Late afternoon light pours in through the windows of the meeting room in Galt’s Woodsedge Lodge, and the smell of freshly baked pastries wafts in from the kitchen. Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro sits at the head of a polished mahogany table in front of tall piles of papers. She clears her throat. “I’m glad to see that all of you made it here safely. My name is Eliza Petulengro. And what are the names of the agents who answered my call today?”
|
Nuwa, a half-elf that obviously has cultural origins in Tian Xia, looks at the other Pathfinders in the room with a warm smile.
"Greetings to you all, I am Nuwa! Venture Captain Zaarah Katsu sent me here! I really have to admit ... I am absolutely intrigued by a mission in Galt … my first time here I have to admit Venture Captain Petulengro!!!" she says with genuine interest.
It is obvious that this gracile woman knows her worth. Her traditionally cut dark hair in Tien fashion looks like it has been recently perfumed and she has a flower in her hair.
She is wearing a Lamellar leather armor and also has a backpack next to her.
“I bet you all might have some experience with missions in the Society?“ she asks.
Eliza listens patiently to your introductions, staring with unnerving intensity at each of you as you speak.
|
Mizzie, a dark-skinned half-elf woman, sweeps into the room wearing a long black robe cinched by her adventuring gear. The only weapons she carries are a dagger at her belt and a crossbow at her back, neither of which appear to have seen much use. The robe doesn't quite hide the fact that underneath it, she too is wearing leather armor. Her dark hair falls in waves to just below her shoulders.
"Good day, venture captain Nuwa. Goodness, I love the flower in your hair. Is that a lotus?"
Mizzie, a dark-skinned half-elf woman, sweeps into the room wearing a long black robe cinched by her adventuring gear. The only weapons she carries are a dagger at her belt and a crossbow at her back, neither of which appear to have seen much use. The robe doesn't quite hide the fact that underneath it, she too is wearing leather armor. Her dark hair falls in waves to just below her shoulders.
"Good day, venture captain Nuwa. Goodness, I love the flower in your hair. Is that a lotus?"
Eliza Petrulengo stares at you intently, waiting for your introduction.
|
|
Mizzie, a dark-skinned half-elf woman, sweeps into the room wearing a long black robe cinched by her adventuring gear. The only weapons she carries are a dagger at her belt and a crossbow at her back, neither of which appear to have seen much use. The robe doesn't quite hide the fact that underneath it, she too is wearing leather armor. Her dark hair falls in waves to just below her shoulders.
"Good day, venture captain Nuwa. Goodness, I love the flower in your hair. Is that a lotus?"
Nuwa smiles politely.
“Ah. So kind of you lady Mizzie, but I am humble novice Pathfinder… and not a Venture Captain!“ she says apologetically.
|
Skittish as a fawn, a young elf woman gambols into the meeting, looking rather more like a frazzled student than a field agent, not least because she’s got a firm grip on a battered or, alternatively, long-treasured tome.
“Oh, good! I was worried I was running late,” she chirps, bobbing in something like a curtsey to the Venture-Captain around her armful of book. Enough of the spine is visible to conclude that its title, inscribed in elegant Elven script, must be The Gifts of the Wise. “Tasarë Solaera, at your service.”
“Or Willow, if you like,” she adds politely, just in case the Venture-Captain is less comfortable with Elven than the aiuvarin women the newcomer has registered.
“I’m also very much a novice,” Tasarë comments, her elvish ears clearly having caught some of the conversation before she entered the room. “I’ve been lucky enough to do a bit of exploring in the Cairnlands outside of Absalom, and sail as far as the Mordant Spire as a courier, but I’m on my way home now. Or soon, I hope, after sorting some, er, very loose ends.”
Her glance flickers to the northwest at the mention of home, as if she could see across the Sellen and the last spurs of the Five Kings all the way to Kyonin. She tries to make herself comfortable, but is obviously unsettled by the intensity of Petulengro’s stare, and probably also the awkwardness of visiting Galt from – even in a very roundabout way – a nation that keeps its borders closed to its perpetually anarchic neighbour.
She tucks a loose lock of her long, dark hair behind her ear, her deep green gaze dropping shyly.
|
Names Aurelia... nice to meet you.
The half-elf said, sitting at the table, only marginally late and introducing herself to everyone. She was wearing leather armour like a lot of the people here, and... had the same elven ears as everyone at the table as well... seemed to be a lot of elves going around.
