Fresh off of their resounding success in the port city of Diobel, the intrepid group of pathfinder intiates have found themselves rushed into another mission of critical importance following the wake of the attack of the Aspis Consortium on the Grand Lodge.
It seems that their original confirmation mission has been scrubbed, and Valsin has fast tracked their acceptance as full agents, using their deeds in Diobel as the justification.
With this stamp of approval and the resources of the society open to them as full fledged agents, the group has been whisked off to the bustling hive of Katapesh.
Venture-Captain Wulessa Yuul has requested a hand-picked crew who has shown the capability to get the job done, and Valsin has responded.
The air is hot, and does not move in the bustling city. The pathfinders hold in their hands the request to meet with the Venture Captain in the Farseer Tower, and they pick their way through the city to get there.
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Bugdip appears, arms covered in what appear to be wires, but at later inspection turn out to be string. "Who would have thought that we'd be going somewhere so far afield as Katapesh?" he mutters, still trying to detangle himself.
Bugdip had done an almost passable job of sailing this time, only getting stuck in the rigging once on the whole trip.
"Any idea where this Farseer Tower is?" he asks his friends, "My skin is beginning to feel very dry."
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Hot...
But at least it's dry. Humidity would make wearing the mask quite uncomfortable. Now the weather is almost bearable, as long Tybain keeps in the shadows.
"...TER..."
Tybain hears Bugdip discomfort, and offers the grippli his waterskin. Then he pulls his hood deeper to shield his mask from the sun, and tries to look for Farseer Tower. Or any tower that might pass as one.
But it's sure nice to be travelling
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Standing in front of the gates to this massive city, Glarifyur stretches his arms and his back makes a rather sickening popping sound.
"Ooh! But did that feel great!
After learning he would be traveling to the hot, arid desert of Katapesh, Glarifyur put a thin layer of furs between his skin and the clothing under his banded mail. He knew that his sweat would not evaporate through the treated hide and would instead rest in the light fur lining, keeping him cool under all that steel.
"Must we rush off to Farseer Tower, or do any of you fellows fancy a drink somewhere?"
Ever since leaving Absalom with his Pathfinder credentials and so many familiar faces at his side, Glarifyur was in an uncommonly good mood.
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The youth stops to look skyward at the blazing golden orb beaming heat and light upon the city. Taking a moment to adjust the brim of his hat, he protects his gaze from the most direct rays falling upon them, but cannot stop his eyes from squinting as the light bounces off every object in sight, creating a blurry glow about his vision of the desert metropolis.
"A full fledged mission," he says to no one in particular. "In a far off land."
"Striding through the desert."
Edgar turns to see the dried parchment appearance of Bugdip's skin.
"And burning up in this heat..."
The youth now turns to Glarifyur, and nodding in agreement, begins to speak. "Yes, let's get something cool to drink. That may help us out," he takes a moment to secure his gear about himself, checking the cinching of his backpack straps, then makes sure his yellow scarf is securely covering the lower part of his face. "I think I'll have a cool glass of water, if we can manage."
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A small gnome is dun colored robes walks in, darkwood buckler strapped to one arm.
As he walks in, he seems to stomp each time his feet strike the earth, causing small dust clouds to float around his heels.
Random patches of stubble appear around his mouth, chin, and cheekbones.
He walks right up to Glarifyur, "Well met Brother. I am Nugats. Glad to meet a fellow dwarf. What is with the toad thingy by Torag's beard!"
Nugats stands astride Glarifyur, arms folded, feel splayed, stroking his beard in perfect imitation.
"I could go with a stout Five Mountain Porter myself. Something with a frothy head in a cool, dwarven crafted pewter mug. Perhaps a game of cards, or dice. What is your fancy, brother?"
A feminine figure pokes her head from around one of the street vendor's set-ups and smiles seductively at the gathered group. Her face is covered by a scarf, but not much else on her body is. She wiggles her hips and belly, swaying her arms in a way that makes the scarves attached to her hands swirl in a mezmorizing fashion.
"Just down the street you will find a very special Bazaar in this city. The merchants are food and drink vendors, and enough games to make the luckiest of men rich, if Desna is with you!" she giggles playfully, then disappears in the crowd.
As the pathfinders make their way down the street, the looming Farseer tower straight ahead in the distance, they break into a small courtyard in the winding streets. The open space is jammed with colorful open-sided tents, tables, and humanoids of nearly every shape and size.
A wild roar of laughter erupts to the pathfinder's left as a table cheers on a stereotypical dwarf as he tries to outdrink and out armwrestle the burly half-orc across the table from him.
