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The adventure begins in the city of Nantambu, where the Pathfinders have been sent to find information about the last known whereabouts of the famous and recently retired Venture-Captain Nieford Sharrowsmith. The party has started off in his old shop, where his assistant, the reputable merchant and ally of the Society, Aya Allahe, is managing his affairs in his absence. A stunning woman with golden eyes, she paces the floors of Sharrowsmith’s Exports, a walled trade compound on the northern edge of Nantambu.
“I wish I had more to offer,” Allahe apologizes before even presenting what information she has. “Nieford Sharrowsmith never truly retired from being a Pathfinder, even after he started this business. I think, in his mind, he was still the young adventurer that hiked through jungles and fought off troglodyte tribes. Sharrowsmith’s attitude changed over the last few months—I think he was concerned for his legacy and how history would remember him. Would it be for his discoveries or for the export business that dominated his later years? The answer, I fear, was unpalatable."
“It was no surprise when he packed up and left on an expedition. But that was months ago, and neither the Society nor I have heard from him since. Sharrowsmith has never left for this long without leaving some word as to his status or sending rather demanding missives about business decisions while he was waist-deep in some jungle bog. When my own contacts failed to turn up any useful information, I had no recourse but to go through his private notes.” Allahe motions to the mess of documents scattered about the office.
“What caught my eye was this translated rubbing. It appears to be the most recent piece of a very large puzzle Sharrowsmith was researching and indicated that he may be somewhere in the Bandu Hills. Traders from Fort Bandu have confirmed that he paid the garrison a visit, but that’s where my trail ran cold. Something happened out there, and Praetor Sylien—Fort Bandu’s commander—refuses to correspond with me on the matter despite knowing how close Nieford and I are. All I received in response was that Nieford had ‘done enough damage for one lifetime,’ and that if I wanted to discuss the matter further I would need to go to Fort Bandu in person.”
Exasperatedly, Allahe runs a hand across her forehead and turns her distant stare out the window. “I cannot shutter the business and travel hundreds of miles on the off chance that the praetor can help; the company would fall apart. I’m hoping that you will be able to go in my stead, speak with the praetor personally to learn what has befallen Sharrowsmith and help him return.”
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"Taizen, man the ship while I head inland for an assignment. Don't be a bird brain and have her running aground or being captured by pirates." she orders her first mate before being guided to Nantambu.
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A human-ish woman with crossed arms stands in the shop listening to the story. Her skin is pale and light blue, nearly reminding you of frostbite. Her dark blue hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail but a few wild strands fall upon her face. The sun-bleached leathers fit tightly and she smells of the sea. Upon her hip is an ornate pistol and a salt-encrusted tome.
"Aye, well what is the quickest route to Fort Bandu? Already tired of the damn bugs and want it to be a relatively quick trip, that is unless something interesting comes up." she grunts as she swats away gnats.
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A male kitsune with a completely white face and chin — it almost looks like a beard — is also listening as Allahe tells them of Sharrowsmith. He is dressed for the hot weather, including a hat with a wide brim to keep the sun out of his eyes. His Wayfinder is hung from a chain around his neck. On his back is a quiver holding a very nice darkwood bow and multiple braces of arrows.
When Allahe mentions the stone rubbing, he goes over to examine it.
When Bocke asks about what Sharrowsmith was searching for, he asks “Does it have something to do with dwarves?” Gesturing to the rubbing, he adds “This mentions ‘the promise of the sky’ which reminds me of the dwarves quest for the sky.”
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Langidly reclining in a chair is Laafdhani, a deep indigo Undine with limpid turquoise eyes and blue-black hair pulled into a high ponytail of tiny braids. She's scantily dressed, but doesn't seem to have done so for any reason other than comfort. She allows the conversation to flow around her for a while before diving in: "Can you give us a description of Mr. Sharrowsmith, so we know him when we see him? And does he have any enemies, or intense competitors, who may be involved?" Her voice is reminiscent of a slow stream, lazily slipping over smooth stones.
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Walking out of the jungle and into Nantambu is a tall, powerfully built half-orc dressed in the flowing silks of a desert dweller. At his side is a gaunt desert-lion whose main sparkles with divine light.
He arrives at the shop and sizes up the assembled Pathfinders while listening to Aya's story, as well as to their questions. Finally he adds his own in a gruff, direct voice.
"Fort Bandu. Can you tell us anything of it? What is it fortified against? Who is it operated for?"
