Please dot in here and then go to the Discussion Thread.
Dotting. Thanks for the invite!
Aye, sire! Dottin' the thread.
You're all in a tavern when...
...a man enters, talks with the proprietor, Embra Morsk, and then tacks up a handbill on wall that contains several similar bills, most yellowed with age. The man is short and bespectacled, followed by a large mongrel dog. He returns to the bar and chats with Embra.
The Red Shield is a busy taphouse that is especially popular with the Hellknights. A dozen or more of the town’s off-duty garrison guards sit around the place, enjoying drafts of bitter or stout. The shield with its red device for which the place in named hangs from the rafters.
The serving maid, a stout older woman with thick arms, a ruddy neck and steel-gray hair poking out from a white linen biggin, sets down a tray of drinks you ordered. "There's a new ale keg tapped," she says. "From Thornkeep. And there's apples and cheese. Or pots of stew. I'd hurry on the stew, if you want some. Shift's about to change on the gates and they'll all be wanting some."
You're all familiar with the formidable and humorless routine at the gates of Fort Inevitable, where dour hellknights oversee vigilant armigers inspecting belongings and collecting taxes.
"Thank ye kindly miss!" says Wymond as he grabs his tankard.
"I'd actually like the Ploughman's Lunch, please. An' if it's not too much trouble, whatever scraps ye can spare for Triath 'ere," he says, punctuating his words with a scratch behind the hairy black pig's ears, prompting a contented grunt.
He turns to the other at the table, his mustache bristling over a kind smile.
"It's good to see all of you again! When I heard ye'd all come to the big city too, I knew we just HAD te see each other! I don' think any of you've met Triath, have ye?"
"Hey! comes an angry female voice from the bar. It's the owner, Embra Morsk. "Do I really need a 'no pigs' sign now? Get that animal out of my tavern! What is wrong with you?"
Triath looks at you sadly.
Wymond frowns and looks at the tavernmistress with puppy-dog eyes.
"Please, Miss Morsk, Triath won't be any trouble. He's the most well behaved pig in the River Kingdoms. Smart too! He know The Parables of Erastil better'n me! He won't bother you or your other patrons, I promise."
Zaia smiled at the serving maid. "Some stew sounds lovely, thank you."
She was curious about the new handbill, but waited as Wymond spoke and introduced his little pig to them all. "Aye, it is good to be around familiar faces. And no, Wymond, I haven't had the pleasure. Hello, Triath. I am Zaia," she smiled affectionately at the sweet pig, wondering if it could understand her.
Upon the proprietress' displeasure over Triath's presence in the tavern, Zaia listened to Wymond's earnest reply before politely adding, "He's a domesticated companion, Mistress Morsk, you may be assured of that. May he stay?"
After the woman answered and waiting for their food to arrive, Zaia turned her focus to the handbill, attempting to read it from their table so as to not draw too much attention to herself.
The owner comes over to the table, a kindlier look on her face.
"Sorry, kid. The pig can't stay. This is a tavern, not a barn. The hellknights wouldn't allow it even if I said yes. Tell you what, though. You can put him in the stables out back and I'll send out some scraps. He'll be safe enough out there. Okay? Now, go on. Get that pig out of here, please."
"Alright, I'll take him out. Come on, Triath."
Wymond heads towards the stables, with Triath trotting obediently behind him.
"Hellknights're a right stuffy bunch!" he comments.
The halfling eyes the guards, careful not to catch their notice, and tenses slightly at the mention of more guards. Perfire makes sure no one is looking his direction and quickly counts the coins in his purse. He does some speedy mental math and frowns slightly and then promptly reasserts his smile.
'Oh, I'm not that hungry, just an apple please.' he says to the woman.
Perfire bends to look under the table at the pig and gives it an odd look 'Hello Triath?' He comes back up 'I'm glad I ran into all of you. I don't like eating alone, especially around so many strangers.'
He tries to shrink into his chair when Miss Morsk begins chastising Wymond.
