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A tall humanoid ducks his head through the doorway as he enters the room. He is dressed in crimson cloth from head to toe. Only eye slits exposed his face to reveal the blank stare of milk stained orbs. His long rubbery fingers wrap around a scorched oak staff. It does not take a seat.
It stands.
It waits.
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The five of you are standing in an opulent parlor in the Druman capital of Kerse, part of the manor home of Temel Passad, a prominent Kalistocrat. Served the finest Chelish wine and delicate sweetmeats while awaiting your host, you have time to peruse a letter from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin, and introduce yourselves to each other.
Pathfinders,
Society agents recently learned of a lost, previously undocumented Sky Citadel in what was once Sarkoris, the land now consumed by the Worldwound. As we cannot push into that demon-infested wasteland ourselves, we have recruited dwarven aid in the dangerous expedition. In exchange for military assistance and historical expertise, the dwarves will have the opportunity to reclaim this lost stronghold. Two weeks ago, Highhelm sent an entourage of diplomats and tacticians north toward Mendev to meet with Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury to discuss terms and develop a plan of attack. When they failed to arrive in a timely fashion, Jorsal commissioned sending magic to contact Rakuska Ingardam, the mission’s leader. Rakuska’s return message—cut off due to the magic’s limit—was as follows: “Passed Xer, paid our way, but attacked and overcome. Razmiri priests hold us for unknown purpose. We are held somewhere near the Glass River at…” One of several possible places they are held is the Gray Revelation Inn, about thirty miles east of Xer—we suspect the Razmiri priesthood uses the site to interrogate prisoners. You must investigate and liberate the three dwarven envoys—if indeed that is where they are imprisoned—and then escort them to Mendev. Accompanying you are two other dwarves who will take the captured envoys’ places if you aren’t successful: merchant Metella Raugar and respected Pahmet mystic Amauhak. The Kalistocrat Temel Passad, a Druman with whom we have dealt in the past, has volunteered a boat to transport you north, and I see little reason why we should not take him up on this offer. Building a good working relationship with one or more influential merchants would be to everyone’s benefit. Good luck! Ambrus Valsin
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Sipping from her wine in the opulent room, Iryana looks ... bored. Oh, she is certainly in some of her finest adventuring attire - probably fairly new at that - and holds herself in a manner which hints at being used to such surroundings.
But once a woman starts adventuring, you can't get it out of her blood. And so standing around, with nothing to read or do, has the Keleshite looking as if she were ready to nod off standing up.
As the tall creature walks into the room, a dark eyebrow flicks upwards, and Iryana's lips pull at the corner in the hint of a smile. Taking her time to wend her way over to the crimson-robed mystery, Iryana snags a glass of chilled wine as a peace offering - holding it out as she arrives.
"Good day to you, friend," offers the Keleshite woman in a rolling accent as she holds out the glass. Bowing, either with glass in hand or not should Krang take it, Iryana manages to pull off a hint of a flourish as she does so. "I do not believe we have met. Iryana Rehmani, curious historian, at your service."
Iryana Rehmani
Female NG Human Bard (Archeaologist), Level 2, Init +2, HP 16/16, Speed
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 13, Fort +1, Ref +5, Will +4, CMB +1, Base Attack Bonus 1
Rapier +2 (1d6, 18-20/x2)
reach, trip, disarm, non-lethal Whip +2 (1d3, x2)
+1 (MW) Studded Leather (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 10, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition None
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The faint creaking of steel on steel whispers beneath the introductions, as the half-orc standing to the back of the room adjusts his posture. He doesn't make a habit of wearing a full set of plate armor when roaming about the city, but every member of the Society learns than any briefing may require immediate dispatch. He cradles his helm in the crook of his left arm, and uses his free hand to wipe away the sweat beading on his brow.
