Avaritia Auri (Ilyrian Faction) [IC 1]

[Lord Of Mantas]

The Lord of Mantas Presents
A Pathfinder First Edition Adventure

‘The day had begun quietly, all the better to stand in contrast to the chaos that would break out afterward. The dog days were over, but even as Tethyria stood on the cusp of autumn, summer refused to go out without one last fight. Accordingly, it was swelteringly hot, even for the morning, and the streets were emptier than usual, both in Ealderstol, the capital of Ilyrland, and in Cathair, the capital of Kezir. Those who were out in the open truged along the cobblestones, their foreheads damp with sweat, and the air was sickly and humid. Then, the newsies rushed out into the streets, papers waving in their hands.

“Extra! Extra! Hot off the presses! Hidden catacombs discovered on the island of Nidus! Ancient tombs filled with undead and riches! Read all about it!”

The resulting stampedes would be talked about for years.

The papers sold out within minutes, and the presses kept cranking away well into the evening, and in the days following. It had been just under a hundred years since the tropical island of Nidus had been discovered, and in a series of unlikely coincidences, it had been colonized by both the nation of Ilyrland and the nation of Kezir at almost exactly the same time. Neither had wanted to give it up, for it was perfectly poised as a rest stop on the way to the New World. And so, after twenty years of fighting, a treaty had been signed. The island had been divided into two even halves, right along the mountain ridge which bisected it: Ilyrland laid claim to the north, and Kezir to the south. The end of this war had been the beginning of the end for the great age of adventurers (although it hadn’t officially ended until after the resolution of the Yarasan War), as society shifted over from slaying dragons to growing tropical fruits, mining gold and silver, and exploiting those who lacked modern weaponry and similar notions of property rights.

After several decades of the merchants growing fatter and fatter, nostalgia for the good old days growing and growing, and with the popularity of chivalric novels and tales from days of yore at their height, it was no surprise that the next ships out to Nidus should be filled to the brim. Now carrying more than simply the usual provisions and cargo to each of the island’s main port towns, each was now filled to the brim with adventurers and sellswords of all kinds, each eager to exploit the newfound riches of the island. And in yet another cosmic coincidence, on those first ships to Nidus, there were ten souls, each of whom had, through sheer coincidence, already managed to book passage before the news broke, or who had been among the first to book passage right as the news struck. It is these ten souls who we now follow. Will they find the rewards they seek? Or will they succumb to this pursuit of plunder, this obsession with oubliettes, this…

AVARITIA AURI

It was the 30^th day of September, the year 1602 AA. The frigate HMS Kingfisher cut through the waves, its sails open as the strong western wind blew it straight toward the island. As the morning sun crested the horizon, the gold and amber rays slowly spread across the water, as if the weather itself were an omen of what its passengers sought. A of seagulls could be seen in the air, a sure sign of land – and indeed, soon enough, a cry came from the crow’s nest.

“Land ho!”

Immediately, the deck, which had been previously occupied mostly by the sailors, began to fill with the passengers. It had been a tight fit for everyone aboard, but, thanks to Ilyrian efficiency, not a single drop of space had been wasted. Every cot, every room had been occupied; even the larger suites had seen some people sharing. And that was without getting into the rumors that somehow, someway, a stowaway had managed to stay hidden the whole way here. Bites of food taken here and there, hurried scurrying within the depths of the bilge.

But all of these things were the furthest from the minds of the passengers, as everyone crowded onto the deck. Peeking over the horizon, the travelers gazed in awe as Newharbor, the largest Ilyrian town on Nidus and their destination, grew closer and closer. A school of tropical fish briefly crested above the surf, followed soon after by a flock of macaws – a flock that was soon broken up as two strange tiny creatures, almost a cross between a bird and a reptile, with long tails ending in diamond-shaped fins. darted into the flock, nipping at the parrots with beaks filled with needle-like teeth.

Spoiler: The Pterosaurs

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Spoiler: The Girl With No Name, Oliver, and Boza

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You recognize the tiny creatures as Rhamphorhynchi, small flying creatures of the pterosaur family. They are exceptionally nimble little flyers, capable of dodging attacks that would catch lesser flyers off-guard, and are sometimes kept as familiars by wizards who have passed through Nidus or the New World colonies.

The town itself, as with everything built by Ilyrland, was neatly organized and laid out, a fact immediately apparent from far away. Impeccably polished stone walls and box-like buildings surrounded the port, most of the buildings perfectly level, with the exception of the spires of a few temples, as well as what was almost certainly the Iudexian Legion’s primary bastion, smack in the middle of the town.

A few cheers erupted, and even the shouting of the helmsmen and captain to make way for the crew could not suppress the excited murmurs. Many began to offer prayers of thanks to Iudexus. A few brave souls appeared to begin a murmur of thanks to Aculea, but these were exceptionally brief, and ended almost as soon as they began, most not daring to carry on long enough for anyone to determine who exactly had made them.

Finally, shortly after around 8:00 in the morning, the Kingfisher pulled into the dock, and with heaving and hoing aplenty, the crew brought the boat in and lowered the gangplank. Immediately, a group of guards from the local Legion stepped forward and quickly set up a booth. As they did so, from behind them, a slim, sharply dressed man with a tightly cropped brown mustache stepped forward, and, clearing his throat, addressed the crowd.

“Hear ye, hear ye all! I am Ernest Fairfax, assistant to His Grace Duke Lachlan of North Nidus – and to all of you, a warm welcome. I am sure that all of you are tired from the journey here, but before all of you disembark, I have been instructed by His Grace to inform you all of something extremely important. Now, I am sure all of you have heard the rumors regarding appearing and disappearing catacombs on the island–”

Loud cheers erupted, and the guards stamped their halberds.

“Quiet, good people, please, quiet! Now, His Grace wishes to remind you all that regardless of what may or may not be happening, we are all still citizens of the glorious Empire of Ilyrland, and that we are all expected to comport ourselves accordingly. To that end, he will giving a public address at 10:00 this morning in the town square, in order to address some issues on this subject. It is strongly advised that as many of you attend as possible. Now, if all of you would be so kind as to form an orderly line down the gangplank, these fine men will take care of getting you all processed so that you may go about your day.”

With that, Fairfax turned on his heel, and two of the guards escorted him as he began to make his way back into town. The first down the gangplank was a middle-aged man of clearly noble origin; his clothing was rich, his weaponry gilded, and his head and neck soaked with sweat. Whoever had outfitted him for the journey to Nidus, it seemed, had clearly not advised him against wearing woolen clothing. Afterwards, several men and women of obviously poorer means, their weapons and equipment clearly much more ramshackle. One after another, each passenger was processed, with the guards turning to each and inquiring:

“Name and purpose of visit?”

Spoiler: The Girl With No Name, and anyone else who wants to leave the ship without being seen

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As you look around for a way off the boat without having to deal with the guards, you notice a couple of pertinent issues. The largest congregation of guards appears to be at the bottom of the gangplank; while there are a few guards patrolling the docks, none of them appear to be paying much attention to the ship. Additionally, as the crew begins to unload the cargo, you note that some of the boxes and barrels look a bit large - enough that you might be able to fit inside, if you were careful and quick about it.

Spoiler: OOC

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Take a moment to introduce your characters. In-character conversation among those working as a team is encouraged, as is musing on your accommodations during the trip or your hopes for the future. And if you'd like to try and get off the ship in some way without going through the guards/having to bother with the gate tax, now is the time to start considering such an action.

[Tychris1]

The trip had been arduous. Or maybe it was too easy. Life was never a simple affair really, you had to take things in perspective, and in proper perspective living like a rat on a boat scurrying and taking what food you could stowing away whenever the light was too bright was a hell of a lot better than being drawn and quartered or hung from a noose. She rolled her shoulders inside the cramped corner she'd taken as her own for many a day tossing and turning on tumultuous waters. It was starting to bruise. It helped her keep track of time without proper light half the time. She'd pluck along her scars, fingers gently tracing along her shoulder and ribs where the divine had imprinted itself on her, and felt herself tugging in and out of her dreams.

Her eyes opened. Hands moving of their own will, her fingers wrapped tight around a rat, and she felt it squirm in her grasp. Poor thing. It was a kindred spirit to her stuck in such circumstances. Her thumb snapped its neck.

It tasted pretty good.

"Oi, oi. Boza. Bozaaaaa. Boza," She'd whisper in the dark, eyes squinting at the wooden ceiling overhead "I spy with my little eye, something that starts with... W." She grinned and tossed her mane of vibrant unkempt orange hair before giggling and waiting for his answer.
”Wood. It was f*cking wood 5 minutes ago. It will be ****ing wood 5 minutes from now.” The half orc exasperatedly grunted in the darkness
”Oi,” she snorted “Actually it was Wanker.”
”F*CK. I WILL SINK THIS GOD DAMN BOAT.” He paused for a moment, giving the offhand joking threat consideration ”I could make us swim proper, y’know.”
”Not everyone on this boat deserves to die.”
”I don’t follow.”
”Well some of the rats are smart enough to not be down here with us.”
”Rats swim just fine.”
“Roight, roight, sink the boat.”

