Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin paces in front of a small table in this meeting room in the Grand Lodge. In front of him on the table is a packet of parchments.
“Pathfinders, a rather concerning development has come to light. I have received a summons requesting Pathfinder presence at a meeting of the Shoanti quahs. The impetus for this request is troubling, to say the least."
“About one year ago, a Pathfinder named Lumketul Simset returned to the Grand Lodge with notes on a rather exciting discovery: a Thassilonian ruin, tucked in a remote area in the Iron Peaks in Varisia. He also returned with several artifacts, which we took in for further study. Lumketul’s notes were the basis of a tale published in the Pathfinder Chronicles shortly thereafter, which has become rather popular among those endeavoring to uncover new Thassilonian discoveries."
“However, I recently received a message from Cousin to All, an ally from the Shriikirri-Quah. Shadde-Quah traders came across a copy of the Pathfinder Chronicles. Upon reading Lumketul’s entry, they realized that he was speaking not of a Thassilonian ruin, but of a sacred Shoanti burial site known as the Muschkal Sepulcher. Shadde-Quah leadership contacted the Skoan-Quah, which sent out their boneslayers to confirm the reports. Turns out—unfortunately for all parties—Lumketul did in fact damage and plunder the sepulcher.”
Ambrus rubs his temples with one hand, then continues. “Our relations with the quahs have already been somewhat strained, although friendlier than their other connections with outsiders. Fortunately for us, we have some history of goodwill with the Shoanti, so Cousin to All was able to convince the other quahs to send representatives to hear our side of the story. Unfortunately for us, our side of the story is still bad. Lumketul showed no regard or respect in his blind pursuit of discovery, and frankly, the Society doesn’t have much grounds to deserve forgiveness. The Muschkal Sepulcher is an important location for all the quahs, and Lumketul’s disregard has cast the Society as a whole in a bad light. We’ve tried contacting Lumketul, but he has cut contact with the Society, and no one in the Society has heard from him in over a year. This is where you come in. I would like for all of you to travel to the meeting of the councilmembers and represent the Society. I believe excuses will not be received well; rather, please petition the council with utmost earnestness and sincerity.”
Ambrus pushes the packet of parchments across the table. “I’ve had Lumketul’s notes on his expedition dug up in the hopes they’d be of some use. I’ve also included a copy of his Chronicle publication, although his embellishments and obfuscation of truth may have rendered it useless; nevertheless, maybe you’ll glean some helpful information from it.” Ambrus then reaches down beside him and pulls up a large satchel and an egg-shaped rock that emits a warm, red glow. “The bag contains the items Lumketul plundered from the burial site. At the very least, we must return the items to the Shoanti, and I request you try to convince the council to allow you to restore the sepulcher to its proper state. As for the stone, if you touch it to a broken object, it will gradually repair it. It won’t last forever, but it should have enough magic left in it for this mission.” The venture-captain pauses for emphasis. “It’s important to the Society to develop further relations with the quahs, so this could be an opportunity to show that we can be trusted.”
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The more Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin delves into the diplomatic complexities of the Pathfinders' next mission, the more Bobbie begins to think that it might have been a mistake to show up to the Grand Lodge in her usual full suit of armor.
She struggles to follow much of the contextual details. None of her previous missions have taken her anywhere near the Iron Peaks, and she's never come across quahs in the adventure books she's so fond of -much alone talked to one in the flesh. They apparently were divided in a variety of groups with names she'd probably manage to get right if she had time to repeat them and learn them by heart. For now, she'd be hard-pressed to remember a single one. She didn't even know the cultural differences between them.
Bobbie glances at Desynthia from the corner of her eye. Perhaps she could fill her in. Or any of the people around them. They looked more bookish. Perhaps they could actually follow what the Venture-Captain was saying easily. That would be more reassuring than letting oneself think that Venture-Captains would stalk the Lodge's corridors at the slightest emergency, ready to pounce on the first unlikely bastards who happened to walk by to burden them with new responsibilities.
That would at least explain what she was doing in that room.
At least she could understand the parts that made the most sense. Something was stolen, Pathfinder is to blame but he poofed his way out of the situation, victims are rightfully angry, and they were asked to step in to play mediators... Right. There was one thing she didn't get. She raised her hand.
" Excuse me," she says in the same tone one would say 'Hold on.' "But if it's bad, it's bad, right? There's no point in pretending no harm's been done. If we can't drag back the offender by the seats of his pants to the quahs and have him face the consequences of his actions, we can't let them think we're on his side." Ah, the good old days when hitting a criminal over the head and bringing him to the nearest authorities still worked as a solution.