"Slachagok," he announces the other Pathfinders in attendance, taking his hand from his forehead. He turns his wrist, bends forward slightly, and sweeps his arm quickly across the room in a half-hearted effort to evoke a bow. "Repesentin' th' interests o' Andoran, an' the faith o' Abadar."
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Xeros sets down his empty glass and wipes his lips with a napkin before he speaks again, "Nice to meet you Kraang, I see your your well verse in verbal communication. Do any of you know much about the Sky Citadels or this area in the world wound?" He directs the question more towards Slachagok and Iryana.
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That easy, ready smile slides first to Xeros, then to Slachagok as Iryana raises her glass in greeting. "Well met, Mr friends. Well met. I see you have found the sweet meats. I simply had to walk away for fear of needing to be rolled it off here when the time comes. They are quite addicting,," she offers to Xeros.
Then Iryana looks at Slachagok and shakes her head. "Hello to you, too, big guy. I represent myself ... well, and the Society, of course."
A glance is given at the exquisite decor, before Iryana shrugs. "Oh, this and that. The people of Druma don't follow a deity, but the idea that wealth drives the world. So the dedicate their lives to acquiring wealth. As such, they likely know all movers and shakers in Avistan - they trade with them all. Razimran is likely as much an annoyance to them as everyone else in the area, and they see a profit in it, and that is why they are willing to even consider helping."
Iryana takes another sup of wine and smiles at Krang. "Glad to know your name," she finally replies to the strange ... outburst. "As for the sky citadels, oh, just rumor, really. Floating siege engines disguised as cities, ancient things of grand magic and mystery, once lost to history and thought destroyed. No doubt everyone wants to get inside that baby."
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Two silent servants open a pair of richly lacquered doors, and a human and two dwarves stride into the lavish parlor. The man, clad in immaculate robes of whitest silk, is short and round with a blond oiled beard, and his eyes are alert and amused. He takes a touch of snuff from a golden box and sneezes before saying, “It is a pleasure to welcome Pathfinders to one of my estates once more. I am, as you may know, Temel Passad. Allow me to introduce—”
One of the two dwarves, a redheaded female in deep scarlet robes, curtly interrupts the man. “We can introduce ourselves,Passad. I am Metella Raugar, representing the interests of several Highhelm mercantile consortia. My companion”—she gestures to a dwarven man with leathery skin baked by the sun, his head swathed in a bright yellow scarf— “is Amauhak of Reth Bezel, a mystic of the sand dwarves of Osirion.”
Passad smiles. "Dear Pathfinders, I do hope that everything has been to your liking thus far, please do let me know if there is anything you require." he looks to each of you in turn, ensuring that your needs are indeed met, and if you do require anything he sends a servant to take care of it for you. Then, his face turns uncharacteristically stern. "I assume you each read the letter? Good. My ship, the Abacus, will take you from Kerse, hugging the shore of Lake Encarthan before entering the mouth of the Glass River
to pursue your first task: searching the Gray Revelation Inn. From there, the Abacus will take them the rest of the way to Mendev to deliver Passad, Metella, and Amauhak, and hopefully the liberated envoys."
The deeply tanned Pahmet mystic speaks up. "Given what happened to the earlier team, it would be the wisest course to keep our presence a secret."
Razmir, known as the Lord of the 31 Steps, claims to have taken the Test of the Starstone and ascended to divinity. He appeared before the people of Xer in the Duchy of Melcat 52 years ago and now acts as both sovereign and god of those captured lands.
It is no secret that the Razmiri clergy rely more on bullying than on divine miracles, often exploiting travelers to fill the church’s coffers. The regular patrols of faithful enforcers searching for dissension has resulted in the paranoia that runs throughout the government and the populace. Any friendliness from a native is cause for suspicion.
While not all citizens of Razmiran worship the living god, none would admit as much publicly, especially to outsiders who may be undercover clergy.
there is no evidence to prove that he is anything but all-powerful.
