"This cartographer does sound like a good opportunity. And I agree on the climbing gear. That has burned us more than once. And camping though none of us are all that strong. If we fight we'll have to drop it. And if we are forced to flee we'll lose a lot of stuff. Not good but better to be prepared than not."
Together, you go to see this historian/cartographer that Luca has found, a man by the name of Junder Horl. He has the heavy features and slightly sharpened teeth of part-orcish ancestry. He sits alone in a musty shop bordering the western wall, barely even looking up as you enter.
Tyrus explains your interest in the Makon Temple, and wonders if the man might be able to supply you with a map to the location. At that he grows irate.
"Come along to take my life's work out from under me, have you?" he accuses. He speaks Obanese with a heavy accent, though you cannot place it. "I'll help you not. You can wander the jungle on your own!"
Tyrus calms the man by assuring him they have no intention of stealing his hard work or any recognition and wealth should the venture find something worthwhile. If he shares his information on the Temple Complex with the group, they will afford him a percentage of any material wealth gained as well as whatever archaeological finds they bring back. At this offer, Horl looks suddenly very interested. You begin to haggle over specifics, letting Dante take the lead.
Demonstrating the ability to likely find your way to the temple on your own, as well as pointing out that whatever purely archaeological finds you return with will likely be of great value, you convince Horl that a 25% cut in return for all the information he has on the Temple Complex and the Makon in general is equitable. Furthermore, he agrees to use what money he has saved to bankroll your preparation costs as his "initial investment."
"We'd heard you were looking to put together an expedition and when some people show up to do just that you say no? Awful small minded of you don't you think?" Dante starts, loosing his patience. At the look from the others he grunts and tries a different tactic. "Drop it another 10% and we'll also leave you with the only copy we make of the layout as far as we explore. Even notes on possible traps, paths we can't follow, archaeological discovers we can't take, structure and integrity. Luca has excellent handwriting and I have engineering knowledge. An initial survey might make the Order more amenable to an expedition."
Luca listened as Tyrus and Dante dickered with the man, aiming to get the best deal for themselves. In particular, Dante... um... didn't sound like he was being the most patient and understanding he could be, and Luca quietly tugged on his sleeve. "Um, maybe you should leave the talking to Tyrus..." she said nervously, noting Horl's generally poor reaction. Still, giving Horl a 25% cut seemed fair enough to her. (...Admittedly, she was kind of a pushover on things like this. Her formal education told her what was appropriate, but the rest of her education, particularly when she'd been locked up, had taught her to be grateful for scraps and expect no fair deals, much less generosity.)
"Deal... at five percent less. My share being twenty percent, then. I don't imagine you all are competent enough to plunder the whole place at one go, after all."
Tyrus gave up on the negotiations as Dante took the lead. The two youngsters had proven themselves much better at negotiation than he had.
That sounded like the best they could get so Dante shakes the mans hand firmly. "Alright. Let's see what you have."
"We've taken you at your word." Tyrus interjected "If this is some half-scrawled fantasy on the back of some palimpset, we'll consider you in breach."
Horl turns a haughty expression on Tyrus. Leaving his counter, he moves to a back room and rummages around for some time. When he returns he is carrying several scroll tubes and a sheaf of vellum.
"My research on the Makon spans nearly fifteen years. Five of those focused on this temple site in particular. I was never one of the leading experts on the civilization, but I do believe I'm one of the only ones to take a deep interest in this region."
Horl loses the notes of irritation in his voice, but gains a streak of arrogance as he begins to go over, in-depth, many of his notes, maps, and theories about the temple. He picks up speed and enthusiasm as he proceeds, but after over a solid hour of talking he looks up and stops abruptly.
"I have another engagement tonight. Return tomorrow, and we shall continue."
When you return the next day, you are startled to see a pair of figures waiting in Horl's shop. The historian looks at you with a sardonic smile.
"When it rains it pours. These two gentlemen have just been inquiring about the very same location as you fine people." Horl motions to the waiting figures.
As soon as she saw the new figures, Luca ducked behind Tyrus so as to draw as little attention to herself as possible. His bulk helped with that. She was young - almost too young for the kind of work being discussed - and her expression made it clear that she was nervous at best when it came to meeting new people.
Tyrus is apologetic when the man returns. Time in an educational institution furnished him with an understanding of academics, and he does his best to ask interesting questions.
"Well. Gentlemen. I'm afraid my company has engaged master Horl already. I salute your perspicacity. I take it you've also been in touch with the order. Might I ask your purpose, and resources?" he smiled "The most sensible course might be to merge our expeditions."
