The second scenario in the round robin.
Please dot in here :)
You find yourselves inside the Grand Lodge’s central hub structure of Skyreach, waiting to meet with the three deans of the Pathfinder Society in one of the lodge’s many meeting chambers.
The room is spacious with a high ceiling and well coordinated decorations. It contains a wooden large table surrounded by enough chairs for all of you and the deans.
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Lokaloka sits in the corner of the lodge, playing a slow tune on a set of pipes she earlier conjured. It'd been weeks since the mission in Absalom. She was now a graduate of the Pathfinder Academy! A shiny new Wayfinder sat on her belt, its personalized cover gleaming. She wondered where her friends were. She stops playing only long enough to take a bite of the pickle from the pickle jar she always carried with her.
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The door opens quietly, and a figure walks inside. Pale, not too tall, and not too strong. Yet, somehow athletic in her own right, she moves almost as if the squeaky floor moved away from her path. Her short ash blonde hair is a little messy, but she doesn't seem to mind. As long as it doesn't get in the way. Her shirt is covered by a leather vest, and her belt holds a sling and at least one pouch. A sheath is strapped to her shin, containing a dagger. She walks in, finds a place to sit near the goblin, and drops her backpack into the chair before turning to the bard.
"Hi."
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An elderly looking kobold teeters into the room. Their scales might have been a bright cobalt blue at one points but now they've faded to a muted stone blue. In places along their face and body, extra spikes have grown out of their head and body, not unlike older dragons that kobolds claim descent from, and clear sign this one has seen more than a handful of decades.
They stop, and lean on a frankly too large wooden manhole cover that seems to double as both shield and walking support, and scans the room with eyes that have seen more than their fair share and decided it was all... meh. Walking up to the two others in the room, they give each a judging look and seems disappointed in them. "Yous alls called here by de Deans? Wonder what crap we's getting into? Been dang near on me own in a sewer for over fifty years, fighting back evil reflections but still have ta take three years of classes to prove my worth? BAH!"
With an angry flump, they plop themselves down near the two others and start nattering. "Even visited de famed Sewer Dragons out here! Dang, whippersnappers gots it sooooo easy! Big, ol' well inhabiteds place like dis? Ya alls can get whatever yas want down dere! Now, living in a sewer wheres de only ding above is deadly monsters wantsings to kill yas? Now deres a challange!"
They pause for a moment, and finally ask, "So, wheres yas from? Born and raised in de Tapestry o'that most divine figure, Hao Jin herself."
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Lokaloka glances up at Ysoldt sitting next to her. "Oh. Hello! You musts be Ysoldt. Quickblade says you'se good rogue. You'se will be joining us? I's Lokaloka. Pickle?" she asks, offering Ysoldt her pickle jar.
She then looks over a the elderly kobold. "You'se look wise. You'se met with Sewer Dragons? Two of mine friends meet with sewer dragons too!"
She reaches into the pickle jar and offers a medium sized cucumber to the kobold. "Pickle?"
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Igaraise shrugs at the question about meeting the Sewer Dragons. "Meh, Doughts deys gonna be good ta knows, but dey proved to be less dan I's was hoping for." They scoff in derision and seem ready to start into a tirade about the softness of this plane's kobolds before they get sidetracked by the offer of a pickle. Blinking a few times, the kobold looks at the offered cucumber and then up at Loka. "Huh, Yeah, I's would. Ya ain't half'as bad as I's dought." Dey take the pickle and crunch into it. "Oooohhh, dat's good! Crunchy'n'juicy! What'd ya use ta make it? Mights have ta brings some of me swamp vinegar-pickled mushrooms to ya."
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Ysold seems surprised for a moment. "That is ... interesting.", she waves at the newly arrived talent in the room. "My reputation somehow precedes me. Is this organisation so tightly-knit?"
"Fair enough.", she moves a bit from her backpack. "Yes - it is -I-", she puts her palm to her heart with a pompous gesture. "Ysold of Wintercrux! The Aerial Absolute! The Diving Dame! The ... oh, I can't keep this up.", she smiles. "I used to be witht he circus up north. Hello everyone."
