As a relatively new member of the Pathfinder Society, the organization's leadership has decided you could use some additional field training before being assigned more challenging missions. To that end, you've been asked to report to the small town of Kassen in Nirmatha's Fangwood Forest. There, an experienced Pathfinder agent (operating undercover) named Cygar Anravis will give you the details of your mission. He's to meet you at the Seven Silvers end upon your arrival in Kassen.
Fangwood Forest is bisected by the Tourondel River, and it's on a small riverboat that you meet the other inexperienced Pathfinders assigned on the same mission. The winter winds are just beginning to blow, heralding the promise of adventure.
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A tall human man in a red robe approaches, his brown hair and facial features are well chiseled, if not particularly memorable, though he does have an excellently ornate mustachio which he adjusts as he settles in surveying the others who have joined him.
"Greetings, friends, associates, customers!" he pauses for a minute, finishing adjusting his mustachio, "I am Surely MacGinney, witch, Pathfinder, and tobacconist by trade."
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Another robed figure sits idle on the boat. In contrast to Surely's garment, hers is a deep blue, and covers almost her entire body. The only skin visible is her hands and a coiling tail. Both are a faint green, evocative of but definitely not the same as a half-orc. Her face is likewise covered by a bronze mask.
She seems relaxed enough to talk more upon realizing everyone present is a Pathfinder. "It is good to meet you. I am called Uaine, so you know." She pronounces the odd name, 'When-Yay.'
"You wouldn't happen to be as in the dark about our task as I am? I'm sure we'll be filled in, but if we knew any more now..."
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"Even in the dark, much wisdom can be found," Replies a tall, dark, and handsome man in a gentle but steely voice - well, he would be handsome, fit as a fiddle with refined Tian features, were his appearance not better described as...ominous. His eyes glow an unholy red, his skin is studded in eldritch patterns with myriad metallic spikes, and a mysterious length of dark, spiky chain can be seen snaking across his his dark, sturdy clothing and armor and about his fearsome and exotic panoply of weapons, as though it were alive. Incongruous indeed, then, is the lovingly-crafted shinobue flute he holds in hid hand, and the beautiful silver icon, in the shape of a crescent moon and inlaid with jade, hanging heavily from his forearm from a fine, shiny silver chain.
"Likewise, I am pleased to meet the both of you. I am Ao Shoku, sacred servant to Lord Tsukiyo."
As he looks over to Surely, the disturbing length of chain briefly crawls right across Ao's spotless upper lip, twisting and bristling as if in imitation of Surely's remarkable mustache.
"Stop that," He says in a soft but firm tone as he swats the chain back down to its customary patrol route among his arms and armor.
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T'Shar was something exotic on his own: the ifrit had yellow-red hair, which seemed almost to be actual open flames. He was using an equally exotic armor, but carried only a spear on his back, a bandolier of darts and some other few possessions.
Nice to meet you all! - finally he speaks in a more cheerful way - Name's T'Shar. A pleasure to be here.
As he completes, he smiles - and on the fiery way he does it, people around start doubting if it's a good idea to have a pyromaniac sailing in a boat.
It's a chilly morning as the riverboat's captain ties it up along the shore of a small hamlet along the river. This must be Kassen, a collection of perhaps three dozen buildings surrounded by a wooden stockade. Near the town, on either side of the river, you can see the trees of Fangwood Forest and some land cleared for farming.
As you unload your gear, the riverboat captain helpfully points out the Seven Silvers inn and wishes you a good stay. The inn is a comfortable-looking, two-story affair. When you enter the otherwise-empty taproom, a man sitting in the corner immediately motions you over. Dressed in dark colors and wearing a hood even indoors, he looks you over skeptically before speaking in a harsh whisper.
"You must be the new recruits. Name's Cygar. The locals don't know about the Society, and I'd rather they didn't until we know who we can trust. So if anyone asks, you're just adventurers or treasure-seekers who heard about the harvest ritual. You took your time getting here. Be at the town square at midday tomorrow, and when the mayor asks for volunteers, you'll say yes. If you've got a burning question, ask me now, but chances are I'll tell you the answer is part of your training." The strange, scarred man settles back in his chair.
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Uaine takes a moment to digest. "So, this process calls for volunteers. What happens if there are others? Do we band together, dispute their claim, engage in a mock fight to receive whatever honor this is?" She chuckles a bit at the last suggestion, but doesn't look to be discounting it.
"I'm curious about what we're to do, but as you've said, we will find out soon. My thanks for this opportunity."
Cygar replies, "If there are other potential volunteers for the ritual, they'll likely keep quiet once they see you step forward immediately. Tieflings and ifrits are rare in these parts, and they'll likely be intimidated. But nonetheless, if they do put their hands up, you might have some company in the ritual. That's okay."
Cygar replies, "The mayor will explain the ritual tomorrow. You'll be given what you need to succeed, and I expect you'll do fine--it's not really dangerous, but will test your wilderness and spelunking skills."
