Gameplay for GM PaleDim's Outpost II game. Feel free to dot-and-delete here if you are signed up for this table.
You arrive in the Rahadoumi port city of Manaket. Here on the docks, you notice your fellow Pathfinders gathering to make your collective way to the Swordmeet Lodge.
The greenish incorporeal phantom stands beside his master as a faithful bodyguard.
After arriving in the Rahadoumi port city of Manaket, you make your way to the Swordmeet Lodge. A candied aroma wafts from multiple barrels of pyment—a beverage of fermented grapes and honey—strewn about the surprisingly barren grand hall of the lodge. At an ornate banquet table with legs carved in the stalwart forms of Rahadoumi crusaders wielding immense falchions sits the room’s lone occupant, Venture-Captain Obo. He is a broad-shouldered man wearing an olive tunic trimmed with gold filigree and sporting a puffy gray beard mottled here and there with black patches. Next to him sits a large bottle of pomegranate wine, several empty glasses, and a silver plate adorned with a half-eaten roast hen, a fig tart, and a small mound of creamy bread pudding topped with ground pistachios. Obo’s attention is clearly focused on the ornate siege board arranged as if two players had played a game into its late stages, with the monarch threatening to leave via the right edge of the board, thus winning the game for the defenders. As he stares at the pieces, Obo holds his fingers atop one of the attacking pieces, a knight carved of crimson marble, studying the placement of the defenders—white caliche castles protecting a lone sovereign. His other hand absentmindedly stirs the bread pudding with a spoon. defenders—white caliche castles protecting a lone sovereign. His other hand absentmindedly stirs the bread pudding with a spoon.
Venture-Captain Obo mumbles to himself while studying the siege board. "Now, if the invader moves parallel to the defender, resting in the seventh hall of the first tower, then the sovereign will be exposed to counterattack from—bah, I will never remember all of Valsin’s cryptic strategies!" Obo slams his free hand down on the table, and then gestures at the open chairs before him. "Sit, sit, for our very own game is afoot. Troubling news arrived two weeks ago from one of the Society’s trusted confidants, an artifacts expert and appraiser in the souk of Azir. Goes by Torvad. Torvad Shalzadin."
Obo produces a small roll of parchment, its wax seal clearly broken. "This letter indicates that Torvad had been recently asked by a client to verify the authenticity of a rare artifact. Much to his surprise, every detail about the relic indicated that the fragment is one of the shards of the Shattered Shield of Arnisant. That’s supposedly impossible; all of the remnants of the shield are kept safe in Vigil, right under the Watcher-Lord’s nose. Per reports from both the Decemvirate and the Dark Archive, no one in Lastwall suspects any of the shards are missing. Torvad reports that the shard’s current owner, a clandestine auction house for illicit divine artifacts in Azir, the Sacred Cobra, intends to sell it in just seven days! If that shard is in fact a piece of the Shattered Shield of Arnisant, we must stop such an important relic from falling into the wrong hands."
"Though it would be faster to go by sea, a rash of piracy just beyond the Arch of Aroden means reconsidering the route. I’ve arranged for you to go by caravan. Once you arrive, find Torvad and convince him to disclose the location of the Sacred Cobra auction house as well as the precise time of the auction. The Cobra’s whereabouts are known only to a few major players in the artifacts trade, so you’ll need to act quickly before the shard can be sold and potentially lost forever. To even be considered as a buyer, you’ll need him to lend you his bidder’s banner, a token the Sacred Cobra uses to identify clientele considered in 'good standing' with the organization. It’s probably safest if you can acquire the shard by winning it at auction, though I trust you to do what is necessary to obtain the shard for the Society. Take this." Obo again slides his hand inside his tunic to retrieve a small bundle of parchments. "Each of these ten letters is a bank note from Manaket, good for one thousand gold pieces. Showing these to the clerk of the auction house should help establish you as a serious buyer. Use the Society’s money wisely to ensure you obtain the shard, but if you see any other artifacts on auction that might be better off in the Society’s possession, you can use these funds to obtain those as well."
Obo looks at the lot of you expectantly to see if you have any questions or if you can be on your way, leaving him back to his game of siege.
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A tall long limbed woman in a dress that almost looks like flames themselves, strides into the room and takes a seat, setting down her bag and pulling out a small mirror to check her slightly heavy makeup and make sure it hasn't shifted. Ensured everything is okay, she turns and gives the room of men a look smiling as she goes. Her eyes alight on Bartolomey, and she sashays over to him. "My aren't you a tall and handsome one!" With a wink, she moves past him and into the circle around the venture captain. She listens for a few seconds, before asking "Any other information you can give us on Torvad or the Sacred Cobra, hate to walk into this with my skirt hitched up. Also, any idea of what might be causing that rash of piracy? That doesn't sound too good!"
Zailus then stops and pauses for a second in surprise. "Oh, my I never did introduce my self! I'm Zailus, Zailus el-Ishi, one of the most sensuous falcata fighters outside of Taldan." She ends the proud statement with a wink as she lays her hand on the handle of the weapon strapped to her hip.
