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"I am Alix Enki Agrippa Brunhilde Copernicus Eohippus Magnus Makoidees Von Junzt Dee, Confirmed member of the Pathfinder Society *and* True Silvered Throne of the Esoteric Order of the Palatine Eye," Huffs an exceptionally short gnome with an exceptionally beautiful (though some might say gaudy) hat - a sort of tall, deep-purple fez inset with a brass scarab beetle with a stylized eye, like a modern foreigner's amateurly-informed-but-technically-skilled attempt to replicate certain Ancient Osirian symbols of power, on its back.
She does have a Wayfinder, but under the circumstances, doesn't bother to show it.
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"I am Ysmero. A Pathfinder. I do not lie, that is wrong."
Responds the frustrated brown-scaled Nagaji. His arms are crossed but his tongue flicks out occasionally in irritation. His speech is slow but he seems genuine in his requests to be allowed inside. He makes no move to shove passed the guards however, despite the obvious strength he has. Instead he continues to wait, and occasionally request entry again, only to be denied. He seems dedicated to waiting as long as he must.
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A small bluish-black bird lands on a nearby crate. It cocks its eye at the guard.
"Have some respect, sir! I am Javon, and I have been a Pathfinder for many years. Apologies for my appearance. Something went terribly wrong on one of my last expeditions. Gerald and I are working to find a solution, but unfortunately, I can't seem to remember much..." The bird trails off as he is distracted by a big on the ground.
Suddenly, he looks back up, realizing where he is. "Oh, right. Gerald! This is my porter and companion, Gerald. Wherever I go, he goes." The bird looks towards a muscular half-orc, clad in armor with a greatsword on his back.
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A stout dwarf with an over sized warhammer thrown over one shoulder approaches the babbling mayhem at the gate. He gives a curious glance at the guard at the gate dealing with the rabble, then stops short as he too is accosted and refused entry. "Why, by all tha.. Me name's Ollo, and ye'll be parting if'n ya donna want tha Venture Capt'n ta be seeing ta ya, son. I'm a Warpriest o' Torag, and its mah business tha brings me here.."
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"Let me make something straight, stumpy" snarls the guardsman, clearly not amused at Ollo's threat. "I don't care if you are Gorum on a bender himself, if you're not cleared by Lord Balentiir you are..."
"That will be fine! Please, please let them through." Appearing from the drab walls of the lodge is Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir who immediately goes to diffuse the situation.
"I am so sorry about that" he says to you all as you enter within the cool confines of the Sandswept Hall. Not for very long though as he guides you through the old prison complex to what is now a secluded garden, lush with sycamores, tamarisks, and fig trees. He motions for you to sit upon cushioned benches in the shade, hidden behind trellises covered in grape vines and flowering plants, providing a modicum of privacy.
"You'll have to excuse the zeal of the guards, but last night a thief broke into our vault and fled with a pair of valuable items. So everyone here is a little on edge." He sighs, bringing out a clay jug and mugs for you to partake in some cool Osiriani beer. "While we were unable to stop her from escaping, one of the guards caught a glimpse of her as she fled" he says as he delicately pours the beverage into the cups of those who'll partake. "Our thief is a janni named Jamila al-Shafah. She has served as an ally to the Society in the past, but now we have to assume she might have been planning this theft for some time. She’s made her way southeast toward the Underdunes. We’re still figuring out if she had help, but in the meantime, I need you to find where she escaped to."
Norden pauses thoughtfully before glancing toward the sky, then continues. "In a way, this could be a blessing in disguise. The Underdunes have many hidden bits of lore. If you find something interesting along the way, be sure to take note of it for later. But don’t tarry too long—Jamila already has a lead of almost half a day."
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A young human boy sits in the room, clad in simple green robes and staring intently at the wall besides him. He seems to completely ignore most of what is happening around him, but cocks his head to the side when a voice from outside says something about Wayfinders. He takes a small object out of his pocket, opening it with a click and revealing an unused Wayfinder carved with the initials IB.
"Anyone can get a Wayfinder... yup, sounds about right", he says with a sigh.
