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The town curves along the shoreline of Motaku Isle, spreading across ridges to a few small islands sitting in the deep-blue bay. Small, well-made wooden buildings ring the harbor. Festive flower and palm-frond garlands hang from various buildings, bridges, and statues. Vessels of varying shapes and sizes jam nearly all the town’s long piers, and the great number of ocean-going ships lying at anchor render the outer harbor nearly impassible. Throngs of revelers, many wearing masks, carouse through the town while singing and drinking from frothing tankards.
This is the town of Lilycove. You see it from the bows of "The True North" the Pathfinder ship you've taken passage on. You're each a member of the Pathfinder Society, a oddball bunch of ragtag researchers... "Researchers" being a loose term. Some call you graverobbers. You have your own reasons for taking up the wayfinder, but you have to admit this may be one of the better assignments. You have been instructed to go to Lilycove and record the events of the Rum Punch Festival, a massive festival of dedication to Cayden Cailean. There is no rush to return home, and a long leash to "Record, Report, and Cooperate" with your field team as you see fit.
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Aaah, what a splendorous trip. Nothing wrong with the sea when on a well fit ship. Please watch your step for my little Compsognathus there. He leans down to call for it. Come on, about time to land, let us get you back safely in your satchel.Picking up the tiny dinosaur and giving it one last good look out at the harbor before stashing it away, Socraties follows up addressing his companions.Is everyone ready for a celebration? Lilycove seems to be a gorgeous town to spend some time in and Caileanites always throw great parties. The Trade Prince recommended this trip to me, so hopefully we can find some along the way too. You lads and lassies want some candy before we land? He says reaching into his belt pouch and pulling out a few brown oval shaped items about the size of a gold piece, sticking one in his mouth and offering the rest to the others. I make them myself.
"It's such a shame the society couldn't get dibs on that trip to the newly discovered Azlanti ruins. Valsin must be loosing his touch, or else the decemvirate is finally tired of his sour attitude. Ha! Fat chance probably, right Patzmiqui?"
A skinny young man, not tall enough to see over any heads in a crowded street, peers into the celebratory crowds.
"I think you are going to cause a stir my friend. You got fat on that boat trip..." Coatl looks over at his longtime traveling companion.
Patzmiqui, the jungle boa, sits in a coiled shape with Coatl in the center, leaning against the stacked rings of the long snake's body. The snake is easily all of twenty feet long. At first glance, it doesn't appear that he is moving at all, until one looks closer. The coils slowly creep and move on each other, as Patzmiqui tightens the ring around his druidic companion.
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"Um, Snake Guy? Are you bringing that... thing on the boat? Because I mean, giant snakes are usually things we have to kill or get killed by and I don't really want to wake up half-eaten by your friend there, if you understand what I mean." the timid looking man sighs. "Did you know that 47% of all Pathfinder agents die to natural causes? I mean, if you consider falling and disease and wild animals and being slowly devoured over the course of 17 years by a thing with a mouth like a pit? Statistically speaking, we're likely to die on this trip. And dying? Not fun. It's actually a lot of bureaucracy. A LOT." He sighs. "I'm Wenton. It'll be nice dying with you."
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Setare seems to be quite nervous and looks around. She is a scrawny girl with auburn hair and amber eyes.
Her features seem Chelaxian but also have something else mixed in.
She is wearing a brown adventuring outfit, a light mithral chain shirt, has Plume on her head and carries a Silver Scimitar at her hip that is attached to her wrist with a very fine chain.
"Hel ... Hello ... everybody ... " Setare says with a quivering voice and looks at the group.
Then she focuses on Wenton, Coatl and Socraties as well as their reptile companions.
"Sirs ... you know ... ehh ... you know Sir ... I have the feeling that I have heard of you Mrs. Coatl, Mr. Wenton and Mr. Socraties Sir ... but who told me about you ... everything is so fuzzy ..." she says and looks down at the floor.
She takes a look at the weapons of these strong Pathfinders and then observes her own little Scimitar.
She looks at them again "Ehhh ... it is ... you know ... it is nice meeting you." and then looks away.
The galleon, with its sails drawn, bobbed lazily before the mass of shipwrecks before them. A small skiff approached the side, towards the rope ladder dressing the side. As the pilot climbed aboard, Ortun burned with a ferocious fire. The captain by his side seethed with his own anger.
