Vic manages to stay mostly upright, only banging her shoulder slightly against a bulkhead. The others right themselves after the jostling.
The room is quiet save for the soft ticking of Diomedé, your newly unveiled majordomo, who adjusts his ruffled sleeve as he pivots toward Vicky.
DIOMEDÉ (bowing slightly) “Ah, Vic. A name of elegance and practicality, I approve. Welcome to The Pen & Parchment, an experimental Kara-Turan hull retrofitted with Lantanese spelljamming technology—currently undergoing certain calibration rituals, to put it politely.”
He gestures grandly toward the bulkhead.
“You are aboard a spelljammer, dear Vic. Not a mere sea vessel, but one capable of traversing the Void Between Worlds. Realmspace, as it's known. The stars themselves shall be your harbors. And as for your inquiry…”
He taps the glowing sending stone embedded in his chest with a brass fingertip.
“Vacuum—a charmingly dangerous environment where no air exists. One inhales it precisely once. I do recommend staying inside the envelope unless you're feeling existential.”
He is just winding up for what surely would have been an elaborate technical metaphor when—
KNOCK. KNOCK. The stateroom door opens with a creak.
Standing in the threshold is a woman in a dark, tight-laced officer’s coat, her black hair pulled back in a neat plait, and a silver sabre at her hip. She’s flanked by two silent guards, both armed with polearms shaped like stylized dragon talons.
Her eyes scan the room, briefly resting on each of you.
CAPTAIN “Well. So you’re Volo’s... entrepreneurs.”
She enters without waiting for permission, standing tall and still—commanding, but not unkind. She looks you over with the practiced eye of someone who has buried a few mistakes in her career.
“I am Captain Aelira Thorne. Welcome aboard my ship. I must admit, I wasn’t certain I would allow you aboard when we spotted you.”
Diomedé takes a single step forward and bows with impeccable precision.
DIOMEDÉ “Captain Thorne, may I formally present the duly empowered representatives of Volo’s Interstellar Enterprise, Waterdeep Chapter. Allow me:”
He flourishes one elegant hand toward each in turn:
“Tahlia Willowmere, Loremonger extraordinaire—keeper of knowledge, histories, and subtext.” “Vicky ‘Vic’ Torius, Obviator—master of logistical solutions, and charmingly skeptical of vacuums.” “Djoser Nickelgazer, Documancer—our archivist, scribe, and diplomat of the inked arts.” “And Archael Dezlentyr, Decisionist—the one with the dubious honor of settling internal disagreements through sheer force of charisma or coin toss.”
He steps back with a proud nod.
“A finer frontier crew one could not hope to assemble in a Waterdhavian tavern.”
Captain Thorne appears appeased by the Nimblewright's introductions.
She lifts a small scroll, sealed in worn leather, between two fingers.
“We’ve been watching your waters for a day. Dispatched the pirates on your tail—one survivor. He had this.”
She hands the scroll over to the nearest party member.
“It's either gibberish or in a tongue I don’t know. Perhaps one of you can make sense of it.”
She straightens.
“You came aboard with a target on your backs. I do not like carrying cargo with fleas. But... we’ve launched now, and Volo has convinced someone to fund this circus. So—welcome.”
She nods curtly.
“We’ll be making for Selûne, where we can resupply and stabilize the helm. You may find opportunity for trade there while we work out... some remaining kinks.”
The deck trembles faintly beneath the adventurers' boots—barely perceptible, but enough to imply they are no longer sailing on water.
So much was happening. Tahlia continued to stare at the contraption that called himself Diomede, at least it was friendly. She looks up towards the deck when she hears the crew, that seemed to make her feel a bit better, knowing this place, this ship - called The Pen & Parchment? Was actually manned by personnel.
When the captain shows up, and introductions are made, she's happy to hear about the others. They hadn't gotten around to formal introductions it seems. "A spelljammer? Ooh... can it travel to the Fey Wild?" More of the Captain's words sink in, "What kinks?"