Just ahead and to the right another scarf wrapped, scantily-clad human woman dances amongst several gathered drinkers. The pathfinders are surprised to see her hands appear to be the heads of snakes, until they realize that the woman has a viper coiled around each arm. Looking closer, the game seems to be a baudy twist on the snake hypnotizing. Suddenly a gnome jumps up and screams, clutching his face. The others laugh and around them a burst of commotion accompanies several fist fulls of coins changing hands.
"Welcome to the Oasis gentlemen." says a three-toothed, turbin wearing old man. "Come here come here don't be shy. I have many drinks and refreshments to quench your thirst and lift your spirits. Perhaps the local favorite, a Katapeshi sandstorm? Sparkling, dry red wine with a hint of desert flower notes for a more refined palate? Or perhaps you need a little pick me up? How about some Hair of the Gnoll? We use our finest espresso roast in the fermenting process for a porter that will give you energy and a buzz that will last all day!"
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"Do you have any fruit juice that hasn't been fermented?" asks Bugdip without thinking, licking his nostril holes in order to cover them with mucus and mask the smell, "... umm... I mean, Chelish red... please? If you don't... have that, then... anything... that smells of... cat's piss."
Bugdip takes a seat at the table and prays to Nethys that no-one heard his fruit juice request.
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"Well met barkeep. None of those sound like drinks from my homeland, the Five Kings Mountains. Do you have an ale or some stout drink similar? We dwarves can drink and drink, unlike these lesser races. Right my friend Glarifyur! One for me and one for my brother dwarf."
"Ha FRUIT JUICE. What a silly choice boy. You need something that will turn you manly, into a fierce warrior not some pansy wine for sissies. Come let Nugats show you how it is done. Barkeep add a third for Bugdip!"
Retrieving the foaming mugs from the barkeep and distributing them, Nugats tips the tankard to his mouth and begins to drink in great gulps. The beer it too much and runs down the corners of his mouth in rivulets, soaking his robes in two-wet trails, and forming a small puddle beneath him.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he belches in a squeaky voice. "That is what the beard is for, saving it for a quick quip later. So, who would like to play some cards? We can play whatever you like, though I am familiar with Pusoy Dos, Red Nines, Bartok, well really everything." he ends in a guffaw as he flicks the cards from one hand to the other.
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Having traveled south along the western coast of Taldor from port to port, Katapesh is now the destination for the new rogue adventurer; quite a long way from his home in Cassomir.
At least there are plenty of gambling tables to earn a living and beautiful women to conquest along this trip, otherwise I would have been bored to tears with all this travel.
As the daylight breaks, Vorathan rises before his barmaid companion stirs and performs his standard goodbye procedure by collecting his gear and sneaking out of her apartment without being noticed.
As he's just on the last steps towards the door, a squeaky floor board causes the sleeping lass to stir slightly. Freezing in place, Vorathan halts until she is fast asleep then makes his way out the door. Once outside, reaching into his belt pouch, he produces a letter and his mirror. After making most careful inspection to ensure his neatly trimmed beard is not in need of a touch up, his attention turns to the letter which reads: Meet the Pathfinders in The Oasis in Katapesh.
Simple enough!
Vorathan's father, who had first introduced the ways of the Pathfinders to him, had arranged a meeting in order to gain entrance into the Society after hearing of the recent attacks on the Grand Lodge. This was his chance to become a true Pathfinder.
What a pick up line that's gonna be! Hello darling, I'm a Pathfinder, know any damsels in distress needing to be rescued?
As he enters The Oasis, the bustle of merriment enhances his smile, looking around he first spots a mirror, confirms his charm is working, eyes a few potential damsels to rescue and finally sees a group of Dwarfs with other interesting characters playing cards.
The only thing I like a much as women...
Vorathan approaches the group and says to the Dwarves, "Oz my fine friends eron mighty Trumm Nar Beoir! Zal E chair Yoth me oz join da game?"
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Glarifyur takes a long, deep pull from the stout ale. It's bitter; almost piney with a smooth, chocolate and coffee finish.
"Why, this could be one of the best brews I have had since I was home! Thank you, Nugats!"
Though I know he is a gnome, not a dwarf, I sense in him an unusually strong connection with the earth beneath him. And he seems to venerate Torag. If he fancies himself a dwarf, who am I to challenge it?
Glarifyur laughs heartily and clangs his mug against Nugats' as he takes another large drink from his swiftly-lightening mug of stout.
"Oy, there, Bugdip, if yer not in the mood for that stout, let ol' Glory Fur take it off yer hands!
