The Grinning Pixie is a three-masted schooner, designated a trading vessel. She sometimes flies the flags of Varisia and Magnimar; on other days, Absalom or Taldor. She plies the shores of the Arcadian Ocean, picking up cargo here and selling it there, often at a small loss. Her captain, Calistro Benary, doesn't seem to mind.
There's a secret in the hold of the ship, known only to the officers and long-time crew: the Pixie serves the Pathfinder Society as a floating lodge and research station, keeping a strictly mercantile profile in ports where the Society is unwelcome or on missions where discretion is required.
This week, each of you have received orders to report to the Grinning Pixie as passengers. The ship begins up in the Land of the Linnorm Kings and sails south, across the mouth of the Inner Sea, towards Cheliax. Where did you board the ship? What do you do during the days it takes to collect each of you?
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A small but remarkably zippy gnomess boards the ship with a jaunty wave as she moves with a speed that is not common to those of her stature. She has hair of poppy-red spilling out from under a bright metal helm that matches a bright breastplate that is coloured in places with a flame motif that matches the little gnome's hair and somehow compliments her peppy demeanour.
Some would say she was a "Grinning Pixie" herself.
She got her orders to board in Magnimar, where had been recuperating and conducting meetings with new associates after a recent brush with permanent and final death and more recent clash of conscience that saw her leave behind her old affiliations to her native land to pursue more... challenging studies.
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Rayne boards after his trials in Tar Kuata. There seemed to be a cute gnome with seemingly boundless energy already on board. Rayne is a devilishly handsome Chelish man, roughly 2 decades old. His dark flowing locks reach to his chest where you can see a hint of a well made chainshirt underneath his clothing. His bow seems almost brand new and custom made and has the initials "R.D" carved into it. His five-o-clock shadow just enhances his rugged good looks. "A private meeting with a beautiful female captain? This'll totally end well for me."
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It was fortunate that he was in the caravan that would have taken him North. It was unfortunate that it would be in the cold biting winds that would see him board the ship. Swathed in furs traded from the Caravan in lieu of gold payment, Alden looked around on the deck before finding a bunk with the captain's permission, his orders received via a hidden missive which took him some time to piece together from the original sent to him.
The clank of metal doesn't impede him as he strides around the ship though he would usually be below decks studying.
Rayne, it's not long before a half-orc woman with steel in her eye and cold metal capping her tusks walks over to you. She grasps you by the forearm and introduces herself. "Venture Captain Calistro Benary. Nice to have you on board, however short your passage might be." She then moves on to other duties.
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Also boarding in Magnaimar, a raven haired embarks on the Grinning Pixie. She seems to have very high expectations from the crew and fussily orders them to bring her belongings below deck. Worn around her neck on a leather choker is a silver pentagram of Asmodeus. She follows the tattooed sailor below deck to her bunk, fussing over his placement and treatment of her gear. Once settled, she spends much of her time below deck reading a well worn leather book, with a metal clasp on it.
Once everyone is aboard and the ship pulls out of harbor, making its way down the coast, crewmen direct you to a room hidden in the aft section of the hold. The large table and chairs dominate a room tastefully decorated in dark wood and slate, with charts decorating each wall. The lighting comes from three spheres which make their way around the room in long, slow arcs.
Muscular and imposing in her green-dyed longcoat, tunic, and puffed trousers, the captain kicks out a chair for herself from under the massive oak table at the center of her well-furnished meeting room and sits down. “Welcome to your briefing, Pathfinders. Enjoy your passage while it lasts, ‘cause by Sunday night you’ll be off the boat."
Captain Benary changes her posture slightly and looks sidewise at Lady al-Azario. "Ah, I'm afraid things are likely to get worse afore they get better."
She crosses to one of the charts and indicates a position about thirty miles out from land. “We’re a day’s sail from a rendezvous with a Pezzacki whaler, the Patience, which has permits to cross the Chelish blockade to fish. That town’s been locked down since the people upended the empire’s government five years ago, and those permits are hard to come by.
"We’d teleport you into Pezzack if the damned devilfolk didn’t have the place blanketed with spies, so instead we’ll throw you into the hold with the Patience’s catch." She glances around at Morrolan, Rayne, and Alden. "Which is good for you, trust me, because nobody in that town smells any better than you will.”
Pezzack is a coastal town in Cheliax. Its most prominent industry is whaling.
The town is under a strict blockade from the Chelish navy, and only whaling ships with the appropriate permits are allowed to pass in and out of the struggling city’s harbor.
Different factions vie for power in Pezzack: two of them are the idealist White Thistles, and the Loyalists, whose allegiance lies first and foremost with the empire of Cheliax.
Pezzack is a coastal town in Cheliax. Its most prominent industry is whaling.
Five years ago, a combination of Hellknights, guards loyal to the empire, and strix burned the city of Pezzack to the ground in a battle known as the Second Ashes. The Chelish navy established a blockade on Pezzack that persists to this day.
