25th of Pharast, 4718 ar
The three-day trip from Port Freedom on the Kaava Cutter has been calm and uneventful.
The Kaava Cutter, a naval vessel that regularly runs cargo and passengers between Eleder and Port Freedom, makes monthly stops in Pridon’s Hearth and is serving as convenient transport for you and your fellow travelers. The Captain is one Marley Manus, a capable young man.
The ship has stayed closed to the coastline amidst mutterings amongst the crew regarding the dark clouds that have been loitering a few miles out from shore. Apart from the dark clouds, the only inclement weather was a light rain on the second day. There's been no other threats.
In fact, there's been no distractions at all other than your fellow travelers.
Notable among them are the following:
Annabella Tullia, a half-elven cleric of Shelyn. She's garbed in a radiant red dress and a constant glower.
Gallio Menius, a human aristocrat. He's accompanied by about a dozen indentured laborers and it's clearly his first trip away from Eledar.
Mr. Blackwell, a sharply dressed human businessman. Traveling with six others that seem subservient to him, he's seemed reluctant to converse.
Umuzu, a Zenj woman that looks to be no stranger to the jungle.
Bavick Whiteriver, a halfling rogue dressed as a guide. He's a nimble fellow, sporting a rapier matching his diminutive size.
Rory of the Tiger Eye Monastery, a human ascetic. He's tall and his bronze skin is evidence of much time spent outdoors.
Yolar Sundigr a human cleric of Gozreh. He's tall and pale with blue eyes and long blonde hair filled with gray tied behind him.
Pai Throphentomp a gnomish bard. She's tall for a gnome, but Pai seems still to embody the otherwordly First-World air common to most all of her kind.
Tygrah and Ashlion a half-orc couple. The woman is tall, strong, and reserved. While her mate, though much shorter, seems to make up for it with his brash and boisterous air.
According to Captain Manus, you should be putting into Pridon's Hearth late this afternoon or early evening.
After coming aboard the Kaava Cutter rather abruptly just before its departure with the gnome you have come to know as Pai, the bronze-skinned Rory has maintained a fairly low profile—neither suspiciously aloof, nor obsequiously gregarious.
His appearance is distinctive, with the single long braid of jet black hair bound by a silver chain decorated with a folded hand motif setting off his perfectly symmetric countenance. His routine of performing Katas every dawn, shirtless at the prow of the ship, has also attracted some attention. Those of you paying attention may glean some additional insight into this enigmatic character.
Tygrah stands at the prow of the ship near Rory, gazing out at the distant terrain. Tall and imposing, the half-orc woman wears little but a scant top and loincloth of tiger fur, leaving much of her muscular green body exposed. The wind rustles her dark braids as the Kaava Cutter makes its way through the water.
At length, she steps down and approaches her companion, the shorter, much stouter Ashlion. "We have nearly arrived, husband. Our new home awaits us."
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"EXCELLENT!" Ashlion booms, taking Tygrah by the hand. "YOU. DANCING MAN! ARE YOU EXCITED TO ARRIVE?"
With his dark brown skin, long braids and sharply trimmed beard Ashlion makes a confusing sight. He's not very tall, so much so that his wife has several inches on him, but he is incredibly dense with large muscles all over. His laugh matches his physique, deep and loud and very noticeable when he finds something funny (which is often). He has been the (noisy) life and soul of the ship for the entire journey.
The halfling starts chatting up the aristocrat.
"G'day, your Lordship. Baron Menius, is it? Or Viscount? Y'heading to Pridon's Hearth? It's a buzzer of a place. Will ya be wanting ta see the bush? I can take ya there, yes I can. All'a me guests, the fancy and the plain, they rave about me tours, fair dinkum. There's good tucker, great sights, runs like Brigh's own clockwork, and naught to worry 'bout. Ain't lost one yet."
"Sir Menius," the rotund man corrects with a smile and a wipe of his perpetually perspiring brow.
"Uh, yes, very good," he says after attempting to parse Bavick's thick accent. "A tour, you say? I probably won't need a tour, but, um, yes, I might need someone to show me where my parcel is. A good-sized parcel, you understand, just outside of town. I'm going to raise papayas."
He seems quite proud of that fact.
"I had hoped to hire that woman," he says, indicating Umuzu. "But she is unavailable, heading out on another boat or some such thing."
Pai has spent the three day journey trying to get to know Umuzu as well as she can. The enigmatic Zenj woman seems the best source of information about the lands they are travelling to. Up until now her efforts have been rebuffed, but persistence is a quality well known to gnomes.
