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Place for Dotting and Game playing.
Here, have your characters introduce each other and get a feel for your character here. Link to map and game play area is here.
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A serious and imposing, a 6-foot-tall, bearded wizard with black hair sits with a group of fellow Pathfinders. Though relatively young, his hair and beard are prematurely streaked with silver. He behaves in a distinguished manner, and is dressed in nondescript black robes with silver runes on the sleeves.
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A dwarf, wielding a huge hammer, as tall as he is, finishes a rite to the goodly gods. He runs his hand over his silver holy symbol and looks across at the others assembled in the room. His eyes piercing anyone they look at. Etched in his armor and weaponry are symbols of Torag, Iomedae, Sarenera, and Desna. When he speaks he speaks with a deep, commanding, gravelly tone.
Me name is Ivan, warrior of the gods. Ye behave yerselves, and we ain't got nothin' to worry bout'
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"What's the fun in that Ivan? I always aim to misbehave... if only a little bit."
The playful melodic voice of a rainbow hair Assimar woman teases. Petite in stature and small of frame she sips daintily from a cup of herbal tea. Her current clothing consist of a what can best be described as an extremely form fitting ivory backless evening gown trimmed in silver lace. She sips from her tea cup before continuing:
"Darlings, my name is Eloisa. You should all smile more for you are in fine company! Don't look so serious! I'm sure that while important, this mission will be fun. Plus when we return I will compose an aria that records our deeds and will be on the lips and minds of the citizens of Absolom for the next decade!"
She adds with a wink; "Or at least a few Pathfinder historians!".
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Tis the frivolous and unserious that fail in this world lass. Discipline and hard work be the path to wealth. Find fun in the work ye do.
Ivan winks.
least that be what me dad told me fore he was killed by an orc. I tell ye lass, I have slain many an orc and undead minion. An' Since I joined the church and learned me art, I ain't had an unfun day in me life.
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Lifting his head, he shifted himself to rest his chin into his palm. He looked to Ivan then to Eloisa.
"We'll enjoy the mission," He spoke softly, his expression still stoic and his tone still lacking inflection. He pondered a moment before speaking again.
"Eloisa, you strike me as a motivator of sorts... can you sing well?" He tilted his head as he inquired looking to her.
"Ivan, I'm sure the gods would be pleased to see a dance worthy of our crusade, yes?" he smiled to the dwarf.
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With a flash of light and a stomach-churning shift, the cool, saline air of Absalom collapses into the stifling, wet heat of the Garundi coast. Within moments, sweat begins to ooze from your pores as the fetid stink of the local climate envelopes you like a damp blanket.
The scroll in Aram Zey’s hands crumbles into dust, its magic spent. The Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells removes his hat and begins fanning himself.
“All right Pathfinders, welcome to the blistering hole that is the Mwangi Expanse. Any of you who bother to keep up with your Chronicles know that the Society has an archaelogical expedition working in the Terwa Uplands, about 80 miles northwest of our position. Of course, I doubt if more than half of you read anything but dirty poetry, so allow me to sum up: the Azlant Ridge site shouldn’t be there. There are no known Azlanti sights in the Mwangi Expanse, but here we are. It may be the best-preserved evidence that the Azlanti at least visited the Mwangi Expanse. A servant of Angazhan called Ruthazek the Silverback King claims the site, too. His troops have laid siege to it and our people are starving, dying from disease, and running low on ammunition and personnel, which is where you come in.”
Zey points north through the treeline, to where a ragtag city of boardwalks and wooden buildings straddles a swampy, red river delta.
“Your first stop is Bloodcove.”
He chokes out the word as if it insulted his mother.
“The Azlant Ridge site needs supplies, and Bloodcove is the nearest trade port. They need 2 tons of food and clean water, five crates of arrows and crossbow bolts, and clean dressings for wounds. House Cartahegn is your best choice as the Society works with them occasionally. We already arranged payment to a caravan leader named Raimondo Scevola several weeks ago. Make contact with him to carry everything north. Also, look for a man named Senzer somewhere in town. He was an alchemist funneling potions and information to our team in the Uplands, but he went silent a month ago. You need to find out why and get that stream of potions flowing again.
