A fiery red sun smothers itself in the west, towards diabolic Cheliax, calling you.
A golden sun rises in the sky as each of you wake from beds in your favored inn rooms in Absalom, city at the center of the world. You returned triumphant from Tien last night, the village of the Nesting Swallow defended with your aid against Tengu bandits. The Braid of a Hundred Masters has been returned to its former glory and now safely rendered unto your Pathfinder masters, the Decemvirate. Slipped under your doors, you find a message in a style most familiar; it carries the small potion which bestows upon you a badger's ferocity as reward for your service in your past mission, ensuring that a number of Swallow pilgrims make their way to a particular shrine near Kasai. You know that you, and your fellow comrades, have a new mission.
Simeon rises with the sun. As the golden light filters in through the shutters, he stirs, throwing a forearm over his eyes and rolling toward the west, until at last he gives up on getting any more sleep and sits up. The sheets pool around his lap, and for a long while he simply stares at the window, listening to the sounds of Absalom stirring fitfully in the street below.
With a yawn, he swings his heavily muscled legs over the edge of the bed and rises, scratching at his ribs, passing his hands over the ridges of scar tissue that score his chest as if they were familiar touchstones that remind him of who he is, and the life he has lived. He steps to the shutters and pushes them open, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm, and takes in the chaotic scene below.
Only after the early morning sun has had enough time to warm him does he turn to where his clothing and gear is draped over a chair, and only then does he see the note that's been slid beneath his door. He grunts, not quite with surprise, and walks over to pick it up. He reads it slowly, whispering the words out loud, and then folds the paper and frowns at the wall.
"Cheliax," he says quietly. "Damn it. I hate devils."
With a purpose, he quickly dons his clothing and equipment, and finally pulls open his door. He's sure his companions have received similar notes. Plans will have to be made. Overland travel, or perhaps a ship along the Inland Sea. The others will know what to do. He'll leave the logistics to them, and grab some breakfast while he can.
So thinking, he steps out into the hallway, and goes in search of his friends.
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Rising with the morning sun, Gabriela runs through a rigorous morning routine with her scimitar. Quickly growing into a whirl of skin and steel in the dawn light, she stops, naked and panting in the middle of her room, staring down at the potion accompanying their next message from the Badger Lord.
I'm sure the ugly wizard will be eager to begin another mission for this 'Badger Lord.' she chuckles softly, smiling and shaking her head as she quickly skims the letter.
It'll be good to spend some time at sea; even the heavily-patrolled route to Cheliax would be nice.
After quickly washing up and grabbing her gear, Gabriela heads through the inn's common room, where she drops a gold piece on the bar as she grabs a whole loaf of bread and a small stack of bacon from the provided breakfast, munching happily on her way to meet the others.
It's getting boring here in any case.
As the sun's rays start illuminating the small inn room, a faint stream of muttered curses can be heard as Dieuwer forces himself to rise up from his bed. With tired eyes, the half-elf stares at the letter on the floor like the inanimate object had wronged him personally.
Would it have been too much to ask to have just one day off? We arrived less than a day ago...
Resigning to his fate, he picks up the message and the potion, and after carefully inspecting them both and checking the potion magically for poison, stows them both into his backpack and proceeds to shuffle out from his room and towards the common room. Perhaps a good breakfast would help him cheer up a bit.
The sunlight beams into the stables, illuminating the crooked form of Renald lying sprawled on a bale of hay. The tiefling stirs a bit, but refused to wake up. It is only his familiar pecking at his skull that manages to wake him. "Ugh, dammit, Crookbeak," the teifling says while swatting in the hawk's general direction. "I'm up, I'm up!" The wizard stretches his overlong arms and yawns, before his eyes drift towards the note and potion.
He grabs his spellbook, stows the potion in his pocket, and gives the letter a thorough read. Excellent! Another mission from my favorite Badger Lord. Who may or may not be the only Badger Lord. His joy is dampened a bit when his eyes glance over where they were to meet. Oh boy. They're not big on tieflings in Cheliax. This is going to be...interesting.
