Please dot and delete. We will begin shortly.
The Pathfinder lodge in Oppara hides behind the façade of a greasy bait and tackle shop. It provides the standard services to Pathfinders but is notable for its wayfinders, produced by an elderly and talented mage-machinist, named Muesello.
You are all gathered in at the back of the building near the entrance of Venture-Captain Muesello's workshop, away from the rather long line of fishermen at the front of the building.
You wait several hours until the Venture-Captain shows up. "My, you young whipper snappers are early today! when I said tomorrow morning I didn't mean to beat the fishermen to it at the crack of dawn! no matter... here I am. Know that I appreciate your punctuality. Please forgive my lack of clarity on when to meet here. There, come into my shop."
The Venture-Captain unlocks the door and bids you to come in. A large table with several chairs has been adorned with an unsealed letter.
"I need your help to deal with this. Take a look at this letter and see what you can do. I'm not sure if this request comes from a noble or some kind of historian, but I don't have time for this kind of stuff. The messenger who brought this here assured the Lodge that any required travel will be chartered directly by the gentleman who signed these letters."
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As the first light of dawn crests the horizon, Ren turns so that it may warm his skin. He savours the moment before following the Venture-Captain inside.
"Speaking with an ancient tree. Thank you for entrusting us with this mission, I'm sure this will be a wonder to behold."
Rek stops to ponder the letter for a little longer, "These Wildwood druids, and the Verduran Forest. What is there to know about them? I'm from the South and this is the first time I've heard those names."
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Umberto Ricci, a barrel-chested man with dirty blonde hair, comes to sit at the table. The mace and tankard looped to his belt clink a bit as he moves to sit. The stubble and bags under his eyes give the impression of a long night or at least restless sleep. He reads over the letter and passes it around the assembled group. A talking tree then, Venture-Captain. Are we tasked with documenting the stories of battle or is there anything else we should see to?
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Eurus of Clan Frostwind is a young average sized young woman with a small frame, but walks with a certain grace. She has creamy skin and very long hair in the colour of rust, falling down almost half her back. Her heritage is only oblivious in the crystal blue orbs she has for eyes and her hair that always seems to be in a breeze.
In battle she wears a simple lamellar leather armor with buckles styled after gearwheels. Her earrings, her sash and the ribbons of her explorer´s outfit are the same crystal blue as her eyes.
She is carrying a brand new crossbow of simple style and a strange dagger like weapon as arment, but booth seem to be unused.
Her voice is a whispery sopran. A tiny little clockwork dragon laquered in emerald green named Perbetuum is sitting on her shoulder.
Reading the introduction letter Frostwind takes out a notebook and takes few notes.
She also ponders what she knows about the druids of the Wildwood Lodge.
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In walks this beautiful woman, flowing hair, perfect features, incredible poise and pose, a holy symbol of Iomadae around her neck. She undoes her sword at her side and places it against the wall before taking a seat at the table.
"The early adventurer completes the campaign, good sir. Kim Jong Healz at your service, feel free to call me Kim."
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A varisian man wrapped in pretty silken scarves and dangling ornaments waits as well, constantly shuffling a deck of harrow cards in what is probably a nervous habit. When he sees the captain approaching, he flips up a card, looks at it, nods mysteriously, then stows the deck in a protective case on his belt.
Morning Captain. Caravan rides with the light of dawn, no bother to me.
He waits to hear the answer to the other questions, as they reflect his own.
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At first glance, the plodding figure who arrives last appears to be a dwarf. At least, his build and features bear a striking resemblance to that race.
But male dwarves who don't have beards are so rare as to be almost non-existent and his gray skin suggests he is one of the darker, deeper living sub-species. Closer examination shows that his skin is rocky and reveals his true ancestry as having some elemental blood mixed in.
He has a large scythe on leaning on his shoulder and he seems to be talking to himself. Though, given the pauses, there definitely seems to be someone else he is listening to.
He listens to the briefing and reads the letter then looks around at his companions.
"A shame there is not a druid amongst us," he comments, though then goes silent.
