In response to a message from Valais Durant of the Radiant Oath, you have booked passage aboard the merchant vessel, The Merry Mayfly, which is now en route to a secretive rendez-vous, set to occur well-off the coast of Varisia amidst the waters of the Steaming Sea.
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The elven woman's flute blows upon the sea air. The wind is pretty strong, however, so you can't really hear it that well. It's for the best, probably.
"Dang it." Miladistra stares at the ocean. "I wonder if mother tried to swim the seas before. Differen environment than a lake, I tell ya."
Miladistra was helping Ma and Pa at the farm when she got this missive. No details besides a time, location, and the glyph of the open road. The open sea was nice, though- she wasn't in the mood for another noisy city trip.
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A gnome with normally pale skin is looking distinctly green as he leans his head against the railing, his face between two bars. He appears to be fighting down sea sickness by sheer force of will.
His swept back hair stands up and out, forming a wild mane and his ears, nose and teeth are sharp. His eyes have a cunning glint in them and he seems to be feral in general.
He's cursing roundly and creatively, his ire focused on the boat that won't stop moving, the ocean that's moving it and the gods who would create an ocean that would move a boat like that.
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A Taldan human about average height and weight with Raven Hair stands before you. He is wearing chain mail with only a couple of small weapons on him. Around his neck is a necklace displaying the symbol of Pharasma.
He smiles as he greets the others, "Greetings. I am called Jak. I'll strive to keep you alive unless my goddess deems to call you forth."
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"Oh, howdy Jak. My name's Miladistra." she offers a handshake. "You can just keep me alive even if your goddess says no." She chuckles. All of his power, and he's busy waiting for the gods to permit him. She sighs and turns to Zabu.
"Uh, I do know a good tonic that can help. Some dandelion, a touch of lemon, a little bit of raspberry leaf and some bubble tonic will do." She thinks. "Um, do we have those on the ship?"
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A half-orc clad in black studded leather and a navy blue cloak pulled over his head walks through the throng of passengers. He listens intently to every conversation and walks with a methodical purpose. When he spots the group of Pathfinders gathering he heads over.
He slides between Jak and Miladistra before making his introduction.
"I am Montagné. The other Pathfinders I take it? Well met." he says uncharacteristically quiet for such a large fellow. He sweeps by after to deliver a polite bow, throwing back his cloak to reveal two ornate knuckle daggers.
With the formal introductions completed he crouches down next to the cursing gnome.
"Focus on something that pushes the movement away. If the mind is busy it won't have time to get sick."
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Jak takes Miladistra's hand and shakes it in kindly return. "Don't worry. I somewhat specialize in healing. Even prayed for extra healing to dish out when needed."
Hearing a slight rustle of noise, he turns to look at half-orc as he slips in stealthy. "Having someone who lurks in the shadows often proves helpful in many different types of situations."
The cry of "Ahoy!" is the first sound to signify that another vessel has come alongside. It is the Lightbringer and it is not long before members of its crew are escorting you below its deck to meet with Valais Durant.
The endless roll of the waves of the Steaming Sea, sends the lanterns that hang from hooks dangling from the deck above in constant sway. Their light illuminating the ship's interior and causing the golden markings on Valais' skin to periodically glisten and gleam. The result is the appearance of movement, like the shimmer of the scales of a passing fish as it darts through the water.
“I need your help for a task that requires both great risk and discretion,” begins Valais as the aasimar woman gestures to the shadows behind her. From the darkness emerges a green-eyed, Varisian man. He flashes a sly grin, which is framed by a thin mustache.
“This is Guaril Karela, a prominent figure among the Sczarni,” she continues. “The Sczarni maintain a smuggling ring, providing freedom to those chafing under the oppression of Belimarius, the Runelord of Envy and ruler of Edasseril. Demand for such services is high,” she pauses and casts a somewhat disdainful glare toward Guaril, “allowing the Sczarni to extract hefty sums from desperate patrons."
Pictures of Valais and Guaril are now available on Slides.
“I find the practice rather distasteful,” Valais sighs. “However, collaboration with his operations grants the Radiant Oath some measure of oversight in ensuring proper treatment of the refugees. Further, I have Guaril’s personal assurance that the Sczarni will not demand more in payment than their clients can afford.”
“Transportation’s expensive,” Guaril chimes in. “Not to mention paying off border guards and harbormasters. It’s dangerous work. Certainly, you wouldn’t expect my people to take such risk and not be properly compensated, would you? Or have you forgotten that Belimarius has placed a price on my head?”
“Not the first to do so, I’m sure.” Valais notes dryly, before continuing, “Belimarius and her minions began to suspect Guaril’s intentions the last time he was in Edasseril. Now, they seek not only his head, but those of his known associates, including those among the Pathfinder Society. It is not presently safe for them or Guaril to venture within Edasseril’s borders.”
