"I don't know what that black blob was, but it sure delivered quite a punch. Are you okay, Pazúr? Is there anyone nearby that is able to treat wounds? I still have plenty of pain from that encounter."
Remember, most of you guys are still on death's door.
Chivivit gratefully accept the anytool, ”Weird feelin’ to be gettin somethin’ for free that I haven’t nicked. Still, big damn heros like me deserve their rewards.”
As the party continues to try and gather their whits, the merchants continue to offer congratulations and thanks.
A middle-aged Zenj woman dressed in colorful fabrics hails you from a few stalls away. “Ah! Heroes! I would speak with you!” When the woman gets closer, she bows and introduces herself. “I am Abayone Munme, and I have the pleasure of serving on the Representative Council that administers Kibwe. Might I bother you for a moment of your time? That unfortunate transformation you just witnessed was, alas, not an isolated event.”
"Well met, Abayone Munme. I am Ferrun Munkustrap, a free Ammurrun at your service! I have indeed witnessed a most hideous creature and I am still not clear what exactly happened. I am still struggling with my wounds and yet this is not good news to hear that this was not an isolated event. What exactly is happening here in Kibwe?"
“Many rumors are circulating about these ghastly transformations in the city; other than myself, however, most are inclined to dismiss them as foolish jokes or the effects of too much alcohol.” She smiles grimly, tapping the side of her nose. “At first, so did I. But this is no joke. I would hire you to investigate. I can offer a stipend of ten gold pieces per day for expenses, but also the Representative Council’s gratitude, which you may find quite valuable.”
She looks at each of you in turn...
"“At first, so did I. But this is no joke. I would hire you to investigate. I can offer a stipend of ten gold pieces per day for expenses, but also the Representative Council’s gratitude, which you may find quite valuable.”
Ferrun scratches his chin and strokes his whiskers for a moment before responding. "Your stipend offer is a kind one and the cause is undoubtably a good one. I am free to help you, but you must recognize that this is very dangerous work. I'm wondering if the Representative Council can offer us any healing to do this work. Pazúr and I would prefer not to start using up our nine lives."
As a last minute thought, Ferrun also adds the following to the negotiation.
"We are also wondering if you can throw in one of those soft rugs from that merchant over there and give us a safe place to lay it out for the occasional cat nap?"
She thinks it over before responding. "I can get you healed up this one time, and since it looks like it's going to be a.... vigorous investigation, I can authorize 12 gold pieces per day. That's for the group of you mind you. I suppose I can through in a rug."
She gives a warm smile, tempered by worry, “Excellent, my friends. I have two leads so far; I ask you to follow up on these and find out anything else you can by asking around the city. First, I hear that a mystic named Baats’ulan preaches in the Adayenki Pavilion every sundown. Baats’ulan’s acolytes are numerous and secretive, but several have apparently been afflicted with this transformation. Second, the nation of Nex is known for crafting oozes, and a Nexian envoy named Mafzat A’Haddin maintains an office at the edge of the Iwisa Block, near the northern gate. I believe your investigations there would bear more fruit if you neglect to mention that you are working on behalf of the city—Mafzat has an unreasonable dislike of his post, and of the Kibwe government as a result.” Abayone gives a slight chuckle, as though incredulous that anyone might dislike Kibwe.
“If you can find some source of these transformations and put a stop to it, or if you find yourself at a dead end, come see me in the eastern market. My home is beneath the Pillar-Watcher that resembles a standing rhinoceros— ah, look, you can just see it from here.”
"Alright, Abayone. This price seems reasonable to me. How about the rest of you?" Ferrun asks his newfound friends. "Are you up for a little adventure getting rid of some oozes?"
"Alright, my friend. We are a little short on cash these days. We will take you up on your offer." Ferrun goes up and shakes hands with Abayone to agree to their deal.
After getting healed up, he will lead the company toward the northern gate in search of the office of the Nexian envoy named Mafzat A’Haddin.
"I'm happy to help out, and the pay seems fair," Pazúr weighs in. "And if you can get us healed up, all the better. That thing was nasty, in more ways than one."
Once his acid burns and contusions are healed, Pazúr says, "As you say, Ferrun, let's go talk to this Nexian fellow. I'm good at making friends, and can certainly keep from him who we're working for."
Chivivit nods, a sly smile on his face, "That pay sounds alright to me."
If I play my cards just right, we'll keep this investigation running for long enough to bleed this city dry.
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Hearing the calls for healing and the rumours of a recent battle, Holton gathers his items and heads towards the commotion. He comes upon the haggard group and instantly sees that these are the ones in need of help.
”Greetings my feline and little friends. I am sir Holton Carver, formerly of the Lastwall Knights and currently with the Radiant Oath of the Pathfinder Society. I am answering your call for aid and it looks like you could all use some healing and a bit of a hose down. I can certainly help with the former.”
