Character Introductions
When introducing yourselves in your opening post, choose one or more questions below to answer.
Q) What is your most unusual feature?
Q) How did you arrive to Caliphas? Where are you coming from? Describe your journey here.
Q) In the Downtime that occurred before this adventure, what did you do? How does it tie into joining this mission?
Q) In what kind of situations would you be a leader in? What skillset would you be drawing upon? What is your leadership style?
Q) How well do you work under pressure? When performing a time-sensitive job, how do you prioritize different tasks? Describe your process.
If you haven't already, also put your Check In (Phase One) info in Discussion.
Also, please paste your Character Token on the Slides (also linked in GM bar).
Without further ado, let's
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A human woman sits on a crate on the deck of a ship as it approaches the Port of Caliphas. Her long black hair is lifted back from her face by the wind. She wears crimson leather boots that run almost up to her knees, covering black leggings. A well-fitting green silk tunic completes the outfit. On her hip she carries a rapier and she's holding a fiddle in her hands. It's a beautiful instrument, made of a deep red wood with swirling patterns painted in black along the sides. She had been playing quietly when the activity level on deck suddenly increased and she looked up to see the city taking shape in front of her.
THIS is the life! All my life I only saw in and around Katapesh! I knew there was so much more to the world! I'm so glad I went to the Pathfinder Lodge in Almas. I didn't want to just stay in one place my whole life! Can you imagine? I feel so awful for people that know only one place. If I stayed there, then I'm sure I would have continued to get missions in that area. At least for a new recruit like me. But they seemed happy enough to send me elsewhere in Almas!
I have heard so much about Ustalav...how much of it is true?? I can't believe that I get to visit in person! I've been traveling long enough...it will be nice to get to spend a little more time in one place. I do admit I'm a little nervous, though...some of the stories are truly awful. I wonder if any other Pathfinders are on this boat, or maybe there are arriving from other places or already in Caliphas?" She looks around her, once again trying to guess who may or may not be a fellow Pathfinder.
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"Ryiah?" A small ruddy-skinned goblin with red hair and a patchy red beard approaches the woman. He wears traditional Kelish robes dyed blue and adorned with yellow suns. A goblin dogslicer hangs on his sash, and a holy symbol of Sarenrae, the Dawnflower, hangs on a cord around his neck.
"رياح." He addresses her in Kelish. "اعتقدت أن كان لك. إنه روفوس ريد فاير. التقينا في النزل في كاتابيش. كمان صوتك يبدو جميل كما كان دائما أعتقد أن لدينا وقتًا لأغنية أخرى قبل وصولنا إلى الميناء."
Rufous then begins singing and encourages Ryiah to follow along on her fiddle.
"♫ ♬
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
♫ ♬ . . . ."
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"Red! Hello! Have you been on the boat this whole time? How did I miss you?!" She laughs, then places her bow to the strings and begins to play.
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A tall human man, with long blond hair, dressed in heavy furs is standing at the far front of the ship. He is throwing small stones into the water. He takes a swig from a bottle of something and looks at Ryiah and Rufous "I sure hope this is the city I am suppose to be going to. I think I lost track of time down below, too many late nights playing dice witht he crew."
He turns back to look out over the forward of the ship a smile on his face as he lets the wind flow over him. "I like the music."
((Darg spends most of his downtime performing or fighting, either for show or in back alley matches to make enough copper to find a barn or common room to sleep in. This saves money to eat and drink in excess.))
((Darg can be unpredictable in high stress situations, his Chaotic Neutral alignment showing through, but he is generally brave, if a little reckless))
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Brayka takes the bottle passed over by Darg. "For Cayden Cailean," He takes a sip, careful not to spill any on his freshly buffed breastplate. "What do you think, Darg, will they pay for our stage fighting in Caliphas? Sweet barleybrew, I'm tired of being motion sick on this boat." Brayka stares at the emerging city through one green and one blue eye. His black-furred profile stands out against the shoreline with his missing left ear.
"It's fortunate we joined up near Tymon. I was sad to leave the rest of the troupe, but, Pathfinding calls. Still, that's enough of Razmiran for a while. It reminds me too much of my homeland of Geb."
