For the moment please ninja dot
A candied aroma wafts from multiple barrels of pyment—a beverage of fermented grapes and honey—strewn about the surprisingly barren grand hall of Manaket’s Swordmeet 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.
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 precisely 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.”
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A lithe half-elf, whose right arm has been replaced by a construction of organic-looking metal, speaks up.
"So we need to find Torvad, convince him to tell us where the auction is, give us his banner, and then win the Shard at auction, snagging whatever other choice items we can, along the way. Sounds *relatively* straight-forward..."
Too straight-forward. I wonder what the catch will be...?
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Into the briefing walks a young dwarf. At least appearing to be a well trained, well drilled professional soldier. For a dwarf, he is of average height with a lithe build and moves quietly when he walks. His clothes, chosen for subtlety, are a dark mottling of grey, black and tan colors. Hung from his belt are a black metal battleaxe and a finely crafted warhammer. Slung over his back is a bedroll and backpack. His dark brown hair and beard are an impressive length, but always secured tightly by brown leather ties.
He sits as the VC plays with his toys, briefly wondering if this is a battlemap of some sort but then confirming it is likely a game due to the lack of a battlemap and then the VC's own admission. He listens quietly to the briefing.
He pipes up, "Khargrom's the name, happy to be here. This sneakin' and descreet kinda thing defnitly fits me more than fighting orcs in an open field, I'm in! So, what kinda other bidders we gonna have to uh... outbid." He emphasizes the last word to indicate he certainly understands that other pressures might be needed beyond simply winning a bid.
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Tusk, who lives up to his name, snarls at the dwarf. "Or fighting dwarves in the mountains. Though I hope there is some fighting involved or I should join a different party."
Tusk, two-blade has a nice big Orc double axe and a sturdy breastplate decorated (if you can call it that) with bone fragments.
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Brain clicking into quickly making a plan, Khargrom has to force himself to stop analyzing weaknesses and target points, reminding himself that a fellow pathfinder is a fellow pathfinder, regardless of their ancestry.
He tries to defuse the snarling half-orc, "hah, see you don't want to fight us either!" Whether or not the odd response resonates the way intended, he offers his hand out for a handshake, "truce? I promise I'll get us into plenty of trouble we'll need to fight our way outta."
The venture captain looks at you, as if expecting questions.
Also he looks at the board as if he is half minded with a problem there.
You can do a DIPLOMACY (GATHER INFORMATION) OR KNOWLEDGE (HISTORY, LOCAL, OR RELIGION) check to learn more about Rahadoum.
@Kent finds out that Azir is the capital city of Rahadoum. The entire nation upholds a series of philosophical tenets known as the Laws of Man, the primary tenet of which is known as the First Law, which prohibits religion in any form. The country adopted these laws following decades of religious wars and maintains a peacekeeping force known as the Pure Legion to enforce them.
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The dwarf shrugs at the barbarian, "we'll make do somehow."
He then nods at the information Kent shares and tries to recall something about the area.
He shares anything he remembers and asks the VC a couple questions, "alright, what's this shard supposed to be looking like? Any descriptions known? And about our contact, er... Torvad you said? Where can we find him and is there anything we need to know about him before we make our case? Like uh, does he love a certain rare kind of jam that if we brought him a case he'd be a lot happier to help us or something?"
@Khargrom also knows that:
Where people outside of Rhadoum hold a place in society for religion, most Rahadoumi hold a deep respect for rhetoric and philosophy. As a result, most Rahadoumi are well-educated, promote civic-minded behavior, and place a high value on self-discipline and familial loyalty.
Looking at Khargrom the captain shrugs.
"Like a piece of a shattered shield?"
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The young half-elf dressed in red, green and gold with the holy symbol of Sheyln walks in with his glaive strapped to his back. With a nod of the head which has a beret on it, in the same colors, he winks and says, Hi! I am Riceak Hawklight of the Church of Shelyn. I am sorry I am late he offers his hands which look like they have the remains of plaster on them.
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Khargrom beams as the friendly looking charismatic half-elf introduces himself, "aha! There we go. They never send us on these missions without a pretty face to do the talkin'."
He looks at the VC, collects and secures the bank notes into his pack and nods, "best be on our way then. Can't miss the caravan."
If you are ready to depart, the curtain closes to the introduction.
The curtain opens for ACT 1:
Manaket lies approximately 225 miles east of Azir. It takes the you just under 6 days by camel (at a rate of 40 miles per day) to reach the capital city. While the caravan offers protection from most of the dangers of the journey, a violent electrical dust storm catches the caravan while it is still 2 days out from Manaket.
A neverending wave of fine gritty sand envelops you and you feel as if your flesh is grinded off your bones. The sound is cacaphonous and eyesight almost nonexistant.
Please roll for Perception.
Kent did hear someone in distress. Now how to pinpoint the poor one.
You can make progress with a successful DC 19 Knowledge (geography), Knowledge (nature), Perception, or Survival check.
Recap round 2:
Together the pathfinders are able to pinpoint the sound.
Round 3:
This type of dust storm builds up stunning static charges, blinds travelers, and can even bowl over creatures. The PCs can evade or withstand the shocks with a successful DC 16 Acrobatics check, DC 16 Ride check (if mounted), combat maneuver check against CMD 15, or DC 13 Fortitude save
@ Vuldruk please explain how you reach a combat maneuver bonus (blank) of 18? This was not a CMD check ;-)
Round 2 recap.
The Pathfinder manage to brave the storm through pure resiliency and skill.
You found a dwarven women buried in the sand.
She seems to be in very bad shape, but still concious.
Up to three pcs can aid the dwarven women with a heal check DC 16
Khargrom does manage to clean some dust from her mouth, she is about to suffocate and fall unconcious.
2 more can try.
Kazima Rufah is a dwarven woman with dark eyes, deep brown skin, and long braids of hair decorated with horn beads. She exhibits an intellectual and reserved nature. She wears a suit of vented plate mail
tinged blue and embossed with the sigil of Rahadoum—an ornamental shield inscribed with the Laws of Man, bearing two hands with the palms facing out—over a red tunic and bronze-hued pantaloons.
Asyou bring her to the shelter, she speaks; “To help a stranger in a world where no greater reward can be guaranteed is a noble, dying thing.”