"Is the Society still looking for the guy? And what about the tale he published? Was it removed from the Chronicles so wannabe adventurers wouldn't go deeper in quah territory, looking for ruins that don't exist?"
"And why shouldn't we let them restore their own holy place, if they want to? It's been interfered with enough -especially by Pathfinders. If they don't completely trust us, isn't that their right?"
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The slender, bookish-looking human in robes starts. Trouble with the Shoanti quahs...will have to brush up on the culture before we leave. And here I just got back from there! Bet we don't teleport to this one, though. Now what did she say? Oh, yeah.
"As I understand the Shoanti culture, they might refuse our help. It's important that we make the offer, though. Whatever they decide, we have to respect it, too." He looks a little crestfallen. "It's too bad we don't have Damiar along. That elf could sweet-talk anyone!"
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A white haired woman, quite young, enters the room, stop dead in her tracks, and darts to Bobbie, her arms extended for a hug
Bobbie! How glad am I to see you again! I must confess that as soon as I saw your name on the recruiting roll for that mission, I signed up mine.
While she hugged the warrior, her hair became a multicolored, soft and sweet mix of pink and light blue rainbow.
Then she, more quietly, bows to the Captain
Sorry Venture Captain. I do cherish my friends in the Paffies. My name is Desynthia Mezden. So we are in for a diplomatic mission to restore good faith with the Shoanti tribes? Suits me.
and then she spots the quiet robe-wearing guy.
Hi, nice to meet you too. How are you?
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A stern-looking woman wearing a breastplate enters the room. The white hair that cascades to her shoulders is jet-black at the roots, belying its true color. An assortment of well-used weapons can be seen in various places, the most prominent of which is a large two-handed sword on her back. She displays a holy symbol of Sarenrae on her chest. "Thank you for meeting here," she says calmly to the other Pathfinders, as though she expected nothing else. "I'm Iladora."
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She listens to the mission brief and scowls. "So we're to beg forgiveness for the defacing of the burial site, and try to repair any damage to the Society's working relationship?" The Lady wants me to learn humility, it seems. "What can you tell us about the councilmembers themselves? Any specific assurances they're looking for, aside from repairs?"
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A young female gnome comes riding in on a fully grown snow leopard. The two look familiar, perhaps even iconic but their names do not come instantly to mind.
The carefree and diminutive fey creature smiles impossibly wide at the sight of fellow Pathfinders.
"Hello there! I am Lini, well at least for today and this is Droogami but I call him Droo for short."
"Hey Droo say hi to our new friends!"
The proud snow leopard smiles a toothy grin at the assembled party and then licks her master almost knocking her off his back.
"Hey stop that you trickster!"
Lini says in a fake rebuking tone.
He replies to Bobbie first, ”Of course it is their right to restore the shrine themselves and never speak to us again. But it’s your job to convince them our agency isn’t made up of the idiot that did this. If they refuse to allow you to fix the mistakes of one of our members, so be it. But I expect you to give it your all and try to make amends. As for the agent, we don’t know where he is. He left our regular employ a year ago. Why, we don’t know. Maybe he tired of the work, decided to lay down roots, or had family matters to attend to. The Society doesn’t go nosing around and interfering in the lives of agents who make that choice—though later we may make an exception in Lumketul’s case, given these developments. We tried using divination magic to track him down. All we learned is that he’s on a boat somewhere, sailing on the open sea. The chronicles will of course be amended depending upon your report.”
He adds, ” Many of the councilmembers will be suspicious of your intentions, but Cousin to All did convince the rest of the quahs to at least entertain this meeting, so I believe they’ll approach this meeting with somewhat open minds. I believe that your best bet is to approach them with honesty and respect, owning our mistake and presenting a clear solution to the problem. However, don’t try to play the relics off as a bargaining chip; we are obligated to return the items, not simply doing so as a nicety.”
Lini responds to the briefing with confidence and brimming over with enthusiasm. While not formally trained for diplomatic work her natural charm is quite apparent.
"You can count on us to set things right. A lunkhead like Lumketul will not sink the reputation of the Pathfinder Society. No Sir!"
Droogami in the meanwhile is lounging indulgently on the floor. He is all sprawled out under a large table.
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Bobbie nods along as the Venture-Captain replies, seemingly more receptive to the idea of being fully honest with the quahs than to sugarcoat the truth.