Looking over at the note, Tahlia shakes her head, she has no idea what that scroll says.
Djoserremains motionless for a long moment, his breath steady, his grip firm upon the seat back of a chair. His mind races, trying to wrap itself around the sheer scale of what has been revealed. Not just a new land, not merely another kingdom across the sea, but other worlds. Entire realms, linked not by roads or rivers, but by ships that sail the very heavens.
It is staggering. It is dizzying. It is—
His brow furrows. His grip tightens as his eyes widen. It is a holy obligation.
His breath quickens—not from fear, but from the enormity of it. Trade not just across continents, but across realities? The exchange of goods, of wealth, of knowledge, not between distant nations, but between wholly different planes of existence? It is entirely unprecedented. It is the clanging bell heralding endless possibilities.
The golden scales of Waukeen's balance come into sharp focus in his mind's eye, shimmering with possibility. The first merchants to forge these paths will not simply be traders—they will be legend-makers, pioneers of a new age. The power of commerce has ever shaped civilization, and now, it has the chance to shape the very fabric of the cosmos itself. His breath steadies. There is an uncomfortable chaos here - with so many opportunities, so many unknowns, there is the constant threat of disorder - but clarity rises above it. If this is possible, it must be done. If others hesitate, if lesser minds falter at the sheer scope of it, so be it. He will not.
Djoser lifts his head, his eyes gleaming fiercely... zealously. His voice, when it comes, is low but certain.
"This is no mere venture. This is destiny. A calling. And by Waukeen’s grace, I will see it done."
He glances at the note, unable to read it. He mutters, almost to himself, "It seems to follow linguistic patterns, but it isn't any language I have seen. It could be ciphered, though without a key it may be difficult to decode. Impossible, even."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
As Tahlia nods, her plait comes falling down around her shoulders and you see that there are small green leaves weaved amongst the braid. And when she takes a drink from the glass, her sleeve of her robe falls down and you notice a green colored tattoo of sprawls of leaves and their thin branches covering her forearm and leading onto her hands. You might have noticed this earlier, but she had kept the cloak wrapped tightly around her on the deck of the ship, warding off the wind.
At Djoser's reaction, the elf smile grows into a grin. "Destiny, eh? Well, I must say this is so much more of a voyage than I ever imagined. The possibilities are making my head spin."
Gift of Words: 13 [Rolled it as an Intelligence save w/advantage in the game log]
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Gift of Words: 13 [Rolled it as an Intelligence save w/advantage in the game log]
(( +2 for proficiency in the semi-arcane language of Documancy ))
Djoserstudies the note for a few minutes in focused silence, then seemingly counting, he suddenly realizes this is a Zhentarim Shift cipher. Named after the Zhentarim who used similar shift ciphers to code messages, it is not a true cipher as there is no hidden key, or rather, the key is the alphabet, shifted several letters.
He stares at it longer then finally concludes its true meaning:
To the Hand that Binds the Tide,
The cargo you seek travels beneath a velvet banner, aboard a vessel of no name. The feathered fool has dispatched his pawns already—watch for a blue-sailed brigantine.
Do not engage the dragon, only the fish that follow it. If they survive, all the better—shadow them.
Payment awaits in the usual place. The seal will break when the stars move.
🜲 — K.
It seems that the pirates had not come across them by chance...
While Djoser works on the coded message, Captain Thorne responds to Tahlia:
"When Volo acquired this ship, he also did not bother to get any instruction. We have some mages who are taking turns running the helm that makes this interplanetary travel possible, but they don't seem to have quite gotten the hang of it. That, or the thing needs a repair. Or both. Either way, we should be able to have someone look at it in port Selûne and maybe get a bit more instruction on how to pilot it. Worse than riding a harpooned kraken! Good thing is that when it gets moving, it can travel fast. We should be in port in an hour or so."
