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Frankie hugs the remaining Shoanti, bartering a quick deal for some explosively awesome candy he came across back at home. "These red ones are really hot and these green ones realllly sour! Just don't try eating more than one at a time!" He pops a sour one into his mouth and his lips pucker shut.
"Its so bad its really good!"
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"Fire up the time machine Jia, we got a bedtime to get back to!" He grabs up Denny and Meredith's hands and holds on tight.
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"Everyone did super great Mr Valsin. Most of the clan people were nice, except one, he was mean. He got out voted though. Nice they get to vote like that. I think one day when I'm old enough I'd like to vote too!" Frankie quickly gets distracted though by an old shoelace on the floor, picking it up and wondering just what sort of shoe it came from.
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"Now's the time to celebrate our success." Serge sighs in relief, stretching out as wide as a cat might, especially after that last fight. "The debt's been repaid and that Lumketul will not make the same mistake again, I'm sure of it. I can't help but wonder where he went. As Caller says, if you ever require the resources to track him and bring him in, perhaps I might also be of some help."
Trying as he might to dust off more dried blood from his full plate - to no avail - the paladin turns to QC. "In the meantime, the only thing I want to track down is that onsen!"
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As the others conduct the debrief with Captain Valsin, Quang Chi sits at a small side table and jots down some notes for his report. He'll flesh them out later, but it's good to catch things now while the others are all still together in case he forgot or missed something. Later he'll write it all out, one copy in Common for the Pathfinders and another in Tien for Master Kae.
Later.
But first there are more important matters to attend to.
The wood paneled room is so steamy as to make it hard to see anything at all. A moot point as the monk rests with his eyes closed, his head on the bare thigh of a lovely young Tien lady. His naked body soaks in a deep wooden tub as she massages his bald scalp with her tiny hands that are unbelievably strong for their size.
At the sound of his friend letting out a long sigh of pure contentedness, he smiles. Then he chuckles slightly at the memory of Serge's first reactions to the "dress code," his shock at having two women scrub the dirt and gore from him, and then the face he made during the cold-pool plunge. Now the paladin rests similarly while the same two young women massage the kinks of travel and battle from his muscles.
"Is there anything better in all the world than this, my friend? If so, I cannot begin to imagine it," he asks rhetorically as all three of their masseuses lithely shift to begin another round of lighter and more ... intimate massage.
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As he listens to your report Valsin visibly relaxes. "Well done. You have my gratitude and likely the gratitude of the Shoanti people - even if not all of them choose to express it," he replies. "Take some time and rest - I'll be notifying you when I hear back from Cousin-to-All. And as for Lumketul...while we have little information on his current whereabouts, I will certainly keep the two of you in mind," Valsin nods at Caller and Serge, "should it become necessary to bring him in ourselves."
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After a few days, Valsin summons you all once more to his office. A large crate sits open on his desk, several bottles poking out from the straw. "A delivery for you," he says, gesturing to the box. "Courtesy of Cousin-to-All and the other Shoanti council members, as thanks for your efforts in restoring the Muschkal Sepulcher. Once again - well done, Pathfinders! Well done."
Venture-Captain Brackett stands in the opulent Grand Cathedral of Aroden in Almas, the intricate stained glass window onto Andoran’s bustling capital speckling his thin, hawk-nosed face with colored light. Though most - or perhaps all - of you have never met this particular Venture-Captain his reputation precedes him and you know him to be a gregarious and gracious host, as well as skilled with a blade. Yet it seems that today’s business leaves him in an uncharacteristically somber mood.
"The Society has been granted a unique opportunity, and I hope you are up to the task. Last week I received a missive from the nymph queen Syntira of Darkmoon Wood to the north. It seems a deadly plague afflicts the fey of the Wood and they are desperate to find its source and a cure. While we would not normally waste our time and resources on this sort of endeavor, this particular situation presents us several potential boons we can not pass up."
"Syntira has long attempted to improve relations between her fey subjects and the human inhabitants of nearby Falcon’s Hollow," Brackett continues. "Sadly, the Lumber Consortium agents who run the town are not open to a diplomatic solution, and tensions remain high. The Society stands to learn much from the fey, both about their magical nature and the elusive First World, and we could certainly benefit from a powerful ally in Darkmoon Vale."
There's a pause the Venture-Captain looks around at each of you, though his gaze lingers on Frankie, Meredith, and Denair in particular. "The three of you were with that team Smine sent to handle that business in Uringen a while back, yes? Then you'll already have some understanding of how fraught human-fey relations can be. Do whatever you can to get to the bottom of this plague and find a solution. We must show Syntira that the Pathfinder Society deserves her trust."
Here, Brackett produces a map and offers it to one of you. "We believe the strange disease may originate from a cursed relic known as Isandrea’s Basin rumored to be hidden deep within Darkmoon Wood. If this theory proves accurate, I want you to obtain the basin and bring it to me for study. I imagine an external force harnessed the artifact’s power and guards it heavily - so be prepared."
"One Lumber Consortium logging camp in particular was involved in several conflicts with the forest’s resident fey over the last year, and both Syntira and I believe that starting your investigation at this cutyard will prove most productive. The map I just gave you will lead you to it. Once you have located and identified the disease, seek Syntira herself and aid her in any way possible. Stock up on provisions here in Almas before heading up-river, as you may find Falcon’s Hollow too small and provincial for many of your needs. Don’t dally too long, however, because the disease is quickly spreading, and we want to stop it before it gets out of hand."
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{Twang}
{Thoop}
{Twang}
{Thoop}
Quang Chi fires arrow after arrow at the row of palm trees nearly 50 paces away. The sea breeze crosswind presents a bit of a challenge, but he's not working on his accuracy right now. Now he seeks only the mindfulness of repetition and muscle memory.
{Twang}
{Thoop}
{Clap, clap, clap}
The meditative rhythm is broken by the sound of diminutive hands clapping. In spite of the interruption, the monk smiles as he turns to the young woman approaching from the small beach hut.
