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As is his early morning habit, Krieger stands in Skyreach’s Great Hall, cup of steaming jasmine tea in one hand and absently grasping his mother's zoic fetish in the other. He leans over the Atlas Tableaux, poring over its illusory map of the Inner Sea region as new Pathfinder reports came in.
Hmmm. This report from Inahiyi on Mount Shibotai in Minata sounds interesting. A wayang invitation to attend their annual festival to commemorate the catastrophe that brought them into this world and forced them to ally with their neighbors against a common threat. My mother would have found that intriguing.
If I want to get myself assigned to this team, I'd better get moving. He flipped through the scant document and focused his attention on the administrative data in the margins of the report. The reports officer is listed as 'supervillan.' I seem to recall that no-account whoreson GM Lorenzo worked with him recently.
Krieger glances down at the object in his left hand. Hwang Fei had crafted the small charm out of twined braids of her own hair and a lump of black granite, an abstract representation of a dire bear, symbol of the Bearpelt following, the people of his Kellid father, the Mighty Kuldor. His Minkaian mother had told him the fetish was enchanted with powerful druidic magic.
Krieger is an impressive figure, 6'4" tall and weighing some 14 stone. His mixed heritage makes it difficult for most to place his origins. His formal bearing hints at military service. If fact, he had once served in the army of Po La the Bureaucrat, the Tian leader of Icestair, the largest settlement in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, wedged against the wall of ice that marks the edge of the Crown of the World.
Letting go of the fetish, Krieger scratches his chest through his noble's attire, a gift from Taldor's Princess Eutropia for services rendered. The signet ring on his forefinger, another gift from the princess, bears the sigil of his new, noble house, the clawed paw of a dire bear. The wicked scars on his body, a constant reminder of his initiation into the Bearpelt following, are concealed by the fine silk shirt and satin waistcoat.
"Woe unto the foe who sees these scars," he whispers, a grim determination furrowing his brow.
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An armored man in a steel breastplate walks through the streets of Ramparassad looking lost. He glances down at the map scribbled for him by the innkeeper a few hours before and then back up at the shop signs written in Tien. He carries an unstrung bowstave tucked into his backpack and several arrows peek out from a quiver on his back. A fiery symbol of the Dawnflower is embroidered on a linen shirt soaked with sweat from the heat. A scimitar hangs at his hip and the people passing him, give him a wide berth.
Wiping his brow once again, the bearded Taldan mutters a curse. "Flameless night! How do they expect anyone to read this chicken scratch?" He squints down at the map again and then suddenly up at a sign ahead. Grunting, he turns the paper at an angle and then sighs.
He looks around for any help and spots a cripple begging for coins. The man's legs were twisted, either deformed at birth or broken in a horrible incident. Dark bruises were evident on his side from sitting in one place too long, probably the unforgiving stone on the street. The Taldan crosses the street to him. "That looks painful, friend." He drops a few silvers into the man's bowl and gestures to his leg. "May name is Sir Hayden. May I try to help?"
The man simply nods, likely not understanding the knight, but knowing the silvers meant that he could eat tonight. Hayden touches the leg lightly, feeling the bone beneath. It seemed like it was from some accident. The beggar wasn't born this way. Resetting the bone and healing the years of deformed damage was beyond his ability, but he touches the man's bruising seeing him wince. Hayden nods and bows his head. He opens himself up to Sarenrae, calling on her power. Warmth like a roaring fire fills him, different than the oppressive heat of the air around. He touches the bruise again and the dark purple slowly begins to fade.
The cripple shouts in shock. He rubs at his leg and where the bruise was a moment ago. Smiling, he gives a seated bow to the knight. Before Hayden can return the greeting, the cripple snatches the map from his other hand and looks at it. He turns the map upside down and nods, laughing. He points off to a street across the square.
"That way? Ah, many thanks." The knight of Taldor rises and shifts his pack and armor. He wipes his forehead again and bows to the cripple before setting off again.
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Dana walks with slow steps and is not the most gracile or beautiful woman from Tian Xia.
When she meets the group she waves her hand.
"Greetings to you all." says the corpulant woman with a self-confident smile.
Her right eye has been cut in the past which has led to a scar that is clearly visible on her right eye section.
Her asymmetrically cut black hair with pink highlights looks strange and out of place. She is wearing a full plate armor that clearly encumbers her heavily and with which she walks slowly.
