Each of you are awakened abruptly from your rest before the morning sun has breached the horizon and summoned to the office of Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin. As you arrive, you are shown directly into his private office where he and Zarta Dralneen are examining a list of items.
Ambrus Valsin seems deep in thought, a common appearance for the stoic Steward of Absalom’s Grand Lodge. “Most of you know Zarta Dralneen, I assume?” Valsin begins, nodding to the woman. “She’s recently accepted an appointment as head archivist of the Grand Lodge, so you’ll understand her interest in this assignment shortly.”
The venture-captain gestures to a map of Absalom and then the Isle of Kortos hanging on the wall behind his desk. “You’re heading to Otari, along the southern coast between here and Diobel. One of our transport vessels, a barque called Durvin’s Query, foundered just outside the harbor there a few days ago. It was laden with the artifacts collected from a site in the Mwangi Expanse. The Pathfinders returning on the ship collected the most valuable cargo but were forced to leave the rest. They made their way to Otari and sent word of their misfortunes to the Grand Lodge. Based on their report, I need you to go, pick up the material immediately, and bring it back safely to the Grand Lodge.”
Zarta Dralneen smoothly takes up the narrative. “Of course, it’s not quite as simple as that,” she smiles. “The team aboard Durvin’s Query encountered a sequence of extremely . . . unusual events as they returned home. Bad luck plagued them the entire trip, and they ran into more than the usual number of oceanic hazards. I suspect that something they picked up in the Expanse was the source of their extreme bad luck, and I’m eager to find out just what it is.”
Valsin slides a weather-stained list across his desk. “As you may know, salvage belongs to the finder, and so we couldn’t just leave the items in the shipwreck for anyone to find. I’ve already contacted an old friend in Otari, a former Pathfinder by the name of Khoumrock Blackthane, to be your advance agent. Khoumrock’s team has gone to the wreck site to collect everything that was left behind—here’s the list. By the time you arrive in Otari, he’ll have it fully packed for you. You’ll be sailing there for speed, but given the experience the previous team had at sea, we feel the safest method of transport back is overland, through the Immenwood and along the High Coast Road.”
Valsin’s face turns grim. “Now, I know this might sound like a less-than-glamorous assignment, playing caravan guard for a couple of days, but it’s important. That material came from an important site, and the string of bad luck the original team had means there’s something in there that isn’t what it seems. Be on your guard, and make sure nothing goes missing on the way back. Any questions?”
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A practically-naked Iruxi is rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he attends the meeting, dressed only in a loincloth.
"With all that bad luck, do you think something might be cursed? Any obviously magical items among them?" His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Did we piss off some deity again? Where did those Pathfinders 'find' these artifacts exactly? And what happened to them during the trip?"
He thinks for a moment, then his face lights up. "Say we find out which item is causing this bad luck. Can we leave it behind? That'd solve all our problems."
He then turns to the others. "Hi, my name is Thrass. Please tell me if my lack of clothes is bothering you. I don't really get the whole 'modesty' thing. There really isn't anything interesting below this cloth, but people tend to give me weird looks if I don't wear it."
Ambrus replies, "The original team was exploring an ancient temple to Gozreh, the Wind and Waves. They stumbled across it while exploring south of the Sodden Lands and the Eye of Abendego. It may be related to a splinter sect of Gozren faith known as the Storm Kindlers. They’ve caused trouble recently in Pridon’s Folly south of Sargava, so we’d like to know more about them."
Zarta's eyes widen for a moment and then she says with a frown, "No, you shouldn't just 'leave it behind.' Eando gives me enough grief as it is."
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"Sounds simple enough but when cursed items are involved, I'm sure it will be interesting. Hello all, I'm Zallarra!"
The cutest little gnome ever stands in front of you. She stands an amazing 3'2" and wears comfortable traveling clothes under a large dark crimson hooded cloak. She has dark blue hair, very pale toned skin, almost yellow and bright, large jade green eyes. Other than the large spear she is carrying and possibly a dagger you see no other weapons on her.
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Following along with the debrief at the back of the group is a lithe, young elven woman with a fur-lined cloak, heavier than one expects in these parts. She has a pack over one shoulder and a longbow over the other and they both drop down in a fluid motion as she discards the thick coat, as if squarely completing the transition from a much colder place. Underneath is nondescript hide and breeches of earthy tones. Her complexion is overly pale, even for an elf. Most interestingly, an intricate pattern of tattoos can now be seen reaching from her forearms to just where her hands meet her wrists. Sleeves hide where they begin. Her blond hair is always tied back and out of her way.
She moves very deliberately and swiftly, while her at-rest stance is of someone about to break into a sprint. She's always "on her toes."