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Allahe answers Sinaryn, saying "I know some of you have traveled a long time to get here but I'm afraid you have to go a bit farther. It'll be a boat ride, and then some canoeing followed up with a bit of a hike to Fort Bandu."
"I'm afraid that I don't know what Nieford was looking for but I imagine it would have to be something very old and very valuable to motivate him to leave so abruptly."
Answering Bocke and Guido, she says, "I don't know much more about that rubbing. Sharrowsmith’s notes say the rubbing was made by miners in the Bandu Hills over sixty years ago, and the rubbing found its way to him through auctions he frequented. Whatever he read there, it lit a fire under him. He was always interested in old ruins, though and there's not much that's older than Dwarven.”
Allahe gives the party a brief description of Sharrowsmith. "He didn't take any staff with him so he would be alone. Most of his gear had the Glyph of the Open Road on it, so you might be able to recognize him that way."
Regarding any enemies Sharrowsmith has, she says, "Of course, I imagine every Pathfinder does, though, he has rarely discussed them openly with me. Sharrowsmith never seemed paranoid or overly concerned about vendettas in his business dealings and never double-crossed anyone
to my knowledge. I might wonder: how many enemies does your Society have?”
Answering Rask, Allahe says, "Fort Bandu was an outpost of the Old Empire. They established it mostly as trading post for all the miners and adventurers who come to Saragava to exploit our natural wealth and that's basically its purpose still today. If you need to purchase magical items, you may want to do that while you're still here in Nantambu. Fort Bandu is a small settlement."
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"Fantastic, even I have heard of the sweltering temperatures in the Bandu Hills, I reccomend we buy some hot-weather gear. And prepare for a fight, those hostile natives you mentioned, ghouls, kobolds, goblins, and hobgoblins are running around the area." she says rubbing her temples.
"Then there is Mount Nakyuk, famed for the gold veins running underneath it. Might be a point of interest for our lost agent."
"I can see why they object...Deeptreasure Mining company dominates the industry and isn't opposed to bullying any competition. We can likely find a representative at the fort. They could have very well harmed Sharrowsmith if he was digging around." Sinaryn shares adding on to Guy's information.
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"It seems our new companions are as learned and as capable as we've come to expect from Pathfinders Salim!"
Bask offers his meaty palm to each of his new allies in a gesture of friendship.
"Bask Rahid. I'm no stranger to hot weather, I grew up in the deserts of Thuvia. Even the humidity hasn't bothered me since I found this", he says, indicating the sunburst amulet he is wearing. "With Sarenrae's blessing I can conjure water and purify food that we find, and I have some experience hunting in the wild"
"Aya, this might seem a strange request, but do you have anything that Nieford might have worn, or that might bear his scent? Salim is trained to track scents, but he must have something to work with."
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"Sinaryn Azuim, I prefer saltspray and prevailing winds over the jungle...or desert. If I have to dock her it would be back in Riddleport." she says cheery, clapping her own hand in the half-orcs. The smell of alcohol just barely breaks through the scent of salt.
"Glad to have someone so handy around."
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Guido gives a toothy grin as he extends a paw and accepts Bask’s handshake.
Looking around at the group, he says “I don’t think I’ve worked with any of you before.” He pauses just long enough for someone to interject.
“My name is Guido Falkes, or just Guy if you prefer. I grew up in Isgrrrr.” He pronounces the last syllable with a growl. “Provided none of you advocate for infernal forces, we should get along fine.”
“My talents are mostly with jaunty music and the bow, although I do know tidbits about a wide variety of subjects.” Giving a little chuckle, he adds “Surviving in wild jungles is not one of those subjects.”
Fanning himself slightly, he admits “My only real experience with climates this warm was a short job in Thuvia.” With a nod towards Bocke, he adds “As has been noted, it is quite a bit more humid here.”
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The party discusses how to handle the heat, which is sure to get worse as they travel south. Even in the milder coastal city of Nantambu the weather gets to 80 degrees in the peak of the afternoon but at least in the city there is plenty of shade from canopies and trees and clean water is available from the many fountains and wells.
Allahe considers Bask's request. "I think Sharrowsmith packed up all his clothing and I can't let you take any other documents but I will let you look for something you can use."
Bask does find a sock, filled with holes and worn paper thin, that was tossed into a corner. It is likely that Sharrowford discarded this item rather than pack it and should have his scent on it.
From reviewing Allahe's map, it looks like the journey to the Bandu Hills should take about a week.
