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In any regard, your stay at Starrise Spire, the shining fortress that serves as the Pathfinder Society’s lodge here in Nerosyan has been interrupted this morning by Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury, who put out a call for any willing Society field agents to embark on a matter of great importance.
You head to Jorsal’s office, and find five quite capable-looking fellow Pathfinders who have taken up his call.
”Greetings Pathfinders!” The powerfully-built Garundi Venture-Captain greets you all with his keen eyes, and a calm, but booming voice. ”Perhaps some of you know, that over the last several months, I have been working on the Society’s behalf to assist a group of Sarkorian refugees in preparing for the long trek from Iobaria back to their homeland. With the Worldwound closed, these Sarkorians may just be able to make a new life for themselves in the lands of their ancestors.”
Jorsal bites his lip for a moment as he mulls something over in his head before speaking once more.
"I’ve just received a letter from a young woman named Nelket, leader and god caller of the Sarkorians in Mishkar. She’s a capable woman, particularly with that god of hers, a massive feathered bear called Dolok Darkfur at her side. The letter is badly smudged and damaged. Unfortunately, a bird delivered the message, so there was no one to ask for further details. As far as I can tell, it sounds like they’re having some kind of problem with forest goblins from the Iobarian woodlands trying to burn the town down. But there’s only so much I can tell from this blackened paper. Once you’ve read Nelket’s letter, I’ll be sending you on to Mishkar with all haste. We’ve made a promise to see these people back to their homeland, and I don’t intend to break it."
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The best paladins all went on crusades, and the best of the best lived in Nerosyan ready to leave and save the world form the threats of the demons of the Worldwound at a moment's notice. And no one would doubt that Anders and Maria Oathsworn were not one of the best and brightest examples of what a paladin should be, so of course they would have a townhouse with a training feild in the middle of town.
Kvina had come to visit home from her last assignment, excited to talk about all the amazing things she'd seen in the sky citadel Jormurdun. Her stories lasted most of a dinner before her parents countered with the time they visited the plane of hell itself to rescue a girl and her lost puppy, and then pressed the attack with questions about her life and why she hasn't gotten married yet. Thouroughly routed, Kvina retreated after dessert and decided to avoid furhter engagements by visiting the Starrise tower in the morning.
Arriving just in time for the call for pathfinders, Kvina double checks that her deep brown leather armor with dark grey hexognal plates swen across it and the bright blue gamberson underneath would pass muster before heading up to the office. She gives two precise knocks on Jorsal's door, before caustiously opening it and peering in.
Seeing that it is all clear, she opens the door wide and angles herself into the room, trying to keep the long bow on one hip and the quiver full of arrows on the other from bashing into the door frame. She straightens and gives the Venture-Captain a proper salute. "Kvina Oathsworn reporting for duty, sir!" She then stands back and listens to the Captain's breifing.
"If the goblins are attempting to burn the town and forest down that could prove problematic. It would be a pleasure to go and make sure the people there are safe..." ...and it'd be nice to get away from home right now.
She pauses for a second to read the note and then looks up, "This is probably something I should already know, but what kind o place is this 'Finadar Forest' and where is it and the town located. Also it's shameful for me to say, but I haven't read much on the Sarkorian peoples. What kind of reception should we be expecting from them?"
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Shilak'ho, or just Shilak for short, is a large reptilian humanoid, with grayish-black scales. While he is tall like most nagaji, he is also well-muscled unlike most who are slim like snakes. He bears an unusual looking blade across his back, while what appears to be a large dart attached to a rope hangs by his belt. Shilak is all bound up in thick fur, but he is clearly looking uncomfortable in the cold. Occasionally, he shivers violently, then sighs.
