The journey from Absalom to Sargava is mostly uneventful - the most excitement coming from being blown slightly off course by a squall spun off from the Eye of Abendego. Then the walking began to the small town of Fort Bandu, where a contingent of Pathfinders had been summoned regarding the work of one Venture-Captain Nieford Sharrowsmith. The long trip, while taxing, does provide plenty of time for the agents to get to know one another.
Ignoring his master's musings, the vicious little dinosaur leaps onto Tere's back, and starts rummaging though the elf's rucksack, in search for the tasty tidbits usually found there.
Shredder snatches the jerky in midair, and the runs to a corner or devour it.
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Screaming in terror as razor sharp teeth are within inches of his pretty face Thran sounds like a little girl before he realizes his face isn't going to get chewed off.
"...the flash backs, the flash backs..."
Thrans whole body rocks as he composes himself again after getting rid of some bad daydreams (daymares?) about facing endless hordes of undead and being covered in blood and gore for what felt like days.
"You shouldn't scare experienced combat veterans like that"
I could have reacted on instinct and cut you in half with my mighty falchion...yeah, that's what could have happened... Thran mutters to himself
..and nothing about soiling my pants in pure terror..
Thran shakes his head as if shaking off a bad memory before looking up at his companions and at his surroundings
"Uhrm...what are we doing here again?'
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"Good lungs there. We'll know when you need help."
The second half-orc chuckles, looking at the adorable bundle of claws and teeth. Definitely just as deadly as an ogre at half the size.
"No idea what they called on us for. Suppose they like keeping us in suspense."
Banon looks the rest up and down, noting weapons and armor.
"Rest of you look capable of handling yerselves. Told I'm keeping an eye on a junior agent, mage of some kind."
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The elf nods. "It is too late for me to stop now, though."
In answer to Banon, Tere nods again in agreement. "It is odd that we do not get some sort of briefing, so I suppose that is being left for the local Venture-Captain." He frowns. "My first mission--at least, I think it was my first mission, though I have recently come to have some doubts--involved no briefing until the Key was about to be activated."
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A short, stocky bald dwarf in full plate armour comes jogging into the briefing. His skin is tanned from long hours travelling the roads and byways of Golarion. He bears a simple butterly symbol on his shield. Err, hello he says, a little uncertainly. I was told to report here for a journey into the Expanse. Sounds exciting, I've never been there before. My last mission was into a horrible old tomb full of ghosts and worse. It will be good to feel the sun and wind on my face again.
He looks outside at the sun baking the ground rock hard. Although having Desna's blessings makes the trip a touch more comfortable than might otherwise be the case... he adds with a grin.
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An odd looking fellow with a wizard's pointy hat sitting jauntily off center slowly wakes from what seems to have been a long nap. "Well that was quite some trip, now wasn't it? Though I can't believe I slept through my chance to see the Eye of Abendego! How many years have I been waiting to see it? And then, a bit of a nap, and suddenly here we are in this weary hot place! 'See the world,' they said, 'have adventures,' they said - well I reckon I expected something a bit more exotic than this Fort Bandu. But I suppose that adventurers can't be choosy! Anyhow, good to meet you all. Jethro's the name."
The little dinosaur abandons his toying with Thran to bound over to the wizard. He looks at the hat, cocking his head one way, and then the next. He sniffs at the wizard, his talon tap, tap, tapping on the floor.
As the Pathfinders arrive in Nantambu in the Mwangi Expanse, they are directed to Sharrowsmith’s Exports, a walled trade compound on the northern edge of the city. The reputable merchant and ally of the Society Aya Allahe greets them and escorts them to one of the back rooms before pacing restlessly.
“I wish I had more to offer,” Allahe apologizes before even presenting what information she has. “Nieford Sharrowsmith never truly retired from being a Pathfinder, even after he started this business. I think, in his mind, he was still the young adventurer that hiked through jungles and fought off troglodyte tribes. Sharrowsmith’s attitude changed over the last few months—I think he was concerned for his legacy and how history would remember him. Would it be for his discoveries or for the export business that dominated his later years? The answer, I fear, was unpalatable.
“It was no surprise when he packed up and left on an expedition. But that was months ago, and neither the Society nor I have heard from him since. Sharrowsmith has never left for this long without leaving some word as to his status or sending rather demanding missives about business decisions while he was waist-deep in some jungle bog. When my own contacts failed to turn up any useful information, I had no recourse but to go through his private notes.” Allahe motions to the mess of documents scattered about the office.
“What caught my eye was this translated rubbing. It appears to be the most recent piece of a very large puzzle Sharrowsmith was researching and indicated that he may be somewhere in the Bandu Hills. Traders from Fort Bandu have confirmed that he paid the garrison a visit, but that’s where my trail ran cold. Something happened out there, and Praetor Sylien—Fort Bandu’s commander—refuses to correspond with me on the matter despite knowing how close Nieford and I are. All I received in response was that Nieford had ‘done enough damage for one lifetime,’ and that if I wanted to discuss the matter further I would need to go to Fort Bandu in person.” Exasperatedly, Allahe runs a hand across her forehead and turns her distant stare out the window. “I cannot shutter the business and travel hundreds of miles on the off chance that the praetor can help; the company would fall apart. I’m hoping that you will be able to go in my stead, speak with the praetor personally to learn what has befallen Sharrowsmith and help him return.” She passes a copy of the translated rubbing to the Pathfinders and folds her hands. "I am happy to offer what little knowledge I might have on the matter and surrounding area."