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Xeros raises to his feet and looks Passad, "Don't worry mam, you are in my capable hands. We will get your comrades home safe and punish those who took them." The tiefling then looks over to the mystic, "If you require us to go silent then we will move in like shadows, but I warn you my methods might be a little flashy." Xeros boasts.
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"There names are Rakuska Imgardam, a well-known Five Kings diplomat
and devotee of Torag; Holfist Sendstrom of Taggoret; and Pechas Domri—like Amauhak, a Pahmet dwarf of Osirion. All are valued for their strategic and military acumen." Metella replies. "We do not have any contacts in the area."
If no one posts any more questions by the time I wake up in the morning, I will continue.
"I assume you have descriptions for us, just to cover any variable, of course," offers Iryana sounding almost bored.
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Kraang glides over to Slachagok with his hand out reached. With a single finger extended, Kraang pokes the half-orc.
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Descriptions of the captives are given upon request, though the dwarves will also be able to identify them.
You embark, and your journey along the coast of Lake Encarthan is uneventful. Passad's hired hands (five sailors in all, including the captain), are quiet and efficient, and the boat, a modest craft, reaches the mouth of the Glass River and heads east without incident. As the
boat enters Razmiri waters, your charges come up from below decks. "Pathfinders, when we get closer to Xer, I suggest that we dock there and pay the necessary tolls. This will reduce the chance of us getting into trouble if we are stopped by one of the ubiquitous faith barges up the river." Passad says.
Metella shakes her head. "I disagree. Stopping at Xer gives the authorities a chance to search the boat and discover us. It would be better to sail past Xer and deal with any faith barges we may or may not encounter when the the time comes."
Passad sighs. "Pathfinders, if is your decision. But if money is an object," he reaches into his pocket and pulls out 2 platinum pieces. "I will gladly pay the fines."
Metalla turns again to the Pathdfinders. "What say you?"
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Kraang strokes his neck at the presented dilemma.
"If we stay, there will be trouble. If we leave, it will be double? If we stop at Xer, what are we hiding? All I see are passengers on a boat traveling up the Glass River. Would Xer be worthwhile to port and investigate what is happening upriver? Tell me of these 'faith barges.' They sound . . . entertaining."
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Xeros stares out in the open water in thought, "I agree with Metella, these people that hold your friends could have spies at the docks. Though do we carry any cargo that we shouldn't besides ourselves?" He asks with more curiosity then care. "If we need to go into Xer could we take a dinghy to land and avoid the dock hands all together?"
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The half-orc gives a start at Kraang's nudge, snapping back to attention.
***
"Not normally friendly t' other faiths, these Razmirans." The warpriest brushes the silver key that hangs around his neck, as if scattering a cover of dust. He has only recently replaced his wooden icon with the wages from his last mission, but the Abadarian still aspires to acquire a Key in the full gold befitting his devotion.
"If our patron says the docks'll be less cause for trouble, I'm all for it," he grunts. "Wiser t' hide in plain sight than go skulkin' about some corsair's back channel."
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"Is it required to stop in Xer and pay the tolls? Or is trade allowed to flow to it's destination then pay the tolls?" asks Iryana from her casual seat on the . "We are a trade ship that has taken on passengers to add a few more coins to our coffers. We should do whatever is normal for such a river ship," states the Keleshite woman.
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Kraag turns to Iryana and looks down upon her.
"Are you ready to place the lives of this crew in your hands? Should we dock, there will be questions. You will be the one that will be giving the answers. Wrong answers and the mission will be compromised. Pathfinders' lives, compromised. That will be the price we truly pay should we dock and be discovered."
After Kraang finishes, his sour-milk stained eyes stare at the horizon. His eyelids snap loudly, otherwise he is motionless.
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"Aye, ye dun need t' remind us the price o' failure," Slachagok retorts. "But ye might remind yeself th' words o' that letter: th' dwarves went through Xer an' paid their way." He crosses his arms, helmet hanging from his left hand.
