain himself. Thinking its better to distract himself than risk the mission by opening his mouth the crossbowman pulls out his tool of the trade and a small tool kit and begins making small adjustments on his crossbow.
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Lynn waits quietly watching the others test the waters and sipping at her drink lightly before she finally speaks up."Your highness, as you know we pathfinders are here to settle matters with the White Feather and the Roidirans. We have been given next to no information seeing as the society knows very little of what is happening here in this lovely country, in terms of the two factions. We'd love to get this down and into the history books as quickly as possible, and perhaps give you an edge in your position." She pauses for a moment sipping on her drink a little more giving those words some time to hang. "If you aid us then we shall make sure that your name will be recorded in the annuls as well as a great ally to our cause, and that could prove very beneficial even to one of your standing. So please any information that you can provide us no matter how little would aid us in the coming trials."
What can I say about those who believe in nothing? she says with scornful sternness.
A void is not silent; it screams with its utter pointlessness until it is the only sound your very soul can hear.
To listen to these Roidirans talk, that is what they seek. They begin every incantation, every prayer, with the mantra ‘There is no presence; there is absence. There is no meaning; only knowledge.’ To reach this terrible state of grace, they abjure everything we’ve ever known. They reject the knowledge of our libraries and universities, the collected wisdom of centuries of Sarenite faith, and the stacks of debate about our laws and politics. To them, these are the playthings of lesser minds, and only the secrets that Roidira keeps are true knowledge.
It is hubris.
And they have grown worse, more aggressive after their pilgrimages into the wilderness, though they have not yet devolved into open violence.
She seems to catch herself speechifying when she should be conversing, and pauses, But even if you have little experience with this particular sect, surely as Pathfinders you have experience with those that sow disorder, those that denigrate the wisdom of the past. How have you dealt with them in your own travels?