Noble Pathfinders,
As the Worldwound’s threat grows, the forces of many nations unite with the common goal of beating back the demon horde. I have been building my own army that I intend to field alongside the Pathfinders. In order to increase our numbers and bolster our resolve, we must have a symbol to rally around, one that embodies might equal to that of the golden age of Taldor. My agents have recently discovered that one such item, the Horn of Aroden, has survived since the Age of Enthronement, and is still in the possession of its original owners, House Lebeda. Alas, whatever magic was bestowed on it when it helped to drive Deskari’s forces into the Lake of Mist and Veils has since faded, but through careful study, we may be able to find a way to restore its powers. Dame Sarrona Lebeda has graciously offered to allow us access to this item, though how much access is yet unclear. Ideally, it would remain in possession of the Pathfinder Society while being studied and—gods willing—restored, and then will be sent to the Mendevian front.
Do your best to persuade Dame Lebeda to permit this transfer. No doubt she will require some task of you in order for you to claim the Horn of Aroden—one simply does not part with such a treasure on a whim! Remember that she and her family are influential in Brevoy and beyond, and winning their friendship could bring great benefits in the future.
Eagerly anticipating news of your success,
Lady Gloriana Morilla
With this missive, the lot of you are sent on your way to the fractious nation of Brevoy. After a slow journey up the East Sellen River and across Lake Reykal, you finally arrive at Silverhall, the fortified capitol of House Lebeda. It's obvious that word of your mission preceded you, as you are ushered into Dame Lebeda's audience hall with little fuss and much haste. A fire burns merrily in the large hearth of the audience chamber, casting warm light over the long wooden table and high-backed chairs.
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Magellia is tall and lithe wearing leather armor with a rapier by her side. He skin is blue and purple with lines of nano circuitry visible on her face and head as well as down her arms.
[/b]"Hello. I assume you are the others in the expedition party."[/b]
Her voice is pleasant and doesn't have the jarring disjointedness of some androids though after listening for a little there is something just a little unnatural about her phrasing and tone.
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Thorek glances up from his stack of notes and calculations, squinting at the android with eyes used to long hours of reading in dim light.
"Aye, to retrieve the Horn of a dead god. Hell of a story." Closing his book, the dwarf extends an ink- and chemical-stained hand. "Name's Thorek, of Clan Stonecask way back in Janderhoff."
The dwarf is of average height for his kind, though less muscular than the stereotypical dwarf. Dozens of pouches and and containers are attached to a bandolier/harness fastened over his armor, and his grey eyes are sharp and alert over a thick black beard that could be considered grand if it weren't for a half-dozen burnt patches.
"You're one of them 'roids, the golem-folk? Pleased to meet ya."
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Looking back from over the river, Bahram comments "I sometimes wonder why we are called Pathfinders instead of River Travelers."
Hearing the exchange from Magellia and Thorek, Bahram offers Magellia a half-cocked smile and a nod to Thorek. Bahram has skin a shade darker than the typical green of a halfie. He has light billowy pants, curled tipped boots, and a sash with a red gold ankh wrapped around his waist that certainly places his home environment to be somewhere on the sandy dunes of some desert or other. This makes his choice of armor even more curious, it is a breastplate made from wood.
Letting his eyes rest on Magellia for a moment longer than Thorek, his eyebrows raise a smidge at the mention of a 'roid'.
"Quite the tale indeed. I wonder if it were not made to summon dragons, or bring down great walls! More likely it repels demons, given where it's headed." Bahram extends a large callused hand to Thorek, making sure to keep his greataxe from swinging forward as he bends a bit at the waist. "I am Bahram. Bahram al-Urgug." He then turns to Magellia and offers to take her hand and bow to kiss the back of her hand. Thisis not something that he normally does, though he has seen people back home do it plenty of times. He did it more out of curiosity of the 'roid.
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A dark blue undine woman gracefully climbs over the rail of the boat, streaming river water from her swim. Svelte and scantily clad, she picks up her chain belt and straps it around herself before turning her limpid turquoise eyes toward the group. Smizing warmly, she greets them as she squeezes the water from her high ponytail of tight blue-black braids: "Well met, everyone! I am Laafdahni Riverrun. It has been so long since I could swim in a river; I simply had to jump in!"
