You have been tasked with taking a boat from Absalom up the Iseld river in Cheliax, then transferring to a caravan after reaching the Conerica Straits before finally arriving in Elidir. There, in the capital of Isger, you are to meet your contact Karla Wesver, a human woman and a member of the Horizon Hunters. She is staying at the White Stag Inn, a large and bustling inn on the Conerica River.
Your journey should provide plenty of time to get to know your fellow agents and see some of the "civilized" portions of Isger.
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While traveling along the Iseld River, a stodgy elf climbs to the upper deck of the boat to meet whom he can only assume are the other Pathfinders. Clad in studded leather armor, he has a large elven curve blade strapped on his back and several throwing hammers tucked in his belt. He approaches with an air of superiority that might be undeserved, and is definitely off-putting.
"So you're the other Pathfinders? They told me I'd find you up here." He studies the group carefully, trying to hide his disappointment, muttering "Well, we must make the best of it, shan't we?" Setting his pack down, the group can see it overflowing with various binders and tomes. He says somewhat stiffly, "I'm Doctor Thurston Lazarus the Third. You may simply call me Doctor or Lazarus." He nods curtly and continues, "I'm a forensics professor at the University of Osirion. I'm on a sabbatical to do field research. With a wide-variety of knowledge and attention to detail, I shall do my best to benefit our cause." He then picks up a notebook and starts reading, looking up occasionally as others make introductions.
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Hopping down from a crate set next to the railing of the boat, a halfling in a well cut traveling coat of dark blue crosses to where the Doctor has come on deck. He has electric blue eyes and tanned skin, whether from travel or where he is from, one cannot be sure.
"Ah, a scholar! My mentor is a great scholar, specifically of dragons and their lore. You wouldn't happen to have any such tomes would you? I personally curate the collection of my mentor and also track down rare and forgotten tomes to add to it. That's why I joined the Society in the first place. Oh, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Peregrine Sandpipe of the Osirion Sandpipes. Perhaps you've been to my parents tavern, The Bronze Drake? It's fairly well known in the Canal District. Well anyway, it is a pleasure to meet you Doctor!", Peregrine says finishing with a small bow to the scholar.
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A tall dark Garoundi dressed in the flowing katapeshi garb us leaning at the top mast, wearing two scimitars on his sides. His sad gaze is turned back toward Absolom and he cannot seem to let go of whatever sad thoughts are with him.
When the doctor arrives and starts on his pompous dialogue he scoffs annoyed. With a condescending smile he replies: "Greetings scholars. I am Isfan ibn Dafuur. It will be my job to make sure you get safely back to your snuggly fireplace, so you can tell your friends what fantastic adventures you had out in the real world."
"Try not to stand in the way of the grownups too much in the meantime."
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A paint-covered goblin in a smock scrambles up the ladder from below deck. He finds a spot near the ships railing and sets up an easel and a canvas, and begins sketching the river, although with the noticeable difference of a lot more fire and what seems to be a large squid.
As Lazarus introduces himself, he turns around and smiles. ”I love doctors!” he says. ”They let me sleep on their couches and give me candy!”
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Following the goblin, a squirrel runs across the deck, and hops squarely on top of the goblin’s head. He pulls out a tiny clipboard and a tiny quill, writes a few things down, and turns his attention to the rest of the group. ”I apologize for him. He’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. Or the sharpest spoon, for that manner.” He looks back at the canvas for a second. ”Can’t even draw a simple landscape.” he mutters. "Anyway, my name is Jenkins. Jenkins Evergreen Acornfield. And this oddball is—“
The goblin cuts him off with a screech. ”Madzork!” he shouts. ”Madzork van Goghblin!”
”…yes.” Jenkins continues. ”I am, at the moment, his familiar.”
He seems to take particular interest in Peregrines occupation. ”Strange and forgotten tomes, you say? Now, do you just collect about dragons, or do you collect about other subjects, such as entities from outside our world?”
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Jenkins hops of Madzork's head and starts pacing back and forth on a crate. "Well, I was hired by my patron's corporate office and assigned to be Madzork's familiar because we were both hired at the same time, but so far, I don't think we're exactly a good fit. I put in a request for a transfer a few weeks ago, but I haven't gotten a response yet, and every time I try to call, I'm just told to call back later. That's why I was curious about your mentor's library, to figure out some way to get into contact with the higher-ups." He sighs. "I don't suppose you have any ideas as to how I might be able to do that?"
