Iomedae: Goddess of valor, rulership, justice, and honor, who in life helped lead the Shining Crusade before attaining godhood.
Kaava Lands: Jungle-covered peninsula north of Desperation Bay.
Kalabuta: Of or related to Kalabuto; a citizen of Kalabuto.
Kalabuto: Ancient Sargavan jungle city now inhabited primarily by native Sargavans and ruled by a small cadre of colonials.
Laughing Jungle: Jungle in southern Sargava.
Lizardfolk: Ancient and tribal race of intelligent reptilian humanoids; often viewed as backward by humans.
Mulaa: Prominent tribe of native Sargavans known for their farming and ranching.
Mwangi: Of or pertaining to the Mwangi Expanse; someone from that region. “Mwangi” as an ethnicity is a catch-all term created by northern humans to describe the wide variety of cultures found in central Garund.
Mwangi Expanse: A sweltering jungle region found in central Garund.
Mzali: Massive temple-city located south of the Screaming Jungle and east of Kalabuto. Its xenophobic inhabitants, also called Mzali, worship the Child-God Walkena and seek to drive all nonnatives from the Mwangi Expanse.
Native: Sargavan slang term for the nation’s indigenous peoples.
Nirmathas: Fledgling forest nation in central Avistan that is constantly at war with its former rulers.
Nirmathi: Of or pertaining to Nirmathas; a citizen of Nirmathas.
Oubinga River: Major river in the Kaava Lands.
Pathfinder: A member of the Pathfinder Society.
Pathfinder Lodge: Meeting house where Pathfinder Society members can buy provisions and swap stories.
Pathfinder Society: Organization of traveling scholars and adventurers who seek to document the world’s wonders.
Pharasma: The goddess of birth, death, and prophecy, who judges mortal souls after their deaths and sends them on to the appropriate afterlife; also known as the Lady of Graves.
Rivermen’s Guild: Powerful monopolistic guild based in Port Freedom that controls river travel in the region.
Sargava: Former Chelish colony which successfully won its independence, and maintains it through an expensive arrangement with the piratical Free Captains of the Shackles.
Sargavan: Of or related to Sargava; a citizen of Sargava.
Scrying: Using magic to view something from a distance.
Sea Devil: Intelligent and predatory aquatic race with a resemblance to the sharks they adore.
Sea Drake: Breed of lesser aquatic dragon capable of breathing devastating electrical attacks, but still less intelligent and powerful than a true dragon.
Shackles: Chaotic pirate isles northwest of Sargava, ruled by the Free Captains.
Shelyn: The goddess of beauty, art, love, and music.
Smuggler’s Shiv: Dangerous island in Desperation Bay known for both its smuggling activity and the many monsters that inhabit its wilds.
Sorcerer: Someone who casts spells through natural ability rather than faith or study.
Taldane: The common trade language of the Inner Sea region.
Venture-Captain: A rank in the Pathfinder Society above that of a standard field agent, in charge of organizing expeditions and directing and assisting lesser agents.
Walkena: The mysterious leader of Mzali, also known as the Child-God, who ruthlessly seeks to drive all nonnatives from the Mwangi Expanse.
Wand: A sticklike magic item imbued with the ability to cast a specific spell repeatedly.
Wizard: Someone who casts spells through careful study and rigorous scientific methods rather than faith or innate talent, recording the necessary incantations in a spellbook.
Read on for a sneak peek at
GEARS OF FAITH
by Gabrielle Harbowy
Available April 2017
Copyright © 2017 Paizo Inc.
2
WELCOMING COMMITTEE
ZAE
Veena Heliu, the Precentor Martial for Magic, was often described as fiery for reasons that had nothing to do with her red hair. She was deep in an argument when they arrived, her raised voice audible from the other end of a long marble hallway. Pages wearing indoor boots of soft leather shuffled past silently, carrying scrolls in secure tubes and not making eye contact with Zae or each other. Keren, in contrast, had the conspicuous jingle and clank of armor to accompany her every step.
