An Aldori swordlord who fought alongside Pathfinders years ago is looking for a way to push her students harder. She issues a challenge to Marcos Farabellus, the Master of Swords, boasting that her most promising young pupils can defeat any Marcos has trained. She stakes her pride as a teacher and a powerful weapon she used during the Fifth Crusade on the outcome. Marcos both believes such a relic, taken to the very heart of the Worldwound, would be an excellent addition to the Society's vaults and that the PCs are the perfect students on which to stake his own pride. The PCs must do their utmost to justify the faith he has placed in them and win a great victory-- and perhaps a new ally-- for the Pathfinder Society.
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The sun shines brightly as one of many river boats finishes its glide up the East Sellen and pulls alongside one of the docks that lie along the riverbank. Among the numerous passengers that eagerly wait to disembark are the six of you, Pathfinder agents from various locations and walks of life. And there, waiting on the dock, is the one that sent for you - Marcos Farabellus, the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Swords.
As you make your way off of the boat, he calls out to you in a booming voice. "Ah, agents! So very good to see you! Welcome to Restov. I hope your journey wasn’t too bothersome. This time of year the mosquitoes on the Sellen can be worse than falling face first and buck naked into a patch of poison ivy." Marcos punctuates his own jest with a bellowing laugh. "Let’s get you all a bit freshened up before I get to the heart of the matter."
Marcos wastes no time in leading you away from the docks to a nearby street vendor that’s doing brisk business selling fried fish and vegetables. "Hello there! A portion of whatever they want for each of my friends here, please. Oh and a skewer of crayfish for myself."
Once everyone has had a chance to place their order, you have a few minutes to eat and chat among yourselves before Marcos explains the reason behind your summons to Restov.
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A four foot dirty porcelean doll climbs up onto the stool. The eyes shimmer and gleam in the dim lighting as her face shows lines and cracks all throughout from age. The doll wears a tattered and old victorian dress that expands out bigger and bigger around the feet as a matching stained bow is in her curled bond hair, along with a few cobwebs from storage.
She hooks a broken toy horse leg onto the stool support to help get her to the much higher ground. "That's better." Her porcelean head jerks around on a broken socket to look at the Master of Swords revealing a sizable hole in the side of her head allowing you to look into the hollow cavity. She sets Moondust's leg onto the table. "Berries please." Her voice seems to echo slightly.
She munches on the berres while she waits. How she digests them nobody will know but they leave a dark red and blue stain across her chin and part of her cheek where they slowly leak while she chews.
She kicks her legs back and forth in the air excitedly while she waits for others to join the table.
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A half-orc human in his dark-brown hooded cloak arrives and joins the others. He is somewhat reserved and just listens to the conversation, though he still speaks when needed. "I am Gilgamesh," he introduces and gives them a courteous bow. He receives whatever food he is given and eats silently.
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Blub
More closely resembling a set of oddly connected sacks of lumpy flesh than a person Squish communicates surprisingly eloquently for a creature with no discernable mouth.
"Squish here, ready to help blub."
Squish actually takes some vegetables and shoves them between several folds in a disgusting manner that only a goblin might truly appreciate.
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A elderly Mwangi man of nearly eighty and wearing very colorful robes spends quite some time carefully examining the vendor's wares before finally selecting a plate of sautéed eels. "It so hard to decide. It all looks quite delicious. Good day my friends. I am Olombe and it will be my pleasure to travel with you and impart the wisdom that I have accumulated over the decades."
He takes a big bite from his plate and makes some delighted 'mmm' noises. "Ah, this reminds me of the excellent meals of my homeland. Eels such as this were first caught and eaten there you know."
He takes another bite before launching into his tale. "This I have heard, and heard once more, and so I think it true. Long ago when the world was still young and many animals did not yet have their names, Nana Anadi was washing her clothes at the riverside..." He goes on to tell a long and humorous tale about how Nana Anadi accidentally caught the first eel in her underclothes while washing them and later gave him his name.