"So, where you headed when you get off the ship? I'm hoping to find a tavern where I can get the lay of the land. Maybe sing for my supper as it were. Do you know of any good places in town? Or is there just one place? How big of a place is it that we are going to anyways? Do they have more than one inn, or is it more of a one horse kind of town?"
Pai's excitable nature is suffused with anxiety about the journey almost being over. While not opposed to boats in the general sense, she has always preferred her ground to be, well, ground. Her questions come as such a rapid pace that it is hard to get a word in edgewise. A personality quirk that some might find endearing, while others find plain annoying.
"No worries, Sir, I can take ya to yer patch. New place, so just a walk to the farm is a bush trek!"
Bavick is happy at the prospect of having something to do. Seems a nice enough sort, maybe I'll get a decent tip out of it.
Somewhat taken aback by Ashlion’s sudden question, Rory recovers quickly and answers wryly, ”I doubt that anyone could match your level of enthusiasm, good sir, but yes, I am ready to be on solid ground again.”
Moving smoothly to focus the conversation back towards his traveling companion, Rory adds, ”I have not heard much of this place, Pridon’s Hearth, was it? I overheard that you are planning to make your new home here. What do you know of it?”
Something in the effusive gnome seems to strike a chord with the hardened woman.
"The Stone Hall," she says with a smile. "It is a 'one-horse' town, as you say. The Stone Hall is the only inn. I will be staying just the night. Tomorrow morning the Cobalt Eye sets out and I will be on it. A mapping expedition has hired me to lead them through the Laughing Jungle. I will not be back to Pridon's Hearth for a number of weeks."
She looks down at the inquisitive bard. "Stay in town and avoid the jungle, Little One, if you can. It doesn't forgive mistakes and they are easy to make out here."
"Perfect," the noble says with a nod, his chins wobbling up and down. "I just hope it gets a little cooler once we get out of this horrible sun."
At some point during the day, Rory approaches the priestess of Shelyn cautiously, waiting for a moment when they can speak somewhat privately.
”I have not had the pleasure to speak with you yet, Sister Tullia. May I have a moment?”. Rory waits respectfully for an answer, not intruding if he is unwelcome.
If she indicates he should continue, Rory will do so. ”I am no expert on religions in general or Shelyn in particular,” he begins, ”But most clergy of Shelyn exhibit a less burdened countenance. It pains me to see the distress evident on your face. Is there some way I can be of service, even if only to bring a smile to your face?”
"That's one of the problems with this gods-forsaken country," the woman complains. "No one seems to know or appreciation anything. First off, I'm a priestess; not a sister. I'm clergy. I lead services. I educate the masses." She takes a deep breath.
"Oh, who am I kidding? No one in this part of the world even knows what art is much less wants to learn to distinguish between a Shambúl and a Tartick-Mullens."
"In answer to your question, Sir, it would make me happy if you could promise me that the average intelligence of Pridon's Hearth is greater then that of a turnip."
She stands looking at you, with her arms crossed and one foot tapping on the deck.
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”My deepest apologies, priestess,” offers Rory. ”As you have so astutely observed, I am unfamiliar with more than the basics of your faith. As to the comparative intelligence between any number of vegetables and the people of Pridon’s Hearth, I cannot speak from firsthand experience, as I have never been there before.”
Pausing for a moment to compose his thoughts, Rory adds, ”But that does not mean that I cannot be of some small service to you, fair priestess. For what is art, if not the appreciation of beauty? And there is beauty all around us, if we care to look,” he says, sweeping his arm to encompass their surroundings.
”To Yolar, priest of Gozreh, is not the sea itself a vast expanse of beautiful sights and sounds? To my friend Pai, the look of wonder on a small child’s face when he first hears the mellifluous melody she sings is beauty incarnate. To a wandering soul like me, the radiance of a pretty lass’ smile is like the finest painting of the sun emerging from dark clouds.”
Turning to face her directly, Rory finishes, ”But to find beauty, we must look for it—in others and in ourselves. If we expect to find only ugliness, that is what we will see at every turn. Choose wisely, fair priestess, how you would approach your task with the good people of Pridon’s Hearth.”
Tygrah shrugs at Rory's questions. "It is far away from where we have come. That is enough for us."
She turns to look at the priestess when Ashlion asks about her. "Don't know. She is cleric of pretty goddess. Maybe she is mad that she is not pretty like me. Turnips... They are a food, I think. They grow in the ground."
Yolar stands on deck breathing in the salt air of the sea. His long hair and beard blows in the breeze. His arms are folded across his chest with a weathered, but well-maintained trident balanced in the crook of one arm.