He smiles wide and genuinely and raises his mug to Bugdip for a toast with the Grippli and his fruit juice.
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Bugdip looks doubtfully at the proffered ale and gives it an experimental sniff. "Yeasted grains?" he regards Nugats and Glarifyur with a worries expression on his face, "It smells... poisonous." When the others take a drink, and before Glarifyur can steal it from him, he gives it a go himself and chugs it down in one long gulp.
No sooner has the liquid touched the grippli's stomach does his amphibian anatomy find a way to rapidly propel it out again.
Bugdip tries to catch it in his mug, but just manages to reflect the spray back on himself. "Oh dear..." he begins before sealing his lips together lest more pour forth.
"Why does vomit always seem to have chunks of beetle in it?" Bugdip asks when he has himself under control, "I can't even remember the last time I ate beetle..."
Despite the toothy grinned, sweaty man's penchant for a good poker face, he cannot hide his revulsion first at Bugdip's request for feline smelling wine. The look is quickly wiped from his face however, and he moves to begin pouring his wares to his new customers.
When he comes back with the ale's in hand, he sets a glass of a deep red wine with small bubbles coming up in the middle. It appears this vendor things Bugdip too dense to notice he just poured him the 'sparkling red wine' anyways.
"Bah! Who is going to clean this mess up! We don't serve frogs here no more, begone! BEGONE!" the man shouts, flustered and red-faced as he flits around the pathfinders.
Several tables away, a charming and vain man approaches a table full of six dwarves, all armed to the teeth. One of them turns to look at Vorathan as he stands there, beaming.
"Дұрыс үстел Bum ! Мен ақыл бар тоғысуы бұрын кетуге және сіздің артқы аяғында менің етік тазалаңыз . Менің сәттілік бар свинчивание ."
The crafty rogue realizes in a hurry that he has approached the wrong table, and sees the Grippli out of the corner of his eye that he was told would be in the group he was working with.
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"If you'll just refrain from kicking me out..." Bugdip objects, "I can clean it up myself..."
"Prestidigitation," the grippli intones quickly, ensuring a small area of the bar becomes spotless.
"I never figured out where the mess goes, I just know that it doesn't come back," he assures the bar keep, "Want me to keep going, or would you rather use a rag?"
The shopkeeper changes his attitude in an almost unnatural quickness, suddenly flashing his best smile.
"Bugdip? Is that your name my friend? Come with me good... ah... frog. I have many things you can do for me. I could even pay you. Yes, you and I will be great friends! What do you say. Keep doing that for me, and I'll give you 2... no.. copper a d... week. Yes. Very generous no? You will soon see that I am a very generous man." The drink salesman smiles his 3 toothed smile, putting the charm on as thick as he can.
Behind them a well dressed, and even better groomed man hurries up with the sound of laughing and raucous dwarves erupting behind him. He arrives at the same time as a young lady, dressed in thin and flowing silken scarves. Her face is elegantly decorated with make-up, and covered in a translucent silken veil.
"Pardon me sirs, but would you like to play a little game? It is a wonderful game full of excitement, danger, and the chance to win enough gold to drink yourself silly!" She jiggles her shoulders a little as she laughs, making other parts of her body wiggle just right.
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"You will have to remind me," Bugdip begins, "How many copper pieces per gold piece? I've got almost five hundred of the gold ones from last week's activities... so... how many weeks would I have to work for you at three copper per week to earn this much gold?"
Bugdip likes the sound of the other man's proposition much better, so he finishes clearing the bar of his vomit (neglecting his own clothing) and hops over to the swindler, his fat coin pouch bouncing merrily against his thigh. "Excuse me, miss... but I think one of your mammaries has come loose from its bindings. I remember another of your species having similar issues... but she was much meaner and nastier than you."
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Having no sense of personal space, Bugdip finds a seat that is uncomfortably close to the enchanting woman with the disorderly mammaries . He plays along, trying his best for a grab at it .
Bugdip gets badly bitten on his first attempt but Nethys is sleeping with Desna this day, as his prayers for fortune are answered on his subsequent grabs!
The voluptous woman leans down and smiles at the grippli, allowing her mammaries to dangle tantilizingly in front of his bulbous eyes.
"You are so good at this!" she giggles, then turns that giggle into a pouty face. "Pity the viper got you the first time. I can see how great you are though, you should try again once the other boys have had their chance!" she says with excitement while deftly pocketing a few of the gold coins Bugdip was just telling the drink vendor about.
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This is not gambling. At least not how we dwarves do it.