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When Peregrine states that his mentor is a learned man, Lazarus peers over his notebook and muses aloud, "My dear boy, tis a shame your mentor couldn't have joined us on the trip..." It's not clear if he intended to add "instead of you", but he doesn't. Instead, he remembers his manners belatedly, and he bows his head to the halfling, "While I'm quite fluent in draconic, I'm afraid my books on the creatures are back at the University, as I didn't expect to meet any on this particular journey. Feel free to stop by my office anytime to educate yourself."
He adds, "The Bronze Drake? Yes, yes, I've heard of it..." He trails off and continues, "Oh dear, well you see, the Canal District is just a little too ...." He fumbles for the right words. "That is to say, I tend not to venture to that part of town." He quickly adds, "But I'm sure The Bronze Drake is a lovely place." He seems pleased with himself that he was able to salvage what could have been an awkward exchange.
Lazarus has a hint of a smile as he watches the interaction between Jenkins and Madzork. He makes a mental note that Jenkins is the brains of that operation. Turning to the ranger, he says, "No offense taken, my dear Isfan. I appreciate any protection you'll provide me. And my fireplace." He pats his elven curve blade, "But I'm quite capable. Fight smarter, not harder." He's about to go back to his reading, and looks back to Isfan, "Oh, as for grownups, I would just point out that I expect I'm approximately thrice your age." He returns to his notes.
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While Jenkins is busy chatting, a large lizard quietly approaches from the shadow. As he gets closer, and realizes the squirrel is the one speaking, he slowly comes out of his crouch.
Now by the crate you see a blue and green Iruxi mercenary. Standing over seven feet tall, he has a pair of razor sharp claws and a longbow strapped to his back. He looks to be licking his lips, but that could just be standard for lizard folk.
“Hello. Fellow pathfinders I assume, I am Lizzo. Mercenary for hire, and currently employed by the pathfinder society. For this adventure at least!”
He nods at Jenkins, “Sorry for the scare there, I thought I caught the scent of a tasty pest. But I appear to be mistaken since this little one speaks”.
Following their voyage, the party arrives in Elidir, the capital of Isger, and makes their way to the White Stag Inn. You find the inn abuzz with activity. Traders rub shoulders with merchants and river bargemen as furs and goods are exchanged.
A woman sporting an intricate braid and a well worn travel outfit waits for you at the door of the inn. Upon seeing you, she waves you over and greets each if you with a firm handshake before leading you to a booth in the corner of the taproom. Her motions indicate her excitement and some urgency.
A picture of the woman is now available on Maps & Handouts.
“Ah, good. You made it” she says, her eagerness evident in the tone of her voice. ”.I’m Karla Wesver. Welcome to Elidir, and welcome to the White Stag. It used to be that we Pathfinders had a bit of a strained relationship with the Chelaxian government. It still isn’t all sunshine and roses, but with the opportunity before us, we can now move about in public without fear of conflict or reprisal.”
“As you may know, Isger is still a vassal state of Cheliax.” she says with some lament. ”The Chelaxians have bled Isger dry for years, but the increased demand for goods like Chelaxian brandy and other luxury items in Molthune and beyond has resulted in Cheliax finally getting off its ass and investing some resources in Isger. Normally these goods go through Druma to reach Molthune, but Druma has been raising import taxes. Cheliax issued an open bounty to explorers the world over: establish a new trail through the Menador Mountains between Isger and Molthune, suitable for pack animals to traverse. So, this presents a rather rare opportunity for us to find a way through the Menador Mountains into Molthune. Calisro Benarry, leader of the Horizon Hunters faction, has a special interest in this bounty. She is hoping you will take to this challenge with gusto. She sent a package ahead for you.”
Karla pats a large brown paper package on the bench next to her before handing over a letter. The package contains a bottle of Urglin gin, a potent beverage.
See Handout #1: Benarry’s Letter on Maps & Slides.
