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Water laps steadily at the pier as sailors, laborers, and merchants rush busily around Absalom’s port. The venture-captain’s summons called for a meeting aboard the Sixwing Drake, a sleek sailing ship. The Drake’s captain, a Varisian woman and fellow Pathfinder named Zarah Zendrani, stands at the helm of her vessel.
“It’s not like Valsin to be late,” she mutters, furrowing her brow.
As if on cue, a tall and meticulously groomed man pushes his way through the crowd and up the gangplank, cursing audibly.
“Whoever supervises this mess of a port needs to be dumped in the sea!” he grumbles. The tall man looks around at those gathered before him.
“Just the group I requested. Perfect. I’m Venture- Captain Ambrus Valsin, and I took great care in selecting just the right Pathfinders for this assignment.”
Valsin reaches into his belt pouch and withdraws a small, folded paper before continuing.
“A few days ago, I received a curious note from a rather unexpected source. It’s not every day that I get a request from an agent of the Aspis Consortium.” Captain Zendrani’s eyes widen, and Valsin smiles knowingly.
“But Magali Delroya does not appear to be your typical Aspis agent. As you surely know, the Aspis Consortium pursues a variety of activities across the Inner Sea that the Pathfinder Society finds abhorrent. It seems that Delroya has been working with them for some time, but can no longer stomach the snakes herself. She wants to stop a shipment of an experimental drug from leaving Diobel later this week. It’s bound for a number of locations across the Inner Sea region. According to Delroya, she can’t ask the local authorities for help, because the Aspis Consortium has already struck a deal with a faction of the Kortos Consortium, a powerful merchant collective. Her hands are tied, so she’s come to us for help. In this note, she outlines three different tasks that would help to disrupt the Aspis long enough for her to move the shipment to a secure location, out of the clutches of the consortium. Once you accomplish two of these tasks, she’s willing to meet with you, but not before."
“Normally, I wouldn’t trust an Aspis agent at any hour of the day. But our sources in Diobel have confirmed the Aspis and Kortos consortia’s activities. Everything checks out, so we are presented with a unique opportunity. If we help Delroya, we might not only strike a financial blow against the Aspis Consortium, but we could also reveal their dealings with the Kortos Consortium—and possibly prevent their arrangement from turning into a more formal alliance. Furthermore, we hope to stop this drug from spreading across the Inner Sea region, and if we—if all of you—do a good enough job, we might even convince Delroya to join the Society. A turncoat agent would be a valuable asset in our ongoing run-ins with the Aspis Consortium."
“Take some time to look over Delroya’s note and the tasks shehas set for you. If you have any questions, now is the time to ask. Remember, the Aspis Consortium is a long-time enemy of the society, but the Kortos Consortium, while certainly suspicious, is not our enemy. It is a complex organization with many factions, and we should avoid antagonizing any of them, except when necessary to oppose the Aspis Consortium.”
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Pom reads the notes and passes them to the other pathfinders. She runs her hand through her ponytail and thinks on it a bit before saying, "Hrm. It may check out, but do you trust her? I don't want to get caught helping one of the cooks steal the head chef's recipes to start her own restaurant. If you do trust her I'm sure we can figure out a plan, but I don't want to get caught with my apron on backwards."
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An imposing Kellid emerges from below deck, a half-eaten turkey leg in one hand, and a stein of cider in the other. A heavy flail made of silver hangs at his waist, and a huge sword is slung over his back. Furs jut out from underneath his platemail, protecting him from the cool seabreeze. Although he looks young, probably around the age of 20, his black hair is equally streaked with silver. As he approaches you notice that silver scales accent his eyes and bony growths jut out along his chin line. He must have the blood of a dragon in his ancestry.
"I have dealt with insidious members of the Shadow Lodge before, but not yet with this Aspis Consortium." He tears another bite off of his turkey leg.
My mission is to right wrongs and eliminate evil at its root.
"By the Inheritor, this sounds like a valiant quest. The lives that will be spared, should we succeed, would truly make my Goddess smile. Venture Captain, you have indeed selected the right people for this job." He washes the last of his turkey down with a gulp of cider.
From the desert to the seas, Meredith has had an interesting trip with the Pathfinder Society. Recently, her hair bore cacti but now she finds seaweed sprouting from her hair. She makes a game out of plucking them from herself every morning.
"Calvin! Well met!" She stands from her meditative position and shakes the traveller's hand. "Atmar sends his regards. He's enjoying his newfound life at the Grand Lodge. I wonder what the future holds for him." She smiles, a rarity.