Zaia, you're going to need to walk over to where the handbills are posted to read them. Once you do, you see a few of interest. The one just posted says:
"Wanted! Intrepid Explorers, Valiant Swordsmen, Serious Scholars of the Past! Fame, Fortune, and Adventure! Experienced explorers only, please. See Pathfinder Venture-Captain Aldous Velikov at the Red Shields Tavern."
Another says :
"Wanted, Adventurers! Serious Reward offered. Inquire with the Goldenfire Order of Thornkeep at the Juliver Arms."
Another says:
"Wanted. Dead or Alive. Reward offered for the capture of the Echo Woods bandits. Inquire at the Citadel."
Another says:
"Wanted: Adventurers to solve the riddle of the Emerald Spire. See Abernard Royst at his home."
Yirrik smiles, glad to be among friends when surrounded by Hellknights and thier ilk.
He didn't know the halfling too well, but if Zaia vouched for him, that was good enought for Yirrik.
A laugh erupts at the banishment of Wymond's pet, "That'll teach you to bring the livestock into a tavern, Wy! " he exclaims good-naturedly, "No offence, Triath!" he says to the pig as Wymond lead the porcine companion out to the stables.
Yirrik notices Zaia peering at the handbill, and not worrying about being noticed, rises from his chair and joins his friend in reading the notice.
"Hmmm, four opportunties for fame and adventure!" Yirrik says excitedly, then frowns, "The Pathfinder one is looking for experienced explorers. We've been around but might not meet a Pathfinder's expectations."
His finger then stabs at the bottom of the list, "Ah, the Spire. That's where I want to go. That's the one for us, I think"
Wymond returns after making sure Triath is nice and settled down in the straw.
"Sorry, mate. They jus' don't realize yer nature. I'll be back soon, I swear on Erastil's antlers."
He returns to find the group looking at the board and clomps up to get a better look.
"Wot? Spire? What are you goin' on about, Yirrik?"
"The Emerald Spire, Wy! Only them most famous Azlanti ruin in these parts! Theodus told me about it, many have ventured to explore it, but very few have returned! " Yirrik explains, his eyes alight with possiblities.
He grows thoughtful, "I wonder if the Pathfinder is interested in the Spire as well. Could be he's just more circumspect."
He does some speedy mental math and frowns slightly and then promptly reasserts his smile.
'Oh, I'm not that hungry, just an apple please.' he says to the woman.
Perfire bends to look under the table at the pig and gives it an odd look
As the Halfling was occupied with the pig under the table, Zaia gestured quietly for the serving maid to hold and in much lowered voice instructed, "And a little stew for my companion, as well. Thank you." She had a little coin remaining, so she would ensure Perfire had a proper feed, too.
Standing by the wall containing the handbills, Zaia perused the notices. When Yorrik joined her, she gave him a dimpled smile, and silently pondered which were the most suitable for the party. There were two that appealed to her and before she could say which, Yirrik cast his vote for the Emerald Spire, which did not surprise her at all. "Oh, Yirrik, of course you would be drawn to the Spire, and honestly I am amiable to it. But of course, the one seeking adventurers with the Goldenfire Order sounds intriguing as well. But perhaps, our friend Perfire, might prefer the Spire over the Order." Zaia tapped her finger against her mouth as Wymond returned from the stables and joined them. She looked to the knight and added, "He's wanting to know which of these you would rather undertake, Wymond."
Perfire frowns a little seeing Wymond return alone. 'Sorry about your pig' He offers.
Perfire thinks for a minute looking at the postings. He considers each carefully and listens to his dining companions before piping up.
'Can't hurt to hear out the Pathfinders before we choose a direction. Like Yirrik said, we might be able to get two of these done at the same time.'
"Eh, Triath'll be okay. Pigs are smart beasts, an' Triath's even smarter than yer average pig," Wymond replies.
He harrumphs a bit at Yirrik's enthusiastic description of the Emerald Spire.
"Sounds like a right nasty place. But then, right nasty places are where lads like me are SUPPOSED to go."
He looks over the handbills.
"Honestly, I'd be amenable to some bounty huntin'. Help keep the roads through Echo Wood safe while we're off visitin' this Spire thingy. Though that Pathfinder man's right here in the tavern, so we might as well talk to 'im first. If'n yer lookin' to do any of these, Triath an' me'll be there to help. That's a knight's duty, helpin' people, and even if no noble's tapped me on the shoulder, that's what I am now!"