“I had a number of clients ready to go, before leaving Xin-Edasseril,” explains Guaril. “Most of the arrangements are already made. All you need to do is make contact with the clients. Give them the time and place for departure, then escort them out of the city—with their payment.” The Sczarni stresses.
“You’ll get a hefty cut of the payment you secure as compensation for your hard work.” assures Guaril.
The Varisian man reaches into his pocket and produces a sheet of crumpled, scrawled paper.
“I prepared a client list,” Guaril says, handing over the paper. “Memorize it. Then, tear it up, burn it, chew it, swallow it—whatever you do, get rid of it! If Belimarius gets a hold of it, it’s a death sentence for anyone named on it.”
As Guaril is speaking, Valais reaches into a drawer of the desk where she is sitting and produces a stack of documents bearing wax seals and ornate writing.
“You’ll be entering Xin-Edasseril disguised as merchants,” explains Valais. “These permits and papers will allow you passage in and out of the city for five days before they expire.”
She hands a sealed merchant's permit to each of you along with a set of traveling papers as she continues, “At dawn on the fourth day after your arrival in Xin-Edasseril, the ship, Rolanna’s Prayer, will arrive in a bay just outside the city: Shard Cove. The boat can accommodate five clients, providing an excellent opportunity to escape undetected. One of the clients, Flitch, knows a secret tunnel to Shard Cove."
“Once the clients are aboard ship, return to the city. Any remaining clients that you weren’t able to smuggle out by sea will have to be smuggled out of the city with you, which means you’ll have to get them past the guards at the docks." she stresses. "Your ship, The Merry Mayfly, must depart the docks once your papers have expired.”
“The clients are expecting to deal with me,” cautions Guaril. “But as that’s not possible, and as it’s now a few days past the window when I was to make contact, the clients might need some reassurance to go through with the job.”
Giving the Pathfinders a stern look, Guaril then warns, “While you’re in Belimarius’s back yard, be careful. You are foreigners in Xin-Edasseril, and Belimarius has eyes everywhere. Don’t do anything that would draw unnecessary attention to yourselves. The last thing you want to do is tangle with the authorities. The runelord’s forces are well trained and quite capable. Keep your wits about you at all times and your blades sheathed.”
“We cannot afford one of you being arrested or interrogated. Pay any bribe required to remain free. I don’t want to further expose any part of the operation,” says Valais. “Our goal here is to bring hope and freedom to as many souls as we are able. It is risky, but hope and freedom are worth the price."
Valais directly into the eyes of each of you as if laying her soul bare. "I realize I am asking much of you. Should you wish to decline the mission, you may remain aboard The Lightbringer with me and rejoin the others when the Mayfly docks again in Magnimar. Otherwise," the woman breathes deeply, then asks, "do you have any questions?"
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Miladistra shrugs as Zabu rejects the offer.
All of this Runelord stuff. Hmpf! Just another greedy powermonger.
"Of course I'll help get them out. Control Freaks need to learn to let go. And if we need to do it five at a time, so be it." She stares right back at Valais. "Now then, it's time to become a rhubarb merchant."
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Zabu doesn't seem to feel much better getting from one boat to another but he does seem better at hiding his discomfort in front of the two Pathfinder authorities.
"A man's entitled to a profit, but it sounds like you got sloppy or greedy," he says to Guaril. "Otherwise you wouldn't be splitting your earnings with folks like us. But I suppose there are worse jobs than cleaning up someone else's mess."
"Now, you're just confusing me. I feel like you want us to go on this mission but then you say my alternative is spending more time with you. I just don't know what to do," he continues, flashing a grin at Valais.
"I guess it's up to us but what should we do, just have everyone gather at one end of the secret tunnel on the departure day and walk 'em down?"
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"Simple enough and important enough to demand our attention. We will get them all out safely, that I can assure you. However, after this mission the Radiant Oath will see we can accomplish such matters without the need of predators like the Sczarni." the half-orc says rather flatly as he looks over his gear sparing only a spiteful glance at Gauril.
"As far as the plan it might not be that simple and could very well draw unwanted attention. Locating Flitch as to scout the tunnel will be of high importance then we can arrange a meeting time. The amount of people will also be an issue...we are well over the five Rolanna's Prayer can carry." he suggests in reply to the gnome.
"A man's entitled to a profit, but it sounds like you got sloppy or greedy," he says to Guaril. "Otherwise you wouldn't be splitting your earnings with folks like us. But I suppose there are worse jobs than cleaning up someone else's mess."
The Varisian man initially returns the comment with a glare, but his smirk quickly returns. "'Business' always comes with a few risks." Guaril replies, "But, as evidenced by your presence here, I always plan for...contingencies."
