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"While it is true that I served Honaria Alcasti, my services are not exclusive to her bloodline and I have since been shipped off to new lands where I have found need of my assistance in battle!"
"A true warrior acknowledges that not all wars are fought in the field and that many a decisive battle is won at court and counsel," replies Claremeguard. "A simple blade may end one's life, but it can neither pierce one's honor nor slash one's schemes. The most powerful weapons are those that are rarely drawn and, yet, still provide strength to the righteous, protection to the reputable, and defense to the honorable."
Claremguard recalls the record of transfer for the sword that the party was provided, then adds, "You, Fine Blade, have an opportunity to prove your sharpness and might arise not merely from forge, but also from will."
"Whatever the reason he sold his blade to my family, he must have had his reasons. But yes, let us discuss in front of Mother and see what she says." says the young Aayef, diplomatically, before the sword cuts in.
"Aayef's sister will never wield me, as she is neither worthy nor capable. Aayef has more backbone than some generals I’ve known throughout the centuries. Why should I care about Honaria's descendant at this point? do you find him worthy yourself?"
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With Remaio's honor now in question, which Stavarg had hoped to avoid, he grasps for something convincing...
Truth be told, we do not yet know. But his current endeavors may prove him out more fully and we do believe in the honor of the ancestor he tries to restore honor for. Thankfully you experienced that honor first-hand, so we're of the mind of aid him and provide the opportunity.
And, while he might be doing this selfishly for a noble title, we'll avoid that subject for now...
"Agreed, Elf Master. While we walk, what tales of heroism can you bring to my ears, adventurers? what personal obstacles of note have you faced? what kind of heroes does this descendant of Honaria has surrounded himself with in order to regain his lost honor? are Honaria's deeds in question or just this fellow's deeds, or lack thereof?"
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I am no hero. I serve my goddess, Pharasma, who will dictate my Fate. I'm not a fighter, but I consider it my religious duty to destroy undead to the best of my abilities. I try to act with calm and wisdom, I tend to choose my words, I heal those who are hurt, I bury those who are slained. Not everyone is destined to be a hero, and history has told us that sometimes people who present themselves as heroes weren't up to their words. Maybe, in the future, I'll do a great good deed. Only Pharasma knows. But I won't call myself a hero, even if that title might be given to me by others. Living and being true to yourself, despite the odds and the temptations for easier paths, can be a form of heroism, and I don't aspire about more than that.That is my honest answer.
"Good answers, Nameless One... good answers... well rehearsed they seem. If you fail at being a hero, I sense a great career politician in you. At least you are being honest with yourself, about not being hero, which is not always the case with the majority of sellswords I've encountered throughout the centuries."
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Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Mallycorn Tavee. I'm more used talking about my goddess and my beliefs than about myself. And they weren't rehearsed. I just spoke my mind in clear terms. Honesty should always begin with oneself, I believe. If you're not honest with yourself, how could you be honest with others? You must admit your weaknesses as your strenghts, your triumphs as your failures.
"The mark of a great leader is to recognize those strengths and weaknesses in others, not just yourself. Most soldiers have a desire to help the unit, and a great leader will enable them to contribute in the best way possible. Soldiers also understand that their leader is not flawless, and will shore up a leader's skills if they lack in a certain area. The point of all this is that in the heat of battle, a soldier must trust his comrades with his life and charge ahead, knowing that they have his back. THAT is my definition of heroism. Solo missions or grandstanding and hogging of the spotlight doesn't win battles. Tell me of such tales of your travels where you have experienced life or death situation with your trusted brothers and sisters!"
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With previous companions, my first mission was to rescue an heir held hostage. We managed to free her without any fight, just by persuasion. There was some tense bargaining sometimes, but no one got killed. With this current band of allies, we fought an angered and desperate druid, but no one was killed. Then we defeated a band of ratmen robbers, without excessive bloodshed. Not every confrontation should end in a bloody fight, with people killed. A reasonable man doesn't use his sword each and every time a problem arise, because sooner or later someone will defeat him. But every situation can't be defused by words. You can't reason a scorpion. If it attacks, you must defend yourself. There is an equilibrum to acheive between diplomacy and martila skill.
