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1) I am based in Southeast Asia (UTC +8) so my posting hours may be unusual (especially for those in North America). I usually update at least one or twice per day. Just to keep the game moving, please post at least once every day and at least once during the weekend.
2) Please keep all posts and communication in all channels limited to a PG-13 level and be both positive and inclusive.
3) Please label all three of your actions. Even if you think what you are doing is obvious.
4) If I am unavailable for longer than 24 hours, I will let you know in the Discussion Tab. Out of respect for your fellow players and myself, I ask that you do the same. Real life happens, and real life will always take priority over the game, but out of fairness for your fellow players, please let us know if you will be unavailable for an extended period of time.
5) Please note that on the following days, my posting can get unpredictable:
Tuesday/Thursdays - all day, as they are the 2 busiest days of my work week
6) Please complete the Macros and the Slides linked at the top of the page.
7) Questions, concerns? Feel free to share them in the Discussion tab.
8) Let's have some fun and tell a great story together! After all, that's what we are here for.
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Coral takes a deep breath as she ascends the tallest hill in the Shipyard District, her hooves clopping rhythmically against the hot paving stones. Augustana swelters in the summer heat, and it's not even noon yet. She swishes her tail, trying to fan herself.
All around her are the sounds of the largest shipyard in the Inner Sea: hammers, saws, work chants, rolling carts of lumber and the excited shouts of builders. She sniffs, taking in the scents of oil, sawdust, sweat and, in the distance, the spray of the sea air.
As she reaches the top of the hill, she smiles. What a view! Tall ships fill the wharves, their masts rising from sea level like a forest of trees. She would love to inspect those vessels from stem to stern. It would be wonderful to have a ship's deck under her hooves again.
★ --- ★ --- ★ --- ★
Across the way is the restaurant where she's supposed to meet for her briefing. The sign features a shark rising triumphantly out of the sea foam with a crab in its mouth. Smells of frying crab waft towards her as she gets closer. Her stomach rumbles.
"If they're going to make us meet in a restaurant that smells that good, Venture-Captain Brackett better be paying."
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A small furry white bundle of energy bounces off one of the arriving ships.
It looks like someone took a squirrel’s body and added rabbit ears to it. It is about the size of a house cat with white fur and black eyes. One of its front teeth is chipped. It is wearing padded armor, has a knife at the belt, a tiny wayfinder hung on a chain around its neck, and a backpack.
The creature looks around the shipyard and then bounds up to a local to ask for directions. With a chipper “Thank you!” when they get an answer, they go bounding up the street in the direction the dockworker had pointed.
It skids to a stop when it sees the centaur. Skittering up a post next to it, it says “Hi! I’m Chipped Tooth but everyone just calls me Chip! I’m looking for a restaurant that is supposed to be around here. Can you help me?”
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As the tiny thing bounds and hops across the street, Captain Kortos has to resist the urge that all horses have of scurrying back to avoid stepping on it. Nothing will happen to the teeny creature if you just stay still, she thinks.
When the creature pauses to speak, she blinks, suddenly noticing the odd mix of squirrel and rabbit body parts, the padded armor, and the tiniest wayfinder Cora's ever seen. Bending her forelegs, she kneels down to both get a closer look at the tiny creature and to set it at ease by being closer to its level.
It's easily one of the most adorable little things she's ever seen.
"Um, you must be a little too low to see the sign. Would you like to sit on my back for a higher view? The Brine Shark Bistro is just kitty corner from where we are right now, see? It must have a commanding view of the entire Great Salt Harbor from inside. You're one of my fellow Pathfinders, right? I've only been on one mission, so they haven't given me my wayfinder yet. I did get a really pretty engraved lid for one, though."
Then Coral remembers her best naval manners. "It'll be a pleasure serving alongside you, Chip. I'm Captain Kortos, late of Absalom's navy and now a Pathfinder myself."
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The head swivels to look in the indicated direction. “Oh! There it is!”
