While their efforts and services to the spiritually apathetic citizens of Bloodcove wear them thin, the short periods of time set aside for prayer have at least kept the flame of faith alive (or, at the very least, have kept the temple grounds from being bought out from under the priests by one of the many competing trading companies) yet little progress has been made towards civilizing this brutal and heathen land.
Worse, Dorowen has thus far managed to block any of your attempts to journey up river into the heart of the jungle, where your efforts appear to be needed most. During your few brief and infrequent audiences he has cited a variety of reasons and excuses--differences with the Aspis Consortium that controls most of the river trade, native unrest, ceremonial demands at the temple, various security concerns, and any number or manner of even more trifling obligations--he has managed to prevent you from leaving the city's roots for weeks.
You had, in fact, begun to wonder how this priest has avoided Iomedae's displeasure, almost expecting to see the few alms garnered by the church tarnish and grow inordinately heavy on their plates and in the coffers. This is why, when he summons you for only the second time since your arrival in Bloodcove you respond with all due haste. Perhaps inaction has finally given way to vision.
Once the public formalities have been seen to he bids you follow him into his private audience chamber. He sits in a high backed chair as you kneel before him. His gaze moves in turns from his immacualte copy of The Acts that rests open on an ornately sculpted reading stand to the brightly honed long sword displayed prominently on his wall. His eyes widen momentarily, their focus snapping to a sudden clarity before turning on you with a contemplative weariness. He coughs and bids you rise with a manner that is both solicitous and slightly embarrassed as he explains the situation...
"We both know full well the... depravations... the... corruptions that can befall mortal forms after," he swallows and seems to consider his words, "Death. And how they are despised in the eyes of our Lady Inheritor." He smiles obsequiously, almost apologetically, "This is why, of course, we would never expect to encounter such corruption here, so close to her home and heart." He gestures vaguely to the sword on the wall. "Any reports of such cannot be given great credence, and yet... when these reports are confirmed by one of our own, brother Vanten who has returned to us in dire condition, we must investigate...
"No, not investigate." Dorowen's voice and demeanor takes on a sudden conviction that surprises you. "We must root out the truth and expunge any rot that lies beneath our purview." At this he rises himself and moves to rest a hand upon the holy book that has become the center of your faith.
"Did you know that when I first came to serve in Bloodcove the servants of Walkena had constructed small shrines throughout the city? We were besieged nearly every night. Never in force, but nearly enough to keep us from our sleep once prayers were done. After two weeks of this Mairvhen--who was Sword Knight at the time, the Lady protect her soul--led us in a sweep of the city. We went two days without sleep and lost half our number. Mairvhen herself was mortally wounded, but held on through the final confrontation. In the end we tore down their shrines and their head shaman fled the city. The cult has never again dared return in significant numbers.
"Yet we cannot afford such a confrontation in these times. We lack the manpower, and we lack the..." Dorowen sighs heavily, "It would take a bigger fool than I not to see that we lack the leadership, and you are not such a fool. We must put an end to this scratch before it becomes a gaping wound."
Dorowen fixes you with a hard look and makes a sign of blessing in front you, "I charge you to employ all methods and means at your disposal to discover and destroy this new source of undead in our city. Once you have brought the light of Iomedae to this problem and burned out the darkness, I grant you freedom of the city and jungle to serve our Mistress as you see fit."
With that pronouncement the strength seems to seep out of Dorowen's frame. He dismisses you with a gesture as he settles into his chair, retreating once again into his customary air of distraction, drawn further away every moment as he silently contemplates the sword hanging on the wall, a sword once wielded by Mairvhen as she led her circle through the city during her final battle to cleanse the defilement that had come to infest its shores.
The rest was simple: a brief interview with the bed ridden elf Vanten let you know that not far North and East of the Land Gate he had run afoul of wandering skeletons while gathering herbs for poultices. His guide, a friendly local ranger named Tchi'ana who had a decent though not gifted hand with the quarterstaff, had helped him fend the monsters off at the cost of his own life. It was all Vanten could do to return to the Gate alive and he hadn't been able to search out the area. However, it was exceedingly rare that undead should be wandering so close to the city for no reason. Vanten sketches out a small map of the general area and wishes you good luck before the cleric tending him insists that you allow him to get some rest.
Its all you need, however. The turning of the next hour finds you mounted atop Earlina and headed for the Land Gate, ready to seek your destiny.
Perhaps things would have been different if during your inaugural performance Harroc, the head chronicler at the local chapter of Pathfinder society, hadn't referred to your bardsong as "a bloody awful Orcish honk" and gone on to regale the gathered crowd with stories of his early career (which seemed to amount mostly to violent acts of near-genocidal intensity against hordes of barbaric orcish tribes). Since then it has been nearly impossible to gain entry into the library there, barring a few occasions when Keirdre--a sympathetic half-elf--has managed to sneak you past the other pathfinders so that you may conduct research into various poetic forms and tales.