Nugats walks up the table of dwarves, refilled tankard in hand. "Ho brothers! Did you see that toad puke all over the place! Why I haven't seen anything so funny since my friend Kasmir stole his father's moonshine, got drunk, and tried to make me a warhammer out of pig-iron. he had to walk around with his arm in a sling for a week?
"So where are you all from? I'm from the Five Kings Mountains. Oh, nice! Did you see that. He got all the buttons. Though on a lsss like her, I'd rather miss! Be right back - don't drink too much." Placing his tankard on the table, Nugats gets close to the dancing girl. Watching her hypnotic swaying, he tries to time his grab just right.
" Damn snake." Walking back to the table, "Did you see that? Success! Worth it to grab a boob like that one."
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"Менің кешірім жақсы бородатый сэр, маған Кайден қажы сіздің сусындар және бұру сәттілік менің кетер."
Vorathan takes his leave post haste before the Dwarves, he obviously upset, show him any further distaste of his presence . No sooner does he about face when he notices a sensually prancing vixen near a table where it appears a frog-man seemed to have chundered his ale everywhere with one breath out and slurped it all back in making the filth disappear with another.
Look for the Grippli, father said, you'd know him when you saw him. Yes father, you were correct!
As he approachs the new table, other men of an adventurous sort seem to be with him with what appeares, at first glance, 2 dwarfs.
Let's try this again.
Just as he is about to speak, the smaller dwarf stands up and approachs the vixen. Vorathan listens in as the lass explains the game she would have them play and snickers a bit as the obvious fondle attempt goes sour with a viper bite.
Бар жақсы және әлдеқайда арзан тәсілі көріңіз бұйымдар әйел менің досым! Емес возражаете болса, присоединюсь саған жақсы бородатые балалар үшін раунд варит? Мүмкін, біз таба басқа, кем қауіпті тәсілі сіз үшін ойнауға мүмкіндік.
Alas, but who am I to withhold a beautiful woman the chance to be in my arms and have her share a coin for my efforts?
Vorathan steps up to the sultry dame and takes a deep breath, eying the positions of both poised vipers.
As he reaches for the button on the woman's waist, out of the corner of his eye, the twitch of the viper's strike redirects his attempt to take a button and instead he quickly brushes the hair over her ear bringing his hand back to his chest producing a gold piece with speed the viper could respect.
You earned this one my lovely! But I will allow another to tempt their fate to win your favour.
Vorathan blows a kiss and finds a chair, giving the bigger dwarf a nod as if it was his turn to make a pass.
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"Ah this human speaks dwarven! Splendid! And what is your name lad? That was quite the coin trick. I believe that you and I will be fast friends. To dwarves and humans!" Nugats hoists his third pewter mug and once more tips some into his mouth, and more down his robe and onto the floor.
Turning back to the other dwarves, 'So I said to her, yeah you can tickle my beard if I can tickle yours. Oh no lass, not the one on your chin. Knocked me out cold she did. But the next morning she brings me a rasher of bacon and half a dozen boiled eggs. Lass knew what she was about. Har har!"
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The youth looks around uncomfortably, made all the more awkward as only his eyes are visible above the bright yellow scarf wrapping and covering the lower part of his face, and loudly orders a Katapeshi sandstorm from a passing server, quickly following this request with another for water with ice. As he waits for the drinks to arrive, he slides his chair a little closer to the table with the beautiful whirling dancer, raises a hand and then hesitates.
Again Edgar picks his chair up then positions it closer still, looks the dizzying twirl of the woman's entrancing scarfs, then moves himself uncomfortably close to her.
"Well..." he says, his eyes glancing up to behold the gorgeous woman so close at hand. "Let's see if I can show you all how this done..."
Edgar sets a few coins on the table then, holds one arm up, his fingers waggling in the air as his eyes watch and time a strike for the tantalizing buttons...
He looks toward his hand and see the precious button pinch defly between his fingers. "Well, that wasn't so hard," he laughs as he raises his arm again and prepares to reach between the darting snakes. "I think I'm getting the hang of this! Sorry, my friends, this game is all but over...". The youth's hand reaches forward one more time.
As he tries to pull his hand back one of the incredibly quick snakes lashes out and strikes him. Perhaps taken by everyone seeming to speak dwarven so readily around him, the youth cries out in a tongue he does not understand in the slightest.
"айқын маймыл сэндвич таяқ!"
Nursing his red hand, holding pressure on the two dots each trickling a small crimson stream, he waits for his drinks to arrive.
