After traveling for weeks across the Inner Sea and up the lengthy Sellen River, and with barely an hour to adjust to Daggermark’s sights and sounds, you find yourselves in the cramped office of Venture-Captain Istivil Bosk.
“Your timing is perfect, friends,” explains Bosk, an elderly man with graying hair and a pinched, weathered face. "Please excuse me for a moment, I need to retrieve a letter to show you. Please make each other's acquaintance if you haven't already." He leaves the room.
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A dwarf with short-cropped and bright red hair introduces himself. "I'm Truddig," he offers with a hand. His gear is decidedly non-dwarven. The longbow strung over his shoulder clearly shows the signs of getting the most use, the grip being very well worn; a rapier hangs at his side as well.
He looks around the cramped office for something to drink, or a snack, but fails to find anything. "Could've left something to take the edge off..." he mutters.
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Standing 6' 10", Khugron, a bald headed Nagaji has to hunch over to fit in the room. Two pole weapons are strapped to his back, with a pair of spiked gauntlets on his hands. At the comment about a drink, he smiled.
"Drinksss would be nice, maybe grab a few pintsss before we go on mission." he said extending his hand down to the dwarf. "Me Khugron, I hitsss thingss, real hard. Me load, err, loan you poncho so you not get too splattered when I kill foesss. he added, pulling out a bundle of six ponchos from his backpack.
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A tall human of Varisian desent wearing battle worn but clean well made full plate stands almost at attention while addressed by the venture captain. He is tanned and his hair has lightened with the sun to a light brown, but still has the darker shade under. He has two bastard swords one with a religious symbol of a sword surrounded by gold. A bow and shield also hang at his back.
"I am Orst Tilboar, follower of Iomedae, at your sservice. Well met Truddig. Nice to see you again, Khugron. Your bravery at the spires was a real credit."
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A little humanoid frog with poison dart frog markings sits at the table. The shocking thing about his appearance is that he has translucent skin. You can see his heart beating, lungs breathing, and veins pulsing with blood.
Greetings, friends. You can call me Muddy. Sorry 'bout the appearance of my skin. I had a, umm, little fleshwarping incident a few adventures ago.
The little humanoid frog says as a long tongue whips out of his wide mouth to lick an eye.
You wouldn't be able to pronounce my grippli name unless you can croak and chirp in the grippli language.
He wears exotic leather armor covered with metallic hexagonal plates. A composite longbow of Mwangi craftsmanship that shimmers with a faint magical light is slung on his back. At one hip is a shortsword knapped from glassy black stone and a finely crafted mahogany hafted morningstar hangs at the other hip.
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No. Not dead. It was the effect from adventuring for too long in a highly polluted and magically warped alchemical laboratory. One of my companion's head elongated twice its size and another ended up with bony knobs all over his body. They were able to get back to normal with magic, for a high price. I think my mutation looks neat, so, I stayed this way. Muddy looks at the visible veins and bones in his arm and frowns slightly.
I guess I do look a little scary.
Looking up, Muddy smiles at the hulking nagaji and blinks his large bulbous eyes twice.
Thank you for the poncho, friend.
Venture-Captain Bosk returns. If he's surprised to see a grippli chatting amicably with a nagaji in his office, he hides it well. He waves a parchment in his hand: “I received another letter just yesterday,” he says, placing the parchment on a similar-looking stack.
“It’s from the Black Marquis—-I believe his real name is Bazzak—-the leader of a band of brigands surreptiously known as the Pirate Pact. In all of these letters, he claims to need our help and offers us The Memoirs of the Silver Brotherhood, a rare text-—maybe the rarest—-in exchange.”
“The Society tried for years to track it down and now Bazzak claims to be ready to give it to us. I’m sending you north to Deadbridge near the Echo Wood to meet this Black Marquis and offer him your help with whatever it is he needs. I want this book, and you’ll get it for me.”
Bosk rubs his wrinkled hands together. "If you have any questions, ask now--I want you to leave immediately."
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Truddig sidles up to Khugron. "I might as well get one of those ponchos from you..." he whispers, stuffing it into the back of his belt if its offered.
In answer to VC Bosk, he asks one question immediately. "Do you have any concerns over whether this text is genuine? Should we check that out in any way, or just get it from him and you'll do the figuring later?"
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Constantin strides into the room, bearing a neatly furled flag in one hand. He's a young man, standing a few inches too tall to look healthy with his slight frame. His strong widow's peak, prominent eyebrows, and intensely violet gaze make his heritage plain to all who would see it, and the soft robes he wears beneath his armor do nothing to spoil the look. A cat sized dragon with butterfly wings and irridescent scales yawns from his perch on Constantin's shoulder.
He greets his new allies with a considering nod,
"A find of such a tome is worth some risk,
So long as Bazzak asks for nothing ill.
Oh -
Constantin the Azlant is my name."
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Kuhgron pulled off another poncho from the bundle and handed it to Truddig
"Here you go." he said with a smile.
Hearing the mission, he started to frown. "Missionsss alwayss have catch. Did he say what the problem wasss?"
