"Hey Valeros, what is your favorite song? I will sing it for you!"
"I'm partial to 'Five Swordlords and a Spoon' - do you know it?"
Well...I'm sure you can be an adequate....training partner, I tend to stick to the softer type...no offense. Merisiel says with a grin.
"*Sigh*... understandable... soft appears to be in demand these days..."
Valeros burps loudly. "Ok Meri. Switching to wine now. Gotta take a slash first. Save my seat."
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"I'm partial to 'Five Swordlords and a Spoon' - do you know it?"
The bard smiles, "Is that a variant to 'Seven Swordlords and a Spoon'? I don't think i've heard that one before, but i could probably guess as to the lyrics...Ahem." The bard does not have any musical instruments on him, but he begins to sing a pleasant tune.
'T'was five Aldori Swordlords and their spoon eating supper round a fire,
They lost their rations in battle 'at day, their situation rather dire,
One made some soup from mushrooms and glooms, they knew they had to share it,
With only one spoon between the men, all they could do is smell it.
Five Aldori Swordlords and their spoon went marching through the swamp,
To defeat the mightly dragon who farts methane and could chomp,
The dragon farted and laughed, their swords and armor melted away, only one spoon was left to save them,
They raised the spoon which reflected the gas, and now the Swordlords have some scales.'
He does a quick bow, humming the tune insistently, maybe mixing a few other verses as they go.
Doing the peepee dance, Valeros manages to smile and say, "Yeah.. yeah that's the one. Well done bard, well done. Next one's on me after I come back ok? Meri... can you unbuckle that annoying codpiece... the strap's in the back... yes, same place as before. I lost the fancy Belt of Giant Strength last year..."
Fine...just quit squirming about... the rogue says as she helps the poor defenseless warrior out with his strap.
So...we are to ho this way? she says, pointing to the edge of the meadow.
None of you can see what Merisiel is pointing at. The meadow ends in a steep cliff rising up.
Fethril can tell there is a moderate-strength aura everywhere.
However, he cannot identify the school of magic.
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Deluge is a portly bald man leading a pack goat by a rope. He seems a bit grumpy and tired and answers any questions in a monosyllabic grunt. During your trip he has had to make frequent trips to answer nature's call which has made him especially grumpy. One might wonder if it has to do with the foul smelling concoction he likes to swig.
It does look like his color has begun to return to him though, and he is starting to eye a bulging pouch at his side. for the first time in over a day, he speaks a full sentence.
"Hmph. Magical meadow. How nice."
Well nearly full.
Perfect place to take a crap. Maybe the leaves are nice and soft. Running out of toilet paper sucks when you have the runs.
Although it appears that this alpine meadow leads to a dead end, it actually continues on to a valley.
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"Thank you Vel, i'm glad someone here enjoys my talents. It is going to be a good change of pace."
"Step back Fethril, let the experts handle this. Your tall elven legs must be tired from all the walking." He detects magic.
The bard gets really distracted with the song, he begins coming up with more lyrics rather than focusing on the magical auras.
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Deluge squints as he stares at the meadow.
"Did anyone else notice that the leaves on that cliff are not blowing with the wind? Something looks off to me. Might be the illusory barrier mentioned in the briefing."
Speaking of wind, Deluge makes a windy sound and panic crosses his face as he heads for somewhere out of sight and full of magic leaves.
With Deluge pointing out the nature of the illusion, the party is able to see that as well.
With its illusory nature clear, much of the plant life gradually fades into transparent shadows, and the cliffs at the far end of the vale part to reveal a much larger valley beyond. In the distance, a large wall encircles a humble town of stone structures. An immense castle built of bronze bricks towers over the settlement from its perch just above the base of a nearby mountain.
As you approach the main gate, two Ifrit guards call out.
"I can't speak your language so I'm gonna say this in Common. You should be able to understand this yes? A team of Pathfinders came through here recently. Since then we have not heard from them, and we're here to bring them back home. We'd rather do this the nice way, gentlemen. We'd like to be let into your city so we can look for them. If it becomes obvious they're nowhere to be found, we'll talk again, as we could need your help and may need to speak to your leader. We'll cross that bridge when we get there though... for all we know they could be drunk at one of inns somewhere in your city, which would mean this would be a simple internal disciplinary matter for us. Oh, and by the way, if we also disappear, Absalom will keep sending agents here, and the next ones will be armed for war I'm afraid."
