Enora, a small female halfling in fine robes looks at all of you with interest.
She walks through the room and says "Oh yes, I am finally here!! Hello, my name is Enora. I assume we are all professionals here!! Might be a good chance to get to know each other. I am from Rahadoum originally and am quite interested in magical phenomena - I hope to have your support in uncovering the secrets of this wonderful world. And I am quite optimistic that we will be successful!" she says cheerfully.
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Having responded to his supercilious summons, you now sit in a private conference room at the Grand Lodge across from the enigmatic druid known only as Osprey.
Osprey waits impatiently as Enora introduces herself. "Better later than never." he murmurs under his breath, before turning to the rest of you and clearing his throat awkwardly.
“I do hate gatherings like this so I'll get right to it. I’ve summoned you here to perform a task of dire necessity. An influential, uh, venture-captain has been afflicted with a terrible curse, and we can’t seem to break it. I’ve done extensive research and believe I know what needs to be done, however. I’ve collected humors from a number of vile creatures, all with supernatural shape-shifting properties, and hope they can be utilized to revert our dear associate to her rightful form. One of these reagents—the yellow bile of a doppelganger—I entrusted to an old... let’s call her an acquaintance, shall we? Her name is Eya Uygroulis, though she is often better known as the Phitoness of Axioms, and she’s an extremely powerful seer. She was to prepare the reagent for the forthcoming reversion ritual and deliver it here three days hence; I have heard nothing from her and the prepared reagent is nowhere to be found."
Osprey suddenly stops and looks each of you in the eye, to ensure you are keeping up.
“Eya lives alone in a sacred hermitage high in the Mindspin Mountains, along the border between Nidal and Molthune. I need you to travel there immediately to speak with her, but be subtle with your investigations. She’s a wily one, and quite powerful. Find out why she hasn’t sent the reagent and what I must do to earn her cooperation. She and I have a history, and I fear she may ask more than I can deliver. You are authorized to do whatever you may do within your own means to persuade her to cooperate. If something’s happened to her, of course, I ask that you do your best to ensure her safety, but your priority is the reagent.”
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Apologies for being late...my summons got misrouted... a lanky elf says as he enters the room in a bit of a hurry. He walks with nearly no sound soming from his armour. A large menacig sword bounces off his hip as he moves. He acknowledges the other agents in the room.
I am Rallas...delighted to meet you all. How may I be of service to the Society now? he says before the briefing.
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An elf with a friendly smile speaks up from the corner. ”I’ve learned that sometimes there’s a bit more going on than meets the eye with our missions. Any clue or suspicions what migh have happened? Is she known to consort with any particular types of creatures? What can you tell us about the mountain area?”
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"Interesting. It's been some time since I've been anywhere near Nidal. I remember the journey...somewhat fondly," Reminisces a statuesque human nun not sitting, but standing, in a self-imposed stress position, in an underlit corner of the conference room. Her features, accent, and bearing mark her as quite Chelaxian, yet where one would expect a Chelaxian to be exceptionally fair of skin for a human, hers is black as iron, as if it had been repeatedly marinated in coal or ash, possibly at both extremes of temperature. Her clothing, though clearly of respectable monastic quality and origin, is minimal, but is generously complemented by many wicked and cumbersome chains; these bear the iconography of Zon-Kuthon.
"Our priority is the reagent," She continues, abruptly shifting to the task at hand. "Understood. In that case, how much of a concern is this...seer's safety, really? If it should...*unh*-*aHE!*" She suddenly cannot help interrupting herself as she intensifies whatever exercise or devotion she is practicing over there by lacerating herself with her chains, "...If our achieving the reagent should prove necessarily contingent upon-*slow gasp*-the seer's security, then of course we shall see to it that she is secure...but suppose, given the 'history' of which you speak, her continued safety proves-*AAHH!* more of an obstacle to our prize than a step toward it?"
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Ghukar listened to Osprey, trying to remember if there was anything he knew about the reagent.
"We have served the Society for a long time and have ran into many issues that we had to deal with. We will not know until we arrive there as to what the holdup is, so prepare for any kind of problem." said a male wayang.
"Oh, yes. Greetings I am Ghukar, an alchemist." he added.