Sooo...
'Let me see if I can track down that Pathfinder.' Perfire offers after hearing a general consensus. He scans the room for anyone who might be Aldous Velikov.
The halfling meekly approaches the bar, casually attempting to keep as many tables as possible between himself and the guards enjoying their meal.
'Excuse me miss, can you tell me which of your generous patrons Aldous Velikov is? I'd like to speak with him about some potential work.'
Perfire spots the man who tacked up the notice, still drinking at the bar. That man regards Perfire and his friends with a certain amused interest, noting their own interest in the handbills. Wymond and Perfire notice that although Triath wasn't allowed into the inn, the bespectacled man's dog is sitting patiently beside him.
"You were looking for me, perhaps, Little Master?" says the man in the spectacles. "I'm Aldous Velikov and I represent the interests of the Pathfinder Society in this district. What's your name, then?"
'Perfire, sir, my friends and I were wondering what sort of work the Pathfinders had available in the area.' Perfire says
'That is, if you're not too busy.' He adds, hoping to have not offended the man.
Velikov looks Perfire over and then glances at his companions across the room. "What're you drinking, son?" he asks. "Embra, bring Mister Perfire a glass of whatever he's having. I'll have another of that apple brandy you're hiding back there."
Turning back to Perfire, he says [b]"So you need work, eh? Well, there's no shortage of that. Umm...what exactly is it that you do? The Society doesn't train newcomers."
Meanwhile, the serving maid brings your food and drinks, carrying all four mugs in one hand and your food balanced on a tray in the other. Just then, several guardsmen come in, shout hellos to those already present and call loudly for ales. The common room is getting louder, so its hard to hear each other without leaning in close or raising your voices.
"Honestly, I'd be amenable to some bounty huntin'. Help keep the roads through Echo Wood safe while we're off visitin' this Spire thingy. Though that Pathfinder man's right here in the tavern, so we might as well talk to 'im first. If'n yer lookin' to do any of these, Triath an' me'll be there to help. That's a knight's duty, helpin' people, and even if no noble's tapped me on the shoulder, that's what I am now!"
Yirrik looks at his earnest friend, "Helping people's great, Wy, but I really want to get to that Spire." he says, obviously torn, then smiles, "Well, it's stood there for how long already, so might as well do some good before we tackle it!" he exclaims, having sorted his priorities to his satisfaction.
Seeing Perfire approach the Pathfinder, and the serving maid bringing thier food and drink, his stomach commands him to sit. Sitting and giving the maid some coin he digs in, with an eye on Perfire and the Pathfinder.
Zaia approached and stood attentively to the side of Perfire as he addressed Aldous Velikov. There would be time enough for food and drink as soon as they had spoken with the Pathfinder. The bustle of new arrivals made it harder to be heard, so Zaia moved in a little closer so she would not have to raise her voice in introduction and answer.
"Well met, sir. I am Zaia Acayan and newly arrived in town," giving the man a warm smile. "Our group's skills and talents are varied and there are four of us earnestly seeking work. I am a priestess of Desna and my own talents lie predominantly in healing and underground exploration. Would you care to join us at our table?"
Seeing more guards enter, Perfire's hand moves to cover his other, and his iron ring. He seems overjoyed when Zaia steps in to address the pathfinder and adds quietly, all but drowned out by the noise of the entering guardsmen. 'And I have experience as an chemist with a minor knack for magic.'
Aldous considers, shrugs and comes to sit at your table.
"The Pathfinder Society has an interest in several local landmarks," He says, looking at each of you in turn. "Interests, but no local talent. Oh, I could send to Oppara for a team and they'd get here eventually, but there's no urgency. The Society is pursuing its own ends in the Worldwound and across Numeria, but here, just across the river, they're not interested enough to send a team."
"But this is my home and I -am- interested, so I'm looking for someone willing to do a little exploration. The work is potentially dangerous, but possibly enormously rewarding. I want to learn as much as possible about the Azlanti ruins in the Echo Wood, specifically in the catacombs under Thornkeep and the Emerald Spire. Heard of them? Good."
