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They say that drawing your nightmares will make them go away. Pai kept repeating that to herself as she meticulously carved the wooden sculpture of a ghoul glancing up from reading an ancient tome at an altar, to be set into an separately-carved backdrop of a grove of necromantic trees within an underground cavern. It became a mantra, her mind ruminating on it with each pass of her blade, each scrape of sandpaper, each sweep of dust. Now that the piece is finished and assembled, an excruciatingly terrifying moment caught in exquisite detail, she is thoroughly convinced that saying is complete hogwash. Each night, she awakens in a sweat from the same nightmare: No matter what she intends to carve, it always ends up replicating this scene. Then it comes to life and the ghoul attacks her. Somehow, it's able to leap into the air where she is flying, bite into her, and drag her down to the ground, where she turns into a ghoul as well.
On this day, she finally got rid of that cursed sculpture. A messenger had come with a summons from the Pathfinder Society, and had remarked on her work. "Here! Take it! It creeps me out!" She shoved it into their hands and shooed them out with it, breathing a sigh of relief. Okay. New chapter. New mission, right? Get my mind off things. Tearing open the note, she scans it, then immediately packs up to leave.
Keeping busy is the key, so your mind doesn't wander to unpleasant things. Along the way, Pai sketches the people she meets and scenery she passes. She chatters about every other subject in the world to anyone who'll listen. Always in motion, always full of energy.
On the last day of her journey, she shoulders her haversack and soars into the sky, reveling in the feeling of the wind ruffling her short, fiery orange hair. She continues flying high until she reaches the edge of the Army of Exploration Camp. Lowering herself to eye level for most tall folk, she checks in with the guards and zooms along toward the command tent once cleared. "Hah! First one here!" ... Now what? Determined to stay busy, Pai pulls out her sketchpad and charcoal again. She bides her time waiting for whatever's next by drawing each person and vantage point she can in minute detail.
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Floria rides quickly through the camp when she gets word of another important mission. Having just led the Taldan Army of Exploration in a massive battle against the forces of the Worldwound, where she herself blew the Horn of Aroden to rally the Taldan horse, she is well known around camp. She nods sternly as various soldiers salute her but doesn't stop until she's at the command tent.
Tying up her horse outside, she sweeps into the tent her head held high. She is dressed in a finely tailored uniform of the Taldan army, and she wears no fewer than three Mendevian Commendations, pinned on her lapel by Queen Galifrey herself. She's about 5'2" and wears leather gloves and sensible shoes.
She's all business, holding herself upright as she enters expecting to see a general and exchange formal pleasantries, but she relaxes as soon as she sees Pai.
"Pai?"
She rushes over to embrace the exuberant gnome with whom she recently travelled in time.
"This must be a serious mission if they've got you here. Any idea what's up? The fighting is almost done as I've heard it so I don't know what it could be"
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One of the guards, clad in a heavy robe, pulls up the visor on their face mask.
"Second one, Pai," Tsuan beams. She steps off the blocks that she's been standing on, reverting to her usual height. She quickly ditches the robes and helmets as real guards approach.
Wearing a peasant's outfit, she walks over to Pai and Floria with a big grin on her face, pulling out an apple out of a ratty old sack, and munching loudly. This far from Absalom, nobody was around to glare disapprovingly at her backsliding on her etiquette.
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Noke is a small Wayang woman with shadowy long hair that almost darkens her surroundings. She has a mithral buckler in her hand and wears a custom-fit Haramaki suit that looks like it has been recently oiled.
Resting on top of her chest, an amulet showing the holy symbol of Chaldira Zuzaristan is visible.
Noke is sitting on a military saddle on top of a riding dog that looks like a mixture of a black wolfhound and a mastiff. It is clear that this dog can fight while carrying a rider and Noke is not really fully in control.
On Noke's shoulder you see a tiny horned lizard that has dark black scales which in some areas have a red coloring that curiously forms the holy symbol of Chaldira and glows.
