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Each of our pathfinder agents receives a missive in the middle of the night, waking them from their much deserved rest, after trudging around the Absalom sewers for a time. This missive directs them to board a small sailing vessel docked at the far end, which is bound for Oppara, Taldor, within the hour!
Once in Oppara they are to head to the Rods and Reels, the local Pathfinder Society lodge's bait and tackle shop cover identity, and meet with Venture-Captain Muesello for further instructions.
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Urk hears the grunt, looking up from his mostly masticated piece of meat, bits of it hanging from his mouth and tusks. Seeing the elf, Urk brightens up a little bit, snooting and grunting in an obvious sign of remembrance and perhaps joy.
Urk touches the missive laying next to him with his snout, pushing it slightly on the ground, then goes back to eating.
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Lugrok looks upward from his work hearing the rough voice. With a simple nod, he pushes his work into his bag and hefts it upon his back. His meaty fingers grip the haft of a nicely made but well used great axe which ends up over one shoulder. He looks to the rest, then grunts and makes his way toward the boat.
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Urk looks up from his raw meal, his face squishing just slightly from the scritches. A long line of drool and meat hangs from his lower lips, just below a tusk, as he sees the little two legger friend once more.
Little friend is back! Talks a lot. Makes Lugrok laugh though. Good friend!
Urk then hears the familiar grunt from Lugrok. Looking up, he sees the ork prepping his way to leave, and follows suit, albeit with less things needing to be borne. As he watches the ork head toward a boat, Urk stop and stares for a moment.
Wait. Water? Is this bath time?
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”Then what er ye wait’n for? Hurry ’board b’fore ‘tis gittn ta be dawn!” With a wave of a hand that appears to be short a couple digits, the party are motioned to come aboard.
With what little light is present, the ship appears to have seen its share of time in service. A few sections of recently repaired railings and stairs contrast the otherwise beaten condition of the vessel. “Dun worry, may not look it, but Oppara’s an easy run for us. An hour give er take…” the man says with a grin, a couple of teeth missing.”Name’s Blanchard, captain of this here fine vessel. An’ you all are…?” he says resting his gaze on each member of the party, for a few moments each, in turn.
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”I am Gronak of Clan Kranum.” The brutish Kellid gives him a firm and hearty handshake. He is now donning heavy plate mail and what appears to be shiny new great sword. ”I have already travelled far from the lands of old Sarkoris to learn the ability to channel powerful magic and save my people from the demonic plague of the Worldwound. One hour on this fine ship will not hinder my progress!”
He turns to his companions, ”Hail friends! It has been long, but I am happy to say that I am now a Wizard.
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Urk watches his ork friend shakes hands, then takes his cue to step up, grunting and squealing his greeting to the human. He bristles outwardly, the tough and stiff hair rising along his hackles as he showed off his physique.
After a moment, Urk lets it down, and then trots in a circle, sitting after a few steps with a large "thunk" sound, tongue lolling out to the front, a small trail of drool hanging off it, as he panted and waited for what to do next.
They will all know me! The fearless Urk! I will be more than famous! IN FAMOUS!
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Blanchard nods towards Ver'Yanion, "Tis a pleasure t' help Pathfinders, though you seem a bit tired, p'haps ya car' ta grab a wink on a bunk below deck?" Returning the firm handshake from Gronak,
"Quite th' grip on ye an say'n yur learnin' some magic, dangerous combinitin, fir th' demons tha'is!"Blanchard says with a laugh.
Moving to take Lugrok's handshake, Blanchard sees Urk move up, squealing and " 's it parade'n around? Ah, no matter, tis likely not know'n what comes later." "Huh" He responds in kind.
"Now t'ers a cheerful one!" He says as he greets Wrofyx with a smile, which is missing a few teeth.
"Welcome 'board! Twas told t' be quick gettin' ya across, so git yerselves settled below and we'll be off"
As promised, about an hour later, the ship arrives in Taldor's harbor, closest to Oppara.
After the ship has been tied off, "We're 'ere. Good luck on, well, wha' eva ya got ta do. Oh, yer sposed to knock 3 times fast, 3 times slow, and 3 times fast again, ta git in." Blanchard says, with a questionably upbeat tone.
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The ork hefts his gear on his shoulder, gently patting Urks head after the boat ride. He knows his little friend doesnt like these things, but it was the only safe, and quick, way here.
He looks about, seeing if he can find the store front they are supposed to go to, and will head that way once seen.
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No. No no no no no. Why did I agree to this?
Urk lurched and tossed as the boat would ride the waves. The normally brown and tan colored boar looked sea-green for most of the travel. With a sudden, eye widening, look, Urk rushed to the side and let loose what food he had that morning.
...when did I have corn?
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With his strong, and now a bit magically augmented, constitution, as well as plenty of time on boats on his way to the inner sea, Gronak seemed very comfortable with the trip. If not forced below, he found a clear space near the bow to relax and enjoy the view along their journey. He exited the boat at least as refreshed as his peers, greater so than some.