Valeros sees Deluge fall back. Good. The candleheads will think I mean business.
Anyone know what they said?
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The guards try again in another language that nobody understands.
Finally they resort to Common, a great deal of anger and frustration evident in their voice.
"Are you threatening us, human?
We do not fear your or your little gang.
Nor do we believe that an 'Absalom', whatever it is, can send an army that could possibly defeat Tygora Cinderfury."
They do indeed seem to take Valeros's words as a barely-veiled threat.
"The 'nice way' begins with one of you apologizing for the dumb human's threats. Unless he is your leader in which case he must apologize. You will respect the curfew, and find proper lodgings rather than sleep in the street like vagrants. You will avoid causing trouble but you can look for your lost drunkard friends.
The alternative is that we do not open the gates."
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"Good enough," the guards say. They open the gates.
To Valeros, they growl, "We'll be watching you."
The town bears evidence of being rebuilt after massive destruction. There are very old buildings with signs of ancient damage, and newer buildings that have a patchwork nature, as if built from the scavenged rubble of many others.
You enter into a large plaza, dominated by a towering crystalline monument. Oreads walk quietly through the streets, going about their work. They glance at you briefly, then back down at the ground.
As you walk past the crystal monument, one Oread approaches you more directly. The Ifrit guards on the gate give a glance, but do not seem overly interested.
The Oread is older, with hair-thin cracks on his skin like spiderwebs. He speaks a heavily accented version of Common. "Greetings outlanders. I am Eurdan Stonemantle. Councilor of Crystalcrag. You will come with me to Council House to talk?"
"Watching me? I wouldn't expect less from any well-trained guards who hold their duty above all else!" answers Valeros to the guards and ignoring the remark of He-Who-Breaks-Wind. "Please forgive me, as I meant no insult. The Pathfinder Society does hold the safety of its members in high regard. Any help and cooperation you can manage to afford would be greatly appreciated, officers."
Valeros then shuts up but holds the guards' stare as long as they pass through the gate, willing to impart that he was serious about the Grand Lodge sending waves of agents crashing at their gates if any trouble happens to them.
Good. I'm their target now, as it should. The squishies won't be hit first if these candleheads decide to take action against our group.
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"Yes, Wise One. We would be honored to come with you."
VAleros throws his backpack over his shoulders and follows the man, nodding for his Pathfinder colleagues to follow.
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Valeros can hear the guards talking to each other and snickering.
"Hey, you hear that? This 'Pathfinder' gang is a 'Society'!"
"Ooh, fancy. What do they do, have afternoon tea? Secret handshakes? Philosophy discussions?"
It seems that you are in a place where few have even heard of Absalom, the Pathfinder Society, or the Grand Lodge.
I can think of one hand sign to show him at the moment, but I'll keep it to myself lest Tootmeister here blows up his lower colon.
Yes, we'll follow. I'll make sure this one is on a tight leash.. Merisiel says, playfully smacking Valeros on the shoulder.
And yes, we are a gang...of good people. We do have amazing tea parties before we sacrifice the babies to our gods... she says to the guards over her shoulder as they pass.
The look on Valeros' face is a mix of 'hopeful child' and 'frustrated nun.'
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Deluge nods at the ancient Oread's invitation, but does a face palm in mid nod when Merisiel mentions child sacrifices.
Idiots. I have a 25% chance of surviving this. Why, oh why, can't they just put me on kitchen duty! Probably because of last time and then there is because because that obsessive druid council makes me volunteer for the dangerous missions.
Feeling a little better in spite of the cynicism, Deluge absent mindedly reaches into his snack bag and grabs a dried squid and starts munching.
"Wanderin's my game Rob's Son. Is this your first mission? How many missions have you ended without a fight in your career so far? From what I hear that's what you're good at..."
The old Oread leads you to a building whose exterior bears a weathered inscription in Terran. "This says 'Council House.'" He sighs. "It would be better if you could speak our language. My people have some knowledge of the human tongue."
Once inside, he begins to speak at length.
"You were not the first foreigners to reach Crystalcrag. Three humans came to our town a few weeks ago. They wore strange compass badges with an emblem of a road.
They asked many questions, and spoke to us about the outside world, about other Oreads, about other nations. About other systems of government. About potential allies. They became something of a rallying point for our people seeking changes here.
