The ship slides into dock as crews of gnome engineers operate hoists protruding from the cliffside overlooking the river. Large bundles of goods glide through the air at the end of sturdy ropes, down to ships at the docks and up to vaulted openings in the cliffside. Above the cliff, the white walls and towers of a keep reflect the morning sun.
Welcome to Artume, one of the many River Kingdoms.
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A three-foot green goblin () sits near the docks, having just debarked from a nearby vessel. Bandoliers criss cross his chest, containing vials and elixirs that are the mark of the alchemist's craft. He sighs softly, taking a bite of a pickle from the pickle jar he carries with him. His first mission for the Pathfinder Society. He wanted to make his benefactors proud, though in a corner of his mind he worried slightly about his sister, also off on her first mission for the Society.
"CRUNCH! This good pickle. I's should saves some for sister when I gets back. Absalom long ways off from here."
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A halfling with light brown skin and thick black hair tied into braids with colorful ribbons casually walks along the deck of the ship. The halfling is dressed in rugged travelers' clothes made of brown and green fabric, with a bright blue undershirt poking out from beneath his tunic.
There are swirls of yellow and blue lines painted on his face and hands. His eyes are closed and he has a slight smile on his face as raises his face up at the sun. Then seeing the goblin, he strolls over, reaching into his pockets for something and says, "It tis a glorious day to be on t' river." He pulls out an orange strip of dried sweet potato and offers it to the goblin.
A dwarf steps off the boat, appearing more doughy than doughty, with fiery red hair singed at the ends of his beard. He shoves a dusty apron into a too-full pack,t hen rummages around a different pocket for a moment and produces a bag of pastries, which he offers to Lokoloko.
He then points to the food. "I wouldn't say no to a good pickle, but I prefer something a bit sweeter to celebrate setting foot back on land, so dig in! There's more where that came from." He then selects one and begins to eat it as he continues down the dock.
Contrary to what you may have heard about dwarven baking, they are actually quite good, and seem to have kept well despite the journey.
"Daraj l'Bayal, at your service," he says with a bow.
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A short yet stocky young human woman walks unsteadily down the gangplank and breathes a sigh of relief to be on dry land. Covered in layers of loose fitting fabric, she pulls her shawl down to protect her eyes from the sun. Her dark face and hands a sharp contrast to the white and yellow colors of her dress, but the large Khopesh she wears across her back seems even more so.
Visibly excited to be on her first Society mission, she walks gracefully to the other society members and with sweeping gesture and a broad smile introduces herself.
"Greetings to you all, My name is Najwa Al'Sheddeh. It is a pleasure to meet you all and be a small part of your life's journey"
After the introduction she starts to scan the area with her eyes, making note of faces and anything which may be a threat.
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The half orc warrior did not like traveling by water. While it was by far necessarily the fastest way to their destination she still wished that they could have just stayed on land. However, now that they were docked she could finally breath easy, rummaging through her belt for some jerky and tearing into it as she walked towards the rest of her group of assembled Pathfinders.
"Too sour, better to put meat on your bones anyway," she spoke up once with them, hovering over most of those there at the moment being over six feet tall. A mixture of hide armor, only a few refinements of a more civilized society were present as in the case of her black boots.
"Oranna if you recall, all you need to yell to have me come swinging ," she says, eyes pointing towards the sword on her back.
The ship sways gently in its berth as sailors ready a gangplank and throw ropes to dockhands. Not long after the plank slams against the dock, a dwarven man strides up from below deck, dressed in a white shirt and a black vest. This is none other than <Venture-Captain Holgarin Smine>. As he crosses his arms, toned by decades of hard work, he nods towards the town that spreads on the slopes around the keep, “Bet you’re eager to get on your way. The Society needs you to find an old lodge. I hear it’s northeast of the town. Learn any details you can about Kerinha Napsunar and report back to me. Also. Lot’s changed with the new king and all. People don’t always like change. I’d like to know if there’s trouble brewing. I’ll be conducting some business in town. You can contact me at the River Steed Inn.” Smine points to a fancy three-story building that stands above the cliffside a bit south of the keep, “So that’s two missions: find the lodge and keep your ears open. Any questions?”