”Well friends, who knows their way about this city and can direct us to our destination?”
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"Rod's and Reel's you say?" Responds one of the locals nearby. "I dont believe the shops on the opposite end of the harbor are open
at this late an hour, but if that's where ya want to go..." he motions towards the far side. "Shouldn't take you long to cross to it."
Ver'yanion's nose wrinkles with the mixed scent of humans and aquatic harvestings piled in barrels around, scrolling through his mind for
recollection about Oppara. Hearing the conversation with Gronak, he looks towards the indicated region, pauses, and nods in agreement.
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Gronak ends the spell on his sword, shrouding the party again with the darkness of night. He sheaths the blade on his back, a highly inefficient method of storage, but one that seems to come naturally to the skilled warrior with magical aptitude.
The Kellid gives Ver’Yanion a single nod, entering the building unless halted by his companion.
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As Gronak looks around, he sees only his companions in the immediate vicinity. Moments later there is a click at the door, through which partially opened, a humanoid hand stretches forth, it's hand and finger curling back in a beckoning gesture. It then returns inside.
A small amount of light creeps out from the now opened door, emanating from an oil lamp beyond, shadows float along the surfaces as the single flame wavers against the varied boxes, nets, and other supplies scattered about inside.
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The interior looks quite haphazard, boxes stacked precariously, nets hanging from walls and ceiling, and the strong scent of fish permeates the interior of this building. After quickly locking the door again, moving to sit down behind a small desk, a middle aged human male, ruddy-skinned and pockmarked face greets you with a hushed tone.
”Thank you for coming on such short notice, Pathfinders. My name is Musello, Venture-Captain of this small lodge. Let me bring you up to speed. It seem I may have gotten myself, and by extension the Society, into a bit of hot water.” He looks over each of you briefly and continues, ”You see, lately the Taldan government has been growing particularly protective of what it considers its national treasures. Grand Prince Stavian seems to have taken a personal interest in anything older than last week’s fish stew, imposing heavy tariffs on any antiquities being sent out of the country.”
He sighs, some of his greying hair falling out of place as his shoulders slump. ”This is where my own idiocy comes in. I thought that I could save the Society a few pieces of gold by smuggling items out of the city, using my contacts in a secret cult of local Sarenites known as the Dawnflower Blossoms. They receive significant support from people in Qadira, and oversee regular shipments to and from Katheer.”
”Everything went very smoothly until last night. A group of local guards known as the Porthmos Militia conducted a violent raid on one of the cult’s safe houses here. A man named Chalfon Dalsine, a minor noble, once a pathfinder in his youth, led the attack. This gang slaughtered half the members present, even those that didn’t fight back. A few were able to escape, the rest were slain or captured for interrogation.”
An even deeper sigh escapes and he looks down at his desk. ”Quite a tragedy for sure, but utmost import are some packages I had recently given to them for transport. Amongst these include some coded documents that can’t make their way into the hands of the Lion Blades. If that happens…” He looks back up at the party. ”The Society is in a very delicate place at the moment, especially here in Taldor. The upheavals caused by the Shadow Lodge have only made things worse. If the government tracks those packages back to me, they may formally expel all Pathfinders from the countr…”
BANG, BANG, BANG! ”Open this door!” A strong, female voice bellows from outside the door. ”This is the Porthmos Militia. Open this door now, in the name of Grand Prince Stavian!”
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”I….I need to find the key!”Musello calls out, sounding like he’s a tired, older man. As he places his finger to his lips, he motions for the party to come closer, he knocks over some boxes, sliding stuff across the table.
In a whisper, ”Ten of the escaped Dawnflower Blossoms members are hiding here in the lodge.” He points upstairs, ”I was able to rescue them after the raid.” He knocks over some hay bales, revealing a trap door, ladder descending into darkness.
”You’ve got to get them out of here!” He pleads, pointing into the darkness. ”There’s a staircase further in the basement that leads to some ancient catacombs under the city. At the bottom of those stairs is a lever on the right, just a few feet down from the connecting corridor. Pull that once all are passes the staircase and it will collapse behind you. That should keep anyone from following. Ask the cultists for directions to the Vault of Sarenrae-it’s their last hiding place. Oh, and track down this Chalfon Dalsine, see if you can find my parcels: two beautiful sets of armor created by the fey of the Verduran Forest. Last I heard, the Porthmos Militia had taken them to the Dalsine’s home.”
The pounding on the door increases, ”We don’t want to have to break the door down, old man, hurry up!” The female’s voice outside growing annoyed. ”Yes, yes, I heard you!” Musello responds, ”I’ve got to find a candle.” Whispering to the party again,”I’ll try to hold them off, please get the others out safely, and try not to kill any of the guards as that would spell doom for the Society! They are acting on orders from the Grand Prince himself!”
Gronak
Lugrok
Urk
Ver’Yanion
Wrofyx
Musello 10
Guards
Guard Captain