The Pathfinders take a boat from Absalom up the Iseld river in Cheliax, transfer to a caravan after reaching the Conerica Straits, and finally arrive in Elidir, the capital of Isger. Their contact is a human woman named Karla Wesver, a fellow Pathfinder from Isger and a member of the Horizon Hunters. The team is supposed to meet her at the White Stag Inn, a large and bustling inn on the Conerica River. Traders rub shoulders with merchants and river bargemen as furs and goods are exchanged. A woman sporting an intricate braid and a well‑worn travel outfit waits for them at the door of the inn. Upon seeing them, she waves them over and greets them each with a firm handshake before leading them to a booth in the corner of the taproom.
“Ah, good. You made it. I’m Karla Wesver. Welcome to Elidir, and welcome to the White Stag. It used to be that we Pathfinders had a bit of a strained relationship with the Chelaxian government. It still isn’t all sunshine and roses, but with the opportunity before us, we can now move about in public without fear of conflict or reprisal.
“As you may know, Isger is still a vassal state of Cheliax. The Chelaxians have bled Isger dry for years, but the increased demand for goods like Chelaxian brandy and other luxury items in Molthune and beyond has resulted in Cheliax finally getting off its ass and investing some resources in Isger. Normally these goods go through Druma to reach Molthune, but Druma has been raising import taxes. Cheliax issued an open bounty to explorers the world over: establish a new trail through the Menador Mountains between Isger and Molthune, suitable for pack animals to traverse. So, this presents a rather rare opportunity for us to find a way through the Menador Mountains into Molthune. Calisro Benarry, leader of the Horizon Hunters faction, has a special interest in this bounty. She is hoping you will take to this challenge with gusto. She sent a package ahead for you.”
Karla pats a large brown paper package on the bench next to her before handing over a letter. The package contains a bottle of potent Urglin gin. Once the Pathfinders finish reading the letter, she continues.
“All good then? I’ve arranged for a river barge to take you out to the Menador Mountains and packed some provisions for the journey. Not all of the food you’ll need for the journey, mind—carrying all of that would be too heavy, and likely to attract unwanted attention from the wildlife. You’ll want to forage along the way, if you can. My friend Jasikah Marten will be waiting for you in Canorate. She will help you file your paperwork with the Chelaxian officials, and she’ll also have a warm and comfy bed ready for you.”
Now go out there and make us Horizon Hunters proud. And jealous!
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A scrawny little goblin immediately dives into the brown paper package (not literally, though it looks like she would fit), eagerly extracting its contents while Karla talks. She sets down her spear and unstoppers the bottle of gin, takes a speculative sniff, then sneezes loudly, politely covering her mouth just in time. “Ho ho! That put hair on chest!” After wiping her hands on her dirty leather armor, she passes the bottle and reads the letter.
“Sound like kablooie first mission,” the goblin says in broken Common, “and super nice Calisro give nice gift. Nice Calisro think of us. Horizon Hunters best nice fun faction, but really not much choice. Me Zooska.” she finally adds as an introduction.
A gnome, still covered in grime from the trip so far looks appreciatively at the goblin's helpful information, nodding along with the briefing until he realizes just how much journey is left to be had.
"Who would have thought that a faction called the Horizon Hunters would be so literal?"
It takes Deosil a moment to realize that the last part of Zooska's rapid-fire statements are an introduction.
"Oh, Hi Zooska. I'm Deosil. I'm also one of the followers of Miss Benarry, but I must admit, when I signed up to ally with a faction after passing The Trials, I'd hoped that they were at least a little metaphorical."
Deosil lazily strums a few sad notes on a stringed instrument that he holds in his hands, letting the sounds linger.
As Kazaleti introduces himself, Deosil perks up quite a bit.
"Oh thank goodness, you look terribly capable for an adventure like this. I was a little worried for a bit that it would just be us small-folk"
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A small leshy ambles in. It's rather disheveled. Maybe even a bit confused. A small bird seems to be making its nest in the leshy's shoulder. You recognize a bow strung across its back. But, everything else seems... well... disorganized.
"Hi! I'm High. And this is Harold. Say Hello, Harold." The bird cocks its head to the side, then continues to peck at the vines growing from High.
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“Hi Kazaleti! Hi Deosil! Hi High! Hi Harold!” Zooska chirps with friendly ease. “So much hair!” she exclaims excitedly, glancing over the gnome before looking up at the minotaur in particular. “Want cut? Zooska Barber of Brinestump,” the goblin proclaims proudly as she displays a wickedly sharp razor in eager anticipation.
"Were you waiting on a few more?"
Once finished with their preparations, the Pathfinder team are on their way. The trip up the branch of the Conerica river is uneventful. The roads alongside the river called the Conerica Straights are well‑patrolled by Isger’s army, supported with auxiliary troops from Cheliax.
Once the river becomes too narrow for the barge to easily traverse, the party must disembark and continue on foot. Following the river is still the easiest way forward, as it has carved a relatively flat swath of land out of the hills.
After three days of travel, the Pathfinders spot a campfire just as dusk begins to fall. The river flooding during spring snowmelts has kept the terrain relatively free from large growth. No trees or bushes obscure the view. When approaching the campfire, it is clear that five people have set up camp here. If the Pathfinders want to approach the camp stealthily, it is easy, as all five people in the camp are busy with food preparation and setting up the camp for the night. None of them are keeping watch.
There are three young men and two young women in the camp. They wear practical outfits, well‑suited for the rough terrain, but the outfits and the gear all look very new.
After traipsing through mud for days, Deosil is eager to see people who are in good shape. Having no idea who they might be, he tries to look over the camp to see if there are any signs of obvious ill intent, like hog-tied Pathfinders or ritual sacrifices