As the door opens to Venture-Captain Esmayl ibn Qaradi’s office, he sits behind an imposing desk and concludes an elegantly penned letter with a flourish of calligraphy. He smiles, stands, and spreads his arms in welcome. “Welcome, my guests and colleagues. Let my family’s hospitality be your pleasure in this time we have together.” He fans the wet ink on the letter before setting it aside and taking a seat.
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Silas's entrance into the room would be difficult not to notice, even if he wanted it to be. He stands tall, clad head to foot in metal armor, his footsteps thunking loudly against the floor, his movements accompanied by the sound of metal on metal. Clanging softly against his breastplate is an iron holy symbol depicting the sword-and-sunburst of his patron goddess, Iomedae. Easily the most noticeable part of the ensemble is his sword: the pommel and crossguard of the longsword hanging at his belt glitter with jewels, and the entire hilt is made of shining mithral.
"Thank you," Silas says to the venture-captain. "My pleasure is that your hospitality be-- with us together, here, now."
A metallic voice chuckles.
Ibn Qaradi smiles graciously at the inquisitors joke, but takes the powders gifted to him. He smiles again, this time at the poweder's results.
As if on cue to Silas' greeting, the venture captain's hospitality arrives in the form of chilled dates, cold melon and a icinged pastries. Gesturing for the pathfinders to take his most comfortable chairs, ibn Qaradi moves to a rough stool.
"Ah, my guest Nivik," the host offers, "Can't a social setting also be the job to complete?"
“To an outsider, it may seem that gold drives Keleshite society, but in truth it is a complex network of favors and patronage—who you know and how you have helped them are key. The Society is in a position to pay a very dear favor to a powerful and righteous demigod, yet our leaders require extraplanar expertise in order to perform said favor. Through my family, we have found such an expert who lives on the Plane of Fire. Her name is Qalkami Mishalq, an efreeti information broker in exile who also prefers favors to gold. The fire genies are notoriously shrewd negotiators, yet I believe the Society has secured a fair deal: four tasks of her choosing, and additional support thereafter to help her reestablish herself in the City of Brass."
"A written contract? With an outsider?"
As to the tasks required the venture captain only knows that you will be most qualified to handle them. That is why you where selected for this mission. "I was once asked to clean the camel stables at a race. Not because I am good with the beasts, but because my family built the canal nearby.
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"Yes, a written contract. I too am an outsider, and have participated in many written contracts. It is not at all unusual, particularly among the followers of my Prince. So, a verbal contract then? And it just says that Pathfinders will do four things of her choosing, and a blank check of support? Who makes these deals on behalf of the Society? We are horrible negotiators! No limits on the depth or breadth of the tasks, no time, labor, moral, or financial limits on the tasks or the follow on supports. That is simply crazy! Venture Captain, do please express to your superiors, as well as to other VCs and VLs, that I am always available, at a modest fee, which I consider to be a part of my day job, to aid in negotiating contracts on behalf of the Society and its friends."
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A lithe, dark-haired woman finds her way into the room as well. She has the pointed ears and almond-shaped eyes of an elf, but sprouting from her shoulderblades is a pair of large red feathery wings, tied down with cords to keep them out of the way. A long musket is slung over her shoulder; a dagger hangs at her belt.
"Frankly I don't see what the big deal is," Adeah interjects with a shrug, one hand on her hip. "If this Qalkami Whosit needs the Society's help, then we help her." And if what she asks is too ridiculous, she thinks but doesn't want to say aloud in the venture-captain's presence, we just don't do it.
Captain Ibn Qaradi* continues. “The Society and I ask that you fulfill these favors and earn Qalkami’s assistance. Kelesh maintains a significant embassy in Zjarra, the trade city Qalkami currently inhabits. With my family’s connections, I have secured you passage to the embassy and the assistance of a liaison to help you get settled. From there, meet with Qalkami and do what you can to fulfill her requests. Please report to the palace first thing tomorrow so that you do not miss the departure.”