Tyrus felt the grin stick to his face and sweat trickle down his back. "Start aggressively" he had often been told, and he hoped a strong questioning of these newcomers might lessen their inquisition of his own 'company'.
The half elf has a very striking appearance. He is a tall, broad-shouldered creature with corded muscles and various scars snaking over his body. Half of his left ear is missing as if it was bitten off by something, and there are burn scars running from his arms to his chest and up his neck to his face. He has dusky gray skin and smoky-gray hair that falls down loosely past his shoulders. He wears a finely made chain shirt but beyond that seems to have only very simple weaponry.
He frowns from the center of the room, jaded eyes sweeping over the newcomers, as if sizing them up. As the wizened man talks over his head, the half-elf grunts an acknowledgement. "Heard there was work to be done here. Needed new work. Couldn't hurt to have a few more watching our backs." He peers down trying to see where the little human went.
Tyrus immense girth hides Luca more than adequately. The man is simply enormous, stretch marks evidence his new size was recent enough his skin had not yet accommodated. His skin was flushed, his mein flushed, and his eyes bloodshot.
The long haired man wore a decoratively armoured coat - in the style of armour, rather than armour itself. He was loaded down with pouches and vials.
The half elf gives a scowl at the man's appearance, but based on the creases in his face he does a lot of scowling. He hasn't had the best history with fat men, especially with old fat men. They tend to be the kind of people sitting in the stands, laughing and pointing and stuffing their face as he fought and bled. But this one has an air of hardness about him as well, a stark contrast to the palpable softness of the slavers. Besides, who am I to rush to judgement? His scowl lessens and he offers a hand, scarred and calloused with a vice-like grip. "Kienyach Vonnarc. Call me Kien."
Dante immediately folds his arms over his chest at the news that these men were inquiring about the same place. His body language indicates he is not happy with the situation. Dante is small of stature but lithe of form. Black haired and blue eyes that might have once been full of wonder. But life had obviously knocked a little more than sense into him. There is a garish scar on the left side of his neck, another cleaving an eyebrow and one on his chin. They looked relatively new.
"Couldn't hurt to have a few more watching our backs."
"It could if our potential partners were less than upfront about who they were. Either I am meeting a 600 year old legend who miraculously came to life or your name isn't Kienyach Vonnarc. Guess where I am placing my bet."
Kien's eyes sweep over the lithe human. Just got a taste of it, he has. His face goes back to a scowl as his name is questioned. There's a break in the conversation, long enough to warrant some very noticeable discomfort.
Don't be an ass. Kid looks like he's gotten roughed up recently. Wary is all. Wouldn't you be?
"Right you are. Left my old name in the past, where it belongs." He finally says.
"Convenient," he says, obviously suspicious. "So you're a hero then? Here to help a man fulfill his life's dream? Stop the undead scourge?"
Kien takes a long breath. "I'm no hero. I'm a man with bloody hands that don't know how to do much else, so I figured I ought to direct them at something that deserves it for once. Helps that it pays the rent." He shrugged. Might as well be honest, he's not the crusader type.
Dante stares at the man for a long moment before looking over at Horl. "You disappeared yesterday and said we'd get the rest of the information today. I assume these two are the ones you went to meet. Is the rest of the information contingent on us working with them?"
Horl scoffs. "Most certainly not, to both the explicit and the implied inquiry. Last night I spent the evening in the company of a young woman - you should try it some time. These two showed up at my shop this morning, asking about the temple. I told them I'd already arranged a deal with another set of daring adventurers and that they could take it up with you." Horl looks thoughtful for a moment. "Though I suppose there was nothing in our deal about the information I give you needing to be exclusive..."
The Dresna just kept his silence, preferring to let his half-elf companion do the initial talking. Finally, after several moments of analyzing the group around them - and after Horl spoke - Timm introduced himself.
I am no hero either. - he started - You may call me Timm. I'd argue we should all go together, assuming our intentions are aligned.
His smile came out easy. He had an impressive aura about him - a little intimidating, it's true, but certainly friendly - despite the fact he was a Dresna, and his clothes hinted more of a pirate individual.
He extended his hand, and the wooden holy symbol of Cyaile could be seem within his clothes.
Shall we work together? - he said, gently.
Kien takes an impatient inhale, muttering a curse in elven. Hell is his problem? Either work with us or tell us to piss off.
