Dot here!
The invitation delivered last night was remarkably simple, especially given the importance of the occasion:
“Start where it all began. Meet us at the Pig’s Paunch one hour before dawn.”
The Pig’s Paunch is a run-down building with a faded sign of a large pig standing on its hind legs, arms folded above a corpulent belly. Inside, the air is thick with the scents of human sweat, stale tobacco, and leftover food. In the center of the room, surrounded by inebriates sleeping off their revelries, a familiar elven man stands high upon top of a large round table.
“Welcome! Welcome, my students! Please, have a seat!” With that, Kreighton Shaine, the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Scrolls, nimbly drops down to sit cross-legged on the table before looking about the tavern with a sense of reverent wonder. “Can you believe it? It all started here years ago—well, over four hundred of them at least. Under this very roof the Pathfinder Society was born.
“But today! Today you will begin your Confirmation! Master Farabellus, Master Zey, and I all agree you each have shown your worth and dedication to the Society, so there’s no better time to see if you can handle becoming full field operatives. Allow me to introduce you to Janira Gavix,” he says as he motions for an excitable halfling woman to approach. She wears a large backpack and carries all manner of tools, pouches, and scroll cases around her waist. Shaine continues, saying, “Janira here will be going with you on your Confirmation. She was one of my brightest pupils and will no doubt be an invaluable resource on your journey, for she discovered the caves you are about to explore during her own Confirmation.”
Janira speaks up in an enthusiastic and cheerful voice, “Greetings, aspiring Pathfinders! Six months ago, while I was mapping cave entrances in the foothills of the Kortos Mounts, I witnessed a lone gillman entering a concealed cave. I thought little of it at the time, but I saw another one enter the cave again a month later as my Confirmation stretched on. A few days later, after I completed my assigned task, I entered the cave system, but was unable to find the gillmen.”
Master Shaine hops to his feet. “Initiates, for your Confirmation, you will travel to these caves to explore and document its many passages. Additionally, and most importantly, you are to learn what the gillmen are up to in there. Oh, and you need to come back alive as well.” With these parting words, the Master of Scrolls jumps off the table and strolls out of the building while humming to himself.
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Ah, the Low Azlanti, the gillmen are an amphibious humanoid race believed to be the last descendants of the ancient Azlanti people, you know. During Earthfall, the Starstone struck Golarion and destroyed the human empires of Thassilon and Azlant. It is said that gillmen’s ancestors survived the cataclysmic event because they received the blessing of an aquatic entity that allowed them to breath underwater.
Culsar pauses and speaks again. Of course, I don't know about this blessing stuff. Could be nonsense.
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As Culsar begins to recall the ancient histories of the Azlanti and Thassilon empires, Bobbette poses questions using her knowledge of the subject, probing further his memory, teasing out the knowledge hidden at the back of his mind. Her time in the libraries of Cheliax not wasted in this instance.
"So to the Kortos Mounts, the foothills to the islands highest mountains, to view the island for above, in the cool clear crystal air of the peaks." she says wistfully remembering her home.
See tilts her head to the side, "We'll need a scribe, does anyone have skills to map the caverns, or does Miss Gavix have that ability?" Bobbette asks.
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"It will be Izotu Hry's pleasure to make a visit to such an old and interesting people." says the uncharacteristically older man among the group, dressed in colorfully beaded garments and a warm smile, he bows his head graciously. "And to visit the Isle of Kortos with such a learned group...a pleasure indeed!"
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Culsar remembers another piece of information about the subject. There are those that believe the terrifying aboleths were responsible for the gillmen’s transformation. Any alliance between them appears to have fallen apart over the millennia, however, and the gillmen are now an independent people. For what that is worth considering the matter we have at hand, I do not know. Perhaps we could ask one.
Janira smiles at the assembled group's apparent love for sharing information. She smirks at Bobbette's question, though. "Of course I can make maps and take notes, but the role of a Pathfinder is to keep track of that for yourselves! You'll never get into the Pathfinder Chronicles if you let someone else record your journey. I would encourage you all to take notes of anything important that happens. Here," she says, digging around in her bag. She withdraws and and metes out paper and writing supplies to everyone who lacks such things. "I ask that you turn in your notes to Master Shaine after we're done. I'm sure he'll appreciate it--and while you may not be the best writer, it's the effort that count!"
She turns to Aryn to answer her concerns about the gillmen. "The gillmen are somewhat secretive, but not outright hostile. No more than any other humanoid, anyway."
Janira pulls out a large leather-bound journal and opens it on the table. “Before we set out, we should all get to know each other and review our plan. After all, the most important factors that determine whether an expedition will be a success are cooperation and preparation! I’ll go first!