"You won't be Pathfinders, at least not yet. But do a good job and I'll see about sponsoring you. Interested?"
Perfire perks up brightly as Aldous mentions the Spire and the Echo Wood. As he had hoped, the Pathfinders interests coincide with the other jobs. 'I know I would be, and I hope my companions are interested as well.' He looks around the table expectantly.
"Aye, I am interested as well. And if our endeavours prove fruitful, I am also grateful for your prospective patronage." She'd noted Perfire's enthusiasm and could not see Yirrik turning down such an opportunity. Zaia wondered how Triath would enjoy exploring the underground. The little pig appeared resourceful enough when she met him and his master, Wymond, most eager to please.
"The Society isn't officially here, and we have many enemies we'd just as soon remained disinterested in the place. So we don't want the name of Pathfinders being used. I do hope that is clearly understood."
He takes a sip of the apple brandy and continues.
"You'd explore at your own risk, keep what you find...or what the hellknights let you keep, anyway. I think you'll find the Order of the Spike to be rather aggressive about getting its cut. Anyway, you won't owe the Society anything beyond regular reports and the right of first refusal for any artifacts you may choose to sell."
"In return, I can provide you with some nominal starting equipment and the most important thing I have to offer you: access to the Society's scholars and spellcasters if...when...you have need of them."
[b]"I'd suggest you go out and take a look at the Emerald Spire. It's not Thornkeep, but it's probably also less dangerous. Look around and see if you can find anything interesting. We'd be particularly interested to know why it was built, what it was used for and why it was abandoned."
"See me here at dawn if you're interested. I'll have that starting gear I mentioned."
He drains his brandy. "Have a good dinner. Good evening to you."
Zaia attentively listened as the Pathfinder spoke of the dangers, the division of discovered items, scholarly resources and providing them with a small amount of equipment. As he drained his drink and stood up to take his leave, Zaia smiled politely, "Thank you for your time and this opportunity. We shall meet you at dawn, then. Good eve, sir."
Once Aldous Velikov had moved away from the table, Zaia looked to her companions, before continuing in a discreet manner, "Do we have all the gear we require for this expedition? I wonder what equipment he shall provide for us. Having ready access to the Society's scholars and spellcasters is a boon, to be sure."
You heard the bells tolling at the Temple of the Golden Key a few minutes ago. It's 8 o'clock.
Wymond gives a pensive "Hrmmm..." as Mr. Velikov speaks and then gives Yirrik a little nudge.
"See? Seems ye'll get to yer Spire after all. Come to think of it, why don't we talk to that local gent who's lookin' for folks te "solve the mystery of the Spire(woooo!)" as well? There's sense in keepin' 'em both in the know about it. Pathfinders is all about sharin' knowledge, right?" he says with a shrug.
Yirrik smiles around a mouth full of food at the Pathfinder, listening attentively, nodding.
"Indeed. Good Evening, Ser." he responds to Aldous.
He nods at Zaia's comment, "I wonder as well. I have my gear...it's served me well underground, but Mr Velikov might have better insight as to what's needed at the Spire."
Smiling at Wymond, "I think you're right, Wy. Might as well see what the other gent has to say. Abernard Royst ....we'll have to find out where he lives."
He signals the serving wench over and asks her if she knows where Mr Royst lives.
She looks at Yirrik incredulously. "I guess you're not from around here. Abernard Royst is the most famous hero in all of the Echo Wood. Why, he's had adventures in Numeria, across the River Kingdoms, even into Galt and Ustalav, they say."
"Well, Sugar, you just go down to the Juliver gate... that's the one to the east. His house is the big one just inside the gate. Everyone knows mister Royst turns in early these days, so if you're going to see him, why you'd better run along."
Taking the barmaid's advice Perfire leads the way out of the bar down to Abernard Royst's house. He knocks and waits for the door to be answered.
'Sorry to bother you, we're here answering the posting regarding exploration of the Spire. Is mister Royst available?'
Finishing their meal and drink and upon instruction as to where they could find Abernard Royst, she paid and thanked the serving maid and rose with the others to make their way to his place of residence.