"How you can keep that up for, what, like a hundred shots in a row, I have no idea," she says in a slight Chelaxian accent that she's working hard to erase. "But if it's got anything to do with your stamina, I really shouldn't be surprised," she finishes with a wink. She stands on her tiptoes and stretches upward beckoning for Quang Chi to bend down for a kiss. Tien men aren't generally tall, but compared to halfling women they're practically giants.
The pair walk down the beach in silence to retrieve his arrows. Finally she looks up at him with a little sadness in her big brown eyes. "You got a message. It's sealed with the same symbol like on your jade thing." She pauses. "You'll have to go now, won't you?"
"Yes," he answers simply, popping an arrow from a palm tree and inspecting it. Deciding that it can indeed be reused, he places it in his quiver and turns to face her. "Yes," he repeats. "I will read the letter, but the Pathfinders are rarely in a rush. We can return to Augustana in the morning."
"Well, then, let's hope you aren't too tired from all this," she teases as she turns back toward the hut....
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A few days later, happy memories still in his mind, Quang Chi stands in the cathedral in Almas. As Brackett gives them the briefing, he watches Meredith and Denair closely to see how they react to this new assignment. He also watches the new members of their team trying to gauge them as teammates.
"Captain, what does the Society know of this Basin you mentioned?"
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It was a lovely meeting, honestly. Payah-Against-the-Wind arrived, as promised, and Meredith put on her finest dress. But not too fancy, you wouldn't wear that at a farm. Just the one with the rose patterns that she liked to wear right after a storm passed. Or was that overkill? A half dozen roses in her hair every time Denair was around. Meredith had even begun a rose garden. Denair had to drag her away from the wardrobe.
It was a delightful meeting, although Meredith didn't say much when Payah-Against-the-Wind would carry barrels around without breaking a sweat, or she'd tame a wild animal by just yelling at it. And hey, she even liked the turnip soup and identified 4 spices everyone else misses.
But goodbyes were had, and Meredith had a Shoanti ally. A pretty major one, too. Meredith stilled her beating heart and finally took a nap, exhausted from the visit.
It wasn't much longer afterward that she got a missive with the Glyph of the Open Road on it. "Hmm, Brackett. Oh well, let's see where we get dragged to this time. Probably another creepy mausoleum or crypt." she sighs.
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As the Venture-Captain explains the mission, Meredith's thoughts drift. All of Denair's stories, all of Meredith's dreams of her previous life as the Queen of Thorns. They could be confirmed, or denied. Oh, right. And a nymph queen. Oh, okay. So, beautiful incarnation of nature knows all of Meredith's answers. No problem.
Meredith breathes slowly to control herself. "Y-y-yeah, we will help." She glances at Denair, who is surprisingly quiet. Meredith expected some teasing. "Um... any major players at the Lumber Consortium? They do understand the war they are risking with the fey, right?"
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The Boss smells weird. She's been smearing floral pollen and fruit juice on herself for the last few hours. She's also doting over what to wear, which she never does. She also hasn't slept for the last week. That ring she wears means she doesn't need to eat or sleep as much, but she's getting giddy.
Courting rituals are weird.
Payah-Against-the-Wind keeps calling Denair a guardian spirit, which is nice. Someone recognizes what she does for Meredith. And she knew what plants were used to make turnip soup. Everyone forgets some of them.
Meredith seems alright with what happened, but sleep soon catches up to her. Too much stimulation will knock you right out.
Back Home, Denair's oak sapling is blooming. Water and sun are good, soil has enough nutrients, too. Maybe the Boss can return some day. A faerie dragon flies near and whispers into Denair's ears. Denair bats him away. Another prank. But he's persistent, and lands on the one spot on her back she has trouble reaching.
Queen Syntira sends her regards.
Denair shoots straight up, alert. Was she finally forgiven? Was Meredith forgiven? So many questions, and the faerie dragon gave no answers, just a message.
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Venture-Captain Brackett gave Denair the excuse they needed. She would be able to visit the queen. And Meredith would come with her. It was too perfect. If they could stop the plague!
Denair kept quiet. She knew exactly what to do.
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An array of gemstones orbit the head of a large man siting at a sturdy mahogany desk. While making notes in a black pocketbook, an old messenger appears in his doorway and waits to be addressed. In the bustling metropolis of Kaer Maga, I never had to address anyone, yet Mut, in all its rotting 'splendor,' every damn servant must be. The trappings of nobility. He sighs.
"Thank you, Mr. Beauregard," Vosk says, waving the elderly man away with a fat, jewl-encrusted hand. You could pay urchins to shut their mouths and close their eyes. Actual servants? Not enough gold in the world to stop the gossip.
Snapping the book closed, sliding open a drawer, his deft and well-manicured hands procure a silver letter-opener to slice the envelope open. After darting across the words, his eyes roll. Almas, Venture-Captain Brackett, Fey, and disease. Ugh. Fey live in the woods. Another miserable trip. Standing up from his chair, which groans with relief as it shifts back to it's natural shape, he pulls a large map from the ceiling.
Almas, Almas... Ah ha! Tracing a meaty finger from the small city of Mut, Taldor to Almas, Andoran, he smiles. The Eclair then!
He tosses the note into a sooty, glass jar, incinerates its contents and in the same motion shoulders a bag hanging from a hook. Pushing open the well-crafted door of his new home, he steps into the morning sun and heads for the docks to find his ship.
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Vosk sits contentedly during the briefing and takes notes on the keypoints. Fey allies may be useful to my aspirations. Capricious lot, but not without value if they are in proximity to a lumberyard. Queen or not, however, if she cannot control her people, she will be useless to me. "What is the nature our relationship with the Lumber Consortium?" he asks when it comes to his turn to ask a question.
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"Captain, what does the Society know of this Basin you mentioned?"
"A surprising amount, for a rumor," Brackett replies. "Legend states that an evil dryad created this basin to harm humanoids lost in Darkmoon Wood who wandered into her glade. Locals say that it curses any water it holds and that anyone who drinks from it succumbs to a deadly wasting disease. Some believe that while the basin was created to infect humanoids, it possesses an unfortunate side effect wherein it also infects fey, who succumb to it much faster than humanoids."