She shoots an appreciative glance at the white-haired woman who spoke up. She sounded like a clear-headed sort. Sarenrae's followers could sometimes be so passionate about redemption, it made Bobbie's hair stand on end. She was as merciful as the next guy, but sometimes you had to call a piece of s+~@ a piece of s%%&.
She wasn't too sure about the leopard and its girl. She didn't like to find cat hair on her shield. Just because it 'warmed up easily to the sun' didn't make it a cat bed.
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A small red-haired female halfling in a Mithral Chain Shirt armor and a small longsword on her hip stands in a corner.
She is wearing a regular sized spell component pouch around her waist - and also an adorable little backpack on her back.
The halfling repeats (while raising a finger with each task): "So, return the artefacts with sincere apologies, sweet-talk the councilmembers into letting us repair the Muschkal Sepulcher, then go and actually do it with the help of this glowing rock... Ok, I think I got it!"
She then turns to the wizard: "Damiar? You mean Damiar Apastron? Oh yeah, my friend Seelah* told me she's very good at that! But do not worry, I'm also not half bad - I'm sure I will find the right words..." The halfling smiles confidenly and winks at Salvio.
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The venture captain passes out some information, "This is the excerpt we have from the Chronicles ." He adds another document to the pile, "And these are Lumketul's notes ."
Lastly he adds a larger document, "And this is all we currently know about the council ."
He nods at Corba's summary, "That's pretty much the gist of it."
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Bobbie makes a few inquiries about the quahs, but soon becomes absorbed by Lumketul's notes, and the Venture-Captain quickly moves on to someone one.
He at least kept a detailed account of the rooms he had passed through and the discoveries he made - she takes his encounter with the undead with a grain of salt. Considering the true nature of the place he was pilfering, they might as well have been guardians that only attacked him because he trespassed.
She grimaces at the mention of the coffins he opened. How the f%!+ did he not guess he had walked into a sepulchre? Apparently no one questioned the presence of coffins in ancient Thassilonian ruins. Ancient Thassilonian ruins my arse.
This was bad though. The apologies to the quahs had better be good.
She leaves the notes aside to read through the names of the council members. She repeats them slowly in her head, trying to memorize their social role as well. With some effort, perhaps she could even learn which clans they belonged to -or at least their Taldane translations. The Shoanti names, she knows, will be lost on her.
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Salvio reads over the notes quickly, twiddling a copper piece in one hand. "Huh...I wouldn't think that nomads like the Shoanti would bury their dead, much less inter them in coffins. There's always something new to learn! Venture-Captain, do you have any record of what languages Lumketel knew? I'm wondering about those runes he described--he didn't recognize them, so we could at least get some idea of what they weren't written in."
Lini tries to help Desynthia find out what they can of the Shoanti.
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The VC answers, "We have a teleport set up to take you directly to the meeting place. So make any arrangements quickly. As to obscure languages, no clue. I'd suggest a magical arrangement might solve that issue though."
And while he isn't initially a fan of the group taking some extra time to dig up some information, both Des and Corba really lean into the 'but don't you want us to know as much as we can? We are researchers, after all' aspect of pathfindering.
He gives you a few hours to research the clans. After Janira and three library employees are entranced by the two smooth talking ladies, quite a bit of information is compiled.
The fierce Shoanti are spread throughout the Storval Plateau in northern Varisia, where they eke out a living in harsh, inhospitable conditions. The Shoanti formerly inhabited much of southern Varisia, until they were forced northward into the Storval Plateau after bloody conflicts with Chelaxian colonists. This violent history has led to many Shoanti being mistrustful of outsiders. Despite seeming xenophobic, Shoanti are not completely closed off. Many outsiders have been known to join their ranks, but only after a history of demonstrating loyalty to their clan and dedication to its principles.
Salvio sighs, he knew all this already. Ah well, good to have a double-check.
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"I hope the Shoanti do not have any problems with dogs... or recipes! Rocky wouldn't like that, and neither would I." Corba shudders. "My riding dog can teleport with us, right? Also, if it is cold up there, I have a fully charged wand of endure elements... and for any obscure languages I have a wand of comprehend languages, too. As Janira always says: You better be prepared!"
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Lini tries to make friends with Corba's pet dog. Of course she comes prepared with a small piece of beef jerky to bribe him with.
"Why Rocky is such a cutie. Who can possibly have a problem with him?"
"Droo and I am ready to go as well."
"Be nice to Rocky, alright Droo. No tricks!"
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Droogami walks with the confidence of a fully developed male leopard in his prime. He crouches down and appears ready to pounce on Rocky but then snorts indicating that it is only a game.