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"I'm pleased to meet you also Thorek." Magellia replies to Thorek. "Yes, I am an Android from Numeria. Golem folk is not an accurate description however, our making is not of this world."
Magellia allows Bahram to kiss her hand though is clearly bewildered by the action. Her skin is metallic and cool to the touch and unnaturally smooth.
As Laafdahni boards the boat her confusion continues.
"Why does her swim effect your enjoyment of your employment? As why does the presence of the river force you to swim?
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"Golem folk is not an accurate description however, our making is not of this world."
"Golems come from all over, but I take your meaning." Torvald nods at Bahram in greeting, but rolls his eyes at the half-orc's response to Laafdahni's arrival.
Magellia's confusion prompts the dwarf to look askance at the android. 'I genuinely cannot tell if you're putting us on," he tells them.
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Confusion deepening Magellia pauses for a moment considering Torvald’s
” I assume from context that by ‘putting us on’ you mean being dishonest in my questioning. If so then I can assure you I will not deceive those who aid me. That would be completely illogical as it would do nothing but hinder our synergy.”
The light of her eyes fades slightly, ”If I have erred I am sorry. The nuances of social niceties are foreign to me. I spent most of my life as a slave to the Technic League were we were treated as you would a forge or an anvil. Actually from what I know of dwarf culture I suspect that is not a reasonable comparison as I believe your tools are respected and cared for which was not the case for me.”
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Torvald nods slowly at this, then waves Magellia closer before whispering. "Laafdahni loves swimming so much, she couldn't resist doing it now. She was comparing it to being compelled by magic because she feels so strongly about it. Bahram was expressing his delight that that this job has him working with Laafdahni, because she is pretty. I hope this helps."
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Torvald chortles a bit. "Me? I'm gorgeous. Laafdahni is, ah, not my type, if you take my meaning." He chuckles again but then stops as he considers the android, and shakes his head. "Actually you probably don't, nevermind. But yes, I suppose she's pretty. She's slim, athletic, seems vivacious. For some reason the word "svelte" comes to mind. I get it, Bahram is a young fellow and they tend to let their hormones lead the way."
He leans away and gives Bahram a nod of agreement. "My bombs serve well enough in a fight, but I prefer the jobs where I don't have to use them. But Pathfinders have, ah, a certain reputation, so I suspect Dame Lebeda has a use for our particular skills in mind. Keep your axe sharp, al-Urgug, think it's likely that you'll need it before we're done."
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A man of moderate height bustles into the scene dropping a few papers from his overloaded hands, "Shyka damned, I'm late aren't I?" He jingles slightly from all of the gear strapped to his back or hanging from his belt or bandolier. Dressed in tian style armor with small overlapping plates of metal covered with a vibrantly colored vest with a few clock faces on it, he seems ready to fight... if it wasn't for the complete lack of weapons that is. There is a sledge hammer strapped to his pack but tat seems about it.
He jingles up to the group as he starts to organize the papers in hand. "Morning! You also here about that letter from Lady Morilla? I'm Yates, Yates Ashkoont. Nice to meet you."
He looks around at the group and gives a start at the sight of Magellia. "Wait, and android? A constructed person? Wow it's such a treat to meet one of you. Might I have your name? You'll definitely have to tell me about where you come from."
He then spots the undine and stops for a moment. "Daaang... Uh, pleasure to meet you Miss Undine. If you want I should have a towel in my pack that could help you dry off."
He looks then at the half-orc and the giant axe.
Bahram hefts his great axe, as if considering it. "it seems as though this is to be a purely diplomatic mission. That should be a nice change of pace, eh? We might even be wined and dined instead of being shot at it hexxed. Is that too much to ask?"
Yates gives a smile, "Wave that thing around and I'm sure not many people would be want to shot or hex you... but then also probably not wine and dine you either. But I'd also prefer not to have to fight anything."
He finally locks eyes with the dwarf. "Bombs, eh? I'd love to learn how you use them, but I'm okay with throwing what ever comes to hand personally. Rocks work surprisingly well!"
