Following their recent successes in aiding the government of Qadira with apprehending an errant genie-binder, the Pathfinder Society earned the right to establish a new lodge in the port city of Sedeq! With the construction of the site complete, the Society sent a group to formally begin operations from the new edifice.
They never arrived.
With city officials threatening to auction off the new building should the Pathfinder Society neglect to occupy it, the Society sends a backup group of Pathfinders to investigate the lodge…
|
A self-styled prankster, Aurika (oh-REE-kah) is a budding illusionist who grew up in the poorest part of Absalom: The Puddles District. She's maintained close ties to the low-born of the city, but through her keen intelligence and a bit of luck she managed to make her way into the Pathfinder Society. She now hopes to make a fortune and live comfortable the rest of her life.
Quadira's port city of Sedeq is beautiful and ugly. It is located on the Alavah Peninsula south of the Zho Mountains, and filled with balmy breezes and lush gardens. However, it's also the Eastern hub of the North Tack trading route, and slavery is legal and common here.
You're approaching the outskirts of the city; it's cooler here under the shade of Eucalyptus trees, and a relief to have escaped the chaos of the bustling markets.
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin asked you to discover what happened to some Pathfinders who came here to found a lodge. It seems they've gone missing…
Field agents,
After the defeat of Corvius Vayn, a cruel genie binder, the Society was granted permission to open a new lodge in Sedeq. A group of Pathfinders was sent to prepare the new lodge for opening but has disappeared without a trace. All we know is the building stands abandoned. I am sending you to discover the reason for this unusual silence.
The lodge is an important step toward expanding the Society’s presence in Qadira. Much work has gone into securing this unprecedented opportunity for the Society—we hope a lodge in Sedeq might allow us to oppose Qadira’s ongoing practice of genie binding more directly. The fate of all those bound to serve cruel aristocrats and genie binders in Sedeq may depend on your success, as the government has threatened to shut down our lodge if it remains abandoned.
Go to the lodge, discover the fate of your colleagues, and rescue them if necessary. Hopefully, you can find them in time so they can prepare for the lodge’s upcoming grand opening.
I eagerly await your report.
—Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin, Grand Lodge of Absalom
As you walk down the road, you notice some ellow Pathfinders coming this way (or perhaps you've been traveling together!)
|
"Barbaric. If I had to be stranded in the f%$&ing dark ages, it could at least have been been after they stopped f!$*ing selling people..."
A man with odd, glowing lines tattooed (or maybe their not tattoos, it's hard to tell) walks along muttering to himself. He wears strange armor composed of hexagonal plates of some unknown, matte material, crafted with a precision not normally seen. He bears several toolkits crossing his chest, though they are a strange patchwork of familiar and bizarre implements. Coiled at his waist is a length of rope that seems to be made of metal, with an icosahedral contraption affixed to one end. When he notices other Pathfinders nearby he stops grumbling and gives a sullen nod in greeting. "You must be here for the same job old Sideburns sent me on. Name's Max."
|
With a rhythmic 'hup, hup, hup,' a strapping sprite hops into the room on cricket legs, carrying a bright yellow pear, nearly as big as himself, on one shoulder.
He leaps onto the table top with a bound and puts the fruit down with a final 'hup'. His face is painted in shades of green. His auburn hair is wavy, and his hide armor well maintained. On his back he carries a sharp guisarme. He proudly admires the pear before turning to introduce himself.
"Name's Mint," he says, holding out a hand and offering a firm shake.
"They still bind genies where you're from too?" He asks Max, before taking a bite of the pear.
He smiles, mouth full, and gestures at the fruit. "Don't worry. I've got plenty to share."
|
A battered looking upright ratfolk scratches behind an ear that is partly missing. A stained and tattered green cloak pulled back as he munches on some bits of dried meat left over from his meal as he walks the streets. He scratches again thinking to himself on how he is going to get rid of these fleas. Where he came from in time they didn't exist anymore outside of holofiles. But he is here now, with no way back and stuck with them. He sees two others already joining at the meeting spot as he slogs through the muddy road in displeasure "Name's Scerzaq. You all receive a letter from..." He opens his note. "Ambrus as well?" He stops talking as the small Ysoki goes into a hacking cough into the side of his cloak.