Her armor has gadgets and colored leather straps which are more fashion items than functional adventure gear. A small buckler is attached to her left arm. She also carries a backpack.
Resting on top of her chest, an amulet showing the holy symbol of Chaldira Zuzaristan is visible.
She does not really have a natural presence and unfortunately might come across as aloof or arrogant.
Facing you all she bows but more out of tradition than courtesy you believe.
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A thin but extremely hairy man walks up and down the streets, a well dressed Dwarf following close behind. This is the market district, filled with all manner of shops and eateries specializing in all manner of cuisine. "Check this one out Harold, rare and exotic seafood! Let's try some!" Without waiting for an answer he pushes the door open and heads inside.
"But Dale, we've been eating weird food all day now and I'm pretty sure we'll be late for our appointment... Oh cripes, fine." Inside the Dwarf goes, shaking his head with annoyance.
Feudal Dtang-Ma is a land of lush jungles and mighty volcanoes. It is governed by a council of five powerful sorcerers, whose leader Wise Tiger Lord Kamraten Khemkhaeng rules from the Cinnamon Throne in the capital city of Ramparassad.
Situated at the foot of the volcano Pho-Yim, Ramparassad’s distance from the coast has done little to dilute its importance to trade and politics. The stability of the government has always depended on strict adherence to Dtang Ma’s unwritten constitution and the mutual dependence of the sorcerer lords it fosters, for ancient legend holds that it is the harmony of the Five that shields sprawling Ramparassad from devastation from the looming threat of ominously smoking Mount Pho-Yim.
It is to Ramparassad that you have come. Your instructions said to meet with Old Pak, a semi-retired Pathfinder who runs a tobacco shop there.
Today, a dismal downpour of rain accompanies the humidity-laced streets of the city. The brief scent of thick tobacco fills the air just outside the appropriately named storefront: “Pak’s Tobacco and Spice”. Inside, Old Pak sits behind a counter in the otherwise closed shop, enjoying a pull from his long pipe. He is accompanied by a small, pale figure with multiple tattoos and piercings who wanders down the rows of collected masks opposite the entrance.
“Greetings, Pathfinders. I am glad you could make it. The tea is already boiling and should be ready soon! My guest here, is Harjandi, who joins us from the usually reclusive Minatan city of Inahiyi with a request for aid. It’s rare for the wayangs of that region to venture out of their homeland, and I’ve decided to hear her message; and based on your prompt arrival, it seems you have too!”
The wayang woman nods, turning from her tour of the masks. “Though Inahiyi has few visitors, we have heard tales of the great Pathfinder Society and their interest in and respect for history and ritual. My city holds an annual festival to commemorate its founding, which was also when we came to friendly terms with the locals of Minata. The celebration includes ceremonial reenactments of our dealings with those ancient humans, roles that my fellow wayangs usually don masks and costumes to portray. Approximately every half a century, however, the festival falls on the autumnal equinox and tradition requires that outsiders participate.”
Harjandi continues, “The celebration is only a few days away, and if you accompany me back home, we will be happy to compensate you for your time. You’ll also have the esteem of being among the very few outsiders to witness our rituals. And, of course, you will be treated as guests of honour at the festival.”
“Not to mention the possibility of strengthening ties between the Society and Inahiyi,” Old Pak adds, suddenly coughing as the sound of a boiling kettle startles him from the last inhalation from his pipe. “Tea’s ready!”
You may already know something of the wayangs of Inahiyi and their ceremonies:
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On the way to Ramparassad, Mishka shares what he knows about the local inhabitants. "Wayangs are short humanoids who are usually gaunt and have large noses. Their skin is often a muted grey, but many wayangs ritually bleach their skin and wear many piercings. As a species, wayangs originated on the Shadow Plane, but they were trapped on the Material Plane millennia ago when their portals home closed unexpectedly."
He also knows a bit about the settlement of Inahiyi. "Though it is one of the most populous settlements of the archipelago nation of Minata, Inahiyi has very little contact with the rest of the world. The settlement is located on the ring of islands known as the Shibobekas, which were once the immense volcano Mount Shibotai. The islands are now inhabited by various tribes of wayangs, with Inahiyi being their de facto capital."
