Drandle Dreng takes a deep breath before continuing on. One of my good friends, a merchant in the Varisian outcast’s haven known as Kaer Maga, sent me a very strange letter, which I need you to investigate. The merchant—his name is Horis Collgardie—tells me that the residents of Kaer Maga are upset about the Society’s plan to build a lodge in their city and even further upset that the agents we sent are making trouble, stirring up the delicate balance of power that exists in the so-called City of Strangers. The trouble is, not the Decemvirate or any venture-captain I can find gave the okay to build a lodge there. We know it would be folly to do so—at least right now—and so this idea that Collgardie has that the Society is there and doing just that is worrisome. I will arrange a boad for you to Korvosa, and send along a couple other Pathfinders as well. From there, book passage on a river ship for Harse, then travel overland to the road’s end at the cliffs below Kaer Maga—the so-called Twisted Door. There you must pay the Duskwardens to escort you through the Halflight Path to reach Kaer Maga. Once inside the city, find Collgardie and find out what he’s talking about. If there are Pathfinders in the city founding a lodge, tell them I order them to stop at once. If this is some kind of ruse, get to the bottom of it and do what you can to keep our Society’s good name in Kaer Maga—we may not be completely welcome there, but neither are we unwelcome. Let’s keep it that way. Feel free to stay a little while to attempt to smooth over any ruffled feathers. Any questions?
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"Outcasts' Haven? Twisted Door and Dusk Wardens? Now this sounds like my kinda research expedition."
A lanky youth slides around the doorjamb into Dreng's office. He is 5'9", thin, and very goth. His hair an almost entirely flat black, cropped close on sides and back. His skin is porcelain-pale and translucent. His eyes are black - not brown, not dark blue. Black. As are his clothes - from soft-soled shoes to starched black mandarin collar. On close inspection, the clothes are standard issue PFS trainee fare. But on him, those standard-issue pajamas (and where did he find matching black ones?) - on him, they just look good.
"What - too soon for my grand entrance? I can step back out, and wait for a cue. Would everyone be happier that way? No? Then i guess I'll stay a while." The insolent youngster leans insouciantly against the wall.
He gives a small wave and says, "Hello all, my name's Kort. They tell me I'm your new rooky."
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A dwarf and a goth pop in, and the Mwangi narrows his eyes skeptically before turning back to the Venture-Captain. "So half the challenge is getting there, and the other half is finding out what's really going on and making nice with the locals. No questions, I think I got it." Dasiji looks back at the newcomers. "Nice meeting you Kort and what's-your-name, but we need to go pay our respects to the fallen." He stands and looks at Dreng. "Three days. We'll be there." He offers an arm to the gypsy dancer and turns to go.
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Noa gives a sort of dwarf-proper bow toward Broot, and a nod at Kort, one hand on Dasiji's arm to give him pause. "I'ma stop at the clerk's, an' ge' your repor'; rea' them while we travel. You ge' mine, af'er Drangle adds his black marks. We see you in some days. You can' be no worse than Rees. We'll try to make sure you no' so goo' as Aesantiel."
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"So Kassandra, Baru - are you going along to investigate what a centaur does in the woods, or are you coming afloat?"
Looking at Venture Captain Dreng, "How long until tide tonight? There are a few important things I need to do to prepare for this adventure." Looking a little mischevious, "Can you do the thing again? with the Wayfinder? Really, please? It's amazing to watch in the Sight."
~~~
"Anyway, I'm going to stop in at the Library and see what they have to say about this Kaer Maga, and maybe see if Horis Collgardie shows up in the Chronicles anywhere. Anyone want to spend a few exciting hours among dusty tomes?"
Winking at Broot, "But I think we have time for some dinner before the tide. I know this spectacular place down near the docks." Kort takes Broot's elbow as they walk out, "If you help me knock out some research, I promise to introduce you to Tarantha - she's tall, and lanky, and may have enough beard for your tastes"
As they walk down the hall, the ring of Kort's clear voice fades. Some llight emanates from their retreating forms. A blatantly illusionary ioun stone swirls around his head, as Kort gesticulates, apparently clarifying 'the thing, with the wayfinder'.
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Dasiji accompanies Noa as she reviews the newcomers' dossiers and then goes back to the centaurs' range, a day's hike out of the city. When they approach, hooves pounding the earth, Dasiji bows. "Greetings to you Urdel Thunderhoof, and to your tribe. We bring bad news -- Aesantiel Beast Killer is dead -- and came to tell the story, so that those who knew her would remember. Noa?"
