Your adventure begins in Ravounel’s capital city of Kintargo as you cross Bleakbridge, the bridge that connects the northern and southern halves of the city and also serves as a thriving hub of commerce. The marketplace’s slender, wooden storefronts dissipate into tents and pop-up vendors. As you pass a lively tavern called Clenchjaw’s, you spot a sandwich board sign with the silhouette of a swashbuckling figure with silver ravens flying behind them.
"Fortune and glory await daring adventurers. Ask Laela Vost about exciting opportunities. Experience on boats and at sea is a bonus!"
Inside the lively tavern, you have no trouble finding people who can point you to Laela Vost, a bronze-skinned Taldan woman in fine embroidered clothes, sitting at a table within view of the band playing on stage. Laela begins by offering you some mint tea and butter mints, as well as a seat at her table. She briefly interviews each of you, asking about your adventuring experience individually and how you work together as a team.
"Have a seat. The mint tea and butter mints here are pretty good. So, you wanna go on an adventure, eh? What have you done so far? How long have y'all been working together?"
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More closely resembling a set of oddly connected sacks of lumpy flesh than a person Squish communicates surprisingly eloquently for a creature with no discernable mouth.
"Blub, I assure you I am an exceptional field agent with the Pathfinder Society. While not a trained sailor I live on the Isle of Kortos now days and have sailed many a times, blub."
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A tall slender woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail sits at the table with the odd looking creature.
"Zhamie Zhapp! Pathologique Forensique. I study ze medicine and 'ow ze body reacts to ze damage. I can tell 'ow a person has left zis vorld. I am also a docteur or a healeur. So mon ami, you are a Pathfindeur?"
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An excitable Song'o halfling bounces in, first noticing the mint tea and butter mints before his fellow Pathfinders.
"OMIGERDS those look so good, I must have your recipe! Er ... Bechamel Mornay, at your service."
He greets Squish and Zhamie and offers to augment the snacks with a bag of herb-infused crackers.
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Roar of the Storm enters the tavern and seems to avoid the livelier aspects of the tavern, as magical power covers his ears. The tall, lithe elf sits down next to the rest of the group as he places his overloaded backpack and tridents on the floor next to him. "GREETINGS! I AM ROAR OF THE STORM!" he says, trying to tune out the band's... noise.
He will gladly take a cup of mint tea, but politely declines the butter mints. Looking at Laela, he introduces himself. "I AM A NEW PATHFINDER WITH THE SOC..." as the music finally abates and he realizes that he is screaming. "Ahem..."
"Greetings, I am Roar of the Storm. You may call me Storm. I am a new Pathfinder with the Society and I was told to meet a Laela here. Would you happen to know where to find her?" he asks with a sip of overly sweetened tea.
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Hearing Blub's introduction, the dark-skinned elf nods. "It is wise to bring an exceptional field agent along. Are we sailing? I was not made aware that this would be a venture involving boats, however I am amenable to this type of adventure for experience purposes."
As Bechamel adds his introduction, Storm waves him off. "I do not have a recipe for bechamel or mornay sauces. I would check with the chef in the kitchen." he says, clearly more interested in the anthropomorphic seal sitting next to him. The tea sits cooling with apparently zero interest.
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Incidentally, she had expected to meet a friend for tea at Clenchjaw's, arriving early and having had thought she spotted her, and sitting down next to Laela Vost. It takes her a few moments to realize her mistake. Oh wait, our play date is tomorrow!
"Well. My day just yielded clear skies..." making the better of the moment, and looking around the table at the people she had thought were also waiting for other people - it is a crowded pub, after all - and finally responding to the question "Yes we have met. It has almost happened yet" she begins sipping her tea - the perfect temperature! - and decides on a whim that wherever the fates carry her this day, that she will go willingly.
"My name is Zòila, and you can call me that, dearies" it is now that the lines in her face become more defining in the poor lighting here, but something about her seams to suggest a youthfulness, a non-physical element, an energy of some kind, and somehow, a firmness yet softness juxtapositioned just so, like she might be equally quick to scold as to praise, her smile a communication of intelligence, wisdom, and... something else!... mischief?...
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A man in his late 50s with greying hair wearing a breastplate and carrying a shield covered in a red cloth wearily approaches Laela. A longsword hangs from his belt and a quartet of javelins is strapped to his backpack. He is powerfully built but time has taken its toll on his aged body. He is frowning and clearly annoyed at something. He mutters under his breath.
"What do you want of me now, Inheritor? Haven't I earned my retirement?"
"Have a seat. The mint tea and butter mints here are pretty good. So, you wanna go on an adventure, eh? What have you done so far? How long have y'all been working together?"
Sighing, the man sits and politely takes a sip of tea. "While I do not precisely want to go on an adventure, I must travel where the Inheritor leads me. My name is Simon Osbourne and I have spent over 30 years in the Taldan Phalanx, most of it as a knight-captain, is that enough qualification for you?"