The young white-haired waterdhavian noble stays silent and observes, effortlessly bracing as the spelljammer takes off, calmly sipping his drink as Diomedé and Captain Thorne speaks, contemplating the possibilities ahead. There were however reasons the knowledge about Realmspace and Spelljammers were not common knowledge though and they had to tread carefully in these stellar worlds of opportunity. There was still much going on around him but when things calmed down he would gather the team to discuss plans. For now he joins Djoser studying the scroll with the crypto. "Can you make any sense of that?" He asks calmly.
Djoserexhales slowly through his nose. Almost immediately after running it through the very small handful of substitution codes he has seen before, he cracks the message. Zhentarim. I should not be surprised. Coin and treachery often walked hand in hand.
Even so, to see it written so plainly, to see confirmation that their enemy knew of them, tracked them—expected them… He does not react outwardly. No gasp, no furrowed brow, no startled intake of breath. Instead, he reads it again, then draws forth a set of parchment and copies it down in triplicate, ensuring that not a single word slips from his mind or fails to be recorded.
Archael’s question draws his attention, but Djoserdoes not look up immediately. Instead, he remains over the note and his papers, transcribing. Finally, in a low, measured voice, he speaks.
"Yes. I can make sense of it." He does not elaborate right away. Not out of secrecy, but out of habit. His thoughts are a procession, orderly and structured, and he must align them before giving them voice.
"The code itself is Zhentarim in origin, though that does not guarantee our foes belong to the Black Network. It is a directive. Instructions. The pirates did not find us by chance, as the Captain had already surmised." He pauses, his gaze distant for a breath before he continues. "A shipment—our cargo—was their target. Another party moves against us already... it is signed only "K" alongside a crown symbol. They knew of the spelljammer ship, though they refer to it only as 'the Dragon.' They also refer to a 'feathered fool'... that can only be Volo."
His fingers tighten subtly on the paper, considering, talking to himself again. " 'The seal will break when the stars move.' What can that mean? A timed event? An astrological marker? No—irrelevant for now. The rest is more pressing."
He finally glances at Archael, then he passes Archael one copy of his transcription, filing the other two and the original away in his satchel. "Someone is willing to pay well to steal or at least track our cargo." His tone remains quiet, deliberate. Not angered—focused.
Then he looks up at the Captain. " What is our cargo?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Vic looks at the note and nods. She suspected a cipher of this sort based on the length of the words. She smiles when Djoser solves it so quickly. "**Impressive, Djoser. Truly you have a gift with the written word.**".
She also assesses the ship, and crew, as she did with their first vessel, making note of each sailor's aptitudes, looking at any armaments, the best hiding spots, and the likely vulnerabilities- while aware she knows nothing of spelljammers- yet.
Her ears perk up at the question about the mysterious cargo.
To Djoser's inquiry about the cargo Thorne doesn't bristle. She just pulls out a few sheets of parchment from a portfolio under her arm - the ship's manifest.
Bill of lading from Kara-tur
Silks, robes, dresses and lingerie
Bill of lading from the Azure Fortune (port of origin: Waterdeep)
Captain Thorne: “Spices. Linen. Trinkets. Toys. Ink. The usual. I was surprised myself—until I tallied the weight.”
She gestures toward the end of the listing from Waterdeep.
“One hundred everful casks. That’s your mystery.”
A soft whir precedes the arrival of Diomedé, who steps in with a flick of his cloak, finger raised in lecture mode.
Diomedé: “Ah, yes. The water. Life’s most basic fluid—unless you are a thri-kreen, in which case it’s optional. But I digress.
“These are Lantanese-grade everful casks, enchanted to refill with fresh, potable water each day. Quite handy on long journeys—or, say, when one is weeks from the nearest river, continent, or planet.”
He turns toward Djoser, eyes glinting beneath the shadow of his tricorne.
“In Realmspace, water is scarce. On the Astral Sea, it’s nearly impossible to replenish without divine intervention, conjuration, or... these beauties.”
“Now imagine, dear entrepreneurs, that a passing party of pirates—perhaps under contract—noticed this shipment. One hundred casks of infinite water. Why, that could only mean one thing…”
He pauses for effect. The sending stone in his chest flickers.