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The group collects their wits and advises the VC they are good to go.
Droo’s antics would normally be terrifying to most dogs, but Rocky is a battle tested and hardened pup. He fears nothing!
A wizard by the name Jia enters and begins casting teleport. Des swings and misses at the fly, who lands on her shoulder right as the spell completes. After a stomach twisting yank, the group arrives on a wind-swept plateau. The sorceress wonders where the fly went but is sure it isn’t an issue. Besides, that pile of dung she smells over there looks delicious!
The wizard takes out a book and nods at the pathfinders, ”Just come back here when done, I’ll get you back.”
Two guides are there who wave you all to follow inside a large cavern. The path leading into the earth beneath the Storval Stairs opens into an expansive cavern, chatter echoing off the striated rock walls. Smaller passages branch from the main chamber, winding deeper underground. The space is filled with people grouped in small clusters engaged in quiet discussion. Waiting near the entrance to the cavern are two Shoanti. One of them, a half elf with a prominent facial tattoo resembling a styled hawk, approaches. “Be welcome, my cousins. I am Cousin to All. Good to see you well. It seems the others are open to hearing your case, considering that they showed up, so I believe it’s possible for a good outcome today.”
The other Shoanti, a shorter human man, approaches the group, ”I am Rollicks in Waves of the Shadde-Quah. Many thanks to the Society for their past help.”
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Before the group walks through the magic portal, Bobbie rummages through her backpack and takes out a wand, whose existence she apparently just remembered, and gives it to Desynthia.
"You know the deal," she says succinctly.
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"Nice to meet you both," she greets the two Shoanti men awkwardly, already regretting that she couldn't spend more time learning from the VC's notes. "Thank you for having us here."
"Every council member is already present?"
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Thanks Bobbie, I have mine too. I should be able to use them without too much troublezzz.
She makes, unconsciously, a buzzing sound, and has some trouble unfocusing her eyes on what seems to be a simple pile of dung. Her usually white hair become somber, dark, black.
But I'll use yourzzz if you want me to.
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The two give their thanks for the pathfinders' willingness to come try to help.
Rollicks in Waves continues, “I see this situation as the actions of a rogue agent. I’ve seen what good the Society can do, so this seems like one individual’s mistake to me. You’ve got a ‘yes’ vote from me. With mine and Cousin to All’s votes, you’ll need to convince two of the others to vote for you as well—majority wins.”
Cousin to All nods. “I think it would be best to get as many of the other councilors on board as possible. Having the quahs unified is in the best interest of not only each individual clan, but to the Shoanti as a whole. Opening them up to further alliances with the Society would benefit both sides, and hopefully lead to the other Shoanti becoming more receptive to interacting with the outside world, which I believe would be a massive boon for our people. The meeting begins immediately.”
At Cousin to All’s summons, the councilmembers walk up a sloping stone ramp to a rise featuring a row of wooden benches. Cousin to All and Rollicks in Waves take their seats toward the left side of the platform. A councilor with a rune pattern on her face formed with tattoo and scar takes a wide-stance seat, idly spinning a greatsword. A slight figure with hood drawn sits cross-legged and hunched, eyes downward.
Another councilor sits forward on her bench, a vulture perched next to her. A long-haired man clad in a robe takes his place, waiting attentively. The last councilor stands near his bench, arms crossed and with a cold glare, auroch hood around his shoulders.
Cousin to All begins. “Thank you, all, for honoring my request and being here today. I understand that this is a situation of the utmost sensitivity, so I appreciate everyone’s continued civility as we discuss this matter."
“As you all know, a Pathfinder Society agent has desecrated the Muschkal Sepulcher—a severe offense. However, the Society would like to right their wrongs. They have sent these representatives to present their case to you, esteemed representatives, on how they would like to repair our bonds and fix this problem.”
The man in the auroch cloak hardens his glare. “What bonds do we have to repair? These tshameks deserve no such opportunity and no forgiveness. This is a Shoanti problem that only the Shoanti can fix, as we always have.”
“At least hear them out, Kemchet Flame Stoker,” Cousin to All bristles. “I understand your frustrations with this situation—believe me, I have some of my own—but the Pathfinder Society wants to make things right. I feel it only fair to allow them that chance.” Flame Stoker scoffs but speaks no further.
The hooded figure looks around the room as everyone speaks. They look almost as if they will speak, but they remain silent, instead studying each person.
The vulture and its owner stare at each Pathfinder in turn before the latter speaks. “The boneslayers reported extensive damage and missing relics from the sepulcher. This site is of the utmost importance to our history, built up over hundreds of years. That legacy can’t be repaired in a day.”
