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A robust looking kobold wearing loose linens typical of desert life and carrying a single khopesh on his hip that looks to styled like a lightning bolt with the hooked part dipping downwards at a harsh angle reaches out a hand to shake to anyone willing to take it. As you look at his hand and the bits of his skin peeking out from his large swathes of armored plating it is easy to see that his scales shimmer a nearly translucent sky blue with each also having swirls and spirals of white across them.
"They call me Boltblade, the Desert Storm. Renowned gladiator from the Katapesh ring. Well... soon to be renowned anyway, I guess I did lose my first match pretty bad but now I'm training here with the Pathfinder Society after my aunty made some arrangements to get me a signed up with them so I'll be proper strong and famous too. My aunty is this cool jaathoom that my parents used to do a lot of work for so that I could be born with genie magic or something, she's really cool and strong! But I honestly all I can really do magic wise is sometimes I can shoot lightning."
He holds up his khopesh and tilts up his helmet to show a big prideful grin. "I am pretty good with a sword though and sometimes people have heard of me enough to want to talk to me so hopefully that's of some help."
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A tall woman of obviously Kellid ancestory enters the room. Tall, she walks with surprising grace. While her face mostly screams Kellid her dress is Varasian, and her movement is that of a dancer.
While she doesn't bear the traditional heavy weapons of a Kellid, a dagger and rapier hang at her waist. A glance at her hands don't show the calluses of a swordswoman though. Rather they are covered in ink. Stepping back you might even notice her robe is that of a scholar.
She glances at the kobold a couple of times. "A kobold gladiator...That is...unusual."
She extends her hand to BoltBlade "I am Teja Khellekdottir, scholar."
She looks around the room. "You may have heard of my father. One of these days I'm going to catch up with the old man..."
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A vine covered Leshy with an oversized white pumpkin for a head looks around curiously, before the vines adjust to form what almost seem to be spectacles.
They excitedly rub their hands together "Another mission, this is so exciting. I'm happy I took that sabbatical from teaching at Magaambya to learn more about the modern world. I'm so happy to be here."
After being asked by Venture-Captain Rahaksenwe, who leads the first Pathfinder lodge in Arcadia, to represent the Society in Niishan’s Festival of Fire, the Pathfinders begin the adventure as they arrive in town late in the morning before the start of the celebration.
The town of Niishan is bustling with people—mostly Mahwek humans, but also halflings, beastkin, and several small wooden humanoids, among others. Children run through the dirt streets, dodging around grown-ups, their happy screams adding to the calls and chatter of adult voices. Smiles abound, though some seem to carry a hint of anxiety or trepidation, maybe even just a touch of fear.
Star-shaped gourds and stalks heavy with scarlet corn wait to be harvested in small gardens that surround the circular earth lodges where townsfolk live and work. Smoke rises into the crisp autumn air from the homes’ dome-like roofs.
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A dwarf adorned in heavy garb and braided beard, both rather thick, makes his way through the dirt streets. A sizeable miner's pick is slung over his back. Dodging chidren and wooden humanoids alike, he makes no effort to his his annoyance. "Too busy here, if you ask me. Too many people."
"Too much exuberance. Too must joy." he grumbles. "Can't for the life of me figure out why the Venture-Captain would assign me to attend some festival. Never been much of one for parties. Besides, I don't see much worth celebrating around here."
"Now, if this place weren't so crowded, so sunny. If it had a bit more earth piled atop of it,then it might be something worth celebrating, if you were to ask me." The dwarf huffs. "But no one ever does."
Upon spying a gathering of other that he considers looking out of place among the locals, the dwarf approaches. "I assume you all got stuck with this assignment, too." he says. "The name's Grommfell, if you care." The crabby, old dwarf makes no effort to extend a hand or otherwise make any gesture in greeting.
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"Then just enjoy the ale and the firelight." suggests Teja.
"I mean, they are paying for our time and our entertainment. Maybe this is Rahaksenwe's way to say thank-you for previous work done?" She looks around and takes out a notebook.
"I'm going to take some notes of the celebrations here. You can learn a lot about a culture from what they choose to commemorate."
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Sounds of bottles doing a clink-clank noise can be heard from the entrance. In comes an elf, tired but still manages to move with an elegant posture. "Apologies for my tardiness, I am Erevan! Your friendly neighborhood Herbologist." The elf, with short blonde hair and deep green eyes, shakes hands with everyone in the party. "I'm looking forward to working with you all. You have my utmost... Ooh, what is that?" He turns his attention to the gourds and stalks of corn.
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Though their arrival attracts interested stares from the townsfolk, halfling Mayor Deyahi, collects them before they have a chance to do anything.
"Welcome back to Niishan!" she tells you warmly and kisses you on both cheeks.