The pilot approached the brewing storm unawares until Ortun unleashed all his pent up anger. ""
The captain placed a restraining hand on Ortun's shoulder as the Undine threw it off.
Glancing nervously around him, the pilot looked for back up. Seeing the crew approach to support him embolden the pilot. He responded confidently to the Undine helmsman. "Absalom law. None sail into the harbor without a pilot. I care not for your skill ..." the crew and captain winces as the unsuspecting pilot inadvertently offended the helmsman.
"". Hefting the bag over his shoulder, the undine sprinted to the rail and gracefully leaped over and dove into the water without a splash. The crew, captain, and pilot ran to the rail to see the helmsman fate. He never reemerged.
A hour later, a dripping wet undine helmsman strode up to the Grand Lodge hefting a large, wet sack. Here is where my adventure begins he thought.
Running his hand along the smooth wood of the helm-wheel, Ortun could not help but smile. The True North was a well build ship, quick to turn, and light on the swells. He would miss it,
Following the crew down the gangplank, the sights and sounds of Lilycove mirrored many ports of call Ortun had visited except for the strong smell of alcoholic brew.
"Rum Punch Festival! This sounds like fun. No candy for me friend. At least not yet. Do you have anything to cure a hangover because I think there is a 100% chance of that, right Wenton! Ha!" he tells
Ortun gives Coatl and that predator Patzmiqui a brooding look. "Coatl, I have said it more than once on the voyage, keep that slithering tube away from my Mishell." Ortun protectively pets his snapping turtle's shell.
"Have anyone of you ever been to one of these before?" the large undine asks as he steers Setare' Katsu towards the nearest revilers. "Come, this will be the adventure of a lifetime."
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Socraties receives a missive from the Pathfinder Society asking him to go investigate the Rum Punch Festival with a group of fellow Pathfinders and to "Record, Report, and Cooperate".
He immediately realizes with a name like that it will likely be filled with drunks and decides the best way to make friends with drunks is to promise, and successfully, take away their hangover for them. Just to figure out how many hangovers he needs to be prepared to get rid of.
It would seem quite a few doses might be best, especially not knowing the habits of whatever comrades I will have, Socraties thinks. So he collects up enough supplies that between before leaving and the boat trip to Lilycove he can make a clean 30 doses of alchemist's kindness (10gp).
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Jack is a powerful looking half-orc of short stature. He wears a breastplate and has a cutlass strapped at his waist. You can see several tattooed tentacles snake their way up his neck and curve across his face onto his cheeks and forehead. A holy symbol featuring a skull and crossbones hangs about his neck. Anyone who knows what it is can probably guess he probably keeps it hidden in more law-abiding parts of the world, but in the shackles he can allow his devotion to Besmara, god of Pirates and Sea Monsters be openly known.
Hahaha! Best assignment I've ever been given! The lodge has kept me for too long on the land in the so-called 'civilized' parts of the world. Good to be back home in the Shackles! Stick with Captain Jack and you'll make it through the festival just fine!
Jack surveys the room, listening to his companion's own introductions.
You, the sniveling one! Best steel your heart. A giant tame snake is the least of the horrors you'll see in the shackles. Have you ever heard of the Master of Gales? One o' the most powerful free Captains - keeps a Kraken for a pet! Now he's someone to be scared of! But fear not Wenton, Captain Jack will see his whole crew through this mission!
Adressing the undine,
Best cure for a hangover is a little hair of the dog!
With that Jack pulls a flask from his pocket and takes a long swig before letting our a hearty laugh.
Hahahaha! Now which way to the rum!?
Socrates knows that the Rum Punch Festival is an annual religious festival that lasts all day to celebrate a slave escape at Crown's edge. The slavers found that their rum was mysteriously potent, causing them to pass out with their key rings within reach of the slaves. As they escaped, 5 small seabirds flew by, leading the now escaped slaves to a beached ship that they used to escape to the shackles.
As a celebration to Cayden, it's considered bad form to become so drunk as to be unable to control yourself, so it is rare to find someone passed out, but so long as excess is avoided, the rum will flow, and the first drink is always free in every tavern on Rum Punch.