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"The name is Vorathan Albercoft of Taldor and to dwarves and Humans and beautiful snake charmers alike!" Vorathan exclaims with a glance and a wink to the vixen who just found her next victim. He raises his newly acquired mug of brew and takes a more careful look at the dwarf who just spoke to him noticing he is unlike most dwarfs Vorathan has encountered before.
"I really don't think he is a dwarf, but he may have had some rare child illness stunting his growth, best not make waves asking about it, I'm sure the truth will come in time"
No sooner did his drink touch his lips when he hears the yellow scarfed victim of chance denounce sandwiches of an ape like manner in response to his misfortune and could not hold back a riotous belly laugh!
"Please sir forgive me the chuckle, for it was not at your misadventures with the maiden, but the turning of your Dwarven phase. You may want to put some ice on that..."
Turning back to the "dwarf" whom he was first addressed.
"Perhaps you and your dwarf comrade are more partial to dice games? I happen to have a die of 20 sides and know a game called 19. The rules are simple. The goal is to make rolls adding up to 19 no more. You can stay at any time with the number you have, but you must hope it is closer to 19 than your opponents, what say, you want to play?"
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Glarifuyr, who is pleased that this little viper and belly dancer party has sprouted up at his table, raises his stein in response to Nugats toast to "Dwarves and Humans" and drains the rest. He catches the attention of a serving girl and nods for another of the piney, chocolate-coffee stout.
"What is this stuff called, my dear?"
As he settles in and chuckles at his friends attempting to steal costume jewelry (obvious to his dwarven eye) from a viper-wielding seductress, Glarifyur starts to take notice of the rhythm of the motions and removes his right gauntlet.
I can see a fraction of a proper opening, but I have no illusions. I am much too slow to have much of a chance at that!
Glarifyur takes a fresh pull off the delicious stout just as a slightly buzzed Rattus gets bitten and "curses" in Dwarven. Delectable, pine-flavored bitter stout goes spraying across the table, coating the gold coins and feet of the large-breasted woman.
"Ha Ha Ha!!!! Rattus!!!" Large tears begin to form in Glarifyur's eyes as he bellows in laughter. "You just said "Glamourous Monkey Sandwich Bludgeon!!" If those Aspis blokes would have learned...<COUGH COUGH COUGH>...jokes from you, they could 'ave saved their enchantments!!"
Now this is the adventuring life! But this must be my last stout, and I must find a bit more focus. Father used to say, "Beware of too much ale and merriment; the most dangerous situation does not occur in battle with shield raised high but in the cover of civility when your guard is down." I'll admit I am having fun, but we soon have a job to start.
Glarifyur's laughter subsides a bit, and he takes a fresh drink though a much more modest chuckle.
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"Well met, Vorathan Albercoft. Glarifyur, Son of Durifyur of Clan Egdoras. You will forgive my ill-manners, but gambling is not a pursuit I care much for. Creating something from nothing is not the way of Torag, and though it is a matter of opinion, it happens to be the way I see it. Please, excuse me..."
The forced and somewhat out-of-character manners and nicety helps Glarifyur to regain his mettle and senses after Rattus' successful Hideous Laughter spell. He drains the rest of his last stout, replaces the gauntlet on his right hand, and walks the short distance to Bugdip.
"That stuff ain't for everyone, but you gave it a true Pathfinder's try, didn't you lad? Are ye alright?"
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Edgar wipes the spittle of stout from his face, and looks up to Vorathan and Glarifyur. "... I said what?" The youth shakes his head and sighs, a scarlet flush of embarrassment darkening his cheeks, then he grabs his drink and gulps it down. "I meant to say, 'that's why I can't stand snakes'..."
"Oh bother..." he sighs again after finishing his Katapeshi sandstorm, then moves to drain his water.
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"ТиС дворян ар-намыс сол сендіру, мейірімді сэр Glarifyur ұлы Durifyur рулық Egdoras"
Turning to the smaller "Dwarf".
"What about you, you seem the gambling type? I'll make my rolls first this round and you can go first the next."
Vorathan turns his head up with a smile and adds a wink before sipping on his mug!
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Tybain follows the others into the courtyard-come-tavern, and the idea of a cold drink quite attractive indeed. The half-elf takes his seat, and observes the others ordering their drinks, learning what the place has to offer. Once the three-toothed barkeep comes approaches Tybain, he picks up a stone tablet from a nearby table and a piece of chalk from his pouch. Quickly he scribbles some letters on the tablet, and presents the result to the barkeep.