Shrugging, he shoves the letter into his spellbook with the other letters he had recieved. He whistles for Crookbeak to perch on his shoulder, and walks into into the inn's common room, his hair still tangled with hay.
Hames Theothelm, Cleric of Apsu, was perhaps the first to rise and the first to find the note. Somehow, perhaps as a result of the season or his clerical duties, it had been instilled in him to wake some time before the sun peaked over the horizon; and so he woke while the stars were still in the sky. Hames didn't mind this tendency for early mornings, it gave him ample time for quiet prayer and reading. It was after tending to some of his immediate physical needs that Hames discovered the note. He read the words aloud, for he was always of the opinion that words held more meaning when spoken.
"The Badger Lord call you for a great service," started Hames, his eyes scanning further down the page. "Great service will provide great rewards. Ask for Mot at the sign of the Dancing Devil in Egorion, old capital of Cheliax. Dig as fast as you can, cub." He paused before reading the next part, a light grimace crossing his features, "All praise the mighty Badger Lord." With a haggard sigh, Hames placed both the note and potion on top of the room's cabinetry.
The very idea of praise belonging to anyone other than Apsu, Maker of All—was utterly repugnant. Of course, he didn't mind those who worshiped gods other than Apsu, as long as they remembered their creator, and weren't a blasphemer or one of Dahak's lot. Torag worshipers for instance, and all Dwarven-kind, believed that Torag created the multiverse; certainly there was no greater instance of arrogance and blasphemy in all of Golarion, even more than this Badger Lord claiming "all praise".
Speaking of other gods, he had been meaning to ask Gabriela about her devotion to Sarenrae, and he had heard something about an "S" god that Dieuwer served.
Pushing these thoughts away (for now), Hames set his mind about the task of worship, and the next hour were spent in prayer, quiet thought, and the words of Draconic Apsu. By the time Hames was finished the others were already waiting, and knowing this he gathered up all of his earthly possessions and descended the stairs from the upper, private rooms and into the common area. When he arrived he would, at his insistence, lead the party in a group prayer that would simultaneously bless the food and drink for their breakfast and place them under the protection of the Waybringer, Apsu.
As has been your tradition whenever such missives wind their way to each of you, all of you quickly gather in a private room in a discrete in to make plans.
Simeon is the first downstairs. He makes his way across the mostly empty common room, walking slowly between the round tables to the bar, where he smiles genially to the tender and slides across a couple of battered coppers in exchange for a flagon of small beer and a platter of cheese, black bread, honey, and grapes. These in hand, he nods his thanks and bumps open the side door with his hip, stepping into the private dining room in which the group celebrated the night before.
Moving to the far side of the rough octagonal table, he sets his plate and flagon down and pushes back the chair. As he sits, his stomach rumbles audibly, and he breaks off a chunk of break on which he roughly spreads the cheese and then slathers the honey. Leaning back on the chair's rear legs, he munches contentedly, popping the occasional grape in his mouth and washing the bread down with the beer until his first companion joins him.
"Morning," he says affably. His feet are up on the edge of the table, thick walking boots still crusted from last night's trek into town. "I wonder what kind of breakfast they serve in Cheliax?
Descending the inn's stair, clad in his traveler's outfit, Hames espies Gabriela leaving a gold piece on the bar, before taking a somewhat paltry serving of food (fried pork slices and a loaf of bread) for the coin tendered. What she took was worth maybe one silver piece at the most. Seeking to take advantage of his friend's excess, Hames approaches the bar, interrupting the bartender before she could take the coin. With a shrewd smile he explains that Gabriela and him are part of the same adventuring party ("You saw us come in together last night, didn't you?") and that she intended to pay for his breakfast with the change. The Cleric left with a meaty slice of dried trout, soft cheese, and a tall glass of water.