Speaking up from the back, she asks Can you say more about this strange experience the Pathfinders had at sea? What were these, "unusual events?"
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Behind the two pretty ladies follows a stout (as far as goblins go) and relatively not strange looking goblin man. He hollers at someone outside, shaking a fist at them, then quickly closing the door behind him as he enters. "Why everyone wanting Flikk to give them money for nothing? Directions not cost money sheesh!"
He smiles and moves into the group, bumping his way to the front to see exactly what's going on, squinting a bit as he tries to read Ambrus's notes since he missed the opening description. He's wearing hide armor with a short bow across his back.
"Hiya, I'm Flikk." He addresses the two VCs first, followed by head nods or handshakes to the rest of the Pathfinders. "So, we're going on a boat ride yes?" He tries to remember what he's heard about Otari and this Gozreh character.
Ambrus counts off the occurrences on his fingers. “Unfavorable winds. Constant storms. Hull covered with barnacles--repeatedly. Struck by lightning--repeatedly. Clots of seaweed that blocked passage. The crew also had to make several detours to avoid sea creatures of unusual size. The team now has the dubious distinction of providing the first confirmed sighting of a kraken this close to Absalom in almost two decades.”
Gozreh is a two-fold deity: god of wind and storms and goddess of wave and surf.
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Jei'Balt enters haphazardly, brushing down his simple tunic with both hands hoping to make a better example going forward. "Sorry Lodgemaster I am late did not receive word of travel till soon before. I will try do better next time."
The mottled red kobold was larger than average and wore simple linen clothing underneath his armor. Extra padding sat under the old scale-mail armor that rested on his shoulders. It looked like it had been refitted to someone of his stature. He wore a bastard sword on his hip that dragged slightly on the ground as well as a dented steel kite shield that covered the entirety of his back. Keen eyes would notice a dagger strapped to the side of his tail in it's sheath. "First outing with Society, much excitement in my bones ready to aid wherever possible Yes-yes! I am Jei'Balt warrior-strong of Horizon Hunters, good friends to meet we have success on mission if stick together."
He took a moment to get up to speed and listened closely trying to figure out if any of his studies had mentioned Otari, Gozreh, or if any of his less than reputable contacts had heard rumors on the artifacts being moved.
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"That some real bad luck. Why is Flikk thinking they are going to have really bad luck once they get to the wine town and meet this Blackthane..." He grimaces a bit but cheers up after some thought. Must be worth lots of good golds if such a dangerous mission! Flikk be rich soon enough!
"Flikk take job, we guard wagons from stupid bandits that don't know better." He shakes his fist angrily in the air to make his point.
Zarta interjects once more, having recovered from her fluster. “There were no items that the team identified as clearly magical. It’s possible that some of the items taken from the site may have residual power that is attracting natural forces. There may be something in the material that carries an unfriendly effect, perhaps even a curse. The team may have done something to anger Gozreh directly. Or it could have been nothing more than coincidence—an extended string of coincidences, all related to the wind and waves, occurring to the same team on their way back from excavating an abandoned Gozren temple.” Zarta’s raised eyebrow indicates what she thinks of the “coincidence” theory.
"This is a list of the items recovered," Ambrus says and hands you the list that he and Zarta were examining earlier.
You know that Otari is on the island of Kortos but that's about it.
Gozreh is the Wind and the Waves, a dualistic entity that embodies the peaceful breeze as well as nature’s fury. Gozren priests often use the natural environment as weapon or shield, and they summon aquatic monsters to do their bidding.
Aspis Consortium, a rival group that seeks profit at any cost, has been active in the area.
"Unless there are any additional questions, make your final preparations and embark. And, yes, a boat ride," the Venture-Captain says.
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A disheveled looking young elf abruptly enters the chamber. Clad in loose fitting clothes and leather vest, he hardly appears to be an adventurer. He wears a simple dagger at his side, and has a small pack over his shoulder with a small stringed instrument strapped to it. He quickly passes his hand through his golden hair in an attempt to appear more composed.
"My apologies everyone! It was not my intention to be so tardy. Unfortunately I slept in later than intended, and may have gotten a little lost. Nevertheless, I have caught the tail end of the briefing and am quite excited! An actual adventure! I only have some experience in these matters, but I hope I can be of use. Ohh, I forgot to introduce myself, my name is Kormei"
He quickly pats down his pockets and checks to see if his meager dagger is still in its sheath.
"I appear to have everything in order, and am prepared to depart!"