The smile fades away just as quickly as it came, and Venture-Captain Valsin arrives to give a briefing. "This sounds like a trap. That foolish woman never should have joined such a group. And yet..." Meredith turns to the side. "My blind optimism led me into the wrong group. The drug trade is full of danger."
"If this is a trap, I will enjoy crushing some fools from Aspis. Especially this 'Laszo the Leper'." She grins. "I will lend whatever assistance I can to the other tasks. Perhaps a giant rat will disrupt the restaurant's atmosphere."
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After delivering the esteemed venture-captain, Targos Min-Katheer's body to his final resting spot Calvin spends a few weeks in the Qadira capital city of Katheer to enjoy the culture of the fiery Keleshites. After he wears out his welcome the barbarian jumps a ship to Absalom. Half a day on the boat and he is wishing he was back in the desert. When he reaches the docks at Absalom he kiss the ground. "Never getting on a boat again." He quickly makes his way to the Lodge hoping to get a new mission.
... Great just swore off boats forever now I have been summon to one ...
Calvin takes his time thru town and shows up at the Sixwing Drake just as Valsin is about to brief the group on the mission. The Shoanti slides into the back of the group and see a familiar face. "Hi Meredith." he says as he turns her way and gives her a wink. By the look she gives him she is surprised by the scar under his left eye. "It is nothing, I foolishly dueled a dervish of Qadira. I still won but almost lost my eye. Enough about that. It is good to see you again." He give the druid a smile.
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"Good to see that the Drunken Hero still favors you, Calvin." An older man wearing simple traveling robes enters. He smiles at the druid. "Meredith, we really should keep closer tabs on him. So, Atmar has found a place at the Grand Lodge, eh? I should visit him sometime."
The man rests a longspear on the wall and he pulls a flask from his belt. He takes a small sip and nods in appreciation. "Well, at least the weather here will be far better than last time. And a chance to strike at the Aspis is intriguing too." He takes the notes and reads over them, sharing them with the others.
"The Aspis are running drugs now? How despicable. It sounds like getting Laszo's notes is the most direct method of shutting this down, but I'm happy to help with some of this other subterfuge. The Lucky Drunk teaches freedom, and being enslaved to a drug is no less than wearing chains around your neck either"
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"I concur as well, though I do not look forward to the stink of his lair, nor the cramped nature of it. A sewer? Bah! At least I suppose it will be out of sight from the rest of the city." Then, turning to the Cleric, "I do hope that the Accidental God grants his worshipers the ability to wash away such foul odors? Negotiating with cityfolk afterwards might be a challenge otherwise."
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"Kevan, Calvin wears his scar with pride. A reminder of a hard-earned victory. Still, no need to lose yourself unnecessarily."
She eyes Jötunn and Chef Pom, stone faced. "Meredith." After a pause, she remembers to smile. "Calvin, Kevan and I helped escort a man to his final resting place across a beautiful desert. The sewers don't seem remotely as interesting to me, but I will enjoy breaking the back of that drug manufacturer."
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A dark-haired elven woman, armored and armed, arrives to the pier. She is dressed colorfully, with every item of clothing arranged meticulously making the outfit resemble a piece of art. She walks to the ship and greets the Pathfinder warmly.
"Greetings, my dear friends. I deeply apologize for being a bit late. I had made a promise to Captain Valsin to join, but my superiors at the temple insisted me to stay until the evening mass was finished. I am to understand you have already been given instructions to the mission at hand?"
She boards the ship, takes a seat and looks at the notes given to the group. She reads the suggested distractions, and her expression turns a bit sour.
"I am all for preventing the illegal trade of drugs, meant only to bring more suffering to the poor. Still, I am not delighted at the plans given to us by this contact. I would have preferred them to be brought to law, and not just disrupted. Maybe I have to trust this one, and go with these plans. She might know what helps best, and causes least grief."
She hands back the notes, and turns to the team, smiling.
"Anyway, I am so overjoyed that the assignments have again been so wonderful. Meredith, Calvin, Kevan, our recent journey was such a success. The best are chosen, so I am certain our new friends have been selected with equal skill, and they are exceptional pathfinders.
She bows to Pom and Jötunn, showing nothing but sincerity in her praise.
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Kevan gives a deep bow to Miriel as she enters. "Miriel! By the gods, it's good to see you again! Lady Shelyn blesses us with both your beauty and protecton!" He offers her a drink from his flask as a welcome.