Preferring to be prepared, Brayka's kit is already secured on his person. The grip of a forge fresh bastard sword pokes from atop its hip sheathe. Daggers sit waiting on the left forearm and right boot. A long-serviced flail and shiny new brass compass adorn each side of the pack. Secured across the back is a spiked steel round shield, sporting a fresh yellow sigil of Cayden on a white background. While the paint is fresh, the shield itself looks recently restored from some hard blows . . . akin to the new scars on its owner.
Brayka hums harmonically to the tune Ryiah and Red cast over the waves, enjoying the wind and the moment.
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Leaning against the rail is a tall bronze skinned man with subtle points to his ears under their golden hair blowing in the sea breeze revealing is half-elven heritage. They wear a smile and have deep violet eyes that twinkle with mirth as they ponder their life and travels so far. Having travelled up from the River Kingdoms through the port in Tymon before boarding this ship their golden burnished Plate armour shows the odd nick of blade from a rather vicious fight against some fake firebrands. The latest chapter of their Ravenstar's Guide to the forces of undeath sits in an open crate to let the ink dry off.
They turn to face the two warriors sharing a drink and smiles, revealing a ritualistic dagger belted at their hip - the sheath inscribed with a silver spiral that starts at the top and seems to feed back into itself at the bottom to begin anew. Their large kite rounded polished silver shield also bears a spiral etched into it and they wear a sheathed Bastard Sword on the opposite hip to the dagger.
"Mind if I take a share?" they enquire with a soft but resonant tone, before introducing themselves. "Nenyath Ravenstar - Sentry of Lastwall and devotee of the lady of Graves. You act? Charming - been in anything I may have heard of?"
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Darg turns and gives the bottle to Nenyath. He elbows Brayka, "Actors, you hear that!" Darg takes a long slow bow, "I last performed in the esteemed barn of the last inn I was in, to a packed crowd of degenerates and cut throats." Darg tips up on his tippy toes and spins around in an overly outrageous fasion. "I think it was called The Last One Standing Gets the Coin." He stops his spin and again faces out into the water. "I doubt you have seen it, but you look like you could have taken that purse if you wanted."
You get the feeling that Darg has just mocked and complimented you all in one semi-lucid string of thought.
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Ryiah smiles and nods in appreciation of Darg's compliment. She then brings the music to a close and grins down at Red, gesturing toward the small group of men drinking on the deck. "Looks like we'll be well-protected!" Glancing toward shore, she says, "Well, it looks like we are getting pretty close to shore! I suppose it's time to pack up!"
She hops down from the crate she's been sitting on and secures her fiddle to her back. She approaches the group confidently. "You are all Pathfinders as well? Sent to meet Venture-Captain Zongnoss? If so, then it looks like we'll be working together. I am Ryiah Dorne, fiddler extraordinaire." She gives an overly dramatic bow, then grins mischievously at them.
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Darg nods, "I am Darg. I am indeed a pathfinder, and I do believe that I was sent here to meet said Venture Captain." Darg indicates to a small pile of gear sitting a few feet away that consist of a worn backpack, a flail, and a round steel shield. "I hit things."
There is a long moment where Darg appears to be preparing to follow up his short statement, but after a few seconds he just grins and turns back to the sea, whatever though he was going to have lost.
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As the ship docks, the PCs make their way to the Lodge.
The landscape is lush, but strange. Beautiful oaks tower over you, as if watching from above. The thicket to the side of the pathway emits strange noises that sound similar to wing-rubbing insects, but seem to alter their volume as you pass by, and pick up once again after you've passed. The temperature slowly rises from cold to warm as morning breaks to midday, as if anticipating your arrival.
The Lodge itself has vertical towers that rise into points adorned with figurines that seem to lurk in guardianship, it's shading expressing the full spectrum of the colors black and grey. A living moss seems to cling to the stonework all around it, even as the surrounding gardens seem well-tended, evidenced by the unnatural shapes many of the hedges take the form of; creatures frozen in some aspect, many with claws and fangs and hooves, painstakingly clipped into just the right configurations, evoking a feeling of being amongst the beasts in some foul zoo.