Oh, those smell lovely, by the way...
She said, referring to the smell of pastries filling the room, just a little bit hungry.
|
|
The rugged half-elven woman sat quietly on a chair, looking outside. She clearly hadn't been fully comfortable since coming in. She doesn't do good with the inside. But she meant well, and wanted to help whatever the storied Woodsedge Lodge had going on
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Vrire. Willow, Aurelia, Nuwa and Mizzie is it? Nice meeting you all as well. First time in Galt as well. I'm from Lastwall, in technicality at least. I'm hardly ever in the city"
|
|
Skittish as a fawn, a young elf woman gambols into the meeting, looking rather more like a frazzled student than a field agent, not least because she’s got a firm grip on a battered or, alternatively, long-treasured tome.
“Oh, good! I was worried I was running late,” she chirps, bobbing in something like a curtsey to the Venture-Captain around her armful of book. Enough of the spine is visible to conclude that its title, inscribed in elegant Elven script, must be The Gifts of the Wise. “Tasarë Solaera, at your service.”
“Or Willow, if you like,” she adds politely, just in case the Venture-Captain is less comfortable with Elven than the aiuvarin women the newcomer has registered.
“I’m also very much a novice,” Tasarë comments, her elvish ears clearly having caught some of the conversation before she entered the room. “I’ve been lucky enough to do a bit of exploring in the Cairnlands outside of Absalom, and sail as far as the Mordant Spire as a courier, but I’m on my way home now. Or soon, I hope, after sorting some, er, very loose ends.”
Her glance flickers to the northwest at the mention of home, as if she could see across the Sellen and the last spurs of the Five Kings all the way to Kyonin. She tries to make herself comfortable, but is obviously unsettled by the intensity of Petulengro’s stare, and probably also the awkwardness of visiting Galt from – even in a very roundabout way – a nation that keeps its borders closed to its perpetually anarchic neighbour.
She tucks a loose lock of her long, dark hair behind her ear, her deep green gaze dropping shyly.
"But...a fellow traveler! I'm glad to meet you. I've never been to the Cairnlands or the Mordant Spire. Please, tell me about them! If you'd like, that is. I'm sure it must be exciting to be getting home soon, right?"
|
|
“It is,” Willow nods. “I’m almost ready to copy out my very first cantrips for myself. It’s been … well, life intervened, and I’m still worried it could all still go terribly wrong. So I’ve been putting it off.”
Whatever story there is to what dragged her out of Kyonin before completing her training, she returns the subject to Vrire’s original question with glib alacrity. “I’m sure someone with more of a historical bent than I would find the Cairnlands much more informative, but I thought they were rather grim, myself. All old battlefields, ruins from the fortifications of sieges long past, but still dangerous sometimes. A lot of lessons left unlearned.”
The young woman gives a shudder that indicates, if anything ever did, an apprentice’s regret that she doesn’t yet have fireballs and the like at her command. “But the Spire, now-” she continues, and her eyes light up, “-although I have to stress I was only there for a few days as a messenger girl, really – that was wonderful! There’s so much magic in the air that even a neophyte like me could almost taste it, and the Spiresworn aren’t shy in using it. They’re a bit … eccentric, though. Maybe they’d warm somewhat if I had more spellcraft of my own, and I’d love to go back. It would be easier with an aiudara, of course, and you’d think there would be one, but if there is, everyone is very carefully not talking about it.”
“But what about everyone else? Adventures to boast of or sights to recommend the wide world over?”
|
|
"'Fraid not, didn't have much of a cause to travel before now, though I do have quite the tale to tell about the Tapestry... went inside along a whole host of others to deal with invaders and trouble within it. But hey, I might be a little inexperienced, but I'm a pretty decent shot if I do say so myself.
|
|
Vrire listens intently to Willow's story. While the aiuvarin wasn't the best at handling people, she was genuinely interested, as there was hardly anything she liked more than learning about places, getting to know the wonders of the world.
"So you were meant to be a spellcaster? What happened? If, you don't mind telling. I'm not sure what kind of life you ended up pursuing but with that bow you carry, I was sure you were someone like me! What brought you to the Cairlands? You say you were a courier and that's why you reached the Spire, but why go to a place so grim? Did the Society send you?"