Leaving the bar with his bounty, Hames watches as Simeon disappears into a private room and promptly follows. He steps inside just in time to see Simeon take a big bite of his bread. How could any sensible person dare to partake of an unblessed meal? The Cleric conceded that it was not strictly necessary to pray before each meal, but all the same. "Cheliax, said Hames, briefly pausing. "I see you received the same message as I, and mayhaps the same as the others in our group." Walking around the table, he sits at what could be called the head of the table, the seat furthest away from the door. With a wave of his hand and a small prayer, he casts Purify Food and Water, blessing his and Simeon's meal.
He does this for every member of his party that comes in with food.
"Morning," Dieuwer mumles a greeting to those present as he enters the room with a tray overflowing with all kinds of food. He half-places, half-slams it on the table, and it isn't until at least half of its contents have disappeared that he speaks further. "So, we're going to Egorian... Shouldn't be too hard to get there. It might be harder for us to get out from there, depending what kind of task this "Mot" fellow will have for us. Either way, there's probably quite a lot of ships going to Cheliax soon, we should be able to find one that'll take us near our destination."
Some basic planning throws up an easy route involving a ship journey to Ostenso and then a brief overland journey to Egorian.
Simeon bows his head as Hames consecrates the food, though by this point the cleric's figured out that it's not from reverence, but rather Simeon's willingness to humor his friend as well as an appreciation for what it does to the quality of the grub.
"You're a champ, Hames," says Simeon, tearing off a chunk from the rapidly diminishing loaf and dipping it in the honey. "We ever get forced out of this adventuring business, we can open a tavern of our own. You spice and treat the food, I bounce the patrons that don't pay, eh?" Simeon grins at Hames, then crunches the crust between his strong teeth.
"Mornin', Dieuwer," he says around a full mouth to the half elf, and pushes a very dark and very intense mug of coffee over. He knows better than to talk to the man before he's had a chance to wake up proper, so he just eats slowly and when Dieuwer speaks, he nods. "Aye, by boat might be best. My arse still hasn't recovered from that mule I rode all last week. Let's make it a big ship though, hey? Less rocking and rolling. Though I wonder." Simeon pops the last grape in his mouth and crushes it in his molars. "These Badger Lords. Or Badger Lord. How does he get around so much, huh? I thought badgers just stayed in their burrows."
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Gabriela smiles to the few other patrons in the common room, softly humming a melodic tune that seems to quietly resonate longer than it should. She greets Renald at the door and matches pace to the group's rented meeting room. Still humming quietly to herself, Gabriela holds out a strip of meat for the bird of prey perched alert on the bedraggled man's shoulder. She flicks the potion given as reward by the Badger Lord lightly with her nail, now hanging from her belt, and holds out the remaining bacon for the animal-loving Tiefling. She picks a few pieces straw from Renald's hair and clothes before grabbing a bowl of fruit & nuts from the bar and stepping briskly ahead into the private room.
As she enters the room Gabriela stops her humming midway with a smile and a nod to Dieuwer. She leans against the wall next to the door and munches quietly for a moment. "I'm sure those stiff-backed devil-worshippers are starving for a bit of real fun - Bet they'd never let us leave if they could." She says in response to Dieuwer, with a wink to Simeon. "It's not really a badger, lad, it's just some wealthy Lords who think themselves clever by pretending to be this mysterious 'Badger Lord.'" Also speaking between mouthfuls, "Likely they have enemies among the evil Chelaxians."
"Shame to say I don't know any captains around here myself, but like you said shouldn't be a problem finding us a good crew already making the journey."
Hames chuckles as Simeon's suggestion, briefly entertaining the notion of owning an tavern, but not commenting further. Perhaps he could become a cook and live that simple life, let the people come to him and witness the blessings of Apsu, rather than traveling far to meet the masses. But that would not serve Apsu's purpose, for Dahak's Allies are many, and it is Apsu's will that these be eliminated. Once this commission was done, it was Hames' opinion that the god's power would be turned back to making order and to creation, and peace and prosperity would rule. Then, maybe, he could live the more ordinary life of a priest or innkeeper.
