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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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A 5'8" Kelshite stands near the door, one hand caressing the pommel of his scimitar, the other, his silver Holy Symbol of Sarenrae. Bowing deeply to the others, he introduces himself...."I am Oded Fardeth, Cleric of the Great Goddess, Sarenrae. I am pleased to be able to assist in this manner."
Oded tries to remember anything about this Dolok Darkfur...
...and shares anything he may learn with the group.
"How are we going to get there fast enough to help with a fire in the town?"
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Jian-Wei Ai is leaning against a wall, decked out in yellow-and-green robes. Her red hair hangs loose past her waist as she sticks out a hand to anyone who'll shake it. "Hi, I'm Ai!" She grins a tricksy grin. "Do you have a moment to hear the wisdom of Picoperi? Yes? Wonderful! Picoperi says, 'goblins aren't the best at burning things, they were just the firest!'"
"In all seriousness, Oded, I don't know if we can answer your question in the afiremative, but we can certainly try! As long as this Dolok Darkfur isn't hiburnating, maybe he can help us?"
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Jorsal scratches his chin at Oded's question. "Well, as I said, I was sending you there... thankfully, I was able to procure the services of a conjurer who has knowledge of Mishkar, and the ability to reliably activate a scroll of teleport." A bit of a sheepish look crosses the Venture-Captain's face as he continues. "Such an experienced caster... well, age is experience, no? He is quite old and frail, but he assured me he could get you all there. Even if his services as an it is one-at-a-time."
Hearing Ai's mention of Dolok Darkfur, Jorsal interjects. "Dolok is the god of the Farheavens clan, but not a god as they’re most commonly thought of; Darkfur walks among his people at the behest of the god caller Nelket. He takes the form of a massive feathered bear and I'm given to understand he’s quite formidable. He gave a few of your fellow Pathfinders some trouble about a year back, but he's become a fast ally of the Society in the time since. His knowledge of the history of Sarkoris is unrivaled by any other creature I know of."
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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Cork moves into the room and finds an out of the way corner to stand in. He listens to Jorsal's briefing with interest. Although he wasn't involved in the previous Pathfinder activity with the Sarkorians, he has picked up quite a bit of information about their history in the region. At a break in the conversation he interjects. "Yeah, I've heard about the Sarkorians and their recent history. This should be pretty easy for us. Especially with the magic transport." He nods to his fellow adventurers with a friendly smile, even though he hasn't introduced himself to them yet.
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Likely the last to enter and the most abrupt Domrilin walks in with his head held high and his face all in a knot. He stands in the center of the room paying no mind to his fellow pathfinders until he hears the voice of someone familiar. He turns to the corner with Cork in it and a very slight grin comes across his face."Hello! Cork its been a bit sense our last meeting how odd to meet ya out here in this barren wasteland." He then turns to Jorsal and says "Well wheres this old man who can take us to Mishkar." He then does not wait for an answer and turns to the group and says "Sorry forgot, you might need to buy some coats after all its chilly out there and I wouldn't want you all slowing me down."
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Jorsal greets Domrillin as he arrives. "Good, that makes our party five. 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!"
The centaurs brace for combat, and set to charge you.
Cork
Centaur A, Centaur B
Ai, Ankird, Domrilin, Oded
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Ai looks at the oncoming centaurs, then at the clubs flying by, and opens her mouth. "Now, before you get fired up, it'd be-hoove you to listen for a moment. We don't want to fight you, we just want to figure out what's going on here and how we can help fix it! In fact...we're firefighters! Yep, firefighters...from Neryosan!"
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Domrilin's act of extinguishing the fire near him stops the centaurs in their tracks.
They glance at one another, then rear their front legs and make a quick turn to head straight to the south.
As you track their movement, you see them head towards the northern edge of the Finadar Forest, and a makeshift encampment that shows the signs of being hastily erected; leather tarps hang from the trees, providing some shelter from rain and ash, and the southern edge of the encampment is bordered with a deep, water-filled trench.
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"Halfing I disagree we should finish our mission before we go off chasing horses, Our mission was to help Mishkar with the fires and we know little of these centaurs, they may not be interested in the people of Mishkar, or they themselves could be people of Mishkar, however I know not the population of that town, all I know is I was sent to help Mishkar not some prancing pony's who might want to put out the fire for their own reasons."
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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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The people of Mishkar are more than grateful for the help. The villagers scrambling about are busy forming bucket lines to douse the houses nearest to the forest fire, while the goblins split their attention between running around stomping on drifting embers and clearing dry brush before it can become fuel for the spreading flames.
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Ai's speedy relaying of water buckets helps the villagers out and Domrilin assists the goblins in performing a touch of emergency landscaping to help deal with the fires.
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?"
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"Well, now that the immediate danger seems to be passed, let's do that. Let's see what the situation is with the centaurs. Domrilin, maybe they were just stressed out about the fire." Cork wipes the mud and dirt from his hands and onto his pants. He shakes his head with a small smile. "By the way. That is some story about your home." He addresses Dragbog. "After the centaurs, I'll want to see these dragon bones."
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Dragbog nods at Cork's comment. "Yes... after centaurs... uh..."
As you begin to turn to head off to the centaur camp, Dragbog looks back at Nelket and Dolok, then to you all, leaving a bit of a distance between himself and the party.
"Uh... I think it not very clever for me to go near this Redpine camp. They blame me and rest of Dragonskulls for fire... Chief Dragbog end up with arrow in guts, or his head on spear? Doesn't make for a good goblinsong... no, I'll stay. You come back when ready for the forest, yes?"