The VC shakes his head. "Seems like a pretty big oversight if you ask me, but fey are...capricious and difficult to get the measure of, even at the best of times. Maybe the creator thought it would be funny or maybe they just didn't care. Who's to say, really?"
"Um... any major players at the Lumber Consortium? They do understand the war they are risking with the fey, right?"
"I can tell you that the Lumber Consortium’s business in the region is overseen by Thuldrin Kreed, descendant of one of the town’s founding families. Kreed maintains control of the region by denying goods and services through means other than those he allows; with few exceptions nearly all buildings and businesses within the town belong to the Lumber Consortium."
"When you have people like that in charge...all that matters is turning a profit, fey or worker well-being be damned," Brackett sighs.
"What is the nature our relationship with the Lumber Consortium?"
"As of this moment, none. That said, it could always change - especially since it's been rumored that some of their directors may have ties to the Aspis Consortium. But that's a whole different kettle of fish and not something we have the means to act on or investigate at the moment."
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Darkmoon Wood is located in Darkmoon Vale, at the base of Droskar's Crag, along the banks of the River Foam in northern Andoran, near the border of Isger and Druma. The dense forest, which stretches approximately forty-two miles wide and around fifteen miles tall, contains at its heart a small lake which runs into the nearby River Foam. Lumber camps can be found throughout the outer edges of the Vale, a reminder that the dangers of the woods are not enough to stop the expansion of the greedy Lumber Consortium. The nearest permanent settlement is the logging town of Falcon's Hollow, which rests about eight miles from the forest's southern edge.
Darkmoon Wood is among the most dangerous places in all of Avistan. A feral, fey-haunted forest on the edge of civilization, the Wood presents a constant threat to those who live nearby, but also serves as a persistent temptation to adventurers eager to make names for themselves.
According to the oldest known tales of the dwarves who were first to settle in the area, the nymph Syntira was there when they first arrived. Known as the Eternal Queen of Darkmoon Vale, she is said to be an overall peaceful and fair-minded queen who greatly prefers diplomacy over warfare. That said, she is not above acting with quick and cold efficiency when provoked.
Rumor has it that Syntira is not only the Eternal Queen of Darkmoon Vale but also a direct emissary from the First World and the Eldest who dwell there.
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Serge had a calm few days following the memorable night he'd spent at the onsen. He had mustered some of that paladin courage into asking one of the professional masseuses out. And so he sat at a bar, sipping strong ale from a shallow glass, his head buried in a small piece of paper with her address on it. He'd take a sip, look at the paper, and brood. If this leads to something more formal, will I also lose her to tragedy when I'm off on Society business? Or does she moonlight as an adventurer, risking her life diving into daring tombs as I have?
He stands up, dusting off his full-plate: freshly buffed by the local armorsmith, the emblazoned wing of Ragathiel now easily twice as bright and twice as shiny. He grips the paper in his hand, glancing over at the tables where locals sit, laugh, and share stories. One day, perhaps when life is simpler. But for now, I cannot imagine losing another. Without friends, I cannot lose anyone.
And so he tosses the paper away as he marches out of the tavern.
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CHONK CHONK CHONK
... The sound of heavy armor and plated boots approaching rapidly. In strides Serge. "Ah, Denair, Meredith," Serge smiles as he pants his way into the Cathedral. "Good to see you again. And Quang Chi," he shoots him a knowing smile, "I hope you have been well."
After he catches his breath, he turns to Vosk. "I believe we have not met before. I'm Serge, Paladin of Ragathiel, also here to help with... Oh. Er... I apologize, Venture-Captain, but it seems I have missed the briefing." He offers a handshake to the new face either way.
"Oh! Darkmoon Wood. Well, that's in Darkmoon Vale. The base of Droskar's Crag. It's really dense, too. The part you guys can visit is about forty-two miles wide and fifteen miles tall." She pouts a bit. "Those loggers are about eight miles from the southern edge of the forest."
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"Serge, Chi. Good to see you again." Meredith shakes hands with the two men. "Chi, I've been meaning to ask you about how you bow. It's quite... hmm. Very practiced and very formal. I felt so rude when meeting the Quahs. I'll need to get some tips from you on that."
She turns to the newcomer. This man hasn't worked out in years. Then again, Payah's way ahead of me. Gotta bulk up a bit. "Howdy. I'm Meredith." She extends her hand out. "And this is my associate, Denair. That's Serge, Chi and... hmm. I know Frankie's around here somewhere. Anyway, what brings you here? I know the Pathfinders don't get a lot of choice on our destinations, but usually there's something interesting that attracts members to these missions."
"I'm going to buy some antiplague before we leave. Just in case."
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At the mention of Darkmoon Vale, something tickles Quang Chi's mind. A story, a word, a name... He rubs the "jade thing" (remembering with a tiny smile what she called his wayfinder) hanging on his quiver's strap and the memory sharpens.
Ah, yes, Willet mentioned this place. It was when Master Kae was telling him a fable set in the Forest of Spirits. He said there was a place like that in Avistan, but he hoped to never have to visit it. Of course, it would fall to me to do so instead.
"Apologies, but I too have heard of this place. It was described to me as, hmmm, how did he say it, "stupidly dangerous."
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When Serge finally arrives, Quang Chi notes something off about the man. He seems a bit too happy. Like he's faking it or overcompensating. The knowing smile makes the monk think that it has something to do with the onsen. To him that was just normal service for such a place (actually a little below par to be honest, only about an 8 out of 12). But he worries that something transpired afterwards. He'll have to get the story later.
"I have been well, thank you, my friend," he replies without betraying his suspicions.
"Meredith, I would be happy to try to teach you. But understand, bowing in Tian Xia is as ingrained as smiling in Avistan. We learn it early and do it without conscious thought. But I would be happy to explain the, hmmm, nuances."
And with that, he turns and executes a 'polite half-height bow of greeting to an unknown equal rank colleague with an extra couple degrees of mild apology for a belated introduction' to Vosk. "Greetings. Apologies for not introducing myself earlier. As Meredith says, I am Quang Chi originally from Xa Hoi."