Don’t think this will be a simple trip to the market. Bloodcove is a pit founded by pirates and run by criminals—scum with no sense of achievement or appreciation for arcane advancement. Even worse, it’s a stronghold of the Aspis Consortium, which loves nothing more than perverting and profiting from Pathfinder discoveries like Azlant Ridge. Keep your heads down and do nothing to attract suspicion; perhaps adopt a disguise.
Normally I don’t give a damn if you heroic types kick in doors, make asses of yourselves, and die, but more than your lives rests on your shoulders now. If you fail and the Azlant Ridge site receives no backup, it will surely fall.”
Aram hands over a coin pouch.
“As I said, we arranged payment for your caravan some time ago. This should cover the cost of supplies. If you dip into your own resources and manage to survive, the Society will attempt to reimburse you. “Once you deal with that business, head northwest.”
He presents a sealed scrollcase and an ornate, golden key on a leather thong.
“Guard these with your lives. The key’s exact purpose eludes me, but the symbol it bears is repeated on a doorway at Azlant Ridge. The scrollcase contains a map to the dig site. My magics secure the case, though, and it will explode violently if opened within five miles of Bloodcove. Ask your questions now. I return to Absalom the moment I believe you capable of getting to Bloodcove.”
Hero of Freedom,
Some infernal malady passed around our Absalom offices without pause for weeks now. I purchased a tonic, a “Rulkep’s Superlative Antimalarial” that cleared my symptoms overnight, but have been unable to locate more for my staff. The apothecary informs me the bottle arrived from Bloodcove, so do keep your eyes open for more of it. Ill health is the most pernicious of freedom’s enemies.
Keep your wits about you and seek a young Chelish noble named Trato with black hair and distinctive red bangs. A brilliant faith in equality burns in this boy’s heart, but he fled from Westcrown before we could approach him. We believe him to be in Bloodcove now, and hear that the Chelaxians also seek to persuade him to return home. Convince him to do so, recruit him to work for us as a double agent, and bring freedom to his shackled homeland.
For Andoran,
Captain Colson Maldris
Delicious Plaything,
It seems even refined Chelish blood exhibits no immunity to youthful rebellion. A boy of sixteen years, Trato of Westcrown snubbed his high breeding and fled his familial responsibilities. He is identifiable both by his obviously good breeding and his hair: raven black with a shock of red in the front.
Find Trato. My divinations place him in the Mwangi Expanse, but somewhere thick with the stink of seawater, so he likely serves aboard some peasant ship. If you can convince him to return as well, all the better, but if you fail, I will simply dispatch agents more specialized in retrieving petulant brats.
Expectant and Impatient,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen
Trusted Servant of the Ruby Prince,
Some years ago, the Sothan Alchemical Academy lost one of its more promising alumni to Bloodcove. While the skills of Senzer Rulkep have undoubtedly dulled during his decades in exile, I learned recently of the birth of his son, Roald. Should you encounter Senzer on your trip to Bloodcove, kindly deliver the enclosed letter. It offers a full scholarship for his boy at our prestigious school.
On graver business, you must also be wary of an Osirian man bearing distinctive scarab tattoos on his face. Amukhet began as a vile smuggler of our national history, but recently he graduated to outright murder of customs inspectors. The Ruby Prince has already signed Amukhet’s death warrant. Should you encounter the man, your sacred duty demands you take his life, ideally without creating an international incident.
For the Ancestors,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
Servant of the Satrap,
The Mwangi interior provides many profitable luxuries for our market stalls, but information rules every merchant. Keep an ear to the ground in Bloodcove, and learn what local goods may be in surplus this season so we may begin raising a demand for them in Absalom now.
Enclosed you will also find sealed documents—forged contracts with which we hope to sow discord. See to it these contracts find their way into the possession of a reasonably important Aspis Consortium corpse for their comrades to discover.
Sincerely,
Pasha Muhlia Al-Jakri
Loyal Servant of the Emperor,
After a rather embarrassing bout of courtly intrigue, I find myself saddled with a cursed crocodile idol. Ignore the specifics as to how I know this, but it must be returned to the waters of the Mwangi immediately! I suppose any water will do, but it should be somewhere no one else will discover it. The smiling crocodile god must never again leave the jungle!