The mayor leads the way to her home, stepping down onto the sunken floor of her earth lodge and gesturing for everyone to sit on the cushions scattered around the fire. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” the mayor says as she hands out flatbreads filled with meat, squash, and herbs. “Our Festival of Fire starts tonight when we celebrate the turning of the seasons and our town’s continued prosperity. When Niishan was founded, a group of four brave explorers were the first to spend the night in the area. They lit a fire and through the night battled or befriended all manner of spirits from the prairies until sunrise, allowing them to make peace with the spirits of the land and start building the town.
“Each year, we honor their memories with a great fire, and honor the four people who have done the most for the town over the last year by giving them the Fire Watch. They protect the fire—and the town—from the prairie’s spirits, soothing those they can, and fighting off those they cannot. This year, the year the star gun Hatahasi came back to us, we have decided this honor, one of the greatest we can bestow, can only belong to the Pathfinder Society. We have also decided, in the spirit of understanding, that we will honor the Pathfinder Society’s traditions—though there were only four heroes on our first night, we know the Society traditionally sends four to six agents together, and so the town’s people agreed that all who came would be allowed to participate in the Fire Watch.
"Normally, those who will be in the Fire Watch also lead our festival preparations. Though you have only just arrived, I hope you will help with the final details. This will also let you get to know our town, and for our people to better know you. You may even see some of the spirits that have decided to join Niishan at previous Festivals of Fire. Please know that though these spirits may look monstrous to you, our relationship with them means a great deal to the people of Niishan.”
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Teja, notebook in hand asks "Can you tell me more about the original four explorers? What were their names? Were there any particular spirits they faced? Oh, and do the same spirits come back each year?" she asks, providing plenty of time for the mayor to answer each question before going on to the next.
Teja, notebook in hand asks "Can you tell me more about the original four explorers? What were their names? Were there any particular spirits they faced? Oh, and do the same spirits come back each year?" she asks, providing plenty of time for the mayor to answer each question before going on to the next.
The mayor answers her to the best of her abilities.
"Legends have not mentioned who the original four explorers were, but we know that for thousands of years, the people of Niishan have celebrated the Festival of Fire, a weeklong holiday marking the turning of the seasons and the town’s continued prosperity. On the first night of the festival, a ceremonial fire recalls the night four explorers first arrived in the area. They lit a fire and fought off and soothed all manner of spirits from the prairies until sunrise, allowing them to make peace with the spirits of the land and start building the town. Since then, Niishan has continued the tradition, eager to remember the founders and celebrate their bravery. Four people who have contributed the most to the town each year are given the honor of the Fire Watch, spending the night at the ceremonial fire, and fighting off or soothing any spirits who arrive.
"As for the spirits, nothing in particular, but some of the spirits are hateful, and we do not know how they will react to Fire Watchers who are strangers to Niishan. But we have seen what the Pathfinder Society can do and are sure you will be able to handle whatever comes. Like in the Inner Sea, we believe spirit is one of the four fundamental essences of magic. But in Arcadia, we believe everything has spirit. Here, it is not just you and I that have spirit, but also the plains themselves, and everything in them. Some of those spirits manifest into a material form like yours or mine. Some of these spirits are cruel, others are curious.”
"The bonfire brings spirits in to investigate, just as it did for our founders. The people know that if the Fire Watch cannot drive them away or befriend them, the spirits can do great harm to us. But I have faith you will not let us down."
"Ve vill gladly 'elp vous vith ze preparations! I am also curious vat ve need to do."
“There is still much to be done before the festival begins, such as food preparation, keeping town's kids occupied, building bonfire. You can also relax in our local hot spring, if you like, and we also make talismans for protection during the festival.” the mayor tells Zhamie, though she struggles to understand what the Zhamie is trying to say.
"Follow me, I will bring you to Brownjax to help him cook." she motions to them.
Upon their arrival, a small, wooden humanoid calls out from beside a large cook fire, “Over here. You have to try this!” The figure lacks a face, but otherwise looks like many of the townsfolk. He’s dressed in Mahwek clothing and has “hair” and “mutton chops” made out of moss and leaves. He lifts a wooden spoon the size of a halfling’s arm out of a large clay pot. “I’m Brownjax,” he says. “I’ve been put in charge of preparing for tonight’s feast. This is one of our favorite traditional dishes here. I don’t eat, so you have to tell me if it’s good!”
"I lived more than a decade in Niishan, but I am still fascinated with humans!" he shares with them. "Anyway, Put your back into this!" Brownjax presents them with a huge bowl of snakebush berries, then adds them to a pot where pureed berries are already being cooked down.
“I am currently preparing this sweet dessert. Mash them further and give it a try. We have some giant bee honey if we need to sweeten it.” he tells them.
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Whitegourd spends a bit of time mediating on his ancestors that once visited these land.