"My naga mistressss, Lady Mysshalla, directed me to ssstrengthen tiesss and trade acrossss Avisstan via the esssteemed Pathfinder Sssociety. It sssseeemmsss the Ssssoccciety needed assssissstancccce here for that was where our local contact ssssent me. Now I ssseee why, but I do wisssh it wassss to ssssomewhere warmer." Shilak starts speaking in a sibilant and guttural voice. But he puctuates his words with a graceful bow to soften the impact
"Goblinsss," he sighs as he continues. "Alwayssss a problem they are. Are they anything ssspecccial with thisss particular group?" He looks at the letter again. "And what, do you think, isss the causssse of thesssse black markssss?"
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Staggering in behind Shilak'ho is a gangly human woman - Ulfen, from the looks of it - with heterochromic eyes (blue on the right and hazel on the left) and movement punctuated by random tremors and spasms. She wears a bizarre-looking suit of hide armor the likes of which you've never quite seen before - possibly made from some sort of primordial sea creature - and her clothes are so dirty that moss and small flowers are literally growing out of the folds and cracks.
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What enters next is heard before it is seen, as sort of a long, drawn-out *squishing* sound - it is a vibrant blue slug, as long as a human is tall, its eyestalks scoping out the room - and Verdant especially - with an intense, inscrutable stare.
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Jorsal nods his head in response to Kvina's questions. "When the Worldwound erupted in old Sarkoris, many Sarkorian tribes and families were driven from their homes and forced to seek refuge or build new lives in neighboring countries and territories. With this recent call for aid, they will certainly be willing allies."
The Venture-Captain then heads to a small map on the wall, and points to a location hundreds of miles to the east from the Mendevian capital, Nerosyan. "As for the Finadar, it's the forest that surrounds the town of Mishkar on all but one of its sides."
The various mentions of goblins causes Jorsal to rub his chin. "They can certainly be pests wherever they show up, which is pretty much anywhere that's a rock's throw from civilization... but the Farheavens clan is currently being protected on this plane by their deity, Dolok Darkfur. I find it surprising that goblins would pose much of a threat to an extraplanar being such as him..."
The town of Mishkar is surrounded on three sides by the Finadar Forest.
The Finadar Forest in Iobaria is known for its bruorsivi, or “blood pines,” a highly flammable breed of pine tree with scarlet needles.
While the Finadar Forest’s blood pines make it highly susceptible to sudden and intense forest fires, the many druids and centaur shamans who occupy the forest typically keep these fires from growing out of control.
A few obscure legends hint that the blood pines of Finadar were carefully cultivated in a past age by cyclops conjurers who used the trees as fuel for rituals designed to bring immense beings of elemental fire into the world.
When the Worldwound erupted in old Sarkoris, many Sarkorian tribes and families were driven from their homes and forced to seek refuge or build new lives in neighboring countries and territories.
Several of these groups of Sarkorian refugees settled in Iobaria, a largely untamed wilderness filled with cyclops ruins, fierce centaur clans, and strange plagues.
Several months ago, the Pathfinder Society reunited the last god caller of the Farheavens Tribe with their lost god Dolok Darkfur, a powerful eidolon who takes the form of a colorful feathered bear.
The centaur tribes who live in the Iobarian forests near Mishkar communicate in the Elven and Sylvan tongues. They are often more favorably inclined to humans and other races who greet them in these languages, as well as individuals who are obviously of elven or fey descent.
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Shilak'ho, or just Shilak for short, is a large reptilian humanoid, with grayish-black scales. While he is tall like most nagaji, he is also well-muscled unlike most who are slim like snakes. He bears an unusual looking blade across his back, while what appears to be a large dart attached to a rope hangs by his belt. Shilak is all bound up in thick fur, but he is clearly looking uncomfortable in the cold. Occasionally, he shivers violently, then sighs.
Kvina gives the blade on Shilak'ho's back a good look, before coming in closer and asking. "I haven't ever seen a weapon like that before. If my curiosity isn't a bother, where is that from and what is it normally used for?" She then realizes just how cold the naga seems and pulls out a small piece of paper and a pen, as she does so she gives the man a quick magical once over, making sure he isn't some kind of evil. I might have to keep an eye on this one. "If you're cold might I reccomend a heatstone? They are cheap and absolutely amazing at keeping the chills at bay! Also mind if I ask what kind of naga your msitress is?"