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"She was...", Noa begins, steeling herself gainst the emotion of it, "Very brave. You saw, in the tracks, I am sure, how she stood alone against the cat, defeated it before any of us could come to her... Aesantiel was brave. And she was good. When the kobold..." Noa waits a moment, to catch her composure. "She wanted mercy, for the kobold. And she called me friend. We were, shortly, it was, only days, we knew each other. I think we would have been. But when we met with the gillfolk, to make the trade, and the wizard blinded us all... The blindness, it did not slow her. The thief, with his hands on what he came to steal, she struck him down! But the other thief, she had a spear, and she killed Aesantiel, one thrust, to the heart. And that was all. Oh, we beat them. 'Siji got the spear, with his greatsword. I got the wizard. But it was too late for Aesantiel."
Noa twists a hand in a gauzy scarf at her belt, and continues, "We thought you should know. I wanted you to hate the gillfolk. But that is not Aesantiel's way, and it was not all gillfolk, who planned to steal and to kill. The wizard did that. Her name, Ulionestia. She is the one to hate, more than the hired spear that pierced Aesantiel's heart. She said, this gillwitch, she said, 'A hard lesson to have learned', about our dead elf. Ulionestia, she is the one to hate. But that would not be Aesantiel's way."
Noa takes the scarf from her belt, finding and threading her fingers through a hole in the once-fine garment, now a relic of the elf. "You deserved to know, to be told. And to have this. She wore it, at the last. This is the hole, of the spear. Put it with skull of the cat, and when you teach your youths, of the one brave elf who stood against it, you can teach of the treachery that killed her. And if you speak of the gillfolk, if you would be true to Aesantiel, I think you should not say, that the wizard was a gillfolk. But that the gillfolk, was a wizard."
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Dasiji puzzles shortly over Noa's closing riddle and nods. "Yes. Uilne- Oliun- I never really caught her name or cared to, but anyway, she was wanted by her own people for other crimes. It wasn't their fault. We just wanted you to know of Aesa's bravery, always the first one into the fray -- even when the rest of us were blind and couldn't help, and it cost her life." The burly ranger bows his head, tears running down his cheeks.
Kassandra who has been quite the whole time speaks up. Is Horis Collgardie our contact in the city?
Yes. He is an old friend of mine, though it's been a while since we have had regular correspondence together. Find him. From the letter he wrote, he should know more about what is going on. Then it will be up to you to go from there to resolve this. The Pathfinder Society's reputation in Kaer Maga is tenuous at best. Do what you can to represent us well.
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Three days later, Dasiji climbs on board the boat, as promised. Though his heart is still heavy from their loss, it was lightened by paying proper respects, and so his thoughts turn to their next job. He greets the others. "So Korvosa to Harse, and then the Twisted Door to the Halflight Path, right? Sounds like a campfire story to me."
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A warhammer falls to the deck followed by a shield shaped like a hammer itself.
"OI! There ya' be. Now that yer back we can shove off."
The dwarf stands tall as he can, stout as he can, displaying what seems to be a new tattoo across the left of his face. Falling asleep across ancient tomes in a library has left more of an impression than expected. Unbeknownst to Broot, his cheek and forehead have taken an inverse printing of whatever text got the better of his will.
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A young man wearing a loose white robe that has seen better days, it's hem dirty and worn, approaches the docks. His skin is well tanned from too much time in the desert. As Mort approaches he hears Broot his green eyes widen in a panic, and shouts "Wait!"
Mort begins a quick jog down the dock to their boat stopping next to it. his short dark brown hair is a tangled mess and there are dark bags under his eyes.
Mort hurriedly asks "This is the boat to Korvosa, right?" Without even waiting for a response he quickly rambles on, "I did not get Dreng's summons until this morning! Please tell me this is the right one and I don't have to book passage on my own..." Mort's rambling dies off as he tries to catch his breath.
When you arrive at the boat, you are greeted by the captain. A not unpleasant looking Varisian woman with a foul mouth and and an "interesting" personality. By Cayden's Codpiece! I was wonderin' when you lot would show up. Here, these arrived yesterday for you. Next time, remind your overlords that I ain't their goram delivery girl!. She hands you a stack of letters, one addressed to each of you.
Next stop, Korvosa! That is if I don't want to throw you overboard first... The long scar on her left cheek twitches with her wry smile.
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Kort finishes kicking together some planking towards the center of the deck. He gestures dramatically and a small ball of fire flies from his fingers into the pile of planks, and blossom into a hearty campfire.
"Someone ordered a campfire?" Kort inquires as he retrieves some ceramic dishes with some freshly cooked food from behind a barrel. Kort, somewhat distractedly, places them immediately next to the campfire.
"You were looking for something other than trail rations? and a campfire to tell tales around, yes? pull up a set-upon and tell us about centaurs!"
A large sailor rushes forward to dump a bucket of water on the flames. He is somewhat taken aback when the flame does not go out. Oh, a tricky boy, huh? Well starting a real fire on a boat is about the dumbest thing you can do. If you try it, I'll use your body to snuff out the flames. He walks away in a huff.
