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The meeting in Absalom with Drandle Dreng nearly a month ago was brief, as always. “I have a routine mission for you, though a dangerous routine mission,” the old man whispered in the great hall in the Grand Lodge. Suffering from a cold and weak from lack of food and rest, the old venture-captain looked quite possibly the worst you’d ever seen him.
Through wracking coughs he explained, “An ally of ours in the Land of the Linnorm Kings—Rognvald Skagni—is writing a lengthy report on the state of government in the northern countries of Avistan. I received a letter from him just yesterday requesting several key documents from the vaults here to help him finish the report.”
Venture-Captain Dreng patted a large, heavy-looking chest next to him.
“These are the documents, and I need you to board a ship north to deliver them to Skagni.”
Dreng tried to stand at that point, but a fit of coughing sent him back into his seat. He gestured for a well-dressed, impeccably kept man standing in the shadows of the roomy to approach and whispered raspy orders to him. The man picked up a small pouch and a large key and handed them both to the party.
“Venture-Captain Dreng is unwell, as you can see. He wished me to give you this key and this pouch of gold. The key opens the chest, and the gold will buy you passage and get you from the Linnorm coast to Trollheim, where Skagni resides. Whatever you do, do not let the chest out of your sight and do not, under any circumstances, allow it to be searched. These documents are for Mr. Skagni’s eyes only. Are we understood?”
Dreng’s nameless servant waited for a reply and then smiled.
“Good. Now run along; Venture-Captain Dreng needs his rest.”
The chest of document is quite heavy, weighing in a 100 pounds, 2 feet wide, 3 deep and 4 feet long, heavy oak, bound with iron and locked with a hefty, finely crafted steel lock.
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Roary nods and hefts the chest up onto his shoulder with ease.. "Understood.. His eye's only.." He looks to the other Pathfinders.. "Names Roary.. I'll be at the docks waiting for when everyone is ready.. Id suggest you buying some cold weather outfits." And with that he heads out, chest on his shoulder..
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The pretty, olive-skinned young man spends most of the meeting looking expectantly at the door. Finally, he speaks up in an unexpectedly deep voice, "Sooo, neither Omorose nor Nari are coming on this mission? Hmmm... *sniff* It looks like our little Random is growing up."
He stops joking to try to catch up on the mission, "So the key goes to the lock that goes to the chest that goes to hairy barbarian land - wait, do barbarians have checkpoints? Can they even read? No offense," he adds, in deference to the apparent hairy barbarian in the room.
When Roary walks out with the chest, he concedes it's a good plan. "Sounds like a good plan. He protects the chest alone, and the rest of us escort the key on a separate trip. After all, no one will be able to open the chest without the key. Unless they can pick locks or something. But what are the odds that someone who wants to steal something would also be good at picking locks? That'd be a heck of a coincidence! What should we tell people the key goes to, if we're questioned?"
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Kynn sat quietly through the meeting, watching the others in the room and saying nothing. He has been strangely content, comfortable, even though it is clear that the clothes on his back are likely most of his possessions. Fancy clothes but no accents to go with. No rings, broaches, necklaces.
Cold attire, now where did I leave those? he asks himself, clearly meaning to be heard. Kynn unfolds his crossed legs, traverses the office and snags the pouch and key off the desk. Bouncing the coin bag in his hand a few times he looks up and flashes a charming grin.
The docks then. and exits the room.
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"Got it," is all Torrian says when they get their instructions. He looks askance as the barbarian shoulders the chest without apparent effort.
"Geez, seems like the Captain's on his way out. Wonder who's gonna get the promotion when he shuffles it off?" Torrian wonders as the others ask their questions.
It had been a surprise to get the summons for this official Society mission, but at least now it was obvious why he had been tapped. He'd picked up Skald, the language of the north, back in his days on the streets. There was a lively little criminal family of ex-northmen thriving on the means streets of Magnimar, and several of them had been tight with the elven outcast.
"Been awhile since I've spoken it, though. Guess I'd better remember in a hurry."
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Outside, Random nods to the others to come catch up with Roary. "Now we could spend this whole trip stabbing anyone who asks what's in the treasure chest, or we could move its contents into something less conspicuous, and fill the chest with something innocent, so we can freely sate the curiosity of anyone who asks. I'm thinking ladies' undergarments. We say we're going to try to sell them to the lady barbarians. Or male barbarians - you never know. But it's a whole untapped market! It'd be foolish to not bring a trunk full of ladies' undergarments!" Random's eyes gleam thinking of the profit potential (and the idea of tricking every curious meddler along the journey).
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"Nobody said to look at them. It's a wonder Pathfinders can walk down the street, since the answer to everything is 'stab 'em!' Guy says, 'good morning!' Pathfinder says, 'stab 'em'. You'd think the city guard would notice the path of dead civilians everywhere an agent goes. Should call us 'Pathclearers'... well, I'll meet y'all at the docks then."
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Unwilling to cause waves on his first assignment, Kynn refrains from responding in any way to the ladies undergarments discussion. He turns towards the city, aiming to get himself some garments that will help with he upcoming weather, but not give away that this is his first assignment.
Need to get my gear, I'll see you all at the docks.
With that, he heads off.
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"Thinking the big guy is right on this one. We get to this Skagni guy and the scrolls ain't in the chest, ya think he's gonna believe we didn't take a little peek at 'em ourselves?" Torrian says.