At the entrance of Constantin and the dragon, if the room was taller, you would expect to see the rather large nagaji start jumping up and down for joy from his reaction. "Thisss going to be fun! All kindsss of different creaturesss in thisss adventure!" he said, looking at the dragon with butterfly wings.
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A young woman in finely made jacket and breeches laid flatteringly over her dazzling chain shirt rolls over the window ledge, grabbing her rapiers before they clatter against the wall. Her wayfinder sits proudly on her belt, the glyph of the open road catching the light.
She looks up at you all and whispers, "If anyone asks, I'm not here. What did I miss?"
A stocky woman with sleeves rolled up and a rolling-pin in her hand marches past the window, looking about and muttering to herself, "When I get my hands on her..."
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"Venture-Captain Bosk, Sir, did this Black Marquis hint at he wants pathfinders to do for him?" Orst seems to be a little worried about something. He hesitates for a bit then continues, "Pirates are not always on the side of law. Doing anything he wants may not be possible." "There are certain lines I just can't cross."
He continues after hearing VC Bosk's answer."And is there anything you can tell us about the Pirate Pact Group?" "And is there anything special about Deadbridge or the Echo Wood we should know?"
Bosk listens to the chorus of questions before answering. "The book I'm after, The Memoirs of the Silver Brotherhood, purportedly contains the secrets of a society of arcanists that existed several generations ago. Rumor has it the book is full of valuable insights and leads, but the Society has never managed to track it down."
Bost looks over at the dwarf. "Truddig, I think your name is? Good question. Obviously, we want the real thing--not a fake. I think the Black Marquis knows us well enough not to try to pull a fast one, but I'd still like you to examine the book carefully."
He then answers Orst. "The Pirate Pact? It's a motley gang of bandits and ruffians that has managed to carve out for itself a little domain: a strip of land along the Sellen River, north of Daggermark, near the Numerian border. Pilgrims bound for Mendev and merchants on their way to or from Starfall frequent the waterway the Pirate Pact controls, and the band makes a living out of lucrative protection racket schemes. The Black Marquis is the leader of the Pirate Pact, and he may make it sound like something more than it is. The folks of the River Kingdoms have their own laws and customs, and the line they draw around what's "moral" is likely different than most. But the bottom line is, you'll be dealing with some rough people, so keep your wits about you."
He stops for a second, but then starts speaking again. "I recognise this puts honourable men like yourself in a potentially tricky position, and I don't know what the Black Marquis wants done in exchange for the book. But he should know better than to ask us to do anything grossly illegal or downright evil--and if he does, then I fully support your refusing. I want that book, but I can't have the entire Society's reputation ruined in the process."
Bosk digs out some tightly-bound scrolls from a drawer. "Before you leave, I've received some correspondence to pass on to each of you."
Your bravery makes you an example for those oppressed by our enemies. And now I hear you are being sent to the River Kingdoms.
I have no doubt that during your travel you will embody the virtues that we promote in this land where freedom doesn’t mean equality
and justice.
I have reasons to believe that Andoren goods are being smuggled through the River Kingdoms and are finding their way into Numeria where they help support Kevoth-Kul’s tyrannical reign. This very thought appalls me. This cannot go unchecked. While in the River Kingdoms, I would like you to gather solid evidence regarding such smuggling so that those responsible might be stopped, convicted, and properly sentenced. I have all confidence in your ability to come back to me with the documents we need.
With Honest Gratitude,
Captain Colson Maldris
May this missive find you in favorable spirit. The wind tells of your mission to the distant land of the River Kingdoms. The land of many rivers is home to outlaws of all caliber, but it also shelters many who seek escape— people like Zukka Nephmet. For numerous years, this man of science served the Ruby Prince as an alchemist of the court. Seven years ago, an embarrassing affair forced our lord to send Nephmet into exile. This great mind is now wasting away in the village of Deadbridge, north of Daggermark. But his sojourn is coming to an end. In his infinite grace, the Ruby Price is showing forgiveness and welcomes Nephmet back to Orision. Find him and give him this letter. Tell him he can come home.
Lavishing my Deepest Thanks,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
We Taldans rightfully deserve our title of most sophisticated nation of the world. Where others brutishly send armies clashing, we know how to get similar results with a single dagger—planted in a general’s back. Assassination is an art, not unlike painting. To create a true masterpiece it is essential for one to have access to the right pigments and the clearest oil. You are heading for Echo Wood, in the River Kingdoms. It just so happens that monstrous arachnids with some of the nastiest venoms inhabit this forest. While you are there, collect for me the venom sack from a giant spider. The empire knows of a few artists who could use such an ingredient, and of a few enemies of the state who could become their masterpieces.
Kindly yours,
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
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Mivvy reads her letter, her face growing increasingly disgusted, like someone watching a maggot crawl from their apple. She sighs, folds the paper and carefully burns it on the fire, Oh, dear, I might just have to let that one slip through my fingers. Such a silly, flighty girl...
She looks at Orst, "Pirates, in my experience, have their own codes. They understand when people have lines they won't cross." She shrugs, "They might not like it but they understand."