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Mortimer glances down at the water below the dock realizing where he's standing. So much water in one place, it just isn't right. He then proceeds to look anywhere but down.
"I'm Mortimer" Mort takes Noa's hand and boards the boat. Quickly relocating as far from the edge as possible almost stepping in Kort's campfire. He absentmindedly accepts the letter handed to him on the way.
Mort glances down at the fire begins to ask "Is that..." but cuts off as water splashes through it and on to his feet. "Nevermind."
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Kort eyes his soggy campfire critically. "It doesn't crackle, nor throw warmth yet. I've got some refining to do before my bonfire can blow up a lass's skirt properly!"
Turning, Kort looks at Mortimer, "Hi, I'm Kort. I thought the crew was used to me by now. I guess not." Kort shakes hands, then with his other hand, retrieves a pot pie from near the campfire. "Here, have some pie. The crust is only damp on this side. While it's still warm - the campfire may comfort, but only good comfort food will keep you warm."
Broot,
Dasiji,
Kass,
Kort,
Mort,
Noa,
The trip to Magnimar is long. The boys in the party find Captain Dow oddly attractive, but don’t act on any feelings for fear that they may come out maimed, or swimming home. Dasii, Kort, and Mort get very ill on the trip, the constant swaying of the boat is more than they can take. Broot, Kass, and Noa gain new insights into their companions as they empty buckets of puke over the side of the boat.
You disembark at Magnimar and transfer to a river boat that takes you close to the base of the Storval Rise. A tall and unscalable cliff, the Storval Rise provides significant natural southern protection for the city of Kaer Maga. The gigantic natural face in adorned with ancient carvings of strange humanoid forms and large faces. It is rumored that some of these mask passages and systems of caves yet to be explored.
As you approach the base of the Rise, a man steps out from the rocks. What business do you have in Kaer Maga?! He wears a dark, but ruggedly sturdy, overcoat and is armed with a Longbow and Longsword. You get the feeling that he is not alone.
Travelers don't come to the City of Strangers unless they have reason to, or are runnin' from somethin'.
Humph. This way. We are the Duskwardens of Kaer Maga. We will guide you up the Halflight Path, one of the few safer ways to get to the city from this direction. It will take the better part of today to get there.
He guides you over to where a small group of merchants and miscellaneous travelers have gathered, waiting to start the climb. Other Duskwardens are helping them prepare with stoic efficiency.
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" 'Siji", Noa says softly, taking a space next to the Ijo, "Ev'ry time I open one those letters, I wanna swear i's the last. I wan' you no' to worry, bu' I'm suppose' to ge' bea' up, wha' for, I don' know. Jus' to prove a poin', maybe. So I wan' you no' to worry too much, 'caus I know I woul', if i' was you."
"Oh, and don' ask nobody, but if you hear the name-", Noa whispers the word directly into Dasiji's ear, one hand hiding the shape of her lips, "-Krazel, make sure I hear it too, 'kay?"
"Wha' crasy shi' they go' you doin?"
Shortly you set of. Up, up, and up you trudge making you way slowly through the myriad stairs, tunnels, cliff-side paths, and underground ruins that make up the famous Halflight Path. The Duskwardens flank the procession, proudly wearing the badge of their membership, a golden arch on a midnight blue background. They explain that it is their duty to see you safely up the Path to Kaer Maga, hours and hours of climbing above you.
Broot,
Dasiji,
Kass,
Kort,
Mort,
Noa,
As the procession comes around a bend an enormous chunk of masonry, well constructed brickwork on the west side of the passage, collapses. From behind it boil dozens of yowling, barking, and yipping creatures carrying swords and snarling viciously—goblins! In a matter of a few quick moments, the goblins are among the merchants and citizens with the Duskwardens desperately trying to fend them off.
As you reach for your own weapons, another chunk of masonry, this
time from the ceiling, collapses and knocks you back. When you stand up you realize that you are cut you off from the rest of the traveling group, and surrounded by little green monsters with wide mouths uttering strange war cries.
Broot,
Dasiji,
Kass,
Kort,
Mort,
Noa,
Goblins Gp 1,
Goblins Gp 2,
Surprise Round
The twang of little bows is heard in the cavern as arrows fly at Broot and Dasiji.
, .
, .
, miss.
The two on the right move to engage Noa and Mort with their well-used dogsclicers.
, , .
, miss.
The last Goblin begins casting something.
Round 1
The onslaught continues.
, miss.
, , .
, miss.
, miss
, .
The spell resolves.
Broot,
Kass,
Kort,
Noa,
Noa is now Sleeping on the job for the next 10 Rounds!
Kass
Kort
Broot
Mort
Noa (Dreaming)
Dasiji
Round 1 correction: Broot and Dasiji take 1 damage, Noa takes none.