Finally, he relates what he recalls about why the wayangs settled here. "The wayangs of Inahiyi settled their city to keep watch over a shadowy presence they believe dwells within the remains of the volcano. History states that wayangs came to this location near the end of Tian Xia’s Age of Ashes to attempt to return to the Shadow Plane, but accidentally unleashed powerful, evil entities instead. With the help of a few Minatan heroes, they trapped one of the creatures and are now devoted to maintaining its prison."
He walks along in silent contemplation, hoping to remember something else.
"One of you may know more." Mishka shrugs. "My mother was from Tian Xia. But it's a big continent."
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Entering Pak’s Tobacco and Spice, he greets the retired Pathfinder with a courteous bow. "Well met, Old Pak. My name is Mishka Krieger."
"Tea would be lovely. I'll take it black." He offers Old Pak's wayang guest a bow as well. "Greetings, Harjandi," he says in Tien.
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Already waiting at Old Pak's is a devilishly handsome man with a challenging look in his eyes. Adorning his uniform of Chelish military colors he proudly bears the symbols of Asmodeus and his Archdevils, Dispater most prominently.
"Greetings to you all, I am Vlazis Chibuzo, called by some The Beloved. " His words slide out from behind a warm, genuine smile. "I was merely taking a moment to catch up with my Old friend Pak, always a source of fine tea and information whenever the First King's work takes me to this part of the world. Ah, Dale, excellent to see you again; I am certain that our expedition today will prove every bit as fruitful as the last one."
Returning his gaze to Harjandi, Vlazis continues, "We would be truly honored to bear witness to your rituals, and to help you in whatever small way we can."
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Dana is surprised to see a Wayang.
”Together with my sister Zaarah I spent a lot of time on one of the wayang-populated islands of Minata, and my use of magic while learning there has been a boon to us! I have to admit that my memory is fleeting ... I sometimes forget my own history let alone that of others ... “ she says with sadness.
”What kind of ritual is it that we are supposed to take part in? And why do you suddenly need outsiders?!“
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A small shadow pushes its way through just as the door is closing after the last Pathfinder walks through. The shadow doffs the cowl of its cloak, revealing another wayang. He looks around, a little shocked to find another of his kind here. "Oh!" he gasps, both wonder and delight appearing on his face as the mission's description is revealed. "I... wow!" is all he can say until the introductions of the others force him to speak in more detail.
"I'm Tenibri, but I'm only a wayang from Absalom. I'm sad to say I know little of these rituals beyond what I've studied."
He dips his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Which isn't much..." he adds, chagrined.
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The small hairy man known to many as simply 'Dale' enters the familiar Tea and Mask shop and bows in proper custom to his newer old friend Pak, then gives him a delicate hug "Pak my friend, you've called us back so soon after our last trip up the mountain? The spirits haven't gone back on their word have they?" He smiles, while his Dwarven friend behind him enters and fidgets slightly.
"Oh, this is Harold, my rock hound friend!" He introduces the Dwarf, who, by the look of him is decked out like a non combat NPC. Smiling and waving at the others before busying himself in the collection of masks while the group talks.
"Oh you've brought Vlazis too, good choice. And some new faces..." Dale makes proper introductions to each person, greeting them in their native languages, except for only the briefest and mispronounced 'hello' in Wayang and Ignan.
He listens to Mishka's wisdom, agreeing with everything he says before bringing everyone in close to add in something else.. something a bit hush hush..
"Very few people have heard of Abbinthurtaa, the Inahiyan festival that commemorates the city’s founding. Despite the wayangs’ reclusiveness, rumours have surfaced that the celebration is part of an elaborate ritual the wayangs perform to keep a shadowy evil imprisoned. However, most believe that the rites are simply part of an elaborate allegory representing the wayangs’ inner struggle with their darker selves. Some outspoken wayangs have declared the rituals to be a hoax, and hope to one day reveal the pointlessness of their kindred’s ceremonies." He looks over at the two Wayangs for confirmation, or at least to gauge their reaction to this information.
"So.. should we bring our own masks and costumes or will they be provided?" He asks as he drinks his tea with a slow and drawn out Sluuuuurrrp.
"Ah, Hairy Man!" Pak returns Dale's hug. "The spirits of the mountain are as they were, do not fear. No this time I'd like you to foster good relations with the locals in Minata. Any information you can bring back about their culture—and this festival in particular— will help the Society properly catalog the information for future use by field agents."