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A barely 5 foot tall tiefling with dark bluish-grey skin, notable horns, red tatoos, and loose fitting robes followed the group into the lodge and took the seat furthest from the venture captain, her posture and slow movements betraying the breastplate she's attempting to hide under the robes. She carefully removed her longspear (complete with glowing demonic runes on it) and set it on the ground before sitting.
After hearing the mission report she nods, and speaks in a confident, two-toned, but oddly feminine demon voice. "What artifacts qualify as worthy of purchasing for the society? Anything with even a hint of magic is bad in the wrong hands. Does this mean we buy all of it?"
"Can we get more details on Shattered Shield?"
"How is the shattered shield magical?"
"The origins of the shield are shrouded in mystery. Some believe that the god Aroden carried it when he was a mortal, while others claim that it was fashioned by Aroden after he became a god. The Taldan general Arnisant carried the shield during the Shining Crusade, and it was instrumental in defeating the Whispering Tyrant—that's when it shattered. It is possible that even a fragment of the shield could be dangerous if used for nefarious ends."
"Does the Society, or Torvad for that matter, know who else would be interested in this shard?"
Obo chuckles. ”Well, as seasoned Pathfinders readily know, we’re constantly trying to recover important artifacts and relics before they are lost to villainous agents. No, we don’t as such know of any specific pursuers, but due to the manner of its impending sale, and a venue that wouldn’t exactly welcome the society, we can’t realistically expect good intentions from any of these bidders. If they aren’t putting it to immediate nefarious purposes, they’re likely willing to flip it for a profit to somebody else who would. We must get that shard.”
"Any other information you can give us on Torvad..."
"He wears a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and an old golden bracelet he found on some archaeological dig or other. Last I heard, he was a guest of Inusi Mendalari, a noblewoman from the Artisan's Souk in Azir, with a habit of 'collecting' artists and other intellectuals she thinks might benefit from her patronage. You could also look for anyone with his fingers jammed inside an ancient magical cookie jar. That's probably Torvad."
"... or the Sacred Cobra, hate to walk into this with my skirt hitched up..."
"Indeed! Though, I suspect you can keep your skirt as you please, well enough." He lets out a sheepish chuckle and winks at the bard before continuing.
"From what I've gathered, it's a brokerage for illegal divine artifacts and relics that moves its location throughout Azir every so often to keep the Pure Legion from discovering it. That's why we need Torvad. Only someone who travels in those circles would know where the Cobra has most recently set up shop."
"Also, any idea of what might be causing that rash of piracy? That doesn't sound too good!"
Obo curtly replies, ”These things come and go in cycles around any nation with reasonably robust trade. This is just one of those times. We practice cautious until it passes.”
"Oh, my I never did introduce my self! I'm Zailus, Zailus el-Ishi, one of the most sensuous falcata fighters outside of Taldan." She ends the proud statement with a wink as she lays her hand on the handle of the weapon strapped to her hip.
"Welcome, Zailus! I have a feeling you could do a good job working the auction room."
He then takes a moment to look more carefully around the table at all members of the party.
"Indeed, I have a good feeling about this group. I suspect you've got just the right talents to aim at this task."
You can't help but get a small, but material boost of confidence at the venture-captain's words.
"What artifacts qualify as worthy of purchasing for the society? Anything with even a hint of magic is bad in the wrong hands. Does this mean we buy all of it?"
Obo squints thoughtfully, putting his hand to his chin. ”Well, I suspect that judgement will benefit from adventuring experience that the lot of you surely have. Look out for items that might be particularly powerful to let go to the wrong hands. This is of course all relative to the range of items you find at auction. Don’t aim for all of them if it impedes your ability to get the shard, and any particularly powerful items.”
With the questions seeming to settle down, Obo nearly returns to the game on his desk before he suddenly starts, his eyes lighting up as he remembers something, presumably important.
"Members of the Pure Legion are Rahadoum's primary peacekeeping force, primarily charged with enforcing the nation's First Law, which prohibits religion in any form. You'd be wise not to carry any items of contraband such as holy symbols or religious artifacts into the city, as it's certain the Pure Legion will search you all before entering the city."
Styrian tries to recall if he knows anything about this shield.
[dice=Knowledge (religion or history)]1d20+8
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"He wears a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and an old golden bracelet he found on some archaeological dig or other. Last I heard, he was a guest of Inusi Mendalari, a noblewoman from the Artisan's Souk in Azir, with a habit of 'collecting' artists and other intellectuals she thinks might benefit from her patronage. You could also look for anyone with his fingers jammed inside an ancient magical cookie jar. That's probably Torvad."
Zailus gives a small laugh at the description. "He and his 'collector' certainly sound like a pair of people to meet! I"m looking forward to it!"
"Indeed! Though, I suspect you can keep your skirt as you please, well enough." He lets out a sheepish chuckle and winks at the bard before continuing.
Zailus gives him another once over and then gives him an approving look, before letting the man continue.
"From what I've gathered, it's a brokerage for illegal divine artifacts and relics that moves its location throughout Azir every so often to keep the Pure Legion from discovering it. That's why we need Torvad. Only someone who travels in those circles would know where the Cobra has most recently set up shop."
