This is the beginning of a series called "Tales of the Magaambya," and is in my set of TTRPG Wrap-Up fiction. I am in several TTRPG groups, whether it be D&D, Pathfinder, or something else, and to keep track of the plot and keep myself on my toes, I write session wrap-up notes in the form of in-character journals. In this case, this is the grand tale as told by a bard of their personal adventures and exploits. It is based on the characters in a Pathfinder 2e game of Strength of Thousands that I run, which takes place in the world of Golarion. Consider this your warning that THIS SERIES WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE STRENGTH OF THOUSANDS ADVENTURE PATH FOR PATHFINDER SECOND EDITION. All within is personally written by me personally, summing up the exploits at my personal table, and are not at all considered "canon" to the adventure, and ABSOLUTELY contain deviations from the published adventure that I put in myself. But it will spoil the story, so beware.

Part 1

The Group Interview

Fireday, Erastus the 31st, 4720 Absalom Reckoning

Deep within the city of Nantambu, in the rain of the greatest school for the magically-inclined, ancient and impressive in its scope and structure, known everywhere as The Magaambya, a band of five brand new students met at a campfire in a pleasant glade. These five students, of wildly different backgrounds, homes, and personalities, were here to attend this magical school, all bound to be a Cohort, a group that would protect, help, and be there for each other.

Kahara Raintooth, a dromaar (a child from a mix of human and orcish heritage) woman sixteen years of age from a humble rice farm outside The Walls, a Matanji orc settlement built as a fortress against the demonic hordes that roam the jungle. A tall woman of olive skin and golden hazel eyes, long brown dreadlocks and a simple sense of fashion, wearing mostly work clothes, she came to learn primal magics, strengthen her religious bond to Kazutal, the Mother Jaguar, and enhance her ability to hunt with her spear.

She came with her companion, a dimorphodon size of a large cat, Mist, resting on her arm, claws sunk into a leather gauntlet. He was a pterosaur of dark olive green with gold accents, bright white feathers, a long swishing tail, and a large head with a long snout. When I met this creature, he was snacking on a stolen mango, and that spoke more to his personality than I could have known.

Kudra Helleborus, a Taralu dwarf from the Zaphyrie clan, twenty-seven years of age, shorter and stout with darker skin and magically dyed hair hanging in a thick braid, the color of a stormy sky, all dark blues and whites, with a carefully trimmed beard. She wore long, elegant (though simple, not extravagant) robes of greens and earth tones with pleasant floral patterns. A naturalist in her tribe, she came to learn the ways of herbalism, primal magics, and improve her skills with her longbow.

Jhaan Swiftarrow, an Ekujae elf from the small village of Ijo, quite young for an elf at only twenty-one years of age, a slender boy with brilliant emerald eyes, medium-dark skin, a mess of short curly black hair, and a penchant for glassblowing. He carried more of a sense of style than his compatriots, with a patterned sleeveless shirt of greens and blacks and stylish boots, though notably absent of the signature knives all Ekujae carry on their hips. His parents both Magaambya alumni, he came from a sense of duty to his parents to hone his arcane skills, though felt more inclined to study the glassblowing techniques and other arts of the trade city of Nantambu.

Oyana Mistcaller, a Kallijae Elf from the island town of Haven, born into a conflict with the demonic hordes of Usaro. The eldest of this Cohort at forty years of age, she carried shadowy black eyes, long, tight, intricate braids of black hair, and intensely dark skin. She wore simple clothes of a short brown robe with long, flowing sleeves, and a staff she crafted herself of carved wood and an amethyst crystal atop it. She came to enhance her natural arcane skills, to learn magics she could not find anywhere else, and to honor her deceased mother, an alumnus of the Magaambya.

And lastly, our humble narrator, X'olani, a curious Conrasu from a far off land, towering tall at over 7 feet, built of arcane wood grown in intricate, fascinating patterns over their 18 years of age. With a thick body of wood the size of an elven torso, and a sphere of cosmic energy for a “head," flowing with speckles of light and nebulae within, held aloft by twelve long, elegant, stilt-like legs, their appearance was frequently compared to a “large wooden jellyfish." With a mysterious backstory and a penchant for art, they came to enhance their musical abilities and perfect the arcanics within them, having a good time while they were at it.

The new group of friends met in this glade in the rain around a bonfire, sitting upon logs under a simple chimney’d tent, with their new mentor, Takulu Ot, a kindly human man, a teacher and a mathematician, who oriented the future students around the fire with questions of who they were, where they came from, and who they hoped they would become.

After awkwardly sharing their experience, short life stories, and wishes for their lives at the academy, he walked us to the other size of the pavilion tent, and motioned to five simple candles, all in a circle upon a small table. “Can you light this candle with neither flint, nor matches,” he asked of us, noting this would be the first of our aptitude tests. He made it clear that we did not have to attempt all of these tests, that this was simply a way for him to get to know our level of experience, and the way we thought.

I, of course, took the easy route and lit the candle with a simple prestidigitation spell, receiving a nod from our mentor. Kahara found two dry sticks under the tent, and rubbed them together with grass until she lit a fire, then simply lit the candle. Kudra, meanwhile, took her candle, walked it to the bonfire, and lit it from that. Jhaan, in turn, lit his candle from Kudra’s. Oyana, taking a cue from me, used her prestidigitation magics to light her own.

