Placeholder for Gameplay.
The curtain rises as the sun shines upon The Grand Lodge. The rays of Sarenrae reach every home from the Puddles to the Starstone, and we zoom in as one of the rays shines through a small window in the Grand Lodge, hitting an organized desk full of papers and reports.
Inside the well-furnished office sit 6 individuals - each one a Pathfinder, but one is clearly taking charge: A man with a well-groomed mustache and slick combed-back hair who says-"Close the door."-he says to the last one to enter, clearly suspicious. He continues-"Let me start by saying, this mission is not for dissemination among other members of the Society."The chamberlain of the Grand Lodge gives everyone a serious look in turn before continuing."This mission is not an investigation, just a simple, straightforward assignment, but that makes it no less important."
But looking at your blank faces, he pauses and smiles-"Excuse me, where are my manners? Let's start with introductions to your new team. My name is Ambrus Valsin, leader of the Grand Lodge faction. Who do I have the pleasure to meet today?"
|
A woman sits in one of the chairs, her black hair braided back; she is short, Tien, and looks quite regal. Red, high-quality fabric with gold trim fits her body with the flattery that only a skilled tailor can work, and a pair of smart black gloves cover her hands.
She stares intently as Valsin speaks, a finger lain beneath her lip as she considers his words, and smiles as his train of thought circles back to where it should have begun in the first place: Introductions.
Standing up, she is actually rather on the short side, at only a bit over five feet; from her middle are holstered three weapons-- a short, lightly-curved blade across her back and two pistols at her belt. A bandolier running beneath her short jacket is covered in pouches and powder horns.
"A pleasure to meet you, Captain Valsin-- and the rest of you, I am certain. You all may refer to me as the Lady Vulpina. I trust you will all be up to the expectations that the Society and myself place upon you."
With that, she offers a deferential nod and alights back on her seat.
|
Flix gets the door and approaches the table. He notes Vulpina's raven hair, as dark as his. Strange coincidence., he ponders. His hair is half-bound toward the back and rest falls to his shoulders. His skin shimmers with small streaks of light, contrasting with his dark leather jacket. A sheathed longsword hangs from his belt, his shield leaned on the wall by the door.
To observe Flix as "uneasy" would be wrong, but he fidgets a lot. One of those types that can't sit still. He takes a seat toward the back. He knows he'll stand up a few times even in this short conversation.
He nods when he is acknowledged. Betraying his fidgety nature, he stands calmly, Master Valsin, I am Flix mon Klesh of the house Klesh. On assignment, per the Lodge's request. May our ancestors guide us on this journey. He makes a sweeping arm gesture and sits back down, going back to tapping the hilt on his longsword.
|
A cloaked mass of mangy fur watches intently from a pace further away than the other Pathfinders. The fur is gray, and obscures most of the small agent's features, save tiny hands, a pointed nose, and beady eyes that flash from under her hood. The robe is simple, but bears Tsukiyo's iconography. She bears a pistol at one hip and several unwieldy books on the other. A golden rat chatters incessantly on her shoulder.
"Not to worry, Sir Valsin. You speak to Loam Yin, returning from another mission in Heaven," she mutters upon request. "Our work is often secret, to some degree. It appears as if today's is more so?"
|
|
Swinging her heels back and forth in a chair that was clearly made for one with a larger stature, a bright peach colored gnome with short-cropped, flaming orange hair and pale green eyes bobs her head as she waits for everyone else to finish speaking. As soon as she can get a word in edgewise, she begins perkily chattering: "Oh! Hi! I'm Pai! Wow! I've never seen pistols before! That's what those are called, right? Woooow! They're sooo coool! I can't wait to see them in action! Anyhoo, I know people tend not to think I can be serious enough for big jobs, but I always help get the job done. No problem! I'm really good at what I do. I'm really big into teamwork too, you know. So I'm sure we'll all get to be the best of friends on this mission! By the way Master Valsin, what're we doing?" Her whole body sways and turns to face various people in the room as she speaks, finally snapping towards the Venture Captain as she asks her question. She vibrates as she awaits his response, as if barely able to contain a massive amount of electric energy in her petite, child-like frame.
|
|
The Varisian in explorer's clothing and holding a staff clears his throat after everyone has introduced themselves and says..."My name is Salvadore Mattero. I am a Wizard of the 3rd Order here at the Pathfinder Society. Chamberlain Valsin, you said this mission was not of dissemination. Would you still like a detailed record kept for yourself or would you prefer that we did not discuss this ever?"
