More to Come
The adventure begins in the early morning, just a few hours after sunrise, as the PCs reach the borders of Mishkar, a bustling human town built of stone and wood in a mixture of Varisian and Taldan styles. Mishkar is not aligned with any of the powers in Iobaria, and its people value their independence and self-sufficiency.
The town of Mishkar sits atop a hill, surrounded by walls that are old but well maintained. People, mostly humans, stream in and out of the gates, watched over by sharp-eyed guards. Past the gate is a bustling market, beyond which is a town of low wooden and stone buildings. Most of the construction looks fairly new and of human design, with no sign of the cyclops remnants upon which most Iobarian settlements are built.
Since there was no set meeting place to make contact with Nelkat, the agents take to the street, looking for any signs of the person.
diplomacy(gather information)
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A young looking gnome can be seen wandering the streets, with a jet black raven on his left shoulder eating a berry. The Gnome is wearing an orange vest with a thin white silk shirt underneath and tan leather pants. He has burnt orange skin, golden yellow hair and eyes. Well, this is the correct area, you think I should ask around for our contact? He says to Jinx in a soft tone.
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Diplomacy
The young woman walks around quietly, taking jn what she can of the new town. She was simply dressed with a worn hide shirt serving as her protection. She had two beautiful looking blades at her side, however, making it obvious she spent more on those than the rest of her possessions combined. Along her neck, she had a beat up hold symbol of Shelyn. She had dark hair and eyes to go along with her pale skin. ”I’m Ouita,” she said.
Her eyes brightened once she saw the market. She made a bee line to look at the wares and speak to the merchants, listening for any news on this Nelkat she was sent to meet.
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"Hi. I'm Khari Sidare. Reporter for the Voice of the Free, based in Galt. Pleased to meetcha." the furred woman shakes hands with everyone she can in the market. "How is life in Mishkar? Any major concerns? What's your favorite food out here? Have you heard of a woman named Nelket?"
"She's a jolly hag? Oh, you mean she manages a tavern called the Jolly Hag!" Khari corrects herself and scribbles down some shorthand notes in her notebook. "Well, thanks. If I could ask you- oh, those are my horns, don't touch them like that. Yes, those are my hooves, I don't really have toes." She looks up and snaps her book shut.
"You know, it's been a real pleasure speaking to you. I'll just head towards the Jolly Hag now." Khari quickly distances herself from the nosy merchant and locates the tavern.
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Ugh, excuse me? I couldn’t help but over hear you guys are looking for Nelket as well. Hi, I’m Oops, mind if I tag along? I’m assuming you guy are my partners for this mission. I had no luck trying to find out about this Nelket, most people just ignored me like I was just some child. Oops gives a friendly nod to the two ladies as he offers his hand.
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With his wild mane of blonde hair, his large sword, and the symbol of Gorum etched onto his armor, it seems odd than Lars is able to ask peacefully about direction and information.
More than one woman seems to be attracted by his "bad boy" attitude, and happily gives him the information he's asking, and maybe a little bit more, as they infer that whatever that Neklet girl can do, they can do better (or worse, depends your point of view).
Besides , she is said to have been a woman of the cloth, while they can easily be clothless, if you catch my drift. Hum hum.
And of course, she's a tavern girl now (even if she OWNS the tavern), and she isn't known for being welcoming to strangers, or townpeople for that matter, keeping for herself. While themselves.. know how lonely it could be on the roads.
"Is Lars really in a hurry to meet that woman?" seems to be a common question today in Mishkar.
Even a lad asks it.
Lars decline, as politely as possible, every invitation for now, but after the mission is concluded, who knows?
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"Oh, hello there. Oops? That's a great name!" Khari extends a hand to shake with. "I'm Khari Sidare. Normally a news reporter but right now I'm a Pathfinder. I'm here to look for Nelket and help her in any way possible."
"Hello. You're Ouida? Nice blades you've got there. Way shinier than my longspear." Khari fidgets with some of the vials on strange liquid on her belt. "Who else is asking for Nelket?"
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Despite not being the most diplomatic - or social - of the adventurers, Jomal does what he can. He pulls his hood - hoping to avoid questions about his origins - but yet manages to find enough information of where to find Nelket. Even if he failed, however, it was easy to identify his colleagues of the Society trying to gather similar information. As he find about the tavern Nelket works, he presses his steps to get with the other pathfinders.
My greetings. - the monk speaks, with his usual few words. Different than most monks, he doesn't give an impression of being wise... But his prominent scales are sufficient intimidating to suggest draconic roots - I'm called Jomal.