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Frankie gingerly tip toes into the room, his face wincing with each and every step as he holds his stomach and tries to avoid notice. I'm so late they're gonna roast me good. I was sick.. yup, sick!
Frankie's feeble voice chimes in from behind Serge "I'm here. You just didn't see me over here I guess. Feeling a bit under the weather is all. Must have been some of the vegetables you made me eat from your farm. You know my stomach can't handle broccoli..." He coughs and makes a farting noise out of it at the same time.
He looks around at the new comer and waves feebly. "Hi. I'm Frankie." He gingerly walks over to the map and stands on his tip toes to take a look... "There is a map right? I love maps... this place is dangerous? Ugh. Like how dangerous?"
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Quang Chi smiles at the boy's attempts at deception.
"I though you ate some broccoli at that inn on the way to Ustalav. Or was that cauliflower?"
"But if you are very sick, I have some special Tien tea. It is sure to remove everything from your body that might be making you feel bad. And I do mean everything." he teases Frankie.
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Annea flies, with her hawk familiar Tyndyn, into the briefing (literally) and is gasping for breath, "Sorry I am late... I didn't realize the time when I was harvesting rare herbs in the moonlight last night."
After the briefing.
"If I remember correctly...According to the oldest known tales of the dwarves who were first to settle in the area, the nymph Syntira was there when they first arrived. Known as the Eternal Queen of Darkmoon Vale, she is said to be an overall peaceful and fair-minded queen who greatly prefers diplomacy over warfare. That said, she is not above acting with quick and cold efficiency when provoked."
"I do have some knowledge of the Fey and as a devoted follower of the Green Faith and of the Goddess in particular, I am sure that we should be as prepared as possible for our upcoming journey."
Annea will purchase 2 antiplague and Antitoxin and will encourage everyone else to do the same.
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With introductions beginning, Vosk smooths back what's left of his hair and tightens his ponytail. Of course, his rings catch all manner of light as he does so. "Baronet Vosk Lazav," he announces proudly, the sausage fingers of one hand gently grasping his lapel as he cuts as dignified an image as he can, despite being seated. He lets his words soak for a moment before clasping each person's offered hand within both of his, he pulls them in for a warm hug followed by a kiss for each cheek.
"Well, Meridith, the Society is a wonderful way to meet new people of all walks of life, while supporting the development of a vast and varied array of knowledge," he responds with a rhythm that only comes with rehearsal. He chuckles at Frankie's antics with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"To dispel the mystery of why someone like me is an Agent and not merely a parchment pusher, I am quite adept with arcane magic," he answers the unasked question. And many, many, other skills, but we'll reveal those cards as they are needed. "What talents do each of you bring to our little band?" he asks with a smile, looking to each of you for a moment until someone decides to speak.
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Frankie manages to catch Quang's drift about the tea and shakes his head slowly in disgust. He keeps quiet about feeling ill for the rest of the day, at least when within earshot of the archer. His attention is quickly captured though by the flying team's arrival.
"Woah Denny look, more flyers like you!" Frankie introduces himself to Annea and quickly goes about trying to pet the hawk. "Here birdie birdie birdie! I love pets!"
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Frankie squirms out of Vosk's hug, feeling a bit uneasy about the situation. "Umm hi, I'm Frankie. How come you smell like bacon?" He asks honestly before tackling the man's question to the group.
"I'm the hero! I rescue slaves, convince fey to work together with humans, foil evil plots and defeat meanies!" He strikes a heroic pose, his cloak billowing in an unseen breeze.
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Well, that was a bit awkward. Meredith pauses a bit as the Baronet (or whatever his title is) gives a quick peck on the cheek. Arcane. Yeah, makes sense. He's full of jewelry. They're even orbiting his head.
"Denair and I fight together. And when I can't fight, I can call upon primal forces to aid me. But you're better at it than I am, I'm certain."
Denair runs right up and accepts any handshakes, kisses or whatever he's offering- everyone is a bit confused by her fox-like face and wooden, branched hands.
Meanwhile, Meredith turns to Annea and her hawk. "Huh. You two fight as one, I guess? Makes sense. What is the Green Faith? Something tells me Denair would eat this right up."
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Quang Chi offers Vosk only a bow in lieu of a handshake, so the fat man has no chance to pull the monk in for a kiss. (Were their new teammate a halfling woman, the situation would most certainly have been different, though.)
"What talents do each of you bring to our little band?"
At Vosk's question, he draws his longbow from the magical quiver on his back. Unstrung, it is nearly impossible to tell that normally it would be strangely curved and much longer than similar Avistani weapons.
"I am an archer," he announces simply. "I also have a small mystical connection to certain wild creatures and the Green," he adds at Annea's pronouncement.
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When the team goes to gather supplies, Quang Chi follows the wisdom of the group and buys antiplague and antitoxin also. He stops in at the only Tien grocery and pharmacy in Almas to see what Mrs. Chao might also suggest. The proprietor knew Quang Lin before his untimely death, and treats his son like her own. She recommends he begin flavoring his food with black cumin to bolster his immune system. As they chat, she inquires into his health and whether he's found a girl yet. There aren't many, but she offers to set him up with one of the very nice Tien women in Almas. Though the monk politely declines, she continues to dote upon him, and makes sure that he takes some 'Tiger Balm' liniment for his muscles. As he leaves, he promises Auntie Chao that he will be careful and to bring her something special the next time he visits if he can.
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Annea curtsies slightly in a manner that displays she is clearly from peasant stock and appears rather apprehensive of the 'Baron's' familiar regional accent.
"I too am a practitioner of the arcane arts... in a manner of speaking. My abilities are linked to innate power of Nature, the Goddess, and the elements. I can heal... and of course fly as you have already seen."
As Frankie continues to show interest in Tyndyn.
"Oh be careful sweetie, Tyndyn doesn't like it when you try to pet him without asking first. Stand up straight and hold out your arms and you can hold him for awhile... just be very gentle when you pet him and don't poke him with your fingers... he REALLY doesn't like that."
Tyndyn will give out a few screeches before perching on Frankie's arm- and will endure the 'making nice' request of his mistress.