Harjandi adds: "Oh! I am very impressed that you know of Abbinthurtaa, er, 'Hairy Man.' I'm afraid that what you say is true, a minority have started to see the ritual as a quaint irrelevance." The wayang is downcast. “But the rituals are very important to the history of our people! Wayangs from all across Tian Xia were involved in an attempt to return to the Shadow Plane from the site that would become my home of Inahiyi. While we did not succeed, we honour the attempt by means of these rituals.”
She continues, addressing Hayden and Dana: "We conduct our rituals every year. But rarely, when the anniversary of Abbinthurtaa falls on the spring equinox as it does this year, the rituals must vary. For this reason, outsiders are needed. In the rituals you will play the roles of ancients whom the first wayang of Inahiyi had dealings with. Nothing too strenuous. There is a mock fight, a debate, and a feast accompanied by a shadow puppet play. Anything you need for these rituals will be provided, Hairy Man. They are very important to us.” She bows, and then turns to Tenibri: "As a scholar, I am always fascinated to learn about the culture of other wayang, whose forebears never settled in Tian Xia. You will accordingly be treated as an outsider as well, for you are not of Inahiyi. Oh, but that is not to say that you will not be welcomed! On the contrary, you are all to be honoured guests."
"Is there anything else? It's a long trip ahead" says Old Pak. "Harjandi has a ship ready, but you've time to do a little shopping in Ramparassad if you wish. I can do you very favourable rates on Chu Ye shag!"
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Dale smiles and points to Vlazis "I know he's not much of a hugger, but he was with us up on the mountain too. I think he changed his hair style or something... maybe shaved his horns a bit? Hrmm.."
"Well, I would be honored and certainly intrigued to be part of your ceremony. I love trying new things and learning along the way. Would it be a problem if I took notes? Or is this ceremony a more secret affair?" Dale asks with 100% curiosity, dragging a well worn notebook from his pack to make some notes right now actually.
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Hayden nods. "Impressive. A feast and shadow puppets? I shall be honored to represent Taldor in your ceremony. Your people shall know that the knighthoods honor their customs and heritage." It's clear the the old knight seems to be speaking for far more than just himself. It's as if he feels emboldened to carry the standard of every such knight and noble of Avistan.
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Mishka checks the bindings of his mithral breastplate and his starmetal greatsword in its sheath across his back. "I am prepared to embark, as soon the team is ready," Mishka assures the semi-retired Pathfinder leader and their new wayang contact, and he jots down a few notes in his journal, capturing the insights Dale shared and the details provided by Harjandi.
"Vlazis, is that you? Ah, my eyes are getting worse!" Old Pak greets his acquaintance with a warm smile.
"It is no problem if you take notes, Hairy Man" adds Harjandi. "I know of the Pathfinder Chronicles."
"Yes, yes!" says Old Pak. "Take copious notes!"
With no more to do at the tobacco shop, you make your way to the docks.
You sail to Inahiyi on the Spider’s Silk, a trading ship chartered by Harjandi for this very purpose. The mostly human crew is wary of the wayangs, but they do not complain and they do their jobs professionally. During the journey, Harjandi explains the festival. The first event is a mock gladiatorial combat, representing the early clashes between wayangs and native Minatans. The second event is a verbal duel, representing diplomatic negotiations between wayangs and Minatans. The final event is a large feast, complete with elaborate dancing and a shadow-puppet play that is part of the ritual. In these events, she tells you, you will play the roles of the ancient Minatans.
The voyage takes several days, and passes without incident...
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At dawn, Mishka trains as best he can on the deck, maintaining his conditioning and practicing with his gleaming greatsword, the sweeping blows furious and powerful, even while shielding himself from the attacks of an imaginary opponent or anyone else who cares to spar.
Evenings, Mishka clears a space at a cramped table in the quiet galley, and by the light of his wayfinder, writes all he learns in his journal.
During the sea voyage, Mishka speaks with the captain and crew of the Spider's Silk about maritime operations and trade in the region. "You seem a little wary of the wayangs, Cap'n. Can you help us understand the situation?"
Mindful of Old Pak's mission statement to the team: To foster good relations with the locals in Minata and bring back any information about their culture—and this festival in particular— in order to help the Society properly catalog the information for future use by field agents, Mishka joins the rest of the team, discussing the festival, the rules for the mock gladiatorial combat, the verbal duel, and the feast with dancing and shadow-puppets.