"As far as travels and sights, I know the area around Lake Encarthan the most - Ustalav, Lastwall, Nirmathas, some of Belkzen as well -- I've done trading with the orcs of the Empty Hand Hold a few times. As far as adventures goes, I've gone to the Society's foray into the tapestry that she went into as well -- curious place, that is. I saved a ratfolk named Rhin during that, and he decided to quit and instead travel with me, and see the sight. I sent him to take a look around Galt for the first time while we had this meeting."
Eliza rests her chin in the palm of her hand, listening intently as the Pathfinders share their tales and exploits with each other.
|
|
Despite herself, visions of flying carpets fill Willow’s mind even as her brain registers that Vrire and Aurelia talked about going inside the tapestry and her mouth manages to put together, “Oh, like a queen escaping a beleaguered palace rolled up in an arras!?!”
No, that can’t be right either, as she casts her thoughts back to some of the gossip about the wilder adventures of the Society of late. One might be forgiven for thinking that she’s carefully resisting the impulse to pull out pen and ink, turn her chair to face the two others squarely, and attempt an interrogation about dimensional magic that is bound to go over her head almost instantly.
Restraining her curiosity, she chats a bit more exploring the hinterlands of Absalom, confirming that that was a mission with a team to retrieve an agent who wandered off on his own and got into trouble. In the back-and-forth, she muses about the possibilities of exploring around Lake Encarthan, when the question about her interrupted studies brings her up short.
She can’t have meant anything by it, Willow reassures herself.
“Long story. I was … unwell, and ended up needing a ruinously expensive potion for a remedy. It meant counting my coppers very carefully afterwards, and eventually –” after some unexpected and unwelcome contumely, confrontation, and self-criticism “– it seemed to make as much sense to travel a bit while taking a step back as staying at home.”
"I find archery concentrates the focus wonderfully," she says, deflecting smoothly but firmly. "And there are some schools whose methods actually are quite useful for the sort of magic I want to study. Ways to open up the body's channels, or leys, or - what do they call them in the East? Meridians? But anyway."
She offers Petulengro a tentative smile. "I do beg your pardon, Captain. I can try to resist the gossip until after the briefing, rather than bore you and delay you from your work."
“Oh no, no, no, Tasarë,” Eliza says, waving a hand dismissively. “Please, do go on. I enjoy learning all I can about people—especially those I’m sending on a mission. It gives me more confidence in the ones I’m entrusting with the task.”
|
|
"I wish it was that fanciful! The Ruby Phoenix, before disappearing, left behind this massive tapestry that just so happens to be a demiplane all of its own, and inside, there are full cultures of people! The Society got ahold of it, but it started to fall apart. They sent multiple teams to help inside, I was within their number."
"Ah, but did you retrieve the poor soul in the end?" Vrire smiles, enjoying the recounting of the rescue and of Willow's travels. She feels the shift after she asks about her studies, and notices just how uncomfortable the woman is. She doesn't press her at all, simply nodding at the comment about archery, and the fields of study. "I wouldn't know about such magics -- never been good for them, myself. Mostly just good at shooting it, but I imagine magics like the ones you're talking about would really come in handy." She finishes with a nod, feeling a bit awkward herself as she feels bad about touching a nerve.
|
|
"I find archery concentrates the focus wonderfully," she says, deflecting smoothly but firmly. "And there are some schools whose methods actually are quite useful for the sort of magic I want to study. Ways to open up the body's channels, or leys, or - what do they call them in the East? Meridians? But anyway."...
Nuwa thinks for a moment.
”To be honest, I do not know. I’m not really interested in the healing arts … but I’m glad that you are enjoying the lectures from my continent!“ she says and bows formally.
“As expected. Excellent.”
Moments later, a wiry man wearing a tailored suit strides into the room. A white porcelain mask covers his face, and he wears a thin red ribbon around his neck. In his gloved hands, he carries a tray of sweet and savory pies, which he sets in the center of the table before quietly slipping away. The venture-captain serves herself a generous slice of pie. “Please, help yourselves," she says, gesturing at the array of assorted pastries. "Mind that you don’t get food on the papers. They record the information that your fellow agents have been gathering about the ebb and flow of Galtan society. To perform such work properly is, unfortunately, far less interesting than it sounds. I have a more engaging opportunity in mind for you.
