For a city founded upon bloody combat traditions, Tymon is surprisingly docile. Weapons are invariably peace-bonded, there is a lack of muscle-flexing machismo in the streets—even public disputes are scarcer than in comparably large settlements. Rule of law here is strong, perhaps, or else violent urges are simply sated vicariously through the famed Arena of Aroden. Whatever the cause, little impedes the swift journey to Smine’s Weaponworks, locally famous as a place of business but secretly also a Pathfinder lodge.
The sound of ringing steel and the withering heat of the forge through an open sliding door identify the stone structure as readily as its well painted but soot-stained sign. Several apprentices work blades in various stages of completion, and at the largest work area toils a smiling dwarf: famed weaponsmith and venture-captain Holgarin Smine. He glances up under singed eyebrows, never missing a beat as he says, “Ah. It’s you. A moment.” He waives you towards some rooms nearby, and a assistant hurries you over into a waiting room, bringing refreshments of bread and cheese to you in the much cooler waiting room. It may be a moment before the venture-captain is finished, so you might want to get acquainted with your teammates...
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Evariel strides through the streets dressed in flowing purple robes, with a wide strip of reinforced cloth down the front and back. He carries a dark wooden staff ornately engraved with runes and symbols, a gift from his tutor upon completion of his schooling. A gold ring set with a black gemstone glitters on one finger. He isn't the least bit concerned with Tymon's prohibition against carrying weapons; he hasn't the slightest interest in swinging his staff, and he carries no other weapons.
"Thank you," he says to the venture-captain as he's escorted to the side room. "Pathfinders, I assume?" he asks the others. "My name is Evariel. I'm a spellcaster, so I hope I can count on the rest of you to put that armor of yours to good use."
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Periel the Pure is a huge young man, about 6`6`` weighting around 220 Pounds. His heritage is not so obvious, as he it only shows in the golden orbs he has for eyes. He has long golden hair cut short, to better fit under a helmet.
While not in combat or working with his caravan, he is dressed in steel coloured long robes of osirian linnen over white cotton trousers and tunic.
In battle he dresses in leather clothes dyed white steel and red under his half-plate.
His trusted Katana of adamantium called Divine Justice is always with him.
If in thoughts he often absentmindly strokes his holy amulet.
Smilingly he bows to the group and offers his greetings.
"Well met, I am Periel. At your service!"
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Matsu Anfial is a rather average sized young man with a small frame, hiding his strong muscles. He has white skin and very long hair in the colour of freshly fallen snow, and usually wears blue kimonos and a white obi.
This gives him a very androgynous look.
In battle he wears a full plate armor stylished a Tian-Xa style, completed by a fearsome halfmask, showing a raging demon.
His voice is a very deep, yet smooth pearly tone.
He will only in the most dire instances leave his trusted Katana and rarely does his hand not touch it. Often just absentmindly stroking the hilt.
He leans over to Periel and whisper something in his ear. The Paladin bows and leaves. Matsu smiles to the gathered and speaks up in his pearly tone."Periel has been assigned to another mission. I will take his place!"
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A blond halfling child, dressed in rags, slinks along with the crowd, cuddling a small black cat with grey stripes, who, like the child, looks half-starved. While the boy moves along, he does seem to be quite skillful at avoiding being stepped on or tripped over by bigfolk, maneuvering through the throng quite adeptly. Loping along at the child's side is a large dog on a rope leash.
"Hi... I'm Bait.. 'n this is Buddy." He indicates the large slobbering St. Bernard at his side, much bigger than he is... Riding on the dog's back is a black cat with gray stripes, violet eyes, and an unusual white blaze on its chest. "'n that's Cinder."
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"So, this is the place. I've seen worse." comes a coarse voice from the doorway as a slender, raven haired half elf walks into the room. The door closes behind him, seemingly of its own accord as he quickly makes for the breads and cheeses.
The man is dressed from head to toe in black, which matches his hair almost as perfectly as it contrasts against his incredibly pallid skin. He wears several pouches on his person, with no visible weapons of any kind.
Stuffing his mouth full of both bread and cheese, he finally turns back to the group as if only now noticing them and begins to chew and talk at the same time, "mow wat haf we hewe?" he mumbles, spewing bits of food with each attempted word.
Realizing he is unintelligible, he rolls his eyes and holds up a hand as he chews loudly and swallows even louder. He quickly grabs for a skin of water from around his waist, which seemed to appear from nowhere, and gulps a few swallows down before finally lowering his hand and continuing to speak, "Now what have we here?"
His mouth turns into a sneer he looks up and down at those present, nodding all along, "Gods, but this is a strange group. Eh, I guess they all are really, but this is stranger than most. Can't say I'm too keen on the location for this meet either, but I'll make do. While we wait, does anyone fancy a game of dice? Low stakes to start, but they raise every round. Whaddya say?" and dice seem to materialize in his hand as he holds them up for the room to see. His sneer turns to a grin, much like that of a shark that smells fresh blood.