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A small gnome, with bright orange hair and smelling of soot and chemicals, makes his presence known. You're a bit surprised since you didn't see him come in, nor had he said a word until then, so no one is quite sure how long he's been lurking in the corner.
"Who's the toffer what got jiggered?" He asks Osprey. "And what prigs sharped the twist up front?"
"Plenty a scurf known to nob a pidge, then church their way back in with some lush tonic or other. Tool ya comin' and goin'."
Enora claps her hands.
"We can save a fellow Pathfinder and we can find out what happened to a mighty seer! All good for me!" Enora says.
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Osprey grits his teeth during the barrage of questions, trying to sort them out, particularly Milo's.
"I have known Eya for quite a while. As I said, she is quite powerful so I would assume she associates with others of that ilk. We are sending you to find out the details. Mind you, she is still an ally of the Society, she just may need a reminder of that fact. Treat her as such." he nods to Kali, before turning to Milo. "As to the cursed venture-captain’s identity, well that is confidential and none of your concern. We shall handle their recovery."
Standing up as if to conclude the meeting, he smiles a crooked smile.
"As for the Mindspin Mountains? Well, dress warmly... and be prepared to climb."
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Enora quickly goes shopping and buys cold weather gear!
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"Yes. Preparation is key. Good luck then." Osprey shoves a hastily drawn map into Tess' hands and gives a dismissive wave to shoo you from the room.
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The trek to Nidal is uneventful but long. Colors seem to drain away as one moves toward the heartlands of the nation, leaving the world tinted subtly monochrome. Once there, travel through the wilderness is fraught with peril, but nothing that seasoned adventurers such as yourselves can't handle.
After a few weeks of overland hiking, supplies run a bit low, but Rallas is able to find enough game to keep you well fed.
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The next morning you close in on the only notable location on Osprey's map. The mountain trail widens here, and glints of sunlight dart through the clutching, skeletal branches of the towering yellow pines. The incline softens into a small dell, set against the backdrop of the gray, toothy peaks of the Mindspin Mountains. Near the center of the clearing stands a small hovel of rough basalt stones, neatly covered with sod to protect it from the mountain’s wintery chill.
According to Osprey’s map, this is the sacred hermitage of Eya Uygroulis—his former associate (and probable estranged lover) — better known as the Phitoness of Axioms. Scouting the hovel, you see numerous windows and a pair of doors. The front door (within the fenced-in area) is curiously open a few inches.
There is an uneasy stillness within the dell. Nothing stirs within its perimeter, not even the wind...
Enora casts detect magic and shouts.
"Helloooooo, we are here!! Osprey sent uussss!"
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Milo, mostly quiet during the trip, eyes the small hovel with obvious suspicion... though you'll have noted by now that he seems to view everything that way.
As Enora starts announcing their presence to everyone, and everything, in the area, without a care in the world, he curses quietly to himself, and quickly ducks in beside a small outbuilding. He does his best to go unnoticed by whatever she might attract.
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The eerie silence does not aid Rallas' attempt to sneak up to the abode. There doesn't appear to be any traps in the fenced in area.
From this new vantage, Rallas (and the others close by) can now discern a sickly yellow glow that emanates from the grease-smeared windows, leaving the interior room dim and shadowy, even while a beam of direct light slips in from the open door. An interior wall prevents a clear view inside.
Ghukar scans the surrounding area for other threats, but finds none for now.
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All of the greasy windows diffuse your vision to prevent detailed examination of the interior, but the general layout of the rooms is still evident. There seems to be no occupants, only scattered furniture.
Near the back door, you notice many tracks in the dirt. The prints appear to have come from approximately half a dozen booted humanoids leading away an unshod human female into the woods beyond.
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Rallas goes back to the others and then leads them to the back door. He shows them the tracks.
I can follow them when we're done here...might be something in here we can find out about who we're dealing with. he says as he slowly heads in through the door, sword at the ready. He looks about for any signs of anything suspicious.
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Feeling confident the door is not trapped, Rallas gathers the others at the back door. A beam of direct light slips in from the door once opened. The illumination highlights a small table of rough-cut pine. A note rests atop the table, weighted in place by a small soapstone figurine carved to resemble a seahawk.
Enora confirms a magical aura on the figurine.
