It takes you about a quarter of an hour to reach the main village. There villagers are able to direct you to the Silver Flute Inn, the local inn run by a middle-aged woman named Ivy. The common room sports a silver flute on display in a glass case and several other musical instruments around the room.
"Welcome! Do you want to try your hand at playing our flute?" Ivy says in greeting.
"Rooms? Yes, yes. We're busy with the festival, but I still have two rooms left."
Greeda is able to obtain directions to Armeline's home. Her house is a relatively large home for the village and can be seen across the square from the inn. The villagers do not seem disturbed by the eclectic adventurers. Some seem outright curious.
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As they arrive Eamon lets a low whistle escape his lips, when he gathers in the size of the house in comparison, to those surrounding it. Well our quarry certainly hasn't made much effort to lay low, considering she was a hunted woman some years ago. Shall we announce ourselves? With full confidence the rest of his Pathfinder companions, would and will back his actions, Eamon walks straight up to the front door and raps on it lightly.
"I'm sure we have a bell around here," Ivy begins to look for one to Goran but becomes distracted when Greeda requests to play the silver flute. "Oh, yes, please. Try your hand."
The innkeeper and the few local patrons loitering all smile as Greeda plays (terribly). Ivy pats the wayang on the shoulder after she finishes murdering the flute. "You keep at it!"
Several villagers are more than happy to explain the coming festival to visitors. The Mercylight Festival is an annual festival held in Rosehaven to give thanks to Shelyn for her blessings and grace. As one might expect with a festival dedicated to Shelyn, it involves a variety of artistic expressions from singing to gourd carving.
Ivy answers Yelek's inquiry. "Of course. She lives in the big house across the square. She's a helpful woman, but she does like her time alone. She'll go off on hunting trips by herself for weeks at a time, and she loves to read. When she's here, she's almost always reading in her library."
After securing your rooms, you all march off to Armeline's house, and Eamon knocks on her door.
"Yes?" a half-elven woman matching Armeline's description opens the door. She initially appears cheerful as she greets her visitor, but then, slowly, a stony expression takes over.
"I am," she says coldly, "And you look like Pathfinders."
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Eamon is gregarious when greeting the woman he assumes Armeline. However, he quickly deduces that she still holds a grudge against Pathfinders. Eamon, is irritated by the inconvenience but, never-the-less understanding of her reasoning. Mistress Armeline, such an honor to meet you! Yes of coarse you are correct in your assumption we are Pathfinders. You must be wondering why after all these years, the Pathfinders have shown up on your doorstep. Eamon raises one eybrow above the other to emulate curiosity. Our mission is simply...we have come to apologize for the awfulness that happened many years ago. The events that transpired seemed to be out of our or anyone's control at the time. Eamon pauses to garner her reaction. However, that does not belay the fact that you most likely feel betrayed. So as a representative of the Pathfinder Society, let me formally apologize for not meeting our obligations to you all those years ago. Furthermore, allow me to offer the services of myself and my comrades...to you, as a way of mending fences and renewing old alliances...if you'll even considering opening up a new dialogue and partnership with the Pathfinder Society.
"All those years ago, trapped in a Galtan prison," Armeline begins coolly, "I sent letter after letter to the Decemvirate. They never sent a response. No heroic rescue by the Liberty's Edge. Nothing.
"After countless bowls of wormy gruel, after countless buckets filled with piss, after countless nights sleeping on the floor of a stone cell, I realized that nobody was going to rescue me. If I wanted out, I was going to have to do it myself. They would get around to executing me eventually, so sitting still served no purpose.
"I scraped together enough ingredients from around the dungeon and the prison yard to concoct a potion that disguised my appearance. This allowed me just enough time to escape the prison yard and get past the gate before the guards gave chase. I lost them, obviously, but it was a fright.
"All that taught me that the Society considers its contacts expendable. They're happy to ask you to risk your life for their errands, but when you need something? Nothing. You're hung out to dry. Left in the ditch. After I escaped, I looked into the Society. I found tales of other Pathfinder contacts placed in dangerous situations who died without any attempt at rescue.
"So you want me to forgive the Society for abandoning me?" She asks with a steely glint in her eye. Before you can answer her rhetorical question, she continues, "I'll think about it, but you should think about whether you want to serve an organization that will leave you high and dry when you need them most."
"Yes, well, I can see you're not bad people. Naive, probably," she says. "I don't have any tasks that need doing. I'm happy with my books. So go enjoy the festival before you return to your venture-captain."
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"This one is distressed to hear of such treatment and though the society is at fault at times, perhaps one must consider the circumstances of why the society is unable to do so. You mentioned Libtery's edge of which this one is a part of. " Sho pauses as he considers his next words carefully.
"This one feels that while the society has indeed failed you in some way, you have shown that you're indeed capable and is what the society needs to guide new agents such as myself. We shall enjoy the festival and wish you well for this time."
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"The Sssociety doesss thossse thingsss, it isss known. We all know there'sss risssksss involved in thisss line of duty, but the rewardsss are great asss well. I heard there once wasss a whole misssguided faction dedicated to the protection of agentsss from the sssupposssed missstreatment from the Council of Ten. How well do you think that went?" asks Yelek in his dour tone.
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Goran bows his head towards Armeline. Have a good day, ma'am. If you need us, you can get a hold of us fairly easy. he says as he takes his leave with the rest. After a ways, he ponders Well, that went fairly well...what say the rest of you? We should have some fun as well as she suggested...help blend in...
Armeline narrows her eyes at the nagaji. "I thought you were here to apologize, not criticize my feelings. Maybe I was wrong." She slams the door.
