After a trip by sea and river from Absalom to the Osirian city of An, the party reaches the Lodge there. Venture-Captain Norden Balentiir inclines his head in welcome as he opens the door and welcomes everyone into a modest office. “I’m glad you are on time—and with little to spare,” he says as he checks outside and then closes the door. “Your ship leaves soon, and I’ve taken care of the details.” He places a neat stack of travel papers on the small desk and sits down.
“I’m pleased that you volunteered to visit the remote monastery of Tar Kuata on the Society’s behalf. The monastery is west of here in the Barrier Wall Mountains, overlooking the desert known as the Footprints of Rovagug. Believe me, it's as hospitable as it sounds. As to the mission: you may already know that the Society seeks pieces of the Sky Key, a strange relic broken into multiple pieces by dwarves long ago and distributed among the descendants of the last king of Jormurdun. It seems one of the descendants may have found her way to Tar Kuata, and we believe the Ouat monks that also reside there still have a piece of the key. Travel there, meet with them, confirm our intelligence, and barter for the relic as needed. Do aim to be respectful; few Pathfinders have traveled to Tar Kuata, so you’ll need to earn the monks’ goodwill—and perhaps even pave the way for future collaboration.
“To that end, I am sending you with this.” Balentiir lifts a heavy bag and adds it to the desk. “You may be familiar with bags able to hold more than seems possible, and this one is filled with grain. I understand Tar Kuata has had a poor harvest this year, and this should help you get off on the right foot in negotiations. Any questions?”
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A female elf armed with a bow, 2 ornate swords, various daggers and a stuffed backpack looks over the other agents assembled for the mission.
"Greetings to you all. I am Devonalia, a former Kyonin scout. I was told to meet here for an important mission. I cast no spells nor do I prefer to take foes head on but I prefer to attack enemies from behind."
"I know not much of these lands so I did some research before coming. I found out some merchants are refusing to travel into the Footprints of Rovagug. The two most recent caravans to return from there were both attacked by bandits. A Sothan priest of Irori named Narmek Tar Kuata founded the monastery more than 3,000 years ago. It is among the oldest continuously used schools in Osirion. Most people in Tar Kuata are humans of Garundi ancestry, but the monastery also houses the Ouat monks, an order of dwarves that shave their heads and beards and eschew dwarven traditions in favor of discovering their own path to perfection. Not all citizens of Tar Kuata are monks; pilgrims who fail admission to the monastery often settle in the village that grew up around it and take up everyday occupations. However dwarves who shave their beards off... I may well see something I thought I would never see..." she tells the others.
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Another female enters and introduces herself when it is time to do so, ”Geetings, I am Keynala Smith, though I much prefer to be called Nala. I have not been on a mission in a little while, but look forward to earning a good paycheck for my village, as well as solving this little problem for the society.”
She glances at the elf, ”Is it unusual for dwarves to shave? I have not met many.”
Nala is not exceptional looking in any particular way, unless simply being a half elf counts. She does seem to favor very sleek clothing and light armor. Her obvious weapons are a trident and morningstar. Her shield also appears to be crafted for striking. She has a small silver necklace with a seagull hanging from it.
She asks the VC, ”You said desert, so protection from the elements and a water source will be necessary, right? How many days of travel through the desert will it likely take to get there?”
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The door opens with a low creak, and in steps a broad-shouldered man clad in Osirian warrior garb—sand-colored linen, bronze accents, and the unmistakable bearing of one raised among stone and sun. His skin is dark and weather-worn, his head shaved clean. A long guisarme rests in his grip, the butt tapping once against the floor with a heavy *thunk* as he surveys the room.
"Sobek al Saleef. Tomb guardian of the old dynasties, now Pathfinder. I build the resting places of the honored dead, and I guard them still—even in death, they deserve peace."
*Another tap of the guisarme for emphasis.*
"If your goal is knowledge, I will shield you. If your aim is looting, beware—I do not suffer thieves, living or otherwise."