Having heard their experiences as adventurers one-by-one and exchanged some pleasantries, Laela Vost introduces herself to them with a somewhat loud speaking voice.
"Sorry about that, Roar. People here are as fun as they can be. And nice cookies you have there, Bechamel, is that you said your name? Maybe I can add that on my menu here.” Laela says. She gets close to Simon's ear and whispers, "Maybe your Inheritor wants you to explore more."
[b]“Nevertheless," now back to her normal loud speaking voice, "I think I am convinced enough that you can get through an adventure I am giving you. By the way, I am Laela Vost, I am an entrepreneur and I have a wonderful opportunity…” she pauses, looks around the tavern and signals you to get closer to her and huddle. She continues speaking but this time she is whispering loud enough for you to hear her but not the others, “to salvage some treasures from a wrecked Chelaxian ship called Infidius, just off the coast. I served there as part of its crew of that ship when she ran aground. Anything you will find there would be my severance pay, and that will help me start my own business. Whatever you salvage from there, we’ll share it equally.”
“So, what do you think?” she asks, now in her normal loud speaking voice, with her one hand on her hip.
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Zòila shrugs, and pulls from her bag an hourglass with an exceptionally thin isthmus between the bottom chamber filled with fine yellow sand and top chamber filled with air. She turns it upside down "Infidius" with a clocking sound upon the table, stirring the adjacent teacups just barely enough to spurn several small concentric circles into gentle propagation across the buttery thick surface tensions "Infinite!" playing with her words before allowing some coherence to brook "Laela Vost, I will have accepted your offer presently. Just as soon as" and she looks down here, and finishes the last sip of the perfectly temperatured substance "Ah now, wasn't that delightful?"
”I thought no one would ask,” she almost becomes disappointed. ”You see, the Infidius had hauled Chelaxian goods out of the city as part of the sudden exodus during Kintargo’s secession from Cheliax. The captain of the Infidius ran his ship aground during the escape from Kintargo, and he and his crew quickly evacuated onto another escaping vessel. This left the Infidius in a precarious section of rock, just a short travel from the docks of Kintargo. The ship belonged to the Delronge family, wealthy merchants who are loyal to Cheliax’s ruling house of Thrune.
”So far, no one has ventured to the wreck because of the current political climate. Once it subsides, it’ll be every person for themselves in a mad dash to reclaim lost Chelaxian plunder.”
She continues, whispering, ”that's why I reached out for you all to salvage whatever you will get there, before those things happen.” She ends her explanation with a wink.
”So do you still have questions? Are we going now?” she asks them.
”Oh, Bechamel, thanks,” she blushes to his compliment but it would not be obvious with her bronze skin.
”As we go there, you will see that the Infidius is left in a precarious section of rock, just a short travel from the docks here in Kintargo. You won't be needing any swimming gear, but I must warn those of you wearing a heavy armor to not go dressed as an anchor because I am taking you in my small skiff to the wreck and the waters are choppy and treacherous,” she adds.
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Muttering to himself, Storm seems to be taking notes on the information. "Notation: ship salvage operation; Infidius; owners Delronge family; seven-way split."
As Laela ends her information session, Storm stands up and grabs his pack, tridents jangling about. "I am ready to proceed to this shipwreck. Armor and swimming should not pose a problem for me." he states clearly.
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"Out of bounds" Zòila speaks up before deciding whether to (1) praise or (2) scold the opportunistic idea () "Is where we meet then - what excitement awaits!" she shakes a little in anticipation - perhaps she will have a story to share with her play date when they meet tomorrow!
"That one dear" Twitching her nose to "point", and grabbing the handed-back staff-sling she had checked at the door, our eager elder hero also grabs a couple more butter mints and stuffs them into her pocket "For the trip" she explains winking at Bechamel.
”I think most of us are ready,” Laela happily says. She leads them to her skiff. ”Yeah, I know it is small but I insist that I will take you with this to the wreck. Okay, choose your seats, come on, we don't have all the time in the world, I'll row the skiff going there for you.”
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Looking at the enigma of Zoila, Storm seems jarred from his deep thought. "Oh yes, notations and information are the key to any successful endeavor, though you seem to have a more... carefree approach." he says, scanning over the woman for the first time. "Would you care to spend the next hour detailing your processes and conditions? I'm sure your abilities need to be well-documented." he offers.
The brave adventurers take their seats that they wish are comfortable in the skiff of Laela. Zhamie sits beside Blub with her curious look to the fleshwarp. Zoila is next to Storm that has been taking notes of everything since they all met. Simon takes the empty seat in the middle, in which it is later occupied by Bechamel who is trying hard not to be obvious of his curiosity of Blub.
