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To most, Mount Shibotai's devastating eruption was a footnote in Tian history. To the shadow-bound wayangs who settled the jagged crater in Minata, the volcano was the reason they inhabited Golarion at all. In their de facto capitol Inahiyi, the wayangs host an annual festival to commemorate the catastrophe that brought them into this world and forced them to ally with their neighbors against a common threat. On especially auspicious anniversaries, the wayangs invite foreigners to contribute to the ceremony, and the Pathfinder Society has negotiated the privilege of having its agents observe the sacred ceremonies as these outside participants. This is no mere anthropological opportunity, though, and the PCs may be all that stands between their world and an unspeakable evil.
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For the new Society members who just finished their training, or as a reminder of those history-geography classes the veterans took a while back, here are some basics about the Pathfinder world (nothing needed for this adventure, simply for your curiosity):
Golarion
Golarion is the third planet of eleven orbiting a yellow sun in the far reaches of the Material Plane.
Golarion's crater-scarred moon, Somal, fills its night sky.
Its nearest planetary neighbors, Castrovel the Green World and Akiton the Red Planet (second and fourth from the sun, respectively), are easily visible as colored stars.
Due to its innately hospitable and life-sustaining environment compared to other worlds, presumably the work of the gods, astronomers sometimes refer to Golarion as "the Child".
Astronomers on other planets, however, often refer to Golarion as "the Cage" in reference to its cosmic role as the prison of the mad god Rovagug, who lies bound at the world's core.
Inner Sea region
The Inner Sea region refers to the continent of Avistan and the northern third of the continent of Garund, both of which surround the Inner Sea.
At the heart of this region is the City at the Center of the World: Absalom.
The Inner Sea region is also the center for trade in this part of Golarion, and has therefore been the staging area for countless, terrible wars over the past ten millennia.
Absalom
For more than 4,000 years, Absalom (pronounced AB-sah-lahm) has been the City at the Center of the World, a metropolis-sized showcase of the greatest treasures in all Golarion.
The importance and influence of Absalom upon the Inner Sea and the whole of Golarion can not be overstated.
The city holds a key strategic position for both commercial and military endeavors in the region.
It is also where the Pathfinder's Society's Grand Lodge is located (the centre of the Society's activities).
Avistan
Avistan (pronounced AV-ihs-tan) is a continent on the world of Golarion.
One of the most heavily-settled areas on the planet, Avistan possesses as many varied cultures and environments as any other continent in the world and an ancient history stretching back tens of thousands of years.
The continent is home to once-great empires like Cheliax and Taldor, rising powers like Andoran and Molthune, and the ancient ruins of Thassilon in the wild frontier of Varisia
An inhabitant of Avistan is known as an Avistani.
Garund
Garund (pronounced gah-ROOND) is a Golarion continent located south of Avistan, across the Inner Sea.
At one time, central Garund was the heart of civilisation in the hemisphere. It was a major territory of the cyclopes, who once ruled all of Golarion.
Today, there are also some highly developed nations including Osirion, Katapesh, and Holomog.
Now, much of the continent is uncharted and uncivilised, but numerous ancient ruins await bold explorers, so, despite the civilizations along the outer edges of the landmass, it remains a dangerous and wild place.
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Meanwhile, on the "other side" of Golarion:
Tian Xa
Tian Xia (pronounced TEE-yawn-shaw) is the continent geographically farthest from Avistan, and lies across the Embaral Ocean.
Often referred to as the Dragon Empires, Tian Xia is most easily accessed by the residents of Avistan via the dangerous land route over Golarion's northernmost continent, the icy Crown of the World.
Tian Xa has acted as a cradle of civilization for nearly 7,000 years, and in that time has boasted three continent-spanning empires, the most recent of which, Lung Wa, ruled up until a century ago.
Mainland Tian Xia today has many different sovereign nations, many of which have experienced a cultural renaissance since the fall of Lung Wa.
Dtang Ma
Conquered by Imperial Lung Wa only 20 years before its ultimate collapse, Dtang Ma is a nation in southern Tian Xia.