When Denair inquires about the Green Faith Annea's face lights up as she smiles broadly, "Oh the Green Faith and the Goddess are wonderful, and is based upon the understanding that all natural things are part of our natural world. In the earliest of times, the Green Faith was the first... ummm, well faith of all of Golarian's religions and acknowledged the magic, power and divine nature of the four primal forces- earth, air, fire and water. That's why it is sometimes called the 'Old Faith.' We celebrate our faith at the solstices and follow the lunar calendar. Many Druids are members of the Green Faith. We are friends of the Fey and all natural creatures."
With the last bit, Tyndyn lets out a couple of screeches.
"Oh, yes Silly, magical creatures too! You are so sensitive."
Turning back to Denair, Annea sums up, "We devote ourselves to Nature by protecting and nurturing it... and fighting evil and corruption wherever we can."
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Annea seems to have found an instant friend in Meredith, "A plaque? That sounds very dangerous. I was recently in the town of Saringallow and discovered an evil plot to corrupt the town through the use of an alchemically-altered version demon's bile. It was disgusting and awful. I am sure we will be able to figure out what is going on here and find the proper balance- while protecting and preserving nature."
Vosk smiles at Frankie's bold question. "A nose like a hound! Just this morning I had my ship's chef fry a rack to go with my pain aux chocolat. The savory, greasy flavor of bacon complimented the sweet, buttery flakes of the pastry! Ahhh, magnifique!" From the passion with which he speaks about his breakfast, it is pretty clear food is more than just food to him. If his physique didn't do the trick already.
"I see, I see. A hero, a fighting pair, a mystical archer, and a hay-fueled arcanist," he summarizes with a playful wink to Annea, before giving her his attention. "That is quite the curiosity! Typically, nature offers its own kind of magic, but you've been able to draw mastery of the arcane! Would you care to speak more about the topic?" he asks with genuine interest.
"It seems many of you already have prior experience with handling diseases! I shall happily differ to your expertise when it comes to dealing with this wasting disease." He shivers at the thought. "My last foray for the Society was to expose the corrupt nobility in Ridonport, Taldor," he explains, pausing to admire his jeweled hands. "The citizens were quite grateful to have such people denied from further control of the reigns of their society." So grateful that they set me on the path of nobility! Ha! If only those goons in Kaer Maga could see me now.
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Amidst the introductions and chat, Vosk idly tries to recall anything he might know specifically about Falcon's Hollow and the Lumber Consortium. He's heard enough talk to know that Falcon's Hollow is the end of the line for many of its residents — the final destination in their flight from the long arm of the law, a haven from crushing debts, a sanctuary from crippling abuse, or a new start free from religious persecution. The ramshackle lumber town clings to the ragged edge of the Darkmoon Vale, staring down the wild shadows of a vast and largely unexplored frontier. Falcon's Hollow attracts the desperate in droves — and it also beckons the calculatingly cruel, such as the Lumber Consortium, who merrily grind those poor souls under their unforgiving heels.
As for the Lumber Consortium itself, Vosk's information network has offered him a fair bit already...
History
A remnant of the past when Andoran existed as a Chelish holding, the Lumber Consortium has seen its wealth and influence decline with the coming of democracy. Nonetheless, the Lumber Consortium continues to exert great pressure on smaller and weaker regions and communities, particularly in the less developed areas of Andoran. The Consortium's major logging operation occurs in and around Darkmoon Vale, and as such, this is where their continued power is most noticeable.
The Lumber consortium was founded in the year 1853 AR, to provide a steady supply of lumber to Taldor, but little is known of the Consortium before Barenddo Novotnian founded the city of Olfden in 4128 AR as the first lumber town in the Darkmoon Vale region. Novotnian lumberjacks provided wood to Oregent, where Barenddo's business partner, Lord Rene Rakesclaw, owned the necessary sawmills and the lumber was sent off to Augustana.
Rene's grandson, Tarris Rakesclaw, eventually bought out Novotnian, headed up a partnership and established a lumber organization focused on efficiency and profits, not employee welfare, in 4139 AR. Rakesclaw's efforts were very successful and he bought out competitors and vendors and donated generously to the Chelaxian Empire.
In the ensuing three centuries, the Lumber Consortium was unstoppable. Government-run operations were privatized (lobbied for by the Consortium) and absorbed. Privately operated competitors were taken over, be they lumber companies, sawmills or barge operations. The Consortium had a complete monopoly when the Thrice Damned House of Thrune took power in Cheliax.
Not a big fan of anybody holding power but themselves, the Thrune government tried to legislate the Lumber Consortium out of business. Years passed and the Consortium's power and control decreased. Then Andoran rose up and declared independence from Cheliax and the Consortium's Board saw a golden opportunity. They supported the new government and came to a mutually agreeable arrangement, though both sides distrust the other, as the Consortium's management style is in direct opposition to Andoran's principles of liberty.
Structure
The Lumber Consortium is controlled by a board of directors in Oregent, all of whom possess a controlling share of the company. They oversee the operations of the organization, laying out the long-term, large-scale strategies and leaving the day-to-day management to on-site foremen known as gavels.
At its height, the Consortium had over a dozen, but currently employs only three gavels: Cedrog Deadknuckle, Rhyma Bloodthorn, and Thuldrin Kreed, of the Darkmoon Vale region. No one rises to power within the Lumber Consortium without making their fortunes on the backs of lumberjacks and at the expense of the forests and native civilians. Though they have never been known for their kind hearts or straight morals, members of the board have become increasingly sadistic and cruel as their power has eroded. Hushed rumors even tie a few of the directors to the mysteriously sinister Aspis Consortium.
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VC Brackett seems not only pleased with the questions some of you have put forth but also the general willingness most of you have to be open and conversational with your new and old allies.
"Ah yes, this is what I like to see among our agents - cooperation! It's not just for our interactions with the general public but for each other, as well," he grins. "Already I've got a good feeling about choosing you six for this particular mission. If you've not got any further questions for me then I'll let you get to it. It'll take you some time to reach Falcon's Hollow and then the logging camp in question from Almas but the rivers are well-traveled and relatively safe, at least."
