I paused. "Please."
Again, the silence following my words was almost as complete as the spell.
"You are bold, Kline," said the man with the ram horns. "A fine quality in a Pathfinder. Yet you presume overmuch."
"Yes," echoed the one in the crying mask, his razor-edged voice high and light. "Perhaps you were overcome by the serpent man, but surely even you don't believe yourself the most capable of our agents? Besides, those who come after will have your information to work with. They will go prepared, and I daresay will find more success than you did."
"But—"
"That will be all, Kline." The voice of the branch-masked woman was coated in ice. "You may publish your findings or not, as you wish, but it is not the place of a Pathfinder to advise the Decemvirate."
Deep inside me, something broke loose.
"Fair enough," I said, and reached into my pocket. Behind me I could hear the guards suddenly shift, too late to stop me as I grabbed and thrust, lobbing underhand.
Before me, my wayfinder clinked and slid to a stop on the stone floor.
"Guess that doesn't apply to me anymore."
I turned and walked toward the door.
"Eando."
The woman's voice. I stopped.
"The Decemvirate understands your disappointment, and will grant you time to rethink your rash decision. But you bear something that is not yours."
The guards moved to block the doorway, hands concealed beneath their sleeves. I faced the council.
"The ioun stone, Eando. You acquired it on official Society business, and that makes it Society property. It will be useful in guiding future scholars back to the city. Besides which, it's an important artifact—far too important for one man, Pathfinder or not." She held out a hand.
"Come, Eando. You can still do this honorably."
I stared at that open hand, weathered and worn, and wondered at the swords or bows it had once held—perhaps still held. Who were these men and women, to walk among us so secretly powerful? How did they develop such arrogant confidence, the hubris to direct the lives of thousands?
If I were in their position, would I be any different?
Slowly, I walked forward and stooped to retrieve my wayfinder, the magic compass still as bright as the day I received it. Once again I dug into my pocket, and this time withdrew a brilliant emerald stone, socketing it into place. The needle continued to point due north—back up the Sellen the way we had come.
I looked down at it, then back at the Decemvirate woman. She smiled encouragingly.
I flipped the wayfinder sidearm over the dais, hitting her in the bodice, and she scrambled to catch it.
"You forget yourself, Kline!" she hissed, but I was already walking away.
"Maybe," I replied. "Or maybe I'm starting to remember."
This is my last entry. As such, I feel the need to get the details right.
The sun slanting through my window is soft and yellow, bathing me with heat and picking individual motes of dust out of the air. This pen has seen better days, broken and mended. Outside, the noise of the city is a blanket, enfolding and humbling me, reminding me that despite all my problems I am one of many—a tiny speck flung screaming through space and time. It is a comforting thought. Next to my journal, the ioun stone floats gently in the air.
By the time the Decemvirate realizes that the stone in my wayfinder is a fake, one of the unspent gems plucked from the snake man's crypt, I'll be days ahead, maybe weeks. I don't expect them to give up, especially not when they still have Belzig's notes, but that'll give me plenty of time to get north and purchase the supplies I need. Nothing out of the ordinary for a simple prospector—just torches, rope, and those alchemical concoctions the miners use for blasting. Lots of them.
If Belzig remembers which tunnels he came through to escape the city, then it's up to me to make sure those tunnels aren't there anymore.
Ever since I was a child, I've believed that the greatest thing a man can do is seek knowledge. But now that I'm here, I think perhaps gaining knowledge is not nearly so important as what is done with it. I'm leaving this journal to you, Shevala, because I think you of all people might understand. Maybe years from now you'll decide it makes a good yarn and distribute it yourself. Maybe you'll shelve it and never touch it again. It doesn't matter so much to me. But if you ever do publish these, please sign me just:
Eando Kline,
Adventurer
About the Author
By James L. Sutter and James Jacobs
Little is known about the early life of Eando Kline. While his light skin and native tongue mark him as a child of Avistan, possibly Taldan or Andoran, even companions of long standing rarely get more than a few words out of him on the subject of his origins. Occasional references to a wayward youth, however, combined with a certain practiced affinity for petty theft and lock picking plus charitable tendencies toward orphans, suggest that Eando may have spent his formative years as a street urchin himself. Certainly no one has ever heard him mention a family.