In answer to your eager introductions, Valsin gives a warm, fatherly smile. His expression contrasts with his crow eyes and white hairs, a memento of the stressful life he lives. As it fades away, his business-like demeanor returns, and he replies-"No, do not discuss this for the time being. We cannot be sure of who to trust."
"I need you to book passage to the dreadful lands of Irrisen. You’re to rendezvous with another team who have captured some—"Valsin pauses for a heartbeat before continuing."—persons of interest. We have reason to believe that these individuals have information on Shadow Lodge operatives - rogue Pathfinders that wish to sabotage our endeavors." Valsin’s expression becomes particularly grim at that point. "I need you to take charge of these captives and get them out of Irrisen safely and quietly, into the city of Trollheim. Once you’re clear of Irrisen, a larger extraction team will take custody of them and bring them in for questioning. You'll meet the Irriseni team with the prisoners in a snowy field, and they will show you the best route out of that icy hell."
With a deep sigh, he combs his hair back and smiles-"In short: Prisoners have information on Pathfinder traitors. Go to Irrisen to pick them up. Transport them safely out of Irrisen and into Trollheim. You are responsible for avoiding unexpected trouble between the handoff and Trollheim."
The faction leader stands up quickly, his hands behind his back and his head held high-"Any questions?"
|
|
Vulpina listens intently, nodding along. When he asks for questions, she shows her gloved palm; "While I have no intention of letting this come to pass, it is good strategy to have an agreement in advance rather than attempting to negotiate one in the moment. Should the prisoners loosen their bonds to flee and the chance to restrain and recapture them is lost, is it better to silence them forever or allow them to escape?"
|
|
Oh. Wow. This lady is serious! Pai's eyes widen like saucers as Lady Vulpina asks the first question. In the awkward moment of silence that follows, she peeps: "I need to buy a warmer coat. Oh! And how many captives are there? And what race are they? That matters 'cause of size, you know. Like, are they big people so I have to get my fierce on? Or smaller people so I...still have to get my fierce on, I guess. Heheh." A self-conscious, nervous laugh trails off as she decides to stop babbling for now. (For now.)
Valsin ponders for a bit and replies to Lady Vulpina's question with a straight face. "If worst comes to worst, let them escape. But know that in my book that would be a failed mission. Killing them would be even worse, for they are not dangerous in the slightest, but hold important information."
At Pai's inquiry he gives an crooked, faked smile, looking sideways and stuttering for just a brief moment-"Ah, yes. There's also the matter of who you're transporting. You need to know this: you will be transporting 5 goblins. The Shadow Lodge separatists made extensive use of the creatures as soldiers and servants, and as much as you may want to throttle them, please remember that we need them alive."
|
|
A slight smile crosses her lips and she inclines her head in a slight nod; this is, after all, good information.
...Immediately followed by bad information.
"Goblins."
It's not, exactly, a question; as a single word, it's hardly a statement, but she fills it with such trepidation it's easy to infer her meaning: This is gonna suck.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Loam stays silent long enough for one to reasonably assume she'll keep to it. But she speaks. "Goblins," she repeats. "Unsavory creatures. Some would attest to their potential otherwise. Like my companion, I harbor doubts. I fought enough during the Shadow Lodge's incursion on Absalom."
"But for what possible reason would they have been given relevant information?! They will not learn. Simply point them at what you wish butchered!"