Volo’s voice, faintly: “We’re going off-world, of course!”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The young white-haired waterdhavian noble reads Djoser's transcription and nods to himself, then placing the transcription on the table for the others to read. He goes silent and ponders what it says about a seal breaking when the stars move.
History: 16
He looks over at the majordomo as it speaks again but he doesn't quite follow in the end. "So, can you elaborate on our mission now, what does Volo expect us to do exactly? And this dragon ship, will we be using it for travel indefinitely or will it just take us to a particular destination?" He asks calmly, taking another sip of his drink.
((From the context of the note, it is impossible to discern what this passage alludes to - perhaps some sign prearranged by the parties involved?))
Diomedé gently inclines his head as Archael speaks, his polished fingers lacing together at his waist. When the question is asked, he pivots with a dramatic turn that sends his cloak flaring just a bit too dramatically for the size of the room.
"Ah, Master Dezlentyr, an excellent question—refreshingly pragmatic amidst the chaos. Permit me to elaborate."
He clears his throat (despite not having lungs), and the faint hum of arcane resonance in his chest harmonizes as the sending stone pulses.
"Your assignment, as designated agents of Volothamp Geddarm’s Bold Expeditionary Trading Concern—working title—"
He makes a spinning gesture as if unfurling a scroll.
"—is to develop a viable, robust, and gloriously lucrative interstellar trade network. You are to explore, negotiate, and establish mercantile relations throughout Realmspace, and—eventually—beyond its glittering edges."
He taps the wooden table lightly, the metal of his fingertip echoing faintly.
"In pursuit of this goal, The Pen & Parchment shall serve as your principal conveyance, floating headquarters, embassy, and—should fortune abandon us—lifeboat."
He pauses.
"You are to treat her as your base of operations until such time as you: A) acquire a superior vessel, B) requisition a fleet, or C) are consumed by a star whale. Statistically, options A or B are more favorable."
He turns slightly, the brass trim of his coat gleaming in the stateroom lights.
"Your first destination is Selûne. This is, I must emphasize, the only destination your patron provided with any clarity whatsoever."
He leans in just slightly.
"From Selûne, it is our expectation—and by our I mean Volo’s, as interpreted and restructured by yours truly—that you will uncover further ports, people, and planets upon which to expand our commercial reach. Trade agreements, resource contracts, cultural exchanges—these are your coin."
He straightens and nods solemnly.
"In short: you are merchant lords in the making, on the bleeding edge of a new frontier. You are the quill in the ledger, the seal on the charter, the first signature on the stars."
He adds, after a beat:
"Oh, and do try not to die. It’s bad for the brand."
"Anything to preserve the brand of course." The young white-haired waterdhavian noble says with a grin tugging at his lips as the majordomo is finished. "I know something about creating a trade network but it took my family generations to accomplish this. I hope our benefactor have the patience needed to see his glorious plans come into fruition?"He asks, looking between the majordomo and the sending stone on his chest.
Tahlia had been moving around as conversation was amping up after the captain had joined them. But once the plan of actually traveling the stars sinks in, the elf takes a seat with a thump. "Boy... if my father could see me now."she says more to herself than anyone else.
She stares at the map of stars on the wall, her eyes growing as she takes it all in. Taking another drink, she coughs as she drank it too fast. She looks at the barrels and wonders if their conjecture was right, was that what the pirates after? Or did others know of their undertaking and didn't want them to be first? This was enough of a task, she really didn't want to have to be looking over her shoulder everywhere they went.
"What of the other doors on this ship? We passed several that were quite interesting. If this is to be our home in the coming..whatever timeline we're looking at, won't we be able to explore the ship at leisure?"
"Selûne... what can you tell us about this place? Does Volo, have ideas about what they might like to trade, and with whom?".Vicky wonders at this amazing circumstance. She knew Volo, more by reputation than anything, but had been involved in a few jobs that might have been connected to him. She had done well, but did not think her skill was noticed.
she nods in agreement at the questions Tahlia asks- locked doors always intrigued her- and locked doors that were "off limits" further piqued her interest.