Iddo continues staring at his wall while Venture-Captain Valentiir gives the mission briefing, furrowing his eyebrows and occasionally scratching his chin.
"Jamilah al-Shafah... a janni... interesting. So, are we supposed to just go to the Underdunes and hope to find hints of her location, or do we have a more concrete lead?"
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To the bird/venture agent, Venture-Captain Balentiir replies: "Well, we’ve identified two missing relics: the Sandstorm Codex and an old abacus. The Sandstorm Codex is an ancient tome written in Osiriani, Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran. It’s an elaborate text, and we haven’t yet fully deciphered it. The other is an abacus that supposedly belonged to the Pharaoh of Numbers." Turning to Khair and Ysmero, he continues: "Several elemental tribes call the Underdunes home, and none of them have a fondness for humanoids. That said, the rumor is that the binding rituals of Ancient Osirion caused the elemental planes to bleed over into the desert at spots. If you can find proof of that theory, or learn something new about the elemental tribes, that discovery would give this proverbial cloud its silver lining."
His gaze finally rests on the seemingly aloof human. "The task of tracking her down falls to you, we know little more about her current whereabouts. We do know that she used to work as a desert merchant, and the local merchants create trails through the desert that connect water sources and remote outposts and thread their way between the most dangerous threats. Her appearance and that of her pet bird are quite distinctive, so you might try taking the most prominent of these paths and asking anyone you meet along the way."
And with those words said, he takes a seat, grabbing his own cup. "I'll drink to your success."
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Ysmero's eyes glaze over as the captain talks of other planes and proof of his theory, but the first half of the explanation was enough for him.
"Why would anyone write something in so many languages?" He asks bluntly, clearly not making a joke. "But I will look for her."
Ysmero hits the markets as well, wondering what he should buy. Having had very few adventures, he's not quite sure, but he does secure a wand of cure light wounds, using his connection with the crusade to receive it as a favor and he tucks it into his belt along with the other wand he carries.
Satisfied that he has done enough, he seeks out his fellow Pathfinders and gets ready to leave town.
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"Oh hush, Gerald. I doubt her pet can speak, and even if it could, what why would I need to speak to it? It's just a common bird!" Javon ruffles his feather and seems to track a beetle crawling on the ground for several seconds. Suddenly, he looks up realizing where he is.
"Oh right, she's going to the desert? Gerald, we need to get you some desert supplies. Heaven knows what that could be. We'll ask someone."
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Balentiir nods and takes out a scroll case from his loose fitting robes. "A map of the area you are going to be in. The trail begins in Sothis, and ends in El-Shelad. About ten miles out though, the trail branches out. I am told that they are alternate routes the merchantmen can choose to take to avoid sandstorms or attacks from migrating elemental tribes." He frowns as he gets up, clearly displeased with the situation. "I wish it were otherwise, but I have not had the opportunity to find out which of these are favored right now. Perhaps one of the caravan leaders or a merchand in Sothis can tell you which of these is most in use. May Desna smile upon you" he concludes as a blessing of sorts, as he grabs the beer urn and heads back towards the squat lodge.
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Iddo nods slowly while everyone speaks, swaying back and forth in his seat, seemingly deep in thought. Khair's comment makes him snap out of this state and he loses balance, nearly falling forwards.
"Speedy trek? Extremely sorry, but I think we should try looking for some of these missing artefacts too. They would make quite an inspiring discovery. Of course, you probably know what you're talking about. You must be right. Please ignore me."
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"We did promise to look for those." Ysmero nods in agreement before his slow mind considers the full situation. "But we must find the thief quickly or she will get away." The brown scales that make his brow furrow as he narrows his eyes. "We can not let that happen."
Ysmero will keep an eye out for anyone that looks like a merchant or trader as the Pathfinders make their way toward their destination.
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Finding a merchant willing and able to talk to you about the routes isn't hard, and soon you are in the musky presence of Kihur, a spice merchant who smells like a combination of his merchandise.
"Welcome, welcome, please. Allow me to serve you some tea!"