Answering Rory, "Yes, it is beautiful. And the sound of the sea is like the softest bed when I lay down to sleep."
"I see you are a follower of Irori. That is good...you will need all of your strength in this place. This place we go to is civilization, but not far from the not so civilized jungle."
He pauses, "Forgive me...I am not used to being around so many people like this, so I forget my manners. I am Yolar.", he says with a slight nod of his head.
Yolar has not spoken to many people on the boat, but he has noticed the crew speaking softly about the dark clouds in the sky.
"Thank you for confirming my assumption, Yolar. Your appreciation of the sea borders on the poetic. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." Cocking his head to the side, he considers the man before him, venturing a question, "What do you hope to find in Pridon's Hearth?"
At Ashlion's 'whispered' comment, Annabella raises one eyebrow and tips her head in the half-orc's direction as if to say, 'See how my point is proved?'
"So, you're not a turnip, I see," she says at Rory's treatise on beauty. "I will admit that I'm surprised to find someone so well spoken, out ..." She waves one hand vaguely around. "... here."
Her delicate lips turn up in a slight smile. A smile it may be, but it doesn't seem to carry much warmth. "Well spoken, and perhaps possessing more confidence than is warranted if the man chooses to instruct a priestess of the Eternal Rose on the nature of beauty." She raises an eyebrow. "I see beauty in many things, sir. And I choose to reflect that beauty in my sculptures and my paintings for others to share. I also see ugliness in many places."
Her smile vanishes to be replaced with what seems to be her default expression - a glower.
"I see it in ignorance, in stupidity, in boorishness, rudeness, brashness." She shakes her head. "I only hope that I may bring a little beauty here and that it might be appreciated. I expect to be disappointed."
She turns to look out over the sea and at the dark clouds hiding the declining sun.
"So, you're not a turnip, I see," she says at Rory's treatise on beauty. "I will admit that I'm surprised to find someone so well spoken, out ..." She waves one hand vaguely around. "... here."
Rory knows a dismissal when he sees it...It was ever thus when the priests at the temple grew tired of his questions, or the monks could no longer hide their frustration at his lack of competence. "Still," he thinks, "she used the word 'hope' in her response, even if her attitude remains dour. Perhaps I made a small difference after all."
He turns back to the others to hear their conversation, eventually moving towards Pai to see what she may have found out about their destination and any attendant opportunities for earning a bit of coin.
"Thank you for confirming my assumption, Yolar. Your appreciation of the sea borders on the poetic. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." Cocking his head to the side, he considers the man before him, venturing a question, "What do you hope to find in Pridon's Hearth?"
"Peace and quiet, I hope. A chance to hear the rain on a lonely beach or in the quiet jungle. It's a small colony, so perhaps like-minded people will be there too. The cities can be so noisy."
Bavick watches the exchange and determines that it is best to steer clear of the Shelynite.
Takes herself too seriously, that one.
He goes over to talk to Mr. Blackwell.
"Crikey, she's up herself. And where might yer band be going? Bit of walkabout? Need a lad who knows the sights to see and the telling of tales? I'm showing Sir Menius to his Papapya-Patch but if ya be wanting to go bush I can take ya there too. What brings ya to Pridon's Hearth?"
The well-dressed man waits a moment before giving the friendly halfling a response.
"Myself and my team will be surveying the mineral potential around the village," he says in a smooth voice without elaboration. He looks over the rogue as if assessing his mineral potential before turning away.
Hmmm... this one's worth keeping an eye on. Mineral potential, like the gold and silver in a purse or pocket?
”May you find the peace you seek,” he responds quietly to Yolar, then Rory walks back over to Pai as they approach the dock. ”So, what have you found out? Are there rustic townsfolk in need of entertainment with coin to spend in our near future?” he asks her hopefully.
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Pai smiles as Rory approaches. "I finally cracked the woody exterior of that Zenj. Took me long enough. The township we travel to is small but that might be good for us. Less people for you to make angry." She fixes him with a stare that is 88% jest, but is founded in a kernel of truth.
"Anyways, sounds like The Stone Hall will need to be our first stop. Hopefully they are in need of an evening entertainer or two. I say we start with The Ballad of the Emerald Shuriken and see where the night takes us. Might manage to earn some coin, or at the very least a place to sleep off anything we drink. Best case scenario we find a patron that will help us find our way into whatever passes for the upper echelon way out here."
She smiles brightly, a funny idea occurring to her mind. "Who knows, you might find someone to 'practice your katas' with."
Rory smiles good-naturedly at Pai’s jest. ”Most excellent, my friend. And, yes, perhaps I should ease off on the audience participation for awhile after our recent...incident.”
