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A short green goblin sits by the front of the boat enjoying the scenery and happily munching on a pickle. His chest is crisscrossed by bandoliers with various vials, a clear mark of his alchemist craft. A wayfinder that has seen much use hangs on his belt. As he eats, he wonders where his sister is off adventuring, not having seen her in months.
He wonders where his travels will take him this time.
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A ship is a microcosm of society.
Leaders bark orders, a chain of command makes a pecking order. Assistants provide infrastructure without respect. And rumors swirl about.
Swayaah looks out over the sea, as the sunset turns the sea red. It compliments her purple skin, and she remembers her favorite part about the sea. No one's there to judge you. She flexes her stubbed wings and pats the girl clinging to her leg.
Fae spent the ride clinging to Swayaah's leg like a shield or staying in the dark passenger cabin where no one can see her. Most people can't deal with her pale white skin or her lack of pigmentation. The Pathfinder Society is different, but old habits die hard.
Dad said she should learn about the Pathfinder Society and its history. He and Mom went to take an exam of some sort, Swayaah's not sure of the details. But it was a good excuse to take a boat ride.
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Nearby, is a lady with long blonde hair, wearing practical clothing and a Desnian holy symbol. She has a slight glow around her. She looks over at the other two and smiles.
Hello she says to the tiefling. I'm Celestia. Nice to meet you both.She then kneels down to Fae's height. Hello little one. May I be your friend. I promise to keep you safe
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"Come on, Fae. She's being nice. And she worships Desna. Just like Dad used to." Swayaah looks down and nudges Fae. The girl takes a deep breath, leaves her sanctuary and looks up. Long enough to squeak a "hello" before taking a step back.
"Fae is seasick. Also, dealing with trauma." Swayaah gives her one last look. "I'm Swayaah Maeleranti. Sorry about the claws, it's a gift from mom." Swayaah extends a hand with fingers ending with sharp nails. "This is my teammate, Fae." She carefully shakes Celestia's hand, if she reciprocates.
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Ah ... don't worry about the claws. Besides, believe it or not, my best friend is also a tiefling She gently takes the offered hand and shakes it I hear ginger is a good cure for sea sickness. But yes, I'm a travelling diplomat and an angelic sorcerer. Think of me as a healer cleric without the responsibilities and obligations.
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Hearing voices behind him, the goblin turns and sees three other individuals emerge on deck. Getting down from his perch, he grabs his pickle jar and heads over to meet them.
"Hello. I's Lokoloko. Are yous from the Paffinder society too? Pickle?" He holds out the pickle in his hand to the three strangers, forgetting that it's the one he just took a bite out of...
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You see a 3' tall Halfling with reddish brown hair and green eyes, dressed in fine black and green clothing with ruffles at the collar and cuffs, wearing a suede black Cavaliers hat (Think 3 Musketeers hat) with a large white feather protruding and a rapier belted at his waist observing the gathering. He strolls over and stops, bowing in the process. "Ah, Pathfinders. I too am a Pathfinder, one Mylow Metcalf at your service. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
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Spending any sunny day on deck is a rather strange "person" - looking like someone wrapped a suit of armor around a collection of thick vines that then grew mostly straight upwards through it nearly six and a half feet tall, but with limbs enough to carry a large steel shield bearing a stylized spiral upon it. On the being's other side is a very strange looking sword that appears to be able to separate into elongated segments.
Nestled at the neck of the armor is an orb, so dark purple it's almost black, flecked with tiny pinpricks of light. You can only really tell when it's looking at you because it awkwardly wears a steel helmet as part of its plate armor kit, so when it rotates some 200-degrees around to look at you, you know you have its attention.
The orb creates a pleasant hum and soft warble whenever it speaks, which hasn't been often during this voyage. It does so now, however, as everyone gathers on-deck together.
"We find this seaborne weather to be quite enjoyable. It reminds us of the place of our awakening, some years ago in Bloodcove."
"We are Standarii, and we are pleased to meet you!"
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A queasy-looking Garundi man emerges from the passenger cabins. He stops several steps out of the doorway, holding his hand to his mouth and clearly considering whether he can continue now. After gathering himself for several minutes he ultimately proceeds and approaches the others.
He is somewhat awkward when he speaks.
Hello. I'm Elsha. He looks down at the goblin's bandoliers and pats a couple of vials tucked into his own shirt.
Hey, I kn-kn-know something about those. We should compare n-notes.
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Lokoloko is startled to see a small hand reach into his pickle jar and pull out a pickle. He looks down, his beady red eyes flashing in annoyance, but then sees the girl's look of joy after eating the pickle.
"Hello. Yous like pickles? I's have better ones." His annoyance gone, the goblin pulls out another pickle jar, opens it, rummages around inside the pickle brine and pulls out another large pickle and hands it to her. He replaces the 2nd jar back in his pack, and offers the other Pathfinders the first jar (after dropping the one with the bite in it back into the brine).
"Elsha! Yous crazy potion thrower too? I's likes fire. I's like to makes things buuuurrrnn." He draws out the last word, his beady red eyes glittering with glee.
Turning back to Fae, he says "Yous stays close to me. I's keep yous safe... and gives you pickles."
"An inquisitive bunch?" Venture-Captain Muesello, who had greeted you each as you boarded the Kingfisher about a week or so ago wipes the grease off his hands onto a rag. Stuffing the dirty rag into his smock, he turns to address the group. "That's good. Just what I was hoping for. Follow me, I have something to show you."
Portrait of Muesello on Slides.
