Finding the Spark (Pathfinder 1E Quest)

Imperial Taldor is a land of contradictions, a relic of another time, long since past its prime and seeming one good shove from being consigned to the dustbin of history, so say countless secessionists and revolutionaries and yet a land which has outlasted its founder god. The Empire is older than the Age of Destiny whose name it wore like a cloak. It was the still mortal Aroden who counseled Taldaris in those long ago days among the reeds of the River Porthmos, then not yet mighty. A land of seemingly endless decay, running though countless layers of history, of hollow titles that speak of lands which have long since forgotten Taldan rule and yet of foundations driven so deep that seemingly not even the sundering his fate could move it. Roads were built cities raised and cities fell to ruin, grass grew between the paving stones and then the roads were built again. If there is any land bordering the Inner Sea which can claim the dubious honor of being quintessentially human it is Taldor. The Empire has known flowerings of culture art and trade, it has known tyranny and religious persecution and everything between. The wealth of Taldor it is said are her people and so is its doom.

Political Factions:
Not strictly alliances of the nobility, though certainly not parties in the Andoran mold Taldan Factions are gatherings of people from all walks of life from common soldiers and petty functionaries all the way to the heights of the Senatorial Families moves by a set of ideals, interests or most often both.

The War Hawks
Proponents of War with Quadira and enemies of the Cult of the Dawnflower the War Hawks contend that an empire forged in blood can only be revitalized in blood. Lead by High Strategos Maxillar Pythareus who many see as the potential future Emperor the 'hawks' are also known for their disdain of non-human participation in the Empire's politics, particularly gnomes and half elves, though they mentain decent relations with dwarvish realms whose traditional isolationism they see as admirable, fitting to 'the natural separation of peoples'. Houses Cicato and Vermisant are among their most powerful noble backers while in religious terms they align most with the churches and Abadar and Erastil, given their strong focus on tradition. In foreign policy terms they are ironically the most open to peace with 'the provinces', the lands of Andoran, Cleliax, Galt and others once Taldan now no more. Better to take land by the sword from treacherous easterners and secure the borderlands than to lower themselves to a war of brothers.

The Magpies
Centered not along the noble houses, but the merchant guilds of Opara and Cassomir the Magpies are interested above all else in exploiting Taldor's favorable positions and vast stores of wealth to grow their profits. If there is any land they would like to take it is Abshalon, but these are not military men. Known for spending gold as readily as they gather is they are responsible for the raising of House Talbot to the Senate as well as for the recent, in Imperial bureaucracy time, normalization of relations with Cheliax. Dogged by accusations of Mammon worship the faction is still renowned for both the quality of their Feasts and Games as well as their numerous charitable and pious donations to all the major cults of the Empire. They wield an outsized influence in the Senate though buying off nobles with hollow titles, their lands long since outside of Taldan rule. This does create some tensions with Andoran which occupies some of those lands and has little use for idle nobility.

Th Blues
Formerly associated with the 'loyalist' elements of the church of Aroden the Blues present themselves as unconcerned with earthly matters, protectors of the Empire's soul and in truth many Crusaders, demon hunters and inquisitors of Iomadae, Torag and Abadar are part of their ranks. Their leader is young Lord Remillard Kastner, a paladin of Ragathiel and avowed enemy of the Church of Asmodeus, but the Blues are also deeply distrustful of foreign influences and gods which made an enemy of the large and powerful faction of Vudrani immigrants as well as the Idobarians who brought their own northern spirit speech into the lands. They have little to say about the druids of the Verduran, though they would prefer that the Green Faith keep to the woods and leave the lands of men in their care.

The Princesses's Party
The very name of this faction, aggressively Andoran hints at their desires, to see Princess Eutropia take the Throne of Taldor and usher in an age of reform and revitalization of the Empire. Far from united on what those reforms should be this cohort of young nobles and forward looking merchant princes held together by a combination of idealism and the awareness that the War Hawks will crush them like bugs individually otherwise. They are, perhaps paradoxically given an ear by some of the high nobility who like to hedge their bets like Grand Duchess Breateeza Fahlspar To the extent that Sir Pisca could be said to sympathize with any faction it would be with them, indeed it was though this circle that he encountered the Pathfinders.

The Greens
Considered 'the true traditionalists' of the Senate, much to the poorly hidden frustration of the War Hawks the Greens are the party of Gorzeh, druidry, the fey, and the navy, a confluence of factions that focuses right here in Cassomir. Primarily interested in the preservation rather than the glory of the Taldan state, the maintaining of its oaths and the protection of its shores the greens have almost no support among the merchants who they would see taxed much more heavily than they are presently, though they are very well represented among the yeomanry of the west and north as well as those Cassomiri guilds. The faction is nominally headed by Lord Governor Bozbeyli of Cassomir, who has a claim to the Lion Throne about as legitimate as the High Strategos through seemingly far less interest in pressing it. Common rumor, or better said slander, holds that the faction is in fact headed by a cabal of alien fey, treacherous elves and mad gnomes who move for reasons that no man mortal man could understand. The usual answer the Greens give to such talk is that Taldor is trully fallen from grace if patience is is now counted alien and strange.