Once satisfied that you have finished reading the letter, Karla continues. “All good then? I’ve arranged for a river barge to take you out to the Menador Mountains and packed some provisions for the journey. Not all of the food you’ll need for the journey, mind—carrying all of that would be too heavy, and likely to attract unwanted attention from the wildlife. You’ll want to forage along the way, if you can. My friend Jasikah Marten will be waiting for you in Canorate. She will help you file your paperwork with the Chelaxian officials, and she’ll also have a warm and comfy bed ready for you.”
Karla goes on to suggest that you make sure that you are well-supplied for the mission ahead, noting that additional supplies can be purchased here in Elidir before they depart.
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While seated at the table, Lazarus orders a brandy. He's disappointed, but not surprised, to find it's not served in a proper brandy snifter. He hesitantly takes a sip, nods to the server, and looks to the group. "Not bad. If any of you prefer brandy, I've had worse. I'm willing to buy the first round."
After carefully listening to Wesver's mission briefing, the Doctor tries to recall any information that might be useful. He's specifically interested in information about the Orc tribes mentioned in the letter.
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"Well this looks like it will be quite the adventure! I'm ready to get going as soon as we are ready, though I really don't like wearing boots, so constricting!" Peregrine says. He orders himself a small ale and looks through the provisions provided. "Is that all the food? Well I'm sure we will find anything we need to eat as we travel! I'm not the best hunter but I am a decent cook, so if one of us can kill it I can cook it!"
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He nods at Jenkins, “Sorry for the scare there, I thought I caught the scent of a tasty pest. But I appear to be mistaken since this little one speaks”.
Jenkins brushes it off. "Happens all the time."
Jenkins climbs up onto the table next to Madzork. "I would like you're smallest glass of ale, please. Or maybe if you have a thimble?"
With final preparations made, the party is free to board a river barge and set off on its expedition. The trip up the branch of the Conerica river is uneventful. You find that the roads alongside the river called the Conerica Straights are well‑patrolled by Isger’s army, presumably supported with auxiliary troops from Cheliax.
Once the river becomes too narrow for the barge to easily traverse, youn find that the only way to proceed is to disembark and continue on foot. You readily note that following the river is still the easiest way forward, as it has carved a relatively flat swath of land out of the hills.
After three days of travel, you spot a campfire just as dusk begins to fall. The river flooding during spring snowmelts has kept the terrain relatively free from large growth. Accordingly, no trees or bushes obscure your view of the flames in the distance.
As the party approaches the campfire, you can see a full campsite where five people are busy with food preparation and setting up the camp for the night. Remaining hidden from them, you find, is quite easy as none of them seem to be keeping watch.
From your current vantage, some distance away, you see that there are three young men and two young women within the camp. They each are wearing practical outfits, well‑suited for the rough terrain. Although the outfits and the gear are notable in that they all appear to be quite new.
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On the barge, Doctor Lazarus considers the Menador Mountains, and says to the others, "I remember hearing that the Menador Mountains are prone to extreme cold and occasional avalanches. We'd best be careful. And if I'm not mistaken, an orc tribe known as the Shattered Fang inhabit the area."
Lazarus nods to Peregrine, and heads toward the campfire with the others to study the campers.
When he sees the purple coat of arms, he whispers to the others, "Well that's odd. I do believe that shield represents the Chelaxian House Tilernos. It's a fine noble house. Which I respect. But not one that does much adventuring."
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Doctor Lazarus looks around, and when no one steps forward, he strides up to the campfire.
"Greetings. We're fellow adventurers." Lazarus stops where they can see him and he continues, "Your coat of arms ... you're from the noble house of Tilernos, are you not? There's little I respect more than nobility. May we join you?" If they're hesitant, he adds, "I believe we have gin."
Doctor Lazarus looks around, and when no one steps forward, he strides up to the campfire.
"Greetings. We're fellow adventurers." Lazarus stops where they can see him and he continues, "Your coat of arms ... you're from the noble house of Tilernos, are you not? There's little I respect more than nobility. May we join you?" If they're hesitant, he adds, "I believe we have gin."
One of the men is startled for a moment at the doctor's apparently sudden arrival, having failed to notice him earlier. "Adventurers?" the man asks, he then notices Isfan. "Just the two of you? And, no, I'm not from House Tilernos. But, my companion Sarevi is. Wait. How'd you know that?"
The man looks a bit on edge, but he manages to tentatively hold out a hand in greeting. "I'm Jasper, Jasper Caperinas." The others in his group start to gather round.