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"With Sarenrae's blessing I can conjure water..."
With a lilting laugh and a twinkle in her eye, Laafdahni quips: "Oh good! When it gets too hot, I may ask you to do so right on my head!" She shakes his hand with a warm smile, though her grip is far more gentle than his. Once he looks away, she massages her knuckles.
"As for me, I specialize in arcane spells, especially those that deal damage from the cold. Unfortunately, I cannot make them mild enough to simply cool us off. The thought had occurred to me before, during a mission in the desert. Oh well." She finishes with a lighthearted shrug, dismissing the idea to focus on preparations for departure.
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Bask enjoys greeting everyone and learning a bit about them. Guido's comment about infernal forces causes him to become a bit more dour.
"Never. I just finished a mission involving devils. Evil manipulative things."
He then completes his purchases and struggles to get his items into his backpack, so he also buys a new masterwork backpack which accommodates everything better, and he's ready to set off. When he gets a chance on the journey he'll be consulting Gregaro Voth's tales of adventuring in the Mwangi Expanse to pick up tips
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Hearing that others are going to take care of the problems with the heat, Guy decides to get a different wand to help the group. He calls in some favors and gets a wand of Lucky Number.
Then he does some shopping around town, picking up two weeks of food, two vials of twitch tonic, and four vials of vermin repellent.
When he shows up at the river boat, he has put on his armor — a mithral chain shirt.
“So, everyone ready? I look forward to this!” he says in a cheerful voice. He looks the very epitome of bright eyed and bushy tailed!
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The party makes their preparations for the journey to Fort Bandu, some of them even spending a bit of their social capital to get magical items from the Magaambayan School of magic; whose halycon wizards are occasional allies to the Pathfinder Society. Promises are made and wands are exchanged.
The journey to Fort Bandu takes about a week and involves a boat ride down the Vanji River, followed by canoeing up the Little Vanji and Dzimmi Rivers and finally a trek across the lower Bandu Hills. Finally the party reaches Fort Bandu, a small frontier settlement surrounded by high stone walls. Within the walls, dozens of mining companies maintain outposts out of tents while laborers mill about waiting for the next job to begin and merchants wait for customers. There are about 150 soliders living in the fort, most of them relaxing in tents and a few unlucky ones baking in the hot sun as they stand on top of the walls or inspect newcomers passing through the gates.
The atmosphere is tense as word quickly spreads through the Fort that Pathfinders are here. As the group passes by stalls merchants begin to close up their stalls and the mine workers give the group cold stares. The soldiers glare at the adventurers with open hostility and some of them grip their weapons tightly but don't attack, restrained by the authority of their sergeants.
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"Oh dear. This doesn't look good." On a hunch, she approaches one of the soldiers, stopping about five feet away from him with her hands spread in a gesture of harmlessness. With her rich, inviting voice she asks: "It seems that a reputation has preceded us. Is this a newer development?" There is so much more she wants to ask, but doubts a common soldier will be inclined to be chatty with those who are distrusted.
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Well, this should be interesting. Wonder what happened to get all these people so distrustful of Pathfinders?
While Laafdahni approaches one of the soldiers, Guy looks for a merchant selling fruit or some other easily consumed food item. He goes up to the stall and tries to chat up the merchant as he purchases some.
“Good day, sir! I see you are about to close up shop, but I wonder if there is any way I might purchase some of your wares before you do?” He very carefully avoids showing too much tooth in his smile.
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When Laafdahni approaches the soldiers one of them lunge towards her but is held back by his fellow soldiers. "It's not worth it Leon. You know they can kill you." The soldier then turns towards the undine and shouts, "You better keep your stay short here! We don't need any more of your meddling."
When Guy approaches the merchant, he begins packing up his stall. "I'm sorry, but I'm closed." He leans in and whispers, "Listen, even if I wanted to, I can't be seen selling to your kind. You Pathfinders have caused enough trouble and I don't need you drawing any attention to me." The merchant frantically sweeps the merchandise off the table into barrels, shouting [b]"Get out of here Pathfinder scum! No one is going to sell anything to you!"[b]
As the party spends time talking they see that a crowd is starting to assemble, including miners clutching picks and shovels and a growing number of soldiers. All of them are glaring at the Pathfinders with hostility and fear in their eyes.
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Guy steps forward, hands out and well away from his weapons. Trying to look as non-threatening as he can he says “We are just here to track down a former Pathfinder agent that we believe has gone rogue. We heard that he had come through here? He sometimes uses the name Nieford Sharrowsmith.”