Not a single sound - save for the crickets - is audible as you approach. Nor are there any figures except the stone gargoyles adorning the various roofs and the bestial inmates of the gardens...
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Everyone starts with one Hero Point.
GM has awarded both Brayka and "Red" an additional one for helping out in Discussion!
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As the group approaches the creepy Pathfinder Lodge, Rufous casts light on his holy symbol, and begins quietly singing a tune to bolster his courage as much as the courage of his companions.
"♫ ♬
Well, there's a dark and a troubled side of life
There's a bright and a sunny side too
But if you meet with the darkness and strife
The sunny side we also may view
♫ ♬ . . . ."
As he continues his song, the goblin devotee of Sarenrae continuously glances from side to side, half expecting one of the topiary shrubs to attack at any moment.
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Brayka surreptitiously lets the others pass him, then takes up the rear. His shield now adorns his left arm.
As Red passes, Brayka grins at him tightly and adds his own stanza:
"♫ ♬
Well, there's a dark and a troubled side of life
There's a crisp and clear side too
When doubt and uncertainty become rife
Our friends will see us through
♫ ♬ . . . ."
Despite his tone, a troubled frown gathers on Brayka's brow as he scrutinizes the topiaries and listens closely to the "crickets." (Investigate: Nature)
"My fate entwines with effigies and insects lately," he mutters mostly to himself ...
At Darg's comment, he calls forward "It's polite to knock, the edge of a steel shield makes a great knocker."
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Taking the bottle and laughing warmly at the man's explanation of their talent for 'Stage Fighting' - taking a swig they shudder slightly as the burning liquid that goes down their throat, fighting back a wince. "Smooth..." they says hoarsely holding back a cough. As Bakya approaches the bow. "Indeed - Nenyath Ravenstar at your service, Redeemer of Pharasma."
"Well this is a welcoming place eh? Super grey and dour..." they comment as they make their way through the grounds - shield strapped to one arm yet their Blade sheathed at their hip. They keep their eyes pealed and ears open for signs of disturbance as they approach the door. "I suggest knocking too - wouldn't want to seem rude to the Venture Captain after all and we wouldn't want to scratch their door with shields my friend." Happy to take the lead, Nenyath will step up to the door and knock using the assumingly grotesque door knocker.
As Nenyath grabs the "tongue" of the grinning knocker and raps it against the gigantic door, the sound echos across the halls with a slow, low-pitched reverberation, and the building otherwise sits quiet for a few moments. Soon enough, a slow creaking begins to be audible from perhaps the second floor of the structure inside, and it continues becoming progressively louder, until audible just behind the door!
Shunk a metal flange is depressed, and a single eye peers out from it, looking first Nenyath, then the rest in turn, up and down, before shutting again. Another creak is heard as the immense doors begin to budge open. Before you stands a tallish well-groomed human man dressed in a black tuxedo with purple fringe. His left arm is to his side as he stands perfectly erect, unsmiling. He bends his right hand in anticipation of receiving something, and seems to leave the air between you empty as if waiting for you to speak.
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"Hello sir," Rufous digs his letter from Evni Zongnoss out of his pocket and presents it to the tuxedoed man in the doorway. "I am Rufous Redfire of the Katapesh Pathfinder Lodge. My friends and I," he gestures to his companions, "are all Pathfinder Society members, and we were summoned by Captain Zongnoss for an important mission. Would she happen to be about?"
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Darg gives a broad grin and reaches out to shake the man's hand, pulling it back as he sees Rufous hand him the letter. He pauses for a moment, understanding that a handshake was not what was being looked for, then says, "Hello, my name is Darg, from that boat down at the docks." Darg points back over his shoulder in the direction of the port for emphasis. A small rumbling sound eminates from him and he says, "Don't suppose you have some breakfast?"
The gentleman accepts the letter, and amazingly, seems to somehow cock one eye in your general directions while the other eye scans the text, all without even moving his head (or any part of his body)!
