Pathfinder! You've received word of an urgent mission briefing to be held in Trail's End, a small community just across the river from Korvosa. Amidst the ramshackle houses and Varisian trail wagons, an old shop has been turned into a discrete location for your briefing. The Venture-Captain hasn't arrived yet.
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Jaïr is a petite woman in simple black dress, who highlights her silhouette, with a strange belt with a devil's head that seems to looks at you... She had pale complexion but her charming smile and her simple green make-up make her immediately friendly. At her side, a short sword and several wands.
Around her neck a strange pendant with ancient osiriani designs. The tip of her fingers are lightly blackened by ink, as if she have passed several time in libraries, copying or scribing books.
Korvosa, city of devils... we are already doomed to fail.
Greetings, I'm Jaïr Whisper. Good to see you Khellek.
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Khellek offers Jair a short bow. "Good day to you Ms Whisper."
His weak eyes drift not to her more obvious form, but rather to her ink stained fingers. "Oh gods be praised. Finally another scholar!" he says, relief in his voice.
"The society keeps telling me they need my expertise and then instead of sending me to a library, pick a sewer or haunted keep."
He pauses for a moment. "Which would of course be more likely to get me on the front of the Chronicles..."
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"Is this the right place? the Shoanti asked as he entered the old shop. Greetings everyone I am called Two Blades in the Shadows he said looking over the others. The short and lankly human wore a cloak to cover over his bald head with a haversack strapped to his back. A rapier and short sword were attached to his belt and he wore a fine pair of boots. On the back of his right hand, a birthmark in the shape of a butterfly could be seen.
As he looked closer, he saw a face that he recognized " Khellek! Long time no see since we were at Bloodcove. How have you been doing? he asked.
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The elderly scholar tips his hat to TBitD and Grog.
"Gentlemen. It would seem my recent missives have been relegated to pages seven and eleven of the chronicles. While that ne'er-do-well Dr Jones has his face plastered all over the cover. His 'discoveries'..." fumes the scholar "Would be enhanced I believe by a better wardrobe, as each time he appears to be showing off more flesh than the previous one. And I thought the Chronicles were a serious academic publication. This most recent editor appears to have been plucked from the popular press"
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A small gnome walks around the corner of a curio cabinet and glares up at the group. Her nostrils flare, "Pathfinders I assume? It would be absurd to come upon a varied group such as yourselves talking in such a friendly manner otherwise. Apparently my current exploration of the wilds here was a benefit, or something. So they asked me to join as well. Anyway, my given name is Lini but everyone calls me Kaya on missions."
Slinking around her legs is a big (medium-sized) bodied, long eared lynx, "Droog here only bites those I tell her to."
She sits on the floor comfortably and takes out a small bundle of sticks. After a quick count she seems to hold each one for a bit and focus on it before putting it down. When she has looked at them all they get rebound and put back securely in her pack.
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The dwarf is broad-shouldered and bearded, carrying a flagon of ale and a massive rune-carved waraxe.
A discrete location? How dull.
He quietly introduces himself, toning down his usual gregariousness. "Greetings, friends, in Cayden's name. I am Kavor Doan, warrior, wizard, diplomat, and merchant."
"Ah, good, fellow scholars... good, good. Since that responsibility seems well taken care of. I will focus on hitting things with my axe."
You get the sense that, while Kavor Doan has studied enough to cast spells, he is not all that much of a scholar. He seems positively relieved at there being other studious types along.
"Grog, is it? I am happy to make your acquaintance. We shall hit things with axes together."
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Jair smiles at Khellec. You can call me a scholar, yes. But I'm more than that. I'm here to be sure that none of you will be killed by something and to patch your wounds if needed. The secret of Life and Death are safe with me... even if our mission is doomed to fail.
She turns to other and says Greetings. Glad to make your acquaintance.
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"Well!" says a pleased looking scholar.
"That is a pleasant change. Normally I have to patch up the various students who are assigned to me. Having someone who is a specialist in the area will be very welcome."
"My area of specialty is in History, but I've made a broad study of many areas over my years."
The door to the run-down shop swings open and a middle-aged, armored man enters. You all recognise Sir Canayven Heidmarch, a retired adventurer who, along with his wife, established the first permanent Pathfinder Society presence in Varisia by turning their manor in Magnimar into a lodge. He nods brusquely at you and then, without preamble or greeting, launches into an explanation of your mission.