The woman with the greatsword sneers. “They certainly don’t look like much. How could we trust their ability to fix things?” She clangs her sword off the rock platform for emphasis.
Rollicks in Waves shoots a look at her and retorts, “The Society is more capable than you think, Payah Against the Wind. Do at least give them a chance to prove that.”
The long-haired man speaks up. “This has been a most troubling development. I want to hear what these Pathfinders have to say. My only request is that the quahs reach a mutual understanding and maintain a mutual respect on this matter, even if our opinions on the best course of action differ. We must remain unified, even in our disagreements.”
“Certainly a worthy goal, Lake at Dawn. I trust everyone to strive toward that,” Cousin to All remarks. “So, Pathfinders, please approach and state your case. How are you going to undo your misdeeds? How will you settle the Society’s debt?"
"Woof-woof!"
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Corba smiles at the wizard. "Thanks for bringing us here and back, Jia!"
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When meeting the two Shoanti the bard greets them warmly and respectfully.
"Pleased to meet you. I really hope we get the chance to repair all damage: the physical damage done to the Muschkal Sepulcher and the broken trust..."
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Iladora flexes her right hand watching the councilwoman casually swing her two-handed sword. Don't take the bait, Iladora tells herself. Emotions are high, and we have a job to do.
"The other agent was wrong," she says flatly. "It was a mistake to deface your burial site, we won't try to make excuses for him. We're here to return what he took from you."
Lini signals to her cat to stay and this time Droogami immediately complies as the time for games is over.
"Yes, thank-you for the opportunity to discuss this issue with you today."
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Bobbie has no idea what "tshamek" means -but based on the tone, she assumes it isn't polite. "We're not here to argue with that," she nods to the man in the auroch cloak. "Simply to offer whatever help the Society can give you -especially if we're talking about a very long rebuilding. You'll need resources, and men."
"Us five may not look like much," she meets the gaze of the woman toying with her greatsword. "But you can talk to us. And, just so we're clear, we're not here to pretend that nothing bad has happened, and everything will be fine. The Society is ready to take accountability for what one of its agent has done to you. But he was not representative of what the Pathfinders do -we are."
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Corba takes one small step forward and bows.
"Dear councilmembers, we are here to offer our sincere apologies for the actions of the Pathfinder Society agent, to return what was stolen and to repair what was damaged - no matter how long it may take. What the other agent did was horribly wrong, and nothing can excuse his actions."
She briefly meets the eyes of each councilmember.
"If you decide to restore the Muschkal Sepulcher yourself and never speak to us Pathfinders again, we will accept it, of course. However, we truly hope you will grant us permission to make things right."
Corba bows again and steps back.
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The councilmembers seem impressed by your actions and tact. But Kemchet Flame Stoker snorts, "Waste of my time. But whatever, let's see if you can somehow change our minds." At least one council member rolls their eyes at this statement.
And with that, the group has their work cut out for them!
Bobbie
Salvio
Iladora
Desynthia
Corba
Lini
Payah Against the Wind is toned and athletic. She is blind in one eye, with a scar crossing over it from her forehead down her cheek. She has incorporated the scar into her facial tattoo design, which is the rune of the WindSoul, Cilvat. She is wearing a hide vest with a skin-tight, long sleeved hemp shirt beneath and cloth shorts. Against the Wind fights using a greatsword, which she nearly always carries and often idly plays with.
”Blunt and forthright, I like that in a person. What do you know of combat (Profession: Soldier)? Or tell me of your feats of strength or fitness (Strength or Acrobatics) at least. Not all warriors even see combat.”
You also feel she would respect a forceful will (Intimidate).
Lini waits to see what additional skills can influence Lake at Dawn and Kemchet.
Salvio tries to remember anything useful about the truculent scion of the Sklar-Quah.
[Dice=Knowledge (Local) check for Discovery on Kemchet]1d20 + 11
Kemchet Flame Stoker is towering and muscled. He wears an auroch hide cape, with the hood still sporting the animal’s signature horns, and cloth pants. He carries his battle-tested earth breaker on his back. His head is covered in stylized flame tattoos. He has a large burn scar wrapping from his solar plexus around to his back. His cold glare and hard features intimidate those he interacts with.
He glowers at Sylvio, ”What’re you looking at, little man?”
What you know of their culture and how he is representing himself makes you feel very strongly that Kemchet has already made up his mind, at it isn’t to the benefit of the Society.