But a moment elapses and he steps aside to allow passage "Venture Captain Evni Zongnoss awaits your arrival upstairs" mirthlessly the words leave his mouth with a punctual perfunction. As you all walk by, you notice he suppresses a sour look when a tiny gust of breeze sends the scent of Nenyath's all-morning travel into his nostrils, causing him some offense and discomfort, which, if "allowed" to express himself, you imagine would be a sideways comment.
Instead, he says nothing, and the party winds up the single creaky staircase adorned with melted candles. The inside of the lodge is dark as the very architecture itself interferes with how the sun's refractory light usually penetrates to within a building, and the smell in the air strikes as some combination of dust, wood, and incense. It is clean - meticulously so. And once the party ascends, before them is a long table - perhaps five times the length than width - and at the furthest end sits a harried gnome clad in a blue turban and matching robe decorated with golden crescent moons and butterflies. "Ah! Do sit! Please" a friendly request. In the middle of the table rests a parchment map stuck with miniature flag partly obscuring the label “Lastwall.”
“Apologies for the out-of-date cartography, but it’s the best we can do at this time. The re-emergence of Tar-Baphon dealt a devastating blow to the Society, so we’ve been scrambling to consolidate resources. The Society is focusing on missions into the Gravelands for two reasons: to track down the whereabouts of Pathfinder agents who went missing when the undead hordes struck, and to recover the fragments of history and culture that yet survive."
She seems to size you all up a moment. And it is then that you notice, while she spoke, like some sneaky black cat, the man who opened the door for you has returned up the stairs, and having done so, immediately presents the summons to Evni, as if answering a silent question she held in her mind. She briefly looks over it, and nods to him. He disappears.
Standing now, and circling around, the Venture Captain points to a flag in the southeast portion of Lastwall. “Goldenflame was an idyllic place surrounding a college sponsored and supported by the church of Iomedae. Fortunately, most of the town was able to evacuate swiftly, but we know that some residents stayed behind out of a sense of civic duty to defend their home against evil. You see, Goldenflame College is known for its documentation of the history of both southeastern Lastwall and the activities of the church of Iomedae in the region, as well as its collection of invaluable local curiosities accrued over time. Those relics and stories—if they can be recovered, well, then Lastwall can live on.”
Evni excuses herself and shortly returns with a bundle of paper. “These dossiers contain information on all known Pathfinder agents in the region surrounding Goldenflame. Although we must hold out hope, I cannot truthfully say I am optimistic. Nevertheless, closure is important, and we can properly mourn for their loss and celebrate their lives if we know their fates. Perhaps these documents could be of some use to you in this quest. I’ve also completed and signed travel documentation stating your reasons for being in the Gravelands. Present this document to the border crossing, and you can then be on your way.”
Evni walks over to a nearby bench where sits a relatively massive pack, where she begins sorting through its contents. She pulls out a bundle of sacks. “Here. These are for you to transport any items or—” she bows her head “—remains you might find. I know it is a sad and gruesome task, but retrieving those fallen Pathfinders would bring closure to their loved ones.”
Evni then closes the pack and shoulders it. “I’m also heading into the Gravelands myself. May Desna guide us all on our journeys. Hopefully we can find what we seek.”
Here, she pauses to answer any questions you all may have.
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Unfortunately, you are unable to recall anything of use as concerns this part of the world, nor about the Goldenflame College...
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Rufous walks over to the table, picks up a couple of sacks and stows them in his pack.
"By the light of the Dawnflower, may we find these agents still living in Goldenflame. But if that is not the case," he vows, "we shall bring their mortal remains to a proper rest."
The Sarenrite Novice turns to ask, "My Lady, Captain Zongnoss, what dangers might we expect on our travels through the Gravelands?"
He adds, "And what more can you tell us of Goldenflame College? Could it have been used as an ad hoc fortification by the Pathfinders and other residents who stayed behind?"
"Is there a church or temple in Goldenflame? If so, to which gods or goddesses?"
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As they walk up the stairs, Nenyath subtly takes a sniff at the collar of their shirt at the butler's dodgy look - they had last bathed in one of the River King's manse before boarding the boat but they had been travelling since and were self conscious of the silent judgement. Not bringing attention to it however, they enter the briefing room and nod to the Venture Captain as they introduce themselves. "Nenyath Ravenstar, Lastwall Sentry - or at least I was before the incident." he introduce himself before trailing off in memory at the end.