Noke, her riding dog 'Happu' and her tiny horned lizard familiar 'Divune' enter and you see that Noke is somehow almost out of breath.
"Divune, Happu and I are here to support you and bring luck into your lives ... if destiny allows! We just returned from Hell! Yes, you heard right! Hell! To be concrete I was in Dis, the second layer of hell which is ruled by Dispater, and consists of a large city that provides soldiers to the other layers." Noke says to the team with a strange smile.
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"Floria!" Pai squeals with delight as she returns the hug, almost vibrating with excitement. "Oh, you know, I'm not really sure what we're doing, but I was so bored, you know? So I took the first job I could get and rushed on out here. Can't be worse than what we did last time, eh?"
"Second one, Pai,"...
"EEE! Tsuan! I haven't seen you since the wedding!" Pai zooms over to greet Tsuan. "You're so sneaky! I love it! How've you been?"
When the dark newcomer arrives, Pai's eyes go wide in appreciation. "Hi! I'm Pai! Welcome! I gotta say, that trip sounds way dangerous and exciting! I wanna hear all about it. When we've got time, of course."
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The shadow slid across the camp, little more than a sparrow darting across a tent. Had anyone in the camp looked up, the roc above would be indistinguishable against the sky.
"Cleared for jump," The grippli heard in his ear and he tapped the pilot on the shoulder. SeeOneThirty banked and Wiem Weems let go of the saddle.
"Roger that. Commencing deployment... now," he said, pushing off the bird and falling like a purple rock. Wiem Weems flattened his arms to his side, and splayed his toes to create some drag. His head tipped downward and the fall changed from rock, to rocket.
He fell like that for six heartbeats, twelve, twenty four. Then he pulled out what looks like a wreath of vines with four black blades. As the wind rushes through the starknife it picks up energy, beginning to spark with the friction.
When he could make out the camp's edges, tell one tent from another, see the sentries, he opened up. Splaying his fingers and toes he changed trajectories, skimming over the wall, passed canvas roofs, skirted under ropes and eventually rolling into a tidy landing on the grass.
Noting no targets he harmlessy releases his weapons energy into the ground. Then walks to casually, as if he had always been here, into the predetermined meeting place.
"Corporal Wiem Weems Finyik, reporting for duty." he says with a salute.
He salutes the others as he meets them all.
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"How've you been?"
"Fine, and you?"
She and Pai step away from the group.
She'll tell the story of a simple proposal back on Pariol Island where they first met. They rowed a boat out from Absalom (where they both live) in the early, early morning - okay, Tsuan did most of the rowing - and he proposed just as the sun rose over the horizon.
They're planning to get married when Tsuan completes this mission.
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"Corporal Wiem Weems Finyik, reporting for duty."
Turning at the new entrant's announcement, Pai gives a perky wave. "Oh, hi! I'm Pai! Should we call you Corporal Wiem Weems Finyik every time? Or something shorter? Honestly, I have no problem with longer names. Gnome male names can get pretty long, too."
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Noting the lack of formal uniforms, including his own, Wiem Weems once again reminds himself he is not in a military setting. A bit sheepishly he peeps, "No ma'am. Wiem Weems will do." His throat pouch nervously stretches to white before he lets out a breath and adds, "Or, Even-just, Wiem. Thank you ma'am."
The Master of Swords, Marcus Farabellus tiredly walks into the tent with a pile of reports. He carefully sets them on his makeshift desk, squints, indicating a few chairs, and launches immediately into his brief.
“We have little time. I’ll be as quick and clear as I can. Tancred Desimire and that traitorous dwarf, Thurl, are on their way to Jormurdun as we speak.”
By now, every Society member knows about Thurl’s betrayal in Nerosyan. His alliance with that disgraced Chelaxian noble isn’t surprising. But the confirmation that they are grabbing for the Society’s prize charges the air with tension.