Dr. Lazarus does not notice any magical auras beyond those items possessed by his fellow Pathfinders.
"What's this about gin?" he asks.
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Dr. Lazarus steps forward to shake hands with Jasper. "Well met my dear boy. I'm Doctor Lazarus. As I mentioned before, the coat of arms..." he gestures to the purple shield, "...indicates House Tilernos."
He looks around. "Only 2 of us? No, there are a couple more. They're out ... scouting. They should be along shortly. With the gin." When the halfling steps forward, Lazarus says, "Ahh, here's one of them. Peregrine, meet Jasper and his companions." He finds a place to sit and awaits their response to Peregrine's question.
"Ahh, here's one of them. Peregrine, meet Jasper and his companions." He finds a place to sit and awaits their response to Peregrine's question.
"Well met to all of you then." Jasper replies.
"Yes, well met." repeats another of the campers. Somewhat older than Jasper, the speaker is nevertheless still a young man. He sports an unruly mop of red hair. "What Jasper is trying to say to you is, 'Welcome' and 'Please, join us by the fire.'"
The man, flamboyantly dressed in an expensive greatcoat dyed scarlet, calmly gestures toward the fire pit, which is still ablaze. As he does so, the other campers take take up seats around it, providing room for you to accompany them. "I am Amyas Charthagnion." says the red-headed man.
"These are my companions," he continues by way of introduction, pointing around the fire. "These fine ladies are Sarevi Tilernos and Leonie Ciucci. The nobleman over there is Dacian Julistarc. And, of course, you've already met Jasper."
Peregrine slides up out of the shadows and nods to the Chelaxians. "I do believe we have a little bit of gin somewhere around here. Where are you all coming from?"
"Is the slip so uncouth that he does not know from our names that we hail from some of the most prominent houses in Cheliax?" asks Dacian.
"The elf did note his familiarity with the coat-of-arms of House Tilernos, Dacian." Amyas replies quickly. "These are not barbarians."
Turning towards the party, Amyas continues. "Each of us is a fourth or fifth son or daughter of one of the Chelaxian noble houses. While our families might not get along, we have each known each other for quite some time, having all attended the same boarding schools and, quite often, the same social functions." The man pauses to take a long drink from his goblet.
Once done, he explains further, "When Cheliax issued an open bounty to explorers to establish a new trail through the Menador Mountains, we decided all together to set out and accomplish this great deed on our own."
Madzork approaches the fire, although he only seems to realize he's approaching new people until after he's with the rest of the group. "Oh, hi! I'm Madzork!"
Dacian let's out a startled, high-pitched scream when the goblin appears, obviously not having expected the Pathfinder's presence or ancestry. The startled nobleman quickly reaches for his bow, but a look from Amyas convinces him not to raise it.
Lizzo approaches the campfire as introduces himself, ”I am Lizzo, always available to help young Nobles.”
"We don't need 'help'." mutters the woman identified as Leonie. She clutches tightly to a map case and compass by her side. The woman seated beside her, wearing her family crest as a brooch pinning her cloak together at the shoulder and identified as Sarevi Tilernos, appears melancholy. She sits facing forward, her gaze seemingly lost among the flames in the fire pit.
"What Leonie is trying to say, is 'Each member of our band is well-skilled and helps complete our expedition." chimes Amayas. "For instance, I for one, am a skilled outdoorsman, having participated in many a hunt."
"Tell me," he asks broadly to each of you, "What is it that brings you to this area? And what skills, if any, do you think you possess that may allow you to survive here in the wilds of Isger?"
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The Doctor nods to Amayas in greeting and finds a spot near the campfire. As he's taking off his thick cold-weather coat, he studies the gear of the nobles.
"I must compliment you on your fine clothing. Looks like your gear is in ... pristine condition." He pauses and continues, "Impressive, but is this your first venture? We were told to expect bitter cold." Indicating his coat, "Do you have cold-weather gear similar to what we were provided?"
Lazarus looks to the others. "Who had the gin?" Turning back to Amayas, "I personally prefer brandy, but this Urglin Gin is reportedly quite good."
After a round of drinks, he remembers Amayas questions. "We too are here to forge a trail through the mountains, on behalf of the Pathfinder Society. Like you, our group is trained in various skills." He sets down his drink. "I'm a doctor and scholar and can handle a blade."