I believe they are now the 'guests' of Tygora Cinderfury, our Efreeti ruler. My fellow councilor Glaheri vanished soon after they did. Our third councilor, Koriath, had disappeared about a year ago after trying to win concessions from Tygora. I am the only one left."
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"Sounds like this counseling thing is a dangerous business. Ideas have always been unwelcome by tyrants, and I expect this Tygora is a tyrant. Dang. Too bad they couldn't just be sleeping of a very long drunk, because that does sound like our missing Pathfinders."
As he speaks he takes a swig of his own alcoholic beverage of choice. Probably a subconscious thing going on there.
"I don't suppose we could just talk this Tygora fellow into just letting them go? Preferably over a nice meal with strong drink! I know that mellows ME out."
"Councillor, how do you suggest we approach Tygora? surely her force is too vast for us to defeat yes? is there a way to access the dungeons directly? Sigh... if it comes to that, we may need to battle this Tygora... do you believe her people - the Ifrits yes? - would then agree to a peace with your folks in the aftermath of her defeat?"
Eurdan Stonemantle sighs.
To Deluge, he responds, "It isn't supposed to be dangerous. We Councilors are symbolic leaders of the Oread community, but we have no real power. At least for the centuries that Tygora has ruled here. We are just respected elders.
What would you offer Tygora? I can tell you that she does not like to be challenged or questioned, even respectfully."
To Valeros, he responds, "You... you do not understand. The Ifrit are our kin. The volcanic activity in the region, the effects of Tygora's influence... over the past few generations, some Oreads have given birth to Ifrit children. I think one of your Pathfinder colleagues said, with amazement, that we 'do not breed true.' It sounded like an insult but he swore it was not.
Tygora takes the Ifrit youths under her wing, giving them secret instruction and special privileges to secure their loyalty. We have voiced our concerns about our society being split, and some of our children being placed above others, but that leads only to harsher measures by Tygora.
Tygora protected our village, granting our Wish to rebuild and hide Crystalcrag after the volcanic eruptions nearly a thousand years ago. She has great power, and Fury's Hold has many guards - guards who are, as I said, our own kin."
Well, we'll just have to try the diplomatic route. Hang on...you said that oreads were giving birth to ifrits? I'm no scholar...but does that not sound odd to you? Again, o offense, but if elves have children, they are elves....interesting...
"We are not Elves," the Oread says simply.
"What do you suggest? we need to get our fellow Pathfinders out of here. We do not wish to interfere in your politics, but we'll gladly lend a hand if you feel oppressed."
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Oh James. Did you not hear, or do you simply not comprehend? Fethril clears his throat, "You must have skipped something. You say our people were 'here', then they somehow rallied your people, and now they 'guests'. Did they go to meet with Tygora? Would she ask outsiders to join her? Are they taken prisoner? Have they been charged with a crime?" He offers no sympathy for, or reference to, the missing members of the oread council.
James stands in the back and listens to the others speak. When there is a pause he then speaks up, "You said Tygora has ruled for centuries, took your children under her wing and that she granted your Wish. What is Tygora?"
"...I believe they are now the 'guests' of Tygora Cinderfury, our Efreeti ruler..."
"She is an Efreeti. Not a genie-kin such as an Ifrit, but one of the true genies."
"What do you suggest? we need to get our fellow Pathfinders out of here. We do not wish to interfere in your politics, but we'll gladly lend a hand if you feel oppressed."
"Well, 'oppressed' is such a strong word. We Oreads do not like to complain, or to cause trouble or disorder. We wish to work hard and be treated fairly. Even my speaking with you may cause more... trouble.
We are a peaceful race. Though Tygora’s rule is harsh, many of the people here have found it somewhat of a give-and-take. Tygora gives the people complete invisibility from the surrounding settlements in exchange for completing any demands she may have requested.""You must have skipped something. You say our people were 'here', then they somehow rallied your people, and now they 'guests'. Did they go to meet with Tygora? Would she ask outsiders to join her? Are they taken prisoner? Have they been charged with a crime?"
"They were here in town, having many conversations with our people, and then they were no longer seen around town. I heard that they were spotted going into Fury's Hold, but I do not know the details. I would presume they are prisoners. As to 'charged with a crime,' that is a process for other nations with different systems of justice. Here there is just the will of Tygora Cinderfury."