“I knew something was wrong when our spies told us the villains weren’t leading their troops, but it took time to learn the truth. Those worms are using this battle as cover.”
The Master of Blades points to one of the maps on the table. “The enemy’s forces are lined up here, blocking our advance. We’re making a direct assault to dislodge them, but we don’t have time to wait. I need you to go after them. Our forces have punched a hole in their line, giving you the opening you’ll need to slip through, track them down, and stop them.”
Farabellus fixes each agent with a hard stare. “In the case of Thurl, that means permanently. He has destroyed countless lives and has put even more at grave risk. Don’t waste any energy trying to bring him back alive—not that he’ll likely give you the chance."
“Desimire is more of a problem. The Society doesn’t need him back alive, either, but Paracountess Dralneen personally requested that we turn him over to Cheliax for trial. She has a personal stake in this. You may recall the mess surrounding her disappearance last year—including Tancred’s involvement. Take him alive, if you can. If not, bring back his body, but make sure his head and jaw are intact.”
He stands up and steps back from the desk taking a deep breath, “So, that’s it. Catch up to these treasonous villains and don’t let them get a foothold in Jormurdun. They’ve got a head start so they might take you right to the Sky Citadel’s entrance. That’ll at least save us the work of searching for it, but they must not be allowed to hold that site."
“And one more thing. If you do manage to get inside, try not to break anything. High King Borogrim is allowing the Society to explore the Citadel first, but we must turn it over in good condition.”
The Master of Blades leans on the table again. “This mission is critical. Those two must not get their hands on any of Jormurdun’s treasures. The loss of historical knowledge is nothing compared to the damage they could do if those relics fell into the hands of those controlling the Worldwound."
“The quartermasters can outfit you with supplies once you’ve gotten yourselves together. I’ll have escorts take you through the battle lines. If you’ve got any questions, ask now. Otherwise, get going.”
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"Whoa." Pai's at a loss. This is...huge. And yet another mission that requires killing people. Bad people, and the world will be better off without them, but still. She didn't get into the Pathfinder Society to become a mercenary. Okay. Just like last time. I gotta frame this differently. Super evil bad guys wanna cause a bunch of death and destruction. They'll keep doing that as long as they're alive. Well, at least Thurl, anyway. Desimire...well, maybe we don't have to kill him. Pai's too busy grappling with the intent of this mission to come up with any questions, so is uncharacteristically quiet and still.
"Demons." Marcus says with disgust.
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"Thurl?!"
Floria abruptly stands up at the mention of his name, then when it's apparent no-one else is moving she starts pacing back and forth to have something to do.
"I'd hoped I'd get the chance to catch up with that monster. I was in Nerosyan during the siege, and what he did to that poor woman..."
She turns back to the master of swords and places her hands on the back of a chair. Her face twitches, and she's clearly struggling to maintain her composure.
Not now!
"What does he want with Jormurdun?"
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Wiem Weems touches a hand to his ear and whistles. Soon a dark shadow passes over the tent and a large eagle-like creature lands outside. Wiem Weems has heard the stories behind this Thurl, though he has fortunately not had any direct experience. "Who among us can track the villains? Can any of you fly?" Tracking will be difficult, but catching the one-time venture-captain is better done sooner than later.
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"OOOH! OOOH! I can fly! I'm really good at it! I'll be the eyes in the sky!" Of course, Pai's never tried to fly in a windstorm, but she's certain she's totally awesome at it. "Okay! Track these dudes, kill Thurl--" Here she shudders. "--and bring back Desimire all hog-tied and gagged. Anyone need to know anything else? OOH! We should buy manacles!"
Pai's never been good at coming up with questions during this briefing, and she desperately wants to get moving and doing. Moving and doing!
Farabellus nods at Tsuan's response and then turns back to Noke. "It looks like you can be filled in on the way for the first question. As for the second, the last report mentions that they have a few cultists and the murderers sprung from prison, and of course some demons travel with them. But both are skilled in summoning magic, so we don’t know if they’ll have any new help. Expect anything.”