Zailus's coy smile dawns into a full grin as she taps the side of her nose. "Ah, a divine artifact black market! What a treat! Though I'll keep the info under lock and key."
"Welcome, Zailus! I have a feeling you could do a good job working the auction room."
Zailus gives a modest scoff at Obo's words. "Oh that's not true. I've only worked small rooms, though I did sell all 2,000 of those dull grey ioun stones. So I guess there is a glimmer of truth to that."
With the questions seeming to settle down, Obo nearly returns to the game on his desk before he suddenly starts, his eyes lighting up as he remembers something, presumably important.
"Members of the Pure Legion are Rahadoum's primary peacekeeping force, primarily charged with enforcing the nation's First Law, which prohibits religion in any form. You'd be wise not to carry any items of contraband such as holy symbols or religious artifacts into the city, as it's certain the Pure Legion will search you all before entering the city."
Zailus reaches into her dress and pulls out a small wooden songbird with rainbow tails. She sets it on the table and purses her lips. "Ah that's why those men were so insistant on patting me down at the docks! Here I thought it was because I was attractive. Luckily that had been in a place that most men wouldn't dare reach." She gives a second to pause to let the thought sink in before laughing. "I'm joking of course, I knew they were looking for religious items, that's why Tweetie was there in the first place. There might be a considerable amount of secret trade of smuggled religious items, but I ain't paying a fine for her or, worse, risk public humiliation, incarceration, or banishment." She gives her little songbird of Shelyn a caring look before glancing up at Obo and asking, "Hmm, would you be able to keep her safe while we're tracking down that shield splinter? Unless some one else wants to take care of my birdie?"
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"I'm not too keen on the auctions but I sure can play lookout or backup once we get to the auction house. I got no problem blending with those kinda people if I do say so myself." Gint grins, pulls a beautifully carved wooden and metal comb out of his pocket, and runs it through his grey streaked black hair.
"Hmm, would you be able to keep her safe while we're tracking down that shield splinter? Unless some one else wants to take care of my birdie?"
Obo kindly obliges. Absolutely, if that's what you wish. We can keep it secret and safe here at the lodge. It will be waiting for you when you return!
The caravan journey will take just under six days, the camels traveling roughly forty miles per day. Traveling this way provides protections against many of the dangers of the desert.
However, after only two days you’re overcome by a violent, electrical dust storm, leaving the caravan to circle and wait it out. Temporary shelter is setup from the caravan’s packed supplies.
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"How unfortunate! This dust storm definitely doesn't get along with my skin." She begins scratching, causing a large red rash to form across her left arm before shouting, this time in a third tone, higher than the rest, joins the others. "It's not use! We're just going to have to wait it out." As she calms down, the third tone slowly fades. "Just breath Nalaia. Just breath. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgement. Is there anything I can do to help?"
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Zailus takes out a long scarf and wraps it around her face in hopes of keeping the dry sand off her face. Shelyn above am I going to have to do some moisturizing after this!
Grumpy that the trip is ruining her beauty routine, Zailus perks up at the idea of going and helping someone. "We might as well go and see what's up. If the man needs help it'd be better we went and helped him. Our the storms going to dry our skins out like parchment inside or outside these caravans anyways."
Due to the storm you can only see a few feet away. It’s very difficult to tell where the sound are coming from.[/ooc]
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Zailus, all but her eyes covered in a scarf has a bit of trouble peering through the shifting sands but tries her best to listen the sounds that have been pointed out to her.
She gives a huff and bundles up further in her scarf, her voice severly muffled by the fabric and the strom. "Bloody sandstorm sucking the moisture from the air and maiking doing any dang thing impossible." She then waits for someone with better, uncovered ears to point out where to go.
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Gint flips up the collar on his shirt, pulls his cap further down over his eyes, and packs in a handfull of pellets into his pistol. He tries to get a lay of the land and...
A wide mischevious grin spreads across the small gnomes soot stained face.
"HA! Brace yourselves companions! She is a fierce storm, but I have danced with the likes of her before!"
With Bartolomey and Kyunjiro's finely-tuned ears, you get a strong sense of where the noise is coming from. Gint seems to have paid attention to the caravan's path before it stopped, remembering how some of the nearby land was laid out before the storm settled in the area. He quickly determines the safest path to head to the source, avoiding what would be treacherous steps into shallow ravines while blind in the sandstorm.
Just yards away from the source, the storm gets particularly violent. Kyunjiro's fur starts to stand up on end, making him look like the puffiest fox you've ever seen. Then, you start to see it. Little sparks of light-blue light here and there. Then, a sudden ZAP as a larger spark erupts at his tail, causing him to jump up to the height of his taller teammates! Now the whole party is experiencing similar charges and sparks, all around you in an unpredictable pattern. The sensation ranges from a slight itch to a sharp searing pain. Sometimes, when it strikes near your face you seem to lose vision for a few moments. Zailus even feels it through her scarf, making her lips numb.
This type of dust storm builds up stunning static charges, blinds travelers, and can even bowl over creatures.