Even though Lady Vulpina has never seen a Goblin, her sharp ears have picked up on some telltale about their behavior. The first thing she remembers is hearing a tale about a town in the Varisian coast being attacked by a group of goblins and she remembers quite vividly that the goblins killed the dogs first in anger and left the horses alone out of unfounded fear. "Hate for dogs and fear of horses", she remembers.
She also remembers a story about how a pair of goblins ate a whole cow in one day, a feat not even humans would be capable of. She remembers the one who told her this tale said-"Goblins have fast metabolisms. They can eat very quickly"-the memory playing back in her head.
Flix, on his part, remembers quite clearly reading a book called "Divided by Ice", which tells the story of an Irriseni maiden falling in love with an Ulfen skald from Trollheim. He remembers the tension between the two nations was and is high, and as such Ulfen guards might not look kindly upon goblins passing through their lands. The last part he remembers is that the maiden had to cross through a ferry of some kind, since a river divides both nations.
Ambrus keeps answering your questions, somewhat glad your group is smart enough to ask all you can. He says-"We will provide a map of the region, as well as supplies for you and your prisoners. All for the time it will take you - 3 and a half days."
He addresses the other issues saying-"The goblins served as slaves to very important sorcerers. They could identify traitors if we use mind-reading magic on them. As for the recovery team, they will be wearing wayfinders marked with a panda's face."-he says smiling.
With decisive haste, the group bids farewell to Ambrus and books passage to Irrisen. You quickly find a boat thanks to your Pathfinder contacts - "The Mad Dash", a small ship that's designed for speed, relying on the captain's skills to survive the waters.
As you all board the ship and pay, in the blink of an eye you're already setting sail for Irrisen - only having time to buy a few spare items before you set sail.
You spend a month at sea, already used to riding long journeys and adveturing all over the Inner Sea. One thing is abundantly clear: the fact that the ship has room to spare. You'd guess with all of the stops it needed to make, more people would have come, but you're not sure why you're the only passengers apart from the sailors.
Still, throughout the month you all get to know each other - your quirks, your hobbies, and how you handle yourself at dinner in a rocky dinner table.
|
|
The Lady Vulpina is, for a noblewoman, a bit odd... though not, of course, as fully eccentric as others.
For starters, she doesn't seem to talk down to her fellow party members-- and doesn't seem to mind either rodent, either.
More curiously, perhaps, is how elusive she is when the ship has come to port. Each time, she is the first off the gangplank, and walks with grace and haste in equal measure, slipping by dockworkers and sailors alike. Anyone who makes an effort to follow her has, at least, some difficulty.
She returns an hour or so later each time, looking freshly cleaned and with a spring in her step.
At one such stop, as they head north and the weather grows colder, she is gone a little longer; when she returns, she carries with her a pack that rather clearly contains a new outfit.
|
|
Saalvadore is quiet for a wizard. He spends most of his time to the side watching the others and repeatedly casting Prestidigitation on his staff to make it turn different colors. He explains to the group..."I think perhaps turning the goblins a nice bright yellow or orange will help us to keep track of them. What does the rest of you think?"
Although he wears a wooden Holy Symbol of Nethys, he doesn't seem to be overly religious. He does, however, tend to fiddle with the steel signet ring on his right ring finger.
|
|
Loam's general reclusivity is amped up by the boat, but she talks fairly often. She brings along several sets of the same robe, deep green with dark pink trim and damage in all the same places. She introduces the golden rat as Gukom Freedom-By-Dragon. "-Though I doubt you will have to say such a mouthful so often. He need not be addressed, as he will not respond in kind."
Overall, the ratfolk seems best acquainted with Salvadore. "The goblins might even be amenable to color magic. Once we are done, it would do to compare spellbooks. Such is the way to mature."
The journey passes uneventfully, but your ship makes good time and delivers you through Trollheim and onto Irriseni lands, only a day's trek from your objective. The captain assures you he will be ready to pick you up in Trollheim once your duties are finished. As you land on the icy land of Irrisen, the heavy snowstorms seem to be already kicking you out - it is as if the land resists human life. It's hard to see, and hard to talk through your trek, but your experience as Pathfinders seems to paying off - you can all make the trek without any setbacks.
