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...slumping along on all fours, knuckles bracing the ground in bounded "hops" astride the Profit's Flow, a fury, dark, humanoid hero races beside the river, his tongue sticking out of his toothy mouth, enjoying the breeze peppering his large-featured mug, the expression of joy like a child running across a playground unrepressed, radiant, even somewhat feral...
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An upright frog slowly makes his way to Petitioner's Point. His glistening skin is dark green mottled with brown spots. He knows he's not a very common sight in these parts of the world, but he'd gotten used to the looks working the bars and restaurants in Absalom. Worst of all was the nobles who would send back their food, having seen who made it. He sighs out loud, letting his thoughts escape into this world. He much rather enjoyed traveling Varisia with nomads who appreciated his cooking. Gypsies and other caravan goers appreciate well-crafted food, and one could meet many people and swap recipes.
Despite his unusual appearances, he was dressed rather conventionally in a traveler's tunic and breeches. They were just light enough to catch an enjoyable breeze. He hikes along the Profit's Flow so that he could dip his feet in from time and time and generally enjoy the moist air that his skin craved.
Just then he spied what looked like a large Gorilla knuckling alongside the river ahead of him. He blinks vigorously.
Oh my, the dreams are getting stronger...
He shakes his head violently, thinking he can clear the image from his head. His mind had been doing awfully powerful things for the better part of two years now...
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Slamming to a graceful stop, the brake force of a double-fisted brunt leaving a deeper impression in the dirt than is produced by mere stride, our playful hero approaches the amphibianoid, his own posture slowly, vertebrae by vertebrae, erectifying, as he activates his abdomen musculature to unravel his spinal column into a taller, more civilized gait, abandoning the pleasure of fully feeling the ground by four limbs for that of presenting an air of human confidence, composure, and wisdom, by three.
Three?: Moving slowly but not necessarily cautiously, he produces his only effect - a common walking stick - which now girds the weight of some of his well-shaped torso through strong clutch of hand, and greets the grippli verbally "Friend of the Wood, I, go by Hanu, and you, friend too, go by who?"
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Standing quite splendidly in his blue O-yoroi armor, mithral buckler on his blue-black featherd arm, Ōtani Yoshitsugu appeared an impressive vision of a proper Samurai. Katana, Wakizashi, Tetsubo and horse bow all in their proper places, the 6' Tengu seems to have--literally--just gotten off a boat in Petitioner's Port.
His blue eye gaze wonders the scene as the Tengu Strides along the flowing river. Smiling at the sight of a Vanara and a Grippli calmly enjoying the brisk morning air, Otani, deciding that a bird of a feather and all that, makes his way over to the odd pair.
Tis a beautiful morning to enjoy the smells and sounds of the river, is it not, my fellows?
The apparent Samurai bows to both.
I am Ōtani Yoshitsugu, of the nation of Kwanlai and Pathfinder. Well met.
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Moists' eyes bulge out a bit as if he were strenuously croaking.
Ye gods it's coming right for me! Is this the upset customer dream or the upset party host dream! And what does it mean that the customer is a gorilla? Um... I'll have to reflect on this later in my dream journal.
Hanu's gentle greeting voice seems to frame reality for the grippli, who now un-tenses. He rubs the back of his head with a slimy webbed hand.
Um... oh! You're really here. He shakes his head vigorously again. Nevermind that. They call me Moist. It's been a long time since I've had any other name. What brings your travels in the same direction as I, along this river?
Just then a tengu approaches.
Maybe... maybe this is still a dream?
Moist perks up at the mention of "Pathfinder."
Oh! Pathfinder! I recently became one of those. Well met! My name (for now) is Moist. Definitely.
He looks back and forth curiously between the two, now only 10% unsure he is awake.
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Standing at his full 3'5ft, Zepth takes a look around the place, wonder in his eyes.