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Vic manages to stay mostly upright, only banging her shoulder slightly against a bulkhead. The others right themselves after the jostling.
The room is quiet save for the soft ticking of Diomedé, your newly unveiled majordomo, who adjusts his ruffled sleeve as he pivots toward Vicky.
DIOMEDÉ (bowing slightly)
“Ah, Vic. A name of elegance and practicality, I approve. Welcome to The Pen & Parchment, an experimental Kara-Turan hull retrofitted with Lantanese spelljamming technology—currently undergoing certain calibration rituals, to put it politely.”
He gestures grandly toward the bulkhead.
“You are aboard a spelljammer, dear Vic. Not a mere sea vessel, but one capable of traversing the Void Between Worlds. Realmspace, as it's known. The stars themselves shall be your harbors. And as for your inquiry…”
He taps the glowing sending stone embedded in his chest with a brass fingertip.
“Vacuum—a charmingly dangerous environment where no air exists. One inhales it precisely once. I do recommend staying inside the envelope unless you're feeling existential.”
He is just winding up for what surely would have been an elaborate technical metaphor when—
KNOCK. KNOCK.
The stateroom door opens with a creak.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Standing in the threshold is a woman in a dark, tight-laced officer’s coat, her black hair pulled back in a neat plait, and a silver sabre at her hip. She’s flanked by two silent guards, both armed with polearms shaped like stylized dragon talons.
Her eyes scan the room, briefly resting on each of you.
CAPTAIN
“Well. So you’re Volo’s... entrepreneurs.”
She enters without waiting for permission, standing tall and still—commanding, but not unkind. She looks you over with the practiced eye of someone who has buried a few mistakes in her career.
“I am Captain Aelira Thorne. Welcome aboard my ship. I must admit, I wasn’t certain I would allow you aboard when we spotted you.”
Diomedé takes a single step forward and bows with impeccable precision.
DIOMEDÉ
“Captain Thorne, may I formally present the duly empowered representatives of Volo’s Interstellar Enterprise, Waterdeep Chapter. Allow me:”
He flourishes one elegant hand toward each in turn:
“Tahlia Willowmere, Loremonger extraordinaire—keeper of knowledge, histories, and subtext.”
“Vicky ‘Vic’ Torius, Obviator—master of logistical solutions, and charmingly skeptical of vacuums.”
“Djoser Nickelgazer, Documancer—our archivist, scribe, and diplomat of the inked arts.”
“And Archael Dezlentyr, Decisionist—the one with the dubious honor of settling internal disagreements through sheer force of charisma or coin toss.”
He steps back with a proud nod.
“A finer frontier crew one could not hope to assemble in a Waterdhavian tavern.”
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Captain Thorne appears appeased by the Nimblewright's introductions.
She lifts a small scroll, sealed in worn leather, between two fingers.
“We’ve been watching your waters for a day. Dispatched the pirates on your tail—one survivor. He had this.”
She hands the scroll over to the nearest party member.
“It's either gibberish or in a tongue I don’t know. Perhaps one of you can make sense of it.”
She straightens.
“You came aboard with a target on your backs. I do not like carrying cargo with fleas. But... we’ve launched now, and Volo has convinced someone to fund this circus. So—welcome.”
She nods curtly.
“We’ll be making for Selûne, where we can resupply and stabilize the helm. You may find opportunity for trade there while we work out... some remaining kinks.”
The deck trembles faintly beneath the adventurers' boots—barely perceptible, but enough to imply they are no longer sailing on water.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
The note taken from the pirate:
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
So much was happening. Tahlia continued to stare at the contraption that called himself Diomede, at least it was friendly. She looks up towards the deck when she hears the crew, that seemed to make her feel a bit better, knowing this place, this ship - called The Pen & Parchment? Was actually manned by personnel.