So it went for the long nights, her games of 99 knotted ropes on the wall or macabre puppet theater only briefly broken by desultory bouts of scheming, and a perspicuity to her voice that was heavy as the grave "We're going to go back home. This is just the beginning, you know that right? Thems thinks they're safe in their fancy castles and big houses but out here their noses are too upturned to see the house burnin' round them and the ground falling apart. They say Nidus gots the opp-or-too-nay-tee for gold and glory but that's just the tip. Change's in the air, folks just see it in physical bits but its in the heart, and those pompous fat lords gonna choke on their gold."

On the day of landfall she sulked out of her hideaway towards the jam-packed surface. As it turned out sinking a boat was really hard and she idly played with the nearly 3 pounds of rusted nails she and Boza had pried from down below now kept in her rucksack. She stopped just shy of the actual deck, tuning her dark wooden banjo in the dim light of the staircase, staring out towards the heavens above as carnivorous needle mouthed monsters chased after those flying winged rats, and a cracked smile crept across her face. She looked to her partner in crime, scrunching her face up in the process, and puffing her rosy cheeks as she looked his massive subtle as a flying green anvil half blood frame over. "Lads gonna see you from a mile away. No cover a'night to help either soooooo.... We's gonna have to sell some poisoned apples, ya? Me I'm just some down on her luck merchant and you's be my mute hands. Nothing too fancy." She began to steadily strum, humming a tune that began to develop lyrics as her head bobbed in keeping with the rocking of the boat, and passing the time serenading any passenger curious enough or acute enough to hear her mellow haunting voice.

"Oh, I got a heart full of hatred
For me there sure ain't no cure
I wake up and I'm running
I don't know what I'm running for

Oh, I got a head full of worry
Why that is, I've never known
I can go back where I came from
But I ain't ever going home

All this talking does not hold the answers to this life
All you get is a moment's rest from what haunts you deep inside
Is that good enough tonight, is that good enough tonight

Oh, I got eyes full of fire, they can burn off the rain
But I gotta swim to the bottom just to keep from bursting into flame
Oh, that bottle does not hold the answers to this life
All you get is a moment's rest from what haunts you deep inside
Is that good enough tonight, hope that's good enough tonight

Oh, I got a heart full of hatred
For me there sure ain't no cure
I wake up and I'm running
I don't know what I'm running for."

Spoiler: Rolls

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Taking 10 for a 15 on Perform.

[Nefarion Xid]

"Sir Oliver Ainsley, Order of the Gryphon, Knight Errant."

That last part was usually sufficed for purpose as well. In this age, there weren't a lot of people left given to the explicit mission of traipsing about at the edges of the map for no other reason than to push back the darkness. Knights of this order were unburdened by complicated motives. In civilized lands, their appearance provoked some anxieties about precisely what foul thing was lurking about without your notice, but when the word "undead" was on the lips of the town crier, there was no great mystery about the man with the gryphon emblazoned on his shield.

Oliver was a young man who looked as if he was lonely for no good reason. Though the lad himself was in a sorry state (having shaved with a magic sword and washed with seawater) his gear at least was immaculate. The gleaming plate armor was standard issue for a full member of the order and unmistakable in its origin with whorled devices on the pauldrons indicating wings. His cape was a dusky blue with a black band at the bottom, and he wore a mantle of white and grey down feathers, all painstakingly collected after falling out naturally from the breast of a celestial gryphon. His gryphon. The shield stood even among the other magic items -- brilliant mithral with a darker silver gryphon rampant in meticulous detail. A piece of blue glass was set as the eye. All of it glowed with a soft white light, noticeable even in the morning sun.

He had a fine and sturdy build, though perhaps thin at the waist and neck. Tall, particularly in his riding boots. His normally delicate skin was bronzed after a month of silent contemplation on the deck. His hair was the color of tilled earth and looked nearly as messy, hanging loose everywhere except the rough half that had been captured in a ponytail, caked with salt and bleached by the sun. He had green eyes -- sad or lost in thought despite an otherwise pleasant countenance. It was no fault of his own. They were just a touch too large for his narrow face and inclined in just such a way that implied melancholy. They were not at all unattractive. To the contrary, many people felt the urge to hug him and make everything better.

Among his papers was verification that, yes, he was the third son of one Lord Ainsley. Another, a writ of the master of his order, affirmed he was a full fledged knight and in good standing. That bore a stamp with the royal sign on it. A letter from Sir Falko Hale said little but, "Be well, my friend. Remember to prepare Endure Elements. I know the heat doesn't agree with your constitution. And if you kill a dragon, save a big tooth for me." A fourth item, sealed with wax, was addressed to some well known proprietor of a mining operation on the island

He presented his qualifications in a light pine box and said nothing further.

(Endure Elements prepared and cast daily)

[Jade_Tarem]

Melody had not, in fact, heard the rumors. She had not heard anything in a long time, nor could she hear the speech the man was making at the bottom of the gangplank. With the oracle's short stature, she only knew it was a speech because the crowd around her suddenly stopped, then, a few moments later, all threw their hands in the air, terribly excited about something. Perhaps there was cake.

Imagine her disappointment upon reaching the plank at last, only to learn that there was no cake, only bureaucracy.

Her dress was unforgettable. Long-tailed entertainer's coat, slacks, pointed high boots, cuffs and links, and a wide-brimmed hat more befitting an aged wizard. She was disconcertingly cute but obviously changeling, and not looking forward to the inevitable one-sided conversation that always happened when she tapped one ear and shook her head, as she did now after stumbling gracelessly down the ramp. [I can't hear.]

[zabbarot]

The ride had been long with only his companions knack for aggravating him to break up the monotony of being tossed around in the belly of a ship. If you could even consider the bilge the belly, it was more like the colon really; just a filthy stinking pit. Boza was more than a little disappointed that the hour of prying nails had been too little too late to sink the boat he had grown to hate, but he was happy to finally get fresh air and hopefully find a river to wash the scent of salt water and piss out of his clothes. At least it was just his travel clothes. He had kept his good clothes, boots, armor, weapons, and tools wrapped up tight in his haversack.

"Lads gonna see you from a mile away. No cover a'night to help either soooooo.... We's gonna have to sell some poisoned apples, ya? Me I'm just some down on her luck merchant and you's be my mute hands. Nothing too fancy."

Boza never even had a chance to get a word in before the girl wandered off with that noisy, five string pan she called an instrument. "Fine... Just another dumb brute." He pantomimed locking his mouth shut and fell in behind her.

[Tychris1]

The girl was a sight indeed. Tall, scarred, and ashen she was an animate dryad of raw subtle muscle and callouses. Her hands were a mess, blackened by her time picking at dirty spots in gods know where, and fingernails that seemed to diverge wildly between long talons, carefully tended to, or anxiously worn down to the flesh and broken. A leather gorget was carefully tied around her neck, one part choker fashion accessory, and one part for practical use. She wore a baggy free flowing simple yellow tunic, part of it seemed to have been ripped at one point, and was now merely allowed to sag playfully off of her shoulder. A mane of wild hair like leaves in autumn rolled down her neck and well past her shoulders to her chest. A few braids could be seen sporadically throughout it but she made no real attempt at a coordinated tac for it. An axe was slung to her back, carefully bound and obscured with a variety of ropes that looped over her exposed shoulder and acted as a makeshift holster. A sword swung at her hip, tinking in tune with the thudding of her worn dark brown leather boots, and swinging in synch with her mottled white pants. Her face was almost statuesque, a strong jaw accented with a coy soft chin at the tip, tall thin nose, and high cheekbones that were obscured partially by her now smudged mascara. Those pools of black muddied substances on her face sucked onlookers to her hazel eyes, bright and attentive yet the longer one stared the glossier and less focused they appeared. Of course she’d never go anywhere without a little bit of protection, the silent rub of mithral chain beneath her clothing assured her of that, and she continuously scanned the points of order in the chaos to see where best to slide in with Boza. The Girl took a wide but not exposing berth from the beaten path, presenting herself and her associate to a mostly isolated guard, and brandishing her paperwork in the process.

”Roight, roight, m’names Alice Phelns and this is m’silent guard Filango Soursnouts. Here to sell wares and set up shop.” She smiled cheekily and was nearly bouncing out of her skin as the balls of her feet shifted in place.

Spoiler: Bluff!

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Study the Guard and then Bluff Him:(1d20+11)[18]

[Lord Of Mantas]

Oliver
The guards straightened up as Oliver descended the gangplank, and the guard in charge of processing his papers fired off a salute before quickly checking over his ID and writ.

