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The interior of the Silver Spoon Inn and Tavern is as elegant as the name would imply, featuring a black marble bar top and gilt chairs, freshly upholstered in rich leather. On opposite ends of the room are two polished ebony tables, one laden with decadent trays of charcuterie and cheese, while the other holds simple crusts of bread served on fine porcelain platters beside silver ewers of clear water. Finely dressed patrons mill about, drinking and gossiping, while a few individuals clad all in white stand aloof from the crowd.
Venture-Captain Kristoff Valicho gestures for an employee to take over behind the bar before joining you at a corner booth. “Welcome to the Silver Spoon, friends! You must be the team I asked the Grand Lodge to send me. I’m Kristoff, what are your names?”
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You see before you a tall, muscular, ulfen woman. She is heavily armed and armored and carries a shield. She pounds her gauntleted fist on her shield and speaks loudly in a heavy Skald accent.
"I'm Astrid Gretasdottir, shield maiden. I travel the path of glory. I'm stealthier than moonlight and fiercer than a summer storm. I've killed more men than winter and drunk enough ale to sink an armada."
She takes a large swig from a tall mug and wipes her mouth on her sleeve.
"Aye, I'm your pathfinder, for as long as fame follows and the skalds pay heed. I hope your task proves more glorious than the pitiful errand that brought me to this land of coin-counters. Can you imagine? Me? Delivering a parcel to some merchant? Sure there were bandits along the way but hardly enough to fill a limerick, much less an epic tale of heroism."
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Kamil is an handsome well dressed human male. Clearly of chelaxian origin, he strangely has the tan skin of people more accustomed to jungle and sun than Cheliax climax. He moves gracefully into the room, his armor clinging lightly as he walks. His eyes are cold, as his smile, and at his side a blade of Tian origin.
With a flourished bow he presents himself. Greetings! I'm Bronz... I'm Patfhinder Kamil Durus, Connoisseur of both Arts and Blade.
I've just comeback from the training of new recruits for the Pathfinders. I was my first time with the Hobgoblins of Oprack. Good agents.
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You see a slim young man in colorful cloths. He wears light armor and has a bow. Sadly for all involved you cannot see his face very well for he wears goggles and a mask that looks like a smiling clown.
"Greetings all. I am Herondal Lapetty. Bard, Actor, businessman, and of course a Pathfinder. Travel and adventure are a wonderful combination."
Peering at Oskar "You look familiar. Have we met?"
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"My name is Quinoline Silicate."
Quinoline is a female human, not visibly armed, but has two bandoliers full of mysterious liquids. She's wearing a pair of high-quality glasses, with her hair pulled back into a utilitarian ponytail.
"I was on my way back to Absalom from the River Kingdoms when I got the missive. A group of us helped to set up a Pathfinder Lodge in - of all places - Razmiran."
"I stayed a few extra days to help put some stained glass windows in the new building. The sand there is exceptionally dirty - the glass didn't turn out the way I wanted, at all. I guess I've been spoiled by the fine, low-iron sands of the Inner Sea."
She looks around and furrows her brow.
"I don't think I've ever gone on a mission with any of you. But I'm happy to meet new people, and I confess that the voyage has been a little lonely - most of the other Pathfinders didn't stay a second longer in Razmiran than they had to."
Quinoline also carries a bag of broken glass. She's a big fan of recycling glass, especially the high-quality glass typically used for potion vials. She'll gladly recycle any broken or used glass you have, but if it contained poisons, she politely requests that you triple-rinse it with hot water to get rid of any traces.
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A human man with glasses enters the Silver Spoon, his backpack overflowing with scrolls. He is currently pouring over one as he sits down for the briefing, "Sorry, I'll just be a minute...have to read the latest report from both sides of the council in Artume."
When he finishes, he puts the scroll away and stands up, "I'm Erolith Latharian, First Councilor of Knowledge to the River Kingdom Republic of Artume." he says as he winks, " and tie-breaker between the other 4 councilors."
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A rather disheveled fellow enters next, strumming a lute and eyeing the plate of fancy charcuterie. He looks around him sizing up the place, though whether he is looking for the best spot from which to hold the crowd's attention while performing, or for the nearest exit should an angry husband make an appearance, or both, is hard to say.
"And a good aftern'n to ye all, my friends! Oskar's the name, and if you haven't heard it already, well I'm sure you will soon. It's only a matter of time before I hit it big! Why, this time next year I reckon every barmaid from here t' Rahadoum'll be humming one of my tunes! It's bound to happen. 'Specially when ye has talent like mine. But, how to get the word out? That's always the challenge, doncha know - exposure, exposure, exposure. That's why - even though it's, um, of course, obviously, beneath me - I've been doing these open megaphone performances." He stops to look around before his eyes settle on the Venture-Captain. "I hope you've got an open megaphone scheduled here? It would be just the thing for a nice little venue like you've got here - it could really put you on the map. Let me know if you need my help to promote it! I know a lot about the business."
