The long trip to the coast of Sargava was for once fairly calm. Booking passage on a ship flying the colors of the former Chelaxian colony afforded protection from the Free Captains the prowl the Shackles for plunder. The weather remained fair and breezy, all the way to the lone deepwater port in Desperation Bay. The city of Eledar does not loom on the horizon, rather keeping a lower profile along the coast.
Disembarking from the ship, the docks are bustling with activity as cargo is moved to and from the many ships berthed in port. Beyond the hustle low buildings stretch long and low, a curious contrast to the frontier outpost vibe of the surrounding lands. Gothic architecture dominates here, the mark of colonist tastes upon the city, although the sweltering humidity has forced some concessions to local design. You pass by spacious courtyards visible through iron wrought gates in the surrounding walls and can see wide windows granting the costal wind ingress to the chambers within.
On arrival at the Pathfinder Lodge, you are lead into a wide hall with a few chairs pulled together for you. The Venture Captain should call for you within a quarter of an hour perhaps, as refreshments are being prepared.
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A solidly built half-orc woman with pale green skin tattooed with ancient osiriani sigils approaches the group. She wears her long black hair tied back, and has rather large teeth protruding from her mouth. Despite the heat she appears completely comfortable. She bows deeply to her superior agents, and announces, "Greetings. I am known as Kenza Bloodborn. I am honoured to serve you." When someone allows her to rise, Kenza stands to her full height and locks eyes with each of the other Pathfinders, nodding at each of them respectfully.
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From the ship comes another Pathfinder, this one very small in stature: a grippli. The grippli tugs and tugs on a lead rope "Come on Sunny, you've made it! Dry land! No salt water!" She begs and pleads before finally a medium sized giant slug with twirling eye stalks slimes its way down the gang plank and onto dry land.
"Alright girl, you did it!" The petite frog hugs the slug and tries to jump up on a saddle that's strapped across its back... only to be met with a slap of the head.
"Ugh, ok ok, too soon I get it... I'll get you something nice to eat real soon."
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As Kenza approaches and introduces herself, Mae follows suit "Oh hello. I am Mae, protector of all things swampy and boggy. And this is my companion and friend: Sunny." She blinks a few times before her tongue lashes out and licks her eyeballs.
She leans in and whispers "Please don't get too close to Sunny, she's pretty mad right now.. and hungry." She bobs her head slowly and seems to smile.
Mae is dressed in what looks like dyed banana leaves stitched together across her torso with a wayfinder hanging from her neck. She's got a dagger on her hip and a large wooden shield across the back of her pack.
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Casually strolling down the gangplank comes a middle-aged tiefling woman. With a pistol on each hip, she adjusts her hat to shield her eyes from the sun as she shifts slightly under her duster, obviously uncomfortable with the heat. Hmm, interesting selection of character the society has put together this time. We'll have to see how well we can all work together, but I look forward to travelling with you and may Calistria give us fortune in taking vengeance upon our enemies, whomever they may be.
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Swaying slightly, a weatherbeaten man ambles down the gangplank, adjusting his wide-brimmed hat to block the sun. His face is the same texture as the long leather coat he carries over his arm: rough, worn, and of indeterminate middle age. "Damn boats," those nearby hear him mutter. He spits off the dock and looks around to get his bearings. His eyebrows raise at the sight of the small frog-thing pulling the larger slug-thing, and he wanders over.
"Careful, li'l one," he says with a wink. "A slug 'at size could make a meal out of yeh wi' one bite!" He half-smiles and tips his hat at the grippli, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth. "I be Jebediah Bishop. Pleased to make yer acquaintance." He turns to the slug and gives it a low bow. "And to you, my dear Venture-Captain! he says with mock deference.
He nods to Kenza with an appraising eye, and raises a bushy eyebrow at Naevys' appearance, before offering a hand in friendship. "Jed Bishop. Good to be workin' with yeh."
