Another day aboard the Sixwing Dixie brings more singing from the crew. You'd love to celebrate the trip, but the bottomless bag and the missive from Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin remind you of your quest.
"We'll be in Hinji by the morrow." The dwarven captain speaks. "Chileax is nice this time of year. Not too hot, if you catch my drift." She grins.
Experienced Pathfinders,
We recently made inroads with Lady Victiria of House Junianis, a noble family in Cheliax based in the city of Hinji. She gave us the opportunity to catalogue a series of their ancestral heirlooms that survived the Chelaxian Civil War. We sent a team of novice Pathfinders to perform the assessment, as it seemed a simple enough assignment for fresh agents.
Unfortunately, the assignment wasn’t as simple as it seemed. After the novices’ first day of examination, they did not return to the Junianis manor. Lady Victiria attempted to contact them using the resources at her disposal, and then reported to the Grand Lodge that our agents were missing.
Your task is to find our four missing Pathfinders and, if someone was responsible for their disappearances, make sure they are no longer a danger to the Society. If you find any of our agents, bring them to the Junianis manor. Lady Victiria has agreed to harbor any Pathfinders you find until your investigation is complete. Although the Junianis family has many connections in Hinji, it is important that you do not visit the Junianis manor except to drop off the missing agents for protection. You can go to Lady Junianis for additional information as a last resort, but relying on her for help might jeopardize our future relations. If the worst has happened and you find that the agents have died in the field, be sure to respectfully retrieve their remains and belongings.
After you bring the missing agents to the manor, complete the cataloguing of the heirlooms and report back to Absalom with the agents or their remains. Included with this letter are basic dossiers on each of the agents sent to Hinji, as well as a bag of holding and scrolls of gentle repose that are only to be used for the missing Pathfinders should they prove necessary. It is important that you use discretion—they were likely targeted for being members of the Society, so don’t go about flashing wayfinders and demanding answers.
Begin your search at the Waypoint Inn, where the agents were staying. The innkeeper is expecting you.
Explore, Report, Cooperate.
Amburs Valsin
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You take a moment to double check the Dossiers on the missing Pathfinders.
Tanno Kembers
- Tanno Kembers is a human man who made a living as a self-taught tomb robber.
- He first came into contact with the Pathfinder Society at a dig site in Nex, which he reached before the Society did.
- After assessing his skills and artifact collection and determining his willingness to work toward more noble ends, the Society gave him a field commission.
- Tanno is skilled at disarming traps, and is wary of potential foes at all times.
Selia Torossel
- Selia is an elf historian who specializes in the Chelaxian Civil War. She is perhaps slightly overzealous in her desire to uncover the truth of what brought Thrune to power, a dangerous topic of study.
- She is strongly affiliated with the Grand Archive faction.
- She is a novice practitioner of divination.
Jespya
- Jespya is a halfling martial artist, a skilled unarmed combatant with a reputation for bravery.
- They joined the Pathfinder Society after their partner died in the field.
- They are one of Marcus Farabellus’s favored pupils for their efficient yet overwhelming combat tactics.
- They were assigned to this mission as protection for the other, less combat-capable agents.
- They requested not to be resurrected in the event of their death.
Kiiruba
- Kiiruba appears to be a human woman, but she is actually a kitsune who favors her tailless human form.
- She is proficient in diplomacy and emissary’s duties and dreams of seeing the world.
- She was recruited to the Society through the Lantern Lodge. This is her first mission after completing her Confirmation in Absalom to become a full agent.
In a disheveled mansion upon an overgrown estate riddled with weeds and derelict shacks occupied by unbudging transients, a halfling is hard at work with needle and thread.
”Hold still, sir, lest your delicate skin suffer incidental perforation…”
The sharp implement conveniently before the neck of his human employer!
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"If you perforate me, Smee, I shall make a similar cut to your pay!"
With unadulterated and decidedly Taldan condescension, a human man of thin and delicate frame with cutting features and empathetically cruel eyes snorts in derision. At his side, sheathed in an ivory scabbard, a gleaming blade of impossibly shiny steel, the implement itself in paradoxical contrast with the rest of his worn effects: What appears to be the tired remnants of fashions of yesteryear soiled and stained from unlaundered usage cling with failing seam to his entire outfit; once-expensive clothing of highest tailoring faded and utterly neglected as though the passage of time unto them had created more wrinkles upon themselves than upon their wearer.
Himself of middle age, his hairline only starting to recede by millimeters, greasy and draping over spoiled features that belie the illusion of nobility.
And to boot...
"My payment, sir, is belated unto your death, sir, that your forebears bid me by way of a policy of modest life insurance, bound by the strictest package of anti-fraudulence provisions, sir..."
"Sir, only that you cannot cut my pay, sir, for that it does not exist yet, and that, when it does, it's legal disbursement is out and away from your cutting hand, sir, so to speak"
He tries using the same metaphor that his master chose to employ in an effort to let him 'in' on the very joke he was making at his expense... yet it seems both layers of the conversation were simply lost upon the ultimately vacant expression of the man whose clothes he had been hard at work "brushing up" these past hours by way of his look of non-understanding. No bother. Allowing his conversation partner time to let the words sink in, they merely slide off, and so, he concludes the conversation with empty praise, something he knows will always work with the shallow vapid elite.