"BeeR"
" + "
"StRaw"
Once his order arrives, he lifts his mask ever so slightly to be able to get the straw into his mouth. And then he begins happily slurping the cold bewerage, the eyes behind the mask wandering towards the belly dancer. It takes a while until he is able to take his eyes off the hypnotically swaying voluptuous body. It looks like the others are playing a game of sorts. Or is it a game or a poor excuse for touching the girlflesh? No matter how poor the excuse, Tybain will gladly join this game.
Deciding to move closer, Tybain watches the snakes and their patterns, and tries to make his moves so they cannot possibly strike him. And there he is quite successful, but unfortunately in his care is only able to snatch one button.
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Looking at Vorathan, "Why yes lad, I do throw the dice, and fling the cards, and all manner of wagering for that matter. It seems that you have me at a disadvantage as Desna is on your side with a roll like that.
Let us see what Nivi Rhombodazzle can do for her humble servant."
"Would you look at that! Seems luck is on both our sides tonight!"
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"Oh, I'd like to try!" squeals Bugdip in excitement.
"What a strange die," he notes, turning it over in his hand.
"It's like a ball... but mine doesn't work... it won't roll a 19!"
"Oh, there we go. Thanks for the game... lovely fun."
Bugdip flings the die back to Vorathan with a smile before he scratches his head, "Oh, do you need some of my coins now?" Bugdip opens his purse for Nugats and Vorathan to take what they need.
"So, should we all learn Dwarven, then? It would be fun to talk to each other like that... it'd be like our secret language!"
The three-toothed man complies with Tybain's request, scratching his head and unable to remove the confused look on his face. This group has him flustered beyond anything any other group of drunkards has in the past.
The table of dwarves turns to look at the eccentric gnome dwarf, and then turns back to their mugs without saying a word. As Nugats heads back to his group's table he can overhear them, "If that's a dwarf, then I'm a bearded gnome..." after which a chorus of laughter erupts.
Tybain plops down with the group, enjoying his beverage, and takes a try at the dancing vixen. While he is adept at avoiding the snakes, he cannot seem to get enough buttons.
Vorathan has his go, but backs off before allowing himself to get bitten, instead relying on his charm and smile. The woman can see that she has pilfered enough gold coins from the non-locals, and so gets ready to move on to another group of suckers. Before she leaves, she brushes up against Vorathan, close enough to whisper in his ear, but whispers just loudly enough for others to hear.
"Be careful what you wish for my charming little Ferengi. It is not just hands that get bitten when they get to close to me." she snickers and winks and with a swirl of silk she disappears into the crowd.
Rattus bemoans his still developing grasp of the dwarven language that has entertained his companions so much, and finishes off the unique drink with a long pull. He reaches for his water, noticing a sudden trail of sand that appears wherever he moves.
Vorathan introduces another dice game into the mix, beaming at his good fortune. His pride is undercut slightly as the gnome eccentric dwarf manages to roll a 19 on his first attempt as well. The naive Grippli tries his hand, eventually managing the same, but the rules of the game are lost on him.
"Bahaha! You like my Katapeshi sandstorm young man! It is good, no? Unfortunate side effect, you will learn all the cracks and crevices in your body you never knew you had. I've never figured out how sand can get in those places. Even worse with the drink! Ha! But it is good." The gruff barkeep laughs, conspicuously ignoring Bugdip once he realizes that the frog-man is not so simple and niave as he assumed.
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As the "dwarf" rolls his dice Vorathan notices something in the way he tossed the dice.
He tossed that die like an old codger in Meriful Bay who had a set of loaded dice who won throw after throw but after milking his half-Orc table members dry they found his fraud and hung him from the tavern rafters, ha, he dangled like a piñata all night! This "dwarf" is much more than meets the eye!
This game seemed to attract the attention of the frog-man Vorathan had been told to seek out and he welcomed his approach.
"Come, give it a go"
As the Grippli busts the first round, but tosses out another 19 in the second round, it would seem fortune smiles on this interesting character.
"Excellent cast! Now let's see what my dice have in store."]
Even if the "dwarf" has an edge, a 19 in one roll demands its own respect.
"Awww busted! Looks like it's between you and the "dwarf." Please forgive me, tell me your names again."
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As the noticeably buzzed amphibian seems to forget his name,Vorathan sees this as a chance to get in with this Grippli to see if he is indeed the Pathfinder his family sent him to find.
"Well my froggy friend, I would be happy to instruct you in some Dwarven phrases, should we have some time and of course the drink is no longer twisting your tongue...Dwarf lingo is hard enough to learn clear headed never mind 5 rivers into the fog!"
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Nugtas looks at Vorahan with a practiced eye, feeling that his secret is not so secret anymore.