If time remains, try to find your way into the Cartahegn Sugarpress there in Bloodcove. The bastards make a fortune keeping Taldan bakeries here in Absalom knee deep in sugar, and if you could find any recent shipping records, it should give us an insight for upcoming negotiations.
For Taldor!
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
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"Eloisa, you strike me as a motivator of sorts... can you sing well?" He tilted his head as he inquired looking to her.
Just as the magic transports them Eloisa replies; "Indeed, I can be a diplomat, motivator, and sing like no other."
After listening to Aram Zey condescending dissertation Eloisa looks down at her gown. "I think I may need to change outfits gentlemen." Eloisa picks up her pack from around her feet and looks around for sufficient brush or a tree to change behind. The move for privacy is made for Aram's sake more then her own. She wouldn't want the master of spells distracted.
"If I would have known I would have brought my stage makeup kit." She says from behind a nearby tree as she replaces the gown with studded leather armor and the high heels with sturdy knee high boots. Now wearing adventuring gear and with her gown and shoes tucked away neatly in her pack she emerges from behind the tree. Her new outfit is far more functional then fashionable.
"I will still have to find something to do with my hair..." Eloisa trails off then turns to address Aram Zey.
"Master Aram why not used the teleportation scroll you just used to bring us here to drop off supplies within the confines of the besieged archaeological expedition?
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Feeling the magic coming about, the elf spun around in his seat, grabbing his banner as they were teleported. "Close" he whispered to himself. He felt the heat begin to affect him, thus removing the tunic from his shoulder and letting it hang loosely at his waist tied on from the belt. His physique was toned, but not from strength but instead from his agility. He was otherwise lithe.
He stood, holding his banner in hand.
He watched Eloisa turn behind a tree to dress then shifted his attention to the others. "At least she comes prepared." He smirked.
"Master Aram why not used the teleportation scroll you just used to bring us here to drop off supplies within the confines of the besieged archaeological expedition?"
Placing a hand to chin, his features still showing no, if only little, expression, The elf spoke up, his head nodding in the direction of Eloisa.
"Something is blocking that. Something strong. Otherwise we wouldn't be here." His voice was soft, though a hint of assumed inquiry was within his words toward Master Aram was present. "I wonder what would halt that though..."
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Aram Zey looks at these two pathfinders standing before him, he laughed and looked at Eloisa.
"Teleport the supplies directly, and What? Rob me of the opportunity to shuttle around know-it-all junior Pathfinders? The Pathfinder in charge of the dig site erected some sort of dimensional anchor, probably using one of the artifacts they uncovered. As a side effect, the magic blocks any attempts at magical communication.”
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Ivan looks a bit more woozy than any dwarf ever should, then a split second later shakes his head and glowers at Amsheagar.
Dont be doin' that without tellin' a dwarf would ye??!! Bloody hell, nearly made me sick.
Ivan grumbles and grumbles As the mission is described to them.
oye, I think I signed up fer the wrong mission. ah well, we'll get ye yer supplies, though as to how we are gonna get over a ton of goods through a siege still baffles me. Ain't it the point to keep caravans out?
He grumbles a bit more about having to stand letting criminals run around free performing crimes, and something about wishing one of the buggers tries to pick his pocket.
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Thael chuckles quietly, his right hand stroking his black beard, which bears premature gray streaks.
"The transfer of matter or energy from one point to another without traversing the physical space between them is much more complex than the lay-person gives credit for. Moving several tons of supplies via magical transport is certainly easier said than done. We will leave that to the strong backs of the laborers we contract to move the supplies. Regardless, we will complete this task," he says.
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Aram raised an eyebrow as he looked at Ivan. "That is a foolish question young pathfinder. Of course it is our duty to help out those in need."
He sighs as he looks at the other pathfinders around him. "Now, before i am on my way, do you have any more questions that might be of use for your endeavor into the city?"
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"Seems simple enough to me 1) buy supplies for the besieged expedition from consortium controlled bloodcove 2) get several tons of supplies to expedition. 3) find a guy named Sezner in the process. 4) try not to let people know we are from the pathfinder society 5) and most importantly try not to die in the process."
She says with a coy smile
Peice of cake!