"Excuse me, Harjandi, but I didn't catch the name of this festival we're attending. What do the wayangs of Minata call it?" Mishka asks their wayang female contact. "Can you elaborate on what is expected of us, especially the rules of the three main events?"
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Extracts Prepared: Caster Level: 5 Cognatogen: Intellect
. . 1st (6/day) Shield, Monkeyfish,
. . 2nd (3/day) Alchemical Allocation, Levitate, Invisibility
Once we're on dry land he will leave the touch of the sea slot open.
Dale is happy to help Mishka spar on deck, not that he makes a particularly good opponent, but its something Dale really hasn't done much of. He fights primarily with an interesting yellow wood club, covered in Mwangii etchings and runes. "Lots of interesting choices to your attack styles. They vary quite a bit compared to the locals down in the jungles of the Mwangii. They didn't use nearly as much steel as we do here, for obvious reasons. Most weapons are wooden, some were even bone or stone. Fascinating really."
You're pretty sure Dale was more interested in talking than sparring, but at least he tried.
When it comes to asking questions about the coming events Dale at this point just listens. Always getting momentarily distracted when he sees anything of interest, be it clothing, furniture, writings, anything.
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Hayden spends most of his time on the deck of the ship, maintaining watch over the horizon as well as watching the crew go about their tasks. He enjoyed seeing a well-trained team work and marveled at the crew's extensive knowledge of the ship and the small details they ensured were done correctly. Occasionally, joins Mishka is a sparring session, though it's clear the knight's strength is with the bow and he carries the scimitar more out of obligation than any particular skill with it.
Every morning at dawn, you find him above deck, praying to the Dawnflower for her grace and blessings.
The evenings see him offering to ease any wounds the crew has, acting as a medic in the cramped quarters. During meals, he trades stories of his time in the Society, but also in his former life as one of Lord Reyes' cadre of archer-knights. The older knight has a taste for whiskey and ale, but you often see him sipping out of a battered metal mug, though you never see him fill it.
"Harjandi, are there any taboos for the Wayang we should know about? Acts or topics that we should avoid bringing up?"
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Vlazis doesn't join in any sparring, but watches carefully, making mental notes of his new companions' strengths and weaknesses for when they might be called upon to do battle in earnest.
Aside from that he spends time circulating among the crew, making certain to learn the different sailors' names and something personal about each of them. As for Harjandi, Vlazis too is very interested in what laws and customs will govern this event in particular.
Mishka: the crew are careful and polite enough not to tell you whilst either of the two wayangs about might be in earshot, but otherwise they let you know that they find the small humanoids perturbing. "Weird, in't they tho'? It's like all the colour drained out of 'em. Still, gold is gold."
Hayden: the sailors mostly complain of rickets and scurvy, or the bites delivered by the ubiquitous river mosquitoes. They are certainly glad of your salves, but reluctant to take any practical advice from a foreigner.
Tenibri: Harjandi converses with you in your own language.
All: Harjandi notes your interest in the details of her people's laws and the practices associated with the rituals. "The rules of the rituals are mostly straightforward. You will be given masks and ribbons to wear, representing the ancient Minatan heroes. In the mock fight you will do battle with wayangs representing ancient warriors of our people. We will give you wooden weapons so that you do not have to spill any blood. Do not worry, you won't be in any real danger either.
Next, there is a debate that is a re-enactment, of a sort, of those that took place between the ancient Minatans and my ancestors. You will face some of our greatest scholars who will be asking for the help of the Minatan heroes - and you will have to say why you cannot give such help. But, I am sorry if this sounds strange, you are expected to lose the debate. That, after all, is what happened in our history. But you must not appear to lose deliberately! For that would mock the ritual, and the scholars. We do not precisely have a taboo against mockery, Sir Hayden, but it is frowned upon as coarse and impolite.
Lastly, at the feast there is a shadow-puppet play. You will be asked to help present that play, and there are many ways in which you might do that. We will discuss that at greater length when the time comes."
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Dana listens carefully and nods.
“I will do my best to honor the ritual and help you to realize your goals! I have learned a lot from your people and my sister Zaarah and I have enjoyed your people’s hospitality! It is now time to repay my debt and be assured that I will support where ever I can!“ Dana says with more emotions than usually are visible from her.
