Pathfinder Society - The Hydra's Fang 07/22/2019

General Summary

The Pathfinder Initiates were being sent to meet a fellow Pathfinder in a crumbling old tavern called The Tails in Diobel, which stands upon the flooded ruins of a former siege town on the western coast of the Isle of Kortos.
They arrived in Diobel via the overland route from Absalom to meet a contact in a pub known as “The Tails”; a dingy, brine-soaked shack covered with swordfish tails located in a rundown section of town called South Reach. There, bitter longshoreman coming off the graveyard shifts pile in and slam rounds of a potent shark-fin liquor, cursing and complaining until they’re drunk enough to be carted home by noon. The disparaged scene has few prying eyes—the ideal place for Pathfinders to pass along their covert whispers. You enter early in the day, when the small crowd of older men is at its most drunk and rowdy, the revelry within barely contained by the boarded-up windows. The group stand out like sore thumbs among the ruddy-faced dockworkers, most of whom have more ginblossoms than teeth. The crowd immediately heckled them for being up-scalers and gold-thumbers, demanding that they spend some of their coin to buy the bar a round, but quickly fall silent when moments later, a dark, cloaked figure rises from the back of the bar. Then, eyes averted, everyone returns to their former conversations. Drawing back his cloak, the contact reveals himself—a man his late forties with obvious Chelaxian features and a faint beard. He introduces himself only as Osprey, then invites you to sit before he finally tells you why the Society dragged you to Diobel:
“We’ve word that the accursed Chelaxian pirate Darsielle Du Moire’s has anchored his much sought ship, the Hydra’s Fang, in the harbor. Everyone’s looking for that bastard. He carries with him some ancient tablets of extreme historical value to our organization. Unknown to most, Wittlestone, the small Andoren town Du Moire razed to the ground, was also home to Myraxus Threeshadows, a noted but aging sage and umber mystic supposedly of ancient Azlanti decent. Among Myraxus’s possessions he kept ancient forgeries of several tablets used in ancient rites during Old Azlant’s height. When Darsielle destroyed the village, he slew the wizard and took the tablets, hoping to pawn them to one of his buyers in Diobel. The tablets are a priceless archeological treasure, one greatly desired by the Pathfinder Society. In fact, just prior to the Azlanti’s death, we placed several bids to purchase the tablets and so naturally were the first to realize they’d gone missing. You must race to get Du Moire and recover the stolen tablets before his pursuers find him or he flees port.
“If our sources are correct, we’ve learned that he owes a substantial amount of money to one of the Consortium’s more ambitious Enforcers, an importer named Lubor Staizkal. Likely he needs to settle with him at some point. Go to Lubor’s shop on Meldon Lane, near the docks, and see if you can pick up Du Moire’s trail from there, then do whatever you can to get those tablets. May the Gods speed you in this task.”
While some of the group ordered drinks, Oreleth wanted tea and received what she could only imagine to be water straight from the sea. Vrath talked to the barkeep and demanded another freshly brewed for his friend. He however had no intent of paying for the drinks, until Maiki picked him up and dropped him on the counter.
The group set off looking for the harbor, but encountered a disturbance in the town. There were a group of people gathered outside Lubor's Imports. The door hangs slightly ajar. All is dark within, and eerily silent. As they peer inside, they witness the scene of a recent brawl. Furniture lies smashed and strewn about. Near a closed door at the back of the shop, two bodies slump upon the floor, their blood pooling slowly beneath them. The door to the back room was bolted shut and the sound of sliding boxes and banding around could be heard. Vrath charged in breaking the door down as a thug retreated back into a storage room grabbing a teenage girl and holding her hostage. Vrath in a rage threw his hammer at the thug's head, dropping him to the floor.
The teenage girl hovers over the corpse of a middle-aged merchant. Her silent eyes filled with tears, she mouths the word “daddy.” Vrath asked Oreleth to watch over her, as the group searched the area and interrogated the thug. The learned that the thugs were actually Consortium enforcers, being paid by Du Moire. Lubor refused to aid Du Moire until his debts cleared, and Du Moire slit his throat and retreated though a trapdoor underneath the house.
"Darsielle’s that way. Head through the Underdocks to find the Hydra’s Fang. The harbor guards down below know where he moored the ship. He moves it often, we were supposed to ask them where it was docked when we were finished here.”
Investigating the trapdoor, Vrath slipped and fell to the ground, the area having been covered in grease. And somehow in the confusion, the teenage girl was no where to be found, having disappeared into the crowd.
They enter into a gloomy, greenish twilight where scattered beams of light filter down between weathered dock planks, bouncing off seaweed covered stones that jut from the dark harbor waters. A forest of pylons suspends the docks above where the scurrying feet of merchants, sailors, and longshoremen hammer like a muffled thunderstorm. Between the pylons, they spot small stone bunkers, ruins of older siege forts now crumbling and weathered from centuries of angry waves. A narrow set of docks traverses the rocks, connecting various locations. Eventually, all lead out to the shallow bay at the mouth of the maze. Nearby, they noticed a fresh trail of muck-limned, wet footprints.