This is actually the first time he's even left the lodge after being left there as a baby and adopted by the members of the society... one of the few places that don't look at him with cautious eyes due to mixed hag blood, apparent on this dust grey skin tone and white hair.
Always the center of attention, Zepth's various dances and uncanny musical arrangements help to make the travelling easier for those present.
"Well met pathfinders! It's such a great time to travel! I was just bored at the lodge, and truth be told, brother Rain is somewhat too loud for me to manage full time. Some peace a new places make a bard happy, you know?"
Newly confirmed Pathfinder agents are eagerly awaiting their first mission. However, while they bide their time, an intriguing opportunity arises.
Whether they are wandering aimlessly, standing amidst bustling crowds, or gathered together, a diminutive creature scurries by, leaving a scroll in its path.
Upon unraveling the scroll, the following message is revealed:
Adventurers Needed!
My farm has fallen victim to a dire threat. Some malevolent force is slaughtering my beloved alpaca herd. I require urgent assistance and am offering a reward of 4 gold coins to each adventurer who can put an end to these brutal murders. Please visit my farm, located due north of Petitioner’s Port, for further details.
-Wilhuff Harjhack
Fortunately, they find themselves in Petitioner's Port. All they need to do is head north to investigate this enigmatic alpaca murderer or whatever other threat looms.
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"By this river, we meet. Running from the mountain, the water. Pooling here." Hanu bows to each newcomer as they approach, then turns to answer the grippi's question "Belief" and pounding his chest for emphasis, he smiles toothily "And!" and proceeds to do a tumbling-in-place cartwheel, unmoving from his spot, demonstrating his second answer to the question: Play.
The others now nearer to his lumbering form - easily taller than the slouch of 5-3/4' foot when standing tall - a posture, in his play, he has momentarily abandoned! - it can be seen a decorative display of flowers Orange, Indigo, and Yellow - fragrant too, and distributed into tucked spots behind his ears, as well as around his neck and ankles.
As the diminutive creature scurries by, he suddenly breaks off from talking to chase it - bounding once more knuckle over foot, tongue sticking from his mouth - - and loses it among the brush...
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Black Beak parted a bit to respond to the superbly and most motley of gathered peoples, Otani's piercing blue eyes follow the surprising path as the diminutive creature scurries by, leaving a scroll in its path.
One doesn't quite see that every day.
The Tengu then looks to each of those fortune has gathered here and smiles.
Reading the message aloud, the Samurai turns to search each one gathered.
Wanna go save a farmer's alpaca herd?
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A caravan wends its way into Petitioners Port, on the road from Dustpawn. As it pulls up near the river port, a young red-headed man hops down from the front of the second wagon in the column. He waves a cheery farewell to the older driver, hefts his pack and shield onto his back, dons a wide-brimmed hat and looks around, taking in the bustling river port. He is dressed in a dark red surcoat over his armour, with sturdy boots and a flail at his side.
After a moment taking in the activity on the docks, he will spy the unusual quartet along the river and with a look of anticipation, will set off for the group. As he nears the group he will call out "Ah, pathfinders!" but with a slight query to his tone. He will scan for any agreement and once spotted will relax and continue with a smile, "I heard we might be meeting here. I'm Olegaro, a fellow pathfinder. It is an honor to meet you all." As he sets down his pack you see the shield strapped to it is adorned with the glyph of the open road.
After Ōtani reads out the scroll, Olegaro will exclaim "Well, that seems like something we could help out with! Count me in."
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Belief... and play. I suspect there's more to that answer but my motivation is clearly much different from yours.
Before they can really discuss it further it seems Hanu is off again, chasing some other small creature.
He listens as the tengu reads the scroll out loud.
Alpaca? If I recall correctly they're much cuter than cows and pigs. I suppose it's work.
Moist looks particularly confused when Olegaro approaches and identifies the group.
Really? We look like Pathfinders? That is surprising. I suspect to most we look like a circus act! Still, however you found us, I'm glad you did. We're about to head off to... an alpaca farm?