He gives a respectful nod, then steps aside with disciplined grace, his eyes scanning the room like a sentry at a crypt gate.
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A diminutive gnome comes riding in on a sturdy cream colored wolfhound.
His bright almost gaudy attire and his vivid red beard and sparkling blue eyes stand out. He is without a doubt very confident in his abilities.
"Yes,very interesting. Too bad we don't have that know it all bard with us. He might be occasionally annoying but he does know his stuff."
Shaggy looks around the group to see if he find a familiar face or two.
"Keynala, I've arranged for pack animals and appropriate supplies for the journey there and back."
"The Ouat monks are, strictly speaking, a separate order from the Iroran monks in Tar Kuata, but they work together so closely the difference is academic."
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A white haired young woman, with a kind, warm smile, walks into the room. She wears no armor, just a longspear and a crossbow by her side.
Hello fellows Paffies!I'm Desynthia Mezden. Not much of a fighter here, I'm a sorceress, and usually I cast my spells to summon creatures to fight for me, but I do know some other tricks.
she puts her longspear against the wall and continues
I've heard about a local priest of Sarenae who did a wonderful sermon a few weeks ago, speaking passionately against an illegal cult of Rovagug in the vicinity. How a cult of Rovagug can be considered "legal" escapes my understanding. This god aims at the complete destruction of everything we know, after all.
As the sorceress speaks with fiery passion, her hair take a reddish hue
After a tiring, days-long journey, the party reaches the monastery mid-morning. At the base of a high mountain valley, the monastery perches atop a rocky outcropping that overlooks a tiny village and terraced fields. The steep cliffs to either side shelter the small structures from the wind, and a tall, thin spire towers over the settlement. The main entrance is obvious. As the party approaches, the doors open and a shaven-headed dwarf woman in ornate but unrestrictive robes emerges, smiling warmly. "Welcome to Tar Kuata, Pathfinders. Please come in and refresh yourselves--I hope the journey was peaceful." Her tone implies that this isn't something she takes for granted.
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We have several bushels of grain for you in exchange for your piece of the Sky Key." Sobek holds up the small bag of holding.
"Greetings. Yes, it was a peaceful journey.
"Greetings. We are in search of a piece of the Sky Key we heard may be here at Tar-Kuata. Do you have any information that could help us?"
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Devonalia looks around the monastery and its holdings. "Quite the lovely and secluded spot. It seems very peaceful here." she says to the female dwarf with no hair which she tries to avoid looking at. "My name is Devonalia, I am a pathfinder agent and these are my friends Nala, Sobek, Desynthia, Sylvester and Radagast. We were told you were expecting us, correct? It is a pleasure to meet you."
"Forgive my lapse in manners--I am called Menkha Helg, and it is my honor and duty to serve the Ouat monks as their leader. However, any talk of items must wait on the abbot of Tar Kuata, the monk Itephta, and he is currently busy."
The woman seems pleased by Desynthia's approach. "Come--while we await Abbot Itephta I can show you the village, and then to the refectory for lunch."
Over the course of the tour, Menkha says a bit about the history of the Ouat monks--"One of the first dwarves to join the order was a woman named Logyra, and it's said she donated a strange metallic device to the monastery's treasury."
The lunch seems to go well; over the course of it, you're joined by a few other Ouat monks. Menkha thaws a bit and reveals a subtle and sly sense of humor below the disciplined shell. You've just finished when a young Garundi man enters the refectory. "Honored Pathfinders! I am Itephta, and I am told you have matters you would like to discuss."
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Sobek rises to his feet with quiet strength, gripping his guisarme like a staff of office.
"Greetings, your Reverence. We seek a fragment of the Sky Key—rumors place one here, at Tar-Kuata. We believe the metallic object once donated by Logyra may be the piece we’re after."
He holds up the small bag of holding.