"You do cut a fine figure in this at the very least. Should we endeavor to wash them now?"
"A bit"
"Very well then, sir"
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A large, thick necked man leans against the railing of the ship, looking out. "I think we're getting close." He turns back to the others. His hands are scarred and multiple places show prison tattoos.
He turns his head to pop his neck and then punches into his hand. "Time to find our crew and spring 'em. Maybe deliver a message if someone messed with them."
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Behind Jaxon is a small green goblin keeping to herself. She has a set of pipes around her neck and is munching on a large green pickle as she walks down the gangway.
"Hullo Paffinders. I's Lokaloka. Ambrus Valsin sends me here to find other Paffinders. Are yous the ones I's meeting also?"
She walks up to Jaxon. "Pickle?" she asks, holding her half-eaten pickle to him.
Smee takes the "Pickle!" with a rude and grasping hand and chomps it down.
"Yeff we are t'e oneff we haff been waitingff ffor" he says with a mouthful of brine. Swallows.
He avoids Jaxon for the rest of the scenario, having not sized him up until after he had de-pickled him, and realizing (but not wanting of course to admit) his mistake.
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Jaxon stares at the goblin and then eyes the pickle for a moment. He glances at Smee and then takes the offered pickle almost out of spite to the hireling. The thug takes a bite and chews the briny piece, showing his teeth to Lokaloka. "Not bad, goblin. I've definitely had worse... Is it better when you someone hasn't taken a bit out of it?"
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An incredibly massively muscled Goblin, standing at least 3'3", maybe even 3' 5" in armor steps up. He wears a breastplate and carries a heavy pick. A rapier and daggers are at his waist. He is dark green skinned but actually appears to be much neater than the average Goblin. He also has a pack across his back and what appears to be two small casks on his back and the back of his belt. You also see a metal flask riding above a dagger on one hip and another one stuck in a sash on his armor. "Greetings! Me be Grog! Always nice to meet fellow pathfinder! Me brew good beverages, want a drink?”
With that he pulls a bottle out of his pack, uncorks it and passes it to over.
”Nothing fancy this time, just honey mead. Much better than last batch”
When he gets close you also notice he is nowhere as, well, fragrant, as the usual Goblin. In fact he may even be wearing some light cologne. You also notice a wooden symbol of a tankard around his neck.
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Kang is a tanned Tian-Shu man, slight in figure and awkward in demeanour when around other people. Yet, you might notice that his self-consciousness fades away when he doesn't realise people are looking at him. He is rather well-groomed yet careless about his appearance at the same time - hair is neatly combed back but loose strands are sticking out, and he doesn't seem to have shaven in days. The robes he wears is rather fine and exquisite, but is wrinkled at many places. At least the staff he carries in one hand seems rather exquisite, a metal staff that shines with precious inlays of gold.
"Wow, not one but two goblins," he exclaims rather excitedly, then blushes when he realises he had spoken aloud. He introduces himself in a rather mousy voice, "Um, my name? My name is Zhao Kang, but call me Kang. I originate from near Goka, but that was many seasons ago now." He looks rather whimsical when he says that.
As you finish introducing yourselves, you take a moment to sit down and study the dossiers of missing Pathfinders.
There are also three magical scrolls, all of 5th rank. They are scrolls of >Peaceful Rest<. The bag also contains all of the Pathfinder Society items your requested.
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The latecomer is a large man in heavy armor. The longsword at his side is well used and the shield slung across his shoulder is emblazoned with the symbol of Iomedae. At almost sixty years old he remains a powerful and imposing figure though at times it seems as though he tires of the adventuring life. His introduction is brief and efficient.
"My name is Simon Osbourne, former knight-captain of the Taldan phalanx now retired and currently a Pathfinder agent for reasons known only to The Inheritor."
Don Jurri, Lokaloka, Simon and Zhao manage to combine their knowledge to recall a few facts about Hinji's criminal enterprise.
The criminal underworld of Hinji almost entirely revolves around the production and illicit trade of a singular narcotic: ice tears. This ingested drug bestows visions of the past and “possible futures” to those under its effects, and its trade is largely controlled by criminal gangs that abuse those who become addicted.
The Sixwing Drake reaches the docks just after runrise. A pleasantly quiet trip is now filled with the hustle and bustle of crew and dockworkers loading supplies, taking inventory, and getting you out of the way. The Wayport Inn isn't too far off.
"Greetings and Salutations!" A gnome greets you as you enter. "My name is Sellinore, and as long as you can pay the bill and you don't bring trouble, we'll get along just fine!" They hop off the stool and clap towards one of the workers, who shoots awake and scrambles to get your stuff. "Ah, help these days..." Sellinore shrugs.