The smell of fresh roasted fish wafts through the air. You see sailors walk past you as if the scent dragged them over.
"Another new king?" Daraj muses. "They go through them pretty fast here. Might be worth it to talk to the monks about this one."
He ponders a bit longer. "Napsunar? Practically ancient history, but we'll find out what we can."
He shares the rest of his knowledge.
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Najwa nods to Daraj in thanks. Although some of the names sound familiar, she has little knowledge of these events.
"Venture-Captain, when was the last time any have heard from this Kerinha or the Pathfinder lodge she founded? Was Kerinha one of the long lived folk? If not I assume she would have passed on by now"
She looks out into the town to assess state of the people.
"Sounds like Daraj here did his homework. I'll let him summarize our findings. Saves me from talking too much."
"Najwa, we're not sure if she is still alive. Maybe her ancestors live here now. The lodge she founded is certainly defunct, but the building may still exist. Northeast of town in an abandoned village. I suggest you ask around, see if you can pick up any clues about the lodge or the kingdom here."
The dockworkers are lively, humming to themselves and trying various fried fish from the local foodstands.
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The goblin scratches his large elongated head thoughtfully, not really certain about what he's heard or read about the River Kingdoms. Most of his experience being around Absalom, where he and his sister grew up.
He gratefully accepts the offerings from the dwarf and halfling, pausing only to put the pickle he was snacking on back into the jar. Taking a bite, he savors the starchy texture of the sweet potato before also biting into the pastry the dwarf offered.
"Mmmm. This good food. I's called Lokoloko. I's from Absalom. Are you with the Paffinders too?"
He glances up at Najwa and Oranna, red eyes widening as he gazes, awestruck, at the latter's large sword. His wide floppy ears wiggle somewhat excitedly, knowing that the two tall fighters can probably keep them safe during a scrap.
He turns to the Venture-Captain, "Do yous have any infamation about the Paffinder Lodge we's supposed to find?"
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With what little education in that matters of the society and being essentially just hired muscle, Oranna made sure not to speak on the matter, instead listening to the words of her peers. She'd instead use her time while still in the town to ask around for whatever she could find out about this apparently abandoned village just a short while from the town.
"What's the deal up North here's. Heard tell of some sort of village that every gone off and left. How come? she'd ask some of the locals after attempting friendly conversation.
Oranna and Lokoloko converge upon one food stand selling fried dough. The scent of garlic and rosemary was too strong to resist. The halfling saleswoman waves them over. "Come on over, newcomers! Try out some free samples. I see your mouths watering like the river itself. I made this batch with extra salt; tell me what you think!"
The team begins chatting about Artume. "Politics ain't my strong suit, but King Edryd is much better than the last ruler. King Waike was a powerhungry idiot and he taxed us plenty. He even tried some people for speaking out, almost hung them. But as we say around here: Say What You Will, I Live Free! Them monks brought Edryd over and overthrew him with our support." She laughs and then starts smashing some roasted garlic, releasing another nutty aroma.
"Say, you know the River Freedoms? There are six of 'em. Best you learn them now."
This is the freedom of speech (and not to be confused with freedom from the consequences of your words). Criticism of government is common in the kingdoms, and lords of the kingdoms who are lenient with loose tongues are likely to live longer.
Making an oath is a huge deal for the people of the River Kingdom (where trust is hard to come by and earned in blood), and this freedom grants the people of the kingdoms leave to persecute anyone that breaks an oath. Riverfolk who take on oaths usually keep them or die trying.
This freedom prevents lords of the River Kingdoms from blocking travel over land and water, including charging tolls for passage. In particular, this means that no lord may own the mighty Sellen River, although it also means that every river barge is its own kingdom with its captain being the king.
One of the most basic freedoms of the River Kingdoms, this one holds that all laws within a River Kingdom are flexible, and that rulers of a kingdom may do as they wish. Visitors to a river kingdom —be they king or commoner—are bound by the (often arbitrary) laws of that kingdom.
People who escape slavery are an important fact of life in the River Kingdoms. A formerly enslaved person who escapes to the River Kingdoms is considered truly free.