Mallycorn takes a few seconds of reflexion
As you might have sensed earlier, we fought the scorpion as a team. Those who could fight it by sword attaked, those who used spell did it. Our objective was to keep young Aayef alive, as was yours: you used curative spells to sustain his health. That's why, while the creature was occupied by my partners, and knowing I am not much a fighter myself, I circled the beast to take care of the swordbearer, by magical and mundane means. Each of us used his own strenghts,and knowing his limits, did whatever was most useful to contribute to our main goal, saving Aayef.
"Are there others than Mallycorn in your group who have performed heroic deeds? I see six of you assembled before us..." says the sword, expecting your names and list of heroic deeds.
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Stavarg exhibits a jolt, and if a heavy hint-foot stomped somewhere inside his head...
Well, if you must know I'm Stavarg, and the lot of us just pacified an angry druid who was clutching his pearls on behalf of a peaceful, talking tree who wouldn't have it. We then learned the location of, and recovered items related to Honaria's glory in that region. No deaths involved. That seems pretty heroic.
"Splendid! I remember that talking tree! very wise, but completely unguarded... it's a wonder he's still alive after all the centuries! I see a youngster among you, as well as lovely lady and a straight-backed knight. Please present yourselves."
"I have not had your name yet, young one. I also see and hear a rather tall and heavily armored human among you who has spoken earlier... identify yourselves please and tell me a tale in which you have risked yourselves for others. Thank you."
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"What? Oh! I'm Jimmothy Gettum from Pallet--um Mister (or is it Missus) Glory?" Jimmothy waits for the blade's name, hoping he can just call it 'Soldier' or 'Sol'.
"Well you see it all begins many, many years ago when I was 10...."
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"While we walk, what tales of heroism can you bring to my ears, adventurers? what personal obstacles of note have you faced? what kind of heroes does this descendant of Honaria has surrounded himself with in order to regain his lost honor? are Honaria's deeds in question or just this fellow's deeds, or lack thereof?"
"I am Claremguard, known also as the Brightsword, for a have pledged my heart, and thus also my sword, to the Light of the Sword herself, the goddess of righteous valor, justice, and honor, to Iomadae." replies the knight come Pathfinder. "Though I am Taldane by birth, I state not my surname as it is for my service, not family, that I wish to be known."
"As her one of her devout, I adhere to the tenants of her teachings in my effort to emulate her perfection. I strive to channel her strength through my body and to shine in her name, not tarnishing her glory through base actions." he expounds. "I have pledged never to abandon a companion, though I do honor the sacrifice freely given. I endeavor to guard the honor of my fellows, both thought and deed, and I remain steadfast in my faith to them."
"You have asked for tales of heroism and there are many to share. During my training in the temple of Iomedae, I committed to memory many heroic deeds of the goddess, but it seems that what you truly seek are tales of our own deeds." Claremguard notes. "You have heard, already of the druid and ratfolk that these companions and I have most recently faced. Earlier still, I, along with other Pathfinders, traversed parts of Golarion in an effort to uncover clues left by an agent no longer with us. With them I faced a swarm that threatened to devour historical treasures, set free a fey that had been duped into maintaining a cursed forest blight, and overcame vicious goblins and the ire of dead dwarves slain by kinsman that they had trusted. Those journeys revealed problems that once plagued the Society itself. Yet, rather than abandon my fellow Pathfinders due to ill deeds by some, I have renewed by commitment to the Silver Crusade and the Society, working to ensure that it remains a force for good in the world."
"Prior to my admittance in the Society, among other foes, I faced poisonous, giant spiders, a false prophet of a false god, and a tomb robber of noble blood, who was willing to murder in the name of her family--an affirmation that I was wise to set aside my own surname so as not to allow it to become a source of pride, greed, or temptation." Claremguard continues.
"As for Honoria and her descendant, I have no reason to speak ill of either or their honor." he notes. "Indeed, the evidence we have uncovered appears to support that tales of Honoria's deed. Further, my devotion to the goddess causes me to see to completion my tasks for the Society, as long as such does not further a known evil. The goddess, herself, was a servant of Aroden prior to her ascent. Would I not, then, aspire to be a worry and faithful servant in this matter?"
