Insidious - Book One
h6.Meeting at The Thirsty Camel and Captain Rolf
The Thirsty Camel. In the winter that has feel on the land, The Camel, as it is called, stands as a spot of warmth against the frigid cold. Located in the small coastal town of Ilsurian, at the mouth of the Skull River, The Camel served as the areas only place where you could hang a rain soaked cloak and kick back to rest weary feet. To the south was Lake Syrantula and the Fenwall Mountains. Fenwall was teaming with roving war clans and warring bandit groups. Nothing of comfort for a traveler. To the east, approx 6-8 days travel by horseback lay Biston. Nothing more than a small fishing village on the lake, Biston had very little to offer the weary traveler until much further east to the town of Melfesh. Lying to the west of Ilsurian, though still a good 10 days journey lay the village of Whistledown. Then from there, nothing more than scattered homesteads and bandit camps to greet the traveler. Ilusrians placement made it an ideal location for The Camel.
The cold night had brought with it a soft glow of light from a half cresent moon. Outside The Camel, cold shadows could be seen from the buildings and horses bound to the hitching post that stretched the entire length of the front of the building. As you entered, the summons you had received instructed you to talk with Gilga, the proprietor of The Camel. Upon finding Gilga, who was not hard to miss as she resembled a six and half foot man with gigantic tits and spoke in a voice that only a mother could love, well maybe not even a mother, directed you to a large table centered by a large stone hearth, the hearths fire warming the area. As you approach and sit you also see a few other people with what seems to be the same rolled scroll you had received.
As you sit warming by the fire, sipping on the drink brought to you, courtesy of the house, you take the time to glance around the large common room of The Camel. From drunken, half naked old men to well built, able bodied farmers, The Camel covered the spectrum. Gleeful laughs could be heard from the numerous working girls sitting atop mens laps as they slap wandering hands away and mutter words that bring rotten toothed smiles as the ruffians grasp mugs of foamy ale. Serving wenches move about the room, bringing plates of stale bread and cold gruel to the hungry mouths, Occasionally the same wandering hand tries to find its way on to the rumps of a passing wench which is normally meet by the same swat as it had just received a few moments prior bringing with it another smile and boisterous laugh. The smell of burning wood hung in the air, mixed with the sour odor of sweat and bodies that hadn’t seen the inside of a bathhouse for days. The other people seated at your table though seemed different. They did not have the same ruff, uncivilized look as every one else.
As you begin to ponder the reasons for this summons, a well groomed, human male, wearing dark purple, ornately built leather armor approaches the table. The muttering at the table subsides as your table mates turn there head, asking the same question as you in there heads. Glancing slowly around the table, the stranger whips his cloak around and pulls the last seat of the table out and sits.
“Evening.” he says in a deep, educated voice. “I can see that everyone has arrived and I thank you for your presence here. I hope The Camel has treated you well. If you are in need of any further drink or have empty bellies please get one of the wenches to fetch something for you. I promise it wont be the same shit you see being served to everyone else.” raising his hand and snapping his fingers, he gets the attention of one of the servers and motions for service.
“As many of you already know, the reasons for your presence here is one of employment. I am Captain Rolf Crimstone, commander of the Varisia division of the La’Roche organization. If you have never heard of us that is of no concern. Know that we are a world reaching organization that prides itself on discovering the hidden treasures of Golarion and have had a pretty good track record thus far. It is no different here in Varisia. Recently, we have heard talks of increased Ork, hobgoblin and Bugbear activity in Ashwood. This normally wouldn’t concern us but at the same time, it has come to our attention that there has been sightings of a, how should I say, Werewolf double the size of a normal creature of its species around the Deep to the north. This is concerning in many ways…” the server interrupts Rolf, sitting a mug in front of him and a plate of roasted chicken and steaming potatoes. He leans forward, grasping the chicken, he continues as he starts peeling the meat from the bones.
“There is a very organized clan of Bugbears in Ashwood that we have been watching for a few years now. There Shaman, Moth as he is called, has given the clan something you don’t find in many of the humanoid clans in the area, strong leadership. With this he has promised the return of an ancient protector that would bring with them the dominance of the bugbear race.” pausing a moment, Rolf takes a big bite of chicken followed by a large swig from the mug. “This protector signals the beginning of other, more dire set of events how ever and we must confirm if this so called giant werewolf is in fact this returned protector.” Finishing few more bites and chicken and large mouthful of potatoes, Rolf picks up the mug and leans back in his chair, pushing the plate aside.
“You have been asked to come here and assist us in finding the truth to the giant wolf and the humanoid clans. As mentioned this is a paid request for which you will be paid handsomely. What say you? Is this something feel you can handle for us?” Rolf asks as he slams back the final sip of ale from his mug.