This freedom draws the moral distinction between burglary and robbery. Burglary, or the taking of another’s property without their knowledge, is considered offensive and is punishable under common law, as it robs the victim of the ability to defend him or herself. In the River Kingdoms, it is more preferable to face your robber and be allowed the opportunity to resist. It is acceptable to take what you want by force.
The party converges upon a tall, lanky woman at a bar. Her armor is covered in animal furs, and a mug of ale lies next to her shortbow. She takes a long sip as the Pathfinders ask about abandoned lodges.
"Hmm? Oh, the old village in the North. No one's been there for a while. Heard it was hard to protect that location. That's what my grandma told me." She hails the waiter over as he slides a roasted fish across her table. "I was there last month, tracking some elk. Lots of mud and quicksand out there. Best be careful. I can give some directions."
She starts describing the route she took to the village, and it has some good tips you didn't think about initially.
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Lokoloko takes a bite of the fried dough and his eyes take on a dreamy look.
"This good food. I's know whats you mean. Know lotsa longshanks who think they can do anything to others. In Absalom we gobs treated like trash. Longshanks thinks they can makes us slaves. But sister and me fights them off, we did!"
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Najwa is dwelling on these river freedoms while slowly chewing the delicious fried dough and listening to lokoloko's tale. Looks back at the halflings food stand longingly when her sample is gone.
"Thank you for these directions, hunter. Besides the mud and quicksand what other threats would we expect to find in the area?"
She turns to her new companions "I am prepared for the journey, but patient aplenty if any of you have further need in town"
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Kappa follows along, taking notes in a beaten up looking journal.
"Treacherous terrain and volatile politics. We best be keeping an eye on t' ground and some restraint on what we say."
The halfling wizard thinks for awhile and says, "Best be keeping a rope handy for if we encounter any sinking sand. Is there anybody that don't have a length a cord on them? Fishing town is a good place to find rope if you don't."
Daraj will take a piece of fried dough, though he eats it with a more critical tongue than most.
Regardless of how it is - or how he thinks it is - he will than the vendor and offer a tip about the ratio of sugar to dough.
Rolling plains stretch to the horizon outside Artume’s walls. The road leads north alongside the Sellen River. Smaller paths and side roads branch off towards the eastern plains, where mounted riders herd livestock across the grasslands. Beyond the grassy hills opens up a gloomy valley, where a snaking river flows sluggishly toward the Sellen. Over the centuries, the river has turned the valley into marshland.
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Najwa seems pleased to be out of the town. This land seems so lush and verdant compared to the desert where she hails from, how could anyone starve or thirst with all this life around them?
She thinks back to the words of the hunter and keeps her compass close at hand. Her teenage years learning how to track and navigate through the vast arid highlands shores her resolve. This is her first mission with the Pathfinder society, she cannot fail.
"Keep your rope close at hand just in case, but I believe the good hunters directions and our alertness to these new surroundings steer us clear of these threats. I have always been good at finding the way, but don't hesitate to offer advice, friends. We always have more to learn"
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Oranna would walk along the dirt road path out the nearest source of civilization to them, instantly feeling a lot better as she was back in her natural and comfortable environment of the wild and beautiful country side. The valley almost reminding her of Belkzen.
"If it'd help shorty, I'd carry ya on muh back," she refers back to Loko's words from earlier.
Daraj takes a rope and follows the Pathfinders more trained for this type of situation.
Najwa moves across the ground, hoping to reach the village before nightfall. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot… green foliage smells like freshly cut grass. Pollen has a sweet, but sticky scent. Feet feel sticky too. Wait a minute! She quickly takes a step back and inspects the sticky ground. She drops a branch into the mud and watches it sink as the very land swallows it.
Oranna outlines the extent of the quagmire, and the party avoids it entirely.
Nestled next to a lone hill is a drab-looking village where many of the houses have collapsed, sinking slowly into the morass. On a hillside, overlooking the village, resides a weathered, two-story house with a broken tower.
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Oranna had seen plenty a settlement like this before in Belkzen, places like this where folk would leave and abandon the place in what seemed like only a days time. It was an unnerving thing that provoked her own superstitions. She'd rather not dawdle here but the Society had tasked her with the job of discovering the lodge, and if needed would have to momentarily abandon such fears.