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Bait walks up to Matsu and stands next to him while regarding Fade. "look! Cinder is a kitty again!" He points to his cat, which is sitting upright on the dog's back, then jumps down and walks over, rubbing against Matsu's leg in recognition. Bait whispers conspiratorially "She's not really a cat." which earns him a sour look from Cinder.
While Cinder is busy rubbing in Matsu, showing her approval of him, Bait walks over to Fade. He tugs on his pant leg and looks up at him, and asks him directly, "Are you a vampire?"
The gruff dwarf soon joins the team in the smaller room.
“Forgive me for not asking about your journey. Love the details, but those can wait. Someone’s picking a fight—with us,” he divulges in broken sentences reminiscent of the staccato clanging of the adjacent forge.
“You might know we’re committed to supporting Mendev. Important business, that. Worldwound expanding, wardstones failing. Not good for anyone. So when we send supplies north and they’re stolen, it gets our attention. And that’s been happening. Months now. Boat after boat heading up the Sellen, attacked, looted—always a few days out of Tymon. Now, River Kingdoms shipping isn’t always chancy; brigands on the water are nothing new. Not like this, though. And it isn’t all shipping. Just ours. Someone is targeting us.
He takes a long swig of water from a pitcher nearby and continues.
“It’s my job to get to the bottom of this, and I have a notion how. Been told you lot were just what I needed. So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re not just going to find these pirates; we’re going to flush ’em out. They want to hit Pathfinders? Pathfinders can hit, too. They’ll think they’ve got another soft supply boat, but the cargo will be you. Ready to fight.”
He grins before concluding, “You’re bait. But you’re bait that bites back.”
for over 2,000 years.
has wronged him to arena combat. This carries across social ranks; if challenged by a commoner, even one of the “bloodied” must submit. Even the Champion’s position is not secure; through the Law of Succession, any “bloodied” can challenge him for leadership.
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Bait grins. "I saw what you did there." He does a little checking around for more info.
"Tymon is all about combat and fighting for rights and privileges... Ten wins in an arena get you rights to carry weapons and own land, be heard in court. Their ruler earns that right through combat too. Anyone can challenge to arena combat though, regardless of rank, and anyone who has those ten wins can challenge the ruler for position."
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Fade crouches down to scratch behind the ears of Cinder the cat, a rare and genuine smile creasing his face. Without even looking at Bait he replies, "Not a vampire, kid. But I do work a lot at night."
After hearing the mission...
"Alrighty then! This actually sounds fun. About time someone took the gloves off in this group." Fade says with a wicked grin.
"I suppose we should try and keep one or two of these pirates you mentioned alive, so we can find out who is pulling the strings behind all of this. It's never just the hired help." he sighs aloud.
With a quizzical look crossing his face, he asks, "So when do we leave and what's the name of the sucke... err... captain of the boat you got us leaving on? Do they know what's up or are they going to be getting a surprise when things start to go down? It doesn't matter much to me either way, but it could help to know if they are going to panic or not."
The venture captain takes another gulp of water, wiping sweat from his forehead.
I’m hiring a captain who will be okay with it. Get word to you shortly on which. Know a few boat-owners who’ll go along for the right price. You’ll have a pilot to sail it; you just need to fight. I’ve also put out word there’s a major shipment headed upriver. Should get their attention. You can help with that too. Make yourselves look soft. Hit the taverns. Look like landlubbers. Probably are, anyway, so it shouldn’t be difficult. Drink hard, and look like you’re shipping out hung-over. Spread a good cover story. Make them overconfident.”
He takes a drink again and leans back against the wall.
As for taking them alive, it's up to you. Mind you, capture ‘em and bring ‘em back, they’ll probably wind up naked in the area, so your call if that’s mercy. Still, might want to grab some for questioning.
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"Well that seems pretty watertight then. Guess I'll be the first to volunteer for the drinking around town portion of this mission. Who's joining me? Never mind answering, just follow me!" Fade says as he starts to head out, looking to tie one on... err... looking to look like he's tying one on.
He tosses the VC a two fingered salute and a lopsided grin just before he walks out the door, quickly heading to the nearest tavern.
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"They said look soft, so don't take it personal if I act all soft with you. Ugh... the things I do for this group." Fade says over his shoulder, never looking down to the hafling.
Despite his gruff behavior, he does reach down on occasion to scratch behind Buddy's or Cinder's ears, with only a flash of a grin if they seem to enjoy it.
"They hungry?" he says off handedly to Bait. Before Bait can offer a reply, Fade says, "I'll buy them a good meal at the tavern."
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"Buddy's always hungry. Cinder's picky about what she eats. Thanks though, I'm sure they'll like it... Meat, veggies and bread for Buddy would be fine, cream or milk for Cinder."
Cinder head-bumps Fade's hand when he scratches her ears... tilts her head so he scratches right where she wants him to with a little "Mew". Buddy just rolls his eyes up at Fade with a grateful glance, his eyebrows waggling appreciatively, tail wagging happily.