The word "business" seems to remind the talkative chap of something - perhaps the lightness of his purse - as he sighs wistfully. "Look, all the greats - Homerio of Cassomir, Garundi Greg, even the Singing Sphinx herself - they all had day jobs while they got themselves established. And they tell me there's decent money to be made in this "pathfindering" though I can't say I've seen it myself. Yet. But a fella has t' pay the bills doncha know?"
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"Open megaphone? Oh, this isn't really that kind of place, I'm afraid. If you go into Kerse proper when this is all said and done, or even up to Detmer, I'm sure you can find plenty of places with open megaphone nights, down by the docks."
Once he’s made sure he has each of your names right and taken your drink order, he retreats back behind the bar. Returning a moment later with laden tray, he sits down and continues on to the business at hand. ”Anyway, on to business. Since the Society helped pay off the loan, we’ve really been able to fix this place up right. Establishing the Society’s position in Kerse, however, has been slower going, especially with interference from the Aspis Consortium. You may be able to help change that, however, as an important potential ally has requested our assistance. Here, read this.” Kristoff hands you a letter on elegant stationary, written in a neat hand.
“The wreck is a few hours’ walk from here up the coast. I have a horse and a small wagon ready for you, just in case you’re able to recover any of the cargo. Be careful, though. My contacts in the Mercenary League say their investigation of the wreck was cut short by a swarm of carnivorous undead that surged up from the water during a storm. I’m sure capable agents like yourselves can handle a few monsters, but with the number of creatures they reported, you should head inland before any such storm arrives. Any questions?”
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In the criminal justice system, the rich and powerful are represented by two separate but equally important groups: the Pathfinders, who investigate crime, and the Aspis Consortium, which causes it. These are their stories.
DUN DUN
"Was Annette facing any financial difficulties that would necessitate such a crime?"
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"I'm afraid I don't know anything about Ms. Tuddlym herself. I think she has a sister or cousin or something in the government, but I'm not sure more than that, or anything about her financial situation, I"m afraid.
"As for the undead, my contact only described them as waterlogged figures with sharp teeth and red tongues. If you see them, try to steer clear. This is in investigation mission not an eradication job, afterall.
"Any other questions?"
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Astrid looks at the sky, trying to judge the likelihood of a storm today.
Unfortunately, the sky at the moment is the type of even, light gray that could mean anything from "it'll be raining by lunch time" to "pack your sunscreen for this afternoon", and she's not able to get any kind of read on it.
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During the travels Herondal will discuss the possible danger ahead.
"So we have a few possible clues. A cargo ship lost at sea probably due to sabotage, Undead that are presumably the former crew, Carnivorous which we can interpret as aggressive, and the fact that they arose during a storm may be relevant. Any ideas?"
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"So our job is to go investigate a sunken ship that we believe may be inhabited by watery undead and that is possibly mixed up in some kind of insurance fraud? No problem. What could possibly go wrong?"
Oskar scratches his head and also tries to see if he recalls anything about whatever these undead creatures might be.
However, he was clearly not paying attention that day in class.
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Taking your leave of the Silver Spoon, you gather your supplies and set out along a well-kept trade road heading from Kerse, at the mouth of the river, Northwest to the port city of Detmer, on the shores of Lake Encarthan. The road is well-maintained and regularly patrolled, and clearly gets frequent use. For most of the first hour it keeps within sight of the shore before drifting away from the lake through a small forest to avoid a steep rise. It’s as you pass through this copse that you all spot the four ruffians hiding in the bushes ahead, waiting to waylay you. Unfortunately, none of you spot the source of the crossbow bolt that flies from the treeline much closer to you.
As you round the corner, Herondal spots several figures hiding amongst the trees ahead, weapons drawn as if waiting for you to pass by. Before he can react, though, a crossbow bolt flies from the nearer foliage at Quinoline!
It's followed quickly by the figure of a green gnome, a hand crossbow in one hand and a wicked, curved blade in the other. Before the alchemist can even cry out, the gnome slashes at her again, though this time her attack fails to land.
[ooc]Herondal may act.[/b]
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As Astrid cries out for victory, a sword lashes out at her from the bushes, a well-concealed bandit taking the opportunity to strike!
He curses at himself for wasting such a prime opportunity, as none of his blows manage to do any harm to the warrior.
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The gnome nimbly dodges Quinoline's thrown vial, taking only negligible damage from the resulting electricity.
Unfazed by her threat, the bandit next to her takes an opportunistic slash at Astrid as she moves.
The strike connects , but doesn't stop Astrid from laying into the other bandit, her sword biting in twice and knocking the bandit off-balance.
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Erolith draws a scroll of Phantom Pain (2nd level) from his sack of scrolls and reads from it, targeting the enemy in the back (B3). "Interrupting my book will cost you."
DC 19 will save
Critical Success The target is unaffected.
Success The target takes full initial damage but no persistent damage, and the spell ends immediately.
Failure The target takes full initial and persistent damage, and the target is sickened 1. If the target recovers from being sickened, the persistent damage ends and the spell ends.
Critical Failure As failure, but the target is sickened 2.
Persistent damage is 2d4