"My name is Janira Gavix, and I joined the Pathfinders about four years ago when I came of age. I grew up in Eastgate, and I'm the oldest of seven. I signed up with the Society to travel the world and taste all the fine foods it had to offer, but I quickly took to the Scrolls and its focus on learning and preserving knowledge. I'm hoping to get published in the Pathfinder Chronicles someday, and become a Pathfinder Chronicler.
"Although I mostly worked with Master Shaine, I've picked up some tricks from the Master of Swords and the Master of Spells as well. I hope I can pass on a little bit of what they've taught me to you as well! Guess you never grow out of being the biggest sister, huh?" she jokes, straightening her posture to stand at her full height of two feet ten inches. "In any case, I've been on quite a few missions since my own Confirmation, but this is the first time I've been in charge of leading one.
"What about all of you? What made you want to join the Pathfinder Society?" she asks, her eyes kind and expectant as she looks around the would-be Pathfinders before her.
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"I'm Aryn Seavon, pleased to meet you. A friend of mine works for the Silver Crusade. I served the army for exactly 50 years before I decided I was up for a change. I decided I wanted to join the Silver Crusade as well." When Aryn mention serving the army for exactly 50 years, some might wonder how. Aryn looks like a human woman in her mid-twenties. Those who've met aasimar before might know how some of them don't look too different from humans, especially when born as the child of two humans.
If a person were to name anything unusual about Aryn it would probably be her hair. Aryn's hair had slowly turned white between the ages of 14 and 15, and looks like silver in the sunlight. Also Aryn's skin is rather pale, but that isn't anything unusual. Her eyes are a bright, though common, blue.
"I look forward to working with all of you," Aryn says, showing a bright smile to those who've gathered.
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"Well met, Janira Gavix! What can Izotu Hyr say? Izotu Hyr is Izotu Hyr. Songs of Izotu Hyr's people come from the mountains and the horse's hoof. Izotu Hyr carries them here." The tall man with leathery-tan skin places a hand over his heart.
"Izotu Hyr is excited to travel the lands and share the song's of the rain and warrior. Izotu Hyr wants to hear the people's songs too. Izotu Hyr is pleased the Pathfinder Society will help Izotu Hyr hear the song's of many people." the old man finishes with a broad smile and twinkle in his eye.
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"Izotu Hyr would be delighted to sing a song for you, Aryn Seavon. This one is from Izotu Hyr's home near a great river. It is a song about how the river runs to the mountains."
The human straightens to his full height of over six feet and then purposefully slumps his shoulders. He looks straight ahead without emotions and begins to sing in a deep, foreign dialect.
"Huuuuuuum BHUuuuuurrrr Masmuuuuurrrrr Humtum High Borgsum Shall duuuum sure...."
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Bobbete starts "When in my homeland, known to you as 'The Land of the Mammoth Lords', I was joined in my fights against the invading demons by great warriors from Cheliax. I journeyed with them to Egorian to learn more knowledge to defeat the demons from the Abyss and learn of the power of Asmodeus. The mercenaries I fought with, did introduce me to some men and women who I later learned were Pathfinders. They encouraged me, to join to further my travels and fight the demons of the Worldwound once more. Hence my journey to Absalom and to prove myself in this 'The Confirmation'. For the glory of the Pathfinders and Cheliax."
Janira smiles and pays close attention to each Initiate's introduction. She smirks a little bit at Attilio and Culsar, though. "Come now," she lightly chastises, "I can respect your desire for privacy, but a Pathfinder has three very clear duties: 'Explore, Report, Cooperate.' I'm not asking you to reveal anything about your past if you don't wish to--certainly Pathfinders come from many places, some less accepted than other--but at least tell us a little bit about you abilities! These missions can be dangerous, and if you can't rely on your fellow Pathfinders in a scrap (or rely on them to prevent one!), you may be taking your secrets to your grave."
The Halfling woman glances at a clock on the wall. "Besides, we have a little bit of time still. I'm expecting one more initiate, but perhaps they overslept..."
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The young man is exceptionally pale for a half-elf, with hair such a light grey that it is nearly white. He carries morningstar at his side, but it is the bow on his back that appears to receive the most attention from the snowborn.
I never intended to be cagey about my past, or about my abilities. I am simply unused to anyone expressing an interest in either.
I grew up in Korvosa with my father. When he wasn't in jail, he kept us fed with whatever criminal activity he thought of - usually banditry. It got him killed a few years ago, and one of his "friends" gave me his cut of their blood money. I gave the money away, but I kept the bow because it was originally my mother's. With Irori's help, and the Pathfinder training programs, I've taught myself to fight, and can shoot my mother's bow passably well.
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Bobbette replies to Culsar, "A witch you say, then we have much in common and you have the devils blood in you." She continues as if making a factual statement, there is no doubt in her voice, "We will work well together Culsar." She extends the hand of friendship, "No doubt we have much to discuss about our craft."
She looks and nods to the others assembled, "It is good we work as one."