Ageless Spirit for Nishan Lore today (+12)
Professor Whitegourd spends a bit of time examining the nearby terrain, trying to kill two birds with one stone by figuring out the best place to send some local kids to hunt for berries and keep them out of trouble.
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"Wow! We're honored to be part of this momentous tradition." Upon hearing the mayor's initial briefing, he shares what he knows about Arcadian spirits being undead, fey, giant, and plant creatures.
Inside Brownjax's hut, Erevan examines the berries closer and treats them like one of the herbs he uses in his alchemical concoction.
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"Watch the fire. Fend off spirits." Gromfell murmurs. "Seems simple enough."
The dwarf is pleased when the topic turns to food. When offered to crush some berries into pulp, he obliges.
As the berries give and squish, one can almost see the semblence of a smile forming beneath the grumpy dwarf's thick beard.
"What's this for? Shouldn't need it." Gromfell grumbles when handed the elixir. Despite his annoyed protest, it is notable that the dwarf readily pockets the vial anyways.
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"ah! Merci! Erevan! I'm sure it vill be useful! If vous do not vant it, Grommfell, I can take it" Zhamie tells the dwarf sweetly...
"What!?! Oh! No! N-not necessary." Gromfell protests with a stammer, apparently not much used to having others pay much heed to his gripes. "I'll just hold onto it--in case I need it to douse the fire. Or some such." He quietly grumbles, trying to draw less attention to himself.
Professor Whitegourd fetches the children to gather more berries, teaching them where to look in the terrain. Zhamie prepares herb that enhances the mixtures flavor. Boltblade is having trouble with the masher, probably because it is oddly shaped for his hands. Teja applies her knowledge that keeps sweet sweeter and long-lasting. Erevan struggles to incorporate alchemical technique to the mashed berries they are making. Grommfell is having an easy time crushing the berries, extracting more juice from them.
However, while they are working on the dessert, there is something that is happening. Salt and pepper fly toward their mix, the masher suddenly shifts when used, and correct ingredients fly out of their hands when the Pathfinders add them to the mix!
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However, while they are working on the dessert, there is something that is happening. Salt and pepper fly toward their mix, the masher suddenly shifts when used, and correct ingredients fly out of their hands when the Pathfinders add them to the mix!
Gromfell ducks as the ingredients fly. "I just knew something bad would happen." He mutters.
Overall, the group has made berry puddings. Brownjax portions the dessert and presents six portions of the dish.
"Thank you so much for your help." he tells them. "Here, take these, you can offer these to the spirits to befriend them during the Fire Watch!"
"Since you are done here, why don't you also help in building a bonfire with Mekobin, he is over there!" Brownjax points into the direction where the bonfire is about to be built.
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Mekobin, a Mahwek Niishani, is among those gathering ceremonial items for the fire. He is met by the Pathfinders on the outskirts of town. He is a tall, muscular man wearing pale blue hide clothing with a blue bison embroidered on his breech cloth. He frowns as he looks up to the Pathfinders. “Pathfinders! I am Mekobin, and we are building a bonfire. One of the last things we do is gather ceremonial fuel for the fire. The mayor says I should have you accompany me, so you can learn what the prairies provide. What we gather, we give back in the fire. They say the founders used these same materials to help call the spirits and soothe them during the first Fire Watch.”
"Follow me." Mekobin leads them out of town and explains how they collect and use the ceremonial fuel the same way the town’s four founders did long ago.
He picks up a rust-colored ground vine. "This is a sunsmoke vine. When burned as fuel, this rust-colored ground vine strangely emits a bright yellow smoke that is said to pacify spirits, as if they were out in the sun all day. Collect as much as you can and gather them for me."
Pathfinders move about the field and gather the needed vine in their own different ways. Boltblade pulls enough that he can carry. Teja makes sure she is getting the correct vine. Prof Whitegourd takes advantage of its color against the background. Erevan picks more for the group, as well as Zhamie. Meanwhile, Grommfell seems to be struggling to pull out enough amount for himself.
Once they have gathered enough sunsmoke vine, they come together and bring them to Mekobin when suddenly... a bison charges toward them! Mekobin easily avoids the charging bison.
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Boltblade is faced with a dilemma, drop the vines and roll away or hold his ground and be trampled by the bison. He grits his teeth and opts to turn around, cover the vines with his body and get trampled in order to protect the samples.
"I will protect the vines, mission first!" he yells, as he stares down the bison and hoof prints cover his armor by the end of it.
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Zhamie rushes to where Teja and Boltblade are peeling themselves off the forest floor. She gets to work treating them.
She pulls out a throwing knife. "'Old still mes amis! Zis vill sting a bit." She makes an incision and cleans out the wounds.
Taking out her sewing kit, she sutures the wounds closed before covering them with a clean bandage.