And so you find yourself between a rock and a hard place--or, rather, an ocean and a green place. You can't seem to make enough money at any given time to pay for passage out of Bloodcove, and it is far too dangerous to simply walk away into the jungle on your own. Thus you wait, slog through the mundane irritations of each day (as mundane as life on the edge of civilization can be, at any rate) and wait for any opportunity for advancement to show itself.
Needless to say when that gnome started hanging around the Keelhaul, drinking himself silly and muttering angrily about the demonic qualities of sea travel, you expected to watch yet another newcomer sink into the depths of desperation and despair. Seeing an opportunity to ply your craft (and, perhaps, a steady source of income since his purse never seemed to go dry) you tailored your infrequent performances to him, and it wasn't long before he took notice and opened up with his story...
Reljik is an engineer for the Aspis Consortium who had made his mark in Cheliax and accepted a promotion as Chief of Operations at Nightfall station. He had never before traveled by sea, however, and discovered it to be anathema to his constitution. Not only that, the harrowing voyage had left him utterly incapable of stepping foot on a boat of any size. It was therefore impossible for him to take up his new position, since the Consortium by force traveled upriver by boat, and equally impossible for him to return to Cheliax. He had thus been forced into the unhappy compromise of working as an assistant to Bloodcove's local manager, who had little interest in surrendering his own post to work up river himself.
His story inspired you to recount the tale of Nightfall Station, when a group of local rangers was paid to actually survey, built and maintain a road for almost 2 years in order to complete construction. The road quickly fell into disuse and disrepair once the station was completed and little trace remains of it. Reljik was fascinated, and the very next evening he returned with excitement written all over his face: he had discovered a tome in the Pathfinder Society's library containing information and cataloging the original route of the road, which had to be carefully built around and through various swamps and inhospitable terrain. If he could gather enough information he would present a proposal to reopen the route to light travel, reaching Nightfall via land!
The very idea seemed ridiculous: the Consortium had originally expended vast resources and manpower to construct the roads, only to let them fall into disrepair when the river route proved more reliable. It was highly unlikely that they would be willing to do all that work over again. Reljik was obsessed, however, and vowed he would never put his foot on a boat again.
It seemed a harmless enough pipe dream, until a few days ago Reljik came in with a copy of a map he had sketched from the records and declared he would lead a group to the trail head by weeks end. The next night he didn't come in for his customary drink, and the following morning agents of the Aspis Consortium came looking for him. They announced a reward for anyone who returned the gnome to their compound, but they didn't seem overeager and you overheard the agents laughing about an argument that Reljik had apparently had with the operations manager the day before.
The whole chain of events was nothing new, and disappearances happen all the time in Bloodcove, this was nothing unusual except... something about the little gnome and his genuine desire to move on from this damnable city captured your imagination and you find your mind drifting back to the idea of him, alone, struggling through the undergrowth along the river. You keep telling yourself that its the idiotic stuff of legend, that real life is not a story... and, yet, you know that stories have power over life.
One sleepless, waking dream of a night was all it took to convince you that someone would have to find out what happened to Reljik. Someone had to tell his story.
Someone in this infested pustule of a city had to start caring, and start making other people care, and who better than a simple half-orc bard?
The next morning finds you at the Pathfinder Society. Keirdre helps you find the tomes that Reljik had been researching, and all the notes that he had gathered in his private cubicle. With this material in hand you are able to reproduce the map he originally showed you within a few short hours. You sped the rest of your day gathering supplies and the next morning finds you at the Land Gate, ready to test your own fortunes against the wild unknown and discover whatever became of your erstwhile companion.
Since then you have been meditating on what would be the best next step. Brynden insists that most of the jungle is just "more of the same, only with fewer women," a resource reduction that is not of particularly great concern to you but without his help there's no way you will be able to face the true test that originally drew you here so eagerly.
You convinced Brynden to lead you out into the forest again for exercises. He seemed all too eager to be out of town again, his comfort and love for the difficult terrain evident as he cast worried glances back at the city. And so you find yourself practicing your forms, trying to block out Brynden's incessant noise when a sudden movement catches your eye...
And so you find yourself sitting on the sidelines yet again. Unable to return to Bloodcave until Fendon's Fair Weather sails for Korvosa due to a misunderstanding between you, the quartermaster, and his dice you agreed to lead Loras out another one of his afternoon expeditions. While he practices his forms, you work on making the loudest noises you can by blowing through a blade of grass held between your thumbs when a suddenly...
The first Skeleton takes a barehanded swipe at Brynden and misses. Brynden recoils in surprise, jumping to his feet which allows the second skeleton to catch him from behind with a looping swipe of its short sword (3 hp damage)
The other skeletons quickly crosses the clearing and attacks Loras with a primitive club, catching him on the elbow with a stinging blow (1 hp damage)