From her place behind Tyrus, Luca continued to watch the new people - and a not-so-small part of her was wondering if there was going to be some kind of reaction to them. Both seemed rather dangerous, all things considered, and there was usually some kind of reaction to that, although maybe it would be fine for now...? "Um... it... probably wouldn't hurt to have some more help... a-after what happened in the city..."
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Kien arcs a brow at the little girl being part of this expedition, but he's seen little girls bite out the throats of grown men, so he stays silent.
Dante stared daggers at Horl. His gaze then transfers to the other two men. It lingers longest on Kien but it is obvious he is struggling with something internally. He looks back at Luca when she speaks and sighs. A lot of pent up emotion leaves with that single breath too. "It's because of what happened last time that I am reluctant to do this." He turns back to Kien and Timm, less suspicious but more critical. "Hope you guys are as tough as you look." That was probably as close to an okay as he was willing to admit.
Kien nods with a grunt. Oh I got that, I got that in spades. The only thing I'm better at than throwing hits is taking them.
He gives another glance to the girl, then sets his eyes on Horl. "So what's the plan than?"
Tyrus coughs politely, then steps forward, takes a deep breath, and speaks.
"I realise we're an... unconventional group, but we've survived surprisingly well. Sadly, we've lost companions. While we all took it badly, Dante took it especially badly."
Tyrus looks at the young girl, and the scarred young man, then looks back "I realise two young people and an old fat man probably doesn't look particularly intimidating. All of us are students of the Arcane. I'm a wizard with a few decades of teaching experience. Dante's a wizard and a Blademaster. Luca" here he gestures to the young woman behind him "is one of the most talented Summoners I've seen in decades. Between us we're much more dangerous than we look."
"As for heroes - hardly. I'm a specialist in Transmutation and - more recently - Necromancy. Luca's summons are functional, but disturbing. Only Dante here still has the optimism of youth - he's the one interested in heroism."
"I'll be honest here, gentlemen. We're looking for money. We were overconfident about how we'd we'd do in Keldrat, and while we've all managed to get day jobs, none of us are looking to settle down here. We were chasing down details on a nearby ruined temple in orc territory when we discovered Master Horl here had been doing the same. It made more sense to trade him a percentage for his preparation. I've no intention of underestimating the danger again, and I'm more than happy to trade off some reward for lessened risk." Tyrus looks around at his companions for agreement.
"Currently Master Horl will receive a 20% share of our profit, in exchange for research, preparation, and partial funding. We'll also be handing him back an exclusive report of what we find in the hopes of a later - and official - expedition. That leaves 26% share for Luca, Dante and myself. If we amalgamate our resources, that'd lower. With an even split, to 16%." He looks the two gentlemen over.
"Mr Kien, Mr Timm, forgive my bluntness, but what do you bring to the company worth us giving up two fifths of our money?"
Well its dangerous. You knew that coming in. As he announces they're all mages he exhales a humorless chuckle through his nose. No wonder they're losing people. Mages are powerful, no doubt, but crumble without some strong men in front of them. They need their cannon fodder. Suppose that's me. Kien frowns at mention of necromancy. "What like making undead?" He's had more than one bout with the undead. Vile creatures. Mindless killing machines.
He nods at the general plan. Great. Clear goal. He goes back to frowning at all the detailed talk of money and percentages. And then wanting to weigh up their abilities to see what they're worth. Perhaps this old fat man wasn't so different after all. "You're all mages, right? In my experience mages don't like to be up close and personal. I'll be what stands between you and whatever things we find down there. Up close and personal is what I do."
Timm smiles, showing a bright gold tooth between the other teeth.
I suppose I can help in this front too. - he finally said, knocking his shield twice - I'm a man of Cyaile. Different than your arcane powers, I have spells she grants me that allow me, between other things, to cure wounds and bless the actions of my allies.
The starknives he carried were also fairly obvious - and sharp. He didn't look particularly strong or nimble, but carried himself in an impressive way.
"I'd rather be safe..." Luca said quietly as Tyrus explained their group's overall motivations. A bit of risk was one thing, but... well, if you wanted to survive, you had to be a good judge of whether or not you could actually get something done.
At Timm's mention of Cyaile, though, Luca was both interested and worried. She couldn't help but remember Anastacia... but she'd been a follower of Felathren, not Cyaile, so there probably wasn't any connection there. Still, she was always a little nervous around the followers of deities, since she doubted they would approve of her on general principles. She was also rather curious to see how Kineyach would do on the front lines... especially when they started showing up. By this point, she was essentially resigned to the inevitability of the Void sending its minions.