She keeps radiating an aura of surety and good spirits from under her sly smile., and sits back next to Lokaloka. Interested, she takes the offered pickle and bites onto it.
"Pretty good. Could use some chanterelles in that brine."
As you are chatting, three people enter the spacious meeting room. A male elf, garbed in fine red robes with gold embroidery enters first. The second to enter is a woman with snow white hair and a cluster of multicolored gems orbiting her head, laden with books. Finally, a bald human male with a bushy beard smiles widely and then curses to himself as the array of weapons along his back get stuck in the doorframe.
These three are the deans of the Pathfinder Society. Kreighton Shaine, the elf Master of Scrolls; Sorrina Westyr, the oread Master of Spells; and Marcos Farabellus, the human Master of Swords.
Kreighton takes the empty seat at the head of the table, while Sorrina takes an adjacent seat to his side. Marcos half-jogs to join
his colleagues, but after a few seconds of awkwardly trying to seat himself and his panoply of back-mounted weapons, he pushes his chair in and stands behind it with a wide, if apologetic, grin.
“Regrets for the sudden nature of this meeting. I’ll try to be brief.” Kreighton begins. “One of our most enthusiastic Pathfinder initiates, a fungus leshy by the name of Rain in Cloudy Day, was recently approved for his Confirmation. In case you’ve forgotten, a Confirmation is a mission we send initiates on as a final test before recognizing them as full field agents. It was a mission to the nearby nation of Taldor to search for some ruins in a swamp near the city of Cassomir. Standard fare for a Pathfinder mission, but Rain hasn’t reported back, and it’s been a week since his expected check-in.”
Sorrina Westyr extends a hand. “This is where you come in. Even though Rain in Cloudy Day is still an initiate, the Pathfinder Society doesn’t leave its own behind. Us three masters have agreed that a special exception is necessary. For those of you who haven’t finished your own Confirmation, we’re willing to offer each of you a place in a group Confirmation. We’ll provide a stipend of gold for you to book your passage to Cassomir, and from there, you’ll need to find out what happened to Rain.”
The Master of Swords, Marcos Farabellus, chimes in with a chuckle. “Exactly what my associates have just said. Find a boat, head to Cassomir, enjoy a bit of the city’s livelier elements, and then head into the swamps to find our missing initiate. Of course, if you find little Rain alive and well... then you can really prove yourselves by helping him discover those ruins and finish his own Confirmation!”
Kreighton Shane looks over towards you. "Any questions?"
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Ysoldt smiles when they mention the name. "Questions ... Erm - yes. What exactly was Rain-", she stops and quickly rethinks - "... the agent's mission?"
"Just so that we have something to follow. Not to offend, but a briefing of "go and find fungus in a swamp near Cassomir" is a little... Broad, I guess?"
She stands up and shuffles her backpack a bit to compact the items a bit, then puts it back into it's original place. "As in, can I get a map that would at least outline the general area? Or are there contacts in Cassomir that might point us the right way? That kind of thing."
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Igaraise huffs slightly at hearing they still had to do yet another thing to get the Pathfinder Society to recognize their abilities. They don't have forever to be sitting around and proving themselves.
After a bit the comment, "Rain-in-Cloudy-Day? 's a good name. Like it. He dat purple fella in last year's 'Mushrooms and Fungi of Avistan?' Seemed pretty energetic."
Shaking their head they ask, "We knows what he planned, 'n' where he's ta go? If not den dis be an actual challenge fa once!"
Kreighton Shane is the first to respond to your questions.
"Rain, as he is sometimes called left just under three weeks ago. I was working on something with him and he uncovered evidence of ruins in Taldor’s Blackwood Swamp, just north of Cassomir, that may date back to the time of the ancient Azlanti Empire. As you may know, the Azlanti civilization effectively ended when a swarm of meteors descended on our planet in an event known as Earthfall. These ruins were likely built by Azlanti who survived the event, and are possibly 6,000 years old, or older.”