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A black-cloaked figure strides down the pier, following the others. Upon reaching the vendor, a gloved hand reaches up to remove the cloak's hood, revealing a being of pale-blue skin, which is translucent enough to display a series of interconnected silver and gold lines beneath it. The strange, integrated markings faintly resemble tattoos. Though they display a sort of mathematical beauty, the markings do not correspond to any known form of writing or arcane rune.
“My designation is 7019090072452414749257838637412586730286754309.” The android informs the vendor of his name although the vendor almost certainly didn't ask. “However, I understand that most humanoids tend to prefer brevity to precision. Therefore, you may refer to me as ‘Sev’.”
“Query: What manner of sustenance do you possess within your inventories?" he asks the vendor.
"Er...right..." the vendor responds, seemingly caught a little off-guard by your rather eclectic group. "Ah, as you can see," he gestures to those who are already eating, "I have fish and other delicacies from the river, a variety of vegetables, a smaller array of fruits and berries, and nuts. All perfect if you need a quick bite on the go. What strikes your fancy today?" Anyone that's halfway paying attention can see that the vendor is trying very hard to avoid staring at Sev but at least his interest seems borne of simple, benign curiosity.
"If nothing stands out, why not try one of everything?" Marcos chuckles between bites of his skewered crayfish. "Might just find a new favorite snack!"
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Princess reaches out with a smile to each before squishing Squish's squishiness. with a giggle. "Hello... friends?" She asks with a bit inflection in her voice.
The old man smiles. "Indeed we are all friends here." He takes another bite of eel and smiles broadly. He turns towards the vendor.
"The eels are most delicious, my friend. You are truly a culinary wizard of renown."
Turning back to the pathfinders Olombe gestures towards the vendor. "While I definitely recommend the eels, that trout would undoubtedly prove to be a delight. In fact I think I shall take our friend Marcos up on his offer and sample a little bit of everything our master restauranteur here has to offer."
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A short mousy woman with brown hair hesitantly steps down the gangplank. "Umm, is this where we're supposed to meet. Oh! Master of Swords! I guess I'm in the right place."
She looks at the other Pathfinders and appears to envy their ability to simply blend in and casually socialize. She somewhat shyly accepts a meat skewer from Marcos and pales slightly as Squish places the vegetables in what she considers a "hidden" pocket.
"Umm, I'm Samantha, but you may call me Sam."
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Princess reaches out with a smile to each before squishing Squish's squishiness. with a giggle. "Hello... friends?" She asks with a bit inflection in her voice.
"Hello." Sev echoes. Though his face is without expression, there is a subtle infliction in his flat tone that might almost be viewed as appreciation brought on by the presence of another construct within the party.
"If nothing stands out, why not try one of everything?" Marcos chuckles between bites of his skewered crayfish. "Might just find a new favorite snack!"
Sev's head gives a momentarily lit to the side, then he turns back to the vendor and states, "Imperative: Give me one of everything."
"Umm, I'm Samantha, but you may call me Sam."
The android turns its optic sensors toward the human woman. "Declarative: I shall call you Sam."
"That's the spirit!"
Marcos doesn't seem the least bit perturbed about Olombe and Sev taking him up on his suggestion - and for that matter, neither does the vendor. He's quite happy to wrap up and package up one of everything on offer for each of them, in case either Pathfinder wants to save part of the spread for an afternoon snack, or a secret snack, or a late-night snack, or all three.