A day after, you spot a fire in the distance. Going closer, you see the shapes and outlines of tents, a small watchtower, and makeshift barricades in the snowblind. Approaching even closer, you notice the camp seems to be abandoned - no one in the watchtower, and no one in plain sight. Perhaps the reign of winter got them too?
But before you have time to think about the possibilities, 6 individuals pop out of the snow, somehow already surrounding you! They are all wearing white fur clothes, and holding longbows - their strings taut and their arrows pointed at you. In the center, a small halfling woman speaks up - her small voice carrying through the snowstorm by the pure tension of the situation-"Halt! What's your business here? Irriseni dogs I presume?"-her hand extended upwards so as to direct her team's volley.
The small halfling woman smirks and approaches the group, her hand still at the ready. Her squad looks confused as they hold their aim on you, awaiting the signal. With a smirk, she says-"30 warriors? Yeah right, this mission is supposed to be top secret!"-as she bursts into laughter.
The rangers lower their weapons, and the small halfling woman introduces herself-"Name's Sverrir, fellow Pathfinders. Glad you could make it. This here's my possee - the Lightfoot Snow Wolves. We are in charge of spying on nearby towns, intercepting important cargo, and smuggle out innocents from this icy hell. Snowstorms, tundras and climbing ice mountains are our specialties, and I'm the one making the calls"-as she gestures at the snow, which seems to reshape itself so as to form a road into camp.
She explains as she starts walking, expecting you to keep up, her small frame in contrast with her bossy attitude-"Valsin sent a letter saying you'd be taking charge of our last captures - this group of gobbos."-pointing at a pole in the center of camp.
The small pole is stuck on the snow, and tied to it are 5 sleeping blue-skinned goblins. They're all bound by the same knot and rope, barely having the space to move around. They shuffle around as they sleep as one of them whispers-"Tasty berries. Snow berries to pass around..."
Sverrir chuckles and says-"I take it you're good to go and eager to get out of this hellhole? How may I assist you?"-her arms crossed and a big smile across her face.
|
|
Vulpina's hands go up when they are surrounded, though she keeps her eyes on the halfling woman's hand, ready to drop and pull her pistol if she directs the group to loose.
Thankfully, it doesn't come to that.
She chuckles with a swashbuckler's ease as the longbows go down, and smiles.
"Pleased to meet you, M-Miss Sverrir. It sounds like quite the operation-- 'tis not often that I am surrounded quite so suddenly!" She offers a handshake, as much by introduction as by congratulation. "I am the Lady Vulpina."
She looks around; her nose has gone strawberry pink, while much of the rest of her face has gone pale, even with her layers of thick wool. "Are you aware of any specific dangers along the route we'll be taking?"
She casts a sidelong glance at the goblins. Miserable creatures. At least they treat dogs appropriately, however...
|
|
Pai, all bundled up in her thick winter wear, can barely be seen under all that padding. Being so small, she has a bit more trouble keeping warm than the bigger folk, and wonders at how the halfling woman can manage so well in the frigid blasting wind of this horrid place. I mean, yeah, it has a kind of terrible, stark beauty to it, but I much prefer green leaves and wind that doesn't feel like ice. Still, as time is passing, she is slowly acclimating to the freezing temperatures, and is bound to be back to her normal chatty self soon enough.
She follows after the group and shifts around to the side so she can get a look at her captives. Aww. They look kinda harmless when they're sleeping. I wonder how much trouble they'll be when they're awake? She pictures bouncing little demons capering about causing as much havoc as possible out in the middle of the frozen nowhere. ...Yikes. I bet they know how to hide really well out here. We better keep them tied up well!
Teeth chattering, she manages to query: "And what c-can you tell us about how to d-deal with these guys when they're awake? K-kinda hard to judge 'em now, ya' know."