Listening to Red's questions they nod as they retrieve two sacks and place them in their pack, knowing full well the grisly details of a village after a raid by the servants of undeath. "Has there been any attempt to contact Goldenflame of late? My best estimate is that there will still be Undead soldiers of the Tyrant wandering the place - including possible villagers and even agents. We need to be prepared."
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Brayka blanches a bit at the description of the mission. After Evni passes him the papers, he makes a show to the party of stowing the travel papers in his right belt pouch. He then spreads the dossiers on the table for the party to peruse, and his eyebrows raise as he counts the number of agents. "That's a lot." He waits for Red and Nenyath to finish asking questions before adding his own.
"Milady, is there anything to speed travel to and from GoldenFlame? Is there a map of it? Also," he looks balefully at the sacks "Is there anything ... err ... more voluminous or easier to handle you might provide for this mission?"
Then he adds "The survivors: If they do not want our escort out, is there a site we can direct them to for support or evacuation?"
As the rest of the conversation continues, Brayka picks up 2 sacks and stows them in his pack.
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Darg takes two sacks and stuffs them into his pack. He takes the travel documents and after spending a few seconds trying to figure out where on his person he should put them, also puts them into his backpack.
"I have fought undead. Nasty business. Best to hit them with something blunt."
He listens to the others questions and begins looking over the roster of missing agents. He nods periodically, as if absorbing some special knowledge or thoughts on the agents. Eventually he turns to the man in the stylish clothing, "How about that breakfast?"
"Has there been any attempt to contact Goldenflame of late? My best estimate is that there will still be Undead soldiers of the Tyrant wandering the place - including possible villagers and even agents. We need to be prepared."
The gnome is quick "Not a word - and yes, the lands are crawling with legions of the undead. Make no mistake about the danger of what the mission is asking of you: You are to tread carefully into the very heart of the beast, conduct your recovery and rescue, and get out as quick as you can, Desna willing!"
The Sarenrite Novice turns to ask, "My Lady, Captain Zongnoss, what dangers might we expect on our travels through the Gravelands?"
Her serious tone continues: “Tar-Baphon’s legions are constantly patrolling and are mighty indeed, so I recommend avoiding fights with those troops. Try to identify the paths the undead patrols normally take and travel elsewhere. Covering your tracks would be wise as well. Although I would like you to be as thorough as you can in your investigation, do keep in mind that spending too much time in the Gravelands increases your likelihood of being found, so don’t linger.”
"Milady, is there anything to speed travel to and from GoldenFlame? Is there a map of it? Also," he looks balefully at the sacks "Is there anything ... err ... more voluminous or easier to handle you might provide for this mission?"
To this, Evni shakes her head. “Unfortunately, the Society is stretched thin at this point in time. Goldenflame is not far from here, though, so a round trip by foot should be possible in a single day. And what's more, because of the...” Careful to choose the right word here "Surreptitious nature of this mission, while saving time on overland speed, I think it would add difficulty having to stay out of sight of Tar-Baphon's vast network of scouts having to also care for and conceal additional living creatures such as mounts. But of course, that is your call."
She then indicates to Brayka the map on the long table "This map is for you to take" And rolls a scrollcase over him to roll and retrieve it.
He adds, "And what more can you tell us of Goldenflame College? Could it have been used as an ad hoc fortification by the Pathfinders and other residents who stayed behind?"
"Is there a church or temple in Goldenflame? If so, to which gods or goddesses?"
"I have never been there myself, so I can't tell you much beyond what I have already shared. And because of my unfamiliarity of the area, I am unsure if there are any other religious establishments. I do however have confidence that you will help us make records of any you do come across - especially if you discover other living survivors there? - though I doubt that'll be the case. If I didn't have other business to attend to, I would accompany you. But trust that the Pathfinder Society has deployed our resources proportional to both the time window and the priority of these missions, which is why you were all hand-picked to be summoned here!"