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Nice to finally meet everyone, sorry for being so solitary on the trip I was working on something, actually exactly what you asked about Ortun, a remedy for hangovers. Now I only have a few doses
so don't be thinking you can always be crazy, but for a festival like this, have your fun. Oh and Jack, I don't think your remedy exactly works, you are just putting off the hangover, believe me I have tried that one a few times in my years.
It would seem we have 2 humans, a half-orc, an undine, an ifrit, I don't know if you were hiding it dearie, but it is the eyes that give it away, though you probably blend in the most of any geniekin I have ever seen, a snake, an eidolen, a snapping turtle, a compsognathus, and myself an elf as part of our team, and everyone seems to represent a rather unique set of skills, good, this should go well.
Wenton, you are afraid and that is understandable, but with this group I think we stand a pretty good chance of not dying young lad. You and Setare really should take a candy, they always help calm my nerves. Jack may sound scary, but he means well, I think.
Coatl, you heard about the Azlanti ruin trip? I wanted in on that one too, my sources said they DID get to send someone on out there, but alas it was not us. When I complained to the Trade Prince, he promised me there would be great opportunities on this adventure too, though I don't yet see how attending a drunken part equates to that, we will have to see.
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"Have anyone of you ever been to one of these before?" the large undine asks as he steers Setare' Katsu towards the nearest revilers. "Come, this will be the adventure of a lifetime."
Setare is a little insecure but she follows ...
"Ehh ... yes, I ... I just want to say how ... you know ... how honored I am that you are ... you are taking me along with you ..." she says with a silent voice.
It would seem we have 2 humans, a half-orc, an undine, an ifrit, I don't know if you were hiding it dearie, but it is the eyes that give it away, though you probably blend in the most of any geniekin I have ever seen, a snake, an eidolen, a snapping turtle, a compsognathus, and myself an elf as part of our team, and everyone seems to represent a rather unique set of skills, good, this should go well."
"You ... you have really go ... good eyes! Ye .. yes, my father was a Ha ... Halfling and my mo ... mother was an Ifrit. Most people ... and ... I ... I myself don't really notice." she says shyly.
Ortun cannot help but smile at his new friends. "Hair of the dog, you say, Jack? I might just stick with these little candies." he says as he plops one into his mouth. "Many thanks Socraties. I hope this works. If not we might just need to push on through, like Jack suggested."
The large undine moves to the bar and and grabs a round of free drinks. He passes on out to each of his new friends. Raising the glass he toasts, "To Cooperate, Explore, Report, and Drink!" Clinking the glass he downs most of the mug with a large pull.
"So, who's buying the next round?" he beams as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
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Oh me and my confusing speeches again. I apologize friend, it is not the candies that cure a hangover, though they are tasty and usually calm the nerves.
He reaches back to his backpack and effortlessly pulls out a small packet of powder from one of the side pockets.
It is this little concoction, when you wake up with a hangover, just mix this with some water, drink it, and within 10 minutes you will feel fresh as newborn babe.
He stuffs the packaged powder back in his bag.
I'll hold onto them though, they aren't free ya know, but these candies are, I just use the extra's from my other concoctions, I call them Withers, because the more old and withered someone is the more they seem to like them. He winks as he says this, giving way that he knows full well he just insulted himself.
Coatl fingers his wayfinder, listening closely to his companions talk. When it looks like they are about to get moving, he slides the delicate instrument underneath his tunic. His wild hair acts like a sail in the stiff breeze coming off of the water, but it seems the skinny druid doesn't even notice.
"... I don't really want to wake up half-eaten by your friend there, if you understand what I mean."
Coatl locks eyes with Wenton and drops a hand absentmindedly on the moving snake. "Scaredy-man not need to worry about waking up half-eaten by Patzmiqui." he says, pushing his way out of the coils of the massive snake. Patzmiqui relents easily, allowing him to pass. "If Patzmiqui decide eat you, you won't wake up." he smiles a perfectly mischievous smile, his arm now draped over Wentons shoulder and walking in lockstep with the timid man. The pause is long and uncomfortable.
"No worry at all though! Patzmiqui eat last month. He good for a few more weeks at least." Coatl flashes some gnarly teeth that seem to fit right in with his tribal facial markings, which likely does nothing to set the worried man's mind at ease.