OOC: Aren't Imperial politics grand?

12th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

Gorok was quite glad he did not have the nose of a warmblood, he heard enough of them complaining of the smell of the streets above so he didn't even want to consider how it smelled below it. Alas, splashing in the water behind the wall of magic was all the warning he needed that things were about to get worse. He called out a warning to the enraged 'knight' just in time to keep him from charging right into the pincers of an ant grown to the size of an iruxi and covered in spines of thick chitin. Steel sparked against pincers. It was clear from the first blow who would be the victor... and just as clear that this was meant to delay their chase. If that had been all they might still have cut their way through, but another pair of the creatures were trying to drag down more of the walls to either side of them.


The one on the left flank died chittering in pain under a fey-forged needle-sword, but the one to the right was more diligent in the word it had been set, tearing at the supports of the tunnel with teeth like iron. Ants, Gorok concluded amid the crash of breaking masonry, should not be so large. Regardless of his thoughts they were and so were the rock heavy keystone, set centuries ago by some skilled Taldan engineer who neither knew nor cared whose weapon they would become.

By the time they had managed to dig him out of the rubble the ants were gone. Flickering spirit things called into being by the words of the sorceress and filled with her will they were, but they had done their work all too well. Even Pisca's rage was spent into bitterness as he kicked the wall of the tunnel, dislodging shards of petrified filth and cursing the river raiders by all the gods he knew. Gorok wondered, not for the first time, how humans could be so free with the names of mighty spirits and yet ignore the lesser utterly.

Then again, maybe the spirit of this 'sewer' was not one he would have wanted to meet.



Thankfully the 'Razmiran' had no tricks about him for getting out of chains. According to his companions he wasn't even a true shaman, only a liar using bound magic, which to Gorok made about as much sense as a warrior using a barrel of honey for a weapon, the better to drown their enemies. Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever understand warmbloods properly.

"We'll get them when they come back," Mina laid a hand on his shoulder, sharing warmth and comfort as they meandered back down towards the shore amid crowds now grown wary of their presence in the wake of sudden violence. None of the guards had thought to accost them, not while they were accompanied by an imperial knight, but Gorok was already planning where to vanish from sight just in case when Akorian showed himself from those very same shadows with interesting news.

"The Pathfinders want to know if we want to join them, and I said we would think about it. The fellow who made the offer, however, is the sort to hold it over our heads until his arms grow tired..."

"Or you cut them off," Cob offered sagely.

"Or that, yeah, but I would rather we not dismember any Pathfinders if we can help it," the seer returned with a smile down at the goblin who was perhaps the least troubled among them at the loss of Captain Scorpio and what remained of his band. "We are already a known quantity for the Society, and even if we do not take the offer odds are we'll get more jobs from them."

"We have the enmity of their enemies, a useful thing for the treasure hunters," Sirim put in, his tone leaning neither this way nor that.

"What's this about Pathfinders?" Sir Psica came up behind them to ask. "We could use the help tracking down the sons of bitches. There's a tunnel from the sewers leading into a part of the Locker the guards didn't know shit about. Smuggler's run most likely..."

The silence that followed was not quite a question. He did not ask them to follow him down into the depths to chase his loose prey, but it's clear he wanted to and he had one more thing to show for it. In his right hand was a piece of silk that had caught on to to some rock.

"Probably some big spiders down there..."

A hiss of air between Akorian's teeth cut him off, the sound one makes on instinct to call for silence when danger's close. "That, didn't come out of a spider's ass, not recently, at least. That was a part of a cloak or armor."

All of them looked to his chest. Though they couldn't see the silk coat they knew it was there, and they were all thinking the same word: drow.


"They are pirates, but do you think they'd have allied with..." Pisca hesitated to speak the word, maybe so as not to spook the dwellers-in-the-city more.

"They could just be using the same tunnel. I do not think the dark ones would be this close to the surface in the middle of the day, not if they could help it," came the reply, making it clear in that at least he thought them sensible.

Do you explore the Locker in search of the escapees and any drow raiders?

[] Yes
-[] With Pathfinder help
-[] Without Pathfinder help

[] No, you have other things to do this week while the adamantine is processed
-[] Write in

[] Write in

OOC: If that ant did not crit or Gorok did not fail his save you guys might have salvaged the chase, but since it was your tracker stuck under the rubble for another several minutes while they dug him out they managed to slip away.