"Everything seems to be in order, sir. Right this way, please, and sorry to keep you waiting." He also produced a folded-up piece of paper, which, upon close inspection, appeared to be a map of the town. "If you're wanting lodgings, I'm sure the local Order would be willing to take you in. Or if for whatever reason that's not your cup of tea, there's the Gilded Kraken. Just go four blocks south along the main road, and you’ll find it about two blocks north of the main Town Square. Word of advice, avoid the Portly Cook; nothing but lowlifes and bums in that place."

Spoiler: The Map, including directions to where to go to use your Letter of Introduction

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The map is fairly detailed, and as you look it over, you notice the following locations of interest as standing out without having to look particularly hard:
* The Main Harbor, where you are currently located.
* The Town Square, which is bordered by the Headquarters of the Iudexian Legion to the north and the Newharbor Cathedral of Iudexus to the south.
* The Ducal Mansion, which appears to be smack dab in the middle of the more luxurious Eastern end of town.
* The Gilded Kraken Inn and Tavern, located exactly where the guard indicated.
* The Temples of Vaktar and Agrypha (from what you can tell, the two appear to face each other on opposite sides of the street).
* Shrines to both Ozaic (inside of town), and, just outside of town to the south, the Shrine of Aratus.
* Also nearer the south end of town, the Headquarters of the North Nidus Branch of the Ilyrian Miner's Guild. It takes only a split second to deduce that this is where you would need to go to follow up on the Letter of Introduction you possess, which, assuming your instructions were correct, should get you a meeting with its head, Peter Roake, who you were told had some business he could use your help with.
* A smaller Dock on the River, which appears to house a ferry going south down the river to Riverport
* The Portly Cook Arms, on the south end of town.
* Aegis & Co. Bank, on the west end of town.
* The Frederick III Ampitheatre.
* Oscar’s Outfitters and Smithy, which appears to be a combination weapons/armor shop and general store.

Melody
The guard in charge of doing the processing blinked somewhat dumbfoundedly, then started to move his mouth in an exaggerated and slowed-down manner. Based on the disturbance of the air, it was apparent that his solution for trying to communicate with the deaf consisted of ‘slow and loud’. Thankfully, another guard with the markings of a lieutenant quickly shoved him aside, his mouth moving in such a way as to suggest that he was heavily scolding the first guard. Fumbling in his belt pouch, the lieutenant produced a chalkboard and quickly scribbled something down.

“Your name and the purpose of your visit, please.”

Spoiler: OOC

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If you simply wish to hand over your ID, simply tell me and I will edit this post accordingly.

The Girl With No Name, Boza
The guard checking the pair through narrowed his eyes at TGWNN's words. He looked her up and down very closely, then at her identification papers. He frowned briefly at them before looking back to her.

"Bit mussed up for a merchant, aren't we? What are you selling?"

Spoiler: Sense Motive

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The two of you get the feeling that he is suspicious of you; however, given how he hasn't outright tried to clap irons on you, he doesn't appear to have realized your IDs are fake. Further bluffing may prove useful.

[Jade_Tarem]

Melody just tracked the action back and forth, the motion of her head exaggerated by the hat - indeed, that was why she wore it. When the guard's chalkboard came out, however, so did hers - a beautiful piece of carved and polished darkwood framing the slate. The oracle wasted no time in responding to the guard's prompt, flipping the board around and holding it at arm's length once she'd finished writing.

Name: Melody
Purpose: $$$

[Tychris1]

Briefly distracted by a guard shouting out letters, The Girl realigned her mental marbles to the present inquiring guard and batted her eyelashes pleasantly "Only the finest ropes and travel supplies this side of the island a'course. Heard this island had some propah good vines for it. Love, I supply the baser folks y'see and my clientele don't need some fancy dressed lady in a poofy skirt to tell them their tents will be fit or their ropes strong. I personally test all of me supplies meself that I do yes indeed and if it don't work I don't sell it. Bidness went a little down on the mainland, y'can prolly see from all me inventory injuries, and here we are to start anew. Fresh fits 'n all that. Right then, we off then?" She folded her arms and exuded from every pore the swagger of annoyed privilege being checked.

Spoiler: OOC

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Bluff round 2?:(1d20+11)[16]

The Girl is going to try and keep an eye out/follow after whoever was causing the uptick in guard annoyance and aggravation. Eyes peeled for whatever potentially fellow kindred nameless creature was flagrantly ****-stirring and in need of help, then move in to interject.

[Nefarion Xid]

Oliver
Docks

"Ah. The Gilded Kraken it is then. A cup of tea does sound nice. Thank you." Oliver called the man by his rank, left a interrogative pause for his name, then repeated his thanks and the name with a sincere, but wan, smile.

"I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to lend me your map? I'm rather used to a quiet countryside. Afraid I get a bit disoriented in a thrumming city." The port was no metropolis, but Oliver really was used to silent treks between villages with fifty residents and two surnames. He was also quite dumb in a way and had already forgotten how many blocks in what direction anything was.

(1d20+15)[18] Diplomacy check

With a destination chosen, Oliver clapped his gauntlet on the mithral shield by way of a salute to the collected guardsmen, and made his way into town.

In order of proximity, he aims to:

1. Aegis & Co. - Open an account and deposit 200 gp.
2. Temple of Agrypha - Introductions to the high cleric. Pray and gives thanks for safe travels.
3. Gilded Kraken - Meets with the proprietor if available and asks about renting a room for the foreseeable future. He uses his charm to see if he can get comped meals and hot baths if he pays for a month in advance -- as he does not anticipate being in town much, he promises these will be infrequent.

Then:

4. Miner's Guild - Meet with Peter Roakes

[Lord Of Mantas]

Oliver

"O-of course you may have the map, sir! These are complimentary to those entering here. When we heard news of the impending rush, one of the local printers was willing to negotiate a bulk order for these pamphlets. It wouldn't do to have a bunch of people randomly hunting around town trying to find the pub on top of everything else, the Duke sai-"

The guard stopped talking and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I'm rambilng." The guard saluted. "Anyway, enjoy your stay, sir."

Having cleared the docks, Oliver then strolled onto the mainland, the smell of salt and sea air gradually fading as he made his way into the heart of the town. Looking over the map, he outlined four different places he needed to visit before anything else.

***

"Always a pleasure to do business with one from the Order, sir."

The first stop on Oliver's list of appointments was to Aegis & Co., the largest bank in Newharbor, to open an account and deposit some money. The banker in front of him was a quite youthful-looking lad of no more than perhaps 20, an aesthetic only further reinforced by the rather large amount of freckles on his face. Shuffling some papers, he pushed them over to the paladin, indicating various lines.

"And if you'll just sign here and there, that will take care of the paperwork."

Once everything had been completed, the banker reached below his desk. Opening a drawer, he picked something up and placed it proudly on the desk.

"And since you've deposited at least 100 gold crowns with us today, sir, you qualify for our gift of a free waffle iron!"

***

The next stop was to the Temple of Agrypha, both to introduce himself to the local Knight-Commander and to give proper thanks to Agrypha.

Initially, Oliver was greeted at the door by a junior knight, who, again, based on his relative youth, Oliver guessed must have only recently been promoted past squire. He was quickly ushered into the main sanctuary, where the Knight-Commander could be seen at the altar, lighting some incense for morning prayers. She was a woman just entering middle age, with the smallest flecks of white appearing in her shortly-cut hair. As the junior knight presented Oliver, she turned around and greeted the two with a salute.

"It is good to meet you, Sir Ainsley. Sir Falko informed us that you would be coming. Knight-Commander Isolda Leanore, at your service." She turned back to the altar and motioned for Oliver to approach. "And in truth, it is no small bit of fortune that you have. Doubtless you already know this, but life on Nidus is not one for the faint of heart. Even before the catacombs began to appear, there was the wildlife to contend with, normal, primitive, and magically enhanced. Venturing out into the jungle is not a matter for the unprepared, or for those lacking wisdom. A word of advice: If you should hear rustling from the bushes, never dismiss it as your imagination. The Legion has lost more than a few of its men to velociraptor and deinonychus attacks."

She finished lighting the incense.

"Of course, now that the catacombs have appeared, there are further horrors to contend with. Apart from treasure, they are filled with undead, mostly in the form of mummies that appear to be formed from animals and the... older inhabitants of the island. Mainly they have stayed in the vicinity of these catacombs, but a few of them have wandered away, and have made attempts on patrols or people traveling between Riverport and Northgate. And because the locations of the catacombs shift every four to seven days, by the time we've contained one, another simply pops up elsewhere after the old ones sink back into the ground. The Duke is worried about what will happen if one of them appears near Newharbor, and quite frankly, I don't blame him."

Isolda turned and faced Oliver directly again.