Sverrir smiles, taking a seat in the center tent as she ushers you into her workplace. All around, you see maps of the land, all with berries, leaves and hunting trophies marking them. Detailed diagrams of the weather cycles and patrols, and how they adjust accordingly to each variable.
If someone were to take down the evil Reign of Winter, you'd be sure these guys would at least be in on it. To Lady Vulpina's question, Sverrir says-"We've chartered a path for you to follow."-as she hands her a map of the land-"Irrisen is harsh, specially for newcomers. Because of recent stir-ups in Saarboten, troll patrols are moving about. You really don't want to mess around with a Troll clad in mammoth bone armor, I assure you. That is why we have figured out their rotations and planned accordingly."
She points to the trail and says-"Please stick to this path. You will pass through the Bone Gorge, only two hundred yards away from a watchtower. Go into the gorge and you will avoid being noticed by the watchtower. Then, you'll have make your way to the town of Harvest's End, and ask for permission to cross the river by ferry. Walk half a day more and you'll be out of Baba Yaga's reign."
To Pai's concern, she replies-"We haven't given them the chance to really express themselves - some of my rangers are Varisian, and resentment runs deep against the Gobbos. So, they've been hit unconscious every time they woke up - the only time they've remained awake is to be fed. One thing I know is that they were part of a tribe - the Frostfur tribe. Probably the last survivors, to be honest. Remember you must protect them at all costs - whether we like it or not, the lives of these little critters is worth more to the Decimverate than ours right now."
|
|
Vulpina seems relieved to be in the central tent; if nothing else, it significantly cuts the biting wind that makes her nose hairs freeze.
"A loathsome position we find ourselves in," she admits, "when our wellbeing is regarded lower than goblins."
She considers a moment, then produces a wide-barreled pistol from her bandolier (which is, miraculously, now on her chest instead of her waist). She takes a concoction from one of the pouches and sprinkles it down the muzzle.
"I hope the trolls in this area have no greater love of fire than their southern cousins," she grins.
|
|
"So, they've been hit unconscious every time they woke up..."
Pai's brow creases at the mention of the captives' treatment. Well, that sounds...mean. Will there be anything left of their brains once we get them back? "I hope you haven't knocked the memories right out of them. Hitting people on the head like that can make them forget things, and we really need them to remember everything. Maybe don't do that anymore." I mean, yeah, they're goblins, but come on. Have some mercy, for crying out loud.
Sverrir looks at the Goblins, and gives you a melancholic smile-"I apologise for my subordinates' actions, please understand they've lost family to goblin attacks back in Varisia. If I had enough time to keep them in line, I would. In any case, they haven't shared their names, but you're welcome to approach them and wake them up."-she says, gesturing to the tied-up goblins.
As Flix approaches the goblins and gives them a little pat on the head, one of them twitches awake, waking the others up! They all complain like children-"Let sleep us, dumb brother."-one of them says, referring to one of his fellow goblins.
Before they start arguing however, Flix clears his throat and looks them dead in the eye, resulting in the goblins immediately standing up and presenting themselves. The one that takes the lead is a female goblin decked in brown furs and dried meats-"Yes, longshanks. We speak commomon. I be Zorga, the prettiest of us all."-her words being bested by the worst of Sense Motives.
Next, a small goblin in much less clothing perks up-"Me Borch! And this here be Tangleweb."-he says as he motions to a spider he has tied up to his pinky finger through a fishing thread-"I be hunter! I've killed wolves and Tangleweb has killed goblins!"
Up next, a long-haired goblin raises his hand up, saying in a jittery voice-"Dronza is my name. I see all that is, and I see you treat us nice! ...please?"-in a mix of euphoria and fear.