From talking to everyone in town, you all deduce that Nelket can be found at the Jolly Hag.
You all imagine that it would be less crowded in the morning, however, Nelket should be there preparing for the day.
Anyone on the street can point you to it.
The Jolly Hag is a small but cozy tavern, lit by a pair of clean windows on either side of the door and a fireplace near the back. Counters and stools line the wall, with a few small tables in the center of the room. A woman in a modest green dress and off-white apron looks up from the bar at the back.
She calls out as you enter, "We are not quite open yet. Come back in the afternoon."
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'Hey Jomal. Pleased to meet you." Khari shakes his hand.
"Oh cool, a Nagaji. Pretty rare around here!" She smiles. "Don't worry, everyone will notice me first." She winks and points at her horns. 'Let's grab that handsome Ulfen guy and go to the Jolly Hag."
She tugs Lars by the sleeve. "C'mon, Pathfinder. We gotta talk to Nelket!"
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Khari knocks on the door and waits patiently for an answer. "It's not open yet? Perfect. You will have time for a few questions, right? We're from the Pathfinder Society, and we were sent to meet a woman named Nelket."
Khari is too pushy and sure of herself.
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A man of Taldan descent wanders over to the group. A symbol of Sarenrae hands from a chain on his neck. His armour and weapons show a man capable of taking care of himself in battle, where healing can be tricky at times. He nods in acknowledgement of the others.
Good day. I am Therin Baldaros...delighted to meet you. I humbly apologize for my tardiness....my summons got sent to the wrong chapel. Now, who can catch me up?
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Oops stares the woman down looking for any indication she may be hiding information.
Hi I’m Oops, I think what my friend is trying to say is we are expecting to meet Nelket here at this inn and do to it being society business she may want us to discuss the mission before you guys are open for business.
Huh? Oh Nice to meet you Therin, you haven’t missed anything our compatriots have got word that our Contact Nelket runs this Inn here.
She sets a glass down on the back bar and smiles, "Well you found her."
“And I’m surprised you’ve actually come all this way. I haven’t had many dealings with the Society before, so it came as quite a surprise that they, or anyone else, would much care about my clan or our past. But maybe I can be of some help. Unfortunately, there isn’t a whole lot to tell you. I’m one of only a handful of survivors of the Farheaven Clan; most of us perished in a plague about fifteen years back. We had a small village south of here in the Norinor, where my ancestors settled after fleeing the demons unleashed by the Worldwound. I was scarcely more than a child when the plague came; I served as apprentice to our god caller, Roga, at the time. The plague hit fast, taking the elders and even infecting Roga near the end. He urged me to gather the children and leave the village before we became sick as well, but it wasn’t until I watched our god, Dolok Darkfur, rip the life from Roga in an attempt to stop the spreading infection that I gathered the children and fled.”
She pauses for a moment and then sighs and shrugs, continuing her story. “I led the younger children through the woods as best I could. There are lots of people scattered about the Norinor Forest; they like their privacy and don’t interact much with others, but they’re not cruel, and they helped us where they could. Eventually we made our way to the Noyrus River and followed it north before heading for Mishkar, and we’ve been here ever since.”
Nelket sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose before finishing her story. “Whatever remains of the Farheavens besides the few of us here is in that village. I have the closest connection to the old ways—to our god—but I barely remember these things. The others remember even less, if anything. Some could barely speak when we fled. If you want to know more, the only one left with answers would be old Dolok himself. I can teach you the ritual to summon him to his altar in the village, if you’d like, but be careful; there was a kind of madness on him at the end, and I’ll never forget that fearsome despair in his eyes as he killed my master.”
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Khari writes every single note down she can. There's a twinge of melancholy as she writes notes. "This is so sad..."
"I'm so sorry about all of this." Khari frowns and puts her notebook away. "We need to learn more about this plague. It's been long enough, maybe the plague has exhausted itself."
"You have a right to know about your home and heritage. Uh, I know I don't get to say that often. Ganzi kinda of just... pop up. But we'll find out what happened to you out there- we're Pathfinders!"
"Oh, I can be of some help with that, at least I think I can" Nelket chimes in, "I heard from Roga that one of the woodcutters had chopped into a tree he shouldn’t have. Apparently, there was an awful smell and a kind of mist that made him cough. The people who got sick developed coughs very quickly, and they had a smell about them, as if they were rotting from the inside. I’ll never forget that smell.”
