You’ve spent weeks on a ship traveling to Fyrrok.
Your mission is very important to the Red Shirts, this is a once-in-many-lifetimes opportunity.
Lord Hammersand is the Fyrroki who’s hiring the Red Shirts.
Hammersand is offering your organization a steady stream of paying jobs all in service of clearing up his family name.
Hammersand wants you to prove that the organization is capable by clearing out cultists from a building he owns. In return he will gift that building to the Red Shirts to use as a base of operations (so don't do too much damage to it).
Magic is extremely illegal in Fyrrok but your superiors have ordered you to utilize the cultists’ magic to create a portal.
Your goals for the mission in priority order are as follows:
Secure a verbal invitation from Lord Hammersand for the Red Battalion to move into his establishment once the job is done. Be sure to get a handshake (or whatever the local equivalent is) to secure the deal.
Decide how to infiltrate the structure and most effectively clear out the cultists.
At the first sign of magic, let your handler know via the link and we will use it to power the portal spell. One of you will need to get into close physical proximity and stay there for a minute or two for the spell to catch.
Secure the perimeter and ward off the locals as the spell will take some time to mature. Hopefully it will only be hours but it may be days and we don’t want any interference before our people can arrive.
After the portal area is secure and the job is done, use your discretion to follow up on any leads or details that may need your attention prior to vacating the area.
You both wake to the cry of the sailor in the crow’s nest, “Ware the ship, masts, due west! Lots of ‘em!” You smile at each other, your oppressively long voyage to Fyrrok is coming to a welcome end. Weeks of practice let you both get out of your tiny bunk room without inviting further contusions and, once on the main deck, into the first rays of a new day. The Fyrroki pilot spits on the deck by your feet as he stalks by and delivers one of his signature dour glares. Fyrrok requires all approaching vessels be piloted by a member of their shipping guild, a fact which makes this haughty specimen legally invaluable but no less irksome. He won’t bother you or your crew much longer though as the promised fog bank surrounding the city is clear on the horizon.
As you stand at the ship’s rail admiring the sunrise, you consider your mysterious mission. The Red Battalion has expended considerable resources getting you to Fyrrok for some as-yet undefined mission. You were told to expect a briefing towards the end of your voyage but now find yourself wondering if you’ve somehow missed it. You open your mouth to say as much to your companion when you hear a shockingly loud whisper resonate throughout your head, “come”. The two of you stumble with surprise and feel compelled to head to the back of the ship and approach the captain’s cabin. Over the course of the entire voyage those quarters have been a discussion topic for the crew. Your organization paid exorbitant fees to rent them but not a soul has come out and nobody has so much as seen the door open. Much to your surprise now, the sun’s morning rays land upon an open black doorway but do not penetrate further. You approach the threshold and a background chorus of frantic nonsensical whispers comes to your attention. You feel a mounting sense of dread the closer you come to the matte black opening.
As you are compelled to step directly in front of the door, another command echoes in your skull, “stop, attend to what I have to say, and do not interrupt.” You relax slightly as you realize that you won’t have to walk into that perfectly black surface and hear a surprisingly loud whisper emanate from the room beyond. “As you know, we’re heading into Fyrrok,” you are informed. “The Red Battalion has been patiently waiting to establish itself in this particular confluence of magic, artifice, and trade. We set our sights here long ago and since then have watched as the Fyrrok has weathered storm after storm, always balancing on the edge of needing an… —ahem— external force to nudge events along… but, until now, they have remained isolationist and aloof; a nation committed to pecuniary usury but too proud to be —ahem— indebted to anyone else.
After a considerate pause, the whispers continue, “Weeks ago, we received a communication indicating that our long patience, and —ahem— considerable propaganda, is about to yield a reward much richer than we could have hoped for. As you may be aware, our rather small organization can afford to maintain multiple operational theaters only through the extensive use of magical portals. This is so vital to our operations that we insist, as part of our employers’ contractual obligations, on being provided a suitable location and reagents to establish a permanent portal. Our interest in Fyrrok is such that we have, due to their state-sponsored monopoly on magic, been willing to waive this requirement and instead expend considerable resources in recruiting and transportation costs.
“As fortune would have it, we can, in this instance —ahem— have our cake and eat it too. A minor nobleman, one Lord Hammersand, has sent a request for our aid in restoring his family name and has, as an official representative of the bodies ruling Fyrrok, offered us the ownership of a plot of land and accompanying structure as a down payment for our services, payable upon your demonstration that we can, in fact, ‘get shit done.’