"Barbaric. If I had to be stranded in the f!+*ing dark ages, it could at least have been been after they stopped f*+#ing selling people..."
"Oh, you have no idea, but somehow you manage to survive another day." He looks around as every town he has been to so far has been like the dark ages...
As you talk, you wonder. There were supposed to be a couple more Pathfinders on this mission. Where've they gone?
|
|
Aurika ducks out of an alley, her movements low and furtive. She looks back, and for anyone looking they would see an expression of irritation cross her face. Why oh why did they follow me here? Sedeq was supposed to be a break from Absalom's drama.
Spotting the other Pathfinders, she weaves her way through the crowds. Nearing them, she stands straight and only spares one more glance back before speaking. "Scerzaq! It's good to see you again. And look, some new faces for me. You all get Valsin's letter too, huh? Any bets the others ran afoul of folks who aren't so keen on giving up on genie-binding? It's a pretty awful practice, even if the magic itself is fascinating in a 'gawking at a broken down cart as you pass by' kind of way."
"Should we head to the lodge? Or are we waiting on someone? I'd like to get started quickly," she says, glancing behind her one more time.
Aurika brings up a cogent point. While you wait for your fifth — one Dramar — you collaborate about genies and genie-binders in this region.
Scerzac scratches himself as he tells you about some pathfinder Chronicles he read while acclimating too this time. Genies are particularly prized by the nobility of Sedeq. Wish-granting genies, from bottled djinn to amber-encased shaitans, command an exorbitant price in Qadira’s markets. Binding these incredibly powerful creatures is a sign of great power in Qadira.
Maxel has a good lead on the local politics of genie-binding, too. Deena al-Parishat, Shahiyan of Qadira, is supposedly working to end the heinous practice of genie binding, among other injustices.
|
|
You see a powerfully built blonde Dwarf heading down the road your direction. Thick tufts of blonde hair poke out from the top of his leather armor. He has a dagger by his side and a buckler on his arm.
"Ah yes, you must be the others sent here. Qaidira. sigh. I didn't think my first job would put me here of all places. I'm Dramar. Any news yet?"
Imagining the sumptuous living spaces of genies only makes the building at the end of the narrow road even more disappointing.
You were told the place was renovated recently, but that must be a lie. It appears totally neglected. The gardens surrounding the lodge are choked by weeds; the fountains are cracked and dried u[. A cobblestone path leading to the entrance is barely visible through tall grass growing in the cracks in the path, at the end of which hangs a massive brass door that's about to fall off its rusty hinges. It's eerily quiet, in stark contrast to the loud murmur of the nearby city.
You carefully poke around the overgrown yard. None of you notice any traps. Peering through the grimy windows, you see the rooms are filled with formerly elegant furniture, now decaying. A thick, undisturbed layer of dust covers everything, giving the rooms a muted appearance.
After the defeat of Corvius Vayn…
Scerzaq remembers that Vayne was defeated by Society agents a year ago to the month. The lodge was donated shortly after, and then had some construction done to it before the agents were sent out to take control and formally open it. With all the problems happening lately around the region's lodges, tt was probably a good while before anyone at the Society leadership noted they hadn't reported in.
They must have been missing for several months at least. There's certainly enough dust on the ground.
Mint kicks the doors off their rusty hinges.
The beefy sprite steps inside the empty foyer. Once he's in, a melodic voice — seemingly coming from the air itself — rings out.
“Beware! One might assume you are thieves and scoundrels, entering like that!”
Strong winds blow around, kicking up dust and ruffling your hair. In a moment it coalesces into the form of an elegantly dressed djinni wearing multicolored silks. Their azure skin is draped with jewelry of gold and lapis lazuli, jingling as the winds dissipate. Along the djinni’s arms are chains of gold. Beautiful, but chains nonetheless.
“Perhaps you are thieves — well more specifically, ones who don't belong here. Are you? Shall I smite you?