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Looking slightly resigned as he follows the others off the boat, a halfling leads a placid mule onto the docks. The habitual smile on his face is not matched by his eyes as he quickly takes in the sights and follows the others from the docks, turning out the tien-cut robe which bear letters, kanji and runes in several languages. Under the robe, the scales of Abadar can be seen lightly etched into his breastplate.
As he walks, he seems to be speaking with the mule. "Well, Cabbage-Seeker, I daresay we've found at least some of our companions as only in a Pathfinder team or a joke about a bar in Absalom or Kaer Maga would you normally find this sort of mix."
Message on the robe:
"Master Herbalist and Healer - reasonable rates. All business arrangements negotiated in either Taldane or Infernal."
"Master Herbalist and Healer - reasonable rates. All business arrangements negotiated in either Taldane or Infernal.
No crops or services involving Bellflowers at this time."
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Mae's head bobs up and down in agreement to the greetings and smiles a bit as Jed mistakes Sunny for a VC "Sunny wouldn't make a good VC, she gets angry easily and doesn't talk much." She pauses and makes the connection "Oh, yes, she does remind me of Valsin a bit. He seems angry often."
Her attention turns as the Halfling and his friendly mule come off the ship "Cabbage Seeker. Does the name fit? Sunny is quite the fan of cabbages as well. Banana leaves, and most of all mushrooms." She turns to Jed to add "But she does not eat Grippli. And the way her tongue works it would take many more than one bite to consume one. It is more of a slicing and dissolving thing. Stay away from her mucus, it burns like acid."
"If we come across any angry animals or insects... please let me speak with them before attacking. I can usually convince them to find easier prey. Thank you." She bobs her head up and down twice, smiling once more.
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Thaiadora Rossenvelt (of the Egorian Rossenvelts) disembarks From her ship, the Chelish merchant vessel the Lady's Venture with a purposeful stride. She is met on the dock by a large local man who after a formal greeting falls into step behind her. There's a large travel pack strapped to his back.
Not long after her polished, black boots can be heard pounding along the length of the hall in which Pathfinders are waiting.
*pound, pound, pound, pound, pound, pound, pound, pound,
She's dressed in khaki safari garb: jodhpurs, pocket vest, jacket, and a pith helmet with googles. A large Mwangi man with a shaved head follows in her wake.
"Well, well, what have we here?" the woman says tugging her leather gloves off one finger at a time. "Waiting upon the vice-prinicipal's displeasure are we?" she adds smiling down upon the group (whether they are sitting or standing, no matter how tall they actually are).
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He nods to Kenza with an appraising eye, and raises a bushy eyebrow at Naevys' appearance, before offering a hand in friendship. "Jed Bishop. Good to be workin' with yeh."
Kenza looks surprised at the offer of a handshake but accepts, shaking Jebediah's hand as if she were afraid of sullying him. "You honour me, sir," she replies.
"If we come across any angry animals or insects... please let me speak with them before attacking. I can usually convince them to find easier prey. Thank you." She bobs her head up and down twice, smiling once more.
Looking down at the little grippli, Kenza nods her head. "Understood." She seems to have taken this as an order.
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Jed offers his hand to Chance and Lady Rossenvelt. "Good t'meet yeh. I be Jebediah Bishop."
He glances about at the group. "Given the luck o' most Pathfinders, the Venture-Cap'ns have started sending body retrieval folks along right from the start. Saves time. 'Course, not every body can be retrieved... that's where ol' Bessey comes in." He taps the handle of the spade that protrudes from his sea bag. "Anyone have any particular preference? In th' ground, fire, sky burial? Let me know, or it'll be dealer's choice when th' time comes."
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Chance accepts the handshake with his customary smile.