You’ll be traveling about a hundred miles up the Sellen River to the village of Rosehaven. Rosehaven is the home of Armeline, a savvy information gatherer who was once a reliable contact for the Pathfinder Society. Twelve years ago, she was accused of espionage against the revolution in connection with some of her past work with the Society. She sent a cry for help to the Grand Lodge. It was an exceedingly difficult situation, considering only a few months earlier revolutionaries stormed this very lodge and killed my predecessor and her servants. Following that tragedy, the Decemvirate suspended all operations in Galt. It was a sensible decision—after all, the Decemvirate is not in the business of sending agents on suicide missions—but it seemed a death sentence for Armeline. Whether through luck, guile, or both, Armeline survived. I would like to extend a formal apology to her, and hopefully convince her to consider working with the Society in the future. We have before us the perfect opportunity. Rosehaven’s upcoming festival culminates in a ceremony of ritual forgiveness, which may encourage her to move past the Society’s unfortunate necessity so many years ago.
I’ve arranged for a riverboat to pick you up at dawn. You’ll arrive in Rosehaven in the morning of the first day of the festival." Eliza frowns, “Oh, and one more thing. I have a hunch, and I learned to trust my hunches years ago. I doubt this mission will be as simple as it seems. Stay alert.”
|
A muscular half-elf clumsily bumps into the office. "Sorry for being late——last-minute personnel swap." He bows and apologizes. "Bellisola of the Rosenthal family, at your service. You can call me Sola." The large Minkan sword on his back makes it clear that he's the Pathfinder who deals with problems "up close and personal."
"What can you tell us about our contact, or person of interest, Armeline?" he asks the venture-captain.
|
|
Vrire takes a slice of the succulent pie, taking in the rich flavors. She never ate anything this good!
Her face soured as she listened to the mission, though. She wasn't the right woman at all to handle delicate conversations like the one they'd need to have with Armeline. She doesn't dare question the decision though -- the venture captain, or, well, whoever it is that decides where to send her for assignment surely saw something in her skillset that makes her a good candidate for this mission.
"First day? How many days is this festival? What is the festival about? I'm also not very savvy about Galt itself -- what kind of information did she get for the Society back then? Why were the Revolutionaries so strongly against the Society? They strike me as the types that would be on the side of a revolution."
|
|
Aurelia did take a few pastries for herself, sitting back and munching on them while the situation was being explained, careful to use a different hand to handle the documents lest some errant strawberry jam muck up the writing.
"Always trust your gut, I say, but what's it saying? Think she's out for revenge against the society somehow? That she's the danger? Or is your gut saying she's the one in danger? What about it smells off to you?
|
|
For now, Willow holds her peace, since the others have raised most of her questions. She's particularly interested in the Rosehaven festival, like Vrire brought up. It sounds like a fairly sombre affair, if it ends in a ritual of reconciliation, unless there's an official ending and then a feast or informal gatherings among friends and family.
Atmosphere aside, she wonders, inevitably, if the village has a hedge witch or the like that will be helping with the festivities. Which is beside the point, really. More importantly, it sounds like a fairly delicate business, but not necessarily terribly so. Sending a group of fairly conspicuous outsiders across Galt sounds like the Society has more or less recovered its confidence about operating in the area, and should be a sound overture to Armeline.
Willow likes her queen, she thinks, musing about how the state of the wider region might play into things, but she's not particularly patriotic, let alone jingoistic, so she's reasonably sure she'll be able to avoid political discussions and the risk of being introduced to a guillotine.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
What is your hunch?
“I’m afraid that if I had more information than a nagging instinct, I would have already told you.”
Why did you stare at us when we were introducing ourselves?
Petulengro shrugs. “People are not always who they claim to be.”
Was Armeline involved in espionage?
“In Galt, guilt and innocence are too often tried at the court of public opinion. Whether or not her actions truly constituted espionage had little bearing on her purported crimes, much less the intentions behind what she was doing.”
Can you tell us more about Rosehaven?
“It’s a village along the Sellen River, home to several hundred people. Its isolation shields it from the cycle of revolution, for the most part. Its people make their living primarily through farming and fishing.”
Why are your servants dressed that way?
Eliza sighs. “The ribbons represent the guillotine. Each of my servants has lost someone dear to them at the hands of the revolution. Here in my lodge, I can provide them some manner of protection from the outside world. They wear the masks so that their association with their relatives and confidants does not doom them to the same fate.”