The country is ruled by a feudal confederation of powerful sorcerers, their leader - the " kamraten" - currently being one Khemkhaeng, who sits in the capital city of Ramparassad.
Ramparassad
Ramparassad is the traditional capital of Dtang Ma, home to its ruling "kamraten" and his Cinnamon Throne.
Ramparassad is inland, located at the foot of the active volcano Pho-Yim in the eastern Kullan Dei mountains.
With over 75,000 inhabitants, Ramparassad is the nation's largest city.
Minata
Minata, also known as the Wandering Isles or the Minata Archipelago, is the massive archipelago located on the far southeastern edge of the continent of Tian Xia.
It is home to the Tian ethnicity called the Tian-Sing.
The Minatans have no capital city, nor any central government or ruler.
These vary by island, each being run by many local warlords, captains, and chieftains.
Mount Shibotai
Mount Shibotai is a volcano in the Minatan region of Tian Xia.
It erupted in -2476 AR covering the continent in ash, darkening the skies for months and forming a ring of islands at the northern end of the Minatan archipelago.
Inhabitants feared it might herald a repeat of the catastrophes that caused the Age of Ashes almost 3,000 years before.
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Note:
Absalom Reckoning or AR is the most commonly used calendar in Avistan and Garund, and possibly in all of Golarion.
It takes its beginning from the date of the founding of Absalom.
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How you got to Tian Xa, being born here, through long hard travel, or simply stepping into a Society teleportation circle, is a tale for some other day.
Today's tale is that you are in Goka, in the Petal District, in the Lantern Lodge, at the lacquered table of Venture-Captain Amara Li, as the graceful and poised lady executes a tea ceremony... with perfection.
While you wait in silence, all six seated in a half moon facing her, you reflect upon various matters as your mind wanders...
Goka is a vital port city that rivals Absalom in size and diversity, and serves as a gateway to Tian Xia for travelers from the west.
...and your eyes dart from one incredibly rare and beautiful item on display to another yet even daintier.
Once the tea has been prepared, and you each are handed your porcelain cup of the hot beverage, Amara looks at each of you: "Pray tell me more about you, who honor me by answering my humble request".
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Evarice holds her ostentaious hat uncomfortably. Ostrich feathers are clearly not native here, and she's worried about upsetting some environmentalists. The ostrich was dead when the tailor found them, seriously.
"I am Evarice Bue, cleric of Shelyn, member of the Pathfinder Society, and pleased to make your acquaintance. Thank you for the tea. Your preparation was... mesmerizing."
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Graff looks slightly uncomfortable sitting down as everybody else is with his axe lying beside him.
"Nothing much to say about me but I'm an Axe of Rovagug and am here as a member of the Society. It is an honor to be here by itself though if there is something that needs smashing, do tell. I'll do something about it free of charge." Flexing muscles he scratches his head in thought wondering if perhaps he might just ahve said the wrong things once more.
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"A follower of Rovagug? And you are quite open about it, no less. Most consider the Rough Beast and his followers unthinking engines of destruction and little else." A half-elf in pristine white robes sips his tea. He also wears arm-length gloves of the same color and material, attached to the garment, and a similar band, like a blindfold, around his eyes. "This mission will be interesting, certainly."
"I am Zephyr. Humble merchant and maker of jewelry, as well as Kalistocrat and accomplished mage. I hope my wealth of arcane power and knowledge will prove useful in this task."
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"The big guy is pretty much misunderstood. We tend to be a rough lot and tend to act first without thinking. I cannot deny that the simple thinking the big guy promotes is attractive though. The soceity though sometimes needs us for that kind of tasks" Graff makes a half hearted protest even though he knows some of his more zealous fellows would be more then happy to endorse it.
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"Everyone is varied and unique in their own ways." Evarice smoothes her dress out a bit so it doesn't fall into her teacup. "Some forests fires are beneficial that they clear deadwood and spread their seeds far and wide, for example."