Looking at Umberto and Ren, he says, "Yes, that is correct. Document, take notes, and bag any evidence you find. You know the drill: if it goes bad don't implicate or at least minimize the damage on the Society... if it goes well and it looks good on the Society, make sure your report is accurate and list everyone that benefited from the Society's help. A favor in the bank is never a bad thing. I'm hoping it doesn't go bad. Remember you will act as agents of the Society. It's one thing to help, but make sure not to draw trouble back to the Society by giving the help. Otherwise, what's the point of aiding this Alcasti family if we make new enemies somewhere else? As usual though, feel free to defend yourselves if you feel threatened or to intervene if you witness something that would be unspeakable from a Society's perspective"
You sense that despite his innocuous, craftsman appearance, Muesello has probably been in Oppara a long time, and he's starting to tackle things like a politician. Not a bad Venture-Captain to be leading this particular task, you think... once everyone is in:
"Good show, people! all of your seems to have arrived. Despite the secretive nature of this Lodge, which has been operated informally for so, so long, it is nice to see formality in the flesh once in a while. It reminds me that I'm part of something good and noble, and that I'm not just a glorified clock repairman! I admire your spirit and enthusiasm, but I warn you all: do remain impartial in your negotiations and dealings abroad. This appears to be the typical attempt at rebuilding a certain noble family name in the eyes of Taldor. At this time there is no way to predict what the Primogen Crown's decision will be in regards to the Alcasti family, regardless of how good the evidence you'll uncover will be. I am unsure whether their honor was besmirched maliciously or justly, but I've been told several other letters are to arrive in the next few weeks. I am glad that agents such as you are part of these missions however, as I am sure you will handle the subject with the respect and gravitas it deserves. A few agents I've dealt with over the years treat everything like an errands list, and sometimes do more damage than the mission is worth."
A young man comes in right before lunch, taking everyone's lunch order and grabbing the Venture-Captain's correspondence for the day. After confirming your plans with you, Muesello adds a letter to the pile before the young man leaves, adding, "Make sure you start with this letter, son. Bring it immediately to Mister Alcasti so that he can finalize transit details to the Verdurant Forest."
You have the rest of the day to prepare in any way you see fit. The next morning you all board a passenger ship to Cassomir, and from there you transfer to a smaller river boat. The journey of a few days to the Verdurant Forest is otherwise uneventful.
As the boat glides to a stop among the sweet-smelling blackwood trees on the river’s edge, a gnome woman with twigs braided into her hair waves to the boat’s pilot. A small bear cub waits patiently at her side, while a red-bearded dwarf glowers over her shoulder.
The vessel’s pilot wishes you well and promises to wait here for your return. As you step off the boat, the gnome lady says, "Pathfinders yes? - I'm Trajet. My dwarf brother here is Polgrin, and the bear goes by Firepaw. We've been tasked to be yer guides to your destination. Let's go."
The guides set out at a good pace and the docks quickly disappear as you are engulfed by the forest trails.
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Bielsi spends the day that he has shopping, switching out equipment that he no longer needs for items more appropriate for his new path now that he's agreed to be a conduit for Zarisha.
He is ready and at the docks when the time comes to leave, though. Given his background and his density, sailing is an uncomfortable prospect for him and he stays away from the edge of both vessels as much as possible. Each lurch and creek of the boats makes him jump and look around for trouble.
It is with a great deal of relief that he steps off the boat as it comes ashore (and the only reason he does not try to get off even earlier is because he doesn't want to leap off into water over his head.)
"Well met Trajet," he says though he gives only a nod to the dwarf, knowing that is likely as much talking as the man wants to do.
The bear is cute, but probably more dangerous than it looks so he does not do anything foolish like try to pet it or pick it up.
He follows their guides into the forest but at the first opportunity, when they take a break, he pauses and performs the ritual that calls Zarisha out of his consciousness, manifesting her as an Ectoplasmic entity.
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A woman with what would normally be an olive complexion and lovely Quadiran features slowly forms near Bielsi. She is exceedingly pale, skin, hair and clothes as though all the color has been washed out of her leaving only muted shades of gray. Her loose clothing covers her neck to ankles but she still appears painfully thin, starved to the point of death and beyond.
She has a perpetual expression that suggests that she has stared into the void hoping it would stare back and been cosmically disappointed.
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Ren spends as much of the trip as possible on the deck of the boat, smiling as he catches the direct sunlight and the reflection off the water. "Umberto, do you have enough to share? That is quite the miracle."
As they land Ren looks at the trees and the long shadows they cast, and frowns. "Good things never last long enough, oh well." Turning to see Zarisha Ren jumps; "Miss, I think you need more sun. It really does wonders for the mood."
Greeting the guides with the others Ren smiles at Firepaw. "Firepaw, that is a hero's name. I'm Fireblessed." Turning to Traget, "How did this mighty beast earn such a heroes title?"
While they travel Ren will also attempt to ply Trajey and Polgrin for tales of the land, and gossip on the druids, fey and other locals.
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Frostwind shares her knowledge with her travel companions.
Enjoying the wet element in its fullest the nimble sylph is always quick with a joke and quite often very snarky. But at it is best.
Upon arriving she laces her boots more tightely and bows gracefully before Trajet. "It is a honor. May the green smile on you! I hope you do not mind me saying that your ursine companion is magnificent. Truly magnificent. I heard they love honey, is that true?"
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Turning to see Zarisha Ren jumps; "Miss, I think you need more sun. It really does wonders for the mood."
Zarisha stares blankly for a moment. Then her expression turns to one of pity.