It's obvious they are a genie, but none of you are knowledgeable enough to tell what kind.
"Just because you're Pathfinders doesn't mean you're not thieves… but I digress. You are the ones I was instructed to wait for." They drift closer. “I am Safa, and I bring you a chance to save those who came before you and reclaim your lodge.”
Safa extends their hand to create a translucent orb. Six Pathfinders sleep upon comfortable pillows within. Safa speaks as if reciting a formalized and well-rehearsed script.
“He who has bound me demands you complete three tasks in exchange for your friends. Fail, and your friends shall share my fate: to be bound to the one who commands me.” They say the words in a flat, joyless tone.
“First, he wishes you to bring ruin to his rival: Azam ibn Bashemi, a historian seeking patronage from the illustrious Avisha al-Isman of the Satrapian Guard. Sabotage his feast in the nearby parks, and replace his gift for Avisha with this trinket, and his humiliation is assured—but try not to draw attention to yourselves.” The djinni gestures; a small toy soldier appears on the dusty floor.
“Second, he demands you acquire a brass stopper, a silver chain, and a cold iron container from the Overmarket. He asked me to ensure you acquire these objects, so acquire them you must.” They pause meaningfully. “What you do with them once you acquire them is not my concern, per the exact my master's instructions as he told them to me. I personally urge you to seek Raha Shul so that the purpose of these objects may become clear and you can make the right choice.” A small glass orb filled with moving smoke appears in Safa's hand. They rotate it back and forth for a moment and then float it to Mint. “This valuable bauble may help you in your trades, but a kind heart or a sharp wit may help you more."
“Lastly, he demands that you punish the hobgoblins of the Iron Ring for defying his will. Slay Tadrun, the captain of the Swift Huntress.” Safa pauses, and lowers their voice to a whisper that is clear as a bell in your minds. “There are those on board the ship I hope you can free from imprisonment. Find Zoha, an undine walking in Sarenrae’s light, and ask for his help to board the ship, which is undergoing repairs. Free the ship’s captives, and prove that the Pathfinder Society has sympathy for those sharing my fate. Then—once they are free — burn the ship!”
Safa takes a breath. They speak once more in their normal voice. “It is just after sunrise. You have until sundown to complete these tasks in whatever order you choose. Then return to the lodge. The genie pauses. I am sure you have questions, and I shall try to answer.” The genie whispers once more, “After all, I am on your side.”
"Where are our fellow Pathfinders? Clearly there are kept somewhere. And who has bound you?"
“They are in my domain, unaware of the passage of time. I have done them no harm, and I intend to free them once the tasks are complete.”
"Who is this master of yours? Can we free you too while we're at it? And who is this Raha Shul you mentioned?"
[b]“I am a djinni bound to serve a cruel genie binder. I cannot reveal his identity to you, or act directly against him. Raha Shul is a merchant in the Overmarket.”
I know of none. They say this sadly. I have my orders, and I am bound to obey.
They smile ar Mint. “Azam is a Qadiran traditionalist of the worst sort. One who espouses imperialism and subjugation of others. Even though it furthers my binder’s agenda, I will also take satisfaction in you bringing him humiliation. Just try not to let the blame fall on you!”
|
|
"Nine bloody Hells," Aurika says, her expression showing anger. "Just so I get this straight, we're to secretly embarrass Azam ibn Bashemi, buy a few odds and ends that Raha Shul can probably explain the purpose of, and murder Tadrum... ideally after we free the captives aboard their ship, a task Zoha can help with. That about right?"
Not waiting for a reply, she says, "What's Tadrum's story? Just who are they?"
They smile sadly. I wish I could make the rules.
I know little of Tadrun, beyond that he is a member if the Iron Ring, a hobgoblin organization of cruel corsairs. They refused to trade with my binder, and he wishes to see them punished. He cares not for the recent captives still aboard the Iron Ring’s ship, but I expect you share my desire to see them freed. Punishing the Iron Ring may serve my genie binder’s aims, but hopefully such action is also in line with the Society’s goals in Sedeq, yes?”