Though it's quite a nice day to sit outside with a snack and enjoy the breeze it comes to an end all too soon as Marcos glances up at the sun and clears his throat. "Alright, it's time we get moving. We’ll walk and talk, eh?" He beckons for everyone to follow him as he sets off down the street. "First off, thank you for coming. This is a bit of an unusual ‘mission’, so let me get right to it. I received a challenge recently from Orlaelia Aldori. She’s an up-and-coming swordmaster here in Restov. Claims her students are capable of besting any of mine. Now, I get challenges like that all the time, and normally I ignore them. But this time? Well, there’s a little bit more to it. A double-edged sword, so to speak." He lets out a small chuckle. "Which is apt, because one of these extras is a sword. Orlaelia has bet Inheritor’s Fury, her old longsword, on this deal. She used to be a Mendevian crusader, you see, and the sword has seen the depths of the Worldwound. It’s a relic in its own right and an item the Society would love to study in depth, not to mention a valuable piece of modern history deserving proper cataloging and preservation."
"While the pursuit of a relic alone would not merit taking you away from your other duties, this challenge also gives us a chance to make new friends and acquaintances in Restov. It’s been a while since the society had an active presence here. Rising to this challenge could give us a friendly rival at worst and some new friends at best. Orlaelia, though a veteran of many battles, is still Taldan at heart, from what I know at least, and still loves the arts. So! While this challenge will culminate in a duel between you and her students, she will most likely have a few other tests in mind that go beyond raw combat. Who can say what they’ll be. From what I hear her style is quite practical, but old veterans like us see lessons in the strangest of places." He smiles, perhaps thinking of similar examples from his own past, though doesn’t elaborate further.
"I’ve opened up Birchwood Hall, our lodge here. Haven’t managed to get all the damp and dust out yet, but that shouldn’t bother us overmuch. I’m sure you’ve all seen much worse during your travels - ah, and here we are!"
Right on cue, you arrive at the aforementioned Birchwood Hall and Marcos wastes no time in leading you inside and through the main sitting room into a wood-paneled conference room. There’s a faint smell of dust in the air that the open windows have yet to dispel.
"Now, we have a few more minutes before Orlaelia and her students are expected to arrive. If you have any questions about this assignment, now is the time to ask!"
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Blub
Squish is indeed quite squishy.
Sev stares blankly at the oozemorph. However, his processors are unable to ascertain the appropriate response to draw from its files related to proper etiquette.
Instead, the android returns its attention to the Master of Swords. "Declarative: The selection of this unit for this mission involving a martial duel would appear to be suboptimal due to current limits on computation capacity designated for combat tracking and related subroutines. Query: What manner of 'few other tests', should one anticipate?"
"Other than the duel? I’m not honestly not sure but you can count on her coming up with some good ones that will surely test the body and mind in interesting ways," Marcos answers with a reassuring smile. "Or in short, Orlaelia isn't one to focus her training on sword-swinging alone. There could be some manner of test that focuses on tactics, for example."
As you're being briefed and asking questions, you happen to recall that the Society has been involved in the politics of Brevoy before and are regarded as allies by those they helped, and enemies by those they thwarted; overall they’re no more liked than disliked. Venture-Captain Alvar, former VC of Birchwood Hall, was generally well regarded and many in Restov specifically would be eager to see the Society return to the city, not only because agents bring increased commerce, but also to spice up the local dueling scene.
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"Well that's good. My sword-swinging days are long past." Olombe pauses for a moment. "In fact they are so long past that I think they never actually happened. Still, it can't be too hard could it? Just stick the pointy end into your opponent before he does it to you, right?"
The old man frowns. "This does bring up a problem however. I don't exactly relish the idea of injuring or killing her students. And I dislike the idea of them doing that to us even more. Will we be using some sort of padded training weapons or something?"
"Oh yes, yes, this won't be a lethal competition," the Master of Swords is quick to reassure you. "We've arranged to have a ritual performed on the sparring room that will ensure that any damage done in there is of the non-lethal variety."
Just then, you hear a hard knock at the lodge's front door. ”There they are! We'll convene in the sitting room," Marcos remarks as he rises and heads for the door. "Be on your very best behavior and try your best to look impressive!"