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Frissarose begins spewing questions, "Sounds smelly for sure...what's our mission when we get there?...is there another contact we're gonna meet?...Wait, isn't it whale oil that's stored in a whaler's hull?...are we gonna be able to breathe that stuff?..."
Her voice trails off as she pauses to take a big breath, presumably readying to ask more questions of their captain.
Calisro leans forward, and whispers gruffly, “You’ll make your way to my contact at the Academy of Applied Magic, a blue-haired little fellow named Professor Kalizandrex Poppo. He's been instructed to help you track down a trapped Pathfinder named Olandil, who’s been stuck there for five years. Your job’s to get him out. Be careful who you talk to, though, and how you ask questions. That place is more volatile than Gorum on a bender, and the more you poke around, the more likely you’ll be the next to burn it down.
"As far as the whale oil is concerned, you needn't worry. It don't seem that you need to breathe much anyways."
The Venture Captain draws a line on the chart with her finger, towards the shoreline. "“As for getting you out of the town, I know a thing or two about the sailing patterns of the ships around here. The Pixie can pick around the coast north of here for a week before Abrogail’s folk come asking questions.” Calisro smirks as she continues, “In case you hadn’t noticed, the Pixie, well, we look an awful lot like a pirate vessel, and the Chelish navy doesn’t exactly welcome pirates with open arms. You’d better get back here by then."
She sighs and closes her eyes ask she asks, "Any body have any questions?”
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Alden's years of training kicks in as Pavanna selects the most comfortable chair, he immediately pulls it out for her and waits before pushing it back in for her.
"No Milady, I'm afraid not. Business before Pleasure here seems to be the case."
Turning to the captain.
"Captain I have some questions. When was the last contact made with this Olandil? Who is this man? How are we supposed to get back if this whaler is going to bring us in but not out? What happens if we do set off something? And are we actually on a pirate ship??"
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"Well you're right about one thing, it's a volatile place. So we get in, talk to Poppo to get Olandil out and get out before the Pixie gets run out. I got the gist. If I remember correctly there are two groups. The Loyalists are hardcore Cheliaxians, we stay away from them as they're likely to rat us out. And there are the White Thistles, the obvious good guys. We can probably trust them. It's just a matter of figuring out who's who."
The half-orc nods approvingly. “Olandil is an old friend of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. I can't rightly say as the last time we made contact, one way or the other, but Dreng wants him out. And when Dreng wants someone smuggled out of a blockade, I don’t argue."
"The plan for getting you out doesn't have a lot of moving parts. Find out which whaler’s going out next and do what you can to get on it. I’ll have someone contact you magically and we can arrange a rendezvous. Don’t worry; I’ll get to you before the Chelaxians do.”
'If you set off a revolution? Well, the Chelish navy flattens Pezzack and the strix drop burning logs on the wreckage. You die, Olandil dies, and hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent folks die too." She pours herself a mug of rum and takes a sip. ' In short: don’t set off a revolution.”
Upon hearing Alden's last question, Benarry laughs, “No, we're not pirates. The Pixie s a merchant vessel with modifications that make her maneuverable and capable in a fight if it comes down to it. The same sorts of modifications that make her a great lodge also make her easy to confuse with a pirate vessel, and the Chelish navy ain’t exactly famous for asking first before opening fire.”
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I have a name we could try..., Frissa thinks, wondering when the right time to spill the beans on her secret mission. Since their extraction is to be by ship, it seems that there will be lots of room should there be an extra.
"Yeah, you're saying it's too dangerous to ask around in the streets for this guy - if Poppo's gone, should we push that line a little or bail out?"
If Poppo is not around do we have any info to locate the primary?[/b]
The half-orc thinks a moment, and then shrugs. "I don't know of any, but then Pezzack's a bit out of my regular line. Some of you may have contacts there, perhaps? Otherwise, you'll need to rely on native cunning and all."
Captain Bennary rings a bell and opens the door. "The Pixie is loaded with equipment. Let the quartermaster know what you'll be needin', and he'll sell it to you, top o' the line. If you want to make nice with the Patience, I'm given to understand that her captain is partial to brandy and Taldan sweets.
"If you'll be excusin' me, I have a ship to steer." And she leaves.
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Pavanna gives a slight nod at Alden's assistance. "Pavanna al-Azario, " she says by way of introduction.
After listening to the questions and comments of the others, Pavanna looks to the Venture-Captain and cool asks "What does this Olandil look like? Nobody is sure when his last contact was? That means we are likely picking up a rat, not a man."