Puffing up its chest, Chip says “Yes, they have sent me to a few new places. This is my first time in Andoran though. Did you know that they the call the basket that the lookouts use near the top of the mast a Crow’s Nest? I didn’t see any crows up there when I went to look though, just a crappy sailor that complained that I interrupted their nap.”
You aren’t sure where the creature got it, but it now has a walnut in its tiny paws and asks “Want a nut?”
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My time on this world has not yet inured me to its heaviness. Or its sun, Thandar's Third Theorem moans to themself as they glide above the rooftops of Augustana in the oppressive heat and humidity. Looking forward to the cool interior of the assigned meeting house, they scan the ground below for the briefed signage.
Even so, they take a moment to look out at the harbor, the ships, and especially the horizon. So much water. So unlike anywhere at all on Akiton, they marvel yet again until their reverie is shattered by a scream from below and someone throwing a stone ineffectually in their direction. With a mental sigh at once again being thought of as a monster, they rise a bit higher into the air and cast a short spell to speed their journey.
It's not long after that they find the right spot. A restaurant specializing in seafood demarcated by a sign bearing a shark and a crustacean. (Do they serve both? Only the crustaceans? Neither due to taboo?) with two beings standing in front.
"Hello, you are Pathfinders I presume?" they say aloud so as not to startle the pair with a telepathic greeting as they smoothly descend to the street. Hovering just above the cobblestones, their feet though clad in lightweight soft boots don't quite touch the surface. The atrophied body hanging below the giant brain is clad in simple traveler's clothes. They bear no weapon or gear except a small pack upon their back and a wayfinder dangling from a thin belt at their waist.
"I am Thandar's Third Theorem, but please call me Third for simplicity."
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Cora's stomach rumbles at the mention of the nut. "Yes, a nut would be lovely. Thank you." Just as she grabs it, she turns at the new voice that comes behind her. "Yes, we're Pathfinder's and I'm..."
Someone is shrieking, and to Cora's infinite embarrassment, it is her. On the other hand... There is a large, floating brain in front of her, with an atrophied body dangling beneath.
Who is talking.
In a reasonable voice.
With a wayfinder dangling from their waist.
It takes less than half a minute for Cora to realize that she's been staring like a half-witted foal who's never left the Kortos mountains.
Cora coughs, surprisingly convincingly, and makes herself smile at Third. "Sorry, got something caught in my throat. I meant to say that I was, er... gah-lad to meet you, Third. I'm Captain Kortos. Have you been a Pathfinder long?"
Cora wipes sweat from her brow. Maybe I'll be lucky and the earth will just swallow me up right now.
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Chip looks over to see what caused such a reaction from Captain Kortos.
Haven’t seen anything like that before. Wonder what it is?
Being careful of the skitterish centaur and her hooves, Chip scampers down the post and up the side of a building near the thing. It is about this time that the centaur goes into a coughing fit. Chip looks at her to make sure she isn’t choking, then looks back at the new arrival.
“I’m Chipped Tooth, but you can call me Chip. What are you?”
Then remembering his manners, he holds out an almond and says “Want a nut?”
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Another day, another shriek. Though this one sounds different; as if something is stuck in the centaur's throat. Well, it is an unusually long and large throat, so perhaps the proffered nut just went down wrong. Yes, that all seems reasonable.
"My apologies for startling you and causing you to choke. I often forget that I make nearly no noise when approaching and most sentients of this world lack the ability to sense other minds in their vicinity. I will endeavor to be more mindful," Third says with a slight bobbling dip that might equate to a bow.
"No thank you," they answer Chip's offer of a nut. I would hate to choke on it also as the Captain did.
"I am a contemplative from the planet Akiton which most of this world knows as the Red Star. And you, Chip, you are a risuchō, yes?" Third switches to the Tien language.
A slight breeze rustles the leaves at the top of a stately elm along the street but fails to reach the ground level. It serves to remind Third of the stifling heat. "But perhaps we could move inside, out of the sun?" they ask the others as they begin floating in that direction.