They smile. You are free to go. I assume your Society might want you doing what you can to ree your friends. A shrug. I can only do as I have been commanded. I won't force you.
|
|
"Yeah, I'm with Maxel. This isn't one of those 'enemy of my enemy' situations. Messing with some bad individuals for some joker so we can get our people back? I can work with that."
She seems mulls it over. "Azam ibn Bashemi is probably a mark I can work with. I have know a disguise spell, but didn't expect to need it. But I don't mind buying a scroll for the job. I can do the Calistrian switch with the soldier too, unless one of want to do it."
"So you are worried of us being thieves and yet you ask us to murder, steal and sabotage." Scerzaq asks the genie curiously.
They frown. I, Safa, do not ask anything of you. I, Safa the djinni, am compelled against my will to give you these tasks. I am trapped just like your friends, but unlike your friends you cannot save me.
These are my master's three chosen tasks, not mine. A small smile. Nonetheless, if one must do an odious task, then perhaps one can wring some good from it, no?
"Surely there is another way, I mean I have no problems with any of it as a coin is a coin but what if we find the man you are bound to and freed you instead?"
My master is far more powerful than you seem capable of dealing with, and you've walked into his trap. Now you're caught. There is another way. You can leave. It would mean that you lose your friends forever. Perhaps this is acceptable to you. I will not force you, or judge you.
She seems mulls it over. "Azam ibn Bashemi is probably a mark I can work with. I have know a disguise spell, but didn't expect to need it. But I don't mind buying a scroll for the job. I can do the Calistrian switch with the soldier too, unless one of want to do it."
☥☥☥
Music and laughter fill the air in public park that's not far from the lodge. Azam plans a day-long feast, and even at this hour there is a bustle as the celebration gets underway.
Colorful tents surround a wide area filled with expensive pillows. A middle-aged Qadiran man with jet-black hair smiles widely as he raises his hands, and the crowd’s murmur ends.
“Friends, I trust you will enjoy the day’s festivities! What a feast we have in store for you! I, Azam, am not one to boast, but the marvels you will see pale only to those created by Sulesh the Great and his army of genies,” the man pauses as his speech takes a turn.
“Our past is filled with stories that speak of our might and bravery. But where has that might gone? Who trembles at the sound of Qadiran steps approaching their borders? Too long we have been complacent.” He sighs, shaking his head as he retrieves a small stone from his elegant robe. “Too long have we been weak. Ahh, but now is the time for celebration and marvel,” his voice again loud and boisterous.
Azam claps his hands, and the barren soil twists and shifts until water rushes in to create a perfect oasis between the tall palm trees. Azam speaks one last time before sitting on a large pillow.
“Delight in the festivities. Endless refreshments and wonderful performances are yours to enjoy as we await the arrival of the illustrious Avisha al-Isman, who shall honor us with her presence soon. I hope she finds my gift to be a worthy symbol of her great accomplishments,” Azam says, patting a small ornate chest sitting on a pillow next to him. That must contain his gift for Avisha, and it seems he won;t let it out of his sight!
“And if you are of keen intellect and refined taste, sit with me for a traditional rendition of the great epic, The Tale of Al-Yazan the Wanderer, so that we shall remember the history of the empire as we hope for its future. I will begin soon.”
Aurika and Dramar know The Tale of Al-Yazan the Wanderer is a 2-hour epic that speaks of war and imperialistic aims.
☥☥☥
There are other delights on the way. You hear the Twisting Embers will be performing soon, there are to be chilled refreshments (a rarity here), and a mounted archery demonstration.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
There are already people gathering near the refreshments table; it's getting hotter by the minute as the sun burns away the cooler morning air.
Tiny-sized Mint can easily slip between the legs the humans lining up. He watches the bartender work: she mixes colorful mocktails and then puts each warm glass under a cloth-covered table. When she pulls the glasses come out, they are full of ice cubes and rimed with frost! The people grab them as quickly as she can make them, eager for a cold treat.
From his low perspective, Mint can see the bottom of the tablecloth flutter, as if there is a tiny bellows or some other device hidden below.