He observes Dieuwer and Gabriela as they enter the room, listening to the conversation. Hames speaks up, "I must admit to knowing nothing about this Cheliax country. Would someone to care to enlighten me about these 'evil, devil worshipers'?"
Simeon recalls and can tell Hames that Cheliax was once the heartland of an old and massive empire, now broken up into a variety of nations. To defeat disorder and avoid being unseated, one of its ruling families struck an unknown bargain with the forces of Hell, and with their help took over and stabilized the nation. The nation is run by a tyranny, holds Hellknights and allied dark powers, and an active Church of Asmodeus whose precepts the country bases its own on. Of course, like all countries, it is mostly full of ordinary folk just trying to make a living, but with a few quirks. Like attitudes to tieflings.
"So you see," finishes Simeon, waving his almost empty cup of beer airly, "An absolutely lovely place for the Badger Lord-man to send us."
He finishes the cup and sets it down and looks over to Gabriela. "I'm sure you can rustle up a ship for us in no time, right Ms. Calideon?" He's called her that since they first met. He grins. "Then we can sail on over to Cheliax, get this thing done, and maybe after ask the Badger Lord why he pretends to be a badger. It's downright confusing to us common folk."
Renald shuffles into the room with Gabriela, and savagely gnaws on the bacon he was given. He waits for Simeon to finish talking before speaking up himself. "Well, if you want to get technical, the Badger Lord never actually claimed to be a badger. It could be some kind of super-advanced creature ruling over badgers and badger related things, like a dragon lording over kobolds." Renald pauses to swallow the chunk of bacon in his throat before continuing.
"So. I know Cheliax isn't a very nice place for guys like me. Or anyone, really, but especially tieflings. But exactly how bad are we talking here? 'Unpleasant discrimination' bad or 'public lynching' bad?"
Renald notes that Cheliax has a fairly standard Inner Sea country ecology; bears and wolves in the forested parts, bison and hyena on the plains, rats in the cities. Other threats like drakes, abominations and giant insects are too rare and unpredictable to predict without specific notice.
Simeon smiles lazily, that dangerous smile of his that the group has often seen prefigure the beginning of a fight. "The Chelaxians are welcome to take issue with your heritage, Renald. But first they'll have to get through the rest of us."
He rises to his feet and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Let's go see about that ship, yeah? After all, the early bird catches the devil."
Hames finishes his breakfast and stands, speaking up before anyone has a chance to slip out. "Perhaps it would be prudent to hire an Agent or Lawyer to inform us about the local ordinances in Cheliax? It might be wise, considering the land is somewhat unknown to us." The Cleric smiles.
"Shall we pray, says Hames, smiling, "before setting off for the day's adventures?" With a small motion of his hands and fingers, he beckons everyone closer. It wasn't unusual for the cleric to do this, and in some ways it seemed beneficial. Besides, he would've protested (loudly) if anyone tried to miss out on it.
—"Apsu, you are the first.
—"You are the primeval,
—"who was of Heaven
—"and of Material
—"before they had names.
—"You are the Waybringer,
—"who guides your children,
—"bringing order to their ways.
—"Therefore, guide your servant,
—"lead us through the chaos
—"that is to come.
—"You are the Exiled Wyrm,
—"and you know all too well
—"the pain of sojourn in foreign lands.
—"Therefore, lead us quickly
—"over sea and land
—"and through this Cheliax country,
—"and let us not long for home.
—"But in all things,
—"Apsu, Maker of All,
—"let your will be done,
—"until the day you shall go
—"and end Death."
Finishing the prayer, a strange power seems to fall over the party. As long as the cleric stays close, things seem to be more orderly, predictable. Hames, however, doesn't seem different, and he eagerly awaits the party's next move, accompanying them to the next destination.
Eventually, the group sets off.