"Bad news for you then, because where you're going safety is in somewhat short supply," Horl says. "If you folks are done growling at each other, let's get back to this little endeavor that should bring us all a comfortable sum of money."
Horl has pulled out a new, thin leather-bound tome. He opens it to reveal a collated and summarized version of his notes on the temple, as well as its known and likely defenses. The tome also has a couple of pages devoted to the sort of things you should bring back if you are able (the archaeological finds that will fetch the best price).
The complex you are headed for was ruled by an ancient Mage-Priest of the Makon who broke away from his kingdom to rule his own land. He had a reputation as a mighty wizard and conjurer and later in life acquired the name of "The Demon Eater," though exactly why is unknown. Makon rulers were notorious for making deals with Outsiders of all kinds in exchange for greater earthly power, though.
This particular ruler was known to be insular, having controlled only a relatively small amount of land, but despite repeated attempts no others were ever able to conquer him.
"These ought to help you once you've reached the complex itself. The Makon were advanced magic users, and the reputation of this particular Mage-Priest was high. You can expect magical traps and defenses of many sorts, especially targeted at other magicians. Some of them may have faded away by now, but it's very possible some remain."
Next, he takes out a carefully copied hide map set into well-tanned leather. "The paper one would have fallen apart out in the jungle. I constructed this map from assembling several sources. It will certainly get you to the right area, but once you've reached the end of the path shown here you may need to look around to find the temple itself." Horl describes a few of the signs that should lead you in the right direction. "And of course, the path itself may well be hazardous, with beasts and orcs and the jungle itself, but that is your business, not mine. Is there anything else you need from me?"
"Great." said Tyrus flatly "Defusing magical traps - and doubly so if designed to thwart mages - is a difficult and dangerous proposition. As a first level, at least one of us will need to be attuned for magical energy at any time. We also need to check for traps more conventionally - all too possible to use an advanced spell to hide any telltale signatures."
He sighs "Well, I suppose if it were easy it would already have been done."
"The orcs, then; I don't suppose anyone" here the wizard looks at the two newcomers "is able to speak orcish? Has a knowledge of - or better yet experience with - the local tribes? How about navigation through the jungle?"
"I understand there is a significant issue with insects and diseases. Given some time and money I can develop something that'll protect us from those." he looks at Horl "What's the scale here? How long would it take us to travel there and back?"
After a moment, Luca glanced up at Tyrus. "Um... that thing... can get rid of a lot of traps..." she said quietly. "And we can always just set them off if we need to." It wasn't like she didn't have a ton of completely disposable bodies to throw into them until they stopped functioning, especially if time was no issue. She was fairly certain the powers that controlled her would be fine with that, actually, given the likelihood of success.
Great. Traps. "Suppose I'll take point than. I got sharp eyes, and worse comes to worse I'll probably survive a trap."
Cyaile is a freewheeling goddess beloved of wanderers, explorers, and lovers of adventure for adventure's sake. She is also often revered by those who operate in grey areas of law. Many halfling communities revere her as being their divine progenitor together with the god Hadrold.
Due to her very nature worship of Cyaile is widespread and unorganized. Small shrines dedicated to her are sometimes found in remote and hard-to-reach areas.
Cyaile's hatred for slavery and stagnation is well known. In some Pantheons she takes the aspect of a trickster goddess who favors pranks at the expense of authority figures.
"Assuming no long delays - and a decent pace," Horl says as he side-eyes Tyrus's bulk, "It shouldn't be more than three days journey to get there. Even faster on the way back, unless you've really loaded down with treasures. So take your time on the way back."
Timm closed his fists, and his eyes made obvious his hatred towards the creatures - orcs - when he heard it. That would be natural for almost any Drecna, but especially to an Utenvari like the Inquisitor.
I don't know their disgusting language. - he finally spoke, and his tone had changed a lot from the gentle tone as before - But I'd gladly make them all scream their guts off.
Breathing deeply, he calmed down. He continued speaking on his heavily accented Obanese.
I'm sorry. Old memories. Anyway, I can't unfortunately deal with the traps either, but I can help navigating the wild, even though it's not my specialty. Cyaile shall unchain our minds and guide our path.
"Very well. Is there anything else we need to discuss?"
"While necromancy is most famous for the animation of the dead, it's not something I've ever done. I've controlled an undead once, dispelled a number, and turned the living into the dead. It's in the binding of the soul to the flesh that I find my speciality. All too often as a doctor I find I can repair the body, only to find the spirit is too weak to remain." Tyrus' words suggested white necromancy, but his mien suggested he kept something back.