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Jethro listens to the briefing from Aya with concern. "So you mean a Venture Captain is lost somewhere out there - " he gestures out the window towards the vast expanse of the Mwangi - "and you want us to go find him? Well that should be easy. I can't imagine anything could possibly go wrong!"
Reviewing the rubbing, Jethro wracks his mind to recall anything he may have ever learned that would be relevant to this mission. "Ashkurhall, Ashkurhall, where have I heard that name before...?"
"Fort Bandu is the only safe place in the Bandu hills," Aya replies. "Granted, the Expanse isn't known for safety - but the Bandu Hills have a dozen ways to kill before accounting for living creatures: heat, dehydration, landslides, poisonous and carnivorous plants, and so on." She shakes her head, then continues. "Unfortunately, the surrounding lands are also sick with riches like diamonds, gold, and silver - an embarrassment of wealth that only attracts more dangerous occupants. I am surprised that Sharrowsmith didn't settle down there, to be honest."
"As for the Praetor, I know him only by reputation. The grandson of an old elven explorer, he's served the garrison for decades, though I hear he's mostly retired now. My business associates say he is a fair and very pragmatic man, one who respects hard facts and truth. His being dismissive of my request sounds uncharacteristic."
"And to be honest, I've never heard of a mountain in the region named Nakyuk. Perhaps it was an older name lost to time?" She shrugs apologetically.
"Can I answer any other questions?" Aya asks. "Or perhaps you'd be interesting in purchasing anything for the journey?"
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Jethro agrees with Banon. "The Bandu Hills are no place for an ice cube, that's for sure."
He glances out the window at the hills beckoning to them. "There's gold in them thar hills, and silver and gems too. The local tribes ain't too fond of the prospectors who come a-looking fer it, 'n they ain't above gittin violent if need be. The biggest o' the mining operations is the Deeptreasure Mining Company. The Gold Crown Company used to be their biggest competitor but nowadays they's mainly focused on shipping n' export. From what I hear, the Deeptreasure folks is always interested in hiring independent miners, but then they steer them away from the best claims with bullying. They's got a representative in Fort Bandu - mebbe we should pay him a visit? - I hear he's offering a bounty for good information about promising mining sites - he might know something about where Sharrowsmith mighta been headed..."
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"Yes, it will get a little warm up there. And we should expect kobolds, or goblins and hobgoblins. I am not too worried."
Starting the next day, Alaric will memorize endure elements casting it twice for himself and Shredder. "If you have a pearl of power, I can cast it for you as well." he offers anyone who will listen.
"Oh, I've got just the thing!" Aya says happily as she pulls out a drawer of pearls and other gems. "They're sorted by relative power - pick one and I'll let you know the market price." As Thran investigates, she turns back to Jethro. "I'm afraid Sharrowsmith didn't tell me much about what he was working on when he left. His notes say the rubbing was made by miners in the Bandu Hills over sixty years ago, and it found its way to him through auctions he frequented. Whatever he read there, it lit a fire under him."
"I've arranged for some merchants to transport you by boat down the Vanji River," Aya says, frowning as she spies Shredder. "Nobody mentioned a dinosaur, so I suppose we'll just have to hope there's enough space on board for everyone. You'll have to switch to canoes once you reach the Little Vanji River so you can paddle upstream, then walk through some of the lower Bandu Hills to reach the Fort."
"And from what I can tell, Sharrowsmith is traveling alone," she replies to Tere. "In his youth, he always did so - but with his bad back recently, he needs teamsters to carry equipment and scribes to help with field research. But it's quite out of character for Sharrowsmith to embark without staff. I think he felt like he had something to prove."
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The Pathfinders set out down the river, Aya waving goodbye as they leave Nantambu. The merchants (a pair of half-elves named Killi and Tuuli) are happy for the company and show everyone the finer points of river sailing. With such compact trade goods like spices and manufactured products as its cargo, the barge has plenty of space for everyone (including Shredder).
After several days of sailing, the merchants wave farewell as the Pathfinders head up the Little Vanji River in canoes. Traveling on the water helps keep the oppressive heat of the region at bay, but flow of water means non-stop paddling for three days. After banking their canoes and trekking through relatively-cleared trails for another day, the Pathfinders finally arrive at Fort Bandu.
The fort is a small frontier settlement surrounded by high stone walls. As the Pathfinders approach, a horn sounds from a watchtower and a guard opens the gate. "Hail, travelers!" she says with a wave. "Who might you be, and what brings you all the way out here?"
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Incidentally, Tere is a tall, slender, pale-haired, laconic elf. The hilt of a curve blade protrudes over one shoulder, and he carries a cased longbow as well. It seems that he has gone to some considerable effort to ensure that he wears or carries nothing that may offer even a stray gleam of reflected light, and he moves nearly silently.