Just then, as if magically conjured by Evarice's comments about natural disasters, Apollyanna arrives on the scene. She is a tall and lanky human girl in her late teens, a junior paladin-squire in service to the Eternal Maiden of Beauty, Love, and Poise, Shelyn and she has just realized that she is late (again!).
That sounded like Evarice in there, I wonder if she has that shirt I let her borrow last year? We should really get the Shelyn scouts back together again. Maybe even Pau (assuming he's not gotten too old).
Apollyanna attempts to sneak her way into the tea ceremony chamber just like those really sneaky people in black pajamas she vaguely remembers dreaming about in the Grand Lodge lecture hall, during Dean Aram Zey's lectures on regional history.
She inadvertently trips over Zephyr.... "WHOA!" *THUD!* ** *Rattle-rattle-rattle-rattle-rattle-rattle-rattle-rattle* *CLANG!*
"Owww. I think I fell on someone's keys.... Oh! Hi!" she says trying to play it off from her sprawled position across the elf wizard's lap.
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Amara Li smiles at Evarice, who suddenly realizes that her tea has a different fragrance than the beverage Amarai poured for the others.
Actually, Apollyanna's smells the same... chrysanthemums, that is it, that's what it smells of.
And, as if answering your thoughts, Amara states: "Your Goddess is known as the Lady of Chrysanthemums to us Tian".
Graff then looks down, and sees that he has been served a cup of red tea, that smells of cinnamon and spice, and it still bubbling... like a little volcano.
"I am happy to see that you seem to channel your destructive urges, honorable Axe. Very commendable", Amara tells him.
Zephyr's tea is like a cloud of white, a dash of milk having spread out.
Also, Amara, though she handed the cups to all the others, did not do so with Zephyr. Instead she set it down in front of him, so he could then pick it up without risking touching her hand.
Amused by Apollyanna's failed discreet entrance, Amara feigns surprise at seeing the Paladin of Shelyn, and bows her head deep to her, whispering about channelling destructive urges.
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Amara Li smiles at Evarice, who suddenly realizes that her tea has a different fragrance than the beverage Amarai poured for the others.
Actually, Apollyanna's smells the same... chrysanthemums, that is it, that's what it smells of.
Apollyanna sniffs her shirt's sleeve. Yep, chrysanthemums.
She tries to lever herself off of Zephyr.
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Seeing Apollyanna's enter Nit turns to the door. Bright blue hair stands frazzles in all directions on his misshapen head with golden orbs, hidden behind thick goggles offer a stark contrast. Looking through his eyes they seem almost pure golden with little to no pupils. "Names Nitkiflink Stormfizz. You can call me Nit though." He raps a cold iron spear's haft hard against the ground as a second spear is criss-crossed across his back.
"I am a fellow practitioner of the arcane arts. Though it is more accurate that in coarses through my veins as well as Dragon's blood. Or so my folks say."
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"...Hello," Zephyr mumbles, a bit confused and quite uncomfortable. The half-elf seems much more at ease when Apollyanna moves. Ever since I took up the mantle of the Kalistocracy, several women have been acting strange around me. Is there a correlation? Am I imagining things?
Moreover, he seems relieved when Nit enters, seizing on the distraction. "Well met. Dragon's blood, you say? Very interesting. Could you elaborate?"
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Amara bows her head to Nit, handing him a little jade cup, with two dancing dragons engraved on the side: "Welcome Nitkiflink Stormfizz Dragonblood. Such ancestry is a great thing in these lands, for we revere our Dragons".
Having sipped some of her own tea, Amara then smiles at all of: "Since you are all here - well, not in this room, but in the Lodge, since one of you seems more interested in ink than tea, especially when the ink is in the form of writings on old scrolls in our archives - I wish to tell you that", and she stands up, "I have asked you to come here, in order to travel to Ramparassad, capital of Dtang Ma, some 4,000 miles to the East. There, you will meet with Old Pak, a loyal Pathfinder operating on my behalf, and he will divulge the reasons for my call for aid, as well as answer any questions you may have".