Then he adds "The survivors: If they do not want our escort out, is there a site we can direct them to for support or evacuation?"
"Not that I know of. If they be willing, do bring them back into safety here? That way we can not only ensure that safety, but perhaps learn more about what's going on behind enemy lines, as well as consolidate other information in our records! As such, be on the lookout for any religious texts and historical records—hopefully the troops of Tar-Baphon have overlooked them. You might also find items of cultural or religious significance: things that Goldenflame could be remembered by."
Eventually he turns to the man in the stylish clothing, "How about that breakfast?"
The tuxedoed man returns once more with 5 bowls, serving you each a broth with mixed mushrooms, sprouts, dark leafy greens, and lentils. His nose crinkles as he serves Darg, as the expression upon his face, though he endeavors to suppress it, wordlessly invoking "how dare you!" - as a result, he hands "the Bastard" a second napkin - one on his left side, and another on his right - as if to implicate in silent indignation!
At this, Evni rises - indeed there is no bowl before her setting - and motions as if to leave "Please eat! And if there are any more questions, let's have them: Time is of the essence!"
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...this sounds serious. I didn't think they'd put newbies like us in a situation like this!
Sobered by her thoughts, Ryiah sits down and reads the dossiers over carefully while the other get more information from Evni. As the gnome stands to leave, Ryiah is distracted from her task and asks, "Is there anything we have access to here that might aid us in a battle against undead?"
Evni snorts "Hopefully, if you're sneaky enough, you won't have to resort to fighting them at all!"
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Ryiah recalls that Goldenflame’s chapel functioned as a religious institution and the town hall, so historical records concerning its citizens and events were stored there. Furthermore, it contained a fantastic statue of Iomedae’s servitor Jingh, and many regarded it as the college’s most valuable possession.
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Brayka rolls up the map and places it in the scroll case. He holds it up. "Is anyone a good navigator? I'm not.". He hands it off to . . . (???)
The tuxedoed man sets out the 5 bowls of soup on immaculate place settings, a wonderful accompanying Pinot Gris, a delicate ensemble of fine flatware with mother-of-pearl handles and delicate lace napkins.
"Simply beautiful," admires Brayka . . . who then picks up the bowl and pours the contents straight into his mouth. "A tad heavy on the pepper, otherwise perfect."
As Evni snorts her retort, Brayka looks pointedly at himself, Darg and Nenyath, all clad in heavy armor. He returns his gaze placidly to Evni. "Milady, we will try, but we will not be sneaky enough." He nods to Ryiah. "Ryiah's question is a good one? Or perhaps Darg, you have another thought?"
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Darg raises the bowl of soup to his mouth and takes a long slurping sip. He sets the bowl down, looks at the two nice napkins and grabs them up and tucks them into his furs then wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "Darg can be very quiet, sometimes. Darg is no woodsman, but I will try not to get lost. Darg does not know much about the wilderness..." Darg stops, takes another long slurp of soup. "Darg likes this soup."
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Darg takes a last, long sip of soup and again wipes his mouth on his sleeve. He looks at the gnome, his face serious. "How much time do you think we have to find all twelve of these missing Pathfinders, I mean before we are discovered? Do we not have any contacts or safe havens within that acursed land?"
As if to demonstrate "sneaky", already halfway out the door anyway, Evni seizes a momentary pause in the questioning and excuses herself out. The tuxedoed man begins clearing away bowls, and makes a throaty "Hmm-Hm" sound at least two or three times, cueing the PCs along...
...Still early in the midday, the PCs make to cross the threshold from Caliphas into The Gravelands, eventually coming to a heavily fortified Ustalavic border crossing staffed by Knights of Lastwall. The two guards at the gate, heavily armored and leaning against their Fauchards like third legs, suddenly straighten as you approach. From behind their visors, you can see them examining your party - eyes darting to Darg's sword, Brayka's dogslicer, Ryiah's spellpouch, Nenyath's trident, and Rufous's scrollcases - and shifting their weight into a stance that would support possibly having to move.
As the guard on the left puts both hand more firmly on his polearm, the guard on the right puts his hand forward, palm open, as if to communicate "halt"...