He stresses the word former, and the part about gone rogue.
That should have enough truth to it to be believable! Definitely looks like whatever Sharrowsmith did, it wasn’t popular with the locals.
“Now if any of you has information about this person — what he has been doing, where he is — we would very much like to talk. Please, there is no need for any violence!”
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Bocke can tell that the population in Fort Bandu is very hostile and that the party will not get any answers from talking to common soldiers and merchants. The atmosphere is so charged that if you did convince someone to help you you may be putting that person at risk of being shunned or retaliated against.
Mostly the crowd glares at the party as they try to address the crowd but a few here and somebody tosses a rotten melon that lands about five feet short and splatters on the dirt. Sinaryn reaches down to place her hand near her pistol, she sees that all two dozen of the soldiers on the wall are watching her and have their hands near their quivers, ready to draw arrows.
Guy can tell that is words are falling on deaf ears and some people in the crowd are shouting things like "go home!" and "we don't want you here!" when he opens his mouth to speak. Clearly something must have happened to soil the Pathfinder reputation so badly among the common people at Fort Bandu.
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Bocke agrees. "We can't have marks on our backs while we search. Let's at least find out what happened, then at least we'll know what we need to fix."
Bocke will grab the rotting melon, and crush a piece on top of his own head.
"You got us. We deserved that. Can we please speak to your commander so we can at least know what we did?"
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One of the soldiers grabs Bocke by the elbow and says, "Are you here to speak with Praetor Sylien? I'll bring you to his office." A squad of soldiers surround the Pathfinders and escort them through Fort Bandu to the modest wooden bailey in the center of the fort and to a small office.
The office has little in the way of decoration beyond several wooden tables and and a few well stocked bookshelves. There are no chairs. A war table featuring a map of the Bandu Hills region sits prominently in the center of the room, and three tall windows nearby let in a great deal of natural light.
There are two men in this room. One is a half elf with gray in his once coal black hair and deep creases on his sun-beaten face. He is has the pride and bearing of a man half his age whereas his face has an expression of belying a great reserve of confidence and and patience.
The other man seems to have boundless energy and strides around the room with a confident poise as he speaks in the unmistakable accent of Chelish nobility. He has a slight limp in his right leg and walks with a polished black cane, which he bangs on the floorboards whenever he wants to emphasize a point. Despite his manner and the fashionable Chelish attire he is wearing, his ancestry is clearly Garundi.
Their conversation stops abruptly, and the praetor’s guest disdainful
glares at the latest arrivals. “Pathfinders. I shouldn’t be surprised. Only your organization would have the gall to so brazenly show its face when you’ve already caused so much damage.”
“Pathfinders,” the praetor’s voice lacks the contempt of his guest, as if trying to subtly apologize for his tone. “This is Amersanus Valacosti of the Aspis Consortium. We’ve been discussing the troubles Fort Bandu has faced of late—troubles caused by your organization. I was unwilling to disclose the details to Mistress Allahe by courier, but now that you have arrived, I feel it pertinent to explain the nature of Fort Bandu’s… misgivings. Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith came through here some months ago, gathering supplies and nformation before setting off on an expedition into the hills. There, he roused the local kobold tribes and angered them enough that they now actively raid our settlements and mining operations.
“Amersanus Valacosti and I were discussing how the Aspis Consortium may be able to help repair the damage your Society has inflicted on the people of Fort Bandu. Now that you’ve arrived, perhaps we can have a more balanced mediation. Your Pathfinder Society has a damaged reputation in the Bandu Hills, so I ask you state your business and why you think I should allow you to even so much as stay within the fort’s walls. What knowledge do you have of this land and its people that could prevent this situation from deteriorating further? I will only entertain questions regarding Sharrowsmith once I’m assured that providing you information will not further endanger my charges.”
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"I can tell you one thing. If you think the Pathfinder Society is trouble you haven't seen anything yet with our competitors." she says with a rude glare to Amersanus Valacosti.
"Careful of the viper in your bosom but now that is not of concern as the Pathfinder Society can fix this errors of its own Venture-Captain. You can send Valacosti on his way, he would only be a hindrance at this point." she says not caring for diplomacy with the Apsis.
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Seeing that he will have to convince this person of his knowledge of the wild, Bask activates his Aspect of the jackal to enhance his innate understanding and responds.