"Coatl did hear about trip, Candy-man." The druid abruptly leaves Wenton to consider the differences between being digested awake or asleep and waltzes over to the elf. "I was following pathfinder woman. She came to my jungle to find secret powers. Luna was her name. This her shiney neck charm, she lost when she accidentally woke up lizard-spawn in village temple and ran away. Coatl and Patzmiqui wanted to return shiney neck charm and special pathfinder book she write in every day. She quit pathfinder society and went to Azlanti ruins. Coatl not able to follow yet." Walking uncomfortably close to the elf, Coatl takes an offered candy and pops it in his mouth, sliding it around before crunching on it loudly.
"Patzmiqui has good feeling about this trip though," he says with garbled words due to the candy pieces still floating around his tongue, "so Coatl has good feeling too. Maybe Patzmiqui good feeling is because he just ate last month! Ha!"
"Wait a minute." Coatl adds one last thing. "Fish man not... aaahhhh I get it. Ok! Coatl buy round right after Fish man pay for a round!"
The True North slowly pulls into Lilywhite, and the ramp is soon lowered to the peer. There, a tall Mwangi Man with close-cropped graying hair wearing a large orange mask that depicts a laughing man’s face. He shifts the party mask up to show you a better view of his face.
“Welcome to the town of Lilywhite, favored home of Cayden Cailean! You find us in the midst of our annual Rum Punch Festival—a truly blessed time for all! If there is any way that I can help you, please let me know.”
Those who are familiar with such things are able to easily identify the man as a priest of the Lucky Drunk, Cayden. He takes a deep swig of something foamy from his stein.
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Ortun looks at Coatl sternly. "Coatl, I realize that common might not come as easy to you as others, but fishman is not a kind way to address me. My's names, Ortun, Or-ta-un. I will allow it this time. But that is all. Drinks are on you." he says without a smile.
Still conversing among his group for the time being, Ortun still tries to draw Setare' Katsu out of her shell. "My ancestry too lies outside this plane, but my heart belongs here. I know the struggles of having two homes."
Drink in hand Otrun walks up to the priest of Cayden. "Well met friend. I am Ortun, and these are my fellow companions. What is your name? " after the formal greeting, Ortun begins to ply the host with questions. "These drinks are amazing. What establishment serves the best? Where do we go for the wildest celebrations? What is on your I have to do this or I haven't really been at the Rum Punch Festival? Should we all get masks?"
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Still conversing among his group for the time being, Ortun still tries to draw Setare' Katsu out of her shell. "My ancestry too lies outside this plane, but my heart belongs here. I know the struggles of having two homes."
”Ortun, Tha... thank you very much for your ki... kind words and you are ri... right that a spa... spark of fire resides within me bu.. but I was born in this wo... world and only my mo... mother can tell me about the wo... wonders of the planes ... You see... seem to have been tou... touched with the grea... greatness of the plane of wa... water!“
Setare looks at the small town and it is clear that a festival is a little overwhelming for her.
”I just hope that we will be able to he... help people here as well and may... maybe ... ehh ... well you all probably know this area be... better so I will fo.. follow ... “ Setare says in a quivering voice.
The man gives a hearty laugh and a wide smile.
Why, you can buy such a mask at many of the venders! It's not necessary, but they are fun! My name is Anyabwile Saabwa! Blessing of the cup upon you! If you find yourself bumped or bruised from the festivities, I'll happily help. All in the name of the lucky drunk of course! If I might advise, you can go down the the Cailean's Keg, we're holding contests for the Rum Punch Festival today! There are some great prizes to be had for those who take on the Lucky Drunk's challenge! I'll be here greeting newcomers, but I hope you have a great day!
Seeing Setare's nervousness, the man grabs a wooden cup from nearby and fills it with a foamy drink and passes it to her.
Come on Lass! They don't call it "Liquid Courage" For nothing! Have a swig, and perhaps the blessing of Cayden will fall upon you and wipe some of that worry and nervousness away!
He gives a hearty laugh and a smile.
"Well met Anyabwile Saabwa" Ortun clasps his hand.
Can't wait to hear what Coatl calls him! Ortun thinks.