Once outside the tavern and remembering it was not long ago that the temple bells chimed 8 o'clock, Zaia enquired of her companions, "Anyone have a torch? I don't relish walking in the dark in such an unfamiliar place." Hoping one of them had a torch, she set along down toward Juliver gate and the large house just within.
She waited behind Perfire as he knocked on the door and informed whoever was within of their intentions.
"Aye, Master Royst. My companions and I are newly come to town and wish to speak to you about the Emerald Spire. We apologise for the lateness of the hour and won't take up much of your time."
She had hoped to come across more polite than not. Zaia cast a glance at Wymond in case her words and Perfire's were not taken overly well by the man or people inside.
An elderly servant lets you into the parlor and after a wait of some ten minutes, the great man comes down to join you. He is old (at least 55!) and what hair he still has is thinning and gray. His cheeks have begun to produce jowls and his mouth turns down at the corners. His bright blue eyes seem almost clear, like looking through a window pane into a clear summer sky. There is an ineffable quality of presence and self-assurance about the man that speaks somehow of his years of sudden violence and adventure.
"Visitors this late usually come bearing dire news," he says irritably. "If your news is that you want to become adventurers, that could have waited for the morning. Or are you in some hurry to leave tonight? Hellknights on your tail, are they?"
After rushing to the stables to pick up Triath, Wymond hustles after the group to Mr. Royst's house.
"Oy! Wait for me!" he shouts, before arriving behind them, huffing and puffing.
As they're introduced, Wymond harrumphs at Mr. Royst's words.
"We merely saw yer handbill at the Red Shield, sirrah, an' thought you might be interested in knowin' yer not the only one lookin' to send folks to the Emerald Spire. The Pathfinder Society's hirin' folk to go down there as well."
"Are they?" says the old gentleman. "I wasn't aware the Order of the Pike had permitted their return. They have been under interdict for the last eight years. You knew that, perhaps?"
"No matter. Your legal affairs are your own. My interests, on the the other hand, are less political. This is merely an interest of mine. An item I was too busy to see to myself during the tumultuous years of my youth. Now that I am a man of leisure, I can afford to take an interest in esoterica, such as why not one exploration of the Emerald Spire has ever returned. Not one. I find that curious. Don't you?"
"No, I tell a lie. Thirty years ago or so, the Order of the Nail sent down a company of well-armed hellknights and armigers. They supposedly returned several time. The rumors were that they'd discovered hidden chambers beneath the spire. But they never returned from their final foray. What do you suppose the old Azlanti hid in that green castle that is so dangerous? And what makes you think you would fare better than a company of hardened hellknights?"
Zaia listened to the exchange between Wymond and Abernard Royst. She never pretended that the Spire was not a dangerous place, but the more times she heard of the dangers below, the more she felt a small dread as to what could lie below the surface.
"Not to disparage the Order of the Nail, but they are fearsome soldiers and skilled in the art of combat and not deft exploration. I like to believe it takes a little more than just brawn to uncover what is lost or hidden. What do you mean for us to discover below the surface? Is it merely as much information as we can regarding the hidden chambers in the green castle? Some artefact or something of particular interest to you, sir?" Zaia kept her voice steady, attempting politeness for the hour was growing late and they had a meeting at dawn. If they were to risk their lives, she would rather know for what (a purpose), rather than some mythical relic below the surface. If a group of Hellknights and their armigers could not return on their last expedition, then there may well be something truly powerful kept or waiting in the vaults of the Spire.
Perfire does his best not to visibly flinch at all the talk of Hellknights.
'I don't think I can speculate as to what they hid down there, sir, but it must be important if it's so well tucked away. As to why we might fare better than they did, I think we might be able to out-think them. Not to sound too bold, but their rigid lifestyles tend to lead to rigid thought. We may come up with solutions to problems that stopped them in their tracks, sir.' Perfire does his best to look confident.
"I'm glad to hear it," says Royst, interrupting.
"What do you mean for us to discover below the surface? Is it merely as much information as we can unearth in the green castle? Some artefact or something of interest to you?"
"Sit down, young lady," he says, more kindly than before. "You too, gentlemen."