Third allows the Captain and Chip to lead the way. It's not entirely to avoid the inevitable shock to the tavern's patrons and staff, but also because they just don't move very quickly. Settling in at a table sized for the centaur, Third quickly scans the menu, makes his decision (shark AND crustacean both!), and continues his introduction.
"For a very long time, transit between our two worlds has been cut off. Recently the Keepers in the Halls of Reason voted to reopen the Doorway. I requested access to Golarion to continue my research into the magic underpinning the works of Thandar especially as it relates to their third theorem." They pause to thank the nonplussed waiter for the pitcher of water and proceed to pour each of the three a glass. "I expect that more researchers, adventurers, and explorers from Akiton will arrive in short order, and that many of them will join the Pathfinder Society also."
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Chip nods excitedly as Third addresses it, confirming that it is a risuchō.
“Yes, there was a ritual done that changed me. They asked me to do a couple of simple tasks and then I was free to explore the world.” He smiles brightly at this pronouncement.
Chip follows Captain Kortos into the establishment, quickly climbing a chair and leaping from there to the table where they seat themselves.
They are much less decisive when presented with the menu, saying they will need more time but please take the orders of the others.
Looking towards Third, they ask “Who is Thandar?”
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Cora straightens her naval jacket, and looks at both Thandar and Chip. "I understand tien fine. Learned it while working for the Absalom Navy, now didn't I? But I didn't understand the word you two just used. What's a risuchō?"
And then she turns to Third. "So... I had heard rumors that the Society did some sort of trip through some rosebushes or something and wound up on Akiton. I thought that it was just them hazing the newcomer, and telling a tall tale about the Society's former exploits. Are you telling me that was true? Did the Society actually travel to Akiton, and we're now recruiting Pathfinders from there?"
Cora orders the cheapest food on the menu, the clam chowder with lots of bread, because she has no idea if Venture-Captain Brackett is going to be paying for their meal yet, and just getting equipped as a Pathfinder has taken most of her savings. But she does offer some of the bread to Chip, who doesn't look like he'd need much food.
She glances around. "Speaking of Pathfinders, do you have any idea what Venture-Captain Brackett looks like? I attended a shindig in Absalom that Janira Gavix invited me to, and most of the Grand Lodge staff was there, but not Brackett. He's from Almas or something, right?"
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Chip sticks out a thumb and points to himself. “I’m a risuchō. As Third mentioned, most can’t talk like me.”
When offered, Chip politely takes the huge chunk of bread that Kor holds out for him. Definitely two hands worth of bread for him.
“I haven’t met him yet either, but I figure he will be able to figure out that we are part of the group sent here.” Gesturing around the place, he says “Our group does stand out a bit.”
When someone comes back for his order, he has finally decided to try some of the shrimp. The name says it must be small after all!
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So many ships, coming from so many places he remarks to himself. The wonder he feels over it is real.
Though many folk on the dock are enjoying the sun, and perhaps enduring the heat, Ebren appreciates it somewhat less. It's not like he's some kind of vampire, but he does originate from a place with distinctly less intense light...
Deciding that he's had enough of it for now, he ducks into The Brine Shark Bistro. Just after entering, he blinks several times in an attempt to force his eyes to confirm what he is seeing.
A minotaur (not the most unusual), and... a floating brain?! There is no way these are not his fellow Pathfinders. As he approaches he squints to note a small... rabbit (?) on the minotaur's shoulder.
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A pale, and yet somehow shadowy bearded man approaches. He seems very fidgety and unsure of his own presence in this place.
Hello all. I'm Ebren Windbrook, a fellow Pathfinder. I believe I'm joining you on a mission.
Taking a chair, he shifts a few weapons around on his person for best comfort: a rapier, a shortbow, and a light mace.
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Looking towards Third, they ask “Who is Thandar?”