He lets some of the 'brightest minds' discuss contracts, outsiders and favors before chiming in. "This might involve some dirty work. The contract prohibits impossible tasks, yet it doesn’t account for ethical concerns.” He takes a polite sip of date wine before adding with a smile, “Though I’d note that just as efreet often twist wishes, you are free to interpret her instructions to fulfill the letter of her request, if not always the grisly spirit. Just be careful not to warp her demands so obviously or blatantly that you invalidate the Society’s deal. The isle of Jalmeray sometimes challenges its greatest minds to outwit an efreeti, and Pathfinders are among the greatest thinkers. You be the judge based on the opportunities that arise.”
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Milton responds to Adeah, "as if I would stoop so low as to be one of those moneylenders."
Milton queries the Venture Captain, "If I may, I like to make sure I am clear as to the breadth and depth of my commissions from the Society. On a scale of zero to four, with 0 being no casualties, and 4 being all of us die, but the mission is still accomplished, just how important would you rate this particular task? I find it helpful to know just what level of casualties are considered acceptable, provided success is still provided on the mission."
In addition to the information above, Fendel is able share a little bit more about the party's destination.
Designed to accommodate travelers from all kinds of locations, Zjarra has embassies representing a number of different planes and worlds, many of which host creatures even stranger and more alien than the Plane of Fire’s own inhabitants. The city features a diverse array of climates and
conditions to support these unusual guests.
Creatures from the lawful plane of Axis founded Zjarra, and even though the original axiomites left long ago, many of their inevitables still frequent the city, keeping the peace.
About the plane of fire, the tiefling offers more information. Almost everything on the Plane of Fire is made of fire, lava, or something else that burns. Outside of rare safe spots where powerful magic keeps the plane’s flames at bay, it is extremely dangerous.
The main inhabitants of the Plane of Fire are azers, efreet, fire elementals, magmins, mephits, and salamanders. The City of Brass, a magnificent hub of interplanar trade and the capital of an efreeti empire, is the plane’s largest city by far.
Top which the human can add: Efreet are among the most powerful of the plane’s inhabitants, and they consider themselves the plane’s rulers. Most efreet are cruel and callous, and the City of Brass is
renowned for its extensive slave markets.
"You are asking me to place a value on your life Milton Smithson? I would not put it below the word of an efreet. The inroads we can make here are significant, to be sure, but with no one to follow those roads they would be useless."
Ibn Qaradi concludes the meeting once he is sure the Pathfinders all understand their assignment. The venture-captain then shows the Pathfinders to their quarters, and later shares dinner with them. He imparts a final reminder to be sure not to be late, as the envoys won’t wait for them.
“The Plane of Fire is hot," the Qadarin host confirms, "as should come as no surprise to experienced Pathfinders. Zjarra therefore has a protective dome that makes it merely... warm, making it a rare place for fiery creatures to interact peaceably with... combustible foreigners. Step outside the dome only at your peril.”
The next morning, Keleshite officials are waiting for the Pathfinders at the satrap’s palace. Upon confirming who they are and why they’re there, two lavishly dressed officials escort the party to a dedicated transportation room that features a large stone dais engraved with intricate runes. Here, several important Keleshite merchants and ambassadors prepare to depart. Three mages stand around the group reciting arcane words. As they wave their hands in an rhythmic gestures the shadows in the room grow noticeably darker. The white streaks in the marble column grow red, and the gold seems to burnish before your eyes. The entire group now is transported to a nearly identical chamber in the Keleshite embassy in Zjarra.
Waiting to greet you is a human female in blue silks and bearing an air of confidence. "Welcome to Zjarra Pathfinders, I am Yasmine Zamara and your embassy liason." She will show you to your accommodations and answer any questions when you are ready to go forward.