Casting a glance towards the half-Elven priestess, Rory adds, ”I had poorer luck with the priestess of Shelyn—though I’ll take it as a point of pride that I got a small smile from her, I doubt she will be inviting me to pose for her sculptures anytime soon...”
"Who knows, maybe with the help of your patron you could win her over after a time." Pai reaches up to the full span of her arm and hops to playfully/disrespectfully flick the blue-silver folded hand that hangs from the tie in his braid. It swings through the air, catching the light.
"After all, adherents of Irori and Sheyln have often found common ground on the basis of beauty and the 'perfected human form'; even if Irorites sometimes tend to take themselves too seriously."
She smiles winningly, it is clear to all around that Pai has accepted Rory as a friend, even though he is not one of the first-folk.
"Enough talk of religion though. The Accidental God demands action! How much longer until we make landfall do you think? My canteen is empty and my patron desires that I drink an offering."
As the sun finally drops below the dark clouds to the west to begin to set, you finally gain sight of the village of Pridon's Hearth. Situated on the river delta mouth of the Lower Korir River (known by the locals as the Little Tiger River). The village occupies numerous small islands connected by small makeshift wooden bridges as well as a walled section on the mainland. Primarily composed of wooden buildings, there are a few stone structures visible.
The river is very shallow near the village. Too shallow, in fact, for a ship the size of the Kaava Cutter. You are all going to be ferried over to the village's docks in longboats. Sir Gallio Menius announces that he and some of his indentured servants will be on the first boat along with some of his personal possessions.
Rory, Pai, Yolar, Bavick, Tygrah and Ashlion are loaded into the second boat. As you approach the village, the scents and sounds of the nearby greenery begin to intrude upon your senses. Hot, humid air, fish, and trees - lots of trees.
As you disembark the boat on to the ramshackle dock, you hear an argument between Sir Menius and what appears to be a grizzled looking local man.
"You should be getting out of this land, ya filthy leech!" The man swings with a right hook and knocks Gallio to the deck planks, looking more shocked than injured. The swaying man ends his tirade by smashing the bottle he holds against a sturdy dock pylon. The bottle shatters, leaving him holding a vicious spike of serrated glass. "And if yer not gonna leave... then I guess it’s up to me to make ya!"
Pai, aware of the man's inebriation, decides to ignore it for the time being in the effort to make a friend. She sidles up to the local man with a cheery smile on her face, apparently oblivious to the threatening looking bottle in his hand.
"*Laughter* That's a good right hook you have there friend! And this...leech...as you called him is certainly worthy of it. 3 days on a boat you know he didn't pay me once for my singing? The nerve."
"I just arrived as you can see, and I am hoping to find a friend to guide Rory and me around town. I heard that there is a place nearby called the Stone Hall where we could wet our whistles if the need arose. If you take me there then your first drink of the night will be on me. What do you say?"
She jingles her coin purse a little, in a provocative manner.
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The man looks down at the pink-haired figure at his side and shakes his head as if trying to clear his vision. He steps around the half-orc as well. "Gonna get rid of the leech," he slurs.
Not knowing what is going on between these two, Yolar freezes. He grips his trident tightly. "My lord Gozreh", he mutters to himself, "you test me with this storm of short tempers..."
Rory smoothly steps up beside Ashlion, further blocking the drunk's path to Sir Menius, saying, "Back off!"
Tygrah stands behind Ashlion, silently flexing and posing.
Bavick draws his sap and steps between the drunk and Sir Menius.
"Listen to sense. This man just wants to grow papayas. He didn't harm you none. No need for there to be trouble."
The man attempts to move around Ashlion and the half-orc matches his movements. He finally seems to notice the muscles arrayed against him and stumbles back, his eyes widening a little.
"Wasn't gonna hurt'm. Just done w'leeches," he slurs out and drops his broken bottle into the water. He stumbles back against one of the pylons and slides down to sit on the dock.
"Theos, what are you doing now?" a new voice calls out. You turn to see a woman approaching. She's garbed in a worn uniform and is accompanied by two burly men wielding clubs.
She eyes you all suspiciously and looks with concern at the drunk man leaning against the dock pylon.
"You've got this, Pai" says Rory.
"No problems here, ma'am," he starts out, looking encouragingly at Pai.
Pai smiles back at Rory, stepping forward to meet the new comer.
"Hi! I'm Pai. We just arrived on the boat out there, and were running into some trouble getting past your border guard here." She winks at the woman who is obviously someone that passes for an authority.