Zae couldn’t distinguish Veena’s distant words through their echoes, and she was almost disappointed when the yelling cut off abruptly upon their approach, replaced with the sibilant hisses of angry whispers. From the set of Keren’s jaw, this wasn’t normal; Zae surmised that whatever the source of the buzz Keren had mentioned, it had not been resolved overnight.
Zae had never been inside Vigil’s Crusader War College, but Keren’s father had taught here, and his children had grown up within Castle Overwatch’s walls. Zae and Appleslayer followed as Keren led the way with the familiarity of muscle memory rather than recent experience. She tried a couple times to make conversation, but Keren’s face was drawn tight and Zae left her to her own thoughts.
“Keren Rhinn! Right on time.” Most people towered over Zae—she was used to that—but she suspected Veena Heliu could tower over people even taller than the sorcerer herself. She radiated such power and certainty that the air was alive with it. Zae looked around, but saw no one else; whomever Veena had been arguing with had left, if they’d ever been physically present at all.
“Reporting as summoned,” Keren answered, stopping sharply at a respectful distance. Veena was a half-elf, and though she was not Keren’s true aunt, Keren had referred to her as “Auntie Veena” on the walk over. There was no sign of that informality on Keren’s part now. “This is Sister Zae, Cleric of Brigh.”
The Precentor nodded curtly toward Zae, then surveyed Appleslayer, who stood alert at attention in his polished saddle. “And this is your mount, ready for his combat training.” More often than not, the people Zae encountered were surprised to see dogs in such a role, but Heliu’s life revolved around the art of war and the duty of defense. Her lack of surprise was no surprise. A note of approval hung in her voice, which might or might not have been Zae’s hopeful imagination.
Appleslayer’s plumed tail twitched back and forth once in a single, uncertain wag.
Heliu held out her hands, one toward each of them. “Are you ready?”
Keren hesitated.
“Speak freely, Crusader.”
Keren cleared her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’d requested to be briefed on the reason for the fast transport.”
“I didn’t receive orders to brief you. I’m afraid your request’s been denied from higher up.”
Zae looked between the two women. Keren always accepted command decisions even when they left her conflicted—and Zae knew when she was conflicted, because the bottled-in frustration came out in the safety of their home—but Zae had also seen Keren’s “Can’t we work around this?” face enough to recognize it now.
“Well, thank you all the same,” Zae said to defuse the silence. “I would be excited to spend weeks on a boat, but I’m sure Keren’s glad to be getting to where we’re going.”
“Quite so,” Heliu answered. “I’ll be taking you into a park—it’s discreet, quiet, and no one pays much attention to how many people are wandering around there. I must return immediately to my duties, so I won’t be able to direct you to the Seventh Church myself, but someone from the church will be there to meet us.”
They both took Heliu’s offered hands, and Zae and Keren each buried their free hands in Appleslayer’s fur. The sensation was slight—just an odd weightlessness in Zae’s stomach, and then it was over. Her feet were now on grass. Where they had left at noon, they arrived in a place where the sun was noticeably lower in the afternoon sky. A copse of trees made an almost accidental clearing that would be difficult to stumble upon by chance. In different circumstances, it would have been a perfect spot for a moonlit tryst.
Zae
checked herself and her companions. No limbs seemed to be out of place. Appleslayer whuffed softly under his breath, and Zae shook her head. “No exploring for now. Stay close.”
When they stepped around the corner and into the larger park, they found an expanse of lush green meadow dotted with people lounging in twos and threes. In front of them, sitting on a stone bench with a small leather-bound book in her hands, was a woman dressed in the robes of an Iomedaean.
“I leave you to it.” Veena nodded toward the initiate, and exchanged quiet words with Keren. Zae was too distracted studying her surroundings to pay attention.
The initiate stood and tucked the book away into the folds of her robes as Zae and her companions approached, greeting them with a warm smile. Roughly the same age as Darrin’s aunt Estrelle, she had straight honey-brown hair and a particular intensity Zae had often seen in people who were strongly devoted to their gods.