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Responding to Moist's surprise, Olegaro will quip with a grin "Ha! This group looks far too serious to be a circus act! They say that Absalom is the city at the centre of the world, but no greater mix of Golarion's peoples will you find than in the training fields at the Grand Lodge." then after a short pause he will add, "Or at least that is how I have heard the Master of Swords put it."
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"To the circus, I have only read about, and not been" Hanu shares as Olegaro walks up.
He double-takes the man - having not seen a lot of men where he is from - at least not like... and unable to help himself, he approaches the fighter with an intent neither mischievous nor malicious, gently, and such even despite his massive frame, and tipping the wide-brimmed hat up with a flink of his finger, pinches a curl of red hair beneath it, and smells it, and examines it closely, all with a sense of marvel over his face.
The exchange is brief, as indeed, lacking a personal bubble does not automatically preclude the sense of vicarious discomfort at trespassing that of another, and our curious hero withdraws himself, seemingly content with the interaction.
"Gotten away it has" he explains.
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Otani smiles at Hanu. The Tengu bows formerly to Olegaro, as the human martial walks up to the fast forming group of coincidence, chance and ol' school D&D....
The apparent Samurai frowns at the comparisons to a circus, although he has to reluctantly submit to its resemblance.
As Fortune bade each of us to meet here at this time, we probably should heed Her call.
The Oracle stops silent for a few secret seconds before noding his fierce-looking helmed head.
I smell the iron scent of blood in the air. Yes. We are to see about this farmer. Something worthy of 5 Pathfinders is brewing....
Reflexively reaching a taloned hand to the hilt of his Katana, the Tengu has a far away look in his strange blue eyes....
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A half-elf male, dressed in very outlandish and unfashionable clothing arrives from the South. He is wearing bear-hide armor, with deep brown fur still attached to the neck area. He has mismatched cross body bags and pouches galore. He wears many different things from rings, bracelets, amulets, earrings, to feathers, teeth and claws hanging from various necklaces. He also appears to be armed to teeth, with at least a pair of daggers and hatchets on his belt. Nothing on him matches with anything else he's wearing or carrying.
He is absentmindedly looking at a sextet of harrow cards when he notices the very strange party that has gathered. He is obviously shocked at the sight and nearly drops the cards. It takes him a moment to speak, his eyes slowly eyeing the sight before him.
"Of all the things I thought I'd see today, this gathering - is certainly not among them. How odd... how bizarre..." he says with low voice while looking at each person.
"Hallo! I am Rybar Gannon." Then he smiles and says "It looks like I'll fit right in!' He then stows the cards he was looking at. "This I feel, is the beginning of something strange... but, good. Please excuse my manners, but may I ask - why have you gathered here today?"
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A bear-man! This day is really testing my grip reality...
*Croak* Well met Rybar. I'm not sure what fitting in means for us, but we seemed to have been gathered here to read a scroll left by a small rodent. Yes, I had to say that just now. That scroll leads us to an alpaca farm where the farmer apparently needs our aid. We are headed there now. You are welcome to join us!
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As they walk along towards the alpaca farm, Moist seems to recall some information about it as has passed through before.
As I recall it, everyone in town relies on the Harjhack farm for various foodstuffs. The town’s local fineries store depends heavily upon its soft alpaca wool. The farm is renowned for the quality of its alpacas due to cross-breeding them with a baccalia stud. So... it seems helping this farmer is helping the town.
Deciding to help the farmer in need, the adventurers head to Harjhack farm.
The journey from Petitioner’s Port to the Harjhack farm is a two-hour trek north, mostly through rolling green hills broken by the occasional idyllic stream or copse of trees. A sturdy wooden fence marks the borders of the farm; though it might prevent animals from escaping, it doesn’t pose much of an impediment to any other creatures looking to enter the property. When they arrive in the area, they spot a wandering herd of several dozen alpacas off in the distance, moving behind a growing hill. As they continue towards the farm, they see the leader of the herd ascend to the top of the hill, silhouetted by the sun!