"He seems to take issue with one of the passengers of the ship, a man come to claim a plot of land, I guess? Anyways. We were hoping to get on dry land without there being too much of a border inspection."
Tygrah stands behind Ashlion and drapes her arms over his shoulders. "Barely off the boat and we've already almost got into a brawl. I think I'm going to like this place!" The half-orc woman grins toothily.
Yolar relaxes a bit. He glances at Pai...glad to have her around to explain the situation. That might come in handy if this is their first taste of this "supposedly" sleepy colony.
Bavick is not a particularly smooth talker outside of his 'professional' setting, so he helps up Sir Menius and listens as Pai and Rory explain things.
Bavick also keeps an eye on Mr. Blackwell and his 'associates'. How do they react to this disturbance?
He'll whisper to Sir Menius, "Check yer gold, mate. And have yer fellas make sure the bags are all there."
"I'm Adaela Praet," the woman says introducing herself. "I'm the sheriff here." She looks you all over again and gathers herself. "I want to apologize. I had hoped to be here earlier to greet you properly on behest of Count Narsus and to prevent ... misunderstandings ... like this." She glances down at the man sitting near her.
With a gesture towards him, she says to the men accompanying her, "Go put him in a cell until he sobers up. You'll have to forgive Theos," she continues, turning back to you. "He's a good man, he's just ... going through a tough time."
"He hit me and then was going to attack me with a broken bottle!" Sir Menius says in protest, rubbing his ample posterior. "I demand justice!"
Adaela cringes a bit. "We'll handle Theos," she says. "I assure you that he won't go unpunished. He's just ... he lost both his wife and child last month and it's been hard on him. I do thank you for dealing with him without resorting to violence."
A light rain begins to patter down upon the wooden planks of the dock.
"How about I show you where you can stay tonight and I'll buy you breakfast tomorrow?"
The sheriff waits another ten minutes for the final boat to arrive bearing Umuzu, Annabella, and Mr Blackwell and his associates.
She leads you through the section of town that she refers to as 'Island Town' and across one of the longer bridges to the mainland. "The 'Island Towners' refer to us as the 'Walled-In'," she says with some humor as she approaches one of the very few stone buildings. "This is the the Stone Hall. It was the first stone building of Pridon's Hearth. It serves as our de-facto town hall as well as the only inn and tavern for a couple of hundred miles in any direction."
She leads you inside and out of the increasing rain and introduces you to Tomas Longroad, a genial-looking halfing who is bustling across the crowded common room carrying a basket of yeasty smelling bread.
"Good to meet ya'll," he says. "Stayin' here I'magine 'till ya get ya'own places s'usual? I'll be back in'a moment" He waves the basket meaningfully and heads off to some locals sitting at a table.
Tygrah smirks as she sees the construction of the building. She grins down at Bavick and Pai. "Looks like you two will fit right in here! The rest of us are going to have to duck!"
Once inside, she breathes deeply, the smell of bread making her stomach gurgle. "Mmm, I'm hungry! Come husband, let us get something to eat. And then afterwards, we can break in the beds the proper way!"
Investigating his rather slim coin pouch, Rory asks his friend, ”Pai, do you think that we will be able to get enough people in the house to make some coin tonight? My funds are running a bit light after our last misadventure.”
Bavick doesn't notice anything about the building until it is pointed out to him by Tygrah.
"Hmm. Right you are."
He is also happy to see a fellow halfling in Tomas Longroad.
Feeling a bit more comfortable, he starts to confide in his fellow travelers. And he eases up a bit on the lingo.
"Nice goin' there, Pai. I'm Bavick Whiteriver. You seem all right at talkin' to the longshanks. Didja talk at all to Blackwell? Feels like him and his boys ain't what they say."
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Once inside, she breathes deeply, the smell of bread making her stomach gurgle. "Mmm, I'm hungry! Come husband, let us get something to eat. And then afterwards, we can break in the beds the proper way!"
"YES! FOOD FIRST! AND THEN BED BREAKING!" Ashlion seems delighted by this prospect and tucks in heartily.
- Pai is too busy taking in all of the new sights to notice the peculiar construction of the in.
"My thought too Rory. Na'an always said 'there is more currencies in the world than just coin'. Let's see what we can make happen."
As the innkeep makes the rounds back to their table, she flags him down. "Greetings Friend! My companion and I are very pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Pai Throphentomp. This is Rory. Together we perform for the entertainment and coin of patrons of fine establishments such as this. Do you already have entertainment contracted each night? If not, I would be very interested in discussing how our acquaintance can blossom into an arrangement of mutual benefit."
Laying the charm on thick, she winks at the halfling proprietor.