The Master of Swords sets his jaw and afixes the team with one final look, "Those two have declared themselves enemies of the Society through their actions. On behalf of the Society, show how poor a choice it is to make us an enemy."
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Um, is this the right place?
Is a voice heard from a small a young gnome poking his head into the briefing from outside.
He is casually dressed, in clothes that do not seem to fit, and maybe have been slept in more than once too often. His hair is badly in need of a comb, but he seems oblivious to his appearance while his eyes dart back and forth from his strange green cat, to the sky and back. His mind is definitely not focused on the here and now, as he smiles caught in his own thoughts.
Whiskers, I am glad we did not miss the mission. I told you to set an alarm, well a better one this time, or two.
Tracking? I am not any good at tracking at all. Which I should be better than usual since I was raised in the woods....by a druid. But well, I guess I just did not track well. I can fly with a spell, but Whiskers has wings and can like totally fly on his own!
Farabellus’s troops guide you across the battlefield, staying clear of the main battle sites. You witness minor skirmishes, but most of the fighting seems to have moved on to other areas.
After about an hour of travel, the guides point to the west northwest, claiming that was the direction Tancred Desimire and Thurl were last seen heading. They then depart to join in the final assault on the demonic army.
Wiem is just not sure. The perspective of flying around so often is skewing his analysis.
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Um, is this the right place?
Is a voice heard from a small a young gnome poking his head into the briefing from outside.
He is casually dressed, in clothes that do not seem to fit, and maybe have been slept in more than once too often. His hair is badly in need of a comb, but he seems oblivious to his appearance while his eyes dart back and forth from his strange green cat, to the sky and back. His mind is definitely not focused on the here and now, as he smiles caught in his own thoughts.
Whiskers, I am glad we did not miss the mission. I told you to set an alarm, well a better one this time, or two.
Tracking? I am not any good at tracking at all. Which I should be better than usual since I was raised in the woods....by a druid. But well, I guess I just did not track well. I can fly with a spell, but Whiskers has wings and can like totally fly on his own!
Noke smiles at Wembly!
"Yes, yes! Come we need to hurry! We will brief you on everything that we know!" she says and gives Wembly all the details.
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When they arrive at the frontline Noke tries to keep quite and use her knowledge of the terrain to the group's advantage.
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Pai's eyes immediately go as wide as saucers as she turns to see Wembly and his green winged cat. "Oh. My. Word. Wembly, you're doubly welcome. Please introduce me to your magnificent cat!"
"Hmmmmmm..." Pai flies low to the ground and ahead of the group, hoping to spot the bad guys' tracks without disturbing them.
Well, if they're there, at least she didn't disturb them!
Realizing that she could maybe help out in other ways, Pai simply keeps her eyes peeled for anything *she'd* use (or go around, or whatevernot) if *she* were trying to get to Jormundun in a hurry, as well as any signs of their passage.
"Okay! Now I'm getting the hang of this!" Confident in her ability to spot stuff for the recent leg of their journey, Pai switches to more traditional means of discerning their path.
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Ever eager to be busy and useful, Pai does her level best to help with the tracking and whatnot.
Unfortunately, she spends most of her time chattering at everyone instead of looking, so she ends up being quite counterproductive. It's like having a hyper child along, really.
All of that said, succeeding at everything does not always make for the most interesting stories.
The cold ground crunches beneath your feet and silent bursts of lightning—exploding in anything but natural colors—illuminate the gray clouds. Occasionally, sunlight shines through an opening above, providing light, but little warmth.
A chill wind blows from the north, carrying tiny, white snowflakes that irritate the eyes. Sometimes, small red specks cover you and your gear, suggesting that the flakes are not always made of water. A ragged howl echoes in the distance, evidence of where the Wolfcrags get their name.