The journey is long, yet disparate enough to stop it seeming exhausting. Ship rides to Ostenso, carriage rides along the main roads, and now a shortcut across a well-trod country path to reach Egorian more directly than going via one of the trading posts. Eventually, as another dusk dawns along one of the paths, you come across a camp of about twenty people. A man in monstrous black armor and a red tabard stands up, and two Chelish soldiers on watch press hands against hilts. "Halt, who goes there?" Behind him, you can see a few more guards as well as the bulk of the crowd- over ten halflings ranging from the very young and the very old, most shackled and a few teary-eyed.
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She also continues to perform her ritual dance each morning, wearing just enough clothes to feign modesty, which itself is of course the sailors' popular entertainment during the trip, to the Aasimar's amusement.
Gabriela's brows furrow for a moment at the captive halflings as the situation eludes her understanding, but she turns to the Chellish guard captain with a broad, friendly smile. "We're just road-weary travelers; friends meeting an acquaintance in the old capital to see firsthand the lavish comforts and Chelish might he often brags about." One hand rests lightly on the hilt of her scimitar, more a posture of comfort and convenience than any evident concern.
During the ocean voyage, he attempts to convert one of the sailor's to Apsu worship.
Hames steps ahead of the group, moving with Gabriela. He gingerly approaches the man in the black armor, rubbing his hands together. "This looks like a government outfit. I can see why you'd be nervous, transporting this chain gang," Hames briefly gestures to the Halflings. "This road does lead to Egorion, correct?"
Simeon is content to loom behind Gabriela, his longspear crossed over both shoulders, hands resting over the shaft as if it were a yoke. His face is studiedly neutral, but he takes his time marking the position of each soldier .
The armored man looks over each of you carefully and nods. "At ease, men." The sentries relax a little and press themselves against trees, the others go back to the potatoes. The armored man removes his ghastly helm, revealing black hair, blue eyes and a heavy burn mark along his left chin and ear. "Hellknight Ambrus, Order of the Chain. Soldiers Petrus and Jackrack on guard over there" He points at the sentries, then nods to Hames, "The road does head that-a-way, though we're headed a little further north." Then to Gabriela. "For security reasons, hope you won't mind if we don't let you share our campfire, but the grass over there is dry and soft. Welcome to have friendly faces nearby on these nights. And yeah, we're on official business."
"So we're headed the same way?" Hames pauses, turning to the rest of his party. "What do you say? Should we spend the night here, or move further along the road?"
Simeon gives a shrug, allowing the rolling motion of his shoulders to cause his wickedly barbed longspear to swing up and around so that its butt plants itself in the dirt of the road. Leaning against it, he considers the guards then looks at Hames.
"Might as well bed down here. The presence of the Hellknight will keep random trouble at bay. Might as well take advantage of that. Long as the slaves don't cry too much and keep us up all night, that is."
Back on the ship, Hames energetically spoke with a sailor about Apsu and his deservingness of worship and the goodness of his church; however, after nodding politely for a time, the sailor eventually revealed that his family were staunch worshippers of Gozreh, and leaving his faith might invite his fickleness. The sailor points to the long beard and tuft of fresh seaweed threaded through his hair whose significance Hames did not realize.
"Sure, sounds fine," Dieuwer says, trying to keep his voice from betraying how uncomfortable he feels. He can't bring himself to trust the hellknight at all, and seeing the poor halflings chained up just breaks his heart. But nonetheless, he knows that they need to avoid getting undue attention, and the Chelaxians might get suspicious if they insisted in keeping their distance without any apparent reason.
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Smiling, she nods to the Hellknight. "Name's Gabriela. Friendly faces are certainly a welcome sight, particularly since we don't know the area ourselves."
Gabriela is already moving toward the indicated grassy area as the group agrees to set camp near the Chelish contingent. When Simeon mentions the slaves, her attention is again drawn to the armed guards and their distraught wards with renewed suspicion. Gabriela continues to smile as she turns back to Ambrus, although her eyes no longer hold the same joviality.
