A candied aroma wafts from multiple barrels of pyment—a beverage of fermented grapes and honey—strewn about the surprisingly barren grand hall of Manaket’s Swordmeet Lodge. At an ornate banquet table with legs carved in the stalwart forms of Rahadoumi crusaders wielding immense falchions sits the room’s lone occupant, Venture-Captain Obo. He is a broad-shouldered man wearing an olive tunic trimmed with gold filigree and sporting a puffy gray beard mottled here and there with black patches. Next to him sits a large bottle of pomegranate wine, several empty glasses, and a silver plate adorned with a half-eaten roast hen, a fig tart, and a small mound of creamy bread pudding topped with ground pistachios. Obo’s attention is clearly focused on the ornate siege board arranged as if two players had played a game into its late stages, with the monarch threatening to leave via the right edge of the board, thus winning the game for the defenders. As he stares at the pieces, Obo holds his fingers atop one of the attacking pieces, a knight carved of crimson marble, studying the placement of the defenders—white caliche castles protecting a lone sovereign. His other hand absentmindedly stirs the bread pudding with a spoon.
Venture-Captain Obo mumbles to himself while studying the siege board. "Now, if the invader moves parallel to the defender, resting in the seventh hall of the first tower, then the sovereign will be exposed to counterattack from—bah, I will never remember all of Valsin's cryptic strategies!" Obo slams his free hand down on the table, and then gestures at the open chairs before him. "Sit, sit, for our very own game is afoot. Troubling news arrived two weeks ago from one of the Society's trusted confidants, an artifacts expert and appraiser in the souk of Azir. Goes by Torvad. Torvad Shalzadin."
Obo produces a small roll of parchment, its wax seal clearly broken. "This letter indicates that Torvad had been recently asked by a client to verify the authenticity of a rare artifact. Much to his surprise, every detail about the relic indicated that the fragment is one of the shards of the Shattered Shield of Arnisant. That’s supposedly impossible; all of the remnants of the shield are kept safe in Vigil, right under the Watcher-Lord’s nose. Per reports from both the Decemvirate and the Dark Archive, no one in Lastwall suspects any of the shards are missing. Torvad reports that the shard’s current owner, a clandestine auction house for illicit divine artifacts in Azir, the Sacred Cobra, intends to sell it in just seven days! If that shard is in fact a piece of the Shattered Shield of Arnisant, we must stop such an important relic from falling into the wrong hands."
"Though it would be faster to go by sea, a rash of piracy just beyond the Arch of Aroden means reconsidering the route. I've arranged for you to go by caravan. Once you arrive, find Torvad and convince him to disclose the location of the Sacred Cobra auction house as well as the precisely time of the auction. The Cobra’s whereabouts are known only to a few major players in the artifacts trade, so you’ll need to act quickly before the shard can be sold and potentially lost forever. To even be considered as a buyer, you’ll need him to lend you his bidder’s banner, a token the Sacred Cobra uses to identify clientele considered in 'good standing' with the organization. It’s probably safest if you can acquire the shard by winning it at auction, though I trust you to do what is necessary to obtain the shard for the Society. Take this." Obo again slides his hand inside his tunic to retrieve a small bundle of parchments. "Each of these ten letters is a bank note from Manaket, good for one thousand gold pieces. Showing these to the clerk of the auction house should help establish you as a serious buyer. Use the Society’s money wisely to ensure you obtain the shard, but if you see any other artifacts on auction that might be better off in the Society’s possession, you can use these funds to obtain those as well."
|
A immaculately-groomed halfling man dressed in form-fitting clothing and an expensive-looking chain shirt has somehow collected enough cushions to sit upon to rest at a comfortable height for viewing the others gathered around the table. His eyes light up at the stack of bank notes, but he doesn’t reach for them just yet. ”And here I thought there would be no demand for my considerable talents in this godsforsaken land. Oh, my apologies, my dear Venture-Captain, I’m merely irritable about having to hide my true allegiance to the Lady of Pleasure during our stay here in Rahadoum.” He smiles charmingly, and nods pleasantly to the Red Reverend and Zim Alula. ”I imagine it’s harder on my old friends here, but fortunately I have been trained in many sorts of naughtiness beyond those my goddess demands that I share with her followers when I'm at home.” As he speaks, he produces a gold coin, tumbles it across the back of his fingers, then makes it vanish from sight just as mysteriously as it appeared. ”Well met, old friends and new. I am called Milo Nimblefingers.”
|
Theron watches the VC as he goes over the game. His pack sits in the corner, bristling with weapons. His arms and face show scars from past battles, and likely more hidden under his shirt.