You board a gaff-rigged sloop for what should be a four hour trip along the coast, but the water is choppy and the winds erratic today. The closer you get to Otari, the rougher the water becomes and the winds grow in strength and wildness. You are tossed side to side and pitched up and down with increasing frequency and erraticness.
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The elf scout boards the ship warily. An archer tends to enjoy the option to set their feet at some point before the shot...
But hey, what is there to shoot at on a voyage? Having steeled herself for the reality she finds it easier than she suspected to acclimate to, and even enjoy. On the other hand...
I wonder if we're experiencing some of that "curse" as well... she muses out loud to the others.
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Kormei leans up on mast of the small sloop and clutches at the rigging with a white-knuckled grip. He frantically looks around at the others who are likely handling the harsh waters much better than he is.
Kormei's fair face grows a shade of green as he closes his eyes and grits his teeth.
Pull it together Kormei! Don't embarrass yourself in front of your new companions! Not again!
"Umm.. Friends. I think..."
He fails to say anything further as he stumbles to the edge of the ship and expels his lunch into the churning water below.
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Flikk boards the ship, looking excited and ready for the new adventure. He's clutching a bundle of small needled saplings in one hand as the other holds the port railing. "This new job going to be real good friends. Flikk make a great wagon guard, you see."
His optimism starts to wane though once the weather gets rough. His sea legs are slow to arrive, while his considerable breakfast shows up a bit early. He sprays the deck with gallons and gallons of all manner of vomit. Some don't even look completely edible. "Flikk starting to change mind, we almost there yet?" His seedlings aren't looking so good after the last spray of chum.
Jei'Balt fares not better than Zallara. The four suffer the entire voyage, which is prolonged by the storm and rough sea, and the four hour trip becomes a nearly twelve hour ordeal. However, you do make it to port in Otari whole if not hale. Kormei, Flikk, Zallarra, and Jei'Balt all feel like the ground under them is shifting and moving even though they know they're on solid ground.
Waiting on the docks for you is a salty old dwarf with a nose reddened by years at sea (and perhaps a drink too many) who looks like he’s had little sleep in the past few days. His armor appears to be a suit of full plate heavily modified and integrated with a mechanical diving suit. He leads you to the Thirsty Alphaca.
Khoumrock speaks with an accent somewhere between a south-Absalom brogue and a sailor’s worldly clip. He swirls the dregs of a mug of beer as he tells his tale. “When Ambrus called me, I got a few friends an’ went right out to the wreck. We gathered everythin’ we could find. The storm already dashed the hulk again’ the rocks and broken her open, but most o’ the crates were washed ashore. I dove in to make sure she weren’t leaking any cargo, but the waves were rough and things were movin’ down that weren’t just the water and fishies!” He frowns as he recalls the night’s efforts.
“The sky opened up as soon as we started packin’. The horses were half-mad wit’ the lightnin’ and the wind. It took all o’ night and part o’ the morning to collect everythin’, and we nearly lost the wagon to a big wave what came a-crashin’ onto the shore from out of no’ere. The storm followed us all t’way back to town. So did summat else – as we got t’the town gate, we saw summat long and snakish breakin’ the waves out in the harbor. I didn’t get a good look, ‘cause the watchtower was struck by lightnin’ just then and it blinded me for a tick. When I looked back, it were gone.” Khoumrock looks to the ceiling in thought. “Apparently, we lost a fisherman out towards the docks right thenabouts. Coulda been an accident, but I knows better.” Khoumrock shakes his head again. “Might be time for me to do a little divin’ out thar, clean things out, ya know?”
“Well, the wagon’s all packed and ready to go by t’stable. S’easy enough to drive, or you can hire a teamster, iff’n you’d prefer. Good luck. I’ll be glad to see that wagon roll out o’ town, truth be told.”
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Jei'Balt spends much of his time aboard the vessel glued to the side, "Fishes taste good, but the place they come from not helping belly. Hurk-" The kobold expels his breakfast over the side, not nearly as much as the goblin before him. "Hope it's not many hours to arrival?"
Upon reaching the docks Jei nearly falls to the ground his apparent low center of mass not aiding him much as he questions kissing the very earth. When escorted to the Thirsty Alphaca he holds on for dear life to the nearest chair groaning softly at the scents of the ale and food. "Are we s-sure about taking trinkets to Absalom.. is coast city after all, sewers will flood again. Also maybe we wait till belly settle yes? World feel like wiggly jelly under feet."
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In the Thirsty Alpaca, Thrass feels sorry for the sick people, but isn't quite sure how to show it. He pats everyone on the back gently, and holds a bucket ready.
"Yeah, Jei'Balt makes sense, shouldn't we go further inland? It might delay us some, but avoiding the coast seems wise. Taunting Gozreh right in front of his domain seems... foolish."
