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Zynep appears to be genuinely intrigued in the Kalthet's family business. Such insight could help out her family in the future.
Bit of Luck
"Of course, darling. Again, you travel in good company. I will set up the arrangements."
Zynep will saunter over to Kazrin while casting Enhance Diplomacy. She will then make him a proposition in Varisian.
"Cousin, the Garundi would appreciate if we could transport these uniforms of the Mercenary League out of the country. As you can tell, he is quite useful. In keeping friends with him could open a lot of closed tomb doors in Osirion. It would also make me grateful as well."
Bit of Luck
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Varg approaches the Scarzani, Kazrin, and speaks to her in a low voice.
I know that you must know many routes across the borders of Isger. Before we leave, it is very important that I find out the way to cross into Cheliax unnoticed. Can you tell me a way, or two?
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20
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Linnea can't help but be a Nosy Nellie and inserts herself into Varg's conversation with the Varisians.
"Certainly Varg here, in defending your caravan so valiantly, has earned your trust. I can vouch that this man, though he may be a bit wild in his appearance, is someone that values discretion. Please, you can trust Varg."
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Luisila tries to help Cleaver by feeding some low-level intelligence to the Scarzni, in an attempt to ingratiate the group with the smugglers.
“I heard there was some low-level activity by the Hellknight Order of the Godclaw in Logas, a few months back.”
“Some missionary do-gooder rocking the boat apparently … but that’s a while ago. I’m sure things will have settled down by now – and I don't need to tell you that Logas is right on the Chelaxian border.”
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Seeing Varg needing some kind of social aid, tries to help the Ulfen man the only way he knows how (which is probably more distracting than anything.)
With the aid of his companions, Varg is able to discover what border smuggling routes across Cheliax and Isger.
The party regroups and heads north, following the tracks, which quickly leads to what appears to be a battlefield graveyard. This small forest clearing smells of recently tilled earth. Several crude grave markers dot the landscape, each currently marking the position of an empty pit. As the party approaches, two worgs can be seen scavenging through the graveyard and attempting to hide from the party.
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As the group treks forward, Linnea grows a bit peckish. She removes a bit of the trail rations, munching on the dried fruit and meat that are a staple of Pathfinder gear. A soft grunting suddenly grabs her attention.
"Oh, forgive me Professor!" She takes a handful of the dried fruit and holds it under Oinkerton's snout. "Eat up, little fella."
As they approach the battlefield graveyard, she keeps herself alert.
As the party readies their weapons, the bigger with calls out from its position behind a gravestone. We wish to parlay, we have no quarrel with you.
The bigger of the two worgs edges forward. We do not know who attacked the caravans you speak of. We did see a hobgoblin tribe, one we did not recognize, came across this place several moons ago. They spent many days turning the land and removing the dead, human, goblin, bugbear, it did not matter to them. It pauses to scratch behind it's ear with one of it's rear legs. They have made their lair not far from here, toward the setting sun. A nearby trail should lead you directly to a tree broken in two. The entrance lies somewhere off the road, beneath the tree.
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Luisila will shoulder her bow and take some trail rations out of her temporarily abandoned backpack.
She comes out of the shadows to approach the meeting, but is still wary of the party’s guests.
“Ernest, is Isger in the northern hemisphere or the southern hemisphere?”
“Sometimes I forget which one I’m in and what season it is.”
“Does the sun set in a different direction in the northern hemisphere?”
The priestess shows the wolves some trail rations in a business-like rather than teasing manner.
“What’s the time, Mr Wolf? It could be dinner time, but it depends on how well you answer some simple questions … how many hobgoblins, how were they armed, did any perform magic, describe their pack leader, how many bodies did they cart away, did they leave any shiny stuff in the graveyard, do you know of any secret ways into their lair."
"Do you know what Cleaver will do to you if you cross us or attack any caravans, what is your favourite color?”
"Now look what happens if you answer honestly and completely …"
“Snouts, would you lie to me or attack any caravans?” When the poor, neglected, starving pig replies, Luisila will reward his honesty by setting down a full days’ worth of trail rations for him. She has two days’ worth of rations for the wolves depending on their response.