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Yates's eyes narrow at the mention of being a slave. He stops and rolls up his sleeves showing badly healed scars from what was likely a whip. With a look of compassion in his eyes. "I can guess how terrible that must have been for you. I use to be a slave in Absalom, at least until the city banned slavery during the invasion years back. I hope they at least treated you better than, well, a regular slave."
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Smiling back at Laafdahni, he simply shakes his head and says, "I love my job... Well met.". Patting himself on the chest one time he nods and says, "Bahram"
Bahram receives an amused nod in return.
"Daaang... Uh, pleasure to meet you Miss Undine. If you want I should have a towel in my pack that could help you dry off."
Mirth twinkles in her eyes as Laafdahni responds: "Thank you, no. I prefer to air-dry."
At the mention of slavery, warm concern flows across her features and posture. She steps over to Magellia and Yates and gently puts a hand on each of their arms (not the scarred section that Yates revealed, but a clothed part). "All forms of slavery cause harm. I a glad that you are now free." Her rich voice pours forth, bringing to mind an image of a lazy river, inexorably wending its way past its banks to the wide, open ocean where it can be free.
A pair of guards opens the engraved wooden doors, and a regal woman enters, her hair tied into a tight bun. The guards stay by her side as she scans the room and then takes a seat at the head of the table.
“You must be Lady Morilla’s Pathfinders. I am Dame Sarrona Lebeda, and I am well aware of your desire for the Horn of Aroden. I am sympathetic to the cause of the crusade, and am curious to learn whether the Horn’s magic can be returned; however, the horn has already been pledged to King Noleski Surtova as a fitting part of the dowry for my daughter’s hand in marriage, and such promises cannot be overturned lightly. Nonetheless, I am willing to find a replacement gift in exchange for one kindness on your part: bring my son back home.
“As of late, my son Lander has been neglecting his duties in favor of playing the part of an adventurer. His swordplay admittedly shows promise, but wielding a weapon is only one facet of being a proper lord. Worse, the style and legacy that he has become obsessed with is that of Baron Aldori, which
many houses perceive as a sign that we are not as committed to a unified Brevoy as we may appear. The truancy of a second child may not seem much of a threat, but with his older sister spending her days in the capitol negotiating the web of Surtova politics, the increase of bandit activity and wolf attacks in our lands, and Lander neglecting his responsibilities within our holdings, I am concerned that he is as much a liability to our family as an asset. You are adventurous types yourselves, and understand the hazards and difficulties of the lifestyle. Perhaps you could find Lander and convince him that the way of the sword is not the life he romantically envisions?”
“Many years ago, it was capable of sounding a note so pure and wondrous that the hearts of goodly folk filled with awe and courage, and the hearts of the wicked filled with fear. It gained these powers when it was blown to sound the arrival of Aroden at the Lake of Mists and Veils, when he shattered the armies of Deskari and drove Deskari’s demon avatar into the lake. Alas, whatever magic the horn once contained appears to have been lost with Aroden’s disappearance. Now, it is little more than a memento of our family’s proud history.”
Dame Lebeda's attention turns to Laafdahni, and she answers after a moment's hesitation. "My son has always been fascinated by stories of bravery and derring-do. When he was a child, he spent hours questioning soldiers, guards, and mercenaries about their campaigns and fights against monsters, and his collection of Brevic military histories is second to none in Silverhall. My hope is that the words of Pathfinders will carry more weight with him than mine, particularly when it comes to the dangers of adventuring."
"As for where he can be found, Lander has taken to associating with a blacksmith named Marek Bogdan. Marek is a retired soldier and a practitioner of the Aldori style, and Lander says he’s a fine instructor, but my son spends too many hours at the Three Tongs smithy practicing his swordplay when he should be overseeing our cottars and building alliances. He was headed to the Three Tongs when last I saw him, two days ago.”
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Mirth twinkles in her eyes as Laafdahni responds: "Thank you, no. I prefer to air-dry."
What ever the undine is trying to express seems to go right over Yates's head. He nods, "If you wish."
At the mention of slavery, warm concern flows across her features and posture. She steps over to Magellia and Yates and gently puts a hand on each of their arms (not the scarred section that Yates revealed, but a clothed part). "All forms of slavery cause harm. I a glad that you are now free." Her rich voice pours forth, bringing to mind an image of a lazy river, inexorably wending its way past its banks to the wide, open ocean where it can be free.