I say Dronza was jittery, but not comparable to the one that stands up next. The goblin that stands up is quite literally shaking, and he can't seem to be still - his eyes darting around and his hand scratching his arms. "Ch-Chenk be here. I'm nu-nurse. I know how to c-close slashies and smashies and pikeys"
Finally, to finish the little group, a goblin with a head the side of a watermelon stands up. You'd swear his head is as big as Borch, but is roughly human-sized in reality. He is the only one that does not look you in the eye and in fear. Instead, his gaze is averted as he mutters-"I Gish. Frostfur warrior. Gimme weapon, I smash yous head in."-with a look of resentment in his eyes.
|
|
Vulpina's eyes slowly pan over the group as they introduce themselves. Once they all finish, she takes a short breath to ready herself for something that is quite beneath her station, and steps forward.
"Good afternoon, Frostfurs. I am the Lady Vulpina; it is a pleasure to meet you all."
She reaches a gloved hand out to shake, knowing full-well that they're just as likely to shake it as they are to slobber on it.
"A most impressive group! I am quite pleased with your accomplishments-- that is quite some spider, as well!"
She hopes that her honeyed tongue will keep the goblins from betraying them or fleeing at the first opportunity.
|
|
Loam's list of grievances grows by the second. However, she affords the goblins a deep bow. "Well met," she lies. "I am Loam Yin. You were right to introduce yourselves, a mark against your nature. We will improve upon this. Your manners and awful habits, that is. Something tangible - to me, more than my superiors - will rise from this errand, or else."
Where Vulpina tries to manage the goblins lightly, Loam hopes to keep them (relatively) civil and quiet, or, in Gish's case, show that she is not to be trifled with.
|
|
Pai, bundled up against the cold, bounces on the balls of her feet with her hands stuffed into her pockets during the introductions. She's not entirely sure if playing nice or scary will work, but she feels bad for Loam. She's clearly trying so hard to be scary, but it's just not working. And...well, Pai is always looking for excuses to be scary. Oh, boy! Hehehe!
With a momentary shiver, she pulls her hands out of her pockets and stretches out her arms. Arcs of pale blue electricity begin arcing around her in a 20 foot diameter, swirling with greater and greater density as they are drawn into her small frame. Her eyes begin to glow with the power absorbed by her body. "You will do as we say. We will keep you safe..." She wants to say more, but can't think of anything that wouldn't sound lame. Instead she releases the power in a wild surge, the electricity dissipating into the swirling snow to punctuate the end of her "scary speech".
As an afterthought, she activates her Enveloping Winds ability, just in case.
|
|
"Since there may be others looking for you, I think we should make some changes. I am going to make your skins look a different color for the trip, like this..."
Salvadore casts prestidigitation on each one to change their skin bright orange.
"Now you will be known as Tangerine Goblins from the Forest Grove Clan from the Mwangi jungle."
|
|
Pai begins convulsing, turning away to hide her snicker-giggles from the goblins. Oh, gosh! That's too funny! Ohmygosh! Well, I guess I don't look very scary now. Shucks. Oh well. Heeheehee! Ohmygosh! Tangerine Goblins? Oh, that's too much! ... It takes her a full two minutes to get herself under control.
The goblins seem relaxed once Flix and Lady Vulpina show kindness - apparently, not something they're used to. But when Loam and Pai speak up, they quake in fear, nodding quickly. Dronza tries to calm them down-"Yes, yes. Longshanks tall, they be kind. Longshanks small, they be strict!"-recognizing a pattern where there isn't one.
As Salvadore approaches the small tribe and starts painting them bright orange, Zorga squeals-"No, please! Our Frostfur rep!"-but does not put resistance.
But their sorrow is quelled when Borch mentions-"We be new tribe now. Friends with tall longshanks, slaves to small longshanks. Tangerine Goblins from the Mawawagi Compass!"-hyping up the group and quickly making them forget the situation they are in.
All in all, you seem to have connected well with the goblins, one way or another. Their bright orange skin in contrast with the snow, they stand up and wait to be led by the rope.
|
|
Flix stands tall and considers the goblins's demeanor and response. He gives a shiver, perhaps from the cold or from his chaotic nature. He checks the longsword in its scabbard and makes ready to move on. Good, let's get moving. We have specific timings to hit and we need you to listen carefully and cooperate.