Here you shall investigate the Haunting of Hinojai!
You are waiting in the well-appointed sitting room of the Lanter Lodge in Absalom’s Petals district. You expect to be brought in to see Venture-Captain Amara Li at any moment but have a chance to introduce yourselves as you wait.
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The tall muscular woman's eyes and ears clearly indicate both human and elven ancestry. She has brown skin and black hair indicating some Mwangi heritage, but also a distinctly Taldan nose, and her accent immediately gives away her city of origin: Oppara.
Her mithral breastplate is polished to a shine, as is the Wayfinder attached to it. She has a large sword sheathed on one side of her body and several coils of rope attached to her belt on the other side.
She smiles as others enter the waiting room, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. There is an almost palpable sense of sadness and regret about her, and she sometimes plays with a charm around her neck absent-mindedly, but then tucks it back under her armor. Careful observers may spot that it is a holy symbol of Sarenrae.
"Hello, I'm Daisley Dogmar. Would you care for some bread? I worked an assignment in a small village in Isger at the beginning of my Pathfinder career, and the baker was so appreciative of our help that he always sends fresh bread before missions." She offers up a basket with quite a few delicious-looking rolls.
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A shadow looms across the door and the place becomes silent. A muscular half-orc stalks into the room. His neck is covered in intricate tattoos that look like shattered glass; greasy black hair hangs down the left side of his chest like a chain.
Beneath a patchwork cloak of strange carmine hides, dented breastplate gloams like tarnished pewter on a cloudy night. He carries a burden of frighteningly large weapons, and a ratty old spellpouch hang off his belt.
He mutters darkly in skald before dropping into a chair. Oooooh… are those cinnamon rolls!? And still warm! He clap his hands before tearing off a hunk of bread.
When he grins the old scars on his cheeks twist like ghosts.
He puts out a callused hand. I am called The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak. If we become friends, you may call me "The Artist Formerly Known As…" for short.
He licks his fingers. I must go to Isger and visit this baker myself!
He flips his braid back behind his head. I hope to assist our band with Easy Listening. I've been on tour for a while with Catfolk Stevens and the Professions(Carpenters), but fear not: my songs bring out a deep motivation and feeling in all who hear!
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A small humanoid frog walks in, a long, janky looking musket slung over his shoulder. His pants are patched and stained, and his mithral-chain muscle shirt is, beyond all reason, rusty. He grins as he hops onto a chair and perches, his hands dangling over the back. "Howdy, y'all! M'names *unintelligible gulping sound*. Most folk don't have the throat structure to say it right, though, so y'all can call me Gorf. Pleasure to meetchyall!"
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"It's lovely to meet you, The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak. I believe you adventured in Sargava with my friend Honoria; she spoke well of you." Daisley greets the grippli more warmly. "Gorf! How have you been? I don't think I've seen you since the business with the robots in the Blakros museum! Of course, that was before that business with the stolen dagger in the Blakros museum...but never mind that. I still don't quite understand how you manage to get mithral to rust."
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"Aw heck, Daisley, good to see ya 'gain! Ah don' know how this dang thing always gits so rustry. It just seems to happen when I spend enough time traipsin' through the swamp. How you been? You don't think we're gonna hafta go into that dang ol' museum again, do ya? Wouldn't mind havin' seen the last of that place, t'be honest."
Shuf shuf thonk
Shuf shuf thonk
Shuf shuf thonk
Shuf shuf thonk
Sounds from the hallway stop, followed by a low chuckle.
Shuf shuf thonk
Shuf shuf thonk
An older woman appears in the doorway. Her head of stark white hair is wrapped in a black cowl, the same lustrous midnight as the shawl draped across her shoulders. Gnarled fingers clutch hooked head of a cane. She shifts her weight onto it, leaning forward as she smiles; wrinkles like river deltas spread shimmer across her cheeks.
"Ooh, I remember that smell. Nothing like good Isger bread.
Shuf shuf thonk
She comes abreast of Daisley and lifts the half-moon spectacles hung by a chain around her neck. Grey blue eyes balloon through the lenses when she looks up at the half-elf woman. "Daisley, was it? Tell me, does your Isgerian baker use cardamom? Hard to come by since the Goblinblood Wars, but necessary for the classic style!"
A thin film passes across her eyes, dull green. "Hmm?" She frowns. "Oh yes, dear, I know. I'll be fine," she murmurs.
Her smile returns. "Oh, I'm sorry. Estra. Pleasure to meet you all."
Clenching a pastry in his left fist, The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagakand takes a dainty nibble before speaking. Delicious. Oooh! Honaria was so nice! I hope you are too — well… I'm sure you are if you're friends! Honaria is discerning indeed.
When Gorf arrives The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak leans across the table, one ropy arm extended for a handshake. I must pick up Grippli at some point.