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For those of you with some knowledge, try these.
Knowledge Geography
Knowledge Local or Diplomacy (gather information)
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Thael discloses what he knows about the region to his companions. More information was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't recall more that he had once learned about the area. This obviously frustrated the wizard to no end.
"Bloodcove lies on the western edge of the Mwangi Expanse. The local culture blends Cheliax with The Shackles and native Mwangi traditions...but this is all obvious to the novice scholar. Think!"
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Aram Zey looks at the Pathfinders he has chosen for this mission and thinks to himself.. What a bunch of freshlings. He sighs. "There is two more things I can tell you before I go. First, Ruthazek is some sort of hyper-intelligent gorilla and worshiper of Angazhan. He rules the inland city of Usaro and claims the Mwangi Expanse and all its contents. He’s uncivilized and violent, from what we hear, unwilling to negotiate with us. He rules over a race of sentient ape-men, but they keep a healthy distance from Bloodcove." He watches and waits for someone to takes notes, before continuing.
"Senzer is someone who serves us as an alchemist and a valuable source of information and potions for our operations in this region. I believe his shop lies somewhere along the Widow’s Walk. Share as little as possible with him; everyone in the town has some stinking agenda. But he already knows of our local operations and the location of the dig site.”
Aram looks around at the party one last time, before turning and walking away. He stops about 10 feet away from everyone and turns back to look at each of you. "Before i go, I want to know how you are going to disguise yourself inside of the city. Remember that Pathfinders ."
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What you need for your disguises. Please roll in spoilers.
You will need to hide your weapons and any noticable magical objects. Also, I need an Appraise or a Diplomacy check from you before we start the first act.
If you chose to do something else, Let me know and i'll have your requirements up for you ASAP. Also, where would you like to go first?
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"I'd suggest we head to bloodcove for the supplies." he says, kneeling to the ground, looking it over with a monotonic voice.
"I'm of the Silver Crusade, I'll act my part." He stood, looking to Ivan with a small flare in his eye.
"I'll admit, I'm terrified now." He looks to the others.
"I will commute evil to dust. As should all crusaders."
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Aram Zey nods his head at how you dress yourself. "Good day pathfinders, and good luck." He says before vanishing in a puff of smoke.
Since you don't know your way around a paper bag :p Bloodcove, you decide to seek out the one person who might know a little more and help you with your mission. With Eloisa fantastic diplomacy, you find your way to The Wandering Way, where you might locate Scevola, and procure your much needed information... also a way to transport the supplies out of the town.
The humid stink of Bloodcove mingles with the reek of sweat and the sickly-sweet odor of tropical plants and exotic tobaccos. The foyer of the guild house looks more like a tavern than a place of business, with tables carved from dark jungle woods and overstuffed cushions. Older men and women mingle or brood over their drinks, while strapping young toughs claim the area around the cold hearth.
Across the room, a swarthy, moustachioed man bellows in anger. He sweeps an arm across the tabletop shared with a red cheeked companion, spilling drinks and playing cards onto the carpet. “You bashterd,” he drunkenly shrieks, “You scheating bashterd, Elanzo! I need thoshe animalsh! I have a client whoshe paid fer my caravan!”
His companion wrings the remains of his drink out of his shirt. “No one cares, Scevola. Those were the stakes, and your horses will be chow for my men before we set sail in the morning!”
“You shlipped shomethin in mah drink! You’re taking my horshesh over mah dead body!”
Elanzo simply shrugs at this and snaps his fingers. The large brutes gathered by the hearth stand up and begin moving toward the pair.
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Seeing the scene in front of her Eloisa reacts quickly reaching down to adjust her clothing so that her cleavage is as noticeable as possible. Then she places her index finger and thumb into her mouth and blows as loud and shrill whistle as she can muster.
"Fellas! There is no need for any that! Now who wants to buy a girl a drink while we hash this out!"
Eloisa gives an exaggerated wink toward the table of Elanzo and Scevola.
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Andre looks at Elsisa and laughs. "If i had the money that this cheat owes us, i might have taken you up on that offer. But this guy owes us 300g. That's not something a sailor can easily come across."
He looks back towards Scevola and says again. "You don't have our money, so we will be taking your horses."