Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry invites the Pathfinder agents to meet her at the helm of the Glorious Payoff, where she navigates the vessel down the Garundi coast. This crew has been traveling together for several days now and have had ample time to get acquainted.
So, before we begin, why don't you introduce yourselves?
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The Vishkanya isn't in his best form on a ship as he does prefer to walk on the ground. His splint mail is not the best clothes to wear on a ship anyway. His shield and his machete show further his warrior's tendency. During the presentations he says:
Nicccce to meet you. My name'sssss Riddle of Nowhere. Coming from Jalmeray and wandering where the missionssss lead me. Let'ssss ssssee if we will reveal ssssome new magical mysssteries during thissss journey.
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"It looks like a toad..."
The first, and last, words our future brave hero would hear from her male progenitor, who not without some biological statistical backing, had reason to believe the human baby - born with an odd color, a stubby tail, and warts all over - was not rightfully his by paternal rite.
Truth is, "tainted" blood can easily manifest qualities - even unusual qualities - in non-repeating generations, casting credulity over the declinement of hereditary belonging. Some demon creeping between supposed lovers, leaving it's corrupted seed in a cold nest to fester the bond it's presence had interrupted. Or so the dark fantasy crawls through the mind like some stinging shadow.
"Rospo" or not - as the Chelaxian Mythos calls the namesake taken by a powerful race of the Outer Rifts - Hezrioux had grown up always liking her name, and in her home of Westcrown, has always enjoyed the company of the other children that were like her, even as she had never come to know her father, whom too, she had heard her mother describe him as a "man of words" - an axiom that would blossom in the very depths of her being, and resonate at her soul's core, to ignite a burning passion for literature, history, cosmology, and religion.
An apple not fallen far, perhaps.
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Herkemer is a blond haired halfling wearing worn leather armor. His hair is shoulder length, but usually tied back in a thin queue on his head. He sports a rapier and handful of daggers on his person. He seems a bit wide-eyed at the vastness of the sea, and the view of the verdant coastland to the south.
"Hello all, my name is Herkemer Halfshanks. Herk to my friends. Just left my first mission, it started on a boat near Garund also, in Merab specifically. Had a tussle with some angry sports fans. Damn glad to meet you, and see what this mission is all about."
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"Hezru" the tiefling woman pronounces her name phonetically.
Tall and broad, but bespectacled with thin wires supporting small reading lenses, there is a bit of an erudite air that hangs about the confident posture our runic hero poses in her standing gait. Strapped to her torso, a breastplate emblazoned with intricate lines in an old language - a similar pattern circumscribing every inch of the large club secured to her back.
She steps between the company rogues, unafraid to let them flank her "I am new to the Society, but have read up enough to know that our aims are shared. You might not be surprised to discover that those who sail the high seas often possess a wide array of bits of powerful knowledge. The synthesis of which might be a greater sum than it's parts. I myself am no sailor, but my ambition is that the knowledge I have accumulated over my time shall suffice as Protection over our band"
During the several-days voyage, she helps with the manual labor by day, and burns through many candles by night, a collection of manuscripts and journals feeding her voracious appetite for the written word. Each morning, she focuses her energies in a short series of rites that refresh the soft lustre of dweomercraft etched into her greatclub that reads: Sun-Marssyl
Sun-, Diacritic Rune of Preservation
Usage: drawn on a rune
This spiraling diacritic channels the magic of a rune outwards, then back to the same location, allowing a rune to reconstitute itself. After the base rune is invoked, the rune automatically Traces itself back upon the same target.
Special: You can have only one copy of sun-, diacritic rune of preservation applied at a given time, and once you invoke it, you cannot Etch or Trace it again for 10 minutes.
Marssyl, Rune of Impact
Usage: drawn on a bludgeoning weapon or unarmed Strike
This rune magnifies force many times over as it passes through the rune’s concentric rings. The weapon deals 1 bludgeoning splash damage per weapon damage die. If the weapon is a melee weapon, the rune-bearer is immune to this splash damage.
Invocation: The weapon vibrates as power concentrates within it. The next successful Strike made with the weapon before the end of its wielder’s next turn deals an additional die of damage and the target must succeed at a Fortitude save against your class DC or be pushed 10 feet in a straight line backwards, or 20 feet on a critical failure.