"Of course we understand your need for security, Hellknight Ambrus." She nods to the slaves, and her face grows sterner for just a moment. "Before we do set up camp in the area here, and as we appear to be heading in the same direction, might I inquire - for our own safety - as to the nature of these criminals?
Hames stays quiet, silently realizing that the party has failed to pack any camping supplies.
He raises an eyebrow but does not seem suspicious as he gestures behind them. "Escaped slaves; got them back two towns from border, closest call I've ever had. Should get a nice bonus for this. Heh, glad I'm me and not them, they're not going to have a pleasant time when they get back to their owners, oh no. Asmodeus' eye shines cruelly on law-breakers, and more importantly so do most of their noble family owners." He grins.
Simeon has been lounging on his spear, relaxed and patient, but as the Hellknight delivers his last words, he flicks his gaze quickly from Gabriela to Diewur. Knowing his companion's sensitivities, he straightens and steps forward, placing one large hand on Gabriela's shoulder. His grip is firm, though his manner is still relaxed.
"It's been a long day. You wouldn't believe how far we've traveled, and how exhausted we all are. We won't take any more of your time. Good night, Sir Ambrus."
So saying, he smiles and begins to turn Gabriela around and back toward the indicated camping site.
The Hellknight nods amiably, and dons his helmet. "Good to have good people around. 'Night." He and his soldiers return to their posts.
"'Night," Dieuwer replies and, after getting far enough (very far enough) from the Hellknight, mutters silently to himself: "I'd like to have good people around as well, but instead I get a damn Hellknight."
Renald spends the entire diplomatic situation silently standing in the back of the party and staring pointedly at the ground, his whole body tense. He mutters a quiet "G'night." as the Hellknight leaves. He waits for the knight to be well out of sight before relaxing and letting out a heavy sigh of relief. "Well, that was awful. So, it seems we're expected to sleep not far from a Hellknight and fistful of Chelish soldiers. I call dibs on the grass pile furthest from those guys!"
"Hah! I asked whether we'd like to travel further down the road. We could have used any number of excuses." Hames keeps pace with the party's exit, gently stroking his beard. "So it appears the Halflings are both prisoners and slaves. I suppose that explains some of the tenseness I felt from our group."
Slavery didn't exactly bother Hames, as long as it fell within the law of the land. It was up to the master as to how a slave would be treated. The cleric himself sometimes positively referred to himself a slave of Apsu, following his every command; for calling oneself a servant seemed to denote equality with the master.
"Apsu's eye also shines disfavorably on law-breakers," starts Hames, speaking to the rest of the party, "And yet I sense a plot at work, to spring the prisoners." He smiled knowingly and somewhat halfheartedly.
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Allowing Simeon to lead her away, muscles tense under the large man's grip, Gabriela's growing scowl shows her agreement with Dieuwer and Renald. "You're welcome to keep your distance - I don't blame you for that, but I think I might pay our new 'friends' a little visit tonight."
She eyes Hames for a moment, shaking her head at the devout priest's acceptance of the situation. "What good are laws forced on people, degrading their lives and spreading misery? Sarenrae teaches we should help those less fortunate, and give those on the wrong side of justice a second chance."
Gabriela glances back to the guards and recaptured runaways before looking to the others, grinning mirthlessly. "What'dya say fellas, should we help those poor creatures and keep Sir Ambrus from getting his 'nice bonus' at the cost of their continued mistreatment?
Simeon rubs at his jaw as he considers Gabriela's words. He's clearly hesitant to speak, but when he does, his voice is a quiet rumble.
"I've got no problem suckering that knight into an unfair battle. I'm sure we can take him. But what happens then? We free the halflings, wish them good luck, and send them on their way? They already got caught once. Their punishment's liable to be a lot worse the second time."
He looks from Gabriela to Renald to Dieuwer.
"Also, we're heading deeper into Cheliax, not out. Killing Hellknights is going to rile up the law. You sure you want to risk drawing that kind of attention?"