"Seein' as it's them we're after, I say we follow their steps an' see what they'd 'ave seen. An' if we do attract the same manner o' attention, more's the better t' find where they've been taken."
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The tiefling sheathes his sword and looks to the half-orc, "Fine, let's see how welcoming this Xer is. If we come into trouble sooner then so be it. Our group is not the most discrete but I believe we will manage." As he finishes he pulls his hood over his horns and long black hair and looks back out to the water.
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The city of Xer occupies the north bank of the Glass River, and its dozens of docks remain busy as ships headed both east and west call at the port. Grubby men and women in bulky jackets patrol the docks, and few smiling faces are to be seen. The boat’s captain chooses an isolated berth sheltered on either side by tall warehouses, and one of them tosses a rope to the dockworker, who moors the boat to post near him. The envoys go belowdecks as soon as the decision is made to port in Xer.
As the Abacus arrives at the dock, three Razmiri enforcers—one holding the taut leash of a slavering, halftamed wolf—approach. "Whart is your business in the great Razmiran? And how many souls aboard?" one of them asks.
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Putting her best smile forward, Iryana steps up and offers her most trained and perfect flourishing bow. "Ah, greetings, and good day to you fine gentlemen. This is a merchant barge I have hired to take me up stream. I have a few baubles to sell, as proof of the family honor and business. I am interested in trade negotiations of a type that would benefit my family, as well as Razmiran. I hear that I needed to stop in Xer and pay the proper fees before moving on," she notes, before putting a finger to her cheek and looking over the ship.
"Let's see, I have my captain, his crew, a guide, a few hands, and a bodyguard of my father's choosing," she starts before turning back to the three men and offering wink. "Over protective as ever. But this one is a pesky one, he keeps finding me. I think my father paid a good price for this one ... the others have been so easy to loose. So ... 9 ... " she starts, before sighing and looking back to the ship. "I always forget to count the crew..." she asides to the Razmiran men. "Nine isn't it, Captain?" she asks, pulling out her coin purse and starting to count coins in front of the enforcers.
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"The fee is ten gold!" shouts the apparent leader (Crossbow2) of the boat. They watch as Iryana counts out the coin, and all seems to be going well. Just then, a sneeze is heard from belowdecks. The Razmirans level their crossbows, and the wolf growls. "Liars! Lower a gangplank and come ashore at once!"
COMBAT ROUND 1
Crossbow1
Crossbow2
Kraang
Slachagok
Crossbow3
Xeros
Iryana
Hotspur
Kraang and Slachagok are up!
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Xeros steps foward towards the crossbowmen and after he chants various words of power a burst of colors emerge from his open palm and cover there opponents. "I guess you all choose to fall!" He cooly says after the spell.
2 HD or less: The creature is unconscious, blinded, and stunned for 2d4 rounds, then blinded and stunned for 1d4 rounds, and then stunned for 1 round. (Only living creatures are knocked unconscious.)
3 or 4 HD: The creature is blinded and stunned for 1d4 rounds, then stunned for 1 round.
5 or more HD: The creature is stunned for 1 round.
Sightless creatures are not affected by color spray.
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Kraang still does not move. Slachagok fires an arrow at Crossbow2, but the missile whizzes by the man's ear.
Crossbow1 squeezes the trigger of his crossbow and fires back, but the arrow flies far above the half-orc's head.
Crossbow2 does the same, as he shouts "Hotspur, attack!" But the projectile glances off the warpriest's armor.
Finally, Crossbow 3 returns fire, and this time the bolt hits Slachagok in the arm.
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Xeros hits the crossbowman, who staggers from the hit. Iryana delays?
Kraang attempts to calm Hots[ur, who almost seems to give in to the druid, but then the canine visibly shakes its head and leaps onto the boat, attacking Kraang. The attack tears the tiefling's skin and the wolf pulls him to the ground.