A lightly above average tall, lean half-elf listens in on the mission briefing. He wears no armor but has an impressive long bow at his side but a club hanging from his belt.
Kvina smiles to see another bow user, but decides to keep her initial thoughts about his claim of shooting goblins to herself.
It takes the paladin a second to recognize that there was someone behind Shilak'ho, and she gives a small start when she does. After realizing that the twitching woman means no harm, Kvina gives an apprehensive but friendly-enough smile. "Uhhh, you okay there? Do you need any help? Are you... going to join us on this mission?"
She slowly edges away from the slug thing, a little apprehensive about something that... slimy that's almost as big as she is.
The distance grows as Kvina catches sight of the thing's eyes. I think staying as far from those two would be the best idea... Not because that slug freaks me the heaven out, no not at all.
The various mentions of goblins causes Jorsal to rub his chin. "They can certainly be pests wherever they show up, which is pretty much anywhere that's a rock's throw from civilization... but the Farheavens clan is currently being protected on this plane by their deity, Dolok Darkfur. I find it surprising that goblins would pose much of a threat to an extraplanar being such as him..."
Kvina's eyes grow distant at the thought of being directly protected by a diety. That must be nice to know, Iomedae does occasionally bless me, but having direct contact must be nice... Her thoughts come back as she realizes just what the implications of the Sarkovians having gblin problems means if they have divine protections. "We might need to be very careful if the goblins can bother people under direct grace from a diety. They might be a handful!"
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"I haven't ever seen a weapon like that before. If my curiosity isn't a bother, where is that from and what is it normally used for?"
"Thissss blade? I bring it with me from the far easssst, the landsss of Nagajor. The ssssmith at the corner of Vullatani and Mambillan Street made it for a few hundred piecccessss of gold. It isss ussssed for chopping up my enemiessss."
"If you're cold might I reccomend a heatstone? They are cheap and absolutely amazing at keeping the chills at bay!"
Shilak reaches over to hold the heatstone. "I do not underssstand. Thisss rock feelsss like any other." He studies it a bit longer before returning to Kvina.
"Also mind if I ask what kind of naga your msitress is?"
"My misstresss Mysshalla is a large and intimidating naga. A fierce and relentless naga. A wise and shrewd naga."
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After realizing that the twitching woman means no harm, Kvina gives an apprehensive but friendly-enough smile. "Uhhh, you okay there? Do you need any help? Are you... going to join us on this mission?"
"Of course," The twitching woman replies in an eerie, terse monotone. "Why I am here. Angrboda. Fossey." She gestures to the slug. "Eniac, my Spirit Guide."
She pulls out a bright purple ration-sack, and withdraws from it a small head of Rapunzel lettuce - as she does so, the ration-sack...giggles.
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Oops arrives at the last minute, being lead to the room by an upset guard with scorch marks on his armor and slight burns on his hands. Im so, so sorry again I wasn’t thinking and forgot I used that spell to keep my hands warm...yea..Huh? Sorry I’m late venture captain sir! Bit of a mishap coming in... Standing you see a pale yellow skinned gnome with Orange hair and yellow eyes, he has a bright blue glowing tattoo of a raven on the right side of his neck. The smell of burnt skin still lingering around his person. age stands quietly listening to Jorsal’s briefing and towards the end of it realizes he should have been taking notes and then tries to scramble for some parchment, but realizes after he adjusted his backpack he forgot to put it back in. Hello, Ogdin P. Singebottom here for duty but please, most people just call me Oops. Um I understand we are going to a highly flammable forest, like more flammable than usual???Um, yea that should be fine, er I should be fine? Suddenly his tattoo comes to life and blinks on to his shoulder. A living breathing raven sits perched on his shoulder.
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Jorsal greets Oops as he arrives. "Good, that makes our party of six. I'll call for your transport, he should be here within the hour."
An old, wizened man in azure robes enters Jorsal's office. "... your carriage arrives," he says in jest. "... it may look slow, but you'll be surprised in how fast I can get you to your destination. Shall we?"