Yates gives her a warm grin in response. "I am glad that we are too. I truly wish that it didn't exist anymore, anywhere, but that will take time and efforts."
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At the lady's place, Yates watches the grandoise house with interest, curious at the artifacts and things in the building. He listens with only half an ear to what the lady says. "Could we possibly convince the blacksmith to move shop up here? Practice his swordplay in the safety of home? Or possibly convince him that pathfinders could teach him just as well?"
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As ever the complexities these Terran people add to the process of reproduction for the continuation of their races continue to mystify Magellia
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Magellia listens to Lady Surtova silently, her expressions muted as always.
Once the others have asked their questions she adds her own thoughts.
"Should your son refuse would you require us to bring him back forcibly? Obviously you don't want any injury or harm for him but is that the next step for us should all other forms of persuasion fail?"
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Patting placating hands at Magellia, "Oh, I'm sure it won't come to that Magellia. I have the utmost confidence in our diplomatic abilities."
After Dame Lebeda does, or does not, answer Bahram asks, "Is this blacksmith fellow a particularly bad influence, or just encouraging Lander's more adventurous side?"
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You have heard a couple things about Marek Bogden. The first is, as Dame Lebeda said, he owns the Three Tongs smithy and is a skilled artisan who specializes in making weapons. The second is that Marek trained to become an Aldori swordlord for several years before moving south to Silverhall.
"It is not where Lander practices his swordplay that concerns me, it is the neglect of his duties as a noble of this House."
Dame Lebeda's eyes widen briefly at Magellia's question, before she calms herself and nods at Bahram. "I hope your confidence is well-founded. As for the blacksmith, I believe it is more the latter. I've never met the man, but Lander is fond of him."
"Anything is possible, though I've no indications that's the case. If you turn up anything of the sort, of course, I would like to know it."
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"I have no further questions your honor, er, Dame Lebeda. We will bring your son back with a new outlook on life!" He says with his most charming smile as he looks around at the rest of companions for affirmation.
[I]How the hell are we supposed to do that? Lie.[I] Bahram discusses with himself.
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Laafdahni gives a thoughtful nod, lost in thought. I really hope I don't have to dress like a dowdy dowager. If he has the same reaction as Bahram and Yates, this could be difficult. The though of all that itchy, restrictive fabric dragging as she swims is enough to make her teeth ache.
Once the group has left, she asks: "So, shall we go straight to Marek Bogdan's smithy, or would anyone like to stop somewhere first?"
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Yates stops and thinks for a second, before asking the woman one last question. "I don't know how achievable this would be, not having met your son, or knowing much about the man or swordplay he is enamored with, but if we could convince him to trade his obsession for this swordplay style with a Pathfinder obsession instead would that be better? It might be easier to re-direct his passion than dam it entirely."
But once things have settled about the questions and everyone is ready to set off, Yates hefts his pack and looks at Laafdahni. "Smithy first sounds good! Also are you not cold wearing that little?"
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"We may have an angle on this Lander guy. He wants to be an Aldori Swordlord. I think that a history lesson may be in order. The Aldori Swordlords ruled Rostland for generations. They didn't just rule because they could twirl their blades prettily though, they were influential nobles. They also took pride in their standing. Lander is neglecting his noble duties and besmirching his pride, a true Aldori Swordlord would not stand for that. This blacksmith, Marek. I've heard that he trained to be a swordlord for a time before moving south. I wonder if that is because he is not up to snuff? I would hate to insult Mr. Bogdan, but if Lander realized that he was studying under a failed student, we may be able to pry him away easier."
Looking to Laafdahni, and her suggestion of the smithy, Bahram replies, "Yes, I think that the Three Tongs makes the most sense after we gather more intel."
"If that is all, I will leave you to your work. If you have anything to report, I should like to hear of it immediately." With that, Dame Lebeda stands and departs from the room as quickly as she entered it.
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After some time swapping stories with some of the guards and mercenaries at the local taverns, Bahram meets back up with the group after their forays into the city.