What is the revolution?
“Galt has long been home to brilliant artists and philosophers, whose independent spirits produce a hotbed for new ideas. However, the recent history of Galt is a story of blood and turmoil. Ever since House Thrune came to power in Cheliax, Galt has been trapped in a churning cycle of revolution. Quite a few past governments have fallen, and their leaders and supporters have met the guillotine’s blade. Each new government promises to rectify the ills of the last and bring peace and prosperity.” Eliza flashes a knowingly wry smile. “As a citizen of Galt,” she announces with a veneer of patriotism, “I say that our current government will surely succeed at its goals.”
A PC can ascertain that Eliza doesn’t believe the current regime is any better than the last dozen, but she’s watching her words to avoid being considered an enemy of the state.
The Festival?
"It's a small, 3 day autumn fest dedicated to Shelyn. I heard that villagers hollow gourds, carve them with fanciful and even frightful designs, and then place lit candles within to ward off evil."
Do we have a formal letter?
"There is no formal letter. You will need to earn her trust to convince her to forgive the Society."
When you finish asking Petulengro your questions, the venture-captain invites you to enjoy the rest of the evening at Woodsedge Lodge. You have time to purchase any items you would like in Woodsedge before departing. It's a 10 day journey up the Sellen River to Rosehaven.
|
|
"Thank you. You've been helpful. I hope we are able to convince her."
Vrire enjoys the food, and enjoys her time at Woodsedge, striking conversation with those she's traveling with. She gets a bit claustrophobic at times and needs to spend time in the outside. By the next day, she has purchased rations, survival gear (she has her own but redundancies don't hurt) and is up before sunrise.
|
|
Sola looks at Aurelia's musket, Mizzie's light crossbow, Willow's composite longbow, Vrire's longbow, and the serpentine creature with Nuwa that's some soft of 'eidolon' beyond Sola's understanding wielding yet another composite longbow, and can't help but wonders what's in their drinks back in the HQ when they put together a fire squad for Petulengro .
He wishes his twin sister is with him now so he is not alone in the front. Alas, his sister Bellisofia was sent to the distant Tian Xia for another Pathfinder mission some times ago.
As long as the things that need to be cut down can be cut down, I will be fine. He tells himself.
|
|
"I have a hunch, and I learned to trust my hunches years ago. I doubt this mission will be as simple as it seems. Stay alert."
Mizzie smiles without much humor. "I haven't been a Society agent long, but in my experience, missions like this rarely are. We will be careful.
"Though I must admit, I'm glad I was summoned here-- who doesn't love a festival? Will there be food on the riverboat, or do we need rations?"
"I have a hunch, and I learned to trust my hunches years ago. I doubt this mission will be as simple as it seems. Stay alert."Mizzie smiles without much humor. "I haven't been a Society agent long, but in my experience, missions like this rarely are. We will be careful.
"Though I must admit, I'm glad I was summoned here-- who doesn't love a festival? Will there be food on the riverboat, or do we need rations?"
"The riverboat crew are good fishermen. They will take care of your meals during the journey."
The riverboat that meets you at dawn is a large rowboat with a crew of four experienced sailors. It moves slowly but
steadily up the Sellen River, arriving in Rosehaven after 10 days of travel.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Sola looks at Aurelia's musket, Mizzie's light crossbow, Willow's composite longbow, Vrire's longbow, and the serpentine creature with Nuwa that's some soft of 'eidolon' beyond Sola's understanding wielding yet another composite longbow, and can't help but wonders what's in their drinks back in the HQ when they put together a fire squad for Petulengro .
Swapping stories with the new team reminds Willow that while her trip to the Mordant Spire was exciting but involved no serious misadventures, one of her Cairnlands expeditions was a close thing. Before sailing for Rosehaven, she takes some time to explore Woodsedge, and between the Society lodge and the town is able to track down a wand that should help avoid a trip to Elysium before she can start dreaming about being able to find a way to come back. Unfortunately, anything that she could hope to use herself, eventually, is beyond her ability to wheedle or haggle for, but she’s sure that one of the others would be able to use it to keep any one of them from meeting Pharasma beforetime.