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As drinks are passed around, and the boasting of skills starts to spread, Lizzo responds:
”I am proficient in all things nature and survival. I grew up living outdoors, but my real passions lie in climbing and archery. No one’s a better shot while up a tree than me.”
With that he slams back his drink, and starts looking around for another.
"I must compliment you on your fine clothing. Looks like your gear is in ... pristine condition." He pauses and continues, "Impressive, but is this your first venture? We were told to expect bitter cold." Indicating his coat, "Do you have cold-weather gear similar to what we were provided?"
"First venture?" Amayas repeats, before quickly taking a drink as if stalling for time. "Why, I come from a long-line of hunters and adventurers. Many a night have I spent out in the wilds of my family's estate, stalking prey. The forest there was, of course, not quite like this area. More temperate for sure. Different prey. But, the wilds are the wilds, so to speak, not much difference between land or another."
Lazarus looks to the others. "Who had the gin?" Turning back to Amayas, "I personally prefer brandy, but this Urglin Gin is reportedly quite good."
A voice from Madzork's bag says, "So, no, no useful skills."
Jasper, the youngest of the five, heads towards the goblin's pouch, looking for the source of the voice. "What's in there? Some kind of creatures" asks the noble. He then excitedly reaches for a book in his possession, opening it up. It shows a series of sketches of animals and their tracks. "I use this to identify footprints. I bet I could give you a list of all the creatures in these parts, just by looking at the tracks they make in the dirt!"
”I am proficient in all things nature and survival. I grew up living outdoors, but my real passions lie in climbing and archery. No one’s a better shot while up a tree than me.”
"I highly doubt you know as much about the art of archery as I do." Dacian replies. "The key, of course, is in the proper fletching." He reaches for a well-crafted bow and quiver full of arrows, which are quite expensively looking. "Look here, you will never find a better bow or arrows--nor a better archer."
"Indeed, there is not a single creature anywhere on these mountains that would not succumb quickly to one of my bow shots, making a ready meal." declares Dacian.
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Dr. Lazarus continues talking with Amayas. He nods, taking great effort not to roll his eyes as the young noble explains about stalking prey on his family estate. "My dear boy, tracks here in the wild are trickier. Allow me to demonstrate."
Lazarus stands up and leads Amayas to some tracks, and studies them carefully. "Take these tracks for instance. At first glance they disappear here in the trees."
He points across the path. "But if you look closely, you'll see they reappear on the other side of the path."
"I hadn't consider that to be a possibility." Amayas confesses quietly, his tone for the first time being rather contemplative.
The woman identified as Sarevi Tilernos, wearing her family crest prominently displayed as a brooch pinning her cloak together at the shoulder, appears rather melancholy. "There are more dangers in this world than simply the threat of wild beasts." she mutters in response to the discussion of tracking animals. Piled behind her is a pile of gear, well-selected and in excellent. However, it is clear that it is not well-bound for the knots used are the wrong types and can be dangerous in certain situations.
Leonie Ciucci, the last of the nobles, acts stand‑offish and withdrawn towards the members of the party. "An elf? A goblin? One of the lizardfolk? You are all an odd lot." she declares. "Our band consists of proud countrymen. We were all trained at the same schools and share noble blood. Presented with a common goal, it is natural for us to form an expedition together. But, what is it that brings you all together?"
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Madzork slowly turns to face Dacian, his head tilted at an angle. He begins to speak, but not in his usual high-pitched screeches. Instead, he speaks in a very low and calm voice. ”You should avoid being so overconfident.” he says with a glassy-eyed stare maintained on the noble. ”These wilds are full of creatures lurking in the dark, creatures which nobody has seen before and lived to tell the tale. Patiently waiting for hunters whose hubris causes them to underestimate the dangers of their surroundings.” He starts to lean closer, still unblinking. ”Tracking them, observing them, understanding them, while the hunters still naively believe themselves to be the ones in control. And then, once they think they’ve caught their prey, once they let their guard down, once it’s far too late to save them, only then do they realize they were the prey all along.”
Suddenly, Madzork’s eyes refocus, and he turns back to the fire. ”Thanks again for letting us sit by your fire, House Tindalos people! Wait, weren't Tindalos those cute and fluffy dogs?” he says in his usual voice.