Valais shakes her head, but says nothing more on the matter.
"However, after this mission the Radiant Oath will see we can accomplish such matters without the need of predators like the Sczarni." the half-orc says rather flatly as he looks over his gear sparing only a spiteful glance at Gauril.
Guaril's ire drives him to respond, but Valais quickly raises a hand and speaks. "The Sczarni have already risked much in the furtherance of this operation. Their efforts have been invaluable to our cause. We are committed to our current arrangement. Once the present mission has been completed, we will be able to better evaluate the merits of our collaboration."
"I guess it's up to us but what should we do, just have everyone gather at one end of the secret tunnel on the departure day and walk 'em down?"
"As far as the plan it might not be that simple and could very well draw unwanted attention. Locating Flitch as to scout the tunnel will be of high importance then we can arrange a meeting time. The amount of people will also be an issue...we are well over the five Rolanna's Prayer can carry." he suggests in reply to the gnome.
“It is up to you, how you want to proceed,” Guaril interjects. “But Flitch knows the secret tunnel to Shard Cove.”
"Unfortunately, we have not been able to obtain any additional intelligence on the matter since Guaril left Xin-Edasseril over a week ago." notes Valais. "We leave the planning up to you agents in the field. You are resourceful and capable, Pathfinders. I trust your ability to adapt and cope to any changes in the situation."
Lirabelle listens carefully to the briefing, her fingers continuing to work her knitting needles.
"I will proudly help get these people to safety."
Valais smiles. "Your enthusiasm is appreciated, Lirabelle. Though, I would be remiss if I were not to caution one against the dangers of pride." Eying the halfling's work, she adds, "Is that a scarf that you are knitting? How beautiful. What fine detail and vibrant colors!"
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"Indeed ma'am. My apologies Mister Guaril."
The ends justify the means if we get these people to safety and closer to an arrangement where their passage is free.
He backs away from the group to recollect himself. Even this rogue has heard of the Runelords so he takes a moment to recall every scrap possible
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"Hmm. Well, at least we know where ya stand." Miladistra shrugs. She doesn't like this Guaril guy, but as long as the money is flowing he'll do his job. The honesty is... refreshing.
"I'm not much for the city- can't help ya on any rumors I've heard about this town- but sounds like we should seek out Filtch first."
"Lirabelle, it's a beautiful scarf. What's yer inspiration?"
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"Well, I've never really been good at sitting still. A lot of Mihrini halflings fiddle with sticks, locks, knots...I like knitting!" She pulls out a set a thieves' tools and shares a mischievous grin. "Mind you, I'm pretty good with the locks, too!"
"I think that using all the colors of the rainbow honors the Prismatic Ray: Desna, Shelyn, and Sarenrae."
You recall that Edasseril is the western kingdom of the nation of New Thassilon, which was founded by the two surviving runelords of ancient Thassilon. Edasseril is the domain of Belimarius, the Runelord of Envy. Xin-Edasseril, the nation’s capital, is located on Peridot Isle.
However, you are unable to recall any specific information about Belimarius herself.
Your vessel, The Merry Mayfly, departs from the Lightbringer and makes its way to the island chain that forms the western borders of Edasseril. Approaching one of the larger islands, you are soon able to see the city of Xin-Edasseril.
The capital of Edasseril is a city of gleaming architecture and beautiful vistas, although its skyline bears fresh scars that tell of some catastrophic event that must have befallen it. While most of its structures stand as grand displays of the wealth and power of ancient Thassilon, there are indicators of ongoing construction projects dotting various spots throughout the city. You arrive at the city's docks without incident.
Upon disembarking, your immediately met by a pair of well-armed guards. One is a half-elf male; the other is a human female. Both sheathed in armor adorned in green accents identifying them as members of the Emerald Guard. The way they carry themselves and their strict, discipline demeanor evident years of martial training.
A map of the docks for reference and pictures of the guards are now available on the Slides.
As you approach their checkpoint near the opposite end of the dock, the male guard narrows his eyes and gives the one in the lead among you a stern look.
"Your papers, please." the guard demands curtly. Despite the inclusion of the word, 'please', his tone contains no hint of courtesy or pleasantness. He holds out his gauntleted hand with steely expectation.
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"Heading to the capital of New Thassilon on Peridot Isle is sure to be a precarious situation. Treading carefully is paramount...the likelyhood of survival if caught isn't going to be very high." the rogue thinks out loud as he recalls information.
As Miladistra goes to hand over the papers he shadows her from a short distance.
"Always with the rhubarb no matter what we are selling...moving timber but what about some rhubarb...a boat of silk but what about the rhubarb. It is far too tart." he grumbles from behind.
"Howdy. Here you go." Miladistra hands her papers over. "Rhubarb is hard to come by around here, yea?"