The Venture-Captain brings you over to a twelve-foot contraption mounted toward the front of the ship. You can see that the mechanist has spent the early morning assembling and running a chain through the clockwork contraption mounted on the deck.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed this isn’t just a fishing trip." he begins. "I would have filled you in sooner, but I was asked to keep everything confidential until we arrived. An expedition of Pathfinder initiates recently discovered this uncharted island, Burozi. The recruits found some Azlanti ruins, and we have a special assignment for your team.”
Muesello turns to the shore just five hundred feet from the moored ship, the peak of the island barely visible against the orange glow of the morning sun behind it. He clicks open an intricate compass, and its needle snaps to the direction of the island.
“Open your wayfinders, and you’ll see the same thing." he continues. "This close to Burozi, all wayfinders point toward the island. As for the one in my hand here, this was found on Burozi—I’ve never seen one quite like it. The expedition team found it near a sealed hatch made out of reinforced skymetal. They couldn’t get in, which might have been for the best. The recruits were inexperienced, and Azlanti devices can be incredibly dangerous!"
"But you’ve got more experience under your belts, so I need you to find a way through that sealed door and investigate whatever is on the other side,” he says, as he looks over the assembled group.
With a reassuring nod, Muesello returns to his work, meticulously
checking each bolt as crew members emerge from below and begin preparing a sailboat for passage to the island.
She then turns to the Venture Captain. Looking at that device sir, I presume you are attempting to catch something large. Would I be correct?
"That is the idea," smiles Muesello. "Ever try sea snake? Me neither, but somehow, it’s a delicacy in the senate right now. And officially? We’re just fishing. So, I brought myself this here fishing rod." He lays a dirty hand on the clockwork contraption. "No reason not to have a bit of fun with the expedition though."
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"Did the expedition team create any maps of the island and what they encountered? Any known dangers or traps? Is there anyone here that can translate Azlanti?"
While speaking, Mylow changes out of his finery and puts on explorer's clothing and leather armor. He makes sure all of his equipment is in working order and in the proper place.
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"We are decently skilled at examining most things that are magical, but most importantly can protect the rest of you during the investigation! We are excited to begin!"
Standarii makes sure their gear is set, and joins the others, trying to sit in the middle of the boat to maintain its center of gravity, with it being encased in plate armor and such.
"Did the expedition team create any maps of the island and what they encountered? Any known dangers or traps? Is there anyone here that can translate Azlanti?"
"No need for a map," Musello replies. "Use a sailboat to get to the island, then just follow a wayfinder. If you don't have one, you can take this one." The Venture-Captain hands you the wayfinder in his hand. "After a week tinkering with this thing, I still can’t get it to do more than this.”
Muesello speaks the command word and the wayfinder emits a small, green light. “Feel free to use it. You might need it. As for danger or traps, the reports didn’t mention anything dangerous, but you never know."
I do have the Comprehend Language spell so translation should be covered Celestia replies.
"Then, it would seem you are well-prepared. Good luck, Pathfinders!" Musello gives you a nod towards the waiting sailboat before turning his attention to his clockwork "fishing rod".
The trip to the island is uneventful. Following the direction provided by any wayfinder, you see the excavated ruins of a tower rise from halfway up the island’s sloping peak. Arriving there, you find that all that remains of the tower is a semi-circle of white wall holding back centuries of dirt and debris.
The skymetal hatch lies dead center in the tower’s foundation. The 5-foot-wide hatch is decorate in thin silver filigree resembling gears in the shape of an eye.
At the center of the eye is a socket that is obviously the same size and shape as the wayfinder offered by Muesello.
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Mylow looks at the design, "I have no idea as to what this represents. Perhaps we should look for traps on this device before messing around with it." He will visually inspect it looking for traps without touching. Does it appear that the socket is a locking mechanism in which inserting the Wayfinder is the key to open it?
Does it appear that the socket is a locking mechanism in which inserting the Wayfinder is the key to open it?
The wayfinder offered by the Venture-Captain begins to glow with colorful light. A woman’s voice emits from the direction of the door in an ancient language.
On the door itself, an illuminated marking appears only to be replaced by another marking, then another in a sequence. You suspect that the markings may be numbers presented in a descending sequence--like a countdown.
"Huh. Amazing." She giggles. "Once we insert the Captain's Wayfinder I'm certain something is going to happen. I'm ready."
Mylow looks to see if there is anything which can be manipulated on the hatch. Is there anything which looks to need realigning? Do the illuminated markings look magical or like a tumbler inset in the hatch?
Mylow did not spot any traps around the socket at the center of the eye. He does note that unusual silver "threads" spread out from the hatch about 100 feet in each cardinal direction before reaching panels built along the perimeter of the ruined structure. Their function, if any, is not evident to him.
The countdown continues.
When Mylow inserts the "Captain's wayfinder", it slots into the hatch and the colored light in the wayfinder activates and spreads down silver circuits 100 feet in each cardinal direction before reaching panels built along the perimeter of the ruined structure.
Despite the clear activity, the hatch remains locked shut. It is evident that the hatch is held sealed by a series of mechanisms, designed to achieve the conversion of energy into physical movements.
Four such components hold the latch shut. Each of the four contains one aeon stone and several electro-thaumaturgic fuses. Each lies in some state of disrepair or misalignment that will require attention or correction before the hatch will release.
A rough map to help visualize the area is now on Slides.
The magical energy flowing off the northmost actuator is traveling in the wrong direction.
Access to the southmost actuator is blocked.
A fuse on the easternmost actuator is broken.
The fuses on the westernmost actuator have become dislodged. Putting them back in place is a delicate operation.
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HATCH 'N A PLAN! Round One Begins!
Celestia Sol
Elsha Ustosh
Lokoloko
Mylow Metcalf
Standarii
Swayaah Maeleranti