“The Blakroses are among the oldest and most influential families in Absalom,” he begins. “We’ve built a good relationship with them, but in doing so we’ve inherited a few of their enemies, namely a shadowy group of power-mongers who call themselves the Onyx Alliance. The Blakroses recently contacted the Society with intelligence about the Onyx Alliance’s movements, and it seems they’re set on breaking into a particularly ancient barrow mound in northern Nidal. Normally, we wouldn’t worry too much about amateur tomb robbers in such a dangerous area, but apparently they’re prepared to recover a potent relic from inside. They’ve some plot to use whatever this ancient talisman is against that Blakros family--and probably against us as well.”
“It’s rare that we get a promising lead in Nidal, and the prospect of earning more good will with the Blakroses is even better. The barrows are thought to contain graves dating all the way back to the Age of Darkness, and the Society has very little information about the mysterious ‘horselord’ ancestors of the modern Nidalese people.”
“Luckily we have contacts within the Whispered Song, a group of Desna worshipers who work against the local government in Nidal. Agents of the Whispered Song have been tracking the Onyx Alliance, and believe these grave robbers are close to discovering the entrance of a tomb they call the Cairn of Shadows. If we move quickly, we should be able to get you into Nidal and in touch with the Whispered Song in time to catch up with the Onyx Alliance and prevent them from acquiring this relic. And if you can learn something about the ancient tribal people of Nidal in the process, so much the better.”
Canayven leans in, his expression becoming even more serious. “Nidal is a perilous destination and one where we’re not welcome. I don’t mind some subtle heroics, but I’d refrain from any particularly overt displays of gallantry if you want to come back alive. If you attract too much attention in Nidal, there’s no chance we’ll be able to help if you’re captured, or worse.”
“I know a member of the Whispered Song who frequents the Broken Cup, a rather morose tavern in Nisroch. He should know how to lead you to where in the Onyx Alliance is searching for the Cairn of Shadows. He’s also prepared to help you avoid tangling with the local authorities. I can get you on a ship there in an hour, after which I leave you to meet with him with all haste. From there, I’m trusting your resourcefulness. Explore, report, cooperate, and secure whatever treasure the Onyx Alliance is after. The risk is significant, but so is the danger if the Onyx Alliance acquires what they’re looking for.”
After listening to Sir Canayven's remarks, the Pathfinders think about what they've heard.
And as for the Blakros family and its connection with the Pathfinder Society, why, wasn't it just months ago you were asked to write a learned dissertation on the subject for the Grand Lodge's library? The Blakros family is a powerful matriarchy that made its fortune smuggling goods and secrets between Qadira and Taldor since the early 41st century A.R. and by using its daughters’ marriages to form powerful alliances. Until a few years ago, the dark secret to the Blakros family’s success was a tenuous alliance with denizens of the Shadow Plane, specifically an organization called the Onyx Alliance, who received the service of the first Blakros daughter born into each generation. This practice ended in 4710, when the Pathfinder Society interceded, destroying the contract that enforced this terrible tradition before the twin daughters of this generation were taken away. The Onyx Alliance retaliated during the Grand Convocation of the Pathfinder Society in 4712, but the Pathfinders were able to defeat the fetchling-led invasion. Ever since, the Onyx Alliance has licked its wounds, rebuilt its holdings, and sought a new advantage. The Blakros family has maintained spies in the Onyx Alliance in the interest of self-defense. These spies recently reported that the organization is on the verge of uncovering a powerful magic item in the Barrowmoor. Concerned that the Onyx Alliance may turn this minor artifact on the Blakros family and its allies Hamaria, the matriarch of the family, has shared the discovery with the Pathfinder Society. Society leadership has agreed to send a team of Pathfinders to intercept the Alliance agents, hoping both to keep the discovery out of Onyx Alliance hands as well as to document the mysterious Barrowmoor cairns.
And as for the Blakros family, the Dark Archive has long been intrigued by the possibilities. The Blakros family is a powerful matriarchy that made its fortune smuggling goods and secrets between Qadira and Taldor since the early 41st century A.R. and by using its daughters’ marriages to form powerful alliances. Until a few years ago, the dark secret to the Blakros family’s success was a tenuous alliance with denizens of the Shadow Plane, specifically an organization called the Onyx Alliance, who received the service of the first Blakros daughter born into each generation. This practice ended in 4710, when the Pathfinder Society interceded, destroying the contract that enforced this terrible tradition before the twin daughters of this generation were taken away. The Onyx Alliance retaliated during the Grand Convocation of the Pathfinder Society in 4712, but the Pathfinders were able to defeat the fetchling-led invasion. Ever since, the Onyx Alliance has licked its wounds, rebuilt its holdings, and sought a new advantage. The Blakros family has maintained spies in the Onyx Alliance in the interest of self-defense. These spies recently reported that the organization is on the verge of uncovering a powerful magic item in the Barrowmoor. Concerned that the Onyx Alliance may turn this minor artifact on the Blakros family and its allies Hamaria, the matriarch of the family, has shared the discovery with the Pathfinder Society. Society leadership has agreed to send a team of Pathfinders to intercept the Alliance agents, hoping both to keep the discovery out of Onyx Alliance hands as well as to document the mysterious Barrowmoor cairns.