Everyone heads back out to the lodge’s sitting room and Marcos, with a slightly nervous air, goes to open the door. A party of five waits outside, led by a middle-aged woman with her dark hair pulled back into a simple knot. She wears woolen trousers beneath her sensible skirts and a thick leather jerkin with an emblem embroidered on the right side. Catching sight of Marcos in the doorway, she grins widely and greets him with a firm handshake; one that goes on a little too long. "There you are, Marcos! It’s been ages, hasn’t it?" Meanwhile, you note that the four students behind her wear similar jerkins. All carry a distinctive Aldori dueling sword strapped to their hips.
"Six agents, Marcos?" Orlaelia Aldori asks as she turns her attention to your group, appraising each of you in turn. "Overcompensating are we?" she smirks.
"Pfft, hardly," the Master of Swords snorts. "Each one of them answered my call - and eagerly, I might add. I promise they’re plenty capable of giving as good as they get from your students!"
At this, Orlaelia smiles. "Fantastic. Now then, my students - introduce yourselves."
The first to introduce herself is a half orc woman with long black hair in an intricate braid. She wears her school jerkin partially open to reveal a spotless white blouse underneath. Her pants are a light brown linen and don’t show a crease out of place. She wears black leather shoes with silver buckles. "Dura Aldori," she smiles, throwing a wink at Samantha.
Next, a human man with short brown hair who looks to be in his late twenties steps forward and greets you all with a fancy bow. "I am Halran Aldori." He completes his school jerkin with riding pants and boots and wears a single pearl earring in his right ear.
The ysoki beside him with white and gray fur seems a bit standoffish, though not unfriendly. It’s hard to guess their age due to the natural gray fur. Their school jerkin has a few extra pockets sewn on and they wear colorful layered skirts along with wraps around their back paws, leaving the toes open. "My name is Rhenei Aldori," she informs you with a curtsy.
The final student, a gnome with golden hair in a bowl cut that looks as if she performed it herself, practically thrums with energy. She looks ready to explode into a thousand questions, but ends up blurting out, "Thisnabel Aldori! I am. Me. That's me, I mean." Her school jerkin looks as if it had several minor accidents with various substances and bears odd stains. She wears practical leather pants laced up down the sides and leather boots which have seen better days.
"Very good, very good. It is a pleasure to meet you," Marcos bows. He then turns to you and gestures, "And my Pathfinders are…"
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“My designation is 7019090072452414749257838637412586730286754309," replies the android, concluding that the formality of the introductions called for the production of the entirety of his designation.
The android nods his head in accordance with standard etiquette protocols.
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"I have had many names over the years. Teacher,Father, Grandfather, Son, Molo, Captain, Inspector, and many others." He chuckles. "Ha! An ulfen woman recently began calling me Afi for some reason. There is one name that I have always returned to, and that is Olombe."
He looks over the budding swordmasters and smiles. "Ah look at all of you. So young and full of energy. Especially you little one." He winks at the gnome. "If you had any more energy, why, you would blow up like a pufferfish. Have you heard the tale of Nana Anadi and the pufferfish? No? Well this I have heard and heard once more and so I think it true. Nana Anadi was fishing and had caught several fish for her dinner when Crocodile appeared and tried to steal her catch..." He goes on to tell a long and funny story of how Nana Anadi tricked Crocodile into taking the 'larger' pufferfish instead of the many more substantial fish in her catch.
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Princess Sunset does a small bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Princess Sunset. and this here." She holds up the broken orse leg. "This here is Moondust, my faithful steed." She looks sad. "He was my faithful steed." He eyes slowly come up from the ground. "Are you friends here to play with me?" The air around her ripples with excitement.
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"Oh LOOK at you, you're so cute!" Thisnabel squeals as Princess Sunset introduces herself. For one (possibly) horrifying moment the gnome looks as though she's ready to dash forward and scoop the little poppet up into her arms but a rather pointed look from Orlaelia makes her decide otherwise; she instead nods her head so hard it's a wonder she doesn't give herself whiplash. "Yes! Yes, I'm here to play with you! Um. We, I mean. We are here to play with you."