Well, hopefully I'll do my job of keeping everyone alive well enough your services won't be required. That said, if I do end up dead, I'd like a traditional halfling funerary fate - cremation and then my ashes mixed with clay to form a brick to make a proper hearth to warm and to feed those who come after me. Of course, that's only if I don't find another way back or if I'm turning into an undead or somesuch. "Only hurry if haste is needed" and all that.
After a few minutes more, a half-elf agent approaches to fetch the party, notable as of Ekujae descent. He shows you to the venture captain's office, a stout wooden door opening to a much more enclosed chamber. Venture Captain Finze Bellaugh paces about his desk, pouring iced tea from a a pitcher into several glasses before him. The breeze through the main hall does little to dispel the stuffy heat of the room.
“Thank you, Falandar. Welcome to those of you who are new to Eleder, I hope you are enjoying my city. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it more upon your return, as your talents are needed inland." He gestures for you to sit in the simple wooden chairs arranged around the desk, pouring himself a glass of tea before he takes his own seat. He pushes a velvet cloth covered in pieces of a wayfinder aside and takes a swallow of the refreshment before continuing. The sunlight slanting through the blinds behind casts his face in shadow as he speaks.
“Ten years ago, an expedition into the Mwangi interior discovered some interesting items from the Age of Anguish: items believed to belong to the King of Biting Ants, abandoned in his defeat by Old-Mage Jatembe. Clearly, these are worthy of study—so much of that period is still half-myth! But we never had the chance. The expedition’s return journey crossed through Mzali territory, and, as I am sure you know, the Mzali despise trespassers. Only one agent made it out alive, and he bears...many scars. Some of a nature it has been impossible to heal.”
“Stuinvolk was an excellent field agent before this. But the trauma of seeing his friends die, from being hunted, tortured, and then barely escaping... upon his return, we tried to find a place for him, but the limited fieldwork we provided showed he hadn’t recovered enough for that type of stress. His moods changed without warning. Anger mingled with icy reserve, throwing himself into needless risk to protect others, or shutting down in a panic mid-fight. We tried to find him other work, but in all cases he had become unsuitable. Even when simply taking reports from other agents, he would break out in a sweat when hearing about experiences even slightly similar to his own."
“We have been trying to find ways to help those who suffer mental distress like this on the Society’s behalf—Stuinvolk is not the first, of course. And, in the past year, he has made some success. He is working with a specialist who has soothed many of the rough patches in his mind. He now understands the deaths of his friends are not his fault. There is one element to his therapy that remains to be seen, though: revisiting what he feels is his greatest failure. At the end of the Mzali hunt, Stuinvolk was alone and unsure if he would survive. He hid the artifacts where the Mzali wouldn’t find them. But they caught him, tortured him, and left him for dead. He would have died if not for a twist of fate."
"Have any of you heard of a creature called a nuno? Odd, solitary gremlins, mushroom-headed and possessed of an affinity for ants. Stuinvolk was left staked out among this particular nuno’s anthills. While it eventually set him free, it was so outraged by the intrusion that it laid a curse upon Stuinvolk—a curse we have not been able to remove. Stuinvolk managed to return to civilization, but he has lived with the nuno’s mark upon him all this time. And that is how he can undo his greatest regret—those who are cursed by a nuno also have the ability to unerringly locate that nuno again.”
Bellaugh leans forward on the desk, and his voice lowers to a whisper. “To be clear, this is no mere treasure hunt. As important as the artifacts are, they are trinkets. You are escorting and protecting Stuinvolk because his counselor believes he needs to reach some kind of closure. He is willing to revisit the place of his greatest nightmares and retrieve that which he feels he lost. I would like those artifacts, yes, but my main concern is helping my agent. I have seen too many lost to horror. I am sending you all along to bring him home again. Find the treasures, compel the nuno to lift its curse, but most of all, help Stuinvolk find peace.”