When the captain shows up, and introductions are made, she's happy to hear about the others. They hadn't gotten around to formal introductions it seems. "A spelljammer? Ooh... can it travel to the Fey Wild?" More of the Captain's words sink in, "What kinks?"
Looking over at the note, Tahlia shakes her head, she has no idea what that scroll says.
Djoser remains motionless for a long moment, his breath steady, his grip firm upon the seat back of a chair. His mind races, trying to wrap itself around the sheer scale of what has been revealed. Not just a new land, not merely another kingdom across the sea, but other worlds. Entire realms, linked not by roads or rivers, but by ships that sail the very heavens.
It is staggering. It is dizzying. It is—
His brow furrows. His grip tightens as his eyes widen. It is a holy obligation.
His breath quickens—not from fear, but from the enormity of it. Trade not just across continents, but across realities? The exchange of goods, of wealth, of knowledge, not between distant nations, but between wholly different planes of existence? It is entirely unprecedented. It is the clanging bell heralding endless possibilities.
The golden scales of Waukeen's balance come into sharp focus in his mind's eye, shimmering with possibility. The first merchants to forge these paths will not simply be traders—they will be legend-makers, pioneers of a new age. The power of commerce has ever shaped civilization, and now, it has the chance to shape the very fabric of the cosmos itself. His breath steadies. There is an uncomfortable chaos here - with so many opportunities, so many unknowns, there is the constant threat of disorder - but clarity rises above it. If this is possible, it must be done. If others hesitate, if lesser minds falter at the sheer scope of it, so be it. He will not.
Djoser lifts his head, his eyes gleaming fiercely... zealously. His voice, when it comes, is low but certain.
"This is no mere venture. This is destiny. A calling. And by Waukeen’s grace, I will see it done."
He glances at the note, unable to read it. He mutters, almost to himself, "It seems to follow linguistic patterns, but it isn't any language I have seen. It could be ciphered, though without a key it may be difficult to decode. Impossible, even."
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
((Djoser, roll a Gift of Words check with advantage, you should see it on your sheet)).
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
As Tahlia nods, her plait comes falling down around her shoulders and you see that there are small green leaves weaved amongst the braid. And when she takes a drink from the glass, her sleeve of her robe falls down and you notice a green colored tattoo of sprawls of leaves and their thin branches covering her forearm and leading onto her hands. You might have noticed this earlier, but she had kept the cloak wrapped tightly around her on the deck of the ship, warding off the wind.
At Djoser's reaction, the elf smile grows into a grin. "Destiny, eh? Well, I must say this is so much more of a voyage than I ever imagined. The possibilities are making my head spin."
Gift of Words: 13 [Rolled it as an Intelligence save w/advantage in the game log]
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
(( +2 for proficiency in the semi-arcane language of Documancy ))
Djoser studies the note for a few minutes in focused silence, then seemingly counting, he suddenly realizes this is a Zhentarim Shift cipher. Named after the Zhentarim who used similar shift ciphers to code messages, it is not a true cipher as there is no hidden key, or rather, the key is the alphabet, shifted several letters.
He stares at it longer then finally concludes its true meaning:
It seems that the pirates had not come across them by chance...
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
While Djoser works on the coded message, Captain Thorne responds to Tahlia:
"When Volo acquired this ship, he also did not bother to get any instruction. We have some mages who are taking turns running the helm that makes this interplanetary travel possible, but they don't seem to have quite gotten the hang of it. That, or the thing needs a repair. Or both. Either way, we should be able to have someone look at it in port Selûne and maybe get a bit more instruction on how to pilot it. Worse than riding a harpooned kraken! Good thing is that when it gets moving, it can travel fast. We should be in port in an hour or so."
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
The young white-haired waterdhavian noble stays silent and observes, effortlessly bracing as the spelljammer takes off, calmly sipping his drink as Diomedé and Captain Thorne speaks, contemplating the possibilities ahead. There were however reasons the knowledge about Realmspace and Spelljammers were not common knowledge though and they had to tread carefully in these stellar worlds of opportunity. There was still much going on around him but when things calmed down he would gather the team to discuss plans. For now he joins Djoser studying the scroll with the crypto. "Can you make any sense of that?" He asks calmly.