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"Thank you Yasmine, your service is appreciated. Are you also responsible for providing food and other amenities? I find that being whisked about via magical means always leaves me famished, and parched. Perhaps a hearty red and something suitably salty to go with it?" Milton peers around at the Pathfinders under his command and asks, "would any of you like anything?"
"Above all else you must know: in Zjarra, many creatures you might consider “monsters” back home are, in fact, law-abiding citizens. They are not to be murdered on the street." She stares deeply in each pair of eyes making sure that the Golarians understand. "And they are entitled to defend themselves. If attacked."
Once convinced that it is clear she answers you questions. "I have lived here my whole life. Many Keleshite families live here to create a cosmopolitan understanding of extradimensional travel, trade, languages, and manners." She takes a deep breath before continuing. "That said I still can not touch a red wine for twenty-four hours after traveling through magic."
She shows you to your rooms as she answers your questions, and then provides you with a simple, yet full, breakfast. She offers to arrange
for staff at the embassy to procure items for the party, if requested, "Payment up front of course," she smiles.
Finally as you ready to depart, she offers to give you directions. Her eyes look up from the cooled coffee she is drinking when she hears your destination, but gives you directions to Cinderstone Manor without pause.
"I do have on one final bit of advice, she says. "I understand that you have been tasked with serving Qalkami in order to gain information for the Pathfinders. From what I’m told, it’s a worthy endeavor. But you should take care not to underestimate Qalkami: she is cunning, clever, and ruthless, even for an efreeti. I’m fairly well versed on the political realities here in Zjarra, and I have a few connections. She moves a chilled glass, humidity dropping from its edges in this hot city. "If you have doubts about any of the tasks that she sets for you, I’m always happy to provide any insight I may have, especially if it means avoiding criminal activity or minimizing chaos.”
"Pathfinders?" she asks. "Circumstantial at best." Yasmine waves her arm taking in the whole of city. " My family is more concerned with relations here on this plane than those of the Material plane. However as one of the preeminent organizations on Golarian, you have earned a respect for your work." She looks as if she is about to say more, but only remarks 'citizens, not monsters' ignoring the other reputation the Society has.
She reminds you Qalkami may set you some unethical tasks, "I invite you to discuss any situations with me about which you are unsure."
“What I know is secondhand; you’d be better served learning what you can in Zjarra. That said, Qalkami’s extended family fell from the City of Brass’s good graces several decades ago or more. She’s kept her head low to avoid her enemies, most of which seem content to let her live in relative obscurity. This means she’s not bargaining from a position of insurmountable strength, but she’s hardly negotiating from a point of weakness. She could no doubt find other assistants beyond the Pathfinder Society, so don’t assume you’re holding all the cards.”
Outside the embassy building is a bright and bustling city. Far above stretches an enormous crystalline dome, and beyond it a sky of swirling red and orange inferno. The air is hot and thick, reminiscent of a humid jungle. The lush jungle plants that seem to fill every inch of space not
occupied by roads or buildings only reinforces the notion.
Zjarra’s population is primarily a mix of azers, efreet, mephits, and salamanders, but it is home to members of hundreds of different races from across nearly every plane. An angel shoulders a passing devil particularly roughly, but hostility goes no further than a scowl, as the day's errands carry the two apart.
With Yasmine’s directions, there is little difficulty finding Qalkami’s home, a domineering, gothic-style edifice of scorched adobe that towers three exaggerated stories in height and is topped by several spiked spires. A stone path crosses a yard of smoldering coals and leads to an ornate brass door with a knocker in the shape of a snarling hellhound, the ring cast to resemble flames pouring from its mouth.
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"Thank you milady," says Milton after receiving the directions.
Upon arriving at the designated house, he squares his shoulder and walks up the path to the door, reaches out his left hand and grasps the knocker. He draws it back and strikes the door authoritatively three times in succession.