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"'Spe...lunhk..ingu?'" Ao echoes with a bewildered expression. "Good Heavens, my Taldane is not that good yet!" Even as he speaks, the chain crawling about him starts rifling through his things until it dredges up a tight bundle of scrolls on cheap paper, which Ao takes and starts hurriedly poring over - those in a position to do so can see the scrolls' contents consist of two parallel columns of text, one in Tien and the other in Taldane. He pauses after a bit, staring with widened eyes at the passage he's found, and replies slowly.
"'Do you want...do. You. WAAANT...to come back to my place? Bouncy-bouncy!'"
He looks up at Cygar with as earnest and innocent an expression as it is possible for someone with glowing red eyes to make.
Cygar is obviously a very serious person, but the slightest hint of a grin is visible as he listens to Ao fumble with Taldane. He looks over at Uaine. "I've got a room, but you're on your own. Prices are cheap here though. I'm sure Trelvar will wander in soon and can you ask him. I guess that's it then. Good luck. If you make it back, I'll know the Grand Lodge sent me a crew worth a spit, and I'll have something more serious ready for you. If you don't make it back . . . well, that's what tests are for." With that, the hooded man nods and heads up a nearby staircase.
A few moments later, a portly man wearing an apron comes in from a back room. He looks surprised to see you. "Oh, welcome to the Seven Silvers! Must've come in for the festival. I'm Trelvar. Are you after rooms or a meal?"
The prices at the Seven Silvers seem quite affordable as the reason for the inn's name becomes clear: rooms are four silver pieces each, and a day's meals just three silver pieces more. Trelvar brightens as he hears Steppingwolf and Ao play a tune.
Before long, locals start filtering in for lunch. Trelvar's daughter Asina, a girl barely in her teens, starts bringing out plates of food while collecting and spreading rumors in equal measure. "I hope you're not here for the harvest ritual!" she whispers with wide eyes. "I hear someone's died during it for ten years in a row!"
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Uaine chips in for a room without complaint. She also pays for a part of the meals, but doesn't request any food yet.
"Quite the rumor, Asina. If it's true to any degree, this ritual must be worth the effort." She keeps her head down while talking to the youth. "But don't worry for my sake, I'm hard to kill. Do you know anything else about it?"
The tiefling notes some interesting talk several tables down, though she waits for Asina's spiel before following up on it.
Asina replies in a whisper, "Well, da says I can't go on the ritual 'till I'm of age, so it sure must be dangerous! I remember last year folks were gone for a week. I think. It was a while ago." She stares at Uaine closely, saying without malice "You sure are strange looking!"
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Uaine smiles, then, remembering she can't be seen behind the mask, forces a chuckle to convey the feeling. "Oh, I'd be much more so without this. I won't be taking it off in polite company." The tiefling slides a few coppers to the girl. "Do your father a favor and stay safe. It's a surprising luxury."
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Steppinwolf also looks at Asina
I'm sure you pa wants you to enjoy your childhood before you come of age. And there are a lot of strange beings out there, I agree. But many of those are good people. Never judge by looks. I remember meeting someone who looked like an Irrisian Ice Witch ... but she wasn't evil by nature.
Asina hurriedly pockets the proffered copper, and nods at everyone. "Thanks! Be seeing you." She hurries off to help some of the other tables, no doubt spreading further tales.
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T'Shar was on his usual blase attitude, distracted on his own lust and poorly paying attention to what was being said. If he was worried about their safety, he surely wasn't showing. As Asina left, he looked at his companions.
Sure it will be dangerous, but you only live once, right? - he said, thoughtlessly.
The rest of the day and night passes quickly in the comfort of the Seven Silvers.
The next day, you all assemble in the town square as the bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful.
After a few moments, a murmured "here comes Mayor Uptal!" passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let someone through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern, and behind him an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.
Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk: “Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”
It looks like a few others in the crowd were about to step forward, but seeing you do so, they change their minds--just as Cygar predicted.
Mayor Uptal nods solemnly at each of you in turn and then says "And which of you shall carry the lantern to bring the founder's flame back to Kassen?"
Mayor Uptal hands Steppinwolf the tarnished silver lantern, and then proceeds to hands each of the volunteers a backpack.
In addition, spread among the backpacks are 50’ of hempen rope, tinder and three tindertwigs, a labelled potion of cure light wounds, three torches, a grappling hook, and a small bottle of local brandy.
The mayor once again speaks to the townfolk: “I present to you the brave heroes who will follow in Kassen’s footsteps to retrieve the Everflame! Some of them may not return, but I say to you that their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. Go, brave heroes, and do not return until you have the eternal fire.”
With that, he points to the south, the direction of Kassen’s tomb. The townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces . . .
After about two hours of travel, the narrow path winds through the raking claws of the trees, now bereft of their leaves, which crunch loudly underfoot. Up ahead, a fallen tree trunk blocks the path.
Suddenly a trio of snarling humanoids leaps up from behind the log, all greenish skin and fearsome tusks, bellowing vulgar challenges! Orcs!
Initiative (Round 1)
Steppinwolf
Ao
Surely
T'Shar
Uaine
Orcs
Bold may go!