"The man in charge of the Legion here, Colonel Harland, is... rather prideful, and insistent on dealing with the problem himself. It took a lot of arguing for our order to be permitted to assist with this issue, and he has pushed the Duke to limit the interference of outsiders. At his speech later today, the Duke will reveal that anyone wishing to venture forth and try their luck at the catacombs must obtain a license, and that the Treasure Tax has been increased from 15% up to 20% of a take. Anyone caught in the vicinity of the catacombs or with treasure from them without a license will be jailed."

Reaching into her pocket, Knight-Commander Isolda produced a sealed scroll and handed it to Oliver.

"This writ will exempt you from the license and the tax. Given your status as a Knight-Errant, I do not wish to have to give you a direct order, but I would make this request: As long as you are here, please do what you can to try and get to the bottom of this. Whatever is behind these catacombs can only be the beginning, and I fear that the situation here will get worse before it gets better."

Once their conversation was finished, the Knight-Commander bid Oliver good day and left him to his prayers.

***

The Gilded Kraken was quite easy to spot, given the size of its sign. In keeping with its name, it was emblazoned with a giant gold-colored kraken rising from the waves, its tentacles coiled around two ships, with the name written below in silver. A chalk sign-board outside advertised a 5 sp Sunday Breakfast Special (baked beans, bacon, sausages, eggs, roast tomatoes, fried black pudding, and fried potatoes with coffee), and it appeared that there were several takers; even from outside the volume coming from through the door made it easy to see that the place was bustling.

The inside of the inn was all polished brass and oak, and stuffed to the gills. The heavenly scent of bacon, coffee, and porter wafted through the air. The proprietor, a rather portly dwarf with a tightly-braided graying beard, was only happy to assist with Oliver's inquiry.

"As it happens, Sir Paladin, you are in luck. We are currently running a special on our private rooms: For 10 gold, you may reserve one for a month, and use of the bath-house and two meals a day of one gold or less come free."

***

Finally, after getting everything set up, Oliver's final destination was at the offices of the Miner's Guild. The building was a rather spartan one, with hardly a thought for furnishings or adornment. Even as the secretary ushered him through into the office of Peter Roake, the head of the guild, Oliver could see that the biggest luxury the office had was his desk, a rather solidly-built mahogany number. Roake himself was a man approaching the upper bounds of middle age, a small gut hanging out of a pair of once-fine but now dirtied suspenders. A pipe hang halfway out of his mouth as he shook Oliver's hand.

"So, you're Sir Ainsley! It is good to meet you, my dear fellow." Taking the letter of introduction from Oliver, Roake red it through, nodding sagely as his eyes traced down the page, before setting it aside and motioning the paladin toward a seat in front of the desk.

"Yes, yes, you'll do perfectly. So, as it happens, my good Sir, there is a bit of a problem that we have - a problem that requires the aid of a man with some skill in dealing with unpleasant nasties."

Roake detached a small hip flask from his belt and sipped at it.

"As you may or may not be aware, Nidus has some rather sizeable deposits of iron, and, to a lesser extent, silver. Or, should I say, had. Truth be told, after so many decades, we have been approaching the end of the largest veins, and had been making efforts to go deeper, see if we could uncover any more deposits. Unfortunately, there has been a... bit of a snag, truth be told."

"In one of the newer branches, we struck a natural cavern. Initially, things were looking promising. We found some tourmaline, along with a sizable kimberlite vein. However, before we could look much beyond that first cavern, my men were attacked."

"Now, the thing you have to understand is, where there are mines, occasionally you're going to run into some monsters. Usually it's just an ooze or two - weak ones, nothing my boys can't handle. But in that cavern... some of them reported a foul bejeweled blob that attacked their very minds; others a crystal beast that attacked them with a spray of shards. Around eight of them were injured, and at least four didn't make it back."

The guild head took a drag from his flask, then wiped his mouth before continuing.

"The Legion is of no help," he spat. "But as it happened, our mutual friend informed me that you might be able to. If you can get down into the mines, and clear out whatever's down there, and make sure there aren't any more nasty surprises, I'll make sure you're properly compensated."

Spoiler: Sense Motive

Show

You sense that something is off with how Roake mentioned that the Legion is of no help, as if he's not telling the whole story.

Melody

The lieutenant observed Melody's board, then nodded and began scribbling again. He handed over a folded piece of paper to Melody, which, upon further inspection, turned out to be a map of the town.

"Map is complimentary.
Best lodging is at Gilded Kraken.
Portly Cook is cheap, but hangout for criminals. Avoid."

Wiping off his board, he continued to write, then showed her again.

"You are clear to enter town.
I assume you're here for the catacombs.
Duke Lachlan will be giving an address Re: them in 2 hours.
Attendance strongly encouraged."

The lieutenant looked at what he wrote again, then scratched his chin, before scribbling one last time.

"If you can use sign language, seek Frederick Nibley.
Old friend of mine. Usually has breakfast at the Gilded Kraken.
Tell him Lt. Falkor sent you and he'll be willing to translate."

The Girl With No Name and Boza

The guard looked back and forth between TGWNN and Boza, considering them for a while. His face had not completely lost its look of suspicion, but some doubt had begun to appear.

"Timmons!" A nearby guard in lieutenant's decorations snapped at him. "Get a move on. There's tens more to process and we can't dawdle all day."

Wordlessly, the guard handed over a folded piece of paper to the pair, which, upon further inspection, turned out to be a map of the town. He then gestured to his eyes and pointed back at them before shooing them away. "Next!"

Spoiler: TGWNN and Boza

Show

Having now made it to shore and with a map in your possession, you recognize the Dock by the River as where you were told to go to get in contact with the People's Front for a Free Ilyrland. From what you recall, you were instructed to visit a fried dough cart next to the ferry entrance known as 'Lighter than Air', and use the following counterphrase.

"I would like the 2 silver special, but with pickled radish on top."

"Do you want jam with that as well?"

"No, but my uncle loves cocoa nibs."

Spoiler: The Map

Show

The map is fairly detailed, and as you look it over, you notice the following locations of interest as standing out without having to look particularly hard:* The Main Harbor, where you are currently located.
* The Town Square, which is bordered by the Headquarters of the Iudexian Legion to the north and the Newharbor Cathedral of Iudexus to the south.
* The Ducal Mansion, which appears to be smack dab in the middle of the more luxurious Eastern end of town.
* The Gilded Kraken Inn and Tavern, located exactly where the guard indicated.
* The Temples of Vaktar and Agrypha (from what you can tell, the two appear to face each other on opposite sides of the street).
* Shrines to both Ozaic (inside of town), and, just outside of town to the south, the Shrine of Aratus.
* Also nearer the south end of town, the Headquarters of the North Nidus Branch of the Ilyrian Miner's Guild.
* A smaller Dock on the River, which appears to house a ferry going south down the river to Riverport.
* The Portly Cook Arms, on the south end of town.
* Aegis & Co. Bank, on the west end of town. It appears to be the largest Bank in town.
* The Frederick III Ampitheatre.
* Oscar’s Outfitters and Smithy, which appears to be a combination weapons/armor shop and general store.

[Tychris1]

Smiling with gritted teeth at the guard The Girl quickly pulled down her eyelid and stuck out her tongue as the ponce turned his head towards his superior. Quickly stepping away from the mess of bureaucracy, "Alice" began to look the map over, and quickly had it flipped right side up by Boza. "Thanks, Luv," She chirped before squinting her eyes, holding it too close to her face for him to see, and then pulling it away and handing it to him "Roight got it all in me noggin now. Don't need no bloody map to tell me what's what. But 'fore we go and talk to me dear papa down by the way lets take a sec and see the view yeah? Been stuck in a hole for a month we should see all who's been traveling with us. Maybe we can poach some folk who don't know nuttin cept what their mams tell'em." She took a moment to sit down on a nearby rock, looping out a bit of dark crimson rope, and tying it in different ways absentmindedly while watching the steady stream of folks being processed.

[Jade_Tarem]

The oracle cleared her own chalkboard, scribbling in a checkmark and the word Thanks. Then she proceeded into town, wandering to get a good view of the layout and to find the town's message board. Most towns had one and the Duke would almost certainly have a summary of his address posted there after or possibly even before his speech. Important people always loved having official documents sent out with their names and seals on them.

Melody had every intention of attending the speech anyway, but mostly to scope out the competition. Raising the brim of her hat, she gave the sun a tiny frown, hoping the hot season wouldn't last too long. Ilyrland was much colder than this, and the changeling had gotten used to it.

Growing bored, Melody proceeded to the Gilded whatever and looked for the guy in lieutenant stripes. Upon finding him, she scratched a new message on her chalkboard, then walked up to the table and held it out at arm's length again.

What is sign language?

[zabbarot]

Boza accepted the map unceremoniously and folded it up to slip into his pack after spotting a river. "Look, sweet, as beauteous as that smile o' yours may be, ye smell like rotten fish and sewage. We ain't pickin' up anyone until we get a bath. There's a river right up this way, see if you can scrounge us up some soap. Ain't got time to make it."

