Generic Thread Opening Post
With a flash of light and a stomach-churning shift, the cool, saline air of Absalom collapses into the stifling, wet heat of the Garundi coast. Within moments, sweat begins to ooze from your pores as the fetid stink of the local climate envelopes you like a damp blanket.
The scroll in Aram Zey’s hands crumbles into dust, its magic spent. The Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells removes his hat and begins fanning himself. All right Pathfinders, welcome to the blistering hole that is the Mwangi Expanse. Any of you who bother to keep up with your Chronicles know that the Society has an archaelogical expedition working in the Terwa Uplands about 80 miles northwest of our position. Of course, I doubt if more than half of you read anything but dirty poetry, so allow me to sum up: the Azlant Ridge site shouldn’t be there. There are no known Azlanti sights in the Mwangi Expanse, but here we are. It may be the best-preserved evidence that the Azlanti at least visited the Mwangi Expanse. A servant of Angazhan called Ruthazek the Silverback King claims the site, too. His troops have laid siege to it and our people are starving, dying from disease, and running low on ammunition and personnel, which is where you come in.
Zey points north through the treeline, to where a ragtag city of boardwalks and wooden buildings straddles a swampy, red river delta. Your first stop is Bloodcove. He chokes out the word as if it insulted his mother. The Azlant Ridge site needs supplies, and Bloodcove is the nearest trade port. They need 2 tons of food and clean water, five crates of arrows and crossbow bolts, and clean dressings for wounds. House Cartahegn is your best choice as the Society works with them occasionally. We already arranged payment to a caravan leader named Raimondo Scevola several weeks ago. Make contact with him to carry everything north. Also, look for a man named Senzer somewhere in town. He was an alchemist funneling potions and information to our team in the Uplands, but he went silent a month ago. You need to find out why and get that stream of potions flowing again.
Don’t think this will be a simple trip to the market. Bloodcove is a pit founded by pirates and run by criminals—scum with no sense of achievement or appreciation for arcane advancement. Even worse, it’s a stronghold of the Aspis Consortium, which loves nothing more than perverting and profiting from Pathfinder discoveries like Azlant Ridge. Keep your heads down and do nothing to attract suspicion; perhaps adopt a disguise. Normally I don’t give a damn if you heroic types kick in doors, make asses of yourselves, and die, but more than your lives rests on your shoulders now. If you fail and the Azlant Ridge site receives no backup, it will surely fall.
Aram hands over a coin pouch. “As I said, we arranged payment for your caravan some time ago. This should cover the cost of supplies. If you dip into your own resources and manage to survive, the Society will attempt to reimburse you. Once you deal with that business, head northwest. He presents a sealed scrollcase and an ornate, golden key on a leather thong. Guard these with your lives. The key’s exact purpose eludes me, but the symbol it bears is repeated on a doorway at Azlant Ridge. The scrollcase contains a map to the dig site. My magics secure the case, though, and it will explode violently if opened within five miles of Bloodcove.
Ask your questions now. I return to Absalom the moment I believe you capable of getting to Bloodcove.
|
Arlieth immediately wonders what possessed her to wear a skin-tight leather catsuit into this clime. With a quick look around to take in her surroundings, she turns to Aram Zey as he speaks.
"Any of you who bother to keep up with your Chronicles know that the Society has an archaelogical expedition working in the Terwa Uplands about 80 miles northwest of our position. Of course, I doubt if more than half of you read anything but dirty poetry--"
The blond-haired elf scowls at Zey. "Hey! I'll have you know that the Book of Joy is far more than 'dirty poetry,' thank-you-very-much!" Tugging at the collar of her catsuit, she fans her face with her other hand. Arileth's features threaten to cloud over, and after a moment she is pouting like she has a personal thundercloud over her head.
|
Seated at the table next to the elf lady and the kitsune is a creature with pale blue skin. In front of her are an assortments of gadgets, clockwork toys and porcelain figurines. She has a few bags at her feet, suggesting that she has done some shopping before this meeting.
After Master Zey leaves, she says, "Ah... the Garundi coast! that explains why I was invited to assist you in this mission! I won't need a disguise as many of my kin live nearby!" Turning her head sideways she points at her gills.
|
The silent tall man who was waiting in a corner, listening, speaks
I do favor honor and sincerity, in acts and words, instead of deception. But with stakes so high, I understand that you must be.. adaptable. So among the lawless pirates we will go, takes our cargo and watch it to safety until Azlant Ridge.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The humid stink of Bloodcove mingles with the reek of sweat and the sickly-sweet odor of tropical plants and exotic tobaccos. The foyer of the guild house looks more like a tavern than a place of business, with tables carved from dark jungle woods and overstuffed cushions. Older men and women mingle or brood over their drinks, while strapping young toughs claim the area around the cold hearth.
Across the room, a swarthy, moustachioed man bellows in anger. He sweeps an arm across the tabletop shared with a red cheeked companion, spilling drinks and playing cards onto the carpet. You bashterd, he drunkenly shrieks, You scheating bashterd, Elanzo! I need thoshe animalsh! I have a client who she paid fer my caravan!
His companion wrings the remains of his drink out of his shirt. No one cares, Scevola. Those were the stakes, and your horses will be chow for my men before we set sail in the morning!
You shlipped shomethin in mah drink! You’re taking my horshesh over mah dead body!
Elanzo simply shrugs at this and snaps his fingers. The large brutes gathered by the hearth stand up and begin moving toward the pair.
|
|
Princess Mindy takes a few steps back behind one of the tables in the east wing, at a safe distance from the whole thing...