Djoser exhales slowly through his nose. Almost immediately after running it through the very small handful of substitution codes he has seen before, he cracks the message. Zhentarim. I should not be surprised. Coin and treachery often walked hand in hand.
Even so, to see it written so plainly, to see confirmation that their enemy knew of them, tracked them—expected them… He does not react outwardly. No gasp, no furrowed brow, no startled intake of breath. Instead, he reads it again, then draws forth a set of parchment and copies it down in triplicate, ensuring that not a single word slips from his mind or fails to be recorded.
Archael’s question draws his attention, but Djoser does not look up immediately. Instead, he remains over the note and his papers, transcribing. Finally, in a low, measured voice, he speaks.
"Yes. I can make sense of it." He does not elaborate right away. Not out of secrecy, but out of habit. His thoughts are a procession, orderly and structured, and he must align them before giving them voice.
"The code itself is Zhentarim in origin, though that does not guarantee our foes belong to the Black Network. It is a directive. Instructions. The pirates did not find us by chance, as the Captain had already surmised." He pauses, his gaze distant for a breath before he continues. "A shipment—our cargo—was their target. Another party moves against us already... it is signed only "K" alongside a crown symbol. They knew of the spelljammer ship, though they refer to it only as 'the Dragon.' They also refer to a 'feathered fool'... that can only be Volo."
His fingers tighten subtly on the paper, considering, talking to himself again. " 'The seal will break when the stars move.' What can that mean? A timed event? An astrological marker? No—irrelevant for now. The rest is more pressing."
He finally glances at Archael, then he passes Archael one copy of his transcription, filing the other two and the original away in his satchel. "Someone is willing to pay well to steal or at least track our cargo." His tone remains quiet, deliberate. Not angered—focused.
Then he looks up at the Captain. " What is our cargo?"
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Vic looks at the note and nods. She suspected a cipher of this sort based on the length of the words. She smiles when Djoser solves it so quickly. "**Impressive, Djoser. Truly you have a gift with the written word.**".
She also assesses the ship, and crew, as she did with their first vessel, making note of each sailor's aptitudes, looking at any armaments, the best hiding spots, and the likely vulnerabilities- while aware she knows nothing of spelljammers- yet.
Her ears perk up at the question about the mysterious cargo.
To Djoser's inquiry about the cargo Thorne doesn't bristle. She just pulls out a few sheets of parchment from a portfolio under her arm - the ship's manifest.
Captain Thorne:
“Spices. Linen. Trinkets. Toys. Ink. The usual. I was surprised myself—until I tallied the weight.”
She gestures toward the end of the listing from Waterdeep.
“One hundred everful casks. That’s your mystery.”
A soft whir precedes the arrival of Diomedé, who steps in with a flick of his cloak, finger raised in lecture mode.
Diomedé:
“Ah, yes. The water. Life’s most basic fluid—unless you are a thri-kreen, in which case it’s optional. But I digress.
“These are Lantanese-grade everful casks, enchanted to refill with fresh, potable water each day. Quite handy on long journeys—or, say, when one is weeks from the nearest river, continent, or planet.”
He turns toward Djoser, eyes glinting beneath the shadow of his tricorne.
“In Realmspace, water is scarce. On the Astral Sea, it’s nearly impossible to replenish without divine intervention, conjuration, or... these beauties.”
“Now imagine, dear entrepreneurs, that a passing party of pirates—perhaps under contract—noticed this shipment. One hundred casks of infinite water. Why, that could only mean one thing…”
He pauses for effect. The sending stone in his chest flickers.
Volo’s voice, faintly:
“We’re going off-world, of course!”
Diomedé sighs theatrically.
“Yes. Thank you, Master Volo.”