Boza wore a simple outfit, like you might see on any artisan, but it did little to disguise his hulking form and battle-scarred arms. He could hardly blame the guards for doubting he was just a merchant. He took some pride in it even. He still wanted to pluck the mans eyes out for staring at him too long. "We'll see who's starin' at whom," he muttered to himself.

[Nefarion Xid]

"But as it happened, our mutual friend informed me that you might be able to. If you can get down into the mines, and clear out whatever's down there, and make sure there aren't any more nasty surprises, I'll make sure you're properly compensated."

"I believe adventurers inclined to a more mercenary disposition prefer to put a numerical value on proper compensation before going to the task. I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle, but my abilities are better suited for the undead. The creatures that attacked your men, they aren't malevolent. Dangerous, yes, but likely lacking in any motivation beyond protecting what they think is their home. Fortunately for your business, the catacombs aren't an immediate threat to anyone, so I suppose I have some time in my schedule for smashing your crystal beasties."

People were being killed. That was a problem, but one that could also be solved by shuttering portions of the mine and leaving the agitated earth elementals alone. Still, Oliver needed money, same as anybody, and he probably had it in him to clear out half the mine before retiring to a hot bath and supper at the Kraken.

"I trust you have some magical light sources at your disposal. I could use a few of those in addition to proper compensation. Some rope as well. Some chalk. And two of your men to show me where you encountered the, uh, crystal spraying... things. As for the compensation itself, I could do with a small share of the company. What say to... two hundred crowns stock value per beastie? Plus incidental discovery: misplaced magical items, coins, that sort of thing."

[Tychris1]

Sniffing surreptitiously at her armpits The Girl wrinkled her nose in disgust and nodded her head. The Girl pulls her rope back up then over her shoulder, sparing a fleeting glance to the procession off the boat, and searches her mind for the routes and images of the map. She goes to Oscar's Smithy for some soap, badgering random passerby's for information as she does so, and returns to Boza by the river with a bowl full of the gray dungy material. Lobbing it to him like it were some form of explosive she carefully walked over to the river, eyeing every rock or piece of dirt she would step on along the way, and steadily began to strip once she was by its side. She knelt. Hand reaching down carefully to the water she recoiled at first. Clenching her eyes close she quickly began to scoop up bits of water and throw it onto herself before applying the soap and rubbing it harshly in. Her business complete she quickly dragged herself from the river and began to shake herself dry like a sopping dog.

"There I'm clean as a virgin now lets get to it yeah? See anyone with good scars while I was out?"

[zabbarot]

"A virgin rolled down a hill maybe." Boza washed quickly for his part, then put a bit of effort into cleaning his clothes. He was glad to know he had a fresh set waiting in his bag. Maybe he should just throw these out... He made a note to throw them out if they still stunk after drying, and moved on. He spent a moment brushing as much water off himself as he could manage then started getting dressed properly including his armor.

"I'll leave the tabard and hood in me bag for now. Don't want too much attention." His plate was blackened and well marked by past battles. The dings and scratches had mostly been buffed out, leaving rough patches where the black was worn thin and the metal nearly showed through. "So... hungry?"

[Tychris1]

"Aye, cart shouldn't be too far from here. Get some slop, slit a fop, and grab a mug a beer." She snickered at her impromptu ditty.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Oliver

Roake gave a visible sigh of relief as Oliver listed his demands.

"More than reasonable, given the circumstances."

Grabbing some paper, he began scribbling out a brief contract, then pushed it Oliver's way.

"Just for our mutual protection, you understand. Talk with Kent Trenton once you get to the mines; he'll get you your equipment. You may have a little more difficulty persuading some of the men to go down there with you, but I think there's a few ex-Legion who decided to trade in their swords for pickaxes. Trenton should be able to point you in their direction."

Spoiler: Contract

Show

Between

Peter Roake

And

Oliver Ainsley

***

It is hereby agreed that Oliver Ainsley shall descend into the South Newharbor Mines, and shall make all reasonable efforts to slay any and all monsters found within the cavern uncovered on September 28, and to recover the bodies of any fallen employees of the Ilyrian Miner's Guild, North Nidus Branch for proper burial. In exchange, he shall be given a sum of 200 gold crowns worth of company stock per monster slain, as shall be indicated by presentation of a corpse or trophy therefrom, and shall be allowed to keep any loose gems, coins, or magical artifacts obtained from said expedition such as did not previously belong directly to the Guild. He shall be provided with reasonable equipment so as to perform this task, including access to rope, an everburning torch, and chalk, as deemed necessary to complete said task.

Signed
X______
X______

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Contract lawyer I ain't.

Melody

Upon examining the map, Melody was able to determine that the town's message board was located in the Town Square, which was itself only two blocks over from The Gilded Kraken. The Town Square, as was the case with most Ilyrian buildings, was rather smooth and sterile. Large granite cobblestones were the order of the day, with a large marble statue of Iudexus and Aratus taking up the center of the square, gazing sternly and austerely over the people.

Of the buildings on the town square, the only one that showed any propensity for decoration was the Cathedral of Iudexus - while it too was almost entirely stone, it was carved with ornate gargoyles and depictions of myths from times of yore involving Iudexus. The message board was located toward the southeast border of the square, by the base of the steps to the cathedral.

Having located the message board, Melody then moved on to the Gilded Kraken. It was quite easy to spot, given the size of its sign. In keeping with its name, it was emblazoned with a giant gold-colored kraken rising from the waves, its tentacles coiled around two ships, with the name written below in silver. A chalk sign-board outside advertised a 5 sp Sunday Breakfast Special (baked beans, bacon, eggs, sausage, roast tomatoes, fried black pudding, and fried potatoes with coffee), and it appeared that there were several takers; even from outside the volume coming from through the door made it easy to see that the place was bustling.

The inside of the inn was all polished brass and oak, and stuffed to the gills. The heavenly scent of bacon, coffee, and porter wafted through the air, with hints of subtle spices and sweat. The proprietor, a rather portly dwarf with a tightly-braided graying beard, was only happy to point Melody in the direction of Frederick Nibley, a man well into middle age with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, dressed in an older legion uniform. Upon seeing Melody's inquiry, Frederick raised an eyebrow, then scribbled back a message.

"I am surprised that someone such as yourself has not heard of it.
It is a codified system of hand signals and signs that can substitute for spoken words.
This allows deaf or mute people to talk without having to resort to pantomime or a chalkboard."

He cleared the chalkboard and then continued to write.

"Did Falkor send you? He usually sends deaf people my way when they need help with official business."

The Girl With No Name and Boza

Having made it off of the boat, the first thing that TGWNN and Boza did was stop to observe those who had been traveling above them. Most of the people getting off the boat who were not civilians had the appearance of complete neophytes; standard issue weapons and armor, clothing ill-suited to the current climate, the kind of overly enthusiastic chatter that could only come from someone who has yet to confront life's tougher challenges - or, to put it another way, the kind of person whose worst fight to date might have been against a half-wounded dire rat. There were, however, a handful of groups who stood out:

• The first group of note was a half-orc and a human who, judging from his skin color, must have been of Austrahelian descent. The half-orc bore a rapier at his belt and was trying (and failing) to hide Aculea's symbol up his sleeve; the human was dressed in a chain shirt parted down the middle so as to reveal his rippling muscles and a pendant in the shape of a boar. A falcata hung at his belt.
• The second group looked slightly less hardy than the first, but not by much. It was a trio, consisting of an aasimar woman in cleric's garb, a bearded man in druid's garb with a large cat following behind him, and a halfling man in tight leathers with a pair of daggers at his belt.

With this done, TGWNN and Boza then departed the hustle, bustle, and salty sea air smell of the main port for the main part of town. Buying soap proved to be a very quick and easy endeavor, with the general store owner practically throwing it at them with a cry of "For the Gods' sake, just get out of here before you drive my customer's away!" Making their way through the streets, the two eventually arrived at the ferry port by the river. There were very few people there at that time of day, with the exception of a few people taking in the view of the river and the jungle - looking at the posted schedule, it seemed that the last ferry had left right at 8:00, and that there would not be another one departing until around 1:00. The "Lighter than Air" cart was almost right by the mooring for the fairy, hawking his wares.

"Funnel cake! Get your fried dough and funnel cake right here! Only 5 copper pieces each! Toppings are another 2 copper each!"

Bypassing the cart for the moment, TGWNN and Boza hopped off the pier and down the riverbank to a nearby grove of trees. With the dock as empty as it was, and the fried dough salesman looking the other way, and the cover provided by the plants, there were no witnesses as they discarded their clothing and washed away the reek of the bilge. Hopping back up onto the dock, they ambled on over.

"Top of the morning to you both! What can I get you?"