She indulges in some yearning for a few of the textbooks and scrolls she sees, but that would be another kind of premature. She makes a few notes for (hopefully) the near future, and channels her eagerness through the last of her exercises for the day.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
During the long trip through the Sellen River, Vrire opens up slowly after multiple failed attempts at making conversations with the sailors and the other Pathfinders -- she's sociable, and well-intentioned, but she puts her foot in her mouth, as shown with Willow during their initial meeting, something she felt very bad about. During the trip everyone got to meet Rhin as well (the ratfolk she mentioned she saved within the tapestry), who is a far more charismatic individual, far more a people person than Vrire is.
During the trip, two particularly noteworthy things happened: First, one of the sailors happened to be from Lastwall! It's been a while since she's last met a countryman, as she's either been traveling in the wilderness or off in Pathfinder business. Though the sailor also hadn't been there in a while, he was more up to date on business there than she was, and she enjoyed talking about home, and she felt nostalgic a bit.
Second, she was feeling a bit restless one day while traveling, and when the boat made a stop, she separated from the group very quickly and went into the wilderness on her own, and hunted a big deer, which she brought to share with everyone, roasting it over a fire.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Aurelia was much more in her element on the boat, she was very comfortable with talking to the sailors and spent most of her time either helping out on the ship where she could... or talking, drinking, and gambling away her cash with either the sailors or the other patrons on board.
In fact, early on with the trip, she gambled and made off like a king in a game of poker, winning hundreds of gold... an amount that was slowly whittled away through the journey, either on booze or losing some in gambling, or on fancy clothes. By the time the boat came to shore, Aurelia was about the same money level as she was before, except now she had a spiffy hat she won off of a sailor.
If any of the other pathfinders sought her out, Aurelia was more loudmouthed and a little foulmouthed away from high society... but more than willing to share a drink and while away the night together. Her favorite way to do so, by miles, was lying on the deck of the ship, looking up at the stars, and sharing a bottle of whiskey together. If asked, she's say it reminded her of home, cause right about now her family would be looking up at the same stars as she was.
|
|
Sola helps out the sailors during the trip, being a trained sailor himself. . Having a Venture-Captain grandfather that found a Pathfinder lodge on a boat played a role in his sailing experience for sure.
It's obvious that he is the quiet type and not very talkative, only acquainted himself with his teammates during meal time. He spends the rest of the time on guard duty, as the Sellen river is not completely safe, even if we're not in the River Kingdom.
|
|
Nuwa moves through the ship with a kind of quiet grace, but she’s never rushing, and never loud.
Her dark hair is always pinned just so, and when the wind catches it, she retreats so that she still looks composed. She feels rather relaxed when people stare at her hands, but the blackened and burned-looking arms are not attractive. Nonetheless, she doesn’t hide them, and only says softly, that “Fire leaves its mark.” if someone asks and goes on.
She listens more than she talks, and when she does speak, it’s calm with a kind of voice that tries to settle arguments before they start. There’s definitely sadness in her eyes, though, like she’s already made peace with things going wrong.
At night she leans on the rail, and she whispers in Tien as if she’s praying.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Mizzie's talents aren't much use during the ten-day river voyage, so she spends most of it keeping her boredom at bay by flirting with one or another of the sailors and asking them about their homes. She has a wide scope of knowledge and can keep up her end of a conversation with just about everyone. While Mizzie has no particularly keen insights on any topic, she has enough memorized facts to at least seem interesting-- and of course is pretty enough that none of the sailors seem to mind.
She discovers quickly that she and Nuwa have a great deal to talk about , particularly on more esoteric topics like the outer planes. She has unusual opinions on the subject of the dead, however, and discusses it without a trace of the sadness or at least somber attitude of most. In fact, she has a tendency to speak of souls less like former beings and more like good friends who live elsewhere.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Past nautical expeditions aside, Willow is clearly rather restive on a small boat propelled by oars: something about the lack of space for an archer to train. Instead, most days she spends most of her time with her battered primer, practicing incantations in a murmur and twisting her fingers in arcane gestures. Sometimes, for a minute … but it doesn’t come as easy as breathing, or sure enough to trust her life to it, as it would have to, so for now the necessary epiphany for things to just make sense continues to elude her. When the boat moors of an evening, she takes to the opportunity to practice lofting arrows in the falling light on the riverbank with alacrity and determination, but also a measure of relief.