Amara stands up, her silk gown falling elegantly in place: "If you wish to eat, refresh, bathe, or otherwise prepare yourselves before gathering your belongings in order to journey, please do so, my humble abode is your house. We can gather when you are ready".
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An elderly face of Varisian origin eventually peaks around the doorway.
"Ahh, yes... this looks to be the right place."
A man in scholars robes emerges, looking a little abashed.
"My apologies, I was distracted by a work on Imperial Lung Wa I saw on a shelf..."
Then, after taking a seat realises that everyone else must have already introducted themselves.
"Khellek! I'm sure you will have heard of me, and I'm hoping read one of my missives. I would have made the most recent edition of the Chronicles, but for that darned attention grabber Dr Jones, showing off with that ridiculous whip of his. Who cares that he manged to trip an Aspis gold agent with it and then tie them up? Where is the history, but what makes it to the Chronicles.... cheap showmanship."
His bitter rant over the scholar looks at the other pathfinders. "Ahh Zephyr, I know, I'm not sure if I have had the company of the rest of you before."
He accepts a cup of tea before Amara's words sink in.
"Did I hear you say 4000 miles? May I ask what transport is being laid on? I'm not sure my shoes will survive such a trek."
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"Please, Learned Master Khellek, our libraries are always at your disposal. As for this Dr. Janes, Jines? Who is he, I have never heard of him", says Amara Li.
Then, Amara turns and pushes a silk screen to the side, revealing a room in which a pair - a man and a woman - are painting symbols on the floor.
"I could never forgive myself for wearing out your shoes: teleportation is easier on the feet", says Amara.
She then looks to all of you: "If you wish to eat, refresh, bathe, or otherwise prepare yourselves before gathering your belongings, please do so, my humble abode is your house. We can gather for your speedy transport to Ramparassad when you are ready".
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"Khellek! I'm sure you will have heard of me, and I'm hoping read one of my missives. I would have made the most recent edition of the Chronicles, but for that darned attention grabber Dr Jones, showing off with that ridiculous whip of his...."
"Well it is 15 feet long. -Wait! You know Andoran Jones!"
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"Khellek! Good to see you once again. I trust you've recovered from that accursed jungle heat," Zephyr smiles, after taking another sip of tea. "I hope we can discover and learn as much together as we did on our last mission, if not more."
The Kalistocrat perks up once more at the mention of teleportation. "A feat of magic I hope to be capable of one day."
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"Know..." sneers Khellek " is far too strong a word. We have crossed paths. He shows precious little care for the beauty of history, being far more inclined to cheap theatrics and attention (and money) grabbing headlines than the advancement of knowledge."
He gives a nod of thanks to Amara and a smile of greeting to Zephyr. "I too am hopeful. Surely we will discover something to grace the cover article of the Chronicles. "
He sips his tea. "I've not had the...pleasure.. of teleportation magic before. I hear it can quite upset the stomach..."
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Amara sends someone to fetch the scrolls Evarice wants, or to accompany the priestess and guide her to the divine vendor if that is her choice.
Zephyr and Khellek watch the preparations. They see that the two people preparing are actually covering the drawings of the 5 foot radius circle with valuable amber dust.
The dust seems to be soaked up, and is nearly not visible.
Those who know something about arcane casting understand that this is a Teleportation Circle, one of the highest level spells... meaning that one of the two simple people here are some level 17 or higher Wizard, or the equivalent!
Amara smiles at Khellek: "Have no fear, this specific spell cannot have you arriving off target. You will simply walk into the circle once it is activated... and appear outside Pak's shop. You will not even have time for an upset stomach".
Soon the two "helpers" are finished, and the female one weaves arcane words of power for some ten minutes, while her companion bows to Amara Li.
Amara tells you: "When you are ready, take the first steps of your mission. You have some hours before the circle closes, so no rush".
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"Know..." sneers Khellek " is far too strong a word. We have crossed paths. He shows precious little care for the beauty of history, being far more inclined to cheap theatrics and attention (and money) grabbing headlines than the advancement of knowledge."