The worg's jaws begin to salivate and drip spittle as it eyes the trail rations and tries to comprehend the barrage of questions asked it. Finally it responds, "There were at least as many as I have claws on one foot. I do not know what you mean by time, it is daytime to me. They carted away many remains, too many for me to count. It pauses to lick it's slathering jaws. They did not perform anything they I would callagic. They did not leave anything shiny, but the are some shiny items on the graveyard that they did not see. I do not know if there is a secret way into their lair, I only know where I have seen them go. Their leader is a hobgoblin. She carried a shield and a weapon, but she also had many pouches and a symbol on her chest that I do not recognize. That is all I know. What is this color you speak of?
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I would totally attack a caravan for more snacks if I was big enough, no lie.
... What is this color you speak of?
You fortunate creatures. I wish more people saw Golarion is terms of shades of grey.
Luisila flings her remaining trail rations way from the party (and certainly away from Snouts) for the wargs.
Their leader is a hobgoblin. She carried a shield and a weapon, but she also had many pouches and a symbol on her chest ...
“Zynep and Ernest, does that sound like a cleric of an evil power?”
She will await further responses from other party members before agreeing with Ernest.
“A spot of ‘valuables recycling’ before we assault the lair might be in order.”
The worg pads through the graveyard, pointing out items undiscovered by the hobgoblins. The party recovers; a +1 heavy steel shield, a hand of the mage wrapped in dirty bandages, a skull with two gold teeth worth 5 gp each, and loose coins worth 398 gp.
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"You know, I always feel horrible stealing from the honored dead, but then I comfort myself in the fact that the Society likely uses their super-item-replicator to make copies and return a version of the item to the specified graves." A moment passes before he continues. "That's how that works, right?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Yes Ernie, that's exactly what my friend in the upper eschelons of Society bureaucracy says happens."
Linnea quickly busies herself arranging everything in her pack. She figures that she has a couple of days' worth of rations to spare and gives on to each of the worgs.
"You two look famished. Here, it's no fine-dining like the Golden Serpent, but they should help you get by. By the way, are you two part of a pack? Is your den nearby?"
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While all the talking is going on, Omrax will scan the entire area for evil (worgs included) but also graves etc.
"Bah, I do not think we can trust them at all Sir Varg. I would end their miserable lives unless they run far from here, in the opposite direction and not to return. Even then I may change my mind."
"Lady Luisila, you seem to have a way with them. I would rather have them with us or in opposite direction. As opposed to them wandering around causing trouble whence we came if you get my meaning."
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Luisila hefts her bow and addresses the wargs. “Did you b!tches hear what the nice paladin and the big warrior said?”
“Might be time to make like a tree … before they nail you to a tree.”
With a friendly wave. “Stay away from the caravans and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Luisila will then wait for a response from the wolves – if it’s a peaceful one, she will depart with the party when everyone is ready to head to the hobgoblin lair.
The party leaves the worgs to their scavaging and heads off in the direction indicated. The path winds its way through the Chitterwood until it forks at the foot of a large and mangled tree. A large tear runs the length of its trunk, splitting the tree nearly in two. The southern half of the tree hangs awkwardly to the side, casting a shadow over a small dip in the land.
Searching where the worg said, the party easily finds a small cave entrance partially hidden beneath the southern half of the tree. A crude flight of stairs lies just beyond the cave's entrance.
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Luisila quietly hums an old Calistrian hymn.
♪♫ Strut on the line – in discord and crime
I’m on the hunt, I’m after you.
Scent and a sound – I’m lost and I’m found
And I’m hungry like the wol... pig?? ♪♫
Luisila checks the party’s direction of travel periodically with her Wayfinder.
So if the needle always points north … Wow! The sun does set in the east in Isger!
Oh wait … I’m reading the Wayfinder upside-down …
Once they arrive, Luisila will check the surroundings for sentries from a distance before examining the entranceway for traps and alarms.
If it’s all clear. “I’m happy to follow our vanguard down, if everyone agrees.”
“IF the enemy leader IS a negative channelling cleric, we probably don’t want to line up in ‘fireball formation’ within 30’ of her. If there’s a problem though, Cleaver and Omrax, I WILL get to you.”
Luisila searches the entryway, but finds nothing suspicious or dangerous. Entering the complex, the party comes to a roughly circulation chamber twenty feet across. There are doors to the south and west.
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Omrax's face turns a bit red as he realizes he had purchased a wayfinder and never bothered to read the instructions.
"Facinating Lady Zynep. I did not realize they glowed. I thought these were just like badges for the Society." He digs his wayfinder out of his backpack, opens the brand-new box and imitates Zynep's actions.
"Well, fancy that...it really does work. I humbly offer your wayfinder back as I would fear I might damage it in battle."