“Welcome,” the woman said to them, gaze lingering on the white and gold of Keren’s armor. “You must be our new arrivals from Lastwall.”
“That we are.” Keren held up her left palm in greeting, showing the priestess the sword-mark there. Zae and Keren both bore the shield on their right palms. While Zae had her odd gear-shaped birthmark on her left hand, Keren had received the sword-mark of Iomedae on that palm to identify her as a Vigilant defender of Lastwall. “Crusader Keren Rhinn, and this is Sister Zae. Thank you for meeting us. We’re pleased to be in Absalom.”
“My name is Kala, initiate of Iomedae. It’s a pleasure to be of service to the Knights of Ozem, especially in these trying times. Shall we?” Kala gestured to the path.
They walked along a quiet wooded trail at an unrushed pace that surprised Zae, considering how hasty their departure from Vigil had been once all the gears were in motion. Kala addressed Keren while Zae and Appleslayer followed behind. Keren stole a look over her shoulder, her eyebrows drawn in momentary concern, but Zae smiled assuringly in response. She didn’t feel slighted. If her organization had greeted them, Zae would have expected the attention to be hers, but it was a pleasant day, with a breeze stirring the tops of the trees, and she was content to walk with her dog, enjoy the weather, and muse about what studying at the Clockwork Cathedral would be like.
“What’s the name of this place?” Keren asked.
“Oh! I should be a better guide. I’m sorry. It’s always so exciting to meet new people. This is the … well, the Greenery Park. We’ll be heading west into the center of Absalom from here. It’s the best route at this time of day.”
Her hesitation sounded like embarrassment, so Zae said, “City planners are strange creatures. Seems like a redundant name for a park, doesn’t it? Does the temple have you on guide duty often?”
“Oh, not often. Well, not until recently. All these servants of Iomedae flocking into the city. I do quite enjoy meeting new members of the order. Not new new, I mean, intending no offense to your possibly extensive and decorated service, but new to me.”
They followed a wide carriage road out of the park and entered the bustle of a city headed toward evening. “These trying times, you mentioned?” Keren asked.
“Are those … camels?” Zae blurted at the same time. While there were a few horses and donkeys to be seen, camels seemed to be the customary beast of burden and transport here. Zae had never seen a camel in person before, and something about them struck her oddly. Maybe it was the spindlyness of their legs, or the long, questing necks, but they just didn’t look like they’d been assembled according to an optimal design. Appleslayer stopped in the middle of the road, sniffing the air, and took a few steps toward a narrow side street, whining under his breath.
Zae followed him and peered down the street. She saw an aged pub sign creaking over a narrow doorway, and a shadowed dead end piled with rubbish beyond. She snapped her fingers by her thigh. “Come on, Apple. I know the camels stink, but I need you to stay close.”
The dog whined once more, grumbled under his breath, and trotted back to Zae’s side. She rubbed between his ears. “Good boy. I know it’s all really interesting, but we need to keep up with Keren.”
When Zae returned with Appleslayer at her side, Kala was still describing the various troubles the city was facing. Keren, who had never lived in any city but Vigil, listened patiently while the initiate rambled. Zae, who had spent time in several cities, knew the issues to be most generic. Sewers not keeping up with rising population; crime in the poorer districts; too much distrust of certain officials and too much trust of others. Meanwhile, there was no mistaking their passage across some invisible border into the next district to the west—buildings were suddenly closer together and more people crowded the streets, all with different destinations. A knot of chaos resulted, which for Zae manifested as a sea of knees and thighs. She noticed armor, leather and metal; women in soft breeches or simple dresses with minimal ornamentation; and very few shoes that had seen a brush or cloth in recent memory. These were commoners by and large, with a few servants shopping for their masters, and a few lawkeepers maintaining order or soldiers doing their own errands. Hopping up into Appleslayer’s saddle—and then, while stopped at a corner, standing atop the saddle with Keren’s arm for balance—Zae caught a glimpse of the peaks of market stall tents.
“What’s this place?” Zae asked.