The voice behind the whispers seems to smile as it continues, “What makes this particular ‘cake’ both possessible and consumable is that your initial task is to remove cultists and their magicks from the very structure we will soon own...” After a few moments of silence, you look at your companion and see your own confusion mirrored in their face. With a nearly audible eye-roll, the whispers clarify, “If the cultists are playing with enough magical energy to become a nuisance, we can consume it to power the initial spell for a tiny clandestine portal which we can then opportunistically strengthen in the coming days and weeks. This is a unique opportunity and you are being provided this extended context to drive home the import of your assignment: you must not fail else this singular opportunity will pass and we will be much the poorer for it. Also, I rather suspect the two of you would not survive the Fyrroki’s wrath should you fail.
In the tones of one given much practice at lecturing, the whispers explain, “Fyrrok is extremely magic-averse and Fyrroki law requires that all customs inspections of incoming vessels include a thorough search for ‘artifacts’ which are then impounded until the vessel departs. Individuals who are adept at any form of magic are not allowed off of their ships on pain of death, and the dissemination of magical techniques or treatises is also a serious offense.” In a lighter tone, the whispers continue, “You might guess that the Fyrroki state would not be happy to know that we are planning on executing a major sorcery in their city, nor would they be happy to know about the full capabilities of your excursion suit. To provide you with a smooth infiltration of the city, I have temporarily enhanced the capabilities of your —ahem— ‘artifacts,’ and can assure you that the Fyrroki will not detect the magicks built into your shirt, nor will they be able to use artifice to detect the portal that you open up, although we can do nothing to prevent citizens from seeing a hole in space and bringing this anomaly to the authorities. You will also have a more secure two-way communication with me throughout your stay in Fyrrok although I recommend you not use this for idle chatter.
Finally getting to your actual task, the whispers continue, “Your goals are thus, in order of priority:
Secure a verbal invitation from Lord Hammersand for the Red Battalion to move into his establishment once the job is done. Be sure to get a handshake (or whatever the local equivalent is) to secure the deal.
Decide how to infiltrate the structure and most effectively clear out the cultists.
At the first sign of magic, let your handler know via the link and we will use it to power the portal spell. One of you will need to get into close physical proximity and stay there for a minute or two for the spell to catch.
Secure the perimeter and ward off the locals as the spell will take some time to mature. Hopefully it will only be hours but it may be days and we don’t want any interference before our people can arrive.
After the portal area is secure and the job is done, use your discretion to follow up on any leads or details that may need your attention prior to vacating the area.
Are there any questions about any of this?”
REPORT
By Cyrilla Mistborne
Nighttalon and I met with Opulence and got the go ahead to occupy his building.
Asked the local shop keeps about the “Riffraff” (Susan,Brodey,Julius&Julius,and Scintillance)
Met with Brodey, a commodities trader, he gave us some of the local money for our job.
Hired a “Meat shield” from one of the tenants to assist us with getting rid of said “Riffraff”
Met the pawn shop owner, Scintillance, who gave us some supplies to help (4 health potions, scroll of awesomeness, Box of Rats) plus probably will be able to supply (illegal) magical items eventually.
We then infiltrated the Tavern by distracting the bad people with the rats. We had the “Meat shield” charge in from the back to flank them. He also took out a couple of them while helping us. They were definitely doing magical things at that tavern. After a short battle we got rid of the rest of the “Riffraff” (except one), which the “Meat shield” took to the local authorities. We searched the first floor and found a treasure chest, inside we found Cultist accoutrements and a weird looking fishing rod which was very magical in nature. We started the portal process, then we had nothing but time, so we proceeded to the basement the only place we hadn't searched yet. Down there we discovered that digging took place. We went down the path that led to a hollowed-out area that had a hole in the middle of it. (I expect it led to hell, but I couldn’t confirm.) A creature burst out from the hole and engaged us. It was alien, I did not believe what I saw, and before I could do anything, Nighttalon yelled at me to run as far as I could, he made a noble sacrifice and utilized his “red shirt” to blow up the room and seal the hole and wherever it led to. (I am still cleaning up bits and pieces of Talon out of my armor)
The portal was finished, and the building was ours for whatever the Red Battalion needs for the future. I was the only to survive to write this report.
END OF REPORT