The holy knight pauses for a moment, then inquires, "Have my words, sated your curiosity, Worthy Weapon? If not, then I am happy to expound further as to any matters that may be of more interest to you."
You all convince Glory to present evidence supporting Remaio’s claim to nobility, but the sword reserves the right to change its decision after she meets the man. Some of you understand that Glory still cares deeply about Honaria Alcasti. Glory graces you all with an account of how, after defeating an enemy battalion in the Conquest, Honaria turned opponents to her cause by treating her prisoners with dignity. The blade believes that Taldor only lost the war because insufficient resources prevented Honaria from implementing her masterful tactics.
You also convince Aayef to return home, where his mother greets him affectionately. Aayef’s resolve to seek adventure has not dimmed, but he has learned his lesson about charging off alone.
After you explain your purpose in Qadira, Lady Ghazali allows you all to leave with Soldier’s Glory - for the moment on loan, she explains that future details of this arrangement will be brought forward to Remaio directly.
Back in Taldor, Remaio is relieved to see the blade, and he asks you if the rumors about it are true. Upon hearing this, the blade addresses Remaio directly and explains her intent to restore Honaria’s good name. To this effect, she addresses Claremguard, "Noble Paladin, I would assist you until the end of this mission, if you will wield me. What say you?"
Aayef bows to the sword solemnly and presents it to the paladin, kneeling while holding the sword up above his head. Claremguard, upon grasping Soldier's Glory you become immediately aware of her powers:
The next day, Remaio meets you at the lodge again. "If you're up for the next adventure, let me know and I'll coordinate the transport. You fine lady and gentlemen are heading near Almas next. That's in Andoran, by the way." clarifies Remaio to those of you who appear to have a question mark above their head at the mention of Almas.
Remaio asks you to visit his distant cousin, Vereena Alcasti, and investigate her trove of family heirloom for evidence of Honaria’s accomplishments. He tells you that she lives in the rural Carpenden region of Andoran (northeast of Almas).
Remaio provides you all with a map of Andoran’s countryside and pays for your transportation costs. After traveling by boat to Almas, Andoran’s capital, you journey via carriage across the Carpenden Plains, along increasingly narrow roads. Along the way, you pass dozens of small farming villages. Vereena’s homestead is isolated, several miles from the nearest village. The final stretch of the journey takes you all on footpaths that are barely wide enough for a single horse, let alone a carriage.
Then you finally see fields of overgrown crops surround a squat, shingle-roofed farmhouse. A pair of clay pots filled with cheerful yellow marigolds stands to either side of the house’s front door. Broken boards covered in graffiti are nailed over the door and windows.
The painted words across the boards are written in a strange language...
A rusty tin bell hangs from a bit of twine near the door. Ringing the bell produces no response from within. Both exterior doors are secured with rusty old locks.
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"So now can I swing it?"
"No."
A rusty tin bell hangs from a bit of twine near the door. Ringing the bell produces no response from within. Both exterior doors are secured with rusty old locks.
Claremguard glances at the elf. "Any grace in deciphering it?" he asks. Glancing again at the door and the nonfunctioning bell, the paladin sighs, then suggests, "We could, I suppose, simply knock."
Cillian determines this is written in Draconic. No one answers the door.
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Stavarg walks up past the group, asking with minor irritation in his tone. Did you knock hard enough?
He pounds on the door more forcefully. The, sighing at Claremguard. Look, just let him swing it for a few minutes. It'll end the whole thing, I swear.
He has all of the patience of an adventurer who rode out to rural country... slowly... in a carriage.
Fine, we'll try around back.
He stomps away survey the other side of the house.
As you circle around the house you see that the chicken coop doors have been opened and you can spot a few of the loose birds clucking in the fields and forest yonder. You also see a patch of loose dirt in the backyard.
Stavarg and Claremguared see a well-worn shovel lying on top of a barrel right next to them, on the other side of the picket fence. It has been recently used...
The backyard fence is ajar (hence the chicken in the fields...) and the backyard leads to a simple wooden door.