“Ah, this? This is the Gold District.”
A passing servant with a broad basket at her hip bumped into Kala and looked at her askance. “It’s the Coins, actually,” she said, and then moved on.
Kala cleared her throat, ignoring the imposition, but Zae exchanged a glance with Keren. A translation error, perhaps, though Kala didn’t have any particular foreign accent that Zae could place. “Whatever you call it, it’s the trade quarter, if you will. Anything can be bought and sold here, at any time of day or night. Is there something like it where you come from? Lastwall, wasn’t it? They never tell me anything about the arrivals, just when to be at the meeting point.”
The constant questions were having an effect on Keren’s bearing, though Zae knew no one else would have noticed the weight of them on her armored shoulders. “Have you always studied here in Absalom?” she asked, redirecting the initiate.
“Oh, I’ve only arrived recently, myself. It’s the home of so many miracles, you know. Legendary for its concentration of relics, too. I’ve heard that practically everything of religious significance probably finds its way here eventually. Have you heard that?”
“I hadn’t, actually.”
“Well, apparently it’s true. The Pathfinder Society has its headquarters here, and securing relics is one of the many things they do. And there are so many museums! Both public and private collections. This truly is where antiquities are traded and where history lives.”
“Speaking of living history, are you taking us directly to the church, or to our lodgings first?” Keren asked. The row houses here weren’t exactly crumbling, but they looked like drunken old men in the small hours, propping each other up as they stumbled home from a tavern. It would be interesting to stay in one of them, Zae thought. She imagined them smelling of booze on the inside and swaying slightly around last call.
“Oh, to your lodgings of course, so that you can freshen up before you present yourselves to the church. You’ll be staying just west of here, in the Foreign Quarter, where most of the city’s guest housing is. I brought you this way because it’s just so important to know where the markets are in a new city, don’t you think?” Kala returned her attention to Keren. “Everything can be bought and sold in the Coins.”
Keren nodded. “As you said. It’s very good to know; you have our thanks.”
Kala pressed her point. “Everything.”
“Indeed, Priestess.”
“So, if you were searching for someone who’d stolen something, perhaps to sell it, this might be where you would look. Wouldn’t you say?”
Zae knew the expression that went with that particular uncomfortable shift of Kere
n’s shoulders. For a moment, she made the same face, herself. “I daresay you know the city far better than we, Priestess.” Keren was only that formal when she was choosing her words carefully. “Surely a city this large has many crevices for people who don’t want to be found.”
“Yes, surely. But where are they sending you to look?”
“Look for what?” Zae asked, nudging Apple to keep up. Kala didn’t spare her a glance.
“It’s all right.” Kala shifted closer to Keren. “I know why you’re really here. I so desperately want to help, but I’m a new initiate so they’ve got me just escorting the seasoned ones in. I don’t get to see any adventure for myself. Take a little pity on me and let me live vicariously through your mission. The other groups have all told me where they’re being sent…”
“I didn’t think it was exactly secret,” Keren said, and Kala’s posture straightened expectantly. “My mission is to train at the Tempering Hall. I’ll be deepening my understanding of my faith, studying the Acts of Iomedae, and—”
Kala waved her graceful hand. “There’s no need for such pretense.”
“Pretense?”
“Your cover story is practiced to perfection. It’s completely believable. But I mean your actual mission, of course. The … artifact. You know.”
“I’m sure I don’t,” Keren said. “Perhaps you’ve confused us with another traveling party.”
Kala smiled a smile that was just on the forced side of amusement. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Tell me, in—Lastwall, did you say?—is torture a part of your training?”
“The giving or the enduring?” Keren’s voice was just a notch too tight to be joking. Kala tossed her head back and laughed.
“Oh, you’re lovely. The enduring, of course.”
Keren stiffened again, and Appleslayer’s muscles tightened and bunched under Zae’s saddle. He knew how to read Keren’s body language as well as Zae herself did, or perhaps she was simply giving off a sudden scent of wariness.
Pathfinder Tales--Through the Gate in the Sea Page 29