"Time to row!" Laela says happily. She then maneuvers her small crowded skiff toward the wreckage.
As they get nearer, they get a better view of the wreckage. What's left of the Infidius lies broken upon a rocky outcropping jutting from the harbor a short distance away. The further out that the party travels, the rougher the waves become. One particularly large wave rocks the skiff hard enough.
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"Documentation comes in many forms. Take your lovely eyes for instance - with each twitch, a thousand jots of a quill, little points of infinitesimally small perception, traveling from the world itself to some place within you conscious or unconscious memory. Now take your lovely third eye, turn it back inside yourself, and begin to sift through your memories for one of these innumerable points, enfolded into your very being, unpacked into an idea you can share back with the world. With such a system, who needs paper and ink?"
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Having accidentally disembarked and now choking on water "I believe **gurgle**" bobbing down "Blub**gurgle**" bobbing up "is over there **gurgle**" and toppling over "Did you write that down? **gurgle**" disappearing under the rough water a moment, her tone, between gasps of breath, is both playfully teasing and moderately serious...
While she explains something to Storm about how useless paper and ink can be, so Laela thinks as she listens as well while rowing, Zoila gets awash by the large wave and is knocked by it, yet she is not to be silenced as she continues to explain the complexity of the mind, blubbing her thoughts against the sea waves. Storm’s grip was too weak; he even gets carried away with the single roar of the sea.
On the other hand, Squish is so calm, even the sea is shy to push him over with its big wave. The water seems to just glide on the skin of his fleshwarpy plumpness. Even Zhamie is able to hold into the skiff and enjoys the ride she is experiencing. Not for Simon, as he is unlucky not being able to hold into something and thrown away into the salty sea. Lastly, Bechamel, enjoying his snack, is saved from the wave, because only his snack flies away.
Fortunately for the party, they aren’t in any real danger of drowning, as the water is mostly calm, well, except for that big wave. However, the experience of being thoroughly soaked combined with the chill sea breeze is an unpleasant one. Laela, who seems tethered into her skiff, helps Simon from the water into the boat. Zoila clings and hangs on to the side of the boat and pulled back up by Zhamie. Storm is then helped by Zhamie.
”Ha! I already warned you a while ago, good thing you lot are not thrown that far,” Laela proudly says. ”Anyway, we’re almost there, you see.”
She continues rowing the skiff, carrying half of her party drenched with seawater. She navigates to the mostly intact bow of the Infidius.
”Okay, okay, you get out of my skiff now,” pushing them to disembark and go towards the sturdy part of the wreckage. ”I don’t wanna get close to that or my skiff will add to the ruins. Okay, listen now. You need to find and bring back whatever you can. I will get back to you after half an hour before the tide gets high here. But don’t you lot worry ‘coz I am just close behind, and I am leaving you this whistle in case you run into trouble, or if you need to leave sooner,” she explains and hands over a signal whistle to Squish. She then leaves the party on the wreckage, the sea humming in a silent background.
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Shattered sections of bulwark bob in the open waters of the wreckage. A massive sail grasps for the sky, barely tethered to a fractured mast. The ship’s cabin door hangs open by a hinge, the interior appearing tossed for valuables. With nothing but barnacles left on deck, and a few barrels buoying between the rocks, the party can quickly appraise that anything worth salvaging would be in the submerged hull.
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Zoila squints at Zhamie as she reaches to pull her back above board, trying to parse her thick accent, and pulled on first, proceeds to help Zhamie pull Storm back up to, continuing her conversation with him as if nothing has happened. At least until Laela starts speaking again.
She follows Squish to the Infidius.
Arriving, she feels the barnacles with her hand, squatting down with a facility that belies her age, and looks to scan the wreckage for anything of interest.
◆) Guidance
Zhamie finds a chest underwater in which Simon willingly dives into and brings it aboard. As she excitedly waits for the chest to be recovered, she finds some bones floating on the water, in which some of them have bite marks. Bechamel seems to be always hungry and always thinks of food. Fortunately for him, he finds on the saltwater a floating clear bottle with volatile contents swirling inside. Squish, on the other hand, finds a vial of ruby-red liquid while they are submerging themselves in the shallow waters. The vial bumps into their plump body. They are followed by Zoila as she feels the rough features of the barnacles, in which she also senses something that is long and metal. She pulls it out and sees it is a long, two-pronged fork. As she tries to think what it is as she intently looks at it in her hand, she barely notices murky outline of a squid jet out of her vision. Finally, Storm may love the sea but stops himself to do something athletic despite the waters being shallow. He chooses to look around and find himself looking at a filmy gray potion in a flask floating towards him.
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The clear bottle with volatile contents is a lesser bottled lightning.
The flask with filmy gray potion is a potion of water breathing.
The vial of ruby-red liquid is a minor healing potion.