As far as he's concerned, Kline's story begins at the age of 15, when he arrived penniless and travel-stained at the gate of Absalom's Grand Lodge, demanding politely but firmly to be inducted into the Pathfinder Society. Impressed by both the boy's spirit and the great distances which he had obviously traversed to be there, the Society quickly acceded to his wishes and accepted him as an initiate.
Eando's years being trained within the Grand Lodge were tumultuous at best. While none of his instructors could deny the fervor or skill with which he attacked his studies, his drive for knowledge and flagrant disregard for authority frequently landed him in hot water. Even as an adolescent, Eando had a tendency to view rules and laws as guidelines rather than absolutes, and his shameless explorations of the lodge's many off-limits areas and the cheerful, roguish manner in which he accepted his frequent punishments proved a constant source of exasperation for his superiors. Finally, after several years (and as many near-expulsions), Eando was raised to the status of a full Pathfinder and assigned to the jurisdiction of Shevala Iorae, a recently promoted venture-captain whose own legendary stubbornness and talent were hoped to be a match for the ambitious newcomer.
The pairing worked, and over the next decade Shevala became something of a mentor and confidant for the naturally independent Kline, sending him on expeditions all across the Inner Sea region. These missions met with moderate success, despite (or sometimes as a result of) Kline's tendency to leave a swath of accidental carnage in his wake.
In 4707 ar, after a particularly close call in Lastwall left Eando a wanted man in several townships—a simple misunderstanding, Eando insisted, involving questionable property rights and a milkmaid's virtue—Shevala assigned him to the newly established Pathfinder lodge in Magnimar, the first such base of operations on the Varisian frontier. Unsure if he was being punished or not, Eando went eagerly to this relatively unexplored region rife with ancient ruins and monuments from lost cultures. It was here that a simple attempt to recover a mysterious ioun stone brought him to the greatest discovery of his career—and the one that would eventually estrange him from the Society. While the nature of this revelation has not yet been confirmed officially, rumors hold that its implications were terrible enough that Eando went against both his training and his nature in order to plead with the Decemvirate not to release his findings. It's said that, when they refused to safeguard the knowledge, he threw down his wayfinder and resigned from the Society, immediately disappearing from the city of Absalom and taking the strange ioun stone with him. If Shevala or anyone else knows where to find him, they have remained quiet thus far, but the venture-captain has hinted repeatedly that she agrees with Eando's decision, and that she suspects the Society—and the Decemvirate—hasn't seen the last of him.
Eando embodies the spirit of the l
one Pathfinder, constantly placing himself in exotic and dangerous situations in pursuit of the thrill of discovery. While personable and persuasive—and perhaps not as self-reliant as he likes to think—Eando is at heart a loner, with few real friends and no true home but the pack on his back. Part of this is undoubtedly due to his nature: a rough-and-tumble firebrand who has no problem overlooking society's conventions if they don't mesh with his own needs or sense of honor. Yet what demons might lurk behind the cocky demeanor and drive him to so often sacrifice both his own happiness and that of others in favor of obscure knowledge and adventure is a mystery even Eando has yet to solve.
Appearance
Eando is a reasonably attractive man in his late twenties, though most of his appeal comes from his aura of mystery and ever-present smirk rather than any especially handsome features. He stands almost 6 feet tall and is of average build, though his lack of bulk belies lithe and ropy muscles which make him both faster and stronger than his opponents expect. A veteran of numerous brawls and close calls, Eando's limbs bear copious scars from old injuries, and an especially noticeable gash running down the outside of his left eye adds to his charm more than it detracts.
Eando generally dresses in practical traveling clothes, along with a few bits of leather armor which still allow him to move freely. His skin is naturally light but constantly tanned a rich brown from traveling, and his hair and short beard is dark brown bordering on black. His cocky charm and casual air, combined with a talent for oratory and perhaps subconscious bardic abilities, tend to make people want to like him—often despite their better judgment.
Development
Eando can be used in a number of ways, depending on what stage of his career he's at when PCs encounter him. As a working Pathfinder, he's a convenient source of adventure hooks or obscure knowledge, perhaps recruiting the PCs to help him with a mission, accompanying them on an adventure for his own secret ends, or even working against them to claim an artifact of historical significance for the Society before the PCs can reach it.