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While Vosk contemplates his allies' words, several more... nefarious gears begin to turn in his head. Now isn't this juicy! Seems distance from a city doesn't change much in the way the world works. When everyone parts ways to prepare for their expedition into the depths of Northern Andoran, he meanders back to the docks.
Only the susurrus of waves accompanies him as they break along the sturdy architecture of the docks. As he nears a secluded part of the harbor, he's greeted by a man with dark, weathered skin and blonde hair braided down his back from the bow of a ship. "Lushest Eclair," is painted in delicate, blue script. "Captain, which of your quarters shall we prepare for you?"
"I've much writing to do, Sabjorn," he responds. A single order is barked from Sabjorn and the rest of the crew dive into a flurry of activity. Within mere minutes, Vosk is seated in an opulent cabin aboard the Lushest Eclair, and focused on the expensive parchment in front of him. Now, what tale shall we craft today?
He grins devilishly while he works.
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Annea will invite Meredith to accompany her as she offers thanks to the Goddess and asks for her guidance and protection on this upcoming journey. She will find a small group of trees or other place of nature. Absent that she will go down to the beach and make her prayers and offerings there. Annea dons her veil and finger cymbals.
"I Prithee, clear-voiced Muse, and the Four Powers, grant beauty and wonder to our voices as we sing hymns of praise to the Mother of all- of both gods and men. She is well-pleased with the sound of cymbals and of timbrels, with the voice of flutes and the outcry of wolves and bright-eyed lions, with echoing hills and wooded groves. And so hail to you in my song and to all goddesses as well!"
Once you've asked all the questions and shared all of the information you can think of you all part ways - somewhat - and zip around Almas, purchasing supplies and making your preparations to depart. Vosk in particular is very thorough about this, taking the time to study up on the Darkmoon Vale region and to prepare a number of documents that are sure to come in handy if/when you end up needing to deal with the local authorities.
Of course preparation comes in many forms and for Annea, Meredith and Denair, a small ceremony performed in private, beyond Almas' walls, is just what the Goddess(es) ordered.
And after your papers are prepared, your songs have been sung, your supplies acquired, and your packs filled with plenty of cocoa, you all meet up again at the docks to catch the next boat headed upriver to Falcon's Hollow...
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The trip up the River Foam to Falcon's Hollow proves to be a blessedly uneventful - if a bit lengthy. In addition to traveling against the river's flow you also discover that once the river reaches the Wolfrun Hills it passes through a narrow gorge filled with rapids and shallows, necessitating exiting the river and traveling by road for several miles until the rapids are bypassed. Once that happens and you return to the river, it's only another 10 miles or so until you reach your destination.
It's roughly mid-morning when you finally glide up the river and come to a stop at the docks of Falcon's Hollow. If one weren't already aware of the fact you can definitely tell that Falcon’s Hollow is a logging town through and through. Sawmills and lumberyards are the main evidence of the town’s industry, along with dusty, exhausted cutyards filled with stumps. Most of the buildings you can see have log walls, or are finished with wooden siding. The roofs are covered in wooden shingles. The town is rustic and rough-looking for the most part, but some homes feature lovingly wrought ornamentation that shows their owners’ pride - decorative molding, carved cornices, window mullions, and delicate inlays on porch furniture. Around Falcon’s Hollow, the forest flourishes, dark and impenetrable, seemingly eager to claim the lives of those who endlessly assault its borders.
Though VC Brackett urged you to begin your investigations at one particular logging camp - indicated a map you were given - it probably can't hurt to look around the town a little first or at least maybe secure some lodging somewhere.
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"Oh! Oh! If we're sharing stories, I can tell you about when the Boss was the Queen of Thorns." Denair claps along to Annea's prayer and dance. Someone has good taste, at least. It's a nice grove.
"The Boss- I mean Meredith used to be a creature of vines, roses and thorns. She protected her forest from outsiders, and her punishments were considered a bit too wicked."
"Eventually the Court came down and punished her to live the life of the mortals she attacked. I could have went with another fey king but... he's not very nice. So I stayed with her."
"And that's all news that's fit to print!" Denair dances happily as Annea finishes her ceremony.
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Meredith sits quietly as the ceremony continues. To be invited to such a ceremony shows a lot of trust. "I've had to re remember how to trust other people after bandits enslaved me. I led a revolt but I couldn't control it. If it wasn't for Denair- and the Pathfinder Society, honestly- I would have wallowed away, lonely and broken."
"Your ceremony was beautiful, Annea. Thank you." Meredith feels at ease. "Quiet moments like these are nice. Reminds me of a hard day's work at the farm. You just relax a bit and watch the sun set. Not a worry in the world. You can come by and check it out once we're done here."
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Meredith frowns as she sees the fields of tree stump surrounding Falcon's Hollow. "They're taking so much. Wh-what are they doing to help the forest recover? They could at least put saplings in here, or spread their logging efforts so they don't destroy an entire region at once."
So Meredith heads to town to figure out what, if any, conservation efforts they are doing. How difficult is it to acquire resources? How bad are the fey attacks? And the disease, too. How did it affect them?
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Annea is visibly shaken as she views the signs of wanton deforestation.
"Is this what they want? The are destroying, not harvesting. Even farmer who gathers knows that they most also plant and sow."
Responding to Meredith's comments, "This is why the Fey are attacking these monsters. They cut, and cut, and cut... and you are correct they aren't planting saplings or 'thinning out' the forest, they are turning it into a desert."
Is the Society helping destroy the forest? Are we on the wrong side of this? Am I on the wrong side of this...
Though your first glimpse of the town and surrounding area is quite depressing and even distressing for those close to nature, Meredith pushes her discomfort aside as she looks around for a good place to find some information. Given that it's only just mid-morning a lot of the town's citizenry are likely hard at work in the cutyards and lumber mills but perhaps there's...ah hah!
Just across the street from the docks, Meredith spots a large building whose sign features a pair of geese and the words 'Goose 'n' Gander'. Hoping for perhaps a tavern or similar sort of local watering hole, she (and anyone who wishes to accompany her) heads over and peers in.