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The druid begins to comment, ”Horsemen? That sounds inter…”
And then is drowned out by the scholars spewing knowledge at the group.
Eventually, after the (probably) three hour lecture, she gets a word in, ”Mr Venture Captain Sir, could you tell us more about our contact? It seems we shouldn’t talk to the wrong people so that may be important.”
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Khellek clears his throat and begins to speak. In a surpringly engaging way, actually.
"As any apprentice historian knows, before Earthfall Nidal was inhabited by tribal peoples often referred to as horselords. After Earthfall ushered in the Age of Darkness, many of these tribes made a bargain with Zon-Kuthon. They offered to loyally serve and worship the Midnight Lord, in return for his protection. Those chieftains who opposed this bargain were brutally suppressed, paving the way for thousands of years of Kuthite control over that land. The horselord tribes buried their dead in Barrowmoor, a rocky region in the north of Nidal."
"I have come across passing mention that local tradition forbids exploring the cairns of the Barrowmoor, but tomb robbers sometimes discover vast riches in ancient burial mounds--as well as traps and ancient curses. Interestingly, locals claim the exact number of cairns within the Barrowmoor changes, making it impossible to properly explore or map."
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As for the Blakros family, the Blakros family is a powerful matriarchy that made its fortune smuggling goods and secrets between Qadira and Taldor since the early 41st century A.R. and by using its daughters’ marriages to form powerful alliances.
Until a few years ago, the dark secret to the Blakros family’s success was a tenuous alliance with denizens of the Shadow Plane, specifically an organization called the Onyx Alliance, who received the service of the first Blakros daughter born into each generation. This practice ended in 4710, when we, the Pathfinder Society, interceded, destroying the contract that enforced this terrible tradition before the twin daughters of this generation were taken away.
The Onyx Alliance retaliated during the Grand Convocation of the Pathfinder Society in 4712, but the Pathfinders were able to defeat the fetchling-led invasion. Ever since, the Onyx Alliance has licked its wounds, rebuilt its holdings, and sought a new advantage. I know that the Blakros family has maintained spies in the Onyx Alliance in the interest of self-defense. These spies recently reported that the organization is on the verge of uncovering a powerful magic item in the Barrowmoor.
Concerned that the Onyx Alliance may turn this minor artifact on the Blakros family and its allies Hamaria, the matriarch of the family, has shared the discovery with us and the Society leadership has agreed to send a team of Pathfinders, that's us, to intercept the Alliance agents, hoping both to keep the discovery out of Onyx Alliance hands as well as to document the mysterious Barrowmoor cairns.
Added Jair after a nod to Khellek.
Sir Canayven nods at Kaya. "Yes, excellent question. I'm glad to see some of you are paying attention instead of showing off! His name is Golbrier Frosh. A skittish sort of man, but given that he works for Desna in the joy-hating nation of Nidal, his bravery cannot be questioned.”
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Two Blades shrugged his shoulders as he listened to Khellek and Jair talk about what they know. The notion of meeting followers of the Song of the Spheres filled his heart with join that they will be aiding them, causing his attention to wander.
"Golbrier Frosh. Human, elf?" he asked Sir Canayven
"Looks like I may have to pick up some supplies before we depart" he said as wrapped things up.
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Kavor Doan nods along as Khellek explains everything about Nidal.
"Yes, yes, I concur... indeed..."
After a while, his attention begins to wander and he stops chiming in. He fidgets with his axe, the eldritch energy of Arcane Strike crackling across the blade.
When the explanations are done, he has another question for Sir Canayven.
"Ah, you mentioned that tomb robbing is discouraged by native custom... but then in many cases it seems to be what the Society expects us to do. So if I may ask for some clarity - does the Society wish us to recover any other objects from the cairns, or to leave them be?"
The Venture-Captain replies to Two Blades' question: "Golbrier is human, as are most of the inhabitants of Nidal--apart from the shadow-touched, that is. And as for . . . ahem . . . tomb robbing", he says, turning to look at Kavor, "secure whatever the Onyx Alliance is after. If you find something else of historical value in this 'Cairn of Shadows', it'll be better off in our hands than in theirs."