As they wait with anticipation of the new experience of eating such interesting seafoods, Third begins to answer Chip's query. They start to excitedly explain that Thandar was only the greatest theoretician on the basics of magic. Their Theorems are required study even in primary school, and the Third Theorem has to do with the physical manifestations of magic within the Universe. Or at least they would have explained all this if several things hadn't happened all at once to deprive his audience of the lesson. Namely, Chip's eyes started glazing over, Cora asked what a risuchō was, Ebren stepped up to the table, and (most importantly) the food arrived!
Third considers the repast before them. They elect to start in on the shark before it dries out, and save the crab to eat second expecting the extraction process to be messier but more fun, too.
As they take their time to savor the flavor and texture of the grilled shark filet with lemon-butter sauce, Third fits in a short answer to Cora's question that risuchō are manifested kami (beneficial guardian and functionary spirits) in the Forest of Sprits in Tian Xia.
They set the first of the empty plates aside and draw forward the crab and attendant tiny mallet and fork. They ponder the utensils for a moment before quickly deducing the utility and operation. Like a local, they begin cracking open the crab's legs and extracting the meat. The first bite overwhelms their taste buds, causing them to pause in bliss at the amazing flavors. After a few more slow happy bites, they pause to ask Cora about something she said earlier.
"I had not heard that the Maze of the Open Road has a terminus on Akiton. I recently executed a mission for VC Tornkvist in the Maze, so I should check on this. Easy access to my homeworld via the Maze of the Open Road would indeed simplify the reporting of my findings to my academic colleagues."
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Well met!
Ebren nods and smiles warmly at Chip after his greeting, and begins listening to the ongoing conversation.
"I had not heard that the Maze of the Open Road has a terminus on Akiton. I recently executed a mission for VC Tornkvist in the Maze, so I should check on this. Easy access to my homeworld via the Maze of the Open Road would indeed simplify the reporting of my findings to my academic colleagues."...
If Pathfinders can traverse realities, then I am not surprised that they can reach other worlds in the same reality.
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“Do you like writing that sort of thing, Third? I bet that makes you very popular with some groups that dislike the Report section of our motto!”
They tear off a piece of the bread and put a tomato on it before eating it.
After they finish their little snack, they ask “Do the rest of you get asked to write reports again, only in huge script?”
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Third sets the tiny fork down next to the tiny mallet as they finish the last of the crab, and then carefully arranges them to be perfectly parallel to each other. They consider getting the clam chowder also, not knowing exactly what a "chowder" is and wanting to try it also...
“Do you like writing that sort of thing, Third? I bet that makes you very popular with some groups that dislike the Report section of our motto!”
They tear off a piece of the bread and put a tomato on it before eating it.
After they finish their little snack, they ask “Do the rest of you get asked to write reports again, only in huge script?”
"No, I... wait, Yes to the first question, no to the second. I am friends with another Agent - much more senior than us - who excels in scribing reports. Perhaps you could engage her services?"
Her name is Locus-22, an android linguist and spellcaster, Third projects telepathically to Chip along with the image of a young-looking android girl.
"As to writing reports, it is an expected part of academia and a crucial skill if one is to advance in one's field. I have written hundreds of essays, papers, journals, extracts, treatises, folios, and reports. Pathfinder reporting is significantly less rigorous than Akitonian academia, and thus quite simple and enjoyable in its own way."
Third is momentarily confused by the blank stares and oggling disbelief of their compatriots before the waitress returns and they do indeed order the clam chowder along with a side of something called "tater tots."
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A pale woman with dark hair wearing a breastplate and a furry hat rides up on a moose of all things. She is closely followed by a young brown bear. She approaches the group and dismounts. She greets everyone with an unusual accent, one rarely heard outside of the frozen land of Irrisen. "Ha! A most unusual group. You are either fellow pathfinders or some sort of entertainment for restaurant patrons."
"I am Detective-Inspector Irina Valishnakova of Whitethrone City Watch Special Division currently on sabbatical. I join Pathfinder Society to learn their tricks before I return to Irrisen."
She gives the risuchō a puzzled look. "Hello what have we here? Squirrel? Or maybe rabbit? Chkchkchhhkcchhk chk chk. Or perhaps Prprrprrr snork?"