"Qalkami Mishalq," Milton declares loudly, "we are come at the behest of the Society of Pathfinder to provide you service as agreed. I am Milton Smithson, come forth and tell us what you would bid us do to gain your boon!"
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"'Hardly negotiating from a point of weakness.' She wasn't kidding, look at this place."
-Posted with Wayfinder
At the tiefling's knock asmall shutter slides open. The eyes peering through are attached to a smoky voice. It asks your business and at the mention of Pathfinders the shutter closes and the door opens.
A mephite in a black uniform greets you at the door, welcomes you, then leads the Pathfinders into a sitting room.
Where you wait.
And wait.
And wait.
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The detective looks around the room, hoping to gain some new insight or greater understanding of this plane or its denizens.
Convinced they are not being watched or magically observed, Fendel surreptitiously activates his Discerning Wayfinder and studies any magic auras in the room.
"You know, in addition to the tedious minutia of the power gamesmanship being displayed, it is possible that they could be prolonging our reception to wait out any short term magical enhancements or augmentations we may have initiated before our arrival. Not an entirely unwise action."
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Milton shakes his head, "a human, an elf, an aasimar, and a tiefling go into a sitting room," he thinks. "Hardly the opening to the funniest of jokes."
"I suppose that if our services are not required, then we should return to the Society and inform the Venture Captain that Qalkami apparently had no need of our services and declined to meet with us."
and send a secret message to my fellow Pathfinders of "Check the door and we can move further into this establishment?
Fendel finds no magic of note in the room, but his other theory might just be true. As Milton begins to look for a way deeper into the manor an imposing figure with the strength of a fire giant, the dangerous elegance of an erinyes, and a fiery scar* that runs down one side of her face strides in. She invites the Pathfinders to retrieve whatever refreshments they please from a nearby liquor cabinet and engages in small talk.
*
"I trust you had a safe trip. What do you think of our warm little city? Have you ever been to the City of Brass? the elemental plane of fire? My favorite place in Golarian is your Skyreach Tower, so magnificent a sight! Milton your work on Chelaxian Law was an impressive read. What a beautiful wayfinder Fendel, it seems to work differently than most wayfinders, does it not? Nivik, I hope your arcane leanings will fit right and home here on the plane of fire. Adeah? Did you inherit your mother's voice as well, or is the namesake from your father's side?"
Qalkami is fairly candid about her need for help, "Normally I am not one to waste favors so quickly, yet that with the rise of a new Sultana in the City of Brass, there are certain opportunities that simply cannot wait." She is equally candid that Zjarra provides her no shortage of possible agents, and contracting the Pathfinder Society is merely 'a convenient means to get certain jobs done.'
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Just before the Lady enters the room, a tall and heavily cloaked man walks into the room, accompanied by a well trained dog and a *slightly* less well trained owlbear. He stands for a moment in the middle of the door, assessing those before him. His gaze lingers on Milton, a hungry gleam visible from the shadows beneath the hood.
The man slowly raises his hands to his hood, and just as slowly pushes it back to reveal the scarred visage of another Tiefling. Vestigial nubs crown his forehead, and a tail suddenly swishes from beneath it concealing cloak. "I am Awen. My companions are Grog and Cuchulainn.. We were sent by Venture-Captain Esmayl ibn Qaradi.. he was worried that you were a little short on hands for this mission."
With a bow, he continues "I apologize for my tardiness. You were not easy to track, despite my talents at such."
His gaze pierces each in the room, assessing their usefulness and their threat level. With a slight hand motion, the dog herds the owlbear back into the hall and Awen finds a seat.
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"Unfortunately all I got from her was these." Adeah indicates her wings, impressed that Qalkami knows which side was which. "Great lot of good they do me. My father was Niniel Silversong, a wizard who had a special... fondness... for the higher planes. I never knew why a garuda would conceive with an elf, but I suspect it wasn't entirely her decision. Anyway my name came from him."
-Posted with Wayfinder