You return to the village square where the locals have erected dozens of hay bales and set out even more gourds. People--local and visitors alike--are now gathered around the yard listening to a priest of Shelyn giving the benediction for the festival.
He looks to several clusters of children and says, "Remember! No teasing or bragging. All art is equal in the eyes of Shelyn."
The priest steps down from his makeshift dais of hay and walks towards you.
“Welcome, travelers! You have picked an excellent day to visit Rosehaven. We’re celebrating Mercylight. As you just heard, this festival is dedicated to the grace of Shelyn, but you don’t have to worship Shelyn to participate. Go ahead, grab a pumpkin or two, and carve whatever you wish. There are plenty more in the fields, so don’t be shy!”
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Eamon walks away from Armeline's house with a sour feeling in his stomach. I suppose she's right in a way. We all are expendable in one way or another to the Society. But, there's a difference I choose to be part of the Pathfinders knowing that I'd be used as a tool. It seems our mission was recruited...then abandoned. Images of his father leaving when their home in Taldor, flooded Eamon's consciousness. I really can't blame here for holding a grudge.
Eamon is startled when a Priest of Shelyn ask him if he wanted to carve some sort of gourd. No, no thanks.. Eamon brushes off the request. Eamon looks around at the happy faces and the festive pride of people celebrating. They look to be having fun...what are they so happy about? Eamon's eyes wander to a banner hung between two lamp post. , it reads. Ah... that's right the festival! That's why everyone is out and about..the Venture Captain had hoped the spirit of the festival would help our cause in persuading Armeline...It appears Venture Captain Petulengro was a bit too optimistic about the effect of the festival on our would be contact.
Eamon looks around again at the children and adults interacting with one another. Some engaged in conversation, others eating, while a sizable group sat at nearby tables, knives busily working on their gourds. All the people, except his present Pathfinder companions, seemed to be smiling and having a good time. It's like they forgot their troubles and duties for a moment, and just decided to be happy. Eamon glanced back up at the banner for a moment. Hmm forgiveness..bah! Another flash of memory watching his father's carriage roll away. His father was on his way to the countryside, to go live with another woman besides mother. We all have something we hold on to.
Eamon looks at a child and an older man busily work on a gourd. Maybe an Uncle? The child's father? They're both smiling... Where'd you say that gourd patch was Father? I've changed my mind.
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"Goran, don't talk with your mouth full!" chides Greeda as she selects a small pumpkin, just the right size for her.
She attempts to carve into it with her sickle but finds that a bit too unwieldy. She has to borrow a carving knife from the Shelynite and then quickly sets to work carving an intricate wayang design into the pumpkin.
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Sho is utterly unsure how to go about it even as he remains as stotic as ever.
"This one will try his best." is all he can manage. Normally unshakeable, it takes him some time obviously to pick one pumpkin and when he does, it isn't a very big one either.
Picking up a nearby tool, it's apparent that his skills would naturally lie else where as he hollows out the pumpkin with no discernable shape.........
One of the locals answers Yellek's query. "Thirty years ago, Bertinand helped us to drive away a great evil and to come together in the spirit of forgiveness. The festival is about forgiveness and looking to the future, not the past. We carve the gourds as artistic sacrifices to Shelyn."
There are many gourds spread throughout the village square, so it is not difficult to find one. Eventually, the supply begins to run low and several villagers set out to gather more from the local farms. The children are particularly guilty of half-finishing a carving and then wanting a 'new one to start over' because of some minor mistake.
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Kyunjiro, thinking of what to carve, settles on making a fox on one side and a human on the other.
Kyunjiro is a natural at carving, or at least this time. A few townspeople and kids stop at his gourd to admire it. One asks who the human on the front of the gourd is, without answering Kyunjiro changes form to match the side they asked about. The townspeople gasp a bit and their children laugh with delight. "That one looks just like him too!"
Kyunjiro looks over at the local and Yelek speaking.
Hmm, forgiving and looking forward. It's foolish not to learn from the past so convincing Armeline is going to be difficult. I wonder if even all of us are in agreement after hearing her...
The villagers who went in search of more gourds return without any gourds. One of them runs over to the priest, Bertinand, and whispers to him at length. The priest then bows his head as if in silent prayer.
Shortly after that, he approaches the area where you are carving, his face sad, and asks, "Are you the sort used to dealing with grisly situations?"
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Eamon walks around a bit in the Pumkin patch, after he spots a particularly round specimen, he moves over to pick it. oh sand sh*t! I'm not even in a Pumkin patch! Gods my mind is wandering today! Eamon drops the cantaloupe and observes a large group of villagers running towards the Shelyn priest. what's this? Looks like trouble, I better go find out what's going on Eamon arrives just as the villagers finish their story. When asked by the Shelynite if they could be of assistance Eamon quickly answers, Of coarse we're Pathfinders, it's our duty to explore, report, and sometimes recover. It's in our nature and mandate to investigate. We will help. Eamon pauses and takes in some of the frightened faces... only a few of which look relieved. Besides, I can't help but feel we Pathfinders have a debt to this community. Eamon, leaves his other companions to question the specifics of what they witnessed. it seems you offer redemption in the strangest manor my Lady of Light.
The priest does not seem at all put off by your very lengthy responses to his direct and concrete question. Satisfied that you are, in fact, the sorts used to dealing with grisly situations, he waves over a woman from the group who returned.
"This is our constable, Elise Tivareau," Bertinand introduces her. "She will explain."
"Thank you for agreeing to assist us," Elise begins. "Our community is a peaceful one, and I do not want to distress our people any more than they need be, but there has been a murder. The local druid, Elm, was found dead when some of the villagers went to gather more gourds from his field. I would very much appreciate your assistance investigating the scene."