Spoiler: Menu

Show

Funnel Cake - 5 cp
Funnel Cake Toppings - 2 cp ea
- Cherry preserves
- Mango preserves
- Honey
- Powdered Sugar
Fried Dough - 5 cp
Fried Dough Toppings - 2 cp ea
- Cheese
- Garlic Butter
- Tomato Sauce

[Tychris1]

"Roight I'll have a Funnel Cake with Honey, one with Powde'd Sugah, some Fried Dough with the Red Sauce and Cheese, oh!" She leaned over the cart looking voraciously at the assorted options practically slobbering at the mouth before whipping her neck to stare the vendor down eye to eye "And I would like the 2 silver special, but with pickled radish on top." She waited for his retort before chirping "Nah, but me uncle loves cocoa nibs."

[Jade_Tarem]

The diminutive oracle looked up and nodded, then scribbled down the next reply, already thinking breakfast thoughts. They considered explaining that she wasn't all the way deaf, just unable to hear over the music, but that usually confused people.

Why are you surprised that deaf people don't hear about things?

Melody considered, then added more.

I want to learn sign language.

She started to flip the board again, then added another line.

Please?

[Nefarion Xid]

Oliver

Roake gave a visible sigh of relief as Oliver listed his demands.

"More than reasonable, given the circumstances."

Grabbing some paper, he began scribbling out a brief contract, then pushed it Oliver's way.

"Just for our mutual protection, you understand. Talk with Kent Trenton once you get to the mines; he'll get you your equipment. You may have a little more difficulty persuading some of the men to go down there with you, but I think there's a few ex-Legion who decided to trade in their swords for pickaxes. Trenton should be able to point you in their direction."

Spoiler: Contract

Show

Between

Peter Roake

And

Oliver Ainsley

***

It is hereby agreed that Oliver Ainsley shall descend into the South Newharbor Mines, and shall make all reasonable efforts to slay any and all monsters found within the cavern uncovered on September 28, and to recover the bodies of any fallen employees of the Ilyrian Miner's Guild, North Nidus Branch for proper burial. In exchange, he shall be given a sum of 200 gold crowns worth of company stock per monster slain, as shall be indicated by presentation of a corpse or trophy therefrom, and shall be allowed to keep any loose gems, coins, or magical artifacts obtained from said expedition such as did not previously belong directly to the Guild. He shall be provided with reasonable equipment so as to perform this task, including access to rope, an everburning torch, and chalk, as deemed necessary to complete said task.

Signed
X______
X______

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Contract lawyer I ain't.

"I've never signed a contract for killing things before," Oliver said, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "We're not often asked to sign contracts. It's bad business to screw a paladin and we don't lie, cheat, or steal. If I tell you that I killed three monsters, then you can rest assured it was exactly three monsters because the price of a good horse isn't worth divine bloody retribution."

The young man yawned as he rose from his chair, wishing to expedite the smiting and then retire to the inn to wash away the grime of a long sea voyage.

"So, good news and bad news and some more good news. Given your description, I think I've got a good idea of what the creature is. The good news is that I can't accept payment for what I'm about to do. This thing's a real monster. It's Evil. You can reward me, sure, and I'd appreciate it, but I can't act like a mercenary when there's an aberration on the loose. I thought you might just have a couple of nosy earth elementals. But no. I've seen this one illustrated in bestiaries -- appropriately called a Crystalline Horror. That's the bad news. This thing would tear through a whole squad of soldiers and they'd barely leave it scuffed up for the trouble. You can't hurt it with mundane weapons. More good news: I'm about to do to it what it would do to that squad. So, I'm going to go smite this thing, then rest up and take on your ooze tomorrow. I'll need the time to prepare spells to deal with mental attacks. Eh. Which way did you say the mine was? Walking distance?"

Heading for the door, Oliver turned, waggling his hand and waiting for an estimate, not really wanting to call a gryphon from his celestial home for a half hour hike.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Oliver

As Oliver outlined how he did not often sign contracts, and wouldn't demand money for what was happening, Roake blinked. For several long seconds, he gazed at the paladin as if he had lobsters coming out of his ears.

"O-oh, right! Yes, that does make sense. Forgive me, my business so often has me dealing with fellow bureaucrats so often I've forgotten what dealing with more reasonable folk is like."

Roake looked visibly relaxed, now. "You may not want to act like a mercenary, but rest assured I'll make sure there's something for you when this is over. I won't let a paladin go unrewarded. Anyway, mine's about a mile south out of down. It's right off the main road at the edge of the jungle, can't miss it. If you start hitting game trails, you've gone too far."

***

Leaving town proved easy enough, as it seemed none of the guards manning the gate had it in them to cause any major hindrance to a paladin; once Oliver presented his writs he was waved through without much further issue. The road south was well-paved, and surrounded on either side with dense fields - papayas to one side, potatoes on the other. People in farmer's garb could be seen attending to all the crops, with the occasional man or woman dressed in the familiar druidic robes of Aratus presiding over them as they worked and ensuring that the harvests would be bountiful and pest-free.

Eventually, Oliver came upon the mine, which, beyond being not far off the road, was rather difficult to spot as there was a crowd of workers around the front entrance. In the middle of them was a man in garb not unlike Roake's, who was speaking rather animatedly to them. As Oliver made his way toward them, two men in armor stepped in front of him, two hardened warhounds at either side.

"Now hold on, there, this is private - oh, a paladin!" Immediately, the two men, who had previously looked rather stern, looked extremeley apologetic, and bowed from the waist. "Terribly sorry, sir. We weren't expecting anyone official. Did you come to deal with the beasts?"

Melody

At Melody's first sentence, Nibley winced and looked quite sheepish. Once she had finished writing, he then scribbled back a reply.

"...a poor choice of words on my part. I apologize."

At the rest of her reply, he gave a warm smile.

"I would be only happy to do so.
It's good to be able to help people now that I've retired.
Was part of the Legion for a few decades, but then I took an arrow to the knee."

Right as he finished writing, Melody felt vibrations in the floor as the wood creaked with the approach of someone new. A rather buxom waitress in a blue dress, white apron, and curled fire-red hair sidled up to the table, and deposited an enormous platter of food in front of Nibley. Clearly, he had ordered the Sunday special, as the plate was piled high with baked beans, fried eggs, a whole roasted tomato split in two, three very fat sausages, several slices of fried black pudding, and crispy golden hash browns in a quantity large enough to feed a small army, all topped off with a large tankard of coffee.

The savory smells were particularly intense, now.

Smiling, the waitress turned to Melody, her mouth moving and her face beaming. Nibley turned to the waitress and moved his lips in speech, tapping his ear, and the waitress brought her hand up to her mouth before waving them in Melody's direction in an apologetic manner. Nibley scribbled down another message.

"She wanted to know if you wanted anything.
If you want something cheaper than the Sunday Special,
Eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and coffee goes for 3 sp, and
eggs, bacon, and coffee goes for 1 sp.
They also have a house porter."

The Girl With No Name and Boza

The cart vendor perked up as TGWNN and Boza placed their first order, whipping out a piece of dough and a long piping bag with the mix for the funnel cake.

"Alright! Let me just get those in."

He then froze as TGWNN gave the first part of the counterphrase.

"And I would like the 2 silver special, but with pickled radish on top."

"...do you want jam with that as well?"

"Nah, but me uncle loves cocoa nibs."

The cart vendor darted his eyes back and forth quickly. Seeing that none of the other few patrons on the dock appeared to be watching, he reached beneath the counter of the cart. Pulling out a letter, he quickly passed it to TGWNN.

"Make sure you read it where no-one's watching. It will combust a minute after you open it."

He then resumed a normal volume. "Anyway, here's your receipt! Your order should be ready in about five minutes."

True to his word, five minutes later, the cart vendor passed TGWNN her order. The crispy fried dough and the funnel cake were still warm to the touch, the oil just moistening the newspaper they were wrapped in. The smell wafted up the duo's nose, and neither of them could help salivating.

Spoiler: Upon opening the letter...

Show

So, you have received the call.

You may think that you have what it takes to overthrow the oppressors. That you have the spine to do the dirty deeds necessary to throw off your shackles. That you – (ink splotch)

Anyway, you want in? You have to show us that you’re brave enough, cunning enough, strong enough to be part of the People’s Front for a Free Ilyrland. To prove yourself, you must successfully do something to defy the Legion and Nobility, and leave our symbol to show that it was the PFaFI who did it.

And no, just graffitiing the Legion’s headquarters won’t be enough. It must be bold, unambiguous, uncoverupabble.

How you do this is up to you, but if you need some help getting started, here are a few suggestions:

• Any treasure or tax the Legion has acquired from the catacombs that have recently popped up, whether collected from local adventurers or otherwise, is stored near the southern gate and transported back to their headquarters each night.
• There is a sacred relic of Isidore, Patron Saint of Explorers, housed in the highest spire of Newharbor Cathedral, inside the Bishop’s office.
• The Duke will be holding a private soiree on October 1 at his estate to celebrate the end of the dry season. Several high-ranking nobility will be in attendance.
• The Ilyrian People's Front apparently has a contact who works out of the Portly Cook. We can't risk having those incompetent pretenders messing up our plans. If you want to stamp them out, by all means do so.