Baleful yellow eyes squint at the muscle shirt. I have traveled extensively through Sargavan swamps regions with another grippli friend, Jean-Claude Kerogren, near the Pridon’s Hearth coastal region. I too had trouble cleaning up my heavy metal. However, it must be done!
He stands, flips his long hair back over his head, and carries over another chair when Eliza arrives. Hello. The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak's black eyebrows furrow when Eliza seems to speak to someone else.
Please, join us. I am The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak. Do you now why we've been called here?
Eliza bobs her head at The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak.
"How courteous, thank you."
She lowers herself onto the chair, places the cane across her lap, and then rests her knit-fingered hands atop it. "As for why we're here, no doubt something unusual or calamitous. These Society affairs usually are. At least there's good food while we wait—might I try some bread? Not often one gets memories of home in this line of work."
She adjusts her glasses and, if offered a roll, gingerly holds it between knobby fingers and takes a delicate bite.
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"Mmm, just so. A shorter version is easier to shout during said calamities."
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The Artist Known as Cudak Tanagak
Cudak glowers at the grippli. formerly.
He rasps in a death growl: Like deadly spirits called from the beyond, true artists must always be invoked by their full stage name as a matter of respect. I am a true artist; thus this esteem is my due. However, I have also received sobriquets including "Swoonaka," "Old Scary Eyes," and — he clenches a meaty fist high in the air — "The Murderfist of Pop."
Now. If you are busy being disembowled, beaten, stabbed, or eating exquisite pastries such as these, then exceptions can be made, of course. "Cudak" or any honorific will suffice. Else, I prefer my correct designation.
He turns to Estra. You can certainly taste a hint of cardamon — it's — he growls — lovely.
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Estra seems about to speak when her lips clamp shut. She snorts, then gives a small shake of her head. "You're right, of course."
She waves a hand in acquiescence. "Well, I'll stay with the Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak until my discretion tells me otherwise," she says primly. "And I'm glad you enjoy the cardamom. Trade routes and timetables became murkier than a lord's chamberpot during the wars, and we never quite recovered. You learn to appreciate such things."
The door to the sitting room opens and you are ushered into an immaculately maintained garden where Venture-Captain Amara Li is pruning a rose bush. She rises gracefully while handing the gardening shears to a servant and tugs off her gloves.
“Just the agents I requested. Thank you for coming,” she says, gesturing for the group to walk with her through the garden.
“The lands of Tian Xia are rich in mysteries unknown here in the Inner Sea. There is one legend in particular that has intrigued me for many years, and astute agents such as yourselves many find it an opportunity to see their investigations chronicled for their colleagues to read and admire.
“In the land of Minkai, a mansion sits atop a hill, where no one dares to venture. It is called Hinojai, and stories tell that it was the home of a wealthy and powerful woman before the fall of Imperial Lung Wa a century ago. It is a long trip, but I strongly suspect the manifestations are genuine and worth the trek. You see, there is but one thing more interesting than discovering a haunting—discovering how it came to be.”
Estra bows at the Venture-Captain's greeting. At the mention of manifestations, she leans forward intently, resting her weight on her cane. "Haunting, you say? I know a thing or two about those." She licks her lips. "What does this haunting do specifically? And why so important to discover how it came to be, rather than merely lead it to its eternal rest?"
She regards the Venture-Captain over her glasses, and replaces a corner of shawl when it slides off one shoulder.
”I only know that the locals claim the House is haunted and avoid going there. Once you arrive you may wish to do some investigation. The dominant languages there are Tian and Minkaian, so you may wish to hire a local guide and translator.”
"Mmm. And will the Society reimburse us for those expenses?" She smiles sardonically at the Venture-Captain. "Or these fine people could save us the coin—do any of you speak either language?"
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"I'm afraid I'm not much of one for languages. Common and Elven is all. I've never dealt with a haunting either, but I suppose there's a first time for everything. Can you tell us anything about these manifestations?" Daisley offers up the basket of cardamom rolls to Venture-Captain Li.
Not those languages. Not much call for Easy Listening in those parts.
The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak taps the wand of comprehend languages at his belt, and considers how best to spend his gold. He racks his brain for anything about the region.
Amara Li takes a piece of bread with a polite nod. She covers her mouth with one hand as she takes bite and smiles with her eyes at the flavor.
She continues: “I wish I knew more than the rumors that Hinojai is haunted. A local translator, if necessary, shouldn’t cost much. Your transportation is arranged, of course. Hinojai sits in a triangle between two villages and a small town named Nagura. Nagura is large enough to allow you to do any last minute provisioning you require, as well as any background investigation you may wish to do.”
"If the Isger baking is coming with us, I see no reason to stay over long." Estra's gaze lingers on the Venture-Captain a bit before she turns her smile towards Daisley.