"Rhubarb?" mutters the half-elf guard as he shakes his head. "Tastes awful, why would anyone want to buy that?"
"It's said to have medicinal properties too, Ellvard." states the other guard. "I've heard that rhubarb roots of several species are used as a laxative." The woman let's out a laugh as her voice trails off to a whisper as her fellow guard scrutinizes Miladistra's papers.
Apparently satisfied with the papers, the guard identified as Ellvard returns them to the elven "merchant".
"Curfew is in effect for all outsiders, such as yourselves, from first bell until sundown. You are to remain indoors at all other times." he notes.
"Further, I see that your papers expire in five days. You will not be permitted within the city after that time." he says, as he ushers the elf past the check point.
As Miladistra goes to hand over the papers he shadows her from a short distance.
The female guard reaches takes ahold of the half-orc's papers and begins to look over the paper. She glances curiously at the half-orc and then resumes her analysis of the papers.
"Everything in order, Captain Kallade?" Ellvard inquires.
"Yes, Ellvard." the woman replies as she quickly hands the papers back to the disguised Pathfinder. She looks the half-orc in the eye and repeats the prior warnings, "Remain indoor after curfew. Be out of the city within five days." Then, she adds, "And keep your weapons stowed--at all times."
The two guards at the checkpoint examine the paper of the rest of party and provide similar warnings. You are all able to enter into the city without further incident.
Once past the check point at the docks, you are relatively free to travel around within the city. It is evident that Xin-Edasseril is bustling with activity. Yet, the city clearly operates under the weight of oppression. Additional check points, each manned by multiple members of the Emerald Guard, have been set up at natural "choke points" for traffic flowing within the city. Likewise, Emerald Guard patrols, visibly well-armed, can be seen marching through the city with considerable frequency. The residents within the city give the patrols a wide berth. Even when the Emerald Guard is not within their immediate vicinity, the citizens of the city go to length to avoid making direct eye contact with you and other obvious outsiders. They seem almost as weary of their fellow citizens, undoubtedly the result of the Runelord's frequent use of hidden spies and secret police.
A map of the city is now available on the Slides.
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"Yeah? They looked pretty united to me," Zabu says when Lirabelle provides her information. His tone highly suggests that if he didn't see it, it didn't happen.
"I can already tell this place is going to be dull. Especially since we're not even allowed to tussel with these fancy pants guards." He flexes his fingers when he sees a group from a distance as though feeling their necks in his hands.
"Let's get to Envy Row so we can get out of here as quickly as possible."
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"I can get around easy enough but I lack the silver tongue. We should focus on finding Filtch before anything so starting in Envy Row works perfectly." the half-orc agrees with some hesitation.
"Splitting up might make things a bit more risky but it certainly will help us put the pieces together more quickly...and the quicker we are ready to leave the safer we are."
Making your way through the bustling city is time consuming as you are forced to pause at times as the crowds halt before passing patrols. Your travel is held up further as you find yourselves waiting in lines at additional check points within the city or, in some cases, spending time looking for back alleys and ways to circumvent them.
After about two hours, you find yourself in a rundown, particularly impoverished, area of the city identified as Envy Row East. Following the directions provided in Guaril's note, you arrive at a rundown flat rather typical of the other residences of Envy Row East.
The front door facing the street stands shut. The windows of the flat have been boarded over, and fragments of a flowerpot lie beneath one of the windowsills.
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Crowds are noisy. Not like a bee hive. Sure those are noisy but all the bees are moving in lock step with set goals. These crowds are too busy and disorganized. And the guards just enjoy their power trips.
She's glad to be in Envy Row. There are much more plants, and some more rats. At least they move out of your way.
"Is that Filtch's place? Do you think he's in? Hope so."
Lirabelle softly knocks on the front door.
There is no answer.
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It takes about 2 blocks of bustling crowds before Zabu is literally growling and snarling. He shoves and pushes his way through the packed streets, almost coming to blows on more than one occasion.
He eyes the patrols and checkpoints with just as much animosity, but controls himself and doesn't get aggressive with them, slipping away more often than encountering them.
He watches the street as Lirabelle begins her scoundrelry.
"Well, let's just see what's in here."
Lirabelle tries to open the door. If it's locked, Lirabelle pulls out a set of lockpicks and fiddles with the lock.
The skillful halfling makes short work of the lock on the door. Quietly pushing it open, she is greeted by a sparsely furnished, wood-wall apartment. A thin layer of dust covers the floors. The northern wall bears crude etchings, graffiti, and other odd markings.
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Montagne smirks as Lirabelle deftly works her way inside. He keeps his hands near his blades but knows better to brandish them just yet.
He slips into the house to hopefully find their target but only spots graffiti and dust. He lets out a quiet growl.
"He isn't here. That would be too easy wouldn't it?"