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Looking at Amersanus Bonifacius smiles. "May the lady of Butterflies easy your travels on all hard and perilious roads you may take. We just arrived and it seems something has happened here. Alas, we can try to lay blame, or we can solve the problem. Rest assured, we are more than capable of solving problems."
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Bowing before the Praetor, Oberon speaks sincerely, "Praetor, I am new to your land. However, in the short time I have been here I have wondered at its beauty, but also for the people who dwell here. I am unfamiliar with the deeds of the previous Pathfinders that you encountered. But if there was damage done, we will rectify it - Kolbolds or not. We want nothing more than to secure the well being and quality of life for all. That includes the good people of the Bandu Hills. Praetor, please let us aid you, this land, and its people."
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Valacosti sneers as the Pathfinders explain their case. “At least Sharrowsmith professed an intimate understanding of the region and its delicate balance of power as well, and behold the results: dozens dead, dozens more missing, kobolds attacking our mining operations, and people living in fear of the next raid. Praetor, with all due respect, you cannot allow these Pathfinders to exacerbate an already delicate situation.”
The praetor remains patient. “Amersanus makes a good point. Sharrowsmith was a well-read and knowledgeable man, yet he disappeared in these jungles and caused damage we’re only beginning to feel the impact of
thanks to the local kobold tribes. How is your expedition different? Do you have the necessary strength to survive in this environment where so many others cannot? Show me that those weapons and spellbooks you carry are not just for show.”
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Oberon, becoming annoyed by the situation, steps toward the praetor, "Sir, I cannot attest for the preparations Sharrowsmith made, thus I cannot make account for his actions. But are well prepared in spell and blade."
Oberon relates his spells and arcane knowledge to the praetor.
"We are also guided by our duty to set right was has become amiss. That is what will guide us through such perilous environment."
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“Is this supposed to make an impression?” Valacosti is quick to dismiss the display of power. “If you think this situation can be solved at the point of a sword or by brandishing some hedge wizardry, you’re as ignorant as your predecessor. These Pathfinders will rush headlong into the jungle and slaughter the kobold tribe, creating a power vacuum among the other tribes and only worsen this disaster.”
Again, the praetor tries to remain impartial, though it is clear his patience is waning. “Once more I find myself seeing reason in Valacosti’ words. Strength of arms is all well and good, but this is a situation that also requires a certain amount of finesse. How do I know I trust you to handle this situation with a level head and a delicate touch when necessary?”
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Visibly frustrated, Valacosti appeals one last time to Sylien. “Praetor. I implore you, send these Pathfinders back from where they came from. This is neither the place nor the time for their presence. For the sake of the people of Fort Bandu, do not let them worsen this situation.”
With reluctance, the praetor acknowledges the Pathfinders with a slow nod. Then, after a brief glance to Valacosti, he appears ready to make his decision.
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"We are sympathetic to your concerns, Valacosti. In fact, it seems we all here have the same heart in mind: the safety of the people of Fort Bandu, the safety of the region, lo' the safety of us all."
Turning to the praetor. "Praetor, we have come to seek out Sharrowsmith without previous knowledge of the current situation. However, we are sensitive to your concerns and wish to aid you and your people with our talents and, if need be, our lives. We do not aim to make matters worse, rather we feel that we now have a stake at hand of our own. Let us not waste anymore time here. Let us help."
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With a reserved sigh, the praetor relents. “As the Pathfinders are responsible for getting us into this mess, I see it fitting that we give them the chance to remedy the situation. I’m putting my faith in you, and the lives of the people in Fort Bandu. I pray that you don’t betray that trust, for the consequences could be quite dire for all who call this home.”
“Most unfortunate,” Valacosti observes with disappointment that gives way to menacing resolve.
“I believe you are making a grave mistake by placing any faith in these glorified tomb robbers, praetor. Once they fail, remember that the Aspis Consortium has extended a generous offer of aid in this troubling time. One can only hope that this Pathfinder experiment does not exacerbate the situation further and necessitate our renegotiating the terms.”
Valacosti dismisses himself from the room.
"Sharrowsmith... he was last heard off at one of the outlying mining camps. One belonging to The Golden Crown Compnay. I suggest you approach them and ask for further information there."
The Praetor provides instructions about how to reach the camp. It is now early evening. The heat beats down on the hills like a hammer, and getting to the camp is going to be a long and difficult journey.
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"I suggest we rest here in the fort overnight, my friends. Or do you all think it will be even hotter in the morning?"
"If we stay tonight we might take this time to ask around town about The Golden Crown Company or even Valacosti. Other than being an agent of the Aspis Consortium, something feels wrong about him and Sharrowsmith."
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"We should move now, but before we leave stock up on water. Even if water is with us in the form of magics, the heat tends to make even the simplest things a dreadful task. Hydration is one of our biggest worries. As for light, I suppose torches shall suffice and or again proper magical substitutuion," he says wiping his for head of sweat with a small rag.
"By Iomedae it is right hot."
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There is a moon tonight. It will help reduce the chance of getting lost, but not eliminate it. The travel will certainly be cooler if you do it overnight, but you have already travelled today, so fatigue is a real risk.
Valacosti is specificlly interested in undermining the Society and getting leverage for the Aspis. You think he is just using Sharrowsmith as a convenient lever, rather than having anything specific to do with his absence.
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Travelling under the moonlight is a little creepy. Odd shadows dance around, and the light breeze in the trees keeps the leaves rustling as if they are talking to each other... although who knows about what.
Following the directions to the mining camp is harder too. Was that the big tree you were supposed to turn right at?
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The group has little trouble. Full of seemingly experienced jungle-folk, they follow the trail to the top of the valley where the miners camp is.
You notice scent of decay clinging in the air in the gorge. Feel free to cast any spells or make preparation before heading down
Hexagonal basalt columns scarred by mining tools line the walls of the gorge. The floor of the gorge is a patchwork of scrub grass and leafless vegetation flattened by frequent traffic. Wooden scaffolding, mining equipment, and trampled tents lie abandoned across the camp. Corpses of laborers rent limb from limb lay amidst the camp’s wreckage, and dried blood darkens the rocks. Several banners depicting a golden crown adorn the scaffolding.
Status, bold may post:
Pathfinders
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Eagungad tries a fancy trick. Luckily the zombie is too slow to take advantage of his poor execution of it .
Dravil slashes at the zombie, almost cutting it in to. Unfortuantely as it is dead, it doesn't care.
It tries to slam him back, but must have been taking lessons from Eagungad.
The Festrog charges into Guillaume but also makes a mess of it.
Status, bold may post:
Copper
Bonifacius
Oberon
Guillaume
Dravil
Eagungad
Zombie - 11 damage
Festrog - charged