Oh. It's not a tavern but a general store, which may be the next best thing. The Goose ’n’ Gander is a labyrinthine muddle of winding aisles and precariously balanced shelves stocked with everything someone living on the frontier might require. There is no apparent method to the store’s organization, and you can see a variety of unusual items stocked in among the more usual domestic staples, dried foods, and mining supplies — some of the more noteworthy items include a gourd whose shape resembles a baby, a petrified pseudodragon hollowed out into a lantern, and an unnaturally cold and blood-stained chisel.
It's probably likely that one could find most standard adventuring gear here too...provided you're willing to look around a bit.
Over behind the front counter, a gnome sits dozing. As you enter the shop a door chime rattles loudly and he awakes with a start. He blinks peevishly and then puts on a small set of spectacles and peers at you intently.
"Hrm? Customers? Don't see many of those around here! Especially not new customers. New to Falcon's Hollow, eh? Well, there're better places to be but it's not on me to tell anyone else how to live their life! What can I do for you?"
As Meredith poses a few questions, the gnome's eyes widen and he offers an incredulous laugh. "Conservation efforts? Resources?? Hah! That's a good one! I like your sense of humor."
Then, he pauses as it dawns on him that Meredith is quite serious. "Er...you're not joking, are you? Huh. Well, that's quite noble of you Miss but you're barking up the wrong tree if you think the folks around here give a whit about conservation. It's all most of the folk around here can do to make ends meet and why would the Lumber Consortium care when there's always more forest to log?"
When the conversation turns to talk of a plague, he looks puzzled. "Plague? First I've heard of a plague - unless you mean the lepers and they've been around for ages."
Now dressed in a blue traveling cloak with lilac whorls decorating the inner lining, Vosk looks much more the part of a Pathfinder. Even his rings are stowed safely away, yet the orrery of stones still circle his head. His eyes widen as the Gnome tells the concerned members of his party precisely how out of place their thoughts and feelings are. Was going to share the same points about the townsfolk with them, thankfully the Gnome beat me to the punch. People care about others when they no longer have to care about the bare essentials for themselves. He runs a hand over his balding head.
"Well, good sir, we're just passing through! We assessed that this would be a prime location to learn a little more about Falcon's Hollow and we were correct indeed! Furthermore, if you don't mind additional questions, might I inquire where the best bakery in town resides? And lodgings for a night or two," he asks. If he knows what is good for him, he'll take the opportunity to shift the focus of this conversation. I doubt my current associates are going to be feeling cordial after that!
Denair hasn't been very chatty since they approached the town. There's a difference between gathering resources to survive and wholesale slaughter. The tension between Falcon's Hollow and her own world makes perfect sense now.
In other towns, Denair is a curiosity. An odd mix between a wooden tree and a fuzzy fox who speaks of strange worlds. But here she's seen as a ferocious animal, kept on a leash by her Master.
Meredith takes a few deep breaths. Denair knows when the Boss is mad, and this level of ignorance is the kind of talk that set the Queen of Thorns off.
Luckily the big man is here and changes subject. "Somewhere with a warm fire would be nice." She pipes up.
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Serge regards the gnome and his... inventory with a nervous look on his face. He was more of a classic give me your best sword kind of person for than someone who might appreciate a gourd whose shape resembles a baby. Still, he could think of one traveling companion who might be interested in the strange goods. "Frankie, did you see the dragon lantern the vendor has? It is quite unique and, 'cool', as you might say, in its design."
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Quang Chi actually enjoys perusing the stacks of shops and markets just like this. Even though he nearly never buys anything, they remind him of the wet markets and hawker stalls crammed into alleyways back home. The things one can discover in places like these sometimes rival what one can discover out in the wilderness.
He slowly squeezes through the choked and narrow aisles as he listens with half an ear to Vosk and the gnome. That is until he comes upon an eerie and foreboding sight. An iron chisel, stained with blood rests upon a clean quilted blanket haphazardly tossed over a crate of torches. The blood glistens as if still wet, but there are no stains upon the blanket and it's clear they've both been there for some time.
He reaches out to toward the chisel and tries to sense if it is magic. He also checks to see if there is poison on it or in the blood itself. The air around the strange tool is cold - just slightly colder than it should be - and his fingers flinch back reflexively.
"Apologies for the interruption, but what is this? And why does it..."
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As Serge attempts to point out some of the oddities to Frankie, Annea is unable to contain herself, "Unique and cool? Really? Who would do such a thing? Pseudo-dragons are intelligent magical creatures who aren't a danger to anyone. Who would buy, let alone sell this sort of vile contraband? I am surprised they aren't selling earrings made from pixie wings or drinking horns made from a unicorn."
In Sylvan Annea will address the gnome, "You are a gnome aren't you? A creature descended from the First World... a distant cousin of the Fey creatures who live in these woods?"
Returning to the common tongue, "I understand if the people suffer and show very little for their labor... but isn't that more of an issue of the oppression enacted by the Consortium, rather than the creatures of the woods? And, as far as there being 'always more forest to log' only the small minded think such things are true."
Focusing her attention to the gnome and meeting his gaze, "I can see you are sympathetic to both the people of this town and the creatures of the forest. Who's responsible for the trouble here? Is the Consortium as diabolical an organization as I have heard it is?"
"Bakery? There isn't one as such but you could always visit the Low Market," the gnome replies. He eyes the portly Vosk and adds, "Don't think it'll be quite the sort of fare you're used to, mind, but maybe you'll luck out and catch a batch of good leftovers from the High Market."
"Otherwise, you'd be best off visiting the Jak-a'-Napes if you want a hot meal and a place to sleep. It doesn't look like much but Jak's a good sort and he's always got a warm welcome for visitors and townies alike."
Here, the gnome leans across the counter. "Not to mention the best cinnamon-crusted flapjacks this side of the Foam! Only makes 'em once a week and folks line up all the way around the building and halfway down the thoroughfare for taste. If you're still knocking around in a couple of days you should definitely give them a try. Just thinking about it is making my mouth water," he adds, licking his lips.
The shopkeeper looks like he could go on at length about Jak's famous flapjacks but when Quang Chi politely inquires about the strange chisel his eyes widen.