Alternatively, if you’d rather ease yourself in gently, there are plenty of huge, savage beasts in the jungle who would serve as proof of your prowess. The more teeth, the better.


Whatever you do, there is a papaya tree split into three trunks, two miles southeast of Riverport, along the bank of the Glan River. Bury a trophy from your successful hunt there, and then wait a couple days before coming back to the cart. If you succeed, the same counterphrase will get you further directions.

And gentleman/lady?

Welcome to Nidus.

The letter is signed with a clenched fist emerging from a pile of shattered chains - the symbol of the People's Front for a Free Ilyrland.

A minute after opening the letter, it spontaneously combusts; not hard enough to injure you, but swiftly enough to reduce the letter to ash.

[Nefarion Xid]

Oliver
Mines

The knight nodded once, slowly. "That's right. I've just spoken with Mr. Roarke. You've got the two creatures I know of. I'm after the one that isn't the ooze today, then tomorrow I'll be back to take care of the ooze, after I prepare the right spells. I presume the bodies are still where they fell? If you could point me down the right shaft and provide me with some rope and chalk, I would be grateful. The Crystalline Horror seems to be a brazen monster, due to its near invulnerability from mundane weapons. I don't expect he'll hide. He won't take long. I'll just take some time to poke around and see if you've unearthed anything else down that way. Should have you lads back to work in an hour."

Dripping with confidence to the point of apparent boredom, Oliver picked the youngest man out of the crowd with his eyes and repeated his request. "Rope and chalk. Please. Could do with an extra Everburning Torch if you have one. Bit of extra light never hurt."

"It's Sir Oliver, by the way." He realized he hadn't given his name, then looked expectantly to the guards to take him inside.

[Jade_Tarem]

Melody considered, then tugged on the waitress's sleeve and pointed at the bacon/eggs/coffee combo on the menu. Then she took a seat, or tried to. On the first attempt, she missed the chair entirely to land rear-first on the floor. Scrambling to recover only succeeded in knocking the chair over, and attempting to right the chair resulted in the tiny oracle banging her head on the underside of the table. A gloved hand shot up to recover the fancy chalkboard from above the table and scratching noises were heard. Slowly and deliberately, Melody righted the chair and sat in it before planting the new message before the retired lieutenant.

I am an adventurer. A mighty adventurer. Shut up.

The caster crossed her arms and looked away, pouting for a moment before adding a new line.

What did you do before this?

[Tychris1]

Taking her four pastries The Girl mozied off away from the cart with Boza in tow and began to stuff her face as the Half-Orc read the letter. Mumbling and grumbling incoherent words in between chewing pastries she looked over his shoulder to read what she could and occasionally pointed a dirtied sauce stained finger at a word or sentence on the letter. Moving closer to the town square she finally finished eating her food as they walked past a bush and Boza flicked the letter into a nearby bush to watch it burn. Clapping in appreciation at the pyrotechnics The Girl began to lick her fingers clean and pat down her hair "Well, that all seems fine 'nd dandeh, gettin' me all gussy-fussy for a lil tap tap slide but that ain't gonna be till the morrow so how's bout we check out this Portly Cook and see what the town's planning for this announcement yeah?" She hooked an arm around Boza's shoulders and began to do a little playful sashey leading him towards the disreputable establishment.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Oliver

The guards listened attentively as Oliver spoke, and the face of the younger two lit up as Oliver mentioned the possibility of returning to work.

"S-so soon? But Roake told us that the mine'd be shut for good if - I mean, that's wonderful news!"

Spoiler: Perception

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You notice that the other guard elbowed the one speaking as he mentioned the words 'the mine'd be shut for good'.

Spoiler: Knowledge (Local)

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Recalling what you know about safety laws that might apply to this situation, there are a handful of situations that might cause the mine to be closed.

The first is if there were evidence to suggest that further excavation could not continue without causing a collapse and endangerment of the workers.
The second is if there were an altercation with creatures resulting in loss of life past a certain amount (ten, as you recall, more than the four listed by Roake), and if it could not be contained by the authorities or mine security. Regardless of the casualties, you do remember that all altercations of this nature are supposed to be reported to the Legion.
The third is if, in the process of mining, the miners uncovered a route into the Underdark. This used to happen more frequently, in the days when people were frequently trying to exploit the mineral riches of northern Ilyrland, which is positively riddled with caves that have routes into the Underdark (and also goblins), but is less common now.

"Anyway," the other continued. "I feel I should offer some information, Sir Oliver. That other monster - it looked blobby, like an ooze but I don't think it's an ooze. For one thing, it had tentacles. And it floated - pretty sure ooze's don't do that. And, well, Roake already probably told you about how some people reported it feeling like it was attacking their minds." He turned and pointed to the man in the middle of the crowd. "Anyway, we should let the others know you're here. Rope and chalk'll be easy enough to come by, but I think Trenton might have to sign one of the everburners out to you."

As the guards escorted him through, Oliver gradually picked up on what the man in the middle was saying. "...and after all of that, do you know who Roake has sent to deal with this situation?!"

Looking back, one of the miners spotted Oliver and pointed. "A paladin!"

"That's right, a - paladin?!"

Everyone whirled around. About half the miners looked elated, while the other half looked quite confused, including the man who had previously been stirring them up.

"Mr. Trenton?" the younger guard said. "This is Sir Oliver. Says Roake sent him to deal with the beasts so we can all get back to work. He was asking to borrow some rope, chalk, and one of our everburners."

The miners all began to murmur. The now-identified Kent Trenton stared at Oliver with continued surprise for several seconds, then shook himself off and stared at him rather haughtily.

"Summers, this isn't a charity. If he wants an everburning torch, he ought to have brought his own."

The guards and many of the miners began to look rather uncomfortable.

"...uh, sir? He's a paladin. You don't turn down a paladin. Anyway, he just needs to borrow it for-"

"It's private mine property! We can't just let outsiders run off with our equipment! Think of what would happen if it were lost. Who would end up having to pay for a replacement?"

Melody

At Melody's pratfall, Nibley twisted in his mouth in a manner that looked suspiciously as if he were trying to suppress a laugh, but otherwise said/wrote/signed nothing. Taking the chalkboard, he wrote back.

"As I mentioned earlier, I was part of the Legion for a very long time - thirty years in all.
My father was a hero in the Yarasan War, and everyone expected me to
grow up and fight vampires like he did."

"Of course, by the time I joined up, the Age of Adventurers had long passed. I was lucky
enough to be a sergeant back when the Jesendan Sabotage happened, and so
I was one of the boots on the ground when we struck back against them.
It's the only major battle I was ever a part of."

Spoiler: Knowledge (History)

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Twenty years ago, the small nation of Jesendom, which was formerly located on the coast of mainland Tethyria in between the nations of Argus and Kezir, dispatched spies to try and infiltrate the Royal Palace in Ealdorstol and kill Frederick IV and his family, as well as to try and sabotage a load of grain that had been delivered to the royal granaries. The intent, or so the history books say, was to try and make it look like the attack came from Kezir, thus sparking war between Kezir and Ilyrland once again. However, the spies were thwarted in their attempt to kill the emperor, and the poisoning of the grain discovered shortly thereafter. In a stroke of luck, it was found that one of the spies had not been careful enough in covering his tracks, and through careful detective work it was discovered that they had in fact been dispatched by Jesendom, at the behest of their own royal family, who were rumored to have dealings with the reclusive and hostile drow.

In retaliation for what became known as the Jesendan Sabotage, Ilyrland declared war, and launched their entire navy to wipe Jesendom from the face of the earth. Jesendom's own navy fought bravely, but were eventually overwhelmed by sheer numbers; shortly thereafter, the Ilyrians landed on the Jesendian shoreline and fought all the way to the capital, killing every member of the royal army and royal family down to the last man and razing their royal palace, the Sable Tower - or so the story goes. To this day, rumors persist that one of the royal family managed to make it out alive, and is still at large.

Nowadays, Jesendom exists only as a client state and glorified colony of Ilyrland. While Kezir and Argus did make several objections to Ilyrland claiming the nation immediately after the war, neither nation ever actually attempted to follow up on these, as none of the three nations fancied another war with each other.

"For my valor, I was transferred to what was deemed a cushy position here in Nidus.
I spent most of my time training new recruits on the finer points of archery and axebeak riding.
Five years in, a recruit hit me in the knee with an arrow during a training exercise."

"Stubborn as I was, by the time I got to a cleric, the wound had worsened.
They healed it as best they could, but to this day I can't really run or
ride an axebeak as well as I used to."

It was at this point that the waitress returned, and placed a plate with three extremely thick-cut rashers of bacon and a collection of eggs dripping with pork grease down in front of the oracle, along with a mug of what smelled like well-boiled coffee.