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Evariel makes a face. "Must we drink at all? I dislike how it dulls the faculties. And I need mine." In the tavern, he orders a single glass of elvish wine and nurses it as long as he's able.
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Fade gets loud and obnoxious at the tavern, or really just a bit more than his normal personality.
He drinks fairly heavy, and challenges a few people to arm wrestling, which he fails loudly. He pays his lost wagers with a frown, and promptly...
... retrieves his losses and then some.
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Hm. I can't play drunk with one drink, but perhaps I could play incompetent. Evariel pulls out his spellbook and turns to the page detailing a minor levitation spell. He then pulls out a gold piece and sets it on the table next to him. "Let's see if I can do it this time." He makes a show of studying the page intently, then deliberately performs the gesture wrong. Visibly frustrated, he tries again. The spell requires so little magic that Evariel had mastered its use long ago, but he tries to make himself look like the lowliest of acolytes, unable to perform even basic cantrips.
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"Don worry tall, pasty and pathetic. Not evey one is cut out for the magicky thing." Fade says to Evariel, exaggerating his level of intoxication.
"Some ovus just have t'live with what we're dealt. You could always go back to the enclave and be come a master at KNITTING! Lots o'people in Mendev'll need warm blankys come winter." *hic*
The team spends the night, some carousing, some "Studying", and others laying low. Eventually, the pathfinders reach their quarters for bed and sleep. The next morning, they receive a missive to attend Dock 5. As they arrive, they find their boat, the Tevryn's Terrapin, a Modified Barge.
It's captain, is a thickset Taldan women, approaching middle age. She waits on the gangplank for the pathfinders, looking almost motherly.
Morning folks. Was told that you would be riding my boat today, that correct?
She gives a wink and pats her side to the jangle of a heavy purse... apparently, she insisted in being paid in advance.
Talked with Smine. Good what you folks are doing... My name is Demeliah Sorhenson. Lost my Tevryn a few years back to pirates... can't swing a sword myself, but if getting you in the right place does the trick, I'll happily go.
She steps up onto her boat and waves the pathfinders on.
Welp, come aboard... we have water to cover.
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Doing his best to appear blear eyed and hung over, the half-elf walks with a slight drift and holds his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes for greater effect.
Damn glad I can hold my drink. Wouldn’t want to really be knackered on the water... not when dealing with pirates. Gods but that last pirate I met was an evil bastard, even by my standards.
Fade seems lost in thought as everyone gathers on the Terrapin. Despite his apparent distraction, he keeps his sharp eyes and ears focused on the task at hand, scanning the dock and the shore as they leave and the waters behind and in front as they travel for any signs of trouble.
”Blargh! Too much drink last night. Don’t mind me, but I’m just going to be over here where it’s quiet.”
He looks for the highest point on the barge to gain a better view, quickly taking to any crows nest if there is one, and if not, just wherever he can see fore and aft with just a swivel of his head.
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"Indeed!" Evariel climbs aboard, staff in hand and book safely in his pack. No need to pretend any longer, he thinks. A wizard is his magic, and no more. "I think we'll get some bites today."
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The first day of travel proves uneventful as Tevryn’s Terrapin meanders upriver. Everyone settles into a bit of a routine. On the second day The droning of frogs, insects, and birds along the riverbanks creates an atmosphere fit for dozing, even though the sun is barely past noon. Directly ahead, the river twists to the east for a bit before rounding a forested hummock. A splash breaks the monotony of sound as something slides off the marshy banks and into the water.
Fade's keen eyes make it out easily enough. A alligator of all things, not exactly common, seems to be making it's way quickly upstream and making it's way to round a bend in the stream.
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"That's odd," Evariel comments mildly. "Alligators prefer swamps and stagnant waters. This one looks awfully out of place. I would guess that ambush we're expecting will not be long in coming. Make whatever preparations you need."
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Fade gathers swirling energies around him, causing quite the display as loose nails, splinters of wood, unsecured ropes and many more small things rise into the air, caught in the wake of his aether. The barge itself seems to groan in protest as the aether thickens.
"Consider me prepared! Ha!" Fade says with a loud laugh.
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In bright glow of radiating rays of light and with a chord hanging in the air like the plucking of an angelic harp, Bait rises up off the barge by a few feet, and spins quickly in the air. Suddenly there's a corruscating rainbow flash and the form that lowers to the dock in Bait's place is totally different from the halfling 'child' that had stood there a moment ago. image
"Behold, I'm the evil twin... you may call me 'The Eclipse'!"
Cinder jumps up on his shoulders, purring loudly, her fur standing out in all directions, perhaps a result of Bait's transformation, or perhaps because of Fade gathering power. She kneeds on his shoulder contentedly.
"Gah.... not another jacket, Cinder! You're going right through the material! Ow!"
He then casts shield on himself.
As the barge moves forward, another small ship appears from the other side of the bend, filled to the brim with well armed sailors, about 7 in total. They watch the ship like prey as they begin to close in, hooting and hollering about "Lay down your arms!" "Make this easy for yourselves!" and such. The stream allows them to close in rapidly, though you still have some time...