Holton drops his shield and begins multiple prayers to Iomedae. This tall knight, with graying hair on the side of his head shows wisdom well beyond his years. He is well spoken and seems quite approachable. His breastplate is immaculate and has a symbol of Iomedae on the chest and a lion on the shoulder.
After the 3rd Heal, he starts treating the wounds manually.
on Ferrun.
The healing is taking some time so Holton starts asking about the tale that led to these wounds and who he needs to address the revenge to.
Abayone sees Sir Carver arriving, "Ah, here we go. Thank you. Sir Carver here is a competent healer. He's not an agent of Kibwe, he an adventurer like yourselves. I think you will make a solid team. And since this seems to be more dangerous than anyone realized, I put the call out for one more known adventurer. He should be here any second."
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A commotion can be heard moving through the market. ”Heyou! You have to pay for that! Heyou! You break it you bought it! ” and the like.
A moment later, a goblin bedecked with many vials and the like scampers over to where the adventurers are standing. He looks at the battered party.
”You all the peoples that Heyou! is supposed to fix up? That good, ‘cause me here now. ”
In many ways, this scruffy goblin seems to be the opposite sort of fellow from Sir Carver. But, once he gets down to it, his methods work effectively.
He gets right into healing, slapping bandages and poultices on the wounds. ”You lucky Heyou! is here! Me have my special medical kit.... made by Heyou! himself. No, don’t worry, the muds are clean and safe. Hardly any night soil in them.”
”Greetings my feline and little friends. I am sir Holton Carver, formerly of the Lastwall Knights and currently with the Radiant Oath of the Pathfinder Society. I am answering your call for aid and it looks like you could all use some healing and a bit of a hose down. I can certainly help with the former.”
"Well met, Sir Carver! I have to say, you've come at just the right time. I was a little apprehensive about trying to take on these slimes without more support, but now I am feeling better, especially with my wounds healed up! I see you are faithful to Iomedae. I have great respect for the Inheritor, but I should let you know that as a free Ammurrun, my faith leans more toward Desna, Our Song of Spheres. I'm not sure that I would have the discipline to follow the path that you take."
”You all the peoples that Heyou! is supposed to fix up? That good, ‘cause me here now. ”
"Umm, who exactly are you, and why are you continuously trying to get my attention?! I've been paying attention, but you still seem to call out to me frequently."
The newly acquainted sextet decides to first check out the Nexian office, and the attache there.
You weren't sure what you were expecting, but what you find is underwhelming. This cramped office is filled with folios, scrolls, and stacks of loose paper. Even the papers seem to wilt in the hot, humid air of the stuffy office. A large cat sprawls atop a cabinet, motionless except for the tip of its tail.
The office’s sole occupant, besides the tired cat, is a thin man with half-moon spectacles over watery eyes, a weak chin, and a perpetual scowl.
"Visitors? Really? What business do you have with the Vaunted Bureaucracy of Nex?"
"Hey there. Nice cat!" Ferrun butters up Mr. Half Moon Spectacles. "Are you the one and only, Mafzat A’Haddin, the Nexian Envoy? I can't believe I found this place. I'm wondering if you can help us? We are looking for some Nexians to help us craft oozes. I understand that Nexian are superb at it. Do you know anyone who can help us?"
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”You all the peoples that Heyou! is supposed to fix up? That good, ‘cause me here now. ”"Umm, who exactly are you, and why are you continuously trying to get my attention?! I've been paying attention, but you still seem to call out to me frequently."
"Huh? I am 'Heyou! Brumblebrasher' I come from small town of Breachill, up in Isger. Me very smart goblin, and a very good healer. Me also throw fire bombs at bad people and things. Just so you know.
"Me always called Heyou! so me think that my name so it is."
When Ferrun brings up oozes his demeanor turns cold, "OH! Of course, that's what we do in Nex, we make oozes and we kill people. Oh I've heard the rumors here, so naturally you all come running to Mafzat!"
He sighs dejectedly, "I can tell by your tone you're not accusatory. If you're here on the hunt for imfortation I can share two reports of interest. First, an elven healer named Numu in the Bwamandu Camp has been treating people suffering from a strange slime sickness. Second, a brute in the Bekyar Block named Grisshuk keeps turning people who cross him into oozes, an ability he hasn’t shown until very recently. It's all I've got. Really."
"Sounds good, now let me go back to being an ignored and forgotten career bureaucrat in a backwater assignment." You get the distinct impression that's exactly how he feels.
"Thank you very much, Mafzat! You are a scholar and a gentlemen. I wish you well and hope that your career takes of for you! You really are on the Nex Ambassador trajectory!"