Should we work out prep and purchases?
Kien growls an acknowledgement, but doesn't comment. "I'm ready to go whenever you guys are."
Having decided to pool their efforts, the newly-enlarged group goes about their preparations for the trip. Horl is as good as his word for his assistance, and in addition to paying for the purchases, puts you in contact with several outfitters who - despite the local fixation on the ruins - maintain inventory fit for jungle explorers as well.
It only takes a couple of days to get things together. Tyrus, Dante, and Luca take their leave from the occupations they had maintained in the weeks of relatively quiet living in Keldradt.
All of you leave on good standing with your prospective employers and groups, who are used to transients coming and going as whim steers them.
On the morning of departure, you are escorted to the north wall by a pair of guards. They lead you to a gate "guarded" only by an elderly, portly guardswoman who is sleeping as you approach, but whom shows no embarassment at being woken. The gate itself is so seldom used that the two guardsman are forced to ask Kienyach's help in order to convince the rusted hinges to yield to opening. On the other side you have an unfettered view of the jungle dominating the horizon.
With Timm leading the way, Horl's map in hand, you set out.
Truth be told, Luca both was and wasn't going to miss her job scribing things. It was safe, but she had never quite been comfortable there, in no small part because of how frightened she was of people in general. She'd never really felt like she could talk to them about much of anything outside the work... and so aside from social things like that dinner (which was practically automatic), she really hadn't.
She didn't want her most frequent 'companion' to show up - but she didn't have much choice in the matter, either. Out of sight of the city, Luca's eyes glazed over and she began muttering in a language complicated enough that most people wouldn't have believed one human mouth could speak it. Soon thereafter, her Eidolon - a small, dark-furred creature with too many eyes that didn't seem to have a form so much as a space it occupied - rose out of the ground and stalked a little ways ahead of the girl, clearly scouting the path. Her eyes didn't return to normal for a few minutes afterwards... and she didn't look at all pleased with its presence.
Timm follows along, keeping some distance from the outsider so he can properly scout. The pirate doesn't mind staying towards the front of the group, since he probably had a little more defenses than the arcane casters. Kien probably would want to stay around there too, since it's more of his abilities as a brawler.
Kien sets out, stalking ahead of the group. But no sooner had they left the city than the little child started going through some kind of exorcism. As the monstrosity goes ahead Kien scowls. "The hell was that?"
At the gate he raises a brow at the guardsman, then grunts as he forces the old gate open.
"She calls him Fluffy," Dante says with a little smirk. He had forgotten how people would react to the otherworldly creature. "Very useful for scouting. It was bigger before."
Timm finds the map to be surprisingly accurate, and has no trouble sussing out the path. The first day and night pass uneventfully. The cloying heat and humidity hang omnipresently as you trudge along, and you get used to being constantly soaked half in sweat and half in condensation.
Midway through the second day, as you move through a hilly, folded area of the jungle along a valley floor, "Fluffy" suddenly halts in its tracks and sniffs at the path ahead. It pads back to Luca and speaks in its strange language to her.
"There is danger along this path."
By reading the map and your general understanding of the land, you know that you can probably climb into the adjacent valley and follow it parallel to this one, crossing back over when necessary. The climb doesn't look too difficult, but the wetness of the valley walls make mudslides a danger.
Timm stops the others, and pulls the map to point as he speaks in a pragmatic voice.
We could try to climb up here... - his fingers move through the detailed map - ... But it's quite the dangerous task. The valley looks quite wet, so we could trigger a mudslide by accident. I don't see a way to sink a grapple, but if one of us could make the climb, probably this person could hold a rope for the others, or tie it on a tree.
He scratches his not-too-well-shaved-at-all face, muttering a Hmm... while thinking. Drecnas think about climbing almost instinctively due to the years up the rigging, but his own armor was a hindrance for that specific task.
"Um... it says there's danger ahead of us..." Luca said quietly. She looked down at her Eidolon a moment later. <"Ya stell'bsna ee. Ah f'bthnk.>" she told it, apparently under the impression the danger involved living things of some kind - although she wasn't actually sure on that, and was just kind of throwing out a guess here. That said, the alien language seemed to be even more familiar to her than Obanese.
"Did it...say what kind of danger?" he asks Luca, beginning to grow concerned. The last time they underestimated an enemy, well he didn't like to dwell on it. He looks at the climb and down the path. "Can either one of you climb good? We've gotten by on mostly luck," he says, looking at Timm and Kien.