The next test presented to us, he let out a small cooing sound, and a quail emerged from the bushes, bright blue feathers and a curious look in its eye. He explained the quail was tame enough to not bite, but timid enough to run from us. “Can you get a feather from this bird without plucking one?”

Your humble narrator Xol rushed the bird, and it ran. This, in my youth, was enough to dissuade me from my task, and I returned to my seat. Oyana took it up next, and cast a gale of winds at the bird, hoping to knock feathers off. It took her three tries, much to her frustration, but it resulted in three feathers dropping to the ground. She took one, and proudly presented it.

Kahara, to this, picked up the remaining two feathers, presented one, then offered the other feather to whomever would buy her a drink. Kudra accepted with a laugh, promising her a drink. Jhaan, meanwhile, distracted Kudra with a question, stole her feather, and presented it. It is a regret of mine that I did not think of any of the latter three solutions.

Then, he walked us to a worn grape trellis, upon which a small shovel-snout snake with a shiny, distinctive pattern rested upon the log. “Can you get a secret from this snake,” he asked of us. Kahara, the most experienced with animals of us all, approached the snake’s home and found a small nest, presenting one of the snake’s eggs. Kudra followed, finding a shed skin of the snake, revealing a small, secret spike in its tail for self defense.

I summoned forth my occult knowledge and magics, peering into its aura, finding the snake had a twin once, dead now, who followed and watched over it from the shadow realm. Oyana, the mind-wizard she is, used a spell of prophecy and determined that the snake would soon tire of us, run off to a log, and that it would prove adept at hiding, disappearing from us all. Sure enough, the snake rushed off and could not be found. Teacher Ot accepted all of these with a smile.

Walking us to a small stump, he motioned to a bone resting upon it. “Can you soothe the soul of this bone?” Stumping the party, Kahara was the first to act, practicing a funerary ritual of her people upon the bone. Oyana used her prestidigitative magics to clean the bone. Your humble narrator, meanwhile, is a cheeky devil, and I simply cast a Soothe spell upon the bone. He accepted this with a laugh.

As the last test, he presented us with a stone, setting it in the wet grass. “Can you make this stone dance by itself,” he asked. We prodded him for what exactly “by itself” entailed, but he would not budge, telling us to use our own judgement. I, myself, cast the Unseen Servant ritual, and had the spirit pick up the stone and dance. Upon releasing the spell, Kahara approached with another stone, a larger one, and threw it at the rock, hoping to make it bounce. Instead, the rock shattered, and Teacher Ot selected a new stone.

To this, she commanded her companion Mist to pick up the stone, carrying it high into the air, and dropping it until it bounced. Teacher Ot accepted this. Jhaan, meanwhile, passed his self-made magnifying glass around, tilting the glass about to make the stone seem as if it was dancing.

Kudra took a flat stone after much deliberation, and adeptly threw it at the other stone as if skipping it upon a lake. The rock, sure enough, bounced and skipped in the air. Oyana, much as I would, used her prestidigitative magics one more to lift the tiny stone and move it around.

Our tests complete, we returned to the bonfire, where Teacher Ot summoned forth an array of glowing symbols, asking us to choose the symbol that spoke to them the most, representing a spark of magic to send us on our way. Kahara chose a running hourglass, Kudra a flickering candle, Jhaan a multi-pronged key, Oyana an open hand with an eye in the palm, and I, a pair of pursed lips. These blossomed into spells we could cast innately, to help us learn of our natural magics and hone them. While Oyana and I had no need of them, the others took them to heart.

With a final question, Teacher Ot asked us, "What about you defines you, even if others rarely notice it? Is there something inside you that pulls at you, perhaps defying rational explanation? Thus, I return to my first question: who are you, and how can that person best be guided to grow?”

Pondering on this, we moved to the Spire Dormitory, where we would be staying for the duration of our studies at the Magaambya, and met Esi Djana, a gifted Human girl, as well as Chizire, an easygoing cat-like Amarrun boy, Ignaci Canterells, a secretive Human boy, and Anchor Root, an anxious hyena-like Kholo girl, all of which met us with open arms and welcome friendship.

We shortly found the Dining Hall and the head cook, Lumusi Yao, as well as The Powderpile, the student supply store, with the inventory master Xhokan, a small dragon-like Kobold.

We each chose our rooms, and joined our new friend Esi for dinner, getting our feet under us. In the evening, Jhaan and Kahara sparred and exercised with Esi, Oyana explored the campus, Kudra made her way to the Leshy Gardens to make new friends with the plant folk, while I settled into my room for a rest, overwhelmed by the day.

My new friend didn't know this, but this had been my first day among Humans and other non-Conrasu creatures. Not my first time around them, but my first time living amongst and surrounded by them. An overwhelming experience of culture-shock for even the most xenophilic among us!

By the end of the day, the members of this new Cohort settled into bed, tucking in for a weekend of meeting new friends, resting, exploration, and preparation for their first week of schooling.