"In return, we offer several dozen bushels of grain in trade. May it nourish your people as this knowledge may nourish ours."
Itephta looks over at Menkha. "And do you have this item?"
The dwarf nods. "We have an ancient relic that sounds like what they are looking for. If you think it wise, I will relinquish it to the Pathfinders."
The Garundi ponders, looking over the party before returning his gaze to Menkha. "What do you think of these Pathfinders?"
Menkha replies, "I have been impressed with their sincerity and skill."
Itephta considers further before turning back to the party. “You seek something we would give freely, but the relic is one heavy with the weight of history. Just as I would not ask a neophyte to lift a boulder before he can lift a stone, I cannot in good conscience burden you with this bauble without knowing your capabilities.
“When our students request greater responsibilities or greater challenges, we first ensure that they have mastered what they have learned before. I propose you experience the same courtesy I would extend to a student by undergoing a small portion of our training. It shall strengthen your body for the return journey and prepare your mind to weather your future trials. There shall be six tests for you. To guide your preparations, I have one of my monks. Aeotsep?”
A much older Garundi man approaches the group. He smiles warmly, his lined and sun-weathered face falling into that expression in a way that suggests it's an expression he wears often. "It would be my honor, Master. If you are ready, Pathfinders, come this way." He leads the six (seven, if you count the dog) of you to a study room in the monastery proper. It contains several bookshelves, a small table, and a lectern on which is an open copy of Unbinding the Fetters, the principal holy text of the Iroran faith. "Please wait here while I prepare." He steps out and closes the door behind him, but does not immediately return.
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"Six challenges?" Sobek repeats, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I accept." His tone is steady, but a glint in his eyes betrays the thrill he tries to hide.
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Sobek approaches the open book and skims through it, hopefully finding information about the Six Challenges.
"Would any of you like to join me in perusing this tome?" he asks his teammates.
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Devonalia is interested in viewing the Tome and joins Sobek. She thinks nothing is amiss in the 6 challenge request. "I wonder what these tests shall include? Hopefully nothing too difficult or dangerous."
"Given the nature of these Ouat monks—and the tome they've left behind—I suspect the trials ahead will test our minds more than our strength."
He lightly taps the butt of his guisarme once against the stone floor, eyes narrowing at the ancient book.
"I believe this tome could hold the first of our challenges. Let’s see what we can find within its pages."
The book is open to a lengthy allegory that seems to compare the creation of the world to stages of self-perfection, but the nuances and references to other works are hard to follow.
After about half an hour, Aeotsep returns. "Before we move on to the next trial, did any of you happen to read the book here?"
In the ensuing discussion, Desynthia shows that she not only read it but understood it. The monk smiles even more broadly at the response. "Very well done! Now, this way."
He leads you into a larger training area which currently contains several broad reed mats, racks holding wooden weapons, and a pile of small wooden boards. "This is the Hall of the Inward Gaze. Now, brute force is often taken as identical to physical might, but this is a mistake. Strength without control accomplishes little that can be considered constructive. With proper control, though, much can be accomplished. Allow me to demonstrate." He picks up one of the boards and holds it in one hand an arm's length in front of his face. He releases the board and with a swift movement of his other hand breaks the board in half in mid-air. Once the clatter of the falling pieces dies away, he adds, "You see? I am not that strong of arm, but with precise control I can use what strength I have to great advantage. Now you try it."
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Nala intently watches the display, looking to see exactly what he does. She practices a few times with shadow motions, then steps forward.
”I am always up for learning a new skill. I’ll try first, and hopefully my effort, successful or not, will help my allies.”
She flips the board, but then can’t get into position to strike it.
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The gnome flashes Aeotsep an impressive smile.
"Anyone can break boards but can you put them back together again?"
Sylvester casts the Mending spell and he starts to repair the broken boards. He then attempts to fool the monk into believing that he was able to break a repaired board into two pieces.
"I knew I could do it."
20 Bluff on a take 10.