There were two guards outside the bunker, and the teenage girl they saw at Lubor's. After dealing with the guards outside, and inside, they discovered that the teenage girl was actually an illusionist named Katiya, who dropped Vrath with a scorching ray spell. The rest of the party subdued her.
Inside the bunker on the wall is a chalkboard with a chart labeled with 20 numbers, each followed by a set of initials. One side of the chart reads mooring, the other side reads ship. Pinned to the adjacent wall hangs a map of the outer harbor marking the locations of the numbered moorings. The initials next to #14 read “HF”. The map shows mooring 14 located in the northwestern part of the outer harbor. In addition, a leather bound manifest log details the comings and goings of hundreds of ships over the past few months in a similar simplified code of numerals and letters.
Exiting the Underdocks, they enter the Shallows, a wide rocky bay only a few feet deep and closed off by immense seawalls that funnel all traffic into the maze. Strung between them, a host of steep maze walls crusted with seaweed, barnacles, and small shellfish create narrow passages just wide enough for rowboats or rafts. Lashed along the sides are free-floating docks which allow longshoremen to help pull boats through or to the side for quick inspections. Every so often, a series of rusted spikes forms a crude ladder leading to the upper maze, where guards keep watch amidst strange shadows cast by weathered devices such as giant winches and claw-like crane arms. Water splashes softly throughout, creating an eerie echo, and the entire structure groans with ominous creaks and strains as if you were traveling through the belly of a great beast. Thankfully, navigating out of the maze is far easier than navigating in, and the ever-watchful eyes of Enforcers on the walls fall almost entirely on the cargos of incoming merchants.
As they draw closer to the end, the sounds of angry waves slam against the outer walls and echo like hordes of chanting goblins. Reaching the outer locks, a grizzled longshoreman calls down to them from above, telling the party to hold tight. The first gate opens with a lazy moan, and he ushers them to move their craft into the small chamber ahead. Once inside, he lowers the gate behind them, then he bids the party good luck as he slowly cranks apart the front doors to the open harbor where dozens of galleons and merchant ships bounce softly on their moorings in the water.
On the shores near where the Hydra's Fang was suppose to be moored, the group was ambushed by five Sahuagin, but they were no match for the party. They proceeded forth and boarded the Fang before they could raise the anchor and set sail. The group was victorious, and killed Du Moire as they had been ordered.
Below decks, the dimly-lit hold has taken on a foot of brackish bilge water, and clammy air laps against your skin. The sole light emanates from a small whale-oil lamp mounted on the lower mast. The cavernous hollow contains dozens of water-damaged crates roped in neat stacks secured tightly to the sidewalls. The remaining portion of the hold is set up like a common room with hammocks, an open larder, and a small kitchen where food is prepared. The accommodations appear radically stripped down, presumably to make room for contraband or increased speed. Toward the bow, loud banging echoes from a wooden door, sodden and swelled shut and held fast with thick black chains.
Opening the cargo hold they encountered three Lacedons, The flooded cargo bay beyond the door holds several dozen drowned slaves, proof positive of Du Moire’s despicable nature. Their horrible, torturous deaths stirred their departing souls, raising some to exact vengeance upon the living. After dealing with them they found a small padlocked chest of wood and hardened leather. Inside, wrapped in moldering velvet, rest four tablets each crafted from a different material— copper, gold, lead, and black slate. The crudely fashioned tablets are incredibly ancient forgeries of the original tablets marking the royal seals of four of the Old Azlant’s noble houses. Regardless of their non-authenticity, their uncanny detail provides great insight into lost languages and historical data associated with the four houses.
They claimed the ship as their own after tossing the bodies of the fallen overboard and set sail to Absolam. Here they hired a crew of six to help them manage the ship. Maglungol, an elven pistolero who boasted that his firearms were the weapons of the future. Mureya Finnridotr, a dwarven inquisitor of Pharasma who boasted her heavy repeating crossbow doesn't jam or blow up in her face. Elel, a half-elven ronin samurai who wielded a battleaxe and wakizashi. Hera, a human artist with a ferret named Iged who would turn the ship into her next masterpiece, and painted the side of the ship to be named "Maiki's Fang". Stiny, a human craftsman and sailor who said he could manage the maintenance on the ship as well as help sail. And last was Jane, a halfling warrior with a halberd, who was pleasant and honest. They got to know each other over a tea party that Oreleth, first mate, had told Haroc to prepare ignoring his protests.

Rewards Granted

Completed their assigment Claimed the Hydra's Fang for their own, renaming it Maiki's Fang.

Missions/Quests Completed

Killed Darsielle Du Moire

Character(s) interacted with

Osprey, Pathfinder Contact Darsielle Du Moire

Notes

Infamy gained with the Kortos Consortium for murdering their corrupt guards.

Report Date

22 Jul 2019