"Cailean's Keg and games sounds wonderful. Shall we?" Ortun asks the group. "And I want to get one of those masks on the way. Do they mean different things? I'd hate to buy something offensive. But then this is the Shackles. Everything is probably offensive."
It seems the masks are purely decorative and do not have any special meaning to the masks.
Just don't dress as a slaver and I think you'll be fine! The priest chuckles heartily.
"Excellent! You have been most helpful, Anyabwile Saabwa. May your cup overfloweth, or some such Cayden Cailean motto." Ortun turns and exits the dock area stopping at the best looking mask stall on the way to Cailean's Keg. There he will barter and bolster, purchasing the most aquatic looking mask he can.
"What do you think! Do I look good?" he asks his new friends.
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"You ... you look good! Really good! May... maybe I can honor the Dawnflower wi... with my mask."
Setare purchases a mask that fits her devotion to Sarenrae.
"I ... I usually do not pre... preach but here ... it reminds me of my faith. Services to the Everlight are he... held outdoors and are joy... joyous affairs that feature sin... singing, dancing, and music!"
She hesitates for a moment and then continues.
"I ... I love to dance ... "
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Socraties will also find a mask and try to find something that gives him the secrative feeling of being a decemvirate member.
Alright now everyone, off on a suicide mission that I won't tell you my motives for why or give you any idea who I really am. he laughs to himself lightly.
It suits you well Ortun. Alright then, let us go to bar and see what we can do about showing our superioroty in these games. Hopefully there will be music and dancing for you Setare. giving an attempt at a comforting nod to Setare he starts to head for the bar, waiting if the others do not follow.
This large building is clearly marked as both a temple of Cayden Cailean and a functioning tavern. It is well maintained and freshly painted. The doors of its broad doorway are held open with wooden pegs hammered into the ground. There’s no sign the doors have closed anytime recently.
Inside a elderly woman with the sign of Cayden on her robes is calling out as several men and women sit around a table.
ALRIGHT! LET'S BEGIN AGAIN! DRINK!
In the center of the table are 16 drinks of all sizes, shapes, and colors. The men each grab one and down it. Some taking a shot, others a stein or a goblet. They slam down their drinks and grab another... and another...
About half of the drinks are your standard fair, but about half of them are of particularly strong make! And one of them seems to be of triple the strength!
Soon enough, several of them tap out with a laugh and a large belch, and another does the same. Soon enough, they are down to one man who stands holding his stein aloft as the priestess cheers.
AND FOR THE WINNER OF THE CHALLENGE! YOUR HERO'S STIEN!
She passes him a rather beautifully made silver stein, with intricate designs all over it.
ALRIGHT CHALLENGERS! WHO WANT'S TO TAKE THE LUCKY DRUNK'S CHALLENGE? LET'S SEE IF WE CAN GET A NEW RECORD TODAY! BUT DON'T YOU GET MY FLOORS MESSIER THAN THEY ALREADY ARE!
There is a great laugh at that comment, and it's easy enough to overhear someone talking about the record being set by a legendary sailor with a gut of Iron who managed to last 11 rounds of the game without hurling and then tapping out. It seems throwing up is a disqualification.
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Coatl raises an eyebrow at Ortun's disapproval initially, but shrugs it off. "You think about lightening up Or-ta-un. Stress like that is poison for your heart. Works same on fishy hearts and human hearts." Coatl smiles, knowing that last jab won't go unnoticed.
But before he can bear the wrath of Ortun, Cayden's select graces the group with his presence.
"Hey fake-funny-man! You look like me a little. Bloodcove? Coatl can tell from your accent. Plus Patzmiqui says you smell like mwangi. You too much of a city boy to be from real jungle." The smile on Coatl's face is in contrast to his judgemental remarks, making it clear that he either doesn't realize he might have insulted the man, or just doesn't care. "Thanks for tip!" He offers before the group heads out.
On the way to Cailean's Keg, Coatl buys a snake mask and a second human mask. He places the snake mask over his face, and ties the human mask onto Patzmiqui's tail as the massive snake slithers along behind him, his presence easily parting the crowd as they walk.
"Challenge? I take challenge. Patzmiqui, hold my mask." The skinny druid saunters up to the table.