Nugats, my new friend Vorathan. Nugats." He hears Bugdip sounds a bit worse for the wear.
"Maybe you want to tone it down on the drinking, Bugdip. I need you with a clear head in case ... well we like you a lot and I don't want to see you puke all over the place and have to clean it up for real. . A new drink for my friend, Bugdip. How about a Varisian Smoothie?"
Overhearing the dwarfs question his ethnicity, Nugats erupts in a fit of rage iniatied by hurling his mug at the floor. ". You sirs are ill mannered, duerro loving, asshats. I shall shave all of your beards until all your chins are as soft and hairless as a human whelps bottom, so help me!"
Raising both hands towards the heavns, dirt, sand, and pebbles fly through the floor boards of the bar and begin to swirl around Nugats. The swirling builds and builds, spinning faster and faster as it increases in mass. The air throughout the bar takes on a dry, earthy taste as smaller particles escape the centrifugal force of the spinning earthen mass.
Extending his hands towards the dwarven table, the mass flies at them at an incredible speed.
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As Nugats responds angrily to the dwarven insults, Glarifyur feels a disturbance in the earth beneath him.
Easy, friend. These fools are just jealous of your connection with the stone. Plus they don't hold their alcohol as well as proper dwarves like you and I. I'll buy them one more round; you'll see they will be passed out drunk and then we will laugh at them together!"
Thank Torag I heeded my father's advice, or I'd be shoulder to shoulder with Nugats in a drunken rage defending his honor!
Glarifyur throws his arm around Nugats' shoulders and gives a hearty laugh.
"Lass, another round of ale for my rowdy friends at that table there on my coin, if you please!"
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Is that dirt I'm tasting! Surely, dwarf or not, This Nugats is dwarf enough for me!
"Nugats менің досым, түсінемін сіздің ашу-ыза! Первородство жоқ шутить, бірақ сволочи екіталай сіздің уақыт тұр! Бөлек сіздің ролл, бұл Grippli 1 рулон 19, Ал сен устроить сол сияқты тағы да?"
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Bugdip pays rapt attention to the dwarven phrases, and thinks he might be picking up some key things here and there. Certainly, the word 'Grippli' stands out to him and he nods along eagerly when he hears it. 'Nugats' also seems to be the same in any language.
"For-a-thorn," Bugdip begins, "You really must teach me dwarven! Between you, Nuggets and Glory-Fur, I'll be proficient in no time!"
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"Bugdip is it? I would be happy to share any knowledge I can, and as you said with your Dwarven companions, we will have you speaking with a proper dwarfish accent in less that a fortnight. But I do have an inquiry for you noble Grippli, are you and your company Pathfinders sent to investigate the attacks on the Grand Lodge? My father has connections with the Society and has directed me to find you in order to become a Pathfinder as well. I would like to join your cause and with that we should have plenty of time to share Dwarven phrases!"
"Bugdip is it? I would be happy to share any knowledge I can, and as you said with your Dwarven companions, we will have you speaking with a proper dwarfish accent in less that a fortnight. But I do have an inquiry for you noble Grippli, are you and your company Pathfinders sent to investigate the attacks on the Grand Lodge? My father has connections with the Society and has directed me to find you in order to become a Pathfinder as well. I would like to join your cause and with that we should have plenty of time to share Dwarven phrases!"
The pathfinders break away from the small but bustling booze bazaar and continue their trek to the Farseer tower. The city's 40 foot tall sandstone walls can be seen in the distance occasionally over the rooftops when the group meanders through certain intersections. Otherwise, Katapesh reminds many of them of a sand filled, colorful version of Absalom. Gigantic, eclectic, colorful, and packed with people of all kinds. Just a bit hotter than the city at the center of the world.
It is a hot, breezeless evening in Katapesh. Here, in a meeting room atop Farseer Tower, the curtains hang listlessly even with the windows thrown open. Unfortunately, the only thing hotter than the air is Venture-Captain Wulessa Yuul’s ire.
“Why must I share Katapesh with so-called equals who are incompetent?” She huffs between gritted teeth, pacing back and forth before calming herself. “My pardon. Let me explain. Some months ago, the crypt of Zahari Mahiman—a scholar and sage from the Age of Enthronement—was rediscovered out in the wastes. I, personally, have long sought one artifact reputedly interred with him: the Monadistic Archive, a collection of scrolls from the Jistkan Imperium. Unfortunately,” she grits her teeth, “It fell under the purview of the Kotargo Lodge to arrange an expedition. Venture- Captain Dulm took his time getting things underway, in spite of my own requests for urgency and offers of assistance. As a result, by the time his agents got there, the place had already been looted.