"Humor is the refuge of those who have not heard the punchline to the cosmic joke. Laughter is a waste as are all actions of the living," she intones.
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"To imbibe during a campaign for good isn't right. Let us wait until our success and we shall all drink our fill."
Ren shakes his head, "Suffer when you must, but don't deny yourself the little pleasures in life." as he accepts Umberto's wine is his water skin, the holy symbols of Vildeis are visible engraven on his hands in faded scars.
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"Indeed. And for many days and weeks before. I have made it my mission to help her pass on to her final reward. I hope to do so by showing her that we truly can make a difference in life and that our actions matter," Bielsi answers.
Though, in Zarisha's defense, he is not noticeably more perky with her out of his head than he was when she was sharing it.
He frowns. "Was the 'stony' reference meant to be a joke?"
After about 45 min of travel and mostly grunting answers back to you, and after rolling her eyes about a dozen times at the Pathfinders' prattling, Trajet sighs and finally turns to you all with a sneer, saying “Perhaps it would be best if you all just left the forest.”
Trajet's suggestion earns her a disapproving look from Polgrin, but the gnome does not elaborate further. Both Trajet and Polgrin are now quiet. After what seems to be an eternity along the wooded trail, you see a rain-fed stream rushing between the trees, running parallel to your trail and flowing back towards the Sellen River where you came from. The canopy above is thick enough to cast the area into green twilight and provide home to the dozens of birds chattering above. The path breaks away from the stream leading to a small clearing to the west that holds several weathered tombstones.
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Ren looks to his companions, thrown off by a hostile gnome. I've never met a mean gnome, what is going on here, I wonder of Trajet is bleaching?
Concerned by their silence and lack of answers the pathfinders are getting, Ren tries to double back towards a common ground "Respectful guides, how much further is it to the Druids?"
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Ren tries to keep their guides occupied while the team inspects the graves. "These graves are old. Do they belong to your people? While we are talking, we seem to have some tension between us. It's ok to tell me, I'm as uncomfortable with the situation as you. Until this week I've never seen a forest like this where the trees block the very sun. Is it difficult to have outsiders within your territory?"
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Yuukyou smiles and looks over at the graves.
It is a bad luck not to leave a offering to the dead and to pass them by. One moment please.
He turns down the path and pulls a ration out of his pack, breaking some of the hard tack bread, clearly intending to leave it at the foot of the graves as an offering.
Bielsi you see the same thing as Yuukyou.
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Bielsi joins Yuukyou next to the central grave. He speaks a few of the words of burial consecration he learned back in Osiria, though not the full rites of course. That would take hours for one thing and this person was not royalty as far as he knows.
He studies the tombstone and grave itself more closely as he does so, trying to get a sense of it's age.
[ooc]Bielsi has dwarven stonecunning, if that matters.[/dice]
Polgrin says, "She was my ancestor..."
After some pay their respects to Polgrin's ancestors, the group carries on, following the two guides and their bear friend.
As you round the bend, a massive old blackwood tree stands at the side of the trail. Sheets of moss cling to its bark, covering it entirely except for a jagged crack that suggests a mouth.
Trajet calls out to the tree, "O wise one, I ask you to pass judgement on these outsiders! may we have your permission to punish them at once! for they shame the Wildwood Lodge with their bribes and treat the sacred tree as a mere servant! their corruption knows no bound! countless druids have fallen in with these outsiders, serving as their lapdogs and enabling the depletion of this grand forest!"
The tree's mouth widen as if breathing in for the first time in days, then calmly replies to Trajet's tirade. "Little one. Be calm. Listen to nature. The outsiders are our guests. I will not, could not, give you this permission. I will not, could not, grant authorization. Nature does not strike back. It grows back, little one. The greenery will cover the last remnants of their civilization one day, and-"
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNO!! SHUT UP, OLD TREE! YOUR PLATITUDES SERVE NOTHING! I WILL TAKE CARE OF THESE VIOLATORS MYSELF IF NEED BE!"
Polgrin looks uneasy, torn between his fellow guide and respecting the old tree's wisdom... the bear yawns, or roars... you're not sure... he looks a bit upset and agitated as Trajet paces around angrily pointing at you all.
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Yuukyou raises an eyebrow and speaks softly.
Trajet, I understand you do not care much for outsiders. It is to be expected. However, may I remind you that the treaty still stands, and that includes your ability to ensure that the forest is not over logged or damaged? If someone has done so, then you should consider taking it up with the proper authorities.
He turns to the tree and bows deeply.
To compound your error in judgment with disrespect to this sacred one is a mistake I feel. How can you claim to hold wisdom greater than a tree itself? We merely come here for knowledge, for that is what we pathfinders do. We have no interest in logs, only the stories you might tell us about Alcasti, who once roamed these parts.