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Jed whistles at the Venture-Captain's tale. "The Mzali, eh? Those folks's bad news. Ruled by a mummy, what ken ye expect? They don't brook outsiders, I'm surprised yer boy Stuinvolk made it out with his hide." Jeb relays what he knows about the Mzali
"Now, as for this "king of Biting Ants"... who knows? Legend says he was a sorcerer that was actually made out of biting ants... his whole body was a big swarm o'them. But all o'that time is half myth, half misinterpretation, half mistranslation," Jed ticks off the items on his fingers, seemingly unaware of the meaning of the word "half".
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Mae's head bobs along as the VC, and then Jed speak. She left Sunny tied outside as no one enjoys cleaning up a slug trail in their office.
"This Stuinvolk makes me sad. I would be glad to help him ease his head and heart." She sips on the tea a bit, unused to the cold she does not particularly enjoy it and sets it down.
"If these things are all true then it will be hard to travel through these jungles safely. A group of people do not pass through someone's swamp without them knowing it. I could maybe alone but all of us not so well." She looks down to the floor in thought, shaking her head without any ideas to the contrary.
"A man made of biting ants? He sounds delicious but dangerous. Sunny is not a fan of biting ants, they are known to eat her kind through sheer numbers. They can even be so dangerous to kill my people if they have had too much Bufo." She bobs her head a few times as if agreeing with herself on that fact.
Marshwight (Ex): At 2nd level, a swamp druid gains a bonus on Initiative checks and Knowledge (geography), Perception, Stealth, Swim, and Survival checks equal to 1/2 her druid level in swamp terrain, and she cannot be tracked in such an environment. This ability replaces woodland stride.
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Well, hopefully I'll do my job of keeping everyone alive well enough your services won't be required. That said, if I do end up dead, I'd like a traditional halfling funerary fate - cremation and then my ashes mixed with clay to form a brick to make a proper hearth to warm and to feed those who come after me. Of course, that's only if I don't find another way back or if I'm turning into an undead or somesuch. "Only hurry if haste is needed" and all that.
Thaia stops mentally sizing up the halfling for a hearthstone in her merchant house's new warehouse in Sargava when the door opens. "Wait here Jakob."
The big man nods and moves to stand across the hall.
"Time is treasure, you know." she snaps at the Venture-Captain as she enters his office.
"This Stuinvolk makes me sad. I would be glad to help him ease his head and heart."
Thaia attempts to not roll her eyes at this point. Obviously the man's just lost his nerve. He'll get it back once I've instilled some discipline in him. He'll loose his fear of the Mzali. Just pray to the Lord of Law that he not loose his fear of me.
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Chance looks around in a bit of confusion.
I'm sorry, perhaps someone could fill me in. I assume the Mzali are locals, likely indigenous, but other than a comment about being ruled by some sort of undead, you've lost me. That said, the mission itself seems relatively straightforward. Does anyone know what we may be able to offer this nuno to remove the curse?
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Well they are not receptive to outsiders, that's for sure. We'll need to be circumspect and not go out of our way to piss them off Naevys appears to be talking directly to Thaia.
"No matter, I am familiar enough with the land. I have friends in every town and village from here to Sothis. I speak a dozen dialects and know every local custom. I'll blend in, disappear. They'll never see me. With any luck I'll have the grail inside of a week.... It was a grail, right? Well whatever the artifact is to be had, I shall recover it."
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"Aye, ye might recover the artifact, miss, but ye'd fail the mission we've bin assigned." Jeb looks sidelong at Thaluia. Typical Chel, he thinks to himself. Doesn't need ta listen, she already knows it all... "Our job, if'n I suss it correctly, is to escort Stewinfolk back to this nuno, an' protect 'em on the way." He looks to the Venture-Captain for confirmation.
Jed turns back to Chance. "Aye, the Mzali are locals, Mwangi dedicated to peace, tranquility, and the extermination of all other life forms. If ya cross their unmarked borders, there's only one punishment: death. Intrude on their sacred spaces: that's death, too. An' they don't jess keep ta themselves... they attacked some of tha towns 'n'cities of Sargava. Few times."