Before you go, Jorsal gives you a small sack that contains six potions of resist energy (fire), and two weeks' worth of trail rations to feed the entire party. "You'll likely find this handy in your travels. Be safe, and assist the Sarkorians to the best of your abilities."
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It takes a few trips, as there are far too many of you to travel in a single casting of teleport, but your... pilot gets you safely to your destination with the use of several scrolls, travelling back and forth. Between the toll on his magical resonance, and the smoky haze in the air surrounding Mishkar, the wizard's voice grows raspier with every transit. After the last of you have been transported, he gives you a brief bow (and a hacking cough), then teleports back to Nerosyan.
Your teleportation deposits you right on target; you find yourselves a few hundred feet outside of Mishkar, next to a large sign that clearly bears the city's name. A smoky, orange-tinted haze fills the air, dimming the sun and scattering its rays into an orange halo.
As you get closer to Mishkar, you hear the sounds of a town in chaos. Roiling clouds of smoke from a massive forest fire darken the sky, and dim the sun's light. Utter chaos reigns as humans and goblins dart back and forth between the fire and a town, carrying buckets of water to douse buildings or stoking fire breaks to keep the massive conflagration from spreading into town.
The signs of recent battle mar the buildings and many of those fighting the conflagration bear the marks of conflict in the form of bloody bandages or pained limps. Across a large field from the village's southern edge, a hastily erected encampment bustles with the clopping hooves of numerous centaurs.
It appears that the road to Mishkar has recently served as a battlefield.
A group of centaurs gallops forth from their encampment near the forest's edge. They yell out at you in fury. One of them manages to shout in a voice you can make out, despite the distance. "Interlopers! If you're in league with the forest burners, turn back at once, or face our wrath! We will not allow you to drive us from our lands!"
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Kvina gives a small sigh over the frustratingly understandable yet still stupid misunderstanding of the centaurs. She turns to give Angrboda a thanks and a smile to catch Verdant's less than pursuasive words. She realizes that the centaurs aren't going to take any overtures from anyone they see as coming from Mishkar. Instead she tries switching tactics.
In a loud voice she calls to Shilak'ho, a small sound of surprise in her voice. "Iomedae above, the forest is burning! It's soo hot here, nothing like Nerosyan was, isn't it Shilak'ho?"
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Shilak rears up his already large form as he faces the centaurs, towering over the rest of his team. He is not hooded, like some najajis but you can almost feel his frame enlarging as he hisses at them.
"Sssssss! Ssssshilak is not a sssssmart nagaji, but you cccentaurs have goblin brainsss! Sssstop this now and help put out the fire! Before you have no more home!"
Only then does he turn back to Kvina, seemingly back to normal. "No, it is not. It is good."
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The centaurs glance at one another, and look a touch puzzled, perhaps as to why the reinforcements they've encountered aren't putting up a defence and seem more worried about fighting the fires than themselves. "To the camp!" one says to the other.
The two wounded warriors rear up, and make a quick retreat to the south.
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Shilak looks back and forth between the town and the centaur encampment, torn briefly between the two. Finally, he sighs. He is after all a dutiful nagaji. "We go to Missshkar. That isss our primary misssssion. Besssidessss, many more livesss would be lossst if the town goesss up in flamesss. The cccentaurssss are much more mobile."
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The town of Mishkar is a primarily human town built of stone and wood in a mixture of Varisian and Taldan styles. Not aligned with any of the powers in Iobaria, its people value their independence and self-sufficiency.
At the moment, the general feeling in the town is understandably one of frenzy and panic, as both humans (and curiously), goblins scurry back and forth throughout the edges of the town, throwing buckets of water on smoldering embers or wooden buildings and coming together to hurriedly dig trenches between the town and the burning Finadar Forest.
Near the southern gate that you approach, a massive, muscled bear with a mantle of rainbow-colored feathers stalks the edge of the town, keeping a watchful eye on the centaur encampment to the south of the village. As you approach, he bellows in an otherworldly baritone.