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"Greetings, all." Towering above everyone else, Coral inclines her head. "I am Captain Coral Kortos, recently of the Absalom Navy. I had some tactical training that I find can be helpful to share with a team before a mission starts."
She grabs various containers for spices - salt, pepper, chili flakes - and jars of various aioli and tartar sauce dips and shows them engaging in battle using the tactics of the Pincer Move, Strike Hard and Naval Training.
"So when the Ketchup over here attacks the hapless french fries, I can call on one of you to Strike Hard!" She lifts up the pepper and whacks at the ketchup jar, then hands the spices over to the others. "Now, you try it!"
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Seeing Captain Kortos demonstrate her tactics, one of the servers rushes over to your table, face stern. "Excuse me, but we have obtained the spices at great cost. They are not to be used in a frivolous fashion. I would request that you cease playing with the spices or we will be forced to add the cost to your bill."
She then stalks off, muttering under her breath about uncivilized beasts...
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Hearing her comment about uncivilized beasts, Chip pipes up “How rude!” Then he realizes that the server might not have meant him.
Getting a mischievous grin, the tiny squirrel grabs some of the left over food and places it on the tablecloth. “So when you” pointing to a cracker “give the signal, all of us should adjust our positions to surround an enemy?” He uses bits of shell to represent the others in the group along with a much smaller seed from something to represent himself moving around an olive.
Looking in the direction the server went, he then stomps on the olive. “Hopefully with this result!” There is now a stain on the tablecloth. He then uses a napkin to carefully wipe the crushed olive off his foot.
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"Captain, I fear my talents and unique physiology will limit or exclude me from taking advantage of or even participating in most of your tactical maneuvers, though I can certainly see how...."
They are suddenly cut off by the rude server mid-sentence. Having learned the lesson on the first go, they rise a bit higher than normal and float across the tavern to where the rude one is grousing with the nice server that had brought them so many new and tasty foods. Without speaking, they telepathically broadcast to both of the servers, and to the chef in the back, and the owner behind the bar, their thanks for the delicious repast.
Certain that the rude one has taken the point that muttering or even thinking mean thoughts will be noticed, they continue aloud. "Our apologies for using your spice containers in such a way; though as you can plainly see, the containers are as yet undamaged," they emphasize to the sound of a tiny stomp.
"Do you perhaps have any game sets we could use instead? An Imperial Conquest set? Or perhaps a set of zoubing tiles?"
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Third's telepathic message is greeted by yells of surprise, followed by a crash of breaking crockery from somewhere in the back; more or less similar to Captain Kortos' earlier response to a sudden voice in one's mind.
A red-faced man storms out, his apron sopping wet with something messy. "Who's playin' mind tricks?! I just had this voice in my head tellin' me how good the food was! I don't mind the compliment, it's rather startling, 'specially if you're holding a pot o' stew! And the price of spices and stuff just went up! And that batch is "
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She grabs various containers for spices - salt, pepper, chili flakes - and jars of various aioli and tartar sauce dips and shows them engaging in battle using the tactics of the Pincer Move, Strike Hard and Naval Training.
Ah, so it's a sautée. When does the fish or meat enter the picture?
Finally, after a moment of eye-rolling and explanation from others, he does get it.
"Now, you try it!"
A little unsure again, Ebren points between himself and the condiment jars as if to ask if she's requesting they try it with the minis or perform a full-body LARP of the tactics. Either way he is agreeable to do so and flanks Chip with her.
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With a mischievous twinkle in her eye Irina taps the side of her nose and nods. "Well I am detective-inspector after all."Greetings inspector. Do you detect anything interesting about me? Just a plain bearded man, right? He tries to hide a cheesy grin.
Irina eyes Ebren suspisiously. "No. Should I?"
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"So, what do we have here? Am I late? Is the mission briefing over? Can someone share me the mission details right away?" a green-tinged kobold arrives, crooked teeth bared as he smiles to the others.