Kihur's warm approach broaches no refusals, and soon you find yourselves all sipping some delicately spiced tea.
"Ah yes, the Underdunes. Yes, the western paths aren't used this year. Let me draw on your map where you should go. With such speed you should be able to stay out of the sun. By the way, have you noticed how refreshing my tea is? Even under the sun's harshest rays, it will keep you quenched. And it's spices! Throat soothing, like anything you'll find in a healer's tent. And for polite travelers such as yourselves, I would be privileged to offer a special discount!"
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Ollo sips at the tea, and despite not being ale, it is rather good. "Aye, and me appreciation fer tha tea too! Perhaps I'll buy a peck or two fer me canteen along tha way!"
After a brief spat of haggling with the merchant (Not really, more for token appearance than anything) he makes sure the merchant gets the upper hand of the transaction. "Thank ye fer the knowledge and tha tea, sir. Before we go, would ye be knowing any of the legends of tha place? I've heard strange creatures roam there guard'n hidden treasure an' abandoned ruins.. There'll not be any of that stuff goin on, will there?
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"The gods be merciful and spare you that you meet any strange creatures in the desert! Especially in the Underdunes. Men and women that are also earth, fire and wind have nothing but hatred for beings like us. Nay, there is no treasure to be found in Underdunes, only a painful death" confides Kihur, visibly frightened.
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Alexis gratefully accepts the tea and peruses the merchant's wares.
"I understand the Underdunes are ruled - de facto, that is - by a tribal union of earth, air, and fire elementals, formally conjured and bound by the pharaohs of Ancient Osirion, known as the Goanron Triumvirate, but rivaled by a splinter tribe of air elementals called the Ainsi."
Alexis looks out at the canyon walls. "Notice the wearing of the rocks. It goes opposite the direction of the wind patterns - and those landslides over there shouldn't have happened, the terrain's too stable. The elements are angry here."
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The bird looks harshly at the half-orc. "Excuse me, Gerald? Who is the porter and who is the Pathfinder here? Besides, I don't see any pattern to the rocks." He pauses, looking at the rocks and dunes.
"However, getting a different vantage point is always a good idea. I shall fly up and see if there's anything to see from there." The bird flies up, carefully making his way up to glide in a circle and look down.
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"Goanron Triumvirate, you say... Ainsi... Ah yes, I know why these names are familiar! I read a book about them once. They were in conflict about some lost city named Tumen. The Ainsi wanted to uncover it, but the Goanron wanted to keep it secret. I wonder what's in that city. Sorry, I must be rambling and boring everyone again. I'll stop now."
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Traveling through the desert and finally entering the underdunes, you come into contact with many travelers, most of them merchants. Stopping along to ask if they've seen your quarry, most respond that they have not. However, as you were beginning to lose hope under the unforgiving Osiriani sun, you come across Shirana, a pottery merchant. "Oh, I've seen her like. About six hours ago though, as I was starting my day." She gives you clear directions; however, it seems that Jamila is heading into the hottest portion of the underdunes.
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Ysmero treks with the rest under the sweltering sun. By the end of the first day he finally remembers that he might have needed something to save him from the heat, but alas it's far too late, and on the second day the weather seems to get even worse, his scales itch as his skin dries out and even his tongue wants for wetness as all he can do is long for shade and a cold breeze.
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Each morning while tramping through the desert, Ollo communes with Torag, asking for his guidance and protection. Once this is complete, he rises from his meditations and casts a spell on himself to help compensate for the heat and the dangers of the environment.
As they at last have word of their quarry, Ollo stops to drink from his canteen and wipe his brow of sweat. "Thank tha gods.." he says breathlessly. "I'm not one fer complainin', but I much rather tha cold!!"
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By mid-day on the third day of your pursuit, only Iddo seems to be suffering from a bad case of sunstroke as you come upon a "fork" in the road and a choice to make. A steep downward trail on the one hand leads to a trench that provides shade from the desert heat. The other path leads upward toward a series of ledges that eventually lead to the top of the canyon. This higher path provides less protection from the sun, but its high vantage point could allow a better view of the surrounding area.