Once outside, Ferrun comments to Heyou!. "So you want to visit Grisshuk first? Well you are correct, he sounds not very nice and we should be expecting more gloop!"
Pazúr gives Holton a sideways glance as he speaks so highly of Ferrun, then shrugs, "Indeed, great cat, lead the way!" He strolls along, his stride confident and relaxed like that of a hunting cat now that he knows the Iomedan and the odd little goblin will patch him up if he gets into trouble.
The Bekyar Block is the largest concentration of Bekyar humans in the city. Until recently, it was the site of the city’s slave market. Slave-taking has always been illegal in Kibwe, but slaves captured elsewhere were traded in the Bekyar Block. Kibwe’s Representative Council made slave trading illegal a few years ago, so slavers started protection rackets, “hiring” their former slaves as muscle.
Grisshuk isn’t hard to find. Casually asking around the Bekyar Block is enough to provide your with his description and current whereabouts.
"He’s nearly 7 feet tall and powerfully muscled, with large iron fishhooks dangling from his ears and nose."
"Everyone in the block knows he’s been hanging out near a small shrine to a deity named Grandmother Grace, which is unusual for such an amoral, irreligious thug like Grisshuk."
Ferrun: ???
Pazúr: ???
Heyou!: ???
Holton: ???
Chivivit: ???
Kicsit: ???
"I appreciate the information. May Desna's luck shine on you and your family." Ferrun replies.
He leads the rest onward to find this small shrine.
Pazúr's mottled grey coat makes it easy for him to slip through the shadows, as he hopes to avoid another surprising encounter with an acidic ooze.
----------
Defaults:
Ferrun: Scout
Pazúr: Avoid Notice
Heyou!: Search
Holton: Search
Chivivit: ???
Kicsit: ???
Chivivit and Kicsit continually scan for magical auras. Between the two, nothing should pass the party by. The party makes their way to The Shrine of Grandmother Grace.
The back-alley shrine’s door is already open. A stylized symbol of a smiling old woman holding a glowing orb lovingly to her chest has been carved above it. The interior is a single large room with low partition walls and a few tattered mats. At the far end, a stone font filled with water stands in a large box of sand. A muscular orc wearing blood-stained hide armor kneels in front of the font while reverently pouring water into the sand.
Grandmother Grace is a local interpretation of Sarenrae, focusing on her redemptive aspect.
Ferrun approaches and reverently kneels in the sandbox to pray out loud.
”Forgive me, Grandmother Grace. I do not always come to talk with you, but I ask that you grant me the grace to forgive those who harm me and hurt my companions. May I bring light to all whom I meet in my daily walks.”
After letting his prayer be heard, the cat waits as if for an answer. Finally, he stands up and observes the muscular orc playing in the sandbox.
”Forgive my intrusion, strong one, but I’m curious what you are doing. Does this ritual bring you closer to grace?”
At Ferrun's voice, his focus opens to include the party, He turns to his full height, which is impressive. His voice is proportionately deep, "That is my hope travelers. Though I fear by even talking to me you've brought ill upon yourselves. Clearly you are here for me as your numbers, attire, and attention make it obvious. Is today the day?"
Although the party outnumbers the lone orc, Ferrun is genuinely trying to be unoffensive and make inroads for Grisshuk to open up to him and his companions.
"My friend, I do not understand. How have we brought ill upon ourselves? We are here to both give our respects to Grandmother Dawnflower, but also to speak with a fellow traveler. Are you the one they call Grisshuk, the Seeker of Grace?"
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Hmm, thsi big fella seems to have pretty strong feelings about that sandbox, Pazúr thinks to himself. I guess if I gotta go, I should find somewhere else.
He's about to speak up and use his silver tongue to charm the orc, when Ferrun steps in and opts to be genuinely gracious instead. Leaving his catfolk kin to lead the conversation, Pazúr keeps an ear to what's being said while taking a quiet step into the shadows of the small shrine.
"Indeed I am. I do not want to fight you either, and I have no intention of doing so. You see, I am cursed. People turning into slime? Yes, that’s me. I’ve been breaking legs and taking slaves most of my life. Never thought it would catch up to me, but it did. I’ve been cursed by the gods, and cursed hard. Now, people I meet turn into slime. You probably will, too, for meeting me. I figure I gotta repent of my evil ways and ask for mercy from the gods. Can’t think of any other way.”
Ferrun takes a step back from Grisshuck once he realizes that the orc is cursed.
"I see." Ferrun replies. "So you are saying that people you come in contact with turn to slime? Is this everyone you meet? Is it humble catfolk as well?"
"It's not everyone, but it does seem to be most. I haven't kept track." He sighs heavily, "It wasn't always this way. It started when Matala came."