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Endra tries to take point on land, with the others being sick and all. It sounds like they have their work cut out for them.
Khoumrock, did anybody else report seeing this snake-like creature that you saw? Anybody that we could talk to and gather more clues from? We're as eager as you are to get this wagon back to Absalom where the experts can figure out what is causing the problems, and contain it.
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Even though Flikk is pretty pathetic with his sea sickness, apparently his temper gets the best of him when it comes to the cause of his distress. "Flikk hate boats! No more boats for Flikk! BLuuuuuRGGGGgggg!" After about twelve hours the list of things Flikk hates includes basically everything besides dry land, fire, and pickles.
He drags himself on shore, laying on the ground as the world spins and rocks, only half listening to the Dwarf in the crazy underwater armor. "Where you get that neat metal suit? Does it keep the ground still and the belly full?"
"Nobody but us," Khoumrock answers Endra. "The bad luck was followin' us back to Otari." As if to punctuate his point, a frog hops onto the table and croaks. "If you want to sit around with that kind o' luck longer by takin' the longer roads through the Immenwoods, I'm no gonna chide you, but yer Venture-Captains picked the fastest road."
He largely ignores Flikk's questions. "Yer here. Yer to take the relics back to Absalom. Otari no need to suffer longer 'cause yer bellies canna handle the sea."
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Thrass tries to maintain eye contact with the frog. You're not sure if he's trying to communicate with it, trying to scare it off, or simply intrigued. Without breaking eye contact, he says, "Well, I guess the Captain knows best. Short route it is, then. Is anyone planning on doing something about the frog, or shall I..." his voice trails off at the end.
The frog hops onto Thrass' face. "Rib-it!"
You open the door of the Thirsty Alpaca to leave--whether to canvass the town or ready the wagon--and another frog hops inside from the rain. "Rib-it!" A second one hops across the light cast upon the porch.
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Flikk makes his way to his feat, nodding in defeat to the robo-Dwarf's words. "Flikk drive wagon... er, did you say horses?" Flikk looks about, nervously. "Flikk not drive wagon." He concludes. "Someone else drive or we pay poor soul to get bit by those monsters?"
"This place have frogs like swamp."
As you head outside, you find the weather has worsened. The rain pelts down harder, and the wind whips more violently. Everyone besides Jei'Balt, who is probably distracted by the unnatural movements of the world under his feet, notice there are a lot of frogs in the grass and along the road.
Flikk figures that the weather may have driven them out of their usual habitat, but there still seem to be a greater than normal number of frogs for an area this small.
The croaking becomes louder as you prepare the wagon for departure. The frogs look to have doubled in number, though it is hard to tell with all the hopping about. You frequently feel soft thuds against your legs as hopping frogs collide with you. A frog periodically jumps onto the wagon, sticking to the side of the waxed tarp that covers the back portion.
A bullfrog hops onto Flikk's shoulder, staring at his face and slowly croaks, "Coooo-roak!"
Endra lands atop a frog and slips, momentarily losing her balance. The crushed frog limps away.
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The two frogs in the tavern were amusing, but the enormous quantity of them outside are definitely off-putting. At first, Thrass gently nudges the frogs out of the way with his foot as he is packing the wagon, but near the end he's kicking them away hard enough that they'll fly half a metre through the air before landing. He obviously has no sympathy for the small things, but he's still careful to not seriously harm or kill any of them.
"Is it just me, or are these things specifically sticking to the wagon? If that's Gozreh's curse, I'm not impressed. They're more of a nuisance than a plague. On the plus side, looks like we won't be going hungry during our trip."
As if to prove Thrass wrong, when Jei'Balt turns, he sees the kobold's pack bears three adherent frogs. Suddenly, several dozen frogs boil out of the flooded fountain in front of the Thirsty Alpaca. Thrass and Zallarra turn to look, but the rest see several large groups of frogs converge on the road and begin leaping together toward the horses and the wagon.
Encounter! Round 1. Bold may act.
Kormei (sickened 1)
Endra
Flikk[b/] (sickened 1)
[b]Jei'Balt (sickened 1)
Red Swarm of a Thousand Frogs
Thrass
Zallara
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Kormei backs up against the cart as the swarm of frogs erupts near them. With panic clear on his face, he scrambled to pull his lute from his pack.
With his instrument in hand, he smiles as the comforting familiarity of his instrument helps calm his mind.
With a few plucks of the strings the music washes over his companions. It starts slow, but quickly crescendos into an inspirational melody
"Friends, we may have a situation out here! To be honest, I was never that fond of frogs!"