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Brayka > Investigate
Darg > Defend
Nenyath Ravenstar > Defend
"Red" > Search
Ryiah Dorne > Investigate
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"Hello, good sirs," Rufous hollers to the guards and raises a hand in greeting. "We have been given writs of passage into the Gravelands," with his other hand he pulls his travel documents from his belt to display to the watchmen, "and with your kind permission, we would approach to show you our passports."
The guard on the right looks towards the guard on the left, and nods, and the stance of the left guard seems to relax somewhat. Then he flips his visor up "Are you sure you what to go... That Way?" a tone of surprise accompanied by him pointing to the other side of the gate.
The scars on the right guard's face become vaguely visible when he lifts the visor, and his expression is one of grave concern!
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[In the lodge] Seeing no one rise to take the scroll case with the map, Brayka shrugs and stows it on the side of his pack along with his compass. Brayka turns to the butler. "You are a person entrusted with the decorum of your station. I think you need to ask yourself, is your demeanor conveying the hospitality you have been asked to present? If you want to talk, or someone to just listen, I hope to be back in a few days. May your life be as free as your taps.". With that, the little goblin waves himself out . . .
[In Caliphas] "Pardon, friends, stealth or no, there is a purchase I should make for both my speed and load bearing capability.". Brayka rejoins the group on the way out of town, mounted on a magnificent and massive Akita-breed riding dog. Its ginger-yellow ruff stirs in the wind and the pink tongue lolls with heart and warmth to rival Brayka's. Brayka and "Plum" are adjusting to both their tack and each other, but Brayka obviously is no stranger to riding canines . "Last I rode was bareback on wolves in the Pits of Geb. This feels much better."
[Traveling to the Gate] Brayka and Plum get used to each other, racing ahead and behind the party to scout while in the relative safety of the rolling hills around Caliphas. (Exploration Mode: Scout)
[At the Gate] Brayka presents the papers. After Ryiah, Red and Darg's exchanges, Brayka adds: "Any word on what we might find, and do you know the way to GoldenFlame? I don't think we have time to toast your assistance, but I could leave a few coin for you gents for after your shift." He unrolls the map and waggles his eyebrows hopefully.
If needed:
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Rufous turns to his companions as they approach the gate. "Once we are on the other side and into the Gravelands, we should make sure we are effectively working together for the success of this mission."
"Ryiah, my friend, you and Darg will by our eyes on the ground. Keep a look out, in particular for any signs of missing Pathfinders or other clues."
"Brakya and I will scout ahead and behind to make sure we aren't ambushed. Our darkvision should prove useful in that respect."
"Nenyath, can you cover our tracks to make certain we are not easily followed? It is best to keep our secret mission... secret."
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Ryiah looks at Red just a little too long before responding. She doesn't have to listen to him. None of them are technically in charge. However, she has to admit that his plan is sound. She nods once and starts to scan ahead of her for any notable signs of activity or other possible indicators of friend or for.
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Brayka nods readily enough. “Plum and I can ride ahead a bit to make sure nothing untoward is on the road. Watch yourself on the rearguard, Red, you sport more weapons than I’d expect but I’d hate for you to be the front line. Though I’ve been wrong before, I’ve drawn swords besides a very valiant bard once.”
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"Well that seems settled Captain - with luck it will not be our time to join the River upon Pharasma's spiral." He responds, tapping the ritualistic Athame belted on their hip and giving a short prayer to the Lady of Graves. "See you soon with hopefully friends in tow." He then takes some time to savour the soup, as it may be the last warm meal for a day or so. Nodding to the rude butler in appreciation of at least a pleasant breakfast they stretch before setting off to the 'Gravelands'.
"I am happy to take up the rear position and cover tracks, I will defend us in case of ambush too." they agree with Red, keeping their shield ready on their arm, but their Sword sheathed as they approach the once great nation of Lastwall.
Stopping as instructed he lets his allies keep talking to the guards as he surveys the gatehouse. "It is as my allies say, we have a task to complete - on my honour as a Sentry we have no nefarious intentions" they say once they are closer and no longer shouting. "Pray tell, is there any recent developments we should be aware of?"