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"Fine wool, the baccalia has, and for it: bred"
As the curious vanara follows the party through the rolling green hills, idyllic streams, copses of trees, he pauses here and there to collect flowers and adorn himself with them, causing the 2-hr trek to stretch for about 25% longer than it "should"... and upon reaching the top of the hill...
...takes in the sight of the shiny wool, rubbing his eyes with dirty knuckle.
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"Good to meet you Rybar! Your company will be most welcome."
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After listening to Moist's and Hanu's information as they walk, Olegaro will muse "Sounds like this Harjhack is pretty important to the area. I only hope we can track down the problem for them."
He will walk on, keeping pace with the group and keeping an eye out for trouble.
Then as they crest the hill and see the lead llama,
"Ah I see some llamas, don't they shine beautifully!"
Avoiding being dazzled:
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"Thank you for your welcome good sirs" he says to both Olegaro and Moist, and bows a bit to them. He salutes the others in the party.
Having seen countless oddities, Rybar is unimpressed with the brilliant wool. That doesn't mean he doesn't want it though.
"Good sir, that is a most interesting garment that you there possess. Is this something that you make from these animals?"
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Moist points at the horizon as the alpaca appear.
Hey! There they... he quickly covers his eyes to protect from the scintillating colors.
He blinks through it and ultimately comes out able to see through wet eyes.
Moist remains quiet, waiting to hear the farmer respond to Rybar.
Maybe the bear is a good team spokesman.
Most manage to evade the dazzling light, and moments later, a rugged-looking Kellid man in dirty overalls approaches them from behind, using a pitchfork as an impromptu walking stick.
"Oi!" the man waves to them when he realizes Rybar mistook the figure silhouetted by the sun for a person wearing glittering wool. He quickly introduces himself. "It looks like you've found the beauty on this farm. Wilhuff Harkjhack, by the way."
"I assume you are here to help? Might as well get started in business." he adjusts his posture before continuing. "I think you have mistaken that beauty for a person," he tells Rybar while he points to the leader of the herd that is now descending the hilltop. "That’ll be my pride and joy, my Majesty. He’s the stud ‘round this farm and the daddy to a good chunk of the herd. He’s one of those fancy baccalia breeds they have out east. Bought him years back from a Prophet and the farm’s fortunes have only soared since." he tells them proudly. "I haven't acquired your names. Would you be willing to share them with me, perhaps?" the elderly gentleman inquires, grinning with most of his teeth missing.
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As they approach t hem na, Zepth suddenly stops and looks in complete wonder at the magnificent specimen in front of him. Due to his low stature, everyone might have missed the fact that he stopped dead in his tracks, but the sudden silence for sure indicated that something happened to the chatty gnome.
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Hanu would bow and give his name, but instead, curiosity seems to have clutched his attention; he finds himself wandering up the hill towards Majesty, approaching slow with the trained demeanor of an animal tender, and if allowed to close the distance, scratches the beast, eating any bugs from off of his head...
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Realizing he was speaking to an unintelligent creature, Rybar sighs - a bit frustrated at not knowing what defines a creature or a person, present company in consideration. He then sees Otani talking to a fence post, and realizes someone else is having an even harder time.
"Good day sir Wilhuff Harkjhack! Majesty is absolutely magnificent! My name is Rybar. These companions of mine are named Moist, Olegaro, Otani, Zepth and Hanu. Although we've only met barely two hours ago, we have agreed to help you." Rybar points at a scroll that one of his companions had picked up earlier.
"Please, tell us more about what is happening here."
"Oh, great to know everyone and and great to hear too that you are helping!" Wilhuff beams them happiness. "I really appreciate you younger generation coming to helping me out of my current troubling situation."