"So do you think you might be able to get me an autograph?"
Zephyr and Khellek watch the preparations. They see that the two people preparing are actually covering the drawings of the 5 foot radius circle with valuable amber dust.
"Hey! What's that?" Apollyanna asks.
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"Well met. Dragon's blood, you say? Very interesting. Could you elaborate?"
Nit shrugs "No clue. Just what I have been told. Hundreds of years ago I guess one of use wandered into some cave filled with them and ended up drenched in dragons blood as a nest of em got in a fight. Magic filled the large cave infusing it with his body which is told to pass it on down the line. At least they say that is how I am able to cast these spells."
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Nit sits in rapt silence as the pair slowly create the arcane circle of teleportation. "Amazing!" He says as his head bobs about looking left and right.
As it is complete, Amara Li is barely able to get her sentence complete as Nit leaps through the portal. "WHEEEEEeeee..."
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The scholar watches the two casters for a while, and then grows a bit distracted by a rare tome of epic poetry. He takes it from the shelf, wondering what happened to the author eventually.
He looks up at Polly approaches. Smiling indulgently his face rapidly changes from that of a helpful teacher as he listens to her request.
"His Autograph? Why in the name of all the gods would you want His autograph? What has he contributed to the greater knowledge of the society? Since the incident with the Pink Orchids, I have had the distinct pleasure of avoiding being in the same room as Dr Jones."
He sniffs, and looks down his nose trying to lose himself back in the book of ancient poetry and quite failing to do so.
And it is always the pretty young ones too. ARRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHH
"That..." he says looking up. "Are two very accomplished spellcasters conducting a ritual. And when I say accomplished, I mean truly so, not like Dr Jones. Either could probably turn the lot of us into toads in the blink of an eye, or travel to the outer planes with a click of their fingers. "
He smiles indulgently. "Although this book can bring us into the past, something that I suspect is beyond even them."
As the ritual completes and Nit dives into the circle the scholar shudders slightly. "Is nobody else concerned that this mission has called on powers of this significance, and what that might mean in terms of the challenges we are going to face? I near the new shoe leather may be the least of my concerns by the time this is over."
He stands, takes a crossbow out of his satchel and hands it on one side of his belt. Then he rummages around inside in, eventually coming out with a quiver of bolts to hang on the other side.
"Preparation is the key to all successful ventures." notes the scholar. "Why when the ancient Osirani 'Pharaoh of flies' took his vast army north he failed to fully prepare and was sent fleeing back to his own borders with his army in tatters behind him."
He offers Polly a short bow and then follows her into the circle.
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"This is some of the most advanced magic mortals can bear the weight of," Zephyr marvels. He is in agreement with Khellek but can hardly bring himself to care about the significance, when faced with this wonder of arcane power. "I hardly feel worthy of gazing upon it, much less making use of it, but that is immaterial. You're right, though, I suppose one must wonder why such pains are being taken on this mission. Perhaps we shall see, perhaps not."
With that, he bows to Amara Li in respect and thanks, before stepping onto the circle. He tries to keep Khellek between himself and Apollyanna.
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Hefting his axe over his shoulders, Graff makes an attempt at a bow seeing the others doing it.
"We'll be off now. My thanks for providing us this circle of teleportation magic. I see that you're sparing no expense on this. Also I'm grateful for do this mission with such famous pathfinders though I honestly have no idea of whom they speak off."
Waiting his turn, Graff enters only after the rest has obviously cleared the circle. Walking confidently for future things to break or smash but such things shouldn'y be said out loud after all...........
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Nit leaps through the portal: "WHEEEEEeeee..." and the Lodge around him disappears and-- he is in midair, and falling.
"WHOOOOOoooo..."
A thought goes through Nit's mind: No fear arriving off target she said, really?!
As his mind tries to understand how he could have been teleported in such a dangerous position, and how to react-- NIt lands with a thud.