"He's been trapped here five years, and we are just supposed to walk into town with a, " she pause, arches her left eyebrow and continues, "gnome and find him?" Looking at Frissarose she corrects herself, "Sorry, two gnomes. I am sure if you were to secure the proper documents, the Chelixan Navy would be perfectly reasonable to your merchant vessel sailing in their waters. There is a Request of Entry petition, a import declaration form and accompanying stamp, of course you'll need an export tax clearance voucher, as well as a Bellflower inspection seal before leaving again but most people can easily navigate these things nearly without assistance!"
To Rayne, Pavanna offers her commentary, "The Loyalists are bad, and the White Thistles are good. What a surprisingly binary world you must live in. Once you open your mind to the structure and order of the Cheliaxian people dear boy, you will find they are indeed quite reasonable and predictable."
"The Pathfinder agent has been passing messages to us through Professor Poppo. I'm not privy to all the deliberations that the Decemvirate make, but I would guess that he's found some information they need badly enough to risk the extraction."
And the half-orc grins cooly at the cleric. "Of course, all that documentation gives the Chelish navy ideas that it could just close in on us and inspect the Pixie, crow's nest to hull. How can I put this? 'We look forward to such a time as when we might enjoy the cooperation of House Thrune in our explorations.' But seeing as how the devilfolk currently don't care for the Society rooting around who-knows-where and uncovering Aroden-knows-what relics, we'll have to favor discretion over full authorization. As you say, good lady, the Chelaxians are awfully predictable."
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Frissa pinches her lips into two thin white lines at Pavanna's slight against her race, her abilities and her potential in this mission.
This must be why the Dark Archives were interested in someone like me. Old history, old thoughts, old loyalties would only lead to old results and never innovation.
For a woman so young, the Asmodean's words spoke of a crone's mind, rather than that of a young priestess on the verge of a lifetime of discovery. The rigidity of thought was astonishing, especially to the gnomish outlook that seeks eternal change.
She chortles a bit at Rayne's addendum though, "Now, we don't need to get into talk about whose race is a bunch of slave-hungry bureaucrats too interested in their own caste position to keep their empire from splintering...and whose is too...what?...short?...or something, to complete a mission...I'm sure even sprightly youths such as yourself, Pavanna, can bring more talents to the table than simply to be able to ask your betters and get bogged down in requisition forms and extradition treaties just to be back where we are now...on a boat and figuring out how to do our job without getting one of us killed."
She bows ever so slightly, and smiles with fire in her eyes, "Frissarose Hobblebom...My friends call me Frissa."
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"Alden Darkcrown. Pleased to make both of your aquaintances. We could continue sniping at each other but for now....." he bows to the Cleric of Asmodeous to show he means no slight. "....it seems that we have a job to do and it's quite a task. It's obvious the first task is to survive whale blubber and find this professor."
During the next day, the quartermaster approaches. "Beggin' the pardon, but I'd recommend you convert some o' your gold an' silver to foodstuffs an' trade goods. The Pezzacki don't got much use for coins, but sundries are good for barterin' with the locals."
During the late morning, the lookouts notice a bird following the ship at a distance, but slowly drawing nearer. Around noon, the lookout identifies it as an eagle.
As you completed the "Shards of Sin" adventure, you should have access to the resonance of the Shard of Pride, yes? If you're wondering about activating it, my ruling is that simply being on a mission for the Society or pursuing Zarta Dralneen's project does not trigger the sickened effect, but following someone else's orders while in the field would do so.
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Pavanna's eyes only briefly glance at Frissarose as she speaks, the Cheliaxian looks back to Alden. "We will soon find ourselves in the thick of things, that is for sure. Are you skilled in tracking?"
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At the quartermaster's suggestion, Pavanna moves close to Alden, resting her hand on his bicep as she speaks to him, "We should carry as much foodstuffs as you and Rayne can carry. Hunger is a powerful motivator, we can use that to our advantage."
She turns to face the quatermaster, "A very good suggestion. I understand your supplies may be of a ... limited quality but perchance would you have anything that would be of a more ... [b]exceptional quality? Brandy? Perhaps some decadent sweets?[/b]"
Pavanna, let's say you can convert anywhere up to 250 gp into sundries. That would weigh 50 pounds. Luxury goods as you please. The ship seems ... remarkably well-stocked.
By midafternoon, the eagle has closed in on the Grinning Pixie and begins circling. Without warning, it swoops down and catches the rigging only a couple of feet away from a spar, very close to Rayne. It has a note tied to its left leg, with a large glob of blue sealing wax clearly visible.
It looks at Pavanna, cocks its head to one side as if trying to get a better view, exhales sharply, and sidles down the rope closer to Rayne.
If Rayne takes the note, the eagle flies off, over Pavanna's head, and back towards shore to the east.
If Rayne does not take the note, the bird flies off to the east.
Pezzack! Imagine my pleasant surprise to hear I’d have agents in the heart of Cheliax’s rebellion.
While you have such a rare opportunity in such an inspirational city, seek out an original folio of songs or poetry by the legendary Amalia Wraxton to add to our collection.
Col. Maldris