When you arrive at Inahiyi in the early afternoon,you find the city of over 6,000 wayangs in the middle of bustling preparation.
At the dock, you are met by a wayang wearing an elaborate hat and a nose ring connected to an earring with a length of silver chain.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome! I am Mayor Farzhan! What an immense pleasure it is to have you pathfinders here to help with our little ritual! How exciting! How was your trip? Harjandi didn't bore you too much I hope! Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tell me what you are most looking forwards to about the festival!"
"Farzahn, please! Give our guests time to settle in before you bombard them so" Harjandi rebuffs the rather hyperactive mayor.
"What? Oh yes. Fine. Take them to Unelda's. Quarters have been prepared." Mayor Farzahn looks a little disappointed, but perks up again almost immediately. "I will see you very soon pathfinders! This will be fun!"
The captain of the Spider's Silk tells you he will return tomorrow to take you back to Ramparassad.
Harjandi leads you through the town. Dark gray and black banners are visible on every street corner and stretch between the low buildings. Stalls are erected all over, their occupants hawking special wares and services, such as piercings and skin bleaching. Strange paper lanterns that seem to shed darkness hang in most windows. Despite these obvious festive decorations, the mood of the town is a strange mix of somber and cheerful. The wayangs eagerly greet you, but the streets are absent the cries of merriment or jaunty music that you might expect during a celebration.
You are given rooms at Unelda's, a boarding house. The rooms are obviously sized for wayang visitors, but some attempt has been made to lengthen the beds with comfortable chairs and ottomans. However, the rooms are cramped for all of you save Tenibri, and the claustrophobic feeling this engenders isn’t helped by the drab black and dark purple decor. Unelda, a wrinkled wayang female with bleached skin and a dozen rings through each ear, tells you that you can use the rooms to store your gear.
"There are still a couple of hours before the rituals begin" says Harjandi. "Please, take some time to have a look around our town. Meet me by the arena later. Don't be late!"
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With a stately flourishing wave of his arms, Mishka bows toward the mayor. "Greetings, Excellency! You honor us by meeting us in person. We look forward to a pleasant sojourn in your fair city and are grateful for the invitation to participate in the festival," he says, "What do you call the celebration?"
I'm beginning to think the name of the festival is a closely guarded secret. And the wayangs keep referring to the celebration as a 'ritual.' Hmm...
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Mishka wanders the city, visiting the tattoo parlors with mild curiosity, chatting with the locals to answer the team's intel priorities, and looking for love in all the right places.
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The major gets Dale started... "Oh, a wonderful trip, just wonderful. I'm pretty sure I added three new species to my bird life list, as well as a couple aquatic plants I snagged that floated past!"
Harold quickly pipes in "Aye, and if it wasn't for me grabbing your shirt Dale I think you'd be still bobbing around out there clutching those plants with your cold dead hand!" He grumbles before sliding into the background again NPC style.
Dale gives Harold a dirty look and ignores the rebuttal "So, I do have lots of questions, first of all, what does that chain connecting your rings represent? And, where did you get that hat? Like mine?" He pulls out a sun faded tricorner hat with a sewed small hole in it.
"I claimed it as my prize from a ruthless gang of women that tried killing us in the jungles. I held on to it for days during the race, through winds, rains, floods, and battles. It helps remind me of my time in the Mwangii." Sure enough, if you look close enough there are some blood stains on the rear, right corner.
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Dale checks out his room, takes some more notes and rearranges it, but doesn't leave any of his belongings. He carries all he needs in his haversack and certainly won't leave his precious formula book, nor his alchemy supplies behind. Instead, he follows Mishka out into the city as a tag-a-long, barraging him with nonstop questions and comments about what he sees.
"So what led you to be raised in the Tian lands but born Kellish? You didn't grow up a slave or anything did you?"
Mishka: "Hairy Man already told you the name of the festival, Mishka" says Harjandi "but don't feel bad that you didn't recognise it. There is no translation for the name. I cannot even tell you in Taldane what our word means. It is called 'Abbinthurtaa'."
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Mishka accompanies the young wayang lady Xiha to her favorite tattooist. He leafs through the portfolio of the artist's work. He pauses on one image, pointing to an intricate, stylized moth-like creature. "Fascinating. I believe this The Night Monarch, Desna's herald."