"But I don't think I ever got an answer out of you -
Was there something Lieutenant Koval sent you to me for?
He often sends deaf people my way when they need assistance
with official business."

The Girl With No Name and Boza

The Portly Cook's sign was, perhaps, the only clean part of the whole building. The chef depicted on the sign was a jolly and appropriately plump person, with rosy cheeks, a broad, clean-shaven smile, and a cleaver in his hand. In front of him was depicted a large ham from which he several slices had been carved; below that, the name of the establishment, plainted in red.

The rest of the inn was visibly dilapidated, with flaking paint, grafitti, and several chunks taken out of the stonework, as if someone very strong had accidentally planted their fist in the wall. In this regard, it was not unlike the surrounding buildings, and may have even looked a little better than them. In the south end of town, it seemed, once you got off the main road, the upkeep of the buildings drastically decreased.

As if to punctuate this observation, both TGWNN and Boza briefly heard a muffled yelp and a wet thunking noise coming from far off in the distance.

Opening the door to the Portly Cook, the duo were greeted by a full-blooded orc and a tiefling who were positively rippling with muscle. Impeccably maintained chain armor could be seen poking from beneath their rough and ragged clothes, which looked as if they had met the business end of a knife more than once, and each of them carried a pair of knives and a truncheon at their ornately decorated belts, each of which had several notches in them. Their yellow eyes looked TGWNN and Boza up and down carefully.

Spoiler: OOC - "Humorous" Outtake

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"Welcome to the Portly Cook, new fish. How tough are youse?"

"Don't start nothing, new meat. <Or I'll shove both your heads up your a**es and pull them out the other end.>"

So warning them, first in heavily accented Ilyrian and then in Reckh, the orc spoke, and then stepped aside, followed by the tiefling.

The inside of the Portly Cook was very, very dim, even with the tropical sun shining as it did, so crusty were the windows. All of the crude wooden benches and tables were securely bolted to the floor, and there was hardly a single patron inside who wasn't either ridiculously overmuscled, scarred, or both. There were only a few occupied tables at the moment. At one, TGWNN and Boza could see the Austrahelian and the half-orc they had seen leave the Kingfisher; at another, several men in roughly tattered clothing playing cards. And off in the corner, a lone, hooded figure dressed in black robes could be seen, staring into the bottom of his mug of beer. The bar was tended to by a gray-furred ratfolk, who turned to the door as TGWNN and Boza entered and eyed them up and down.

***

As 10:00 struck and the bells rang in the tower of Newharbor Cathedral, the town square was utterly packed. A platform had been assembled in front of the Legion's Headquarters, and was guarded end-to-end by mounted legionnaires, swords at their sides and bows on their backs. More archers could be seen up on the walls of the Headquarters, along with a few atop the other buildings along the plaza. None of this served to deter the curious, and occasionally excited, mutterings of the crowd assembled there.

Right as the bells finished chiming, the portcullis of the Headquarters opened, and Duke Lachlan strode forward, decked to the nines in shining armor and accompanied by several guards of his own. A cleric in Iudexus' colors also accompanied them, and as the Duke took to the stage, he muttered something and touched the Duke's throat. The Duke, now magically amplified, began to talk.

"Citizens of Newharbor, and all of those who have just arrived, thank you all for coming. In the name of efficiency, I shall get straight to the point."

"The news that broke just over a month ago is true. On August 24, strange catacombs began to appear deep in the jungles of both Northern and Southern Nidus, which stay surfaced for anywhere from three to seven days and then retreat into the earth. On August 28, a strange door, inscribed with old, profane carvings, appeared in the Central Nidan Pass, almost exactly in the middle of the no-man's land between Northgate and San Jacobo."

Some people began to cheer, but the Duke extended his hand.

"Silence, please. Based on our calculations, the first of you who would have gotten the news after it was leaked back in Ilyrland would have arrived today. It is for this reason that we chose to make this announcement now. In the name of protecting our Legion's own investigations into the cause of the appearance of the catacombs, and to maintain order here in Northern Nidus, at his majesty's behest, I will be putting some new edicts into effect."

Uncomfortable murmurs began to bubble forth.

"Any who wish to investigate the catacombs who is not affiliated with the Legion must obtain a license to go delving for treasure. These will be available at a special booth near the southern gate and at the dock for the Ferry to riverport; the latter will be set up by noon today. Those who wish to obtain a license must pass a brief interview conducted by either of the guards there; those who pass may then purchase one for a nominal fee of 15 crowns. Additionally, to better fund the Legion and bolster our efforts against Kezir, the Treasure Tax will be raised from 15% to 20%. Anyone caught without a license, attempting to interfere with the Legion's own investigations, or caught committing tax fraud, will be subject to confiscation of their treasure and imprisonment."

The uncomfortable murmurs got louder, and several in the front row began to protest loudly; however, these were quickly quieted as several of the legion drew truncheons and motioned their mounts forward. The plaza then went silent in short order.

"That is all for today. Thank you once again for coming."

The Duke marched away, escorted again by the guard, and the crowd began to gradually dissolve in a flurry of dissatisifed muttering.

[Nefarion Xid]

Oliver
Mines

"Regrettably, I postponed my shopping excursion in favor of seeking out and destroying ancient evil this morning. It seemed more pressing. I even turned down brunch. Though, for what it's worth, I am billable at Aegis & Co. and my temporary residence is at the Kraken -- room number three. Ainsley is spelled with an E-Y, same as his lordship. You might also seek redress with him for the loss of your shiny stick."

Oliver stared through the man's skull, not hiding his disdain, though it was hard to read as any different than his normal, world weary face. He might have searched the man's aura for wickedness as well, but doubted Trenton was burdened with cosmological significance enough to merit even a detectable glimmer.

"Well," he said after several steely seconds of silence, "your stellar bookkeeping acumen aside, I'm going to put a sword through that monster before it realizes it's more or less, but definitely more, invulnerable to all of your weapons and that there's actually nothing keeping it from crawling up and massacring every man here. Please don't trouble yourself with updating your ledger on my account. I wouldn't want to be billed for one one-thousandth of a pot of ink."

He didn't raise his voice much when the mentioned the massacring. Crowds tended to remain silent when he spoke. Oliver shrugged, then turned as if ready to move on with nothing further.

"Someone..." that word did come out louder than he intended. "Point me down the right shaft before I become cross enough to start asking uncomfortable questions for which I already know the answers. I presume I can track this monster by the smell of death?"

Spoiler: Intimidation

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(1d20+5)[20]

[Jade_Tarem]

Melody had started drinking the coffee already during the man's writing spree, and put it down before resuming on their own board.

The Duke is making a big speech about the catacombs and I need to know what he says.

Sorry about the knee. When I become more powerful, maybe I can fix it.

With that thought out there, the oracle began munching on the bacon. Swiftly, in fact.

[Tychris1]

The Girl eyed the full blooded Orc and Tiefling with eyes full of skepticism and a toothy grin overflowing with friendliness. Sauntering into the rundown establishment she made mental notes of everyone here and when possible made eye contact with the denizens in a goading dance of passive aggressive social standing. Most of her focus was on the Half-Orc and Austrahelian man, lazily holding a subtle conversation of body language, and making no effort at disguising her wandering eye. She ordered the cheapest alcohol available and lightly sipped on it, singing a tune in between gulps, and drumming her fingers on the grimy chipped wood of the bar.

"If you don't like sunny days
Then I'll make it rain
Make a bird sing
Any song you wanna hear it singing
Fix all your broken things
If I was a devil.

I'll take you down
And put you in my house
Keep you nice and close
Teach you what you don't know
I'll take you from the holy host
If I was a devil.

You might not believe in me
But I'll make you believe
And you'll know my name.

So take me home to your dad
I'll give him something he never had
Make your mama love me
Your sister might wanna touch me
But I'll be yours and yours only
If I was a devil...."

Spoiler: Performance

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(1d20+3)[5]

Finishing her drink she figured it was about time for the speech and dusted herself off to watch the ensuing bulls*it from the perimeter of the Portly Cook. Slapping Boza's chest with the back of her hand to get his attention she pushed past the guards to lean against the establishments faded exterior with arms crossed. Her face grew more and more twisted as the speech went on, her mouth wrenching itself into a feral sickened scowl, eyes that could bore through the hull of a warship, brows furrowed as deep as a trench line, and an implacable twitch bubbling to the surface. Her mouth opened but no words directly left her lips. Rather her voice seemed to carry out magically amongst the crowd, originating over the shoulder of random citizens, never staying in one place for long, and rapidly changing pitch tone or tamber to sound like different people. "Legion's not the ones delving into most of these holes why should they get the cut? I bet they're going to hoard all of it. Highway robbery's what it is. Heroes should be rewarded not imprisoned. Real heroes do things for the good of the realm not for a check or sitting around collecting a tax. This is a farce. Absolute sh*tshow s'what it is."