After his resignation from the Pathfinder Society, Eando is still useful as a plot device. He might try to convince the PCs to assist him in defying the Society or subverting a given member, or even seek to enlist them in a splintered version of the Society that refuses to recognize the Decemvirate. Perhaps the PCs are tasked with hunting him down and stopping him at any cost before he can rebury the great secret which inspired him to cut ties with the Pathfinders. For PCs familiar with his story, they might simply encounter him posing as a run-of-the-mill NPC, only piecing together his true identity after he has disappeared once again.
Eando Kline CR 11
Male human bard 5/rogue 6/sorcerer 1
CG Medium humanoid
Init +3; Senses Perception +0
Defense
AC 20, touch 15, flat-footed 16
(+5 armor, +1 deflection, +3 Dex, +2 dodge)
hp 67 (12 HD; 11d8+1d6+12)
Fort +5, Ref +14, Will +8
Defensive Abilities evasion, trap sense +2, uncanny dodge
Offense
Spd 30 ft.
Melee +2 short sword +13/+8 (1d6+3/19–20) or
Ranged mwk dagger +11 (1d4+1/19–20)
Special Attacks bardic performance 15 rounds/day (countersong, distraction, fascinate, inspire competence +2, inspire courage +2), sneak attack +3d6
Bloodline Spell-like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +4)
6/day—touch of destiny (+1)
Bard Spells Known (CL 5th; concentration +8)
2nd (3/day)—delay poison, glitterdust (DC 15), shatter (DC 15)
1st (5/day)—comprehend languages, cure light wounds, feather fall, grease (DC 14)
0 (at will)—flare (DC 13), light, mage hand, mending, prestidigitation, resistance
Sorcerer Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4)
1st (4/day)—expeditious retreat, sleep (DC 14)
0 (at will)—acid splash, arcane mark, ghost sound (DC 13),
read magic
Bloodline Destined
Tactics
Before Combat Not normally a religious man, Eando has recently taken to whispering quick prayers to Desna before fights. Treat these as bardic music inspiring competence or courage in himself using Perform (oratory). On those rare occasions when he sees a fight coming in advance,
he generally hides and prepares to ambush his foe with a sneak attack.
During Combat Eando doesn't fight unless he has to, preferring to sneak, run, or talk his way out of any conflicts, but if cornered, he prefers to take the first swing—often literally. Rather than waste time drawing a sword, he generally chooses to go for a disabling kick to the knee or a quick and surprising blow to the face or throat, hoping to drop a foe with a well-placed nonlethal sneak attack and end things early. Though he's a competent spellcaster, a lifetime of hard knocks has taught Eando to rely first and foremost on his physical reflexes, and he tends to save his spells for emergencies.
Morale Eando is no fool, and attempts to escape combat if reduced below 10 hit points, provided his allies are able to do the same. Haunted by the death of the adventurer Sascha Antif-Arah, one of his few true friends, Eando fights to the last to defend those he truly cares about.
Statistics
Str 12, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 13, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +7; CMB +8; CMD 23
Feats Dodge, Eschew Materials, Great Fortitude, Improved Unarmed Strike, Leadership, Lightning Reflexes, Toughness, Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus (short sword)
Skills Bluff +16, Climb +10, Disable Device +16, Disguise +10, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +12, Knowledge (geography) +12, Knowledge (history) +12, Knowledge (local) +12, Knowledge (nature) +12, Linguistics +7, Perform (oratory) +16, Ride +12, Sleight of Hand +16, Stealth +18, Survival +3, Use Magic Device +12
Languages Aklo, Common, Orc, Shoanti, Varisian
SQ bardic knowledge +2, bloodline arcana, lore master 1/day, rogue talents (finesse rogue, resiliency, trap spotter), trapfinding +3, versatile performance (oratory)
Gear elixir of hiding, elixir of swimming, scroll of fireball; Other gear +3 leather armor, +2 short sword, masterwork daggers (2), mysterious ioun stone, ring of protection +1, backpack, journal, numerous belt pouches, writing supplies
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The Compass Stone: The Collected Journals of Eando Kline Page 25