"Time is treasure, you know." she snaps at the Venture-Captain as she enters his office.
Finze responds with a smooth smile, "Quite true, Baroness, but haste makes waste of all things. This mission has waited a decade, it may wait a few more days if it will ensure success."
"...That said, the mission itself seems relatively straightforward. Does anyone know what we may be able to offer this nuno to remove the curse?
"Well...ending the nuno's life will end the curse, so that is one method. I'd hope you can find a way to negotiate a peaceful settlement however, as a non-hostile contact in the region is better than another corpse. I trust you to do your best."
"Our job, if'n I suss it correctly, is to escort Stewinfolk back to this nuno, an' protect 'em on the way." He looks to the Venture-Captain for confirmation.
"Excellent summation, Mr. Bishop. Stuinvolk will be able to lead you to both it and the hidden relics. Your priority is safeguarding his life, removing the curse, and retrieving the cache." The venture captain gives an encouraging smile to Jebediah, before looking to the rest of the party. "What else can I answer for you? You'll speak to Stuinvolk soon, hopefully tomorrow afternoon. Then I expect you'll depart upriver the morning after."
Do we know the specific nature of the curse? - is it likely to result in him being a danger to himself or others?
"The mark it has left is...unpleasant. Try not to stare when you meet Stuinvolk. While it does not seem to have other deleterious effects, it does link the nuno to him. That is how you will find the creature."
What ways other than the death of the Nuno are there to end the curse. Are they intelligent/articulate and able to be reasoned with?
"Yes, although they appear to be very hostile, much like the Mzali. We believe it can be lifted by will, but convincing the nuno to do so will take some effort. I'm afraid our records of their culture are lacking."
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"Anythin' else we should know about tha journey, Cap'n?" Jed asks. "Will we need a guide, in case Stewyfark loses it and cain't find the place? D'ye have his maps or journal or anything?" He scratches his chin thoughtfully. "An' howzabout these nuno creatures? Presumably they kin curse ya, but what else should we know?"
"You're traveling to this region." Finze jabs a finger to the map, a good stretch inland and south of the Screaming Jungle. "A few days by riverboat will take you as far as the Lake of Vanished Armies, then it's overland through the savannah, maybe a weeks march. Stuinvolk is the only guide you need, as he can make a compass of sorts that points the way for him. I don't rightly know why such a curse exists, but it's a bit of a blessing in disguise that it leads back to the cause. I'm afraid I've little else I can offer of the nuno. Our bestiaries have scant information on them."
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He glances about at the group. "Given the luck o' most Pathfinders, the Venture-Cap'ns have started sending body retrieval folks along right from the start. Saves time. 'Course, not every body can be retrieved... that's where ol' Bessey comes in." He taps the handle of the spade that protrudes from his sea bag. "Anyone have any particular preference? In th' ground, fire, sky burial? Let me know, or it'll be dealer's choice when th' time comes."
"I would prefer my body be returned whole to the Lodge in Sothis for mummification, that I may continue to serve my masters in the afterlife. Thank you."
As the briefing continues around her Kenza she listens respectfully, clearly taking in every word said by her betters, but having little to add to the conversation.
"I have prepared for you basic trail rations and water, but I recommend you acquire any specialized gear you see fit in the markets. Stuinvolk estimates at least a week overland once you are off the boat. If all goes well, I expect you back within the month."
With the bulk of the questions answered, the venture captain adjourns the meeting. The halls of the lodge bring welcome relief via the flowing air before the party exits to the markets. Eleder is not the largest of cities but the flow of trade through its port makes for a bountiful selection. Returning to the lodge with purchased items, the party is able to relax and rest before rising the next morning to breakfast and the announcement that Stuinvolk will be ready to meet at Eider's Pub, just beyond the bustle of the docks.