Then, one after the other, Nit's five companions appear a few feet above him-- and come crashing down upon him: Ouch, ouch, ouch..., Graff being the last: OUCH!
Looking around you see you are in a courtyard, where a couple Tian workers drop their shovels and run away in fear, screaming for help.
It seems you arrived where you were supposed to, in a secluded, fenced in, yard, behind some building... except that these workers had dug a big hole just at your arrival point, and, given the smell on your clothes, they were here to repair something with the sewage pipes.
Sigh!
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Khellek gets tiredly to his feet, dusting off his scholars robes.
"Does anyone else speak Tien?" he asks, as he climbs out of the dung pit.
Then, remembering his manner he extends a hand to help Apollyanna and then Evarice out.
"We are looking for Pak.." he calls out in Tien to the workers.
While he waits for their return, the scholar remembers a trick one of his students showed him once in return for some extra tuition. Within a moment his robes are once again clean and sweet smelling.
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The hat will need cleaning... Evarice stows her ostritch hat and switches it for her tricone hat. "Well that didn't work out fully, but we are in the right area. Let's look for Pak." She uses her glaive to stand herself up. "I'm alright, Khellek. But thank you for the offer."
Evarice looks around. "I'll start asking for Old Pak, and the Pathfinder Society."
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"Ugh...." Zephyr sighs as he stands up, also using prestidigitation to clean his clothes and those of the others. "Such insanely powerful magic on one's side, and the rest of the world still finds a way to bring you down. There's a lesson in that."
"I don't speak Tien, unfortunately, though I'm certainly not the most charming of the bunch. I should learn it at some point. This is my third mission in the Dragon Empires and I've been lucky enough to encounter people who spoke Taldane the last two."
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As you all clean up, and there is nice clean rain falling from the sky to help with the arcane prestidigitation, you realize you are in the humidity-laced capital of Ramparassad: Dtang Ma.
A dismal downpour of rain accompanies your arrival, and you smell the scent of thick tobacco on the air.
You are in the back yard of a shop, and an old Tian man exits the back door, with the two workers pointing at you.
"I am so sorry", Pak says in common, pulling from his long pipe. "I am Old Pak, and my pipes are backed up. Oh, no, not this one, those", he points to the hole. "They are clogged up, and... well, you are not here for plumbing problems. Come on in, come on in..." Then he stops: "Unless one of you is a plumbing craftsman? No? No... sorry. Come, come..."
He invites you into “Pak’s Tobacco and Spice”.
Inside, Old Pak moves behind the counter of the otherwise closed shop, enjoying another pull from his long pipe.
A small, pale figure with multiple tattoos and piercings is waiting inside, wandering among the rows of collected masks opposite the entrance.
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"Indeed, what are we to do? We're here to help," Zephyr agrees, wracking his brains about the shadowy figure even as he nods in greeting to it. "Hello," he adds, hoping it understands Common. The Kalistocrat takes a look at the masks it studies. "These are quite interesting. Do they have some history behind them?'
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Nit is still wiping raw sewage from his clothes as he enters the shop. A small bit flings out onto set of teapots. He looks up a bit embarrassed and smiles sheepishly. "Sorry about that." he raises a hand to clean it off, only smudging it all over the place instead.
"As Khellek said. We are here to help where we can. We were sent by Amara Li."
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From behind the counter, Old Pak nods to Khellek’s use of Tian, but pursues in Common, bowing deep to Evarice: ”You are my guests, so I am to know your languages not the opposite. And, yes, it is a beautiful establishment, thank you for noticing”.
Khellek finds no seat at all, as Old Pak pursues, nodding to Nit and Graff: ”Fine Pathfinders, eager to assist!”,
You hear whisting coming from a little room behind him. Old Pak glances over his shoulder: ”The tea is already boiling and should be ready soon! So, greetings, Pathfinders. I am glad you could make it”.
Seeing Zephyr addressing the pale figure, Pak motions: ”My guest here, is Harjandi, who joins us from the usually reclusive Minatan city of Inahiyi with a request for aid. It’s rare for the wayangs of that region to venture out of their homeland, and I’ve decided to hear her message; and based on your prompt arrival, it seems you have too!”