Harlan rolls his eyes. "Sure. If that's what you want to call it. Also, ah...sir?" he turns his attention to Sev, "Forgive me if I am being rude, but do you have another moniker that you go by? One that is a little easier to speak in a hurry, if need be?"
"Perhaps he wishes to be addressed by his full name Harlan," the ysoki remarks. "If so then we must be sure to do just that. Not everyone enjoys nicknames and such, after all."
Harlan opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by Thisnabel as her attention shifts to Olombe, blurting out, "No, I haven't heard that story! But I'd love to!"
Orlaelia looks for a moment as though she's going to object to Impromptu Story Hour...but then seems to reconsider. She glances at Marcos. "This wasn't quite what I had planned, but...I believe we can spare a little time before we begin, don't you?" Marcos nods in agreement. "Absolutely! Everyone is gathered, which is the most important part - we have most of the day for our little competition."
With it decided, everyone settles in to hear Olombe's story of Nana Andai and the pufferfish. He clearly has a masterful way with words and it isn't long before everyone, even Orlaelia and Marcos, are hanging on every word. Well, *nearly* everyone. Dura, though she does listen to the story, keeps shooting concerned glances at Sam but doesn't try to approach or speak to her. Otherwise, everyone largely keeps their focus on Olombe until the tale is concluded. Orlaelia and her students give a hearty round of applause; even Harlan and the reserved Rhenei.
"Now that was a story," the swordlord remarks with a wide smile and an approving look at the group of students and Pathfinders. One gets the impression that both she and Marcos are pleased at how well the two groups seem to be getting along.
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"Forgive me if I am being rude, but do you have another moniker that you go by? One that is a little easier to speak in a hurry, if need be?"
"Based upon the parameters of my interactive protocols, your query does not satisfy the criteria for a classification as 'rude'." The android replies. "Therefore, your initial request for forgiveness has been rendered moot. As for your request for another moniker, should you find it easier to verbalize, you may refer to me as 'Sev'."
"With respect to your monikers," Sev continues. "my auditory sensors confirm that each of you appear to share an identical surname, yet my visual sensors register significant differences amongst your collective physical characteristics and, most likely, taxonomies, which suggests a low probabilty of shared genetics."
"Query: Is the designation 'Aldori' intended to convey an adoptive familial connection or does the designation serve as a form of rank or title?"
"A little of both," Harlan replies. "You see, the Aldori swordlords came about when a famed swordsman named Baron Sirian Aldori agreed to train a select group of pupils in his dueling techniques. They rose to prominence and ruled what was once the nation of Rostland for generations."
"Yes, they became their own order, of sorts," Rhenei jumps in to add. "Anyone who wishes to become an Aldori swordlord must swear a pact to never teach the swordlords' secrets to anyone outside of the order."
"You also have to take the last name 'Aldori'," Thisnabel interjects, chest swelling with pride. "It's a point of honor!"
Dura nods. "Honor but also skill. It isn't just swearing a pact and taking a name or everyone would join - you have to have some skill with a blade, too. Each of us had to prove our skill by winning a duel, using only a sword, in the presence of another Aldori swordlord. That was only the beginning and each of us have a lot to learn...but we aren't exactly greenhorns, either."
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With story time finished, Orlaelai claps her hands to get everyone's attention. "For this little event I have proposed a series of three challenges. We will, of course, have a duel as the third and final challenge. That said, my experiences in the crusades fighting demons taught me that to not only survive, but win decisively, one needs more than a strong sword arm and quick reflexes. As the challenger, it is our responsibility to act with generosity and nobility toward you. Therefore, you may choose the other two challenges from the list I propose. I will also explain the rules for each:"
"The first proposed challenge I propose is a flyting, bragging, and insult competition to demonstrate each contestant's wit. Unnerving your opponent can win a battle before it is even fought. A demoralized, distracted, or enraged opponent is much more easily subdued in a duel, after all."