A cloaked young woman approaches, but something seems very "off" about her. Every time you try to assess the details of her appearance the colors seem to shift from your expectations. On focusing (perhaps after a double take) you notice that her being seems not entirely substantial. Her form seems... spectral.
Despite that, she seems overly enthusiastic.
Hey everyone! I'm Lidya. I was a Pathfinder agent until...
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Soon after a frustrated looking tiefling, tall with ruby-red skin and milky opaque eyes strides up from behind remarking
Please don't get into your whole story Lidya.
After exhaling he looks around at the group.
I'm Morthos, her brother. And I am a Pathfinder agent.
During their time aboard the ship, the two seem to fuss over chores alot, but they both seem determined to contribute!
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The tattooed and bald Vudrani man introduced himself simply but cordially to the other Pathfinders. "Call me Zisiro; I'm here to help."
He is not particularly loquacious for a Pathfinder though he is always smiling. He can usually be found in random places helping the sailors with manual labor on the Glorious Payoff, which he navigates nimbly. When he moves, it is with frenetic energy: leaping down the last two steps, sliding down a ladder instead of climbing down, or swinging from one place to another on the mast nets.
As a splash of salt crashes over the bow of the Glorious Payoff, Calisro Benarry deftly steers her ship through a hidden channel, carefully navigating through the barely visible rock and coral that protrude slightly from the water’s surface. Behind the Payoff, a slightly smaller ship—the Sea Sparkle—follows, making every effort to follow Benarry’s course as closely as possible. Off the port hull, the deep green of the Garundi coast is illuminated by the late afternoon sun.
“See those gulls?” Benarry shouts over the flapping of the sails, “that’s the sandbar we’ll be dropping you off at. Barely sticks up over the waves, but the seabirds flock over it to feast on crab.
“As I explained earlier, Vidrian—you might have known it as Sargava not that long ago—needs explorers to chart the trade routes to the south that they couldn’t use back when it was ruled by Cheliax. Simple enough bit of adventuring, but the new nation’s been having trouble with the Free Captains of late. Turns out when Vidrian broke free of Cheliax, the locals stopped paying the pirates protection money, and now they’re the number-one plunder target in the Shackles. What’s more, the pirates have set up a blockade preventing our ships from making it down to Vidrian to assist.
“Thankfully, we’ve got someone on the inside. Stella Fane, a Free Captain with ties to the Firebrands and the Pirate Council, has been in contact with the Society. She and members of the Society’s leadership have put together a fairly clever plan to help the Society’s ships pass through the pirate blockades unharmed. The Wind and the Waves willing, the Payoff and the Sparkle can sail to Vidrian, no problem. While we’re doing that, I’ve arranged transport for you to Port Peril to meet with Fane and get her to sign this contract making the whole thing official—she may be a pirate, but she’s the kind that holds to her word. You’ll need to avoid drawing too much attention until after the deal is done. Once she’s signed the contract her friends in the Pirate Council will ratify it and there won’t be much the lesser captains can do. Be careful. Anyone looking to put a stop to this need only ensure that contract never gets signed.
"Any questions?"
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"And what does she look like? I mean, how will we know its her?" pipes in Herkemer. It was protecting a book and an author last time, now its locating a pirate queen and getting her a piece of paper. The missions of a Pathfinder agent were apparently without end. Herkemer knows a little about the underworld dealings in Absalom and other nearby places, but he wracks his brain looking for any information about pirates, Free Captains, Firebrands, or the Pirate Council as these all seem like unfamiliar terms to him.
"Yes, yes, that's sorted. Can't guarantee you won't get your feet wet, but the sea's calm enough at the moment anyway. We have a contact coming to pick you up, a freediver named Hlar. She's going to pick you up along her route, so you may be with her for a while, too. Your meeting isn't until this evening. Fane will probably want to meet you on the town somewhere, and Hlar should be able to help you find her. When you do see her... you won't miss her. She's... a lot.
"She’s a recent figure on the Shackles scene, as is her ship, the Risen Albatross. Word is, the Chelaxians bought her crew out from under her and tossed her overboard at sea. Some say she died and it’s her ghost sailing the waters and sinking slaver boats and Chelaxian ships left and right. I don’t believe it myself—never heard of a ghost that could put away as much rum as she’s been known to, that’s for sure.”