Inside, the patrons sup their lunch with a comfortable quiet. Most all of them pointedly ignore the lone figure seated by himself, clearly being given a wide berth. The Ulfen man looks up and nods to you, waiting until everyone is seated to speak. "Welcome. As you can guess, I am Stuinvolk. Allow me to explain the plan clearly." Much as Finze said the day before, Stuinvolk details the boat ride on the morning, taking a few days to reach the disembarking point, and finally traveling across the plains to the nuno's territory. "I can show you how we will navigate. It is simple enough." He lifts a lit candle over a bowl of water set to the side, allowing the puddle of hot wax to spill into the cool water. It floats, beginning to cool and harden, but clearly begins to pull towards the edge. Stuinvolk turns the bowl slowly, showing the wax glob rolling along the edge of the bowl. "It will always point to it. What we do when it leads there, I leave to you. The boat will return for us two weeks after dropping us off. What else do you need to know?"
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Mae bobs her head in greeting as they meet Stuinvolk "Hello, I am Mae. We are here to help you return to the jungle and talk to your nuno." Her head bobs more as she smiles.
"Do you know of any thing on our route that we will need special equipment to pass? We have ropes and climbing hooks I think. Are there any other hazards you passed that you can remember?" She asks in her quiet tone.
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Naevys steps closer to examine him. Fascinating! I assume you've tried the basics? Healing magic, curse removal, things like that? Anyway, back to the point at hand.
That wax trick, do you need to be holding the bowl or can someone else hold it? Does it need to stay within a certain distance from you?
Stuinvolk pays no attention to Thaia's outburst, while Naevys illicts a sigh. "We have. Focus on the mission." he answers curtly. "It seems to only work while I hold it. Strange magic."
Looking to the grippli, he shakes his head. "The terrain is flat, very little need for climbing. Perhaps the nuno lives in a more hazardous place. I cannot say for certain. We will cross some rivers, but should not need to swim."
The growths are unpleasant, but do not appear life-threatening. It appears to extend down his chest as well, visibile where the neck of his shirt is unbuttoned in the Sargavan heat. They do not match any natural affliction you know of, nor does it seem to have any planar influences.
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Mae bobs her head some more in understanding before adding in "When we find this nuno. What do you plan to do? Do you wish to be violent with it or are you hoping to talk to it from your heart. Or maybe exchange some favors to be cured?"
After finishing the question the grippli rises and places her sticky feet against the wall, lifting herself up a few paces to look out a grimy window as if checking on something. "Please continue, I am just keeping an eye on Sunny. She can get into trouble in the city when she runs out of food." I have not heard screams yet, this is good.
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Kenza bows respectfully to Stuinvolk, apparently completely unconcerned about his disfigurement. "I am honoured to meet you, sir. I am known as Kenza Bloodborn."
Returning to her full height she opens her mouth to ask a question, but promptly closes it. Lady Mae has already asked. She inclines her head to Lady Mae respectfully, impressed with the grippli's wisdom.
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Jed stands back as the others engage with Stewingbowl. After hearing Lady Mae's question, he moves forward. "Jed Bishop. Good ta meet ya. I'm thinking that this nuno thing isn't something we want to leave running around, given their predilection of cursin' people. Whaddya think about that?" he asks, watching the man's face closely.
"What happens to the creature is of little concern to me. Do as you see fit." Jebediah finds his response impassive, business-like. As near as he can tell, this is another mission like any other. He does offer a curt nod to Kenza's introduction, at least.
"Don't leave any marks for me to clean up!" the barkeep calls out with a frown as Lady Mae climbs up the wall.
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Mae's eyes bug out a bit at the reprimand from the barkeep. She quickly drops to the floor and lashes her tongue out to clean the smudges off the glass. "All clean."
"I prefer to avoid violence if we can, especially if this nuno was just protecting his homeland. Everyone has a right to protect their homes." With this Mae quickly hops outside to wrangle Sunny.