Its wings are brightly colored, and while the exact color and pattern changes with every glance, they always exude sparkling stardust. Its head looks more like a brightly colored moth than a butterfly, and its tail ends in what look like three peacock feathers.
"I am aware that many wayang revere Lao Shu Po as their patron, but I had no idea Mother Moon, too, had devotees among your people."
He smiles at Xiha and approaches the artist. "After the Abbinthurtaa rituals and festivities are complete, I'd like to return and discuss your work. Could you render this as a runeward tattoo, specifically for necromancy?"
He thanks the artist for his time and patience and bids farewell to Xiha. "Thank you for your compassion, Xiha," he says, "But now I must return to my friends and prepare for the rituals."
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After an hour or so, Mishka returns, satisfied and relaxed, to the team's lodgings at Unelda's boarding house, where he meets up with Dale.
"Dale, it's a long story, but if you've the time, I will tell it... "
"I have the stature of my Kellid father and his legendary giant ancestors and a typical Kellid’s light brown skin, long, dark brown hair and dark green eyes. But I inherited my physical grace and fine features from my Tian mother from Minkai."
"I wears this zoic fetish, a small charm made out of bundles of twine hair and stone, crafted for me by my Tian mother, Hwei Yofang, who may have enchanted it with powerful druidic magic."
"Now, let's find the others, compare our notes of what we learned, and get ready for the rituals."
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"I don't really know much, you might need to tell me. We still do the tattoos and piercings in my family, but I get the sense that nobody quite remembers much what they mean anymore." If Harjandi studies the tattoos herself, her eyes confirm this; while well-executed otherwise, the symbolism used is sort of mixed up, and in the wrong places and context when used; there's little intact meaning in them, though they look very nice.
Tenibri spends the hours available wandering and chatting with as many local wayangs as he can. He revels in being able to spend such intense time using his native tongue, though clearly embarrasses himself with his Absalonian accent and his very precise, academic use of the language. He adapts quickly, though, picking up on and then excessively using local idioms in overcompensation when he learns them.
When he returns to the others, he shares some of what he learned.
"Everybody's abuzz about having outsiders at the event today. I think they're all taking it very seriously; the combat players have basically sequestered themselves to prepare! We should probably take this seriously ourselves; both in a sense of making the Society proud, but we might not want to show them up, either, if it looks like we might."
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Vlazis finds that his charms are quite wasted on the locals, but rather than withdraw, he instead spends as much time as he can on learning their conversational pressure points, how much confidence reads as arrogance, how much warmth comes off as insincere, that sort of thing.
He also acquires a Headband of Alluring Charisma to make the rest of the journey smoother...
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Dale listens to Mishka's tale with great interest "Hrm, excellent genetics then, makes sense. Once we're done here I'll explain more in depth on how genetics works if you like. I've done some testing myself on familial traits in all manner of species. Pretty fascinating stuff!"
He heads back with the large man to meet the others. "Rigorous combat? With wooden swords and such.. hrm probably won't take kindly to bombs... not good for me then to contribute." He looks at his scrawny arms and laughs.
Mishka: the tattooist nods in silent assent at your request for a runeward tattoo. He knows very little Taldane, but speaks Tien to you, rightly noting your heritage.
Xiha chooses a new silver ring for her existing nose piercing and settles down on the artist's couch, ready to have a new tattoo inscribed. She snickers and chatters to the tattooist in their own strange language, and blows you a kiss as you depart...
Dale: Mayor Farzahn is very excited to talk to you, but Harjandi urges him to return to his duties. There's a lot for our illustrious leader to do today before the rituals begin" she explains. It seems she has some influence in Inahiyi. "You can get yourself a hat like mine at any of the many festival stalls!" calls the mayor with a grin as he departs. And he's entirely correct. Many of the local wayangs wear such hats, and there are plenty of festival stalls selling them. Even better, when you enquire with one of the stall-holders she lets you choose one for yourself free of charge! "For our honoured guest!"
Tenibri: the locals really open up to you. They are friendly and tolerant of your foreign idiosyncrasies, though they do seem to feel a bit sorry for you. Several locals flirt with you, considering you an attractive well-traveled newcomer.
Vlazis: though you find the locals very polite and sincere, and somewhat formal, they are not warm with you. Perhaps they're intimidated by the devilish regalia. Nevertheless, they have no difficulty accepting your gold.