"Jotunn, the Accidental God grants very little. It is up to us to earn what he has to offer. When he sees us fighting the Aspis threat, I have faith we will have what we need. Remember, he was once a mortal adventurer like us! I know he had his share of times in a sewer and smelling like a fetid rat. All the better to overcome it and share a drink on the other side..." Kevan grins and laughs. "...before and after a bath perhaps!"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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A tall, sparsely-muscled half-elf, wearing well worn leathers and with a longbow made of a strange, dark wood across his back, approaches the gathering, giving every impression of being a competent woodsman who rarely spends time amidst polite society.
"G'day. The name's Wilhelm. Let's see what fine mess we are being sent off into today..."
Incongruously, he pulls out a delicate pair of spectacles in order to read the notes, before looking thoughtfully at the rest of the assembled group.
"If guile and honeyed words is not our forte, perhaps we should concentrate on tasks two and three...?"
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Captain Zendrani and the crew of the sleek Sixwing Drake steer the ship up to the massive barrier of broken war-barges, crumbling walls, and jetties of iron and wood that protect the port of Diobel. “Well, here we are,” says the captain.
“I’ll make sure everything is in order with Diobel’s inspectors and charter you a barge to the port. You aren’t carrying anything particularly
valuable, so you shouldn’t draw much attention from the inspectors or pilots, so long as you don’t run your mouth. My crew and I will wait here with the ship. You can return here to rest, if you need to, but remember—there isn’t much time!”
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"Wilhelm! How did I not recognize you from before?" Meredith gives a nod to the archer.
"Remember when we fought that druid circle before they turned us into mindless beasts? I thought my entire body was going to burst into a bristle of rose thorns!" She smiles. "Not a bad way to go, all things considered."
"Let's focus on finding that drug manufacturer first. No one minds getting a little dirty, I expect."
Meredith asks around town, trying to feel like she's not too out of place.
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"Oh, you are too kind for this humble servant of the arts", Miriel answers the praise, blushing slightly.
When they arrive at Diobel, she looks at the town, concerned.
"Such a big city, with so many dark places. Meredith, I agree, the alchemist is the root of this evil. Let us start finding his laboratory and bring an end to the production."
Miriel goes asking around the town, preferring people who look poor and in need of help.
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The captain arranges for a boat to take you to shore, and to wait in case you need to get back to her ship.
Once on shore, you start asking around.
It takes a while but eventually you get directions that lead to an isolated alley in the Bristles, and then down into the sewers beneath Diobel. The stench of sewage mixes with the sharper odors of chemical fumes and decay and permeates the damp tunnels.
From this intersection, tunnels lead west and south into the darkness. A third tunnel heading east is filled with detritus, filthy beddings, food scraps, broken glass, and rotting furniture. An alcove lies beyond a collapsed portion of the tunnel’s southern wall, and further east, a statue of a giant rat rests in the dead-end passage. Countless empty flasks and discarded alchemical ingredients lie on the floor around the statue. On a nearby workbench sit several organized but empty flasks and jars.
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Meredith seems upset by the smell- not because it's revolting, but because of what it indicates.
"We must be close to the fool's home. Let us look for his unrefined drug and alchemical notes. While I wouldn't mind crushing him, I do know time is of the essence."
Meredith really, really wants to crush this guy.
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"I... I really cannot see why anyone would live in such filth. They have a need to mark this place theirs", Miriel says, pointing at the rat statue. "But all this, dirty, wasted, useless", she continues, prodding the debris with her foot, while slowly walking eastward.
"You must be right, someone has dabbled with alchemy here", she answers to Meredith when passing some destroyed flasks.
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Calvin sits in the middle of the small boat that takes them to shore not wanting to get near the water. "I do long for the rocky crags and canyons of the Cinderlands." He very ungracefully debarks and gives a little prayer to Gorum.
Shaking head trying to deal with the smell Calvin says. "What is this unnatural stench? The gases for the great volcano's from my home land would be a welcome smell compared to this." He takes his ripped sack from his pack wraps his nose and mouth then draws his spear. He then moves to the front of the group near Meredith and gives her a nudge. "So the fiend has fled?"
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The two people breathe, but look though listless eyes at you. Addicts of the worst kind.
When Meredith summons her magical light there is a startled intake of breathe and the figures shield their eyes from the light.
Beyond them is the statue and bottles. So the south, behind one of hte addicts is some type of room, but its hard to see more from where Meredith is.
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Jottun shouts at a drugie who just retreats further into the side of the sewer. Wilhelm takes a shot at the beetle, but it bounces off the creatures hide.
Two beetles surge out from the sewer pipe. One emits a bright flash of light, while the other one bites at Meredith but misses.
Status- bold may post
Jotunn
Wilhelm
Miriel
Chef
Kevan
Calvin
Beetles
Meredith - DC12 fort save or dazzled for rounds