"Schek Nek, by the way." he introduces himself to them as he also check the other Pathfinders one by one.
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The chef gapes at the giant floating brain and decides not to escalate the issue. He turns and stalks back into the kitchen. The server who reprimanded you earlier stalks over. She is about to scold you again when the door opens and Venture-Captain Brackett walks in, accompanied by a ysoki and a tall Mwangi man.
"Venture-Captain Brackett." he says to the now-flustered servers, "I have a reservation for a private room." He sees you at your table and gestures you to follow him. Venture-Captain Brackett leads you to a private room and gestures for you take seats. As you all get settled, he gestures to one of the servers to start the meal he ordered.
As the servers bring out fresh crab and other shellfish, Venture-Captain Brackett makes some introductions.
"I have two people you need to meet. They're responsible for fulfilling the Pathfinder supplies that you equip yourselves with before each mission. First, is our head quartermaster, Kitsch."
He points to an ysoki woman using a full toolkit, including various pliers, saws and picks, to dismember a large crab carcass. Kitsch's overalls are liberally smeared and spattered with both grease and shell bits. She glances up, waves, and then returns her focus to trying to break apart the crab shell without saying a word.
Then Brackett points out a tall mwangi man in an elegant tunic unsuccessfully trying to stay out of spatter range. "And this man is our Head of Procurement, Immaculate-Weaving-Under-Moonlight Nairaba." "Please, that is such a long mouthful," the man says as he passes out napkins and cleaning cloths. "Feel free to call me, Nairaba. Tell me, what are you called?"
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Third begins to stare down the server with their tiny, nearly hidden eyes as the door opens for the trio of Pathfinder leaders. They follow the rest into the private room and settle down gingerly into a chair which seems comically huge compared to the atrophied body.
"Director Kitsch, Director Nairaba," they begin with a slight bobble of the brain that might be a nod. "I am surprised to see you again so soon. Were you able to clear up everything in Kintargo satisfactorily?"
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Irina sits up very straight. "I am Detective-Inspector Irina Valisnakova of the Whitethrone City Watch, Special Division." A piece of crab leg hits her in the face, sticking to her cheek. She removes the piece of offending crustacean and looks at it. She opens her mouth to speak but thinks better of it and remains silent, tossing the food over her shoulder.
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Nairaba's eyes widen at Chip. "I would love one, thank you!" He chews thoughtfully. "This is very fine. I would love to know where you source your material"
Both Kitsch and Nairaba grin broadly at Third. "Yes! I remember you! Yes! We were able to get concessions from Cheliax after you uncovered that official behind the theft of our cipher!" Nairaba almost gushes. He colors slightly, a bit embarrassed at the sudden outburst of praise.
"Oops! Sorry Detective Inspector! That one got away from me." Kitsch blushes as the morsel goes ballistic. "Nice to meet you as well!"
"Such formality!" Nairaba says. "At ease, Captain, we are not the navy. In fact, we don't really have one... yet!"
Nairaba glances at Schek and Ebren. "I apologize, but I didn't catch your names?"
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Kitsch's eyes light up. "Oooh, which woods, Chip? Could you share your source with us? We would, of course, keep the location secret"
Chip thinks a bit. “The Woods. Nothing to keep secret. Like there is The Skies and The Rivers and The Fires ”
Then he says “Same place I get my armor and weapons from! I will show you!” Having said that he leaps up in the air and gets surrounded by wooden planks. The planks come together to create armor, a helm and a shield. The shield looks more like an acorn cap. He lands with his shield at the ready.
Chip then looks at Kitch and says “Understand?”
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Schek accepts the nut from Chipped without a second thought. Whether it is hard or not is left to his crooked teeth.
Soon after, he settles with the others when they are motioned into a private room. His gaze wanders so much that he misses the call for introductions. When his attention is drawn back, he snaps out of his daze.
"Names? Ah, yes! Schek Nek! Pirate of the seas and beyond, at your service!" He bows graciously, flashing a toothy grin.