Hayden: Inahiyi has its share of herbalists. And although there are no large temples of any sort, there are small shrines to a variety of gods, mainly the Tien pantheon but Desna is represented too. You can purchase a variety of herbs, poultices and potions. Other vendors are keen to offer you local delicacies that they assure you have medicinal properties: spicy nuts good for virility, fermented cabbage said to aid digestion, or boiled snails for your ki flow. Noting your pronounced limp one healer extols the virtue of acupuncture twice daily, and offers you a free session.
Dana: the wayangs seem bemused by you. They wonder in awe at your heavy armour (which is making you sweat profusely in the heat). Though too polite to point and stare, they clearly find you an oddity.
All: your general impression is one of welcome. Though you couldn't describe the wayangs as exuberant, they seem generally happy to see you and make small talk. The festival vendors offer you free hats and food, and you are encouraged to visit tattooists and piercers. Indeed, it seems that the most common kind of shop in the city is a tattoo parlour, and almost every wayang you see sports decorative ink, skin bleaching, piercings, or a combination of all three.
The wayangs refuse to take your money for food Hayden, claiming it would be immoral to charge guests to eat. They will accept gold for herb supplies though. The accupuncturist is surprised that his treatment seems ineffective on your 'war wound', though it does give you some temporary comfort.
Mishka gets an ear piercing in the wayang style. Xiha tries to encourage him to get his nipples done too, but the tattooist advises that such intimate piercings are considered something appropriate for courting couples, rather than bachelors. Xiha guffaws at what she considers the artist's prudishness.
Soon enough, you all gather near the arena. The large, wooden structure is quickly filling up with wayangs, and it seems as if almost the whole town must be coming to watch the event.
Harjandi and Mayor Farzhan approach, carrying a tray filled with colourful masks and ribbons. In the otherwise grey city, these colours stand out. The two wayangs explain that as part of the festival, each of you should take on the role of a different historical Minatan hero, wearing the appropriate mask and matching ribbon so that the spectators know which hero each of you is portraying. Harjandi names the six heroes and hints that the spirits of these heroes will be watching over you; "If your actions please the spirits of the ancient heroes, they will surely aid you."
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... About a minute later, he emerges, transformed by more than just the wayang ceremonial mask. The man's long dark hair hangs unbound, and his armor no long conceals the terrible scars.
"I am ready," the Foreigner rasps in a hoarse whisper, everything about his tensed body conveying the potential for extreme violence. "Let us begin."
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"Lai Ligau..." Tenibri mutters. The patterns of his tattoos reflect in the shiny gold mask; without thinking about it directly, he adjusts the mask position so the reflections of his eyes, nose, and mouth line up with the masks figures, superimposing himself on this notorious performer. "I will try to do you justice."
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Dale shrugs and takes the last mask, a bright orange one and fits it over his face. "So, I should probably leave off the hat then?" He asks the other Wayangs, knowing they do love a good hat, but not wanting to be rude.
Dale turns to see The Foreigner and raises an eyebrow, behind the mask "So who's the new guy? You and Mishka like body doubles or something?" He hands him his waterskin "Sounds like you could use a drink, smoking is bad for you!"
He cracks a smile I think I like this Whaoxi fellow!
As Mishka retreats with the mask the mayor and Harjandi look at each other in shock. "Hey, where are you going with that, it's a priceless cultural artifact!" calls Mayor Farzhan. Mishka manages to placate them, and a minute later the Foreigner appears. Mayor Farzhan looks at the Foreigner, and then to Harjandi, and the two wayangs shrug.
"Now that you have donned the masks of heroes, please do not take them off for the duration of the ritual!" Harjandi tells you. "This is important!"
With your masks and ribbons on, your hosts lead you under the arena into a waiting area bedecked with dozens of different weapons, all of them made of wood.
"The ritual will begin very soon. Please, exchange your usual weapons for wooden ones. Nobody should suffer any real injuries in this ritual - it is a mock battle. It would be very bad if anybody was killed. When you have armed yourselves go through those doors" she points to a set of large wooden doors ahead of you "and you will emerge into the arena. Then wait for the Mayor to signal the start."
"Good luck!" calls the mayor as he and Harjandi leave you. "You'll be great! I know it!"