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Going through his bundle of ponchos, Khugron is down to three, a large one in the center and two others. Seeing the latest arrivals, he handed them over to Constantin and Mivvy "Here, you might like them to help hide from lady or protect you from blood splatter in battle." he said to the two new arrivals.
The short trip along the Sellen to Deadbridge is uneventful. Deadbridge, a run-down old hamlet, is made up of broken huts, shacks, and sheds in between which run foul, muddy streets filled with refuse and animal corpses. But, built on a wharf extending far out over the Sellen River, are homes and buildings of the finest construction: the area built by the administrator of the Pirate Pact.
You seem to be expected, and guards lead you into a manor house. There, in a well-built study, are a portly little man--obviously the so-called Black Marquis--and a raven-haired beauty who stands silently in the corner.
“I rule the Pirate Pact and with it, the stretch of the Sellen River between here and Numeria,” the man says proudly without preamble. “The waterways are the lifeblood of the River Kingdoms, so you must understand that any menace to the river is a menace to the balance of power.”
The Black Marquis stops and quickly looks to his left and right before leaning in and continuing in hushed tones: “Unless someone deals with this threat soon, I could lose everything. Normally I would rely on my most trusted lieutenants, but . . .”
He sits up, regains some composure, and resumes: “The book I’m willing to trade for your service--The Memoirs of the Silver Brotherhood--contains information about an Azlanti treasure vault deep within the Echo Wood. That’s where I sent my most trusted lieutenants. Only, on their way they were waylaid by spiders and abominations and only one returned alive: Lady Riverbane.”
“Lady Riverbane sent out another ship upon her return, the Hanspur’s Luck, to search for my men. The Luck hasn’t returned either.”
The pudgy little man points to the woman standing next to him and says “Lady Riverbane is my most trusted second, and she will take one of my best ships and guide you back to the Azlanti vault. Rid the river of these monstrous spiders and their abominations, find the Hanspur’s Luck, uncover the whereabouts of my men, and the book is yours. Do it quickly, do it quietly, and do it before the rest of the Pact realize I’ve sent my best men on fools’ errands that may have killed them all! Lady Riverbane will be commanding the Scrag Fisher, and its crew are ready to depart when you are.”
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Khugron listened to what the Black Marquis had to say. "Lady Riverbane, what can you tell us about the creaturesss that you ran into? Do they seem to be organized? Did they ambush you, losing one or two at a time or did they swarm you?" he asked, trying to get an idea about what they were up against.
The woman almost shivers as she replies. "An ambush. One-Eyed Farl was walking ahead of us in the forest, and got caught up in the webbing--we could hardly see it in the dark. We laughed at him, before realising that his wriggling lured some . . . thing right to us! It was like a spider that walked as a man. I don't know. We all fought, but we never had a chance. I was just lucky enough to be near the rear of the group. I hoped some of the others might have made it out too, but when I reached the ship, I was the only one."
Lady Riverbane answers: "If the currents and winds are kind, the journey up river should only take a day and a half or so. We were only a few hours' walk into the woods when we were attacked. I'll go make final preparations on the Scrag Fisher. I expect you on board within the hour."
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"A rescue and recovery mission; I'm good with that."
He adjusts his brand new belt. "Spiders that walk like men...no sure what that could be. Anti toxin for spider vemon and the such might be smart to get. Plus alchemical fire to burn away webs. Continual flame cast on something might be a good thing for the darkness too." "I have most of this stuff but the continual flame."
Orst shacks the Black Marquis' hand and says "We will bring back what is still able to be found. The men could be dead and the boat sunk. And you still give us the book." "Your Lieutenant is along to keep us honest." "But what about the other stuff we find? We keep it, right?" "If this is acceptable you have a deal."
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"I guess I am still unclear of our mission. We are going to find what is left of your men and ship. If they are gone and no trace exists, do we still get the book?" Next to whom to items owned by your men that perished belong to? Are we to return them to your for their families or are they ours?" Next and finally, if we should somehow find this azlanti vault or a hord of treasure owned by rhese spider-men, is that ours to keep?" "I mean no disrepect, but these are important issues that need clarification."
"We are risking our lives; it would be nice to know exactly what for."
The Black Marquis replies, "The current deal with Bosk is the book for finding out what killed my men and dealing with it. I don't care if you pocket what's on their corpses. But the Azlanti treasure vault too? You Pathfinders have earned your reputation as hard negotiators," he says grudgingly. "Very well, I'll split the spoils in the vault with you, straight down the line. Deal?"
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Mivvy tries to hide her irritation, Why is he doing a deal on this? We can just keep everything if we don't do a deal... Keep it narrow: we find the men and deal with the threat and we get the book.
Mivvy scowls as Orst, "Look, Tilboar, you're not a VC yet. We don't rewrite Bosk's agreements." She shakes her head, "Apologies, Marquis, there is no deal, only a mission. You have given us three goals: rid the river of these monstrous spiders and their abominations, find the Hanspur’s Luck and uncover the whereabouts of your men. When we do that, the book will be handed over to the Society."
"That is a nice simple arrangement. Any other developments we will have to puzzle out in the field. I'm sorry, we're just not in a position to act like Venture Captains right now." She has positioned herself ahead of Orst and scowls back at him with that last statement.