Sorrina Westyr adds “Rain chartered a vessel from here to the Taldan port city of Cassomir. He was to check in at the Three-Legged Frog, an inn in the city’s Imperial Naval Shipyards district. From there, he was going to have a guide lead him into the adjacent Blackwood Swamp to start searching for the ruins. We haven’t heard back since he left.”
within the city.
Igaraise cannot recall anything about the swamp. (Nor can Lokaloka)
Marcos Farabellus says "Anything else?"
Kreighton focuses on Igaraise, who does not appear to be leaving. "A sensible question, my good kobold." He detaches a small sack from his belt and places it on the table. "As this is a Confirmation mission, these are the funds with which we expect you to secure passage, accommodation and information. The stipend is 6 gold pieces each. You should not use any of your own funds. I have already secured transport back from Cassomir, just in case Rain in Cloudy Day is injured or worse."
Sorrina places a pair of minor healing potions on the table next to the gold. "The Blackwood Swamp is a dangerous, rotting marshland and you may find these helpful."
Marcos then slides an everburning torch across the table and smiles as he casually tosses a couple of lesser antidote potions at those who are turning to leave.
Lastly, Kreighton Shaine places a Wayfinder on the table. "I want people to know who you are and what you represent whilst you are on this mission."
Marcos laughs heartily. "Excellent reflexes. I look forward to seeing you on your return." He nods his head slightly as a goodbye.
Our heroes make their way to the Docks District of Absalom to secure travel to Cassomir (See image on slide). Luckily for them, there are plenty of notices and criers at the Docks, all informing crowds of open spaces onboard vessels set to travel across the Inner Sea region and beyond.
You begin to despair after spending nearly two hours fruitlessly trying to find anything useful in the bustling, noisy, distracting docks. Thalaasi comes to your rescue. He recalls being down here not too long ago, meeting visitors from Kyonin. Cutting through the hawkers, recruiters and labourers, he finds the only three possibilities for travel.
The choices he presents are; the Mimosa, proclaiming a rapid and luxurious voyage to Cassomir at 5gp per head, the Powerful Hector, at 2.5gp per head and the Opportune at 1gp per head.
Where would you like to go and who would you like to meet?
Going with the (slight) majority, you make your way down to the waterfront. You pass the Mimosa on your way to the Powerful Hector. It is a beautiful sight; polished whitewood hull with gold filigree, liveried servants carrying the luggage of passengers boarding and what looks to be a drinks reception happening up on deck.
Approaching the Powerful Hector, you see it is a large wooden sail barge, not ostentatious, but solid-looking. A tall, muscular human man wearing a peaked cap is just shaking hands with a merchant whilst a bookkeeper finishes paperwork next to them. You assume he is either the captain or first mate as his clothing looks to be of better quality than the other sailors around.
He turns to you, noting the wayfinder you carry. "Pathfinders? Eduard Tabrin, captain of the Powerful Hector. If you're headed to Cassomir, I have enough space for you. It'll take six days. It'd a be pleasure. My man here will deal with payment. What's it to be?" You can't quite place his accent as it seems to be blended from many places.
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Ysoldt shrugs as the group opts for the Powerful Hector. "I have spent a solid portion of my life sleeping on hay, waking up with snow on my hair. Your call."
She movs past the Mimosa and scoffs ever so slightly at the sight of bluebloods being pampered. "To each their own, I suppose.", she mutters under her breath and moves on.
"Six bunks to Cassomir, my good man!", Ysoldt steps forward to shake his hand. "If you give us a small discount, I can help you with the rigging on the way... I used to climb ropes for a living. And jump from one to another."
She looks at the vessel top to bottom very quick.
"Ship looks nice. Is it yours?"
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Igaraise stares at the ship for a long moment, trying to judge whether it would weather a good storm or not.
They give a sniff and nod, acting like they know how solid it would be, whether or not they actually do. "Sounds good ta mes. Ifs ya wants, I's can make sure your drinking waters is always clean. Should be good for a... uh... 'price hike?' That the right word?"