"A bad place to be, no walls and little defense. Very quiet. We should not camp here for the night and should attempt to leave or hole up before dusk." she says looking for notable buildings.
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Najwa nods to Oranna"Yes, I agree "She says in hushed tones"I think we should ensure the town is without threats before we venture up to the lodge, I would like no dangers at our backs"
She crouches down as she surveys the area, looking for any tracks in the mud or other signs of recent visitors to the town.
There is still plenty more of this former village to look through.
Oranna notices a discarded pouch tucked in the shadow of one of the buildings. Inside the pouch lays a scroll case and several precious gems.
Three ramshackle buildings still stand upright on a patch of slightly drier ground. The largest one looks like a barn with a silo tower. The doors have long since rotted away. A flickering light of a campfire spills out of the openings of the barn.
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Still kneeling, Najwa points to the light from the doorway "Well that makes it easy on us, at least we know we are not the only ones here. Hopefully they are just hunters or travelers seeking shelter from the night."
Contrary to her optimistic words she reaches behind her and quietly pulls the large Khopesh from her back. "But you never know" She says with a wry smile.
"We need to somehow assess their numbers, I should be capable of quietly getting close for a better look." She looks at Kappa, Lokoloko and Duraj slightly embarrassed, "I apologize but I must confess I am uncertain of your capabilities. Do you have any magics or potions that may be of use for this purpose?"
"I's got healing potions, fire bombs and lightning bombs. I loves making things burn," the goblin says with glee, stretching out the last word, his beady red eyes seeming to pulse in anticipation.
"That's pretty much what I do, though I try to be careful what I burn."
Najwa and Lokoloko sneak into the camp. Around the fire, one burly red headed man keeps his hatchet at one side and waterskin in his other hand, laughing. His four compatriots are also laughing, apparently at the same joke.
Lokoloko moves up, quiet as a cat until he kicks a pebble that hits one of the dilapidated houses. The wooden remains creak, and one of the campers points at him. The large burly man rises. His hands lay near the hatchet at his hip but not drawn. ”Hold there, goblin! Be you friend or foe? Speak quickly, or you’ll face our might.”
Najwa quickly ducks into the other building. If they noticed her, they aren't reacting.
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Kappa casts message to tell Lokoloko, "Don't stir them up none. Calm 'em down if you can.
Maybe we can make friends with them."
Daraj grabs one of his bombs and waits to see how things go.
”Well then!” His hands lower and he laughs. ”And here I am, thinking you were spies sent by that dastardly king. I’m called Chops around here. Come, come! We have some extra food from our latest hunt.” He leads you into the camp and the others move aside to provide you seating near the flames. Several roasted rabbits hover above the fire. The scent of rosemary wafts through the air. ”Hungry?”
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Lokoloko's eyes widen at the rich fare before him (at least, growing up on the streets of Absalom, a large rat to be shared between two goblins was a feast). His mouth waters as he savors the smell of the roasted meat. Though for a while, his eyes pulse slightly as he looks at the fire...
"Man name Chops. Lotsa food! Comes closer if yous can"
"Oh not spy! King bad! I's just looking for food. You lives here? Yes, hungry..."
Lokoloko whispers back to Kappa before calling out to the man.
"Come on over, plenty of room by the fire." Chops calls back and waves the goblin over. The other initiates back away from the fire, but they keep a watchful eye. "So, what are you doing out here? We're heading back to Artume and made a stop over here."
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Lokoloko tries his best to look confident. Inside he was slightly terrified at being alone with five longshanks around him.
"Be brave, " he admonishes himself silently, "The others nearby"
Turning back to Chops, he answers, "I's looking for somethings to eat. I's chased away from town. They no like gobs like me. Thinks gobs always causing trouble. I sees fire and thinks to see if there food to get."
Lokoloko droops his ears slightly, trying to make himself more forlorn. Inside, he wished his sister was here. Her music always made him braver.
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Kappa pulls out his everburning torch and steps forward out of the darkness.
"Ho! We are friendly faces here, just explorers on our way to investigate 't ruins of an old Pathfinder lodge out here. But we won't turn down hospitality freely offered. All we have in exchange are trail rations, but we are well traveled and can share with you news and stories from beyond the River Kingdoms, if you'd like."