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That sounds awful, I am very sorry what’s happened to you and your clan. If there are answers we are sure to find them. What can you tell me of Dolok? What are some of his tenants, or principles he follows? You said a tree exuded a mist and had a strange rotting smell to it? Was there any sound or was it a certain color?
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Jomal limits himself to listen in silence. In his thoughts, he knows there's something very wrong happening - however, he's more concerned with the ritual she mentioned. He doesn't particularly like the chaos that magic brings, and Dolok doesn't seem too pleasant to deal with at the moment. His face assumes a grumpy frown.
“He was, or rather is, the god of the Farheaven Clan. He appeared to us as a bear who walked and spoke as a person. He had been with us for generations, serving as a guardian and advisor to my clan until the plague came. I don’t think it infected him, because of his divine nature, but I think it drove him mad in the end anyway. Watching us die from an illness no one could cure, one after another… By the end, putting the sick out of their misery was the only thing that made sense to him.”
"It was a fine yellow mist. No sound accompanied it"
"No, he guided the clan and would fight for us rather than send us to do it."
"To speak with Dolok, one would have to call him. It’s relatively simple, really, but there are some artifacts from our tribe that you will need to find first: a darkwood carving of a standing bear, a leather necklace strung with bear claws and black feathers, a silver bowl engraved with images from the clan’s past, a small polished stone with a mottled pattern, and a small pot of honey. To perform the ritual, one must wear the necklace and place the bowl on the altar with the rock in it. The honey must be placed to the left of the bowl and the bear carving to the right. You have to drip a bit of honey on the stone and then pour water over it until you fill the bowl. After that, recite a simple prayer, which I can teach you, and then wait. Dolok Darkfur should appear, unless he’s become so lost in his madness that he can no longer be reached.”
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The monk was far from being any intelligent - or wise, for that matter - and would usually defer to the questions of the others. However, hearing the description of the ritual, he stepped ahead to speak.
And where would we find these... Artifacts? - he tried to choose the words, but in his mind the objects sounded fairly common - Our path seems to be that of speaking to Dolok.
The Nagaji was impressive in size and voice, but his words were simple and heavy on foreign accent.
Answering Jomal, “You can buy the honey here in Mishkar, though we always kept some in the village, so some might remain there. The other items are all unique, and the last time I saw any of them was in the old village, though it’s been so long that I can’t promise anything now. Who knows what may have come through and taken things? Regardless of how it goes in the village, if you do find any of the totems, I’d appreciate it if you could return them to me.”
The only thing that Lars can rule out is Yellow Mold, but can not identify the mist either.
The Farheavens built their village to make use of the forest. They found a small clearing and then cut down only the trees they needed in order to build their homes, allowing the forest to act as a sort of screen against prying eyes. There is a small gathering area in the center of the village, indicated on the map, and about a dozen other outlying buildings spread out over a half a mile of territory.
The Farheaven village sprawls outward from the shrine to Dolok Darkfur, a large stone edifice surrounded by several other buildings whose once brightly colored paint has faded and chipped. The main village square is in turn surrounded by about two dozen other dilapidated homes scattered throughout the forest, though the Norinor has mostly reclaimed these buildings, with bushes, vines, and young trees poking through roofs and doorways.
The PCs approach the center building. The walls and roof look more or less intact, though plenty of vines now cover the detailed carvings along the vertical support beams. The steps leading up to the porch on the southwest look like they’re about to collapse, but the door of the house still seems rather sturdy.
The door is locked and not trapped.
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Strange.. See these houses? Some of the wood structure is missing. Perhaps they used it elsewhere. Or believing that the wood could bring the disease to their homes they probably get rid of it. But that house, now... It's better than it looks.Someone took care of it, and tried to fool people by making it appear as if it wasn't used, just like the rest of the houses.
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Jomal doesn't notice anything at all special about the house, but smiles to pretend he was seeing what was pointed by his companions.
I say we simply go and knock the door. - the not-too-intelligent-or-good-in-planning Nagaji speaks, before tapping his weapon - And we break in if we don't get an answer.
He wasn't one for breaking the laws, being honest; however, he wasn't one to play nice either.
No answer is at the door when Ouita knocks.
Jinx flies around but does not see anything besides natural forest and critters.
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Unfortunately, they don't teach things of that sort at the abbey. There is an elf my cousin knows...could probably get through that with his eyes closed...supposedly that's how he practices...uses his elven hearing and his sense of touch. If need be, use my morning star...don't think a lock would stand up to very many hits...
As Lars looks for a window to peer into. A voice calls from the woods. "Aye, I am here. But who are you? And why are you at my house." A moment later and elderly male and two younger females emerge around the corner of the house.