Those games are good for the general...not o much for the foot soldier...the leaders some times lose sight of the battle. he says evenly.
Interesting.. he says after hearing of the mission details.
Well, this one is outside my area of expertise...but I'll do what I can...
|
|
At first, the tan skinned man looks like a human, with his hood covering his ears. His Elven features show through upon closer examination. Dapperly dressed, He speaks in a Taldan accent.
"I am Menudo, Paladin of Erastil."
He reaches up, to check his Elven Curve Blade is secured across his back. His full plate mail armor is polished and clean, at least for now.
|
Her bright red hair and short stature give away Zim's gnomish ancestry, not that she's trying to hide it. Wearing a breastplate and carrying a spear three times as long as she is, she fiddles with a large gold key around her neck as she listens to the Venture-Captain, her eyes lighting up with the prospect of money. "Greetings all, I am Zim, cleric of Abadar. It seems like I was chosen well for a mission all about money." She grins broadly and nods a greeting to the Red Reverend and Milo.
Addressing Odo, "What can you tell us about Azir? I've never been there myself."
|
An imposing human, clad head to toe in red and leaning against a wicked-looking scythe, enters the room just moments before requested by Obo. His glance lingers on Menudo, hoping there will be no repeat of the Elby Incident. He takes a seat and says gruffly to those near him, "They call me the Red Reverend," before turning to face the Venture-Captain.
He carefully looks over the bank notes. "I do not understand why you keep sending me on jobs where sending our enemies to the Boneyard is not an objective, but I will do what I can."
Addressing Odo, "What can you tell us about Azir? I've never been there myself."
With his attention still half-focused on the game in front of him, Obo tries to answer, but seems distracted. "Azir is the capital of Rahadoum! Surely you know a bit about that..."
While members of the Pure Legion have a reputation for being stalwart enforcers of the nation’s laws, they are educated, civil, and disciplined. Far from reckless killers, most members of the Pure Legion consider it their duty to protect Rahadoum’s citizens and view their vigilant adherence to the First Law as the most effective way to keep each resident safe from the strife caused by religious zealotry. Generally, most members of the Pure Legion resort to violence only if left with no other choice.
"See, I told you you knew all you needed to." He grins as he diverts his attention from the game, proud of his familiar encouragement as he sees you all share what you remember of Rahadoum and its capital city. "Before I give this my full attention again," he says, indicating the game, "was there anything else I can answer for you?"
|
A muscular human woman sets down her pack and weapons for the meeting, keeping a dagger at her belt. Her white hair falls to her shoulders, though the jet-black roots poking from her scalp belie its true color. She stands still during the venture-captain's briefing, as one might who's accustomed to waiting on a superior. She avoids making eye contact with the Red Reverend, not even when he speaks to the group.
"What else can you tell us about the true shield? Is there any way for us to tell if the shard might be a fake?"
"What else can you tell us about the true shield? Is there any way for us to tell if the shard might be a fake?"
"The origins of the shield are shrouded in mystery. Some believe that the god Aroden carried it when he was a mortal, while others claim that it was fashioned by Aroden after he became a god. The Taldan general Arnisant carried the shield during the Shining Crusade, and it was instrumental in defeating the Whispering Tyrant—that’s when it shattered. It is possible that even a fragment of the shield could be dangerous if used for nefarious ends!"
"Faking an artifact of such import would be a difficult task indeed, and while the auction house is clandestine, we also believe it to be legitimate. Accidentally purchasing a fake is not something the Society believes to be a concern."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Uh...are you sure you want to send three *clerics* and a *paladin* to Rahadoum? How are we supposed to function in a place where it's illegal to follow a god's commands?" Zim looks distressed at the idea of a place so illogical.
"You’d be wise not to carry any items of contraband such as holy symbols or religious artifacts into the city, as it’s certain the Pure Legion will search you all before entering the city. Members of the Pure Legion are Rahadoum's primary peacekeeping force, primarily charged with enforcing the nation’s First Law, which prohibits religion in any form."