"Another favorite of mine is a good old-fashioned poetry slam! I suppose you weren’t expecting that, hm? You see, a good poem can impress friends and allies and discredit an enemy, giving an advantage before a duel even starts. Each team could craft a poem."
"Another option is a game of tug-of-war. I mean, who doesn't like tug-of-war?"
"During official duels and training matches there is always a first aid professional close by; however, by their nature duelists usually aren’t so lucky when accepting a challenge in the heat of the moment outside of such formal settings. I have seen enough friends and comrades die in the Worldwound before first aid could reach them.It’s always best to be prepared and have someone on your team trained to save your life."
"Sometimes you have to take down an opponent in an unconventional way, without harming them. And that can certainly be easier said than done!"
"And last but not least, conditions on the battlefield and during a duel often vary. One might have to battle with the low sun blindingly shining in their eyes or be awoken in the depths of night by a rampaging creature. A sharp sense of perception can be the difference between life and death."
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Olombe smiles broadly. "Well now that certainly is a diverse selection of challenges. Sadly my enthusiasm for more physical challenges has greatly diminished over the decades. I do have a few life experiences that might prove useful though. My time spent flyting in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords was rather brief but I did learn a trick or two and eventually managed to secure the respect of several notable individuals. It was far too cold there however so I left after only a few months. Also I spent a good bit of time as a poet and storyteller in the coffee houses of Katapesh in my younger days and I think I might yet have a rhyme or two left in me."
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Blub.
Squish motions his allies in for a huddle by outstretching his blobious ?arms?
"Poetry would be my best. Medicinal supplies would be a good task too. Tug of war would not be a bad task. Being blindfolded is interesting, and the cat seems difficult but doable. Finally the bragging challenge I don't think would be good for me."
Blub
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"Given the breadth of information stored within my databanks, I have calculated that this unit would be most efficient at the 'poetry slam' as the activity does not appaer to require the physical contact that its title would suggest," notes Sev.
"However, as this unit is not the sole participant in these competitions, a broader analysis of capabilities is required."
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"Given the breadth of information stored within my databanks, I have calculated that this unit would be most efficient at the 'poetry slam' as the activity does not appaer to require the physical contact that its title would suggest," notes Sev.
"However, as this unit is not the sole participant in these competitions, a broader analysis of capabilities is required."
"Excellent selections," Orlaelia nods after you make your selections. "We'll start with the poetry slam...though Sev is correct in that the challenge lies in simply crafting the poem, rather than performing it!"
She gestures to a door over in the northwestern wall. "You may withdraw to the library for inspiration and quiet while my students will work in the conference room. Both Marcos and I will serve as judges; the poems will also be shuffled so that we have no knowledge of which team penned which poem."
"Time to get to it, then!" Marcos' voice booms and echoes throughout the room. "Orlaelia and myself, we'll be waiting here for everyone to finish up."
Orlaelia's students look at each other and then shrug before rising and heading towards the conference room, leaving you to head to the library. As it turns out, the library here has quite the variety of books so it should be easy enough to find a spark of inspiration. On the other hand it hasn't been cleaned in some time and quite a bit of dust has collected over everything, making it harder to concentrate.
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Gilgamesh
Olombe
Princess Sunset
Samantha
Sev
Squish
Everyone may act!
Though some are more reluctant than others, everyone gets right to work on the poem. Squish starts things off with a persuasive and logical suggestion to center the poem around aberrations and other such things that lurk beyond the stars. Sev and Sam pick up on the idea and try to run with it but find that writing a poem is easier said than done. Princess Sunset and Olombe fare better; Princess Sunset adds her own take on the theme and Olombe adjusts the meter of the words to flow accordingly. Gilgamesh, however, is completely out of his element and quite obviously struggles to contribute.
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Poetry Points: 3
Gilgamesh
Olombe
Princess Sunset
Samantha
Sev
Squish
Everyone may act!