The wayang woman bows to Zephyr, then, turning from her tour of the masks, she bows to all while looking at each of you in turn: “Though Inahiyi has few visitors, we have heard tales of the great Pathfinder Society and their interest in and respect for history and ritual”. Like Pak, she addresses you in Common: ”My city holds an annual festival to commemorate its founding, which was also when we came to friendly terms with the locals of Minata. The celebration includes ceremonial reenactments of our dealings with those ancient humans, roles that my fellow wayangs usually don masks and costumes to portray”. She smiles as she looks back up at all the masks on Pak’s wall, seeing to it that Zephyr understands she is answering his question now.
Then she goes on with her story: ”Approximately every half a century, however, the festival falls on the autumnal equinox and tradition requires that outsiders participate”. She waves her hands at you: “The celebration is only a few days away, and if you accompany me back home, we will be happy to compensate you for your time. You’ll also have the esteem of being among the very few outsiders to witness our rituals. And, of course, you will be treated as guests of honor at the festival”.
Puffing on his pipe, Old Pak adds: ”Not to mention the possibility of strengthening ties between the Society and Inahiyi!”. He suddenly coughs, as he is startled by the sound of the boiling kettle whistling and chokes on the last inhalation from his pipe.
“Tea’s ready! Let us have some, and”, glancing at Graff, ”no thoughts of smashing”.
You all gather for tea in the back room, with Khellek seeing that there are no chairs here either, just ridiculously low stools, that he has trouble leaning back enough to reach. But Khellek has no trouble sharing what he knows, along with Zephyr, and the two explain what they know of all things mentioned: ”Wayangs are short humanoids who are usually gaunt and have large noses. Well, I mean no offense! And though their skin is often a muted gray, many wayangs ritually bleach their skin and wear many piercings. As a species, wayangs originated on the Shadow Plane, but they were trapped on the Material Plane millennia ago when their portals home closed unexpectedly”
Harjandi nods her agreement as the two learned ones go on: ”Though it is one of the
most populous settlements of the archipelago nation of Minata, Inahiyi has very little contact with the rest of the world. The settlement is located on the ring of islands known as the Shibobekas, which were once the immense volcano Mount Shibotai. The islands are now inhabited by various tribes of wayangs, with Inahiyi being their de facto capital”.
Zephyr suddenly lowers his voice, and looks around, the shadows of the masks casting eery figures on the walls: ”The wayangs of Inahiyi settled their city to keep watch over a shadowy presence they believe dwells within the remains of the volcano. History states that wayangs came to this location near the end of Tian Xia’s Age of Ashes to attempt to return to the Shadow Plane, but accidentally unleashed powerful, evil entities instead. With the help of a few Minatan heroes, they trapped one of the creatures and are now devoted to maintaining its prison”.
Khellek then adds something even Zephyr seems not to have known: ”Very few people have heard of Abbinthurtaa, the Inahiyan festival that commemorates the city’s founding. Despite the wayangs’ reclusiveness, rumors have surfaced that the celebration is part of an elaborate ritual the wayangs perform to keep a shadowy evil imprisoned. However, most believe that the rites are simply part of an elaborate allegory representing the wayangs’ inner struggle with their darker selves. Some outspoken wayangs have declared the rituals to be a hoax, and hope to one day reveal the pointlessness of their kindred’s ceremonies. And I do hope that the wayang have such household items as… seats!”
Harjandi is very impressed, and nods: ”Such scholars! Though it is not my place to say whether the celebration is a true ritual or an allegory, I will answer if you have any questions?”
Old Pak pours more jasmin tea for whoever finishes their cup.
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"Well.. this will certainly be very interesting. What more can you tell us about the celebrations, the ritual, and the role that outsiders take every fifty years?" he asks in Tian, keen to practice the language.
"I'll be fascinated to learn more about the Age of ashes as well. Are there libraries in Inahiyan that I might spend some time in?"