She absolutely does not avoid looking at the far bank and pine when it must be Kyonin on the other side. Never has she ever! That’s the idea, at any rate, but it’s so implausible that Aurelia doesn’t even need to make a show of looking stern, and Willow accepts paying her forfeit – a shot of whiskey – with good grace, unconcerned about being called out on her nostalgia. Soon, she promises herself.
About two-thirds of the way to Rosehaven, a chance encounter helps to brighten her considerably; on another night on shore, the boat shares a mooring with a family of elven merchants heading the other direction on their way to Hymbria, eventually. They’re friendly, if a bit wild, by Kyonin standards, but Willow’s pretty sure they weren’t pirates, and they did share a lovely sparrowfish and the recipe for preparing it that way. Even hints of magical possibilities, if one pulls out all the stops, that will remain beyond her for the foreseeable, don’t dampen her mood, and for the last bit of the journey the apprentice’s heart is light.
After ten long days aboard the slow, creaking riverboat, the waters of the Sellen widen, curling past golden fields and clusters of red-gold trees. The morning air is crisp, carrying the mingled scents of tilled earth, damp reeds, and distant woodsmoke.
As the vessel drifts closer to the modest dock ahead, you spot the quiet village of Rosehaven nestled amid rolling farmland. Modest cottages with thatched roofs and ivy-clad walls cluster around a central green, their chimneys puffing thin trails of smoke that vanish into the autumn sky. Children chase each other between baskets of gourds and bundles of hay, laughter echoing faintly over the water.
Banners of soft pastel colors sway from wooden posts, and the rhythmic clatter of tools and carts hints at preparations for some local celebration. A few villagers glance curiously toward the approaching boat — travelers are not an uncommon sight here, but the weight of their gaze carries the quiet measure of a community that has learned to take nothing for granted.
Your vessel bumps gently against the dock, ropes are thrown, and the scent of baked bread wafts down from the nearby market. Before you lies Rosehaven, peaceful and picturesque — the kind of place that seems untouched by the chaos of Galt’s endless revolutions.
"You we're a pleasant group to travel with." one of the sailors says as you disembark. "Never did charter so many elven folk before. Enjoy your stay in Rosehaven." he says with a friendly smile.
“Enjoy your new hat, Aurelia,” another sailor says with a forced grin, tugging a strip of cloth over his now-bare head.
With your arrival in Rosehaven, now would be a good time to seek out lodging, at least for tonight, and before the festival starts. The sailors mention that the Silver Flute Inn is the best place to secure lodging.
As the boat rocks gently against the dock and the others debate what to do next, you glance toward the small village of Rosehaven. The village looks peaceful enough — quaint cottages, cheerful banners, the smell of bread baking — but beneath that calm, something feels just a little too tidy. Too practiced.
Your instincts itch. You’ve spent enough time on the road to know that danger doesn’t always announce itself with fangs and claws. Sometimes it hides behind friendly smiles and fresh paint. The others are still talking, weighing options, planning — always planning. You stifle a sigh. There’s a whole town out there, and standing around won’t tell you a thing about it.
You could slip away for a bit, get the lay of the land before anyone notices you’re gone. A quick circuit — the square, the houses, maybe that temple nearby — just to see who’s watching and who isn’t. If anyone asks, you’ll say you were scouting ahead.
After all, what’s the harm in trusting your gut? Rules and plans are for people who need permission. You’ve survived this long by doing what feels right — and right now, that means moving before the rest even finish talking.
|
|
Noting the piles of gourds and remembering what the Venture-Captain said about the festival, while considering the name of the village, Willow decides, “Well, if the docks are the haven, I’m going to find the roses. With respect to pumpkins and squashes, there must be other things in the gardens here, even this late in the year.”
She gazes inland towards the densest part of the settlement, and considers the advisability of a slightly more discreet entrance than marching straight through town to find a garden while bristling with various weapon-staves slung over her shoulders. She continues, “But I don’t mind heading to the inn first to find rooms for us. The festival lasts a few days, right? We’ll have time, but I’m not sure how many visitors might be jostling for a place to stay. I’ll meet you all there later if our paths don’t cross again before that.”
|
|
Mizzie inhales. "I don't know about the rest of you, but after ten days on the water I would very much like some of that bread being prepared. We can spend some time getting acquainted with the town and sample the festival food at the same time."
Mizzie will spend some time asking around about the festival specifically, what it celebrates and why there's a ritual of forgiveness at the end.