“Phlegos Dulm’s complacency aside, not all is bleak. The adventurers who looted the crypt were not scholars; they were simply looking to exploit the wonders of the past. The Monadistic Archive, in particular, was sold to Palhuna Murqual, a merchant here in Katapesh. I believe he bought the archive assuming it was merely a magical storage device, not an esoteric repository of lore indecipherable by him. He has shown interest in selling—at a profit, of course—and I need you to make the purchase. I have an Abadaran promissory note that should cover the price, but he is crafty and may bargain for more. I want the archive, whatever it costs. I can’t pay more gold than I already have offered, but if you can find other means of appeasing Murqual, I encourage you to do so.”
The fiery woman stands straight, brushing the wrinkles out of her tunic and takes a deep, cleansing breath. She folds her arms, staring at the gathered group. ”I am sure if you are as competent as I expect you will be, based on my request to Valsin, you will have questions. Now is the time to ask them.” Her tone is curt and slightly condescending, but not entirely rude. It is clear she is consumed by her strong desire to get her hands on this relic.
The Monadistic Archive is said to be a Jistkan collection of knowledge.
Supposedly it does not merely document lore from that era, but actually binds the minds of great thinkers into a mental compendium.
Like many Jistkan magical items, it is said to have an outsider bound to it as well, overseeing the minds within.
Palhuna Murqual is known as one of the preeminent vendors of magical and mundane devices created for the specific purpose of restraining and storing living (or unliving) beings.
Rumor has it that he has a side trade in smuggling kidnapped victims within his wares. Troubles with that business recently cost him some of his more experienced servants, and he is said to be looking for agents to ‘get a few things done’.
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"Hello Venture Captain. Nugats, dwarf of the Five Kings Mounatins. Do you know of any others that are aware that Murqual has the Monadistic Archive and are interested in acquiring it? It is good to know something of any potential rivals before we negotiate.
Maybe you can tell us anything of more Murqual? Vices? Does he like to gamble?" Nugats winks at Vorathan.
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Vorathan has little understanding of arcane items or locales outside his homeland of Tandor, but maybe there is another way details can become clearer.
"Captain Yuul, I'm sure with a person of your resources, cunning and obvious natural charm there is more details you can provide. Is this item sought after by any other buyers or collectors? Can it be dangerous for just anyone to acquire it? What about this area can we know that can give us an angle to convince Murqual to sell it to us? Do you know how much he paid for it?"
"He is to smart for gambling and vices such as that." Yuul turns to look out the breeze-less window. She conspicuously ignores the gnome's insistance on being a dwarf of the Five Kings Mountains.
"Things about Murqual? He is a shrewd businessman, and as such, will certainly see the value in a team of Pathfinders. That's one reason I am sending you." She says, turning back to face the group. The chain that connects her ear and nose sways slightly from the movement and settles back against her cheek.
She takes another deep breath, clearly coming to grips with something in her own mind before admitting, "After Dulm's gaff, I also recognize that I am too incensed to deal with Murqual in person."
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"Oh, yes, my name is Bugdip, For-a-thorn," the grippli who smells faintly of dragonfly purée replies, "I'm not sure about investigating attacks... but I'm part of the group that was sent to Katapesh! Strange we didn't see each other on the ship over here..."
"Phlegm-Ohs Dum would seem to have a lot to answer for," Bugdip tries to be agreeable, "But perhaps it was a simple mistake - or maybe the others were very fast. I'm sure this Pal-Hunter Murk-Well will be happy to keep the right price for the Monadistic Archive. As you say, it is useless to him. If not, we'll be happy to help out as we can."
Bugdip scratches his head, and decides to ask the obvious, "So, what kind of lore is this Monadistic Archive supposed to store anyway? Oh, and what is the 'Jistkan Imperium'?"
"Vorathan, is it?" the exotic woman addresses the roguish man, "Flattery will get you everywhere. Just back off when I am still seething alright?" She snaps, perhaps a little harsher than she intended.
"Murqual is a businessman, so I am sure he has been trying to sell the item. I don't know if he has any bites yet, which is why you must have some urgency in your action. Valsin chose you lot because you apparently know how to get the job done. Even if he may be in the process from selling it to someone else, I expect you to find a way to convince him to sell it to you instead. I have a promissary note here that is quite valuable, but all Murqual cares about is his profits. As I mentioned, he will see value in you and your potential. You may need to use that to convince him that you are the best customer to sell to."