Enora is not scared and goes in.
”How lovely!!“
She takes the figurine and rubs it.
Then gives it to Ghukar.
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As the group converges on the table, Enora reaches for the figurine. Picking it up, everyone sees a connected thin wire underneath that pierces the table. In an instant, beams in the wall buckle and the roof caves in above you!
Enora - 29 damage and buried
Ghukar - 24 damage and buried
Kali - 26 damage and buried
Rallas - 27 damage and buried
As the dust clears, Milo and Tess are able to do their best to start freeing you from the debris. Despite their combined lack of strength they quickly free the four of you before anyone starts to suffocate.
The room now bathed in outside light, you can inspect the figurine and note closer.
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I knew it...gods, I should ave seen that...sorry everyone. I missed that...won't happen again. Rallas says after cursing in about 12 different elven dialects as he gets dug out. He examine the note.
This note is uteer nonsense. Completely non sensical. And I can use the wands as well...but I think Enora can use this one best...might make you feel...a bit dark...
[ooc]i have a wand of infernal healing if anyone wants....if you could Enora...that would be great...beats having me use my UMD...[/b]
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A squeaky voice buried in the rubble could be heard cussing up a storm in 17 languages, which is rather impressive given that one of them was Celestial. Ghukar, after getting freed from the collapsed roof, looked at Enora and just shook his head before taking out a large splinter from his arm. Pulling out a wand, he started to patch himself up
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Milo is not surprised to see the roof collapse. Though wonders briefly how they managed it so cleanly. Was a good trick.
Heavy lifting is clearly not his forte, though he goes through the motions of moving aside a few of the smaller bits, for appearances. Mostly those buried free themselves.
"Some prig jiggered that fancy." He mutters absently, as he looks at a suspicious bit of wood, before tossing it aside.
"Whatever vamped the nob what roosted here weren't flush on any lamps keenin' their bootsteps." He adds, going back outside, and moving along to the back door where Rallas found the tracks going away.
Enora stands up and is badly hurt.
“Ouch!! I think I am too reckless!“
She applies Rallas wand to him thrice over three minutes.
“I hope it is ok if I use it, too?“ she asks innocently.
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After a half-minute's stillness, a black fist plunges up out of the wreckage like a small, belligerent obelisk, and begins helping Milo and Tess exhume the rest of it.
"We have been blessed with a lesson in Pain," Kali observes. "The worthy always learn enough from such lessons to earn two more...the unworthy earn but one."
She gladly volunteers for Rallas's wand.
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Hang on to that, Enora...might be better in the long run for us all. I have a backup if needed... the elf shows his sprig loaded sheath with a wand tucked in it.
You're right, Kali...pain is a wonderful motivator. It teaches you to not make mistakes. Now...to find the son of a motherless goat that set that trap... he says angrily as he follows the tracks left.
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As everyone is properly healing up, the group double-checks the hovel for any other clues or discoveries. Nothing more can be found, so the group follows Rallas, who is primed to followed the tracks.
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The easily followed tracks lead toward the mountains where the cold winds start to pick up. After about a quarter mile of travel, you see the ruins of a small settlement. Heavily overgrown, only the crumbling foundations of several small huts provide evidence of its existence.
Within one of the foundations, a small, man-made clearing conceals the scattered remnants of a hastily fled campsite.
Snow has been thrown upon the coals, though they are still warm, and indents in the ground mark the sleeping locations of at least four individuals. Near the fire rests a small woodpile and a sack with some candles, a half-day’s rations, and a few other mundane possessions. From a nearby tree hangs a makeshift birdcage, crudely woven from saplings. Something lays motionless inside. A black raven.
Rallas again spots the series of footprints leading farther up the frigid mountain. Similar to the tracks leading from the hovel to the camp, these tracks indicate that a human woman was brought against her will up the mountain by a small band of rough-shod humanoids.
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As the healing power surges through it, the raven's wing straightens and stretches out as if subconsciously testing its strength. The bird's eyes open and it scrambles to regain its footing within the cramped makeshift cage.
Blinking to adjust to its new surroundings, it suddenly speaks in a precise, but low-volumed feminine voice. "I would hope you will free me, so that I may find my mistress again."