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
The young white-haired waterdhavian noble reads Djoser's transcription and nods to himself, then placing the transcription on the table for the others to read.
He goes silent and ponders what it says about a seal breaking when the stars move.
History: 16
He looks over at the majordomo as it speaks again but he doesn't quite follow in the end. "So, can you elaborate on our mission now, what does Volo expect us to do exactly? And this dragon ship, will we be using it for travel indefinitely or will it just take us to a particular destination?" He asks calmly, taking another sip of his drink.
((From the context of the note, it is impossible to discern what this passage alludes to - perhaps some sign prearranged by the parties involved?))
Diomedé gently inclines his head as Archael speaks, his polished fingers lacing together at his waist. When the question is asked, he pivots with a dramatic turn that sends his cloak flaring just a bit too dramatically for the size of the room.
"Ah, Master Dezlentyr, an excellent question—refreshingly pragmatic amidst the chaos. Permit me to elaborate."
He clears his throat (despite not having lungs), and the faint hum of arcane resonance in his chest harmonizes as the sending stone pulses.
"Your assignment, as designated agents of Volothamp Geddarm’s Bold Expeditionary Trading Concern—working title—"
He makes a spinning gesture as if unfurling a scroll.
"—is to develop a viable, robust, and gloriously lucrative interstellar trade network. You are to explore, negotiate, and establish mercantile relations throughout Realmspace, and—eventually—beyond its glittering edges."
He taps the wooden table lightly, the metal of his fingertip echoing faintly.
"In pursuit of this goal, The Pen & Parchment shall serve as your principal conveyance, floating headquarters, embassy, and—should fortune abandon us—lifeboat."
He pauses.
"You are to treat her as your base of operations until such time as you: A) acquire a superior vessel, B) requisition a fleet, or C) are consumed by a star whale. Statistically, options A or B are more favorable."
He turns slightly, the brass trim of his coat gleaming in the stateroom lights.
"Your first destination is Selûne. This is, I must emphasize, the only destination your patron provided with any clarity whatsoever."
He leans in just slightly.
"From Selûne, it is our expectation—and by our I mean Volo’s, as interpreted and restructured by yours truly—that you will uncover further ports, people, and planets upon which to expand our commercial reach. Trade agreements, resource contracts, cultural exchanges—these are your coin."
He straightens and nods solemnly.
"In short: you are merchant lords in the making, on the bleeding edge of a new frontier. You are the quill in the ledger, the seal on the charter, the first signature on the stars."
He adds, after a beat:
"Oh, and do try not to die. It’s bad for the brand."
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
"Anything to preserve the brand of course." The young white-haired waterdhavian noble says with a grin tugging at his lips as the majordomo is finished. "I know something about creating a trade network but it took my family generations to accomplish this. I hope our benefactor have the patience needed to see his glorious plans come into fruition?" He asks, looking between the majordomo and the sending stone on his chest.
Tahlia had been moving around as conversation was amping up after the captain had joined them. But once the plan of actually traveling the stars sinks in, the elf takes a seat with a thump. "Boy... if my father could see me now." she says more to herself than anyone else.
She stares at the map of stars on the wall, her eyes growing as she takes it all in. Taking another drink, she coughs as she drank it too fast. She looks at the barrels and wonders if their conjecture was right, was that what the pirates after? Or did others know of their undertaking and didn't want them to be first? This was enough of a task, she really didn't want to have to be looking over her shoulder everywhere they went.
"What of the other doors on this ship? We passed several that were quite interesting. If this is to be our home in the coming..whatever timeline we're looking at, won't we be able to explore the ship at leisure?"
"Selûne... what can you tell us about this place? Does Volo, have ideas about what they might like to trade, and with whom?".Vicky wonders at this amazing circumstance. She knew Volo, more by reputation than anything, but had been involved in a few jobs that might have been connected to him. She had done well, but did not think her skill was noticed.
she nods in agreement at the questions Tahlia asks- locked doors always intrigued her- and locked doors that were "off limits" further piqued her interest.