"Damn, now I want to take a peak. Secret documents to help prepare a report... can't even guess what might be in 'em. Probably boring, but never could resist a secret. Killed the cat indeed."
"C'mon, let's get to the docks and get this done. I'm looking forward to our payout."
The directions to Skagni’s home provided by Venture- Captain Dreng’s assistant are unclear, but after a few wrong turns due to poor handwriting, the party finally locates their destination.
Where the directions indicate Skagni’s house should be stands only the charred husk of a burnt-out building. Bits of burnt timber and ruined furniture lie scattered about, but if anything remained after the fire, it seems to have been picked over and looted. Though most of the walls are blackened with soot, a patch along the former front of the residence still shows relatively clean, white walls. Smeared across those white walls, written in reddish-brown letters four feet tall, are the words, Pathfinders go home.
The reddish-brown stuff is blood.
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Torrian surveys the scene with dismay. "Shit."
... Any of you folks good at talking?"
Torrian reluctantly nods. "I speak the language. I'll go to ground and see what the locals know. Keep that chest safe."
The elf finds the nearest watering hole and plops himself at the bar, ordering a mug of whatever's cheapest. He tries to discretely gather info on what might have happened to Skagni's place, and to Skagni himself.
A group of sturdy-looking thug suddenly move from the bushes onto the ruined patch. Their leader shouts Capture that one! pointing at Kynn, kill the others!
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Kynn
Lorimsy
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Thug
Thug
Thug
Thug Leader
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Roary
Random
Torian
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Kynn weaves a spell after the shock of being targeted wears off. Lorimsy doesn't hesitate, and throws a bomb at the group of thugs, catching all of them in the blast.
After the blast has caught them unawares, the bandits scatter and start hurling throwing axes in the direction of the party. Lorimsy takes a bad hit to the leg, while Roary is also clipped by one of the thrown blades.
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Roary - 4 hp dmg
Random
Torian
Kynn
Lorimsy - 7 hp dmg
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Thug (4)
Thug (15)
Thug (2)
Thug Leader (4)
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[ooc]This internet speed in this hotel is made of lose.
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Random yells. He draws his bow as he moves to get a clear shot at one of the thugs, and then looks around at his fellow Pathfinders as he nocks his first arrow. "What? Sometimes it is the answer." He pulls the string back and fires well over the thugs. "Ouch. I meant, 'Stab 'em if they don't heed this warning shot!'"
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As the clumsily-thrown axe spins harmlessly by him, Torrian draws a dart from his belt and hurls it at the seeming leader of the enemies.
"At the eyes!" he thinks savagely, mentally repeating the advice of an old mentor. Briefly he wishes he could have dipped the dart in some virulent venom, as the most feared street fighters did.
After Derrick fires off his 'warning shot', Roary runs up to smash the thug in front of him into a briny pulp. Torrian's dart hits the leader almost in the eye. Lorimsy retrieves a potion and drinks it, her cursing abating as she starts feeling better. Boy, can she curse!
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Roary
Random
Torian
Kynn
Lorimsy
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Thug (4)
Thug (7)
Thug (2)
Thug Leader (8)
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As Lorimsy stepped aside, Kynn was able to get a good look at the leader of the thugs, the one who had singled him out.
Take me will you? I think not.
Without the need this time to even say anything, Kynn brought his hands together, fingers out but cupped as if holding a sphere, heels of his palms touching. A blast of electricity flashed out at the Thug heavy.
The ray of electricity hits the leader, who twists and contorts as the electricity hits him. Barely standing, he tries to get away, and makes a break for it.
The other thugs scoff at their leader as only Ulfen men can do, and continue their assault. The two men next to Roary try to surround him, and attack with their short axes from both sides, with some success: one of the men creates a diversion, while the other manages to draw blood from the barbarian.
The final thug runs up at Lorimsy, and starts hacking away as well.
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Roary
Random
Torian
Kynn
Lorimsy
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Thug (4)
Thug (7)
Thug (2)
Thug Leader (14) - Fleeing
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Roary pays like for like - with interest. The small cut Roary receives - nothing more than a superficial paper cut - gets translated into an enormous whallop of a blow, cutting the bandit straight in half.
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Roary
Random
Torian
Kynn
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Thug (4)
Thug - Dead
Thug (2)
Thug Leader (14) - Fleeing
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Lorimsy
Derrick fires an arrow at the retreating leader, which whizzes over its head. With a smug grin, the leader looks back, only to be hit in the face by Kynn's missile, taking him out.
The two bandits still standing keep hacking away with their axes, though the blows are easily dodged.
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Roary
Random
Torian
Kynn
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Thug (4)
Thug - Dead
Thug (2)
Thug Leader - Dead
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Lorimsy
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Changing position with all the other movement, Kynn can see that this scuffle is nearly over. Carefully stepping to get a clear shot at Lorismy's assailant, Kynn mutters a few syllables while flicking his fingers, as if snapping water off into someone's face. Instead of water however a sickly, acidic green glob appears and streaks toward the thug.
Random outflanks the bandit attacking Lorimsy, and stabs him in the back while a glob of acid flies by. Meanwhile, Torrian manages to similarly outflank the assailant of roady, only to see him disintegrate before his eyes, the result of mighty barbarian blow.
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Roary
Random
Torian
Kynn
Lorimsy
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Thug - Dead
Thug - Dead
Thug 7)
Thug Leader - Dead
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