"The Society trusts that its agents read the adventure synopsis before signing up can handle themselves in all sorts of situations; we leave concealing your divine symbols and magics up to your discretion."
|
|
"I can simply prepare spells that don't require my Lady's symbol, and be sneaky about where and when I use them," Milo says, sighing a little. "What are the laws regarding wands? Priests aren't the only healers, after all. And how are Pathfinders viewed here? Would a wayfinder draw any unwanted attention to us? Relying on torchlight is so...menial."
"Nothing prohibits the use of arcane magic; the use of a wand in general should be safe--and a wayfinder is perfectly fine--though I'd be cautious about using divine spells from any source in the open, if I were you."
|
|
"I'm afraid that a healing potion doesn't say whether it was created with a god's touch or not. The Pure Legion might strike first and ask questions later. Of course, if we can be subtle about it, that might help." She looks down at her shiny armor and the rather extravagant silk robes beneath them. "Subtle may be the issue."
Zim collects a few objects and tucks them gently into a pouch. "Is anyone good at carrying things stealthily? I would rather not go unprepared, but I also don't want to cause trouble getting into Azir."
|
|
"Fortunately, my patron actively encourages trickery among Her followers," Milo replies, smirking. "Though, if I recall, Zim here has more of a silver tongue than I do. She gives off a more, ah, trustworthy aura than I do, I suppose." He winks impudently at the gnome cleric. "But I can try to smuggle in some things, if they're small enough. Hmm...I don't suppose anyone has anything enchanted with an extradimensional space, do they? They're a bit beyond my means, as yet."
|
|
Zim raises an elegantly shaped eyebrow at Milo. "I can't imagine why folks don't trust you. Might be those wandering fingers of yours." She smiles faintly, then frowns in thought. "Menudo has a point though. In my professional life outside the society, I'm a banker and can honestly answer that question. Introducing yourself as a thief on the other hand isn't likely to win you any favors. Do you have a believable story to tell?"
Turning to the venture captain again, "Is the Pathfinder Society persona non grata in Rahadoum? Should we be "undercover" assuming some of us can manage that?"
Turning to the venture captain again, "Is the Pathfinder Society persona non grata in Rahadoum? Should we be "undercover" assuming some of us can manage that?"
"Oh, no; no need for that. We have fine relations with Rahadoum; you're standing in a Lodge in Rahadoum right now! We operate openly; there's no trouble." His eyes linger on the board in front of him as he continues, his hand hovering over a game piece.
"Of course... it's never advantageous to reveal too much about yourself during an auction, so I would keep our name out of it while you're bidding. But that's not due to any trouble with the authorities; that's just good strategy!" She shakes his head and draws his hand back, still unsure of what his next move should be.
|
|
”I can avoid being seen when I wish. Smuggling or deceit, less so. But it sounds like we have someone who can hide your icons if you need them.” Iladora glances at the various holy symbols being worn and carried, sparing only the slightest glance for the death’s head moth before looking pointedly away. Was that a shudder that just ran up her spine?
She nods familiarly at the venture-captain’s suggestion. ”Operational security, friends. If they don’t need to know, don’t tell them.”
|
|
Milo chuckles appreciatively at Zim's rejoinder, and gives her a slight, sitting bow. "'Professional companion' is probably the closest that I dare claim to my true calling in this nation...thought perhaps 'discreet bodyguard' would be more acceptable to most."
He nods in agreement with the venture-captain's reply about not over-sharing, and Iladora's response.
From his comments so far, Milo's Calistrian affiliation should be obvious to any student of religion, but he is is either not wearing a divine focus, or is keeping it well-hidden. He seems unperturbed by Urgathoa's symbol, but it's also clear that he's already familiar with the Red Reverend.
Zim wanders over to look at the board. "What are you playing?"
"Seige, of course! Each year some of the venture-captains meet to have a siege tournament, and that sneaky bastard Valsin has won the last three. I don’t care about winning the purse, it’s about besting him in front of everyone else! Now, if only I can recall his damnable strategy from the last time he won."
Manaket lies approximately 225 miles east of Azir. The trip--by camel, at about 40 miles per day--is expected to take about 6 days. While the caravan offers protection from most of the dangers of the journey, a violent electrical dust storm catches the caravan while it is still just 2 days out from Manaket. The caravan circles to wait out the storm.
You hear--somewhere out in the storm, the sound of a mule braying, accompanied by what sounds like the clanging of a sword on shield--but not in the rhythm of a combat, more like an alarm.
It sounds to you like someone out in the storm has run out of breath, and is choking on the swirling sands.