"Wait a moment, are you... Pathfinders, by any chance? You match a description... Ah yes! My good friend Lady Junianis said you would come here to look for the other agents." They climb back up the stool and pick 4 keys off the wall. "The Society paid up until next week, so I've left their rooms alone, and opened up some rooms for yourselves." They hand you the keys. "Now the sooner you finish this the sooner I can open more rooms. Best of luck, now!" They sit back down on the stool.
Your rooms are rather plain, but it is a comfy enough place to sleep.
Grog finds that a few mugs of ale and some gold loosens tongues. Also the ale is pretty good, too. One of the patrons hints at checking out Selia's room.
You discover a letter in Selia’s room from one Dr. Howell requesting that Selia meet her at the gambling den Snake Tails to receive some historical context for an artifact in the Junianis family’s collection. A lack of adventuring gear in Tanno’s room suggests he accompanied Selia, while Jespya’s and Kiiruba’s rooms are somewhat unpacked, suggesting they left later.
Lokaloka finds pickles are the best pairing with ale, and makes a critical discovery from one of the pickle & beer loving patron. Upon hearing Dr. Howell, the man laughs. "Dr. Howell? He used to live in Hinji. He was into sociology, not history. Besides he moved out a year ago. Whoever this Dr. Howell is, they're lyin'!"
Closely examining the letter, it's clear Dr. Howell shows little real historical knowledge of the Chelaxian Civil War. The terms used in the letter show a lack of knowledge beyond House Thrune’s most common propaganda. Furthermore, the handwriting is inconsistent, suggesting the letter was penned by multiple individuals.
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Don Jurri hands Sellinore his petty coat, mistaking the gnome for a halfling, and the "halfling" for a manservant, thus, presuming that it will be put into a closet nearby or kept with other staff. When lead up to his modest accommodations, he curls hose nose as he traces a finger along a window sill, inspecting for dirt or dust.
"Hmmf"
Perturbed, he makes to investigate the other rooms, being that, according to his own perception of things, obviously it ought be none other than Master Donatellus Jurrious Orwellious that receives the finest of rooms, and especially as considering that the baseline was less than fabulous, to boot.
Don Jurri inspects the rooms, seeing how all of them are of a similar quality. Certainly there must be something exquisite about the room he chose. He finds the rooms to be decently furnished for a commoner but not one of his stature. He finds a makeshift library that contains a dusty book, filled with propaganda about how House Thrune cleaned up Chileax and how they will lead the land into prosperity. Some of the facts in this book contradict some of the facts on the letter- it doesn't add up at all.
Jaxon makes a mess of Selia's room and discovers a flyer for Snake Tails, a gambling den in the Sailors' Row district. It has directions to get there.
Simon's inquiry ends with a prolonged conversation with an older elven woman, her gaze never leaving the window and her hand firmly grasping a glass of wine. "Be careful who you talk to. The Daughters of Cocytus. are in a turf war with The Sons of the Tear. Daughters are an all-ladies' group. They make their money with ice tears and kidnapping people. All of the money you're carrying around makes you a juicy target." She takes another sip of wine without breaking her gaze or tone of voice. "They're up to something big, I think they got hired recently for a big job, but I try not to pay attention."
Seems like you have found all of the information you could from here. What will you do now?
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"Hmm, it's strange. Selia couldn't have been taken in by the contents of this letter, if indeed she is a specialist in Chelaxian history. Oh dear, oh dear." And here, Kang starts wringing his hands in worry.
"I guess we pick up the trail from that gambling den?" Kang does not look forward to that, however.
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Don Jurri peaks over the brute's shoulder.
What is this simple thug hiding from me? He thinks to himself conspiratorily. Looks like a map!
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Jaxon feel someone behind him and turns slowly to see Don Jurri. "Can I help you?" He hands the knight the flyer. "A flyer for a gambling den named Snake Tails. Same one that was mentioned in the letter. Maybe we ought to head there and check it out."
Jaxon pops a few of the knuckles on his hand. "Chance of finding a rat there is probably high."
Snake Tails is located in a slightly more run‑down part of Hinji, within the Sailors’ Row district. Your journey is direct, although you earn some envious stares from some of the vagrants in the neighborhood.
Snake Talis is a gambling den, and judging from some of the scents, you suspect it is also a location to purchase illicit drugs. Glares greet you upon entry. No one likes a snitch.
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As the group heads to the bar to ask questions, Jaxon glances towards the back and sees a face he recognizes. He turns and makes a beeline to the wiry cutthroat.
"Hey, uh, I know you? Pat, right? No, that's not it...Pete, it's Pete. Yeah...Lil Pete. That's it." He winks at the guy and flashes one of his tattoos. "Name's Jaxon. I'm looking for a friend of mine. Elf egghead named Selia, probably with a spitfire halfling bodyguard. She came in to talk to a Dr. Howell. Know anything about that?"
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Simon scowls as he follows the pair into the bar. "I don't have time for these shenanigans." He scans the room and picks a likely target that seems a bit too interested in the contents of his mug. He grins ferally and advances threateningly. "You look like someone that would like to keep the last of his teeth. Tell me where to find Dr. Howell."