The Halfling smiles approvingly as the two more taciturn men open up a bit. "Thanks much, fellas. As long as you follow our rules, everyone with the ability and the desire can join the Pathfinders. It's good to have you, sincerely," she assures the tiefling.
"I'm sure there will be time for more songs, Izotu!" Janira agrees quickly. "I think we've waited for our last Initiate for quite long enough, I'll just get her up to speed when she shows up. On to the details of the mission at hand,” she says with an eager grin. “After reviewing my mission reports personally, Master Shaine believes it is no coincidence that each time they entered the caves it was during a full moon, so it is also no coincidence that you have been called here now, just a day before the moon is full again. We both believe that tomorrow night is our best chance to find out why these caves are important and what exactly the gillmen are doing in there.
“The caves we’ll be travelling to lie under the base of the Kortos Mounts. We’ll need to spend every minute of daylight possible to reach the caves by foot, crossing over the Cairnlands, taking the paths to Diobel, and finally making our way through the wilderness. With any luck we won’t run into any of the local inhabitants. Once in the caves, we’ll need to work together to explore and determine whether any gillman are present or have been recently. Keep an eye out for any other clues that might hint at the caves’ significance, too.
"Any questions?"
“Centaurs control the lowlands and surrounding wilderness of the Kortos Mounts. The areas farther up the Mounts are controlled by minotaurs, and the icy peaks are home to tribes of harpies. They’re always vying for territory, but with any luck, we should be able to avoid them and reach the caves without conflict.”
"Not that I know of, no," Janira answers. "For that matter, I have no reason to believe this has anything to do with lycanthropy either, despite the full moon."
Harpies resemble feral human women with tattered wings and large talons. They are cruel and devious creatures, often using their captivating magical voice to lure victims (their favorites are sentient beings) off cliffs or into other hazards, so that they may kill and devour them.
Janira mulls over Izotu's question, rubbing her chin in thought. "I'm not really sure how rugged the inside of the caverns is. I don't know if you'll need particularly special equipment, but I never saw any of the Gillmen who walked in carrying a lot of climbing gear. That said, they are Gillmen, so it's possible there may be significant sources of water. It's hard to say."
She shakes her head at Aryn. "No, no special weakness. Hopefully we'll simply manage to avoid such creatures, but our greatest asset is our numbers; I think you'll find that few beasts can overcome proper teamwork!" she exclaims with a smile.
"Now, if there are no more questions, we should take a moment to look through your gear and make sure nothing important gets left out," she asserts, gesturing for each Initiate to show their equipment.
She nods at the gear everyone's brought. "Looks good, you all seem fairly well prepared. You seem a little light on illumination--ha! sorry, no pun intended there--as well as healing magic. Perhaps those of you with some magical talent can compensate, though. You also don't seem to have anything effective against swarms: they are not to be underestimated! Some initiates have failed their Confirmations because they didn't have a flask of alchemist's fire or acid, and had to run from territorial masses of bats or rats or who-knows-what. If you have the extra funds, I recommend picking some up, especially if you lack the power to create waves of fire (or anything else) through magic or other means.
"I think we'll wait just a smidge longer for the last initiate--sometimes people have a little trouble finding this place, I suppose."
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The rude sound of a loud belch rises above din of the crowd. Its source, an obese and scantily-clad women who looks at least half-orc, sits at a table in the corner of the Pig’s Paunch. Before her is what looks the remains of five suppers. She wipes her greasy, jagged-toothed mouth on her massive, naked arm then smiles at you.
"I am Vogma. I bring axe. When you ready, I go. We kill gillmen, minotaurs, centaurs, and caverns. Then we come back, okay?"
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"Uhhh..." is the only sound that initially comes from Aryn's mouth as she stares at the half-naked, obese, bad-mannered and greasy half-orc.
Gorum, have you forsaken me? We're doomed with this aboard.
"Hi... how are you...?" Aryn manages to ask after half a minute has passed.
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Vogma looks at Aryn Seavon with suspicion, squinting at her tell-tale signs of angelkin heritage. After a few moments of gawking, Vogma picks up a half-full wine bottle and empties its contents in four gulps. She carefully places the bottle next to three empty ones next to her feet then speaks to Aryn Seavon in orc-accented Taldan.
"How am I? I am ready to fight for glory. This Pathfinder Society? It send us for free. We battle, then we come back. Good deal. You ready?"
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No, on both accounts. Why would you ask either? Culsar says sharply. If you had been paying attention rather than eating utensils you'd have realized that we just met and were rather cordial about it.
Culsar seems a bit put off by both the mannerisms and the appearance of the newest member of the party. What cage did she break out of? Stronger bars are needed, obviously.
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Ho! Ho! Well met, Vogma! Hopefully blood shed will not be necessary. But, if it is, Izotu Hyr believes you would be a very good friend to have on our side. The old man smiles as he talks to the new arrival. Izotu Hyr agrees with you that we should return to sing of our victory.