"Pathfinders travel the world, not just those places with resources to exploit." He gives Amersanus the evil eye at that point. "Salim and I have travelled across country from Eleder around the Bandu hills into Mzali territory recently, living off the land as we went. We also ventured into the Kaava lands to seal away an ancient evil. At every turn we encountered Aspis agents trying to exploit the region in a way that benefits only them"
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"Please," Laafdahni begins with a voice as warm as honey. "We deeply apologize for the harm done to your people and their livelihoods. Whatever Venture-Captain Sharrowsmith has done, we would do what can to set things right. In following his trail, we can look into what he did to anger the kobold tribes, and hopefully resolve it with them. We will do everything we can to fix this mess." Her turquoise eyes seem to glow with sincerity as her brows knit together in concern for the people of the Fort.
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The praetor listens patiently to Laafdahni try to persuade him, then calmly turns away to ask Bask some follow up questions about some of the more common venoumous snakes that are in the Bandu Hills. He nods as Bask describes how to tell the difference between the jade deathadder and the more common and significantly less deadly emerald birdsniper.
When Bask and Sinaryn mention the Aspis Consortium's alleged misdeeds, Amersanus's snorts, saying "Listen, they can't defend their Society's actions so they resort to distracting you with baseless accusations of invented crimes."
Praetor Sylien nods and says, "The Aspis Consortium is not the one on trial. Let's stick to discussing the facts."
The praetor appears to be impressed by Bask's wilderness knowledge and says, "Yes, you do seem to be a capable ranger and have some experience surviving in the jungle. I would not risk letting you leave here if I did not think your party could survive on your own. Due the Pathfinder's actions, I would not have the resources to mount a rescue expedition."
Valacosti grows increasingly incensed as the Pathfinders explain their case. “Sharrowsmith professed an intimate understanding of the region and its delicate balance of power as well, and behold the results: dozens dead, dozens more missing, kobolds attacking our mining operations, and people living in fear of the next raid. Praetor, with all due respect, you cannot allow these Pathfinders to exacerbate an already delicate situation.”
The praetor remains patient. “Amersanus makes a good point. Sharrowsmith was a well-read and knowledgeable man, yet he disappeared in these jungles and caused damage we’re only beginning to feel the impact of thanks to the local kobold tribes. How is your expedition different? Do you have the necessary strength to survive in this environment where so many others cannot? Show me that those weapons and spellbooks you carry are not just for show.”
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Stepping forward for a moment, Guy looks to the praetor and says “If I may, sir, my abilities are more the support type. I allow others to do best at what they are skilled at. In order to more accurately demonstrate what we as a group can do, would you allow me to provide our selected champion with a single beneficial spell?”
He makes a point of ignoring Valacosti.
If the request is rejected, he simply nods in acceptance and steps to the side.
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Sinaryn nods to Bocke before stepping up.
"Praetor, you are incorrect if you think we are on trial for anything as we clearly just arrived but the viper is already coiled tightly around you. Do not paint every Pathfinder agent with the same brush, it appears foolish." she scoffs at the both of them now.
"Now, you want to know my capabilities. Let me explain them in detail instead of showing you directly...or else Amersanus would be encased up to his neck in ice. My arsenal of freezing spells delivered by a bullet is more than capable of clearing out the pests but a blade can give it a personal touch." she says twirling her pistol and blade as they begin to build a layer of rime.
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Praetor Syelin seems impressed by Sinaryn's display of magic mixed with martial prowess but when she alludes to what her magic could do to Amersanus, he bangs his cane against the floor boards and shouts "Do not dare threaten me, peasant!"
With weary sigh, the praetor says in a gentle, fatherly voice "Amersanus, you are my guest and under the protection of the Saragavan nation. You need to trust that I can maintain order in my own fort. Sinaryn, there will be consequences if you continue threatening the people here in these walls. Please speak with restraint."
“Is this supposed to make an impression?” Valacosti is quick to dismiss the display of power. “If you think this situation can be solved at the point of a sword or by brandishing some hedge wizardry, you’re as ignorant as your predecessor. These Pathfinders will rush headlong into the jungle and slaughter the kobold tribe, creating a power vacuum among the other tribes and only worsen this disaster.”
Again, the praetor tries to remain impartial, though it is clear his patience is waning. “Once more I find myself seeing reason in Valacosti’ words. Strength of arms is all well and good, but this is a situation that also requires a certain amount of finesse. How do I know I trust you to handle this situation with a level head and a delicate touch when necessary?”