The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak crosses his arms; bone fetishes rattle on his wrists and he hums a delicate melody that is also somehow annoyingly bland.
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Amara Li leads you to a quiet gazebo where a tea service has been prepared. She invites you to sit.
”The investigation of Hinojai is not a ruse, but I do have another purpose in dispatching a mission there. The noblewoman who lived in Hinojai prior to its haunting, Minasako Himiju, has been linked to an organization called the Way of the Kirin, which I and the Pathfinder Society have an interest in.
“The Way of the Kirin had an extensive network across the continent of Tian Xia, and Hinojai was one of its centers of operation. By most accounts the Way no longer exists, but I have reason to suspect that is not true. Their fall was only two or three generations ago, and Tian cultures do not forget so quickly. We might track down the members' descendants, and see if this order survives in any form today.”
She pours steaming green tea for each of you into delicate porcelain cups.
“This may not seem important at present, but may become so in years to come. If you could, see what records or clues concerning the Way’s membership you can uncover within Hinojai.”
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The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak bows to Amara as she hands him the cup; his right hand engulfs the delicate porcelain and his left supports it from below. His stringy black hair hangs across across his face like a curtain of shadows while, silently, he takes an itty-bitty sip.
Yes… can you lend us any further insight or wisdom into this Way of the Kirin?
Estra lets the tea cup warm her hands before lifting it to her mouth. She mutter into it quietly enough that only Gorf, sitting next to her, could hear.
"Lovely that we almost traipsed off to the other side of the world with incomplete information. Very professional."
She takes a sip. Obscured by steam, another flash of green briefly covers her eyes.
Oh shush, Honaire. Let an old woman have her fun once in a while!
Amara Li smiles at Cudak’s manners, oblivious to Estra’s sass.
“The Way was an organization that existed before the fall of Imperial Lung Wa, with an extensive trading network and mercenary armies that they contracted only to clients who met certain criteria. The Way was dedicated to fairness for common people and to opposing political corruption. Their outlook would not have been incompatible with that of the Pathfinder Society.”
"More covert philanthropy than smugglers and spies, then." Estra raises an eyebrow above the rim of her teacup. " So you're hoping to make contact with whoever might still be involved with the Way? Hoping the Hinojai estate might lead you in their direction?"
”Yes, that is correct.” Amara Li sips her tea. ”Investigate Hinojai, learn what you can about the rumored manifestations there, and recover any information on the Way of the Kirin.”
“I’m sure you can understand, what is common knowledge in Nagura may not be in Absolam. You will need to ask questions once you arrive. Please be mindful of local traditions and represent the Pathfinder Society in a positive light—do not upset the local people! Remember that the Pathfinder Society is not as well-known in Minkai as it is in the Inner Sea. Damaged relationships only hurt future agents who may be following up on your discoveries.”
She looks over the party’s more matially inclined members. ”Finally, remember your mission is to discover what happened at Hinojai, not burn it to the ground. Protect and defend yourselves, by all means, but we seek the truth, we do not destroy it.”
If there are no other questions, Amara Li wishes you safe travels. Your transportation to Minkai is already arranged. Maps and travel routes to Nagura and Hinojai are provided for you. In Nagura you will have an opportunity to do some preliminary investigation and make any last-minute purchases.
"We'll be the very picture of discretion." Estra rises from the table.
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Your journey around the world is long but uneventful and you arrive safely in Nagura.
Smoke wafts in the sky from the chimney's of Nagura’s active ceramic kilns, while the streets are filled with the scents and sounds of vendors selling both raw and cooked food items from booths: grilled squid, grilled fish, grilled chicken, even grilled rice balls!
Nagura is a small but active town and serves as a hub for the distribution of lumber, rice, and other foodstuffs. Aside from numerous residences, the town offers accommodation for merchants and travelers, a general store, and a number of cottage industries such as pottery and weaving.
To the west of town, a large residence for government officials sits reserved for the local samurai or the representative of the regency. To the east are a number of shrines to various gods, separated from the rest of town by a bright red torii gate.
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Estra takes in the sights, sounds, and smells of this unfamiliar place. Do you know, dear, I always thought I'd live out my days in the same cramped parlor, turning the same old grifts. Oh, but how things change. A melancholy smile settles on her face, the cracks at the corners of her mouth turning down like willow boughs. You certainly have.
She shakes her head. "Hmm? Yes. An interpreter will have cultural competency I certainly lack. Though I do plan on some magical assistance—people are people, after all, and most interpreters have biases. The Artist Formerly Known As Cudak Tanagak—Oh don't you start again, Honaire, I'm allowed to scoff internally—I don't suppose you'd be a gentleman again and help a spinster with some scrolls if I buy them? I can puzzle the things out, but you'd make things more expeditious."