Perkinder," he calls, and moments later, the manservant appears.
"Wine, please."
The manservant goes off to arrange for some tea while Abernard Royst settles himself into a large stuffed chair beneath a tall banner of unknown provenance.
"You are direct," he says. "You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago." His gaze seems very far away for a few moments. "Very well, I will be direct with you as well. Something is happening out there at the Spire. I can feel it. You will be my eyes and ears. Give me frequent reports I will reward you financially. And, now that you mention it, there is something I want in particular."
He draws lays his hand on a silver box near his chair and lifts the heavy lid. Inside is a piece of green glass that looks like a chip from a sculpted item with a serrated edge.
"This is one of the rarest substances in the world, thought to exist only in and around Numeria. It is noqual, a skymetal. It is as hard as steel and can be forged like steel. It has the effect of warping the flow of magic around it. This piece is said to come from within the Emerald Spire. I'll pay 1,500 gold pieces if you bring me the object it was chipped from."
Upon Perfire's addition to the discussion, the cleric simply nodded. Aye, between them all, they could probably solve more complex and singular problems than the rigid Hellknights. Least the Halfling appeared confident in his remark. There was no surety that they would succeed where the soldiers had not. Still, a brave heart and an open mind never hurt.
Zaia sat down upon their host's request.
"You are direct," he says. "You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago."
Zaia did not mean to be so direct yet she did not want to interrupt him as he spoke and would wait to apologise.
Upon opening the silver box, Zaia cast her eyes down to the green glass - the skymetal. Such things were beyond her familiarity, yet she was ever curious as to how it came to be found below ground, here.
She heard him say 1,500 gold pieces and almost gasped at the large sum. The man certainly was invested in getting his hands on the object.
"Sir, if I was too direct earlier, allow me to apologise, as the hour is late and I didn't want to hold you up with social subtleties. You present a generous offer. What if the object is too large to bring up to the surface?" Who knew what manner of object the piece broke off from. "Have you some inkling as to the size of the object in question?"
Yirrik waves as the Pathfinder left the table, his attention then engrossed with the food and drink....and truth be told, the pretty bar maids crisscrossing the room.
Suddenly he realized his friends had left. Jumping up in surprise, he tossed some coins on the table ( 13 coppers ) and grabbing his pack, hurried out into the street....only to catch a glimpse of Wy rounding a nearby corner.
Sprinting to catch up with is friend, he repeatedly glimpsed the portly warrior rounding a corner just ahead of him, That fellow can move... he thought idly as he saw his friends entering a stately house.
Arriving on the porch just as the door was closing, he inserted his hands hand pushed gently, giving the surprised manservant a wry smile, "I'm with them...
Having arrived late, Yirrik allows the other to talk to the retired adventurer, nodding at the points they make, eyebrows raised at the princely sum offered, eyes filled with the green glass of the noqual.
His nerves a-tingle, he awaits the answer to Zaia's question...
"None whatever," says the old man with a shrug. "Find it, and we'll both know."
"It's good to prepare, but in my experience, the more that is known about some ancient relic the less likely you are to find it where you expect. Someone will have already arrived and seized it. So in this case no news may indeed be good news."
"Let me share a secret with you. Everyone knows that the castle is an Azlanti ruin. But I suspect that the Spire itself has nothing to do with the Azlanti. I think that more than ten thousand years ago, some Azlanti wizard tried to do what you intend to do...and probably failed. Azlant fell a long time ago, but there were ages out of mind before its rise. I believe that Spire has stood there since the dawn of the world. Compared to the long eons it has stood there, the rise and fall of Azlant was no longer ago than your last nameday."
"That, at least, is my hypothesis. To confirm it, I wish to commission a thorough and deliberate survey of the entire structure. It is a highly dangerous undertaking wherein a fat and, I admit, clumsy old man would be a liability. My adventuring days are long past. However, I have arranged for a rich reward to the party that reaches the bottom of the Spire and brings back maps and descriptions of the whole structure."
"So, now you have two quests, and I will pay you handsomely for each. If you live long enough you may find that the journey is its own reward. It won't seem like that at the time, though."
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