"Who is that approaches? Two feet for the lot of you, so not centaurs, clearly. You the Pathfinders that Nelket sent for?|
He snorts, then turns to a stocky goblin dressed in leathers and dragon bone-and-tooth adornments. "Dragbog, you'll want to fetch the 'mistress' for this..."
The goblin nods, and hurriedly runs off to the town square. The bear addresses you all once more. "Nelket will be here shortly. Dragbog there is too desperate to stay on our good side to tarry. It's... best you hear what happened directly from Nelket herself."
He then points a massive paw towards the townsfolk fighting the fires, and speaks once more. "In the meantime, I don’t suppose I could convince you to help us finish securing the perimeter, could I?"
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Teraren and Oops pitch in, and the most threatening parts of the blaze appear to have been beaten back.
Dragbog, the stout goblin from before returns with a human woman dressed in leathers and a tribal fur cloak. She has a scar that rakes across her left eye that suggests a rough history, but her tone is cheerful. "Have the Pathfinders come to rescue the Farheavens once again? Honestly, if the circumstances weren't what they are, I’d feel bad about bothering you all again so soon!” her face curves in a wry smile as she greets you all. "I am Nelket, the one who wrote Jorsal – once again, he has proved to be a most wonderful friend to the clan."
She looks around, and notices some passing glances at Dragbog. "I can see from your expressions that you’re curious about what’s going on here. Let me fill in the details for you." Nelket proceeds to scratch out a map of the area on the ground, describing the current situation. "About two weeks ago, we woke up to fire on the horizon and a tribe of goblins practically on our doorsteps. At first, we thought it was a raid, but when Dolok roared and charged to our defense, the goblins dropped everything they were carrying and started groveling on their bellies!"
Nelket smirks and glances at an embarrassed-looking Dragbog before continuing. "Dragbog here informed us that he’s the chieftain of these goblins, the Dragonskull Tribe, and that they were fleeing from fire, undead monsters, and some very angry centaurs. As you can see, the bit about the centaurs is quite true. Perhaps I should let Dragbog tell you the rest in his own words."
With that, Nelket nudges the nervous goblin a step forwards, and raises an eyebrow, prompting him to begin. "We Dragonskulls? We live in the red trees for a long time. Build our homes from dragon bones, hide beneath the ground when centaurs come. Red trees burn too good, but Dragonskulls know how fire works." The little goblin thrusts his narrow chest out proudly at this, then his expression changes suddenly.
"But...something bad happen. We burn sick trees around village like every year to keep fires small, but old stone in town catch fire too! Fires start jumping everywhere, and then Dragonskull homes wake up and start trying to eat us with fire-tongues! We run until Redpine horse-lady stop us and say we burn down their village too! So we run again until fire get too close. Dragonskulls set small fire to eat food so big fire not follow, then big bear invite us here."
The goblin finishes his story proudly, clearly impressed at his own... masterfully constructed narrative.
Dolok Darkfur huffs a husky laugh in response to the goblin’s tale. "True enough, as it goes. I thought the little rascals were the ones spreading the flames at first, until I noticed that they were actually containing the larger fire. They’ve been industrious enough around the town the last few days, though I worry about the attention they’re drawing from those centaurs."
Nelket presents you with a small purse – inside is a smattering of high-quality amber chunks. "This is a token of our appreciation, for your aid in beating back the fires for now."
"I'm afraid I have but one more favour to ask of you," says Nelket. "... Dragbog mentioned that an old stone in his village started to burn, and his tribe's homes "woke up" and tried to eat them - it took me a while to discern what he meant, but it turns out they were living in huts and homes made from of old dragon bones - and after this stone began to catch flame, these dragon bones animated and began to spread the initial fire...."
Dolok interjects. "Old dragon bones don't just come to life, so that stone has to be the source of the problem. If you'd let him, Dragbog has volunteered to guide you through the forest to the Dragonskulls' village. Are you up to the task?"