Home sweet Home...
The right guard doesn't look at the papers, instead you see him trying to read whether you are serious about going "That Way" and perhaps whether you are under some unnatural compulsion. He seems to decide you are serious (and acting under free will) and stands aside to allow passage. The left guard follows suit, and starts on the winch, mechanically lifting the mighty doors open with a slow but firm grind. You see several scouts on the upper wall peering in the direction any threat may spring from on the other side, crossbows at the ready. As the doors slowly open, having listened to your questions, he offers:
"I don't know what your business is, but my advice would be not to linger. Tar-Baphon has thousands of organized troops marching up and down every road of the land across these borders. In truth:" Now he peers at Brayka's mount, as well as all the heavy armors the party wears "I don't imagine it wouldn't be only a matter of time before you are caught: Indeed, there is increased activity during the night! But even during the day, The Whispering Tyrant employs a network of spies on- and off- roads, so be weary, Ever Vigilant!" trying to add a tone of hopefulness to his warning.
To Brayka's question, he confirms what the map says about the location of GoldenFlame Chapel. To Nenyath's, he reports what seems to be an unrelated event - a Spy who had climbed the wall, turned one of his guards into an undead, and the two of them managing to kill a couple more guards before being put down once more decisively - pointing to a fresh collection of wooden headstones not 200 feet off - but otherwise unrelated to the party's mission at-hand.
It is then that the doors finish slowly swinging open, and the guard bids the party farewell, adding "I hope to see you back by dusk!" that the process is reversed, and the border is re-secured with the closing on the gates.
And it is in this moment that the gravity of the situation dawns on you - you are
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Brayka > Scout
Darg > Avoid Notice
Nenyath Ravenstar > Defend
Rufous Redfire > Scout
Ryiah Dorne > Investigate
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As the sun crosses over the top of the sky, heading towards the horizon, Brayka and Rufous take turns riding or striding ahead of and behind the party, while Ryiah keeps her eyes peeled next to Nenyath standing ready in anticipation of ambush, and Darg ranging off to the side doing his best to remain hidden from potential dangers.
The party travels for some time, and the terrain begins to ascend slightly, and ahead, you can see a Hill protruding from the scorched earth near a ruined Village, as the main road begins to veer widely around the Hill - possibly for miles - while the rocky and loose dirt and shrubbery of the Hill itself make it seem somewhat inhospitable, sharp and shallow inclines alternating with steady elevation. The Village looks burned to the ground - every last structure and building - it's remnants so many ashen marks, as Nenyath has a horrifying realization .
But then you realize it is only Darg, who returns with something to report .
You realize the villagers probably razed the village themselves, likely because nearly all of it's residents were killed and/or turned, a practice you know to be widespread in the times during which The Whispering Tyrant swiftly seized control of the nation!
You see what you believe to be a "shortcut" up the Hill, and think that between that, and going the Long Way around the Road, it might be worth sharing your finding with the party, so you can all properly decide how to proceed.
Looking down at your map, you can confirm what he suspects!
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Darg looks at the hill, "The hill would give us a good view of the surrounding area. It might let us spot the unead or some other area of interest." Darg tugs at his beard for a second in thought, "Of course, the undead might think that too, and we might find an unwelcome suprise waiting for us, but I am not sure I want to stay too near the road."
Darg looks at the smoldering town, "Do we need to search the town? Do we think we might find evidence of any of our missing pathfinders there?"
Darg pats his backpack, "I am a decent climber and I have rope if that helps."
He looks at the others, waiting to see what they have to say.
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Nenyath stops atop the Hill and pauses for a moment to survey the scene below them, before sighing and shaking their head sadly. "This village was burnt down by those that once called it home - an all to common practice in days following the Tyrant's rise. Likely, many of the villagers were turned and the survivors burnt it to the ground before leaving - I doubt anyone living would be there."
Drawing his rune etched blade from it's grey leather scabbard, Nenyath rolls their neck and shoulders. "Yes, it would be best to stay close now - I am happy for Darg to lead they way if they feel confident?"