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After picking up his pearl and loaning it to someone who uses it to (re-)cast another endure elements Thran sighs with relief
'That's much..much better, thanks. I'm sure it's not just the cooling effect of being near water that's effecting me like this."
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As Telka speaks to the guard Thran nods as he waits for the guards response.
"Allehe? That would mean..." The guard's voice trails off before she inhales sharply. "Pathfinders." Her demeanor, relaxed before, becomes cold and professional. "This way." She gestures with her spear through the gates and escorts the party from behind through crowded streets to a small building next to the garrison. The air is thick with tension. The guard knocks twice and opens the door. "Praetor?" she calls inside. "Some Pathfinders here to see you." She almost spits the word.
The praetor's office is a modest and utilitarian space. Several tables and a handful of half-stocked bookshelves stand against the wall, leaving plenty of space for a war table featuring a map of the Bandu Hills in the center of the room. The three tall windows let in a great deal of natural sunlight, illuminating the two men inspecting the map - one an older elf in sensible, lightweight armor, and the other a lanky Garundi man in fine attire. Their conversation stops abruptly, and the praetor’s guest disdainful glares at the latest arrivals. “Pathfinders. I shouldn’t be surprised. Only your organization would have the gall to so brazenly show its face when you’ve already caused so much damage.”
“Pathfinders,” the praetor’s voice lacks the contempt of his guest, as if trying
to subtly apologize for his tone. “This is Amersanus Valacosti of the Aspis Consortium. We’ve been discussing the troubles Fort Bandu has faced of late - troubles caused by your organization. I was unwilling to disclose the details to Mistress Allahe by courier, but now that you have arrived, I feel it pertinent to explain the nature of Fort Bandu’s... misgivings. Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith came through here some months ago, gathering supplies and information before setting off on an expedition into the hills. There, he roused the local kobold tribes and angered them enough that they now actively raid our settlements and mining operations.
“Amersanus Valacosti and I were discussing how the Aspis Consortium may be able to help repair the damage your Society has inflicted on the people of Fort Bandu. Now that you’ve arrived, perhaps we can have a more balanced mediation. Your Pathfinder Society has a damaged reputation in the Bandu Hills, so I ask you state your business and why you think I should allow you to even so much as stay within the fort’s walls. What knowledge do you have of this land and its people that could prevent this situation from deteriorating further? I will only entertain questions regarding Sharrowsmith once I’m assured that providing you information will not further endanger my charges.” He crosses his arms and nods politely, his face open. Amersanus sneers, but holds his tongue.
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Telka looks over to Thran and gives him the you've got this look. He waits, ready to help the silver tongued half orc if he needs it.
Muttering under his breath he says, Aspis, bah, you can't trust the damned snakes
Beheading the Serpent: You struck a terrible blow to the Aspis Consortium. You can include a copy of this Chronicle sheet among the records of as many of your PCs as you like, though those PCs gain no access to the other boons, equipment, or wealth from this Chronicle sheet. This boon imposes a –1 penalty on the attack rolls, damage rolls, skill checks, and saving throws of all Aspis Consortium agents and hirelings she encounters (this penalty is not cumulative with other copies of the boon).
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"So, Praetor," starts Alaric. "While I do not doubt that your town has seen some issues from the kobolds, how do we know that it was Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith that 'caused' the problem?
"I hope you are not basing this merely on the word of Master Valacosti, as it would seem that he might have an interest in discrediting our Society. Be that as it may, we are willing to head up along Sharrowsmith's path, and try and calm down the little 'dragons'." He says this last with scorn on his lips.
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Seeing some of the other party members looking in is direction"..so it's up to me?" Thran thinks to himself.
Thran politely coughs to loosen up his voice and says;
"I would surely hope you won't hold someone else actions against something we ourselves haven't even done yet. I can vouch that it's not our intention to cause any harm. Give us a chance, we might surprise you. and if we are able we'll put a stop to those raiding kobold parties"
The praetor sighs. "Spare me your assurances, pretty as they may be," he chides Thran. "And I would advise you to watch where you throw accusations without proof, especially against a guest who has already begun helping to clean up the situation. So I ask again: what knowledge do you have of this land and its people that could prevent this situation from deteriorating further?"
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Jethro strokes his chin pedantically before replying: "Knowledge of the land and its people? Why that is a broad and vast subject! Would you prefer that I give you a discourse about the geological history of the Bandu Hills and how they connect to the broader developmental history of Garund itself? Or perhaps you are more interested in the history of settlement here and what preceded the human(oid) settlement of the area? Then again, if you are more ethnographically inclined, allow me to tell you about the local customs and rituals of the sub-cultures that are spread across this region. Such an understanding is best informed by knowledge of the linguistic patterns throughout Garund, and what they reveal of the changing nature of trade routes over time. And, if such topics do not slake your thirst for knowledge, allow me to share my knowledge of the genealogies of Garundi kingship, the preferred construction of Ekujae longhouses, and the botany of the Bandu begonia!"