"Okay, so I have a bit more on this Bogden guy. Apparently he has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to authority, especially inherited authority...like Landen. Interesting right? I imagine that he is filling the kids head with things about how his family's privileged life is poisoning him and he needs to earn what he wants on his own. We might have to turn the kid against Bogden. Show how he did not even finish his sword training. I wonder if we can make contact with the Aldoris and find someone to train in his both sword and state?"
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"Also are you not cold wearing that little?"
Laafdahni's lilting laugh is reminiscent of a burbling stream tumbling over rocks long worn smooth by the passing of water. "Haha! No; I love the cold. It's invigorating!"
As Bahram shares his information, a warm smile flows from Laafdahni's lips to her eyes. "My, you are a wealth of information! Hmm... Yes, we can definitely work with that. Pointing out that he cannot be an Aldori Swordman if he neglects his noble duties and that his mentor may have mean-hearted ulterior motives for taking Landor under his wing are both good cards to play. We should find out if Marek Bogden has been completely honest with Lander Lebeda about his past before we make any accusations, though. Our cause would deflate rapidly if we fall flat like that."
Mild concern creases her brow. "Now, there is something that has been on my mind, gentlemen. Please be honest. Do you think I need to buy some boring clothes? I am aware that many males enjoy looking at me, and I do not want Lander to think that he will have constant...'companionship' of this sort if he chooses to become an adventurer. At the very least, you should all please emphasize that there are very few attractive females in the adventuring business if the subject comes up, whether or not you think so. Of course, if I'm not his type, this will be a moot point. Who knows, we may all have to say the same about any one of you." She ends with a sly wink at the guys.
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Laafdahni's lilting laugh is reminiscent of a burbling stream tumbling over rocks long worn smooth by the passing of water. "Haha! No; I love the cold. It's invigorating!"
Yates gives a shrug and seems happy to leave it at that. "If that is what you wish. I'd be freezing without a good sweater right now, but then I'm not an undine either!"
Yates listens to the information that Bahram starts sharing and frowns heavily. "Don't enjoy hearing that someone might be poisoning anyone against their family. I can understand wanting to have a merit based system but that would lead to the political collapse here if pushed too heavily. I would hate to have to convince him his hero is less than heroic."
Yates steps back and gives Laafdahni a look over with very dispassionate eyes. "You're a bit uncovered but I think you might be okay as is. Other cultures wear that little as well, just generally not at this time of year. If you're truly worried then you can get a shawl or something like it to wear over your shoulders and covers things without being restrictive. I will try pressing the issue about woman adventures running the gambit of attractiveness as much as male adventurers do." He does give a grin at the idea of the man swinging the other way. "Hrmm, it could explain some of his interest in swords and the blacksmith."
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"OR," Thorek harumphs, "we could stop hemming and hawing about what Laafdahni is wearing and focus on the mission. Besides, you're all confusing poor Magellia. Let's walk and talk!"
Jars and vials clinking away, the dwarf sets off towards the Three Tongs. "That was good information on the smith, Bahram. Working the swordlords-were-also-nobles angle isn't a bad idea. Depending on how idealistic the boy is, we could also emphasize that the power and money a noble house has are valuable assets for making others' lives better."
Guided by the information you've gathered, you make for Marek's shop. Racks of weapons and metalwork line the walls of the Three Tongs smithy, and the forge is visible through a wide door. A pair of crossed Aldori dueling swords hangs on the wall opposite the front door. The antlers of several deer and elk decorate the walls. A staircase wraps around the eastern wall, leading upstairs.
In the back of the smithy, there is a man hard at work, who quickly notices your group and comes out to greet you. "Welcome, welcome! My name is Marek. You strike me as the sort to have an eye for quality equipment. What can I get you?"
Marek is a bald Taldan man approaching middle age. His skin has been rendered leathery by years of working the forge, and his black beard and eyebrows are patchy, likely from occasional sparks.
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Humans like small talk before business.
Magellia nods in greeting
”Hello Marek. I like rapiers, what can you show me?”
She draws her own blade. A long sleek well made rapier with an odd shaped hilt that seems to have clasps of some sort though their purpose isn’t immediately obvious though someone might guess they slot into something.