Surprised at Elanzo's aggressive and brazen behavior, she calls upon the mystic powers of ancient Hurricane Kings of times gone by. Her ancient brass compass twinkles briefly with magic, despite its cracked sight glass, and with a fresh sea breeze momentarily breaking the dreadful heat, a celestial eagle flies into the entrance, and begins to attack Elanzo's purple-robed crewman!
Meanwhile, Princess Mindy loads her crossbow!
|
|
Elazo moves to put his back to the wall and his crew advance on you. The eagle takes out the purple shirted crewman in one flurry of attacks.
The yellow crewmember draws a scimitar and swings at Kyunjiro
Likewise the green shirted crewmember moves to engage the eagle.
Both swings by the sailors miss their intended targets.
Combat Round 1 - Bold May Act
Elanzo
Crew (Purple, Yellow, Green)
Smith
Kyunjiro
Arileth
Mindy + Eagle
Erhun
|
|
Smith's gun misfires as something inside fails to work properly.
Kyunjiro stabs a rapier into the Yellow shirted sailor's leg, drawing blood.
Arileth's whip wraps around greens foot as it raises a welt on his calf. On the whip's return it trips the sailor.
Erhun redesigns a chair into a pile of firewood. Oi, That'll be 5 silvers you hear from the direction of the bar.
The eagle misses with bot claws but sinks its beak into the green sailor and he falls to the floor unconscious.
Mindy's flames lick at the yellow sailor but they manage to avoid the worst of them. Although they do fall to the floor [ooc[ You aren't sure if they dropped or they are playing dead [/ooc]
Elanzo throws something at Mindy.
The item falls short, but does emit a massive cracking sound.
Combat Round 2 - Bold May Act
Elanzo
Crew (Purple, Yellow (-5), Green)
Smith
Kyunjiro
Arileth
Mindy + Eagle
Erhun
|
|
Irritated, Smith will fiddle with his pistol, clearing the chamber and re-screwing the barrel quickly. As the manager yells out, he quickly replies-"We'll cover the chair and any property damage."
He then pulls out a piece of paper from his vest, that seems to contain a dollop of thick goo covering something solid. He loads it into the chamber, the goo magnetizing the pellet into the chamber.
Ehrun swings at the captain and he drops to the floor, bleeding and unconscious.
Scevola staggers to your group offering profuse thanks in a drunken slur or words. He leaves promising to meet you all in the morning.
You find lodging for the night and the following morning arrive to see Scevola awaiting you. He is clearly suffering from a hang-over but is soldiering on. He leads you forth and after a short time you reach the Trading House.
Surrounding a sprawling, two-story trading post is a mass of citizens and merchants alike. Some wear worried expressions and wring their hands, while others shout angrily at a well dressed young woman by the entrance. As I said, shouts the Cartahegn spokesperson from atop a wooden crate, all Cartahegn resources are needed to deal with this emergency with our sugarpress, and our storefront is closed for the remainder of the day or until management resolves the situation. We apologize for the inconvenience, but for now please return to your homes and places of business.As she climbs down, most of the grumbling mob begins to disperse.
|
|
Smith approaches the young woman that seems to be Cartahegn, and if able to get a word in with her, he will ask-"Ma'am, it's a pity that the Cartahegns are in an emergency. We were looking to buy from you so much! A pity indeed."
He shrugs and closes his eyes, as if he was about to walk away from her, but before he does so, opens one eye and adds-"Or perhaps fate has made us meet, for it is clear we need your produce, but could it be you need some matters resolved?"
He sidesteps, with one hand in his chest and the other motioning towards the rest of the group-"It just so happens our group has...low standards for mission-taking, so to speak. No coin need leave your hand, only the required goods. What say you, ma'am?"
Oh yes, says the well-dressed woman of barely twenty summers. This ant situation in the sugarpress is dire! We’re losing thousands of pounds of sugarloaf an hour, and frankly I doubt we’ll be able to turn these clicky beasts back. We expended all the available sword arms just chasing the monsters back into the basement. If more ants show, we’ll surely lose the entire mill. I hope you aren’t here to buy food, because if Cartahegn must continue to devote all its resources to fighting off the ants, expect food prices around Bloodcove to triple overnight!
A shame we have no more soldiers. An idea came to me, you see—my housekeeper makes a sort of lotion that frightens bugs away, and I bet if someone dumped a load of it in the ants’ tunnel, it would keep them away until we could brick it up! You didn’t happen to bring any guards or soldiers with you, did you? If you were hoping to buy food and are willing to help us out, I promise you quite a discount in exchange for your services once we’re open again.
As she leads you toward the basement door you see wounded soldiers left and right. Some have cuts and bruises, others are missing limbs. No, I have not heard of any undead in the area. These ants have had me pretty tied up.
You descend the stairs into the gloom of the basement after she hands you the fragrant sack.
After the humidity above, the stark dryness of the basement stands out as unsettling, almost as unsettling as the acrid smell and constant, methodical clicking emanating from the darkness. The remains of bags and crates lie scattered across the floor amid a sea of grayish dust.
The sugarpress stores all its recipients and shipping information in this dry, musty room. Containing no food and smelling faintly of machine oil, it offers little to attract the vermin and remains untouched.
Smith opens the door and peers into the next room.
Intended to store machinery, pipes, and tools for maintaining the furnace, this chamber is more often used by managers looking to catch a quick nap. It too is untouched.
|
|
"Let there be light!" says Princess Mindy, casting a light spell at the feathery end of a crossbow bolt, then loading it in her crossbow.
"If some of you rely on shadows to be sneaky, I plan to lodge this into something, far away from the group."
For the moment's Mindy's crossbow bolt lights up everything within twenty feet of her, however. She lays a gloved hand over the bolt's fletching to douse the light.