"Don't touch that!"
He scurries out from around the counter and hurries over to the shelf where the chisel sits. As he does, he pulls a small polishing cloth out from his pocket and gingerly uses it to pick the bloond-stained implement up. "Dear me, I thought I had put this one away! That could have been ugly indeed," he huffs, shaking his head.
"It's cursed," the gnome explains. "Supposedly it once belonged to sculptor in Almas who would murder and then use his victims as inspiration for his works. Don't know if it's true or not but it's definitely cursed, that much is for certain."
And Quang Chi *does* detect a magical aura coming from the scalpel, so there may be some truth to the gnome's words.
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As the gnome carefully moves the cursed scalpel to what's hopefully a safer place behind the counter, he glances over at Annea as she demonstrates a notable lack of appreciation for some of the stranger items on display.
"Miss, these items come to me from a lot of different sources. Not saying I condone turning critters into cups or anything like that but if the deed's already long-since been done by someone else, why not make the most of it and turn a little profit where I can?"
But as Annea's questions - and choice of languages - grow more pointed, the gnome sighs and removes his spectacles. "Okay, look - you're clearly not ordinary travelers or even ordinary adventurers. What's your game? The Lumber Consortium basically owns this town and nearly everyone in it. The only ones they don't own are the ones they don't think are worth worrying about."
"And personally? I don't know that you'll ever find any fey that'd be happy with logging activity...but are there some that'd be willing to compromise? Sure, if the offer actually seemed sincere."
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Meredith exhales. This gnome wasn't the cause of her discomfort. He was the bearer of bad news, but that's no reason to punish or target him.
"That does make a lot of sense. Who wants their home destroyed? Clearly this is a bit more complicated than we anticipated. We're here to investigate one cursed item that is deep in the Darkwood. The sooner we find it, the sooner it can stop infecting the fey who live there. And if we don't find it, it will spread to Falcon's Hollow itself."
"So, it's for everyone's benefit we get rid of that thing. That's why we're so... inquisitive."
"Anyone we should look out for when we head to the logging site? As you can see we could blunder into someone who isn't as patient as you."
Meredith chooses her words carefully. Any potential ally would help immensely. Plus he can feel like a hero in his own special way if he contributed to stopping a plague!
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As the gnome scurries off with the chisel, Quang Chi watches him carefully to see what else he's not saying about it. Or about the situation in general.
"As you say, we are clearly 'not from around here.'" he points out, letting his Tien accent come through a little more heavily than normal.
"But there seems to be too many cursed things here for a town of this size." He nods at Meredith's explanation and follows up, "Perhaps we should focus on the cursed thing and the disease. As a start."
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"Not to mention how much more money you could make, or, perhaps, what leverage you'd have to better yourself in the eyes of the Lumber Consortium after you've had a hand in saving the town, eh? Come now, my good friend, surely you know a few people?" Vosk says, putting an arm around the Gnome and pulling him in for a cozy side hug. "What's your name, anyways? Maybe we can put in a good word too, if the opportunity arises."
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Frankie's been pretty silent. He grasped Denny's hand as soon as he saw the fields of cut trees. This place is sad, I don't like it, not one bit. He holds her hand in a tight grip, keeping an eye on Meredith as well.
Inside the store he's quickly distracted by Serge and the pseudodragon "Huh, cool lizard thingy." He looks up with a start though as the gnome mentions flap jacks. "Oooo I love those! I brought my own syrup!" He drags out a sticky mini waterskin that drips syrup across the floor like a 'yellow brick road' for ants. He pays no mind to it but does offer up a taste to the gnome.
"Wanna try some Mr Gnome?" He smiles and holds it out, still dripping a bit.
"Anyone we should look out for when we head to the logging site? As you can see we could blunder into someone who isn't as patient as you."
The gnome's eyebrows shoot right up as Meredith explains the group's reason for being in town and he utters a low whistle. "A plague among the fey?? This is the first I've heard of it, but that doesn't really surprise me - even the friendlier of the fey are very secretive about their business. And...now I see why you're asking about the Lumber Consortium."
He glances around, as if to make sure no one is listening, and lowers his voice. "Between you and me, it wouldn't surprise me a bit if they had something to do with it all! Much more convenient to let a disease do the dirty work for you, eh?"
"As for anyone to watch out for...well, depends on which site you're heading to..."
"...oh. Well. I'm pretty sure that site's handled by Zender Fulch and that's not a good thing. He lost an ear to a nixie back in the day and he's held a pretty deep grudge for the fey ever since. Not my business to know how or why you've been told to go check that site in particular but whoever your information source is, they know their stuff."
"What's your name, anyways? Maybe we can put in a good word too, if the opportunity arises."
The gnome puffs out his chest. "The name's Brickasnurd Hildrinsocks. Only gnome in the whole of Falcon's Hollow so I'm hard to miss!"
He seems to be enjoying both the attention and the unique distraction your arrival in his shop has provided.
"Anyway, hmm. Hmm-hmm. If you're going to be messing about with a plague, you should probably know that the only two people that *might* be able to help are Laurel over at 'Roots and Remedies' and Lady Cirthana over at the Temple of Iomedae," Brickasnurd continues. "But - and this is just us talking here - I'd put my health in Laurel's hands first. Not that Cirthana is a bad sort, no, not at all! Just...well, Kreed's poisoned the well of public opinion there so most folks take their sickness and ailments to Laurel. And I hate to say it but most folks don't have much use for the Inheritor - or any other gods - way out here either."
Brickasnurd pauses, as though trying to think of anything else to share. As he does, Frankie holds up his watersyrupskin to the gnome for a taste. The gnome blinks at Frankie for a moment and then laughs.
"You folks are full of surprises, aren't you? Certainly, I'll have a taste - but just a little! You need to save the rest for those flapjacks," he winks.
After observing the gnome for a bit and listening to him as he speaks to your teammates you're quite confident that he's being honest and forthright in his answers. He's also certainly enjoying this bit of intrigue that your arrival has brought - not particularly surprising for a gnome - even though his unease, maybe even fear, regarding the Lumber Consortium is also quite real.