Canayven shakes his head in reply to Khellek's question. "You'll have to locate the Broken Cup and then Golbrier once you get to Nidal. I'm afraid I can't be any more precise than that." He raises an eyebrow at Jair's question. "To clarify, I expect you to be circumspect and discreet. Leave no witnesses because they never noticed you, not because you've slain them all. If you do attract attention, I’d recommend running and hiding. Get out of the city quickly. You don’t want to call what passes for law in the place down on your heads. The Silent Enforcers are not to be trifled with, as being arrested in Nidal is, quite literally, a fate worse than death.”
"Now, if that is all," says Sir Canayven, "you had best be on your way. Good luck, and be careful."
Leaving the run-down shop and following Sir Canayven's directions to Korvosa's docks, you find the ship he promised waiting for you. Indeed, he's even booked individual berths and and meals in the captain's stateroom!
My Precious Ally,
My vantage in Korvosa has granted me a unique opportunity to listen in on the Society’s business, which more and more often aligns with our own. Nidal has long been the ally of Cheliax, and the worshipers of Zon-Kuthon seem most adept at ingratiating themselves with their Chelish
friends and gathering power that might one day threaten House Thrune.
Despite what my detractors claim, I am ill acquainted with the Kuthites’ practices, yet the power they command is most alluring. While you are in Nidal, stay alert for any way we might better learn some measure of their infamous techniques. The juicier the secret you can recover the
better--so long as the price doesn’t seem too high.
Safe travels,
Zarta Dralneen
Droog pounces at the vanishing tail of a street rat as they head to the boat. She doesn't look happy at her failure.
After some fortuitously uneventful days at sea, Nisroch can be seen in the distance even through the dusk and seemingly-constant drizzle of rain that greets your approach.
For thousands of years, Nisroch, the Maw of Shadow, has stood as the ominous guardian and chilling embodiment of a shrouded nation whose people have lived through centuries of servitude to the Midnight Lord.
Perched upon the jagged shores at the mouth of the mighty Usk, its cruel spires of basalt and iron lash upward against churning clouds like the ebon fangs of a great venomous serpent. The river divides the city, tearing a gaping hole through the rocky bluffs and vomiting into the open waters as if eating its way free from the shadowed lands beyond. It stands precise, oppressive, and unyielding, encased in the armor of looming black walls, salt-crusted and stained with rust.
After the ship’s captain pays a considerable harbor fee to dock, he orders the gangplank lowered and looks at you with sympathy, as if watching sheep being led to the slaughter.
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Kavor Doan wears his armor, with his axe on his back.
He walks quietly off the ship.
"To the Broken Cup, then. Shall we ask around for directions?"
If the party agrees to that plan, he will ask around, though putting on the demeanor of a gruff and tired dwarf rather than a gregarious Caydenite.
"Looking for a drink. Heard the Broken Cup is the place to go."
The dockside laborers look startled and initially blink in confusion as Kavor's words suddenly pierce the audible monotony of lapping waves, creaking ropes, and hollow footsteps. One of the men, his eyes downcast as if afraid to look you in the face, points in one direction and you can just barely hear him whisper "Southbank".
You soon find your way to the Southbank district of the city, an area failing to conceal the poverty of those who live there; the few people you pass on the street are silent, stoic, and walk with their heads lowered, as if their spirits are as dour as the weather.
Nor is there anything bright or cheerful about the Broken Cup. The walls of the tavern are worn gray and the furniture drab brown. There are few lights, with the brightest lantern sitting by the stairs that presumably lead to rooms upstairs. Here, there is no singing, no laughter, and no real sign that the tavern even welcomes its customers. Those who linger here mostly mind their food and themselves, going out of their way not to make eye contact.
However, there is one soul in jovial spirits: sitting at the bar is a woman with a pair of kukris at her belt; she laughs, downs a drink, and shouts “A toast—to me!”; those sitting next to her nod and grimace.
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Kaya does not leave the cabin during the whole trip, subsisting on anything her teammates bring her to eat or her own rations. You aren’t sure if it is sea sickness or simply concern about a massively open expanse of water. Maybe even something else!
She happily darts off the boat when it docks though, heading quickly into the disgusting city. Grumbling something about ‘why can’t we ever go on a nice tree identifying mission’, the gnome nevertheless follows the group into the bar. She tells Droog to guard the old man and then moves up with Two Blades to check out the oddity.