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The reputable merchant and ally of the Society Aya Allahe paces one of the back rooms of Sharrowsmith’s Exports, a walled trade compound on the northern edge of Nantambu in the Mwangi Expanse.
“I wish I had more to offer,”
Allahe apologizes before even presenting what information she has.
“Nieford Sharrowsmith never truly retired from being a Pathfinder, even after he started this business. I think, in his mind, he was still the young adventurer that hiked through jungles and fought off troglodyte tribes. Sharrowsmith’s attitude changed over the last few months—I think he was concerned for his legacy and how history would remember him. Would it be for his discoveries or for the export business that dominated his later years? The answer, I fear, was unpalatable."
“It was no surprise when he packed up and left on an expedition. But that was months ago, and neither the Society nor I have heard from him since. Sharrowsmith has never left for this long without leaving some word as to his status or sending rather demanding missives about business decisions while he was waist-deep in some jungle bog. When my own contacts failed to turn up any useful information, I had no recourse but to go through his private notes.” Allahe motions to the mess of documents scattered about the office.
“What caught my eye was this translated rubbing. It appears to be the most recent piece of a very large puzzle Sharrowsmith was researching and indicated that he may be somewhere in the Bandu Hills. Traders from Fort Bandu have confirmed that he paid the garrison a visit, but that’s where my trail ran cold. Something happened out there, and Praetor Sylien—Fort Bandu’s commander—refuses to correspond with me on the matter despite knowing how close Nieford and I are. All I received in response was that Nieford had ‘done enough damage for one lifetime,’ and that if I wanted to discuss the matter further I would need to go to Fort Bandu in person.”
Exasperatedly, Allahe runs a hand across her forehead and turns her distant stare out the window. “I cannot shutter the business and travel hundreds of miles on the off chance that the praetor can help; the company would fall apart. I’m hoping that you will be able to go in my stead, speak with the praetor personally to learn what has befallen Sharrowsmith and help him return.”
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An olive-skinned muscular man, clad in Chelaxian clothing introduces himself as Guillaume, though the fact that he is barely able to pronounce the name - as well as the unlikeliness of his heritage - betrays that he was born to another one. The 'family' name of Egorian he quotes only serve to make him unlikely as a person born to that city. Though these are the only words he speaks, he does look around to see if everyone has understood the implications of his name: that he is a travelling trader from Qadira, who set up shop in Cheliax.
He seems to becomes increasingly interested as the word 'traders' is mentioned. You are right, Allahe. Venturing off to distant lands of the off-chance of finding your Nieford is something best delegated.
This Praetor, he must have his own agenda for not talking to you. Do you have any kind of history? Some bad blood between your families? A sleight or insult?
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Aya looks a little upset. “I have never met the man. I know him only by reputation. The grandson of an old elven explorer, he’s served the garrison for decades, though I hear he’s mostly retired now. My business associates say he is a fair and very pragmatic man, one who respects hard facts and truth. His being dismissive of my request sounds uncharacteristic.”
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A frustrated elf runs into the room, panting. "Greetings, everyone. My apologies for being late. I had the wrong room and didn't know it for quite some time. The long and short is that I'm Oberon, your friendly neighborhood caster."
"So we need to find some Praetor and get info on a Sharrowsmith? Travel hundreds of miles and there might be nothing? THIS is the first mission I get from the Pathfinders!? Sounds good." The elf bares a smile.
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"The type of mining.." breaks in Aya "is primarily gemstones, although there is word of gold in the hills too. The two major mining operations there are the Deeptreasure and the Golden Crown."
She sits down. "While I don't know much about fort Bandu, the Bandu hills themselves are a dangerous place. It has dozens of ways to kill you even before accounting for living creatures: heat, dehydration, landslides, poisonous plants, carnivorous plans and so on. But the place is sick with riches like diamonds, gold and silver - an embarrassment of wealth that only attracts more dangerous occupants. I am surprised that Sharrowsmith didn't settle down there, to be honest."
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"I know, sometimes the agents are unknown to each other so I will introduce myself. Name´s Bonifacius, I am a devotee of Desna. My faith grants me a few spells and I am quite handy with my axe. If you have a a healing wand, I will saveguard it and use it to heal you. If this is your first mission, well I have a soft spot for kittens."
Bonifacius will buy himself food and clothing suitable for hot climate
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The next morning, before it gets too hot, the pathfinder team sets off for Fort Bandu. At another time the journey would be a story itself, epic in the telling. For now let us settle for a quick summary of hardship, suffering and sweltering heat.
The trip started travelling by boat down the Vanji River. Then the easy bit was over and the team switched to canoes, padding up the Little Vanji. That it turn led to the Dzimmi River. At its headwaters you left behind your transport, to your aching arms delight. Your feet quickly felt hard done by as you wound your way through the lower Bandu Hills, over a pass and down to Fort Bandu.
The Fort is a small frontier settlement, surrounded by high stone walls and is located on the northern edge of Sargava.
A pair of guards stands at the closest gate to the teams arrival point.
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As the troupe nears the fort a proud looking mess of a half-orc comes walking up to you. While at first glance he looks like any other dreg of society but he does not stink like one. His thread bare leather armor is oiled and apparently well cared for.
'Hale, I am Eagungad'
pulling a small folded rag from a pocket he wipes the sweat from his brow
'May I accompany you? I have...umm...dealings within the fort'
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"Pathfinders..." spits out the guard.
"You lot cause more trouble than you are worth." The other shoots him a "be professional" look.
You are gestured into the fort, and escorted to the praetor's office within garrison block. It is utilitarian space with several tables and a handful of half empty bookcases. In the center of the room is a table with a large map of the Bandu Hills region. Light spills in from three tall windows.
The praetor himself his gray in his otherwise coal-black hair. He carries himself with pride and dignity, looking every bit the warrior. His sun beaten face through is heavily lined.
Praetor Sylien is in mid-conversation with a lanky Garundi man in fine attire. Their conversation stops abruptly, and the praetor’s guest disdainful glares at the latest arrivals. “Pathfinders. I shouldn’t be surprised. Only your organization would have the gall to so brazenly show its face when you’ve already caused so much damage.”
“Pathfinders,” the praetor’s voice lacks the contempt of his guest, as if trying to subtly apologize for his tone.
“This is Amersanus Valacosti of the Aspis Consortium. We’ve been discussing the troubles Fort Bandu has faced of late—troubles caused by
your organization. I was unwilling to disclose the details to Mistress Allahe by courier, but now that you have arrived, I feel it pertinent to explain the nature of Fort Bandu’s… misgivings. Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith came through here some months ago, gathering supplies and information before setting off on an expedition into the hills. There, he roused the local kobold tribes and angered them enough that they now actively raid our settlements and mining operations."
“Amersanus Valacosti and I were discussing how the Aspis Consortium may be able to help repair the damage your Society has inflicted on the people of Fort Bandu. Now that you’ve arrived, perhaps we can have a more balanced mediation. Your Pathfinder Society has a damaged reputation in the Bandu Hills, so I ask you state your business and why you think I should allow you to even so much as stay within the fort’s walls. What knowledge do you have of this land and its people that could prevent this situation from deteriorating further? I will only entertain questions regarding Sharrowsmith once I’m assured that providing you information will not further endanger my charges.”
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Have we met? Guillaume says to Amersanus with an icy stare.
Praetor, he then turns to the leader of the fort, it is in your best interest not to deal with this man, he will poison your thoughts with his lies. Whatever damage this man frames the society for, rest assured we will be willing to undo it for your benefit. Let us discuss the matter in private though, the presence of this man will help neither party.