Ahoy! Give me your worst! I'll drink any of you scurvy dogs under the table three times over! No one's gonna outlast Captain Jack!
Turning to Wenton, You look like you might have trouble handling your alchohol - no shame in sitting this one out. Stick to your strengths I say. We'll be sure to let you know if there's a competition to see who can be the most frightened!, and turning to Setare You lass - you don't look like one who can drink with the best of them - but something tells me I'd be wrong. Let's see what ya got!
The muscular half-orc saddles up at a bar stool and anxiously awaits the drinks to be poured. While waiting, he alternates between insulting and complimenting all those around him on all manner of things - their looks, their clothing, their demeanor, but you get the sense that it is intended in the spirit of merriment.
Rearranging his new mask, Ortun chuckles at the absurdity of adults dressing up like children playing pretend.
As he reaches Cailean's Keg he sees the alcohol consuming challenge in full swing and lifts the mask to the top of his head. After hearing the rules, he announces "I love me a drink, but I like to keep my wits about me. That has served me well keeping my head on my shoulders here in the Shackles. And I fear should I beat stalwart Jack over here, he might never recover. Drink up friends. Drink like you have a hollow leg." he says as he trips over a man's wooden leg. "Sorry there. Meant no disrespect fella."
The priestess sets out a new round of glasses as the team sits around and slaps Setare on the back.
Nonsense! Let no man or woman tell you your to weak for a challenge! Cayden teaches us that there is no shame in trying your hardest, so long as you come out the other end alive, you can learn and try again later!
She then let's everyone choose a glass... and down the hatch!
Wenton downs his glass... it is a rather fine ale!
Jack, Coatl, and Seatre (If she chooses to take a drink!) find that their drinks are a stronger brew, and leave eyes watering!
Round 1!
Wenton= 1
Jack = 2
Coatl= 2
Setare?= 2
Another!
Aologies for not updating my character sheet yet, I'll do it tomorrow morning. If you need it, my fort save should be around +9.
Coatl's head spins after the first drink, a sudden rush making him feel light-headed and light on his feet. "Woah. Maybe this a bad time to take first drink of city brew. Coatl only used to flat mango wine. Hey Setare, you do something different with your hair from before I took this drink?" The saucy druid winks at the reserved woman before turning back to the table.
"Again!" he shouts, not ready to give up just yet.
Wenton and Setare both drink down their glass to find that they have somehow picked the extra potent brew!
Jack and Coatl slams their drinks without much trouble, finding standard brews await them. Everyone is still feeling hearty though, so they grab another drink!
This time, Wenton is the only one to receive a powerful and potent drink, the others downing it easily. Wenton feels a biiiiit tipsy, but he can handle it for the moment!
This time it's Coatl who gets the extra hearty drink, but Coatl is hearty enough they barely notice the increased potency!
However, Wenton has reached that time when things get... shifty. He's definitely had more than a bit!
Now it's Setare who has gone past "Tingly" into "Oh my goodness this is a rather good time!" territory!
The others round the table are looking queasy, and dropping out like flies now... only a scant few remain!
Round 4!
5 Wenton= 6 Drunk! Pending Fort for round 4 if he chooses
5 Jack = 5
7 Coatl= 6
5 Setare= 6
Wenton slams his drink down and reaches for another...
Round 4!
5 Wenton= 7 Drunk!
5 Jack = 5
7 Coatl= 6
5 Setare= 6 Drunk! [/dice]
"Baaahahaha! Spicy pirate drijnk is good ya?! Coatl bet Gohzrah like the Lucky Drunk. Patzmiqui! You should try!"
Coatl doubles over with laughter, enjoying the moment and completely caught up in the drinking music.
"Patzmiqui, you such a good friend. My best friend. Seriously, you the best. Coatl lucky to have you. I take good care of you."
The druid leans over the coiled snake, caressing the scaled head and body while cooing at it. Socraties is almost certain that he sees Patzmiqui rolling his snake eyes.
Coatl eventually feels a gentle tapping on the side of his face as he is reminded that they are not quite done with the contest yet.
"More! Coatl gunna win! Jungle boy vs Captain Jack." he looks Jack square in the eye and raises an eyebrow, holding a serious face for all of five seconds.
More! Jack ain't letting no jungle dwelling snake lover drink him under the table!