"I actually asked Resplendent Bureaucracy, you know, Druma’s governing branch, hehe, to post my request for assistance in the town’s regular bounty board. Hmm, I need to thank Administrator Salayah later or tomorrow for posting that in time for me. If not for her, she is a nice half-elf, it would take some time before help could finally come." he says that looks like derailing to the problem at hand.
"Anyway, it started about two weeks ago, when I found one of my alpacas, Shadow, dead near the northern fence. Looks like she got spooked something fierce and was caught up in the wiring we use there. Didn’t think too much of it until we found more alpaca bodies in the coming days. With ol’ Rockford gone, that makes four dead alpacas." now he is back on track.
"I’m worried whatever’s killing the herd, stragglers might get some courage and try to attack Majesty. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him!" he adds worriedly. "Aside from Shadow getting caught up in the wiring, it’s been right strange. The other alpacas look like they just dropped dead from fright. I can’t tell much else, as I don’t have a medical background, but maybe you can take a look?" The old man motions everyone to follow him.
The old farmer escorts them to the northeastern section of his land, where he has kept the body of his latest lost alpaca, Rockford, untouched near the containment fence. "I will leave you here to perform your investigation in peace. I actually need to get my herd gathered up and put them into the barn." the old man quickly leaves them.
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The grippli nods as his name is introduced by Rybar. He elaborates only slightly.
Greetings, they indeed call me Moist. You can probably imagine why.
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While they follow the farmer, Moist adds his own question.
Do you have a place where Majesty can stay indoors or in a barn safely for some days while we investigate the matter? It seems dangerous to let them roam freely while an attacker is out there!
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The investigation...
"I usually find them dead whenever I begin my morning routine with them. I believe the murder happens at night since I work until sunset." Wilhuff tells the fighter.
"I only have the barn for them, I think that will do." he answers Moist. "Well, I am actually hoping you will solve the murder mystery today." he adds.
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While investigating, Olegaro checks the nearby terrain and sees small footprints directly next to Rockford’s corpse, though they don’t seem to go any further. He also notes the presence of three golden studs lying unattended in a nearby area.
Meanwhile, Moist inspects the fence and finds no damage or sign of forced entry into the enclosure. However, he realizes that the fence is rotten in several places and wouldn’t withstand much direct damage, but the assailant chose to bypass it.
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"Interesting about the fence Moist, could they want it to stay up for some reason?"
Olegaro then points out the footprints by the body "Careful of that area. We want to keep those footprints. Anyone know what they might be from?"
Then, when he spots the studs he'll hustle over to have a closer look at them. He will squat down for a closer look at them where they are. After a minute or two of looking at them from a few angles, he'll pick one up for a closer look while musing "I wonder who is missing these three?"
The old man overhears Rybar. "On the path? Like on the ground? Maybe the administrator hastily posted it on the bounty board. It might have gotten blown by the wind." he tells him, though he is unsure how is that so... "I am not sure how many copies they made, actually."
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Rybar sees that Rockford has six golden studs on his ears, matching those Olegaro recently found. Aside from that, he notices several puncture marks underneath the wool of the alpaca’s neck, but he can't know what caused it. Looking at the fence too, he notes that the fence here has no signs of use, so whatever entered this area likely did so by leaping over the fence.
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Wandering around the farm, our curious hero proceeds from one clue to the next - first by skimming the corpse for bugs and examining the puncture marks - second by testing the fence by climbing it and jumping down from it - finally by picking up each of the studs that lead off, wondering where they go!
Hanu is able to learn that Rockford’s body has been almost completely drained of blood. He also confirms that whatever entered this area likely did so by leaping over the fence. The terrain has nothing unusual to him though. Otani, however, finds it intriguing that he sees small footprints directly next to Rockford’s corpse, though they don’t seem to go any further. Zepth notes that the same tracks Otani found start and end several feet past the fence, leading towards a nearby copse of trees. This discovery further verifies that the creature jumped into the enclosure and then jumped out.
